#((teaching myself to accept imperfections))

[smiuffzo]

ZOMBIFIED TERROR

[justwinginglife]

Imperfect Perfection

Synopsis: You'd love to be the emperor's wife. Everyone would. But you've got a secret that makes you very unqualified to be his wife, so you do what anyone with a secret does- you hide and try to keep to yourself. But Jinshi's not used to women keeping to themselves around him. Just how are you going to keep this secret when he starts poking around? Approximate Word Count: 3600 Tags: Angst with a happy ending?

You hadn’t been trying to catch the emperor’s attention. But you were the only one who wasn’t, and that’s what caught his attention.

As the daughter of a high ranking official, you were invited (and then forced by your parents) to attend a garden party at the palace, where the newly crowned emperor would then choose his empress and concubines from among the party guests. 

Now, it wasn’t that you didn’t want his attention. In fact, he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen, and you were sure that everyone else was thinking the same thing. But you had certain physical limitations that made you an ill-advised choice for either his wife or his concubine so you figured there was no point in getting attached to someone you had no chance with. 

With that in mind, you banished yourself to the farthest corner of the garden, with only the bees and the flowers to keep you company. When a server brought you a tray of carefully arranged delicacies, you graciously accepted, popping one into your mouth before beaming bright and stealing another. With a satisfied sigh, you turned to speak to the waiter.

“I’m sorry, I know this is rather imprudent of me, but could I perchance meet your chef? I’d like to thank them for the delicious treats.” 

He blinked at you curiously.

“Oh, I apologize. You have permission to speak.” 

He gave you a small smile. “Thank you, my lady. As flattering as your request is, it is generally frowned upon for the lower and higher classes to interact. Especially at such a…” He gave a wary glance at all the nobility socializing around you, “Public event.” 

“Ah, I see. You’re right, forgive me, we are in a rather public space. I’ll accompany you to the kitchen then.”

His eyes widened. “The k-kitchen?”

You nodded as though it were the only acceptable conclusion. 

“You mustn’t! It’s rather…chaotic at this hour, with so many guests to serve. I’m sure your ladyship won’t find the kitchen interesting in the slightest. I will convey your thanks to the chef myself, if it is of such great importance to you.”

“It’s no trouble for me. I’d really like to properly express my gratitude. And I must admit to having an ulterior motive, as I’d also like for your chef to teach my kitchen staff their recipes, so you see, we have much to discuss.” You explained.

The waiter gave another cautious glance around the garden, before finally sighing and nodding. “Alright, as you wish, my lady. I shall take you to him.”

And with that, you quietly slipped off to the kitchen with him. Though it can’t have been as quiet as you would’ve liked, because the moment the emperor laid eyes on you sneaking through the maze with a servant boy, he was instantly intrigued. Did someone dare to have an affair with his own staff right under his nose, at his own engagement party? What kind of woman were you exactly? Excusing himself, he followed carefully behind.

When you arrived at the kitchen and the emperor realized you’d snuck out of his lavish party just to convey your thanks to his chef, he was touched. And he couldn’t help but be drawn to the ways your eyes lit up when you discussed potential new recipes for the chef to try, or the way your brows furrowed as you wondered aloud if certain ingredients would mix together well or not, or the way you emphatically pleaded with the chef to impart his knowledge to your own kitchen staff like you’d melt and die if he didn’t. 

He stifled a laugh and then, realizing his own actions, wondered what on earth he was hiding his presence for. This was his palace, after all. He stepped out of the shadows, clearing his throat. “You know, the royal palace doesn’t hire just anybody. Of course my staff is well accomplished.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks when you heard his voice behind you and you turned to him, burying your chin deep into your chest as you bowed lower than you’d ever bowed in your entire life. “Your highness! I apologize; I didn’t see you there. Forgive me.” 

The kitchen staff followed, bowing low and humbly. 

He gestured for them to rise up. “There’s no need for that. I thank you for taking such great care of my party guest.”

They nodded and made their quick departure, leaving just you and the emperor all alone. Great.

“Well…I suppose I’ll be on my way as well. I’m sure you have more important people to see. Good day, your highness.” You gave him another respectful bow before turning away.

“Not so fast.”

You froze, nerves trembling within your veins. “Y-yes, your h-highness?”

Now he had to laugh aloud. “You speak so comfortably with mere kitchen staff and yet you find it difficult to speak to me?”

“With all due respect, your majesty, it is more difficult to speak to you. You require more care when speaking.” You admitted, though unsure why.

“Why? I’m just another man, same as them.”

You raised a brow at that. Man or not, emperor or not, he was being rather dense. “You are not ‘just a man’. You are this kingdom’s ruler. One does not speak to the emperor the way they would a friend.”

“So I’m not the emperor then. Not today. Today, I’m just a friend. So talk to me.”

This guy was going to give you a heart attack for real. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was baiting you into being improper only to reprimand you, or if he genuinely wanted something as simple as true conversation. But, as you gazed into his eyes, you thought you glimpsed a hint of loneliness behind them. Like maybe he never asked to be emperor. Like maybe he never asked to be so far above his peers that no one dared to hold a conversation with him. 

So, completely forgetting your original intention of avoiding him, you decided to humor him. You talked with him. The two of you wandered the palace grounds, talking about anything and everything under the sun. And you talked for so long that they sent out a search party for him.

You stifled a laugh as he pulled you deeper into the maze. “Are we supposed to be hiding from your guards? And at your own party?” You whispered. 

He grinned. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. Shh, they’re coming this way.” He slipped his hand over your mouth before yanking you behind a hedge. 

Once the guards had passed by, he removed his hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No, I don’t want this to end.”

You laughed. “Well, we do have to go back eventually. Or they’ll think I kidnapped you.”

“That’s a great idea; you should kidnap me.” He teased, nudging you with his arm.

You snorted. “And be beheaded? No, thank you.” 

“Who’s going to behead you? I’m the emperor, after all; what I say goes and under no circumstances is any harm to befall you.” His eyes gleamed, true and sincere. 

You smiled at him. You couldn’t help it. Somehow, in the span of a few hours, you’d become dear to him. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, the way he walked with you, the way he talked with you, the way he didn’t want to stop talking to you. You didn’t want to admit that he’d also become dear to you, so you opted instead for a witty rebuttal. 

“Oh, is that right? You weren’t saying that when you were convincing me to climb a palace wall with you ‘for the view’ and I almost fell off of said wall. Which made the view less impressive, by the way. It’s hard to get a good look when you’re falling through the air.” 

He laughed lightheartedly. “But did you fall? No, because I caught you. So, as I said, I won’t allow any harm to come to you.”

“Oh, my hero.” You pressed your hands to your chest dramatically, to which he gave an exaggerated (yet entertained) scoff. You wanted to laugh at his theatrics as you were sure he wanted to laugh at yours. But you knew it was getting time for the fun to reach its end. “We should really get back. They’ll become suspicious that we’ve disappeared together.” 

“And what suspicions could they surmise from our time together?” His voice was light and amused- clear evidence that he was still in the mood for games. 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe that you’ve chosen to make me your empress or something.”

“And what if I have?” His teasing tone vanished in an instant. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “Don’t jest- I’d be a ridiculous choice. Besides, it’s rude to neglect your other party guests and then refuse to even consider them for the position. We can’t have the emperor scorning all of his high ranking guests; it would be chaos at best.”

“So I’ll make an appearance. Apologize for my behavior. Flash a smile here, a wink there. All will be well.” 

You rolled your eyes, amusement dancing on your curved lips. “And, once again, you’re beloved by everyone. The end.”

“Beloved by everyone except one.”

“One? Who would dare?” You teased.

“You.”

You almost coughed up your heart, but you refused to let your emotions guide your reaction. “That’s untrue. I’m quite fond of you. Kind of like a pet.” You opted instead for humor, once again, your default armor of choice.

His eyes narrowed. “A…pet? Would a…’pet’ do this?” In an instant, he had you pinned up against the column of the gazebo, lips meeting yours in a sudden burst of heat. 

You wanted to drown in his kiss. You’d spent so long resisting his dazzling eyes and his charming smile, but when it came to his intoxicating lips? You didn’t stand a chance. You kissed him back, against your better judgement, and when he felt you give in to him, his smirk curled against your lips. 

“So, I’ll see you tonight then? After I’m done playing the role of the responsible king?” He grinned unabashedly and it nearly made your chest cave in.

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” You murmured breathlessly, still drunk on the taste of him.

“Tonight, it’s just us. No bothersome party guests within sight. I’ll come to your room.”

You wanted to tell him no. To tell him that this was all moving too quickly. To tell him that he was wasting his energy on you. To tell him that you couldn’t be his. But all you could stutter out was, “T-tonight…” and he took it as your agreement. He kissed you once more and then disappeared into the maze, returning to his party shortly after.

Upon your delayed return to the party -having waited a few minutes after he had left so as not to arouse suspicion anymore than you already had- you feigned ill and retired to your chambers. You wanted to leave. To go for a walk, far, far away, and have that walk cure you of these unnecessary and unwanted feelings. You wanted to be anywhere but here, where he said he’d meet you. But your traitorous feet only allowed you enough energy to pace your room before finally giving up and collapsing on the bed, waiting for his return, longing for his return. 

You stared at the ceiling as you waited.

He couldn’t possibly pick you to be his empress, could he? He must have been joking, right? How were you going to tell him the real reason why you couldn’t be his wife? Why you shouldn’t be his wife. How were you going to let him down easy?

You bit down on your lip until it hurt. But…then again, would it really be so bad to be his concubine? To let him coax you into bed? To pretend you could be something to him every time he held you, to ignore the way you felt when he’d leave in the morning, attend to another concubine’s needs? You shook your head, discouraging the idea and jolting you back to reality.

He would come tonight, looking for your love, and you’d simply say you had none to give him. You’d deny the thundering in your heart and you’d tell him why it could never work between the two of you and then he’d be disappointed but ultimately he’d understand that you were a poor choice to begin with and then you’d return to your home town and act as if you never had such pounding in your chest to begin with. You’d forget him and he’d forget you. Or, more likely, he’d forget you, and you’d spend the rest of your life trying to explain away the aching in every fiber of your being. But that was how it should be. You thought you had already made peace with the fact that you’d never be anyone’s wife; it shouldn’t have pained you so much not to be his in particular. You were getting greedy, getting selfish. You wouldn’t wish your companionship on any man desiring a family, not now that you knew what you knew about yourself. And you certainly wouldn’t wish it on him, someone you’d genuinely begun to care about (and someone you would have to train yourself to forget you ever cared about). 

So before he even knocked on the door, having heard his footsteps in the hall (and having been embarrassed that you’d already memorized the sound), you ushered him inside your room, and closed the door before anyone could spot the two of you together. And before his excitement at your supposed eagerness could take hold of him, you made sure to express your denial of his advances as plainly as you could. 

“I don’t understand. So you…agreed to let me come to your room, you yank me into your room once I arrive, and now you say you don’t want me?” His brows furrowed, hurt and confusion clear as day across his face. 

“I didn’t say I don’t want you. I said we can’t be together.” You attempted to soften the blow but it pained you to even say the words.

Surprisingly, your response worked wonders on him. His tension eased immediately upon hearing your words. “So you do want me.”

Your eyes widened, panic shooting through your veins. “That’s not what I-”

“I know. But it’s what you feel, right? So whatever is making you think we can’t be together, I’ll figure it out.” His voice was confident, reassured. There was no hint of arrogance or exaggeration in sight. He was simply speaking the truth; he would clear a path for you to be by his side, no matter what it took. And that only made you want to be by his side more. 

But you couldn’t.

“Jinshi, you don’t underst-”

“Zuigetsu. You can call me by my real name.”

Your words froze in your throat. No one called the emperor by his real name. No one would dare. You half expected your head to be sent flying just at the thought of calling him by his real name. 

“There’s no way that I-”

“Please. I’ve never heard anyone say my name.”

Well, crap. You couldn’t deny him when he pleaded. You almost couldn’t deny him anything. And you didn’t want to. You wanted to be the woman he swept off her feet. You wanted to be the woman by his side. “Zui….Zuigetsu.” You murmured weakly.

His complexion brightened immediately, eyes brimming with joy. “It sounds so much more perfect than I thought it would.” His thumb ran across your lips, eliciting a shiver from you. There was no lust in his actions, only pure, unadulterated happiness, and it was the kind of happiness you could get lost in.

So, throwing your better judgement out the window once again, you indulged him. You lost yourself in him, lost hours to his welcome company.

You’d assumed he’d wanted to enter your bedchambers for superficial purposes, for more primal purposes, and you probably would’ve entertained his fantasies until reality took hold of you again. But he simply wanted a more private environment to continue his earlier conversation with you, asking more of your likes and dislikes, begging you to repeat an earlier story he’d found entertaining, telling you stories of his own, until you were laughing so hard he had to slip a hand over your mouth to avoid drawing unwelcome attention, grinning as he did so. 

So the night came and went, and you played pretend to your heart’s satisfaction. And then the morning came and you regretted your actions once more.

You couldn’t keep doing this. Not to him. Not to yourself. It would only make leaving even harder. No, today would be the day when you’d tell him the truth. The dreaded truth. The devastating truth.

So you sent a messenger to his room with gifts you’d brought from your hometown and you invited him to join you for conversation, one last time. 

“Spoiling me already?” He plopped down beside you, all giddy and glowing.

“I thought you might like the treats. Since you were telling me you’d never tried them before.” What were you doing? You were supposed to just spit out the truth and here you were, small talking him.

“I very much enjoyed them, but I think I’d enjoy them more with you, so I saved some to have with our tea.” He smiled, sincerity practically dripping from his lips, as he offered you the tray you’d previously sent to his room. 

“I’m afraid I can’t stay for tea.”

“Oh, I see. You’re doing the thing where you push me away again, claiming that we’re not meant to be. I told you; I’ll take care of everything. Do you not trust me?” For such a serious conversation, his tone was relaxed, like he was already assured of your feelings. You cursed your own carelessness for allowing your feelings to surface so plain for him to see. 

“It’s not that-”

“Then what is it?”

He was going to be the death of you. But you may as well dig the grave yourself, if your relationship was already within the Grim Reaper’s grasp. “I can’t have children.” There. You’d said it. Your awful secret had finally come to light.

You could tell he was not expecting that, because his features had frozen in place, his breath trapped within his lungs. Maybe he was expecting you to have a scorned past lover, maybe he was expecting you to merely be insecure about inheriting the title of empress. Whatever he’d been expecting, it can’t have been nearly as bad as the dreadful truth.

The truth that you yourself had not yet made peace with. You’d cried yourself to sleep the day the doctor told you and you cried almost every night since then. You’d always dreamed of marrying for love (as rare as it was during these times) and starting a family with your loved one. And now those dreams were nothing more than a relic of the past. The past belonging to a happier you. To a healthier you. To the ideal version of yourself. To the version of yourself you wish you could present to him right now. But you couldn’t change your reality, much like you couldn’t change your DNA. Your fate had already been signed, sealed, and delivered to you, and all that was left was to accept it.

“Okay.”

Time stuttered to a stop. “W-what did you say?”

“I said, okay. I told you, no matter what it is, I’ll figure it out.”

You sighed, exasperation seeping into your voice, “This isn’t something you can just figure out. I physically cannot have children. Do you understand what that means? It means you won’t be able to carry on the royal line with me. It means you’re better off with someone else.”

“I didn’t say I’d fix it. I said I’d figure it out. And I’ve already figured out that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, who cares if we can’t have kids? Marry me.”

Your stomach tangled in a knot. “I can’t marry you. I’m not right for you. Besides being physically limited, I’m also extremely selfish. I won’t want to share you with another concubine.”

“So don’t share then. Marry me.”

“You don’t understand. You would be giving up the idea of children altogether. That’s a difficult decision to make; I wouldn’t make it so lightly.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand. I don’t make this decision lightly; I make it with all the love I have in my heart because I love and want you, and only you. So marry me.”

In that moment, you burst into tears. You knew you shouldn’t be bawling like this in front of the emperor; your parents would’ve been ashamed. But you couldn’t help yourself any longer. All those nights, attempting to comfort yourself when no one else could. All those days, wishing for your imperfections to simply disappear. And here he was, offering to love you through it all. He didn’t see someone in need of fixing, he simply saw you and wanted you. And he didn't see you as an imperfection, he saw you as perfect for him.

And if you couldn’t give him children, you made up your mind that you’d damn well give him every ounce of love that you had to give, and every day of the rest of your life.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @h3art-love @ouiouimochi @minasfwoopyponytail

[kitasgloves]

I saw in your request rules page that you write male reader! Could you write a Dazai x male reader smut, with some brat taming (of Dazai), maybe with the reader topping too if that’s not too much to ask?

I almost never see male reader as an option on blogs like this so I’m lowkey really excited, as a male reader myself who never has anything to read 😅

Brat Season

— ♬ bottom! Dazai Osamu x top! Reader, NSFW, male reader, sexually explicit content, brat-taming, oral receiving, facefucking, hair pulling, face slapping, unprotected sex, spanking, creampie, absolute filth, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 3.5k words, no beta

— ♬ omg I agree with you fr, it's so rare to find some male reader content here but I'm happy to deliver and I had fun writing this, hope you enjoyyyy <3

It's a known fact that Dazai Osamu can get pretty annoying. Kunikida Doppo can corroborate how much he has to deal with that lazy bandage-wasting machine. Unfortunately, it's a prominent trait one must witness if you are somewhat associated with the brunette. Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai's former partner, has recalled countless moments where he swears a vein was about to burst to experience how annoying Dazai was. Others might dismiss Dazai's annoying antics or even laugh at them. But it takes a resilient individual to tolerate Dazai Osamu.

It wasn't clear how you and Dazai met but you have impressed everyone in Dazai's circle with how infinitely patient you seemed. During your dating stage, Dazai had tried multiple times to persuade you to do double suicide with him, he still does to this day, but you always shook your head and smiled at him. What fascinated the brunette about you was you weren't hot-headed. Admittedly, Dazai was drawn to men whom he can easily piss off and be entertained with, however, you didn't possess that quality.

You were patient, gentle, and kindhearted. It made Dazai suspicious of how genuine you were with him. The dates were filled with jokes and laughter, he liked the way you smiled and laughed at whatever he said. But once the growing affection becomes inevitable, Dazai becomes wary. He had trouble with vulnerability that's why he comes across as fraudulate sometimes. It's like he's often wearing a façade. He couldn't fathom how, but you saw through him.

And it terrifies Dazai. He knows he's imperfect and can get ugly. He's aware of his flaws and God knows how he's full of it. What if you're disgusted? What if you turn away? What if...what if you leave him? But when you grabbed his hand one night and kissed his hand down his bandaged arm, he crumbles. When you slowly undressed him and kissed all the parts of him that he found distasteful, his heart began to beat differently. You unraveled Dazai and tenderly accepted him.

The brunette behaved differently depending on who was there. With co-workers, he's lazy and comedic. With enemies, he's calm and calculative, and with you, he's shamelessly bratty. On the surface, it seemed like Dazai was the dominant one in the relationship with how you often obey his requests to the point that you're letting him walk all over you.

"You should teach that idiot a lesson"

Kunikida once said to you. Dazai isn't heartless, you're aware that he wasn't taking advantage of you or using you for his gain. He's just being typically annoying, it would be a lie if you didn't find it charming. Your boyfriend would talk your ear off, scam you into buying food for him, or trick you into doing a favor. He'd lovingly call you his 'loyal dog', even if it sounded a bit insulting, you still let him do whatever he wanted.

But everybody has limits, right?

Today wasn't going well for you. It began in the morning with Dazai oversleeping in your shared bed, you realize you're running late for work. You rushed into the bathroom and the water was fucking freezing, did Dazai use up all the warm water last night? You rush to work with no coffee. Your boss decided to give you a stack of paperwork due today. Later at lunch, your uniform gets stained with food. Your co-workers keep borrowing shit from you and not returning them. The paperwork you rushed to finish turned out to be incorrect, your boss wasn't pleased and commanded you to fix the paperwork by tomorrow. You're traveling home with a massive headache of how shitty the day has been.

"I'm home"

You sluggishly closed the door to your apartment. Dazai was resting on the couch flipping through his favorite book. You were starving and exhausted as you plopped right beside your boyfriend.

"I cooked dinner for you, babe!"

Dazai beamed enthusiastically at you. There was an involuntary shiver from you, the last time Dazai cooked dinner, your apartment almost caught fire. Nonetheless, you sat with your boyfriend at the table and stared at the abomination that he called dinner. Two bites in and you decided to order takeout. Now, you were busy fixing the paperwork you accidentally fucked up earlier at work. You wanted to get everything done and get to bed as soon as possible. Maybe tomorrow might be even better.

You were too busy scanning the errors of your paperwork when Dazai unceremoniously crawled onto your lap like a cat. He grinned at you while you gave him a tired look.

"Can you please move out of the way, babe? I'm trying to finish some work"

The brunette pouts and slowly gets off your lap, he stands next to your chair as you resume your work. He decides to rub his hands on your shoulders from behind you, obviously being suggestive with his touching. But you were not in the mood.

"Dazai, stop that"

"Aw, am I distracting you?"

"Yes, I'm sorry but I'm not in the mood tonight"

Your boyfriend silently huffs and crosses his arms. He lingers around you as he formulates a plan to get you to pay attention to him. From the corner of your eye, you spot Dazai creeping in and stealing the paper from your hands. You bite back a groan as he scans the contents of the paper.

"Now, what does this paperwork have that I don't?"

"Osamu, give that back"

"What is it about this sheet of paper that keeps hogging all of my boyfriend's attention?"

Dazai raised a brow and looked at the paper and then at you. A hand runs down from your haggard face as you sternly look at your boyfriend.

"Come on, no games tonight babe, I need to get this done—"

You stared in horror as Dazai decided to rip the paper in half. A cunning smirk was on his face as he discarded the torn paperwork on the floor. You were motionless. Your boyfriend waltzes beside your table picks up the rest of the paperwork and trashes it on the floor before stomping his foot on it.

"Osamu, what the fuck!"

Dazai laughs mischievously as he takes in your distraught expression. He was expecting you to cry or yell at him, either reaction would mean he would get your attention anyway. But what he was not anticipating was for you to stand up and grab him by the hair. He yelps.

"Ow! What are you—"

"What the fuck was that for?"

Your voice was deeper and indicated how serious the situation was. Dazai blinks at you, and the cunning look on his face vanishes.

"You weren't paying attention to me and—"

"Can't you see I was busy? Shit, I need all of that done by tomorrow! My boss is going to kill me!"

"So what?"

Your eye twitches as your grip on Dazai's hair tightens, and your boyfriend winces.

"So what? Unbelievable. You couldn't wait for a fucking hour and decide to be a...a..."

The way your eyebrows furrowed and your gaze darkened at him made Dazai involuntary gulp. This was a new look from you. He has never seen you so...angry before. And holy fuck was it a massive turn-on for him. A sultry smirk slowly appears on his lips.

"A what?"

"Like a fucking brat"

A vein almost pops from your brain when you hear Dazai giggling. God, he was intentionally testing your patience, was he? You grit your teeth as you force your boyfriend down to his knees. He stumbles down on the floor with a quiet yelp as you sit back on your chair. Dazai watches you undo your tie and grab both of his limber wrists. You tried both of his wrists together and grabbed his hair again. You leaned close to stare at him right in the eye.

"So, you want to be a brat tonight?"

"If it gets your undivided attention, why not?"

He was challenging you. There was a bitter chuckle from you as you pulled on his hair tighter. God, Kunikida was right, you need to teach Dazai a lesson. Your boyfriend watched with glimmering eyes as you began to undo your belt and pulled them down along with your boxers. His mouth begins to salivate at the sight of your slowly hardening cock in front of him. Dazai instinctively tries to dive his face onto your lap but you stop him by slapping him hard on the face.

Dazai was stunned by the slap. You've never hit him before and he believed you never had the heart to. He slowly turns his face to look up at you with a reddening cheek and wide eyes.

"You think you deserve my cock, huh?"

You scoffed down at him. Your boyfriend swallows and stumbles to find the words to reply. You grabbed his jaw and gave him a condescending smile.

"What makes you think you can suck my cock and get away with it?"

Holy shit. Dazai's heart skipped several beats as he listened to your gruff voice. He was shamelessly turned on with this new side of you that he's already hard in his pants.

"...I'll be good, I promise"

"Bullshit"

"Please, [Name]"

You rolled your eyes when Dazai batted his lashes at you. Eventually, you sighed down at him and harshly tugged down his bottom lip before lining the tip of your dick with his mouth. His dark brown orbs shine with delight.

"Stay still"

You grunted down at him. Your boyfriend eagerly opens his mouth as you slipped your cock inside. You bit your lip when Dazai moaned around your length, his eyes merely rolling back at the taste of your cock in his mouth. He was ready to bob his head when you suddenly grabbed the back of his head and pushed him down on your dick.

"Oh fuck"

You moaned when the tip of your cock reaches the back of the brunette's throat. Dazai's breath stutters as he struggles not to choke on your length. You didn't give him time to adjust as you started grabbing his hair and thrusting your dick in and out of his mouth. Dazai lets out a choked moan as tears begin to rapidly form in his eyes. His hands balled into fists as your tie restrained him from touching you.

"Shit, that's it"

You start to facefuck Dazai at a faster pace. The brunette tries to breathe through his nostrils but every thrust is knocking the air out of his lungs. Saliva was seeping out the corners of your boyfriend's mouth at it coats your length. You watched amusingly at Dazai staring up at you with tears rolling down his cheeks, the way he looked pathetic on his knees with your cock sliding in and out of his mouth drew you close to your release.

"Hah—fuck, I'm close—"

Dazai watched you panting. He struggles to keep his vision straight, but the lack of air and the taste of your cock on his tongue overwhelmed him so much. Every time the tip hits the back of his throat, it makes his cock throb in his pants. Fuck, he wants to feel you inside of him.

"Hey brat"

You breathlessly called out to him. He blinks up at you as a few more tears slide down his cheeks. You were facefucking him intensely that snot was slowly running down his nose and his immense spit was trailing from his chin down to his neck. You were fucking your cock so deep in him that his nose was constantly brushing your pubic hair.

"I'm close, you better swallow every drop"

There was a strangled sob from Dazai as the pace of your thrusts went even faster at the approach of your orgasm. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows in concentration as you used Dazai's mouth as a fleshlight.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

The brunette goes cross-eyed when your seed floods his mouth. He never felt you cum this much that he's afraid that he won't be able to swallow everything. You went still with your cock in Dazai's mouth while your head was thrown back when you came. After your orgasm passed, you pulled out and watched Dazai cough profusely. Excess cum spits out of his mouth and down to the floor. Your boyfriend continued to cough and gasp for air when you suddenly slapped him on the cheek again.

"Didn't I tell you to swallow everything?"

Dazai only pathetically looks up at you and wheezes. You pushed his head down to the floor.

"Lick everything off and make sure you won't miss a drop"

A dark smile spreads on your face when your boyfriend whimpers and weakly cleans the cum off the floor with his tongue. While he was busy with his face on the floor, you reached for one of the drawers and pulled out a bottle of lube. The sound of you popping the lid off catches Dazai's attention.

"Finally"

"Oh? You think I'm going to fuck you now? You haven't learned your lesson yet, brat"

With that, you close the lid and place it on top of your desk. Dazai pouts. You stood up and sat on the bed, you patted the space beside you, commanding him to crawl over there. The brunette stumbles and makes his way beside you. Dazai yelped when you effortlessly manhandled him and flipped him to his stomach, his hands were still tied. He shivers when he feels you unbuttoning his pants and sliding them off his bandaged legs. You laughed at the sight of his red and hardened cock.

"Wow, you like it when I facefuck you, huh?"

Dazai grumbles and tries to hide his face against one of the pillows. Your hands trailed from his back down his ass making him arch his back. You hummed when your palm rests on one of his buttcheek.

"Count"

"What—"

SLAP!

A resonating slap echoed in the room as Dazai recoiled. Did you just fucking spank him? That has never happened before. He looked back at you.

"What the fuck was—"

"I said, count, brat"

It's hilarious how Dazai immediately went silent. You drew back your hand and gave his ass another smack, and he flinches.

"One—"

He breathes out. The stinging sensation of your hand slapping his asscheek sent a delightful shiver down his spine. Dazai bites back a moan when you slapped his ass again.

"Two"

"Count louder, slut"

SLAP!

"Three!"

The brunette's voice sounded strained. Fuck, his asscheek hurt, but it hurts good. Plus, the way your hair look disheveled, your face stern and sweaty, and your hand spanking his ass made you look so dominating that it makes him impossibly harder.

SLAP!

"Fo-four! Fuck, I need you [Name]—"

SLAP!

"Five! Shit! [Name] please!"

SLAP!

You didn't say a word as you continued to spank him. His asscheek was completely red. Tears were forming in Dazai's eyes again.

"[Name]—"

"Did I tell you to stop counting?"

"No—"

SLAP!

"Six! Fuck!"

Dazai whines and you watch in wicked amusement when a stray tear escapes the corner of his eye.

SLAP!

"Se-seven!"

SLAP!

"Eight!"

"That's it, keep going, brat"

Your boyfriend begins to sniff. He hated how he was deeply turned on by how mean you are. Maybe he should continue being a brat more—

SLAP!

"Nine! Hghh, shit"

Dazai's asscheek begins to feel sore, but there's no way he's going to yield. He has to stay strong even if you're about to give him a hundred spanks until his skin bleeds.

SLAP!

"Ten!"

Your hand caressed your boyfriend's red asscheek. You see Dazai's shoulder shaking as he buries his face against the pillow. You sneakily went to fetch the lube on the desk and coated your dick with lube. You grabbed both of your boyfriend's hips to flip him over to his back. You smiled at the pitiful expression on his face. Dazai's eyes were glassy and there were dry tear stains on his cheeks. His hair was tangled as sweat decorated his skin.

"You look wonderfully pathetic"

"Th—Thanks, glad you like it"

Dazai's chuckle was cut short when you wrapped a hand around his bandaged neck. He gasps and looks at you owlishly. He can feel your lubed cock teasing his entrance and it makes him whimper.

"Poor baby, do you want my cock inside of you?"

Your boyfriend nods frantically but you squeeze the sides of his neck harder.

"What makes a brat like you deserving of my cock?"

"...I—I've been a good—!"

"Oh really? You're going to be a good boy now?"

"Yes! Fuck, please"

When the tip of your cock slowly presses inside of Dazai, he almost lets out a cry of joy. Gradually, you slide your cock inside of your boyfriend until you're fully sheathed within him. With your hand still squeezing his neck, Dazai lets out a shuddered breath. You start a slow torturous pace, feeling his walls clenching around your length. Fuck, he felt so warm and tight as if you haven't been inside of him countless times before.

"Fuck—hah—please go faster"

"Don't tell me what to do, brat"

You spat at him and he whines. Dazai shuts his eyes as he endures the slow pace. Eventually, you started driving your cock deep into him, hitting that special spot that makes him moan wantonly. Your boyfriend throws his head back when you begin to thrust in him slowly and deeply as he wraps his legs around your waist.

"Oh fuck—"

Your hand was squeezing his neck harder as your thrusts knocked out every breath from his lungs. You gazed down at your boyfriend trying to keep his eyes from rolling back. You bit your lip and wrapped your free hand around his poor hard cock. You gave it a few languid strokes and Dazai arches his back with a louder moan.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, slut"

You warned him and he goes crossed-eyed. You stop stroking his cock and he whimpers at the loss. You decide to hook one of his bandaged legs over your shoulder before slamming deep into him. Your boyfriend yelps as you start a faster pace. The sound of your hips slapping against his ass echoed in the room. Dazai can feel your cock sliding in and out of his ass swiftly, the tip kissing the deepest part inside of him that makes his eyes roll back and his toes curl.

"Come on, why are you quiet now? Lemme hear how much you love my cock inside of you"

You cooed. Dazai's head lolled forward, watching you fuck your cock deep inside of him as his pathetic dick slapped against his abdomen with each hard thrust.

"Hghh—fuck! You feel so fucking good—hah—"

You smile and reach to brush the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. The sound of Dazai gasping and moaning, the sight of your cock being swallowed greedily by his hole, the feeling of your cock abusing that perfect spot inside of him, and the smell of sex in the air all drove you to the edge as you can feel your orgasm approaching again.

"Hah—[Name]—oh, ah—fuck!"

Dazai couldn't even form a coherent sentence with how you were pounding into him. Fuck, he wants to cum. He needs to cum. Your boyfriend's lip wobbles as he looks up at you through his wet lashes.

"Can I—shit—Please, let me cum—"

"Fucking wait, brat. I'm close"

You gritted your teeth as you began to desperately reach your release. You begin to brutally thrust into him making his jaw slack as his eyes blissfully rolled back. Dazai is convinced he's going to cum with the way you're using him like he's some sort of fuck toy, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. As your peak becomes unbearably close, you wrap a hand around your boyfriend's throat again to bring his face close before slamming your lips against his. Your hips begin to stutter and by the third brutal thrust, your seed spills inside of him.

Dazai moans into the kiss as he feels your warm cum decorating his walls. However, you didn't pull away as you reached for Dazai's cock and begin to stroke it briskly.

"Oh fuckkkk—"

The brunette moans as he bucks his hips against your hand. It didn't take long until Dazai was convulsing underneath you as his cum coats both your hand and his abdomen. Gently, you start to pull out before collapsing next to your boyfriend on the bed. There was a long period where you both tried to catch your breath. Dazai chuckles.

"That was fucking mindblowing"

Your face flushed as you ran a hand down your sweaty face. As you processed the entire thing, you couldn't help but smile. Who knew losing your temper while taming your bratty boyfriend could lead to mindblowing sex? Dazai is convinced that everything is sweet and dandy until he turns his face to see you scowling at him, and his smile drops.

"You fucking ruined my paperwork"

"Uhh...round two?"

"No, you're getting punished, for real"

"And what? You're going to spank me one hundred times?"

"No, you're getting no cuddles and kisses for a week"

"WHAT"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[diana-bluewolf]

It’s this blog's first birthday! 🥳 Wanted to gather some of my fav drawings and thoughts about being in the fandom.

Being in a fandom is not always easy, but it is definitely worth it. 

1. It’s a perfect soft-skill trainer. It teaches me to focus on what I can control (like my reactions) rather than what I can’t (other people’s opinions). To be myself and not be ashamed of my interests. To stop overthinking and just enjoy the process. To accept imperfection as an inevitable part of any art…and myself. To stop comprehending the terms ‘self-indulgent’ and ‘cringe’ as synonyms. To prioritise my own well-being to avoid burn-out. And most importantly, not to cringe at my art I posted a day ago 🤣

2. It's a powerful therapy tool. I mean, have you tried to write an OC? Poor things, I don't envy them, but it turned out to be a perfect instrument to understand my own head's wiring better. It's like my subconscious is speaking to me through my OC's actions. I started this blog at one of the most challenging times in my life (let's just say that characters with external and internal scars appeal to me on a personal level. Not to be dramatic. Ok, I am, sorry, it's my only flaw), and it affected Chris severely, to the extent that I couldn't even imagine it would. But all the insights I got about myself via him are priceless. 

3. It’s the best source of inspiration. I had been in the art block for years, but seeing your guys cool art reignited my desire to draw. It was difficult (to say the least) to start posting amateur art about my MC on the blog that was followed for the screenshots of the popular characters, but I’m glad I did because, in another case, I would have never met some of my friends here. My art style is inconsistent as I keep experimenting, so some of my drawings are way better than others, but I’m still growing and proud of it. 

4. And most importantly, it's brought me together with some of the coolest people in my life. I'm so grateful to everyone who follows/followed me. Thank you so much for your support now or in the past, even if you just lurk. If you regularly appear on my notifs, I do recognise you and am very grateful. Even if I don't always respond - sorry, it's just because my social battery is often very low. I'm the most introverted introvert irl, even though I don't seem like one here. I'm training to overcome my social anxiety here, can you tell? 🤣 

Here I wanted to write something about my moots, but…Well, I have no idea how to continue whatever I had intended to write because just a thought of you all got me terribly overwhelmed with warm fuzzy feelings 😑 I blame you, guys 😤 So I will just write that I love you, but know this is an understatement.

Love this fandom, its creativity and all the incredibly talented and supportive people here. You guys are the best 🤗

[diodykus]

my butch fantasy

she laughs at my jokes, glancing at me with a knowing gaze as she comments on teaching me a thing or two. her hair, masculine in cut and dark in color. her confidence is addictive and it makes me want to pounce on her at the first opportunity given. her facial features are lost to me, left in the thrill of celebration. the only thing that lingers in my fantasy is her hair, and the sleazy appeal she exudes.

i have limited experience when it comes to love and lust. i can only imitate that which i have read. i want some hot, confident european butch to be annoying and invasive. to mock me for my downfalls, yet laugh when i bite back. to save me from my home country, and invite me to come split rent with her in an old apartment somewhere. napoli, nice, norden–somewhere that has a new culture, but not an entirely unfamiliar environment.

i want to eat fruit with her, to eat her out as dessert. to be mutually obsessed with one another, being belittled in a teasing manner as i snap back–pointing out her so-called imperfections. i want to kiss said imperfections, describing their sweetness and biting them when she tries to belittle my compliments. to worship each piece as if she was an altar i dedicated my life to. i want to explore clubs and parties with her, just to be pulled away from the festivities.

there will always be space for us in the back of the club, in that small room with a bare mattress on the floor. it would be a game of dominance, a grab for control. neither of us can handle one role, both too preoccupied with wrestling to be on top, to provide the other with as much pleasure as possible. it is a competition–who can last the longest, who can get the loudest, who can bite the hardest. everything falls away when i am on top, one task on my mind: her. our bodies mold, the only language i can focus on is the sound of her body against mine. my teasing is only put to an end when she decides she wants a taste, and i am forced onto my back.

domestic life is not one i have envisioned for myself, yet i cannot help but have trouble getting the blurry image of her out of my mind. the life i could have, the fantasy that consumes my desires. we would not be perfect, but in my mind nothing could diminish my views of her as a masterpiece. perfection in human form, to be challenged and loved.

we would encourage one another to grow, accepting that life is short and we will never be able to experience everything we desire. i will not only adapt for her, but learn as i morph myself to accommodate her fantasies just as she lives as mine. her carefree nature inspires me to take risks, yet her maturity reminds me that life is something to be taken seriously. my decisive nature mixed with her unworried behavior would meld, creating stories and experiences that help one another grow.

she does not exist for me, just as i do not exist for her. God, do I wish I existed for her though

[redux-iterum]

this might be silly to ask here, but i think you guys give neat advice! i don't know if either of you have experienced this yourselves, but if you have, how do you get over writing anxiety? i find that i place too much value in validation and will sometimes talk myself out of writing something because i fear it's imperfect. is this something either of you have dealt with? if so, how did you get over it?

Perfectionist anxiety is a bitch, and this very much sounds like it! The main piece of advice I can give here is to embrace the truth that things you make sometimes won’t be amazing, and will never be perfect. Perfection is a lie creatives tell themselves is achievable. It simply isn’t. All perfectionism can do is keep you from being happy during the process of making art. It will never do anything else. The concept of “perfect” is your enemy. It’s just going to make you miserable the whole time you’re writing or painting or whatever, because you know what you’ll get isn’t perfect, and you’re striving for it anyway, so you aren’t having fun. And really, that’s what we’re all here for, isn’t it? Fun?

The main thing that’s saved me from reworking stuff over and over again is a lesson I’ve learned, which is being able to say to yourself, “Well, it’s not exactly how I wanted it to be. I don’t know if I like this one. Oh well. Moving on.” There is an immense power in “oh well, moving on” that will keep you creating even when you make something you actively hate. That’s not to say you shouldn’t strive for improvement, nor should you not attempt to do your best. What the goal here is, is the ability to step back from your need for perfection, look over what you’ve made, and be able to both critique it and accept its flaws, and then head off to the next thing. “Fuck it” is your greatest tool here. Ain’t the next Lord of the Rings? Fuck it. Next story.

Take it this way: you’ve learned something new every time you catch a flaw in your writing, which means you’ll do better next time. You are always scaling up in quality as long as you’re seeking to improve. Again, you will never be perfect, but you will be better than you were before. That’s something to celebrate, not scold yourself for! And the only way to do that is to say “fuck it” and keep writing. You can’t think yourself into greatness. You have to create okay stuff first and learn from those mistakes.

As for validation: attention from strangers is nice, but there’s a good exposure therapy in posting something and receiving crickets over and over. You get used to it and gradually learn to lessen its value in your head. I’ve personally been able to adjust to not getting much attention on my personal projects and art that I love so dearly, and just moving forward anyways, because I’m excited to do it, and that’s whose opinion I should care about. It’s the love of the game at this point for me. Importantly, it’s been able to teach me to find the true value in art, which is the process of creation, not the creation itself. I utterly adore making things, to the point that I don’t even really care about the end product anymore or the attention it may or may not get. Sure, I want it to be good and get notes, but what’s the point if I’m not enjoying myself while making it? What’s the value in perfection and attention when I’m miserable because that's all I'm doing this for? I’m the one that loves these characters and this setting the most, right? What else can I do but serve them as best as I can, and keep going as long as I need to? It's no loss if the entire internet doesn't love it the way I do. I'm creating it, and that makes me happy. What else need there be?

That’s how I think of it, at least. I hope this helped a little.

[dreamweave01]

Greetings from Paul

1This letter is from Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus, appointed by the command of God our Savior and Christ Jesus, who gives us hope.

2I am writing to Timothy, my true son in the faith. May God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord give you grace, mercy, and peace. Warnings against False Teachings

3When I left for Macedonia, I urged you to stay there in Ephesus and stop those whose teaching is contrary to the truth. 4Don’t let them waste their time in endless discussion of myths and spiritual pedigrees. These things only lead to meaningless speculations,a which don’t help people live a life of faith in God.b

5The purpose of my instruction is that all believers would be filled with love that comes from a pure heart, a clear conscience, and genuine faith. 6But some people have missed this whole point. They have turned away from these things and spend their time in meaningless discussions. 7They want to be known as teachers of the law of Moses, but they don’t know what they are talking about, even though they speak so confidently.

8We know that the law is good when used correctly. 9For the law was not intended for people who do what is right. It is for people who are lawless and rebellious, who are ungodly and sinful, who consider nothing sacred and defile what is holy, who kill their father or mother or commit other murders. 10The law is for people who are sexually immoral, or who practice homosexuality, or are slave traders,c liars, promise breakers, or who do anything else that contradicts the wholesome teaching 11that comes from the glorious Good News entrusted to me by our blessed God.

Paul’s Gratitude for God’s Mercy

12I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength to do his work. He considered me trustworthy and appointed me to serve him, 13even though I used to blaspheme the name of Christ. In my insolence, I persecuted his people. But God had mercy on me because I did it in ignorance and unbelief. 14Oh, how generous and gracious our Lord was! He filled me with the faith and love that come from Christ Jesus.

15This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”—and I am the worst of them all. 16But God had mercy on me so that Christ Jesus could use me as a prime example of his great patience with even the worst sinners. Then others will realize that they, too, can believe in him and receive eternal life. 17All honor and glory to God forever and ever! He is the eternal King, the unseen one who never dies; he alone is God. Amen.

Timothy’s Responsibility

18Timothy, my son, here are my instructions for you, based on the prophetic words spoken about you earlier. May they help you fight well in the Lord’s battles. 19Cling to your faith in Christ, and keep your conscience clear. For some people have deliberately violated their consciences; as a result, their faith has been shipwrecked. 20Hymenaeus and Alexander are two examples. I threw them out and handed them over to Satan so they might learn not to blaspheme God.

....

God is good. Follow what He says is right and stay away from what He says is wrong.

Ahh, thank you for sharing this passage with me! Paul is possibly one of my favorite apostles!

I've read this before, and find a lot of meaning in Paul's reminder that none of us are perfect - really, we're all in constant need of God's mercy and love.

I especially love verses 12-16; Paul specifically mentioning how God showed him patience and grace despite his past actions is really touching to me, because I know the Lord would show that same patience and grace to anyone, including myself.

One thing that I can definitely agree with Paul here is that Christ came into the world to save the imperfect - from the worst of humanity to the kindest souls, and everyone in between.

I know my own personal walk with God is a journey, and I'm so so grateful every day for His kindness and undeniable love. My faith in Him continues to deepen as I seek to live with a clear conscience and genuine faith, just as Paul encourages.

I know we might not see everything exactly the same, but I hope we can agree that love, humility, and grace should always lead the way in any conversation about God.

Thank you again for thinking of me! This absolutely made my day :)

[princesssarisa]

What are your favorite romantic tropes in love stories?

Good question. This requires some thought...

I generally like slow-burn and friends-to-lovers, including childhood friends-to-lovers. Dislike-to-friendship-to love is fine, as are characters who like each other but feign dislike because they're too proud or afraid to admit it (e.g. Beatrice and Benedick), but full-blown enemies-to-lovers (i.e. people who are dangerous to each other) I don't care for. What matters is that there be warmth, tenderness, joy, preferably humor, and understanding between them.

That said, I enjoy classic fairy tale Love At First Sight in the right context, as well as grand, sweeping Romantic passion, just as long as it's handled in a way that feels sincere, not shallow or caricatured.

I like couples whose personalities contrast with each other in complimentary ways, but also couples who have qualities in common that most other people around them don't share. For the best couples, both of these things are true.

I also insist (for the most part) on egalitarian pairings with mutual respect, mutual feelings, and mutual power in the relationship. If one partner has more power in terms of status, wealth, or other external factors, then the other has to equal it with the emotional power she wields (or sometimes he, but usually she). Equal character development on both sides is good too, and a good balance between that development and acceptance of each other, flaws and all. While I love Disney's Beauty and the Beast, I do slightly dislike the fact that the character development is so one-sided, with the Beast changing so much more than Belle does, and he changes so much that I have asked myself sometimes if Belle really loves him or if she just loves a role she's taught him to play. And part of what makes Pride and Prejudice so good a love story (at least to me) is the balance it strikes: despite pop culture misremembering it as a "woman changes man" story, Elizabeth and Darcy are both flawed and both change, yet both keep the same core personalities they always had, and both stay imperfect (improved, but imperfect), yet come together anyway.

I like "jaded and innocent" pairings too. Not necessarily "grumpy and ray of sunshine," but someone who's had a hard life that's left them cynical about the world and about their own place in it, paired with a younger and more idealistic person who unexpectedly helps them rediscover their own inner idealism, and who sees the goodness in them that they had lost sight of in themselves. I especially like these parings when the jaded partner is a woman, though the more common pairing of "innocent girl, jaded guy" is fine too.

For that matter, I always like couples that subvert gender stereotypes; I adore strong women and emotional men. One trope that's sometimes especially therapeutic for me is when a woman adores her male love interest, but values other things (her responsibilities, her morals, her loyalty to other women, etc.) just as much, if not slightly more, while to him, personal relationships are everything, particularly the love he shares with her. They have to somehow resolve this difference, which preferably they do without teaching her to prioritize her man above everything. I enjoy this because more often, we see it in reverse: to the woman, love is everything, but to her man, love is just one aspect of life, and other duties matter more to him than she does. I think my desire to invert this trope is part of why I've written a gender-bent version of The Magic Flute. Let the girl be the one who sets out to find romantic love, but then finds a bigger community and calling, and let the boy be the one who temporarily gets pushed aside (until they finally unite as one in the end) for a change!

An element of rock-solid loyalty is also a plus. I don't care much for on-and-off romance arcs. Which isn't to say that I only ship couples who are perfectly functional. Far from it! But I like a sense of "even if we fight, even if we say terrible things to each other, even if you hurt me or we hurt each other, I'm not giving up on you; or even if I do leave, I still care about you and I don't want you to suffer." This is one thing I like about Heathcliff and Cathy from Wuthering Heights, that lets me see a sublime beauty in their love amidst the toxicity: neither one would ever dream of permanently ending their relationship (though tragically, neither fully realizes this about the other until it's too late), and while they sometimes say terrible things to and about each other, they don't do terrible things to each other. I'll die on the hill that in the book, Heathcliff marries Isabella for her inheritance to spite Edgar, not to hurt Cathy, because Cathy knows he doesn't love Isabella and he knows she knows. They care more about each other's wellbeing than pop culture thinks they do.

To me, nothing is sexier than when a couple cares about each other's wellbeing; that's what love should be. I loathe seeing selfish, possessive love glorified just because it's "passionate." Support, generosity, empathy, sacrifices... those are things I like.

I hope this wasn't too much of a novel.

[loganrestarts]

Intentions

Most people make new year’s resolutions, but I’m never organized enough to have a plan for the year on January 1st. We're a month into the new year and I have a vision board (above) in my bullet journal, but most of the rest of the pages aren't even set up yet.

My birthday is at the end of January, so I decided to set my new year’s resolutions to start on my birthday. (Posted a few days late, whoops.)

These are my intentions for my 37th year:

1. Create Art Every Day

Most people have a fairly prescriptive view of what counts as “art.” Pencils and paper, paint brushes and canvases. I want to find the art in anything I make. I want to create something every day this year. To me, creating can be any number of things:

Drawing

Coloring

Painting

Calligraphy

Knitting

Crocheting

Writing

Journaling

Scrapbooking

Art, to me, is something I can point to when I’m done and say, “See? Look what I made.”

2. Learn New Things

I never had a formal art education. 

My parents were self-taught artists who pushed me to teach myself, but I was a kid without any guidance and with limited tools. No art classes, no books, no internet. I just drew for fun, without any structure or foundation of knowledge.

So it’s time to get studying. I’ve spent hours mining Reddit threads and YouTube channels for resources and content to get started, and so far I have a concept of a plan – at least for the next few months.

3. Take Time

One of my personal goals is to be more intentional about the things I do, and I want to extend that to art: I want to take the time to really appreciate what I’m making and the process it takes to create something. I’m impatient, so this is probably going to be a struggle.

4. Seek Progress, Not Perfection

I tend to abandon projects halfway through, out of boredom or frustration. I can see the end goal from the beginning, but I reach a point where I get frustrated and can’t see how to pull myself out of the messy middle to actually get to that finish line. As a perfectionist, it’s going to be hard to accept that I can’t be good at everything on the first try, and I have to look past the imperfections so I can get to the good part (the end). 

Maybe having more eyes on the messy middle will give me the accountability I need to push past the frustration and follow through on the things I plan.

5. Share My Progress

I know from years of procrastination and working-through-chaos that the best way to follow through on my intentions is to have someone else there to hold me accountable. I’m still figuring out my studying and creating pace, so I haven’t decided on how frequently I’ll post – maybe every day, maybe specific days, maybe every week – but I do want to make a point of sharing each step of my journey, even when it's ugly and messy and I hate it.

And even if only one other person ever sees it, that’s still one more person than me by myself.

[15ktherapy]

idk if this can help but I wanted to say I undertand you. I like dream as a cc too bc I just relate to him. I cant think the same way neurotypicals do and that lead me to sometimes have shitty actituds of being too impulsive and fuck up to inmediatly trying to fix it.

Dream did the same and just recently started to change that. I sometimes got irritated by his actitud but stopped when I saw that it was bc im the same and hated that about myself. I cant hate dream bc both he's not a criminal and also bc I just relate too much to him even on his flaws. Seeing how people talk about his behaviour just reminds me of my worst moments too. And i dont think neither you and me are wrong for relating to his flaws. Bc one thing dream teached me it's that, being annoying and sometimes a bit of a asshole it's not crime and you arent the worst human on earth at all. And finding comfort in seeing others struggle with the same as you can be healing actually.

What the 3 said today didnt change what i saw in dream, An imperfect neurodivergent young man that sometimes is a bit of a asshole and has fuck ups. And that also Dream is capable of change and seeing how people who worked recently with him or becomed friends with him recently talks, it seems he did change for the better.

And dont let what toxic fans say make you feel bad for how you feel. What was said today just tells two things 1 phil and all the adults were nice and smilling to dream but thought bad of him behind his back 2 he was a kind of shitty friend and there was not discussion about it on his face

sorry if this is too long, also don feel pressure to responde this or public it on public. I sent this as more of trying to tell you you're not alone on that feeling

I love you anon and I’m hugging you so so tight if you’ll accept it. I love you and I love myself and I love dream too. I love us for all our flaws and our mistakes and our “wrongness.” I just have a habit of ranting because I’m an angry little thing! I don’t hate myself and I never ever want to so my rage kind goes to… get this. sooociiiietyyyy.. kinda, haha. I’m an angry angry thing of a size small person, so I have my compressed stacks of resentment. All for how I’ve been treated mostly. Cuz it’s not my fault!! I know it’s not. I have a disadvantage that most people don’t and those other people make it my problem!!!! its not my problem I mess up!!!!! it’s your problem you’re so mean to me about it!!!!! so I’m still so angry cuz it’s just how I am, andsometimes I just remember my resentments where the anger stems from and I just gotta bitch about it!!! And then I do. I suppose I don’t always say the nicest things about myself but I mean it more in a “way I’m viewed” in the eyes of what I’m complaining about rather than what I actually am. And even then sometimes I’ll just like full take on some bad things about me sometimes I guess but I never hate myself for it. I am nothing but myself and myself is all I’ve got. I’m okay with that. I try not to make trouble for other people, and when I do make trouble I feel bad. but I’m not a bad person. I’m not bad and it’s not my fault fuckin. god or whatever forgot to bake in some social skills!!!!! that’s on him!!!! that’s on nature!!! that’s maybe on my parents for raising me not right, or maybe it’s on my genes. but I know it’s not on me. I try the best I can. and if people hate me for my mistakes- because I don’t “get it” or I’m not “right”— they can suck a rock because I’m Soooo Soooorry my mental illness makes youuuuuu mad. I’d like to see you try, bucko. anyway mika tip of the day is never ever hate yourself- that’s how the ominous They wins. hate the people who make you hate yourself because you were literally born with a disadvantage and they act like it’s your fault when ITSSSS NOTTTT!!!!!!!

[hepaidattention]

this is a Buffy Summers appreciation post because no other female character is both so admirably girly, adorable, fashionable, and done up while also funny, witty, snarky, and smart while also being a badass, fierce, strong, and selfless. she makes me know its okay to dress up and look cute every day because I can still kick ass. she makes me know I can be quirky and cute and still be imperfect, and that's okay. she always let me know that I could make mistakes and people would still love me, it was more about learning to love myself. she taught me to love people and to forgive them and to give second chances, and to look past the stereotypes and gossip and the facade people put on to protect themselves, but to see them for who they truly are and love and accept them for that.

Buffy Summers is what every show should strive to replicate. a character is who complex and multi dimensional, and doesn't fit in a stereotype because she's human. a female character who teaches girls they can be whoever the hell they want to be, and hey, still save the world on the side. a character who doesn't teach girls that they need to be a Joey Potter, Rory Gilmore, or a Regina George to be loved or wanted, but they can just be themselves. 💛

yes she was a people pleaser and a bundle of depression with a fake smile on her face but that's what made her so real. she was just like us. and she made other girls feel safe to be real too, and also taught them what NOT to do when depressed and hiding it from your friends so their feelings aren't hurt lol she was perfect because she was so imperfect. she was so human.

[davecortel]

The Glory of Classic Romcoms

I’ve been on a romcom marathon lately, and it’s been such a blast! I spent the past few days immersing myself in a world of charming leads, witty dialogue, and those feel-good moments that make you believe in love all over again. From the nostalgic magic of 13 Going on 30 to the clever, heartwarming antics of Clueless, and the dreamy romance of Notting Hill, each film brought its own unique flair and sweetness. It’s been a delightful escape, reminding me why I adore these classic love stories.

13 Going on 30

This 2004 classic offers a delightful blend of nostalgia and humor as it follows Jenna Rink, a teenager who wakes up in her 30-year-old self’s life, and in the process, discovers some valuable life lessons. It’s not just a feel-good film with memorable dance scenes and a charming Jennifer Garner—it’s a reminder of the importance of staying true to who you are, cherishing your friendships, and appreciating the journey of growing up. Watching Jenna navigate her newfound adult life offers a refreshing perspective on what really matters in life, making it a film that leaves you with both a smile and a deeper appreciation for your own path.

Clueless

Watching Cher Horowitz navigate her privileged Beverly Hills world offers a witty, yet poignant look at the importance of empathy, self-awareness, and personal growth. Through Cher’s journey from superficial matchmaking to meaningful friendships, Clueless teaches us that true confidence comes from understanding and embracing who we are, rather than just how we appear. It’s a film that’s as fun as it is enlightening, reminding us to be kind, stay true to ourselves, and always keep our hearts open.

Notting Hill

Watching Will and Anna’s journey reveals the magic of finding connection in the most unexpected places, and how true love involves vulnerability, self-acceptance, and embracing each other’s imperfections. Notting Hill teaches us that the most genuine relationships are built on authenticity and that sometimes, the most extraordinary things happen when we let go of our fears and open our hearts. It’s a heartwarming reminder that love, in all its forms, is worth the risk.

10 Things I Hate About You

This 1999 classic isn’t just a quintessential high school romance; it’s packed with lessons that resonate across generations. It teaches us about the value of staying true to ourselves, navigating the complexities of teenage emotions, and understanding that real connections are built on honesty and respect rather than superficial charm. Every teen today should watch it because its smart, relatable take on high school life and self-discovery remains just as relevant now as it was back then. Plus, the film’s blend of humor, heart, and genuine moments makes it a timeless reminder that embracing who you are and being real is the key to finding both love and self-acceptance.

[lobstermatriarch]

10 Character/10 Fandoms/10 Tags

Maybe minus the tags. Tagged by the lovely @anosrepasi <3

Astarion Ancunin, Baldur's Gate 3: Is this a fucking surprise at this point? I have spent real life time staring at my office walls being haunted by this man. He's charming. He's repulsive. He's vicious and self serving and ancient and immature and so desperate to be safe after centuries of living on adrenaline that he will do anything to get you on his side. He's a meta exercise in manipulation, marketed as a hedonistic sex symbol to project fantasies on, then coming out with this nuanced presentation of cptsd/sexual trauma that makes you genuinely uncomfortable with your initial judgements of him. He's the poster child for imperfect survivors still being deserving of kindness, and for the difference kindness can make in breaking or continuing the cycle of abuse. He contains multitudes. I don't think the disk horse was ever avoidable with a character like him.

Anthy Himemiya, Revolutionary Girl Utena: speaking of exercises in projection!!!! Maybe I have a type, or a theme, or something. She's the receptacle for everyone else's hopes for her and ideas of what she could be, an actual object to be traded as a prize. She's a princess, she's a damsel, she's a witch, she's whatever you need her to be. Does anyone know what she is beyond that, herself included? There's been so much amazing analysis on Anthy over the years that I'm not sure I have anything important to add at this point.

Tidus, Final Fantasy X: Early blorbo! Maybe even the first blorbo, though Sailor Saturn might offer competition. I was eleven when I finished this game and proceeded to lose my mind over pretty much every single character at one point or another. I picked Tidus for being the main but I think I do love him the most, too-- there's something about the privileged hero learning how to be self-sacrificial that I think was kind of formative for me. Plus he's a big dweeb and his laugh scene still makes me giggle.

Will Graham, NBC Hannibal: accepting the monstrous side of you, cannibalism as a metaphor for love, sweaty, gruesome, and nonsensical dream sequences, empathy disorders as a psychic superpower, etc etc etc. I could not ask for anything more out of a guy.

Nona, The Locked Tomb: So Nona is my favorite of the books so far, and it's in large part thanks to Nona's point of view. Her focus on what's going on with the kids while the rest of the narrative is in this horrible war zone was really poignant for me? People die, life goes on, kids grow up thinking everything they see is normal. I've taken a lot of writing influence from her narration lately. Granted I (like so many of us) have a soft spot for unhinged women, so trying to pick just one character from The Locked Tomb was SO hard.

Nell Crain, The Haunting of Hill House: If only people cared about her half as much while she was alive as they did after she died! Also, being haunted by her own inevitable tragedy while still managing to find something beautiful and worthwhile in the end.

Jade Harley, Homestuck: by and large I pretend not to associate myself with Homestuck anymore, but it did get me back into fandom after a pretty long time away and Jade still holds a soft spot in my heart. Little feral garden child.

Akane Kurashiki, Zero Escape Series: taking the single most insufferable anime trope (to me at least) and turning it on it's head. The extent of her manipulation by the end of 999 still gives me chills, even though I know the ending, and despite it all she never stops being sympathetic. I love her so much.

Midna, Zelda: Twilight Princess: I named my kitty after her so she's gotta be on the list. She is now 17 and arthritic and still has a lot to say. I'm sure she's criticizing my adventuring skills and/or teaching me how to jump like a wolf.

Cole, Dragon Age Inquisition: I named my other kitty after him so he also has to be on the list. He knocked his cat tree into my partner's coffee table last month and now we need a new one.

Not tagging anyone because tagging stresses me out a bit, but if you would like to do this I would LOVE to see top tens of the moment!

[sunflock]

I can never explain to men what a burden forced religion was to me when i was a little girl. I tried to show god how imperfect i was so he would see i'm not worthy to bear his son - i was 6. I tried to accept another worldviews that i agreed with and believed to be true, only to never embrace them entirely because of the fear of christ - i was 8. I knew i was dirty and impure in his eyes because girls only bring sin to this world, so i dressed like a boy all the time. - i was 9. I accepted my suffering and offered it to god, thinking it would be dear to him - i was 10. I humiliated myself in front of him and begged for the forgiveness of sins i didn't even know, because no matter how much i suffered he was never there for me - i was 12.

This is how you teach girls to gut themselves for a second of a man's attention

[aspiringorwhatever]

I haven’t known what I wanted to write here for awhile, but I’m realizing it’s just not that deep. Maybe to me it is, but to everyone scrolling it’s just another drop in the bucket. What am I so afraid of?

Everything, all the time, apparently.

I am caught in the middle of who I am and who I (and most people around me) think I am. What I want feels miles away from the destination that everyone expects of me as I round the corner to 30 years old.

The destination is as follows: a marriage to someone who kind of understand you (if you’re lucky), kids that overwhelm you 99% of the time, a house under constant construction, an unfulfilling career that you use wine and weekends to cope with, and a sense of self that is expected to merge with the world around you into “oneness.” The thought makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

I don’t even know what I want or who I want to be. Half of me is still learning how to mother myself and the other is healing the scars from my mother trying to do the same, still learning herself.

My parents, and those of all of my generation, did the best they could (for the most part). Therapy wasn’t a thing to them. Not being okay but acting like you were was the only thing that was accepted. Isn’t that the name of the game, to be accepted?

Shush!! Quiet. Don’t make a scene or draw attention to yourself.

Aren’t those pants a little loud? Everyone is going to look at you.

That haircut is going to have everyone talking, alright.

It felt like a mortal sin to do anything that wasn’t what every one of your friends and family would do in the same situation. Sometimes it still does.

We have come further as a society in the last two years than the last two decades; a pandemic really helps put things in perspective, I guess. We have started to look around and realize that, truly, none of it matters and all of it matters at the exact same time. I have, at least.

I guess I could rephrase that to say this: the shit we thought that mattered to us has turned into garbage, and the things we should’ve understood mattered the most have made their star entrance into our realities.

I don’t care if someone has purple hair and loud pants, or if they laugh a little too loudly at the store. Does it make them happy? That’s what matters. That’s what I care about. For myself and everyone around me. I don’t want to steal someone’s joy because I have none of my own.

It feels lonely to think this way at this moment in time. I want so badly to shake friends and family that focus solely on gossip and superficial bullshit while ignoring that the person they’re putting down is trying their best too. Maybe dying their hair purple gave them a reason to wake up in the morning, or the bad choice they made is the only choice they thought they could make. We are generations repeating cycles, and in turn, mistakes.

We are all the culmination of our ancestors mistakes. They get passed down through generations as a challenge. Can you be the one to make a different decision? That’s the question they pose as they hand you the same problems that your mother and father dealt with, your grandmother and grandfather before them. They may be wrapped up in shiny new paper with a new bow but I promise it’s the same beaten up toy truck that’s begging to not get slammed into a wall. It’s your choice whether you recklessly roll it or not.

I do not want to be the one to make the same mistakes, to roll the truck into the wall because that’s how it’s always been done. I want to honor the truck and all of its parts, it’s imperfection from years of being abused by default. I want to break the cycle of can’t teach an old dog new tricks and pose the question of why not? Says who? Where is the rule written that things cannot change and adapt as necessary?

Maybe I don’t want to be a mom, or to have the marriage and house and white picket fence. Maybe I just want to be seen for who I am and loved all the same, broken parts included. To be a mother, one day, if I decide that’s what I want. For it to be my choice, not the choice of the whispers trying to drown out my own voice.

I don’t want to conform to a reality that was put in place generations ago that valued what you had more than who you are. A reality that you are only worth what you can contribute to society, to capitalism and old grossly rich white men who wouldn’t touch you without hand sanitizer close by.

I’m tired of it all. I want to be my authentic self and not feel like a leper because of it. To be in nature and write words that create feelings and to feel at home in my body without cursing it for how it looks. I want others to understand that each person is their own universe, vast and magnificent and full of autonomy and no one can change that. It does not matter what venom they spew or judgement they pass. I hope one day that becomes more possible. It only takes one voice to speak up and inspire change, imagine what could happen if an entire generation decides to break the wheel.

I hope to get to see it for myself.

[lordmushroomkat]

Okay so when I was a kid my parents refused to get the special fancy television service so we had pretty much only the basic-est of channels. And so until we finally got Netflix streaming (we got it not long after Netflix started streaming because my dad already had an account for disc renting and it didn't cost all that much more) I was pretty much exclusively a PBSKids child.

And I loved PBSKids shows, they were my everything. I even developed a fondness for the littler kids' shows because that's what was on when I was home sick by myself. I have a whole list of shows I really liked back in the day and I actually continued watching PBSKids well into my teenage years because frankly who was going to stop me. I gotta know what Word Girl is up to, I just gotta.

And although I no longer keep up with all of the new shows they have (and jeez are there a lot of them, they do not stop cooking) I did semi-accidentally catch an episode of a new animated show one day and subsequently became obsessed with it. Basically the whole point of it is teaching multiculturalism and acceptance to children and I find it extremely charming.

You can tell it was really well researched --apparently they have a cultural anthropologist on staff for it?-- and it's written like the writers love humanity. It's quirky and fun and there's songs and I genuinely learned several new things. And I am so so pleased that this generation of kids gets to have this. Also the artstyle is just really cute and funky. The backgrounds are drawn with a lot of traditional-art-type textures? You know, imperfect pencil lines and chalk shading. It's extremely delightful.

It's just bright and fun and sorta soothing? I don't know, there's something to be said for the appeal of watching shows for little kids; it's comforting to know that everything will work out and nothing too bad will happen. It just feels very safe in a world that is always so much. Sometimes I just sit down and watch one of my favorite PBSKids shows on their website or their app (both of which are free, of course) to just take a mental break for the afternoon.

Anyway the show is called Let's Go, Luna! and I think it's a complete delight. I'm trying to recommend it to everyone I know because that's who I am as a person.

I keep trying to get my mom (who is a teacher) to watch it because emphasizing diversity and multiculturalism is kinda her thing as a teacher. [For reference she works primarily as an art teacher.] She's always looking for inspiration and I wanna show her an excellent source. She spends her afternoons mindlessly listening to random shows for adults while she crochets, I don't see how educational kids shows would serve that purpose any worse. Like c'mon it would at least be less stressful, surely.

If I ever babysit again I'm gonna strongly consider just setting up PBSKids and watching it together, probably while also doing some kind of craft. It's just a good time. Who am I to not fiercely promote the fun stealth-education kids channel that was so important to me growing up? If I can, I'm getting the next generation obsessed with PBSKids, too. Nobody is doing it like PBSKids. They just do not quit. PBSKids is so so essential to our communities. It's such a precious resource. Their website has games!!! For free!!! And they were always pretty damn good, too!!! Activity sheets, too. In the parents section there was even an article thing on emotions & self-awareness for varying ages of kids. Nobody is doing it like PBSKids.