"Oh, Yves, spectacular timing! My back is positively obliterated hunched over poking this needle for the past... what time is it? Oh, the Sun's gone. No matter. You're welcome for finishing it!"
"'Finishing'? It's... it's ruined!"
"Enhanced, my prince."
"That was supposed to be a heartwarming handmade gift. Now what will she think?"
"She will cry tears of joy at this legendary collaboration between the two most artistic princes Rhodolite has ever known."
"She'll be crying, alright. And I might just join her."
"Aww, does someone need a hug?"
"No! You don't get it. She's been feeling down lately. I just wanted to... make her smile again..."
"Well now, if that isn't the essence of gentlemanliness then I'm a gelatinous goo-monster from Mars!"
"That's not entirely off the table."
"Hey, you can be gentlemanly to other gentlemen too, you know."
"Uhh... it was a... compliment?"
"Well, goo-monsters are spineless, which means I'd be rid of this premature hunchback, so thank you! You're learning! Look at how wide my smile is!"
"It's creepy. I mean—creative."
"Excellent save, my apprentice. Oh, I just had the most wonderful idea! Why don't we both pay her a visit and bring her lots of smiles together? Can you imagine a better gift from the two most gentlemanly princes Rhodolite has ever known?"
My entry for the Learning How to Love Myself CC hosted by @venulus. I recently rediscovered my embroidery hobby, and it's been a wonderful remedy to remind myself to take a step back from the world and focus on me for a little while. I recommend it if you're in the market for a low barrier to entry, high reward hobby. 💜 Take care!
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At last! The time to give ourselves some tender loving care is upon us. And what better way of doing so than creating something self-indulgent and special with our comfort characters?
The Learning How to Love Myself Creation Challenge, hosted by yours truly, is meant to give us all an opportunity—or perhaps an excuse—to give love to what we consider our flaws, physical or otherwise. The main purpose of this event is to channel love for all those things about ourselves that are hard to deal with.
This is the first time I’m hosting an event like this, and the structure of this post is based on @violettduchess and @lorei-writes Sunshine & Stars CC post which you should totally check out! (Hope you guys don’t mind T^T)
Edit: The event has been extended for another 4 weeks. The new deadline is September 9th!
This challenge is strictly SFW and is open to all fandoms (Otome or otherwise.)
Duration: July 1st to August 12th. The Masterlist will be posted on the 13th.
Submissions: Fanfiction, fanart, mood boards, wallpapers, edits, videos, playlists, collages, and all other creations about YOURSELF and your fictional one. Just make sure to tag things appropriately.
OC x canon works are allowed but they are not the focus of this challenge. Regardless, if creating with them makes it easier to accept parts of yourself, you are welcome to submit works involving them.
Works submitted to this challenge do not need to be created exclusively for it. In other words, your submission can also be entries for other challenges outside of this one.
Important: Tag your work as #learninghowtolovemyselfcc and tag me (@venulus) too so I can find your creations easily.
Remember, the path to self-love is different for each person.
The lovely banner was created by my favorite menace @lorei-writes 💜 feel free to use it if you want!
*busts down door* I finished this just in time for @venulus ‘s “Learning How to Love Myself CC”!!! I thought my wrist was going to fall off 💀 Thank you Venus for the excuse to draw something very self-indulgent.
Executive dysfunction is difficult. Your mind is loud and obnoxious, screaming at you to “do the thing.” In theory, it’s so simple to just start the task. But it doesn’t matter how “easy” it is to do something, and no matter how much i want to do it, my body cannot physically do it. It’s like having some invisible force pinning my body down. And even if i start the task after who knows how long, there are too many thoughts racing and i just can’t focused. So much energy is spent wrestling my mind that there’s little left to function, and it makes me feel like a lazy good-for-nothing, especially as someone whose worth has been ties to what they do.
Long ramble aside, enjoy this very self-indulgent comic of Leo comforting Lea on a bad day when her thoughts are extra loud and it’s difficult to do anything. Comics and pacing isn’t my strong suit, and it’s my first time (i think?) that i made a comic so… it’s not the greatest lol.
This was done for @venulus Learning How to Love Myself challenge. Contains discussion of ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder).
“Chev?” I glanced up from my game to look over at Chevalier, who was sitting in a nearby, upholstered chair. He didn’t look up, but a gentle “hm” indicated he was listening to me. “Do you know what autism is?”
For some reason, his gloved fingers, which were just about to turn a page, paused and held touching the corner of the book he was reading.
“I’ve just been thinking about it.” I glanced away, staring at the frozen screen on my handheld as if the characters there would have some sort of encouraging words. “I was thinking about how when the kiddo was diagnosed, and when I started learning about it to help him cope and manage - how so many things started falling into place. And…” I trailed off, not even entirely sure I wanted to say the words myself.
“Say it.” Chev prompted. I blinked and snapped my head in his direction again, surprised to see his icy blue eyes trained on me. Somehow, I earned his full attention.
“Uh… Just… I can understand it, ya’ know?” I shrugged, unsure of my own thoughts. Who was I to diagnose conditions? My reading to be a support for my kiddo didn’t give me the medical know-how to start looking at myself. And what if I was wrong? Would it be fair of me to fit in a category that didn’t actually pertain to me?
“When I was 4, I have a vivid memory of sobbing for hours because I didn’t get to follow my typical routine of hugging my mother after she dropped me off at daycare. She was in a hurry, and before I put my coat in my cubby, she was gone.”
“I hate being interrupted in the middle of a task. It takes me forever to get back into the groove of things. I have to reread and find that headspace again.”
“After hanging out with friends, I feel like I’ve been at a concert for the last five hours. My ears are ringing, and everything is SO LOUD. I find it hard to think. I hate feeling like that, but yet I had fun. Does that even make sense?”
“The squeak of styrofoam makes me physically recoil. The scratch of certain fabrics or textures on my skin makes me violent, it’s not painful, it just makes my skin crawl and it claws at my brain and I just have to get away from it.”
“I can’t eat gummy or jelly-like things, did you know that?”
“Most have food preferences.” Chev interjected. Turning my head to look at him, he was still fully focused on me, and I felt a sense of relief that he was actually listening to me.
“Yeah, no, I get that. But… I get this weird thought like it’s not food even if I know it is while I’m eating it and I want to retch and that’s.. That’s weird, right? My fingers were always in my food as a kid. My mother complained a lot about me and my quirks. I’d pull everything apart into bite-sized pieces so I could be sure that whatever I was eating was edible. It’s silly, right?”
“I’m ridiculously set on following instructions as presented. Like rules and things. If it’s a rule, everyone should do the rule. If someone isn’t doing the rule, I want to remind them it’s a rule and that it would be appropriate to follow it. Why can’t they just follow the rule? It’s right there. Everyone was told it. Just do the rule, right?!”
“Mistakes should be corrected.” Chev agreed.
“Yeah! Exactly! I’m just trying to help them do the right thing! And not only that, but people tend to think I’m sarcastic when I’m not. I don’t know what it is, but something about just flat out telling someone my thoughts means I’m clearly being deceptive and mean about it. You know how that is. You don’t say anything unless it’s necessary, and while that isn’t a bad thing, it can make you seem harsh. At least I understand you there.”
Chevalier snorted and graced me with a smirk.
“Don’t deny it. If I were to ask you how I did after making something for you to eat, you’d give me an honest critique and offer suggestions on improvements, but keep your personal opinions on the matter to yourself. I didn’t ask how you felt about it, I asked how I did, so you’d be objective.”
Chev set his elbow in his open book, sitting on his lap, leaning forward to put his chin in his hand as he listened to me. “Indeed. That was what you asked of me in this hypothetical.”
“I just don’t get it.” I sighed. “I’ve been told my whole life that I’m difficult.”
Pursing my lips, I glanced downward again. I could feel the heat of tears rimming my eyes. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be just like everyone else. So that every day isn’t a struggle to understand and be understood. Have you ever wanted to be like everyone else?”
Chevalier was silent for several seconds. I could tell he was considering the question and running through his extensive memory to pinpoint any time he might have actually wanted to be different. “I have never desired to be like everyone else. I am who I am, and I have accepted that. However, to be understood without pointless struggle - I don’t believe that exists.”
“What?” My gaze cut to Chev. “Is that why you don’t talk to people?”
“It is a factor. It’s simply a waste of time in most of my dealings to manage the information and detail one would need to match my level of understanding.”
“So… you’re saying that no one understands you. But you’re a genius, so that makes sense.”
“My intellect isn’t the only factor that creates a divide between myself and others.”
I stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was giving me. Of course his intellect created a rift with anyone he interacted with, but he was saying he was fundamentally different than other people. Than people he tended to deal with.
Chev despised social functions, yet he attended because it was his responsibility to do so. He found creating relationships difficult, and fostering friendships tedious and unreasonable. He found people to be confounding and emotions to be incomprehensible and needless as they interfered with logical conclusions. Emotions were irrational, that’s why they were emotions.
My eyes moved to his gloved hands, and I had to wonder if there were textures he found himself repulsed by. I looked at his book and considered how we were always quietly spending time in the same room. No noise to overwhelm me. No stimulus besides what we chose for ourselves, him reading his book and me playing my game.
“Oh,” I uttered, finally understanding. “You’re like me.”
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For @venulus Learning How to Love Myself Creation Challenge
I didn't know if I wanted to write this, but I finally decided i felt comfortable enough to do something, small and basic and on a pretty impersonal fashion but still...
Ikemen Vampire - Jean x Unnamed Female Character (I don't usually self-insert and didn't feel comfortable enough to do so)
“Leave me alone!”
She didn’t know if the pleading cry was just in her head, as it had been every time someone tried to interact with her this morning, or if the words actually left her.
But she stumbled out of the dining room as fast as she could, barely listening to the concerned voices that called her, only making it past the corner of the hallway, before the lightheadedness got too strong and she sat down, clutching her head and trying to just swallow down the tears.
She immediately regretted the outburst. It hadn’t been anybody’s fault. Even Arthur and Dazai had been less of a headache. But the pressure in her head had gotten to a point she had no attention left to give anyone trying to talk to her, and she just wanted all the noise to stop.
She hated when this happened. Hated that trying to remember and do all the tasks did that to her. She missed being able to do basic tasks without feeling lost or overwhelmed.
The sound of footsteps echoed far in her mind and she tried to make herself as small as possible, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t find her.
But she had no such luck. The sound approached, and she felt someone crouch by her side, but he didn’t speak or made a move to touch her, for which she was grateful.
And also for the soothing scent that helped clear her mind.
Aware it was her boyfriend, she leaned against his side, and only then he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
But still he didn’t talk to her. Instead, humming the song she usually used to calm herself down. A song she wasn’t aware he learned or even knew why she hummed it to herself.
They stayed like this for a while longer until the pressure started to clear and she returned to feeling lightheaded.
Still silent, Jean offered her a wrapped piece of chocolate he’d been holding.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a whisper, unwrapping the sweet and biting half of it, offering him the other half.
But Jean shook his head and closed his hand around hers, closing hers over the piece of chocolate.
“You have nothing to apologize for, mon amour. It is fine to get a break when things are overwhelming. Just, next time, you shouldn’t need to let it get to this point before you do.” His other hand gently caressed her face, and she nuzzled into his hand.
“But…I need to do this! I promised Sebastian I would keep everything in order until he recovers. And…” her voice trembled with the effort not to cry. “I should be able to do this! I… I hate not being able to! I can’t do even half the things I used to… I hate needing help for the most basic things… I feel like I’m growing too old ahead of time, and I don’t even know why…”
“I know, chérie. It is scary to face an unknown enemy, especially when it comes from within. It is upsetting to lose something you took for granted. But don’t let despair overtake you. If it is something you will have to live with, you will have to adapt to it, as difficult as it will be.”
She knew it. A part of her wanted to be angry at him for saying the obvious, but it wasn’t fair. He was worried, and there was nothing else he could do for her, anyway. Nothing that could be done.
So she nodded and started to pull away. She shouldn’t have said that much. She’d been doing her best to keep a semblance of normalcy. To look like she was fine, exactly not to worry him. Or anyone else.
“But there is no shame in asking for help, and I will be here for you.” She had already stood up, but she stopped and looked down at him, surprised that Jean was smiling at her, as he gently took her hand and propped himself up on one knee. “You have been helping me since you arrived. It’s my turn to take care of you. I may not be any good with the housework, but I will help with what I can. I will be your mind when your fails. I will make sure you have peace when you need it. I will be there to protect and support you when you are scared. And I will always love you, in the best and worst moments, especially when you find it difficult to love yourself.” Jean kissed her hand, as if sealing a promise.
She stepped closer, not finding any words, but she kissed his hand back, and gently rested her forehead against his arm. His other hand cradled the back of her head.
“But I still have to work. So, when I’m not here, I hope you’ll not be scared to ask the others for help. You are a light to everyone here, and I am sure they will not hesitate to help.”
“But…”
“No but. You are as much of a resident of this house as anyone else. You are being kind by insisting on doing this job, but you don’t have to put it above your health. I’m sure they are all grateful to you for doing it, and will help if needed. Promise me you will try?”
“Fine. I will try.”
“You know I especially trust Mozart and Napoleon. Go to them if possible, first. As long as you don’t have to wake Napoleon up.”
Jean chuckled, and she finally laughed, nuzzled lightly against him, before pulling away, mouthing a silent “I love you” and pulling him down for a light kiss on the lips.
Decided to write a little something for @venulus Learning How to Love Myself Creation Challenge.
It's a little out of my comfort zone as I tend to prefer writing about characters not myself but felt like giving it a try. One of the things that comes with chronic illness is sometimes the lack of logic that comes to body modification when you spend most of your time in pain, and this is a conversation I've had to have multiple times and I wanted to explore it here. This is a rough work but I hope you enjoy!
1577 words
SFW
Ikemen Vampire
Pairing: Faust x Reader (self insert)
Comfort, fluff, post argument, chronic illness, fibromyalgia, tattoos, self love, self acceptance
Never go to bed on an argument, that’s what my parents always said. Yet, I’d decided to sleep in another room in the castle and slipped away early in the morning before Faust was awake just to avoid talking to him, and he really didn’t deserve it but my pride was too strong to admit that right now. The needle danced across my hip, moving with practiced ease as the stencil became etched into my skin, floral motifs and gothic architecture becoming one with my flesh as I made my body anew. It hurt, stabbing, throbbing, making my twitch, shiver and hold my breath instinctively-despite my tattoo artist reminding me she needs me to breathe as she worked up my side. Honestly, I wasn’t far off having a little cry.
There hits a point with pain where it feels almost good, not quite the sexual pleasure that comes from rough play but something else, something a little different. Coenobites and their quest for sensation irregardless of pleasure or pain came to mind, because pain was inevitable in life, especially in mine which made seeking out a tattooists needle seem contradictory. But, there was a difference, this pain was a pain of my own choosing, pain I had agency over. It hurt, the grazed flesh of my body would hurt and heal for days, but unlike the pain from my fibromyalgia this made me feel better about myself. It wasn’t the pain of my own body rebelling, curtailing my plans and placing limitations on my day, stopping me from thinking, from feeling like me. This wasn’t the pain that made me want to die, it was the pain that made me want to live. Which is a difficult thing to explain. Something I didn’t even try to explain last night when Faust questioned why, after a particularly debilitating flare up I was opting to go through with a day long tattoo session. It wasn’t a comment laced with mockery or malice, just a question of why after being in pain for days, when I’m finally getting over it I’m opting for more. For something, he considered ‘frivolous’. Truthfully, that word was the trigger that my already volatile head space needed to go straight into attack mode; and attack I did. Like a chunk of potassium hitting water it ignited a nasty fight that ended with me cursing him out, slamming the door and locking myself into a spare room. Perhaps the tears threatening to leak from my eyes were more to do with hurting him than the hurt I was feeling on my skin.
A cursory knock on the door before I let myself in as quietly as possible, his back to me as he worked at his desk, books scattered everywhere, surprisingly more disorganised than yesterday confirming my fear that he probably didn’t sleep. It was my fault and the paltry dinner balanced on the tray in my hands was no where near enough to apologise. I set the tray down on a table and moved closer to him, he may not have acknowledged my entrance but I knew he knew I was here so quietly as a cat I moved closer to him until I could wrap my arms around him from behind, his scent and warmth filling my senses, always making my heart flutter even when I felt guilty as sin. I could feel his body stiffen under my touch which hurt, his breath hitched as he waited for me to make the first move.
“Johan, can we talk?” my quiet voice said into his back. The tenseness indicating that he was still upset, which he had every right to be. He’d been a wonderful partner during the worst of my flare up, no matter how much I cried in pain, frustration he held me close. Comforted me in his own way, was there to rub sore stiff muscles and help manage my pain only to me met with the sharpest side of my tongue. He didn’t respond, only he steady breathe filling the gap where I wanted his voice to be “Johan, please. I’m sorry” I pleaded while gripping him tighter, finally feeling him starting to relax under my touch, a deep sigh preceding his answer “Yes” he said, his voice softer than usual as he turned in my arms and pulled me into his chest. I relished being in his arms, now more than ever as I gently cupped his cheek and raised my eyes to his “Johan, I’m sorry. It was wrong to talk to you like that, to yell at you like that, it was cruel and there aren’t words to convey how sorry I am. I love you so much, but it wasn’t right to lash out at you” my voice was trembling as I tried to get across how sorry I was, how much I regretted hurting him. It was his forehead pressing to mine, the quiet intimacy of being like this that made the tears I’d been holding back finally fall as he held me close to his chest; his hands rubbing gentle circles over my back. ”Perhaps my bluntness was unwarranted, however I did not appreciate being on the end of your ire….but I forgive you. I just wanted to understand why you chose to go get tattooed when you’ve been so ill. It’s not a logical decision no matter how much I try to figure it out. Why seek out more pain?” his voice was soft, still seeking out an answer but trying not to fall into last nights trap. It’s an answer I’d been formulating all day, but now with his scent in my nose and my guard was down all my well practiced words fell out of my head.
He didn’t push, sat down on the armchair and pulled me into his lap, giving me the space to formulate my answer, careful not to put pressure on my newly inked hip and flank.
“Pain is a constant for me, it’s a daily frustration, it’s debilitating. So, you are correct it’s not a logical course of action. However, getting tattooed is pain. But it’s a pain that I get to choose, that I get something from” his eyes never left mine as I explained “It hurts, but unlike fibro pain it gives me something that makes me feel like I have some semblance of control over my body. Being able to make it something I find more pleasing, more…myself. It makes me feel, even on my worse days a more confident and beautiful version of myself. It’s a comfort when the pain I have no control over flares, it reminds me of who I am when I feel like nothing” the words were clumsy, but they finally came and it felt cathartic saying it out loud, but there was still a fear that he wouldn’t understand.
“Your body is beautiful to me no matter the decoration, I have no problem with your unadorned flesh” he said cupping my cheek and holding me in his hazel gaze.
“I understand that, but it’s not about how you see me. It’s about how I see myself, how I want to be seen, how I want to feel about myself. I don’t mean to make that sound like you don’t matter, but it’s still the skin I have to inhabit” I kept my tone even trying not to sound harsh.
He sat quietly for the moment processing what I said, thankfully he didn’t look hurt or offended finally saying “It’s not a position I’d considered, but there is a logic there and I understand what you’re trying to say. I’m not offended” he concluded by kissing me on the tip of my nose and wrapping his arms around me tighter. His response made a knot in my stomach loosen, and my body finally fully relaxed into his arms. Johan took that as the cue to finally kiss me deeply, more comforting that intending to seduce and it felt like the storm had finally passed.
“May I see?” his voice came after a little while being cuddled up in the wingback and shaking the stiffness from my body I obliged his curiosity by getting up and standing in front of him to show the tapestry of motifs stretching down my side. His eye scanned the newly decorated skin, despite it’s grazed and weeping condition, the designs were strong black like medieval woodcuts. His breath caught at one particular point, the point in the design where he found a little tribute to him
“That’s the re-” ”Yes, for you” I cut in “you’re influence is literally etched into my flesh now” I said recalling the reference to the rebis that I’d worked into the design, the divine hermaphrodite and the great work of alchemy. It was a quick, but I swore he looked a little misty eyed before his usual arrogance crept into his expression. Suddenly he stood and I was lifted into his arms princess style and he was striding towards the door ”Fresh wounds need washing and care do they not?” he said with a seductive smirk appearing on his face “I would be remiss not to take you to the baths now wouldn’t I?” ”No baths, only showers while it heals” I cut in remembering the the aftercare instructions ”Then a shower it shall be” he chuckled as we began our journey through the dark castle.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This fic is a bit experimental, but the idea sort of came to me all at once and I felt compelled to get it down. got inspired by @venulus' content creation challenge that's going for a few more weeks. Hope you enjoy a little slice of my brainrot. also crane wives slaps. have more content of my lil' knight girl, noele and how sappy she secretly is. <3.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: established relationship, comfort, mild body dysmorphia, and my weird perspective/tense-shift.
Every time I used to open my eyes to you in the morning, seeing that content expression while you’re dreaming, I couldn’t help but wonder…What do you see in me?
I’m not extraordinarily beautiful, I have more bulk in my arms and shoulders than half the princes I know of, and yet, every morning without fail—
“Mnn…good morning.”
That voice slurred with sleep, those wine red eyes that sparkle in delight as they focused in on me. You wholeheartedly kissed every old cut, every old scar, every beauty mark…loved all of me.
And I love you every bit as much. Why else would I continue sparring? Keep up with the happenings across borders? Keep your attention and that sweet smile that you show on me and me alone? I don’t like saying the circumstances of our meeting were due to fate. I fully believe something in me clawed through life to get to your side.
I found myself a love that adores every disheveled, angry, and selfish part of me, and makes me feel like those parts are extraordinarily beautiful.
“Noele?”
A voice snapped the knight out of her daze as she shot up in bed next to Nokto, “Hm?”
“Did the palace hound zone out on me?” He teased, grinning and tucking a fluffy tuft of fringe behind her ear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She growled, leaning in and stealing a rather insistent kiss. Nokto only pulling away to get his answer.
“Hmm…I think someone is avoiding the question.” He huffed against her neck, running his nose over the curve of her jaw as he spoke, “Now do continue I ask nicely? Or do I interrogate my sweet lover?” He murmured against her ear, wrapping an arm around her back as her pulse thudded against his lips when he kissed her throat.
“‘Was just thinking how lucky I am to have found you.”
Her face was rather stoic as the surprised fox pulled back with wide eyes to look at her, quietly asking for more information with a few blinks.
“You…teach me to love every bit of me that I used to hate…I’m very lucky to have dug my claws into you and not let you go.” Eventually a faint smile appeared on her lips, lifting up her cheeks and making her ice-colored eyes crinkle in content.
Blood rushed to the seventh prince’s cheeks and he embraced her tightly, arms wrapped around her…as two silver chains holding matching engagement bands clinked softly against one another.
