#better cancel him!!!! and then just dont even like. even TRY to understand or grasp anything about the hargrove/mayfield house

[biillys]

Today I had to unfollow a blog for saying that Billy was abusive and a monster and that any fan who likes him is fucked up

ughhhhhhhhhhh u see that opinion thrown around so much and honestly it's tired! it's boring! it's not even like? true? it's just something the loud and annoying tumblr and twitter stannies say to justify their refusal to acknowledge or deal anything billy related 🙄

i promise u, you will not miss them on ur dash!!!!

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

[makiema]

finally finished writing about how much stormbringer enhances the skk dynamic which was at a nascent stage in Fifteen and anticipates the developments which happen later and culminate in Dead Apple where the faith they have in each other is absolutely remarkable! the fact that i said i’d do this in a few hours yesterday but it took me like 24 hrs to finish i have an attention span of a whole 2 minutes 💀

my favorite thing about stormbringer is that it actually builds up on the concepts/themes introduced in Fifteen so it's a glimpse into what has changed in dazai and dazai & dhuuya after one year of being together. As much as it's about chuuya confronting his past and his identity this is also about dazai’s development from who he was in fifteen. chuuya and rimbaud both left their marks on dazai and in Stormbringer we see him, actually trying to emulate or follow in a sense a way of life, that chuuya and rimbaud represented. Stormbringer is not just about chuuya, abt his test of humanity, or he coming in terms with who or what he is. it's about dazai too. it's about dazai developing or at least attempting to develop what he calls “boyish”/ “ordinary” in Fifteen. its not about chuya having an identity crisis. in fact what we understand from Code 04's last section is that chuuya never considered it as his crisis and neither did dazai. so to dazai “saving chuuya is important, human or not doesn't matter” and when dazai gives chuuya time to think abt what the operation will cost him chuuya doesnt so much as flinch form his purpose. This goes on to show unlike verlaine he doesnt care about memory and certainly doesnt consider it as the only determinant of someone being human. He cares more abt yokohama and his friends and in that, in caring abt his “family”, he is just as human as the next person. whether he’s factually human or not comes secondary to his desire to save people. This is a message that the quality of being human has more to do with embodying human qualities or humanity than having memories and lineage. so yeah stormbringer is essentially about embracing humanity but this happens on 2 levels: both chuuya and dazai embrace humanity. Going back to the boyish or ordinary bit, im talking abt this segment:

here dazai is shocked because he assumed everyone “gangsta” and everyone crazy powerful delighted in homicide, in deliberately indulging in the macabre. but he is proved wrong. He logically concluded that anyone with power more than average and belonging to the underground would kill people and delight in that because it’s a given they lack any kind of moral understanding. To that end, they’d be exalted at the prospect of relentlessly shooting a dead body, mutilating it and dishonoring it. The mafia code (any general mafia code) works in a way where honor and death goes hand in hand. So only the lowest of the low would do that to a dying person, who even when faced with certain death is loyal to his own organisation. This really shows that even within the mafia dazai is the only person whos like the devil incarnate. So yeah dazai at this sate far lower than even a mafia member. But chuuya who actually embodiess the mafia code and is incredibly loyal to his organisation and “family” [ putting family in quotes bc he himself calls his friends family 🥺] ofc kicks the gun away. From dazai’s pov chuuya being as insanely powerful as he is should also do the same. But chuuya comes along and suggests that even enemies should be shown respect where it’s due. And that is what an ordinary person, oblivious to mafia life (mafia life as in waht dazai makes of it) thinks. So in undermining the binary between “ordinary” and “mafia” chuuya proves that being mafia doesnt necessarily mean selling your soul to the devil and giving up the last smidge of humanity. In fact by embodying qualities like compassion and kindness and mutual respect, you can make the mafia a better place for yourself and for the other members. Now in Stormbringer, we see how this affected dazai. here dazai is introduced as someone mercilessly killing to set up the channel. 

Now to expand the channel one would need to keep doing it right? To mercilessly kill ppl and stuff but instead what he does is hand the channel over to chuuya bc he knows chuuya wouldnt handle it like him. im not suggesting that dazai miraculously becomes v good or anything with dazai the key words is “try” or “to some extent” like in Fifteen when Chuuya asks “do u wanna live” he’s like “ not to that extent”. similarly its not to say he doesnt kill people anymore. it is that he tries to lessen the number of casualties by handing over one of the most troublesome channels to chuuya who would manage it in a much more humane way. That dazai draws from his friends/at least tries to is smth we’ll see again later on when he deals with akutagawa. He talks about odasaku and ofc its baffling to him that a mafia member as powerful as him would be taking acre of orphans. and dazai says but he cant afford to be that kind and proceeds to shoot akutagswa but again does so in a calculated way such that he doesnt end up killing him ( im NOT justifying dazai’s abuse not at all im just saying that its hard to believe he coincidentally knew the exact no of bullets that aku could block. and had odasaku’s words and his way of life not been in the back of his mind he could’ve ended up killing aku) coming back to chuuya and dazai we also see him avoiding further conversation on the jewelry channel thing as he says “leave that for now”. He does a similar thing again when mori brings up the concept of double suiciding with chuuya.

 Its a HUGE thing for him to digest that him suiciding would inevitably spell the doom for chuuya. this puts an unimaginable responsibility on him. And he avoids further discussion on this. Now we know dazai is the rambly type. Even in the most dire moments he goe son with his LOONG monologues so really he is the last person who’d avoid a conversation but he deliberately does it in these 2 instances because its hard for him to grasp these things. That he can go against his nature and do a conscientious thing by handing over one of the most grisly channels to chuuya (i dont think dazai’s nature is evil. Or even if it is, its a a social construct keeping in mind the war ravaged times or its mori’s construct because he does exploit dazai to the hilt. but dazai ofc thinks of himself as non-human, devious. perfectly devilish...etc.) And also the fact that someone as suicidal as him is actually responsible for the life of someone else is really too much to take in. a whole 10 seconds pause indicates just how much he was thrown off when mori opened his eyes to the reality of things: if he dies, chuuya inexorably dies as a consequence. also i dont think the “wow” here or the next bit :

is something jokey. if it was like haha double suicide with chuuya is the worst haha wanna do it w pretty lady kind of a deal. that pause would have been unnecessary. dazai’s immediate reaction would’ve been whining and shit. the use of “froze” too implies the gravity of the situation. so ofc what is “wow” is how much meaning his life has for someone else. and for some so much....better than him. and what is unacceptable is this sad, sad truth that his life (to which he ascribes no value) would be so inextricably linked with someone else’s and hold so much meaning to them. it is like when a suicidal person at the brink of suicide understanding his life is not his own. his life and death holds consequences for ppl surrounding him. so both of these are huge things to grasp and at both these times dazai is visibly shaken up so much so that he doesnt want to do his favorite thing- ramble in a condescending tone. smth he does in so many instances. this really is a testimony to the fact that things are changing in him. the redemption process has begun. he’s no longer the kind of maniac he was before he encountered chuuya. when zuko underwent his transition in atla he was so shaken up after one (1) right decision he had a fever. i think this is true for anyone who’s trying to change. change is after all a huge thing for everyone. ofc he’ll be unsettled. so anyways this is proof that he has indeed come a long way from being someone who revelled at the prospect of meaningless bloodshed.

now coming to the concept of love he assumes he’d get sick of love and die:

and that death is the singular goal worth chasing after because it makes you feel more alive/get a fuller picture of what living entails. but here he is erring by supposing love is something that’ll bore him/have no meaning. and it cant provide him that “something” he’s looking for. at this point he hasn’t loved so he doesnt know whether he’ll be sick of it or if it'll have no impact. And yet he’s morose and regretful. this is a kind of self-imposed constraint hes putting on himself. he cancels out the v idea of love because hes convinced it isnt worth it. he hasnt even been in love okay scratch being in love that sounds romantic and i really dont mean love in a romantic sense here...its just love. in general. any form is cool. anyway so dazai is not familiar with any kind of love. He is entirely alien to the concept. he doesnt even know what a friend/partner is so he doesnt know what love is. this is cleared out here when rimbaud confesses he did everything for paul and dazai is unconvinced:

chuuya ofc admonishes him and shuts him up for good, he says dazai has no right lookind down upon smth he doesnt understand. he doesnt understand friendship, love. or loyalty. or how important those feelings are at this point. now this situation is turned on its head in stormbringer. but before we go into that let’s look at the message rimbaud had for both of them. ik he specifically asks for chuuya to “live” but there’s purpose behind including both of them in the frame. it’s a message they should both take to heart. and at the end of it its implied both are changed after hearing it:

and in this message the first bit is for chuuya. what he says is basically memory doesn’t make u human... ”you are you” just a frame or not doesnt matter. and even if hes just a frame, he is still beautiful. beauty actually is a v important concept in literature starting right from Plato to Shakespeare. i’d not bring this here but because bsd is so deeply rooted in literature i feel like the reference to beauty, and later on to soul and even warmth and also the universal tone of this message carries some meaning. so the thing is  both Plato and Shakespeare were endorsed the idea of love as a force awakened in the world by beauty which then leads the soul to perfection. so humans and by extension, all life are beautiful frames that can inspire love. this concept is also there in Romantic poetry like Keats and Wordsworth all of them talked about loving beauty in nature and how that can elevate the body mind and soul. so essentially in telling this to chuuya what ehe basically means is that chuuya just by being him, by being a beautiful framework can inspire love and warmth in others and thats a great purpose! how much chuuya understands of this purpose with his one (1) braincell and his low self esteem is questionable but he gets some sense of belonging. now this is a two way relationship so ofc dazai has to be factored in. he comes in the next part: 

these are from 2 different translation so the disparity im sorry ;-; but anyway,  this last part abt the world being a cold place. then paul. then “warmth” is a message to dazai who’s been introduced to us as cold-hearted and having like no bearings of a human being. this is the reason why its important for both o f them to be there. now going back to chuuya being a beautiful framework, the framework can be beautiful in so far as its beauty is appreciate by someone and inspires warmth and love in someone. this again is the whole beauty/beholder nature/the romantic concept that is there in shakespeare and in Romantic poetry where both are a part of a codependent relationship. so what rimbaud implies here is that dazai can have that kind of a relationship with another person (chuuya) just like rimbaud had with paul which makes him warm and the world doesnt feel cold anymore. rimbaud has no regrets about what he did because. so the idea is that dazai and chuuya can share the same dynamic. also after this, the narrative says that their hearts are now changed and wont return to what they were before....and even their souls are refined in a way. but in Fifteen we dont have a concrete proof of how this happened bc the novel ends at this point. Instead, Stormbringer shows exactly how deep the impact of those words is: 

this is the third instance of dazai showing hesitation and once again this has to do with chuuya. the seed of the dynamic that rimbaud was talking about  is already germinating in him. his reactions, his fidgeting, his hesitancy, in response to chuuya’s situation is such a big contrast to his cocksure self when he’s conversing with adam and verlaine. after this of course we have: 

not only does he clearly express his concern but he gives chuuya 2 whole mins to make a decision and based on that he’s prepared to overturn the operation. the success rate of an alternative plan will ofc be lesser than the og one but that doesnt faze dazai. he’s ready to turn the tide for chuuya’s sake and if this is not development idk what is. just a year ago, he was someone to whom the concept of rimbaud going thru all that trouble for his friend was a lost concept. ironically enough, now he finds himself doing something that is along the same lines. he puts chuuya above his mission. to him, chuuya is more important than getting a satisfactory result. another bit that i wanna talk abt is that one controversial section where dazai says he’ll save chuuya, human or not, and then the justification is: 

i think a lot of people got mad bc of this and honestly at first glance i was peeved too. as a chuuya stan some of the shit dazai has done so far did rub me the wrong way. i love skk obv but still those were moments that kind of left a bad taste in the mouth. i’ll discuss them later on bc stormbringer helps allay that feeling. coming back to the “i wanna see chuuya suffer” part firstly context is important. ofc someone like dazai cant be expected to be upfront about his feelings with ppl (or AI) he barely knows. so what be relays to adam, is only partly true and its actually a kind of a twist in concept. the things is, and this is  smth dazai knows all too well is that ppl suffer simply on account of being human. human suffering is brought on because humans, by virtue of being humans, feel. so when he says he’s willing to acknowledge chuuya as human despite what N and Verlaine said he’s already admitting that chuuya suffers. so there is really nothing “new” to see for him. he knows chuuya suffers already and he does too because they’re both humans trying to make it thru their messed up lives. also chuuya “ceasing to be human” is a p huge concern for him bc he himself is like that. just like with the suicide thing, it bothers dazai when someone else shares his situation/his fate like as long as his life is his own, he has no problem ending it whenever but the situation is complicated when someone else’s life span is determined by that decision. and similarly, as long as he is “no longer human” its not that much of an issue because he’s like resigned to a doomed fate but someone like chuuya ceasing to be human or worse yet never getting to know if hes human or not are pressing matters. so anyways what he actually means here is that in saving chuuya, he saves someone who suffers just like he does and in their case, even the cause of suffering boils down to a shared psychological conflict: what essentially constitutes being human and if im human or not. now this sharing of pain and suffering is the foundation of forming a connection with someone, which makes life a little better. here again, what rimaud imparted to dazai and chuuya is driven home. also dazai’s key anxiety is not finding meaning/anything. this “anything” can be assumed to be something that justifies life. so all his anxiety and frustration stems from the fact that there really is no discernible meaning to be found in the mechanism of life. so it is an empty pursuit because it is true that nothing can explain why feelings of pain and suffering are exponentially heavier than feelings of happiness or why after getting to experience one (1) free day we’re back to square one where life is grueling. these are questions that really dont have an answer so every time dazai like gazes into the abyss and says he didnt  find anything, he is not so much asking if he’ll ever find anything as swallowing the hard truth that there is nothing to be found, no singular entity exists that can magically justify everything. again drawing upon literature or philosophy more specifically, there’s a concept called Absurdism which says the only philosophical truth so to say is this that life is absurd and looking for meaning is futile. instead what we can do is accept that it is absurd and deal with it in the best way possible, by finding little sources and moments of happiness, and strewing them together so we feel somewhat content. even if it is just for a fleeting second. and this happiness/contentment amidst a wretched life (altho temporal) can be found in friendship, in sharing, and even in having fun with people you’re comfortable with! this is actually why dazai wants to save chuuya and now it may seem like im interpreting his words through the shipping lens but thats not so and it can be corroborated by looking into dazai’s words to odasaku. after chuuya, dazai’s next attempt at friendship was odasaku who he found “interesting”. now when odasaku sort of like threw hands and chose death over having to live a life without the orphans, dazai tried to stop him not by saying stuff like life is good. and things will def change for the better. but instead he admits that living is hard and the sense of void is ubiquitous and yet he doesnt want him to  up and die because then he would be sad. because the little comfort that he got from odasaku and something he probably assumed odasaku also got from him would be gone. [how much odasaku considered dazai a source of comfort remains unclear. in fact the reason odasaku gave up and died was because he did not have this. this feeling of sharing in someone else’s suffering and seeking comfort in friends in the real world. instead he was too vested in his ideal world. his over reliance on an entirely idealistic concept is actually what pushed him over the edge. and this would have been the case for dazai too had he not encountered and sought comfort and companionship in chuuya and eventually in odasaku ] so this again goes on to show how rimbaud’s words changed dazai’s heart. and in a way dazai really has been doing this unconsciously form the v beginning like by teasing chuuya continually in Fifteen. you dont expect someone as cold as him to indulge in friendly bickering and taunting so often but he does. that there is significance and even happiness in that is something he learns over time, after rimbaud’s words to him. although these things seem futile on the surface they give a moment’s respite. so although chuuya spinning dazai on a rope in stormbringer might seem weird to everyone, they still serve a purpose:  

what shirase puts forward is particularly relevant here because neither dazai nor chuuya is fully aware of the extent of their feelings (or even what those feelings are like they dont know what label to put. so typical oblivious lovers) for each other or what they stand to gain just by driving each other nuts but there is something intangible but satisfying to be felt. a kind of contentment that helps him continue. one day at a time. there is no one great “thing” that can make him like wake up one day feeling like he doesnt want to die ever again. but again like i said before, the key word for dazai is “extent” so, these little things to some extent contribute to a sense of fulfilment which helps him keep death at bay. thats why he’s bent on saving chuuya bc he knows they can share in their suffering and make life better for each other. its not like he wants chuuya to suffer. chuuya will suffer nonetheless like every other human. but in suffering together there is something to be found so he doesnt want him to cease being human. 

this covers more or less the intertextuality between Stormbringer and Fifteen. i just wanna talk a bit more about a couple other moments in Stormbringer that i feel are p important because they put some things in the series in perspective and also made the dead apple moment 10x more emotional 🥺 one thing that really strikes me is the absolute fanon level of comfort that dazai and chuuya share in Strombringer. its like scenes form k-drama lol. 

so yeah this stuff. compare this with dazai’s reaction @atsushi when he drops im not saying that its not just a joke and that what im saying should be the right way to look at this contrast. its not like that at all. but what this does is give an estimate to the readers just how close and comfortable dazai feels when its chuuya. and this plus everything i rambling on abt for so long also gives us an estimate about the sincerity of dazais feelings. now 2 things always bothered me : the fact that dazai actually left chuuya and the fact that after the fight against lovecraft he actualy deserted him (this again can ofc be construed as just a humorous bit but still it did leave a bad taste in my mouth) dazai leaving the mafia is ofc something he had to do to fulfil oda’s dying wish but it still dint sit right with me that he would abandon chuuya. just like oda levaing is harder on dazai, dazai leaving is harder on chuuya. its always harder on the one left behind. so anyway, these sorts of things sometimes made me doubt dazai’s feelings but now that stormbringer clears it all up i do think there is a larger motif at work here. when mori offers dazai to come back to the mafia in s2 we see him saying that it was mori who kicked him out and that he did so because he was afraid dazai would usurp his position. so he set it up in a way that dazai would be forced to leave but on his own accord. now more than usurpation i believe what mori really did fear is that dazai had no allegiance to the mafia (which is actually true) bc he doesnt have that sense of loyalty and that to him his friends were more important than swearing allegiance to mori. (which again is true). so by getting oda killed, the message that mori seemed to be giving out was if dazai didnt leave he would do it again. and if we consider ango’s betrayal which had already transpired at that point, the one mori would next target to sort of get at dazai would inevitably be chuuya. this is only conjecture but still, i do believe this might as well be true because then it would explain why dazai didnt carry chuuya back to the base after their fight [something he was v comfortable doing in Stormbringer. in fact in the first case he carries chuuya back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so he could hear albatross’ last words 🥺] its because mori needs to know unlike dazai, chuuya is absolutely loyal to him which regrettably he is. it kinda becomes imperative therefore on part of dazai to make it seem that way to mori. that they really are at each others throats and that dazai is insignificant to chuuya. and that the mafia comes before dazai. (which is not true bc we see chuuya protecting his friend [shirase] while also staying loyal to the mafia in Stormbringer) 

mori also in his own way tries to provoke hostility b/w them like in Dead Dpple when he was all like yeah so dazai is the star and chuuya is merely bait. so it kinda makes sense if dazai left the mafia not only to like do good work but also to protect chuuya from mori. also the fact that chuuya did the same thing— left the Sheep and joined PM to protect Shirase from the mafia makes be believe that my speculation is plausible given all the parallels we find between dazai and chuuya. 

and the last bit is about the brilliant Dead Apple scene and how much added context it gets in light of Stormbringer. 

in this scene dazai first says: “you used Corruption believing in me?” and then the translation is “how beautiful” which is an okay translation but the exact thing dazai said was “nakasetekurerune” which literally is : youre gonna make me cry you know? now my knowledge of japanese is like duolingo level but i do know “nakasete” has to do with crying and “kureru” is used by the receiver to indicate he’s receiving a feeling/object from someone close. so basically chuuya trusting him is something so beautiful that it could almost move him to tears. now lets look at dazai’s intro in Stormbringer:

dazai, being dazai, ofc would be able to tell genuine trust from fealty out of fear so ofc the fact that chuuya has this kind of blind faith in him is overwhelming for him. also stormbringer really expands on the sight effects of Corruption in full detail. its so PAINFUL and to think that chuuya would jump into it right away for dazai’s sake.....no wonder he is so soft when deactivating him. and then he proceeds to flirt for a little bit with the Snow White and the kiss of life reference. but this flirting doesnt seem even a little out of place now. it doesn't feel like smth meaningless or smth that dazai is just saying as a joke. that there is absoluetly no subtext to making a statement like that. instead that kind of flirting feels like smth inspired from a deep, deep familiarity with someone who really shares his heart and soul. when he talks to chuuya abt the problem of not knowing whether he is human or not, it is a problem that is as central to him as it’s to chuuya. not feeling fully reconciled to a human identity is a problem thats fundamental to both of them. I don’t think familiarity gets any deeper than this where you share the exact same psychological problem. so its really wonderful how we can trace the skk development now: what starts out as a crush on part of dazai or not a crush exactly rather, a feeling of perplexed admiration because chuuya is breathtakingly beautiful inside out, eventually gain all these layers and develops into something meaningful where they have so much faith in each other and where they literally help each other live. knowing someone out there shares your exact issue so you’re really not alone in this is perhaps the greatest comfort in the world. also now its clear how both of them would have turned out had they not met each other and had they not taken in rimbaud’s advice. chuuya in his desire to learn about himself and frustration at not being able to do the same would have perhaps spiralled downward and ended up becoming like verlaine. he is his double here after all. and had dazai not seen chuuya up close being the wonderful person he is, he too would have probably ended up developing a god complex and becoming like fyodor. dazai is there to save chuuya literally from dying a monster and chuuya is there to remind him he too can try and mend his ways and embrace his human side. after all chuuya has so much trust him in! (despite him having questionable methods) for both of them, it starts out as an attempt to be more human, then establishing a fruitful partnership, and finally coming in terms with their feelings to some extent. for dazai, he’s comfortable enough to engage in occasional flirting at this point and for chuuya it’s playing along with dazai’s antics (well with the ones he get 💀 pretty boy has half a functional braincell) and openly showing his concern for him. so really by confirming their feelings what strombringer does is enhance the skk development in a way that Dead Apple doesnt seem like fan service anymore. the fact that dazai would casually flirt or be comfortable with chuuya landing on his crotch 💀 all that isnt as ridiculous as it first seemed because stormbringer lays the groundwork and anticipates all the intimate/flirty skk moments that have happened till now and ig will happen again soon. 

[2021ssajka]

This month has been very challenging for me. (personal post below, you can read it)

From having plans to go back to the Philippines, to cancelling that plans all together. I initially wanted to go to the PH because I wanted this to be my gift for myself as I am graduating with 2 majors. I wanted to visit my family there and spend time with them, as well as my dad (sick). 

My dad and I dont have the best relationship, so it has been even more challenging for me. 

Ive been in America for 10 years now and this whole time Ive always wanted to go back and be with my family there since I love them very much and they are a big part of my life. Ive always imagined a nice vacation and going on trips with my cousins. Painting in my little terrace of my childhood home. basically reliving my old life when I was 12. I still kept that dream till now.

I am only now realizing that, that perception of the Philippines I had in my head is still the vision I had when I was 12. I am realizing now that its a fantasy and not the reality. 

------

This planning process for the Philippines was super last minute and impulsive, given the pandemic and me finding out my dads condition is not getting better. I booked a flight right away without any plans whatsoever. I was hoping it would be a spontaneous time where my family would bring me around to places and etc. I was even just fine with just staying home and just being in the company of my cousins that I missed so much. 

Everyday since I booked that flight, there were complications and drama rising. My dad has becoming paranoid and his narcissistic ways are coming back and has been triggering me. We have been fighting a lot since then which turned into getting more people involved with this fight. Resulted with me having a major panic attack and meltdown that I do not want to go at all. 

All the bad memories I had of him in my childhood came back. Everything was coming back to me- everything that I have burned at the back of my head and forgot about. I thought time has healed me but I was wrong. my past trauma came back and I felt like I was stuck into this trip without knowing what I signed up for.

I was not okay for many days. I felt like I was a helpless child he were able to control, manipulate and emotionally/mentally abuse again. I kept praying.

It was then that the Philippines announced that there were implying a travel ban on the day I booked a flight. I felt that this was God’s interfering in order to protect me from him

--------

This has been an eye opening experience for me. 

Growing up in a traumatic household and moving to another country made me deal with things differently. I realized that me being overly positive and optimistic and being grateful for everything is a trauma response. Its a survival response. 

At a young age, My body did not know how to process these traumatic events and emotions so I shutdown. Its like when you have an accident and your body go on emergency mode and you wont feel the pain. I think that is what my body went through. I remember a time when I was a kid and I was numb for a year. It was through art when I tried healing myself and holding on for hope. 

for a long time- till now, everytime those events in my childhood are being talked about, i literally have a panic attack and I shut down. I cannot listen to it or talk about it without crying. 

When I moved here. I started a new life. I had a clean slate and I tried to forget everything bad that has happened. Its like I cleared out all the bad memories and held onto the good things, thats why I had such a fixation in my childhood in the Philippines because after a while, I only believed that I had a good childhood there. (i didnt have a right grasp of my real past). This also explains the reason why I wanted to visit that place so bad- bc i can only remember the good things, and I had a breakdown when my bad past caught up to me because that no longer existed in my head. 

This explains my fixation in my memories of the Philippines in my art work and why I use happy colors. I only saw that place as the “good place” when in reality there are many bad things happening in that country (not only in my personal life). 

ive only realized these things now... 10 years later when everything came back to me as flashbacks when my trauma was triggered. and it explains everything in my life especially in my artworks. it explains why I do what I do and I have such empathy for myself because I realize that the artist in me is the kid in me 10 years ago. 

-----

I realized that when I moved here, I viewed the Philippines as my ESCAPE. my safe haven, the place I would want to go back to and retire to since this was my home at the age of 14. I had such yearning for that familiarity when I was living in a foreign place that I developed such fantasy in that place.

I started painting when I was dealing through traumatic events in the Philippines, just when I was about to move here. I used to paint encouraging words in my art, having it as my sense of hope in those challenging times. 

I guess that still lives on in my today. I still use my art as my sense of escape and I am only realizing that now. I have always mentioned that these landscapes are my “safe haven” and now I understand why. Ive always referred to my art as a “healing act” but i never really understood why. 

I realized that my view of the Philippines is different from reality. I made this to be a romanticized place where I had a nice childhood in but that was not the whole story. 

------

This is why it is so hard for me to reference anything negative in my work. Ive always used my art as a positive act, to bring hope and encouragement. I still stand with that. I still resonate with my work and it is still valid. but now I see my work as two sided. Its not only that narrative but also the past that I have forgotten about. 

I have always had trouble with my art classes because teachers would always push me to do negative emotions in my work- so not just positive but also the negative aspect of the full spectrum of emotions.

This has always been a difficult task for me because I dont want that. My body rejects it. I used art to heal and they would want me to express the nasty emotions here. now I understand why I react that way. 

My mother is also a trauma survivor of my dad. So her, my sister and I share these experiences together. This also comes from an immigrant narrative who had nothing on her back when she came to this country, literally building herself up from dirt. My mom is the one who would always teach me to be grateful, to appreciate what we have and to be positive- to the point that thats all I did. to the point that it buried all the negative emotions and memories that I was not able to heal completely and is now still in that place. 

--------

its a lot. its like I just found out a different past that I never knew of. but im so glad I figured this out now. Its like I finally have an explanation why I am who I am today. Everything is valid, there is a reason why dealt with that problem that way and I dont regret it. 

Im just so glad I finally have answers. It just explains so much and im mindblown lol

I am not comfortable having this as a narrative of my work even if it is probably the main influence of the work i do. Im also not comfortable of talking about this personal story with other people and in my work. 

I just refuse being an abuse survivor as my story... I am more than what I have been through... so im trying to figure that out.

I am now trying to know myself again, my full self. 

Im excited to see how this changes my work hehe

[mcgrathandwives]

Someone To Lean On.

Request: 🏳️‍🌈HAPPY MONTH!🏳️‍🌈 I was wondering if it's possible for you to write a coming out piece? With the Avengers? Perhaps your family found out and it wasn't exactly the best so you had Nat or Wanda take you back to the compound and you tell everyone what happend? The Avengers being like your second family and they shower you in support? Include Carol, Nebula and Gamora too please?

A/n: reader's in their 20s. They don't live with their parents but visit every weekend or every month when they have time off. Low-key based on my coming out, but obviously it's changed up a little for the benefit of the fact my coming out was angsty af.

I DONT OWN MARVEL OR ANY OF THEIR CHARACTERS.

Word count: 3,399

Pairing: The Avengers x Reader.

--

The sun setting crept its way through the window, Natasha leaned against your doorframe as you finished packing your bag. "You ready kid?" She offered to drop you off before making her way out to meet Maria for drinks. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you squeezed by the assassin. "Y'know I'm far from a kid, Romanoff!"

Quickly you bid the others goodbye, Carol pulled you into a quick hug, whispering "Good luck." She knew how tough your family can be after a mission. Luckily you weren't too banged up this week, but that didn't mean there wasn't fresh wounds.

The drive to your childhood home was mostly quiet, Natasha did sing along to a few songs on the radio just to cheer you up a little. She's always without a doubt brought a smile to your face, at first it started as a crush- only on your part of course, she is the Black Widow after all.

But still, she took you under her wing, she became your mentor and then watched you get flustered around Wanda. Nat's been your number one since you joined the team, she really treats you like family.

Pulling up outside the house, she offers you a small smile, reaching over to hug you. "If you need anything I'm just a call away, kid."

"Thanks Nat. Don't flirt with Hill too much now." You left the car giggling at her face. It's really not a secret to you that Natasha has a thing for Maria so to make up for her teasing you about Wanda you gotta give her a little taste of her own medicine.

You did learn from the best, after all.

---

Laughter echoed around the house the second you opened the door, the smile on your face never leaving. You made your way to greet everyone and let your mom scan over your injuries, it killed you know how upset they made her but she was proud of you for doing your job, even if she didn't agree with it. You retired to your bedroom an hour or so after getting home.

The next day you woke up to a few texts from Wanda, she was wondering if you'd be interested in attending the pride parade with her and the other Avengers. Naturally you said yes, with the parade being on Monday you didn't have to cancel any family plans and it would be the first time you attended the parade since coming out so it brought a new excitement to the event.

Later in the day you helped your mom with some grocery shopping and stopped for a few photos with different people and the drive back was full of laughter as you both sang along to whatever playlist your siblings made.

You helped your dad prep for dinner as your siblings did some chores around the house. "Any plans this week Y/n?"

You were hesitant to mention going to pride with the others, you weren't exactly out and proud around your family. That's not to say all of your family didn't know, after all, the Avengers knew and they've never been more supportive, Tony and Steve have spent many an hour trying to help you work out how to 'come out' to your family.

Wanda and Carol were there for every failed attempt. Bucky, Sam and Clint were more than happy to lend you a shoulder to cry on every time you freaked out about coming out.

Nebula and Gamora had also spent a good bit of time with you, Nebula understood where you were coming from the most, she knew disappointment better than anyone. Gamora however didn't understand why you didn't just tell them like you did with her.

Thor, however, he was always willing to pretend to be your boyfriend for as long as you needed, he joked about it a lot. He was there on one occasion listening to way your dad spoke about the LGBT+ community. He understood your apprehension and did try his hardest to help you, that even mean introducing you to Brunnhilde. She didn't quite grasp the difficulty of it since she wasn't fully up-to-date on Earth's prejudices. Nevertheless, she offered her best advice as well as her time- she's one of the few people you knew that was actually out and didn't care what anyone had to say.

Natasha though?

She's been there for every second of it, from being the first person you came out to, holding your hand through every other moment of coming out to the team. She's been there for every heartbreak and she's held your hand through it all, she knew how nervous you were about being judged based on your sexuality. She knew all the stories from your school days to actually hearing first hand your family's opinion on some members of the LGBT+ community.

The team is incredibly supportive and proud of you and they made sure you knew it.

Being partly out and in the closet at the same time brings enough challenges, you're a big believer in only coming out when you, and you alone, decide when it's time.

"Em, not much actually. We have a few missions here and there and the pride parade."

Your dad stopped for a second before shaking his head, "Well, we'll have to discuss that after dinner. I can't have you getting hurt out there." His comment wasn't exactly harsh nor was it comforting, you weren't sure if he was talking about your missions or the parade but you brushed it to the side, focusing on peeling the veggies.

---

After dinner you offered to do the washing up, seeing it as an opportunity to build yourself up. To give you that final push, to come out to your parents. Half way through your inner pep talk your dad walked in, your mom following. "So pride huh?" The conversation barely started and already it struck a hint of anxiety through you.

"Yup!" You could feel the confidence drain from you quickly, "You and the Avengers?"

"Uh huh. It was Tony's idea that we be there." Your stomach was knotted with every word, heat rushing all over you. "For protection?" Your mom was quick to jump in, "Y'know for the gays? Instead of cops?"

Your arm reached behind your head, scratching at your neck, "Well partly but mostly to just celebrate. Since some of us-" Before you could finish, your dad cut you off.

"What do you have to celebrate? I don't understand why you'd be there if it's not for protection? It's not like you're going to show support for any of your friends, they clearly aren't going for your support either. I just don't understand why you'd be there."

All you could hear was your heartbeat increasing, to the point you were convinced that they could hear it too before you could process what your dad was saying you just blurted it out.

"I'M GAY!"

At that moment you watched your dad lose all self-control he had, his nostrils flared as his face went red. "How could you even know that?", "You haven't even lived your life enough to know that!", "Is it a phase? Is one your little Avenger buddies gay too?", "You don't have enough life experience to even consider being gay!" He was firing questions and statements left and right, each one getting louder.

You weren't sure if you were hurt or angry but either way, tears threatened to fall. Your back straightened, you were in flight or fight mode now and you've never backed down from a fight. "How can you even ask me that? How can you even say that!"

Your mom inched herself closer to you. "It's not a fucking phase! I've known for years! And yeah actually I do have 'enough' life experience to know my own fucking self!" By now you’d both gotten in each other's faces, flashbacks of past arguments swirled through your head as tears brimmed your eyes, this was it. "You're not gay. You can't be."

Tears started to fall freely, that it seemed to only anger your dad more, "Why are you crying? What is this not what you wanted? Not what you expected? Did you think we weren't going to have an adult conversation about this? You're too fucking young to know Y/n!" The tears fell faster now as your chest started to burn.

‘How could he be like this?’

‘What happened to I'll always support you without judgment?'

"Welcome to the real world! Not everyone is just going to take what you have to say and not question it! I'm in my given right to ask this! Stop! Fucking! Crying!"

Anger bubbled its way through you, "FUCK YOU!" Your mom froze, she'd be in many arguments with you and your dad before but never once had you really spoke to him like this, no bratty attitude, not snide comments just a firm tone. "I WAS FUCKING SCARED TO COME OUT! BECAUSE I KNEW. I KNEW YOU'D REACT LIKE THIS!" Admittedly his scoff hurt more than his words. "You and your generation, you all think you're entitled to have the flags out, and everyone claps for every little achievement you've made! I knew! I already knew! But here you have to announce it like it's news! Grow the fuck up!" Your mom managed to make her way between the pair of you, creating enough distance, she knew neither of you would try anything now. She had created a gap for you to get out of the room.

You couldn't take anymore, the shouting mixed with your panic attack burned your throat. Your chest felt like it was on fire and no matter how hard you wiped your eyes the tears wouldn't stop. Making a break for your room, you grabbed your phone, dialing the first number you could.

----

"Hello? Y/n?" Wanda's voice was laced with worry, panic washed over the other Avenger as you choked on a sob. "I-I need you to come, get me." She knew you could hear the muffled movements just like she could hear your dad shouting, Wanda stayed on the call with you, hearing everything your dad was saying, she refused to hang up when your mom came in and everything had gone quiet.

Whilst listening to your conversation, she ran to Natasha's room, banging on the door. The redhead answered with messy hair and a glare that could kill. "This better be an emergency Wanda."

"It's, Y/n, they need us. Now." The minute Natasha heard your name she was grabbing sweatpants and her keys, "C’mon then!"

By the time they got to your house, they could hear more shouting, "IF YOU WALK OUT THAT DOOR YOU'RE DONE!" The wooden door swung open, revealing you in a fit of tears, barely able to walk in a straight line due to your blurry vision. Wanda rushed to your side, whilst Natasha made her way in front of your dad. "Move an inch and see what happens!" Her tone, cold, she left once Wanda had you in the car.

The ride back was silent, apart from your sniffles and worried glances they'd thrown in your direction. You finally passed out in the back once you passed the old tower. When you arrived back at the compound, Wanda carried your bag, as Natasha pulled you into her arms, carrying you to her room.

After assuring Wanda that you'd be okay with her, Nat finally crawled in beside you. "I know you're awake Y/n." Rolling yourself into her, you let the sobs free. May spent the next two hours running her fingers through your hair, whispering little nothings to calm you down.

"I- I came out and they- he didn't like it." The assassins arms tightened around you. "We don't have to talk about it until tomorrow okay? Right now let's just try getting some sleep."

---

The next morning Natasha woke up with a numb arm, your body clung to her like your life depended on it. It killed her seeing you like this, tear tracks stained your face, your hair in a million knots, you never passed out until 3ish and Nat, well she was up and down for the next hour with you. Slowly she untangled you from her. Pulling the larger blanket over you, she decided to make you something for breakfast and call the others.

Shortly after Nat left, you woke up. Hoping last night was one horrible dream, the lack of photos on the wall however, only confirmed that you were definitely not at your parents. Your head was pounding, violently, the events still playing in your head. Tears blurred your vision again, and you tightly grabbed the blanket that was given. It smelled faintly like Natasha, calming you down a bit. You just needed a minute to collect yourself before explaining the colossal fuck up of events that took place last night.

Admittedly you weren't sure what you were more scared of, the reactions of the others to finding out what happened or the fact that your dad had finally managed to cut you deeper than any blade ever could, whilst your mom just stood there.

That sinking feeling you've felt all your life had grown, leaving you feeling heavier than ever.

---

As Y/n was still trying to build up the confidence to leave Natasha's room, the Avengers had all huddled around the island in the kitchen. All of them worried for you, "They finally did it and it went worse than they thought it would." Bucky and Peter were the first on their feet, making their way to the door. They were greeted by Nebula and Gamora, both of them wearing a threatening glare, with a flick of her finger Nebula had both of them turn back towards the group.

"So what do we do?" Steve wasn't all too familiar with this situation, but he cared for you deeply, he saw you as family and he only wanted to help. Everyone broke into conversation about a cheer up plan.

----

After an hour everyone had agreed the best way to help you was for you to tell them what you needed. Instead of them firing in all of these different ideas, it was a madhouse at the best of times but with grown adults shouting about movie days or theme parks, then of course Peter piping in with ice cream and Groot contributed beautifully by leaving because it was too loud for him- it took Natasha being picked up by Carol for everyone to shut up. So they all found themselves going about their own business waiting for you to come to them.

Another hour passed before you emerged from Natasha's room, wearing sweats and a borrowed sweater from Tony, your hair was still damp from the shower and everyone could see how exhausted you were but you knew if you didn't come out then they'd crowd you in the bedroom. You didn't need any more anxiety so you braved it.

Before you could greet anyone Gamora made her way over to you, pulling you into a hug. Nebula copied her sister's actions and soon so did everyone else, Brunnhilde snuck her way in closer to as Wanda's arms tightened around your waist. Tears fell freely from you, the group hug was admittedly a little claustrophobic but definitely needed.

Once everyone had untangled themselves from you, you found yourself being pulled into the strong arms of Thor. Each of the team, spent the next 10 minutes, pulling you into individual hugs, trying to remind you that they've got you- without overwhelming you with the same sentence. Peter held you a little longer than the others, once he pulled back he flashed you an awkward smile, the both of you were the youngest of the team and had a close sibling-like relationship. He held your wrists before saying, "Consider it from Aunt May too." He let out a small "Oof" when you pulled him back into you.

Carol dragged you over to the couch before throwing herself down beside Wanda, she pulled you down between them, cuddling into you. The room fell into a comfortable silence, the others retired to their rooms after a few movies and once you reassured them you'd be okay, you stayed between the heroes, barely paying attention to the movie.

Your thoughts were consumed with every interaction you've had in the last 24 hours. From the argument, you had with your parents to the comforting embrace of Carol Danvers. In the moment you realized that it didn't matter what you'd have to deal with in your life as long as you had the Avengers you'd be okay.

You'd have someone to lean on.

Someone to be there to pick you up when you're down.

You'd have someone in your corner. In this case, it turned out you had the world's and well technically the universe's strongest beings in your corner.

Wanda listened to your thoughts with a small smile on her face, she wasn't trying to invade your personal space- she was worried and rightfully so. She adored you, so much so, that she'd do anything to help you. She had a bit of a crush of course she did. How could she not? But you didn't need someone like that in your life right now. You need support, unconditional love and she was more than ready to throw every ounce of it she had at you.

---

Monday rolled around quicker than you thought, everyone was getting ready for the parade when you walked out sporting the rainbow design on your suit. Natasha offered to paint one on your face but you declined since your suit was basically a walking flag. Carol, Thor, Steve, and Bucky were all sporting their flags as their suits, Brunnhilde swapper her blue cape for her new cape designed to look like the Bi flag- Bruce finished it this morning, whilst everyone else wrapped flags over their shoulders or painted their faces. Hill walked in making a direct B-line to you, pulling you into her, it'd been a while since you'd seen each other. She apologized for not being here with you sooner and promised a proper catch up after the parade.

Everyone was ready to leave, you were just waiting on Tony, Pepper, and Wanda. Wanda walked out smiling sporting a rainbow jacket, instead of her red leather one, Tony and Pepper wore their suits which were covered in stickers.

The parade went spectacularly and the after party at the compound- courtesy of the Avengers LGBTQ+ charity, Pepper and Maria set up: 'to fund shelters, safe houses and more for all LGBTQ+ beings across the globe', was in full swing. Everyone was laughing, joking and enjoying themselves. There was all sorts going on, photobooths, photoshoots with the different Avengers, a dance party, food and drinks, face painting, etc. Everyone was just enjoying their day, celebrating everything they've fought for in their lives to be who they are, being out and proud about their story and their own history. It was inspiring.

It was beautiful.

It was hopeful.

It was loud too and you needed a second to yourself.

Excusing yourself from the group, making your way out to the balcony. Watching the sun setting in the distance, casting a golden-pinkish glow over the city. The birds chirped a little louder and the soft wind ghosted over the trees. You finally released your breath, the events of the weekend once again playing in your head. Your family should be here, they should be but they weren't and it hurt, your dad hadn't once reached out to you, your mom barely spoke to you when she did and your siblings, well they called and promised they'd visit after the parade- you're getting lunch with them tomorrow. It still stung that you couldn't share this experience with them.

But everyone in there, everyone that stood by you today, they made it all that bit easier. The fact that you have this whole other chosen family, people and beings that just want you around because you are, who you are.

Because you're being yourself. They're all the support you need. All the love you could ever want.

It'll all feel easier in time, you knew that. It'll hurt less in time.

[xxx-cat-xxx]

I don´t need to be the hero tonight

Another Iron Man Sickfic. This time he´s in a pretty bad shape both physically and mentally due to a battle lost, but, being Tony, tries to pretend that all is well in front of May and Peter. Set sometime after Spiderman: HC, assuming that May knows about the true nature of Peter´s internship by then. h/c, emeto, that´s it. For anyone wondering, the title is from a song I was listening to while writing (as in the first two fics I wrote).

I´d love to hear what you think about it.

Tony was mentally done with the day before it had even started. But he had promised Peter to accompany him and May on a picnic, and Tony Stark took pride in being man who kept his promises. So, he limped into the elevator that brought him down to the garage, dragged himself into one of his sports cars and set off to pick up his protégé .

He groaned when he left the highway and turned into a road filled with potholes that marked the entrance to Peter´s neighbourhood. Tony was hurting all over - nothing too serious, but enough to make him more than uncomfortable, especially when the car wanted him to witness every bump in the pavement.

He had taken heavy hits in the fight the day before, was covered in bruises and still bleeding from small to medium-sized wounds in several places. He was probably lightly concussed - at least the pounding ache in his head and the slight nausea in his stomach told him so, but he couldn´t be sure since he had not bothered to consult medical after the battle had taken a turn from bad to worse.

But to be honest, the headache might also stem from the indecent amounts of scotch in which he had tried to drown his anger after reaching back, or from the fact that he had just completed his third sleepless night in a row. He had actually planned on getting to bed early yesterday, not wanting to show up all zombie-like on Peter´s doorstep, but the debrief-turned-lecture had taken till 2 in the morning, and then his armour had been in dire need of repair, which was something he never, ever put off to later.

When he had been done mending the suit, the sun had already been up, and weighing the benefits of two hours napping against the amount of energy it would have taken to drag himself out of bed, he had opted for a long shower and a few cups of coffee in front of the TV instead. Which had done nothing to improve his mood, since footage of the inglorious battle had been playing up and down on every single channel in the country.

When he pulled up in front of May´s appartment, Peter was already waiting outside, and he couldn´t help but smirk at the happy smile on the kid´s face. He tried to get out of the car as smoothly as possible, but his swollen left knee protested at the movement and he couldn´t suppress a wince when he stood. Peter noticed and opened his mouth to ask, but Tony cut him off when May appeared.

“Pete, you never told me you were hiding a secret sister somewhere?” he joked, waving at May.

“And he never told me that you left engineering and are doing professional boxing now?” she rebutted, taking in the impressive shades of red and blue that decorated Tony´s face, before giving him a tight hug. “It´s nice to see you, Tony.”

As soon as they were sitting in the car, Peter started questioning him.

“What happened yesterday, Mr Stark? You got pretty beaten up, didn´t you?”

Tony frowned while turning down the heavy metal blarring from the car´s speakers. “Ya, kid, not really our most glorious moments. Would rather we don´t talk about it now?”

“But you should have called me! I could have helped, I-”

“No way, kiddo.” Tony gave him a serious look through the rear mirror. “That yesterday was NC-17, that was way above your paygrade. Apart from that, you had an exam, didn´t he?” He nodded in May´s direction for confirmation.

“Phh...” Peter blew out air angrily.

“Still, Tony”, May said in a softer voice, “you look pretty pale, are you alright? We saw you being thrown into that building on TV, Peter was worried all night you wouldn´t show up...”

“Hey, I wasn´t  really - that´s not fair,” Peter interrupted her, his face flushing red.

“I´m good”, Tony said, blinking away his ever-growing headache “Have a little faith, it takes more than a few criminals gone wild to bring down Iron Man.”

---

May and Peter had tried hard to produce a perfect picnic, and Tony felt guilty about how he just couldn´t really bring himself to enjoy. He pretended alright, chatting away, cracking jokes and having a competition with May about who could embarass Peter the most. He complimented May on her dress (which was in fact very nice) and the homemade food she´d brought (which was not). But in between, he could feel his mind drifting back to the battlefield, replaying the scenes, thinking about what he could have done different to yield a better outcome.

But the truth was, with a team that practically only consisted of him, Nat and his armours, with Rhodey on comm duty since he still hadn´t been cleared to fight, there was only so much he could do in a situation where they were significantly outnumbered. He didn´t want to admit it, but they would have needed Steve Rogers out there. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He felt himself grow more and more tired over the course of the morning, the lack of sleep finally catching up with him. Every muscle in his body was aching, the bruises and cuts throbbing in the rhythm of his heartbeat. His head was definitely hurting bad now, the too-bright summer sun constantly sending jolts of pain through his brain, and he wished he´d brought some Excedrin. He briefly considered asking May whether she carried any painkillers, but he didn´t want to give himself away, didn´t want to ruin the lighthearted atmosphere by getting them worried over him.

When they finally made to leave, he stood up too fast while trying to help May fold the picnic rug, and the world suddenly dissolved into pixels of blackness. Tony felt himself swaying on his feet, grasped for something to steady himself and only found Peter´s arm. He held onto it tightly while the ground tilted away from him and reality took too long to reassamble in front of his eyes.

When he could see halfway clearly again, he was on the ground, May and Peter hovering over him, their faces tainted with concern. So much for not getting them worried.

“Tony? Can you hear me?” May asked.

“Yeah, I can. I´m sorry, I´m alright”, he breathed while slowly sitting up, feeling shaky and stupid.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Peter asked, his voice high and shrill in Tony´s ears.

“I just, kind of, got dizzy for a moment.” He took the hand Peter offered to pull himself upright, trying to look like he didn´t need it, trying not to let vertigo bring him down again, and trying not to put too much weight on his bad knee.

“You didn´t sleep last night, did you?” the kid asked.

Tony´s silence was answer enough.

“Okay, we´ll get you home and then you rest, Tony.” May said with an authority in her voice Tony hadn´t noticed before. “Just get into the car, I´ll drive us back.”

“Hey, this is a very expensive model, dont break anyth- ” he was cut off with a glance that made him understand why Peter would sometimes be afraid of that woman. He briefly considered insisting that he should drive - it was is car, after all - but then deemed it not worth the argument. Also, he had to admit that he was probably not in the condition to walk a straight line right now, let alone operate a vehicle. He was seeing everything through a blurry haze, and things seemed to be moving at a lower speed than they usually did.

They drove in silence. Tony was too exhausted to come up with anything to say, and Peter, who was sitting at the back with him, was evidently unsure about how to behave. He kept on shooting him worried glances every few seconds until Tony had enough of it.

“Geez, kid, stop glaring. I´m not gonna pass out on you.” It came out harsher than intended. God, he was tired. And nauseous. He was starting to taste May´s homemade blueberry cake at the back of his mouth, and he desperately wished that they would make it back fast.

Peter just looked at him, a little sadness in his eyes. “That wasn´t what I was thinking about. It´s just...you need to start taking care of yourself, Mr Stark. You just keeled over and I, I-” he broke off, looking at May for help.

“Noone would have been angry if you had called the picnic off today, Tony.” she said quietly. “Of course we want to spend time with you, but we would have understood if you had taken the day off to rest.”

Tony knew they were right. But he also knew that the person they were talking about, a person who would cancel commitments just because he´d taken a few hits and hadn´t slept a while, was not and never could be Iron Man. So he didn´t reply, instead opting to lean his aching neck back against the headrest and close his eyes.

---

He woke up to his stomach turning over when May took a particularly narrow curve. “Shit”, he cursed under his breath. That was definitely not how the day was supposed to go. He fought down a gag, tasting bile at the back of his mouth.

“May, pull over, please - “ he urged, swallowing heavily. May took only a few seconds to bring the car to a hold at the side of the forest road. He scrambled through his brain for a viable excuse while unbolting his seat belt with shaky fingers, but he couldn´t find any. There was no time, anyways. He felt cold sweat breaking out over his brow while his stomach went into contraction.

He stumbled out of the car and limped a few meters into the forest as fast as he could, desperate to get out of eyesight, before he bent over and retched violently. He brought up undigested food he had eaten at the picnic, the smell of it making him even more nauseous. He heaved again, pain zig-zagging through his body, his worn out muscles protesting against the strain. His head was threatening to burst into pieces.

It took what felt like years for his stomach to empty itself, and Tony was trying to catch his breath when he heard Peter´s voice hesitantly calling out from behind him.

“Mr Stark, do you need help?”

“I´m good, kid” Tony croaked, his voice hoarse from retching. “Be right back, don´t come he-”

“Oh. Yikes.” Peter stepped out from behind a tree, cringing when he saw the mess on the ground.

“Told you not to come here.” Tony said weakly, wiping a shirt sleeve over his mouth and leaning heavily against a tree when vertigo made the world sway again.

“I´m okay, just, give me a minute.” he breathed, “and please don´t let May see me like this, seriously.”

“Ya, she´s not stupid. She sent me to check you´re not dead.” He took in Tony´s trembling form, frowning. “Not sure what to tell her, though.”

“I´m just....” he trailed of, unable to bring himself to lie to the kid again. “Fine, I´m not okay right now. But I will be, I promise.” He breathed in slowly. “Just took a bad beating yesterday, and I´m not good at losing. But it´s not the first time, and I´m gonna get over it. Just please don´t worry so much, Pete.”

Tony glanced over at him, trying for it not to look pleading. He was hurting everywhere, feeling like he might pass out or puke again any minute, couldn´t get that god-damn fight out of his head, and on top of it all, he had managed to get the kid genuinely upset over his lack of self-care. He had failed on all levels, and he just couldn´t handle all the emotions raining down on him right now. 

Peter seemed to look right through him for a minute.

“You want some water?” he offered finally, and Tony gratefully took the bottle to rinse his mouth. He allowed Peter to put a supporting arm around his shoulders while they slowly made their way back to the car.

“You know, Mr Stark,” Peter said when they had nearly reached the street where May was waiting, “I get it that you are upset about that battle. But... I saw the footage on TV. And if I just one day in my life put up a fight like you did yesterday, I´d be really proud of myself.”

And for the first time that day, Tony felt himself hiding not only his pain, but a genuine smile from Peter Parker.

[dearhummingbird]

3, 12, 14 xx

3. rant. just do it

ok this was a draft from when Bon Appetit was going down the drain and i was extremely annoyed and bothered by how the discussion about it was being held in this all-women Slack group i’m in. it really mostly comprises of extremely rich white mid-20year olds who only used to shop at Reformation and only use Glossier/Golde/Milk Makeup/Kosas products. a lot of it probably wont make sense unless you kept up to date with what went on with BA, but two things that i want to note is that 1) i don’t like the me who calls people crazy and goes ??????? when others share wildly different opinions from me, even when i think those opinions are flat out wrong. it’s language that im trying to change bc i also do it when im even mildly annoyed at people, which is bad. that’s one reason why i didnt initially post this here bc i was abit ashamed. idk if thats right or wrong but ya. 2) i didnt share this earlier bc while i still stand by what i said about Gaby being an immigrant status i was and am afraid of being called out as insensitive or wrong. it would be nice to hear opinions about this, if anyone has any at all. but yes, it is very long and very passionate, please dont mind......

this is with regards to the BA drama and the Slack group i mentioned here awhile ago. the people there are so...????? not only is their cancel culture ugly but their flimsy explanations and lack of care for their words just makes everything that comes out of their mouth performative. there’s a whole thread with 150++ messages about the BA situation and i said i was sorely disappointed with Gaby’s willy nilly response to the initial Sohla uprising. for context, Gaby is Argentinian, is BA’s test kitchen manager as well as the oldest member of the BA universe. she posted a story saying: “Hey guys! I am not one for following what the heck is going on! You know me, I do my own thing! I cook and be happy! 💚🌈 💚🌈 💚🌈” while the BIPOC members of BA were risking their jobs by going public about the systemic racism within Conde Nast. the white members of BA had stood in solidarity(🤔) with the BIPOC members, and Gaby is the only one who chose to bow out of all of it. someone replied saying maybe its bc Gaby’s an immigrant, like their mom, who was afraid to get involved in politics of any sorts because doing so in her time meant death. please tell me if im being insensitive but i think thats a grossly biased biography to impose on someone else, esp w such a clearly tonedeaf “💚🌈💚🌈” response at a time like that. i replied that and said yknow what, maybe thats true, maybe its not, but Gaby couldve read the room and given a much more neutral response even if she didnt care about it. THEN someone else replied saying they agreed with the previous person - “[i think] people are being too harsh on her. She is of a different generation who perhaps doesn’t grasp the role of social media in this movement. How can we expect her to condemn her EIC in the most thoughtful, politically correct way, when English is not her first language and the US is not her first country?” ???????? just saying Gaby doesnt “get it” bc shes old and an immigrant? i thought it was wholly condescending and fired back saying Gaby has mentioned being in the states fr a very long time and she knows how to put up highlights on instagram ffs, shes tech and English savvy. i also said Gaby’s language was very telling and tonedeaf “i do my own thing”. then the person replied saying “oh i didnt mean it like that, her response to me was representative of tbings we’ve heard from our own immigrant families right? “A lot of survival as an immigrant is tied to “I do my own thing” and that is inherently privileged while being a victim of the white supremacist system at the same time” 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 i did not like the “right?” super annoying rally tactic like actually debate w me dude. and if she hadnt meant to say Gaby didnt “get it” maybe she shouldve worded her thoughts far more carefully. also um..? i understand what youre saying but my whole point is Gaby shouldve been more careful with her words. pegging all of this onto her immigrant status, while may be right, seems so¿ what if Gaby didnt give a fuck, just like she shows she doesnt in her words? then what? like? am i crazy?? then i said i‘d rather she had said nth at all if she was gonna hang her members to dry. THEN THE PERSON RESPONDED, “LETS BE REAL [INSERTS BA’S WHITE MEMBERS] ARENT GNA LOSE THEIR JOBS” ????? I was very clearly talking about the BIPOC members...... why would i talk abt the immune white members..... she mustve barely read anything i said!!!

then w regards to the Delaney situation, some of them were like “he was in college when he used the queer slur?? when i was in high school everyone already knew better than to say it” “19???? way too old to be saying shit like that” sure he shouldve known better but age should not be the issue here. + Delaney has been one of the most vocal BA members abt BLM! hes clearly changed as a person, if not is at least one willing to learn frm mistakes! people were hunting him down on twitter, screenshotting shit frm 2012. they called him a coward fr deleting his twitter and tumblr - but whats the point of digging fr more shit to say “yes Delaney was indeed a bigot frat boy” when you already have a handful. i never knew what cancel culture was until this. other things theyve said include “🚫 no more conde nast 🚫 society has moved past the need for conde nast / ugggghhhhhh damn it, it’s my fault for thinking a white man could be unproblematic” howww. Later on Brad said he would quit if they fired Delaney and everyoneeee was like “duh Brad’s an outdoorsy white man 🥴🥴” ??? 1. THATS A DUMB STATEMENT TO MAKE 2. THE PERSON WHO POSTED THIS IS ALSO WHITE. what if Brad will quit bc Delaneys a friend????? then what? 85% of the BA team is white, Carla and Molly went to Italy while Chaey wasnt even paid fr the Thanksgiving series, Claire gets something crazy like 20k for every gourmet makes, and Molly was the chummiest member with Rapo, and you’re saying “duh Brad’s an outdoorsy white man”?? get your shit together

ok last one is when in response to my point about how Molly was so friendly w Rapo that she was the only one who‘d snap at Rapo as if he wasnt the scary prissy boss the same girl who said Brad is an outdoorsy white man said “oh i actually saw that as a personal coping mechanism against Rapo’s toxicity!!” i really died