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#because it’s so painfully realistic
ickypuppi3 · 2 years
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harringrove is such a good ship because they’re literally just two guys
like when you put them together they get the chance to be normal teenagers who just have a lot of shit going on in their lives
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lesbiansanemi · 1 month
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I am so fucking sick of living with my roommate and his fuck ass boyfriend. Also watching my roommate burn every single one of his (already rather minimal, I might add) bridges for this guy is also kind of painful but also his relationship with me is one of said bridges so I'm almost past the point of even feeling bad for him lmao
#i have had to piss for probably the better part of an hour now#because they decided to take a shower together and have been in there for well OVER an hour now#and this is a nightly occurence atp sometimes MULTIPLE times a day#we have one bathroom.... can yall not be considerate enough to not be in there for up to TWO HOURS AT A TIME???#also it's such a waste of fucking water....#idk we've hit a point where i literally hear the bf doing anything and i get pissed off#but also tell me why i'm sitting in my room (which shares a wall with the bathroom) and i can hear this man hacking and spitting shit up#and this is also something that happens multiple times a day#like.... dude.... why are you spitting up toothpaste so fucking loudly oh my fucking god#but yeah no i'm like my roommate's only friend atp and he's about to not have me lmao like we're about to reach#'i'm cutting you off when i move out' levels of me being pissed off with this whole situation type shit#and apparently the bf convinced him to come out to his family which his mom was chill which is good#his dad's side of the family though....? not great. and my roommate KNEW that would be the case cuz we'd talked about it before#also love that my roommate has constantly talked about moving out of the city we live in because he hates and also there's no good career#opportunities for him here (which is true)#and now. MAGICALLY. he's like 'idk i think it'd be best for me to stay here'#like oh my GOD???? are you hearing yourself???? are you fucking stupid???? you fucking hate it here???#but sure throw your life away and ruin all your meaningful relationships for a guy you met six months ago jfc#and the thing is i *know* my roommate we've been close CLOSE friends for nearly a decade now#i know he is not like this.... like yeah he's being insane by allowing this but also i know these aren't the kinds of decisions he would ma#and also i know he wouldn't treat me like this all on his own#it's the deranged fucking control freak of a guy he decided to date and my roommate has too many of his own issues to put his foot down#about certain things and tell the guy no so he's just allowing him to completely take over his life#and fuck everything up until the bf is the only thing he has left once it's all said and done#and yeah. it's painful to watch. but also wtf am i supposed to do because obviously my opinion is not respected nor wanted regarding this#that has been made PAINFULLY clear#ugh this is so fucking horrendous#what is it with ppl who start to date someone and then go clinically fucking insane and destroy their lives all for this one person#who. realistically. they barely know in comparison to all the other ppl in their life#like explain it to me jfc
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lover-of-mine · 3 months
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Seeing people watch 911 for the first time and be like "I thought the buddie girlies were overreacting, but I have watched the show and I get it now" will never not be fun.
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trans-xianxian · 5 months
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lith-myathar · 3 months
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#so#here is the thing#when you've spent most of your life in a very happy relationship with fantasy#the idea of having a relationship in *reality*#well that may not be very happy. might result in feeling like your heart got ripped out your asshole. but even ignoring that#suddenly the amorphous idea of a partner (which can be anything) takes the shape of an actual person#which can very much only be one thing. this feels like doors closing. feels like getting trapped#part of the difficulty here is that i have difficulty not thinking in the long term (this is a defense mechanism apparently) so#even allowing the possibility of being with someone feels confining#because what if the reality is painfully disappointing (like everyone keeps telling me it will be#bc nothing can measure up to the fantasy) and then im trapped between a lifetime of disappointment and breaking somebody's heart#like. fantasy and Yearning leave one empty to a degree but they've kept me *alive*#and how could the reality ever have that same emotional high while also being Safe and in control#also it doesn't hurt anybody#my over the top desire for intensity feels like something nobody's ever going to want to match. too big. too much. unhealthy prolly#even if they did it wouldn't necessarily be a good thing#so. better maybe to quarantine myself to fantasy.#the Rewards of Being Loved tho. i want those.#realistic and rational part of me knows that Those are the Real Good Healthy Thing that will help the pain#but damn if im not attached to my little pet torments#what if i don't want to be healed? does suffering and trauma just sort of get you addicted to the intensity of emotion and then you're jus#chasing that forever? is anything healthy ever going to feel like Enough???#like how do you just ask somebody ''hey do you want to crawl inside each other's rib cages and take everything way too fucking seriously#so we can attempt to maintain a perpetual state of Desire and the subsequent altered state of consciousness until we both die?''#''but in like a chill way?''#like that's *insane*#im insane. is there any way to have both???#ugh. anyway. don't get crushes this sucks.
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fungi-maestro · 1 year
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The Question #5 (1987)
#book club#the question#myra connolly#myra fermin#comics#dc comics#myra is an example of the people working inside the system that are passionate about change and understand that one person can't change all#but in this moment she realizes that passion can drive someone to doing things they couldnt have thought they were capable of#and sure this can be used to cause suffering. shes just like everyone in hub city. in the world. in that passion can lead her to harm.#which i think is ultimately what makes her more effective in some ways than vic was. shes realistic#her and the most seedy criminal in hub city are one seperated by less than she thinks. same applies to the highest government official.#unlike vic myra doesn't suffer from as much of a martyr complex. she doesnt need to throw herself into a meat grinder every day to atone#vic doesn't need to either but he spent so long thinking he did that he hasn't quite realized that he doesn't need to#i dont think he does until much too late. myra realized it as soon as she plunged that knife into hatch.#i think that was the moment that she realized she didn't need to be a self sacrificing reporter that warned of horrible things#in the hope that someone does something about it#vic changes things by getting beat to a pulp because at his core he thinks this is all he can do. sacrifice every part of himself painfully.#myra changes things by being passionate and being realistic about who she is and the power she wields.#they're two sides of the same coin.
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kimmkitsuragi · 9 months
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that moment when internet dies every 2 minutes <3
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theramblingvoid · 1 year
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This month's Exceptional Story is seeping into every single one of my brain wrinkles. Mr Fires. Godawful union busting loophole exploiting deal breaking Mr Fires. Cartoon villain walk practicing multiple villainous monologue per one single story sulking if it doesn't get a funky light machine for its collection Mr Fires. It's absolutely pathetic. It's unimaginably ominous. It's glorious. It's evil but not in the fun sexy way but it's trying to be in the fun sexy way but it's failing so hard. I love it. I hate it. I'm going to spin it around in a centrifuge and then throw it at a wall like a limp dishtowel. Mr Fires.
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gay-dorito-dust · 13 days
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hiiii!!! im not too sure if requests are open, if they arent please just ignore this!!!!! i really really loveeeee the way u write angst!😭✌️ could i please request blade, dr ratio, aventurine and sunday reacting to finding their loved one on the floor barely alive? UGHHHH I IMAGINE THE SHOCK AND FEAR AND BREATHLESSNESS aqhjddkkxnsk
thank u smmm!!!!!😭🩷🩷
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Aventurine
Didn’t think it was possible to physically feel his heart being ripped from his chest anymore then it already had, until he spotted your bruised and barely conscious body lying on the floor in a way that made his blood become ice cold.
‘No.’ He whispered to himself in disbelief as a tight feeling blossomed within his chest. It felt as though he was being painfully constricted or squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, a feeling that only grew worse with every step he made towards you until he was finding it hard to breathe.
‘No.’ Aventurine whispers again, not wanting to think of anything that he was seeing before him as real but more of a realistic nightmare. ‘Please don’t take them away from me, I’ll have nobody left.’ He pleads as he drops to his knees and struggled with unsteady hands to pull your body towards him and holding you tightly in his arms as he rests his head against your chest, desperate and hopeful of hearing your heart beat as proof that you were alive.
‘Haven’t you taken enough from me!!?’ Aventurine screamed at the top of his lungs, staring up at the ceiling as though the Aeons would hear the rage, the heartbreak and the pain within his voice. ‘Haven’t I suffered enough by your hand?! You have taken everything and everyone I have ever loved and now you think you can take from me again just because you feel like it!?!’ He continued to scream, letting everything he’s kept inside out as rivers of tears streamed down his cheeks, blurring his vision of you as he looked down at you as he felt his soul cry out for yours.
Everything within Aventurine was hurting and it was hurting like hell but that didn’t loosen his hold on you one bit, if anything it made him tighten it, almost as though he was the only thing stopping the deities from claiming your soul as theirs. Aventurine would fight them to keep you if he must and he didn’t care what the consequences of doing this would be, his left hand was more unsteady then ever as it desperately grasped for your hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing; letting out a whimper when he didn’t feel you squeeze his hand back like you always did to reassure him that you were not going anywhere.
‘Please.’ Aventurine begged as he pressed his forehead against your own, not wanting to walk through this life if the one person who stood by his side wasn’t going to be there. ‘Don’t take them away from me, not now, I don’t want to be alone anymore.’
Sunday
He’s seething and seeing red.
He’s unable to contain his anger as he rushed to your side, clasping your hand tightly between his own, as though he could transfer some of his strength to you in hopes it would allow him to look in your pretty eyes again.
‘My love, I beg of you, tell me who did this to you.’ He pleads as could only watch your body with a sense of hopelessness and desperation for a sign. ‘Tell me who did this to you and I shall make them pay tenfold.’ He adds as his anger became harder and harder for him to conceal, how could he possibly keep his composure when you had been attacked because of your ties to him? Someone was out to get him but did so through underhanded means rather than direct confrontation and for that Sunday couldn’t help but think of a multitude of ways to capture this cowardly assailant for harming you.
When you did not answer him Sunday felt parts of his sanity begin to slip away as his breath hitched in his throat and his hands tightened on yours. ‘My love I beg of you to stay with me, for I cannot loose you now nor ever, I forbid you from leaving me this way. I cannot breathe without you, I cannot smile without you, for you are my lifeline in every sense of the word.’ He says as he felt the colour in his life begging to fade from view and become monochrome.
You were the colour in his life, you always have been, and without you he couldn’t see the beauty nor value in anything anymore as you were the most valuable thing to him. Sunday felt himself grow cold with every second they passed where you didn’t do anything to tell him that you were okay, all reason had left him as revenge took it’s place and almost as though a switch had been flipped within his head, Sunday stopped crying as his face became a blank slate.
‘I’ll keep you safe my beloved.’ He said as he lifted you in his arms. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything else ever again once I bring back the person who did this to you at your feet, pleading for mercy and to spare their pathetic life.’ He then presses a kiss to your forehead as he looked ahead with a pair of dead, unfeeling eyes. ‘I promise this to you and so much more, just you wait my heart, I shall gaze upon your eyes soon enough.’
Ratio
He kind of internally shuts down upon seeing you laying on the floor, barely alive.
He stands there for prolonged periods of time not saying anything but it was clear within his eyes that Veritas was struggling to comprehend the situation before him in a logical manner.
Everything was quiet as though someone had just removed all sound out of the room and all he could focus on was the fact that you were barely moving, barely breathing but the expression on your face made it seem as though you were in a peaceful slumber. Veritas would soon snap himself out of his own mind and made his way towards you before kneeling by your side, he then placed two fingers to the pulse point in your neck and letting out a uneven sigh when he felt your pulse beat softly against his fingertips.
He hasn’t even noticed that he had been crying until he felt something wet hit his clothed thigh and reached up to touch his cheeks that were wet with the trail his tears had left. Nothing felt real yet everything was becoming too much for the scholar as felt himself actively trying to disassociate from everything as a way of dealing with the possibility of you dying.
His body is wracked with fear of an uncertain future as he kept his fingers glued to your pulse as a way as to ground himself in the reality that you were still alive despite what your current state looked like. He remained by your side silently, not a single word left his lips as he remembered your last conversation, it wasn’t pretty and a few unsavoury words were exchanged before you left his office with a heavy heart.
Veritas felt partially guilty for your current state even though everyone knew he had no part in it but he felt guilty regardless for how things were left between you two. He regretted not apologising for his blunt words and harsh criticism earlier, and now he had to deal with the horrible idea that that could’ve been your last ever conversation you had with him, along with the idea that you thought he might’ve hated you as you were left alone in a empty room after having been attacked in what you believed were your final moments.
Something of which that wasn’t true at all, Veritas loved you dearly and held you close to his heart whenever you were apart, finding himself longing to come back to your side and fall asleep together within the comfort of each others arms. However that didn’t mean much when he could barely hold you without touching a wound by accident and keeping his hands to himself for the rest of the day in fear of hurting you further.
Veritas had never felt such raw fear in his life until you were almost taken from him and on such negativity terms too. Something he wishes to never experience ever again.
Blade
Death refused to claim him and so it decided to try and stake its claim over you -the one person whom Blade cared deeply for -which didn’t sit right with Blade as he wordlessly held you in his arms, his jaw clenching at the sound of your pained whimpers.
‘Death won’t have you,’ he began, ‘I won’t allow it to because if it refuses to give me what I have been long since owed, then I will keep you from its clutches for as long as I can until it submits to our whims.’ Blade then kisses your forehead. ‘I will not let it claim you when you have so much to do, whereas I on the other hand, have nothing left ahead of me.’
Blade hated seeing you hurt but this only made him want to hunt down whoever did this to you and make them pay with their life, but he knew he couldn’t leave you on the assumption that they might come back and finish you off when he turned his back, so he stays by your side like a guard dog with his hand at the hilt of his sword constantly as he awaited for help.
Blade never thought he’d find himself in a situation where he wished death didn’t come, especially when that person was you because you were his guiding light, his only love and he would do anything to keep you safe and protected from all harm that came your way; even if that meant denying death to have your soul.
In comparison to him, you had so much more to offer and so much to accomplish in life, and Blade knew he would never forgive himself if he were to let you die before you even saw the fruit of your labour with your own two eyes. He wanted you to reach the stars and see that all your work wasn’t for nothing and then see you reach heights that he could only dream of touching.
He didn’t care what happened to him, he could heal as fast as he was hurt but you, you couldn’t heal like he could and the wounds that littered your body would become scars, scars that would look similar to his own that reminded you of what you had survived by the skin of your teeth. Blade didn’t want to loose you to something he could’ve easily prevented from happening, he felt as though he had failed you and for that he couldn’t forgive himself for what happened to you, calling it a mishap on his behalf in ever leaving you unguarded.
So now he stayed close to you, hand at the hilt of his sword, tempting fate to try and take you away from him again.
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p-perkeys · 1 month
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i really like baby reindeer because of how fucked up it is.
i like that it captures the realistic complications of being a victim too.
so often people have a tight little box that they try to fit a victim into, like someone sweet, innocent, never wrong, etc.
you can be a massive pos and also be a victim to someone else.
also, sometimes you can be a really great person, and then you can encounter a trauma that wrecks your life and makes you appear "messy" or "problematic" to people who don't know better.
also, when you're a victim to ongoing abuse, it's a very normal reaction to have very complicated feelings about your abuser. especially if the abuse is sexual, be it outright or a suggestion.
also, it's a natural defense mechanism for victims to reciprocate the actions of abuse either by way of feeling like they have some control, or because they think it will hurt less if they seem willing. that can apply to any kind of abuse.
the bit of the police putting him as her equal is... jarring and painfully accurate. his own actions appearing equally abusive is so sad because only he knows why he did those things.
i'm not done yet with this series, watching now, but... i really love this.
this was a brave mini. the fact that it is based on his story makes it all the more beautifully tragic.
i wish more victims would share their stories in their authentic light.
the world needs stories like this.
the part where he said he was addicted to hating himself and that he loved hating himself... fuck, dude.
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byuntrash101 · 8 months
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realistic sex with seonghwa
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seonghwa x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: welcome to this series. where i'll try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. u voted for our shinestar to be the first one but tell me in the comments/asks who u want to see next. enjoy ♡ disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.
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in the relationship he's very loving and attentive. seonghwa is a romantic at heart. he loves big gestures. like expensive gifts and fancy dinner dates. he's a passionate man
(an aries ♈)
although he's not into pda (doesn't dread it as much as hongjoong though who he utterly despise it). he likes to hold you and kiss you but he would rather do it privately
but oh boy when he gets you alone. you will drown in the love. you will suffer the wrath of his aggressive hugs and kisses
he will literally kiss your cheeks so hard that it will scrunch up your face or hold you so thigh that you can't breathe. for him there's no other way of showing his love for him. it's ardent and burning.
(did I say an aries?)
talking of getting you alone *wink wonk*
a ✨neat boi✨
he will always prepare a towel to you clean up before you even truly starts
I feel like you guys are kissing and things get a little heated he would straight up ask if you tryna fuck 
slkslskdlsdkdk
as soon as you say yes he hops off the bed/couch and goes to get the kit™ which includes towels, lube and toys
he might be prepared to clean up afterwards but thats only because he fully intends on getting n-a-s-t-y with you. before he cleans this man is going to make a mess
seonghwa is freaky (member of freak line with woo mingi and joong even if I think he's the less freaky out of the four). he plays coy but i feel like the demon takes possession of him when he’s on stage or in bed. 
he lives for the applause that's why he gives me the vibe of a service top. he usually doms but he will occasionally sub if his partner is into it.
if he subs that would mean he truly trusts his partner and he's ready to give up control. which I feel is something that is difficult for him to do
he will like to be on the bottom and seeing you ride him. 
he's more into praises than degradation but I feel like he would enjoy a healthy blend of both
"my good fuck toy", "you're being so good to me", "what a good little slut"
nothing too mean. he will surely enjoy being bossed around. (cfr that fancall where he literally folds because op tells him not to make her wait). he will enjoy when you give directions. command him to get in his knees for you, or tell him to open his mouth
but wether he subs or doms he will always enjoy some biting. he loves loves loves when you're close to him and you sink your teeth in the crook of his slender neck. he enjoys the slight pain
but most of the times he will top/dom. that's his comfort zone and it shows.
like I said earlier that man lives for your approval and your recognition so he will do anything to satisfy you.
and he will take 👏 his 👏 sweet 👏 time.
quickies aren't for him. he's a perfectionist. when he does something he does it 100%. he gives his all or he doesn't see the point in even starting… he'd rather wait until you have more time.
seonghwa loves and I means loves to give oral. he's oral giver line with mingi.  
he's ready to spend hours on knees head buried in your pussy ignoring his sore jaw and painfully hard cock just to make sure that when he stops your legs and trembling and you've soaked the bed all the way to the matress.
and the worst (best) part is that he's far from done
it's only the beginning of the fun
there's no point in changing the rhythm so once again when he finally slides into you he takes his time. he will coat himself with your juices grazing his tip along your folds and extra sensitive clit before pushing it in very slowly.
all the while being very quiet. barely exhaling a small sigh of pleasure because one big thing about hwa… he loves sounds. he has a huge auralism kink. so he will stay quiet just to get even hornier on the way you sound.
he wants to heart it all in great detail. (the perfectionism kicks in once more)
he wants to hear your pussy gushing out more nectar for him as he slowly fills you up
he wants to hear how you hold your breath while he gives that first slow stroke that you've been begging him for what feels like hours.
then sighs in pleasure as he reaches the bottom of you.
there he will bend down to kiss you.
sloppy kisses. very sloppy. with lots of tongue. he wants to share your taste (and realust of his hard work) with you
that's why I think hwa's favourite position is missionary. he can hear better and he can kiss you while fucks you.
he loves to make you moan into his mouth. he wants to swallow your every sound of pleasure he wants it all.
and he won't be satisfied until he makes you cum at least twice (and i insist thats the bare minimum). because hwa is an over achiever and also a good guy and as goes the famous saying: nice guys finish last.
it's only when you're satisfied (read: exhausted and worn out to the bone) that he will finaly cum too.
he doesn't have favourite spot he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. well at least that's what he says because I feel like he loves to finish inside or all over your pussy.
he loves to see how good he ruined you and messy your cute little cunt got for him. pulsing, weeping, creaming. all swollen and red.
he loves to know he's the one that made you like this. 
hwa is possessive it's less on the nose then joong but still
also you remember when I said freaky?
he's def the type that goes down on you for sloppy seconds after he's finished. if he's feeling extra generous (sadistic) he will drag out yet an other final orgasm out of your exhausted little cunt. just to have the pleasure of hearing you whine louder and squirm under him. pining your thighs open while he tastes himself on your folds.
with hwa it's not over until it's over
and finally he will share the delicious blend of your burning love for one an other with you in a passionate kiss. this time around the passion is more controlled less carnal and more romantic. he wants to show you again how much he loves you and this kiss is the prefect way
right after of course he's running around the place to bring you water and clean you up
maybe even washing you up in the shower if you aren't too tired and you can still stand (9 times out of 10 you can't) if you are too tired then he'll simply let you sleep in his arms (and never in the wet spot. if only there's one. chances are he prepared well enough and there's none)
like I said a neat boi <33
who should i post next?
IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤
realistic sex with mingi, with yunho, with wooyoung | ateez masterlist | navigation
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morverenmaybewrites · 4 months
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Domestic Arkham!Jason Todd Headcanons
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Y’all ever think about the inherent tragedy of Arkham!Jason craving something as simple as domesticity? 
How he craves the comfort of home-cooked meals, but can’t actually eat anything he hasn’t prepared himself. Because during his time in Joker’s captivity, almost everything he was served was either poisoned or rotten, and now every time he eats, it’s like he’s expecting the burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Can you imagine the frustration he must feel at his inability to share a simple meal with you? 
The sudden clench in his gut when he realizes that he wasn’t there to watch you prepare the food, and despite the fact that he trusts you, he can’t help that familiar dread rising in the back of his throat. 
Jason tries, for you, he tries. 
But there are times, more often than not, when he feels the phantom burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth–and his body reacts before his mind does. 
And suddenly he’s hunched over the sink or the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food, and it’s almost like he never left Arkham Asylum.
Can you imagine the absolute burning jealousy he feels whenever his family interacts with you with an ease he can only dream of? 
Maybe it’s a movie night, during one of those rare times when Gotham City didn’t need saving, and there’s Tim and Dick and Barbara piled on the couch. And you fit so well with them–a tangle of limbs and careless laughter at a dumb joke Dick made–that it’s Jason who feels like an outsider. 
Jason sits apart from all of you, the only person to pick an armchair instead of the couch, because every time he tries to sit close to someone, all he can think is whether they’re close enough to see his scars.
The table is piled high with snacks, more than the five of you can realistically eat in an evening. There’s popcorn and pizza, mozzarella sticks and pretzels, several bars of chocolate that can only be found in Bludhaven, the air is thick with the smell of grease and cheese dust. 
And it’s almost like being a teenager again. Before that night and the Joker and everything else that followed. 
It’s almost like being a teenager again, dizzy with the good fortune of being adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne, watching some dumb flick with his siblings when he was supposed to be training. Ordering takeout food and laughing along with Dick at Alfred’s visible disappointment as they stuff their faces. 
It’s almost like being a teenager again, but not quite. 
Jason watches the four of you pass around a bowl of popcorn, arguing about which genre of movie to start with. But when Barbara tries to hand it to him, he feels a sudden clot of heat in his chest, and he’s already shaking his head before he even knows why. 
And he realizes, he’s afraid. 
He doesn’t know who made the food or what restaurant it was ordered from, and he is sure if he asks, no one would be able to give him all of the names of people who handled it. 
The burn of poison and the taste of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Poisoned cake and rotting rats. The writhing of pale white maggots against bone and glistening meat and gristle.
He doesn’t touch anything for the rest of the evening.
Can you imagine how scared he is? 
Jason is so acutely, painfully aware of how exhausting it is to be with him. To be with someone you can’t even share a simple meal with. 
And he wonders how long it will be before you get tired of him.
Bruce, after all, had left after he had seen the twisted thing Jason had become. 
And if his own father couldn’t even stomach his presence–
And suddenly he’s hunched over again, over the sink or against the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food. 
And it really is like he never left Arkham Asylum after all.
This is what he thinks, when he finally collapses on the tiles of your bathroom floor, cold sweat pouring down his face. Your presence hovering over him like a ghost, a thousand apologies pouring from your throat. 
But it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him. 
It’s this awful thing in the back of his head, always expecting the next threat, the next injury, the next sick game the Joker has come up with. 
It’s the fact that his days with the Joker had left him so twisted and strange that he can no longer fit into a normal life, even when he wants to. 
And this is what he thinks, when you catch the way he is not watching the movie at all. But instead he is looking at his family’s faces, his chest pulsing with a jealousy so fierce it might as well have been his heartbeat.
Jason wishes–oh, how he wishes–it was that easy, that simple for him. 
You disentangle yourself from his siblings–Dick had already fallen asleep, head lolling heavily on your shoulder, to pad your way to him. You sink down onto the armchair to share it with him, practically on top of him, and he marvels at the way your heat dispels the chill that has crept over him. 
Your hands are small compared to his, but they are just big enough that when you lay them atop of his, he does not have to think about whether you can see the scars. 
This is what he thinks, on days like these. It is something he always thinks, a small voice in the back of his head that is never silenced.  
He doesn't deserve you. 
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Thanks to @red--pirate for the idea!
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dfortrafalgar · 2 months
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God, Finally
You're both tired of playing chicken each time you try to have sex.
Law x Fem Reader
Warnings: MATURE 18+, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS INTERACTING WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED, fluff, fluff and smut, first time, soft law, mutual performance anxiety
Author's note This was born because I wanted to write a more realistic smut about the awkwardness that can sometimes come with sex for the first time, especially with someone as intricate and complex as Law.
Also posted on AO3
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You wanted it.
Law wanted it.
Both of you made it very obvious that you wanted it.  Your flirtatious glances toward your stone-cold boyfriend tossed innocuously over the galley dining table, or the way Law formed the addicting habit of running his lanky, inked fingers across your waist when passing you through the tight corridors of the Polar Tang, unnoticed by anyone else on the crew, but scorching through your jumpsuit like a hot ember.  The intense love you had for each other was clearly reciprocated.  You often dreamt of moments spent with the raven-haired man under the thin sheets of his bed in his quarters, running your own hands along his defined shoulders or ghosting along his heavenly abdomen.  Likewise, Law would often use his time alone in the shower to release his feelings for you, utterly infatuated with every aspect of your body and soul.  The kindness of your heart was just as alluring as the way your favorite dress hugged your body like it was sculpted just for you, and Law couldn’t get enough.
And yet, despite all of the deep, intense feelings shared between the two of you, everything would dissipate the second things got moved to the bedroom.
The first time you and Law tried anything, you were straddled across his lap on his bed, his thin sheets and one lonely pillow tossed to the side as your lips ghosted over his collarbones in tandem with his hands working to remove the tanktop you wore under your boiler suit.  You had gotten as far as both of you being shirtless when things suddenly got awkward, as if a circuit breaker popped.  No spark between either of you.
You sat atop Law’s hips, no indication of arousal anywhere to be found below his waist.  You, similarly, felt nothing.  As your eyes locked with his confused, almost frightened, golden ones, all the sexual tension that had built up within the small metal confines of his private room was gone as if it was never there in the first place.
“You… uhm…” Law tripped over his words, and flushed a deep crimson after damaging his own ego with his obvious nervousness.  “You look nice.”
You blinked.  “Thanks…?”
Neither of you really knew what happened, but after you pulled your shirt back over your head and carefully hopped off of his mattress, the two of you didn’t speak for the rest of the day after that.  Things were pretty much back to normal after a few days of taking some time for each of you, and the next time you tried was about 10 days after your first failed encounter.
You were once again back in Law’s quarters, this time kneeling on the cold metallic floor as you gazed up at him with hungry, ravenous eyes.  Some dirty talk was successfully bounced between the two of you, and quite frankly, you were pretty desperate to suck his dick despite not yet having seen it for yourself.  Law was already enjoying the feeling of grabbing your hair in his fingers, loving the way your eyes fluttered shut with the sensation of his firm yet tender grip on your head to guide his lips to yours as he hunched over you.  You kissed your way through undoing the belt of his speckled jeans, pulling the faux leather through his belt loops and discarding the accessory to the side on the floor.  You made quick work of his button, then his fly, his hips lifting to allow you to shimmy his pants to his knees.  He was hard, painfully so, and his dick truly looked as pretty as you imagined it would.  
But when your lips finally separated from the steamy kiss and your focus was directed solely on his erection, all the confidence you had built up packed up its bags and said it was going out for cigarettes.  Your hands rested limp on Law’s thighs, his hands resting on the edge of the mattress.  He stared blankly at you staring at his dick.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.  He could already feel his own arousal leaving, blood once again flowing back to his brain.  With the extra oxygen, he started to worry if he was the problem.
“No, nothing’s wrong, I just…” you faltered, “I’ve never done this before.”
“Oh.”
Just like your first encounter, your second attempt ended in utter failure.  You awkwardly stood up, brushing invisible dust off of your knees before uttering a quick apology with your head dipped.  You quickly made your way out of his quarters, leaving Law sat befuddled, dick having gone completely flaccid in record time.
Two more additional, and equally as mentally painful, encounters happened since, and in the weeks that passed, the two of you started to develop your own individual anxieties.
Law was petrified that he was the problem.  He was worried that he was moving too quickly for you, being too forceful and making you afraid to speak up.  The last thing he wanted was to lose you over something so trivial, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t desperately want to finally lay with you.  He had kept it to himself that he has never had sex, though to most in his life that was obvious as he often drowned himself in his work and duties as a pirate captain without leaving much room for random hook-ups.  Until now, where he desperately wanted it.
You on the other hand, were anxiety ridden over the thought that Law would, in fact, leave you over something so trivial.  You kicked yourself each time you chickened out of an act, leaving your flustered boyfriend alone and frustrated.  The only thing holding you back was your lack of real experience beyond removing the clothes, and the uncertainty and unknown territory that came with made you jitter with nerves.  You would try to hype yourself up in the mirror in the crew washroom, lightly slapping your cheeks and pouting your lips and mouthing encouraging nonsense to yourself, only to see Law and end up only sleeping with him, and not actually sleeping with him.
You were getting tired of your own impatience, and Law was getting tired of being anxious.
---
You woke up in the late morning to a beam of sunlight from the porthole in the crew bunkhouse tinting the inside of your eyelids dark red.  With a grumble, still fairly tired from your night watch shift, you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.  On a typical day, the cloudless blue sky and warm weather of a spring island supply docking would be the perfect thing to lift your mood, but in the midst of your sexual frustrations, there was nothing to be content about.  You proceeded through your day as usual, assisting with upkeep of the submarine and helping the engineers with a few maintenance jobs that had been discovered after your latest underwater excursion.  It was this time spent alone with Ikkaku, both of you dirtied with sour oil as you dismantled one of the primary engines, that you couldn’t hold it in anymore.  You needed advice, desperately.
“Ikkaku, mind if I ask you something?” you began, casually, biting down your nerves.
“Of course, what’s goin’ on?” she replied.  
The two of you had formed a very close sisterly bond since you joined the crew, Ikkaku delighting in no longer being the only woman aboard a submarine crawling with men.  You were able to talk about anything with each other without shame or embarrassment.  And yet, the flustered feeling that tingled in your cheeks as you processed how to ask your question alerted your curly-haired crew mate to your desperation almost immediately.
Ikkaku leaned over in her dirty boiler suit, bumping her shoulder with yours.  “Relationship trouble?”
“Yeah,” you grumbled, hand gripping a torque wrench and slowly tightening a lug nut on the engine in front of you.  “It’s really embarrassing to ask, but…” your voice trailed off, tongue tying as you fought tooth and nail with your own vocabulary for how to voice your concern.  “How do you know when you want to have sex?”
The look Ikkaku gave you didn’t help your feelings of inadequacy, but she was clearly trying to maintain a neutral expression.  “Can I ask what you mean by that?  Did something happen?”
“Any time Law and I try to… you know…” your wrench slipped out of its hold on the nut, and you grumbled.  What an ironically fitting allegory.  “We just end up chickening out at the last minute.  I feel like there’s something wrong with me and I’m scared that he’s going to get fed up.”
Ikkaku nodded, focused on your words as well as her own work.  “So you’re a virgin?”
You huffed.  “Yes.  Unfortunately.”
Ikkaku chuckled, but tossed you a sympathetic glance.  “Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed about, seriously.  We’re all busy pirates, we’ve all come from crazy lives, no one is expected to have sex at a certain time.  There’s no sense in rushing something like that.”
You smiled at her words of reassurance, but that nagging anxiety still clawed to the forefront of your brain.  “But even when we do have time, why do I always end up chickening out?  And why does he?  I feel like he’s disgusted with me.”
“That can’t be it.  He looks at you like you’re the most perfect thing to walk on this planet, and everyone can see it.”
Blood rushed to your face at the revelation of Law’s longing glances apparently being public knowledge amongst the Heart Pirates.
“Clearly you really want to take that next step with him, but I think the anticipation of it being some grand life-changing event might be scaring you off from the moment.”  Ikkaku spoke freely, and her words did make sense.  She continued.  “I know there’s a big expectation of having sex as soon as possible, but that’s just not the reality most of the time.  If sex is something that you feel that you need, and that feeling is mutual, then the moment will come naturally with time.  And if it turns out that you realize it’s an attraction that you don’t feel, then that’s fine too!”  The brunette adjusted her seat on the floor, crossing her legs and grabbing a dirty rag off to the side to wipe her muddied hands on.  “The anxiety of the expectation is scaring you, basically.”
Your eyes were clearly widened at the revelation, as a hearty laugh left Ikkaku’s lungs at, what you assumed was, the dumbfounded expression on your face.  Your shoulders hunched and you stared forward, all of your emotions suddenly making a lot more sense.  All you could successfully mutter in response was a quiet, “Huh.”
“Did I get it right?” she inquired, leaning over to you and laying her head on your shoulder, a bright smile on her lips.  
You laughed at her gesture, leaning back into her.  “I think you did, actually… Do you think it’s the same thing for him?”
Ikkaku nodded affirmatively without hesitation.  “Oh, absolutely.  This crew is full of horny dudes stuck on a submarine together, you hear the way some of them talk.  Between you and me, I know Law’s never had sex either, and the things he hears from his own crew about ‘men needing to have sex as soon as possible’ and the like,” she gestured her statement with air quotes, “It messes with his head and makes him all anxious.  He clearly wants to do anything to make you happy, and I bet his own anxiety is inhibiting him from taking the next step.”
Something clicked in your mind once more at that moment.  You knew Law had performance anxiety in battle, you had not only seen it once or twice, but had heard plenty of stories from his crew about his inability to maintain self control when around certain people.  The thought of him having performance anxiety in the bedroom, with you, made your heart ache.  You zoned back in, locking your eyes with Ikkaku who was gazing at your face to examine your expression.
She tapped her oily finger on the forehead, leaving a slight smudge.  “I’m probably right!”
You laughed, taking the clean heel of your palm and pressing it to her forehead to wipe the smudge off of her skin.  She yelped in response, laughing along with you.  “Thank you Ikkaku, really.”
“Of course, that’s what I’m here for!”
The two of you continued your work with light conversation bouncing back and forth, and as you packed up your tools to head to the galley for dinner, Ikkaku tapped your thigh when you stood.
She gazed up at you, brown eyes twinkling mischievously.  “Get that dick, sister.”
“Shut up!” you bantered back, hiding your flustered face from view as your friend boldly laughed.
You began the fairly long trek from the engine room to the galley, which was two floors above you and on the complete other end of the submarine.  You stashed your tool box in a nearby maintenance closet before continuing your walk, rubbing your oil-stained hands on your jumpsuit.  It was almost laundry day, anyway.  As you rounded the corner into the confined space where one of the many ladders was kept, you bumped into the very man who set your heart racing.
Law was clearly caught off guard by your sudden appearance as well, having just climbed down the ladder and was turning around as you appeared.  Red instantly tinted his cheeks, but he paired it with a very faint smile at your presence.  “I was just about to get you for dinner, I didn’t want you to get too lost in your work.”
“Get me?” you asked, smiling.  “How thoughtful!  I just finished up, actually.”
“That’s good,” he responded, voice quiet.  You stepped further into the ladder well, making an attempt to reach your hand out toward a metal rung before Law’s wrist stopped you.  You gazed at him.
“Can we talk after dinner?  In my quarters?”  Before you had a chance to grow anxious over the ambiguousness of his words, the raven-haired man leaned down to press a warm kiss to your jaw.  “I’m not breaking up with you, I promise.”
You laughed, worry immediately seeping out of you.  “Thank goodness,” you sighed in relief.  “Of course.”
It was only then that Law gestured for you to climb the ladder, following close behind you.  You yelped when he poked a lanky finger into the plush of your ass cheek through your boiler suit, and you playfully batted his hand away.  Despite the (assumed) shared anxiety of your escapades behind closed doors, you were relieved and thankful that your relationship hadn’t soured in any way.  Law was truly too good for you.
The walk to the galley and dinner with a few of the crew members was filled with idle chit chat about your days, but you couldn’t miss the way Law’s knee was constantly bouncing with urgency.  He finished his meal first, making his way toward his quarters.  You waited a few moments to follow him, not wanting to draw suspicion from your crewmates.  Everyone knew you were in a dedicated relationship with their captain, but you liked to avoid any awkward comments when you could.  You made your way to Law’s room quicker than you thought you would, floating on your feet with nervous anticipation.
Law, meanwhile, was so anxious his hands were shaking in his bespeckled pockets.  He was unsure whether or not to tell you that he had a very emasculating conversation with Shachi and Penguin earlier in the day about what they referred to as his, “Intense performance anxiety.”  He didn’t appreciate that his feelings had a dedicated term, but he also couldn’t deny that their entire conversation made a whole lot of sense.  Despite his two best friends’ track record of being fairly immature about contact with women, they were surprisingly helpful in getting him to unpack why he would shut down any time he gazed at you without your clothes on.  While it made him feel like a pervert, Penguin was quick to shut down this feeling and chalked it up to, once again, Law’s built-in self-deprecation.
“It’s not your fault that you have performance anxiety, you just gotta talk it out!” Penguin had said, surprisingly emotionally intelligent.
Law made a mental note to sincerely thank the two of them at some later date.
You were quick to catch up to the taller man, rounding the corner just as he opened the door to his quarters.  He grinned nervously as he held the door open for you, watching as you scampered inside.  He closed the door behind him, subtly locking it.  You kicked off your work boots and shrugged off your dirty boiler suit, tucking it safely away in the corner of his room so none of his belongings would get soiled by the oil that still remained on your clothes, before approaching his bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress.  Law sat next to you, gazing at his hands, tattooed thumbs anxiously fidgeting.
“Take your time,” you said quietly, leaning over to nudge him.
“Thanks,” he replied in a hushed tone, the ghost of a smile fleeting over his face.
You patiently sat next to him, gazing at your own hands before he finally spoke up.
“So, I learned something today,” he began.
You picked your head up.  “Go on…”
“Penguin said I have ‘performance anxiety.’”  He used two fingers to gesture air quotes.
You tried to calm your nerves.  Ikkaku’s voice in the back of your head was right on the money.  He was just as nervous about the potential of disappointment as you were.
“I learned something today, too,” you added.
Law turned his head to face you.
“Ikkaku told me that I’m ‘scared of disappointing you.’”  You gestured your own air quotes, a melancholic smile on your face.
Your eye contact with Law lasted for a few brief moments before you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.  Law couldn’t help but follow suit, his own silent chuckle making his shoulders bounce as he hid his small grin behind his fist.
“Guess we’re both all messed up,” he sighed, studying your expression.
You hummed.  “I really did realize that today, though.  I never wanted to keep chickening out of being closer to you…” you took a deep breath before continuing.  “I’ve just never had sex before, and I think I really was inherently scared that I would disappoint you, or not be good enough.”
Law nodded, bowing his head and lowering his hand to dance his fingers over your own.  “Yeah… me too.”
A silence that was slightly less awkward now permeated the space, and you shuffled closer to your boyfriend.  He embraced the warmth that radiated from your body, finding solace in the way you sent electric chills up his spine.
“I’m glad it’s mutual.  I know that sounds bad, but it makes me feel less… inadequate?” you added.
“You’ve never been inadequate,” Law replied.  He was about to add that he was the inadequate one, but Shachi’s stern voice bounced around Law’s skull that said ‘BE CONFIDENT IN YOURSELF.’  Law knew you loved him for everything he was, so who was he to tear himself down like that when you only saw his flaws as the things that made him so beautiful?  He wanted to finally make you understand that as well.
“Thank you, Law.”  You dipped your head into his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.  “You’ve been so patient with me.”
“Likewise,” he whispered, hand above yours moving to lace your fingers together.  His heart was beating madly in his ribcage.  If one were to tell him earlier that day that he’d be metaphorically pouring his heart out for you later that evening, he would’ve scoffed in response, and yet here he was.  As foreign as the feeling of being vulnerable still was for him, he was finding it easier and easier to open himself for you, expose everything inside him for you to consume.  A year ago, or even some months ago, he would shut down that notion with a firm scowl and reinforce the concrete walls around his soul, but you would only break through them with something stronger.  And he loved that about you.  He loved you so deeply, more intimately than any other love he had ever felt.
He stiffened slightly when you moved your head out of the crook of his shoulder, your hairs dancing along the sensitive skin of his neck.  You picked your head up, and planted a deep kiss on his lips.  He watched through half-lidded eyes as your own fluttered closed, releasing your hand from his grasp in order to lace your arms around his neck.  You were pushing into him so deeply that he felt as though you were trying to fuse yourself to him.  Who was he to say no to such a request?
His hands found purchase on your waist, squeezing the flesh of your belly through your shirt.  A sound, something between a giggle and a moan, left your mouth, and you pulled away from the kiss with an embarrassed smile.
“That tickled,” was all you said.
With your arms still draped around his shoulders and neck, you let gravity pull you down onto his bed, Law following you willingly, supporting himself above you with his forearms next to your head as he captured your lips in a kiss that took your breath away.  The feeling of his lips, slightly chapped yet scorching like a flame, and the faint taste of coffee that always lingered on his tongue was already addicting, but even more so when he parted his teeth and captured your bottom lip in a gentle, teasing graze before diving in for more.
Law’s heartbeat tripled when he felt you smile against his mouth, a grin so delightfully beautiful that he wished he could kiss you for the rest of his life.
(Who was stopping him from fulfilling that wish?)
Running out of oxygen, which he knew he desperately needed in his current state of pre-arousal, Law pulled away from your lips and chuckled warmly at the whine you released from your lungs.  His golden eyes analyzed every detail of your face, your eyes half open, gazing up at him as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered to you.  The way your cheeks were warm with your flush, radiating to his own skin, and the way your lips were kiss-swollen and pouting for more.
“God…” Law groaned.  “I need you so bad.”  In any normal circumstance, he would be humiliated at himself over his brazen statement and attitude.  This was not a normal circumstance, and he was finally ready to relinquish that notion.
“Then take me, Law,” you responded, voice so light and airy that it was almost a whisper.  “Finally take me, please.”
Once again, however, Law felt himself falter.  “Really?”
Instead of growing frustrated, which his pent up anxiety told him you would, you huffed out a bright laugh.  “Yes, Law, yes!  You just kissed my brains out, we can’t play chicken again.”  You finished your statement by lifting one of your legs, slotting it in between Law’s thighs and brushing over the swollen spot at the front of his jeans.  The man above you sucked in a breath.
“Okay… okay we’re doing this.”
“We are.”
“And you’re really okay with it.”
With a light-hearted groan, you pulled the man back down into another fiery kiss, using the distraction to trail your hands from his waist to his chest, pulling his shirt up with you.  He adjusted himself so he could support his weight on his knees as he caressed your own skin through your shirt, his calloused hands forgoing their inked marks as they ran soothing touches across your abdomen, following your lead by pulling your shirt up and over your head.  You took advantage of sitting up yourself to loop your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra, lazily throwing it off the bed to join your two discarded shirts on the floor.  Your bold hands resumed their touches, leaving goosebumps over Law’s sun-kissed skin in their wake.  He kissed you with the rhythm of your fingers tracing the tattoo on his chest, gentle, tender caresses that had his heart, and the fluttering in his stomach, on overdrive.  If he was more coherent, he would be worried about his heart giving out.  In that same instant he shoved the feeling out of his head.  There was no need to be rational anymore, not when you lay before him with your upper half completely exposed to the cold air of his bedroom.
Law didn’t even realize that he was in the process of removing your shorts until you lifted your hips and allowed him to pull them down to your knees, and then fully off of your legs.  You gently pushed on his pecs to make him lean back and allow you to sit up, hands undoing the metal clasp of his belt and pulling it through the loops of his jeans.  It clattered to the floor, but you paid no mind as you were eagerly undoing his button and zipper.
Suddenly, your hands stopped yet again.  You nervously gazed up at him.
He gazed back down at you.
You shook your head, as if trying to rid yourself of anxious thoughts that floated around you like angry insects.  “Sorry, I’m still kind of nervous,” you muttered.
“It’s okay, I am too.”  Law’s hands ran down your arms before floating to your waist, squeezing your now-bare flesh once again.  “You’re perfect.  I love you.”
“Even if I haven’t shaved my legs in a week?” you asked.  Your tone was light, but Law could still pick up on the notes of insecurity that echoed through the air around you.
“You think I care about that?” he asked, voice tender.  He planted a chaste kiss to your lips once more, before pulling his body downward, leaving sugar-sweet kisses across your neck, breasts, stomach, and the waistband of your panties.  His hands caressed your thighs as he sat up once more, trying to ignore the red-hot pressure in his groin, not helped by his open button and fly.  “You’re so fucking beautiful.  Look me in the eye and tell me that you think I care about your body hair.  No one could’ve guessed that we’d be doing this right now, it’s not like you could’ve anticipated it.”  He squeezed the plump flesh on your thighs playfully to punctuate his words.
You laughed once again, your voice sweeter than the freshest honey, carrying colors Law had never seen before.  “You’re right, I know…”  You averted your eyes, smiling so brightly that your lower lids were creasing.  “Thank you, Law…”
A short-lived silence floated between your two bodies, before you pushed yourself up by your elbows yet again and continued with your initial quest of undoing his tight jeans and getting them off his body as quickly as humanly possible.  He eagerly helped you, shimmying back and forth while you pulled his pants down before they were finally off and thrown to the side on the floor.  Your angle, leaning back on your elbows and gazing at Law’s form above you, was more heavenly than the finest artwork.  You could tell the man started to grow anxious as your eyes unpacked his body from head to toe, but how couldn’t you?  
“You’re beautiful too, Law, so fucking gorgeous.”  You used one hand to pull his shoulder down, planting light kisses on the corners of his mouth.  “The most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.”
“Oh please,” he huffed, kissing you back where he could.  One of his hands supported him on the mattress, while the other supported him by your waist.
“I mean it, you’re ethereal,” you moaned.  As much as you wanted to make him sit and listen to you ramble about how much you adored his defined muscles and lean physique, you didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable than you knew he was already dealing with.  You had come this far, you didn’t want to ruin it.
More intense, sloppy kisses ensued, hands trailing up and down bodies, before Law accidentally lowered himself on you.  He jolted at the feeling of his erection brushing against your pelvic area, suddenly reminding him of what exactly the goal here was.  He pulled away from you, holding eye contact.
“Are you really sure you want this?” he asked, voice low and cautious, as if he was trying not to startle an animal.
“More than anything, Law.  Do you?”
He paused for longer than he cared to admit, his mind running wild.  He loved you so intensely, so deeply, that he wished he could become one with you on an atomic level.  He wanted to spend every moment with you for the rest of his life, regardless of how long it was.  He wanted to accompany you through all of your achievements and dreams, just like he hoped you would do for him.  He wanted a permanent home in your brain, in your heart, in your soul, where you wouldn’t let him leave, where you would hold him so tightly in your warm embrace for the rest of time.
He snapped out of his zone when your hand caressed his scruffy cheek.  “Law?”
“Yes,” he responded quickly.  “Yes, god, yes, I want this.  I want you.”
Another kiss followed, before breaking apart once more.
“Don’t laugh at me,” you started.  “How exactly do we begin?”
Despite your wishes, Law couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled from his lungs.  “Shit, we’re hopeless.”  You laughed along with him, making more anxiety dissipate from his chest like a steam rising from a lagoon on a warm summer morning..
It wasn’t like either of you were strangers to how human sex worked, just like how neither of you were strangers to the orgasm, it was more so the act of actually beginning it, and doing it together.  It wasn’t as simple as slipping it in, thrusting a few times, and cumming.  There was much, much more to it.  You two just needed to figure out how to get there.
You shivered under the sensation of Law’s fingertips teasing the waistband of your panties before pulling them down slightly, waiting for your indication that you were ready to be completely and totally bare in front of him.  He bit down his elation as you lifted your hips, allowing the thin fabric to lower from your ass and down your thighs as Law removed them from your body, so gentle with the fabric, treating it as if it was sacred.  The notion left you feeling scorched, heart beating with untapped urgency.  The feeling of the cold air of the bedroom hitting your wet folds left you rubbing your thighs together, lip quivering.  You reached a hand forward yourself, tugging at Law’s own waistband and gazing at him through your eyelids, a silent plea to reveal himself to you as well.
After a deep, shuddering breath, the man slipped his boxers down his legs, throwing them onto the pile of your discarded clothing.  When he looked back at you, he was taken aback by the sight of your wide eyes, pupils dilated as you examined his cock.  He couldn’t help but smirk.  He didn’t think he was anything to write home about, seeing himself as average all around, but he just barely caught the way you sucked your lower lip in with your teeth, and it filled him with a sense of excitement, pride, and longing that he thought he’d never experience, let alone enjoy.
“Hey, eyes up here, darling,” he urged with a lighthearted chuckle.  
Flustered, your eyes darted up to his face, and you grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry.”
He pressed a small kiss to the apex of your nose.  “Don’t worry about it.”
Unlike your previous pauses, each kiss and caress from Law and the way his sultry words kept you anticipating made the mood stay relatively consistent throughout.  You felt confident, cherished, and adored by the man above you, and you just hoped he knew how much you wanted to worship him for the rest of your days.
Running a tattooed hand along your outer thigh before gracing over the junction of your hip and dipping his fingers in between your plush limbs easing them open for him, he eyed your expression and stated, “Tell me where you like to be touched.”
You held yourself up on one elbow, splitting your legs more for Law to get comfortable in between them as you allowed your free hand to roam to your pussy, using two fingers to part your lips.  Law watched analytically as your pointer and middle fingers rubbed the hood of your clit at the very top, and he listened intently to the way your breath hitched ever so slightly at the cotton-soft pleasure that emanated from your own fingertips.
“Right here,” you breathed.
Law’s own fingers were quick to replace your own.  He caressed the tiny spot, analyzing every twitch of your muscles or change in your breathing pattern.  His fingers dipped lower, watching your expression for any sign of discomfort as he ran his fingers along your opening, stifling a grin at how wet you had gotten from long minutes of intense making out and awkward repeated confirmations of consent.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.
The way your natural lubrication coated his fingers was alluring, and he used the fluid to rub and press against your clit once more, reveling in the way you bit down moans each time he changed up his pattern of movement.  He watched, intoxicated on the moment, as your hands grabbed at your own breasts, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut.  While continuing his motions on your clit, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss right above your left breast.  When your hand moved, he gently bit down on your soft skin, basking in the whine that left your tense throat.  He licked the faint red mark his teeth left behind, knowing it wouldn’t even bruise.  Maybe some other day he could really sink his teeth into you, but for now he wanted to hold back and enjoy your first time.
Your breathing was growing more labored as his fingers danced expertly over your soaked clit, when you shot your hand forward and gripped his wrist in a silent plea to stop.
“Are you alright?” he asked, eyebrows immediately wrinkling in concern.
“I’m fine, I just…” your trembling hand rubbed his forearm.  “I want you inside me.  Like… right now.  Please.”
Law hummed.  He pulled his hand away from your cunt, leaving your now saturated folds exposed to a new level of chill.  You watched through half-lidded eyes as your boyfriend grabbed his one pillow from beside the metal bed frame.  He gently tapped your hip, wordlessly encouraging you to lift yourself enough for him to slide the pillow under you.
“This will support your back, hopefully,” he mentioned quietly.  “And hopefully reduce some initial discomfort.”
You smirked.  “Did you do some research?”
Law scoffed, flustered, averting his intense golden eyes.  “No, I just… assumed.”
You laughed, shimmying against the pillow and getting yourself comfortable.  “Trafalgar Law, if you don’t stop acting so cute we’re not going to get anywhere.”
The man’s grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his lips at your statement.  “You really okay with this?”
You nodded affirmatively.  “Yes.”
Law inhaled a deep breath, reaching down to take a gentle hold of his own cock that, remarkably, stayed completely hard and eager this entire time.  (He was relieved there was nothing wrong with him.)  He gave himself a few strokes with his fist, forcing down a groan at the sensation as you watched him with ravenous eyes that devoured his every movement.  You shivered as his fingers ran up and down your cunt yet again, before rubbing your slick on his cock with a tiny, breathy moan.  Lord, you needed him badly.
The raven-haired man adjusted his position between your legs and tested the waters by running the head of his dick through your wet folds.  The feeling was already something you were addicted to.
“I’m going to ask one last time,” he said, voice low and apprehensive.  “Are you okay with this?”
For the final time, your eyes fluttered open, caressing a hand over his cheek.  “Yes.”  Finally.
Law used two fingers to pull apart your folds, exposing the entrance to your vagina that seemed to wait so patiently just for him.  He pressed the head of his cock into you, inhaling a shaky breath at the way your anatomy seemed to suck him in.  He stopped when he heard you groan slightly under him.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, it just hurts a little bit.”
He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth.  “That’s normal, you’ve never done this before.”
You nodded, finding endless comfort in his words and touches.
Little by little, Law eased himself into you, having you adjust your hips every now and then to get used to not only the feeling of having something inside of you so tightly, but also to find the most comfortable position for you.  You did find great relief in the way the pillow below your hips allowed subtle leverage, making his entrance much easier on the both of you.  Law twirled his fingers with your own, capturing your lips in an addictive, sultry kiss as he pushed the rest of his way into you.  He groaned into your mouth, the feeling of his cock leaving your walls molding around him a sensation so foreign yet so delicious.  Similarly, your legs quivered at the red hot feeling of Law’s cock fully enveloped within your warmth, each way you moved reminding you that he was in you, connected to you in the deepest, most intimate way possible.  The feeling of being stretched and intruded upon slowly went away, helped in part by Law’s constant kisses and caresses across your body, keeping you both plenty aroused and waiting.
You wiggled your hips against his delighting in the groan that left his clenched jaw.  
“That feels too good,” he sighed into your neck.
“You can move,” you urged, finally getting used to the fulfilling sensation.
Law’s hand squeezed your’s, and you squeezed back.  Supporting himself with his other hand on your hip, he rocked his hips slightly, testing the waters of your body’s reactions to each movement.  His entire body felt on fire.  He was sure that water would evaporate off of his skin at the slightest contact.  He clenched his jaw, uttering a wavering groan at the warm wetness that surrounded his cock with each movement, the sounds emanating from your joined bodies equal parts alluring and humbling.
He quickly found a rhythm that seemed to work for the two of you, angling his hips upward as best he could to attempt to focus his thrusts on the spot at the roof of your vagina right below your pelvic bone.  (Okay, maybe he had done more than a little research.)  Your eyes were clenched shut, mouth slightly open as you exhaled shallowly.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Good… great,” you uttered back, breathless.  “You feel really good… you feel amazing, Law.”
Law’s heart once again skipped a few beats at the praise.  To know he was bringing you pleasure, making sure you were getting as much out of this as he was, was exactly what he needed to hear.
He disconnected your hands, leaving both of your palms face up and empty next to your head.  His free hand now traveled back down in between your legs, rubbing three fingers against your neglected clit.  The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, back arching off the bed.  It was a pressure deep within your abdomen that flared like a hot coal, partnered with zaps and zings of electric shocks as sweet as sugar, the two sensitive areas of your anatomy fusing together with Law’s touch and movements to form a combination that had you moaning without restraint.  You couldn’t help yourself.
“Oh fuck, Law, shit,” you groaned, neck craning back.  
Law took advantage of your exposed skin by peppering sweet kisses along your jugular and Adam’s apple, before sitting his lips in the soft flesh right above your collarbone and biting down with more force than before.  You whined at the feeling, shivering as his tongue once again licked the deeper marks, leaving your skin wet and cold, and at the same time blazing hot.  The groans he was releasing so close to your ear only spurred your passion more, your own hands traveling to his shoulders and holding him close, fingers gripping his skin as best you could as his thrusts deepened in tandem with the pace of his fingers on your clit.
Law’s entire lower body felt on fire, electric, a magenta pressure building deep within his abdomen and radiating outward.  He felt his dick twitch inside you and he bit down a moan, instead relishing in the way you let go one of your own at the feeling of his dick rubbing against your G-spot with every other snap of his hips.  You lifted your knees up, feeling him even deeper than before, and you gasped his name.
“Shit, Law,” your legs quivered next to his body.  “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
Your body involuntarily met him thrust for thrust, the pressure from your movements added to Law’s ministrations over your clit leaving you panting and writhing beneath him.  You were a sight to behold for Law’s sore eyes.  He could drink you for the rest of eternity and never grow tired of your taste.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the pace of his hips increasing as he felt the familiar, yet foreign, sensation of his impending orgasm.  This was nothing like using his hand, it was so much better, worlds better.  He didn’t think he’d ever be able to masterbate on his own again, knowing nothing could surpass the way your pussy clenched around his dick like you were sculpted for each other and only each other.
“Ah… ah, fuck, Law,” you moaned, voice cracking as your back arched. The white hot pleasure from your pussy reverberated throughout your entire body, leaving your skin both icy and on fire as colors flashed behind your eyelids.  Your fingers gripped Law’s shoulders harder, surely leaving marks in his skin.
Your orgasm caught you completely off guard, body snapping as waves of pink and purple flashed behind your closed eyelids as your pelvis shook and trembled against Law’s wavering thrusts.  Your moans were unrestrained now, freely calling into the stifling air around your bodies, embracing each millisecond of the addictive, powerful sensation that danced across your waist, your womb, your legs.  Your orgasm was the final push Law needed before he frantically pulled out of your sopping pussy and released onto your lower stomach, his hips gyrating as he fisted his cock with shuddering breaths and deep groans.  His abs flexed continuously as his muscles contracted from the sheer force of his own release.
The two of you remained in the same positions you finished in for what felt like hours, desperately catching your breath.  Your legs continued to shake as you relaxed your muscles and let your weary limbs finally fall back onto the mattress.  You opened your eyes, taking in the ethereal view of Law’s trembling body over your own, his head tilted back, black hair tousled out of place.  His fist remained around his cock, unmoving, still too shocked to move.  Your own shaky hand reached for him, ghosting your fingers along his abdominal muscles and breaking him out of his orgasmic trance to look at you with glazed, golden eyes.
His expression, fucked out and boundlessly flustered, made you laugh.  You started laughing uncontrollably, shoulders shaking as you tried to restrain yourself, choosing instead to pull him down with you, burying your gleeful smile and airy laughs into his neck instead.  Law cringed slightly at the feeling of his own release rubbing between your two stomachs, but the way you embraced him in your exposed glory, completely vulnerable to him, made him instantly forget about the temporary discomfort.  He used his less dirty hand to cup your cheek, tilting your head to press a smattering of kisses along your face before resting on your smiling lips, loving the feeling of joyful laughs still leaving your spent body.
“I’m sorry I’m laughing again,” you said quietly.  “That was incredible.”
Law couldn’t blame you for your reaction in the slightest.  After weeks of pent up anxiety, miscommunication and worry, the two of you had finally experienced what you had been longing for so deeply, so carnally.  Law wanted to make sure you could feel the same joy, the same euphoria, each time you were with him in every moment you spent together.  Your laugh was freeing.  Your unrestrained giggles the reminder that he so desperately needed.
There was nothing wrong with him.  There was nothing wrong with you.
The moment comes naturally.  And Law promised himself right then and there, as you clutched onto his body above you like you would disappear without him, that he would do anything to keep that smile on your face, the anxiety out of your mind, and his heart in your hands.
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BONUS
You would describe Law like a scallop.  A hard outer shell that refuses to open up, bumbling blindly through the water away from anything he deems as a threat.  His grace and elegance as a pirate captain came with countless years of adjusting to normal human interaction, which left him in an odd stance between an awkward, struggling kid, and a maladaptive, anxious adult.  But when the ridged shell was finally cracked open, exposing the soft, fragile insides, was when the facets of his personality would radiate forth.  He was dynamic, emotional, impulsive, selfish, fearful, confident, boundlessly strong and yet weaker than a detached leaf all at the same time.
And you loved that about him.  Your love for the stone-cold pirate captain ran deeper than the trenches of the ocean you sailed above, was warmer than the sun that beat down on the outer deck when you surfaced, and was more tender than the finest cuisine.
Your new favorite thing about Law, to add to the ever growing list that you kept within the recesses of your mind, was the fact that he was still just as apprehensive around you as he had been when you first started dating.  A few nights ago, he came all over your stomach as you lay beneath him a shivering, trembling mess, but when you gently knocked on his office door to wish him a good morning, he looked at you with eyes as wide as saucers, mouth curled in a nervous, boyish grin, kissing you like it was his first ever.  Like a scallop, he would open and close sporadically, spoiling you with his delectable emotions behind the safety of closed doors, and impressing you with his harsh command of his crew on the outside.
He laughed at you when you told him your analogy.
“A scallop?  I’m a scallop to you?” he asked, chuckling as he scribbled down notes in a wrinkled, coffee-stained notebook.  His entire back and neck were hunched over the metal counter in his medical ward, taking inventory of the medicines he kept stocked behind the locked cabinets.
You were bustling around the room behind him, diligently cleaning dust, sand, and salt residue out of sterile corners and shelves.  “Yes!  You’re hard on the outside and soft on the inside, what’s not to get?”
“Scallops move like bumbling idiots.  I would appreciate something more like a crab.  Or maybe even a lobster.”  When you turned your head to face him, he was already gazing at you, his left hand making a pincer motion similar to a crab’s claw.  
You snorted.  “Just for that, you’re going to be a slug now.  No more shells for you.”
“You’re just gonna leave me out in the open like that?  Not even a skeleton?”
“Fine, you can be a squid.”  You wrung your damp washcloth into the metal bucket situated on the floor by your feet, draping it over the side to free your hands and wipe them dry on your boiler suit.
The laugh that bubbled out of Law made your heart flutter in your chest.  You never would have guessed that your casual, stupid banter while doing mindless chores would be something you’d enjoy so much, but you had come to realize that you enjoyed every aspect of life a whole lot more when it was spent with Law.  In the days that followed your successful first shared sexual encounter, especially.  Since then, you have started to feel so much more confident in yourself, in your looks, your abilities, and your feelings.  You felt like you understood your boyfriend on an even deeper level now, cherishing the way he seemed to unfold himself in front of you, knowing that there was almost nothing left to hide from you anymore.  You had seen each other at your most vulnerable, and the outcome was more beautiful than the most glorious sunset.
Law’s voice snapped you back to reality.  “I think you’d be a Mola Mola.”
You threw your wrung-out towel across the room, giggling as it smacked his hunched back in between his shoulder blades.  It made a squelching sound as it plopped to the floor behind him.  He whipped around to face you, a mischievous grin on his face.
“Is the sunfish mad at me?”
“To think you view me so low!  I’m heartbroken!”  You feigned great offense, placing the back of your hand over your forehead and swaying back and forth.  “My life is ruined now, my beloved thinks I’m a sunfish!”
Law bent down to grab the towel you had thrown at him before balling it in his fist and lobbing it back at you, smirking as it landed on your chest and stayed there.  Before you had the chance to chuck it back at him, the door to the medical bay creaked as it was pulled open.  You felt your heart pang as Law’s expression immediately switched from bright and gleeful to his usual stoic, grouchy demeanor.  He still hid from even his crew, only showing his true colors very, very sparingly.  You both looked towards the door as Uni popped his head in.  
“Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you know dinner’s ready.  Jean Bart cooked tonight.”  The masked man quickly stepped back out into the hallway, letting the heavy steel door close on its own.
Your eyes glanced back toward Law as his expression softened only slightly.  You bent down to place the washcloth over the rim of your cleaning bucket before finally walking over to your boyfriend and nudging his arm.
“Sorry,” you simply murmured.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Your face changed so quickly, like you didn’t want him to see you smiling.”
Law hummed, a sound that stayed low in his throat.  He turned back toward the counter, picking up his pen once more and writing a few extra bullets in his notebook.  You stood patiently, lips sealed as you waited for his next movement or word.
“Don’t ever apologize for making me smile,” he said, tone deep and volume minimal.
Your stomach did backflips in your abdomen.
Law’s pen made a clicking sound as he placed it on the counter, lifting his notebook to shut the cover and store it in a specific labeled drawer.  He finally turned back to gaze at you, face slowly softening more and more.  He approached you, running an inked hand across your cheek and down to your neck before placing a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips.
“I still don’t know how to share with my crew what I share with you.”
You knew what he meant.  His emotions, his insecurities, all the vulnerabilities that he revealed to you behind closed doors in the form of nervous kisses and wavering whispers were sides of himself that he would never be caught showing his crew.  He needed to keep the facade of the strong captain they needed him to be, unmoving when the waves violently rocked his ship and unwavering when his skin would be sliced by an enemy’s sword.  Law’s biggest issue remained that he couldn’t even say the word ‘emotion’ without feeling like less of a man.  You just hoped that, one day, he’d be able to say it.
You smiled.  “I know, it’s hard for you.  But that’s alright.”
Law would wonder until his final breath how he was lucky enough to find himself with a person as understanding and sympathetic as you were.  It wasn’t fair to you that he kept himself closed off until he was forced to open, how you poured your heart out to him at every waking moment while he struggled to share his feelings with you.  You told him ‘I love you’ many times even before your first time sleeping together, and he was yet to say it back.  The words felt like molten iron on his tongue.
But you stayed by his side regardless.  Your love never wavered.  You didn’t care how long it would take him to say those three words to you as long as you were able to keep him with you, as long as you were able to kiss him and thread his fingers through yours and feel his body pressed against yours under the warm sheets in his bed.  You didn’t care as long as he was there.
Law sucked in a deep inhale through his nostrils as his golden eyes examined your expression.  You simply gazed back at him, waiting for any response.
“You’re wonderful,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”  You grabbed his hand in yours pulling him towards the door.  “Let’s go get food before your crew devours it all!”
He followed you with no protest, gripping your hand in his.  When he squeezed, you squeezed back.  Before you rounded the final corner to enter the galley, Law pressed a kiss to your cheek.
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oscalesoffeeling · 2 years
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wah wah wah..... 🥺......
#sad so sad!!!! ahhhh!!!!#need him. ok. need him...#need him to look after me.... i'm so scared :^(#i miss papa so much..... i just need him ok. i need him here with me.#i wanna stay with him forever!! i need him close to me so much closer to me.....#i really need him to hold n squeeze n kiss me... i need him here with me to hold my hand. i'm so scared without him.#he can be in charge of me n that's fine. it makes me feel safer.#but we cannot truly coexist physically... we feel as though we are together but we know we're not.#it makes me so sad.... we touch each other but we cannot truly physically touch each other.#it sucks bro. this is a tragedy. fuck it all lmao.#i just want to be whole. everything past present and future feels empty without him. existence itself feels futile without him.#i am a shell etc. idk what to say. i wish him and i could be together. we are one and yet we can't become one. smh f in the chat etc#i hate being suicidal because it's so terribly boring. it's a waiting game. and it's scary but in a dreadful dreading way.#i sit here. so painfully full of life that i cannot tap into. and i wait. and#it feels so empty and yet so suffocating. i want it to stop. i really do.#i hate being imaginative and intellectual. because i wish so much but i'm too much of a realist to actually hope. i wish i could forget.#i wish i had enough hope and stupidity to get myself through this but there's no denying how bad in every way everything around me is?#like everything IS horrible and my life DOES suck and it NEVER ends and i just want it all to STOP. and i am alone. i am.#and oh what about the little things? what about them!!! they can only pacify me so long before all the big bad overshadows them.#i'm not in immediate danger of killing myself bc i get to go to my dad's tomorrow but i still hope i die in my sleep.#sorry for being an edgelord but can you blame me? i'm utterly and totally miserable and it can't get much better. it just won't.#/vent#suicide tw#ellie rambles about stuff#he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)#i literally do not care if i could Have It Worse.#because i feel fucking horrible. and i'm sad and#scared and need my papa. ok. fuck you.#agere
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pathsofoak · 2 years
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I've discovered the reason I've written so much comfort recently is because subconsciously I already knew just how fucking intense Minho's next few chapters will be holy fuck
#like I said in the tags of my previous post#Minho's main flaw in this part is his anger which has only gotten more destructive the longer he spent in WCKD#because he's not fighting them so he's bottling it all up#he knows what they'll do to him if he fights too so he really really can't#that makes him the only person that can't find a way to fix what hurts them most because out of everyone#Minho is completely out of control#anger management can't do much in this situation (someone has actually been teaching him) and Minho knows it#and knowing that only makes it all worse#I mean Minho definitely has a temper but the intensity with which he feels anger now is all WCKD's engineering to make it harder#for the group to last as a unit#as a team and as a family#WCKD is actively challenging them to see how long they'll hold out#everyone else's pain inside WCKD can be softened by fixing the biggest problems in themselves#but Minho's problem is 100% WCKD's doin#it's a flaw he WANTS to move past so desperately but as long as he's in WCKD he can't#but he's so terrified of fighting them it has nowhere else to go#everyone else's story in this part is the kind where through their trauma they also learn things about themselves#which is how stories work#but Minho's is just painfully realistic in the way that it's just trauma upon trauma and there is no lesson in it because everything#he needs to learn can only be taught by someone caring and patient enough to teach him out of genuine well. love basically#not romantic love in this context I'm specifically talking (found) family and a proper adult at that#Minho is the only character that genuinely cannot shed any of his defenses at all until he's in the Safe Haven
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tabithatwo · 9 months
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It’s actually so painfully brilliant the way yellowjackets sets up their un-stereotype-able characters. I could (and might) do this for all of them, but because she’s on my mind right now—the show tells us that jackie taylor is the type of girl who has high expectations put on her and WILL be analyzed constantly (from coach, her parents, jeff, shauna (if only by way of shauna’s reflective habits and her personal narrative construction), the team (by way of being captain).
Then they show us so many instances of Jackie being good and kind. Is she perfect? NO, BECAUSE THEN SHE’D BE ANOTHER STEREOTYPE (THE PERFECT DEAD GIRL/WIFE), SILLY! She has enough edge to be believable as a teenage girl.
And what do people do with that edge? They sharpen it and sharpen it and use it to cut out every moment where Jackie is being kind or trying her hardest! Because what do we like?? Feeling confident in our stereotypical assumptions of people! And what did the show do? Give us scenes with blocking that suggests the popular girl/loner best friend stereotype and absolutely turn them on their head, because what’s not very realistic?? The popular girl who is mean to her loser best friend stereotype in media! (Is it impossible in life? NO, nothing is! But it’s not a standard set up. It’s not as common as media makes it out to be.)
What is one of Jackie’s primary fears as a character? Being held to INSANELY high standards and not meeting them! And what do the viewers commonly do to jackie? Why, they hold her to INSANELY high standards and show how she doesn’t meet them, of course!
Jackie cannot slip up, every instance where she falls short is catalogued as a gotcha moment. She was never allowed to fully develop on the screen because we often get her through the filter of shauna.
She gets deeply depressed, that depression is largely ignored in the show (lottie doesn’t pitch in much either, but her brand of being unwell is observed and understood as existing more so than Jackie’s), and then it is often ignored by viewers (“why didn’t she just come inside, she’s stubborn and dumb!” rather than “wow, look at this consistent descent into deep depression and suicidal ideation we’ve seen since episode 3, culminating in Jackie choosing to stay outside, what can we glean from that?”)
Jackie dies and she is literally consumed in totality—her memory is obscured, the hallucination form of her is filtered through Shauna’s psyche, her corpse is a doll, her flesh is digested. And a photo of her at 18 years old is posted at the 25 year reunion, looking perfect, attached to nothing of her life or who she was, used to facilitate a dance between her ex boyfriend and her best friend, who betrayed her in a way that most people would never get over, (but as we’re shown in the death dream Jackie ultimately would).
Allie literally says, “While I know she isn’t here with us, I know that this is what Jackie would have wanted.” She says that! In the show! To punctuate the absurdity of it all! The very relationship that broke Jackie’s heart, crushed her spirit, destroyed her will to live, being touted as something she would’ve wanted to hundreds of people.
And if that doesn’t strike you as a fucking horrifying tragedy, as emblematic of the reduction of women to whatever those around them need them to be, in order to fit their narrative, in order to be useful to them, then baby this show is sailing over your head.
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