before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.
you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"
and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.
it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.
you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.
in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.
the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.
you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.
after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.
the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.
you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.
2K notes
·
View notes
❛ how about a kiss before i go? ❜ from the soft prompts pls? also I SWEAR if you make this angsty I will... wail in the comments but also cry bc I enjoy torturing myself and like pain -🍂
I assume you wanted Portada (Ace x Yara) for this heheh
There are references to the anime (and the Ace light novel) but no actual spoilers.
“So Pops is really sending you to take on Bohemian Knight Doma all by yourself?”
“Yeah!” Ace grinned, flexing an arm. “Pretty great, huh?”
Yara shrugged. “I mean, it’s smarter than sending the fleet if we don’t need to. Doma might be stupid enough to encroach on the Whitebeard Pirates’ territory, but he’s not going to turn down a one-on-one challenge when the alternative is facing an entire armada.”
“That’s true, too.” He laughed. “I know I only got this mission because Pops is testing me, but I feel good.” As if to prove his point, a small burst of fire flared out of his fingertips, flames quickly engulfing his entire hand.
“Well, Fifth Division will be lying in wait should you need backup.”
“Pssshh, backup. I’ll kick his ass before he even--”
“Hey, Ace!”
Ace perked up at the familiar voice, glancing over to where a blue-haired man wearing a masquerade-like mask stepped off the gangplank and onto the deck of the Moby Dick. “Any news?”
“Yes. I’ve got the striker operational again. It should be good to go for your mission.”
“Great! Thanks, Deu!”
Masked Deuce smiled, giving his friend-- and former captain-- a polite bow before striding off.
Ace turned back to Yara, grinning. “See?”
Yara tried not to smile as she shook her head. “I still think that thing is a death trap. If you fall off of it while riding the waves, there won’t be anyone around to haul your ass out of the water. The fact that Deuce designed it and not you is the only thing giving me a shred of hope.”
“Hey!” He pretended to be insulted. “I can build stuff.”
“Your attempt at fixing the starboard anchor tells me otherwise.”
“Well, maybe the anchor was being a jerk.”
Yara finally gave in, her shoulders shaking as she laughed, and Ace felt as if he’d won the lottery. His chest puffed up, pleased.
“So…” She leaned back against the wall. “You’ve got your orders, and your-- I hesitate to call it a ‘ship’... Is there anything else you need?”
“How about a kiss before I go?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Ace’s entire face went beet red. He laughed nervously, waving his hands in the air as Yara’s smile vanished, raising an eyebrow at him instead. “Kidding, kidding!! You don’t have to, um… because we’re not-- I mean… Sorry. Bad joke.”
“Hilarious, Portgas,” she deadpanned.
Ace’s breath hitched as she reached over, placing a finger on the brim of his hat and tugging it down ever so slightly. A shiver ran up his spine, heart drumming erratically in his ribcage. God, she was so close to him, the scent of her favourite vanilla lotion flooding his senses.
A small, bemused smile hinted at the corners of her lips as her hand lowered, and all Ace could think was how badly he wanted to catch it in his own and press kiss after kiss to her knuckles, her palm, her wrist; trailing down her arm until their chests were pressed closely together… letting himself drown in that beautiful gaze of hers as he held her against him, safe and snug…
She picked up the hat’s counterweight from where it hung against his bare chest, smoothing her thumb over the tiny cow skull embedded into the clay disc. “Just… Remember that you’re not invincible, as much as you like to pretend otherwise, Fire Fist.”
“It’s not like you to worry, Hellcat,” he couldn’t help but tease her in return.
Yara let out a soft laugh. “You are going to give me a full head of grey hair by the time I’m forty, you know.”
“And you’ll still be as beautiful as ever. Er, I mean…” Heat rose to his cheeks. “You could pull it off, I’m sure.”
“There you two are, yoi.”
They glanced over as Marco approached them, giving them an amused look. “Yara, I think Vista’s looking for you.”
“Oh. I suppose I should be off, then.” She lightly touched Ace’s arm, making his heart nearly stop. “Good luck, Ace. Even if you don’t think you need it.”
With that, she strode off, heading towards the ship’s main cabins. Ace watched her go, the air around him already feeling colder without her presence.
“You know you’re going to have to tell her someday, yoi,” Marco said, crossing his arms.
“There’s nothing to tell her.”
“Ace…” The First Division Commander’s tone was firm, yet gentle. “You can’t help how you feel.”
“I know, I just…”
“I’m already giving up on Ace, too! I don’t care if he dies or not, I’ll just tell Garp it was an accident. It’s true that the ‘devil’s children have the devil’s luck’, and Ace is the devil’s son!”
He sighed. “She deserves far better than a good-for-nothing guy like me.”
If she knew… There’s no way she could ever…
Marco didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it any further, either. The crew had begun to gather around them, cheering as they wished Ace a speedy victory. He waved back, one foot resting on the ship’s railing as he prepared to leap onto the striker, which was waiting in the water below. As he turned around, however, he caught a flash of violet hair. For a moment, he allowed his gaze to linger on her.
Yara seemed to notice, glancing over to meet his eyes. Her lips eased into a confident smile, giving him a slight nod as if to say, you got this. Butterflies burst into his stomach, his heartbeat quickening, beating out a rhythm so desperate, so desiring, so… unworthy. And yet…
Yet he would love her from afar anyways, even if it was the most he could ever do.
One Piece nakama: @auxiliarydetective @daughter-of-melpomene @xoteajays if you wanna read <3
11 notes
·
View notes