#i have strong feelings about masking-related trauma

[shootingstarpilot]

In Which Obi-Wan Meets Stitch Properly

Happy Friday! Today's been A Day, so to make myself feel better, I wrote a lil scene referenced in Chapter 11 of how to bring him home:

Stupid.

It wasn’t even during a battle. Not on the ground, where the noise is everywhere all the time and where he tucks himself back and away and pulls on ‘81 for a bit, because ‘81 knows not to flinch at loud noises and or tap his fingers and Stitch can keep being a good medic while ‘81 takes the brunt of the noise and the darkness and everything else.

It’s effective. ‘81 had gotten him out of Kamino. ‘81 keeps him and his brothers alive on the battlefield. But being ‘81 is exhausting. So he stops being ‘81 on the ship once he realizes he doesn’t have to be. Because no one tells him that he’s tapping too much or talking too fast or being too stupid, and he can walk up to Helix or Needle and ask for a hug and get one.

(‘81 doesn’t get hugs.)

So he’s not prepared at all when he wanders into the engineering bay just in time for the sharp snap of a backfiring engine to crack his brain open like an egg.

He backpedals instinctively, all thoughts of routine physicals dropped along with his composure on the engineering bay’s floor, and the whole world goes snapshot-blurry. 

Boots skidding across the floor.

A door that won’t open.

His own breathing, too loud.

A door that won’t open.

His own heartbeat, too fast.

A door that won’t open.

Voices approaching–

And then, finally, a door that does.

He flings himself in– glimpses a bucket, a mop, cleaning supplies– yanks the door shut behind him, and tries to fold down onto the floor. If his head’s between his knees, then that’s a few more layers between him and everything that’s too loud. But the engine’s vibrations tear all the way through him and splinter him all apart into a hundred thousand million tiny pieces–

He tries to back into a corner but the vibrations are in the walls too and hit right behind his shoulder blades–

He skitters into the middle of the room but the noise sneaks in through his feet and crawls all the way up and empties him out until there’s no room for shame or embarrassment or anything of himself at all, so he stands in the middle of the room with his hands over his ears and his eyes squeezed shut and tries to pretend he doesn’t have feet because eventually things go quiet again, they do, it’s just a question of how long it takes and how much of him gets peeled away in the meantime–

A different kind of quiet settles over him.

Not the raw type of quiet that usually arrives after the noise has worn itself out.

This is a solid quiet. As if someone has built a wall between him and the noise and has told it very sternly to stay out. 

The vibrating roar of the engines has dulled into an almost imperceptible hum. Like how it should be. 

He can’t hear his hammering heartbeat anymore, and his breathing is comfortably muffled.

He pries his eyes open carefully, in case someone actually managed to put a blanket over his head.

No one has. 

But there’s a blanket on the floor in front of him. 

He bends down and picks it up.

It’s brown. Brown is a quiet color. And it feels nice on his hands. 

He considers it for a moment, and then drapes it carefully over his head.

Oh. That’s much better.

In the dark and quiet, he has enough room to breathe properly.

And as he works on that, a slow, simmering shame begins to kindle uncomfortably behind his ribs.

That–

That wasn’t good.

The last time he’d let that happen had been on Kamino. An alarm had gone off in the barracks. A false alarm– the announcement came over the comms, calling off evacuation protocols– but the shrieking whine hadn’t shut up, and Stitch hadn’t been very big then so he’d opened his mouth to drown it out himself, and then Fractal had tackled him and dragged him under the bunk and pressed his face into his shirt so he could scream quietly and he’d squeezed him tight enough to force out all the noise that was trying to fill him up and–

He cuts the rest of that thought off, and breathes it out.

Then he breathes out the hiccups, and the ache behind his eyes, and the prickling numbness in his feet.

This time, when he peels the blanket off his head, the lights don’t hurt anymore.

He stares at the wall.

Then he shakes out the blanket, intending to fold it up, until he sees something that stops him short.

The blanket has a hood.

He stares.

Sleeves, too.

Then he remembers–

They don’t have brown blankets on the ship.

He looks down.

The thin line of light under the door is partially blocked.

Someone is sitting outside.

He looks again at the blanket-that-is-not-a-blanket.

At the blanket that is a cloak.

Clone troopers do not wear cloaks.

After a moment, he gives up on trying to fold it, and wraps it around his shoulders instead.

Helix says that General Kenobi can be trusted. Helix says to stay with General Kenobi because he brought troopers home safe. Helix says that General Kenobi stopped the decommissionings and that he wouldn’t ever send anyone back to Kamino, not even if they were– 

Not even if there was something really wrong with them.

(Helix says that General Kenobi is kind.)

Stitch takes a deep breath.

“We are learning,” he tells himself sternly, “how to be more than afraid.”

He opens the door before he can think better of it.

General Kenobi looks up.

Stitch hesitates before settling down cross-legged onto the floor next to him.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello, Stitch.”

His voice is very gentle. Not loud at all.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, sir.”

Then, belatedly–

“How are you feeling?”

The General smiles, and Stitch relaxes. “Quite all right, Stitch. Thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome,” he says quietly.

They sit in silence for a long moment until something occurs to him.

“Did you make it quiet?”

“I did.”

“Oh. How?”

“Nothing in your head, if that’s what you’re worried about,” General Kenobi says easily, and Stitch hastily remembers to worry about that and then remembers to be relieved that he doesn’t have to. “I have a friend who gets… overstimulated. Have you heard the term psychometry before?”

Stitch shakes his head.

“It is, in essence, the ability to read impressions by touch. Very useful, when used carefully, but occasionally he will glean something by accident, and sometimes those things are… overwhelming. We– myself and my friends– learned when we were much younger what would help. Creating a bubble of sorts would muffle other stimuli and give him time to reorient himself.”

He gives Stitch a sideways look, and says pointedly, “He’s quite the fierce fighter, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

Stitch ducks his head, feeling a burning flush crawl up the back of his neck.

“The– the bubble,” he says haltingly. “Did you– when you make it– with the Force?”

The General lets it slide. “I did.”

Stitch makes a face, and General Kenobi laughs.

He can’t help it. The Force doesn’t make sense, especially not General Kenobi’s, and it bothers him. Helix too, he knows. 

He doesn’t think it bothers Needle.

(But then again, he doesn’t think anything manages to bother Needle.)

The General shifts up onto his knees and closes his eyes, and the world–

Stitch doesn’t know how to describe it.

It settles back into place. Quietly. With no itching. And the noise makes sense again.

“Thank you,” he says, remembering, and really means it. “And– here–”

He pulls the cloak off his back and offers it up.

General Kenobi gives him a considering look.

“You could keep it, if you like,” he says. “I have more.”

“It’s not mine, sir.”

“What if I gave it to you?”

Stitch opens his mouth, and then pauses, scowling. Technically, it would be his, he knows, but not– not in the right way–

The weight vanishes from his hand. 

“You don’t have to,” General Kenobi informs him gently, slipping his arms into the sleeves. “It was just an offer. But thank you for giving it back.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“Would you like me to comm someone?”

“No thank you, sir.”

“All right,” the General accedes easily. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“Please don’t be bleeding,” Stitch ventures, and feels immensely pleased with himself when General Kenobi lets out a sudden bark of laughter.

“I’ll try my best.”

Stitch stays sitting against the wall for some time after General Kenobi leaves.

Thinking.

It’s only when voices approach from down the hallway that he levers himself to his feet and makes his way back to the medbay.

One week later, Needle comes in with their deliveries from the recent requisitions order and gleefully informs Stitch that there is something in it for him.

Stitch, bewildered, accepts the package. 

After some unsubtle encouragement from Needle, he opens it carefully.

Headphones.

Good headphones.

And the tag–

The tag says his name.

They’re his. 

(Properly.)

Later, Stitch concludes that General Kenobi sees the whole galaxy the way Helix sees him.

He thinks that’s a lot of people to love quite so much.

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

So I sat down the other day and went through the crane wives albums and some other songs to assign to Ninjago characters and I've finally sat down and decided to write the post out. The content are going to be under cut because this post will certainly be too long. I'm going to go album by album here starting with Coyote Stories and ending Here I Am: From The Listening Room.

(any and all "(X)" are simply links to the songs <3)

okay, here we go!

Coyote Stories

Keep You Safe: in some ways, I like to interpret part of this song as relating to Nya's perfectionism, especially within Possession. The bridge especially and lines "What if the steps I take turn out to be mistakes? How can someone like me learn to say "come what may"?" (X)

Allies or Enemies: this is Jay and Cole to me from Rebooted to ToE. Specifically, from Cole's perspective. The song has a lot of regret and bitterness in it that I just think fits so well. The first verse and second verse ("you owe me ears from dropping eaves"), and the bridge are all so clear to me. The bridge, "what happens now? do we have another go (oh) do we bow out and take our separate roads, I'll admit I've had my doubts (oh) but I want to be let in not out (oh) I want to be let in now out", reads to me like Cole's sudden giving in and desperation in their match in ToE. (X)

Hard Sell: this one's a little loser but it reminds me of Lloyd struggles to keep himself strong and straight with everything that gets thrown at him, all the stress. To be The Green Ninja (X).

Little Soldiers: Young Garmadon and Wu, I think. It's their doomed brotherhood, the way they loved each other clearly as impulsive youth ("on the broken backs of all the words we spared, like little soldiers in the trenches, it was a march we made through ruin and despair but we held hands all the while") but ultimately Wu couldn't keep his brother. The bridge reminds me of the war. (X)

Metaphor: Harumi, obviously. There's really no debate, it's her fake mask as the Jade Princess, it's her relationship to Lloyd even. "I've gotten good at leaning on metaphors, I've gotten good at leaning on someone else's page, I cut my teeth on second hand sentiments, you can't trust a single thing I say" -> princess era. It's a sweetly bitter song, chalk full of implications of trauma. The line "but I always dig up bones in your sympathy, I can't trust a single thing you say" is relevant to her relationship with Lloyd, I feel. (X)

Of Everlong: This is a lovely and very soulful song, short and sweet. It's reminiscent of Pixane, to me, specifically from Pixal's perspective. There's a certain connectiveness in being in someone's head. "and if my lover will not hear it take my voice and take my spirit leave weakened and dig my hole only my lover not I can keep my soul" vs "I do not know if there is anything after this life for beings such as you or I, but if there is, I will find you there. Goodbye my Zane." (X)

New Discovery: Fairly simple and not to deep, but this is a Misako song. Adventurer and explorer, and all (X).

The Moon Will Sing: I want to preface two things, A) this interpretation is very much looser and a little less connected t the full original meaning of the song and a little more based in reworking it to fit the characters and B) Wu haters will be stabbed by my mighty and large sword. This is Morro and Wu, on a level. "I shine only with the light you gave me", the light here i the green ninja prophecy,something Morro latched onto to prove his wroth, who is, who is to Wu. The entire song as an air of bitter grief I think fit's Morro and Wu's story. Morro could've grown up and been something more than a half baked angry ghost chasing a dream from 40 years ago, but he wasn't, "I could've been anyone, anyone." (X) (X) (<- an extra link to the demo of the song!! I find it rather lovely)

(Extra note on The Moon Will Sing, I could also see this being a song about Zane/The Ice Emperor and Vex.)

Rockslide: this is about to be very unsurprising, I associate this with Cole! There's obviously the title but generally I think the energy of the song is very Cole-like, in the fun sense. There's also the lines about feeling the "quakin honey I feel it deep" which is rather self explanatory. (X)

The Hand That Feeds: I'm shaky on this one simply because I don't remember or know her character very well, but Akita. Has a lot of mention of wolves and is a very angry song against systemic oppression (though, in the song it's anti-capitalism lol). (X)

Sleeping Giants: another Cole song, mostly based on the presence of mountains, and the 'calling' aspect of the song. I also tend to associate songs with strong drums like in this with Cole (like Drumming Song by Florence and the machine) (X).

Never Love An Anchor: I've seen this song go around actually, mostly with Misako. Which, I agree with! However, I consider it a dual song with her and Garmadon. Specifically, their season one selves. It's Misako leaving Lloyd at that boarding school, it's Garmadon being so absent even though he so clearly loves his son (and despite his evilness, he doesn't seem to wish Lloyd to follow in his footsteps). The first verse really resonates with me as being Misako, clumsy hands and trying her best, and all. The last verse however, is Garmadon ("I am selfish I am broken I am cruel") and so is the line "With this heart of mine that's guilty not remorseful." If you haven't heard this song, I truly, truly recommend it, it's gut wrenching imo. (X)

Okay! We've reached the end of Coyote Stories. That's 11/12 songs out of the albums, the best ratio we have on this listing I believe. Moving onto Foxlore now!

Foxlore:

Nothing At All: when I was looking at this song, trying to decide who to apply it to, I ended up getting kind of emotional. It's Zane, post Ice Emperor specifically. In his self-dehumanization. I'm just going to list out the lyrics that made me incredibly sad lol. "Happy is the man who wants for nothing happy is the lair happiness itself is desire", "heart broken men long to feel nothing to free themselves from strife handle pain, pain doesn't define a man it sure lends an hand getting measured in the sweeter parts of life". (X)

Down The River: Lloyd, post Garmadon revival and Crystallized. All his bitter feeling towards his father, and the angry abandonment issues. The first verse ("I've been wishig that you'd prove me wrong, that you'd come clean and rue the damage done, restore my faith in you, but you've got no reaosn to") and fifth ("Now, tell me, when you start again where will you house your skeletons? Or will they stay behind? Your settlement in kind?") especially. (X)

Can't Go Back: Zane, post Ice Emperor, again. It's that guilt man, I don't really have more to explain but know it makes me Sad. (X)

Turn Out The Lights: Jay, this is mostly about an anxiety head-canon lol, considering the song is about a racing mind. (X)

Ribs: this song is so Nya it hurts. It pretty strongly connects to her arc over the seasons about self independence, identity, and misogyny. It's her finding her place as who she is, and taking back things as her own ("It is mine, it is mine). Verse three I like to connect to her element being of Wojira's and how that is so symbolic of her place in the team (and why she reflect Morro so well in a lot of ways but I won't get into that), "time has changed the metaphor, now, dust is not the orgin of bone, little girl don't let them sell you any armor all your ribs are still your own". There's also the main chorus, which, god I got sad when I looked at it from the angle of Seabound. "The dark doesn't frighten me I chose to close my eyes, it is mine, it is mine, the night doesn't frighten me I chose to let it thrive, it is mine, it is mine." (X)

Not The Ghost: perhaps a little literal but, Cole in his Day Of The Departed era. Though, it connects to his feelings at the time more than his literal ghost-hood. It pretty strongly captures the depression, low self esteem, and growing urgency (around the Latter half of the song). You could also read some of the lyrics as paralleling the events of DOTD itself. (X)

And that's it for Foxlore, that is...6/10 I think, so not the worst either. Fun fact, this next section is my favorite album as a whole :)!

The Fool In Her Wedding Gown:

Icarus: now who else would this be about if not the doomed siblings of the series? Of course it's Wu and Garmadon. I think of this pretty strongly as paralleling their 'adventures' as young children, and then the war. "Oh my brother, oh my brother, oh my brother, who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here", yeah. The entire energy of the song has that weird sad, yet hopeful regret Wu seems to carry around with him in regards to Garmadon, it's a very loving song. (X)

Fangs: Nya, the entire song carries the desperate anger she has, the longing for independence and strength. It's bitter too, in a way that reminds me of her from Rebooted to Skybound. "I am not your highness, a damsel left helpless by fright, I am a lioness, fierce as I walk through the night", "a man will never know his bride"...and well, she was a bride once, wasn't she? (X)

That's it for TFIHWG actually, I know, sad sad ratio but I am also not suprised because a lot of the songs on this album are rather specific.

Safe Ship, Harbored:

New Colors: this one is really simple, Lloyd, and only because it reminds me about how consistently stressed he is lol. (X)

The Crooked, The Cradle: This is a Morro song, to me. The idea of were you doomed from the start (the cradle), or was this purely because of the choices you made? The line "can anyone hear me? The crooked are smiling, they know me the best" strongly reminds me of him and the Preeminent. (X)

(Additionally, this came to me as i was writing this section but I could also see this song being Garmadon coded.)

Caleb Trask: Oni Lloyd! The entire song is about the concept of having 'bad in your blood' and how you simply have to embrace it. That you cannot let it chain you, that love will bring you back. Reminds me of him. (X)

I Ain't Done: if you look at this from a purely conceptual level and energy wise, this song is very Morro. It's got his vengeful, jealous and vicious return from the dead to wreck havoc vibes lol, the lyrics in a literaly sense, however, do not fit. (X)

We're nearing the end now! kind of! 4/12 ratio.

Here I Am: Live From The Listening Room:

High Horse: Jaya, actually. From Rebooted to Skybound, from Nya's pov. Mostly, I connect it to that weird, unhealthy desperation Jay had for Nya and Nya's desire to be free of it, her own self. "You're a sweet heart, you're a curse, you're a passing grade on a low, low bar, you've got your eyes open, I know your worth, but I've got so many things in my hungry, hungry heart", sums it up pretty well. (X)

Here I Am: This one's Cole, but it's a bit of a mixture on why. First up, it's again DOTD era Cole with all his being forgotten angst and anxiety. Secondly, and maybe more painfully, it really reminds me of his and Lou's relationship early on. Neglected child core, and all that ("I promised myself I'd learn to be the one who leaves, with no more roots to tie me down, it's just a different kind of lonely"). The last verse is strongly reminiscent of his pure stubbornness, too. (X)

Queen Of Nothing: Solidly Harumi, a lot on vibes and mood. It's got a dark, sort of unsatisfied sound to it. The chorus screams her , "Isn't this what you wanted? Time sure feels like it's running out, just finish what you started, queen of nothing wearing such a heavy crown." (X)

Sowing Seeds: this one's a bit more general, it reminds me of Possession, the season. It's also a very moody song, having a tired, haunted sort of energy. It also fits nicely into the theme of consequences in Possession. The first verse ("still as a lake long after the wind is gone, in the face of a thief mashing ground to mud, still as a street long after the work is done, as he gnashes his teeth, as he cuts it up, cuts it up") heavily reminds me of Morro. (X)

Hollow Moon: fairly simple, Hollow Moon reminds me of Cole's fear on DOTD. It's got that spooky and paranoid sort of energy. (X)

The Wolf: this both a Harumi and Morro, bearing that bitter, self destructive energy. (X)

Now, that concludes all the albums thus far, and I know I sad we'd leave off on HIA:LFTLR, however, I am a lair. There's a couple songs that aren't on albums that's be a shame not to mention.

Margaret: this is Misako, in her loss of her husband, and her trails to find a way to fix things. "She's breaking her knuckles on truths that keep her awake, and she's tired but her jaw is set, she won't lose any more of the heart she still has left, so she says a prayer pulls the covers near and waits, Margaret won't sleep tonight." Lovely song. (X)

Scars: this is a newly released song! I believe it connects back to Never Love An Anchor, and as such, it fits Lloyd very well. Specifically in relation to Garmadon, post revival. It so so fits all that anger in him at his dad ("cause I was born with a whole in my heart, yeah, we were fucked from the start, tell me it's inevitable I'd end up with scars from falling down, down, we were always meant to fall apart"). (X) (X) (<- the second is a live audio recording that is personally my favorite!)

Okay, no we're done! Anyways, if you read all the way down here I hope any of this made sense. This is a little bit of a love letter to The Crane Wives and Ninjago, I spent hours doing this lol. If you haven't heard any or some of these songs, please do listen to them!! Every song mentioned should have an accompanying link. Anyways, time to end this stupidly long post, please share if you have any thoughts or connect songs differently!!!!!!!!

[kitthefoxkin]

KINTYPE LIST!

over the past year, ive experimented with multiple labels and identities. this is to update yall on the creatures i feel connected to and identify as/with!

1. Red Fox

this is my strongest type, and is my main hearttype. i experience phantom limbs, specifically a tail, ears, fangs, muzzle, and being the size of a fox. i also experience the most species dysphoria in regards to my red fox kintype. this has been my longest-lasting identity as well! i own quite a bit of gear for this type, including a tail and multiple self-made masks. for me, red foxes teeter on the line between identifying *with* and identifying *as* one. so far, though, i do consider myself foxhearted! i experience longing for forests and fields, and a burrowed den. i also enjoy collecting and hoarding small items and food, similar to a fox. i specifically know that i have red fur, black paws and ear tips, and a white tail tip with green eyes.

2. Grey Fox

this is much more recent! a few days ago, i did a moodboard for someone regarding a grey fox, and i felt an instant connection. this is definitely a hearttype for me. something about looking at images of these critters makes me feel like im looking at family. grey foxes are most active at dusk and dawn, which i identify with strongly. grey foxes are unique in their ability for climbing trees, which i identify so strongly with! i love climbing up and just perching in a tree, watching people below me. it makes me feel safe and at-home. looking at this image feels like looking in a mirror, honestly. i believe that grey foxes are a strong hearttype for me, and may also dip into kintype territory!

3. Ocelot

again, this is very recent. i made a moodboard i believe just yesterday with these critters and something just clicked. i have experienced multiple feline shifts/behaviors, but i thought they were just cameo shifts. now i know that this is me!! ocelots are nocturnal, extremely territorial, and spend time in dense brush or trees-- all things that i identify with. ocelots mainly live in coastal marshes, mangrove forests, and tropical forests. i feel SO connected to this critter, it's absurd. this is definitely a kintype for me.

4. North American River Otter

our first linktype! i identify voluntarily as a river otter. ive always thought they were really cool and i feel a strong connection to creeks and rivers. i also exhibit multiple otter behaviors, some intentionally and some unintentionally. swimming is also quite euphoric for me! i don't feel entirely aquatic though, and i know i have paws and fur while in the water. this was my first linktype i chose! to me, this is a funlink.

5. Wild Rabbit

this is mostly behavior-based. i experience intense prey instincts, remain alert when outdoors, feel the need to burrow and make a safe place for myself, prefer to be solitary, make nests, and dig! i have quite a few rabbits in my neighborhood, and i feel a strong relation to them. im not quite sure what label fits my experience-- it's not intentional, but doesn't feel involuntary either. more like learned behaviors. i don't feel that i am a rabbit, but i am very much so like a rabbit. i dont identify with rabbits, but i do act and feel like one. it's strange! but burrowing and nesting makes me feel so euphoric :33 i believe this may be a form of copinglink, alongside a deeper involuntary identity.

6. Wolf

this is a copinglink/involuntary identity. again, it's behavior-based. this type feels the strongest whenever i am alone or with another person i care about, especially when in dangerous situations or areas. this is a very general wolf/canine type, as it's not specific to one kind or breed of canine. grey wolf seems to be the strongest, but i also feel shifts and identify as/with black wolves, coastal wolves, dobermans, german shepherds, and other canines! i believe this does partially stem from trauma, as i feel like a feral dog let free from confinement. however, i still identify on some integral level as a wolf, or as someone who was raised by/should have been one.

thats all for now! ill come back and edit this post whenever i see fit to add/remove information and kintypes ^^

[standfucker]

Engravings

inspired by the following comment on my last SH fic:

Couldn't stop thinking about it, which eventually led to this.

Characters: Sanji

Reader: GN, they/them

Word Count: 6.2k

CW: Hurt/Comfort, SH, SH scars, auditory hallucinations, PTSD, mental institution-related trauma. No shipping, ace-friendly

Summary: It’s Sanji. You’re immediately, wholeheartedly certain. It’s Sanji, and he knows.

AO3 Link

"I’m listening to everything / please, tell me everything"

Nothing’s happened.

The sea is calm, the sun is shining, and the breeze is strong. All in all, a great day for sailing.

Nothing’s happened…

No recent squabbles among the crew, no surprises from sea beasts, no battles with pirates or Marines.

There’s no reason to feel the way you do. No trigger or logic to it. But you feel it anyway.

It’s like there’s an invisible filter over everything. Nothing looks different. Things sound different, though. The sounds of the waves and wind, the snapping of sailcloth and rope, the din of the crew’s voices. All of it wavers, like someone has their hand on a universal volume dial, yanking it back and forth at random. Sometimes the sounds are piercingly loud, like they’re right next to your ears, making you resist the urge to cover them. Sometimes the sounds blend into the background of everything else in a low, dull hum–so distorted that you have to focus to parse what’s being said to you.

The sound issue is your second tip-off that you’re having that kind of day. The first is the sense that the Sunny feels too small. And, crushingly, overwhelmingly, it feels like your fault. Irrational, but you can’t shake it. Really, it’s stupid: On the outside, it just looks like you’re hanging out next to your crewmates, making idle conversation. Inwardly, there’s such a deep feeling of guilt for just being there that you’re ready to throw yourself overboard.

You try to cope. You really do. You make an effort, mentally talking yourself through it.

I am allowed to take up space. I am allowed to exist.

You want to cry. You want to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. It doesn’t make sense, and there’s no cause you can identify. You feel like you’re going to throw up.

No one notices. How could they? Your mask is calm smiles and practiced eye contact, formed with easy jokes and interest in what the others say. Your mask is years in the making, thick with each layer you’ve added to seal in the cracks. It’s heavy and ugly, but it keeps you safe.

I am allowed to exist.

There’s no danger. You can’t explain why your fight-or-flight response is going off. There’s something wrong with you, and no one can see it because the problem is deep in the wiring. You can’t even see it. But you can feel it, and it feels so god-awful you don’t know how to endure it.

You feel yourself shaking from head to toe, so much so that it’s hard to keep your balance. But when you look down, your body is completely still. The noise around you blends together and buzzes like static, harsh on your ears. Then it gets louder.

I am allowed to exist.

You want to crawl in a hole and hide.

I am…

You excuse yourself–casually, collectedly–and head for the ship’s interior. You know what you’re going to do before you even start moving, like the decision’s already been made for you. A certainty that settles in your system, something to hold onto. The background noise grows even louder.

You stumble into the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door, all sound cuts out. 

You can’t hear anything. Not even the sea, nor the creaking wood of the ship. The room shifts, draws away from you until you have tunnel vision. Your vision warps, then focuses on the cabinet above the sink until you can see nothing else. Just like before.

It’s been a few weeks since the last time.

The background noise slowly picks up, but it’s distant, like you’re hearing it coming from a different ship. You reach for the cabinet.

What are you doing?

You open the cabinet. It’s organized so each crewmate’s stuff is clustered together, with the common items at the bottom. Your gaze passes over your deodorant, your nail clippers, your toothbrush, and settles on your straight razor.

Aren’t you too old for this?

You take your razor. From the common items, you take a bottle of alcohol. You fold up some tissue paper.

What would the crew think?

It’s hard to ignore the thoughts. But like any bully, they usually go away if you don’t give them energy. Usually.

The razor’s weight in your hand is comforting. It shouldn’t be, but it is. You unfold it, wipe down the blade with some alcohol. Then you lift up your sleeve and slide it over your shoulder.

This stretch of sea has been balmy. With the pleasant weather, you’ve worn a t-shirt, the short sleeves going just less than halfway down your arm. Underneath them, high up on your shoulder, are the scars. Faint and healed, a few shades lighter than your skin tone. Noticeable in the light, but that’s why you don’t participate in the group baths.

The background noise gets louder again. You think you hear shouting, faintly, but that’s normal for the crew. It barely registers over your heartbeat. 

Your heart is beating harder than before, dull thumps in your chest that seem to echo. Anticipating, ready.

Everything is going to be okay.

Finally. Finally. A hurt you can make sense of. Small, controlled. Yours.

There’s supposed to be a rush, you’ve heard. You don’t feel one. But there is a difference. The tunnel vision stops, the filter lifts. The world snaps back into place, the sound goes back to normal.

That’s when you really notice the shouting, no longer muffled by brain static. Something’s off. You focus. It doesn’t sound argumentative, like Zoro and Sanji. Nor is it playful, like Luffy or Franky’s might be. It’s startled and panicky, immediately grabbing your attention and making your adrenaline surge.

A second later, you hear an echoing BOOM, followed by an ear-splitting crunching of wood. It’s a sound you recognize, one you’ve heard before–a cannonball tearing into the ship.

You’re under attack.

For just a moment, you stare at your equipment, caught off guard. Then you pull yourself together–take your feelings and compartmentalize them for later dealing with–and tear out of the bathroom, dropping the tissue in the process. Your pistols are in their case, in the sleeping quarters. You need to get to them before you can join the fight…

The enemy pirates are strong–for a New World crew. Unfortunately for them, they’re completely outclassed by Luffy alone, much less the combined strength of the Straw Hats. Still, the numbers favor the enemy, and the battle is tiring enough to be distracting. Enough so that you forgot about what you were doing before it started. It’s only an hour into helping Franky patch up the ship, when you feel your shirt sleeve catch on your scabs, that you remember.

Then you realize you left your equipment out in the bathroom.

The razor. The alcohol. The bloody tissue paper.

Panic floods your system. You drop your tools and jump up as if electrocuted, all but flying to the bathroom. Has anyone used it since the fight?

Please no, please please please be wrong.

You kick the door open. It bangs harshly against the wall.

The equipment is gone. Your stomach sinks.

No no no no no.

You open the cabinet. Everything’s been returned to its place. Your straight razor has been folded and put away, as has the alcohol. The used tissue paper is gone. Not in the trash, either. Whoever it was must have discarded it in the toilet.

No no no no no!

Who? 

Who was it? You run through the possibilities in your head. Zoro? No, he wouldn’t clean up after someone else’s mess. Neither would Nami. At least, not for free. And what about the rest of the crew?

Whoever it was, would they even know what they saw? Surely they’d just think you cut yourself shaving. That was the only explanation, right? Even if the patterns on the tissue paper were distinct, the stains shaped into blurry, beaded lines–unless they had done it before, there’s no way they’d know. Right?

This time, when you shiver, it’s for real, not just a figment of your imagination. What would happen if you were found out? At best you’d be kicked out of the crew. At worst…

I’ll get locked up again.

You feel ill. Dizzy and nauseated with the prospect. You try not to spiral, try to get a grip before panic can take hold. The best you can do is to close the door behind you, sit on the floor, and take deep breaths.

You’re not sure how long you’re there–minutes, hours–but you don’t get up until someone knocks on the door.

“You almost done?” Usopp calls from the other side.

Swallowing hard, you find your voice. “Yeah. Just a sec.”

Usopp doesn’t so much as give you a second glance when you pass him. It’s not him.

You’re hypervigilant the rest of the day, scrutinizing every action, every word from your crewmates. Nothing seems different, but that only makes you more paranoid.

Nami offers you a tangerine. The simple action sets off a cascade of racing thoughts: Is she trying to make you feel better? Because she knows? Did she tell anyone? Did she tell Chopper? Luffy?

Every interaction is like that–an innocuous action that makes you flip out internally.

Franky gives you a gift: A cute little wind-up frog toy, made from scrap metal. He says it's to thank you for helping with repairs. You scan his face, but he’s only grinning proudly. Not Franky, either. 

Zoro invites you to drink with him. Brook plays a song you like. Robin hands you a book she’s just finished, saying it might suit your tastes. Nothing unusual, but enough to make you second guess everything. Each time, you cling to your mask, holding it so tightly to your face that you can barely breathe.

The next day, Sanji cooks your favorite meal for dinner. That wouldn’t be too weird, except you know for a fact that your favorite involves pricy ingredients that he prefers to save. You know this because he mentioned it, years ago, when he was teaching you how to make the dish.

You and Sanji had joined the Straw Hats at the same time. Two weeks before Luffy had shown up, you had tried and failed to dine-and-dash from Baratie. Zeff forced you to work to pay it off, plus an extra week to “teach you a lesson.” That was when you got to know Sanji. Unlike the rest of the chefs, he wasn’t mad at you for what you did. He even taught you some of the basics of cooking. As the only soft presence on the floating restaurant, you grew attached, and that feeling of reliance never really left since then. You were drawn to his air of confidence and self-assuredness, but mostly to the fact that he never hid who he was, even when who he was could be straight-up idiotic at times. But you still respected that about him.

You always liked to hang out around the cook, helping him prepare meals with what you learned at Baratie. You both fought well together, having each others’ backs in battle despite your different fighting styles. It was safe to say that he was your favorite crewmate, and though you weren’t sure what he thought of you, you viewed him as your closest friend.

So you really, really don’t want it to be Sanji.

You appraise his expression, his movement, his actions. It all seems normal, on the surface. And yet, it feels off somehow, but you can’t tell if that’s just the paranoia speaking.

“How is it?” Sanji inquires.

You stare for a second. It’s not a question he usually asks–he knows it’s your favorite and he knows you think it’s amazing. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but the smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Delicious, as always,” you say. Your own smile lights up your face, the way you’ve carefully practiced. “What’s the occasion?”

He pauses, rubs the back of his neck. “No reason, really. I just thought that it’s been a while since we’ve had it.”

That evening, you’re alone at the port side of the ship, leaning against the railing and looking out at the night sea. Sometimes it helps with your racing thoughts. This time, it does nothing. Nothing keeps you from fixating on the situation. You feel like you’re hanging by a thread, like at any moment you’ll get kicked off the crew, and then your whole world will unravel. And it’s entirely your fault.

The questions won’t stop repeating themselves: Who was it? Did they know?

Behind you, someone clears their throat. You whirl around a bit too quickly and steady yourself with a hand on the railing. Sanji’s standing there with his hands in his pockets. Something about his posture sets alarm bells off in your head. He’s too stiff, trying too hard to appear composed.

“Hey, Y/n,” Sanji says gently, “can I talk to you about something?”

It’s Sanji. 

You’re immediately, wholeheartedly certain. It’s Sanji, and he knows.

You gape at him for a moment, then collect yourself. The mask comes back on.

“Actually, I’m pretty tired. Gonna turn in for the night. Tomorrow, okay?” you dismiss, and go to walk past him.

“Wait a second, Y/n,” he reaches to grab your wrist, but you yank it away before he can.

“Don’t!” you snap, stepping back, then quickly correct yourself. “I mean–don’t surprise me like that! We’ll talk tomorrow. I really should sleep...”

Sanji frowns, hand slowly lowering, and you make a hasty retreat.

The rest of the week is torture. You’re constantly avoiding Sanji wherever possible. He doesn’t strike up conversation when the others are around, which only makes you more certain that he knows. You ensure that you’re never alone with him, and if he does approach you by himself, you make yourself scarce. It becomes harder and harder to hide that you’re avoiding him. The crew takes notice–it’s not difficult considering you and Sanji are normally close.

Zoro’s the first to say something.

“Oi, Y/n. Did you have a fight with the cook or something?” he asks bluntly.

“No, we didn’t,” you reply.

Zoro’s eyes narrow slightly. “Well, you’re both acting weird.”

Some of the others are looking your way, now. Anxiety sours your stomach. You hold your mask steady as he continues.

“You’ve been kind of flighty lately. And he’s oddly subdued,” Zoro says, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, since he’s finally quiet for once, but it’s annoying. Would you just talk to him?”

“Uh…yeah, sure thing.”

Obviously, you don’t talk to Sanji. You keep evading him at every turn, only growing more distressed with each passing day. You know you can’t dodge the issue forever, but the moment you stop is the moment you’ll get kicked off the crew or worse, and that thought makes you want to die.

But the Sunny is only so large, and eventually, Sanji manages to corner you one night at the bow of the ship. You have your back to the figurehead, throat dry as you face him. Brook is up in the crow’s nest, keeping watch. Everyone else is asleep. It’s just you two, and you know you’ve run out of luck.

“We need to talk, Y/n,” Sanji says firmly.

Your throat goes dry. “Now?”

“Right now. No more running,” he says, taking a few steps closer. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly.”

There’s no getting out of it anymore. “...Alright.” you say. Your heart pounds harder, palms growing damp.

Sanji takes a long drag off his cigarette, then stubs it out–that’s when your adrenaline really spikes, when you know you’re in for it. He looks you in the eye.

“Should you have access to firearms?”

The question hits you like a brick, stunning you into wide-eyed silence. You open your mouth, then close it, unable to respond for a second.

“...What are you talking about?” you try.

“Given how you’ve been avoiding me,” he says coolly, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I’m–I’m not following.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Y/n!” he snaps, and you cringe. “Of everything you’re hiding, this is the one thing I’m going to find out. I’m not asking. You’re going to tell me or I’m going to tell Chopper. So answer me, right now: Are you safe around guns?”

You can’t take another step back, but you instinctively try anyway, your heel scraping the wood of the ship. But there’s nothing you can do. The mask crumbles, years and years of desperate crafting turning to dust in an instant.

“God, Sanji,” you respond, “what am I supposed to say to that?”

“The truth,” he says.

“And if you didn’t like my answer, what would you do? Take them away from me?”

“Yes.” His tone is unyielding, his eyes hard.

Yours start to sting at the corners. “And what after that? You’ll have me–” you bite your tongue to keep the tears from forming, “–you’ll have me kicked off the crew?”

“I never said that,” he says stiffly, “you don’t get it–”

“You don’t get it!” you bite back, voice rising. You lower it before continuing, “you don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re cutting.”

You flinch. The words sting. It’s not a pleasant sting this time. You turn your head, unable to look him in the eye.

“It’s just…” Sanji says, and there’s a touch of hurt in his voice, “after everything we’ve been through, I thought you trusted me.”

“I do,” you say automatically.

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

That stings even deeper. You shake your head. “I do, Sanji, but this is different.”

“Why?”

“It’s none of your business!” you bite. Bile rises in your throat at your venom; you hate being callous.

“My friend’s hurting themselves,” Sanji replies thinly, “that makes it my business.”

“That isn’t how this works!” you argue. “You don’t get to know everything about me just because you don’t like this!”

“Don’t I?”

“No!”

“You don’t feel safe with me.”

That one’s like a punch to the gut. You can’t tell what’s worse, the words themselves or the way he’s looking at you. That one hurts the most, because it’s true.

“...No,” you say after a moment, then steel yourself. “You’re right. I don’t. I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Sanji, please.”

“Don’t you plead now,” Sanji says, his tone hardening. “Don’t you put me in this position, Y/n.”

“I don’t have a choice, Sanji. I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Why?”

“Sanji!”

“Why?!”

“Because last time I trusted someone with this, I lost everything!” you blurt out. “I was institutionalized, okay?! Locked up! Is that what you wanted to know? Are you satisfied now?”

Your words echo in the silence that follows. He stares, jaw dropped slightly. You’re shaking, for real this time, and the words pour from you like a dam unblocked.

“You don’t know how humiliating it is, Sanji, to have the strings on all your clothes cut off, to be given only felt tip pens to write with, to not have doors, to have a scheduled bed time. To have all your choices taken away.” Your vision blurs as you continue. “I couldn’t do anything. It was like a prison. The other patients didn’t give a shit. The staff definitely didn’t give a shit. And all the while, they drained me of all my savings, until I didn’t have a single berri to my name. Then they kicked me to the curb. The one who reported me didn’t want to be associated with a crazy person. Neither did the rest of my friends. I was homeless. I had no one and nothing! That’s why I fled my home island, and that’s why I tried to dine and dash at Baratie.”

Sanji looks taken aback. He blinks quickly, then stares down at the deck. “What would you have me do, then?”

“This is supposed to be private!” You cover your face, fighting back tears. “You need–you need to keep your mouth shut and mind your business! I don't want anyone’s ‘support.’ You were never supposed to know.” You take a shaky breath and lower your hands. “If you really care, you’ll keep it to yourself, you’ll forget what you saw, and if you tell anyone…I won’t stick around to make the same mistake twice.”

Despite what you say, you already know it’s too late. There’s no going back, and now that he knows, it’s only a matter of time until you’re left behind. You bite your tongue to keep from crying at the thought, but you have to bite harder this time. The tears keep threatening to spill anyway, until you’re tasting iron.

Sanji is quiet. He pulls out his cigarettes and lights one, not speaking until after he takes a drag. “…Do you regret joining the crew?”

“Joining the Straw Hats was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you say honestly. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“But you aren’t happy, are you?”

“Multiply something by zero and you get zero, right?” You look away, guilt eating at you. Experience tells you that no one wants to hear this. “I’m not trying to sound dramatic. I just… I don’t work right.”

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic.”

For some reason, that, more than anything else, breaks you. The first tears slip past your defense. You say nothing, lower lip trembling.

Sanji takes another slow drag of his cig and exhales away from your direction. “I don’t know how I missed it.”

“I do,” you say. “At the hospital, they…” the words die in your throat as the memories surge forward. “They…they…” You can’t finish, but tears begin streaming down your cheeks. You shake your head. “Let’s just say, after that, I learned not to ever give anything away. Never again.”

“They did something to you.”

You barely nod. Already you feel yourself slipping into a flashback, feel the nurses holding you down and the needle jabbing into your flesh.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji says, taking a step toward you, and then another, until he can reach out and gently touch your forearm. The touch brings you back, grounding you so that you’re back in the present. But the gentle action, and Sanji’s soft expression, only makes the tears flow faster, makes your nose run. You shrug.

“It must have been scary.”

Slowly, you nod again.

“Will you answer my question, Y/n? Please?” Sanji asks. “Please, I need to know you’re safe around guns. Will you at least tell me that much?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and wipe your face. When you answer, you look him in the eye so he knows you’re telling the truth. “Yeah. I’m… Yeah.”

Sanji sighs, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Thank goodness. Okay. Can I ask you something else?” At your nod, he goes on. “How long have you been feeling like this? Before the hospital, I mean.”

“...Since I was young,” you sniff. “I’ve been ‘coping’ on and off for years.”

Sanji sticks his hands in his pockets. “Okay. Can I see?”

“What?” The question catches you so off-guard that you stop crying. “I’m–I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going to show Chopper, right?” Sanji says. “So–”

“You’re not gonna tell him?” you cut him off, surprised.

“I haven't decided yet,” he admits. “I don’t want to go against your wishes, Y/n. But I don’t know the extent of the damage. Just… Just, let me see?”

“No.” You’re shocked at his audacity. What’s he thinking? Of course you can’t do that.

“I won’t judge. I swear, I just want to know you’re okay,” Sanji says.

“You can say that, but…” you rub your arm. “Be real. You’ll never look at me the same way again.”

“It won’t change how I think of you.”

“It will!” you shout, then lower your voice. “It will, forever. There’s no going back once that line is crossed and you see me for what I really am.”

He frowns. “Which is?”

“A freak!” 

Neither of you say anything for a moment. Then you shake your head again. “I’m sorry, Sanji. But a guy like you–strong, handsome, confident–you wouldn’t understand.”

Sanji gets a weird look on his face, one you’ve never seen in all the years you’ve sailed with him. He looks to the side, then down, then up. His drags on his cigarette become long and harsh, finishing it in three breaths. He lights another, making a face. Then he nods to himself, like he’s decided something.

“Okay,” Sanji says. “There’s something I want you to see.”

You frown. When Sanji puts his hands on the hem of his pants, you frown deeper. He pauses.

“Um. Just trust me, okay? I promise I’m not doing anything weird–just wait a sec.”

He slides down his pants, and you have no idea what’s going through his head until his pale upper thighs are exposed. Then, finally, you understand, and you cover your mouth in shock.

Both of his upper thighs are covered in a myriad of scars. There must be over a hundred, clustered just above where shorts would hide them. Most of them are big, inches long and criss-crossed with each other. A few are keloid scars, thick and raised above the skin.

Your stare could burn a hole through his flesh. Slowly, you look up at him. Sanji has a faint blush on his face, looking sheepish.

“Guys like me can be freaks too,” he says simply.

You’re in complete disbelief. You keep looking back from the scars to his face. It’s too much to process–where would you even begin? Sanji, of everyone on the crew–Sanji’s like you? Brave, unwavering, gallant Sanji? Of everyone? When you don’t respond, he speaks again.

“See, Y/n? You’re not alone.”

Tears sting the corners of your eyes again. You find your voice. “Yours are old.”

“Yeah. I got lucky. Had someone’s support.” Sanji smiles slightly, in a way that he only does when thinking of…

“Zeff?”

“Yeah. He eventually found out.” Sanji laughs nervously. “At first he freaked out. Thought I was using kitchen knives. After he calmed down, he told me…he told me he wouldn’t abandon me over that, because what kind of parent would that make him?” His expression wavers like he’s trying not to cry.

You, on the other hand, start crying again the moment you hear the word “abandoned.” You realize that’s precisely how you felt back then.

Sanji grabs your shoulders so you look up at him. “You’re not getting kicked off of the crew.”

“...I’m not?” you ask, voice small and pathetic.

“No. I promise.” Sanji squeezes your shoulders reassuringly. “No one else needs to know. But, Y/n, I’m not going to leave you to deal with this alone. So, will you show me?”

“...You won’t tell anyone?”

“I won’t. I swear on my honor. This stays between us.” He lowers his arms.

You bite your lip, sniffing. You shut your eyes, mustering up your courage, and nod. Sanji waits patiently as you breathe slowly to steady yourself. You hesitate before peeling back your sleeve, exposing your upper arm.

He’s quiet as he inspects the damage. Unlike his old scars, yours have yet to finish healing, still in the scabbing stage. A ladder of thin, dark red lines decorate your upper arm and shoulder. You look between your cuts and his scars. Yours aren’t as deep as what Sanji had done, which you feel weirdly ashamed about.

Sanji’s hand comes up, hovering over your cuts like he’s going to touch them, but then he rests it on your forearm instead. Despite the clear evidence that he won’t judge you, you’re still self-conscious, so you break the silence.

“The scabs catch on my sleeves,” you say awkwardly.

Sanji nods. “I had to bandage my thigh so it wouldn’t bleed through while I was working. It always felt so…”

“Stupid,” you both say. Then you both smile at the unexpected camaraderie. 

“What’s really stupid is how long I went thinking I was the only one,” you say, “and all this time, you…” You gesture vaguely.

“Can you do something for me?” Sanji asks. “Whatever you’re using–I’m not going to take anything from you. But in exchange, I want you to talk to me. We can talk in the galley, when it’s just us two.”

“I don’t know how to talk about it.”

How could you, after what had been done to you? After everyone you used to trust turned their backs? Knowing that Sanji understood you couldn’t fix the mental scars left behind by others. You could try to rationalize it, but just thinking about discussing the past made your throat dry up.

“If I told you about mine first, would it make you more comfortable?” Sanji offers.

You balk. “You–you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind, if it means helping you.” Sanji says earnestly. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge. How could I? We’re the same.”

Something broken inside you changes right then. Deep engravings fill with gold like broken pottery, sealing some of the cracks in your soul. Unmasked and exposed, Sanji sees into you, and he doesn’t waver or turn. He smiles, gently and softly and lovingly. Your eyes fill with fresh tears.

Sanji holds out his pinky finger. “Freaks?”

You smile from ear to ear, even as the tears start flowing again, and lock pinkies with him. “Freaks.”

So caught up in the moment are the two of you that neither one notices when Zoro appears until it’s too late.

He’s further down the deck, but standing right under one of the ship’s lights, so you can see him smile. “Hey, you guys are–” he starts, then notices Sanji’s pants. His smile instantly turns to a look of indignation, then rage. “What the hell?!”

Sanji scrambles to pull up his pants as Zoro charges.

“What the hell are you doing to Y/n, you creep?!” Zoro yells.

You hurriedly pull down your sleeve and move in front of Sanji, holding your arms up. “Wait a sec, Zoro!” 

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” Sanji cries.

Zoro screeches to a halt right in front of you, but then stretches over your shoulder to snarl at Sanji. “You better have a good explanation for this, shitty cook!”

You grab Zoro’s arms to hold him back. Not that you could ever hope to overpower him, but you know he’s too brotherly toward you to push you out of the way. “Zoro!”

“What?” Zoro turns his focus on you, “what did he do? I’ll kick his ass for you, Y/n.”

“No, that’s–”

Sanji interjects, “I didn’t–”

“We were…”

Zoro relaxes somewhat, now frowning and looking at both of you weirdly. “What exactly were you guys doing?”

Really, being in the middle of the night, it’s not a good look. You and Sanji are both caught off guard. Fumbling hard, you both speak at once.

“I was looking at a fungal infection!” you say.

“They were removing a tick!” Sanji says at the same time.

Both of you glance at each other.

“Tick,” you correct.

“Fungal,” Sanji says.

Zoro blinks. “A fungal tick?”

You both just nod.

Zoro stares between you two, then relaxes. “Oh... Okay. Good of you to not wake Chopper.” He nods and turns, leaving the two of you to it.

So flooded with relief are you that it’s staggering. You mentally thank the stars that Zoro is a simple and straightforward type of guy.

You and Sanji watch Zoro walk away. Once he’s out of earshot, you both look at each other.

Then you both burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, clutching your chest.

Sanji wipes away a tear. “That was close, huh?”

The laughter dies down into giggles before you calm yourselves, grinning at each other. Then you’re both throwing your arms around the other in a tight embrace, squeezing like you’ve never been hugged before in your lives. You bury your face in Sanji’s chest, he rests his head on yours. Your fingers dig into the other’s clothing, soaking in the warmth and the comfort that you could only get from someone who truly understood. You stay like that for a few minutes, quiet, close, and held.

“Are you sure?” you whisper after a minute. “That you want to deal with this? With me? What if I never get better?”

“Nothing’s set in stone but the poneglyphs,” Sanji replies, running a hand over your head so you look up at him. “Our future hasn’t been determined.”

“Our future?”

“You and me and the rest of the crew. There’s still time to grow, and to change.” He holds the back of your head tenderly.

“When does that time run out?” you ask, uncertain.

“It doesn’t.” Sanji smiles down at you. “As long as we’re alive, there’s another chance. That opportunity is always there.”

You smile back, then press your face into his chest again. Sanji squeezes you tighter.

“Tomorrow,” you mumble into his shirt. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“I bet.”

“I never want to hide from you again.”

You feel Sanji kiss the top of your head. “And I never want to make you cry again.”

“I want to tell you everything.”

“I’ll listen.”

You both stay like that for a while longer, each second spent there healing something within yourselves.

It will take weeks to figure out how to talk about your troubles. When you’re up for it, you talk in the galley as Sanji cooks, you helping him out as usual with prep and cleanup. It’s even longer before Sanji learns everything. In the interim, you become the only Straw Hat to learn of Sanji’s past before he ever gets a wedding invite.

Like worn muscles rebuilding, like bone regrowing stronger, the scars you’ve revealed to each other, both physical and mental, strengthen your bond more than anything else ever could.

"let it out, let me in, take a hold of my hand / there's nothing like another soul that's been cut up the same" -Handwritten, The Gaslight Anthem

[queer-questions-and-polls]

Hi there, I'm afab and I've been questioning my gender for about the past year.

My question to you is - is it valid for your non binary identity to be linked to your trauma? (I'm really, really sorry for this long ask)

Ok, so I may be about to go on a massive tangent here. These past few months, I've basically done away with so much of what I thought I knew about myself. When I was a child, since as long as I can remember, I've felt like I needed to be feminine in my presentation. I've never felt like an innocent, carefree child, and I don't relate to trans people who say they felt free in their prepubescent body, and want to return to that androgyny, because never had that .

I'm also recently diagnosed autistic, and my masking goes really deep - as far as I can remember. It was really strange - it was like i kept femininity at an arm's length. For example, I would have a really strong aversion to the colour pink. But there were also really strict guidelines I put in place for myself, for example no boys clothing, no martial arts or football, even if I wanted to. I lived in another country for a while, and I had a really short haircut which I hated, and I would often get mistaken for a boy, and that would enrage me, because they were questioning my authenticity.

I don't think I ever wanted to be feminine, but I felt I had to be to protect myself.

And now, the societal expectations of girlhood quite literally make me feel sick when I think about me in those contexts. I don't think I want to be a girl, but it's not a choice I can make, right? Am I just a pick me girl with issues? Do I just have trauma, and is this something I need to fix, or am I allowed not to be a girl?

As for dysphoria, I have no idea if it's just poor body image, since I don't fit typical beauty standards. Do I hate my boobs because they're absolutely massive, or because they make me a girl (rhetorical question)?

You sound so much like me to be honest with you.

It's fine to go on a tengent <3

that's what I'm here for to listen and give advice/ tell you about a similar experience so no one feels alone.

I, as a child was strongly encouraged to be feminine & i felt like I needed to to be loved and safe, I hated pink & had big trauma from all male figures in my life who give me really poor body image issues that I still have to this day, because that I hated masculinity for a long time and myself to be female. I forced myself to get into dancing i started wearing make-up (I was 6 at that time)

I didn't get to be a Carefree child either, I also didn't have that. My androgyny went away at 2 years old.

The rules sound somewhat like me when I was refusing to question my gender.

Now to your final paragraph: you not wanting to be girl isn't you making a choice.

E.g: I don't want to be a girl I get dysphoria about being one.

the only choice being made there is about if transioning is right for you.

I have both dysphoria and poor body image (i wasn't conventionality attractive either) and to be honest with you I get that completely but I can tell you what I do personally to differentiate it. Which is thinking 'is this about my weight or looking to feminine?' But that probably won't work for everyone.

A pick me girl with issues? My dude. (Sorry if that wording brings any discomfort)

A pick me girl is someone looking for male validation and that doesn't sound like anything you've said at all. But if you mean a tomboy it really doesn't sound like that either.

Idk if this will help but I also have massive boobs, and by observing my mother who is the same size as me i figured something something out: women with big boobs typically hate them because of back problems & bra issues.

I, a transmasc just hate them in general as well as for outing me even in a binder and I wish they would disappear. My mother wishes hers were half their size.

Even if you your transness is linked to trauma does that make you less trans?

Also something else i would recommend that helped me is to imagine yourself as one of your friends and your trying to help them figure themselves out.

(Bassically look at yourself though an outside perspective it usually helps!)

I wish you good luck on your gender journey and I hope this helped you at least a little <3

And remember I'm just a stranger on the internet, you know you best so don't take my word as the gospel truth.

[starsreminisce]

Before HOFAS Elriels claimed Elain will play a major part. Plus SJM said this book will set the future ACOTAR book.

After HOFAS came out, it was obvious that Elain didn't make an appearance. Some Elriels continue to argue the book points out to Elain's book. . . However Az had A MAJOR part it the book. I believe he deserves HIS story to be told.

Az definitely deserves to have his story told, and I believe that Elain isn't the right person for him to share it with.

SJM tends to follow a formula that works well for her. She often pairs characters who have experienced trauma, allowing them to relate to each other and help each other heal.

To me, it seems that SJM isn't overly concerned with how one character feels about another, as the plot is the primary focus. Throughout her books, she has portrayed pairs that start at opposite ends of the spectrum and end up in completely different places. What matters to SJM is how well-matched and similar her planned couples are. She's not necessarily changing her formula; rather, she's now emphasizing why Gwyn is perfect for Az and why Lucien is perfect for Elain, something that was lacking in both ToG and CC

The main takeaway from the series for me is that both Cassian and Rhys have reached a level of self-assurance where they can accept their own flaws. It's simply a matter of finding someone who can accept them for who they are.

It's significant to note that both Cassian and Rhys have expressed their fears but haven't shied away from sharing them with their partners. Az explicitly states in his BC that he's afraid to open up to Elain, and I don't believe it's Elain's responsibility to reassure him. That's something Azriel needs to work through on his own.

The dynamics between Azriel and Gwyn are different. Azriel refrains from touching Gwyn not because he fears tainting her but because he's aware of her discomfort with physical contact. He finds solace in Gwyn's presence and is less focused on his insecurities when he's with her compared to when he's alone with Elain.

Azriel's behavior towards Gwyn aligns more with mate behavior. He constantly considers her comfort, abilities, strengths, goals, and reactions, which was lacking in his interactions with Elain.

HOFAS spoilers ahead

We have ample evidence that Az is refusing to embrace his Illyrian heritage, only to discover that the Illyrians rebelled against the Daglans, and he wields the weapon of the Illyrian who led that rebellion—a figure now idolized and memorialized. This revelation is a tremendous burden for Az to bear, especially considering his struggle to see any merit in being Illyrian.

This is a unique struggle that Elain doesn't share. Despite her transformation into a fae, she doesn't exhibit resentment towards her new identity, as evidenced by her active involvement in aiding fae readjustment post-war, similar to Lucien's efforts with humans. Both Elain and Lucien initially harbored prejudiced views towards each other, yet they've both made strides in overcoming these biases.

Elain's main challenge lies in grappling with her mating bond, a struggle Az can't fully comprehend given his intense desire for such a bond. Lucien, on the other hand, was willing to wed without a bond, highlighting another difference in experiences.

While Lucien also deserves to have his story told, it's evident that SJM is currently emphasizing Az's narrative. This suggests that Azriel's journey is distinct from Elain's.

Az deserves to have his story told alongside someone who truly understands him, someone who has decided to step out of the shadows despite the comfort they offer and who comprehends his struggles, particularly regarding his hands.

As for the timing of when to tell Azriel's story, that's a discussion for another time. As a strong supporter of Elucien, I believe Elain's absence in HOFAS indicates that their narrative is next in line to fill the gaps between Nesta's ability to remove the mask to save Feyre and Azriel's need for her to list those she loves.

Nesta's relationship with Elain has yet to fully mend, unlike the understanding reached between Nesta and Feyre by the end of ACOSF as demonstrated by Feyre's support in HOFAS.

Therefore, the question of whose story comes next remains uncertain for me, but fortunately, we won't have to wait long for the next announcement.

[autisticlee]

I have realized I need more friends, especially a specific type of friend (chill, positive, very nice and gentle, shares interest in my interests, etc) so I've been putting a lot of time and effort and energy into trying to make a new friend, but I don't think it's working D: I genuinely don't know how to do it. I used to ask people if we can be friends but learned thats not correct and even got called creepy for it before...so i'm just exhausting myself for no reason because nothing is being reciprocated the way I want or need it to be.

i'm trying to learn about the person and tailoring my scripts to match them and what they seem to like about people they are friends with. but so far i'm not getting much reaction outside of general kind acknowledgment that all random strangers get. i'm trying so hard not to ramble or rant about anything or be "too negative" like i've been called many times for simply stating a related/relatable fact about myself. i'm trying to ask questions more questions like ive been told to do. i'm saying nice and positive things whenever I get the chance like i always do. i'm doing all the things people have advised me to do when ive asked advice, but it still feels like i'm looking through a window and not allowed to walk through the door! but see everyone else getting invited inside. I genuinely don't know what to do and how to make it better 🥲

when I look back in the past and how I made friends or starter talking to people, it always came from trauma bonding....often it would start from or be carried along by a shared interest, but one of the dominating factors was always trauma bonding and ramling and ranting at each other about the trauma we have gone through that relates to each other. I felt like I needed it at the time and felt like it helped, but now i've reached a point where it's too exhausting to go through repeated exposure to trauma stories and reexperiencing ny own traumas. plus it usually ends in failure and me adding more trauma to my plate because they have issues and lash them out at me, or decide they are upset that I have my own issues they trigger, and I do not want to do that anymore.

I don't want to befriend people through or to trauma bond. I don't want to befriend people who only want to talk about negative things or people who bring out those things in me. I want some positive and chill and fun friends. but I genuinely do not know how else to make friends. I don't know how to do it right. I don't know how to talk to people correctly. I don't know how to do any of this without trauma dumping/ l listening to trauma dumping and using that as the gateway to form friendships.

I don't know how to have friends that don't share same interests either, but I have realized that's only part of it. that part is fine I think. maybe that's the normal part. (it's my autistic intensity that's the "not normal" part and losing friends as soon as one of us loses that interest) but how do I befriend someone positively off of similar interests only, and not drop my dark lore or avoid letting them drop their dark lore and using that as the bridge? I simply can't figure out how to connect with people in any other way than the whole "I understand what you're going through/you're not alone/I'm here for you/this is a safe space you can come to" thing I tried building up my whole life. but that's only been exhausting and leads to dead ends.

I don't know how to form strong and positive connections with other humans, despite following every tutorial and advice I could find. I even tried heavily masking and learned I'm just no good at it, and I can't figure out if i've acted myself out of a personality, or if it's just a dissociative disorder causing me to have like 20 different ones (working with therapist now who is evaluating me for osdd/did because she says my dissociative levels are concerning. and honestly i feel like part if not all of it is due to my negative people experiences....so i really need positive ones!) i've been trying to keep all my rambles and rants and negative thoughts and feelings to this blog only. i'm not here on this blog to make friends. this is purely for me and myself and I. if anyone relates they are welcome to reply/comment or send an ask and share, but i'm not going to pursue a friendship over it.

I only want to accept positive and chill and fun friendships over my special interests and smaller interests (I have a whole other blog for just those) BUT I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT. NOTHING ANYONE TELLS ME WORKS. i'm trying so hard to bond over interests with people but just cannot form any connections no matter how hard I try. it remains me being the only one to ever reach out and give (time/energy/attention/etc) while they can easily have 4747373 other friends and people they enjoy and care about and talk to and hang out with. so I don't think it's them. it has to be me. (I've had people saying it's not me, it's the people I try to talk to and I need to find other people. or even "the right people" but i'm not told how to do that or what it means. and i've spent years flipping through people like clothes on a rack and it's so tiring!!!!!)

don't know know what to do or how to do it, but need human interaction and genuine strong connection and can't force self stop craving that ���😭😭😭😭

[totally-sick-blogger]

Disability representation in Bob's Burgers

This is going to be a long post so buckle up and perhaps grab a snack

I am neurodivergent and physically disabled and Bob's Burgers is one of my two special interests so I feel very qualified to talk about this so let's just dive right in

In ~ my opinion ~ Bob's Burgers is one of the best shows overall in terms of disability and LGBTQ+ representation. Still, Today we'll be focusing specifically on disability rep and I'll be breaking it down by character and we'll be discussing both canon and implied disabled characters.

Tina Belcher - Tina is headcanoned by many (including myself) as being Autistic, as many of us autistic people find her extremely relatable and a lot of her symptoms to be obvious. She has a very hard time making and maintaining friendships with people besides her siblings, she does not understand most social situations, all of her "friends" besides Zeke are mean to her but never realize that they're being mean to her unless Louise points it out. She also displays heavy and intense interest in horses, and romance, which many see as her special interests. She also frequently stims both physically and orally; this is especially prevalent when she's in situations that she finds stressful. She's also known not to understand jokes or sarcasm (there's literally an entire episode with this as a running side plot, see season 7 episode 15) she also frequently tries to act like someone she's not and pretend to take interest in things she doesn't actually like in an attempt to make friends (see season 13 episode 14). There's also an entire two-part episode where she's a robot who's pretending to be human which was meant to be an allegory for her masking and she and Bob have an entire song dedicated to them feeling like they're unlikable and not knowing how to be "normal" and I find it painfully relatable and it has me in tears every time I watch that episode (season 12 episodes 21 and 22). The common argument against Tina being autistic is that within the first 5 minutes of the very first episode, there's a joke about Tina being autistic and Bob says "You're not autistic Tina" but my argument against this is that the Belcher family canonically does not have much money and getting diagnosed is very expensive. (also the entire family is very neurodivergent so it wouldn't shock me if no one in the family noticed that she was autistic)

Bob - Bob displays a lot of the same behaviours as Tina but also tends to be portrayed as the classical undiagnosed adult autistic man. He also has a strong tendency to personify and give names to objects such as his spatula; this however can be a sign of autism or childhood trauma which we also know that he has as it's showed and explained on many occasions that his childhood wasn't super great since his mother died when he was a young boy and his dad was not great at parenting and was showed to care more about his restaurant than his son.

Linda - Linda again is the classic undiagnosed adult auDHD woman. She's very hyper-active, and tries really hard to control situations but not in a malicious way. she needs everything to be perfect all of the time and takes extreme measures to make that happen which usually wind up making the situation worse (see season 1 episode 7)

Gene - Gene (in my opinon) clearly has ADHD. He's forgetful, can't get himself to do activities that aren't of his immediate interest, day dreams a lot and his very very extroverted. (Though not all ADHDers are extroverted). He also has a very hard time with rejection sensitivity which is common in people with ADHD.

Teddy - Teddy is the Belchers best customer and close family friend. He also displays symptoms of autism but on a more "severe" level than other characters mentioned. He eats the exact same thing for lunch every day at the exact same time, and literally has a breakdown if that changes without warning. He also has no social skills, is easily manipulated and has strong attachment issues particularily towards Bob and Linda. Also he's a hoarder but I'm not sure if that's relevant to this.

Gayle - I'm not really sure what's going on with Gayle or where to start with her but she definitely has some stuff going on in her brain.

Jimmy jr - Jimmy jr has a speed impediment and often displays his frustrations with his dad who wants him to go to speech therapy and get rid of his speech problems even though he'd rather spend his time pursuing his dreams of being a dancer.

Benji - Benji is a character who appears in a season 13 episode. He's a student in Louise's grade who uses a wheelchair and has a passion for puppetry and loves Jim Henson; though his mother would rather that he took wheelchair basketball lessons. (Also, fun fact: the voice actor for Benji also voices a disabled character on Sesame street, who's puppets were originally crafted by Jim Henson)

This post is already long enough so I'll stop here but I could go on for ages about this subject. I hope you all learned something and feel free to add to the conversation in the comments. Remember that some of these are just opinions and you're aloud to disagree.

Have a great eveing lovies and if you made it this far thank you for reading <3

[cosmicgendershifter]

So Our Flag Means Death often functions as a metaphor where piracy represents the film industry. Ed is the burnt-out superstar actor/director, Stede is the wealthy but fumbling newcomer full of creative ideas, and Izzy is the power-hungry manager who fails to find success on his own. The crew represents the various support people in filmmaking, while the colonial powers represent the capitalistic system that does so much damage in so many parts of the modern world.

The traumatic nature of fame is explored in-depth throughout the show, including commentary on how people coming into places like Hollywood have often been inspired by family-related trauma, are running from more "typical" lives that they couldn't have survived, and continue reliving their past traumas in their current situations. There's a strong indication that Ed has had to mask his true self to fit the image expected of him as a celebrity. The inclusion of queerness/neurodivergence, I think, both reflects how many "atypical" people work in the arts and indicates how Stede's methods are more welcoming.

What I find interesting is how this topic is addressed with a further layer of metaphor through the curse of the red suit in season two episode five. The suit represents fame and the trauma that surrounds it, specifically following Ed's violent breakdown. The crew has seen the repurcussions of working in this industry too long firsthand now, and they are having A Response to it.

(GIF Source: skulandcrossbones)

Stede still wants to be the celebrity. He's waltzing around in that suit with massive queer flamboyance, and he's loving it. He doesn't think the trauma is going to be a problem for him. Izzy doesn't seem to believe the trauma should put people off of working to become successful/famous in this industry, but he also recognizes that things need to change for the crew to keep functioning.

Jim was the character who seemed the most clearsighted about what was happening during Ed's breakdown, probably because they've had similar experiences with trauma and masking and its mental health impacts thanks to Nana pushing them to "succeed", and they are also the first one to hear about and react to the cursed suit. Archie and Oluwande side with Jim. Frenchie, Roach, and Wee John take longer to recognize the problem, but they do get there.

Meanwhile, Fang, Ed, Lucius, and Pete are having more direct reckonings with fame-triggered trauma. Fang and Ed discuss Fang's choice to move on from both their actions, and Lucius has already expressed that "some people are just broken," which I think may be a reference to himself now too. They cope through sitting quietly with their feelings, connecting and celebrating with loved ones, making different kinds of art, and seeking a bit of retributive justice. (Though that last one is somewhat satisfying, it doesn't fix the trauma or the relationships.)

Stede finally comes around to the idea that he needs to let go of the suit for the crew's sake, which is foreshadowing for this season! He does keep a more muted version of the outfit, though: his delightful red-and-black ruffly shirt. Ed later compliments that shirt (he thinks Stede wears his own work/fame-seeking well 🥺), leading to their romantic moment on deck. So maybe the culture Stede is building for his metaphorical filmmaking work is okay, since it differs from the trauma-steeped fame full of abuse that Ed has been through as Blackbeard.

Now, I know the show does generally present the curse of the suit as a silly concept--except. Except magical things do happen on this show, like with Buttons. Except the Spaniards who first had the suit did look like they'd been through hell. Except demonic, haunting whispers do accompany the suit on its first and last appearances. I think the writers thus indicate that the curse (Hollywood fame being traumatic in our modern culture) is real--maybe only for people who aren't Stede, or maybe for everyone. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Who can say? Stede didn't stick with the typical way of doing things long enough to find out.

[lefluoritesys]

TW: ableism, discrimination, eating disorders, strong opinions

"Oh, DID/OSDD is so difficult to understand, though!"

The more I live with it, the more I realize that no, it isn't. The problem here isn't that DID/OSDD is a "difficult" disorder, the real problem here is people refuse to understand that things apart from what they're used to are also, in fact, normal. They come up with excuses for why they can't understand it and attempt to push it down due to ignorance and plain lack of desire to actually make an effort to understand (which is, by the way, manipulative).

It's as easy as coming up to someone and saying you have a common physical medical condition. You don't have to understand it fully to realize that same person with asthma has limited physical abilities and needs an inhaler from time to time. Or that someone with allergies can't eat certain foods. Or that a person in a wheelchair most likely cannot walk at all. For singlets, there is no "digging deep into it to understand," this "understanding" of disorders is something we came up with as an excuse to brush off other people's experiences.

"I just don't understand why the littlest of things can send you into a breakdown," said to people with BPD, autism, ADHD, etc.

"Why is this noise bothering you so much? It doesn't bother me. I just can't relate," said to people with misophonia and sensory issues.

"Why can't I talk about this? How can it even be a trigger?" said to a person with PTSD/C-PTSD, and continued talking and mentioning said thing.

"Why can't you get out of bed? I just don't understand you. You have so much stuff to get done, so many things to look forward to! I think you're just being lazy." said to a person with depression.

"Why are you so worried about your weight? You look amazing! I wish I had as much self-control as you do and look like you! You should feel lucky for knowing when to stop eating!" said to a person with an eating disorder(s).

It's as easy as avoiding a subject because the other person doesn't want to talk about it. It's as easy as explaining your actions a little more and clarifying your words in a conversation because the other person is more sensitive to rejection/certain topics. It's as easy as coming up to someone and going "Hey, I do not like this thing. Can you stop doing it/do it differently?" "Yeah, sure, thank you for telling me!"

And it's as easy to understand DID/OSDD as saying "Hey, I have multiple (semi-)distinct personalities called alters, AKA alternative states of identity, all of them are different people with different roles to keep the body alive. They formed during my childhood due to prolonged/repeated trauma, and they keep that trauma away from me. Together, we are called a system." "Okay, cool! I accept you for who you are. Although, I haven't had experience with systems before, so I would need to learn. I will be patient with you, and I hope you can be patient with me. Walk me through it?"

I used to think that my DID/OSDD was difficult for people to understand, and I drowned in the thoughts of how much of a burden I was to singlets. Or, really, everybody in that case, because that wasn't just about my DID but any medical condition we have. We used to mask as a singlet even around people who we came out to, and they seemed more comfortable with us going by our deadname and pretending to be one rather than who we are, claiming they just feel "weird" and "awkward" because they don't have other friends like that. Until I began realizing that the only reason people don't "understand" is because they simply don't want to.

Yes, you may not get something right off the bat. And that's okay. But it isn't difficult to understand. You are not difficult to understand. It's other people who are ignorant enough to make you feel like crap to avoid being a little open-minded and kind. It just lies a little out of their comfort zone where they have stayed comfortably their entire lives.

It is that easy. It is that simple. Only thing you have to do is hear the other person out when they're talking about their DID/OSDD. Negotiate and/or find compromises when necessary. Learn, research, interact, ask questions, and most importantly, take it as it is. No questions asked unless they are clarification and curiosity. If you have questions you count as disrespectful or out of line, either keep them to yourself or warn the system about them and give clarification on what you meant. Give trigger warnings.

You are not difficult for having a disorder or a medical condition. It's other people who are difficult due to their ignorance.

[shera-dnd]

I got the game Soulstice for free in the Epic Game Store like ages ago and finally decided to play it

AND OH BOY

That was not what I was expecting and I mean that entirely as a compliment

Game feels like a lower budget Devil May Cry. The aesthetic is beautiful, the world is fantastic, the story is cheesy at times but still really good, and I'm simply in love with the two main characters

The gameplay is a bit rough around the edges. Like it's very clear this is this dev team's first attempt at making this type of game, but they have plenty of interesting ideas and takes on classic mechanics that will only get better as they gain more experience

Not sure if that has been announced yet, but I'm fully convinced that Soulstice 2 is gonna be a fucking banger

Anyways I highly recommend this game to anyone who loves dark fantasy and has an itching for some good DMC-like action

But well this is my blog and y'all know what I'm about.

IT'S TIME FOR THOSE SEXY FUCKING THEMES BABY!

short version: this is a story about relationships and how people help each other survive their shared trauma

Like our main characters are a scarred warrior and the ghost of her little sister! LIKE SHE'S LITERALLY HAUNTED BY HER DEAD SISTER! THIS AIN'T SUBTLE!

ANYWAYS

Now it's time for the long version under the cut, so be weary of spoilers!

Alright let's do some set up here

Okay so our girls, Briar and Lute, are a "chimera" which in this setting means two souls placed into a single body

So guess what the shared trauma that those two have to get over is THE DEATH OF EVERYONE THEY KNOW INCLUDING THEMSELVES

And that's the trauma all chimeras in the game suffered. They all had to die to become what they are now. They all suffered and they were all changed by that suffering

And to top it all off, every chimera at some point will become so changed by their transformation that they'll lose all sense of the person they were before and turn into a destructive monster

This is known as transcendence, and every chimera would rather die than transcend

AND THAT, MY GOOD BITCH, IS THE CENTER OF MY ARGUMENT HERE

Because we see plenty of transcended throughout the game. The 3 big bosses of the game are all transcended chimera, all people who are just like our protagonist. People who were changed by their trauma and lost themselves to it

And the thing is Briar and Lute transcend too, but instead of it consuming them and turning them into a monster, it makes them stronger.

And why the fuck is that? well, it's because of the way they deal each deal with their trauma and how they relate to each other

Like Jared and Jadon

They straight up DON'T deal with their trauma. They don't unpack shit. They just try to move forward, act tough, and be loud and boastful.

When they transcend that's all that remains of them. Their humanity is lost, replaced only with that drive to never stop moving, never stop fighting, be loud, be strong, take on the next challenge, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Armina and Damian are somehow even worse. They're entirely fueled by spite and a sense of superiority. They hate each other and their hate is what keeps them going, that and the act they put on of being better than each other

When they transcend they get consumed by their self destructive tendencies, fighting for control over their body and constantly belittling each other. Hell their transcended form literally features a pair of hands wrapped around their own neck

THIS ISN'T FUCKING SUBTLE!

Then there's Donovan and Hannah. By the triarchy, these two

Donovan, the good and kind father who clung desperately to his dying daughter. Clung so tightly in fact that all he did was prolong her suffering. He held on until Hannah's death consumed and destroyed him

Donovan is a mindless being in this transcended form, only Hannah's pain and resentment remains

So in short, they all suck. They hide their pain and cling to these masks, and these toxic relationships. They refuse to change until change becomes inevitable and fully consumes them

And so they're all destroyed by their own pain

And sure they're antagonists, but the story constantly asks you to understand them and their pain. None of them are like this because they wanted to, none of them became monsters by their own choice. None of them chose to suffer this trauma

And neither did Briar and Lute

They constantly talk about the pain of becoming a chimera, of how this change was forced upon them and how it was never their choice

They feel like they're less than human and that they can never go back to who they once were

They too are on the path to transcendence

But the difference is that Lute and Briar make each other stronger. They help each other move forward and even deal with the past trauma that led to their new existence

Hell your major power upgrades are straight up locked behind flashback sequences in which they confront the events that led to their death and subsequent rebirth as a chimera

Not to mention that they have other people to help them deal with their crap. They have Layton (begrudgingly) and Donovan (for a bit) to help them process everything that has happened and IS happening to them

And in the end our girls realize that... yeah, this sucks. They got changed by forces beyond their control and made to suffer for it

But that doesn't have to define who they are and what they do. Their trauma changed them, but it isn't all that they are

They support each other through the pain and when they transcend it's (for the first time) by their own choice

They accepted their pain, they confronted their trauma, and they chose to change. So unlike every single other transcended in the game, they get to remain themselves, they may look different but they're still Briar and Lute

their deaths, their transformation, their pain

None of it gets to decide who they are

And my god does that lead to a lovely ending sequence

Genuinely cannot wait to see what comes next for these two as they go after the people behind all that pain and try to help more of their fellow chimera

so uh... yeah. Cool game

[avoidantrecovery]

i'm trying to put my new "thoughts" and "findings" about AvPD into words and coherent sentences and i find it nearly impossible. i have a plan, i want to try something new, but i don't know how to explain it all. maybe i can try a list:

disclaimer: this is just a list with things i want to do for myself not medical advice or some tried and tested key on how to solve avpd or anything like that 😭

i noticed that many who suffer with AvPD have an extremely negative view of themselves (their "self" if you will) including me of course

our "self" was wounded through trauma, abuse, neglect, being ostracized or abandoned etc...

the fear, inhibition, anxiety, feeling unappealing, etc... we struggle with is a result of having a self that is wounded, not the personality in of itself

moving through this world with a "self" that is not strong enough to support us causes us to appear that way

we internalized our abusers view of ourselves, leading to the "wounded self" and extremely negative view of self

and that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy since a wounded self leads to avoidance, retreat and isolation

it's just natural to want to protect yourself and feel safe if you feel your "self" is so fragile and makes you easily attackable

but that then leads to more feelings of inadequacy which leads to more avoidance etc...

the relational self atrophies over time and we feel worse as time goes on

i wrote about that here and also here

but still, there is no point in superficially forming connections with people (be they friendships, jobs, relationships, etc...) without taking care of that wounded self first

if the wounded self isn't, i don't want to use the word "healed" here, but let's say filled with more positive view of itself, all that happens is that you take the negative view of self wherever you go

wherever you go, there you are, as they say

it simply leads to self-sabotage, ghosting and feelings of inadequacy etc... just in a new surrounding

or you mask up in order to fit in, which is not tenable over time

especially with relationships you will sooner or later have to reveal your truly vulnerable side, which requires shedding of the mask, which is when people with AvPD usually bail

if anything those are the stories of AvPD that scare me the most, people who through sheer grit and hard work manage to reach their goals and then end up abandoning it all, because nothing has changed and the feelings of adequacy are still there and they can only keep up the facade for so long

people quit jobs they worked hard to get, ghost their friends and dump loving partners to return to the solitude and isolation they think they deserve (due to the negative self view)

so what is to do?

the "self" needs to be strengthened, but how do that?

this is also about mitigating shame

for once i have a bit of a plan: i believe that our sense of self consists in part of our own self-view, but also of the feedback we get from the outside world in regards to said "self"

i wrote about that here

the relational self has to be propped up and filled up with positive feedback we get from the outside world

genuine positive feedback to override the negative views the self holds about itself

this has to be done over and over again until it sticks

one part is of course how i self-talk and think/envision myself.

things like mindfulness, self-care (not through products, but genuine things i do for myself) etc...

the other part is the outside world

i'm still trying to figure out how to do this while also mitigating possible negative feedback i could receive

since there is no controlling what others do or feel

i don't think that is ever the point, in fact it is important to get away from the idea of thinking one can control others through our behaviour

either way, negative feedback does not mean their feedback has to be internalized, no?

and knowing how to handle the negative feedback one might get is crucial, as to not further entrench the negative self view and make things worse

but i think the idea of overriding the old (negative view) neural pathways is crucial

and it can be the smallest of small steps, just as long as something is happening

at least that is my plan for now so turn that negative self view into something more positive, one neural pathway at a time

i want to set some goals for myself for every week

sensible goals to slowly dig myself out of this hole

🥲😮‍💨

[razzberrydazz]

It's been a hot minute, and in that time I have revised my neurodivergence and mental illness headcanon analysis for the BG3 cast! All of them have trauma there's no way any of them are mentally well. NONE of them are mentally fully well, being an adventurer is traumatic in and of itself.

Original version I made of this post here. Some things still apply, some things I've thought further on and have changed my mind about. I know Minthara and Orin's characters way better for one.

Everyone in the cast has trauma, I mean everyone.

It'd be easier to list the characters that DON'T have PTSD than list the ones that do - Halsin, Jaheira, Minsc, Gale, Mizora, Gortash, Ketheric, Isobel, and the Emperor DON'T have PTSD in my opinion and observations. Trauma yes, but not to the point of PTSD. The rest of the main companions, Minthara, Orin, Dark Urge, and Dame Aylin absolutely have PTSD. Some are more serious and obvious cases than others - Astarion, Karlach, and the Dark Urge/Durge have the most glaring examples.

My take that Shadowheart, Astarion, and Durge all have BPD still stands and applies. Also adding Orin to this. Their various fears of abandonment, maladaptive coping skills, chronic feelings of emptiness, unstable relations, mood swings, depression, extreme rage, intrusive thoughts (especially Durge), all make BPD make sense to me. Shadowheart being a more internal 'quiet' subdued iteration, and Astarion being a more external petulant iteration. Orin and Durge having similar presentations of BPD but Durge is self-aware about it and Orin isn't.

Durge has the worst case of BPD of the main cast, to the point of intrusive thoughts (ie the Urge) so visceral and loud they constitute an auditory hallucination. Durge having what constitute black out rages where they commit atrocities, and depending on how you play, either feel extreme remorse or lean into the bloodbath. Durge experiencing paranoia and homicidal ideation, experiencing stress-induced hallucinations, is aware of their paranoia and delusions but their awareness doesn't make it better. Their rage and intrusive thoughts so strong that it's the undercurrent of every thought, every emotion, their default being rage or emptiness and having to mask that aspect at all times so that they may not even realize that's the emotion they're feeling. Splitting on people and having violent intrusive thoughts about them and not knowing why.

I also think Dark Urge/Durge has OCD, it makes absolute sense that their Urge as their intrusive thoughts is the manifestation of that obsession, and their actions taken both resisting and embracing the Urge as the compulsions. A redeemed Durge resisting the Urge as compulsions to avoid said actions - having their companions tie them up to avoid hurting others, telling others about their thoughts (and being dismissed about them), resisting the urge acting as an opposite action coping technique to combat the obsession. The blurted out macabre phrases perhaps being part of their compulsion to ease the obsessive intrusive thoughts. The thoughts being disturbing - violent, bloody, homicidal, disgusting. Self loathing and shame cycle for having said thoughts in the first place.

Gale, Lae'Zel, Shadowheart, Halsin, Minsc, Orin, Minthara, and Dame Aylin all read as autistic-coded to me. All varying levels and ways of expressing said autism, some more obvious than others. Shadowheart probably doesn't know she's autistic because she's been taught and forced to mask so intensely. Gale and Lae'Zel as differing expressions of autism that while not identical, compliment each other nicely. Gale and Lae'Zel infodumping to each other about their various special interests and hyperfixations. Lae'Zel, Minthara, Halsin, Minsc, and Dame Aylin all having that fish out of water cultural moments of missing social cues and being ill-fitted to the culture they find themselves in. Dame Aylin and Minsc having loud boisterous manners of speaking where they're not aware of their own volume or peculiarities. Dame Aylin having extreme empathy and over-emotes, while Minthara and Lae'Zel have flatter affectations and lower empathy - doesn't mean they're without compassion. Halsin's dislike of the noise and sensory experience of the city and both him and Aylin feeling very rigid in their morals.

I also think OCD could fit Shadowheart, specifically religious OCD where she has compulsions to pray and denounce Selune to appease the obsession of feeling watched by Shar at all times. Depends on the fic I'm writing whether she fully has this or not.

Karlach absolutely has ADHD, like The most ADHD-coded one of the bunch, hyperactive type all the way. Shadowheart could also have ADHD (inattentive type) comorbid with the autism and BPD issues. Makes sense for Shadowheart to have ADHD like her actress Jennifer English. Shadowheart my beautiful princess with a disorder. Also makes sense for Minsc to have comorbid ADHD with autism imo. Maybe don't use Boo as a stim toy tho, big guy. Ya know what? Wyll has ADHD, but is better at masking it than others, because I say so.

Halsin, Gale, Ketheric, and Wyll absolutely have depression. Gale's suicidal ideation is concerning and needs to be addressed. Ketheric is eternally grieving, he can't let go of the deaths of his loved ones to the point that it becomes a sunk cost fallacy gone too far with him turning to Shar and Myrkul. Halsin has 'high' functioning depression, as does Wyll, where they're able to mask it better than others, so it may not be immediately obvious they're depressed. Wyll and Gale compensating for the depression and masking it with humor and deflections.

Karlach, Dame Aylin, Lae'Zel, and Durge all have anger issues. Karlach and Durge's anger issues being the worst, with Karlach literally going on a fiery raging rampage and Durge having black out rages due to the Urge. Dame Aylin so overcome with anger that she does overkill with Ketheric and Lorroakan. Lae'Zel being the mildest of the bunch but still being quick to anger because the toxic militaristic upbringing primed her to answer with violence.

A lot of the above conditions also come with a helping of anxiety as par for the course, tho I don't really think any of them have anxiety as its own separate diagnosis from what I can gather.

My take that Gortash has OCPD still stands, as does my take on the Emperor and illithids in general tending to be manipulative and self-aggrandizing. I waffle between whether I prefer Orin with NPD or BPD because I think while she's self-aggrandizing and wants approval severely, her fear of abandonment or disapproval by Bhaal also is a big factor. Orin having NPD works as a Foil to Durge having BPD.

Jaheira is the hardest to pin down for me, she reads as avoidant attachment style and masks behind humor so she could have depression, though I do know for sure she has trauma and is still grieving her husband Khalid's death all these years later. Ironically the most well-adjusted one of the bunch.

Gortash is traumatized from his upbringing, but masks that trauma and uses it as justification to be cruel to others, repeating the abuse cycle. Insert my ramble about how to me BG3 is about cycles of abuse and the choice to repeat the cycle or break it here.

Anything not otherwise mentioned is the same take as my previous post on this, or I simply forgot, which is possible. Thanks for reading my ramblings if you've gotten this far!

[bluegumballmf]

Dog i watched this analysis over cloud strife's mental illness and perception and lowkey it got me thinking about naz

Like

i know at first glance he's perceived like this edgy emo aloof mf type, but like He's really not he's just extremely socially awkward and even a little stunted

And it relates back to the video in the sense that cloud has this false persona that he takes up to make himself seem stronger and as a coping mechanism And ngl that reminds me of naz too because in the stasis arc he has to toughen up and ascend past mortality so he can unstigmatize stasis, even if he didn't want to

So like Cloud pretends to be a genetically modified state of the art SOLDIER and Naz pretends to be a natural deity and it becomes a coping mechanism for both of them, to the point where they lose their sense of self

And both have ptsd, that presents itself in really similar ways

Like

aloof usually

struggles with social cues

typically pushes loved ones away if hurt

reverts to masking if perceived to be in harm

and then like both of them have to work to be able to let their facades fall down and both of them are kind of a deconstruction of the "cool strong aloof protagonist" because while they can be strong and they can be aloof, in the end they're both country boys who grew up with mental illnesses and never recovered while gaining more trauma and mental illnesses

And also like they have to work to even trust people that deem themselves as their friends because their sense of trust is so damaged that it's hard to take people like that at face value

Add in the fact that Naz can't save myn no matter what he does and Cloud can't save aerith no matter what he does, and we have ourselves another parallel

also the fact that in advent children/ in Naz’s canon,

cloud struggles with geostigmatism, which i tend to perceive as a chronic pain problem.

Naz also has a sort of chronic pain problem, in the form of stasis chains, as well as tremors.

The way they both deal with these issues is similar too, with cloud isolating himself from his family, and Naz isolating himself from everyone else. They both don’t feel worthy enough to rely on anyone else for help with their struggle, as some people with mental illness are known to do, myself included. Moving away from this and back to my other point about masking, they are shown to occasionally let their own personality shown through the cracks of their mask and it’s entirely different then the one they’ve built up.

for instance; cloud is a little dorky and sarcastic, and honestly seems a little shy at times.

meanwhile naz is more playful and gentle, extremely caring and affectionate when in a space where he can’t keep up the mask.

idk they just. Remind me so much of eachother.

[vivianseda]

Thank you Em from Neuro Wild

“I've had a few conversations about screentime recently so I thought I would share this again.

Many autistic people use screens as an essential regulation tool. This is because the world can be pretty hard and overwhelming. If your kid is super distressed and overwhelmed when screens are turned off, this may indicate that the reality they are returning to is really rough.

Your way forward is to try and make things easier and less dysregulating for them. Start with removing neurotypical expectations. Explore regulation tools and strategies, reduce sensory overwhelm, address masking, and help them find joy.

Try and understand that screens are not just a single activity or interest, but rather a gateway to a huge variety of opportunities.

Note: not all Autistic people will necessarily relate to screens the same way. Everyone has individual preferences and interests.

Note: people who are not Autistic may relate to much of this. Other neurodivergent people may find this comic very relevant.

Note: many people have strong opinions about screen time. If you are someone who keeps their kids off screens, that’s fine. If you are someone who lets their kids use screens, that’s fine. If this info is useful to you, great. If it isn’t, that’s fine.

Do let me know if this was useful to you.

Em ☺️✌️🌈

AuDHD SLP

......................

Image descriptions from Community Access (Captions, Transcripts, Image Descriptions):

All slides have the NeuroWild logo at the bottom right corner, which uses a playful font. The bottom left and top right points of the N have cartoon leaves attached, as does the top left point of the W and the top point of the d. There is a small plant to the left of the word and a small flower to the right.

Slide 1: Let’s talk about SCREENTIME for Autistic Folk. (Drawing of a smiling animal rowing a boat on tranquil blue water.)

Slide 2: Every person experiences the world differently. It can be hard to imagine another person’s experience, especially when others have different brains & sensory processing systems to you. Your experience might be like this… (same drawing of a smiling animal rowing)

Slide 3: And another person’s might be like this. (Drawing of a mouse trying to swim with its nose and mouth barely above waving water. There is part of the head and tentacles of a jellyfish visible to the bottom left, and part of the tentacles of another jellyfish visible to the center right.) Autistic people often experience the world differently. Sensory input is often too intense, emotions can be all consuming, societal expectations feel impossible, and the world often seems uncaring & ableist.

Slide 4: Some of us are able to keep swimming. Many are too tired from treading water. Some of us sink. (Same picture of the mouse with seven jellyfish of various sizes now hanging on to its torso and tail. From left to right, the jellyfish are labeled “Emotional Dysregulation,” “Neurotypical Expectations,” “Sensory Overload,” “Social Pressure,” “Masking,” “Trauma,” and “Mental Exhaustion.”)

Slide 5: (Text against a full page of water with columns of bubbles on the left and right.) Where does SCREENTIME come into it?

Slide 6: For many of us, screentime is a break from treading water. It’s a chance to breathe. (Picture of a full page of water with the mouse inside a bubble smiling and holding a tablet. The jellyfish are outside the bubble.)

Slide 7: (Text against a full page of water, same picture of the mouse inside a bubble at the upper left.)

Screentime

Gives us control in a world that is often chaotic

Lets us explore new worlds, roles, & power dynamics that are otherwise unavailable to us.

Lets us connect with likeminded people who share our interests.

Lets us explore our deep interests and develop new skills.

Can bring us comfort & deep joy.

Gives us access to communities where we feel like we belong.

Lets us learn, create, & socialise without the expectation for eye contact or verbal speech.

Slide 8: (Text against a full page of water.)

Let’s examine common parent concerns through a different lens.

My kid is addicted to screens. (arrow) My kid finds screens to be a really effective way of taking a break & regulating.

My kid has a meltdown when I make them turn it off. (arrow) My kid finds it really distressing when their regulation tool is removed suddenly, or before they’re ready.

You can’t just waste all your time on screens, & miss out on real life. (arrow) My kid finds the world overwhelming. Screens are a powerful regulation tool that we can utilise. We also do our best to remove the jellyfish from their ocean.

Regulation tools are essential. We can’t tread water forever.

Slide 9: (Text against a full page of light water with scattered bubbles at the borders.)

Tips for screen time

Give warning about upcoming transitions, e.g. ‘Dinner in 10 minutes. Screens will be turned off.’ ‘Turning off in 5 minutes. How many minutes?’ ‘Time for dinner. Are you able to save it/pause it there?’

(star) At this point, adult flexibility & empathy is encouraged. (star)

Your child may be a few minutes away from a save point/end of level/song/video. Having their screen turned off at this moment is likely to be very distressing. Asking them how much longer they need can be a good way to teach time management & planning skills (i.e. learning to choose a short video at the 5-min warning)

Giving those extra few minutes makes the transition easier, and reinforces the message that the child’s feelings are important to their adult.”

[ifwebefriends]

dude . . . that post where you said you liked nagito not because he's a depressed uwu bad boy but a traumatized complex cancer patient . . . we are the same lmao i literally made a research paper on his overall condition. very interesting case study ngl

That’s so cool! I’d be interested in reading your paper if you’re comfortable sharing. It’s nice to see that not everyone boils Nagito down to a generic bad boy tumblr sexyman. I actually have a lot of feelings about him and how he affected me personally because I can relate to him in a weird kinda hyperbolic way.

Okay it’s trauma dump time now strap yourself in. (TW suicide, cancer, COVID-19, needles, medical treatment)

I’m actually a cancer survivor myself (stage 4 breast cancer diagnosed in July 2020) and because of COVID and cancer I took a gap year in my education (I had just graduated high school and was set to start college) to go through treatment, so I had a lot of time on my hands to play video games and watch TV shows. So I ended up playing Danganronpa 1 and 2 in like October through November of 2020 (I would have played V3 then too but I didn’t have access to it yet).

When I first started chemotherapy in August of that year I tried to stay optimistic, hopeful, and cheery about everything, I didn’t want people to worry and pity me (right after my diagnosis, the most painful part of it all was watching all my loved ones worry so much about me) and I was told that I would most likely survive it. But round after round of chemo along with the rampaging global pandemic that I was honestly more scared of (I was immunocompromised because of chemo and I live in a country that generally didn’t take mask-wearing or quarantine seriously) gradually wore down my spirit little by little. By November when my treatment plan got extended (at least two more rounds of chemo than initially expected) I was worn out, miserable, hopeless, and borderline suicidal. This was around when I played SDR2 for the first time.

When I first played through the game I thought that Nagito was kinda just a fun character who made the game more of a challenge since he was kinda working against you. I never hated him or anything (my first reaction to him was actually “OH MY GOD IT’S THE FINGERS IN HIS ASS GUY!!!!”). Then after I finished the game I read online that if you talk to him in his free time events (I later did the free time for all the characters myself in school mode) you eventually find out that he has cancer and dementia and that’s when my whole perception of him shifted. I felt a sense of comraderie and unity with him that I feel with other cancer patients/survivors. Also, due to my piss poor mental and emotional state at the time I found myself really relating to him in a way. I felt strangely seen and understood.

Needless to say, even in this dark time in my life, I wouldn’t even consider doing the things that Nagito did in SDR2. Nevertheless, I guess I related to him because he represented my specific agonies and pains to a hyperbolic degree. Due to cancer and the treatment related to it, I was angry, hopeless, frustrated, and at a severe disadvantage while the whole world was suffering as well. (Cough cough chapter 3 dispair disease cough cough)

I think generally that the emotional and mental health aspect of having cancer and the general dark parts of having cancer aren’t talked about enough. A lot of people like to make it this hopeful empowering thing and I think it’s fine to do that, it’s good to have hope and strength in times like that, but when one can’t stay strong and hopeful in those circumstances it doesn’t really hit well. And I think that’s what Nagito represents to me. He represents someone beaten down by his life circumstances that he had no control over, and while he puts up an optimistic front, he’s not the #strong #sobrave chronically ill person that seems to be really common in modern media. He represents the dark side and the brutally negative emotions that can come from chronic illness or just shitty life circumstances. He doesn’t care much about his own life or well-being, he’s basically given up. But he wants his short life to mean something good so desperately. In his own way he cares about the people around him and the world around him, he just thinks he can’t have a place in that world. He’s willing to hurt and kill people in order to, in his eyes, make the world a better place at the cost of himself. He’s like an antithesis or foil to other cancer patient characters I’ve seen who have a generally more positive saccharine outlook on their condition and their life (I.e. Augustus Waters from The Fault in Our Stars).

Thankfully I’m much happier and healthier these days, I’ve been done with chemo for over two years and while I’m still going through some treatment related to it (hormone suppression pills and shots since my cancer was ER+) but it pales in comparison to what chemo did to me. I may not relate as heavily to Nagito as I used to, but he still holds a special place in my heart. I see him now and still think of him as a flawed but sympathetic character who was a twisted mirror of my deep-seeded physical and emotional pains that I felt back during the most miserable time of my life. At that time, I couldn’t see the light, so he sat with me in the darkness.

Nagito’s story isn’t really a story about having or surviving cancer.

Thankfully my story has a happy ending as I survived cancer and am still in remission. I am much happier and healthier now and I have a new appreciation for life, how fragile it is, and the little joys that make it what it is. I don’t relate to Nagito as much now as I did back when I was going through cancer treatment, but when I look at him, I’m reminded of how he reflected the darkness inside of me during my worst times and how comforting he was to me.

Thankfully I beat cancer and I am much happier and healthy now, but I still look at Nagito and remember the dark comfort he gave me through my worst of times.