Emotional Abuse - Blog Posts

Dont you love it when your BEST friend betrays you out of the blue for their apathetic little bitchboy of a boyfriend :D

like mine for instance

So many households aren’t ready for this conversation

I'll never understand my father, making fun of my use of the word unconventional??

Dawg.. you dropped out 8th grade I got a higher education 💀

POV: Perfect girl didn't get to a special school for gifted students

"Love at first bite" - Sanji Fanfiction

Summary:

Being Sanji's lover, you are very much not okay with the way he fawns over your fellow nakama, Nami and Robin. The two of you have very different expectations towards your relationship leading to plenty of hurt and angst along the way.

Notes:

I have never learned to cook personally, so please excuse any strangeness featured in this work. At episode 420 in the anime (at the start of writing this). An "Hors d'œuvre" is a pre-appetizer part of a multiple course meal. I tried to make some notes for what I'd like to include in a Sanji fanfiction, but ended up only writing down "mon ange" multiple times because I'm a total sucker for Sanji being french and calling Y/N his angel. Am I as much of a simp as Sanji is? Possibly. Poor Sanji, he's in for a ride.

Chapter 1: Hors d'œuvre

Sweat trickles down your forehead.

You wipe it away with the back of your arm quickly, not wanting any of it to drip down and spoil any of the hard work you’ve been doing.

You’ve been standing here for hours, trying your hardest to make something for your lover.

Well, not lover, ex-lover. A rather recent development, as you had never quite found it in yourself to trust Sanji to be loyal to you until a week ago.

Knowing all too well how… enthusiastic he can get about any woman that isn’t above a certain age or decidedly ugly, you had always doubted his loyalty to you, no matter how many nice words he had spoiled you with.

Initially you hadn’t been so cautious, but when you’d seen him swoon over Robin and Nami, your other crewmates without any restraint, even though the two of you had started being lovers semi-officially on the Strawhat crew, the pang of hurt in your heart had shown you all too clearly that for you, he was definitely more than just a passing attraction, and that you certainly wished for him to feel the same way about you.

Your mind goes back to that instance one week ago. After Sanji had made an afternoon snack specifically for you – or so you had thought - you’d initially been over the moon with happiness. When finding out not long after that he’d showed the same attention to Nami and Robin, not so much anymore. You had confronted him, barging in on him in the kitchen washing some dishes without even bothering to knock, all politeness and manners washed away in your jealous rage.

“Sanji!”, you had exclaimed, voice taut with tension. Sanji had looked up curiously at your voice, and then beamed with happiness at seeing it was you. “Beatrice-chan! My love! You look as radiant as ever!” Your eyes had narrowed, and you’d spoken with frigid intensity. “Sanji. I’m not okay with you acting like you’re doing something special and exclusive for me and then finding out that Nami and Robin are getting the same treatment.”

Sanji’s face falls at your words. “But Beatrice-chan! They’re lovely ladies too, just like yourself! I can’t help but make sure all of you are comfortable and well.”

You cross your arms, glaring daggers into him. “Yeah, but I’m your lover, aren’t I? Those two aren’t. Shouldn’t I get special rights?”

You realize yourself how childish and petulant you sound, but you can’t help it. Sanji always fawning over the other two has left you rather irritable and unhappy and having let those feelings accumulate you are now on the verge of yelling at him.

Sanji, ever the ladies’ man, tries to soothe you. He stops  washing the dishes and moves over, his look apologetic. “Darling, my beautiful angel, of course you get special rights. But I can’t neglect the crew either, surely you understand?”

You pout, unwilling to back down even in the slightest. “Yeah, you say that. But actions speak louder than words. And I’m sick and tired of you always being all NAMI-SWAAAAAN and ROBIN-CHWAAAAAN every time they’re around.”

Sanji sighs and frowns. “But sweetheart, they’re my friends, my nakama. It’s a sign of respect, don’t you see?”

Your glare against him hardens. “What I do see is that you’re head over heels for women who aren’t me. And I know I’m just some random lover of yours which I’m sure you have plenty of, but I don’t like it. Not one bit. I’m considering to stop this arrangement of ours. I don’t like sharing.”

Sanji’s face falls completely, a look of sheer dread on it now. “No, no, no, mon ange, please don’t say that.” He steps closer, taking your hands in his. “You’re not “just some random lover” of mine. You’re my whole world, my dearest darling.”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah, Sanji. And you say that to any person walking around with tits. So excuse me when I don’t take your flair for the dramatic seriously.”

He looks genuinely hurt now, and you’re almost starting to feel sorry for your harsh words… almost.

Sanji looks down, speaking quietly, almost dejectedly. “Is that really what you think of me? That I don’t care for you, that you could be replaced with any woman?”

You snort, your own pent-up hurt making you uncaring towards his own. “Yes. That’s what I think of you. You’re a total player, Sanji, just admit it.”

Sanji lets go of your hands, turning around to start washing the dishes again. He doesn’t respond and you can’t see his face, so you have no idea what’s going on within him. He doesn’t reply, which makes you stand there rather awkwardly.

After a while, you’re starting to feel a little bad and decidedly a little guilty. Even if you two aren’t really working out as lovers as well as you’d planned, he’s still your nakama that you care for. You start up, saying “Sanji-“, before you are quickly interrupted by him.

“Don’t, Beatrice. Don’t bother.” His voice is calm and controlled. You see him lighting up a cigarette for himself in between dishes, needing quite a few attempts considering that there’s no wind blowing or anything else that could interfere with the success of it.

You’ve never heard him speak so unenthusiastically to you, and it makes your heart clench in your chest. You’d wanted to confront him, yes, but you’d hoped childishly that admitting to your jealousy would make him drop his obvious affectionate nature towards your other nakama, not push him away entirely.

You speak up quietly, voice laced with regret. “S-so I guess that’s it? It’s over?”

Again he doesn’t bother turning around, taking a puff from his cigarette before resuming washing the dishes. “I guess so.”

His voice is still unnaturally calm and collected. You had thought about this moment occasionally, about what would happen if you ever decided to discontinue your love affair. But in your mind it had either been a glorious change from a love affair into a genuine relationship, or Sanji on his knees begging for you not to leave him.

The reality you are faced with is jarring. You had your suspicions about Sanji being quite the player, but him being this cold and uncaring at the end of your love affair? Never once would you have imagined things to go this way.

“O-okay. I’m just gonna- I’m just gonna go.”, you say weakly. Waiting for a reply you don’t receive for a few moments, you quickly turn on your heel and rush out of the kitchen. Tears are stinging in your eyes as you quickly make your way towards your room, praying you won’t run into anyone from the crew, especially not your ever-curious captain.

Whatever gods above there may be seem to heed your calls, as you make it there without coming across a single soul. You lay down on your bed, burying your head in your pillows as you let out a sniffle. You had certainly not wanted things to go this way. For Sanji to be this cold towards you.

It was such a stark difference from your previous encounters, from you initially being completely swept away by his unwavering and doting attention on you after you joined the crew, to a few ups and downs of you realizing you weren’t the only woman he fawned over and you two making up and reconciliating in steamy encounters of passion over and over. And now it’s over. Just like that.

You hadn’t thought about whether or not your love affair would be a long-term arrangement, but you’d never imagined it end this quickly either. Three long months had you been enjoying Sanji’s unwavering devotion to making sure you were okay and trying to fulfill your every wish and now it’s gone entirely, ended quickly by one of your jealous streaks.

As you cry into your pillow in a swirl of sadness and frustration, you curse Sanji for being such a player, for not caring about you when you’d wanted him to so badly, when you had hoped he’d eventually get past his initial infatuation and finally have any sort of real feelings for you. You have no idea how to face him again after this, but then again, he doesn't seem to care about you much anyways, so he probably won't care about that either.

Chapter 2: Amouse-bouche

As you finish reminiscing about your time with your ex-lover – and the separation that had felt surprisingly much like a break-up – you keep stirring the pot you’re currently standing in front of. You’ve been cooking for hours in hopes of somehow impressing Sanji as an apology for your previous rude behaviour. You’ve never really cooked much of anything before – usually just living by scraps and the small bits and pieces of food you actually could afford – and you are not so sure if the something brewing within the pot is actually edible.

You’ve asked Zoro to keep Sanji out of the kitchen, and every now and then you can hear the two of them arguing loudly over it, but Zoro has remained steadfast and adamant about Sanji not being let into the kitchen. You’d gotten Luffy’s permission for this specifically, or rather, you bribed Luffy by promising him he’d get a good chunk of the food you were gonna be cooking.

The recipe you’d decided on had been one you found in the various cookbooks to be found in the pantry. You were pretty sure Sanji just cooked everything by heart at this point, but apparently these were fond mementos he didn’t want to get rid off, even though they didn’t have his, but rather the name “Zeff” written inside their covers, whoever that was.

Having chosen a recipe by image alone you’d ended up with a seemingly simple recipe of octopus, sea king liver and plenty of funny looking vegetables. You’d been able to find all of the ingredients within the pantry where Sanji kept a rather impressive collection of ingredients and had been cooking away since. Again you peek into the pot, one octopus tentacle arm thing reaching up while many vegetables swam around in the strange brown liquid everything had turned into. You frown, wondering if it’s really supposed to look like that, but all you have for reference is the image of the finished meal in the cookbook. Which it does not remotely resemble as of yet, but surely it’ll get there... right?

By the time you finish, you’re sweaty and uncomfortable in the very warm kitchen. How Sanji manages to look so perfect while cooking for hours here, you have no idea. You wipe the sweat off your brow and put the pot on a device that’ll keep the food warm as you head for a quick shower.

Apologies and dinner are best had while not reeking worse than Zoro after a workout, you decide.

You head to the entry to the kitchen, where Zoro and Sanji are still standing, bickering. You clear your throat. “Uh. Sanji? I-I’d like to talk to you about something.” Sanji turns towards you, his expression guarded and mostly neutral. You’ve become one of the only women that Sanji appears indifferent to, and you’re pretty certain you don’t like this change. You much preferred Sanji still being yours. Or well, your lover. Semantics.

Luffy’s voice carries across the deck from the figurehead he’s sitting on: “Is it ready yet???”

You frown, giving your captain a hard stare. “No, need to do something first! I’ll let you know once it is.”

Sanji crosses his arms, giving away nothing as he speaks in a neutral tone: “Okay. What do you need to talk to me about?”

You gulp and gesture towards the door. “Uh, can we talk in private?”

Sanji shrugs faintly and heads into the kitchen ahead of you, not even bothering to hold the door open for you, a lack of chivalry that would previously have been unheard of. Seriously, you’d only called out his less-than-awesome tendencies. He should really not take it so poorly.

As you head into the kitchen after Sanji, you move in front of the pot containing your culinary creation to hide it from sight for now. You meet Sanji’s eyes hesitantly. “Right. So, I, uh. I wanted to apologize to you, Sanji. What I said back then, one week ago… I could have been a bit nicer to you. I’m sorry.”

Sanji’s eyes soften for a fraction of a second before his expression hardens again. “So you didn’t mean what you said?”

You bite back your immediate honest reply and give a faint smile as you lie through your teeth: “N-no. I didn’t. I know you wouldn’t lie to me about your feelings towards me.”

Sanji still seems a little cautious. You know that you’re a pretty good liar, so your expression and voice shouldn’t give it away.

Sanji’s eyes then train on the pot, furrowing his brows in confusion: “What’s that? Did you- did you cook something?”

You nod, forcing your smile to grow a little wider. “Yes. Yes I did. As- as an apology to you. I hope it turned out well. It’s why Zoro’s been keeping you out of the kitchen.”

Sanji almost breaks out into a wide smile, but you can see him visibly restraining himself from doing so at the last moment. "F-for me? You cooked something for me?"

You nod once more. "Yeah! I did. I hope you'll like it. I, uh, don't exactly have a lot of cooking experience." 

Sanji nods, stepping closer to the pot, looking inside curiously. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he takes in the scent, discerning the different ingredients you used. 

His expressions aren't giving anything way, after a moment he simply recommends a spice to use. 

"Oh! It didn't say anything about that in the cookbook." You feel a little stubborn and point to the cookbook. 

A brief flash of recognition passes across Sanji's face. "Ah. You took one of mine." 

You bite your lip. "Uh, yeah. It was just laying around, I thought anyone could use it." 

Another lie, you’d found the cookbooks stored away hidden under countless ingredients in an infrequently used corner of the pantry.

Sanji can easily identify the lie as what it is, of course, having put the cookbooks there himself. He doesn’t comment on it, however, just fixing you with an inscrutable gaze.

“Well, these cookbooks don’t know everything. I’d suggest you add the spice for a bit of added flavor.”

You’re about to protest again, but then stop yourself. Your stubborn nature insists on knowing better, but you’ve cooked this in order to apologize to Sanji, after all. It might be smart not to start an argument over your apology meal.

You know where the spice can be found, but you smile at him innocently, having read somewhere that men like being needed for help and that it makes them like you better or something. That certainly can’t hurt for your goal. “Where is that spice? Sorry, I don’t know my way around your kitchen.”

Sanji wordlessly points to the shelf right to your left, where the spice is prominently displayed. You grimace but quickly regain your composure and smile, laughing awkwardly. “Oh! I’m so silly. My bad.” Inside you’re seething, your pride wounded at your failed attempt at manipulation. It’s entirely your own fault, but in your mind Sanji is definitely the one to blame.

Sanji doesn’t seem to be in the mood for much further talking about things after this awkward interaction, so he nods curtly. “I look forward to tasting this food for dinner.” He then excuses himself from the room politely.

You grimace as you stare after his retreating figure. This has gone much worse than you’d hoped. You’re going out of your way to do something for the man, so why isn’t he accrediting you the way you deserve to be? What a stuck-up snob.

Later, during dinner, Luffy is positively ecstatic to get to taste your food.

“Smells so yummy!”, he keeps saying. The other crewmembers are eyeing your culinary creation far more suspiciously, and you’re pretty sure you heard Usopp whispering to Nami if you were trying to poison them all earlier.

Luffy and Sanji are the only ones who immediately start loading food onto their plates. When Zoro crosses his arms and only takes a sip of his beer instead of loading any food onto his plate, Sanji stands up and snaps at him. “Oi, Mosshead! Bea worked very hard on this! Be polite for once in your life and take some food!”

Zoro glares at Sanji but obediently takes some food onto his plate. The others follow shortly after, although you can’t help but notice how small the portions are.

Luffy is already on his second plate and keeps stuffing his face with the food, one octopus tentacle dangling out of his mouth as he speaks “I love it! You should cook together with Sanji so we have even more food! Sanji’s food is the best, but if he teaches you I bet you’ll get there quickly too!”

You beam at Luffy’s praise and look at Sanji, hoping to hear the same sort of praise from the chef himself. Sanji’s giving you a smile, but his cheeks are looking distinctly green and his forehead looks a little sweaty.

You haven’t touched a bite of your own food yet either, and as you load it onto your plate Usopp suddenly yells loudly “GAAAAAAH I KNEW YOU WERE TRYING TO POISON US! What did you put in here, sea slugs and algae?!”

As you look at the other members of the crew, everyone has a similar look of green on their face, some looking utterly repulsed, some looking like they’re about to throw up.

Zoro’s face is a grimace but he loads a second potion onto his plate without complaint, clearly willing do endure the culinary horrors of your making stoically.

Sanji stands up once more, smashing his hands against the table. He speaks in a snarl. “Shut up, Usopp. And you others too. Bea made this food, and you’re all damn well going to eat your fill. None of this is going to waste. She tried her best and that’s what matters. It’s still better than what most of you could cook.”

Luffy, completely oblivious to the tension in the room, grins widely. “That’s okay, Sanji! I’ll just eat everything myself!”

You can see all of the crew members discreetly pushing their plates towards him, all but Sanji and Zoro, who are eating their plates diligently.

Luffy’s hands stretch out and grab at all of the plates being handed to him. He appears to be on cloud nine. Well, at least one of them is happy with your food. When it’s only the monster trio and you left in the room, you address Sanji quietly. “Is it really that bad, Sanji?”

Sanji’s eyes meet yours, a tender smile spreading on his face, the first smile he’s given you since your splitting apart. “Chèrie, it’s not that the food is bad per se. You’re just starting out on your journey, it takes plenty of time and training like most things in life. But I’d say it was a good first attempt.”

Zoro snorts. “Oh, stop kissing her ass. It’s edible, but just barely. Maybe try something easier first before jumping into the fancy stuff that curly eyebrows always makes. You’re asking too much of yourself.”

While Zoro’s advice is solid and meant well, you can’t help but feel irritated. You’ve never been one to handle criticism well, and this time is no different.

Luffy’s words, however, soothe your angry heart. “Whaddya mean just barely?! I think it’s great!”

You smile and nod at Luffy gratefully. “Thanks, captain.” Luffy giggles. “Shishishi! Don’t call me “captain”. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Your smile widens. “Yeah, that’s true. Alright… Luffy.”

Dinner ends on a positive note this way. Sanji insists on cleaning the dishes for you, saying that you’ve spent enough time and energy cooking for the crew today. You can’t help but be a little impressed with how usually he does both things on his own every day, multiple times a day.

As you head to bed that night, you can’t help but feel a little disheartened. You’ve barely even gotten to speak to Sanji today, and you’re frustrated that your food turned out so poorly when you invested so many hours into making it. On the other hand, at least Sanji defended your food – and you – valiantly to the others. But he’d probably have done the same for Nami or Robin. In fact, he’d probably have done it far more intensely for Nami or Robin, granted how distant he’s been with you lately.

As you drift off to sleep your dreams are uneasy and your sleep fitful, filled with feelings of rejection and disheartened feelings.

Chapter 3: Soupe

Summary:

Here's where my naming system for these chapters fails me. Hors d'ouevre and amouse-bouche sound fancy enough, but soup is... well, soup. I'm so sorry that I'm taking so long for these chapters to come out! I had about 60% written about a month ago, but took a horribly long time to refill my Sanji-Angst-o-meter.

Sanji has always wanted a girlfriend. Having been taught to treat all women well, he’d always dreamt of the day he would get to find his very own princess and spoil her to the heavens and above. 

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him. While he certainly never stopped trying, most women didn’t exactly take him for full with his admiring and subservient approach. 

He’d been exploited by a few women, sure, but he’d never found the one thing he so desperately wished for - true love. 

But all of that had changed, or so Sanji had thought, when Luffy invited a new crew member to the Strawhat pirates. Bea. Short for Beatrice. A name worthy of an angel. 

Bea was everything Sanji had ever dreamed of. She had long, flowing auburn hair, a sweet smile, rather impressive assets, and the very best thing was - she seemed to be interested in Sanji too. 

Sanji didn’t know what he had done right to deserve a girl like her, but he was over the moon with joy. He’d shower her with his attention, with praise, reading her every wish from her eyes. 

They’d never officially established their relationship or talked about their love explicitly, but Sanji figured that seeing as they were both deeply in love with another, they would automatically be boyfriend and girlfriend. 

Despite his previous obsession with seeing women naked and what could only be called being a total pervert, Sanji found himself realizing something. While he and Bea had started sleeping with one another, it wasn’t the one big highlight of the day for him as it had been with his previous short-lived relationships.

No, Sanji found himself enjoying Bea’s company during the day just as much as during those intimate times. He would always love chasing those exclusive highs and getting to enjoy the divinity that is the female body, but even the quiet moments held so much charm and romance to him that his heart almost leaped out of his chest every time he got to spend time with Bea. 

Sanji had it bad. Really bad. He’d always make sure to make Bea the most exquisite meals, showering her with incredible desserts and cocktails - never leaving his beloved Nami-Swan or Robin-Chwan on the side, of course - and she seemed to revel in his attention just as much as he did in hers. 

So then, why had he ruined it all? During that final confrontation with Bea, he should have begged for her forgiveness. Told her more convincingly that she was the one for him, that he’d already imagined the two of them walking down the aisle, that while he owed Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan his affection too, they’d always be his nakama first and foremost, while Bea… well, she was his everything. But he had been weak. Weak, weak and stupid. He'd been so shocked to hear her cruel words, so panicked to hear her say the things she did, that he'd been unable to properly function. Unable to think things through and make the right decisions to keep his beloved Bea by his side. He'd wanted nothing more to get down on his knees, pleading with her to give him another chance.

And yet, he’d made her unhappy. He’d made her feel like she wasn’t special to him, like she was interchangeable with any other woman. He’d completely and utterly failed in his job as her boyfriend and future husband. 

Worst of all, Bea had acted like they were just… just lovers. Some passing fling, nothing too noteworthy. She’d claimed to be one of his many lovers. Didn’t she realize how deeply he felt for her? How he’d completely and utterly given her his heart? 

Her words echo in his mind, sharp pain coursing through his chest as he remembers them - “You’re a total player, Sanji, just admit it.”

A player. Had he not told her how much he adored her, every single day? Every hour, whenever possible? And besides, they were boyfriend and girlfriend, right? How could he be a player when they’d been dating each other so happily? 

He’d kept showering Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan with affection and treats, sure, but he’d never once even thought of being disloyal. Okay, maybe he tried to sneak some peaks into the girls’ bathroom once or twice, but Bea had been in there too, so it was totally excusable! 

But perhaps it was not all over. As much as Sanji had spent his days just staring at the walls in his kitchen, mourning over what he’d lost and what he’d done wrong to lose it, Bea had shown him that she was ready to forgive him. 

She’d made him a meal as an apology. “Foie de poulpe et serpent de mer”, a dish way too complicated for somebody without cooking experience, as she’d shown to be. From an objective standpoint, it had tasted terrible and it had made him sick later that night, but it had been cooked with love from Bea, and that had made it a dish far more divine than anything he himself could ever have created. 

Sanji had personally bribed Usopp, Nami and Chopper to not say a word to Bea after all of them had been sick that night too. Luffy, with his incredible metabolism and dubious methods of digestion, had been completely fine and practically begged Sanji to take on Bea as his apprentice, because in Luffy’s mind, two cooks meant twice the amount of meat. 

Sanji had entertained the idea for a while, getting lost in daydreams of maybe opening his own restaurant with Bea far, far in the future once Luffy had become King of the Pirates and he himself had found the All Blue. How delightfully beautiful she’d look in her cooking apron, with a chef hat to top it off. How he’d personally beat up every single lowlife who dared insult her cooking skills and prove to be a most valiant knight in shining armor for her. Even just thinking about it now, he sighs wistfully, dreaming of this future.

He’d make it up to her. There was no way he would get in the way of his own happy future with the woman he loved, and he’d be damned if he would really allow himself to ruin it all before they’d even gotten married to one another. 

That afternoon, Sanji spends a lot of time diving in the water at the shore of the island the Merry is currently docked at. He was just swimming for leisure earlier when he’d discovered some beautiful shells under water, and he had immediately decided to craft a bracelet for his beloved Bea and give it to her as a form of apology. Initially it had been a rather doable task, but after he’d already found the prettiest shells near the shore he’d had to go deeper and deeper into the ocean, looking for more. 

The shells had become more scarce the further he’d gone, and eventually, much to his dismay, he’d asked the mosshead for help. Zoro had been training near the shore anyways, and seeing as freediving classified as some sort of training too, the two of them had set out to find more shells together. 

Sanji didn’t mind Zoro that much. He was stupid, a jerk, didn’t respect women enough, and his haircolour was straight up offensive to the eyes, but when he asked him for help with anything, even though they usually bickered constantly, Zoro’d help without even a second question. Just plenty of insults to the chef's eyebrows. 

Eventually, the two of them take a break. Sanji had insisted on it so they wouldn’t get even the slightest hints of diver’s disease, not wanting to rope Zoro into something that could potentially harm him, especially knowing of Zoro’s stubborn nature when it came to training. 

They hadn’t talked about the reason for Sanji’s search for shells yet, but Zoro’s figured it out regardless. He speaks quietly, laying on the beach on the shore beside Sanji. “So you’re gonna gift Bea some shells, I guess?” 

Sanji sighs wistfully. “I want to make her a bracelet with only the most beautiful shells I can find. Maybe she’ll forgive me for what I’ve done then.” 

Zoro turns his head around and frowns at Sanji. “What you’ve done? She was the one who threw the jealous fit and ended things between you two just cause she couldn’t handle you bringing Nami and Robin their usual cocktails.” 

Sanji’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly. “What, no! I did shower Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan with too much affection. I made Bea feel like she wasn’t enough, and that’s unforgivable. Don’t dwell on it, mosshead, it’s not like you know much of romance to begin with.” 

Zoro just grunts in response before getting up and resuming the search for seashells together with Sanji. 

They spend a few days doing this, the crew thankfully being docked at the island for a while, allowing the two of them to engage in their search. Sanji would have hated having to leave and needing to use different shells from other places, he wants this gift - and his apology - to be nothing short of perfect. 

Once he’s finally crafted the bracelet, having asked Usopp and Franky for some help to make sure it’s very durable and won’t fall apart quickly, Sanji approaches Bea. He’s got a cocktail and a light snack on his tablet, approaching her with his usual suave confidence, even while his heart is fluttering nervously in his chest.

"Beatrice.", he addresses her. Oh, how he loves saying her name. It's like honey on his tongue, a name truly befitting of an angel like her. 

Bea turns around to him, giving him a hesitant smile. "Yeah?" 

"I've got something for you." Sanji quickly pulls up a table onto which he places the cocktail and snack, and before he can think better of it, he adds: "And something else as well." 

He gets down on one knee, presenting the bracelet on the palm of his hand. "I would like to gift you this bracelet as a form of apology. The way I acted was entirely uncalled for, I never intended to make you feel so bad. I humbly beseech you to forgive me for my misdeeds and give me another chance if you can find it within the kindness of your heart, oh sweet beloved Beatrice." 

Bea's eyes widen considerably. "O-oh, Sanji. Thank you. I accept your apology. You did hurt me pretty bad. So you won't swoon over Nami and Robin anymore now?" 

Something inside Sanji's chest starts to painfully clench when his apology is met with the confirmation that he did indeed hurt her so much. How can he claim to want to be anyone's knight in shining armor when he could possibly hurt the woman he loves? Is he really so faulty? Doesn't he pride himself on treating every lady with nothing but utmost respect? How did it come to this? 

And more importantly, how on earth is he supposed to promise not to swoon over Nami and Robin anymore now? They're his nakama, his dearest friends, and they just so happen to be the prettiest women in the entire world right after Beatrice, followed only by the snake empress that had become so fond of Luffy. Which Sanji still hadn't entirely gotten over. How'd that monkey score a woman like her? 

He bites the inside of his cheek and bows his head. "Yes, mon ange. I promise I will not swoon over Nami-swan or Robin-chwan anymore." He feels like he's betraying himself and his core values even as he says it, but he can't help himself. He's so madly in love with Bea, and if this is what it will take to win her affection back, then he'll do it. 

Bea's eyes narrow and she almost glares at him. "Nami and Robin. Not Nami-Swan and Robin-Chwan." 

Sanji gulps and meets her eyes as he responds. "Y... Yes. Nami... and Robin." He's not sure if he's ever spoken their names so disrespectfully. They're basically goddesses, how could he call their names so disrespectfully, without expressing his admiration through the suffixes? But this is what Beatrice needs in order for him not to hurt her with his behaviour. It is still a sacrifice in the name of love. It's fine, Sanji repeatedly tells himself. Maybe he can still call them Nami-swan and Robin-chwan when Bea isn't there. Or would that be betraying her too? Would she find out through the others and then feel hurt, still? His mind's racing with these new developments, and he finds himself surprised at how queasy he feels, even if he's agreeing to things that will hopefully bring Bea back into his arms. 

Bea crosses her arms. "Okay. You're on probation. If you show me that you mean it for a full week then you can be my lover again." 

Her... her lover? Sanji's face falls. She's making demands of this sort just for being her lover? Does she not realize how much she is asking of him? How willingly he'll sacrifice this for their love, even as she's writing it all off as a simple... love affair?

Beatrice takes the bracelet from the palm of his hand and inspects it closely. "It's pretty. Where'd you buy it?" 

Sanji blushes ever so faintly, a little overwhelmed by the entire situation. "I didn't. I collected all of the shells myself and then Franky and Usopp helped me stabilize the bracelet so it'll be durable even through extreme situations." 

Bea nods, seeming only vaguely impressed. "Ah. So that's why you've been going swimming so much. This is pretty nice. Thank you, Sanji." She gives him a smile and Sanji helps her put the bracelet on, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he touches her wrist while closing the bracelet around it.

"You know, the reason that I react so negatively around you fawning over our fellow crewmates even though we're just lovers is that I've been hurt before. A lot. My previous long-term boyfriend cheated on me. Multiple times. Hell, there was barely any time where he wasn't cheating on me. So I'm a little cautious when it comes to this sort of stuff. You understand, right?" She flashes him a wide, disarming smile and Sanji can feel his heart doing somersaults in his chest at just how beautiful she is, the way she gets these cute dimples when she smiles.

It takes him a short moment for him to come back to his senses and he immediately takes on a concerned and sympathetic look. "Of course, mon amour. I'm so sorry to hear that you have been hurt like that. You deserve only the best, and whoever that boyfriend was, he could live a thousand livetimes and never deserve you." After a short moment, he adds: "But darling, is that really all we are to you? Lovers? I'd go to the ends of the earth for you. You own my heart, body and soul. You could do me no greater honor than becoming my wi- I mean, girlfriend." He barely catches himself before this becomes incredibly embarassing. 

If he didn't know any better he'd have thought that Bea's expression had just turned decidedly greedy at his promises. But that doesn't make any sense, he must have just imagined it. 

Granted the depth of his confession, he'd have expected some big response, but all he gets is Bea staring at him in shock. "Uh. You wanna be my boyfriend?" 

Sanji's heart feels like it's made out of glass. He's praying that he's not said too much, that he's not pushed her too far, especially if she struggles with trust after that asshole ex of hers hurt her so much. "Yes, Beatrice. Please. I promise to cherish you now and forever. I will be loyal to you for as long as I draw breath." 

It's like watching a robot switch between emotions. First there was shock, then there was vulnerability, then there was greed, and now she appears to switch to a softer side of her. 

"Yes, Sanji. I'd like that. I- I want to be your girlfriend too." Her smile is almost coy now as she smiles at him bashfully. 

He can't believe it. She's actually said yes. SHE SAID YES! Sanji is so elated that he immediately picks her up by her waist and spins her around in pure, unbridled joy. "Really?! Really!! Oh, mon ange, you have just made me the happiest man in the world! I will treat you like nothing short of the goddess you are, and strive to make you happy with each breath I draw!" 

He does three happy little twirls with her before setting her back down and taking both of her hands into his own. "We should celebrate. I'll make you your favourite meal tonight. What would you like? No matter what. I'll make as much as you want. And I'll make sure to hide it all away from Luffy so that greedy bastard doesn't gobble up all of it before you've had your fill." 

Throughout the entire preparation of the meal and the following feast, Sanji is on cloud nine. He's singing happily while cooking on his own in the kitchen, spins around on the spot and dances happily even whenever the other Strawhats are watching. 

His pure elation and joy quickly spreads to the rest of the crew with the exception of two. Luffy, Usopp, Brook and Chopper are up on the tables singing shanties and dancing around with sticks in their noses the second their dishes are empty (and everyone else's too, as far as Luffy was concerned).

Bea's happiness is more subdued in contrast to Sanji's infectious happiness. The crew has never heard him laugh quite as much and crack quite as many jokes, usually he's far too busy upholding his suave look, but tonight he couldn't be any happier if he tried. 

He manages to keep his promises for now, treating Nami and Robin cordially and only ever so slightly better than the rest of the crew, avoiding to say their names so they won't know of him not using the respectful suffixes anymore. 

But amidst all the chaotic happiness spread amongst the crew, there are two that do not join in anywhere near as much as the others. 

Zoro, usually the first to drink himself to a happily blissful state, is drinking moderately, something that has previously been unheard of. He's laughing along with the crew ocassionally but for most of the night his eyes stay trained on Beatrice. Both Zoro's lack in alcohol consumption and his laser focus on Bea are things that Sanji notices, not less attentive due to his immense happiness, but he doesn't comment on it for now. 

Every now and then Zoro and Robin exchange conspiratory looks between the two of them - something seems to be worrying them quite a bit, even as everybody else is happily enjoying the celebration.

Chapter 4: Appetizer

Summary:

Bea and Sanji have started going out (and this time both of them are aware of it). What challenges lay ahead for this new couple?

Notes:

I'm so sorry that this took so long for me to write! Christmas time has been horribly busy, but I hope that the chapter's quality will make up for the long wait. We've got enough angst to feed a whole village!   Content warnings: Explicit, talking about Sanji and Bea's sex life (but not actual smut, if ya get me?), harassment, consensual roughhousing and abuse

Throughout the following two weeks, Sanji feels like he's in heaven.  He didn't know that he could possibly become any happier than during his previous time (thinking he was) dating Bea, but it very much is possible. 

Every morning he wakes her up with her favourite snack, tells her that he'd be more than happy to bring her breakfast to her bed if she so wished. 

When he's not busy working in the kitchen he's constantly hovering around her, making sure not to be too intrusive but always at least in close-enough proximity to fulfill her every wish at so much at a word falling from her lips. 

Frankly, Bea does keep him pretty busy. She's incredibly demanding, asking for snacks at the most impossible times, even whenever he's already left the kitchen for the day and is looking forward to winding down with his beautiful girl in his arms. 

But he never complains, not even once. Not whenever she asks him for ridiculous amounts of berri to spend on jewelry (which she doesn't even pretend she'll ever pay him back), not when she tells him that his cooking used to be better (which makes him try to work even harder), not whenever she'll randomly push him out of bed and call him a pervert when all he'd done was hold her close and marvel at her beauty. 

Daft as he may sometimes be around women, Sanji isn't stupid. He's aware of her behaviour not being okay, but he brushes it off as a meager price to pay in order to get to date her. 

One thing he cannot brush off, however, is whenever he sees Bea hang out with Zoro more and more. 

He'll catch her watching the swordsman work out, giving him some of the snacks Sanji had made for her whenever she's already full, talking with Zoro more and more. 

One evening, when Beatrice had promised him that the two of them would hang out after he'd finished washing the dishes, she doesn't show up in his quarters. 

Sanji heads out to the deck looking for her and is about to call out her name when the words die in his throat. 

He can hear Beatrice's laughter echoing down from the crow's nest, the usually so beautiful symphony of her angelic voice tainted by a much deeper, masculine voice. Zoro's. 

Sanji freezes in his tracks. Did she forget about their planned meeting? He knows Zoro's on night watch, so it makes sense for him to be up in the crow's nest. But why is Bea there? 

And what are they laughing about? 

Sanji takes off his shoes, careful not to make a single noise as he starts to ascend the ropes towards the crow's nest. Overhearing a lady's conversation isn't something he thought he'd ever do, but he can't help himself. His heart feels like it's being squeezed to death by a sea king just hearing Bea laughing with Zoro like this. 

It gets worse, however. Once he's close enough to overhear their conversation, his heart actively skips a beat. Then two. Then three. 

Bea's words are so callous, so cruel. "Yeah, and do you see how stupid he looks every time he's fawning over me? Like his nostrils go super wide and honestly he looks more like a pig than a man." She even snickers. 

Zoro's words are a lot more controlled, more held back. "He certainly does look a lot like his wanted poster." 

Sanji's hands tighten around the ropes so tightly that the rope starts cutting into his hands. A shiver goes down his body from thinking of that thrice-cursed ugly wanted poster. 

Bea continues. "And oh my god he's so touchy. Ugh. So annoying. No wonder everyone calls him a pervert. He totally is one. Doesn't keep his hands off of me even for a second when we're in private. If I didn't love him I'd call it harassment." 

This time Sanji is glad for Bea's callous laughter, because it serves well to be loud enough to mask the choked sob that escapes him. It's not true. Is it? He's always made sure to be so polite towards Bea. To ask her multiple times if she was interested in doing anything intimate on each respective night. Respecting her sometimes arbitrary seeming reasons for denying him even basic physical proximity. 

How could she think of him like this? Like his tender, loving touch was harassing. It takes him all he has to remain quiet and surpress his sobs as he hangs there on the ropes, silently crying. 

To his surprise, Zoro's voice can be heard defending him. "Really. He doesn't strike me as the type. More like he'd be too scared to hurt a girl's feelings to even do anything with her in the first place." 

Okay, that's not great either. Zoro's basically calling him a virgin, but still, he's surprised to hear the mosshead defend him in the first place. From his very own girlfriend, no less. 

Bea snorts derisively. "Yeah? I'm still sore. Man doesn't give me any rest at night, like ever. Chopper's given me something to numb the pain, at least, but yeah. He doesn't hold back. He's too much of a pervert to care about his partner's comfort." 

Zoro just huffs in response. 

Sanji's not sure if he can listen to this any longer. That can't be right. It absolutely can't be. He's always been so gentle with Bea. Sure, she'd asked him to be really rough with her a few nights ago, but that was after she'd specifically requested that multiple times. He'd asked for her permission countless times, and every time she'd asked him to hit her he'd felt a piece of his heart crumple and die. 

He wouldn't hit a woman. Ever. But Bea was his girlfriend. And had specifically told him that she was into being hit and mistreated, as being used as less than. So he'd sacrificed his morals, his number one priority, to make her happy. He had cried during the act and felt so utterly repulsed with himself, but Bea hadn't noticed, her back being turned to him. He'd taken the next day off, pretending to be sick, crying bitter tears in his quarters, hating himself for what he'd done. At her request. With her permission. But still, he'd hit a woman. His woman. He didn't deserve to call himself a man anymore. 

And now she was telling Zoro that... what? That he was a mindless brute? Completely indifferent to her well-being and comfort. Had he made her feel this way? But she'd been begging him for some roughhousing. He was a disgusting piece of shit for complying, but that's what she had wanted. Had he missed signs of her secretly telling him to stop? But they had established a safe word, which she hadn't used. His mind is spinning and not only that, it feels like the world is spinning around him. Not the best condition to be in when currently suspended in mid-air, clinging to some ropes. 

He falls. He can't even remember letting go of the ropes, but apparently he has. The last thing he sees is the crow's nest of the Going Merry, getting smaller and smaller in the distance as the air rushes by around him. 

He hits the deck with a resounding thud and then everything turns to black. 

Chapter 5: Salad

Summary:

After falling off the ropes of the Going Merry and hitting the deck hard, Sanji has been unconscious. A little bit of a wholesome Strawhat get-together before we jump into the deep end of angst once again. Content warning: Suicidal suspicions

Notes:

If not for @mere-mortifer, this fic would be receiving far less love from me than it is. Thank you so very, very much for always commenting, you make torturing Sanji through Bea so much more fun and I'm so glad we can enjoy some heavy angst together!   I've decided to throw out another chapter right away! Consider it my apology for being so inconsistent with the updates.

He's dreaming. 

It's a swirl of different dreams, short snapshots of his family and the loneliness he's felt, intermixed with snapshots of his time with the Strawhats, of finally having a found family he could call his own, snapshots of the island he'd spent so much time on in complete isolation, waiting for a ship to come rescue them together with Zeff. And Bea. Beautiful, lovable Bea, the girl he married. He can see the wedding ceremony and the beautiful tiny little girl they had, who inherited Sanji's blonde hair and Bea's beautiful eyes. 

When he finally wakes up from days of laying in a coma he's rather disoriented by being met with Zoro's grey eyes rather than Bea's. He blinks rapidly and groans. "Mosshead?" 

Zoro's previously stoic expression widens into a small, but genuine smile. "Oh thank god, curly brows." 

Before Sanji can even fully register what's happening, big, strong arms have enveloped him and it feels like he's being squeezed to death. He wheezes helplessly as Zoro seems intent on forcing every single bit of air out of his lungs in a crushing hug. 

"C-Can't... can't breathe...", he finally manages to get out, and Zoro's grip lessens. He lets Sanji back down onto the sick bed, and looks at him with a frown. "You had us all worried to death, idiot." 

"What happened?" 

Zoro's gaze darkens. "I'd like you to tell me that. I was out on night watch when suddenly I heard a loud noise. When I checked, you were there, laying on the deck, looking like..." He averts his eyes and his voice quiets down. "Looking like you were dead". 

Sanji's mind is foggy and so is his memory. He frowns. "I- So I fell onto the deck? Why?" 

Zoro grimaces, meeting Sanji's eyes steadily, worry in his. "Bea said you jumped." 

Sanji's eyes widen in shock. "What? She said what? Why would I?"

Zoro shrugs, looking away again. "How the hell should I know? You're the one that was suddenly on the deck. And you'd taken off your shoes. We've all been worried sick." 

"I'd taken off my...? Huh?" 

Zoro shrugs again. "Robin said that that might have some significance, but she wasn't sure." After a short pause he adds. "Do you want me to get you anything? Or should I get Chopper?"

Sanji shakes his head. "No, I'll talk to Chopper later. Have you been here for long?" 

Zoro clears his throat. "Nah. Just thought I'd check in. You've been out cold for five whole days. Obviously I've not been by your side all that time." The forced laugh that comes after sounds so unnatural and so unlike Zoro that Sanji isn't sure if maybe he might still be dreaming. 

"Right. Where's Bea?" 

Zoro looks almost angry at the question. "Fuck if I know. Sorry to tell you, curly brows, but she's not been here once since the first day. Everyone else has been here, taking shifts. Luffy tried to stuff some meat down your throat a few times thinking it would fix you, but we thankfully prevented him from suffocating you like that."

It sounds so much like something Luffy would do that Sanji can't help but smile, even through the pain of knowing of Bea's absence.

Zoro continues. "Nami and Robin were here a lot too. They took turns reading you stories. Chopper said that some of what we say might get through to your subconscious and have a positive effect on your healing. Which isn't a proven theory, he says, but it'd be worth a shot. Anyways, it gave everyone something to do besides just worry about you. Usopp and Luffy were singing you songs about recovering that they made up themselves. You can be glad that you missed that, it was god awful." 

Sanji's brows crease in confusion. "Wait. How do you know all this? If you haven't been here the entire time." 

Zoro stares at him for a few seconds. "Uh. Cause we've been talking about you and what to do all the time. Obviously. Idiot cook." 

"Right." 

The two stare at each other silently until the silence becomes super uncomfortable and they both have to look away. 

Eventually, Zoro gets up. "Right. I guess I'll go get Chopper." 

He leaves quickly. Sanji notices that Zoro's three swords are laying on the sofa in the room, as if Zoro had been sleeping here. Come to think of it, Zoro leaving without taking his swords with him? He must be really out of it. 

Chopper comes in shortly after, beaming at Sanji. "Sanji! I'm so glad you're okay. There wasn't much I could do for you, all that we could do was sit around and wait for you to wake up again. How are you feeling?" 

After letting Chopper check him through thoroughly, Sanji feels like he has to address the elephant in the room. "I- I wouldn't have jumped. You know that, right? You guys are my family. I wouldn't do that to you. Not in a million years." 

Chopper nods and smiles at Sanji. "Yeah. Zoro said the same thing. Honestly, it was only really Bea that believed that theory. Robin was telling us all about the likelihood of suicidal ideation which made everyone super uncomfortable, but I don't think she actually believed in that either. After all, you're our Sanji, right?" Chopper laughs awkwardly, clearly at unease with the topic. 

Sanji reaches over and ruffles the fur on Chopper's head, the reindeer not wearing his signature hat at the moment. "Yeah. I'm your Sanji." 

Chopper seems greatly relieved at the reassurance, bouncing off the chair he'd pulled up. "Right! You can get up any time you want. Might feel a little dizzy at first from your circulation being so out of practise, so please take this cane. I know it looks silly, but just to make sure." Chopper runs to the corner of the room before coming back with a highly overcomplicated-looking metal cane with a few buttons on its side. 

Sanji smiles at Chopper warmly. "Well, if you say so, I'll make sure to use it. I'd be a fool to ignore our awesome doctor's advice after all." 

Chopper beams and flails his body around happily. "Oh shut up, you moron! I can totally see what you're doing, buttering me up. That won't work on me! Hehe." 

Chopper leaves him alone to do as he prefers after that, and Sanji uses the cane to get up. After the initial dizziness, he quickly regains his strength by practising his steps. 

He's feeling a little overwhelmed by everything, but at least his memory is finally clearing up on what had happened before. He'd heard... Zoro talking to Bea. Was that it? It feels right. 

But why would he have fallen? Did Bea see him jump? Is that why she assumes he did? 

He sighs, leaning heavily on the cane as he pauses. Nothing makes sense as of yet. Maybe talking to Bea would solve this mystery. But he can't deny that he doesn't exactly feel excited to talk to Bea. He'd been so eager to see her again right after waking up, but if what Zoro said is true... 

One single visit. In five days? He hates himself for comparing the situation to the reverse, but he would have spent every single waking minute at Bea's bedside. He'd have moved her sick bed into the kitchen to continue watching over her even as he took care of his duties of cooking for the ever-insatiable crew. 

He's not asking for too much. Is he? After all, they're not just friends. Bea is his girlfriend. Or... wife? Where's the image of her at the altar coming from? He shakes his head, feeling confused, but checks his ring finger just to make sure. Nothing. Okay, so he's not married. 

Still, married or not, she should have been there for him more. Is it because she thinks he jumped? Does she resent him for thinking he wanted to leave her behind? 

Sanji feels exhausted. He's slept for five days straight, but he doesn't feel like he has the energy to deal with Bea right now. That thought in and out of itself just drains him even further. That his own girlfriend, someone he loves with all his heart, is a burden to deal with. It makes tears well up in his eyes which he quickly swipes away. Damn fall, making him emotional like this. 

He finally makes his way out of the infirmary, only to immediately be floored by an overly enthusiastic Luffy. "SANJIIIIIII!!!!!! YOU'RE OKAY!" Luffy's basically yelling, wrapping his long rubber arms around Sanji and lifting him back up. His eyes are shining with excitement and relief. 

Sanji huffs. "Not if you send me to the floor like that, I'm not.", but he can't help but start smiling at the infectious energy. And when he looks around, all of the others are there too. Nami, Robin, Zoro, Chopper, Usopp and Luffy have all gathered to welcome him back to the land of the living. 

Robin's many devil fruit arms pass a "get well soon" card over to him, which he takes into his hands, smiling at what appears to be Robin's self-made drawing of some kittens nursing him back to health.

Nami has apparently baked a muffin with some decoration resembling Sanji's hair style which she's holding in her hands on a plate, beaming at him in relief and waving him hello.

Usopp has a manual in his hands about all of the awesome features that Sanji's cane has (which is another great invention by the amazing Captain Usopp TM). 

Zoro steps forward, patting Sanji on the shoulder. "Good to have you back, waiter. Finally we don't need to eat the crappy food Nami and Usopp have been putting together anymore." 

He goes down quickly after suffering a hit by Nami, who shouts at him. "Yeah then you try and make better food yourself next time! You didn't even try to help!" 

Sanji can't help but smile widely. His crew. His family. And when he spots Beatrice making her way towards the group, he feels such a huge weight lift off of him, that he nearly starts crying there and then. 

"Beatrice." He gazes at her lovingly. She's even more beautiful than he remembers her. 

"Hey there. Glad to see you up and about again. Gave us all a good scare." She's smiling back at him, and all of the rest of the world fades away at the sight of it. 

The other Strawhats discreetly slink back, Nami giving Sanji a wink before removing herself from the picture. 

Sanji hesitantly takes a step closer to Bea, but she moves towards him on her own already, pulling him into a big hug. It's a lot more tender and gentle than Zoro's was, this time Sanji can't feel any ribs cracking from the force alone, thankfully. 

The amount of relief he feels at her hug, at the proof that she does care, it's overwhelming. He'd felt so vulnerable, so scared of there being an issue between the two of them since he'd woken up again, but the hug reassures him and makes him feel safe once again. 

"Missed you", he murmurs into her hair, breathing in her scent like a man starved. 

She chuckles. "I thought you've been out cold for the past five days? If anything I was the one missing you." His heart soars with joy just hearing those simple words. 

"Really? You missed me?" 

"Of course I did, you big dummy. I was so scared you weren't going to wake up anymore." 

He rests his chin on top of her head. "I dreamt of you. A lot." 

"Good things, I hope?" 

He huffs. "Of course good things. You're the love of my life, I'd never dream or think ill of you." 

Bea hums. "Just making sure." 

She pulls back and looks at him, smiling. "You must be starving. Come, I made you something." 

He follows her to the kitchen, where everything is in far more disarray than he'd ever let it get to. Never having cooked in his kitchen before Usopp and Nami seem to not have known where to put most of the utensils back, so there a plenty of pans and pots standing around. At least they've been cleaned. 

On one of the kitchen counters lays what appears to be a simple ham and cheese sandwhich, accompanied by a bowl of suspiciously inedible looking salad. Bea presents the two things proudly. "Here! Something with some kick to it and some nutritious vegetables." 

He smiles and thanks her awkwardly, but eats dilligently. There's so much salad dressing that the hair on the back of his neck stands up straight from disgust, but he tries not to let it show and finishes the whole bowl before eating the sandwhich as well. 

He can't wait to get back into the kitchen and save himself from Bea's culinary horrors again. At least the muffin that Nami had made looked really tasty, he's very much looking forward to eating that. Just thinking about how his beloved Nami-Swan took the time and care to bake him something, and even decorate it with a silly piece representing his hair, it could make him swoon with happiness. Unfortunately, he did actually swoon a little bit, earning him a hefty smack on the head from Bea. "What the hell are you thinking about?!" She looks positively vicious, and Sanji is reminded of that phrase he once read in an old book: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned". 

He quickly clears his throat and smiles apologetically. "Sorry, my darling. Your salad is simply swoon-worthy." Her eyes narrow in mistrust, but she lets it go for now. 

Sanji can't help but let out a sigh. It's not been that long, and he's already pissed her off again. Couldn't she at least give him a bit longer of a recovery period before getting mad at him again?

Her furious voice reminds him of something. Something he'd tried to forget. A cruel and callous voice, making a horrible comment. Multiple horrible comments. 

He flinches as if struck, staring at Beatrice. "You told Zoro I'd hurt you." The memory comes rushing back to him. The horrible conversation he'd overheard. Resulting in the fall. 

Beatrice seems a little confused at the sudden change in topic, but quickly gathers herself. "Huh? But you did hurt me, darling. Don't you remember?" Her smile is so sweet, so kind. 

And she's right. He had hurt her, hadn't he? He'd hit her. Multiple times. Out of his own free will. No devil fruit or other outside force controlling his actions. His own hands, striking at her face, her beautiful, beautiful body that he so adored. 

His eyes widen with shock as he remembers it all. Tears well up involuntarily as he stares at her, lips quivering. "Oh god. Oh god, my darling, I'm so sorry. How could I hurt you? How could I do that to you?" 

Bea's eyes become calculating as she fixes him with a glare. "Because you're no more than your base instincts, Sanji. You were like an animal. It's been a week and a half and the bruises are only now disappearing. I had to lie and cover for you to Nami and Robin when they saw them in the shower, you know? The things I do for you." 

He wants to reach out to her, but his hand freezes mid-air. A choked sob escapes his throat as he starts begging. "My darling. Oh god. I don't know why- Why I would do something to you- you deserve so much better, you don't deserve to be treated like that, I'm so sorry, so, so, so damn sorry, please, please forgive me, I can't- I don't-", he trails off, not even knowing what he's saying anymore as his vision becomes blurry due to his tears. 

Beatrice steps closer, her hand finding Sanji's arm and stroking it up and down. "Ssh. It's okay. I forgive you. If you make it up to me." 

He's practically whimpering at this point. "Anything. I'll do anything. Oh god, darling, Beatrice, mon ange, I'm so sorry. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, I don't know how I could treat you this way. You poor, innocent angel. I'm so sorry." 

"Ssh." She shushes him once more. "It's okay, darling. You are but a man, at the end of the day. Barely more than an animal." 

Beatrice guides him to his room, where he falls asleep sobbing desperately against her chest, so eager for the comfort she provides. So desperate for the reassurance that he's not a monster. 

She holds him against her body, speaking soothingly, stroking his back, smiling to herself at just how dependent he's going to become on her from this point forth. 

Chapter 6: Poisson

Summary:

Poisson = Fish in French. These chapter titles are as close to culinary knowledge as I'll ever get. Zoro confronts Sanji.

Notes:

So yeah! Third chapter in one day. Don't ask me how. Guess it's all just one big writing flow. Originally I wanted to make the chapter a little longer, but I don't think there's any more to get out of Zoro's POV right at this moment, so we'll end it there to have a smooth swap back to our dysfunctional couple next time.

Zoro is starting to get seriously worried about Sanji. He's always been a bit stupid in the head - no wonder with ridiculous eyebrows like that - but Beatrice has been a terrible influence on him. And since Sanji's jump, fall, whatever it was, things have only become worse. So much worse. 

Sanji has started bending over backwards for Beatrice at every turn. He's made the crew wait for their meals, has neglected his night shift, even once insulted Robin at Beatrice's command. After which he'd profusely apologized and cooked Robin twenty different snacks to make up for it, but still. 

Sanji has changed, and Zoro's not the only one who can see it. But Zoro is the most worried. 

Nami's mostly shrugged the issue of as Sanji being a simp as per usual and has promised that if things stay the same or get worse, she'll have a word with Beatrice. 

Zoro has been talking to Robin about the issue a lot, but that hasn't exactly been helpful. In fact, it's made Zoro's worries just that much worse, but no wonder, with how many books on abuse and manipulation Robin had produced and started citing. Smart as he may be, Zoro had been completely overwhelmed with the sheer amount of information Robin had provided. Besides, Beatrice was a crewmate. She wouldn't have any reason to want to abuse and manipulate Sanji. She probably just had really shitty manners, social skills and no idea how to act in a relationship. Zoro still thought he'd be able to set her straight with a firm talking-to. 

Sanji has certainly been deaf to Zoro's words, no matter how many times Zoro tried to breach the subject. In fact, Sanji won't talk about Beatrice with him at all. He seems almost... scared, whenever Zoro brings her up. Not scared of Beatrice, but scared of Zoro. He's never acted that way before, and the two of them still bicker and fight normally outside of conversations about Beatrice, so Zoro's got no idea what the hell's going on. 

Zoro thinks back to that conversation he'd had with Beatrice in the crow's nest a lot. After that point, he hadn't really seen Sanji act normally anymore.

How Beatrice had told him all those vile things about Sanji. That he hadn't respected her comfort and properly abused her. Which Zoro doesn't believe any more now than he did then. 

But the true question is - why does Beatrice want him to believe that that is the truth? What on earth would she gain by making Zoro think Sanji was abusive. 

He's been more docile, more obedient towards Beatrice as of late, yes. But abusive? Zoro can't imagine that, no matter how hard he tries. 

As inofficial first mate of the crew, he feels that it is his duty to fix this. Luffy's too much of an airhead to ever suspect one of his friends of doing any evil, so it's up to Zoro. 

Zoro catches Sanji on his own as he's currently fishing on one side of the Going Merry. Luffy and Usopp are fishing on the other side. Zoro grabs his fishing rod and sits down beside Sanji. 

Sanji doesn't acknowledge him, just stares out at the sea. Normally Zoro is the first to enjoy the silence while fishing, but he can't do that today. Not when there are important matters to discuss. 

"Sanji". Saying his name feels strange. He can't remember the last time he'd called him by his name, if ever. It's always been "curly brows", "idiot", "waiter", or some other variation. 

Sanji snaps his head around to look at Zoro, eyes narrowing as he looks at him and the unfamiliar greeting. "Zoro." It's just as jarring hearing his own name back from the blonde's lips. 

The two stare at each other in silence for a short while before Zoro finally continues. "You're not happy." 

He's not even sure why that's what he leads with. All his ideas of how to approach this, carefully talked through with Robin in advance, thrown out for saying something so simple and so stupid. Great job, Roronoa, he chides himself.

"I didn't know you were suddenly an expert on feelings." Sanji's remark lacks its usual bite. It's not an insult, just a neutral observation. 

The two sit and fish in silence for a while until Zoro finally manages to continue. "I'm not. But you... you worry me." 

Sanji scoffs, clearly about to say something like "Since when do you care about me" out of habit, but he stops himself and falls silent. Neither of them are used to this sort of straightforward talk. No usual bickering, no random insults to hurl at each other's heads for once. That they care for each other is a given anyways, making such a remark redundant. 

"There's nothing for you to worry about. I didn't jump." 

"That's not what I mean." 

Sanji scoffs. "Then what are you concerned about?" 

"I don't think Beatrice is good for you." There. Now he's said it. The cat's out of the bag, and as expected, Sanji tenses up. 

"You have no idea what's good for me." Sanji is immediately defensive. Not the best start. 

Zoro sighs deeply. "Sanji. I wouldn't bring this up if I wasn't seriously worried." 

Sanji's fists clench around the fishing rod. "You should be worried for Bea. Not for me." 

Z: "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

S: "It means that- oh, whatever. Just forget about it." 

Z: "How am I supposed to forget about that?" 

S: "I don't care. Just... do." 

Zoro huffs in frustration and turns towards Sanji. "Come on, man. Talk to me. I can't help you if you don't-"

Sanji cuts him off and glares at him. "I don't WANT your damn help!"

Zoro falls silent for a few moments. "I think you need help, whether you want it or not." 

Sanji basically snarls and grabs Zoro by his collar quickly. "I don't give a damn what you think. Leave me alone, mosshead." 

He's back to the insults. Back to the safe territory of insults and banter, not willing to open himself up to Zoro. 

Zoro shoves him back. "We're not done talking about this. Sanji." He deliberately uses his name, trying to regain that fragile balance they'd managed to uphold mere seconds ago. 

But Sanji's had it with him. He can't face what he's done. He can't face the fact that Zoro knows about what he did to Beatrice. He can't accept the fact that Zoro knows that he's a monster. Maybe he'll want to tell the crew. Maybe he's looking for Sanji to confess and then he'll tell everyone. And then they'll see him for what he truly is. A monster, a vile pig, a disgrace to his friends, to the crew. 

So Sanji attacks Zoro with a flurry of kicks, sending him flying into the wall a short distance away from them. 

Why didn't he defend himself? He'd had his swords right at his fingertips, and Sanji knows just how quick Zoro is able to draw them, as countless previous sparring sessions have proven to him. 

Yet he just took his kicks.

Zoro groans and sits upright against the wall, holding his stomach in pain. Sanji hadn't held back, attacking Zoro with the usual ferocity, fully expecting Zoro's quick response and blocking of the kicks. 

Luffy and Usopp come rushing over from the other side of the ship. Luffy yells. "What the hell happened?" 

Sanji just stands there, hands in the pockets of his trousers, staring at Zoro without a word. Zoro gets up and comes over to them. "Nothing. Nothing happened." 

But his face is still twisted in pain. Sanji can't stand to see Zoro like that so he snaps at him. "Why the hell didn't you parry my kicks, shitty swordsman?"

Zoro's eyes fix on Sanji's and he snaps back. "Cause I was talking to you, not fighting you, you damned moron." 

Usopp tries to make peace between the two. "Now calm down, both of you, I'm sure if we just-" 

"Oh shut the hell up, longnose.", Sanji snaps. Everyone falls silent. It's increasingly obvious just how much Sanji has changed over the course of the past few weeks. 

Luffy frowns. "Sanji. Zoro. Why?" 

Zoro grimaces. "I was trying to have a serious conversation with him."

Sanji barks back. "I never agreed to having a conversation with you." 

Luffy looks between the two, clearly at a loss for what to do. Emotional intelligence isn't exactly his strong suit, after all. 

Eventually he settles for a diplomatic: "You need to fix this. Between you. Whatever it is." 

Then he strolls off to rejoin Usopp. 

Sanji and Zoro are left standing there. Finally, Sanji relents. "Want me to get some ice for your stomach?"

"I'll live. I'd rather you talked to me." 

Sanji's gaze darkens. "I overheard you and Bea on the crow's nest."

"I don't believe her. The things she said about you. I don't believe a word of it." 

"Well, you should." 

Zoro's face falls. He'd expected anything but that. "No. I don't- You wouldn't." 

"I would. And I did." 

"No. Sanji. There's no way." Zoro tentatively reaches his hand out towards Sanji, unsure of what he even wants to do with it. 

"There is a way. That's who I am. Just look at yourself." Sanji points to Zoro's stomach where his kicks are bound to leave a few ugly bruises. 

"No. This is... This is Beatrice's fault. This isn't you." 

"Blaming the victim, are you? How mature of you." It's a low blow, and Sanji knows it. But the words are out before he can stop them, hurt flashing across Zoro's face. 

Zoro clenches his fists. "Dammit. Stop. Stop being someone else for her. You're acting the exact way she paints you out to be. Can't you see that?" 

Sanji scoffs. "The way she paints me out to be? You're being delusional. She's told you who I am. Who I've always been. You're just too damn stubborn and stuck in your preconceived notions to realise it." 

Zoro shakes his head. "No. I don't believe it. I'm not going to let her convince me of that too, even if she's got you fully subscribed to the idea." 

Sanji's eyes flash with anger. "Then be delusional. Just... just stay away from me. I don't want your sympathy and I damn well don't deserve it."

Zoro looks after him helplessly as Sanji departs. 

Chapter 7: First main course

Summary:

With a chapter title that imposing I feel a little pressured to produce a good chapter. Sanji and Zoro work to overcome their differences.

Notes:

We're stepping on cannon material now. I'm going off of my memory alone because I want this work to remain independent and not lose itself in making sure to be 100% accurate to the manga / anime, so if I remember things wrong, then hooray for unique plot. Is it the fourth chapter in one day? Yes. Do I know how to restrain myself? No. Will there eventually have to be a horribly long break again? Please no. Content warnings: Mention of harassment, violation, Beatrice's usual shenanigans

Things haven't been so merry anymore aboard the Going Merry. Not since the huge fight between Sanji and Zoro. 

They've barely spoken to each other since besides a few obligatory words and Zoro's "thank you"s when being given food by Sanji. 

Beatrice had asked Sanji for another session of roughhousing. At this point, Sanji barely even felt like he had a choice anymore. He was a monster, he was scum. He beat women, he didn't differentiate between gender, nor between whether or not he was in love with whom he hurt. He's glad Zeff can't see him as he is now. He knows the old geezer would be more than disappointed. He'd be thoroughly appalled. He'd probably tell him that a monster like him could never be his son. That he regretted saving him. That he regretted sacrificing his leg for Sanji. 

Sanji loses weight. A considerable amount. Nami and Robin try to talk to him, but Beatrice punishes him harshly every time he speaks to them by denying him physical proximity as well as the love and affection he so craves. So he avoids Nami and Robin when they try to speak to him. Every now and then a hint of the old Sanji will surface and he'll swoon over them, but those ocassions become more and more rare. 

Even Luffy has been trying to talk to him and fix things. But it's always a stalemate with him. Luffy believes in Sanji and won't listen to Sanji talk himself down. So they get nowhere. 

Usopp and Chopper try to talk to Sanji as well, but Beatrice intervenes before they manage to have any effect. She tells them that Sanji is going through a very difficult time after hitting her, and that he needs to be left alone for now. The two of them want to do what's best for Sanji, so they comply. 

In turn, Sanji is completely isolated. The only person he has left is Beatrice. The Strawhats feel more divided than ever and what was once a joyful crew is now filled with mistrust. 

Zoro and Luffy start having long conversations with each other. They both know that this isn't right, that something needs to be done. But they simply don't know what to do. 

Things get even worse when they come across a small island where they meet Marine Admiral Aokiji. A fight breaks out during which Zoro, Luffy and Robin become frozen, encased in ice. 

Zoro had taken the hit for Sanji, and in turn, Sanji feels even worse. He feels useless, like he's barely worth the title of fighter on the crew anymore, his reduced weight and stamina subtracting from the power of his kicks. He watches over Zoro the entire time while he is encased in ice. He feels terrible for Luffy and Robin as well, but it's worst with Zoro. Zoro's condition he feels personally responsible for. He spends day and night hugging the ice statue that Zoro has become, hoping to warm him up as quickly as possibly with his own body heat whenever the shower stall is occupied with trying to save Luffy and Robin. 

One morning after a long night spent hugging the ice-cold Zoro he wakes up to find a lot of fluffy fur surrounding him. Apparently Chopper had changed into another one of his forms - the "cuddle point", judging by the look of him - to make sure Sanji wouldn't become too cold during the night. The sight and knowledge of his crewmate's care for him brings a bittersweet smile to Sanji's lips. 

He removes himself from the bed, letting Chopper hug Zoro instead. He knows the reindeer won't mind the coldness of the ice, or at least he assumes so. He gazes down at his crewmates wistfully before returning to his own quarters. While he loves Chopper for looking out for him, he simply doesn't feel deserving of it anymore. 

The next morning, he's woken up by screaming aboard the ship. It's Usopp, shouting "THEY'RE AWAKE! THEY'RE ALIVE! OH MY GOOOOOOODDDDD!!!" 

Sanji immediately rushes over to the infirmary, where Luffy is already up and about, demanding meat, while Robin is sitting up in bed with a gentle smile on her face. His heart sings with joy seeing the two of them alive and well, but his eyes immediately train on Zoro who's sitting on the edge of his sick bed, yawning. 

He can't help himself. It's like his feet have a mind of their own, carrying him over to Zoro before he can stop them. He pulls Zoro into a massive hug, burying his face against his shoulder. 

"You idiot.", he mumbles. "Don't go tanking hits for me like that." 

Zoro just huffs, mildly surprised, but is quick to return the hug. 

It's their first real interaction since their fight. Sanji had constantly worried over their fight being the last time he'd ever spoken to Zoro. His mind had spiralled and practically gone mad with worry and grief. It would all have been his fault. 

To get to hug Zoro once more, to get to insult him, it's more than he thought he'd get. So when the tears come, he doesn't stop them. 

Zoro doesn't react in the slightest, just keeps on holding him tightly in the hug. Sanji feels incredibly grateful for Zoro's stoic demeanor in that moment, this way none of the crew need to see his tears or get to see his trembling frame in the first place. 

They stay intertwined like that even once the others have cleared out of the room, Luffy eager to raid the pantry (which Sanji doesn't even care about whatsoever for once) and Robin eager to give the two some time to talk to one another. 

Once he's at least somewhat calmed down, Sanji speaks up hesitantly. "I think you were right. I do need help. I- I keep getting worse." 

Zoro doesn't say much. Just: "I'm here." But it's all Sanji needs in that moment. He doesn't need big proclamations. He doesn't require some intricate exclamations that he knows Zoro would never be able to provide in the first place. All he needs is for Zoro to be there. And he is. 

After Sanji has calmed down and his sobs have quieted down somewhat, Zoro speaks up again. "Thank you. For trusting me." 

Sanji nods and gives Zoro a small, teary smile. "Thank you for becoming an ice statue for me." 

Zoro gives him a lopsided, shit-eating grin. "I like taking long naps." 

"Idiot". 

"You're the idiot." 

"True." 

Sanji eventually huffs. "We look like a couple." 

Zoro scoffs. "Well, we're more affectionate than you and that damn girlfriend of yours." 

Sanji doesn't protest. He feels safe with Zoro. Far safer than he's felt with Beatrice in a very long while. But he can't help but crack a small joke regardless. "No homo." 

Zoro actually laughs at that. "No homo." 

Sanji moves back, awkwardly situated in Zoro's lap as he looks up at the other man's eyes earnestly. "I- I'd like to lay off the fighting with you for a while entirely. Like not even any play-fights. Is that okay with you?" 

Zoro nods immediately. "Yeah. Sure. Guess you're tired of losing." 

Sanji can't help but grin. "In your dreams, marimo." Then he sighs and settles in comfortably with his flank to Zoro's stomach, head resting against his chest. "Hold me for a while." 

It's not exactly a plea, but not quite a demand either. Zoro complies either way, wrapping his arms around Sanji once more. "I got you." 

"I don't want to be so alone anymore. I've always felt like that was the difference between my fami- between before I met the crew, and being with the crew. That noone was ever alone. But now everyone feels so split apart and it sucks and I can't- it's hurting me.", Sanji confesses. 

"I'm here." Those two simple words again. The inflection slightly different, but the meaning is clear. Sanji won't need to feel alone anymore. He's got his best friend by his side. His demons won't be easy to fight, but who better to fight them with than the demon swordsman himself? He shakes his head and chides himself for being so cheesy. 

Zoro speaks carefully and slowly. "Tell me about how you hit Bea." 

Sanji tenses up. Is this conditional? Will Zoro take back his offer of being there whenever he confesses? "She- she said that was something she liked. In an intimate context. Th-that it turned her on whenever I hit her." 

Zoro scoffs. "And you just did what she asked? How spineless are you?" 

Sanji's completely rigid in Zoro's arms by this point. That's it. The thing he'd feared. Zoro's gonna hate him for this. They'll all hate him for this. "I-I wanted to make her happy, even if it was through that horrible way." 

Zoro sighs and his grip on Sanji tightens. "Damned moron. Just like you to make yourself unhappy for a damned girl. Throwing away all your core values."

Sanji's words are just as stiff as his body. "I don't need your judgement." 

"Yeah, well, you're getting it." 

They fall silent for a while after that. Zoro eventually breaks the silence. "So you never truly hit her. Not in the way she was trying to make it look like." 

"For all intents and purposes, I did in fact-" Sanji is cut off as Zoro's hand comes to rest over his mouth. "Shut up and listen to me." 

Sanji glares at him through narrowed eyes but doesn't fight against Zoro's hold on him. Zoro continues. "You did as she asked you to. If you weren't such a damn chivalrous moron this would never even have been an issue in the first place. I can't believe it escalated into something this big. Look at us. Whole crew's in fucking shambles. Just because of your sex life. How stupid is that?" 

There's something about the way Zoro had phrased that. Or maybe Sanji is simply becoming hysterical. Either way, he can't fight back a strained laugh escaping him. 

Zoro scoffs. "Yeah. Laugh it up. Idiot. Beatrice told the whole fucking crew that you were an abusive dickhead. That you basically violated her. What the fuck is her problem?" 

Sanji falls silent at that, staring down into the ground. When he speaks he's got himself under control again, speaking quietly. "I don't know, Zoro. I don't know. I've been trying to do everything I can to make her happy. I- I know I'm a horrible person for hitting her and that I should never have done what I did. B-but I'd never- I'd never have done anything she wasn't okay with. I asked for her permission so many times, please, you've got to-" 

Zoro shushes him by cradling him in his arms. "Shuddup. I never doubted you." 

"Never?" 

"Never." 

"What about when-" 

"Never." 

"Okay. I'll shut up." 

"Didn't think you had a brain cell in that huge head of yours." 

"I hate you." 

Notes:

Notes: Zoro only got frozen because of Sanji's reduced fighting strength. If Sanji was at 100% performance, things would have happened like they did in the series. Beatrice's manipulations are starting to take their toll on the Strawhat crew.   Mock summary: Sanji finds out that he has better shipping chemistry with Zoro than with his own girlfriend. He curses the author for saddling him with someone as dysfunctional as Beatrice and wishes to ride off into the sunset with Zoro. Mock summary 2: When all feels broken apart, a certain green-haired swordsman gets up, says "Nothing Happened" and everyone gets to move on. After writing their banter (and it being 4:22 AM) I feel way too unserious to continue on writing angst. Maybe that's why this became more of a wholesome ZoSan bonding time than more BeaSan angst. Oh well. Consider this a filler episode, maybe. Depending on how it'll continue.

Chapter 8: Palate cleanser

Summary:

Contrary to what I said before, I am going to go along with the cannon plot in regards to Water 7. I really like the arc and I can already see plenty of opportunities to weave in distaster and drama. Yay! Plus, I'll take any excuse to rewatch One Piece ^-^

"Look! That frog is doing the front crawl!" 

"Are you kidding?! Frogs don't do front crawls!"

"Well then look for yourself!" 

Beatrice yawns as she hears the commotion from the crew. She's currently resting on a sofa, legs put up on a stool in front of her, Sanji massaging her feet. 

It's a good look on him. Some men really were made to serve. Although she must admit that this one is almost boringly subservient. Never even fights back. 

It's a good thing, but she is starting to get a little bored with him. Maybe she should flirt with Zoro a little. Stir up some drama between those two. She's noticed how close Sanji and Zoro have been lately again and she does not like it one bit. After all the work she had put in to separate Sanji from the rest of the crew and the stupid swordsman comes in and ruins all of her efforts. Such a nuisance. 

Now that is one man who is no good to her at all. Shame that he's so strong. She'd love to dispose of him one way or another. 

He's been talking with Robin so much more lately, and he's been giving Beatrice dirty looks. He's probably plotting something. Best keep your enemies close, she ought to find out what it is he's planning. He doesn't appear particularly smart, how hard could it possibly be? That man can't even follow a straight road. 

Sanji smiles up at her softly and asks. "Would you like to see what-" 

But he's abruptly cut off as the entire ship shakes. It appears they've run into something. 

"What the hell?" Sanji frowns and wants to get up, but Beatrice calls him back. "Sanji. They can deal with it on their own. Stay." 

At least he's obedient. His one benefit, boring as he may be. "Okay, mon ange. As you wish." 

"Hard to starboard! We're gonna crash! Oh god!", Nami's panicked voice can be heard from above. 

Sanji shudders. It's so hard for him to ignore Nami's calls, but Beatrice ordered him to stay so stay he must. Else he'll lose Bea's affections again. He can't risk that. 

Loud noises can be heard from outside. If that wasn't just absolutely ridiculous Sanji would assume what he's hearing is a train. But they're out on sea, how could there possibly be a train? 

More panicked screaming can be heard from above as Nami orders around the crew to avoid the certain crash with what does decidedly sound like a train. 

The entire ship is thrown around as they can feel it plummet into the waves. Bea nearly falls off of the sofa, but Sanji manages to catch her in his arms just in time. 

He's very happy with himself for getting to save her, grinning stupidly as he loses himself in another fantasy of being her knight in shining armor, when Bea snaps him out of it. 

"Hey. Go check what's up." 

Sanji sighs, sad to have his romantic moment interrupted so soon, but he lets go of Bea after giving her cheek a small, affectionate kiss, as he heads out on deck to check what's up. 

He returns not long after, letting Beatrice know about Granny Kokoro and Luffy's plans to hire a shipwright in Water 7. 

Beatrice nods. "An island full of shipwrights, huh? Well that's good. I doubt that there are many female shipwrights. At least you'll be loyal to me for once." 

Sanji flinches as if struck. "Mon ange. I'm always loyal to you." 

Beatrice rolls her eyes and fixes him with a glare. "Are you, now? You were awfully cozy with Zoro the other day." 

Sanji's jaw goes slack and his cigarette falls out of his mouth. "W-with Zoro? Awfully cozy? What are you trying to say, darling?" 

Beatrice narrows her eyes at him. "That you're a little close for comfort with the swordsman. What's up with that?" 

Sanji splutters, turning slightly red as he defends himself. "Nonsense, chérie. I don't swing that way. Besides, you're the only one I love. Why would I want the shitty swordsman of all people when I have you?" 

Beatrice gives him another glare before leaning back on the sofa. "You tell me. I'd prefer if you didn't get so cozy with him all the time. One could think the two of you were in love." 

Sanji's frown deepens and so does his blush. "That's nonsense, darling. You're seeing things." 

Luffy, Nami and Usopp head out to go trade in the gold from Skypeia as Beatrice, Sanji, Zoro, Robin and Chopper stay behind. 

Robin lets everybody know about some of the island's specialities, like the fact that plenty of Water 7 can only be accessed through water canals and that the inhabitants use small boats pulled by animals to get around. 

Sanji's immediately twirling around happily. "Oh! We could have a romantic little getaway, just the two of us, Rob- Beatrice, sweet!" His initial course of twirling had been towards Robin but he catches himself just in time and swerves back around towards Beatrice. 

Beatrice is thankfully too busy glaring at Zoro to pay him much mind. "Sounds like a place that's easy to get lost in." 

Zoro huffs and fires back at her. "Yeah? Make sure you don't get lost then. I'd be happy to leave you behind." 

Sanji stops his twirling, looking between the two of them in horror. Things are never usually this hostile amongst the crew. In fact Zoro has always been the one looking out for everyone and making sure they get along, but now he's the one antagonizing Beatrice. 

Chopper is silent, looking uncomfortable with the hostility present, and Robin just views the scene silently. 

Beatrice scoffs. "Some first mate you are. Do you want us all to jump ship?" 

Zoro's glare is unwavering. "Nah. Just you." 

Sanji clears his throat awkwardly. "I-I'm sure marimo doesn't mean it like that, mon ange." 

Zoro scoffs at that. "Damn right I mean it like that. I'm sick and tired of your bullshit, Bea." 

Beatrice snarls, drawing her lips back like a feral animal. "Yeah? And what is it you're doing? Trying to abuse your higher position to turn everybody against me. You just have something against me personally so you try and manipulate everyone on the crew to your favor. Don't think I don't know what you're doing." 

Sanji tries to intervene. "Please, both of you, calm down. I'm sure that if we just settle down and think this over we can work this out in some way. Okay? Set aside our differences. We're part of this crew, no matter if we all like each other or not." 

Sanji gives a pointed glance to Zoro who just shrugs and crosses his arms as he replies. "Not all of the members of this crew seem to be focused on the well-being of the others here, though." 

Beatrice bares her teeth in what barely qualifies as a smile. "Says the person who only cares about playing with swords and napping all day." 

Sanji sighs. "Chérie, please. Let's not fight each other, okay? I'll make you a nice lovely cocktail and grab a lounger for you. The weather's lovely today, isn't it?" 

It's a weak attempt to distract everybody, but he hopes that it'll work. 

Zoro seems to have had enough of the discussion as he just scoffs and heads off (presumably to take yet another nap.) 

Chopper quickly excuses himself to prepare some medicine in his office as Robin heads off to drink some coffee as well. 

Beatrice turns to Sanji. "He's impossible, isn't he? Making me feel so unwelcome here. I already feel like I don't belong with how I'm the newest crew member." She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout, looking up at Sanji helplessly. 

He could absolutely melt when she looks all innocent and cute like that, so he nods, eager to please her. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm so sorry he said those mean things to you. You don't deserve that at all. Would you like me to have a word with him?" 

Beatrice shakes her head. "No. He'll continue to hate me no matter what. I just know he will. There's no use." Her bottom lip is actually quivering now. Sanji can feel himself getting a little weak in the knees. 

"Oh, mon amour. I'm so sorry. He's such a brute, you don't deserve to be treated like that at all." 

Beatrice nods in affirmation. "Honestly, Zoro reminds me a lot of my abusive ex. They're very similar in a lot of ways." 

Sanji's eyes widen in shock. "Z-Zoro... reminds you of your ex?" 

Sanji's mind starts spinning. So her ex must have been somebody Beatrice was attracted to once upon a time. If Zoro is like the ex, then is he also somebody that Beatrice finds herself attracted to? Surely she wouldn't prefer the shitty swordsman over him though. Right? There's no way. No woman could possibly love a ball of moss that only rarely bathes more than once a week. 

Beatrice nods solemnly. "A little, yeah. They both have these little habits, you know? Because of that, I don't feel safe around Zoro. To hear him say those awful things about me as well... it just makes everything so much worse." 

Sanji nods, eager to please and agree with her. "I get it. I really should have a word with him, then." 

Bea shakes her head again. "No, like I said, forget about it. There's no use."

Now it's Sanji's turn to pout. "But I need to make you feel happy and welcome on the ship. How am I supposed to do that when you feel so unsafe around Zoro?" 

Beatrice lets out a long suffering sigh. "Well. There's only one thing I could think of. But I'm asking for too much really." 

Sanji perks up eagerly. "Anything, my love. I'll do anything you ask of me." 

Beatrice bats her eyelashes up at him. "If you spent less time with him, I'd cross paths with Zoro less, of course. Then he wouldn't get to be mean to me as much." 

Sanji gulps, his throat suddenly dry. "Y-you mean it's my fault for hanging out with Zoro? That he'd leave you alone if I didn't hang out with him so much?"  

"Exactly. But of course I can't ask something like that of you. He's your best friend, after all." Beatrice's coy expression is tugging at Sanji's heartstrings. 

"No, no, that's okay. He's just a shitty swordsman, we're not that close anyways." 

Beatrice's eyes widen in faux shock. "Really? I always thought you were close. With how much time you spend together." 

Sanji forces a smile and shakes his head. "Nah, we just want to bash each other's heads in most of the time. No wonder we argue so much, right? Hah." 

Beatrice hums in contentment. "That's great to hear. Then spending less time around him won't affect you at all. I'm glad, Sanji. I wouldn't want to be a burden on you or those you consider friends. But if you don't care for Zoro anyways then this won't even be an issue to begin wtih." 

Sanji feels like he's skating on ice for the first time. Everything feels far too slippery right now and he's unsure of how to regain his balance of managing his relations with the crew while also pleasing Beatrice at the same time. "Of course you're not a burden, sweetheart. You could never be a burden. You come first. Always." 

I'll keep updating the fic on here once I keep writing, but AO3 is a lot more reliable in terms of actually getting updates first!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58304974/chapters/158023099#workskin

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 5 6:32pm

Now here we are, in the present, where I’m back after 3 years at 20 years old. Where I’ve learned and grew so much outside of this cage, where I was free from the dark chasm in my life and heart that is home. Where every second around you makes me feel 8 and 10 and 12 and 15 and 17, all simultaneously and all over again. Of course, the abuse has stopped, it stopped a long time ago, but when you have PTSD, things get really muddled. And, yes, I’m an adult now, teaching at an elementary school, and taking care myself for the most part. So, what’s so bad? Well, I’ll tell you.

When I’m back in my childhood bedroom, sleeping on an air mattress, with ALL of my younger siblings, as an adult. When there’s another bedroom that could have been used, but why would it be, when my stepdad uses it to get ready for work, to house the hundreds of products he purchased from Amazon, and in case you forgot from earlier, the thousands of dollars worth of workout equipment that he uses once every 2 months. OH! And get this! His mother is living with us right now, and she now gets that bedroom. Wild, right?

When I’m back to being the in-house, unpaid nanny for the kids. To feed them, watch them, help them with homework, and yes, to correct any misbehaving and report only the extremes. When my stepdad decides he’s bestowing me the responsibility of “supervising the kids cleaning the room”. When he comments on how responsible I’ve always been, and offers me to be back on their car insurance, even though I was never removed from it. 

When he comes in the door, and immediately starts yelling and blaming everyone for how “messy” the house is, and to “get this crap off my stuff”, and “who touched my shelf?”. OH, THE SHELF! When he has a whole shelf in the refrigerator that is dedicated to separate all of his groceries for his vegetarian diet and his on-brand food items that cannot be disturbed by anyone else. When he subjects my mom to buying the cheapest version of all food products, but specifically asks for her to only buy specific brands for him. When he has 2 tables in the kitchen for juicing that cannot be used as counter space by anyone but him. When he’s telling me about the health benefits of one of his juices (or as he calls it every time, “a concoction”), and adds, “Bet you didn’t know that when you were vegan, huh?”. When he continues to not allow anyone to use the washer in the evenings when he gets home because he needs to wash his uniform daily. Also! When no one is allowed to use the only bathroom in the house for at least 3 hours, because he needs it reserved.

When he consistently forgets our birthdays or details of what’s going on in our lives because he doesn’t ask, until my mom tells him of an achievement we’ve made and forces him to congratulate us. When he’s rushing to get to where he’s going and he’s bounding and pushing throughout the house telling everyone to get out of his way because he has poor time management and forgets that there’s 8 people in this tiny house right now. When he asks us a question and we answer, but he doesn’t care because his focus is always elsewhere, so he yells at us that we’re ignoring him. When he impulsively decides to buy the kids something or take them out to eat, and he constantly complains about he could be watching Tv instead or badgering the kids about how much it costs. 

When you misinform your kids by telling them inaccurate retellings of American and Black history. When you feign authority over whether they can go out with a friend, just to forget about it until the time arrives. When you preach about respect and manners, but continue to disrespect and treat me as a child and allow your kids to do the same. When you brag about accolades and compliments from your job because of said respect and manners, even posting a letter on the fridge, but never celebrating any of us for our accolades and compliments.

When you force me to pay you and mom at least $100 a week ($500 a month) as a rent-adjacent payment to help my mom with groceries and bills, just like you used to. When you constantly lecture me about getting a car, but don’t allow the full autonomy of my finances by threatening my ability to stay in my childhood home with the payments. When you try to tell me how to do my job teaching, when you have zero experience of the sort, and try to speak in a proper manner to match my manner of speaking. When you project your superiority/inferiority complex onto me when you ask me about college, by trying to act that you’re more intelligent than me and more knowledgeable about the subject I’m literally having to explain to you.

When you constantly forget about my mental disorders and my therapy and my medication, then you ask me about them as if it’s your time hearing it, even though you know that my mental health is the whole reason I moved back home. When you weaponize your willful ignorance against everyone in the house, especially my mom, to excuse your participation and involvement in our lives.  When you bought walkie-talkies as an updated way of summoning everyone to your room to heed your request, like a bell system that you ring when you need an attendant, saying, “[insert name], report to the bedroom.”, because you can’t be bothered to function independently at home or talk to your family normally. 

How you require that whenever we enter your room to listen to you, that we stand on the side, “where you can see us”. How you make my mother wash all of your clothes or prepare your shower. How my mother goes out of her to make your choice of dinner every night, but you consistently change your mind and inconvenience her, or how my mother is currently in school to get her degree and has HOMEWORK, just to get frustrated when your wife isn’t able to spend time with you. How you selectively recognize that my mom is overworked, just to blame it on us, rather than stepping up and being the parent that you should be. 

How you ask me to complete your online training and learning modules for your job, despite me not knowing anything about truck driving or transporting oil and that you don’t pay me to complete what you should be completing on your own, again, for your job! How you are teaching your kids to stereotype other marginalized communities by saying, “All Mexicans eat guacamole”, or “Those Asian people look like they squint because they’re eyes are too small”.

How you literally decide to manspread every chance you get and take up so much unnecessary space, and force everyone to move around you and yell when someone can’t get around you, when I’m literally taller than you. How you insult your kids daily by calling them stupid, dumb, clumsy, blind, deaf, etc., when it’s because of your own failings as a parent that they don’t meet your expectations of them. How you lie to everyone not in the household in front of all of us about how you act as a parent. How you lie to your kids saying that a box of doughnuts has been sitting on your table for 3 days and needs to be thrown out, when I just bought it that same afternoon. How you don’t know how to react if the kids have a medical emergency because you don’t know their conditions, medications, and what they’re for.

How you manipulate your kids into serving you (“helping you”) by painting it as spending time together, which is the only time you spend together.

How you constantly speak in very vague and general terms, saying “that thing”, “your stuff”, “over there”, then get frustrated and insult everyone’s intelligence because you can’t think of ways to speak in a more clear and intelligent manner, and expect us to be able to always know what you’re speaking of.

How you asked me why I never come home, and I told you a half-truth. How you’re so observational, yet not perceptive. Because if you were, you would at least have the self-reflection to be able to understand that you’re a despicable, horrible piece of shit excuse for a human being, not even a man. How you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror and realize how you scare everyone with your tantrums and violence. How you can’t even recognize that it’s your fault that things are the way they are, and you can’t expect children to have that level of understanding. How you think you’re so exceptional as a person and as a “parent”, but it’s all a delusion that you make yourself believe because you were raised in the same exact way. How you can’t realize that you were traumatized as a child and as much as I know you hated it yourself, you didn’t strive to be different than your father, you strove to get your chance to do the same. 

How you willingly and knowingly married a woman with two sons, and looked at them, and decided to treat them with violence and vitriol, instead of realizing that they don’t have positive father-figures and that you should be different. I hate you for who you made me become. And you’ll never be a parent to me.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 4 6:32pm

When I was 15, I was forced to get a job to pay for all of my school fees. I had to convince my future manager to give me the position illegally because I would eventually turn 16 in 3 months, which was the legal age to work at the time. After I got the job, you told my mom to force me to give her all of my paychecks to help her with the bills and groceries, and confiscated my money to use as an allowance for me. So, when I continued to be your perfect little pawn, then, I would slowly get the money I needed for my school activities. You used that opportunity to stop helping my mother with the bills, even though she made half as much as you, and a little after I was 16, you had 2 new cars and started your impulsive Amazon shopping habit that turned the extra bedroom into the “workout room” that it is today. I wasn’t even allowed to save for a car because I didn’t have my permit, which is because you and mom decided not to teach me until a year later because I wasn’t “making enough to get a car in the first place”. How does that make sense?

I decided to take inspiration from my father and turn vegan during my sophomore year. I had to learn how to grocery shop on my own for my diet, and cook for myself because he didn’t need “his wife” taking extra time to focus on my “unnecessary needs”, which was fine, I learned so much from that time. But, he also asked me questions everyday about the benefits of veganism and the recipes I was making and how much things costs because he wanted to “cut down from 330lbs to 260lbs”. He tried to make me feel antagonized for being vegan and that I was a burden on my mother for it, but also showed interest in it, then all these years later, he’s vegetarian now because he was inspired by me.

When I was 17 and a senior in high school, I didn’t have the motivation to truly apply for scholarships and to college due to my severe depression. No one ever asked or checked in on how that process was going, because it was assumed that I was doing great in school and would go to college, true, but still. I received no assistance searching for schools and scholarships, and it was because of my teachers that I received my full-ride scholarship to an almost Ivy League-level school. I wasn’t even excited when I received it because I was anxious to tell you all. And, I was right to, because you both weren’t even excited when I told you, the interaction lasted 2 seconds. Yet, you both turned around and gushed to everyone who would listen and on social media of how proud you were of me and how hard I worked. You wouldn’t even tell me that yourself.

I told my counselor about some of the trauma that you put us through because I wrote about it in my essays. I also wrote about how I found out that you were beating my mom, after she told me that she wanted to divorce you. I made the counselor promise me that she wouldn’t report it because the abuse stopped years ago, but while I was house-sitting for my mom’s boss, CPS came to the house. I admitted that I talked to the counselor about some things that happened at home, and my mom told me that she was glad that I was staying at that house because you were threatening to kill me.

I was part of the ever-controversial class of 2020. So, before the COVID lockdowns started, I was already planning for prom and graduation. I asked my “parents” for assistance paying for some of the costs needed to have the prom and graduation that I deserved, I guess I should have expected that you would say no. And, it was a slap in the face when you both told me to research how to make my graduation invitations and find a photographer, to not only pay for by myself, but to send to all of my and my mom’s family and to yours. And after the lockdown, and all those plans were canceled, you only threw me a party after my Nana told me she was making me a cake.

James decided to “gift” me his second pickup truck for graduating. Not mentioning all of the functional issues the truck had, and directing me to pay the $3,000 dollars worth of work that needed to be done to it. Then, after asking him if the truck would survive the 3-hour trip to Atlanta, he told me that he didn’t know and that I should continue fixing it. 2 weeks of me starting college, the truck was out of commission and he refused to help me figure out what to do. And a year later, after paying $1,500 of parking fees for a broken truck, he finally came down and scraped the truck, but kept all the money from it. It’s no surprise though, since through my 2 and a half years of college before this “gap year”, I never received any financial support from my adults.

I spent every break trying to avoid coming home. I took advantage of the fact that my college offered to house students who have abusive households over the break. Especially after my first Christmas break, where mom and I had our fight about literally all the trauma that I have endured from my supposed “father-figures”, that she continues to ignore, excuse, defend, and support. When my school denied me the opportunity to stay on campus the summer after my sophomore year, I thought I was going to be homeless. I wasn’t allowed back home after the fight, and I had no where else to go. But, after talking to my dad’s side of the family, I went back to where I grew up to stay with them. Of course, only to endure more abuse and more “conversations” of them defending my dad, because apparently, my whole family is fucked all the way up!

After I returned for my junior year, I thought things were going to be great. I was finally moving on from all the shit that you and everyone else did to me. But of course, scary men still exist, and after experiencing yet another triggering, traumatic event, I was done with this life that I’ve been dealt. Hence, the medical leave, or as most people refer to it, “a gap year”, and moving to New York with my sister, and then, having no choice but to move back home when everything fell apart.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 Part 5

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 3 6:32pm

When I went to the high school 5 minutes away from our house, I was in the Honors Academy and still in the Band program. I was busy, with afterschool rehearsals and homework that I couldn’t easily breeze through. It threw a wrench in how the household functioned because you relied on me to pick up your slack as a parent and to take the pressure off my mother. You asked my mother to make me quit the Band program, and when I refused, you made me pay for everything myself and forced me to find a ride home every practice or show. 2 months later, you asked my mom to take me out of the Honors Academy because you thought it was “too difficult because it took so much time”, to which we both refused. But, if it was a sport, would you have reacted the same? I doubt it, considering that you jumped at the fact that Anthony started playing basketball. You blatantly tried to sabotage my high school career and life to take advantage of me. Not to mention, you didn’t graduate high school and you don’t have a GED because you went to jail instead, so why would you try to disturb how well I was doing; the top 5 of my class and the first chair of my section, when you should know what you missed and sacrificed?

By that time, the girls were in elementary school, the same one my mom works at, and now I do too. You made it a personal responsibility to show up for every parent event that they asked you to, and you bragged about how you were making time for it, or how much money you spent taking them out to eat before going. Way to go! I hope you are so proud that you make your kids feel like a burden with how much you speak like that. ALSO, how you rubbed it in my and Anthony’s faces because every time we invited you to “Doughnuts with Dad”, you refused and said it was a waste of time.

I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my friends because it took me away from my responsibilities at home and because my friends were girls. I was bullied because my closet was made of glass, I didn’t know how to connect with my male peers, and I was one of 3 black kids in my grade in the Honors Academy. Neither you or my mom were checking in on me or my grades or how I was doing in high school. You never taught me how to make friends, didn’t warn me of discrimination in a conservative, racist area, and didn’t teach me that there was nothing wrong with me for being me. But, that’s because you didn’t make me feel safe at home and made me feel like I was crazy for thinking that our home wasn’t right. You took and manipulated my mother right in front of me for years, until I realized there was no point in hoping or wishing for a support system. Yet, when we’re out in public, we’re one large, happy family with an amazing life, but behind closed doors, we all shiver with anxiety under the wrath of the king with no visible throne. Things couldn’t be more twisted.

Every day, you walk in the door and immediately call out everything that was wrong. This shoe is out of place, the washer is being used, there’s a tissue box on “your” counter, when everyone, except you, has allergies. Or, did you forget after all this time of your wife needing weekly shots, and all of us kids needing to take medicine every morning and night? 

You consistently pride yourself on being an “observational” person. You’re not “confrontational”, so you “sit back and take note of what’s going on around you”. I think you mean to say that you look for all the problems that bother you, and when you explode about this thing or that we need to clean up “this mess”, you excuse yourself from having to get involved and parent your kids by saying you’re not “confrontational”. 

We are a 7-person household, where all of us kids sleep in what is supposed to be the living room, and you have one of the bedrooms monopolized as your “workout room” that you don’t even use. We don’t have the space to have a properly organized and clean look. You disregard functionality for presentation, and as soon as you hear the context of the situation after we repeat it for 8th time, you deflect and say to just throw it away. But, you’ve been promising that we would get a new house since I was 10. I’m 20 now, and look, same house AND same behavior!

Daily, you find something that frustrates you and instill fear in everyone. You have such a superiority/inferiority complex with your family and the public that it leaves you with such a scary pattern of irrational violence. You never take the time to teach your kids the same standards or lessons that Anthony and I were expected to meet, and then, you throw a tantrum when they don’t do things the way you want them to. You’re an adult and a parent, we’re kids. We don’t understand how to establish a routine of cleanliness and organization isn’t a talent, it’s a skill. But, you’re so observational, yet you haven’t realized or noticed that the problem isn’t us, it’s you. Because you have such high expectations and such extreme outbursts, but you don’t raise your children to understand and teach them how to meet them and avoid what you call a “consequence”.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 4 Part 5

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 2 6:32pm

Now, I introduce you to our new roles. I became the “golden child”; conditioned to get the perfect grades and carry out all orders timely and perfectly. I was the “nanny and pseudo-parent”; directed to take care of my siblings, provide food for them, get them ready for school, help with homework, and handle any misbehaving and report only the extremes. I was the “maid”; the only child in the house with chores, which meant I had all of them, even cleaning up after my “parents”. And, I was the “butler”; I had to deliver everyone their plates, eating last, and take James’ dishes after every meal and bring him a hot cloth to clean his hands. I became depressed, anxious, and extremely hyper-independent, curling in on myself and realizing this is not what “home” should feel like. I was “maturing” fast, and my adults took advantage of it.

Anthony was the “rebellious child”. He was more outwardly angry, picked fights at school, and sought comfort in his friends. He wasn’t trusted with responsibility, so he didn’t receive any. And, eventually, the rules and standards that were established with me, as the oldest, didn’t work with him. He gradually grew more and more distant with the family, as I was becoming the crutch for them.

My two little sisters, and soon-to-be youngest brother, were raised more graciously, still servants to the king and with the same emotional detachment. Thankfully, they never had to experience the abuse that Anthony and I had to endure. So, while they love their father, because that’s all they know, they don’t know the true terrors of that man, and I’m truly grateful that they won’t ever go through that. 

My mother suffered as you put all of the parenting responsibilities onto her, as you forced her to attend to every need and want you spoke of, as you made her shoulder the finances to keep the house fed and taken care of. You, however, would go to your job (I can’t even remember which one because you job-hopped so much), come home, claim and monopolize the washer and the bathroom for hours, shut yourself in your room to watch “your” TV, beg and call for “your wife” to come spend time with you while asking her to do everything for you, ignore your kids and yell at them to stay quiet, and go to sleep. This is your daily routine, even now in the present.

I left my home because of you. I was 10, and my father had reappeared back in my life for the past 2 years. After visiting him twice, he offered me to come live with him, and I took it because anything’s better than here, right? WRONG. My dad is a whole other story, but I came back after a year. You would think that would be enough time for change to take hold, but it didn’t, and how could there when the space is constantly suffocated and stifled with immaturity, unintelligence, and vitriol. 

The standard was to get all the chores done before you got home and without being told, which is normal, if you disregard the fact that you threatened to beat us within an inch of our lives if we didn’t do so. You did plenty of times before. Having to hide bruises with long-sleeved shirts, oversized hoodies, and pants in the summer, and excusing ones on my face with stories of rough-housing or accidental falling against a cabinet. 

The standard was to watch the kids at all times, and make sure that they don’t get into trouble. Once, when Malia was learning to stand up on her own, she fell and hit her forehead on a vent, while I was changing a movie for Anthony and I. I was beat and blamed for that accident, and wasn’t allowed to watch anything because my focus should be on them. Once, Anthony locked both Malia and Jasmyn in the car with the keys as they were still infants, and I was inside putting on my shoes, my “parents” still taking their time to leave for church. After I tried calming Anthony down from a panic attack and telling James, Anthony was stomped in the chest against a fence, my mom barely getting him off, and I was punched in shoulder and shoved against concrete while you spat that I should have never let it happen. We were left at home that day. 

Once, I was riding in the trunk with the top open, as we got home late, and a shooting happened right in front of me in the street, us kids still in the car in the driveway. You and Mom were in the house because we weren’t allowed out of the car until you said so. You were angry that I didn’t do more to protect my siblings, that I confided in my teacher what happened, and that I woke you up when police came banging on the door at 2am. I was 11. And I had nightmares for months.

Once, you threw Anthony against the washer and beat him in front of your two extended family members at Christmas because he took too long to take out the garbage. Then, your family decided to praise you for it and talk about it, as if it wasn’t brutal and my mom didn’t have to pull you off of him.

Things got better in their own way after my youngest brother was born. I was 12, almost 13, at the time. You magically stopped. I still don’t know what changed to make you stop.

But I still wasn’t your kid.

You started to refer to me and Anthony as “boy”, and nothing else. You made sure to tell us and show us that we were separated from our siblings. You would probably say that we had to earn our keep or that we learned some lesson, but that’s not the truth. You have other kids that are much older than us, and you never contact them or tried to do right by them. I think when my mom told me that years ago, I should have realized sooner the type of man you are.

Part 1 -- Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 6:32pm

Today, we’ll be diving into the wonderfully enraging topic that is my stepfather.

It is truly baffling yet underwhelming that a man such as he, exists. And till the day I die, I will continue to wish the most ruthless hell for that man. So, let’s start from the beginning…

The thing about James is that he’s a deceiver. Someone with many masks, with two sides like a coin, a shapeshifter, if you will. I will never forget the first night I met James, I was only 7 at the time. You could feel the dishonesty in every breath he breathed, with words that hid his true identity. I remember telling my mom I didn’t like him when she asked, after he left. Whether fortunate or unfortunate, she remembers too. 

I learned the context for his odd behaviors long after the time, but he always hated the house we lived in at the time. He would always come home irritated for some unknown reason, acting in very brash ways. My mother would inform me years later that he hated living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed, eating at the same table, as the boyfriend that came before him. So, I guess the only logical solution would be to move, right? At least partially, no?

We had a wonderful 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom house, around the corner from my Nana. My younger brother and I had friends in the neighborhood, and would scooter around the corner to see our Nana, Grandpa, and Uncle. We went to a science academy, and my mom was doing absolutely marvelous as a single parent. But we moved. To a 2-bedroom, 1-bathroom house, 20 minutes to the next state, infested with roaches and mice, all for a little over $500 a month because dear old stepdad had a friend! And as a bonus (which was really the whole point), he got to call everything his! And did!

Anthony and I are almost 4 years apart, so I was almost 8 and he was 4. We moved churches, and it was like you were a completely different person. You would smile and laugh and joke and would be affectionate. But then again, there were people saying, “Oh, look at well behaved your boys are, James!”, “Your boys are so handsome, James!”, “I know they’re going to grow up just like their daddy!”. Umm… excuse me miss, sir, I’m standing right here and THAT is not my dad.  

We would go to our local BlockBuster and would be so excited to see the amazing place that brightened our eyes every time we went. You know, because every kid loves an outing. But, of course, it wasn’t for us. Ever. We weren’t allowed to look at the kids movies, weren’t allowed to ask to see the games they had, just wait for James to pick out the 4 or 5 movies or tv shows that he and his fiance (our mom) get to watch. Thank the universe for Nana for getting us a Wii, because all there was before that was trying to find ways to play with each other or watching wildly inappropriate TV with our “two parents”. Because seeing nudity and sex scenes are important for 8 and 5 year-olds to become men, right James?

Remember that time when me and Anthony were giving each other wedgies because we thought that shit was hilarious? Then, you punched me in the face so hard I flew into and broke our bookcase? Remember that time I stayed up all night playing video games, and you held and choked me against the wall? Remember that time when we lost one of the games we rented from BlockBuster, and after we found it, you threw every single toy, movie, book, game we had in the dumpster? And if not, oh well, because it didn’t stop there!

After my little sister was born, time sped up real fast. All of a sudden, they’re getting married, while just the five of us are standing in the pastor’s office, and I’m holding Malia and deemed “best man”, the day after my birthday. He said to me, “Well, now when you’re grown, you can tell your girlfriend that we got married right after your birthday!”. Then, we’re changing the house layout to where their bedroom and the living room are switching places because we need more space. I’m, now, given the esteemed responsibility as “baby-sitter” at age 8. My mom was pregnant again, and my sisters were going to be 10 months apart. Oh! And the most important bit, Anthony and I were now, “not his kids” (trademark it), and the violence got so much worse.

So, as he built himself a kingdom amongst rags instead of riches, where he is the sole king (without a queen), everyone else became his servants.  Everything in the house now had the possessive “my”, every single thing done in the house needed to meet your standards, everyone had to heed your requests and desires, no matter how untimely, and everyone had to be your audience as you spoke of promises for better that never came.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

*Trigger Warnings: Details and Descriptions of su*c*d* attempt, su*c*d*l ideations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, drug use, guilt, anxiety, bipolar depression, PTSD symptoms, eating disorder, passive aggressive humor.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 7

12:06pm

So yeah, I tried to kill myself. Emphasis on “tried”. I packed up all my shit, so that you and Gem wouldn’t have to touch it or look at it. I took those pills, all of those pills, because I couldn’t and still can’t cut myself. And, I waited in an alley 2 blocks from your apartment in the biting cold for 3 hours, so I wouldn’t die in the apartment, your home.

That slap must hurt, doesn’t it?

Then… nothing.

Nothing happened happened that is. I waited 3 hours, watching Steven Universe to leave with my last chance at happiness and nothing fucking happened. “Oh well”, I thought.

So, I got up, walked back to the apartment, called an ambulance because I took a shit ton of medication that was going to do something other than k*ll me. Went to the hospital, told them not to call you for a few hours because I didn’t care to. The drugs kicked in and I was high out of my mind, couldn’t even walk by myself (HA! LOL), and then… there you were.

I only remember two bits from that conversation. 1.) That you got me food because I realized I hadn’t eaten in however long I was there. And 2.), That you were kicking me out, said I couldn’t come back, that first you felt guilt that switched to anger, that you're "shipping me back to my mom", that what would I think if Gem found me dead in my room, and what would it be like for you both to have to find a new place. And I said, “I’m sorry”.

And I still have more sorry's to give. I know that what I just said was hurtful and unfair and completely victimizing myself, even if it is my side of the story. I’m so sorry for that. Genuinely, I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry that me arriving came at a time, where you and Gem were struggling with new jobs and the eventual lawsuit possibility. I’m sorry that I was another person with damaged mental health added to your household, when you felt like you were the only one keeping everyone afloat. I’m sorry that I never just told you the truth, my truth. Of how I was feeling and how much I was struggling.

I’m sorry that things never went the way we expected. I’m sorry for not being there for you and Gem, the way you both were for me. I’m sorry that I “fed off the energy in the space” and “exacerbated what was already in the space”. I’m sorry for not seeing the obvious signs that you both needed space.

I’m so sorry for not being able to leave the house or eat without being told. I’m so sorry for not being able to find an out-patient program or a job fast enough. I’m so sorry for making you be my one and only protector and supporter.

I’m so sorry for becoming your and Gem’s suffering, instead of just my own.

I’m so sorry for putting myself in your hands when you weren’t prepared.

I’m so sorry for making you take responsibility for me.

I’m so sorry for sharing more with Gem than with you.

I’m so sorry for not making my choice to say, “Yes, I’ll come stay with you”, shown and worth it.

I’m… so sorry… for putting you and Gem through the trauma of me attempting su*c*d*, and the strain that must have caused.

I’m.

So.

Sorry…

For Everything.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5 -- Part 6

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d* attempt, su*c*d*l ideations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, guilt, anxiety, bipolar depression, PTSD symptoms.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 6

12:06pm

I’ve realized that I wasn’t broken or shattered when I came to you. I was cracked. Hundreds of jagged lines waiting to be smoothed over. But from Langone to those next 6 weeks, pieces were starting to fall faster than the cracks were sealed. The first hospitalization at Emory, moving to New York, our fights, my Granny passing, more fights, my birthday, to that last Monday that I saw the apartment, to the last time we were together. Everything in-between was beautiful and warm, and those specific moments were pain and suffering.

I thought I had reached my breaking. But the truth is, my breaking point was 100 times higher than I ever thought. My mask was too thick, right? So thick that as tears rolled down my face onto the floor and as “I’m sorry” rode along my shaky breaths, the splashes and shakes couldn’t be heard.

You know, it was the smallest thing that pitched me off the tallest cliff that is my breaking point. It was another of your fights, another “open conversation”. I bought my tickets to go see our cousin for Christmas, something that you not only suggested, but I informed you that I decided upon the week before. And, as I listened to you say it yet another slap to your face (this should be a new record at this point, what’s the count, 6?), as I felt the quivering of my anxiety claw at my lungs, as you brought up trying to buy my tickets as if it wasn’t the first time I was hearing it, as I felt a good moment fade… I knew I needed to leave.

To rid you of my presence, my two suitcases, of my laptop, of the heels I bought as my birthday present to myself that I returned because you suggested (another irresponsible spend), of the list I made you of all my favorite foods of me washing the dishes and cleaning the bathroom and staying home and watching the cats as you and Gem traveled on a trip that I was invited on first and of the packet that you and Gem promised you would help me with but didn’t and of me with my angstand my sorrowand my guiltand my anxietyand my depressionand me…

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5 -- Part 7

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d*l ideations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, guilt, anxiety, bipolar depression, insomnia, PTSD symptoms.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 5

12:06pm

I was hiding my anxiety, my depression, my rage, my insomnia under my mask that I guess was too thick. So thick that it shadowed the drips and drops of the truth, my truth, that I hoped would grow into waves large enough to show on your radar. That I was not okay. Not okay at all. But okay enough to manage, right?

My world was changing so fast and everything was too much, yet slow enough and just not enough that I could see my only motivation to even have a world, flickering in and out with every interaction. With every text left unsent. With every phone call unrung. 

I thought things were getting better, I thought I was getting better. But how could I with no therapist, no meds, no one to help me sift through that packet, no one to talk to? All I had was that packet, my laptop, and two older sisters that switched from laughter to comfort, to withdrawn to frustration. From me being there, to me wanting anything but anywhere…

The way you spoke, the way you acted, the way you looked, set me on edge. I felt like an intruder in your home, and during some of your “open conversations”, I felt like you thought so too. There were lines drawn in the sand, when you said you would always prioritize Gem over me, when there shouldn’t have been. There were so many contradictions, “We’re not roommates in college” vs. “I’m not your parent”, or better yet, “You’re an adult who can make their own decisions” vs. “You should at least inform me of what’s going on, so I can help you”, that should have been cut and dry. There were assumptions, so many assumptions, “I think you look for drama” vs. “I think you were trying to be insensitive”, that could have been questions. 

So many times, we had “open conversations” that were plainly and painfully, just one-sided. In which your claws were out, and I cried and apologized. Even the one time I found the strength to stand up for myself, I ended up saying “I’m sorry”, drowned in tears enough to last a lifetime.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 6 Part 7

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d*l ideations, hospitalizations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, guilt, bipolar depression, anxiety.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 4

12:06pm

My resolve sparked the shift. The shift from watching my pieces scatter from me sporadically to gluing them back together. By the time I landed, I knew there were expectations for me, whether they were from you or my friends, or even myself. Everything was still moving too fast, I really couldn’t keep up, but all I could think about was that I had to and that you two were there to help me.

But only half of that was true.

After I landed and we went to Langone (hospital), I think both of our expectations broke and we didn’t know what to do. I was in an unfamiliar place (New York City) with a deadline of January 1st to move out. I was losing myself throughout that entire time, and instead of finding hope, I found rejection immediately. Langone was the destination in my mind that would turn the tides. I would be able to heal and receive the treatment that I needed to kickstart the right kind of growth. I was ready to let go of my control of myself and release my inhibitions in the hope of something great… for me. 

But instead, I was rejected and I walked away with a packet of every out-patient facility in the NYC area.

Everything was too much. I was broken and was fighting myself to not to want to give up, for you and everyone else, and I decided to keep saving face and see it through. Then maybe, it would be for me too.

After Langone, you were upset, it was nowhere near the plan of me staying in the hospital for 2 weeks. I think that’s when I shied away from you and confided in Gem. I was upset too that Langone didn’t work out, but I was so tired, too tired, of trying to lift off the ground and take flight. I needed time to gain more energy, to repair my mask that was so close to completely breaking. Because if I wasn’t okay enough to manage, then all of your efforts and money would have been wasted. So, I did just that. I rested for almost a week, and felt strings lifting me to dance a song I didn’t know.

You guys did your best to pour into me. By telling me to journal again, to eat, drink water, to get outside. Despite all that was on each of your plates, you made sure I knew that you were there for me. But, how you specifically did it took much longer to understand.

I felt like I was an intruder in your home. A parasite taking what you had for a gain I had not identified or knew existed. I was trying to be so careful; not to do something wrong, to upset you, to make you question if bringing me there was a mistake…

You asked me to wash the dishes, I started washing them almost every time, so you wouldn’t have to ask again. You got upset that second week that I didn’t take out the trash and recycling on time, I made sure to take them out by the end of each day. You told me to clean the bathroom on the weekends, I put time aside to clean it on Sundays. You told me y’all like to spot clean throughout the week, as soon as I saw cat litter on the hallway floor, I was sweeping and moping the whole house.

You told me that I was irresponsible with money, that it was a slap to the face, even though it wasn’t with your money. I stopped buying things that was just for me, bought groceries for the household, and occasionally bought a coffee.

You told me that you expected me to go back to school in January, then when I said that I didn’t want to, you only said okay. I started looking at colleges and scholarships and made a list.

You told me that you didn’t have the space for me to regularly let you know the progress I was making, even though I was putting in all this effort for you, for you to keep seeing me alive and well. I stopped talking because there was nothing left of me to pull from and share.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Sometimes I just remember the one moment when I felt really cared for after a year of abuse from my 'best friend' and months of strained relationship with my parents after I had pushed them out during that year, then left them with the broken aftermath of their very traumatized, very expensive, daughter.

I was in the ER. Not a rare occurrence at the time. It was before one of my inpatient stays that year, but I'm not sure if it was the second or the third, they all blur together. I usually would have to spend a night there and wait for a bed to open up before being admitted, and that was how it went this time. In the middle of the night, I woke up with a nosebleed from the dry hospital air. I didn't really know what to do. Any normal person would get up and go to the nurse's station and get some tissues or something, but being a mentally ill child who was just yelled at by her mother the day before for saying she needed help because the hospital bills were already stacking up and going to the ER cost a lot of money, not to mention the inpatient stay, I didn't want to inconvenience the nurses (it's literally their job) so I just laid back with the back of my hand over my nose while I waited for it to stop. Swallowed a lot of my own blood, but I was already in such a horrible mental state, broken to my core to the point I wanted to leave mortality, that I could care less as long as nobody else was affected.

The bleeding stopped and I did the best I could to get the dried stuff off my hands by licking my finger and rubbing it off, but it was dark, so I couldn't really see if it worked. I went back to sleep and then woke up in the morning and did my usual ER routine of sitting in the dark because I didn't want to have to go out to ask the nurses to turn on the light (lightswitches weren't in the rooms for safety reasons or something idk). When one of the nurses came in to bring me breakfast, she turned on the light, but I didn't notice there was still dried blood on my hands and just ate my breakfast in silence because I never asked for them to turn on the TV. I always waited for them to suggest it since I didn't want to inconvenience them (again, it's literally their job to do that but I still felt bad asking). When she came back to take my tray, she noticed the blood and asked about it. It was only then I realized that blood on the hand of a mentally ill child in the ER because she could hurt herself is easily interpreted as literally anything other than a nosebleed. I panicked and started explaining myself, and to my relief she believed me and I wasn't put on a 1 to 1 (I had to experience that at some point later and it sucks). She left to go get me a wipe to clean it off.

She came back and I was sitting on the floor next to the weird little plastic round side table thing. I was expecting her to just throw it at me or something and leave me to clean myself up, but to my surprise she sat down in front of me and (after asking permission to touch me) started wiping my hands for me. She was just so careful and sweet about it. She called me 'honey' and it left me with a warmth in my chest that I hadn't felt in over a year.

It's kind of odd but I just look back at that memory with a weird sort of fondness. To her it was probably just a normal day on the job, but for me that moment meant so much. She was also probably just using it as an opportunity to look me over and make sure I was telling the truth about the nosebleed, but still. I was just this scared kid who felt like she was so worthless that she couldn't even ask a nurse to turn the TV on for fear that she would be loathed, and this woman went out of her way to lightly scrub the blood out of my nails.

Nowadays I'm doing better. My mental state has improved and I've been working on moving past that all, but I think that some time this past week was the 2 year anniversary of that day, and it just goes to show how far I've come. From being surprised and comforted by a psych nurse's gentle touch on my hands (the first human touch I had felt in months), to casual hugs with my friends and a year and 7 months out of the hospital as of yesterday.

Confessions from an emotional abuse victim:

#5 Kind Gestures

After spending so much time with either the absence of kindness from others, or with kindness always being conditional, you tend to forget the feeling of having someone truly care about you and be kind to you.

Depending on the situation, my brain will go into one of two modes when being showed kindness. I will either immediately become paranoid and worry about what I will need to do to repay it, or just completely short circuit and become confused.

The urge to repay tends to come when it's someone I don't know very well being kind, or when I'm given compliments. I start to wonder how I'm supposed to make the miniscule amount of energy that they need to use to be nice worth it for them.

When I react with confusion, it's usually either with someone who I know well or it's a really big gesture that means a lot. After being treated horribly for so long and having my sense of self-worth chipped away at, I sometimes have trouble comprehending why someone believes I am worth caring about and going out of their way to be nice to me.

Most of the time for them it's just something casual and simple, that they just feel is good to do, but for me it's a whole new healing experience every time. Getting past my initial confusion is hard, but it's worth it because once I can accept it, it opens an amazing point of view and helps me truly understand the fact that I am worth caring about (which is something people tell me and I try to tell myself, but is still hard to fully grasp)

The kindness of all these new friends I've met since I started high school is one of the biggest things I have to thank for aiding my recovery. Whether they've helped me through hard moments, or have just been a good friend to talk to and hang out with, these people and their kind gestures mean so much to me.

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of parental abuse and physical abuse. Descriptions of threats, violence, verbal abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse. Mentions of Bipolar Depression, anxiety, PTSD, self-deprecating thoughts, self-esteem issues, people pleasing, rage. Saturday, Jan. 28th, 2023

2:16pm

My dad texted me early in the morning,

-This is my response to very bluntly and directly tell him off

and here’s what I said to him:

To Dad,

“Listen. I did disrespect you and I did curse at you. I’ll admit it, and I’m taking accountability for that. I don’t like being upset and I certainly don’t like yelling and cursing. However, what I did that day was lesser than what you deserved, you deserved worse. Now, I’m taking the time out of my day to respond to take another chance for you to take this opportunity to hear what I am saying and make a change. But, to be honest, my hopes and expectations for you aren’t high.

      First, I want you to understand that you will always be my dad and I will always love you. I care about you deeply, but it will have to be at a distance. Your behavior in how you treat Angel and I is deplorable and disgusting. You are selfish and narcissistic. You are controlling and manipulative. And, you don’t have proper self-reflection skills or any empathy for your kids. I’m sick of it, and I don’t have the tolerance for your behavior anymore.

      Time after time, you and I have had conversations, where you never ask me what is going on in my life in full. Every single conversation consisted of talking about yourself, or offering advice that had no relevance to anything that was happening for me. You constantly talk about how much you want to be a part of my life and how you wanted a “seat at my advisors’ table”, but you don’t deserve to because you never showed any real care or interest or attention to me and my life. This “highlights” thing you have is the only thing you care about when it comes to Angel and I, but that’s now what being a father is about. Being a good PARENT (not just being a father) is about raising your child to be their own individual, while you as the parent, help them along the way. It’s not just giving me money, “slapping rocks”, working out, and “highlights”. You should be there to listen to your kids, to tend to them, to be there when they fall, and to correct them when they go wrong. You do none of these things. The year that I was starting college, I had to continuously remind you of what my majors were because: you 1) never asked what they were, and 2) never listened and remembered. And that’s the SMALLEST example of how you treat me that I could think of. You have threatened to kill me, called me embarrassing, tried to tell me that I’m not man enough, and god forbid, try to manipulate me to turn into you.

      You never want to hear when I’m struggling or in a dark period, yet you think that you should be an “advisor” for me. What do you plan to advise me about then? You have never ever been there for me when I’m going through a hard time, but you think I should lean on you for what? Support? No, for money, right? Because that’s what you talk about all the time.

      I want you to sit and think about what you ACTUALLY know about me and my life because I guarantee that it’s not as much as I know about you, and what you SHOULD know about me. I feel like a prop for you to make yourself feel and look better. Either that, or you’re living through me vicariously with all the “highlights” you receive from me. And you expect me to not be hurt by all of that and much more from you?

      Did you know I have Bipolar Disorder? Did you know I took a break from college? Did you know I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from you and every other excuse for a father figure in my life? I bet you didn’t.

      I CAN”T HANDLE YOU BEING IN MY LIFE BECAUSE YOU. ARE. TOXIC. When I’m not feeling like you’re “molding me into your image” (which is something you have said out your mouth to me, by the way), you’re sucking all of my energy by me just trying to have a relationship with you. All these years, I’ve tried to adapt and change myself and “just deal” with you because anything with you is better than nothing. But, I realized after EVERY falling out we’ve had, you never sat down and thought about what YOU DID to ME. I was the only one trying to change and make things work, while you just  waited for me to come crawling back to Daddy. I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS. AND, I don’t owe you for anything that you have done for me, you’re a parent. You signed up for this.      So, going forward, I think you should go to therapy. I think you need professional guidance to realize how you treat people, especially your family. And, until that happens and you experience change, you and I will continue to not have a relationship. I love you to the moon and back, always will, but I will no longer tolerate your vile treatment of me. I am not just “your offspring”, I’m my own individual. Please, do me the favor of not contacting me again until you’ve grown.”

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of emotional and verbal abuse, su*c*d*l thoughts, self-deprecating thoughts, anxiety, and depression.*

Monday, Nov. 7th, 2022

4:37pm

Dear Me,

I’m struggling so much to control my anxiety and stress since my birthday 2 days ago. Deadass, I am so confused to the point where I don’t know where to begin, but I know that I am feeling so depressed and tired and empty and numb and exhausted. Gem’s extreme levels of vulnerability and the amount of breakdowns she has, is triggering and makes me upset for her, but also myself, because I don’t know what to do with myself and I feel out of place. 

Then with Angel, the way she speaks to me just gets to me. It comes off as if she is SO upset with me each time, or is looking for something to berate me over. It’s as though she’s projecting her frustrations onto me, but then, painting it over by saying that she is trying to have an honest conversation or teaching/advising me. It makes me so anxious and sick to my stomach when she talks to me because it’s like she’s going to be aggressive or “attack me” every single time. 

There’s no question of how I’m doing, or a thought of what I’m going through. She just wants to release whatever she wants to without any pushback. She’s controlling the situation to her own benefit without any regard. It’s like she forgets that I’m fighting my hardest to stay alive afloat, and only telling me what’s wrong with me(?).  It reminds me of our dad and how he used to talk to me and how I used to feel. She’s trying to “help” me “learn” by “advising” me to do certain things. But, it’s all a nice way of saying that she’s controlling me. But, some things are true and things that I truly need to work on, yet the consistent way that she delivers them is so awful. I just feel helpless.

Part 2

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022 Part 3

4:35pm

I got emotional during our conversation a few multiple times, because I felt the need to defend myself against what she was saying. I’m very glad and proud of myself for speaking up for myself with how assumptive she can be. She was being harsh and aggressive about trying to get me to leave the house everyday, and I finally told her how I felt. I said to her that I have a lot of anxiety about going outside, in public, and that me appreciating my alone time does not necessitate going out. It’s a struggle to get out, and it doesn’t help that I’m in the midst of attempting to establish my own roots here. Trying to make this city, this moment in time, feel like mine. Thankfully (?), she calmed down, but she still pressed that she needed her own time in the house completely alone, like before I arrived.

So, I’m glad that Angel told me about this cafe, because I feel really comfortable here. I need to wake up earlier and figure out to leave the house quicker and be gone for a long time.

Part 1 -- Part 2

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022 Part 2

4:35pm

The second thing we talked about was Angel (again) needing to draw the line between her and Gem vs. me. She brought up how she needs to pour into herself, the same with Gem, but they haven’t been able to because they have been so focused on me (?) and their jobs. She also talked about how I enter the living room when they are having conversations between just them, and how I need to be more mindful of that. She then felt the need to say once again that she will always talk and choose Gem over me and to not take it personally, which I don’t (?). 

But, what’s bothering me is why this has to be a conversation topic that keeps coming up? I don’t mind if Angel or Gem don’t always tell me things and want to keep things within their relationship, but I’m not the one coming up to them asking for them to share things with me. They share a lot with me, to begin with, off of their own decisions to do so. Even though she said that she doesn’t want this to feel like roommates, I don’t feel that way at all. It feels uncomfortable because it feels like I’m invading their space and their relationship. 

I will definitely be more mindful of their conversations, and will try to leave the house more often to satisfy that need. I respect their relationship, but it’s not like it hasn’t dawned on me that they’re my older sisters and that my stay is temporary.

Part 1 -- Part 3

hi my name is duchesstopaz and i’m a trauma survivor. there are so many things that i want to say, need to say… but no one who can understand if they don’t listen. i want to use my blog to just vent and get out all of this that needs an escape because it’s eating away at me. i am constantly evolving and changing and have grown so much over all of these years. i have a story to tell and this is one of the ways that i can share. so please watch as a 20 y/o shares way too much on the internet lol :). feel free to interact if you would like, feel free to give advice if you would like, but this is truly something purely for me that i would like to share.

Had my first PTSD flashback that I actually knew was a PTSD flashback. For the past like, 2 years, I've been having these random panic attacks where images of bad things that have happened to me pop into my head and feel so realistic.

Somehow I didn't realize it, but those are definitely actually PTSD flashbacks. And I didn't figure that out until last night, when I had the first big one I've had since I got diagnosed. Then it all clicked and I realized that like, half my panic attacks have actually been caused by PTSD flashbacks. So now I know I definitely filled out a few questions wrong on the questionnaire.

Confessions from an emotional abuse victim:

#4 Anniversaries

Trauma anniversaries are a hard thing to deal with. They can come from any sort of trauma/traumatic event, but mine are from my hospital stays and large arguments or events with my abuser. The hospital ones definitely suck, but they don't affect my everyday life as much as the abuse ones.

The hospital ones are mostly restricted to the past. I remember how I felt, or certain events that happened. Occasionally I get quick flashes of images in my head of what the place looked like. Yet overall, it's confined to the past and if I can manage the feelings or distract myself, I usually will be able to reduce the suffering until it goes away.

The abuse anniversaries are a whole different type of hell. Unlike the hospital trips, the events from the year or so with my abuser bother me constantly. Year round, 24/7. Not confined to moments of struggle or anniversaries, I get memories and bad thoughts all the time.

Anniversaries take that base level and crank it up to 1,000. My reactions to triggers get more and more violent, usually toward myself, but sometimes toward others. Any little trigger can set off my brain into unimaginable terror. It also affects my thoughts on myself and how I act. I become more startled by people treating me nicely, and just have the feeling that I don't deserve anything other than emotional torment from others.

These anniversaries affect my emotional health and my social life horribly. One specific example is the time I went on a midnight walk with some friends at a sleepover. We passed by my old middle school, where most of the events took place. This was on or near the anniversary of one of the worst fights I had with my abuser. When we got back to my friends house, I was a little stirred, then two hours afterwards, I had a terrible meltdown. Everyone around me was very kind, but it definitely felt horrible.

This time of year, I'm dealing with the anniversary of the day I fully fell into my abuser's trap. I'm questioning all my interactions with others and scanning my every move as to not bother anyone. If someone around me feels bad, or apologizes, or seems off in any way, I put the blame onto myself.

I wish I could frame this one as a more positive, uplifting, never-give-up type of post, there isn't really a way I can do that in my current stage of recovery. I guess all I can say is; trauma anniversaries are valid triggers, and if you know a friend or loved one is approaching a hard time of year for them, be kind and supportive. Trauma affects many people in many ways, and not everyone experiences it the same way, but the best thing to do is show kindness and compassion.

Confessions from an emotional abuse victim:

#3 Real friendship

Due to my abuse coming from someone who I considered my 'best friend', as opposed to a partner or family member, after I broke out of the cycle of abuse, I had troubles with friendship.

I had become pretty separate from my friends I had before him, and I never thought I would ever actually need someone other than him anymore, so I didn't really try very hard to have other friends. At the end of that friendship, I had just entered a new little friend group because of my boyfriend, and I was also in a musical where I had found three people I really vibed with. Two of them are still some of my closest friends to this day.

Regardless of my shaky little support system, I still had a lot of trouble navigating friendship. I'm autistic and had just gotten out of one and a half years of covid isolation before I dove into an abusive friendship, so my social skills were not very great. The only two roles I knew in a friendship were leader and follower. As I tried to navigate friendships that weren't meant to hurt someone, I found myself making people uncomfortable a lot. I didn't know what to do or say, and I would go between either being really self centered or obsessing over the other person. I would hurt people without realizing and I became pretty isolated.

I spent most of the one year after leaving my abuser like that. I desperately tried to reach out and get people to enjoy my presence, but nothing I did seemed to work. It didn't help that I had gotten a silent reputation the year before when I pushed people away and blindly followed and backed up someone who everyone else could tell was a complete dickhead.

The one person who stuck by my side was my best friend. She took me under her wing and taught me some of the ways that friendship was supposed to look. I still have the memory ingrained in my mind of the one day we were in her basement building things with Lego, and she referred to me as her 'bestie'. I nearly broke down crying. My abuser had weaponized that term against me near the end of our friendship, saying that he hated when I called him my best friend. Hearing her say that was one of the most blissful moments of my life.

The next year, I decided to go to a different high school than pretty much everyone else from my middle school, including all the people I was friends with. I felt that I needed a clean slate, but I didn't really give myself one. I tried making friends, but after feeling even the slightest amount of push back from anyone, I would retreat. This left me with some people I didn't vibe with that well, but wouldn't reject me.

I stayed like that for a while, and was slightly miserable. I'm still not sure how it happened, but eventually near the end of the school year, I found my people. My friends right now are absolutely amazing people. I still mess up a bit, but I'm finally learning how real friendship works.

Navigating non-toxic relationships can become really hard after being in an abusive situation. It takes years, and many screw ups, but it's possible to become a better person surrounded by good people. As I continue to try and improve myself, I find that more people want to be around me. Improvement is possible, and will bring so many amazing new things into your life.

Confessions from an emotional abuse victim:

#2 Tough Love

Recently, I've been finding myself thinking about the concept of 'tough love'. That is one of the terms I used to describe the abuse and manipulation before I fully accepted that I had been abused. But the thing is, what he did was not love.

Love is not being judgemental. Love is not being brutally 'honest' about someone else's flaws because they should fix them.

Love is making sure someone is cared for even if they don't ask for it or are a bit apprehensive. Love is when my friend noticed I was acting a bit different and asked me when I last drank something. After I told her I didn't know, she told me I should drink something. I refused and said I was fine, but she still went and bought me a bottle of water and made me drink it in front of her.

I feel like the term 'tough love' isn't really a term that should be used in the first place though. Even though there are situations like that, where it seemingly fits the term and is actually okay, it's still a slippery slope into justifying abuse.

If people would point out that my abuser was being really harsh to me, I could say it was just because he cared. It was because he wanted me to improve as a person so I could do better. His punches and kicks and yelling and degrading were just his way of saying he cares. It's 'tough love'. This term helped catch me, and I'm sure many others as well, into the cycle of justifying the actions of my abuser. It let me believe it was my fault for feeling hurt from what he did.

I think it might be time to retire this concept. Yes, sometimes you need to be a little pushy to make sure someone you love is cared for, but even then, you still should be kind. Honestly, that doesn't need its own term. It's just being caring. We don't need any more ways for victims caught in the throes of abuse to try to justify it.

Confessions from an emotional abuse victim:

#1 Attention

Sometimes I find myself wanting love and attention, then reprimand myself because a person in my past told me it was wrong. But I have finally realized that human connection is a basic need in life for most people. I shouldn't feel guilty for getting sad when I don't have many opportunities for human connection.

I've gotten so used to either being completely reliant on one person or completely reliant on myself and forgot that there is a different way to live. I can have multiple people I get my connection from without still feeling isolated. I just needed to find the right people while in the right mental state.

When it comes to talking about what my parents did to me I hate when someone says "but" because to me it feels like they are trying to dismiss it, someone told me that what I went through was awful but maybe they were abused when they were younger and it annoys me because it is sad if they were abused but it shouldn't use to dismiss what they did to me

Go back to your roots he said

Go back to the house and your bed

Go back to the char and the ash he said

Go lay in the dirt and be sad

Oh look at my roots, how they burnt I said

I cry and I stand over them

I wish they would grow so I water them

Water them with my tears, they don’t grow I said

Then take me away to a place, he said

And it could make us feel safe

A place yet it wasn’t our home I said,

But home wasn’t home, not to me I said

I yearn for a place to call home he said

For all of my roots to grow back

But if I go back to that house, he said

My roots will burn all along with them

My brothers roots are burning too I said

How do I handle those flames

I water and water and water them

The flames they hurt all that I love I said

Oh why would someone from above I said

He sat and he listened to me then said

Oh he has a plan with the ash he said

But why oh why did I have to be the ash I said

When others were allowed to be trees I said

Oh I was born with my roots burnt I said

Maybe, oh,

Maybe, that’s beautiful he said

But really it all just makes me mad I said

Mad that I can’t be a tree I said

Mad I can’t be evergreen I said

Well fine go ahead and be mad he said

But the world needs people like you who are ash

To help the trees grow, and be glad

Natalia Grace, from a victim of Neglect and Narcissistic Abuse

The case of Natalia Grace hits home incredibly hard for me. It occurred in my home state, in very familiar locations.

She also is only one year older than I am. I grew up parallel to her. And when she was alone in that apartment at age 9, struggling to care for herself because no one ever taught her, I was in the middle of my parents’ horrific divorce also struggling to care for myself because no one was there to teach me.

Comments were made towards me around that time about how I hardly ever brushed my hair, I didn’t take a shower until I was told, I didn’t know I needed a bra, I wore pajamas to school, I never brushed my teeth. And when I heard the neighbors comment about how she smelled and her hair was dirty and she would come into their houses only looking for something to eat, I immediately thought fuck, it’s because she’s a kid! And also disabled, even if she were an adult she can’t fucking care for herself! And the neighbors that thought she was creepy or annoying, I got those comments too. People wanted away from me because at age 9 all I wanted to talk about was Warrior Cats or My Little Pony or Minecraft, nothing else.

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my adult life is that nothing is taught. Everything, common sense and basic self care, everything must be taught to a child. And people who don’t know how to do those things almost always come from neglect or abuse. I suffered neglect. Natalia suffered both.

And when I saw the clip of Michael Barnett interrogating her about the social worker and the donuts, that was eerily similar to the rants my step mom would go on about my dirty laundry or me drinking her orange juice. Abusive Narcissists like to put you down about the stupidest, smallest things. And there’s nothing you can say to stop it, you just have to sit there. When she was sitting in silence, just blinking at him, saying “I don’t know”, I felt that. Because I have been there.

I’ve blocked a lot of what I’ve experienced out, just because that’s what happens when you’re ill. Occasionally I’ll have moments of clarity though, when I remember, oh this horrible thing happened! Or I should know how to do this! And I realize why I don’t. I’m still struggling to keep up with my peers in all areas. I can’t imagine also being beaten, physically punished, abandoned, and then having to see your abusers get away with it. And on top of all that - being physically disabled.

There is no fucking doubt about this. Natalia Grace was born in 2003, proven by genetic evidence and dental records and BY HER BIRTH MOTHER. She was 9 years old when she was left abandoned in that apartment. And Michael Barnett and Kristine Barnett are monsters. I believe that no matter what kind of afterlife exists, they will be punished for what they’ve done.

In every kind man I see what would’ve been.