I don't know how to articulate my thoughts on it consicely (as usual, hence why I rarely ever write posts here anymore), but ever since this week's dunmesh ep I can't stop thinking about That scene between toshiro and laios and how it's been talked about as a piece of representation of the neurodivergent struggle.
I've seen those panels countless times before the anime got to it, and I can't understate how Real of a thing it is that we're seeing through laios- that pain and frustration that comes from having the rug pulled under you in being told that been getting it Wrong the whole time and nobody's bothered to point out the donkey tail pinned on your ass.
but I think that's only the first half of the statement, and the way people talk (and don't talk) about toshiro does the moment a disservice.
seeing how people talk about it before getting to the scene itself, it ended up catching me off-guard how much of a Person toshiro is. he's always talked about as the strawman or the figure representing neurotypical society- the one that others us.
I see where it's all coming from, he's not a likeable character to most of the fandom for reasons I won't hold anyone against, but again- he's an important part of the picture that dunmesh paints of the nd struggle.
I find it absurd to portray toshiro as a representation of the 'average'. being both of royalty and of a culture that has instilled upon him his own values and expectations when it comes to socialization. it's why the inclusion of his retainers (especially maizuru) was a brilliant story decision; alongside laios', we get to see HIS social ineptitudes and how central they are to HIS character.
like. a major point of grievance many of the audience has with toshiro is his rose-tinted 'romance' with obviously-uninterested falin. I get it, especially if you've experienced that type of engagement with an unwanted pursuer. but dear lord if that doesn't perfectly parallel him with laios as a fellow Socially Inept Man.
it hit me as much as laios hit me when he said he envied our boy's sincerity. because that's a true and often less talked about part of the neurodivergent struggle(tm)- the difficulty to express your feelings. just like the other end of the spectrum, it hurts yourself as much as it hurts others.
as someone whose brain problems often manifest as social anxiety and feeling like i'm either unable to or unworthy of expressing how I feel, I envy laios too.
tl;dr- there are two characters present in that scene in episode 17.
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React to an unpleasant surprise in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.
(We’re finally getting to the series of chapters I have been WAITING to write 🖤)
Warnings for this section: Anxiety, cannabis (weed), social anxiety, panic attack, hyperventilation, fainting
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Absolute Smokeshow (Part 71 of ?): News To Me
Once you had awoken again at a more decent hour, anxiety was the first thing you felt and you had no memory of anything you might have dreamt last night. Every time you tried to chase after a familiar flash, it disappeared. Opening your eyes, you decided to take a look around the dimly-lit room instead, propping yourself up on your elbow.
Dom was clinging to Rhea now, the latter looking far more comfortable than you had been in that same position. Both of them seemed so peaceful sleeping in each other’s arms that it felt wrong to hold your stress so close to them. You made sure to be quiet and careful as you crept out of bed toward your things.
After silently changing into your extra set of clothes using only the small sliver of light streaming in from the mostly-drawn curtains, you popped into the bathroom. Making sure to leave the door cracked an inch, you turned on the light and vent before igniting a fresh joint.
You watched the smoke trail up with the flow of the air after puffing on it a few times, holding in a sizable hit. Puckering your lips, you aim your exhale at the vent, already slightly calmer now that you had something to focus on.
The second hit made you cough a bit, but it was a few seconds before you could grab a towel to muffle it. After you regained some control over the muscles in your throat, you began drinking directly from the sink to soothe your throat - which is the exact position a sleepy-looking Rhea and Dom found you in. Immediately, you shut off the faucet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” you apologized, relaxing again when a nonchalant hand was waved at you. They seemed genuinely unbothered, Dominik rubbing his eyes and Rhea stretching as she yawned.
“Want some?” you asked both of them.
As intrigued as he seemed by the offer, Dom still looked to Rhea for an answer - or, perhaps, for permission.
“Hmm… why not,” she decided, giving you both a smile, “Finn’s friend JD is still trying to get in with the Judgment Day; we can have him drive us all to the next location if it comes down to it.”
Rhea leaned against the counter next to you while Dom sat down on the edge of the tub. The three of you passed the joint around, your girlfriend occasionally asking for a shotgun instead. Dominik finally built up the courage to ask for a shotgun from you on his last hit, pulling away to cough out the smoke.
“I think I have the munchies,” Dom groaned once he caught his breath - only a second before his stomach made a displeased, empty rumble in agreement.
“You still have some leftover chicken in the fridge. As for my girl and I… breakfast downstairs is still going for another hour,” Rhea said, grabbing Dom’s phone to check the time, “But I don’t want to deal with being swarmed by fans if I’m recognized.”
“I’ll grab us some breakfast!” you offer, rising to your feet, “It’s not like anyone will recognize me from anything.”
“You sure?” Dom asked, smiling when you nodded.
“Thanks, love,” Rhea said, pulling you close for a kiss before letting you go and gesturing around the corner, “Room key is on the desk.”
“Got it,” you nodded, grabbing the key card before ducking out into the hall.
Once you reached the lobby, the elevator doors opened, inviting in the delicious smells of a continental breakfast. You made a beeline for its source. Walking up, you grabbed a tray and two sets of utensils, falling into the self-service breakfast line with the other hungry hotel guests.
Once you had put everything together, you glanced at the newsstand near the end of the buffet and something caught your eye: a tabloid. Usually, you weren’t one to read such things, but what drew your attention to it made you do a double take.
“WOMEN’S CHAMP FINDS BELT BUNNY?“ the front page shouted; the less urgent text below it read “Ripley confirms open relationship, bisexuality.” Next to the headline was a photo of Rhea kissing you in the car as you picked her up from the show last night.
A smaller photo accompanied yours: a still from her interview that you didn’t recognize, where she seemed to be caressing a smitten-looking Cathy Kelley’s face. Maybe you shouldn’t have stopped watching that video so soon - but that was the least of your worries right now.
The lobby was suddenly too warm, too crowded, too well-lit. How many people had already seen it? Just the thought of what must be happening on social media right now made you feel sick to your stomach.
Your breathing started to speed up as you scurried back to the elevator, trying to keep the food securely on your tray while also avoiding every pair of eyes you passed. Punching the button with the “up” arrow, you immediately heard the chime that told you the elevator was already on the ground floor. The moment the doors slid all the way open, you dove inside and ran your thumb into your floor number.
Doors closed.
First floor…
Second floor…
The elevator felt slower and slower as your breaths became quick and shallow. The plates that sat on your tray began to rattle slightly as you trembled.
It was all you could do to keep anything from spilling as you finally, shakily stepped out in the direction of your shared room. Realizing you need a free hand to unlock the door - or even knock - you set the food down on a small table in the hallway.
All you could hear was your panicked breathing in the empty stillness of the hall as you grew dizzier, pulling the key card out of your pocket. It dropped to the floor despite you clumsily trying to catch it. Spots clouding your vision, you stumble slightly before allowing yourself to collapse.
[end part seventy-one of ?]
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Tag list (thank you!)
@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister
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Just saw a post about a person being upset or frazzled that depression and anxiety are the "everyman" mental illness. I want to proceed this by saying I am NOT going to be shitting on this person at all and they have a point but I didn't quite agree with uhm the tone or everything about it.
I don't think it's wrong or bad that these two specific mental illnesses have a wider understanding and reach. They have been watered down for lack of a better term because they have come to mean many things including less debilitating symptoms and signs. This is not to say it's bad, I don't think. I think it's objectively good that more people are able to look at themselves and talk with medical professionals and be able to be helped for any severity be it minor or major.
And that was their main point of contention though because the more debilitating cases of anxiety and depression are taken less seriously when using the terms "depression" and "anxiety". I think that is completely a valid point and reasonable thing to be upset about.
However...
I do not think the answer is to "take back" the terms and that also isn't what they said or implied either. What I really heard from them and that post was "when I talk about my life altering devastating mental illness I want to be taken seriously and understood without having to go into detail or explain it" (because the last part can and is incredibly exhausting and frustrating especially if it is not outright understood or has a base assumption of the less debilitating ideas and versions). What I heard was "I want to be taken seriously". That ISN'T what they said but it is what I understood from it.
In which case the solution to this is for people to respect each other, listen to each other with good intentions and faith, and take each other seriously when we talk about ourselves. Unfortunately that's an individual and societal problem that runs a little too deep for this post.
As for the terms, there probably does need to be a language separation between severities of depression and anxiety even though there are rough versions of those already. Like social anxiety, moderate depression, major depressive disorder, chronic depression, oct, ptsd, etc. The very word depression has kind of lost it's oomf but I think for a relatively good reason. Maybe there should be an entire other word for major depression that doesn't include that phrase though to help with that communication gap. IDK. My two cents if that's worth anything.
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