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nny11writes · 5 years

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Declarations, Mental Health, and Other Things You Never Asked Me to Explain About Myself but I’m Gonna Anyways

Ok, it's been almost a year since my last update on this and I wanted to explain myself a bit? And also share my story a bit???

This is all personal stuff so no need to read if you can’t handle it right now or don’t want to handle it. You’re not obligated to, but I felt it was important to share all this.

Here’s hoping the “Keep Reading” link works!

cw: anxiety, depression, mental health, suicidal ideation, nightmares

SO. Last year I had been working in a hostile working environment under an abusive supervisor for 2 years. One of the things I had done a right before I got that job (and was unemployed, depressed, and heavily suicidal) was I picked up writing fanfiction again. I had been in about a two or three year dry spell where I was writing fanfiction but never posting. Just writing it for me. And then I'd unceremoniously dropped all after posting a Mass Effect fic that had great response/reviews. Because the pressure was too much for me.

I found SW: TCW while unemployed and desperately seeking something to help lift my spirits and distract me from my known but untreated mental health. I wanted VERY desperately to find something enjoyable in life again. I was literally only alive because I was afraid of where my cat would be placed when I died. I kept seeing interesting meta posts from MyLordShesaCactus and AlexKablob about someone called Barriss Offee and someone called Ahsoka Tano. Deciding that I had literally nothing to lose I gave the show a watch.

It was a lifeline. During a time where I regularly had nightmares of being a robot that was torn apart and decommissioned, or dreams where I'd barely nick myself and suddenly start bleeding out, SW TCW became an obsession. I was years too late to the fandom but I still found active people and love for this girl who was a little Too Much and a little Too Pushy and a little Too Scared to Fail. Ahsoka hits all my bingo slots for characters I project heavily onto. And soon enough my nightmares, while still consistent, were no longer a given. Sometimes I dreamed about star wars instead. The first time I had a dream where I WAS Ahsoka Tano I woke up and cried because I'd felt so good.

Then I got hired in what I thought was a life affirming and saving way, and instead was shoved into a different kind of hell. I became so depressed that first year that I self harmed by starving myself and denying myself sleep. Which, of course, makes it worse. I started writing "Twilight" as a way to cope with my increasing intrusive thoughts about suicide and physical self harm. Then it became a way to deal with intrusive thoughts about wanting to harm others. I needed an outlet and was denying that I need medication to manage my mental health.

I didn’t expect anyone to read it and like it. I thought people would hate it. Because it was awful because I’m awful, and therefore nothing I did could be good.

But people did like it. A lot.

Then I was escorted to Psychiatric Emergency Services because I wanted to kill myself on the job. The whole episode is a little weird in my mind, time warped a bit and I remember crying nonstop and being unable to stop shouting, but when I look back what I remember most is feeling completely calm. Calm and soft and light. I think that was due to me finally verbalizing my thoughts and seeing that others did care. That I wasn’t some worthless pest to them. When I got to PES enough time passed that I got my panic attack under control, and when a psychiatrist finally saw me I downplayed the whole incident out of fear I was going to be institutionalized. I was scared as fuck in my little temp room in my little plastic chair staring at my hospital band and desperately hoping that none of the other people there would talk to me. So when I saw professionals I lied. I got a doctor’s note to stay out of work for two days and went home.

I finally had to admit to myself that I was not doing well. I was not handling my anxiety or depression. I was not ok and that it was ok to not be ok.

I was still scared to get professional help.

Instead, I spent that November participating in NaNoWriMo, where I wrote what would later become the first several chapters of “The Apprenticeship”. The first installment to the Close But No Cigar AU. I decided that I wanted and needed to write something that was happier. Ahsoka Tano made me happy and I wanted to do something good, anything good (for once in my fucking life). And convinced that I’d never done a good thing and never could, I decided to do a good thing first for a fictional character. So in I went to a story where Ahsoka Tano was an anxious wreck of a person, but had support and help and love. Into a world where Anakin Skywalker got the sort of help he needed. A place where they could all still meet and be friends and be family. Not somewhere with no pain, but somewhere softer.

The next month I finally got a PCP, and at the ass crack of 2017 I finally got medicated again.

I had already posted the first chapter of The Apprenticeship and energized by the meds and the reviews I got hard to work on finishing that story.

Funny thing about medicine, it’s a hassle and often the first thing you take is a unique struggle that requires adjustment. My first medication seemed great! For about two weeks! Then I developed a hand tremor so serious I couldn’t feed myself. That night I seriously struggled to not drive my car into the oncoming traffic lane and avoided all bridges on my way home from work. What I took helped my depressive symptoms but made my anxiety worse. The hand tremor was also a serious and rare side effect. The next day I was off that medicine and on a new one along with gabapentin to help the tremors.

Writing was difficult as fuck with my fingers shaking and twitching on the keyboard but I needed it as much as my medicine.

The new stuff worked out much better for me, we tweaked the dosage and I’m still on it. I’m glad to be on it!

Let’s do a little time skip shall we? That summer, a year after my experience at PES, I started writing Declarations. I wanted to see more Ahsoka & Obi-Wan content. They seemed like two people who should be close friends, have more of a father-daughter relationship, and general be together more than they were on screen. I found the idea of two Temple raised Jedi, who seem to break a bit from the mold and thinking of the Order, exploring their feelings for one another to be fascinating. I quickly realized that it would work really well to show that they are both mentally ill as well. I don’t like the term “mental illness” but it is accurate so I use it.

So I seeded it in from the start. I wanted to have two good people with anxiety and depression and PTSD and who knows what else find each other and help each other out! I wanted Ahsoka and Obi-Wan to be happy damn it!

So I started writing the story I wanted to see.

And unwittingly did what I had already been doing, pouring my own personal self into the story.

I’m not saying that putting some of yourself into your writing is bad, it really isn’t! Writing can be an amazing tool to explore your own experiences and sort your own feelings. I had been using it for over a year at that point to help cope with my own awful experiences, many of which I was still having to live with and through.

What happened for me is that I put a little too much of myself into this story. At the same time I was doing that my supervisor had gotten even stranger and in some ways worse. I didn’t have daily dread of being fired but I still had daily dread over who I would find when I arrived. My supervisor came in two flavors: Angry and Blaming, or Sweet and Frivolous. I still can’t decide if she was really just that abusive or if she also could use a helping hand in the mental health department. I really can’t. She did abuse me verbally and emotionally at work, she did gaslight me, she did scare me. I’m not saying that she wasn’t an abuser at all but I just don’t know if she was that way because she needs help too.

I hope she gets help if she needs it. But I’ll be grateful if I never have to see her again in my life.

Back to Declarations.

I put too much in and it had great reviews and lots of love, and I got very nervous and defensive over it. Too defensive and nervous over it. I really want to shout out to White_Ithiliel again, because she really helped me make this fic A LOT BETTER. Like, A LOT. Y’all don’t even realize what she has saved you from!! In the process she also has had to deal with my wild anxiety issues and defensiveness.

Seriously, thank you for everything you’ve done for this fic and your endless patience with me!

The latest chapter I wrote in the spring of 2018, we started going back and forth with edits in the summer, and then I panicked over a good question and point she made. She wrote back and I very nervously peeked at her cropped response (the “show less” version) sometime around October 2018. My abusive supervisor had left but I had been asked to work with/under another lady who wasn’t not my supervisor. She was almost equally bad in another direction for me. My anxiety spiked and my depression got terrible again around the time we were working on this chapter. I saw literally half a sentence and read it weirdly, panicked, had a good cry, and closed the document.

I literally haven’t been in the head space to look at it since then.

My best friend moved in with me that fall, but he’d just had a suicide attempt a few month before. My own mental health, as I mentioned, was plummeting. This past winter my depression got out of hand. I stopped going to my band practices, I nearly stopped writing, I was exhausted. The only reason I didn’t go back to eating poorly and treating myself like shit was because he was there, and just having someone be physically there who I knew cared about me made a huge difference. If I had popcorn for dinner too often, he’d make us a frozen pizza. If I drank too much (and I abused alcohol this past winter for sure), he was there to help me with the hangover and violent sickness. Thank god for my best friend! My suicidal ideation went up but I didn’t become suicidal. This was the first winter in almost a decade where I haven’t wanted to seriously kill myself at some point. I had flashes of it, moments where the bottom of the world dropped out but they lasted for minutes or hours instead of weeks and months.

I talk to him a lot about my fics and fandoms, and he very patiently listens and helps me work through it all. He lets me read him what I’ve written or what I’m reading if I think it’s funny, and we talked a lot about this chapter of Declarations and my reaction to a sincere question regarding its content and characterizations. He offered to look at the chapter with me and see what my editor/beta’s response had actually been versus what I was afraid it was.

I turned him down in November for that because I realized I needed space and time away from this particular fic. This story where I made myself into Ahsoka and Obi-Wan and Anakin, which I could no longer separate the fictional world I had created from the emotions I was feeling about my “real life”.

White_Ithiliel, I am so SO sorry I never responded. I know my silence was probably anxiety inducing too. I want to say again that you didn’t do anything wrong or rude or mean to me. I just wasn’t mentally in a place to be doing what I was doing, and needed to turn myself off and on again.

Today, after having a full week of writing and nearly daily updating fics I enjoy I realized that my life has changed since winter.

I am at a new job with wonderful people that I really enjoy. It pays better so I’m also less stressed about money. My benefits finally kick in today and I plan on getting me a therapist soon along with a new PCP. I’m doing alright. I’m doing better than I have in years.

A huge part of that is thanks to having people PM me here on tumblr and being so genuinely enthusiastic about the stories that I write. So here’s to you all for helping me through my funk over the years, giving me ideas, and giving me a damn good laugh! dontcallmebugaboo

thirdbroomstick

woeful-woods

bobkitten

Gabby(Kirasoka)

And of course ithiliel-the-french-tolkiendil (AKA White_Ithiliel)

Y’all have been life savers, maybe even more so than I realized until I decided to write this whole crazy thing out!

Thanks to all of you, even those who just leave me a kudos or a like, I’ve been trucking along. Fandom has literally saved my life multiple times, and probably will again.

So today, feeling high on my new found writing powers, I finally went in and finished editing for the latest chapter of Declarations! Hell yeah me! :D

That said! I’m putting it on a formal hiatus!

I have the next chapter written (not edited) and several chapter ideas throw out on the page, but I also think I still need more time away from this story. I want to finish Declarations (y’all don’t understand how BADLY I WANT TO FINISH IT), but I also know that right now, where we are, we are literally on SEASON ONE, EPISODE 2.

Legit the next chapter takes place after the malevolence (AKA Episode 2 of season 1).

And we are currently over 32k in.

This is gonna be a long ass haul fic everybody. I didn’t expect it to be, I didn’t mean it to be, I wasn’t planning on it. I meant for it to be maybe 10 chapters and be super vague about the timeline.

But I think I’m just as much in love with this story as a lot of you are and dang it I want more! That means I have to write more, and that means I need to give myself space to actually be approaching it as a story.

And not as something I wish was happening in my life.

To anyone still reading, thank you, this thing was long than some of the stories I’ve written! But I wanted to share this. Yes, to explain why Declarations is currently in carbonite. But more importantly to talk about mental health.

Mental health fucking sucks my dudes. It’s hard and it’s messy and sometimes it comes out of nowhere and then leaves after eating your favorite snacks and cold clocking you at 3 AM.

I’ve been on a hell of a journey.

And a lot of you are too.

I’m not “tumblr famous” and I don’t think I’m any sort of well known fandom writer. But There’s enough of you out there that I wanted to post this in case you need to know that you’re not alone out there.

If any of you EVER need to talk, please shoot me a message! I’m legit down to talk about my fics, about your fics, about meta, theories, characters, what ifs, AU’s, etc. I’m ALSO legit down to talk about mental health and all the messy things that come with that. If you want to chat with someone about your fears, your ideation, your intrusive thoughts, HIT ME UP!

You’ve all been here for me, even though you didn’t know it.

I’d like to return that favor. So anytime, anyplace, please hit me up. I promise, nothing you’ve done is unacceptable or beyond the line.

After all, in case you’d like a breakdown of the way I had a breakdown this last year, in the span of 10 hours I literally:

Accidentally self inserted myself into a fic and didn’t realize it until asked about why characters were acting that way, got angry over someone not knowing what I didn’t even know especially when it wasn’t explicit, then immediately felt like the Worst Person ever for getting mad and anxious, went home and cried ugly sobs on my cat, debated if I deserved to live before immediately deciding that DUH OF COURSE I DO, but that I was just a sad sack and everyone knew it, ate one single can of vienna sausage directly out of the can for dinner, washed it down with waaaay too much box wine, cried again about fictional characters because I had “ruined” them, asked my best friend (drunkenly mind you) if I was a good person because I thought I was secretly the worst and a manipulator b/c I self inserted myself into my own fanfiction, and then spent the next 6 months or so anxiously opening and closing my google doc in fear of What I Might Learn About Myself or worse the discovery that I Had Been A Bad Person b/c I stated my thought process out clearly but obviously that’s just “mean” to do because I am a bad and can’t not do mean or something!

Like...I get why I did it but fucks sake me. It took a lot of broken logic to get there. Looking back I don’t know how I did that actually. This is a self call out. I am @ing myself.

So, yeah.

Not sure how to end this. So...uh, feel free to talk to me if you want to!

#personal #cw: anxiety #cw: depression #cw:suicidal ideation #mental health #a frank look at the state of my mind over the last 3 years or so #while I don't know why anyone WOULD share this you are welcome to share it #seriously please PM me if you need someone to talk to #I'm italian american #I can talk for HOURS #I don't know how to end personal stories #or fictional ones HEY OH #buh-dum-tish #I'm hilarious and you all know it #seriously feeling like a writing GOD right now #and like a functional person #and good #like in my life in general right now #it's equally nice and weird!#therapy here I fucking come #*insert John Boyega and his popcorn meme here*#oversharing?#love you folks!#y'all so cool!#also y'all let me use y'all unironically which is just sweet #I also don't know how to end the tags on personal shit #:p #Started with one cat and vague interest in SW TCW #Now I have 2 cats-my best friend living with me-the will to live-and a deep love of SW TCW!#superb gains if I do say so myself

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nebulous-frog · 6 years

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A Match a Day Since 1965

Summary: Phil works at a diner with a sign that says "Matching soulmates daily since 1965” and he never really understood it until one day, he did.

Everyone has a soulmate and you know you've met them when you injure yourself in front of them. Marks show where and how badly you will be injured.

Word Count: 2863

Pairing: Phan

Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Getting Together

Warnings: There are injuries and a little blood and some hospitalization but it’s all fine, everybody’s fine, this is a strictly fluffy sappy cute fic I promise

Author’s Note: I really liked the prompt I created for my soulmate fic I Got You and wanted to write another based on that idea, so here it is!

Special thanks to @auroraphilealis and @sleeplessnightwithphan for betaing!

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

Phil really didn’t get why they even had the sign. It didn’t make any sense to him. He had seen the standard McDonald’s “Over 99 billion customers served” signs, of course, but the local diner he worked at had put a spin on their sign, and it didn’t fully make sense to Phil. Instead of it being about how many customers they’d served, it was about soulmates.

The sign read: “Matching soulmates daily since 1965”.

Now, Phil could understand the appeal, as soulmates are a big deal, obviously, but he also didn’t understand why that was something the diner advertised so proudly. Sure, love was found there more often than not (the sign wasn’t lying about the daily thing. It was weirdly accurate), but the way soulmates found each other wasn’t exactly... pleasant.

Why would a restaurant want to advertise that at least two people got injured in their establishment every day?

Phil really did get wanting to find your match, your life partner, your other half, since that was all he wanted, too, but he wasn’t exactly excited about the injury part. His arm bore an orange scratch mark, which meant he’d definitely need stitches when he met his soulmate, and would probably pass out from the pain. Phil didn’t like pain.

When he first saw that there was a job opening at the diner, he hadn’t been too sure he wanted to try for it. He knew the soulmates reputation, and had heard of enough matches happening there that he didn’t doubt the accuracy of the rumors, but he wasn’t sure that was something he wanted to risk for himself. If he worked there, he was likely to get injured at work.

He thought knowing where he was probably going to get a significant injury would just make him more anxious about when it might happen, especially since it meant he would meet his soulmate at the same time. Phil reasoned himself into applying for it anyway, trying to convince himself that it was just because he needed the money, but he knew a small part of it was that he really did want to finally meet his soulmate, although he’d never admit that out loud. He was still worried about meeting his soulmate, but, as it turned out, it wasn’t actually all that big of a deal when it eventually happened.

It happened about six months after Phil began working at the diner. It was your average Thursday night, and Phil was sick of working already. He was just finishing up his shift as host, waiting for his coworker to come in and take over so he could go home and wash off all the restaurant grime. No soulmates had been found yet today, despite the fact that the restaurant had been open for almost 12 hours already.

No one was concerned about the multi-decade streak ending, though. They’d had ambulances called in their last few hours of the day enough times to know that 7pm was only the beginning.

It was a relatively slow night, as Thursdays tended to be, so Phil was stood at the host’s stand doodling on a random notepad while waiting for something to happen. He jolted upright when he heard the door open, reached for the menus, and spewed out his welcome spiel.

“Hello, welcome to the-“ he began, but abruptly stopped as he watched the customer trip over nothing, windmill for a second, and then fall headfirst into the host stand with a yelp.

Phil sighed internally. Here come the soulmates of the day, he thought as he sprang into action. All of the employees at the restaurant had been trained in basic first aid since these accidents happened so often.

Pushing the “Injury in the Lobby” button on the host stand to send an alert back to his manager, Phil quickly moved around the stand to see the man, who was now groaning on the floor.

Unfortunately for Phil, his hand got stuck on some of the wood of the host stand because of a loose nail that caught his sleeve. When he tried to pull it away, he just made it worse and scraped his arm along the nail. He cried out in pain, finally getting his sleeve free of the nail, and held his left arm with his right hand. Adrenaline rushing through him. All Phil could do was follow the procedures drilled into his head: push the Injury button after the first injury, then again after the second injury, then help as best you can.

So that’s what Phil did; he reached blindly for the button again and pressed it before turning back to the man still lying on the floor.

“Sir, can you hear me?” he asked through his light-headedness.

He heard a groan resembling a “yes” in response.

“Can you tell me what hurts?”

The man simply pointed at his head, which was bleeding slightly. Phil’s breathing quickened at the sight. He hated seeing blood, absolutely couldn’t stand it. He had a responsibility, however, so he cautiously approached the man and kneeled next to him, still clutching his own arm.

As soon as he got there, however, Phil realized he was in a bit of a predicament. He didn’t want to let go of his arm because he felt like it was comforting him, but he had to in order to be able to properly tend to the man as he awaited extra help. He looked down at his arm again, wondering why it hurt so goddamn much.

Phil’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of red dripping down his arm. Oh yeah, he thought, I scraped it. He felt sluggish and detached all of a sudden, his vision tunneling and the little bit of the room he could still see starting to spin.

“Phil?” he heard distantly. It sounded almost like his manager, but that couldn’t be true. Phil was in bed. Wasn’t he?

He blinked heavily and noticed the blood again. Slowly turning his head, Phil saw the concerned gaze of his manager. “Blood. There’s- there’s blood,” he said, tongue heavy in his mouth. He could feel his head spinning faster. He opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could say anything, the tunnel darkened until his vision went completely black.

When Phil came to, he was disoriented and had a headache. And his arm hurt. Why did his arm hurt?

He looked down at it to find it wrapped in a bandage. He also saw pristine walls and smelled too-clean-to-be-normal air. To his left was another bed, featuring a sleeping man about his height with brown curly hair hanging over a bandage on his head.

Oh. I’m in a hospital, Phil realized. Wait. Why am I in a hospital?

Just as he started to panic again, the door opened and a nurse stepped in.

“Mr. Lester, it’s good to see you awake!”

Phil relaxed a little at the friendly face. “Thanks. I don’t really remember what happened, though?”

“Well, it seems like you cut yourself on a loose nail while at work just after Mr. Howell over here tripped and hit his head.”

“Oh.” Phil thought for a moment, trying to get his still-foggy brain to catch up to the conversation. “Why was I asleep?”

“We believe you fainted at the sight of your own blood. Has that ever happened to you before?”

Phil blushed. It definitely had and was embarrassing every time. He nodded sheepishly before he realized something. “Wait a minute, did you say I injured myself right after he hit his head?” Phil asked, gesturing to the man on the other bed, eyes wide.

The nurse’s eyes twinkled in excitement and amusement. “Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh my god.” Phil whipped his head around to look at the man again. “Is there… you know?”

“When we were treating both of you, we found that your marks perfectly matched your injuries. Congratulations!”

Phil stared at the man in the bed in awe. He didn’t know what else to do. His soulmate, the one person he’d been waiting to meet his whole life, was in the bed next to him, peacefully sleeping. “What’s his name?”

“Daniel Howell,” the nurse supplied. “He’s due for another wake-up call now to monitor his concussion, but you two will make a full recovery.”

All Phil could do was nod. He had stopped paying attention after “Daniel Howell,” and was now inspecting him. He just couldn’t stop staring at the perfect brown curls pushed back by the bandage, the lanky limbs that simultaneously looked elegant and like they were just as problematic and clumsy as Phil’s own, and the pale chapped lips.

The nurse woke Daniel up.

“Mr. Howell?”

The man groaned and opened his eyes. He looked around a little, presumably to get his bearings, and froze when his eyes met Phil’s. “You’re awake,” he gasped.

Phil grinned and nodded. “So are you. It’s nice to meet you.”

Daniel blushed. “You, too.”

The nurse ran the checks on Daniel to make sure he was recovering. When she left, Daniel turned his head towards Phil again.

"Um. Hi," he said. "I'm Dan."

Phil giggled at his awkwardness. "I'm Phil. Are you feeling alright?"

"I kind of have a headache and I feel a bit weird, but I'm okay. You? What happened to you?" Dan’s eyes fell to Phil’s bandaged arm.

"I scratched my arm against a wayward nail on the host's stand. I guess I needed some stitches."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

Dan’s worried expression was both incredibly cute and distressing to Phil. He never wanted to see Dan upset again.

Phil looked away in embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just pass out at the sight of my own blood. I think I saw some of your blood, too, which didn’t really help anything. Seeing your blood was when I first started to feel lightheaded, and then I saw my own blood on my hand and got super dizzy and eventually passed out before I could help you."

"Wow, that sounds awful."

"It wasn't really that bad. I'm okay now. Plus, now we've met, and that's really exciting!"

Dan smiled. "It is, isn't it? I'm really tired, though. I wish we could talk longer but I'm afraid I'll fall asleep on you."

"Oh, no, you rest. I'll be here."

"Okay. We can talk more later, then?"

"Of course!"

With that, Dan smiled at Phil one more time, then closed his eyes and turned away so he could fall asleep. Phil turned his head to rest on his pillow as he stared at the ceiling and listened to Dan’s breathing even out.

Wow. I actually found my soulmate at work. Will I get compensation for the nail thing? I mean, it wasn't really my fault that the stand had a nail sticking out of it, now, was it? I'm just so glad I've met Dan. He seems really nice. I can't wait for us to talk more.

A few hours later, Dan and Phil were discharged from the hospital with strict instructions to rest. They walked out together, arms brushing against each other occasionally.

"I'm glad I met you. I know we haven't really talked yet or gotten to know each other, but I know that I already like you a lot," said Dan.

"I feel the same," said Phil. "Do you want to come with me to my flat so we can talk a bit? I know it's, like, one in the morning, but you could stay over for the night if you want?"

Dan grinned. "That sounds lovely."

They took a cab back to Phil's place, talking quietly about themselves and their interests. When they arrived at Phil's flat, they went inside and sat on his couch to talk some more.

"Why did you come to my restaurant today, by the way?" asked Phil.

"To get some dinner," Dan replied cheekily. Phil sent him an unimpressed look, so Dan continued. "I've always seen the sign about the soulmates, you know? And I figured I might as well give it a shot since I haven’t had any luck finding mine."

Phil nodded. "We get a lot of people coming in because of that sign. I don't really get it sometimes, because we're advertising that at least two people injure themselves in our diner every day, which does not seem healthy, but I think I'm understanding it a bit more now that I've met you. People were always so desperate to meet their soulmates and feel what I'm feeling right now, and I understand."

"What are you feeling now?"

"I'm not really sure, but I know that it's good, and I know that it’s about you."

Dan blushed. "I don't know what I'm feeling, either, but it's definitely a good feeling, too."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, just looking at each other.

"You're really pretty," Phil told Dan, who blushed violently.

"Thank you. I think you're beautiful."

Phil blushed, too. "Thank you." He paused, debating whether or not to say what he was thinking.

"What's wrong?" Dan asked. "Your face just got all serious."

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong, I promise, I just... I wanted to tell you that I think I really like you."

Dan laughed. "Well, given that we're soulmates, I would hope you'd like me at least a little bit."

"No, I mean- god, this sounds childish- I like like you."

Dan's eyes widened, before he grinned. "I like-like you, too."

Phil grinned sheepishly, mostly avoiding eye contact except for a few quick and accidental glances. He couldn’t help it; his soulmate was just so attractive.

“So, um. Now what?” Phil asked.

Giggling, Dan took Phil’s hand. “Now I have a question for you.”

“Oh, okay. What’s the question?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Phil’s eyes snapped back to Dan’s and he smiled wider than he thought was possible. “Of course I will.” He scooted closer and cuddled into Dan.

“Good, cuz you’re stuck with me whether you want me or not.”

“Hmm, I think I can live with that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Phil returned to work the next day, walking Dan to his own flat on the way.

“Phil! Good to have you back!” his manager said.

“Thanks! Sorry I basically skipped the rest of my shift yesterday,” Phil said as he put his hosting apron on.

“Nonsense! You needed stitches for your arm and you met your soulmate! Besides, without you injuring yourself, we would’ve needed to change our sign.”

“Oh, were we the only soulmates yesterday?”

“Yeah. Sticking to our one-a-day streak of the last week, here.”

“Hey, at least it keeps the ambulance from coming twice.”

“Too true, too true. Go on, get to work, then.” Phil’s manager shooed Phil to the front of the restaurant, where he waited for someone to come in.

He didn’t have to wait long, since it was a Friday afternoon and school was just letting out. Students often came for milkshakes after a long week.

A group of giggling teenage girls walked in, and Phil greeted them before taking them to a table.

“Your server will be right with you,” he said, turning to go.

“Wait!” one of the girls piped up. “Real quick, I have a question for you, if that’s okay, that is?”

“Of course!”

“Well, Brittany over here just moved and didn’t believe us when we told her you guys match soulmates daily, so I was wondering if you could give her some recent examples please?”

Phil grinned. Before yesterday, he would’ve had to fake that smile as he rattled off a story he’d told fifty times that week. Now, however, he just remembered Dan.

“Oh, a nonbeliever, I see! Well, how about yesterday’s? A man walked in and immediately tripped over nothing and smacked into the host stand, banging his head pretty hard. I went to help him and scratched my arm on the stand, and now I know my soulmate!” He paused as the girls cooed. “There are plenty of other stories, though, too.”

“Okay, but that could happen anywhere!” one girl, probably Brittany, exclaimed.

Phil nodded in agreement. “These accidents could happen anywhere, that’s true, but they also happen here. You know, every matched employee here actually met their soulmate in this diner. I could also tell you the story of every matched couple this week, really, but that would take a while. Besides, you’re certainly not the first skeptic to walk in here.”

The girl who originally asked him to explain spoke up then. “Thank you for the story! I’m sure we’ll convince her eventually. Congratulations on finding your soulmate!”

“Thank you! I’d better head back to work now, but enjoy your meal!”

Phil smiled again as he stood behind the host stand and looked at the spot where he’d met his soulmate. Maybe the sign on the restaurant was a bit strange, but at least it was true, skeptics-be-damned.

And if Brittany met her soulmate that very day in the diner, well, nobody else had to hear his soft “told you so” as she and her soulmate left with matching grins and bruises.

#phan #phanfic #phandom #soulmates au #phan fluff

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coolgreatwebsite · 6 years

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Cool Games I Finished In 2017 (In No Real Order)

Civilization The year is nearing its end, so that means it’s once again time for one of these. 2017 has been rough for pretty much everyone, but even divorced from the state of the world this was unquestionably the worst year of my life. 2017 was a goddamn nightmare where nearly everything went wrong for me in the most major way possible. Consequently I didn’t get to do as much writing as I would have liked, and I ended up playing fewer games with almost all of them being 2017 releases. But! The video games were very fun!! So it all cancels out!!! Everything’s okay!!!! Here’s a bunch of cool games I experienced for the first time in 2017.

Dandy Dungeon: Legend of Brave Yamada (iOS, 2017)

Dandy Dungeon is weird as hell, which makes sense given that it was made by a lot of people who originally worked on games like Chulip and Freshly-Picked Tingle’s Rosy Rupeeland. It’s a free-to-play phone game that’s sort of a cross between a puzzle game and a dungeon crawler. Guide your semi-nude hero Yamada to the exit of the 5x5 dungeon grid in a single line, trying to touch every tile along the way, gathering treasure and beating up enemies to level up. Solving the floors and making the perfect line is satisfying, the story and enemies are all very strange, and there's a ton of content. The free-to-play monetization isn’t too obtrusive either, you can either buy straight up convenience features like unlimited energy and a mid-dungeon item storage system or buy rice balls that can be used as gacha entries or continues if you die in a dungeon and don’t want to give up your treasure. I felt 100% okay with giving the weirdos who made this game money. The same people put out another game this year, Million Onion Hotel, and I barely put any time into it because I just kept playing Dandy Dungeon. I’m very much looking forward to really playing that whenever the hell I finally burn out on this.

Yakuza 0 (PlayStation 4, 2017)

Yakuza 0 is a hell of a game, and a hell of an introduction to the Yakuza series for anyone who hasn’t played it. Set in 1988, the game follows series mainstays Kiryu and Majima as they deal with the events that made them who they are in the games to follow. While I ended up still liking Yakuza 5 more if only for the sheer scope and variety of it, Yakuza 0 is very easily the second best game in the series. It has one of the most straightforward, coherent and engaging narratives out of all of them, it pulls off its setting so well that it made me sort of nostalgic for an era I wasn’t even alive for, and the localization/writing is unquestionably the best the series has had. Almost every single sidequest is funny or memorable in some way and I just can’t say that about the rest of the games. It’s not flawless. The combat unsurprisingly pulls very heavily from Yakuza 5 but with multiple fighting styles for Kiryu and Majima taking the place of multiple characters, and I mostly found myself just sticking with one style for each of them. Beast and Breaker were just too good. The story, while mostly good as previously stated, does have its stumbling points. Some characters and events definitely aren’t given enough breathing room, mostly on the Majima side of things, and weirdly enough the game holds back on having Kiryu and Majima interact for the most part. Overall though, Yakuza 0 is a fantastic encapsulation of why I love this series so damn much and the absolute best jumping on point a newcomer could ask for. Plus Space Harrier is in it! Every game is better when you can also play Space Harrier.

NieR: Automata (PlayStation 4, 2017)

I feel like every year I do one of these lists there’s a game where I start off by saying “This game is good, but”. NieR: Automata is this year’s game. NieR: Automata is a good game, but I did not have the fervent, visceral reaction to it that most other people seem to have had, and my feelings are muddied even further by the lingering feeling that I SHOULD have. I love the first NieR. It’s one of my favorite games of all time. I love PlatinumGames. They’re one of my favorite developers of all time. Yet I came away from Automata somewhat... I don’t know if it’s disappointed. I guess “left wanting” might be a more accurate description? Again, don’t get me wrong here, this is a good game. There’s a lot to like in NieR: Automata. It’s a wild ride, but for me that’s... kind of it? The game shuttles you from crazy setpiece to crazy setpiece, but the second I stopped to think about anything that happened in any sort of detail it all just got real murky. I didn’t feel connected to any of the characters, outside two exceptions, and one of those is a character from the first game that I already loved. NieR: Automata’s storytelling is much more reliant and focused on its themes and imagery than anything that really actually happens during the course of the story, and I’ve never been a huge fan of narratives like that. I need a strong connection to characters and events and places, and whereas the first NieR had that by the truckload, Automata super doesn’t. There’s also the part where a lot of what Automata does, I feel the original game did better. Automata’s music is good, but NieR’s is better. The multiple playthrough system feels like it’s just tacked on because the first game did it, where in the original it was absolutely vital to that game’s story. Same goes for the choice you make in the final ending. The most I can say as far as improvements go is that the combat, while about as mindless, certainly looks better and overall the sidequests are less tedious and grindy. It’s been a very weird experience seeing the huge, widespread positive reaction to this game essentially mirror my feelings on the first game while I’m just sort of left to grumble about how the first game did all that better under my breath. Not that I’m not glad it got a positive reception! It’s great that this game has been such a success and that so many people have finally had their Yoko Taro Moment™. Like I’ve gone out of my way to state multiple times: the game is still good. There’s some wild shit to see in NieR: Automata, and while it didn’t leave a positive lasting impression on me, I very much had a good time with it in the moment.

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Nintendo Switch, 2017)

I thought I was done with open world games. I had pretty much decided I was two years ago. I was so tired of the checklists, the boring traversal, the endless swaths of fucking nothing between mission A and mission B, the heaps of useless collectible garbage littering the ground trying to trick you into thinking you’re doing something. I was perfectly content with never playing an open world game again, and when Nintendo started promoting the new Zelda with that familiar Bethesda-esque “go any direction, climb any mountain” rhetoric and showed you climbing towers to reveal the map, I for all intents and purposes checked the fuck out. I didn’t care that it was Zelda, I didn’t care that it was Nintendo, I was just fucking done with all of that... I thought. The more time went on, the more impressions got out, and the more impressions got out, the more of my individual sticking points seemed to have been addressed. Yeah, you climb towers, but all that does is fill in the topography of the map. You don’t get flooded with a million activity and collectible icons, it’s up to you to scope out what looks interesting. And most importantly, while the landmass is large, there’s always something around the corner. I decided to get Breath of the Wild along with my Switch and I’m so glad I did. If I hadn’t been whittled down by pre-release chatter I would have missed out on one of the best games I’ve ever played. It’s like Nintendo explicitly set out to fix every problem I had with open world games. The way the systems in the world interact with each other, how much of a joy it is to explore and traverse the terrain, and the fact that there really IS always something to find make for a breathtaking game. If you go in any direction, you’ll trip over dozens of neat things to do and see. If you climb any mountain, there’s a good chance there will be something waiting for you at the top (and along the way), from a simple Korok seed puzzle to a full-blown shrine dungeon. The game gives you no truly firm direction once you leave the tutorial area, so it really is up to you to explore and find what you want. You can even run straight for the final boss if you want! The traditional Zelda-style puzzles are all super smart and satisfying to solve. I even liked the Divine Beast dungeons and boss fights, which I feel like I’m in the minority about. I finally took on Ganon after about 100 hours of playing the game and I hadn’t been so sad that a game was over since I beat Persona 3. Breath of the Wild is just an incredible, once in a lifetime game. I can’t wait to do it all again next year when I do another playthrough with all the DLC.

Persona 5 (PlayStation 4, 2017)

Persona 3 will likely always be nearest and dearest to my heart, but Persona 5 is objectively the best Persona game. They’ve polished the Persona formula to such a perfect mirror sheen in this one and I’ve never seen a game so consistently and effortlessly ooze such a concentrated amount of liquid capital-“S” Style before. The plot doesn’t intimately revolve around the cast to the degree Persona 4′s does, but they’ve made another charming band of anime teens nonetheless. They’ve either restored or re-worked nearly every mechanical aspect that was dropped between Persona 3 and 4. The soundtrack is incredible, there’s actually a decent amount of non-party S-Links again, the end of the game sticks the landing in a way Persona 4 very much does not... I could keep going. Persona 5 just plain rules. It’s the only game in the series where (even though I haven’t yet) I’ve actually wanted to jump in and do a New Game+ run.

Wonder Boy: The Dragon’s Trap (Nintendo Switch, 2017)

As I may have mentioned in a certain other article from this year, I have had very little love for Wonder Boy over the years. That changed a bit when I decided to try out Monster World IV a few years ago, and I think I’m officially a Wonder Boy Liker after playing The Dragon’s Trap. A remake of Wonder Boy 3 for the Master System, Dragon’s Trap is essentially just an extremely pretty coat of paint on a very early Metroidvania sort of game, but it’s remarkable how well the core gameplay holds up. You start as a human and very early on you’re transformed into a dragon, and you explore the world until you reach a boss which, upon being defeated, transforms you into a mouse. Your mouse form has the ability to enter narrow spaces and stick to certain walls, which allows you to reach new areas, bosses and transformations. Defeated enemies drop coins that you can use to purchase new weapons and armor from shops hidden across the world. It’s fairly simple, but I think that’s the reason it’s still so enjoyable today. The controls are tight and responsive and it doesn’t really date itself in too many ways. They went to great lengths to recreate the original game, down to being able to swap between the remade and classic graphics and music with a button press. Old passwords from the original game even work in the remake. The new art and music are beautiful and the game is the perfect length to not overstay its welcome. You can tell the people who made this really love the original game, and they absolutely did right by it.

Resident Evil 7: Biohazard (PlayStation 4, 2017)

I never in a million years expected to like Resident Evil 7 as much as I did. I played the demo back when it came out and thought it was okay, and I mainly got the full game so I could play something on my PSVR. It’s kind of crazy how, after so many years of Resident Evil stumbling, Capcom managed to just get everything back on track just like that. They made Resident Evil tense and scary again. The VR is insanely effective but even playing through on a regular ol’ TV, which I did multiple times after my initial VR playthrough, they manage to capture a really good, persistent sense of dread. For most of the game, anyway. The last third definitely slips a bit too far back into action game territory, and while it’s still enjoyable it’s definitely weaker than what came before. I beat this for the first time right before the next game on the list came out, and even while super deep into that I couldn’t stop thinking about Resident Evil 7. I really need to go back and play all the DLC.

Super Mario Odyssey (Nintendo Switch, 2017)

2017 was Nintendo’s year. They released my favorite console in a good long while with the Switch, launched it with one of the greatest games of all time, and closed out the year with another incredible game in Super Mario Odyssey. Mario Odyssey has finally dethroned Mario 64 as my favorite 3D exploration Mario game. It’s like Breath of the Wild in that there’s something to find in every nook and cranny, but condensed down into multiple, more tightly designed areas. It’s an absolute joy to play. I 100%ed the game and not once in the 50-ish hours that took did I get tired of controlling Mario. The movement options all flow together so naturally and complement the spaces you explore so well. Landing a long jump > hat throw > dive > hat bounce > dive combo across a huge gap was the most satisfying thing in the world to pull off even as I grabbed the very last power moon. The variety of the worlds and challenges and things to capture kept me in a constant state of excitement about what was coming up next, and the game is consistently charming in both weird new ways and a couple of very effective nostalgic ones. My only real complaints are that I think it’s maybe the easiest Mario game ever made, and I wish more of the platforming challenges were baked into the worlds proper instead of cordoned off into their own little challenge rooms, but basically everything else about the game manages to make those minor somehow. Mario Odyssey is distilled happiness in video game form, and the world needs more of that.

Sonic Mania (PlayStation 4, 2017)

Ohhhh myyyyy Goddddddddddddd Sonic Mania. I cannot fucking believe how awesome Sonic Mania is. I love the Genesis Sonic games so fucking much and while I like Sonic Adventure 1 despite itself, there hasn’t been a good Sonic game since Sonic 3 & Knuckles. The Genesis games always were and will always be great fucking video games, despite what internet fuckboys say because Sonic’s an easy target to dunk on. I’ll take Sonic 3 & Knuckles over Super Mario World any day of the fucking week. Fight me. I’ll cut you. With Sonic Mania, there is FINALLY, fucking TWENTY-THREE GODDAMN YEARS LATER, a legitimately great Sonic The Hedgehog game again, and I’m stunned. I was INSANELY skeptical about this game from the minute it was announced until basically the moment I played it. Yeah, they brought in people from the hacking and fan-game community to work on this one instead of letting Sonic Team touch it, but I’m close enough to those communities to know that that on its own is NOT enough to guarantee the game would be good. Yeah, Taxman and Stealth made an extremely good replica of the Sonic 1-3&K engine, but they absolutely did not have the design chops to tackle anything but ports successfully. That new version of Hidden Palace they added into the iOS port of Sonic 2 was a complete trash fire. Thankfully they linked up with PagodaWest Games, a company made up of a lot of the non-insane elements behind the old Sonic 2 HD project, who as it turns out very much did have the design chops. Together they made something incredible. It obviously controls perfectly given the engine, but the levels are so fun and well-crafted. The classic levels manage to mix in so many different elements from other levels that didn’t quite make it in the game on top of there being weird twists on those on TOP of all the completely new elements, and the brand new levels are lavish with all sorts of super fun new gimmicks and details. The game looks fucking gorgeous, going for a sort of “what if they had made a 2D Sonic for the Saturn” look that it pulls off great, even going so far as to render the special stages in low-poly 3D. The music is P-H-E-N-O-M-E-N-A-L, sounding like a lost ‘90s Japanese arrange CD but without all the bad aspects that usually come with those. There’s so many dumb, great little details for hardcore classic Sonic and Sega fans littered throughout the game. They managed to fucking combine Oil Ocean and Sandopolis, my least favorite zone from Sonic 2 and one of the worst zones in the entire SERIES, and have me come away from it not hating it. It’s masterful. It’s beautiful. It’s right up there with Sonic 3 & Knuckles for best in the series. Nothing this year made me so genuinely, personally delighted. Sonic Mania was made just for me and I love it and I want another one with all original levels as soon as possible. Please let these people make video games for me forever.

Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Nintendo Switch, 2017)

The original Xenoblade is one of my favorite RPGs of the last generation. Then they released Xenoblade Chronicles X for the Wii U and broke my goddamn heart. They tossed out nearly everything I loved about the first game in favor of haphazardly dumping as many disjointed game mechanics as they could on top of bland open world exploration and needlessly grindy progression. It was such a hard swerve that by the time they had gotten around to announcing a proper Xenoblade 2 for the Switch I had basically abandoned all hope of it being a game I’d like. But for some reason, I still decided to give Monolithsoft one last shot. And I’m glad I did! While not quite as cohesive and instantly-endearing as the original, they definitely righted the ship. There’s a bunch of weird mechanics, but in the good Xenoblade 1 way where they mete them all out at an appropriate pace and explain them and they all fit together. The cast of characters is likable, the music is great, the gameplay is engaging all the way through. They managed to pull it off, and I’m back on board for a potential Xenoblade 3.

These games were also cool, I just had less words to say about them: Splatoon 2 (Nintendo Switch, 2017): Splatoon is great. Splatoon 2 is more of that. The new weapons are fun, the new maps are cool, Salmon Run is the most fun I’ve ever had with a horde mode. I played it for like 100 hours already. Not too much else to say! Play Splatoon 2! Hitman (PlayStation 4, 2016): Hitman is an amazing sandbox. Whether I was following along with the authored ways to kill my targets, doing things my own way or trying to get out of a situation that went completely south, Hitman constantly surprised me with the variety of things I could do and options I could take advantage of. And there’s so damn much content to do it all in. DDRMAX, DDRMAX2 & Dance Dance Revolution Extreme (PlayStation 2, 2002, 2003 & 2004): This doesn’t really teeeechnically fit on this list but I would be remiss not to bring up my rekindled love affair with DDR this year. My very good friend who I am very appreciative towards at all times Geoff generously gifted me an old Cobalt Flux dance pad back in like June and I have been playing DDR again ever since and it’s still great. I can clear some songs on heavy now. Thanks Geoff. Glittermitten Grove (Steam, 2016): A very normal game about fairies, and not about shaving. Tekken 7 (PlayStation 4, 2017): Tekken 7 is the first Tekken game I’ve cared about in like a decade. I couldn’t really tell you exactly why, to be honest, but the fact of the matter is that Tekken 7 is very fun to play and I highly recommend it. Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus (PlayStation 4, 2017): I think the gameplay of this is worse than the first game, but everything else is stronger. Hopefully they fix it up and make a game that’s great all around next time. Gundam Versus (PlayStation 4, 2017): Gundam Versus is basically a team based Virtual On. I had a lot of fun with an old version of the game at various events I went to throughout the year and I had a lot of fun with this one even though I didn’t play it nearly as much as I wanted to. Clowning on people with Guntank in 1v1 is probably the hardest I laughed all year.

And that’s it! That’s 2017! It’s done! Good riddance! Thank you all again for bothering to read my video game words. If you need me, I’ll be training to deliver many extremely savage elbow drops to 2018 until it gives me what I want.

#article #year wrapup

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skarsbill-blog · 7 years

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Forbidden - Chapter II

Chapter II! A little more character development but for the most part, it’s a long one and we’re getting in to the story now, and getting to the bottom of what exactly went down between Bill and Vida, and where their feeling are at now. Please let me know what you think so far! I would really appreciate hearing from anyone who reads so I know to do more. If you’re looking for the first chapter, I will be posting all parts to this under the ‘Stories’ link on my blog.

Happy reading!

It’s been a week since my move and I feel as though things are finally falling in to place, I’m feeling a little more at home. My apartment was completely unpacked and seeing it clean and free of cardboard boxes made my heart swell with gratitude at how grateful I was to be able to have such nice things in my life. My new apartment was gorgeous, beyond anything I ever thought I would ever be able to call my own. A four-bedroom dream home that featured dark brown, matte floor boards that covered every floor in the house, apart from my bathrooms where marble tiles took over from the floor to the ceiling. All of my walls were true white, my kitchen all white with marble bench tops and all of my furnishing either grey, white, silver or marble as well. My environment is important to me, this felt pristine and pure, crisp and perfect for me, perfect for my fresh start.

Today was my first day in my new office, and weirdly enough I wasn’t nervous. I think having gained experience with the company and the role already, this was just a matter of a change of scenery and people, which I could handle. I got up, put on my face, dressed myself in a loose black soft cotton t-shirt that I tucked in to a high waisted, ¾ length black skirt and accessorised with some black around-the-ankle strap on Lou B’s, a gold chain and a gold watch. Going to work I liked to keep it simple, and although my whole environment was a true reflection of how much my soul appreciated light, I truly loved wearing black. I grabbed my bag, my keys and headed straight to my car, knowing very well I had to allow PLENTY of time to get to where I was going in this city.

I parked in my designated spot and made my way in to the elevator, up to the top floor of the building. The office space was beautiful, luxurious, like they always were. I spent the day mostly introducing myself and building relationships with my new colleagues before attending all of my afternoon publicity appointments. While writing for Vogue as an expert in mostly styling, fashion, makeup and trends, I was always allocated a role in supervising photo shoots as someone with an eye for what will look good amongst the pages of our magazine. This also meant that I had the opportunity to meet a lot of amazing people, from models, actors all the way to people who did amazing things for the community.

Today’s shoot involved a male for our Hottest Man of the Year issue, I had no clue who it was but the title of the issue they were chosen for says a lot about the kind of person they would be. I entered the studio, introduced myself to the team and began discussing plans with the artists and stylists on set, trying my best to get a feel for the vision so that I could make accurate judgements on what needs to be done to achieve it.

“This all looks awesome, I’m loving it so far. So who is our model today, because truthfully I have no clue.” I laughed with one of the photographers and he rolled his eyes at me playfully.

“This year the lucky gentleman is none other than Alexander Skarsgard. Gorgeous if I do say so myself, very tall.. kind of weirdly tall.” He trailed off and I laughed, before completely coming to terms with name that came out of his mouth.

“Alex Skarsg.. fuck.” “What?” “Nothing! Nothing, I’m just going to check on everyone and make sure we’re all on the same level with what we’re after today, good luck with your shots.”

Alex fucking Skarsgard, why is my luck literally maybe the worst of anyone’s ever? A week in to my move and an encounter with a Skarsgard is the last thing I need. I began trying to figure out how I was going to make my way through this without being seen, the only people who knew I was back were my parents and my brother, and that’s the way I’d prefer it to stay while I’m finding my feet. I never even completely wrapped my head around what happened between his brother and I, and to be honest I don’t want to. It’s too painful to think about, and I know very well how seeing Alex will make me feel.

I manage to lurk in the shadows during the whole shoot, giving my opinion only when needed and staying quiet every other time, daring not risk him noticing me. The shoot finished and I snuck out and back to my floor before being seen, relieved as soon as I made it inside the glass walls of my office, in disbelief of the bullet I dodged, and what a large bullet it was. I got straight back to work, answering any remaining emails from the day, sending off final editions to articles and making sure everyone had what they needed before making my way home. Engrossed in my inbox, I heard my door open and assumed it was one of the girls bringing me the final copy of their piece, instructing them to leave it on my desk and to have a nice night.

“Thanks, but that’s not why I’m here.” I froze immediately, my neck going hot at the sound of the voice in front of me, afraid to look up.

“Alex.. wow it’s so nice to see you, what are you doing here?” I looked up at him, puzzled, cursing at myself for obviously not being discreet enough.

“You really thought you could get away before I noticed you, I noticed you five minutes in to the shoot Vida, I know that face anywhere.” He smiled down at me, and I stood from my desk, giving in and smiling straight back.

“It’s so nice to see you Alex, truly” I breathed, walking around to give him a big hug, “I’ve uh.. I’ve moved back.” I looked at him, waiting for his reaction.

He grinned, moving over to sit on the lounge in the corner of my office as I followed, “You have? That’s awesome, Bill will be happy with that.”

I swallowed audibly at his words, shaking my head and looking down, “I’m not so sure about that Alex.” I laughed nervously, playing with my necklace and thinking back to everything that went wrong as soon as I left, thinking back to my relationship with my best friend completely falling apart.

He smiled and took my hand, holding it and offering me a reassuring look, “It was so good to see you Vida, congratulations on all of this incredible success, if anyone deserves it it’s you.”

“Thanks Alex, and same to you of course, you big movie star.” I laughed as I stood up, walking him to the door and farewelling him with one last hug.

What weird afternoon, I thought to myself as I fell on to my couch in a heap. While I can’t deny that seeing Alex had me shaken, I also can’t deny how nice it was to be in his presence, someone I grew so close to, being almost like a family member to the lot of them after knowing Bill so very well. Everyone knew the whole Skarsgard clan was full of lovely people, and there were never truer words spoken, I just wish things didn’t have to be snuffed out the way they were. On my way to run myself a rather large, extra bubbly bath with my extra full glass of wine, I heard my phone ring. Deciding almost instantly to ignore it, I continued on and spent the next hour thinking of every aspect of my life, making realisations and deciding what to have for dinner before hauling my ass out of the bath and in to the fluffiest bath robe I could find.

Knowing I couldn’t avoid checking my phone any longer after hearing my message tone three more times while bathing, I put the kettle on and walking straight over to it.

What I saw on the screen made my heart drop, I literally questioned whether or not I was hallucinating. A missed call and three text messages from none other than Bill himself. I stared at my phone like it was an alien, forgetting how to use it completely and unsure of how to make my brain start working again. I sat down slowly on the couch, first listening to the voicemail.

“Vida, it’s Bill.. in case you don’t have my number anymore. Alex told me you’ve moved home? I was so happy to hear, I was wondering if we could maybe catch up, I have so much to tell you and I’ve missed you s-“ he was cut off by the end of the message. I sighed, knowing this would happen and resenting the fact that it did. I had nothing to say to Bill, all of this makes me sound so angry but I’m not, I was done being angry a long time ago, now I’m just sad, hollow, disappointed and over it.

His messages were all similar, asking to see me and begging me not to avoid him because he knows I’ll try. I sighed, deciding to ignore the messages for now, needing time to think about how I need to answer these, well enough the first time for him to understand that I don’t want to go through this again.

The next day was thankfully Saturday, and I completely intended on doing nothing but sitting on my couch in my comfiest clothes, and doing absolutely nothing. I ended up mustering the courage to reply to Bill, confirming with him that I had moved back and that I needed time adjust and just be with my family. I was honest when telling him that I wasn’t really ready to see him and that I was still hurt by everything that happened. I hadn’t heard back from him, and hoped that this meant he got the message and was going to give me the space I requested.

It was around 5pm when I heard a knock on my door, assuming it was the food I had ordered I naively opened it, hating myself for not asking who was there first. There stood Bill, in all his gorgeous glory, looking down at me smiling, waiting for me to invite him inside. “Bill.. what are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?” I asked him, frowning, bordering on completely creeped out.

“Your Mum told me,” he smiled, moving past me in to my home like it was no big deal, “I know you asked me for space, but I know you would try to avoid me forever and I won’t let that happen.” “Bill, why couldn’t you just understand-“ “I understand Vida, but I don’t accept what you said, because I missed you so much and I’ve hated myself every day since we stopped talking. We were supposed to be there for each other, and for all of that time we weren’t, we were like strangers..” he trailed off, visibly upset as was I.

Seeing him in the flesh, right in front of me, made it hard for me to control my emotions. I began tearing silently, letting a few escape as I thought of what to say.

“Bill, you have no idea what you put me through, you ignored me for months, you pretended I didn’t exist. Don’t you dare come to my home, and act like this wasn’t all you!” I sobbed, visibly upset, feeling my sadness slowly turning to anger faster than I could process.

“You were the one who stopped answering my calls and texts. You’re the one who told me it was best if we stopped talking, what the fuck made you do that? What happened?” His eyes glazed over with guilt and sadness, but before he had the chance to speak I stepped in again,

“You have some nerve, waltzing straight back in to my life just because I’m back and you know you were the one who did this to us. Well I won’t let you, I finally have my shit sorted out, you destroyed me once and I won’t let you do it again.” I was back to sobbing like an absolute mess, staring straight in to eyes that were once so familiar, now I didn’t recognise them at all. ‘Vida.. please, I’m sorry, I swear I had reasons. You have no idea what doing that did to me too, I thought of you every second of every day, I-“ “Leave, now. Leave my apartment right now.. and never come back” “V,” “Now Bill, I’m serious.” I stood planted firmly in place, throwing daggers at him, completely serious and ready to call building security.

“Just know that I did it all for a reason, and that I want to tell you everything, that I’m sorry and that I just want my relationship with you back. You’re my best friend..” He trailed off, finding no sympathy from me, my body language completely defensive and dangerous. He frowned and walked away, closing the door softly behind him.

As soon as I knew he would have been in the elevator, I fell in to a ball and cried all of my hurt out, or at least attempted to. In complete disbelief of what just happened and what I had done, I went straight to bed, knowing very well that dwelling won’t do me any good. I had been here before, and this time I wasn’t staying.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #skarsgard #hemlock grove #roman godfrey #pennywise #it 2017

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eikotheblue · 7 years

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Darkness and Silence (on Aphantasia)

(This is an effortpost about my experiences with my self-diagnosed Aphantasia. While I believe everything that I’m saying and the personal stories are all accurate, I’ve not been formally diagnosed, the condition is understudied, and introspection is hard. It’s also very long, especially past the readmore.)

For me, one of the most obvious and powerful ideas in LW-rationalism is the typical mind fallacy, or the (often mistaken) belief that other people’s internal experiences are similar to yours when presented with the same stimuli. Reading that sentence really doesn’t convey how big of a deal this is, but I don’t think more words from me can do really do it justice; consider instead reading this post and the comments for a small glimpse into how different brains and experiences can be.

When I first read that post, the thing I thought of immediately was smell. I’ve never had a sense of smell that produces anything that looks like meaningful input, and until I was about 13 or so I just assumed that nobody could smell much of anything, or that I’d never been exposed to a strong scent. (Then I encountered Axe, and realized there was a stimuli that really was invisible to me). I could talk a lot about lack of smell, but not in this post, because while that was the first atypical mind characteristic I identified in myself, it is far less impactful than Aphantasia.

Aphantasia is described as “a condition where one does not possess a functioning mind's eye and cannot visualize imagery”. This describes my life experiences very well: I cannot recall or construct mental imagery, even slightly. To demonstrate this, I usually ask people to close their eyes and imagine a square. (Feel free to do so now, and lock the image in your head if you wish). I then ask questions like “What color is the square?” “What color is the background?” “How big is it, relative to your field of view?”, and people generate answers based on the square they imagined. I am always fascinated by these responses; if you perform the experiment and reblog, I’d love to see (either in reblog text or tags) the details of your square.

There is no square in my head. If you ask me to imagine a square, I see no image, only the concept of a 4-sided regular polygon. If you then ask me “what color it is”, I can pick a color at random (or one of my favorites), but the true answer is “None”; there’s no square to have a color. My thoughts and memories exist only as text, with webs of association and observation attached. If I’m asked to remember what something looked like, all that I can retrieve is thoughts that describe the thing I’ve seen, or facts that I know about it, if any.

Observant readers might notice that while the title of this post is “Darkness and Silence”, so far all that’s been discussed is the inability to visualize. Something that I hadn’t realized until very recently is that Aphantasia is more general than the name implies, at least for me (and others online by anecdote). I can’t directly recall any sensory input from memory, or create sensory input-like experiences ex nihilo. I can’t imagine or recall any sound, taste, touch, or even pain, all of which I have heard other people tell me they can do. From my point of view, it feels unbelievable and incredible that people can do this, and it is hard not to be jealous of that ability. Inside my head, it is dark, silent, still.

Aphantasia is not an inability to receive sensory input: i can still see/hear/etc, and describe what i’m experiencing. It is also not the inability to store sensory input at all, because I can recognize things that I’ve heard and seen before, and after recognizing them I can access details that I wouldn’t have been able to before (this comes up most often in music and other time-component experiences). Additionally, I can dream, and my dreams include images that I saw while awake, which means that the information is stored, just not directly retrievable. My dreams are all very visual, and have other sensory components as well. However, memory of the contents of dreams evaporate almost immediately: since I’m not awake to fully process what I’m seeing, all that gets ‘stored’ is fleeting bits of information, and the emotional state it ended in.

According to the data I’ve seen (which was of limited quality, since Aphantasia is very understudied), visualization and image recall ability vary a great deal from person to person: eidetic or “photographic” memory at the high end, and Aphantasia at the very other. The only place I’ve seen offering stats suggests that the incidence rate is around 2-5%, but the actual numbers could be very different: if I had read slightly different blogs or made slightly different friends, I never would have known!

Going through life without noticing that you have Aphantasia is incredibly easy: people have been doing it for probably longer than recorded history. There just isn’t a lot of evidence that would cause the casual observer to notice the problem: it’s really easy to excuse descriptions of a “mind’s eye” or discussions of visualization as flowery descriptions of the Aphantasia-equivalent skills that fill the gaps, and to just assume that the other variances are just weird quirks, because they don’t feel connected; without the central problem pointed out, it’s just an unlinked set of “things I appear to suck at”.

For me, the biggest observable was memory, and particularly what I called “raw memorization” growing up. I am good at remembering things I understand conceptually, but there are times when information (a chart, dates, a list of names in order, a paragraph of text) just needs to be stored for recall. I am terrible at this! I can manage, if the information is in the form of bindable text (Examples of bindable text are hard to give: a catchy phrase or good song lyrics are bindable, but a list of names and dates are not). If I need to memorize a chart or set of data I don’t get conceptual links from, I don’t really have a long-term solution. In school, I would design a compression system to convert the information into a sentence, reread the sentence over and over right before the test, and write it down as the test started. Then I’d (hopefully) remember my decompression, and manually draw out the info I need.

I was always quick to take pride in my mental abilities, so when I realized that I was extremely bad at memorization, I tried to learn to train it. And what I found was... advice on memory palaces, a technique for mapping specific memories to specific parts of an imaginary landscape. There were a lot of variations on this, but everything I read basically boiled down to “Step 1. Unfold your wings. Step 2. Practice flapping until you’ve built up enough muscle to fly”; the basic ability required to use the technique was something that it is literally impossible for my brain to do.

And, weirdly enough, this still wasn’t enough evidence to make me figure it out. I got angry and frustrated with advice like this, and eventually quit bitterly, concluding that it was snake oil stuff, or memorization couldn’t really be taught meaningfully, but there were people who were very good at it and thought they could teach it. I gave up on improving and (for the most part) avoided classes and situations where that kind of memorization would be a necessary skill. It took me reading about the original experiment to even consider that I might have it, and over two year’s worth of idle thoughts, research, and conversations with ordinary people about their sensory recall for me to really start to understand just how different (and... diminished) my experiences are.

Aphantasia impacts my life in several ways, almost all of them negatively. I can’t conjure up stimuli to stave off boredom, or crowd out intrusive thoughts. I can’t listen to music in my head (though i can hum or sing it subvocally). I can’t compare 2 images without seeing them side by side. It takes me a lot of exposure to learn enough about a face to describe it, or tell it apart from a similar one. I won’t remember licence plates, too many different passwords, or the birthdays and ages of the people I care about. I get lost very easily, and can’t remember directions well, or make adjustments that deviate meaningfully from the path. Without GPS, I will frequently take a route that is 5 or 10 minutes longer if the alternative is something less familiar or easier to miss turns on.

Gaming is an important part of my life, and Aphantasia does not spare me there, either. It’s easy for me to get hopelessly lost in any game without a good map or obvious landmarks/anchors; I get turned around and spend a lot of time backtracking. Being attacked by something I’m not looking at is terrifying; while I do have object permanence, I can’t visualize my surroundings or keep track of positions that I can’t see. This experience is awful enough that I will almost never play games that regularly cause it. (Overwatch and other pvp shooters, but also many types of single player horror games). Being unable to recall images also poses problems in myst style adventure or puzzle games, although screenshots are a good way to cheat at this.

To be fair to Aphantasia, there are times that being unable to recall stimulus is useful. I am extremely visually squeamish on several axes (gore, blood, disfigured people, distorted / warped visuals of people), and this would be a much bigger problem if I could recall that kind of image. Similarly, I can’t get songs stuck in my head; until a few days ago, I hadn’t really understood what it meant to have a song stuck in your head. Idle thoughts often remind me of a note progression that i then hum out or think about, but this never really bothered me that much, and I had been lowkey confused about how much it appeared to bother other people, until I learned it was a completely different experience for them. And lastly, the details of my nightmares quickly fade, which limits how upsetting they can be.

But I won’t end on that note, because it would feel like lying. I hate Aphantasia. I hate that my brain is so broken. I hate that I can’t do these things that are so basic for so many people. I hate that I’ll never be able to develop these skills or experience these things. but more than anything, i hate being trapped in my head nothing but my thoughts; i hate that all that it is to be me is a fragile flow of words on a backdrop of terrifying emptiness, of darkness and silence.

#effortpost #aphantasia #original acid dream do not steal #neurodiversity #typical mind fallacy #longpost #sorry this isn't like great #but it was really hard to write and something that matters a lot to me #i hope it's interesting enough to be worth the read #and sorry about the negativity especially at the end #but this is not a part of me i will celebrate #not even ironically like ADHD #because there's no cure #it's just something i can't do that i wish i could

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nebris · 6 years

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(Why) The Future is a Choice Between Two Socialisms

Why Capitalism’s Collapse Feels Weirdly a Lot Like Communism’s

Here’s a funny observation. Soviet style communism was always marked by chronic, predictable shortages. Especially for luxuries. The line for jeans, sweaters, boomboxes, and TVs, which stretched around the block, always leaving people empty-handed — while decadent Westerners simply trundled down to the store and bought them by the truckload.

But capitalism is collapsing now in a weirdly similar way. It’s marked by chronic, persistent shortages for just the opposite. Not for luxuries — but for life’s basic necessities. Medicine, hospitals, education, good schools, income, decent media, a home to live, income, jobs. Even potable drinking water (see: Flint) and decent food. In America, for example — there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to get these things, because they’re always in short supply. In fact, life seems to be designed precisely so that some people must always be at threat of going without them. How ironic, when you think about it, no — capitalism and communism both failing, in mirror images of each other? Why is that? And what does it mean?

It suggests to me that the future is a choice between two socialisms. Or it won’t be much of a future at all. The good kind of socialism — and the bad kind. And that’s because capitalism has proven to be a ruinous failure as the sole (or highest) organizing principle of a society — which is what it’s been for the last thirty years or so now. I’ll make my case — and you judge if it carries any water.

Unless you believe in cosmic coincidences, the reason that ultranationalist movements have popped up, seemingly overnight, is straightforward: economies are stagnant and so people’s lives aren’t improving, . But what does that really mean? It means life has become governed by artificial scarcity. Middle and working classes are on the brink — because capitalism makes things artificially scarce, so that it can maximize profits. What things? Healthcare. Affordable education. A mortgage an average person can pay off in a lifetime. Decent jobs themselves. For young people, marriage, having kids, and homes of their own. When insulin costs thousands, though we all know it can and should cost pennies — that’s artificial scarcity.

And yet those are the lives the middle and working classes live now — everything is artificially, not really scarce. Societies throw out tons of food. Newly built homes go to waste — while young people live with their parents. Billionaires shoot off space rockets, while young diabetics die without insulin. Society can easily afford it but it’s forbidden, under the terms of neoliberal capitalism, to allow decent lives for everyone because then profits would stop growing and “growth” might come to a halt. Someone must suffer — and suffer badly. That is how you get to the weird paradox of a “growing” economy in which life expectancy, income, trust, meaning, and happiness are all falling. There isn’t enough to go around — but keeping things at just that razor’s edge of artificial scarcity is the only way now capitalism can raise its profit margins.

Hence, for large chunks of the middle and working class, their lives are worse in many ways than a few decades ago. Unless you believe that a bigger TV is a substitute for a stable job, a raise, savings, a mortgage you can pay off, healthcare you can afford, and stability that you can depend on. The rich have grown astronomically richer — but life below the line of being super rich is something between precarious and implosive, and that is because artificial scarcity keeps the basics of a decent life just out of reach, endlessly. That’s not a bug — it’s a feature of predatory capitalism. And that is why the future is a choice between of two kinds of socialism.

(If you understand that above, then you will also see that capitalism — at least in its current incarnation, something like monopolistic, financialized, mega capitalism — has failed precisely because it is making a tiny number of people ultra rich, but only at the expense of the middle class and working class, for whom artificial scarcity is used as both a carrot and a stick. Such an economy “grows” by generating more profits — but only through maximizing artificial scarcities for things like insulin, hospitals, and decent jobs which makes life itself implode. While that bargain surely works for elites and the rich, it is ruinous for society as a whole, because no one sensible will consent to it for very long — turning instead to fascists, authoritarians, and extremists.)

So capitalism the way we practice it ends in implosive stagnation. Artificial scarcities eating aaway at life: chronic and persistent shortages, of all the basics of a decent life. Yet these ongoing shortages are ever-present, things which never get “fixed” — because they are exactly what capitalism must maximize on one side, to maximize profits on the other.

And that’s why socialism is the future now. But not all socialisms are created equal. Think of opposite poles of a spectrum. On one side, lies social democracy. On the other, lies national socialism. Which of these should we desire? Which is good, and why?

Let’s start with national socialism. What is it, really? American thinkers will dispute it even really exists — but they are not known for thinking well. National socialism is very as a form of socialism. It is simply something like “socialism for the true people” or a little more accurately, “only those with pure blood, from pure soil, deserve to share in the fruits of society’s labours.”

Think of the “good German.” He was very much a beneficiary of national socialism. He was provided a stable job, a regular income, savings, a home, healthcare, safety, security, the ability to take care of his family and children — all for the first time, really, in decades. But there was a price. Maybe his day job was a lawyer — drafting laws to take homes from Jews. Whom did those homes go to? Well, loyal Party members, of course. Maybe he was a Gestapot officer, making sure Jews wore yellow stars. He was rewarded with money to buy things, a home, healthcare, a decent life — but only if he took all that away from the wrong people, too. Do you see the mirror image, which is the problem, yet?

The good German was playing a zero-sum game. I can have a decent life, finally — but only if I take away yours. The “work” that the good German was doing was really the work of repression. Of subjugating Jews, gays, and immigrants. Of dismantling the equality, freedom, and democracy. Of perverting the rule of law, and using it as a weapon to seize people’s belongings and money and savings and possesions and homes — which then belonged to the good German. That was what the new “jobs” in Nazi Germany really were. A zero sum game of taking life away from some, to give it back to others.

That is national socialism: one tribe decides to take all that belongs to a society, and distribute it amongst itself. Perhaps that is the answer to the “mystery” of why the good German turned a blind eye. The cost of receiving the basics of a good life from the Party was that he did the very work of seizing those basics from another, a lesser human being, in the Party’s eyes.

(How else is the problem of stagnation to be solved? Do you see the link here? That is the crucial thing, and if you understand it, so you also understand the future. A society can solve stagnation — shortages of basic goods — in only two ways. The first is to dispossess some of its own people — and then give those things, that medicine, that money, those homes, to others. But who will be dispossessed, and who will possess? The impure — and the pure. Hence, national socialism is structured along lines of racial supremacy. But it is at root a way to solve the problem of stagnation, by taking from those who don’t belong, and giving that to those who do. In that way, an illusory kind of “growth,” a sense of stability, purpose, meaning, belonging, and prosperity, are produced. But the price is that such a society will never be one that is free, democratic, equal, or fair. National socialism requires people to do the work of subjugating and repressing each other — that is its price. As a zero-sum game, that becomes a negative-sum game, it can’t take societies anywhere)

Don’t we already see just that happening in America? What is ICE, really? What are all these weird new government agencies, whose sole job appears to be to repress and subjugate and harm those who are “impure,” who don’t belong, who aren’t part of the right tribe? They are effectively welfare programs for the pure, aren’t they? They are ways for a good member of the tribe, today’s good American, to get income, a job, healthcare, savings, a home — all the things that are in shortage today in America. But the price is that he must exclude, punish, and hurt little children. That is a nascent kind of national socialism — if you can do the job of dispossessing others, then the Party will reward you with all the things that you need to live a decent life. That’s a very real kind of socialism, too.

It should go without saying that national socialism is the bad choice. The one we shouldn’t want. Because it is self-destructive. It “solves” the problem of stagnation in a foolish, small, and ruinous way. When we take from some, to give what was theirs to ourselves, we have kicked off a vicious cycle that must — must — end in war, genocide, and our own sure ruin — because we cannot do that to the whole world.

Then there is social democracy. What’s the difference? In a word, everything. The fundamental way it solves the problem of stagnation is different. Not by taking money, jobs, homes, possessions, and savings, from some, and giving them to the pure, strong, and powerful. But by a society choosing to invest in itself. To build more hospitals, highways, roads, schools, universities, labs, studios, homes. To ensure everyone can have an education, an income, healthcare, insurance, safety nets. Do you see the difference? National socialism operates through expropriation — I take what was yours, and now it’s the Party’s, to reward the most cruel and vicious with. But social democracy operates through the exactly the opposite: investment — we all pool our hard-won savings, and invest them in things which benefit us all, because they are things we cannot have any other way. Even a billionaire can’t really set up a cutting-edge hospital, and keep it running for more than a few years — it takes a society to do that.

So for social democracy, “socialism” isn’t a way to merely “redistribute” things. It is a way to change what can be distribution at all — not just who gets what, but what can be had in the first place. It’s a way to expand the basic goods available in a society — to the point that they’re available to everyone. In that way, it’s a mechanism to solve the problem of predatory capitalism operating according to the law of artificial scarcity as a tool to skyrocket profits — which costs lives, at this point. Socialism is a way for a society to address shortage of basic, fundamental goods, like healthcare, education, transport, media, safety nets, retirement, pensions — which capitalism has made artificially scarce.

National socialism, on the other hand, is a way to solve predatory capitalism’s problem of artificial scarcity by making it impossible for some people, the impure, to have many things at all. Which things? Well, usually, it begins with jobs. Then it’s the right to buy thing, to go into stores. Then it’s homes. Then it’s savings. Then it’s the right to live in certain neighborhoods — ghettoes rise. Then it’s the right to live in cities — camps rise. Then, finally, it’s life itself.

Do you see the vicious spiral at work? National socialism solves the problem capitalism leaves society with, which is shortages of basic goods, in a harmful and destructive way — one must take more, from the impure, in more and more savage ways. Jobs, careers, incomes, savings, homes, neighborhoods, citizenship — life itself. That is what it takes to keep “growth” going under the terms of national socialism, because it has always been operating by taking from some, and giving it others, according to the Party’s judgment of who is purest.

But social democracy solves the problem capitalism leaves society with, shortages of basic goods, in a much more intelligent, civilized, and sustainable way. It invests, so that those shortages are turned into surpluses. Hospitals, highways, schools, universities — abundant enough for all to have access, at a relatively low price. And the “work” done is very different too. The good German, whether the lawyer, the police officer, or the accountant, was doing the work of harming others — but the social democrat, whether the doctor at the hospital, the professor at the university, or the builder of the bridge, is doing work that helps others genuinely realize themselves. And in that way, because it unlocks our higher possibilities, social democracy is the far, far better choice.

Now. This essay has been far too long already. You might say, at this point, “But all that’s obvious!!” Ah, my friend. If it were would the world be where it is today?

Umair July 2018

https://eand.co/why-the-future-is-a-choice-between-two-socialisms-fde3ca6383cc

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