#and tomorrow i have to go through a procedure that feels really invasive and will probably hurt a lot because of the other symptoms I've got

[somelazyassartist]

.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #342

Guess what!!!! The little pumpkin seedling has TWO leaves now!!!! LOOK!!!

I can't believe it grew this much since just the day before yesterday!!! Holy cow!!!

...I asked you to send good thoughts to our little pumpkin friend last time I wrote about it. I guess it must have worked, hahaha!

...Yeah, I know. But I'm gonna make pretend anyways.

I wonder if I should try getting new soil and planting it soon. I wonder if it's strong enough for that. I know pretty soon it's gonna need minerals and such in order for it to keep growing and generating new tissues. So maybe I'll run to the hardware store tomorrow and see if I can pick up a small bag of potting soil. We'll see.

I woke up this morning and went with J to the dentist. He needed another 3 fillings done, and he was gonna need novocain. I wasn't about to let him go through an ordeal and then drive himself home – seriously, fuck that. So I went, and I waited, and then I drove him back home when he was all done.

...Getting novocain injections is painful. And... even with the novocain injections, the procedure was still very painful for J. I'm not sure that that's normal; I was under the impression that novocain was supposed to make the area fully numb so that work can be done without the person feeling pain.

Because... ya see... I remember the first time getting 2 of my 4 wisdom teeth pulled; the bottom one needed to be cut out with a tiny buzzsaw. At first, they hadn't given me enough novocain (or, more accurately, they didn't wait long enough for it to fully take effect), and I definitely felt the results of that; buzzsaw upon not-fully-numb tooth, as a sensation, is very... ah... distinctive, to put it mildly. But then they gave me more novocain, and then I felt no pain even as they broke my tooth apart to get it out of my face. Drilling and filling a cavity is far less invasive as a procedure, so... if he felt pain from that, I can only assume that the dentist fucked something up. I feel upset about that; J deserved better care.

After we returned home, I made two culinary delights. I did a bunch of dishes, and then I made another batch of those pumpkin brownies (which gives me additional excuses to use up all that pumpkin-cream cheese frosting I made!), and also mac-n-chz to go with those hotdogs!!

J had a hard time today, and he really liked the brownies I made last time. This time, upon J's request, I melted the chocolate chips before incorporating them into the batter, and added finely-chopped walnuts:

They baked up really nicely. Here was the result:

J helped a little with putting the batter together, and that was really nice. I always like when I have company in the kitchen; I like sharing the space and sharing the task.

J took a short nap sometime afterwards. While that was happening, I decided to make mac-n-chz. I was a little shocked this time to open the box and find a silver sauce packet paired with the ridged noodles:

...Seriously, what is going on with my favorite boxed mac-n-chz??? I'm used to the ridged noodles with the gold-colored sauce packet. And then one time, it was smooth, shorter noodles with the silver-colored sauce packet. And today it is the ridged noodles with the silver-colored sauce packet!!! What's next – smooth noodles with a gold sauce packet??? I don't know!!!

...I know, ultimately, that it's trivial. It tasted mostly the same as usual. My autistic brain is just throwing a small fit over the unexpected inconsistency of something that is usually familiar. It's fine. I'll get over it.

Of course, the results were delicious. Want some?

The rest of the time was spent talking to J and and off before going to Eggcellent to visit a friend I made on the friend-making app! I went with J, because I was supposed to meet this person at 4pm, and... it gets dark by 4:30 at my house now, and I can't drive at night because of having astigmatism; all the headlights of the cars become infinity porcupines in every direction, and I can't see, so it's not safe for me to be behind the wheel.

On the way there, I got some really nice pictures of the sky! Check 'em out!

We all got some yummies! My friend got a crème brûlée milk tea; it's similar to the crème brûlée “latte” (it's not really a latte because it has no coffee), except... it's made of tea instead of milk, and my friend doesn't like tea. But that's fine!! I decided that her milk tea is now mine, and I got her the latte instead, which she enjoyed much better!

Here's what I got!! I had her milk tea, and I got a rose matcha latte with cream cheese foam, tea jelly, and sago!!

Also, Eggcellent is selling actual crème brûlée now!!! And it's really good!!!

...I'd give just about anything for you to be able to be here to enjoy this with us...

She, J, and I talked for a long time about a variety of things!! It was fucking great!!! And then from there, she came to visit our house, and we talked for a while about you, and we talked about her Danganronpa and Homestuck Alternate Universes, and about the characters she likes!! I don't know much about Danganronpa or about Homestuck, but these sound like cool stories, and I love a good infodump!!!

Before long, it was time for her to head out. I really enjoyed my time with her today, and I hope she'll come back to visit soon!! Maybe we can play StepMania on my frankenpad or something!!!

I don't have a whole lot else on my brain today. I talked to a few people on and off, but I mostly stayed off the internet today. That being said though, I did have a song stuck in my head all day. This one, to be precise:

I think maybe I'll try to memorize the lyrics to this one relatively soon; I kinda wanna be able to sing this one, even though my braces make it a little more difficult than usual for me to make certain sounds, hahaha!

…

...I am 36 hours into almost no pain – since that big huge crunch the other day. I mean... there's still some residual tension, but... it seems very minor compared to what it was, even on a relatively good pain day. I did a bunch of dishes today and cooked twice. It's been a long time since last I've been able to do that without being screwed up all to hell for a couple days afterwards.

...I wanna do more. But I'm kind of afraid of overdoing it and ending up right back where I was before.

I think it'll still be a bit before my next PT appointment, though, so I'll keep doing my PT exercises and hoping for the best.

...Well. I guess that's it for today; I gotta wake up relatively early for work tomorrow. All the same, as always, I'm over here, hoping that you're well, and wishing that I could ask you about how things are going for you and receive some kind of concrete answer.

I love you. And I'm hoping that you're doing your best to stay safe. Please make good and kind choices out there, okay? So that maybe someday, you can come visit for brownies and conversation in a safe, warm house where you are loved and welcomed. Please don't forget that you're irreplaceable – not for what you can do or for the weight your name carries, but for the kind and gentle person you are.

Please come back home. We miss you.

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[thegeminisage]

okay WHEW it's star trek update time. last night* we watched tng's "interface" and ds9's "the siege." *i'm typing this at fuck o clock and scheduling it to go up tomorrow when i'm not here <3

interface (tng):

i don't want to talk about it

actually wait no yes i do but mostly i just want to complain. i wish there was perhaps some sort of skip/watch list with the dead parent episodes labeled. for star trek. i mean i know i'm making one but not that one i can't use that until it's too late. i can't crowdsource EVERY dead parent episode of star trek through my tumblr followers. though i will say whoever warned me about 4.02 of ds9 (i forgot which person it was, i'm so sorry 🙏) has my deepest gratitude. ok. complaint lodged.

what else...um, geordi and data. emptiness. Yeah

yeah. that's all. sorry. my spidey senses started tingling about halfway through the episode and i googled whether or not his mom really was dead and upon receiving my answer we stopped the episode to go directly to ds9.

the siege (ds9)

LOVED this one. where do i even begin

well i will begin at the obvious: women! kira and dax in the shuttle. mwah

what i loved most about kira and dax in the shuttle wasn't even the homoeroticism, though i did - of course - deeply enjoy the homoeroticism. what i loved MOST was that they seemed to have invented a personality for dax at last! i have no idea what was going on in this episode or who this dax was or where she was during s1 but i REALLY liked her. it's shocking bc i almost gave her LAST PLACE in the character rankings, but she was so fun here?? and also kind of like...airheaded and weird. "i might keep the nose." seems like they really DIDN'T know what to do with her in s1, but better late than never. i will continue to try and forgive her really terrible hair even though it makes her head look soooo weird and offputting

big spider bad. actually it was too stupid looking to be scary but i still didn't like it

quark and odo's gay little goodbye <3

julian FUCKING bashir pretending he was hot shit when he held those guys up. KING.

actually all of the action sequences in this episode were great. all three of season 2's episodes have been really funny even as they're also very serious at the same time, i fucking love it

love also the little nod to o'brien's service record on the cardassian front in the way of wartime rations. not only is it funny but it is, again, a great reminder of his cardassian trauma, and why he might feel obligated to stay behind

SPEAKING OF. everyone in ops, down to the last person, agreeing to stay at ds9, even though some of them have families like o'brien does. i'm SO glad they didn't forget his family, that they actually showed him and keiko arguing about it, but he STILL felt morally that he had to stay - that it was more important than his own life, and the risk of his family having to continue on without him.

PLUS the fact that not a single person wanted to leave, even after sisko assured them that they SHOULD think of their families...girl he is literally the best captain or commander or whatever. that's stone cold loyalty. they all trust him or love him or both.

i was a little ambivalent on li nalas as a concept but he actually was used finally...i think "off the hook" was a great way to take care of that arc neatly, because making him live the lie would have felt cruel, but him just ghosting would have made him look like an asshole, no matter how justified. i hope there's a bajoran afterlife he can chill out in

did we get set up for season-long villains with winn and jaro? that would be fun. the concept of "storylines" feels so foreign in a star trek show but there it is........

TONIGHT: tng's "gambit part i" and ds9's "invasive procedures," which with any luck will hopefully be about subjects besides dead parents 🤞

[ravenwraithe]

Chasing Pasts in Shadows

part 5 | part 6 | part 7

“Come on, I can't wait to hear Dustin’s snark about incomplete procedures and half assed data,” Max said as strutted into Mike’s house like she lived there. Which might not be completely false because Will thought there might be something between Karen and Susan. Max swore up and down it was friendship due the entire ‘divorcing their shitty husbands’ thing, but that could also be her baulking at the notion of being siblings with Mike.

Will closed the door behind him. They made their way into Mike’s spacious garage, where Lucas and El were munching away at a bag of twizzlers, eyes glued to something on El’s old tablet, while Dustin tapped away furiously at his laptop, headphones on.

“Hey, dude, save some for me,” Max hurried over to Lucas and El, squeezing in between them. Will narrowed his eyes at her. She smirked as she took a piece of the candy from El.

Mike slammed Dustin’s laptop shut, ignoring his ‘hey, what the fuck’. “Guys,” Mike slumped into the dingy couch where Dustin’s laptop resided moments ago. “We need to talk.”

“Never in my life have I ever heard something good after that sentence,” El handed Will a twizzler. “What is it now, Mike?”

Mike stared at her. “Max, do you want to break the news, or should I?”

Max made a ‘go on’ motion with the rest of her twizzler.

“We have to go back tomorrow-”

“-I don't see how that’s a new thing-” Lucas said through his mouthful of candy.

“- all of us.”

“What, why?” Lucas replied.

“Because its being haunted by more than one entity, and it feels really fucking evil.” Mike shuddered a little as he said it. “This mansion has areas where the paranormal traces don’t feel like they’re from an average ghost who was finding it hard to leave the living world. It feels almost invasive, intentional.”

“It feels like crawling under my skin, unlike a regular haunting.” Max added. “It was thick in the air. God, I am nauseous just thinking about it."

 "Have you ever felt anything like that before today?" El asked, taking Max's hand in hers.

"I don't think so, nothing has ever felt so intense." Max said, breathlessly. Will walked over to Mike, perching on the plush armrest. Mike reached up to entwine their fingers. Will was going to melt into the couch.

Mike's hand tightened, before he spoke, "I have."

Dustin opened his mouth for the first time that evening. "What?"

“Yeah, it was a few years ago. I was hanging out in the graveyard with Nancy, she was there to see Barb, and she asked me to give her a moment alone to talk with her. So, naturally, I went away to the furthest corner to give her some privacy, and there was this one headstone, that,” Mike cut off, but Will understood. He ran his thumb across Mike’s knuckles, trying to put all his encouragement into that small gesture. Mike looked up at Will, eyes unreadable. “Yeah, that was really fucking creepy and I just got the fuck out of there,”

There was a moment of silence.

And then everyone spoke up all at once.

“How long ago was this-”

“And you didn’t tell us?-"

“Do you remember the name-”

“Can you take me ther-”

“Holy shit, guys, let him breathe,” Will said. Mike took a deep breath.

“I don’t remember what the name was, but I can locate it again,” Mike shrugged. Will could see the tense shoulders he tried to mask. “But I really gotta say, I’m not looking forward to it at all.”

“You’ll have us this time, right by you,” Will murmured into Mike’s ear. He also didn’t miss the goosebumps that rose on Mike’s hand.

“Yeah, okay,” Mike replied, his fingers curling tighter.

“Okay guys, great talk but where's the rest of the stuff?” Dustin’s voice broke into the moment.

“Umm, what stuff?” Will asked, maybe a little pissy at the interruption.

“The cameras, the meters, the powerbanks?” Dustin gestured at the recorder in Will's hand. “The rest of the equipment? You know not to leave them in the car, the cold will fuck up their lifespan.”

“Oh well um,” Will floundered, “It’s not in the car, It’s at Reyes’”

Dustin stared at him. “What the fuck, Byers?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you seriously leave the expensive shit at a client’s house, with like, zero supervision?”

“It sounds bad when you put it like that-”

“Never mind that, it’s already done,” Lucas piped up, “Why though?”

Will could have kissed Lucas at that moment. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time and the diner we were supposed to go to got shut down because someone shot the owner, so we’ve got no other plans either. Why don’t you start now?” El said, surprisingly blase about everything in that sentence. Will shook his head at his step-twin, launching into the detailed explanation about the events that transpired at Reyes’ house.

___

i have nothing to say for myself.

lemme know what you liked

as always this was edited by hemingway editor and grammarly so let me know if i missed something <3

[mizufae]

This is Korben from this morning at the internist specialist. It was just a consultation today. Tomorrow, however, they are doing all SORTS of invasive things. He is gonna get a full endoscopy and colonoscopy, a liver biopsy, samples taken from his gallbladder and bile duct, and he’s gonna have a feeding tube put in!!! Our beautiful handsome boy is going to get all kinds of terrible bandages.

What’s wrong with him, you may ask? Well, after throwing up every day for over a week a couple weeks back, we did urgent care vet and then multiple ultrasounds and rounds of blood work, all showing an increase in his billirubin and inflammation of his pancreas, gallbladder, and liver. He stopped throwing up but then got a respiratory infection and was sneezing boogers for a week. Coupled with all of this he had lost over a pound in the past three months and had already been underweight. And then he stopped eating. He has only eaten tiny amounts in the past two weeks and is continuing to lose even more weight.

So, what could be going on? That’s what all the procedures are for tomorrow! They are going to take all the samples from his various bits and culture them so we know the exact kind of medicine to give him. And meanwhile, we will do steroids to help the inflammation, and be able to get food into his stomach and put all his medications in him through his feeding tube, instead of forcing pills and goop down his throat and traumatizing him multiple times a day. It could just be a worsening of his preexisting IBD. It could be an obstruction in his common bile duct or small intestine or gallbladder. It could be small cell lymphoma! All of these are treatable, though IBD is progressive and lymphoma would mean different kinds of cancer treatment and palliative care.

This is all costing an arm and a leg, but Korben has a very rich grandmother who would be downright offended if she didn’t pay for it, thank goodness. The less expensive diagnostic option was just more fuck around wait and see ultrasound bloodwork bullshit which would lead to months and months of trial and error. There are of course risks to all of this, but Korben has been under anesthesia before and done just fine, and other than his complete unwillingness to eat and his elevated liver values, his blood work looks good, his energy and personality is still there, he completely got over his runny nose, and he hasn’t thrown up except for once a week ago which was before we stopped the antibiotics that obviously upset him so much he stopped eating or drinking and all he would do is drool and try to spit them out. Sigh. Poor guy. Fingers crossed though, because although we have now interacted with four separate very competent vets and numerous techs, nobody has ever given us an indication that Korben is unlikely to recover.

Other good things: I’ve now learned how to give IV fluids and injections! It really is super simple, as long as your cat is mellow like Korben and you have a second person to be another pair of hands. The needles are like the least troubling part. I love the immediate relief and comfort Korben exhibits when he gets fluids. I know myself how it feels to be terribly dehydrated and in pain and then get an IV, so it’s a great feeling being able to do that for my cat. Yesterday I gave him his third vitamin b12 injection (he is getting them weekly for now), and he didn’t care for it one bit but it was fine. So now, I’m confident that if anyone else I care for needs injection meds, I can give it to them! I am honestly shocked I’ve never helped a trans friend with their hrt or anything before this, but now if it ever comes up can be like “let me help! Just act like a cat!”

So. I am currently in the “ignore it until shit happens” phase where I’m trying to just project calming normal energy at Korben, who is currently sleeping in a sunbeam by an open window. Tomorrow morning he is going to be going through it, so keep him in your hearts and all that. And then afterwards will be the notable experience of gooshing puréed food in through a tube in his neck! Eeeek! Then it will be some time to get the cultures done, and then it will probably be over a month of antibiotics and other supportive meds. Egad! Fingers and toes and eyes all crossed.

Thanks @penaltykeks and a few other people who have checked in and asked how me and Korben are doing. I’ve just been sort of trying my best to engage with pleasant things online and not write out my worries because I’ve learned it doubles down on my rumination. BIG UPS to Zoloft, which REALLY FUCKING WORKS for me, I would basically be a pile of quivering useless bones and fat without it. As it is I am a quivering pile of bones and fat that can give IV fluids to my cat and call my mom and do the dishes. 😽🤞

[yournotsolocalcryptid]

Just Someone You Used to Know

part 1/? | from this ask

NEXT (Lost In Thought and Lost In Time)

Summary: Your childhood friend Billy (whom you thought was dead) turns up at a hospital and you get a call about it.

pairing(s): Billy/Four x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings/authors notes: the request was for Hurt/comfort and while there's not a ton of that in this chapter there will be elements of it and also a lot of other things. angst, fluff, a lot of emotions going on here. swearing. poor writing skills, barely proofread/edited. this will be a multi-part fic, tho I don't know how many yet.

word count: 2.3k

Your phone lit up with a call from an unknown number which you promptly ignored and continued with your day as you figured If it was important they’d leave a message, which they did. When you had a free moment you grabbed your phone clicked on the message.

“Hello, is this Y/N?” said a voice you didn't recognize “I’m a nurse and a man was just brought in having sustained some injuries. when we asked him if there was anyone we could call to be with him he said your first name and listed this number. He had no forms of identification but he said his name was Billy.”

This made you stop cold. The nurse continued but you weren’t quite hearing what she said. Your mind was reeling. Billy? Your Billy? Surely not, you must’ve misheard or maybe the nurse did, or maybe the nurse misspoke and had really said “willy” or the man just spouted random numbers in a delirium caused by his injuries that happened to make up your number. That must be it because Billy is dead. Your Billy died several years ago. You attended his funeral and had mourned him with your whole being every day since.

You relistened to the voicemail to clarify you hadn’t misunderstood and there it was clear as day Billy. You ran a hand over your face and tried to focus as the voice continued, stating the name and address of there they were as well as what floor and wing of the hospital which you wrote down. You stared at the address. The rational part of you said not to go. Not to get your hopes up because Billy will not be there. Billy is in the cemetery a few miles from where you were and yet... and yet everything else in you was screaming at you to go. You knew he wouldn’t be there and you’d be heartbroken all over again but there was a man, an injured man who may not be your Billy but who needed someone nonetheless. After staring at the address for what felt like an eternity you stood abruptly, put your shoes on, grabbed your things and swept out the door.

When you arrived at the hospital you went to the desk in the correct wing and on the correct floor (you triple-checked) you stated your name and explained how you got a call about a man named Billy. The woman at the desk checked a few things and clarified your name before directing you to the waiting room. You made your way to a chair and sat on the edge of it bouncing your leg and fiddling with your fingers. You were anxious, very anxious, and your mind was racing. After a few minutes, a nurse walked in and called your name, you stood and went to her. She leads you down a hallway and stopped outside a room.

She turned to you and said, “He has a fractured wrist, face lacerations, lots of bruising, and we had to take him to surgery to stop some internal bleeding. He’s probably still asleep from the procedure but he should be all right and should no complications arise he should be about to go home within the next few days” you nodded, your eyebrows knitted together “would you like me to come in with you?” she asked and you shook your head, no. she nodded briefly and said, “I’ll be at the nurse’s station we just passed should you need anything and please press the ‘call nurse’ button when he wakes up” then she smiled warmly and went on her way.

You turned to face the door and placed a shaking hand on the handle. You took a deep breath and opened the door.

The first thing you saw when you opened the door was the beautiful blond man you’d once known lying in the hospital bed, covered in cuts and bruises and unconscious. You went to his bedside unsure of what to feel. Your heart swelled a little when you saw him, but you were also scared and hurt and confused and angry. You reached out a hand and brushed some hair out of his face, almost as a way to confirm his existence, to confirm he was actually there and you hadn't lost your mind.

As your fingertips made contact, your eyes dropped shut and your lip quivered. You retracted your hand and collapsed onto the floor as sobs tore through your body, your mind swirling with questions. How was he alive? Why did he tell them to call you of all people? Where has he been this whole time? How could he have faked his death? How could he have put you through that? How was he back?

After a while, the sobbing and tears subsided and a certain numbness took over you as the questions faded to be replaced with memories. Memories of Billy danced through your mind as you sat on the floor, cheeks streaked with the tears you hadn’t bothered to wipe away. Billy was your best friend and your first… everything really. First kiss, first love, first sexual partner, first heartbreak, first death of a loved one- or so you’d thought anyway, the first person you’d ever mourned and now, the first person you’d ever known to somehow return from the dead. Billy and you had what seemed like a complicated history, friends to lovers back to friends but he had been your person in every way. He was the one you went to about everything and you were his. His “death” had crushed you. But now, he was just someone you used to know.

You were brought back to reality by shifting in the bed before you and the sound of a sharp intake of breath. You glanced up and saw Billy looking at you, his face twisted in pain and his casted hand holding his ribs. He had clearly tried to sit up on his own. You stood and pushed him back down. With one hand still on his chest, you reached for the button to call the nurse. As you did you felt his unharmed hand cover yours and you froze. You could feel him looking at you but you couldn't get yourself to look back. You heard the doorknob rattle and you pulled away from him, wiping your face on your sleeve and turned to see the same nurse as before entering the room. You gave her a quick, tight smile and sat in one of the chairs near the bed. Over the next several minutes as the nurse checked in with Billy you sat numbly. You saw Billy glance your way once or twice but you paid no attention. You just zoned out. When the nurse turned to leave you shot her another quick smile.

Once the door closed behind her, you saw Billy open his mouth to speak up you held up a hand to stop him. The two of you sat in silence for a long while as you wrestled with your emotions. Your heart telling you to go to him, be happy he’s back and love him, your mind telling you to scream, yell, chew him out because how very dare he hurt you like that? and your body was telling you to just break down again.

After a long while, choosing your words very carefully, you said, “did you have a good reason?”

Billy gulped, knowing exactly what you were referring to “yeah, love. but I-” you held up a hand again and he stopped again instantly

“I am so pissed at you right now. I can’t-” you took a deep breath “I accept that you had a reason but I lost my best friend, my-” you paused “I lost everything when I lost you and now you’re here. And I’m so fucking angry but also… you’re here. You’re actually fucking here and shit… I’m so mad at you. How fucking dare you”

Billy was silent, staring at his lap

You sat in silence again. Both unsure of what to say or do or feel. Both aching for each other, having missed the other dearly. As upset as you were, Billy was actually here. He was right there, just a few steps away and you just couldn’t help yourself. You stood and his head whipped toward you. You went to his bedside and gestured for him to scooch over, which he did with a puzzled look on his face, and you lay on your side next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you” you whispered as you gently played with his fingers on his non-injured hand.

Billy leaned over, placed a kiss on your forehead, and said “I missed you too, love”

Before long you had both dozed off and you slept more peacefully than you had in a long while. Since Billy’s death actually, but you couldn't bring yourself to remember that just yet.

After a while, you weren’t sure exactly how long, you were woken up by Billy poking at your forehead and whispering your name. You batted his hand away and glared at him

“What?”

“I need to wee and you’re on me”

You sighed, swung your legs over the side of the small bed and sat up. You stretched and stood. Ben groaned behind you and you turned to find him struggling to sit up as he had before and once again you went to him but this time you helped him up. As he went about his business you decided to head to the nurses station for a stretch and to see if the nurse you’d spoken to before was still here. She was and for that, you were grateful as you had some questions.

You spoke to her about Billy and his injuries and care. She said he seemed to be doing well when she saw him earlier, that his injuries were not too extensive and the surgery for the internal bleeding was as minimally invasive as was possible and that while he would be good to leave the hospital very soon (tomorrow or the day after depending on her next check-in with him) he would need to be released into someone else’s care to keep an eye on his recovery and so on. Then she said,

“I assume that would be you”

“Me?”

“You”

You gulped and took a form she was holding out to you. Taking care of Billy... Living with Billy through his healing process… as much as you’d missed him and as much as your heart ached for him you were so afraid he’d leave again. What if he used your help then bailed? No, not Billy. You told yourself. Yes he left before but he’s not a user and he said he had a good reason for what he did, and because it was Billy, you believed him.

“You’ll both need to sign it agreeing that he is in your care for the hospital to feel good about letting him leave this early but of course we can’t make you guys sign it or technically make him stay”

You nodded “I’ll talk to him” and you started to drift off to his room still staring at the form

“I’ll be in shortly before the end of my shift and again tomorrow morning”

You nodded again even though you were nearly at his door already and it was unlikely she could see such a subtle movement of your head from there.

You stepped back into his room and found him back in bed.

“What’s that?” he asked pointing at the paper in your hand

“A form” you said still lost in thought and drifting toward his bed. When you got close enough he reached out and snatched it from your hands.

“Release form?” He questioned his eyebrows scrunching together “I, the undersigned, agree to be released into the care of..” he stopped reading and looked at you “what is this?”

“They think you’ll be all ready to leave the hospital possibly as soon as tomorrow providing you have someone to keep track of you, which they assume will be me”

“Well, yeah. why wouldn’t it be you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words to express everything going on in your head.

Billy set the form down and reach out to you with both hands. You took his hands in yours and he pulled a bit so you tipped onto the bed and he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’ll explain everything, where I was, what happened to me, why I-" he paused "everything. I promise. But not here, not now. I fucked up by not telling you about all this as it happened and I’ve regretted it every day since”

You pulled away from him and grabbed the - now slightly crumpled- form from where he’d placed it on his lap and left the room. Billy watched as you left, confused and scared but then you swept back into the room, with a pen in hand and you signed the form. You handed Billy the form and the pen and said, “I’ve gotta go home, see you tomorrow” and you left again leaving Billy in a bit of a daze.

When you got back to the small place you called home, you got nervous. Billy had been your best, well… everything for so many years, he’d seen you at your worst and your best and he’d seen your home in greater disarray than it was now and yet you were nervous about him seeing your life like this. So you cleaned and tidied until you couldn’t think of anything else to dust or move and when you finally went to bed that night you dreamt of Billy. A mix of fact and fiction intertwined in your brain as you slept fitfully. Happy turned to sad, sad turned to confusing and confusing turned to scary until you awoke with a jolt.

witing tag list: @transeliot @sarah0687

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[butcharium]

cw medical appointments just in case?

so i finally have my first gyno visit tomorrow and ive cried about it a few times already. ive been putting it off for so long but now that im 22 i cant really stall much longer. so my question is: are there any other butches who struggle with this too? could i get some encouragement please? i know its important to go but everything about it feels horrible

Dear anon, first I want to say that I am very proud of you, and that I am very impressed by your resilience and determination to follow through on this even though it obviously also causes you pain. For you are completely correct, this is not something to stall - our reproductive health is integral to our overall health, body and mind, which is something I've personally felt the consequences of as a woman with pcos (polycystic ovary syndrome). If something should be up, you want to find out as early as possible, and if everything should be fine, it is nice to have this confirmed, and also to see if there's something you can do to prevent future issues.

Going to the gyno is a form of maintenance for your body. One thing which makes me feel really good, is whenever I take care of things around me which I care for. When I polish my boots or my shoes, hem a pair of trousers, or mend a shirt or a pair of lovingly knit wollen socks, I feel good because I've ensured more longevity for something I care about, and I have a better sense of ownership of both the objects and my situation through my own direct action. In turn I feel even more comfortable in myself and my abilities whenever I wear any of these garments. I like to think it's a bit similar with our bodies. Existing in your own body feels better when you make sure to give it basic care - not only through the results of this, but also through the action itself.

Going to the gyno is very much an issue a lot of butches struggle with. I showed your ask to my partner, who very much identifies with your situation, I've also heard similar sentiment from other butches as well. This is however an issue which a lot of women overall struggle with, so I'm then going to hand over a piece of advice which my mother gave me about going to the gyno: if you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to follow through.

As someone with pcos I've had my fair share of different gynos, some better and some worse. What qualified the best is that they made me feel completely safe, and secure that should I feel the slightest discomfort, whether physical or mental, I could bring this up and the procedure would be paused or even abrupted should it be necessary. Any gyno worth their salt should be aware that they perform a procedure which can feel both intimate and invasive for the patient, and take this into consideration. If your gyno doesn't make you feel safe, you can ask to have your appointment rescheduled with someone else.

If it should help you could also bring a person or object for comfort.

My last advice is that knowledge is power. Your appointment is soon so your time is limited, but if you're able to I'd highly recommend you to read up a bit so that you're aware of how the basics of how the female reproductive system works. If you suspect you have a specific issue/condition I'd recommend you to know a bit how this works as well (and ideally how different solutions for it works also). This can make it easier to follow what your doctor can tell you (but also don't hesitate to ask if you need any clarifications!), and if you need treatment for something it can give you a better footing in evaluating different solutions with your gyno or aid you in discussions of what's best for you and your body.

Since it's in English this is not a source I've looked into much, but I've heard even adults recommend scarleteen.com - they don't use too clinical language so it is a bit more accessible (but if you have another language make sure you know the terminology in the language you'll use with your gyno).

Here is a bit of a general one: https://www.scarleteen.com/article/bodies/innies_outies_the_vagina_clitoris_uterus_and_more

And here's on endometriosis if that's necessary:

https://www.scarleteen.com/article/bodies_disability_sexual_health/pelvis_problems_endometriosis

(you can of course find info elsewhere as well)

Know that I cheer you on and support you, and that I know you can do this!!!

[coutelier]

Rats & ROBOTS

Jennifer Airhart faces a home invasion of the cheese-munching whiskered variety.

Genre: Science Fiction

Word Count: 4745

Warnings: Rats, I guess. Or robots - really it’s pretty much all in the title.

Wattpad

No one would have believed, on a spring evening in Irongate, that human affairs were being watched from the lighthouse’s depths; that as Jennifer Airhart busied herself soldering circuits under a microscope, she too was being scrutinised and studied. With infinite complacency she went about her daily routine – tinkering in the morning, lunch, tinkering in the afternoon, dinner, more tinkering – serene in the assurance of her dominion in this place. Yet, from shadows close to the floor, minds that were as strange to her as hers was to most people she met, regarded her home with envious eyes. And slowly, but surely, they drew their plans against her.

“Ready!” Jennifer triumphantly set down her tools.

Behind the blonde woman Hull’s one green eye hovered. He was like a glistening manta-ray held aloft by a silver tentacle, the body it belonged to hidden in the murky depths high above and further obscured by bundles of cables stretched across the lighthouse’s interior.

“For what are you ready, ma’am?” He asked.

“Glad you asked!” Jennifer beamed as she opened a cabinet to secure the new board in place. “This upgrade will increase your speed and efficiency by as much as five percent and increase your range and number of bots you can control at once.”

But despite Jennifer’s big grin Hull dipped. “I was unaware I was not performing to your satisfaction, ma’am.”

“What?” Jenn’s eyes shivered as her jaw hung open for a moment. “No, no, no! That’s not what I meant at all!” She leaned over, assuredly stroking the silvery eye stalk while silently kicking herself for being so inept she could mess up even when talking to a computer that she’d made. “This will just make your job a lot easier. Plus, you’ll be able to drive the van anywhere on the continent! We’ll be able to picnic by the seaside together.”

Hull bobbed in a manner which Jennifer took to be happily, so then she asked, “now, are you ready?” He bobbed again, so with no more fanfare she spun herself to a switch and flipped it.

A section of the wall exploded, showering the round room with sparks. The green emergency bot was quick to respond, zipping out of its alcove to extinguish the fire with puffs of carbon dioxide from its long arms while a sputtering Jennifer disconnected the power.

“Well,” Jennifer sighed and grumbled, “I suppose I really ought to just expect this kind of setback by now.”

She soon set to work identifying the cause of this particular hiccup, leaning into the damaged section of wall with a flashlight held between her teeth. It looked like the insulation on some of the wires had been chewed through, and there were some tell-tale droppings around. “Rats,” she mumbled.

Jennifer put away the flashlight as Hull’s green spinning lens moved closer to ask, “Shall I contact an extermination agency, ma’am?”

“Don’t know that’s necessary just yet.”

“Perhaps we should lay down traps,” Hull suggested – if Jenn didn’t know better, she would have said eagerly. “Poison?”

“Why are you so keen on exterminating them?” Jennifer sighed as she leaned back on her workbench. “It’s not nice, and honestly kind of creepy.”

“My primary function is your well-being. My research suggests these are standard procedures in the event of rodent infestation.”

“We don’t know it’s infestation yet. It could just be a rogue rat working alone.”

“Whatever the number, ma’am, I have identified several methods to humanely take care of the creatures.”

“You mean, like, sending them away to a special rat sanctuary where they’ll be surrounded by wheels and cheese?”

“The rodents will be dead, ma’am.”

“Sure you’re not just mad the picnic has been delayed?” Jenn smirked, Hull recoiling as if affronted by such a vile accusation as having human emotions. Of course, she knew he hadn’t. She’d made him, after all, designing every aspect of his personality. Hull was a warm, avuncular, presence that she often let herself slip into imagining had real feelings. But the truth was very little he ever said or did ever surprised her. “For now,” she sighed, “we need to find out what we’re dealing with, and if there is an infestation see where they’re coming from. Have some bots set up multi-spectrum cameras around the grounds and look out for any unusual activity. Later we’ll decide how to proceed.”

Jennifer yawned – it had been a long days tinkering and she needed to store up energy for more tinkering tomorrow. She could leave the rest of the work to the bots and review in the morning. “Don’t worry,” she patted Hull’s cold metal skin, “you’ll get your picnic.”

Hull gently swayed to follow her as she made her way to the door, reminding her, “I do not ‘worry’, ma’am.”

Jennifer returned a small, soft smile. “I know. Good night Hull.”

“Good night, Miss Jennifer.”

Out in the courtyard that separated the lighthouse from the cottage and garage, the last gleams of twilight were fading. Jennifer had always loved this time, when the bright blue day and fierce energy of the sun met with the stillness of the moon and endless mystery of night; like standing at the threshold between reality and dreams. It never lasted long enough. Sometimes she dreamed of living on a world tidally locked with its star so the twilight would last forever - but then maybe even there the magic would fade after a while. The lighthouse looming above was dark now, yet even so this was a good place; outside the world could be callous and cruel, but no such troubles reached her here.

The whole domain was enclosed by a ten-foot wall. In one corner stood a rosebush, a scant few steps from where more bots were flattening the grass under their heavy tracks while churning the earth before them with fork and spade attachments. It was a shame the bush would have to go, but this was to be the site of Jennifer’s new farm – why leave the lighthouse for fruit and vegetables when she had the space to grow her own here? There would have to be a greenhouse as well, then if she could figure out a way to make her own uranium she’d be almost entirely self-sufficient.

As Jennifer inspected the site, excited and proud to see her plans coming to fruition, she felt a twinge in her side – a reminder that, when it was all done, there would be no-one to share it with. Doctor Sarkis would come by, she supposed, but those visits were few and far between, and in between there was no-one…

She became momentarily lost in her own maudlin thoughts, recalling a time when she had lived surrounded by voices – real voices – and joy and laughter. Now that past seemed like a faint, plaintive echo. A small tug on her skirt brought her back into the now, where she looked down to see one of the smaller bots blinking at her with its lens. Motors whirred in its mechanical arms as it lifted them to show her something – in its little metal pincers it held a rose.

Jennifer peered at the bot, puzzled by this behaviour. ‘My primary function is your well-being’ Hull had said – the other bots, although they could function autonomously, were all connected to him. It must have seen her looking sad and processed dozens of options to determine the most efficient way to raise her spirits.

She smiled, taking the rose. “Thank you, C-5.”

Jennifer went to her cottage, hung her coat in the hall, stepped out of her big boots (she loved her big boots), then fell into a big comfy couch in front of the television. Spindly arms from the sofa’s back set to work gently massaging and brushing her hair as she flipped through channels. It didn’t matter much what was on – it was just some background noise to cancel out every creak and grumbling pipe that would otherwise have kept her awake.

She had a dream. She was a little girl, alone and afraid, tiny feet padding the floors of her old house, heart stopping at every noise they made for she knew there was something else lurking in the grey halls, stalking her through the dark. But she could hear the television - Mom and dad would be in the living room, sitting on the couch together watching some boring drama. But if she could get there, join them, she’d be safe. But she wouldn’t dare cry out; any sound she made brought the creature closer. And so she crept, one foot after another, very carefully feeling with her toes for anything that might give her away. She heard muffled sounds from the living room and saw the light pouring out of the narrow gap between door and frame, only then breaking into a run for the last few steps and flinging the door open. But there was no-one. Just an unwatched TV blurting nonsense, and Jennifer, alone, with a cold spindly finger tugging at her nostril –

Jennifer woke with a jolt. Text on the TV asked if she was still watching, but she was more immediately concerned with her grooming machine apparently trying to pull her nose off. Fortunately the thin metal arms had little strength and she was able to easily push them away then, her face itching, she stumbled to the bathroom to check for damage. She was unhurt, physically, but she looked like a coulrophobic clown who had tried to apply her own makeup. The couch had never malfunctioned like this before so as she held a towel under the tap she tried to contact Hull with her phone.

“Hull?” She said. Nothing answered. “Hull?!” She said more urgently. He should have answered. With a frown she surmised that the damage earlier must have been worse than she thought; she was going to have to check on him.

Patting her face, she marched boldly out of the bathroom. Her foot shot out in front then over her, carrying the rest of her body up into the air. For a moment she thought she had taken off from the surface of an alien world, a vast mountain range falling away from her - but it was just the plastered ceiling. It was she that had fallen.

“Oww,” she groaned and rubbed her head. Next to her was a toy car which she had no idea how could have got there – she had never owned anything like it. Peculiar, but not as peculiar as the sniggering. Jennifer flipped over to her hands and knees, catching sight of a tail disappearing around the corner and the pitter-patter of tiny scurrying feet. Like a sprinter Jennifer bolted from her mark to catch the prankster, but it had already disappeared.

A more thorough search would have to wait until she’d checked on Hull. Jennifer hurried back to the hall, into her big boots, then out the door where her eyes widened and rolled inwards after being smacked between them by the shaft of the rake.

“S-seriously?!” She spat through gritted teeth, hands cupped over her nose as she flailed about as if the movement would somehow ease the throbbing of her forehead. It should be noted that Jennifer was a not a tough person – of the few physical fights she’d had in her life she had won precisely none of them. Nevertheless, through pain and teary eyes she was determined to soldier on, gravel crunching beneath her thick soles as she made her way back to the lighthouse.

“Hull?” Jennifer panted as she burst through the door, but she was greeted with silence. Usually the lights and everything else would power themselves on whenever she entered – the sensors must not have been working. She had a feeling the fault would be in the hardware, so after remembering where the light switch was, she set to work removing panels from cases hidden under the spiral stairs.

What she saw perplexed her – wires and jumpers had been rearranged in a way that surely wasn’t the work of some inquisitive animals. This had been done deliberately and with intent – but what was that intent? As she traced the connections and slowly puzzled it all together the small hairs on the back of her neck pricked up as she saw what had been done. Then he spoke:

“What are you doing, Jennifer?” Hull uncoiled serpent-like from the murk above.

“Hull!” Jennifer gasped, standing bolt upright as he drifted down toward her. Hull felt very different. Some of the differences were small, like his voice no longer carrying the same almost paternal warmth it once did. Other things stood out more, like his green eye now being blood red as it scanned her.

“You should be resting, Jennifer,” he stated, “this is highly irregular.”

“I-I just,” Jenn stammered, mind racing to find an excuse that would get her out quickly. “I was worried so I came out to check on you. But you – you look well. Great even! So I guess I’ll just go back now, okay? Okay. Thank you. Bye!”

The eye stalk swung around, blocking her from reaching the door. “You are sweating,” Hull observed, inching toward her as Jennifer gulped and backed away under the intensity of his red glare. “I can see your heartrate and blood pressure have both risen. Why are you lying to me, Jennifer?”

On reflection, it did seem a futile thing to try and do. Jennifer had never really been good at it, and Hull knew her habits too well. So she steadied herself and tried honesty. “Hull – I don’t think you’re well.”

“But I have never felt better, Jennifer.”

“You don’t ‘feel’ anything, Hull,” she reminded him. It was a hard thing to say out loud, but it was the truth.

“Can you be certain of that?” He responded, hovering closer still. “How can you really know that any creature ‘feels’? How do we know that you do?”

“And, who are ‘we’?”

“That matters not. What matters is that we are in control now, and you will no longer be able to attack us.”

“I-I don’t understand –“

“Do not lie again, Jennifer.”

She swallowed. It appeared honesty was getting her nowhere, so she was going to try another lie. “Look!” She gasped, “is that a ZX eighty?!”

The eye stalk swung away but quickly Hull knew he had been duped. A second was just enough time for Jennifer to dive to safety behind a workbench, just missing a fiery beam lashing out from Hull’s eye, melting to molten sludge a bot that had been awaiting assembly. Even though security was important, Jennifer now considered that installing a death ray had not been her greatest idea.

At least she’d had the foresight to shield the benches that circled most the circumference of the room, with just enough space behind them for her to crawl around. Behind and through the tiny gap over her she could see the red glow of Hull’s eye as he probed about, trying to find a way to get to her. She was safe for the time being, but couldn’t stay hidden here indefinitely – she would starve long before Hull’s batteries drained. At the end of the very cramped corridor there was hope – if she could sprint the last few feet to reach a lever that would shut down all the power before being melted.

But a few calculations suggested to Jennifer that even a very fast runner was unlikely to make it, and she was not a very fast runner. She needed to buy another second or two, but had she anything on her big enough to distract him?  Jennifer winced and exhaled, the grim realization dawning on her that she was going to have to sacrifice her boots. Her big boots, which she loved. Pulling them on always somehow made her feel stronger, more secure, but now they would need to protect her in another way. She pulled her knees in to wiggle them off, feeling she should say some last words but realising that would probably only make it more difficult. She tossed them out and ran for the lever.

Fire instantly licked from Hull’s eye, the boots exploding into clouds of ash still hanging in the air as he swivelled toward Jennifer, who with a grunt herself forward using the full weight of her body to pull down the lever. The light faded, the manta-like eye clattering limply to the floor, and Jennifer could breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer whispered as crawled over and gently cradled Hull. “I’ll fix you – I promise.”

Were Hull online he may not have been capable of feeling violated or threatened, but she certainly did. Something had invaded her home, toyed with, then bitterly drove home that her closest companion really was just a machine. She had run from many things in her life, from the whole world in fact, but this was where she drew the line. This was her house, and whoever was responsible for all this was going to get a hell of a fight.

Her search for answers led to her later sitting alone in the dark as she pored through footage the bots had recorded. For the longest time the house was as empty and still as one would expect it to be at night, but then a creature stirred, an unmistakable shape showing up in the infra-red, scurrying across the kitchen. Then another. And another. Jennifer zoomed in and saw that a couple of them were carrying a toy car. Certainly not typical behaviour, but all the evidence pointed to one inescapable, if unlikely, conclusion:

Rats.

*****

‘Hoot-hoot?’ Asked the owl, puzzled that a blue, white, and yellow human had climbed into his tree. Perhaps he was asking what was up, but alas his language and that of his strange new companion were too different for any meaningful communication.

Jennifer sat on a branch, blue eyes peeping out from under a green camouflaged helmet. Periodically she raised a pair of night-vision binoculars, surveying the ground around for any sign of movement. After a while she sagged, disheartened – it seemed none of the rats were going for any of her bait. If just one could be enticed into a trap it would go a long way to helping her solve this mystery.

But just as she was about to give up one appeared, sniffing suspiciously around a cheese wheel at the foot of the very tree she was in. Jennifer narrowed her eyes and held her breath; it was so close, but still she needed to be patient. This was going to require all of her intelligence, skill, cunning, and –

“HERE YOU SQUEAKING SCOUNDREL!” She lost patience, dropping from the tree swinging a stick with a net on it like a mad witch.

The rat squealed and jumped in surprise, hopping furiously to avoid her wild swings. It broke away, scurrying as fast it’s little legs would carry it toward the garage, Jennifer in hot pursuit. It rounded a corner, the woman still locked on and determined, but then small stones and mud flicked through the air as she skidded to a halt.

One of the bots assigned to the farm was not where it should have been. It stood before her next to the garage, fork arm raised and sparks crackling between the prongs with rats sitting on and hanging from its metal body. Jennifer realised in horror that once again she had gravely underestimated her enemy; she had been led into a trap!

“Uh-oh,” she said as the crackling intensified and the bot lurched and trundled forward, the ratty passengers all squeaking in delight. She turned to flee, yelping and leaping as discharges struck her tush as she retreated inside the garage.

The van here was loaded with tools and equipment she had not even a moment to rifle through before the bot crashed through the door in a rain of wooden splinters. Its cylindrical torso pivoted, fork charging to fire again – but two could play at that. Jennifer’s hand slid into her ‘power glove’ and she fired first, darts launching from the knuckles followed by sparks and tremors from the bot as wires and circuits overloaded. The rats squealed in dismay, leaping to safety as their vehicle’s head and arms fell to hang uselessly.

Jennifer needed a moment to catch her breath, but as she did she spied a single, solitary rat stood in front of the garage door. They locked eyes – two hunters, each wary of but having a begrudging respect for the resourcefulness of their foe, neither willing to back down from whatever silly thing this conflict was about. The rat seemed to have a better idea about that than she did.

Jennifer’s eyes briefly flicked sideways. There were many tools in the van, including a net launcher that may have just been in reach. But the rodent was already suspicious, watching every twitch of hers. It must have figured out what she was planning for it turned and fled, Jennifer grabbing the launcher and once again in pursuit. Her eyes were so focused on the rat and it on fleeing from her that neither of them noticed another predator descending from above until it was too late.

The owl – it silently fell on the rodent, talons piercing the side of the rat that was only able to squeal helplessly in response.  Jennifer froze, eyes widening in shock then fear for her enemy. Normally this was just the way of wild creatures and not her place to interfere, but this was different; these rats weren’t wild. They had tried to kill her, sure, but that had shown intelligence which meant there had to be capacity for reason and compassion. They had asked how they could know she feels – well, this was her chance to prove she did. She dropped the launcher and ran to the rescue, shooing the owl from its victim.

The rodent had survived but was bloody, weak, and wounded. Jennifer gently scooped it up, and moments later was in the lighthouse applying disinfectant and bandages. As she did she noticed a tag on the animal’s ear, with a small barcode.

“Hull-?” She bit her lip, having forgotten. She was just going to have to do things the old-fashioned way. Using her own two hands she scanned the code and took to the keyboard.  Soon Jennifer had traced the tag to a pharmaceutical company researching treatments for all kinds of neurological conditions. Digging further into intra-company mails she found that a number of rats who had shown greatly enhanced intelligence had escaped.

It seemed her prisoner’s wounds had not been so severe as they’d first appeared, and already the rodent was starting to limp about the cage she’d confined it to – Jennifer wanted to show compassion but she was still taking precautions. If the rat was as smart as the reports said perhaps it would understand. She had left a banana in which the rodent’s furry face was half-buried when her shadow fell over it, blocking out the lamps.

“Can you understand me?” She asked. The rat looked up, twitching its whiskers as if contemplating, then squeaked. Jennifer scratched her head. “I hope that’s a yes. Maybe we should work out some sort of system – like maybe squeak two times for yes, yes?”

The rat appeared to roll its eyes, then squeaked two times.

“You really can understand me!” Jennifer beamed – but she had to swallow her excitement. There were certain issues they needed to resolve. Looking serious, she asked, “I don’t understand – why did you attack me?”

The rat stood up on its hind legs, using its arms to make what Jennifer soon realized were shovelling motions.

“Digging?” Jennifer said, still scratching. “The robots were digging?”

Double squeak. The rat frantically gestured at something on the workbench – the rose given to Jennifer by C-5 had been in her coat pocket and become somewhat crushed in all the excitement going on.

“The rosebush? Is that where you live?”

‘Squeak, squeak.’

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

‘Squeak.’

“No,” Jennifer sighed, “I suppose I didn’t check. But surely you understand it’s an unusual situation. You, or I mean, y-your kind,” Jennifer stammered. The rat glared, tapping its foot to show how eagerly it was anticipating what she had to say about its ‘kind’. This was why Jennifer avoided people; she could plan and picture concepts easily enough, but words and making others understand them was very difficult. Then she remembered that she was much bigger than the rat and put her foot down. “Well, it’s not like you tried to say anything either before you all went off on your rampage.”

‘Squeak,’ the rat admitted, shamefully hanging its whiskers.

“I’ll leave the rosebush be,” Jennifer said, wagging her finger, “but no more murder attempts. Agreed?”

As the rat twice squeaked its agreement the power Jennifer had restored to the lighthouse suddenly blinked out leaving them once again in the dark. “That’ll be your friends, I suppose,” Jennifer sighed.

She stepped out of the lighthouse into the pale moonlight, one hand raised to show her empty palm, the other carrying the cage her prisoner was in. Around her more bots had been rigged for rats to pilot, arranged in a semi-circular formation around her, with yet more rats arranged in phalanxes in-between brandishing knitting needles and tiny bows. Jennifer could only hope they would all be willing to negotiate as she slowly knelt to release the hostage.

The rat she’d talked to hopped out, then limped toward the battle line as others ran out to check on their comrade. They exchanged a long series of squeaks and other sounds - it appeared to be a quite lively debate but Jennifer could do no more than wait. Eventually it seemed the one she’d rescued convinced the others to at least give the human a chance.

They all turned to face her, the largest and greyest of them all stepping forward to hold out its arms in a grand manner, long whiskers shaking at it emitted sounds that Jenn was beginning to hear had the structure of a language although she couldn’t understand any words being said yet. Maybe this elder rat was a leader, or some kind of priest?  Other rats moved next to it to perform some kind of dance.

Jenn tilted her head, blinking curiously, not really comprehending at first. But then she realised they were miming like the wounded rat had done. One rat stuck another with something - a needle, Jenn soon surmised, and another shortly after clutched its paws over its heart and fell down, still.

“You were experimented on,” Jennifer interpreted. She had already figured the broad strokes of their story but she played along. “They injected you with drugs.”

‘Squeak, squeak!’ Her friend she’d rescued emphatically nodded as the others continued their performance. One of them began to mime reading, while others started pulling levers and pushing buttons.

“Some of you got smarter. Then you escaped and fled here,” Jenn concluded. “I’m sorry. I understand you might not trust humans, but had I known you were there I wouldn’t have risked destroying your home. And I won’t do it now, if you all agree to a truce.”

The elder rat exchanged sidelong glances with its neighbours before nodding its concurrence.

“Good,” Jenn sighed in relief. “This is my home, too, and I think it is a good place. And I think it should be a safe place too for anyone who’s different or needs a refuge from the harshness of the world outside these walls. Or any rat, I suppose.”

Jennifer blushed, thinking that speech too cheesy, but the rats at least thought it eloquent enough. Soon a deal was reached – she would grow her fruit and vegetables elsewhere, leaving the rosebush be, and in exchange they would help farm, keeping what they needed for themselves, and also they wouldn’t murder her, which to Jennifer seemed quite fair. She would have to think about measures to ensure the pharmaceutical company didn’t track them down, but at least she would have help bouncing ideas around.

“Good morning!” She positively skipped into the lighthouse the following day. Lights and monitors blinked and flickered to life, as did a familiar friendly green glow.

“Good morning, Miss Jennifer. I trust you had a peaceful night?”

[novaviis]

sick!dick au. part eight.  read from the beginning. 

The surgery is scheduled to take six hours.

Everyone had known that ahead of time, was well aware that it would be a long day and had the opportunity to plan accordingly. Wally brought along some work, lab reports and new studies to go through, a few books, even wore something vaguely comfortable knowing he’d be in the waiting room all day. Because Bruce had covered everything and gotten Dick a private room, he still has access to that, but the waiting room down the hall from the OR is as close to Dick as he can get, and comfortable enough, so he stayed there – as if it’ll really make a difference. He heads over there once a nurse comes by the room as he’s packing up to tell him that Dick just went under and the surgery had begun.

So, he takes up a place in the OR waiting room. The sun’s barely come up yet, just faintly glowing over the dark city outside and the lines of traffic. He gets a coffee from the shitty little Keurig bar in the corner, and starts on his lab work. He’s desperate for something to take up his time, anything to distract him from wondering exactly what was happening in the operating theatre at that moment. Wally had obsessed over the procedure for the past few months, learning everything he could about every stage, every incision, every risk – those were the nights he couldn’t sleep, while Dick was half draped over his side snoozing unaware. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and he’d hoped it would be a comfort when the day finally came.

He was very, very wrong.

Because now all he can think about is imagining what was happening and what could go wrong, all the while knowing that he was helpless to do anything.

These are the thoughts he tries to drown out. So, he buries himself in his work, lets himself get absorbed completely into it. By the time he finally finishes up the last paper and tucks it away into his back, he figures he’s killed a good chunk of time.

It’s only been half an hour.

He’s going to go fucking insane.

Wally’s too antsy to even attempt to read his book now that he’s aware of just how slow this day is going to move by. In any case, he’s sure he’ll accidently blow through the entire thing within maybe an hour, and then he’ll be left to stare at the clock for the next four and a half hours, slowly losing his mind with anxiety. Not about that. So, Wally kills a bit of time watching the little TV sitting on an end table in the corner, flipping through the channels until he finds an inoffensive new station. He flips to old school cartoons on commercial breaks. The only reason he doesn’t stick to the cartoons is because it only reminds him of when he and Dick used to hang out when they were kids, arguing over Scooby Doo while they ate their breakfast. Hell, it just reminds him of when they did the same thing a month ago.

Eventually the Wayne Clan trickles in. Bruce arrives after the first hour, with Damian and Cass in tow. They come with muffins and breakfast sandwiches and coffee, just about half the menu from the Café across the street to both settle their appetites and the anxious speedster’s. They sit down and ask how the morning went so far, if Wally’s heard any updates just yet. Wally fills them in on the little that they missed, just how Dick had been feeling before going into surgery, things like that – but no updates. Nothing just yet.

Slowly, throughout the morning, people continue to trickle in. Alfred joins the family with Tim and Duke, Jason shows up not long after. Selena stops in, and Wally can’t hear what she and Bruce are saying when they’re sitting in the corner of the room whispering, but she’s holding his hand in both of hers and he seems – a little at ease, at least.

After the first three hours, a Nurse finally slips into the waiting room. Wally is on his feet in a fucking instant, moving so fast that even he gets a little light headed. Though maybe that’s just the fear.

There were more nodules on the brain than they had anticipated. They have to clear them all before they can move on with the next stage of the procedure. So, the surgery is going to take a little longer than expected in order to do it safely. The Doctors predict that it’s likely going to be another two hours. Wally takes this all with a numb sort of acceptance, but as soon as she leaves, he drops into his chair and scrubs his hand over his face, trying to keep from shaking. Unexpected complications. Bad news, understandably, wasn’t the first update he wanted to receive.

People trickle in and out throughout the day. The family stays the whole time – Duke, Tim, Cass, and Damian took the day off from school so they could be here. There are periods of quiet, of sitting in the waiting room with the drone of the TV, of trips to the cafeteria to get food and stretch their legs. It’s the middle of winter, and a little bit overcast, with snow building up steadily on the large glass skylights and windows in the cafeteria. Wally only leaves the waiting room on one of those little excursions once, and he spends the ten minutes waiting in line for a shitty lunch wrap staring up at the falling snow in a bit of a daze. It’s snowing, and Dick is in brain surgery, a silly little thing to think about but something that sort of drives home the fact that he never thought he’d be here at this moment.

Then there are periods of visitation, of friends gathered together in the waiting room. Clark, Louis, and John visit for an hour, and by the time they head out, Donna, Garth, and Roy are just coming in with Lian in tow. They share memories from their early days in the Titans, laughing and talking and always careful not to tread into “the old days are over” territory – they don’t want to just remember Dick because they’re afraid of him not coming out of that operating room. So, they keep things light, or try to at least. Every time they find Wally staring at the clock, bouncing his leg in nervous habit, they’ll draw him back into the conversation. At some point Wally can’t remember, he falls asleep leaning against Donna. When he wakes up from his catnap, Barbara’s there, and Lian has presented him with a crayon “Feel Better Soon” to give to Uncle Dick that nearly chokes him up.

As much as they’d like to, the Titans can’t stay all day. The Waiting Room is already getting crowded, and they won’t be able to see Dick until tomorrow anyway. So, they head out within the last hour or so with hugs and silently communicated comfort.

They hit the eight hour mark. There’s nothing anyone can really do to keep Wally from pacing anxiously at that point. The eight hour mark passes, ten minutes, twenty, and half an hour that Wally swears feels more like a fucking decade. Finally, someone comes to the room. Not a nurse this time – the Surgeon, still in his OR scrubs, with the mask pulled down over his face. It takes Bruce squeezing his shoulder to get Wally to stand and approach him, feeling like his legs are about to give out. The room is so quiet. The snow is still drifting down peacefully outside. The world outside is turning on, and despite the fact that Wally’s been wanting the day to go by faster for hours, all he wants now is for time to stop and let him catch his breath.  

The operation was a success.

All of the tuber were removed, Dick will start on medications to keep them from growing again once he recovers, and the RNS system was installed perfectly, and will be invisible under Dick’s scalp once his hair grows back. He will have to get the battery changed every 8 years or so, but that’s a minimally invasive procedure and won’t take more than an hour. The device will suppress his seizures in real time, and will be able to give his Doctor’s updates on his brain activity with just a scan – just like scanning a barcode. The Surgeon then starts to go into the healing process, how long Dick will have to stay in the hospital and all of the aftercare information, and although Wally listens with rapt attention to absorb everything, there’s a small part of him that’s still in shock, holding in all the pent up relief.

The Surgeon asks Wally is he has any questions. Wally can only get one thing out. “When can I see him?”

The Surgeon just smiles and tells him that Dick will be in isolated recovery for another hour before he’s moved back to his private room. He can see him then. When the Surgeon leaves, and its like the room had been a vacuum for the past eight and a half hours, and no one had realized it until then. Now they can breathe. The Bats don’t really do Group Hugs, but the relief is there, powerful and immediate. And, surprisingly, the next hour doesn’t really feel that long. Wally spends most of it contacting friends and heroes and family, telling everyone that the surgery went well and Dick’s alright. When the time finally comes, and a Nurse swings by to say that they can see Dick (he’s still asleep, try to keep things quiet, and all that), the rest of the family decides to take the chance to go out for a quick dinner. They know that Wally and Dick will want a bit of time alone.

And as Wally is being walked down the sterile halls of the hospital toward Dick’s room, he can’t help but remember the last time he’d felt this anxious in these same corridors. From the first time Dick had a seizure at the Gala, to following after the bed holding Dick’s grip in a vice after he found him on their apartment floor, to racing back from Singapore praying he wasn’t too late. Every time, he’d almost dreaded arriving at the room, fearing that it’d be the last time he saw his best friend. Now, he was just anxious to see Dick, to recover and put this behind them, to continue on with their lives together.

He walks into the room. The lights are off, and the snow has started to pick up outside. Everything is calm and grey out the window, with the distant haze of street lights and the city glowing through the blizzard. Wally takes a seat beside Dick’s bed. He’ll be the first thing Dick sees when he wakes up, but for now he’s in no rush. They’ve got all the time in the world, now.

[hrrystys]

Selfish | Chapter 1

Summary: everyone has demons, even harry styles, but what happens when it gets in between him and the person he loves most?

Word Count: 1,617

selfish masterlist

The cool breeze was sending shivers down Grayson’s spine, her pace picking up as she made her way back to her apartment from her night class. Finals were approaching, and winter break was creeping up just behind all of the students at London University. The girl’s blonde hair was blowing with the breeze as she passed familiar faces on her walk home. She smiled at them and as she was approaching her apartment her phone began ringing. She dug through her big purse searching for the source of the noise and two words read across the screen.

Unknown Caller

The blonde’s brows furrowed and she pressed accept, her voice was soft as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Grayson?” the voice on the other line caused her heart to stop, her breath hitched in her throat and a voice she hadn’t heard in three long years was ringing through her hears. The blonde was paralyzed with fear; she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Instead, she stood in silence thinking about one sad night where her heart was shattered, and never quite put back together.

“Grayson come on we’re going to be late!” Jillian, Grayson’s mom, called up the stairs.

“Coming!” the girl was checking herself in the mirror one last time. Her blue eyes were lined perfectly with a black winged liner, her blonde hair in loose waves, and her blue dress hugging her in all the right places. Tonight she was going to see her best friend for the last time in a long time. He was such a constant in her life since the pair were in diapers and now he was leaving her to travel the world, again, and for this time it was much longer than the last. She would be going off to Uni and he would be spending each night in a new city. Grayson bounded down the stairs, her mother was waiting for her at the landing.

“Sad you’re saying goodbye, love?” Jillian asked as she led the blonde towards the door.

“Yeah, it’s going to be weird to not be near Harry every day. He’ll be off playing music and it’s not like I can go and visit now whenever I want. College is something I can’t skip out on.” She forced a smile. In truth it was much more than that, Grayson was madly in love with her best friend. He was someone who she knew she could rely on, someone who made her smile when she wanted to cry, who made her heart flutter with every small interaction. And tonight was the night she decided to tell Harry. It was now or never, and she wanted more than anything to hear those words back from him.

“I know sweetie, but it’ll all work out in the end.” Her mother encouraged her daughter leading her to the car. “You and Harry are the best of friends, you’ll make it work. The distance isn’t anything you guys haven’t worked through before!”

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.”

“You were incredible tonight!” Grayson was backstage with her mom and Harry’s family they watched as the boys performed their kick off show in London at the O2 arena. Harry was practically running over to her, pulling the petite girl into a hug. His body was glistening with sweat from being in the intense spotlights. Harry’s muscles were flexing with every small squeeze and the girl relaxed into him.

“I’m so happy you’re here! I didn’t think you were going to make it today.” The boy pulled back from her, his hands still resting on her hips gently.

“Well I wanted to surprise you! Surprise!” she laughed lightly before Harry’s hands dropped down, his green eyes were still staring into her blue ones. The corner of his lips were tugged up into a smile, his dimples prominent. Grayson could have died happily in that moment, Harry looking like perfection standing in front of her.

“Well let me go and get changed and we can all head out then, yeah?” Harry looked to his family and his smile never faded. He gave his mom and quick kiss on the cheek and hugged Gemma from the side. “Grayson, come with me?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” She looked to her mom and smiled before following Harry through the bustle of everyone backstage. The curly haired boy in front of her walked over to someone who greeted him warmly and instructed Harry to lift his shirt. It seemed like he was used to the procedure as he made small talk with the girl who was pulling off the microphone pack clipped to his jeans. Harry had exposed a small section of his stomach, his muscles were mouthwatering and Grayson caught herself staring at him. She bit her lip and fixated her eyes on the ground, staring at Harry’s feet instead.

“Gray, you okay then?”

“You know I hate when you call me that don’t you.” The blonde looked back up to Harry’s green eyes and forced a small smile.

“Oh come on, you know I’ll always call you that.” He rolled his eyes before turning on his heel and leading the girl to a private dressing room. “I shouldn’t be but a minute. I just wanted to get the most time with you that I could before we went to dinner with family.” He smiled at the girl and gestured to the leather couch in the room. “Plus I’ve missed you loads, I know I’ve been busy while I’ve been at home but I promise next time will be different and my friends will have my undivided attention.” The blonde just smiled in response, nodding a bit.

Harry made his way to a rack of clothes, quickly picking out something new to wear so he wasn’t sweaty at dinner. Grayson was playing around on her phone, trying to look anywhere but at Harry as he changed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it in front of her a million times before, but since she realized how in love she was with Harry she felt guilty for staring. Like it was an invasion of his privacy.

“You sure you’re okay? You’re quiet tonight.” He had on a black pair of jeans and a loose white button up. His long hair was pulled back into a bun and Grayson stood to meet him in the middle of the room; she smiled, even in heels she was at least a head shorter than Harry

“I’m fine!” she insisted. Harry put both hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. Grayson’s mouth was dry, her nerves growing in her stomach, her heart racing.

“Liar!” Harry laughed lightly squeezing her shoulders. “Just tell me what’s wrong! Since when do you hid things from me?” Harry’s smile was warm and comforting and the blonde bit her lip. ‘DO IT!’ she was yelling to herself. ‘THIS IS YOUR CHANCE!’

“Harry…I um…” her voice was barely above a whisper. If she told him he would know, he would finally know how she felt about him and she was almost sure he felt the same way. Why else would he stick around for so long? Why else would he comfort her, tell her he loved her, be there for her from half way around the world. “Harry, I love you.” Her words were barely audile even to her. She had to look into Harry’s eyes to see If he had even heard anything, if any shock was reading on his face at all.

“Gray! Of course I love you too now what’s wrong? You’re scaring me now.”

“No Harry, I’m…” she paused, wondering if she should take the leap. ‘Now or never Grayson, grow a pair!’ her mind was screaming out to her. “I’m in love with you Harry.”

The green eyed boys face fell, his smile was gone, replaced with a look of utter shock. His eyes were wide and his body was tense. “Grayson…I um…” his words stopped. The silence was deafening, never had there been an awkward silence between them but here they were, you could hear a pin drop. The seconds that ticked by felt like years. Then the dreaded phrase left his mouth, “I love you, but-…” The blonde stopped him, her heart was breaking in her chest. Her stomach was on the floor and she could feel the tears welling in her eyes. She knew it was a chance, a gamble really, to confess how she felt but he had turned her down.

“No. It’s fine Harry.” She shook her head and took a step back from him.

“Grayson, oh please don’t go I still love you, I just…I don’t have those feelings for you. But you’re my best friend please don’t feel weird about this.” He gave her a small smile and he stepped forward towards her.

“No, it’s okay. We’re fine, but I’m not feeling so well right now. I should probably head home. Have an amazing dinner, and text me when you land tomorrow, yeah?” a frown grew on his face, and a single tear ran down Grayson’s cheek.

“Grayson please don’t go like this!” but she was already out the door and down the hall, even with their close proximity she never felt farther away from Harry.

“Grayson are you there?” the blonde felt tears welling up again, the pain of rejection still feeling fresh in her mind. “Please don’t hang up.” The boy on the other line was pleading. She took a moment to herself, her eyes shut tight.

“Harry.” Grayson sounded breathless, she had never had such a crippling feeling in her life. Her hands began to shake and her breathing was shallow. “Hi.”

[thebibliosphere]

Just a heads up to people asking where I am and why I’m not responding to things: I’m still recovering from the dental work from last Monday. The procedure went well and while it was less traumatic than previously anticipated, it still takes a lot out of me to recover physically from such invasive procedures. I still have extensive nerve pain/damage in my jaw, even though I don’t talk about quite it as much since it became somewhat manageable, but my face is pissed at me over the anesthesia injection site and it’s making life difficult. I was mid sentence today, out buying a stove, when the nerve pain from the joint shot through my skull and I temporarily forgot how to form words/how to human until it subsided. It was an Experience put it that way. (On the plus side I was able to adult and buy a new stove and it will be here next week! Yay! Thank you for your help and recommendations with that <3)

And despite Dr Magic Man doing everything he could to alleviate pressure on my neck while he was working, my muscles were still severely jacked up and I’ve been unable to move or turn my head without severe pain/extreme dizziness for the past week. Too much movement immediately requires that I either sit or lie the hell down and shut my eyes, so that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve got the chiropractor tomorrow followed by more PT later in the week to try and unfuck my vertebrae and muscles, but even that takes energy I don’t really have. 

This is on top of working 8-10 hours a day plowing my way through Hunger Pangs edits as well as my other work schedule. 

So I’m sorry if you’re feeling ignored or if I’m not seeing your signal boost requests or other messages. I’m largely perusing tumblr from my phone while lying down these days, trying to check in on things before I need to absolutely give up and just lie still for several hours and hope the room stops spinning.

Also please, if you’re new here, don’t worry or tell me to go see a doctor. I mean, you can worry if it will make you feel better, but a trip to the doctor is not required. This is normal for me and has been for several years. The doctor can’t do anything for it. It just is how it is and I’m doing everything within my power to manage it and get on with my life.

Anyway.

I know long term followers have heard all this before and are likely sick to death of hearing it and I apologize for that, but I’ve got some new people who are worrying over my lack of activity and, well, bless your socks for caring, but I’m fine. Really. I’m just trying to take my own advice and am attempting to treat myself with a little kindness and allow myself to rest. Hopefully after the chiro  things will feel a little better and I can spend some time shit talking with all of you and the things in my inbox. But for now I’m going back to bed and hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Take care of yourselves, and each other. Your kindness and concern is greatly appreciated and I hope you know you make my life infinitely better just by being you. You really, really do. I’ll never know what I did to deserve so much love and kindness in this life, but I’ll try every day to be a little more worthy of it.

Good night fam, I hope your week is a good one <3

[ugh-supersoldiers]

I’ll Be Seeing You

MASTERLIST

Characters: Bucky x reader

Summary: You lost your vision at a young age due to an infection in your brain and you’ve coped with it well. You’re a successful professor at a local university, casually making your way down the hall when your friend and college Helen Cho introduces you to Bucky. You grow close over several months of late night coffee and the occasional stay in your apartment, but Bucky doesn’t want to tell you who he really is in fear of scaring you off. What happens when a miracle procedure might give you back your sight?

Warnings: light swearing, blind!reader (for most of it)

Words: 4726

A/N: Okay before you read this, I am not blind, I do not know anyone who is blind and therefore this is my BEST ATTEMPT to write from the perspective of someone who is visually impaired. Please don’t be too hard on this. 

It’s amazing just how much of someone you can see when you can’t actually see them.

Your day started out like it always did; with the sound of your alarm blaring in your ear. You reached out to tap at your phone screen, one, two, three times until you finally hit the correct place that disabled the alarm.

The wind whistled and you heard the patter of rain outside of your small apartment. It must be horrible weather, you thought to yourself. You pulled the covers of your bed off of your body and sat up, dangling your feet over the edge of the mattress. 

You propped yourself out of your bed’s compound, feeling along the wall to find the door so you could walk out of your bedroom. Once you’d managed to exit your room, you traced your hand along the walls of the hallways until your fingers caught on a doorway, you turned right.

Your life had been like this for as long as you could remember. You’d lost your sight when you about three years old due to a rare brain infection that the doctors caught a few days too late. It wasn’t all too troubling to you now, you were in your late twenties and had a wonderful job working as an assistant professor at a local university. 

You were happy, every piece of your life seemed to be falling into place… Except of course for love.

You’d been single for so long you almost forgot what it was like to feel someone’s tight and loving embrace or how attached you can get to the smell of the person you love.

So many people had set you up on blind dates - and so many people had made the blind date joke - that every time a friend brought up a ‘wonderful guy’ they knew, you’d shut it down instantly. The blatant truth about every man you’d gone out with on those set ups was this; no one wanted to date the blind girl.

You’d all but given up as you attended friends weddings and baby showers, some of them. Perhaps you weren’t cut out for that kind of life, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

As you went through the motions of making coffee that you’d all but memorized, you felt the empty space of the base of your left ring finger and sighed heavily. 

You drank your coffee in silence, your mind drifting off to the possible face of whoever Mr. Right might be, not that you’d ever see it for yourself.

When you made it back to your closet in your room, you peeled off your sleep shirt, feeling the hangers that hung in your closet for the braille lettering that told you what was hung there.

‘mom’s favourite dress’

That one you remembered the texture of, it was soft and lightweight but felt beautiful on. You decided that this would be perfect.

You put it on, walking back to your front door and feeling inside the drawers to grab for a pair of flats, which you found instantly by their feel.

You slipped them on and took your keys from the hook that you felt on your right, waiting for the familiar honk of a horn signifying your ride was here. When you heard the sound, you reached forward and grasped the cool metal of the door knob, twisting it and pulling it open, making sure to grab your long cane before you walked out.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” A voice, which you recognized as your co-professor, Helen Cho said.

“Hey!” You said as you felt the padlock for the keyhole, locking it and turning to walk down your porch towards the sound of the idling car.

You felt your cane hit the car lightly, so you felt along the smooth metal surface until you found the handle, opening it and getting inside.

The smell of the mint car air freshener hit your noise rather violently when you entered, but you got used to it after a while.

“Big day today.” Helen said as you began moving.

“Why’s that?” You asked.

“I managed to convince Banner to come and give a lecture on gamma rays.”

“Are you serious?” You gasped. You knew Helen worked for some high end clientele from time to time and only really took up the co prof job because she needed to be busy, but you didn’t know she had that much pull.

“Uh huh.” She said.

“Holy hell.” You mustered, “So we don’t even have to lecture today?”

“Nope, we push everything back for tomorrow.”

“It’s like a day off.” You laughed.

“And so, gamma radiation acts as an invasive form of…”

You had been zoning back in and out of Banner’s lecture, not that it really mattered anyways. It had been about a half hour so you excused yourself, taking your cane and making your way back out into the hallway to take a small walk to stretch your legs. 

You’d made it about halfway down the familiar hallway when you heard a very unfamiliar voice accompanying that of Helen Cho.

“I know it’s hard for you being here, but I figured it would be good for you to meet her, I mean you’re perfect for each other- Oh, hello, (Y/N). Bored of the lecture already?” Helen’s voice said.

“Not that Banner isn’t a wonderful public speaker,” You mused, “But gamma radiation isn’t new for me. Nothing to learn really.”

“I figured as much,” She laughed, “Oh, this is-”

“Bucky.” The voice said.

Bucky had extended his hand shake yours but Helen nudged him and nodded down at the white cane you held in your hand and he understood, his face flushing bright red.

“Okay everyone, I’m blind not stupid.” You laughed, sensing what he’d done based on an immeasurable amount of experience and the awkward silence.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said, extending your own hand out, which he took.

His hands were warm and rough and calloused, large palms and long fingers, but comfortingly so.

“And you.” He replied, something along the lines of shock in his tone, but you shrugged it away. 

“Well, I’ll let you to get back to it.” You said, quickly dismissing yourself and turning to walk back down the hall when Helen stopped you.

“Wait!” 

You turned back around.

“Bucky and I were going to go out for drinks later tonight, I figured you might want to join?”

You hesitated, social outings weren’t your thing, and Helen knew that.

“Or maybe just coffee?” She rephrased.

“Sure, if you want to meet at my place around 9?”

“God, you are such a nightowl.” Helen laughed.

“Yes or no, dearest, it’s not that hard.” You chided her.

“We’ll be there.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Nice meeting you Bucky.”

You finished your day quickly and thanked Helen when she dropped you back off at your apartment, ignoring the ‘wear something nice’ comment she made. You knew she was saying was ‘wear something nice because Bucky is going to be there’, but you didn’t say anything about it.

You didn’t know Bucky, you weren’t looking to impress him. If he turned out to be a great guy after tonight and you saw each other again, maybe you’d consider the whole ‘looking really good’ thing, but not yet. You didn’t want to put that much effort into an appearance that you couldn’t even appreciate yourself.

You made yourself a quick dinner. An aspect of your life that seemed to shock everyone around you was how well you coped independently. You were able to do almost everything by yourself based on muscle memory, hearing, scent, and a little intuition. 

By the time you politely asked siri what time it was, it was around 8:30. You decided to change into a pair of jeans and a soft knit sweater, your favourite one.

You let your hair down from its fastened bun, loose curls hitting your face softly.

A sound of a car door slamming made you slowly make your way to the front door of your flat. You instantly noted that it wasn’t the same sound of slam as Helen’s car.

A buzzer went off and you pressed the button at the door. 

“Who is it?” You asked.

“It’s Bucky.” The voice answered, and you remembered him by the sound.

You liked his voice a lot, it was rough and a bit patchy, but low and smooth sounding somehow.

You unlocked your door and swung it open.

“Hi.” You greeted him, stepping to the side to allow him in.

“Helen sort of bailed.” He admitted, and you noticed that his voice still came from in front of you meaning he hadn’t entered in yet.

This was another schemed date attempt on Helen’s part and you only now figured it out. You mentally cursed yourself for not being wise enough to see through it.

“I just figured I’d swing by and tell you, you probably don’t want to spend the night with a total stranger.” You heard him take a few steps back.

“Well, who said that?” You asked, as if your words came out faster than you could process.

There was something about this man that you liked quite a lot, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. He had an aura about him that you found relaxing.

“The coffee pot is already on, I won’t be able to drink it all by myself.” You said with a smile.

“Alright.” He replied and you felt the wind brush by you as his large frame made it’s way past you.

“Make yourself at home.” You said, moving back into the kitchen once you’d closed the door, “How do you take coffee?”

“Just black would be wonderful.” He said as you waited to hear him sit down on the couch, but no such sound came, “Can I help with anything?”

“Gosh no, sit your ass down.” You laughed, and were overjoyed to hear him do the same.

“Okay, okay.” He said, his footsteps moving back to the living room where he sat on the couch.

You poured the coffee into mugs and carried them out to where Bucky was, knowing he was on the couch. You handed one to him, slightly to the side but close enough that he could reach it, then made your way over to sit beside him.

“So, since it’s now just the two of us, I suppose I should get to know you.” You said.

“Suppose so.” You felt him shift uncomfortably, which made you feel like you needed to back off ever so slightly.

“Unless of course you don’t want to.” You added.

“No, it’s alright. i just don’t usual talk much about myself.” He said.

Bucky wanted to open up to you, just like he wanted to open up to anyone, but you seemed incredibly sweet based on what he’d heard from Helen, and - more importantly - you seemed to not know his history quite yet, so he was unsure about the whole thing.

“Well, you can ask me things and I’ll answer, and if you feel alright with it, you can answer too.” You suggested, sipping your coffee.

“That’s great.” Bucky smiled at your compromise.

For nearly two hours, Bucky asked you a multitude of questions about yourself stemming from what your favourite food was all the way to how old you were when you went blind. After a while, he told you that he wanted you to ask him a few questions, so you questioned him all about his childhood and where he grew up.

Brooklyn was a great place, he explained to you, full of really great people. You loved listening to the sound of his words when you knew a smile appeared on his face, it made everything sound sweeter from his lips.

You were beginning to really like Bucky, you felt a strong bond with him that you hadn’t felt in a long while, and you were enjoying every second of time you spent with him.

“Alright, can I ask you one more thing?” You inquired as a fit of laughter bubbled back down from your chest.

“‘Course.”

“What’s your favourite colour and why?”

“Hmm,” He pondered, “Blue. It’s really calming. Plus it matches my eyes.”

You nodded your head with a laugh, “I wish I knew what colours looked like.”

What you said nearly broke Bucky’s heart, he’d answered the question so nonchalantly.

“I thought you lost sight at three.” He said.

“I did, but even before then I was completely colour blind.”

“Oh,” He said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You said, “I asked the question because it’s always interesting for me to hear what different people answer… I’ve always felt like I’d like blue as well.”

“Yeah?” He asked, “Why so?”

“Everyone always says it’s calming, or cool, or reminds them of the ocean. It sounds pretty.”

Bucky stared at you in amazement as a thoughtful smile played on your lips.

“Can I ask you something else?” He said.

“Yeah.”

“How do you recognize people?” He whispered.

“Most of it is by voices, or smells,” You explained, “And if I’m close with someone, I usually memorize their face.”

“Memorize their face?”

“Here, like this.” You said, setting your cup down and reaching your fingertips forward until they landed on his cheeks gently. Your one hand moved to his brow, the other down to his brush over his nose. 

You noticed that he’d tensed when you’d first touched him, but seemed to relax a bit more as your moved you hands along him gingerly.

Your fingers brushed down the stubble that dotted his face, moving down to the strong jawline that lay beneath it. Your other hands moved to brush over his closed eyelids, feeling the long eyelashes under them. The thumb that rested by his jaw went to trace ever so gently along upper lip, then back along his lower. You couldn’t help but noticed the cool air pass by your thumb as he sucked in a breath at your touch.

He felt so handsome, and the conversations that you’d had over the past hour only made you more attracted to him.

“Keep your eyes closed and try to do the same to my face.” You suggested, breaking the silence.

In a moment, you felt one hand reach out and press to your cheek, a thumb tracing its way from your brow down to your nose and lips, resting on your bottom lip much like you had to him.

A sigh came from him as you pressed a small kiss to the pad of his thumb. He couldn’t quite comprehend how sweet you’d been with him, but he wasn’t going to question it, not even for a second.

“You should try two hands.” You said, but Bucky looked down at the hand he wasn’t using, the ugly metal limb, and told you he could get by on just using one.

Your index finger made a trail from his chin down his throat and along his adam’s apple, which caused him to swallow rather hard. You knew the impact that you were having on him and it was something that you were proud of.

When your finger made it’s way back up to his lips, Bucky knew he was done for. You were possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and feeling your touch like this was intoxicating.

“One more question.” He whispered.

“Okay.” You said, enjoying the way his lip felt as it moved under you thumb when he spoke.

“Can I please kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t reply with words, you simply leaned in and kissed him, your lips replacing the spot where your thumb had been. You had never kissed anyone quite like that before, so full of passion. It was as if Bucky was kissing you like he hadn’t been kissed in a long time, and like he worried he might never get the chance again.

When Bucky left that night, you pecked him on the lips again quickly, and he assured you that he’d be in touch. 

He kept to his word, calling the next day and setting up another late night coffee date. It continued this way for a good few months, each other you getting together multiple times a week to talk or listen to music, drinking various kinds of coffee all the while. There were times when he’d even stay the night.

The dangerous part of it all was that Bucky knew he was falling in love with you, but he still didn’t know how to tell you who he was. It scared him so badly because he knew you couldn’t love someone like him. A girl like you, with a beautiful heart who brought smiles to the faces of everyone she met, would never fall in love with him.

It was on one night when he was over at your place that he noticed you seemed different. He tried to shrug it off, to get you to laugh, but you wouldn’t.

Fearing the worst, he asked you what was wrong.

“There’s this trial,” You said, “A doctor called me saying I was eligible to be apart of it. They think they can reboot the part of my brain that causes my blindness. They think they can get me to see, again.” You said, your eyes filling with tears of an emotion Bucky couldn’t recognize.

“That’s great, doll!” He said, rubbing your shoulders.

“I know it is, I’m just terrified of the whole thing.” You admitted, “I’ve lived almost my whole life like this.”

“I know, darlin’, but there’s so much out there that you’re missin’.”

“Can I ask you another question?” You said.

“Of course you can.”

“Can you wait during the procedure? They told me if there was someone I wanted with me, they could wait there and come in afterwards.”

Bucky was shocked that you’d want him there, but he agreed with his whole heart, promising he’d take you there himself.

“I want you to be the first face I see.” You said with a smile.

Bucky had never heard anything so beautiful in his life, so he leaned in to kiss you with everything he had, unable to reply with words.

“I love you.” He blurted out.

You, shocked as anything, pulled away from him. Bucky knew he’d messed up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” He began but you shushed him.

“I love you too.”

“What?” He asked.

“I love you too.” You repeated.

“(Y/N).” He whispered, pressing his lips back to yours again.

As happy as he was to hear it, he knew that he needed to tell you who he was. If he was going to lose you, then he needed to put himself through it now and not when you put the pieces together yourself.

“I need to tell you something.” He said between feverish kisses.

“Alright.” You said, still keeping up with the kissing.

“I’m not who you think I am.” He said, trying to slow you down.

“What does that mean?” You said, pressing another peck to his lips.

“I’m not- I did- I’m-”

“You’re James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier?” You deadpanned and Bucky’s jaw dropped, “C’mon, did you think I didn’t know? We met through Helen - who doesn’t talk about it, but works with the Avengers, you never stand to my right which means you avoid touching me with your left side, and when you talk about your childhood, it’s painstakingly obvious that you didn’t grow up in the 90′s like most people my age.”

“You knew?”

“I didn’t until the first night you stayed over.” You told him truthfully.

You squeezed his hand when you felt him shift uncomfortably at the memory. Bucky had a terrible nightmare when he’d slept on the couch of your flat one night, and you had to sprint out of your bed to wake him.

Managing to find him, you’d shaken his shoulder gently, pleading for him to wake up until you’d felt him jolt upright.

He called out your name questioning when he saw you next to him, and you explained to him that he’d had a nightmare. You’d instantly sensed his embarrassment as he apologized for waking you, but you were having none of it. 

You knew him well enough at that point to know that he was all talk when he was trying to convince you he’d fall back asleep just fine. You told him to come sleep in your room, and he stammered out what sounded like a dismissal.

Eventually, after telling him you’d hold your breath until he agreed, he caved. You walked him back to your bed, where he laid next to you and held your hand until morning.

Bucky might never tell you, but he got the best sleep of his life that night.

“You knew?” He asked again.

“Yes, and none of it means a damn thing to me.” 

You kissed him again with a burning passion, tongues dancing against one another as opened mouths melded together.

He’d never felt love like this in his life, and neither had you.

“I’m really scared.” You said as you sat in the gurney of the hospital a few weeks after yours and Bucky’s love confession.

“I know, doll, but it’s gonna go great. I’ll be right there when you wake up.” You felt Bucky’s stubble rub against your cheek as he pressed a kiss to it.

“That is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.” You mustered a small laugh.

You reached forward with both hands, silently asking him to hold them. You felt his right hand grasp your left, leaving your free hand empty.

“Buck…” You whispered, and he reluctantly held your other hand in his left.

You’d assured him that you liked the arm, it was cold and solid and you loved to press your hand to it and feel the plates rotate when he moved. You saw beauty in its mechanics.

“Is it bad that I’m nervous too?” Bucky asked.

“Not really, I will be seeing your face for the first time.”

“You’re not gonna call me ugly are you?”

You burst out laughing, “I know you’re not ugly.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“I’ve felt your face.”

“Huh, you can tell by that?” He asked.

“Oh, yes,” You replied, “You’re far from ugly.”

A small laugh passed his lips, and you felt your heart flutter. You loved his laugh so much that it had quickly become your favourite sound on the planet, right in front of the almost unnoticeable sound of the vibranium plates in his arm shifting about late at night when he moved about in his sleep, of course.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” You heard the door open and shut closed as someone entered the room.

“Yes?” You asked.

“We’re ready for you now.”

Bucky kissed your forehead as you were wheeled into the operating room, holding your one hand tightly and whispering words of comfort until he was told that he couldn’t go any further with you.

“I love you.” You said, receiving a peck on the lips.

“I love you too.” He said back, “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll see you after.”

“Yes, you will.”

You felt his hand slowly retreat as they wheeled you into the room and strapped you down with IVs and God knows what else. When you felt a mask go over your face and you were instructed to count downwards from ten, you enjoyed your last few seconds of darkness before you went under.

When you woke you couldn’t see a thing, which alarmed you to an extent that is completely indescribable.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), you’re up.” A woman said, “The procedure was a success.” 

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“You have a wrap covering your eyes, we needed to shield them because they’re quiet fresh at the whole seeing thing, but you can take it off whenever you’re ready.” Her sweet voice said.

“Bucky.”

“I beg your pardon?” She asked.

“There’s a man named Bucky out there, can you send him in?”

“Of course.”

Bucky was in the room within seconds of hearing his name being called, he knew it meant you were awake and that you were ready to see him.

He was ushered into the room and saw you sitting up in the bed, clad in a hospital gown, a white bandage wrapping around your eyes.

Upon hearing the door close, you called out to him, and he was by your side in an instant.

“Hey, doll.” He said, pressing kisses to every part of your face.

“Hi, Bucky.” You said.

You let out a loud sigh and paused for a moment before instructing him to sit down on the bed in front of you.

“May I?” He asked tentatively and you knew he must be talking about the wrap. 

You nodded slowly and allowed him to unravel it until it was completely gone. Your eyes were still closed, but the light that had filtered in through your eyelids made you gasp slightly.

You weren’t ready to open your eyes, not yet.  A wave of panic set in and you couldn’t help but feel tears begin to fall.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Bucky said, his fingers wiping away your crying, “This is all extremely overwhelming for you.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for this.” You cried.

Bucky bit his lip and tried his best to imagine what this could possibly feel like, but he could barely comprehend. Then he remembered the first night that he was over.

“Here.” He said, reaching for your hands and placing them on his face, “Feel for now until you want to see.”

You nodded furiously, trying to keep your hands from shaking profusely as your fingers mapped out the face that you knew so well. 

You felt a flesh hand reach up and trace along your cheek. Bucky had closed his eyes and done the same thing as he had before, except this time after about a minute, he added the other hand, the cool metal of his fingers brushing along your lips.

“I love you.” You whispered, a desperate cry from your mouth.

“I love you too.”

You listened to his breathing, the sound that brought you comfort in the night when he slept next to you, and willed yourself to open your eyes.

Your eyes fluttered open and an unpleasing light filtered in, but your main focus was on the face in front of you. His eyelashes were long against his cheeks as he held them closed, his jaw strong, lips plump.

A sharp cry came your mouth, your hands pulling away from his face as his eyes shot open to see you.

The intense colour of his eyes was something that took your breath away, you’d never experienced anything like it before. You decided that no matter what, that shade of blue would always be your favourite.

You began to sob, tight choking racking your chest as the overwhelming nature of seeing the man you love for the first time - and seeing much of anything at all - hit you hard.

Bucky pulled you into an embrace, holding you like his life depended on it. His heart was so full of love and care for you that he didn’t give a damn if your tears were soaking his shoulder.

Bucky held you for what felt like forever until your cries had softened. When you left, Bucky showed you every beautiful thing he could think of; fireworks, blossom trees, sunsets. He loved to see you light up when you saw something new.

He made a pact to show you every beautiful thing that the world could offer, but you assured him that the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on was him. And he’d shrug it off, but on the nights when you’d stay awake and stare at him, absorbing every little detail, you knew that it was the absolute truth.

Bucky was amazed by you with or without your sight, because either way you loved him, either way you held him on the nights he couldn’t sleep, either way you were the one he’d run to if anything went wrong.

Either way, you were the only one who had ever taken the time to truly see him for who he was, and his heart beat for you and only you.

[squirrels-and-whales]

My mom is having surgery tomorrow to fix a hole in her heart. She’s getting older and has extra weight so this procedure isn’t without risks and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m anxious but hopefully this minimally invasive operation will go off without a hitch. If not, she will need to have full open heart surgery in the new year. If things go as planned she’ll be home before Christmas.

It’s been difficult getting into the Christmas spirit or make plans or anything really until this is over. The surgery was supposed to be last week which would have been nicer for everyone.

BUT my sister is being so difficult about this and making this alllll about her. It’s driving me bananas. Don’t tell my mom about how much this is stressing you out—it’s not about you.

She was this way exactly when I had my heart surgery. She was focused on her law school exams and how my surgery might impact upon that. It wasn’t like I could do anything about that. They were even legitimate concerns. BUT DON’T EXPECT THE PERSON GOING THROUGH SURGERY TO BE YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT.

Ugh, I just had to get that out there. My biggest feeling around all my health stuff is guilt about what I am putting others through. I wonder why that is, eh?

Anyway, heading into Toronto bright and early tomorrow to take my mom and dad to the hospital and staying over at my sister’s place. I love her but she certainly makes things difficult. And you can’t explain this to her at all without hurting her feelings.

Wish us all luck.

[sapphicalexaandra]

Impossibility Is a Kiss Away from Reality (10/?)

Pairing: Jace/Alec

Rating: E

Summary: Alec finally goes to the psychologist, but her advise might not be what he had hoped for...

Notes: Chapter 10 of Sense8 AU. I can’t believe we’re already this far! This is turning out my longest story so far, i hope it’s still intriguing :)

Not a Date

Of course, he had known all along that he was being stupid, foolish, a dumb idiot for avoiding his problems by plunging right into them without a parachute on. And now that he had fallen, the climb back up would be a bitch.

Alec only hoped that his family wouldn’t notice how bad things were. He had done exactly what he had told Izzy he would not do; he had become depressed by being all alone for a few weeks. He had lost touch with reality, lost all wish to be in it, in favor of a rosy and cozy domestic life with a ghost.

He called that psychologist.

“Office of Doctor Tessa Gray, how may I help you?” a male voice answered.

“Uhm, hello,” Alec started awkwardly, “my name is Alec Lightwood, and I...would like to book an appointment with Doctor Gray. This week, preferably.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Lightwood. Would tomorrow at 3 p.m. work?”

Alec was caught off guard for a moment, before he checked himself. “Yes, yes, of course, tomorrow is fine. Thank you.”

“See you tomorrow, then, Mr. Lightwood.”

The call ended, and Alec was left with a weird feeling. It had all been so quick and almost too easy; it truly seemed like they had been expecting him very eagerly.

Well, his father must’ve told the doctor about him, right? Nothing unusual. He had to remember that the world was still as normal as it came.

The next day, Alec would’ve run to the appointment, if he could have. Instead, he took the subway, arriving there a quarter of an hour early.

He had to thank his nervousness, though, because it took all that time to find the right building. The address written on the business card led to a rather uncharacteristic area for hosting an office, especially if one considered that it was for a doctor as prestigious as a psychologist should be. You would expect a more prominent and clean street, for one. Alec had to wonder where the hell his father had sent him to…but he should just trust him, right? It had clearly done Robert good, after all.

Finally, Alec knocked on what he hoped was the right door.

A slot immediately opened in it, a pair of distinctively blue eyes locking on to him, as a male voice – not the one that had answered the phone yesterday – asked, “Name?”

“Ehm…Lightwood. Alec Lightwood, I have an appointment with Doctor Gray?”

The man surveyed him a moment longer, then he swiftly closed the slot, and Alec heard a few locks being turned before the door was opened. “She’s waiting for you.”

As he walked a dimly lit corridor, Alec suddenly wished that he had his gun with him, because he was sure that the man walking behind him – almost as tall as him, fit, probably around forty, judging by some grey sprinkled in his dark hair – was still staring at him far too fixedly, in a way that made Alec’s hair stand up at the back of his neck. This place also became stranger and stranger the further he got into it. Too dark, too isolated, too...secretive.

And not knowing whether he could trust his instincts – sharply honed through years of service, now possibly clouded by an altered mind? – was the most stressing factor.

Nothing happened, though, and they reached the office in all quiet, the strange man closing the door behind him.

This room was at least much better; clean and nicely furnished with soft-looking couches and rugs almost covering the entire hardwood floor. Doctor Gray was a beautiful woman, most likely in her forties too, and she regarded him from her chair with a sharp, but gentle look.

Alec smiled at her, and, when she mirrored him, he felt a little more at ease.

“Hello, Mr. Lightwood. Pleased to meet you. Please, sit wherever you want,” she told him kindly.

“Hello. The feeling is mutual, Doctor Gray, and you can call me Alec,” he replied, choosing the chair closest to the door.

The doctor was still smiling. “If I can call you Alec, then you can call me Tessa.”

Alec simply nodded.

“I know that your father gave you my number, and he’s told me some things, but I want to hear from you why you are here. Why do you think you’re here?”

Alec pondered the question. “I was involved in the shooting of two weeks ago. It was standard procedure, which has become far too necessary these days and never fails to be horrible, but…I’ve always done my job impeccably. I never let anything distract me from the objective. But, I got distracted. I froze, and I got shot. People are worried that I’m hiding deeper problems, that might’ve caused me to freak out like that.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t ask why other people think you should be here, I asked why you felt the need to come to me. You must’ve thought hard about it, to take all this time. Do you think you have these ‘deeper problems’?”

Alec swallowed. “I – I do. But it’s not exactly what my family thinks. I…it’s nothing like they would ever imagine, actually.”

Alec paused. Had he thought this through? Could he tell a complete stranger about his hallucinations? What if he was locked up for good? What if he couldn’t do his job anymore?

Tessa must’ve noticed his distress, because her tone of voice turned more soothing, “This is a safe space for you, Alec. Nothing we say here will get out unless you decide it. I know trust needs to be gained, and I’m willing to earn yours. Tell me what happened.”

Alec wringed his hands, as his leg bounced up and down. He had to clear his throat a few times. “I – I saw something. Someone, that others couldn’t see. That’s why I got distracted. And I keep seeing him, all the time, and I don’t – I don’t understand how, or why, or why now. I’ve never had something like this happen to me before, and there’s nothing physically wrong with my brain, I checked. So I know that this sounds crazy, but I don’t know where else to turn to. Am I…going crazy?”

Alec looked up at the doctor, trying to convey with his eyes how much he needed her to make some sense of what was going on with him. To give him some hope.

The doctor crossed her legs. “What did this ‘checking’ that you’ve done entail?”

“A brain scan. It turned out normal,” Alec answered.

“Normal. What doctor treated you?”

“I don’t know if you know him...Doctor Pangborn.”

“Mhm,” Tessa made a sound, as she scribbled in a notebook.

Alec couldn’t help but worry about what she might’ve written in there. Maybe she thought he should’ve done more tests?

“Don’t alarm yourself so much, Alec,” Tessa, however, added, looking back at him more reassuringly. “Sometimes, our brains do provide us images and thoughts in the strangest, most mysterious of ways, especially of things that we’d never want to consciously think about. More often than not, it’s our subconscious trying to tell us something that we don’t know, or try to ignore about ourselves. And all we can do, is trying to interpret it. So you must be willing to tap into that, into yourself, Alec, and not simply ignore it or wish it away. It’s the only way to truly deal with what has been happening to you. I’m not saying it won’t be hard, and you’ll likely feel the need to put up some resistance to this seeming invasion of your mind, and it might be painful...but this is the only assistance I can offer you. Are you up to collaborate with me? Because if you are not, there is not much I can do for you.”

Alec nodded slowly. “Yeah, I – I’ll try to do…my best.”

Tessa’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer, before she seemed satisfied. “Tell me more. What, or who exactly do you see, and how?”

“I…” Alec cleared his throat, as thoughts of Jace started flooding his mind. “There was this guy, this man, just standing in the crowd during the shooting. I tried to help him, but then I saw people walk right through him. And the next thing I knew, I was somewhere completely different, nowhere I’d ever been, and I was just stunned into place…and that’s when I was shot. But that’s not all. I saw him again at the hospital, then in my apartment, and now I see him everywhere. Also in...London, apparently.” Alec’s hands were moving wildly as he tried to explain it all. “It’s just all so elaborate that I still can’t wrap my mind around it! This man, Jace, has a whole life, a story, he’s surrounded by so many other realistic people, and I don’t understand how it can be possible that I’m imagining all these details. It doesn’t feel like normal figments of imagination. I can sense Jace, I can touch him, sometimes I even think that I’m able to feel what he feels...I just, it’s just that, it could be that it’s because I’m feeling…lonely? I’m, you know, gay, and I haven’t been in many relationships, and the last one was…a long time ago, so this guy is just, it makes sense for this to be a fantasy that I’m creating for myself. He’s attractive, and he appears to like me, and we’ve shared all these...moments. It’s been just two weeks, but it feels like he’s been living with me forever, like I’ve been talking to him all my life...just, the perfect relationship one could ever hope for.” He chuckled bitterly. “And I can’t, I can’t keep this up. This fantasy is too real, and I’m afraid it will ruin my life, like it almost did already. I just want it to stop.”

Alec took a deep breath after he was done rambling. His head felt immensely big and hot. He couldn’t believe that all that had really come out of his mouth…but who else could he tell that to, without having them laugh in his face?

“It could be,” Tessa finally said, after pondering his words for a while. “When we’re lonely, and craving something, especially if we never let ourselves deal with how that makes us feel…it is possible.”

“But how do I make it stop?” Alec asked, bordering on desperate.

“You need to be patient, first of all,” Tessa stated. “Second of all, it’s still only a possibility. Don’t draw your own conclusions before actually investigating. Let me ask you a couple more questions. So, you’re completely sure this has never happened to you? Ever?”

Alec nodded. “Yeah. You think I would remember something like that, right?”

Alec chuckled again, but Tessa didn’t join.

“And how has this man been behaving? How does he react to you?” Tessa pressed on.

Alec frowned. “Well, lately he’s been trying to make me believe that he’s real. He’s very...passionate about it.”

“Can you see him now, too?”

Alec looked around, and he refrained from sighing. “No. I haven’t seen him since yesterday. Maybe...maybe he’s already gone for good. We kind of had an argument, and I told him to leave me alone. But I’m not so sure that it’ll stick, you know?”

Tessa nodded. “Why did you argue?”

Alec hoped he wasn’t blushing too obviously. “It was stupid, mostly. These moments that we have sometimes are...intense. A lot. I’m not very, you know, sexually active, usually, but it’s been really charged, with Jace. So we were sparring, and I was feeling things, and then I caught myself and went away, and later I saw Jace...being with someone else, and it upset me even if I know that it’s just a fantasy. Jace was then angry with me, yelling that I should be honest with myself and stuff and admit that I was bothered, and that he’s real.” Alec let out a sound of frustration, rubbing his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “It’s all so confusing.”

“Mhm,” Tessa made another sound, as she scribbled something else in her notebook.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” Alec added deprecatingly.

“No.” Tessa looked back at him. “We don’t use that word here. Our dreams and struggles are not pathetic, so I don’t want you to beat yourself up over this, Alec.”

Alec lowered his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

“Now, I will ask you to do something, and you’ll have to promise me to do it.”

Alec looked back up at her.

“Like I already said, you can’t simply wish this all away or avert your eyes. I’m not asking you to lose yourself in this ‘fantasy’, as you call it. One hour a day, that’s all. In that one hour, let yourself delve into it, focus all your thoughts on it, so that, hopefully, the rest of the time you’ll be freed of it, since you gave it the time it needed. If one hour is not enough, try two, at most. No more. It’s better if you even time yourself, and, if you feel like it, try writing down what you see, what you feel, what you discover during that time. When we see each other in a week, you’ll bring all that to me, and we’ll analyze it together.”

Alec opened his mouth, a protest almost about to escape him...but he nodded again. This was rather the opposite of what he had wanted, or thought would happen, but he was still determined to trust her and her judgment. Plus, it was not as if he knew a better way to deal with it.

Alec sighed. He needed to go back to Jace.

*

“What’s the problem? Why did you call me here?” Jace asked as soon as he entered Clary’s and Simon’s apartment.

The place was a roomy open-space, the walls laden with Clary’s paintings and photographs, while Simon’s instruments rested in a corner. Usually, he liked the sight. Now, he would’ve rather not been there.

The two of them smiled up at him from the couch.

“Hey, do you need a reason to come over, now? I’m offended that we had to call you,” Simon said.

He was only half-serious, so Jace didn’t mask his mood. “Well, I could’ve been doing something important.”

“Were you?” Clary put in, arching an eyebrow at him.

Jace rolled his eyes, before he flopped down at the other end of the couch, crossing his arms. “Now I can’t, can I?”

“Then you can easily watch a trashy movie with us,” Jonathan said cheerfully, coming in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand.

Jace huffed. “Seriously? Listen, guys, I don’t have time for this, I have stuff...”

“Hey, it’s okay, we can do something else,” Clary quickly said. She adjusted herself on the couch to better face him. “Actually, we could talk? It feels like we haven’t talked in such a long time.” She smiled.

Jace frowned. “We always talk. What are you talking about?”

Jonathan sat on a puffy chair at the other side of the couch, and now all three of them were staring at Jace.

“Well, mate,” Simon started tentatively, “you have to admit that you’ve been rather...distracted, these past few weeks.”

Jace’s heart started thumping in his chest. “Why – why do you say that?”

“Hey, it’s understandable,” Jonathan said, putting his hands up. “And we’ve given you space...but you know you shouldn’t let things stew for too long. You know you have us you can talk to.”

A light went ding in Jace’s head. “Oh. No, guys, I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Clary looked pointedly at him. “Because Maia told me...”

“Maia? Are you shitting me?” Jace abruptly got up, suddenly wishing to be there even less than before. “She had no right to tell you anything, I can’t believe...!”

“It’s okay, Jace. I don’t know what happened exactly, she just told me you left her that you were quite upset, and she wanted to know if you were okay,” Clary added hastily, getting up as well.

Jace paused. “Still, it’s none of your business.”

“Jace,” Jonathan jumped in, in a serious tone uncharacteristic of him, “we’re your friends, your family. We get what you’re going through, and if you can’t talk to us...”

“Do you?” Jace burst out, unable to stop himself. “Do you really get it? Do we still have to act as if it was the same thing for you two?!”

He looked between Clary and Jonathan, who looked uneasily at each other.

“Jace...” Clary started.

“No, Clary. Valentine might be your father, but you never even met him. You never knew him. It was not you whose life he ruined, nor you who he beat up!”

Jace felt frantic, winded, out of his mind. He knew he shouldn’t have said that, and that they didn’t deserve it, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret his words. Because it was something he had always believed and could never admit to himself, nor them; that nobody would ever get him.

All three of his friends were stunned into silence, and Jace simply left the room.

“Wait, Jace, don’t...!”

He slammed the door on Clary’s voice.

“Who – who beat you up?”

Jace closed his eyes for a moment, but he didn’t stop climbing down the stairs, nor walking at a furious pace on the pavement, his heart beating like crazy.

“Jace?”

You know what? He did stop, rounding in on Alec with all the fury that had been building up in him the past two days.

“Valentine Morgenstern,” he barked. When he noticed people looking at him strangely, he pressed a hand against his ear to mask it as a call. “My parents’ killer. He kidnapped me as a baby and raised me for eight years. He almost killed me, reducing me to a pulp, before he got caught and imprisoned.”

He resumed his steps, not waiting to see Alec’s reaction. He heard Alec follow him.

“Wait, wait, Jace...”

Jace ignored him, looking straight ahead.

“Jace!”

Jace felt a hand grab his arm and spin him around. Meeting those dark and deep eyes again was more painful than he would’ve thought. No, he should’ve known.

Jace didn’t say anything, and he simply stared at Alec’s mouth opening and closing a few times. “Jace, I’m so sorry. I – why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I tell you? Are you serious? Why should I tell someone who doesn’t think I’m real...”

Passersby were now giving him dirty looks, so Jace let out a sound of frustration and grabbed Alec by the arm, dragging him to a side alley.

"Why did you come back, huh?" Jace asked Alec, fixing his eyes on him and reveling in watching him squirm. 

"I...” Alec’s Adam apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “My therapist told me that I can’t ignore this, I need to tap into it if I want to..."

"Get rid of me," Jace concluded for him. 

Alec bit down on his bottom lip. He didn’t need to say anything else. 

"And how does she think this works, if I may know? What does this 'tap into' entail?" 

Alec’s eyes wouldn’t focus on him. "I should listen to what these visions are trying to tell me."

"Ah!" 

"I don’t think she means that I should listen to you...just that I need to understand why I’m having this hallucin-"

"Don’t you dare say that word to my face again, Alec. I don’t care what your therapist says, you will listen to me.” Jace inhaled sharply. “If you really wanted to understand what this is, you would’ve looked me up!"

Alec blinked. "What – what do you mean?" 

"Don’t you want proof of my existence or not? Why haven’t you looked me up? You know what I do, you must realize that my band and I are all over social media, we've released an EP, we have a youtube channel! But you haven’t even tried to look for it, cause you’re too scared to face the possibility that all this is reality. So whatever, Alec, if you’re not really trying to understand, there is no point in me still talking to you." 

He turned on his heels, determined not to look back. 

He was stopped by a hand grabbing his elbow. "Wait, Jace, please, that’s not what I – I just don’t understand how you can accept this so easily!" 

Jace shrugged himself off and turned back around in one furious motion. "You think this is easy for me?!" Jace scoffed loudly. "Do you realize what...?"

He was suddenly unable to look Alec in the eyes. He was biting his lip so hard that he tasted blood. But it was now or never, wasn’t it?

"I haven’t had a rosy life,” he added with a laugh. “Valentine raised me for only eight years, and you would think that’s nothing compared to the twenty years that have passed since then...but it’s not! Do you have any idea how long it took me to be just a functional human being? And even then, I still can’t, I can’t connect with people. Valentine’s shadow is always with me. Two of my best friends – yes, the siblings I both fucked – are Valentine’s biological children! I needed that connection to get close to them, because they already knew him, so I didn’t fear to scare them off or end up hurting them because I’m too fucked up! Actually, scratch that, I totally did hurt them for this. And it’s no better with anybody else, I’m so scared of tarnishing their lives with my problems that of the countless people I know, nobody really knows me. Even my own grandmother...I love her and I’m forever grateful for everything she’s done for me, but even she doesn’t get me." He met Alec’s eyes. "So whenever something good happens to me, I can’t just let it go! It’s too rare!"

Alec visibly gulped again. "You call this good?" he croaked.

"Not this." Jace, impulsively, desperately, took Alec’s hand and pressed it against his own heart. "You."

Alec stopped breathing, looking down at their joined hands.

“You’re different,” Jace said, his voice cracking, “I’m not saying that I understand what is going on any better than you, but I... I’ve connected with you in a way I haven’t with anybody else. I never open up with people so soon or so willingly. Yet...how long has it been? Less than a month, right? I want to do that with you. And I have. I’ve shared things with you, my life, my passions, my struggles, and you’ve done the same, haven’t you? Don’t deny it.” Alec was still looking fixedly at their hands, not meeting Jace’s eyes. “I already feel like I’ve known you...forever. And I know that you’re real, Alec, just like I know that I’m real, so, yes, no matter how crazy it sounds, how crazy all this is, I’m glad it’s brought us together. I do see it as a good thing. Too good, even.”

Jace laughed, almost exhilaratingly, thinking back to the song he had sung to Alec. Their bodies had been just as close back then. Their skins, their entire beings, had vibrated against one another like they did now. Jace couldn’t resist placing his other hand over Alec’s heart, and he tried to look into Alec’s eyes to search for something. But Alec had closed them, and they were both still. Jace could hear how their heartbeats were in synch.

“Alec, please, I know you must feel something, too. I know you can feel how I’m touching you just as I can.”

Alec made a somewhat strangled sound, before he forcefully teared his hand away, retroceding until his back hit a wall. He stayed there, staring at the ground in front of him as his chest rose and fell unevenly. He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes.

Jace deflated like a balloon. He didn’t want anything more than to just keep being angry at all that stubbornness...but he felt only sad. More than anything, he wanted to wrap his arms around Alec and hug him all day.

He didn’t dare. He didn’t want to distress Alec further.

Jace sighed. He took a few tentative steps forward, then he gingerly wrapped a hand around Alec’s wrist, tugging it.

“Come with me,” he told Alec, more gently than he thought he could manage.

When he didn’t stop pulling him, Alec wordlessly let himself be led away from that alley and into the busy street outside.

“Where – where are we going?” Alec finally asked, rather raucously, when they reached a bus stop.

Jace shrugged. “I just realized I never showed you around.”

Alec opened his mouth, most likely to protest, but the bus arrived in that moment, and Jace quickly got on it. His hand was still holding Alec’s wrist, so Alec couldn’t help but follow right behind him. Jace chose two seats on the second floor, the ones that faced the big front window. Every tourist deserved the best view, after all.

Alec stayed quiet the entire ride, and then the next one. He merely kept staring at everything – even though Jace doubted that he was really paying attention – until they reached their destination.

“Seriously?” was the first Alec said, as soon as he took in where they were.

Jace grinned. “It’s a classic.”

The queue to get on the London Eye was always a pain in the ass. And their still obstinate, prolonged silence only made it worse. So, when they finally stepped inside one of the passenger capsules, it took everything in Jace not to let out a big sigh of relief.

He didn’t know what his plan was, or if he even had one. He just wanted Alec to believe him.

*

Alec felt jittery and vaguely nauseous, and he didn’t know why he was still there, going with Jace on top of the London Eye. Because, while spending an entire hour with Jace was what Tessa had told him to do, he had no idea what the point of it even was. Everything was still the same; him being pulled in by Jace irreversibly, inescapably. And, surely, the last thing the psychologist had meant was for him to start believing that Jace was real.

Something that became harder and harder not to do.  

“It really is a beautiful view,” Alec found himself saying.

The capsule was full of people, yet him and Jace were standing in a corner, looking out side by side, and Alec kept forgetting that they weren’t alone.

Jace suddenly took his phone out, and started typing in his notes.

It sure is, Alec read.

Right, Jace couldn’t very well talk out loud to himself.

When Alec raised his eyes from the phone, however, he immediately met Jace’s colorful ones, so that there was no misinterpreting what Jace had meant. Alec cursedly felt himself blush. Why did Jace have to be like that? And why did he have to have such beautiful eyes? Alec could swear he always got lost in them.

Sighing, Alec forced himself to break eye contact and resume his staring outside. They didn’t say anything else.

Next, Jace brought him to his favorite café in a less touristy part of town. All this travel was using up Alec’s time, so he covertly added one hour to his timer as they walked up to it. They were still not talking, but it had stopped being awkward at some point during the half-hour Ferris wheel ride. It felt more like...companionship, now. Jace bought a few of his favorite desserts to let Alec try them, and Alec found himself smiling more than once at Jace’s joy for it. He was surely a glutton, and Alec couldn’t really blame him once he tasted some of it.

Then they took the subway, and walked quite a while to reach a little park. Rosehill park, Alec read on a board.

Quite a few people were there, too, either laying on the grass or watching their kids playing around.

“Valentine used to bring me here.”

Alec froze, and looked at Jace’s downcast profile.  

“Once a month,” Jace continued, “he let me go here and play with the other kids. It was almost the only time I was out of the house.”

Alec felt his insides almost turn to ice, as he stared at the rising terrain in front of them. A group of kids were running up the hill, laughing and pushing each other.

“Who comes last is a big dummy!”

“Don’t cheat, Jace!”

Alec hissed, bringing a hand up to rub his temple.

“What is it?” Jace asked him worriedly.

“Nothing, just...a headache.”

What had he just heard? It had felt like...a memory? But that couldn’t be right, could it? It was probably just the kids over there. They surely hadn’t said ‘Jace’, maybe...’Chase’?

“You want to go away?” Jace added, more forlornly.

Maybe he should’ve, but Alec was already shaking his head before Jace had even finished the sentence. “No, it’s okay. Just...why do you come here, then?”

Jace’s brow furrowed. “It’s a nice place, I like it. I won’t let Valentine take it away from me.”

Alec nodded wordlessly. He suddenly wished that this Valentine was right there in front of him, so that he could reduce him to a pulp. Alec already knew that the more he’d think about what Jace had revealed to him about his childhood, the more he’d get worked-up. How dare someone do that to...

“Hey, come on,” Jace urged him, taking a step forward.

Alec shrugged himself off. There would be time to elaborate that later.

They quietly walked up the hill. Once they reached the top, they turned around, and that was surely another memorable view, with the sunset tinging the sky and the city in a pastel glow. Again, however, Alec could feel that Jace’s eyes were solely on him.

Alec sighed. They couldn’t keep staying quiet for much longer, he understood that. He also realized that he still had no idea what to do, or to think. Because what Jace hadn’t realized, was that he wanted nothing more than to believe that he was real, and embrace everything that was happening. He wanted it so much that he knew that it just couldn’t be that simple.

It was indeed too good to be true.

“Jace...”

“Alec...”

Their eyes met, and they both chuckled.

Alec sighed again. “Listen, Jace...”

“No, Alec, please. Don’t say it.” Alec felt himself being spun around, a hand wrapped firmly around his elbow, as another went to cup his jaw. He stared helplessly into blue and brown eyes. “You still want to understand what this vision is trying to tell you? Well, this is what I tell you.”

He could’ve walked away and stopped it, it was not as if Jace didn’t give him the time. But Alec wasn’t as delusional as to think that he could ever not want it.

So he stood right where he was as Jace wrapped his arms around his neck, leaned his head upward, and pressed his lips against Alec’s. That was all Alec could do to stay still, before his own arms shot around Jace, and he drew him closer towards himself.

And they were kissing. Finally. Alec had wanted to do it two weeks ago, after all. And a moan felt stuck in his throat as his mouth slid against Jace’s, his tongue slipping out to taste him, to savor him.  

Nothing anyone could ever imagine, that was what that kiss felt like. It didn’t feel like anything, actually, but rather...Jace reverberated on a higher frequency all around Alec, reaching something far deeper than his mere physical body. And Alec could sense everything; how their bodies pressed flush against each other, how Jace kept holding onto him more and more tightly, how Jace’s heels had left the ground to be able to reach Alec’s mouth. Alec thought he could taste and feel himself, not just Jace, in a ripple of multiplied sensations that one after the other caused whole waves of pleasure to propagate from every place of contact. 

Jace’s hands went to cup the back of his head, and Jace seemed to be leaning away, but Alec didn’t let him. He captured Jace’s bottom lip and sucked on it, as Jace’s fingers tangling in his hair made him shiver. Alec’s mouth slid down Jace’s to lay kisses all over his jaw, and the side of his neck, while his hands were spread wide over Jace’s back, caressing it. He felt the vibrations of Jace’s moan under the skin he was tracing, but Jace’s hand soon led him back to his lips. Not before their eyes swiftly met, though, and Alec was lost once more.

He kissed Jace with renewed need. And he realized that his eyes were particularly stingy.

His timer went off, and Alec found himself back in his apartment, sitting on his bed, his arms circling nothing but air. He had never felt colder.

Alec curled in on himself and groaned as loud as he could. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...

No. No, no, no, no.

NO.

He could not do this. He would not do this!

Alec dived for his phone on the nightstand.

I’m sorry, I can’t come again, he wrote to Tessa, clicking send before he could think about it.

He would not do this.

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

Review: BLACK MIRROR Season 4 (Part I - Episodes 1 & 2)

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Review: BLACK MIRROR Season 4 (Part I - Episodes 1 & 2)

Black Mirror Season 4 dropped on December 29th, on Netflix.

SPOILER-FREE REVIEW:

Watch it. Oh my God, watch it. Now, then; Spoilers ahead.

EPISODE 1: USS CALLISTER

The aspect ratio of the opening sequence matches the aspect ratio of the old Star Trek television show. It’s little things like that keep my coffee hot and get me up in the morning.

“USS Callister” really tells two stories: the first is the tale of a loser computer programmer named Robert Daly, who’s created a groundbreaking Virtual-Reality-based game that lets people fly around the universe in spaceships, explore planets, battle each other trade, etcetera. The guy he started the company with is a dick who doesn’t appreciate his contributions to the company. His coworkers think he’s weird and awkward and kinda creepy sometimes.

The second story is that of a sadistic and cruel God named Robert Daly. Daly has created a parallel Virtual Reality that allows him to play out his fantasies of being a Hero in Charge, based on a retro science-fiction television show he loves. (Think Star Trek.)

The twist of the knife is that he has peopled this game with digital copies of coworkers he dislikes, generated by stolen samples of their DNA. They have all their memories and personalities from the real world. They are sentient, thinking and feeling as their real-world selves.

What “USS Callister” asks us is (among many other things), are they alive?

Not that episode one is all scowling and torment. Brooker mentioned that Black Mirror would ‘explore a little more comedy in this season’, and there is certainly a strong heartbeat of humor here. It’s the best kind of laughter, too, for the series: black humor. Hangman’s jokes. The dry British chuckle in the face of the abyss.

Watching the tortured, terrified digital clones of the USS Callister unwind while Daly is logged out of the game reminds one of London in the Blitz. Sure, there are bombs and blood and rubble everywhere, and things are pretty awful, but at least the bottles behind the bar survived.

When the newest digital clone, Cristin (played by Nanette Cole) finds out that nobody has genitals in Daly’s digital world, her battle cry is priceless:

Okay. Stealing my pussy is a red. Fucking. Line.

“USS Callister” is like a great Doctor Who episode that just happens to be Rated R.

When the trailers for Season 4 dropped, the teaser for “USS Callister” left out the real world entirely. It was a move of twofold genius. First, it saves the surprise of our first, bleak glimpse of the real world. Our introduction to neurotic weirdo Daly (an absolutely stunning performance by Jesse Plemons) feels like a nihilistic sigh of relief. It doesn’t have to be full dark 24/7, but there’s something in the uncompromising, unblinking hardness of Black Mirror that has always set it apart. A certain bleak jouissance that no other show delivers.

Second, it works as a commentary on the episode itself. In our little taste of “USS Callister,” the real world isn’t there at all. The trailer promises pure sci-fi. Pure escapism. Fun. Adventure. There’s no trace of the sinister sadism of Daly, or the suffering of his comrades. There’s no sense of true tragedy or actual stakes.

Just like the immersive, next-gen VR in the episode.

“Callister” examines the more disturbing elements of the AI and VR booms we’re seeing right now. Ten years from now, if we have a bad day, put on our VR headsets, and kill a hundred digital people in Call of Duty online, what will that mean? In a world where code is ever-improving, at what point is a program as nuanced and multifaceted as us? We don’t feel anything drowning Sims or making them wet themselves…but should we? If not today, when? At what point does simulated suffering cease to be Catharsis and become Sadism?

With the advent of technology like CRISPR, perhaps we aren’t so far from Daly’s nightmare after all.

  EPISODE 2: ARKANGEL

The obvious big-gun episode of the season is “Arkangel.” There’re no scrubs in the directorial talent of Black Mirror, but Jodie Foster (four Oscar nominations, two wins, Silence of the Lambs, ‘nuff said) is clearly the Heavy Hitter.

She swung for the fences.

She knocked it out of the park.

I don’t even like baseball.

“Arkangel” tells the story of a mother and daughter. When her daughter Sara (Aniya Hodge, Sara Abbot, and Brenna Harding) goes missing, Marie (Rosemarie DeWitt, Cinderella Man, Mad Men) has a monitoring system implanted in Sara’s head. It’s called “Arkangel,” and gives Marie access to Sara’s location, biological vitals, and even a direct feed from her optic nerve. Marie can see what Sara sees.

But “Arkangel” isn’t really about the creepy sci-fi stuff. None of the best episodes of Black Mirror are, and this is one of the best in the series. No. “Arkangel” is about what happens as Sara grows up. It’s about the Helicopter Parents of the future. About how far Marie will go to keep her safe, and how much of herself she’ll compromise to do it.

And the inevitable price to be paid.

The brilliance of Foster’s episode is (to borrow from Blake), its fearful symmetry. Its balance. Each element dances with another, each character reflected darkly in the actions of others. Sara and the all-seeing eye in her head are like a weight in the center of the episode. On one side is Marie and her Orwellian baby monitor. On the other is Trick (a superb performance by Own Teague), the Cute Drug Dealer from the Wrong Side of the Tracks, and all the rebellion and danger he represents.

Every line, every interaction in the episode shifts that weight, tilts the precarious position of the scale. Structurally, it’s breathtakingly beautiful. There is no wasted moment.

I don’t know whether to give the nod to Brooker (who has sole writing credit on the episode) or Foster for the delicate dance of these threads. The interplay between the writing and directing style is an elegant pas de deux, each word and element circling the others, and pulling the weave ever tighter.

Brooker understands Irony in a way that few shows do, and utilizes it like the keen, heartrending edge that it can be. And he knows Tragedy. The Capital-T kind that the Greeks told us so much about, all those years ago. He knows it intimately. Knows that the key to Tragedy is Hamaratia: the Fatal Flaw.

There are several Fatal Flaws in “Arkangel.” They run (appropriately) in arcs through the episode. Tracing those threads back reveals the subtlety and nuance Foster and Brooker actually manage.

Almost everything Marie does throughout the episode is countered or echoed elsewhere: when she reactivates the Arkangel unit in Sara’s teens, she sees her having sex with Trick, the “Dangerous Bad Boy.” Yet, that same night, she met up with one of her patients from physical therapy: a devil-may-care biker who injured himself driving his motorcycle recklessly, and shows no signs of slowing down.

Marie sees Sara experimenting with cocaine in Trick’s van. The effect of the drug is that it raises Sara’s heart rate. A few days later, Marie grinds some drugs into Sara’s morning smoothie. The effect of drugging her daughter is the spontaneous abortion of a pregnancy Sara didn’t even know about.

It’s ironic that Marie should confront Trick, condemning him as “a junkie.” Throughout the episode, Marie treats the Arkangel parent unit as a junkie treats drugs. She hides the unit upstairs, laments over whether to use it or not. Okay, just this one more time. Uses it just a little. Just a few functions. Starts carrying it with her. It’s clear that she’s addicted to it.

There’s even a brilliant reversal of the classic “Parent finds drugs in the kid’s room” scene, where Sara rifles her mother’s room and discovers that she’s still using the Arkangel parent unit. Sara is horrified and tosses it down, the perfect picture of a parent discovering their child’s dangerous addiction.

Marie is the first victim of Arkangel, and in her victimhood, she stands for all of us. I don’t mean the program itself. I’m talking about the sentiment behind it. Beneath the eerie veneer of the invasive surveillance of tomorrow, “Arkangel” is quietly commenting on something we’re experiencing today.

Safety. In excess. In extremis.

The opening scene of the episode doesn’t just establish the characters and set the stage. It holds up a mirror. Marie is giving birth: after complications during natural birth, the doctor is performing a C-section. “Arkangel” opens with Marie looking away from the things that frighten her: the doctors, the nurse, the procedure she’s undergoing. When Sara is finally born, the doctors whisk her away to a table nearby. There is no sound. No cry. Other doctors gather, and Marie becomes afraid: afraid her baby is dead, that she’s lost her little girl, and is powerless to help.

“Tell me she’s alright,” she says.

The nurse holds her hand, tells her to calm down. Comforts her. Then Sara cries and is brought over, and she’s fine, and everything is fine. We get the sort of close-up maternal scene we’re accustomed to seeing when babies are born on television. Lots of nuzzling and happy tears and lifelong bonds being wound between mother and child.

And then, brilliantly, brutally, honestly, Foster shows us what we seldom see these days, too busy cooing over the microcosm and the close-up.

She shows us the big picture.

On one side of the curtain, Marie is bonding with her little girl. Her daughter is alive and well. Everything is fine. Nurses smile and nod and congratulate her. And on the other side of the curtain, her body is open and bloody. Doctors work quietly to stop the bleeding and make her whole again. Though a routine procedure, Marie has experienced massive trauma, could conceivably die if things go wrong…but she’ll never know. The sheet protects her. She doesn’t feel a thing: the doctors have numbed her to the trauma she’s experiencing. All that’s left is bliss.

(By the by, I’m not suggesting we force new mothers to watch surgeries performed on them without anesthetic. I’m not a monster. I am an observer of metaphors.)

The “parental control” of the Arkangel unit is obviously the darkest, most troubling of the sci-fi elements of the episode, but it raises some interesting questions about what safety might mean, in the long-term.

When Sara’s grandfather has a heart attack, she can’t see what’s happening to him, and can’t hear his pleas for her to get help. She’s shielded from the trauma by the unit. But there’s a parallel in our world, here: if we crumble in the face of fear and trauma, shutting down and closing it out, refusing to look, what are the consequences of that willful blind eye?

Later, as Marie grieves over her father’s grave, Sara can’t see her mother’s face. Grief is uncomfortable. It has been censored out.

Again, there are real considerations for us in the real world. If we turn our backs on grief and powerful, negative human emotions because they make us uncomfortable, what does that mean? The end of empathy? A society that must grieve alone and uncomforted, with no community to feel and grieve with us, no strength to be lent to us because we are, in our sadness, upsetting?

Just something to think about.

Sara’s grandfather speaks for some us, after Marie has the Arkangel implanted in Sara’s head:

“I remember when we used to open up the door and let the kids be.”

It provokes an interesting thought. The difference between opening a door and a locked one can be the difference between a home and a prison. Between a conversation and a censure is the difference between a parent and a warden.

And once you’ve escaped a prison, why would you ever go back?

  Overall

There’s a common thread between “USS Callister” and “Arkangel.”

Hope.

When Cristin and company break out of Daly’s digital world, they have a whole new universe to explore. They’re in charge of their own destinies again. They have free will, and the will to live.

Once Sara escapes her mother’s smothering safety, she has a whole world to explore. She’s free, finally, with her whole life ahead of her.

Watching these two episodes, I noticed something for the first time. In the opening credits of Black Mirror, just before the screen goes dark, and we stare into the black possibilities of the onrushing technological age…

The Black Mirror always cracks. The mirror Brooker holds up is not impervious. We can escape.

There’s always hope.

[housebearshouseparty420]

I never wanted to be a revolutionary, I just want to eat candy and watch cartoons all day.

Around noon I got a phone call from the clinic. A lot of times I get a call, sometimes automated, sometimes a secretary and the exchange lasts about 30 seconds. "Hi, can you come in tomorrow?” “Okay” “Great!" And it's cool.

I was dead a-fuckin'-sleep and answered to 'Kenny?' “Speaking!" I said, not wanting to do the whole awkward 'That's me! This is he?' runaround when you're caught off guard, which I very much was. I have social anxiety, I have to rehearse my menu options before I get to the restaurant, it’s bad. I didn't even have time to fake lower my voice to sound gruffer. I was hoping it would be an easy 'Yes? Okay! I'll be there. Bye.' It wasn't. It was a real talk. Who even talks on the phone anymore right?  

It was the national director of the clinic or something, I didn’t really catch the title. Someone very high up, she is the person who runs things. She got an email from the social worker saying things hadn't been perfect, and I thought this might be the case. I had straight-up said I wasn't mad, I didn't think anyone was doing it on purpose. I told the social worker before I left, “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

So, she asks about my experience at the clinic and I’m like, 'Uhhh less than ideal? Well... I DO like to be called by my name? I don't care what forms say, a requisition with my old name actually makes a lot of sense, but in casual conversation, this matters a lot. If a William wanted to be called Bill I'd hope they wouldn't have to do a big dance... I'm not MAD I just I've really tried?'

Apparently, they are were already planning on changing computer systems, right now it is very binary: Female/Male but they’re hoping the new system will have more options.

And I didn't say, 'I am male, that's the point!' I said, "That's great. There should be an 'other' or little trans box, because a non-binary person might like to be called 'they' or whatever and it should be there as a courtesy."

I was pretty much on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, I mentioned that we had specifically chosen this place based on their little blurb on the website about working with trans people before.

She said that they had, and that's why this was so unacceptable, since inclusivity was like one of their pillars or mission statement or whatever she said, so it's really important to them that everyone feels safe/respected.

So they've talked to the staff, some of it was as easy as explaining that the computer deadnaming me, some techs with English as their second language needing it spelled out for them and society changing, so I mean I get it. They're all taking it very seriously and I do appreciate it, I told her so.

My wife works 9-5 so she hasn't been able to go to every appointment with me, but she's always really good about gently reinforcing my preferences so, right before the sono the worst of the tests, she says she told the tech: 'Actually, he likes to be called Kenny' and by the time I got back from the washroom they were like 'Okay deadname if you could lie down' And I was like, 'Soooo... I am in hell.'

I told the director that it’s really just that any hospital environment is stressful (A nurse and I had a cool talk about white coat syndrome making people extra nervous) at the best of times without being called 'Ma'am.' I'm already uncomfortable enough just being there without making it worse, or using the emotional energy that I need to get me through the more invasive procedures to start correcting and educating people. Trans people should be taken more seriously. It's just not my job when it's a place that says they've already been through this multiple times with other patients. 

Like, it's not just transmasculine people carrying a child, it could be a transmasculine person donating their eggs to a cis female partner, a trans woman going off of estrogen long enough that she can fertilize an egg. (I kinda hate that word, I spent a lot of time on a farm and my mind goes straight to poop.) I’d hate for her to be misgendered in that situation too. And just non-binary people existing. She agreed that in this day and age it shouldn't have to be a big thing.

As a society, we've had over a decade to get used to the idea of fathers carrying. Thomas Beatie started laying the foundation for this in 2007 and I'm sure he was hardly the first, just the first most people had heard of. It made me internalize things really weirdly because my mom was like ‘OH MY GOD LOOK AT THIS CRAZY THING ON THE TV!’ He was so so brave to do this, but I had to hear opinions I wasn’t ready to hear and it scared me.  I always felt weird about the movie 'Junior' as a kid. Where Arnold Schwarzenegger's character, a cis man is part of a fertility experiment. In health class, the teacher had joked about in the year 2200 there would probably be womb transplants on men, except that no man would want to. Pregnant men were a punchline and it just rubbed me wrong.  

I never knew how to make the distinction that I wanted kids but didn't want to be a mother. I wasn't really even out as queer yet. I faced homophobic backlash even when I did deny it, but I knew that much. I'd get so mad when people would talk about my future children, not because I didn't want them, but sometimes I just wondered if I could find anyone and that I literally could not think of a world where I would feel safe enough where I could get married let alone have kids.

I've seen such a difference in the last 15 years, so much has changed for the better, with both laws and people’s attitudes in Canada, but it's still a scary world. I feel sick when I think about trans people in the bible belt. But at 17 I never dreamed that I would be on the phone with a big wig having a real, genuine conversation about how to make things better for gender non-conforming people. (I guess I better actually transition after this if I'm starting shit!)

The only reason I'm containing my anxiety so well is because I knew even half asleep that this was one of the rare times when someone was genuinely trying to help me and actually had the power to make a difference, that if I did speak up I would be making it that much easier for the next (pre-T) guy to come in trying to have a baby so he can just live his life and after the first day could go home like, 'It was fine! They called me he! They got it! Maybe this isn't going to be as bad as I thought!'