#I need to study his brain under a microscope like a bug

[movedtonewblogcheckpinnedpost]

Okay, so at first I thought Jaime didn't really care about fatherhood at all, but at a second thought I think he might? Sure, he's not dad of the year, and it's not like he craves having children with all his soul and is devastated that Joffrey died, but I believe maybe there's some part of him that wishes things had been different and he could've built his own family? I dunno. I'm not sure. He always says things as "I should('ve) do(ne) this or that", so it's never clear if he is talking about his own feelings or if he is guilty for not having such feelings... It could go both ways, I guess. 🤔

[the-irrelevant-trumpeter]

anyway as you know i’ve been getting into smosh recently, and i’m really just. shayne topp the man that you are.

is this a safe space to admit to a crush on a white blond cishet man

[selfindulgenceisthekey]

Thoughts on toei studios hate for sanjis character? They really have taken so much of his action scenes and cool moments from him to give them to zoro or just remove them entirely and made his pev joke just so much more extreme and gross. Like in the manga he doesn't do heart eyes at bonny since she is 12 years old and doesn't act like a dog with stussi and say he has been her servant since he first saw her (which was at his wedding) . Manga sanji is so much better and I'm praying wit studio does him accurately

I have a lot of feelings about Sanji as a character. I also have a lot of feelings on how Toei depicts not only him, but other characters as well.

Sanji as a character is so complex, I want to psychologically dissect him and his brain and study him like a bug under a microscope. But I digress--

I feel like, since in the manga he is depicted as this women-focused, kind of flirtatious guy who holds women in high regard, then Toei goes "oh, resident pervert character". And look, I do have issues with Sanji as a character from time to time, don't get me wrong. But Toei really does make it worse, like you said.

Overall regarding anime/manga: we don't need that perverted, comic relief character. Cause rarely do I ever actually find them funny, what's the point? That's just a tangent though.

But yeah. Toei does Sanji dirty and makes him lean into the perverted character role more than he does in the manga.

They also like to whitewash characters, and I agree with a lot of people: if they're always in the sun, wouldn't it be the opposite? Wouldn't they be getting tanner?

[sourw0lfs]

dance with the devil - part seven

This has been done for days but I told myself I'd write ahead a bit before I posted it. Then my brain went on vacation about it, so uh here?

Words: 692 | Rating: E (mostly parts 1 & 2, but also future parts) | CW: no warnings this time! except Eddie's continued bad time

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve

Most of the details surrounding his actual death are fuzzy to Eddie, and he supposes that makes sense in the grand scheme of things. Something about blocking out trauma or whatever. He isn’t really sure how any of that actually works. Instead he just focuses on making it all into a cohesive story for the girl that’s still staring at him judgingly. And yeah, he’s earned that look if he’s being honest with himself. He did show up uninvited.

“Well,” he says with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “It all starts in this very city, about twenty-three years ago.”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, I want the long story but not your life story,” the girl interrupts him. “Start with how you ended up in the same room as Steve.”

The interruption should be rude, but Eddie just shrugs. Less work for him and his already fuzzy memories. It’s like as soon as he died, everything got jumbled up and thrown away if he didn’t need it. It’s a pain honestly. “Right, so,” he starts again with a pointed look at the girl. “I don’t know if he mentioned that I’ve been assigned as his guardian angel, but I have been. Because I died recently.”

Something twinges painfully in Eddie’s chest as he says the words, but he presses on anyway. It’s not like he knows why he’s sad about being dead. “I don’t know why I got assigned your friend or who made the decision or whatever,” he continues. “I just know that I’ve got a job to keep him safe, and I have to do it or it’s adios to somewhere much less fun for me.”

Hopefully that’s enough to appease both the girl and Steve, because Eddie doesn’t really have much else on the topic. They’re both looking at him like he’s grown a second head, and that does absolutely nothing for Eddie’s worries.

“So you’re not actually an angel then,” the girl says after studying him for a few minutes. “Because if you were, failing Steve wouldn’t be it for you, would it?”

It’s then that Eddie decides he doesn’t like her. Not because she’s wrong. She isn’t wrong. But because there’s something deeply uncomfortable about a stranger calling him out so quickly and easily.

He sighs heavily, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “No, it wouldn’t be. Or I imagine it wouldn’t be. I don’t actually know. I just know I woke up from dying and a really scary, really tiny lady told me I had to keep ‘Steve Harrington’ out of harms way until I stack up enough good points to get real wings. And that failing would be bad.”

The girl is frowning at him, studying him like a bug under a microscope again, and Eddie squirms. Then her expression softens, and it makes Eddie feel bad for disliking her just a little. “Thank you for protecting him,” she says quietly. “Usually that’s my job, but I don’t have angel magic or whatever.”

Eddie isn’t sure why she just believes his words for what they are, but he’s not going to question it. Not if it makes his life (non-life?) easier. "I mean, I barely do, but you're welcome all the same. I'm Eddie." He thrusts a hand in the girl's direction.

"Robin," she returns with a smile as she takes his hand and gives it a firm shake.

It's a lot better, a lot calmer, than his introduction with Steve. Considering Eddie still wouldn't even know his name if he hadn't been sent in with it. Despite the original hesitation, Eddie thinks he might like this Robin girl a lot more. Maybe that'll make this whole thing just a little bit easier to swallow. Because Steve certainly isn't doing Eddie any favors, even after Eddie got him out of what would have been a full-on murder charge. Ungrateful, but Eddie has a job to do, thankless or not.

"Glad you two are getting on, really," Steve says as he looks between the two of them with a grumpy frown. "But what exactly does this all mean for me? It's my life being invaded."

Tags below the cut! Let me know if you want added <3

@chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @tboyeddie @penny00dreadful @momotonescreaming @stevesbipanic @dawners @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd @littlebluejane @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lawrencebshaggoth @sadisticaltarts @queenie-ofthe-void @r0binscript @anaibis @hairdressersdoitwithstyle @goodolefashionedloverboi @spookednsaucy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @flustratedcas

[starleska]

Yeah I think you pulled me down the Toymaker rabbit hole. My beloved mutual wants to steal his gender and I need to put him on a conveyor belt and rearrange his insides methodically.

Your guide to his German accent was impeccably brilliant, by the way! Your written Toymaker is alive and I hear him speak when I read your writing. That happens very, very rarely.

Would love to see more of him, though you did mention something being in the works in the Archive! :)

hehehe yes!!!!! i love being insane enough about a fictional character to produce my own mavitational field and drag other people down with me!!! welcome to Toymaker brainrot hell 😉💖

god, who doesn't want to steal the Toymaker's gender or open him up to figure out what's wrong with him?? he's that classic slaying combination of 'do i want to be him? do i want to be with him? do i want to run away as far as possible? or do i want to study him like a bug under a microscope?' 😭

awww my gosh thank you so much, you're so sweet!!! 🙈💖 i can't believe my silly little hyperfixation ramblings have gained so much traction and helped lots of folks with their own writing!! i absolutely love analysing and breaking down the way characters speak, and the Toymaker's ridiculous false accents scratch the oft-unused linguistic parts of my brain so well 🥺💖 hearing you say he feels alive is the most wonderful comment a writer could receive!! thank you 😭 oh, yes yes yes!!! don't you worry - i can confirm that Dollface is getting a Chapter 2, which i am very excited about 🥳 i am also working on a super special ultra secret project which i cannot breathe a word about...folks in the Toymaker Discord server i'm now a mod of have been treated to a couple of hints, and will be finding out more in the coming weeks. i'm not alone on this particular project either...it's gonna be very fun when it's finished 🙈💖 but alas, i've said too much!

just, thank you so very much for being so nice to me!!! especially on the day before my birthday...as i turn 26, i am overwhelmed with love and creativity and fantastic vibes. you are wonderful, and i hope you have a magnificent time with your new blorbo 😉

[fishofthewoods]

iwtv final thoughts i'm so so so so obsessed with armand its not even funny. like i'm not really a person that tends to have blorbos from my shows like i don't tend to fixate on one person but armand has bewitched me body and soul. he's my poor little meow meow my one and only. normally when i say i want to study someone like a bug i'm joking a little but i am so serious i need his brain under a microscope. AND he's pretty?????? how is this allowed. almond you will always be famous

[bievanbuckley]

I wanna crack eddies head open like an egg and see what the hell he is thinking about when he has one of his face journeys. I am literally the 'let me in' meme

biggest mood ever. i need to put his brain under a microscope and study every tiny bit of it like a bug. WHAT IS HE THINKING. WHAT ISN'T HE SHARING. what kind of high priestess do i need to become in order to find out what he carries into that gay little brain of his. come on eddie, spit it out we won't tell. LET US IIIIIIIIIIIN

[actualbird]

tot ao3 fic recs part 5: character studies or just any fic that made me go, "damn, author knows/interprets this character AMAZINGLY!!!"

previous tot fic recs post can be found at the very bottom of my tot masterlist

these are fave fics ive read that made me further Understand the tot character in question, that opened my eyes or delved deeper into an already visible trait, that well and truly studied tot characters like a bugs under a microscope (affectionate).

all 6 fics here feature no ships and are completed

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it waits for you by quarterweeb

“I hope you liked the city; it’s a favorite of mine.” Artem nodded, and the old woman smiled indulgently. “Did you visit Vienna, too?” - Inspired by Billy Joel's "Vienna."

focus on artem, outsider pov

this fic is the most recent one on this list that i read and oh my god, it made me actually cry. real tears, yo. in the span of 1.5k words, artem wing was gently pried open and told the exact kindness he NEEDS to hear and also will have the MOST trouble believing. the prose here is so like, beautifully simple, just an everyday conversation that can happen to any of us. but then there are lines of dialog that happen that artem is never gonna forget.

and also im never gonna forget a very specific line here. it's been etched into my BRAIN. i wont spoil it tho, GO READ THIS! ESP IF UR AN ARTEM ENJOYER!!!

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artblock by quarterweeb

There’s the sound of some slapping, and then a switch flicks on. Cody blinks against the light, although it’s still kinda dim. The whole hallway looks...gross. It looks gross! The walls and the floors are just gray-brown concrete with little posters and stuff hung up to make it look less like a jail. In front of him is a guy with normal clothes on and dog tags. “You look like an asshole,” Cody says, because it's true and his parents aren’t around. - Cody Teller is locked in the depths of the Stellis Art Gallery, when some random guy comes out of nowhere to help him out.

focus on marius, outsider pov

yo, i think quarterweeb is a master of outsider pov by this point. this is another one of her fics and it's SO DELIGHTFUL!! LITTLE KID POV and thru this pov the fic takes us thru this like, rlly sincere snapshot of who marius is when hes connected over something he loves: art. thru just the interaction in here, a very clear understanding of marius shines thru even if the fic isnt going too "deep" so to speak.

all in all, this is funny and very earnest read!!

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Two Degrees (of Separation) by samandspam

“... After all, I have two doctorate degrees, whereas Artem has only one.” Sure, he only had a doctorate in law, but he had managed to pass an exam that had a one percent pass rate with flying colors. He may have the patience and goodwill of a saint, but Neil and Celestine had honed on his subtle pettiness. But such was the saying: you should always lookout for the quiet ones. or alternatively: Artem is a petty guy who does not take lightly to being called out without reason.

focus on artem, comedy

who says character studies have to be "serious" all the time? not sam cuz this fic is a frigging HOOT. showcases an artem wing that, under what many think is a wooden sign that says No Fun Allowed, is a person who actually is Very Fun Allowed (Because Of Spite). sam is super great at taking what you "expect" a character to do and then turning that on its head in a way that still completely fits, and that specialty is v much highlighted here!

v much recommend if you want something lighthearted!!

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Penne for your thoughts? by samandspam

"If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with him... The people who give you their food give you their heart." — Cesar Chavez or alternatively: artem makes food for the nxx. a series of three (maybe four) drabbles where artem makes food for marius, vyn, and luke.

focus on all nxx boys, comedy, found family

i like to call this fic "i cant believe pasta counts as therapy!" kJBKJKFGS but rlly, this fic is the 2nd in a series where artem is rlly fucking good at making pasta and each chapter delves into each nxx boys' insecurities or feelings. and then those feelings r met with warmth and comfort and pasta. each chapter shows a rlly wonderful understanding of who the boys are thru what they fear and how to address those fears.

in this fic, you'll get a laugh and also maybe a cry if ur a repressed bastard like me who really kins luke, HAHA. deffo give this a read if u want to feel an ache in ur heart but then like, a hug after that.

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Despite All Odds, It Seems I've Met My Match by sure_galena

Now that she’s facing him — and at a closer distance — Artem notices there’s something familiar about her eyes. He’s used to seeing them each time he looks in the mirror. “Who—” Artem clears his throat, trying to shove away the pinpricks of fear, the snake’s fangs beginning to poke at him. “Who are you?” The woman stops about a meter away from him, keeping a cautious distance between them. “Artemis Wing, senior attorney at Justitia Law Firm. And I’m inclined to ask you the same question.” * Or: after an NXX mission causes Artem to get transported into a parallel universe, he meets the genderbent counterparts of the NXX Investigation Team.

focus on artem, found family

man mAAANNNNN!!! this fic is such a huge fave of mine!!! the artem wing we know and love ends up in a universe where things r the same but Not Really. that in itself had me hooked but then galena goes the extra mile by using this fantastic premise as a way to make artem realize and confront his flaws and fears. that + some rlly cool plot + SO MUCH FOUND FAMILY FEEEELLLSSSSS //SOBS. artem's pov here is exquisite, it's got this solid/strict vibe in how he handles himself but also this like, looping and almost endless questioning of his faults as a person, IT'S SO GREAT TO READ!!!

artem enjoyers, check this fic out!!

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In the end, all I hope for is to be a bit of warmth for you by sure_galena

When Vyn is away on a business trip and needs help with his plants, Luke (and the rest of the NXX crew) end up signing up for more than they thought they would

focus on luke, action, found family

nothing brings a team together than fighting a giant evil plant that vyn supposedly ordered!!! vyn, what the HELL?? but srsly, this fic is wonderful and i love it to bits. galena back at it again with a wonderfully absurd premise and then uses that premise to dissect character and this fic's victim is Luke Pearce. take it from me, self diagnosed luke pearce enthusiast, that this fic is incredible. be it through little quirks luke does with his phone contacts or how he strategizes a battle plan or the thoughts only us readers are privy to in his internal monolog, this fic delivers a LOVELY interpretation of who luke is. all the while telling a very entertaining and well paced story.

im pspspsppspss-ing luke enjoyers, come here, read this fic, it's great!!

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if you enjoy these fics, make sure to support the story with a kudos, comment, and/or bookmark!!!! feedback is the best way to make an author happy :D

[whysoserioussugar]

The first time J and Harley met but from J’s perspective

I absolutely love this prompt and I’ve been saving it for just the right time to try to dig into it because I felt like I could never quite capture it before. I hope you enjoy <3

~~

It was raining in the narrows again, that sharp cutting rain that seeped right through the thin threadbare jacket he wore over today’s garishly patterned lilac shirt. J had never really been one to think himself fashionable, but he really needed to have a talk with Zak about the sorts of things his right hand man deemed appropriate to bring home from the thrift stores.

There was a fine line between the kind of ugly pattern that would make a man blend into the crowd as an unfortunate victim of poor fashion choices, and the kind that made him stand out like an extra sore thumb. Not that J didn’t stand out regardless, but it was really the principle of the thing.

Then again, he wanted to stand out, didn’t he?

Just perhaps not like this.

And yet...

The thought process continued, circled back in on itself in the way that trains of thought always did when a man was this sleep deprived. When the coffee pot in the warehouse was broken, when he needed a hit of something but couldn’t afford to be so distracted from his work.

A bell above the door of the tiny hole in the wall coffee shop chimed as he pushed the heavy wooden door open and shook his thoughts away with the rain that wanted to cling to his stringy hair.

Behind the counter, the little blonde looked up from her cleaning and gave him the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Tired. She looked tired, wary. His eyes searched her, picking apart the world weary bags beneath her eyes. That cynical little voice in the back of his mind concocted a million reasons the empty headed little bitch ...

Was picking him apart right back.

Everything halted at that. Every crisscrossing train that rain through the endless track of his brain suddenly came to a screeching stop. His tongue poked at the scarred insides of his lips to prod his neurons back to life to no avail.

She was looking at him. Seeing him. Him!

There was no fear in those piercing crystalline eyes, either. No hesitation, none of the usual fleeting glances at his scars, none of the shy avoidance he had become so accustomed to. Even as he leaned his palms against the counter and hissed in a breath through his yellowed teeth, she did not even flinch away. Just kept looking at him expectantly in a way that he found both infuriating and intriguing.

“What can I get for you, sir?” The way she asked gave him the impression this was not the first time she had asked. He’d not heard the first.

“Four coffees. Black.”

Even his best efforts to make his voice as cold and abrasive as possible did not deter the smile on her lips from growing at an answer.

He studied her like a bug under a microscope as she bustled about filling his order, still not quite able to form one cohesive thought. Could only think of her. Of those eyes, of the way she had studied him right back without an ounce of...anything. No contempt, no fear. Just patience. Just seeing him. Just...

“Do you want cream or sugar?” she asked, and this time he was at least ready for her.

“What does black imply, sugar?” Maybe he was hoping to get a rise out of her, maybe he was just feeling spitefully cynical because of how she had thrown his straight out of his comfort zone. Either way the pet name had fallen from his lips like a curse and she had blinked at him as though surprised.

And then something happened that he had not expected. Had not seen in longer than he could remember.

She blushed.

Actually blushed. Not the flush of someone caught doing something embarrassing, not the angry red that often colored the faces of his goons when he threatened them and they did not dare talk back. No this was....this was a blush.

He’d not made a woman blush like that since before. Since he was Jack.

There was a pang in his gut, a deep longing. He Wanted her. Wanted to possess her. To make her his. 

Maybe he could have one last thing, one last good thing before everything went to hell.

And when she smiled up at him and he saw that grin actual reach her eyes as she told him to have a good day, he decided he would.

[movedtonewblogcheckpinnedpost]

Jaime's reaction to Brienne being thrown in a pit with a bear is even better when you remember his reaction to Joffrey and Cleos dying lmao

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

mm i see why you dislike captain flint -he's indeed a very punchable bastard. manipulative whore. i want put him through severe torture just because.

i've been rotating james in my mind lately, so here's what's been brewing, fresh out of the brain:

this show really puts meaning to the whole "i want to study him like a bug" thing and i admire it for that.

i want to study this man (james. james, all of him, all of his masks with him too) under a microscope. he fascinates me by simply being layered like a fucking onion and the deeper you go the worse it gets. i wonder what would happen if i put this guy in situations. putting him inside a glass jar then shaking it violently. then leaving milk and cookies by his bedside.

though i do feel sorry for james mcgraw if i'm honest -no one should be left to feel that much shame and internal conflict (the whole closeted experience of james & his "What Will People Think?" is something worth noting imo). and yet he is intelligent enough to craft this elaborate (and well-done) mask for his survival among other pirates. and he actually put up with it for years, the guilt only driving him to destruction, whether that be his own or others. and i now understand why his desire to fuck off to the middle of nowhere was that strong. (the fucking foreshadowing <3) god someone get him to therapy already. does his fucked up onion-layered trauma explain his actions? yes. does it justify them? no. for now, i want him to suffer more.

i was. so wrong about the miranda/james/thomas separation... apologies, and rip to thomas & miranda.

lord ashe had the NERVE to ask james to out himself to the whole of parliament? to go even further and ask him to then repent --in front of those to which he outed himself??

nice to have billy back tho.

fucking hell.

the plotline in this season took turn after turn, loved it. and very much enjoyed the s2 finale.

-🏴‍☠️

Oh my gosh YEAH. Flint is fascinating as all hell and there's so much there to examine and I very much get that instinct lmao, though I tend to get it more for my favs. James McGraw is the version of Flint I'm most sympathetic for and I like the most. And like you said, it explains his actions but it certainly doesn't excuse them. Agreed on the therapy, he and just about everyone else on the show needs it 😂 A solid rip to Thomas and Miranda. I hate Peter and he got what was coming to him, the slimy bastard. He was simultaneously such a coward and had the absolute audacity to claim superiority. Billy! I enjoy him very much lol. The end of season 2 is so good, episode 10 is probably my favorite episode 😅

I'm so glad you enjoyed season 2!!!!

[bellakitse]

catch me a catch [1/?]

Even and Mikael get kicked out of Bakka for a mysterious stunt and transfer to Nissen in the middle of their 3rd year. Even hates everything about it, except for the cute 1st year he’s seen around the school.

Mikael doesn’t hate Nissen and in fact, has taken to amusing himself by spreading wild rumors about why they got kicked out and by the fact that his best friend has a crush on some kid. Still, Even his best buddy and he’s going to help him out.

Even Bech Næsheim stands in the middle of the yard, looks up at the school build like he has for the last two weeks since he transferred to Hartvig Nissen and sighs a heavy, tired sigh. Behind him, he feels his best friend lets out an amused huff.

“How long are you going to keep doing this?” he asks and Even can hear the laughter in his voice. “When are we moving on to the acceptance stage of grief?”

“Never,” he grumbles, and he knows he sounds like a child, but he’s annoyed as a group of 1st-year walk by them. More than one gives him a look, some curious, some interested, some apprehensive. It’s not new, he’s been getting those looks since the moment he stepped foot at this school. Apparently changing schools’ mid-year warranted being studied like a bug under a microscope and hushed whispers. “Do they have to stare so much?” he questions not really expecting an answer yet he hears another sound of amusement. He turns around to face his friend despite himself with a questioning look.

“It’s because you’re so pretty,” Mikael, his best friend, general pain in his ass says with a shit-eating when Even rolls his eyes at him.

“It’s true! With your James Dean hairstyle, your popped collar jacket, and ridiculously good-looking face. Of course, they’re going to stare,” he continues with a mocking sigh as he sympathetically pats Even on the shoulder. “It’s your lot in life buddy, to be stared at and have outrageous rumors being whispered about you, if only you were ugly.”

Even keeps a serious expression even though he wants to give in and smile at his friend’s absurdity. “The rumors are entirely your fault, and you know it. You keep spreading different ones every day about why we got expelled from Bakka, yesterday I heard we put livestock in the teacher’s break room, a goat and some chickens Mika.”

Mikael’s grin only grows at that, a glint in his eye that always makes Even nervous. “I wanted it to be a cow, but it needed to be believable, where would we even get a cow, you know. Today’s rumor will be that we hosted a skinny dipping party in the school’s pool, it was epic, went down in Bakka history.”

Even stares at him, feeling a dull pain behind his left eye, over the years he’s come to call it ‘the Mika pain.' “Why are you doing this? Why are you like this? Are you suffering from delusions? Because we can’t both be messed up in the head, that doesn’t work, and I called dibs on being crazy.”

“It’s a social experiment,” Mikael says easily not even addressing Even’s self-critical comment on his disorder, and he gets a rush of affection and gratitude for his friend who has never once since Even was diagnosed acted any differently towards him. “I’m documenting everything, it’s going to make an excellent movie about gullibility, might even submit it to some festivals.”

“What a shit movie that will be,” Even says, biting his lip to keep from laughing when Mikael lets out a gasp of outrage, hand over his heart like the drama queen he is.

“We all can’t be pretentious assholes like you and your shitty idol,” Mikael taunts back. “Oooh, I’m Even Bech Næsheim, and my favorite director is Baz Luhrmann who makes movies that only make sense if you’re high and always kills off a lead to be edgy.”

Even narrows his eyes at the age-old argument. “How you’re a film student is beyond me.”

“Michael Bay is a cinematic genius.”

Even laughs at that. “You couldn’t even say that with a straight face.”

Mikael nods rubbing his hands over himself as he gives a full body shutter. “It felt dirty just saying it.”

Even opens his mouth to crack a joke at that when he spots him over by the bike rails, sitting on one as he talks with his friends. One of them says something that has him laughing hard and Even is mesmerized as he watches him throw his head back. Tall, slim, in more layers than Even can count, blond hair and the prettiest face Even has ever seen.

“Oi, am I boring you?” he hears Mikael question but he doesn’t turn to his friend, he continues to watch, enthralled by what’s before him.

“Dude, what’s with you?” Mikael asks turning to look in the same direction as Even, and he can tell the moment Mikael spots what has Even attention. “Oh,” Mikael says, amusement coloring his voice once more. “Him again. What is it with you and blondes, first Sonja, now this kid.”

Even shrugs because he doesn’t really know how to explain it, he noticed the boy before on the first day he and Mikael arrived at Nissen, and he hasn’t stopped noticing him since.

“So, are you ever going to make a move?” Mikael questions with a raised eyebrow. “I mean staring at him longingly from afar was cute at the beginning, and by cute, I mean ridiculous and enjoyable for me. But it’s starting to get a little creepy, maybe it’s time to move this along, and I don’t know find out his name? Tell him that his hair shines like the golden sun and that you want to hold his hand.”

“I have a girlfriend,” he argues, and it sounds uncertain even to him. He and Sonja are ‘taking a break,' because in her words he was childish and in his, she was suffocating him. He knows she’s waiting for him to come to his senses and run back to her. With each passing day though, being away from her felt more and more freeing and if that wasn’t a sign that they were better off on their own he didn’t know what was. Sonja had once been an important part of his life, and she deserved better than a boyfriend who was growing resentful of her presence or who was fascinated by beautiful blonde boys.

“Really, Even?” Mikael asks giving him a look of disbelief and Even is reminded once again how well his friend knows him. “That’s what you’re going with. That’s weak man and if you’re honest with yourself, not even true anymore.”

“I can’t just go up to the guy,” Even argues. “What would I even say to him? ‘Hey, I know you don’t know me, but you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from missing my old school, and I like staring at you because you’re the prettiest thing I have ever seen. Any chance you’re into guys or better yet me?’”

Mikael stares at him for a moment before shrugging unconcerned. “Sure, why not.”

Even gives him an incredulous look. “You mean besides the fact that he will probably run away screaming in the opposite direction because that’s crazy?”

“It’s not crazy,” Mikael argues giving him a look because while he lets it slide sometimes, Mikael doesn’t like it when Even uses the ‘C’ word about himself. Throwing his arm over Even’s shoulder, he lets out an annoyed sound as he hangs off Even awkwardly due to their height difference. “It’s a bit extra, but you’re the king of Extra, so it’s right up your alley.”

“I don’t even know his name,” Even says, frowning a little as he says it. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but still being new at Nissen he hadn’t made any new friends.

Not that he has actually gone out of his way to make them when he still has Mikael at his side and the fact that he and his friend have seemed to develop a ridiculous reputation in a short period of time.

“Yeah, you’ve dropped the ball on that one, I admit,” Mikael concedes, smiling when Even gives him a dry look. “But no worries that why you have me. Your best buddy, your ultimate pal, the king of wing-manning.”

“Everything you just said fills me with nothing but worry,” Even says dryly. “Seriously a chill just went down my spine.”

“That’s because you are dramatic as fuck,” Mikael answers honestly, grinning when Even gives him a ‘really’ look. “Now come on, your good old buddy Mikael is going to make it all better and help you woo the cute boy, all I ask is that you name your child after me.”

Even laughs at that, giving his friend’s shoulders a squeeze as the walk into the school with their arms around each other. “So, we’ve moved on from me getting his name to having kids with him.”

“I’m that good,” Mikael proclaims solemnly. “Besides with your looks and my brains, how can we not succeed.”

Even gives him a side look. “Are you saying I’m just a pretty face?”

“Well,” Mikael starts slowly, a grin spreading on his happy face, laughing when Even shoves away from him. “I wasn’t going to say anything, I know how sensitive you can be.”

Even laughs at that. “Asshole.”

“Don’t be rude,” Mikael frowns as they reach Even’s locker, he waits next to it while Even gathers his books. “I’m going to be your, Yente.”

Even closes his locker with a bang as he lets out a snort. “Fiddler on the Roof, really Mika?”

“Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match,” Mikael sings out loudly with a wide grin as a few students sent weird looks their way, nothing new really. “Find me a find.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Even rolls his eyes, grinning as he gives in. “Catch me a catch.”

“Oh, I am buddy,” Mikael promises, signaling with his head. Even looks over to find his blonde boy by his own locker, looking over at them, a clear result of Mikael’s loudness. Even’s eyes lock with the boy’s and even from where he stands Even can see just how green the boy’s eyes are. The boy stares back at him for another moment before he turns away, he’s not fast enough that Even doesn’t catch the blush on his cheeks though, it fills Even with a kind of excitement he can’t remember feeling before. “I’m going to look through my book,” Mikael continues with another broad smile and waggles of his eyebrows, as he misquotes the next line of the song.

Loving his friend for his support and just utter Mikael-ness, Even plays along and says the next line. “And make me a perfect match.”

[sabbathshortstories]

Friend Fiction #28 - Jeremy | Science Fiction

Macey, if you see this, keep in mind that the virus doesn’t end well...

"If you come right this way, Mr. Shepard, we will show you the laboratory," the receptionist guided Stephen through a wide hallway, turning a corner until they approached a door decorated with a few pictures featuring either science puns or Star Wars jokes printed in black and white.

"That's a nice picture of a cat you have there, Ms. Gibson," Stephen said, "I imagine that this laboratory tends to stay in high spirits?"

The receptionist giggled as she rolled her eyes, "they sure try, that much I know."

She opened the door to reveal a handful of men and a couple women peering into microscopes, each occasionally switching to a nearby laptop to type in results. Directly across from the door sat a man, sitting at his desk, seemingly typing away at some important E-mail or possibly looking over past results or even doing some more research on his own. Realizing that he had guests, the man quickly rose from his chair and approached the receptionist and her guest.

"Mr. Shepard, this is Professor Jeremy McManigal, Department Chair of Pyschology," Ms. Gibson announced.

"Pleased to meet ya," Professor McManigal gave an enthusiastic hand shake. His crooked smirk was mildly comforting for Stephen, "Sorry if you were expecting something a little bit more, we don't get much for funding."

"All I was expecting was a bigger room with more test tubes," Stephen laughed. Professor McManigal laughed too.

"Well," he sighed, "either way, we're glad that you were willing to make it all the way out here."

"It's not much of an issue at all," Stephen scoffed. "I must say that your pitch was a bit... Amusing..."

"The whole thing about doing away with greed?" Professor McManigal's grin widened, "Just wait til you hear the whole thing. Here, let me get Doctor Nguyen."

"Doctor who?"

Professor McManigal jumped across the hallway to knock on a metal door. When it opened it up, Professor McManigal ushered its denizen back into the lab room, excitedly fidgeting as he introduced his colleague, "this is Doctor Mason Nguyen, Professor of Microbiology here at BCU."

Doctor Nguyen reluctantly shook Stephen's hand, seemingly annoyed to have had his work interrupted. Dark bags drooped under his eyes.

"It seems that you have more to explain about your laboratory's goals?

Doctor Nguyen sighed, "Yeah, so what's happening is we're working on a retrovirus-"

"Now I know that sounds bad!" Professor McManigal inerected, holding his hands out to indicate that he wanted Stephen to wait, "but it makes sense in the long run."

"The retrovirus is primarily intended to rework the subjects genetic code. No sickly results are anticipated," Doctor Nguyen continued, seemingly bored as if he's had to repeat this spiel many times over.

"Here comes the best part," Professor McManigal's mouth stood agape from his excited smile.

"The aim is to replace a specific set of G alleles in an individuals with AA alleles," Doctor Nguyen sighed. "Said AA alleles promote more oxytocin-"

"The 'cuddle hormone', if you will."

"... Oxyctocin receptors within the subject's neurological pathways. Multiple studies have found that individuals with these AA alleles, and as a result, higher oxytocin receptor content, exhibited more pro-social behavior with a higher tendency to think of others more than themselves."

"Could you bring that into Lehman's terms?" Stephen asked.

"Basically, we're programming these little tiny bugs to rewire the human brain to be less greedy!"

Stephen let out a modest, breathy laugh, "I must say that does sound like an exciting concept. I'm not much of a man of science, but if you can undo one of the seven deadly sins within mankind, I might put some more faith into it. How much money will you be needing? I don't know if I can supply." He reached into his back pocket for his checkbook.

"That won't be necessary," Professor McManigal said. "We're not looking for money so much as resources."

"Resources?"

"We can't start off with human trials, and your ranch seems to be the perfect, isolated location start off, whether it's your animals or not."

"And if I refuse?"

"We won't come after you," he confidently smiled.

"Don't have enough resources," said Doctor Nguyen.

"It would be a hindrance, though," McManigal's smile faded slightly. "We'll find our resources one way or another. You wouldn't be the first to turn us down, and we doubt you'd be the last. But we're determined. All we're asking is that you take a leap of faith..."

He said it. The F word. The one that made Stephen Shepard edge that much closer to actual consideration. Professor McManigal held out his hand.

"You'll have the location. This college laboratory doesn't serve you well," Stephen gripped Professor McManigal's hand and shook it. "We'll have to see about the animals."

"That's all we ask, Mr. Shepard," McManigal's smile grew wide again. "Baby steps."

[reginaidiotarum]

A GIRL

I see how silly it was for me to title my last piece, “A Girl In A Boy’s Bod,” It was always just *my* body. It was a piece I wrote in distress at coming to my mother in distress and having that turn in on me. Having the conversation yanked right out from underneath me and the desperation of just being a voice in pain. It has been a full ten years now, since I wrote that, and I still have not read it since that night. It is too painful for me.

I have come a long way since that night. My world torn from underneath my feet. It was as though reality had slipped away. I knew it was pain. Terrible pain, but I never knew the course, just the correlation with certain things. I had said three words, and that was that. How dangerous the notion? I felt considerable pain all the time, a deep, psychological pain that were *as* intense as one of those medieval torture devices could muster. And I knew what lessened that pressure, and I knew what intensified it.

But this what never the argument people wanted to hear. This was an affront to their world view. They were blinded by faith and lost all semblance of reality. They would make fun of me, stand in my way, question if I was insane. All sympathy was lost in a clinical language and I languished in pain for years waiting for people to care enough about me to understand why I had tossed my life away with three words.

Prove to me you are not mad they said. How can I prove a negative? It makes no goddamn sense.

But I tried.

Here are my results:

First, I needed to study philosophy. If I have to answer an impossible question, I might as well understand the science of asking questions.  Dan McCullough's “Out of the Cave” is my primary source for this stuff. He’s an amazing teacher and he distilled the arguments from many philosophical debates. Well, I came away from that knowing that using Synthetic *A Priori* (Assuming things) probably won’t get you very far to understanding something. Basically what I already knew, you can’t prove a negative.

But, what if you could?

Douglas Hofstadter wrote an amazing book about knowledge and understanding. He does this by analyzing human thought looking for all the little bugs. The mistakes we make, and understanding the code of the brain like that how you can watch that buggy Pokemon TAS to get a better understanding of how Nintendo games were made. His examples are MC Escher, famous for subverting the illusion of art to confuse human identification process, Bach, notable for playing with Shepard Tones and key stacks to leave different audio impressions.

(I tried to hear it myself, but I fear my partial childhood deafness left me with the inability to process music psychologically. I can hear it, but I am musically illiterate. But, I understood it through the descriptions of others. I looked at the patterns on the screen to see if I could understand it like that, but they just looked like mountains and valleys to me.

Kōsei Arima from Your Lie In April is a pretty good example of how I feel when trying to understand music, though his illiteracy is as a result of strong abuse associated with the process leading to pain whereas I just kinda hear key changes like they are blurry and indistinct.)

And Kurt Godel, who demolished the Principalia Mathematica by creating a little program using the logic therein to call for logic not contained inside.

Hofstadter uses these subjects to make a guess about human thought process so we can make artificial intelligences. He comes to the conclusion that knowledge is gained precisely by trying to assert a negative. He told the story about how all the mathematicians were super afraid of of testing Euclid’s Parallel Postulate and just kinda assumed there was proof of it. Like, two lines that are not parallel have to intersect somewhere, right? If it didn’t the entire system would fall apart.

Lewis Carrol, another influence of Hofstadter, dreams of a world of madness without this fifth postulate. In his ignorance of never trying Carrol’s imagination got the better of him. But, in the end, it was just hyperbola.

Two lines that never intersect, right there. A Hyperbola. Heck, it might even be one line, a parabola. Non-Euclidean isn’t nearly as scary as Lovecraft painted it out to be. In my experience treading into the unknown never reveals horrors, but the woefully mundane.

Assume you are wrong, and try yourself. It’s amazing. I had a lot of help trying my ideas against the nice people over at /r/GenderCritical. They were motivated by a fear of me that made them react to me with extreme rigor. I figured I’d entertain their debates long enough to feel them slip past the point of rationality or good faith, and give up. Here was the evidence I complied during this time.

If there is a heuristic approach to the universe, it’s science. Never assuming what is real, merely testing things, and recording the results. The scientists never sound confident, but when has confidence ever been a sign of wisdom? See, the scientists observe something. And, then they seek to understand it. They have a very pragmatic approach. They take a list of ideas as to what might be going on, and then arrange them based on what they have come up with as the most likely scenarios, and then they see if they can devise a test that they could iterate through to the point where it’d be improbable not to do.

Heck, sometimes you come up with a theory that can have a positive aspect to it. Zhou had a theory that “transsexuals” (Kind of an ugly word, makes it seem like we are motivated by sex), were experiencing a hormonal condition and neural biology. Early dissections of men’s brains and women’s brains showed slight differences. Things like longer dendrites on certain cells. The amount of neurons was fixed, but the structure of them was different. Zhou had decided to test various trans people, and he found that trans people had the structure of their gender identity, at least in some cases. Some people claimed that HRT spoiled the pot, so there have been experiments since then that have controlled for that.

“But that’s one person.” I only need one positive example to assert that it the possibility is true. And with the the GCers couldn’t touch me anymore, and they would have to deny empirical evidence itself. The continuity of the universe to continue arguing this point.

Well, I have an experiment that I could run. Well, it was not a good one because it would involve cutting open my head.

Maybe if I understood how this whole “brain” thing worked, I could see if I could find yet another test. So I studied neural networks. Mathematical simulations based on the neurons in the head.

So, we have known about the structure of the neuron for a while. Observed it under microscopes. We found that each neuron was structured in the same way. A bunch of fingers on one side, a pool in the middle, and a long tube on the other, sometimes with fat between them. (The layer of fat, an insulator layer, works like capacitors and allows the transfer of electrons through the space to shift the saline in the next segment of the cell into the next “drum” of fatty tissues. Makes for lightning fast transfer speed on those cabling neurons or input neurons)

They basically take data from the previous batch of cells, or in the case of certain cells, chemicals nearby. Convert that data into sodium or chlorine using pumps, and create a voltage level using the PH of the cell as a battery. These trigger a feedback function with another set of pumps to decimate the voltage and bring it to a normalized output for the next set of cells. Genius eh?

They use feedback loops, and the fingers, the dendrites, grow or shrink based on various forms of chemicals in the brain. Zhou’s work seemed to imply the the dendrites of these BSTc cells got seeded to their position during the third trimester of pregnancy, and laid dormant until puberty shifted them.

One neuron can provide the logic for AND, OR, NOT, ADD, SUBTRACT due to the pumps used. Two layers of neurons can give you an XOR, and after layers and layers of these, you have a heuristic sort program that can basically process any data.

So, we know there are cells there, and the are permanently affixed to one position. No amount of meditation or forced feedback can make those little suckers grow to my body, and I fear disrupting the processes of the neural network to try a hard-reset on them. It seems that my hormone levels are being reported in my brain through these cells, and the experience is pain.

Eureka, I had it.

I just needed to test it for myself.

This is where I’m going to say I engaged in a bit of mad science. I know how dangerous it is, but I’m dealing with finitude here, and if this is my one life, I’m going to make the best of it. I decided to see if changing my hormones took my pain away.

I also knew what the results of HRT would do to me, and so I asked for a new name and adopted pronouns of my new hormone levels. I knew not long into my treatment, significant changes would occur.

I could do it by taking a common diuretic that could suppress my natural testosterone count, and appending my estrogen levels with estridiol, a hormone already in use by many post-menopausal women and women taking birth control. Neither are radical or hard to get drugs. Neither are kept in pharmacies purely for my sole benefit to say the least.

I hunted around and selected my doctors. I didn’t want gatekeepers for this experiment, I wanted enablers. I knew that if my problem wasn’t hormonal, I’d have 6 months to cease treatment before any changes had occurred.

I didn’t last a week on the the treatment until I called it an amazing success. You know that video of the color blind guy wearing glasses that allow him to see color for the first time? It was like that for me for everything.

My pain was gone, and for the first time, I felt like I could see the world for how beautiful it was.

It was true then. I have been a girl this entire time. But, what did it all mean?

[makingscipub]

Making microbes public: A workshop report

This is a post by Carmen McLeod who participated in a workshop held at the University of Oxford  on 3/4 May 2017 entitled Making Microbes Public. She wrote the original post for the blog of the Interdisciplinary Microbiome Project and it has been reposted here with permission. Carmen is a social anthropologist currently based in the Nottingham Synthetic Biology Research Centre (before that she was part of our Making Science Public programme!). She is moving to the University of Oxford in June 2017 to work on the Good Germs/Bad Germs project and the Oxford Interdisciplinary Microbiome Project (IMP). I am really looking forward to collaborating with the people involved in this project and visiting Carmen in Oxford!

***

Stories about the human microbiome are increasingly being reported in the media and many people –  myself included – are fascinated by the relationship between humans and the microscopic ‘bugs’ that live on, in, and around us. I was part of a workshop last week, where a group of interdisciplinary scholars explored this relationship under the theme of ‘Making Microbes Public’.

The workshop began with an afternoon keynote presentation from microbiologist Anne Madden, who was fresh from delivering a TED talk in Vancouver on ‘bugs and bodies’. Anne gave us a frontline view of the work of scientists working with microbes and especially those who closely collaborate with industry partners. Anne describes herself as a ‘microbe wrangler’ and she focusses on how to harness the positive attributes of microbes and apply these in practical ways that will benefit humans.

The next day, we started with a session on ‘Microbes in Society’, and presentations from three anthropologists. Alex Nading began by introducing us to the bureaucratic routines that are part of the day-to-day biopolitics of food sanitation in Nicaragua. He provided a detailed and nuanced account of the interactions between bureaucrats and citizens that occurs during the food handling certification process. Food workers must undergo a blood test and provide a stool sample for analysis and this process is caught up in different layers of informal cultural practices and formal legal requirements. Alex’s narrative of the Nicaraguan public hygiene system reveals how social relations, understandings about microbes, and bureaucracy become intertwined.

Another anthropologist, Amber Benezra, took us on a fascinating journey which linked the work of scientists in North America to the daily life of poorer people living in Dhaka. This presentation revealed there is a problem when microbial science focusses on a ‘technological fix’ such as probiotics for malnutrition, when infrastructure problems such as open drains and other health sanitation issues also need to be addressed. It seems that by working closely with scientists, anthropologists can help resolve some of the disconnections between the laboratory and the realities of everyday life problems. But Amber also raised the question of who holds scientists to account especially when biological science aims to solve problems which are beyond the scope of ‘the biological’.

The third presentation, was from Eben Kirksey who introduced us to bacteria called wolbachia.  This is an extremely common parasitic species that lives in insects. This species can reorganise the bodies of their hosts at the microbial level, including changing the sex of their hosts. Interestingly, the ubiquitous and sheer numbers of wolbachia in the world, challenges the notion of heteronormative sex.  Eben left us to consider a potential future where polyamorous and promiscuous bacteria like wombachia could survive well beyond human life.

The second session of the day was called ‘Doing Microbiology with Citizens’. This began with Jamie Lorimer and Tim Hodgetts outlining their research on the Good Germs/Bad Germs project. They have been exploring the domestic microbiome through the development of a participatory approach to microbiology. This project involves households in Oxford, going on a ‘kitchen safari’, where participants and the researchers have worked together to design experiments on kitchen microbiomes. Findings from the research suggest it is challenging to move beyond thinking about microbes as pathogens. There has also been positive feedback from some participants who have felt empowered by their involvement in the research design and data collection.

Claire Waterton then provided an overview of her research on the impact of algae (cyanobacteria) blooms on a Lake District community. This interdisciplinary project is tracing the relationship between the microbial organisms who live in the lake and the human residents living alongside it. We heard about how it was difficult to assign blame for the cause of the algae blooms, due to the complex natural and human systems that are in the area. The project set up a collective which enabled different stakeholders’ viewpoints to be incorporated into a complex, and sometimes uncomfortable, debate about community life on the lake.

The next presentation, from social and cultural geographer Emma Roe, described her work engaging health professionals in hand hygiene practices. This research used experimental methods to map the movement of microbes in a hospital setting, including asking two nurses to put UV powder on their gloves and then carry out some routine activities in a ‘mock ward’.  Under UV light, all the places that were touched could be mapped. And it turned out that in a 4 minute bed chance, there are over 200 moments of touch! Emma’s research team have produced a video which encourages health professionals to ‘keep washing, keep caring’.

The final presentation before lunch included a gastronomical experience, where we were able to taste a number of fermented yeast products. Josh Evans, who will be coming to Oxford in the fall to commence his doctoral studies, talked about the relationship we have with microbes through food. He explained how fermentation can be understood as a collaboration between humans and microbes. Josh has been working at the Nordic Food Lab in Copenhagen where some ‘convivial experiments’ relating to fermentation techniques are taking place between chefs and scientists (and microbes!) We were given two liquids to taste as well as a teaspoon of dark paste. Although some of us were a bit unsure about tasting these concoctions, they turned out to be rather interesting. (I especially liked the elder vinegar made from fermented elder berries).

After feeding ourselves (and our microbes) at lunch, we had an afternoon of presentations relating to aesthetic interactions between humans and microbes, and science and art, called ‘Microbial Sense-making’. Microbiologist Simon Park explained his interest in ‘microgeography’ which involves using a portable microscope to examine traces left behind of microbial and human interactions within urban environments. Simon has also worked with several artists, such as JoWOnder and Sarah Roberts, to produce microbial art. These artworks incorporate the activities of live bacteria into their creation.

Simon and artist Sarah Craske were then interviewed by Charlotte Sleigh to give us a window of understanding into the process behind producing a series of pieces called Metamorphoses. This intriguing project involved taking an antique (18thC) book and applying a range of scientific and artistic techniques to it. The interview revealed how exciting and truly interdisciplinary this type of project can be. It also revealed some anxieties during the creative process, such as deciding whether to move from non-destructive to destructive analysis of the book. The project also raised questions about the agency of bacteria, and also thinking about whether we can have an ‘ethical relationship’ with microbes.

The final presentation of the workshop was from Adam Bencard, who is a curator at the Copenhagen Medical Museum. Adam provided us with an overview of the preparations that went into a new exhibition called ‘Mind the Gut’ which considers the link between the gut microbiome and the mind. This exhibition has developed through an ‘experiment in co-curation’, involving a mix of artists and scientists, which involved a lengthy planning process over many months. The exhibition itself follows an untraditional format where different rooms are based around ‘action symbols’ or themes that reflect gut/brain relationships at different times. One of the aims of the exhibition is to display the body as ‘messy’ and complex, and to also demonstrate how science itself is an unfinished project. The exhibition will run for at least 3-4 years and is a must see for anyone travelling to Copenhagen!

Image: Bacteria (free download)

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