smallbutdeadlyspoons

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

This stopped me from spiraling earlier today. It's absolutely amazing I love it.

Take a break, this cute tardigrade needs time to cross your dash:

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Just a small nugget to add to the growing list of posts and in this case blogs that make me really happy.

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“Authors should not be ALLOWED to write about–” you are an anti-intellectual and functionally a conservative

“This book should be taken off of shelves for featuring–” you are an anti-intellectual and functionally a conservative

“Schools shouldn’t teach this book in class because–” you are an anti-intellectual and functionally a conservative

“Nobody actually likes or wants to read classics because they’re–” you are an anti-intellectual and an idiot

“I only read YA fantasy books because every classic novel or work of literary fiction is problematic and features–” you are an anti-intellectual and you are robbing yourself of the full richness of the human experience.

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My favorite Tolkien illustrations by Cor Blok in no particular order:

Bilbo and Gollum. Bilbo is the moon for some reason which is cool i guess

Smeagol and Deagol. I love the seaweed in the background, great attention to detail

Frodo serving Robin Hood-realness at his and Bilbo’s birthday party. Literally iconic

Isildur taking the ring from Sauron. Its great but I would like to see more of Sauron than just his hand, because I think he has the potential to look really cool

Pippin jumping into the bath at Crickhollow… no comment

Bilbo gives the Mithril coat to Frodo. Great poses, very stiff and awkward. I like it.

The fellowship. This one is a classic.

Gandalf and the balrog. Amazing

Boromir trying to take the ring from Frodo. I love the way he reaches for his sword, it looks very natural

Merry and Pippin and Treebeard. I like his legs and the fact that it looks like he’s wearing shorts.

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Actually holy shit birds are so fucking cool.

I have some chickens that are supposed to be somewhere around 2 ft tall that's a huge fucking bird.

But also birds are easy to selectively breed too. And depending on the breed can be a better source of protein than bigger animals because they consume less feed and water.

Also they are just so fucking weird I know like 3 geese who would try and kill me if I came within an meter of them. I haven't done shit to them they are just angry. On the other hand, I have a few crows who will trade me shiney things for bits cheese. To round it out, I have met many chickens who are morally ambiguous and are just as likely to come up and beg for pets as they are to escape and commit arson.

Then you have the whole thing where both a turkey and a sparrow are birds and like holy shit.

B i r d s

a m I r i g h t ?

So to conclude

Fuck yeah birds

the world is full of joy, and whimsy. sure, it's full of other stuff too, but it's important to acknowledge and appreciate the good things as they come

for example, I saw a bird today.

and like, holy shit.

pretty cool

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

dangerous habits

(eleventh doctor x reader)

time for more unabashed crushing on Matt Smith’s Doctor! i’m sort of a sucker for pet names (in the right context, of course) and Eleven’s offhand habit of calling things sweet names usually has me blushing a bit, so of course i had to write about it, because that’s how fanfiction works, and i really, really like him, sometimes against my better judgement. hopeless romantic, me. 

author’s rec while you read: i had bad habits by ed sheeran running through my head the entire time i was coming up with a title, go figure. if that’s not your bowl of rice then anything that makes you happy will bop just fine. :) 

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Keep reading

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

*gasp* Another!

This author is incredibly talented and I love the all works they put out.

@social-mockingbird you are fantastic!

dangerous habits

(eleventh doctor x reader)

time for more unabashed crushing on Matt Smith’s Doctor! i’m sort of a sucker for pet names (in the right context, of course) and Eleven’s offhand habit of calling things sweet names usually has me blushing a bit, so of course i had to write about it, because that’s how fanfiction works, and i really, really like him, sometimes against my better judgement. hopeless romantic, me. 

author’s rec while you read: i had bad habits by ed sheeran running through my head the entire time i was coming up with a title, go figure. if that’s not your bowl of rice then anything that makes you happy will bop just fine. :) 

____________

Keep reading

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

Found a small nugget of gold for when I'm feeling shity. Thank you @11thsdoctress!

“May I?” [Eleventh Doctor / Reader]

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 1400+

Summary:  Running away from the leader’s guards and risking both of the Doctor and your life was one thing, taking away the Doctor’s companion, his best girl is another.

Author’s Note:  This wasn’t a request, however I just wanted to write an idea I had, where the Doctor was kissing every bruise and fixing you up-

in short, self-indulgent, but enjoy-

This isn’t what you imagined when you wanted to have a peaceful adventure with The Doctor.

Both of you had planned to visit the planet of green hills and pink skies, covered in grass that was soft and fresh, and it was the right amount of brightness, and it was just the right amount of warmth. Honestly, everything that was planned was perfect and nice, and you were looking forward to it, after all, it was a way to spend time with the Doctor, just without the life-risking chases and the near-death experiences.

Everything was fine, well, was.

Currently, you were trying to adjust your eyesight to the dim and dull room, you tried to speak, but you were gagged. All you remember is that you and the Doctor had to make a stop in a nearby planet since there was a distress signal from them, you were suspicious from the signal and the lack of details of the being that sent the signal, to the point it started a slight argument with the Doctor which made both of you giving the silent treatment to each other, although it hurt in doing so, and when the Doctor does most of the talking, you were separated from the Doctor as they were taking him to talk with the leader of the planet. Next thing you know, you were waiting next to the TARDIS, then you were ambushed and blacked out.

Looking around the dim room, the walls had small scribbles on them, the floor had some padding to it, and the ceiling only had one flickering light hanging on. You tried to sit up, and as you did, you feel a tug on your neck, you realized that your neck was chained to the wall, you tried to budge and tried to escape the collar, but all you did was slightly tire yourself and some new bruises forming on your neck. You tried countless more attempts to break free of the restraints, but in your efforts in doing so, now you hear someone unlocking the door, a silhouette of an alien-looking being, holding some few tools with it.

Now you were getting scared, not knowing the alien’s intention, all you can do now is hope that the Doctor will notice your disappearance and will come to save you.

After countless beatings, newly formed bruises, and a few cuts here and there, you were fighting just to stay conscious, but at the same time, hoping to pass out, so the alien wouldn’t keep hitting you with it’s devices and various tools nearby.

You decided to play dead, in an effort to trick the alien to leave, which worked, leaving you alone in the dungeon, after you hear the footsteps fading away in the hall, you opened your eyes and decided to sit up and leaned against the wall. Looking at yourself, there were bruises and cuts around your body and everything started to hurt even more as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

Now, you definitely want to pass out, just to not feel the pain from all the beating, and as soon as you lay down and try to let go, you hear a familiar whirr and buzz, the door swung open, revealing a sweating and worried Doctor, before slowly passing out.

<======================>

Running away from the leader’s guards was one thing, taking away the Doctor’s companion, his best girl is another.

The Doctor was annoyed that he had argued with you, and with the leader of the planet practically forcing him to be his date for the royal ball, it just fueled his annoyed state even more, knowing that he rejected and declined her offer several times.

It was all irritating until the leader accidentally brought up the topic of capturing you, which made the Doctor rage, demanding to set you free, but the leader wouldn’t budge and still insisted on the date, he refused and ran, on the mission of finding you.

At first, he was occupied with looking for you and formulating a plan of escape, but then he started to think about what could have done to you while he was busy, his two hearts were racing even more, hoping that you were at least alive and hopefully unharmed. 

As he reached the dungeons, he carefully snuck past some hallways, making sure he didn’t get caught, and grabbing his sonic screwdriver, he unlocked the door, revealing your barely conscious state, making his two hearts sink.

He hurriedly carried you and made his way back to the TARDIS, it was smooth sailing until he was stopped by the leader and her guards, but before they could speak, the Doctor, with a stoic, and rage-filled face, “If you stop me right now, I will assure you, the next time I see one of you, I will make you pay for what you have done to my human.” his voice did not match his previous cheerful and sometimes sarcastic tone.

This sentence made the group freeze as the Doctor hissed and walked past them quickly, not caring if they had something to say, all that matters to him now, was you.

He had set you down on the bed in the infirmary, before using his sonic screwdriver to scan for injuries, bit by bit, The Doctor was patching your unconscious body, it worries him that you haven’t woken up, but he was slightly relieved now that you were in his sight and still alive.

Opening your eyes, you were greeted with bandages around your arms, and you felt some bandages on your stomach and legs as well, looking around, you recognized that it was the infirmary in the TARDIS, as you were about to get out of bed, the Doctor arrived with a glass of water.

“Oi, don’t get out of bed, you need some rest.” he helps you back in the bed, with you, leaning against the headboard of the bed, “How are you feeling?” 

“A bit better, thank you,” you say quietly,

“I’m sorry I took my eyes off of you and left you alone, I should’ve known.” he looks away as he felt guilty for putting you in that spot.

“No need to apologize, Doctor,” you reassured him as you reach out to hold his hand,

He looks at you, you could see the pain in his eyes as he looks at your bandages and bruises,

“What have they done to you?” his voice was a bit shaky now, as his hand was brushing lightly over your cheek and neck, “May I? Do something to make up for my mistakes?” he asked as he looks at you, you nodded, not knowing what he’ll do next. 

He nods and goes close to your neck, lightly kissing every bruise that was on your neck, as his hand was still on your cheek and gently caressing your face as he was continuing, carefully making sure he wasn’t accidentally hurting you.

You blushed hard and gave him a bit more space for him to do what he wanted to do, and you weren’t complaining,

After a while, he stopped and goes back to look at you, “I was scared that I could’ve lost you, and I would’ve lost the chance to tell you something important.”

“What would that be, Doctor?” you could feel his nervousness in his words.

“T-that I-i love and care about you so much, I don’t know what I’d do if you died.” he closed his eyes and shakes himself out from the grim thought as he sighs, “I don’t know if you love me, but all that matters now is that-”

You cut him off by grabbing his collar and suddenly kissing him, he whimpered at first before kissing back as aggressively as you did.

You pulled away to catch your breath, “Doctor, the feeling’s mutual, so stop worrying and fussing over nothing, you raggedy man.” 

“Alright.” he smiled as he leaned his forehead against yours as he held your hands, “But from now on, you’re not leaving me or my sights.” 

“Not a chance, Doctor, not a chance in time, but you owe me some time alone with you.” 

“Darling, sweetheart, love, you have me for the rest of time and existence.” He said as he pecked your nose, making you both giggle, and he leans his head on your lap as the TARDIS was just drifting in space, making you two have your own world, your hand in his, and his hand in yours.

========

Author’s Note: MAN- there’s so many scenarios to write about, so think of this story as one of the backburners that I wanted to delete, but I love the concept of the Doctor kissing your bruises so yeah, hope you enjoyed reading!

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

Sometimes, I would kill to be a potato.

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when she says she doesn’t send nudes

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“How was I supposed to know what’s real and what’s not? It feels like I’m the only one who doesn’t know the difference.”

— Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

Oh...

this is very helpful I'm going to need it

Here’s the list that I found earlier. Maybe it’ll come in handy?

oh my thank you vv much !!! aaaaa even if we dont need quite a few of them it’s still helpful!

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

how you get the girl pt. 2 | bucky barnes x reader

Pairing: bucky barnes x adopted!carter!reader

Warnings: happy ending/the aftermath of sharon and steve chaos/wanda being a good friend/bad editing?

Summary: You never would have guessed that you'd be picking out an engagement ring.

A/N: inspired by how you get the girl, taylor swift. i am so so sorry!! This took way longer to write, than I thought it would. I hope it turned out okay! I also mention a reporter named, Chloe, its fun little reference to Chloe Sullivan from Smallville. xoxo

It's quiet for daylight hours, peaceful, but you would be lying if you didn't have to leave the television on Sabrina the Teenage Witch replays for the hours after dark as you settled into the front room fort. Until later in the early morning, when Bucky left his cot on the floor to start the coffee. The lake house as Bucky explained was a quiet place to retreat in between the buzz of missions. 

“You should call her.” Bucky says from behind you. 

“I should, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. I’m just letting her know I’m alive.” You reason, crossing and uncrossing your arms. “Oh gosh. What if she hates me?” 

You’ve been standing in front of the landline in a daze. A child’s game of to call to not call. You ran a hand over your stomach hoping to ease the knots that tighten at the thought of your closest friend hating you.  

“She doesn't hate you. She’ll be glad to know you’re okay.” Bucky reassures and squeezes your hand gently. “I’ll be out on the dock if you need me.” 

You wait until the door closes with a soft thud behind him to pick up the phone. His gentleness erupts a plethora of butterflies from the pit of your stomach to the chin of your rib cage. He cuts your sandwiches into star shapes with a butter knife and never slams a door shut in the heat of a moment. 

You punch out her number and hold the receiver to your ear, inhaling and exhaling with the dial tone ringing through the hundred miles between you and her. 

 “Hello?” Wanda’s voice cracks through the static and you feel the weight from the wedding briefly lift from your shoulders.

“Wanda,” You sigh into the receiver. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” She asks breathlessly, the simple question is enough for the tears pricking your eyes to slide the downhill slope of your cheeks. 

“No,” You sniffle and Wanda listens through your sniffles as you stutter through the beginning of your relationship with Steve and after the engagement everything becomes muddled so quickly with the growing presence of Sharon. 

You’re a waterfall of thank you’s and I love you’s as she offers to discreetly send you and Bucky some clothes and other necessities. You return the phone to its stand on the wall and leave the house, you’re floating instead of dragging heavy footfalls to stand beside Bucky on the dock. 

The next day you received your purse and two suitcases. You abandon your phone in the junk drawer quickly after unpacking it. The reeling of Sharon's formal statement and a grainy video of you escaping on the back of Bucky's motorbike is trending across multiple platforms, the consistent pinging of notifications killing the slow hum of country air. 

You save the video to your camera roll because you love how bad-ass you look seated behind Bucky.  Bucky had loosened his tie before hopping on the bike and when you blew out of the church parking lot, the scrap of fabric was three sheets to the wind into the camera that shot the video. The theatrics of your getaway excite you, unlike the screeching sound of pit forks sharpening as the media bares their teeth in the comment section. 

You couldn't believe Sharon, some mother protecting her side piece before her daughter. The headlines are more ridiculous than the last. You see glances of headliners when you throw out the trash because Bucky tries to swipe the paper each morning before you get up. In its place is a crossword magazine, Bucky starts the puzzle and it becomes your job to finish it. 

Runaway Bride Couldn’t Run Fast Enough

Bridezilla On The Loose

Rogers Is Unanimously Backed By Fans

"You can't ignore them forever. I tried that, remember?" Bucky reminds, sliding you a mug of hot chocolate, one of the limiting snacks that clothed the near bare cabinets of the kitchen.

"You're never wrong, are you?" You ask, blowing steam away from the mug, drops of chocolate fly from the mug and splatter onto the wood counter.

"Can't say it happens too often." Bucky replies with a shrug, wetting a paper towel and cleans the surface for you.

"Thank you." You mumble, following Bucky into the pantry where he disposes of the towel in the trash can.

"It's nothing." He brushes off, studying the bare shelves. 

"It's not nothing Buck." You insist, feeling the strain of the dance you’ve been rehearsing around each other. 

You lean against the doorframe of the pantry, as Bucky leans back against the shelves.

"We can order pizza again, unless you feel like skipping supper. One, or both of us, will need to go into town for more food or we could go back to your place and face the music?" Bucky tips his head back, eyes closing and if you weren't standing in a pantry you could’ve guessed he was lounging in a hammock.

You didn't like either of those options but you knew he was right. The first night Bucky tried to go into town to re-stock, and you all but barricaded the door. You didn't want to be left alone. The silence was deafening but on the street it was almost worse, the sideways glances of onlookers stuck to your skin like bad perfume. 

"We can't hide here forever, can we?" You ask lamely, your sock tapping the wood floor in an unmatched rhythm. 

"Unfornately." Bucky reaffirms, reaching out his hand to you. 

You accept his hand and walk further into the pantry, straight into Bucky's chest. You inhale deeply, lavender clings to his neck, from the body wash he was able to recover from the master bathroom. 

He hesitates but wraps both arms behind your back pulling you closer. Your arms in turn circle around his back. With Bucky everything seems so simple, even if the circumstances which brought you into his arms were far from it. You couldn’t help falling into a comfortable routine of domestic house chores. You want to always fold his black henley and falcon socks, one of your proudest gag gifts you bestowed to Buck on his birthday. You only want Bucky to fix your breakfast and start your crossword puzzles. 

"Doll." He whispers, you look up and his blue eyes lock with your own. 

You never thought you would see the blue side of the sky again. Bucky always did wear things better.

Steve once said his favorite color was blue, but you knew it was more of a cerulean blue, like Peggy Carter's old uniform coat blue or the deep blue of Sharon Carter's eyes. Blue. Blue. Blue.

Your eyes were not blue, they were y/e/c. You never thought much about the color of your eyes, until Bucky looked at you and his pupils' reflections of yours were heavy with a warm glow. 

"I'm going to kiss you. I mean, I want to kiss you. Wait, can you kiss me?" Buck stumbles, he huffs in frustration throwing his head back to hit it against the shelf.

"That hurt." He groans.

"Which part?" You tease, gently rubbing the back of his head.

"The former more than the later." He winces, but leans into your touch.

"I think I got the gist and... yes, you can kiss me or I can kiss you, whichever you prefer." You reassure, tossing him a wide tooth grin.

He wants me, you think, preening at the revelation.

Bucky leans over you, breath fanning over your lips and when he slides his top lip over your bottom it gently sends tingles straight through your body making your toes curl, causing you to lean closer into Bucky. He pulls away and then pecks your lips once more.

"Let’s go home." He proposes, then he places a sweet kiss on your shoulder before leaving you in the pantry heading for the landline to call for pizza.

I step out of the pantry, my lips curving into a smile at his lips cracking in a smile as he dials the number, his steps lighter while he paces during his request for extra cheese.

You sigh in admission and go to the junk drawer to dig out your phone and charger. 

+ + +

Wanda passes you the contact to a local reporter in New York, CHLOE. Wanda vouches for the scrappy reporter climbing the ranks of the small news outlet. 

"What kind of reporter doesn’t have a last name?" Bucky ever the skeptic, questions. 

Wanda rolls her eyes, explaining,"She has a last name, Barnes. She uses her first strictly for professional purposes, hence why it's in all caps. It's for emphasis and appeal."

Bucky lets it go but stalks away mumbling about the use of his last name.

You do the interview and true to her reputation, she charms you with a warm smile and her promise to respect the boundaries you set before the interview. If you don't feel comfortable answering a question, she moves on to the next one and doesn't make a point of pressing you.

When you asked why she didn't, she vaguely described her personal experience with crossing too many lines in the past and was doing it right now, thanks to an old friend.

Fair point.

"It's up." Bucky chimes, he's sitting on your sofa, your shared sofa. 

The past few months he's spent more time at your apartment. You keep the crossword puzzles and hot chocolate packets but leave the rumors and hurtful comments in the lobby. 

He lifts the tablet over his head to you. You swap and he grabs the mug of hot chocolate from you and you take the tablet. A notification chirps and you see Wanda has already shared the article through all her social accounts. Another chirp and you click on the banner, when you see a familiar name.

"You have Twitter." You sputter, as you walk around the sofa and fall into the cushion beside Bucky. "Oh my gosh, when did this happen and why was I not informed? And you have more followers than me, what is this?"

"Uh, Wanda helped me. She said it would help get the story out there." He clarifies, pulling you into his side and throws his blanket over your legs. 

You snuggle into him, giggling at his bare account,"Do you have an Instagram?"

He doesn't answer, but you see the hot flush that crawls from his neck and up to his cheeks.

"You do. This is the best day of my life. Hold on, I need to sign in so I can follow you and fully appreciate the day James Bucanan Barnes has entered the Digital Age." You squeal, signing into your private accounts and quickly tapping the follow button on @/officialbuckybarnes.

"Its not that big of a deal." He dismisses, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"But it is. I'm proud of you." You turn to kiss his cheek, but he turns at that moment and he catches your lips.

He whines, whines, when you pull away to continue snooping through his Instagram. You see the latest post is the article eccentrically titled, The Bride Had A Reason To Run. You love the article, it isn’t a sob story. It is well-written, knock-out retelling of the story from all sides. Except this time, it includes yours. She even includes quotes from Sharon and Rogers, himself. It’s priceless. She slices away their credibility with a timeline and statement from an unnamed alter boy. Though it makes you sad to see Bucky so far away from his long-time friend, Bucky had reassured you the break between the two was long overdue.

The first post catches your eye, you click on it and its candid shot of the man beside you. It's a shot from the side, he's leaned over the kitchen island at the Avenger's compound looking past the camera’s view, but it shows the contour muscles of his arms as he sips from a charcoal mug. You’re a fan. 

Bucky scrowls,"Wanda said it would help me launch my platform, whatever that means. I like the second one better."

"I don't know, that one's going to be hard to beat." You joke, lifting your feet onto the coffee table and swipe to the next picture and blink in surprise, it's you.

Well, it's your silhouette, standing at the edge of the dock when you were still at the lake house. You’re holding onto your coffee cup with both hands, looking down because you were trying to kick what you thought was a rock off the dock and into the water. As it turns out it was a rusted nail. Thankfully the picture was from waist up so instead of looking like an idiot, you looked thoughtful and wistful, even.

"Wow," You say in awe. "You took this?"

"I couldn't help it. It was meant to be funny but I zoomed in too close." He explains bashfully, taking a sip from your mug still in his possession. 

"Ah blackmail." You tease, bumping your shoulder with his. "I like your idea of blackmail. I look good."

"You do." He bumps your shoulder right back.

You smile, there’s hardly a time when you're not smiling in Bucky's presence. You see a million words float from the photo and they all seem to shout, I love you. 

+ + +

L/N Breaks Silence

The Carter and Rogers Affair

We Got It All Wrong. It Was Her Mom.

M.O.B Canceled

The headlines aren’t as snappy, but the truth, your truth was being heard. The public knew and you decline all interviews and talk show appearances, unless vetted by Wanda and CHLOE, who you found a quick friend in, amidst the aftermath. It feels good to walk around New York and not have to worry about someone throwing out harsh words or tomatoes. Bucky lost a good henley during a snack run when he went to the corner store to get more milk for the cake he insisted you needed. You told him not to go, that water was a perfectly acceptable replacement. Bucky disagreed and thirty minutes later came back lathered in tomato juice and two bags full of candy, coco mix, and the damn milk.

"What do you think?" Bucky poses, pulling you from your thoughts and back to the front of a store window.

You study the store front, it's a jewelry store. The stones around the mannequin neck and fingers glare too harshly for your taste. You shrug in indifference,"A little gaudy for me but..."

Bucky looks at the window thoughtfully,"But?"

"Follow me." You whisper cryptically, bounding on the toes of your feet as you pull him into the shop.

He allows you to tug him deep into the store to the corner, where you lean over the glass counter. To the far left of the display, nestled between a pair of small stud jade earrings and an opal teardrop ring, a small minimalistic leaf designed ring calls out to the man beside you. 

"They always keep the boho styled pieces in this case. This middle row is always simple but full of character." You knock your elbow into his, eyeing the front door. "You ready?"

Bucky hums, but is mystified by the case and makes note of this case, of the middle row.

"Hi, I'm Kieran. Can I help you with anything today?" A store employee offers, with a bright smile from the other side of the display case.

"Not today, thank you," Bucky nods, but looks longingly at the row one more time before you intertwine your fingers with his.

"Till next time," Kieran says and smiles knowingly and waves you off.

You wave back cheerfully and pull Bucky back out onto the street. You twirl across the sidewalk over to the next store window. 

"What's all that about?" Bucky asks, amused and pulls you back to his body.

You love being this close to Bucky, you love him.

"I just love you." You reply simply. You can't help but admire the way you sparkle in his eyes.

"That's a good reason." He counters with a curt nod and begins to sway you in between his arms. "I love you too."

In the middle of the street, you dance to invisible music as leaves flitter at your feet. Two weeks to the day, Bucky whisks you back to the lake house. Out on the dock in the late morning light, down on one knee he pulls out a familiar diamond leaf ring and it takes less than two seconds for you to hell yes.

A little over twelve months, you are wed in a dress of your choosing and a guest list smaller than a basketball team, to a man you know without doubt is not involved with Sharon.

A year later, back at the lake house your laughter rings out of the open kitchen window upon seeing Bucky's newly verified Instagram account.

Thank you for reading!

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

Happy pride month!

Happy Pride Month 2022!!!

Faust the Crow loves you even more than she did last year!

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

i dug up some notes i made for an essay i will never write on star wars biology

i titled it "the anakin skywalker problem"

Things contributing to the problem:

Anakin is purportedly the result of parthenogenesis (“virgin birth”). He is clearly not a clone of his mother Shmi. While parthenogenesis doesn’t automatically mean children are clones of their parent (see automixis), pathenotes should not have any alleles that their parent doesn’t also have. For example, if a parent has an AB blood type, a child produced via automixis could inherit two copies of the A allele and have blood type A, but could not inherit any blood type O alleles because they don’t exist in their parent. The most obvious question of “how could this trait have come from Shmi?” is that Anakin is implied to have a Y chromosome (see the point about his biological children). 

Midichlorians are implied to be intracellular symbionts. This means that they live in the cytoplasm of their hosts’ cells. I am deducing this based on statements that their name comes from mitochondria and chloroplasts, which are both organelles hypothesized to have originated as intracellular symbionts. This is relevant to the Anakin Problem because cytoplasmic organelles and intracellular symbionts are generally considered to be maternally inherited, i.e. they all come from the egg-producing parent. However, in some species a phenomenon called paternal leakage happens, where some amount of cytoplasmic structures from the sperm are passed on to the offspring. This is rare in most species where it does happen and not thought to occur in humans. 

Anakin has two biological children who both inherited his Force sensitivity. We know Padme carried them, so one would assume Anakin is the sperm donor. If we assume midichlorians are the source of Force sensitivity, Anakin must have passed them on somehow. 

Anakin’s children are fraternal twins, meaning they were formed by separate egg-and-sperm fusion events. This means that any genetic or cytoplasmic events (such as paternal leakage) happened twice. This is notable because in animals, paternal leakage is generally thought of as a random event that happens very rarely. 

The twins are largely implied to be accidents. This means it’s unlikely Padme or Anakin went out of their way to access reproductive therapies. I bring this up because “Anakin is a trans man” solves several problems above, except we are also told he (presumably) accidentally impregnated someone. 

Possible solutions:

Human biology in Star Wars just works differently from how it does in real life. This solution means you can just say whatever you want, and is therefore boring to discuss in this type of over-analysis. 

Shmi was using a euphemism when she described Anakin as having no father. 

Shmi is not actually human. 

Midichlorians are indicators of Force sensitivity, not the source. This means that Midichlorians are environmentally acquired rather than inherited, but Force Sensitivity could still have a different biological component driving it (since “the Force is strong in my family” implies heritability of sensitivity). Would also explain why getting a blood transfusion from Grogu does not confer force powers (don’t get me started on blood transfusions). 

Anakin is trans and gender-affirmation options in space are just really, really good. Like “got someone pregnant on accident” good. (Shmi could also be trans but idk how she’d have access to these options on Tatooine.)

Some of Anakin’s genome comes from some mysterious Force-based source. Personally I don’t like this one unless you’re playing it for jokes/crack because it just seems like a cop out lol. 

Midichlorians themselves greatly increase the chance of paternal leakage in order to self-propagate, OR midichlorians all want to make a bunch of clones of themselves all the time and it’s the host’s biology controlling numbers. I like this one if you want to keep Midichlorians as the source of Force sensitivity. You could assume that, if numbers of Midichlorians are what confer Force sensitivity (where some threshold number makes you sensitive), the number of Midichlorians possible in a cell are dependent on the host. In other words, some people’s cells allow lots of midichlorians to grow (making them Force sensitive) and some people’s biology prevents them from growing enough to access the Force. This could explain how Force sensitive individuals are born to non-sensitive parents.

[smallbutdeadlyspoons]

This post is oddly accurate... yes I am part of the latter group.

Are u straight or do you have a guitar on the corner of your room?