#like. how. how do you have no self awareness

[patchouii]

I’ve always been obsessed with this detail, and with the fact Bryan Fuller has never spoken about it. If we interpret this scene as Hannibal having fourth wall/meta awareness— because Bryan Fuller is the god of insane details in television shows and would NOT just leave the biggest no-no in acting in— everything about the show gets recontextualized. The meaning of everything changes. Everything changes.

Hannibal (as written by Thomas Harris) isn’t quite religious, but he isn’t quite an atheist either. He speaks of the Christian God more like the Greek Gods: more flawed, more human and selfish and impulsive, more hungry. God is gravity, God is a lonely little boy in the snow, snowflakes falling around him that he can crush or cradle or lick up as he wishes.

When Will expresses dark urges right off the bat in S1 ep2, saying he liked killing Hobbs, Hannibal says it’s fine, “God kills people all the time”. It’s an interesting comment, he’s fixated on “becomings” and sculpting masterworks from the raw self, I’d imagine he’d think along the lines of God laying the blueprints for evolution. But writers choose what characters live and die. A writer kills people all the time, people in worlds they’ve made like God did. Worlds made for enjoyment at a whim, like how Hannibal describes God’s whims.

“Typhoid and swans, it all comes from the same place”— with the fourth wall break, this has more meaning. It’s sardonic, it ribs those who see God as benevolent and those who despise the idea of him, painting God in an ambivalent “I was curious to see what would happen” light. It also shames God (or rather the writers)— they chose to make his world have typhoid and swans, beauty and horror— you could argue any world would be kinder with just one or the other.

Hannibal glances at us as he toasts his guests in S1 ep1 and as he shares this joke with us. It’s self-reassurance of his (arguable) autonomy, mockery, a gesture of respect, a double inside joke, acknowledgement of his place. He knows his world is derivative. The pigs around him don’t and can’t, so of course he would view most of humanity as lesser. They are a different species of person. They aren’t on his level, by literal design or otherwise. We know how we see him on our screens, but we don’t know how he sees us. How would God see us, anyways?

Hannibal knows the world he lives in is one where free will is an even more precarious question, one where YOLO and hedonism just make sense. It becomes a question of the value of morals in and of themselves: if the world’s distant arbiters kill people all the time to some degree— strangers, his family, his victims— why shouldn’t he be able to do whatever, kill and manipulate whoever however?

If free will is random and revocable, does it matter at all? He’s only doing what we do, just more directly! If we were in his position, how far might the jumps be from recognizing this to stealing a purse or two to murdering that horrible coworker— any answer feels strangely defensive. It’s a fascinating train of thought that results from one glance. That’s why this show will forever be my absolute favorite.

Hannibal (2013-2015)

3x03 - “Secondo”

Hannibal breaking the fourth wall

[m4rv3l-girl]

Hi, I was wondering if you're okay with the idea I'm going to present if not totally cool, thank you anyways. So ppl seem to write smut or funny scenarios about Bucky being caught while he's helping himself thinking of y/n BUT what if y/n was helping themselves to thoughts of Bucky and he heard/saw her accidentally. Idk if you'd make it funny or smutty, just an idea. Sorry if it's bad, just thought it was fun to flip the script for once.

Caught in the act

Warning: Mentions of sex. Masturbation.

The compound was quiet. Too quiet.

Bucky Barnes had learned to trust his instincts, and right now, they were telling him something was off. Not in the “Hydra is infiltrating the base” way, but in the “where the hell is everyone?” kind of way.

Stark was off-world, Steve was doing whatever the hell Steve did in retirement, and Sam had dragged most of the team out for a long-overdue night off. Even Natasha had given him a knowing smirk and muttered something about “alone time” before slipping out the door.

Alone time. Right. Bucky had plans for that himself—something about a beer and mindlessly flipping through whatever crap was on TV. That plan changed when he walked past Y/N’s room.

Her door was cracked open. Just a sliver. He wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t hyper-aware of everything about her. It was a problem. A deep-rooted, all-consuming problem that started the first time she smiled at him like he wasn’t broken, like he was just Bucky. And now, he was stuck—caught between wanting more and knowing he shouldn’t.

He hadn’t meant to stop. Not until he heard it.

A sound. Soft, muffled. A sharp inhale followed by something dangerously close to a whimper. Bucky froze in the hall, every nerve in his body standing at attention. The part of him still wired for combat wanted to break down the door and assess the threat. The part of him hopelessly in love with her knew exactly what that sound was.

It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t distress. It was pleasure. Pure and raw and—

His stomach dropped.

Y/N was moaning. His name.

Bucky swallowed, throat dry as he stood frozen in place. He should walk away. Hell, he should run. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Instead, he shifted, inching toward the barely-open door like a damn fool.

The sight nearly knocked him flat.

Y/N was sprawled across her bed, tangled in sheets that did little to cover her. Her breasts were sat exposed to the air and her nipples were pulled into taut peaks. One hand clutched desperately at the fabric, while the other was tucked beneath the sheets - a grinding motion between her legs.

Bucky jerked back before he could see more, heart slamming against his ribs. Jesus Christ.

His name. She had been saying his name. Not some vague, desperate plea but his name, clear as day. It sent his mind spinning, heat pooling low in his gut as he realized exactly what she was doing.

The realization was a gut punch. A hard, unrelenting surge of something he wasn’t ready to name because if he did - if he let himself really feel it - he might do something reckless. Like go in there.

And yet, he didn’t move. Not even when she gasped, voice breaking on a needy whimper, not when she arched against the mattress, not when he heard her breathless, desperate murmur.

“Bucky..”

He had to go. Now.

He forced himself back, willing his body to move, but his traitorous metal arm knocked against the doorframe. The quiet clang might as well have been an explosion. He barely had time to curse before he heard her gasp, the rustling of sheets as she scrambled upright.

“Wha—?”

Busted.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself six ways to Sunday before forcing himself to turn back. Y/N was staring at him, face flushed, lips parted, breathing heavy. Every sinful detail was burned into his mind, permanently etched behind his eyelids.

“Bucky?” Her voice was unsteady. “Did you—how long were you—?”

Too long. Way too long.

His brain short-circuited, caught between apology and self-preservation. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

She looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. “Oh my God.”

“I was just walking by.”

“Walking by?” Her voice pitched higher, the embarrassment hitting full force. “And you just—decided to stop?”

“No! I mean, yes—” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I heard my name.”

Silence.

Y/N’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”

Bucky had been in some truly horrible situations in his life. This was a whole new level of hell.

“I’m gonna go.” He took a step back. “You just—do whatever it was you were—”

“Oh my God, stop talking,” she groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “Just go.”

He nodded. That was the plan. Get the hell out of there, pretend this never happened. And yet—

He didn’t move.

Y/N peeked up at him through her fingers. “Why are you still here?”

Good question. A great question. But then she licked her lips, and something in him snapped.

“Doll,” he rasped, voice lower than he meant, “were you really thinking about me?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head like that might somehow erase reality. “I will literally throw myself off this balcony.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. A dangerous, self-satisfied thing. The heat still thrumming in his veins overpowered his better judgment. “You know I’d catch you.”

Y/N groaned. “Go away.”

He should. He really, really should. But when she peeked up at him again, all flushed and guilty and absolutely wrecked, his resolve crumbled.

“Or,” he mused, stepping closer, “you could let me help.”

Y/N’s eyes shot open, meeting his. “What?”

He shrugged, trying for casual, but the heat in his gaze belied his nonchalance. “Seemed like you were having a bit of trouble there. Maybe I could—assist?”

The blush that painted her cheeks was like a neon sign flashing in the quiet of the room. She pulled the sheets to cover her face. “Buckyyy…” She whined with pathetic anger.

He couldn’t help but laugh a little, the sound rich and warm, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m just saying, if you want a hand…”

Her head snapped up. “What? No! That’s—” But she didn’t get to finish. The words lodged in her throat when she saw his expression. He wasn’t joking. He was dead serious. And, oh God, she was seriously considering it.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered, closing the distance between them. “You know you want to.”

The room grew hotter, her breaths shallower. He reached out and brushed the hair from her forehead, his touch sending sparks along her skin. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare look away from those piercing blue eyes.

“What if someone finds out?” she managed to ask.

His smile grew. “Then I guess we’d be in a bit of a jam, wouldn’t we?”

But she could see the hunger in his gaze, the same one she felt in her core.

“Was that the first time you’ve touched yourself thinking about me?” Bucky's voice was a gentle rumble, his hand now cupping her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.

Y/N's eyes went wide, and she rolled off the bed with a thud, landing in an embarrassed heap on the floor. She curled into a ball, the sheets pooling around her, face burning hotter than the sun. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

He followed, his booted feet silent on the plush carpet. “What? That you want me?” He crouched beside her, his hand brushing over her bare shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine.

“No, that you’re actually here, and that you saw..” she mumbled into the floor. “That you’re not disgusted by me. That—”

“Disgusted?” He interrupted, voice sharp. He tugged the sheet down, forcing her to meet his gaze.

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of disdain or pity. But all she found was heat, a smoldering intensity that made her heart race. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I’m—”

“You’re beautiful,” he cut her off, his voice gruff. “And the fact that you were thinking about me while you were pleasing that perfect body…I never want to unsee that.”

Her eyes searched his, a mix of shock and something that looked suspiciously like hope. Bucky’s thumb brushed her bottom lip, his gaze never leaving hers. He leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin.

“What were you thinking about..?” he whispered, his breath fanning over her.

Y/N’s eyes widened even further, and she swallowed hard. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But she knew she couldn’t lie to him. Not now. “You,” she murmured, the admission slipping out before she could think better of it. “I was thinking about you, and us, and—”

He didn’t let her finish. Bucky’s hand found hers, and he gently pulled her to her feet, the sheet slipping away to reveal her nakedness. She should have felt shy, embarrassed, but all she felt was the weight of his stare, the heat of his body.

He stood up, towering over her, and she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. “Us?” he echoed, the word thick with meaning.

Her heart thudded in her chest, the air between them thick with anticipation. “Yeah,” she said, her voice a mere breath.

“What exactly?” He asked, almost out of breath.

Y/N looked up at him, her cheeks aflame, but she didn’t back down. “You know what. Us together. Like—uhm…” She stumbled over the words, her heart hammering.

Bucky’s grip on her hand tightened, his eyes searching hers. “Like what?” he prompted, his voice softer now.

“Like making love,” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her admission. She watched his expression, waiting for the rejection, the amusement. But instead, she saw something good flicker in his eyes. Desire. Need.

He took a step closer, his chest brushing hers. “Is that so?” he murmured.

Y/N nodded, feeling the warmth of his body against her own, the heat from his gaze searing through her.

Bucky’s thumb stroked the inside of her wrist, his touch feather-light but leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “And here I thought you were just passing the time while everyone was out.”

“It’s not just passing the time for me,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She searched his face, looking for any sign of doubt, but all she found was an intensity that mirrored her own.

For a moment, the world outside of Y/N’s room ceased to exist. There were no missions, no alien threats, no superhero personas to uphold—just her and Bucky, standing in the quiet embrace of the night. The air grew thick with tension, each breath they took charged with the electricity of possibility.

His free hand came up, cupping her face, tilting it back until their eyes were locked. His thumb traced her cheekbone, sending shivers down her neck. “I’ve done it too.” he said softly…

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it, Hun. I really liked writing this. 🫶

Maybe a part 2..? 🤔

[mywordstovictor]

The Good Place really does say ‘I have wind chimes where my dingdong should be’ and also no one is beyond redemption because change is fundamental to being human and people can have understandable reasons for being shitty and still have a responsibility to try not to be shitty in the same breath. They make the case that there is potential for good in all of us and we are therefore deserving of support in finding that good through the medium of dick jokes. It’s not that they turn some guy into demon goo, then a second later they talk about the Nature of Morality, they do it simultaneously and they use the demon goo to delve deeper into the Nature of Morality. Like how is a middle aged woman with a crack problem who spends most of her time masturbating in a suburban home set up for her in the middle of the afterlife as a compromise between pseudo heaven and pseudo hell also an enlightening examination of the perils of nihilism? Each of the characters has a fatal flaw that’s explored with both humour and remarkable sincerity and their flaws were literally fatal. Off screen. Before the first episode. They directly and repeatedly tell you what the show’s themes are and it’s funny? One of the few examples where ignoring the advice to ‘show, not tell' works. Good Place so self-aware that it laughs at its own self-awareness. It’s a weird show. Yeah the humour is weird and the plot is weird and the world building is straight up absurd, but it also functions so completely differently than how TV is supposed to.

Anyway, Chidi’s constant overthinking is kinda relatable

[revelboo]

Anyway your posts keep me sane while I have my mom in the hospital. Thank you for your writing 💕 can I request more of Steve? Whenever you are ready I love him so much 😂

Sure and I hope she’s doing okay

Coin-Operated Boy Pt 3

Vehicons x Reader

• Can’t understand you. Can’t understand your kindness. Helping him even though there’s nothing in it for you. But it means so much to him, servos hesitantly brushing your arm as you tape the last tear and smile up at him. Like this is normal, helping someone you don’t even know with nothing to gain. Is this just an organic thing? Or just you? “That’s the best I can do, sorry,” you say. Apologizing that you hadn’t been able to completely help repair him. Like you think you didn’t do enough.

• Suddenly aware of the fact that he’s curled forward, head brushing yours and the tips of his servos grazing your arm, you back nervously back away. Reminding yourself that just because he’s docile right now doesn’t mean he’s safe. And his arm slowly lowers as his head tips to study your pitiful repair job. He’s not bleeding out whatever his glowing stuff is anymore, but that’s all you’d managed. “I can check and see if the coast is clear, if you want?” You ask and his head tips making you think he doesn’t understand the saying. Walking to the door, you push it open and look outside. Don’t see anyone around now. Whoever made him has to be looking for him, though. “I think you’re okay now. Do you remember how to open the garage door?” Watching as his head slowly dips in a nod, you relax. “For what it’s worth, I hope whoever hurt you doesn’t catch you.”

• Watches you head back up those stairs into the main building, leaving him to rest. Servos flexing, he swears he can still feel those soft, gentle hands on him. Venting, he reluctantly crawls to the bigger door and carefully pokes the little button, hearing something crunch under his servo, but the door slowly rises enough that he can awkwardly crawl out. Knows he’s still far too weak, but he can at least walk to the nearest energon mine for help. His self repair systems trying to deal with the damage now that he’s not losing so much energon. Thanks to you.

• When you open the door to the garage to check on your new friend, you’re not really surprised that he’s gone. It’s not like he’s some stray cat that you can just keep. He’s a giant, crazy advanced robot. And someone did that damage to him, someone you’d rather not deal with. Heading back inside to fix some dinner, you smile despite yourself, wishing Steve good luck wherever he is.

• No one believes him, but that’s not really surprising. They’re cloned soldiers. Expendable. So someone treating them with not only respect, but kindness? He gets it. Gets that the others doubt him. Grimacing as Knockout works on repairing him, he keeps thinking about you. And realizes that he wants to repay you somehow. There must be something he can do for you. What do little organics even like? Maybe some of the other Vehicons know?

Previous

[cece693]

could I maybe request something for a male reader and hannigram? something where the reader is always really quiet and generally avoids people so everyone thinks he’s shy, but one conversation with him shows that he is NOT shy—he’s just on the verge of murdering someone constantly. ‘Never plan a murder out loud’ type shit

so idk like quiet, anger issues-y type of reader? anyways thanks :3

On the Tip of Your Tongue

pairing: hannigram x male reader tags: reader isn't who he seems, hannigram is supportive, no murder today, short but sweet, kinda au

You’ve always been the quiet type—or at least, that’s what everyone thinks. You’re the coworker who slips in and out of the office with barely a nod in passing. The neighbor who’s so hard to catch in conversation that people decide you must be shy or painfully introverted. After all, you rarely speak unless spoken to, and even then, it’s usually just a few carefully chosen words.

But Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham know better.

They see the way your eyes linger a second too long on potential threats. They hear the deliberate pace of your breathing when you’d rather lash out than listen to unwelcome commentary. They���ve witnessed how your fists tighten and then relax at your sides, an exercise in self-control so you don’t do something you’d regret—or maybe something you’ve been itching to do all day.

No one suspects that you’re coiled tight like a predator, mentally skirting the edge of violence at every sharp word or rude glance. Well, no one besides your boyfriends.

You live with Will and Hannibal in a large, old house on the outskirts of Baltimore. It’s tastefully furnished—Hannibal’s touch, of course—with warm wooden floors and richly colored walls. Tucked into a corner near the fireplace is a battered armchair that’s Will’s favorite spot. When you get home from work tonight, you find Will curled up there, jacket tossed over the chair’s arm, while Hannibal stands by the mantle, hands clasped behind his back.

“There you are,” Will says, sounding relieved. “Busy day?”

You loosen your tie with a quick tug and hang it over the coat rack. “Something like that.”

“‘Something like that’?” Hannibal repeats with a faint tilt of his head. He steps forward, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “It’s rare you come home so tense.”

You offer him a crooked half-smile. “I had a run-in at work.”

Will sits up straighter, frowning. “Everything okay?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you say, your voice low. You’re aware, in that moment, that anyone else would have shrugged it off with a polite, noncommittal phrase. But you don’t bother hiding the edge in your tone. Not in front of these two men. “Let’s just say I gave someone a wake-up call.”

It’s Will’s turn to smile, the corner of his mouth quirking with interest. “I’m guessing there’s more to the story than that.”

You shrug. “Maybe a bit.”

Earlier That Day

You work at a forensic consulting office attached to the FBI. You’re not a profiler—Will’s got that covered, and so does Hannibal, in his own capacity—but your role is instrumental. You file case reports, cross-reference data, catalog evidence, and do some background research that often proves vital. It’s not glamorous, but you do it well. Quiet competence, that’s your calling card. Nobody expects the seemingly shy, unassuming coworker to have sharp claws.

Apparently, Joseph Sykes in the archives department was in the mood to push buttons today. He’d made an offhand remark about your “lack of communication skills,” implying you were borderline useless in a high-stakes environment. Maybe if you were more gregarious, you’d climb the ladder faster.

You could practically feel your temper thrumming. There’s a little tingle in your fingertips, that familiar rush of heat across your temples. The darkness that’s always lurking on the edges of your mind wanted to creep in, to let you imagine just how easy it might be to…

No. Not here. You repeated the same mantra you always do. Never plan a murder out loud, and never lose your cool so publicly.

Instead, you turned to face him slowly. You allowed the silence to stretch until Joseph got a little uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot. When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet enough that only he could hear, but laced with a menace that forced him to pay attention.

“Joseph,” you said, leaning in slightly, “I don’t need to be loud to get results. If you want to see me really speak up, keep trying to push me.”

His expression froze as he realized that, beneath the polite exterior, something lethal flickered behind your eyes. You gave him a small, dangerous smile, then calmly walked away. He was left standing there, mouth slightly open, unsure of what to say.

Back Home

Will’s eyebrows lift as you finish recounting the incident. “You put him in his place without even raising your voice?”

“Didn’t have to.” You shrug, crossing the room to where Hannibal stands. He places a hand lightly on your shoulder, warmth radiating through his long fingers.

“We all have our own ways of asserting dominance,” Hannibal murmurs, a private amusement in his tone. “I’m glad you didn’t escalate things. Though, one day, perhaps you’ll indulge me and share how you control that hunger.” His eyes flick over yours, curious and admiring.

“I don’t know if you’re the last person who should be encouraging that or the best person,” you tease. “But it’s not about control so much as picking the right moment. I’m not going to waste my time or energy on something that small.”

Will stands, padding softly over to the two of you. “That’s what I love about you,” he says. “Everyone thinks you’re just quiet and shy, but the reality is far more interesting. You’ve got more bite in you than half the people at the Bureau combined.”

You offer a wry smile, stepping closer so that Will can take your hand, and Hannibal, your other. “There’s a lot they don’t know, that’s for sure.”

A small silence settles over the three of you—comfortable, warm. Even with your smoldering anger from earlier, you can’t help but feel at peace here. In their presence, your edges don’t feel quite so sharp. There’s an understanding that hums beneath the surface; you don’t need to watch your every word or apologize for the way your thoughts naturally veer. Will and Hannibal know who you are in your quiet moments and in the moments where the darkness tries to seep out from behind your eyes.

And they accept you, entirely.

Later that night, you’re in the kitchen with Hannibal. He’s slicing vegetables for a late dinner, and the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board is almost hypnotic. You lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with a lazy sort of fascination.

Without looking away from his task, Hannibal speaks up. “There’s a question on your mind.”

You exhale slowly, pushing off the counter to stand at his side. “I’m not sure it’s a question so much as an observation. Everyone at work still thinks I’m meek. Even after all this time. When someone like Sykes decides to test me…some part of me wants to prove them wrong in a very, very final way.”

Hannibal’s lips curl into that refined, knowing smile. “The instincts we share can be…difficult to restrain. But you have an advantage: clarity. You know when to yield, and you know when to stand your ground. That’s more power than you realize.”

He sets the knife down and meets your gaze, eyes dark with a fond, predatory glint. “And perhaps you enjoy having them underestimate you.”

Will appears in the doorway then, shoulders relaxed. “Dinner almost ready?” he asks lightly, though he picks up on the electricity in the air. His gaze dances between you and Hannibal, reflecting his quiet understanding of the unspoken tension you both carry.

“Almost,” Hannibal replies, returning to his slicing.

Will moves close enough to rest a hand on your lower back. “And you? You alright now?” His tone is gentle.

You let out a tight breath and allow yourself to lean into his touch, if only a little. “I’m fine.” Your voice drops, turning wry. “Calmer than I was earlier, anyway.”

“Glad to hear it,” Will says. He presses a light kiss just behind your ear. It’s casual affection, but it’s enough to smooth out the last of your lingering frustration.

You smile, truly smile, for the first time that evening. Because this moment—this comfortable, domestic moment with Hannibal and Will—is what keeps you anchored. You can keep your secrets and your darkness close, but never alone. You can unleash your quieter, deadlier side at will, knowing they won’t turn away from you. If anything, it only draws you closer.

[starpoweredv1b]

lamb to the slaughter

tw. fem pov, spanking, legal age gap, dub-con, predator/prey-ish kink, blood kink (?), degradation, rough and painful sex, size kink, choking, tba

thinking about bestfriend's dad!sylus and how he's very strict but has a soft spot for you because you make his angel so happy but also because of the way your curves look in those clothes you like to wear, the way you looked at him through your lashes when you spoke to his way taller self, and especially the way you yelped or whimpered.

don't get him wrong. he loves strong women. his wife, his kid, they're all strong women. but you? you scratched an inner primal part of his brain that wishes to break things. the one that makes his heart race when he has someone's pulse in his hands as they beg for their life. his pretty little lamb. god he wanted to mark your pretty skin and cover you in blood. rip you apart into shreds as you cry all pretty and unravel beneath his touch.

so when the ultimate opportunity of all opportunities presented itself in the form of his wife being away on a work trip and his daughter being sound asleep during your sleepover with her, sylus got his big break. he was seated on his couch, fingers swirling a glass of his favourite wine to aerate it when you descended down the stairs.

now anybody else would be wearing less revealing clothes when sleeping over at someone's house especially when their dad was home. but not you, his sweet little naiive lamb. you were there in your pretty shorts showing delicious skin. skin that he would love nothing more than to sink his canines into. maybe lap up the blood when the skin breaks. the vein in his clenched jaw twitched.

his red irises trailed your form as you stumbled all sleepy to his kitchen, tiptoeing to get a glass on one of the higher shelves. the one with the cute cat print on it. the one reserved for his wife. your audacity was truly something else. the way your shirt rode up your skin, exposing tantalising slivers. he finds himself standing up, adjusting the bulge in his slacks as he walked towards your unsuspecting form.

"the guests' cups are in the cupboards."

he says in that smooth drawl of his, fingernails tapping the side of his wine glass before he sets it down. he had a lazy smirk, an eyebrow cocked as he scans your form the way a wolf would from behind the fence when they see lambs. sweet, delicious, lambs.

"s-shoot, sorry mr s! i was not aware of that!"

mr s. what a stupid nickname. but coming from you, he found it amusing if anything. cute, even. he waved it off dismissively.

"it's quite alright, little lamb. you just incurred your very first strike."

you looked at him all wide eyed and parted lips. unsure of how to even respond. a strike from the infamous leader of the onychinus during a sleepover with his daughter was not something you could have prepared for in any way. you could see the way his pupils dilate and ate at the reds of his iris. you swallowed softly, instinctively stumbling away from his tall imposing figure only to end up dropping the cup. the shattering sound pierced through the tension.

"and that's two strikes."

he says with your chin between his forefingers, held in a firm grip. that was how you found yourself bent over his office desk, your own panties stuffed in between your teeth as he spanked your ass, watching it go taut with each swat of his belt. it was beginning to darken, fat droplets of slick beginning to roll down the sides of your spread legs from your inner thighs. he wondered how translucent your panties would be if he were to remove your shorts from where it pulled and latched around your ankles.

"you're doing surprisingly well, little lamb."

he taunts, leaning over. his stiff bulge pressing against the curve of your ass as he bends over to whisper against the shell of your ear.

"that's very unfortunate...for you."

he says before delivering a sharp stinging blow to your wet pussy, the loud squelching sound resounding in his spacious office mingling with your pained grunt. he clamped his fingers onto your scalp, tugging your head back to give you a mocking forehead kiss as he licks your tears.

"the faster you break, the easier it'll all get..."

he whispered before nipping at your ear lobe. with both your hands held behind your back by his larger ones and your thighs kept apart by his long muscular legs, you felt him free your head only to unzip his fly. he swiftly secured his belt around your neck. the buckle's tightness just shy of lethal, leather pressing on your throat as he yanked it backwards to make you look into his eyes.

"it's going to hurt...but you'll take it for me won't you, little lamb?"

he says in that drawl of his. as if all he was asking for was a simple favour and not to spear you open on his fat cock that nestled between the zipper of his slacks. tip leaking with pre as he slides it over and over between your slick folds. with a firm tug that almost cut off your breathing entirely, he thrusted into you in one fell swoop. the tip of his cock nudged against your cervix and the stretch made you cry out. your knuckles began to whiten from how hard you were gripping the edges of the table. he gently tucks away your hair with small cooing tuts before thrusting inside again.

you began gasping for air, the panties in your mouth and the leather around your throat doing little to help. your fingers began to scramble at your neck, desperate for air. for mercy. he groaned at the pathetic sight, going impossibly faster and harder. you could feel him rubbing the back of your navel from how your lower tummy pressed against the table edge. your vision began to turn spotty with fuzzy black dots and your eyes began to roll.

"so tight- hff- maybe next time i'll have to carve out this pussy to hng- make space, hm?"

his threats and brutality made your traitorous body grow wetter. his groans and grunts of pleasure only spurred you on even more. you've never been treated so roughly before. your whole body rocking with the table, both of which would surely be left with marks all over. he reached down and pinched your clit harshly as he released the tightness around your throat.

you gasped, the rush of unrestricted air into your lungs mixed with the sharp pain making you double over as you coughed. weak spurts of your cum sputtering out as you clenched around him. he groaned as he pulled out, cumming all over your bruised ass. he was panting as he rubbed the cum into your stinging bruised cheeks, giving them a firm squeeze before letting you stumble to the floor right on where it hurt most.

he felt the same rush of power that usually came before a kill. you looked so beautifully pathetic, snivelling and crying at his feet with your legs all splayed out and his cum staining the backs of your thighs. the sight of your puffy pussy made his cock twitch against his stained slacks. had it been just the two of you, he would have fucked you over and over. made you bleed and beg and wail beneath him. but sylus was a patient man. he could wait until next time.

he carried your weakened form onto his table and handed you a napkin. you watched through your tears as he tucked his still hard cock away and zipped up his pants, white hair sticking to his forehead from working up a sweat. he tilts your head back and poured some wine between your lips, eyes tracing where it dribbled and seeped into your shirt.

"there, that should help with the soreness."

he says simply before setting the glass down once more. he leans in, lips ghosting over your bruised ones as he traced the side of your jaw.

"until strike three, little lamb."

[cookie-lore-keeper]

is that so? you seem to know quite a bit about him, especially when it regards him being obsessed with pure vanilla. why do you think that is?

-🥛

Oh my gods, do I get to list my reasons? Thank you so much for asking this, Milk Anon!

Why Shadow Milk Cookie is so obsessed with Pure Vanilla Cookie

We're all aware of Shadow Milk Cookie's whole weird thing with Pure Vanilla Cookie, right? He hates him so much, but he's completely obsessed with him. He wants to torture this man and tear him down and prove to him that they are two sides of the same coin. That they are each other's other halves.

But why? Why is he so obsessed with this Cookie? Surely there's more to it than just their souljams.

He sees himself in Pure Vanilla Cookie

(Notice how he's looking at Pure Vanilla Cookie's eyes; not the Souljam)

I think that Shadow Milk Cookie is telling the truth when he says that he and Vanilly are each other's other halves. Just like Pure Vanilla Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie was worshipped for being a being of Truth and knowledge. Just like Pure Vanilla Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie wished to seek the truth and help all cookies. But, unlike Vanilly, that truth corrupted Shmilk.

As of now, I think that Shadow Milk Cookie went through the same thing that Pure Vanilla Cookie is currently going through. He's doubting himself. He has gained so much knowledge and that knowledge had crumbled the world around him. So what did he do? He turned to Deceit. With deceit and lies, he can finally control the narrative, as he is the one creating these false truths. And, he can also lie to himself, and have control over the parts of himself that he can't.

Now, compare this to Pure Vanilla Cookie. He is now the holder of his (Shadow Milk's) Souljam. He is being worshipped as a hero, just like Shadow Milk Cookie. He is being worshipped as a being of Truth, just like Shadow Milk Cookie. And Shadow Milk Cookie can't stand that, for whatever reason. For one, that's his souljam that the witches took away. But, it's also more than that. Whether it's him not being able to see what he could've been if he had just hadn't fallen into the sweet freedom of lying, or if he just wants to quicken the path he thinks Pure Vanilla Cookienis destined to go in, or Hell, it might even just be the need to corrupt this hero just because it feels good, he doesn't want him to be that hero anymore. He wants to see him crash and burn and become just like him ('him' Shadow Milk Cookie).

He is projecting onto Pure Vanilla Cookie

For just a moment, we see a look on Shadow Milk Cookie that resembles... something. Guilt? Regret? Whatever it is, it's worth noting. And he doesn't like it, so he has to crush it.

It goes back to Shadow Milk Cookie wanting to control the narrative. By lying, he controls everything. He controls the false realities he's built. But something broke through that for just a moment, and right after, he tries to crush Pure Vanilla Cookie.

This post explained it well.

He has the slight guilt of making Pure Vanilla Cookie suffer so he could understand what he went through as the Fount of Knowledge. Not to mention the PROJECTING. He literally made Pure Vanilla Cookie dress up as his pre-corrupted self.

Him and Pure Vanilla Cookie are truly each other's other halves, but Shadow Milk Cookie is realizing that that means ye has to deal with parts of himself that he doesn't like. And he needs to crush that.

Tldr; Shmilk is obsessed with Silly Vanilly bcuz he sees himself in him, which makes him project onto Silly Vanilly.

[urge4divinty]

Your ex’s hidden feelings about you ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

pac tarot reading paired with intuition, take what resonates and remember energy can always change readings aren’t set in stone. + their signs or dominant placements

3 cards pulled for each pile ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ gender neutral

Pile 1

the first thing i feel before even pulling cards is warmth, a warm feeling? maybe they felt that with you and it was something they miss deeply they can’t find that in someone else so they might be completely tweaking out about the kind of warmth you brought them. song i’m also channeling is just dance by lady gaga? “wish i shut my playboy mouth—control your poison, babe, roses have thrones they say”

after pulling cards the exs hidden feelings give a very “i need to be soul searching after you”they are alone and possibly becoming independent in a introspective state. dealing with insecurity and trying to understand their inner feelings it confuses them how hurt they are and they never expected to be—they are trying to distract themselves so they might be in a hustling state where they obsess with work/or obsess over material possessions. i’m getting heavy insecurity they’re not able to express how they feel nor do they want to their usually assertiveness is muted, they feel imbalanced like maybe you weren’t giving a even amount? could be hesitant due to past hurts. they’d invest in the connection again if they felt it was safe to right now they struggle with vulnerability. guarded, uncertain, wanting clarity? signs: leo virgo taurus/libra

donut pile what’s teaaaa omg

Pile 2

the first thing i feel is slight annoyance? like very annoyed—it’s this energy of being slightly bothered. the song that came on while thinking of pile 2 was off to the races by lana del rey “god , i’m so crazy baby i’m sorry that misbehaving” oh?? “i need you i breathe you ill never leave you” “i love you forever? not maybe you are my one true love”

After pulling cards their hidden feelings is definitely defeat? like they lost something big? could’ve been married or just a really committed and serious relationship it gives a loving bond, or was loving such a “i wanted to propose to them i wanted marriage” oh they are in deeeeeep dude. but they are trying to seem stoic like they aren’t totally sick but they don’t seem like they’ll openly express any of this. they still think of you as their ideal partner!! but the ending was so painful for them they feel emotionally done and still hold on to the memories of you two. forcing themselves to accept that it’s actually over. signs: aries cancer/pisces gemini/scorpio

Pile 3

this piles energy is so different from the rest? its almost unexplainable it’s like they don’t know what they feel but they definitely know what they lost “i feel stupid” popped into my head.

after pulling cards i’m getting that they are having a lot of thoughts about you they have a strong urge to reach out to say something replaying conversations thinking of what they SHOULD of said or done to make a difference. they might’ve been emotionally detached while with you but after you left they got out of this state with a quickness they stopped ignoring their feelings and now they feel regret—they are becoming aware of what this relationship meant to them lots of self reflection going on for them and they are understanding their role of what happened, they feel pulled towards closure they want to try again tbh. their feelings are active and shifting going from indifference to “oh shit i lost them” they see the relationship in a way they didn’t see before this urge to reach out could be impulsive they are rushing into it to say their piece it’s chaotic and not at all well thought out so it could lead to aggressive communication.

signs: gemini/libra/aquarius cancer scorpio

[haza8877]

Where will this decision lead you?

Hello everyone!🤗 How have you been these past few days? I'm back with a new pick a pile reading. I hope this reading can offer you some insight or guidance. But remember, the cards don’t make decisions for you or guarantee any outcomes—everything is relative and for reference only. Enjoy and have fun with this pick a pile reading!❤️🙏🏻

Pile 1 -> Pile 2 -> Pile 3

Pile 1

(The sun, The hierophant, 10 of wands / Oracle card - Saturn)

For pile 1, I sense a very serious energy surrounding this decision. This is undoubtedly an important choice for you, in every sense of the word. I feel that this decision not only impacts you personally but also carries significance in terms of reputation and tradition. It seems like some of you may be choosing to carry on a family or cultural tradition (perhaps continuing a family business or a local craft). For others, it feels like you have just completed an important phase of your journey and are now looking to level up (such as pursuing a master’s degree or advancing your expertise in a specialized field). Regardless of your specific situation, this is a decision of great importance and long-term impact.

I sense that this choice carries both a deep sense of pride and significant pressure, and you may already be aware of that. The pressure comes from discipline and structure. With The Hierophant and the Saturn oracle card appearing in this reading, both emphasize tradition, stability, discipline, and structure. Meanwhile, 10 of Wands highlights the burden and responsibilities you will face when choosing this path. I won’t say whether this decision is right or wrong because I don’t know your exact circumstances. However, what I can feel is that this choice will demand serious dedication and discipline. There will be many challenges and pressures, but if you fully commit, these challenges will only make you stronger and more resilient.

Overall, pile 1 reminds me of a saying:

"If you want to sit where no one else can, you have to endure what no one else will."

Pile 2

(8 of swords, 9 of wands, 9 of cups, The chariot/ Oracle card - Aries)

I feel that the direction of your choice is not entirely clear in this reading, so I won’t specify what kind of decision this is or what area it relates to. However, what I do sense is hesitation—you're hesitating before making this decision. It feels like you're stuck in a situation that frustrates you, one that you desperately want to escape from. Deep inside, there’s a fire burning, urging you to break free from this stuck energy. Yet, at the same time, fear holds you back, making you hesitant to take that step forward.

There’s a contradiction here—I feel that you know your own capabilities, yet at the same time, you don’t fully trust yourself. You might fear failure or worry that you won’t achieve the outcome you desire. And this inner conflict keeps you in a state of self-doubt and frustration. For example, you may be working in an environment where your skills and efforts are not being recognized as they should be. Deep down, you know you deserve more, but fear stops you from looking for new opportunities because you're afraid of failure.

Looking at the cards in this reading, if you choose to make this decision, I strongly feel that you will achieve what you’ve been dreaming of. I won’t say that the outcome will be something grand or unrealistic, but I can say with confidence that this decision will not lead to a negative result. Right now, it feels like you’re in a situation where you can’t fully express yourself—you can’t be who you truly are. You are talented, and you know it. Yet, in your current environment, you’re holding yourself back, unable to show your full potential. There is something restricting you, something keeping you trapped. If you take this step, you will likely find the freedom to be yourself, to feel more confident and independent. This decision may bring you a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction.

With the Aries Oracle card, the message is even stronger—you must be courageous enough to break free from this situation. I don’t feel like you are in a "comfort zone"; instead, it feels like a restrictive zone that is holding you back. Have you ever looked at someone else’s success and thought, "I could achieve that too because I know how to, I have the ability", yet you still feel stuck and powerless? If so, then if your decision involves breaking free from this limitation, don’t be afraid. Don’t hesitate any longer—what truly belongs to you is waiting for you ahead.

Pile 3

(The lovers, 7 of pentacles, King of wands/ Oracle card - Capricorn)

For pile three, I feel that you are torn between following your heart or listening to your mind when making this decision. Since I don’t fully understand the specific situation you are facing, I can only interpret the energy from the cards. And what I sense is hesitation—you are unsure whether to go with your emotions or to make a rational choice.

However, since this reading is about where your decision will lead you, I see that once you have made your choice, it will require you to invest a lot of time and perseverance, whether in work or relationships. But if you stay committed and patient with your choice, it will bring you well-deserved results—stability and security (if this decision is about work, it may lead you to a higher position, such as a managerial role or a promotion. If it’s about a relationship, it suggests a serious and stable connection.) I don’t see this as a decision that will yield quick results; rather, it will be a slow but steady journey.

For some of you in pile three, I sense that when you start seeing the initial results of your decision, you may feel a bit unsatisfied. However, this isn’t because the results are bad but because they might not fully match your expectations. It’s like planting an apple tree and hoping it will bear an abundance of fruit. The tree does produce apples, just not as many as you imagined, or perhaps they aren’t as big as you expected. There are many possible outcomes, but the key takeaway is that you will reap the rewards—you just need to avoid setting expectations so high that you can’t appreciate what you have achieved.

With the Capricorn Oracle card, the message strongly emphasizes perseverance, discipline, and dedication in order to reach your goals. Based on this reading, I truly believe that you will achieve well-deserved, solid, and lasting success.

This reading reminds me of a quote that I believe is the perfect advice for you:

"Choose with your heart, but execute with your mind."

Thank you all for following and supporting my readings. I have more readings and activities coming up, and I hope to continue receiving your support. Sending you love and light!❤️🙏🏻🪷💐🌸🫂

[brittle-doughie]

Hello! Since you said that you didn't get this, were sending this again. Wanted to know if you could right something for wind archer Cookie, I'm personally thinking about how he'd probably be a self aware yandere who knows what he's doing is wrong but can't help feeling and doing these things.

Like I'm just thinking about him finding us in beast yeast, and having to protect us and stay with us to keep us safe, even though he has other things to do and the darkness to fight. but at some point he has a chance to send us to a safe area (away from him), and he fights him self about it. His self indulge side wins

“The Baker’s safety is absolute.”

That’s what Wind Archer Cookie keeps telling himself as he heads back to the Cookie Kingdom. Yes, time was of the essence to tell the other Guardians about the existence of the Ultimate Cookie

But he just can’t help himself with trying to make sure that you were okay first. Just imagining what that Cookie can do to your kingdom and all that you’ve built is not resting well with him.

The Guardians would understand, right? He knew that they shared the same attachment to you as he did. Heck, he and the others might as well be your guardians too if they didn’t already have responsibilities as ones for the elements.

He knew that Sea Fairy and Moonlight particularly were close knit with you, it makes him narrow his eyes. Just exactly what can he do to help himself with getting closer to you…

He’ll have plenty to think about when he gets back to the Cookie Kingdom, to see you again…

Making sure you were okay…

[biancadoes1]

At least Nic solos are transparent in their displeasure with Luke, lol.

Luke solos in other hands… Most of the are shippers. Luke solos. Are shippers. Why? I have no idea. (Nah, I know. They just use Nicola to self-insert themselves in order to “be” with Luke);

And it’s easy to notice when they are the first ones to start lashing out at Nicola for every breath even before antis start doing so. Yet this subgroup of people are cowards who can easily hide behind Polin stans when someone calls out their disgusting behaviour so everyone gets gaslighted thinking they just said their “opinion”. But calling a woman a whore is not an opinion, Luke biased Lukolas.

It’s really weird how no one talks about them. And for some reason I feel like this one won’t be published too. Just wanted to say, if you see Nic solos - they are loud as hell so you can easily dodge these weirdos, while Luke ones are much more quieter. Yet they have the most disgustingly misogynistic attitude towards women ever, even while being Lukolas themselves. Please, call such people out because it’s going out of hands already.

Well it’s published, so guess again.

Here’s the thing: both sides are fucked.

If people love Nicola more, they criticize the shit out of Luke. If they love Luke more, they criticize the shit out of Nicola.

I’m not blind to this. I see this on Twitter all the time and it’s beyond stupid considering these two have openly talked about the love and friendship they share with one another.

I happen to appreciate both equally which is hard to find when you’re looking at stan accounts. But that’s the problem.

Stop looking at stan accounts. They’re going to be a bunch of nasty bitches that wanna hate and talk shit all damn day because it’s the only thing that fulfills them.

Luke and Nicola are fully aware that they have both people love and hate them. They’re living their lives while bitches fight on Twitter looking stupid.

We can call these people out left and right but they will remain and they will continue. These people can’t see the light when they’re buried under their own insecurities and self-loathing.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Hmmm... How about tails and knuckles' first day living with the Wachowskis?

This one was a really hard one to keep short because I’ve been wanting to write like a 15k fic about this very concept but i have to keep this short or i’ll be up all night and i have school tomorrow :’D | 1k

Wachowski House Day 1:

“Why don’t you just stay here?”

Tail’s tails flicked.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, where else would you go?” Sonic laughed. “Come ooon, we’re friends now! I can’t just let my pals go live in the garage.”

“I would pulverize the garage.”

“Do you even know what a garage is?”

“Of course I do.”

“I don’t think you do.”

Tails had genuinely never thought the Sonic the Hedgehog would ask him to stay, but he had. And he had never felt so giddy and relieved and terrified all at once.

“We’ll do sleeping bags first,” Maddie said. “Just until we get you two real beds.”

“I have no need for a bed,” Knuckles declared, thumping his fist against his chest. “As an Echidna warrior, I am accustomed to sleeping outdoors.”

“I’m sure an Echidna warrior like yourself wouldn’t pass up having a roof over your head if it was an option. You’re wise after all.”

Knuckles hesitated. Then he nodded. “Yes, I am wise.”

“Glad that’s settled then,” Maddie said. “Here’s your sleeping bag.”

Knuckles accepted it, bowing his head over it as he did so. “Thank you for this gift. I will guard it with my life until the time you wish for it to be returned.”

“How about tomorrow morning.”

“I, Knuckles the Echidna, swear to you that I will guard this bag of sleeping until morning.”

When Maddie handed Tails his sleeping bag, he almost bowed over it too. It felt like he’d been handed something important; it meant he was staying.

Sonic excitedly led them up to the attic.

“Just so we’re all aware, I do not snore, and anyone who told you that shouldn’t be trusted.”

“You do snore though,” Tails said without thinking as he looked around the room in awe.

“Aw man,” Sonic groaned. “You heard that too? Is there any time you weren’t watching me?”

Despite his complaining, he seemed relaxed as he sat on the edge of his bed. He wasn’t upset by it.

Knuckles was unrolling his sleeping bag with an intensity that wasn’t really required of the task.

Tails whipped out his scanner to find the place with the least draft while still being close to Sonic’s bed. He ended up sacrificing some of the best spots so he could be closer to Sonic anyway.

Snoring caught his attention. Sonic was laying down, his legs hanging over the side of his bed, dead asleep.

Tails had to muffle a laugh. “Only Sonic the Hedgehog,” he shook his head. He felt too giddy to fall asleep.

Or at least that’s what he thought until he blinked his eyes open and moonlight was streaming through the window.

Knuckles was sitting on his sleeping bag, eyes wide open.

Tails felt a little awkward around him still. He didn’t know how Sonic was so comfortable with him when they’d been fighting less than ten hours ago.

“Go to sleep, fox,” Knuckles told him. “I will keep watch.”

“Nobody’s gotta keep watch,” Sonic mumbled, rolling over, off his bed, and landing on top of Tails who gave a yelp.

“Are we killing the fox?” Knuckles asked, tilting head.

Tails' face was flushed from a weird mix of self-consciousness and panic.

“Sorry, Tails,” Sonic slurred out. He pushed himself off him. But instead of getting back onto his bed he just flopped down next to him. “Hey, Knuckles, would it be better if you were over here if you’re gonna stand guard?”

Knuckles considered that very seriously. “Very well.” He stood and dragged his sleeping bag over to them.

Tails tried not to flinch. But he did anyway. His tails curled around him.

Sonic noticed despite the fact that he didn’t seem fully awake, and he gave his arm a pat. “I gotchu.”

Without meaning to, Tails let out a long exhale. Somehow he felt less nervous after that.

Knuckles sat at their feet, piercing gaze fixed on the window.

“You could try sleeping.” Sonic suggested. He pat the ground next to him.

“No,” said Knuckles.

“What are you guarding for? The doors are locked.”

“Enemies can come at any time, hedgehog.”

“Yeah but what enemies are gonna know you’re here?”

Knuckles frowned.

Sonic yawned. “We’re tough enough to take anybody anyway. Even if they try a surprise attack, right?”

Knuckles looked like he hadn’t thought of that before. “Very well,” he said. “I will sleep. For a while.” He laid down on the wooden floor next to Sonic, his sleeping bag pulled over hsi torso, staring up at the ceiling.

He was snoring within seconds.

“There we go,” Sonic mumbled, his face squished against his forearm, hand under his head. “You good, Tails?”

“Yeah,” Tails whispered. Sonic had done all that just to help Knuckles relax enough to sleep, he was sure of it.

“How’d you feel about snuggles?”

Tails blinked. “What?”

“Hugs, y’know? Sleeping? Snuggles. Like, we hug, and then sleep. It’s really nice. I’ve done it with Tom and Maddie on the couch a few times.”

“Okay,” Tails whispered, despite how his fur seemed to itch.

Sonic gave him a smile even though his eyes were closed and opened his arms.

Tails buried himself into them after a brief moment of hesitation, worried he might change his mind.

“Oof,” Sonic huffed. His hand came to rest on Tails’ head. “Comfy?”

“Yes,” Tails said, his voice nearly lodged in his throat. He couldn't remember anyone ever letting him get this close, let alone put their arms around him like this.

“Cool,” Sonic drawled out, trailing into a yawn. “‘Mm gonna sleep now.” And just like that, he did. No comments on his tails, no comments on how weird it was to hold him, no pointing out how stiff and awkward Tails must have felt in his arms.

Tails tried not to move. He held his breath for as long as he could until he had to let it out, then he held it some more. He tried to take up as little space as possible. Sonic was already letting him this close, he couldn’t risk taking too much or he might ask him to leave, and that was the last thing Tails wanted.

Sleep didn’t exactly come easy after that, but he thought Sonic might be disappointed in him if he didn’t at least try to close his eyes.

[spyderslut]

Actively fulfilling the social roles wiliingly and otherwise. I get catcalled, I get talked over, i experience sexism in the same way a cis women does. Its unfortunate how much of womanhood is defined as opposition to the institution of sexism, but thats how society is at the moment. I experience the vast majority of what can be considered biological markers of womanhood, also. I live as a woman, with what that means being different to different people. A butch lesbian and a femme housewife are both living as women, but very differently. Its good, i suppose, that these roles that previously were considered so strict are falling to be more down to what the individual wants to do with them. A good friend of mine has elucidated as to this point quite well. She speaks more to the nonsense that is defining "biological womanhood" in particular, but its relevant here, so ill post it.

Anonymous asked:

“As a biologist, the terms biological woman and man don’t make any sense to me” okay then you’re an idiot and a terrible biologist. I swear to god, morons like you only become biologists just so you can hold it over others, when in reality, if biology deniers like you can become biologists, then being one really doesn’t mean much anyway. But this probably just gave an autogynophile like you a boner to read, anyway.

catboybiologist answered:

Oh fun! Haven't gotten one of these in a while. Disregarding the fact that you somehow think the qualification for being a biologist entirely hinges on defining womanhood, I do need to ask some clarification. I know I'm feeding the trolls here, but here we go: does your definition of "biological woman" mean:

Sociological woman? Eh, context dependent, I'm not fully out of the closet, but oftentimes, I am and present femme. So let's call that one 50/50.

Psychological woman? Because I am one.

Neurological woman? Because I am one [1].

Physical woman? My soft tissue redistribution is handling that well.

Hormonal woman? My blood tests are within cis female ranges.

Transcriptional woman? As a signalling molecule, the downstream effects of estrogen have broad transcriptional effects, completely changing the profile of gene expression and functional genomics of my cells. [2]

Genetic woman? I mean, see my above point- as far as my genes that are actually active, I have all of the same transcripts being produced, controlling which genes are expressed.

Karyotypic woman? I actually have a few signs pre-HRT that might point to a non-XY chromosome pair, but I haven't had a karyotype. We'll put that down as unknown. And hell, even if its XY, there's plenty of cis women who are karyotypically XY, with suppressed sry or complete androgen insensitivity. Interestingly enough, a completely androgen insesitive woman can go her whole life without knowing- and functionally, is very similar to a trans woman, actually. Fancy that. [3]

Reproductive woman? I can't produce an egg cell, but neither can significant fractions of cis women. Also, this is all gonna change soon, which is fun. [4]

There's also a lot of understudied aspects to the biology of HRT and even pre-HRT that are emerging, largely demonstrating widespread cellular and genetic remodeling of trans individuals undergoing hormone therapy. The field is a bit behind due to constant political pressure to revoke funding, but a lot of the results are extremely exciting in both testosterone and estrogen hormone therapies. I'm sure that, as a self professed biology As someone who presumably has a lot of expertise in biology, I'm assuming that you're aware of all of this cutting edge research, and are keeping up with modern papers, including but not limited to these cool findings:

Trans men on HRT exhibit significant genetic and transcriptional changes that make them biochemically male. [5][6]. It's a good hypothesis that the same happens with estrogen treatment, but those studies don't exist yet- I'm sure you're reserving judgment until more publications exist, of course.

Trans men on HRT develop male cell types and tissues. [7]

Trans women experience muscular and blood cell changes that align with cis women moreso than cis men [8]

And many, many more! This is an exciting, underserved, and groundbreaking field of research, and I'm sure you're keeping up with the latest in scientific journals about it.

I'm sure, of course, that you understand that it becomes impossible to draw a distinct line anywhere in here, and that words like "woman" are shorthand for the myriad of traits that invisibly synthesize in our mind and in society to represent a concept? I'm sure you understand that science is fundamentally descriptive, not prescriptive? I'm sure that you understand that these findings, while really cool and interesting, actually don't mean jack shit about what the word "woman" means or not?

As someone who is the ultimate decider in what a biologist is, I'm sure you know that bioessentiallism is a childish mindset that completely ignores and disregards the constantly changing, dynamic nature of biological systems, something that extends well beyond biological sex and its relation to gender.

I'm sure that also, that you understand that beyond just this, that the role of science in society is to advise how to achieve our moral principles, not create moral principles in themselves. And I'm sure that understanding means you know that trans affirming healthcare and supportive societal treatment leads to reduced mortality and increased happiness for everyone, right?

So great to talk to someone who is surely a scientist on this. You are a biologist, if you're talking like this, I assume? I assume you're not going to spit complete misreadings of scientific language from the background sections of these papers that only reveal you've never read a scientific paper in your life if you're thinking this way? I assume you have experience interpreting data like this?

Also, imagining my genitalia while writing this? Ew. Please stop projecting your fetishes into my inbox.

Works cited:

Kurth F, Gaser C, Sánchez FJ, Luders E. Brain Sex in Transgender Women Is Shifted towards Gender Identity. J Clin Med. 2022 Mar 13;11(6):1582. doi: 10.3390/jcm11061582. PMID: 35329908; PMCID: PMC8955456.

Fuentes N, Silveyra P. Estrogen receptor signaling mechanisms. Adv Protein Chem Struct Biol. 2019;116:135-170. doi: 10.1016/bs.apcsb.2019.01.001. Epub 2019 Feb 4. PMID: 31036290; PMCID: PMC6533072.

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and one more thing from me, I hope you have a good day, friend.

I'm not really sure why some transwomen/TIM are under the impression that radfems stating that TIM cannot physically be female or women somehow means they have to go back to adhering to what society expects of "a man."

It's quite the opposite actually. I WANT you to wear dresses and skirts and pink and heels and wear makeup and do whatever it is you like to do that makes you feel like you're somehow female, but I also want you to understand that those things DON'T make you female or have any proximity to womanhood. You're allowed to express yourself through fashion and personality without lying and claiming you're female

[i-cant-cast-that-yet]

Listen, I had a whole diatribe typed out train of thought style on aroace shen yuan, but I miss clicked somewhere and now it's gone but while I'm too tired to rewrite it all I'll give yall the spark notes.

Please keep in mind, this is mostly based on my specific experiences with being aroace-- as I myself am, and also me hard-core projecting. If this comes off as strange, it's because I'm a little strange myself. Also this probably makes no fucking sense so good luck.

Aroace Shen Yuan:

He's aware of PIDW Binghe being archetypically "hot," but doesn't personally get the appeal. He's seen the fanart, he's read through the copious amounts of papapa in the novel, he's aware that Binghe is suave n sexy n mysterious and that on paper he's supposed to be a chick magnet, but naturally shen yuan is straight so He's not into it obviously.

And you know what? I really do believe that pre-transmigration shen yuan wasn't actually attracted to fictional binghe. Not even in a parasocial or subconscious way. He was, however, definitely obsessed with his blorbo. It was about his deep fascination with the specific trope inversion binghe represented. It's the one thing that kept shen yuan engaged when the novel gradually took a nosedive beyond anything resembling a self-respecting internal narrative and fell face first into weekly updates of binghe's conquests and escapades. It's about how much shen yuan loved to read about binghe having to use his wits to overcome his obstacles when his early life disadvantages came to rear their heads and keep him from blasting through all obstacles. His weaknesses eventually made him strong, and even though that plot point was likely the first to disappear with the in-world discovery of xin mo, the promise that binghe might retain that level of intrigue kept him worth slogging through the rest of the novel.

That, and the longer the story goes on, the more tragic binghe's narrative becomes and the more protective shen yuan feels; the more righteous indignation the narrative evokes in him. Binghe is disrespected by the very text he's borne from in the perversion of his original wants. Binghe wants a home, love, stability, respect from his peers, and most importantly, he wants security and the apologies he was denied as a young boy. As the story goes on, these desires are given solutions that don't address the root causes via endless harem drama. This is likely because of xin mo exacerbating binghe's insecurities and amplifying his need for dual cultivation to manage his own unstable meridians, but for an ace shen yuan, this reliance on not only sex but meaningless sex with wives who because of circumstances outside of anyone's control cannot truly give binghe any of the emotional consolation he needs to work past his own issues, must have been infuriating. Add on the layer of vague disgust at having to be essentially coerced by an evil sword to rely on sexual encounters for both your physical wellbeing via cultivation, but also as a thinly veiled imitation of a coping method for binghe's complete lack of control over his childhood circumstances, and then to watch those real issues get chopped up into monster of the week papapa with whatever new fetish bait wife airplane has cooked up for the masses? I'd go fuckin bonkers too, man.

All of this to say, I think when shen yuan dies and ends up as shen qingqiu and then meets young binghe, he's probably intensely second-hand guilty alongside his terror and confusion. This is his Little Guy, his Big Terrible Dude, all wrapped up into a doe eyed, bruised little boy that he's supposed to bully now under threat of death. This is the little boy with so much kindness in his heart and so many more reasons to hate instead. This boy hasn't chosen hatred yet, but now shen yuan has to play his part in incubating that choice towards anger and self destruction and there's nothing he can really do about it.

He tries, of course, because shen yuan isn't going to let some nebulous system strong-arm him into abusing a child, even if in the end he can't avoid the truest of damning events in the endless abyss, he tries because he can't stomach letting this boy hurt more than fate is bound to force him to hurt himself.

But I'm losing sight of the point here. Back to the aroace funny bit.

I think that within the text of the canon svsss novel, we have enough textual evidence to safely call shen yuan demi. Yes, that man is deeply repressed, but something about his specific flavor of fond, resigned acceptance to binghe's actions post canon in relation to their marital bed n whatnot, I think he's attracted to binghe, but I don't think he's like...*attracted* attracted. This is where the grey area really begins. There's a sort of attraction that as an ace person I like, conceptually experience. The idea of having someone being like, handsome and having big muscles, and being into you, etc, that's all well and good in a vacuum, but in reality? Rather not.

I'd like to posit the idea of shen yuan being eventually comfortable trying to open up both to himself and to binghe largely because for the longest time, shen yuan still has the internal feeling that nothing in this world is real.

That binghe is still, at his core, fictional.

Idk about yall, but attraction to fictional characters is so much more palatable than attraction to a real individual. Mind you, I am actively aroace, and I've never dated in my 23 years alive, so this is real projection hours, but I digress, I myself have had a handful of crushes in my runtime that I've never bothered to act on out of pure disinterest in the act of romantic or emotional connection with others.

When you can't see yourself wanting to engage with the full complexity of another person on such an intimate level, either emotionally or physically, but you still feel deeply attached to them on a level bordering obsession, its...disconcerting to say the least. I feel like if shen yuan cared so deeply for binghe, would put up with his clingyness and his antics and his possessiveness, but never fully saw him as real? It'd be devastating if binghe even found out, and shen yuan really doesn't want to hurt him, but he can't manufacture a feeling where it doesn't exist. He's devoted to binghe, he enjoys making binghe happy, he wants to be with binghe, but he knows he isn't feeling the way his wives were written to feel about binghe and that makes him worry.

Sure, he feels 'a frission of heat' or whatever bs airplane had yapped about occassionally, and binghe's muscles do indeed 'bulge provocatively' quite often, but it's not the same, dammit. He loves binghe, but he's not quite sure he's in love with being in love. He's attracted to binghe, but none of the tropes he's been pushed into by the system have done anything but make him roll his eyes and sidestep whatever papapa plot line he's stumbled into.

And just maybe, it all makes him feel like he doesn't actually love binghe, and that he's been lying to him all over again. That he's doing exactly what shen yuan tells himself he was forced to do against his will, and that he's chosen to hurt binghe this way.

What shen yuan doesn't understand is that binghe realized a long ass time ago that his shizun isn't a very romantic person, but he is nothing but caring. That his shizun may not be a typical lover, but that couldn't matter less in binghe's eyes because shen qingqiu is choosing to keep binghe around even when it so clearly goes against what feels natural to the other man because he simply wants to have him around.

There's a lot to be said around the idea of "ace people can still love," and how it leaves a bad taste in my mouth as a predominantly aromantic individual, but that's neither here nor there, but I think there's something even more impactful to be spoken about people who can't, don't, or won't love in a "normal" or "typical" fashion, but who still choose to hold space for another in their life. For those who find themselves in love with someone who can't quite love them back "properly," but who yearn so strongly that they take what they can get. For those who don't need flowers and declarations of undying love, but a listening ear and a willing companion to spend their days with.

...

Also I think it would drive bingge up the fucking WALL trying to seduce his not-shizun and pulling out all the stops only for literally none of it to work lmao.

Anyway I'm gonna go rot in a corner at work now, lmk if I should like, elaborate further on anything or delete this haha

[fipindustries]

there is no need to be angry any more

so that was it.

that was the ending of jennyffer.

long long ago, back in 2008, i made a deviant art account and i started sharing my works online. i made the very concious and very deliberate choice back then, to fake it until i made it. every time i posted something, every time i updated my journal, every time i left any kind of note for a potential audience, i would talk with the register and confidence of someone speaking to a huge audience of adoring fans. would apologize for delays, i would advertize big ambitious porjects i had in the works (which i never finished or published). i would explain what i was going for with every work as if i had my dms filled with questions and fan theories.

much of that was me mimicking the style with which pretty much everyone posted at the time in deviant art. i did this when i only had like 4 followers there.

i carried this attitude with me when i came to tumblr and started posting my work here, but it wouldnt find much use until i started my webcomic Disregarding Reality back in 2016. in there, much like i did in deviant art, i would post extensive authors notes explaining my thought process behind every strip, id make announcements, id update people on my schedule, i make big celebrations of milestones achieved and would give tearful gratitudes to my audience for sticking with me all those years. again, i did all this for an audience of probably less than ten people.

a part of me was perfectly aware that this was all theatrics, it was me roleplaying as a famous artist and comic creator, because that had always been my dream, to be recognized for my art. it wasnt even necesarily fame what i was looking for. i was perfectly content to be someone on the same tier as, say, tom sidell or zach morrison or scott dewitt. someone with a well liked webcomic who could feed a relatively small but loyal group of fans that would spurn discussion, analisis and fanart. that was the thing i was looking most of all, praise i can do without, i wanted engagement, i wanted analisis, i wanted the kind of fan interaction that is measured in fan content. i wanted reviews, even bad reviews, it meant people were thinking about my work.

one thing i started with disregarding reality was to make small self contained story arcs, that is where we got mama bird, soft boys, hexen snatch and the begginings of max splosive.

and every time i concluded one of this arcs i would post a giganting wall of text as a sort of retrospective, an after game analisis, where i would explain what i was going for, what inspired me to do this, how was the process of creating the thing and to what degree i succeeded or failed. i did the same for my novel there is a crack in the world.

and is time to do the same for Jenniffer. except this time is special, is it not?

this time i do have an actual, proper audience.

this is no longer theatrics, this is no longer me roleplaying, now there are a significant ammount of people listening.

dreams do come true after all.

in many ways that was the second greatest success of this project. the fact that i actually garnered a following of some kind. to be sure, i doubt there are more than a hundred people who have seen jennyffer, but that is irrelevant to me, i got engagement, i got comments and analisis and fanart, that was all i ever wanted and i got it. i am realized, i am fulfilled.

the actual biggest success of this project id say is the fact that people got me. people truly understood what i was going for. i have heard many analisis of what is art in the last few months, wether there is such a thing as objective criticism of art, what is art for, what is the purpose of art, why we make art. and one position i heard over and over again was that art is not for communication. you know, death of the author and all that, what the creator meant has no bearing on the work and the experience of the work itself.

and yet i cannot help but disagree on some level, because if so what else can i call jennyffer other than an absolute triumph of conveyance. people understood it, time and time again i would see comments where people descrive pointedly, incisively, precisely what i was going for. i felt seen. so in that regard, im going to pin the blue ribbon upon my chest, sorry barthes.

there is a lot more that i want to say about this project, loads and loads. do you have any idea how many easter eggs i hid? how many references? do you know whats the story behind the little dinosaur painting in the therapist office? do you want to know?

well all those questions and more will be answered in the ~JENNYFFER COMMENTARIES~

thats right, every week on my patreon, starting today, ill be posting two videos (thats right TWO) with a director's commentary of a jennyffer episode. so if you want to know all the cool super secret details you can go to my patreon and subscribe, these are going to be patreon exclusive so i wont be releasing them to the public for a long long long time, sorry! i gotta eat!

***

Now i want to end this with a talk about the characters themselves in this story. Jennyffer and Peter.

They are based on many many different things, things that i have descrived many times in the past. but one thing i want to put emphasis on is that they are very much two sides of myself. the sensitive, morally punctillious and enciclopediacly nerdy Peter, and the assertive, sarcastic and ebullient Jenny. those who have known me for a while would have seen my inner peter poke out whenever in talking about some interest of mine, or when i first met them and want to cause a good first impression, or when im kinda tired or melancholic. and they would have also noticed my inner jenny get out whenever im salty, or stuck in debate mode, or excited or enthusiastic.

They are two lovely kids. they are endearing, they are funny, they are a little messy and sometimes a bit too much to handle. but it was an absolute delight and a priviledge to have them live in my head for four years and im very greatful that i had the time, the energy and the will to bring them to life.

now, as they grow old and mature and have to get ready to leave their mother's house for college i do have to let them go, im going to miss them a lot and im sure they will ocassionally come back to visit. but is time for them to do their own think. all i can do is say goodbye and thenk them for letting me tell their story.

best of luck to both of you

[bots-and-cons]

hi! saw requests were open and was wondering if you could do an ask where the human reader gets infected with dark energon but instead of being dangerous it turns them into a sort of herald of unicron, and the reader is constantly going back and forth from being there normal self with the bots to trying to fight off unicrons influence on their mind

A/N: You didn't really clearly mention who you wanted, so I just did who I felt like writing lol. Idk what this is, but it's what you get, I hope it's fine

You got exposed to dark energon, because of Megatron and you started acting strange

It wasn't really even noticeable at first, but it kept getting more intense

Ratchet was the first to notice, because he spends the most time with you, since he doesn't go on missions often and is usually at the base

You started hearing these whispering voices, and they kept getting louder over time

You didnt' even notice you'd started talking back to the voices, before Ratchet asked you about it

It didn't seem like you were just talking to yourself, so he got worried

He of course reported this to Optimus, so he was aware of what was going on with you

Optimus made the decision that you should stay at the base for the time being, until the effects subsided

You would've probably started some sort of cult if they let you around people

Eventually you started speaking about some really weird stuff, like how "Unicron will rise again" and "The end is near"

All kinds of doomsday stuff

Bee was kind of weirded out by all the stuff you were saying, because you really seemed to believe it when you were under Unicron's influence

Of course so was everyone else, but Bee especially for some reason

They were all worried about you, because even though time went by, the effects didn't seem to go away

When you were under the influence of the dark energon you also tried to sometimes sabotage the autobots, though you didn't realize you were doing it

When Ratchet was using different kinds of equipment, sometimes they would be broken or something

He of course knew it was you, but he couldn't really blame you since you were under the influence of Unicron, but it still annoyed him a lot

So someone had to kind of follow you around a lot of the time, to make sure you didn't do anything dangerous or break anything crucial

Bee, Arcee and Bulkhead sort of took turns babysitting you when you were going on about Unicron and wandering around the base

On the other hand, sometimes you're just fully yourself, and you have only little memory of the whole episode

Arcee especially thinks it's unnerving how the situation just changes so quickly and without warning

She keeps a really keen eye on you, because she wants to make sure you're safe and that you don't sabotage anything