#but even 20 years later they still don't sleep enough and spend all their time writing and they love their hot topic shirt and boots)

[handweavers]

i have come such a long way with my social anxiety/phobia like i cannot stress enough how bad it used to be, when I was 10-15 i couldn't leave my bed let alone my house because the thought of being seen by people and interacting with them would cause severe panic attacks . couldn't talk in public could barely talk in private couldn't be witnessed would literally sleep during the day and stay up all night just because i couldn't bear being awake when other people were because interacting with others gave me such bad panic attacks (and it wasn't because my family was abusive, but it was worse when i was around my abusive father to the point where i physically could not move or speak because i was so scared) and i haven't been that bad in a very long time. but i never recovered from spending so many years essentially in isolation and that deep anxiety and fear will never truly leave me, and it sneaks up on me still in ways that literally ruin my life

and it's not even due to like harmful thought processes anymore or whatever CBT stuff, i dealt with all of that back then, it's solely a physical reaction now and it still gets me sometimes so badly like full blown panic attacks can't move can't speak drenched in sweat and dizzy and internally im just desperately trying to get myself to calm down and speak because it's not that serious but my body doesn't cooperate. and it's really frustrating because no matter how many years of work i do to grow past this i've been in therapy since i was 12 yrs old for it and i'm in my late 20s now and its still a constant battle. and i really resent the reputation that social anxiety has where it's viewed as juvenile or pathetic or something easily overcome, maybe some people develop it later in life and are able to overcome it but i've had it my entire life and it ruined my childhood and teenage years and still ruins my ability to function in the world. it's fucking humiliating and talking about it is humiliating because i don't want to be this way and i've been trying for so many years and no matter what i do its always here

[thehopelessexception]

is it just me?

i've been observing a tendency surrounding women —mostly between 20 and 26— where we can't find anything close to love (from men). women are not dating, nor living a normal life, developing a femcel-like point of view. and im saying this because i want to be loved just like anyone else, but are we the problem? or is there something wrong with boys? i mean, ofc there's something wrong with boys; but every year pass by and every time is harder and harder to find someone willing to put the effort to make you feel loved and understood. was it like this 50 years ago? 100 years ago? i am very much aware that our mothers and grandmothers suffered in the world they lived in, generally with sexist husbands and mandatory tradwife lifestyle. but i am also sure that there was some exceptions, way too many more than today.

and we tend to romanticize the past, probably there's something to do with our generation. nor millennials or gen z, the ones in the middle. the girls who grew up with enough technology but not so much. the ones that went crazy over boybands and fanfiction and hung up posters in our walls. the ones that went crazy in 2018-2020 with deranged feminism just to realise, later on, nobody really cared and it maybe was a little over the top. the ones that filled our beds with stuffed animals repeatedly every time we woke up just to throw them on the floor at night so we could sleep. the girls who spent their teenage years on tumblr writing code (before men took that away from us) and making playlists of marina lana and the 1975 so everyone on the internet could see how cool we wanted to look like. probably the ones that suffered some kind of bullying in highschool or some health problem related to how we didn't fit in or how bad we looked at ourselves in the mirror (yk what i mean). we weren't the cool kids in real life or it was just me?

now i'm observing how hard it is to adapt that teenager to adult years. and maybe it's me but i don't feel like an adult. i am a tiny ball of anxiety. i suffer too much stress. i am trying to finish my degree but i don't know if im worthy of anything because i dont have money, and i don't have time to work and study at the same time because i spend too many time thinking about it and feeling a fraud and a failure.

i don't know how to talk to boys either —nor girls, in that way—. and until some days ago i was quite sure i was willing and capable of spending my whole life alone. i've given up to anything because i felt it imposible to be loved. but lately my mind goes up and down with that scene of jo monologue in little women by gretta gerwig. and it also goes with the hot priest monologue of fleabag. and today i rewatched the classic he's just not that into you. are we condemned to be the tedious rule? am i?

i've seen all of my girlfriends suffering the same mysery. and i've seen the extremes. women giving up the love they deserve —because they accepted the fate of being the rule— by dating a jerk just because they are afraid of loneliness. and i've also seen women giving up everything else just because they are not willing to give up love. those are us. hopeless romantics who watched way too many romantic comedies and somehow still expect to find someone willing to die for us just like dicaprio in romeo + juliet. —or at least a patrick verona—.

what i've never seen was actual love. all the couples i met... they don't look happy. they don't look in love. they don't look like they enjoy their own company even. they look exactly like a picture of instagram. they exist just to make us feel miserable even when it's obvious they are not gonna last. i've seen couples of what? 7 years? gone. broken up. they grew tired of each other and of course they never looked like they had anything close to sparkles in their eyes. chemistry? none. and maybe it is my anxiety speaking but i don't want that. i refuse to have that. i want all or nothing. i want always and forever. i want everyone to look at us and think "if i don't have that i'll kms". i want family —even tho im not sure i want to get pregnant, what am i a childbride?—. i don't want to change anything to fit in with the standards of a boy. i want marriage even tho im not sure i want to be legally married. i want the posibility, the future. i want the emotions surpassing myself. i want to not know me anymore and then knowing me again. i want to doubt myself. i want my heart beating so fast i could kill someone for them. i want to believe god exists. i want to laugh of happiness without they making a joke. i want my sundays to not be deppresing because i can hang out with the love of my life and have fun. i want to be the "and yet" of someone willingly enough to fall for me every single day even if i am kinda insane all the time. i want someone who cares. someone who fantasizes with spending the rest of their lives with me and is going to put the effort to get to know every single thing about me and stay because he's blown away. and aparently that's setting the bar "too high" because we are the rule and not the exception.

people always assume that by being a romantic i expect flowers every day and cheesy comments about how beautiful i look; and that would actually make me want to puke because i can do that myself. i am confortable with myself, i like myself, i love myself, i have the ego. i am not really asking for that much i just want someone to love me with every single thing that's probably wrong with me. what i want is someone curious and smart. someone who pays enough attention or wants to. i want the chemistry off the roof.

and contrary to anyone's beliefs the bar is too low about everything else. every single girl probably wants the same thing. is it that hard for men to understand that women want to feel loved?

lately —worldwide— it's all a competition of genres as if humanity doesn't need us to interact to survive. it's a loop that opened up in 2013? with the tumblr-4chan gate and right now got translated to the real world because pick-mes are back and being a man is cool. and suddenly that's how nature works!! because apparently women are boring and just a hole. maybe they all need to go all alexander the great. but it's getting boring. and we as women deserve love as much as respect.

[unforth]

I've been trying for ages to figure out how to put something into words about The Youth In Fandom and I still don't think I've quite got it but I did reach an insight about it that I think is valuable enough that I'm gonna take a stab at writing it.

For starters, I want to make it clear, there is no "The Youth In Fandom Problem." Based on my efforts running the art sideblogs for danmei fandoms, I can say with a fair degree of confidence that a vast minority of people of all ages are antis, purity wankers, pro-censorship, ageist, etc. Even among people who mark their bios with their age, it's a shockingly low percentage of people under 18 who are being super weird about this stuff, and I think that's something a lot of older folks bemoaning The Younger Generation could stand to know and be reminded of. This isn't a majority, it's just a vocal minority, and tbh...that vocal minority has always been there, at least in my own fandom experiences.

That said, I've personally been the target of "y r u in fandom, old woman? Go take care of your kids!" bullshit, and yes it's definitely real and yes it definitely happens. (I am not old, I am not a woman, I was here before the people who said that to me were born, and I spend all the rest of my time taking care of my kids, so...).

All that introduction is to posit a theory:

The kinds of people who say "you should grow out of it, you're too old for fandom, etc." don't actually really...like what they like.

I know that sounds batshit. They're here blogging about it 24/7, of course they're obsessed! But I really genuinely find myself wondering...like...are they actually obsessed? Or are they just performing obsessed because that's what their peer group is doing? Are they just following along with their friends, mimicking their friends' enthusiasm, going with the flow because they're scared of what will happen if they say "actually I didn't think that show was very good"?

I ended up with this as a theory to posit because is to arrive at "you should grow out of it," you have to start with "I will grow out of it." And to get to "I will grow out of it," you have to start with "I may be into this now but I will definitely Change." And to get to "I will definitely Change," you have to start with the base assumption that loving certain types of media isn't just part of who you are, but rather a temporary persona you've assumed overlaying some deeper Self that will be revealed with time - or that's already been revealed and that you're deliberately masking for whatever reason.

Lemme put it less abstractly (but more longwindedly, lmao).

When I was 16, I was fucking terrified. There were all these things I loved - Star Trek, Hercules and Xena, Babylon 5, Slayers, Evangelion, Fushigi Yuugi, the Wheel of Time, many others - some I'd been into for years, some I'd only just discovered. And I looked at the adults in the world around me, who didn't sleep with stuffed toys, who got into long-term romantic and sexual relationships, who settled into careers that they stuck with for 20, 30, 40 years, who had heaps of responsibilities, and it was so frightening I literally had trouble sleeping at night. My senior year of high school, I trained myself to sleep with a pillow instead of a stuffie because "what would people in college think if they saw me snuggling a stuffed wolf?" That was something I was prepared to sacrifice to be An Adult (tm), something I was (irrationally) ashamed of, something that wasn't so much a part of my personhood that I couldn't give it up. When I left home to go to school at 17, I left my wolf at home. (I brought him with me a year later, and he's now on my bookshelf. Less disposable than 16-year-old me thought, as it turns out, but that's another story.) But there were things about myself I wasn't prepared to sacrifice to fit in during college. I still wore my Star Wars shirt. I still hung my anime posters. I still listened to J Pop. My roommate might judge me. My classmates might judge me. My professors might judge me. I didn't care. Loving those were part of who I was, and I wasn't prepared to give that up.

I found solace by looking at the adults in my life who hadn't had to give up their "childish fancies." I looked at my mother, who introduced me to Star Trek, and thought if she didn't have to stop loving Star Trek to be An Adult, then why should I? I looked at my grandfather, on whose bookshelves I first found the Lord of the Rings, and thought if he didn't have to give up LotR to be An Adult, then why should I? They might not wear fandom shirts, they might not go to conventions, they might not engage in the same way that I did, but they still loved these things, and it gave me hope.

When I was saw adults who still did fan things, who dressed how they wanted, who had cool hair styles or colors, who had tattoos, I thought "wow, what a cool person. I hope I get to grow up to be like them. I hope I'll be that comfortable in my own skin when I'm that age, because I'm sure not that comfortable in my own skin NOW."

I'll have to change in some ways - find A Career, figure out this "attraction" thing everyone keeps fucking talking about, buy a house, all the rest - but I'll be able to love the things I love.

I will still be "me" when I'm an adult, just Me-Plus-More.

I wanted to grow up to be that adult. I was prepared to take figurative arrows, to fight, to slog through, to retain the part of me that felt most valuable - my ability to love the things I loved without apologizing for it. And I knew I could do that, because I already had. Man, the shit people gave me in middle school for being an out-and-proud Trekkie? smh. It was baaaaad.

Time passes. Now I'm 40, and yes, I have changed. I've had more than one career. I got married. I figured out I never did have to figure out that "attraction" shit because I learned asexuality existed and. uh. Oh. I had children. I bought a house.

And I still have a bookcase of manga and I still have a Tumblr blog and I've found new fandoms - many, many new fandoms - nearly all for franchises that didn't even exist when I was 16 and so so scared that I used to literally break down and cry over the prospect of "having" to "give up childish things."

I got myself through on the belief that I'd still be me, and I was right. More than 20 years later, I AM still me.

And that's what leads me back to "why do The Youth think they'll age out of fandom?" And it leads me back to "I can only assume their fandom participation is mostly performative." Because look. This is who I was when I was 10 and read Lord of the Rings, and it was who I was when I was 12 and I started watching Star Trek when Voyager debuted, and it's who I was when I was 17 and I pulled an all-nighter to watch the second season of Fushigi Yuugi, and it's who I was when I was 21 and spent my birthday totally sober and gaming with my friends, and it's who I was at 26 when I got buried up to my eyeballs in Supernatural, and it's who I was at 37 when I watched The Untamed and knew as easy as breathing oh my god I've found the next obsession.

If it's an embraced, realized, adored part of your persona, there's absolutely no reason to think it's going to go away. And there's no reason nor need for it to. There are always gonna be people who judge others for having passions, and there are always gonna be people who embrace others for having passions, and you just gotta identify and avoid the former and find and adore the latter. If you're young, and you love fandom, and you're afraid you, too, will "have to" give up childish things...congratulations! You've got nothing to be afraid of! You never have to change that aspect of yourself!

But...I know these teens on Tumblr who are bullying others already know that because they can see us everywhere. And instead of going, as I did, "oh wow, those older people who still love the things they love are cool! how reassuring! I can be like them!" they think "EW OLD PERSON NOT ALLOWED THIS IS MY ROOM DO NOT ENTER."

And that's weird. When I try to think, "What kind of mentality would lead someone to feel that way, act that way, etc.?" I arrive at: being in fandom is something that they're embarrassed about. Something they're ashamed of, that they think is shameful. Something childish and therefore only for kids, even when the media they're a fan of is entirely made for and by adults. Something they think is made for them in that moment but that they'll be able to easily discard when they move on to more important parts of their lives. Something they know in their heart is transient. Something they're just doing because their friends are doing it.

That's when they'd think "why would an adult still do this?"

When it's something you "know" will be "just a phase," you don it like you don the identity of "high school student," something that'll get shucked a minute after graduation.

And while I found the idea of giving up fandom terrifying, I again can only assume that for these type of person, NOT giving up fandom becomes something terrifying. "Of course this is transient. Of course I'm going to change. I can't wait to change, I hate who I am now! Why did these so-called adults not change? Changing to not like this kind of thing is a sign of Maturity and Adulthood that I am eagerly waiting for, because I believe there's something wrong with being this way, and therefore I assume the adults I see doing this are immature, have something wrong with them, are childish, cannot be Doing Adulthood Right, because they didn't give up the thing."

"I know, in my heart, that I can't WAIT to change, so if they don't want to change, if they haven't changed, something must be wrong with them."

And don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this is the only reason. People are way too complex for there ever to be One Explanation Of All. I'm sure some of the teens who engage in ageist bullying just think they're ~cool~ and ~different~ and their name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Others are just uncomfortable with adults, with or without cause, and think "you don't belong in the same space as me." Some surely have drank the conservative kool-aid even as they've tried to change and are pantomiming the bullshit they were fed by those around them in new and unpleasant ways. Some think "this media was made for people like me and anyone who isn't like me can't possibly be engaging it in the Correct And Proper Way."

Some will grow out of it - out of fandom, or out of thinking that being an adult in fandom is wrong/bad/inappropriate/immature/whatever.

A few especially unpleasant ones...won't.

Unlike young!me, who looked at fannish grown ups and thought "wow, I could grow up to be like them, they're so cool!", you think "ew, I hope I don't grow up to be like them, they're so weird!"

And if that's you...why are you here?

If you don't actually like who are you when you're in fandom, that's okay. You don't have to stay. If you lose your friends because your interests change, then those friends stink and you didn't need them anyway; people who actually care about you will always keep by your side even if your interests and theirs diverge. But just cause YOU are performing your interest in fandom...doesn't mean the rest of us are. Some of us genuinely like it here. And you might think that's fucked up of us, but it's honestly none of your fucking business. You do what you gotta do to grow up, and leave the rest of us already-grown-ups alone.

And if you do genuinely love it and you're just scared because you think you'll have to change - that you'll reach some mystical age of majority and suddenly wake up a different person...you won't. For better and for worse, you'll still be you, so if there's things about yourself you don't like, it'd be better to start working on unpacking that psychological baggage now, because there's never gonna be a miracle point where you Feel Better And Like An Adult unless you put in the effort to change.

Teenagers...you will not grow up to be a new person. You will never give up who you are. You will grow up to be You-Plus-More.

And if that's something you hear and go "omg that's great news!" then I'm glad to be the one who told you. Take heart. There's hope. You can be you and that WILL be okay. You can face up to and grow from the things about yourself you don't like. You can learn more about yourself. You have time, and you will be able to improve yourself, to become more like the parts of yourself you like and less like the parts you hate.

And if that's something you hear and go "oh god no that's the worst" then you need to stare that reaction in the face and understand that the only way change is coming is if you make it happen for yourself. No one is strong-arming you into being a fan. If it's not for you...then stop. It's literally that easy. But don't take out your uncertainty and fear on other random people who are more comfortable with themselves than you are. Most of us are not here because of fear. We're here in the face of our fear, as a fuck you to our fear, because we also grew up being told we'd have to give up so-called childish things to be An Adult, and it turns out that was a pile of bullshit and we can have careers AND anime posters. And we can afford more anime posters, cause our parents are no longer telling us how to spend our money.

If your participation in fandom is primarily performative...just stop performing. Be yourself, and find your OWN passion, and stop shitting on the people who have managed to be more true to themselves and their own interests. You're not cool and edgy and different; you're just an asshole and a bully, and I pity you.

Anyway as you can tell from this rambly mess of a post, I haven't really gotten my finger on my point yet, but idk. I've been thinking about this and I think there's something there???

[littlecatfishgoddess]

Your last post, about edging and sending, is so fucking evil. You probably don't even have a clue. That happened to me with another Domme. I thought it was just a fun way of combining gooning and financial domination. It was so much worse. It nearly ruined my life. The denial kept me wired constantly. Could only sleep for an hour or two at a time, before I would wake up horny and confused. I would hold off and tell myself not to send today. But the arousal would keep building. Then I would suddenly see something that triggered me and I say to myself "I'll just send $1 a bunch of times. Just keep sending till I reach the edge." Of course, after stopped, I was even more insanely horny and desperate than before. And much more likely to do it again a few minutes later.

Gradually it started feeling lame, but by that time I already spend a few 100s and I did not want to cum and quit. I was "invested" in it. However, the edges were hard to get and less satisfying than ever.

I started sending $5 sends instead. That made it more intense. I'd send 6-7 times and get to the edge that way. But one time I accidentally double tapped and typed $55.

Instead of deleting the extra digit, I froze. Something in my head told me: "Fuck! If I sent $55 that would be so FUCKING INTENSE!". I was still stroking while thinking this and that didn't give me time to think clearly. At that point, either I would stop or press the the "pay" button. Fuck CA, I hate that app. Ruined my life.

I hit pay.

A flood of adrenaline hit me like a brick wall. I was sweating, heartbeat fast like crazy, couldn't breath. What the fuck did I do? I payed $55 just to stroke my cock a couple of times. Fucking idiot.

I literally threw my phone away from me. I was pissed at myself. What a fucking waste of money!

But my cock was throbbing so hard. Instant edge. Had to stop in fact, but it was like I stayed on the edge for a good ten minutes after, without touching.

Looking back it was such a rush. I don't think anything could beat that. Except there was something that could.

I forced myself to get up and do other things and clear my head. Swore never to do any of that shit again. Domme shrugged and told me to go ahead and take a break.

Jerked off like a maniac and came 9 times in 2 days. I thought that was the end of it.

Next week, I was back. Same rules. No touching unless I am actively sending. No orgasms only edging. She said "you will be a mindless ATM". I actually thought that was hot. Fucking moron!!

I thought this time I'd be more careful. Keep the sends small. Be cool. Just a hot way to make the edge more intense. Wasn't working though. I mean it worked just enough to keep me hooked, but not enough to give me any lasting satisfaction.

I would start with $5 sends. Between typing the numbers, choosing the recepient, pressing pay (fuck the shape of that pay button is still branded in my mind's eye), hit confirm a bunch of times, I could stroke for maybe 10 seconds before it was time to stop... or send again.

Of course I needed to do it again. After the third or fourth time, things would start get going. By going I mean, the voice in my head would start saying: "double it, it will make it so much more intense! Do it, I dare you!" I would try to argue, resist, but then something else would happen. I'd started spacing out.

Probably because of sleep deprivation, or all the hypno stuff I watched for years, I started getting in the habit of basicaly trancing out. Fuck, I wasn't even looking at porn. It was just an app with numbers, and I was jerking off to it while my mind would go blank. I would quickly turn into a fucking zombie. And soon I'd send $10 a couple of times. Instant rush, but not enough to get to the edge. Then I'd send $20. I could not stop myself. I had to continue and gradually send more until I reached the edge. I tried to stop before I reach the edge a few times, but it did nothing for me. Worst than nothing, it was like I wasted the opportunity and money for no reason. No, I HAD to get to the edge.

Long story short. I ended up with a routine. Wake up in the middle of the night. Start stroking and sending $5 dollars. Then start doubling till I reached an edge. Each edge would end up costing me $400 to $1000. I would edge fall asleep. Wake up an hour later, do it again. 3-4 times a night and more during the day. And the "sessions" would only take a minute or two. It was fucked. I was fucked. I was so so fucked. I still am. I am so fucking triggered right now just writing this. I want to do it again. But I am broke and that's the only thing keeping me from relapsing. I have to cum 3-4 times a day just to keep myself from spiraling. Lost over 30K I think and I hate myself. This fucking ruined my life. I will NEVER be able to have normal sex. I will always crave to chase that thrill. Nothing else comes even close. It's like jerking off at the edge of a cliff with a gun pointed at my head. Gooning is a joke compared to the massive dopamine hit I got from this. This shit should be illegal.

You probably won't post this, but you should go fuck yourself for posting about this stuff. I pray to god nobody else ever tries it.

lol... that's hot.

Anyway: Send

[pompadourpink]

Bonjour! I just saw the ask of the lost 17 year old and I cant help but feel like Im in a similar position. I'm 28 years old and I feel like I shouldve figured out what I want to do in life. I feel like I wasted my 20s on simply going with the flow and "ill figure it out later" mentality. I've also recently been fired from a job I should love but after three months I found so boring. I stayed there for a year just to get some exeprience. Now that Im unemployed again I get rejected over and over again and feel so useless. Even for jobs Im excited about the passion fizzles, and I dont even know what I want to do. Or what I'm even good at anymore.

Hello dear,

Dr Write too much, PhD, is back in the office, woohoo!

One, you're not supposed to have an epiphany one night and find out what your calling is. You don't have one. You're not a machine. You're a brain in a meat suit and you came without instructions, which means you don't have a function. Capitalism put us in this position. Existing is enough, and work is a human invention - food and shelter originally didn't have a price tag. We tend to think of the Ancient Greeks as the most advanced, wisest civilisation there's ever been. Do you think they wondered about what their manager is going to say if they dodged their phone call at 9pm on Friday or lost sleep over getting ghosted on Tinder? No, they had a lot of wine, a lot of bread, a lot of sex, and walked around in beautiful gardens with their companions. And they didn't feel bad about it. Why would they?

Two, you can reinvent yourself as many times as you want. Storytime!

When I went to Rome for my birthday back in 2018, I bumped into a Colosseo guide named Tahar who was around my boomer father's age and so happy to make a friend he started telling me about his life over breakfast, how he had studied physics, loved the stars, never had a family so he travelled a lot, had been in Rome for about a month, and gotten the job by hanging out around the Colosseo and having little talks with other guides in French, English, Arabic and broken Italian until their boss decided to hire him just because he was friendly. He even confessed that at night, he would go and have a drink in fancy bars to try and find tourists to sell tours to at a higher price so he could pocket the difference.

At the time, I was nearly 26, ten days away from leaving a terrible minimum-wage job, had lived in the same area of the country my whole life and the same city for 8 years, had a recently broken heart and was still recovering from a severe case of mononucleosis that is still to this day the worst pain I've ever felt.

I didn't stay in touch with Tahar because he got flirty and started insinuating that it wasn't too late for him to settle down and have a kid or two while holding my hands and that was not going to happen. However, I still think about him once in a while, when I catch myself being paralysed by fear of the unknown.

My guy had nothing, no house, furniture, wife, kids, local friends, parents, savings, was paid to ramble about history and make jokes in the sunshine, lived paycheck to paycheck; and he was happy, tanned, eating fruit and drinking wine with a huge smile on his face nella bella Roma, kilometres away from thinking of himself as a failure. He was doing exactly what he wanted, and where, and when, and with whom, and while he clearly wasn't a role model, he is the one person I have ever met who lived life on his own terms and is 100% going to die without regrets.

Three, take a step back. I talked about it recently but it is vital that we calm down and stop chasing numbers and short-lived adrenaline. Go spend a day outside, at the beach, in the countryside, the mountains - it doesn't matter, just away from home, and lay down, relax, and listen to what the world has to say to you. We all love to think that happiness is our number one priority, but it is rarely the case - I hinted about it in the 17-year-old post: if you think of your perfect day and compare it to your current circumstances, those two lists would be very different. We keep talking to people who make us miserable, eating stuff that gives us tumtum aches, wearing shoes that hurt our feet, and wonder why we are upset and can't sleep well.

And I'm guilty of that too. I have always had that mental image of the seaside, a walk on the beach, the sun, a dog, lavender ice cream, a man and a couple of kids running around, and then home, a movie, a blanket, the fire. I don't have any of that. I live in a very grey city, alone with my geriatric cat, working all day long, not knowing where to go, changing my mind constantly, thinking maybe I should just stay here and keep saving money for a house, drowning in my routines like a little hamster on a wheel. I love my life, but I'm not satisfied yet, because like you, my 20s were spent differently, and now I'm trying to catch up a little.

The truth is that I'll never be where my former classmates who took a different path are, but they will also never be where I am. They have more regrets than me. They look at my life, my freedom, my absence of morning alarm, my joy, my projects, my head full of dreams, and they envy me. I am *that girl* who spent an hour this morning looking up how to move to Barcelona as an entrepreneur within the Schengen space. You are her too, people just won't tell you.

So what do you do now? You find a part-time job you're not going to hate and won't have to take home at night so you can pay bills, you look for your joy until you find it, you explore your interests, figure out your goals, maybe see if you have a (current or potential future) skill you could use to start a side-business, alone or with another person, whether it's baking or tailoring, that you could do routinely without hating yourself after a while, and spend your free time doing exactly what you want. If it fails, the end of the road is very far away and you can always try again.

It won't be a waste of time. That's not how time works.

Love,

Mum

[bardic-perdita]

20, 26, 27, 29, 30 for the tav asks! (as usual, for all the fellas :> )

Thanks for the asks! The never-ending wall of text returns, despite my best efforts to summarise XD

Answers under the cut:

Breoch

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

Breoch craves touch, but is initially very wary of it. Unless he's given implicit permission for a person to touch him, any unexpected touch would be perceived as a threat and his body reacts instinctively. That reaction might be as subtle as him jumping aside or more aggressive like throwing an ice knife in someone's face. He could never be too careful in Menzoberranzan.

Once he's comfortable though, then he will seek out physical affection. He'd find excuses to press into a person's side, or rest his head on them. Most people are warmer than him, so he finds that warmth comforting. The more stressed/anxious Breoch feels, the colder his body feels, so being hugged by somebody warmer really does help him to relax.

26. Give us one of your Tav’s secrets!

Kind of following on from the last point about touch, but Breoch has a secret 'off switch'. If somebody he trusts scritches his ear just right, then he will instantly fall asleep. Not just an elven trance, but a properly deep draconic sleep. Whether he wakes up in 8 hours or 3 days depends on just how tired he is.

27. What is the worst thing they’ve ever done/said to someone they love?

Where to start! Breoch has done and said countless terrible things to the people he loves and especially those that love him. The latter years of his relationship with Varna was full of such things.

If you were to ask him what he thought was the worst thing he'd ever done, he would say it was not telling his family where he was going on the day that he died. He never told anybody about Varna, no matter how many times his brothers questioned him about his strange injuries or long absences. To his family, Breoch was still mourning the death of Yen and then simply vanished...for 100 years. They assumed he was dead, but there was no way of knowing. Breoch doesn't cry easily, but thinking about what his family went through during that time would truly break him.

29. What fears keep them up at night?

Varna scrying on him and knowing how to find him. Also, being discovered by Varna and subsequently captured. The thought of becoming nothing more than the necromancer's puppet terrifies him more than anything.

30. What does your Tav want more than anything?

To be loved in the way that his parents love each other. It's simple really, but he was blinded by ambition in pursuit of it.

Shrike

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

Shrike does enjoy touch, though they do shy away from it. Not just because of 'The Urge', but they also just don't know their own strength. After accidentally breaking one of Wyll's fingers when giving him an overenthusiastic fist bump, they try to be more careful.

They adore hugs though, especially really tight ones. Shrike and Karlach would spend a lot of time hugging once she's able to touch people again. Halsin would be a close second.

26. Give us one of your Tav’s secrets!

Despite being very charismatic, they are a terrible liar. Shrike hates lying under any circumstance, even though rationally they know that sometimes lies are necessary. Any situation where they need to lie is far more stressful than any enemy they could ever face.

27. What is the worst thing they’ve ever done/said to someone they love?

Unlike most other durges, Shrike's adopted mother is still alive and well. They've always had enough self-restraint to resist killing their mother— their love for their mother fuelled their initial paladin oath after all. But the worst thing they ever did was hurt her, both physically when they were younger under the influence of their urge and later emotionally if she was to ever learn what became of the sweet child that she had raised.

29. What fears keep them up at night?

Accidentally/unconsciously hurting the ones they love.

30. What does your Tav want more than anything?

Shrike just wants to experience some peace. At least, until they get the desire to take up their paladin oath again and venture out to save others just like them.

Zeke

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

Zeke loves touch and is quite touchy-feely himself. He quite often pats people's shoulders or grabs people's arms as just part of his usual show of friendship. He will hug just about anything and anyone that will let him.

He has an awful habit of not really paying attention which tent he clambers into at night, so most of his companions have had a very snuggly, very sleepy Zeke nestled in their bedroll at least once.

26. Give us one of your Tav’s secrets!

One of Zeke's biggest secrets is that he's able to keep a secret at all. The simplest explanation for this is that his adoptive father/warlock patron is very intrusive, and will modify his memories to make him forget unpleasant things.

For more ramblings, I've gone into more detail here and here

27. What is the worst thing they’ve ever done/said to someone they love?

Zeke is also a bhaalspawn, so he has murdered a lover before. Fortunately, he doesn't remember doing it.

29. What fears keep them up at night?

Zeke's biggest fear is being abandoned. So much of his early life was spent completely isolated and neglected. He never wants to feel that lonely again.

30. What does your Tav want more than anything?

The opposite of his fear— to be surrounded by so much love and affection. To be known and cherished by his family, his friends, and his beloved purple wizard husband.

[paperboy-pb]

"Willful Ignorance" [Life Story]

[Written in August, 2023]

A parent reminded me why I make PB the other night.

For those of you who don't know, I'm a very young creator. 20 in October. And I had one of my co-writers for a different comic ("Weirder Than Usual") over at my place for the weekend. And being the youngest of a hispanic family, my parents have no plans to let me move out anytime soon. When I do leave, it will likely be without their blessing.

I let one parent drive my co-writer back home for the night. I knew I wouldn't be much fun to have in the car that late (I fall asleep pretty early,) and that we wouldn't be free to discuss creative affairs with that parent there, anyway.

I don't like to be myself with this parent around. We are distant. And I keep that distance for a reason.

And despite my absence, this parent reminded me why. Because guess what my cowriter texted me not too long after!

Some hours later, I can't help but think to myself... it's so funny how she stresses my late speech so much. Because now that it's here, it's as if my words don't matter at all.

I will admit my family doesn't know everything that our Special Ed program put me & other children through. But I will ALSO say that that's their own fault. Because as I grew up, I used to tell them every awful thing that I found important. And it was their lack of response that made me stop.

The driver of that car is clueless. She's "forgotten" about the violence that surrounded me in there. Desks crashing to the ground after an adult's angriest shove. Sweaters stretched out and destroyed from middle school fights that nobody broke up.

She's "forgotten" about every time I told her that we weren't learning what we needed to know, insisting that every class must've been doing 3rd grade worksheets in 7th if we were.

She's "forgotten" her 11-year-old asking if he was on the spectrum; how she put on the confused performance of a lifetime as she told me no. But miraculously, she remembers sitting somewhere in the spring of 2005, being told so by professionals.

And she "doesn't remember" us yelling on the phone in 2022. How I spent 80 dollars on an Uber just so we wouldn't share state grounds. And how I screamed for the millionth time, in no uncertain terms, "I AM NOT MAD AT YOU FOR PUTTING ME IN A PROGRAM THAT PROMISED US HELP. You believed them! I know you believed them, they promised you I'd be okay! The problem is that THEY BROKE THAT PROMISE! And every time they did, you just looked the other way!"

Whether she is or isn't being truthful doesn't matter. It's bad on her either way.

Because I know she remembers my dentist reporting bruxism to her when I still had loose teeth. How they would ask her about my environment, or if she knew whether or not anything was stressing me out. And that she chose to question nothing as it continued nightly into my teens. Damaging my adult teeth and concerning all who would sleep in the same room as me. They could hear me all the time. Sometimes my sister would even wake me up.

I know she remembers marking her little one's height against the wall, and seeing the space under his eyes grow darker and darker across the 6th grade.

I know she remembers making leave Autism themed group chats, because to her, my name & that word should never be in the same sentence.

I know she remembers going through his journals and sketchbooks, finding concept art for our Matthew B. And how just one look was enough to make her enroll me to therapy when I was 13.

And she knows that I remember how she hates that boy. Matthew Boston, I mean. And at least one part of her hates everything that he is; disabled, creative, expressive, and headstrong.

I know because she hates those traits in me as well.

Since I spend a lot of time in disability spaces, I try not to assume somebody isn't trying to understand. Comprehension doesn't come easy to everyone. And I especially suspect that she's neurodivergent as well.

But I've tried everything with this one, and I'm truly at the end of my rope. I've tried visuals. I've tried keeping it short and sweet and simple. I've tried having complex and mature conversations where I don't skip a single detail.

I've even tried therapy with her in the room.

Nothing works. And unless this is the convenient work of an undiagnosed memory condition, there's no reason for that.

My Autistic voice matters so little to her that she insists on prying information out of my friends when I'm not in the room; asking the allistic all these questions I've answered myself one thousand times.

She doesn't want to understand. She doesn't want to question her own ableism. Or work past it. And that's why I don't show her "PAPERBOY" at all, and likely won't until years and years from now.

Because PAPERBOY is for the people who do understand. For people who do understand, and everyone who wants to.

[jos-10-minyard]

13/11/2023

I have so much to say I don't even know how to start this. Maybe discussing about how my mom's being suck a jerk with me this week. She fucking knows about all my mental health shit, and even so she gives me all the indications that she doesen't trust me enough. I already knew she and dad didn't trust me, but receiving the confirmation is tough. Very much tough.

Basically, what happened is: I'm living with my aunt in another state now, to try to take care of my mental health. It's been being really helpful, and she's an angel in my life, I can't express how much I love her and love being here, in my hometown. I'll try to apply to the university in here, so I can stay longer.

But let's go to what really matters now. Thursday, my uncle got his knee operated, and my aunt went to the hospital with him to stay a couple days. At thursday night, my older cousin and his wife came to stay with me and my youngest cousin, so we won't be alone for the night (even though I'm 20 and he's 18). Friday, my aunt told me to call my friends to sleep with us, and so I did.

So here we were: me, Rafa, Ninne and Luiz (my youngest cousin), doing a barbecue and swimming at night (it's really fucking hot here in Brazil this week). And then my dad video calls me. That's weird, my dad never calls me, it's always my mom, but I accepted it.

Dude, the second my mom saw that I was at the pool, her face immeadiatly closed and she asked what I thought I was doing. I explained to her that my aunt was the one to give the idea to call my friends, and she continued to be mad at me. I really don't know why she was mad. Did she think we were having a crazy sex night at the pool? Did she think that I had organized a rave at my aunt's house while she was away? I didn't do any of these stuff. We only had a barbecue and swimmed. Only. Oh, we watched movies too. But that's all. The only boy present in all the situation was my cousin, and that means nothing because I live with him.

Anyway, as we were hanging out the call, my dad says to me to don't do any shit, and I jokily ask "don't you guys trust me?". He answered "no". And hung out. Yeah, that's really fucked up.

See, I don't think I ever did anything to deserve that lack of trust in me. In 20 years of my life, I barely went out of home, I never got home drunk or high, always told my parents where I was going and who were with me, they know all of my friends. Even so, they still don't trust me, and I can't figure out why. I'm 20 years old and they still treat me as if I was 10 and didn't know anything about life and how to take care of myself at all.

Man, they freaked out with me having a night alone, without any "responsible adults" nearby. Imagine when I live by myself? I'm planning to move out next year, if I get into college, and live with my friends and my cats. I think that's capable of giving my mom a heart attack.

Anyway, I'll talk about this with my psychologist later on today. I hope she helps me to not feel anxious every time I talk to my mom. And that I can figure out why the fuck I don't want to come home for summer vacations. Mom wants me to spend january with her, dad and my brother, but, honestly, I feel no will to come back home. It just seem so suffocating! I don't want to go home because that means I'll have the slightly chance to meet my ex without wanting to. And that would be the worst nightmare ever.

Someday I'll tell the story about why he broke up with me. Not today. I have another important things to write about today.

One of those is that I'm under the doubt of having or not Borderline. When I went to the psychiarist, she gave me emotional control pills to take, and I have been taking them since then. She also asked if there was people with bipolarity in my family, and my aunt said that yes, there is, my other aunt and her daughter are also under this doubt. Since this, I couldn't stop thinking and researching about borderline, and it's scary how much I identify with all of the symptoms. All of them.

Also, that would explain a LOT of things in my life. For example, my whole relationship with Mileto, my ex-webgirlfriend. Yes, I webdated when I was 15, you're free to judge me.

Me and her had a relationship that worked based on cycles. There were days where we would be so in love, feeling that nothing would ever end us, imagining a future where we would happily live together with a lot of children and animals in our big house. And, then, the next day we would be fighting so hard that anything would seem to work at all.

Talking to her about it last week, we came to the conclusion that the cycles were there to satisfy both her autism and my possible borderline. By living in a cycle, she would feel safe and confortable, because she would know exactly what's about to happen next, without any scary possibilities that she couln't predict. And I would gladly live in a scenario where I could win and lose interest on her without changing our relationship status.

Yep, that wasn't healthy at all, for neither of us. But we were young and knew little or almost nothing about ourselves, thinking and acting as if we knew everything. That only got us to hurt each other more and more, getting to the point where we broke up definitively, and live happier than ever as friends. She got a girlfriend now, and they're so happy and in love! I'm glad and proud of her, truly. No jealous, just good feelings towards her.

I think that's what love truly is, after all. Being happy about someone, even though you're not the one who got them to feel good.

That leads us to another important point that's been going round and round my head these days: Pablo. He's a boy I met on Tinder when I came to live with my aunt in another state. I downloaded this app because my friends told me so, hoping I would feel a little bit better about my life if I knew new people. They said it would distract my head from thinking about my ex-boyfriend.

Well, it didn't worked 100%, but it actually helped a little.

I started going out with this guy I met there, Pablo, almost two months ago. I think it was 2 weeks after Xande broke up with me. Blame me whatever you want, but I was so desperate to feel a little bit better that I would do actually anything to feel something that wasn't complete sadness and willing to die.

We had sex a couple times, and, in my head, I was certain that it was only this: sex. Hell, how I was wrong.

Maybe I'm feeling things about him, and I'm so fucking scared. The last time I gave all of myself to someone, he threw my heart into the ground and kicked it until it was bleeding. And I'm still recovering from all the wounds he gave me. I had this conversation with Pablo a lot of times, and I honestly think he feels the same, but both of us aren't ready for a serious relationship right now. Specialty me. Seriously, I know that I'll get emotional dependence in anyone that I decide to get romantic with. And I can't do this again. Not now.

I don't think I can survive another heartbreak right now. I still think about Alexandre more than I should, more than it's healthy to think about someone who fucking hurt you until you seriously thought about death, because anything could be possibily worse than what you were feeling at that moment.

That's why I'm so scared. I don't trust anyone with my heart anymore. I can't trust. If I do it, there's a big chance of my heart coming back more injured than it was before, and that I can't handle. I need to recover this first.

Anyway, me and Pablo had the most romantic date I ever had this saturday. We spent the whole day together with my friends and cousin, then I watched him playing football (he's a goalkeeper), and then we went to a hidden spot in the city, where we layed down and watched the stars in the sky, talking about everything. It was so simple, but also so fucking meanable to both of us. It really seemed like I was living inside a romance book or fanfiction.

Alexandre said that life wasn't a book, so I didn't need to be so dramatic at all the times. Well, I think I can romanticize life a little bit now, it wouldn't hurt anyone.

[impernaway]

Whistlin' Dixie

(content warnings for a brief implication of body modifications and a very near-miss with death.)

It turns out there's a whole lot of things that the movies don't get right about rigs, but the main two I can think of are this: The first thing you learn fast is that piloting is heavy. There’s a reason they can’t do a proper job teaching you on the ground.

Oh, sure, they teach you everything they can on the dirt first. Of course they do - it's miles easier to ship things up the lift into orbit than it used to be, but it still ain't cheap. Yggdrasil might be the leading name in the space game, but they didn't get that way by spending when they don't have to. They're always on the lookout for more engineers, more techs, more hard workers, more pilots. I didn't realise at the time how lucky I was to get scooped up by them; Just took the submission form home for my parents to sign, got accepted, and off I went. Once you're in orbit you stop having to pay tuition, and you make the money back after your first year or so. It's not a bad deal.

The second thing the stories about the rigs get wrong is that they say it's like piloting a plane or driving a car. It's not. It's like having a second skin that's also a tank.

Four years of training and growing into the right shape spits me out, age 20, fully certified and immediately hired as a pilot for the WD-35KM-1P4L line of dancers. A Whistlin' Dixie all of my very own, all shiny and complete with a picture-perfect paint job and everything. Sure, Yggdrasil own her, but she's mine. That's what they pay me for - They feed me, clothe me, home me, pay me on top of all that, and in return I make my girl spin.

Unit 4275 is all mine. My second skin. My very own personal coffin.

She's three times my height, her outer panels white and green, sporting a hatch on her back and portside and all the tools of the trade on her arms at the front. There's a space on her side where her name will go once it's chosen, so until then she's still just unit 4275.

It's month two of my introductory six month period, meaning I'm still on limited shifts whilst they keep an eye out for any latent system shock as my body gets used to linking up with the control systems. Plugging in involves submerging yourself into a fully-body tube of warm shock absorption gel, thick stuff they dye neon blue to make it easier for the techies to spot if it starts leaking. You wrap an oxygen mask over your face, slot yourself in, and then off you go. Six hours of catching old satellites and space junk later, they reel you back in and decant you like a tin of peaches before sending you on your way until your next shift rolls around again. 

It's all staggered shifts out here, of course. There's always work to be done, and space never sleeps.

My bay is parked next to Maxie, my designated veteran supervisor. As best as I can tell he's from one of the real early generations where they were still figuring things out, possibly even from before folks realised that they needed younger bodies still growing to shape into what was needed. Between the fact he's rig number 361 and the fact the thing is called Maxie as well, it seems a safe enough bet. He likes to call this whole thing my "learning to walk" phase, which...Fair enough. Maxie probably has the right to say shit like that if he's been at it this long. He's the sort of old hand who sometimes goes a week at a time without decanting, sleeping in his gel before immediately clocking in and striding straight back out into the void again. 

I got a lot of time for the Maxies.

"Good aim," the earpiece crackles. "Reel it."

"My aim drifted left," I mumble back to him as the winches start towing back the satellite my harpoon just speared. "Remind me to keep an eye out for that."

"What'd you aim for?"

"The target dip circle they painted on the body there. Nice centre mass, clear punch, keep the wings away. Textbook retrieval point."

"...The dip?"

I pause, squeezing my eyes shut as the outer cameras take a still and pass it over to him. The feeds highlight the spot in question, a dimple on the side of the decommissioned satellite meant to act like a drill guide for easier retrieval. It's a clean, routine job we've done a hundred times before.

It's barely been a second since I sent it when my ears are filled with howling.

"CUT THAT LINE!"

My hands respond to the horrific noise of his voice, the whole rig jerking as my fingers spasm to cut the tether before my brain is done processing what he's saying.  

Cutting the line doesn't stop it, of course - I'd already started reeling, and we're in space. That bitch momentum has it continue to slowly tumble our way even after the cord is sheared. Maxie's arm snaps up, my brain filling in the hiss of air as he fires something that moves rapidly and punches it back out and tumbling away. As it flips headlong over and over, I see what he'd seen from his slightly different angle. Not a dip. A blister.

The not-really-satellite splits like a rotten tomato, silver glitter vomiting out into the void from the very same blister I'd been aiming for. My body cringes at the sight. I don't need to look too hard at the image Maxie is sending over to me to know what that is, or what it would've done if I had reeled it over and brought it into the rig to start the earliest part of the recycling breakdown. It wouldn't have taken it even a minute for that little nightmare to rip my dancer to pieces from the inside out once it detonated.

There's a chorus of alerts in my ears as the notifications roll in. Three different units including Maxie are calling an alert. The hanger broadcasting an all-hands recall, effective immediately. Dutifully, dully, I send back a trill of acknowledgement to join the chorus and let Maxie start to herd me back. The comms continue to click-click-click away in my ear as I drift and follow orders. I think I nearly scrape a wall on the way in.

I stay still and quiet when techs decant me. They leave me to lie in the smear of rapidly cooling gel as they surge onwards to the next bay and the next pilot, my shivering nothing to do with the chill of recycled atmosphere pricking across my skin.

The WD series of mechs are made for waste disposal. The 35KM range is for satellites and other small objects, one pilot only. We're not able to handle things meant to set off a Kessler Reaction like that. We're not rated for weaponry.

Splayed out on the floor like I am, I can't help but look up at my Dixie's bulk and think about how much bigger than me she is. How dainty she is compared to a shredder bomb and its payload. How many pieces it would leave her in if the thing had succeeded in the job it was first sent out to do here way back when.

Would the blue of my gel go purple if I bled into it, or would it just go all black looking from the outside? I don't know. 

One thing I do actually know for sure is that it's gonna be a fucking mess of debris out there until the heavies can clear the storm of it down a bit. Same way as I know for sure that I shouldn't have missed that shot.

I'm not stupid. I know where I aimed that harpoon. I've not gone that wide since my second year. It was practically textbook. I've done it countless times by now. Maybe I hadn't been top of my class coming out of the Academy, but I wasn’t a goddamn slouch either. Years of training and muscle memory, and the damn thing had kicked my aim out just as I chanced across my first decoy.

Same way she'd kicked and fired the aft starboard thruster on her own to stop me scraping my second skin on the edge of the bay on my way in

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Unlikely Places - Chapter 16 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Chapter: 16 - One Track Mind

"If you don't want to, just say it, Jackson. I'm a big boy and it won't affect your job."

I floundered at the assumption he was making.

If he had just given me a chance to explain I would.

I open my mouth to try again but the sudden click and the deafening muffled silence that resulted told me had had disengaged our call.

Surprised by the unexpectedness of the call and the speed with which it had taken place, not to mention what had happened in between baffled me.

It frustrated me a bit as well.

Pierce hadn't given me a chance to talk.

His automatic inclination to jump to erroneous conclusions puzzled me even more?

It made me a bit angry, too.

Pierce was complex.

I didn't know if that quality would end up being a good thing or bad.

Right now, at this moment, I had no choice but to admit it wasn't pointing in his favor.

Even if he had baggage from his past that affected him now, I knew I couldn't continue to take the brunt of that person's wrong doings.

Pierce may be changed by what happened to him but I couldn't allow myself to be punished for the other person's sins.

I hoped Pierce figured things out soon.

My stomach sank at the thought that he might never be able to.

It had taken me twenty-six years to feel even a spark of interest in someone.

To me, Pierce wasn't just someone.

I knew not just anyone would do.

I thought back to yesterday and that tidal wave of feelings I had experienced by spending time with him.

I wanted to hold onto that a little longer.

I hoped Pierce could find a way inside himself to let me.

My computer monitor flashed an incoming email down in the bottom right corner of my screen.

I immediately caught sight of Mr. Johnston's email address.

I moved my mouse and clicked.

[Jackson, due to time sensitive issues, management has moved the deadline for project D2114-20 up to Tuesday 11:00 a.m.]

I frowned at the message.

It was simply impossible.

I immediately replied back feeling my stomach lurch.

My instinct was to always meet a deadline regardless of how impossible it seemed but this weekend made it impossible.

Archer and Percy's wedding had to be my priority.

Knowing I was doing the only thing I could, didn't make sending the email any easier.

I began to type.

[I cannot promise to have the complete project finished by this new deadline. I will gladly strive for Thursday at the same time, considering the previous allocated deadline was for the following Monday. This newest deadline simply does not give me enough time to assure complete accuracy or the thoroughness this information requires.]

I hit send and started drumming my thumb nervously on my desk.

I knew if we didn't get this resolved in the next couple of emails, I would have to call Mr. Johnstone and explain the situation.

I hoped it didn't come to that.

I wasn't the rebellious type.

Saying no was not easy.

Doing it by email had already been difficult.

Verbally, I knew would be tougher.

Ten minutes later I received a reply.

[Please clarify why you are unable to meet the new deadline.]

I frowned.

Hadn't I already explained?

I reread the previous emails.

I shrugged and began to type.

[My best friend is getting married this weekend. I am not only in the 'Wedding Party' but have other duties. I will be busy all-day Friday and Saturday and part of Sunday. I absolutely cannot cancel any of these plans. I will be able to give my attention back to the project once my 'best-man' wedding duties have been fulfilled.]

I quickly clicked send and then bent down to rub at Cicero who was still lazily sleeping at my feet.

Petting his sleek short coat, I let the soothing repetitive motion calm my unease.

He opened his soulful liquid brown eye and peaked up at me.

I blew him a kiss.

He blinked and then shut his eyes once again, going back to sleep.

I glanced back at my monitor and saw a new email appear.

I swiftly clicked on the message and read.

[That is acceptable. We will leave the original deadline in effect. Have a good time.]

I stared at the message and reread the short missive in bewilderment.

'That had been... odd.'

[onepersonproject]

One Person Project

Hello person who somehow came across this post.

I’ll add at the outset that I’m not a writer, so there won’t be generous posts that can give anyone anything to think about. English is not my first language either, so I apologize for any mistakes.

I created this blog because I want to change my life. Tumblr is a website, I think, created for this type of shit. I don’t expect anyone to read it, because it will be my virtual diary, but if anyone comes across this page full of trial and error and is willing to help me in any way – with advice of course – I’ll be more than happy with that.

But maybe I'll introduce myself first.

Hi, I'm Anna. I'm in my mid-20s and two days ago I decided to change my life. But seriously. I don't stand out in anything special, in fact, I'm such a boring person that no one really notices me. And that's my problem, too.

My life is boring (shocking, isn’t it?). Every day I go to work, and then I come back and go to bed. The days off are not much different, because I actually spend the whole day at home doing nothing.

I have no hobbies. I've never found anything that would interest me enough to take care of it. I've made a few attempts to get interested in something, but they've always failed.

I don't have any friends. Because of my shyness, which kept me through high school, even though I tried to overcome it, I didn't make any close connections. Although I am now more open to people and can talk to them normally, I am no longer able to make any real friendships. I won't even mention another relationship.

I don't like myself. I don't like the way I look, I don't like the person I've become over the years. I don't like my laziness, my spitefulness, my quick irritation and nervousness, and the fact that I wasted my teenage years on nothing while other people at my school were making memories.

I graduated from a master's degree in a field that may have interested me a little, but it's not promising at all. I consider myself a stupid person, and I don't think any degree would change my mind. Maybe I'm retarded for my age, I don't know.

I consider myself a failure. I keep everything to myself, because I am ashamed to tell my family about my inner thoughts. I think they'd laugh at me or wave at me and say there's bigger problems in life. And I know it is, because OF COURSE there are bigger problems in the world, which you can see even on television or on the Internet. But for me, this is an important matter, after all, my life is at stake, right?

I have no desire to live. I can lie down for a couple of hours watching movies or sleeping and that way I lose a good few days a week. I don't know how to encourage myself to do anything.

My state of health is a joke. I eat junk food that should have eaten my guts a long time ago. How I'm still holding on, I don't know.

And lately I've been thinking about my life. Why isn't everything going the way I want it to? Why doesn't anything change? Why doesn't my life look like the lives of the people from my school?

I know, it doesn't look like that 'cause I'm not doing anything.

It's getting more and more frustrating. Because do I really want to spend my whole life like this? Going to work and coming home and doing literally nothing? If one day I have a family, and my children or grandchildren ask me about my younger self, what am I going to tell them? That I was so lazy and reluctant to live and that I didn't do anything about it?

But what I'm talking about, how I can start a family? With this lifestyle, I'll never meet anyone.

It makes my heart very heavy. And although I made a few attempts to make some small changes – writing diaries, meditating, doing some manifestations (not suitable for this I guess) – I quickly lost the desire to continue. My "every day" diary changed to " every month" and later "every couple of months".

And I think the frustration with this state of life is reaching its limit. I really need to make some changes, or I'm gonna get stuck in this nothingness mode, and I'm gonna end up having a grudge against myself for not doing anything about it. So I thought that maybe such a virtual diary would be better than a paper one (I think I even prefer to write on a keyboard). And maybe somehow there'll be someone who'll have some advice for me on how I could change things a little bit. So I will put here from time to time, maybe more often, maybe less often my progress – the bigger ones and the smaller ones.

Officially I am starting my “One Person Project”, where I will finally pull myself together and fight for myself.

If someone somehow came across this post and even read it to the end - I want to thank you. And I hope I haven’t ruined your day because of my funny “new year, new me” type of post type. Or night. Wherever you are.

(And please no malicious comments, I know I'm pathetic. I accepted it a long time ago, let's move on).

[not-that-blog]

Fuck the perception of the man or bear argument.

Bc someone said how if it was a man they knew, of course they would pick the man over the bear.

And I will be completely honest... no I fucking wouldn't.

If I had to unexpectedly face a man in my life or a pissed of red belly black snake or a funnel web or a brown snake (ya know, more realistic for my actual area because all three are available within a 20min drive and probably a 20-30min walk from where I live)… I would pick the wild animal.

Like 1. None of the men in my life hike so like, no.

But 2. You think after 25yrs with 23 of them being straight up trauma at the hands of men I even completely trust the ones I trust?!?

There is two, just two men who wouldn't trigger an immediate reaction of fear.

Both of whom I have ran to and cried into the arms of after realising that I was being abused by someone in my life.

Both of whom I have essentially lived with at some point for at least a month.

But I do not want to run into any men in my life randomly in the bush, under any circumstances.

And like I have reason, I don't trust my brothers, I don't trust my father (who has physically assaulted both of my brothers at some point in a way that could easily be described as potentially lethal intent), I don't trust my uncles, I don't trust my male friends, I don't trust anyones boyfriends, I never trusted either of my grandfathers (rightfully so bc one was an abusive asshole the other was a worse abusive asshole).

I don't trust men.

I have had men that I knew for seven+ years get drunk, handsy and sexually assault me.

I had men who actively engaged to prevent one kind of sexual assault happening to me to later feel entitled to my body because of that.

I had men who I believed were my best friends at the time later make it very clear they saw me nothing more than a body the group of them were just trying to sleep with regardless of my feelings about it.

I have been physically assaulted by strangers, by family, by friends.

Avoided handsy adult men as a teenager by being ridiculously loud and vocal. Constantly. And making it a threat. Making my voice a very clear and direct threat that no matter what you threatened me with, I didn't care enough to keep my mouth shut.

And that only worked because I had already kick started a criminal investigation into an adult man who was 'highly respected' in his communities and unfortunately my biological grandfather who is genuinely the worst human being.

So I was known for just going to the cops and when the cops couldn't do shit, I took it into my own hands by not shutting tf up about it.

I don't need to be asked 'bear or man' or 'snake or man' or whatever fucking else.

Nothing on this fucking planet is less trustworthy than a man.

And somehow this because a 'man or bear but the man is XYZ' for some reason...

The answer doesn't change.

Nothing makes me change my answer.

If I can't trust my own brothers, or my father to be someone I would be comfortable running into the bush, people who have lived with me most of my life, why the fuck would I even hold hope for a stranger?

Even the men whose moral codes I have trusted, do you really think that I ever fully believe in them to keep it? When I have watched the seemingly kindest and most protective men that I had willingly given my heart to, get drunk and refuse my no and still be stronger than me when they are completely smashed and I am stone cold sober.

When men I was ready to spend my life with decided stealthing was the route they were taking, or that they were going to constantly masturbate over me in my sleep and clean it up with my bright pink girl guides towel, ruining a priceless piece of my childhood by linking it to traumatic events, or deciding to rape me in my sleep, while I was dressed in a shirt my dad gave me when I was like 7 and winter pj pants... just pulled my clothes down, pinned me on my side and raped me... first thing in the morning while no one else was home.

Those were men that I had trusted.

One of them I had actually gone hiking with.

I have also faced a freshly shed, starving red belly black snake as it considered biting me for getting in it's way and almost stepping on it but the wallaby it was going after ended up being its choice.

I have grown up around brown snakes, at hatching season there's regularly just baby brown snakes on the foot paths where I live bc I'm close to an embankment where they lay their eggs.

I also live near a rainforest that is known for having a few different species of funnel webs, yes I have seen them first hand, on a tour of the rainforest thankfully with a professional showing us them.

Anti-venom on site.

But I have seen how incredibly fast and huge and deadly they are first hand.

I have also seen the damage of a fully grown red kangaroo on a truck, or the speed and bite of a dingo, feral pigs, crocodiles taking down prey in Northern Queensland, the head injuries from a dumbass who pissed off a cassowary, etc.

Like I am not 'blissfully unaware' of how violent and dangerous these things are.

But I know without a hint of doubt, that I would rather take on Australia's deadliest animals, knowing that I have no fucking reflexes to defend myself from them... then ever deal with a man.

Because there is not actually a single man who I trust enough to meet in the bush even if sometimes I say to them I would.

I don't believe in trusting the hands of anyone to not be violent, because I don't believe that anyone is truly a complete pacifist because I believe every act of peace and kindness is a choice and a conscious one, and so are acts of violence.

I would rather experience a torture by another creature than violence by a face and hand that matches mine.

[readingforsanity]

The Other Woman | Tania Tay | Published 2024 | *SPOILERS* ARC

Jade has the life she always wanted; a husband and three perfect children. She's happy. Except, recently that isn't enough. Her husband is never home, and when he is, he's distant. She's a constant source of disappointment to her mum, and even her children are starting to push her away.

Then she unexpectedly finds herself reconnecting with Christina, an old friend from University, and she starts to feel like herself again.

As the women become closer, and Christina needs a place to stay, Jade welcomes her into their chaotic family home. But when Jade discovers a suspicious text on her husband's phone, she starts questioning those around her.

A twisting, compulsive and unputdownable thriller that will have you turning the pages long into the night. Perfect for fans of Samantha Downing, Teresa Driscoll and Claire McGown.

Jade and Christina were former flatmates while attending university in Edinburgh, Scotland. Christina was shy and heldback a lot, while Jade was a bit more open and free-spirited. Their unlikely friendship should have lasted years, but after a devastating emergency left Christina with no other option but to leave university to return home to London, Jade didn't hear anything from her for nearly 20-years.

Now that she is married and a mother to three small children, Christina has decided to reach out to Jade after finding her "picture perfect Instagram". The two meet for coffee, and with this, sparks their friendship backup as if nothing ever happened.

Christina begins caring for Jade and her husband, Sam's, children, Amber, Eddie and Leo, so Jade could return to work part-time as a freelance copywriter. Despite initially being excited about having Christina around to help mind the children, Jade becomes exasperated by Christina's parenting methods, as it clashed with her own. Jade tells Christina her misgivings, but Christina decided to go around her back and continues doing as she has done for the children while they were in her care.

Ultimately, their relationship becomes strained after Jade begins to suspect Sam of having an extramarital affair. She once discovered a text message from an unknown number on his phone, and despite his reassurances that nothing was going on, this wasn't quite the truth. She begins to notice that Sam and Christina are flirting while the two of them are together, and Christina begins making mistakes with the children, even going so far as to cook dinner with a sauce made with fish sauce, which her middle child, Eddie, is allergic too and causes a terrible bout of anaphylaxsis.

When Jade ultimately catches Christina and Sam having sex while he thought the others were sleeping, Jade tells the two of them to get out and when they don't, she leaves. When she returns the next day to pick up the children from school, she is horrified to learn that the children were picked up from school by Christina at lunchtime, and they are nowhere to be found.

Jade ultimately realizes that Christina has taken them to the loch in Scotland, where the two of them and other friends spent a weeks holiday that is a happy memory for Christina. Jade has ultimately figured out that Christina had become pregnant the night she left her at a party on her own, and a few weeks later, she suffered a miscarriage.

When she finds Christina and the children at the house where they spent that week, Christina confesses that it was never her that she wanted to harm...it was Sam. The person responsible for her pregnancy, and ectopic at that, as Christina shares, was Sam. Sam and Jade didn't meet until after university, and Christina is devastated to learn that Sam hasn't really changed, that he still has a front for women and spends his time being a sleazeball while his wife and children remain at home waiting for him to return all day. Even worse, Christina swears that their sexual encounter was not conseusal.

After the police arrive and saved the children and Jade, Sam meets up with them in the hospital. When confronted with what happened, Sam denies ever having raped Christina, and that he spent a lot of his last year at university sleeping with multiple women. For Jade, this is the straw that breaks the camels back, and she returns to her children.

[haledamage]

somehow stumbled across the still-functional (though long-abandoned) forums of the Witchblade fan group my mom and I were part of in the early 00's, which was my first foray into fandom community

it's like turning a corner and bumping into my 16 year old self

[andysbubba]

three pretty idiots

-> a love triangle, but the arrows are everywhere because you love steve but steve loves bucky but bucky loves you but you also love bucky but steve also loves you… and yeah

late night jazz on spotify because post-sex jazz with steve and bucky sounds so sexy oh god—

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Bucky stares down at you as you lay in between him and Steve, head resting against his hard but very pillowy for some reason (according to you) chest, and Steve’s extremely heavy (also according to you) arm draped over your torso.

The three of you have done this enough to know that it’s okay to stay the night after the mind-blowing sex. It was a friends with benefits thing— and no one- strictly referring to you and Steve, was going to expect feelings spurting out of nowhere. Still doesn’t mean that Bucky doesn't get butterflies in his stomach whenever you drool on his chest while you slept or whenever he watches Steve make breakfast for the three of you.

Oh, and Bucky knows just how in love Steve is with you. For goodness sake, just 2 months ago, Steve could barely crack an egg without destroying the egg whites. But when he learned that you love having fluffy pancakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner? Steve signed up for a damn cooking class just to master the act of separating the yolk and egg whites just so he can make your pancakes really really fluffy. So yes, Bucky knows that Steve is hopelessly in love with you.

And he doesn't blame Steve at all. You're just so amazing that it's impossible not to fall for you. Bucky thought he could live with just being a fuck buddy to you. But all these sleepovers were making him crave for more. Maybe, just maybe, he wants to kiss you in front of the whole damn world and show that he's all yours.

The thing is, he doesn't just wanna show you off. He'd be happy if he's with you but he also l-o-v-e-s Steve. It's complicated, he thinks. But it really isn't. He loves Steve. Has been in love with him since the 20s and a hundred years later, that feeling still hasn't gone away. And sure- Bucky knows Steve's okay with seeing his dick and whatever because for fucks sake, they have sex with you at the same time literally all the time. But he doesn't know if Steve swings that way.

And the whole ordeal stresses Bucky out because- he loves you, and he loves Steve. He also cannot deal with losing you and/or losing Steve.

How should he even put his feelings into words?

He glances up at Steve and he almost sighs in disbelief when he sees that he's already dozing off. He couldn't even stop himself from admiring how peaceful Steve looks. And pretty. Steve looks so pretty like that with his eyes shut and a strand of his pretty blonde hair brushing over his pretty face and his pretty lips gaping just a little as he breathes.

"What's on your mind, Buck?"

He immediately shifts his gaze to you. Bucky cannot afford to get caught for staring at his best friend like that. Like he loves him... which technically, he does...

"Nothin' pretty girl, just go to sleep."

You frown up at him, because it's obvious that there's something on his mind. And Bucky wishes that he can kiss the wrinkles on your forehead away, but he can't, because fuck friends don't kiss each others' forehead like girlfriends and boyfriends.

He's in luck because you do end up listening to him.

You dozed off just a minute later, and he spends the next two hours watching you and Steve sleep. As creepy as it sounds, it wasn't the first time he's done it. Really, it’s more heartfelt than creepy because he just loves the two of you so, so much.

“Stevie?”

He’s got a bowl and a whisk, putting together your pancake batter that he knows you’ll just dip your finger into even though he scolds you everytime because there’s raw egg in it and he doesn’t want you to end up getting sick.

“Yeah, doll?” He glances up at you through his lashes, head tilted to one side as he waits for your reply.

The nickname makes your heart flutters but you tried your best to push that fluttery feeling aside.

“Do you like guys?”

Steve straightens up at your question, a little awkward with what you said because he doesn’t know which answer you’re expecting. And maybe he’s a little afraid of what you’d think of him. He'd be lying if he said no, but he's scared of saying yes.

He clears his throat, “I’ve never tried dating them. And I wouldn’t mind trying.” Steve tries his best to shrug off your question— as if he doesn’t have a specific them in the back of his head.

It’s true, he’s learned that it’s completely normal to like someone of the same gender and Steve’s pretty open-minded. He’s open to trying new things but he’s just never had the opportunity to do it.

“So-” Steve was worried of what’s going to leave your lips next. “—you wouldn’t mind dating Bucky?”

He almost chokes on his saliva, because your words hit the exact spot he was hoping you’d miss.

“Uhm-” His reply came off as a question rather than an answer, if it was even a reply. But Steve knows the exact answer to that particular question.

Steve isn’t dumb, he knows he loves Bucky. He just doesn’t know if Bucky’s willing to try all these new things with him… as a couple. He also knows that he doesn’t just want Bucky.

He wants you too.

It’s a little funny because he knows he loves the two of you, and as much as he wants to confess his feelings— Steve’s afraid of rejection. Somewhere in his head, he’ll always be the little Stevie he once was. The one that guys bullied and girls stayed away from because he was just that weak, skinny and pathetic.

What if you and Bucky found him weird because he wants to be with both of you? Worse, what if he loses both you and Bucky?

The thing the three of you had going isn’t a relationship, but at least it’s the closest thing he can get to having both of you. And for now? That’s enough for Steve.

Oh— you know there’s something between Steve and Bucky. Like how Bucky pretends that he doesn’t look at Steve while he sleeps or how Steve basically sacrificed his title as an Avenger just to clear Bucky’s name.

Maybe they’re good friends or whatever, but it was clear enough to you that they both felt something for each other. And really, how in love do you have to be to put your life at risk for a ‘bestfriend’ ?

It’s a little obvious to you that they’re afraid of being together. It was something they weren’t allowed to do back in their days but you just gotta convince them that it’s alright now.

Except.

You don’t want to give up this whole thing you have with the boys now. The sex was great, sure, but it’s just that— you don’t want to stop spending time with them. If they end up together, what does it mean for you?

You’ll be happy for them but, maybe you’d also miss being with the boys. And sure, you were the one who proposed being fuck buddies with the two of them, you were secretly hoping for something more. You hadn’t even expected to fall for them that much, that you’d catch feelings and be in love with them.

You weren’t expecting the boys to be going through the exact same dilemma too.

—

“Good mornin’," Bucky’s voice was raspy as he pops up from Steve's room. His chest was bare and he just has a pair of sweatpants on.

It warms your heart to see him actually getting some sleep. Hell, he even slept in more than you and Steve. Bucky used to have nightmares and he’d end up staying up through the night instead of getting some sleep just to avoid the night terrors. It’s safe to say that he’s sleeping so much better now.

“Hey pal,” Steve greets a tiny smile forming on his face as he places a plate stacked with pancakes in front of Bucky.

Bucky deserves to be happy after all the shit he’s been through. It’s only fair if he’s happy with the same person who’s been through the same shit. Steve.

Yeah, maybe you’d lose them if they get together. But at least they’re happy together and you know they’ll still be your friends.

“Buck?”

He shifts his gaze towards you, a low hum leaving his lips as he takes a bite of the pancakes.

“Would you, y’know, date Steve?”

His reaction was the same as Steve’s, just a little more comical with how he chokes on his food and his eyes widens.

“Doll-” Steve starts, his cheeks flushed and his voice just a pitch too high.

You figured Buck wasn’t gonna reply anytime soon because he was just still staring at you.

“It’d be funny if you said yes because I asked Steve if he’d date you and he said sure,”

Bucky turned to Steve as soon as those words left your lips.

If there was a thing called gay realisation- you know damn well that that's exactly what you were witnessing. Bucky's cheeks turned just a shade redder, and it seems like he refuses to believe that Steve actually wants to d-a-t-e him.

Knowing you've pretty much done your job, you hop down from your seat. You clear your throat as you pat Bucky's back. And Steve cannot ignore the sneaky grin you had on your lips.

"Well, I'm gonna go meet Tony so you boys have fun," You leave a kiss on Bucky's cheek, leaning in close to his ear. "Gotta go shoot your shot, Buck."

And then you were on the way to the elevator, sauntering away as if you didn't just drop a bomb on them. You had some time to ponder on your way to Tony's lab. And yeah you regretted it a little, but it's for the better isn't it?

Gay awakening or not, Buck and Steve deserve to be happy together. And you're more than elated for them.

--

now- I originally wanted to make this a little longer and fit everything in a longgggg one-shot but my attention span was runnin' out and I just wanted to get this part out because I've been looking forward to writing this for awhile hehe

anyways, reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated as always!! <33

and stay tuned for the next part, ++ I definitely need to start making a taglist 🥲

30 mins later update: i made a taglist on google form and the link’s in my description and also at the start of this fic!

-honey <3

11/09/2021: the sequel is up!

read it here -> still three idiots

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 3 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Transformations, Potions and Power-Up's

Welcome to my analysis of basic concepts in Miraculous. Let's talk about transformations, potions and power-up's. This one is going to be interesting.

Apparently, only child superheroes have a time limit and can use their power only once. And adults can use their powers many times and maintain their transformation.

I don't take Thomas Astruc's Twitter statements seriously, but he said that adults don't have to detransform because they can feed the kwami with their energy. What happens when energy runs out? Does it mean that holder of the miraculous dies and transformation drops? Or does transformation drops when the kwami grows tired enough? However, according to "Silencer", transformation can't be released until the holder says detransformation words or uses their power (applies to children only). Is that why Master Fu doesn't transform these days? Because he is old and doesn't have enough energy for Wayzz.

At the same time, Bunnix/Bunnyx held her transformation for several thousand years in "Timetagger" and she was still alive. Moreover, not only she was still alive, she hasn't aged a day. Alix still looked around 25 even after spending so much time in stone. Her sanity was also still intact. Does that mean that as long as people are transformed they are immortal and can't die of natural causes, can't get sick or be killed? Does the Miraculous pause all inner processes? Do people stop ageing when they are transformed? Does that mean that prolonged transformations essentially slowed down puberty for Marinette and Adrien because every Akuma attack (their transformation during this attack to be precise) acts as a pause for their growth process? Does that mean that transformed heroes don't need food, sleep or oxygen? And Alix doesn't experience any negative side-effects after prolonged transformation. A lot of questions must be answered here.

But apparently, the "adults can use their power many times without detransforming" rule does not apply to Gabriel. In "Heroes' Day" he turns Nathalie into Catalyst who gives Hawkmoth the power to "release as many akumas as he desires". Does that mean that he can't normally do it? On the other hand, in "Queen Banana" he creates another Akuma right after the fight with akumatized Chloe ended.

Do you remember this? In "Origins" we find out that akumatized butterflies can multiply. That's why Ladybug needs to purify them. So, does that mean that Scarlet Moth and Catalyst weren't necessary?

Hawkmoth's plan in "Heroes' Day" was actually very smart. However, it can fall apart when you remember that butterflies can multiply. How does that work? Why do they multiply? Could Gabriel akumatize Nathalie into Catalyst (akumatized object is something not very valuable, like a piece of paper), then break the akumatized object and release the Akuma into the world? Would that turn people only into copies of Catalyst? I wouldn't call this thing a plothole, exactly. I'm just curious because it's an unclear moment. Perhaps you could explain it as the element of a soft magic system with unclear rules. Because the magic system in Miraculous is a mix between the hard and soft system.

Adults without time-limited power have a serious advantage over children. Why does Master Fu give Ladybug and Black Cat to teenagers then? In the beginning, Fu doesn't know that Butterfly holder is an adult. Isn't it safer to give 2 most powerful Miraculouses to adults just in case? If Butterfly Holder is a child then 2 adults with more powerful Miraculous would win much faster. If Butterfly Holder is an adult as well, then the fight is more even.

We know the out-of-universe reason for doing this. There would be no story then. Miraculous holders have to be kids since it's a kids show. But in-universe it doesn't make sense. In "Furious Fu" Su Han even says that children are not allowed to handle the Miraculous at all according to the rules of the Order. Fu knows that children have a time limit. It looks like he deliberately sets them up for failure. Why?

Is that because children are easier to manipulate as they are most likely to trust Fu's judgement no questions asked? This reasoning doesn't look good for Fu, who is supposed to be a wise and kind mentor. Is that because children won't abuse their powers? Find a trustworthy adult then. Give us some kind of in-universe explanation!

If you can't explain it then do something with the time-limit rule. It's an important plot device, which contributes to tension and raises the stakes during fights. So, removing it is unwise. Consider giving adults a time limit as well then.

Or you can create different rules. Maybe Black Cat and Ladybug can't be wielded by adults, unlike other lower-tier Miraculous? Maybe Miraculous and Kwami can choose the wielder in some capacity, and this magical bond can't be changed? Do Kwamis feel a pull towards several people and Guardian then chooses the final holder? If there's no pull whatsoever, then Kwami won't be able to grant powers to this person? How much weight does the decision of a Guardian have?

I actually like this last idea the most. It makes sense and avoids plotholes at the same time preserving the time-limit rule. I spent less than 20 minutes figuring this out.

This way Fu gave Ladybug and Black Cat to children because he didn't have a choice. Plagg and Tikki gave him suggestions but these people didn't pass his tests. Marinette and Adrien are the last ones and they do pass. It adds some tension and showcases desperation on Master Fu's part. Magical pull doesn't always mean that potential holders are good people. That's why Miraculous sometimes end up in the wrong hands.

Insert a conversation between Marinette and Tikki or Plagg and Adrien about this choosing process, have them wonder about the bond Nooroo and Hawkmoth share.

Then add more information about bonding. The magical connection can be formed just like people form relationships if human and Kwami spend some time together. It nicely adds up with the reason why Master Fu gave Ladybug and Black Cat to teenagers. He could have given both jewels to adults without a bond and waited for the connection to form but alas, there was no time. He needed active holders right now, and waiting for some adult to come around wasn't an option. But here's the catch. Only decent, kind people with good intentions can earn and create a magical bond. And this has the potential for a truly delicious scenario (more on that later).

It's a very tricky situation. But these rules must be stated and figured out in the very beginning. Because it can create plotholes down the line.

Unification

Combining several different Miraculous is an interesting concept and fusion of powers has been used for a long time as a storytelling element. It's important for the plot in several episodes of seasons 3 and 4.

However, there's "Kwamibuster", where the worldbuilding is broken one more time. It is awfully inconsistent within itself just like "Chat Blanc", "Timetagger" and "Furious Fu". (How do writers keep doing this? I have no idea. But then again even "Avengers: Endgame" contradicts itself numerous times. It's truly miraculous how they managed to do this with their budget, I'm impressed).

For a moment let's ignore all absolutely awful priorities that Marinette has in this episode as well as the rule "you can't know the identity of your partner or else you will have to give up your miraculous". This rule is literally never mentioned again before or after this episode. It's just there and it doesn't make sense. I know it's hard to ignore, but one must try. Instead, let's focus on this dialogue below.

Master Fu clearly states that you can't merge the Miraculous. It could make you lose your mind. The only more or less acceptable unification is that of Ladybug and Black Cat.

What happens next? Marinette puts on every Miraculous without any problem just "to free Kwamis" and transforms into Multimouse. The only sign of her discomfort is a moment of dizziness that's gone in a few seconds. Moreover, it never happens again, it's never mentioned. Then she does the exact thing that Fu told her not to do and starts merging Miraculous left and right. She continues to do so in season 4 every other day. What? Of course, how could I forget Shadowmoth? Gabriel merges 2 Miraculous every time in season 4. He doesn't lose his mind.

You can't tell us that merging can make you lose your mind and then in the next scene show us the complete opposite. That's bad writing. If you need the concept of unification to work then cancel the "lose your mind" rule and instead say that the merging process tires you out. There's no lasting harm, just that you will be very tired. If you want to raise the stakes, then say that wielding more than one Miraculous requires a strong will and practice. It's possible, but you can't perform unification just like that.

In this case, you lay the groundwork for the plotline of Marinette and Adrien for season 4 and 5. This plotline is about mastering unification. Show us how our heroes practice with different combinations of Miraculouses outside of Akuma battles. Show how they are improving. Maybe, Ladybug and Chat Noir nearly lose in the season 3 finale because the unification still drains them. However, in season 4 they put more effort into their training and by the time season 5 rolls around they are good at this. They became a stronger team and partners because of that. Their training sessions are also a good set-up for the development of the love square. Nothing like this will happen, but a girl can dream.

Look, I get it. You want Marinette to be special. Unfortunately, you have made her too special. She starts to break the laws of your magic system. We don't see the process. One moment she has 0 knowledge about something and then she is already an accomplished master of the thing in question and often it happens in the same episode. Marinette somehow just knows about the properties of every Miraculous on-screen, but her training happened off-screen. We as the audience are left confused and wondering. Wait, how does she know this? Was there a missing episode? Was this mentioned in some comic? The audience keenly feels the lack of plot-relevant content and explanations.

Potions and Power-Ups

They are a marketing ploy to sell more toys and merch with character transformations. That's it. Are they useful for the story? Yes, they are sometimes. Do power-up's make sense as a worldbuilding element? I'm sorry to tell you this, but no.

Miraculous Grimoire contains lots of potion recipes for Kwamis. I liked that Kwamis can't read the grimoire to avoid giving information to malevolent holders, which implies that they can't lie to their holder about their powers. I talked about this in my previous posts.

Let's start with Ice Transformation. Apparently, in-universe its only useful characteristic and the thing that sets it apart from normal transformation is skates. Maybe, this transformation also has additional protection from the cold. Maybe. Miraculous makes heroes nearly invulnerable and enhances their physical abilities. I find it hard to believe that protection from elements is not included in the package. And that's it. If we remember that Miraculous holders have subconscious control over transformation's appearance, we can also assume that a person can have conscious control as well. The laws of the magic system in Miraculous allow Marinette to ask Tikki to create skates for this particular transformation. Potions aren't necessary for this. This way you can still sell new toy, but in-universe this works better.

Our next stop is Aqua Transformation. It gives heroes the ability to breathe underwater and fins. That's all. In "Syren" it appears that this transformation also makes them more agile and fast in the water. However, Ladybug's yo-yo worked just fine before Aqua form when she tried to drag Kim to the surface. Her movements underwater weren't restricted either with normal transformation. So their fighting ability is not affected by the potion.

Kwami can live without oxygen. I mentioned earlier that Bunnix with normal transformation in "Timetagger" spent several thousand years in stone without oxygen and probably in some kind of stasis. Do transformed heroes need oxygen? No. Then their inability to breathe underwater doesn't make sense. Therefore, a potion isn't necessary for this.

Next, let's talk about fins. They could appear through the conscious desire of the holder just like skates.

Honestly, "Timetagger" and "Chat Blanc" completely destroyed worldbuilding in Miraculous. These episodes just shouldn't exist. They aren't even consistent within themselves, nevermind the rest of the show, which is why I still don't understand why fandom has such a weird hard-on for them and for Bunnix. Oh, wait. On second thought, I get it. They were just fanservice after all.

Cosmo Bug an Astro Chat. Space power-up give heroes the ability to fly and exist without oxygen. Ancient grimoire had the recipe of space potion, apparently. And humans got into space in the second half of the 20-th century. Ok. That totally makes sense.

If ancient people invented a space potion, that could also mean that back in Ancient Egypt Ladybug and Black Cat holders could use advanced technology. But Su Han in "Furious Fu" is surprised to discover that Ladybug can just call Chat Noir. He assumed she would send a bird with a message. That means that unconscious control over transformation extends to the weapons of heroes. For Marinette and Adrien communication means smartphone with navigation, messages, trackers and Bluetooth earbuds. That's why magic gives them smart weapons. Su Han's words prove that the invention of the space potion is not possible. Unless space potion was also subjected to unconscious control over transformation. People couldn't imagine the possibility of space travel in Ancient Egypt, but they could imagine flight. So, perhaps, for heroes back then space potion simply meant wings.

We've established that heroes don't need oxygen. So, a potion isn't necessary for this. The ability to fly also could be achieved through conscious transformation.

That's all for this part of analysis. Let me know what you think. Stay tuned for the next meta. See you!