#anyone know any jobs for lazy anxious losers?

[floral-hex]

Had one of those little epiphanies standing in the kitchen earlier where I realized I really truly hate my life. Not the little good things; I love being around my family, I love my pets, coffee, shitty tv. I just really hate where I am. Unemployed, sickly, depressed, anxious, lonely. It was a good little point to tell myself that now is the time to fix it, to start moving towards something better.

Unfortunately, it only lasted a few minutes. Sorry. Too busy preparing a frozen pizza. We can have self-deprecating self-improvement time after lunch.

[trance-griff]

Kyoka Jiro x Kaminari Denki Part Two

Word count (pt.2): 1716

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Part three 

                                            ■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Kaminari Denki woke up that morning groggily, throwing off the blanket to the side, a hand reaching down to scratch his exposed stomach before sitting up with the loudest yawn- running his fingers through his yellow locks- before drooping his shoulders, head-turning to the digital alarm clock.

Eight-Thirty AM.

Today was the day. The highlight of his high-school life about to begin the moment he steps out of the building; he couldn’t wait to meet up with the rest of his buddies and classmates. The arcade, karaoke, and beach called out to him and he quickly jumped out of bed. “Come on buddy, new day, great day!”  Grabbing his mobile- he scrolled through the group chat of class 3-A, the class president is the first to be up and greeting everyone a good morning, affirming whether they were all awake, he was already radiating authority and optimism this early in the morning.

As expected from the class president, the emergency exit guy.

Everyone seemed to be active in the group chat, expressing their excitement even Todoroki had gone about explaining what pair of swimming trunks to take. ‘The red one… Or the blue?’ with Bakugou replying with ‘Live up to your name you half n half bastard!’

It caused Denki to snort, skimming through the chat, giving replies of his own as he sauntered about the room, running his fingers through disheveled strands and picking whatever item needed for today- lazily prepping his duffle bag- until he noticed something off. Everyone on the group chat was online except for one particular person. Kyoka Jiro.

Now that Denki thought of it, she hadn’t been very excited for the trip, avoiding the topic as a whole, not to mention she in general just wasn’t herself. On edge is how he would word it. He wasn’t very book smart, but Denki was always quick to notice these things, being socially intelligent and all. Without hesitation he pressed the green call button, waiting for the call to get through as he pressed the device to his ear and plopped himself on his bed, back against the wall. The two weren’t best friends per se, but they were still close and understood each other on a different level, he respected and admired her.... maybe a little too much, but he wondered if she felt the same way.

“I doubt it…”

                                                           ■□■

Kyoka Jiro was in deep sleep when the buzzing of her phone woke her from her slumber, with squinted eyes she couldn’t believe the name displayed on her phone and perceived it as her in a dream, deciding to roll to her side comfortably, the blanket huddled up under her chin- not until the buzzing started to annoy her that she checked her phone with a frustrated sigh and realized it was indeed Kaminari Denki calling. She rubbed her eyes and pinched herself now fully aware that she was not dreaming. “Heck?”

But why would he be calling?

Deciding to stop overthinking, she sat up and answered her phone with a lazy hello, covering up her stutters with a yawn or an annoyed sigh, a hand reaching up to play with her dark strands. “Oh! Jiro! Morning~!” There was amusement laced in his voice, Jiro flinched, having just woken up, she didn’t need to hear Denki’s energetic voice so early…

…

Wait… What was today…?!

Drawing her curtains open, she was met with the piercing sunlight, cursing under her breath as she shielded her eyes momentarily, the room now bright enough for her to glance at the clock mounted to the wall. “Shit…”

She could hear laughter on the other side of the line, inciting a groan from her. “You totally forgot, didn’t you?” The female was tempted to snap, but bit her lip and instead smiled at his joyous hilarity, her chest swelling up as she pressed the device closer to her ear. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not funny, y’know?” She breathed out, fully awake and aware of her surroundings, she still had time to get ready and leave to meet up with the girls, they agreed to meet up at Tsuyu’s place which wasn’t too far. Stepping to her closet, she shuffled around to pick out her clothes with Denki still chortling in the background. “Can’t help it, it’s not like you to be late or forgetful.” He wasn’t wrong, with how anxious she was about today, she ended up sleeping quite late because of a certain person invading her thoughts, little did she know he would be the first she’d talk to, and it helped ease her mind; miraculously. Maybe because she didn’t have to /face/ him at this very moment.

“I guess. A-Anyway, thanks for calling… to uh wake me up…” She trailed off, cursing under her breath for her awkwardness, she could hear him exhale, picking up on every sound that was emitted by him, her cheeks red as she patiently waited for him to respond. “Uh… yeah! No probs. See you soon?” Denki had more to say, she waited for him to say more but time was passing by and she needed to get ready. “Yeah… Later.” After hanging up, Jiro stared at her mobile before leaning her head against a wall, the shirt she had picked out earlier; clenched between fingers, before realization dawned upon her, why didn’t she ask him when she had the chance?

Why did he call…? More like, why bother calling in the first place?

Knowing she wasn’t going to get her answers, Jiro continued with her day, following her morning routine, and was soon out hurrying towards Tsuyu’s place greeting the females and explaining her tardiness, excluding the part where Denki called her. She didn’t want to be teased, and Mina would definitely talk loudly about it.

“You’re here now, that’s what matters!” Hagakure exclaimed, patting the other’s back.

                                          ��                ■□■

The class finally gathered at their meeting point, the lot of them assembling like that caught a lot of attention so by default they split into groups, some deciding to go shopping instead of the arcade, some had other plans, they promised to meet up again with Tenya Iida throwing in instructions, hands moving in all sorts of ways. “I think we’ll all be fine, Iida…” Izuku Midoriya assured with a sheepish laugh, a hand behind his neck, causing the class president to relax and adjust his glasses. “You’re right, Izuku. Alright! You’re all dismissed!” Everyone mumbled their complaints, they weren’t on a class trip, they didn’t need any babying. “Hey, Hey! The arcade’s right there! Let’s go!” Mina was dragging Jiro towards the direction of the arcade, only to realize the rest of the females weren’t tagging along.

“I get terrible migraines with all the lights; I’ll sit this one out.” Momo explained, lightly rubbing her head with a sympathetic smile, even though it was her idea to go to the arcade and gain an experience of a lifetime, meanwhile Uraraka gestured towards Midoriya with fidgety hands, unable to look at anyone directly in the eye. “I- Maybe I should just check on Deku!” And ran off towards the direction of the freckled boy, Hagakure had disappeared in thin air (No pun intended) Mina explaining she saw her walk off with Ojiro earlier and nudged Jiro with a wink. “They’re cute together, right?” Jiro only laughed sheepishly. “Probably…” and Tsuyu? She simply idled with Tokoyami and Shouji, lounging with them silently, the arcade was not her sort of thing.

Jiro felt betrayed, she certainly didn’t want to spend time with the obnoxious group, knowing full well Denki was there, her stomach churned and she clutched it, despite their short call earlier, all the nerves in her body tensed, this is why she was avoiding this dreadful day, she was stuck with him and Mina did a good job keeping her around. “Oh, Jiro!” She was greeted by the yellow-haired individual, wincing and avoiding his gaze, she was sure he would bring up their previous interaction but surprisingly he didn’t even mention it, not even subtly. “Can we go already?!” Katsuki’s voice boomed, no one flinched at his brash behavior, even Jiro who blankly stared at him, the temperamental bully stormed off on his own while Kirishima ran behind his friend. “Wait up, man!”

“Then hurry the fuck up!” And everyone followed, increasing their pace to catch up to the ticking bomb of a man, at least someone was looking forward to the arcade. As they made their way inside, music and neon lights flooded their vision and hearing, the adrenaline rushing through them and Jiro grinned, the colors of the neon lights reflecting against her skin, the pink and orange and blues called out to her; for a second forgetting all her worries, as much as she liked instruments, the arcade was also her go-to place, she wasn’t a gamer so to say, but now and then she’d spend time playing video games. “Ready to kick some butt?!” Mina challenged the group, running in the direction of the counter to get started with all the games. They were all pumped up, Jiro only stared at them from a distance, a little too shy to open up, as she was lost in her thoughts; once again, a nudge to the shoulder brought her back, Denki purposefully bumped shoulders with Jiro, catching her attention and staring up at him, immediately freezing on the spot. “W-What do you want?” She questioned irritably. “Ready to get your butt kicked?” His confidence radiated as he grinned with his teeth exposed, Jiro responded by straightening her posture shoving her hands into her pockets. “Losers treat winners.”

With a little nudge to his shoulder, Jiro was instantly reminded of their previous interactions, interactions that didn’t involve her getting panicked or flustered around the ball of energy, when things were ‘normal,’ when her feelings were undiscovered and their bond was purely playful and ordinary. This one-sided unrequited love pinched at her chest causing frustration but, just for today… She would enjoy every moment and lock up the feelings that hindered her. These were memories being made for them to keep as they grow older and pursue adulthood and no way would she ruin today because of a one-sided emotion, it wasn’t like Kyoka Jiro at all.

[ganglylimbs]

You Make Me Fall In Love

Fandom: RT/AH

Pairing: Matt/Jeremy

Summary: Matt and Jeremy have always been a pair. But Jeremy notices that something more is going on. 

Notes: For @cool-loser, who commissioned me for some Jeremy/Matt with badass Matt and pinning Jeremy. 

(Commission Info)/ (Patreon)

Matt was on his tenth can of red bull. Or maybe it was his eleventh? He wasn’t exactly sure, he stopped counting after six. 

He sighs as the cool liquid flows down his throat. He would like to believe that he can feel energy course back through his tired limbs but he knows that’s not true. He’s pretty sure that he’s immune to the caffeine by now and really, he only drinks it out of habit. 

He had been up all night, combing through security cameras, trying to look for a break in security at the bank that is the center of their next heist. He knows there is one, can almost see the patterns they would need to replicate in order to slip by, it’s so close it makes his fingers itch. 

But he hasn’t found it yet and he knows that he won’t be able to sleep till he does. 

“Matt?” 

Matt turns to see the sleepy stare of Jeremy, smiling at his Rimmy Tim themed pjs. “Hey, Jeremy. What are you doing up?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jeremy says, crossing his arms to lean against the hallway wall. 

“I’m working,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to be resting.” He eyes the bandage on Jeremy’s arm, the cast on his leg. The last heist hadn’t been so kind to their resident troublemaker. 

Jeremy gives him a grin. It’s not his usual one, not the crazed manic one he shares with Ryan nor the mocking one he shares with his lads. It’s boyish, soft and happy and directed at Matt. 

Matt smiles back. 

“I couldn’t sleep, kept hearing you moving around.” 

Matt knows that’s not the reason, years of working with the other helping him to pick up Jeremy’s code, as easy as he does as if the other was a computer. 

Code: He’s having nightmares. The pain in his limbs makes it too hard to relax. He wants someone to talk to. 

Matt wipes his lips off with the back of his hand before draining the rest of his red bull and throwing the can away. “Well, I’m tired and could use a break. Come cuddle with me?” 

Code: Let me help take your worries away.

Jeremy doesn’t blush, not around anyone, he has no shame, really. But Matt can see the tips of his ears go pink. “Well, if you insist.” 

                                                        ~

Jeremy and Matt have been a team long before the Fakes popped up on their radar. 

Funny enough, they found each other on Craigslist. Or, more apt, Jeremy found Matt. 

Matt was looking for a bodyguard after accidentally pissing off the wrong people (when your job is to hack those that consider themselves unhackable, you would think he would have found protection a long time ago). 

(For being such a smart guy, he’s a fucking dumbass about the simplest things.) 

Anyways, Jeremy, down on his luck and needing a good laugh, had answered the ad. And the rest had been history. 

But. But. 

It isn’t till years later, when they’re comfortable in a penthouse, surrounded by a family forged in blood, laughing as Geoff yells at all of them for trying to sneak bites as he makes dinner, that Jeremy turns. 

And he sees. 

He fucking sees. 

Matt, with long hair tied into a lazy bun, beard still mused from his afternoon nap, head thrown back as he full-on belly laughs at the pout Ryan is giving Geoff after having his hand slapped. It’s a deep laugh, one that comes from the soul, that can’t be faked, and it’s the sweetest thing Jeremy has ever seen. 

He can’t stop staring, not until Michael bumps him. He blinks, turning to the other, who just raises an eyebrow. Jeremy waves him off. He doesn’t have the words to explain what happened, doesn’t think he wants to. 

He just focuses on trying to steady the wild thumping of his heart. 

Well. Fuck. He’s screwed. 

                                                        ~

Thanks to his injuries, Jeremy is put on bed rest for the next heist. 

He hates it. Not just because he’s being left out- even if he knows they aren’t purposefully doing it. No, he hates it because he hates not being there for his crew. Hates that he isn’t there to be the muscles, the distraction. If anyone gets hurt, he knows he’ll blame himself. 

Jeremy huffs, trying to shift and get comfortable on the couch that Ryan and Jack had dumped him on. They had reassured him they were going to make him as comfortable as possible. Their comically large tv was on, the remote close to him so he can change to any station he wants or put on Netflix when he gets bored of that. They left him several cans of soda (doc said no alcohol while he was on painkillers and the mama bears of the group are taking that deadly seriously, even going as far as to hide all the alcohol away) and several bags of different kinds of snacks. Geoff even left a sandwich for him when he wants something more substantial than empty carbs, next to his pill bottle. 

He’s all set. 

It doesn’t stop the way he fidgets, how he can’t settle on anything to watch. How, even though he should eat, he doesn’t feel like it. 

His head hits the back of the couch, sighing. 

In the other room, he can hear Matt. Sometimes speaking so quietly that all he hears is the sound of his voice, no words. Other times, he’s shouting. 

Jeremy’s fingers twitch. 

Deciding, fuck it, he’s not doing himself any favors sitting here, Jeremy carefully gets up and limps his way into their computer room. When he gets there, he stills. Just watching. 

Matt stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by screens and Jeremy has never him see more confident as he switches between them. His hand is to his ear, talking into the comm there. The screens show all the chaos the crew is causing, filled with explosions and gunfire. 

“Free, be careful on your right, a cruiser is coming.” 

“Ramsey, two security guards are trying to sneak their way up the hallway. Pattillo, do you have his back?” 

“Haywood- no I’m not going to call you- fine, fuck, fine- Vagabond, you should be clear to start using rockets.” 

Matt continues to give off orders, smoothly, quickly, without hesitation, and so in control. 

Jeremy feels his heart thumping uncontrollably again, his stomach twisting. He can’t stop the goofy smile on his face. 

Matt turns, almost startled when he catches sight of Jeremy. He pauses for a split second, giving Jeremy a small smile and little wave before going back to giving orders. Jeremy moves deeper into the room, finding a chair to sit in. 

From here, he has a clear view of the crew, can watch as Michael and Ryan kill people and cops along the street, can see Gavin, Fiona, and Lindsay doing crowd control can see Geoff and Jack breaking into the bank. 

That anxious part of him settles. He might not be able to be there to physically take care of them, but at least he knows what’s happening. 

“Jones- no, not you Michael. Lady Jones, watch that guy there. I think he’s going for a cellphone.” 

Matt sighs, giving Jeremy a look. Jeremy covers his mouth to hide a laugh. 

Then he’s back to giving out directions. Jeremy leans back, eyes wandering over him. 

Fuck. He really loves this man. 

                                                           ~

His wounds are healed and the first thing Jeremy wants to do is crash one of his cars. 

“Just so you know,” Matt says, slamming the passenger door behind him. “I object to this.” 

“Noted,” Jeremy says, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He wants the warm weight of a gun in one hand and a grenade in the other as they fly through the air.  

Geoff told him absolutely not. So driving it is. 

“I’m pretty sure Ryan said to take it easy,” Matt continues. 

“Ryan took a missile launcher to a used car lot after the last time he broke his ankle,” Jeremy says. He thrusts his car into reverse and flies out of his garage. “He has no room to talk.” 

They fly down the streets, bouncing up and down and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Matt grab at his seatbelt. Throwing his head back, Jeremy laughs. 

Then he takes one hand off the steering wheel and lays it down on the console. 

It only takes a moment for Matt to grab his hand and squeeze tight. 

They go down the street, they can hear cop cars already raring to go, and Jeremy has never felt more in love. 

                                                        ~

The penthouse is the one place that the crew can gather all together, to be a family, to be loose and relaxed.

But it’s not the only place they can go. Each person has their own apartment, a safe haven away from their safe haven. 

Currently, Jeremy and Matt are at Jeremy’s own safe haven, sitting on the couch and eating popcorn to a bad movie. Matt has an arm around his shoulder and Jeremy has an arm around his waist. 

It’s comfortable for them. Jeremy had always been a touchy person and Matt has always allowed the touch. 

And still, Jeremy feels his heartbeat and his armpits sweat and foot tap against the ground. He can’t place it, but it feels different when it’s just the two of them. 

They feel different. 

Matt yawns. It’s the fifth time he’s done it in the last ten minutes. “Tired?” Jeremy asks. 

“Yeah,” Matt mumbles. His eyes keep drooping. 

Jeremy couldn’t help the small smile splits his lips if he tried. “Hey, come on. Lay here.” He carefully guides Matt’s head so it lays on his shoulder. He pets through those long, silky strands. “You can sleep. I’ll tell you how the movie ends later.” 

Matt mumbles something, too tired to form words. He’s asleep before the next scene changes.

                                                       ~

A punch slams across Jeremy’s face. He turns the side and spits out blood. 

He turns back to his assailant and grins. His left eye is almost swollen closed by this point and his arms ache, tied as they are. And still he keeps his smirk. “Is this the best your boss can send? What was that? I bet your son can hit harder.” 

He’s smacked again for his troubles. 

Safe his ass. Geoff had wanted him to take it easy, to just be crowd control, to give his wounds a rest as he gets back in the groove of heisting.

And a fucking rival crew kidnaps him. 

So now here he is, tied to a chair as they try to beat information out of him. He isn’t sure how long he’s been here, isn’t sure how long he was out when they first got him. He doesn’t even know if he’s still in the state or they had transported him somewhere. 

He doesn’t know if the crew will be able to find him. 

But it doesn’t matter. 

He’ll go down with a smug attitude and two middle fingers up. 

Although…he does regret the fact that he never got to confess to Matt. He was so close to doing it, too. After the heist, when they set off the big bomb they had planned, something to give another middle finger to the LSPD. 

Jeremy had even gotten the lads in on it, filling the bomb with orange and purple dye colors that would have gone everywhere. A marker, for the name Matt had helped him create, who stuck by even when others made fun of it. 

And then he would declare his love over the commns and Matt would know it’s real because he’s risking ridicule from the others and…

Well…

It doesn’t matter now. 

                                                         ~

Jeremy jerks his head up from the weird angle he has it in, ignoring the crick he has. He must have passed out at some point. 

But now, he can hear screaming and yelling and cursing. An explosion. Gunfire. 

He gives a bloody smile. 

They arrive like death, bursting through the door with guns raised. Ryan and Michael are first, but Matt pushes through and-

Jeremy’s breath catches. 

Matt’s face is pulled into a snarl, hair tied up into a bun, with blood splattered across his face, a gun raised to shoot anyone who comes close to Jeremy. 

He was fierce. He was beautiful. 

Jeremy was in love. 

They clear the room and then Matt is running towards him, gently cupping Jeremy’s face. “Oh Jeremy, I’m so sorry, I tracked you as fast as I could but we hadn’t realized you were taken until-” 

Jeremy shushes him but it doesn’t come out right and just makes the worry lines on Matt’s face deepen. “Kne-you would. Would-would-would come.” 

“Don’t talk,” Matt says.

“But I need,” Jeremy coughs. “I need to tell you something-” 

-And then he passes out. 

                                                        ~

He wakes up with a headache and Matt calling him an idiot. 

Not an unusual way to wake up. 

But this time, his body is aching and he feels like his entire chest is just one giant bruise. 

“Fuck,” he says, blinking up at Matt’s face. 

Matt gives a watery grin. “You could say that. How are you feeling?” 

“I think I just answered that.” He closes his eyes. “How long is Geoff making me sit out?” 

“I think you mean, how long am I making you sit out?” Matt says and his voice is stern. 

“Nooooooooo, don’t make me. I’ll go crazy.” 

“Don’t worry.” And then Matt is twinning his hands together with Jeremy’s. “I think I can keep you occupied till then.” 

Jeremy’s eyes are wide as he looks up at Matt’s hopeful face than down at their hands. Swallowing, he tightens his grip, hands sweaty against Matt’s. “Yeah...yeah. I think you can.”

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ten episodes into Critical Role (starting with the second season, and NO SPOILERS PLEASE), and okay yeah, I get why people like the show.

There’s a lot to talk about and I’m sure most of it’s been said before, but I’m just in love with how nuanced and contradictory these characters are.  And contradictory is exactly the right word, not just because of how they oppose each other (though goddamn that is fun), but how they oppose themselves, how every single character is this mess of characteristics that don’t match up on first glance, except they actually fit together to create such rich characters.

Like Fjord, okay, start with him--he’s not the leader because this group is too much of a disaster to have a leader, but he’s the most consistently calm, solid, reliable, and generally sensible person in the whole group.  Which is not usually how you’d expect your party’s half-orc to behave, but that’s fine, that’s just messing with race expectations, that’s easy.  What’s interesting about Fjord is that he’s so clearly the group’s token decent guy, the honest man.  He has an eldritch nightmare and actually tells the others about it, which nobody else in that fucking crew except maybe Jester would.  He’s a straightforward guy who seems like he was maybe actually normal once, again unique in this group, who also happens to be a warlock with very clearly eldritch powers he doesn’t understand.  And he has no problem whatsoever with using and expanding those powers, or with killing, or with stealing and conning and enjoying any ill-gotten gains the group may collect.  His objections to the team’s plans are almost always practical and logistical (the ‘this seems very complicated and also is likely to end in this very obvious disaster when this logical hole gives way under us’ sort), not moral.  It consistently feels like, if he hadn’t had whatever disaster shipwreck eldritch sea-beast warlock pact experience set him off on this path, he out of the whole group would be obeying laws and being generally decent to the people around him and working a simple, honest job with some hard labor involved, and he’d be happy with it--but he’s on this boat now and he’s in completely, and he’s just as forthright with that loyalty as he is with everything else.

And Jester is flighty and silly and fun and describes a childhood that horrifies the entire rest of the group in blithe, carefree tones, and I love it so much because it makes so much sense.  Sure, she was isolated, secluded, and hidden from the world for years--but it was important for her mom’s business, and her mom loved her, and it was normal, and it was fine.  Because that’s normal to her.  And she’s completely carefree about her childhood, just like she makes a carefree game out of slaughtering gnolls and being entirely willing to kill guards or other sentient people, with the same level of fun as she gets pulling minor pranks.  She would happily and generously give away pastries or money or healing to anyone, and then turn right around and fuck up their entire day just because it’s funny, and not even see a conflict there.  Except that every once in a while we get a glimpse of just how desperately lonely she’s been for so fucking long--and it only comes out when she’s talking to or about the Traveler.  It’s never when she’s talking about home, or the brothel, or the room when she was locked in, because those things were normal and fine.  What’s not fine is the idea that she might lose contact with the Traveler, or maybe her mother.  And of course that’s it.  Because everything that was normal and fine and happy and funny had to be okay, because it was life, and that’s just how it was, but the Traveler and maybe her mother were the things that made it all okay, and if she loses them, she loses everything.

And I haven’t even begun to figure out Nott yet, Nott who seems in many aspects like the most straightforward member of the whole crew--not in the Fjord way of directness and honesty, but in the easy, tropey, simple-to-classify way.  The goblin rogue who loves picking pockets and collecting shiny things, quick and sly and easily intimidated, with quick fingers and a bit of a background in alchemy, it all makes sense.  Nott makes sense.  Except that if you take a step back and look around at context, Nott makes no fucking sense at all.  I have no idea why she’s out here, adventuring with these losers, instead of back home with the other goblins.  We have seen zero other goblins out and around populated places so far.  Even her partnership with Caleb straddles the line between ‘oh, of course’--a couple of criminals who met in prison and helped each other escape and decided it was more practical to stick together? sure! makes sense for a goblin!--and ‘wait, what the fuck?’.  Why was Nott in any sort of prison that Caleb would ever be in to begin with?  If she was arrested by humans, why didn’t they just kill her outright, given the attitudes most humans we’ve seen seem to have to goblins?  She is so friendly and ready to hang with the rest of the group, is so delighted to play with Jester, she’s such a social creature, so how did she ever end up playing sidekick with this socially awkward human disaster to begin with?

And right, speaking of Caleb, the man is a goddamn mess, even putting aside all of his stubbornness and his mysteries and the actual literal mess of him.  He’s shy and awkward and anxious and scared around people, except for when he decides to very intensely threaten somebody with murder and disembowelment, just as a matter of course.  He’s anxious about everything, but he’s okay with monster-hunting.  And he’s fine with murder, so long as it isn’t done with fire, he’s one of the first to go in for robbing corpses, he straight up does not give a shit about the people he and Nott rob, he doesn’t trust or even particularly like the rest of the Nein, he doesn’t (appear to) care about other people at all--except that he would do anything for Nott, full stop.  And he has strong feelings about parents and kids and families, and he gave Jester the money he swiped from the spider lair because he got angry at her for being an apparent spoiled rich girl and wanted to apologize, and because it seemed important to her an he cared.  And all of these truths hang together around the central figure of this one guy with a fucked-up past he doesn’t have words for, who prefers books to people and doesn’t really know what he’s doing, in the world, in general, even at the fairly low level he thinks he does.

And of course Caleb keeps clashing with Beau, because Beau is simultaneously so self-invested and yet also somehow more interrogative of the whole world around her than anyone else in the group.  Beau wants to know all of Caleb’s secrets.  She wants to know everybody’s secrets, but she wants Caleb most of all, because he’s spent the most effort trying to keep them that way.  And she’s so curious about her party members, so curious about things going on in the world--she asks more questions about random shit than anyone, she’s currently spearheading both the investigation into the Gentleman and, with Fjord, the Zadash revolutionary’s club, because she wants to know.  Except Beau never gives off the impression of actually liking anybody or anything she discovers.  (Fjord trying to give her lessons on complimenting somebody without making it sound like a backhanded insult was amazing.)  She has ‘chip on my shoulder’ writ so large across her it might as well be in neon.  She is Out For Herself; she hates the system but she’s not going to go looking for ways to take it down, not when she can drink and fight shit to get cash that she can spend to drink with.  But she can’t stop asking questions.  She Doesn’t Care, but she can’t stop trying to learn more.  And right, the constant back and forth of ‘yes she cares’-’no she’s a self-interested bitch’ could feel wishy-washy, but instead it just feels right, because Beau is very young and very angry and very impulsive, and she is very bad at effectively caring for the things and people she cares about, and it is so clear that she’s been treated so badly and had so little power to fight back.  And now she’s got the power to fight back so she lashes out and she hits things and she’s constantly mean, and she chokes out the little girl she got arrested to protect two days earlier because nobody ever taught Beau how people actually take care of other people, did they.  She needs to know Caleb’s secrets because Caleb having stuff going on that he won’t talk about means that there are factors at play that can affect Beau’s life that she can’t control, can’t even know about.  All I know about her parents so far is that they had enough money to pay a temple to take her away when she caused too much trouble for them.  Which actually appears to say pretty much everything that needs to be said.

And fucking Mollymauk Tealeaf, the one goddamn spoiler I had for this show before I started it and I am simultaneously gutted over him from day one and grateful to be prepared because I do not think I would take losing him well as a surprise.  Molly is so fucking good.  He’s a good character, and he’s such a good person, except he would cheerfully deny it with a grin if anyone ever accused him of it.  He is such a tremendous cynic.  He has been all over and he believes that people in groups of any size are stupid, dangerous, probably corrupt, generally bigoted, probably lazy, and out for themselves at every turn.  No horror anyone does can surprise him, and yet he’s blithe and easy about it all.  Of course people are terrible, that’s just how people are, no sense getting depressed over it.  He’ll just slide his way in with a smile and a deck of tarot cards and a bit of flash and dazzle, use people’s vices against them, maybe run just a bit of a con if it looks to be profitable, and slide right back out again.  Except that by god, Molly cares every bit as much as Beau does and unlike her, he actually knows it.  He was ready to go to the mat for any- and everyone in that circus, called it a family and held on to it as hard as he possibly could even as everyone in it bickered and hated each other and were ready to jump town and leave each other behind.  He is so kind to people with less than he has.  And he’s never forceful about it, he never pushes his care forward, he just makes a few gentle comments to Jester about expectations and disappointment that might help ease the crushing blow he so clearly sees coming her way, without actually calling her out or starting an argument.  He just suggests to Nott that there exist people in the world that shouldn’t be robbed, not because they’ve no money worth stealing but because those people can’t afford to lose what little they have.  At some point he took it upon himself to be the person who keeps an eye on everyone else in the party, whether to try to defuse an argument or pick someone up when they’re down or corner them and take them to task, quietly, out of earshot of all the others.  It’s impossible not to get the sense that Molly is already more invested in this group working and staying together than anyone else here, and he takes that fact as a given, and he’s ready to put in the quiet background work to keep it in one piece.  He’s already brushed off or buried whatever mourning he did for the broken circus family he so clearly loved so well, and it should be a contradiction, but mostly it just feels like Molly is too used to being ready for things to go south and people to leave, because life is just shit like that and you take what you can get.  He treats love exactly the same way he treats money: a thing that’s hard to come by and well worth collecting if you possibly can, to be enjoyed and played with to the very fullest while you have it, because soon enough it’ll be gone again either way.

At any rate, I’m really enamoured of this show that has characters so nuanced by ten episodes in.  (Granted, ten episodes clocks close to 40 hours, but shhhh.  D&D time is different.)  I chalk a ton of it up to, ‘oh, shit, this is why voice actors are the perfect people to put on D&D as a massive serial fiction adventure’.  Every single person at the table makes a living out of putting nuance into characters with just their voice, so of course they know what they’re doing, and they’ve all played zillions of characters (their IMDB pages are so long, jfc) with plenty of nuance to begin with.  They know how to do this shit.

The other thing, I think, is that everybody at the table feels safe with the idea that they’ll have enough time to draw these characters out all the way to the end.  Everybody in this group has so many secrets, so many of the linking pieces that lay out and explain the layers and contradictions, and nobody is rushing to pull any of them out on the table right up at the start, because everybody there is totally secure in the idea that they’ll get 500-odd hours to tell this story and it doesn’t all have to happen yet.  Character death is always a risk, but the only healer isn’t going to up and move to another state, and nobody is going to get married and have no time any more, and the DM’s manager at work isn’t going to suddenly start assigning Thursday night shifts and all of the sudden scheduling is a disaster for so long it never gets fixed.  Nobody is going to decide they don’t care any more and just stop showing up.  They’ve been at this together a long, long time, and also they’re making an actual show about it that they actually get paid for, and they can take as long to tell the story, and make it whatever story, that they want.  It’s a really different kind of energy than any D&D game I ever managed to play, and even different from most shows that never know when the ‘cancel’ hammer might come down from the network.

It’s pretty cool.  I like it a lot.

[waywardnerd67]

Make It Official

Summary: (Y/N) is visiting her childhood best friend, Jensen Ackles, during his Dallas Convention. All of his cast mates and friends teasing them constantly to make things official. None of them knowing just how much (Y/N) wanted that to come true. Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader (mentions of various SPN Cast) Pairing: Jensen x Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 2447 A/N #1: @supernatural-jackles Weekly Writing Challenge Prompts: “I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” / “Why are you crying?” (BOLD) A/N #2: @wonderfulworldofwinchester Dancing Into 1500 Song Challenge (BOLD/Italic) A/N #3: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy! Special Note: This is a work of FICTION and should be enjoyed as such. I mean absolutely no disrespect to the Ackles family as I truly adore and admire them. 

(Y/N) finished up her last customer phone call with a big smile on her face. All her co-workers had been giving her trouble all day for the great mood she was in. “Seriously, (Y/N) what are you doing with your extended weekend?”

She looked over to her co-worker, Mindy, smiling widely. “I told you, I am going to a Supernatural Convention with my best friend.”

Mindy rolled her eyes, “Still can’t believe you watch that show. Even if the main actors are hot. Well enjoy your weekend.”

(Y/N) grabbed her things and waved goodbye to all of them. Walking out to the parking garage she noticed a someone in a dark hat leaning against her car. Clutching her cell phone in her jacket pocket she slowly approached him.

“Hey pretty girl.” The all too familiar voice of her childhood best friend sent her running into his arms.

“Jensen! What the hell are you doing here?” she asked hugging him tightly.

He chuckled setting her down giving her a bright smile, “I came into town early to see the family and I came to kidnap you for dinner.”

(Y/N) nodded excitedly, “Dinner with the Ackles? I’m in! Did you get dropped off or should I meet you there?”

Jensen pointed over to his SUV, “I drove. It was nice having a couple of hours to myself on the road. Just come on over whenever you want. We’ll eat, drink and catch up.”

He hugged and kissed her temple before they parted ways. Once (Y/N) was back at her apartment she took a quick shower and put on her favorite pair of jeans with nice green top along with her Chucks. She put her hair up in a messy bun and grabbed her purse.

The drive to the Ackles’ home was only about twenty minutes. No matter how many times she had been there her stomach always filled with butterflies. (Y/N) met Jensen on the first day of Kindergarten when a boy was picking on her because she wore glasses. Jensen stuck up for her pushing the boy down and getting into trouble for it. From that moment on they were inseparable until he moved out to Los Angeles to start his career.

The day he drove off in his Pathfinder he took part of her heart with him. That part has continued to be with him throughout all this time. (Y/N) had never been brave enough to tell Jensen about her feelings for him. Even though everyone around them could see it and mercilessly made fun of her for it. She walked up to the front door and could hear everyone outside in the backyard.

(Y/N) made her way to the back seeing all the Ackles family and Jared Padalecki spread out around the large table. “(Y/N)!” Kenzie called out as everyone turned to look at her.

(Y/N) made her way hugging everyone until Jensen slipped his arm around her shoulders, “Alright, alright back off my best girl. Let her breathe for a moment, vultures.”

She laughed leaning into his embrace as he led her over to the cooler that held all the beer. (Y/N) fell into easy conversations throughout dinner with everyone. After dinner (Y/N), Jensen and Jared ended up sitting out in the yard drinking and talking.

“Seriously, you two need to just make it official.” Jared said sitting cross legged in front of her and Jensen.

(Y/N) was leaning back against Jensen comfortably nestled between his bowlegs. She quickly put her beer to her lips drinking the last of it. “Look at that I need another.” She said starting to get up.

“I’ll go get it.” Jensen said getting up and taking her empty bottle.

“Spill it.” Jared said looking pointedly at her.

(Y/N) scoffed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Padalecki.”

His intense stare was making her anxious, “Oh my god. You’re in love with him.”

“W-What… I mean, no.” She stammered trying to think quickly but her beer clouded mind was not functioning.

“(Y/N), come on don’t play dumb. You’re in love with Jensen and he has no idea.” She looked behind her to see Donna and Kenzie talking with Jensen at the cooler.

Looking back to Jared she moved closer to him speaking quietly, “Alright, yes I have feelings for Jensen. Yes, he has no idea and it’s going to stay that way. We’re best friends and I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

“Not even if he’s in love with you?” Jared asked a small knowing smile on his lips.

(Y/N)’s heart leaped in her chest and her hands trembled at the possibility of him loving her other than just a friend. “Jared, he doesn’t. He doesn’t love me…”

“Who doesn’t love you?” Jensen asked sitting back down next to her while handing them both a beer.

“Oh no one. That jerk I was dating a few months back.” She said quickly.

Jensen scoffed rolling his eyes, “I don’t know how you keep end up with these losers. They have no idea what they’re missing. I think you’re amazing and I love ya.”

Jared coughed while saying, “Told you.” (Y/N) glared at him as he cleared his throat.

The next day she spent with Jensen and Jared hitting some of their old stomping grounds from high school including sitting out the benches on the baseball field of their high school. That night they had gone out to a few local bars the boys getting recognized immediately any place they went. (Y/N) was used to fans being all over Jensen, but for some reason that night it was bothering her a lot.

Saturday had ended up being a lazy day for (Y/N) as Jensen and Jared were at the convention center. However, that night she went with them to the Saturday Night Special concert. Standing off to the side with Clif, she watched as all the talented cast got up on stage to sing. The crowd roared when Jensen took the stage singing Whipping Post and Like A Wrecking Ball.

After the concert, (Y/N) and Jensen had stay out drinking with some of the band in the backstage area. They were both stumbling up to his hotel room giggling like kids. (Y/N) flopped down on his couch kicking off her shoes.

“Man, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” She said as Jensen sat next to her.

He laid his head down on her lap looking up at her with a lopsided grin, “Yeah it was fun tonight. I should have dragged you up there with me to sing. You’re the better singer.”

“Oh hell no. I wasn’t the one who was always getting the lead in the musicals for drama. I am happy to stay behind the scenes and ignored by everyone.” She said gently running her fingers through his thick sandy brown hair.

Jensen rolled his bright olive eyes at her, “(Y/N) tell me the truth… is everything okay?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

(Y/N) bit her lip nervously not knowing how to answer that question without opening a can of worms she was not prepared to open. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“I feel like something is missing in my life. I have a decent job that allows me to pursue my writing goals. I have great friends and well you know my family has never been picture perfect, but things are calm. I don’t know… I just…” she let her sentence drift away.

Jensen took her hand resting on his chest in his, “Feel like there is something more that you’re missing out on?” She nodded as he continued, “I’ve been feeling the same way lately. That’s why I was excited to come back home. Hoping to see if that helped.”

“Did it?” she asked as he smiled up at her.

Jensen smiled softly, “Yeah it has, really I think it’s being around you that makes everything better.”

(Y/N) felt her heart thumping against her chest trying to not let his words go to her head before she could stop herself she said, “I feel the same way, Jay.”

The next morning, they got up getting ready for his early panel with Jared. Before they went out on stage he pulled her into a hug and she kissed his cheek. (Y/N) took her spot next to Clif again to watch their panel.

“Dude, hold it a second.” Jared said reaching over to touch the cheek she had kissed. Jensen backed away as Jared chuckled, “You have lipstick on your cheek, I’m just trying to help you out.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks burning as Jensen started laughing wiping his cheek with the back of his sleeve. The audience was awing as he just shrugged his shoulders. He stepped up to his microphone, “Alright, alright before any rumors start. My best friend is here, and she had lipstick on. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek.”

She knew that would not keep the fans from asking about her and now she just wanted to disappear, so no one could see her. (Y/N) felt Clif rubbing her back reassuringly as she put her head in her hands. The first few questions were about the upcoming season and she was allowing herself to relax hoping the fans were satisfied with Jensen explanation.

“Hi Jared, hi Jensen. My question is for Jensen, I was wondering if you were ever going to make things official between you and (Y/N)? I mean you two seemingly are great together and she’s your best friend.” The fan asked as (Y/N)’s body filled with panic.

Jared was now walking away from his microphone laughing. Jensen glared at him before answering, “You’re right, (Y/N) is my best friend and I would never want anything to happen to that friendship. We’re just friends, nothing more and nothing less.”

Hearing Jensen say those words were more than she could handle. It was the final nail in the coffin that held her feelings for him. Feeling the tears welling up in her eyes she walked backstage to the green room where no one was in yet. Sitting on the couch alone in the dark room, she let the tears flow freely as her heart felt like it was slowly breaking apart.

There was a knock on the door several minutes later. (Y/N) remained silent and then the door opened flooding the darkness with light. She heard the click of the light switch and the door shutting. She refused lift her head from her hands as more tears came down her face.

“Why are you crying” Jensen asked sitting next to her.

When his hand touched her back she flinched, “I know everybody wants you. That ain't no secret, asking ‘Hey baby what's your status? And tell me are you tryna keep it?” she said looking up her make up running down her cheeks.

“What?” he asked confused bringing over a box of tissues for her.

Everything (Y/N) had been feeling slipped through her lips in that exact moment, “Well, they can all back off cause I know what I want and while I got your attention, did I mention? If you got a kiss on your lips that you're lookin' for somebody to take heyy. If you got a heart that ain't afraid to love ain't afraid to break heyy. If you've got a Friday night free and a shotgun seat, well I'm just sayin', I ain't got nowhere to be. So, baby I'll take whatever it is you've got to give, yaa I'll callin' dibs.”

“(Y/N), I… I don’t know what to say…” He looked down at his hands as she stood up.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t feel the same way and even if you did it wouldn’t matter. I’m not the type of girl you’re meant to be with. The media would have a field day with me not perfect and I know you can’t upset your fans because we all know what they think.” She said pacing now.

Jensen stood up grabbing ahold of her shoulders making her face him, “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, (Y/N). If they don’t know how amazing and beautiful you are then they don’t know you like I do.”

She rolled her eyes, “But now everything has changed since you know I have feelings for you. I’ve ruined our friendship now.” Sadness filled her chest and the need to run from him was making her body restless.

Suddenly, Jensen’s hands were on either side of her face and his lips were on hers. Her hands were braced against his firm chest as she felt her body relax against his. When his lips left hers, she looked up at him wide eyed.

“You always assume the worst. I always thought that my life and schedule would be too crazy for you. That is why I never admitted to having feelings for you. I didn’t think you would feel the same and I didn’t want to lose you. So, my lips, my heart, my shotgun seat is all yours if you want them.” He said smiling widely.

(Y/N)’s mind was reeling as he slipped his arms around her waist. “Boy, I'm callin' dibs on your hand, on your heart, all mine. Make everybody jealous when I take you off the market” she said bring out a wonderful laugh from him.

“I was hoping you would say that. So then, it’s official?” he asked a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Come on and show me what I'm missin', yeah. If you got a kiss on your lips that you're lookin' for somebody to take heyy. If you've got a heart that ain't afraid to love ain't afraid to break heyy. If you've got a Friday night free and a shotgun seat well, I'm just sayin' I ain't got nowhere to be. So, baby I'll take whatever it is you've got to give, yaa I'm callin' dibs!” (Y/N) said wrapping her arms around his neck hugging him closely.

Jensen was laughing as he picked her up and spun her around. Just then there was a knock and Jared walked in, “You two okay?” he asked.

They both nodded, “Better than okay. It’s official.” (Y/N) said as Jensen leaned down kissing her.

“About damn time! Hey Speight, you owe me twenty bucks because it’s official!” Jared called out as he walked out of the room.

“You ready for this whirlwind life with me?” Jensen asked as (Y/N) slipped her hand into his.

“Absolutely.” She said following him out into a cheering crowd of cast mates and closest friends.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

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[angstmatsuscenarios]

Headcanon where Choromatsu's anxiety and anxious desire to be someone in society was caused by an abusive school teacher (a little bit of Sokudo and Suiriku pls)

Here we go! Back in business!

So I tried to base some of their behaviors in the first half on what we know of the movie as well as headcanons–Kara is a bit more meek and Choro tries hard to be a good student (which seems to not be the case in canon but shhh). The latter part is -San age. 

Hope you enjoy!

“Choromatsu, this is a very disappointing grade.”

Choromatsu swallowed hard, forcing back his shame and embarrassment as he met his teacher’s stern gaze. Fujita-San regarded him severely as he drummed his fingers against his desk, on top of Choromatsu’s English test–the big “40%” slashed across the top of the paper in bright red ink seemed to be mocking him.

“I…I know, Fujita-San,” Choromatsu muttered, bowing his head slightly. “I swear, I’ll try to do better next time.”

“If I’m not mistaken, that’s the same promise you made last time,” Fujita-San deadpanned, and Choromatsu shrank back under his sharp glare. “And you did not exceed any expectations. In fact, I believe it’s lower than last time. Did you study at all?”

“Yes!” Choromatsu cried indignantly. “Of course I did…I studied really hard. But…”

He froze, unable to articulate what he wanted to say next. That he struggled with English, but felt fairly confident after plugging in hours of study time. That the second he stepped into Fujita-San’s classroom, any bit of confidence he had evaporated, that he was too afraid to raise his hand and ask questions for fear of being ridiculed–and so often, being called on and belittled by the teacher in front of the whole class anyway. That tests in his class caused him so much anxiety he could hardly focus, that all the information he’d pored over flew from his mind, that he knew his teacher was expecting him to fail and it made him feel so awful that he just…failed.

But no, he couldn’t say any of that. The words dried up on his tongue before they could make it out of his mouth. All he could offer was a meek, “Sorry. But…I did study.”

“I’m really doubting that, Choromatsu,” Fujita-San stated flatly. “You need to work harder and bring up this grade, immediately. You’ve been floundering in this class lately, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m going to have to send a note home to your parents.”

Choromatsu’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “N-no! Please don’t do that, I promise I’ll improve…!”

“I’m sorry, but I have no choice.” Fujita-San’s tone didn’t carry a hint of remorse as he scribbled out the dreaded note to Choromatsu’s parents. He handed it to Choromatsu, who took it with trembling hands and a sinking heart. “Please give this to your parents to sign, and bring it back to me tomorrow.”

“….yes, Sensei,” Choromatsu responded softly, feeling sick to his stomach.

With that, Choromatsu began to trudge slowly toward the door. He stopped in his tracks when Fujita-San called to him again.

“Choromatsu.”

Choromatsu turned cautiously, bracing himself. “Y-yes, Sensei?”

“I’d better see improvement on your part,” Fujitsu-San said icily. “Because if I don’t, you won’t be getting into a good college, and where will you go from there? If you want to be successful in this world, you need to apply yourself…because as it stands, your future isn’t looking very bright.”

Your future isn’t bright.

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Choromatsu spun on his heel and marched out the door, keeping his head low. His breath came in short bursts, and he blinked rapidly to try and stem the flow of tears now in his eyes.

Your future isn’t bright.

It echoed mercilessly in his head, taunting him. My future isn’t bright…

“Choromatsu?”

Choromatsu jumped and turned to find Karamatsu standing there, a worried expression on his face.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you went home!” Choromatsu’s face reddened at the thought that one of his brothers had heard this.

“N-no…I heard the teacher ask you to stay behind, so I lingered out here and waited for you so you could have some company on the walk home.” Karamatsu frowned slightly. “Um…is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” Choromatsu kept walking down the hall, letting Karamatsu pick up the pace to keep up with him. “He just had a question, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Karamatsu asked pensively. “You seemed pretty upset when you walked out…and Sensei didn’t look too happy either. I know how hard he is on you…”

“That’s an understatement,” Choromatsu mumbled to himself, but didn’t elaborate. “It’s nothing.”

Karamatsu bit at the inside of his cheek, looking troubled. “Choro…you would tell us if the teacher were doing something mean to you, right? It looked like he was really chewing you out and…I don’t know, it seems like that’d hurt a lot. I know I would be upset.”

Choromatsu kept his gaze on the tiled flooring of the school hallway, averting his eyes from Karamatsu. The threat of tears still stung his eyes, and he knew if he let his guard down he’d crumble and start crying in front of his brother.

He didn’t want Karamatsu, or anyone in his family for that matter, just how badly Fujita-San treated him. They’d probably just think Choromatsu was being weak, that he couldn’t rise to the academic challenge…that he was stupid.

That his future wasn’t bright.

“I’m fine,” he said at last to Karamatsu, drawing in a deep breath. “Can we please not talk about this anymore? I’m not in the mood for this.”

Karamatsu hesitated, as if he wanted to ask something else, but in the end he just said, “Okay, Choromatsu, but please…talk to me if you need anything.”

Choromatsu nodded silently, but his mind had already drifted a thousand miles away, rehashing all of the fantasies of a fantastic and prosperous future he’d always clung so tightly to.

Futures that were brighter than he could ever hope for.

—————

Choromatsu stared in dismay at the job magazine spread out on the table in front of him, his feelings of panic and dread mounting as he pored over each listing.

I’m not qualified for any of these jobs…I’m not good enough for them. They all require way more experience than I have…

He sighed, raking his hands through his hair, wrestling with his disappointment and shame. He’d searched for jobs tirelessly this past week, but with the same fruitless results. No one wanted to hire a loser like him, a stupid NEET with no skills or references or anything with potential…

I guess my future really isn’t so bright…

“Oi, Choro!”

Choromatsu glanced up as Osomatsu entered the room, flashing a lazy grin as he sat down across from him.

“Oh, hey, Oso.” Choromatsu tried to brush him off as he went back to his job hunt. “I’m kind of busy here.”

“C’mon, Choro, you’ve been at this all day. Don’tcha think you should take a break?” Osomatsu asked. “I was thinking we could round everybody up and go to Chibita’s. You in?”

“I don’t really feel like going.” Choromatsu didn’t lift his head, but he wasn’t focused on his task either.

“Why not? Aren’t you hungry?”

Choromatsu just shrugged.

“Seriously, Choro…why are you so hell-bent on this?” Osomatsu’s tone was suddenly a little more serious, and if Choromatsu wasn’t mistaken a little concerned. “It’s not good to stress over this as much as you do. You can afford a little break.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve already wasted too much time as a good-for-nothing NEET, I have to find work,” Choromatsu insisted. “Don’t you get it?”

“Ah…I guess?” Osomatsu frowned. “It’s just you always get so upset when you go on these job hunts and don’t find anything…you’re letting it give you too much anxiety.”

“Well, why shouldn’t I?” Choromatsu snapped, shooting Osomatsu a glare. “All of this endless searching, these back-to-back rejections…they all mean something. And that something is that I’m a big, fat failure who will never amount to anything. My future isn’t bright at all!”

“What….what’re you talking about, Choro?” Osomatsu furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “So you didn’t get hired for a couple of jobs, that doesn’t mean you’re future isn’t bright…”

“No…it does.” Choromatsu sighed heavily. “It’s just like what Fujita-San said to me…”

“Fujita-San…eh?” Now Osomatsu looked even more baffled. “Our teacher from, what, year two? What does he have to do with this?”

“He…” Choromatsu froze. He had never told anyone what their teacher had told him all those years ago, even though it still echoed in his head even now. He’d always been too humiliated to share it, but now…it felt like a heavy weight pressing against his chest, and it hurt.

Osomatsu watched him closely. “He what…?”

Choromatsu drew in a deep breath. Maybe it was time for the truth to come out.

“He…he belittled me all the time,” he confided quietly. “He would berate me for wrong answers in class, and whenever I did badly on a quiz he always told me I didn’t try hard enough, even when I did. And he…” Choromatsu gulped, realizing that tears were forming in his eyes, blurring his vision. “He t-told me my future wasn’t b-bright. That I was a failure.”

“Choro…oh my god, are you serious?” Osomatsu exclaimed, his jaw dropping in shock.

“Y-yeah.” Choromatsu nodded miserably.

“And you never told us?”

“I was too embarrassed to! I thought…I just assumed it had to be true…” Choromatsu rubbed at his eyes, mad at himself for crying over this.

“Choro, no,” Osomatsu said firmly, placing his hands on Choromatsu’s shoulders and looking him squarely in the eyes. “Don’t you realize that was basically verbal abuse? He was making you feel that way on purpose, for no reason. Man, I wish you would’ve told me because I would have let him have it…”

“B-but think about it…he’s right, isn’t he?” Choromatsu sniffled. “I am a failure…I can’t do anything right, I can’t get a job. He was right all along.”

“Just because you haven’t found the right job yet does not make you a failure,” Osomatsu asserted, tightening his grip on Choromatsu’s shoulders ever so slightly so he got the message. “He’s full of bullshit. Hell, you have more potential than the rest of us combined. Because you’re smart, and you don’t give up easily. You can have a bright future, trust me.”

Can I, though…?

Choromatsu had no idea. All this time he’d convinced himself he was hopeless, all because of a horrible thing some stupid teacher had said to him. Maybe he did have potential, maybe he could get a job and still be successful…but it was going to take time to undo this damage and tell himself that.

For now he leaned closer to Osomatsu, and Osomatsu took the hint and pulled him in close for a hug. Osomatsu was probably right, Choromatsu needed a break for now.

Maybe tomorrow, he could tackle his hunt with renewed energy. Or maybe the next day. He was going to need some time.

[novamelt]

CONNECTIONS ARE WANTED !

   beneath the cut i have all of my muses, a lil’ description of them, & the    connections i need for them. please do not be shy if you feel like you    would like to fill one of these connections. feel free to ask questions if    need be.

ANY CONNECTION BOLDEDIS HIGHLY REQUESTED.

ANY CONNECTION ITALICIZED ARE MUSES I WANT CONNECTIONS FOR BUT HAVE LITTLE/TO NO IDEAS FOR.

synopsis: abby is the head of a russian cult. she’s more money motivated than loyalty motivated.  --  adult, pansexual.

FRIEND FROM HOME: this person would have to be russian. most likely sent from her family to keep a close eye out on her. 

LOYALIST: someone who is very head over heels for abby. maybe was manipulated this way. does a lot of her dirty work.

synopsis: aimee is a high school student. she doesn’t quite fit in to any crowd. she’s down to earth & very in touch with herself. -- teenager, pansexual.

GIRLFRIEND: aimee is trying to explore all of the possibilities her sexuality has to offer, but she would keep this girl a secret.

synopsis: alek is a construction worker. he doesn’t like his job, or anything really. he’s a very grumpy man, who enjoys liquor and solitude. -- adult, heterosexual.

SOFT BABY LOVER: this girl would be the opposite of him. someone gentle, sweet, caring. basically a girl willing to suffer to fix him.

synopsis: annalise is a high school student. she’s your local dungeon master & arcade dweller, despite not wanting to be, -- teenager, pansexual.

BEST FRIEND: this person would also be a fellow nerd. most likely very in touch with her family, plays d&d with them. can be any gender. 

WANNA BE FRIEND: this person would most likely be a cheerleader, but a popular kid for sure. ana would pursue them, try to please them - anything to try and make a break away into a popular crowd.

synopsis: anthony is part of a russian cult. he was sent to the american operations to watch over his sister, who they put in charge,. he’s very well mannered, and reclusive. -- adult, pansexual.

HIDDEN LOVER: the american operations is about abby, not himself. so any romance he found he would keep hidden and restricted.

synopsis: apollo is part of a russian cult. he’s stealthy, which you wouldn’t guess by just how goofy and laid back he is. -- adult, pansexual.

BUDDY: apollo is a good time and is very charismatic. he could easily make a fellow trouble maker his pal, and they could go around causing little bits of mayhem together.

synopsis: barker is a comedian. he’s very anxious and doubtful of himself, but hides it behind jokes. -- adult, pansexual.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: barker just needs someone to comfort him, support him, and help him along his journey. this person can be any gender, but must enjoy puns.

synopsis: basketcase was recruited into a gang of psychopaths not very long ago. her loyalties are scattered. she’s quite the thief, too. -- adult, homosexual.

GIRLFRIEND: this would be an incredibly toxic relationship. basketcase is likely to be abusive, always wanting her way, and incredibly jealous. a girlfriend who is either soft and submits or a girlfriend who is just as feisty are equally good options.

synopsis: bernard works at a smoothie stand. he’s trying to get his life together, but he finds it hard since he lets everyone walk over him all the time. he’s a huge sweetiepie. -- adult, pansexual.

CO-WORKER: this person is just someone who also works at the smoothie stand. they would spend a lot of time together and be buds outside of work. probably one of bee’s only friends.

CRUSH: bee isn’t very good with his words or feelings, despite having a lot of them. even if the crush is requited, which it doesn’t have to be, he would be very shy and also scared to ruin a friendship.

synopsis: blaine is a survivor of a zombie outbreak. he’s on the search for his last remaining family member: his younger brother. blaine may be unrelenting but he’s also not lost touch with his morals in this world. -- adult, pansexual.

FELLOW SURVIVOR: this person could be of any type of personality. just someone who would have his back, and he would have theirs. someone willing to entertain the idea that his brother is still alive, despite the odds.

synopsis: blaire is a college student. she lives in her own little apartment, and has a book published. she’s minorly famous, in fact. -- adult, homosexual.

LONG DISTANCE GIRLFRIEND: this girlfriend would be someone who loved to read, or at least was book - smart. this girl would be soon moving a cross country to move in with blaire at her apartment, too. a very serious, steady relationship.

synopsis: buddy is your average loser. likes games, being by himself, and oh yeah, is a well known streamer under an alias. for someone who is so shy and unspoken, he has an incredible streaming persona! -- teenager, pansexual.

BEST FRIEND: buddy has a lot of love to give. this person would have been his friend since kindergarten, very close pals. plays video games, goes for bike rides, the whole nine yards. 

synopsis: canston is a rich man, but a charitable one. he’s kind hearted, naive, and very forgiving.

SUGGESTIONS/IDEAS?

synopsis: castor dooms is a police officer. he’s always wanted to be. worked his butt off to get to this point in his life. he has a hard time juggling work and home, though. -- adult, heterosexual.

FIANCE: this woman would be the girl of his dreams. probably an introverted girl who likes to dance, makes good breakfast foods, and forces him to watch sappy movies. their relationship would go under many strains as castor tries to figure out how to balance work and home. could even be pregnant. 

CO - WORKER: this would be a fellow police officer he would be buddies with. probably his partner that he does paroles with. knows what kinda donuts they like, all the good cop stuff.

synopsis: collins is a librarian. he may be quiet, but he has a lot of attitude. and a lot of knowledge. he’s your book smart, sassy man. -- adult, homosexual.

SUGGESTIONS/IDEAS? 

synopsis: colton is a high school student. he loves the water, fishing, and especially boats. he even designs his own. he can be introverted. -- teenager, pansexual.

SUGGESTIONS/IDEAS?

synopsis: daniel is a high school student. he survived a jigsaw trap, and lost his father in a very short amount of time. he’s very touchy, incredibly unstable, and quite the mess. -- teenager, heterosexual.

CLOSE FRIEND: this person would’ve known daniel before the saw trap, and would maybe even have disdain for the daniel that came out. nevertheless, this person would be caring and try to spend a lot of time with him.

synopsis: deacon temple is a gym over. he’s a german meathead, very inspired to work out and be the best him. he has far too much energy and just assumes everyone else does, too. -- adult, pansexual.

WORK OUT PARTNER: this person would be a gym regular that deacon took a liking too. they can work out together, be close buddies, and maybe even have a romance.

LAZY PAL: this person would be a couch potato, and deacon is set in his way to try and fix this! he loves this person to death, maybe has known them for a long time, and wants to see them be a healthy, fit, gym loving person like he is.

synopsis: delilah is a runaway. she has escaped a town where her family is essentially the mafia there. she is a wanted woman, especially since her father has never stopped his pursuit for her. -- adult, pansexual.

SPY: this person would be sent from her father, and has found her. but as the movies go, the two have fallen for each other, and delilah is unaware why this person truly came into her life.

synopsis: denver is a divorced single parent who owns a bakery. much like that title, he’s a lot to handle. he’s rather emotional and caught up in his own world, despite how much he wants to be there for other people. -- adult, pansexual.

GIRLFRIEND: this person would have to love kids, and maybe have a few of her own. he would try too desperately to make things work, probably be incredibly clingy and overbearing. she may either love this or hate this,

synopsis: dixie is a famous streamer. she’s very goal oriented and at times self absorbed. she can be very loving, but does love her social media. -- adult, pansexual.

RIVAL: this person can be someone she hates, but keeps a good face on for the media. they do streams together, attend cons together, the whole thing. but they actually hate each other!

synopsis: elliot jordon is a survivor of a zombie outbreak. he’s a previous boyscout who has survived this long by tooth and nail. he’s a hardass and not a very nice boy anymore. -- teenager, pansexual.

SUGGESTIONS/IDEAS?

synopsis: grayson is the sheriff’s son. he’s in training to also be a police officer. he’s clumsy, too caring, and just an overall good guy. he doesn’t often see the bad in people. -- adult, pansexual.

SUGGESTIONS/IDEAS? 

synopsis: jessica is a high school student. she’s a dick. not very nice to anyone, really. that bitch. but she can be incredibly funny, throws good darts, and has a car, so you can say she’s well liked. -- teenager, heterosexual.

BOYFRIEND: this boy would probably be the stoner type. jess would probably like to keep him hidden, especially from her friendgroup. they probably wouldn’t often get a long, but when they do, it’s like fireworks!

synopsis: lynn denlon is a doctor. she survived a jigsaw trap but lost her entire family in the process. she still is in grief, and can’t seem to get over it. she struggles in everyday life. -- adult, heterosexual.

BOYFRIEND: this would be someone she probably met at the hospital. someone who likely has children, and is very emotionally strong. someone she feels like she can depend on.

synopsis: mitchell is a high school student. he lost all of his friends in a horrible, deemed freak, accident. he’s incredibly wounded, spends a lot of his time with music and alone . -- teenager, heterosexual.

CLOSE FRIEND: this person would be someone that maybe even knew his previous friend group well. someone who would try to help mitch recover, or at the very least, move on a little.

synopsis: riley is a ceo. she fought her way to the position for the recognition of her parents, but stayed for the money. she’s become a greedy woman ever since. -- adult, pansexual.

SUGAR BABY: this person would be someone in need of money, but with a lot of time on their hands. someone willing to do what riley says, and she’s quite a bossy lady, for some money.

synopsis: randy, rumble, boons is a famous race car driver. but he’s a hopeless romantic who wants to get married and have a domestic life. it’s a stark contrast, the two things, but he doesn’t mind. -- adult, pansexual.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: this person would be terrified of rumble’s career as a racecar driver. they would be in a long term, serious relationship. this would cause for a lot of bumps in the road.

synopsis: samuel beans is a high school student. he sells drugs on the side. he wears sunglasses indoors because he’s either high or has a bruise to wear from his father. he’s incredibly cocky, oftentimes rude. -- teenager, heterosexual.

SUGGESTIONS/IDEAS?

synopsis: sarah lost her parents when her younger brothers were only children. she had to assume the parenting role. this has shaped her into a responsible woman, but it keeps her wound rather tight. -- adult, pansexual.

BOYFRIEND: this boyfriend would oftentimes go neglected, since her brothers come first. this could be a challenge to overcome and cause for issues in the relationship. probably with someone shes known for a long time, so they have motivation to make it work.

synopsis: thomas bones is a single dad. he lost his first wife to disease, and has raised his son on his own. he’s very lost, confused, and in need of love and help at all times. -- adult, heterosexual.

GIRLFRIEND: this woman would have to like kids, or even better if she has some. someone who he can spend a lot of time with and doesn’t mind his quickness into a relationship.

synopsis: valerie is a high school student. she may be popular, but she isn’t well liked. probably because she’s a right bitch. -- teenager, heterosexual.

BFF: this person would probably also be a bitch. they can be bitches together, going to parties, sleep overs, and just trying to fuck up peoples lives.

FOLLOWER: this person would be new to school/a very soft, tiny individual. someone who is easily manipulated by val. a very toxic friendship.

[theculturedmarxist]

SEVERAL LEDES are buried within journalist Snigdha Poonam’s Dreamers: How Young Indians Are Changing the World. Three-quarters of the way through, she writes: “Rare exceptions aside, my wide-ranging forays into the madness of modern India boiled down to the same thing: the anxieties of young men who no longer know their place in the world. What they find hardest to deal with are women who do.”

The chapter in question, “The Angry Young Woman,” profiles Richa Singh (no relation), a young politician whose confidence and bravery led her to take on the hostile masculinity she found at Allahabad University, where she won an unprecedented victory. A woman had never dared run for president of the students’ union in the 127-year history of the campus. In Allahabad, men dominated all social spaces around town, from the tea shops to the campus facilities, and especially the ins and outs of politics. By winning the election, Singh temporarily changed everything.

But this chapter is the only one in which a woman is profiled. Throughout the rest of 280 pages, Poonam’s intrepid reportage comes from the depths of young male rage and desperation, where everyone seems determined to out-scam everyone else on multiple levels. Stemming from a “whatever works,” “do-or-die” attitude, the men Poonam profiles will stop at nothing to get ahead, no matter who they have to cheat along the way. The title, Dreamers, is deceiving in its optimism because not much of anything hopeful appears in this book.

Right now, over half of India’s population, perhaps 600 million people, are under the age of 25, making them the largest number of young people for any country on earth. This generation’s male population, Poonam writes, are the most desperate since India’s independence. Every month, one million Indian youths enter the workforce, yet only 10,000 of them get jobs — a staggering statistic. The rest feel left behind and abandoned by their own country, so they turn to scams and violence to make money.

As a result, the men Poonam writes about are not driven by morality, but by how fast can they achieve money and fame. Their ability to flip between right and wrong depends only on what they stand to win or lose. Anxious about their future, these men feel they must succeed now or else risk being left behind. Since India’s infrastructure still operates on a foundation of bribery, scams, and corruption from bottom to top — so much, that corruption is often viewed as a virtue — this generation of young Indian men, Poonam writes, will cheat their way to their dreams because it’s all they ever see from politicians, businessmen, and celebrities. If these young men don’t embark on such an ideology right now, they will lose their shot at world domination.

“No matter how poorly placed they find themselves now, they make up the world’s largest ever cohort of like-minded young people, and they see absolutely no reason why the world shouldn’t run by their rules,” Poonam writes.

The consequences for the rest of us, inside and outside of India, of young India’s determination, won’t just be economic. The idea that only they can help themselves will lead this generation of Indians to redefine everything according to their perspective: work, success, morality. It will change our world in ways we can’t yet imagine.

The whole book provides explicit examples of this. In one chapter, Poonam brings us deep inside elaborate call center scams where hierarchies of young men are bilking American seniors out of their pensions with the nonchalance of a lazy afterschool project. In another chapter, various men known as “fixers” operate in rural slums, scamming residents for services they can often get for free. We also meet “talent management” companies ruthlessly exploiting wannabe superstars longing for Bollywood-style fame. These young men, often frustrated or rejected, are desperate for notoriety, only to end up with their aspirations destroyed.

She also investigates dubious English-language instruction centers exploiting the beliefs of young people who think that learning even mangled English will convert them from “losers” into “winners” and help them manufacture a global identity. This dovetails with people wanting to learn just enough cut-price English to get jobs writing punchy, obnoxious content for clickbait websites — exactly what happens in many scenarios.

“The version of English they speak — with colleagues, waiters, customer care executives — will define the future of the language in this country, and, in fact, the future of English worldwide,” Poonam writes. “With India expected to have the largest number of English speakers in the world in the next ten years — overtaking the U.S. — the English they speak will be the English of the future.”

If millions of young Indians are learning whichever bare-bones flavor of English facilitates their ability to scam people and elevate themselves in the corruption hierarchy, then it will have dramatic effects on international business, politics, and entertainment. Such gloomy observations appear all throughout the book.

In each case, the level of fraud and corruption does not unfold in just one direction. Those being supervised in how to perpetrate the scams are often simultaneously scamming their bosses, or even hiring middlemen they can exploit in the process. After someone works long enough in a fraudulent call center operation — whether it’s in tech support, insurance, banking, or travel — he might then quit to start up his own fraudulent call center. After spending a few years with such people, Poonam discovered that the scam soldiers were taking over the scams. Once they learned the tricks of the trade, they gave up on the long hours and started their own operation.

“What did you need to run a tech support scam?” Poonam writes. “A team of five, a rented room, computers, mobile phones, a stash of software, a pop-up vendor, and a friend in the U.S. or U.K. to lend you their bank account.”

The tech-support scammers run the whole operation on Facebook, using pop-up boxes to remotely take over someone’s computer and eventually scam gullible American seniors out of millions. Every petty scammer is now a mastermind on his way to an imagined lifestyle of parties, beautiful girls, and fast cars — things he never had before.

Poonam’s investigations also take her into the dark underworld of mob violence. In the most disturbing chapter among many, she embeds herself with the gau rakshaks, vigilante cow-protection armies, whose logo is a gilded torso of a cow flanked by a pair of swords and AK-47s. Commanders are elected, foot soldiers are chosen, and the groups operate as organized fundamentalist Hindu mobs of angry young men targeting anyone, but especially Muslims and Dalits, who might be smuggling cattle somewhere. Out of social isolation, anxiety, sexual rejection, and the “restless anger of a budding dictator,” the gau rakshaks Poonam investigates all seem frightened by the prospect of a global secular society diminishing their religiosity. They respond by finding solace in the power of violence.

As if that wasn’t enough, Poonam also explores grotesque “anti-Valentine’s Day jihads,” where any violent young man might tie an iron bar to the back of his motorcycle for the purpose of swinging it at couples on Valentine’s Day — all just to injure happy lovers for no other reason. Single, broke, and doubtful that he will ever find a job or a woman that likes him, the type of man who does this, Poonam writes, is

what think pieces explaining the Trump and Brexit verdicts term a loser of globalization, one of the millions of leftover youths whose anger is transforming world politics. […] On an elemental level, he doesn’t know if he matters to the world. There’s only one way left for him to make that happen: punish everyone who’s moved ahead of him in that queue. This is what he thinks politics is about.

Which is obviously why Poonam elevates the female politician Richa Singh above the toxic stew depicted in the rest of the book. Poonam describes Singh as someone inspired by true change, someone who can actually call herself a politician. In a landmark series of events, Singh united minority factions and won an election at Allahabad University. She even sat in on a hunger strike to block the right-wing Hindu nationalist preacher Yogi Adityanath from appearing on campus, which later became pointless since he wound up as the chief minister of Uttar Pradesh anyway.

At times, though, Poonam doesn’t shy away from taking sides, admitting that she was rooting for Singh, “in guilt and in bewilderment.” In one of several confessional passages, Poonam feels a connection with Singh’s causes, but says she doesn’t have Singh’s guts or idealism.

“Singh’s fight against caste, communalism and patriarchy — what she called ‘muscle power’ — voiced most of my issues with the country’s politics,” Poonam writes. “I was drawn to stories of women putting up a fight; reporting and writing about their fight was almost a compensation for not participating in it.”

With the understanding that Dreamers only represents a tiny sample base, the book does not leave any sense of optimism in the reader. Even though Poonam dangles a few threads of hope near the end — Richa Singh’s success is now inspiring more women to enter university politics — one doesn’t come away feeling that anything good can possibly come from the exploits of millions of young men defrauding their fellow humans. The book functions like a damning, almost apocalyptic forewarning.

Whatever does become of half a billion young Indians will have a dramatic effect on the rest of the world, Poonam writes. For example, in the United States and Europe, many people are just becoming aware of Facebook’s and Twitter’s role in the spreading of hatred, misogyny, and religious intolerance. In India, those scenarios are amplified by multiple degrees, and by millions upon millions of perpetrators who want in on the action. The damage caused by troll armies, endless harassment, abuse, and fake stories are far beyond their counterparts in the West, as are millions of Indian twentysomethings pooling their resources to operate call center scams and professional fraud networks on Facebook.

For these men, if their only ideology in life is to cheat their way to the top — “whatever works” — then the planet needs to pay serious attention, Poonam warns. Americans or anyone in the West who thinks they needn’t keep tabs on the rest of the world are in for a dire awakening.

[tedious-argument]

Attempt

Apparently journaling is meant to be good for working through low self-esteem. I doubt I’ll manage to do this with any consistent frequency at all, but maybe it’s worth a shot to have some outlet somewhere.

I don’t like myself. I really struggle to see the value of myself at all, and I compare myself very negatively to others. Here are some things I think about myself:

I’m ugly. I have an especially ugly face, with a big nose, thin lips, bad smile. It is naturally ugly and I will never wake up looking even passably nice. My body is ugly. My arms are fat, my thighs are fat. Even when I’m at my fittest, I just look thick or masculine. My boobs are saggy. 

I’m stupid. I have terrible memory. I can’t grasp difficult concepts. I can’t do maths. I’m too stupid for science. I can’t learn new skills. 

I’m lazy. I’m undisciplined. I don’t stick with things. I give up too easily. I’m inherently a pathetic loser. I have no talents or skills. I waste other people’s time. I eat too much.

I’m unnecessary & unneeded. My job is pointless. I add no value to the world. I protect nobody. Nobody relies on me. I have almost no responsibilities. I therefore gain no respect. I occupy space and take up resources. I am a drain on the planet. I give nothing back. 

I’m nasty and think toxic thoughts about others. I’m worse than other people. I take out my anger and sadness on the people who most deserve my love and support. I’m a bad partner and a bad friend. 

I’m emotional, illogical, jealous, neurotic, anxious. I’m self-absorbed, narcissistic, childish. My empathy is completely overwhelmed by self-pity.

I am entirely average. I’m not special. I just happen to be this consciousness stuck in this body and living this life. There is no reason for anyone to pity me or hate me or love me or pay me any attention at all. If I suffer, it’s nothing compared to others. If I succeed, it’s nothing compared to others. I know I deserve nothing. I’m afraid of being alone among so many.

[radioactivesoda-gw2]

☠ (That Darn) Zarrn / Reaper ☠

Posts with Zarrn

◦ Edgy and unpredictable ◦ Inexplicably survives on sporadic snacking ◦ Prankster ◦ "Choke me and hit me with your car” ◦ Glutton for punishment

🔍 Overview 🔎

Full Name: Zarrn

Pronunciation: ZAR-NN

Nickname(s): That darn Zarrn

Preferred Name: Zarrn, but is greatly amused by others calling him “that darn Zarrn”

Age: Young Adult, somewhere between 22-25 years of age

Sexuality: Pansexual Sado/Masochist

Pronouns: He/him

Height: Shorter than average for an Asura

Weight/Build: Skinny string-bean

Scars/Birthmarks/Distinguishing Markings: Red tattoo around his eyes as well as around his belly button

🗣️ Personality & Morals ⚖️

Are they…(bold which term applies to the character):

introvert / extrovert / ambivert risk-taker / cautious organized / disorganized close-minded / open-minded calm / anxious / restless disagreeable / agreeable / in-between patient / impatient outspoken / reserved leader / follower / flexible (not really either as he’d rather not interact with people at all) empathetic / un-empathetic optimistic / pessimistic / realistic traditional / modern / in-between hard-working / lazy

Moral alignment (chaotic good, lawful neutral, etc): Chaotic neutral

Guilty Pleasure(s): Pranking, masochism

👍 Strengths & Weaknesses 👎

Strengths/Skills (Mental/Physical): Skilled at necromancy, remarkable intelligence when it comes to making traps/pranks/schemes, impeccable aim and luck

Weaknesses (Mental/Physical): Nothing but skin and bones, cowardly when presented with actual threats, can be too cocky, sore loser

Biggest Advantage: Trickery

Biggest Vulnerability: Weak and out-of-shape, his bones would probably break if he tried to punch someone

Mental Ailments: Antisocial Personality Disorder

Physical Ailments: Generally out-of-shape

Addictions/Bad Habits: Addicted to pain

Phobias: Being out-smarted

🏠 Lifestyle 🏠

Birthplace: TBD

Current Residence: He has two locations where he lives in Metrica Province and Rata Sum, both are abandoned run-down areas off the beaten path where he just started living/sleeping and keeping objects 

Education: Flunked out of college, self-taught

Religion: If asked he’d say “The Eternal Alchemy probably exists or something but I have no idea and I don’t really care”

Philosophy/Outlook on Life: He has a very lethargic outlook on both life and people. He doesn’t care much about anything, and his only real goal in life is to pester people who are either assholes or too uptight, and “affectionately” pester “friends”

Job: Self-employed vigilante prankster

Hobbies: Pranking

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 Relationships 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

Status (Single/Dating…/Married to…): Single, but has a lot of FWB

Family: His parents were a sort of Bonnie and Clyde duo in their adolescence, but instead of taking lives they were playing pranks, causing trouble wherever they went just for the thrill, never causing any life-threatening danger. After having Zarrn and his sister Zonnja they became less active in their pranks, not wanting to endanger their kids, but they let him join in on the trouble making sometimes. These days his folks are still mischievous and play pranks on peers, but they're more agreeable and more people seek them out for their intellectual abilities. Zarrn has a good relationship with his folks, and they frequently plan pranks on each other. He learned most of what he knows about scheming/pranking/trap-making from them, although while his parents became agreeable enough to work with people and benefit them, Zarrn remains very troublesome to work with and much less helpful. His sister is the complete opposite to her prankster family members, and wishes they’d all have better manners. She and Zarrn butt heads a lot, Zonnja is often embarrassed by Zarrn, and he often pesters her—but despite this they do care about each other, and anyone who makes Zonnja cry is in for some severe prankage.

Friends: Given his personality he...doesn’t have a lot, but he prefers it this way

Enemies: Numerous...Zarrn himself doesn’t perceive a lot of people as “enemies” but there are a lot of victims of his pranks that consider him one. Although Crystal comes really close to being labeled an “enemy” by Zarrn since she never falls for his pranks.

Other notable relationships (If any): N/A

📚 Backstory 📚

Childhood: Zarrn showed great potential for necromancy at a young age, picking up the concepts with ease. With his parents’ help he was able to develop necromantic skills quickly—and he would use these skills to prank his peers even at a young age. His parents pulled pranks on him too, they were always fun innocent pranks, and this became a regular family practice—with the exception of Zarrn’s sister Zonnja, who would cry at any prank no matter how innocent, so pranking her became off-limits.

Adolescence: Zarrn continued to be a trouble-maker to a point even his impish parents began to feel like he needed to dial it back. Through some correction and some pranks gone terribly wrong Zarrn learned to manage his pranks and who he pranks better, though he’s still more devious than his parents.

Young Adulthood: Zarrn attempted college, and hated it. He spent most of his time toying with his peers, in particular the hoity-toity ones, and eventually flunked out completely, not that he cared. He found an abandoned run-down lab in Metrica Province and started hanging out there all the time—eventually collecting furniture and various knick-knacks and keeping them there. He also found a secret literal hole-in-the-wall in Rata Sum that he moved into as a secondary living location.

Adulthood: TBD

Present Day: Zarrn mainly hangs around Asuran-populated areas such as Metrica Province and Rata Sum, pranking who he can. His most-likely victims are Asura who seem the most up-tight or egocentric, as they have the most entertaining reactions, other than that he most frequently pranks peers and friends. He will mess with other races too because he's amused by the variety in how they react to pranks, but Asura are his most common victims due to how offended they become. But it is worth noting if someone shows great pain/hurt from pranks he’s pulled he’ll feel guilty. In most cases he will find some low-key method to apologize/make it up to them, with minimal interaction with said person as he already hates interacting with others, much less others he feels guilt towards. The person may never even know they’ve received an attempted apology from Zarrn, such as an unmarked package or unnamed letter saying the writer is “sorry to hear about what happened” and “whoever did that must be a dumbass.”

[anxiousnebula-blog]

Get to Know Me Tag

I was tagged by @a-blog-of-hamilton-and-writing and @turtlegirl2016 which is great bc I’ve been wanted to do this oops

Star sign: Leo

Height: 4′9″

Time Right Now: 9:45 AM

Favorite Musician: I’m really into Halsey and Melanie Martinez currently.

Last show I watched: Scandal I think, or Hell’s Kitchen 

What I’m wearing right now: A lot cut gray t-shirt and shorts bc I’m lazy.

When did I create this blog: Not sure, earlier this year or within the last week of 2016 I think?

What do I post about: Conviction, Politics, Hamilton, and other stuff.

Do I have any other blogs: I have a lot but they’re all secret accounts that no one will ever know about

Do I regularly get asks: The only time I get asks is when I get called a loser (LOOKING @ U ERIK)

Why did I choose my URL: I’m rlly anxious and I like stars.

Pokemon Team: teaM ROCKET. I’m kidding, Team Valor.

Favorite Color: Mint Green!!

Average Hours of sleep: like 9? recently its been about 9 but sometimes it’s like 1-5

Dream Job: So many? I want to do something I love, but also I want to make a difference. My dream job would probably be either on broadway, in movies, or in the reigns of government. Maybe a lawyer? I’m not sure, I just know I want to make a mark on history.

I tag: anyone who wants to do it? I dunno I don’t want to bother anyone

[baddestseahorse]

Can my first post be a rant? Fuck it, it’s kind of a rant.

So here’s the thing... The past year or so, maybe two, I’ve come to learn quite a lot about myself. I suppose many of us feel the same after significant events, tough times, and some reflection. I should add that I have always been learning oodles of things along the way, breakthroughs here and there, but this most recent set of events, it’s significant - but I’ll come to that later. 

The thing about all this learning though? It’s very important what you do with that information. Knowledge is power! I don’t think I’ll ever try to stop learning about myself. I do love to learn other things as well, however this self-discovery of (continuously) figuring out how my brain works, what I need, what tendencies I may have, etc. - it’s all led (and still leading) me to become a better, healthier, and happier human: Keanu Reeves. Just kidding, but I do want to continue to become a better version of myself. That shouldn’t be that hard, right? You’d be surprised. 

My whole life has felt like I’ve been struggling along, trying to keep up, catch up, trying to get by and make it through the day. Not to say I haven’t had happy times in my life, but this shit is tiring. Truly I thought I was just a loser who didn’t try hard enough - that’s what everyone told me so it must be true right? Study more, pay more attention, don’t be so lazy, try harder, eat all your food or your cousin won’t play with you, concentrate more, why can’t you be more like so-and-so? I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m not like so-and-so for a long ass time now, but thanks (and btw, so-and-so ain’t all that great either). 

So fast forward to years of struggling, awkward parent-teacher interviews where they ask me What’s wrong with you??? I’m 11, how the fuck am I supposed to know? Hundreds of late attendances, skipped classes, calling in sick to work (interestingly never called in sick to work for ages until last year), no motivation. Still didn’t figure out how to be like so-and-so, guys. What did I do? I made some awesome friends... turns out they too were struggling. 

Once they opened up, I had come to realise it was more than that. We were not struggling. We were suffering. I was suffering. The whole fucking time. Things started clicking in the back of my mind. Memories came flooding back. The entire time everyone was asking what’s wrong with me and all I could do was give them a shy little “I don’t know.” Or make something up because I had no idea what the hell else to say - I had been suffering from depression and (social) anxiety, and I had no idea. 

But I was a bit more grown, things were working out for the better, I had figured out how to manage things enough to get by, although not the mot healthy way, but hey, it was all self-taught. Besides, it wasn’t that bad, my friends’ mental health and anxiety attacks were far worse, and I made it this far, I had friends and held down some relationships, right? ... right? No big deal.

Hah. Big Deal. 

Fall 2017 I had been promoted (see, I was doing okay!). Sure the job I had been doing was hectic as hell and it was incredibly draining so much so that I didn’t want to speak to people or hear noises or see friends after. But this new job, it’s meant to be better. And it was... to a point. That point was our busy season + our micro-managing director of operations about to sell the business + my mental health. 

If there is any take-away from this, this is #1: DO NOT SACRIFICE YOUR HEALTH AND WELL BEING FOR A JOB THAT WOULD REPLACE YOU IN 2 WEEKS.

No, I didn’t get fired or anything, but I made a stupid sacrifice for downplaying how I felt. I worked such long hours, was overwhelmed, my coworkers were overwhelmed, it’s too late to hire and train anyone new anyway so I suffered, All I thought about was work. I was stressed and anxious 24/7, my entire body was tense and in pain all the time, I was SO tired, I barely saw my friends or family, all I wanted was to be alone for a while, but I couldn’t do that because Did I remember to add this to that file? Oh man this client’s been waiting on this for weeks. Shit did I reply to that email? I need to do that first thing tomorrow. It was constant from the moment I woke up to the moment I eventually fell asleep... if I could sleep. Did I mention I also have insomnia now? This went on for weeks, Christmas break was barely a break. Only getting Christmas day and Boxing Day off, I was barely off - my brain was at work. I don’t even remember how I managed to get anyone gifts. It was horrible. 

Early January, I got a cold, as you do in Canada. But also as you’re far more prone to getting not sleeping, being under stress, and not resting. I couldn’t call in sick, I had to work through it right? Then I’d be letting my coworkers down, they were getting work piled on them too, that’s not fair. So I went to work, and my cold never went away... for weeks. I couldn’t stop coughing and eventually I had some shortness of breath. Then some turned into a lot. A lot turned into I can’t talk for more than a minute or walk down the hall without being winded like I ran a marathon and my heart is beating so hard it’s about to join a marching band. I needed to see my doctor. Still trying to keep up with work, I made an appointment outside of work hours (I managed to not stay late, miracle!). After many back and forths to my doctor’s office, chest x-ray, blood work, even a heart ultrasound. Everything was clear... except my head. I burst into tears in my doctors office. She was always digging deeper, she confirmed what I was experiencing was all anxiety. I tried to cut back at work but it didn’t stop. It made me feel worse about myself. I broke down all the time. Eventually my doctor said enough is enough and I didn’t return to work for 5 weeks. 

At this point I couldn’t do much without thinking my legs were going to give out or I would pass out. So I was forced to do nothing and work was forced to stick it. I had 5 weeks to try to rest and get better. I started reading a book to help me learn about anxiety and and I signed up for some virtual counselling. It was rough, but finally after 3 weeks, I began to feel a little lighter, a little more energy and towards the end of the 4th week I started to feel more like myself and got to enjoy those last few days off. When I had returned, I came back to some major changes, hoping that it was for the better. It wasn’t, the environment was toxic for me and I knew I had to get out. After months and months of applications, I finally got a better job and WOW the difference is surreal.I’m much happier and have a FAR better work/life balance. I didn’t even realize how bad it was until I took myself out of there and found a healthier environment. I had gotten so used to feeling so terrible that I thought it was normal. 

 I continued therapy after I returned to work. Although it was expensive, I’m glad I did. A little hint from my therapist helped me learn that I also have ADD. ADD/ADHD gets a bad rap for being over-diagnosed to calm high energy kids down. After lots and lots of reading, it only made more sense. I have ADD.

Do you even know how many more light bulbs turned on, how many things clicked?!?!?!?!? I was blown away. And super super super sad that all this had gone on and no one really tried to help me. Not that anyone owes me anything, but when I was younger, my parents, teachers, etc. Maybe due to ignorance, mental health stigma, maybe because I was smart so I couldn’t have anything really wrong with me, lack of education on how to recognise these things. I’ll be okay. But my heart hurts for those who have no idea why the fuck their lives keep falling apart. The kids who don’t know what’s wrong with them. The kids who know but things, money, people stop them from getting the help/treatment/medication/shoulder that they need. The adults who have so much potential and still have no idea and things just won’t come together and they think it’s all their own fault. For all the assholes who ask why they can’t just get their shit together - they had it together but 49736584275642 things came up and they forgot about it for a while.

It’s really hard fighting your own brain. So yeah, I won’t ever stop trying to learn about myself. I want to work with my brain, be happier, healthier, and an overall better person for myself, and those around me. 

This blog is about it be that journey. I have lots of goals to crush this year and I need to make it happen!

Wish me luck!

[pippypeppypickmeup-blog]

Dear Polly excerpt: I’m a pathetic loser who can’t stop procrastinating.

Hi Polly,

I started writing you this letter, then thought, I’ll work on this some more tomorrow, and almost closed the email draft. Realizing the irony of that, I forced myself to plow through this letter in one sitting, knowing that if I didn’t finish it now, I never would.

I am an unemployed college dropout living with my boyfriend’s parents, and I can’t get my act together. My family back home is ashamed of me, but they still believe in me and are trying to help me. I wish they would just give up on me so that I don’t end up disappointing them again. I can’t accomplish anything, and I am living a parasitic existence, leeching off my partner’s family. When I was in college, I approached every new assignment with the complete and sincere intention to start early and make incremental progress so that I wouldn’t have to do it all at the last minute (again), but I would be filled with anxiety and confusion about how to go about accomplishing it and would procrastinate with mind-numbing distractions. Sophomore year, I finally “broke” and became unable to finish assignments even in the face of deadlines. I would skip classes just to lie in bed staring at the ceiling and hating myself. I went to counseling services and academic tutors but gave up when I didn’t get immediate results. I cried in professors’ office hours, begged for extensions, and even got the school to let me have the summer to finish my coursework with no negative impact to my GPA. Despite this generous policy, I still ended up failing three of the four classes and getting put on academic probation. As a result, my parents rescinded their offer to pay my tuition, and I decided to drop out rather than to try to pay $30,000 a semester, knowing that I most likely wouldn’t graduate in four years.

I have some talents and skills that could potentially be valuable, and I am only 20 years old, so I still have plenty of opportunities to get my life back in order, if I could just get off my ass for two seconds and pursue them. However, my lack of self-discipline is keeping me from accomplishing anything meaningful in my life. I used to have many creative hobbies and was a good student, but now I just spend my days wasting time on the internet, sleeping to procrastinate, wallowing in self-pity, and ingratiating myself on anyone sympathetic enough to listen to my whining. I keep wishing that someone else would take control of my life and “save me” from the problems that I created. Every time I try to apply for jobs or do something productive, I quickly become discouraged because it’s “hard” and “doesn’t feel good” to my stupid monkey brain that only cares about comfort and instant gratification. I can do simple household tasks such as cooking or laundry, but as soon as a goal becomes bigger and more amorphous, I become paralyzed and can’t move forward. I have tried breaking up my goals into smaller steps and setting up a timetable for when I want to complete what, but as soon as I get to work, I become overwhelmed by all the factors and complications that go into accomplishing the task and start ruminating on whether I divided it up in the wrong way.

I feel stupid, weak-willed, useless, and pathetic, and wonder if this is going to be the rest of my life. I naturally have low energy levels and am bad at taking action. I’ve given up on my hopes and ambitions and no longer want anything from life. My friends, partner, and my partner’s family have been very affirming to me and have reassured me that I am acceptable to them as I am now, but there is no way I can be acceptable to myself when I can’t even do anything (and I feel like I must have tricked them into thinking that I’m an okay person). How do I get over my chronic procrastination problem and actually become the person I want to be?

Pathetic Loser

Dear Depressed Person,

You’re not a pathetic loser. You’re a depressed, anxious person. But every time you feel depressed or anxious (or sad or angry or annoyed or tired) you tell yourself that you’re screwing everything up again, like the screwup that you are. “Why can’t you be like other, normal people?” you ask yourself. “Why can’t you charge ahead and make things happen? Why don’t you want anything anymore?”

The answer is that you’re severely depressed. When you’re depressed, you don’t want things. When you’re depressed, you can’t even consider big goals, let alone make progress toward them. You’re running scared all the time, from everything, so even thinking about a big goal is frightening. That’s not your fault. Your “stupid monkey brain” only cares about comfort and instant gratification because right now, those are the only things that make you feel better.

Plenty of other people are like you. You’re not alone. But you need to talk to a therapist and sort out what’s going on with you. Because you’re in a situation that’s making everything worse: Your life has no structure. You have support, but you don’t trust it. You don’t believe that anyone could love you the way you are right now. That’s your depression talking, too. But maybe part of you wants your boyfriend and his family to realize that you’re not doing fine like they say. It’s great that they’re so understanding and helpful, but they might be in denial about how bad things have gotten for you. You also feel the weight of your own family’s disappointment, so much so that you want them to “just give up” on you, releasing you from the enormous guilt you have about dropping out of school.

I would guess that you were taught, like so many of us, to suppress most of your so-called negative emotions and play up your positive emotions. You were cheerful, you handled your assignments, and when anything “negative” like worries or sadness or fear came up, you stuffed those feelings under your bed and moved forward. You were rewarded for doing this. You were successful! You were cheerful and responsible and kind!

Meanwhile, under the bed, a pile of worries and fears were growing. Eventually, they filled your whole room. But for a while, even that felt doable: You kept moving. “IT’S FINE!” you told people, so you wouldn’t look hesitant or insecure. You were good at seeming good. You never stopped to look at what was piling up around you, because looking for even a second would make you feel sad, and sadness was not allowed.

Slowly, though, it became harder to get things done, making it harder to smile or laugh, making it harder to breathe. And at the exact point when life got really, really hard, and you had to rally, and you had to get out the door and do some work, it felt completely impossible. You just … couldn’t.

Now you can’t move forward because your body and mind are telling you that they’re tired of obeying your orders and doing what you tell them to do. Your body and your mind miss being relaxed and optimistic, the way you were back when you could feel ALL of your emotions — the anger, the sadness, and also the joy. When someone tells you, over and over again, that you’re not allowed to be sad or angry, the joy goes away, too. Life becomes all work and no play.

It’s natural that your body and mind would rebel against that state of affairs. Your body says, “This is bullshit, I want to play!” Your mind says, “I’m tired of holding back your fears and worries. I want to relax and think about good things!” They refuse to work. You can’t focus. They just want a fix — something distracting, something relaxing, something tasty, something fun. You tell yourself this makes you lazy, but you’re the opposite of lazy. You’re constantly in hell — anxious, unhappy, your mind spinning in circles, your body feeling ill. It’s not your fault that your body and mind want a break wherever they can find it. They’ve been tortured for too long.

And your current depressed state might not be entirely determined by the messages you received when you were small about how to act and how to be. You might also be battling some chemical depression and anxiety. So even when things seem fine to everyone else, you feel terrible. This is true for me. Basically, if I don’t exercise almost every day, I feel worse and worse. I have trouble wanting things. As long as I can exercise, though, I’m pretty happy and ambitious. But if I ever found myself in a position where I couldn’t exercise, I might have to take psychotropic drugs in order to face the world without a lot of fear and heaviness and dread.

That’s not my fault. It’s just how I’m built. Even when I was a teenager, I experienced myself as having very little energy. And some people exercise constantly and they’re still unhappy. That’s not their fault, either. Some people try drugs and they don’t work, or they stop working at some point, so they have to try something else. The words “pathetic” and “loser” have nothing to do with any of that. Even when I’m exercising all the time, I go through periods when I’m struggling. Sometimes I feel like I have to reinvent the wheel every few days. I like solving problems, and writing about them, and I try to remember that it’s part of why I do what I do and also why I write in general. But it can be bewildering.

The most important thing I’ve learned, that I want you to learn, is that I’m built this way. I’m not a weak or shitty person. I don’t have a bad attitude. I just have this body and this mind. I have to work with what I have. I have to do the best I can with what I have.

So scrape those words — pathetic and loser — out of your brain permanently. You have a lot of shame around being who you are, which is normal, honestly — I do, too — but you have to start to notice how much your shame paralyzes you in concert with your already very low, depressed state. You have to look straight at the major hurdles in front of you and stop blaming yourself for their existence.

Your boyfriend and his family and your friends and family need to recognize that everything feels terrible for you right now. They can’t keep saying, “Everything is fine! You’re fine, you’re great!” straight to your face. They need to hear, directly from you, the words, “I am not doing well. I feel depressed. I don’t want anything. I need help.”

You need to ask your boyfriend and his family and your friends and your family for help.

I know that it’s going to be very, very hard for you to do this, because you’re already blaming yourself for everything. You blame yourself for everything because YOU’RE A RESPONSIBLE PERSON WHO IS DEPRESSED. Everything in your letter reaffirms that fact. You are accustomed to doing the work you need to do. You’ve fallen off track because your depression and anxiety are growing, but you’re blaming yourself for it instead of looking for outside help.

You say that you looked for help before but gave up when you didn’t see immediate results. That’s a common experience among responsible people who are accustomed to charging forward, tackling their problems, and being rewarded for it immediately. But therapy and self-awareness and the battle against shame don’t work that way. At first, everything looks grim. As you start to recognize how deep the damage goes, it can be absurdly overwhelming, particularly when you have a lifelong habit of avoiding big, heavy questions and dark emotions. I just want you to understand that if you can find a therapist who you trust and be patient with the process of treatment, the rewards of that process might outreach any immediate goals you have in mind now. Your whole relationship to yourself, the way you treat yourself, the satisfaction you find in hard work, the ways you notice when you’re hurting yourself — these are all fundamental dimensions of your life that will shift dramatically with good treatment. The point is to learn to feel your emotions again, without fear, so you can enjoy your days instead of freaking out about screwing up all the time.

You can’t really ask yourself to work hard right now because your story is that your depression is your fault and dropping out is your fault and anything you do from this point forward will still be a total failure and a sad compromise. You have to get help and feel better and tell a new story FIRST in order to finally stop avoiding the hard things in your life.

I don’t think that it’s any coincidence that now that you’re living with your boyfriend’s family, you’re struggling more than ever. I do very badly when I’m in circumstances where I’m not charging forward, where I feel like I’m leaning on other people for help. It’s sort of ironic, really, because looking for help from others without anger and fear was one of the hardest things for me to do. And even when I get help, that doesn’t change the fact that I need to feel capable and productive in order to feel good. I can slow down and give myself a rest, but there are limits to how much I can thrive when I’m not creating something that feels worthwhile.

I can’t tell you enough times how hard it is to be where you are right now. A life without structure, leaning on someone else’s family while very depressed and very anxious? I need for you to hear me when I say this to you: You are in a very difficult place and it’s not your fault. You need help.

Enlist your boyfriend and/or his family in this fight. You’ve got to look for a sliding-scale therapist or free clinic so you can sort through what’s happening to you and try to get some help in treating your depression and anxiety. Once you start to feel a little bit more human, once you start to want things a little bit more, believe me, procrastination won’t be an issue. Procrastination is a symptom of your depression, not a cause. The cause is much more complex and probably includes an interplay of biology, chemistry, upbringing, and current circumstances.

I know it’s hard, so hard. I remember how I used to feel: like nothing was worth doing, like nothing mattered or added up, and worst of all, I truly believed that my own inertia and bad attitude were to blame. My depression prevented me from looking back at the many, many times in my life I’d overcome inertia and had a great attitude. I want you to do that now. I want you to look back at your true, real self, hiding in the past, the one who was industrious, who had good intentions, who powered through the hard times. That girl is still here, still working really hard, but you can’t see her anymore. She’s waiting for you to acknowledge her. She wants you to feel joy again. She wants you to see her clearly for once. She wants you to see how hard she tries.

Can you see how hard she’s been trying? Have some empathy for this hardworking, overwhelmed, scared girl. She’s not a pathetic loser. She’s just a person who needs help. Help her. Forgive her. Give her your love.

[booksbroadwaybbc]

Hit an all time low, young and need help, I want to change. via /r/selfimprovement

Hit an all time low, young and need help, I want to change.

No sugar coating, I am saying how it is. I am coming clean. My life is completely messed up and it's all because of me. If the rest of this sounds absurd, I'm so sorry.

LONG EMOTIONAL RANT DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED. Skip to end for questions.

Long story short, I am a bad kid. I do bad things. I am a 16 year old girl. I had a privileged upbringing. I live in a good area, my parents were able to afford extra curriculars etc... Totally set up for success. What could go wrong, right? I'll tell you what went wrong. I am a waste. I wish someone else was born in my place. You know what I did to my parents? You know what I did? Confession time. I smoked weed, binge drank till I threw up (in public too, I'm horrible), bought a bunch of things on ebay with my father's paypal in ninth grade w/o premission (was cheap stuff, but still), I skip school because I feel like ass, I got kicked out the IB program I got into and NOW I am in an alternative school for degenerates. My family hates me, I don't have any friends. I am a mess because of the choices I made. Yeah I am anxious and depressed, but that's because of MY CHOICES LMFAOOO I AM A WASTE. I AM A WASTE. I AM WASTED INTELLIGENCE. I AM WASTED TALENT HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA NOBODY CARES ABOUT ME. Another thing I do is push people away. I'm great at that. Especially to guys who take interest in me! They can show me so much love and affection and upon contact I immediately go cold. I play games with them unintentionally, I just feel like S H I T all the time so I ignore any out reaching hands, whether they have romantic interests or not. Because I am an I N S E C U R E shitbag :) I barely talk, I barely reciproate to people's efforts, and then I feel empty and emotionless. LOLOLOL I do this to myself. I used to blame my parents and my upbringing, but I realized I am just a self centered, insecure b*tch. I don't do anything for anyone, I am lazy, I am a liar. I violate every commandment in the bible except for having sex before marriage ( I will never be promiscuous, I hate intimacy, I don't get attached at all). I am a TRUE DEVIL, my mother was right. My parents have 100% authority and right to insult me! Call me pothead, loser, failure, they have a right to tell me to become a prostitute! Even though I've never kissed a boy, it's JUSTIFIED! You know why? YOU KNOW WHY? Because I am a loser, an IB program dropout, a fat loser. I used to be anorexic, back when I could control myself and my life. But now I AM, haha don't laugh, but I am 25 pounds OVERWEIGHT! HAHAHA you know what's even funnier?! I stopped EXERCISING! I used to be an amazing track and xc runner, but haha idk one day I just let laziness get the best of me, because I am a f**king good for nothing and it just snowballed outta control. Enough excuses, I am trying to manipulate the audience (fellow redditors) for sympathy, as my mother would say. In reality, nobody cares about each other. Reading this is probably like a doctor Phil show for you, this is probably entertaining, and I can understand, it's a fucking societal-reject ranting on an online platform. I wouldn't personally laugh, I'd be sympathetic, but people are HEARTLESS LMAOOOO NOBODY CARES EVEN IF THEY SAY THEY DO. I am such a bad kid my therapist (who I don't see anymore) told my mom (according to her, and parents never lie so I am assuming this is viable) that she agrees I am highly manipulative. I am just crazy. I feel like crazy. I feel like I could dig up my skin. I just WANT GENUINE MATERNAL OR FRATERNAL LOVE. I don't want no relationship shiz. I WISH MY FAMILY WAS functional. Oh wait, it's dysfunctional because of me LMFAOOO. Why am I complaining? I ruin everything. If I want to change, I have to change. And I have no idea where tf to start. I am on 20mg lexapro and it doesn't help. My therapist, although helpful, didn't really help because I CAN'T OPEN UP.

​

Anyway, sorry for the mindless spilling of my emotions. How do I change? I am in an alternative school right now, taking two classes (Academic level Functions and Art). I have no job (parents are FRIVOLOUS bc of this). My dad destroyed my passport and my phone, so I am afraid I can't apply for a job as I don't have a number or any identification. How do I clean up my act and get people to trust me again and get friends again? How do I learn to love myself? How can I learn to ignore the haters and naysayers? How can I loose weight and curb binge eating? How do I apply for volunteer positions? How do I get my grades back?

​

Sorry, and thank you sm if you read this ^^;

Submitted November 15, 2018 at 03:28AM by savemeplease22 via reddit https://ift.tt/2Q2prD2

[how2to18]

SEVERAL LEDES are buried within journalist Snigdha Poonam’s Dreamers: How Young Indians Are Changing the World. Three-quarters of the way through, she writes: “Rare exceptions aside, my wide-ranging forays into the madness of modern India boiled down to the same thing: the anxieties of young men who no longer know their place in the world. What they find hardest to deal with are women who do.”

The chapter in question, “The Angry Young Woman,” profiles Richa Singh (no relation), a young politician whose confidence and bravery led her to take on the hostile masculinity she found at Allahabad University, where she won an unprecedented victory. A woman had never dared run for president of the students’ union in the 127-year history of the campus. In Allahabad, men dominated all social spaces around town, from the tea shops to the campus facilities, and especially the ins and outs of politics. By winning the election, Singh temporarily changed everything.

But this chapter is the only one in which a woman is profiled. Throughout the rest of 280 pages, Poonam’s intrepid reportage comes from the depths of young male rage and desperation, where everyone seems determined to out-scam everyone else on multiple levels. Stemming from a “whatever works,” “do-or-die” attitude, the men Poonam profiles will stop at nothing to get ahead, no matter who they have to cheat along the way. The title, Dreamers, is deceiving in its optimism because not much of anything hopeful appears in this book.

Right now, over half of India’s population, perhaps 600 million people, are under the age of 25, making them the largest number of young people for any country on earth. This generation’s male population, Poonam writes, are the most desperate since India’s independence. Every month, one million Indian youths enter the workforce, yet only 10,000 of them get jobs — a staggering statistic. The rest feel left behind and abandoned by their own country, so they turn to scams and violence to make money.

As a result, the men Poonam writes about are not driven by morality, but by how fast can they achieve money and fame. Their ability to flip between right and wrong depends only on what they stand to win or lose. Anxious about their future, these men feel they must succeed now or else risk being left behind. Since India’s infrastructure still operates on a foundation of bribery, scams, and corruption from bottom to top — so much, that corruption is often viewed as a virtue — this generation of young Indian men, Poonam writes, will cheat their way to their dreams because it’s all they ever see from politicians, businessmen, and celebrities. If these young men don’t embark on such an ideology right now, they will lose their shot at world domination.

“No matter how poorly placed they find themselves now, they make up the world’s largest ever cohort of like-minded young people, and they see absolutely no reason why the world shouldn’t run by their rules,” Poonam writes.

The consequences for the rest of us, inside and outside of India, of young India’s determination, won’t just be economic. The idea that only they can help themselves will lead this generation of Indians to redefine everything according to their perspective: work, success, morality. It will change our world in ways we can’t yet imagine.

The whole book provides explicit examples of this. In one chapter, Poonam brings us deep inside elaborate call center scams where hierarchies of young men are bilking American seniors out of their pensions with the nonchalance of a lazy afterschool project. In another chapter, various men known as “fixers” operate in rural slums, scamming residents for services they can often get for free. We also meet “talent management” companies ruthlessly exploiting wannabe superstars longing for Bollywood-style fame. These young men, often frustrated or rejected, are desperate for notoriety, only to end up with their aspirations destroyed.

She also investigates dubious English-language instruction centers exploiting the beliefs of young people who think that learning even mangled English will convert them from “losers” into “winners” and help them manufacture a global identity. This dovetails with people wanting to learn just enough cut-price English to get jobs writing punchy, obnoxious content for clickbait websites — exactly what happens in many scenarios.

“The version of English they speak — with colleagues, waiters, customer care executives — will define the future of the language in this country, and, in fact, the future of English worldwide,” Poonam writes. “With India expected to have the largest number of English speakers in the world in the next ten years — overtaking the U.S. — the English they speak will be the English of the future.”

If millions of young Indians are learning whichever bare-bones flavor of English facilitates their ability to scam people and elevate themselves in the corruption hierarchy, then it will have dramatic effects on international business, politics, and entertainment. Such gloomy observations appear all throughout the book.

In each case, the level of fraud and corruption does not unfold in just one direction. Those being supervised in how to perpetrate the scams are often simultaneously scamming their bosses, or even hiring middlemen they can exploit in the process. After someone works long enough in a fraudulent call center operation — whether it’s in tech support, insurance, banking, or travel — he might then quit to start up his own fraudulent call center. After spending a few years with such people, Poonam discovered that the scam soldiers were taking over the scams. Once they learned the tricks of the trade, they gave up on the long hours and started their own operation.

“What did you need to run a tech support scam?” Poonam writes. “A team of five, a rented room, computers, mobile phones, a stash of software, a pop-up vendor, and a friend in the U.S. or U.K. to lend you their bank account.”

The tech-support scammers run the whole operation on Facebook, using pop-up boxes to remotely take over someone’s computer and eventually scam gullible American seniors out of millions. Every petty scammer is now a mastermind on his way to an imagined lifestyle of parties, beautiful girls, and fast cars — things he never had before.

Poonam’s investigations also take her into the dark underworld of mob violence. In the most disturbing chapter among many, she embeds herself with the gau rakshaks, vigilante cow-protection armies, whose logo is a gilded torso of a cow flanked by a pair of swords and AK-47s. Commanders are elected, foot soldiers are chosen, and the groups operate as organized fundamentalist Hindu mobs of angry young men targeting anyone, but especially Muslims and Dalits, who might be smuggling cattle somewhere. Out of social isolation, anxiety, sexual rejection, and the “restless anger of a budding dictator,” the gau rakshaks Poonam investigates all seem frightened by the prospect of a global secular society diminishing their religiosity. They respond by finding solace in the power of violence.

As if that wasn’t enough, Poonam also explores grotesque “anti-Valentine’s Day jihads,” where any violent young man might tie an iron bar to the back of his motorcycle for the purpose of swinging it at couples on Valentine’s Day — all just to injure happy lovers for no other reason. Single, broke, and doubtful that he will ever find a job or a woman that likes him, the type of man who does this, Poonam writes, is

what think pieces explaining the Trump and Brexit verdicts term a loser of globalization, one of the millions of leftover youths whose anger is transforming world politics. […] On an elemental level, he doesn’t know if he matters to the world. There’s only one way left for him to make that happen: punish everyone who’s moved ahead of him in that queue. This is what he thinks politics is about.

Which is obviously why Poonam elevates the female politician Richa Singh above the toxic stew depicted in the rest of the book. Poonam describes Singh as someone inspired by true change, someone who can actually call herself a politician. In a landmark series of events, Singh united minority factions and won an election at Allahabad University. She even sat in on a hunger strike to block the right-wing Hindu nationalist preacher Yogi Adityanath from appearing on campus, which later became pointless since he wound up as the chief minister of Uttar Pradesh anyway.

At times, though, Poonam doesn’t shy away from taking sides, admitting that she was rooting for Singh, “in guilt and in bewilderment.” In one of several confessional passages, Poonam feels a connection with Singh’s causes, but says she doesn’t have Singh’s guts or idealism.

“Singh’s fight against caste, communalism and patriarchy — what she called ‘muscle power’ — voiced most of my issues with the country’s politics,” Poonam writes. “I was drawn to stories of women putting up a fight; reporting and writing about their fight was almost a compensation for not participating in it.”

With the understanding that Dreamers only represents a tiny sample base, the book does not leave any sense of optimism in the reader. Even though Poonam dangles a few threads of hope near the end — Richa Singh’s success is now inspiring more women to enter university politics — one doesn’t come away feeling that anything good can possibly come from the exploits of millions of young men defrauding their fellow humans. The book functions like a damning, almost apocalyptic forewarning.

Whatever does become of half a billion young Indians will have a dramatic effect on the rest of the world, Poonam writes. For example, in the United States and Europe, many people are just becoming aware of Facebook’s and Twitter’s role in the spreading of hatred, misogyny, and religious intolerance. In India, those scenarios are amplified by multiple degrees, and by millions upon millions of perpetrators who want in on the action. The damage caused by troll armies, endless harassment, abuse, and fake stories are far beyond their counterparts in the West, as are millions of Indian twentysomethings pooling their resources to operate call center scams and professional fraud networks on Facebook.

For these men, if their only ideology in life is to cheat their way to the top — “whatever works” — then the planet needs to pay serious attention, Poonam warns. Americans or anyone in the West who thinks they needn’t keep tabs on the rest of the world are in for a dire awakening.

¤

Gary Singh was recently a Steinbeck Fellow in Creative Writing at San Jose State University and is the author of The San Jose Earthquakes: A Seismic Soccer Legacy (2015, The History Press). For 13 years, his columns have appeared in Metro Silicon Valley, San Jose’s alternative weekly newspaper.

The post The Million Trumps of India appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

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[reddit-lpt]

[LPT Request] 16 Years Old. What do I do in Life? Help! [Serious]

[LPT Request] 16 Years Old. What do I do in Life? Help! [Serious]

Well, here's the story of my life. I grew up very shy, timid, and socially anxious.

I was heavily bullied throughout elementary and middle school and had no friends.

In middle school I tried hard to get attention, but always got picked on still and used for

cheap laughs. I grew out of that in High School and became

comfortable socially. But in Freshman year, I wanted to make

friends finally, and the only way I knew how was to hang out with the "rebel" kids. And

before you know it, I'm sucked into this world of Drugs, Stealing, and Lieing. Thank God

I got out of that life by the beginning of 2018. And here I am. I'm 16, and yet my whole

family (24 - 49) is constantly coming to me laying all their problems with addiction and

mental health issues for me to counsel with.

And it has grown me as a person, and made

me stronger through helping them. But I am at the point where I am fed up with my families

shit. And now, I just want friends man. But I never made any because I hung out with the bad

crowd. And now that I dropped the bad crowd, nobody wants me. They are all too rich and too

snobby for me. And so all I'm left with to do all day is write poetry, do therapeutic writing, get

on facebook, reddit, and quora. And then have another anxious, depressing, and stressful

"counselling" session with one of my family members (my brother is the main one right now,

trying to overcome a past heroin addiction and depression).

I never have no time for me. And when I do, I'm alone. And I hate it. As a result, I hate being

by myself; and most the times I hate myself too. For my severe acne, my body, my life situation.

I have nothing positive in my area to do. No classes, or lessons, or programs. Just

a coffee shop where I can write out poems and my mental struggles with weed, porn, depression,

and anxiety. I live in a town where the population is 1,000, so there is not much opportunity in

life here at all. I tried getting involved in sports, but all the jocks basically didn't talk to me.

A few of them were nice enough to say a few kind words to me, but would never go as far

as to be my friend. I always wanted to pick up a guitar, and piano, but I don't have any money, or

anyone to teach me how. And what's the point if I can't even play for any friends or

anybody? I can't even read music. (I failed hard at band with trumpet).

I'm 16 and it seems like the world is just falling apart on me. No opportunity in life. My grades

are failing from when I was a loser kid (0.83 GPA). I am skinny fat and just out of shape. I've

developed this compulsive porn habit to help me release stress, I developed this energy

dependence on caffeine, and I'm away from home right now, but I know as soon as I

come back home in a few days, I am going to go right back to smoking pot, as it is the

only thing that gives my mind a release; although I kind of hate myself for being a lazy

stoner (even if I didn't smoke pot, there isn't anything to replace it with)

I want friends man. I want big opportunity and a future in life. About the only talent I have is

making music, and writing stories, poetry, and I have great therapy / counselling skills from

every bodies f****** life problems I have to deal with.

I would go out and do things I like to do. Like Basketball; but I'm so bad I just get cut every year,

even though I work harder than the best players to get better. I had friends that are getting college

scholarships for basketball, and they use to play with me to help get me better. I had the time of

my life with them, but they moved away to a bigger city nearby with more opportunity.

I got fired from my job at Subway because the Cash Register went off with this alarm, and

nobody trained me on what to do in that situation. I loved working there too, working was

fun to me. That's how boring my life is. I put out more apps, but it's almost a month and nobody

replied.

My dad refuses to get me my permit. I probably won't be able to legally drive until 18. I probably

won't even have my own car until god knows when. So I can't travel to that nearby city to see my

friends, or take classes / lessons in something and meet people. I am stuck in this small ass town

where the best thing to do is go to the coffee shop.

I use to lift weights and loved it so much. It was a passion for sure. But my dad couldn't afford the

membership anymore, so I can't even do that anymore. Wtf man, everybody in my family wants me

to deal with their adult problems, but nobody wants to help me out so that I can have a passion

or enjoy life....

Nobody even wants to drive me 30 minutes to the bigger city, so I can take some boxing classes or

any other self defense. Or play basketball with the only best friends I've ever had in my life. Or

lift weights; my passion. And I don't really feel motivated to write a book or something. I have

so much pressure on my life, that the only writing I can comfortably do is my problem / therapeutic

writing that helps me clear my head just enough to deal with life.

I am not the one to complain about life. This is not a rant or complain post.

This is me seriously wondering what the hell can I do with my life?

Somebody please help, give me some great advice.

I have no idea where to turn.

I just want to have great friends, experiment with relationships with girls, do things I'm passionate about, and do those with friends, and go places with friends. But I have none of that. And my family doesn't give a rats ass about what I want to do.

But you can bet if they need pot, alcohol, cigarettes, or food to eat out,

(or if it's my brothers, meth or heroin) they can do that.

And my dad use to bum my paychecks off of me to pay for his cigarette, alcohol, and food addiction.

I love my family. I try to support them. But I have no support. I ain't got nobody. What do I do, Reddit? I don't know, right now........life sucks and it has for awhile now. Teenage years have been the darkest, dullest, most hopeless times of my life. As a child, things use to look at least somewhat bright....

by TheTeenageOutcast via reddit