#and the grocery person who works overnight knows me

[rosicheeks]

Little bit goldfish??

Ahhh idk

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cookies]

Jimin isn't sure anymore what to think about you and Jungkook. But maybe tonight he realizes something.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, some Angst in this, major fluff too, christmas!!!

Wordcount: 3.1k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jimin has no idea how to talk to you anymore.

It’s not like you became an entirely different person overnight, or as if Jungkook actively keeps him away from you- it’s just.. awkward. He’s seen you search online for jobs, something you’ve never done before, or at least you’ve never actually seemed to be interested in that. And neither has he ever wanted you to do get one- he’s making enough money for the both of you, you don’t have to provide for yourself.

But he believes that Jungkook might have something to do with it.

“jiminie?” You say, skipping towards him to put your phone down, a page opened. “can you drive me to my job interview tomorrow?” You ask, and Jimin frowns, looking at the page on your phone.

It's an email. You’ve been apparently asking for a job at a local grocery store to just help stock the shelves and such, but Jimin worries. “are you sure?” He asks, and you deflate quite a bit. “eight hours a day is a bit much to start with..” he says, and you huff, slumping over onto the kitchen counter.

“But I wanna have my own money too…” you mumble, complaining when the door opens, Yoongi entering.

“But baby you don’t have to? Just tell me how much you need and I’ll give it to you.” Jimin says, earning some attention from Yoongi who gets himself a bottle of cold coffee from the fridge.

“But then- noo, that’s not right!” You huff, tail smacking against your chair you’re sitting on. “no, I need my own for that!” You complain. “eight hours isn’t a lot! I can do that!”

“Can I look at it?” yoongi asks, and Jimin slides the phone over with a sigh. “eight hours five days a week. Have you ever worked before?” He wonders, and you sheepishly shake your head. “then eight hours might be a bit much as a start. Don’t they offer part time positions?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I’ll get less money then though..” you say disappointed, leaning back a big as your legs swing around.

“Work your way up then.” Yoongi encourages. “it’s a good job, decent pay even as part time.” He mumbles, looking through the job description. “I’d like to look over the contract before you sign it though. Just to make sure it’s all good.” He says, turning around to throw the bottle in the trash.

Jimin notices instantly how you look at Yoongi.

“There’s my princess!” Jungkook however breaks through the moment, picking you up from the chair you’re sitting on to hug you, tail wagging with excitement. He’s apparently just come home from work to pick you up- like he always does.

These days, the moment Jungkook is available, you’re gone out of sight.

Yoongi has already slowly brought up the topic of potentially changing the living situations permanently in the future- switching around so to speak, with Jungkook and you living in one house, while Jimin and Yoongi occupy the other. Of course, this wouldn’t be official due to the fact that both Jungkook and you are still hybrids and therefore legally not allowed to rent or own any land or property, but it could still work as long as the paperwork stays the way it is right now. Jimin isn’t really sure if he likes the idea.

He knows it’s inevitable, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

Jungkook and you are gone as quickly as always, with the dog hybrid helping you wrap your scarf around your neck to keep you warm outside. He’s taking you for a bit of a date- he’s doing that a lot in fact. But especially now- with Christmas fast approaching and your love for all things sweet, it’s the perfect time to spoil you rotten.

You don’t tell him about your job hunting. You kind of want it to stay a bit of a secret.

“Do you know what you’d like as a Christmas present yet?” He wonders, warm hand holding yours as he swings them a bit, both of you walking through the busy streets full of food stalls and advertisements. You think a little, unsure.

“I don’t know.” You admit. Jimin and you always exchanged tiny presents, never truly having to think about what to gift the other.

“hm, I’ll have to think of something then.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand a second before he looks ahead again.

Back home, Jimin and Yoongi are arguing once again. “I’m just saying- what if they can’t keep the house tidy? She’s pretty messy..” jimin worries.

“Jungkook will get her to clean up, don’t worry he’s a bit chaotic but they’ll manage.” He easily defends. “jimin, I know it’s hard to let go but-“ he sighs when Jimin turns around, facing away from him. “-she’ll stay close? Literally next door.” He offers.

But it’s not enough. He wants you home.

“She’s already looking for a job. She clearly must be thinking of it too.” Yoongi says. “You can’t keep that away from her. She deserves that freedom.”

“She never worked before. She wont last.” Jimin says, sitting down again to put his head in his hands. “I don’t want her to go through that feeling of failure. She’s fine as it is- why does she suddenly want her own money? Just because Jungkook works?” He whines, and Yoongi shrugs, because he has an idea as to why you could be doing this.

“Does it really matter?” the older male says, sitting down as well. “this isn’t about the money, or the work, or the house, and you know this.” He tries to reason. “it’s about the fact that you don’t want her to leave.”

“Why can’t I have you both?” jimin softly complains. “it feels like I have to choose. Like.. I’d have to take Jungkook away from her to get her back.” He reveals his feelings, making Yoongi stay silent.

Because there’s really nothing he could say to make him feel any better.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Yoongi waits for you in the car as you return from your job interview, offering him the documents to read through. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?” yoongi asks, reading through the papers with a pair of glasses.

“Yeah, but I don’t.. want to just be lazy.” You mumble, playing with your new acrylics you got done with Jungkook. They’re Christmas themed. “Jungkook.. works a lot. And he's always so proud.” You say quietly. “I know working in a grocery store isn’t as cool as his job but..”

Yoongi looks over at you, a gentle expression on his face. “You have a lot to be proud of too.” He says, giving the documents back to you. “and even just part time is already a big thing. You’re a different category than Jungkook, remember that.”

“How do you know?” You ask, surprised.

“both simple observation-“ He smiles a bit, before he flips a page of your document. “-and the ability to read.” He chuckles, causing you to become a bit shy now.

He's right. It’s all written down right there.

“You’re right in the middle of categories. That’s got to be confusing.” He gently tells you. “Go slow and steady. They offer a training day, take it. I’ll bring you and pick you up, and then we’ll decide whether or not you’ll sign it, okay?” He asks, and you nod, watching him drive home in silence.

The moment you both step out in front of his house, you do something unique-

You hug him, an actual, full on hug, arms wrapped around him as you rub your cheek on his chest to scent him. “thanks.” You mumble, and Yoongi awkwardly pats your head, before you run off at the sight of Jungkook after giving yoongi the documents, as the dog hybrid is seen opening the front door to greet you.

“Well, that’s new.” Jimin hums. “is she growing closer to everyone but me now?” He half-jokes- though yoongi can hear some genuine insecurities.

“I think it’s simply evening out, Jimin.” Yoongi tries to explain. “see it like that. Her attention is like a bottle of water. And before, it was all just filling one cup- yours.” He says as they’re both inside the kitchen now, him taking out two glasses and a bottle of water. “But now, there’s more cups to fill. And Jungkook’s simply gets a bit more from her.. well, because it’s a special cup, you could say.” He chuckles.

“I was just as spoiled, huh.” Jimin sighs, taking the glass of water from him, staring at it.

“Pretty much. But just like her, you’ll adapt.” He gently hums, hand on his. “it’s just a bit tough right now. And hey-“ he says, leaning over the table a bit to get closer, faces only inches apart.

“-You’ve got your own special cup too, no?”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook and you cuddle on the sofa, when he notices it again.

Sometimes, whenever you’re close like this, or he offers you just a tad bit too much physical affection, you seem to become almost drunk off of it. He’s noticed it in public too, whenever he hugs you fully and gives you a lot of kisses or even just a hand on your back running up and down a bit too often. Now, he knows that cat hybrids can get excited from a lot of physical contact- but you seem especially sensitive.

Almost as if you’re not the same category as himself.

He doesn’t really know how to ask you, considering that it might be a touchy subject- but he’s also endlessly curious. Though, right now, it’s not a very pressing issue, as you’re both in the privacy of the home he technically shares with Yoongi. These days, your things have found their way into this house as well though- from clothes in the wash, blankets on the couch, or stuffed toys in his bedroom that you wanted to show off but forgot to take back.

He can’t say he doesn’t like it.

You’re happily purring against him, rolling over onto your back, sweater rising up a bit to reveal your stomach- and he can’t help himself as he leans over you to kiss the skin, cold top of his nose making you giggle. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckles as well, moving up to kiss your lips now. You’re buzzing with emotions now, tail swiping from side to side, smacking hard against the couch now as he charges you up again.

It's then that you bite him, and he notices it.

As if he looks at you for the first time so intensely, he realizes a few things. From the more pronounced feline shape of your pupils, to the more defined sharpened teeth of yours. It doesn’t just seem like you’re a different category- you most likely are.

And yet you seem so aware? Something doesn’t make sense- but right now, it’s not the moment to ask about it.

Instead, he watches how you let go of his arm again, only some slight marks present on his skin, proving that you didn’t mean to hurt him at all- that it was just a reaction to get rid of all that excitement. It’s cute to him, most of all, so he doesn’t really care about it, happy sighing along with you as you both entangle your legs together before you cuddle up, getting ready to nap a little.

It's Jungkook’s favorite part of the day.

If he didn’t like his job so much, he’d stay home with you all day every day, and he’d never get bored of anything at all as long as you’d be there at his side. But to spoil you how you deserve it, he needs money- so it’s currently for the best to be away for seven hours and be able to offer you the best he can.

And you deserve only the best, in his opinion.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You feel ashamed when Yoongi picks you up from your first day.

You had to take breaks way more often than you thought you’d have to, it was honestly stressful despite the fact that you did nothing but stock shelves for four hours. You’re being paid- but you also feel almost defeated. You can’t see yourself doing this long term- you feel absolutely drained.

“I know I’m repeating myself, but it’s fine to admit if it’s not for you.” Yoongi tells you, who just starts at your lap. “no shame in it.”

“Why can’t I be normal?” You mumble.

“Because no one is.” Yoongi simply chuckles. “some might fit a common standard. But there is really no ‘normal’. Only average at best.” He explains.

“then I wanna be average.” You say.

“But that’s not you.” He shrugs. “and we all like you the way you are.” He offers. “Jimin mentioned to me that you don’t like Christmas. Are you upset because of that right now?” He wonders, genuinely curious.

“Christmas.. I don’t know.” You tell him. “It’s all.. a lot. Like, the lights, and the noise, and everyone’s always on edge, and nervous..” you confess.

“Its stressful.” Yoongi concludes, and you nod.

“And I also always feel bad.” You admit. “because.. Jiminie always gets me a lot of presents, but all I can give him is.. stupid stuff I made myself.” You say.

“Ah, now I get why you want to work so badly.” Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“I want to give you guys nice stuff too!” You cry out, finally letting it all out to someone. “I want to make you happy too, but I can’t do anything, and I can’t buy anything! I can only take, that’s it!” You huff angrily, ears pinned back when you notice Yoongi pulling up to a small grocery store. “Huh?” You wonder, distracted, when Yoongi runs a hand over your head- the touch able to calm you down quite a bit as you look at him.

“you and Jimin are very similar, you know?” He smiles. “You need to be more open. Don’t suffer all by yourself- getting help isn’t admitting defeat.” He says. “how about you help with chores at home, and I’ll give you some pocket money for it?”

“But then I’ll take money from you again.” You deny.

“Its not that different from working. You do something, I’ll pay you. Simple.” He shrugs.

“…OK.” You nod, determined, as he reaches over to wipe your cheeks, tears staining them that you didn’t even notice falling.

“there we go.” He grins, before driving back home with you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

After Yoongi had informed the rest of them back home about your actual issues with the holiday season, Jungkook is now busy making sure the new Christmas lights aren’t blinking anymore but instead glowing steady, settings adjusted. He's almost done, when you rush into the house, almost tripping upstairs. “everything okay?” Jungkook calls, Jimin and Yoongi looking after you as well.

“Everything’s fine, promise!” You call down. “I just gotta wrap some stuff!!” You say, before something chatters, making Yoongi chuckle.

“So all those Years.. she didn’t hate Christmas at all?” jimin wonders.

“I mean, cats are pretty sensitive to stuff like that.” Jungkook mumbles with his head almost entirely stuck within the large Christmas tree. “and she’s a different category so- ouch!” He flinched when the pines prick him a little.

“I never thought that the difference in just seven percent is that big..” jimin shamefully sighs to himself.

“Well, you know now.” Yoongi reassures. “the past is the past. Let’s focus on the future.”

You’re downstairs a few hours later with a few colorful bandaids on your fingers from papercuts, watching the cookies in the oven bake with Jungkook hugging you. Some of them are shaped like cats, others like dogs. “can we eat them when they’re done?” You wonder.

“They’ll be hot though.” Jungkook chuckles. “you’ll burn your tongue.”

“I don’t wanna wait..” you huff.

“I’ll distract you then.” Jungkook suggests. “we can go put the presents under the tree while they cool down.” He says, letting go of you to take them out, careful not to have you get hurt.

“Okay.” You nod, fetching all the little things you wrapped admittedly a bit chaotically. Still, everyone’s proud- it’s not an easy task for you, and it’s clear that you had to take breaks multiple times in between wrapping to get your focus back on track. “mine look all crumpled up..” you pout, sitting on the floor in front of all the presents.

“You got drastically better though after the first two.” Yoongi comments. “that one there looks pretty neat.” He points to a small one, and you purr at that, before you turn. “You want some?” He offers the peeled tangerine, which you take.

“She’s warmed up to him.” Jimin notices from the sidelines, and Jungkook nods, tail wagging.

“Isn’t it great?” He says, though his tail slows when he notices Jimin’s rather somber look. “Why are you so against us loving her.?” He asks, and Jimin looks towards the dog hybrid in surprise.

“What?” He asks, caught off guard.

“I don’t know. But it feels like you’re.. upset that she’s befriending Yoongi. Or that she loves me now.” He explains.

“I’m not upset.” The older human denies. “I’m just.. scared.”

“Of what?” Jungkook calls, bewildered. “aren’t we a family now?”

A family.

Jimin hasn’t really thought of it that way- but Jungkook’s right. Yoongi and the dog hybrid aren’t taking you away, really- they’re more like an extension now, added on instead of pushed into the existing bond you two once had. The only one who pulled away had been himself.

“we all love her. In different ways.” Jungkook smiles. “the only one who’s making it weird is you.” He jokes, before he joins in, tugging on your tail playfully to get you to turn and tackle him, Yoongi sighing as he has to make sure you both don’t tumble right into the tree.

And that night, a switch had been flipped.

Jimin finally jumps over his own shadow again, helping you unwrap your presents, while also almost brought to tears when he receives yours. It’s all warm, and happy, and almost like you’re both back to normal again- but one look around him offers him a true picture of what it is now.

You both have always considered each other family-

You’re just a few more people now.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

A Mother Always Knows

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: angst, being depressed and heartbroken, being cheated on (implicit), being torn down by someone you thought loved you, fluff at the end

Summary: Your life changed six months ago when the one person you were in love with broke your heart--shattered it to pieces. It's been six months since you've smiled or had a happy thought. When you meet JJ, that all might change.

Square Filled: donut (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Six months ago, you were the life of the party. Six months ago, you were very happy. Six months ago, you had been so full of light and love that it gave your family a metaphorical toothache from how sweet you were being. Six months ago seems like a long time because now everything is different.

Now, you spend your days in your room with the curtains closed so that no light shines in. Now, you only get out of bed to go to work. Now, depression has set in ways you never thought depression could go. You don’t eat dinner with your family (if you eat at all), you don’t go out with them anymore, and you spend your time off in bed crying.

Six months ago, your world ended because the girl who you thought was the love of your life shattered your heart to pieces. That woman made you believe you were the best person in the world. She made you believe you had her heart. She allowed you to confide in her, you told her all your deepest secrets and thoughts, and she made you feel safe. Then, six months ago, she took every insecurity you had about yourself and every secret you told her and ripped you to shreds. 

She spread rumors about you based on those insecurities, told your secrets around town, cheated on you, talked shit about you, and broke you down. The worst thing is she never told you why she did it. Did she ever love you? You two were together for a year before she completely turned against you. All that’s been in your head is the question, Why? Why did she do it? Why you?

Your mom and dad are sitting downstairs in the kitchen chatting when your mom hears you leave your room to go to the bathroom. She can hear you sniffling as if you had been crying recently. That’s all you do these days. All you do is cry and it breaks her heart.

“Richard, what are we going to do? How are we going to fix this? She can’t stay up there forever.”

“I don’t know. I wish I had a better answer,” he sighs.

“My baby is hurting and I don’t know how to help her. I mean, we’ve had our fair share of heartbreak but this seems like the worst of the worst. She really loved that girl.”

“We could take her to therapy.”

“No, that’ll only make it worse.” She looks over at the fridge and sees the grocery list taped to the door. “I’ll handle this.”

She gets up and treads carefully up the stairs. You’re already back in your room, in the dark, staring at the wall in shame. She knocks on your door before coming in without waiting for permission.

“Hey,” you sigh.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” All you can do is give her a shrug. She walks across your room to your window and yanks the curtains open. The room floods with natural light and you groan as you hide under the covers. “Come on. Ger up. You’re coming with me to the store.”

“I don’t want to,” you mumble.

“Y/N.” Shit, she even middle-named you. “Honey, it’s been six months.”

“It feels like yesterday,” you softly cry.

“No, no tears.” Your mom immediately sits down at the edge of the bed and pulls the covers back from you. She reaches out and wipes your cheeks. “Honey, I’ve been where you‘ve been. I had my heart broken before. I felt like the world was against me and I didn’t want to leave my bed. I know it hurts. I know it’s hard. I’m not saying it’s going to get better overnight but it will get better. All you need to do is take a step. A baby step. Get out of bed. That’s not so hard, is it?”

“I guess not.”

She helps you out of bed. You look so skinny from not eating as much as you used to. Your mom walks to the window and cracks it open to filter out the air inside the room. Staying cooped up in here isn’t good for you or the air. You don’t get dressed up too fancy to go to the store and opt to wear some sweats and a tank top with your hair pulled up in a messy bun.

“Do I have to go?” you groan as she brings you downstairs.

“Getting some exercise will be good for you. It’s just grocery shopping. I’ll even get you your favorite snack.”

Your mom drags you to the store that is crowded with people trying to do their shopping before the weekend. Your mom immediately goes to the bread aisle where the donuts and other sweets are. If you and your mom have one thing in common, it’s your love for desserts. She picks out a strawberry and chocolate one and holds them up side by side so you can see them.

“Strawberry of chocolate?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“I’ll get both. I know they’ll be gone before tomorrow morning anyway,” she chuckles and puts both boxes in the cart.

She moves onto the first thing on her list while you trudge behind her. Your head is hung low so you’re not looking where you’re going. You knock into a person and reach out to steady yourself so you both don’t fall on your ass.

“I am so sorry.” You look up and see the most gorgeous woman ever. She is skinny, blonde, has blue eyes, and is a bit taller than you. She apologizes at the same time as you but you shake your head before she can say anything more. “No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The woman gives you a small smile and steps around you to continue with her grocery shopping. You stop walking to watch her descend the aisle. She picks up some rye bread and puts it into her cart before looking at her list. Your mom realizes that you’re not behind her and looks over her shoulder to see you staring at the woman. She grins and walks back over to you. She nudges you closer to the woman, and you look at her like she’s crazy.

“What are you doing?”

“Go for it.”

“What? No, let’s just hurry up so I can get back into bed.”

You look back at the woman who has moved further down the aisle. Your mom kind of pushes you away from her to give you forced courage. The sharp movement causes the blonde woman to look at you. She gives you a dazzling smile and your heart flutters with hope. This gives you the confidence to walk up to her since she’s already seen you heading her way.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiles.

“My name is Y/N.”

“JJ.”

“Look, I don’t normally do this. I’m not dressed so cute, either. I think you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look great. So comfy. I wish I could get into a pair of sweats and relax. Is it safe to assume you’re not seeing anyone?”

“Yeah,” you nod shyly.

“Sorry, am I reading this wrong? You don’t seem very comfortable.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I’ve been in a funk recently. I’m usually much more fun.”

“Well, when you come out of it, would you like to get coffee with me or something?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” 

You find yourself smiling at her request, even as she puts her number in your phone. You look back at your mom to see her already smiling at you. This is the first time she’s seen you smile in six months. JJ will be good for you, she just knows it.

x

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for abandoning my assistant at our new job?

I (22F) am a grocery store department manager and my assistant (26F) is my best friend. We previously worked at nice, low-volume, good work culture type store for a year and a half together while she was still a clerk. The notoriously horrible and constantly-falling-apart store down the street suddenly had two openings for our department for manager and assistant manager. She was definitely overqualified to become an assistant and I had good reports as the manager at this location, and thought we could work some magic on that place and really shape it up. So we made a plan, applied for the transfer and we were accepted. Once we started working there the department started performing amazingly and the people within the department were very happy with us as the new management crew.

Two issues - number 1 there is a store assistant manager who is racist, homophobic, and sexually harasses employees (she has 15+ HR complaints against her and it’s beyond me why corporate doesn’t fire her). She has targeted my assistant and within her first 5 days of working there, she wanted to call for a replacement, and called her lazy. I knew about this person before transferring but my assistant didn’t. I warned her beforehand and encouraged her to use the corporate HR hotline to report any and all behavior. (I have been a victim of this lady too, she asks me invasive sexual questions…)

Number 2 - I am now being worked 7 days a week, 10-12 hour days, and various start times anywhere between midnight and 1 pm. I’ll be off at 4 pm from a day shift, have to go back in at midnight, work midnight to noon, and then cover the evening call out by going in for another 2 hours from 4pm-6pm. Because I’m the manager, I can be worked like a dog but other people are not allowed to even stay an hour of overtime per week. My sleep deprivation has led me to faint, be hospitalized, miss doctors appointments, etc. All around awful. My store managers recognize that I’m suffering but due to corporate standards for scheduling, there is no escaping this, unless I want to make my poor assistant go through what I’m going through, which I refuse to allow another person to experience this.

I can’t take it anymore. I finally broke when I showed up to a scheduled overnight shift 2.5 hrs late due to pure exhaustion, and started having hallucinations on shift. Corporate surprised us at 8 am that day and gave my department a bad review, and I broke down in the middle of the sales floor in front of corporate, customers, and my store managers screaming “FUCK THIS I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS ANYMORE.”

I was surprised that I wasn’t fired but store management was surprised that I didn’t walk out. I didn’t because I have rent to pay. But the incident finally made me realize that this store is hurting my health and I’ve decided to send applications out to other jobs. Stepping down within the company or transferring back to the old store is not an option because department head is not open and even if I stepped down, they’d still work me like a department manager because they know what work I’m capable of. I want something new, a fresh clean slate.

However my assistant very badly needed this pay raise and guaranteed full time contract. She wouldn’t leave. She has an upcoming wedding and needs to put food on the table for her child. She is my best friend outside of work and we’re very close. I would feel terrible abandoning her in an already shitty work situation that I dragged her into - it was my idea and my reference for her promotion. I made promises to take care of a certain portion of duties if she did another portion. If I left, it would be ALL on her, job of both assistant and manager either as an assistant or if she’s offered manager. Either way, that would be a worse schedule than what I’m going through right now. And she would have to deal with that terrible store assistant alone. Anyways, I’d be scared to lose her friendship if I left. But I can’t take it anymore. She recognizes that too, however, she’s sympathetic to the literal medical faults my schedule is causing.

I feel like it’s my fault that she got harassed in the first place, and I feel like it’s my fault that she’s now unhappy with her job. I don’t want to lose my best friend.

WIBTA for leaving my job?

What are these acronyms?

[never-not-ever]

When someone wakes up at 8am and went to bed at 8pm it's like hey, you got some good sleep! But when you sleep until 5pm but didn't go to bed til 5am it sounds like too much sleep and very bad for you!! That was me and it means I'm definitely into a pattern now and am probably going to be up until the early morning agan.

That being said I was up a couple times this morning. My Nana's cousin was supposed to come this morning to fix two doors in my apartment and someone from PACT was dropping off my weekly meds so I had to have my phone on and wasn't really in a deep sleep. The guy never came but the PACT person did come and said "the nurses just want to make sure you're coming Tuesday?". I'm supposed to have weekly sessions with my case manager/peer specialist but I've only seen her once since I got out 😐. She was sick once and then I had scheduling issues with the car I'm sharing with my Nana so appointments got pushed and canceled. Besides getting meds weekly and the nurse asking how I'm doing and I say "eh, okay", the PACT team doesn't really know how things actually are...

Anyways because I kept waking up I had SO many dreams and weird ones. I remember I was about to eat a steak sandwich and I had a piece and was like what are you doing you're vegetarian?!?.... Then a dream I was in a partial program at McLean and newer people that came from my old unit was saying the one of the patients who's still there said hi. Then I was organizing some weird tray of different glass cups and my old fav nurse who's now on overnights was telling me to stop touching it. Then I was like walking along the curb on Storrow Drive (?!?!?) with some other people from partial. Then one where her cousin actually showed up but he was drunk and a lot younger than what age my Nana said. Strange.

I got dinner with some friends last night and I was so anxious cause this was the first social thing I've done in well over a year! Even last summer I hardly saw them cause I was working so much. But one friend came up from NC for the weekend cause she's from here and she has some family things going on. Then there were 3 other friends (two are in a relationship), the 5 of us have a group chat that we talk a lot on. At first the dinner was going to be just us but then 2 other girls got invited and I was so tempted to cancel cause it started to feel overwhelming with so many people. I didn't want to cancel cause my friend from NC had a horrible morning so I ended up going and it wasn't that bad.

It's so weird that it's after 6pm and it feels/technically is like my day just started. The light coming in from the windows sort of looks like when the sun starts to rise so I can kind of trick my mind into thinking it's early morning 😂.

I need to go out in a little bit to pick up some groceries and while typing all this I got a whiff of apple cider 🧐 so I added hot apple cider to the list! I'm planning on making Pasta e Fagioli soup later. My Nana used to make it when I was growing up so I'm excited to try making it myself. I made lentil soup a couple weeks ago but it made a huge batch and I had soup for days plus soup in my freezer so I need to try to downsize this one.

[rendy-a]

Could we have Rook, Vil, and Sebek with a germophobe owner? They don’t force their pets to maintain the same exact level of cleanliness as themselves but the owner is the type of person who’d sanitize their gloved hands even if Mr. Clean gives them a high-five.

I had a lot of fun with this one.  Thank you for submitting your ask; I hope you enjoy it!

A Germaphobe Owner with Vil, Rook and Sebek

Your concern for cleanliness is extreme, perhaps too extreme.  To navigate the household situation with such a master is a touchy situation for a pet.  Who will choose to challenge the master’s outlook and who will fall right in line with their fears?  This is a companion fic to Aurora’s Pet AU.

Vil doesn’t sugar coat things; you need therapy.  He insists you start seeing someone for your mental health at the soonest possible availability.  Honestly, he is very supportive of you.  Vil views self-improvement as one of life’s highest goals.  There is nothing wrong with seeking help to improve your health and Vil is fully ready to help you along with any “homework” the therapist gives you.

One of the first things your therapist suggests is that you try to become more comfortable with the idea of not being 100% clean.  Vil suggests you join him for his morning yoga routine.  You now join him daily to gently work out, side by side.  You work up a mild sweat and it is uncomfortable, but the meditative qualities of yoga also help you focus your mind from your grimy situation.  As soon as you finish though, its straight to a bath!

As a reward for completing your yoga, Vil also lets you join in on his daily facial.  Its personal cleanliness with a purpose.  Vil will personally customize a routine just for you.  He is very careful to pick out gentle products that won’t harm you with frequent use.  He is conscious that you might wash your hands or face several times during the average day.

Vil knows change doesn’t happen overnight.  Until you can overcome your phobia, he will help you along.  When you attend parties together, Vil will stay at your side.  He expertly deflects others from coming in personal contact with you.   Stepping forward to initiate a handshake in your place, a gentle hand on an elderly lady’s elbow to steer her away from your little personal bubble or stepping in front of you to block others from coming too close.  As a celebrity pet, he knows how to manage situations like these.  Just keep working on yourself and leave the rest to me, Master.

Rook likes to observe people.  A master like you with such strange habits is truly a joy to him.  What an opportunity to see such unique things; the look the mayor gave you when he shook your hand and you immediately washed it with a disinfectant wipe.  Tres bien!  Sometimes, Rook might even stand by and allow you to encounter a mess, just to see how you behave.  Like that time you were carrying a bag of groceries inside when a gust of wind blew some dead leaves inside the house.  Sure, he could have closed the door before they reached it but watching you try to decide if you wanted to set the bag on the floor to chase out the leaves or put your things away first, Beaute 100%!

Rook knows where to draw the line between observing your struggles and taking action.  You don’t even realize it, but he routinely takes care of many alarming messes before you even notice them.  Like the day the local trees scattered pollen all over your car.  You walk outside to head to work, and Rook is just packing away the sponge and bucket.  Surprise!  He washed the car!  You’ll never need to know about the germ packed sight that would have awaited you otherwise.

Serving a beautiful master like you is part of what Rook considers his life’s works.  Even if he is a bit mischievous in watching you, he always helps in the end.  No task is too big or small for him.  He will help you dust the cans of soup in the cabinets with the same seriousness as cleaning out the gutters.  If you want to thank him, just keep him company.  When you recite him a poem you composed yourself (about cleaning), he is over the moon.  Whistle while you work.  What a lovely sentiment Master, I will hold it in my heart.

Sebek stands before you like a knight prepared for battle.  In place of a sword and dagger, he has a plunger in hand and a feather duster tucked into his belt.  He is armored in an apron and yellow rubber gloves.  The battle of the bathroom is just beginning, and the villainous germs will be defeated!  You gaze at Sebek posing with determination in his eyes, and you know he is truly your own white knight.

Sebek has a duty, one he takes very seriously, and that duty is to fight grime.  He has a set schedule he keeps of patrolling the house to look for any potential germs.  No microscopic invader will escape his endless vigilance.  You are happy to finally have someone to share your concerns with.  Any strange idea you have about germs or cleanliness, Sebek will soak up like age-old wisdoms.  Please teach him more so he can do his duties even better!

When you must venture forth from your safe clean home, you always have Sebek accompany you.  He rushes to open doors and wipe down surfaces you must touch.  You know you are in good hands with Sebek around!  One day, he even jumped in front of you to protect you from a drooling dog dangerous beast in the neighborhood.  WORRY NOT MASTER, THE FOUL FIEND WILL TROUBLE YOU NO MORE!  He really is your hero.

Tags: @axulashengrotto

[whyyoualwayssoradical]

Idk how much experience you may have with this but lately I've been thinking about how most men I know somehow can't clock transwomen as fast as I can and I'm wondering if male's like don't have as strong of a recognition of sex as women do? And maybe that's part of why a lot of transwomen think they pass when it's very obvious to us 🤔

personally i've been able to clock just about every trans person i've come across, either IRL or online just from something as small as a reddit post. most of them are pretty obvious. there's like probably 30-50 trans people at my work and i can clock all of them at first glance (there's two people I am unsure of) and only one of them knows i'm trans because i told one transman that i trust, when i told him he asked if i was transmale or transfemale.

from what i've experienced, males are atrocious at pattern recognition when it comes to people because they literally just have "man, boy (potential man), woman/girl" is how they categorize people it seems. i've heard radfems talk about how part of the reason males are worse at it might be because they don't need it to survive as much, but girls and women need to be able to accurately ID a male, in any circumstance, to survive in modern society.

for me, again personally, the only people that have really clocked me have been lesbians and gay men. most straight people seem to be completely clueless, more so men than women. i do claim i pass but when i say that i mean like in most everyday situations like going to the grocery store or to get food or something almost everyone will assume i'm a "woman" even though i'm not one. i definitely think there are plenty of women who have clocked me and just not said anything/played nice. i think any woman that spent any amount of time talking with me or hanging out with me would figure it out sooner or later, but i generally tell any close friends if we're actively talking/hanging out that much because i don't want to and don't mean to deceive them.

some anecdotes from personal experience:

i have been targeted by powerful men before because they, for some reason, legitimately thought i was female. a woman who "worked" for them also thought i was. that situation made me legit fear for my life.

the most common question i got asked at whole foods anytime i mentioned i didn't feel well, multiple women would ask if i was on my period, to which i would say just no it's just stomach cramps or w/e was making me feel crappy.

most women that do suspect me to be not what i appear usually think i'm non-binary or a transman if they ever want to ask anything.

i was disallowed from doing something at a different whole foods because they said it couldn't be a woman doing it if the other person was a man (overnights require min 2 people present). this rule miraculously disappeared after the pandemic hit and we didn't have the staff to do otherwise. i had volunteered to be the second person since i already came in early so it was no big deal to come in earlier, but they were like no it cant be a man and a woman if there's only 2 people.

this isn't me trying to say "oh i pass sooo much better" or anything like that, because i doubt i pass that particularly well but also at the same time i often struggle to make sense of what i do experience. i can't imagine this many people doing all of this just to validate me and i don't go around telling people i'm a woman, however my documentation all reflects "F". these experiences are generally why i will say i "pass" and also why i use the term "assimilated transsexual".

i think being bullied so much by boys and men plus getting into radical feminism drastically improved my human sex pattern recognition. i definitely used to not be as good at it as i am now. i can look at myself and pick out my male features fairly easily. i have had more androgynous features most of my life than anything else.

it does blow my mind when i see quite clearly men wearing makeup saying they pass and are hotter/sexier than women, because i feel like any look into the mirror would reveal otherwise... which the same could totally be said about me, maybe i look like a clown too and everyone is just nice to me who knows, but i almost never wear makeup, i've only worn it on special occasions and it's usually just eye makeup, nothing else.

[pbandjesse]

Today was a nice day off. I am pleased to say I don't feel as foggy tonight. But man did I feel foggy for most of today.

I slept alright last night. I have been having a lot of nightmares and that has made me feel a little uncentered when I wake up.

But I got up and went to find James. Got a smooch and went to wash my face. I liked my hair today. I put eye liner on and I felt really cute.

The plan for the day was to go have brunch and look for pumpkins. So that's exactly what we did. James came and laid in bed with me for a minute because it was very cold this morning!!! When we left the house we both had jackets on. It was like it became fall overnight.

We decided not to go to an actual pumpkin patch. Instead we would go to a garden center not far from camp. This was the best choice for us honestly.

But we started with brunch. I wanted to go to south side diner. And so we drove downtown. I was surprised that the five below that's been sitting empty since the begining of the year was finally getting product!! So that was exciting.

The diner was really busy but we got a table pretty fast. Our waitress was very sweet. James got french toast and scrapple. I got a grilled cheese and scrambled eggs. We shared fries. We would eat and look at pictures of Jack o lanterns for inspiration. It was fun. But like always half way through the meal I started feeling very bad. I went in the bathroom and put water on my neck and it helped a little bit I don't know why it made me feel so bad all of a sudden. Sucks. Just want to feel normal.

We would get back in the car soon and drove down 83 to get the the farm stand.

I have used their parking lot before because it's next to the Dutch market I like going to. But I had never explored it before. And it was so cool!! We started inside which was all Christmas trees and lights and so many ornaments. Me and James usually buy each other and ornament for Christmas so I for sure think we will go back there. I love the food ones best.

We would get to guess some pumpkin weights. Their biggest one was almost 1400lbs!!! That's crazy! But they also had very little tiny ones. James decided they would get one very round pumpkin and just give it a giant mouth. And I decided I would make a snowman with three small pumpkins. I also wanted a gooseneck squash. To make a goose. I really enjoyed walking around and finding the best pumpkins. Also reading all the names of the different types of pumpkins. It was a lot of fun.

We walked through their little hay maze. And looked at the flowers. And after we paid we would come back in to look at their trees and found a butterfly bush with monarchs on it! It was beautiful! It was such a nice day.

We went over to their other building to look at the koi fish and the bird houses. But it was time to go.

We went down the street to Andy Nelson's to get BBQ for later. I wanted Mac and cheese and 6 pieces of corn bread. So I could have some for tomorrow. I love their cornbread. It's the best.

I sat on the bench while James ordered. And once the food was ready it was time to go home.

I was falling asleep sitting in the car. We wouldn't have a ton of time when we got back home before we had to leave again for my appointment. But I needed to lay down.

So when we got back I got in bed. And slept for an hour. I had a pretty intense nightmare but I am still glad I slept.

I woke up right after 2. And got myself fixed up. I had a piece of cornbread and sat on the couch with James. And then we were out.

While I was in the doctor's office James went across the street to get groceries. And my appointment went fine. The person who normally does my injections was teaching the tech how to do my injections because I'm one of the only ones who gets it in my legs and not my stomach. He messed up just a little and I had a funny lump on my leg. But that was okay. It didn't hurt it was mostly just funny looking.

I had to get blood work after that. I felt bad when the phlebotomist told me she got a blowout in the her on 83 this morning. But it only came up when we were talking about how chilly it was outside. She was very gentle with my blood work but it still hurt though. And I was incredibly tired so I was mostly just quiet. I was ready to go home.

James was waiting in the car for me. They told me they forgot the bags and had to run back in the grocery store but they were already done. So we headed home.

When we got back here I got in bed. I just wanted to be cozy. James started making a slow cooker soup for dinner. I eventually would pull myself out of bed to cut some fabric for bears. I did work on my sewing machine for a few minutes. But then there were firemen outside and I was on the fire escape watching them to see if something was going on. But we aren't sure what happened.

I hung out on the couch after that. I took my nail polish off. We had our soup which was very good. I think it will be nice to have with ramen noodles. I will probably make the leftovers with them. And then I've just been cuddling with sweetp on the couch. It started raining a little while ago. We were able to get thr kitchen window closed. That's really how you know the seasons are changing. Cause getting that window closed is a struggle.

Now I think I will take a bath. Tomorrow we have a pretty large field trip group. But I'm looking forward to it. It will be a nice day.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of each other. Goodnight!

[a-dragyns-reflections]

A Year in Review - 2022

This past year has been such a wild combination of opportunities, personal development, and professional development, as well as finding out more about myself and who I am. Let's begin shall we?

My year started off with me continuing to work overnights in retail. I had taken an online grocery picker job back in mid-2020 to just start earning some sort of income and opportunities in teaching were surprisingly few and far in between for that solid 2 years I worked there doing this kind of work. It was an okay job, but I missed out on so much working overnights- I was not able to keep up with current events, could not make plans with people, and just had to basically survive in that role instead of enjoying it. Fortunately, I would leave this role this year- thank goodness for that too because I was not sure how much longer I could handle such a job any longer than I did.

It's funny because I knew I would be leaving this role or doing this role in a smaller capacity as early as November of 2021 because I had been accepted into my school board- it was just a delayed start date by months due to constant chasing of paperwork from previous teaching opportunities both in my current city and in the UK. I finally got word in March of this year that I can start to substitute teach in April. That word and news finally was what I needed to change my overnight availability to just weekends, then spend the rest of my week doing my best to accept whatever substitute role and job was available on their platform. It was a welcomed change, but definitely an exhausting adjustment when I started the 2nd/3rd week of April- why did I start so late one might ask? Well, I had a vacation planned that was another amazing highlight to my year.

In early April-ish, my dear friend Darryl, after a long 7.5 year friendship, finally was able to safely travel up to my part of Canada from California. It was so so so fucking amazing to see him again as it had been a long time since I went to California for a long 2 week adventure back in 2015- long overdue to finally see the bestie again. We went all over my city in the 3-4 days he was here for- from seeing his reactions to poutines, Tim Hortons, and how my city had some surprising unique buildings, structures, and even venues to go visit. He had heard about these places all the time from me over the years, but to see him take it all in, in person, with him beside me? So incredibly special. I was an emotional mess for a week after he left; but I know he is going to be coming back to my city this year most likely for a convention I will be talking about later on in my year: Animethon.

Substituting then started shortly after he had to leave and it was wild jumping back into the classroom again, in person, not online. At this point, most people had stopped wearing masks as the government dropped the mandate due to insane protests for months on end. It was terrifying being there and still to this day, I am constantly aware of students and staff in schools I go too working while sick and have to be diligent and safe myself while others have stopped caring or cannot be safe any more...it is a heavy feeling, but nonetheless I made many connections immediately upon substituting, especially at my old high school oddly enough. I had been to a few schools downtown in my city, but it was near the end of April I went back to my old high school twice for social studies cover, and then near the beginning of May, I went back a third time to cover Spanish- an whole long story in itself as another opportunity came my way from accepting that first, one day job.

Taking that Spanish cover job would lead to a long series of insanely amazing, yet stressful events. During my first day covering for the teacher, she reached out to me to ask if I could come back the following day, potentially two days. I said yes because the more you cover for a teacher, the more pay you get in my school board so I was like, sweet- yes please! Cue the next day and again, the teacher asked if I could stay the rest of the week and potentially Monday as well- shortly after that, the department head came and spoke to me seeing if I would be interested in remaining covering for this teacher for two weeks as the teacher needed more time away. I said yes, I would need resources and some help adjusting, but sure. It's an amazing opportunity, why would I turn this down? On the third day of covering for this teacher, after some observations from the department head, I was asked to come see her after the work day was done. it was that meeting that she offered me my temporary contract to remain teaching Spanish full time until the end of the school year- a 7 week temp contract that would change my life so much. It led for me to quit my overnight job on the spot that Friday night, left me scrambling to lesson plan, get resources and guidance from all kinds of people like my department head, the teacher I took over for a bit, and even my old Spanish teacher that taught me at that very high school I was now teaching at. I worked 7:30am - 5pm most week days, and worked those similar hours on the weekends at times as well as I took over everything; lesson planning, teaching, marking, assessing, etc. It was a lot and most days I felt the weight of it all, never took lunch breaks, and just kept going and going and going until the exam break hit and I could breathe a bit. My biggest win from that experience was connecting with the students to receive the kindest of emails and cards at the end of the period, and even one student thanked me so profusely for working with her to bring her mark up 30% to pass the class and move on to grade 12 this year. It was a whirlwind of stress and fear that I was failing these kids by jumping in so late and not sorting myself out right away, but in the end I did not fail them, they got to know me and i got to know them, and I gave these students opportunities to improve their marks after an awful first 2/3 of a semester with constant substitute teachers who did not know the language. We managed and got through it together; to everyone's relief. Whenever I do go back to my old high school as a substitute again, I still have some of those previous students stop by if they see me in a classroom or even ask how I am doing if I am teaching them that day. I would call that a successful experience with that reception I get going back there to this day.

Another highlight to this year was actually coming out as demisexual and pansexual. I was questioning my identity a lot during the pandemic as many failed dates and people pushing physical acts on me left me so uncomfortable I felt broken and wrong. Why wasn't this working? Why was I failing at dating and finding the wrong people? Was it because I refused to put labels on myself as a stubborn person who originally thought labels would limit myself and my experiences to what those labels were only? It was a lot of those thoughts that led me to talk to new friends and explore so many websites that shared so many positive ace experiences with great break downs of everything under that identity. In May, everything I read and experienced and talked to people about just clicked and ta-da! I am demi, I am pan, and I am so happy to be both. My first Pride ever was my first out Pride and despite knowing the stereotypes people had about ace people in the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, I felt so incredibly accepted, welcomed, and celebrated in June I still get a little emotional about this to this day. Now my family do not understand or even want to know more about this part of me, so that was a bit weird to like be out, be proud, but had people ignore me that were supposed to be my loved ones and such, but honestly? Fuck them. I know who I am and do not need approval from people who are not invested in my life any more.

It was also around this May/June period I entered a mentorship program that featured all mentors from the 2SLGBTQIA+ community. I was amazed at all I had done leading up to June, but I as confused about what I should do next; do I continue to try to grow my community on Outschool and be an online teacher? Do I look for more permanent, stable work? What about the queer community and where do I or could I fit in? I met so many amazing potential mentors, but Josh was phenomenal. He had me share about my passions in that first meeting and found things for me to do to work on immediately; create business cards for substituting and my queer D&D classes on Outschool, join local queer FB groups and events, and make some new connections in my community. I worked so hard on all of these things and my August was so successful with gaining more students, going to variety of events, and planting some seeds for connections to continue to grow what I was doing- showing how inclusivity can be accessed in such fun, creative, and personal development ways. It was working, but now what? September started and things slowed down immensely Outschool wise. The second meeting led for us to discuss making a business profile of all the classes I offered as well as workshops I could offer using this inclusive lens in gaming, as well as reaching out directly to local organizations such as the Pride Centre here in my city. Receiving the next steps and reflecting on how much my work meant to me, I had the confidence to start doing these bigger things that led for me to receive paid opportunities to teach Queer D&D sessions at the Pride Centre! Those went so well and bringing in the fun, quirky, and respected queer NPCs I had developed for my students led to amazing success. 2023 they want me back fairly regularly and we will be sorting out a contract on that in the New Year! I have also been asked to work on ensuring curriculum is inclusive in both Toastmasters and in another opportunity I will be talking about a bit further down. Not only did I find myself as a queer person, I found my community, and I am helping to ensure these communities are well respected and represented in every aspect of gaming and education. What a year! Thank you Josh, you were the greatest mentor I could have ever had this year.

Now back to the summer a bit- not only did I attend Pride, but I volunteered and attended so many other events. I volunteered at Pride where those connections first began and started. Also, I volunteered at the Heritage Festival in my city that brings so many people and cultures together in a large park outdoors where over a 130 countries had pavilions/tents selling food and so many amazing other things they could share about their culture. It was hot, it stormed, but I enjoyed helping people find the tents they wanted to go too and learning so much about different cultures there as a volunteer- the best way to travel to a country without actually going there. Worth the sunburns and rain soaked clothes that weekend. I also attended a TikTok Marketing Conference that summer as well- which was valuable and insightful as taking on a new Public Relations role in Toastmasters for my one club. Learning the peak times to post clips, what tags to include, how many times to post any content in a week would lead to the amazing success of ExtraLife this year (see my last post for more details). While I may not use TikTok that often any more- I can see the value of it and hope to explore more in the New Year after that event. I then attended Animethon and it was amazing- the cosplays I saw and took photos of, the people I met, the artists I adored and their work, plus discovering new shows and characters made that event amazing for me. I also recognized that going to an event like that by yourself is very difficult- surrounded by people, being pushed around, feeling lost, and the anxiety of, again, many people unmasked, left me having a few anxiety attacks that con, but at least there were quiet anime viewing rooms where I discovered SpyxFamily and Scarlet Nexus- my two favourites of the year. Hence why, hopefully, Darryl can come to Animethon 2023 with me so that won't happen again. Last but not least, I then attended and volunteered at my city's Fringe Festival. It was an 11 day festival with so many different plays, shows, acts, and more. I volunteered for 4 days, but also went for an additional 4 days to support so amazing acts such as yegDND, Iago vs. Hamlet, Mark of the Minotaur, Queer History: A Queer Musical, Undead Newlyweds, Mi Habana Querida, and many many more shows. Being an Ambassador, it was almost expected for us to go to as many shows as possible so we could hype up local and international acts, help people find venues, and hand out little stickers that made both kids and adults so excited- a beautifully busy event but I so so so enjoyed it, every moment and every show.

The next big opportunity that came my way in 2022 was becoming a Public Speaking Coach for a start up company called TalkMaze! It started out as teaching only one group class every Monday evening, to then teaching two students 1-1, and as of this past month, being promoted to being a Coach Coordinator for the company that has so many aspects to the role on top of continuing to teach public speaking and confidence as well. The goal of this company is to help youth develop a sense of self-confidence through public speaking, debate, and eventually through model UN as well. I currently am working on the public speaking and speech classes to help these students achieve this goal, but my more recent role is also becoming very valuable as well. As the Coaching Coordinator, I am currently developing and revamping the 1-1 Program curriculum to ensure that every lesson does add value to the student in regards to building communication and public speaking skills, as well as developing their sense of self-confidence. When this development and revamping is finished in a few months from now, I will also be helping to hire new coaches, train them, develop SOPs for their various roles, and even provide feedback to the coaches on how well their lessons are going as I get to observe them as well. Such a valuable role and if I continue to do well, there is a chance to jump to full time and lead the entire Education side to the company- a goal to achieve in 2023!

2022 has given me so much in so many unexpected ways; from finding my confidence in teaching again and leaving a toxic overnight work environment, to even finding myself and creating a safe community for myself as demisexual and pansexual, to so many opportunities in teaching D&D, teaching public speaking, and now developing curriculum that gives me so much meaning and purpose in my life, to also hitting an amazing fundraising goal for ExtraLife 2022.

What does 2023 look like for me?

Hopefully working hard and becoming that Education lead for TalkMaze, travel at least once this year somewhere again as I miss traveling a LOT, have Darryl come visit me for Animethon, continue to offer inclusive gaming and education workshops in various capacities, fundraise $1250 USD for ExtraLife, and make so many new friends. I want to do so much with my life, and if I do not aim high? I will get stuck, and what fun is getting stuck when I now know how much I can offer to the world, and how genuinely proud of myself I am. Hopefully you all will be here with me during this journey and I cannot wait to see where 2023 will take all of us.

Happy New Year everyone and stay golden~

PS. Toastmasters reflection will come in June of 2023 as Toastmasters goes from July-June year wise! Stay tuned~

[purplesurveys]

1774

What song reminds you of being in middle school? TikTok by Kesha or that Like A G6 song. Hurls me right back to being in the middle of grade school and being an angsty pre-teen who thought she was indestructible, lol.

What was the first thing you learned how to cook? Uh...I don't know haha, I think eggs since it's very easy to work with. To this day it remains the one thing I know how to cook.

What does your hair currently look like? It's in a half-ponytail which is how I often style it these days.

Who’s the worst driver you know? One of my uncles. I will say it's been a while since I rode a car he drove so he could have changed since then, but I have pretty strong memories of him having a tendency to hit hard on the brakes. I always had motion sickness whenever it was him driving.

What are some wild animals commonly found where you live? Are frogs and lizards considered wild animals...? They're the only ones that hang out where I live, besides stray cats and dogs.

Does it take a lot to make you cry? Not really. Even emotional videos I scroll past on social media can make me tear up quite easily.

If the last dream you had came true, would that be a good or bad thing? It would be both. It was a very complicated dream for reasons only I would know.

Have you ever had a lucid dream? Nope.

How long did your last car ride last? I want to say around half an hour. We came from just a nearby mall but then my mom had to make a quick stop at the grocery to get rice.

Isn’t it disgusting when people chew with their mouth open? It's not the worst thing in the world for me, personally, but I do dislike it when I have to watch someone talk while chewing.

What’s your most prominent memory from 2009? Being betrayed and publicly embarrassed by someone who I thought was a close friend.

Do you think there will ever be world peace? Nope.

What’s your biggest problem at the moment? All the adjustments I have to make for my new position at work. I never signed up to be part of the leadership team. I don't give a fuck how much the business makes. I don't care about company targets. Just let me do the dirty work and make me just write a bunch of stuff again! Haha I hate being so negative but ugh, this whole thing has just been taking up 95% of my headspace. I really can't wait to leave but that's also once I can figure out what the hell I wanna do next.

Has anyone ever told you you’re too emotionally needy? No.

Has an ex ever told you that they want you back? Nope.

Have you ever turned down a job offer? I have not.

What’s the longest hospital stay you’ve had? For what? It was just overnight. I had to be admitted for low platelet count. 

Do you know anyone who doesn’t know the basics of using a computer? Sure but they're all old people, like my grandparents.

What was the last snack you ate? I had a double cheeseburger and twister fries last night.

What’s something really basic that you’re terrible at? Wrapping gifts. I've long come to terms with the fact that I just Can't Do It so I either get paper bags or pay my sister to wrap gifts for me. 

Is it just me, or are tv shows/movies getting to be really dumbed down? I wouldn't say so. It just depends on what stuff you get surrounded with. There constantly continues to be gems out there.

Do you know any same-sex married couples? I do.

What was the last appointment you scheduled? Dentist appointment, last week.

Are you happy with the person you have become? Yes. Sure I bitch too much about work lol but that doesn't take away from how fulfilled I feel about my achievements and everything I power through.

What year were you born? 1998.

What does your favorite watch look like? I don't wear watches.

Did you have one of those Tamagotchi things as a kid? No, it was above our budget. I got a fake Tamagotchi once but if I remember correctly it worked for like only a day.

What’s your favorite kind of wine? I was never into wine, but in general and if asked I always opt for red. But yeah, I mean it's too bitter for me and I always feel sleepy when drinking wine.

When was the last time you felt lonely? I haven't felt lonely in a long time. It's helped me a lot to be perfectly content even when on my own.

Are your parents still together? They are.

Have you ever been so broke you didn’t know how you’d keep a roof over your head? No. That's an aspect of Asian culture I'm grateful for – family ties are super strong, the pressure to move out once turning 18 is completely nonexistent, and in general one can live with their family however long they wish and there'd be zero societal shame for it.

Do you know anyone who believes that vaccines cause autism? Not autism exactly but I know a few people who've been brainwashed into thinking that vaccines can cause other problems, like death lol. My paternal grandparents fall under that category and I can still remember the secondhand frustration I felt watching my parents painstakingly force them to take at least one shot for Covid.

What was the last piece of furniture you bought? I can't remember.

What’s a new skill you’d like to learn? Pottery and editing videos.

How did you celebrate your last birthday? Celebrated the release of D-Day; watched Yoongi's documentary; and had dinner with friends.

Do you have any great housecleaning tips? Not really.

What’s your favorite cocktail? Long island iced tea.

Did your favorite movie come out before or after you were born? Well before; it came out in 1967.

Is there anything you need to do before the end of the day? Change into comfier clothes.

[casspurrjoybell-20]

FOOLS Fall - Chapter 1 - Part 2

BOOK TWO: The 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Samuel Moretti

As soon as Noah placed the last grocery item into the refrigerator and shut the door, I pounced on him when her turned around.

My legs were wrapped around his waist and my arms around his neck.

"Woah," fell past Noah's lips but he gripped onto me.

He grabbed my thighs and hoisted me up to get a better hold on me.

Our lips joined in a feverish manner, both of us making up for lost time.

"Take me to bed," I demanded.

"I think I'll take you right here," Noah decided instead as he took three steps and set me down on the kitchen counter.

His right hand on my thigh while the other held my jaw, turning my face up and to the side before attacking my neck with kisses.

I breathed out a sigh of pleasure, my fingers lacing through his dark hair at the nape of his neck.

It felt like forever since his hands been on me.

One might think I was being dramatic because it had only been two weeks without him but when you're away from your favorite person in the entire world, it feels like a lifetime.

Noah pulled back and I lifted my arms up when his hands went to the hem of my shirt and he pulled it up and over me.

He tore his own shirt off then captured my face, slipping his tongue in my mouth.

His hands glided down my stomach until he got to the belt of my jeans and undid them before pulling my belt out of the loops.

He pushed my jeans down, slipped his hand in my boxers and 'ah fuck' I groaned with my head tilting back.

The rest of the weekend was spent cooking and baking, stolen kisses and hot showers 'emphasis on hot'.

We were in bed on Saturday night, Noah laying on his back as I laid my head on his chest.

He stoked my brown hair soothingly.

It was still a little wet from our shower.

"I don't want to leave tomorrow," I whispered feeling like I wanted to cry.

Leaving was always the hardest part.

His voice was equally quiet as he spoke.

"I know. I don't want you to leave either but remember, this is only temporary. In eight months, you graduate and move in with me."

He made it sound so easy and guaranteed and I hoped it would be but thinking that it might not be that easy, I frowned.

'This year was gonna go by so slow,' I thought.

"Hmm," is the only sound I made.

"Hey, look at me."

I followed his instructions, leaning my head up.

"It's gonna go by before you know it and I'll see you in two weeks," he smiled.

We tried to keep an even switch for who visited who.

Sometimes I had to visit him more than he could visit me but I knew he had a much harder work load than I did.

"Okay?" I nodded but I wasn't feeling a hundred percent assured and in the morning, Noah walked me to my car.

We stood outside of the driver's side door.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug.

I hugged him back, tightly around the waist.

"I love you," he whispered into my hair.

"I love you too," and we broke apart.

Noah stepped aside as I settled into my car, tossing my overnight bag in the backseat.

I rolled my window down before Noah shut my car door.

"Text me when you get home," Noah instructed, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants he had thrown on to walk me out.

"I'll Face-Time you," I said instead.

Noah smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips through the window.

"Even better."

He stepped back and I watched him wave at me as I drove away.

********

I was five minutes from my house, driving down the street Noah's old house laid but as I drove by, a car was parked in the driveway.

No one lived there yet from what I heard and there was a woman who stood, lost outside the vehicle.

The woman looked to be middle aged.

She had dark wavy hair and was thin.

Possibly an unhealthy thin.

She was wearing loose jeans and a grey zip-up hoodie.

She had to be cold, the chilled October air had already kicked in.

I didn't know what compelled me to do so but I pulled over and shouted through my window.

"No one lives there," I informed her.

The woman was startled when she heard my voice.

"Oh. Do you... do you know who lived here?"

She started walking up to my car and I suddenly had an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

"Um... kind of," I shrugged.

I wasn't about to tell some random woman I didn't know, that Noah used to live here.

"Please, if you have any whereabouts on who lived here, I would be so appreciative," she begged, her deep brown eyes wide and her hands put together like she was praying and then I realized who she was.

[mybookof-you]

Why I Am a Patriot

From Wiki:

"Nationalism is an idea and movement that holds that the nation should be congruent with the state.[1][2] As a movement, it presupposes the existence[3] and tends to promote the interests of a particular nation,[4] especially with the aim of gaining and maintaining its sovereignty (self-governance) over its perceived homeland to create a nation-state. It holds that each nation should govern itself, free from outside interference (self-determination), that a nation is a natural and ideal basis for a polity,[5] and that the nation is the only rightful source of political power."

Also from Wiki:

"Patriotism is the feeling of love, devotion, and a sense of attachment to a country or state. This attachment can be a combination of different feelings for things such as the language of one's homeland, and its ethnic, cultural, political, or historical aspects. It may encompass a set of concepts closely related to nationalism, mostly civic nationalism and sometimes cultural nationalism"

As the daughter of a sergeant in the US Army who served in Vietnam, I grew up in a little town nestled just outside an army base. I was fortunate not to have suffered the constant moving that most military children go through at a time when it is so important to establish relationships with one's peers and educational community. As a result of our location, I attended school with classmates from many cultures, backgrounds, and experiences--some of whom stayed as their parents retired and others who bugged out as their parents were re-stationed. That was my world as a youth.

There were events and hints of racism in my family life and at school, but I was mostly oblivious. All the people I came into contact with seemed like they were just people. I passed as white, too, so I did not have the experience of being non-white in American society. I had no idea how the world can be when it comes to ethnic, cultural, racial, and religious prejudices. I had read and heard about those things but they never rang through my body and soul the way personal experience does.

As an adult I am more aware of the reality of threats and events that force some of us in America to live in fear, though I personally remain mostly unaffected. I live in the Midwest now, and it makes me uncomfortable when I walk into a grocery store and find employees wearing t-shirts that read "Stronger together, build community," and there are large flag decals decorating the check-out isles. I don't know what that means to them exactly. Sometimes, I feel like I am in a foreign country.

The country I know stands for freedom and equality among all peoples, races, cultures, ethnicities, and gender. It does not stand for things that take away rights for women, non-binary individuals, or people of color. It does not deliberately establish laws and policies that force sectors of its people to live in fear or distress. It provides affordable healthcare, homes, and food. It ensures basic needs like an income that allows its citizens to provide for themselves and their families. It takes care of the needs of its elderly and the poor. It respects human life.

Maybe improvement won't be seen overnight. Maybe some things won't work as well as we had thought. The hope is that we keep trying to attain those goals. We talk through our differences and listen before we answer. We try to understand one another to the best of our abilities. We offer criticisms that lead to solutions and not character assassination or a lack of alternatives--mostly. I say mostly, because we are allowed to be human. And, sometimes that is how we feel--frustrated and angry. It can be healthy to express those things. Feelings are not the same as actions, and our actions should prove that we are in it to work together. That is how we learn to trust. That is the America I believe in.

It will take a lot of work to gain trust across the wide perception and understanding of all the citizens in our country. It will take compromise and cooperation. If we are not able to agree, we go along with a fair and truly represented majority vote. Checks and balances should be set in place to avoid situations that lead to imbalance and under-representation. If one way doesn't work, we can be critical, but let us not lose hope. If we don't like the way things are, let's try to change it. Let's try something different. Share your ideas with those you elect. Demand to be heard through perseverance and hard work. Don't give up.

The underlying value that will keep us together is the belief that we *all* matter without regard to race, culture or religion. That we *all* have value and contribute to the productivity and worth of our country as a whole. We are so unique to the world as individuals and as a collective, as the United States of America.

That is what I believe in and what I have so much hope to continue supporting. I want to work for the vision of who we are as a nation inclusive of all its citizens and future citizens alike. From where I sit, the party most likely to promote that vision is the Democratic party. I'd like to believe that a majority of Americans believe that, too--that we *all* just need a place to feel safe and cared for. That is why I am a patriot--not because of how things are but because of how things can be. Imagine.

[thebaepatricia]

Life Realizations c/o Vertigo

Mama has had vertigo since Friday (June 14th) so I've been picking up on her usual chores. Last Friday, I even had to juggle work and household chores (obviously, I managed to do very little work).

At first I found it really challenging just because I don't usually do the things she does - cooking, watering the plants, brushing the garage, managing the kitchen, laundry, and doing all those while bearing the heat of the weather.

There were moments when I felt emotional and cried. I even questioned my capabilities and capacity, and assumed I was failing as a daughter because I know "nothing." Yet despite knowing "nothing," I had to know *everything* overnight. Apparently, vertigo won't let you move at all. And I know that myself from having first-hand experience.

Anyway, I digress. It was challenging, and there were moments I doubted myself. But while brushing the garage floors this morning (Saturday, June 15th), I had a really powerful realization from this vertigo situation.

"Maybe I'm meant to learn this lesson."

Before Mama had her vertigo, I was planning to check out this gym I found near our house. It was in the hope of bringing back some normalcy into my life - doing something I used to do in the past, and maybe it would spark something in me and help me slowly crawl out of my social anxiety. The point was, that I wanted to slowly implement exposure therapy into my life, in ways that wouldn't overwhelm me but would be strong enough to make me feel something. To push myself out of my comfort zone while still being within my limits. I haven't gone to the gym in years, so I thought it was a good idea.

But clearly, the universe had other plans for me. It exposed me to an uncomfortable situation, sure, but something that I totally didn't expect. But maybe that's the whole point. It's the universe actually delivering my prayers (to heal).

I conclude: I'm capable, after all! I can look after my mom, cook, manage the household, take care of our pets, and regulate my emotions through it all. One could say this situation is relatively mild, but comparison shouldn't even be on the table. I want to focus on my situation and appreciate my journey for what it is.

We have no one else with us. It's literally just me and my mom. My brothers are not here to help us. And if they were here, I'm not sure they would actually help help. But that's beside the point.

I focused on the fact that I'm the one who's here with her.

So perhaps, I was the one who was meant to learn these lessons. Not my brothers; me.

I'm the one who's here because I'm physically able.

Strength training, or being active in general, has increased my physical threshold more than I thought.

I'm the one who's here because I wanted to actively work on my healing, and one of the most powerful ways to do that is to be around the person I'm healing from - my mother.

And to be honest, it's working. I understand her more.

I'm the one who's here because I need to learn our household system.

For the longest time, my mom is the one managing everything. I even need instructions from her when she tells me to cook rice. A few days of being in the kitchen for the whole day gave me the independence and knowledge I was seeking. It helped me to be mature in practical ways.

I'm the one who's here because I am responsible and capable enough to handle the situation.

I've proven so far that I could do what's being asked. I believe it's the universe's way of boosting my confidence.

I'm the one who's here because it was a chance to envision.

The more things like this happen, the more reasons I have to finally learn how to drive. This is the 2nd time it happened that I felt helpless. I felt incapacitated. I kept thinking that if only I knew how to drive, I could easily go to a pharmacy and buy the medicines she needs, maybe do quick groceries, run errands along the way. Maybe then I wouldn't have to pre-plan everything I need to buy cos I rarely go out. Maybe then life would be more efficient.

All that to say, I'm writing this so I don't forget the lessons and for them to hit me hard the next time I get a chance to read this entry again. I need more hard pills to swallow.

[wheretheresaway-theresawilliam]

Chapter 5: Vanita the Employee

Word Count: 990

TWs: Food mention, themes of obsessive behaviour

/) /) ( • ༝•)

It had only been a few weeks since Vanita started working at the Mega PizzaPlex but she had already infiltrated Vanessa’s group of friends. She supposed it was because Vanessa tended to be nice, even if she didn’t understand people. It was something Vanita still had to learn about. She of course had made her own friend as well, another new employee known as Sawyer Bale.

She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but the two were often spending their lunch breaks together. She learned that he used to work at a grocery store and briefly trained to be an electrician under his uncle, that he liked trivia and obscure movies, and that he played DnD. Perhaps it was his general “outcast” stereotyping that made Vanita mention her own interests to him.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard enough about me… what about you?”

“Lately, I’ve been into true crime, and digging into the history behind our employers.”

Sawyer paused in the middle of skewering some salad on his spork. “Why, are they shady??”

She grinned. “Like you wouldn’t believe. But I wouldn’t worry about it too much, you’re safe where you are… for now.”

He frowned. “I still wish I hadn’t heard you say that.”

“Hey, you’re not the one doing the investigating. That’s the whole reason I took the job.” Well, half the reason, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Why’re you here?”

He shrugged and finally took a bite of his salad. “You know what I was employed to do. Just seemed like an interesting change of pace after the cashier job.”

“Uh-huh, sure. So, what do you think of Vanessa?”

“Who?? Oh, you mean the guard??”

“Yes, Vanessa the guard.”

“I don’t know… she seems fine. Normal. She likes her job. Why?”

Normal! “Do you think I have a shot with her?”

Sawyer’s face burned. “Oh, uhm… I… I don’t--”

“Not romantically, y’dingus! Just as friends.”

He laughed in embarrassment. “Ah! Aha. Of course. In that case, I don’t see why not. I mean, you hang out with her friends and they hang out with you, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same, Sawyer. I want to be best friends.”

“Ambitious… but those things don’t just happen overnight, Vanita… give it time. I’m sure she likes you. Maybe you should have lunch with her sometime, get to know her one-on-one.”

“Great idea. And you can call me Vannie.” She winked and he blushed again.

“Sure, if that’s what you prefer. Vannie.”

She looked up at the clock. “I should head back before Harriet has a chance to complain.” She stood, then paused. “You drive, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Can I ask you a favour? I want to stop by the crafts store after work and it’d be longer to take a bus over there than to just hitch a ride.”

“Sure thing. Meet me by the front doors at closing?”

“See you then.” With that, Vanita returned to one of the several gift shops housed in the PizzaPlex, passing Vanessa on her way. She looked stoic, observing the floor like a lifeguard, sure to provide a protective presence for all patrons of the entertainment plaza. It took effort not to simply stand and stare at her all day. At the end of Vanita’s shift, she met up with Sawyer and made the trip to the craft store.

“What are you working on?” Sawyer asked curiously as he followed her through the fabric aisles.

“A personal project. It’s about halfway done, I’ve been working on it off and on for a few years but I think it’s about time I put in the effort to finish it.”

“Can I see it when it’s done??”

Vanita considered this. “Maybe.”

Sawyer looked content at this. “This is nice,” he mentioned as Vanita filled her basket.

“Hm??”

“Hanging out together, outside of work. We should do it more often. I-if you want to, of course.”

They started back toward the registers. “I don’t see why not… but this isn’t really ‘hanging out,’ is it?? I’m doing my shopping, that’s like, the most boring thing on Earth.”

“I don’t know, hanging out doesn’t always have to be exciting.”

“I disagree.”

“To each their own, I guess… hey, Vannie, look at these,” playfully, Sawyer picked up a pair of oversized googly eyes, holding them in front of his face and shaking them so they spun whimsically. “Pretty goofy, right?? Who even needs googly eyes this big??”

Vanita scoffed lightly. “Dork… put those down, I’ve gotta check out.”

He put them away, still smiling as they bought the fabric. Outside, Vanita bought an energy drink from a nearby vending machine. As she got back into Sawyer’s car and thanked him for the drive, she noted how smitten he was looking. Oh. This boy’s got a crush on me. It was something that made her sigh as she was dropped off at home, taking her purchase to her room. She had no romantic interest in Sawyer and doubted he would grow on her, but he didn’t need to know that. Perhaps this little instance of puppy love could even be beneficial to her plans. In the meantime, under the neon glow of her blacklight lamps, she set to cutting, sewing, and adding to her creation. The inspiration had struck her after seeing a photo of SpringBonnie for the first time. It had been William’s first commercial creation, and it was clear he adored the machine from its appearance alone. She wondered if he still had it, or if it was tucked away in storage somewhere. Little evidence of Fredbear’s Family Diner existed in the present, aside from scarce photos in newspapers, a few posters, and employee uniforms up for auction on eBay for ungodly amounts of money. Someday, she’d like to own a piece of Fazbear history, but for now, she had only online articles to scratch that itch… eventually, she would have Vanessa, too.

[literarygoon]

“The Hell’s Gate Scramble”

by Will Johnson, July 2023

Once the hooch business was booming in Salmon Creek, largely thanks to Shuswap Joe’s timely distribution ingenuity, Clif Garcia began to groom him into position as his righthand man and confidante. Joe found himself shaking hands with people like the mayor and the police chief, as well as their netherworld counterparts, all while wearing immaculately tailored and custom designed suits provided by his employer. He had arrived in town wearing a dead logger’s clothes only months ago, barefoot and penniless, but his tenure with Clif's bootlegging business had changed everything overnight. Joe felt like an absolute imposter as he ascended through the ranks. He feared anyone who spent even a small amount of time with him would quickly discover that underneath his suit he was nothing but a feral boy who couldn’t read or write a word, hardly better than a tramp.

“Some of the best people who ever lived were illiterate,” Clif told him one day, with his boots casually kicked on to his desk while he smoked a stogie. Joe had confessed embarrassment over this inability to pick up a newspaper and understand what it says like everyone else.

“Think of it like one skill among many. You may not know how to read a book, but I’ve seen you read a room. The way you climb trees, nobody around here can do that. You understand the song of the river, and you’ve swum among the salmon. If some prick comes along feeling superior because you missed a couple days of school, pay him no mind. There’s more to this world than you can read on a sheet of paper.”

“You think so?”

“Listen, I’m no choir boy. Being a good person might not be in the cards for me. But you don’t get to a position like mine without being a good judge of character. You always need to know who’s going to stab you in the back, and who is worthy of trust. It’s a survival skill. And you, kid, you don’t have a dishonest bone in your body.”

“It’s just that I feel as if I don’t belong.”

Clif slapped the desk hard, and gave a choking laugh. “Most of those people, these men you’re working with? They would plant you in the ground without hesitation if they thought it would benefit them, if they figured they could get away with it. See, I used to think there were good people and bad people in this business. But in reality it’s just people acting how the system requires them to, how the laws tell them to, how their boss tells them to. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Joe took a long and thoughtful slurp off his drink. “You’re saying people have many bosses, that they are nothing but broken branches being pulled along in the current.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, kid. Yes.”

Clif leaned over his desk to refill Joe’s glass, letting out three or four healthy glugs of Shuscotch. They’d been drinking all evening, swapping back and forth between business and personal topics, all while the window glowed purple from the cloud-streaked sunset. Joe’s boss had a thick sheen of sweat across his forehead, beads dribbling down his temples and spotting his shirt. His face was puffed up, the bags under his eyes almost squeezing his eyes shut. He was a nostalgic drunk, and a touchy one. But when Clif threw his scrawny arm around Joe’s broad shoulders, it conjured in him a warm throb of happiness, of belonging, that he had never felt before.

*

Sunset over Little River burst across the sky in fiery orange tendrils, and it painted the surface of the water in shimmering pink and crimson. To anyone watching from the banks, the flashing reflection of the churning water looked eerily similar to flames — the whole scene conjuring a paradoxically watery forest fire. It was a narrow waterway, meandering down from Salmon Arm to the Thompson River, with thick brush along either bank that dragged in the swelling current. Little River felt young and tumultuous and defiant, like following a teenager through a shoplifting spree at the local grocery store. Shuswap Joe stood out on a rickety dock and watched the water lap up towards his boots, surging forward and then receding again, persistent but playful. He was used to listening to the voice of the water, but in Little River it was speaking a language he could hardly understand.

Behind him was the Squilax General Store, located a half day’s ride from Salmon Creek. Built atop a steep grassy hill a stone’s throw from the Thompson River, during the day it operated as a grocery and post office while at night their operation’s Shuscotch barrels remained hidden beneath a false floor. Late at night the smugglers would roll them down the grassy embankment to a dock that hung braced against the sweeping current and load them on to rafts, which they launched down the river and on to their next checkpoint.

The store was owned by a World War I veteran named Tom Halverson who had lost both his legs and one of his hands during the fighting overseas, but its day to day operations were managed by his plucky paramour Blair — a bright-eyed blond woman in her fifties who was just shy of five feet tall, always wore a homemade floral apron, and had her light blond hair cut short like a man’s, with a swoop of bangs across her forehead. The building was constructed of red brick, had a mossy green roof surrounded by heavy, groaning trees, and consisted of one main interior shopping space stocked with cigarettes, vegetables and canned goods. The other three rooms they used as a bedroom for their children, an office, and a dining room that overlooked the river. They themselves had taken up residence in a derelict caboose that had been left riverside to rust after a derailment.

It was Joe’s responsibility to oversee all the storehouses strewn across the Shuswap area, but it was Squilax that he liked returning to the most. Not only was the property serene and peaceful, but Blair had taken him under her motherly wing the moment she met him. He was still young — though he’d never known his real age — and she’d been able to identify the scared boy hiding inside the mountainous gangster he was rapidly becoming. Every morning she would make blueberry and rhubarb pancakes, serving them at an outdoor table alongside her three young children.

Eventually Blair decided to take Joe’s tutelage into her own hands, inviting him to participate while she instructed her children at the dining room table. She taught him the basics, starting with the alphabet and simple math, then transitioned to more intellectually challenging pursuits like philosophy and history. She’d never had a more attentive student, rapt with wonder as she tip-tapped her rolling chalkboard and always raising his hand to ask a question. His reading in particular was voracious, and within a few months he was devouring novels by Robert Louis Stevenson and Jules Verne. She even wrote him up a real report card one day, giving him A+s in every single subject. Joe knew it was silly, how moved he was by this little piece of paper, but nobody had ever taken any interest in his education before.

She was half his size, but made him feel like he was the small child.

One day, after a long April afternoon at his dining room desk, Joe found Tom sitting in his wheelchair overlooking the river. He had a blanket draped across his lap and a paint brush dripping from his dangling fingers, with three unfinished canvases on easels surrounding him. One of the paintings depicted a sitting woman with the strap of her dress drooping down her arm, the second was a train caboose, and the final one was a horror of chaotic colour that didn’t resemble anything Joe had ever seen before. It looked violent. Tom nodded in his direction, and for a moment they listened to the mountain breeze intermingle with the lonely call of a distant train.

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” Joe said, finally, unsure if Tom had even sensed his presence. “Those must be your paintings back in the house?”

Tom turned to him with bleary eyes. “Didn’t know the old cripple had it in him?”

“I’ve never met an artist before.”

Tom laughed. “Sure you have. We’re all of us artists, one way or another. The question is whether or not you take the time to discover that fact, or if the world convinces you that other things are more important. If I was half as good at painting as I was at killing, kid? I would be world famous by now. Instead it’s just me and my lonely canvases, counting down the days before I ascend from this hellscape.”

“I like that last one, the messy one. I like the colours.”

Tom turned to it, laughed to himself, then swabbed a new streak of purple across it. “I take it you never went overseas,” he said. “For the war.”

Joe nodded. “I was just a kid.”

Tom coughed, not looking at him. “Hell, you’re still a boy now. We were all boys. Boys pretending to be men. Men pretending to be soldiers.”

“Were you afraid, going over there?”

“Anybody who tells you they weren’t is lying. Or stupid. Being afraid is okay, though, because that what keeps you alive.”

Joe liked listening to Tom’s stories, though they were confused and meandering. Sometimes Tom lost his place, or forgot what he was talking about, but eventually the narrative always returned to that muddy horror show he endured in Europe. Tom conjured up scenes of gore and sacrilege, describing how the battlefields were strewn with rotting corpses that had burst open and blown apart to paint the landscape red and black. As a soldier you had to squat shitting while bombs were detonating all around you, squinting up at the sky above and begging a God you don’t believe in to help you survive.

“I’m lucky, because I was a sniper,” said Tom.

“What’s that?”

“Well, you use what’s called a sniper rifle. It can kill your enemy from a distance, sometimes like a mile away. One moment they’re standing there, the next they’re writhing around on the ground trying to stop the blood from squirting out of their neck.”

Joe took a big breath. “What’s that like, to watch a man die?”

Tom sighed. “You put a gun in a man’s hands, and you make him a God. Thing is, man isn’t supposed to be God. God is supposed to be God.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Taking another man’s life changes you. We’re not supposed to have that power, because you can’t hurt somebody else without hurting yourself at the same time. That’s how it works,” Tom said.

“I wish someone had told me that when I was younger, kid. You’re going to see violence, especially in this business, and you have to decide ahead of time whether you’re going to keep your soul intact. Because this smuggling business here? It’s war too. Just a different type of war.”

*

The mountains were watching with utter indifference.

During all the years that Shuswap Joe lived feral in the woods, he’d always felt that the natural world was on his side. The trees whispered to him the secrets of the forest, the animals were his siblings, and the river reliably took him wherever he needed to go. But ever since joining the world of people, he’d been feeling disconnected — exiled almost. And as he was marched down the dock in Squilax with his arms tied behind his back, he got the sense that the stoic cliff faces looming far above were frowning with disapproval.

The bandits had arrived just before dinner time, barricading the store entrance and herding them together with menacing shotguns. They all wore masks across their mouths, with hat brims pulled low. They initially locked Joe in the cellar along with Blair, Tom, and the kids. They were also joined by an increasingly distraught employee, who blubbered to himself in the corner while his bloody nose dripped on the ground. They listened as the robbers ransacked the place, tearing up the floorboards looking for hooch, until eventually they came storming downstairs demanding answers. A cat-like bandit pulled Tom from his wheelchair and pistol-whipped him viciously, until he was panting from the exertion.

They were getting desperate.

“Joe, you have to listen to me,” Tom said, through broken teeth, once the men had retreated to the next room. “Listen, the next thing they’re going to do is kill me, okay?”

“I’m not going to let them kill you.”

“Don’t do nothing stupid, Joe. You hear me? They’re going to kill me just to make a point, just to break you. What you need to do is save Blair, okay? When they’re distracted with me, you make a break for it. You think you can do that?”

Joe nodded, still conflicted, while the men returned to the room. Two of them marched around behind Blair and Joe and lifted them to their feet roughly, shoving them in the direction of the exit. The other men were repositioning Tom in his wheelchair, and guiding the crying employee out to follow.

“Please, I don’t know anything about the liquor. I just run the store, please. This really has nothing to do with me,” the man blubbered, stumbling through the grass towards the river.

“You could just let me go and it wouldn’t make any difference to anybody. Please!”

“Shut up!” yelled the cat bandit, who was clearly the leader. “You shut your mouth or I’ll break your jaw, you hear me?”

Their entourage made its way down to the pier, which swished and swayed as they tromped single-file down down to the dock. At the end there was a raft tied to one of the pilings, as well as a bundle of logs they used to disguise their smuggling activities and an old canoe. It was a breezy afternoon, the sun high above them, as the four captives lined up with their backs to the water.

“Someone must have given you false information,” Tom said. “We’re just a normal family business. We sell groceries, nothing else. There’s no bootlegging going on here, I swear it.”

The bandit laughed. “You still think you can protect it, don’t you? Think maybe somebody’s coming to save you? Look around. You see? It’s only us out here, and the only thing you need to worry about now is convincing me not to kill you.”

With that, he reared back and stomped his cowboy boot into the clerk’s sternum. Astonished, the panicked employee was barely able to burp out a syllable of surprise before he hit the water with a tremendous splash. Blair, Tom, and Joe watched the man gasp for air, his arms still tied behind his back, as the current swept him away. Within ten seconds he had submerged, leaving only a string of bubbles as evidence that he had ever existed. Rage tears trembled in Joe’s eyes, and he sucked back deep lungfuls of air in preparation for what was coming next.

“Sad,” the bandit said. “To think all we needed to save his life was a little cooperation. That man died for a measly load of booze. Does that seem right to you? Does that seem fair?”

Joe growled. “That’s enough. Why are you doing this?”

He laughed again. “Why, it’s you Joe. You were the one that tipped us off. We got word that Garcia’s righthand man was spending an unusual amount of time in Squilax. Very curious. So we sent some men to check it out, and wouldn’t you know it? They spotted men rolling barrels down the hill to this very dock, in the middle of the night.”

Joe took in that information. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t been interested in attending schooling with Blair, if he hadn’t recklessly returned over and over, these men never would’ve realized there was a secret storeroom here. A deep guilt blossomed in his chest. This was the first family he’d ever had, and now he was going to be responsible for their deaths.

“Let them go,” Joe said. “Take me. I’ll show you where the hooch is hidden.”

Before the men could respond to this development, a loud war cry echoed across the water. Several shots rang out, and suddenly the air was full of white smoke and wood chips. As Joe squinted, he saw Tom twirling around on one of the bandit’s backs like he was getting a piggyback ride. With one arm he was strangling the man beneath him, and with the other he was levelling a stolen pistol at his compatriots. There was a bright flash, then one of the robbers tumbled off the dock with crimson squirts of blood spouting theatrically from his neck.

This was Joe’s chance.

While the bandit leader swung his gun crazily, trying to figure out who to shoot first, Joe barrelled across the dock like a rampaging moose and tackled Blair on to the raft moored to the end piling. The force of their impact made it float away a couple feet, giving them some distance while the struggle continued. Blair quickly disentangled Joe’s restraints, then he crawled back to the dock ropes to untie them from heir mooring. Two of the four robbers were now dead, but bullets were still winging through the air as he got them untangled. He looked up to see that Tom was now laying on the dock, dragging himself along weakly by his one good arm. There was a snail trail of watery blood soaking into the wooden planks.

“This all could’ve gone so different,” the bandit said, pressing the barrel to Tom’s temple. “Now it’s time to say good night.”

The current beneath them was picking up as the shot rang out. Joe and Blair screamed from thirty feet away as Tom slumped to the dock dead. The bandit gave his body an unceremonious kick and it plopped into the water and disappeared just like the clerk’s. Only then did the two remaining criminals turn their attention to those had gotten away. Joe felt his stomach tighten as their captors jumped into a canoe and started heading their way.

“Blair,” Joe said. “We’re gonna need to paddle.”

*

It was a shame he didn’t have a better audience. As Shuswap Joe navigated down the Little River on the rickety raft he’d escaped Squilax with, ducking each time a new gunshot rang out, his powerful motions took on a primal rhythm. He looked like a charging bear, his paws swiping the surface with each new stroke. His pursuers were half a kilometre back still, maneuvering their small canoe into the quick current and flying up behind them at an alarming pace, but Joe was born on the river — he wouldn’t let them catch up.

Joe could feel his pulse in his throat, and his breaths were coming in panicked bursts. The evening mist dampened his forehead and ghostly tendrils of mist began to waft across the surface as they passed under a newly constructed bridge to Scotch Creek. He blinked away the moisture as images of Tom flashed across his headspace, the way his noble old veteran friend had crumpled slack to the dock like a sack of wet laundry. Was one man’s life really worth a few barrels of hooch?

Had Joe done the wrong thing, trying to protect the stash?

These were questions he didn’t have time for. He swivelled around to check on Blair, who was paddling furiously on the other side of the raft. She looked like she was punishing the water, beating it with her blade, as her eyes trembled with rage tears. First they had to escape, but then it was clear she had revenge on her mind. These men had killed her husband, and she was ready to start burning down houses until she found out who was responsible. He had only a moment to marvel at the naked love at the root of her grief before they were tossed headlong into a whitewater rapid.

“Hold on, Blair!” he yelled, as they hit the first curling wave. “You’re going to have to hold on tight here!”

Watery chaos consumed them, then, and it was a different type of chaos than Joe had grown accustomed to on the Adams River. The banks of the Little River were further apart, the bottom further down, and the placid surface cleverly disguised all the underwater obstacles waiting to tangle up boats and suck down bodies.

This was not a friendly river, Joe realized — this river was an enemy, just as much as the masked villains in desperate pursuit.

The raft pointed its nose to the sky, then shook itself like an angry dog. Water came sloshing through the slats, crashing inwards from all sides. Blair was knocked down and nearly bucked off the back, but she was able to claw her fingers for purchase just in time to get rocked again. Joe rose to his feet, trying to get a better idea of what lay further downriver, and was greeted by a slavering wall of water nearly twice his size. It loomed above him like a river deity with its arms outstretched in judgement, then speared into his chest with a mighty crash. The force would have knocked him out of the raft, but Blair grabbed ahold of his belt and tugged him back to safety.

Joe turned to his dripping friend, and thanked her with an exhausted sigh. The rapid wasn’t over yet, and the pursuing canoe was cleaving through the waves towards them with no problem. He shook his head in disbelief as another bullet sang its ugly song, thumping into the wood of the raft between them.

“I can’t lose you,” Blair said, straightening out her sundress and preparing to paddle.

“I’m going to need your help killing those fellas.”

*

Shuswap Joe couldn’t feel his arms.

Blair was steering their raft from the back, standing proudly against the driving wind as she expertly slalomed along with the fastest moving currents. After their tussle with the rapid, which had drenched them both completely, the water had settled into a lazy burble before opening wide to become the Thompson River. This was the smuggling route the Scotch Creek distillery’s hooch took to the coast, so Joe was familiar with how it looked on a map. Being at surface level was another situation entirely.

The canoe behind them had gone silent hours earlier, though it still lurked in the distance like a sea monster breaking the surface with its serpentine snout. Maybe they’d run out of bullets. As he continued to paddle, Joe wondered what these men were even trying to accomplish. His boss Clif had warned him that some day they might face this sort of trouble, other criminals trying to shoulder into their territory, but the River Eel Saloon’s owner was confident that he’d bought off or employed nearly every working age man in Salmon Creek. Who would be stupid enough to mess with somebody like that?

“What do these men aim to gain from all this?” Joe asked, pausing for a moment as the river came to a glassy calm. “They had no reason to kill Tom.”

Blair frowned. “Not until he gave them a reason to. Not until he went and played the hero, throwing away his life like it was pocket lint. That goddamn war, Joe. It’s not right, what violence like that does to a man. He was just looking for a reason to die.”

“He still loved you, though. And the kids.”

Blair scoffed at that, rubbing the back of her hand across her dripping face. There were wisps of grey in her hair, which was messily pulled back into a ponytail, and the wrinkles around her eyes told her life whole story. It had been a life of pain and disappointment, a life of never quite getting what she wanted. The universe hadn’t been kind to Blair, and her very existence was a kind of stubborn defiance. She had callused worker’s hands and bleeding knuckles, her bare feet braced her against the rough bark of the raft.

“Watch out!” Blair yelled.

Joe turned with barely enough time to duck a tree branch shaped like an open hand, its skeletal fingers reaching for him through the mist. Their raft had become completely engulfed in a creeping white fog that swirled around them like spirits. It seemed like he could hear voices in the wind, chittering and giggling and whispering just beyond the reach of his comprehension. He swung his head from one side to the next, trying to locate the sources, but all he could see was pillowy oblivion on all sides.

“Where are we?” Joe asked, watching more dark branches drift through the mist and disappear. “What is this place? It feels haunted.”

Blair exhaled ominously. “I’ve never seen them in person before.”

“Them?”

“The Ghost Trees.”

And sure enough, as soon as she said that, an island of bone-white trees loomed out of the blank void before them like a ceremonial grave. To Joe it looked like a grove of pale albino humans, stooped and reaching and intertangling with one another. Their trunks were mottled grey but their branches were the colour of pure snow, like all colour had been leached from them by some vampiric force. They were dead, all of them, but they had a sort of sinister presence to them that made it seem like they were watching hungrily as they floated past.

“Those trees were once strong and tall. Proud. But over the years the river began to eat away at the soil they’re rooted in, washing away all the nutrients that they depend on to survive. The river took away their foundation, then it starved them until there was nothing left to do but die,” she said.

“But they’ve stayed here, stubborn, drying into hardened husks. A ghoulish reminder of what they once were. It happens to us all, you know. We start out flush with life, and end up as dried up skeletons that crumble to dust.”

Joe didn’t want to say anything to that.

Blair began slowly paddling again, staring past him as the fog continued to swirl. They’d almost forgotten about their pursuers, who they hadn’t seen in a long stretch now, but Joe had no doubt that they were still back there, relentless. What would happen if they caught up? Would he be able to kill another man to save himself? To save Blair? Or would he become nothing but another skeleton, like the ghost trees looming far overhead? He craned his neck and gazed up past the shivering branches overhead.

“What happens after we die?”

Blair smiled. “Well, Joe. It depends on who you ask about that.”

“What do you think?”

She thought about that for a long time as a light rain pebbled the surface of the Thompson. The raft was moving quickly now, picking up momentum without the aid of their paddles. The tree corpses continued to swipe at them, reaching out with knobby fingers, trying to sweep Blair and Joe down to watery oblivion. Blair chopped at one with her paddle, severing its fingers.

“Here’s what I think, Joe. You look at nature, and it’ll give you the answer. Some day you’ll die, and then something else will eat you. Maybe it will be a worm. Maybe it will be a bird. But they’ll eat up little part of you until you become a part of them,” she said.

“Maybe a part of you will become moss. Some pieces of you will end up in the belly of a salmon. You’ll be part of the earth, but you’ll also be part of the sky. Your mind might be gone, or your spirit if you want to call it that, but your body will still be alive all over. That’s the real afterlife.” Joe considered this, picturing a hypothetical bear ripping apart a writhing salmon, its essence dripping into the water below as it desperately tries to escape. That fish would become part of the river and part of the bear simultaneously, it’s evisceration a sort of duplication. Blair’s explanation made sense to him, but still he was afraid.

Without his mind, without his body, would he really still exist?

“Watch out,” Blair said, pointing to a long half-submerged tree that lay in their path. She quickly began to steer them away. Its branches looked like sharpened spears. “We’ve got to paddle now, Joe.”

The mist was so thick for a moment he thought he might choke, but Joe began furiously paddling as the tree got closer. The current was strong here, and they were flying towards it at an alarming speed. More trees were appearing out of the whiteness like spectators, leering expectantly. A branch stabbed Joe in the arm, like a thief jumping out of the darkness, and then disappeared again just as quickly.

“Paddle, Joe!” Blair yelled, as the waves started to thrash around the raft. There was blood running down the side of her forehead, but Joe didn’t have time to figure out how that had happened. “Paddle!”

They hit the tree with a smash, and for one terrible moment it seemed like they were going to capsize. Joe’s eyes widened in horror as he gazed down at the frothing madness sluicing through the tree’s branches. His feet struggled to find purchase as the raft rose from the water, Blair throwing her weight against it with an outstretched elbow. As it shuddered and shook in the balance, Joe understood then that death was close enough to kiss him, no matter what he thought of the afterlife.

“Hold on, Joe! Don’t let go!” she yelled, and with a giant crack the raft was free again, twirling in the current. The sky opened up above them, smiling down down with a heartbreaking cluelessness, and the fog lifted almost immediately. On both sides of them were the crumbling walls of the Fraser Canyon, rust-coloured and crowded with jagged boulders. The colour of the water had transformed from a blue-black lifeblood to a creamy chocolate, and the temperature of the water had noticeably dropped.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “We made it, Blair. We made it!”

Blair sat slumped at the back, her whole body trembling like she was freezing cold. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and the blood from her head wound was running down her neck and creating a crimson stain amidst the floral design of her dress. Her breathing was strained, like a bull who has exhausted itself in the ring, but her jaw was set. She blinked determined at the churning water behind them and the thundering waterfall far in the distance. They would be there within a few hours.

“We haven’t made it anywhere. They’re still coming. And this problem isn’t going to solve itself, unless we do something.”

“Okay. What should we do?”

She smiled then, like she had just remembered a raunchy joke. “We’re going to lead them down to the gates of Hell, Joe, and then we’re going to make sure they pass through.”

*

Joe had never seen anything like it.

As Blair continued to commandeer their raft towards the slavering chaos of Hell’s Gate, the waters of the Thompson thrashing around their raft, Joe stood gaping in terror at what lay before them. Underneath his feet the lashed-together logs were beginning to buck and tremble, individual strands of twine snapping like guitar strings. It wasn’t going to hold together much longer, but that didn’t matter — the river was going to eat them either way.

“I think you’re going to have to swim to shore,” Blair said. “I’ll distract them while you get away, but you have to jump off now.”

Joe turned to face her, hearing what she wasn’t saying just as loudly as what she was saying. The look on her face was almost demonic, and suddenly he understood what was happening. This had been a suicide mission all along, and she didn’t want him along for the ride. He opened his mouth to reply over the screaming current, but right then a bullet sliced through his hat and sent it tumbling into the water. The bullet had grazed his scalp, and hot blood burbled down his forehead to mix with the river water.

“I can’t let you do this,” he yelled, holding one hand to the wound. “What about the kids?”

“A mother who isn’t willing to die for her children isn’t a mother at all. These men need to be stopped, Joe. Men like these can’t be allowed to go around killing people over hooch. You swim to shore now, and you tell my babies that I died to make their world a better place.”

Against his own volition, tears flooded into Joe’s eyes. He looked past Blair at the pursuing canoe, then back at Blair’s weather-beaten face. They only had a few minutes before they’d reach the rapid and he had to make his decision fast. Why was the world so full of pain? Why was everyone he loved doomed to die before his very eyes? He thought of what Tom told him, about how this was a different type of war than the one Canadians had just finished fighting in Europe. And every war requires a particular kind of hero. He locked eyes with Blair, fear banging away in his chest, and they nodded in understanding.

When he first hit the water with a clumsy dive, the freezing temperature struck him like a fist to the throat. He gasped and cried out as waves tumbled and surged over his head, struggling to breath. This wasn’t like swimming on the Adams River. This was more like a bar fight with a supernatural entity, like God was knocking him around a boxing ring for fun. Blair’s raft was already a stretch away, and for a flash he watched as the canoe swept past him. He was free and safe, as long as he could make it to the shore.

Looking back on what happened years later, he would wonder how exactly he found the suicidal courage to do what he did next — quickly grabbing ahold of a slimy boulder, he hurled himself on to the beach and began sprinting after the pair of water crafts even as gunshots continued to ring through the afternoon calm. He felt a blast of sunshine on his shoulders as he danced through the jagged rocks along the shoreline, trying desperately to catch up to Blair and the murderous henchmen. Could he make it in time?

Railway workers were gaping at the scene from far overhead, shouting down warnings at the boats. He had less than one minute to reach Hell’s Gate before he lost his new mother forever, and he couldn’t let that happen. Summoning up a bear-like savagery he bounded along in his sopping boots, ripping off his plaid shirt and pawing along on all fours. He was no longer capable of conscious thought — his entire attention was focused on the life and death mission at hand. And then, as if placed there by some benevolent deity, he spotted a knobby tree trunk jutting out over the water like a helping hand. It was wedged between two rocks in the current and hung about ten feet over the waves.

“Blair!” Joe yelled. “Blair, I’m coming!”

His Squilax matriarch swivelled her head towards him, and for a moment he thought she was going to ignore him. But then he motioned at the incoming log and she understood without saying anything what would happen next. While she maneuvered the raft in his direction, he clambered out on to the log and laid on his stomach, reaching down to save her.

As she approached, Blair threw down her paddle and kneeled on the raft. Joe didn’t understand what she was doing until she came up with a fist of twine, effectively detaching the logs from one another. The four logs broke apart in all directions, until she was balancing on a single log. She was as graceful as a cat, stepping back and forth as it rolled beneath her feet. Another gunshot rang out, but came nowhere near her.

It came down to a matter of seconds. She had to leap at precisely the right moment or she would be sucked down to her death. Blair was a small woman, scarcely five feet tall, but she jumped with the ferocity of a fleeing doe. Her fingers intertwined with Joe’s and he reached his other hand to grab her wrist, the trunk groaning underneath him. She dangled there kicking as the canoe swept past, the men realizing too late their fatal error. Blair and Joe watched as it disappeared into the waves, the men splashing into the rapid and never resurfacing.

It was over.

“Don’t worry, Blair,” he said. “I’ve got you now.”

[just-here-for-the-art-shit]

I totally forgot what my argument was, but expecting celebrities to be perfect people is dumb. A person who very recently became famous overnight was totally honest with fans, "I'm not really a nice person to strangers. When I say I'm anti-social, I mean it. I don't like people coming up to me randomly taking pictures of me or asking for selfies."

(I got followed around a grocery store 'cus I was wearing my work clothes and this woman was recording me saying "thank you for your service" and I just politely nodded and said "thanks", tried to go on my way - and she just kept. Going. Like, Am I supposed to appreciate that? If I said "please leave me alone" would I have been painted as some ungrateful bitch?)

And that applies to a lot of people, but there's other things too like, "Omg, this celebrity doesn't like this (show/book/song/etc)" or "they have a different opinion on this subject than me. I must hate them now."

I believe Bill Nye said that he's not a nice person in real life. He doesn't want to be bothered, or pretend that he's someone else.

Celebrities don't owe you selfies or pictures or anything beyond public decency. Some people get this sense of entitlement like, "I made you famous." No. They don't owe you shit.

There are legitimate controversial things, and then there are completely absurd, dumb things that news outlets will pick out to make a big deal out of in order to get views/clicks/publicity. They say good or bad publicity is still publicity.

Imagine if you said something like, "I don't like snakes," and ten media outlets twist it into, "So and so "doesn't like" snakes, advocates for killing reptiles" or some other BS. The media knows that's not true and it's dumb af, but they don't care, they want any attention they can get.

((If anyone with a brain can word this better for me I would appreciate that 🤣))