#Corporate Trustee

[specialneedsalliance]

Having a “team” approach utilizing a corporate trustee and a family member guardian often brings comfort to families and is the best approach to ensuring successful outcomes for your child.

[mylittleredgirl]

that corporate jargon fandom post ruined me because i really can't think of another way to say this. i am experiencing scope creep for real on those ask prompt ficlets. blowing all my milestones. rip to my user engagement touchpoints. i just wanted to diversify my fic offerings. this was not in the strategic plan

[simonegrimescpa]

Boards Can Be Agents of Much Needed Social Change

The United States stands at a pivotal moment in history; public awareness of the inequalities still faced by marginalized people in America, including people of color, women and the LGBTQIA+ community, is growing, and as a country, we are grappling with how to affect change. As we debate around dinner tables, at work, and in social settings how best to strengthen our society and leave bias and prejudice behind us all, one area could be key: the boardroom. Simone Grimes, who sits on the board of directors for Green Growth Group Inc., Junior Achievement, Big Brother Big Sister and Whistle Blower Aid, believes that boards of directors for publicly traded, privately held and non-profit organizations play a critical role in creating a truly inclusive society that respects all genders, ethnicities, and viewpoints.

[scotianostra]

On November 25th 1835 Andrew Carnegie, was born in Dunfermline.

“To try to make the world in some way better than you found it is to have a noble motive in life.” - Andrew Carnegie

Today I thought we’d look into things we might not know about Andrew Carnegie

So how rich was he really? Well in 2015, the Carnegie Corporation estimated that at his peak wealth, Carnegie was worth $309 billion (accounting for inflation). For comparison, in 2022, Elon Musk is worth about $219 billion, Jeff Bezos is worth roughly $171 billion and Bill Gates comes in at $129 billion.

“To try to make the world in some way better than you found it is to have a noble motive in life.” - Andrew Carnegie

Andrew Carnegie's philanthropic career began around 1870 in his native Dunfermline and ultimately extending throughout the English-speaking world, including the United States, Australia, and New Zealand.

In 1887, Carnegie married Louise Whitfield of New York City. She supported his philanthropy, and signed a prenuptial marriage agreement stating Carnegie’s intention of giving away virtually his entire fortune during his lifetime. Two years later he wrote The Gospel of Wealth, which boldly articulated his view of the rich as trustees of their wealth who should live without extravagance, provide moderately for their families, and use their riches to promote the welfare and happiness of others. This statement of his philosophy was read all over the world, and Carnegie's intentions were widely praised.

“The man who dies thus rich dies disgraced.” - Andrew Carnegie

In 1889, Carnegie published The Gospel of Wealth, publicly extolling his beliefs that personal wealth should be distributed for community benefit once your family’s needs were taken care of.

“The problem of our age is the proper administration of wealth, so that the ties of brotherhood may still bind together the rich and poor in harmonious relationship,” - Andrew Carnegie

Want to hear the man himself reading from his Gospel of Wealth check the link below

In 1911 Andrew Carnegie established Carnegie Corporation of New York, which he dedicated to the “advancement and diffusion of knowledge and understanding.” It was the last philanthropic institution founded by Carnegie and was dedicated to the principles of “scientific philanthropy,” investing in the long-term progress of our society. Carnegie himself was the first president of the Corporation, which he endowed in perpetuity with his remaining fortune — $135 million — to be used principally to promote education and international peace. While his primary aim was to benefit the people of the United States, Carnegie later determined to use a portion of the funds for members of the British Overseas Commonwealth. For the Trustees of the Corporation, he chose his longtime friends and associates, giving them permission to adapt its programs to the times. “Conditions upon the earth inevitably change,” he wrote in the Deed of Gift, “hence no wise man will bind Trustees forever to certain paths, causes or institutions…. They shall best conform to my wishes by using their own judgment.”

By the time of his death, Andrew Carnegie, despite his best efforts, had not been able to give away his entire fortune. He had distributed $350 million, but had $30 million left, which went into the Corporation’s endowment. Toward the end of his life, Carnegie, a pacifist, had a single goal: achieving world peace. He believed in the power of international laws and trusted that future conflicts could be averted through mediation. He supported the founding of the Peace Palace in The Hague in 1903, gave $10 million to found the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in 1910 to “hasten the abolition of international war,” and worked ceaselessly for the cause until the outbreak of World War I. He died, still brokenhearted about the failure of his efforts, in August 1919, two months after the signing of the Treaty of Versailles.

Andrew Carnegie helped give the world Sesame Street -Yes really!

The Carnegie Corporation provided the American television writer and producer Joan Ganz Cooney with the funds to develop Sesame Street and the Children’s Television Workshop. According to Sherrie Westin, executive vice president of global impact and philanthropy at the Sesame Workshop, “Sesame Street literally would not be here were it not for the bold vision and audacious philanthropy of the Carnegie Corporation.”

The iconic saguaro cactus is named after him, the plant, which is found only in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona and Mexico, can live as long as 200 years and grow to be 45 feet tall. Its scientific name, Carnegiea gigantea, is a nod to Carnegie’s philanthropic contribution to botany: The Carnegie Institution, founded in 1902, helped establish the Desert Botanical Laboratory in Tucson in 1903.

One of Carnegie's major philanthropic efforts included donating 7600 of the instruments to churches across the United States. He also oversaw the installation of the 8600-pipe organ at Carnegie Music Hall in Pittsburgh in 1895 and had pipe organs in his homes in New York and Scotland.

In keeping with his wealth philosophy, Carnegie left his wife Louise a small amount of money, as well as their properties in Manhattan and Scotland, when he died. His only child, a daughter named Margaret, received nothing but a small trust. She eventually had to sell the family townhome because it was too expensive to maintain. But that was it—the rest of his immense wealth went to his charitable causes and endowments.

You might think that that would cause some resentment on the part of his heirs, but they apparently all agreed to the arrangement well before Carnegie passed away.

[sgiandubh]

Although MPCs website clear about bring a business which contributes a portion of profits post admin costs, Sam regularly in videos and in print interviews misrepresents. He's says my charity abd he says 59% of signup fee goes to charity. If there is a problem l, it's on Sam, who according to original members, basically sold MPC control, in 2017. Your statement of knowing what he's doing with his MPC, is questionable, post corporate change of MPC. It's not just his alone. MPC has sketchy history, since Alex's involvement, and the rumors, look more as truths that a good portion of the administrative costs go to Alex pre-whisky, for a working, guaranteed salary before sales came in. It also begs the question, if Sam is interested in supporting charity with a portion of income sales, why hasn't 10% of whisky sales went to charity partners? The whisky is part of the GGC, Sam and Alex's business. Why wouldn't he plug a Newman Products design? Maybe he's not as interested in charity?

Dear MPC Anon,

It has always been 50%, which is logical. 59% sounds like a demented Asian astrologist suggestion - but you might be unfamiliar with Burmese recent history, so I shall give you a pass, on that one.

Who are the 'original members' who told you MPC was sold? To whom was it sold? When did that happen? I need paperwork to support this statement: the current corporate documents still list ONE officer - pay away from your wallet to find out it's very probably SRH: I am not doing it for you.

Like it or not, Norouzi's involvement in MPC is a reality since at least its creation. You will have to prove me the 'sketchy' part with much more than a stinking grenade thrown by Anon or fandom illiterate gossip.

I will have to see contracts between MPC, AN, SH proving that pre-whisky launching costs of The Sassenach were drawn from the MPC accounts. I will also have to see bank and accounting documents proving so. According to US law, I would also have to be a Court and have enough reasons to subpoena these people and entities to show me those. Stop spreading the shite written by Pufflander once upon a time and ask Puffy, in her retreat, what the fuck did she do with the crowdfunded money for the Harassment PI Report (you know, *urv and co). Now that would be a really interesting question, right? No answer? Bad day, baby. Bad day.

Whisky sales under the umbrella of Great Glen Company LLC, a different legal entity with no charitable mission, were never designed to represent a charitable endeavor. I think you know the difference between a charity and a company, right? Suggesting he should give 10% of all his earnings to charity is akin to a church tithe. This argument is, of course, ridiculous, in the business world, unless there is an explicit and public vow to do so, with a particular company's benefits.

Newman's Own and the Newman's Own Foundation represent Paul Newman's personal commitment to give away 100% of Newman's Own LLC profits to charity: the Foundation serves to direct the funds to the projects its trustees deem the most appropriate, according to the Foundation's values.

This is a different story and I also hope you know the difference between Great Glen Company, a business who wants to remain a business and a ground-breaking CSR commitment like Paul Newman's. Great Glen Company and MPC are separate projects - AN's loud involvement in both does not help, though, especially with an uneducated bigot, such as yourself, Anon.

Assuming he must give 100% of all his profits to charity is absolutely ridiculous, Anon. Why don't you give away all the profits of your lemonade stand to charity and set a blazing, luminous example in this fandom?

Unless you quickly substantiate what you wrote in anger on your phone, with links, facts and names, I am forced to tell you to kindly, slowly, but surely...

FUCK OFF MY PAGE!

[Later edit:] Should I start a US Tax Law 101 course for you, Anon? To me, this rather crude company/charity montage sounds legit. Also, MPC is not a charity, as shown in my previous post.

[aimeedaisies]

The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in October 2024

01/10 As Court Member of the Fishmongers’ Company, visited a Food Technology Class at Bingley Grammar School. 🐟🏫

As President of the UK Fashion and Textile Association, visited SIL Group’s Fibre Processing Mill at Ladywell Mills in Bradford. 🧵🧣

Visited Viking Arms Limited in Harrogate. ⚔️🏹🗡️

02/10 Visited Blackburn Meadows Bio-Mass Power Plant in Tinsley, Sheffield. 🍃🔋

Visited Sheffield Forgemasters. 🔥⚒️

Visited Loadhog at the Hog Works. 🚛🚚

Opened the University of Sheffield’s Gene Therapy Innovation and Manufacturing Centre. 🧬

03/10 As President of Carers Trust, attended the Short Breaks Wales Conference at Sophia Gardens Cricket Ground in Cardiff. 🦽🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

As Colonel of The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons), attended the Annual Dinner at the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park Hotel in Knightsbridge, London. 💂🍽️

04/10 As Vice Patron of the British Horse Society attended the Changing Lives Through Horses Forum at Saddlers' Hall in London. 🐎

08/10 As President of the Royal Yachting Association, opened Warsash Sailing Club’s renovated Clubhouse. ⛵️🍾

As Patron of Catch22, visited the Orion Centre in Havant, Hampshire. 🫂

Sir Tim represented Princess Anne at the Memorial Service for Mrs Julia Rausing (Philanthropist) which was held in St James’s Church in London. ⛪️

09/10 Attended the Annual National Service for Seafarers in St. Paul's Cathedral. ⛪️⚓️

10/10 As Patron of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine, attended the Annual Scientific Conference at the Glasshouse International Centre for Music in Gateshead. 💊

As Patron of the Butler Trust, visited North Tyneside Youth Justice System in North Shields. 🔗

Opened a renovated manufacturing facility in North Shields. 🏢

11/10 As Admiral of the Sea Cadet Corps, Marine Society and Sea Cadets, opened Midlands Boat Station in Birmingham. 🫡⛵️

As Chancellor of Harper Adams University, opened the Digital Learning Hub at the Quad in Telford. 🖥️💻🎮

As Patron of YSS Limited, visited the Criminal Justice Service at the Shropshire Golf Centre in Telford. 👩‍⚖️

14/10 As Guardian of Give Them A Sporting Chance and the Chaffinch Trust, held Management Board and Team Meetings at Gatcombe Park. 💼

15/10 With Sir Tim as Royal Patron of the Motor Neurone Disease Association, attended the “Countdown to Cure” Reception at the Royal College of Nursing in London. 💊

With Sir Tim As Patron of the Remembrance Trust, attended a Dinner at the Beefsteak Club in London. 🌹

16/10 As Royal Patron of the Security Institute, attended the Annual Conference at the Royal Society of Medicine. 🚨🔒

As Master of the Corporation of Trinity House, attended a Civic Luncheon at Trinity House. 🍽️

As Royal Patron of WISE, attended the Annual Conference at IET London: Savoy Place. 🧩

17/10 As Patron of the Cathedral Church of Saint German Peel Development Appeal attended a Thanksgiving Service in St German’s Cathedral, Peel, Isle of Man. 🇮🇲⛪️

Visited the Manx National Heritage “All at Sea” Exhibition at the House of Manannan in Peel, Isle of Man. 🇮🇲 🌊

As Grand Master of the Royal Victorian Order, attended Evensong and a Reception at The King’s Chapel of the Savoy in London. ⛪️🍾

As President of the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, attended a Reception to mark the 250th Anniversary of RSA House. 🎂

Unofficial Sir Tim, as Chair of the Board of Trustees of the Science Museum Group, attended the launch of the Manchester Science Festival at the Science and Industry Museum in Manchester. 🧪🧬🔭

18/10 On behalf of The King, held an Investiture at Buckingham Palace. 🎖️

Attended a performance by the Spanish Riding School of Vienna at OVO Arena in Wembley. 🇦🇹🇪🇸🐎

19/10 With Sir Tim Attended British Champions Day at Ascot Racecourse. 🏆🐎

22/10 As Master of the Corporation of Trinity House, chaired the Quarterly Meeting of the Court and attended a Luncheon at Trinity House. 💼

As Patron of UK Coaching, held a Reception at Buckingham Palace to celebrate Olympic and Paralympic Coaching. 🇬🇧🏅

23/10 Attended a Bicentenary Commemorative Service to recognise the Scottish Fire and Rescue Service in St Giles’ Cathedral, Edinburgh. 🚒🧯👨‍🚒

As Royal Patron of Leuchie Forever Fund, held a Benefactors’ Dinner at the Palace of Holyroodhouse. 🍽️

24/10 Re-opened the Rowan Glen Factory at Palnure, near Newton Stewart. 🍶

As Patron of the Royal College of Occupational Therapists, opened the new wing at West Cumberland Hospital in Whitehaven. 🏥

With Sir Tim As Patron of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines Charity, attended the Trafalgar Night Dinner at the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich. ⚓️🫡🍽️

25/10 Opened the British Standards Institution International Electrotechnical Commission Annual Meeting at the Edinburgh International Conference Centre. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🔋

28/10 Attended the Prison Advice and Care Trust’s 125th Anniversary National Volunteer Awards at St John’s Church in London. 🏆

29/10 On behalf of The King, held morning and afternoon investitures at Windsor Castle.🎖️

31/10 Visited the Robotic Surgery Unit at Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton. 🤖🏥

Attended a Reception for the Pride of Somerset Youth Awards winners at Bridgwater and Taunton College. 🏆

Was installed as Chancellor of Health Sciences University before launching the University in Bournemouth. 🎓

As Patron of Save the Children UK, attended the Autumn in the City Dinner at the Savoy in London. 🍽️

Total official engagements for Anne in September: 58

2024 total so far: 371

Total official engagements accompanied/represented by Tim in September: 5

2024 total so far: 91

FYl - due to certain royal family members being off ill/in recovery I won't be posting everyone's engagement counts out of respect, I am continuing to count them and release the totals at the end of the year.

[lovelyiida]

THE RACE TO WEDDING BELLS ❤︎︎

CHAPTER 1: THE SIMPLETON; YOU.

"accept calls from strangers."

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo realized he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 6.7K

You are a hard-working citizen, you are straightforward, diligent, focused, and most of all. You don’t take anyone’s shit.

Since a young age, you harbored grand aspirations of collaborating with the renowned hero Dynamight. Even during your high school years, witnessing the fledgling hero proclaims his ambition to become the top hero to millions of viewers on live national television deeply resonated with you.

He was a hero you admired deeply, whether that was in combat or in any other position.

Driven by an intense desire to be in close proximity to the fiery and passionate hero, you applied yourself with unwavering diligence. Night after night, you immersed yourself in rigorous study, methodically reviewing each cue card until the ink was exhausted and the pencils were rendered brittle from the forceful strokes onto your notebook.

Before you knew it, you graduated college majoring in hero analysis with a minor in communications.

the first few years after college were hard, without any significant connections, you had little to no experience beforehand to get any major positions in well-affiliated agencies.

Pizza for breakfast and granola bars for dinner, staying up for days and sleeping fewer nights. Going to countless amounts of interviews, passing trial after trial.

yet denied, denied, denied.

you began to lose hope, you felt that all the hard work you did was for nothing. You were fearful of the eventual future set in place for you. A dead-end office job at some random corporate office that could barely pay the bills, "comfortable" housing, and an urge to die because you never lived up to your expectations.

On a rain-soaked day in Japan, a biting chill permeated the air as the relentless downpour battered your umbrella, the droplets cascading off its surface with effortless ease. As you made your way from yet another failed interview, the weight of repeated rejection hung heavily upon you.

This time, however, you didn't feel particularly upset about it. The hero's demands were simply unreasonable, and you had no intention of acquiescing to such outlandish requests. After all, the hero's accomplishments were hardly noteworthy and their reputation was far from impressive. Barely reaching the top 100 rated heroes in Japan, he wasn’t worth any second of your time.

With a resigned sigh, you trudged out into the bustling streets of Japan, surveying the sea of faces before you with a critical eye. Among the throngs of people passing by, you observed carefree children strolling hand in hand with their parents, and trendy teens sporting high-waisted shorts and fishnet stockings, flaunting their disregard for the curfew that surely awaited them.

The distinction between the two groups of people made you notice something…you either abide by the rules or defied them.

So then what were you?

You were the simpleton of course, sadly...

Like so many others trudging along these rain-soaked streets, you found yourself caught up in the unrelenting hustle to secure a job that would never truly fulfill you. Your expression was weighed down by the burden of this unending search, with a heavy heart and a growl in your stomach. you absentmindedly made your way into a nearby ramen shop.

the chill of the rain subsides to the warm embrace of the restaurant. Bustling voices of citizens and the loud clanks of kitchenware. you were greeted by the workers and you bowed. setting your things down at an absent table, you look over to the ordering tablet. clicking a couple of buttons, you ordered your meal. Before you could sulk in your seat, your phone buzzes.

Jolting in surprise, you pick up the phone to read the contact name:

UA WORKFORCE CORP.

Your eyes lit up with unbridled joy as a rush of adrenaline surged through your body. The reason for this sudden surge of excitement was none other than the prospect of being selected as a trainee with UA Corporations, whether it be through the prestigious school or one of the legendary hero agencies affiliated with it.

It all began last year when you submitted your application, and the possibility of this dream finally becoming a reality now had you feeling electrified.

Around a couple of months, you've passed through multiple rounds of other people who have applied for the position. Interview after interview, test after test, you knew that if you got the job you'd be on the track that led you to your dream.

"hello!" you said excitedly.

"yes, hello, is this l/n y/n?" a woman says on the other end of the line. You quickly confirm your identity with the woman. "hello there, I'm here to give you acknowledgment of the results of the final round pick for the UA CORP. affiliates position." the woman's voice rang through your phone, heart beating fast...breath staggered your reply.

"y-yes?" you stuttered.

"Yes, l/n, I'm sorry to inform you--"

[CALL ENDED]

With a swift press of a button, you ended the call, throwing your phone onto the table you sit in silence. tears began to stream down your face as you lowered your head to the table. Your body was wracked with sobs, each tear that fell causing your breath to catch in your throat.

why are you not good enough?

As the weight of reality bore down on you, your tears flowed even harder, your throat constricting as you tried to swallow. Was all your hard work for so reason? Are your dreams non-attainable? Is this just not the past you're destined to take?

After a moment, you sat back up in your seat, heedless of the tears and makeup staining your white button-down shirt. With red-rimmed eyes, you reached for your phone and began to scroll through Google, determined to find some sort of solution to the crushing blow you had just been dealt.

'office jobs near me.'

biting your lip, you try and stop your lip from quivering. you felt as if you were destined for despair since you were a child.

Like so many others, you too idolized heroes when you were young, running around your house with makeshift masks and capes that resembled the same heroes you watched on TV. Full of youthful hope and possessing a fairly decent quirk, you dreamed of one day joining the ranks of these legendary figures.

Fast forward a few years, and you found yourself in middle school. After a long day of classes, you trudged your way back home, collapsed onto your bed, and drifted off into a deep sleep, ready to take on whatever the next day had in store for you.

but the only thing is, you didn't wake up.

you didn't wake up for another three days to be exact. when you finally awoke in the hospital, your parent broke the news to you. You seemed to catch a very rare parasite, this parasite can leave the host sickly with fever, very drowsy, and worst of all...

quirkless.

The following week at school, you shared the news with your classmates: you were essentially quirkless now. But instead of receiving words of encouragement and hope, you found yourself labeled an outcast by everyone around you.

"the girl who lived, but at the cost of her quirk."

Years later, the news still shook you to your core, and you couldn't help but feel stunned. present day, you've noticed that you could still use your quirk from time to time. around 10 times a year, your quirk would come and go in little spurts. but as time grew long, you became accustomed to not using it for a long time, so you never did.

so now here you were, alone, quirkless, and a soon to be slave to the corporate world.

cheeks stained with mascara, eyes red, and head pounding, you look over to the ordering tray, sliding out the hot ramen ready to be consumed.

"at least this ramen can make me feel better," you mumbled to yourself. Taking the large bowl from the tray, you set it out on the table and began to dig in. As you eat, you begin to scroll ok your phone looking for regular office jobs…

Manager at printing company? No.

Office associates needed at tech company? No.

Receptionist at steel company? No way.

Senior communications analyst? What?

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Deny, deny, deny!

This can’t be your reality right? How are you going to break this down to your parents?

Deep in thought, you didn’t even realize that someone slid in your booth. Tapping away on your phone, you open your messages.

Group chat: Mom & Dad

you: hanging in there! So close!

letting out a sigh, you open the camera app. Looking at the screen you see yourself, torn up from the floor up. Eyes a faint pink contrasting from the red they were a few moments beforehand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you quickly tap your screen to flip your camera.

Flipping your camera, you stare at the screen. A man appears on the other side, as he looks at the camera in embarrassment.

Eyes widening you gasp, “Excuse me, but there’s other seats around,” you try to sound as nice as possible, but why should you be nice if today hasn’t been so nice to you back?

The man was covered in black from head to toe, black hood on tight, as he looks at you. Black-shaded glasses and a matching face mask on him.

“Um, can I sit with you please?” He says.

Rolling your eyes, you become irritated, “no. now if you can please move–“

“Please, I can’t sit alone, people will notice me!” He whispers, body leaning in towards you, jolting backward, you frown in confusion.

“What?” You say, tone cold and filled with irritancy.

“Um…listen this is the only time I’ve got to myself, and I love this place! And if people see me alone then they’ll notice me, so can I just please sit with you?”

Blinking rapidly, you grew quiet.

Looking around, you see no one looking toward you or the mysterious man ahead of you. Looking back, you then sink into your seat. Grabbing your face with your hands, you soon let out a deep sigh.

“Sure, fuck it, go ahead, this day can’t possibly get any worse!” You laugh to yourself. This makes the man’s head tilt. “May I ask why your day is bad?” He says. Removing your hands from your face you give him a deadpan look. Licking your lips you sit up from your chair and grab your utensils.

Stirring your noodles around you let out a dry chuckle, “Let’s just say things never go the way I want them to—and there’s also a random man in front of my face when I could really like being alone at the moment…the small things.”

You say, sarcasm drenched with every word you spoke. This makes the man laugh, “Sorry your day has been shit.”

Leaning into his seat, you crossed his arms. “Maybe I can make your day better? Go ahead, have at me,” the man says.

Letting out an irritated sigh, you confess.

“The only thing that can make me happy at the moment, is if you can somehow give me a job at UA Corp.”

You chuckle, the utter impossibility of what you just said made it humorous. “Really?” The man says. “Really,” you replied back.

“I think I can do that,” he says, his tone relaxed and suave—he sounds as if he can in fact…do that.

“As if,” you snort.

“You wanna make it a bet?” He says, his tone was playful and a tad bit flirtatious. “I can get you to work for the top pro-hero’s in the country, all I need to do is make the call.” He says as every word falls off his tongue with no effort.

This peaks your interests.

“You don’t say?” you reply back.

“Who do you want to work for sweetheart? Just give me any name.” He says.

“Okay…Dynamight, I—I want to become a secretary! That’s the position!” You say, your tone desperate and hopeful.

The man smirks behind his mask, “Okay.” Pulling out his phone, he hands it to you. “Give me your number, you’ll be getting a call soon.” He says, biting your lip you grab the phone and do as he says.

You're well aware of the dangers of blindly accepting what strangers say; it's like common sense 101. And yet, here you are, drawn towards a man who's covered in black from head to toe. It's not the smartest move, but there's just something about him that makes you want to place your faith in him. You can't quite put your finger on it—maybe it's the intensity of his gaze, or the air of mystery surrounding him—but you can't help but feel a strange attraction towards him. It's a risky move, but sometimes you just have to trust your gut, even if it defies all reason.

“Do you promise?” You spoke softly, this earns a chuckle out of the man, “Of course! You’re making a deal with a god—not a devil.”

As you gaze into the stranger's dark eyes, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. There's something about him that doesn't sit right, and whatever god he may or may not represent, he's not exactly acting like one. But despite your reservations, you continue to chat with him, and as the conversation flows, you begin to let your guard down. Eventually, you find yourself sinking back into your seat, pouting slightly as you polish off the rest of your meal. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something about this mysterious man that's drawing you in, despite all the warning signs.

You're not quite sure how to process the choices you've made, given how impulsive they were. It's not exactly the wisest decision to act on a whim fueled by intense emotions, but you simply didn't give a damn. Life's been pretty rough lately, and if things are already this bad, then why not make them even worse? That seems to be your thought process, as you ride the waves of your tumultuous feelings, consequences be damned.

throwing your utensils into the empty bowl, you gather your things and shuffle out of the booth. Standing before the mysterious man, you frown. "are you going to eat anything?" you ask.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna eat somewhere else...you've made me have a taste for something different." Soon, the man jumps out of his seat and walks away, brushing past your shoulder with ease.

Astonished, you look back and watch the man leave out the restaurant in a hurry.

What just happened?

for the rest of the day, you carried yourself through your regular routine. eat, think, cry, repeat. As day turned to noon, and noon falls to night...you grew anxious for a reply from the mysterious man you met earlier today. Heart pounding and blood running cold you sit in your apartment kitchen, your phone a couple of feet away from you on the kitchen counter. As you were sitting on the other side, the wooden chair creaked with every movement you made.

You didn't know what to think of the situation before you, looking around the apartment, the shadows grew as you fell deeper into the times of night. Looking at the clock, it read 10:39pm.

Letting out a sigh, you rise from your seat and grab your phone. you head into your bedroom, crashing onto your bed (that could be softer) you lay and stare at the ceiling.

"Is this my life now?" you questioned yourself.

You purse your lips and shut your eyes tight, hoping to drift off into slumber and escape the terrible day that's left you feeling like crap. Sleep seems like the perfect distraction—a chance to shut out the world and forget all the stress and negativity that's been weighing you down. With a deep breath, you try to clear your mind and let yourself sink into the warm embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

the sounds of your phone sound an alarm through your body, shooting up from your bed you scramble to your phone. breath staggered and heart pounding, grabbing the phone you read the contact number.

ANONONYMUS CALLER

eyeing the phone more, you read the time. 5:57am? It's way too early to be answering calls...but you knew this call could be important. Taking in a deep breath, you answer the phone.

"h-hello?" you say, you breathed hard onto the other end. Anticipating the voice on the other end of the phone. A moment has passed by, the phone still attached to your ear, you sit on your bed waiting for someone to speak.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" you ask again, you hear nothing but static on the other end. Swallowing your spit, you curse and begin to end the call.

"l/n, isn't it?" a familiar voice rang out, eyes widening you press your ear back onto the phone. "yes! This is she!" you softly exclaimed.

"you've got the job, I'm sending you the location of where you need to be...meet me there at 8:30am sharp not a minute before, not a minute after. Do you understand me?" the voice rang cold, monotone, and raspy.

your heart was jumping out of your skeleton at this point, unable to refuse, you complied. "Okay! Thank you again, for helping me...whoever you are," you say.

"Don't mention it, you'll know who I am, and soon everything will fall into place," maybe you were hearing things, but you could hear a twinge of humor in his tone.

before you could reply, the phone disconnected from the call. you couldn't believe it. "I'm working for Dynamight?" you say aloud, in disbelief. A smile etched onto your face, but you soon wiped it off.

Standing from your bed, you began to pace. "let's not celebrate now y/n, there are still many factors that need to be noticed..."

factors which are:

where is this location?

this could be a trafficking scam

you could be dead in a couple of hours

but what if it was real?

The power of belief was astounding—it seemed that the mere possibility of something being real outweighed all other considerations tenfold. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you prepared to head to the location, eagerly zooming around your room to fix your hair and makeup. You even practiced your best customer service voice, running through lines and mentally rehearsing how you would handle different scenarios. All that mattered was making a good impression, and the prospect of the unknown made your heart race with anticipation.

"How can I help you Mr. Dynamight?" "Your meeting is scheduled at this time Mr. Dynamight" "Would you like any coffee Mr. Dynamight?" you in your sweetest voice possible. Giggling in excitement you reach for the bottom drawer of your dresser. Pulling the drawer, you smile with excitement.

"The time has come, you're finally getting what you deserve." Looking down at the clothes before you, you planned on wearing this outfit for the first day on the job.

You expected to find your outfit covered in cobwebs when you pulled it out of the drawer, but to your surprise, it was in impeccable condition. Not a single wrinkle marred the pristine fabric, and there wasn't a single stain to be found. You had ironed and steamed everything to perfection, determined to look your absolute best. Your outfit was the epitome of sophistication - a classic white button-down paired with sleek black work pants and matching heels. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you admired yourself in the mirror, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.

throwing your clothes on, you read the clock, 7:51am. eyes widening, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before grabbing your things and rushing out the door.

flagging down a taxi, you hurriedly give the driver the location. your heart leaped from your chest once more when you read the location details on the screen.

DYNAMIGHT RIOT HERO AGENCY ©

this is seriously happening? you thought to yourself.

"you work there ma'am?" the taxi driver asks. a new rush of pride washes over you, "yes, I do...it's my first day." you say, a shy smile paints over your face. "congrats, I heard it's not so easy getting a job at places like that, my niece tried to work there but got denied after 2 years of interviews."

"wow," was the only word that could come out of your lips.

"how'd you get in? connections?" he pries. "um...you could say that, but I think I got here out of pure luck, you wouldn't believe it." You chuckle, the man smacks his lips at your reply, obviously upset at your success. Forming your mouth into an "oh," you sit back in your seat and look away from the man.

The silence between you and the man lingered awkwardly for what felt like an eternity, as the taxi sped on for the next 20 minutes. You were relieved to finally see the agency's headquarters looming up ahead, massive in size and bold in color. The building stood tall, almost like a skyscraper, with bright hues of red and orange radiating from its walls. Your eyes widened in amazement as you watched countless people streaming in and out of the entrance, going about their day-to-day business. As the taxi slowed to a stop, the driver tried to navigate his way toward the front of the building, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness at what lay ahead.

"Thank you!" before the taxi could even stop, you jump out of the vehicle. Throwing your total amount for the ride into the car, you slam the door and rush towards the building. Clutching your briefcase tight, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Before stepping forward, you feel your phone vibrate. It's another text from the man you met yesterday.

ANONYMOUS:

walk into the building and head straight into the right elevator by the bathroom, when you get in go to the 21st floor.

when you get there, there will be a front desk. ask for red. tell them your name, and they'll know who you are.

a lady will lead you into a room, wait there until further notice.

"Here goes nothing," putting the phone away you do as you were told and walk into the building. you were absolutely astonished by the size of the first floor, to the point where you became overwhelmed. businessmen and woman hustling to their destination, mascots dancing to the faint music, trying to stay on the beat but the sound of children screaming in amusement drown out the tempo. tour guides leading the way for curious visitors.

This place was a workplace war zone...

Letting your heels carry you away, you head towards said elevators. you waited patiently in line to enter the elevator. looking at the elevators, you look at the vinyl art on it. It's a picture of Dynamight and his partner Red Riot, fists in the air and victorious smiles shining bright you read the quote on the elevator.

"Work hard, grab victory by the throat, and win!"

Very Dynamight coded, you'll say.

Packing into the elevator like sardines, you notice there's an assistant there who presses the buttons. Do they seriously need a position like that here? "Floor 21 please!" you yell out. You notice the multiple workers give you an unreadable look, frowning you hang your head low in embarrassment.

After a good 2 minutes of waiting your turn, you finally reach your designated floor. squishing past the still rather large group of people, you take in a deep breath of fresh air. Holding your briefcase tight, you look back and thank the assistant.

"good luck, you'll need it," the assistant and everyone else in the elevator starts to burst into a fit of laughter. Confused, you were about to ask why but the elevator quickly closed. Adjusting your uniform, you bite the inside of your cheek.

"Don't let them get to you y/n, this is your dream," you reassure yourself, stepping towards the front desk. you see a lady, her mid-forties at least. typing rapidly at her computer. "Excuse me, ma'am," you say softly, you watch as the lady's typing comes to a swift halt.

"yes?" she says, rather rudely, still looking at her computer.

Blinking, a little bit held back from shock "Hi, I'm here to see Red? I-I'm l/n y/n." The lady soon lets out a chuckle, turning away from you, she opens up a drawer and pulls out a paper. Pulling at the paper, she grabs a pen and writes your name down and hands you a name tag sticker.

As you examined the sticker more closely, you couldn't help but cringe at its childish design. Tiny caricatures of pro-heroes adorned the borders of the "Hi, my name is!" label, and you felt a pang of embarrassment as you peeled it off and quickly slapped it onto the left side of your chest, right over your heart. It was a small gesture, but it hurt your pride to have to wear something so unprofessional.

"Please walk into that room over there...and also, word of advice, you should start wearing all black," the lady smirks, taking her hands and running them down her body. showing you that she is in fact, wearing all black. Looking down at your white shirt, you face heats up from your embarrassment. "may I ask why?" you say. The lady continues to do her work, not even giving you a look of acknowledgement.

Nodding, you give a polite bow and head into the waiting room. As you walk into the room, you're filled with shock. the room was quite large...but there was only one seat? Deadpan in the middle of the room, the metal chair sits unharmed. you laugh out of nervousness, the sight of the chair makes the embarrassment you felt merely seconds ago wash away.

Walking to the seat, you sit and patiently wait. The sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing, at the white noise, fills your eardrums. you quietly tapped your fingertips against your briefcase to the imaginary beat in your head. looking around, all you see is the grey carpeting and white walls, and the tv straight ahead of you.

You waited for a good 30 minutes in silence, distracting yourself on your phone as you waited, and waited, and waited. You constantly kept checking your messages, hoping for another anonymous message, but was left with a dry phone.

letting out a sigh, you frown. "is this some joke?" looking around the room, you spot a security camera behind you in the corner of the room. it's blinking red light flashing into your eyes, turning around you ponder to yourself.

"This must be a joke, that's why everyone has been laughing at me this whole time. I should've never came here," defeated, you began to gather your things. As you stood up to head for the door, the lights soon cut off. you let out a yelp, walking in the dark your hands extend out for the chair behind you, soon with a sigh you sit down. The tv you saw soon cuts on, a bright white screen shines and takes over the whole room.

"WELCOME L/N Y/N!" the screen says blankly, the text blinking on and off, if this was supposed to invoke excitement, it's doing the bare minimum. you stare at the screen and wait for anything else, but the screen soon goes black. another minute in the dark passes by as you sit in your seat absolutely dumbfounded.

The screen turns on again, this time there's faint music sounding from it. soon you see a random person on the screen, probably a paid actor. "hello there fellow newbie! Welcome to Dynamight Riot Hero's Headquarters! Today, I'll be with you along the ride as we both become secretaries!" the actress, obviously way too happy to be here inquiries.

after watching the 10-minute-long do's and don't's video, the screen blinks to white again. squinting your eyes at the bright light, the black sans serif font shows on the screen again.

KEY REMINDERS:

DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE A SECRETARY!

BE A GOOD WORKER!

ALWAYS BE ON TIME!

AND MOST OF ALL: WORD HARD!!

soon after the screen turns off, a couple of seconds go by and the room lights flash back on, you hiss as you cover your eyes so you don't get flash-banged for the fifteenth time. eyes still covered, you hear a door open and footsteps walk towards you.

uncovering your eyes, you look towards the floor to adjust to the bright white lighting. "so sorry, just give me a second!" you nervously chuckle. "don't worry, take your time!" the voice says politely.

wait, that voice.

It's the man you saw yesterday! Your hand soon uncovers your eyes and you look up. "It's you-" eyes shooting wide, your hand flings towards your mouth.

Red Riot?

"ah, guilty as charged! Happy to see me and not some creep aren't ya? You really need to have a better guard, I could've just been anybody!" he laughs. A frown soon shows on your face, "so you were the guy at the ramen restaurant? Why the hell was you there?" you growl. The pro-hero frowns playfully at your attitude.

"tone, little miss! that isn't a way to talk to your new boss. you know, I thought we let in a complete stranger for a second! you look so different when your face isn't soaked with tears and runny mascara." he jabs at you with a mischievous grin which makes you roll your eyes.

"Whatever. And Boss? Dynamight's my boss!" you argue. Red Riot rolls his eyes at your words, "Last time I checked, my name is out on that building and in that shitty little video you just watched." He says, somehow sounding so polite cursing at you. "And you're gonna wish you worked for me and instead of him by the end of the day"

looking at him, your frown never left your lips, "can we start now?" you say.

"Sure! right this way!" he says, walking away from you, you hurriedly grab your bags and walk alongside him. before you could reach the door the hero turns and blocks your way from seeing the other side.

"Also, uh...wear all black next time." he says, his eyes travel down your figure, and you bite your lips in embarrassment. "why?" you ask. "Because it is a thing we do here, we want everyone to be seen as equals to us, we are all people here at the end of the day, hence we all wear the same thing. Plus, it's because we say so and it looks cool." he chuckles to himself at his last words, turning around he walks away.

As you walked into the office setting, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock and disbelief. Everywhere you looked, it seemed like the people around you were robots going about their tasks with mechanical precision. Everyone wore the same drab black outfits, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of strange joke.

The more you walked, you could feel the eyes of the other employees snapping toward you, their stifled chuckles and whispers following you with every step. It was as if they were all in on some kind of inside joke, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this strange, black-button-down world.

As Red Riot led you around the office, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over you. Here you were, walking alongside one of the most legendary heroes of all time. It was hard to believe that this was actually happening - that you were standing in the same room as Red Riot himself. Despite your nerves, you couldn't stop smiling as you walked, eagerly listening to every word that he had to say. It was as if you were soaking up every moment of this incredible experience, committing it all to memory so that you could remember it forever. As you continued to explore the office, you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget.

"And here's our final stop! The boss's office, the one and only Dynamight's quarters" he says. "you'll be in and out of here often, so get ready for that," he chuckles. you quickly nod at his words, "before I let you in this room, do you have any questions?" he asks. you shake your head no, licking your lips you look forward at the doors. The golden plate shined brightly as it read his name:

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT: かつき ばくご

"Alright then!" soon, the hero bangs on the door. "see you around, fresh meat! by the way, cute sticker" he laughs, walking away from you. You were left standing in shock, did he just leave you here all alone?

"Come in," you hear a voice say. eyes snapping towards the door. You let out a shaky breath. Grabbing the door handle you slowly twist. "don't be a pussy y/n, you wanted this!" you whisper to yourself. Pushing the door open, words couldn't express the emotions you felt at this moment. Looking at your one and only inspiration in front of you, in all his glory.

Dynamight!

The sun was rising outside, casting a golden light over the room and illuminating the blond hair of the number one hero. As he looked into your eyes, you couldn't help but notice the way that his amber irises seemed to glow in the light. It was as if he was lit from within, radiating power and confidence. You took a quick glance at his attire and noticed that he was wearing a simple black shirt and matching sweatpants. It wasn't exactly business casual, but who were you to judge? This man was the number one hero, after all. He could walk in wearing a clown suit and you wouldn't bat an eyelash.

"You're the new hire? Right?" he says, his voice deep and captivating, way calmer than what you've seen on tv as it is early in the morning. You nod your head, the hero guides his hand towards the open seat in front of his desk, you follow and sit in the comfortable leather chair.

"Yes, my name is L/n Y/n!" you spoke softly, "I know." He spits back, you blame it on the early mornings. "Here are some ground rules we need to set in place, firstly..."

As he continued to speak, you found yourself hanging on his every word, completely swept up in his presence. It was almost surreal to be sitting across from the pro-hero, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief. You quickly pinched your thigh, just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

As you looked at Dynamight, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Seeing him in person was a completely different experience altogether - and you couldn't help but think that he was even more attractive up close. Maybe it was the fact that he was being so soft-spoken with you at the moment. How many people had actually seen him like this before? You couldn't help but wonder if this was a rare occurrence, and you silently thanked the heavens and the stars above that you were one of the few lucky ones to witness it.

The way his muscles flex as he holds your résumé–

Wait, how did he get your résumé?

“Excuse me?” You chime in, the pro-hero hangs his head low for a moment. Lifting his head up, he lets out a sigh, “I don’t like to be interrupted…" he looks down at your name tag for a mere moment, "l/n” he says. “I’m sorry I just have a question,” you state.

“Shoot,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his tone.

“How exactly did you get my résumé?” You asked, “What? Did you think we weren’t going to do a background check on you? You could be some psychotic fan for all I fuckin’ know,” he says, the morning rasp in his tone sends you ablaze as heat rises to your face.

“Oh! Right, well I’m not so,” you awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah I know, you’ve gotta…pretty good lookin’ résumé here,” the hero flips through a couple of pages, confirming his words.

You couldn’t believe it, the Dynamight called you qualified for the job! “Thank you so much! It means a lot to me that–“

“Okay listen, l/n, it’s early in the morning, and me and my partner just came back abroad from a goddamn mission. So imagine how I feel sitting here at this desk talkin’ to you and filling out these papers instead of in my bed sound fuckin’ asleep. I’m gonna need you to tone it down alright?” He says, his tone raises as he grows irritated at your chipper attitude.

Blinking you bow in your seat, “I’m sorry Mr. Dynamight!” You spoke softly. “Don’t call me that, please just…don’t.” The hero rises from his seat and walks towards the door, you quickly stand up and follow suit.

“What should I call you then?” You spoke, his back facing towards you, the man let out a deep sigh, his palm cradling his neck. Rubbing the sensitive spot as he quietly hisses in pain.

“Just call me Dynamight, I don’t need people to go around calling you a lost puppy looking for their owner with the damn honorifics,” he says.

A brief moment of silence enveloped the large office, as the sound of the ticking clock grew increasingly louder with each passing second. Suddenly, Dynamight broke the stillness with a deep, audible sigh, turning to face you with a look of slight exasperation on his face. It was clear that he had a lot on his mind and a lot to worry about. And it seems like you're not making it any easier.

“When you came up here to this room, I hope you noticed why everyone was laughing at you. I want you to take what you went through into deep analysis…l/n.” He says, tone sharp and crude as his eyes bore into your being.

“Why’d you sit in that waiting room with only one fuckin’ chair? Eh?” He says, a hint of humor in his tone. Your frown at him, looking down you try to really think back as to what happened.

“I’m sorry, Dynamight—I’m not sure.” You spoke, this makes the hero frown. “The reason why—is because every secretary that has worked for me, has quit.”

oh.

Swallowing your spit, you nod understanding the real reasoning behind the dirty looks and laughs. “Every single secretary that has been under me quits in no less than three months you wanna know why? Because of me.” He says as a sinister smile tugs at his lips, almost as if he’s proud of it.

“Well…how do you know that I’m not different?” You mumbled. The hero lets out a chuckle, because—I got a feeling you won’t last a month. You can prance around here with your happy attitude and white button-down, but I and you both know that you’re supposed to wear black.”

Why the hell does wearing black matter so much here?!

“So you’ve already defied me once, you get three strikes, no if, and's, or but's about it. And we both know what happens when you get to strike three,” he says smugly. “Don’t we?” He asks. Frowning, you hung your head low to avoid his fiery gaze.

“Yes…Dynamight, we do.”

You couldn't deny the fact that you were a little bit scared about what the future held for you here. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you walked through the office. You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, even if it meant dealing with a difficult boss or two. After all, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way, as long as it meant being able to take this incredible opportunity.

“Good,” he says, his smile drops and he soon opens the door, letting it slam onto the wall. This makes you jump, you quickly gather your things and follow behind.

You watch as all the employees ride from their seats and greet the hero. But he doesn’t give as much as a mumble back in reply.

“You’re going to be following me around for the day, can you do that task?” He asks, you nod and speak, “Yes, Dynamight I can.”

You were happy to be alongside the hero, he was your inspiration, your happiness, your sadness, but little did you know from now on.

You’d hate his guts.

HEY GUYS! Honestly did not expect for this to blow up, thanks so much for the kind words! ALREADY CLOSE TO 600 FOLLOWERS? It’s literally been two days you guys are crazy!! I wanted to make sure that I got this done by today, even though this literally took me forever to complete.

I have so much on the way, trying out a different format for my theme. Hope you guys take notice in it. Till then!

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

❥ : @skeletonblush @smolbeanzzz @gold24fish @stablecreator93 @itgetzweird08 @xo-evangeline @akqsa-xxi @gaby-11 @suchagoodgirlxoxo @r-ans @hunny-hotline @superkittywonderland @jolynegf @sad0nion @nar00 @gingerbread-ginza @noxva08 @xaslieex

[zvaigzdelasas]

While most Ukrainians battled against Germany during the war, it’s well known that the western region of the country collaborated with the Third Reich — and that thousands of those involved were allowed to resettle in Canada. [...]

When Anthony Rota, [...] introduced Hunka during Zelenskyy’s Sept. 22 visit, he called him a “veteran from the Second World War who fought for Ukrainian independence against the Russians and continues to support the troops today.”

And Hunka made the argument himself after Russia invaded his homeland last year. “In the last war, I joined the Ukrainian underground to fight Russia, so I was fighting the same people they’re fighting now,” he told a reporter covering a peace vigil in North Bay, Ontario, in March 2022. “Nothing has changed there. The same enemy. First Stalin was there and now this idiot,” he said, referring to Russian President Vladimir Putin. [...]

In a post for the SS Galichina veterans’ blog Combatant News, Hunka wrote that 1941 to 1943 — after Germany invaded Ukraine and before Hunka enlisted — were the happiest years of his life. He also recalled eagerly awaiting “the legendary German knights” to come and attack “the hated Poles,” using a slur for Polish people, in 1939.

Captioned photos from the blog show Hunka during SS artillery training in Munich in December 1943 and in Poland around the time of a visit by Nazi mastermind Heinrich Himmler. “I know that if I ordered you to liquidate the Poles … I would be giving you permission to do what you are eager to do anyway,” Himmler said during that visit, according to several historical accounts. Now, the Polish minister of education is looking into whether Hunka can be extradited and prosecuted for what happened during the war.[...]

[After the war,] Hunka made his living in the aircraft industry, working his way up to inspector at DeHavilland Aircraft in Toronto. After retirement, he visited Ukraine nearly every year, according to a profile of him in a University of Alberta newsletter announcing the donation made in his honor by his sons. The profile said he also served as president of the parish council of St. Volodymyr Ukrainian Catholic Church in Thornhill, Ontario.[...]

In his mea culpa, Rota made it sound like Hunka was a constituent from his district [...] whom he did not know much about. “This initiative was entirely my own,“ Rota said[...]

But Rejean Venne, an independent Canadian journalist, wrote in his Substack newsletter this week that Rota and Hunka family members have had numerous chances to cross paths over the years. Among Venne’s examples:

- One of Hunka’s sons, Martin, was chief financial officer of Redpath Mining, a multinational corporation headquartered in Rota’s district. Redpath has contributed to Rota’s campaigns and Rota has provided government funding for recreational facilities operated by Redpath. (The company did not respond to inquiries from the Forward made Thursday.)

- Martin Hunka has also served as chair of the board of trustees for North Bay Hospital, which is located in Rota’s district and which Rota has supported. Hunka’s name can no longer be found on the hospital’s website and social media posts. (The hospital did not respond to a request for comment emailed Thursday.)

- North Bay Pride, an LGBTQ+ organization, gave an award to Rota nine months after Yaroslav’s granddaughter Leshya Lecappelain joined its board of directors. In 2022 and 2023, North Bay Pride received more than $100,000 in funding from Rota. (Asked about this, a spokesperson for North Bay Pride said Lecappelain had not been on its board for several years.)

“Rota’s response that this was a last-minute request doesn’t add up,” Venne said in an email interview. “The Hunka family appears well connected in Rota’s district.”

The Forward could not determine whether Hunka and Rota met before he was honored at Parliament. Rota and others at the House of Commons did not respond to several requests for comment sent Wednesday and Thursday. Efforts to reach Yaroslav, Martin and Peter Hunka, Lecappelain and other members of the family for comment were also unsuccessful.[...]

On Wednesday, the University of Alberta said it would return the CA$30,000 endowment that Hunka’s sons donated in 2019 in their father’s honor. The money was intended to fund research at the school’s Canadian Institute for Ukrainian Studies. But Per Anders Rudling, a university alumnus and expert on Ukrainian nationalism who teaches at Sweden’s Lund University, said the Hunka fund is just “the top of an iceberg.” In an email to the Forward, Rudling said the University of Alberta has “much larger endowments” honoring other figures connected to the Waffen SS unit. The “most problematic,” he said, is the Volodymyr and Daria Kubijovych Memorial Endowment Fund [Editors note: archive link - also "matched two-to-one by the Government of Alberta"] At CA$450,000 — about $334,000 — it’s 15 times larger than the Hunka fund the university is returning.[...] In a Facebook post Thursday, Rudling also questioned university endowments named for other Galichina Division veterans, including Roman Kolisnyk, Levko Babij and Edward Brodacky. Pointing to research he published in The Journal of Slavic Military Studies [Editors note: 1, 2], Rudling said, “I have tried to raise this issue in the past, to no avail.”

Asked about Rudling’s concerns, Michael Brown, a spokesperson for the University of Alberta, reiterated a statement in which interim provost Verna Yiu said the school is “reviewing its general naming policies and procedures, including those for endowments, to ensure alignment with our values.” Yiu also expressed the school’s “commitment to address anti-Semitism in any of its manifestations, including the ways in which the Holocaust continues to resonate in the present.” The honors given to SS Galichina fighters extend beyond academia. One of the University of Alberta’s endowments is for its former chancellor Peter Savaryn, another SS Galichina member. In 1987, Savaryn was awarded the Order of Canada, among the nation’s highest honors, bestowed by Canada’s governor general, the representative of the British Crown. Mary Simon, the current governor general, has condemned the Hunka scandal as “a shock and an embarrassment.”[...]

When the Hunka endowment was announced in 2020, the university said it would fund research on two “leaders of the underground Ukrainian Catholic Church,” Cardinal Josyf Slipyj and Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky. (A metropolitan is akin to a bishop.) Slipyi was a deputy in Ukraine’s 1941 self-proclaimed government, which pledged to work closely with Germany under Hitler’s leadership. Slipyi also assigned chaplains to SS Galichina and celebrated the unit’s inaugural Mass. After the war, the Soviets sent him to gulag prison camps. But Sheptytsky’s legacy is layered [sic]. He helped “dozens of Jews find refuge in his monasteries and even in his own home,” according to Yad Vashem, while also supporting “the German army as the savior of the Ukrainians from the Soviets.”

Harvard University also houses a Ukrainian Research Institute. Asked, after Alberta’s announcement, whether that institute’s funding would be scrutinized for Nazi ties, the university said in a statement that the institute had never received money from the Hunkas, nor had it received donations designated for research related to SS Galichina. Harvard did, however, in 1974 establish a fellowship and faculty position in European studies with money from a foundation named for Alfred Krupp, who was convicted of war crimes for using slave laborers from Auschwitz to build and work in a factory.[...]

In Canada, questions about the Ukrainian immigrants’ past dogged them for decades, and in 1985, the country launched a Commission of Inquiry on War Criminals, known as the Deschênes Commission. Investigators were mostly limited to considering evidence gathered in Canada, and ultimately they came to the controversial conclusion that the Galichina Division “should not be indicted as a group” and that “mere membership” in the division was insufficient to justify prosecution or revoke citizenship.

This week, as Trudeau apologized for the Hunka salute, B’nai Brith Canada called for the full release of the commission’s report, which had been heavily redacted, along with other Holocaust-era records, in order to “restore public trust in our institutions.” “Canadians deserve to know the full extent to which Nazi war criminals were permitted to settle in this country after the war,” the group said Tuesday[...]

Why would Hunka’s family risk his humiliation, at age 98, by putting him under a spotlight? Did they not realize how his military record would be perceived and portrayed? “It’s arrogance. It’s not naiveté,” said Jack Porter, a research associate at Harvard’s Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies and himself a Jewish child survivor of the Holocaust, born in Ukraine. “They know what their father did,” he said. “It’s hubris, it’s chutzpah. They rationalize that these men were fighting communism. If a few Jews were killed, they also were communists.”[...]

More than 2.5 million Ukrainians died fighting against Germany. “There were many good Ukrainians; they should not all be stigmatized,” he said.

But he said veterans who fought under the Nazis like Hunka and his compatriots have been emboldened by the whitewashing of their history, especially since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine last year. “They’ve been hiding in plain sight,” he said. “They’ve been there for 60 years and nobody has touched them, so of course they feel OK.”

29 Sep 23

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 21

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a man in Lena’s office.

That in itself was nothing unusual of course, but right now the person who was supposed to be in Lena’s office was Kara, and dealing with whatever this was was going to eat into the half hour that had been set aside in her diary for their appointment.

She looked him up and down as discretely as she could, trying to place him. Was he an employee? A new business partner or trustee who would be offended if she didn’t recognise him?

But the man was holding a notebook and recorder, and his clothing and general demeanour screamed ‘press’ rather than ‘corporate executive’, so it seemed unlikely. She offered him a smile that was both polite and slightly frosty, finding a balance between letting this man know that just wandering into the CEO’s office in a major multi billion dollar corporation was not acceptable etiquette, while avoiding burning any bridges with whatever newspaper he was representing.

‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t take walk in appointments, and I actually have a meeting about to start. If you could just go out to the front desk, I’m sure my assistant would be happy to schedule some time in for you later in the week, Mr…?’

The man returned her smile, his own unctuous and insincere in a way that set Lena’s teeth on edge.

‘That would be with me, Ms Luthor. William Dey, scheduled for 4pm.’

William Dey?

Lena glanced back at her computer screen, clicking into her calendar to check if she had somehow mixed up her appointments, though after all the conversations she and Kara had had about him, she knew she would have remembered if the name William Dey had appeared anywhere in it.

But there it was:

4.00 – 4.30pm, interview with Catco magazine

It didn’t actually specify that the interview was with Kara at all, Lena had just assumed it would be because it was always Kara. She tried her best to swallow down the bubble of disappointment that rose in her throat on realising that the pleasant half an hour with her friend she had been looking forward to all day was not going to materialise after all. If nothing else, this would at least be an interesting opportunity to get the measure of the man she had heard so much about for herself.

‘My apologies Mr Dey, I had assumed this appointment would be with my usual contact at Catco. Was Ms Danvers unavailable this afternoon?’

‘Would you have preferred to speak to Kara Danvers?’ William shot back without bothering to answer the question. He dropped a couple more points in Lena’s estimation, though she kept her own response neutrally polite.

‘Well, we have built up a working rapport over the years, yes. I've always appreciated the continuity it provided in my contact with Catco.’

William smiled again, but there was no warmth to it. It was the sort of look that suggested that she had just stepped into a trap he had set for her, and the edge of smug triumph to it reminded her disconcertingly of Lex. She was going to have to be more careful with this man than she had realised.

‘May I ask the subject of this interview?’

Again, her question was ignored, and instead William pushed ahead with what had clearly been his reason for asking about Kara in the first place.

‘You say that you prefer to work with Ms Danvers. That’s interesting. According to my sources it’s not that long since you had her barred from the premises, with a note that security was to escort her out the moment she arrived. I understand that that actually happened on at least-’ here he checked his notes, but Lena could tell the gesture was more to demonstrate that he had notes than because he needed a reminder of the number. ‘-Three separate occasions. That doesn’t sound like the kind of set up you would have for your favourite interviewer.’

Lena’s eyes narrowed and she straightened in her chair, her body instinctively switching into fight mode.

‘Did you come here to interview me about my working relationship with Kara Danvers, Mr Dey? Because I don’t see how that’s relevant to you or anyone else apart from Kara and myself.’

‘No, I didn’t. But I do find it interesting, and potentially pertinent to the subject I did come here to discuss with you.’

‘Which is what, precisely?’

‘What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Andrea Rojas?’

First Kara and now Andrea? Was this going to turn out to be some gossip piece about her sexuality? Was he going to bring up her visit to Violet’s next?

Slimy little man.

Lena glared back at him, dialing up the ice in her voice from crisp late autumn morning to mid-winter blizzard.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Andrea Rojas. A few months ago you sold Catco to her, very suddenly, without any of the staff knowing the sale was coming. Coincidentally, that was around the same time you barred Kara Danvers from the L-Corp premises. I wanted to know why you did that.’

About the sale then? Well that was fine. She was under no obligation to explain her personal reasons, and if he was looking for a business scandal he wouldn’t find one.

‘Andrea is an old friend and a business associate, and if you look into the matter you will find that everything about the sale was entirely above board and by the book. Now, please be so good as to tell me what exactly this article you’re writing is about, or I shall have to ask you to leave.’

William stood a little straighter, putting back his shoulders and meeting her eye as he answered, scrutinising for her reaction.

‘I’m investigating the disappearance of Supergirl. And I think you and Andrea Rojas know something about that.’

It was so far from what she had been expecting that if Lena had been anyone but a Luthor in that moment she might have let her shock show on her face. Instead she raised a sceptical eyebrow, falling back on years of social training to layer her tone with just the right hint of bored condescension, as if the situation demanded she be polite to someone who had told her in all earnestness that the world was flat (and indeed that it had become so because she and Andrea had taken a fly swatter to it).

‘Supergirl hasn’t disappeared, she’s in Argo City. I believe there was an interview with her on the subject before she left. I’m sure you could find it on Youtube if you missed it.’

‘Ah yes, the interview. That was interesting as well. It does seem to tie everything up in a neat little bow, doesn’t it? And yet something about it didn’t quite sit right with me. I thought maybe I was imagining things. Then I watched it back alongside other interviews Supergirl has given, and they don’t tally. Across the others there’s consistency, but in this one: her speech pattern, her intonation, even her stance, were all… off. To me that interview looks like a hasty after-the-fact cover up by someone who realised Supergirl’s absence had been noticed, and wanted to keep people from asking inconvenient questions. Perhaps even somebody who owned the company that invented the Image Inducer?’

Lena folded her arms, then wished she hadn’t. Did it look defensive, or merely annoyed?

‘Thousands of people own image inducers. I don’t see how you can suggest that the mere possibility of one being used to commit fraud – which is in itself a highly spurious claim – somehow indicates my direct involvement, or what any of this has to do with the sale of Catco.’

‘No? Okay, let me give you another example. Approximately eight days after the last confirmed sighting of Supergirl, you filed a flight plan for a jet registered in your name to a tiny air field apparently in the middle of nowhere. Do you remember that trip?’

‘I take a lot of trips.’

‘Of course. Well, I’ll refresh your memory. The only thing for miles around this particular air field that might have been of any interest was a bunker. A bunker that, through several layers of shell corporations, was formerly owned by Luthor Corp, as was. I thought that was a bit odd, and decided to pay it a visit. Do you know what I found there Ms Luthor?’

How the hell had he found out her flight plan, let alone the bunker?

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’

‘Nothing. Or at least that was clearly the intention – the entire place had been stripped almost completely bare. But there was one thing I found curious. This was caught on what appeared to be an operating table, in a room that looked a lot like a cell.’

William pulled something from inside his jacket and laid it on Lena’s desk.

A ziplock bag.

At first glance it appeared to be empty, but when she looked closer Lena realised that it contained a single strand of long, blonde hair.

Kara’s hair .

He was putting two and two together and getting five, but all the same, he was uncomfortably close, and they had had no idea. As far as Lena and the DEO had known, their story about Supergirl’s visit to Argo City had been more or less universally accepted, and earlier panic over her apparent disappearance had seemed to settle down. But now this. Not only an investigation into the disappearance of Supergirl, but an investigation by Kara’s coworker. And one that had led him straight to Lena.

She wanted to have security come and escort him out her office so that she had space to take it in and think about what to do next, but as long as William was willing to keep talking, she needed to let him. He was giving her far more of what he knew – or thought he knew – than she was giving in return, and the more information she had the better equipped she would be to deal with him.

She leaned back in her seat, deliberately casual, and gave him a considered look.

‘You’re talking as though all these things you’ve just told me are connected somehow, but I don’t see it. Honestly, this all sounds like rather an elaborate conspiracy theory, and you still haven’t explained how exactly you think Andrea Rojas or Kara Danvers fit into this little picture you’re painting, let alone what it is you think I’ve done with Supergirl, or why on Earth I would want to… what, kidnap her? You seem to have done your homework, so you must know that I’ve had a very positive and well documented working relationship with Supergirl for years.’

‘That’s true, I found plenty out there about you and Supergirl. But then there was plenty to suggest that your brother Lex was best friends with Superman once, and we all know how that turned out. Perhaps the two of you share a family failing. Or perhaps you’re working together.’

Lena forced a laugh that she was almost sure sounded genuine.

‘You’re even more delusional than I thought if you believe I would ever work with Lex. You do know that my testimony was part of what helped put him in prison in the first place, don’t you?’

‘I do. I also know that he was granted a mercy furlough on the grounds that he was dying, then after a short time in your care he apparently made a full recovery, and yet he never made it back to prison. Then you made the decision to sell Catco to Andrea Rojas, who immediately turned it away from hard hitting journalism to pop fluff, just in time for her to have established a new precedent before the city’s most prominent Superhero goes missing and she chooses to speculate about potential sex scandals rather than reporting on it seriously. Add to that your unexplained jaunt to the bunker where I found what appears to be Supergirl’s hair in an abandoned cell and your strange treatment of the one reporter you previously gave open access to, and it all starts to look pretty damning. I don’t know yet exactly how the pieces fit, but when you put together you, your brother, Andrea Rojas and whatever you’re doing to manipulate Kara Danvers into telling the stories you want told… well. That’s one hell of a coincidence, and I don’t believe in coincidences. I am telling you all this to make clear to you that I have enough information to run with this no matter what you say. But, I thought it was only fair to give you the opportunity to tell your side of things first. So, Ms Luthor. Do you have any comment to make?’

Lena’s first instinct was, ridiculously, to push back on the claim that she was manipulating Kara into writing false stories. Clearly he didn’t know her at all if he thought that Kara Danvers could be so easily bought or blackmailed: she had demonstrated on more than one occasion that she would rather quit than compromise her morals when it came to reporting, and every word she had written about Lena had been her own. But as much as it rankled, the mark on Kara’s reputation was hardly the main issue here, and addressing it would be as good as confessing to the rest.

For a moment she allowed herself to imagine pressing the silent alarm on the underside of her desk that would summon security to remove Mr Dey from the premises instead. Given his accusations she would be well within her rights to do so, but as satisfying as that might be in the moment it would be counter productive. He had made it clear that if she chose not to comment he would go ahead with his version of the story, and she, Andrea and maybe even Kara would be implicated as part of a conspiracy. Even if it was swiftly debunked, just the suggestion of fowl play would be enough to restart the missing Supergirl hysteria and draw far more attention to all of them (to Kara) than would be safe or desirable.

She could tell him the full truth and clear her name beyond question , but she would never compromise Kara like that. William Dey was an unknown entity (and, in Lena’s entirely objective opinion, a smug asshole) , and there was no way she was going to trust him with the truth of Supergirl’s secret identity, or even enough of it to risk him putting the pieces together himself.

There was no time to come up with a watertight, fully convincing lie when he was standing there with his recorder in hand, waiting for her to say something.

There was only one option left.

She sighed, and beckoned him forwards.

‘Please take a seat. I’m afraid there’s more to this than you realise, and there are some people you will need to talk to.’

William sat and placed his recorder on the desk between them.

‘I should just mention, I have a fail safe set up, and if I don’t disable it within an hour everything I have on this story will be emailed to a dozen global news outlets automatically. Just in case you were thinking of doing anything to… keep me quiet.’

‘I would ask what exactly you take me for, but I think you’ve made that perfectly clear, so let me assure you that I have no intention of murdering you. Because no, I have not kidnapped Supergirl, nor am I conspiring with Lex, Andrea or Kara against her or anyone else. But… there is more to Supergirl’s absence than a vacation to Argo. I’m not at liberty to tell you any more than that without input from my… associates. If you wait here for a few minutes, I will call them to come and join in this conversation. Alright?’

‘I’d prefer it if you called from here.’

‘I’m sure you would. I’ll be back in five minutes.’

Lena made sure her computer screen was locked, and then left the room with as much composure as she could muster. As she passed Jess’ desk she leaned down to whisper ‘please keep an eye on the man in my office. Make sure he doesn’t start rifling through anything, and if he tries, or if you feel threatened in any way, have security come, but don’t let him leave. It’s of the utmost importance that we finish our conversation.’

Jess swallowed, alarmed by the ominous and highly unusual request, but after all the time they’d worked together she trusted Lena, so she didn’t question her or protest. She nodded and murmured in similarly hushed tones ‘yes Ms Luthor’, before getting up to stand watch by the office door.

Lena moved quickly after that, retreating to a seldom-used conference room a little way down the corridor and activating her auditory scrambler as she dialed Alex’s number.

It rang.

And rang.

Come on Alex, the one time I really, really need you to pick up...

Finally, just before voicemail was about to kick in, Alex answered.

‘Lulu? What’s up?’

‘Is Katie with you?’

‘Yep.’

‘Shit. Alex, we have a situation. Can you get away?’

‘One moment please.’

The line went muffled as Alex put her hand over the receiver and spoke to someone else, then the sound of footsteps and a door closing.

‘Okay, I’m alone. What’s the matter?’

‘I have William Dey in my office right now, with a story ready to run on the disappearance of Supergirl.’

‘Fuck, seriously? What about the Argo story?’

‘He doesn’t believe the interview was really Supergirl. He thinks it was an image inducer, and that I am behind it all, with the help of Andrea, Lex and, unwittingly, Kara. He says he will run with the story whatever I say, but is giving me the chance to tell my side. If he doesn’t report back in an hour, apparently he’s set something up to send what he’s already gathered to news outlets globally.’

‘Okay, I’m on my way right now, I’ll have J’onn meet me there too. Are you free to stay on the line so we can work out what to tell him or do you have to go back in there?’

‘Jess is keeping an eye on him, and will get security involved if he starts snooping or tries to leave. I have maybe two more minutes, but then I’d better get back or he’ll get suspicious. Well, more suspicious.’

In the background Lena could hear the sound of Alex’s running feet, then the slam of a car door and a motor starting up, before the phone switched from handset to earpiece and the ambient noise diminished.

They spent a hurried couple of minutes workshopping an explanation that would be sufficient to throw William off the trail – just enough truth to be believable, with enough fabrication to protect Kara’s identity and keep things as safe as they could in the circumstances. It wasn’t perfect, but there was no time for anything more, and they hoped that the presence of an ‘FBI’ Director would lend weight to their story that Lena alone might not have had. She kept an eye on her watch throughout, and as soon as the second minute was up she said a hasty goodbye to Alex and returned to her office and William Dey.

She felt more composed now that she had something resembling a plan, but i t was still a very long, very uncomfortable ten minutes while they waited for ‘Lena’s associates ’ to arrive. It turned out to be surprisingly difficult to make idle small talk with a man who had just accused you of conspiracy, kidnap and possibly murder, or at the very least willingness to commit murder to cover up the rest of it. It cast something of a pall over the meeting, and s ilence filled the room like a thick fog between them, oppressive and un dispersable .

William fidgeted with his notebook.

Lena pretended to be absorbed by something that wasn’t there on her computer screen.

Out in the wider office a phone rang and was answered.

Another minute struggled by.

When at last the door opened, Lena made eye contact with Alex and felt relief sweep through her like cool rain after a blistering drought. She wasn’t alone anymore.

‘Thank you for joining me on such short notice Director Danvers. This is Mr William Dey of Catco Magazine. Mr Dey, this is Direct Danvers of the FBI and her associate Mr J’onn J’onzz.’

Alex held up her ID card to prove her identity, her expression deadly serious.

‘Mr Dey. I hear from Ms Luthor that you have been investigating Supergirl.’

‘I have. I don’t believe she’s really gone to Argo, and-’

‘You are meddling in extremely sensitive matters of national security. It would be best if you were to drop this investigation immediately and allow us to do our job.’

William looked mildly daunted by the grim faced FBI agent in front of him, but he didn’t back down.

‘With all due respect Director Danvers, if something has happened to Supergirl, the people have a right to know. I would also like to know how Ms Luthor fits in.’

‘I told you, I didn’t kidnap Super-’

Alex held up a hand to stop her, and Lena subsided, allowing her friend to take the lead.

‘Ms Luthor is assisting us and was not involved in any attempt to harm Supergirl. However… it is true that Supergirl is not on Argo.’

‘I knew it! Has Andrea Rojas taken her? Or Lex Luthor?’

‘No one has taken her.’

‘So where is she?’

Alex sighed.

‘Mr Dey, this is all off the record, is that understood? We have a sensitive situation here, and the last thing this city needs is mass panic, or to be viewed as a vulnerable target by anyone looking to take advantage of Supergirl’s absence. Freedom of the press is one thing, but sharing this story recklessly could get people killed, and I don’t think you want that.’

‘So you’re asking me to cover this up. Is that what you’re saying?’

‘I am asking you to consider the consequences of your actions, and whether having a good story that will earn you some kudos at work for a couple of weeks is worth risking lives over, including Supergirl’s if this hampers our ability to do our work. There is a lot more than a story at stake here.’

William chewed his lip, considering.

‘Alright. Suppose I agree to hold this story for now. When Supergirl does return, I want an exclusive interview with her. As soon as there is no longer a risk to her or the city from the truth being out there, I want all the details, no holds barred. Is that a deal?’

‘Supergirl speaks for herself, I can’t promise you her interview. However, I can agree to give you an interview myself, along with the project team working to bring Supergirl back. And I will ask Supergirl if she will speak to you as well. Will that suffice?’

‘I suppose that’s fair. But I also want to know where Supergirl is now.’

‘I assumed you’d say that. If you’re willing to sign a statement agreeing to the terms we’ve just laid out and confirming that you will end any further investigation into this, I will tell you as much as I can at this stage.’

William was slightly more reluctant to put it in writing, but after a bit more back and forth he agreed, and Lena printed out the modified NDA form that Alex emailed over to her for him to sign. That done, Alex explained that Supergirl was currently on a parallel Earth, and while she was safe, she had so far been unable to return. Lena was working with the FBI to create a gateway that would bring her back, but in the meantime they needed to maintain peace in National City and avoid panic. It was not that far off the truth, and William seemed to buy it. Lena allowed herself to relax, just fractionally.

When the story was done he glanced guiltily over at her and opened his mouth as if to apologise for his accusation, but, confronted with Lena’s dagger-sharp glare, changed his mind.

Instead he turned to Alex.

‘Just one more thing Director. Danvers. Are you by any chance related to Kara Danvers?’

‘She’s my sister.’

‘And does she know about all this? She’s been helping me with my investigation, so I would have thought she’d have told me I was on the wrong track if she did, even if she couldn’t share the details.’

She’s been helping me with my investigation.

She’s been helping me...

The world shrank down to that single sentence, reverberating round and round, louder and louder until there was no room for anything else.

Kara had been working with William Dey?

After all those conversations they’d had about how he was arrogant, toadying, possibly evil, and now she was working with him against Lena?

Investigating her?

Suspecting her of kidnapping Supergirl?

With a sharp stab she remembered Kara’s ‘project’. How cagey she had been about it. How, now she thought about it, she hadn’t so much as mentioned William Dey since before they went rock climbing .

It was all Lena could do not to gasp with the shock of betrayal that punched her directly in the solar plexus as the truth sank in .

All this time...

Somewhere outside her bubble of pain s he could feel Alex glancing at her, but she didn’t try to meet her look. She stared resolutely at her computer screen, attempting to appear indifferent to the conversation going on in front of her even as tears tried to rise to her eyes .

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

How had she fallen into the same trap twice? Let herself trust the same woman, only to have her break her heart all over again?

She barely heard Alex tell William that of course Kara didn’t know, being related to an FBI agent didn’t give her inside knowledge of their work, but he would need to shut down the investigation at once and tell her that there was nothing to find out.

Lena let it all wash over her.

By sheer force of will she kept herself still and silent throughout the rest of the exchange, until at last J’onn escorted William out of her office.

She waited for Alex to follow them out so she could finally fall apart in peace , but she didn’t. She shut the door behind J’onn, waited a minute for them to get well clear, and then turned back to face the room .

‘Lena…’

‘Please go Alex.’

She spoke the words through clenched teeth and numb lips, barely holding her sob inside but determined not to let it out until she was alone.

But Alex didn’t go. She came round the desk and gripped Lena’s shoulders firmly, forcing her to make eye contact.

‘Lena. Listen to me. I know how that sounded, but we don’t know the full story. I am telling you, there is absolutely no way Kara would suspect you of harming Supergirl. Whatever this is, whatever is happening, that is not it.’

‘What if you’re wrong? What if she’s just been using me all this time and-’

S he choked on the rest of the sentence and had to stop to swallow down the lump in her throat before it stopped her breathing altogether.

‘She hasn’t. Lena, Kara loves you so much. She has never stopped believing in you. Not once. Not even when we had apparently irrefutable evidence that you had committed a crime. When every other person, me included, thought that you really were guilty, Kara never, ever did. She was in your corner every time, and I don’t believe that this is any different. We just need to give her the chance to explain herself.’

‘That’s not true. What about the kryptonite?’

Alex sighed.

‘Okay, yeah, she was freaked out about the kryptonite, because you were making the one thing on Earth with the power to kill her. That still doesn’t mean she thought you were plotting to use it on her, she just didn’t like the idea of any more of it existing, no matter how good your intentions were. But even then, she was pissed at you and she lashed out, but she wasn’t against you.’

‘But she might be, this time. Why would she be helping that bastard investigate me and not tell me otherwise?’

‘I don’t know. That’s why we need to talk to Kara and find out.’

A lex paused, taking in Lena’s clenched jaw, glassy eyes and tightly curled fists.

‘Before that though… I think maybe you need a bit of Lena-style catharsis. Want to go and blow some stuff up with lasers before we call her?’

‘Yeah… I really, really do.’

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

AP’s ubiquitous photographers — the prolific bunch churns out 1.2 million images annually — also don’t manage to capture the shocking scene of Pasternak’s home defaced with what amounts to a murder threat. Instead, the cadre of photojournalists suffice with an image of the German consulate, which was vandalized with red paint, apparently applied in an abstract arrangement, sans red triangles. Like Marcelo’s article, the photograph’s caption also paints over the pro-Hamas imagery, referring to a random splashing of color:

Red paint covers portions of the entrance to the German consulate building, Wednesday, June 12, 2024, in New York. Pro-Palestinian protesters have vandalized locations associated with the Brooklyn Museum and United Nations in New York City, throwing red paint across their entrances in opposition to the ongoing war between Israel and Hamas in Gaza. (AP Photo/Sophie Rosenbaum)

Not only does the caption neglect to note the Hamas-linked graphic, it also ignores that the “locations associated with the Brooklyn Museum” were private homes.

It’s not just Hamas graphics which are subjected to AP’s scrubbing. A pro-Hamas organization also gets sanitized. Here’s how AP’s Marcelo whitewashes the pro-Hamas Within Our Lifetime group:

The protest group Within Our Lifetime and other organizers of that demonstration said the museum is “deeply invested in and complicit” in Israel’s military actions in Gaza through its leadership, trustees, corporate sponsors and donors — a claim museum officials have denied.

He says not a word about the organization’s support for Hamas. According to ADL, Within Our Lifetime

has hosted or co-sponsored at least 78 anti-Israel rallies many of which included explicit support for violence against Israeli civilians by U.S. designated Foreign Terrorist Organizations  Hamas, The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), Hezbollah, the Houthis and affiliated individuals such as Leila Khaled and Hamas’ military wing spokesperson Abu Obaida. WOL also expressed enthusiastic support for Iran’s unprecedented April 13 drone-and-missile attack on Israel. 

Marcelo similarly sluices down Within Our Lifetime’s horrifying and deep embrace of terror at the demonstration outside the Nova Festival massacre last week. His censored account states:

The paint attacks came the same week that Within Our Lifetime organized a large demonstration outside a New York City exhibition memorializing victims of the Oct. 7 Hamas attack on the Tribe of Nova music festival. The group called it “Zionist propaganda” and dismissed the music festival, where hundreds died, as “a rave next to a concentration camp.”

AP spares its readers from the most disturbing aspects from the event. As Times of Israel reported:

 On June 11, Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer denounced the antisemitism of the pro-Hamas crowd outside the Nova Festival exhibit, twice citing those most heinous lines:

What was even worse, or at least adding salt into the wounds was that just a day or two after I visited the exhibit, protestors gathered outside the exhibit chanting repugnant antisemitic phrases, donning banners that read “Long Live October 7th” and “The Zionists are not Jews and not humans.” How low can you go ? Having visited the exhibit and seeing those young people and then knowing and seeing on film what happened to them at the vicious hands of Hamas, and then having people come outside and protest and say “Long Live October 7th” and “The Zionists are not Jews and not humans.” How repugnant. How despicable. How terribly unnerving that humanity could sink that low.

And yet, at this low point for humanity, AP has relegated these repugnant slogans glorifying mass murder to the dustbin of history.

[twopoppies]

Does everyone know Rob Stringer's brother Howard Stringer has been an executive director at BBC since 2012. I'm sure he put in and upholds Louis om-going blacklisting on behalf of Sony/Rob. Dirty games. It's incredible what Louis has achieved.

I… had no idea.

Sir Howard Stringer (born 19 February 1942) is a Welsh-American businessman. He had a 30-year career at CBS, culminating in him serving as the president of CBS News from 1986 to 1988, then president of CBS from 1988 to 1995. He served as chairman of the board, chairman, president and CEO of Sony Corporation from 2005 to 2012.[3] He is also the head of the board of trustees of the American Film Institute and now serves as a non-executive director of the BBC.

x

[drdemonprince]

What's your take on the solidarity camps of students in countries where the colleges are state funded?

I recently got into contact with my local SfP group, which is planning a camp atm, with the goal of getting our college to stop an exchange program with an Israeli university heavily involved in weapon development. But they havent even made that demands to our college. I know the college would refuse those, but I am nontheless worried they are hurrying into building an encampment for the sake of having one. Not the actual focus behind the camps. The main goal of the camp would be to exist in solidarity to others and since our city is small I doubt anyone will hear about it.

Of course I am helping elsewhere to the best of my abilities, but I worry we will put valuable resources into it and ultimately achieve nothing.

Making the camp for the sake of having one is a laudable goal. it is a wonderful thing whenever the people seize the land to return it to public use, and build interdependent networks where food, housing, books, lessons, community, etc are all shared.

Nearly every campus encampment is formed with the understanding that university administration will not agree to demands. The building of encampments is a start of a much larger movement to seize control over the universities -- control that has been systematically taken away from the students and faculty that shape it over the course of the last several decades.

Think about it for a second. How absurd is it that the students whos debt pays for these institutions and the professors whose research, teaching, and publishing shape the intellectual life of these institutions have NO say in what the university does or how it spends the money that they are both responsible for?

what value does an administrator introduce to that equation? why are they even there? why have the number of administrators grown every year while the number of tenure-track and full-time professorships shrinks? why have student representatives been booted off the Board of Trustees in favor of people who do not teach, research, study, or contribute to any of the actual meaningful work of a university in the first place?

Getting campuses to fully stand with Palestine and divest from genocide (and divest from the Israeli apartheid state) is a tall order, because violent colonial Zionism is baked into how these institutions now work. A university today is more of a real estate and investment holding business than it is an institution of knowledge -- and so massive corporations, the military, and settler colonial states and their lackeys have more control over them than the students and professors do. We're an afterthought.

When students form encampments on campus and refuse to budge or even to negotiate with administration, they do so knowing that a far more dramatic upending of the existing power structure is in order. And forming a large, vocal, physically present, interdependent community is a crucial step to having the power and social bonds necessary to take control of our universities back.

Everything is connected. Universities are invested in Israel for the exact same reasons they no longer offer job security to professors and exploit underpaid part-timers for the majority of their teaching labor, closing out entire generations of marginalized scholars from research and publishing or institutional leadership. I know these trends are less stark outside the United States, but they are happening worldwide, and ours is a strong example of what's coming for the rest of the world. So it is GREAT to see students outside the US standing in solidarity with us and seeing that all our struggles are connected.

(To read more about the rise of administrative positions in academia and the loss of influence students and professors have, check out the book The Professor is In by Karen Kelskey).

[princessanneftw]

A rare insight into the usually unreported work of Princess Royal

Visiting military graves of unsung heroes was fitting appointment for perhaps the hardest working member of Royal family

By Victoria Ward for The Telegraph

Of the many war heroes buried in the windswept Dover chalk grassland is one Sgt Maj Charles Wooden, who was awarded the Victoria Cross after saving a fellow soldier’s life under heavy fire during the Battle of Balaclava.

The Princess Royal studied his grave closely as she was told he was “a bit of a drunkard” who had unfortunately met a sad demise.

Suffering from excruciating toothache, he had tried to dislodge the offending tooth with his gun, only to blow his brains out. “The ultimate pain killer,” the Princess, 72, observed drily, with the wry humour that is never in short supply.

Another, Gunner Andrew McDowell, had been blown to bits as he sat with two other soldiers in Dover harbour out of sight but directly in the firing line of a new 42-pound cannon.

The firing party thought someone said “fire” and duly fired. Gunner McDowell’s arm was found in the local town. The Princess peered closely at his newly restored grave, decorated with a cannon. “It’s almost adding insult to injury putting a gun on there, isn’t it?” she remarked.

The Princess, patron of The Remembrance Trust, was at St James’s cemetery, in Dover, Kent, to inspect its latest work restoring the military graves and memorials of those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

It was the second engagement of at least four on her itinerary, but as a royal who opts to get on with her work under the radar, most of it – as always – will go unreported.

However, on Tuesday, The Telegraph was invited to join the Princess as she travelled to Kent for an update on the work of the Trust, of which she became patron in 2021.

Engaged and unguarded, she delighted the small band of charity trustees and council dignitaries with her easy humour and obvious interest. “You can’t fake that kind of fascination,” one observer said later. “She’s great fun and you can talk to her like a normal human being.”

The Princess, accompanied by her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, 68, made a point of chatting to each member of the small gang of around 15 that was on hand to greet her.

Introduced to charity trustee and “tomb expert” Dr Roger Bowdler, she joked: “See tomb, will travel.”

Darren Solley, head of parks and open spaces at Dover District Council, told the Princess he was trialling a new approach to managing the cemetery land by leaving much of it to grow wild, improving biodiversity.

“It’s quite a difficult balance, rewilding,” she commented. “Actually, you do look after it but it doesn’t look like it.”

Warming to the theme, she continued: “You do have to cut it but it’s when you cut it that’s key – and what you do with the leftovers.”

Former corporal Steve Davies, a military grave restorer who has worked with the trust since its inception and preserved six of the seven graves on the Princess’s one-hour tour, proved an enthusiastic and informative guide.

The Restoration Trust returns graves to their former glory while at the same time creating a database spanning more than 200 years.

Founded and chaired by North Sea oil pioneer and former Grenadier Guards officer Algy Cluff, 83, it has a vast remit covering an undefined period up until 1914. He was motivated to help future generations understand the nation’s military past after working on the graves of British troops killed abroad.

Those killed from 1914 onwards have their graves kept by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, funded by the Commonwealth governments, but those killed earlier fall through the cracks, their headstones left to fall to ruin.

One of those whose grave has been lovingly restored is Maj Gen William Sutton, who received the Second China War medal and Companion of the Order of the Bath but who requested none of the usual pomp and circumstance at his funeral and asked to be buried in a common grave alongside soldiers of other ranks.

It was fortuitous then, that of all the well-known faces to visit his resting place almost 160 years after his death aged 56 was the Princess Royal, that least showy and no-nonsense member of the Royal family.

“It doesn’t say who he served with,” the Princess commented as she studied his headstone. “56? I’m surprised he lasted so long.”

Mr Davies ushered her along. “We’ve got to hit the hill now, ma’am,” he said. “Don’t worry, I live on the side of a hill,” came the reply as the Princess ploughed on, stopping to study several other graves along the way.

“Oh, it’s a Sherwood Forester, well, well well,” she said, pausing by one that she was keen to point out to her husband.

When Mr Davies told the Princess that he had queued for 14 hours to see her late mother, Elizabeth II, lying in rest, it prompted a discussion about the merits of certain footwear.

The Princess admitted that the boots that form part of the Blues and Royals uniform were none too comfortable. “Which is why I didn’t volunteer to walk after the Coronation, I was riding,” she laughed.

Later, the Princess and Sir Tim retired for a private lunch at Dover Castle before moving on to the next engagement.

Meanwhile, those who had enjoyed her company that morning were unanimous in their praise.

“She’s got common sense running through her like Brighton Rock,” one said. “But she’s enormous fun and absolutely interested and engaged. One couldn’t hope for a better patron.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Rebecca Crosby at Popular Information:

Major corporations, including Mastercard, Meta, and Coca-Cola, are quietly sponsoring a Canadian conference headlined by Christopher Rufo, a far-right activist and crusader against diversity initiatives. Many of these same companies, however, champion diversity in their public communications.  Rufo is listed as a featured speaker for the Canada Strong and Free Regional Networking Conference 2024, which will be held in Alberta, Canada on September 21. The event, which was first highlighted by DeSmog, is billed as an “enriching exploration of conservatism in Canada.” On X, the organization promoted the event using a photo of Rufo with the text, “Fighting the left and wokism.” 

Rufo has been credited with creating the hysteria around Critical Race Theory (CRT) in educational settings. In 2020, Rufo appeared on Tucker Carlson’s former show on Fox News and called on Trump to end CRT training. Within days, the Trump administration released a memo outlining a ban on diversity training in the government, and Trump issued the executive order shortly after.

When it became clear that CRT is a complex legal theory that is not taught in K-12 schools, Rufo shifted his attention to lambasting diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives. Rufo appeared with Florida Governor Ron DeSantis (R) as DeSantis signed the Stop W.O.K.E. Act, which limits workplace conversations about diversity and race. (That aspect of the law has been enjoined by a federal court as unconstitutional.) Rufo has also been a leader in the crusade to ban discussion of LGBTQ issues in schools. On X, Rufo insinuated that people were attempting to indoctrinate pre-kindergarten students with information about “gender transitioning, exotic pronouns, and simplified Queer Theory.” Rufo has also said that “parents have good reason” to be concerned about “‘grooming’ in public schools.” 

In 2023, Rufo was appointed by DeSantis to the board of trustees at the New College of Florida as part of a right-wing takeover of the liberal arts college. In his newsletter, Rufo bragged that New College was “the first public university in America to begin rolling back the encroachment of gender ideology and queer theory on its academic offerings.” In an interview with the New York Times, Rufo said that New College previously enrolled too many women, which turned it into “a social justice ghetto.” On X, in response to pictures of dozens of books at the college being thrown away, Rufo said, “We abolished the gender studies program. Now we’re throwing out the trash.”  Companies who claim to support diversity are sponsoring the upcoming event promoting Rufo and his ideological agenda. Mastercard, for example, prides itself on being one of the leaders for DEI initiatives among major corporations. Mastercard’s website states that “[d]iversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) are what set Mastercard apart by making us more adaptable, more innovative and more creative.” Mastercard says that DEI “makes us better” and is “part of our core values and underpins everything we do.” 

Why are major corporations sponsoring an “anti-woke” conference in Red Deer, Alberta, Canada featuring right-wing paranoiac Christopher Rufo.

Rufo helped foment the manufactured crusade against “CRT” in K-12 schools, LGBTQ+ inclusion policies, and DEI in businesses.

[ladycharles]

Ottawa friends - as you may know our Pride parade is being heavily attacked for taking a principled stand on Palestine. Through deliberately misrepresenting the statement (shown below) on Palestinian solidarity, the right wing mayor has led a charge that has stripped them of all corporate or government sponsors.

Sadly, our school board was pushed to pull out by extremist trustees. This is very personal to me as I know what it's like going to school without feeling support, and I truly believe that the kids getting a chance to participate should take precedence over petty politics.

If you are from the area please consider signing this letter asking them to reverse their decision.

first link is to add your voice, second is the original statement.

https://capitalpride.ca/capital-pride-statement-in-solidarity-with-palestine/