#collin property tax

[p-oconnor]

Why Is Collin Central Appraisal District Budget Important?

The Collin Central Appraisal District’s budget ensures accurate property valuations and fair tax assessments. Understanding its budget allocation helps homeowners stay informed on local spending. You may find more information by clicking here Collin Central Appraisal District

[oconnor2023]

Collin Central Appraisal District | Collin CAD

Collin County property taxes total $5 billion annually based on these property tax assessments by Collin CAD. To know more https://www.poconnor.com/collin-county/

[mariacallous]

In September of 2022, not long after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, officials from the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) raided and seized several luxury properties in both New York City and Miami. The average person would have had little idea why these particular properties were special; the official register only listed an anonymous Panamanian shell company, one with a mailing address at Madison Square Garden, as the putative owner. But it was later revealed that the DOJ officials were part of KleptoCapture, a special task force created to seize and freeze the assets of Russian oligarchs, and that the true owner of the $70 million property portfolio was Viktor Vekselberg, a Russian-Cypriot billionaire who had been subject to U.S. sanctions for many years. Even though the authorities eventually pieced together the puzzle and located his gargantuan property portfolio, Vekselberg had managed to fly under the radar for years until that point.

The Vekselberg incident illustrates two alarming facts about American real estate. The first is that offshore investors can easily hide their identity by using opaque corporate ownership structures to keep their name off the register. The second is that, because this practice is so common, offshore investment in the real estate sector is likely far greater than what can be measured with public data.

Real estate has always been considered a risky sector, highly vulnerable to money laundering, tax evasion, and corruption. This is because high-value properties offer both a safe store of wealth and an asset that can easily be flipped for the purposes of laundering. It is also a sector that is very rarely subject to the same level of effective due diligence checks or automatic reporting requirements that financial accounts are. The true amount of money laundered through U.S. real estate is unknown, but recent reports by groups like the Anti-Corruption Data Collective and Global Financial Integrity have uncovered at least $2.6 billion worth of cases through both residential and commercial property in recent years.

These risks are amplified even further when the ownership originates offshore, as foreign authorities will struggle to spot instances of tax evasion or corruption when the wealth is hidden in U.S. real estate, with no public transparency of ownership. But to understand the risks that offshore ownership poses, we first need to understand just how much real estate foreigners own in the U.S.

[denimbex1986]

'Irish actors claim they have been treated like the poor relations in the film industry for decades despite big government tax breaks for major studios.

LA-based actor Alan Smyth revealed that Colin Farrell, Ruth Negga and Cillian Murphy have signed a petition for fair and equal pay for native performers and crew.

Over 2,500 people have added their signatures online.

It says the Irish diaspora in the US and worldwide strongly support the efforts of Irish Actors Equity, which is in talks with several government ministers to secure a guarantee “that Irish performers will not be subject to lesser terms and conditions regarding their intellectual property rights than international performers in similar roles”.

“This, unfortunately, has been the case for many years,” it states.

The petition is still open as Irish Equity plans to hold a solidarity rally with the striking SAG-AFTRA union and the Writers Guild of America today.

Smyth, who is from Dundalk, has first-hand experience of the set-up on both sides of the Atlantic. He has reaped the benefits of the American system where actors traditionally got residual cheques whenever their performances are aired.

The threat now, he says, is that the so-called “streamer” networks are imposing drastic cuts to the value of the residuals.

Hence, the strikes.

“It’s a lot worse in Ireland,” said the actor, who has starred in a number of big TV dramas, including CSI: NY and Criminal Minds.

“The system in Ireland is that the Irish cast and crew for the most part, unless it’s Colin or Cillian, are put on buyout contracts so don’t get residual payments.

“The awful thing about it is the Irish Government gives tax breaks to film and TV productions. Within the productions, the Irish cast and crew are paid far less than anyone brought over from England or the US. It’s 100pc discriminatory.

“Colin, Cillian and Ruth Negga have got behind the petition. They know how hard it is until you get to a point where you’re doing really, really well. I can really see how hurtful it is in Ireland.”

Actor Gerry O’Brien lodged a cheque for $800 (€735) yesterday for his role as an Irish man in Pirates of the Caribbean years ago. The payment covers just a quarter of the year.

He got a US contract for the job, rather than the typical Irish buyout one.

In contrast, he has earned just €54 in residuals in the last 20 years here. That was for an RTÉ TV series.

O’Brien said Equity wants a contract for Irish actors like that on offer to their British counterparts. The coveted UK contract sets out minimum pay rates, residual arrangements and other terms and conditions.

Irish production companies offer the buyout contracts on behalf of the major international studios when they are in town, he says.

A Dublin-based actor (27) did not want to be named for fear he would be “blacklisted” when going for jobs.

He has been following the Hollywood strike very closely.

“It shines a light on just how unfair the industry is,” he said.

“Those at the top are earning incredible amounts of money and profit. In a large part, it is due to those at the bottom scraping a living.

“I graduated from drama school in 2017. Last year, I made the most money I ever made working as an actor and that was €14,000. Obviously that is not sustainable.

“If you work on an Irish film, you get paid for the day of work and never see another penny. I routinely sign off my rights for €600 or €700 a day.

“I’m delighted that Cillian Murphy and Colm Meaney are coming out in support of small fry actors like myself.”

Actor Owen Roe has won many theatre awards during his career and his film appearances including Breakfast on Pluto, Intermission, Wide Open Spaces and Michael Collins.

He said actors here are “not prepared to go on strike” but it is an opportunity to inform younger ones of their rights.

“It’s far more competitive as well . There is AI and all those things. The whole buyout situation is not good for us.”

He was glad to see Cillian Murphy and other stars walk out of the Oppenheimer premiere in support of their US union.

“They don’t have to financially, I’d imagine,” he said. “It gives confidence to people who feel they are being exploited.

“I think it will be interesting to see what happens in America. If the whole thing of buyouts and residuals gets sorted. The attitude that we’re cheaper is offensive,” he said.'

[sensitiveuser]

André Léo during the Paris Commune

During the Paris Commune, André Léo wrote for the newspaper La Sociale. She published an article in which she criticized the isolation of Paris and the abandonment of the province. She defends the need not to abandon the peasants of the provincial countryside, necessary to fight to the death against the legitimists so that the Revolution is victorious. It highlights the common interests of the worker and the peasant, equally victims of oppression and capitalist exploitation, in the hope that the provinces and the countryside will follow the example of Paris.

This is the “Appeal to Country Workers” of April 10, 1871:

"Brother, you are being deceived. Our interests are the same. What I ask, you want too; the emancipation I demand is yours (…) To you as to me, freedom, leisure, the life of the mind and the heart are lacking. We are still and always, you and I, the vassals of misery. For nearly a century, peasant, poor day laborer, you have been told that property is the fruit of work, and you believe it. But open your eyes and look around you. Here you are old; you have always worked; all your days have passed, spade or sickle in hand, from dawn to night, and yet you are not rich, and you do not even have a piece of bread for your old age"; "No, brother, work does not give property. It is transmitted by chance, or earned by trickery." She concludes with this slogan: “Land to the farmer, tools to the worker, work for all.” (La Sociale, April 10, 1871).

In La Sociale, André Léo proposes forming committees for propaganda in the provinces, the abolition of taxes (to be replaced by a common contribution), and the opening of credits. In an article published on May 3, she makes these proposals: bring to the office of La Sociale the addresses of provincial socialists, who could make the "Appeal to Rural Workers" known to the peasants; then, I quote, "To send them themselves to their parents and friends in the provinces, immediately if they can; later when postal communications are reestablished, if they have no other means. Today it is necessary. Later, it will always be useful" (La Sociale, May 3, 1871).

Let us note a subject of disagreement between André Léo and the other editors of La Sociale: André Léo opposed the banning of reactionary newspapers. According to her, she justifies herself by the fact that freedom of conscience and expression must be inviolable; moreover, she does not want to reproduce what the kings, the Napoleons, and the conservative republicans have inflicted on the People.

She joined the Montmartre Vigilance Committee and the Union of Women for the Defense of Paris and Care of the Wounded (with Elisabeth Dmitrieff, Thérèse Collin, Nathalie Le Mel, Aline Jacquier, Aglaé Jarry, Blanche Lefebre, Marceline Leloup). On April 21, she signed the Appeal of the Citizens of Montmartre with Anna Jaclard and Sophie Poirier, declaring the foundation of ambulance companies.

As a good socialist activist and in favor of the education of women in order to ensure their emancipation, André Léo joined the Committee for the organization of Education in girls' schools, with Anna Jaclard, Elisée Reclus, Théodore Sapia and Périer. It was a question of putting an end to the ineptitudes of Catholic education in schools. The child must no longer be the property and slave of the authority of the master, and the school must transmit to him knowledge and democratic principles. Obviously, it rejects any distinction of sex in the methods of education !

When the Committee of Public Safety was created, she supported the anti-authoritarian minority of the Council of the Commune.

In an article that she titles "The Revolution without Women", she criticizes the misogyny demonstrated by Dombrowski, who refuses to integrate the ambulance drivers of Montmartre into the army: "Do you know, General Dombrowski, how the Revolution of March 18 was made? By Women. Early in the morning, regular troops had been directed to Montmartre. The small number of national guards who guarded the cannons of the Place Saint-Pierre had been surprised and the cannons removed (...) A few more turns of the wheel, and you would never have been a general of the Commune, citizen Dombrowski!" (La Sociale, May 8, 1871). She adds that republican and revolutionary men, since the period of the Convention, "have demanded that women no longer be under the yoke of priests, and they are displeased to see them as freethinkers. They are happy for them not to work against them, but they reject their help as soon as they want to act." Louis Rossel (who appreciates her or at least respects her) says in a letter that he understands her anger against the invisibility of women within the Commune. It is a question of finding a solution, and André Léo and Victor Jaclard (doctor, Blanquist) agree to found ambulances run by surgeons who have no sexist prejudices! Faced with the attacks against Rossel accused of treason by the Central Committee, André Léo defends him. In an article in La Sociale, she raises these two questions: "Is there therefore a bias to lose what can save the revolution? And to keep what must lose it? » (La Sociale, May 15, 1871). She even had the impression that there was a monarchist plot in the Central Committee, an idea that she would defend at the Congress of Peace and Liberty. She thus demanded an investigation into the activities of the Central Committee, which according to her only sowed disorder. Nevertheless, the Versailles massacre was fast approaching…

During Bloody Week (May 21 to 28), she fought at the barricades of Batignolles, with Louise Michel.

In June 1871, she was the victim of an arrest warrant. She found help from Benoît Malon, with whom she took refuge in Switzerland. In September, she participated in the fifth congress of the League of Peace and Liberty (a liberal organization) in Lausanne. She wrote La Guerre Sociale, which was a virulent critique of Versailles barbarity. Addressing the issue of violence, she criticized Raoul Rigault and Théophile Ferré (both members of the security commission and police delegates), "More than anyone, I have deplored, I have cursed the blindness of these men - I am speaking of the majority - whose stupid incapacity has lost the most beautiful cause". She explained that, as we know, the monarchists had allied themselves with the conservative republicans, out of fear of the proletariat, and of a democratic and social people's republic. André Léo did not have time to finish his speech. This assembly of liberals, who have been fighting against wars in the world since 1867, has no intention of hearing about class struggle. Nevertheless, this congress will have served as a platform for the exiles, and, according to an article in the Belgian newspaper Liberté, "André Léo, with his courageous speech, has made the authorized leaders of the French Republican Party (including Louis Blanc) drink the last of the shame (…) who are happily mourning Paris."

[since0202]

Taking Time—Fifty

The only living girl in New York

Word count: 11,004

September

October

November

December

January

Maya clutched the slender champagne glass in her right hand and took a tentative sip as she glanced around the expansive room dotted with industry and academics alike. She let out a sigh through her nose and glanced around again, feeling wholly overwhelmed in this sea of experts and very much feeling like an imposter when a gentle hand rested on the middle of her back. 

She glanced up and smiled at the tall, solid figure next to her. 

“Ready to wow them?” he said conspiratorially. Maya gave her best smile and nodded. 

“Ready.” He guided her through the throng of people toward a group of important looking city suits. Maya braced herself, pasting that brilliant smile on her face and smoothed out the skirt of her short white dress that flared out around her coppery warm thighs. 

“Arden!” One of the suits pronounced as they approached. “Good to see you!”

“Good to see you,” Arden nodded, his older handsome features pulled into a smile. He glanced down at Maya reassuringly and she had to catch her breath for a moment. That warm reassuring hand shifted a little on her back: “There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

The three suits now laser focused in on Maya and she steeled herself. Shoulders back, head high, warm smile. Look approachable, but not too stiff. Confident, but not too overly full of yourself. That hand disappeared from the middle of her back as Arden now said: 

“This is my second year student, Maya Sunriviere,” he always emphasized her last name with some French twist. It made Maya shift a bit uncomfortably, like she was some sort of fraud. “Maya specializes in sustainable biomechanics that will help improve the green building practices in more rural and indigenous areas. It’s groundbreaking stuff what Collins is teaching these kids and Maya is going to help put it on the map,” Arden shot her a warm look which Maya returned before she turned her attention back to the suits. 

One raised his scotch glass somewhat before he said, “Great stuff.” He was less than impressed but polite nonetheless. Maya gave him her most charming smile and nodded. As she opened her mouth though to pitch, he interrupted her, “Not much of that needed on this coast though, is there? Seems like that’s mostly western go-green propaganda,” he turned to his other suits who chuckled a bit alongside him. Maya pursed her lips, and shifted on her nude heel. 

“Yeah, remember when Remy pitched the green garden effect to Trump tower people? Total disaster,” the other suit scoffed. Maya glanced with alarmed eyes at Arden. He was watching the three men before him with an unreadable look on his face. 

“Actually, I—” Maya tried to butt in, but there was a guffaw from the third suit as he said: 

“They ran the numbers on that thing, did I tell you? Wouldn’t have even scratched the surface of what they’d need to get those green energy credits to offset the property tax. Total waste of concept development and manpower, in my opinion.” 

Arden glanced at Maya, his face urgent as he nodded toward the group of men who were devolving further into laughter and swapping stories of other failed projects poised as ingenious to their development firms. Maya swallowed hard, suddenly feeling ridiculous in her white poofy sleeved Givenchy baby-doll dress. She should have worn pants, and done a sharp cat eye to look formidable. Instead she felt kind of like a chic cupcake, at least that’s what the lady in the store said the other day. 

“Oh, Arden, I forgot to ask the other day, did you get those blueprints greenlit from legal?” The original suit who had interrupted her swiftly changed the subject and Maya felt boxed out. 

She wrapped her other hand around her champagne glass and grimaced, taking a sip as she waited for Ardent to speak. He glanced down at her one last time as if trying to give her one last opening before carrying on with the suits. 

Twenty minutes later, Maya leaned against the bar and caught the eye of the young blonde bartender. 

“Whiskey, neat, splash of water,” Maya grumbled. 

“Yeesh,” Noah said, leaning against the bartop and taking a swig of his Modelo. “That looked like it went…” 

“I fucking blew it,” Maya groaned as the bartender slipped the short glass a whiskey across to her with a sympathetic smile. Maya gave her an apologetic grin and spun to look out across the room. “I feel like a fucking idiot.” 

“Nah,” Noah said, drawing out the sound of his dissent. “It’s probably fine. Professor Arden will smooth things over. You’ll get another shot.” 

“I look like an idiot, I feel like an idiot,” Maya knocked back more whiskey than she meant to and grimaced. “Egh.” 

“Jesus, slow down cowgirl,” Noah took another sip and laughed at her a little. Maya couldn’t help the smile that quirked on her lip in response. “You’ll get another shot. Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. Maya didn’t answer. 

“Did you get to talk to those guys from Horton and Sons?” Maya asked. Noah just nodded, scanning his eyes across the crowd of people. “And?” Maya prompted. 

“I’m a shoe-in. Obviously,” he threw his head back, his hair swishing back in an unapologetically endearing way and Maya rolled her eyes as she smiled over her whiskey glass. 

“Obviously,” she echoed. She looked back to the crowd, but could still feel Noah’s eyes on her. He did that sometimes—just watched her like he was trying to figure her out or something. Or maybe he just thought she was hot. Whatever it was, Maya couldn’t say that it bothered her all too much. It had been awhile since she’d hung out with someone who didn’t seem to think they knew everything about her. 

“Let’s get out of here. You’re done, right?” Noah offered, setting his half finished beer down. “We can go swing by and pick up Beez and head to Carter’s or that one bar you like where we had pasta at like 2 a.m.” Maya was watching Arden laugh and talk to the suits. She’d let him down, she knew that, and she wasn’t used to failing so publicly. 

“No, I should probably stay in case Arden wants me to glad hand, right?” Maya asked uncertainly. This was her first industry event outside of the conference she went to in November. But she had volunteered and spent most of the time running drinks and getting people checked in to the event, rather than making connections. 

“Absolutely not,” Noah said. This wasn’t Noah’s first industry event by any means. He was a year ahead of Maya, a third year, and he’d been to dozens of these things at this point and secured internships over the past two years in which to get his foot in the door. “This thing is going to be over in like twenty minutes tops. These guys roll the party into strip clubs and bars on the west end to really get hammered. The gladhanding is basically done. Unless…” Noah paused and Maya shot him a look. 

“Unless what?” she raised an eyebrow at him and downed the rest of her whiskey, reveling in the burn. 

“Unless you’re…you know…getting picked up,” Noah said with an eye roll. Maya let out a small laugh and set her glass down on the bartop before digging into pockets of her dress for her phone. 

“Obviously,” Maya mocked. She typed a quick message and saw the three dots pop up quickly in response. “Alright, let’s go,” Maya said, clearing some notifications she was putting off and smiling up at Noah. 

“Yesss!” he exclaimed, throwing his arm over her shoulder and pulling her toward the elevator that would lead them down to the lobby. Maya glanced at Arden as she went and he shot her a reassuring smile. She tried to swallow the thick lump in her throat. 

When they exited the lavish art building and hurried down the stone steps, they were greeted with sleek black Aston Martin. The blacked out passenger window rolled down and jazz music poured from the interior. 

Maya ducked down and gave a hearty wave. Naoh was positively buzzing with excitement behind her. 

“Hey! Thanks for coming to grab us,” Maya said. 

“Get in, we can probably make it to Chinatown in fifteen minutes if we hurry,” Rosalie ran a hand through her shimmering golden hair and turned down the music in the car. “You’re bringing the serf?” Maya let out a laugh and tugged open the front door. Noah piled into the back. 

“He’s not a—,” Maya started. 

“I will have you know that my family runs a moderately profitable print shop back in Columbus. We’re upper middle class at the very least…in Ohio.” Noah scoffed, not taken aback by Rosalie’s ribbing. Rose just rolled her eyes and waited for Maya to buckle her seatbelt. 

“Where’s Emmett?” Maya asked. 

“He went to see his friends in Queens,” Rosalie responded before sliding into the roadway and speeding down toward their intended destination. 

“Ah,” Maya replied. Seeing friends in Queens meant hunting. 

Maya’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she fished it out before looking at the notification on the screen. She quickly swiped over the message to clear it from her home screen. Rosalie glanced over, her eyes never really leaving the road. Maya shot her a look, one that begged her not to say anything. Not in front of Noah. 

Rose got the message loud and clear from Maya’s pained eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. In her pocket, her phone continued to buzz quietly as it did most nights. 

-------------

Maya woke up the next morning to the tinny winter light filtering through her dorm room window. The soft whooshing sounds of the city just beyond the campus boundaries created a gentle pulse that matched Maya’s heartbeat. This was the moment she always dreaded—her eyes traveling across the lines of her frost covered window, already melting in the morning light and residual heat trapped by the city, as her consciousness swelled and crashed over her like a wave. 

Just as the slightest edge of sleep wore off, the pain would start. A wince, a hollowing in her stomach, a brief wave of nausea, and Maya was up. She sat up in bed, her arm wrapped low around her stomach as the pain pushed through her fast and deep, swelling and pushing her, begging her to go. But Maya would stay as still as she could, taking hard fast breaths through her mouth and squeezing her eyes tight as she waited for the first ebb of pain to pull away. 

Sometimes, the pain only lasted for a few minutes, and sometimes more. But at this point, after nearly six months of broken contact from her imprint, Maya knew how to push through the pain. When she first arrived, she knew that fissure that had burst wide open like a cracked damn would spread the pain around her and pull her back toward the reservation. It was almost unbearable at first—worse even than when she and Paul had split the first time. The distance must have made it worse to begin with, she hypothesized. 

For the first two weeks of the fall semester, Maya had barely been able to breathe, to speak even as the pain refused to leave her. Every step she took was excruciating and her joints felt rusted, her bones splintered, and her head felt like it would split in two. She felt the constant tug, like a rope edge secured to her belly button, rip at her belly as the imprint pleaded with her to return. Her whole body would be fire during the day, and then ice frozen over at night. 

It had taken her months to learn how to manage the pain, learn how to release it, and how to temper it into submission. But that didn’t stop it from sneaking up on her every now and then when she wasn’t expecting it. Maya had learned the ins and outs of her pain, knew the shape of it, and now treated it as an old friend that might never leave her. And with that knowledge, she learned how to contain it. It was only in the mornings now, when the foggy melt of sleep made her too vulnerable did the imprint strike at her like a snake. 

Maya held tightly to her abdomen, her eyes flickering up toward the sunlight as she took deeper, more calming breaths. With her eyes closed, she relived the last few moments she had seen Paul—his pleading gaze, her furious and tear stricken face, and the explosion of fur and wood as he took off into the forest. The pain began to ebb now as the echoing heavy footfalls of Paul’s wolf form faded into the memory. 

She opened her eyes and released the arm around her abdomen tentatively, swallowing and taking a shuddering breath before her gaze swept over to her nightstand. Her phone lit up with another text, adding to the already sky-high number of texts, missed calls, and voicemails that filled her inbox. Maya rubbed her eyes and held her head in her hands for just a moment before throwing the covers off of her, grabbing her toiletry kit, and heading toward the communal bathroom. 

She was once again thankful for the single dorm room the Cullens had arranged for her after she had to come to them for help that fateful night. They had insisted, even when Maya had stated that her scholarship didn’t cover such a lavish expense and only conceded when they urged her that it would be best for them as well as her when ensuring her safety and their privacy. 

There had been a lot Maya had agreed to that night. The warmth of the shower water ran over her and Maya’s eyes glazed over, remembering that evening as if it was only yesterday. 

“I need your help.” Maya had said just loud enough for herself to hear. She stood at the bottom of the concrete stairs and her eyes made out the shapes of Carlisle and Rosalie at the top. Carlisle held his mouth in a tight line as Rose crossed her arms, head tilted and looking over Maya with genuine interest. 

Maya’s heart hammered in her chest. What was she doing here? Walking into the lion’s den like this with no protection, no backup, and no wolfpack was probably insane. But she’d felt like she’d had no other choice. She couldn’t think of anywhere else to go and now looking up at the two terrifyingly still creatures, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in her blind panic. 

Carlisle suddenly gave her a soft nod, his stone body easily breaking into graceful, human-like motion as he extended his hand and beckoned her up the steps with a gentle smile. Maya let out a loud breath and shot Rosalie one glance before she jogged up the stairs and over the threshold of the house. 

Esme had given her tea and a warm, mothering smile that set Maya at ease as she sat atop the bar chair in the kitchen. Edward and Bella stood off by the sink leaning against the counter as Edward listened intently to Maya’s thoughts. Her mind couldn’t help but replay every second of the evening over and over, awash with fresh panic each time. 

“They’re not going to let me leave,” Maya said gently, her eyes flickering up to Edward and then over to Carlisle. Emmett stood by the fireplace in the adjoining living room and Rosalie was perched on the counter top. Carlisle pursed his lips again and looked over to Bella. She gave a gentle shake of her head and Carlisle nodded. “Please, I just want to…” Maya couldn’t finish her sentence as her throat closed up and she hiccuped slightly with too much emotion. 

Carlisle finally let his gaze rest on Edward, “What will they do?” Maya’s eyes shot up, wide and terrified as the sound of someone else speaking for the first time reached her ears. They had been nearly silent this entire time and she had no idea what they would do. Would they just hand her back over? Was she risking war by being here? 

Bella’s eyes watched Maya carefully, but they were gentle, understanding, as if she recognized some of the pain Maya was feeling in this moment. Edward took a moment to consider, as if listening beyond his means and then shrugged. 

“We won’t know for sure unless we ask. There’s nothing specifically in the treaty about this kind of interference. Just that we’re not supposed to harm or hunt the tribe. This doesn’t fall into the category from where I’m standing, but the pack might see it differently.” Edward spoke purposefully, as if mulling over the options in his mind as he was speaking and not coming to any one clear conclusion. Carlisle’s eyes skated over Maya again and then toward Bella. 

“Could you reach out to him? To see if we can come to some sort of arrangement?” Carlisle asked. Bella’s eyes hadn’t left Maya since she’d shown up. She glanced at Carlisle, meeting his eyes and gave a nod. Maya watched as Bella left the kitchen, toward the front door, and hear the soft clack as she exited the home. 

Maya looked down at her hands and fought back the fresh well of tears that threatened to overtake her. When she looked up, Rosalie’s gaze was still boring through her—curious, imploring, and oddly comforting. 

A short while later, Esme took her to a guest room to get some sleep, but Maya was surely not going to do any of that. She checked her phone on and off throughout the evening, but it didn’t seem like anyone had sounded the alarm yet. Maybe they thought she and Paul had just had another blow out argument, their tempers getting the best of them yet again. Maya internally groaned. She so did not want to be that couple. 

It was entirely too late, or rather too early when Maya heard the soft sound of the door opening as she sat with her head in her hands at the end of the bed where Esme had left her earlier that night. Maya raised her head, eyes alarmed, to see Bella standing there with a soft smile. 

“Come with me,” she said gently, gesturing over her shoulder. Maya couldn’t help the involuntary shiver she gave as she passed her. When they descended the stairs together and rounded into the living room, Maya’s breath hitched in her throat and her steps stuttered as her gaze fell upon the massive form of Jacob Black standing in the center of the open living room. The Cullens gathered around him in various states of relaxation, some sitting on the couch, some with their hands slipped into their pockets and leaning close to the fire. 

Maya swallowed hard. Jacob’s arms were crossed over his chest and he didn’t look too happy. Maya clenched her hands into fists at her sides, bracing for a fight. Her eyes darted to Carlisle, and then Bella as if silently asking for an escape or at the very least, an explanation. But none came. Jacob’s mouth sat in a firm line as he looked at her, his gaze never wavering as the firelight flickered shadows over his body. 

What was she supposed to say? Jacob kept just staring at her, as if he was trying to figure something out. It made Maya realize quite suddenly she was the least supernatural being in this room and it made her feel…odd. He wasn’t moving, no one else in the room was breathing, but Maya felt like the air was thinning and she was going to crack under the weight of her own panic. Her eyes flickered to Rosalie who straightened from her sitting position on the couch and came to stand next to Carlisle like she had at the top of the stairs. She turned toward Maya and gave her a small nod. Maya opened her mouth as if to speak and then immediately closed it. 

And Jacob just stood there, radiating more heat than the fireplace. Maya couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad or just plain tired. He’d always said he’d never wanted to be alpha, but did this fall into his responsibilities? A grown ass runaway just trying to get off this rez so she can go back to school? Probably not. But still, Maya was his problem implicitly as an imprint and for that she was truly sorry. 

“Jake, I–” Maya choked on her words, and closed her eyes tight for a second. 

“Is this what you want?” he said suddenly. Maya’s eyes snapped open, unsure if he had even spoken or if she had hallucinated it in her sleep deprived state. She stared at him for too long and so he said again, “Is this what you want, Maya?” 

She swallowed hard. Her throat on fire before she nodded and said hoarsely, “Yes.” 

Jacob let out a loud sigh through his nose and let his arms drop as he turned to Carlisle. “There is still a threat.” Carlisle nodded solemnly. 

“We understand. Rose and Emmett have already agreed to escort Maya and stay with her in New York while she attends school.We have a home there, but Maya can obviously stay on campus if she wants.” Jake chuckled. 

“Of course you have a home out there,” he rubbed his eyes and shrugged. “Fine. If you’re willing to do this, I can’t really stop her.” Maya took a step toward Jake, not realizing the tears that had gathered and already poured down her cheeks in her earnest. 

“You’re letting me leave?” Maya said breathlessly. It seemed like such an idiotic question but only a few hours ago, she thought otherwise. Jacob looked at her now, his gaze somewhat surprised before it turned into deep sadness. A look of understanding came over his face as if he knew what it was like to feel trapped in a no-win situation. 

“You should leave today,” he said sternly to Maya before turning to Carlisle, “The sooner the better.” 

“Understood,” Carlisle replied softly with a sympathetic smile. 

Maya gathered her backpack and leaned down to tie up her chunky black boots before wrapping a scarf loosely around her neck. Her phone buzzed again but by now, Maya mostly ignored the notifications. They came in frequently, from everyone. 

Except Keye. She had only texted once after Maya left and knew her well enough to know that there wouldn’t be a point in chasing her. All she had said was: “I love you. Good on you for sticking to what you want. You probably should steer clear of here for awhile. Text if you need.”

Maya read that text often. Just for a little reassurance that what she was doing was the right thing. She glanced at her phone now and saw that the most recent message was from Rose. She was on her way to her dorm to walk with Maya to class. Rose had registered at Columbia as a Sophomore to study mechanic engineering as her “cover”, but Maya knew she just genuinely enjoyed doing something with her time. Plus, Rosalie’s alluring nature only helped Maya in her department and in making connections. She tried not to rely too much on that though. 

Maya was determined to do this her way and succeed on her own, like she always had. Still, it came in handy sometimes. 

Ten minutes later, they were walking side by side across the quad toward Maya’s early morning lecture. 

“It’s not that bad,” Rose said straightening her dark maroon leather gloves. . 

“It’s bad,” Maya said, “You weren’t there Rose, I really did blow it. I don’t think Professor Arden is going to introduce me like that again after that monumental flub.” 

“Oh please,” Rose scoffed, she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. The cloud cover this morning was pleasant enough that she could walk around freely without her umbrella she usually carried with her, and the chill of late February in New York meant showing as minimal skin as possible also worked in her favor. “Arden is obsessed with you,” she said not too kindly. 

“Ew, no he’s not,” Maya laughed. 

“I’ve seen guys like him before Maya, he’s a borderline creep. If you give him another inch, he’ll run the whole mile with it,” Rosalie said matter of factly. 

“You’re crazy. And also, he’s my fucking professor. I think I would have picked up on the gross-power-dynamic vibes. You’ve met Paul, right?” Maya quipped. Rose gave a noncommittal sound as her eyes scanned across the quad. Maya’s phone buzzed again. 

“You know you can put that on silent, right?” Rose responded as Maya pulled her phone out of her pocket. 

“It’s Beez, and we’re running this student seminar together next week so I most definitely cannot turn it on silent,” Maya let out a slow breath as she began to type, the air fogging up around them as they walked briskly. 

“Yeah and only 186 unread texts, 217 missed calls, and 73 voicemails,” Rose shot back, “Sure.  I’m sure the buzzing is not getting to you either.” Maya rolled her eyes and looked over at Rose who gave her a small smile.

“Who’s obsessed with who now?” Maya quipped, to which Rose let out that bright, twinkling laugh that lit up her whole face. 

Maya shoved her phone back into her pocket. Ever since she skipped town, she hadn’t answered anyone, save for Jeremy that first night and her parents. 

“They’ll all be there when the semester is over,” Maya said, her teeth chattering from the cold as she yanked open the door to her class building. 

“Right,” Rose replied, looking the picture of perfection, not a blonde hair out of place. Despite the prodding, Maya was so grateful to both her and Emmett for getting her back to Columbia when they did that she couldn’t really begrudge her for pointing out the fact that Maya was most definitely avoiding everything back home. 

Back home. 

Maya hadn’t been home in over six months. Half a year. She hadn’t been home for fall break and her parents opted to visit her out in New York for Christmas. It was probably for the best considering that the rez was a minefield of uncertainty. She hadn’t spoken to anyone, not a text, or a call, since the day she left. And still, her inbox swelled with texts, photos, voicemails, voice messages, and everything in between. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to go through them just yet. Maya would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bit guilty for leaving the way she did. But she thought she had no other choice. Still, it didn’t stop a fresh pang of guilt from washing over her anytime her phone vibrated. 

Maya slumped into her seat in the lecture hall after waving goodbye to Rosalie who drew a few stares per usual. The hallways of the engineering building were dotted with the occasional paper heart or pink and white streamers of the looming holiday. Maya exhaled roughly and was only somewhat jolted out of her reverie when Beez slapped her books down on the table in front  of her breathless. 

“Hey! Did you get my text?” she said before unwrapping her scarf and shedding her coat. 

“Uh, yeah!” Maya said quickly, straightening and turning her attention to the front of the lecture hall where her professor was starting his slides. 

------------

The Valentine’s decorations in the mess hall had seemingly exploded everywhere the closer they got to February 14. Each table was covered in tiny pink confetti hearts and streamers with glittering hearts poured from every ceiling and stairwell. Maya didn’t remember it being as big of deal last year, but now the overwhelming pressure of the holiday was making her nauseous. 

That hollowness in Maya’s stomach was growing again and she grimaced down at her salad. Her arm automatically curved around her abdomen lightly underneath the table. 

“I never really understood Valentine’s day,” Beez said suddenly between mouthfuls of chicken noodle soup, “I mean, I get it but also like, if you love someone, isn’t that like an everyday thing? Can’t today just be like a proclamation day for people who haven’t expressed loved to their loved one yet? And for everyone else, it can be business as usual?” 

Rose looked up from painting her nails and quirked a beautifully arched eyebrow at Beez. “I think it’s nice,” she said easily as she blew on her cherry red nails. Maya’s eyes still stayed zoned in on her salad, focusing on breathing in and out. 

“Yeah, it’s nice!” Beez agreed, “But it also doesn’t make sense.” 

“What’s not to get about love?” Rose said without looking up from her nails this time in mock concentration. 

“Everything,” Beez said after a beat, “It’s the most nonsensical, confusing, logic-defying emotion in our existence. Everything about love doesn’t make sense,” Beez proclaimed as she shuffled through her notecards. Noah sank down in a seat next to her and started digging into his chicken salad sandwich. “People do the weirdest shit when they’re in love.”

“It can be about other kinds of love, not just the romantic kind,” he said between mouthfuls. He always had to rush off to his city planning course after lunch which was clear across campus, but he made it a point to have lunch with them every Tuesday and Thursday. 

“I guess,” Beez said, making a revision to her notecard. Maya sucked in a too sharp breath and Noah looked up from his tray. 

“My?” he asked, concerned. Rose glanced at Maya and leaned across the table to try and distract them. 

“Did you guys get an invitation to that art show in May?” Rose asked. Beez looked up, her brow creasing in confusion. Noah glanced at Rose as if compelled to and then quickly back to Maya. Maya straightened and pretended to pick at her salad, shooting Noah a quick smile. 

“No? What art show? God damnit! They think chem kids don’t give a fuck about this stuff and they never give us the good stuff,” Beez complained. Maya was thankful for the distraction, even if Noah still watched her from across the table worriedly as Rosalie promised to text Beez the details. 

Maya had never been particularly invested in Valentine’s day as a holiday. Not even before the imprint. But now, it felt like a monument to her current relationship’s disarray. Maybe it felt worse this year not only because of being on the outs with Paul but also because…the last time he had tried to text her was back in January. 

The text had been short, as they had gradually become in Maya’s continued silence. It had come in the second week of January, the night of the bonfire nearly two years ago. The night of the imprint. 

The text had simply read: Happy anniversary. 

Maya had struggled to breathe for a few hours after that and ultimately had turned off her phone and overslept the next day, missing her first two classes. 

After that, there was nothing. He hadn’t reached out in almost a month. And Maya was beginning to wonder if this was it. If he was giving up. She couldn’t blame him considering how she had left and how she had iced him out after. She was still amazed by the fact that he had never traveled out to New York to confront her or try to bring her back. But maybe Rose and Emmett had been enough of a deterrent to ensure that she wouldn’t go easily. That and she’d never forgive him. Still, something in Maya wouldn't let her forgive him just yet for trying to keep her on the rez in the first place and she held onto that feeling, that distance to help her get through the semester. 

Now as the day loomed closer, she just felt alone. She was surrounded by people—people who cared about her. And yet, Maya felt that familiar ache that pulsed with the realization that she would never truly be whole without Paul. She knew that. But she knew what she had to do first—to make this all worth it, if that feeling didn’t drive her crazy first. It was maddening, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch, a tug that just wouldn’t let up. It drove out any sense of reason and sent her brain buzzing with static. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t breathe. 

Maya pushed away from the table abruptly and stood, scooping up her bag. “I just forgot that I needed to talk to Professor Arden about my…” she didn’t finish as she hurried away and out toward the quad. No one followed her, for which she was thankful. 

Out in the cold, February air, Maya took some deep gulping breaths to calm herself and try to quell the growing pain in her stomach. Absently, her feet made their way toward the engineering building as tears glittered in her eyes. 

As if on autopilot in her grief, Maya was suddenly in front of Professor Arden’s door. She swallowed thickly, and wiped the tears off of her stained cheeks. She hadn’t actually meant to come and see Professor Arden, she had just been so lost in thought trying to escape the pain welling up in her that her feet carried her here as if on instinct. Maya spent a lot of time here going over her papers, brainstorming ideas for her upcoming thesis that was still a ways off, talking about grad programs and the merits of teaching versus finding something industry. Professor Arden was a great sounding board and had incredible connections. 

Hoping for a distraction, Maya dug in her bag for her latest paper—an actual excuse to be here. But she had nothing on her. 

With a sigh she cleared the tears away once more and just as she turned to leave, the door to his office wrenched open. Maya startled, and stumbled back a little wide eyed. 

“Maya!” Professor Arden exclaimed, somewhat surprised to see her standing there, somewhat disheveled by the cold wind blowing around campus.

“Professor Arden,” Maya returned, trying to straighten herself up and tame her hair that must have been a wild mess from booking it across the quad. “I, uh—” she closed her eyes somewhat embarrassed and opened them to see him watching her with a soft, comforting look on his face. “I meant to bring you something to look over, but I uh—” she thumbed over her shoulder back toward the stairwell, “I forgot, so, I’m just gonna—” she started to back away. 

“That’s alright, I had actually received an email from Dr. Bronnard about an aerospace internship position this summer in Ohio. Do you want to come take a look? I think it might be a good fit,” he said warmly. Maya pursed her lips and then nodded, her enthusiasm quickly returning as she brushed by him and into his office. 

Professor Arden’s office was a warm oasis from the cold campus outside. He had a wall lined with bookcases and crammed with books and project proposals and published articles from magazines and journals. He was a leading voice in modern engineering for how young he was in his career. Maya guessed he couldn’t be older than his late thirties or early forties. His office culminated around a large black wood desk that was littered with papers. He fit well into this office, and the warm smell of cedar and fresh cut mint hung in the air. It was pleasant, Maya had to admit, and she enjoyed spending time in his office, thumbing through his books and asking far too many questions. 

He humored her though, and was always friendly, kind, and trying to push her in the right direction. He grabbed his laptop from his desk and scooped up the clear frame glasses from a stack of ungraded papers before settling on the plush green velvet couch that sat opposite his desk. Maya sunk down next to him, tucking a leg under her and dropping her book bag to the ground with a thud. She unraveled her scarf and shrugged off her coat, setting it across the arm of the couch before leaning over to look at his laptop. 

“Okay, soooo…” he said, his eyes glued to the laptop screen as he pulled up the website that offered the internship. Maya set her arm on the back of the couch and rested her head against her hand as she peered across him to his screen. “This is the company. Dr. Bronnard has been there for about 10 or so years. He was actually my professor at Brown when I was in grad school,” he chuckled warmly and Maya couldn’t help but smile at the sound. 

“Brown, huh? Never pegged you for a west coast kind of guy,” she joked. He threw her a look and Maya gave him a full on laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up. Speaking of, have you thought anymore about grad school?” he said, as he clicked through a couple pages to get to the internship application. Maya sighed and looked back at his screen. 

“Not yet. I still have two more years here and who knows what will happen,” her voice sounded tired, even to her. Professor Arden’s hands paused and he looked over at her again. 

“Two years isn’t that long,” his voice was low, and the warm amber light of the room suddenly had a lulling quality. Maya sank her head down into the crook of her arm as hair fell into her face. She groaned. 

“A lot can happen in two years,” she said, “Trust me.” 

“Okay,” he smiled at her again in that way that was so endearing, and Maya understood why so many students found him attractive. “Just think about it,” he shrugged. Maya nodded from her relaxed place and pushed some hair behind her ear as she looked back to his screen. 

“Is this a three month stint in Ohio?” she asked. Professor Arden gave a hum of affirmation. “Aerospace? You think I’m cut out for aerospace engineering? My focus is in biomechanics,” she said uncertainly. 

“I know,” he gestured to the screen, “But you’d be working closely with a team that is working on building a fully functioning garden lab in space. Botany, farming, sustainable harvesting, the whole bit. I think it would be a great challenge for you,” He looked over at her and Maya saw that promise in his eyes, the one that dared her to believe him if she would just believe in herself too. She’d missed that look, “Plus, it might be a welcome distraction.” His voice lowered a bit, as if they were telling secrets. Maya sucked in a breath and sat up. 

“What do you—,” she started, but Professor Arden shook his head. 

“I see you, Maya,” he said gently. “I get it.” 

Did he? She wondered. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she worried he might hear it. Maya couldn’t bear the weight of this pain that pushed on her now. She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes and desperately did not want him to see her cry over something she couldn’t…wouldn’t explain. She needed to leave, she knew that. This pain would crush her and in front of a professor was probably the most mortifying way her pain going public could be. But she couldn’t seem to lift herself from the comfort of the couch. 

She held his gaze, hoping that the tears would not fall, but they threatened to spill any moment. And the pain of remembering that hollowness in her stomach, the emptiness and utter barren feeling of loneliness swelled and burst over her, propelling her forward. 

Before Maya even knew what was happening, her lips had crashed down upon his. They were soft and warm and he tasted…different. Her hand had found its way up to his sharp jaw covered in a pleasingly trimmed, soft beard. And he wasn’t pulling away. Maya found herself lifting her body, slinging one leg across his lap as he moved his laptop out of the way, so she could straddle him. His mouth opened to her, his hands grabbing her waist and held her tightly to the line of his crotch. Maya was lost in sensation. She’d never kissed another man, and the feeling sent a thrill through her, amplified by her grief begging her to forget if she could just deepen this kiss and take it a step further. Maya slid her tongue across his as a soft whispered moan fell from her lips and into his mouth. She pressed her chest to his, her nipples hard and begging to be touched as her other hand coasted down to cup his neck. Her hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his clothed crotch. He was pushing back toward her into the kiss and Maya’s mind started to go blank. The heat was rising between them as the kiss turned frantic, feverish. His hands squeezed her hips and helped her move across his covered length, and a wanton groan spilled from his mouth. Maya smiled into the kiss. Was she really doing this? Her heart panged with fear, sadness, and some unanswered excitement. Why did it feel so good to forget? 

Maya let her hand drift down his neck and chest, toward his belt buckle that jingled lightly between them, and in one swift movement, he yanked free of the kiss. 

“Maya, wait,” he said breathlessly, coming to his senses. 

“Wh-what? What’s wrong?” she breathed, her hair a mess, her mouth puckered and red, ready to receive anything he was willing to give her. Professor Arden shook his head, as if trying to clear it. Maya could feel him hard and wanting between her thighs, and almost moaned in disappointment when he shifted her off his lap back onto the couch. 

“We can’t do this,” he said, letting her go, “I’m so sorry…that was… you are..” he groaned and stood up, keeping his back to her as he paced toward his desk. Maya put a hand to her lips and the feelings of grief and loneliness erupted into embarrassment, showering her in pure mortification. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed. Maya was suddenly terrified of the person that she was. She had kissed a professor, her advisor, her confidante. What the fuck was she thinking?! As far as she knew, she was still with Paul. And she had kissed someone else. “Oh my god,” she said louder as she scrambled off of the couch and began to grab her things in a panic. 

“Maya,” he said suddenly, sharply turning and crossing the room. “Maya,” he grabbed her arm gently and she whirled around her eyes shooting up to his wide-eyed as if caught. 

“I’m so, so sorry. Professor Arden, I—” she pulled her book bag onto her shoulder, stuttering as she tried to find the right words, “I don’t know what came over me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean….oh my god,” she pressed a hand to her forehead as she looked at the ground. The tears were back and fell in earnest. 

“Hey, Maya,” he placated. Suddenly, that soft, broad hand was on her cheek and pulling her face up, “It’s okay. Really. I just don’t think…we should go there. You’re beautiful, and brilliant, and funny, and are headed toward amazing things….” his calming voice quelled some of Maya’s tears and she automatically leaned into his hand, “But you’re very obviously hurt and dealing with something and I won’t complicate things further than they already would be if we…” he swallowed thickly, his eyes coasting down her body for a moment and flickering back toward the couch as if considering taking it a step further right then and there. And for a moment, Maya wanted him to. 

She imagined the comfort it would temporarily bring her to be covered by him, her thighs spread as he pumped into her, nibbling at her breasts, telling her it was okay, it was alright, they’d figure it out later, but right now…right now they just needed to focus on feeling good. Together. She would moan softly to egg him on as he would bend her knees and push them toward her face so he could sink deeper and deeper into her, pushing her to a limit that would make her beg. She craved that feeling of connection, togetherness, and the warmth that would spread in her belly when he would come in her and fill her to the brim. And the soft sigh of relief when he’d pull out, peppering her with kisses as he dripped from between her legs and kissed her neck. 

But it wouldn’t be him.

She knew deep down that that wasn’t what she really wanted. That she would be picturing someone else the whole time. And she knew that the pain would come back tenfold. She nodded up at him and he gave her a reassuring smile as he let his thumb wipe away a tear falling down her cheek. 

“It’s okay,” he promised. “Believe me, I would if this was some other lifetime, some other situation. But I want to help you get to where you need to go. It’s kind of my whole job,” he joked. Maya let out a wet laugh and nodded. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she breathed. He clicked his tongue as if to shoosh her but she shook her head and took a step back out of his grasp, “Can we just forget this ever happened? I’m honestly mortified,” she ran a hand through her hair and he nodded, slipping his hands in his pockets. 

“Of course, consider it forgotten,” he said gently. Maya let out a sigh of relief and said: 

“Thank you, Professor Arden,” she crossed his office and pulled open his door. He hadn’t moved from his place by his desk. 

“Arden,” he corrected. Maya looked over her shoulder, “You should really just start calling me Arden.” There was that endearing smile again. Maya shook her head and gave him a teasing smile. 

“That would be a bit too familiar, don’t you think?” she joked. He let out a barking laugh and Maya made her exit without another word. 

--------

The soft shuffling of papers echoed across the tall angular architecture of the Butler library. Maya sighed and flipped through her textbooks. Finals were only a few weeks away and she was halfway through her second term paper, her brain threatening to crack from the sheer amount of information she’d been processing for the past few days. 

Rosalie sat quietly across from her, slowly reading a textbook that she very clearly already knew all of the information in. But, to keep up appearances and to keep Maya company, she pretended to be exhausted and overworked like the rest of them. 

The end of her sophomore year looked vastly different than that of her freshman one. She was on the precipice of a new opportunity and had her internship lined up for the summer, thanks to Professor Arden’s help, and Rosalie and Emmett were working out the accommodations for all three of them. 

Maya rubbed her eyes and tried to press reset on her brain. She tried to focus on what she’d be doing in just one short month in her internship in Ohio. Professor Arden’s connections with Dr. Bronnard helped Maya get a foot in the door and they delightedly offered her the role after one short interview. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was mostly Professor Arden’s doing. 

Ever since their makeout session in his office in February, Maya had been trying to keep her distance. They only met up a few times in either very public spaces or during his office hours where there were sure to be students milling about to keep the awkwardness down. True to his word, he acted as if nothing had ever happened and Maya would try to contain the red blush from creeping into her cheeks any time she was near him, still full on embarrassed from her clumsy misstep. Honestly, he had probably helped her get that internship in Ohio just so they didn’t have to talk as much. 

Still, she was grateful for the space to help clear her head of her mistake and forge ahead. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Paul was still radio silent. That was fine, she thought. The less distractions the better. And now that she wasn’t going home for the summer, it took a weight off of her. 

She would be away from her home for a full year. The thought made her breathless and a new, whining ache wound in her. Maya grimaced and tried to type the conclusion on her term paper. But her hands stayed hovered over the keys. Whispers floated out of different studying nooks and Maya looked up at Rosalie. She raised her golden eyes up at her and gave her a quizzical look. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” Maya said softly, but she knew full well Rose could hear her. Maya wasn’t sure where that question had come from, only that she felt like she needed an answer. 

Rose watched her for a moment, her soft, liquid gold eyes carefully catching on each of Maya’s features before she leaned in a bit on the table so Maya could better hear her. 

“Because I understand what it feels like to be trapped,” she said gently, “And so does Jake. Which is why he did what he did. Plus, I admire a woman who knows what she wants and is willing to break a few hearts to get it,” she smirked and Maya stared for a long time. 

“What did Jake do?” Maya asked. Rosalie paused here, wondering what the path of least confusion and hurt would be, measuring the weight of each option.

“He gave Paul an alpha order not to interfere with your life until you were ready. Until you came to him,” Rosalie said, her eyes holding onto Maya’s. 

The breath seemed to trap itself in Maya’s throat as she processed Rosalie’s answer. Jacob had ordered Paul not to interfere. That explained the lack of him showing up to drag her back. A familiar burn pressed in her stomach, one that echoed the full blown fire of the imprint and Maya swallowed hard in response before she nodded and looked back down at her book. 

“Will you?” Rosalie asked suddenly, snapping Maya up from her reverie as she stared at the pages of her book. They might as well have been blank for all of her comprehension in that moment. 

“Will I what?” Maya asked, her voice somewhat gravelly. 

“Will you go to him?” she asked with genuine interest as if she truly couldn’t anticipate the answer. Maya was stunned into silence again and couldn’t bring herself to answer. After a long moment, Rosalie nodded with a sympathetic smile and let her gaze fall to her book, releasing Maya from having to answer. 

-----------

Maya slipped out of her light black shawl and handed it to the attendant by the museum front doors with a smile. Noah checked his umbrella and followed close behind as Beez stood at the bottom of the marble stone steps that led up to the exhibit looking nervous. 

“You okay?” Maya asked, confused. Beez nodded and waved her off before tilting her head. 

“I love your hair!” she exclaimed. Maya immediately brought a hand up to touch her freshly chopped hair, cut in a blunt style that hung just at her shoulders. She had kind of done it on a whim that afternoon with Rosalie when they were picking out a last minute clutch for Rosalie. Maya had had curled into loose beachy waves that framed her face and put on some dark winged liner and a dark plum lip to go with her Anna October black mini dress. The razor thin straps cut down across the open back, exposing down almost to her low back. “So fucking cute,” Beez confirmed. Maya blushed and looked down at her chunky Versace heels that Rosalie had insisted on. 

“Aw thanks,” she said tucking some hair behind her ear. “You look great too!” Maya said, “Doesn’t she, Noah?” Maya turned as Noah shook some of the loose rain from his hair and he looked over at both of them. 

“10/10 Beez,” he smiled. Beez buzzed and turned, grabbing Maya’s hand as they jogged up the stone steps. 

“This is going to be so cool!” she exclaimed. Maya let out a little laugh and agreed. She’d been to a couple of art shows in the city on a whim, but these were all original pieces by multiple artists. And the artists themselves would be milling about. It was kind of a big deal, or so Maya had been told. 

Once they entered the wide open art floor, cut with smaller white panels to help separate the exhibits, the threesome made their way through the crowd. Maya grabbed a glass of champagne from a server and scooped up another glass for Noah who gratefully took it. Beez wasn’t much of a drinker and she was too wowed by the collection of bent and twisted ceramic and wood that took on a life of it’s own around her. 

Maya tried to contain her smile as she shuffled through some of the exhibits. At one point, Noah broke off to go talk to some industry people he had keeping an eye on and Beez skated away toward an artist who was talking about the inspiration for his piece. Maya stayed in front of a swirling piece of ceramic that seemed to defy physics as she slowly sipped her champagne. 

“Thought that was you,” a familiar voice said softly from beside her. Maya glanced to her left and smiled. Professor Arden was standing tall in a dark blue suit, his dark hair swept into a soft quoif, and his beard trimmed neat as always. The soft smell of cedar and mint met her nose and she exhaled slowly. 

Maya tipped back the rest of her champagne glass and deposited it onto the empty tray from a server passing by with a ‘thank you.’ 

Professor Arden passed her a fresh glass he had been holding and she plucked it from his hand. The champagne bubbled delightfully in her stomach. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“No problem,” he glanced down at her with a warm smile and let his gaze run up and down the length of her body with an appreciative nod, “You look great.” he said simply before turning back to the art piece. 

“Oh, this old thing?” Maya quipped, “Dug it out of the designer dumpster on 6th ave.” Arden chuckled and took a sip. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” she finished. Was she flirting? Why was she flirting? 

He looked down at his suit and nodded, “From the dumpster,” he confirmed. Maya let out a small laugh and shook her head. At least it wasn’t awkward. “Oh, shit,” he said softly. 

“What?” Maya said alarmed. She rarely ever heard him cuss. 

“That’s Dr. Bronnard,” he gestured to a grey haired man standing with a cluster of people around him listening to whatever story he was telling about his latest breakthrough. “I didn’t know if he’d make it to this, but I want to introduce you,” his hand floated down to rest on the middle of her naked back, sending shivers down Maya’s spine. 

“O-oh!” Maya stuttered, taken aback, “Absolutely, yes. That’s my new boss so might as well right?” she chuckled nervously. Arden took a step closer to her, his warmth causing a soft tingling sensation to erupt across her skin, making Maya feel more naked than when she had taken off her shawl. It must be cold in here, she thought. 

“He’s great, I promise. Just be your normal, quippy self and he’s going to love you,” that warm smile spread across his face and Maya nodded. 

“Easy enough,” she breathed. He gently pressed against her back, steering her toward Dr. Bronnard. Maya had to admit that she felt good. Better than she had felt in months. She felt calm and confident and that hollowness in her stomach had cleared away halfway through her second glass of champagne. She smiled up at Arden gratefully as he waved to Dr. Bronnard during a lull in the conversation and introduced Maya, his hand still firmly placed on her back. It was comforting, and she leaned forward to take Dr. Bronnard’s hand and began to animatedly discuss all the reading up on his current project she had done. 

That feeling of calm never left her during their conversation, and Maya wanted to attribute it to the soft stroke of Arden’s thumb against her spine as she carried on and on with Dr. Bronnard easily. Arden cut in every now and then to offer some interesting tidbit or to highlight a recent accomplishment of Maya’s in their department. 

She was positively glowing, in her element, and had felt like she belonged here. Maya belonged here. Dr. Bronnard thanked Maya for her sheer enthusiasm and exclaimed that she had been the obvious right choice considering her passion and purpose for this project she was pursuing this summer at his facility. He excused himself to talk with a colleague and Maya spun on her heel with a squeal and looked up delightedly at Arden. 

“See? Easy. Quippy, self-assured, brilliant Maya strikes again,” he said enthusiastically. Maya shook her head with laughter and placed a hand on Arden’s bicep to steady herself on her heels. 

“That was amazing,” she finally managed. “I’ve never felt less like an imposter in my entire fucking life,” Maya was on cloud nine, she was spinning, and she was little tipsy if she was being honest. 

Arden seemed to notice because he said, “You’re not an imposter. I’m going to run to the restroom and get us some water. Those hors d'oeuvres really aren’t soaking up any of this champagne.” Maya nodded and clutched her champagne glass, standing straight. “I’ll be back,” he said, giving her that sweet, soft smile. Someone was going to fall in love with that smile someday. She was honestly surprised no one had yet. 

Maya turned around to face the room, drifting off toward an exhibit absently. She wound up in the center of the room, facing a tall wooden sculpture made from driftwood. Her throat tightened suddenly and she let her eyes roam around the delicate carving of the piece. It reminded her of home, something she hadn’t thought about in months if she was being honest. The wood was familiar, the white and green of the wood marred by years on the beach. She took a step toward it, her heart lurching in her chest and reached a hand out to touch it. She wondered if it would feel as cool to the touch as it looked. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to touch that,” a voice said gruffly a few feet away from her. Maya startled and whirled around, some champagne sloshing over the rim of her glass. She stumbled back somewhat and then let her eyes fall on the figure that had chastised her. 

Standing in an all black suit, with a black trimmed beard that darkened his whole face was Paul Lahote. 

“Oh…fuck,” Maya whispered. She fought from wobbling like a newborn deer on top  of her chunky heels as her eyes stayed glued to that of her imprint. The man she had left nearly 9 months ago after he threatened to keep her on the reservation in an effort to keep her safe, contained, kept. Maya swallowed hard. 

That explained the quell of the aching hollowness that usually accompanied her every waking moment. Paul was here, which washed away any of that ache, that pain that she relentlessly beat back for months. He was here and it just disappeared. Was life really that unfair? 

“What are you doing here?” Maya managed after a long moment of the two of them just staring at one another. His gaze was hard, angry, furious even. He looked like he was about to rip someone’s throat out, but he remained stock still. Hands in his pockets, silver watch glittering against the art lights overhead. He took a long moment to answer, his eyes taking in her whole face as if he was drinking a glass of water after being fed only salt for months. 

Finally, he gestured to the piece behind Maya. The one made of driftwood that felt like home. 

“Rachel got some of my pieces into this exhibit. I was required to come as part of the exhibit,” he said almost begrudgingly. 

How was he standing so still? She wondered. Maya was fighting everything in her to keep from walking toward him. The imprint thrummed, rearing its head and cried out for him. 

“I thought… I thought Jake—” she began. 

“Jacob doesn’t know I’m here. I’m away…on work. None of his business. And technically I’m not breaking any,” he gritted his teeth, “rules.” He spoke the last word with venom. Maya’s heart was beating frantically in her chest, “I didn’t know you’d be here.” He said it with almost disappointment and Maya felt herself nearly crack in two. 

Her mouth must have been hanging open slightly because she closed it abruptly and clacked her teeth together. The man before her was definitely Paul, but he was darker somehow. 

Anger rippled off of him in waves though there was no tremor to his physical shape suggesting he was fighting from phasing. Instead, his dark brown eyes held nothing but overwhelming malice, thick with what Maya could only place as disgust. But still the hollowness that usually accompanied Maya was nowhere to be found. 

Despite his anger and sheer disdain for her, he was here and the imprint soothed a balm of calm across her. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Maya said thickly, to which he scoffed at. Was this how they would be? Or was he just as taken aback as Maya. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he said, frustration coating his tongue. 

“Ditto,” Maya shot back, the anger rising in her now, an easier defense than the earth shattering sadness that was threatening to overtake her like a wave, “Glad to see you have the ability to go wherever you want, when you want. Must be liberating.” 

“No one’s keeping you away,” he was quick to shoot back, “Check any of your messages lately?” Maya blew out a huff of breath, “You missed Sadie and Seth’s wedding.” 

Maya knew that—her mom had told her, but she couldn’t bring herself to return the reservation, not even for that. She opened her mouth to respond to tell him as much, but he carried on. 

“Kim had her baby. Oh, and your best friend is pregnant again,” every sentence came out as an accusation. Maya hadn’t known about that last one. Becks was pregnant again? Fuck. “Not like you give a shit,” he said finally. The air hung thick and heavy between them and Maya felt the sharp burn of tears against her eyes. 

“Fuck you,” she said through gritted teeth. Paul’s eyes widened in mock surprise and it infuriated her. He nodded and looked down at his feet before looking back up at her. One tear had escaped and flowed quickly down her cheek. Paul’s eyes followed it and abruptly he took a step toward her, as if on reflex, but he stopped. 

“Everything okay?” a warm voice next to her asked. Oh no, Maya thought. Her eyes widened again and she felt that warm, reassuring hand on her back again as Arden tugged Maya a tad bit closer, clearly seeing she was in distress. But Maya was worried now that this entire exhibit was about to be shredded into pieces. 

Her eyes found Paul, but his gaze was fixed only on Arden. His eyes narrowed, pure daggers thrown as he cocked his head to the side somewhat in challenge. Arden straightened somewhat and Maya thought about stepping away, excusing herself, but she couldn’t leave Arden to the wolves. He would be ripped to shreds. 

There was still no tremors indicating Paul was in danger of losing control, but his face was contorted into that of faux chagrin. 

“Not at all,” he said, his voice dripping with challenge. “Miss Sunriviere was just admiring my piece, weren’t you?” Paul’s eyes popped to Maya’s face for just a second, pain shot through his features so quickly, Maya wasn’t sure if she had actually seen it or not before he looked back to Arden. 

“Ah, I see,” Arden said, not wholly convinced. His hand slid to Maya’s waist and she braced herself for the onslaught, “Maya, there’s someone over here I want you to meet. Nice to meet you Mr.?” Arden paused. 

“Lahote,” Paul said stiffly, “Paul Lahote.” 

“Mr. Lahote,” Arden nodded and pulled Maya around, his hand coming to rest in the center of her naked back again as he steered her away. Maya felt the heat from Paul’s gaze pierce her skin and when she dared a look over her shoulder back at him, he looked fit to roll into a rage right then and there at that hand on her back and burst into flames, but stayed exactly where he had stood the entire time as if bolted to the floor, unable to move.

Next > >

[catnipster69]

fic: Do You Kiss Your Momma With That Mouth? Chapter 7

Picture credit: x

Do You Kiss Your Momma With That Mouth? Chapter 7 Published: 2024-02-14 Words: 4084 Chapters: 7/11 by catnipster

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Stephen Amell/Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles/Alexander Calvert, Misha Collins/Original Character(s) Characters: Jim Beaver, DJ Qualls, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Hilarie Burton, Danneel Harris, Emily Perkins, Steven Williams (Supernatural RPF), Sterling K. Brown, Ty Olsson, Samantha Ferris, Chad Lindberg, Dee Wallace, Katie Cassidy, Genevieve Cortese, Lisa Berry, Alona Tal, Jon Gries Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Jensen is a Chef, Jared is a Property Developer, Class Differences, Trailer Trash Jensen, Bottom Jensen Ackles/Top Jared Padalecki, Lovers to enemies to lovers, Food, Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Porn Video, jensen has a mustache, long-haired jensen ackles, Lies, Secrets, Happy Ending Language: English

Summary:

Jensen, 39, is a down-on-his-luck weed dealer in Garden, Texas. Garden is a former ranching town gentrified by an influx of Silicon Valley exiles that work in the shiny, new office buildings built by JPX, Inc.

Jensen unexpectedly inherits a trailer park from his uncle. But what Jensen really wants to do is open a food truck selling refined comfort food. The decommissioned ice cream van sitting on blocks in front of his trailer is a daily reminder of his unfulfilled dreams.

Jared, 35, is the rich owner of JPX, Inc. who wants to tear down the trailer park to put up a ritzy mall. Jared’s ex-boyfriend, Stephen Amell, is in town from New York City: to force Jensen and the lovable residents of Garden Gardens to sell by using his usual arsenal of dirty tricks.

But when Jared meets Jensen at the Farmer’s Market where Jensen is trading weed for pickles with his best friend Danneel, it’s love at first sight. At least, until Jensen finds out who Jared is.

Chapter 7 Summary:

JPX, Inc. buys the tax lien. How desperate will Jensen get to find the money to pay it off? Jared and Jeff help Jensen move. Misha has unsavory suggestions. Jensen learns about things Jared was keeping from him.

[lboogie1906]

Robert Wood (1844 - ?) is believed to be one of the first African American mayors in the US. He served as mayor of Natchez, Mississippi. He was born to Susie Harris, an African American housekeeper, and Dr. Robert Wood, a white doctor from Virginia. His parents never married but lived side by side. He was never enslaved and lived mostly with his father, a former mayor of Natchez.

Mississippi Governor James L. Alcorn appointed him as mayor of Natchez, Mississippi in 1869. He was elected mayor in 1870. His election was part of the “Black and Tan Revolution,” a short-lived political shift in Mississippi in which citizens of Mississippi elected many African Americans to state offices (1868-75). At its peak in 1873, half of Mississippi’s state elected officials were Black.

He built Natchez’s first school for African Americans in 1871. He worked closely with John R. Lynch, the Congressman representing the area during the Reconstruction era. Both worked as printers at a Natchez printing company before their political careers.

After his term as mayor of Natchez, he served as postmaster and tax collector for the city. In 1875 he was elected Sheriff of Adams County, Mississippi.

He operated a store in Washington, Mississippi. He lost much of his property during a fire in Washington. He married Susan Collins and had two children. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[wuxiaphoenix]

On Characters: Vampire Pizza Deliveryman

Eternal life in darkness is just not all it’s cracked up to be. You need to hide by day, you need to feed by night - and for both of those, it helps if you have a job. Oh, sure, if your last name is Addams, or you’re related to Barnabas Collins, you might have both the familial wealth and the luck to hang onto it through the centuries so you don’t need to be gainfully employed.

But for most of us regular Joes who get bit, that’s not going to be in the tarot cards. Even if you don’t need groceries, you need transportation, clothes every decade or so, a roof over your head... sure, that last may be a crypt, but you’d better have the money to pay the property taxes on it. Or see it seized by Uncle Sam, and have your permission to be there revoked by judicial fiat, probably just as you’re trying to escape a fatal sunburn. Ouch.

So. You need a job. Odds are you need a nightshift job, where you don’t have to worry about seeing the sun. Night security guard. Morgue janitor. Pizza deliveryman.

I can hear the objections to that last already. “But what about the garlic?”

Ha. Ha ha hah, mine is an evil laugh....

Ahem. Despite the claims of Italian food fanatics everywhere, it’s not the spice of garlic that makes vampires reel back. In folklore, it’s the garlic flower.

Those are what Van Helsing correctly uses to keep Dracula from Lucy Westenra’s throat. Only to be thwarted by people who couldn’t stand the “stinking rose”. A phrase that makes me wonder if people claiming the antibacterial qualities of garlic were what made it folklore-effective against vampires were completely, utterly wrong.

Two reasons. First, see the fact that it’s the flowers that are supposed to be effective, not eating the cloves.

Second - roses and related species like hawthorns traditionally are effective against vampires. Hawthorn is one of the best woods for stakes, and if you put a blooming wild rose on a vampire’s coffin, it’s trapped inside indefinitely.

Which puts the massive floral displays at funerals in an entirely different light. It could be an expression of unbearable grief. Or... it could be “now stay dead, darn it!”

So maybe garlic flowers ward vampires off because roses do?

Also, garlic flowers require some work to get. And getting the plant to set viable seed was thought to be impossible, up until someone pulled it off in Israel about a decade back. Turns out it likes a very specific daylength that comes from the Mediterranean latitude where the species was originally domesticated. In most of Europe it’s too far north for good seed, and flowers are... well, you get them nowadays because people have better varieties. In the Victorian era they took a little more work!

And “hard to get” is a common trait of things used in folk magic against malevolent influences, evil spirits, and bad luck. Four-leaf clovers, say. Stones with natural holes worn through them. Or hairs plucked from a live moon-bear’s chest. Eep.

Long story short. Unless the pizza place does specialty orders that provide garlic flowers to nosh on along with the pizza, your vampire should be safe. Ish. As safe as any pizza delivery guy gets, anyway.

And probably a lot safer than most. After all, how many vampires are lucky enough to have food invite them in...?

[p-oconnor]

Is Collin Central Appraisal District Efficient with Budgets?

The Collin Central Appraisal District’s budget management affects local property tax rates. Learn about its spending priorities and how it aims to provide accurate assessments with efficient use of funds. You may find more information by clicking here Collin Central Appraisal district

[oconnor2023]

Join the thousands who have saved on their property taxes with O'Connor

Say goodbye to high property taxes by utilizing expert help through O'Connor's Property Tax Protection Program in Collin County. Also, pay only when successful reductions occur.

[dankusner]

TEXAS HOUSE Newbies to fill 9 area seats

ELECTIONS ’24

Four candidates, two from each party, are running unopposed

Thanks to a wave of retirements and primary election defeats, nine North Texas seats in the state House will be filled by newcomers after the Nov. 5 election.

Four candidates are running unopposed.

The local races without a House incumbent are:

DISTRICT 33

Katrina Pierson, Republican:

Pierson is running unopposed and will be the next lawmaker for a district that includes all of Rockwall County and a portion of Collin County.

Pierson defeated Rep. Justin Holland, R-Rockwall, in the May 28 primary runoff election, 56% to 44%.

A former national spokesperson for former President Donald Trump’s 2016 presidential campaign, Pierson ran as a candidate who would reform the Texas House and opposes Democrats serving as chairs of legislative committees.

She supports Rep. David Cook, R-Mansfield to replace Dade Phelan, R-Beaumont, as House speaker.

DISTRICT 61

Tony Adams, Democrat:

Adams, a small-business owner in Collin County, is running on unifying and working collaboratively with Republican lawmakers.

Adams opposes sending public tax dollars to private schools and wants stronger gun laws in Texas.

He also opposes Texas’ near-total ban on abortion.

Adams faces an uphill battle in a solidly Republican district that includes parts of McKinney and Frisco.

Keresa Richardson, Republican: Richardson, CEO of the Lawton Group, defeated Rep. Frederick Frazier, R-McKinney, in the May primary runoff 68% to 32%.

Richardson challenged Frazier’s conservative credentials and received Ken Paxton’s support after Frazier voted to impeach the attorney general.

Richardson said working with Democratic lawmakers gave the minority party too much influence and watered down Republican priorities.

She supports creating a school voucher program and a Texas Border Unit to enforce immigration laws, and she said she believes the state constitution should be amended to require proof of citizenship before an individual can register to vote.

DISTRICT 64

Angela Brewer, Democrat: Brewer, an adjunct professor at the University of North Texas, ran an unsuccessful campaign against Rep. Lynn Stucky, R-Denton, in 2020, losing by 10 points.

Brewer told KERA News that Gov. Greg Abbott’s push to allow school vouchers was one of her big motivations to run and said she is “100% committed against” school choice.

Her other key legislative issue is protecting abortion access, promising to file a bill repealing the state’s abortion ban.

Andy Hopper, Republican:

Hopper, an engineer and chief warrant officer for the Texas State Guard, defeated Stucky in the May primary runoff by 12 points, receiving the support of Paxton.

He signed the “Contract with Texas,” a pledge to support conservative priorities, including a ban on Democratic committee chairs and term limits for House speaker.

He supports school choice and believes the Legislature should make it a crime to travel out of state for an abortion.

DISTRICT 65

Detrick DeBurr, Democrat:

DeBurr, a software engineer and planning and zoning commissioner for The Colony, said he is running because he believes the district, which cuts east to west across Denton County, has seen tremendous growth and by serving as commissioner, he understands what priorities are needed.

DeBurr describes himself as “very conservative, yet thoughtful and compassionate.”

His legislative priorities include increasing public school funding and expanding Medicaid in Texas.

Mitch Little, Republican:

Little was an impeachment lawyer for Paxton during last year’s Senate trial.

He defeated Rep. Kronda Thimesch, R-Lewisville, in the March primary. His campaign priorities include election integrity, reducing property taxes, securing the U.S.-Mexico border and reforming the House, saying change is needed to advance conservative priorities.

DISTRICT 91

David Lowe, Republican:

Lowe is running unopposed after defeating Rep. Stephanie Klick, R-Fort Worth,

in the May 28 runoff, despite Klick having Abbott’s backing and serving as chair of the Public Health Committee.

Lowe, an Army veteran, criticized Klick from the right, including her vote to impeach Paxton.

Lowe was endorsed by Paxton and supports eliminating property taxes, opposes red flag gun safety laws and wants to eliminate in-state college tuition for undocumented migrants.

DISTRICT 97

Carlos Walker, Democrat:

Walker, director of Fort Worth ISD’s Family Action Center, lists four priorities on his campaign website: public education, property tax relief, women’s rights and support for farmers.

The Republican-leaning district includes western Tarrant County.

John McQueeney, Republican:

McQueeney, the CEO of Vision Companies, lists his priorities as border security, increasing school funding, passing school choice, helping foster business growth and protecting the First Amendment.

The district is currently represented by Rep. Craig Goldman, R-Fort Worth, who is running for Congress.

DISTRICT 107

Linda Garcia, Democrat:

Garcia, an entrepreneur and financial literacy educator, is running unopposed to replace Rep. Victoria Neave Criado, D-Dallas,

who challenged Dallas Sen. Nathan Johnson in the Democratic primary but lost.

Garcia wants to expand Medicaid, invest more in infrastructure and affordable housing, restore reproductive rights and increase funding for public schools.

DISTRICT 109

Aicha Davis, Democrat:

Davis is running unopposed to replace Rep. Carl Sherman, D-DeSoto, who was defeated in the Democratic primary for U.S. Senate. Davis is a six-year member of the State Board of Education. She opposes universal school vouchers, believes teachers should get a pay raise and does not support legislative efforts to restrict access to books deemed inappropriate for children.

DISTRICT 115

Cassandra Hernandez, Democrat: Hernandez is seeking to replace Rep. Julie Johnson, D-Farmers Branch, who is running for Congress. Hernandez, an attorney, lists gun violence reform as a key issue. Her campaign website says she lost her father to gun violence. Her other priorities include expanding Medicaid, cutting property taxes and addressing the fentanyl crisis.

John Jun, Republican: Jun, a Navy veteran and attorney, is a former member and mayor pro tem of the Coppell City Council. He said he opposes school vouchers and would increase school funding. His other legislative priorities include cutting taxes and supporting small businesses by limiting regulations.

[collincountyhomes]

Reading Time: 4 minutes Texas cities are hamstrung by state budget caps that impact the...

[mixotrophics]

so the New Alliance for Food Security and Nutrition is . Fucking despicable.

"We kind of gave Africa to the Europeans first and to the Chinese later, but today it is wide open for us." ... Jeff Immelt, General Electric CEO, 2014

The New Alliance officially involves governments and corporate powers: the European Commission, USA, Canada, UK, Belgium, France, Germany, Ireland, Japan, Russia, Norway ... General Electric, Monsanto, DuPont, Cargill, Yara, Louis Dreyfus, Agro EcoEnergy, others ...

Its aim is to "support" African economies by forcing policy reforms such as:

Protecting intellectual property rights, especially patents on GMO seeds

Strengthening private property contracts

"Simplifying" tax codes ... reducing public resources

Reforming seed laws to support seed patents

Selling public land to private companies

Weakening government control of local agriculture (weakening tariffs , subsidies)

...

The New Alliance is officially in effect only in specific African countries, many of the governments and companies involved are familiar names to those seeing the same processes, the same buying-up of land , in other places. Also countries that participate in modern imperialism aren't part of it (e.g., Australia, New Zealand).

Nevertheless it captures the modern iteration of empire very well.

...

World Hunger: 10 Myths. Frances Moore Lappé and Joseph Collins, 2015.

[p-oconnor]

What Is Collin Central Appraisal District's Role in Taxes?

Curious about the Collin Central Appraisal District? It assesses property values, impacting taxes for residents. Understanding its operations and budgeting helps taxpayers see where funds are directed You may find more information by clicking here Collin Central Appraisal district

[oconnor2023]

Why are apartment owners so loyal to their property tax appeals?

Dig into the reasons behind the strong loyalty among Collin County apartment owners appealing their property taxes year after year, leading to significant reductions in owed taxes.