#it’s a two year grant funded position and I only plan to be here two years anyway like that really works out perfect??

[lovelyisadora]

job searching Sucks like what do you mean I need a teaching certification. nowhere in this job listing does it say I need a teaching certification!!

[seospicybin]

PROFESSIONAL COURTESY.

PROLOGUE

Felix x reader. (s)

Chapters: Part I / Part II

Synopsis: Discovering that his new boss is someone he had one night stand with, Felix struggles to separate work life and personal business. And at times, finding himself mixing those two as he works under your dominance. (9,8k words)

Author's note: I hope you like it. I hope you really do because it's only the prologue hehe

Felix works at a sports news outlet, Sports One.

Initially, he wanted to become one of the contributing journalists in the team but he got hired for a different position instead. As long as he got in, the only thing to do was work his way up to get to that.

However, the climb to the dream job isn't easy.

For the last two years, he's been working as an assistant to the editor in chief and recently, the one he worked for got fired for money and sex scandals which brings disadvantages to the company as the name swirls around with his name along with the many indecent things he did.

The position now is vacant and that leaves Felix's future uncertain. In his defense, he did nothing wrong, he got interrogated as well because of the scandals and proven to have no connection whatsoever to the scandals which secured his job for now. But it seems like he has to wait until someone takes over the position to find out his fate.

There's a rumor going around the office that the managing editor will be appointed Editor in Chief, not only because he's been loyal to the company for the last eight years but he's been indirectly taking the role while the real one was busy embezzling fund and using the money to party with underage girls.

Rather than moaning about his uncertain future, Felix helps around the department and he likes it, it gives him an idea of what it's like when he becomes a contributing journalist.

"You're working harder than most people here," the managing editor, Mr. Kang, says.

Felix shyly smiles as he continues typing on one of the contributing journalists' computers, "I take it as a warm-up session because I'll be working for you soon," he teasingly says to him, hinting at the rumor.

Mr. Kang lets out a sonorous laugh, "I'm afraid I'll be taking Yoon with me," he says.

Yoon is his assistant who has been working for him for three years, the most loyal but also the most mouthful, she's responsible for the 90% of rumors spreading around the office.

"But you know what, I like seeing where you're sitting now, Felix. I think you belong in this chair," Mr. Kang adds with a sly smile and eyebrow raised.

His future suddenly gets so bright and hopeful, he can see how beautiful it is but still out of his reach. Nevertheless, he only needs the rumor to come true so he can have this chair.

Yoon may have been responsible for the 90% of the rumors spreading around the office but the accuracy is below 50%, the rumor could be 50% true or 50% rumor, he also can't ignore the possibility that Yoon started this rumor just to build people's opinions to favor her boss.

In other words, Felix's future is uncertain still.

For the first time, Felix chose to believe in the rumor and manifest it hard because who knows? If he thinks of it hard enough, the universe may grant his wish, and the climb would be over.

-

It's Friday night and Felix has planned his night.

First, he's going to his friend's for his housewarming party which reminds him to buy wine as a present. The perks of being an assistant to a vacant position are not only that he can leave work early, but he can also ride his bike to work.

He puts on his leather jacket, gets on his bike, and turns the engine on, the bike is roaring alive as it's vibrating between his legs. He then puts on his helmet to finally ride his bike out of the building and into the world.

There's nothing like it, the feeling of riding through the city streets as adrenaline adrenaline surging all over his veins as he pushes the speed closer to the limit.

Arriving at his friend's house, Felix parks his bike next to the gate since the driveway is packed with cars already. His friend doesn't even own the house, it belongs to his girlfriend who recently bought it with the money she makes from working as an art dealer.

The house is in the most luxurious and exclusive suburb, sitting on the hill that overlooks the city so Felix can't lie, he's impressed.

The house seems average from the outside but once he gets inside, it's so big and spacious, filled with expensive shiny, furniture.

"It's a nice house," Felix says as his friend welcomes him in.

Suddenly, the wine he bought for a housewarming gift feels so cheap in his hand. He hesitates to give it to him but his friend has seen him carrying it and it would be rude not to give it to him.

"A housewarming gift," he says, awkwardly handing it to him

"Thank you," he takes it from his hand and proceeds to take him on a house tour.

It doesn't take long for him to feel overwhelmed by everything he's seen inside the house, also, he doesn't see anyone he knows in there except for the host of the party.

Felix decides to step out of the fancy house and head to the garden, he sees a group of people there, smoking and chatting. Tempted, he comes up to them and politely asks for a cigarette. Not only did they give one to him, but also lit it for him.

Not wanting to bother them more, Felix heads out of the gate and walks around the area while taking slow drags of his smoke.

It's the most luxurious piece of land yet they provide such poor streetlights, if it wasn't for the full moon that shines so brightly, it would be dimly-lit streets.

His phone beeps with a new notification, and he checks it with the cigarette dangling in the corner of his mouth. It's a text from his other friend, telling him to join him at the bar. He composes a reply before shoving his phone back into his leather jacket pocket.

When he looks up, he senses the presence of another person there but he can only make out the shape of a figure that walks toward him from the opposite direction. He can't see the person but he hears the clicking of their shoes against the pavement then a loud, cracking sound.

"Fuck!" A voice says.

Felix stops walking and takes the cigarette dangling between his teeth. Just because it's an exclusive real estate doesn't mean it's free from criminal acts. He feels alerted as the voice keeps cursing and sighing but he waits there to see if the person will eventually reveal himself.

A light shines out of nowhere then he notices it's coming from a phone screen and there he sees, a face, a beautiful face that he believes belongs to a girl.

"Hello, yes, can I order a taxi?" You talk on the phone.

The voice confirmed it, you are a girl. Felix immediately tosses his cigarette butt onto the pavement and steps on it.

"Hi, hello?" He hesitantly greets.

With your phone still pressed close to your ear, you immediately step back in horror, realizing that there's someone else there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overhear, I..." he starts explaining but you keep retreating as if he'd hurt you.

Felix raises his hands to show he doesn't bring anything with him and doesn't mean to harm you, "I'm here for a party and I was just walking while smoking when I found you calling for a taxi," he explains.

You remain cautious and hold your phone in one hand, ready to call the police if you need to. While the other hand is carrying your broken shoes which he guesses, you won't hesitate to fling it to him if you need to.

"Yes. And?" You ask with a glare at him.

"It's tough luck to get a taxi here, even if you get one, you will have to wait for at least half an hour," he says, keeping his hands visible at all times, or that shoes will fly at his face.

"And that's if you're lucky," he adds.

You put your hands down to your sides and let out a sigh, "What are you suggesting?"

"It seems like you need help to get somewhere, I mean, I can give you a ride," Felix carefully says, he doesn't want to sound like a creep saying that but there's no other way to say it.

You look at him, scanning him up and down with laser eyes that could see through him.

"Why?" You ask with a voice that is heavy with suspicion.

Somehow, Felix finds the whole situation funny and can't help but let out a laugh. But that seems to give you the wrong impression, he quickly gets ahold of himself and puts on a normal expression.

"I was about to leave the party anyway so I don't see why not," he simply answers.

Seeing that you're still suspicious of him, he decides not to force the help on you, "But if you have ordered a taxi then I'll just..."

He pretends to walk away just to give you not much time to think about his offer, he starts to regret it though that after a few steps away, you don't call for him.

"Fuck. Why did I bother?" He sighs to himself as he digs his hand into his leather jacket pocket, "This is so fucking—"

"Hey, wait!" You finally call for him.

Felix is having a moment of triumph, he quietly smiles and slowly, turns around on his feet and keeps a coy expression on his face.

"Yes?"

"Can you please give me a ride?" You ask, suddenly turning into this girl with puppy eyes that shine even under the dim light.

Somehow, that works to melt his insides and he can't find it in him to say no to you.

"Sure," he says with a smile.

You come up to him while hugging your purse and shoes in front of you.

"I hope you don't mind we have to walk a little," he says.

"It's okay," you mutter, even though it doesn't seem comfortable to walk barefoot on a cool night like this.

The walk back to his friend's house is quiet with the moonlight that shines through the tree branches illuminating both of your faces and the occasional sigh you let out from walking barefooted against the cold pavement. He thinks of offering himself to carry either your purse or your shoes for you, but that would only make you suspicious of him again.

Arrived at the gate of his friend's house, Felix turns around to face you, "You can wait here while I—"

"I don't mind walking a little more," you insist, hugging your purse tighter in front of you.

Well, Felix can't stop you but it's a good thing that he didn't park the bike far from the gate. The keys are jingling as he fishes it out of his jeans pocket.

"So, where did you park your car?" You ask in confusion while craning your neck to the row of cars parked in the driveway.

"Uhm... actually," he scratches his head as he walks over to his bike to show you what he rides.

There's an unreadable expression on your face but he sees how one corner of your mouth slightly quivering, not pleased with what you're seeing.

Felix unlocks the trunk under the seat to get a helmet for you, he then gives it to you.

"I'll drive safely," he assures you before you can say something about it.

-

The bike launches forward as it stops right in front of the hotel and Felix is more than glad for the journey to end. The front of his jacket is crumpled from how you've been clinging to him for dear life and he didn't even ride in high speed.

He pushes his visor open and looks over his shoulder while offering his hand as a support to help you get off the bike.

When you take his hand, your hand is cold as ice and he feels bad for not insisting you to wear his jacket.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he sees you slightly staggering backward the moment your bare feet touch the pavement.

You use his shoulder to steady yourself and let out a sigh, "I'm okay," you tell him.

You take another step back and that's where he can see fully see you. You're wearing a silk blouse with a tight skirt, he notices the flimsy stocking and the expensive designer purse but the strap is a little torn, either from overuse or someone yanked at it too hard.

Wait, it reminds him of how his former boss likes to have a lady escort wherever he goes and they usually dressed exactly like this.

"For the ride, can I... pay you with money?" You suddenly ask then rummaging inside your bag, accidentally exposing a bundle of cash inside.

"No, no, it's okay. You don't have to pay me," he quickly refuses.

First the hotel, then the way you dressed, and now the cash... could it be true?

You pull your hand out of the bag and hug it close to your chest, "Then how can I— Can I at least buy you drinks at the hotel bar?"

The hotel surely has better alcohol than the bar where his friend is waiting, but then again, what if it's true? That you're a lady escort and you ask for money at the end of the night?

"No," he refuses again, he's smiling but eagerly shaking his head, "No need. I'm just happy to help."

"Are you sure?" You ask again while hugging yourself.

"Yes," he hastily replies.

"I don't feel good knowing I owe someone something," you tell him.

"You don't owe me anything," he assures you, "I'm just happy to help."

You feel dejected by it then slowly nodding your head in understanding, "Then, I have nothing else to say but thank you," you sincerely say.

"No problem," he coyly says.

You look at him and hold his gaze for a moment before looking away, "I should head inside."

"Yeah, it's cold," he says, seeing that you're shivering the longer you stand outside with no shoes on.

You turn around to leave but he calls for you, making you turn on your feet right away.

"Yes?"

"My helmet," he says, pointing to your head.

"Oh?" You shyly laugh, realizing that you still wearing it.

Noticing that you're struggling, he gets off his bike and stands in front of you to help you unclasp the straps under your chin, then slowly take it off of you.

"Thanks," you say with a sheepish smile and quickly fix your hair.

Felix holds the helmet on his side and standing there looking at you. This is the first time he can see you wholly under the bright light of the hotel entrance. Your hair is flying around from the wind and your eyes are flickering, offering warmth that he didn't know he sought.

Suddenly, he doesn't feel like going, he wants to follow you inside and lingers in the warmth of your gaze.

"Once again, thank you," you mutter with a smile, the sincerest smile he ever seen on you.

It gets him so flustered out of nowhere that he looks down and holds the helmet in one hand, "Don't mind it."

You seem to have something else to say to him but decide not to say it out loud. You gulp air and stifle a nod, "Have a good night!"

"You too," he says back.

This time, you turn around and keep walking without looking back, entering the hotel with the doorman politely greeting you and opening the door for you.

And that's the last he's seen of you.

-

Or that's what Felix thought.

He forgot about your shoes until he stopped at the bar and opened his trunk to put his helmet inside. It's a pair of strappy, black sandals with one of the heels broken and flapping open on the back of the sole.

If this is expensive, you would have asked for it but since you didn't, he guesses it's better to throw it into the trash. It's broken anyway.

Felix carries the shoes with him to the side of the bar where the dumpster is and as he's about to toss it in, a girl who smokes there notices what he's about to dump.

"Wait, wait, wait!" She comes running to stop him from whatever he's doing.

"Yes?" He asks in confusion.

"Are you throwing away those shoes?" She asks with eyes widening in slight horror.

"Excuse me?"

"The shoes," she points at the shoes.

"Uh... yes," he stammers with the shoes still hanging in the air around his hand.

"Just give it to me, please?" The girl says she's not even asking but urging him to give it to her.

"Why?"

"I want those shoes," she simply answers with a fake big smile just to soften him.

But he senses that she knows the real value of the shoes and that's why she wants it so badly. Felix puts down his hand and hides the shoes behind him.

"No, I'm not throwing it away," he says.

"Why? Why?" She stammers, trying to peek behind his back for the shoes, "How about I buy it from you?"

"No, I was... I was mad at my girlfriend and threatened her with the shoes. I didn't plan on throwing it away, I'm just... just trying to scare her," Felix made up a story on the spot just to get rid of the girl.

The girl doesn't buy it or she's simply persistent on buying the shoes from him, "Well, I'll buy it still and you can—"

Felix hides the shoes inside his jacket and hugs it close to his body, "No, I'm sorry. I can't do that. This is not for sale."

The girl keeps following him and insisting on buying the shoes, her persistence is admirable but it starts to scare him as she almost follows him into the restroom of the bar. He even locked the door just in case she tried to barge in.

Felix takes a moment to breathe after putting down the shoes on the top of the sink. Seeing how much the girl wanted to buy it from him, makes him curious about how much it costs.

He pulls his phone out to do a quick internet search, he takes a picture of it to get a definitive result and he lets out a gasp from finding out how these shoes cost a fortune, like a whole lot of fortune.

A lady escort can't afford this, he reckons. Let's say it's a gift from someone but it's a lot to be considered as a gift a rich person gave to their favorite lady escort.

He suddenly treasures the shoes more than before, he clutches them close to his chest and protects them as he walks through the crowded bar.

"Oi, Felix, we're here!" His friend shouts from across the room.

"I have to go!" He shouts back.

"You just got here. Where are you—"

He can't hear the rest of the sentence as his voice is drowned out by the music and the chatters, and he pushes through the packed hallway, and then out of the door.

Felix has a new plan tonight: Return the shoes to you.

-

How many people walked into a hotel barefooted though? Surely not much so it shouldn't be a problem for the lady at the reception to identify you. She gets suspicious of him instead for not even knowing either your first or last name.

"I'm not allowed to share our customer's information," she says.

What is it with people being suspicious of him tonight?

"I'm not asking for her information," he reminds himself to keep calm, "I just need to return these to her."

Felix puts the shoes on the top of the counter and he knows these are broken shoes but he has an explanation prepared if she gives him a funny look.

"You can leave this with us and we'll make sure to hand it to the rightful owner," she says with a courteous smile.

But that's not what he wants, he wouldn't even bother coming here just to give it to the lady at the reception. She's not who he wants to see.

Felix puts on his charming smile and leans forward on the counter, "I'm planning on handing these personally to her so can you help me?"

Instead of winning her over, the lady seems a little creeped out by it so she slowly takes a step back.

"Can you call her room and tell her that I want to return her shoes," he pauses to lean closer and amplifies his charm before saying the magic word, "Please?"

Felix is cringing inside but he keeps his smile on for another second and it works, he's still got it.

"Let's see what I can do for you," she says.

He intently watches as the lady calls your room and talks to you through the phone, asking if it's okay for him to come up to your room to hand you the shoes.

The lady eventually hangs up the phone and Felix looks at her with hopeful eyes, waiting for her to say something.

The lady cracks a smile and then says, "She's on the 25th floor, suite 15."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Felix grabs at her hand in joy and quickly lets go once he notices.

In the elevator that takes him to the 25th floor, Felix starts to get a bit nervous. He's aware that returning the shoes is a weak reason for him to come here when the truth is, he wants to take what you offered him earlier.

He fixes his leather jacket and then the collar of his shirt next, he brushes his hair as much as he can just to make it look less of a mess.

He raises his hand then it stays hovering for about a few seconds as he musters up the courage to finally knock on the door.

Felix's foot anxiously bounces against the carpeted floor as he waits by the door and holds your shoes with both hands in front of him.

A moment later, the door finally opens and there you are, standing behind the door dressed in a white hotel bathrobe.

"Come in," you say, leaving the door open for him as you head inside the room.

It takes Felix a few seconds to come to his senses as the door is slowly closing, he hurriedly stops it with his hand and then gets inside.

As you stand there in the middle of the room of the suite you're staying in that is too big for one person, he notices that you're not wearing the bathrobe for the sake of being in a hotel room, you've just showered. There's no speck of makeup on your face and your hair is damp, it feels like he's seeing a different you from the one he met earlier, pristine and bare.

"I'm sorry, but what is your name again?" You ask with a hand on your waist.

As a matter of fact, you both haven't gotten the chance to introduce each other and he blames that entirely on his haste judgments for thinking you're something that you're actually not.

"It's Felix," he eloquently answers.

You look at him then eyeing the shoes he's been holding on his side, "Well, Felix, you can put them down somewhere," you tell him.

It would be rude to just drop them anywhere, he opts for a piece of furniture he sees for the first time and carefully puts your broken shoes on top of the dresser.

"Please, have a seat!" You tell him as you waltz to the bucket of ice and a bottle of liquor he guesses you have ordered even before he came here.

There are so many options to sit but he decides on the long sofa that could fit five people and sits on the far end of it, fiddling with his jacket, wondering whether to take it off or not.

"I hope you like cognac," you say as you come up to him with a drink in hand.

Felix immediately aborts his plan to take his jacket off to take the drink from your hand, he hesitantly takes a sip as you sit so close next to him when there's so much space left on the sofa but you choose to corner him.

"So Felix," you shift your body to face him and gracefully cross your legs, "what made you come here?"

If you can afford to stay in a suite at a 5-star hotel, then you definitely can afford the same pair of shoes you broke tonight. He stares at his drink for a while as if it would tell him the answer to your question because he doesn't know what made him come here, but he knows it's not because of the shoes.

"The drinks," he settles on a safe answer, "You offered me drinks and I took the offer a bit late, I hope you don't mind.

"I don't mind at all," you say with one corner of your mouth raised higher than the other, "I got a feeling that someone is coming. That's why I ordered a bottle in the first place."

He nods and takes another small sip of his drink, funny that he can't taste the alcohol at all, it tastes oddly sweet and light, or maybe the effect unknowingly has taken over him.

"It's nice to have drinks with someone," you add.

Yet Felix is the only one with a drink in hand and you're only watching him drinking his alcohol with your fingers pressed against your temple.

The way you're looking at him makes me feel like an object that is being studied, but he likes that it makes him feel fascinating to you. He'll like it more if your eyes look a little less intimidating.

You suddenly let out a low chuckle "Want to know something?"

Felix swallows his drink first to answer you, "Yes."

"I was having a really bad night tonight," you share with a sad smile, "Until you came."

He doesn't know how to react to that because that came out of you unexpectedly, catching him off guard. The only thing he can do is smile and have another sip of his drink.

Noticing that he almost drains his glass empty, you hurriedly take the bottle and refill it for him, "Then you refused my offer about the drinks and I must say I felt a little dejected."

You settle yourself back to your seat and somehow, you sit closer to him, leaving just enough space between your bodies.

"But here you are, making my night a lot better," you continue with a voice that turns lower than before, almost like a whisper.

For the first time, Felix braves himself to look at you and sees how you're staring back at him with eyes that know no fear, unwavering. It makes him nervous, but at the same time, it inexplicably arouses him.

"You get me wondering..." You take the drink from his hand and have a long sip without your eyes straying away from his.

Your eyes get him thinking of filthy things and wanting to do those things to you, he deeply wishes if that's what you've been wondering, if you allow him to do those things to you.

He swallows air as you put the drink away and put your attention back on him, he's dying to know the rest of the sentence.

You reach for the collar of his leather jacket and slide your hand down the lapel, you're only touching the jacket but he's shivering as if you're touching his skin.

"I wonder if things could get any better than this," you finally finish your sentence.

Your eyes meet again in a gaze and you grab the front of his jacket, pulling him close so you can crash your lips against him.

Felix pulls himself together to return the kiss, putting all of him to impress you because that's all he can think of, he wants to impress you. To do that, he dares himself to have a little control, putting his hand on your jaw to angle your head to the side so he can deepen the kiss.

You let out a low moan as he parts your mouth open with his tongue and slips it inside, tasting more of you. Your hand is crumpling the front of his shirt and pulling him closer as the kiss goes deeper.

There's no way he doesn't enjoy kissing you, the way you keep letting him in and responding to his kiss, oh... he can't stop even though he feels a little lightheaded from running out of breath.

You notice it too as you slowly pull away but keep your lips lingering only inches away from his lips, teasing, tempting him to kiss you again.

You lean in with your mouth slightly parted open, brushing your lips against his repeatedly so that your warm breath is the only thing he's inhaling.

Felix boldly decides to be the one going for it now so he leans in only to find you slowly backing away from him.

"I can make things get any better than this," you confidently mutter to him.

With a sly smile, you get up from the sofa as you dramatically take your hand off him, you take the bottle of alcohol in one hand and a glass in the other hand, walking away from him to show him where to go so he can follow. You slide open the two doors that lead to the bedroom and leave them open for him.

There is it, the answer he's been looking for, he came here not to return the shoes, not for the drinks but it's for whatever is waiting for him behind those doors.

-

With the doors left ajar, Felix can see you sitting on the end of the bed, legs crossed with your thighs exposed and a drink in hand. The eyes you're giving him are different, they're fierce and full of anticipation as if you're expecting something from him.

After a moment of just looking at him with those eyes, you put down your drink and rest it on your lap.

"You can take your jacket off," you say.

But it doesn't sound like a choice, you want him to take his jacket off, it's an order and he's more than fine to oblige. He pulls them down and shakes the jacket down his arms, tossing it to the chair nearby.

There the eyes again, you sip your drink with your eyes staying on him.

"I like the shirt," you say after swallowing your drink.

That's not a compliment, to him, that translates as you want the shirt off him too, and again, he obeys without complaint, working open the buttons on his shirts one by one with his eyes looking back at you.

The pupils in your eyes dilated as Felix parts open his shirt, revealing his toned body with the room providing proper lighting to showcase his abs. He then tosses the shirt onto the chair, piling on his leather jacket.

Your eyes straying away from his face, they're traveling down his body and he notices the eyebrows raise, a sign that tells him something piques your interest.

For the last piece of clothing, Felix wants you to try a little or at least, make it fair. He knows that you're wearing nothing under that bathrobe and that's fair to him, but he wants to uncover you first because you've been showing a lot yet so little at the same time.

"Want to know why I came here?" He asks you, walking up to you to get the drink out of your hand.

You look up at him as he gulps the rest of the alcohol, he winces as he forces it down his throat and puts the glass aside to get it out of the way.

"I came to make things better for you," he mutters.

He leans down, propping his arms against the mattress and caging you in between them. With him leaning so close and half-naked, he expects it does something to you but you don't falter, not even a little.

Instead, he finds you looking back into his eyes and then you take his hand, placing it on the belt of your bathrobe, allowing him to undress you, in other words, satisfying his need to see your body.

He becomes the one who's nervous for both of you, he tries to remain calm, slowly untying your bathrobe with one hand as tension rises in the room. He has to prepare himself well before parting them open, uncovering your beautiful mounds to him with your nipples erected from being exposed to the cool night air.

Just before he puts his hand away, you take it in your hand again and use it to touch you. Tilting your head to the back, you use the back of his hand to touch your neck and drag it down your front, stopping right on your sternum, you steer his hand to the side.

Now you're using his palm and making him cup your breast in his hand, keeping it there as you lock his eyes in a gaze again.

"You see that?" You ask him as you hold your breast up with his hand, "It looks so perfect in your hand."

Felix is tongue-tied, speechless, his eyes can't catch up to what he's touching but indeed, the way your breast fits perfectly in his hand, he can't help but think that it was made for him.

"Mmh..." you lowly moan as you knead on your breast using his hand.

He can no longer resist himself but uses his hand, touching you as he wants and you eventually let go of your hand, letting him do as he pleases.

You pull him by the neck so you can kiss him, keeping his mouth busy as his hand fondling on your breast and pinching at your nipple once in a while.

Without him realizing, your hand is making its way to the waistband of his jeans. You use both hands to pop open the button and then swiftly unzip his fly, wasting no time to put your hand inside his boxer next.

He has to admit that was impressive, considering that you did all that without looking but he has no time to tell you that when his tongue is in your mouth and your hand is palming his semi-hard cock.

With the current position no longer comfortable for him, he climbs onto the bed and you seem to be more than okay with him hovering above you, if anything, it gives you more reach inside his pants.

That applies to him too, he moves his hand down your front, and he moves slowly as he knows that he's close to where he wants. He lets out a low sigh the second his hand makes contact with your sex, it's soft and delicate like touching a flower.

It's a good thing that he knows how to treat such a beautiful, fragile thing. So he touches you there with so much gentleness and care, that he can feel it blooming under his touch.

It works wonders as you can't seem to keep up with his kisses and your hand is pausing a few times at stroking his cock. You suddenly take your hand out and pull him close only to flip him over, forcing him to take his hand off you.

As you sit straddling him, you take the chance to remove your bathrobe, exposing your naked body to him and only him. Then you crawl over, not stopping until your cunt is right above his mouth, and carefully, you sit on his face.

Felix is not prepared, let alone ready for it but he knows how to use his mouth, especially with how wet and warm you are on his mouth. Just because he's not ready, doesn't mean he's giving up the chance to please you with his mouth.

As you move your hips back and forth against his mouth, you take his hands and place them on your breasts again, guiding him to where you want to be touched. Then you drop to the back with your hands propped against his thighs, continuously thrusting your hips against his mouth.

"Oh, fuck..." you breathlessly curse as the profanity echoes in the room.

His fingers circle on both nipples as his mouth takes more of you, sucking on your clit and then using his tongue to drill into your entrance.

"Oh..." you loudly moan, now moving your hips in slow, circular motions.

Felix let go of your breasts, deciding to curve his arms around your thighs to firmly hold you close, sucking on you harder and intentionally pressing his nose against your clit as breathing is not his main concern at the moment.

He knows you're getting closer to your release as you whine and moan, sometimes both. He loosens his hold around you as a breather, repeatedly running his tongue down your slit as he inhales air to fill his shrinking lungs with lots of oxygen.

However, you decide to spice things up by planting your foot against the mattress, giving more space for his mouth and also, so you can see how well he is at using his mouth. You intently watch as he slips his tongue in and out of you with his half-shut eyes looking up at you,

"You know how to use that mouth for good, mmh?" You mutter at him with your hand in his dark locks and tugging at it.

He smiles with his mouth full of you and with your essence dripping around his mouth, and you think you've never seen something as filthy yet sex like this.

Another profanity falls out of your parted mouth along with a breathless moan, you tug at his harder and harder, he's taking them as a sign that you're close to your release.

This is not what he had in mind when he decided to come here but did he regret it? Not a fucking chance. Felix feels like living in one of his wild fantasies but it's real, he can taste it on his tongue and it tastes so fucking good.

With your head thrown to the back, you let out a mix of a mewl and moan at the ceiling, signifying that you indeed have reached your high.

He rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he watches you slowly descending from your high and back to him, where you can see his mouth is drenched with your bodily fluid. You reach for his face, using your fingers to gather your juice, and then shove them into his mouth, not letting them go to waste.

"I must say you're good with your mouth," you say, watching him lick your fingers clean. You flash him a satisfied smile as you pull your fingers out of his mouth before leaning in to kiss him.

Felix is more than relieved to give you that and surprisingly, he doesn't expect anything in return, he's getting pleasure just from pleasing you, he doesn't know if that makes sense.

You slowly retract yourself and straddle him again, this time you sit right on his crotch. When your hand is wrapped around his cock again, he changes his mind immediately, he needs to have his release, preferably with your help but the how is entirely up to you.

"I don't have any condoms with him," you inform as you lightly rub the tip of his cock with your thumb, "But I'm on the pill and I'm clean."

He always carries a condom in his wallet, just in case something like this would happen and his wallet is inside the inner pocket of his leather jacket, he could get up and get it but would he risk this comfort of your hand wrapped around his swollen cock and more importantly, skipping the chance to feel you wholly.

So he nods and opens his mouth to speak, "I'm okay with that."

But you seem too focused on watching your hand pumping his cock as it's getting impossibly harder in your hand.

"So hot..." you sigh while looking at him with eyes filled with bewilderment, "and so hard..."

"So perfect in your hand," he continues your sentence.

You shake your head in disagreement, "I think it's going to be perfect inside me," you murmur.

Hearing you say that makes him think it, imagine it, and wish those words become true. He's confident with both his body and his skill, but remembering that it's going to be his first time doing it raw, his confidence shrinks a little.

You take his hands and pin them above his hands as you're hovering above him, "It's my turn to give you a ride."

Even though the ride in this context is a different thing, Felix should give you the chance to return the favor, right? He keeps his hands there as you kiss him and slowly pull away to shift your focus to the next thing.

You hold his cock upright and slowly rub your cunt against it, wetting it with your essence. Oh, just feeling your wetness around him is enough to make his brain short-circuit.

"Mmh..." you delightfully hum as you repeatedly rub his shaft between your folds.

When you stop, he knows that it's going to be the time. He quietly takes a deep breath and watches as you aim his cock into your entrance, then slowly, you ease yourself down on him.

It's overwhelming to see and feel his cock going inside you, but try not to explode at the same time. Somehow, he keeps watching as his length disappears into you little by little until he's fully sheathed inside you.

The moan that escaped his mouth is raw and hoarse, you smile catching yourself hearing that. You place your hands flat on his chest and look down at him.

"I like that," you lean in to give him an open-mouthed kiss, "that's the most beautiful thing I ever heard."

Felix can't remember the last time he moans during sex because most of the time, the partner does that part for him, but he takes that as a compliment and it's a good thing that you like it.

With eyes closed, you slowly roll your hips to feel his length inside you and he can feel his cock rubbing against your velvety walls. You're so warm, so tight and so good around him, he doesn't stop himself from moaning to tell you that.

"It's that good, huh?" You say with an eyebrow raised and a cheeky laugh.

Unable to answer verbally, he stifles a nod at you.

You gently cup his jaw and mutter, "I want you to keep moaning for me."

And he finds himself nodding at you.

It's not hard to fulfill your request when you're fucking him so good, You're not going fast or slow, you set a steady pace but he's already getting close to his release.

Without protection, he can feel every drag of his cock against your wall as you bounce on it and watch it slips in and out of you making it harder for him to hold himself back.

Aware of it, you slow down and pull him out of you, hurriedly wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock.

"No, not yet," you tell him between your pants.

He can't decide whether he should be thankful that you abruptly stopped or glad that you're doing that, for now, he decides on the latter.

"I haven't had enough of you so you can't cum yet," you say with a hint of assertiveness in your voice.

To his surprise, he finds himself nodding to you again.

After a moment, Felix managed to calm down and gain some of his senses back. He kisses you back as you kiss him while your hand is keeping his cock pumped for the next session.

The second time isn't getting any easier for him, he feels even more sensitive than before and just being inside you strips away all of the senses he just gained back.

"We'll take it slow this time," you mutter with a mischievous smile.

You stick true to your words, rolling your hips back and forth in painstakingly slow motion. You prop your elbows against the mattress to watch his reaction with your face hovering only inches away above him.

"Do you like it?" You ask with a smile, knowing exactly what you're doing to him.

"Yes," he hastily replies.

"So you like it slow, huh?" you say with an easy smile.

Felix starts to think that it's not about the pace, you're just too good at this and it's truly impressive since you're doing all the work while all he's doing is just lying there on his back and moaning for you.

"Getting close, mmh?" You say with a kiss pressed on his jaw.

Indeed he is and you're showing no sign of stopping even though you know, he's afraid that he's going to cum for real this time.

"Just a bit more," you murmur, adding intensity to your thrusts.

It's obvious that you're getting close as well, he can feel you tightening around him and giving him no choice but to—

You pull him out again right on time, you do the same as you did earlier, holding the base of his cock while you're straddling him.

At first, you seem to him like any other girl, beautiful and delicate, wanting to be treated, and spoiled. But here you are, breaking that notion and showing him that you're not just any other girl.

"Can we continue now or do you still need more time?" You ask with your head tilted to the side and a coy smile that lingers on your face.

And how do you have this much stamina in you? He does nothing but he feels exhausted from how you're giving him all sorts of sensations in those two intense sessions.

Maybe Felix likes being the one treated and spoiled like this and only figured it out now because you're the first person to ever do that to him.

"Do as you please," he says, completely surrendering himself to you because he believes you're going to give him what he wants.

Your smile grows wider hearing his words and on the third time, Felix has prepared himself for it but that doesn't stop him from whimpering as you slide him in again.

"Mmh... I like that you're only getting harder inside me," you hum.

You're reaching down for your clit to rub on it, pleasing yourself with him inside you and letting him watch it. He has the best seat in the house for it but his eyes widen in horror once you start clenching around him.

He's torn between letting you continue pleasing yourself or stopping you before it gets too late. He tries to stop you but all that comes out of him are incoherent words.

"Oh... I– Mmh..."

You stop touching yourself and look at him, "What did you say?"

He's shaking his head instead, not wanting to sound like a blabbering buffoon to you.

You let out an amused chuckle and peck his lips, "Very cute."

That one compliment makes him flutter inside and—

"Oh!" You gasp, "I can feel you twitching inside me."

You lean in to give him a long peck on his lips with your hand steadily holding his chin, "You're very, very cute."

Oftentimes, he doesn't like being called cute, he prefers to be seen as this cool guy, and his deep voice supports that title but suddenly, he doesn't mind that at all. He likes being cute, very, very cute for you if that means being a moaning mess under you as you're incessantly fucking him at a fast pace.

You don't stop yourself from moaning as well, grunting as you keep moving with all the strength you have to take him to his high.

Felix's hands fly to grip each side of your waist out of reflex, it's unclear whether he tries to stop you or guide you, either way, there's no way he's making it this time.

"Just a bit more," you breathlessly mutter with your head tilted up at the ceiling.

But Felix is on the brink of exploding into a million pieces with all these overwhelming sensations going on all at once. His nails dug into your flesh and his moans are turning into helpless cries as you tirelessly move.

"I can't, I can't," he repeatedly says, so close to hitting his limit.

You immediately pull him out and this time, you keep your hand wrapped around him, pumping him at a fast pace and concentrating hard on keeping the pace.

He's growling and his fingers clawing at your thighs as your hand does the job of keeping the pleasure going and ultimately, taking him to his release.

It only takes him a few pumps to finally come undone.

"Oh..." his voice breaks.

He can feel everything but at the same time, his body feels numb until he opens his eyes and sees that his legs are shaking and his cum is making white streaks on your stomach.

"That was close, eh?" You say with that coy smile of yours with your hand coated with his seed.

Felix can't remember the rest of the night but one thing he knows for sure is that things can't get any better than this.

-

It feels like he's been sleeping for ages that when he comes to his wake the next morning, he has to force his eyes open like they've been glued shut for a long time.

He slowly rises on the bed, propping his elbow against the mattress, and looks around, the bed is empty, it's just the quiet that hangs in the room that greets him.

He rubs his eyes like it would help him clear his mind and when he hears the footsteps coming, he suddenly pretends to be still sleeping.

But he sees through his squinted eyes, that you're walking into the room in your skirt and bra on, taking something out of your bag, then walking to the mirror that hangs on one side of the wall.

He watches as you meticulously put on your earrings one by one and then fix your hair by brushing it with your fingers. There's something about watching a girl getting ready, it's like he's watching a movie where the character is unaware of the audience in the room.

You head to the bathroom and he lets out a breath of relief for not getting caught watching you getting ready but that's a haste thinking.

"I have to go at 8," you announce as you come out of the bathroom with your blouse still unbuttoned.

Felix scrambles on the bed, pulling the duvet close to his chest, and is busy covering his body like you haven't seen him butt naked last night. Realizing how stupid he makes himself seem, he lets his hand drop and acts casual.

"I'll see myself out in a few minutes," he says, after checking the clock and it's half past seven.

"Take your time," you tell him.

You walk to stand at the side of the bed while tucking the hem of your blouse into your skirt.

"You can stay and order breakfast," you add, smoothing your skirt as you speak.

"My treat," you add.

This time, he can't tell if that's an order or just a courteous offer, so he just sits there on the bed.

"Okay," he innocently answers while blinking his eyes at you.

The phone rings and you gracefully pick it up, pressing the handle to your ear.

"Yes, I'll be there in five minutes," you talk to the phone.

You take your blazer from the hanger and put it on, going around the room to collect your things, shoving them into your bag as you head out of the room.

Felix thinks you're already out of the door but he doesn't hear the door being closed. But he starts dragging himself out of the bed and getting up, sending the duvet slipping down his body.

He stands looking out of the window that offers the city view from this height, butt naked. He stretches his arms out and fumbles when he sees you coming back.

"Felix," you call him from the doorway.

It's too late for him to cover himself so he acts like it doesn't bother him, "Yeah?"

"It was nice meeting you," you say with a smile.

Indeed, it was nice meeting you as well and you made quite the first impression on him, one that he'll likely remember all of his life.

Despite how much he enjoyed last night, the night has turned to day and he has to continue living his life knowing that he'll never see you again.

-

The news that his new boss is coming to the office today doesn't affect Felix's exceptionally good mood.

Yes, he is disappointed that Mr. Kang is not appointed as the new Editor in Chief, not because that means he won't get the promotion he implied a couple of days ago, but because he knows how much he deserves it.

Felix takes his cup of coffee with him to join everyone heading to the auditorium to welcome the new Editor in Chief and he patiently waits until the group of people gathers at the entrance to disperse to get inside, he's not in a hurry anyway.

However, it's at a time like this his mind starts to wander to that night, he can't seem to forget it, not in his wake or even in his sleep.

"I don't think you'll be smiling in the next few minutes," Yoon appears from behind him, her glasses slump down the bridge of her nose and her bangs are perfectly curtained on her forehead.

He gets so used to her appearing out of nowhere just to spread her negative aura and ruin his day, but he tolerates her because if there's one person who knows how much this job takes a toll on him, it's Yoon.

"And here comes the sunshine," Felix says with a forced smile, he has to keep his coy even though she caught himself smiling by himself.

"You can say that promotion goodbye," Yoon says, crossing her arms together in front of her.

"At least, now we know the accuracy of your rumor decreased by 20 percent," he remarks, starting to get in line to enter the auditorium.

"At least, now we know you get to keep the job," Yoon gives a rather too-honest comeback.

"Touche!" He responds, not having anything to say back to that.

Felix chooses to sit on the farthest row from the stage and Yoon occupies the seat next to him, clutching her cardigan together, looking fidgety as always.

"So, you got any dirt on my new boss?" He curiously asks while casually taking sips of his coffee.

"The usual," Yoon says as she leans back on her seat.

"Nepotism, Ivy League graduate, interned at the Finance Times, worked as a contributing editor at Club 9 magazine for a year which is a sports magazine centered around golf by the way, and..." She's rambling on and on, spilling information at a light speed.

Felix often wonders how Yoon acquired all this information, he can't even keep up with the things around him, let alone having the time to learn about someone.

"I wonder why her family sent her here to handle the—"

Felix catches something that he doesn't expect to hear, he quickly swallows his coffee and asks, "What?"

Yoon rolls her eyes and turns her head at him, "She's engaged to this– Was– engaged to another nepo baby—"

But that's not the part he's asking about, "No, I mean... she? My new boss is a she?"

Yoon glares at her this time, glaring as if she's not pleased with what she heard, "You're not going to be a misogynistic fuck who objects to having a female boss, right?"

"No," he quickly denies and Yoon's glare softens a little.

"I'm not expecting my new boss to be a woman," he holds his hands up at her to stop her from attacking him and lets him finish talking first.

"I don't mind at all. I'm just a little... just a little taken aback," he explains, emphasizing that he doesn't mind whether it's a male or a female, his only hope is that his new boss isn't going to give him hell.

The applause erupts in the auditorium as Mr. Kang enters the stage, he sees someone lingering by the side of the stage which he assumes is his new boss.

"There she is. The one you'll be working for," Yoon informs while weakly clapping her hands together.

Felix can't see the face as she stands with her back to the side, but in his opinion, she's dressed a little too neat considering that she's going to work for a sports media outlet.

Mr. Kang finishes with his short speech and it's finally time for him to call the person who stole his chance at leading Sports One.

"Let's give our new Editor in Chief a warm welcome," Mr. Kang leads the applause as he takes a step back for the new Editor in Chief to take the podium.

"I hope it's not someone I knew," Felix jokingly says, standing up to see her.

Yoon snorts as she stays on her seat, amused by what he said, "Pfft... you wish!"

When he sees his new boss take a stand behind the podium and then speak into the mic, his heart skips a beat. He recognizes that face, that voice, and ultimately that smile, it's you, the one he had sex with and indeed, someone he knew.

Felix swears that he meant it as a joke but he wonders, could things get any better than this?

-

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[brian-in-finance]

A Tale of Two Tonys

and Brian knows the difference 😉

Part Four of Four

It was suggested elsewhere in July* Brian confuses the Tonys’ roles. It’s also suggested one Tony entered the spotlight only when a(n imagined) narrative required a participant. (*Waited for today’s Happy Birthday 🥳)

Longer still before TV-Outlander…

The Fratellis — Jon, Mince, and Baz — and manager Tony McGill at SXSW 2007 (Photo: Wikipedia)

Music agency wound down after discord over funding

A MUSIC organisation which helped Franz Ferdinand and Snow Patrol find fame has been wound down amid uncertainty over its financial future.

One official from NewMusic in Scotland (Nemis) has criticised the government and the Scottish Arts Council (SAC) for failing to give contemporary music the level of support of other art forms.

However, the SAC said Nemis had failed to provide audited accounts and a business plan, and pointed out that a number of its board members had resigned recently. It has already had GBP 100,000 of public money.

Nemis, which has an office in Jamaica Street, Glasgow, offers advice to musicians and bands on a one-to-one basis and through organised seminars, as well as helping with marketing and promotion. It also has had a pivotal role in the annual Musicworks convention in Glasgow.

Two years ago, it produced a promotional CD of Scottishbased bands which went to some of Europe's most influential industry executives at the MTVEurope Music Awards in Edinburgh, including offerings from the-then little known bands Franz Ferdinand and Snow Patrol.

But now the four-year-old development agency has said it has run out of money and it will effectively have to halt operations. Only its website, offering contacts and diary dates, will remain.

The agency has had arts council grants worth GBP 70,000, and GBP 30,000 in start-up help from Scottish Enterprise.

Alec Downie, new music development officer forNemis, said the body could not continue its work and was scathing of "elitism" in arts funding.

"In my view, the arts council is nepotistic and bureaucratic and, most of all, is out of touch with what is happening now. I would argue that the likes of The Delgados, Chemikal Underground, and Belle and Sebastian are culturally significant, but they (the arts council)would not.

"That shows the mentality of the people that control the arts here."

Scott Twynholm, of the Glasgow electro-pop band Hoboken said help from Nemis had proved vital. The band released an album last year and will release a single next month.

"Through Nemis, we appeared on two CDs which were distributed at the majormusic conferences throughout the world, " Mr Twynholm said.

"There is no way we would be in the position of recording our second album, or our new single, were it not for the help and advice Nemis has provided."

Tony McGill, manager of The Fratellis, who recently signed to Island records, said: "I have got the MD of Island to send a strongly worded e-mail to the SAC because the work Nemis does is crucial.

"When you are starting out as a band, you don't knowwhat to do, you don't have the contacts or the knowhow, and Nemis supplies all that. I am shocked this is happening."

An SAC spokeswoman said there was no doubt of "absolute commitment" by Nemis to its work, but the council was "a steward of public funds and needs to be confident that public funding is being spent to best effect in an organisation that can clearly articulate where it is going".

She said it was not accurate to say that Nemis's funds had been cut, as it was not given revenue grants, but one-off assistance. Neither, she said, had it officially applied for new funds of any kind, nor did it raise any of its own income.

The SAC statement added:

"Essentially . . . it is an issue of confidence: information requested has not been supplied - fundamental information such as audited accounts and a clear business plan.

"We are primarily concerned with the governance and structure of Nemis. It is unclear whether Nemis is a membership organisation solely or is a limited company purporting to represent the contemporary music sector in Scotland."

SUCCESS STORIES

NEMIS promotional CD given out at MTV Europe Awards in November 2003 included:

The Darts of Pleasure - Franz Ferdinand

Spitting Games - Snow Patrol

I Love You Cause I Have To - Dogs Die in Hot Cars

Sons & Daughters - Johnny Cash

With Aplomb -Biffy Clyro

Maybe It's Time -The Grim Northern Social

Black Path - Aereogramme

Destroy Rock & Roll - Mylo

The Herald 26 October 2005

Music Week 2 September 2006

World Radio History 26 April 2008

World Radio History 7 June 2008

Remember… when you are starting out as a band, you don't know what to do, you don't have the contacts or the knowhow, and Nemis supplies all that. I am shocked this is happening. — Tony McGill

MD - music director

Later edit: “Waited for today’s Happy Birthday” in the first paragraph should say “yesterday’s.” The birthday is 12 October. I got busy, posted late, and forgot to update. Oops… (This bit won’t show up on reblogs posted before 19 October 2024.)

[ledenews]

Cantrell Running for House District 3 Seat to Represent All Residents

His top three reasons for running are quite simple. First, Dave Cantrell wants to serve all of the people who reside in the state’s Third House District in northern Ohio County and most of Brooke County. Second, he wants to fight for the working people in the district, the northern panhandle, and in the Mountain State because organized labor helps to retain our high school graduates who would prefer staying home to work with their hands while making a good, honest living. Third? “Because I’m someone who will go to Charleston and listen to everyone no matter what party they belong to or where they’re from in the state,” the IBEW Local #141 president/electrician said. “I believe that has to happen more often so we can get more done for the residents in this area of the state.” Cantrell, seen here with Local #141 Business Manager Doug Giffin, is the president of the IBEW Local #141 and he holds the same position with the Building Trades. He plans to go to Charleston and fight for the working families in the district and in the state. Cantrell was raised in Greenup, Ky., a small tobacco farming town in the northeastern corner of the state where The Judds, Billy Ray Cyrus, and game show host Chuck Woolery once were children. That’s where he met his bride, Becky, too, when they were both employed at a Damon’s Restaurant, and the couple have been married for 25 years and have two grown sons despite, well, their very messy first meeting. “So, when I was 18 years old, I worked there as a cook at Damon’s and Becky was a waitress there at the time. Well, me and a buddy went there to eat one day, and she was our waitress. At the end, I accidentally left without leaving her a tip,” he shyly admitted. “I ran back in, but I was too late. The table had already been cleared. “A couple of months later, another friend who worked there introduced us in an effort to set us up on a date,” recalled Cantrell, a resident of Clearview for the past 18 years. “And yes, she brought it up, and I immediately apologized. I was really hoping she didn’t realize it was me, but, oh no, she knew it was, and she let me know it.” And? “Thankfully, she forgave me, and eventually we got married, moved to the northern panhandle because of she had family in the area, and we raised our two sons (Ethan and Owen) into fine, young men,” he said. “That’s why I like to say I have roots in Kentucky, but I have flourished in West Virginia.” Cantrell has knocked on a lot of doors, and he's attended a number of events in District 3 during his campaign. Stepping Out and Standing Up The Republican Party in West Virginia has possessed majorities in both the Senate and in the House of Delegates since 2014, and that advantage the past few years has increased to give the GOP a mega-majority in both chambers. Mega? During the 2024 60-day legislative session, there were 31 GOP members in the 34-seat Senate, and only 11 Democrats served in the 100-member House. So, yes, Mega, for sure. Cantrell is well aware he won’t flip those figures if he proves victorious on November 5th, but he believes it will make a positive difference for the residents in District 3. “I was approached by Shawn Fluharty back in December and he asked me then if I would be interested in running for the District 3 seat in the House, and I told him then I would consider it. And I did think about it. A lot,” he explained. “I knew someone needed to step up and run for the right reasons, so that’s why I decided to run. I want to work to bring state funds and grants to the district so we can do what’s necessary for economic development. “I have to admit it, though, it was really weird to see my name on the ballot when I ran in the primary. Really weird,” Cantrell said with a laugh. “I didn’t see this coming a year ago, but I know now I’m the right person for the position.” Ever since he placed his first campaign yard sign for the May primary, Cantrell has been meeting his neighbors and learning their values. A number of supporters and family members have assisted Cantrell during his campaign. “There are so many great communities in the district, including where I Iive in Clearview, and Brooke County is full are terrific neighborhoods,” he insisted. “One of our sons works at the Kroger in Wellsburg and I’ve gotten to know a lot of folks there and in Follansbee. Everyone has been very welcoming. “District 3 is full of people who work hard to make a living, and they need someone who’s going to work for them,” he said. “There was a time in my working career when I wasn’t involved with anything but just working the job because we were busy being parents. But then I decided to get involved with our (IBEW) Local (#141) and now I’m also the president of the Ohio Valley Trades Councill and working hard for working people." It's an uphill battle and he knows it, but Cantrell has been encouraged by several of his experiences while on the campaign trail. He’s knocked on a lot of doors and he’s enjoyed conversations with Democrats, independents, and Republicans – one of which even placed one of his lawn signs right next to a “Trump for President” poster in his yard. “That was pretty cool, I must say,” the Democrat revealed. “That lets me know my message about wanting to work with everyone is getting heard.” Most of all, Cantrell has learned about the Third District and the people who live, work, and own businesses within its borders, and the first-time candidate realized a few things about himself, too. “It’s been a long, grueling process, but it’s been worth it, and I’ll feel that way no matter what happens on November 5th. It’s been a clean race, and we’ve put our thoughts and beliefs out there,” he said. “This process has given me a new respect for everyone who has run for office before because it really is a marathon. You don’t think it’s that long of a period of time, but when you get involved, it’s about every minute of every day. “You find out, one way or another, how important it is to you, and you find out if it’s worth it. And it definitely is for me,” Cantrell added. “You find out how important it is to the people you talk to, too, and that teaches you a lot. The Third District really is a tight-knit community with hard workers, families, teachers, coal miners, business owners, and the people who make this valley their home, and they want to see things get better than get worse. I’m right there with them.” Read the full article

[pashterlengkap]

Marjorie Taylor Greene says “American taxpeople” want cuts to USAID for helping fight HIV abroad

Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) introduced an amendment to cut USAID’s (United States Agency for International Development) budget by $1.6 billion, calling the spending “wasteful.” To support her claim, she read statistics about USAID’s success in fighting the global HIV/AIDS epidemic. USAID is the federal agency that administers foreign aid and developmental assistance worldwide, and this isn’t the first time it has come under attack from conservatives in the House. But instead of saying why she believes USAID is spending its budget badly, Greene took another tactic in her floor speech: she listed programs USAID has implemented to fight HIV/AIDS. Related USAID releases its first-ever “LGBTQI+-inclusive” plan for foreign aid The policy is a blueprint for USAID to champion LGBTQ+ and intersex rights around the world. “Among the wasteful things USAID has funded,” Greene said, “are programs like $385 million ‘Dreams Initiative: Determined, Resilient, Empowered, AIDS-free, mentored and safe, a program under PEPFAR which aims to reduce rates of HIV among adolescent girls around the world.” Insights for the LGBTQ+ community Subscribe to our briefing for insights into how politics impacts the LGBTQ+ community and more. Subscribe to our Newsletter today “We certainly care about girls around the world,” Greene said sarcastically, “but we really care about our American taxpayers helping Americans at home.” She then pointed out that sex workers have gotten HIV medication from the program. “Again, the American people are over $34.5 trillion in debt,” she said. Greene pointed out some USAID programs help “women, men, girls, boys, and those of other – other – gender identities – by the way, there aren’t any, there’s only two” get HIV treatment and prevention services. She then continued to read statistics about how USAID helps fight global HIV, including how one program resulted in increased testing for HIV and increased medical care for people who test positive. “Meanwhile, the fentanyl drug crisis continues to rage across America!” she said as a rejoinder to the successes of USAID. “But we continue to fund USAID with billions of dollars to address AIDS and other diseases all over the world. We should be caring about Americans. And we should be funding the treatment for Americans here at home from a weapon of mass destruction that is murdering Americans every single day.” “The American taxpeople [sic] are funding this, and the American taxpeople want their problems solved.” She then accused USAID of being “Democrat” because many of its employees support Democratic candidates. I introduced an amendment to cut $1.6 billion from wasteful USAID spending. USAID sends American tax dollars all over the world to fund leftist priorities while America’s borders are wide open and people are dying because of it. The House should vote for my amendment and join… pic.twitter.com/2GHbrQC4Gs— Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (@RepMTG) June 27, 2024 Last year, Rep. Matt Gaetz (R-FL) introduced a bill to abolish USAID, arguing that the group has a “perverse ideology” because it helped LGBTQ+ people and women. The bill’s text said that USAID gave $1 million of its $27 billion annual budget – or less than 0.004% of its yearly funds – to the United Nations for “LGBTI human rights advocacy in Asia.” The bill cited a smaller $370,000 grant for LGBTQ+ human rights in Armenia, a $1.1 million grant to the Armenian LGBTQ+ organization Pink Human Rights Defender, and an approximately $300,000 grant for the U.S. State Department’s LGBTI advisor Ryan Kaminski. “American taxpayer dollars are being wasted to fund radical leftist propaganda in foreign countries,” Gaetz said at the time. “USAID does not serve a meaningful purpose. It is used as a slush fund for international wokeism. Therefore, serious lawmakers in Congress should support its complete abolition.” Greene was a cosponsor of that bill. http://dlvr.it/T8rY9H

[afr0-thunder]

[ADDED TITLE: Poor Chronicles Pt. 1]

Came to the realization I am poor. This was obvious, but I am surprisingly, actually poorer than I thought. Not exactly “poverty”, I can manage. I also have the option to navigate through this situation a little better than most in this situation. Most of this is due to how I have chosen to carry myself in the situations concerning this, so I don’t view it as any better than anybody else in this situation, although I don’t take it for granted due to the hard work necessary to be in this EXACT position. To which I say, I am in better standings than all in this situation, but only with more hard work, which to measure up, others would not have to work as hard.

I see no issue with living this way. I actually was joyful to realize that this is where I stand. This is exactly where I wanted to be. Having a $0.00 account balance is perfect, couldn’t be greater. [not sarcasm]

What made me realize this?

[Detour: I can navigate through this situation instantly, but I am continuously becoming more stern about expenses and absolutely REFUSE to turn things I set aside for other purposes into a “rainy day fund”…because what the fuck is that? You either have it or you don’t. Stick to the rules you set for yourself.]

Here I sit with a large box of Honey Combs, 1/3 gallon of 2% milk and nothing else. Will not put these two items to use (until tomorrow) due to these stern rules. For reasons I don’t care to explain. I could break my own rules and remove this situation as I type, but that would require use of my “monthly expenses” fund, which I believe shall remain untouched until the monthly use period. So today is essentially a “fasting”/diet day which mostly only consists of liquid consumption. I refuse to purchase a subscription or use a streaming platform for entertainment. Social media until further notice. I have cable that runs on the same channel 24/7. Great entertainment, but only reserved for meals. That means NO sports (BOOO!). I’ve considered attending a local high school’s sporting events due to my rules on transportation and personal boundary limits. Feels odd, but I feel my support is needed (TBD, given I have time). By tomorrow, my main issue will cease to exist due to how I’ve chosen to carry out these things going forward (trial and error). I also know where I am headed as far as my future goes so things like this are meniscule in the grand scheme of things. I am unsure of how long this journey of balance and hardship will be extended. My guess is anywhere between 1-4 years, but I am prepared to take on the difficulties which I may through it all, see as simple. Reflection always provides a different perspective, unfortunately.

In short, money is just an object. You can accomplish anything with proper planning. Poor and poverty are NOT the same thing. Fasting/dieting is fairly easy (given it is a necessity or of great importance to you). Everything you once “needed” to “stay sane” is not necessarily a necessity and you can find many substitutions for you current situation. If you are unique, no portion of your life and what you use for it/to describe it should be cliché… END!

[college-girl199328]

Joy Thompson, who was reuniting her family and having her daughters join her in Canada, came here in 2004 as a domestic worker to help support her children and put them through school back in the Philippines.

"If I did not go out of my country, there's nothing for them, nothing for us," she said. She has seen her children occasionally over the years. Her son, also a nurse, works in Yellowknife.

When Thompson's boss introduced her to the owners of a Toronto-based employment agency in late 2018, Thompson felt the dream of bringing her two daughters to Canada was finally about to come true. Her daughters, Aubrey and April Nuval, were working as nurses in the United Arab Emirates. Thompson jumped at the opportunity when Rose and Bert Smith, co-owners of Apex Connection Corp., told her they could help get them Canadian visas.

But almost five years later, her daughters remain in the U.A.E. after their arrangement with the agency evolved into a disputed family found themselves with nowhere to turn for recourse. In the fall, the federal government announced a new immigration plan that would see Canada welcome half a million immigrants per year by 2025. Those offering prospective newcomers help in obtaining a Canadian work permit.

Experts told CBC News it's important to only give money to a licensed immigration professional authorized to advise.

Thompson said a week after meeting the Smiths at the hotel where she worked in Niagara Falls, Ont., Rose Smith told her that a close friend in Newfoundland needed workers at the seniors home she operated. Simms, the owner of Pleasantview Manor in Lewisporte, N.L., needed personal care attendants, Smith told Thompson. The Nuval sisters were willing to take $15-an-hour positions, well below their nursing qualifications getting permanent residency in Canada.

Thompson signed two service agreements with Smith's agency, Apex Connection Corp., for $24,000, or $12,000 each for Aubrey and April and their partners. The nurses had raised most of the money and, with help from family, had gathered the funds for the agreements, including processing their federal immigration applications and provincial applications and finding an employer willing to sponsor their permanent residency application.

However, by early 2021, more than two years after the agreements were signed, the job offers were gone, and the relationship that Thompson once described as "God's sending" spiraled into an acrimonious dispute between the Smiths and the Nuvals over who was to blame for the process falling apart.

CBC News has been granted access to the Nuvals' immigration files in addition to email correspondence with them, their mother, and Smith over more than two years, who said Rose Smith never allowed them access to their immigration applications. At one point in September 2019, when Thompson asked for an update, Smith told her to stop sending so many emails.

"I asked a friend to sponsor your daughters, and she agreed to help me. But at this time, I think I would prefer to refund you and close their applications," wrote Smith. Nuvals chose to stick with Smith. Aubrey Nuval's visa was approved first, but when she asked to speak to the employer, Aubrey claimed, "Rose didn't allow us to contact her."

Smith told CBC News in a written statement she did not prevent the Nuvals from speaking with the prospective employer, and the allegation they were not given a chance to see what was going on in their applications is untrue. 2020, Smith told Aubrey Nuval that the employer had put hiring her on hold because of the impact that potential exposure to COVID-19 might have on seniors at her retirement home. 

This did not make sense to Thompson, and her daughters, who had both been vaccinated in the U.A.E., who knew that Canadian foreign workers could enter the country if quarantined for 14 days. They reached an officer with Newfoundland and Labrador Immigration, which administered the Atlantic Immigration Pilot Program under which the Nuvals applied.

"We find the information your agent is giving you to be concerning," the immigration officer wrote. He said the disconnect between the Nuvals and their employer was of great concern to their office, adding that they have access to their work permit and permanent residency applications.

The officer also warned them about immigration fraud and suggested they check if their agent was registered. Immigration put the Nuvals' applications on hold to investigate and asked them to send a copy of their signed agreement with their agent in Canada.

Under Canada's Immigrant and Refugee Protection Act (IRPA), the only people who can charge a fee for providing immigration advice are lawyers and paralegals who are members in good standing of a Canadian provincial or territorial law society, notaries who are members in good with the Chamber of Notaries of Quebec, and citizenship or immigration consultants who are members in good standing of the College of Immigration and Citizenship Consultants. It turned out that Rose Smith was none of those and was not authorized to provide immigration services for a fee.

"I know I should have researched first," said Aubrey Nuval. "But I didn't expect that there was such a thing in Canada." Nuvals decided to retain an immigration paralegal to become their new authorized representative. Soon after, Simms withdrew her job offers.

"The employer is not familiar with that individual," Smith wrote in an email to Thompson. "She is my friend, and I only sponsored and hired the girls because of our relationship."

There's no indication Simms did anything wrong. CBC News reached out to Simms for a response. She said she had no comment but wished the best for the Nuvals' dreams, which have been shattered," said Thompson. "My hope of being with them disappeared."

When Thompson asked Apex Connection Corp. for their money back, Smith said she did the work they paid her, adding, "Aubrey already obtained her visa, and April is very close to receiving hers." Smith told CBC News that they offered to meet and discuss a compromise with the Nuvals, but they declined.

The Smiths also said neither of them is an immigration consultant, nor have they ever held themselves out to be asked by CBC News why she was offering immigration services without a license. Rose Smith said Apex retained a lawyer "throughout the endorsement process and to represent the Nuvals' work permit and permanent resident applications." 

Thompson said they never heard from Apex's lawyer, never knew his name, and the only person who ever gave them immigration advice was Rose Smith.

Aubrey Nuval filed a complaint with the Law Society of Ontario, which concluded there was insufficient evidence to support the allegation that Apex's lawyer engaged in professional misconduct issues that you have raised relate more closely to the service provided by the certified immigration consultant," the resolution counsel wrote to Aubrey in an email.

So the family reached out to the federal regulatory authority College of Immigration Consultants is not a licensed member means the CICC cannot discipline her even if it found wrongdoing.

The issue of unregulated consultants charging foreign workers for immigration services is not a new phenomenon in Canada CEO of the CICC is trying to bring under control practitioners who have been active in every aspect of Canadian immigration," said Murray.

The CICC by federal legislation in November 2021 to replace the Immigration Consultants of Canada Regulatory Council (ICRC). In addition to licensing and regulating consultants, CICC has a "power to bring injunctions against unlicensed practitioners," said Murray, adding that it has asked the federal government to amend the legislation to give it more power to curb this practice.

Phil Mooney, a regulated Canadian immigration consultant who has served as an adviser to the Canada Border Services Agency and IRCC, and has examined the Nuvals' immigration case, says there are regulated professions in this country "to protect the public said had Thompson signed service agreements with a licensed immigration consultant or a lawyer, their respective regulatory bodies have mechanisms in place that help protect clients.

"The contract has to be between ourselves and the end user that stipulates how much it costs and what services are and how they can have access to the regulatory body in case there's a problem," said Mooney lawyers and consultants, if you take money from a client, that money should go into your trust account."

According to the Law Society of Ontario, licensed lawyers maintain a separate client trust ledger account for each client to ensure that monies relating to one client are not misused to the benefit of another News has obtained bank receipts that show at least some of the funds Thompson paid went into Rose Smith's personal bank account.

A CBC News report confirms that this is not the first time Rose Smith has been accused of improperly handling clients' immigration files and money. Under her previous married name, Rose-Laure Noel, Smith practiced as an immigration lawyer at Noel & Associates in Toronto in 2016.

In 2014, the Law Society of Upper Canada — now the Law Society of Ontario — found Noel guilty of professional misconduct for failing to cooperate fully with its investigation into complaints from five clients. The experiment involved the fees she charged and how she handled those fees. Noel was also found guilty of practicing law while under suspension.

Noel's license to practice law was revoked in Ontario and Quebec, where she had practiced under her maiden name, Rose Legagneur.

The first complaint came, in 2008, from a client known in court files as E.T., involving work Noel had done for him on immigration and family law issues. An investigation was opened that looked into, among other concerns, issues related to Noel's billing of services. This included whether the retainers she received from E.T. were deposited into a trust account.

A Law Society hearing panel found Noel guilty of professional misconduct for failing to cooperate with its forensic auditor during its investigation. The chair wrote in her summary that Noel "did not take seriously the need to be candid and helpful to society."

In 2011, the law society received letters from three more clients — A.D., M.D., and D.S. — all complaining about the services of Noel in their immigration cases. The community repeatedly sent letters to Noel requesting responses to the allegations and the complete original files of the complainants, plus 16 additional clients.

Noel did not respond to most of the letters and sent the requested information and documents to the society's investigation department.

In 2012, after an investigation, Noel's privileges were suspended with an undertaking not to practice law in Ontario after she failed to pay annual dues. A complaint was made to the society that while under that suspension, Noel intervened in a case involving a minor league football club east of Toronto and the rest of one of its coaches — her fiancé at the time, Apex co-director Bert Smith.

Noel and Bert Smith — full name Englhieberth Sharon Smith — testified before a society hearing committee that Noel had voluntarily. But evidence showed she had sent a letter to the Central Ontario Minor Football League. In it, she said she was the legal adviser to the club. On behalf of her client, she forwarded a letter written on the letterhead of Noel & Associates Barristers & Solicitors. In a follow-up email sent by Noel to the league, she wrote: "We wish to put you on notice that the decision to suspend Mr. Smith was not properly served."

Noel eventually paid her dues, but in April 2013, the hearing panel ordered Noel's license to practice be suspended for a further 12 months for professional misconduct. This is because she failed to deposit the trust funds of 16 clients before her services that year. In revoking her license, the panel concluded that there were still complaints from members of the public for which their investigation could not be completed because of Noel's non-co-operation with their requests to produce documents.

In 2019, the Ontario Superior Court of Justice ordered defendants Rose Laure Noel and an associate to repay $40,000 to a Markham, Ont., woman. This is because they failed to provide immigration services in 2013. Keshuai Chai was looking for help to sponsor her brother and his wife to immigrate to Canada from China when she was introduced to Noel.

After signing a service agreement that promised to secure provincial nominee applications and permanent residence applications, Keshuai Chai paid a deposit of $20,000 a few months later, Chai was told a job offer for her brother and his wife. Therefore, her brother made the balance payment of another $20,000 as per the agreement.

Afterward, when Chai inquired about the status of their file, she was advised that such matters took months and years to resolve, and when Chai asked for a status update, her call was not returned, and shortly after, Noel blocked her phone number.

Noel refused to respond, communicate or send a copy of Smith's to the newly hired lawyer they retained. This lawyer was to help them write a written response to CBC News. The Smiths said they were dated and unrelated matters that "distract from the fact that there has been no finding of misconduct about the Nuval sisters."

Thompson said she learned a bitter lesson by not ensuring that Smith was a registered immigration consultant and trusted my employer that much without me looking or trying to search for if she was licensed or not," said Thompson.

Thompson is anyone trying to help a family member immigrate to Canada. "I encourage you to search first many times before you trust them," she said. Make sure … to see if they are real … if it's a legal immigration consultant."

[tennessoui]

Idk if you are still doing this. But 18 and 40?

i think you're my last one !!!

(all you need to know for this is that on monday i went to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and today i went to the Smithsonian museum of natural history)

18. Someone’s birthday + 40. “It’s just hard for me to forgive you after everything that’s happened.”

"You said you'd be polite," Padmé murmurs just loud enough for Anakin to hear. "Civil. I think your actual words were, 'Yeah of course, Padmé, I won't even look in his direction!'"

"This me being polite," her friend mumbles from next to her, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the lineloium of the floor.

"You glared at him so hard the second he came in that he didn't even approach me," Padmé points out, exasperated. "I'm the birthday girl! He came to see me!"

"You see each other all the time," Anakin defends gruffly, crossing his arms. "You work in the same building. Look even your exhibits are next to each other."

He gestures with a hand to the doors on the other side of the lobby. One reads Hall of Fossils--Deep Time. The other, straight ahead, reads Ocean Hall.

"First of all, you do know we don't actually work in those exhibits, right?" Padmé checks. "And second of all, with the new funding the Deep Ocean Exploration team has just gotten--"

Anakin cuts her off with an angry huff of derision. She hides her smile behind her glass of champagne as she takes a sip.

"Don't even get me started on that, Padmé. I don't understand at all how they chose deep ocean exploration over my team's proposal! I don't think I'll ever forgive him after everything that's happened now! You know we needed that funding! Our satellite designs are flawless! NASA approved, even! We could be out there now, exploring the galaxies! But Obi-Wan Kenobi says a few words about the fucking ocean and suddenly half the nation is putting on flippers and oxygen tanks?"

Padmé has to bite her lip to control her urge to burst out laughing at the angry, petulant expression on Anakin's face.

"I bet he slept with someone," Anakin mutters mutinously as Padme watches him watch Obi-Wan Kenobi move across the room, talking with party-guests and waitstaff interchangeably. The man, in an appropriately tailored and casual suit, throws his head back when he laughs at something someone says to him, and he pats her on the arm. Anakin's jaw flexes.

"I think it's quite telling that you think he's attractive enough to sleep his way into millions of dollars," she says, taking a sip of her champagne. "I can't think of a single fuck in my entire life worth that much money."

Anakin splutters and his face turns red. "That's not what I--" he gets out.

But Padmé has had enough of both of them pretending that they don't think the sun revolves around the other. As much as Anakin hasn't taken his eyes off of Obi-Wan since the man walked in, Obi-Wan has been shooting just as many surreptitious glances at Anakin when he thinks the blond-haired man is looking somewhere else.

It's been years of this. Two years exactly, actually, of Padmé in the middle of two men who are at each other's teeth professionally but can't seem to stay away from each other in their private lives. She's lost track of the amount of times the two of them have broken into deafening arguments over lunch or dinner or drinks because "We should be spending more resources on exploring space!" "Only 5% of the ocean has been explored!" "I can tell you what's down there! Fish!" "And I can tell you what's in space! Rocks!"

Padmé is, quite frankly, sick of it now. She'd like her life much more if her two friends could decide what exactly they wanted from each other. But no, they argue and hate each other when they're together, but she'll post a photo to her Instagram of her and Obi-Wan and a new intern, and Anakin will be texting her not even five minutes later, asking who that guy is and why he's holding Obi-Wan's waist in the photo. Or Anakin will publicly and loudly declare his intention to get back into the dating scene, and Padmé will spend the next two or so weeks fielding questions from Obi-Wan about if Anakin's found any space nerds to date, how those days may be going, if anyone's come back for seconds....

"You didn't let me finish," Padmé says quickly, when she catches Obi-Wan's eye and smiles at him, certain that this will get him to come over. "I was saying that with the new funding, Obi-Wan might not be working at the museum anymore."

Anakin freezes beside her. "What?" he breathes out.

"There's an open position in a research facility in Hawai'i. He's been tapped for it. I don't know really if he plans to accept yet..." she says leadingly, but it's pretty clear pretty quickly that Anakin isn't listening anymore.

"He never told me that," he says in a very small voice.

He sounds so unsure, hurt, that Padmé almost regrets what she's about to say. "Why would he?" she asks anyway. "You were just saying how you would never forgive him for winning the funding. This just be perfect for you. He leaves, you never have to see him again."

Anakin's eyebrows furrow and he looks confused. Hurt. Angry. The perfect expression for Obi-Wan's arrival in front of the pair of them.

"Padmé!" Obi-Wan smiles as he leans in and kisses her cheek. "Happy birthday! Amazing celebration, I cannot believe they allowed you to host it in the museum itself."

"Well, you only turn 35 once," she smiles at him.

Obi-Wan nods seriously with a teasing grin on his face. "Now you're old enough to run for president and everything."

She laughs. "Me? A head for politics? I'm not sure. But," she says slyly when it's very clear Anakin isn't going to say anything himself, too busy staring at the side of Obi-Wan's face with an intense, creepy sort of glare. "If anyone I know does, I think it'd be you. Ani and I were just talking about how they granted funding to your proposal the other day. Congratulations!"

"Thank you, thank you," Obi-Wan says graciously, but his smile has become fixed and his eyes dart over to Anakin.

Anakin, who decides to take this moment to figure out how to speak again. "When do you leave?" he asks in an angry, harsh tone. Padmé sighs to herself. She should have known a surprised and hurt Anakin turns to fury before he turns to acceptance, especially where Obi-Wan Kenobi is concerned.

"Pardon?" Obi-Wan asks politely, turning his body to face only Anakin. Padmé tries not to sigh again. She should be used to this, the way their eyesight narrows to only each other.

But on her birthday, really?

Anakin's jaw flexes as he gnashes his teeth together. There's nothing Ani hates more in the world than someone acting as if his question is a silly question.

That's not what Obi-Wan's doing of course, but Obi-Wan's done it enough in the past to rile Anakin up that Padmé can understand the confusion the astrophysicist is going through.

"To Hawai'i. Padmé said all your water money is gonna get you a fancy new position on the West Coast. Just wanted to know when you're going to go."

Padmé has half a mind to tell Obi-Wan that that is not, actually what she said, but Obi-Wan looks as if he wouldn't even realize she's spoken if she tried.

"Would you miss me?" the oceanologist murmurs, stepping closer to Anakin. "Were I to leave, would you miss me, Anakin?"

Anakin looks like a deer in the headlights for a second, before his face shuts down. "I wanna write it on my calendar, celebrate the day."

Obi-Wan's face flashes with something that leaves his eyes colder than before, and he steps back. Away. Padmé winces and tries to take a sip from her champagne glass before realizing it's empty.

"Well, that certainly makes things easier," he tells Anakin shortly before turning his full attention back to Padmé. "I meant to come over and say goodbye. It's a bit of walk home, and I have an early day tomorrow."

"But you just got here," Anakin sounds confused, as if he'd expected to keep Obi-Wan's attention for much longer.

Obi-Wan summarily ignores him and leans into kiss Padmé's cheek again. "Happy birthday again, Padmé," he tells her gripping her hand in both of his for a second before dropping it and turning back into the crowd.

"What was that?" Anakin says gruffly, crossing his arms. "Why'd he kiss you? He's leaving so early! And ignoring me! What?"

Padmé shakes her head and puts her hand on his arm. It looks like she's going to have to spell a few things out to her silly astrophysicist. "That was you fucking up," she says slowly.

Anakin scoffs. "What? No. We say that shit all the time to each other."

"Anakin, listen to me," she waits until his eyes are on hers and not trying to catch Obi-Wan's receding figure. "Today at lunch, he told me he hadn't decided if he was going to take the position yet. But I think he just did."

Anakin blinks at her. Men are stupid. These men especially.

"If you want him to stay, you have to tell him."

"Tell him--I...why do I--don't be ridiculous--"

"Anakin, I've known Obi-Wan for four years. The only thing he talked about the first two was the ocean. For the last two, it's been the ocean and you."

Anakin stares at her and then stares at the people around them. Padmé knows he's trying to find Obi-Wan in the crowd. "But...he's leaving."

"But he came here wearing a coat," she points out, giving him a little push towards the unmanned coat room.

"I--right," Anakin mumbles to himself.

Feeling like the best friend in the whole world, Padmé takes his champagne flute from him and pushes him harder forward. "Go get him, Ani," she encourages, but she gets the feeling Anakin isn't even listening to her anymore as he moves across the lobby to the coat room.

She watches just long enough to see Obi-Wan emerge from the room wearing his tan coat and Anakin pushing him furiously back inside. The door closes behind them, and Padmé hopes it comes with a lock.

But if it doesn't, that's their problem. She's done enough for one night.

[axvoter]

Blatantly Partisan Party Review XIII (federal 2022): FUSION: Science, Pirate, Secular, Climate Emergency

Running where: All states except TAS

Prior reviews of the:

Climate Emergency Action Alliance: Vote Planet (formerly Save the Planet): federal 2013, VIC 2014, VIC 2018

Future/Science Party: federal 2013 (Future Party), federal 2016 (Science Party), NSW 2019 (James Jansson “Team for NSW”), federal 2019 (Science Party)

Pirate Party: federal 2013, federal 2016, federal 2019

Secular Party: federal 2013, federal 2016, federal 2019

What’s going on here, you wonder? When the party membership threshold was increased from 500 to 1,500 last year, one thing I hoped would happen is that parties with similar missions would recognise it’s better to work together. It turns out a bunch of loosely left-of-centre parties realised this as well!

This party is a merger of five parties: the four named above, who I reviewed to varying degrees of positivity, and the Climate Change Justice Party, which had only been registered in the ACT. I should say that the unregistered Save the Planet had, after the 2019 election, merged with One Planet (who were also unregistered but had a candidate running for ICAN in 2019) under the name Save Our One Planet Alliance. They then changed their name to Climate Emergency Action Alliance: Vote Planet, and technically Fusion is a continuation of Vote Planet, as it was their active registration that had the name changed.

Anyway, Fusion promises to be “something more powerful than the sum of our parts”. What might that be? “A party determined to secure a safe climate and environment, a humanist society, and free culture, held together by science.” Look, I can get into that. So, what sorts of policies do they offer? I’m gonna skate past some of the more cringe rhetoric and take their platform seriously.

It's pretty much a grab-bag of the key issues of the constituent parties, and fortunately these are mostly complementary. Reflecting the explicit climate focus of two of the five fused parties, and the fact most other constituents also had strong climate policies, there are not one but two climate policies: one about the Climate Emergency and another for Ecological Restoration. They demand implementation of a ten-year plan to get not simply to net zero, but to negative emissions. In the view of Fusion, there is no longer a gradual path to net zero, but a need for drastic action—one policy is for Australia to produce 800% of its energy needs with renewables so that it can become a major exporter of clean energy and energy-intensive products. Unfortunately, the transport policy is too narrowly focused on electric cars rather than a more holistic policy for modal shift to accessible and efficient active and public transport. Rail, after all, has the OG electric vehicles.

Other policies reflect the interests of other parties within Fusion. You won’t be surprised to see policies in favour of a federal ICAC, whistleblower protections, or euthanasia. You can tell the Science Party (and others, but Science is most notable here) contained people who work in academic research because Fusion has a policy to fix Australia’s hopeless and time-wasting research grants system. The civil and digital liberties policy reprises the Pirate Party’s demands for net neutrality and reforming copyright law so that it encourages creativity rather than litigious activity by corporations. There is support for secular humanism, which is a nod to the Secular Party—their policy to replace the national school chaplain programme with trained counsellors has carried over.

I have my reservations. The free speech policy seems to come from Secular Party concerns with blasphemy laws but is simplistic and does not address racial vilification. The foreign affairs policy is so vague that it could mean whatever you want it to mean. And the b_auspol review captures something I missed on my first read, and then just about got whiplash when I did see it: to fund a Universal Basic Income, they propose “a flat tax rate? What? A FLAT TAX RATE? … just abandon[ing] any sign of a progressive tax system? Whatever your feelings about UBI vs a better Centrelink rate, the flat tax policy is completely out of step with assisting people’s finances and off in libertarian dream land.”

But all in all I think this is a party worth consideration for those on the left. It’s not as left-wing as some, it emphasises pragmatic reaction rather than ideological ambition, and some of the policies are clearly a little underdone in trying to reconcile five platforms, but most of their positions contain worthwhile goals.

My recommendation: Give Fusion a decent to good preference

Website: https://www.fusionparty.org.au/

[greaterawarness]

Brothers Ch. 6 "Retired Commander and Captain"

(A slow morning for Cody and Rex.)

Cody was up by 0600 like most mornings. When he was in the army, he would consider 0600 sleeping in. He supposes he’s gone a little soft since being out. His morning routine was nothing glamorous. He normally showers but today he’s skipped that step, shaves, spends a small amount of time making sure his hair is in order, then dresses in sensible clothing. Today he plans on going for a run, so he wears breathable workout clothes.

“What are you doing? Come back to bed…” A sleepy voice calls. Cody walks out of the bathroom and leans against the doorway with a smile. Obi Wan is turned on his side with their red sheets resting at his waist. His usual neat and tidy hair now sticks in every direction.

“Can’t. Promised Rex I’d kidnap him for a run.” He walks over to sit on the bed. Obi Wan reaches out to gently touch Cody’s wrist. Cody leans forward planting a gentle kiss on Obi Wan’s forehead. “Go back to sleep. I should be back before you finish getting ready.”

Obi Wan grabs his shirt when he starts to pull away. He presses his lips to Cody’s before falling back on his pillow and rolling to his side of the bed.

“Very well. Run an extra mile for me.” He yawns while pulling the sheets up to his shoulders.

“Always do.” Cody pushes himself off the bed. Before leaving their room, he walks to his closet out of habit. He checks on his Mandalorian armor making sure it was still in tip top shape as if it would change from his last inspection before bed. With there being no changes, he leaves their room.

Cody and Obi Wan live in a luxurious spacious apartment. Only riveled by Padme’s and Skywalker’s. He walks across their pristine white marble floor to their white clean kitchen. Everything is sleek and modern just how they liked it. After leaving the Jedi Order they both developed a certain taste for things. Ahsoka had called it being boujee. Whatever the hell that means. He starts the caf so it will be ready when Obi Wan wakes and for when he gets back from his run. He leaves their apartment and makes his way down to the lobby.

“Morning Wooley.” Cody says as he passes his brother behind the main desk. After Obi Wan purchased this building, he gave a few jobs to the 212th. They’re simple jobs but his men seem to enjoy it. It doesn’t hurt that they all congregate in the speakeasy in the back. Easy to make 212th meetings if you work in the building.

“Early as ever Sir. Want me to pull your speeder around?” He asks.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just call a cab.” Cody says. When he’s on the street he hails the cab while taking in the sun’s rays. Cody always loved Coruscant in the morning. Wasn’t as busy as during the day or rowdy like at night. Though, things definitely got more interesting when the sun went down. Cody sits in the back of the cab admiring the buildings as they passed. Rex didn’t live to far and he could have walked it but knowing Rex he only has a finite time to reach him before the man collapses back into deep sleep. When the cab parks in front of Rex’s building, Cody slips out and pays the man. Before walking inside, he can’t help but glance at Skywalkers building only a block further down. Most people in this area are Senators or work in high-ranking positions. Not even on the handsome funds that Cody and Obi Wan pull in from the Jinn clan could they afford a place in this area.

Cody walks through the lobby and nods at the stern man behind the front desk. He meets his eyes before looking back to his screen. Cody punches in the code that grants access to the lift and rides it up to Rex’s floor. When he approaches Rex’s front door, he can already hear the madness on the other side. Cody grins before knocking. After a few moments the door opens when a blue twi’lek girl appears.

“Good morning Luna. I’ve come to kidnap your father.” Cody says. The teenager turns her face inside.

“Dad! Uncle Cody’s here!” She yells. She steps aside so Cody can walk in. While Obi Wan and Cody preferred a modern home that mostly consists of white marble and sleek finishes, Rex liked a more rustic feel. While the wall facing outward to the city is made of almost entirely of glass the other walls are exposed brick with exposed wood beams and columns. His floors, when not covered in scattered toys or clothes, are a light hardwood. It definitely felt more homy then Cody’s.

“You off to school?” Cody asks when the door shuts behind him.

“Yeah, just waiting on the gremlin to get ready.” She says, crossing her arms.

“That’s not a nice thing to call your brother.” Cody eyes her.

“Sorry,” She nods. “I meant to say bantha.”

Cody has to hold back a laugh. Luna slides across the floor in her long school socks to retrieve her datapad. Cody almost jumps when a woman rushes down the stairs holding a human toddler in her arms. Her blonde curly hair bounces with every jerk of her head. Cody crosses his arms with a smile waiting Morrigan to notice him. Her frantic busy eyes scan the kitchen island that is cluttered in papers, cups, and toys.

“My keys… where are my keys?” She asks with her one free hand held out frustratedly. Cody takes this time to walk forward. She stares at him slightly taken off guard before calming back down.

“I believe,” Cody starts while reaching for the thing in the toddler’s hands. “I’ve found them.”

Morrigan closes her eyes relieved.

“Thank you, Cody.” She says placing a hand on his shoulder. “You must be here for Rex.”

“Yes, I had planned on kidnapping him.” Cody explains. He leans against the messy kitchen island. She gives a sarcastic eyeroll.

“Good luck. I’m afraid my nine year old has beaten you to it.” She walks over to her bag to rummage through it. As if speaking his name summoned him, Rex walks down the stairs with his son slung over his shoulders.

“I don’t want to go!” Bjorn yells but shows no real struggle. Rex lets out long sigh.

“I know,” He says while setting the boy down. Bjorn’s a spitting image of his father. Well, Cody guessed all clones really, but he was Rex’s boy through and through. “But you have to. Otherwise, mum and I are going to go to prison!”

The boy rolls his eyes. He tries to walk away but is stopped by Rex’s hand. Rex pulls out a pair of glasses and puts them on Bjorn’s face.

“But…”

“No buts. You’re wearing them.” Rex waves a finger at the boy with a stern eye. Bjorn says nothing while grabbing his school bag and walks over to his eldest sister.

“Be safe! Don’t take your eyes off each other!” Morrigan calls when the two eldest children walk towards the front door.

“We know!” They yell back before closing the door behind them. With two out of the three kids gone the adults took this moment to breathe. Rex looks to Cody for the first time.

“Sorry that you had to walk in on our hectic mornings.” Rex says looking more tired than he did when they left to go home last night.

“Don’t worry about it. Love any chance I get to see my favorite nieces and nephew.” Cody says. Morrigan shifts her daughter while slinging her bag over her other shoulder.

“Well, I’m off to work. I’m running late as it is. Cody, try not to kill my husband. I do enjoy his company.” She says walking past him. She walks for the door making Rex chuckle.

“Love?” Rex calls.

“Yes?” She turns back around.

“I’m not sure how your meeting is going to go while holding Serin.” Rex crosses his arms. Morrigan pauses realizing her daughter is still in her arms. She shuffles over and hands her to Rex before giving him a quick kiss and rushing for the door. Rex calls out “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Morrigan responds by letting out a loud and sarcastic laugh while running out the door. Rex shakes his head while smiling at Serin who is content just sitting in Rex’s arms.

“If its just you and Serin we can go for a run another day?” Cody offers. Rex lets out a tired sigh.

“Nah, we’ll bring her along.”

After getting little Serin situated in a stroller Cody and Rex do a short stretch in front of Rex’s building. After they feel warmed up, they start jogging. When Cody goes for a run with Obi Wan they usually start out much faster and go for longer but ever since becoming a dad Rex has lost a bit of his steam. They run a few blocks before stopping at a crosswalk. Rex leans over with his hands on his knees breathing heavily.

“You okay?” Cody raises a brow at him.

“Don’t judge me Cody… I’ve got three kids…” He breathes before straightening up and pushing the stroller as he continues to run. Everything is so different now then it was when they were in the army. Before he and Rex ran a tight ship. Nothing got past them, and they were constantly working to keep their bodies and minds in top physical condition. Now, they’ve learned to take it easy and take things as they come. Not that they’ve gone completely soft. Cody and Rex still pride themselves on their combat skills and marksmanship.

They decide to end their run early when Serin starts to get fussy. They now walk at a comfortable pace after stopping to buy the child a juice box. Cody and Rex drink one of their own.

“So,” Rex says after they toss their drained juice boxes. “What are we going to do about that batch of clones?”

That batch. Cody knew exactly what he was talking about. Cody lets out a sigh through his nose.

“I could use some guys like that. It’s hard to find younger clones so willing to run into battle.” Cody starts.

“True but running headfirst into danger isn’t always a good thing.” Rex says making Cody laugh.

“Ironic coming from you!” Cody says wincing when Rex elbows him.

“All I’m saying is that they seem a little to eager.”

“What do you expect? They’re too young to have seen any battle but to old to not remember life and training on Kamino. They trained for a Republic that already didn’t want them.” Cody snorts. They fall silent for a moment. Memories of the days after the war. When it first ended everyone was so happy. It may have only been one real battle but so many clones and Jedi had died. Everyone celebrated and the clones were seen as heroes. For a time. Then the Jedi who had fought beside so many of the clones turned away from them. Some completely abandoning squads on random planets trying to wrangle up any remaining separatists. The anger from those times still burns in Cody and Rex.

As they contemplated on the past, they can hear the shouting of protests. Cody and Rex exchange looks before continuing on. They find a large crowd surrounding a stage built of crates with a few clones standing on top.

“We fought their war and look how they treat us?” A clone yells. Cody stops to stare at him. He looks familiar. “Clones only earn a small percentage compared to any other species on Coruscant but we far outnumber any other species when it comes to homelessness! We’re denied basic rights!”

Cody is both surprised and pleased to see that the crowd is a good mix of nonclones and clones. Serin starts to get fussy again, so they start to walk on. As they walk away from the rally, they can hear them chanting “We fought your fight now give us rights!”all the way down the block.

They decide to take a rest on a park bench and let Serin stretch her legs.

“That was Slick up there, wasn’t it?” Rex asks. Cody nods. He holds a twig that Serin hands him before she waddles off.

“I just hope he keeps it peaceful.” Cody sighs. Rex lets out a snort.

“He’s not wrong though. Some clones are lucky and get decent jobs and live a normal life. Most aren’t. unless they want to live like us working as bounty hunters and mercenaries. We do okay but this life isn’t for everyone. It’s most certainly not one I want my children.”

Cody looks over at Rex who keeps his eyes on his daughter.

“Bjorn looks just like us. What happens when he’s older and he can’t get a job because his face resembles mine? Serin… well I tell myself she’ll do fine because she’s a girl and she takes after her mother thank the Force. But I do worry about them.” Rex scoops his daughter in his arms and holds her close. She doesn’t appreciate this and squirms out of his arms to continue playing.

“I hate to break this to you Rex old boy, but your son is probably going to become a bounty hunter just because he has your wife’s attitude.” Cody says making Rex laugh.

“Oh, don’t I know it too?” Rex shakes his head. His face settles into a sad smile. “Still… I want him to have a choice.”

Cody lets out a breath while leaning back.

“Then I guess we’ll have to hope Fox and Padme can pull through.” Cody looks up at the sky before staring at Rex when he lets out a pfft.

“Never thought you would be saying that did ya?” Rex snorts making Cody laugh.

“Fuckin’ Fox man… who knew?” Cody shakes his head. When they fall silent again Rex leans on his knees.

“So, what are we going to do about that batch?” Rex asks again. Cody leans his head back with his eyes closed.

“I don’t know…” He groans. “Wolffe has probably already recruited them but… then they have the Force sensitive ones and I’m sure Skywalker will throw a fit if he doesn’t get them.”

“Yeah, probably. He and Ahsoka were fighting about it the other night. But they were drinking so it quickly turned into who’s fault it was who crashed the last ship.” Rex says with his chin perched on his hand.

“… It was Anakin, wasn’t it?”

“It’s always Anakin.” Rex nods making Cody chuckle. They sit in silence again while watching Serin play.

“You don’t think that day we ran into that batch wasn’t a bit…”

“Perfect?” Rex finishes for him. “Yeah. I know.”

“I mean all three of us were recruited for the job and then the batch is there for no apparent reason, and they were carrying blasters which according to our research none of them can afford. Seems like that whole event was planned.” Cody watches Rex carefully. His face is unchanging but deliberately still. “It has her fingerprints all over it.”

“I know.” He says softly.

“That means those boys are probably in over their heads. It might be best if we cut off all ties with them. Save ourselves a headache.” Cody says aware of how stiff Rex is next to him. It’s so apparent that Serin walks over to try and mess with his face. He loosens up so not to bother her.

“I’ll deal with it, Cody.” He says sternly. He stands with his daughter in his arms. He puts her back in her stroller telling Cody it was time to go. Cody doesn’t push the subject any further. Rex has a complicated history after the war. It often comes back to haunt him. Cody walks beside his friend feeling bad for even bringing her up. They would have to come up with a plan for that batch another day. Today Cody was only focused on getting back to the apartment to catch Obi Wan before he left for the senate.

Read full story HERE at AO3

[meabd]

Tricks of the Trade

Chapter 3: Casting the Net

New Directive;

Recruit Codename Lily at all cost. Hold on Qixing Bang & Burn until further notice.

Funds available, find her Nugget. If needed Raven Operative available for backup.

Do not reply.

Childe crumpled the note up before tossing it into the roaring fire. He bristled at the mention of bringing in a Raven. Sure, he knew it was mostly to spare someone of his ranking from the normally distasteful task… but he really didn’t find it that distasteful in this instance.

[Y/n] was obviously a covert operative of some kind. He was relatively sure of your allegiances, and of your reasons, but nothing was ever certain in the cloak and dagger world of espionage. Childe had minimal contact with the Intelligence division of the Fatui. The Harbingers, as a rule, did not work in the shadows. Their title, their prestige was just as much a weapon as the ones they carried in their hands.

That being said, he’d be an idiot to let an opportunity like this one pass him by. You were obviously in over your head if that laughable excuse for a cover you used the night the two of you had met was anything to go by. He felt bad for you; he knew what it was like to have family held against you. Which, he was loathed to admit, really kind of left a sour taste in his mouth if he thought on his deception for too long.

He’d promised you asylum, but knew that he couldn’t guarantee your safety. He assured you that the Fatui could help, but knew they’d only grant amnesty if you turned (which would more likely than not put you in even more danger than you were already in). He couldn’t shake the image of your hysterics from the night before. The way you had crumpled in front of your friend, how you’d nearly gotten yourself killed when you reached for the body. Zhongli had confirmed the poison; it was all over the girl’s hands, smudged on her stomach and thighs, anywhere she’d touched the frame was covered in the deadly poison.

He recalled vividly the way your fingers trembled as you moved to take the girl’s hand. How very, very close you were to the same fate. If he were being honest seeing your reaction in that moment is what had confirmed your innocence to him. You’d looked utterly broken , and he was more than a little impressed with how you pulled yourself together. Childe had pulled aside several of the dancers to ask about your relationship with the dead girl.

“Ming was like a sister to her. She’s only been with the company for a year but… well she didn’t have any family,” one girl said to him. “[Y/n] looks out for all of us, but she’s especially protective of us if we have no one else,” she’d continued, and Childe could tell from her inflection she was in a similar position.

“And [y/n] was with the dancers the entire time?” Childe pressed the girl, who’s look of sadness morphed quickly into one of anger.

“The whole time,” she confirmed with a hard glare.

All the other dancers had similar opinions; [y/n] was kind, a hard worker, you gave more of yourself to the dance company than anyone ever expected. More than that, you was a friend to each and every one of them. Childe wanted to be suspicious of your intentions—friendliness is essential to information gathering—but then he’d recall the feel of your slim shoulders shuddering violently under his hands as sobs wracked your body. You weren’t a good enough actress to fake that.

Childe was on his way to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor to speak to Zhongli. He was hoping to find out more about the poison that had done the poor thing in. On his arrival he found not Zhongli tending to the body, but you . All his suspicions came rushing back.

“What are you doing?” Childe’s voice startled you so badly you dropped the rag in your hand. You whipped around to face him and—oh you looked like shit . You were still wearing the formal gown from the night before, your hair was a limp mess and there were dark circles under your red-rimmed eyes. It was very obvious you hadn’t slept at all.

“She doesn’t have anyone else,” you sighed, bending over to retrieve the rag you’d dropped. Childe noticed then that your hands were gloved (thank Archons).

“I… don’t understand. Why are you here?” He wasn’t familiar with Liyue funeral customs, but was fairly certain you shouldn’t be the one preparing her body.

“Someone had to wash and dress her,” you returned to your task and Childe approached cautiously, gaze lingering on the face of the dead girl. “And… I’m the—I… I need to do it. That’s all,” you stumbled over your words, voice thick with unshed tears.

"You seriously didn't even change clothes? [y/n] I didn't drop you off at your front door for nothing. It's dangerous for you to be out by yourself." Childe tried to reign in his frustration, but was doing a poor job of it.

"I was her friend. Whoever she really was doesn't matter. I owe her this," your voice was solid, but the Harbinger saw the tremor in your hands.

“It’s not your fault,” Childe reached out to touch your arm, but thought better of the contact when he saw how you flinched away from him.

“Not my fault?” You laughed, and it was a terrible, hollow sound. “I think you and I both know that to be false,” you paused to dip the cloth in a nearby bowl of sweetly scented oil. Childe frowned but did not refute your statement.

“Then what was she doing in that room? Why was she removing the painting? [Y/n], she was an Agent,” his voice was soothing, but the facts were undeniable. He’d yet to uncover the girl’s true identity or the Country she worked for, but the scene was incriminating enough on its own.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” you snarled. Childe took a step back, hands up to show he meant no harm.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for your loss and I’m sorry for that girl but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re looking at yourself. Your future, if you continue with this.” The eyes that met his were full of grief. He regretted saying anything.

“Please just leave me alone,” you implored. Childe shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that, [y/n].”

“Then leave me alone for now. Let me ease my friend’s crossing. Just give me that much,” Childe’s gaze was drawn back to the corpse on the table. Her hair had been brushed back and her face was peaceful enough that she could have been sleeping. He wondered for a moment if it was Zhongli or you who had sewn her eyes shut with such finesse.

“Okay,” he agreed, taking a business card from his coat pocket. “My address is here. I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay by yourself,” Childe dropped the card on the table by the door as he made his exit, hoping you’d take his words to heart. On the way out, he saw a flash of gold rounding the corner of the street.

“Zhongli!” Childe yelled, rushing to catch up to the elusive Consultant. He turned the corner a little too quickly and nearly ran into the older man.

“Childe,” he looked only mildly surprised. “What are you doing here?” The Harbinger shrugged, not having a great answer that did not involve you. “Would you like to come back to the Parlor with me for some tea? [Y/n] has been holding vigil, I am sure she would appreciate the company.”

“No thank you. I have other business to attend to,” Zhongli nodded in understanding. “Actually, I was looking for you—do you know what the poison was exactly?” Golden eyes narrowed and Childe could not tell if he was annoyed or confused.

“It was Archon’s Trumpet oil,” he finally answered, his expression carefully neutral. “Childe, I have nothing but respect for you, but you must understand my professional and personal position in this matter; please refrain from involving yourself.” Childe frowned, he’d never heard Zhongli use such a stern voice before.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said, trying to nudge a clarification out of the man.

“Professionally it is highly unorthodox for a foreigner to involve himself in the sacred rites of burial—” Zhongli lifted on hand to stall Childe’s protestation, “ personally I care a great deal for [y/n]. I have no issue with you pursuing her but this is a difficult time, your discretion would be appreciated.” Childe felt like he’d just been scolded by a schoolmaster. He nodded.

“My apologies, Master Zhongli,” Childe used the honorific he’d long since abandoned.

“Think nothing of it,” the Consultant smiled at him. “Now if you would excuse me, I have some flowers to source.” The two men said their goodbyes and went their separate ways: Zhongli to the market and Childe to his townhome. Normally he would offer to accompany the man (considering his penchant for forgetting his wallet) but he had far too much to think on that afternoon to be out in public and distracted.  

It was late that evening when Childe heard a knock at the door. He wondered—briefly—who it could be, though he could make an educated guess.

“Hello?” Your muffled voice called out.

“Coming, coming,” he yelled in reply, tugging on a soft pair of drawstring pants. He opened the door for you, lips pursed as he took in your appearance. He didn’t know it was possible, but you somehow looked worse than you had that morning; you still had not changed clothes, and though your face was scrubbed clean of your smeared makeup it only highlighted the hollowness of your cheeks and dark circles under your eyes.

“...Well are you going to let me in?” Childe stepped out of your way, gesturing towards the living area.

“I didn’t—”

“Think I would come? Yeah I’ve heard that one before,” you sighed, leaning against the wall of the entryway to steady yourself as you removed your heels. “I wasn’t planning on it, honestly, but someone tripped the wire in my apartment,” he raised one brow in askance.

“You rigged a bomb in your apartment?”

“No, like literally tripped a wire; it’s really more like a thin string across the threshold of my front door. If it’s there, I’m safe, if it’s not, time to run,” you explained. Maybe Childe had underestimated you.

“...um, okay,” he started, trailing after you into the living room.

“Do you mind if I use your shower? And maybe borrow some clothes? I’m sure you haven’t noticed but I’m a little worse for wear.” There was the barest hint of humor in your tone; the Harbinger could recognize an olive branch when it was offered and he readily agreed.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left. I’ll leave some clothes by the door,” you nodded once before heading in the direction he’d pointed. Childe watched you go, ears at attention in case you decided to go wandering.

But that was stupid, you had to be desperate if you were actually here and there was no way you’d be ballsy enough to try something in the home of a Harbinger of all people. Shaking himself from his thoughts, Childe made his way to the bedroom and began to rifle through his clothes. There was nothing that would fit you, so he wouldn’t even try; the best he could hope for was something that wouldn’t be actively falling off.

His fingers closed around a cotton sleep shirt, long enough that it would probably be a dress on you. Regardless, he also fished out the smallest drawstring pants he could find; he felt it would be a little presumptuous to give you something so provocative to wear, especially considering how uncomfortable you probably already were.

Folding the garments carefully he left them on the floor outside the bathroom door. He headed towards the kitchen, intending to rustle up some food, but sighed when he was confronted with an empty pantry. He’d forgotten to go to the market.

With a groan he shrugged on a light jacket and headed out the door. There, at the end of the hall, was a Fatui agent. He motioned for the boy to approach.

“Ah, y-yes, Tartaglia, uh, sir!” He stammered and Child bit back a laugh.

“Go to Wanmin Restaurant and get two orders of Jueyun Chili Chicken. Tell them to put it on my tab.” The boy nodded once before turning towards the stair (nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste). Satisfied to have arranged a dinner, Childe returned to his quarters where he poured himself a drink and picked up a book to wait. Or, well, arranged himself on the couch to appear as if he wasn’t waiting was more like it.  

It was nearly 45 minutes before he finally heard the telltale sign of the bathroom door creaking open as you grabbed the clothes from the hallway. The food had arrived some time ago and Childe was beginning to worry it would be cold by the time you’d finally emerged. He’d grown up with sisters, so he was acquainted with the female proclivity towards bathroom hogging—but he also had many sisters, so the hogging was usually kept to a minimum.

“That smells good,” you spoke, startling the Harbinger from his thoughts. Archons you were a quiet little thing.

“Leave any water for the fish?” He ribbed, not looking over as you made your way around the couch.

“Oh, no, was I supposed to?” You volleyed back, sinking into the cushion next to him with a sigh. You practically swam in his clothing. With your wet hair dripping down the fabric of his shirt and the pant cuffs rolled up the way they were you looked painfully innocent. Childe thought he preferred this look, as lovely as you were in the gown.

“So, dinner—” The Harbinger rose from his seat just as you sat down, eliciting a raised eyebrow from you. Had to nip that line of thought in the bud, after all. He snagged two plates and another glass and set the table, depositing the wine bottle in the center.

“Don’t you have any chopsticks?” You asked as you watched him dig through his cutlery.

“Of course not, you’ve seen me try and eat with the damned things. I’d starve to death!” He joked, smiling at the quiet chuckle that was his reward.

“You’re going to tell your superiors that I’m here, aren’t you?” The pivot in topic was sudden and Childe found all he could do was shrug.

“You know how this works,” he answered, filling your glass. “You don’t have to worry about the Fatui here. I’m the highest ranked field agent in Liyue, no one will lay a hand on you,” he assured. You did not look comforted.

“Unless you had anything to do with Ming’s death I don’t think it’s the Fatui I have to worry about,” you sipped at your wine.

“It wasn’t us,” he propped his chin up, one elbow on the table. “And if it wasn’t us and it wasn’t you , then that leaves the Guoanbu, the DGSE, the Knights of Favonius and the Kōanchōsa-chō as the most likely suspects,” he rattled of the intelligence agencies of Liyue, Fontaine, Mondstadt and Inazuma respectively.

“Do you know who she was working for?” You asked, Childe shook his head.

“Currently under investigation. It would help us narrow down the list, that’s for sure, but no—I’m as much in the dark as you are,” you looked disappointed at that answer.

“I don’t think it was the DGSE. I would know if there was another Agent operating out of the Harbor,” you mused, unintentionally confirming your association with Fontaine. Your poor training was honestly starting to concern him, how had you even stayed alive this long?

“Then that leaves the Guoanbu, the Knights and Kōanchōsa-chō,” he mused, spearing a hunk of chicken with his fork.

“I only know of three Inazuman Agents here, but that might have changed… Regardless, I think it was the Guoanbu.”

“And what makes you say that?” Childe inquired, trying to suss out or line of thinking. You shrugged.

“Instinct, really. I just have a feeling. I’ve learned to rely on instinct these past few years, it’s usually the only thing between me and an early grave,” Childe wanted to beat your Handler within an inch of their life.

“That… I’m pretty sure that’s not how espionage is supposed to work,” he deadpanned.

“Oh come off it, Bagman.” Childe choked on his chicken.

“Firstly, fuck you very much; secondly, I’ll have you know I don’t just bribe people.” The amused smile that formed on your lips was the most sincere expression of happiness he’d seen since the banquet.

“Then how would you describe your line of work?” You leaned across the table to nab the bottle of wine.

“I’m—uh-uh, nope, I’m not the amateur here, you won’t get me that easily,” he shot back, pushing his own glass forward for a refill as well.

The two of you shared a laugh, one that perhaps veered a little too close to hysterics, but a laugh nonetheless. As the chuckles died out a serious look came upon your face.

“This is kinda fucked up, huh?” Your remark was quiet, subdued.

“I don’t follow,” Childe replied.

“This—us—it’s not normal. I’m not eating dinner with you because you like me, I’m eating dinner with you because someone high up in your government wants to turn me traitor,” your smile had turned melancholic.

“That’s not entirely true,” he corrected. “You are here because I like you. If I didn’t you’d already be on a boat to a Snezhnyan Gulag.” That… wasn’t technically the truth. He may have suggested trying to turn you, but it’s not as if he had to fight hard for it. You blanched.

“Thank you, that’s very comforting,” the snark in your voice did nothing to cover the fear in your eyes.

“It wasn’t meant to be. Have you given any thought to my offer?” Childe stacked your empty plates before depositing them in the sink.

“Haven’t had much time to,” you replied honestly. He grabbed the half empty bottle and made his way to the living area. No need for difficult conversations to take place on uncomfortable chairs after all.

“You know I’ll need an answer eventually, right?” He sank into the couch. You shrugged, not following him.

“What happens if I say no?” Standing there, glass in hand, eyes locked on his, swimming in those borrowed clothes… Childe wanted to lie, but could not bear to.

“Nothing good,” the silence between you was heavy. You gave a single, short nod of understanding before sitting sideways on the couch, your legs thrown over Childe’s own. He was surprised, but hid it well.

“Then do I really have a choice?” You pondered aloud. The Harbinger didn’t think you were looking for an answer, but gave one anyway.

“You always have a choice. They’re just not always equal choices,” he traced the vein on the inside of your wrist with a featherlight touch, pretending not to notice the way it made you shiver.  

Report;

Agent Pisces believes me to be DGSE. Please supply corresponding Pocket Litter to Ferryman drop.

Boarding with Pieces, cease all direct drop contact immediately. Brush Passes in the flowers still clean, will debrief after Opera.

Swallow

[ronnie-azumane]

Kitten?

This is something I came up with at midnight while trying to complete my numerous missing assignments. I apologize in advance

Summary: Tsukishima Kei is a mod of a discord server And with his luck, he finds his first love on the server he runs. He falls head over heels, and vows to fulfill all her needs. However, not everything is what it seems.

Tsukishima was a simple man with simple likes. Granted, However, these likes weren’t as commonplace among his peers.

Sure, he moderated a Discord Server full of people of all ages. In said server, they would play games and talk about the various shows they watched together, some of which were considered children shows.

“Anyone catch the new episode of My Little Pony?” someone on the server would ask.

Tsukishima would bat in immediately, saying, “Remember the two-week spoiler warning, everything else must be covered and properly tagged.” He was the perfect mod, as he was both online all the time he didn’t have school or practice, as well as he was a stickler for the rules. Plus, he had only recently gained access to last week’s episode not long ago, therefore, he had not seen the new episode.

Another thing he liked to do on this server was talk to others on the voice call feature. He enjoyed talking to the many people who decided to join the server, even making a couple of friends, which he refused to believe for the longest time.

One of these many friends was a user that went by the name of gamergirl05. She was a peculiar person, only logging in late at night and logging out early in the morning, only to be away from her computer until late that night again.

She intrigued Tsukishima. Not only was she one of the only girls on the server, she always seemed to be on the voice chat. She never typed messages, never spoke, unless she was spoken to on the voice call. 

Her voice was soft and breathy, with a medium pitch. Her profile picture was a white cartoon cat against a pastel pink background. Sometimes, when playing videogames, you could here her grunt in frustration every once in a while.

Tsukishima couldn’t help from gaining a crush. 

She didn’t seem clingy, she seemed rather chill and independent, it was like God itself sent this woman into Tsukishima’s life. 

She was perfect.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but get excited whenever he saw that she was online. He would always join the voice call whenever he saw she was online.

They would have meaningful conversation. Tsukishima would learn much about her. She was living in Tokyo. She was a year older than Tsukishima; a second year in high school. She had been playing videogames for as long as she could remember. She has an overactive imagination, pretending that she was getting chased by dragons and facing checkpoints every time she walked to school in the morning. She wasn’t popular, but had a couple of close knit friends.

The more they talked, the more Tsukishima fell head over heels. However, the more he started to fall for her, the more he realized that he didn’t know how to express himself in a positive way. He was known as a negative nelly most of his life, with his relationship with the fellow members of the Karasuno volleyball club solidifying that feeling of disgust he felt toward others. Ever with his best friend Yamaguchi he was unable to show positive feelings toward, even though he didn’t feel anything negative toward his best friend.

Unknowing what to do, he looked up online ‘how to show someone you like them,’ only to come up with a website offering a free test to those wondering what their love language was. perfect.

Tsukishima took the test, answering each question as truthfully as he could, even asking his mom what she thought of him for one of the questions.

After thirty minutes of reading, understanding, and clicking, Tsukishima gat the result he was looking for- his love language.

His love language was gift-giving.

He knew exactly what to do at that point. 

Later that night, he stared at the voice call box, waiting for a certain someone to join the call. At 11:00pm on the dot, gamergirl05 joined the call. Tsukishima joined the call soon after.

“Um, hey, uh, how was your day?” Tsukishima asked her.

“My day? I guess it was okay,” she replied. Her voice was still light and breathy as usual. Not too high-pitched as to make Tsukishima believe that she was fake, and not to low to make her sound unattractive to him. The perfect voice for arguably the perfect human.

“Do you have Nitro by any chance?” Tsukishima asked her.

“No, I don’t see the benefit for paying for it myself,” she replied.

“If someone got it for you, would you use it?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“I-I Don’t mid gifting it to you, if you tell me your Venmo, Ill send the money right now!”

“Ok.” 

She read off a couple of letters and numbers, spelling out her Venmo for him to gift money to. Tsukishima used his mom’s credit card to send her over $50, with the unspoken promise of paying her back one day, even though she didn’t even know her youngest son stole her card.

They talked the rest of the night, until Tsukishima had to go to bed.

XxX

Tsukishima didn’t let up on his gifts to gamergirl05, or Cat as she started referring herself to. Anything she mentioned offhandedly form a new skin to a longing for a fast food meal, Tsukishima sent her the appropriate funds needed to retrieve that item. 

Each monetary gift he sent on Venmo was given a reply of the kissing face emoji.

Tsukishima was over the moon. Not only was he becoming better at volleyball every day after school, but he was also getting closer and closer to Cat. When he found out that he was going to Tokyo for a training camp, he excitedly went online that night to tell cat about how he was going to be in Tokyo and that maybe they could meet up.

“Sorry, but I have plans for that weekend,” Cat said. Tsukishima sighed, but figured as much. He was disappointed, but not surprised.

However, he picked himself up by the bootstraps and packed up his stuff to go to Tokyo for the training camp.

XxX

The weekend was tough. Karasuno faced loss after loss against the Tokyo powerhouse schools. However, the team had learned a lot about both themselves and their offensive and defensive power.

After a long weekend of training, all the guys were sore. All their muscles were aching and screaming, begging for some relief.  The coaches complied, supplying all the players with all the watermelon they could eat.

All the players gathered into groups, talking within each other’s friend groups. Tsukishima kept his distance from the others, with Yamaguchi joining in with them. They talked about various topics here and there, but nothing too serious.

Tsukishima was starting to zone out, thinking about Cat, and what she may or may not be doing. He hated to admit it, but he was head over heels in love, even though he had never seen Cat in a picture, much less in person.

While Tsukishima was zoning out, thinking of his unofficial lover, Hinata, Kenma, and Lev gathered nearby, talking loudly about who knows what. Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention, until the topic of discord came up. All his focus then went into listening in on this conversation.

“So you guys are on discord? What servers are you guys in?” Hinata asked.

“Not too many, I bet Kenma’s on a couple though,” Lev replied, only for Kenma to grunt in reply.

“Oh really! What servers are you on, Kenma?”

“Ehh, just a couple here and there. I frequent a My Little Pony server because a mod there gives me money a lot.”

Tsukishima felt a shock run throughout his body. A My Little Pony server? Maybe he was on the same server as him. He would never bring it up, but he was glad to know someone on the server; talking to 12-year-olds all day did get old.

“Wait, someone pays you to be on a My Little Pony server?” Lev asked.

“No, I think he is somehow attracted to me, every time I mention something I want, he sends me money.” Kenma replied, taking a massive bite out of his watermelon slice.

‘That’s kind of odd, who would give money like that to a guy like Kenma?’ Tsukishima thought.

“How did you do that, Kenma? I could sure use the extra cash,” Hinata asked.

“Well, Kuroo taught me to raise my voice like this to sound like some kind of gamer girl,” Kenma explained in a girly voice. Not too high to sound fake, not too low to sound unattractive. Perfect.

Just like Cat.

‘This has to be a coincidence, there’s no way that Kenma and Cat are the same person’ Tsukishima desperately thought. 

“Oh, do you guys want to be friends on Discord, so we can keep in contact?” Hinata asked.

“I guess. I’m gamergirl05#0000,” Kenma replied, essentially murdering Tsukishima with his response.

Tsukishima stood up from where he was sitting. Forgetting the fact that he was still supposed to be in a conversation with Yamaguchi, he left the area, trying to find a secluded area, eventually settling for a small ally in between two of the gyms.

Once making sure he couldn’t be seen, he let all his held-in emotions out. He screamed up to the sky as the threw his watermelon rind against the wall, watching it break into numerous pieces. 

“My Heart!” he screamed out, “I loved her!” He sank to the ground and let the tears flow. As he wailed out in despair, he covered his face with one hand while knocking his fist against the grass with his other.

Yamaguchi, who saw this all go down, ran up to go comfort his best friend. He didn’t know what was going on, other than the fact that his best friend was a mess on the floor.

How was Tsukishima going to tell his mom, who was already suspicious of him stealing her credit cards, that the money wasn’t being spent on her future Daughter in law? How was he going to log back in on the server, knowing he was cat fished?

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. All he knew at that moment was the soft an warm hand of Yamaguchi softly rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down.

[college-girl199328]

Abhinaya Yeddala's plan to become a family doctor and build a life in Nova Scotia is coming to fruition — but she says she nearly gave up and left the province because of a requirement that added more than two years to the process.

Yeddala, originally from India, is now a family medicine resident at a clinic in New Glasgow. She completed her undergraduate degree in the United Kingdom before moving to Malaysia to begin medical school.

But she had to wait almost two and a half years before taking the next step in her career. This is because there is an obligation in most Canadian provinces that she obtain permanent resident status before applying for medical residency.

She said that the tedious and lengthy process almost drove her away. It was very stressful as well as frustrating," Yeddala said. There was this fear of what if I got what I wanted in Canada. What do I do then?

According to the Canadian Resident Matching Service, every province is responsible for its additional eligibility criteria. Currently, every region except Quebec accepts only Canadian citizens or permanent residents.

When Yeddala and her classmates first decided to come to Canada, the International Medical University in Malaysia with Dalhousie University sent approximately five students to complete their studies in Atlantic Canada.

Yeddala said at the time, Newfoundland and Labrador didn't require permanent resident status for international students beginning their residency. They were frustrated because they all came in wanting to be doctors in Canada. They would have chosen the UK. They had other options … they could stay in Canada.

Yeddala said she worked jobs and waited for permanent residency because she planned to get married and settle in Nova Scotia. But it was a different story for most of her classmates who didn't have Canadian citizenship.

"Everybody who graduated with me except [one student] left," she explained. "That's 18 doctors we lost in Nova Scotia, so that's pretty unfortunate." Though she is already through the most involved process, Yeddala said she wants to speak up for others. She said the current healthcare crisis in the province and the family doctor shortage made it challenging to seek change.

There's a crisis, and when everybody's talking about it, it's the right time to talk. This is because everybody is listening. Yeddala said it's easier for international students to begin their residency in the U.K. or the U.S. In the U.S., once a student is matched with a residency position, they get help working on their immigration status.

It's very different from here because they want to know their immigration status first. This is a catch-22 since if you do not have a job, your immigration status will not be approved.

CBC asked the provincial Department of Health and Wellness and the Office of Healthcare Professionals Recruitment if there is any intent to change the requirements to make it easier for Canadian medical graduates without Canadian citizenship to do their medical residency in Nova Scotia, but a spokesperson would not say.

Khalehla Perrault wrote in an email that the demand for residency seats is high and that all seats funded by the province last year were filled. The area will support 129 seats in 2023.

Perrault said staff from the Office of Healthcare Professionals Recruitment are happy to speak to medical school graduates interested in working in the province's healthcare system.

We want to hear about and better understand if changes are needed. Yeddala said she has been working behind the scenes for years to have exceptions granted or to see policy change in Nova Scotia.

But she said she's happy to see a recent increase in communication between the province and healthcare stakeholders. She hopes that international doctors are considered as part of the solution.

They're here for a reason. They want to make Canada their home. They're not here to get trained and leave. People are desperate to work as doctors here, and the province is desperate to have doctors, so there is a match.

[pinkhairedlily]

Wanting Validations

Chapter 5 of The Spring He Came Back | 5 of 12

“Momo, don’t forget your bento,” Baba called out just before Hinamori dashed towards her bicycle. She grabbed the two packed bento from her grandmother and pecked her cheek.

“I’ll try my best to give this to Hitsugaya today.” She was having trouble finding Hitsugaya without being caught by professors and other supervisors. “He’s gonna miss out on the fresh watermelon slices you packed in otherwise.”

Despite their staggered meetings, she found herself in high spirits. Dr. Aizen has continued to depend on her more, even letting her write a draft for a book section. She wasn’t sure if she had the qualifications to write such. She was only finishing her first semester, but the professor tempered her self-doubts with assurances.

“I don’t know if you ever noticed this, Hinamori. You’re a fast learner. You have the highest grades in your section, even above the upper middle-class folk,” Dr. Aizen handed her a large bulk of papers. “These are some designs I’m planning to use for my large-scale project next year. Go through them and annotate for me, would you?”

She was continuously yawning until she reached the academy. She glanced at the clock tower in the middle of the campus grounds and figured she can slip in a quick nap before her morning classes. She was busy deciphering the documents in the past few weeks to the point that she would sometimes go without sleep.

“I think I have a migraine,” Momo grumbled to herself. “Dr. Aizen should be consistent with his handwriting. The varying strokes in each document are like sending me on an acid trip.”

“What sends you into an acid trip?” Hitsugaya popped in behind her, dressed in the flashy, identifying grabs of a Soul member. He reached out to grab her arm and led her through a narrow alley between the buildings.

“Hey, good morning Shirou,” Momo said sarcastically while trying to match his steps. They arrived in front of a small almost-dilapidated room. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Maybe, do you want me to shower you with yellow petals?” he joked. The room inside was definitely not worn down. The three Rs were there but were all asleep in bunk beds. Rukia and Renji sleeping together in the lower bunk with backs behind each other. That made Hinamori blush until she remembered Hitsugaya saying they were also childhood friends. Rangiku was passed out in the upper bunk with a subtle smell of alcohol.

“I see your nostrils twitching. Rangiku needs alcohol sometimes to power through her exams,” he gestured for me to sit on a day bed on the corner of the room.

“What is this?” Hinamori asked, feeling a little slow because she was only able to get two hours of sleep. She sat beside him and controlled the urge to close her eyes.

“It’s an escape dungeon. They think this is the sleeping quarters of the custodians, which of course is, but they rented it out to us.” Seeing Momo settled, he started to fill the nearby kettle to boil some water. “Did you get converted into a coffee addict or are you still my tea-loving friend Momo?”

“Black tea please.” Momo smiled at him. “How erratic are your schedules? Our class is about to start in one hour.”

He glanced at her, smirking. “How erratic is your schedule? Your eyebags are heavier than mine. Oh, is that a bento?”

“Baba made this. It has watermelon inside.” At such an opportune moment, Hitsugaya’s stomach grumbled. “Come on, let’s eat together like the good old days.”

She thought he was about to grab his bento box, but he reached out across her, their faces looming closer to each other. “Why don’t you sneak in some snoozes while I eat?” He was arranging the pillows behind her.

Hinamori woke up to the school bells ringing, a flurry of robes, and cacophony of curses. Slightly disoriented, she found herself waking up from Hitsugaya’s lap who was frozen red in his place, the empty bento box on the table beside him and a gray flask. How she got to that position she will never know because panic started to set in.

“Good morning, Hinamori!” Renji and Rukia both yelled before running through the door.

“Gotta go, childhood friends. Gotta thank you Histugaya. Renting this place primarily to see Hinamori and secondarily for us to rest is genius,” Rangiku said as she traipsed outside.

“Fuck,” Hitsugaya muttered under his breath, truly embarrassed. “Here’s your black tea Momo. Tell Baba her bento gave me the energy I needed.” He handed her the gray flask without meeting her eyes. “You gotta go, although your classroom’s much nearer.”

Still disoriented, she started towards the exit. Remembering a nagging question in her mind, she halted and glanced back at him, “Shirou-chan.”

“Hmm?” He still wasn’t meeting her gaze.

“How did you preserve the daffodils? It was below zero temperatures that week. Frost would have already killed them.”

This time he looked at her. “I just sprayed them with a solution I made, Momo. But I know you would have found a way to alter them naturally.”

Hitsugaya always has this weird way of validating her. His trust in her abilities has grown so much despite the time that they were apart. She wanted to honor that. “Thank you.”

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

It has soon become their morning routine – Hinamori with her bento boxes that soon included the rest of the group, Hitsugaya with the black tea for her and coffee for the rest, and few minutes of snooze on the sofa slash day bed. It wasn’t as if they haven’t slept beside each other since they were kids, but the slight reprieve was something to look forward to. They would be able to slip in mundane conversations in between, but almost often Hinamori would doze off in the middle of Hitsugaya’s rants. She has fully exchanged her nights with sleepless annotations for the experiment designs. She knew Dr. Aizen was ambidextrous, but it bothered her that the blueprints and guides frequently changed handwriting styles, and the discussion structures varied. Well, it couldn’t be helped that the professor’s thoughts ran too wildly that his hands were barely able to keep up. By the end of the semester, she was able to finish the book section, submit the annotations with her own suggestions for recalibration, and top her class.

“I think it was only a matter of time, Hinamori.” Rangiku quickly stole Hitsugaya’s sandwich from his hands and sat across them in their (open) secret hideout.

“What is?” Hinamori resisted the urge to clean the room. Printouts were sprawled everywhere, coffee stains on beds and tables, and a lot of instant ramen packs. While general admission students have the benefit of semestral break, the core Soul group tended to be occupied with competitions, conferences, and exhibits abroad. Hitsugaya’s group will be traveling to Karakura next week to compete against the infamous Ishida Uryuu, a prodigy of optics in physics.

“Why don’t you make your own sandwich Rangiku?” Hitsugaya grunted as he downed the last bit of his coffee and decided to lie down on the day bed behind his childhood friend’s sitting figure. After a minute or two, he started to snore.

“Your membership to the core group, of course. Hard to miss your superb accomplishments,” Rangiku replied. “Your radiant personality is also a plus. That would make it easier to hang out with us.”

Hinamori blushed at the compliment. “Thanks, Rangiku, but I really doubt I’ll get in.” The gap in expertise and intellect between core and general admission students was assumed to be wide enough to hinder friendships between the two groups, but she never felt that way with them. Granted that she was Hitsugaya’s friend, they never reacted strongly to her addition. It was true however that there was a gap. What inherent genius they have been born with, she compensated with hard work.

“Wish us luck though. I hate to see the bastard Ichigo smirking if we fail in the exhibit.” She’d be exaggerating, but veins really started to pulse around Renji’s temples.

“Stupid, there’s no if. We won’t fail. As if I’d let Ishida rub his win over my dead body,” Rukia interjected with the intensity of her competitiveness. She turned to Hinamori with an embarrassed smile. “Well, the deliberation will probably happen over the break. With us out in Karakura, they’d probably not look much into your relationship with Hitsugaya or with us.”

“Apparently, according to the academy’s standards, friendships are not meritorious. Such a stupid rule,” Renji added. This was the reason why they avoided letting both students and professors see them together. Only Dr. Aizen knew of their friendship. He made her feel like she could trust him with her secrets.

As if Rangiku read her mind, she quipped, “You’ve been meeting Dr. Aizen lately, right Hinamori?”

“I volunteered as his research assistant. The professor has a lot of projects with the academy so I do my best to ease the load.”

“How many projects is he handling?”

“He has five large-scale projects programmed for this year.”

“And he’s doing it solo? Wow, that’s a lot of work and a lot of funding.”

“Thank God for the investors, I guess.”

“If you get accepted as a core member, he would lose a great RA,” Renji assured her. A big question mark was probably on her face because he immediately expounded his statement. “Core members are expected to complete projects on their specialization. If you’re as genius as the midget sleeping over there or Rukia’s brother, you can complete as many as you like. But most of the time, we work in groups like how professors work together too.”

Rukia aided him, “What Renji is trying to say, you won’t have the time to help Dr. Aizen anymore.”

A foreign feeling crept along her insides. Over the years, she has mastered the act of hiding her emotions with a nonchalant smile, and she did this now to brush off three pairs of probing eyes. Confusing emotions from the conversation accompanied her to the semestral break party organized by her section. Balloons and streamers decorated the interior of their go-to ramen house. The owner, enamored with the boisterous students, provided free-flowing broth and discounted noodles refill. Several of her classmates tapped her on the shoulder and congratulated her for landing on the top.

In the midst of jovial cacophony, she felt untethered. Needing the space to rationalize her thoughts, she quietly slipped out of the party and traced her steps back to the academy. She was floating in-between circles, trying to walk beside her friend and at the same time, trying to make sense of who she was and what she wanted to be. Her memories brought her back to her first conversation with Dr. Aizen where she truly felt seen and needed.

But she was spending her days playing catch up to someone who doesn’t need her. Did she really want to join the core group to realize her dreams or did she want to join simply because of Toshirou? She found herself in front of Dr. Aizen’s office. “Professor.”

The door opened, revealing a disheveled glass-less Aizen. His furrowed brows immediately softened when he saw her. “Hinamori, come in.”

Hinamori hesitated because she didn’t know why she went to his office in the first place and what she wanted to talk about. But she stepped in anyway without further prodding, afraid to disappoint him. “Professor, I-“

“I saw your annotations, and I appreciated the suggestions for calibrations. You made my job much easier, Hinamori. You brought these projects closer to completion at a much earlier date.” He brushed his fingers through his brown hair and sighed contentedly. “But I need you to do one more thing for me. It’s very urgent, and only you can do it.”

Warmth coursed through her body. He trusted her well enough to do this. “Anything for you, Dr. Aizen.”

He quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. It was a description of a notebook– plain black cover, velvet finish, coffee-stained surfaces, and the first few pages ripped out. “It’s my long-lost notebook. I’ve searched everywhere, but I cannot find it. Maybe you can look through the libraries.”

“It will be difficult, Professor, given the broad description, but I will not let you down.”

“Of course, Hinamori. I know you too well already. You exceed my expectations. Do find it quickly for our funders. They are expecting me to complete the study over the break.”

“Over the break! That’s short notice, Dr. Aizen. You need to rest!” she complained. Embarrassed of her outburst, she covered her face with her small hands, flushing red at her visible concern towards her mentor. “I mean, please think of your health Sir.”

The brown-haired doctor looked at her incredulously and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I really lucked out with you, Hinamori. Why are you here again? Do you need to tell me something?”

She peeked at him through her fingers but found she can’t return his steady gaze. Straying her eyes to the floor, she requested, “Please deny my membership to the core group, Sir. I want to stay by your side more.” All of her senses were overwhelming her because of his close proximity and the comfortable weight of his large hands on her shoulders. Her emotions may have gone into override when he pulled her into a hug.

“Of course, Hinamori. You’re my one and only precious research assistant.”

She found the notebook the following day in the same library where she and Hitsugaya used to go, conveniently so as it was positioned beside her most borrowed ecology book. It was a tattered piece of document, but the experiment design and the parameters set were the first of their kind. She brought it immediately to Dr. Aizen and suggested to patent it. “You could name the methodology after you, Professor. Or better if it’s a theory – Aizen Laws on Ecological Succession or something.”

“Aren’t you a doll? You always say the most interesting things.”

With the set deadline for this particular study, Hinamori agreed to accompany the professor in a fieldwork on a mountain outside of town for a week. She would be back in time for Baba’s birthday.

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

She didn’t make it back in time. She got stuck with Dr. Aizen for two weeks in the mountain because he needed to repeat his sampling, not that she regretted it. Baba will understand. I expect she’ll be angry for a few days, but I’ll make it up to her. I just missed one birthday after all.

What she didn’t expect was Hitsugaya standing guard under the camphor tree, worried, angry, and defiant at the same time.

“Where the fuck did you go, Momo?”

NEXT CHAPTER | 6 OF 12 | IN RETROSPECT

[calla-lefford]

The funeral of Grover Tully

Location: The Riverlands, Riverrun

Under the cut you will find Calla’s interactions at Grover Tully’s funeral with Wylla Tully ( @wyllatully ), Garrett Erenford ( @garrett-erenford ), Garland Hightower ( @garlandhightower ), Brynden Tully ( @rvrprnc ), Cedric Tyrell ( @visxionaries ), Harrion Stark ( @harrionstark ), Henry Lannister ( @henryoflannister ), Elyse Tully ( @goldcnaura ), Cian Tully ( @rxverlanders ), Hal Storm Jaehaerys Targaryen ( @targaryenstorm ), Mellara Tully ( @mellaratully ), Tyrin Lannister ( @tyrinlan ), Guinevere Lannister ( @gcuienveres ), Clare Tully ( @ladyotheriver ) and Araya Frey ( @ladycfthecrossing )

WYLLA TULLY: Planning and execution were two of Wylla Tully's greatest skills. There was nothing she couldn't put together that would not be excellent. A dinner to bring together the allied forces against Grover Tully in the very halls he used to roam on the same day he was buried as the Tully tradition dictated? Easy. A meal fine enough for kings but still tame enough for a funeral day was spread out for the family and their guests. As the last servant poured the wine and the last plate was brought out to pick from, she motioned for the family and guests to dig in. “Please, enjoy yourselves.” She kept her voice relatively somber, settling down in her chair fully after she spoke to the room, eyes settling on faces she'd never seen but had helped end her father's tyranny in one way or another.

GARRETT ERENFORD: The commander's respect for Grover Tully had been nonexistent, though a man in his position could at least pretend a certain amount of deference for the old trout. It was expected of him to be present at an event such as this one, he supposed, though he only found himself in attendance because of Grover's children, not the corpse himself. Some of them were family to him. As Wylla Tully spoke, he raised his glass and nodded in silence, knowing better than to offend her with condolences. He didn't say honorable words about the old man, all he hoped for was that the gods -if there truly were deities watching over this wretched world- would grant the Tully children long, better lives than that of their late father.

GARLAND HIGHTOWER: Garland didn't know why he was here. Well, he did, he knew his prince had decided on a deal with the Riverlands that made balancing the Reach's coffers and books more than a headache for the past few weeks as all the last details were ironed out between him and the Lord Frey in charge of the Riverland's gold. Sitting next to Cedric, Garland kept his wounded leg straight under the table while the good one bounced with anxiety as he drained his first glass of wine after given leave by the Tully princess. Such a position also let him favor the arm of his chair closest to his future king. “So far everything's settled in terms of the numbers, and we can start everything agreed upon when we return to Highgarden.” he said low enough to Cedric. “Unless you have last minute changes?”

BRYNDEN TULLY: There has been a long time coming. Between justice and un, the Tully children have been dealt a strong deal of both. Where they are now is not without the strength of family, duty, and honor that they make of their words and their values. Though, there was question brought to Brynden. What are they if not family? They stick together, their bond is true, but what are they if individual beings? A king is a king, not equal to one's brothers and sisters, nor even parents. A king is individual. Brynden could not be, he could not rule without his four sisters and half brother a title as great, and so would it be fair to call him king? Most especially after his findings? Findings calling another, king. There had been much thinking, observing done in the most recent of days. Questions of strength, self, and integrity. All Brynden knew he could be, or wanted to be was who he was before the war, and it was the version of self he would give it all up to go back to. His siblings would always be his siblings, and now he would choose to always be him, the Brynden that came before the neverending dance with spins and twirls. Brynden clears his throat, calling forth the attention of those who are seated around him. “Call it what you may, but this is an unfortunate passing, a passing that came not by traitorous acts, traitorous allies; worn masks by foes. Today I lost a father, and my siblings theirs. Today my father and mother meet again by the grace of the Seven. There is loss here, and there is sadness. And at the end of the day we all sit here, yours and ours,” he gestures to the parties joining the Tullys. “To bid farewell to one king and welcome another in his place. A place, that was meant for me.” His eyes move to Cedric, “but it is a place I cannot take, and will not take.” He raises from his lap a paper that he hands to him first, “It is for Cian to take. The legitimized heir, signed by with no other than the handwriting of my father.”

CEDRIC TYRELL: Cedric found himself remaining briefly in the Riverlands for the funeral of a king; an anointed king, with a bloodline that could be traced for a thousand years, he who seemed the most stable of all high within the walls of Riverrun. For the situation had grown effortlessly dire, with the River King remaining safe behind the walls of Riverrun whilst it looked as though they would have to siege; and all of Westeros knew, one could not siege Riverrun as though it were simply a castle made of paper cards. “See to it the books are kept safe under lock and key until we have returned to our soil.” Cedric spoke under his breath as he watched a serving girl pour him a glass of wine, turning his attention toward Brynden Tully, who had risen from his seat to utter some words. Family was a fickle matter; Cedric perhaps understood better than others how dire relationships between family could become, giving the correct circumstances. After all, were there not thoughts in the back of his mind, hoping the King of Thorns would befall some tragic accident?

Bringing the goblet of wine to his lips, he noticed the man's eyes looking over at him; they were beginning a new chapter of life around similar times. At least, that was until... his thoughts trailed to the books he had just spoken to his Master of Coin about; he had made his condition explicitly clear, it was only his childhood friend Brynden he would trust to start this journey with; with Reach money funding the Riverlands, there would be progress. Or would have been. There were no words to come from his mouth, his gaze remaining fixed on the man, his orbs becoming increasingly colder with each minute. Then, finally. “It would be wise to reconsider.”

HARRION STARK: Harrion felt like he had stepped back in time, sitting in the hall at Riverrun like he had done so many time during his time fostered here. And yet, so very much had changed. For one, Grover Tully’s formidable figure no longer sat at the front of the room. He had spent most of the day with his eyes trained like a hawk on Elyse, watching for any sign that she might not be alright, and moving to stand next to her or to throw her a smile across the crowd when it seemed so.

He had found a seat next to her during dinner, his leg pressed reassuringly against hers under the table in a manner neither of them had chosen to acknowledge. His wolfskin cloak, the best he owned, was draped over the back of her chair from when he had wrapped it protectively around her shoulders on their way back inside. Normally the loudest man in every room, his rough norther accent unmissable, he had grown quiet tonight.

When Brynden, the oldest friend he has, the closest thing he has to a brother next to Rodrik, clears his throat, Harrion’s attention is caught like a fish in a net. His head tilts ever so slightly to one side, a frown marring his brow, trying to figure out what it means. He manages to bite down on the curse against the dead man that threatens to leave his lips. It was not often he would willingly agree with a Tyrell, but he nodded his assent. “Bryn…” he looked from the man he had always assumed would take Grover’s place at the helm of the Riverlands and then the the Rivers bastard of the same auburn hair as the rest of them. “Surely not…”

HENRY LANNISTER: Truthfully; Henry Lannister little for the Grover king, and even less for the Tullys overall, for it seemed as though once again some element of family theatrics were spilling before the world stage. The man, dressed in velvet maroon and gold, was sat to the left of his siblings. he took a deep gulp of the Arbor wine in his goblet as the Tully prince stood to make a speech, no doubt regarding his limp, dead father. The man was expressionless, his eyes surveying the notable guests in attendance, those who had made their presence known, those who had sent delegates and thoughts and respects. In truth, such a man who would risk such turmoil upon his own lands would not be granted a funeral; but rather be hung, drawn and quartered. If one chose to behave like a thirsty animal in life, they would meet their end like an animal.

Though, his eyes looked up as it seemed Brynden Tully was renouncing his right to the River throne, all for a man called Cian to come and take. His gaze fixed upon the other Tully male, older than the prince in question, who looked as though the world had just been flipped from beneath his feet. Looking sideways at Tyrin and Guinevere, he simply shook his head. It was not something they should pursue any further, in his own opinion; they needed to ally with an experienced leader. “It no longer benefits this family.”

ELYSE TULLY: The mood had altered so much within the span of minutes that the Tully princess nearly felt faint. It made her queasy to think that things truly were out of their control. She had laid her eyes upon the lit boat, the flames embracing it had taken a liking to the river all the same. The girl had stood there, watching the flames for a moment too long before turning her back on whatever remained of Grover Tully. Harrion had been waiting for her, he had wrapped his cloak around her and she had gratefully accepted. Though the chills that claimed her body were perhaps not because of the wind.

Light gaze watched her brother as he stood, comforted by the presence of her family and the touch of the northern prince. she is unsure what she was expecting from Brynden but the words that spew from his lips… well, she was not expecting that. Gaze flickers instinctively to Wylla and she bites back a grimace as Cedric speaks. Eyes find her big brother, legitimized by her late father as a last means of perhaps being a pain even in death. She’s conflicted - Brynden had grown up expecting to take his father’s place, knowing he would and now… Cian was everything his siblings always saw him as. A Tully, not a Rivers.

“Cian?” Elyse calls quietly, glancing at him where he sat besides her. “Are you alright?” His life was about to change just as much as the rest of theirs and she cannot help but worry for him, wonder what exactly is going through his mind. Finally, her gaze finds Brynden. What was to come of him? “And what of yourself, brother ??” There’s heaviness in her heart, a silent sign she will not like his answer. Slowly, a hand finds Harrion’s beneath the table.

CIAN TULLY: The man remained sat as his brother rose to his feet, ready to make his euology regarding Grover Tully; and what a man he was, long before the dragons danced in the sky. He was a man that endured his bastard son was treated well within the triangle walls of Riverrun, ate at the same table as his siblings, was in family portraits, was called son regardless of surname; Cian himself never once felt a sense of resentment or anger toward his father, for it was his inviting nature and his prioritisation of family that gave Cian the confidence to be the man he was today. For yes, he were a bastard; but he were more than that too.

And yet, as Cian listened intently to the words of his brother, there were certain words he did not think to ever hear. For he had been legitimised; he was a Tully in name and heart. And yet, it came at a price, a price that could knock the wind from him. The man rose to his feet briefly, standing beside his brother and putting a hand on his shoulder, keeping his voice incredibly low.

“Come on lad..” Cian muttered, his tone concerned yet there was an element of irritation behind it, at the very back of his throat. “Think rationally, he wasn't in his greatest of minds toward his final days. This...” he trailed off, a slight laugh of shock escaping from his lips. “This isn't happening.”

HAL STORM JAEHAERYS TARGARYEN: Tension. It made him nostalgic for family dinners. He almost wanted to stand and give a speech. He didn't have a speech to give. He was hungry and he did want to eat. There were pluses. He could learn something new. There could be some information that he didn't know before. Jae looked around the table and smiled into his cup, taking another drink.

He didn't care about the Tullys. He didn't really hate fish unless it was in a stew. Maybe something thick cut. Jae put his cup down and considered offering something. He supposed that all funerals came with their own sort of tensions. Headaches. Dead men meant one thing. Schemes and Jae liked schemes. Especially schemes he could watch safely from the sidelines.

“Enjoy is a strong recommendation. give the circumstances. lovely table setting.”

MELLARA TULLY: The words from her brother clearly sent a shock wave throughout the entire hall. It was clear none of them knew this information was coming. Mel stared at her brother, dumbfounded he had no warned her of his news to come. After all the two of them had been through together. Everything at Dragonstone the two of them suffered, the night of the attack, the trials. Their time in the Vale, the war. All of that they had shared together and he could not tell her of this earth-shattering news.

Her eyes flickered over to Cian, clear by his expression he had little idea what was happening either. Cian was a good man, a good brother to them all. A Tully like he always had been. There was little doubt in her mind about that. But never had she thought of him becoming king, since that spot had always been in line for Brynden. And now everything was out of sorts. The quiet in the hall seemed never-ending as she waited for someone to say something. Lucian happily babbling away sitting on her lap stretching out his arms to his nearby aunts for attention, not aware of the changes his family was facing.

Mel wanted to say something to Cian but before she could, he rose from his seat and went towards their brother. Mel unsure of what to say or what even could be said. “Is this not something that should be discussed later?” she asked, her voice low hoping only her siblings could hear it. There were too many others here. But maybe that's what Brynden wanted. To announce in front of others. His words could not be taken back now after being heard by so many.

TYRIN LANNISTER: Tyrin is a man for surprises, but not this one. This news would mean that the Lannisters and the Westerlands would have to come up with a plan B, but they only ever needed their plan A's. There was frustration, anger within him. The wine he was to bring to taste, near came pouring out of his mouth. Who would give up their regency? And to a bastard? “You speak against your region if you speak for a bastard.” A bastard should never be king. Clare was better suited for queen than was a bastard and she was a full-blooded daughter when a full-blooded son was born and still breathed. The Tullys and Riverlands would be another weak link for the Lannisters and Westerlands. Already Alaric and his own wife failed them, his wife proving again the queen she is by not attending. “What better is it for a bastard to take the Riverlands based off of a dead man's word? A formerly mad dead man's word?” he near wants to laugh. “You favor not an alliance, but a foe when you choose to put a bastard on your already cracking throne to weaken your kingdom and those they align with.”

GUINEVERE LANNISTER: Guinevere's head had been leaning in her cousin Calla's direction, the girls engaging in some talk regarding the members of noble society that had made themselves present for what they all silently prayed was the final curtain call on the Tully matter. The topic of conversation had also fallen onto a certain Lord Hightower; whom her cousin would soon find herself wed to, should all go smoothly and according to plan. She fell quiet however when she saw a distant head of auburn hair stand upon their feet, setting her cold glass of water down and looking briefly across the faces of the Tully chldren; they were to be the next generation of their neighbours, and she truly hoped the two regions would be able to secure a benefit from their close geographical proximity.

The words of Brynden Tully had caught her attention, the words drying from her throat as she sat and fully contemplated the consequences. Her two brothers seemed to move first, as they always did, though she remained in her seat. She didn't look over at the prince, whom she had discussed a deal with; though a trip to the wall had been left out before she approached the matter with the Lion King. She bit back her words on the tip of her tongue, words that would no doubt only add to the tension. All the benefits for trade with the Riverlands still stood, though their leadership was now firmly under question. Was it a risk worth taking? There had to be more, another promise, another bind to the alliance; her eyes fell over to the Tully women, one she had never seen before... “Can we not strengthen this partnership by adding to it?” she asked, glancing slightly at Tyrin, before looking over at Harry.

CALLA LEFFORD: The eldest of the Lefford children behaved as the courteous woman her mother had raised her to be, offering condolences to the newly orphaned sons and daughters of Grover Tully. A plentiful dinner was served for those in attendance and Calla found her place by her cousin’s side. At any given situation she chose Gwen’s company above anyone else’s, and that was especially true throughout this dreary matter. They chatted privately regarding Lord Hightower, the man she was bound to marry. The crippled knight, she’d called him when speaking to her mother. If anything, this event might serve as an excuse to begin seeing if there was more to the man than being crippled.

Calla did wonder how many of those present here truly mourned the passing of the old king and how many found themselves present due to some requirement of some kind. She took some sips of her wine and watched the chaos erupt between the Tullys after Brynden’s unexpected announcement. She schooled her expression into a composed, dignified one; though she couldn’t help but feel partially amused by the sheer stupidity of airing these sorts of matters in front of an audience. What credibility could be in a house that didn’t have its own affairs in order? “Pardon me, my lords,” she glanced towards Brynden and then to Cian, “It must be the wine causing some confusion,” she smiled politely. She was perfectly sober in spite of the goblet in her hand, a drink she nursed slowly while continuing to pay attention to those around her. She never got drunk in public events. “So, who’s to be called king after all this?”

CLARE TULLY: Clare took her seat next to Wylla, knowing full well she could trust the other with the underhanded comments she would surely be muttering to her all evening. The last thing she wanted to do was play the part of the mourning daughter of Grover Tully in front of the many Kings, Lords, and Ladies of Westeros. It felt like putting on a mask. It was feign. It was exhausting. Clare was tired of the pretending, but she assured herself this evening would be the last, and then gods willing she would have to speak of Grover Tully no more. She took a long sip of wine, her second glass already, a choice she'd likely come to regret, but the bold flavors of the liquid filled her with a courage she feared she couldn't muster on her own. Along with her siblings, she knew she'd make it through this night. That was, until Brynden spoke, shocking the entirety of the dinner party in one fell swoop.

At Mellara's comment about private matters, Clare gave a firm nod and spoke quietly back, “It should have been spoken of earlier.” Her voice was harsher than she intended, but her frustration was clearly not aimed at her sister. Clare closed her eyes, only a few seconds, composing herself, especially of the Tyrell King's comment, before sitting straighter, formulating an appropriate, diplomatic response in her mind.  “Trust is not earned over dinner, alliances are not forged strongly in just one generation. Your graces, my lords, my ladies, surely you will give the Riverlands a chance to prove your trust would not be earned in vain. We, together, plan to continue our father's vision for our Kingdom, as duty, honor, and family are the core values we all hold dearly. Many of you put your trust into Brynden, and perhaps our father before him, I implore you to trust his decision in this, or at the very least, open your mind to it.” It was important to her to leave options on the table, and she hoped that even if one at this table took her words to heart, it might make all the difference.

ARAYA FREY: The passing of her great uncle was bittersweet for most of the river lands who had seen first hand how the man had slowly lost his mind, to put it ever so bluntly. She sympathized with her cousins of course, because mad or not he was still their father. The woman also could not help but recall the passing of her own parents on this day, and it made the whole affair all that much unbearable. Thus her goblet wasn’t without wine from the moment it had first been filled. It was when Bryn made his announcement that she finally had reprieve from the looming grief, a distraction. Her gaze sought out her brothers curious to see how he was reacting to this news, and then Garrett though ever so fleetingly. “And here I was expecting a peaceful dinner. ” She muttered into her wine glass. Though anyone who knew her at all could guess at how dreadful the idea of peaceful anything was to her.

WYLLA TULLY: She was seeing red. Her younger brother had gone and decided a public dinner with their allies was the best time to bow out and throw them a stranger, their brother, to rip apart while he ducked away from the throne. She could understand why, with what grover had put his heir through and perhaps how unprepared he might feel... but now was not the time to tell everyone. Definitely not the time to tell his own family. It was the foreign royalty that kept her mostly contained, but anyone could see a fire in the Tully's eyes as she stood, kicking away her chair and snatching their father's legitimization to read herself. “As the only sibling with free access to our father in his last days, I can attest our father was more intent on causing chaos than he was on domestic affairs. This surprises even myself.” She made her voice carry through the hall, the tone cold as she read the paper. She knew the handwriting anywhere, and it was real. Giving it back to her brother with a burning look in her eye to him, she turned to the room. “Cian was raised among us as a brother until he reached majority and left to start his own life, your highnesses. Never was he a bastard. To call him such is an insult to each and every Tully in this room.” Her eyes pass over the Lannisters and Tyrells, begging for a challenge from them, begging for an insult that she could unleash on them for. “We as a family will settle this matter privately, but rest assured both of my brothers always have the good of the Riverlands and our friends at heart. For you are our friends.” It was all she allowed herself to say, for she could not bear to start more trouble for her family when the last of it was sinking in the rivers and feeding the fish. Turning to her brothers though, her voice was low and left little room for argument. “Sit. We mustn't let them smell the blood in the water from this.” Wylla then sat and scooped up her nephew, holding him close so she didn't strangle one of them.

GARRETT ERENFORD: The commander was shocked by the news as he supposed everyone else was. All this time he’d expected to serve Brynden. Not that he would be any less honorable in his service to Cian but- Seven hells, what had possessed his friend to make this announcement now? He figured that after all their years of camaraderie there would be trust and honesty between them. But then again, Brynden had clearly blindsided his siblings so why should he expect special treatment? He would try and get a moment’s privacy with his friend after all of this was over.

He caught Araya’s eyes on him, even if she looked at him only briefly. He was subtle in the gesture but he raised his glass to her in the trajectory of raising the drink to his lips.

ELYSE TULLY: Chaos threatened to unfold and… in a way, had already done so. Her family was in discrete shambles, a brother had kept things from the rest, a brother was horrified, all three of her sisters were infuriated and offended. The kings did not understand, they saw a bastard where the Tullys looked at a brother. His lack of sharing a mother meant nothing to them just as Clare’s did. They were siblings, through and through. No one, not the Lion King or the Thorn Regent would change that. Elyse nods as her twin mutters the fact that these are private affairs and as the conversation continues, Clare’s irritation floods her tone and Wylla’s fire is mirrored in oceanic hues… the youngest stands. She abruptly does so, suddenly feeling as though the air is thick and the spoken words of others adds to it.

“Pardon me.” Her digits unthread from Harrion’s, releasing his hand suddenly and moving to exit the room. The soft voice of the princess is not as hushed as she excuses herself, no glance spared to any of her siblings so as to avoid Wylla’s particular one. The princess furrows her brows as she rushes through the halls and out towards the garden, breathless. “Gods…” she mutters, hands lifting towards her lifted hair. The pins holding it up are removed, held in her grasp tightly as long fiery locks cascade down her back.

GARLAND HIGHTOWER: With the announcement made, Garland looked between Cedric and the Tully family, before wincing from his leg. It was a legitimate pain, as it was always slightly aching, but he let it play as worse than it was on his face. “I need to retire, your grace. My leg.” He says loud enough for the rest of the room before making a bit of a production of getting up and walking out, leaning heavy on his cane until no one could see. The books were already locked away, but this would set him at the very least on a long night of new maths and figures that he didn't exactly want to set out on yet again.

CALLA LEFFORD: It didn't go unnoticed by Calla that some attendees were beginning to step out now that some of the complicated matters had been spoken. She took a sip from her wine and set the goblet on the table. Her attention went to Ser Hightower as he excused himself, making it known that his injured leg was troubling him in some way. “The wine is getting to my head, I need some air,” she said towards her cousin. Her eyes darted briefly towards the now empty sear of the Hightower lord and then back to Gwen. A spoken excuse for the rest, a truthful explanation for her cousin. Calla barely knew the man she was to marry and this served as a perfect opportunity to learn more about the knight.