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newstfionline · 6 months

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Friday, December 8, 2023

As deaths and injuries mount, calls for technology to reduce speeding (NPR) More than 40,000 people died in vehicle crashes in the U.S. last year. Speeding was a major reason why. Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board, says speeding has become a public health crisis. Safety advocates want automakers to adopt technology to reduce speeding. Intelligent speed assistance technology can either notify drivers when they’re speeding without forcing them to slow down or prevent the car from exceeding the speed limit. The technology is widespread in Europe, where it’s set to become mandatory in all passenger cars next year. The U.S. has been slower to adopt this technology, adding it makes cars more expensive.

Bitcoin Mining Used More Water Than New York City Last Year (WSJ) Bitcoin-mining operations slurp up billions of gallons of water globally each year. Estimates vary, but the annual footprint is projected to surpass 591 billion gallons of water this year, according to an article published last week in the peer-reviewed journal Cell Reports Sustainability. For comparison, New York City residents and businesses consumed 403 billion gallons in 2022, according to the U.S. Geological Survey.

Americans abroad (Pew Research Center) About 23 percent of Americans have not travelled internationally, and 50 percent of Americans have travelled to other countries, but have visited four or fewer. This makes the U.S. something of an outlier among rich countries: While 26 percent of Americans have visited five or more countries, that lags the 43 percent of Canadians who have, and lags well behind Europe, where 42 percent of Spaniards, 47 percent of Italians, 54 percent of the French, 69 percent of the British, 70 percent of Germans and 83 percent of the Dutch have visited at least five or more countries.

Guyana’s president says his country is preparing to defend itself from Venezuela over disputed area (AP) Guyana’s president told The Associated Press on Wednesday that his country is taking every necessary step to protect itself from Venezuela, which has ordered its state-owned companies to explore and exploit oil and minerals in the vast Essequibo region, which Guyana considers its own. When asked if he has requested military assistance, President Irfaan Ali said his government is reaching out to allies and regional partners, some of which Guyana has defense agreements with, to protect Essequibo. The region makes up two-thirds of the country. Venezuela has the world’s largest proven oil reserves, but years of mismanagement and economic sanctions imposed by the U.S. against Maduro’s government have hurt PDVSA and subsidiaries.

U.S. and Sweden sign defense deal (AP) Sweden is eagerly shedding the last bits of its policy of neutrality. The Nordic country, which is set to join NATO soon, has signed a new defense agreement with the U.S. which will grant Washington access to all military bases in the nation. Pal Jonson, Sweden’s defense minister, said the agreement “will create better conditions for Sweden to be able to receive support from the United States in the event of a war or crisis.” That “crisis” being a certain global power to the east whose name begins with an “R.” Jonson told Swedish media that not “all 17 locations will be used,” only “where it is most important from a military perspective for them to be able to store defence equipment, for example.” One of Sweden’s most important strategic assets is the island of Gotland in the Baltic Sea, which is just 186 miles from Russia’s strategically important Baltic Coast city of Kaliningrad.

Political Frictions Unsettle Ukraine as It Seeks More Military Support (NYT) As Ukraine steps up efforts to press for more military support for its conflict with Russia, political frictions have emerged at a critical moment for the country. President Volodymyr Zelensky and the commander of Ukrainian forces, Gen. Valery Zaluzhny, have been at odds. The political frictions in Ukraine come as the country enters its second winter of full-scale war with Russia and the public braces for more attacks on cities and infrastructure, while its troops face grinding fighting on three fronts. General Zaluzhny, the commander of Ukrainian forces, wrote in a paper recently that the war was in a stalemate and would stay that way unless Ukraine received increased and more technologically sophisticated military equipment. Mr. Zelensky swiftly chastised the general and denied that the war was in a stalemate. Since then, rumors have abounded that General Zaluzhny would be replaced, leading politicians to criticize him. The attacks on General Zaluzhny, who is enormously popular within the armed forces, have led others to criticize the government and Mr. Zelensky’s administration, with complaints that the president interferes with military decisions and fires commanders without consulting with his military chief.

China’s paranoid purge (Politico) While the world is distracted by war in the Middle East and Ukraine, a Stalin-like purge is sweeping through China’s ultra-secretive political system. The signals emanating from Beijing are unmistakable, even as China’s security services have ramped up repression to totalitarian levels, making it almost impossible to know what is really happening inside the country…Since his reign began in 2012, Xi Jinping’s endless purges have removed millions of officials—from top-ranked Communist Party “tigers” down to lowly bureaucratic “flies,” to use Xi’s evocative terminology. What’s different today is that the officials being neutralized are not members of hostile political factions but loyalists from the inner ring of Xi’s own clique.

Mulletfest (Washington Post) Leah Jachmann watched anxiously as her son lined up onstage next to the other contestants. Jedrik was only 7 years old, but he’d spent most of his life preparing for this moment. An emcee handed him a microphone, and the boy quietly introduced himself. Then it was showtime. Jedrik turned to the side, revealing 18 inches of wavy locks that tumbled from the back of his head like a light brown waterfall. As the crowd cheered, Jedrik spun and shook his mane as if he were in a shampoo commercial. Welcome to Mulletfest, where Australia lets its hair down—and wholeheartedly embraces its bogan, or redneck, side. Australians, some too young to walk, competed in Mulletfest’s grand final this past weekend across a range of categories, including “extreme,” “grubby,” “everyday” and “ranga,” a derogatory Aussie nickname for a redhead. The mullet—short on the sides, long in the back—is not an Australian invention. But no society has embraced the mullet quite like Australia, where the cut enjoyed cult status in the 1980s. It made a comeback during the covid-19 pandemic, when Australians endured some of the world’s most restrictive lockdowns. The hairstyle, often dubbed “business in the front, party in the back,” was perfect for DIY cuts and endless Zoom calls.

U.N. chief invokes rare power to urge Security Council to address Gaza (Washington Post/Foreign Policy) U.N. Secretary General António Guterres on Wednesday invoked one of the few powers available to his office under the U.N. charter to urge the Security Council to “help avert a humanitarian catastrophe” and “appeal for a humanitarian ceasefire to be declared” in Gaza. Israeli Foreign Minister Eli Cohen said Guterres’s actions, and the call for a cease fire in Gaza, constitute support of Hamas. Guterres issued the call as Israeli forces penetrated deeper into the Gaza Strip, driving south in an incursion that marks the beginning of a new phase of the war. According to the Gaza Health Ministry, more than 17,100 Palestinians have been killed and 46,000 others wounded since the war began

My Gaza diary (Moustafa Ibrahim in Daraj) On the evening of the 57th day of the war, I was facing a situation that no one would envy. A friend from Jordan called to tell me her brother and his children, who had been displaced from Gaza City to Rafah, were injured by a bombing in the Al-Geneina neighborhood in eastern Rafah, where I now live. She wanted to check on them. As soon as she mentioned her brother’s name, I knew that he had been killed. I told her: “I will ask at the hospital, and will let you know.” At that moment I stopped thinking. What would I say to her? It is not easy to be the one who tells a friend their loved one is dead. The next day, the friend called back to say she’d found out her brother had been killed, and that his wife and children had been injured but were fine. She asked this time for help to search for her five-year-old nephew, who was missing and had not wound up at the hospital. After hours of searching, they found his body. He died too from the bombing. Since the end of the temporary ceasefire, the Israeli army has carried out some of its fiercest attacks across Gaza. During the past three days, individual homes have been bombed, with two missiles dropped on each targeted home to be sure it was fully destroyed. Total war continues, with the invader’s fiercest fight waged against life itself.

Gaza War Widens Gap Between Arab Rulers and Citizens (NYT) As the afternoon light softened, a man holding a megaphone stepped to the front of a crowd of about 200 people in the Bahraini capital, Manama, and began to shout at the top of his lungs. The demonstrators, waving Palestinian flags, repeated his words with gusto, imploring their American-allied authoritarian government to expel the Israeli ambassador who was appointed two years ago, after Bahrain established diplomatic ties with Israel. “No Zionist embassy on Bahraini land!” they chanted. “No American military bases on Bahraini land!” Less than four miles away, American and European men in full military regalia gathered for the Manama Dialogue, an annual conference that brings together senior officials from Western powers and the Middle East to discuss regional security. They milled about a gilded ballroom in the heavily guarded Ritz-Carlton hotel just hours after the protest—largely unaware that it had even occurred. The war in Gaza that followed the attack has not only laid bare a chasm between many Arab leaders and their people; it has widened it. While there has long been a disconnect between many Arab states and their citizens over their approach to the Palestinian cause, the war has brought that gap into the sharpest focus in years. At many protests across the region, people have gone beyond condemning Israel to chant in support of Hamas and to criticize their own governments.

The Global Credibility Gap (Foreign Policy/Opinion) After decades of relative geopolitical calm, the world has entered its most volatile and dangerous period since the depths of the Cold War. Despite U.S. President Joe Biden’s high-profile meeting with Chinese President Xi Jinping in San Francisco last month, relations between their two countries have deteriorated so sharply that a war between them, though unlikely, is no longer unthinkable. The COVID-19 pandemic unleashed political and economic shocks that continue to reverberate across the global system. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine plunged Europe into a destabilizing war with far-reaching consequences for trade and markets worldwide. And on Oct. 7, Hamas’s terror attacks against Israel sparked a new Middle East war that threatens to destroy years of progress. In our view, recent events are best understood as symptoms of a broader, metastasizing crisis in global politics: a crisis of credibility. As it becomes apparent that no one power is seen as both willing and able to single-handedly uphold the international order, and great powers refuse to cooperate to do the same, the international system itself is rapidly losing credibility. This global credibility gap, in turn, is compounding geopolitical instability and uncertainty as actors ranging from competitive and opportunistic states to terrorists and criminal elements take advantage of the political vacuum. Though hardly irreversible, it’s a trend that is likely to get worse before it gets better.

#headlines #news

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hobbyspacer · 1 year

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Videos: “Space to Ground” & other space habitat reports – May.2.2023

Here is the latest episode in NASA's Space to Ground weekly report on activities related to the International Space Station: https://youtu.be/LuPWd5jGsEM ** Canadarm dance | 4K timelapse - European Space Agency, ESA Timelapse video made during ESA astronaut Thomas Pesquet’s second mission to the International Space Station, “Alpha”. The camera is setup to take pictures at intervals of two a second, and the pictures are then edited into this video that plays at 25 pictures a second. The video is around 12 times faster than real speed. Thomas shared this video on social media saying: “We often mention robotics on the International Space Station but it doesn’t mean we are playing with robots. We have a 17--m-long, fully-articulated robotic arm on the outside, proudly built by the Canadian Space Agency. It is hugely important to our operations here: it grabs visiting vehicles, moves astronauts around during spacewalks, and does a lot of outside maintenance and logistics. It is always a fun (and to be honest, a bit tense because it’s not easy) moment when we get to fly it though our control panels and joysticks from the Cupola or the Lab (there are no windows there but we have lots of outside cameras).” Over 200 experiments are planned during Thomas’ time in space, with 40 European ones and 12 new experiments led by CNES. https://youtu.be/5sgH7NLjGzM ** Astronauts Prepare Station For Solar Array Upgrades - NASA Johnson On April 28, NASA astronaut Steve Bowen (EV1) and UAE (United Arab Emirates) astronaut Sultan Alneyadi (EV2) will conduct a spacewalk to continue installation of hardware to support future power system upgrades outside the International Space Station. This will be the 261st spacewalk in support of space station assembly, maintenance, and upgrades. It will be the eighth spacewalk for Bowen and the first for Alneyadi, also the first for any UAE astronaut. This computer-generated animation of the spacewalk is narrated by ISS Expedition 69 Spacewalk Officer Sandy Fletcher. https://youtu.be/xuXEv4tUkXQ ** See the 1st Arab astronaut to spacewalk and NASA crewmate work outside ISS - NASA Video UAE astronaut Sultan Al Neyadi became the 1st Arab astronaut to take a spacewalk as he and NASA astronaut Steve Bowen work outside the International Space Station on April 28, 2023. Learn more about Sultan Al Neyadi: https://www.space.com/sultan-al-neyad... The spacewalkers prepped the space station for a power upgrade. https://youtu.be/J9USJt5icqo ** Space-Grown Crystals Offer Clarity on Parkinson's Disease - ISS National Lab Apr 2, 2019: Parkinson’s disease affects more than 5 million people on Earth. Research on the International Space Station could provide insight into this chronic neurodegenerative disease and help scientists find ways to treat and prevent it. In this video, NASA astronaut Serena Auñon-Chancellor narrates as European Space Agency (ESA) astronaut Alexander Gerst uses a microscope to examine and photograph the LRRK2 crystals. Learn more about this research: https://go.nasa.gov/2FtsPiY See also Creating New and Better Drugs with Protein Crystal Growth Experiments | NASA - Apr.25.2023 https://youtu.be/6ILU7-945L8 ** Commercial space station company Gravitics CEO Colin Doughan - Becoming Off-Worldly Together Gravitics CEO Colin Doughan tells us about the future of commercial space stations and what it might look like to live and work in space on StarMax and future artificial gravity space stations. Want to attend our monthly guest webinars live as well as get exclusive access to monthly training webinars, weekly chats, and resources to get ready for your future spaceflight. We're a community of future astronaut hopefuls supporting each other on our paths to space. becomeoffworldly.com https://youtu.be/btuiMlMI2Po ** CMG Airs Exclusive Livestreaming of China's Tiangong Space Station on Space Day - CCTV Video News Agency In celebration of the eighth Space Day of China on Monday, the China Media Group (CMG) aired a four-hour exclusive livestreaming of China's Tiangong space station in conjunction with the China Manned Space Agency (CMSA). https://youtu.be/vIb1TNNyTG4 ** Live Video from the International Space Station (Official NASA Stream) - NASA Watch live video from the International Space Station, including inside views when the crew aboard the space station is on duty. Views of Earth are also streamed from an external camera located outside of the space station. During periods of signal loss due to handover between communications satellites, a blue screen is displayed. The space station orbits Earth about 250 miles (425 kilometers) above the surface. An international partnership of five space agencies from 15 countries operates the station, and it has been continuously occupied since November 2000. It's a microgravity laboratory where science, research, and human innovation make way for new technologies and research breakthroughs not possible on Earth. More: https://go.nasa.gov/3CkVtC8 Did you know you can spot the station without a telescope? It looks like a fast-moving star, but you have to know when to look up. Sign up for text messages or email alerts to let you know when (and where) to spot the station and wave to the crew: https://spotthestation.nasa.gov https://www.youtube.com/live/xAieE-QtOeM?feature=share ====

=== Amazon Ads === LEGO Ideas International Space Station Building Kit, Adult Set for Display, Makes a Great Birthday Present (864 Pieces) ==== Outpost in Orbit: A Pictorial & Verbal History of the Space Station Read the full article

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jacks-tracks · 1 year

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Norvo part 2

Living in a seniors village, news and germs travel fast. I'd heard that one man fell ill, then another,then it was me! Not Covid, though there have been 2 active cases lately, but a virus, presumed to be Norvo. We used to call it "tourista", the sudden illness typified by diarrhea,and vomiting. Norvo? Who knows. There' may be a test, but by the time the victim is able to travel to a clinic, the symptoms have (hopefully ) passed.

After a very pleasant day trip to Agua Blanca, I felt fine. Up to the terraza for sunset with the usual suspects, gossip and plans, when I felt a bit off. No one noticed my sudden departure, and I zipped down the stairs to my private toilet just in time for a rectal gush that left me dizzy. Well enough to stand up, lean over, and barf out a days worth of food, then repeat every hour. Why do these things happen at night/? No sleep, just a dazed doze, broken by the internal signal to get up and hit the can again. Light fever, squirts, and more vomit than seemed reasonable. By dawn I was totally empty, took an anti nauseant, and a double dose of anti diarrheal, and fell back in bed. Sudden , total and then over, this was a virulent virus that left me weak and fevered. An aspirin, and gulping oral rehydrants supplied by my considerate neighbours. Surely they heard the barf chorus all night, but were sympathetic anyway.

I,d estimate I lost 5 pounds and I do not reccomend the treatment. It meant a day in the hammock, some bed dozing, and pouring in liquids to counter the dehydration. Cause unknown, source , anywhere. Handling money, touching surfaces on the bus, bad food? No clue, but more likely the source was here at the hotel, given the sequential victims. Loaded up on vitamins and minerals, lots of salt on the little food i could tolerate, and more liquid intake. The fever passed in a day leaving me feeling weak and dazed. Off to Dr. Omar, that all round physician who does such a fine job. Of course I had to wait 45 minutes on the phone to get an insurance agent for medical coverage. Since I was still feeling pain and very weak, the Doc sent me for a full screen lab test, blood work, urine, fecal,. The great thing about Mexico is a very competent English speaking Doctor available at short notice, and cheap lab work and drugs In Canada I'd have waited a week or 2 just to see a doctor, and there,s no way I,d have gotten all the tests. Here i pay 400 pesos for an appointment which includes a physical as well as diagnosis, all well explained, then 2000 more for a full screen of tests. Less than $200 canadian dollars.

Results.. I,m normal! Haa! All the markers were well inside the ranges for my age, no infection,parasites, blood, or issues. My red blood cell count is up above normal, which is just fine and better than anemia. No Rhumatoid factors, but some inflammation. Doc scripted for an anti inflammatory, which I am taking. I was weak for several days, no beaching or morning walks, plenty of hammock time. What was heartening was the stream of well wishers who came by to check on me. this is a little village, and it very nice to have friends who care.

A week later and we went back to Agua Blanca. Early arrival, before any tourists, walked to the lagoon where the blue ducks are less skittish and a great variety of sandpiper stalk the brakish weedy shallows spearing the abundant tiny schooling fish, no crocodiles, not even tracks in the mangrove forest . The powerful onshore winds have changed the ocean currents, bringing up cold water. my friends did dip in the rocky pool, but reported chill and strong cross currents that threatened to sweep them out to sea. I'd forgotten my swim suit(and lunch) so was spared the squeal. Ate the cold scrambled eggs instead. It's 90 degrees out, how can they chill a plate of eggs between the kitchen and our table? See it as a fee for using the table and chairs under the palapa, 100 pesos. Snored in the hammock, gazed comfortably at the rolling sea and enjoyed the balmy breezes.

The snowbirds have begun flocking north, and in 2 weeks i'll be the last longstayer. Sad to lose the pleasant company of my southern friends, and we all plan to return next year. the weather in Canada remains winter, cold, snow showers, grey. To get my ass moving I'm going to take a 2 week trip, bussing up to Oaxaca for a few days of valley culture, maybe find a rug. For once I'll travel without my 40 pounds of luggage, as I can leave my big suitcase here with my garbage bucket of goodies for next year.Then a week in Mexico city for pyramids, art galleries, and excellent museums. I'll do lunch with Maru Pena who I met here with her boyfriend(85) Gordon. By then i''l be ready for a last beach week back in puerto. Flying from Huatulco to Van direct April 6 Westjet.

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kayla1993-world · 2 years

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Is your boss tracking you while you work? Some Canadians are about to find out

If you're spending more time on YouTube than on Excel during your workday, there's software that may be flagging you as "unproductive" and sending that activity to your boss. That's the new reality as remote work is on the rise, causing more employers to monitor employees to see if they're slacking off. Near downtown Toronto's Union Station, a major commuter hub, workers like Fariha Chowdhury say they would like to know if their actions are being monitored.

Mustafa Kobari says companies that turn to these software solutions could be heading down a slippery slope. "Where does it stop? It's a little bit worrying." Some Canadian workers will now learn whether they're being tracked. Starting on Tuesday, Ontario employers with 25 or more employees will be required to have an electronic monitoring policy, and they have 30 days to disclose the information to staff.

It's part of the Working for Workers Act, and it makes the province the only one in Canada with legislation on employee monitoring. Quebec, Alberta, and British Columbia require employers to disclose data collection under privacy laws.

As the COVID-19 pandemic led to lockdowns and forced employees to work from home in droves, many employers implemented electronic monitoring systems without alerting their staff, said Mackenzie Irwin, an employment lawyer at Samfiru Tumarkin LLP in Toronto. The Ontario legislation applies to all employees using company-issued devices, whether the employer is tracking the GPS of a delivery truck driver or the emails of an office worker.

Irwin said the new rules are a good first step toward transparency. "Once we know what they are actually doing, then we'll have a better sense of whether those monitoring systems are breaching any other legislation."

But she said there is more work to be done because the legislation doesn't actually give employees any new rights to privacy or do much to discourage employers from overly intrusive monitoring. Still, Irwin said she expects employees to take a stand if they feel uncomfortable once they find out how much they are being monitored.

While it's difficult to nail down just how many companies are using employee tracking software, workplace surveillance "accelerated and expanded" in Canada during the pandemic, according to a report from the Cybersecure Policy Exchange at Toronto Metropolitan University. Tech firms like Time Doctor, Hubstaff, and Teramind are just a few that are seeing a growing demand for their monitoring software, which records keystrokes, listens back to phone calls, and even takes screenshots every 10 minutes.

Eli Sutton, vice president of global operations at U.S.-based Teramind, said his customers range from law firms and telecom companies to the government and the healthcare sector. In Canada, the company currently has about 300 active customers, and another 150 have signed up for a trial.

Sutton said his employer clients want to monitor employees for security reasons to prevent information from leaving the organization and for productivity reasons, as a way to understand how employees are spending their time when they're working remotely.

But Sutton agrees that it's up to employers to set boundaries to use technology effectively and not just focus on one employee's actions. "You definitely don't want to use it in the form of micromanagement. It's more about the end goal, not so much what they're doing every second of the day."

Some critics of employee monitoring software say it's actually not an accurate representation of employee performance because it doesn't capture other work that may be helpful to employers, such as talking to colleagues and mentoring co-workers.

If employees worry about being tracked, they may start rejecting those activities to protect their productivity, said Valerio De Stefano, a professor and Canada Research Chair in Innovation, Law and Society at Osgoode Hall Law School in Toronto.

He said companies could fare better by assessing workers based on output rather than on the time they spend on activities that the computer marks as work. Otherwise, employee monitoring software can often end up being counterproductive, De Stefano said.

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enrichedacademy · 2 years

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Financial Mistakes to Avoid in Today's Economy

You don’t need much of a financial education to understand that 2022 has been nothing but bad news for most Canadians and our financial future may not improve anytime soon. Our stock portfolios are worth a lot less, everything we buy costs more, and interest rates are making our mortgages and other loans a lot more expensive. More than ever it is time to tread carefully and avoid any financial mistakes, so we gathered up the top five missteps you definitely want to steer clear of for the rest of this year and beyond!

1. Not having any system to track your expenses. “I don’t know where my money goes” is a common refrain as prices continue to rise. However, given the number of mobile applications, web programs and other online tools available to simplify this task (or just use a pencil!), there isn’t any excuse. Regardless of how much income you have coming in, monitoring and controlling expenses is critical as plenty of high-earning-now-bankrupt athletes and actors have proven.

2. Not understanding your loan agreements. It is shocking to see how many people fail to understand the terms and conditions before entering into potentially life-changing contracts like a mortgage or student loan. Don’t assume it will be easy to pay off student loans after you graduate and (hopefully) land a well-paying job. Student loans do not have a particularly low interest rate and you might be unpleasantly surprised by the amount of your monthly payment post-graduation, and how many years you will be paying!

Mortgages can be complicated, but that’s no excuse and a good mortgage broker will take the time to answer all of your questions. Trigger rates have recently been in the news and are a good example of people not understanding what they signed.

3. Not saving and investing. As higher prices and interest rates suck up more of our disposable cash, something has to give, and putting a little bit of money away each month may be on the chopping block. If you need the money for essentials like food or rent, then you have no choice but be honest with yourself on what is essential! Once you break the saving habit it’s hard to get it back and saving is not really a discretionary expense unless you have an alternative plan to fund your retirement? Catching up on savings might be possible when things get better, but that could be years and the earlier you start, the more your savings are going to grow.

4. Paying too much in investment fees. Not investing at all is a fatal mistake, but unknowingly paying exorbitant fees on your investments is also a critical error. Canada has some of the highest investment fees in the developed world and it isn’t easy to determine the fees built into your investments and how much your advisor is charging you for their services. Mutual funds are notorious for high, built-in MER fees (management expense ratio) that often exceed 2% annually and can rob tens of thousands of dollars over the years from your retirement fund. Make sure to fully investigate the fees you are paying on your investments and ensure they are justified by the returns. You may also want to consider a fee-based financial planner rather than a commission-based financial advisor. There are a few factors to consider, and it depends on the size of your portfolio, but fee-based advisors have a strong fiduciary duty to grow your wealth and not just sell you financial products.

5. Investing before paying off debt. The question of whether it’s better to invest any “extra” cash or pay down debt needs a re-think given recent economic changes. In 2021, mortgages and lines of credit could be had for around 2% and most stock indexes reported double-digit gains. Paying down debt with money you could have invested in the markets was not the best option.

A year later, borrowing rates have doubled in many cases (mortgages for example) and financial markets are wobbly at best, with many deep into the red year to date. These aren't the only factors to consider, and you need to do the math for your situation, but the case for paying down debt is getting stronger by the day.

As financial educators we are very biased, but Enriched Academy truly believes that improving your own financial literacy is the best defense for avoiding financial mistakes, regardless of how many advisors you may have. Not only will you feel more comfortable with what your advisor is doing on your behalf, you will also be able to make your own informed decisions when you want to be in control.

#financial educators #pay off student loans #financial education #fee-based financial planner

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skymaiden32 · 2 years

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Perils of an Explorer

The Thunderbirds Calendar for 2022 has a lot of stories you can expand on, one for each month. This one is January's.

Famed explorer Edworth Harte’s yacht gets caught in a cyclone, sending him crashing through heavy waves. Scott tries to locate Harte using Thunderbird 1’s powerful searchlight to pierce the inky black night before the yacht capsizes.

Original series.

Tagging: @thundergeek59 (Don't be afraid if you want to ask to be added)

Captain Tara Summers grumbled as she took a quick glance over the sensitive instruments on her bridge. Her first mate, Otis Akers, a usually happy silver-haired fellow, also had a very serious look on his face. The yacht was bobbing up and down on increasingly ferocious waves; a clear sign of an incoming storm. The blonde-haired Captain turned to her right-hand man, calm despite the fear behind her eyes. She spoke with a heavy Irish accent and was proud of it.

“Otis, take the helm.” She stepped back from the steering wheel, allowing the first-mate to take her spot. “I’d better go and tell Mr Harte know that we’ve got some rough weather on the way.”

Otis hummed, stroking his beard as he did so. He too had a heavy accent, although he hailed from Wales. “He won’t be too happy about that.” He returned his full attention to keeping the ship steady in the harsh waves. “He wants to get to Auckland before tomorrow afternoon.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s gonna have to wait a little longer, then. It’s cyclone season and we can’t be too careful.” She walked out the bridge. “I know exploring the Auckland Rainforests means a lot to him, but he’s a big boy. He can handle being a bit late.”

She made her way down to the main deck, where her employer stood over the side of the rail, watching a pod of orcas a few meters away to port. Mr Edworth Harte was an explorer, an extremely skilled one at that. The Canadian was one of the best in the world and was famed for taking risks. Captain Summers prayed to whatever higher power might be out there that this was a risk he wouldn’t take, but she and Otis knew him too well to truly believe that.

“Magnificent! They never cease to amaze me…”

“Mr Harte!” She interrupted, eager to get this over with. He spun around, a big grin on his face.

“Ah, Captain! Come out to see the orcas too?” The woman shook her head.

“No, I’m afraid not, sir. We’ve just received a weather report from Lima. There’s a storm coming…” He raised an eyebrow.

“And? What do you want me to do about it?”

She cleared her throat. It was now or never. “We need to dock somewhere. Anywhere, really. At the moment, they doubt anything serious will happen, but it’s cyclone season, so it could take a turn for the worst if we aren’t careful.”

The man looked thoughtful for a minute, weighing up his options. He was eager to get to their destination, of course. There had been a new cave discovered in the Auckland Rainforests that he wanted to look at for himself. It was very true that he took risks. But that was only when it was only his life. He was uncomfortable with risking the life of his crew, especially if Captain Summers seemed so troubled about it. He may make a living off of this sort of thing, but she knew the sea much better than he did…

“Alright, Captain. You know I trust your judgement.” He frowned. “But where on Earth are we going to dock? The closest port is Auckland isn’t it?”

“It is.” The Captain hummed. “There’s an archipelago about 30 klicks to the east. One of the islands may be inhabited and even if it isn’t, it’s better for the yacht to be in shallow water, which the islands would provide.” Her boss nodded in agreement.

“Alright. Better radio around, we should be in range for any inhabitants to hear us.”

Tara nodded, and then made her way back to the bridge, hoping that the islands were inhabited.

Elsewhere in the Pacific, about 30 klicks east from the yacht of the famous explorer and his crew, Jeff Tracy was just finishing his fifth cup of coffee of the day, stressed beyond belief. His sons had just gotten home from a hurricane rescue in Florida, and he was eager to hear the mission report from them. He always got a little worried about what could have happened to them that he wasn’t there to see, or they kept hidden from both himself and Scott, who outside of his regular duties as the eldest, was International Rescue’s Field Commander.

Sure enough, just as the thought of Scott crossed his mind, he appeared, Virgil and Alan close behind him. The three of them had been soaked when they hobbled inside, much to their Grandmother’s chagrin, and sort of huddled together until they had been dismissed from the lounge, their very worried father wanting them to warm up as soon as possible. They certainly looked warm now; Alan had even dragged in his comforter, which was pretty much ignored. Virgil had two cups of hot chocolate in hand, discreetly trying to give one to his immediate older brother, which Scott gladly took in the hand that was devoid of any papers.

Gordon looked up from his game of chess with Brains to watch the debrief, a big grin on his face. Brains sat straighter, also paying attention to the group of men in front of them. Jeff nodded to Scott, urging him to start.

“Hurricane Zelda made landfall on Wednesday, as a category 5 and was recognised even in its early stages of being one of the strongest since Arthur ten years ago. Thankfully, the majority of inhabitants were able to evacuate in time, but others were not so lucky…” He paused to cough before continuing. “Initial rescue efforts saved upwards of 200 people, but they needed a few extra hands to get to the most difficult spots, which is where IR came in.” He coughed again, more violent this time. Jeff frowned, concern skyrocketing. Gordon had a matching look on his face, and looked ready to stand up to assist at any given moment. Virgil and Alan moved a bit closer, but he brushed them off. “I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. Jeff was doubtful, but hesitantly let him continue. Thankfully, there were only a couple more points. “Final toll is 14 deaths, and the number of injuries, no matter how severe, are in the three hundreds.” He broke into another coughing fit, and this time Virgil was quick enough to move him to the couch. “Seriously, Virgil. I’m fine.”

Virgil smiled, deceptively sweet. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He gently felt Scott’s forehead. “No, not fine. You’ve got a fever. To bed with you.” Scott looked about ready to argue. “Me and Al can finish the report.” That seemed to placate him, but only slightly. He nodded to Gordon, who was helping their brother to his feet.

The aquanaut steered an increasingly delirious Scott in the direction of his room. “Come on, Scooter.” Jeff stared worriedly after them, then looked at an equally concerned Virgil, who was happy to explain.

The second son sounded tired all of a sudden. “There was a particularly bad cold circulating around the Danger Zone, and the cold and heavy rain certainly didn’t help matters. Chances are that’s what he’s got.” Jeff hummed and turned his attention to his youngest son, who was wrapped tightly in his comforter and looked almost as pale as Scott did just before he left the room, although the patriarch suspected it was just the shock.

“Alright boys, I think we’ll hold it there. I want both of you to rest for a bit; you might have picked it up as well. Let me know if you have.” The two boys nodded and left the room. Flashing across the room alerted the father to another conversation to have with one of his children.

Jeff sighed as he opened up the link with John, his middle child, up on the organisation’s satellite some 22,400 miles above them. “Go ahead, John.”

“Update from Florida, Father. They’ve cleared all the debris. There was no one else to get to. Everyone’s been accounted for.” Jeff nodded, but his mind remained elsewhere.

“Good. Thanks, John.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff noticed John giving him a sideways look.

“Are you alright, Dad?”

Jeff smiled gently at the blond on the screen. The image itself was close enough for him to touch, but his son wasn’t. “I’m just fine. It’s your brothers I’m worried about. Scott’s picked something up from the Danger Zone, and Virgil and Alan looked a bit peaky as well.” John’s face got paler as his father continued.

“Are they okay?”

“They’ll be just fine, my little star.” It was an old nickname, but it did its job, and the space monitor visibly relaxed.

“Okay, Dad. Let me know if anything happens.” With that, he signed off, leaving the father of five to slump in his chair. Brains hummed in the background, clearly having something to say. Jeff stood to attention.

“Brains?” The scientist looked at him seriously.

“T-There’s a weather w-warning out, Mr T-Tracy. I-I suggest we p-prepare for a c-cyclone.” Jeff sighed. No rest for the wicked.

“Alright, send an alert out to the rest of the household, and activate severe storm protocols. Make sure nothing floods.” He would’ve said something else, but the comm behind him started flashing, an Irish voice cutting through the sound of the increasingly violent waves.

“This is the Oarfish requesting permission to dock. Repeat, Oarfish requesting permission to dock.” Jeff turned to Brains.

“T-The closest p-port is Auckland, M-Mr Tracy. I-If we turn t-them down, they’ll n-never get there b-b-before the storm hits.” The older man nodded in agreement.

“Brains, activate Operation Cover-Up!” As the genius did so, Jeff opened up the comms to speak with who the patriarch assumed was the Captain. “This is Jeff Tracy. May I ask who you are?”

There was a stunned silence on the bridge of the ship. “T-The Jeff Tracy? Of Tracy Industries?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

The Captain seemed to snap out of it. “Sorry. Tara Summers, Captain of the Oarfish. I have my first-mate Otis Akers with me at the helm. The yacht belongs to an Edworth Harte, who is also on board.” Jeff’s eyes widened, recognising the name.

“The explorer?”

“Yes, sir. We’re requesting a place to dock until the storm passes.” She explained. “We’re about 15 klicks from your approximated position.”

The patriarch hummed, before making a decision. “You have permission to dock. We don’t get many visitors.” He smiled at that. “And I’m sure my mother will be thrilled to have some extra company.” The Captain chuckled on the other end. Jeff frowned. “Although I must warn all of you. My eldest son returned from Florida a few hours ago, managed to get out before the hurricane hit, and he’s picked up some sort of bug.”

Summers grinned on the other end of the line. “I’m sure we can live with that. Is he alright?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Captain.” Jeff picked up a map of the surrounding islands. “We’re on the largest island. The dock is on the south side. I’ll meet you there with one of my sons.”

“Thank you, Mr Tracy. We look forward to meeting you.” The call disconnected, leaving the stunned Jeff with nothing left to do but stand and go to find Gordon. This would be interesting…

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderfam #jeff tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #grandma tracy #brains thunderbirds #edworth harte #captain tara summers #otis akers #thunderbirds ocs #hope you enjoy #thunderbirds calendar 2022 project

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crashdevlin · 3 years

Text

Leftoverture 3- Carry On

Author’s Note: Don’t get me wrong, I loved the finale, but I was thinking about how much I miss Dean and I couldn’t stop thinking about ways I could have him back so…I’m going canon divergent while being as close to canon as possible. ‘Cause that’s how Cassie do. This is where Leftoverture officially crosses over with Crash Into Me!

Summary: Sam tries to convince Dean to talk to his widow, but it takes a visit from an old friend to get him to do the right thing.

Pairing: Dean x OFC

Word count: 3755

Story Warnings: angst, Post-barn scene sads, mentions of major character deaths (Dean and AU!Sam), mentions of depression, memory fuckery,

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

“Hey, get off the phone. Who are you texting?” Dean asked, looking over at Sam’s thumbs tapping out a message.

“I’m...just letting some people know that you’re back, okay? What?” Sam defended, pulling his phone out of Dean’s reach as his brother tried to grab it.

“She better not be part of that group text, Sam. I will kick your lanky ass.”

“Dean, come on.”

“She has mourned me! She’s probably just starting to get okay and you want me to break that? Not to mention the kid. How are we supposed to explain to her that I’m just suddenly not dead anymore?” Dean pulled over onto the shoulder and glared at Sam until he rolled his eyes and sighed, hitting the X to take his sister-in-law’s number away from the list that included Bobby 2.0, Jody, Donna, Charlie 2.0, and Garth. “Thank you.”

“It’s only been a month. You think she’s starting to get over you already?” Sam finished tapping out his text as Dean pulled back onto the interstate.

“I think I’m a threat to her life as long as I’m in her life, man. I mean, that’s why it took us so long to get together in the first place, because I knew that me being a hunter was gonna put her in the ground and it was just lucky for all of us that it put me in the ground before her.”

“Don’t say th-”

“It’s better for her to think I’m still dead!” Dean exploded. “If she knows I’m alive, she’ll come back to the bunker and she’s gonna end up dead and that’ll be on me! Okay, it’s better if she thinks I’m dead and we keep it that way!”

“So, I guess you’ve made up your mind on this one?” Sam asked.

“Yes!” Dean nodded, somehow still keeping his eyes on the road. “You know what, yes, I’ve made up my mind. Because she deserves to live a life that I’m not ruining. She never wanted the job to encroach on her life, or Rebel’s, okay? Fuck, if I ended up getting that little girl hurt, I could nev--and you know she only agreed to marry me in the first place because Chuck was gonna kill us all anyway and he’s not a problem anymore and what happened to my ring when I bit it? You didn’t burn it with me, did you, because that was a really good silver ring and if you melted it with me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Sam shook his head in disappointment. “Your wife was wearing it on her thumb last time I saw it.”

Dean sighed and licked his lips. “It’s better this way, Sam. I know you don’t see it, but it’s better.”

“Right. You, uh, you remember when you guys were ‘just friends’ and she started dating that asshole that didn’t know what ‘no’ meant?” Dean’s jaw clenched tight at the memory. “You remember how pissed off you got that she was dating someone, let alone a Dom dickbag like him, and how you spent the entire weekend trying to get dirt on him to use to get her to dump him?”

"He was tryin' to put things in her while she was drunk! He deserved a bullet through the skull for that shit and he's lucky she wouldn't let me go talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. He was a piece of shit, but you didn't know that when we got there. You just didn’t like him because he was dating her."

"I'm a good judge of character and she is not. She dates douchebags. She always has. I mean, look at her cheating son-of-a-bitch ex-husband. If she's dating them, they're douchebags."

Sam rolled his eyes, obviously catching Dean’s self-deprecating undertone in that sentence. "Okay, but you're just gonna let her date someone else? You're gonna let her find some other douchebag to date that you won't be able to save her from?"

"I didn't save her from Mike or Drew. She was already half out the door on both of them before I interceded with either. And I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work." Dean pointed his finger in Sam’s face. "You're not gonna get me all jealous so I go find her because I'm afraid of her getting over me and moving on. I want her to move on. I want her to have a good life. That's the whole point here, man."

"Dean, she's not going to move on. She's gonna be devastated the rest of her life because you aren't-"

"So, we should make it worse by putting her through it twice?!" Dean snapped. "We should make her have to watch me burn another time, right? We should make her clear her shit out of the Bunker in a few years too? We should make her live with the hope that one day I'll manage to make it home again? We should put her heart back together just to shatter it into pieces again when I die permanently? Fuck you, Sam. I can't do it to her. I just...no."

Sam took a deep breath and shook his head sadly. "Fine."

"It's better this way. It's just better."

"Sure. It’s better.”

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

There was something cleansing about a simple werewolf hunt. Sam was being a little overbearing, but Dean understood why. Sam didn’t want to see him die anymore than he wanted to die again. There were only two wolves and they went down easy. It was a textbook hunt...just like the vampire cult should have been.

Sam shook away memories of the night in the barn and followed an energized Dean out to the Impala. It wouldn’t happen again. Not anytime soon. Dean was around to stay. Sam would make sure of it.

“So, hit the motel, pizza and beer, head back to the bunker in the morning. Did you report my death to the fire department because I’m still wanting that job and I’ll have to think of one hell of an excuse if you told them I died.” Dean shrugged, continuing before Sam could respond. “I’m gonna need to come up with an excuse either way, but an excuse for a month of radio silence is easier than an excuse for comin’ out of the Lazarus Pit, ya know?”

“I...didn’t say anything to them, Dean. It was really low on my list of priorities to tell the Lebanon Volunteer Fire Department that Dean Campbell was dead.”

“Awesome. I’ll figure out what to tell them. For now...pizza.”

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

“No, I know, it was a crazy situation, but I honestly think getting lost in the Yukon without a cell phone was probably the best thing that could have happened to me." Dean laughed into the phone as he walked into the library. "Yeah, exactly. Never gonna take a warm, dry bed for granted again. Well, thank you so much for understanding, Captain. I'm excited to get training. That's gonna be...yeah, I'm gonna be there. Thanks again."

Dean smiled as he tucked his phone into his pocket. "He bought it. Thanks for putting those fake Canadian news pieces up. Appreciate it."

"Okay, but what if someone else searches your fake name, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You think she's Googling me?" He stepped forward and looked down at Sam sitting at the library table. "She Googles me and she'll find a story about a man named Dean Campbell getting lost in the Yukon and surviving on moose and wolverine and melted snow. No pic, no identifying words. She'll look at it, say 'It is a miracle this guy survived' and then she'll move on to the next search result, okay? I don't understand why you're all up in my business about this but-"

"You don't miss them?" Sam asked, pushing his hair out of his face and leaning forward.

Dean bit his lip and shook his head. "No, I do not."

Sam stood and looked down into his brother's eyes. "Well, I do."

"Well, they're staying gone." Dean patted his brother's shoulder and walked toward the hall. "Good talk."

He sat on the edge of his bed and ran his hand down his face. Of course he missed her. Of course he missed the little girl he treated as his own daughter...or...the other Dean treated like a daughter. It was just too difficult. Explaining to his wife was one thing, an easy thing. She’d come back in a heartbeat and it would all be fine between them. She wouldn’t care that he wasn’t exactly the same in body, that he had different scars and a slightly different pattern of freckles or that his hair wasn’t quite right even after trying to make it work for four damn days.

She fell for him because of how he treated her, how safe she felt with him, how he made her feel. All of that was in the memories. How he felt about her was in the memories, too. He loved her in a way he'd never been able to let himself love anyone else. She was so much different than any other woman he'd considered making a life with because she was like all the best parts of them all mixed together. She was smart like Cassie Robinson, badass like Jo Harvelle, understanding of the Life without being part of it...with a kid, just like Lisa. He remembered that...and he knew that he'd never find another woman like her.

That was okay. He didn't really want another one: another woman, partner, wife. He couldn’t see himself opening up like that to someone other than his short little badass. And Sam was right that he didn't really want her with someone else, either...but she deserved it. She deserved to get over him and move on to greener pastures. So he had to stay away. For her good, he had to stay dead.

For the good of the little girl, too. If he just came back from the dead, it would completely fuck that little girl's understanding of life and death. It would fuck her up for life.

Dean sighed, picking up his phone and kissing his lock screen; the picture they took on the beach for their honeymoon. He held the phone over his heart for a minute and lied back, staring at the ceiling until sleep took him.

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

Dean smiled as he sat in a folding chair on the side of a soccer field, watching a short blonde girl dribble a ball between her feet on the green grass. "She's gettin' good," he commented to himself.

"She missed tryouts this year," a familiar voice said. Dean gasped a little as he turned in his seat to look at the angel in the beige trenchcoat. "They moved back to Florida too late for her to be placed on a team."

"Cas? Are you--is this--this is a dream."

"Yes. But...my presence is not." Castiel smiled as Dean stood and wrapped him in a hug. "Jack saved me from the Cosmic Entity from the Empty. We've been improving Heaven."

Dean pulled back and sniffled as he slapped a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Man, where have you been, then? We've missed you."

"Angels stay in Heaven now. Jack and I thought it was best to keep our interference to a minimum." Cas chuckled. "I'm not technically supposed to be here now."

Dean licked his lips. "Well, then...what's with the, uh, Freddy Krueger you're pulling?"

"Dean requested it. He knows what's been happening on Earth, that you've taken on his memories and essentially become him, and he knows that you are avoiding Cassie."

Dean scoffed and stepped back from the angel. "I'm sure he's got an opinion on all this."

"He does. He has a strong opinion on what you're doing and what you should be doing." Castiel stepped closer. "He told me to tell you to get your head out of your ass. He said that, if you have his memories, you're in love with her too and you need to go to her. He knows you couldn’t live with losing her forever...so don't lose her."

"Cas, she's better off without me."

"Is she?" the angel challenged. "Because she’s Dean Winchester’s widow. Doesn't that put a target on her back?"

Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line and looked away. She could handle it...right? "She's got protections...and we taught her to fight. She's gonna be fine."

"Dean told me to tell you that if you don't get in his car and drive to Florida, he's going to 'rip your pansy lungs out'," Cas said, doing air quotes. Dean scoffed. "He was very adamant that you go to her."

"Fine. But it's gonna hurt her. I'm gonna hurt her." Dean was absolutely serious but Cas just smiled and shook his head a little. "Hey, uh, Cas? Before you go...I'm...I'm not gonna get to see you again, right? So, don't you think we should talk about-"

"I think that would be a bit redundant." Castiel’s smile brightened, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "Dean and I have spoken at length about my sacrifice and the words spoken before Billie and I were taken to the Empty."

"And?"

"And Dean Winchester’s Heaven is full of people who love and cherish him...who see him for the hero he is. He never believes he's going to hurt any of them. You should learn from his example."

"DEAN! Look!" Dean looked behind him to see the girl kick the soccer ball at the goal. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.

"Great job, Youngblood!" he shouted before turning back around. The angel was gone.

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

Dean smiled tightly at Sam as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. “So, uh...I’m gonna take a few days...drive down to Florida.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah...Castiel came to me in a dream last night. Said the original me is up there in Heaven and he’s very unhappy with my choice.”

“Really?” Sam was obviously amused.

“Yeah. I don’t know if it was really him or not. Maybe it was just my brain kickin’ me in the ass but...I’m gonna go get ‘em back.”

“Thank you. I was hoping you’d come to your senses.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway...I’ll be back in a couple days. I’ve got training on Monday so...it’ll be a short trip. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t but…” He shrugged. “Don’t know ‘til I go talk to her.”

“Good luck, man.”

Dean nodded before heading to the garage. He had plenty of time to get nervous as he drove toward his in-laws’ house in North Florida. A month wasn’t too long. She’d gone longer without him in the past, but...he was alive back then. She knew he’d be back eventually.

He parked the Impala down the street. He wanted to see her before he talked to her. He needed to see how she was working through his death...if she even needed him. Dead Dean told him to go, but if she was moving on, he’d just get back in the car.

She was on the porch when he arrived, coming around the neighbor’s house to hide in the shadows around the side of her parent’s house. “It’s still hard. I don’t think it’s ever not gonna be hard. I still keep wanting to hear that damn Impala coming down the road. But even if I did hear it...I know it’d be Sam.” Dean bit his bottom lip. She was still mourning him. “I don’t know, Manda, but Erik has been a godsend.” His eyebrows went up. Who the fuck is Erik? Did she move on already? “He’s the only reason I get out of bed most mornings. He’s been helping a lot with Aria, driving her to school in the morning and making breakfast. Oh, he makes the best pancakes.” She gave a small chuckle. “Not that I need pancakes. I’ve put on, like, fifteen pounds since he died. Yeah, that is a lot. Erik doesn’t think so either...and Dean wouldn’t care...but I care”

Dean watched her shrug before shaking her head. “I don’t know. He seems nice but...my parents didn’t even know Dean and I got married, so of course Erik doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand...but he’s helping anyway.” She sighed and hummed a little into the air, staring up at the moon. “It’s still just really hard.”

Dean watched as she finished her phone call to her best friend and kept looking up into the night sky. He had to force himself to step around the side of the house and toward her. “Who’s Erik?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think to ask. Green eyes behind thick, dark glasses went wide as she turned to look at him.

“Dean?” she squeaked.

“Mostly,” he whispered as she threw her phone to skim across the grass and launched herself at him. He closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, overwhelmed by the feel of her warmth against him. “Come on, Crash, I taught you better than this. Where’s your silver and holy water, baby?”

“Inside,” she sobbed out into his chest. “But I know you’re you. I can feel it.”

He pressed his lips to her hair and took a step back, leaning down a bit to look directly into her eyes. “I am me, but I’m also...I’m also not. Can we...can we take a walk?”

“Of course!” she agreed, sniffling and wiping at her eyes under her glasses.

They started to walk out of the yard onto the street. “Okay, but before I get into my whole thing...who the fuck is Erik?”

“Oh, he’s a maintenance guy, works with my dad. When I moved to the Bunker, Erik rented my room.”

Dean nodded, his lips pursed. “So, he’s your parents’ tenant and you’re letting him take your daughter to school?”

“My parents trust him...I trust him.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and shrugged. “He’s a nice guy...and he’s a writer, too. He was shocked by the number of notebooks I have. He used to do all of his writing on his computer, but he’s started writing in notebooks since I showed him the versatility of handwriting a story. He said it was like going back to simpler times.”

“Okay. I guess...so, he’s just…”

“He’s just a guy that lives at the house.” She looked over at him as he jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “So, how are you back? Sam burned you. You shouldn’t be back.”

“You remember when Chuck was destroying the other universes and the other versions of me and Sam showed up? They were fleeing their world.”

“I remember. Sam wouldn’t take his hair down.”

“Right, well...um…” He cleared his throat. “Couple weeks ago, Man-bun Sam died in South America. Werewolves...and Dean couldn’t take it and he did a full wipe of his memories so that he wouldn’t have to remember and Sam went to Rowena to get her to fix it. Her version of fixing it was to give him, give me, your husband’s memories.”

“So, you’re-” She stopped in the middle of the street and turned to look at him. “You’re not my Dean?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got all of his memories. I’ve got all of his love.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Slightly different body...and a different soul. Your Dean is in Heaven. But I’m just like him. I’m exactly like him, Crash.”

She swallowed and searched his face for a few moments before she looked away. “The day we met...why was I crying?”

She was quizzing him, testing his memories, seeing how much like her husband he really was. “Mike left you,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t the first time...or the last. Rebel was about...two years old and you were tryin’ to hold yourself together. We shared some beer and talked about the monster Sam and I put down...and you gave me your number.”

“You, uh, you had a tattoo that I designed...it burned so you don’t have it now, but what-”

“I’ll get the rune again,” he interrupted. “So you can astral to me again.”

“Oh, it is you,” she whispered.

“It is me.” He wrapped her in a hug again and she grabbed at his jacket to hold him to her. “I don’t know how to go about this, though. How are we gonna explain to the kid that-”

“I-I don’t know.” She pulled back and shook her head. “I don’t know if she even caught on to the fact that you were dead...all I said was ‘gone’. I just said you were gone.”

That might make it easier. “Is she back at the house?”

“No. She’s with her father. It’s just Erik and my parents at the house right now.”

“Do your parents know I died? I’m just trying to determine if we can go in or if I’m sleeping in the car tonight.” He smiled at her as she sighed and looked away.

“I told them you broke up with me.”

“So, can I come inside?”

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch...unless you wanna sleep on the floor in Aria’s room. I’ve been sleeping with her on her loft bed since Erik has my old room and bed and all that.”

He smiled and headed toward the house, her hand in his. “She still have that big pile of stuffed animals under the loft?” She nodded and he smirked. “Then I’ll sleep in her zoo.”

She led him into the house and started up the stairs. They were halfway up the stairs when the door to the room that used to be hers opened. “Cass?” a voice asked. Dean stopped in his tracks.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, Erik.”

“It’s okay. I was just worried when you didn’t come back in. Are you-” Shadows fell over Dean and Crash as a figure stepped to the top of the stairs. “Oh, shit.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he stepped around his wife and up a few stairs. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” he demanded.

“You’re dead,” the blue-eyed man squeaked.

“About as dead as you’re about to be, Chuck.”

~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

#cassie writes stuff #leftoverture #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #post barn scene #angst

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ladyherenya · 3 years

Photo

This was more-books-than-sometimes month, because rather than take the time to write about the books I'd finished, I just read more books! Also, I read a lot over the Easter break, including some shorter books and a very binge-able series.

Also read: Two-Step and Someone Like Me by Stephanie Fournet, Hooked by Cathy Yardley, “Cloudy with a Chance of Dropbears” and “All the Different Shades of Blue” by W.R. Gingell, and “Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory” by Martha Wells.

Reread: A Curse So Dark and Lonely by Brigid Kemmerer.

Total: nineteen novels (including two audiobooks and one reread), one novella collection, two novellas, two novelettes and one short story.

Cover thoughts: Bellewether’s blue cover is (unsurprisingly) my favourite. I also really like The Ghosts of Sherwood.

Still reading: A Portrait of Loyalty by Roseanna M. White and Playing Hearts by W.R. Gingell.

Next up: Torch by R.J. Anderson.

My full reviews are on Dreamwidth and LibraryThing.

The Rose Code by Kate Quinn (narrated by Saskia Maarleveld): Historical mystery about three young women who worked at Bletchley Park during WWII.

My favourite out of the books I’ve read so far this year. Most of the narrative is set during the war, but interspersed with sections set in 1947 -- when Beth, in a sanitarium after a breakdown, has sent her two estranged friends a coded message begging for help. I loved this, but at times found it stressful and heartbreaking! The writing is so lively and effective and emotional. 4½ ★

Castle Charming by Tansy Raynor Roberts: Fairytale retellings, collection of novellas.

A very entertaining and a somewhat different take on fairytales, focusing on the reporters, Royal Hounds and royalty at Castle Charming. Some of the character dynamics felt similar to those in Roberts’ Unreal Alchemy although I didn’t feel quite as attached to these characters. I’ll read the sequel. 3 ★

Bellewether by Susanna Kearsley: Historical and contemporary fiction, set in Long Island during the so-called Seven Years War in 1759 and the present day.

Alternates between a curator overseeing turning a house in a museum and some of the house’s previous occupants, including a French-Canadian Lieutenant awaiting hostage exchange. Despite the various tensions the characters face, there’s something slow and ultimately gentle about this story. Which is lovely -- I enjoyed the picturesque sense of place and astute observations of people -- but it is less dramatic than I was expecting. 3½ ★

Happy Trail by Daisy Prescott: Contemporary romance, set on the Appalachian Trail.

A park ranger and a hiker shelter together during a storm. I was fascinated by the insight into hiking the Appalachian Trail and enjoyed some of the characters’ interactions, although I thought the way the romance unfolded was somewhat anticlimactic. Not always what I wanted, but I don't regret reading it.

Legacy by Stephanie Fournet: Contemporary enemies-to-roommates-to-lovers.

Wes offers to move in with his late-best friend’s girlfriend to help her out financially. This sort of hurt/comfort appeals to me. I liked how seriously this story takes Corinne’s messy, consuming grief. I don’t really want to spend any more time with the characters, but I was very invested in seeing them reach a better place in their lives.

Two-Step by Stephanie Fournet: Contemporary romance between an actress and a dance instructor. I enjoyed reading this. I particularly enjoyed how Beau helps Iris with her anxiety about dancing and with her controlling mother/manager. He’s very supportive and understanding! But I finished this with a niggling feeling of dissatisfaction -- Iris needed more opportunity to support Beau in turn.

Someone Like Me by Stephanie Fournet: Contemporary romance between a yoga instructor and her new neighbour, who has just got out of prison.

This one didn’t particularly appeal to me. Although interesting to see the experiences of someone recently released from prison, the romance developed too quickly.

(No, I didn’t read all three of these back-to-back!)

Hooked by Cathy Yardley: Contemporary fandom-y romance novella, set near Seattle. Takes place during Level Up and is about two of Tessa’s colleagues.

I enjoyed the characters' interactions and would have liked this more if it hadn't felt rushed.

The Ghosts of Sherwood by Carrie Vaughn: Historical Robin Hood retelling, novella.

Exactly what I wanted! It alternates between Robin and Marian’s eldest daughter, Mary, and Marian herself. I liked seeing Robin and Marian as a long-married couple, who still love each other and still have disagreements. And the dynamic between their children gave me a zing of recognition, reminding me of my siblings. 3½ ★

The City Between by W.R. Gingell: Australian YA urban fantasy (murder) mysteries. Set in Hobart.

I ended up enjoying this series so much more than I’d expected to!

Between Jobs: After a neighbour is murdered, our seventeen-year-old orphaned narrator acquires some unexpected housemates -- two fae, one vampire. Once I got past the opening, with its tales of murder, the worldbuilding intrigued me. I still wasn’t sure what I thought about her housemates or the fact that they call her “Pet”, but was willing to reserve judgement until I’d read more. 3 ★

Between Shifts: About supermarket shifts and shapeshifters. Pet and JinYeong go undercover at the local grocery store. This is a reasonable murder mystery. I was initially disappointed with how something played out (but in retrospect can see how that was actually a positive development for Pet). It ended on a cliffhanger, so I was extra motivated to start the next book. 2½ ★

Between Floors: This is where the series took off, because things suddenly get personal! One of her fae housemates has been captured and the closest any of them get to finding Athelas is Pet contacting him in her dreams.This raises a lot of interesting questions, not just about Pet’s abilities, but about her relationship with her housemates. How much does she trust them and how much do they value Pet’s personhood? 3½ ★

Between Frames: Pet’s housemates are hired to investigate a series of fae deaths around Hobart, which involves scrutinising some baffling security footage. Another solid murder mystery. The final pages felt like one step forward, two steps back, but yet again, in retrospect, this was a positive development. I’m glad I could dive immediately into the next book. 3 ★

Between Homes: Pet has moved in with some friends. Hurray for Pet having friends! I think this was the point where I started to feel comfortable with Pet calling herself Pet -- when it's the name used by people she likes and trusts and who don’t view her as a pet at all. 3½ ★

“Cloudy with a Chance of Dropbears” (novelette): An awesome title and an entertaining opportunity to see Pet from someone else’s perspective -- moreover, someone who doesn’t know her or what she’s capable of. 3 ★

Between Walls: Pet’s friend Morgana is worried about an online friends and asks Pet and co to investigate his disappearance. Along the way, they discover that there are human groups who actually know a lot about Behindkind. I am also becoming increasingly entertained by the Korean vampire. 3 ★

“All the Different Shades of Blue” (novelette): A great cover and it explains who that guy at the cafe is, but otherwise didn’t really do anything Cloudy with a Chance of Dropbears hadn’t already done -- ie., show us Pet from someone else’s perspective. Most of the time, I have enjoyed this series all the more for binging it, but I suspect this particular story would have worked better if I had read it after a period of absence. 2½ ★

Between Cases: My favourite of these have been the ones where things get personal, and this involves a lot of revelations about who Pet is -- from a fae perspective -- and why her parents were murdered. I enjoyed this one a lot. 3½ ★

The Duke of Olympia Meets His Match by Juliana Gray: Historical espionage romance novella, set in 1893 onboard an ocean liner travelling to England. Apparently not the Duke’s first appearance in Gray’s fiction.

I liked the idea here much better than the execution. I liked Penelope, a fifty-year-old widow dependent upon her position as a governess, and I enjoyed her interactions with the older Duke of Olympia. But parts of the spy plot were rushed or confusing, and the resolution was almost-but-not-entirely satisfying. 2½ ★

A Vow So Bold and Deadly by Brigid Kemmerer: Fantasy. Follows on from the fairytale-retelling A Curse So Dark and Lonely and its sequel, A Heart So Fierce and Broken.

If this is meant as a conclusion to a trilogy, then the ending was a bit too anticlimactic, with a few too many loose ends, to be really satisfying. But I reached the end feeling positive about the story, because I really enjoyed the characters’ interactions. All of the protagonists have to deal with conflict in relationships. I loved the times when they each navigate these conflicts by acting fairly and communicating honestly, when doing so is often difficult and complicated. That’s realistic and satisfying. 3½ ★

“Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory” by Martha Wells: Science-fiction short story. Part of The Murderbot Diaries series, set after Exit Strategy.

Very, very short but I really liked seeing things from Dr Ayda Mensah’s (third person) perspective. 3½ ★

Emily of Deep Valley by Maud Hart Lovelace: Historical coming-of-age fiction, set in Minnesota in 1912-3.

I am very glad to finally have read this! It’s delightful, a fascinating insight into community life in a Minnesotan town, and it effectively captures the emotional experience of navigating a period of transition. After high school, Emily’s friends leave for college, but Emily has to find her own path to purposefully fill her time, build connections and further her education. 4 ★

On Wings of Devotion by Roseanna M. White (narrated by Susan Lyons): Romantic historical mystery, set in London during 1918. Christian fiction. Features characters from The Number of Love.

Arabelle Denler is a nurse working in a London hospital; Phillip Camden is an airman now working for British Intelligence. I enjoyed their interactions, especially once they start to get to know each other. I didn’t like the antagonist’s contribution to this narrative -- between the dangers of wartime and the protagonists’ respective issues, there’s enough tension without her. But what I enjoyed about this story outweighed what I didn’t. 3½ ★

Our Darkest Night by Jennifer Robson: Historical fiction set during the Nazi occupation of Italy in WWII.

Nina, a young Jewish woman from Venice, goes into hiding by pretending she’s married to Nico, a Catholic farmer. Robson’s strength lies in pairing details of daily life with likeable characters, realistic dialogue and a sweet romance. I read this quickly and eagerly. But if the characters had been more nuanced, more complex, or if their emotions had been conveyed more vividly, I likely would have found reading this a more emotional experience. 3½ ★

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hslllot · 3 years

Text

Part I. Draft Day

fic masterlist | rated: m, mature | word count: 4.6k content/warning: hockey harry, nosey family members, a very brief mention of anxiety, overzealous hockey stans.

DRAFT REPORT: The 411 on Harry Styles by John Michaelson for Sportsnet

There’s this kid named Harry Styles. He plays hockey. Ever heard of him?

At this point there’s not much else to be said about the british Fighting Hawks’ centre, a lock to be the No.1 pick in the 2015 NHL Draft.

Dubbed a generational talent, Styles’ abilities are at a level typically only seen in video games. We all know the Edmonton Oilers will select him with the first overall pick on June 26. In years to come, hockey fans from around the globe (but especially Oilers fans) will be on the edge of their seats, watching to see if the phenom can develop into a future Hockey Hall of Fame talent the way Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux did.

Here’s what you need to know about Harry Styles:

Age on June 26: 19 Birthplace: Redditch, Worcestershire, England Current team: University of North Dakota Fighting Hawks Position: Centre Shoots: Left Height: 6-foot Weight: 190 lbs NHL Central Scouting Rank (North American): 1st

Harry Styles is a franchise-changing player in every sense of the word. He looked like a pro player even before he flew across the pond at a young age to play in the Canadian Hockey League. This has been a long time coming but the future is finally here.

He is talented beyond his years and always has been… Styles has played against older competition his entire career. Growing up in the small village of Holmes Chapel in Cheshire, England, the options for minor hockey teams were limited. Styles struggled to find a team in his age group that matched his talent level and was forced to play with older kids - and even then his talent was unmatched. Like the two other players from the UK currently playing in the NHL, Styles eventually had to leave home and play junior hockey in Canada, where he still had to play up a year against Canadian kids that grew up in a country that eats, sleeps, and breathes the game.

He should have been drafted 1st overall last year… Styles shocked the hockey world in 2013 when, instead of declaring for the 2014 NHL Draft, he announced he would be attending the University of North Dakota and lead the Fighting Hawks to an NCAA Championship. Styles, ever the media-trained athlete, dodged questions about why he chose to go to university for a year before joining the NHL, simply stating “University was always a part of the plan, no matter what happened with hockey.” The hockey community let out a collective sigh of relief when his agent, Jeffrey Azoff (whose father was, coincidentally, Wayne Gretzky’s agent), announced shortly after his championship win that after one year at UND, Styles would be declaring for the 2015 Draft.

His trophy case is full... Harry Styles has won pretty much every individual hockey award he could possibly win in his career so far. During his CHL career with the Vancouver Giants he won Rookie of the Year, multiple MVP awards, the award for most goals, assists, and overall points, and scholastic player of the year. During his short-lived NCAA career with UND, he won Rookie of the Year, the Hobey Baker Award as the top men’s hockey player, and was named to the Academic All-American team. Unfortunately, Great Britain’s ice hockey team will not be qualifying for the Olympics or the World Championships any time soon, so unless Styles applies for Canadian citizenship, international trophies and medals will be difficult to come by. Regardless, I have a feeling that there will be many Stanley Cups in his future.

He really hates underperforming… The kid puts a lot of pressure on himself. As we have seen with many successful athletes, an insatiable inner drive to compete can lead to greatness. Styles has that drive to be great and can be his own worst critic. “When I was growing up, my mum was worried about me because I was a bit of a perfectionist.” Styles told The Hockey News back in December. “When I had a bad game, I would get so upset about it. It’s just how I am and how I think every athlete should be. Good is never enough. It’s important to always keep learning and growing to better yourself.”

He is excited to play for the Oilers… Not that he would have anything bad to say about any of the 30 NHL teams, but the Oilers do hold a special place in Styles’ heart. “It’s a great hockey town with fans that are super passionate about the game.” He told The Hockey News. “They’ve been on a bit of a slide the last couple years but the team has a great history. Not many people watch the NHL where I’m from, but my dad was always interested in it and that’s how I got into the game. He was an Oilers fan during their dynasty years with Gretzky and Messier… So if they do end up drafting me first overall, I’ll feel honored to be a part of the team, and it’ll be a nice tribute to my dad.”

Be sure to catch our live 2015 NHL Draft coverage on June 26 starting at 5pm EST/2pm PT only on Sportsnet.

“With the first overall pick in the 2015 NHL Entry Draft the Edmonton Oilers are proud to select, from Holmes Chapel in England, Harry Styles.”

The room erupted in loud cheers and applause as the Edmonton Oilers drafted the National Hockey League’s newest and most sought after commodity.

Y/N’s closest friends and extended family roamed around her parents’ living room, congratulating one another with hugs and handshakes like one of their own family members was just drafted. That wasn’t the case though, they were all just deeply invested in the hockey team and the boy from England that was meant to turn things around after so many years of losing. They were so invested, in fact, that the family organized a gathering similar to something you might see on a holiday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas.

While it was not a normal holiday, for Y/N’s family it was just as significant. It was Draft Day. And every hockey fan in North America wanted Harry Styles to play for their team.

“That’s quite the suit, isn’t it?” Her uncle Will pointed to the television where the young man is dressed in an ornate red floral suit and black dress shirt. The suit was flashier than what most hockey players would wear, but it’s clear that Harry Styles is not like most hockey players. The camera panned to him as he stood up from his seat and hugged the two brunette women sitting next to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb among a sea of other young hockey players all dressed in variations of black and grey as they patiently waited to be drafted from the stands of the BB&T Centre in Florida. It was clear to Y/N that, much like his hockey skills, Harry Styles’ fashion sense was superior compared to his peers.

There was an air of excitement in the room as the draft party, all clad in blue and orange jerseys, watched the generational talent walk down the stairs of the arena and make his way to the stage. They collectively held their breath, the room becoming silent, when he arrived at the stage where both the owner and general manager of the team were waiting to greet him. Harry shook their hands before they handed him his own blue and orange jersey. As he slipped the jersey over his head and posed for a photograph with the executives, the silence in the room broke and excited conversations and speculations for the upcoming season continued. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a stir in her belly and a sense of anticipation for what the upcoming hockey season would bring.

Her thoughts lingered on the man on the screen, wondering what it might be like to meet him, when her brother pulled her out of her reverie. “Can you believe you’ll be working with the Harry Styles?”

No - she couldn’t quite believe it.

In fact, everything happening in her life right now seemed a bit too good to be true.

Set to start her third year of university in September and having to complete mandatory practicum hours in order to graduate the following year, she somehow managed to secure a placement with her favourite hockey team. The Oilers were only taking three students from the university program and everyone in the program wanted one of those spots.

The application process was incredibly stressful for Y/N. One telephone interview, one in-person interview, and a practical session where she had to demonstrate her athletic therapy skills to the team’s head trainer. She did well with the phone interview, given that they weren’t able to see her. She was able to look down at the talking points she wrote in her notebook and pause to take a couple deep breaths without making it obvious that she was reeling on the inside. Her anxiety got the best of her during the in-person interview though, freezing up when they asked simple questions like “why do you want to work for the team?” and “what experience do you have working with sport teams?”

She left the interview feeling embarrassed, but instead of taking the time to wallow and feel sorry for herself, she went home and spent hours upon hours taping her brothers’ ankles in preparation for the practical session the following day. There was no way she was going to let the opportunity fall through the cracks. Her dream of working for the Oilers was the whole reason she decided to go to school for athletic therapy in the first place. She was never any good at playing hockey but she knew in her heart that, someday, she would work for the team she loved so much. At the end of it all, she reckons her taping skills saved her, so she took her brother out to his favourite restaurant to thank him for letting her use his ankles for practice.

Fast forward a few months and she’s now stood in her parents living room thinking about how in three months she could be taping Harry Styles’ ankles.

At the time of her application, no one knew the Oilers would be picking first in the draft. The aura around the team was a bit negative at the time (because of all the losing) and there were rumours circulating the city that some of the star players were rude to the support staff and liked to party a little too hard at The Ranch (which contributed to said losing).

When she first decided to apply for the position her father warned her, “there’s a saying that you should never meet your heroes. What if they’re all a bunch of assholes and you end up hating the team you’ve loved your whole life?”

Y/N ignored her father’s warning but silently hoped that others would feel that way, narrowing down the applicant pool. However, the rumours circulating the team had no effect on the amount of students applying for the job. The fans were loyal in Edmonton (a city not known by many around the world unless you follow hockey or are compelled to visit North America’s largest shopping mall) and although the team was losing, every kid studying athletic therapy wanted a shot with their favourite team. Y/N knew of at least fifteen students that she beat out for the position.

Now, it’s late June and there is a general hype surrounding the team, as if Harry was about to come in and shine a light on the Decade of Darkness (a term Oilers fans use to characterize the recent years in which their favourite team hadn’t made the playoffs). That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person, but Y/N supposed that he’s been dealing with this kind of pressure since he was sixteen, maybe even younger.

Everyone at her family’s draft party was, yet again, watching the television intently while Harry gave his first interview as an official member of the Edmonton Oilers hockey team. While Y/N normally loved watching these types of interviews, she was a bit zoned out- mesmerized by the look of him. The suit, the wavy chestnut hair, the dimple in his left cheek, the accent. The accent. She had never really been that attracted to hockey players, which many people found hard to believe given that she’s such a fan of the sport. All of the guys from her high school who played minor hockey were rotten and thought they were better than everyone else. She did have favourite players in the NHL, players that she loved and admired, but they were her favourites because she loves how they play the game, not because she wants to fuck them.

There was something different about Harry Styles though. Not necessarily that she wanted to fuck him (especially since she recently signed an employment contract that would forbid it), but she was certainly feeling intrigued by him. He doesn’t look like the boys she went to high school with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s British, or that he opted for a suit that set him apart from the rest of them, or maybe it was the duality of the way he held himself with unshakeable confidence in his floral suit, his gaze set intensely on the person interviewing him, posture strong and dominant, while simultaneously speaking so softly, his words laced with kindness and gratitude.

“When do you start working with the team, Y/N?” Her uncle Will asked from across the room, prompting everyone to look in her direction waiting for her response.

The news that Y/N would be working for the Oilers this season shook the family. As soon as her dad shared the news with his brother, she started receiving messages expressing congratulations from her many aunts, uncles, and cousins, shortly followed by messages asking if she would be getting free tickets to games.

“Um, mid-September, for training camp.”

“You get to meet Harry Styles?” her 9 year old cousin, Billy, asked.

“I do. I will be one of the team’s trainers.” The young boy held a look of wonder on his face, as if realizing for the first time that that his oldest cousin was actually kind of cool.

“Do you think he’s single?” Her aunt Maria asked with a smirk on her face, turning to the television to look at Harry Styles. Aunt Maria doesn’t care much for hockey but she never failed to mention which players she believed to be handsome. She was also the nosey type of aunt that liked to inquire about Y/N’s dating life. “Maybe you two will hit it off.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at her aunt, waving off her comment. But before she could retort, her father chimed in. “Ha! Yea, right! That’s not going to happen. She’s not allowed to date anyone on the team, it’s the rules. Plus, Y/N knows better than to get involved with any of these guys.”

Her father was right. It is the rules. Y/N thought back to when she went into the Oilers headquarters back in April to sign her employment contract. She asked a lot of questions, making sure she understood everything about the document she was signing.

“Personal relationships? Even friendships are forbidden?” she asked the head trainer, TJ, for clarification.

“It depends. You can be friendly, sure, but I would avoid spending time with the players outside of training and game times. Could be seen as unprofessional.”

Y/N understood why such rules were in place, and she had no issue with it at the time. A woman securing a position on a professional sports team was rare, let alone a woman securing a position with a professional men’s team. She knew when she chose this career path that it would always be an uphill battle and that she’d have to work harder and be more strategic than the men in her field. She wanted- no, needed to excel and prove that she could be a talented athletic therapist and a valuable member of the team, so she had no intention whatsoever of messing that up with any type of personal relationships. She also understood the power dynamic between the professional athletes and the support staff, the different ways in which power can be abused, and how personal relationships could complicate things. It all made sense to her. Plus, she was happy enough with just becoming friends with the other trainers and she probably wouldn’t have a lot of free time, anyways, balancing her practicum and her school work.

Today, however, she couldn’t help the very slight pull on her heartstrings at the thought of not getting to know Harry Styles on a more personal level.

As if he’d even be interested in the first place.

In a hotel restaurant in Sunrise, Florida, a few hours after the draft, Harry Styles sat with his mother Anne, sister Gemma, and agent Jeff, celebrating his newly drafted status over a bottle of champagne. He knew he should be feeling elated, like it was the best day of his life, but all he felt was exhausted. The conversation at the table happened around him while he sat in his own head, unable to think about anything but what it might feel like to be tucked into his bed in his childhood bedroom in Holmes Chapel.

The weeks leading up to the draft were an absolute circus filled with interviews and talking to the media nearly every day (he hates talking to the media), shooting promo for all of his endorsements (he’s thankful for the money they give him but he knows he is an excruciatingly terrible actor), and flying around North America to visit all of the potential cities where he might be drafted (it was a pointless tour because everyone knew where he was going to end up).

He had only tonight to celebrate with his family before it was all set to start again. Him and Jeff will fly off to Edmonton tomorrow morning for a week to speak to the media there, meet the teammate he’ll be living with, and do a surprise skating session with some kids at a summer camp. Meanwhile, his mum and sister will fly back to England.

“Any idea where you’ll live then?” Anne asked her son, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the conversation.

“Hm?” He hadn’t a clue what his mum just asked him but he’d hate to admit that rather than listening to anything the three of them had been talking about for the last hour he’d been thinking about how he’d rather be sleeping “Sorry, I think the champagne’s got to me a bit.”

“The team’s got him living with one of his older teammates and his family.” Jeff stepped in, knowing Harry wasn’t fully paying attention. “They do this with the young guys to get them used to living on their own. Teach ‘em how to cook, do laundry, and keep ‘em in line. He won’t be partying every night and bringing girls back to his place if he lives with the guy’s wife and kids.”

“Oh please,” Gemma chimed in. “Not like any of that would be an issue for Harry. He’s been away from home for years. And he’s hardly got time for partying and dating.”

Harry shot Jeff a look warning him to keep his mouth shut. When Harry found out about the living arrangements the team had planned for him, he was less than pleased. After all, he’d just spent the last year living in a dorm room at the University of North Dakota where he had complete freedom. Gemma was right, he didn’t have much time for partying and dating. But he liked having his own space, and he really liked being able to invite someone over after a game, either to celebrate a win or relieve some stress after a loss.

“You never know, some of these young guys get their first big pay cheque and a taste of the big leagues and it can go off the rails pretty fast.”

“I like to think I raised my baby to know better than to get caught up in a pay cheque.” Anne placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder and he quickly reciprocated, reaching up to place his hand over hers.

Not liking where this conversation was going, Harry finally cut in. “You did. And Jeffrey, you know I’m not that kinda guy. Either way, none of this matters if I don’t make it past training camp. For all we know I could be going back to the juniors for the season.”

“Doesn’t matter who you are or what kinda guy you are, H, it’s just what the team does. It’s tradition. And c’mon, I know you like to keep your expectations in check, but the team’s made it pretty clear that you’re gonna be in the starting lineup come October.”

Jeff was right. The team had all but promised that he would make it past training camp. The question wasn’t if he’d make it past training camp, but in what shape he’d be in and how long it would take for the team to start winning games.

“The coach said I’m small and need to bulk up, especially since I’ll be playing against older, more experienced men.” Harry could feel the weight of his mum’s gaze as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not quite where I need to be yet, but I’ll get there.”

Harry and his family were stood in the hotel lobby with Jeff, convening on plans for the morning when he felt a small tug on the hem of his red floral suit jacket. He spun himself around, ready to confront the individual bold enough to touch him without his consent, to find a young girl, no older than five years old staring up at him.

Harry looked at her, a bit taken aback and undoubtedly with a bit of confusion written on his face, and then spotted, a few feet behind her, two individuals who were most likely her parents. Suddenly, he realized that he may have actually had a few too many glasses of champagne and immediately tried to compose himself, standing straighter and trying to will away the exhaustion in his eyes and the haziness in his mind.

“Oh - um, hello there.” He cleared his throat before using the soft voice he reserves for adorable, small children like the one stood before him.

“Are you Harry Styles?” She asked with wide eyes and a small, timid voice.

“I am, sweetheart. What can I do for you?”

A bright smile etched itself onto her face. But instead of answering him, she looked back at the adults standing behind her, motioning for them to help as she was too shy to proceed on her own. The man, who Harry presumed was her father, moved to stand beside her.

“This is Millie. She wanted to say hi to you because she’s a big fan of yours.”

Harry lowered himself in front of the young girl so that he was crouched down and eye-level with her. “Hi Millie, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.” He reached out to shake the young girl’s small hand. “Have you got anything that I could sign? Or I suppose we could take a photo if you’d like?”

The young girl removed her hand from Harry’s, nodding her head eagerly. She began to unzip her jacket, revealing a bright orange Edmonton Oilers jersey underneath.

“Oh? Look at that! You’re an Oilers fan. In Florida?” Harry lifted himself from his crouched position and directed his question toward at the girl’s father.

“Yes, well, we actually travelled here from Edmonton, to watch the draft in person.” Harry raised his eyebrows in shock. He knew that the flight from Edmonton to Florida is long, and likely expensive. The tickets to attend the draft live probably weren’t cheap either. “It’s not every day your favourite team picks first overall! Let alone gets to pick a player like you. We were so excited so we decided to make a family trip out of it. Turn around, Millie, show him the back!” Millie’s father handed Harry a sharpie as Millie turned her back to Harry.

It was at that moment that Harry started to understand the weight of the moment. The name ‘STYLES’ was embroidered on the back of Millie’s Oilers jersey, above the number ‘15’ indicating his draft year. He was speechless. This was, after all, the first time he was seeing his name in the classic Oilers’ orange and blue colours adorned on a fan’s back.

The feeling was different from earlier at the draft when they presented him with his own jersey. This one belonged to someone else. Someone bought his jersey before he’d even ever played a single minute for the team. They flew across the continent, from Edmonton to Florida, just to watch him get drafted. It was a lot for his hazy, champagne-diluted mind to take in.

Realizing he’d just been standing there staring at the jersey, he cleared his throat once again in hopes that he could hide the unknown thoughts and emotions he was trying to reconcile. “Wow, um, I didn’t realize you could get these already.”

Millie’s father laughed, “Man, they’ve been selling these in Edmonton since they announced we’d be picking first in the draft.” Again, the feeling was overwhelming for Harry.

We’d be picking first in the draft.

To this family, and probably others in Edmonton, the Oilers were “we”. They win together, they lose together. If the Oilers pick first in the draft, they all pick first. It was their team. And now he, Harry, was a part of that “we”.

Harry reached down to sign the jersey on Millie’s back, quickly scribbling his autograph on the left side. As he straightened himself, he felt Anne move to stand beside him, apparently having sensed her son’s unease and unconscious need for his mother to join him in this moment.

“Hi, I’m Harry’s mum, Anne. Would you like me to take a picture of the four of you?” Millie’s father eagerly handed his phone to Anne and waved his wife over to be in the photo. Several photos of Harry and the family were taken, followed by a few of just Harry and Millie.

“Would you mind if I took one of Harry and Millie on my phone as well?” Anne asked as she snapped the last photo. “This is the first time Harry’s met a fan wearing his name on an Oilers jersey. We’d like to remember it.”

The family was more than happy to oblige so Anne took a few more photos on her phone, including one where Millie’s back was to the camera and the ‘STYLES’ name in full view.

It was so like his mum to understand how special the moment was and to come in and save him. He couldn’t quite articulate what he was feeling in that moment, as understanding emotions and sentimentality were not his greatest strengths, and he most definitely never would have asked to take a photo to keep for himself had she not done it.

The obvious feelings were joy and gratitude. Every day he was thankful to play the game he loved, to be successful, and to have fans that loved and supported him. It didn’t always make sense that complete strangers paid him so much attention just for playing a game, but he accepted it and always tried to show those strangers kindness in return. However, there was another feeling lingering, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Looking at his mum, he knew that she knew what it was. She always knew. And certainly she would make him talk about it later.

As they separated from the family and walked toward the hotel elevators, where Gemma and Jeff were waiting, Anne grabbed onto her son’s arm, holding him close as they walked side by side.

“Do you see that they love you already, my darling?” She asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at his mum, unsure of what she was going on about. “I know you. I know that you care what people think and that you are scared to disappoint them. You just need to step out on the ice and be yourself. Just be Harry. They already love you and this is only just the beginning.”

WOW! OK. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I wanted this chapter to be more of an introduction to harry and the mc and to the fan culture that harry is about to experience!! I’ve already started on the next part so that should be up before Christmas! If you’ve made it this far, all I can say is that I love you and appreciate you. If you liked it, please let me know. I debated not posting this so many times (and I might even regret it later) so feedback will certainly ease my troubled mind!! I ALWAYS LOVE YOU, BUT ESPECIALLY TODAY!! xx Shan.

Harry’s Draft Day Look

talk to me about generational | fic masterlist

#wow i'm so nervous to post this #generational #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #hockey harry styles #athlete harry styles

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atlanticcanada · 2 years

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Injured Canadian says there was no warning ahead of missile attack on Ukrainian base

A New Brunswick man who was injured when a military base near Ukraine's western border was struck by Russian missiles on Sunday says the deadly attack came with no warning.

Hunter Francis of the Eel Ground First Nation in northeast New Brunswick said Tuesday there were no air raid sirens before the missiles hit.

"We got hit hard," Francis said in an exchange of messages with The Canadian Press Tuesday. "They hit the supply depot first, then the barracks second. They hit us for almost 30 minutes of continuous bombing."

The former Canadian Forces member, who arrived in Ukraine last week to volunteer in the defence against Russia, suffered injuries described as superficial.

"I had glass and metal in my right hand and my nose. I don't remember when that happened," he wrote. The experience was enough to convince him it was time to leave the war zone. "I'm coming home," he wrote on his Facebook page Sunday.

Chris Ecklund of Fight for Ukraine would not name Francis or any other Canadian who has joined the fight but said he has been in contact with the one Canadian injured Sunday, and he was doing well. The organization has been providing logistical information for Canadians who want to join the fight in Ukraine.

"He's in much better spirits today. He's had a couple good nights' sleep, a hot shower and some food in his stomach, and he's feeling much better mentally and physically," Ecklund said in an interview Tuesday.

"He's just waiting for the Canadian Embassy to get his travel documents so he can return to Canada." In a Facebook post, Francis said his wallet and passport were destroyed when his building was hit.

Ecklund said the injured Canadian is now in an unidentified country bordering Ukraine.

He was about 20 kilometres from the Ukraine-Poland border, near the Ukrainian city of Lviv, when Russian missiles hit the military training base Sunday.

Lviv Gov. Maksym Kozytskyi said more than 30 Russian cruise missiles targeted the sprawling facility. Most of the missiles "were shot down because the air defence system worked," but the ones that got through killed at least 35 people and wounded 134, he said.

Francis has posted pictures and videos to his Facebook page that show fires and damage from the blasts, including a deep crater.

In one post, Francis said: "I have experienced full state on state warfare and can say for certain it is not glorious. I urge all foreign fighters to NOT go to Ukraine."

Ecklund said he estimates the number of Canadians who have responded so far at between 500 and 1,000.

"Through our website we're averaging one to two dozen more people that are signing up and filling out forms every day. We had 65 one day alone. It's pretty steady with the number of people who want to go over and help out," he said.

"Some people want to go fight. Other people want to be in the rear to supply. Other people want to be combat medics. Other people want to be on the other side of the border helping out. It's a little bit of everything," he added.

This report by The Canadian Press was first published March 15, 2022.

-- With files from Hina Alam and The Associated Press.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/4dmhMPS

#new brunswick #prince edward island #nova scotia #news #politics #canada #CTVAtlantic

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creepingsharia · 3 years

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I Now Better Understand the ‘Good German’

Apathy in the face of tyranny turns out not to be a German or Russian characteristic.

I Now Better Understand the ‘Good German’

As my listeners and readers can hopefully attest, I have been on a lifelong quest to understand human nature and human behavior. I am sad to report that I have learned more in the last few years, particularly in 2020, than in any equivalent period of time.

One of the biggest revelations concerns a question that has always plagued me: How does one explain the “good German,” the term used to describe the average, presumably decent German, who did nothing to hurt Jews but also did nothing to help them and did nothing to undermine the Nazi regime? The same question could be asked about the average Frenchman during the Vichy era, the average Russian under Lenin, Joseph Stalin, Leonid Brezhnev and their successors, and the millions of others who did nothing to help their fellow citizens under oppressive dictatorships.

These past few years have taught me not to so quickly judge the quiet German, Russian, etc. Of course, I still judge Germans who helped the Nazis and Germans who in any way hurt Jews. But the Germans who did nothing? Not so fast.

What has changed my thinking has been watching what is happening in America (and Canada and Australia and elsewhere, for that matter).

The ease with which tens of millions of Americans have accepted irrational, unconstitutional and unprecedented police state-type restrictions on their freedoms, including even the freedom to make a living, has been, to understate the case, sobering.

The same holds true for the acceptance by most Americans of the rampant censorship on Twitter and all other major social media platforms. Even physicians and other scientists are deprived of freedom of speech if, for example, they offer scientific support for hydroxychloroquine along with zinc to treat COVID-19 in the early stages. Board-certified physician Dr. Vladimir Zelenko, who has saved hundreds of COVID-19 patients from suffering and/or death, has been banned from Twitter for publicizing his lifesaving hydroxychloroquine and zinc protocol.

Half of America—the non-Left half—is afraid to speak their minds at virtually every university, movie studio and large corporation—indeed, at virtually every place of work. Professors who say anything that offends the Left fear being ostracized if they have tenure and being fired if they do not. People are socially ostracized, publicly shamed and/or fired for differing with Black Lives Matter, as America-hating and white-hating a group as has ever existed. And few Americans speak up. On the contrary, when BLM protestors demand that diners outside of restaurants raise their fists to show their support of BLM, nearly every diner does.

So, then, who are we to condemn the average German who faced the Gestapo if he didn’t salute Hitler or the average Russian who faced the NKVD (the secret police and intelligence agency that preceded the KGB) if he didn’t demonstrate sufficient enthusiasm for Stalin? Americans face the left’s cancel culture, but not left-wing secret police or reeducation camps. (At least not yet—I have little doubt the Left would send outspoken conservatives to reeducation camps if they could.)

I have come to understand the average German living under Nazism and the average Russian living under communism for another reason: the power of the media to brainwash.

As a student of totalitarianism since my graduate studies at the Russian Institute of Columbia University’s School of International Affairs (as it was then known), I have always believed that only in a dictatorship could a society be brainwashed. I was wrong. I now understand that mass brainwashing can take place in a nominally free society.

The incessant left-wing drumbeat of the New York Times, Washington Post, Los Angeles Times and almost every other major newspaper, plus The Atlantic, the New Yorker, CNN, ABC, CBS, NBC, PBS, NPR, all of Hollywood and almost every school from kindergarten through graduate school, has brainwashed at least half of America every bit as effectively as the German, Soviet, and Chinese Communist press did (and in the latter case, still does). That thousands of schools will teach the lie that is the New York Times‘ “1619 Project” is one of countless examples.

Prior to the lockdowns, I flew almost every week of the year, so I was approached by people who recognized me on a regular basis. Increasingly, I noticed that people would look around to see if anyone was within earshot and then tell me in almost a whisper: “I support Trump” or “I’m a conservative.” The last time people looked around and whispered things to me was when I used to visit the Soviet Union.

In Quebec this past weekend, as one can see on a viral video, a family was fined and members arrested because six—yes, six—people gathered to celebrate the new year. A neighbor snitched on them, and the celebrants were duly arrested. The Quebec government lauded the snitches and asked for more public “collaboration.”

Snitches are likewise lauded and encouraged in some Democrat-run states and cities in America (Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti in March: “Snitches get rewards”) and by left-wing governments in Australia. Plenty of Americans, Canadians, and Australians are only too happy to snitch on people who refuse to lock down their lives.

All this is taking place without concentration camps, without a Gestapo, without a KGB and without Maoist reeducation camps.

That’s why I no longer judge the average German as easily as I used to. Apathy in the face of tyranny turns out not to be a German or Russian characteristic. I just never thought it could happen in America.

#Law #Legal #News #Media #Politics #Terror

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ladyanput · 5 years

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Dousing The Fire

Did I stay up until 1am writing this? I most certainly did. This is set just after Damian and Marinette left for their date in Chapter 2 of 'Seeing Green'

Alright, here's a warning for crude language, and tons and tons of Miraculous Salt. Enjoy.

At twenty-three years old, Evangeline Bourbon had seen her fair share of things. She had grown up with only her father, who spent more time down at the bar with his buddies, than raise his only child. Growing up around a drunk of a father, you learn not to put up with shit real fast.

He hadn't been abusive, he kept a stable job… He just seemed to prefer the bottle to being with his daughter, so she had been alone often. Evangeline grew up in Canada, in an Acadian town. She had kept good grades, she studied her ass off to learn French, and to complete her education degree, so that she could teach. She hoped her father would be proud then. But he simply went back to guzzling down his beer, as his friends around him drunkenly congratulated her.

So she moved to a different town, she had gotten a job at a Catholic school, as a TA, and a nun there had kindly suggested trying to go to France for a year, to strengthen her French. The lycée she had applied to had been more than willing to bring her aboard.

Her first impression of Miss Caline Bustier was that she was a pretty, kind, and very accepting woman. She had looked forward to learning from her, since she had been raised to stay with her original homeroom class, all the way up to their last year of school! She must have been such an amazing teacher!

How foolish she had been to believe that.

The class had not given a good first impression. As soon as the Canadian woman had said where she was from, Lila had perked up, then given her a wide smile.

"I'm very good friends with Monsieur Trudeau and his daughter, Elenore. She is such a little cutie pie, I'm like the big sister she's never had, so just adores me because she's an only child." She cooed, and the class around her praised her for knowing such a person as the Prime Minister of Canada, and going on about how handsome he was. Miss Bourbon merely raised an eyebrow.

"Mister Trudeau has three children, miss Rossi, and none of them are named Elenore." She crossed her arms, noting how Lila's green eyes narrowed in fury. Nothing had gone right after that, between her and the class. If she messed up on her French, they'd mock her. If she told Caline, she'd be told to grow up, that she's a teacher and needs to set an example.

Well she had almost taken that advice, until she had seen Marinette. Seen how isolated she was, seen how abandoned she was by her own friends. One look into those large blue eyes, void of light, and she had put her foot down. Now she'd do anything for Marinette, they had grown more into friends that a teacher's assistant and a student. And it made her very protective, especially when that boy from Wayne Enterprises has asked Mari out on a date.

Eva glanced out the elevator doors, smiling as she watched Marinette and Damian head towards the exit, eager for that first date. He seemed like a nice young man, and he had gotten the memo fast that if Mari got hurt, he'd find her shoe shoved when the sun don't shine.

When she got back to her room, she found Caline sitting on one of the beds, flipping through a magazine.

"The young man seems nice. I made sure he'd have Marinette back by nine thirty." Eva spoke as she went to her own bed, frowning as she was met in silence. She turned to the teacher, hands on her hips. "Caline, you could be a bit more concerned."

Miss Bustier glanced up, then gave her TA a patient smile, as if she were giving her the world with that one smile. Eva felt her blood pressure spike.

"Marinette will be just fine. There's no reason to be so concerned about her, she wanders off on her own all the time back in Paris. Honestly, Eva, you need to learn to not be so uptight about things." Caline shrugged and went back to her magazine.

"Yeah, but this isn't Paris, now is it? Might I remind you that we are in Gotham city? One of the crime capitals of America? Where a lot of people go missing and are never found? No, because that would take some actual fucking thinking in your part, now wouldn't it?" Eva snarled at her, as she took her dark hair out of its bun. Caline was on her feet in seconds, fury flaring in her eyes.

"You watch your tone with me. Why are you like this, so confrontational? You really need to stop being so confrontational, Miss Bourbon, or I think I will have to report you to the department of education." Caline took hold of Eva's arm, blinking in surprise as Eva began to laugh.

"Oh please, Caline, you don't have any fucking power in that school. I'm not one of your bullied students you can gaslight into being quiet and take the punches, until they want to die. Because that plan works so fucking well, it certainly worked with Chloe, didn't it?" She didn't miss Caline's flinch. "You didn't even do a head count this morning. I was nice enough to head out early this morning to Wayne Enterprises, to make sure they had everything set up for us, so that you could sleep in a bit and enjoy a class that no one fucking ever wants to teach, and you leave one of your students behind.

"You ever wonder why you were moved up a grade with that class of yours? Moved from Dupont to the lycée. While the department fed you bullshit about you being 'such and outstanding teacher, shaping the lives of many bright futures', in truth, no one wants to teach that fucking class. You have a class full of idiot assholes, who go and attack anyone who says that their precious Lila Rossi is lying, especially that Alya. They're like a bunch of rabid dogs that no one wants to touch, so they keep you with them. I think that's just making it worse, because you encourage this behaviour. Marinette is suffering, because her friends all believe Lila's lies, and you swallowed the bullshit about Lila having a condition that forces her to lie."

"Miss Bourbon, I know you have never seen Lila in the best of lights, but-"

"I nearly lost my job because of her! I nearly had the police on me, because she was spreading rumours that I slept with one of my male students back in Canada, got caught, and ran here to hide out. Thank fuck that the principal in the lycée isn't letting you suck his dick, like the one at DuPont, and had enough common sense to look into my job history. I taught at a girl's only prep school. And when this lie came to life, you didn't fucking punish her, you let it all stew!" Eva felt like tearing her hair out. Caline seemed scandalized, but it obviously wasn't clicking for her. "I'm not saying you're entirely to blame here. Lila's mother really needs to see through her daughter's lies. Alya really needs to learn to actually do resource checking, to hold back her pride, and take lessons on being a better friend, who doesn't toss her friend aside, because something shiny and new came along. Most of your class needs to really smarten up and get over themselves. They obviously believe these lies, because they don't want to admit they were wrong. Nobody likes appearing that they were wrong. But fuck, you need to get off of your high horse and be an actual teacher. Akumatizations happen all the time, they'll keep happening, because people get mad, they're human. But if you don't fix this, what will you do when Marinette finally gets akumatized?"

"Marinette? No, she'd never get akumatized. She is an example to her classmates, she's never even attracted an akuma, she.." Caline seemed shaken from all that had spewed from Eva's mouth. No, none of it could be true. She loved her class, she helped them thrive, helped them all become friends. She was a good teacher, Eva didn't know what she was talking about.

"You honestly believe that? Out of the entire class, only Marinette, Adrien, and myself have not been akumatized. I'm not worried about Adrien, he's so spineless, I doubt he'd ever actually get mad. But if you don't help me change this class, you're all going to push her towards that akumatization." Evangeline felt drained, taking a seat on her bed. She shook her head once more. "Please, Caline, before it's too late."

Caline Bustier was quiet for a long time, before she reached over and patted Eva on the head, similar to how one would pat a dog.

"Miss Bourbon, while I appreciate your… Passionate, though very inappropriate outburst, you don't know my students like I do. Marinette has been acting out for a few years now, obviously scared of this change in dynamic. But Lila can't help the disease she has, and Marinette needs to see through her. Some are just stubborn to change. And you must really work on that temper of yours before we get back to Paris. I wouldn't want you to get akumatized." Caline smiled that kind smile she always wore.

"Oh fuck you. You know what? Fine! I'm not wasting my breath in you anymore, I'm getting a drink!" Eva got to her feet, grabbing her purse as she stormed out of the hotel room and back to the elevator. Why? Why did everyone in that stupid class have to be so blind and stubborn?

Once the elevator doors slid shut, she leaned back against the wall, and took a deep, shaky breath, tears flooding her eyes, but she didn't once let them fall.

She just didn't care anymore about the class. If any of them finally saw through the lies, she'd go to bat for those kids, just like she did for Mari. But for now, she'd wash her hands of them. Why try putting out a fire that Miss Bustier kept dousing with fuel, afterall?

#Seeing Green #miraculous ladybug #miraculous salt #lila salt #alya salt #miss bustier salt #daminette #maribat

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gstqaobc · 3 years

Text

THE ROYAL FASCINATOR

Friday, May 21, 2021

Hello, royal watchers and all those intrigued by what’s going on inside the House of Windsor. This is your biweekly dose of royal news and analysis. Reading this online? Sign up here to get this delivered to your inbox.

Janet DavisonRoyal Expert

Meeting the Queen online

For Dr. Steve Beerman, it was in many ways like having a pleasant conversation with his 92-year-old mother. Except it wasn’t his mother. It was the Queen. Beerman, a retired family physician in Nanaimo, B.C., spoke with Queen Elizabeth online the other day as she gave him — virtually — an award recognizing his longstanding work in drowning prevention. “I’m very delighted to be able to present you with this cup, a very large cup, which one day you might see if you come to London,” Elizabeth told Beerman as she honoured him with the King Edward VII Cup during the virtual session with the Royal Life Saving Society. Beerman, co-chair of the Canadian Drowning Prevention Coalition, was quick to reply that it was “a pleasure and a humbling honour to be with you.” Being with the Queen in this way has become the way of the royal world during the pandemic. Many observers have said that virtual sessions involving the Queen have offered new insight into the 95-year-old monarch, who has more often been seen from afar, giving formal speeches or doing a walkabout. “Many people who commented to me about the interview [said] that they had never seen her have what they would describe as a nearly normal conversation with some people,” Beerman said. “My own mother is 92. This was not a whole lot different than talking to my own mother.” Beerman, a trustee with the Royal Life Saving Society, had met the Queen at Buckingham Palace a handful of times in connection with that Commonwealth organization. But his most recent session with her was memorable in a new way. “It was more chatty,” he said. “It was more communicative than when I’ve experienced these encounters in real life, face to face. So I thought this was actually a better way to do this.” A seven-minute video of the session involving Beerman and others honoured for their drowning prevention efforts was posted online, but the overall virtual encounter lasted about 20 minutes, and came after participants had two practice sessions. “In the second one, we actually rehearsed what we were going to say and we were coached in a very nice way by the people from the royal household about pausing and being slow enough to allow her to interject with comments or questions,” Beerman said. “We were very much encouraged to participate in a conversation as opposed to doing an acceptance speech.” Still, there was a bit of nervousness for Beerman as the call began. “There’s always some nerves about are you going to misstep or say something in a way you might regret or that might be perceived to be awkward by others,” he said. As the conversation progressed, Elizabeth shared her own memories of receiving a life-saving award as a teenager. In 1941, she became the first person in the Commonwealth to receive the Royal Life Saving Society’s junior respiration award. “I didn’t realize I was the first one — I just did it, and had to work very hard for it,” Elizabeth said. “It was a great achievement and I was very proud to wear the badge on the front of my swimming suit. It was very grand, I thought.” Beerman sees the shift to the virtual world for the Royal Family as a signal the House of Windsor can change with the times. “I think it’s a strong statement of ... we can pivot when we need to, we are flexible, adjustable and, like the rest of the world, we have to respond to the reality that we live within.”

The deceit behind the Diana interview

The interview was as devastating as it was haunting. And now, 26 years after Diana, Princess of Wales, sat down with a BBC journalist and told the world “there were three of us in this marriage, so it was a bit crowded,” an inquiry has found that Martin Bashir acted deceitfully to gain the interview. It’s a finding that will echo through both the royal and journalistic worlds. In response, Princes William and Harry made statements that lay bare the deep pain the interview with their mother has left with them. “It is my view that the deceitful way the interview was obtained substantially influenced what my mother said. The interview was a major contribution to making my parents’ relationship worse and has since hurt countless others," William said in his statement. "It brings indescribable sadness to know that the BBC’s failures contributed significantly to her fear, paranoia and isolation that I remember from those final years with her." But what saddens William the most, he said, “is that if the BBC had properly investigated the complaints and concerns first raised in 1995, my mother would have known that she had been deceived.” Diana was failed, he said, “not just by a rogue reporter, but by leaders at the BBC who looked the other way rather than asking the tough questions.” Prince Harry said their mother “was an incredible woman who dedicated her life to service. She was resilient, brave and unquestionably honest.” He said what “deeply concerns” him is that similar journalistic practices are still widespread. “Our mother lost her life because of this, and nothing has changed. By protecting her legacy, we protect everyone, and uphold the dignity with which she lived her life. Let’s remember who she was and what she stood for.” Observers suggest it will all have a significant impact on how the BBC is viewed. “It shakes the real core of journalism because people will no longer look to that broadcaster and trust them wholly because we now know that they're prepared to lie to coerce people into taking part in interviews,” marketing consultant Diana Young told the CBC’s Tesa Arcilla. Diana and Prince Charles were divorced in 1996. She died after a car crash in Paris in 1997.

Babies and the line of succession

(Peter Byrne/Press Association via The Associated Press Word this week that Princess Beatrice and her husband, Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi, are expecting their first child will add yet another shuffle in short order to the line of succession. The child, due sometime this fall, will be the 12th great-grandchild for the Queen, and the fourth baby to arrive in a matter of months. Beatrice’s younger sister, Princess Eugenie, and her husband, Jack Brooksbank, welcomed their son, August, in February. The following month, Princess Anne’s daughter Zara, and her husband, Mike Tindall, welcomed their son Lucas. Prince Harry and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, are expecting a daughter, with a due date thought to be in early summer. That baby will take the highest spot in the succession among the new arrivals, landing at No. 8, following her father, Harry, who is sixth in line to the throne and Harry and Meghan’s first child, Archie, now sitting at No. 7. The passage of time can mean marked shifts in the line of succession for those who enter it somewhat lower in the roster. Take, for example, Sarah Chatto, daughter of Princess Margaret. When she was born in 1964, she was No. 7. Now, she is 26th.

Royally quotable

"Planting a tree is a statement of hope and faith in the future."

— Prince Charles, in a video posted online to mark the launch of the Queen’s Green Canopy,

a tree-planting initiative to mark Queen Elizabeth’s Platinum Jubilee

next year that aims to enhance the environment now and for future generations.

Royal reads

1. Prince Harry says the pain of Diana’s death

pushed him to drinking and drugs

. The Duke of Sussex’s latest comments, along with further criticism of how he said the Royal Family neglected both him and his wife, Meghan, came in an interview with Oprah Winfrey in The Me You Can’t See, a new Apple TV series about mental health debuting Friday. [CBC]

2. Queen Elizabeth’s

first major ceremonial duty since the death of her husband

, Prince Philip, came during a scaled-down state opening of Parliament. [The Independent]

3. Prince Michael of Kent, a cousin of Queen Elizabeth, has

denied reports

he was willing to use his royal status for personal profit and provide access to the regime of Russian President Vladimir Putin. [BBC]

4. There was

lots of taffeta and no tantrums

during the creation of Diana's wedding dress, recalls one of its designers. [The Guardian]

5. One of the Queen’s two new puppies, which she reportedly received a few months ago from Prince Andrew for companionship,

has died

. [The Daily Mail]

6. The succession for the British throne is clearly laid out, but succession can in some other countries be

considerably more complicated

. [The Guardian]

Cheers!

I’m always happy to hear from you. Send your ideas, comments, feedback and notes to

[email protected]

. Problems with the newsletter? Please let me know about any typos, errors or glitches.

New newsletter alert! Our CBC colleague Peter Armstrong has a newsletter called Mind Your Business, a weekly guide to understanding what’s happening in the worlds of economics, business and finance. Subscribe to it

here

💜🙏🏻🙂✝️💟PG💟✝️🙂🙏🏻💜

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿.

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afy2018 · 3 years

Text

Roll in the Hay *Updated* Ch. 1

A crack of bright morning light arose through the flat Canadian fields, pouring across open farmlands and flooding throughout Purgatory. The rays cut into a small homestead, breaking through the parted curtains to wake the household. It shone in her eyes, waking her before her alarm had the chance to do so, making her initially turn away from her window. The alarm blared by her head until their local radio station booted up. She sat up, turning off the white noise to begin her day, starting off with her sister. Through a thin sheen of sleep, she found her way one door over, barging into the unlocked room where her sister was still sound asleep. She kicked her mattress, watching the frame shift as she woke up.

She groaned at the rude awakening, only verbally protesting after the third kick, “HEY! Okay, I’m alive, Jesus woman.”

“It’s time to wake up,” she informed her.

“Too frickin’ early.”

“Same time as always, Wyn,” Waverly informed her.

“Still too early,” she whined.

Wynonna sighed in defeat and grabbed her jeans from the night before, yanking them on while she hobbled to the small wardrobe to grab a shirt and bra. Stretching as she made her way to the bathroom, the siblings split paths with the elder one still getting ready at her usual lackadaisical speed while Waverly went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Even with her sister’s inability to play nice with others, she found it efficient to do most of the more menial tasks her sister chose to avoid.

She pulled out strips of venison from their icebox and onto a hot pan, where they sizzled until an enticing scent drifted down the basement where their farmhands were living. Xavier, their transporter ascended the stairs, his loud footsteps clomping against the old wooden planks until he hit the first landing.

“Smells good, need any help?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, can you go grab the milk and water from the fridge?”

“Of course, anything else, Miss Earp?”

“Yeah, can you wake up Doc, I need him to do a quick check on the goats to make sure they're okay. They were a bit loud last night.”

“Of course,” he said, walking back down.

Waverly sighed and cleared her throat, flipping the meat onto a plate before moving to the next part of their meal, English muffins. She placed them in the oven until they turned golden brown before pulling out butter and setting their food on the table with four plates. Waverly turned back around and grabbed a bowl of fruit from the window sill, to top off a healthy and nutritious breakfast.

Wynonna came back in through the kitchen door with her full report. “The blueberries look almost ready. Same as the strawberries.”

“Peaches and cherries?”

“Pfft, nowhere close. They need maybe another two weeks to be ready for picking,” she added, popping a fractured piece of bacon in her mouth. “Hot, hot.”

“Yeah, they’re fresh off the pan,” Waverly half-heartedly warned.

“Yeah, I guessed,” she playfully bit back, flicking the back of her sister’s head.

“Did we ever get a claim on the job posting?”

“I don't know… maybe,” her sister shrugged.

“Great,” she sarcastically remarked as she took her seat at the table.

“What was with the goats?”

“Already have Doc checking on them.”

“Good,” Wynonna said, looking at their breakfast displayed out on the table. “Looks great, need any help?”

“Just tell the boys breakfast is ready.”

“Yokkie-doke.”

Doc moved out of the way for the older Earp and looked at his crew. “Waverly,” he greeted, tipping his hat as he left for the barn. “Y’all can start without me.”

The other two returned from the fields, taking their places at the small table as they began to feast, taking a small share of everything their chef had prepared. Wynonna smiled and licked her lips, taking a piece of bacon then a few of the sliced nectarines and an English muffin. They continued to engorge themselves, leaving enough for Doc until the mustachioed gentleman came back, sitting down with them.

“Didn't see anything outta the ordinary. All of them are still there,” he reported.

“Okay, thank you,” Waverly replied.

“I heard we were getting a new farmhand. Any ideas?”

“We haven't gotten any applicants, yet,” she disappointedly informed them, “Due to the latest yield, Dolls, you’re moving to the arbor, Wynonna in the greenhouse, and I’ll work in the fields. Doc, you’re in charge of the grass fields until a greenhorn comes along.”

“Okay, so I’m still with the goats, right?” Doc asked

“Yeah, you remind them of their kin,” Wynonna quipped behind her glass of water, earning a sarcastic smile.

Once they had all finished, Dolls and Wynonna cleaned up while the others went off to their posts. Waverly grabbed the large baskets from the doorway and left the rest for Dolls. She went out towards the rising sun, checking the crops, seeing that her sister was right in saying that the blueberries were almost ready. She began to harvest the ripe ones, leaving behind the pink and purple berries. From that session of picking, she plucked over a hundred berries, making it now only barely over two-fifths of the projected yield so far, but good for midseason. She went back through, checking for the others she had missed.

Waverly walked over to the homestead again, continuing to the cooling room as she washed them and left them to dry. She came back inside, checking the time, three hours had passed. She sighed and washed the purple juice off of her hands, distracted until there was a firm knock on the door. Waverly walked over, thinking it was Dolls or Wyn accidentally locking themselves out. She opened the door, surprised to greet the shoulders of a tall and pale woman. Waverly looked up and met the kind brown eyes of the redheaded.

“Hi,” she quickly greeted in surprise.

“Hello ma’am, I’m here about farm work? I’m Nicole Haught.”

“Haught? Oh, sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone. Come in,” Waverly beckoned, moving out of the way.

The taller woman took off her leather jacket, holding it over her shoulder as she followed the owner inside. She looked around, smiling at the cute quaintness of the farmhouse. There were old crocheted blankets and embroidered throw pillows on the couch comfily decorating the living room. She noticed the pictures around the house. Most of them were recently taken with the owner and a few other people she suspected they worked or grew up with. They both sat down at the small dining table decorated with a simple plaid cloth where Waverly began to interview her.

“Really, I called yesterday morning? Are you Miss Wynonna Earp?” she inquired politely.

“Oh, no. I’m her sister Waverly. She must have forgotten,” she pleasantly smiled, settling into her chair. “Anyway, we plan to have you do mainly prep work for us, you know, working the grass fields for the winter. Help our goat handler, fetch water for the crops and animals. Are you planning on living here or off-site?”

“Off-site. What would my hours be, ma’am?”

“7am-5pm, 8 hours of work with two one hour breaks whenever, Monday thru Friday. Pay will be $13.60 per hour, so $1360 for your biweekly paycheck.”

“Sounds great. So, when would I begin?” she smiled, resting her arms on the table.

“Work begins in four days. We’ll need some time to file the paperwork and get it approved.”

“Okay, thank you, ma’am.”

Waverly smiled and walked off to grab the employment papers from Wynonna’s desk. She returned a moment later with them and a pen, pulling them away for a second to ask, “Wait, you’re not a murderer right?”

Nicole glanced at her in shock and sincerely answered, “Well… no, of course not, Ms. Earp.”

Waverly only smiled, making her new coworker relax, and turned the papers around for Nicole to fill out. She watched the young woman intently read the contract before signing with her neat and curly calligraphy. “Nicole Haught. Perfect,” Waverly thought.

Nicole sat up straight and gave the contract and pen back. “Thank you. You won't regret this,” she finished with a genuine smile.

“We need another girl on the team. Even better when there’s someone as muscled as you. Have you worked on a farm before?”

“Yes, I grew up on a ranch, so I worked there until I was 19,” she divulged, relaxing back into the chair as she studied the bright woman in front of her. Nicole watched as her eyes flicked from her to the contract spread out in front of her, then back up to the redhead. Her hands sorted through Nicole’s papers before she continued to ask her questions.

“What animals?”

“Horses, chickens, and geese.”

“Perfect.”

Waverly watched as the young woman stood, quickly going to let her out, opening the door with a smile. She looked outside to catch her sister gawking over the bike by the homestead. Nicole looked at her, squinting to see who it was.

“That’s Wynonna.” she introduced.

Her sister glanced up at the sound of her name and asked, “Who’s bike is this?”

“Mine,” Nicole answered.

“This. Is. Beautiful. Where’d you get this, what’s her name, how much was it?” she asked in a flurry of excitement.

“Detroit, America. Black Beauty, or Beauty. A little more than $7k US.”

“Oh my god,” she continued to gawk, “Wait, why Detroit?”

“Cheaper from the source.”

“Hmm,” Wynonna answered, looking at the shiny black bike. “Impressive. Hired.”

“Oh, I’m-”

“A little sarcasm, she’s just being a mechanophile,” Waverly interrupted.

“Oh okay,” Nicole chuckled, watching the older woman gaze at her beautiful bike. She put on her helmet and mounted it.

“See you on Monday, Ms. Earp,” Nicole winked to them, starting the bike and driving off.

“We need to file that paperwork now,” Wynonna said.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nicole woke to the low southern twang of a country singer, ringing through her deep slumber. With the paperwork filled out and her new boss’s updates, the young rancher took up her new tasks with a revitalized gusto she hadn’t felt for a long while. She needed this new job to distract her from the boring hermit tasks of the day that had recently plagued her life after she had finished her degree. Living an hour out of Purgatory, Nicole took to the kitchen, fixing a small breakfast of grits and sandwiches before finishing the other menial work like feeding her long-haired orange pain in the ass, Calamity Jane before escaping the small apartment in Calgary. As she took the early morning commute to the Earp’s homestead, Nicole couldn’t help but think about the quirky Earps and their goat farm, an animal she now could understand such a unique pair of sisters caring for.

“So the newbie starts today?” Dolls asked, wiping his mouth.

“Yup, Nicole, she seems like a hard worker,” Waverly answered.

“Will she live out here?”

“Nope, you two scared her off,” Wynonna sarcastically claimed.

Doc finished first, placing his dishes in the sink before leaving out the back to start loading up the truck. Dolls and Wynonna followed suit, leaving Waverly to clean everything up as she waited for their new worker. She looked over at the clock now showing 6:45 on the face and peered past the kitchen wall to check if Nicole had arrived yet. When she walked out of the house, Wynonna and Dolls were already going out to their posts while Waverly left for the barn to perform her menial task of checking on the goats before letting them out to pasture.

On her way back, she spotted Black Beauty racing over the hill. Checking her watch, the young Earp noted her perfect punctuality, regarding her new farmhand as she dismounted her bike and rested it right in front of the porch of the homestead. Nicole removed her helmet and set it on the ground behind Beauty, shaking out her hair to fix the short red locks as she approached her boss.

“Sorry, hi Nicole,” Waverly quickly greeted with a firm handshake.

“Good morning Ms. Earp, so, where do I start?” she politely inquired.

“Ready to work, nice. Well, the grass is perfect for cutting, so I’ll need you to do that, then stack it, please. Once you’re done, ask Doc in the barn or me in the fields behind the house if you can help. Doc takes care of the goats and around this time of year we weed out the ones that are ready for the house.”

“Okay,” she confirmed, catching the bright tone in those final morbid words.

“You know how to use a scythe right?” Waverly asked, walking towards the field

“Like, the old style?”

“Well yeah, modern made, not an old, you know, rusty one from the 1700s, but still a scythe,” Waverly awkwardly explained. She sighed with a smile and continued, “Let me show you where the tools are.”

After a few grueling hours, the field was cut and the browned grass had been layered across the ground to dry. Nicole set the scythe down and began towards the homestead to grab a drink before returning to the homestead for a bite and nip. Once inside, she spotted Waverly by the sink washing some berries.

“Ms. Earp,” she greeted with a nod.

“Haught,” the other farmer greeted.

Nicole refilled her bottle, “Just taking a quick break. Do you need help in the fields?”

“Wait, did you already finish in the grass?”

“Yes.”

“And scattered it to dry?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nicole proudly nodded.

“Fast work, well done.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“That’s really impressive for two hours,” Waverly complimented. “I was never able to do it that fast. But then again, I enjoyed washing and shearing the goats more than the ag stuff.”

Nicole nodded in agreement, “So, this is a family farm?”

“Yup. My great-great-grandpa started the farm as a side job from being a for-hire officer.”

“Wow, so why goats?”

“Small and versatile.”

“What do you mean?” Nicole asked drinking from her bottle again.

“Well, you can eat them, drink them, wear them, and work them. Cows are drinkable, edible, and wearable, but not really workable as well as they’re large and require a lot of land compared to goats.”

“When did you switch?”

“Back when Grandpa Edwin ran this homely land,” Waverly playfully informed her, “Did you grow up in the area?”

“No, I’m from the outskirts of Calgary.”

“Oh, I love Calgary!” she beamed. “It’s so beautiful and exciting!”

Nicole couldn’t help but smile at her colleague's genuine interest in her. “Yeah, a lot happens there but definitely a nice mix of rural and city life.”

“My ex-boyfriend brought me up to the zoo there. I absolutely adored the reptile exhibit.”

“Reptiles?”

“Yeah, you know, exotic creatures from around the world.”

“I always loved the aviary exhibit. They’re so beautiful. So, you’re a bit of an adventurous soul, are you ma’am?”

“Yes, well, I’ve always enjoyed traveling, but the farm keeps me grounded.” Waverly smiled and looked out at the barn before pulling her gaze back to the farmhand, “I hope I’m not prying by asking you this, but… nevermind.”

“What?” Nicole gently pressed.

“Nevermind, it’s a stupid question,” she sputtered out as she tried to cover up her mistake.

Nicole rolled her eyes and gently asked, “There’s not much that offends me, ma’am. What is it?”

Waverly awkwardly sighed and asked, “Are you… gay?”

“Well, first day and already hitting the personal questions.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”

“Yeah, you shouldn't’ve,” Nicole began screwing the top back on her water bottle, “but you did, so I’ll answer. Yes, ma’am, I am in fact gay.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

Waverly bit her lip feeling completely stupid and yet, curiosity still flared beneath the naive surface of her question. “You must get asked that often, sorry…”

“Not really.”

“I’m sorry. Um, Doc will need help in the barn, so you can help him there, I’m almost finished in the fields,” she tried to smooth things over.

“Yes, ma’am.” Nicole walked out of the cramped house to join Holliday.

She walked to the creaky building to find Doc at the doorway watching the goats as he smoked a hand-rolled cigarette, hie tilted down a bit to block the sun. He glanced up at the new worker and smiled below that dark thick mustache.

“Good morning,” he greeted in a very thick southern accent. “You must be Nicole.”

“And you’re Doc?”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he nodded as he stood up to shake her hand.

“I was wondering if you needed help.”

“For now, I just need to refill some of the water troughs. You can help me, but after that, there’s nothing else to do.”

“Okay.”

Nicole followed him to the well and began pumping water into the buckets, lugging them back to the barn as they each took turns dumping the water into the troughs. Nicole smiled again as the kids nudged into her while she walked. She laughed as she and Doc dumped water into the last trough. He was an unassuming man, Nicole pieced, and a big softy by the way he cared for the younger livestock. In the brief time of working with him, he was a gentleman, something Nicole had misjudged as being an act from his style and sound.

“Do you guys have a hay baler?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s in the back by the truck, just hook it up to the ol’ tractor and drive it to the field. Turn it on and you’ll be good to go.”

“Thank you Doc,” Nicole finished, turning on her heels to ask, “So, why Doc?”

“Just my childhood nickname,” he wistfully smiled.

Nicole smiled at his brief but predictable answer and walked back to the fields where Waverly said she would be. She looked for the young Earp amongst the bushes and approached her as she stood up.

“Hey, you need help?” Nicole called out to her.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” she absentmindedly answered. “Yeah. I mean no. Sorry. Did you finish helping Doc?”

“Yes ma’am. Now just waiting for the grass to dry before I rotate and dry it again.” Nicole watched for a moment, the awkward silence filling the void that was once full of eager interest in one another. “Would you want to join me for a lunch break, ma’am?”

“Sure, I’m finishing up on the second round of blueberries today, so I can take a short break right now. I don’t have a helmet, though,” Waverly told her. “Oh, wait, Wynonna does.”

“She has a bike, too?”

“Yeah, it’s our uncle’s.”

“Perfect. So, is there anywhere to have a nip this early in the afternoon?”

“There’s this local bar in the town center, Shorty’s,” Waverly suggested with a smile.

“Sounds great.”

“It is,” she said going off to store the berries.

Waverly quickly finished her task and joined Nicole for their thrilling adventure. Her farmhand pulled on her helmet and slapped the visor down to protect her eyes from the sun then sat still for Waverly to climb on. She tentatively put her hands on Nicole’s shoulders, then slid them to her waist as they drove off. Nicole sped to the town center, the wind whipping past their bodies as they broke through the countryside. The rolling hills looked even more majestic at high speeds, and with the cloudy day, partial shadows were cast over the grass in long streaks while low winds combed over the untamed reeds. The land flattened again as she approached the main street paved through archaic shops meant to preserve the Old West. They finally happened upon Shorty’s, hard to miss by the large sign outlined in lights, and dismounted the bike, Waverly led the way to the old bar. When they walked in, almost everyone greeted the young heir.

“You seem quite popular,” Nicole commented

“I used to work here part-time,” she explained as they found a spot at the bar.

“Barmaid?”

“Waitress because I wasn’t old enough to sell alcohol,” she explained, catching the attention of the current woman presiding over the saloon.

“Waverly, how are you, sweetie?” Gus greeted.

“I’m doing really well, could we have two of the house ale?”

“Oh, just one,” Nicole interrupted, “I’ll just have pop, thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem,” she nodded as she poured out two small glasses and slid them over to the farmers before attending to the other patrons.

“That’s Gus, she’s my aunt. Curtis and his friend, Shorty, own this place.”

“It’s nice. Is that why you’re very popular?”

“Not the only other reason why,” Gus cut in with a slight smile as she cleaned a few glasses within earshot.

“That doesn’t matter, not really,” Waverly instantly intervened.

“So, who are you?” she directed towards the new farmhand.

“I’m Nicole Haught, new to the Earp farm, ma’am,” she said with a smile.

“It’s great to see people still wanting to work there. I always told Waverly that she should have traveled, she’s a free spirit.”

“But we need to keep our feet on the ground,” she intervened again.

“You’re too smart for Purgatory, Waves. You deserve more than this town than that farm,” Gus berated, leaving to serve another customer.

Nicole looked at Waverly, head cocked to the side in curiosity. “What does she mean by not the only reason you’re popular?”

“My great-great-grandpa was Wyatt Earp. He owned that small farm and raised his family there.”

“The Wyatt Earp? I thought I recognized your last name.”

“Yup,” Waverly smile, sighing as she looked down at her drink.

“So exploring the world was on your bucket list?”

“Yeah, but it was only a dream. Have you explored outside of Canada?”

“I have and I have to say that once you explore the world, you’re excited at first, but then find that it’s not what you expected because of all of the issues you find at home you find everywhere else, just with a different mask. It’s better to learn about the world slowly so there’s always more to see, more to do, more to… feel.” Nicole said drinking from her cup.

“Wow, were you a philosophy major?” Waverly asked.

“I always enjoyed philosophy, but I actually majored in justice and law,” Nicole casually joked.

“Wow, any idea of what you’d do?”

“Become an officer, maybe, or become a detective. Though for now, I’m working on a goat farm for a charming lady and her bike-loving older sister.”

“Thank you,” Waverly bashfully accepted. “Why not go straight into the force?”

“Well, I wanted to take a while off to get settled again before I have to go to the academy.”

“Why law enforcement?”

“I wanted to be one of the good cops. I want to improve our system by seeing and experiencing how it works from the inside.”

“How noble,” Waverly carefully considered.

Nicole blushed and glanced away, drinking from her glass. “I’m glad that we have this time to talk.”

“Me too,” Waverly agreed.

They watched as the hour passed with only a few lapsing moments of silence, seemingly having forgotten about the awkward question that briefly made Nicole wish she had taken a different job. The two women walked out of the bar, mounting Beauty, and headed back to the homestead. Nicole left first to continue her work in the fields where she began to flip the grass. The hard labor proved to be more mindless than she had originally planned, spending most of the time recounting her small excursion with Waverly.

Once she finished the work, Nicole walked to the fields behind the house where Waverly said she would be and called out, “Miss Earp, would you like me to help?”

“Yes, please,” she called back. “I need to pick the strawberries now, they just all popped. You know how to pick these, right?” Waverly asked, wiping her fingers off on the red and purple-stained rag.

“Do they just fall off?”

“Not really,” she corrected, handing her a spare pair of clippers from the basket. “We pick them when they’re a bit green still and what ones that are too ripe we sell in town or keep for ourselves.”

Nicole knelt down next to her and began to pick the ripe red berries from the bush, gently dropping them into the basket. There must have been three fifty meter rows of strawberry bushes and another three rows of blueberries Waverly had picked earlier. They worked quickly and diligently, hoping to be able to rest for the remaining portion of their workday. The two women picked the berries side by side, talking as they worked.

“So, books or video games,” Waverly randomly asked.

“It depends,” she methodically began, “I like books a bit more but I also enjoy a well-written game, too.”

“Okay. What kind of books do you like to read, then?”

“I enjoy Sue Grafton or a well thought out novel about ancient history.”

“Really?” Waverly asked excitedly. “So, which ancient society do you believe really pushed the progression of man?”

Nicole smirked at her excitement and thoughtfully answered, “The Sumerians. With a very intricate religious system copied by the Babylonians and Egyptians which was copied by the Greeks and Romans, as well as a simple written system, I think that they really did aid in the formative years for mankind. What do you think, ma’am?”

“Wow,” Waverly murmured in awe of Nicole’s genuine interest and knowledge. She bit her lip and asked, “What about women in history, which do you believe was the most progressive?”

Nicole perked up an eyebrow about the subject, finding it an interesting one to compare with ancient societies. “Oh, I think either the Sumerians- again- or maybe Ancient East Africa because of the matriarchal rule in some tribes. Well, now that I think about it, definitely the Sumerians because there was a woman leader who is regarded positively and women could be equal to men if they tried unlike many cultures, ancient or modern” Waverly just looked at the young worker and smiled. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

“Yes, yeah, I’ve just never met anyone so passionate about history. Everyone here is either a local running their own shop or working on their farm, so there aren’t a lot of people who like to talk about history for fun. Usually, it’s because it’s their homework… and they’re just asking for their homework.”

“Well, I’m glad that you approve of my overall nerdiness, Ms. Earp,” Nicole sarcastically engaged.

“Gosh, I embrace it with all of my heart because I'm not the only nerdy person in town now.”

Haught continued to smile as they went back to work, feeling her employer’s eyes on her every moment or so. Whenever she caught her eye, a light blush would cover her cheeks in an instant and she would go back to her task. As they finished the final row of strawberries, Nicole glanced at her watch seeing that she still had two hours left on the clock.

She excused herself and went to retrieve the small green tractor, connecting it to their old baler. The young farmhand drove to the front of the lot and hopped out to bring the hay together in individual rows. She then got back on the tractor and slowly drove over the mounds of grass as they collected and ultimately turned into seven dense round bales. She drove the tractor back, taking everything apart when she spotted Waverly in the house beckoning her inside. Nicole approached the manor, brushing off all of the excess grass, and walked in.

“Hey, you busy?” her employer asked

“I just have to bring in the hay, but other than that, no, ma’am.”

“Just wondering. I can help you,” Waverly offered.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Nicole accepted, pulling her gloves on again as she led the way to the field.

They each grabbed a bale and walked to the barn where Doc must have been on a break as the goats meandered the fields to drink and graze, pushing through one another. The farmers dropped the bales on the ground and began traveling back and forth for the remaining ones. After the last drop off, Waverly climbed up the ladder to the storage space with other extra bales.

“What was your aunt saying about you moving on?” Nicole asked as she tossed a bale up to her.

“Well,” Waverly huffed as she caught it. “I was a history and linguistics major, nothing like Wynonna or anyone else in the family. Gus has been trying to get me on a different track ever since my dad passed away. She even helped me through college.”

“Why did you decide to stay, if you don’t mind me asking, ma’am?”

“This is my home, and when Wynonna left I took care of this place with Uncle Curtis, just to get by. I found happiness here. Peace,” Waverly simply added, catching the last bale and setting it down. “Love.”

“Ms. Waverly Earp,” she beckoned, climbing up the ladder, “why did my sexuality matter to you?” Nicole only earned a defiant sigh and she pushed herself onto the deck.

She merely looked at Nicole as she tried to put her thoughts in order as quickly as she could while the worker encroached upon her. “Close enough to touch,” she thought to herself. A foot apart, Waverly gazed up slightly to study Nicole’s features before nervously breaking their connection with a soft sigh.

“I’m not really great with words,” Waverly tried to explain away, “You know what, pretend I didn’t say anything, Nicole.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I really don’t think that’s possible,” she bluntly stated.

Waverly bit the inside of her lip as she tried to fight off the urge to do or say anything out of line, especially when her counterpart was so formal. “Nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she tried, nudging her coworker aside by the waist before she descended the ladder.

“Waverly,” she called down to her, “I apologize if I have been out of line in any way.”

“I’ve been out of line, Nicole,” the young caretaker affirmed as the barn doors opened.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Doc greeted, a fresh smoke peeking out from under his mustache.

“Hey, Doc,” Waverly quickly smiled, walking past him.

Once out of earshot, Nicole approached him to ask, “Is she usually like this?”

Doc tucked the unlit cigarette behind his ear and shrugged, “Like what?”

“Awkward.”

“I guess sometimes? The best thing to do with these Earps is to let them defuse in solitude rather than intervene,” he informed her. “Thank you for the hay.”

“No problem, Doc,” she nodded, following Waverly to the homestead.

“I mean it, Haught,” he warned her. “Leave it be.”

“I still have an hour left.”

“I have to herd the goats in if you want to help, that’ll eat up a good fifteen,” he asked, lighting the end of his tab.

#wayhaught fanfic #wayhaught #waverly earp #nicole haught #femslash #wlw #lgbt #sfw #sfwfic #wynonna Earp #AU #Farm au

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