#immigration office near me

[immigrationconsultantsinpunjab]

Immigration Office in Chandigarh: A Comprehensive Guide to Spousal Open Work Permit Process for Canada

Welcome to the ultimate guide on navigating the Immigration Office in Chandigarh, specifically focusing on the Spousal Open Work Permit Process for Canada. For individuals embarking on the journey of immigration, particularly to Canada, understanding the intricacies of the immigration process is vital. The Immigration Office in Chandigarh plays a pivotal role in facilitating this process, especially concerning spousal open work permits. In this comprehensive blog, we'll delve into the various aspects of obtaining a spousal open work permit for Canada through the lens of the Chandigarh Immigration Office. From eligibility criteria to the application process and essential documents required, let's embark on this informative journey together.

Understanding the Spousal Open Work Permit:

Before delving into the specifics of the process at the Immigration Office in Chandigarh, it's crucial to grasp the concept of a spousal open work permit. A spousal open work permit is issued to the spouse or common-law partner of a temporary foreign worker or international student in Canada. This permit allows the spouse or partner to work for any employer in Canada without the need for a confirmed job offer.

Eligibility Criteria:

The first step in obtaining a spousal open work permit is to ensure eligibility. The eligibility criteria typically include:

Spousal Relationship: The applicant must be legally married to or in a common-law relationship with a temporary foreign worker or international student in Canada.

Valid Temporary Resident Status: The spouse or partner in Canada must hold a valid temporary resident status, such as a work permit, study permit, or visitor visa.

Admissibility: The applicant must be admissible to Canada, which entails meeting health and security requirements.

Proof of Relationship: Documentation proving the genuine nature of the spousal relationship, such as marriage certificates, photographs, joint bank accounts, etc., may be required.

Application Process at the Immigration Office in Chandigarh:

Once eligibility is established, the next step is to initiate the application process at the Immigration Office in Chandigarh. The process typically involves the following steps:

Gather Required Documents: Compile all necessary documents, including marriage certificates, passports, photographs, proof of relationship, and any other supporting documentation as per the checklist provided by the Immigration Office.

Complete Application Forms: Fill out the relevant application forms accurately. This may include forms specific to spousal open work permits and general immigration forms.

Pay Application Fees: Pay the applicable processing fees for the spousal open work permit application. Fees may vary and are subject to change, so it's essential to verify the current fee structure.

Submit Application: Submit the completed application forms along with the required documents to the Immigration Office in Chandigarh either in person or by mail.

Biometrics and Medical Examination: Depending on the specific requirements, applicants may need to undergo biometric data collection and/or medical examinations.

Wait for Processing: Once the application is submitted, it undergoes processing by the immigration authorities. Processing times may vary, so it's advisable to check the current processing times regularly.

Receive Decision: Upon completion of the processing, the applicant will receive a decision regarding the spousal open work permit application. If approved, the permit will be issued, allowing the spouse or partner to work in Canada.

Important Considerations:

Throughout the application process, several important considerations must be kept in mind:

Timeliness: It's essential to submit the application and required documents accurately and promptly to avoid delays in processing.

Accuracy: Ensure that all information provided in the application forms is accurate and up-to-date to avoid any discrepancies or issues during processing.

Communication: Maintain open communication with the Immigration Office in Chandigarh regarding any updates or additional information required for the application.

Legal Assistance: Consider seeking legal assistance or guidance from immigration consultants or lawyers specializing in Canadian immigration to navigate the process effectively.

Conclusion:

Navigating the Immigration Office in Chandigarh for the spousal open work permit process for Canada can be a complex yet rewarding endeavor. By understanding the eligibility criteria, application process, and essential considerations outlined in this guide, individuals can embark on this journey with confidence. Remember, thorough preparation, attention to detail, and adherence to guidelines are key to a successful application experience. As you navigate the process, remember to stay informed, seek assistance when needed, and look forward to the opportunities that await in Canada for you and your loved ones.

[cwimmigration]

In recent years, Canada has emerged as a beacon of opportunity, attracting individuals from around the globe with its thriving economy, high quality of life, and inclusive society. For many, the dream of living and working in Canada is not only about personal fulfillment but also about building a better future for their families. However, navigating the intricacies of the Canadian immigration system can be daunting, especially when it comes to securing work permits for spouses and visitor visas for parents. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the processes and requirements for obtaining a spouse open work permit and a visitor visa for parents, shedding light on key aspects and providing valuable insights for a smoother immigration journey.

Understanding Spouse Open Work Permits:

For individuals who are already in Canada on a study or work permit, the prospect of having their spouse join them can be a crucial factor in their decision to settle in the country long-term. The spouse open work permit serves as a pathway for spouses of temporary residents in Canada to work legally in the country. Unlike other work permits, the spouse open work permit does not require a job offer from a Canadian employer, providing spouses with the flexibility to seek employment in their chosen field upon arrival in Canada.

[abolawfirm]

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[rongzhi]

A bit about Chuanqingren, one of the unofficial ethnic groups in China.

English added by me :)

Full video transcript below the cut:

Simply because these people are so rare, on cellphones and computers, there is no option to choose them. There’s no way to input them as an option.

As a result, often times when they go out, they will be questioned over having a fake ID. They’re not Miao, nor are they Han. And they’re certainly not any of the other 56 ethnic groups. In the 90s, they were designated as an unrecognised ethnic group (official designation). Their group is classified as Other. According to Ming Dynasty historical records, in earlier times, they were called “tu ren” (dirt people), “Li minzi” (～descendants of villagers), and also “xianmin”(羡） or “xianmin”（县） (~county people). Because their traditional clothing tends to be qing* colored (*may describe blue, green, or black), they’ve since been known as “chuanqing ren” (qing-wearing people). Early on, in the 1980s, there was already the write-in option of “qing group”. The first generation of resident IDs have “qingzu” printed on them.

Later, after many years of ethnic group discernment work, it was concluded that for the time being, they did not conform to China’s independent ethnic group determination standards. Therefore, they became recognised as “Chuanqingren”. Chuanqingren are mostly found in the northwest regions of Guizhou province. They use mandrills as their totem and their clothing tends to be qing. The qing color in question is a rather deep blue, one that near black.

There ware several explanations for the origins of Chuanqing people. One saying is that they are indigenous people of Guizhou. Another, more common explanation is that in the early Ming Dynasty, Yunnan’s king of Liang rebelled and Zhu Yuanzhang (Hongwu Emperor) dispatched 300k forces to consolidate the south. Then from south of the Changjiang, many immigrated to Guizhou and settled.

Historically it’s known as “transfer from the north, filling the south”, and Chuanqingren are simply the later generations of these soldiers and officers and immigrants to the south.

Now then the question comes: why are they only Chuanqing “people”, and not qing “ethnic group” or Chuanqing “ethnic group”?

Firstly, each ethnic group in our country has its own cultural/civilisation origins. For example, the Han ethnic group are the descendants of the Yellow Emperor and Flame Emperors. Therefore, they are also called “Yan Huang Zisun”(descendants of the Flame and Yellow Emperor).

Take for example the Miao ethnic group as well: The origins of the Miao ethnic group is that Chiyou led them in the alliance of the 9 Li tribes.

But Chuanqingren can’t find their origins. Most still simply say that they are a branch of the Han ethnic group. None of their special folk styles and customs have been completely preserved, including their language, which fewer and fewer of them are able to speak. Their clothing is even less common, which has led many to think that the clothing of the Tunpu people (another Han branch) of Anshun are that of Chuanqing people. As a result, many have taken Tunpu people as Chuanqing people.

In China, there are a lot of unique communities not within the 56 [official] ethnic groups. For example, the Mosuo people, the Kemu people, the Xia’erba people, the A’ke people, the Deng people, and more. The so-called “unrecognised” ethnic groups aren’t to say that their group’s identity can’t be distinguished. Rather, it’s that they still don’t meet our country’s criteria for judging independent ethnic groups. So, it’s only in order to reflect and affirm these unique communities that they are incorporated under the "not yet recognised” ethnic group.

In the multi-ethnic household of China, no matter which ethnic group, we all have a common name, and that is ”zhonghua minzu” (the people/nation of China). Do you identify with that? (Do you agree?)

[legalimmigration101]

Hispanic Legal Immigration Service | Immigration Services in La Mesa CA

Your go-to, ours is the most dependable and trustworthy Immigration Office in La Mesa CA; we have extensive knowledge about each stage of the application and petitioning process. With us, you will have a better chance of being approved because we know the immigration rules and regulations. We have years of experience and have provided Immigration Services in La Mesa CA, to hundreds of clients. We can help you select the best visa for your profile; we will help you navigate through all the paperwork. So, if you need our professional assistance, you should give us a call today.

[epaglobal124]

Immigration Office Canberra - Applying For a Visa

Whether you are travelling to Australia or you are planning to work or immigration office canberra you will need a visa. You can apply for a visa through your local Australian Embassy or Consulate. In some countries, a visa is required for all foreign nationals who are travelling abroad. If you are planning to travel to a country that requires you to have a visa, check the visa requirements with your travel agent or the nearest Embassy or Consulate.

In Australia, the Migration Program aims to fill labour market gaps. The Skilled Stream of the Migration Program is part of the program and consists of general skilled migration visas and employer-sponsored skilled migration visas. Skilled migrants include construction trade workers, medical professionals, IT professionals and engineers.

Applicants for skilled migration visas must meet certain criteria to qualify for the visa. For example, they must show 'competent English'. Applicants who intend to study overseas may also have to demonstrate a high level of proficiency in English. For trades-related occupations, the English language requirement has been increased to 'competent English'.

The Skilled Stream of the Migration Programme has seen a large increase in the number of applications for permanent visas in the past two years. In 2007-08, 108 500 permanent visas were granted under this stream. In the past two years, the Skilled Stream has also been expanded to include employer-sponsored skilled migration. It is estimated that the number of skilled migrants will increase by another 60,000 places in the 2010-11 Migration Program. The Skilled Occupation List (SOL) is expected to be expanded to include 181 occupations.

In the last two decades, skilled best migration agent Canberra has expanded to regional and rural areas of Australia, as well as to regional labour markets and economies. The Skilled Migration Program has evolved to meet the changing social and political needs of the day. It has also evolved to better reflect the shifting balance between the family and skilled streams.

The migration program is also responsible for sponsoring family members. Family members may include dependent children, aged dependent relatives, parents or carers. To apply for a visa, a family member must be sponsored by an Australian citizen or permanent resident. If you have questions about the family stream, you can visit the Immigration Resource Center or call the Australian High Commission. The Immigration Resource Center has information on all visas and citizenship matters, as well as translating services. In addition, it provides information on overseas travel and passports.

The Migration Program has undergone many changes in the past 65 years. It was created in 1945 to help attract workers to increase the population. The program has also changed to reflect changing ethnic composition of migrants and the needs of the labour market. The Migration Program has also undergone reforms in the aftermath of the Global Financial Crisis. For example, it has introduced a targeted skills-testing regime to ensure that migrants have the skills they need to participate in the labour market. It has also reformed the Skilled Occupation List (SOL).

In the 2010-11 migration agent near me Program, the number of general skilled places will be reduced by 3600 and there will be an increase of 5750 places in the Skilled Stream. These changes are intended to make the program more targeted and to increase the contribution of business migrants to Australia's economy. The changes will also increase the net assets required for business migration. To know more information visit at www.epaglobal.com.

[suzukiblu]

If you feel up for it, for the writing meme prompt, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, with the song You And Me by Lifehouse? If it's not your thing I totally get it though and hope you have a great time and fun writing the things that do catch your fancy!

I think we ALL knew that I was gonna do baby Kon for this, lbr. Also ngl, this came out way more cracky than the prompt would suggest it should've but it is absolutely my favorite thing I’ve written for this meme so far, as the necessity for the following cut should help attest, haha.

Unfortunately, Lex takes one look at Cadmus’s progress report on the newly-crafted Experiment Thirteen and realizes he has paternal instincts. 

Well, that’s inconvenient. And a little disgusting, honestly. Certainly a disappointment. 

He supposes it could be worse. He could be Lionel about this. 

Anyway, that’s how he has a physiological four year-old on his lap when he hears the news about Superman coming back to life and fistfighting an evil cyborg with his own face about it, because of course the man didn’t have the decency to just stay dead. Why would he, after all? 

Lex needs a drink. That would be a bad example for the physiological four year-old, though. 

Then again, Experiment Thirteen should be completely immune to the effects of Earth-based alcohol in about another four to six months of consistent yellow sun exposure, so . . . 

Lex is halfway through his second brandy when Superman shows up on his balcony at super-speed wearing a very pretentiously dramatic black suit and looking both winded and bewildered. And still alive, unfortunately. 

“Don’t you have a murderous cyborg to be ensuring is in custody?” Lex asks dryly, deciding to just not acknowledge the presence of the physiological four year-old who’s moved on to messily but methodically coloring on the floor underneath his desk. Lex didn’t actually give Experiment Thirteen either a coloring book or crayons, mind, but he appreciates the clone’s resourcefulness in breaking into the office supplies. Anyway, it’s useful for developing its hand-eye coordination and fine motor control. 

Superman’s pupils are pin-pricks, barely even there at all. Which is an unusual reaction from him, and Lex notes that fact reflexively but doesn’t particularly care about it. Meant-to-be-dead people do unusual things, especially the alien ones. And it isn’t as if–

“Baby,” Superman blurts, his eyes wide. 

Lex . . . pauses. Takes a slow sip of his brandy. 

Alright then. 

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” he settles on eventually, raising an eyebrow at him. Experiment Thirteen peers out from under the desk, immediately decides Superman isn’t an interesting presence, and then goes back to coloring all over Lex’s floor. It seems to be drawing either a puppy or a chain of complex genetic sequencing, but judging by the kinds of things it’s been drawing so far, it’s fifty-fifty. Lex has been getting the impression the clone actually likes art, which is a baffling interest to find in his own progeny, but how does that quote go . . . “I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet”? 

Or something like that, anyway. 

“No, I–baby,” Superman stresses, looking bewildered as he floats down a little closer to the open balcony door. 

“. . . yes, I’ve noticed,” Lex repeats, raising his eyebrow again and taking another sip of brandy. Superman looks frazzled, bobbing up a little higher in the air again to get a better view of Experiment Thirteen under the desk. Experiment Thirteen keeps ignoring him in favor of its coloring, displaying no apparent interest in the most powerful uninvited guest in the history of illegal immigration. Lex experiences a moment of overwhelming paternal pride, which is such a bizarre and unanticipated experience that he doesn’t even know what to do with it. 

“Where’d he come from?” Superman asks with a wondering expression. Ugh.

“A cloning lab,” Lex replies dismissively, setting his near-empty glass down on the desk. It’s hardly worth lying about Experiment Thirteen’s origins at this point. He didn’t want to murder everyone in Cadmus to keep the secret. He might need them if there’s an issue with Experiment Thirteen’s genetics later, after all. “We mixed it up a couple weeks ago while you were off wasting everyone’s time being dead."

“You had my baby?” Superman says, tilting in the air and still staring at Experiment Thirteen, as if he's somehow forgotten both how much kryptonite Lex owns and how much kryptonite he keeps specifically in this office. “While I was dead. You had my baby while I was dead.” 

. . . alright then, Lex thinks again, both eyebrows raising this time. 

“I really wouldn’t put it that way, personally,” he says. “Also, I don’t recall saying it was in any way yours.”

“Baby,” Superman repeats inanely, then lands on the floor and ducks down into a crouch to peer under the desk better, his pupils still reduced to barely-there pinpricks. Lex is so mystified he doesn't even activate the security system or the weaponized red sun lamps. Experiment Thirteen frowns at Superman–Lex, again, basks in unanticipated paternal pride–and then turns its back on him and hides all its drawings from him as seriously and carefully as if they were under NDA. 

It's almost adorable, frankly. 

Not that Lex finds things adorable, of course. 

“His heartbeat's so cute,” Superman says, looking absolutely fascinated. Which is surprisingly useful of him to mention, actually, since Lex had previously been vaguely concerned that Experiment Thirteen's odd thrumming heartbeat might be a sign of a heart defect, but apparently it’s just a Kryptonian thing. A . . . “cute” Kryptonian thing, according to Superman. 

Lex is increasingly mystified by this interaction. 

“Can’t say I’ve spent much time listening to it, personally,” he lies, because he has in fact obsessed over that heartbeat’s health and stability since first finding out about its unusualness and has done a truly aggravating amount of research into heart murmurs and conditions and the like. But that’s hardly Superman’s business, now is it. 

“. . . what’s his name?” Superman asks hesitantly. Lex is possibly having an out of body experience. 

“Experiment Thirteen,” he says. Superman immediately looks offended. 

“We need to give him a name, Lex,” he says. Lex, again, has an out of body experience. 

“‘We’?” he repeats incredulously. “I made it, I get to decide what it’s called.” 

“He’s got my DNA!” Superman protests, looking indignant. Lex has absolutely no idea how to process that expression. 

“It has both our DNA, in fact, yours was too irritating to stabilize alone,” Lex informs him dubiously. More accurately it was literally impossible to stabilize alone, but he’s not mentioning that to Superman. “So it has my DNA, and I made it. And also put eight point two billion dollars into its production, as a lowball estimate. Therefore I’m the one who decides what its name is, thank you very much.” 

“Lex,” Superman says disapprovingly. “You can’t call a baby Experiment Thirteen.” 

“It’s physiologically developed enough to complain if it doesn’t like it,” Lex retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. Superman frowns at him. Lex has never had a more ridiculous conversation with the man, including all the times Superman’s tried to appeal to his nonexistent “better nature”. “Well it is.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Superman says, then ducks back down and peers at Experiment Thirteen again, gentling his voice to address it while Lex is still incredulously mouthing “ridiculous”? to himself. “Would you like a real name, kiddo?” 

Experiment Thirteen sticks its tongue out at him. 

Lex is finding parenthood to be a very rewarding experience, actually. 

[mads-nixon]

Meine Liebe

Dick Winters x Translator!Reader

Masterlist

Request: @flowers-and-fichte Hey! Thanks for the Chuckler headcanons! They're so cute! I've got another request :) it's BoB-related this time. Winters with a reader who is fluent in German and teaches him to speak it. And then one day he surprises her by speaking it (wedding proposal, just starts talking in it out of nowhere, whatever) to her and it's so freaking cute. Thanks! Take your time :)

A/N: i loved this concept!! thanks for the request! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none!

When (y/n) first signed up to be an intelligence translator for the Airborne, she had no idea what was in store for her. Jumping out of planes was expected, but what she couldn’t have expected was a red-headed man named Dick Winters. Nix introduced them in Aldbourne when she joined the company, and something about the Pennsylvanian struck her differently than the other men she’d met. Most eyed her warily, but the man she met that day flashed her a kind smile and a firm handshake, sending an unexpected warmth through her. 

“So you’re our new interpreter,” he stated, his polite eyes never leaving hers as he shook her hand.

(Y/n) nodded, her lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, sir. (Y/n) (y/l/n).

“Dick Winters,” he replied, releasing her hand after a few moments. “Welcome to Easy. Please let me know if you need anything.”

Before she could respond, Nix called out to her. “We’ve gotta get to battalion, come on.”

With a final nod to Winters, she saluted and turned on her heel, walking over to Lew who was sitting in the driver's seat of a jeep. “So, you met Dick,” he announced, shifting the jeep into drive. “Whatcha think?”

(Y/n) scoffed lightly as she gazed at the rows and rows of tents that lined the airfield. “I only spoke like two sentences to him, Lew.”

Luckily, Lew and (y/n) grew up in neighboring towns in New Jersey and knew each other through mutual friends. Everyone knew the Nixons for their nitration plant that was in Edison, but (y/n) knew the Nixon boy as the teenager who took her best friend to the prom and got so drunk that he threw up on her beautiful blue dress. Betty still hadn’t gotten over it by the time (y/n) left for basic. 

“No sparks flying yet?” he grinned, elbowing her shoulder playfully as he drove. “Give it time. I know it will.”

“What is wrong with you, Lewis?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just met the guy! And we’re going off to war for Pete's sake, not some low-crawling pub where men are lined up to dance with me.”

Her job was to decode and translate intercepted German communications, as well as translate in the field and interrogate prisoners if need be. There were times when being the daughter of Austrian immigrants was awful, but other times, it came in handy. Without her parents teaching her their language, she wouldn’t be in her position in the Army. 

As the months passed in Aldbourne, (y/n) was swamped with intercepted communications, paperwork, and various intelligence reports. She rarely did anything other than work in her office, growing tiresome of the monotonous click-clack of the typewriter. What little time she did have outside the office was spent either visiting the Blue Boar with the other officers or quietly reading in the fields of wildflowers near her billet. 

The sun set perfectly on the lilies and colorful harebells, orchids, and cornflowers that were scattered among the grass. Any chance she got, she’d go lay out a blanket and get lost in the pages of “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” escaping the war as the words came to life in her mind. Time seemed to blur as the months stretched on in Aldbourne. 

With the follies of the Italian campaign, the Allies knew they had to try a different approach. Nixon and (y/n) had talked about the possible landing locations and tactics, but no plan was in motion quite yet. This did not stop them from preparing for the possibility. Easy’s training got increasingly realistic the further they got into 1944. By early February, Dick, Harry, and the other platoon leaders were brought in on the intelligence officers’ speculations. A few weeks later, (y/n) was working in her office when she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, not looking up from her typewriter as she finished a translation.

The door creaked open, and in walked Dick who was wringing his hat between his hands, almost as if he was nervous. “Hi, (y/n). Sorry to disturb you.”

Hearing his voice, (y/n) looked up from the paper, a small smile forming as she took in his timid expression. “Hi, Dick. You’re not disturbing me,” she said, pointing to the large stack of papers on the corner of her desk. “These aren’t going anywhere.”

Dick clasped his hands behind his back and walked closer to the desk. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

(Y/n) nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the extra chair beside her desk.

Dick sat down and continued. “Would you be able to teach me some basic German? I know that you are fluent in it, so-”

“Of course!” She interrupted, excitement lighting up her features. “I’d love to!”

Dick seemed surprised as he sheepishly smiled at her from across the desk. “It would be useful to know some phrases when we finally get into combat.”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

From that cold February day on, the pair met every Saturday night in (y/n)’s billet. Her host family, the Bennets, insisted on making a big family dinner every time (as large as they could with rationing), treating Dick as one of their own. (Y/n) watched from across the dining room table as he spoke to Mr. Bennet with a polite smile. The golden light from the setting sun filtered through the open blinds, highlighting the soft brown freckles that adorned his face. (Y/n) couldn’t help but admire his handsome features, a thought that she’d kept hidden mainly to keep Nix off her trail about the supposed ‘sparks’ that were supposed to fly between them at some point. 

“I was worried about you Yanks, but if they’re all like you lot, I think we’re in good shape,” Mr. Bennet laughed, scooping a forkful of roast into his mouth. 

Dick chuckled breathily, his eyes flitting to the (y/h/c) across from him, catching her staring red-handed. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his face warming under her gaze. 

After the dinner table was cleared, they continued their weekly tradition, sitting across from each other once again. “These are pretty basic, but they’re important,” she began, her eyes locking with his. Repeat after me. ‘Guten Abend.’”

Dick listened carefully, his eyes drifting down to her lips before echoing her pronunciation. “Guten Abend.”

“Very good,” (y/n) praised, her smile growing. “Now how about ‘Bitte’ which means ‘please,’ and ‘Danke,’ which means ‘thank you.’   

“Next, let’s learn ‘Wie geht es Ihnen?” (y/n) said, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “It means ‘How are you?’

As they repeated the words together, her beloved language created a unique connection between them that she never thought possible. It felt good to speak the language in situations other than wartime intelligence. As she taught Dick, she fell in love with her family’s native tongue all over again, but that love wasn’t the only thing blossoming in the cozy dining room.

Under the shade of a sturdy tree in the Bennet’s backyard, the late afternoon sun cast a glow over the yard. (Y/n) and Dick sat side by side, leaning against the trunk as they took a short break from their lesson.

(Y/n’s eyes began to droop, fatigue creeping in like a silent intruder. The lines of exhaustion were etched beneath her eyes, and Dick couldn’t help but notice her weariness. 

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, leaning closer to her, his brow furrowed in concern.

She sat up straighter, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” she admitted, her voice a soft murmur.

Dick turned to her with eyes filled with worry. “Up late doing translations?”

(Y/n) nodded, her shoulders sliming slightly. “Yes,” she sighed, leaning her head back against the hard tree bark. “We’re getting more and more communications every day. It’s hard to keep up.”

Seeing her struggle, Dick scooted closer to her and paused before gesturing to his lap. “Here,” he suggested, his tone gentle. “It’s more comfortable than a tree,”

A small, tired smile crossed (y/n)’s face as she responded with a weary, “Yes, sir,” She laid her head on his lap, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. 

Dick felt a warm, protective swell of emotion as she nestled into his lap. Her presence, despite her exhaustion, brought a sense of peace and contentment he hadn’t realized he was missing. He could always show up at her door and have dinner like there wasn’t a war going on. Their routine had developed into what he looked forward to the most as the week went on. Any conversations they managed to have during their daily regimens and workload were filled with smiles and talks of the upcoming weekend, Saturday’s dinner menu, and other little things that reminded him of home. 

A soft pink tinge rose from Dick’s neck to his cheeks as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Better?” he inquired, his voice a soothing, gentle rumble.

(Y/n) let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispered, “Yes, thank you, Dick. I needed this.”

He watched over her with a mix of concern and affection, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder. “You’ll work yourself to death in that office, (y/n).”

She squinted one eye open, her gaze focused on him. “I know,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with desperation, “I can’t rest knowing my family is still stuck there, Dick.”

The lieutenant’s eyes saddened, his heart aching at the raw pain in her voice. He moved his hand from her shoulder to rub her hair back gently. “In Austria?”

(Y/n) nodded, her voice hushed and heavy with emotion. “Yeah,” she murmured, blinking to combat the tears that were filling her eyes. “My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…they all stayed. They’re still there, and we haven’t heard from them in almost a year.”

“So you’re doing this for them.”

“For them and all the other innocent people whose lives have been torn apart by Hitler,” she confessed, her voice wavering.

A tear trickled down the side of her cheek, and she felt a warm hand wipe it away gently. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground, sweetheart,” Dick murmured softly, the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it. “When we finally do see action, you won’t be a hundred percent if you’re constantly running on fumes.”

She let out a shuddering breath, her emotions overwhelming her. (Y/n) sat up, shifting to bury her face into Dick’s shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. His arms encircled her, pulling her into his side as he rubbed his hand soothingly along her back.

“Please take care of yourself. If not for them, do it for me. Please,” he whispered into her hair.

As the evening sun bathed them in a warm light, (y/n) pulled back from their embrace, her tear-filled eyes glistening with gratitude and adoration. She gazed into Dick’s calming, emerald-green eyes, vulnerability seeping from her. His eyes mirrored her intensity, and a soft, affectionate smile played on his lips. With her heart pounding in her chest, (y/n) brought her hand up to his cheek, her fingers tracing the contours of his skin with a gentle, trembling touch.

Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a powerful connection was forged. Slowly and with a sense of natural ease, she pulled him closer, guiding him toward her. Dick, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected tenderness of her actions, felt the soft, deliberate pressure of (y/n)’s lips against his. Their lips met, and their connection deepened as their mouths moved together, a tender and affectionate expression of their feelings. Their kiss was a gentle exchange of affection, an unspoken testament to the emotions that had quietly grown between them.

As (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their tender kiss, their actions spoke volumes in the quiet of that moment. Their lips slowly parted, the sensation of their kiss still lingering in the air like a sweet, unspoken promise. They looked into each other’s eyes, their gazes locked in a lingering connection that was filled with understanding. (Y/n) inched back slightly, her touch soft and tender as her fingers gently brushed over the freckles on Dick’s cheek as she withdrew from their intimate embrace. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice a gentle murmur, sniffling slightly as she rested her forehead against his. Dick’s heart raced, and he could feel her warm breath on his face. 

“They’ll be proud of you. I’m sure of it.”

MAY 7, 1944: BERCHTESGADEN, AUSTRIA

(Y/n) reclined on a wooden, sun-soaked deck chair, gazing out at the breathtaking landscape of the Bavarian Alps that stretched before her. The mountains stood tall and majestic, their peaks kissing the cloudless sky. She felt a sense of awe at the natural wonder surrounding her.

Harry sat at the end of her chair, and Ron and Nix were sitting on the one beside them, all three drunk as a skunk. Their voices filled the air with drunken excitement, and their ramblings brought a wide smile to (y/n)’s face.

Nix groaned in good-humored frustration, raising his fingers in a futile attempt to count off the main leaders of the Nazi party. “Hitler, Hitler…no.”

Rolling his eyes, Ron chimed in, his voice louder as they spoke over each other, creating a chaotic atmosphere. “Hitler, Himmler, Goering-”

“And Goebbels,” Harry finished, his grin infectious as he completed the list.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh heartily, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched her friends stumble through their banter. The joy of the moment, the beauty of the scenery, and the relief from no constant action and danger all combined to create a warmth in her heart that was impossible to contain.

“I’m so glad I get to see this,” she wheezed between fits of laughter, her hand clutching her stomach as another wave of cackles escaped her. 

The sound of footsteps made her turn, and she saw Dick approaching with Lip. She smiled at him, her heart beating slightly faster when he returned a wink. 

“Hey, Adolf! Love your Eagle’s Nest,” Harry yelled, standing up wobbly and grabbing Dick’s shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind. We made ourselves at home. Love what you’ve done with the place here.”

(Y/n) chortled again, earning an amused look from Dick, who found the whole situation hilarious. But he had more important news to share.

Welsh grabbed a bottle of champagne and held it out for the major. “Hey, have a drink. Come on. Just so we can say we saw you do it,” he implored, staring for a moment as Dick didn’t respond. 

Smirking, (y/n) rose from her chair and gracefully pushed the bottle back toward Harry as she moved to stand between him and Dick. “You drink it, Welshy.”

Welsh retracted his hand, standing there for a moment like a pouting child, while Dick, who had patiently waited, pulled out a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and started to speak, his gaze warm as he looked down at (y/n) beside him. “Listen up. From Corps, it just came in. Effective immediately, all troops standing fast on present positions.”

Nix rested his hands behind his head as he lay on the chair with a smirk. “Standing fast.”

Ron, his usually sharp eyes now glazed over from the alcohol, looked up and asked. “What does that mean?”

(Y/n) ran a hand down her face with a giggle. Her laughter was infectious, and the group chuckled, with Dick’s laughter being the loudest. His smile was the widest she’d seen in months, and the sight stirred something within her. 

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked the group as he wrapped an arm around (y/n)’s shoulder. 

Harry nodded, grunting in reply, and Dick repeated the sound, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Are you ready for it? Listen up, the German Army surrendered.”

The news sent a sudden hush through the group, and the jovial atmosphere vanished, replaced by a solemn and reverent feeling that settled inside each of them. (Y/n) looked up at Dick, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Really?” she whispered, her voice filled with hope.

Dick nodded and squeezed her shoulder softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. They did.”

In that instant, she couldn’t contain her joy. She flung her arms around his shoulders, squealing happily, and he snaked his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. The weight of the past years seemed to lift, replaced by a hope of peace in Europe for people like her family who were caught in the crossfire of war. As they pulled back from their hug, the sheer happiness of the moment made (y/n)’s eyes glisten with tears. Around them, the other officers were clapping each other on the back and expressing their own gratitude that victory in Europe had been achieved.

With a soft smile, Dick placed a hand on her lower back and led her to a farther part of the balcony, giving them privacy from prying eyes. He could see the curiosity in her eyes and as they found a quiet corner, he spoke in a hushed tone. “I got word today, (y/n). About your family.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation, and her heart raced. “My family? Where are they? She asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear. 

Dick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her the support she needed to hear the news. “They’re alive, (y/n). They’re living in Salzburg.”

The emotion she’d swallowed down came flying back, and tears welled up in her eyes again as her voice trembled with relief. “Salzburg? Oh, thank God,” she croaked.

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, and the tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around Dick, hugging him tightly once again. It was a cry of pure relief, a release of tension that had gripped her heart for so long. 

Dick held her close, his own emotions stirred by the moment. He could feel her relief, his arms wrapped around her as he gently stroked her back. The news also meant that they were one step closer to going home. One step closer to spending the rest of their lives together.  

In the midst of the moment, (y/n) looked up at Dick, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. Her soft voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke. “I love you, Dick.”

Their eyes locked in a tender, unspoken understanding as Dick leaned down to cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “I love you, too, (y/n).”

The mountains of Berchtesgaden stood as silent witnesses to what was about to transpire. It was the perfect setting for a moment they would cherish forever. As they stood there, Dick took (y/n)’s hand in his, his gaze unwavering as he looked deep into her eyes. With a smile, he began to speak…but it wasn’t English.

“Meine Liebe, du weißt, ich bin nicht der Beste im Umgang mit Worten, aber ich liebe dich mehr als das Leben selbst. Ohne dich hätte ich das nicht überstanden und ich möchte nie wieder ohne dich sein,” he began, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

My love, you know I'm not the best with words, but I love you more than I love life itself. I wouldn't have gotten through this without you, and I don’t want to be without you ever again.

(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise and joy. She blinked in disbelief, her heart skipping a beat.

“Willst du meine Frau werden?” Dick continued.

Will you marry me?

A gasp escaped (y/n)’s lips as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and her heart swelled. Dick got down on one knee, his eyes filled with a softer determination than the one she saw in his eyes on the battlefield. He reached into his OD pocket and pulled out a small, elegant ring.

In a voice filled with emotion, he asked, “Möchtest du mein leben mit mir teilen?”

Will you share your life with me?

Tears streamed down (y/n)’s face as she nodded vigorously, unable to speak through her overwhelming joy. She held out her hand, and Dick slid the ring over her finger. It fit perfectly, just as they did in each other's lives.

With a smile that held all the love in the world, he whispered, “Ich liebe dich.”

I love you.

With the golden rays of the setting sun casting a warm, enchanting glow on the balcony, Dick stood up from one knee and pulled (y/n) into a gentle, affectionate embrace. The light from the setting sun illuminated their features, turning their silhouettes into a work of art against the breathtaking backdrop. Their kiss was tender and sweet, filled with the promise of a future together.

Their actions were delicate and filled with longing. Dick’s arms enveloped (y/n) as he kissed her, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek, and (y/n) responded with more fervor, deepening the kiss. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers clutching his uniform as if grounding herself in the reality of the moment. The hand on her cheek threaded into her hair and pulled her impossibly closer. 

With huge smiles on their faces, (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their kiss. The moment was perfect. However, their intimate moment was suddenly interrupted by a chorus of whistles and cheers coming from the adjacent balcony. Ron, Harry, Lip, and Nix watched on as the couple got engaged. They exchanged glances and held hands as they made their way toward the cheering men.

Nix hugged Dick and slapped him on the back, his expression a mix of humor and satisfaction. “Now if I remember correctly, some wise guy called this the first time you two met…oh wait, that was me.”

Dick’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he turned to his fiance for clarification. “What?”

Rolling her eyes playfully, (y/n) leaned into his side, patting his chest lightly. “Back in Aldbourne, Lew just thought that, and I quote, ‘sparks would fly’ between the two of us.

“Well, I’m so glad they did,” Harry laughed, holding up a wad of cash in front of him. “I’m a rich man now.”

The major blinked at Harry, his amusement evident. “How am I not surprised you bet on us?” 

“You think that’s all we bet on?” Ron slurred, sprawled out on a chair with his eyes closed. “We also bet on when-”

Thankfully, Lip stepped in to stop the Captain, who appeared to be thoroughly drunk. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed, sir.”

(Y/n) grinned, admiring Dick’s features above her. “Where did you learn all of that?” she asked. “Because I’ve never taught you anything that complex.”

“A man never tells his secrets,” he replied, kissing her temple lovingly.

“It was Liebgott, wasn’t it,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “Cause only Joe knows that much German other than me.”

“Well,” Dick began, “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

“Oh really, Major Winters. Care to enlighten me?”

He sighed, “Nope. I’ve been practicing that for months. It’s all I’ve got.” 

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got the best teacher by your side for the rest of your life, huh?”

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[gamebunny-advance]

Misc. Pikmin 4 Character Trivia

(Updated 05/21/24)

Recent updates: Added info about Ohri and Nijo to the Planet Generalizations section due to new information from the Pikmin Garden website.

Ever wanted all the Pikmin 4 character trivia in one place? Well, here you go. If I missed anything, feel free to let me know and I'll update this post.

Note: I'm not covering the Hocotatians & Koppaites because the former are major characters with a lot about them already written, and the only interesting trivia (IMO) about the latter is already "common knowledge."

This also isn't a document of *every* line of dialogue that a castaway can say. This is just stuff that I thought was interesting and/or info that you can't get from just reading their ID or talking to them once. Some castaways don't have any entries because they're either not that interesting or don't actually talk about themselves much.

Rescue Officers

Collin

Has a wireless transceiver that has been passed down to him by his grandfather. He refuses to replace it and instead just fixes it whenever it breaks.

His hobby is tinkering with machines.

He's worked several odd jobs in the past to help pay for his education. These jobs include collecting space trash, ship construction, and cleaning the "outer walls of the colony". He considers his work as the comms operator to be significantly more difficult than any of his past jobs.

This has caused him to be multi-talented, but it also causes others to take advantage of him.

Despite this, he apparently isn't one for "physical labor."

Collin considers PNF-404 to be tiny, though this may be in reference to the universe, in which all planets could be considered "tiny."

Shepherd considers him young, but in reference to who/what is unknown.

Only in the comics, Oatchi seems to dislike Collin.

Shepherd

She has the highest certificate ranking in the Rescue Corps, and a special certification in Rescue Pup training. This is something very few officers have.

She spends all of her breaks at a dog run near the Rescue corps HQ.

Apparently, she spends much of their budget on dog food.

She met Dingo before she was captain when they were both training. This may mean that she's known him the longest of the other members. Most others are implied to have met her/been recruited by her when she was already captain.

She exceeds Dingo in martial arts and cross-country.

She doesn't seem aware of Dingo's crush on her.

She seems to experience some form of imposter syndrome during the main campaign but overcomes it near the end of the game.

Her family has lived with dogs since at least the first Captain's generation. Additionally, their family is implied to be immigrants from a different planet. Their original planet is unknown, but is highly implied to be Earth/PNF-404.

Her family's motto is, "There's no better judge of character than a dog."

By her own admission, the only creatures she can "handle" are dogs. Whether this also excludes other domesticated creatures is currently unknown.

Russ

His family runs a megacorporation on Giya, and as a result is incredibly wealthy. They're so wealthy that they can regularly afford golden pikpik carrots and just casually blend them into juice for a snack.

Said family is also very large and extravagant and seems to always invite the other rescue officers to their many parties, much to the latter's chagrin.

His mother is notorious in the Rescue Corps for "being quite the character."

He claims to have only joined the Rescue Corps out of curiosity.

While he lords his intellect above most others, he still recognizes Yonny as a genius in the medical field.

He wears a lab coat under his spacesuit. His mother gifted him 64 of them to bring on their current trip.

The Emergency Kit was the first item he prototyped after joining the Rescue Corps.

He is a fan of the reporter Muggs.

His natural hair color may be green, as this is the color of his eyebrows.

He's apparently prone to "interesting" injuries, likely due to failed inventions.

Dingo

Decided to become a rescue officer after being saved in the mountains by Shepherd's father, the previous Rescue Corps captain.

He dislikes dogs due to being traumatized by one during the same rescue, as he believed the rescue pup was trying to attack him.

He appears to fear Russ's mother.

He apparently believes that any drink (and possibly food, given his theft of Bernard's pizza) sitting out belongs to him.

Acknowledges that Collin is probably their most important team member, but he still takes advantage of his kindness from time to time.

He tends to refer to most of the officers by their title/job rather than name. (Comms guy for Collin, Science guy for Russ, the captain, etc.) Except Yonny which he shortens to "Yon."

He's childhood friends with Yonny.

Yonny

He's an avid reader, but prefers paper books to digital ones. He has boxes of them shipped to HQ regularly and they would have taken up 27 shelves on the ship if he were allowed to bring just the ones he wanted.

Has experimented on at least Shepherd and Dingo without their full consent. The former by not being transparent about what was in a vitamin supplement he gave her, and the latter by abusing his tendency to drink anything that's just sitting out. He has attempted to experiment on Collin, but it is unknown if he succeeded in doing so.

Apparently bursts into maniacal laughter when working in the lab by himself. The other officers just ignore it.

He's childhood friends with Dingo.

Bernard

He is very picky about food, to the point that their food storage has a special section just for him. It consists of expensive, specialized foods.

Like Collin, he has worked several different jobs over his career (including the president of a space-flight company). In the Japanese script, this is *apparently reflected in him having a combination of different dialects.

Also, like Collin, he considers his job as an officer to be significantly more difficult than his other jobs. However, he also considers it the most rewarding.

He invented an all-in-one meal drink that put a boxed lunch company out of business, solely because he finds digging through lunch boxes to be a pain.

Shepherd recruited him after he was able to deliver some packages for her faster than the post office would.

He has a history with a castaway named Santi whom he considered himself to be a part of a "dynamic duo" with. They were born about the same time, went to school and college together, and at some point became the latter's flight instructor. Bernard thinks of Santi fondly, but the feeling is not mutual.

He once piloted a 20,000 hour (just over two years) flight.

*(source)

Civilian Castaways + Their Planets

Research Task Force

Twyla and Komo are close friends due to their mutual introversion. They consider each other "irreplaceable".

Komo considers Chet easy to talk to.

Twyla considers the concept of plate tectonics to be unheard of on her home planet. This may imply that Conohan doesn't have any natural mountains, volcanoes, trenches, earthquakes, etc.

Sammy's home planet of Ocobo was not always ravaged by perpetual storms. But once they started, the entire planet flooded and their planet's engineers developed artificial islands for the people to live on.

Sy is the youngest member of the Research Task Force.

Osa is Kit's senior.

Chet has considered asking Ren to try cooking the creatures of the planet, but ultimately decides against it.

TV Crew

Wolfgang and Muggs get engaged at the end of the game. If you talk to Muggs before rescuing Wolfgang, she will drop hints about already having some romantic interest in him.

Muggs is possibly one of only other people that can understand what Oatchi's thinking if her comments from Oatchi are to be believed.

Vonda claims that Wolfgang is apparently a good singer. Comparatively, she struggles to say nice things about Olimar's humming.

Frisé wrote a song called, "Song of Love." This is likely a reference to "Ai no Uta" a song used in the promotion of Pikmin (2001). The title directly translates to "Song of Love." However, the lyrics of the two songs seem completely different.

Satella Travel Employees + Guests

Molly appears to have a crush on Russ. She finds his intellect attractive and wants to wear his glasses.

Molly might also be of a higher intellect given that she once made and launched an unmanned rocket in a single night by herself (even if it exploded).

The name of the travel agency that Chewy and Santi work for, the Satella Travel Agency, is a reference to the Nintendo Satellaview.

Sheeba apparently resembles Chewy's boss.

Santi learned his piloting skills from Bernard.

He also seems to have a similar "accent" to Bernard, but it only comes out when speaking about the latter.

Santi appears to be fond of Chewy and is considering becoming a permanent employee for her sake. Whether these feelings are romantic in nature is unclear.

Planetary Science Club

Despite being the Planetary Science Club's adviser, Mika actually teaches ethics and knows very little about any kind of planetary science.

Sheeba appears fearful of Oatchi.

Sheeba wants to become a teacher when she grows up.

The Planetary Science Club students went on the planetary tour on a free raffle, but Mika had to pay out of pocket.

Kaia gave Mika a nickname: Meeki. Mika likes it, but Sheeba thinks it's unprofessional.

Keesh is apparently stronger than Sheeba, Kaia, and Mika combined.

Others

All of Beaux's roles in movies/shows are references to other Nintendo games and IPs. Specifically the first 3 Pikmin games where he plays the Olimar expy, Animal Crossing: New Horizons, Mario, Kirby, and Link.

In a similar vein, his twin brother Alpin's company is called "e-Leader" as a reference to Nintendo's "e-Reader" accessory.

Alpin inherited the company from their father and works so Beaux can pursue his dreams of being an actor.

Alpin knows Fawks well enough to know exactly how he likes his coffee. (1 cup of coffee with 2 spoonfuls of milk, and 3 sugarcubes.)

From Kayz we learn a little about the different biomes on the other planets: Siguray has a scorching desert, Flukuey has steep, rocky mountains, and Ooji has a lush jungle.

Patch admits that he sees a "darkness" in Olimar's eyes, which implies that this is not his first life-or-death experience.

Patch is implied to have been or was inspired by a pundit to pursue his current lifestyle.

Bernise will actually change her fortune for you every in-game day.

Dalmo has been interested in creatures since childhood.

His hometown also has a waterfront, confirming that Sozor has at least one significant body of water.

While Dalmo never ascribes malice to any of the creatures, he appears somewhat cynical about society, calling adults the only beings capable of intentional deceit and acknowledging that being popular means not having to work as hard to get to the top.

Shnauz's home planet of Siguray apparently has iridescent, water-dwelling newts.

Jin has studied traditional sports, combat sports, martial arts, and the art of battle.

One of Corgwin's first builds was a dog-house.

Speculative material below the cut.

Planet Generalizations

Some castaways from certain planets seem to have similar personalities/traits. Given that it's stated that things like the Koppaites' general inability to plan/being picky eaters is inherent to their race, it's possible that these generalizations apply to the rest of the races as well. I have not included planets with only one castaway. These are detailed below.

Sozor (Dalmo, Grace, Horatio): Have anti-social personalities. Dalmo prefers creatures to people, Grace seems disinterested in society as a whole, and Horatio seems inept at social interactions.

Flukuey (Jin, Molly, Dash, Patch): Have unstable professions and/or are adventure seekers. Jin is an explorer, Molly is a streamer of limited success, Dash is a spelunker from a well off-family, and Patch is unemployed but purposefully puts himself in dangerous situations for the thrill.

Ooji (Francois, Kingsly): Love flowers/plant life. Francois studies plant-life, and Kingsly is a florist.

Koodgio (Lapi, Boris): Artistic types. Lapi is a painter and Boris is an author.

Siguray (Shnauz, Kit, Osa): Interested in the qualities/history of materials/items. Shnauz appraises treasure, Kit is interested in minerals, and Osa is interested in archeology.

Ohri (Yonny, Dingo): Their kind is especially "tough" due to living in the mountains. This is said on the Pikmin Garden website and is reflected in how Dingo is a ranger and is able to complete most dandori challenges single-handedly, and Yonny who was active during the night time, the most dangerous time of the day, before he was rescued.

Nijo (Bernard, Santi): It's common for their people to change jobs frequently while they look for their "soul work/job." This is said on the Pikmin Garden website and is reflected in how both Bernard and Santi have claimed to have worked several different jobs during their lives. It seems that both have also found their "soul work" with the Rescue Corps and Satella Travel respectively.

Castaways where it's difficult to determine if their similar traits would be found in their race due to other factors:

Ogura (Sy, Pitunia): Bother are interested in studying the onion and their environmental factors surrounding it, but both are also a part of the Research Task Force, a group made of individuals that are interested in studying the planet in general, so it's hard to say if this would be something inherent to all Ogurains, or if they just happen to have a mutual interest in this area of study.

Enohee (Ren, Frise, Muggs, Wolfgang): 3 of the 4 are a part of the same crew so would have common interests by default. Arguably all 4 are interested in entertainment as Ren was on a cooking show, so TV might be a very important industry to Enohee.

Neechki (Kaia, Sheeba, Keesh, Mika, Chewy): 4 of the 5 are in the same club and would have similar interests by default, and Chewy has little in common with the rest of them.

Planets where I couldn't identify a common thread:

Enohay (Puddle, Vonda, Bernise): I would have said creative/artistic fields due to Puddle being a stylist and Vonda being a singer, but I don't think a fortune-teller really falls under that.

Conohan (Twyla, Chowder, Alpin, Fawks, Beaux): They all have different professions and interests, two are siblings, and none have especially similar personality traits. In a sense, I suppose this would imply that Conohan is a very diverse planet.

Giya (Shepherd, Collin, Russ): Another diverse group. However, given the stark difference between Collin's and Russ's financial situations, may imply that Giya has significant class inequality.

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

your move to Manchester signifies a triumph - the result of nearly a decade of relentless, hard work. However, your sweet victory is quickly turned sour when you reencounter the person you once deeply loved.

a/n: remade secretly only to be back on my bs...here's to praying for me to finish this fic? | 1/??? | 4191 words

This weather was nothing short of an utter atrocity.

It was the kind of bone-chilling freeze that overpowered even your skin's ability to raise its own flesh. Every ounce of energy repurposed instead to turn that evolutionary feature inwards. A futile effort, at least in your case. Even back home in Amadora, you suffered from genetic lack of internal warmth.

Miserable environment aside, the move would be worth it. Everything that you’ve done for the past few years - nearly a decade of sleep deprivation, being the brunt bearer of power trips and clinging to the slimmest sliver of rarely presented opportunities - had led to this.

Not the brutalist view spanning the length of your new floor to ceiling living room windows, but what it signified. Growth. The expansion of your firm here, in Manchester.

“Estou exausta…”

You pulled your eyes from the endless clouds to see your right hand, Aki, draped limply over the last of your boxes.

“Careful.” You bent to rip open the tape sealing the one near your feet.

“Oh, sorry.” She blew her overgrown bangs up to no avail. “Am I crushing your precious CB2 ceramics?”

“Actually, you’re slowly sinking onto my very sharp surgical steel kitchen knives.” The box cutter in your hand gestured vaguely to the label beneath her hips.

Aki’s yelp echoed off through the empty loft as she sprang from the impending mockup of a medieval torture method. Your laughter joined in when she grimaced and muttered something threatening to the thick cardboard that remained dent free.

“Thanks for helping me with all this.” You exhaled. “I owe you.”

“We’re even when you think about it.” She fetched a box opener of her own.

Your eyes widened. There was never a moment in your lifelong friendship when she didn’t take up on an IOU card. Not even when she purposefully served a suspension for knocking the lights out of a girl who blew gum into your hair in the fifth grade.

“I mean, you brought me along with you to open Bana. Full executive package, no less.” Aki beamed and then sneered upon unboxing her newfound arch nemeses.

That was true. Since she was the company’s Head of Finance, her immigration to Manchester was completed covered. Housing located right across the hallway, a brand new car of choice and an increase in salary to accommodate for the higher price of living wasn't the worst package to receive.

It didn’t feel like much of a repayment for her efforts when all things were considered. Bana wouldn’t be close to what it was today if it wasn’t for her. Any business was only as successful as how well they manage their finances, an aspect that she can solely and proudly take credit for.

Not to mention that you both would be extremely busy while trying to fully establish this new branch. If anything, she at least deserved the building’s penthouse suite for the headaches bound to come throughout this journey.

“So…is that a pass on the 1982 Bruno Giacosa?” You dangled the proverbial carrot.

Aki didn’t miss a beat, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Getting ready for your first day at the office never felt this good.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that your first ever job was, understandably, anxiety inducing. Being an intern for a well-known marketing firm wasn’t known to be a glamorous position - the multitude of reasons for that not stopping at being a coffee gopher.

After climbing the ladder to a mid-level position within your previous company, it became painfully obvious that the older leaders had no intention of making room for you soon. To eradicate any dreams of that from your mind, they even outright said it.

That led to your next go at a first day, the start of your own consultancy which would then go on to become Bana. Even though you had established your presence in the marketing world and had a few loyal clients, no amount of seminars you’d attended or books you’d read could’ve prepared you for the monster of a task you’d taken on.

This time felt different. There was always going to be an element of nervousness when stepping into a new venture. Even though this was a new branch on a tree you knew well, there was a lot to learn about operating in a new country and little time to do so.

What you had now, however, allowed you to convert that nervous energy into excitement. Experience, establishment and esteem. Those things among the equally as important trustworthy team behind you left you more confident than anything else that this could potentially only be the beginning.

“There better be a good reason why you’ve got me out early on a morning like this.” Aki’s poor facial muscles have yet to relax since the move it seemed. This time their scrunch was due to storm clouds looming in the distance.

“I think our very lovely AD has something exciting to share.” You nodded to give her the go ahead.

“Ladies, as you know I’ve been working on getting us an in with a certain business through my various sources and I’m happy to report that Bana was among the firms selected to pitch.” Cindy could barely contain her excitement.

Her optimism was infectious and part of the reason you recruited her. Another reason for bringing her into the fold to establish the new office was the insane network she had.

The blonde Londoner was in a similar predicament to you when you were starting out not long aog. Even hungrier, if you admitted it. Her former employer didn’t see the potential she clearly possessed, so you had no problem poaching her from them.

“And do we finally get to know the name of this state secret level business?” Aki leaned forward.

“Nike!” Cindy couldn't hold back any longer.

Even your face dropped at that. Not in the way that one’s expression would if they just found out that they’d been rejected from their dream school. It was something akin to finding out you’d won a fucking Oscar.

Among the celebratory cheers and shimmies, you thanked Cindy greatly for her hard work. And although it was a moment of uncontainable joy, the wheels had already began to turn in your mind.

There was absolutely no room for error if you wanted this pitch to be chosen. Being a newer firm undoubtably going up against major competition, Bana’s proposal had to be more than just that.

It had to be a statement. One that said you were not only a major player in this field, but that you also were to be seen as a direct rival.

You got to delegating tasks quickly. The sooner you got the bare bones of the pitch down, the quicker you could work on perfecting it. Aki was on budgeting as always - pricing presentation materials, researching and pricing the estimated budget for the product rollout for Nike.

Cindy was mostly on recon regarding the target audience. The product being launched was a new pair of their iconic AirMax, so you anticipated her using historical data as a guideline.

You’d have to do a fair bit of research yourself - getting into market research, the brand’s positioning and messaging - all while putting your firm’s spin on where you think Nike is hoping to go with this launch.

It was needless to say that the midnight oil would be burning. You set up a co-working space in the conference room to make communication seamless in brainstorming and building. This was the energy you missed so much, and a more sentimental reason behind your expansion.

Back home in Amadora, Bana was a well oiled machine. With a strong staff beside you, the hands on aspects of marketing were placed on the back burner by your own doing. In order for your employees to grow, you had to let them lead projects of their own and you trusted them to do so.

Now, you were back to inhaling concerning amounts of dry erase marker fumes and getting carpal tunnel from extensive mood boarding. That along with a side of meal deliveries and an equally as hard-working coffee machine made the long hours seemingly fly by.

“I’m so tapped, I need to power down for the day.” Aki stretched her back dramatically.

“Feel free to head out too, Cindy. Get some well deserved rest.” You took a moment of your own to release tension in your neck. “I’m good here for the next few hours.”

She was visibly grateful to be given the go ahead to clock out. From past experiences, you were able to sympathize all too well. You also made a mental note to have a conversation with her regarding working hours. There was never going to be an obligation of staying behind under your watch.

Cindy and Aki neatly organized materials for their return in the morning while you made your way to your office to continue outlining. With all of the research required collected, all you had to do at this point was place the information into their allocated areas.

There were three short raps at your door before you called her in.

“Still being here wasn’t exactly what I meant by rest, Cindy.” You chuckled, not looking away from your monitors.

“I’m on my way out now! Just wanted to bring you over the client mailing list I got from my source a minute ago.” She slid a USB drive onto your desk.

Your brows raised appreciatively, “Thank you, really. I mean it when I say that your presence here is essential and invaluable.”

Cindy waved a hand, her head shaking in time.

“I’m just happy to be helpful. See you tomorrow!”

You bid her goodbye and immediately got to taking a look at the information she left behind. It would be very useful in filling in some gaps you needed to flush out ideas that would attract the goal audience for the new product.

Influencers, Performing Artists, YouTubers…Athletes.

The last of those categories was obviously a given considering the brand. It also wasn’t the first time you’d come across that group in your line of work. This time though, seeing the label suddenly formed a knot in your stomach.

You were brought back to all of the avoidance in the aftermath - everyone in your life completely air-gapping the football world from your path. They did that to protect you, a gesture you still couldn’t bring yourself to thank them for verbally.

The mouse beneath your hot palm slowly shifted as you moved the cursor to click and expand the list. That knot grew to the size of a boulder. It squeezed your insides painfully within and forced a broken little noise past your lips.

One look at the name Ruben Dias was all it took to rattle you to your core.

o passado

At the age of seven, you moved to Portugal.

There wasn’t much you missed about your hometown, or even remembered for that matter. All you knew was that you were eerily calm for a child whose entire life up until that point had been uprooted. It was possible that your serene state of mind came from your mom.

She was all you had in the world. There was virtually no relationship had with her family - the only photograph you ever had with your grandparents was at your christening.

When it came to your dad, she put it as kindly as she could for a kid. You were smart enough to read the inference in her tone and the look on her face in the handful of moments he was brought up. He wasn’t in your life because he didn’t want to be.

Yet still, none of that made you sad or shaped you into a person defined by traumas. You intended to live the life that your mother encouraged you to. Be a kid, climb trees and get dirty, make friends along the way.

And that was just what you did. The first of them being the girl in your class that waved you over to the empty seat beside hers when you transferred. My name’s Akenna, but I hate it so I make everyone call me Aki instead.

She was the only person other than your mom who made you feel safe enough to confide in, just as easy to talk to as it was to listen to her wild recounts of her own life story.

Aki quickly became a regular in your home and you in hers. The giggles and secrets held in the various forts sprawling from your living room to bedroom would stay under lock and key until long after you both passed.

The next person you met would be the one who arguably shaped you the most. Loud shouts and tussling with a ball in the neighborhood park with his siblings was where you met Ruben. His tattered football rolled to your feet that touched the ground after you’d leapt from the swings.

With a weak kick, you returned it. Ruben shook his head in disapproval before he shot it right back at you. Try that again, with the left this time. You didn’t know if it was anger at being challenged by some random kid or genuine hidden talent, but when you hit the ball with your instep, it flew powerfully and directly into his own.

She’s on my team!

Inseparable wasn’t a strong enough word to describe you two. After finding out that you lived only one house down, he would come to your school to walk with you back home. On many of those occasions, Aki was there too. Your mom would be waiting with snacks and a warning, don’t play too long out in the sun, patifes.

Somewhere and somehow along the years, you and Ruben had become so close that it seemed you two were dating. Ivan jokingly asked one day as you were sharing a vanilla ice cream cone, ew, are you boyfriend and girlfriend? Ruben grabbed your hand, laced your fingers with his, and simply said, yes.

And that was that.

As for when you began to realize you loved him, that was harder to pinpoint. Maybe it came once you began to notice how helpful he was to you and your mom.

Ruben was always willing to lend a hand with repairs around your house, even if it meant searching up how-to videos when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Or how he’d go out of his way to walk your mom home when she worked night shifts.

Aki often griped and rolled her eyes at how you two were making her feel like a third wheel. Those complaints were always quickly followed with rebuttals that she’d spent a grand total of fifteen days as a single girl since she was thirteen.

Just make sure my maid of honor dress isn’t fugly at your wedding.

It was all but a given that marriage was pending in the future for you two. Ruben never had eyes for any other girl and you…God, you were terribly devoted to him. Even your posters of Justin Bieber found themselves catching dust in the closet, replaced by a collage of photos you and Ruben had taken together over time.

Five years saw graduations, proms, college acceptances and many, many firsts experienced together. His arms were the only man’s you’d ever laughed in, cried in, slept in. His eyes were the only one’s you saw when you closed your own. His lips were the only thing you wanted to taste on the good and bad days, and everything in between.

So, what happened on September 15th 2017?

To this day, you still had no answers to the why behind that question. Nor could you allow yourself to wrack your brain for them any longer should you want to hold onto your sanity.

As for what. Simply put, it was the worst day of your entire life to date.

On the eve of his debut for Benfica’s first team, an event he’d dreamt of and worked so hard for, one that become just as significant to you by extension, Ruben broke up with you. Over the phone, no less - which added humiliation onto a violent erupting volcano of destructive emotions.

Cold turkey, brutal, cruel. It’s over, don’t contact me, I don’t love you anymore.

There were no warning signs, no moments in retrospect left unturned during your spiral, that could’ve possibly made what you read true. You initially thought it was some sick joke. Maybe one of his teammates had taken his phone. Or perhaps there was some girl that wanted him and was jealous that he was yours, so she decided to play dirty.

It was none of that or the million other scenarios you came up with on you walk over to his home. You came to learn that it was, in fact, not a joke. Ruben meant it when he said he was done with you.

He made that painfully clear as he looked at you standing under the faint glow of the lantern on his front porch through the window. Those eyes you once dreamt of fondly seemingly someone else’s as he drew the curtain and shut off the light.

You don’t recall much of time that passed in the months following that night. Every now and then you’d get flashes - Aki crawling in and out of the bed you temporarily became one with, your mom scooping you up to help you bathe and wash your hair.

It was better that way, you think. A blessing in disguise to not be able to clearly recall the most devastating period of your existence.

When your memory resumed, it always picked up at the same place. You siting with Aki on the steps of an abandoned subway station in total silence.

In your mind, you were there with him years ago when the line was still functioning. The rush of the train brought wind along that rose your hair like lightning was about to strike. Ruben grinned toothily as he smoothed it back, tilting your face upwards.

He said I’d always be home when I was with him. Where am I supposed to go now?

The silence returned even louder following the question that neither of you had the answer to.

Instead, you sat there in it with your best friend and shed the last tears you ever would over Ruben Dias.

o presente

Seven years was a long time.

It came with two college degrees, laser focus and an ability to compartmentalize so strongly that it would terrify artificial intelligence.

Whatever threatened to upend you at the sight of his name was snatched up and contained to be dealt with sometime in the future. You didn’t put literal blood, sweat and tears into your career to let one old wound derail it at such a pivotal moment.

With the same vigor you scrapped up to move on with your life, you poured every ounce of energy you had into absolutely nailing your pitch. Five all nighters, thirty six edits and ten complete run throughs later resulted in Bana being chosen as the firm to brand the newest AirMax.

“I always knew you were a genius, but this project was just,” Aki kissed the air as she took the next left to drive back to your shared building.

“Team effort, Aks.” You mumbled.

The thing about throwing yourself entirely into one project was that when the hard work was done, all the was left was the shit you were avoiding. You could feel it there, gnawing at the back of your head like a mice on a fresh piece of cheese.

“What if we watched an old coming of age movie like we used to on nights like this? Pop out some wine, get in our pj’s…real wild stuff.” She nudged your elbow with hers.

You casted a fond glance at her. Aki would never come outright and say it, but it was her way of checking in with you. The client mailing list was no secret to her since she needed it for the budgeting, so there was no way she missed him being on there.

The mice grew hungrier. Throughout all of your breakdowns and pain, she held all of hers in unselfishly and arguably stupidly. You weren’t the only one who lost someone important to you on that night.

“We do that after product launches. The deal has only just been sealed.” A smile was managed to form on your end.

“Ah…best not jinx it then, huh?” Aki blew a raspberry.

In order to keep her worries at bay this time, something you silently promised to do ever since your senses had returned, you squeezed her arm and doubled down.

“Besides, I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in nearly three weeks. I think I’ll just go for a short run, take a shower and hibernate.”

She nodded, liking the sound of that plan. You would’ve felt proud of your disarming skills had you not known the real reason for her shoulders relaxing. She was looking forward to having the next two days off more than anyone else.

“Don’t forget to text me when you get back.” Aki stuck out her pinky.

“Always.” You locked yours in tight.

The repetitive beat of your feet meeting the ground had the ability to still your mind nearly as much as pouring yourself into your work did. Left, right, left, right, left. When you added in the accompanying swing of your arms, the constant reminder to keep your breath in control and music that made you feel like you could punch a hole through a wall - you were nothing short of a machine.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanism you’d clung to back home. Every day, you’d take to the streets of the new neighborhood you moved to and then to the track at you university.

You’d gotten so good at it that you were scouted to run for the school’s team. Going pro was never a part of your plan, though. You only accepted the offer because it came with a free ride.

A drop of water hit your face, but it was cold.

Your treads slowed a bit as your eyes turned skyward. The clouds illuminated against a murky purplish background with the warning of distant lightning approaching. You refocused and pumped your legs faster. Fucking Manchester.

In between your songs transitioning, you heard a faint rumble. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the sound distorted by the headphones muffling your ears playing tricks that twisted the noise to sound partially human.

Whether it was or not, you weren’t trying to stick around to find out. It was late at night and the weather was going to get hellish soon.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a shadow ripping behind the streetlights - closing in on yours with each meter. Lactic acid built painfully in your muscles as you pushed even harder, breath control thrown to the wind.

It was gaining on you while rain began to fully fall.

Within a matter of seconds, which is all you had, you came to a decision. You were too exhausted from sleep deprivation and being nearly an hour into your run to beat whoever was chasing after you. The only option you had now was to steel your nerves and use the keys in your pocket as a last line of defense.

Your right hand blindly reached down and was met with lint. Terror hadn’t been felt until that very moment. A thousand and one scenarios raced through your mind with you reaching for the ones that would allow you to leave this situation at least narrowly unscathed.

The one you got a firm grip on using the element of surprise to hopefully distract them from whatever intentions they had for an instant. You took one last deep breath before spinning around swiftly and throwing out a fist.

A man in a baseball cap dodged the punch to his credit, albeit not very ideal for you. His balance, however, was in your favor. He slipped on the slick sidewalk and landed flat on his back with a pained groan.

You were the last thing you should’ve been given that you’d been granted an escape - frozen. On your behalf, you would’ve been halfway down the street and barreling towards your building had it not been for the wide eyes staring up at you.

Those eyes…Ruben’s.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Root of All Ransom (4)

Welp. Here we are. Another part that isn't the finale. So, here you go, 👜 anon, I turned a few sentences into 5.2k.

Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see previous or series)

Summary: Ransom tries his hand at something completely new: being a boyfriend.

Warnings for a shocking amount of foul language, Ransom absolutely not understanding his own feelings, so ya know, idiot!Ran, and referenced smut (non-explicit, or at least not super detailed, don't hate me). MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There is plenty else for you to read on my Light Masterlist.

He’s shocked it’s first class and not a private plane. Ransom shouldn’t be shocked. It’s you, so why not be one more sensible thing you don’t have to do and do anyway? He kinda hates your practicality, but you insist—when the stay overseas is this long and there’s no hard start to your arrival, you fly commercial.

He already regrets coming along. Why did he think this was a good idea again?

Ran entertains himself for the majority of the first leg since you are actually on a call in mid-air about…whatever the fuck he interrupted you discussing yesterday…and now he’s distracted by that damn memory again.

He adjusts himself in his spacious seat, folding his hands over his lap and focusing out the window past you. Except he’s not. He’s not eyeing the cloud formations or the colors of quickening sunrise and set. He’s just watching you handle your business. He sees you put on fake—but well-executed fake—smiles and offer niceties to people beneath you, people nowhere near as smart as you, people nowhere near as pretty.

Shit.

He watches a movie instead, waking up as the pilot announces your descent, and he turns to find you resting against his shoulder.

He hadn’t even noticed. He didn’t notice falling asleep. He didn’t notice someone touching him in his sleep. He didn’t care, and that’s weird for Ransom.

He doesn’t want to know what it took for you to put him beside you on such short notice—except he really, really wants to know—but he vows this will be the only time you pay for his ticket. It’s better if he pays his own way. Less mess. Boundaries. Not much harm in you napping on him though because, hey, you’ve been naked together in bed…and now he’s thinking again. Shit.

Ransom has ‘friends’ all over the world, so his passport is current and ready for a barrage of stamps. The noise of the immigration officer’s plunging metal and ink gong (or may as well be) tells Ran he needs some painkillers for a headache. Good thing he wore dark sunglasses.

Coffee during the mercifully short layover does not prevent him from passing out on your shoulder during the second leg of the trip, but you are happy puttering away on your tablet when he falls asleep and when he wakes up. You play some stupid game the whole time. He had no idea you did that.

With how excruciating the journey is to Beijing, Ransom’s considering always tacking on a visit to someone between you and home. He’s never going to do just this back and forth again, but it’s not so daunting if padded with a second locale.

He can make one call and be raucously accepted in Dubai, Monte Carlo, Sydney, and Naples, and those are just the people he’s seen recently States-side. Trust fund children live their best lives, do the best drugs, and drink the best booze. They do that shit endlessly. They are Ran’s people. Ran is one of them. He’s rolled that fact over and over in his head too much by the time you two step out to find your car in Beijing.

You have a local assistant and translator, whose name he doesn’t give a fuck about when he’s this tired, and she rides in the back of the SUV with you. He just shuts his eyes behind his sunglasses and prays to stop moving soon. His ass is vibrating and not in a pleasant way.

There is no pomp at the hotel. In fact, Ran notices that absolutely no staff so much as glance at your party as you make your way to the private elevator.

One button. It’s not labeled. It’s just a little gold round, and the assistant pushes it.

Then Ransom sees a few smaller black buttons below the otherwise empty panel that all have distinguishing characters, but guests need not know nor care what those mean. Only the gold matters. You should arrive at the penthouse, nowhere else, and the elevator just does the rest.

It’s a nice touch, he allows, properly exclusive.

You head to sleep instantly, only taking the time to wash up before crawling under the generic white but high thread count sheets, and lightly snoring. Ran thoroughly cleans up, too, unable to lay down just yet. He smirks when he sets his bag of travel-sized skincare down by yours. It’s odd that feels right.

He explores the four rooms of your suite with due reverence. This is the shit he thought you avoided. This is the top of Beijing—possibly all of China—and they know you here.

Whilst you remain dead to the world, room service arrives at exactly six pm local time. That is not something you told the assistant to do within the last day; that’s a routine, a standing order, and Ran has no clue what to do.

Does he wake you? Does he help himself? What the fuck? What would you want? What does he want? He’s way out of his depth. He munches on the proffered food while contemplating how stupid it was to make this long-ass trip without truly getting what it would mean.

What does it mean anyway?

Optionless but to ask you, he slinks into the bedroom and gently sweeps your hair behind your ear.

You mumble but don’t wake. He doesn’t get an answer if you are hungry, but he leaves the door ajar so you can smell dinner if it strikes your fancy.

Ransom crashes pretty quickly once his belly is full and the sun sinks beyond the smoggy horizon of metal spires.

His choice for bed is to curl around you. That’s what he wants. That’s what puts him right out. Ransom Drysdale always does exactly what he wants. That’s the beauty of his life.

Within a few days is another formal event, and Ransom is pre-partying with a glass full of two tiny bottles worth of whisky when the elevator dings.

He thinks it’s room service again but isn’t sure why they wouldn’t know to skip a dinner delivery tonight.

Before he gets a word out, however, a tall, bulky gentleman in an all-black suit stares back at him with the same questioning look.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ran blurts.

The man looks around and asks for you instead of responding, and you pop out of the bedroom.

“Cole?”

Is that even remotely this fucker’s real name? He’s a very, very good-looking Asian man named fucking ‘Cole?’

No. Ran fumes instantly.

“Shit,” you exclaim rushing to place an earring and ignoring the wide-open back of your dress. “This is my fault. I blanked. I won’t need you tonight, dear.”

Dear???

“But you’ve got your—“ you hold your hand out toward the newcomer (or not-new), miming giving him something, but Cole sweeps away your concern with a wave.

Ran steps closer to you, forcibly zipping your gown with eyes fixed on the other man.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s no trouble.” Cole looks Ransom up and down, flashing an approving grin. “You two have fun.”

The hell if he needs Cole’s fucking approval, but you play it all off so well that Ransom forgets all about him by the time you take his arm and walk into that evening’s venue.

He has enough to drink that Ran gets pretty handsy in the car on the way back to the hotel. His groping gets you very hot and bothered in turn, and eventually, he bends you over the suite’s expensive grey couch with the view of the city below, gripping your hair and hip tighter than intended. He fucks you so hard that you squirt, and it drips down the inside of his legs, wetting his dress socks which are still on. 

It’s not the soggy socks that annoy him the most though.

You make him help you clean the mess with towels, and the kicker is that Ransom didn’t get to come yet. What the shit? From now on, hard fucks are only for over hardwood floors, and fuck if he’s letting you come first, selfish whore. Ran isn’t the help. He’s not fucking cleaning.

His reward—because he always forgets that there is always a reward with you—is that you let him come wherever he wants, so then he’s deliberate and torturously slow sliding into your soaked pussy and marking his selfish, rewarding, dick-sucking, cum-painted whore. No condom. Damn it, it’s perfect.

He’s a filthy asshole and you fucking love it. He knows because you let him. He knows because of those noises and that fucking giggle. He knows because you both sleep like fucking rocks after your dirtiest sex ever.

Yes, the arrangement is working well, despite being in each other’s company five times more than ever before. He gets breaks while you work or he roams around shopping sometimes. Still, two days after the first event, Ran flies to see that buddy in Monte Carlo and then home.

Just in case.

He doesn’t want to get bored.

 It works. The whole arrangement works, and no one is more surprised than Ransom. He isn’t getting bored with you or the sex. He visits in short intervals, ready with any number of jaunts to other countries should he need to run, and you keep running your own fucking business. He’s simultaneously cautious and completely unhinged in enjoyment. Best of both worlds—or no worlds, kinda—because there are no labels and no pressure. He’s in complete control. He comes when he wants. Yup. That means exactly what he thinks.

He would have guessed the distance would get on his nerves or get old, but Ran discovered phone sex. There was no reason before to do digitally what he could do personally. Why have a phone book of willing ass if not to use it? He may have been wrong on that front. The phone itself is a goddamn revelation. He gets to finish and there is no one—no one—to kick out afterward. He can hear everything, see everything if he wants, and then he definitely doesn’t have to clean your filthy cunt up. He’s never gone long enough to forget what you taste like, so that’s fine. Where has this been all his life?

Good news is that you like enough variety (and make all those fucking noises) that he is anything but bored. He’s steadily built a vivid spank bank from his in-person visits and a few choice screencaps on his ever-more-beloved phone.

He enjoys one event gown with a slit so high up your thigh that he can finger you secretly. He only has to lean over enough to look like he’s listening to you whisper in his ear—and you do whisper harsh, filthy things that make him wish his clothing left such easy access to his dick. Also, Ransom Drysdale is now a member of the Mile High Club, and yes, he is very smug about that fact.

You do that. You answer his texts, and you call more. Ran looks forward to midday as well as midnight buzzes from his pocket.

He enjoys it even more when he gets to pick up your call in the middle of brunch with his mother, holding a finger up to Linda’s face mid-sentence to say he has to take this.

He’s deliberate to call you ‘sweetheart’ right away, openly gloating which, ok, yes, you were right about him doing, but he doesn’t pity Linda. That bitch deserves all this and more.

“Yeah, it’s a good time to talk. Just at brunch,” he says with all the niceness of people he’s seen being obnoxious in ‘relationships.’

“She says ‘hi,’” he tosses to his mother as he excuses himself from the table. The look on her thin, cigarette-puckered face is priceless. He’ll have to make sure you call during brunch every week he’s not traveling.

His grandfather is harder to flaunt you in front of. The astute old man always asks about you, not your business, and promptly waxes poetic about his late wife. Ran has never heard Harlan talk about Grandma Thrombey so much while playing ‘Go.’ He thinks maybe Grandpa is getting senile or hoping to freshen up the old stories for a new audience, namely his nurse, Marta.

Compared to his deceased ancestor, Ran’s giving it the old college try. Comfortable living in a nondescript limbo of getting laid with total freedom. You are never the sole reason he leaves the country. That would be dependent. Ransom is not dependent.

He’s careful because if he upsets you then he makes this very awkward for himself—temporary as that may be until he simply flies away.

He plays the role of a boyfriend. He imitates things he’s seen. It’s easier to fake than he thought it would be.

Ransom has never seen you this stressed. 

You make less eye contact with him and the other guests at the swanky Hong Kong plaza—a little travel amongst his travels—but the party is too crowded for him to ask what’s wrong.

 Of course, because you’re such a big name right now, lots of young entrepreneurs and CEOs want to talk to you. That’s too many people too close for even Ran’s socialite moods. He bristles at the puppy dogs wagging their tongues and tails in your face.

You don’t handle the attention well.

You jump headlong into the variables of earnings, spending, overhead, gross revenue, and capital while Ran watches the men and women surrounding you start to zone out. They humor your rant, but it’s not what they all want to hear.

These are people who talk out of their asses. They talk a big game with tiny, manicured hands that grasp at buzzwords and soundbites. They are ‘eco-friendly,’ ‘streamlined,’ ‘culturally inclusive’ little fucks, all of them, and Ransom speaks their language.

He touches your elbow lightly.

“Shall we get you a fresh drink, sweetheart?” he says a touch loud to cut you off.

All you notice is that you can see the bottom of your glass. “Oh, sure.”

“I’ll bring her right back,” Ran promises the circle of listeners, guiding you away to a far table.

He’s not telling you how to do your job, but he knows those folk. That’s not how you keep young money’s attention.

They don’t do well with practical details upfront. They’re dreamers. Paint a picture. Give them the moral and idealized speech of how you’re making the world a better place. The bullshittier the better. Then hit them with the figures if they ask.

As he says his piece, you sigh and straighten. You know he’s right.

“You really are cold and calculated.”

“What the fuck else am I supposed to be?”

You look him over before a small ‘okay,’ announcing you’re ready to tackle the rest of the night.

Ran smiles back before taking you the long way around to grab those fresh drinks he promised. He’s been helpful. He feels like your equal, and it feels good.

You certainly don’t need him, but his confidence is boosted after coming to your rescue.

On his next trip out, there’s a problem. Thank god you lay out your clothing the morning of so that he caught it, too, because the dress—this goddamn rag sack piece of shit—has to go.

It’s hideous. Trendy in the worst way. Ransom isn’t letting you fucking leave like that. He isn’t going to be seen with you like that, more accurately. He simply refuses.

You’ll have to be fashionably late. They’ll fucking wait for you.

He doesn’t care if it’s a local designer. He doesn’t care if your assistant has to be on the phone through her lunch break. He arranges for you to have a proper gown.

Something decent. Something flattering. Something you.

And it really does make you light up.

You hang on his arm with gratitude the whole night, sweetly touching your hand to his thigh when something in the dinner conversation reminds you of him (or if you’re sure you’ll commiserate about someone’s stupid comment later), and Ran feels appreciated for his expertise.

It’s another high note.

His planned trip on the way home is Ibiza. The friend he visits there was once loosely described as “the British Ransom,” which then led to the two being called ‘the Wank’ and ‘the Yank,’ a story for another time. However, Ran struggles to see the similarities this time.

The Wank still sleeps around with these model types. He still drinks too much and does a bunch of drugs. Ransom has no interest in any of the half-naked women throwing themselves at him. He tries—he really tries—to find them appealing, but he can’t help but notice they’re dumb. They have no original thoughts of their own, not a single one between them, and it’s fucking torture to listen to them. They are instantly boring.

He misses the challenge of you already.

Ran muddles through an exhaustive, unenjoyable weekend before coming up with a solution.

Instead of going back to the states, instead of being boring and predictable and expecting those imbeciles to develop opinions overnight, he surprises you (and himself) by returning to Beijing.

It makes sense because Ransom Drysdale does whatever he wants, always has. No, he doesn’t have to do anything, but that makes it all the more strange that he wants to see you again so soon.

It’s a mixed bag bordering on a mistake.

He’s seen you stressed but never this busy. Every other visit was planned, aligned with weekends or events so he has something to do with you instead of just near you, but he’s fucked that now.

You spend hours away at your temporary offices. You have meetings at your construction site morning and afternoon. Your contractor even comes up to the hotel suite after you come back from twelve hours out already.

Ransom is bored. He’s upset for you, and he doesn’t hide it well.

After fifteen minutes sitting across the living room from you two and your blueprints, bouncing his foot on a rug not thick enough to muffle the sound—but also no longer stained from your come, he notices,—you stride over with a set jaw.

Your hand lands on his knee in a biting pinch.

“Behave,” you hiss, “or go.”

Normally, he’d be furious. No one talks to Ran like that, but that’s just the problem: you do.

You talk to Ransom like that because you’re trying to work. You’re work is more important than he is. He’s returned, and you have shit to do. Why does that hit him so differently?

As a child, he started with a sky-high hope of pleasing his mother, but her constant belittling and dismissal wore that hope down to nothing.  The sudden desire for that approval from you is a bit like his presence: uninvited but not unwelcome.

Linda didn’t care what he did as long as he wasn’t around. You don’t care what he does—not really—as long as he is around. It’s only that you don’t like being annoyed, just like him, and he doesn’t want to annoy you.

He doesn’t want you to get bored with him.

So his immediate reaction is to sit still. He wants to behave. He wants to stay in the room with you. Why is that so odd? He should take a swing or yell. He should bolt to catch the next flight out. Why does staying in a place he belongs feel so foreign?

Wait. Why does he feel like he belongs here?

Because Ransom does whatever he wants, and if he wants to be in the room, then he belongs there. Obviously. Yeah. That’s gotta be why.

He stares, perfectly unmoving with your eyes locked on his, and your look softens after a long moment.

“Sorry,” you mouth. “Thank you for being patient.”

In yet another odd turn of events, Ran wants to argue with that. He’s never been patient his entire life. Certainly, no one has ever described him that way, but a confused weight pushes his ass further into the cushions, readying him for a long haul.

“Good boy,” you mutter, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Behaved? Patient? Good? Fuck, he’s gonna need time to think about what he’s done, why he’s doing it, and why the fuck you think he’s good because Ransom Drysdale isn’t good.

Right?

He’s good with strictly Old Money folks or young money folks, but Ransom has never been particularly adept with earned money folks. You are a mix of young and earned. It’s why he can’t figure you out all the way, not quickly, at least, not obviously.

He tags along to an intimate business dinner scheduled for the night. Since he wasn’t supposed to be in town, it’s either that or eating alone, so Ran guards himself for a spectacularly boring meal.

There are only seven people, and he’s the odd man out. You are neither the oldest nor the youngest two there. Among the table is another couple in their fifties—business and life partners—who have been together for years, probably decades. Ransom doesn’t listen very closely; he watches. They are both more playful and more serious than you and him. It makes Ran very aware of how useless he is to you at this moment. Because Ran can’t ramp up his industry knowledge in five seconds flat, he decides to touch you more.

Grazing the back of his finger down your arm. Swiping your hair off of your neck. Splaying his hand between your shoulder blades.

It’s not meant to be possessive; he just has nothing else to do. What else is he supposed to offer?

Apparently, that’s not…good?

He doesn’t understand much of what’s said (a hazard of not giving a flying fuck because he’s not there to understand your business) but he does notice your change in demeanor after a short chat with the woman seated to your right.

On the way back to the car, you lengthen your stride, rushing in front of him, fuming. Ran doesn’t understand. It’s not as if he fingered you under the fucking table or something, well, not again. You didn’t seem any weaker or submissive in front of the group. He demanded no attention in return. He’s not an idiot. He made sure.

The elevator ride to your floor is sweltering and not for good reasons.

You refuse his help with your zipper and beeline to the bathroom, starting a shower much later than you normally would. He knows these routines now.

He listens to the spraying water while quietly undressing, not sure what to do or say because he has no clue what he did or said in the first place. He wasn’t hanging all over you. He didn’t grab your ass or objectify you in any way. He’s always known how not to treat people like shit; he simply doesn’t care most of the time.

This isn’t one of those times.

He needs to know if he fucked up so he can leave. He can’t stand to hang around for arguments. He watched enough of those from Richard and Linda. He listens by the bathroom door until there’s one faint sniffle from the other side and immediately walks in.

You’re standing under the water, head hanging.

When he gets to the glass door, he asks, “what’s wrong?” Ransom doesn’t have a gentler way to word that.

You stare at the tiles. “I’m tired.” You don’t tell him to go away or leave you alone, so Ransom opens the door and steps in.

He’s seen you tired. He knows you tired. That’s not the whole truth.

Ran won’t get any goddamn sleep if you’re strung out and emotional beside him, so he lifts your chin in his grasp and asks you to pass him the body wash. He’ll get your back.

Your pupils are blown when he looks at you. Ran doesn’t know how to take that when you keep your arms tucked to your chest like a scared and quivering rabbit.

No fancy ideas form in his head while he slowly scrubs that beautiful expanse of skin he’s grown quite fond of. It’s a lot for him to even stay in the building much less the tiny space of this bathroom, luxurious as the shower may be. He has no experience going toward upset people. He is always running away from them.

With how quiet you are, all of Beijing will run out of hot water before you talk to him, so he motions to leave.

“Good? You ready?” he whispers once you’re rinsed.

You don’t look at him again. “I’ll meet you out there” is all you mumble.

Fine. He grabs a towel for himself and peels off his now sopping-wet boxer briefs. He wrings them out over the sink dramatically and flashes you a smile, but you’ve fully turned away, covered and drying with your head bent again.

He does not like this.

Ransom’s flight home leaves the next day, and this is not how he wants any of his visits to end. You can’t be sad. He can’t get any sleep beside a sad woman.

When you crawl into bed, damp hair and all, he mirrors how you lay beside him, but you don’t touch.

“So…” he tries again, leading you to a place he’s not even sure he wants to go.

After a heavy sigh, you explain that the woman at dinner thought he was an escort. She thought you were so lonely that you hired company for a dinner of friends. She thought you inappropriately considered that acceptable, as if you wouldn’t know for what functions you needed a fucking date.

Ransom fills the silence that follows. “Like…Kyle?”

You prop up your head to glare at him in the ambient city light. “You mean Cole?”

“His name isn’t fucking Cole, but sure, that guy.” Ransom shifts over to his back, spreading out casually over the bed while his chest tightens. “You…pay them for company.”

More silence.

“Paid, past tense, yes.”

“Did you fuck ‘em?”

You smack his chest with no real force. “Ransom!”

“What?! It’s just a question. It’s a fair question,” he retorts. You only call him ‘Ransom’ when mad. When he’s good you call him ‘Hugh,’ or when you’re messing with him, but either way, he prefers when you say ‘Hugh.’ You are the only person not employed by his family who he prefers that from.

You sit bolt upright in the bed, wearing pajamas, he notes. Boo.

“Ok, sure, Anal Daddy of the Northeast. You can talk.”

“Fine—” because that was savage “—are you embarrassed?” He mirrors you again and sits up. “Does it embarrass you that you hired them?”

“No.” You don’t sound convincing. “It didn’t then.”

Ran rests his head on his fist, tired. He’s tired but not bored. Weary. That’s a better word for it. He’s weary because that absolute cunt at dinner has no right to make you feel so small and wrong when you could wipe the fucking floor with her.

“Why would be embarrassing now?”

Good god, if Ransom Drysdale isn’t embarrassed that you walked in on him with one of the saddest fucks of his life than surely you’re overreacting.

You are busy all the time. It would make less sense for you not to use that type of service. It’s only because he has money that he can keep up with you and only because he has no job that he can see you on your schedule.

“Because…” You flop onto your back, so your eyes can’t meet his even in the dark. “Because she thought my first real boyfriend of this decade was a whore.”

Ran shrugs. “I am though.”

You snort, try to stop it, and end up burying your face in the comforter to giggle.

“Hugh—“ that’s better “—stop it. That’s not what I meant.”

He leans over you, his weight against a hand at your side. “I suppose the real question is ‘am I a better free fuck than your paid fucks?’”

Your fake ire is adorable as you try to ‘attack’ him in bed. You may as well have started a pillow fight, but it’s leagues away from crying on your own in the shower. Who knows? If he plays his cards right and puts you in a good enough mood, he might get a blowjob out it. That’ll sure as shit let him rest well tonight.

Finally, tumbled onto his back with you straddling him, he grabs your wrists lightly.

“Come on, sweetheart, I’m sorry that old hag is a bitter bitch.” He kisses the tip of your nose and lines his lips up to yours. “Now where’s my check?” he asks in a gravelly, thick voice.

“Cash,” you correct just before your mouths meet, and Ran snaps back in curiosity.

That’s how you wanna play it? He tries to get more out of you.

“No, no, no.” Your squeals as he manhandles you closer are delightful, the silky fabric of your shorts and top glide right over his heating skin.

“You know what I think,” he announces with you pinned to his chest, gasping for breath. “I think you need to come home. I think you’ve been here too long.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

When you move to hide your face in his neck, Ran has to hold your cheek, forcing you to pay attention.

“Three days,” he says. “Give me one weekend. My grandfather’s birthday is a couple weeks away. You can see the leaves change and watch my mother shrivel into the Crypt Keeper before your very eyes.” He allows a pause for your poorly stifled laugh and watches you bite your bottom lip like he’s going to do for you in about two minutes, right after you say yes. “Pure entertainment. No translator required. How about it?”

It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t fight him a little more. It wouldn’t be you if the challenge didn’t make him that much harder.

That’s why. That’s why he does this. He wants the bit of work to get you in bed, the bit of struggle before you let him inside you. He wants to be home with you there. He wants to be in his own space again. He wants to show you off. He wants his fucking family to see he can do this. 

Selfishly.

All of these things he wants for himself. He wants you to stop crying for him. He wants you to destress for him. He wants you to have a vacation for him. These are all completely normal motivators from Ransom Drysdale.

He’s still in control. He’s still getting what he wants. He didn’t have to change a thing about himself to be perfectly happy. He was right all along.

A/N: Repeat after me: this is not a series. This is a mini-series. There will only be one more part. Again, only one more part...because ffs I do love Ransom, but it is impossible to write any other character while dipping into this asshole's mindset. Anyway, one. more. part. and we're done! Also hey, hey, @supraveng.

[Next Part]

[Main Masterlist]

[ghelgheli]

Bloomberg—Postmortem Sperm Retrieval Is Turning Dead Men Into Fathers

July 18, 2022

[A]bout 20 people, young and old, sit around the table in the main room of a public housing apartment in this city near the Lebanese border. They help themselves to pasta, shawarma, cakes, and coffee, and they remember German Rozhkov. Rozhkov, a Ukrainian immigrant turned soldier, was killed 20 years ago, when he was 25. One of the children darting among the mourners—sitting on laps and nodding shyly—is 5-year-old Veronica. She never met Rozhkov, of course, but she’s his daughter. Thirty hours after he was killed, his sperm was extracted, preserved in liquid nitrogen, and, 14 years later, used to fertilize the eggs of Irena Akselrod. She didn’t know Rozhkov, but she volunteered to bear and raise his child after meeting Ludmila. Persuading a judge to grant Ludmila Rozhkov and Akselrod the right to German’s sperm included testimony about his desire for children. But there was no case law covering when a dead man’s sperm could be used to produce offspring. In his ruling, the family court judge wrote: “When the law doesn’t provide an answer, the court must turn to the principles of Jewish heritage. ‘Give me children, or I shall die,’ our mother Rachel cried out. This logic reflects man’s desire to continue through his offspring the physical and spiritual existence of himself, his family, and people. We are told, ‘Be fruitful and multiply.’ ” Being an active grandmother is something Rozhkov feared she’d never get to experience on that day in March 2002 when officers came to visit her with the unbearable news. When she saw them, she blocked the door in an attempt to avoid hearing the truth. Later, in grief, she shouted out in Russian, “We must get his sperm!” No one, including those who spoke Russian, knew what she was talking about. After a man dies, his sperm cells live up to 72 hours and can be retrieved with an incision to the testicle, then frozen. “We checked with legal and medical authorities and went ahead,” Mor says. “Today it is becoming routine.” “Routine” may overstate it. There are a few dozen children like Veronica. But the military practice of postmortem sperm retrieval is now a familiar topic in Israel, even if it’s extremely rare elsewhere. A couple of dozen army families are eager to replicate the experience. When parents of a dead soldier go on Facebook or TV seeking a mother for their future grandkid—not only a surrogate but also a kind of daughter-in-law who’ll raise the child—the response can be overwhelming. Hundreds of women volunteer in a display of national solidarity and what seems to be a growing preference for a sperm donor who isn’t anonymous and whose family will be involved. The country’s tiny size and population clusters help with child rearing, with adult children rarely living more than an hour from their parents and often within a few minutes. “We are very postmodern in our reproductive practices,” says Zvi Triger, a professor of family law at the College of Management Academic Studies. “Now, even being dead doesn’t prevent you from having children.”

This has been going on, albeit at an accelerating (and ever more legally enshrined) pace, for quite some time by the way.

[cwimmigration]

Canadian Immigration System: A Comprehensive Guide to Spouse Open Work Permits and Visitor Visas for Parents

In recent years, Canada has emerged as a beacon of opportunity, attracting individuals from around the globe with its thriving economy, high quality of life, and inclusive society. For many, the dream of living and working in Canada is not only about personal fulfillment but also about building a better future for their families. However, navigating the intricacies of the Canadian immigration system can be daunting, especially when it comes to securing work permits for spouses and visitor visas for parents. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the processes and requirements for obtaining a spouse open work permit and a visitor visa for parents, shedding light on key aspects and providing valuable insights for a smoother immigration journey.

Understanding Spouse Open Work Permits:

For individuals who are already in Canada on a study or work permit, the prospect of having their spouse join them can be a crucial factor in their decision to settle in the country long-term. The spouse open work permit serves as a pathway for spouses of temporary residents in Canada to work legally in the country. Unlike other work permits, the spouse open work permit does not require a job offer from a Canadian employer, providing spouses with the flexibility to seek employment in their chosen field upon arrival in Canada.

Eligibility Criteria:

To be eligible for a spouse open work permit, the applicant must meet certain criteria set forth by Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC). These criteria include:

Relationship: The applicant must be married to a temporary resident in Canada who holds a valid study or work permit, or who is awaiting a decision on their application for permanent residence.

Temporary Resident Status: Both the applicant and their spouse must have temporary resident status in Canada at the time of the application.

Validity: The spouse's open work permit is typically issued for the same duration as the spouse's study or work permit, allowing them to work legally in Canada for the duration of their spouse's authorized stay.

Application Process:

The application process for a spouse open work permit involves several steps, including:

Gathering Documents: Applicants must gather the required documents, including proof of marriage, copies of the spouse's study or work permit, and other supporting documents as specified by IRCC.

Completing the Application: The applicant must complete the appropriate application form and submit it along with the required documents to the IRCC office responsible for processing work permits.

Paying Fees: There is a processing fee associated with the spouse's open work permit application, which must be paid online at the time of submission.

Waiting for Processing: Once the application is submitted, it will be processed by IRCC, and the applicant will be notified of the decision.

Obtaining the Work Permit: If the application is approved, the applicant will receive their spouse's open work permit, allowing them to work legally in Canada.

Benefits of Spouse Open Work Permits:

The spouse open work permit offers numerous benefits for both the applicant and their spouse, including:

Financial Independence: With the ability to work in Canada, spouses can contribute to the family's income and pursue their career goals.

Social Integration: Working in Canada provides spouses with opportunities to network, build professional connections, and integrate into Canadian society.

Flexibility: Unlike other work permits, the spouse's open work permit does not tie the applicant to a specific employer, giving them the freedom to switch jobs or pursue self-employment opportunities.

Visitor Visa for Parents:

In addition to reuniting families through spousal immigration, Canada also recognizes the importance of family ties by facilitating visits from parents of Canadian citizens and permanent residents. The visitor visa for parents allows parents to visit their children in Canada for extended periods, providing them with the opportunity to spend quality time together and create lasting memories.

Eligibility Criteria:

To be eligible for a visitor visa for parents, the applicant must meet certain criteria established by IRCC. These criteria include:

Relationship: The applicant must be the parent or grandparent of a Canadian citizen or permanent resident.

Purpose of Visit: The applicant must demonstrate genuine intent to visit their child or grandchild in Canada for a temporary period.

Financial Support: The applicant must be able to demonstrate sufficient funds to cover their expenses during their stay in Canada, or provide evidence of financial support from their child or grandchild.

Application Process:

The application process for a visitor visa for parents typically involves the following steps:

Completing the Application: The applicant must complete the appropriate application form for a visitor visa and submit it along with the required documents to the IRCC office responsible for processing visitor visas.

Providing Supporting Documents: Applicants must provide supporting documents, such as proof of relationship to the Canadian citizen or permanent resident, evidence of financial support, and a letter of invitation from their child or grandchild in Canada.

Paying Fees: There is a processing fee associated with the visitor visa application, which must be paid online at the time of submission.

Waiting for Processing: Once the application is submitted, it will be processed by IRCC, and the applicant will be notified of the decision.

Traveling to Canada: If the application is approved, the applicant will receive a visitor visa allowing them to travel to Canada for the approved period of stay.

Benefits of Visitor Visas for Parents:

The visitor visa for parents offers several benefits for both the parents and their children in Canada, including:

Family Reunification: The visa allows parents to visit their children and grandchildren in Canada, fostering family bonds and creating cherished memories.

Cultural Exchange: Parents have the opportunity to experience Canadian culture, traditions, and way of life during their visit, enriching their lives and broadening their perspectives.

Support Network: Having parents visit provides emotional support and assistance to their children in Canada, especially during significant life events or challenges.

Navigating the Canadian immigration system can be complex, but with the right knowledge and guidance, individuals can successfully obtain spouse open work permits and visitor visas for parents, reuniting families and creating opportunities for a brighter future in Canada. By understanding the eligibility criteria, application process, and benefits associated with these immigration pathways, individuals can embark on their immigration journey with confidence and optimism, knowing that they are taking the necessary steps to build a fulfilling life in the Great White North.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Imagine this: It’s exactly one year from today, Memorial Day weekend, 2025. It’s 94 degrees in the shade, but the fact that the world keeps shattering monthly temperature records isn’t even making the news — and that’s not what has Philadelphians so hot and bothered. It’s been about two months since Donald Trump, the 47th president of the United States, announced Operation Purify America in an Oval Office address, and about a week since a stunned Philadelphia watched an endless convoy of militarized vehicles and federalized troops from the Texas and South Dakota National Guards roll up I-95. After a week of setting up a base camp at the Air National Guard base in Horsham, the actual operation began at midnight the day before, as a parade of Humvees and armored personal carriers cornered off a wide area in Philadelphia’s Hunting Park section and supported federal immigration agents who went door-to-door in the predawn chaos, bursting into homes and asking Latino residents for their papers. Journalists who’d been kept blocks away by the troops now search for anyone who could confirm the rumors of screaming, scuffling, and dozens of arrests. As the hot sun rises, Mayor Cherelle L. Parker, Gov. Josh Shapiro, and several hundred angry protesters gather outside the Horsham gate to denounce the raids. A phalanx of helmeted troops pushes the throng back, firing tear gas to clear the road for the first busload of detained migrants. They are bound for the hastily erected Camp Liberty, an already overcrowded and decrepit holding center on the Texas-Mexico border that Amnesty International calls “a concentration camp.” This might sound like a page from the script of Alex Garland’s next near-future dystopian movie, but it’s actually a realistic preview of the America Trump himself, his cartoonishly sinister immigration guru Stephen Miller, and the right-wing functionaries crafting the 900-page blueprint for a Trump 47 presidency called Project 2025 are fervently wishing for. As polls show Trump in a dead heat nationally with President Joe Biden, and poised to win at least some of the battleground states where Biden was victorious in 2020, the presumptive GOP nominee is making no secret of his scheme for what he calls “the Largest Domestic Deportation Operation in History.” The audacious goal of tracking down and deporting all 11 million or so undocumented immigrants living and working within the United States is, experts agree, all but impossible. But even the forced removal of hundreds of thousands, or one million, would require a massive internal military operation on a scale not seen since the Civil War and Reconstruction. [...] What’s changed in 2024? Everything. Despite the Hannibal Lecter-ized outward chaos of Trump’s rallies, behind the scenes, Team Trump is focused and determined not only to name the most rabid Trump loyalists to key political posts but also todramatically strip civil service protections andremove recalcitrant midlevel government employees. And this time around, Republicans in Congress are going to be on board with whatever Trump wants. [...] It was somewhat amazing to watch the furious debate online and on cable news this week over the weird incident in which small text about a “unified Reich” found its way into a Trump promo video the ex-and-wannabe president posted on Truth Social. The perplexing part, for me, is that this was discussed as some kind of Sherlock-Holmes-magnifying-glass a-ha moment, revealing Trump’s secret plan for Nazi-style rule. Folks, he is screaming his plan out loud at his rallies! The Trump deportation scheme is really Trump’s blueprint for dictatorship.

Will Bunch at The Philadelphia Inquirer on how Donald Trump's proposed deportation plan is a pretext for a fascist MAGA dictatorship (05.23.2024).

Will Bunch nails it in this Philly Inquirer column on how Donald Trump's fascistic plan for mass deportations is a speed-run for a MAGA dictatorship.

[wakandamama]

You ain't raise the Federal minimum wage.

You ain't erase student debt

You didn't place rent or interest caps

You didn't protect affirmative action and positions of Diversity and Inclusion at a federal level

You didn't protect our rights as citizens to our personal bodily autonomy

You didn't protect People of Color

You didn't respect and act accordingly to tribal treaties with MULTIPLE Native American tribes.

You allowed the 90% complete erasure of the separation of Church and State violating MILLIONS of citizens religious and cultural freedom rights

You allowed, as defined by both domestic and global law, cruel acts of inhumanity against immigrants, refugees, and minority citizens of this country. At federal, state, and local levels

You allowed those immigrants interment camps to remain

You allowed further millions of Americans to die from a public health crisis

You allowed further degradation of our already fragile and corrupt systems of regulations for the things we need to have in order to survive and provide for our familes

You allowed the continued progress of militarized police brutality and the devaluing of justice

You allowed the economy to turn to absolute shit for anyone not a fucking millionare

You are ACTIVELY FUNDING AND BACK MULTIPLE GENOCIDE THAT AMERICAN PEOPLE DO NOT FUCKING WANT TO DO!!!

You are ACTIVELY ALLOWING THE ESTABLISHMENT OF DOMESTIC MILITARIZED FASCISM AGAINST AMERICAN CITIZENS

You are ACTIVELY ALLOWING THE POWER OF VOTING TO BE RENDERED NEAR NULL AND VOID BY IGNORING AND NOT FEDERAL BANNING ACTS OF GERRYMANDERING

You are ACTIVELY AVOIDING THE REASONABLE MEASURES THAT NEED TO HAPPEN AT A NATIONAL LEVEL TO PREVENT OUR PLANT FROM BEING UNHABITABLE IN 40 YEARS

Every campaign promise you declared, has failed. Spectacularly and Exponentially, fallen on your face, failed to accomplish. To the point you have grossly lied and coved up most of atrocities and violations of citizens rights, then have the nerve to gaslight the nation as evidence is live streamed to us.

This statement covers more than either of those two old white privilege fucks about to thumb wrestle over whose turn is it to helm the final stage of America's fascism. This about all the politicians in Congress, in State Houses, in Mayors Office, who fill their pockets, lie, and sell out the citizens that trusted them to do the right thing. To actually want to improve our nation and communities for the longevity of our nation.

And for any blue or red coated muthafucka wearing the white glazed goggles of white supremacy wants to argue me bout "lesser of two evil" as the Black ass and Indigenous ass daughter of a man who march in the Million Man March and has been protesting since shes was 11 please fuck all the way off.

[mina-saiyat]

Twice Interactive Story Part 172.5-203 Why are you always so naughty (Sana, Mina)

You sigh and ready to back to work after dropping Momo, your phone breeze and you receive two message, one from your step sister Chaeyoung, another one from Sana.

I check the messages really quick to see what they're messaging me about.

You first check on your stepsister Chaeyoung's message, she said the semester is going to end soon, and she would be back from the dorm and reminds you to leave some time for her during the sem break. She said she misses you, either another step-sister Dahyun, who already graduated this summer, who lives in your family's house alone currently, as your parents have immigrated to US since you graduate from College. You are more like a father to your sister, as you are the one who raises them.

You then check on Sana's message, flirty as usual. 'Boss, can you come to pick me up? I am not familiar with the road near the hotel, and I think I get lost.🤧🤧 I promise I would only be naughty at your office from now on😳😳.'

I message Chaeyoung and tell her to bring Dahyun so they can stay over at my apartment for a little. I then message Sana that I'll come by but she better not try anything.

Chaeyoung replies she is looking forward to live at your home, but also suggest you could visit Dahyun before She's back.

You then drive to Sana's hotel and ready to pick her up. She did not wear the shirt she tore yesterday, instead with a short dress and your jacket, her cleavage can be easily seen. She gets in the car, kisses your cheek, and hands you a coffee, you could see there is some lipstick remaining on the straw.

I put the coffee in the cup holder and drive to the office, telling her I don't have time for her today, so she should actually be working. I quickly leave her and head to my office where I call Mina in.

'Can you just spare some time for me?' Sana asks when she gets off the car. You tell her that you are busy and quickly leave her.

You back to your office and see Mina is already in your room and prepared coffee for you.

I enter the office, closing and locking the door behind me as I come up behind Mina and start kissing her neck.

Mina enjoys your kiss from behind, she grabs your hair and pushes you deeper, hoping you can mark more hickeys on her neck.

'Give me more, let other know I belong to you.' Mina moaning while you start getting off her clothes.

I slide my hand under her panties and start to finger her. "Does little Minari like having my fingers deep in her tight pussy?" I ask.

Mina blush when you are teasing her, her whole body is lying on yours, hoping to hide her fed face. You try to go deeper, forcing Mina to answer your question.

'Minari likes everything from boss, but Minari does not make boss cum from the alarm this morning, Minari deserves punishment.' Mina starts to collapse due to your teasing.

"No, no, no, Mina. You did good, it's my fault that I cut you off like that." My fingers go deeper into Mina, and I go faster making her cum quickly. "You can make up for last time right now."

Mina completely falls on you when she reaches the orgasm, too shy to show her facial expression at the moment she peaks. Biting you clothes to minimize the noise of her moan.

It's too cute that you just caress her cheek and ask her to clean your finger.

'Taste yourself, tell me how is it.'

Mina follows my orders slowly licking my fingers and sucking on them. "That felt good, didn't it Mina? Your about to get something much bigger, so get ready."

Mina kneels down after cleaning your finger.

'Let me continue my job, sir.'

Mina starts removing your trousers and caress your shaft, you just sit on the sofa to enjoy her services. Mina strokes your cock until it is fully erect, then she starts to lick it.

"That’s nice Mina, keep going" I put my hand on the top of her head and gently guide her to taking the top of my cock in her mouth as she starts to give me a blowjob.

You slowly push Mina's head, guiding her to swallow whole your length in her mouth. She starts sucking it immediately after you are all in, her tongue licking your shaft, while her hands are massaging your ball.

'OH, Minari, such a good girl.' You start pushing her head deeper for more pleasure, you reach her deep throat once again. Her suction becomes greater, and she starts to Bob her quickly, while her hands are playing with your nipple and the balls at the same time.

"You're such a good secretary Mina, always doing such a great job." I cup her cheek, and let her continue at her own pace.

Seeing you still not cum, Mina starts to Bob her head faster and looking you with an innocent face. You were triggered by her innocence, you just grab ger head towards you, and cum in her mouth.

Mina swallow all of your seed, start stroking you and ask with a sad face, 'Boss take longer time to cum, is Minari doing bad today?'

"That’s not it at all Mina, I just wanted to last a little bit longer. I love when you give me a blowjob, you always do a great job. There's something else I want though. Sit on my lap Mina."

Knowing you want more, Mina removes her panties and sits on your lap, you plant hickeys on her neck again as per her request.

Mina's thigh is rubbing your dick while you are caressing her. You soon are ready for another round.

'Can you cum inside me, boss?' Mina asks while she kiss your cheek.

"Of course, Mina" I align my cock with her pussy and bring her down onto it quickly. "Does little Minari love being filled by my cock?"

'OH, it feels so good. I feel I can never leave you again, your cock feels so good inside me, I love you so much, boss.' Mina starts moaning and riding on you.

You keep spanking her ass while Mina is moaning louder as you spank each time, she seems so needy today.

I hold onto Mina's hips and make quick thrusts into her. "How bad does Mina need my cock? "

Mina stops her riding and hugs you tighter, allowing you to control the rhythm.

'Boss, Minari can't live without your cock. Minari need your cock every day, Minari need your cock now!'

She keeps moaning as you thrust faster, you can feel she is going to cum, as her wall is squeezing you tighter.

I tell Mina to cum for me as I feel her walls tighten around me. As she cums I continue thrusting into her, not giving her any break.

Hearing your approval, Mina cums. You grab her waist tighter and increase your speed of thrusting. Her pussy becomes even tighter, it takes much more effort to go in every time.

Soon Mina cums again by the intensity fucking, her walls squeeze once again, and her cums hit your tip making you cum instantly. You keep thrusting while you shooting waves of your cum inside her.

'So Warm, boss, Minari feels so happy that you cum inside me.' Mina still milking you with her pussy, you two hug tighter while enjoying the aftertaste of the orgasm.

"You were great Mina." I move Mina's body so she's grinding against me. "Mina I might have family live with me for a little so I can't have you give me my morning alarm."

But Minari wants to wake you up everyday.' Mina looks sad when you tell her the news.

'The girl this morning should not be your girlfriend, right? If you want someone to sleep with you at night, you can find me rather than sleep with some random girls. I guess I am prettier than her?' Mina is being affectionate by laying her head on your shoulder.

'Please still let me come, boss.' Mina kisses your cheek one more time.

"You can come over but don't wake me up with the regular alarm, how about you make me breakfast instead. Oh you know what, you should  take cooking classes so you can make more things besides your omelet"

'But Minari needs that for breakfast, otherwise, I don't have the motivation for work.' Mina starts grinding your cock again, trying to seduce you, your cock starts to erect again in her pussy.

"What if we had some fun here everyday? Would that motivate you?"

'OK, but can Minari have 2 more loads every day, I will be very hungry if I only have breakfast when we back to the office.' Mina kisses you again and ask shyly. She slowly starts to ride you again.

"Of course Mina," i grab Mina's ass and give it a light smack. "You can get 2 more loads"

Mina moans again while you spank her ass, and she rides you faster as she is happy that her breakfast is now guaranteed although no more alarm is required.

Suddenly, someone is knocking on the door when Mina rides you fiercely, she feels scared and try to hide behind you. You quickly wear back your trousers and answer the door.

It is Sana, she is only wearing your jacket, just like yesterday. You can see her finger is playing her clit, her face is red and breath so heavily.

'Can I join you, sir? I feel so horny when hearing Mina moans like that, I can't focus on my work, I need you now sir.' Sana asks while grabbing you inside the jacket and play with her tits.

I turn around and tell Mina she was too loud, and Sana heard her.

Mina blushes when she hears you say she was too loud. 'Sorry boss, I didn't mean it, but it's feeling so good. I feel so dirty when you fuck me after you fucking other girls last night, I love this feeling.'

Sana kisses your and pushes you in the room, 'What if we continue?' The door is locked again.

"Fine, but I'm going to need you two to clean me up."

Of course, I will clean you sir, but let me finish you off first.' Sana pulls down your trousers again and starts jerking you off. You unbutton her jacket so you can play with her tits freely. You two just stand by the door, and make out passionately.

Mina is sitting on your chair, watch you two make out, don't know how to join the threesome, so she just fingering herself.

"I've got an idea, Mina lay on my desk. Sana you're going to clean Mina's pussy, while I fuck you."

Mina lays on your desk, and shyly spreads her leg for Sana. You can see the mixture of cum slowly dripping from her pussy.

Sana can't wait to taste it, she licks Mina's clit immediately, 'Damn, so tasty, I want it inside too, you are so lucky, Mina.' Mina just keep moaning while grabbing Sana's hair.

You align your cock with Sana's pussy, ready to take her from behind. Sana is so wet that you can easily penetrate her with one thrust.

'Shit, I have waited for this for whole night long, faster sir.' Sana moans happily, you bend down and grab her breast, while enjoying their moan echo in the room.

I push Sana's head further into Mina. "Come on Mina, force her to get everything. She's your plaything too"

Mina shyly follows your order, grabbing Sana's head harder and push her toward her pussy. Sana obeys, and go deeper with tongue, Mina moans louder as the sensation is becoming stronger.

Meanwhile, You fuck Sana faster and keep spanking her ass, her ass becomes red, and she is excited by the spanking, her walls become tighter. With three more thrusts, she cums, she sucks Mina harder and bring Mina reaches orgasm at the same time.

I quicken my thrusts and eventually cum inside Sana. I give her ass on last spank as I pull out.

You pull Mina for a kiss and then put her on the table, ready to fuck her again. Sana is not happy to be ignored, she stands at your back, pressing you with her breast and pushes you to thrust in Mina before you are ready to start. Mina was shocked and moaned loudly. You find that you had entered Mina's ass.

As I find it to be tighter I start thrusting into Mina's ass "oh fuck, Mina your ass feels so good, I could get used to this." I moan.

Mina slowly get used to your size within her ass, but it is so tight, you can just keep a lower pace, preventing Mina suffer from pain.

'OH shit, Minari never tried in ass before, it feels so good, sir. Please fuck me better.'

Seeing Mina totally adapted to your size, you start fuck her harder, her pussy is already very tight as you are the one who takes her virginity, but her ass is even tighter. You just can't stop fucking her ass.

'Seems I have done a great job, can I have some reward?' Sana licks your ear while keep pushing you by her breast.

"No your punishment for pushing me is you don't get any more cock for today. You can sit on Mina’s face if you want."

'Maybe you will have another answer soon.'

Sana kisses your cheek one more time before she kneels down, you do not care what's she going to do, you are just focusing on the sensation from Mina' s ass.

Until you feel something warm on your balls, Sana is playing your balls and licking your shaft, every time your cock comes out of Mina's ass, Sana licks your cock before you put in again. Her another hand is playing with Mina's clit, both you are receiving a double pleasure now.

Mina reaches her orgasm soon,' My ass is so hot, fuck me harder boss. I'm cumming!' Her ass squeezes you tighter, and you feel you are ready to reach your orgasm either, your cork is pulsing very hard.

My cock throbs inside Mina's ass, and I shove it all inside her as I unleash a wave of cum, flooding her asshole.

You thrust all in as you released waves of cum into Mina's ass, Mina's leg just grab your waist tighter, hoping you can reach deeper into her ass. While Sana is keep playing with your ball, allowing you to cum more in Mina.

'Boss, it feels so good in my ass, I would never forget this feeling.' Mina still recovering from this intensive orgasm, you bend down to kiss her. 'Mina, you are doing a good job, I have so much fun in your ass.'

Once you pull out from Mina's ass, the semen keep dripping out, Sana is waiting for this moment too long, she sucks Mina's ass and swallow your seed.

'No, Miss Sana, that's mine, don't rob it.' Mina is still recovering, as she could just contest feebly and shivers from the pleasure that Sana sucking her ass.

I move to Mina's side and tell her "You can have it from the source Mina."

You move to another side of the table and push your shaft into Mina's mouth. 'If you work harder, maybe you can have more for your breakfast.'

Meanwhile, Sana is playing with her ass and clit at the same time, Mina could not handle the pleasure from all 3 holes used at the same time, she can just twist her body, making your documents fall to the floor. The sensation makes Mina want to moan, but she couldn't, as you are face fucking her.

Three of you are going to cum soon, as you can hear Sana moan louder and feel Mina's mouth becomes tighter, as Mina could not moan, she could just apply more force on her muscles to release her pleasure.

I cum inside Mina's mouth, and she drinks it all. "Oh you did such a good job today Mina." I moan, "I think we'll be having lots of fun with the extra cum I need to give you.”

Mina is excited by the comments that she can have more cum, she starts cleaning your shaft and start sucking it again. You shaft is still sensitive from the orgasm, you just start face fucking her again. Sana sees you start the round, she participates again, this time licking the pussy and fingering Mina's ass.

You two just spend the whole morning playing with Mina's body, you use Mina's mouth like a pussy, cumming three times inside, and for the last orgasm, you shoot all of your seed on her face.

You don't know how many times Mina cum, her body still shaking from the intensive sex, even after You and Sana has left her body. Mina seems want to say something, but she is too exhausted to even move her lips.

Sana stands up and comes to you, caressing your cock. 'Did my performance satisfy you and Mina? Do you still have one more load for me, master?'

"I told you would get no more for today Sana, as a punishment."

Sana did not give up, she starts stroking you and kissing you. 'How about in my mouth, or on my face, I wanna everyone know I am your cum slut. Ruin me, Ruin my jacket.' Sana whispers seductively in your ear.

Yes, Sana is still in your jacket, all unbuttoned, but it is nearly a mess, the previous sex makes it wrinkle, anyone can know Sana just have fierce sex if she wears this go out of your room.

"Sana I'm willing to give you extra cum tomorrow of you leave, properly dressed, right now."

Sana unwilling to let your cock go after one last stroke, then she helps you to tidy the room and pick up the documents that fell on floor due to Mina. Meanwhile, you put Mina on the sofa, allow her to rest better.

Sana buttons the jacket, still with nothing inside, ready to get back to work. Before she opens the door, she asks while she bites her lips ' Boss, what do you want me to wear for tomorrow, just like today, or I should wear a Shirt and skirt so you can tear it down.'

"Wear some regular clothes" I tell her. Once the door is closed I get back to work. Making plans for what to do after. Thinking about maybe going on a run.

'OK boss, I will wear something that you can easily tear tomorrow.' Sana leaves after sending you a wink.

You turn back to your seat and see Mina already fall asleep. You text Jihyo that you will go jogging tonight and ask her will her join you.