#Indian Goverment

[allindiatodaynews]

Cash Amount of Ten Thousand Rupees Will Be Given to The Flood Victims

Due to the excessive amount of rainfall in some places in Maharashtra, a flood situation has arisen in those places, and due to this financial loss has occurred. Many farmers’ crops have been washed away and the houses of the farmers have been damaged as water has entered the villages. As various damages have occurred in these pre-hit villages, the government will pay attention to it and help…

[vyyom]

This is Durgapur. A similar thing happened in front of RG Kar too. Seniors are scared. Police are taking no action. The government and administration is hellbent on saving the rapists. God has forsaken us at last.

[meredith123]

What is IPS?

As one of the three All-India Services, the IPS has a long and distinguished history in the country. Its officers are eligible for senior administrative / management positions with both the federal government and the individual states. The Ministry of Home Affairs is the cadre controlling authority for the IPS.

Within India’s internal security system, IPS is a highly esteemed and revered service. According to Sardar Patel, the Indian Police Service, along with the Indian Administrative Service, is the most fundamental pillar of Indian democracy and is vital to the maintenance of law and order, peace, India sovereignty, and India’s integrity.

The Indian Police Service is responsible for the country’s civil and criminal administration, which includes police administration legislation. The roles and responsibilities of an IPS Officer include the implementation of policies governing the national, local, and state police administrations in India. The primary duties of an IPS officer are to ensure the safety and administrative well-being of those under their jurisdiction.

[schoolseducation]

What Are The Different Languages In India?

Hindi is the most talked about language in India. It comes from an old language called Sanskrit. People in the north and middle of India use it a lot, and it’s the official language of the Indian government. Hindi has lots of cool stories and poems from a long time ago, like from guys named Tulsidas and Kabir, and also from more recent writers like Premchand. You can hear a lot of Hindi in Bollywood movies too, which makes it even more popular. Hindi is written in a special way called the Devanagari script, which is easy to read once you learn it.

[myjobcorner]

Indian Army Veterinary Officer Recruitment 2024: SSC in RVC

The Indian Army invites applications from qualified male veterinary graduates for recruitment to the Group-A category of Short Service Commission (SSC) Officers in the Remount Veterinary Corps (RVC) for the year 2024.

Indian Army SSC Veterinary Officer Job 2024 Indian Army Veterinary Officer Recruitment 2024 – The Indian Army invites applications from qualified male veterinary graduates for recruitment to the Group-A category of Short Service Commission (SSC) Officers in the Remount Veterinary Corps (RVC) for the year 2024. RVC Officer Vacancies 2024: Total Vacancies: 15 (Male: 12, Female: 3) Indian Army…

[romaniaroxme]

Cost of a ballot?

Author: Shivam Shankar Singh Genre: Non-fiction “We know that no one ever seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it.” -George Orwell The elections in my country are in full swing with two phases already over and a few more to go . It is supposed to be a very dramatic event with the major political parties as well as their political candidates throwing slew on each other or on each…

[beststudyabroadconsultants]

Scholarships for Studying Abroad by Indian Government

Studying abroad can be a transformative experience that can broaden your horizons and provide new opportunities for personal and professional growth. However, the cost of studying abroad can be a significant barrier for many individuals. To help alleviate this financial burden, the Indian government offers several scholarships for students wishing to study abroad.

1. The Indian Council for Cultural Relations (ICCR)

ICCR offers scholarships for Indian students to pursue higher studies in other countries. These scholarships are granted based on academic merit, financial need, and the candidate's commitment to promoting cultural exchange. The scholarships cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return airfare.

2. Government of India Scholarship Program

The Government of India Scholarship Program provides financial assistance to meritorious Indian students who wish to pursue higher studies abroad. The scholarships are granted based on academic merit, financial need, and the candidate's potential to contribute to the country's development. The scholarships cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return airfare.

3. Jawaharlal Nehru Scholarship Program

The Jawaharlal Nehru Scholarship Program is offered by the Indian Ministry of External Affairs to meritorious Indian students pursuing higher studies abroad. The scholarships are granted based on academic merit, financial need, and the candidate's commitment to public service. The scholarships cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return airfare.

4. MHRD Scholarship Scheme

Indian students pursuing higher education abroad can apply for scholarships from the Ministry of Human Resource Development (MHRD). The scholarships are granted based on academic merit, financial need, and the candidate's commitment to community service. The scholarships cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return airfare.

5. The Maulana Azad Education Foundation (MAEF)

The Maulana Azad Education Foundation (MAEF) offers scholarships to Indian students pursuing higher studies abroad. The scholarships are granted based on academic merit, financial need, and the candidate's commitment to community service. The scholarships cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return airfare.

6. The Indian Institute of Technology (IIT)

The IITs, being prestigious institutions in India, offer several scholarships for Indian students to pursue higher studies abroad. These scholarships are granted based on academic merit, financial need, and the candidate's potential to contribute to the advancement of science and technology. The scholarships cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return airfare.

7. The Indian School of Business (ISB)

The ISB offers scholarships to Indian students pursuing higher studies abroad. The scholarships are granted based on academic merit, financial need, and the candidate's potential to contribute to the management field. The scholarships cover tuition fees, living expenses, and return airfare.

Conclusion

Studying abroad can be a significant investment, but with the help of scholarships offered by the Indian government, it becomes more accessible and affordable. By leveraging these scholarships, students can explore new educational opportunities, gain a global perspective, and pave the way for a successful future.

[everydayjobalert]

The Karnataka Public Service Commission has announced the KPSC Recruitment 2023 for the recruitment of associate professor/reader positions in a number of disciplines. The deadline for application submission is September 20, 2023.

[jackoshadows]

It's so confusing and weird that Bridgerton introduced in world racism both with Lady D and Simon in season one of the show and in Queen Charlotte and at the same time they also want the audience to accept that somehow Marina Thompson or the dark skinned Indian Kate Sharma has more privilege and power than Penelope Featherington?

Kate Sharma was also poor, so much more than the Featheringtons. She depended on Lady D to host them. The Sharmas were looked down on by the ton because Mary Sheffield married an Indian. The Sharmas were disowned and ostracized by the Sheffields.

Kate was also an unmarried spinster. No one was asking Kate to dance. As much as Kate wanted love and romance and to dance at a ball wearing pretty dresses, she got none of that. She was also the woman on the sidelines watching as others danced and fell in love.

Racism and colorism is also very much a thing in eurocentric notions of beauty considering the setting and characters of Bridgerton is 99% white.

We got so little of Kate's backstory, of who her parents where - we didn't even get their names!! - of the trauma (explained for both Simon and Anthony using flashbacks) that had Kate overlooking her own happiness for that of her sister.

Despite bragging nonstop about the diversity of Bridgerton the showrunners thought that the white Featheringtons needed more screentime in season 2 rather than the South Asian family.

And Kate was planning on going back to India and work as a governess to pay for her livelihood. Because, you know, there's more honest ways of being a 'working woman' than running the equivalent of the regency 'Daily Mail' dragging other women down. The modiste Madame Delacroix, Kate planning to teach and Sienna in season one are all working to pay a living. Black, brown and lower class women looking to alleviate poverty.

And considering how much harder Kate already had it as an outsider in the ton, it wouldn't have been easy with Penelope using her gossip rag to describe the unmarried Indian woman as ' a Spinster of a beast'. What did Kate do to Penelope to warrant this? Nothing. Just a way for Penelope to make money at Kate's expense.

That's the thing I dislike the most about the way the character of Penelope is written on the show - her victims don't deserve her vitriol and are often in much worse circumstances than her. From Kate Sharma to the unnamed seamstress who apparently lost all her customers because Penelope wrote falsely about their work in the her tabloid as a bribe for Madam Delacroix.

And I think that's what I find problematic about the writing of the show and even the discourse surrounding it - when characters like Marina Thompson (the poor black cousin who would have ended up destitute on the streets because of Penelope) and Kate Sharma arguably have it far worse than Penelope Featherington as per the show's writing and yet we are supposed to have the most sympathy for Penelope because her crush Colin didn't love her back and she's a curvy white woman?

I guess that's the difference between how I perceive this world and these characters as a woc and the majority white female audience for this show and it's such a huge disconnect for me. I guess this is also partly because the show has this badly written and 'strangely toothless racism' as Ash Sarkar beautifully put it. As in the racism is treated in this world as a little problem solved by handing out a few titles to black people instead of being a white supremacist ideology which treated black and brown people as inferior, serfs and slaves.

From what little we got from season 2, Kate Sharma definitely did not have it easy navigating the ton as a poor outsider and that certainly contributed to her poor choices. She is also put through the wringer, treated like the other woman, is miserable for several episodes, had to apologize again and again and nearly die before Edwina forgives her!

In contrast Penelope's actions have hurt so many and yet she gets a pass by both the show and a fandom that wants Colin to grovel before her because of a single offhand remark and because he didn't return her affections.

Also making it clear here that I am not comparing Penelope to the male characters who always get the better writing, flaws and all. I am comparing Penelope to the female characters of colour - Kate Sharma and Marina Thompson.

I mean, Marina Thompson gets so much vitriolic and sexist hatred for not having told Colin Bridgerton the truth of her pregnancy. How dare Marina hurt this privileged white man Colin Bridgerton. When she was desperate to not end up destitute on the streets or get raped by old white men. And yet Penelope gets a pass for hurting women like Marina and Kate.

It continues a trend of white female characters never being held to the same standard as female characters of colour. Daphne sexually assaults Simon in season one and that was not even addressed on the show. Male rape is apparently no big deal because Daphne wanting children is what's important. It's Simon who has to apologize and within one episode resolve his trauma and accept being a father. This is despite both Daphne and Penelope having more screentime and more writing that builds their character unlike the stick thin writing given to Kate Sharma in season 2.

So yeah, I will be checking into season 3 to watch the ten minutes we get with Kate Sharma since we got so little of her in her own season and it's so singular to get dark skinned south Indian characters in a period drama romance like this. It's just the way the writing on the show, the production and even the fandom treats it's characters, especially characters of colour has been disappointing to say the least.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Julie Andrews (The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins)—Oh where to start .... I'm not sure I even know how. She's just perfection. And it's not fair I can't bring post 70s work into this, because she just gets better and better, and her drag performance in to die for. But in the era I CAN talk about, she shows she has THE RANGE. Beautiful, feisty, funny, holding her own against Christopher Plummer, Paul Newman, Rock Hudson. Oh she's luminous.

Nadira (Shree 420, Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai)— She had a blast playing the femme fatal in Indian films in the 50s. Also the costumes she wore in Shree 420 are absolutely iconic. It's important to mention that she was Jewish. She was born Farhad "Florence" Ezekiel in Baghdad to an Iraqi Jewish family. They moved to India sometime in the 1940s. The funny thing is that she originally wanted to convert to Catholicism and become a nun but joined the film industry instead as her family desperately needed money. Even though she was unfortunately typecast in femme fatale roles after playing the nightclub entertainer Maya in Shree 420, she always gave 110% to every role she was cast in. Apparently she acted in a German film as well? She was also one of the most highly paid actresses in the Indian film industry and was one of the few Indians to own a Rolls Royce.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Julie Andrews propaganda:

"She has such a simple but amazing beauty to her. Not to mention her amazing and melodic singing voice!"

"Roles like nannies and governesses can make us forget how attractive she was! A perfect combination of elegant and adorable, with the most incredible vocal range to boot!"

"Besides having one of the most amazing singing voices ever to grace the silver screen, Julie always had an understated beauty to her that wasn't always shown off on screen. But it's there nonetheless because her characters managed to pull some of the hottest men ever to grace the screen."

"The juxtaposition between carefree Maria and stern but fun Mary Poppins shows the power of the acting of this HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN"

"Charming, genteel, incredibly charismatic, beautiful, and has an angelic singing voice to boot. Her screen roles as Maria in The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins are absolutely iconic for a reason and she originated several well-known Broadway roles before those."

"the most beautiful woman 12 year old me had ever seen possibly"

"OMG OMG OMG she’s definitely been submitted before how could she NOT but!!!! I loveeee her so muchhhh rahhhh prebby!!!! cool!!!! mary poppins the beloved <33333 some people dislike it but I love jolly holiday so much because it IS a jolly holiday with Mary!!! no wonder that it’s Mary that we love!!!!!"

"I know many people who were taught in singing lessons "when in doubt, pronounce words how julie andrews would pronounce them." THATS CALLED INFLUENCE. THATS CALLED MOTHERING THOUSANDS."

Nadira:

I just submitted a whole list of golden-era Bollywood stars without whom I thought this tournament could not conscionably be considered complete BUT Nadira has got my personal vote for Hottest of the lot. She played a bunch of delicious vamp roles in her youth before graduating to being a creepy spiderlady antagonist type in middle/older age. Rare is the still in which she looks like she's NOT about to gnaw your face off. Yow!

[jomiddlemarch]

Badly done, Emma

“Do you think, my dear, that little Emma lacked aptitude or determination?” Mr. Weston said. They had been wed for well over two years and Anne still found it hard to think of him as John outside their bedchamber. Married life was an endlessly fascinating mixture of the incongruous and the familiar, any awkwardness in address balanced by the tremendous ease she had in his embrace, the peace of his heartbeat lulling her to sleep as she of the narrow, spinster’s bed found her rest nestled in his arms.

“She is Mrs. Knightley,” she corrected, her satisfaction in Emma’s marriage still coloring her tone, curving her lips into a smile. Emma had found such happiness in the match Anne could hardly recall the days when she herself had hoped her charge would become Mrs. Churchill.

“I know I ought to call her that but I can’t forget what a sprite she was with those bright curls and dainty bows, that little voice piping up, cossetting her Papa, the most managing miss Highbury has ever seen,” Mr. Weston said.

“I believe she’d forgive you, though George mayn’t,” Anne said, lifting her brush and gazing at the canvas before her. It was not quite right, not yet, but she’d gotten closer.

“It’s a curious pleasure, to find a way to make cool, steady George fierce,” Mr. Weston said.

“It is for you, as you delight in teasing him,” Anne replied.

“He’s got to refine his sense of humor. Or enlarge it,” Mr. Weston said.

“You’ll have to enlighten me, Mr. Weston, for I cannot fathom your meaning,” Anne said, daubing a bit more paint, nodding at the effect, and then glancing up at her husband, who stood just behind her, with a clear view of her work and its subject.

“I mean to cast no aspersions, for I always thought you were the finest, most accomplished governess in Surrey, but Mrs. Knightley’s portraits leave something to be desired, in a manner of speaking,” Mr. Weston said.

“In a manner of speaking? It isn’t like you to be so indirect,” Anne replied.

“I believe Mr. Knightley’s Praxidike could render a more accurate likeness than his wife’s work in watercolors,” Mr. Weston said. “A likeness less likely to make the viewer seasick, though I admit that is primarily caused by her landscapes.”

“Praxidike is a horse,” Anne said.

“Exactly,” Mr. Weston smiled. “So I return to my initial query—did little Emma lack talent or did she not attend to your wise and skilled instruction, my love? For your portraits are most apt and hers are most…appalling. That she thought to secure Mr. Elton for Mrs. Martin with her painting makes one question her vision if not her sanity—"

“You are too harsh, sir!” Anne said.

“Only if one believes Mrs. Martin bears a strong resemblance to Prinny in his cups,” Mr. Weston replied. “Though was that perhaps Mrs. Knightley’s intention? I know it’s been said the lady is the by-blow of an aristocrat, but surely the portrait would suggest Mrs. Martin is Prinny’s very twin, if one imagines him with his hair dressed à la grecque, with quite a quantity of rice-powder on his nose, in Highbury’s very best Indian muslin.”

Anne laughed, almost in spite of herself, for her husband was droll if not entirely polite, but while her laughter made him smile, it caused her subject to frown and then howl most piteously.

“You’ve woken Sophia,” Anne said.

“You were done painting in any case,” he said, walking over to pick up their squalling infant daughter from the basket she’d been sleeping in, leaving the snowy lace-trimmed blankets in such disarray it was a blessing Anne had finished rendering them.

“You sound quite certain,” Anne said, raising her voice slightly to be heard above the crying baby. Sophia settled to some hiccoughs as her father patted her back and murmured some nonsense to her. Shortly after her birth, he had confessed that he intended to dote upon her and it would be up to Anne to make sure the little girl was not spoilt, that he would not waste his chance to be a papa a second time, after letting Frank be raised by the Churchills. He made good upon his promise every day, with such fond affection Anne could not bring herself to scold him for it, nor castigate him for declaring she must play the villain in their daughter’s life; they would simply need to hire an excellent governess to correct Sophia’s mischief.

“I am. You were about to ruin her cheek. I cannot paint myself, but I can tell when you’ve achieved perfection, my dear,” he said. “It is a skill I do not expect Mr. Knightley will ever be required to master.”

“He will not,” Anne said. “To answer your query, Emma applied herself assiduously to her artistic endeavors, so much so that she could not see to what degree her hand and eye failed her. When it comes to portraiture, it must be said that she lacks all talent.”

“I cannot imagine Mr. Knightley will fret much over it. It is any guest to Donwell Abbey who must prepare some delicate compliments in advance, for surely they would be struck dumb when touring the gallery,” Mr. Weston said.

“Perhaps not. Emma should take their silence as awe and quite prettily accept their reaction as unutterable praise and then invite them to tour the gardens,” Anne said. “She knows how Mr. Knightley delights in his roses.”

Posted for Day 4 of Janeauary 2025 @janeuary-month prompt: portraiture

[easybrainrot34]

🩵Bridgerton Girlies Headcanons🩵

Characters : Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Hyacinth. Bonus Kate and Penelope

Briefly Mentioned Characters : John Stirling, Philip Oliver and Amanda Crane, Anthony, Violet, Gregory, and Madame Delacroix

Note : Everyone gets 2 headcanons with one being modern and one period. Also spoilers (from the books) on Eloises period headcanon, so skip if you want. Also Hyacinth was shockingly hard to write for, but i tried my best!

A/N : I’m back!! I took pride month off bc i had real life things going and i basically spent the month being extra bi lol. Hope y’all had a good month and lets get back to writing and having fun ☺️🩵

P.S my request are open :)

🩵 I feel like Daphne would become a little bit of a match maker. I feel like she wants everyone to have what she and her mom has, which is a love match. If she say that a lady was crushing on a lord or the other way around, she would become a wing woman lol.

🩵 Eloise would take every and any classes where she can learn about social issues and history she can get her hands on in college. I feel like El would get her doctorate and become a professor in literature. She also took time in between degrees to travel the world.

🩵 Ik it’s a pretty popular headcanon that El is such a good mom but I truly feel like Philip married El bc she took Oliver and Amanda under her wing. It takes time for Eloise to not feel like she’s not replacing Marina, but once she does she loves them like they r her kids. Yes she would teach them how to become respected members of the ton, but also how to be kind, not to be scared to have a sharp tongue, and to never be afraid to be themselves.

🩵 I feel like once Fran found her voice she would frequently have no problem holding her own in debating her siblings. It’s Anthony and Eloise r the most shocked by it but welcome it nevertheless. I also feel like El would be secretly proud of her.

🩵 Fran would become a private piano teacher to the local members of high society in Scotland. She would take all kinds of students from children to young debutantes. I feel like she would convince John that this isnt for money, but truly for her love of playing music.

🩵 I feel like Hyacinth would become a writer. She keeps some of her childish wonder and with the help of the family she finally would publish her work. She specifically writes young adult romance and fantasy books.

🩵 Once Violet lets her finally read Whistledown she👏🏻goes👏🏻HAM👏🏻!! She had her governess keep all copies for the moment she was finally aloud. And lord, does she run to Pen. She talkes to Pen about all of her work; not only giving her endless praise, but also seeing if there was anything she didn’t include. She also tells Gregory about all of it (of course against his will, but he secretly doesn’t mind).

BONUS

🩵 It’s incredibly important to Kate that her children grow up knowing both her Indian culture and Anthonys British culture. I feel like she is one of those moms that will teach and speak Hindi at home so her children r bilingual. She just overall is a classic Indian mom lol.

🩵 I’ve talked about this before but i feel like Kate would really take Hyacinth under her wing. As the lady of the house, she wants her to have a great debut, not just bc it reflects on her but bc she knows Hyacinth deserves it. She also prepares her for the ups and downs of society. She knows how Hyacinth lowkey has rose tinted sunglasses on when it comes to being part of the ton, but she stresses to her that it’s ok if she isn’t perfect. I also feel like she does the same for Gregory, preparing him as much as she can, and they regularly practice on how to talk to ladies (she also gets Anthony to help him too).

🩵 Ik this is cheesy but i feel like even in the modern world Pen would be a writer, and would go under a false name. It would start with fanfics (something tells me she was writing Harry Potter and Twilight fics on fanfic dot net lol) but as she got older she would take it more seriously. She would write romance books and once she had a following she would do a whole face reveal and would do events. She would also have undercover accounts in her fandom to see what her audience really thinks of her work.

🩵 She definitely keeps her friendship with Madame Delacroix even after everything comes out. They have a weekly catch up and would even shout her out more in Whistledown now that everyone knows. She would even invite her over to her and Colin’s estate, not caring about what the ton thinks. (Bc lets be real Pen really doesn’t give a fck lol)

[asnowfern]

We’re Not Strangers, We’re Lovers

Summary: Cassian's muscles twitched as every fibre of his being screamed at him to go after her. He didn't know her, not in this lifetime, not yet. OR another take on the reincarnation/soulmate trope. 

Rating: Mature

CW: Implied character death

Word count: 3.1k

Read on AO3

A/N: Written for day 4 of @cassianappreciationweek : Lover💕💕💕

Enjoy!

Hazy sunlight streamed through the curtains into the room, brightening up the room in the orange glow of sunrise. Cassian's eyes fluttered open to observe his surroundings. 

The room was functional and barely decorated, the kind that said bachelor's pad without being overly obvious about it. He shifted his hand and sunk into soft flesh, pulling the warm body close. Slender arms wrapped around him in response.

"Good morning, governess," he greeted, his voice hoarse from sleep. He traced her neck with his lips, watching in delight as it left a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

The bed creeked slightly as she flipped around to face him, fixing him with a mock stern look with those piercing green eyes. 

"Good morning," she returned primly, her hand moving to fist his morning arousal. A flicker of amusement sparked in her eyes as he groaned. She continued, tutting, "Didn't your Oxford educators teach you that this isn't the way to greet a polite lady?" 

His lips tugged up to flash her a rakish grin, "Perhaps I'm due for a refresher, governess." 

He leaned in to capture her lips and-

A loud beeping blared across the room, the synthetic sound at odds with the suddenly archaic furnishing of their environment. 

Cassian snapped his eyes open, taking in the familiar modern room fittings. He sighed heavily as he looked down at his raging erection. 

He padded lazily to the bathroom. His eyes shut close as his brain too easily conjured those emerald eyes and how those plump lips would feel wrapped around his cock, quickly drawing out his release with a grunt.

It was one of those damned dreams again.

They started when he was ten as he was playing around with Rhys and Az, foolishly racing to be the first to top the tree. One misstep later, Cassian was knocked unconscious on the ground with two panicky boys.

It was during that bout of unconsciousness that began the first of a very, very long series of dreams. It was of a beautiful girl, similarly aged around ten. She had flaxen hair that glowed with the sun and crystal blue eyes that could get her anything she wanted. They played in fjord, chasing sheeps and each other. Cassian never wanted the dream to end. 

And it didn't. 

The dreams continued to follow him even after he had fully recovered from the fall. Dreams of him with multiple girls - chasing the beautiful blonde in the fjords, splashing water with an Indian girl who sported cute dimples along the Indus River, running and giggling around the English countryside with a ginger, scouring through Chinese libraries with the delicate female with the beauty mark. As he grew, so did the girls in his dreams. Many girls but Cassian knew from the whispering voice deep within him that they were all one person. His soulmate, a love that transcended lifetimes.

Haunted by the stories of past loves was a curse and a blessing. A blessing to know that there was someone out there for him, a curse that got bothersome after nearly twenty years of waiting. That left him oscillating between doubting his own sanity and wondering if the fates skipped out on him this go round.

Turning off the tap with another sigh, he stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry, mindlessly getting himself dressed and ready for the day ahead. He internally hummed along to the boppy tune as he waited for the traffic light to turn. Glancing up to the red man sign, Cassian's mouth went dry. 

Standing at the opposing end of the crossing was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Golden brown hair swept into a neat coronet braid with bored stormy blue eyes that assessed her surroundings with casual ease. The voice whispered to Cassian once more. There she is, the one you've been waiting for. 

His muscles twitched as every fibre of his being screamed at him to go after her. He didn't know her, not in this lifetime, not yet. With his mind so wholly focused on figuring out how to approach her, he failed to notice the rushing commuter barreling his way into Cassian's back with his eyes still glued to his phone, failed to seize his muscles and absorb the impact. Instead, Cassian fell headfirst into the oncoming traffic.

The last pair of eyes he saw were wide, concerned stormy blue eyes. He attempted to lift a heavy hand towards her only for darkness to overtake his being.

***

Alarm and panic surrounded him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Amidst the chaos, soft fingers interlaced with his, radiating comfort and warmth.

"There's so much blood," a small gentle voice sliced through the noise, reaching his ears effortlessly, "Hang in there, love. Help is on its way." 

So Cassian did. Through the sirens and curt instructions from paramedics, Cassian clutched on tightly to the warmth in his palm. Don't let go, never let go.

He looked up with hooded lids at the look of breathless ecstasy on his wife as her thighs clamped tightly around his head. With a satisfied smile, he rode her through her release. He slid up the length of her body, taking care not to press any weight on her belly. 

“Well, breakfast was delicious if I could say so,” he said smugly, licking his fingers. 

“Cad!” She laughed, playfully pushing his face away as he leaned in for a kiss. She glanced at the rising sun through the window and heaved a gentle sigh, “You should get ready for work.” 

He rose from the bed to wash up, letting the covers slide off his body and blanket his wife. Just as he was about to leave the house, he rounded back to the bed, dropping a kiss on her forehead and lowered to level himself to her middle, pressing his forehead to the small bump, “You be good today and not give your mummy any trouble, alright?” 

She smiled, pulling him up for a chaste kiss, "Have a good day at work, love."

"Catch you later, stranger," he promised, his heartstrings tugging at him as a cloud of sleepiness visibly descended on her.

"Not if I catch you first," she murmured, sighing contently as he adjusted the blankets.

With one last longing look, he exited the house, counting down every minute until he could return to his growing family. It was with the same drive to return that got him through the day and happily walking back home when a fire truck raced past him. He quickened his pace, an unsettling fear blossoming in his stomach. His heart leapt to his throat as he saw the fire that engulfed his home.

No. 

No, he thought desperately, sprinting towards the building. Not when they had finally found their little cocoon of peace, not when he had finally returned from fighting in the Great War.

He ignored the blustering warnings from the firefighters and rushed headfirst into the inferno. His heart pounded in his ears in time with the roar of the flames around him, overpowering even his own frantic cries for his wife. The world around them slowed as he spotted the familiar collapsed feminine form. 

His breath only returned to him as she blinked her eyes opened. "Let's go, baby. Let's go," he murmured into her hair as he enveloped her with his large frame, protectively shielding her out. 

Just as they were a couple of steps away from the door, he heard an ominous creak in the ceiling. Instinctively, he pushed her out of the way and allowed the heavy concrete to crush him instead of her. 

Because it would always be her. There was only ever her. 

So he stopped her from trying to lift the heavy structures crushing him and shakily reached for her hand instead, pulling her close enough to gently stroke her dirt smeared face for the last time. 

"No, you're not leaving me like this," she declared tearfully, steely stubbornness bright in her eyes, "I'm going to get help so promise you'll hold on." 

"Swear it!" She repeated forcefully when he remained silent. 

He held her gaze for a sorrowful beat, acutely aware of the darkness edging his vision. "Go, it isn't safe here for the both of you."

Conflict warred in those sapphire orbs before her body angled towards the exit, "You hang on for as long as you need to." 

He pushed past the heavy agony to give a shaky smile, "I'll catch you later, stranger." 

The beautiful angelic voice reached him easily even as his eyes shut close, likely for the last time.

"Not if I catch you first."

***

Cassian blinked blearily, his vision sharpening with every steady beep of the machine next to him. 

"Cass" a familiar baritone voice breathed next to him, shrouding him in a rain of salt and citrus. 

Rhys, friend, his brain helpfully provided. 

He groaned as he turned his head to the side and the small movement triggered a pounding against the inside of his skull. Rhys's usual sharp violet eyes were alight with worry, his brows creased as he swiped a thumb over Cassian's damp cheeks, "You're crying." 

Cassian slouched back into the hospital bed. His insides twisted achingly as his brain caught up with the dream. He wanted so desperately to be with them and Cassian could still feel every pain, regret and longing. He inhaled sharply, taking in the ache in his lungs and exhaled, feeling the pounding in his head and heaviness in his leg. 

These pains were his and his alone. He focused on the thought to dissociate himself from the man in his dreams. 

"What happened?" He asked. 

"You were hit by a car about two junctions from the gym," Rhys said, concern and uncertainty lacing every word, "Do you remember?" 

Rhys continued when he didn't respond, "You suffered a blow to the head. I heard a blonde woman accompanied you to the hospital." 

Something twinged in him at those words. 

"A blonde?" 

"Yes, a blonde lady was at the scene. She called the ambulance and rode it with you to the hospital." Rhys's shoulders loosened as he raised an arched brow, almost in amusement. 

The image of the stunning female with the braided crown and piercing blue eyes cut through the fog in his brain. Next to Cassian, the machine beeped a little faster, something Rhys clocked with a quirk of his lips. 

"Is she still here?" 

"The woman? No, the nurse mentioned she left right after hearing your condition wasn't serious and we were coming." Rhys replied, continuing with a scowl, "But really? You just woke up from an accident and the only thing on your mind is picking up a girl?" 

Cassian flashed him a grin, "Is that not how you know that I'm alright?"

"You're an idiot."

***

Three years later

A buzz from his phone dragged Cassian away from his computer screen. 

Emerie: I invited a friend to class later. Don't be weird about it.

Cassian: Excuse me, I am a professional😤

Emerie: Sure💁🏻‍♀️

Putting his phone away, Cassian returned his attention to updating the gym's website and did not give the conversation much thought for the rest of the afternoon. Not until evening rolled by and Emerie entered the gym with another woman trailing behind her. 

Cassian halted as his world froze to a standstill around him. 

It was her. 

With cheekbones so sharp one might cut themselves with it (oh, how his hands itched to try) and assessing steely blue eyes, she appeared exactly as Cassian remembered. But somehow, even more breathtakingly beautiful. 

Their gazes locked for a moment as she scanned the gym, her lips pursed into a tight line. Cassian cut across the practice mats, stretching his arms, knowing full well how they flexed in his muscle tee. Next to her, Emerie rolled her eyes.

"Hey, Ems. This, your friend?" 

The brunette tilted her head to the side in confirmation, "This is Nesta."

He turned to her. Her eyes burned with a fiery strength as her chin tilted up, daring him to make a move. His lips twitched, "Do you have any experience in MMA or martial arts in general?" 

She shook her head, "First time."

"You'll do great," he said sincerely. 

His belief cemented into conviction as she gave a derisive huff. She had a fighter's spirit, that's for sure. 

He clapped his hands to gather the students, barking loudly. "Let's start with warm-ups. Laps around the gym. Let's go!" 

The training proceeded smoothly, Nesta possessed far more grace than any beginner should, catching on the legwork with a natural ease. She stood fists at the ready to swing at the punching bag, grunting in frustration as her wrapped knuckles made a lackluster impact on the apparatus.

"May I?" He asked, raising his arms and hovering them around her shoulders in question. 

At her nod, he stepped behind her, so close that he could feel the delicious heat that she radiated, and gently grasped her forearms. She stiffened in his grip, a tenseness that made the muscle in his jaw feather and sent a surge of cold rage through him.

He could kill whoever tried to hurt her. Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and guided her arms into the two-step jab and uppercut motions, his body twisting and swinging in tandem with hers, "Use the momentum of your entire body." 

He released the grip, his hand flexed at the loss of contact. With a look of renewed determination, Nesta attacked the bag once more. The bag swung hard with her strengthened blow. Exhilaration and relief overtook her face, splitting it into a white smile that took his breath away.

"Now you get it, Nes." 

She raised a perfect brow, "Nes?" 

He crossed his arms and shrugged, "I like it." 

"I don't," she returned, the words not having much heat to it.  

Cassian leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, "But I think you do." 

He couldn't help but laugh at her scowl as rose tipped her ears. 

The words echoed soundlessly across the gym as Nesta attacked the bag relentlessly with a series of strikes, each blow getting more precise than the next. Never again will I be powerless, never again.  

***

"Flat white for Nesta?" The barista's voice boomed over the noise of the cafe.

Cassian's head snapped up as his attention on his phone vanished instantly. He instantly drifted to her, his body moving on its own accord like a magnet. 

"Nes"

Azure orbs widened a smidge as she tilted her head to him, the micro muscles of her face jumped as she scalded herself on the hot beverage. She maintained a careful silence as she capped her tumbler. 

Finally, she turned to him, "Didn't expect to run into you here." 

The place in question was a quaint coffee shop whose patrons consisted primarily of staff and students of the nearby Velaris University. 

He held the door as they exited the building, his steps falling in line effortlessly with hers as he answered, "I'm pursuing a degree in physiotherapy. Expanding my reach as an instructor." 

"That's incredible," she admitted as grey blue eyes flashed with admiration, "You're a decent instructor. It suits you."

"I'm still at the halfway mark," he nudged her shoulders teasingly, "You'll still see me at the studio for a couple more years yet."

"Well," she scrunched a button nose, a sight so adorable his heart squeezed in response, "I prefer Azriel anyway." 

He placed a dramatic hand on his chest, “Az always steals the good ones.”

They settled at a bench overlooking the Sidra which leads into the sea, silver light glinted and twinkled in the reflection. The light gush of the moving water accompanied Nesta’s small sigh of content as she sipped on her coffee. 

It was a perfect view of the river and the skyline of the skyscrapers that towered over Velaris. But all Cassian could and wanted to do was to stare at the woman seated next to him, at the curl of golden tendrils framing her face, her lips shaped in a slight pucker as she blew on her coffee, steely blue eyes stared pointedly at the body of water. He could do this forever. 

Something in him purred in agreement like a lazy cat resting on a heated surface. Keep her, make her stay, it crooned. 

"I got into an accident a few years back," he said suddenly, shattering the easy silence that settled over them. His hand unconsciously rubbed his healed knee, "the doctor said it was a miracle I regained as much function in my leg as I did. But it wasn't just me, I had an incredible physiotherapist who literally walked me back to health."

"That's why you do this," she surmised.  

He smiled, "That's why I do this but that's not why I'm telling you this." 

Hazel eyes bore into silvery blue, "What really pushed me through my sessions was a mysterious beautiful woman who held my hand the entire time I was in the ambulance, only wrenching it away when I was pulled into the ER," her lips parted as her breath hitched imperceptibly, "a mysterious woman that disappeared before I woke up, leaving no trace of how I could find her, thank her, ask her out." 

Their faces were now inches apart, close enough that he could make out and count each freckle speckled on the bridge of her nose. Her gaze dipped slightly to his lips before raising back to his eyes, a small smile played on her lips just before she leaned in and closed the gap. 

Cassian's mind was wiped blank. Then the sensation of soft lips pressed against him moved. That spurred him to action, raising a hand to envelope her cheek as he deepened the kiss and slid in a tongue through parted lips. 

Nesta tasted like warm fire on a cool winter night, sending heat through his veins and lighting his entire being ablaze. A rough tug on his hair had him groaning into her mouth. He pulled her closer as tongue and teeth battled for dominance. 

It was an effortless bliss that was simultaneously new and old to Cassian. 

"So dinner tomorrow night?" He asked, chest still heaving from the kiss. 

Nesta laughed, a sound so bright and lilting. "Tomorrow night," she agreed and recited her digits, pausing occasionally as his fingers tapped them into his phone, "I guess I'll catch you later, stranger." 

He froze. 

The words wrangled through his soul and left the organ in chest reeling. Finally, a heavy presence lifted and Cassian felt anew.

"Not if I catch you first."

End

[crodur]

One day I gotta talk a little bit about the Selk'nam tribe, formerly located in Chile. As late as in XIX century they were hunted down as if they were animals, and Chile did nothing to stop it. Fortunately, nowadays there's still a tiny ammount of people with Selk'nam roots trying to recover what is left of their culture.

They had quite a unique mythology, designs for the supernatural, and beliefs. Like most ''isolated'' cultures, their way of portraying the world around them was quite peculiar.

That's what happens when a country leaves it's people on their own. That's what could have happened to the North Sentinel islanders (I talked about them here), if the indian goverment didn't step in to protect them.

But that's for another day. I promise I'll come back to this soon, my adhd will force me to!

[ladylaviniya]