#bd job today

[jobresulttoday]

চাকরির খবর: আপনারা যারা চাকরির প্রস্তুতি নিচ্ছেন। তারা হয়তবা ভালো করে জানবেন যে প্রতি শুক্রবারে ”সাপ্তাহিক চাকরির খবর পত্রিকা” প্রকাশিত হয়। Read More…

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Laundry Day (Cal Kestis x reader)

Summary: Cal can’t always control when his psychometric powers grant him a glimpse of the past. And even less so when the object holds a powerful emotional echo.

Or: Cal picks up the shirt you masturbated in.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI; afab!reader but no pronouns used; no use of y/n; porn with some plot; hints of voyeurism if you squint; sub!Cal if you squint; first kiss; first time; hand job; masturbation; if I missed anything please let me know!

A/N: This is shameless and self-indulgent and hastily written before the motivation left. I will not apologize.

Word Count: 2,205

Read it here on AO3!

NSFW below the cut!

You clench your jaw, the damp fabric of your shirt caught between your teeth as you struggle to keep quiet. But gods your fingers feel so good circling your clit and you’re absolutely soaked right now and you have to be quiet because Cal is sleeping in the room across the hall.

The thought of Cal overhearing your late-night activities makes your pussy clench around nothing. Eyes falling shut, you gather some more wetness and press more firmly on that bundle of nerves that has you on fire. Images of Cal’s toned forearms, freckled face, powerful thighs flash through your mind. You stifle a groan.

This is so bad, and you know it. You shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your friend—never mind the fact that he’s a Jedi. But even when he’s only hidden behind a few thin durasteel walls, he occupies your mind. The way his eyes dance with fiery determination when a new opportunity to strike against the Empire arises. The way his plush lips curve up into sarcastic smiles at your jokes. His tenderness with BD. His softness with you.

And that’s what gets you all riled up in the first place: it’s just how genuinely good Cal Kestis is. There’s not a mean bone in his body. He takes care of you, and you of him, and the domesticity of it all drives you absolutely insane.

Which leads you here. You finally plunge two of your fingers into your tight, wet heat, imagining—wishing—it was Cal’s fingers instead. Exhaling a shaky breath, you crook your fingers up against the spongy wall of your cunt and press. Your hips rock involuntarily, and the added friction against your clit has your toes curling. You breathe deep through your nose, loosening your muscles as the wave of pleasure zinging through you crests.

And you cum, teeth unlatching from your shirt as you gasp out Cal’s name.

Once the aftershocks die down, you shuck the shirt off over your head, the neckline entirely damp with your now-cooling saliva. The temperature is uncomfy; you snatch a clean shirt from beneath your bunk to wear instead. Tossing the soiled shirt toward your growing laundry pile, you settle down under the covers at last, curling on your side as sleep finally, finally takes you.

The next morning when you wake, the comforting hum of the hyperdrive engine is silent. You must’ve arrived at your next destination while you slept. Good. Even though it’s only been you and Cal for about a year now, you still try to keep some extra supplies on board in case any of the old crew decide to rejoin you and Cal. And after your last run-in with the Empire, forcing you into hiding for a standard month, all of your supplies are low. You’ll use this opportunity to restock.

But first, you need to wash up. The lights on both Cal’s door and the ’fresher are green, meaning he’s probably up in the cockpit with BD. Slipping into the ’fresher, you lock the door behind you and turn the knob to heat the water up. Your sleep clothes crumple to the floor as you shuffle out of them, trying to focus on creating a mental list of the supplies you’ll need to pick up today. Yet, your traitorous mind keeps drifting back to your solo fun last night—heat throbbing between your legs at just the thought of how hard you came—and you shake your head angrily at yourself.

“Get a grip,” you grumble.

As if summoned by your thoughts, there’s a knock at the door. You jump. Your heart hammers in your throat.

“Kriff, Cal, you scared me,” you call through the door.

“Sorry,” he calls back, and you hear the genuine regret in his voice. “I just wanted to check to see if you had any laundry? It’ll be a bit before we’re able to get it done after today.”

“Good thinking,” you say. “There’s a pile on my floor. I can get it, though; don’t worry about my stuff.”

He doesn’t respond, and you visualize the sardonic, two-fingered salute he’s recently gotten in the habit of giving. A smile quirks your lips.

A smile that is quickly obliterated as a jolt of pure anxiety bursts through you. Gods, knowing Cal, he’s already gone to grab your dirty laundry, and the shirt—the fucking shirt—is right on top, and you know he can’t always control his psycho-Force-whateveritscalled powers.

The ’fresher door slams open and you dash across the narrow hall to your room.

To your horror, Cal is in fact there, gathering your clothes from the floor, and the warning to wait gets choked in your throat as he grabs the shirt on the top of the pile, the one that’s surely still damp with your spit and sweat.

His entire body stiffens, eyes widening, his grip on the other clothes going limp as he experiences the Force echo you’ve left behind. Feeling like you’ve been doused in gasoline and ice at the same time, it finally registers for you that you’re naked in front of Cal fucking Kestis and he’s feeling you cum to the thought of him.

“Cal, I—”

“Oh.” The strangled moan that tears from his throat has your mind reeling, never in a million years imagining that you’d ever hear him make such a lewd noise, let alone in reaction to you.

You reach for him, placing a shaking hand on his arm. “Are- Are you okay?”

He blinks and seems to physically re-enter this current moment. His cheeks are bright pink, his chest heaving. At his wide-eyed once over of your naked form, your knees nearly give out.

“I’m so sorry,” you continue. Panic seizes at your lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I shouldn’t have- I should have- I’m so so sorry, Cal, I can leave if you want—”

“Hey.” He rests both of his large, warm hands on your bare shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Deep breaths. I’m not- I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” You try to catch your breath, but the darkening of his green eyes has your breath catching for an entirely different reason now.

He shakes his head. “How long?”

Chewing at the inside of your cheek nervously, you drop your gaze. “Months. Since we first met.”

Gently, he guides your chin up so that you meet his gaze again. His eyes are soft—darker than usual, yes—but there’s that familiar softness to them that unwinds some of the tension in your chest. He holds your gaze long enough for your heart to stop pounding, but you can’t will away the swirling pit of regret pulling at your insides. He’s not mad, which is great, but he’s still not said anything and you can’t figure out what he might say or what he’s feeling or—

“Can I kiss you?”

You blink dumbly. “What?”

A faint smile ghosts over his features. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh gods yes,” you squeak out.

A true smile tugs at his lips, and then slowly, giving you ample time to change your mind and pull away, he leans down, one hand supporting the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek. Your eyes close and you stand on your toes, meeting him halfway.

His lips are as soft as you imagined, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes you as he pulls you flush against him. Your bare, heated skin presses against the leather of his chest piece, tantalizing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. Snaking one hand up into his silken hair, your other grips at his muscled bicep, grounding yourself. His mouth moves slowly against your own.

This is really fucking happening.

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against your own. You peer up through your eyelashes at him.

“I take it you feel the same?” you ask, breathless.

“Since we met,” he affirms in a low tone. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you catch the digit between your teeth and suck. He groans. “Gods, if I’d known...”

You just hum, swirling your tongue around his thumb until he withdraws, only to kiss you again. Electricity feels like it dances along your skin where he touches you. Blindly, you tug him backwards with you until your legs hit the bunk. Lowering yourself, he follows, bracing himself over you with his forearms to either side of your head, caging you in. With a soft moan, you hook a leg over his hips and drag him down to you. The friction of his clothes against your aching core makes you hiss.

“Fuck, take these off, please,” you plead, tugging with weak fingers at his shirt.

He sits up just long enough to rip the offending garments off, and you practically drool at the sight of his toned chest as it is revealed to you. Scars litter the otherwise smooth alabaster, and you know you’ll take your time at a later date tracing them, committing them to memory. Right now, though, your attention is drawn farther down as he shimmies out of his pants. His hard cock, the tip a gorgeous shade of pink, bobs as it comes free of its confines.

“Oh gods,” you groan. “May I?”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard his voice so strained before, and you are nothing if not eager to continue drawing sounds from him. Wrapping your fingers tentatively around the hot shaft of his dick, you hum in delight at the way he twitches in your grip. You slowly work his cock, eyes trained on his face, catching every flutter of his eyelashes, every time he bites his lip, every miniscule reaction you can possibly gain from him.

“I want you inside me,” you say.

He groans. “I- I’ve never—”

“It’s alright,” you soothe. You release him for a moment to gather some of the slick from between your folds—and can’t resist rubbing your pussy for just a few seconds, letting a broken moan fall from your lips. Then you use the slick to lube his dick up.

“C’mere,” you say, your legs widening for him to slot in between. “I’ve got you. Say the word and it all stops.”

“I want this,” he says, eyes trained on yours as he settles himself between your thighs. “I want you.”

You hum in delight and, guiding him, line his cock up with your neglected entrance. Wrapping your legs around him, you press down with your heels to push him into you.

His head falls to your shoulder with a broken, gasping moan. You clench at the burning stretch of him filling you, nails digging into his smooth skin. He’s not even touched you, barely begun to fuck you, and you’re already ready to cum.

“Cal,” you murmur, caressing his back, “you okay?”

“S’alot,” he mumbles against your skin. “Can I—?”

“Yes, please.” You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Make love to me, Cal.”

With a whine, he slowly withdraws, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously on your walls, and then pushes back into you just as slowly. You moan with him at the sensation of filling and being filled, unsure where you begin and he ends, lost in the feeling of just him. He sets a languid pace, kissing your neck, murmuring sweet words in your ear: “You feel so good. Take me so well. Fuck, I needed this. Needed you.”

When he adjusts his grip on you, reaching beneath your body to support your hips, you laugh breathlessly.

“Gonna cum like this.”

He bites down on the sensitive juncture between your neck and shoulder as he snaps his hips against yours, making you cry out. The agonizingly slow pull out, the moment’s pause where only his tip remains in your dripping pussy, and then the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he slams back into you: it’s all you know. It’s all you’ve ever known, all you ever will know. You babble praises, begging, pleading with him, the coil in your belly growing tighter and hotter the harder he fucks into you.

“Can feel you’re close,” he slurs. “Cum for me. Please.”

That’s what does it, hearing him beg for you to cum on him. You go rigid, white flashing in your eyes as the tight coil snaps. Pleasure floods through you, and dimly you’re aware of Cal growling against your ear as he rocks you through it, his promises of cumming in you only serving to draw out the shockwaves of your orgasm. You think you scream. And then, when you feel his dick pulse as he goes absolutely still, you cum again.

He’s laughing when you come down from your high. He remains in you even as he begins to go soft, his giddy, breathless giggles pure music to your ears.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

“I just— this is not how I expected today to go,” he says, still laughing.

You smile. “Maybe you should do the laundry more often, hm?”

He just kisses you, and you’re content with that answer.

[supercorpkid]

Ooooo okay

So inspired by your runaway dancers fic (so good) but BD didn't run away just kind off suffered in silence faded into the background

But like BD is just feeling left out cause Alex and Kara are like a team both work for the DEO and constantly have sister nights and are just really close

And like Lucy Lane and Lena Luthor both know what it's like to be the black sheep (so do Alex and Kara they just don't notice it) and like BD isn't invited to sister night so Lucy and Lena take BD to go have fun and take BDs mind off of it

And then the sisters realise (somehow maybe they overhear or they get confronted) they have left out BD and apologise and all make up

So like angst and fluff for BD (you can change any off the plot this is just something to help spark ideas)

You're On Your Own, Kid.

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, Lucy Lane.

Word count: 1900

They are everywhere. Everywhere you look, the heroes of National City catch your eye, and you're left swallowing the lump in your throat. They're your sisters. There shouldn’t be a lump in your throat at the sight of them. But recently, things have been taking a hard turn for you.

You love your job. Really, you do. Taking care of little animals and being a veterinarian brings you joy. But sometimes, you wish you had chosen something more impactful—not just for the world, but for your sisters.

Alex is an agent. A badass one, armed with alien tech, and she’s an incredible doctor, skilled in both human and Kryptonian anatomy. Kara has just become a prominent reporter at one of the biggest media empires in National City and, of course, she’s also one of the planet's greatest superheroes. 

And here you are, examining dog feces for worms.

You don’t mind. There’s no way to express this without sounding jealous, which you’re really not. Your heart swells with pride when Kara saves the world. When you see Alex doing something extremely dangerous yet incredibly badass, you want to shout from the rooftops that she’s your sister.

But lately, you’ve been feeling lonely and a bit left out. They have so much in common and spend so much time together that, little by little, you're left on the sidelines. It started with conversations about things you knew nothing about, then inside jokes you weren’t part of, then secrets. Now, spending time with them is emotionally draining, but not being around them feels even worse.

“Did you see this?” A technician shoves her phone in your face. You smile at Supergirl’s picture and the headline, though she can’t see it because you're wearing a mask.

“Chichi doesn’t have worms.” You remove your gloves, organize the space, and reach for her phone to read the entire news. “Whoa, Supergirl saved the world today!” You look up. “Isn’t it crazy to think we could’ve died analyzing feces if it wasn’t for her?”

“I know! I wish I knew her. I’d make sure she knew she saved us from the most embarrassing death ever.”

You think to yourself that you’ll let Kara know this as soon as you’re out of the clinic. It might have been a while since you two last talked, but you think your sister would appreciate hearing about her heroics. Everyone likes compliments, after all.

“We should go out to celebrate.”

“Not being dead?”

She nods enthusiastically. You almost take her up on it but think better of it. You want to celebrate, but you’d rather do it with Supergirl herself. Buy her potstickers and thank her in person.

You can’t buy Kara potstickers every time she saves the world—you’d go bankrupt in a few months. But not dying an embarrassing death calls for it, honestly.

You leave work and head to her favorite restaurant, and soon you're on your way to her apartment. As you’re about to knock, you hear Alex’s voice inside.

“Ayy!” she exclaims in an uncharacteristic manner. “Sisters’ night with cold beer after you saved the world and I saved your butt at CatCo was an awesome idea.”

Sisters’ night?

You check your phone to make sure you haven’t missed a text. No, you definitely weren’t invited to this impromptu sisters’ night. You try to muster the courage to knock anyway. They weren’t expecting you, but Kara wouldn’t—

“Golly, eating potstickers after saving the world with my family is the best feeling in the universe.”

You turn around without a second thought. It’s awfully sad how unsurprising this is to you. It doesn’t take you off guard, it doesn’t even make your stomach drop. It’s nothing new.

Sure, you’ve been almost out of their lives. Haven’t hung out in a month, Kara hasn’t visited you at work in months, and the last time someone said anything in the text chain was when you asked if they’d heard from Mom that day. Alex simply said no. And that was two weeks ago.

But still, not being invited to a sisters’ night? It literally has that name because it’s a celebration of sisters! You’re a sister. Even if you are the least favorite one.

Great, you’re back at it again. Feeling like you always did back in Midvale. Feeling jealous of Kara and her friendship with Alex. Wanting what they have so badly. The understanding, the support, the “I’ll die for you” love that you only ever got little tastes of.

Ugh. You roll in your bed, trying to go to sleep and praying you wake up invisible.

It's been a week since you realized your sisters want you out of their lives, so you've been keeping to yourself. They haven't come looking for you, not even when you didn't make it to games' night and said nothing on the group chat.

You hear the doorbell and go answer it. It's been a while since anyone visited and you have no idea who could be behind that door. "Lena?"

"So you are alive!" 

"I guess?" You're puzzled by her visit. She's friends with your sisters. Sure, you've talked before, but she's Kara's best friend, not yours.

"Well, I wouldn't know. I haven't seen you in weeks." Lena glances inside your apartment and you finally realize you haven't invited her in yet. So you make space and she takes the chance to walk in. "You haven't been to any game's night, and haven't added anything to the group chat."

"Has —" The question burns in your throat and it needs to be asked. "Anyone else noticed?"

Lena stops, understanding your implication, and turns around slowly.

"Should anyone in specific notice it?"

You don't answer, and her expression demands more. You want to confide in her, but you can't. Lena is Kara's best friend. It wouldn't be fair to share something about your sister with her. So you bite your tongue and shrug. You're on your own. You always have been.

"Oh, no. No. Just curious."

"Well, I came to drag you to game night with me today and you can't say no!"

"No." Lena's face falls and you smile apologetically. "Sorry, I'm going out with some friends from vet school."

"But we're your family!" Lena tries again. Some family! They don't even notice you haven't been around in weeks. "Just come with me today and I'll stop bugging you." Before you open your mouth she adds, "Don't say no."

"No."

"See, you did it again." She pretends to be annoyed and you laugh.

"Sorry Lena, next one, maybe. This one is not gonna happen."

You don't make it to the next one, no matter how many times Lena texts you or tries to bribe you with your favorite food. You can’t go. How many sisters’ nights have they had that you weren’t a part of? How many times was it just them, never realizing something was missing? And worst of all, what if there isn't something missing to them? What if you're someone that people can't even miss?

You think you finally get Lena off your back. She stops texting you, so you're sure you won't have to explain yourself anymore or come up with lazy excuses.

“Y/N.” Your technician calls, and you raise your head from your computer. There were no emergencies today, so you've been just going over some patients' charts while you wait for the next one. “Some women outside are asking for you.”

You look at her with puzzled eyes.

“They don't even own a pet.” You furrow your brows harder and make your way to the front of the clinic.

“Lena? Lucy? What are you guys doing here?”

“We're taking you out for a drink,” Lena says, then adds in a more severe tone, “and seriously, I won't accept no for an answer this time.”

“I'm working and I have a patient.” You look at your schedule. “A cat named…” You raise your head at her, with an eyebrow raised. “Lex.”

“One of those bald ones that looks like it's inside out. Oh, be careful 'cause he bites.” She adds with a smirk.

You look back at the schedule to see that the last patient of the day also seems to be a prank from them. “And next, there is a dog named Clark.”

“He's a golden retriever! The sweetest, but super strong!” Lucy jokes, and you roll your eyes at their shenanigans.

“Can't believe you weirdos paid to hang out with me.”

“Oh, it was all Lena.” You chuckle, of course, it was Lena. Who else would literally throw money at your face so she could talk to you?

There's nothing you can say; you have to join them. You really like them both, but you know they are mostly your sisters' friends, so you can't tell them the real reason why you've been so MIA.

You've been more of a listener throughout the entire hangout. It's weird getting information about your sisters from Lena and Lucy instead of directly from them, but hey, it was their choice. You're just giving them the space they seem to want.

“So, when are you going to tell us about what's going on with you and why you've completely disappeared from our lives lately?”

“Nothing's happening,” you slur, not because you're drunk but because you don't want to talk.

“My bet was that you're in a new relationship,” Lucy says, and you wish she was right. It would make the loneliness you're feeling less prominent.

“I guess you lost the bet.”

Lena looks straight into your eyes. “Well, I think it has something to do with family.”

You don't answer, but the fact that you don’t is what makes them understand right away. Lena reaches for your hand on the other side of the table, and you swallow the lump in your throat and the tears coming.

“It's okay, darling.” She almost whispers in this packed bar full of drunk people. You still hear her perfectly and can hear the sweetness of her tone as well. “We both have been there too.”

“You have?”

Lucy smiles at Lena before turning to you. “Dude, we're the black sheep of our families. Of course we know what it's like not to belong with your family.”

“Yeah.” The tears threaten to leave your eyes again, and you do your best to swallow them down. “It's been hard. They're hanging out together so much, and they have so much in common.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean they don't miss you.” Lena tries, and you give her a watery chuckle.

“Trust me, they don't. You've reached out to me a lot more than they have in the past month. I don't think they even noticed I haven't been around.”

“That's crazy! Of course they noticed it!” It's Lucy who tries again.

“They had a sisters' night without me. They haven't texted me in a month, and I haven't been to so many game nights that I'd expect them to at least realize the counting of people has been wrong.”

“Oh, we haven't been playing group games these days.”

You just stare at them, not much left to say. They know where you're coming from, and there's no more excuses they can give for your sisters' behavior. Though, they aren't the ones supposed to be making excuses anyway.

After you get this confession out of the way, you can enjoy the night without having to tiptoe around the subject. Both Lena and Lucy are very understanding of your situation, and though you can feel they pity you, the overall feeling is warmth.

Because sisters' night is basically out of your vocabulary already, Lena and Lucy have turned the usual Thursday night into girls' night. It's the second one, and Lucy wanted to karaoke so you all ended up at the alien bar everyone usually frequents. 

You weren't thinking about your sisters at all when you agreed to meet them there. And you also forgot they could waltz in at any moment after three beers and one shot. You're at the bar waiting for another beer, when Lena next to you whispers, "o-oh."

"Hm?" You turn to her and automatically you follow her line of sight and see Kara and Alex entering the bar. "Oh, shit." The bartender places your beer in front of you and you turn around gulping in. "I have to go."

"What?" Kara comes closer before you have the chance to run out. "I thought you said you'd be working."

"Yeah, I finished up and —" Lena gets interrupted by Lucy who fails to read the situation and comes in yelling, 

"YAY, girls night!"

"Girls' night?" She raises one eyebrow to Lena. "Why was I not invited?"

"It hurts, aye." You can't help the grumble that leaves your mouth. Alex furrows her brows at you, hands finally out of her pockets. They share a look, before turning to you again.

"Sorry?"

Lena and Lucy quickly make their way to the karaoke claiming they're going to pick a song and you're left face-to-face with your biggest problem. You can't face them. Don't want to. It all feels unnecessary and you know you're the one who's going to get hurt in the end.

"I'll go help the girls." You point out and Alex stands in the way for you to leave.

"How about you stay and talk to us, instead? We haven't seen you in a while."

"And whose fault is that?" You widen your eyes to the words that just left your mouth. You can't believe you just said this. 

Alex and Kara's surprised faces aren't far behind, and so you breathe deep before you say something else to turn this into an argument.

"I'm gonna go." You repeat.

"No, you're not. Not when it seems like you have a bunch of things stuck on your throat."

And they are right, you do have so many things you'd like to tell them. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts and the courage to speak up. The bar suddenly feels too loud, too crowded, but you know this conversation can't wait any longer.

"Fine," you say, finally feeling brave enough to meet their eyes. "Let's talk."

Kara and Alex exchange a glance, then nod. Kara motions to a quieter corner of the bar, and you all move there. Once seated, you take another deep breath and start.

"It's just… I've been feeling left out. You two have been spending so much time together, and I feel like I'm just on the sidelines. Like I don't belong."

Alex's eyes soften, and Kara looks stricken. "Y/N, we had no idea you felt this way," Alex says gently. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"I didn't want to seem jealous or needy," you admit. "But it hurts when you have sisters' nights and don't invite me. Or when you have inside jokes that I'm not part of."

"Oh, baby. We never meant to exclude you," Kara says, her voice full of regret. "We thought you were busy with work or just needed space. We didn't realize you felt this way."

"Well, I do," you say, your voice trembling slightly while you try to hold back the tears. "And it sucks. I miss you both. I miss being part of your lives."

Kara reaches out and takes your hand. "We're so sorry. We love you and we want you to feel included. We'll do better, I promise."

Alex nods in agreement. "Absolutely. You're our sister, and we want you with us. Always."

Their words bring a rush of relief and you can't keep your tears in check anymore. "I just want to feel like I matter," you say, your voice breaking.

"You do matter," Kara insists. "More than you know. We're a team, and we need you."

Alex squeezes your other hand. "We'll make it right. No more sisters' nights without you. From now on, we do everything together."

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders. "Really?" You ask, heart daring to hope. They both agree so vividly with their heads, you can't not believe them fully. "That's all I wanted. I just want my sisters back."

Lena and Lucy return from the karaoke machine, eyeing the three of you with curiosity but giving you space. You share a small, relieved smile with your sisters. For the first time in a long while, you feel hopeful that things will get better.

Kara is the first to get up from her seat and pull you into a hug. Alex joins right after and soon you're sandwiched between your sisters and it's so nice you even forget you're in a bar.

But it's only for a brief second, until your friends come closer and join the hug. Soon after Kara runs to the karaoke machine to pick a song for you three to sing together, and Alex pays you another beer.

You can't believe you were away from your sisters for over a month, because nothing is good enough that it doesn’t get a hundred times better when they're around. You hope they are always around.

[geekywritings]

“Come back to bed.”

Today, I present to you my interpretation of the lovely anonymous ask I received:

“Reader was super touch starved before they started dating and Cal is super touchy, and she loves it but also has trouble getting used it. But her favorite thing is when he rubs her back (comfort or just to be close) and it just becomes a thing for them??"

Again, lots of fluff, so enjoy!

___________

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. On one hand, you feared it, on the other, you desired nothing more than to experience its effects. Thinking about it, your paradox connection to touch probably stemmed from your upbringing. Your mother had worked in one of the adult entertainment establishments of Nar Shadaa, with you growing up in this strange world of opposites.

Poor workers, rich clients. Big expectations, and crushed dreams. Honest touch and paid-for love. It all mixed together in this place, and you had watched it all from the kitchens where you were being kept while your mother served drinks to the various males that frequented the “The Pearl” every night.

Hugs were rare, as your mother wasn’t the type for it. She showed her affection in different ways, first and foremost by sending you away when you were old enough, thus saving you from a future in the establishment.

You attended a pilot academy and graduated among the top of your class. By that time, the Republic had fallen and the Empire was recruiting capable pilots left and right. Needless to say, the strict regime didn’t exactly encourage comradery and touch either.

And so you grew more and more hungry for it, while never quite knowing why.

You also hated working for the Empire. Payment was bad, the treatment of people horrendous and everything about it simply felt wrong.

It was by pure accident that you crossed paths with the rebels when one of them tried to pay you good credits to smuggle someone off-planet along with your booked cargo. You had agreed, mostly for the credits, to be honest, but eventually, helping people became a mission. A true purpose. Something fulfilling.

You also came to love one rebel in particular: Cal Kestis. You had run several missions for and with him until he eventually asked you to join his crew permanently. They could always use a good pilot, he argued. A good friend of his, Greeze, used to be the Captain of the impressive ship he used to get around, but the Latero had retired or was at least taking an extensive break.

And so your story with Cal had begun, quickly growing from allies to friends and eventually romantic partners. It had all happened so fast and your head still reeled from how the redhead had managed to worm his way into your heart. Never had you met anyone displaying such kindness, gentleness, patience and respect. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

He taught you how to fight as well, organizing a metal staff for you after you turned out to be a rather poor shot. You two sparred regularly, with the Jedi putting his combat training into good use to teach you new tricks.

The crew around you changed constantly. Some left, some died, some joined you only for a specific job. But Cal, BD-1 and you were a constant on the Mantis. They were your family and the ship your home.

Often, you would sit awake long into the night, staring out into the galaxy passing you by and thinking about what your life would have been like if your mother hadn’t saved up every credit to send you away.

“Didn’t you say you’d join me in 10 minutes?”

You turned and found Cal leaning against the doorway leading to the cockpit. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy, but a small smile was playing on his lips, as he crossed his arms in front of his bare chest.

“That was three hours ago, love.”, he added when you sent him a confused look.

“Oh…”, was all you could say, not having realized how much time had passed. Getting lost in memories did that to you.

Stifling a yawn, Cal moved to drop into the Co-pilot seat, green eyes searching yours.

“Can’t sleep again?” His voice was full of sympathy as he reached out a hand to rest on your knee.

There it was again: touch.

Cal always reached for you. Whether it was for a hug or a kiss, to hold your hand, to just feel you near or to make sweet love with you. Every touch from his was special and you did your best to reciprocate. You still remembered the look of pure joy the first time you initiated a hug or gave him a kiss or reached for his hand on your own. It helped you greatly to open yourself to the kind of love language you had yearned for, yet still needed to grasp fully.

You stared at his hand on your knee and slowly placed yours on top of his.

“I was thinking about my mother… and everything she did to give me a good life.”

Cal nodded in understanding, but didn’t say anything, allowing you to unload your thoughts. He knew your past and had even volunteered to help your mom, but she had disappeared from “The Pearl” after your graduation with no sign of her to be found.

“She saved you. That’s love.”, he eventually spoke and you smiled.

“I wish I could have shown her more that I loved her.”, you sighed. You regretted that you hadn’t hugged her more on your own accord.

“I am sure that she knew.”, Cal assured you, ever the supportive voice for your conscience.

You smiled at him and nodded, before slipping from the pilot’s chair into his lap, arms sneaking around him. “I love you, Cal… And I want to show you every day.”, you muttered into his neck, as his arms came to rest around you.

“You do show me every day, Starlight.”, he whispered back, holding you close. “And I am so very grateful for it, because I love you as well. To the end of the Galaxy and back.”

For a while you just sat in silence, enjoying the proximity, Cal's hand drawing small circles on your lower back. It was your favourite, really, the gesture always helping you relax.

“Now come back to bed, love.”, the Jedi whispered eventually and you nodded, allowing him to carry you back into your room, where you both gave into desire.

Touch… Such a simple thing. A sign of trust, a proof of friendship and a language of love all at the same time.

You’ve always had a strange relationship with the concept. But you were ready to open your heart to it fully, as long as Cal was with you.

[jewish-vents]

first - i just want to say thank you for making this blog. it’s so important to know that we aren’t alone in the many things we’re experiencing and feeling right now, especially when so many of us have become painfully isolated as of late.

i apologize for how long this one is going to be.

i’ve been feeling so, so alone recently. my tumblr dash has been cut down to just a handful of jewish blogs that i can trust to be kind and understanding and nuanced, but it means that the majority of the content i see is about antisemitism and the war. after a while, it becomes draining to scroll through what feels like endless sadness. i turned to looking at fandom tags instead of following fandom blogs, but it makes me feel equally as insane to click on a blog about race cars and immediately see a post with 60k notes calling what’s happening in gaza “the new holocaust”. i started going back on twitter, but fan accounts on there too are only safe for a day or so before the account owner shares some awful antisemitic tweet from an account known to be an anti-jewish extremist. i went back on instagram briefly, but i was soon afraid to look at people’s stories for fear i’d see something terrible and lose yet another trusted person from my life.

in person, i have to walk by signs saying “zionism = genocide” and hastily scribbled palestinian flags with the colors in the wrong spot on my way to class every day. a wall across from my apartment says “BDS” in giant letters. i haven’t opened my curtains in months because of it. a “protest” of about 25 people stood in the center of campus and yelled and waved their fists in passing students’ faces, so jewish students didn’t go to class on any of the days they gathered. i only have one non jewish friend left at school - the rest abandoned me because i either called them out on antisemitic rhetoric or refused to go along with the idea that anyone, palestinian or israeli, muslim or jewish, is less than human. i had taken several of them along to our hillel’s seder in the past. i don’t know who i can safely go with this year. i have a few jewish friends, of course, but i love bringing goyische friends with little connection to judaism along to experience how joyful and loving jewish holidays can be.

it feels like there is no escape from this fucking war. it sickens me that it’s the only thing people pretend to care about - where is the attention for sudan, ukraine, armenia, uyghurs in china, syria, guyana? how is putting an emoji in your twitter bio or putting a translucent overlay of the palestinian flag on your tumblr icon any sort of real activism? how have we gone from “antisemitism is wrong” to “(((zionists))) control the world media”? it seems like the war is a fandom to these people. it seems like nobody cares enough to fully read and think critically about what they share, let alone do real research beyond looking at an infographic somebody shared on their instagram story. they’ll add on “don’t forget your click today!” to an unrelated twitter thread that went viral, flip the bird at the local starbucks, and put “won’t you free my palestine” on their instagram stories. they’ll anonymously tell a jew online to commit suicide. they’ll feel secure in the knowledge that they’re the perfect leftist, that this is somehow “good trouble”. all this praxis, and nothing to show for it but massive surges in hate crimes against jews. good job, guys! you singlehandedly saved every innocent person in gaza!

it’s isolating. it’s scary. jews can’t mourn. jews can’t be angry. jews can’t disagree. jews can’t suffer. jews can’t be whole, complex people with diverse beliefs and experiences. suffering is a game, and the goal is to hurt the most, scream the most, die the most, all to appease western leftists whose closest connection to war and violence was reading the hunger games in middle school.

i’m tired of it all. i want a peaceful and just resolution to the war. i want the mindless hatred everywhere to stop. i want to be able to scroll through social media and see nothing but fandom. i want to walk through campus with my magen david showing and all the friends i lost by my side on the way to the hillel seder. i want to open my curtains again. i know the experience of one diaspora jew is nothing compared to what people living in israel and palestine are currently going through, yet i still need this all to end. i don’t think any of us can go on like this, but we must, because we have. for thousands of years, we’ve gone on. that still doesn’t mean it has to be this hard all the time.

all i can think is “now we are slaves. next year may we be free.” now we are slaves to hatred and violence and suffering. next year may we all be free. next year may we all be in jerusalem.

.

[kaypeace21]

[The future of this BLOG]: SHOWS I'm planning on analyzing here & on YouTube

Interview with the vampire

Invincible

House of the dragon

The boys

Umbrella acadamy

Bridgerton probably (still haven't had time to watch part 2 yet)

stranger things: I have mixed feelings about reviewing it given what certain staff has said and done. I oscilate between wanting to review the final season or wanting to boycott it (especially as someone who has been part of the BDS movement for 1/2 her life). But, on one hand, It's not the fault of the underpaid (and talented) writers and staff who don't have these views. And I do believe some of the writing staff may have good intentions and want to give us a positive and powerful message to the audience about healing from childhood tr*uma. However, other members of the writing staff may just want to go down the stereotypical and popular-easy route. We'll just have to wait and see what happens in the last season. If I hear the ending isn't simply another re-hashing of prior seasons and it's more like s1-2 (without the cliches of s3-4). I'd be more inclined to review it by *cough* and watching it elsewhere. Once I was logged back on to tumblr: I did have a whole draft saved about my politics since I was a kid and why I still feel so strongly about such conflicts, today . But, I shouldn't make the topic about me- and I'm not sure anyone wants to hear my life story XD. So, the big point (to my followers) is regardless of whether I chose to watch it or boycot it-

I'm not deleting the old ST content: so do what you want with it (like, reblog, add details to reblogs I didn't notice). Have fun :D !

Analyzing ST certainly helped me improve in terms of media literacy (and it'll be beneficial for the future content I make). So even if it sometimes got messy here, I do appreciate all the positives the ST blog and followers brought to me.The kind words meant a lot. For those who want to unfollow me for my political beliefs , that's totally fine. That's your prerogative. For those who want to unfollow cause again ST was pretty much my whole blog: again I TOTALLY understand and I wish you the best :). I'm not going to judge, take away, or guilt anyone, for their choice of media they like. Enjoy it (I truly mean that).

For those who continue to follow my blog . I appreciate you SO MUCH! I've been gone from this blog for such a long time cause of school (and I appreciate those who stayed and were excited to see me again). The positive words meant a lot over the years. Everyone have a lovely day. Take care of yourselves.

Sincerely, Kay

ps: I'm open to other media suggestions too so you can drop them in my message box (recent films/ shows, mini/limited series, animation, heck i'm open to comedies and foreign media too).But, analyzing them will most likely be after the shows listed above .Right now I'm focusing on my national exam and my mental health. My first video will probably be in late August or early September. My test is August 20th. Hope everyone is doing well .I'm feeling much better mentally. Hope everyone is feeling the same way :)

for my 1st video I’ll just post it to youtube . But for other videos I may make a early access patreon (like a week before the next video comes out free on youtube). Have to google how all that works (or if there's better alternatives) . Totally fine if you can't afford it (you'll get to see it for free on youtube regardless :D) . I'll be honest . I'm primarily thinking of doing it cause I need to pay off those student loans and I'm trying to hopefully move out of state in a few years. Plus, I love analyzing media anyways (so making it a part time job would be a dream come true .

[breakfastteatime]

Today's Fallen Order request is "That looks broken" for @blueflowertea

The sun shines outside, flowers bloom, Greez has freshly baked bread cooling in the galley and all is calm and quiet aboard the ship. The others have ventured into a nearby market, leaving Greez with the whole ship to himself. He’s set the navicomp to run maintenance routines, the deck is sparking from his intense scrubbing, he baked the aforementioned bread (mostly to get rid of the odour of whatever the heck Cal tracked in from their last stop on an honest-to-great-grandma swamp planet), and the refresher hasn’t been that tidy since the day the ship left the production line.

All in all, Greez has had a very productive day while the others go gallivanting, with their ‘the Force is calling me’ and ‘I wish to see a new world’ and scanning, always scanning. It’s the first time in too long Greez has been able to play his own music on the sound system too. Apparently Latero lounge funk is nauseating for Humans. And Greez means that literally – both Cere and Cal get all woozy and pale if he tries playing it. It makes Merrin giggle uncontrollably in a genuinely dangerous to her health kind of way.

Greez makes himself a cup of caf and prepares to sit down, maybe catch a pod race, when he hears familiar voices approaching. He switches off his music and watches BD lead the way. That’s unusual. He rarely puts his own feet on the ground unless…

Greez looks up. Cal is on his feet, conscious and limping. Cere and Merrin follow, Merrin looking extremely pleased with herself while Cere looks like she’s ready to catch Cal at a moment’s notice.

“What happened?” Greez asks.

“Cal did not look where he was going,” Merrin says. “He tripped over a market stall.”

“And did such a great job putting it back together the stall owner wasn’t even mad at me!” Cal flops down onto the couch. Good thing Greez didn’t get around to cleaning that off today. He’s covered in soil. “And I was looking where I was going. I just got distracted. Totally different problem.”

“Yes, you see something shiny, and all other thoughts fall out of your head,” Merrin says.

“Nah, that’s BD, right, buddy?”

BD cackles and dashes off to scan the terrarium.

“Take your boot off,” Cere says.

“I twisted it, Cere, it’s nothing.”

“Take your boot off. Greez, grab me the medscanner.”

Greez never, ever, messes with Cere when she’s using this tone of voice. Cal, on the other hand, is not that wise.

“I twisted my ankle. Some ice, a few stretches, it’ll be fine.”

“And how are you going to apply the ice with the boot on? Take it off. Now.”

Merrin snorts. Cal levels a glare at her. She heads off into her and Cere’s cabin. Greez hands over the scanner to Cere. He gives Cal a nudge. “There’s no need to turn this into a fight,” he whispers.

It isn’t much of a flashpoint, but it’s one nonetheless and despite all this time together, no one has managed to iron out Cal’s ‘I’ll work through anything’ mentality. On top of that, he’s a young man who clearly wants to spread his wings. Greez gets it, he really does, but sometimes Cal needs a reminder he isn’t immortal. No, it’s simpler than that. Sometimes, he needs reminders that he doesn’t need to be in pain constantly.

With much eye-rolling and amateur dramatics, Cal reaches for his boot. He pulls, and Greez watches him literally go several shades paler. A funny gasp emerges from him, and he grabs the couch cushions, knuckles bleaching white. Greez hears Cere take a breath, ready to lecture, and reaches over to whack her on the arm. The woman really needs to know when to push and when to shut up.

It’s slow and painful (literally for Cal, based on how much he’s sweating), but the boot comes off.

Greez can’t help himself. “That looks broken.”

Cal is silent as Cere scans the obvious problem. Greez grabs an icepack, ready to put on the injury the moment they have confirmation.

“Yes,” Cere says. “Broken. It’s a hairline fracture, so a bone knitter and a few days of rest will fix it right up.” She reaches into the medkit once more and pulls out said knitter. Definitely an essential purchase, one they’d made not long after meeting Cal.

Head shaking, Cal tries to pull away. “I don’t need to rest it, I can manage.”

Certain he knows why Cal thinks he can ‘manage’, Greez slaps the icepack down just hard enough to catch Cal, who hisses and levels a glare at him. “You are resting it. Consider the rest of us at your beck and call.”

Cal pauses, turning the thought around. “Everyone?”

Greez nods. “Merrin!” Cal bellows at the top of his lungs. “You’re at my beck and call! Grab me a drink, please!”

[ango0]

Through Your Ups And Through My Downs

{BSD boy x gn! S/o reader}

✕ when did the BDS boys realize you are the one for them

Including:- Dazai, Akutagawa, chuuya

Genre:- fluff

Warning:- blood, dead bodies, reader getting injured (chuuya’s part)

Author’s note:- I wanted to make this a fluff but I feel like it turned a little angsty but sweet, sorry but still gonna title this as fluff tho, also sorry for grammar mistake, this is not proofread

DAZAI:

-:When he found out that you loved him despite knowing his past:-

Since the beginning of the relationship Dazai has been a little overwhelmed to say the least. He was good at flirting and manipulating people. Yes, he could swipe anyone off their feet if he felt like it, but he never went into anything serious. So when he went into this relationship with you he tried his best to be a good boyfriend because he knew that you loved him more than you loved yourself.

One question still remains in his head tho, would you still love him if you knew about the kind of person he was in his past and the things he has done?

This question was answered when he found out that u knew about his past before you two started dating. He was very surprised, and thousands of questions started running through his head. ‘But..but how? How did you know? Why didn’t you tell him anything?’ But most importantly, ‘why are you still here? Why didn’t you run away?"

It was around 11 p.m., and you were on the dinner table with your head down on it, slowly drifting away in sleep as you waited for your lover to come home. He was awfully late today but u didn’t mind since, as you know he disappears sometimes like this. So u just waited for him to return.

Dazai slowly opened the front door of the apartment to see that the lights were still on, which meant you were still awake. He was opening his shoe as he heard your soft footsteps coming towards him "Welcome back love" you said while rubbing your sleepy eyes.

Dazai looked at you with a soft smile as he pulled you in a tight hug, his grip onto you a little tighter than usual which made you wrap your hand tighter as well. "Osamu? Is something wro-" "why.." his voice cut you off, making you pull away and look at his face "what..? You questioned while tilting your head "why didn’t you leave.." his words were confusing u and the sad and broken expression on his face made u even more confused and concerned. " Dazai what are u talking about?" you asked again. "Why didn't you distance yourself from me after knowing what a horrible person I was? Why did you stay?" he asked, gripping onto your shoulders, his bangs covering his eyes. Your concerned and confused expression turned into a soft and loving smile as you cupped his cheeks "Because I love u.."

Dazai’s gaze softened up as he touched your forehead with his own, cupping your cheeks as well "I love u too bella.."

Akutagawa:

:- When he saw the way you cried for him when he was laying in the hospital bed after being injured:-

Akutagawa's careless self gets him into a lot of trouble most of the time, sometimes even going to the edge of dying, not to mention how his lung disease makes it worse.

But he never cared. No matter how many injuries he gets he never cares about his health. Since childhood he was taught (by Dazai) that no matter what happens he always needs to prove that he’s not weak.

However it always affected you. You know that your lover works a dangerous job and his careless self makes his job even more dangerous so you are always concerned and worried about him, which he doesn't understand why, why do you care about him? Oh right, you are his lover that’s why. You love him that's why. Still he was always a little confused because he never had anyone to actually ‘love’ him.

It was one of those days where Akutagawa had to lay on the hospital bed with all the necessary equipment plugged in. He was given sleeping pills, so he was asleep. You were there too, sitting beside his bed on the chair. Waiting for him to wake up so u can give him the meds that he needs. You softly intertwined your fingers into his own, holding onto his tight like he’s going to disappear forever if you let go. Seeing him like this broke your heart but there’s nothing you can do..

You laid your head on the side of the bed, looking at your sleeping lover with small tears in your eyes "Why are u like this?" you mumbled softly, closing your eyes so the tears wouldn’t fall down. You shot your eyes open when you felt Akutagawa’s hand move a little, he was waking up from his sleep. You raised your head up from the mattress of the bed looking at him "Aku.." you called out which made him side-eye you, opening his mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come out of his throat. This broke your heart more, building more tears in your eyes as previous ones rolled down your cheeks, You tried to hold it in but every time you looked at his face your heart broke even more

Akutagawa watched you cry for him which made him feel this guilt. You are crying, because of him.. A small drop of tear unknowingly fell down his cheek as he started at your crying face ‘d..do..don’t c..cry.." he tried his best to speak through the oxygen mask, building up the energy to raise his hand to wipe your tears away , u gripped onto his hand and helped him cup your cheek, giving him a soft smile through the tears. His own lips curled into a small, weak smile as he kept his eyes on you with his hand on your cheeks "l..love..yo.you" he spoke again. The oxygen mask turned his words into soft muffles but you could hear it. His words made you giggle through your sobs "I love you too.."

Chuuya:

:- when he heard how you still ran up to him and hugged him despite him using corruption and not caring that he would hurt you:-

Chuuya loves you to death, he is always protective and caring towards you, taking care of you like you are made of the thinnest glass known to mankind. So hurting you was something that never came into his mind even tho he’s scared that he might. But Why? Why would he hurt you? He loves u and u love him, he can never ever hurt his sweet doll..well not on purpose, that is.

Piles of dead bodies lay on the ground, there were small and big blood pools everywhere, trees around the area were broken down and there were big holes in the ground everywhere. Between all of this stood a man who was menacingly laughing and throwing balls of energy. The situation was getting worse and worse. It was just a simple mission for Chuuya. Well, that’s what he thought, but now here he was, using corruption, destroying everything and everyone around him, killing anyone he sees and not caring that he is hurting himself while doing it.

You watched from afar, seeing how your boyfriend was destroying everything while destroying himself in the process. Feeling helpless that you are not able to do anything about this, You wanted to go to him and try to get him back to his senses but you know that’s no use. Chuuya has warned you over and over again how you should stay away from him when he’s using corruption and that he won’t listen to you so now the only thing you can do is wait for Dazai to come and stop him

However Dazai however was taking an awful amount of time to get there. It’s been around 15 minutes since this started and Chuuya wasn’t stopping at all. But suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and fell to his knees. You softly walked near him to see if he came to his senses. But no, he was still laughing like a madman but coughing while doing it. U tilted your body to the side trying to get a view in front of him to see what’s going on..only to see him coughing up blood while laughing "c-chuuya.." u softly say with ur eyes widened. He was coughing up a sick amount of blood.

U slowly start to walk, No, run towards him "OH MY GOODNESS CHUUYA!" you yelled while running towards him and hugging him from behind. He stopped for a moment, not speaking, not moving or even coughing anymore, total silence.

Suddenly you felt a hand grab your side,making you look at it to only see your boyfriend grabbing your side and before you knew it u were thrown towards a pile of rocks by him. Everything suddenly went Dark…

You open your eyes to a white ceiling above you "Ggghh..huh.." You groaned a little looking around the room. It seems like you were in the hospital, but..why.. You rose your head a little only to see your boyfriend on the sofa next to your bed, he had bandages around his forehead and arm "chuuya.." you called out to him, making him look at u before running towards u and pulling u into a tight hug

"Oh my lord..sweetheart are u ok! Are you hurt? Does anything hurt? Do you feel anything, would you like me to call the doctor?" He started throwing questions after questions at you, not giving you a proper chance to talk"chuuya..I alright just aggh!" u felt a sharp pain in ur bandaged head "god what happened..?" you asked your boyfriend who gave you a look that was filled with guilt and sadness "I..I throwed u towards a pile of rock and u..passed away" he gripped around you tighter "I am..sorry darling." he whispered into your ear while resting his

head on your shoulder. "It’s ok chuu-chuu" u said with a light giggle, kissing the side of his cheek "I am alright but..u were coughing out blood, are u alright?" "Mhmm," he hummed in response

After that there silence filled the room as both of you held each other rightly. Tho not long after the silence was broken by Chuuya's voice "I love u.." his words made u smile "I love u as well.."

Note 2: thank u for reading, love u all ba-bye

-seyoji

[bdlatestjobs]

Exploring the World of Government Job Circulars: Your Gateway to Secure Employment

Introduction In today's competitive job market, securing a government job has become a dream for many individuals. Government jobs offer stability, attractive benefits, and a sense of security that private sector jobs often lack. One of the primary ways government job vacancies are announced is through job circulars. In this article, we will delve into the world of government job circulars, understanding their significance, how they work, and the benefits they offer.

Understanding Government Job Circulars Government job circulars are official documents released by government agencies to announce job vacancies within their departments or organizations. These circulars provide detailed information about the available positions, eligibility criteria, application procedures, and deadlines.

Importance of Government Job Circulars Government job circulars play a crucial role in ensuring transparency and equal opportunity in the recruitment process. They provide a level playing field for all candidates by clearly outlining the requirements and qualifications necessary for the job.

How Government Job Circulars Work Government job circulars are published in various print and online mediums, including newspapers, official government websites, and job portals. These circulars are usually categorized based on job roles, educational qualifications, and experience levels.

Advantages of Applying Through Circulars Applying for government jobs through circulars offers several advantages. These include job security, competitive salaries, retirement benefits, and opportunities for career growth.

Navigating the Circular: Key Components Government job circulars typically include essential information such as job title, number of vacancies, application deadline, required qualifications, age limits, pay scale, job responsibilities, and contact details for inquiries.

Eligibility Criteria: Decoding the Requirements Understanding the eligibility criteria outlined in the circular is crucial. This includes educational qualifications, experience, age limits, and specific skills required for the job.

Application Process Demystified The application process for government jobs often involves submitting an online or offline application form along with relevant documents such as certificates, transcripts, and identification proofs.

The Selection Procedure: What to Expect Government job selections usually consist of written exams, interviews, and sometimes physical tests. Each stage is designed to assess different aspects of a candidate's suitability for the position.

Preparation Strategies for Government Job Exams Preparing for government job exams requires a structured study plan. Candidates should focus on the syllabus, practice previous years' question papers, and stay updated with current affairs.

Interview Tips for Government Job Aspirants Government job interviews assess both technical knowledge and personal traits. Candidates should dress appropriately, research the organization, and practice answering common interview questions.

Challenges Faced During the Application Process The government job application process can be competitive and lengthy. Candidates may face challenges such as intense competition, changing exam patterns, and delays in result announcements.

Government Job vs. Private Sector Job: Making the Right Choice Choosing between a government job and a private sector job depends on individual preferences. While government jobs offer stability, private sector jobs may provide higher salaries and faster career progression.

Government Job Circulars in the Digital Age With technological advancements, government job circulars are now accessible online. This has made the application process more convenient and eco-friendly.

Impact of Government Job Circulars on Society Government job circulars have a significant impact on society by providing equal employment opportunities, reducing unemployment rates, and contributing to economic stability.

Conclusion Government job circulars serve as a vital bridge between job seekers and employment opportunities in the public sector. These transparent and well-structured documents ensure that the selection process is fair and merit-based, promoting a competent and dedicated workforce in government agencies. Whether you're a fresh graduate or an experienced professional, exploring government job circulars can open doors to a rewarding career path.

FAQs

Are government job circulars only applicable to specific fields? Government job circulars span various fields and sectors, catering to a diverse range of qualifications and skills.

Can I apply for multiple positions through different circulars simultaneously? Yes, you can apply for multiple positions as long as you meet the eligibility criteria for each.

What is the significance of the application deadline in circulars? The application deadline is crucial, as applications received after the deadline are usually not considered.

How can I stay updated with upcoming government job circulars? You can regularly check official government websites, newspapers, and job portals for the latest circulars.

Are government job exams more challenging than other competitive exams? Government job exams are designed to assess specific skills and knowledge related to the job role, making them unique in their own right. government job circular

[necroromantics]

So it’s not Toby I headcanon with BP, it’s Jeff. And it’s kinda the reason why I feel hesitant to write him. I’ve been reading up on stuff recently about BP and how to write characters with the condition, but I was wondering if you had any tips? I don’t want to contribute to any misinformation.

ALL ABOUT BIPOLAR DISORDER + WRITING IT

Warning. This is a very very very long post. LMAO

Ok so when it comes to writing any character, you need to understand that they aren't a real person, they're a storytelling device. They don't really work on the same logic systems of reality like we do in the real world. So when you're writing a character with things like mental health issues, it's important to view it as "How does this contribute to my story" or "How does this fit into the unique logistics of my stories reality"

But in order to bend (not break) the rules when it comes to portraying mental health issues, you need to first know the rules, and then work to weaving that framework of the real world into your fictional world/character.

For example, my OC Tobin has bipolar disorder, but it doesn't really come up in the Creepedverse story cuz it just doesn't fit in as a storytelling device. In reality, throughout the story, Tobin would have at least an episode or two over the course of the year the plot takes place. An important thing to consider is how a characters mental health issues contribute to the story you wanna tell. And if it doesn't, its ok for it to just be a lil side thing you know about.

Now for actual information on Bipolar Disorder (which is shortened to BD, NOT BPD. BPD is a completely separate disorder called "borderline personality disorder", they are very different though people constantly mix them up due to terminology similarities)

There are two main types of bipolar disorder that someone may be diagnosed with, (theres also cyclothymia which is like diet bipolar with hypomania/mild depression, and schizoaffective bipolar which is like schizophrenia and bipolar mixed, but Im not getting into those today). When writing a character with BD, its very important to note how the disorder actually effects them. Remember, a disorder is something that causes a person significant dysfunction and impairment in their day to day life. It negatively impacts them in many ways such as personal distress, their relationships, job, finances, etc.

Bipolar Type 1: The requirement for being diagnosed with type 1 is the presence of an episode of extremely high energy/moods that lasts more than a week, OR ends up being so severe the person gets hospitalized. This lengthy period of high moods is called a manic episode, which Ill get into later. You only need to have experienced one manic episode to qualify for a bipolar diagnosis. Thats why you can only experience mania if you are bipolar, cuz the moment you're manic, you fit the bill for bipolar type 1. Make sense? Most, but not all, people with type 1 also experience periods of extremely low energy/moods called a depressive episode. These lows are not required for a diagnosis, but they are very prevalent. They may last weeks to months. The main thing about type 1 bipolar is the manic episodes they experience that cause them significant distress in life.

Bipolar Type 2: Type 2 is diagnosed if someone experiences a hypomanic episode that lasts more than 4 days, AND a depressive episode (not at the same time, but within the same year). Hypomania is a mild form of typical mania. If someone experiences extreme mania, they will be diagnosed with type 1, never type 2. In type 2, its the depressive episodes that cause a person the most distress, while in type 1 its the mania. Depressive episodes are typically more severe and last longer in this type, and the hypomanic episodes are typically mild and short-lived enough for a person to not even notice theres a problem there. Both hypomanic and depressive episodes are required for this diagnosis.

Now you know the two different common presentations of bipolar, but you need to understand exactly what a bipolar episode looks like. The WORST thing you can do is to misinterpret them simply as mood swings. In reality, its more like a merry-go-round where youll drop and stay down for awhile, or youll go up and stay up for awhile, or youll just relax in the middle without any ups/downs for a bit.

Manic Episodes: Manic episodes are only prevalent in type 1 bipolar. A common misconception is that you can experience mania without bipolar disorder, but that isnt true. Mania is the hallmark feature of BD, so it isnt associated or experienced with any other disorder. It isnt a symptom, its a defining feature. But what are the symptoms of a manic episode? Remember that mania is very severe, and causes significant impairment in someones life, often the person ends up hospitalized. The common symptoms are a lack of sleep (~0-2 hours), very high moods/euphoria, racing thoughts, talking very fast and often not making sense to others, and taking dangerous risks/being impulsive/irresponsible without any sense of judgement or forethought. Mania presents differently in a lot of people, but generally its like very very high energy coursing through your mind and body to the point you feel like youre zooming or gonna explode, jittery. You might laugh a bunch at nothing, act very erratic, irritable, say shocking or distasteful things cuz you cant slow down enough to even think about what youre saying. You might ruin relationships, scare people, quit your job/get fired, get into trouble with the law, drain your bank account. Psychosis is also something people may experience with mania, such as delusions (grandeur ones commonly) and hallucinations. You might feel like you're completely untouchable, overly confident, like youre the king of the world. Its like everything is moving in hyperspeed, your body, your thoughts, your mouth, and its pretty overwhelming. Very commonly, a person in a manic episode doesn't realize they're in a manic episode. They might question it, but they brush it off as "its fine, I feel good" or "this is just how I am" or "Im not manic Im just in a good mood"

Hypomanic Episodes: Hypomania is like mania in the sense that the person experiences high energy/moods. The main difference is that hypomania is mild, and not severe enough to require hospitalization or immediate psychiatric treatment. Type 1 may experience hypomanic episodes as well as manic episodes, but this is not required for that diagnosis. In type 2, hypomanic episodes are required. In a hypomanic episode, someone might suddenly be very happy and social, they may get very productive in life, optimistic, and a bit eccentric. Due to the high energy, you don't feel as if you need as much sleep to function (~3-4 hours), and you might begin to talk a lot, overshare, ramble, go on nonsensical tangents. You might get more irritable and antsy. Risky and irresponsible behaviour is common too, such as impulsive decisions without regard for consequence, carelessly spending money, high sex drive/unsafe sex, etc. Cuz hypomania isnt as extreme as typical mania, most people dont even realize when they are hypomanic, its very often brushed off by being in a good, productive mood, or that a person is simply extroverted, or energetic. Bipolar people tend to have unhealthy relationships with both manic and/or hypomanic episodes, almost glamorizing the high moods they experience, especially during depressive episodes.

Depressive Episodes: Depressive episodes are a period of extremely low energy/moods. They typically last longer than mania, ranging from weeks to months. Sometimes a short period of depressive symptoms occurs right after a manic episode called a "crash", but this doesn't necessarily mean its a depressive episode. Bipolar depression is typically regarded as a bit different from typical depression, due to the nature of the disorder. The common symptoms are hopelessness, oversleeping, fatigue/tiredness, slow thinking, lack of concentration, irritability, feeling worthless/bleak, and a loss of passion/interest in things. Its like the other side of the same spectrum as mania, with similar changes such as appetite, sleep patterns, energy levels, irritability, etc, just in different ways. Depressive episodes can cause someone to socially isolate, or experience suicidal thoughts. You might feel more emotionally sensitive, or like nothing will ever get better. Its like suddenly a filter of hopelessness, negativity, and sadness gets put over your brain and eyes, and the world loses its colour, and everything sucks so bad all you wanna do is lay in bed and rot. It feels physically heavy, like youre dragging weights. When manic you might feel very fast and light, when depressive you might feel very slow and heavy.

Mixed Episodes: A lesser known episode that may be experienced is a mixed episode. Any type can experience this type of episode, but it is not required or considered for any diagnosis. Its sort of like something that happens instead of something thats a hallmark feature of bipolar. In a mixed episode, someone will experience both symptoms of depression and mania at the same time, or in rapid succession/back and forth in short bursts. This is typically regarded as the most distressing and severe episode to have because of the combination of both episodes. You might feel like your thoughts are racing, or like youre going crazy, but at the same time youre so tired you cant get out of bed. You might feel very very energized, but have thoughts that youre hopeless and worthless. You might laugh, and then start crying, like youre being shot up into space and then thrown into the bottom of the ocean. You might feel very jittery, but a pain in your chest, or an exhaustion you cant shake. You might also experience a burst of joy, laughter, very high energy where youre talking super fast and speaking nonsense and acting erratically, and then immediately you start to feel very sad and slowed down, like everything hurts, and is meaningless. Mixed episodes are very painful to deal with, because youre being constantly thrown around, and you cant get a grip. Rates of suicide are higher during these periods. Not everyone with bipolar may experience mixed episodes, and it will present differently for everyone. It may last a couple days to even weeks.

So theres a rundown for the different episodes. To write a bipolar character, think about the type of bipolar they have/how it presents, and then think about how their episodes may impact them contextually. If a character is manic at a certain point in your story, what actions may they take, or thoughts, or interactions, that will show this? Can the people around them tell when theyre in an episode? What gives it away? What behaviour cues show their episodes? For me personally, my fiancee can always tell when Im in an episode, cuz of my eyes/behaviour. She says my eyes get more wide and sorta erratic looking when Im manic and I move around very quickly like Im restless, and when Im depressive, my eyes get more heavy/tired looking and I move very slowly and less expressive. Remember that someones episodes, especially mania, will have an impact on the people/world around them, not just internally, it causes issues externally as well. Someone might cause a lot of destruction or drama or get into fights when theyre manic and impulsive, they might do crazy or ambitious shit just to drop it, they might socially isolate and sleep all day when depressed, or not show up to work or school.

Another thing to consider is the persons cycle. This is how many episodes a person experiences in a year. If they have proper treatment, they may experience ~0-2 episodes a year, if not, they may experience ~1+ a year, typically in the 2-4 range. This means that someone who is treated with the proper medication may not experience any episodes at all, or they might experience milder, shorter lived episodes a couple times a year. Someone who isnt treated is very susceptible to experiencing more extreme and lengthy episodes, and more often in a year.

Rapid Cycling is when someone with bipolar experiences one episode after another. So they might be manic for a week or so, and then immediately experience a depressive episode right after for like a month, and then back to being manic. Typically, someone with bipolar will experience plenty of time in a year in between their episodes without any significant manic/depressive symptoms, like periods of stability.

Triggers for a bipolar episode are usually lack of sleep, stress, alcohol/drug use, and even changes of seasons or life events can trigger a high/low in someone. Everyone has their own unique triggers that is important to recognize when it comes to treatment and preventing episodes. Think about the triggers your character might have, and what they might be exposed to in your story that could cause this. Episodes may come on as a gradual up/down climb, or very suddenly.

Thats really all I got for information on bipolar. The biggest issue I see is just the way people write bipolar episodes as mood swings. It's not being happy and then suddenly really angry or sad, its not changing your mind really quick, or suddenly switching up. Its moreso long periods of high/low energy. Thats why I say "episodes" instead of "mood swings", cuz its not a mood swing at all, its very literally just random periods where you'll experience an episode of mania or depression. The classic "mood swings"/switching up thing is more closely related to borderline personality disorder which is VERY different from bipolar, despite them being mixed up so often.

This was very long but feel free to send in more asks if you need any specifics. I just tried to cover all bases cuz its good to know what youre working with before you work with it.

[cynicalrosebud]

Handle It (8): Soft Moments

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Summary: A collection of soft drabbles I’ve written about our fave K9 team. These are out of order in the timeline, I just can’t find spots for these in the main storyline. Enjoy! ❤️

Warnings: Mentions of phantom pains and vets

Notes: Only Alex gets to call our girl Babydoll, everyone else calls her BD, or another nickname as stated.

Paperwork

You stretched out on the worn leather sofa in Alex’s office, your ears twitching at the soft creak of the chair as he shifted, immersed in paperwork. The rustling of documents filled the room, a comforting white noise that allowed you to simply observe him in his element.

From where you lounged, your gaze wandered over to him, taking in each feature of his face in the warm glow of the desk lamp. His brow was furrowed in that familiar expression of focus, the soft shadows casting along the sharp line of his jaw and the bridge of his nose. You’d seen him in the heat of battle, covered in dirt and sweat, yet here, there was something different—quieter, more peaceful.

His hands moved with practiced ease, large and steady as they flipped through reports, occasionally jotting down notes. You had seen those hands handle weapons with deadly precision, but now they were relaxed, the pen barely a weight in his fingers. The veins along his forearms stood out, visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, a small reminder of the strength that always lay just beneath the surface.

Your tail flicked absently as your eyes lingered on the tousled strands of his hair, slightly out of place after a long day. It gave him an almost unintentional softness, something you rarely saw when he was on the job. His lips, usually set in a focused line, held the faintest hint of a smile, as though he was thinking of something that amused him just beneath the surface.

You watched the way his shoulders moved, the quiet strength in the way he held himself. Alex had a presence that filled the room without even trying, a steady, grounded force that made you feel safe just being near him. There was something calming about it, something that made your muscles relax as you lay there, content to simply observe.

He must have sensed your gaze because, without looking up, he spoke, his tone light but curious. “You comfortable over there?”

You made a soft sound, just a breath, enough to catch his attention but not enough to break the quiet. He glanced over at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when he saw you watching him, your head resting on the cushion, eyes half-lidded but attentive.

His expression softened, a mix of fondness and amusement in his eyes. “Didn’t think paperwork was that interesting.”

You huffed softly, your ears flicking in response. He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before turning his attention back to his reports, his presence a steady hum in the quiet room.

You let your gaze linger a little longer, memorizing the way the soft light framed his face, the quiet ease with which he worked. Even without words, the bond between you was clear, a mutual understanding that needed no explanation.

And in this moment, surrounded by the familiar scent of paper, ink, and Alex’s quiet presence, you found yourself more at peace than you had been in a long time.

Phantoms

The day was warm, the sun casting a golden light over the small town as you and Alex wandered down the cobblestone streets. It was a rare day off, one of those quiet, stolen moments away from the base and the usual chaos of missions. The two of you had decided to grab lunch at a local café, your steps relaxed as the bustle of the town moved around you in an unhurried rhythm.

Alex walked beside you, his usual steady gait just a bit off today, though it wasn’t noticeable to anyone else. But you could feel the slight tension in him, his shoulders just a little tighter than usual, his pace slowing.

You glanced up at him, your ears flicking as you sensed something off. He gave you a small, reassuring smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His hand moved unconsciously to his prosthetic leg, a brief touch, as if he were testing its presence.

That was when you understood.

Phantom pains.

You had seen it before, though Alex was careful not to draw attention to it. The discomfort that came and went without warning, the pain that wasn’t there but felt so real it stopped him in his tracks. He never liked to make a fuss about it, always brushing it off with a joke or a change of subject.

But today, you wouldn’t let him suffer through it alone.

Without hesitation, you gently nudged his arm, drawing his attention. His gaze met yours, a mix of gratitude and resignation in his eyes. You could tell he didn’t want to make it a big deal, but you were determined to help.

You scanned the area quickly, spotting a secluded bench just off the main street, tucked away near a quiet row of trees. With a soft nudge, you guided him toward it, staying close at his side in case he needed more support.

Once you reached the bench, Alex sat down with a heavy sigh, resting his hands on his thighs. He rubbed his leg absentmindedly, his jaw tight as he tried to work through the pain.

You moved in front of him, sitting down by his feet, your head resting gently against his knee. It was a quiet offer of support, your presence grounding him in the moment. Without needing words, you shifted into your role, providing the same kind of steady comfort you had so many times before.

Alex exhaled slowly, his hand moving to rest on your head. He didn’t say anything, but the way his fingers stroked gently through your fur spoke volumes. You could feel him relax, the tension in his shoulders easing as he focused on your presence, his breathing slowing to a more even rhythm.

It was a quiet moment, just the two of you sitting together in the small, shaded corner of town. The sounds of people passing by and the distant hum of the café faded into the background, leaving only the soft rustle of leaves and the warmth of the sun on your backs.

Eventually, Alex spoke, his voice low and quiet. “Thanks, babydoll.”

You tilted your head slightly, nuzzling into his touch, letting him know you were there. You didn’t need to say anything—he already knew. This was what you did for each other. In moments like these, when the world slowed down and the pain became too much, you were his anchor, just as he had always been yours.

After a few more minutes, Alex’s breathing steadied, the phantom pain subsiding. He gave you a soft pat, his smile returning, this time reaching his eyes. “Alright,” he said, his tone lighter. “Ready to get back out there?”

You stood up, tail flicking once in response, already moving to his side as he rose from the bench. Together, you made your way back toward the café, your pace matched once again, your quiet bond stronger than ever.

Vet

The base vet's office was as sterile and uninviting as you remembered—bright, white walls, the faint smell of disinfectant, and that unsettling quiet that always made your ears twitch. You sat on the exam table, tail flicking lazily as you eyed the door warily, waiting for the inevitable.

Alex stood next to you, leaning against the wall with a grin that was far too amused for the situation at hand. “You’ve faced worse, Y/n. It’s just a checkup,” he teased, crossing his arms as he watched you with that signature smirk.

You shot him a look, your ears pinned back slightly in irritation. Facing enemy fire? No problem. But this? This was a different kind of ordeal. You could already hear the soft, hurried footsteps of the vet in the hall, and your instincts were screaming at you to leave, though Alex’s calm presence kept you in place.

The door creaked open, and Dr. Moore stepped in, clipboard in hand and a pleasant smile on his face. “BD,” he greeted warmly, his tone a little too cheerful for your liking. “It’s that time again—just a quick checkup and your vaccinations. Shouldn’t take long.”

You gave a low huff in response, shifting slightly on the table as he approached, already sensing the needle that was surely coming.

Dr. Moore, seemingly used to this, ignored your grumpy attitude and began his exam. He checked your ears, your paws, your teeth—all while you sat there, begrudgingly letting him poke and prod. Alex, of course, had the audacity to chuckle from his spot by the door.

“You’re being very brave,” Alex teased, voice full of amusement. “I’m proud of you.”

You shot him another look, narrowing your eyes, but before you could respond, Dr. Moore spoke up. “All right, sweetheart, now for the shots. Just hold still—this won’t take long.”

You stiffened, instinctively drawing back just a bit, your claws flexing slightly as you felt the cold alcohol swab against your upper arm. The sight of the needle didn’t scare you, not exactly, but it didn’t mean you had to like it.

As Dr. Moore approached with the syringe, you let out a low, almost comical growl—more a warning than anything else. Alex, trying to keep a straight face, leaned over and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” he coaxed, clearly holding back a laugh. “You’ll be fine.”

You grumbled in response, but stayed still as the vet administered the shot, the pinch of the needle brief but annoying. The second shot followed quickly, and before you knew it, it was over.

Dr. Moore gave you a reassuring pat. “See? All done. You were great.”

You huffed again, jumping down from the table with a slight shake of your fur, ready to leave this place behind. Alex was still grinning, though, clearly enjoying the entire ordeal far more than he should have.

As the vet packed up, Alex leaned down to you with an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Want me to get you a lollipop? You’ve earned it.”

You glared up at him, tail flicking with mock irritation, but the small, amused twinkle in your eyes gave you away. He reached out, ruffling your fur affectionately.

“Alright, alright,” he said, still chuckling. “Let’s get out of here before you scare off any more doctors.”

With one final glance at the vet, you followed Alex out of the office, eager to leave the checkup behind. You could handle plenty on the battlefield, but a trip to the vet? That was something else entirely.

[agatha-agere-all-along]

Could you do little and fem reader with mama Agatha? Where reader had a bad overstimulating and anxiety inducing day and heads home to be with Agatha but stubbornly refuses to let herself drop and Agatha has to slowly coax herself in? And could reader have a little age of 2-4? Sorry for being so specific 😭. Thanks for consideration!

No worries! Only thing I changed is reader is non-gender specific! But you're free to imagine it as fem! ^^

ALSO SORRY I TOTALLY DIDN'T SEE THIS 😭

Mamagatha + 2/4 reader! - Overstimulated.

(warnings! Mentions of doctors and meds. Anxiety, and overstimulation!)

You would consider yourself an anxious person. You fidgeted, a lot. Or stimming, as your doctor called it. They'd prescribed you medication to help with it, but you certainly didn't notice a difference.

When Agatha entered your life, however. It's like, a lot of that crushing weight suddenly didn't exist. And most days, you felt less anxious and more... you.

Today was, so, not one of those days.

See, you worked in a very people demanding job. Not one you wanted but, you needed money. Bright lights lit up the store, the slushie machine you had to clean today was all yucky and sticky, you got yelled at. Then, you also had to cram in an online class, trying your best to not let your poor grades slip further. Which, the stress made your anxiety spike for the test tomorrow.

Speaking of slipping, you just- wouldn't. When you got home, you barely even acknowledged Agatha greeting you. You really, really, really just wanted to lay down with your lights off and cry, preferably? On your own.

Reaching the basement, though, where your temporary room was set up—A mist of purple magic locked the door, a hum came from behind you. "So, take it I'm invisible?" She joked, before noticing you gave a quiet groan. Her smiled remained but her eyes frowned. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Bd..wrk..dy.." You mumbled something under your breathe, her face softens. "Does my baby need Mama today?" Her words, while tempting. You shook your head and push past her to instead go to the kitchen. "Not a baby..." murmured yourself.

"Mmmhm, sure you aren't." Her mouth turned into a slight grin, she had a feeling you wouldn't go five minutes without dropping. But if it took some coaxing from the witch, then she'd work her magic. (Not... literally-)

"Want me to atleast get ya a drink?" She offered as she strode into the kitchen with you, reaching for the fridge as you lazily climb onto a stool, face smashed against the counter top.

"Nghh.." You whined, as a cup us placed before you, you look up. "...not a baby." You repeat, as, she'd given you a sippy cup.

"Oh, I know... just, figured ya want that. You know, big kids are using those all the time these days, it's all the rage really." She was spewing horsecrap and you knew it. But you were thirsty and there was juice in front of you, so despite your grumbling, you drank it.

Oh, wow, that made you feel small.

"You a baby yet? Because Mama just put your blanket in the dryer before you got home, yeah?" Ohhh, warm blanky....

She brushed hair out of your face, and you whimper and nuzzle your head into her shirt. "You like that?" She asked, you didn't wanna admit it. But, yeah... you needed to be small, especially after today, you were feeling anxious and upset.

"Can Mama pick you up?" You actually had to think about it, not a hundred percent sure her hair would be okay, sebseoy wise, today. But after a second, you nodded, letting Mama scoop you up.

She coos, "There's my baby!"

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

birthday bomb bash!

a birthday gift for @hobiebrownismygod 💝 💗💗

Pairing: Maitreyi Jokhar (spidersona [not mine]) x Hobie Brown (romantic), Maitreyi Jokhar x Nikita Raina (spidersona [mine]) and the rest of the spider-gang (Pavitr + Gayatri, 1610!Miles, 42!Miles, Gwen, Margo) (platonic)

Type: Oneshot - Fluff

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: translated Telugu, one cuss, less dialogue more description, mentions of eating & food, if you’re allergic to birthdays and mild chaos then this is not for you, and I didn’t even attempt Hobie’s accent this time lol

A/N: HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY ONCE AGAIN POOKS 😁 also let’s assume that Nikita and Maitreyi can understand each other when they talk in their own languages though Niki speaks Hindi and Maitreyi speaks Telugu <3

��Pavitr, stop giggling! You are a plant. Plants do not giggle.”

An unaware onlooker might have observed the scene — Nikita and Gwen struggling with neon banners and brightly-coloured streamers, Hobie trying his best to lay the table without dropping the cutlery piled up in his arms, Gayatri cursing loudly in the kitchen every time she spilled hot oil or got the recipe wrong, Miles using some sugary edible spray-paint to graffiti the cheesecake while the other Miles watched critically, and Pavitr posing as a plant with leaves in his hair and modelling Margo’s holographic wreath-like projections while she tapped away at her computer — and chalked it up to a regular day in a mental asylum.

But today was not a regular day, far from it. And they all didn’t belong in a mental asylum. Probably.

How do you tell someone you appreciate them for looking out for the entire group time after time? And yeah, she had done that, faithfully and patiently.

From small things like tucking someone into bed and helping them when they’re sick to larger instances like fighting to protect them and training with them to improve their skills so that they didn’t fall victim to a persistant villain.

Maitreyi Jokhar was no ordinary human being - though in a way, none of them were - and so she deserved a completely extraordinary birthday surprise.

The only problem? None of them knew how to plan a surprise birthday party.

Pavitr had called to wish her and almost spilled everything right then and there, only stopped by Gayatri clapping a hand over his mouth. Hobie had insisted on making his girlfriend’s favourite foods himself before realizing he had no idea how to cook Indian food (though Gayatri’s totally unintentional trash-talking might have played a role in that). Gwen tripped over the same damn low-hanging banner three times in a row somehow, and both Miles and Miles got into an argument about who should decorate the cake (Miles won).

Nikita had put herself in charge of wrapping the presents after a small mishap — turns out, none of them could be trusted with a sheet of wrapping paper and a roll of tape, because when she got back into the room she saw Pavitr and Hobie sheepishly standing next to 4 suspiciously people-shaped wrapped ‘statues’.

Gayatri bellowed another loud Hindi curse and Pavitr audibly gasped while Nikita covered her eyes. “What does that mea-” Hobie eagerly started, but Nikita cut him off with a glare. “Hobie, focus. If you break my plates I’ll break your knees.”

He turned his attention back to arranging the plates and spoons with a little bit of added caution.

Margo let out a loud whoop of satisfaction as she finally worked out the bugs in her code. She hit a button on her keyboard and strings of lights flickered around Pavitr, the little shining orbs slowly changing into little versions of them. And in the centre, mini-hologram-Maitreyi wore a neon purple crown and a bright yellow banner slung across her torso that read ‘BD@Y B!TCH’ in big block letters.

Nikita pinched the bridge of her nose to hold back a comment about the… interesting title. “Pavi! Ao aur meri madad karo please.” (Come and help me)

Since his amateur modelling job was done, he walked over and sat down cross-legged on the ground next to Niki. They both surveyed the gifts - a customisation chip that could be inserted into her wristwatch from Margo, who insisted that Maitreyi’s watch needed to look ‘classy’ and not boring, a new pair of gloves from Gwen, a set of knives varying in size from Gayatri and Pavitr, and a customised (spray-painted) suit from both Miles’.

Nikita and Hobie had schemed together for well over a month to figure out what to get Maitreyi. Of course, since they had basically inducted themselves into her found family - Hobie as her boyfriend and Nikita as somewhere in between her sister and the family pet - they wanted to make sure she would absolutely love their gifts.

So Nikita had decided on a more sentimental gift. She worked for a whole month, filling the biggest, thickest scrapbook she could find with photos of all the spider-teens (and more than just a few embarrassing texts Maitreyi had sent her in the first stages of her massive Hobie-crush) and little colourful annotations - poems, notes, references, and other random stuff.

On every photo of her, Maitreyi and Pavitr, she signed the words ‘the 3 idiots’ in the bottom corner - a reference to the movie she had convinced both of them to watch. There were more than half the pages left blank, ready to be filled in with more memories. She wrapped it up in purple wrapping paper and tied a (slightly messy) green ribbon into a bow to secure it.

Hobie had gone all out and bought Maitreyi all the clothes that she so much as looked at when they were walking along together, both in his universe and hers (and Nikita’s, on the times when she was third-wheeling with them).

“Hobie? Niki… Pavi? Where is everybody?”

Everyone’s eyes snapped towards voice that called out from behind the closed front door.

Fuck, Nikita thought, frantically glancing everywhere. Everything had been done properly — the banners were finally in place, the table had been laid with the food Gayatri had made, and the gifts had been wrapped, but they hadn’t thought far enough ahead to get to the actual reveal yet.

Everyone dived behind various objects in unison as a key turned in the lock and clicked open.

“Pavitr, ow,” Nikita hissed as he promptly sat on her toes. She moved slowly, using her stealth to sneak up on her best friend before leaping and covering her eyes from behind.

“Surprise! Happy birthd- MAITREYI! IT’S JUST ME!”

Maitreyi had spun around as she felt Niki’s hands on her eyes, grabbing her and almost swinging her into a wall before she recognised her.

“Niki? What-”

“Oh, that’s our cue,” came Hobie’s voice from behind a large potted plant. He and the others all leaped out and yelled, “Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday, Maitreyi.” Nikita lunged forward and crushed her in a hug, drawing back to kiss her cheek affectionately. “We organised a whole surprise party for you! And got pani puri!”

“‘Ey, quit hogging her,” Hobie grinned, coming up to both of them. “Happy birthday, dove.”

“You know she loves me more than you, right?”

“Bollocks.” (for those of you who’ve never heard this word before, it’s another word for bullshit)

“But she does! Right, Maitreyi?”

They both turned expectantly to her, and she raised her eyebrows. “Nope, not getting involved in this one. Hi, Hobie.”

The lovestruck tone of her last two words made him shoot a smug smirk at Nikita as he stepped forward and enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug, planting a kiss on her forehead before making a show of having to bend down — so very much, since she was so very short — to kiss her lips.

“Worth a shot,” Nikita chuckled, pushing Maitreyi toward the table. “Look! Pani puri! And pav bhaji!”

Maitreyi’s eyes widened at the crisp mini-puris, the large containers of tamarind chutney and jaljeera pani, the neatly laid-out pav bhaji, and the large glass bottles of goli soda.

“We’re all going to have horrible stomachaches by the end of this but it’ll be so worth it.”

She turned and gave Nikita a large hug, affectionately ruffling her hair, which looked a little funny since she had to reach up a quite a bit to get to Niki’s head. “Thank you so much for all of this, I love everything and I love you for putting this all together.”

Nikita grinned at her. “Of course. And I love you too.”

“Anything for you, darlin’,” She added in an exaggeratedly suave tone, giving her a badly-executed wink.

“Stop trying to platonically rizz up your best friend in front of her boyfriend and come eat,” Pavitr interrupted, standing beside the pani puri and impatiently raising his eyebrows at all three of them. “I’m hungry. Being a plant model - which I absolutely crushed, by the way - isn’t easy, you know!”

“10 bucks that Gwen or Hobie are going to lose their shit when they try the food and realise how spicy it’ll be,” Margo murmured to Miles, who smirked slightly. “Deal. Which one?”

“Well, how about both?”

Nikita and Maitreyi shared a look and both burst into giggles.

“Meeru food order chesaaraa?” (Did you order the food?)

“Nahin. Gayatri ki sab banaiya.” (No, Gayatri made all of it)

“Appadu chaalaa kaarangaa untundi!” (Then it’ll be very spicy)

“Haan. Jab ve khaayenge to aashcharyachakit ho jaayenge!” (Yeah, they’ll be very surprised/get a nasty shock when they eat)

“Manam chaalaa cheddavaallam, kaadaa?” (We’re pretty evil, aren’t we?)

They both cackled deviously, and Nikita threw an arm around Maitreyi.

“Chalo, let’s get this party started!”

@l0starl @therealloopylupin2099

[imagines-ahs]

Chapter Forty-Nine: Sangria.

Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.

Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes​ @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie​ (message me to be added if interested!)

At night, Wilhemina caught herself missing the warmth of another body next to her. Floratta Blue lingered in the air only slightly, and Venable wished she could smell more of it. Fear clouded her senses before sleep could, trying to trick her, trying to scare her. Wilhemina closed her eyes and thought about Billie; about the kiss they shared just before she entered her car and drove home that evening. Nothing would change in the morning. Nothing would change in the week. Right?

And so Monday morning arrived, and with it came a very self conscious Wilhemina, whom took way more than usual to get ready for the day. Pants, sweaters, skirts…? Have I ever worn a skirt to work? Venable didn’t think so, but when choosing an outfit the purple, mid skirt was the only thing that made her comfortable enough. So the skirt it was, with a purple sweater up and tucked on the waist and purple boots to finish the look. After placing a small kiss on Purpura’s head, Wilhemina followed to Billie Dean Howard & Co., fingers drumming on the wheel and lower lip caught between pearl teeth. Would Emma already be there? Would Billie Dean already be there? Would anyone know? Well, Jenny knew. Would Jenny say something? Blushing was never an option to Venable.

When the doors of the elevador opened on the seventh floor, Wilhemina couldn’t help but gulp. She walked a little slower than usual, with her head up high as it always were and heels clacking on the marble. Everything felt different. As she entered the main office, there was no sign of anyone there yet, but Venable’s heart had picked up in speed anyways. She took a deep breath and set her things down, coat on the backrest and bag on top of the table. The air was chilly, and the Christmas decorations had already been turned on. Brown eyes watched as the lights on the small Christmas tree right in the middle of the room changed colors, contrasting with the white marble that bathed the rest of the room. I do like how these look. Perhaps Wilhemina would hang a light or two in her house… maybe Billie Dean could help? She has her own life. Venable didn’t expect them to spend every second of their lives together, after all. Hell, she didn’t even know how Billie would feel this morning. I miss her lips already. Shaking the thought off, Wilhemina walked to the kitchen in order to get herself some coffee.

Billie Dean was always hungry, that was no news, but this morning she made sure to stop at a bakery nearby and get both herself and Wilhemina a croissant. When she took the first step into the office, Billie couldn’t help but be somewhat glad she had woken up earlier than usual due to the excitement of seeing a certain someone today. When her alarm went off in the morning, Billie Dean had already been getting dressed with a warm sweater and jeans. Honey eyes lighted up softly when she saw the purple purse on top of Venable’s table. Billie looked around; there seemed to be no one else in the office but the two of them. She bit her lower lip, purse on her forearm and bag of croissants in hand. “Wilhie?” she called softly.

In the kitchen, Wilhemina had already poured two mugs of warm coffee. W and BD. She barely had time to take a first sip before the sweet voice invaded her ears. Suddenly, her heart that had only now started to calm down began to beat fast again. The corners of her lips already arched up, and her skin wanted to turn red. Venable cleared her throat. “In the kitchen,” she called back.

With a smile that nearly went from ear to ear, Billie Dean bit her lower lip and walked that way. She peeked into the kitchen and her heart skipped a beat; how was it possible that Wilhemina looked even prettier than the night before? “Hi,” she said softly. She’s wearing a skirt. Billie tried not staring.

“Hi.” Venable allowed her hips to rest against the counter before setting the mug down on it. Her cane now rested on her thigh, beside her. She looked at honey eyes. I’ve missed her.

Gosh, she’s fucking gorgeous. Billie slowly walked into the kitchen. She placed her purse and the bag of croissants on the table before making her way towards Wilhemina. As she got close to her, Billie Dean found herself nervous; should she kiss her? Would Venable be uncomfortable if she did? I prefer to be wrong for giving her affection than for making her think I don’t want to be around her. That had already happened once, and it was one too many times for Billie’s liking. With palms a little sweaty and giving time for Wilhemina to pull away if she wanted to, Billie Dean reached to caress Venable’s hips. Her thumbs traced the rough cloth of her skirt, eyes glued on dark brown ones. Wilhemina seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, for no air seemed to get in or out of her lungs. Billie licked her lips. “Can I kiss you?” she whispered. Venable nodded and closed the gap between them right away, eyes closing as she savored the cherry she had been craving since the day before. Their kiss was slow, tender, and when they pulled away, Billie Dean felt a hand caressing her own waist back, and another cupping her cheek. She leaned against the palm. Their eyes reconnected. Billie thought she was about to melt with how deep Wilhemina stared at her. “I’ve missed you,” she said without really thinking, for thinking was hard when she had Venable’s lips so close to her own.

The words sent a shiver down Wilhemina’s body. She felt her chest engulfing in something warm, something good. “I’ve missed you, too.” She bit her lower lip, trying to stop a smile from spreading too widely on her cheeks. “You look beautiful.” I can’t feel the tobacco anymore.

“Look who’s saying,” Billie Dean teased. “With that pretty skirt.”

“Oh,” Wilhemina chuckled. Her cheeks tinted as her eyes looked away from Billie’s. I should have chosen the trousers… Her insides wanted to grow with discomfort from being noticed, but how actually uncomfortably was it? To be noticed like that, with a compliment, with loving eyes? Venable wasn’t used to that. “How are you?” She asked, trying desperately to get the focus away from herself. The hand on Billie Dean’s cheek now pulled a strand of blonde hair away from honey eyes, and then it slipped down to rest on the small of Billie’s back, lacing there with her other one. Billie Dean slightly stepped closer in order to get more comfortable. We’re in the middle of the office.

She’s shy. Billie knew she had to take it easy with compliments, but that wasn’t necessarily a natural thing for her to do; Billie Dean valued honesty, and so she was honest, too. “I’m alright, thank you. What about you?”

“Me too.” Venable struggled to keep the blush of her cheeks contained, for it wanted to jump out and crawl all over the skin of her body. I would never allow Emma to kiss me in the kitchen like that. “I’ve poured you some coffee.” Wilhemina looked over to the mug with the ‘BD’ initials on top of the counter; she wanted to pull away and grab it, hand it to Billie, but her hands seemed to fit so well on Billie Dean’s body they refused to move. Billie didn’t seem to mind; not at all, for she stood there comfortably, her own hands resting on Venable’s shoulders and caressing them.

“Thank you, darling.” Billie looked over to the mug before looking back at Wilhemina. She’s always thinking of me. With her lip between her pearl teeth again, Billie Dean stared at dark brown eyes. It feels so good to be here, with her.Her thumbs began to trace soft patterns on Venable’s cheekbones, feeling the warmth that radiated from the skin there. After a second, she spoke again. “Thank you for keeping me in mind.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Billie.” Wilhemina’s voice was quieter as well. She gulped, lips tingling from being just inches away from Billie Dean’s. We’re in the middle of the office, the thought slipped in again. I don’t think I care much about it right now. They were alone, after all. “I keep you in mind because you matter to me.” Shut up. You’re talking too much.

You matter to me. Billie would tattoo these words in her heart. Opening a sweet smile, she leaned to peck Venable’s lips, lingering there a little. All of the degrading voices disappeared right there and then inside Wilhemina’s mind. “You matter to me a lot,” Billie whispered, soon kissing Venable again. It was even slower this time, even more tender. Their lips met again and again in a sweet symphony, enjoying each other, savoring the touch. Until heels began to be heard from the main office. Wilhemina was the one to pull away this time, instantly reaching for her cane and standing up straight. Billie Dean got the cue and took a step back. Quick change. She would respect Venable’s ways.

“Sorry,” Wilhemina blurted out, because Billie looked a little lost and because she was not dumb. “I just—I don’t want to embarrass you. We’re at the workplace, after all.”

Embarras me? Billie Dean shook her head. It was not the time nor place to discuss that, though. “You could never embarras me,” she said instead, only to make sure Venable wouldn’t dwell on that until they could actually talk about it. “Besides… I’m the boss. It’s my workplace.” With a teasing smirk, Billie winked at Wilhemina and reached for her mug of coffee. The blush that spread all over Venable’s chest and cheeks was priceless. She let out a chuckle, taking a sip of coffee as she eyed Wilhemina. She did hate me for it back then. What a funny contrast.

Oh. Venable gulped. Again. Her legs got weak for a second, and her lower stomach turned into a puddle of something. She bit her lower lip, failing to stop it from curling up at the corners. “Indeed.” After clearing her throat, Wilhemina reached for her mug as well. I feel… a thing. The coffee didn’t feel as hot anymore.

Just as Billie Dean was about to tease Wilhemina again, chatter and more chatter filled the atmosphere. People had arrived, and so she looked at Venable and quickly leaned to peck her on the cheek. “If you’re hungry, there’s two croissants in the bag,” she whispered and pulled away.

Holding back a giggle, Wilhemina nodded. Her cheeks had grown even redder with the kiss, and she bit her lip tightly so no one would catch her grinning like an idiot. “Thank you,” she whispered back. Billie Dean nodded and took another sip of coffee, lips tugged up. The chattering began to get louder, and so dark brown eyes moved to the door; in no time, Emma and Jenny stepped inside the kitchen as they chatted about nothing at all.

“… but it’s stupid how they made it out to be ab—“ Emma stopped right in her tracks. Emerald oceans stared at Wilhemina, and then at Billie.

“Hi—hi!” Jenny blurted out as her eyes grew to the size of the Moon.

Fuck. Billie Dean felt her hands tightening the grip on her mug. She gulped. Her body suddenly craved for nicotine. “Hi.” From the corner of her eye, she saw how Venable stood up straight, head up high and free hand on her cane, holding it firmly.

Wilhemina wanted to jump on Emma and slap that stupid face of hers, but she was a woman of decency. So she decided she’d just be as far away from her as she possibly could. I can’t leave Billie Dean alone to deal with that. God only knew what Emma would say to Billie, and Venable would not forgive herself for allowing that to happen. Again. So she cleared her throat and took another sip of coffee. Silence had made itself room. Her eyes nearly pierced through Emma as she now focused on her. “Good morning,” her words were firm and collected, as cold as ice. They sent a message. Billie Dean’s body filled with goosebumps: how was it possible that Wilhemina managed to change her posture and mask her aura so swiftly?

“Good morning, Ms. Venable.” Jenny shifted her weight from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable. Wilhemina hummed back at her.

“Good morning, Wilhemina.” Emma smiled cynically, voice raising in tone as she noticeably meant to mock her. “How is your cat?” Green eyes never once left dark brown ones.

With her knuckles turning white from squeezing the cane so much, Venable felt her molars hurting. Her jaw felt as rigid as a rock from tensing it so much. Who did Emma think she was? To mock her like that, to ask her about Purpura like that? It’s your fault. She’s mocking you and you deserve it for letting her in your life when you know you’re meant to be alone. Her heart picked up in speed. Breathing was becoming hard. “That is none of your business.” Even though her body wanted to start trembling, Wilhemina’s voice was as steady as it always were.

Uh-oh. Billie gulped. From all the things she had expected Emma to do, rub the intimacy she had had with Venable was definitely not something she had seen coming. And for her to use that tone with Wilhemina was expected even less. She eyed Venable. Her muscles are nearly exploding underneath the skin of her neck. Billie Dean feared she’d break a tooth or two. I want to hold her hand. It was not the place nor the time to do so. “Jenny, do you have the pictures you told me about?” She quickly said before Emma could try and answer to Wilhemina.

“Y-yes. It’s in your e-mail.”

“Perfect.” Billie now turned to Emma, whom kept that stupid smirk on her face. “Emma, how is the report I asked you for going? If I remember correctly, the deadline was today.”

“Correct. And it will be on your desk by the end of the day.” Emma nodded, arms crossed and chest puffed out.

“I should go to my desk,” Venable held her mug tightly and began to make her way out of the kitchen. She needed a Valium, and she needed it now. Her mind was starting to grow hazy, and she kept forgetting to breathe.

Something’s off. Billie Dean looked at Venable, watching how she walked as stiff as a wall, nails white on the cane. She wanted to go after her, but would that be the right thing to do right now? In the workplace? With how reserved Wilhemina was? Billie felt herself a little lost. “Jenny, we should—we should get going.”

“Right.” The girl nearly jumped up, leaving the room as fast as she could. Billie Dean followed behind, leaving Emma alone in the kitchen. When the door of Billie’s office closed, Jenny instantly took a deep breath. “She’s pissed.”

“Well, yeah,” Billie chuckled weirdly. “So am I.” Granted, right now she was more worried about Wilhemina than pissed at Emma. With her lip caught between pearl teeth, she reached for her phone in her purse and took a seat. Her thumbs worked swiftly as she wrote a text to Venable: ’Are you alright? Do you need anything? Text me or come to my office if you do.’ When she looked back up, Jenny had already taken a seat as well. “The nerve of that woman…” she murmured after a second.

The girl licked her lips, nodding slowly. “Yeah… I bumped on her at the elevator, so we ended up getting to the office together.” Is she… explaining herself? “She didn’t mention anything regarding you. Or Ms. Venable.”

Setting her phone aside, Billie Dean shook her head. “There’s no need to explain why you were talking to her, Jenny,” she said softly. “The problem I have with her is between the two of us and Wilhemina.” Noticeably, Jenny relaxed a little on her chair.

“I’m your friend, though. Not Emma’s.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be cordial to her.” The last thing Billie wanted right now was for the office to become a war. “Truly, don’t worry about it. Do what feels right to you.” She reached for one of the girl’s hand, squeezing it softly.

With a small smile, Jenny gave her a nod. She squeezed Billie Dean’s hand back. “How are things with Ms. Venable?”

“They’re alright,” Billie chuckled. “Why do you call her like that?”

“That’s how she introduced herself to me, and I definitely don’t want to get scolded by her.”

Laughing a little louder, Billie Dean shook her head. “She won’t scold you.”

“You don’t know that… plus, she might be sweet to you, but she won’t open up to me like that.”

Billie hummed. She crossed her arms and smirked a little. “Are you scared of her?” Jenny’s cheeks blushed. She gasped. “You are!”

“It’s not my fault! She won’t really talk to me or show any emotions, how can I know what she’s thinking?!”

Laughing yet again, Billie Dean shook her head. “She’s harmless.” The girl hummed. “She really is… and very caring.”

“Go on…”

“Hm?”

“Go on, you owe me some details.” It was Jenny’s turn to let out a smirk.

“Don’t we have work to do?” Billie tried ignoring her own hot cheeks, but the corners of her lips kept on tugging up.

“Don’t even try.”

“Fair.” Billie Dean playfully rolled her eyes. “What do you want to know?” Her voice was a little quieter, now.

“Everything! Is she a good kisser? How’s her house? Have you two survived the weekend without sex?”

“Jenny!” Billie covered her face with her palms. The girl chuckled. “Yes, beautiful, yes.”

“What?”

“Your answers.”

“You can do better than that for the person who practically forced you to tell her how you felt.”

Groaning, Billie Dean peeked through her fingers before setting her hands back down. She bit her lower lip as she thought. “Her touches are… very gentle,” she began slowly. “Her kisses taste like wine, her house smells like lavender and so does her skin… she has a cat who’s the sweetest animal I’ve ever met, and she changes completely when she’s comfortable. She’s always making sure I’m not hungry, nor cold, nor uncomfortable… she hates my cold feet,” she chuckled, eyes far away. “And she is… well, she’s everything I thought she was. We’re both not worried about sex… we talked, got to know more of each other… watched Ratatouille,” she chuckled again. “Ordered food, slept in, spent the day in pajamas… cuddled, stared at each other… kissed a few times… and then Monday came, and we met at the kitchen before, you know...” She blinked twice, honey eyes focusing on Jenny again. The girl had a bright smile as she watched her. “Satisfied?” Billie arched an eyebrow.

“Very much so.” With her smirk growing more and more, Jenny kept on staring at Billie Dean.

“What?” Billie’s cheeks kept on getting hotter.

“Nothing,” Jenny shook her head. She let out a chuckle as she looked down and to her phone, starting to type on it. Billie Dean frowned. “I just think you’re in love,” she said after a minute.

Billie Dean hummed. I am. She reached for her own phone as well. There were no texts from Wilhemina, nor had she seen the one Billie had just sent her. I hope she’s okay. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at the girl. “Should we look at the pictures?”

“Sure.”

In the main office, Venable stared at the computer in front of her. Her hands had only now stopped shaking, and her heart was finally going back to normal. She had taken a Valium about ten minutes ago, in the bathroom. From the corner of her eye, she could see Emma on her desk, working as if everything was normal, with her hair perfectly done and makeup in place. I should have never let her in. Was it a mistake to let Billie Dean in, too? Wilhemina nibbled on the inside of her cheeks, trying desperately to focus on the excel sheet in front of her. Will Billie hurt me, too? Venable took a deep breath, eyes refusing to leave the monitor. Stop. Stop it. Billie Dean wasn’t like Emma. She hesitantly began to work on the report, using all of her inner strength to not allow her mind to slip at any dark places. It still did, from time to time, but the thoughts eventually calmed down. And then they became normal again, when the report was nearly done. She kept on working, only stopping when everything was ready to print. Reaching for her cane, Wilhemina got up. She waited for the papers to be done printing and reached for an envelope, slipping them inside before making her way to the hallway. As she had just walked past the kitchen, a voice invaded her ears.

“Wilhemina?” Emma called from behind. With a frown, Venable turned around. Oh, fuck off. “Can we talk?”

Holding back a chuckle at how utterly delirious that question was, Venable shook her head. “No, we can not.” She promptly turned back around and kept on walking towards Billie Dean’s office. A hand reached for her arm, and she instantly pulled away. “What the fuck are you doing?!” she whisper-yelled.

“I just want to talk!” Emma took a step back. “You owe me that!”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Oh, please.” Emma had that smug look on her face again. Venable could feel her blood starting to boil already. “You were screwing me not a week ago!”

“Shut up!”

“It’s true! But now that you’re fucking the Billie Dean Howard, you can’t even talk to me?” Emma chuckled bitterly. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Wilhemina’s words barely managed to find their way through her teeth.

“Don’t play stupid, Wilhemina. Why did you leave me for her? Couldn’t you have the decency to tell me before doing anything?” Venable’s molars were back at hurting. Emma took a step closer, causing Wilhemina to back away. “She’s not good for you,” Emma whispered, eyes nearly piercing through Venable’s. “She’s going to use you, and then she’ll discard you. That’s what she does. She can have any thing, any time.”

“Shut up,” Wilhemina hissed out yet again.

“Do you know what she did to Terry?” Emma waited for an answer, but Venable only stared at her. “You don’t know, do you?” Green eyes kept glued on brown ones. “It started just like that… and then she was fired when Billie Dean was done playing with her. That’s what is going to happen to you, too.” Slowly, Emma reached to play with a fiery lock.

Wilhemina moved her head away. “Do not touch me.” She fought not to allow her eyes to fill with tears.

“Meet me for lunch… I’ll tell you everything.”

With her body as tense as an elastic being pulled too hard, Venable shook her head. “Leave us alone,” she growled and turned around, stopping to walk only when she reached Billie Dean’s office. Taking a deep breath, Wilhemina closed her eyes for a second; matching tears slipped down, and she quickly wiped them away. Once she opened her eyes again, Venable cleared her throat and knocked at the door, posture as neat as always. In no time, Jenny peeked out.

“Oh,” the girl quickly stepped aside. “Come on in.”

“Thank you.” With her breath a little labored again, Wilhemina stepped inside. Her eyes instantly fell on Billie; on how gorgeous she looked, sitting behind the wooden table with her eyes focused on a stack of papers on top of it. As her heels clacked on the floor, honey eyes looked up to meet her. Billie Dean opened a smile, and Venable felt her insides melting a little.

“I’ll go get some coffee.” With a wink to Billie, Jenny was quick to close the door and leave them alone.

Billie Dean couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as she sat up straight. She doesn’t even like coffee. Her eyes went back to Wilhemina again. She looks nervous. “Hi, darling.”

Darling. Venable bit her inner cheek. “Hello.” She stepped closer, setting the envelope on the table. “The report you asked me for.”

“Perfect.” Billie Dean backed the chair away. “Come here.”With a gulp, Venable walked around the table, standing right in front of Billie. With a smile, Billie Dean got up. They stared at each other, and only now, up close, Billie realized the tiny, almost unnoticeable smears of tears on Wilhemina’s beautiful cheeks. She frowned. “You were crying…” What did that woman say to her? Instantly, she reached for Venable’s free hand and tangled their fingers together. “What happened?”

Wilhemina took a deep breath. She kept her eyes glued on honey ones, afraid to look away. “Nothing happened.” Don’t you dare.

Oh no. Billie didn’t like when Venable lifted her walls like that, for it nearly always meant something bad. “Wilhie…” Her fingers caressed the digits between them, and she could see, behind those dark brown eyes, the inner struggle going on inside Wilhemina. “Was it Emma?” It was hesitant, but Venable nodded before looking down. Billie Dean’s frown grew. “What did she do?” She’s not caressing my hand back. Billie had a feeling she already knew what Emma had done.

Good. Explain yourself, now. Wilhemina squeezed the cane a little harsher. “She just… she asked me out for lunch.” She looked at Billie Dean again. Should I trust her like that? Was it safe to let her in? Would she be another Terry? What had even happened between Billie and Terry?

“What—what did you say?” Does she regret me?

“I said no, of course.” Venable watched how Billie’s chest had begun to move a little faster. She’s nervous. Wilhemina could feel herself starting to grow overwhelmed, and Billie Dean’s fingers no longer felt right tangled in her own. As gentle as she could, Venable pulled her hand away. Billie blinked once, glancing down at their hands. The look that settled on Billie Dean’s face caused Wilhemina to feel even more disappointed in herself. I’m hurting her. But her whole body refused to allow itself to be touched, to be felt, to be noticed as something that existed in physical form. Billie only nodded, waiting for Venable to say something else, anything else. Wilhemina’s jaw was tense again. “B-Billie, what happened between you and Terry?”

[rhythmicgymnasticsnews]

Paris 2024 Groups All-Around Qualifications Live Blog

Top 8 advance to the final.

This post will be updated throughout the competiton!

Rotation 1 (5 hoops)

China - some small deviations in the first collaboration, but they’ve managed well. Synchro a bit off during fouettes. Not their cleanest today, they’ve had multiple two-handed catches and awry trajectories. - 35.500 *inquiry - score stays the same

Azerbaijan - one gymnast missed catching out of sight. Hoop hit the ground right before catching. Overall beautiful work for Azerbaijan! - 33.850 *inquiry - score unchanged

Ukraine - aaand they start with a drop. Quite a lot of mistakes for them, moments with lack of synchronization and some awry trajectories. Not exactly the start they wished for. - 35.450

Germany - nice save from one of gymnasts! A small fumble, but they fought through. Loss of sync during fouettes. One gymnast almost went OOB trying to save a throw. - 33.700

Bulgaria - a bit of hopping during the dynamic balance from Minevska. A bit of a dubious catch, the body didn’t go all the way through the hoop. Strong start for them, however! - 37.700

Mexico - wonderful choreography with the Olympic symbol! They start well, good amplitude during BDs, nice synchronization. Loss of rhythm. DROP AND OOB! They go for the replacement. And another drop right in the end! What a shame, they started lovely… - 29.700

France - good start for France! Some really close calls, but they’ve saved everything admirably! There were a couple of moments when the synchronization wasn’t perfect, but overall it was a strong start. - 36.600

Brazil - ugh not the best routine for Brazil. Multiple moments when they weren’t in sync. Almost a loss, but managed to save it right on the OOB line. Mistake in the end, hoop hit the carpet before catching. E score will take a hit… - 35.950

Spain - DROP FOR SPAIN! They follow with another big mistake, gymnast rushes for the hoop and falls in the process. Multiple rhythm breaks. One of the gymnast doesn’t finish the last risk… many mistakes and they’re in grave danger… - 30.100 *inquiry - score raised to 30.400

Uzbekistan - good work from Uzbekistan. Definitely not the cleanest, but they had no huge loss! - 33.550

Egypt - wonderful to see Egypt here! Good routine, no major mistakes for them. Some form and synchronization issues, but they did a good job! - 30.850

Italy - Laura missed going through the hoop in one of the individual risks. They weren’t as in sync as they should during fouettes (I swear everyone had trouble today with them). Minor mistakes, a stronge routine overall! - 38.200

Australia - very entertaining routine for Australia! No major mistakes for them! - 31.400

Israel - quick save of that deviated throw. One of them misses one rotation under the individual risk. AND A DROP! Lose their rhythm, dance steps sequence has already started. Not the start they wanted… - 35.250

Rotation 2 (3+2)

China - no huge mistakes for them, but definitely with some errors. Moments when ribbon rested on the floor and some catches close to the body of the balls and some grabbing. - 32.400

Azerbaijan - good start, they move nicely in sync. Two hands during collaborations and individual risks, someone missed catching without hands. AND A DROP! I don’t understand what happened there, they got disoriented perhaps because that ribbon could’ve been saved. And an awry boomerang in the end, music ends and they don’t try to retrieve the ribbon… Messy routine… - 28.150 *inquiry - score unchanged

Ukraine - two of them almost collided, but fortunately avoided it at the last moment! Entertaining routine, without major mistakes. - 33.500

Germany - DROP for Germany right in the begging, such a weird mistake I think the ball just slipped. Multiple errors follow, one of them might’ve OOB in the far right corner. Oh no, big tangle, takes a while to fix it. One ball goes OOB in the meantime and they finish without apoaratus… They’re out of the top 8. - 23.650

Bulgaria - no large errors for them! Stoyanov almost went OOB saving a ribbon and then later fell a bit out of her penche balance. Some close calls overall, but they’ve saved everything nicely! - 32.700

Mexico - ribbon gets caught and can’t do the individual risk. Gets tangled in the ribbon in the process. Multiple mistakes for them, unfortunately. A very entertaining routine, however! - 27.800

France - drop for them, although they’ve tried to cover it up. Some messy formations and loss of synchronization. Execution wise, it wasn’t their very best. A very entertaining routine, though! - 32.200

Brazil - ONE OF THEM IS INJURED! This is horrible to watch… she can’t perform any BD, she’s struggling to perform. I have no words the poor things…- 24.950

Spain - multiple mistakes for Spain, but fortunately they kept it together and had no really huge errors. - 30.000 - they must of went OOB at some point and I missed it, some of the angles weren’t the best. *inquiry - score unchanged

Uzbekistan - they fought through! Nice synchronization during the dynamic balance, good amplitude. Multiple mistakes, has some really close saves. - 30.450

Egypt - messy routine for Egypt. Multiple drops, which messed with the rhythm and formations. Such a pity, they did a good job with 5 hoops. - 25.050

Italy - DROP during the individual risk. They had multiple mistakes, unfortunately. Small tangles, awry trajectories. They need better than today’s routine to win tomorrow’s final… - 31.150

Australia - not a very high difficulty, but what they had, they did well! Good interpretation of the music. Hope this group stays, they’ve really improved in the last couple of years. - 27.050

Israel - they start with an almost drop. Loss of sync during the penche balance. Same goes for the fouettes. Chasseing to get to catch the ribbon. KNOT! Fixes it quickly. A bit out of sync again during the dance steps sequence. Not the cleanest routine for them either. They should be safely through, however! - 31.900