#big boss latest news

[headlinesindia]

Bigg Boss 16 में Sajid Khan चला रहे है दबंगई, उड़ा रहे हैं नियमों की धज्जियां, फैमिली' को मिल रहा वीआईपी ट्रीटमेंट

Big Boss 16 में इन दिनों उन सामान्य नियमों की धज्जियां उड़ती दिख रही है, शो में लगातार नियमों का उल्लंघन होता हुए देखा जा सकता है। जिन्हें आम तौर पर इस रियलिटी शो में फॉलो किया जाता रहा है,फिर फैमिली सिस्टम तो Big Boss 16 सीजन की खासियत के तौर पर उभरा है। खुले तौर पर देखा जा सकता है कि घर के कुछ सदस्यों को शुरू से खास फायदा मिलता नजर आ रहा है।वैसे Sajid Khan तो बिग बॉस के नियमों को बिल्कुल भी मानते नहीं हैं और बिग बॉस भी उन्हें किसी काम के लिए कहते नजर नहीं आते हैं।

खुले आम पीते है सिगरेट Sajid Khan इसकी सबसे बड़ी मिसाल साजिद खान का खुले में सिगरेट पीना है. जब सब कोई स्मोकिंग रूम में स्मोक करते हैं, वैसे में साजिद खान स्मोकिंग रूम के बाहर बैठकर अकसर सिगरेट पीते नजर आते हैं. अभी तक किसी भी सीजन में इस तरह खुले तौर पर किसी को स्मोक करते नहीं दिखाया गया है. न तो बिग बॉस साजिद खान को कुछ कहते हैं, और न ही साजिद खान कुछ सुनने के लिए ही तैयार हैं. वो खुद को सारे बिग बॉस कंटेस्टेंट्स का बाप बताते हैं. फिर कई कंटेस्टेंट्स की तो उनके सामने जुबान तक नहीं खुलती है।

Read More On Headlines India

[shaktiknowledgeblog]

big boss | big boss voting | big boss winner | big boss latest news | shalinbhanot | big boss 16

After Shaleen Bhanot, this contestant also got a ticket from the ‘Bigg Boss 16 Finale’, a big increase in prize money Shaleen Bhanot, who reached the grand finale of ‘Bigg Boss 16’, is out of the race for the trophy. Interestingly, after his exit, the prize money increased. Another contestant has been eliminated from the trophy race. Now there is a tough competition between the 3…

[bolllywoodhungama]

REVEALED! Bigg Boss OTT Season 2 to start premiering from June 17; deets inside.

Actor Salman Khan, the long-standing host of the popular reality show Bigg Boss, is all set to make his debut as the host of Bigg Boss OTT. After filmmaker Karan Johar's successful stint as the host of the show's first season in 2021, fans are eagerly anticipating Salman Khan's unique touch as he takes over the reins for the upcoming season, which is set to start streaming on June 17 on JioCinema.

Speaking of the contestants this year, Mahesh Poojary, Awez Darbar, Pooja Gor, Anjali Arora, Poonam Pandey, Faisal Shaikh, Anurag Doval, Sambhavna Seth, and Sunidee Chauhan will be participating. In fact, it is reported that Mahesh Poojary and Awez Darbar's promo has been shot and they are the first contestants together to enter the house in the show.

Click here to read more details.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Efficiency" left the Big Three vulnerable to smart UAW tactics

Tomorrow (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tomorrow night, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 143 days since the WGA went on strike against the Hollywood studios. While early tactical leaks from the studios had studio execs chortling and twirling their mustaches about writers caving once they started losing their homes, the strikers aren't wavering – they're still out there, pounding the picket lines, every weekday:

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/08/09/how-hollywood-writers-make-ends-meet-100-days-into-the-writers-guild-strike.html

The studios obviously need writers. That gleeful, anonymous studio exec who got such an obvious erotic charge at the thought of workers being rendered homeless as punishment for challenging his corporate power completely misread the room, and his comments didn't demoralize the writers. Instead, they inspired the actors to go on strike, too.

But how have the writers stayed out since May Day? How have the actors stayed out for 69 days since their strike started on Bastille Day? We can thank the studios for that! As it turns out, the studios have devoted so much energy to rendering creative workers as precarious as possible, hiring as little as they can getting away with and using punishing overtime as a substitute for adequate staffing that they've eliminated all the workers who can't survive on side-hustles and savings for six or seven months at a time.

But even for those layoff-hardened workers, long strikes are brutal, and of course, all the affiliated trades, from costumers to grips, are feeling the pain. The strike fund only goes so far, and non-striking, affected workers don't even get that. That's why I've been donating regularly to the Entertainment Community Fund, which helps all affected workers out with cash transfers (I just gave them another $500):

https://secure2.convio.net/afa/site/Donation2?df_id=8117&8117.donation=form1&mfc_pref=T

As hot labor summer is revealed as a turning point – not just a season – long strikes will become the norm. Bosses still don't believe in worker power, and until they get their minds right, they're going to keep on trying to starve their workforces back inside. To get a sense of how long workers will have to hold out, just consider the Warrior Met strike, where Alabama coal-miners stayed out for 23 months:

https://www.thenation.com/article/activism/warrior-met-strike-union/

As Kim Kelly explained to Adam Conover in the latest Factually podcast, the Alabama coal strikers didn't get anywhere near the attention that the Hollywood strikers have enjoyed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvyMHf7Yg0Q

(To learn more about the untold story of worker organizing, from prison unions to the key role that people of color and women played in labor history, check out Kelly's book, "Fight Like Hell," now in paperback:)

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

Which brings me to the UAW strike. This is an historic strike, the first time that the UAW has struck all of the Big Three automakers at once. Past autoworkers' strikes have marked turning points for all American workers. The 1945/46 GM strike established employers' duty to cover worker pensions, health care, and cost of living allowances. The GM strike created the American middle-class:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-18-uaw-strikes-built-american-middle-class/

The Big Three are fighting for all the marbles here. They are refusing to allow unions to organize EV factories. Given that no more internal combustion cars will be in production in just a few short years, that's tantamount to eliminating auto unions altogether. The automakers are flush with cash, including billions in public subsidies from multiple bailouts, along with billions more from greedflation price-gouging. A long siege is inevitable, as the decimillionaires running these companies earn their pay by starving out their workers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/general-motors-ceo-mary-barra-salary-auto-workers-strike-uaw-2023-9

The UAW knows this, of course, and their new leadership – helmed by the union's radical president Shawn Fain – has a plan. UAW workers are engaged in tactical striking, shutting down key parts of the supply chain on a rolling basis, making the 90-day strike fund stretch much farther:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2023-09-18-labors-militant-creativity/

In this project, they are greatly aided by Big Car's own relentless pursuit of profit. The automakers – like every monopolized, financialized sector – have stripped all the buffers and slack out of their operations. Inventory on hand is kept to a bare minimum. Inputs are sourced from the cheapest bidder, and they're brought to the factory by the lowest-cost option. Resiliency – spare parts, backup machinery – is forever at war with profits, and profits have won and won and won, leaving auto production in a brittle, and easily shattered state.

This is especially true for staffing. Automakers are violently allergic to hiring workers, because new workers get benefits and workplace protection. Instead, the car companies routinely offer "voluntary" overtime to their existing workforce. By refusing this overtime, workers can kneecap production, without striking.

Enter "Eight and Skate," a campaign among UAW workers to clock out after their eight hour shift. As Keith Brower Brown writes for Labor Notes, the UAW organizers are telling workers that "It’s crossing an unofficial picket line to work overtime. It’s helping out the company":

https://labornotes.org/2023/09/work-extra-during-strike-auto-workers-say-eight-and-skate

Eight and Skate has already started to work; the Buffalo Ford plant can no longer run its normal weekend shifts because workers are refusing to put in voluntary overtime. Of course, bosses will strike back: the next step will be forced overtime, which will lead to the unsafe conditions that unionized workers are contractually obliged to call paid work-stoppages over, shutting down operations without touching the strike fund.

What's more, car bosses can't just halt safety stoppages or change the rules on overtime; per the UAW's last contract, bosses are required to bargain on changes to overtime rules:

https://uaw.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Working-Without-Contract-FAQ-FINAL-2.pdf

Car bosses have become lazily dependent on overtime. At GM's "highly profitable" SUV factory in Arlington, TX, normal production runs a six-days, 24 hours per day. Workers typically work five eight-hour days and nine hours on Saturdays. That's been the status quo for 11 years, but when bosses circulated the usual overtime signup sheet last week, every worker wrote "a big fat NO" next to their names.

Writing for The American Prospect, David Dayen points out that this overtime addiction puts a new complexion on the much-hyped workerpocalypse that EVs will supposedly bring about. EVs are much simpler to build than conventional cars, the argument goes, so a US transition to EVs will throw many autoworkers out of work:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-20-big-threes-labor-shortages-uaw/

But the reality is that most autoworkers are doing one and a half jobs already. Reducing the "workforce" by a third could leave all these workers with their existing jobs, and the 40-hour workweek that their forebears fought for at GM inn 1945/46. Add to that the additional workers needed to make batteries, build and maintain charging infrastructure, and so on, and there's no reason to think that EVs will weaken autoworker power.

And as Dayen points out, this overtime addiction isn't limited to cars. It's also endemic to the entertainment industry, where writers' "mini rooms" and other forms of chronic understaffing are used to keep workforces at a skeleton crew, even when the overtime costs more than hiring new workers.

Bosses call themselves job creators, but they have a relentless drive to destroy jobs. If there's one thing bosses hate, it's paying workers – hence all the hype about AI and automation. The stories about looming AI-driven mass unemployment are fairy tales, but they're tailor made for financiers who get alarming, life-threatening priapism at the though of firing us all and replacing us with shell-scripts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

This is why Republican "workerism" rings so hollow. Trump's GOP talks a big game about protecting "workers" (by which they mean anglo men) from immigrants and "woke captialism," but they have nothing to say about protecting workers from bosses and bankers who see every dime a worker gets as misappropriated from their dividend.

Unsurprisingly, conservative message-discipline sucks. As Luke Savage writes in Jacobin, for every mealymouthed Josh Hawley mouthing talking points that "support workers" by blaming China and Joe Biden for the Big Three's greed, there's a Tim Scott, saying the quiet part aloud:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/republicans-uaw-strike-hawley-trump-scott/

Quoth Senator Scott: "I think Ronald Reagan gave us a great example when federal employees decided they were going to strike. He said, you strike, you’re fired. Simple concept to me. To the extent that we can use that once again, absolutely":

https://twitter.com/American_Bridge/status/1704136706574741988

The GOP's workerism is a tissue-thin fake. They can never and will never support real worker power. That creates an opportunity for Biden and Democrats to seize:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

Reversing two generations of anti-worker politics is a marathon, not a sprint. The strikes are going to run for months, even years. Every worker will be called upon to support their striking siblings, every day. We can do it. Solidarity now. Solidarity forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

[rangpurcity]

Mika Singh's girlfriend Akanksha Puri was seen in hot pants in the cold winter, the fan said - 'You are setting fire'

Mika Singh’s girlfriend Akanksha Puri was seen in hot pants in the cold winter, the fan said – ‘You are setting fire’

Akanksha Puri Latest PICS: Akanksha Puri is an Indian actress and model, who is known for working in Hindi TV shows, some South Indian films like Tamil, Malayalam and Kannada apart from Bollywood films. She is best known for her role of Goddess Parvati in ‘Vighnaharta Ganesh’ and gained tremendous popularity from this show. However, in recent times, Akanksha takes attention of fans with her…

[astrolynnworld]

warmhearted reveals

pairing: matt x reader

summary: you tell matt that you’re pregnant

warnings: fluff! love, romance, confessions, reassurance.

word count: 656

i prepared a nice dinner for when matt comes home so i can tell him the big news.

i can’t tell if he’ll be excited, shocked, or anxious. this is a big step in our lives, and i just hope he supports it

we have talked about wanting kids in the past, but we haven’t discussed goal, time, or plan.

i anticipate his arrival at the door as i let the food simmer on the stove for a little longer.

“baby? i’m home” matt says as he walks in through the front door

i go to greet him with a kiss and hug

“someone’s in a good mood today” he smiles as he sets down his stuff into the nearby office room

“you hungry? i made your favorite!” i gleefully share as he follows me to the kitchen

“duh!” he joking says, “it smells so good bae”

i prepare a plate for him before we sit across the dinner table

“how was work today?” i question

“it was great actually..”

“really? how so?” i follow up

“sucks to say but, one of the head managers of the inquiries office had gotten fired today because he violated one of the company policies, right?” he starts

“mhm” i acknowledge

“so they needed someone to take his job, and the head boss had put in a good word for me because he sees my progress in the job and says that i’ve been working hard for the last few months now.” he continues

“oh my god!! really? that’s so good baby. so what’s gonna happen?” i further ask

“well. today they had discussed it over a board meeting and went over some of my latest work to decide if i would be a good fit on the team and .. they all agreed.”

“BABY!!! that’s such great news oh my godd!! i’m so happy for you!! so you basically got promoted to the higher ups of the office right?” i proudly support

“yeah! and they’re raising my pay my 50%” he shares

“i’m so so happy for you matt!! great news all around. more money to go towards us and the baby!!” i quickly slip out

“what?” he questions

a smile plasters across my face

“i’m pregnant baby.”

he pauses and looks quickly takes a glance down at my stomach

“a- are you serious?” he anxiously stutters out

i nod my head slowly as i start to tear up

he comes around the table and kneels in front of me

“you’re not joking baby?” he says as the tears start to well up in his eyes

i shake my head no as i chuckle softly; tears starting to fall down my cheeks

he takes my hand and stands me up before embracing me into his own

“baby. we’re having a kid” he says as he tries to process his shock

“you’re pregnant with my baby right now, princess” he says as he pulls back from me

i see the tears starting to drip his face

“i can’t believe this baby. you’re really not lying to me?” he questions one more time

i grab his face and start to wipe his tears, “you’re gonna be a father, matt”

he lets his face fall into my hands as he brings his forehead to mine

“i can’t believe i’m about to start a family with you baby. it’s all i’ve ever dreamed of, since we were teenagers” he confesses

“i just can’t believe you’re really mine.” he says before kissing my forehead, “all mine.”

“i love you so so so so much, matt.” i speak out

“i love you so much more baby.” he kisses my lips, “both of you” he says as places his hand on my stomach

“why don’t you hop into bed, i’ll clean up dinner. there’s so many plans we have to discuss” he eagerly says

i laugh at his enthusiasm as i head back to the bedroom.

———————————————————————- taglist: @lenna-77 @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

[mechaknight-98]

Human Resources (NSFW) FT Hyewon Kang

You were working on tightening up Leo's datasheet when Hyewon's teams' message popped up in your feed. You ignored it until you finished cleaning up the datasheet. after that, you read Hyewon's message carefully.

"Hey, can you come to my office? I need to talk to you about something." The message read, and your heart sank. You knew Hyewon, or as you used to call her, Hyem. When you first started working at this company, she was your first friend, the one who made the daunting transition into a new job feel manageable. But then the big boss—the dreaded Miyawaki—made a very expedited decree that there would be no "special associations at work." That all but killed your budding relationship with the HR specialist.

You avoided her with all your might after that. No more talking about shared musical tastes or the latest anime; it was just "Hi" and "Bye." It was rough, but you endured it. Rules were rules, after all. Although increasingly, it felt like it was more rules for them and not for me, as an increasing number of your coworkers became engaged in "special associations."

You arrive in Hyewon's office after narrowly avoiding Leo, and Nako making out in the office of his door. "So much for professionalism," you mutter as you turn a corner. Before you cross the threshold you hear from down the hall.

"Yes fuck my pussy," being yelled/moaned by the Event coordinator Yena and your friend Levi. You grimaced as another one of your friends fell to this almost permeable lust that had taken everyone over, but hey at least they're not as bad as Eunbi and Izzy because that is the last time you work on a Saturday. Hesitantly you open the door and see Hyewon and she looks pissed. her pretty face is contorted in an annoyed grimace that leaves you worried.

"Hey Hyewon," you say hesitantly hoping to ameliorate whatever has her so livid, but you'd be remiss if you didn't mention how her anger was such a turn-on. it was the fourth thing you two bonded over, both of you were chaos gremlins who reveled in indignation.

when she hears your voice she looks up at you with a pleasant smile before saying, "Oh good you're here. Close the door." you do as she says and sit in the chairs across her desk as she sits in her chair.

"I suppose you're wondering why I messaged you to come in," Hyewon said calmly.

you are about to speak but are interrupted when you hear a familiar voice moan,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, make me cum daddy," you recognize the voice, and you are livid.

"that arrogant and egotistical bitch." you say. You can feel a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth despite yourself. Her passion, her fire—it’s one of the things you admire, and miss most about her. "Yeah, that sounds pretty typical," you reply, trying to keep your tone soothing yet acknowledging the absurdity. "It’s like they get off on making our lives difficult."

Hyewon’s eyes narrow, her irritation still palpable but now mixed with a hint of amusement. "Exactly! And they don't even follow their own rules. If I have to hear about another office romance getting special treatment while we’re here drowning in work because we follow the rules, I might scream. Especially since Sakura can't keep her hands off what's his name?"

"Momotaro" You answer.

"Thanks, sweetie," Hyewon says in a tone that's both adorable and alluring. you sit in your chair trying to hide your growing erection. Hyewon doesn't seem to notice.

Hyewon takes a deep breath, her fingers tapping lightly on her desk. "I know things have been... different between us since Miyawaki's decree. I hate how it affected our friendship."

You nod, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Yeah, it’s been tough. I miss our talks."

"Me too," she says, her voice softer now. "But, I noticed something lately. A lot of our coworkers seem to be ignoring that rule, and nothing's happened to them. It seems unfair that we had to stop being friends because of it."

You lean back in your chair, considering her words. "I've noticed that too. It's like the rules only apply to some people, and it doesn't seem right."

Hyewon nods vigorously. "Exactly. And I was thinking... maybe it's time we stopped letting it dictate our friendship. If others can have their 'special associations' without consequence, why should we be any different?"

A spark of hope ignites within you. "You think we can just... go back to how things were?"

"I do," she says firmly. "But more than that, I want us to catch up properly. There's a lot we've missed out on. I was wondering if you'd like to go grab lunch with me today. We can talk about everything—anime, music, life."

"Great," Hyewon says, her smile mirroring yours. "Let's meet at noon and catch up properly."

"Hell yeah, screw her. Hell, let's get lunch right now. Since the whole office is entangled in each other right now," you respond with a grin.

Hyewon smiles, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she grabs her coat and mask. "Sounds like a plan." The two of you head to her car and hop in. She speeds off towards the Korean BBQ place you two were supposed to go to a year ago before everything got complicated.

On the way there, you both fall into a comfortable conversation, the familiarity of old friends making the time fly by.

"So when did Momo and Kura become a thing?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

Hyewon chuckles, shaking her head. "I don't know exactly, but I think they started getting closer about two and a half weeks ago. That's when I noticed a change in their interactions. They started using nicknames and having more one-on-one meetings."

You raise an eyebrow. "Nicknames? Really? That's bold, even for them."

"Yeah, it's like they're not even trying to hide it," Hyewon says with a scoff. "I mean, good for them, I guess, but it’s just so hypocritical. Miyawaki's decree doesn't apply to them."

"Of course not," you agree, rolling your eyes. "It's like there's one set of rules for them and another for the rest of us."

"You know three days ago I caught her giving him a blowjob in her office after she has scheduled a meeting with me to discuss my relationship with you."

"That's such bullshit," you affirm. Hyewon nods.

At the restaurant, the two of you finally have a chance to catch up after nearly a year apart. The ambiance is cozy, with soft lighting and a low hum of conversation filling the air. You settle into a booth by the window, and the familiar scent of grilled food and fresh coffee instantly makes you feel at ease.

"So, what have you been up to?" Hyewon asks, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as she takes a sip of her iced tea.

You smile, thinking back over the past year. "Honestly, just the usual grind. But I did get into a few new shows. Have you seen Elric of Melibone?"

Hyewon's face lights up. "Yes! It's amazing, right? I love the way they adapted the books. Henry Cavill as Elric is just perfect."

"I know, right?" you say, leaning forward. "The storytelling is fantastic. And the fight scenes! The choreography is just insane."

Hyewon nods enthusiastically. "Totally. Oh, and I've been watching Demon Slayer. The animation is out of this world. Have you seen it?"

"I have! The colors, the details, everything is just so beautiful. Plus, the story is gripping. I can't wait for the next season."

The conversation flows effortlessly as you both delve into the different shows and anime you've been enjoying. It's as if no time has passed at all. You talk about the latest season of Stranger Things, the mind-bending twists in Westworld, and the nostalgic joy of rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender.

"Do you remember how we used to binge-watch Naruto back after work to avoid traffic when we started?" Hyewon reminisces with a laugh. "We'd stay up all night just to see what happened next."

You chuckle, nodding. "Of course! And we had those ridiculous debates about who was the strongest character. Good times."

The waiter comes by to refill your drinks and take your orders, and you continue to chat about your favorite episodes and characters. The restaurant gradually empties as the evening progresses, but you hardly notice, lost in conversation.

By the time you both decide to head back to the office, the sun has dipped below noon, casting long shadows across the pavement. The walk back is filled with more laughter and stories, and it feels like no time has passed since you last hung out.

When the two of you get back to the office, it's empty. The usual bustle and noise are replaced by an almost eerie silence, the kind that only happens when everyone else has left for the day.

"Looks like we have the place to ourselves," you remark, flipping on the lights.

"I wonder where everyone went," Hyewon says sarcastically, knowing the two of you would be here alone until the end of the business day. She rolls her eyes as she glances around the empty office, the desks barren and the usual hum of chatter conspicuously absent.

"Probably off doing stuff," you reply with a smirk, shaking your head. "It's like Valentine's Day came early or something."

Hyewon snorts her expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Right? It's not like we have a ton of work to get through or anything." Her sarcasm is as sharp as ever, and you can't help but laugh.

Since you have the office to yourselves, the two of you decide to take advantage of the peace and quiet. You gather your work laptops and head into the conference room, setting up to watch Attack on Titan from the beginning together.

As the first episode starts, you both dive into your tasks, the sound of Eren's declarations of vengeance serves as hype background noise. The rhythm of work and anime is oddly comforting. You blaze through spreadsheets and reports, pausing only when a particularly intense scene demands your full attention.

During a mini-break, Hyewon leans back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. "You know," she muses, "I bet all those couples are out there spending a fortune on overpriced dinners and romantic getaways, while we're here getting stuff done and watching some of the best anime ever made."

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. "We are doing better. Plus, no distractions from people asking about our weekend plans or trying to set us up with their single friends."

"Ugh, exactly," Hyewon groans, rolling her eyes dramatically. "If I hear one more story about someone's perfect date, I might just scream."

The two of you share a knowing look, bonded by your mutual disdain for the forced romanticism that seems to have overtaken your colleagues. Another episode ends, and you both get back to work, the sound of keystrokes mingling with the anime's soundtrack.

By the end of the shift, you've not only finished half a season but also completed four days' worth of work. Hyewon shuts her laptop with a satisfied sigh. "See? Who needs romantic distractions when we've got Titans to slay and work to conquer?"

You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie and accomplishment. "Exactly. Same time tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," Hyewon grins, standing up and stretching again. "Let's see if we can finish the season and clear out the rest of the week's tasks."

You smiled as you nodded. While everyone else was off chasing romance, you and Hyewon had created your own little sanctuary of productivity and anime, and it was perfect. Before you get too invested you take a look at your watch.

"Oh shit it's 5 pm Already," you say looking at your watch. you groan. you should have left three hours ago but being here with Hyewon made the time fly by. you begin to pack up for the day but Hyewon has other plans. She gets up from her office chair and pulls you into a competition of who has the strongest tongue. She wins due to the element of surprise as you clumsily accept her kiss. when she breaks the kiss she looks at you with lust.

"You know what we should do?" she says

"Hang out at your place so I don't have to drive home and be stuck in 3-hour traffic?" Hyewon smiles.

"Yes that, but also we should fuck in Sakura's office as payback." Hyewon proposes. you nod and smile wickedly. the two of you walk up to Sakura's office. the golden hour shades Hyewon in an almost godly glow. you smile watching her.

"What?" she says bashfully as she catches your gaze. you laugh and say,

"I can't look at my beautiful girlfriend now?" Hyewon blushes at your words before lifting her sun dress's straps off her shoulders showing her toned and fit body.

"God I should go to the gym," you note. Hyewon shakes her head as she pulls you in for a kiss.

"and get rid of all this beefcake. I don't think so," Hyewon asserted before kissing you. Your hands run up and down her thighs, as I try to figure out what to do with my hands before Hyewon confidently puts them on her breasts. She breaks the kiss and begins to suck around your collarbone and neck.

"I want everyone in this office to know you're mine now, and there's nothing they can do because if they complain all I'll say is. I can file a complaint but I will have to report your indiscretions around Mrs. Miyawaki's policy as well." Hyewon declared before taking you into another kiss. you smiled as she began to grind her clothed pussy toward you. you moan into the kiss.

"Oh darling you're so hard for me. I love it. I have been thinking about this all morning."

You smile and say, "Oh really you dirty girl." Hyewon smiles before turning around and inviting you to pound her pussy. You don't even think twice as you strip out of your office clothes and plunge right into her. her wet cunt readily accepts your intrusion as Hyewon moans.

"Fuck your fat cock is filling me so well." you smile as you begin to thrust into her the indignation both of you felt about this stupid situation has you reeling as you pound into her pussy relentlessly. Hyewon moans enraptured by your cock as she takes it.

"yes, yes, yes. I'm close." Hyewon moans through your fervent and frustrated thrust. the both of you needed this. needed to defile your bitch of a boss's office so when she came you knew to push her onto your boss's desk as she squirted all over the wood and metal. when she was done she smeared all of her cum over the desk and made sure it was fully absorbed before going back to you.

"I want you to finish in her chair so when she comes in tomorrow she's bombarded by the smell of our sex," she says you smile at her dark little heart's desire and follow her as she guides you by the dick. she begins to stroke you while she whispers the most evil words of encouragement,

"Please cum. make her wallow in our sex. make her pay for separating us for a year and a half. Make her pay for all the times we could have movie dates, or gone to stay in nights just playing video games together. make her pay for all the stolen orgasms we could have had together. make her pay for all the time lost." her words are so enticing that your cum races out as your orgasm hits you like a train and your cum plasters her chair. Hyewon smiles and gestures for you to get both of y'all's clothes. while the two of you get dressed Hyewon says.

"I guess now you can officially say "HR has fucked me" like everyone else does" You laugh at Hyewon's terrible joke before going back to her place for the night.

[linddzz]

Latest idea floating around in my head: a twist on the Hob saving Morpheus from the time-out ball, except that's where they first met each other.

Hob's still immortal, it's just that Death was the one who came and gave him the deal of meeting every 100 years

(is this also bc I'd love Death being Hob's centennial buddy? Her being way less reserved and straight up telling him who she is. Her delight at his delighting over life. The rage in him when Eleanor and Robyn die. Death took them and she wouldn't even say anything to him when she did it. Also I'd like to see him just immediately choke and squirm like a bastard as soon as he starts explaining his new shipping business to her in 1789. Yes and hell yes gimme Hobsie and Death as bros.)

So Hob is trying out new stuff again. He's never tried out being a magus and gets himself in as a member of Burgess' order and eventually an acolyte.

And then he's introduced to the "devil" that Burgess keeps in the dungeon. He's to help study up on strengthening the wards around the sphere and all that. And boy is he deeply, super uncomfortable with the sight of this frail man trapped in a cage.

("Don't let his pretty face fool you." Burgess will tell him, "the thing is a demon who would destroy us all if given half a chance."

To be fair, Morpheus does not help his case at all and his expression clearly says "you fuckin bet I will")

And Hob is Hob. So while he's working on studying up on wards (which so happens to involve a lot of careful, detailed study of the wards around the sphere) he's chatting at the thing in it. He complains about the boss, talks about the War, tells the demon about his day while the demon either glares at him or makes a hilariously big show of not paying attention. Sometimes Hob straight up shirks work (with a winking "you won't tell the boss right?") And just reads books.

And he nearly shrieks in surprise when he's reading some new novel called The Hobbit out loud and looks up to find the demon watching and obviously interested. So of course Hob is gonna keep reading him stories and keep studying those binding spells super closely.

And ok that's where I gotta admit the story doesn't have a solid conclusion in my head yet (besides obviously Hob is gonna bust Dream out and then get kissed a LOT) but I do have one bit where Morpheus first talks to him and of course it's just cryptic weird shit. Because Morpheus has started watching this shit-wizard who won't shut the fuck up back and can tell that something is OFF about him.

So just imagine Hob is yammering away about how he thinks the masters kid and the gardener have something going on, and he nearly shits himself when the "demon" presses a hand against the glass and says

"Death has touched you. I see it now. My siblings marks upon you. Is that what you are here for? To report to them? To let them see how low their family has come? So they do know what has come of me then, and they have sent you to chatter away and truly make it clear that they will do nothing."

Hob's just like. "WHAT?? SIBLINGS?! You TALK??! Hang on you know Death???!" But Morpheus already is back to curling in on himself in a furious pissy sulk

[fatbellyboysstuff]

I've seen many feedees write about how theyd love to be able to not work and just laze around, being spoiled like princesses/princes. and as much as I love this for them (I hope you get to live that dream someday!!) I can't really relate because I actually love my job/going to work! so here are some fantasies and thoughts for those of us who want to keep working:

getting fast food breakfast at a drive through on your way to work everyday

your feeder packing you a big lunch everyday

your uniform becoming tighter and tighter, having to ask for a size up constantly until your boss tells you they don't have larger sizes

eating so much lunch it'd have been enough for three of your coworkers and then trying to secretly rub your aching gut at your desk

having a snack drawer in your desk, snacking mindlessly while working, easily getting an extra 1000 kcal in every day

your ever fattening belly starting to push into the desk, your chair digging into your love handles more and more

your coworker bringing in cake on their birthday and giving you two pieces without you even asking

everyone around you talking about their newest fad diet while you are so proud of reaching your latest gaining goal

noticing your new fat getting in the way more and more, no matter what you do.

getting home all tired after being on your feet all day, your feeder waiting for you with a large home cooked meal. stuffing your gut til you feel like you're going to burst, leaving you still bloated the next morning

spending your days off just laying around, eating and eating and eating, your work clothes ever so slightly smaller on your next work day

your boss reassigning you to different tasks that are less physically demanding, making you burn less calories and growing fatter even faster

feeling yourself getting distracted from your work more often because of all the new softness on your body

being so aware of your size all the time, feeling your body jiggle with the slightest movement, getting more confident the more you grow

just some things I keep on thinking about, if you have more, feel free to add some! 🥰🤤

[bolllywoodhungama]

Salman Khan is filming a promo for Raftaar and bringing the Bigg Boss magic to OTT: Report

Fans of the popular reality show Bigg Boss have something to cheer about as Salman Khan gears up to host Bigg Boss OTT season 2. Following the conclusion of Bigg Boss 16 in February, viewers have been eagerly awaiting the return of the daily drama that the show brings. After Karan Johar hosted the first season of Bigg Boss OTT, which saw Divya Agarwal emerge as the winner, Salman Khan is all set to take the reins for the upcoming season.

The combination of Salman Khan's hosting prowess and the popularity of Bigg Boss is expected to create a buzz among viewers. The digital format of the reality show allows for an even more immersive and interactive experience, keeping audiences engaged and entertained throughout the season.

Click here to know more.

[growingstories]

Male model

Male model Darren had always dreamed of walking the runways of big fashion shows in Italy and Paris, showcasing the latest designs from top designers. And his dream came true. Darren was known for his chiseled features, sharp jawline, and perfectly toned physique. He was the epitome of what the fashion industry considered the ideal male body. However, everything changed when the world was hit by the devastating COVID-19 pandemic.

As the first four weeks of lockdown began, Darren found himself confined to his home. With no photoshoots or fashion shows to attend, he started to spend most of his time indulging in comfort foods. The lack of physical activity and the stress of the situation caused him to gain weight rapidly.

Weeks went by, and Darren found himself down on his luck. His once slender body was now a bit plumper, and his modeling career was suffering. But fate had something different in store for him. A fast-food chain, Big Burger, impressed by his unique transformation, decided to approach Darren. They wanted him to be the face of their brand, capitalizing on his relatability to the general public. The offer was tempting, promising a hefty paycheck and a chance to regain his popularity.

Darren, despite his reservations, decided to take the offer. He thought that once the campaign was over, he could go back to his old life and lose the extra weight. Little did he know that this decision would gradually change the course of his life. In an attempt to shed off some excess weight, Darren embarked on a weight loss journey. With the help of a personal trainer and nutritionist, he managed to lose 5kg. However, just as he was beginning to see progress, his manager had other plans for him.

Another campaign for Big Burger, this time promoting their new burger known as "The Big Burger," was on the horizon. The company insisted that Darren put on more weight to portray their idea of the perfect consumer. Reluctantly, he agreed, knowing that it would mean sacrificing his own happiness for financial gain.

Also other food companies started sending him an array of mouth-watering treats and samples to promote on his social media channels. Darren found himself overwhelmed by the constant influx of food while struggling to maintain his weight and image. Nevertheless, his manager saw this as an opportunity and suggested that Darren start a podcast reviewing food products around the world.

As his career skyrocketed, Darren's weight ballooned. His previous model clients refused to book him for their campaigns, citing his size as the main reason. Deeply frustrated, Darren began to long for the glamour and success he once had. He confided in his manager, expressing his desire to lose weight and get back in shape.

Sympathetic to Darren's concerns, his manager arranged a deal with a reputable gym to help him shed the excess weight. However, just as he was getting ready to embark on his journey, Big Burger offered him an enticing three-year contract. They promised him stability, incredible earnings, and fame, but the condition was that he couldn't lose weight. Struck by the allure of financial security, Darren reluctantly accepted the offer, believing that he would be able to lose weight once the contract was over. Month by month, he had photoshoots for new products, made social media posts, and received an abundance of food and meals sent directly to his doorstep.

His fame grew, not as a fashion model but as the food reviewer he unintentionally became. The money kept rolling in, but Darren grew increasingly unhappy with his appearance. He was kut of breath fast and tying his shoes became a workout at itself. He decided to secretly visit the gym and after only a few weeks he lost 10kg.

During his next photoshoot, the photographer was surprised by Darren's leaner appearence. The pictures turned out to be fantastic, but just as he was basking in his success, he received a call from the big boss of Big Burger. The boss warned Darren that if he continued losing weight, his contract would be terminated. In an attempt to fail his weightloss regime, a big box of sweet snacks arrived at his doorstep, accompanied by a note expressing apologies for their strictness.

While guilt washed over him during his indulgence in the snacks, Darren found solace in the gym. He focused solely on building muscle without engaging in any cardio exercises. The boss's presents continued for weeks, and as a result, his muscles popped, and his belly grew once again.

Instead of feeling dejected, Darren grew happier with his newfound bulkiness. He decided to embrace his weight and the attention he received at the gym from other big men who admired his strength. Every few days, he received surprises from Big Burger and other food chains, all expressing their happiness and love for him.

Months turned into years, and Darren became unrecognizable. With his size constantly increasing, his bank account overflowed with money, but he was no longer content with his appearance. He missed the glamour of his past life and the feeling of confidence that being fit and healthy had brought him.

Darren felt a mix of guilt and determination as he stared at the feast before him. He decided to channel his guilt into motivation, guilt for enjoying the snacks to the fullest but not giving up on his fitness journey. He immediately went to the gym and worked out without any cardio, craving the unity of his mind and body. This cycle continued for two weeks. His muscles bulked up, and his belly expanded as he consumed all the snacks provided by Big Burger. He received unwavering support from his followers and fans on social media, celebrating his transformation in every post.

Embracing his new body, Darren made a life-altering decision. He chose to let go of social standards and expectations and embraced his weight. With every passing day, he became more confident and happy in his frame.

Surprises from Big Burger, along with other food companies, kept flooding in. They admired Darren's loyalty and dedication to their brand, constantly sending him food and treats. His fame solidified not only as a male model turned food reviewer but also as a symbol of unabashed self-acceptance.

With every passing day, Darren's fame and bank account grew, but it was his inner happiness that truly bloomed. He had discovered that being comfortable in his own skin was worth more than any fashion show or modeling contract.

[rangpurcity]

Bigg Boss 16: New controversy arose in the house, Abdu Rojik's management team came into action, issued a statement

Bigg Boss 16: New controversy arose in the house, Abdu Rojik’s management team came into action, issued a statement

Actually, this whole matter started from the birthday of Abdu Rojik’s best friend Nimrit Kaur Ahluwalia in the show, about which many things and statements are coming out on social media. (Photo courtesy: Instagram @abdu_rozik) #Bigg #Boss #controversy #arose #house #Abdu #Rojiks #management #team #action #issued #statement

[thefrogdalorian]

Candles

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Even though Din insists he doesn't want you to make a fuss over his birthday, you cannot resist spoiling him in your own special way. Although your perfect day does not go entirely to plan, you are determined to make the best of it...

Word Count:  3.8k ✯ Rating: Teen ✯ Content Warnings: A few suggestive lines, mentions of grief/mourning parents. Other than that, pure fluff! ✯ Author's Note: Thank you @decembermidnight for betaing this one, I always appreciate your help! Since we don't know Din's canonical birthday I thought May the Fourth was a good excuse to celebrate... but you get it on Revenge of the Fifth instead! ☺︎ I saw a post from someone (can't remember who) that said Din has holes in his socks, it's a hc I hold dear and was fun to explore in this fic!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Din Djarin does not delight in being doted upon. You know this with as much certainty as two suns rise over Tatooine. 

Yet, you cannot resist your urge to spoil him on the one day of the year that is truly his.

Din's reluctance to be spoiled is precisely why you rose before dawn, pottering around the modest galley, gathering the ingredients necessary to bake a cake. You hope that even though Din is ordinarily a light sleeper, the energy he exerted in passion the previous evening will have sufficiently tired him out so that he sleeps in, for once. 

After all, he does so much for you and the big-eared, bug-eyed baby boy you both vowed to raise as a Mandalorian warrior in the small cabin you share on Nevarro. Baking him a cake is the least you can do.

Preparing a cake to celebrate his birthday is not the only thing you have in mind. Even though Din already declared that the greatest gift of all is your love, you could not resist spending a few credits to treat him to a small gift. The thought of surprising him with it causes a knot of anxiety in your stomach, but you try to suppress those fears as you begin weighing out the ingredients.

You focus too on the beautiful sentiment Din expressed to you, how deeply he treasures your love. Such words are a far cry from the hardened, battle-weary warrior you had first encountered on Coruscant. Din reported to your boss, Carson Teva, for his latest missions from the New Republic. The first meeting in that office had left you curious, if a little intimidated, by the hulking Mandalorian who towered over you as you quietly worked at your desk.

Din extended a gloved hand to you at the end of your all-too-brief conversation. When you took it and shook it, marvelling at the softness of the leather and how his hand engulfed yours, you were sure that you had felt a spark. You wondered whether you detected a hint of longing in his lingering touch. Whether he, too, had felt a tingle across his skin as your hands touched.

Almost an entire cycle later, you had your answer.

You smile when you think back to those early days. How Din's visits became more frequent and led to longer and more personal conversations. Your chats became less concerned with threats that plagued the galaxy. Eventually, they continued outside the parameters of the depressing New Republic office building where you once worked. 

Life with Din was everything you had yearned for and more. A boring bureaucratic desk job was never your desired lot in life. Din had opened up an entire galaxy of possibilities for you. He had brought you to Nevarro and given you the life you had always wanted but never expected for yourself.

All things considered, making a special effort for his birthday is the least you can do to attempt to repay the enormous debt of gratitude you owe to Din. A debt you are certain you will never truly manage to clear but are determined to try anyway.

So, rather than spending the first moments of light of Din’s birthday cuddling with him... instead, you find yourself hunched over the kitchen counters as pale orange light streams in from across the lava flats.

You hum quietly to yourself while you mix the carefully weighed-out ingredients, careful not to wake Din. Pouring the batter into the tins is a rather precarious manoeuvre and you are careful not to waste a single drop of the mixture. 

With the cakes finally baking in the Nanowave, you turn your attention to the mountain of pots before you. Upon seeing it, you wish Din was a little more flexible on his no-droids policy. Or that Grogu was awake. 

The kid has been known to use his powers to aid his parents with domestic chores from time to time, particularly if you allow him to sneakily eat a frog from his pond without his father noticing. 

Unfortunately, there is to be no help. If you want to keep the secret cake under wraps until you present it to Din later, you must get stuck into washing up.

You make good progress, carefully scrubbing away the remnants of batter with a soapy rag. So consumed are you by your diligent cleaning of each pot and utensil that you do not hear familiar footsteps as they echo across the hard kitchen floor.

You let out a yelp of surprise into the stillness of the early morning when a familiar pair of long arms wrap around your waist and a chin rests upon your shoulder.

“Good morning, ner riduur,” Din rasps as he softly kisses the side of your neck.

His voice is rough and gravelly with sleep, even deeper than usual. You gasp as he presses himself into you. It seems that Din has sufficiently recovered from the exhausting activities which kept you awake for most of the night. Until dawn was far closer than you had intended, given how early you knew you had to be awake to bake his cake.

For a moment, it is enough to make you forget the task at hand. 

Then you remember with a jolt why you are in the kitchen at such an early hour. You spin around in Din's embrace and vocalise your disapproval. 

“Din! It's far too early. Go back to bed!” you plead, keen for him to leave immediately.

Din responds by tightening his grip on your waist and continuing to press hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. It takes all of your strength to push him away.

"Please, Din," you whine, staring into his eyes, “I'll join you soon.”

Din sighs and then nods slowly, “Don't be too long, I'll be lonely...”

You exhale deeply as he turns to leave, pleased that Din is none the wiser about the surprise sweet treat. 

Unfortunately, the Nanowave has other plans. The characteristic ding lets you know that the cake is ready. Before you can respond, Din is over there in a shot. For the first time, you notice that he is wearing nothing except a pair of loose-fitting cotton shorts. His toned physique bared to you, muscles straining under his scarred skin as he leans over to take the cake out of the Nanowave. 

Din spins around with the cake cradled in his hands, the tin covered in a towel to protect his hands. He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly confused at what you have been making.

“Surprise!” you halfheartedly exclaim, with a nervous chuckle, “Well, it was meant to be a surprise at least…” 

“Ner kar’ta, you shouldn’t have,” Din whispers, with no true sense of disapproval in his tone. His brown eyes are glassy as he smiles at you with such tenderness that you feel your chest tighten.

Din asked you not to make a fuss over his birthday. But you can tell he is deeply touched by the gesture. The emotion on his face is almost enough to distract you from the fact that your riduur is barely clothed, practically glowing in the soft golden light which brings the promise of a new day. 

Almost.

All frustration and disappointment vanished at the sight of him before you. Din is always stunning, but in dawn's soft, golden light, you are convinced he is the most breathtaking sight in the entire galaxy.

You take the cake from his hands and gently set it on the kitchen counter to cool. Although Din has seen the cake, he has no idea of the decoration you intend to adorn it with. Later. You can finish the cake later.

For now, those honey-flecked brown eyes and the expanse of golden skin on display are far too irresistible. You pad across the kitchen and wrap your arms around Din’s neck, pressing your lips against his. It is a show of intent. You groan in delight when he cups your cheeks with his large hands and deepens the kiss, tenderly stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. 

Icing the cake can wait. For now, there is something far more mouthwatering to occupy your time...

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Fortunately, you and Din slipped some clothes on before you drifted off after exhausting yourselves with your early morning lovemaking. So, when Grogu uses the Force to leap onto your entwined forms a few hours later after the golden light has turned to something paler and more indicative of mid-morning, he is saved from a scandalous sight. 

“Good morning, ad’ika,” Din coos, grinning widely in an expression which makes his eyes light up despite the sleepiness there.

Grogu chirps in response. His familiar baby babble is still only way he communicates with you and Din. Din nods and presses his forehead to his boy. Your heart soars as you watch the two of them interact. 

You wonder how Din understands him. You love Grogu; bonding with him was effortless. But their bond is something special, something which goes beyond words, a bond which you feel truly privileged to witness. Grogu saved Din in so many ways and made him into the man who is so easy for you to love today. 

“Why don’t you two get up and make something to eat?” you ask, yawning and stretching as you come around after the rude awakening.

“No special birthday breakfast for me?” Din asks, feigning incredulity.

“I thought you didn't want me to make a fuss?” you giggle, then add with a hint of seriousness, “I would never deprive you of a lazy morning of making flatcakes with your son.”

Din’s eyes flash with sentimentality and he leans over to kiss you again. Then, he rises from the bunk, chatting away to Grogu as he goes. You smile in their wake, so proud of your little Clan. 

You had an ulterior motive for suggesting Din and Grogu prepare something to eat, unrelated to your reluctance to find yourself in the kitchen again given the considerable time you already spent there this morning. While Din and Grogu go to make breakfast, it gives you the perfect opportunity to finish wrapping Din’s present.

Even though he said there was nothing you could buy for him, you still wanted to treat Din to something that would truly be his own. Much of his disposable income and free time is spent making your and Grogu's lives easier. Although you know acts of service are his love language, the thought that he would not have any gifts to open for his birthday is unacceptable to you. 

Mercifully, you had settled upon a present with surprising ease. You knew that Din needed nothing more than he already had to be satisfied, so the prospect of finding something small yet meaningful had seemed slightly daunting. 

Fortunately, the weekly artisan market on Nevarro came to your rescue. 

Din is meticulous in polishing and maintaining every part of his armour, especially the parts visible to the admiring eyes of others. Din does not neglect a single part of it. 

There is one piece of his everyday attire, however, which was noticeably shoddy compared to the rest of his beskar brilliance—his socks. 

They were threadbare and riddled with holes. A fact you had pointed out to Din numerous times, but the stubborn man still refused to have them darned. 

So, when you saw the deep red, thick socks at the weekly market on Nevarro, you knew they would be perfect, to the extent that you had purchased two pairs. 

You are sure that Din will appreciate them and not take umbrage with the gesture, that he will realise you are doing it for his comfort. Still, your hands tremble as you wrap the socks up in brightly coloured paper. You hope that the socks are as well-received as you have imagined they will be.

When Din calls to let you know that breakfast is ready, you stash the wrapped socks beneath the covers on your bunk and eagerly make your way to join them. 

Although you try to be present and enjoy the simple domesticity of breakfast with them, your mind is preoccupied with worries about whether the gift will be appreciated. The worry does not dissipate, remaining a leaden weight in your gut.

After finishing the flatcakes, you insist on cleaning up since it’s Din’s birthday. Even though you have done far more washing up than you intended, having some alone time while Din takes Grogu outside to his favourite pond gives you time to think.

You had planned to give Din the socks after you returned from a planned walk across the lava flats. But when Din and Grogu return to the cabin and are eager to leave for the walk, you can wait no longer. You want to enjoy this time with them, rather than being preoccupied with worries over how your gift will be received.

Din and Grogu hover by the entryway, clearly buzzing with anticipation for the walk. You are relieved that Din had not yet placed his helmet on, cradling it under his arm. The days when he wore it constantly feel so long ago; like they are from another age. Over the time you have known him, you have seen far more of his brown eyes than that dark T-visor. Yet, he still wears it whenever you leave the cabin. 

“Just need to use the ‘fresher,” you insist, excusing yourself.

“Alright,” Din nods. 

Instead of heading to the ‘fresher however, you scoop up the presents from underneath the covers on your bunk, taking deep breaths to compose yourself as you head back towards them. 

Din looks over at you curiously, shaking his head as he attempts to repress a smile when he sees the gift. You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that he appears to be excited by the prospect of a present. 

“I know you said no gifts, but these are practical, I promise,” you vow.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Din says sternly, his eyes darkened like they do when he scolds Grogu before his entire expression softens and you feel instant relief. He adds affectionately, “But thank you, ner kar'ta. You are too good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you smile, leaning in to kiss Din on his stubbled cheek. 

Din nods and then tears into the brightly coloured paper. You wait with bated breath, anxious to see his response. For a terrible moment, he does not move. Then, your heart aches as his face drops. Din scowls at them, clearly unimpressed.

You open your mouth to apologise before Din plasters a grin across his face, a smile that does not quite reach his eyes and addresses you.

“Thank you, ner riduur,” Din smiles weakly, “Let me go and put them on right away.”

“Okay, Din,” you reply, your tone unsure.

Din hands Grogu to you and disappears off into your quarters. Grogu tilts his head to one side as though he is appraising the situation.

When Din is not quick to return, your concern is immediate. He had been itching to get out on the walk. Now that he is taking his time to put the socks on, you are certain something is wrong. Fear and guilt settle in the pit of your stomach.

“I don’t think he liked them,” you murmur, searching Grogu’s large eyes for answers.

Grogu nods slowly. 

You take another steadying breath in preparation to assess the situation. Despite your trepidation, you head down the hallway towards your quarters. The thought of Din being unhappy for even a second on his birthday unsettles you, especially if you were the cause of such an unwelcome emotion. 

When you make it to your room, the hulking silhouette of a Mandalorian warrior, with his broad shoulders slumped over in anguish greets you. The guilt is instant. You hover in the entryway for a few moments, cradling Grogu and pondering your next move.

“Din, did I offend you with the gifts?” you finally question as you set Grogu down on the bunk. 

Din sighs and shakes his head, turning to face you. The happy expression of this morning has been replaced with one of anguish. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” you feebly murmur.

Din’s eyes widen in horror as he stands up from the edge of the bunk, instantly closing the distance between you and reaching out to hold your upper arms in his large hands. 

“No, never,” he promises, brown eyes darkened with sincerity.

You nod, shooting him a sceptical look.

“They, uh…” Din closes his eyes and sighs, clearly struggling with something, “They just remind me of something…”

You look at him, still confused by his evasiveness. You weren’t sure what such a simple pair of deep red socks could have done to disturb him so deeply.

Din opens his eyes, “Of somewhere,” he clarifies before he shuts them again.

He pauses for a few more seconds and you stand there unmoving, barely daring to breathe.

“The colour reminds me of the robes we wore on the planet of my birth.”

You swallow the lump which has abruptly formed in your throat, nodding at him to indicate you understand. He does not have to elaborate, to go back there if he does not want to.

“Okay, Din,” you say gently, wrapping your arms around his waist and bringing his head into your chest, “I can exchange them for a different colour.”

Din shakes his head, “No, I love them. It was just…” he sucks in a deep breath, voice quivering slightly as he adds, “A surprise. I try to avoid that colour at all costs.”

You think back to why you had been drawn to the socks. Perhaps your subconscious picked up on the fact you had never seen him with anything of that colour and wanted him to try something new. 

“They feel incredibly warm, the material is so soft. Thank you, it was very thoughtful of you,” Din smiles weakly. 

You can tell that something is still troubling him, so you boldly ask, “Do you think of them on your birthday?”

Din seems taken aback by your question but nods. 

“Before I met Grogu and you, when my heart was hardened and I rarely allowed affection in, my birthday was the one day of the year I would allow my mind to wander back there,” Din admits, “To think of them, of the life we could have had. Now I realise, of course, that if I stayed on Aq Vetina, I would never have met Grogu. Or you.”

Din addresses his son now, scooping him up and cuddling him tightly, “You are the best things that ever happened to me.” 

You feel overwhelmed with emotion as you look at them. Din presses his forehead to Grogu's for a few seconds, closing his eyes and relishing the contact.

Din opens his eyes and meets your gaze, “I have to let that place go. It’s not my home anymore. Not even this cabin is home,” Din muses.

You look at him quizzically, not following his train of thought. 

“Home isn’t a place for me,” Din whispers, “It’s a feeling. It’s the way you and Grogu love me.”

You are floored by the sentiment. That this once stoic warrior has such tenderness to him still amazes you.

“Oh, Din,” you whisper, cupping his cheek as you press your forehead to his.

Your arms encircle his waist. He brings you close with one hand and you know that he is drawing comfort from embracing you and Grogu like this. When you finally lean your head back, you detect a certain tiredness in those brown eyes you love so much.

“Why don’t you get some rest, honey?” you question, “Grogu can join too. It’s been a long, emotional day already and I want you to enjoy the rest of your birthday.”

Thankfully, Din does not fight you, conceding that he needs rest. When he climbs under the covers, you drop a tender kiss on both of their foreheads and turn to leave.

Before you leave the room, soft, even breaths indicate that they have already fallen asleep. The sight of Grogu’s tiny head on Din’s chest as they nap together makes your heart swell.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The cabin is bathed in golden light once again, this time after the sun has set. The three of you sit in contented, companionable silence as you appreciate the full feeling after a good meal.

You utilised Din and Grogu’s nap to ice the cake and prepare a special dinner consisting of Tiingilar, a traditional Mandalorian dish. Despite your apprehensiveness at perfecting the recipe, Din approved of your attempt.

As you sit there, you contemplate suggesting another nap. Consuming a sizable quantity of rich food always leaves a certain tiredness. 

But there is still one important duty yet to be carried out.

While Din is somewhat distracted talking to Grogu, you quietly excuse yourself and stealthily prepare dessert.

Your fingers tremble as they did when you wrapped the presents as you light the candles. You head towards the table on shaky legs. You begin singing the traditional birthday song with accompaniment from Grogu, who tries his best to join in with various chirps. 

Din grins as he watches you. You notice with relief that the spark in his eyes has returned. When you finish the song, you place the cake before him on the table.

“Blow them out!” you encourage.

Din nods and leans forward to extinguish the candles after savouring the moment a few beats longer. 

The excited expression on Din’s face is soon made bittersweet, “I’ve never blown out my own candles before,” he admits.

“There’s a first time for everything,” you whisper, touched by the years of agony which lie behind those words.

You are grateful that shovelling the sweet dessert into your mouth gives you an excuse not to speak as you are unsure how to move on from such an admission. Din has been through so much. Yet, he is still one of the kindest, gentlest men you have ever met. You want to give him all the experiences the galaxy has to offer. To make up for all of the years of hurt. 

“Thank you for the cake, it was delicious,” Din appreciatively says after he swallows his last bite. 

“You’re welcome,” you smile, “I think Grogu enjoyed it, too.”

You nod over at your mischievous son, who has more of the bright blue icing smeared around his face and tunic than ended up in his mouth.

Din smiles as he places the plate back on the table before you. He rubs his belly contentedly and adds, “Thank you for making this my best birthday yet.”

“Of course, Din,” you shrug, “You deserve it.”

You are already planning ways to make next year even better.

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Unwanted: Chapter 24, Undercover - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, exotic dancing, underage drug use, implications of human trafficking, poorly translated Russian

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: You returned back to the safehouse. Sam told you Bucky's been trying to avoid Cunthrage, but you're done caring.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I love Dimitri. <3

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Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You spent the next few days in one of two ways: your work hours trying to find out as much about Kozlov’s silent partners as possible, and your off time looking for someone to fuck the memory of Bucky right out of you.

You were coming up empty on the former, and even worse on the latter. It didn’t seem to matter how many guys you found to put their dicks in you; none of them did what Bucky could do to your body. You’d at least learned from your mistake with Bad Decision #1 and had gone out and bought a large pack of condoms. You weren’t going to run any more risks in that department. 

As you entered the floor for the start of your next shift, Henchman #2– Dimitri– you reminded yourself, approached you. 

“Cherry, yes?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Boss vants you to dance in his private lounge tonight,” he said, gently herding you in the direction of Kozlov’s suite of rooms.

“Okay,” you said hesitantly. “Is there a private party, or…” You left the thought hanging, hoping Dimitiri would fill the silence.

Bless his heart, the idiot did. He leaned down to whisper conspiratorially as you walked together. “Zer is big boss with Kozlov tonight,” he told you, and your heart nearly stopped. You couldn’t believe your luck. “He vishes to see ze best talent, and Kozlov ask for you special.” Your eyes glanced down to your bangle. Were they about to try and make you their latest offering for the auction block?

“Big boss?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “But I thought Kozlov owned the club. How can he have a boss if he is the boss?”

You’d stopped now in front of the doors to Kozlov’s rooms.

Dimitiri laughed, as though you were just a silly girl who couldn’t possibly understand how the world worked. “Kozlov owns Viggle Room, yes. Dis iz true. But big boss is from large group zat funds club. Very secret group. Very scary.” He raised his hands like monster claws and laughed. “Kozlov calls zem– how do you say? Gidra.” Hydra.

You gasped, and Dimitri mistook your surprise for fear.

“Oh, not to worry, little dove! I zink zis group not so scary as zey pretend to be. Gidra all talk.” He held up his hand like a puppet. “All ze time, Gidra is ‘blah, blah, blah,’ yes? No action.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping you weren’t pressing your luck with your question.

“Zer is somezing Gidra iz looking for. Zey vant it very bad. Very, very bad. Zey look for long time, yes? But never find. Dimitri think, Gidra cannot be good at job if ze cannot find zis zing zey are to be looking for, no?”

“Well, what are they looking for? Maybe I’ve seen it.” Yeah, you were laying it on a little thick now, but you wanted to keep the man talking to see what other nuggets of intel he was willing to drop in your lap.

“Aw, little dove iz very sweet to ask. But Dimitri doez not know vhat zis important zing iz. Kozlov never say.” “That doesn’t seem very nice of him,” you said, hedging on a bet to gain move of the man’s confidence. “You’ve always seemed like a very good employee for Mr. Kozlov. Very loyal, very brave. He should reward you by trusting you more.”

Dimitri’s chest puffed up a bit at your words. “Little dove is kind. Dimitri iz not worried. Kozlov will tell if Dimitri must know.”

Well, that failed.

Dimitri knocked on the door, and after a moment, Kozlov answered, shirt half unbuttoned and nose already red from having snorted something. Wonderful, you thought. This’ll be great.

“Cherry Pie, boss,” Dimitri said, presenting you to Kozlov. The look the club owner gave you as he eyed you up and down was downright lecherous and you had to suppress the way it made your skin crawl.

“Ah, ze little dove, at last!” Kozlov exclaimed, throwing the door open wider. You glanced over his shoulder and could see a few other men, among them six or seven of Kozlov’s top girls in various states of undress. “Come, come,” he motioned you inside. “I have friendz I vish you to meet!”

If you had been expecting Kozlov to walk you up to each man and introduce them by name, you were sorely mistaken. Instead, he put his hands on your shoulder and addressed them as if you were an inanimate object.

“Gentlemen, I present our Cherry Pie! She haz only been vith us a short time, but she haz proved very popular, and has much talent. Show them vhat you do, little dove.”

He smacked your ass, your cue to begin your dance. You tried to keep your focus on the men’s conversation as you gyrated to the music, but one of the other girls danced her way over to you and tried striking up a conversation.

“Hi! I’m Chloe! I hope you don’t mind; I watched some of your sets. You’re such a good dancer!” You smiled in her direction, not wanting to take your concentration from the men, who seemed to be comparing the girls against one another. 

“How long have you been in the business,” the girl– Chloe– asked you.

“A while,” you murmured

“No wonder you’re so good, then!” She smiled brightly as she bent over and shook her ass. “You’ve had time to practice. I just started. My stepdad set me up at this place. I guess he used to play cards with Mr. Kozlov? That’s how he knew the club needed more dancers.”

That caught your attention and you froze momentarily. “How old are you?” you asked her. You turned to really look at her. God. She could have been you fifteen years ago.

Chloe leaned in close and whispered in your ear. “Eighteen,” she said with a giggle– you didn’t believe her for a minute, “but my stepdad said if anyone asks, I’m supposed to tell them I’m twenty-one”

Your stomach turned, and you felt for a moment like you might be sick. “Why aren’t you in school?” you asked her, trying to keep the sudden tremble out of your voice. 

Chloe shrugged as she turned in a seductive circle. “My stepdad says we need money more than I need school right now. He said once we’re back on our feet, I can go back.”

“What about your mom? What does she say? She can’t agree with that.”

Chloe’s face fell, and the churning sensation in your stomach intensified. “She’s sick.” Her voice was so soft now you had to strain to hear it. 

Your breathing began coming faster, your pulse picking up. This was wrong. “You shouldn’t be here, Chloe,” you whispered to her, desperation in your voice.

Chloe frowned and paused her dancing. “I know I’m not as good as you, but I’m a fast learner. I’ll get better.”

“No,” you interjected quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I mean you shouldn’t be in this club, you shouldn’t be a fucking stripper. You’re just a kid. You should be in school, getting an education, not shaking your ass for some scumbag stepfather.”

A heavy crease appeared between Chloe’s brows. “He’s not a scumbag,” she countered. “He works hard, but the money’s just never enough. Mom’s medicine is expensive, and we don’t have insurance.”

“Then he should have gotten you a job at McDonald’s or something, not making you show strange men your tits for money!” you hissed. 

Chloe took a step away from you. “You’re not better than me,” she said, and you could hear the hurt in her voice.

“I never said I was,” you began.

“Ladies!” Kozlov called, interrupting you and drawing the girls’ attention back to where the men were sitting, “come, it iz time to share some party favors!” 

On the table were lines of coke, one prepared for each dancer. “Who vill go first?” Kozlov asked with a grin.

Chloe stepped forward, casting you a cold glance. 

“Ah, Chloe! Come, come, love.” You wanted to scream, to swipe your hand across the table and send the white powder flying across the room, but it was vital you maintain your cover. You didn’t have nearly enough information to risk blowing it over some, well, blow.

The men murmured appreciatively as Chloe bent over, making sure to point her ass in their direction, as she snorted the line up her nose. It was obvious by the ease in which she did it, with no hesitation, that this was not her first time. You closed your eyes.

One by one, the other girls stepped forward to do their lines. You noticed how the men murmured amongst themselves as each girl stepped up, as if they were judging them. And then it hit you.

This was a test. 

They were determining how well you each followed orders, how much resistance you would put up. You watched as some of the girls sniffled and sneezed as they inhaled; these were the girls who made the men seem happiest– you knew they were pleased to see a girl who apparently had never done coke before willingly do so just because a man told her to. They were judging your submissiveness.

Finally, there were only two of you left: you, and a redhead you knew went by Birdie. The poor girl looked terrified and was shaking her head. You stepped forward.

“Ah, little dove,” Kozlov cooed, “I vaz vondering vhen you vould come play.” You took a deep breath to steel your nerves, bent down, and snorted the two remaining lines yourself.

You felt the rush hit you almost immediately. “Oops,” you giggled, “sorry, Birdie. I guess I got a little greedy.” There was no mistaking the gratitude in the other girl’s eyes– it was obvious to her that you had snorted the second line so that she wouldn’t have to. 

You could already feel your heart begin to race, and for a moment, you almost felt like you had two heartbeats. Kozlov came up behind you and wrapped a lanky arm around your waist. 

“Naughty, naughty, little dove,” he smirked at you. “I vill have to punish you later,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver of repulsion throughout your body, which Kozlov must have taken for anticipation, because he pressed his hips into your back, and you could feel his erection press against you. 

From there, your memories of the night became hazy. You had brief flashes of awareness– grinding against one of the visiting men– kissing another dancer– Kozlov’s hands all over your body. You knew the situation was not ideal, that Sam would be furious with you. Hell, you knew you could potentially jeopardize the entire mission, but in the moment, you realized that all the pain, all the anger and rage you’d been holding in because of Bucky– all that was just gone, as though it had blown away on the wind. And though a tiny voice in the back of your head was telling you you’d regret everything in the morning, for the moment, you were grateful.

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