#but the flip side to that is sometimes you will have the other teams number

[mattynmarns]

everyone is sad because the kraken lost to the sharks but I've just compartmentalized it. every team has their really bad team that they always lose to, the leafs have the sens and the habs and now the kraken have the sharks and the ducks. it keeps the universe in balance, all teams will defeat all other teams eventually rock paper scissors style. the hockey gods declared it or something idk

[daylighted]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤshield ! reader ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤpart one !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤBITTER REUNIONS.

summary soldier boy's first stop in his grand return is to collect his suit and his shield, only to find out just how different & bittersweet things have become in his absenceㅤㅤㅤwarnings feminine rage, discussions of trauma, hurt/hurt because there's no comfortㅤㅤㅤword count 2.5k

ㅤㅤㅤTHE FLATSCREEN TELEVISION SCREEN CRACKLES IN THE LEGEND'S LIVING ROOM SPACE. on it, a basketball game, two teams that you've never given a shit about, but it's what the legend likes to watch, and so you sit on the worn-out couch and do what you've always done: endure other people's shit, and bite the hand that feeds you.

you would think by now that he knows you better than this. that you pick a fight every single time he flips through the channels with the device he won't tell you the name of, lest you figure out how to access the internet and learn how to use it. that you have smashed three of his televisions in your time with him.

frederick vought warned the legend before he'd handed you over. his words were slurred, tired, defeated — but they were clear enough to still be used against you, repeated by many who encountered you.

she is a cruel one, that shield i've reconstructed.

cruel, indeed.

"i do not want to watch," you shout across the empty space, making a furious reach across the sofa to snatch the television stick off of the other side's abandoned cushion. the bell to the door rang ten minutes earlier, and the old man had yet to return.

you glare at the screen, as if you could will it to silence with nothing but your mind. impossible, of course; at least, you hadn't been successful yet. you hated the buzz of high pitched chatter in the televised crowd, the way it crawled into the crevices of your mind through the passages of your ears and nested.

a furious growl leaves your lips, and you rise to your feet, steps away from the bright screen. you are cruel, and everyone thinks so, but you have kindness tucked away in your rage, sometimes. the score is 120-88. you take note of it, shoving the numbers into your pocket, before you slam the remote into the screen.

the shards of glass that embed into your hand don't hurt. your lips twist into an irritated scowl at the sight of them, plucking out each piece and littering it on the hardwood floor. the remote is in pieces, too, crushed in the tight squeeze of your hand.

you release your grip, letting each piece crumble to the ground with loud thumps. fury crackles through you, acid burning in your bloodstream. it is unlike the man you've been stuck with to abandon you to your own devices for so long. it is also unlike him to force you to watch something you do not like in his absences.

you liked jersey shore, and the real housewives. you liked seeing girls like you get to live lives you'd never get to. it was therapeutic and gutwrenching all at once, and that only added to the fuel of your anger, crackling inside of you.

the walk you take down the lengthy hallway into the part of his home that you were strictly forbidden from was punctuated by the echo of your stomping feet. these were the parts of the house that the legend kept locked. the front entrance, the actual living room, and the man's own bedroom. all places that he deemed his, and all places with quick access to the public, meaning exits.

it was not a laboratory. but it was not a home, either.

your fist slams on the wood of the door, right into the indent of it that you'd already created. this was not the first time that you'd broken down this door. it wouldn't be the last, with how many secrets he kept locked away from you, and how much of the world you were forbidden to see.

"open the door, legend, or i'm going to pummel your fucking skull—"

"enough of that." his voice is muffled when it cuts through your threats, close enough that he sounds like he is right on the other side of the wood. you slam your fist into it again, hard enough for the wood to splinter in the center of your indentation. "enough, indy. i'm comin' back."

"you left the fucking game on." you throw your hand backwards in gesture, even though he can't see it. that was easy enough to fix. you punch through the splintered wood, creating a fist shaped hole to the other side. "you know i hate watching men play games."

the legend is used to your antics by now, and so he doesn't flinch at the break. you see enough of his face to note the downward scowl, and the disappointment behind his dark glasses. "you don't much like the women playing them, either."

"because it is not fun." didn't he understand by now? you were a girl locked away, punished for being created and what you were shaped into. you did not get fun of your own, so you needed some kind of outlet to drown yourself into. it was no wonder that you were thought of as a monster. your only glimpses of the sunny skies were in the gaps of the legend's barred off windows. titanium, so it was not impossible for you to bend them, but it was not an easy feat.

he sighs through his nose, smoke curling around his face from the cigar in his fingers. "two minutes, indy." he holds up two fingers, as if he thought you could not fucking count or comprehend how long two minutes was. "that's all i need."

"who the fuck is in there?" another voice asks, deep and rough and familiar. so familiar. forty years was enough time to age someone — you knew this from how the legend looks now, compared to when he'd first had to take you in — and yet...

the legend's eyes dart over to the source of the voice at the same time as yours do. recognition comes in the form of a racing heartbeat. it builds, and crescendos, and suddenly you are shaking as you beat on the door again. "whoa, whoa, whoa—"

each time he got the door redone stronger. soon enough, he'd have a door made of titanium guarding his proper guests from the rest of his house, and from you.

no one could know about you, not when you were the makings of a sick imagination burrowed in an intelligent man's head.

that did not mean you didn't try. it was such a lonely life, locked away in a penthouse with a man that grew closer and closer to dying with each passing year, and no one knowing anything of what you'd become.

the anger flares, flames licking at the electric sparks in your veins. the door crumbles with one harsher hit, and you're standing in the space you're kept from. you've been here before, never permitted past this doorway, always whisked away before you can get a breath of fresh air.

"hi, sweetheart," soldier boy says, one corner of his mouth curled high in an arrogant smile. bold of him to still carry the same confidence he did back when you knew him, when now, he was in nothing but sweatpants and a zip-up jacket almost too small for his frame. his green eyes stay on you as he says over your shoulder, "she's young. can you even fuckin' keep up with her?"

your eyes flare. it's two steps to be in front of him, and the third is just for good measure, when you clock him in the chin. his head snaps backwards, surprise making him stumble backwards a step.

soldier boy rubs at the skin of his jaw, irritation as bright as your anger staring back at you. you know the calm he wears in his expression. it barely conceals a storm, brewing beneath the surface. you know it because you'd often been the weapon he chose in these moods of his. you know it because you adopted that ire yourself.

"that's enough." the legend steps over the broken pieces of his door, grimacing at the splinters littering the ground. "indy, enough."

you glance over your shoulder to eye the man's expression, trying to determine what he was feeling by look alone. he was not capable of hurting you, nothing was, but he knew how to weaponize words when you upset him, all of which only steeled your skin further.

there is not enough damage in the world you can inflict onto soldier boy to make up for the things he did with you. bashed skulls, took bullets, burnt her steel until she glowed vibrant orange. you expected him to be dead. you wanted him to have been dead, if only so you'd be spared from this moment. but you never got what you wanted. no jersey shore, no fresh air, and no freedom from soldier boy.

you raise your arm to deck him again, but his fingers close around your wrist tightly, tugging it harshly back down. his smirk says everything you need to know about how much he knows. he does not know that you've learned all of his weaknesses, and that he often left himself vulnerable in times when he thought he had the upperhand.

you yank him toward you in the same moment as you ream your knee straight into his cock.

soldier boy stutters on a groan, releasing his grip on you like you’d burnt him. you don’t relish in his pain, or the surprise that you could hurt him. it’s not enough.

the legend gives you the same disappointed look you’re used to getting from him, his head shaking in disapproval. “i locked the door for a reason.”

“you always say this.” you turn on your heel, jamming your finger into the center of his chest. you missed the days when he cowered under your anger and attitude, now it only seemed to exhaust him. “you always lock the door for a reason, and then it is just grace. you do not even let me see grace.”

“and look what happened the time you decided to break the rules.” the legend nods behind you, toward the man you do not turn to look at again. his footsteps are heavy as they approach. “this is what i keep you away from. the possibility of this.”

the urge to break every bone on the older man’s face is almost enough to overtake any rational thinking inside of you. he must see it, because he shakes his head again. “stand down.”

“where’s my suit?” soldier boy asks from behind you, and you still in place. he’s too close. every instinct of fight clicks into gear, the safety off as the bullets load up.

the legend nods down the hallway, in the direction of your space. you had so little that you could call your own. the bigger of the guest bedrooms was yours, shared only in the terms of the collectibles he kept in the expansive closet.

you knew soldier boy’s suit was in there. you could smell the tobacco and the whiskey from it, sometimes, from the safety of your bed. you sometimes could catch a whiff of cologne, on days where you let go of the mask that you were okay with being alone for the rest of your life. when you wished upon a star outside of your barred windows that just one person would find you again.

“you cannot go in there.” you are already starting down the hallway, eager to reach your room before any of them could.

all of your fury was gone. stand down was an order. a kill switch programmed into you to bury all of the tension that often broke free of your restraints. it was not safe, vought once said to you when you were a child, to have a girl who can’t break without a few weaknesses. a few. some of which you didn’t even know, but your mind did.

there wasn’t any electricity in your veins anymore, but there was bleeding desperation. no, they could not invade your space. it defeated the purpose of having it. it would force the legend to open the rooms he locked away from you, too, and you knew he wouldn’t ever. if you granted either of these men an inch, they’d take a mile, and crush you in the process.

“he needs his suit, indy.”

your nose twitches, fighting against the command still ringing in your head. you grit your teeth, jaw clenched tightly. “he needs nothing.”

“who the fuck is this?” soldier boy asks again, and he’s relentless in his pursuit now, coming for your space with the authority of a man who has never been told no in his life. “get out of the way, sweetheart, or you won’t like how this blows up in your face.”

he had hurt you before. you were not human then, but you remembered all of the aches of it. you knew that soldier boy did not goad before he hurt you, or make bold-faced threats. he was lying.

you tilt your chin up, holding the eye contact. he was an unkind man, cruel in every crevice — but so were you, weren’t you? how evil it was to see yourself reflected in a man you hated, who you wanted to break into pieces and burn so all of the tears you shed fizzled away with him. “you will not like what you see.”

soldier boy cocks an eyebrow. “y’think i’m gonna hold it over your head if you’ve got a pair of panties left out?”

you step back into your room, all clean and panty free, and wait for him to take the step to follow you before you slam the door against his nose. the door rattles in the frame. soldier boy, on the other side, grunts in surprise, before he kicks at the hinges.

“that is enough!” the legend’s voice rips through the expansive space of his penthouse, his cane clicking across the floor. “i am not losing two fucking doors to this childish shit.”

you’ve moved, now. you can’t prevent soldier boy from busting down your door, but you can prevent them from fully infiltrating your bedroom. you go into the closet, to the deeper parts lined with memorabilia that you tried to ignore every time you were in here, and snatch the army green suit off of the hanger.

your eyes catch on the shield, hung up on the back wall. useless now. all of its indestructibility existed within you now, making it nothing but a heavy disc of metal.

tucking it under one arm, you hurry back to your bedroom, the arguing male voices outside getting aggravated enough that you know the door is about to crumble.

you knew soldier boy. you knew he could not help but exert some sort of dominance, if he could, to feel more in control. but you would not be in there when he came in and saw the display left on your bed.

instead, you tucked away in your closet, closing your eyes to try and find any sort of solace in the solitude. as always, it did nothing but squeeze tight around you, trapping you in a cage of your own making.

you can hear the exact moment your door is kicked down, along with the moment that soldier boy sees his things laid out for him. his suit, unwrinkled and unmarred. his physical shield, dented and decimated and as light as a kitchen plate.

and his real shield, hiding away from the reality that your nightmares always seemed to catch up to you.

notes. believe it or not i did not start this with the idea that indy was going to be so rapunzel. but it makes sense </3 there's a lot of lore i'm going to slowly incorporate that is hinted at in here / spawned from this so <3 perfect starting point! cannot WAIT for the boys^tm to meet this lil thing. hope u guys love her like i do my lil evil princess !!!

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @jensenacklesballsack @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @h8aaz

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt # 12: Wanna Help Me Win a Bet?

So our scene opens with an older team Phantom (Everlasting trio, Jazz, Val, and Dani) at a bar/club of some sort in New York. They're all catching up on how their lives are going (college, work, internships, milestones, travels, wacky happenings, etc.). Somehow the topic shifts to romantic relationships and the gang begins ribbing Danny for his awkward teen romances. He was an absolute disaster at flirting even if his exes found it charming at the time. It's all good-natured and fun.

Then Danny's like "Hey well least I've improved now" which earns him an eyebrow raise or two. The gang goes "Oh yeah? Prove it. Bet you 100 bucks you can't get that person's number" *points to an attractive black-haired individual sitting at the bar*. And of course, since Danny isn't one to back down from a bet and has his pride to defend he goes off to flirt with a stranger.

On the flip side, we have a Batfam member (or other black-haired DC character) of your choosing (you already know my fav is Jason) sitting at the bar. Why are they there? Idk maybe it's for a case? Maybe they wanted to meet up with friends outside of Gotham? You decide. Anyways, the point is that their minding their own business when a fairly attractive twunk walks up and starts hitting on them awkwardly. And man, this guy is not smooth in the slightest but he's dorky and awkward and kinda cute. They talk to him a bit, teasing and doing some light flirting back. They aren't taking him too seriously, really they're more amused than anything else.

Finally, the guy kinda just gives up trying to be smooth and sighs. He looks at them with a serious look on his face and goes "Look I'll level with you, my friends over there bet me a 100 bucks I wouldn't be able to successfully flirt with you. I'm gonna lean over and whisper in your ear and if you could just agree laugh like I said something witty and give me your number then I'll split the cash with you."

Then he leans over and whispers "Whaddya say, wanna help me win a bet?"

And they let out a genuine laugh and go "You know what? Sure, why not. You're not half-bad and I won't say no to an easy 50" and they grab a napkin, pull a pen out of seemingly nowhere, and give Danny their number (and their Venmo/PayPal/cash app or whatever). They hang out a bit more that night before going their separate ways. A day or two later they get a notification that someone sent them $50 and a message "wanna get coffee/lunch/dinner sometime?"

[mousy-muses13]

Inspired by Jaws from Sleep Token Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Simon and you have been dating for a half a year now. Everything is going great. You are very understanding of his crazy schedule and long absences. He is kinda saving the world, plus you don't mind the alone time. You still spend as much time as possible when he is home and always with a smile on your face. The same smile he saw from across the bar that made him walk away from his team to buy you a drink. The same smile he got when he asked for you number and when he picked you up on your first date. it's the smile you perfected through the years.

You didn't have the easiest life. Your parents chose drugs over caring for you, you found attention from older men who just groomed you and left you behind when they were done playing with you. You hit rock bottom a few times, but you always found your way back to the surface. It didn't take long for you to realize that people don't care about your past struggles only if you can get the job done. So you just say yes and smile. Staying late to help your co worker, taking on that extra project, going to the bar after a successful presentation, all answered with a smile and a simple yes.

Ghost is a man of war, but Simon is a man of understanding. Sometimes one flows into the other. Like how Simon doesn't miss how perfect your smile is yet your eyes will flicker with pain. He wants to understand your pain and why you smile through it. He wants to see the real you. Not this delicate persona you put on for everyone.

You wanted to date Simon because you felt like you were missing something. He is the first man to actually show patience with you and to not rush you or mold you in anyway. You slowly started to slip up and seemed less perfect and he stayed. Whenever you had these slip up Simon would think that this is when he gets to see the pain that hind in your eyes, but you would quickly shove it back down. He didn't need your emotional baggage his job carried enough.

The stage was set and the curtains were drawn and your facade came crumbling down. You got a phone call from an unknown number you you quickly picked it up. It could be Simon or his captain calling. What if he was hurt? What if is deployment is getting extended? when you pick up and give your proper hello you hear the two voices you never thought you would hear again. Your parents are on the other end. They are talking about some 12 step program and them needing your forgiveness. You honestly stop listening to them and zone out. The room is getting blurry and your cheeks feel wet. you reach your hand up and realize you are crying. You don't give them a good bye and you just hang up. You toss your phone and it hits the wall. It felt so good you pick up the remote next and throw it as hard as you can. You can't stop, you throw pillows and flip the coffee table, break plates and glasses. You even break out in a laugh from how ridiculous the whole situation is.

You are so lost in processing everything you don't even hear the door unlock or Simon announcing his presence. He looks around the flat and sees the broken glass, flipped table, and the pillows everywhere. He slowly walks up to you, your back is turned to him and he reaches one hand out to touch your shoulder. You get startled my the hand on your shoulder and you quickly turn to see your boyfriend home early. When you turn around he see bloodshot eyes and tear stained face. You scrabble out of his grip and start to pick up the mess you back all while asking him not to be mad and how you didn't expect him home so early. You are rushing to pick up the mess you accidentally cut your hand. Simon rushes to your side and takes you into the bathroom to help you clean up your hand. He tells you how he tired calling but your phone went straight to voicemail. The whole time you are silently crying and avoiding eye contact.

He cups your face after bandaging up your hand. He looks in your eyes and sees fully the amount of pain you are in and its not the physical kind of pain. He tells you in a stern voice to look at him and tell him what is wrong. You tell him how he deals with so much shit he doesn't need yours to add to it. He gives you that smart ass answer of how he can decide what is too much for him. It's silent for a beat before you tell him everything. You tell him about your parents and the phone call you got. You tell him how livid you are at how they think that just because they are sober and in some program they deserve your forgiveness. How they don't truly understand how their actions affected you.

When you are done it feels like the elephant on your chest has decided to stand up and you smile. It's in that moment he sees your real smile were there is joy in your eyes. All this time you thought he wouldn't want to see or deal with your emotions. All this time all he wanted was to see your jaws.

[layce2015]

Sneak Peek #2 for The Boys Fic (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

(A/n: Soooo…hey everybody! I know it has been awhile since my last post, which announced that I was gonna do a The Boys fic, and I am sorry for the wait. For anyone wondering, yes I am still doing it I’ve just been dealing with every writer’s worst nightmare….Wirter’s Block!

Mainly it’s cause the show doesn’t give a whole lot of Soldier Boy’s backstory and I’ve been adding some flashbacks into my fic that shows how Soldier Boy and (y/n) interacted. But all we got of Soldier Boy’s past is from other people’s perspective and maybe some mentions from the man himself. So it has been a rough to come up with scenarios from little information we got. So I stepped back from it for a bit. But now I’m back on working on it and I have at least two and a half chapters written out and it’s supposed to have at least 8 chapters. But it could be more if Soldier Boy ends up appearing in season 4.

Anyway, to prove that I am working on this fic, here is another sneak peek for the fic.)

"Well, we got to talk. I think I have something, thanks to my informant." Maeve said and she hands him a folder. "Informant?" Butcher asked as he takes the file and opens it to see some pages of information and pictures of Soldier Boy. "Soldier Boy. So what?" Butcher said as he looks up at her.

"Remember how he died?" Maeve asked him. "Stopping a nuclear meltdown in Ohio. '83, '84, I think, got buried beneath a reactor. Always thought it was bollocks." Butcher said. "Yeah, you thought right. Read." She tells him and he reads the file.

"What's B.C.L. RED?" He asked. "If you believe the rumors, it's the thing that killed Soldier Boy. My informant said it's some kind of gun or weapon or something. Had to have been a fսcking H-bomb. He was nearly as strong as..." Maeve said as Butcher looks through the file and looks at some pictures.

"If we can find this...weapon or whatever it is, maybe we can use it to blow Homelander's fսcking brains out." Maeve said. "If it is real, not some fսcking fable." Butcher said then he picks up the team-up picture of Payback. "Payback." Butcher mutters before he scoffs. "What a bunch of fսcking wankеrs." He said as he stares at photo. "When The Seven passed them as the number one super team, Crimson Countess sent me a box of cat shit. But not all of them were bad. She was a close friend of Soldier Boy and his ex-girlfriend." Maeve said as she gestures to the photo and points at the red-haired woman in the red outfit who was standing on the right of Soldier Boy.

"And, uh, Gunpowder was his sidekick." She said as she points at the young teen who was standing at Soldier Boy's left. "If anyone knows what happened to him, they do." Maeve said while Butcher noticed Noir in the photo. "Your mate Noir was in Payback. Why don't you ask him?" He asked her and Maeve scoffs. "Even if that walking tumor could talk, it wouldn't be to me." She said and Butcher looks at the photo again and noticed a woman standing on the other side of Gunpowder.

She looked about in her late twenties, her long (h/c) hair was braided and she was wearing a dark blue body-suit and a gold belt and knee high boots, a matching cape on her shoulders.

"Is that...?" Butcher started to ask and Mavee nodded. "Mystic Shade, yeah." She said. "Haven't heard that name in years." Butcher said and Maeve shrugs. "She retired sometime after Soldier Boy's death. She was fucking Soldier Boy." Maeve said as Butcher flips to another photo and this one was of Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade together. They were both smiling and Mystic Shade was hugging Soldier Boy as he had an arm around her waist.

Butcher then looks at Maeve. "Well then, I should be visiting her, not these two knobs." Butcher said but Maeve shakes her head. "No, Mystic Shade is off limits." She said, firmly, and Butcher gives her a curious look. "And why is that, princess?" Butcher asked and Maeve just glares at him.

Suddenly, it clicks with him. "Mystic Shade is your informant, isn't she?" He asked and Maeve averts his gaze and he smiles, knowing he was right. "Fine! Yes, she was the one that gave me this information. But she told me, specifically, that she didn't want to be questioned because this is all she wanted to give." Maeve said and Butcher watches her. "So, please, don't go bothering her." Maeve demanded.

"Well, well, well, didn't know you had such a soft spot for Mystic Shade." Butcher said and Maeve sighs. "We've been in communication for almost a year. Then when she heard about Homelander and all the fucked up things he's done and how I want him gone, she provided this." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look that basically said he knew there was more to it.

"Fine, she was one of the heroes I looked up to when I was a kid, okay! Unlike most of these assholes, she actually cares about people." Maeve said. "Oh, I doubt that." Butcher said. "Doubt it all you want but it's the truth." Maeve said as she digs into her purse and pulls out a little bag. "Here." She said and Butcher takes the bag, unzips it and sees small vials of green liquid.

"What's this?" He asked her. "It's Temp V. One shot makes you a Supe for 24 hours. I mean, they think. It's still in R&D." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look. "Oh, great, so powers, maybe. Maybe my bollocks swell up like footballs. Yeah?" Butcher said, sarcastically. "Payback may be a bunch of fսck holes, but they're strong. And they're dangerous. If you're going against them, you're gonna need it." Maeve warns.

"And what makes you think that me, of all people, would want to turn into one of you?" Butcher asked her as he takes a step closer to her. "This is our best chance to kill Homelander. Don't fսck it up." She said.

(A/n: And here is another peek, this is one of the flashbacks.)

I walk up to the stage as Doctor Vought was at the microphone, talking. Then he turns to me and holds his arm out to me. “Now please welcome the new hero, Mystic Shade!” He said and I push back all of my negative emotions and smile and wave as I walk up to him while the crowd applauded.

I go to Dr. Vought and he shakes my hand then kisses both of my cheeks then leads me to the microphone. Once I get to the microphone, Dr Vought said. “Now, Mystic Shade, will be taking questions.”

And a flood of voices saying over here, over here chanted out and Vought points to a random person. “Yes, you there!” He calls out. “How does it feel to be selected to join by Dr. Vought?” A male voice called out. “Um, it is an incredible opportunity here. And I’m very excited to join.” I replied then more raised hands and voices. Dr Vought pointed out to a different man. 

“When did you first discover your powers?” The second man asked me. “I was about fifteen or sixteen years old when I found out. I guess I was alway born with them it just didn’t develop until I became a teenager.” I replied. “And what are they? I mean, what can you do?” The man asked. “Well, I’m strong, I can move objects without touching them and I can make shields to protect myself and people around me.” I replied and there was a series of ooh’s and aah’s across the crowd. 

Then another round of hands shooting up in the air and Dr Vought points at another hand. "So, are you gonna help out with the war? If so, how does it feel to be the first woman to be out in the field?" The third man asked. "It is something I never would've imagined but I want to help out not just the country but the people who are involved." I said then another man calls out.

​​​​​​"So what's it feel like to achieve everything you hoped for?" He asked and I paused at this. Truth is I didn't achieve anything, this is all a lie. I wanted to scream that out so badly but I couldn't as I stood there frozen. "I-I, uh..." I stammered then Vought comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sure she feels fantastic. She's being very modest right now. Not being used to this kind of attention can make anyone freeze. So let's give a hand for our new hero!" Vought said and there was applause and I give a small, weak smile.

Minutes later, I walk out on the balcony and took in a deep breath then let it out. Being in that ballroom suffocated me. I lean against the stone railings of the balcony and took in some quick breathes until anger rose in my chest and I slam my fists down on it, making the stone crack. "Whoa-ho, remind me not to make you angry." A male voice said, a bit of a laugh in his tone. 

I jumped at this, not expecting anyone out here, and look to my left to see a man, in a army uniform with a long coat, standing some feet away from me. "I'm not in the mood to talk." I grumbled and I look out on the balcony. "I figured. Saw you up on that stage....and well, here..." he said and I look over at him and see him holding a bottle out to me.​​​​​ "You need this more than me."

"Did you steal that from party?" I asked him. "More like borrowing." He said, shrugging, and I chuckled a bit then take the bottle from him. "Thank you." I said and I begin to drink from it. "I'm guessing rough day?" He asked me. “You could say that.” I muttered and I take another drink from the bottle. 

“These Vought parties are never what the public thinks they are. The only good things here are the food, the booze…and the pretty women.” He said and he gives me a flirtatious smile. I giggled a little and smile, which I just realized is my first genuine smile I’ve made in months. “I’m flattered but…I’m married.” I tell him and he has a surprised look on his face.

”I don’t believe that.” He said and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And why is that?” I asked him. “No sane man, especially a husband, would leave you out here on your own.”  He said and I laugh a little again. “Maybe, I wanted to be alone.” I said and he shrugs a little. “You may have a point. But, even so, shouldn’t be out here alone. Some stranger could try to chat you up.” He said. “Like you?” I asked him, smiling, and he chuckles.

”Yeah…” he mutters and we share a small laugh then he holds his hand out to me. “I’m Ben.” He introduces and I take his hand. “(Y/n).” I said as we shake hands. “(Y/n), beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He said and I give a bashful smile to him. “Thank you.” I said then he kisses the back of my hand and I felt my heart leap in my chest.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time, not since I married my husband. 

“So, you happily married?” He asked me and my smile falters. “Judging by that frown, I’m guessing not.” Ben said and I sighed. “Just…going through a tough time right now.” I said. “That’s why I never married, when the tough times come in, there’s nothing to tie you down.” Ben said and I nod at this. “I’m starting to think that’s a good idea.” I said before I drink from the bottle again.

At that moment, we hear the door open behind us and I look over my shoulder to see it was Adam. “There you are.” Adam said as he comes up to me. Then he looks over at Ben and seems surprised. “Oh, I see you’re talking to your teammate.” He said and I furrow my brow. “Huh?” I said and Adam places an arm around my shoulder. “This is Soldier Boy. Your partner in the war.” Adam tells me and I was surprised by this.

I have heard the name Soldier Boy but I didn’t know what he looked like since I was trapped in that lab for the last few months.

I look over at Ben and he gives me a smile. “Surprise?” He asked me. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for not recognizing you, sir.” I said to him. “It’s fine, just don’t go forgetting my face now.” He said, smiling, and I chuckled. “I most certainly will not.” I said and he nods.

”Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure I’m needed in there.” Ben said as he gestures to the door. And I felt a little sad about him leaving, I was kinda enjoying his company. “You two have a good evening.” Ben said as he walks over to the door. “And you as well.” Adam said then Adam turns to me as I look out on the balcony.

”I see you already starting the night off.” Adam said, gesturing to the bottle of champagne in my hands, but I don’t respond as I look over my shoulder in time to see Ben go to the door. It seemed he sensed me and he looks over his shoulder at me then smiles and gives me a wink before he walks in.

My heart absolutely fluttered at this and I felt my face go red before I look back out on the balcony.

[pokemon-card-of-the-day]

Pokemon Card of the Day #3127: Light Machamp (Neo Destiny)

Light Machamp had some interesting traits. Getting a minor heal and a free switch with Evolution could be pretty useful if enough Energy was in play to attack right away, and the hit against Dark Pokemon and Darkness-types was nice when it worked. This was all put on an attacker with decent power. There was already some competition for the Fighting-type with interesting traits role, most notably with Donphan due to an equal base damage output, so separation would be needed to get this to see use.

100 HP was a very solid number, though one that was kind of needed on a Stage 2. Only the biggest hits would get a KO right away, such as a well set-up Feraligatr or a Blaine's Arcanine. More likely you'd see this go down in 2, which meant trading blows was rather doable. A Psychic Weakness meant that you were relying a ton on coin flips against Dark Gengar and were in trouble if Espeon showed up. The Retreat Cost here was 2, and the goal was to get Energy in play well enough to let another Light Machamp take over so you never needed to worry about it. In practice, you'd probably retreat at least once during a game.

Tag Team was a fun Pokemon Power, but did limit when you wanted to evolve. If Light Machamp was played from your hand to evolve a Pokemon on the Bench, you removed 3 damage counters from your Active Pokemon. You then switched Light Machamp with your Active Pokemon. There was no choice here, so you had to only evolve when ready to attack. The possible exception was if you just wanted to use it as a pivot using Balloon Berry, which wasn't usually what you wanted to do but also gave a chance to conserve Energy or get a desperate heal in. It was nice to have some of these plays available even if it was also awkward at times.

Beatdown, against most Pokemon, did 50 damage. This was pretty solid against most things, taking most opponents down in 2 hits. IT should be noted that it fell a little short against important Pokemon like Feraligatr and Steelix, howver, which was a problem. The side effect only came into effect if targeting a Darkness-type Pokemon or a Pokemon with Dark in its name. This got you a coin flip, and heads added 50 more damage. 100 for 3 was absurd in this era, and was a KO against the likes of Dark Feraligatr, Umbreon, Dark Vileplume, and even Dark Gengar through the Resistance. This was, of course, if you got the flip, which made it less nice than you might expect it to be sometimes.

Light Machamp was all about match-ups. It was quite good at messing with Dark Feraligatr if it got even decent luck, and the healing and pivoting could be really annoying for any deck trying to run Murkrow. On the other hand, it was atrocious against Feraligatr and wasn't too good at facing Steelix or Crobat either. If you really expected to see those good match-ups a lot, Light Machamp was a very capable deck. If you expected some other sort of mix and still wanted to go with a Fighting-type, Donphan could be way more annoying to deal with due to being able to hide behind a Baby Pokemon a bunch, so that was worth considering instead. Giovanni's Machamp was also worth looking at as well, but Light Machamp had its good moments.

[lipglossanon]

When You’re With Me I’m Smiling

 ⁂—————✵————— ⁂

Ark Thompson x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: cute fluff!, kissing, flirting, cheesy banter 🤭 Ark’s just a soft boy who I wanted to write ✍️

not proofread 👌 kinda came out of nowhere and wrote this in like an hour 🫣

Title from Lady by Styx 💜

 ⁂—————✵————— ⁂

He’s quiet. Something you’ve come to appreciate the more you work with other agents. His friend Leon tends to be a smart ass on the best of days, so when Ark is the only one teaming up with you on projects (no sandy haired menace in sight), you can breathe a sigh of relief.

He works hard and keeps his head down, but also jumps into it when he needs to get his hands dirty. You tend to stick to the admin side of things, being the researcher and liaison for the missions you both take on for the agency. All in all (when you’re not able to work with Rebecca) Ark is your next choice on the roster. 

It’s how you both end up working late nights, ordering Chinese takeout and comparing which 90’s boy band had the worst hair. This particular Friday evening is the great debate between 98° and LFO on who is least remembered. 

“If it wasn’t for Nick Lachey marrying Jessica Simpson, no one would remember them,” Ark points out, spearing a piece of broccoli onto his fork and pointing it at you. 

“Exactly,” you roll your eyes, reaching for the soy sauce, “they’re more recognized because of the association. No one in hell remembers LFO.”

Ark cracks a smile at you, tossing a fortune cookie at you, “Alright, I guess I can see your point. I only know the one song by them anyways.”

You gesture with your arm while closing your empty container, “Thank you. I deserve this win after you won against Justin’s ramen hair.”

“Two words: frosted tips,” he laughs as you flip him off and grab your fortune cookie. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you scrunch your nose, “why was that even a thing in the first place?”

He shrugs easily, leaning back into his chair, “Same reason tribal tattoos around the bicep were in style.”

You both make eye contact before cracking up loudly. 

“God, I’m so happy some styles die out with time,” you giggle, standing up to toss your stuff into the trash. 

Ark follows suit, walking with you out of the conference room to the nearby break room, recycling what needs to be and throwing away the rest. 

“You doing anything this weekend?” He asks, stalling by the door until you’re finished as well. 

You fall into step with him as you head over to your desks out in the bullpen.

“Binge some brain rotting television and clean my messy house,” you grin, shouldering him before stopping at your desk to grab your jacket and purse, “what about you?”

He hums and shuffles awkwardly as you slip your jacket on, “I was, uh, going to see if you wanted to meet up tomorrow sometime?”

You frown, “To work on the case?”

You watch as a blush colors the tips of his ears before sweeping down to his cheekbones. His brown eyes dart away and then back to you. 

He clears his throat nervously, “Not exactly. I was wondering if you’d want to go out on a date?”

“Oh,” you draw up short, eyes taking in his flushed face and nervous uptic of his lips. 

Nodding, you give him a shy smile, “Y-yeah that sounds nice. You have my number, right?”

His smile broadens until you can see a flash of teeth, “Yep, I’ve got it. I’ll call you tomorrow to hammer out the details?”

You laugh, “Maybe work on the sweet talk, huh?”

He flushes harder and rubs the back of his neck, “S-sorry, kinda nervous.”

Chest fluttering with butterflies, you link your arm with his and walk over to his desk. 

“We can work on it.”

Stopping to grab some files from his work area, Ark walks with you out into the company parking garage. 

“See you tomorrow,” you press a quick kiss to his cheek, “drive safe.”

Smiling bashfully, he rubs the skin you pressed your lips against, “You too.”

By the next afternoon, Ark calls and invites you to try out a new Italian place that Leon swears is the best. Much to your surprise, it’s actually authentic and delicious. You both spend the next couple of hours chatting over pasta and bread, work being completely off the table as a topic. After learning that Ark has never been to the local malt shop (who knew they even still existed!), you convinced him to make that your next stop. 

Now, milkshakes in hand, you walk along the pavement to the nearby park, the late evening sun casting long shadows. Coaxing Ark to sit on a bench, you sit thigh to thigh, sharing bites of your cold treats until you’re both giggling and sharing sticky sweet kisses. Sitting your empty cups to the side, Ark takes your face in his calloused hands and presses the softest of kisses to your cold lips. 

“I’m glad you agreed to go out with me,” he murmurs in the small space between your mouths, “I’ve been crushing on you for months.”

Your eyes light up, giddy excitement bubbling in your chest, “Really? I never picked up on it.”

Ark grins, thumb coming up to tug your bottom lip down, “Kept it close to the chest, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You melt into him a little, nipping his thumb before leaning in to kiss him more firmly than before. Losing track of time, the sound of cicadas alerts you to the late time when Ark finally pulls away from you, lips looking bee stung and swollen (you’re sure you don’t look much better).

“Let’s get you home,” his voice comes out rough, sending chill bumps skating across your skin. 

Holding hands from the park to his car, he only lets go to help hold open the door for you to get in before climbing into the driver's seat and taking your hand up once more. He randomly kisses your knuckles as he drives, shooting you soft little smiles that make your heart beat fast. Making it back to your apartment, Ark walks you all the way up to your door. 

“I had a really wonderful time,” you bite your bottom lip, feeling a little zing at the soreness you feel from your earlier make out.

“I did, too,” he rumbles, eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to your eyes, “can I kiss you goodnight?”

“Please,” you breathe out, hands reaching around to tease the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck when he leans down into your space.

With a soft groan, he kisses you deeply, tongue licking past your swollen lips to rub against yours. You eagerly suck on the slick muscle as your nails scrape against the base of his skull. A deep hum echoes from his chest making you press the dough of your thighs together. He pulls away, resting his forehead against your temple as you both catch your breaths. 

“I’ll call you when I get home?” The last word lilts upward as in a question and you smile, stepping back to your door. 

“I’d like that,” you murmur happily. 

He grins, boyish and charming, “Alrighty. Have a goodnight.”

He dips back in for a quick kiss to your cheek and leaves back to the elevators. You quickly unlock your door and slip inside. Once you’ve shut and locked it back, you slump against the hardwood with a sigh. Feeling as giddy as a schoolgirl, you laugh out loud and press a hand to your lips. 

Seems like Ark might take the top spot as your favorite partner to work with from here on out. 

[open-hearth-rpg]

Engagement & Flashbacks: Great RPG Mechanics #RPGMechanics: Week Three

I have sat through hundreds of in-game planning sessions. There’s an objective, maybe specific, maybe general, maybe- god forbid- we’re discussing which objective we want to approach. These can be wonderful and interesting moments to explore character and role play to show what your PC values. They can be. But those are exceptions rather than the rule. I look back at the hours sunk into those which ended up in painful, circular, player-tension exacerbating, and time-consuming bad meetings.

My particular pet peeve from this is the player who listens and waits until someone has proposed a line of action and then says they don’t like it. They point out corner-case problems and wild possibilities which *could* make things collapse. But when pressed for fix suggestions or alternatives, they shrug their shoulders. I loathe them. I’ve seen many of them. Playing them at the ttrpg table made me that much more ready to flip out when people did this in actual work meetings in the real world.

Don’t get me wrong– I love it when a plan comes together. There’s few things more satisfying as a GM than to watch the players consider a problem, develop a solution, and reveal how their individual talents can save the day. But setting a planning session into motion is like lighting a stick of dynamite. Sometimes the players come together and manage to extinguish that fuse. More times the dynamite goes off and blows a hole in the session.

So that has long been an established problem that GMs have worked through, usually by degrees of heavy-handed riding the whip.

Blades in the Dark provided another solution and one, honestly, which completely changed my approach to this at every table I run. You have a job, a score, an objective. You can keep choosing that tight by filing down the number of options. Once you know generally what you want to do, you define the kind task and what’s your key element. Then we go to the engagement roll.

That roll is based on the challenge of the situation, the resources and information you have, and preparation (but only in the loosest sense). Good stuff gives you more dice, bad stuff takes away dice. You roll a pool of d6s and check the result. If the highest die is a six, we start the scene on the job with your characters in control. They’ve gotten past the easy layers and are in the more challenging part, but in a good spot. On a 4-5 it's more a mixed bag– you start out with some things at risk. You have to overcome a standard challenge right away. On a 1-3 we drop you in the shit. You’re in but things have gone wrong and the situation’s desperate.

But it's the other half of the system which completes this and makes things brilliant. Players can flashback to preparations they’ve made. They can improvise these on the fly. They can cost stress and require a test, but that’s dependent on how wild or impactful that prep is. Combining that with the flexible loadout system makes the players feel OK about rolling into a situation without having spent an hour working out all the possibilities.

And at least at my tables, the secret is that flashbacks don’t get done that often. Sometimes PCs will get jammed in a corner or a player will have a particularly clever concept. But Flashbacks IMHO provide a mental cushion for risk-adverse players. It’s the GM saying, “let’s get to playing, I’m not going to screw you over, and you’ll have the chance to pull cool stuff out.” And it works– and I promise you I use it in just about every game I run. We still do meetings and planning discussions, but I know I can wrap it up and move it to the play if that begins to look like it is going to blow up.

Side-note: Blades isn’t the first game to lean on flashbacks as a key element. I think that would be Leverage, which is an amazing ground-breaking game by a dynamite team of designers. It uses that to model the reveals of the TV shows it's based on. There may be others, but that’s the one I remember.

[marvelousbutterfly]

Real growth takes time

Chapter 2: I feel it in moments (a semblance of free)

Read on ao3

“I did some research,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “I can see that” Bucky stated, simultaneously curious, confused and amused. As Peter opened the binder, the first page was blank except for some writing in the center, made cautiously with big crooked letters, each in a different color. The former soldier tilted his head in order to be able to read the words: OPERATION: BUCKY UNMASKING

“Did you ask Friday to call me?” Bucky asked as he spotted sitting quietly on the carpet, a big binder on the coffee table in front of him.

Instead of answering the question  - which he wasn’t even sure was rhetoric or not - the boy simply pointed at the binder, as if it offered an explanation.

“I did some research,” he finally said after a few moments of silence.

“I can see that” Bucky stated, simultaneously curious, confused and amused.

As Peter opened the binder, the first page was blank except for some writing in the center, made cautiously with big crooked letters, each in a different color. The former soldier tilted his head in order to be able to read the words:

OPERATION: BUCKY UNMASKING

Amused, he sat down on the carpet in front of the boy, who then proceeded to flip through the pages, all filled with graphs, highlighted texts, numbers and symbols he recognized from his classes in high school.

“According to the people I’ve talked to, an important step is finding a community. People around your age, with similar experiences and interests.” At that, Bucky hesitated, but before he could say anything, Peter continued. “Now, I know you have a hard time with people, not only because of autism, so we can take it slow with this one. For now, you have us.”

The man smiled, slowly gaining more confidence about the whole idea.

“What are the other steps?” ______________________________________________________________

“Pay attention to your thoughts about yourself, your internalized ableism.”

Bucky started trying to fight his internalized ableism, with the help of his therapist and his friends. Although it was easier said than done, sometimes he managed it.

One time, the team was in the gym training some hand to hand combat. Bucky was feeling uncomfortable, and for a good half an hour he couldn’t recognize why that was. That is, until he shook his head from side to side, feeling his hair move along with it. The movement felt right.

Stop that, you look weird.

Bucky almost caved to the voice in his head, but he managed to push the thought away.

I don’t care. It feels good and I don’t care what other people think. I’m not hurting anyone. He silently argued with the voice.

Feeling more confident, the next head shake was accompanied by him scrunching his face. Then snapping his tongue. Yeah, now the world felt right again. He continued with the training, no one giving him odd looks or anything. The only acknowledgement he received was from Peter, who looked at him with a serious face from across the room, giving a single nod of his head in a comical homage to the action movies he loved so much. Bucky nodded back. ______________________________________________________________

“Acknowledge your needs. Don’t be afraid to admit you need a certain accommodation.”

Movie nights tended to be difficult for Bucky. Between the chewing sounds, the rustle of clothing and leather as another person adjusted their position, and his inconsistent visual and auditory processing, sometimes he stressed over the event more than enjoying it. They already had some adaptations in place for them all. Avoiding each of their triggers, having only some dim lights on for Peter, no loud noises, even no sci-fi movie because of Bucky himself.

Deep down, he knew there would be no issue in asking the team to consider other adaptations as well. Still, he would always convince himself he didn’t need them. He only felt a bit uncomfortable, but he still managed it, so why would he bother everyone about it?

One night, though, as they got comfortable on the different couches, bean bags and even the floor, Natasha kept her eyes on him. She had that unreadable expression on her face, the one that made everyone feel like she was staring into their souls. That might as well have been the case, because as soon as Bucky excused himself for a bathroom break, she followed suit and confronted him in the hallway.

“You know you can just talk to us, right? It won’t be a bother, we want you to feel comfortable” she said without hesitation, already making it clear she knew the truth and wouldn’t accept an excuse in response. Bucky took a deep breath and admitted his thoughts.

When they headed back to the living room, Natasha silently took the controller from Tony’s hand, quickly adding closed captions. Everyone looked at her curiously, but no one dared question her actions. The spy simply handed the remote back to Tony, then made herself comfortable on the couch again, with her legs on Clint’s lap. She noticed Bucky still looking at her, frozen in place, and discreetly curved one side of her lips upwards in an almost unnoticeable half-smile. Bucky noticed. ______________________________________________________________

“Don’t worry about following all the social rules you’ve been taught. Interact with people your own way.”

“Come on, just hit him!”

“No, I don’t want him to get hurt!”

“Peter, it’s a video game!” Clint countered, exasperated. “No one’s actually getting hurt.”

“Your hyperempathy is showing, kid” Sam snickered.

Peter rolled his eyes, “I told you guys I’m better at racing games.”

Bucky watched the situation with amusement, though the sentiment didn’t quite show in his face. He was wearing noise-canceling headphones, which he preferred over ear defenders, and reading a book Peter had recommended. His body rocked from side to side in his seated position, knees bent close to his chest, the book laid on top of them.

The guys playing video games had invited him to join them, but he was happy to simply sit nearby, entertained by his book and the banter next to him.

Parallel play, he would later learn this was called. ______________________________________________________________

“Leave a situation or ask for help when you need it. It’s okay to need time for yourself.”

Bucky and Steve were jogging in a nearby park, wearing their usual “disguise” consisting of a cap and sunglasses. They had been there for about 30 minutes, which was nothing. Still, he felt tired, although not necessarily in the physical sense. 

On this particular day, the park had more people than usual, with families walking around having ice cream, elderly couples watching the ducks in the pond, and children learning how to ride their bikes. It was a nice scene to watch, but he felt overwhelmed. 

Noticing that he had stopped running, Steve halted and looked back at Bucky, waiting patiently for a reaction.

The former soldier clenched and unclenched his fists - a nervous stim of his -, gathering the courage he needed to say his thoughts.

“I think I might-” he interrupted himself, clearing his throat and trying to sound more certain, “I want to go back to the Tower.”

“Alright, no problem,” his friend agreed, showing no hesitation at all.

They had been best friends their entire lives, Bucky knew that Steve wouldn’t deny his wishes or needs. Still, it felt relieving being able to admit his needs out loud and get a positive reaction.

They headed back to their living quarters, and simply laid on the floor while listening to classical music. ______________________________________________________________

"Learn to love your true self. "

As the months passed, Bucky learned more and more about himself. He learned that scrunching up his face felt nice somehow (“I noticed you used to do that when we were younger”, Steve would say); he learned that he didn’t mind loud noises that much, except for sirens, but he couldn’t stand the sound of the microwave; he learned that he preferred tight clothes that provided pressure, and with rough fabrics as opposed to the soft ones Peter liked.

Little by little, he started letting himself be… well, himself. He would stim and not stop himself - or if he did so, he would soon realize it and start doing it again. He would acknowledge his needs and act according to them. The hardest part was asking for help, but he was working on it.

The metaphorical mask didn’t drop like magic. Sometimes he would hide behind it again, especially when people he wasn’t used to were nearby. But his team, his family, kept encouraging him by making him feel accepted and loved.

Bucky smiled to himself. “Operation Bucky Unmasking” was a success.

[latinapoetbts]

I Miss you when the lights go down | KTH & Reader (Latina) Summary: Two elite soldiers from different planets in an interplant military collection train together and have a night of passion.

The warriors private formal was only one time a year and something we could enjoy and relax, cut loose and no one would care. Because every soul present would be returning if even for a night, to a time of youth, a time of innocence and naitavie. Youthful risk taking carefree times with no war of the worlds looming. A time that just for a few hours we could all feel free of our warrior training, hours, days and years of learning to kill by flight, by weapons, by knives and hands. I wanted it all, I wanted to feel carefree, take all the risks, and feel loved even for a night. Loved with no strings attached. But I wanted it all with him. I was beyond happy that he had decided to come after all. 

Him. Kim Taehyung, 1st Class Top Rank SF (special forces) Aviator from KorifilKan. I had started a professional warrior relationship with 1st Class Aviator Kim 3 years ago. I was 24 at the time when I was selected for the co-op warrior fellowship planet program, he was 21 when I met him. The COWFP program was designed to combine our planet's military force with neighboring plants in The Fellowship. Top Class Squadrons from each specialized unit from our planets participate in the military exchange in order to strengthen partnership and unify our militaries in the event of invasion. It was essential for us to know how to work together to defend our home planets. It was an honor to serve and protect our home planets and The Fellowship. I was a 1st Class Top Rank SF Aviator from my home planet of Soranifet. I spent two years in KorifillKan’s Aviator program learning their flight maneuvers and learning how to operate their flight crafts, civilian and military crafts. I learned how to execute offensive and defensive war strategies alongside Korifillkan warriors. It was two years I spent living with and alongside 1st Class Aviator Kim. He had then spent nearly two years in my home country learning from our Aviation team. I tried to keep my heart at bay but it was devastatingly difficult. Although it certainly wasn’t forbidden for us to fuck one another it was understood for us to not form romantic relationship with those from other neiborbing planets who served and commanded military forces. But we could fuck all we wanted. They had ensured that we could not reproduce while we served in the military. Women's eggs were frozen and tubes temporarily tied. Men were provided with temporary vasectomy and an option to freeze sperm. They wanted to ensure if we wanted to have children after our time served that we could.  

So yes I had done plenty of fucking during my time served but I knew I couldn’t cross that line with him. I knew for me it would never be just sex. It would never be just fun or stress relief. I knew if he touched me, if he kissed me, if we fucked, I’d loose my sanity. I knew I’d let cities burn to the ground before I’d ever let him leave my side. So I settled for a deeply connected friendship and tightly woven weaponized partnership. We had become so nsync we were an unstoppable pair. Whether it was hand to hand combat, on the ground rescue mission, arms fight or aviation. We were an undefeatable match.  I remember how we started, as a top class competitor's battle for top dog position in all battle areas. Sometimes he was number one and number I, number two, the rolls flipping back and forth. The need to bring him into submission to prove I was number one slowly transformed into a deep sensual tension I often just barely could keep from erupting. It was at the year and a half mark I noticed my change of feeling towards him starting to grow on me and my heart became soft for him. I hated myself for it but I just couldn't control what my heart wanted. All I could do was mask it for as long as I could. There were 10 months left in his 2 year program here with me. I hated to even think about how fast the time would go. Once the two years were up he would be required to return to his home country to complete his military duties there. I knew he wanted the life of a warrior, that he would more than likely retire as a high ranking commander. I knew I would not be continuing once my 10 years were up but I wasn’t sure what I would be doing career wise afterwards with my life, but the thing I knew I wanted the most was a family. But right now I didn't care, I just wanted to enjoy the time I had left with Tae Hyung. 

THE Warriors BALL:

It was my first time attending the ball because normally I would hang with the other few aviators who were not interested. I was interested but because Tae never went I also stayed behind to spend time with him. But this time I wanted to go and I told him I wanted to give it a try and suggested he should come too, just once. Last minute he texted me telling me he’d be there. 

I tried not to appear as if I was waiting for someone because I knew there were others who suspected I might have feelings or teased behind our backs because of how well we worked together. The rummer was if we were not fucking then we were telepathic. No one ever said the rummer to are faces because we both would not stand for that talk as high ranking aviators.  However, I often wondered if he could see through my front and if he did he never treated me differently but tonight I was determined to overcome the only fear I had. The fear of facing his rejection because tonight I was determined to make a move. I was going to risk it all and I wasn’t going to waste a moment longer. I wanted him and tonight I would do whatever it took to have him. 

I had downed a few more drinks to make sure I was feeling more confident. When I arrived I felt awkward because I never dressed in the type of outfits that other aviator women wore who were more bold and in touch with their femininity. This was a bit for me and a fellow female aviator helped me select something sexy and elegant. It was uncomfortable because I felt exposed and noticed how my fellow male soldiers eyed me up and down wherever I walked. I needed air. I walked to the balcony that connects to the formal hall. I wanted to be out of view of the entry to ensure Tae Hyung didn't find me looking longley at the entrance waiting for him. I leaned over the railing and allowed the air to caress my face as I gazed down the side of the 20 story building.

“Did you get tired of waiting for whatever loser who asked you to be their date because they thought it would help them get between your legs?” Damn, was he here this whole time I wondered. I took a deep breath and turned to face him. He looked fucking beautiful. No, no, he looked like a fucking sex god in a well taylored suit. I swallowed, feeling heat  rising at my core. Every cell of my body wanted him. 

“Here, I know it’s your favorite”. I grabbed the drink from his hand barely holding back a gasp from just the sight of him. I tried to think of something witty to say. Finally my brain started to work. I observed his gaze on me, his eyes blazing like burning amber, they looked almost hungry.

“First of all no losers are allowed the privilege to explore any part of me clothed or unclothed. And second….” I took a moment to down the drink, my eyes connecting with his as I watched his eyes raked my body head to toe.

“The only man I want between my legs tonight…” I blinked slowly as I closed the foot between us and grabbed his whiskey on the rocks from his hand, throwing my head back, finishing his drink in one go. I placed the glass down on a table to the left of where we stood, never breaking eye contact as I leaned forward ghosting my lips over the shell of his ear, stop being a coward and say it, I heard my heart speak. 

“Is. yoo–”. I was forced speechless as I felt his hand grip my hair yanking my head back while turning it towards him crashing his lips against mine. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue dove in entangling itself with mine in a sensual duel. I felt as if I was on fire by the heat that emanated from the two of us. I wrapped my arms around his neck, the fingers of one of my hands weaving in with his soft curls drawing him into me. I felt his grip on my hair soften as his other hand ran down the curve of my hip and ended with a rough grasp of my ass. I could feel him pressing my body hard into his chest smashed together and our lower parts just not close enough. I needed him and now. I could feel myself growing wetter as our moans melded into one. I’d let him fuck me right out here on the balcone. I had wanted  him for over 2 years and won't dare let this chance to feel him inside me tonight go.

I moaned in frustration when he broke our kiss but was pleased at his lips' relocation to my neck. I felt the tingle of pleasure surging through my body as he feasted sucking and licking at my neck. I whimpered with desire and could feel how wet I was between my legs. He guided us towards the wall of the balcony and away from the entrance back into the main hall, keeping us in the shadows where no one could see us. The cool touch of the wall against my shoulders was refreshing as my body burned with deep desire for him as I arched my back. He pulled away from my neck, his eyes taking in my face, his lips pink, wet, and flushed, I couldn't help myself but draw him into me. This time he led me in a sensual, slow wet kiss that had my knees buckling. He drew me closer to him, his hand groping my ass even harder. I thrusted my hips into him feeling just how hard his cock was as he ment my hip thrusting with his grinding. I wanted out of this fucking dress that was in the way of my feeling his skin. He continued to guide this slow sensual pace of our tongues caressing one another as he parted my legs with his knee, the slit of my gown widening. He placed his knee right on my heated wet center as he grinded into me. I was coming undone. I reached down grabbed my dress to split the slite then guided his hand from my ass to my throbbing dripping cunt, pressing his finger to my lace. 

“Touch me please. Please Tae–. I need you.”. He immediately began rubbing the pads of his fingers firmly against my wet clothed cunt. 

“Y/n, yo–ur so fuc—king wet. What a fucking sl—ut you are for m—e. I bet— you—d let me fu—ck you right—here—and n—ow…” he enunciated between his mouth marking, bruising my neck as I rutted against his fingers which had long since move my panties to the side, inserting two long digits in and out. The sensual squelching sounds of his fingers against the wet walls of my pussy and the sounds of his tongue lavishing my neck left me weak in the knees. 

“Ye–ss, Ta–e, you can fu—ck me any–where, go ahead—fu-ck me..ha–ve me… uhgh–”. He pressed harder into me feeling my body go weightless as my legs began to give out. I was in pure bliss and could feel my orgasm approaching, it was becoming difficult to muffle my moans. He takes my mouth once again as he picks up the pace with his fingers. I do everything I can not to cry out, I grab on to his wrist. He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against mine, his fingers slowing down in pace, my legs quivering. 

“Fuck. I can’t stand not hearing you. I want to hear scream my fucking name”. He grunts and pulls my head back harder.  I whimper and squeeze my pussy against his fingers.

“Please, tae, I need you. Don’t stop…”.

“No. I want to hear you, I want to tear this fuck dress of your body and eat you… come…lets get the fuck out here…”. He releases my hair, his fingers still deep in my pussy, his eyes staring deeply into mine. 

“I’m going to take you to a place where I can fuck you until you can’t walk and were you can scream my name. And, I’m going to give you the best fucking orgasim of your life that no one will ever be able to compare, ever.” he continues pumping his fingers in and out, edging my orgasm. 

“That’s what you want isn’t it my fucking slut”. He bites into my neck sucking as a cord snaps inside me and I cream all over his fingers grunting as my body seizes against him. He releases my neck and loses his hold on me as his eye bore into mine with such intensity. He brings his fingers that are drenched in the juices from my organsm into his mouth licking and slurping them clean. He comes for my lips again, I moan tasting myself on his tongue, he releaseins my lip with pop. My chest heaving.

“Come, YN there is going to be plenty more of this, I’m not done with you yet.”. My mind was in a haze of pure bliss, all I could do was smile in my buzzed fucked out state, buzze and high off my orgasim. I’d fucking follow him anywhere.  “Yes, sir.” I fixed my dress as much as possible as he took my hand in his and briskly walked out the front entrance. I couldn’t wait for his dick to be balls deep in any place in my body though I could receive him.

Part 2 coming out soon!

[baileypie-writes]

can you please do a kawarino x cure reader so kawarino didn't know that his girlfriend is a precure and the reader didn't know that kawarino is a villain till she confesses that she a precure at that moment kawarino is like I'm quieting being a villain just for you because he love the reader that much and yeah he's now on the good side (this is like if he's redeemed and all because of the reader and of course the reader is older than the other cures)

A/N ~ Sure! Hope you enjoy!

~As Serious as my Love for You~

Kawarino x Fem!Pretty Cure!Reader

~~~💚~~~💚~~~💚~~~

Fandom: Yes! Pretty Cure 5

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Female, Pretty Cure

Relationship: Romantic

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 1,526

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend, Kawarino, find out that you’ve been on opposite teams without knowing. Unexpectedly, Kawarino drops everything to be with you.

Warnings: Coco and Nuts, possibly OOC Kawarino?, minor injury and blood(Reader), mentions of marriage.

~Masterlists~

~Yes! Pretty Cure 5 Masterlist~

~~~💚~~~💚~~~💚~~~

It’s not easy being the only adult on the Pretty Cure team. The difference in strength and maturity can be difficult to deal with. You can’t keep count on how many times you’ve had to split up arguments between the girls. It’s a regular occurrence. And the amount that has happened during battles is just ridiculous. Sometimes, it feels like you’re more of their mother than their teammate. If only Coco and Nuts were more help.

It’s even more exhausting having to balance your job, being a Pretty Cure and a part time “babysitter”. You don’t have much free time. And having to keep the Pretty Cure thing a secret just makes things more difficult. Especially having to keep it from your boyfriend.

You love your boyfriend, Kawarino, dearly. You met him almost a year ago, and you’ve never been happier. Sometimes, he seems to be the only thing keeping you sane. Your relationship has gotten pretty serious. The topic of marriage has come up a few times.

You two have lots in common. You both have busy lives, busy jobs, and feel as though you’re the only ones taking things seriously. It was that relatability that got you so close. So you can’t help but feel a pit of guilt in your stomach for keeping such a big secret from him. But Coco and Nuts insist on not telling anybody. And you know Nuts would kill you if you did. So you’ve kept it in. But as more time passes, it gets more unbearable.

~~~~

“Nozomi! How could you forget to do your homework again!” Rin scolded. “I mean, c‘mon! We hang out with your teacher every day! He’s literally here right now!”

“Oh boy. Here we go again.” You thought. You feel as though you’re the main character of “Groundhog Day” sometimes, due to how much of the same things happen every day. You rub your temples as you, yet again, have to listen to Rin and Karen trying to convince Nozomi to be more responsible.

Suddenly, your alarm went off from your watch. You internally cheer, thanking it for saving you. “Well!” You started loudly, cutting off Nozomi mid-whine. “I gotta go. Be good, guys! And Nozomi, get your homework done!” Nozomi sighed, defeated. Meanwhile, Rin folded her arms, and turned her head up in victory.

As you headed down the stairs, you heard another set of feet trailing behind you. “Where are you going, (name).” A voice, who you recognized to be Komachi’s, asked.

“I have a date with my boyfriend. It’s been a while, so I really don’t want to be late.” You responded, watching your steps, as to not trip.

“Are you sure you’re in the right state to go? You got hurt during the fight earlier.” Karen said from the top of the staircase. She was correct. The Kowaina pushed you down hard, and you scraped your upper left arm pretty bad. You glanced down to it, the texture of the bandage slightly visible from under your sleeve.

“I’m fine, really.” You reassured her. “I just want to see him.” You flipped open your phone, and dialed his number(remember, this is 2007). As you waited for him to pick up, you heard someone call your name. It was Nuts. He gave you a cold stare from behind the counter.

“Don’t tell him.” He said sternly. He was referring to Pretty Cure. He knew you wanted to tell your boyfriend, and wouldn’t allow it.

“I won’t. Don’t worry.” You said, smiling gently. He gave you a look; like he didn’t believe you. And honestly, you didn’t know if you believed yourself. So you just left Nut’s House. Right when you stepped out the door, Kawarino picked up.

“Hey! Just letting you know that I’m on my way!” You told him. You headed towards your destination as you talked with him on the phone.

~~~~

You and Kawarino had gone to a crepe stand, and each got one. As always, Kawarino insisted on paying. He paid for you every time you went on a date. It made you wonder how much money he has. You don’t even know exactly where he works. It must be somewhere important, as the only thing he says about it is him being the secretary. But you know it’s rude to ask a man’s salary. So you decided to just keep the curiosity to yourself.

You found a bench near a lake, and sat down next to each other. You enjoyed your crepe, while Kawarino just sat. He had a banana crepe, but almost never took a bite. You guessed he was just too lost in thought to eat.

Noticing his eyes were open, you snuck a glance at them. Kawarino’s eyes are usually closed for whatever reason. But around you, he seems to allow them to open. So you get to see their beautiful, golden-yellow hue. You guessed your glance wasn’t all that sneaky, because he caught you staring.

“What is it, my dear?” He asked, in his signature formal tone.

You blushed, embarrassed to have been caught. “Nothing. It’s just your eyes.”

“Pardon?” He tilted his head to the side. He seemed to not know what you were talking about.

“Your eyes. They’re usually closed. But they’re not now. I was just looking at them.”

Kawarino chuckled. “Oh? I never noticed that. I guess you’re the only person my eyes deem worthy of opening for.”

You laughed. “Oh stop!” You said playfully, lightly smacking his shoulder. Kawarino usually doesn’t like touch, but he bares with it for you. But it was a barely noticeable wince from you, and you grabbing your arm that made his smile drop.

“What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing serious. Just hurt my arm a bit.” You said, trying to brush it off.

Kawarino gently took your left hand. “Let me see.” You froze, and he took that as an okay to inspect your injury. He rolled up your sleeve, and revealed the bandage. A bit of red blood was visible from it seeping through.

His eyes closed again. “What could’ve possibly caused this? This was clearly no minor accident.” While his voice was calm, you could tell he was upset and concerned.

“I- uh.” You attempt to think of an excuse. But nothing came to mind that could’ve made such a bad injury.

“(name).” He said sternly. “This is not the first time this has happened. Is something going on with you?”

You started shaking a bit. That’s when you decided that you couldn’t hold it in anymore. With a big, deep breath, you let go. “Yeah…”

Kawarino waited for your explanation silently.

“Have you ever heard of the Pretty Cure?”

Kawarino flinched. His eyes shot open, but it wasn’t a pleasant view this time. They were wide open, and it was honestly kind of scary. “Pretty Cure?” He repeated your words, almost under his breath. You took notice on how his hold on your hand slightly loosened.

Nodding your head, you continued. “Yeah. Well… I’m one of them. I get hurt a lot because we’re fighting these creatures called ‘Kowaina’. They’re being summoned by this evil organization, Nightmare. They’re trying to steal this thing called the Dream Collet, and-“

“(name).” Kawarino cut you off. His grasp on your hand tightened again. You looked back into his eyes. They were normal now. “I am the secretary of the Nightmare company.”

You gasped lightly, in utter disbelief. This whole time, you’ve been fighting on the opposite side of your own boyfriend? How have you not realized it? You were terrified. What was he going to do? Was he going to break up with you? Or maybe worse, demand a battle? Maybe he’d turn you in to the company. You didn’t know what to think.

Kawarino raised your hand to his lips, and he kissed your knuckles. “I apologize.” He said softly. You were so confused. Even more scared from not knowing what was going to happen next.

“I never intended to hurt you. But this whole time, I sent out my coworkers to do whatever means necessary to obtain the Dream Collet. All of your injuries, including this one, are my own fault.” You were shocked. He was never this open with his feelings, ever. It was almost unnerving.

“My dedication to the company has always used to be my top priority. I took great pride in it. But I now see nothing to be proud of if my actual top priority gets hurt because of its values and goals.” He reached into his suit pocket, and pulled out a small, white card. You read the silver text on it. It said “Nightmare Co.”. It was a business card. Kawarino folded it in half, then in half again. With a skillful toss, he managed to get it into the trash can across the bench.

“Kawarino?” You called to him, wondering if he was actually doing what you thought.

He turned to you, smiling softly. His eyes opened bit. “I suppose I have to search for a new job.”

“Oh my gosh. Are you serious?”

He grabbed both of your hands. “As my love for you.” He then pulled you in for a kiss, which you happily accepted. Kawarino knows he could be in serious trouble. But he’s not worried. After all, he has a superhero as a girlfriend.

~~~💚~~~💚~~~💚~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[seawardboundsammy]

Break and Hide if you’re up for it!

I'll do this one with my hungry scar art thief step, Thistle! (and also my MoTW character Aster so guys who are in that campaign dont look!)

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

thistle is obsessed with being human and surrounds himself in art and other people's emotion in hope that they'll fill the hole in his chest (he romances herald for that sweet sweet emotional run). but sometimes he reads some poetry or sees a painting that makes him feel. an intense nothing. like white noise in his chest that makes his fingertips buzz. thistle's breakdowns arent dramatic or big, theyre just him sat staring at the wall, hands limp at his sides, like a porcelain doll or a puppet without its strings. i think herald's seen him get pretty bad but not fully broken.

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

thistle has a series of fracture scars over his face from hb where his skull well. Shattered. and it makes him look like a cracked porcelain doll (are you noticing a theme?) that he actively covers with makeup, which none of my other steps do. he hates how fake it makes him feel and hates how it marks him and much of his nightmares are filled with the idea that there is nothing at all under those cracks.

now aster! this is serious guys dont look this is big backstory spoilers! literally everyone expect those like. four people is fine.

break:

this is kinda the main thing of their backstory where they used to be a monster hunter and defender of their small town while running themself ragged and one day they didnt judge a drop correctly and shattered their left ankle and they got laid up in the hospital and all the stress and pain and guilt over oh my god did i kill someone?? set in. the only people who have seen them completely broken down are those doctors and the stars.

hide:

anything about what they like and their past they keep on the down low and they also are SUPER off the grid. they have. a flip phone that about 7 people (including their new team of 3 others in the game) have the number of. they are pretty surly and gruff and have very few friends (NONE. NONE up until the game starts). theyll be pretty open with their magic with other people in the supernatural "scene" but they do also have an old reputation from their active days that lingers.

[dedicatedprepweb]

USMLE Tutoring for Non-Native English Speakers: Breaking Down Medical Language

Learning medicine is hard. Learning medicine in a language that is not your first language is even harder. Many smart doctors and medical students come to the United States to take the USMLE (United States Medical Licensing Examination). This test checks if you know enough to be a doctor in America. But the test uses special medical English that can be confusing.

How Words Work Together in Medical Language

Word Friends: Medical Collocations

Words like to hang out with certain other words. We call these word teams "collocations." In medical English, knowing these word teams helps a lot.

For example, we say "take medicine" not "eat medicine." We say "high fever" not "tall fever." These word pairs come up often in the USMLE step 1 tutor.

Common medical collocations include:

perform an examination

administer medication

present with symptoms

develop complications

When you know which words go together, your medical English sounds more natural.

Word Groups: N-grams in Medical Text

N-grams are groups of words that often appear together. An "N" stands for a number. So a 2-gram (also called bigram) is two words together, like "chest pain." A 3-gram (trigram) might be "acute myocardial infarction."

The USMLE uses many common medical N-grams. Learning these helps you read faster and understand better.

For example, when you see "shortness of breath," your brain should recognize this whole phrase at once, not as separate words.

Words That Jump: Skip-grams

Sometimes important words aren't right next to each other. Skip-grams are word patterns with spaces between them.

For instance, in "The patient complained of pain in the lower abdomen," the skip-gram "complained...pain" tells you something important, even though the words aren't side by side.

On the USMLE, being able to connect these separated words helps you understand what a case is really about.

Common Language Challenges on the USMLE

Medical Words With Double Meanings

Some words mean one thing in everyday English but something different in medicine.

For example:

"Positive" usually means good, but a "positive test result" can be bad news

"Acute" normally means smart, but in medicine it means sudden or severe

"Present" isn't just a gift; it means "to show symptoms"

When reading USMLE questions, make sure you know the medical meaning.

Tricky Word Families

Many medical terms come from the same root but have different endings and meanings:

hypertension (high blood pressure)

hypertensive (relating to high blood pressure)

hypertensive crisis (dangerous spike in blood pressure)

Understanding how words grow from the same root helps you guess meanings of new words.

Reading Strategies for Non-Native English Speakers

Context Clues

The words around a hard word often tell you what it means. This is called "context."

For example: "The patient exhibits cyanosis, with blue discoloration of the lips and fingers."

Even if you don't know "cyanosis," the words after it explain it's something that makes lips and fingers blue.

Word Maps

Drawing word maps connects ideas in your mind. Put the main idea in the middle, then draw lines to related words.

For heart failure, your map might include:

symptoms (shortness of breath, swelling)

causes (heart attack, high blood pressure)

treatments (medications, lifestyle changes)

This helps you see how medical concepts connect.

Common Question Types and Language Patterns

"Most Likely" Questions

The USMLE loves to ask what is "most likely" or "most appropriate." These words tell you to pick the best answer, not just a correct one.

For example: "Which of the following is the most likely diagnosis?" "What is the most appropriate next step in management?"

When you see "most," look for the best fit, not just any possible answer.

"Except" Questions

Questions with "except" or "least likely" flip what you're looking for. You need to find the wrong answer.

For example: "All of the following are risk factors for diabetes mellitus EXCEPT:"

Be extra careful with these questions. Your brain might accidentally look for the right answer out of habit.

Tips for Test Day Success

Time Management With Reading Speed

Non-native English speakers often read more slowly. Plan for this by practicing timed questions.

A helpful trick: Read the last line of the question first to know what they're asking. Then read the whole case with that goal in mind.

Key Phrase Translation

Make a list of common USMLE phrases and what they mean in simple terms:

"The patient presents with..." = The patient has these symptoms "On physical examination..." = When the doctor checked the patient "Laboratory studies reveal..." = The test results show

Having these translations ready in your mind speeds up reading.

Building Medical English Skills Day by Day

Daily Reading Practice

Read a short medical case every day. Circle words you don't know. Look them up. Then read the case again.

Medical journals have case reports that are similar to USMLE questions. Reading these improves your speed and understanding.

Word Growth

Learn 5-10 new medical terms daily. For each word:

Write its meaning

Use it in a sentence

Find words that often go with it

Think of other words in the same family

This grows your medical vocabulary step by step.

Speaking Practice

Many non-native English speakers understand more than they can say. But speaking improves all language skills.

Explain medical cases out loud, even if just to yourself. This builds confidence and helps you think in medical English.

Finding the Right USMLE Tutor

What Makes a Good Tutor for Non-Native Speakers

The best tutors for non-native English speakers:

Speak clearly and can adjust their speech speed

Explain terms in different ways

Have experience with international students

Understand language challenges

Are patient with questions

Look for these qualities when choosing help.

Questions to Ask Potential Tutors

When finding a tutor, ask:

"Have you worked with students from my country before?"

"How do you help with medical terminology?"

"Can you provide materials that focus on medical language?"

"What strategies do you suggest for reading faster?"

Good tutors will have specific answers, not just general advice.

Success Stories

Many non-native English speakers pass the USMLE with high scores. They do this by turning language from a barrier into a strength.

One doctor from Brazil said: "I studied English medical terms as if they were a special code. Breaking the code became fun, not just work."

A student from Japan shared: "I watched American medical shows with subtitles. This taught me how doctors really talk."

These students found ways to make learning medical English interesting, not just hard work.

Moving Forward With Confidence

The USMLE tests medical knowledge, not perfect English. You don't need to sound like a native speaker. You just need to understand and answer correctly.

With regular practice, the right learning tools, and maybe some help from a good tutor, you can overcome the language challenges of this exam.

[starfeedback]

How 360 Degree Appraisals Redefine Performance Reviews

Think back to your last performance review. Was it awkward? One-sided? Or maybe it felt like a formality—a box to tick off before getting back to "real" work.

Traditional appraisals often leave employees feeling misunderstood, undervalued, or stuck. But what if we could flip the script? What if feedback wasn’t just top-down—but all around?

That’s exactly what 360 degree appraisals aim to do.

They’re not just a trend—they’re a smarter, more human way to measure performance, develop talent, and build trust inside teams. So let’s dive into what they are, why they work, and how to use them to fuel real growth in your organization.

What Are 360 Degree Appraisals?

At their core, 360 degree appraisals are a holistic performance review method that gathers feedback from all directions: managers, peers, subordinates, and even customers or external partners. The person being evaluated also assesses themselves, creating a well-rounded picture.

This multi-source approach paints a fuller, more balanced view of someone’s strengths, behaviors, and areas for development.

It’s like seeing yourself in a mirror—surrounded by others holding up their own mirrors, too. What you get is clarity, honesty, and sometimes a few surprises.

Why 360 Degree Appraisals Are Gaining Ground?

Traditional reviews have their place, but they often fall short—especially in dynamic, collaborative workplaces where leadership is shared, not siloed.

Here’s why 360 degree appraisals are becoming the go-to method for forward-thinking organizations:

 Enhance Self-Awareness

By comparing self-ratings to those from others, employees gain insights into how their behaviors are perceived—not just how they intend to show up.

Promote a Feedback Culture

When feedback comes from multiple sources, it becomes a natural part of work culture. People begin to expect it—and value it.

Uncover Blind Spots

We all have them. Whether it’s a communication habit or a leadership gap, 360 reviews shine a light where it’s needed most.

Support Development, Not Just Evaluation

Because the feedback focuses on behavior and impact, 360 degree appraisals guide meaningful professional growth—not just check-the-box performance metrics.

What Does a 360 Degree Appraisal Actually Look Like?

360 degree appraisals isn’t just a survey. It’s an experience that’s intentional, structured, and supportive. Here's what it usually includes:

Feedback is gathered around defined competencies—like communication, collaboration, decision-making, leadership, and adaptability. Respondents use a numerical scale to rate behaviors (e.g., 1 to 5 or 1 to 7).

These add nuance to the numbers. This is where stories and specific examples come through—the kind of feedback that inspires change. After data is collected, it’s aggregated into visual reports with graphs, averages, and side-by-side comparisons (self vs. others). These help identify alignment—and gaps.

Conclusion:

In a world moving faster than ever, self-awareness is a superpower—and feedback is the fuel.

360 degree appraisals give people the opportunity to press pause, look around, and ask: How am I doing? How am I being experienced? And what can I do better?

Not from a place of fear or evaluation—but from a place of curiosity, care, and courage.

Because when we know better, we lead better. And when we invite feedback from all directions, we move forward with a 360-degree view—and a whole lot more wisdom.

[jonathankatwhatever]

It is turning 17 Sept 2024. Not sure where to begin. The cat wants his head scratched. He actually wants food for the night.

One lesson of age is that you hurt yourself without doing anything. I hurt my neck, and it’s been getting worse, which means it’s partially delayed onset, which indicates a strain with some cramping. That suggests it’s a response to my being able to sleep on my stomach, and being able to turn my head to the right. And that fits to the changes in my bearing, which I think summarizes by saying my bearings are shifting perspective. I used to think that shifting to the right meant to my right side. I didn’t realize that was empowering the left side to act from behind the right. That literally flips me over the dividing line between the perspectives. Isn’t that cool?

I did some stretches while walking. I have come to believe a main reason in the NFL’s lack of scoring is the lack of pocket passing games. When they drop back, they look to play extenders, and that doesn’t allow the offense to develop a pass blocking rhythm or the team communication necessary to achieve that kind of consistency. Also, extended plays work sometimes, but they often have bad results as well. I’m sure someone has done numbers comparing extended to non-extended plays.

An example the other way is Ben Roethlisberger. He was known for holding the ball until a receiver got open, no matter what. That seemed to encourage the receivers to keep working, which made the plays. What is the message when the QB takes off a lot? Are the WR’s encouraged to get open or are they made too much into spectators?

But the idea is that you might as well work out because you will hurt yourself doing nothing much. The reason is that as you age you develop pathways which become your symmetries, the ways in which you can act iteratively, and these become embedded in your fascia. Your body aligns to hold the positions which access the symmetries. I make a habit of breaking up the fascia and finding positions which are true poses because those have the highest symmetry, those being the ideal iterations.

And that actually connects to turbulence, which is one of the big topics for the last few days, though barely mentioned. I had a clear vision of how it worked: began by thinking of super slo-mo, as mentioned before, and then realizing that amount of slowing is equivalent to the processing which actually occurs but which is almost not visible in our experience because it happens so fast. A trained eye can slow down the action, but that’s about focusing within the gsSpace, not processing more of the detail. Is that clear? Focus within the grid box identifies the key points important to a trained observer. They act like key frames in animation.

So, if we slo-mo, we’re slowing all the detail down by the same factor, which means we haven’t actually brought out the detail which really does happen too fast to see it in detail. An example is we can watch kayaks navigate rapids but can’t make out much detail of the movement of the water. That detail is lost unless you focus on a relatively small spot or space within the accessible venues, within the applicable grid box.

This is getting weird in my head. No warranties of whether this is correct or not. One oddity is that we can map a box to a square, and that maps coordinates in an idealized grid to and from the higher dimensional versions, like a grid box. Isn’t that a quaternion field relationship? I mean there are points in projection which represent the grid as boxes hidden behind the grid.

And of course this all maps to a line. Why not? It’s all uncountable.

Need some sleep. The car is much nicer than expected.

[firstscn]

"Hey, you LIKE me, whether I'm being loud or not." Alex isn't insecure about that, he knows he's got a vibrant personality, something he gets from both his parents for a change, and he's not afraid to show it. It's gotten him to where he is now, too, captain of the lacrosse team and lead on the debate team, top of his class. Well, mostly anyway, and if he's being honest then studying is what gets him THERE, when he manages.

He takes the jacket from Henry and slips into it with a grin, before getting into the car. Alex isn't BIG on fancy cars, but this is a nice model, even he can tell, "Did you bring this over from home?" He asks between giving the other directions to the restaurant, and feeling his stomach do that little flip when Henry tells him that he'll be attending more games.

"Well you'll definitely need some fan gear then," Alex teases as Henry opens the car door for him, his lip curved into a grin. "We could get you a shirt, or maybe put some face paint on you. Mostly people do school colors, or sometimes a player's number. Which would have to be MINE, obviously, or I'd be terribly disappointed," He holds the door open for Henry as they step into the restaurant, some of the team already gathered around a big table, and Alex squeezes into one of the booths, Zack and his girlfriend on one side, making sure Henry's on his other.

They eat and talk about the game, and some of the guys ask Henry about England and whether the cutlery at Buckingham Palace is really golden, but it's all in good faith, and Alex feels...oddly HAPPY, almost absent mindedly pressing his leg against Henry's under the table.

   Henry feels a flustered sort of bubbling energy inside of him when Alex greets him with that smile, it’s blinding like the sun and he doesn’t know how he’s managed to get into his orbit. “Hello,” Henry says to the team, feeling shier than he intended. One would think a prince would be used to meeting new people, but that was different here and they really didn’t see him as royalty here either, which honestly, he didn’t mind much.

   Alex’s friends seem nice though, he imagined they’re friends since they’re all familiar with him. “They don’t seem too bad. Maybe a tad loud, but then, you fit right in, don’t you?” It’s another tease, not one that’s meant to hurt him. Though maybe he shouldn’t have said it, too late to take it back now though. Henry swallowed nervously and this time realized he was fiddling with Alex’s jacket again.

   “Sure, just point the way and I can get us there.” Then, before he forgot, Henry held out the jacket to him and said, “I kept this nice and safe for you, see … perfect condition. Not that much could happen to a jacket in a hour.” He was rambling a little, but ducked into the car, gesturing for Alex to do on the other side. Being the British car that it was, the drivers side was opposite to most American cars. And he’d been allowed to bring it so long as he drove on the proper side of the road here and he’d had no problem with it.

   As they took off, Henry said, “It was great! You guys clearly know what you’re doing. Actually, it reminded me a bit of rugby, though I think a few of the rules might be different. Perhaps I’ll have to come watch more of these games, hm?” It got him out of the apartment and got Shaan off of his back about keeping to himself. When they arrived to the restaurant, Henry parked the car and got out and went over to let Alex out too, but realized he probably didn’t need to do that, but oh well. He opened the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets in the hope to avoid showing how nervous he was.