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maxlearnmicrolearningplatform · 4 months

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Mastering the Art of Writing for Microlearning: The Power of Active Voice

Writing style plays a pivotal role in the effectiveness of microlearning lessons. Despite its significance, it remains one of the most misunderstood design principles. A brilliant concept can easily be overshadowed by poor writing style. Thus, writing demands conscious effort to shine. It's an art form that requires nurturing through the right framework and consistent practice.

The challenge amplifies when crafting content for microlearning scenarios. With just a few minutes to convey your message, every word must pack a punch. Your content needs to be slick, informal, and impactful to captivate learners in a short span.

Understanding the Impact of Writing Style

Writing style permeates all forms of microlearning content, whether it's a video, podcast, animation, voiceover, short simulation, or infographic. Each element contributes to the overall learning experience, influencing engagement and knowledge retention.

The Essence of a Smart Script

Crafting a smart script is essential for delivering effective microlearning content. A smart script is concise, clear, and purposeful, guiding learners through key concepts seamlessly. It distills complex information into digestible chunks, ensuring maximum comprehension within a limited timeframe. Moreover, a well-written script sets the tone for the entire learning experience, establishing rapport with learners and fostering a conducive environment for knowledge acquisition.

Embracing the Power of Active Voice

Among the myriad elements of writing style, the use of active voice stands out as a fundamental principle in microlearning content development. Active voice infuses energy and clarity into sentences, enhancing the overall impact on learners. Unlike passive voice, which tends to obscure the subject and action, active voice emphasizes agency and directness, making the message more engaging and compelling.

Unlocking the Potential of Active Voice

Active voice transforms mundane sentences into dynamic narratives, driving learner engagement and comprehension. Let's explore how embracing active voice can elevate your microlearning content:

1. Clarity and Directness

Active voice emphasizes the performer of the action, making it clear who is doing what. This clarity eliminates ambiguity and ensures that learners grasp the intended message immediately. By stating the subject upfront, active voice facilitates smoother information processing, allowing learners to focus on understanding the

content rather than deciphering the sentence structure.

2. Engagement and Impact

Active voice injects vitality and immediacy into the narrative, capturing learners' attention from the outset. The active construction of sentences creates a sense of momentum, propelling learners forward in their learning journey. This heightened engagement fosters a deeper connection with the material, leading to improved knowledge retention and application.

3. Conciseness and Efficiency

Active voice enables you to convey information more efficiently by eliminating unnecessary words and phrases. By prioritizing the performer of the action, active voice streamlines communication, ensuring that every word serves a purpose. In the context of microlearning, where brevity is paramount, this succinctness is invaluable for maximizing the impact of each learning moment.

4. Empowerment and Agency

Active voice empowers learners by highlighting their role as active participants in the learning process. By emphasizing their ability to take action and effect change, active voice instills a sense of ownership and responsibility. This empowerment motivates learners to engage more deeply with the content, driving self-directed learning and skill acquisition.

5. Consistency and Cohesion

Consistency in writing style is crucial for maintaining coherence and cohesion across microlearning modules. By consistently using active voice, you create a unified narrative voice that guides learners seamlessly from one module to the next. This coherence enhances the overall learning experience, reinforcing key concepts and facilitating knowledge transfer.

Practical Strategies for Writing in Active Voice

Now that we've explored the benefits of active voice, let's delve into some practical strategies for incorporating it into your microlearning content:

1. Focus on the Performer

Identify the performer of the action in each sentence and position them as the subject. This ensures that the emphasis remains on the entity driving the action, enhancing clarity and engagement.

2. Use Strong Verbs

Choose strong, action-oriented verbs that convey precisely what the performer is doing. Strong verbs add vibrancy and energy to the sentence, amplifying its impact on the reader.

3. Avoid Nominalizations

Nominalizations occur when verbs are transformed into nouns, weakening the impact of the sentence. Instead of using nominalizations, opt for active verbs that convey the action directly, maintaining the momentum of the narrative.

4. Keep Sentences Concise

Keep sentences concise and to the point, focusing on conveying information efficiently. Avoid unnecessary words and phrases that detract from the clarity and impact of the message.

5. Review and Revise

Regularly review and revise your microlearning content to ensure that active voice is consistently employed. Pay attention to sentence structure and verb choices, refining your writing to maximize engagement and comprehension.

Conclusion

In the realm of microlearning, writing style is a powerful tool for shaping the learning experience. By embracing active voice, you can transform your content from ordinary to extraordinary, capturing learners' attention and driving meaningful engagement. The use of active voice enhances clarity, engagement, conciseness, empowerment, and cohesion, making it an indispensable asset in your microlearning toolkit. By applying practical strategies for writing in active voice, you can create compelling microlearning content that resonates with learners and delivers lasting impact.

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peachesofteal · 10 months

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Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss.

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body.

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again.

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth.

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.

I’m here now.

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief.

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you.

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently.

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl.

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly.

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze.

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family.

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive.

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say,

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.”

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another.

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours.

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out.

“Right. Okay.”

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him.

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own.

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth.

“We will.”

#light on #peaches asks #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #peaches writes

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obscurevideogames · 1 year

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Tumblr’s Core Prodct Stratgy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on trying to keep our sinking ship afloat for as long as possible. This means desperately trying to copy every new fly-by-night social media app that some multi-billionaire sh*t out during their daily Peloton routine. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. If you find the things we say here worrisome, please understand that is our exact intention. You've outgrown our target demographic. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

The Diagnosis

It's lookin' pretty bad y'all!

After somehow losing hundreds of thousands of users during the great pr0n purge of 2018, we started to wonder if anything could be done to get back to where we were. We even brought in a management consultant who charged us a ridiculous amount of money. It would make you sick if you knew how much, but we got a few nice meals out of it at least. Anyhow, we handed this guy the app, and HE HAD NO IDEA HOW TO USE IT! It was f*cking hilarious! But suddenly it all clicked -- our users are a bunch of stupid idiots who can't even do basic arithmetic. I mean, they spend all day looking at their phones, so what do you expect?

Tumblr’s best feature is its unique content and vibrant communities. But who cares, right? We're just as happy getting traffic from people sh*t-posting memes, vague-booking, giving out-of-context hot takes to news events, and spewing whatever random thought is in their head at the moment. Plus that stuff doesn't p*ss off Apple.

To keep this thing going we need new people. And by "people" we mean teenagers, like we used to have back in the good ol' days. Unfortunately we're all in our 40s now, so we have no idea what they want. But teenagers are so cool! Imagine if they talked to us like we're one of them? We're getting hard just thinking about it.

Our Guidng Principls

To make Tumblr cool again, we must address these huge glaring issues.

People can look at a blog without logging in. How is that fair to all the poor schlubs who had to fill out forms to get an account? Also we haven't figured out a way to force ads onto the personalized pages yet. But we swear that's not the main reason.

People can see content they are looking for or linked to. People can keep up with blogs they follow. But the problem with this is, people don't know what they want. We know what they want! We're smart. We wrote this damn site, remember?

Promote posts that incite pointless conversations. Posts that are guaranteed to bait every troll into responding. Isn't that why all your Magat relatives love Facebook so much? We can do that!

P*ss off your content creators in every way possible (see #2).

Create algorithms that throw an unending barrage of irrelevant content in your face. Have you seen Instagram lately? We could do that so easy!!!

The app is slow. The website is slow. Obviously this is because of GIFs. Facebook and Instagram don't allow them, so why should we?

Conclusion

Our mission changes on a day-to-day basis. Right now we're super jealous of all the attention that new Threads thing is getting. We're still not sure what it is, but we're gonna download it after work.

#obscurevideogames

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enkays-den · 3 months

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I have been having so many feelings about the court trial since the livestream on Skizz's birthday.

First off, the court is inherently farcical, which is already so funny you don't NEED to build on it, but they did.

Second, EVERYONE is coming to the courtroom with WILDLY different motivations, which is literally the basis of Shakespearean comedy.

First off, it is the BIGGEST stroke of luck that Joe and Skizz were the only ones available to be lawyers, because I think they are probably the two hermits that could pull of that role best. They both so smart and able to stay on their feet in this absolute KANGAROO COURT

Skizz is the most straightforward. He's playing a classic lawyer, interested in the state of the client, using logic and emotion to build a case. Effective, but for the sake of content, a little dry (not an insult i love skizz i love the lawyer character sm) This IS skizz, though, he knows how to take the MOST effective L possible.

Cleo is mainly here to have fun and make doc suffer, they don't need to win the battle, they just need to win the war, they can throw everyone out the window for the sake of the bit.

Joe as a creator wants to just make everyone have the most intense reaction to what he says possible. He'll help doc win, but it comes at the cost of his pride, which makes cleo happy, but cleo ends up as the losing party. Either way, WE as the audience win.

Doc solely wants to WIN on ALL FRONTS, no matter the cost. He is willing to play along with whatever Joe puts on the table but is also not above taking matters into his own hands and being violent and threatening. He has NO problem admitting he's a madman, but doesn't like being made the fool.

Ultimately, all parties have to play to the whims of Bdubs, who is NOT interested in settling this matter. all he cares about is the spectacle. For all he cares, EVERYONE could lose if it makes the best show.

Perhaps unfortunately for Doc, there was no way he could win. He is either found INNOCENT due to being a baby, or found GUILTY because he's a full-grown man. He had no choice but to roll with Joe's strategy. Joe had no choice but to defend doc, and thus made a situation that was going to be hilarious regardless.

While Skizz's case was perhaps a bit pedestrian and dull, the prosecution gets an advantage that the defense does not: the lure of a good sentence. The MOMENT Cleo put forward the idea that doc's punishment was boredom, it was a closed case. Bdubs knew nothing would make him more angry that being forced to do nothing but try and scavenge a pitiful existence in the middle of nowhere.

Doc has been gloating that no one in the server can truly match his power or that of the hivemind, but he now has to face the worst opponent of them all: his own innate flaws.

I love this server sm

#hermitcraft #docm77 #zombiecleo #bdouble0 #skizzleman #enkay ramble

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 8 months

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(Dark! LC) Aphrodisiacs

Pairing: Dark Luke Castellan x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: Thoughts on how Luke would fix his girlfriend's low libido.

WARNINGS: Noncon; Non-Consensual use of Aphrodisiacs.

Imagine Luke with a girlfriend whose libido is very low.

Blue balls. That’s what he gets for being with you. I mean, what’s the point of having a girlfriend if he can’t even use you to fulfill his needs?

How is the best swordsman in the camp supposed to concentrate on his tasks when all his brain can think of is you?

You and that perfect body of yours. How your jeans cling so perfectly to your ass, outlining the curves of your legs. How cute your shiny lip glossed lips would look around his aching cock, sucking him for all he’s worth.

The fact that you’re never in the mood is upsetting and Luke finds himself more and more distressed as he never gets any action with you.

Sex is rare, maybe one or two times a month - if he’s lucky. Definitely not enough.

Luke gradually gets more pushy but the discomfort on your face as you pull away from him is enough for him to reconsider his strategy.

He doesn’t want to lose you.

He can’t lose you.

But Luke is smart, cunning. He’ll find a solution.

And that solution soon comes in the form of aphrodisiacs. They’re the perfect way to solve this little problem of his.

It’s difficult to get his hands on some of that miraculous powder, but he somehow manages. On the other hand, it’s almost too easy to feed them to you, slipping the powder into your drink.

Luke can’t even stop the satisfied smirk that ascends to his face as you turn into a clingy mess, kissing him and rubbing against him, all hot and bothered.

Unlike you - he doesn’t make you suffer for it, his physical needs makes him forget all about making you wait as a punishment.

You’ll find yourself waking up in the morning, body and pussy completely sore while Luke sleepily kisses your shoulder, mentioning how much he loves you.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #dark luke castellan #dark luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere luke castellan x reader #tw: noncon

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love44lew · 1 month

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f1 men zodiac turn ons/offs

彡drivers lewis hamilton, jenson button, max verstappen charles leclerc, sebastian vettel

彡summary f1 drivers turn ons and offs based on their zodiac

彡genre mostly fluff, some suggestive content

彡note i didn’t really specify the turnoffs but tbh they’d just be the opposite of the turn ons. i did kind of hint them in some places tho!! jenson only got three because this is way overdue and i lost motivation.. :( i will make up for that in the future!! i included my own little headcanons <33 enjoy!!

!!warnings slight suggestive content, mentions of sexual activity, mentions of trauma

—꧁🫧🪼🌊🦈��🐋🫧🐬💦🩵🦭꧂—

lewis ♑︎

intelligence lewis is pretty intelligent himself so it would make sense for him to want someone just as smart if not smarter than him. thats why hes glad he met you because it varies between the two of you. sometimes hes more reasonable, sometimes you but thats just the beautiful contrast of your relationship

authenticity he lives in a world of people who fake perfect lives on social media all the time. its exhausting. thats why when he met you he immediately decided that he needed you in his life. you were one of the few people who didn’t condition yourself to his liking just to please him. if anything, you did everything in your power to NOT please him. like you love wearing purple but when you found out that was his favorite color you quickly switched your palette to reds and pinks just to play with his feelings a little. in the end he didn’t care what you were (or werent) wearing, he just wanted you.

comfortable silence lewis live life is busy and fast, its nice for him to sit down for once without having someone constantly in his ear about the latest incident with max and if a rivalry is comparable to 21’ after one incident. sometimes he just liked the freedom of silence away from all the drama. he doesn’t have to listen or respond to anything; he can just have his music in and do whatever with you in his arms or near him. you also feel the same way. your life isn’t nearly as busy as his but you grew up in a loud house with parents that talk loud or siblings always arguing. sometimes you just wanted to chill somewhere and not have to hear anything but the natural occurring sounds of the outside or the house. thats why lewis is the perfect man, one who knows how to shut up.

lewis is usually a very calm and collected guy. he never raises his voice and he always makes sure to keep his composure pretty well. sometimes when his team is really stressing him out before or after a race where they messed up his strategy once again, it gets hard to stay calm sometimes. when you catch his leg bouncing or him biting his lip really hard you always make sure to place a hand on his thigh for comfort. its reassuring and he can feel that you’re there to comfort him always. you feel the muscles in his legs start to relax as you caress his thigh with your thumb. he places his hand on yours, feeling the warmth as he sits back and relaxes. when you’re making out and you run your hands up his thighs, making him grab your hand and put it on his growing bulge after a while. you love teasing him until hes sick of it, but also he loves the anticipation.

looooong foreplay lewis never enjoyed the idea of a quickie. he understands its a “heat of the moment” thing but why would anyone want to rush the process of sex? every time he has had no foreplay, he never feels fully satisfied and looks back on how he couldve made it more interesting and enjoyable for both parties; so, naturally he loves taking his sweet time on you, testing what makes you react the most. hes taken notice that you enjoy teasing while clothed and kisses on your inner thigh. he likes it when you mark up his body, kissing biting and sucking wherever your lips land. the thing he enjoys most though is pleasing you. he loves your reactions and faces whenever he does something you like or your body begging him to go faster by grinding down on his fingers. or when you beg him to touch you, just gets him going. looking at you be needy and desperate for him makes his cock twitch with anticipation.

max ♌︎

max has always been rewarded for his accomplishments for the simple reason that he was good at everything he did. he received validation from everyone but the one person who it mattered the most from. max’s dad was never one to acknowledge his good doings unless he was winning on a track. even then, after winning his karting championship the first thing his dad said to him was “this is one step closer to formula one.” having you in his life has kind of filled that gap in his heart. you always make sure to praise him and not just in driving but also in little things. you didnt even need to be jumping and screaming every time he was good. a simple ‘thank you’ is enough for him to know you appreciate him. this specific morning you weren’t feeling so hot so while you slept in max made you your favorite breakfast with some coffee that had just the right amount of sugar in it at the perfect temperature. “thank you so much baby” you said almost crying at the actions of your sweet boy. “i dont know what i would do without you” you took a big bite of the meal and sipped your coffee. this is genuinely the best breakfast you’ve ever had. “this tastes amazing! c’mere” you held your arms out which he gladly accepted, careful to not touch your food. you leave a series of kisses on his face as he closed his eyes and a slight pink tint formed on his cheeks. “thanks.. i tried” he half smiled down at the food. “you did so good baby, thank you.” you kissed his cheek one more time before taking another bite as max rested his head on your shoulder, the redness consuming his pale skin. you swallowed down another bite of your breakfast before turning over to max. “did you try this?” he nodded and you placed another kiss on his forehead. max waited patiently for you to finish and when you did he took it back to the kitchen so he can cuddle with you until you felt better. “that was so good my head isnt even pounding anymore.” you concluded, which confused max. “schatje, it was just breakfast” blush fanned on his cheeks again. “well a good boyfriend like you is pretty good medicine if you ask me.” you giggled. max half smiled back.

movie night your veered your eyes away from the movie to look down at your max resting peacefully in between your legs, watching the movie that was playing on the tv in your shared bedroom as he takes another bite of the rainbow strip hanging from his mouth. movies was your second option after you had to cancel your last date due to you needing to do something at work which max wasn’t very happy about. you offered a reschedule, so now here you are. its summer break and he hadn’t cut his hair in a while meaning it was all long and fluffy, just the way you like. he looked like a prince with his messy hair, thats why you love playing with it. max looked back at you as you move some hairs to the side from his face, his bright blue eyes staring back into yours. you plant a kiss on his forehead. “my pretty boy” you whispered just barely loud enough he could hear. the warmth built up on his face as he tried to focus back on the movie.

more often than not, when youre kissing your boyfriend things always get heated. maxs needy nature and your high sex drive are a perfect but dangerous mix. simple pecks can take a quick turn simply because max can never get enough of you. every kiss has to be as passionate as his love for you. so when hes pulling you down into his gaming chair, you cant refuse him. you carefully step over and he taps his lap for you to come sit on. its kind of hard and the space is a little tight but you make it work. “you okay?” he looks around your legs trying to make sure youre comfortable. “yea.” you cup his face in your hands making him look at you as you take one last glance at his pretty face and clash your lips on his pink ones once again. he runs his hands on your thighs as you lightly scratch the back of his head with one hand and your hand resting on his chest. your hands move over to caress his ears and neck, his head turns slightly to the side, he groans into the kiss as you lightly pinch his sensitive ear lobe. max moves his hands down to your hips giving them a squeeze before running his hands up your back, his fingers tracing along your spine making you shutter.

charles ♎︎

affection but also space charles travels the world for a living and you obviously have your own occupations so when you two do see each other, you cant keep away from one another. he spends most of his year away from you so when he does see you, he makes sure every moment is special. charles isn’t a very clingy person but after not seeing you for a whole week or two, he needs his mandatory dose of you to keep him going. when he is away though, he sets his lock screen to a picture of you he took in secret. when you don’t attend grand prix he blows a kiss to the cameras because he knows you’re watching.

someone good with animals charles love for dogs has always been prominent. every time he’s seen a dog as a kid and as an adult his focus of conversation would always switch to that no matter what the previous topic was. when he found out you grew up around animals and shared a love for dogs he only saw green flags from there. thats why for your birthday he got you a little ball of sunshine. ever since leo came into the picture it has only brought you two together as a couple and as parents. a happy little family ♡︎

when you listen to his music suggestions charles has a strong connection with music. if he wasnt a formula one driver he would be a composer or a musician definitely. his favorite thing to do in his free time is experimenting with his piano. you enjoy when he plays so he recommended you to some composers. so when you sat next to him on the plane and he heard you listening to one of his favorites, he could help the look of satisfaction on his face. “what?” you pulled one side of your headphones out when you noticed him smiling at you. “nothing, nothing..” he looked down unable to contain his smile. “charlie.” you gave him a look. “the song amour, i recognize it” he looked at you again, his dimples still showing. “ohh, yea i really liked this one.” you giggled at his face, he couldn’t even hide his happiness. “that makes you happy?” he nodded. you leaned over and kissed one of his dimples “recommend me more, you have good taste.” you smiled, enjoying that you unintentionally made your boyfriend happy.

charles never really cared too much about what you would wear because you look stunning in anything. except when you wear lace, he cant keep his eyes off you. or his hands. he wrapped an arm around your waist as you stood next to him. he usually wasn’t too touchy in public, so this was new. “handsy tonight, arent we?” you smiled as he snaked a hand around your waist, for the third time tonight. “i don’t know what you’re talking about” he smirked at you. “cmon, what is it?” you cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “you’re too beautiful, i need people to know you’re mine” you rolled your eyes. “char, all ive done tonight is talk about you and my career. i think everyone knows.” he pouted “yea everyone talks about me, i need people to see you’re mine.” he slightly squeezed your waist. so now every time you go on a date, you make sure to wear something lace. he also buys you lace lingerie for you to wear whenever you spend the night at his place. he loves to see you in it and you love to wear it.

sebastian ♋︎

you returned home after a long day, unlocking the door and heading in, it was dark. was seb already asleep? its only 7pm. you hear the door close behind you and you turn to see a silhouette of a man approaching you. “seb..?” he takes your bags from your hands and hangs them and then gently pushes you down on the ledge. when you sit he takes your shoes off and then picks you up without saying a word. “h-hey!” “calm down liebe, its me” he walks you into the house towards the dining room where you see roses and candles circulating the room as you enter. the light softly paints seb, revealing that he’s wearing a dress shirt and is freshly groomed. he puts you down and pulls a chair out for you. “hehe seb, what is this?” you sit down and he takes the cloche off revealing a nicely arranged meal with bbq rib strips and mashed potatoes. “sauerbraten” he said proudly. “it looks good,” you leaned over to kiss him “you made this?” he nodded as he placed a cloth on your lap. “just for you” he smiled cutely. candlelit dinner, home made meal, and a fresh shave? he must want something. “alright tell me.” you narrowed your eyes at him as he sat. “tell you..?” his eyebrows furrowed. “what do you want?” you raised an eyebrow. he just laughed and you sat confused. “liebling, just because i want to do something special doesn’t mean i want something from you!” he calmed his laughter. “you’ve been busy lately, i miss you. thats all.” he took your hand in his and caressed his thumb on your skin and then placing a tender kiss on your knuckles. “now dig in, i know you’re hungry.” he smiled at you once more before picking up his fork and knife and digging into his own food. you cut off a small piece of meat and tasted it. it was good so you cleaned your plate, washing it down with some white wine that seb poured for you. you were so tired you just fell asleep at the table when you finished and seb was happy to take you back up to your shared bedroom. you could repay him tomorrow when you have more energy *wink*

you arrived home after a long night at the club. he was tipsy but able to drive but you were drunk after a night of shots with your friends. seb on the other hand isn’t really interested in partying crazy anymore. he was only in his thirties but he has the social drive of a 80 year old man. a couple beers and good conversation was a perfect night out for him. he walked you out of the car and to the entrance to your house. you leaned on the wall and admired him as he fumbled with the keys and finally opening the door. he held his hand out to help you in and as soon as the door closed behind you, you were pushing him up against the door. “schätzchen-“ he was cut off by you gently pulling him down into a soft, sensual kiss. he rested his hands on your hips, rubbing circles on your lower back. the kiss wasn’t heated or rushed. you slowly moved your mouth against his, running your fingers through his out grown and thin locks, that now appeared more brown then they did in his youth. you could only feel love for him and you have been dying to be in his arms all night but being constantly pulled away by your friends for more shots or karaoke. you grazed his bottom lip with your teeth as you pulled away from the kiss. “i need you.” you locked your doe eyes with his pretty blue ones. “in what way, pretty girl?” he brought a hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with his hand. “can you hold me” you blushed as you hid your face in his chest “please” you requested, words muffled. he smiled down at you, you were always so needy and cute whenever you were this drunk. always asking him to kiss you or touch you in any way. anything to feel his warmth on your body. he couldn’t resist you like this. “you don’t even have to ask liebe” he picked you up and you wrapped your arms and legs around him, resting your head on his shoulder as you felt yourself dosing off in his arms, barely able to keep your eyes open on the trip upstairs. he carefully placed you down on the bed, and you grabbed his shirt when he tried to walk away. “don’t-“ he was just going to find you some clothes but it was obvious you were extra clingy tonight. he carefully undresses you and removes his own shirt and puts it on you then discarding the rest of his clothing until he’s left in his underwear. he climbs into bed with you spooning you from behind but you quickly turn around and bury your head in his chest. you whisper a soft ‘i love you’ before falling into a deep, drunk sleep. he lightly kisses your forehead and whispers it back, eventually falling into his own sleep still holding you close and enveloping in each others warmth.

sharing music you wake up to the sound of distant music. you check your phone to see the time “four am!?” you notice one side of your bed is empty so you get up to see what the commotion is. you walk downstairs and notice the sound is coming from the basement. when you peek down you see a pretty blonde sitting on the floor and adjusting his guitar. “seb?” you call out, his head snaps up. “liebling? why are you up?” he puts his guitar down and walks over to you meeting you at the base of the stairs. “better question, why are YOU up?” you ask with a raspy tired voice and rubbing your eyes. “uhh well i was just playing with my guitar and i forgot to lower the volume..” he scratched the back of his head as he glanced around the room and back to you. “why at this time?” he paused and attempted at an excuse but you weren’t having it. “sleep wasn’t approaching for me so i just..” you ran your fingers down his hair then sliding them over to his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb as you gazed at him, a concerned look painted on your face. he avoided your gaze as he nuzzled into your touch, landing soft kisses on your hand. “do you want to talk about it?” he shook his head. “thanks though” his lips slightly pulled to the side when he snuffled. “can i stay down here with you then, its the least.” he nodded and you followed him over to the spot where he originally was and sat on the couch behind him as he plopped back on the floor. “so what song were you playing?” you leaned over, resting a hand on his shoulder. he turned and kissed it “i wasn’t playing anything yet but i had certain chords in mind..” he adjusted some things on the speaker and strummed his guitar checking the chords were right before playing them as you sat back and listened to his tunes.

jenson ♌︎

assholes with a soft spot you opened your eyes awake, the first thing in your sight your boyfriend gazing down at you. his hand on your cheek as his thumb softly caresses your face, hearts almost forming in his eyes as you fluttered awake. “baby—!” he softly kisses your nose and brow line. you groan and turn your head away, closing your eyes again and attempting to go back to sleep. soft kisses land on your face once again. “you promised you’d wake up early..” jenson whispers close to your face and you roll your eyes. “mm-m” you shake your head with your eyes still shut. “yes, you did” he slightly chuckles as he places a hand on your lower back and slips his hand up your shirt. you purr and turn a little bit over so he can continue rubbing circles up your back. “you like that?” he kisses your shoulder. you nod and slightly grazed your bottom lip with your teeth. he stops his hand motioning “im gonna need to see those eyes again then precious.” you sigh and turn back over and give him an annoyed look. “there you are” he smiles, the slight green in his eyes glistening in the sunlight. why is he always so gorgeous? “what do you want from me” you ask annoyed and raspy. “we made plans for this morning, remember?” you lift an eyebrow at him. “you promised you’d wake up early.” now your brows furrow “no i didnt” “yes honey, you did” “when” you questioned. “last night-“ “ah- see? you cant ask me anything before i go to sleep because i’ll just say yes to get you to shut up.” you nod as your eyes widen at him. “you still said yes” his head cocked to the side. you just stare at him until your eyes hurt and you fling your head to the side stubbornly. “die” you put your fingers on his temple and pushed his head away. he giggled and kissed your hand as you finally arose with a groan.

impulsive adventures you were sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window and you sighed. “what is it honey?” jenson glanced over at you. “nothing..” you mumbled. “love, talk to me.” he placed a hand on your thigh and rubbed with this thumb. he knew just how to open you up with the petnames and the gestures. “im just bored, thats all” you shifted your body to face him as he continued staring down the road and occasionally glancing over at you. “the crash after vacation is real.” you frowned. “you know, theres this one place-“ “take me.” you interrupted and jenson smiled. “didn’t need to ask me twice.” he took an exit and after a bumpy hill climb and lots of twists and turns you finally made it in the.. woods? “alright, what freaky shit are you planning now?” you lifted an eyebrow. “no, no not this time—“ he chuckled, reminiscing on ‘last time’. “that wasn’t even planned” he rolled his eyes playfully. “sureee.. cuz it wasn’t planned at all for you to take me to the top of an empty parking lot.” you recalled that night to him. “it was a beautiful sunset!” he defended. you narrowed your eyes at him. “baby, you cant lie.. it was,” you held your hand out as he paused, waiting for him to continue “…and we were all alone, and you were giving me those eyes—you need to stop with that look when you KNOW what it does to me!” jenson smiled as he explained. “what eyes?” you asked innocently as you leaned closer to him, slowly fluttering your lashes. “that—! you little shit, im getting out.” he hopped out his truck and made his way to the other side, opening the door for you. “cmon.” he held out his arms and you jumped off his truck and into his arms. he carefully places you down and you began making your way down a hidden path. “where we going?” you asked, squeezing his hand. “you’ll see” you rolled your eyes at the response. he stops walking and turns around, towering over you and obstructing your view ahead. “cover your eyes.” he instructs and you do so, covering them with your hand unable to hold in a smile. he guided you a couple feet before stopping you. “okay now open them..” and when you did you were greeted with a beautiful view of the sun shining down on a little waterfall, trees and other plants surrounding the ledges and a shallow pool of clear water lie beneath. you could only stand in shock at the beauty before you. “oh—“ your breath hitches as you try to form words. “and yes, i checked. we can swim in it.” your body snapped around in your boyfriends direction. he gestured and you took no hesitation stripping down to your underwear and jumping in the body of cool water. jenson joined close behind you. he swam under and picked you up from under the water, shaking his head as he emerged up and spraying you with water. “hey!” you flicked his head. “sorry, hehe” he smiled up at you, hair still dripping wet.

flirty banter jenson was doing some maintenance on his truck, he had been out there all morning so you decided to go and keep him company for a while. he was leaned on the front of the truck, adjusting something when you came up behind him and placed a hand on his lower back to announce yourself. his body immediately tensed causing his hands to slightly tremble and almost drop a screw “what the—“ his head snapped around and when he saw it was you, he sighed. “honey, you scared the shit out of me—!” he let out a half laugh as he put the screw in his pocket. he leaned down and kissed you, removing his gloves so he could put his hands on your hips. “im sorry.. i just wanted to see what you were doing.” you slightly frowned, feeling bad that you almost messed him up on whatever he was doing. “i was checking something, thought i heard some knock” he wiped some sweat from his forehead. thats when you noticed how sweaty he was, it was in the 90s this particular morning. his white tanktop was almost soaked, making it stick to his body in all the right ways. “you see something you like?” jenson smirked as he called you out on your staring at his torso. “maybe..” you half smiled back, glancing up and down.

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theambitiouswoman · 1 year

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SELF TALK. Replacing the NEGATIVE things we say to ourselves with POSITIVE words 🦄💜✨✨

When we say bad things about ourselves, our minds and bodies pay attention and start believing those things. It's like a cycle. When we keep telling ourselves we're not good enough or can't do things, our minds start thinking it's true. These bad thoughts can make us act in ways that match what we believe, like avoiding things because we think we'll fail. Over time, our brain gets used to these thoughts and they become a regular part of how we see ourselves.

But if we say good things to ourselves, it can be really helpful. When we're kind in how we talk to ourselves, it can make us feel better and stronger. It's like giving ourselves a little boost of confidence. When we're positive, we can handle problems better and feel less stressed. When we believe good things about ourselves, we might do better in different situations. So it's important to notice how we talk to ourselves and try to say nice things, even if we don't always feel that way.

Negative: "I always mess things up." Positive: "I sometimes make mistakes, but I also learn from them."

Negative: "I'm so stupid." Positive: "I'm smart and capable; everyone makes errors."

Negative: "I can't do this; it's too hard." Positive: "I can handle challenges with effort and perseverance."

Negative: "I'll never succeed in anything." Positive: "I have the potential to achieve my goals through hard work."

Negative: "Nobody likes me." Positive: "I have people who care about me and value my company."

Negative: "I'm a failure." Positive: "I've achieved many things and will continue to grow."

Negative: "I'm not good enough." Positive: "I am enough just as I am, and I'm constantly improving."

Negative: "I'm a burden to others." Positive: "My presence and contributions make a positive impact."

Negative: "I always mess up social situations." Positive: "I can connect with others and enjoy social interactions."

Negative: "I'll never get over this." Positive: "I can heal and move forward from difficult situations."

Negative: "I'm so ugly." Positive: "I am unique and have qualities that make me attractive."

Negative: "I'll never be as good as them." Positive: "I have my own strengths and talents that are valuable."

Negative: "I'm a loser." Positive: "I have the courage to try and the ability to succeed."

Negative: "I'm always so awkward." Positive: "I am learning and growing in social interactions."

Negative: "I can't handle criticism." Positive: "I can learn from feedback and use it to improve."

Negative: "I'm too lazy to accomplish anything." Positive: "I have the energy and determination to achieve my goals."

Negative: "I'll never be happy." Positive: "I can find joy and contentment in the little things."

Negative: "I'm a failure as a parent/friend/partner." Positive: "I care and do my best to support those around me."

Negative: "I'm too old/young to do that." Positive: "Age doesn't define my ability to pursue my passions."

Negative: "I don't deserve good things." Positive: "I am worthy of happiness, success, and positive experiences."

Negative: "I'm a failure because I haven't achieved enough." Positive: "I'm on my own path of growth and accomplishments."

Negative: "I can't handle stress." Positive: "I am resilient and can manage stress with effective strategies."

Negative: "I'll never be as talented as others." Positive: "I have unique talents that make me special."

Negative: "I'm so clumsy." Positive: "I am improving my coordination and skills."

Negative: "I'm too shy to make friends." Positive: "I have qualities that others appreciate and I can connect with people."

Negative: "I'm not good at anything." Positive: "I have strengths and abilities that I can develop."

Negative: "I'm a burden on my family." Positive: "My family supports me and we help each other."

Negative: "I'll probably fail, so why bother trying?" Positive: "I have the courage to take on challenges and learn from them."

Negative: "I can't trust anyone; people always let me down." Positive: "I can build meaningful and trustworthy relationships."

Negative: "I'll never find love." Positive: "I am deserving of love and can create meaningful connections."

Negative: "I'm not creative at all." Positive: "I can express my creativity in different ways."

Negative: "I'll never be able to speak in public." Positive: "I can develop my public speaking skills with practice."

Negative: "I don't deserve success." Positive: "I am capable of achieving success through hard work."

Negative: "I'm so disorganized." Positive: "I can improve my organization skills with time."

Negative: "I'll never be happy with my body." Positive: "I can make healthy choices and appreciate my body."

#self talk #self development #self esteem #self worth #self help #self improvement #self love #personal improvement #personal growth #personal development #positive mindset #think positive #positive quotes #affirmations #law of manifestation #how to manifest #manifesation

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aurae-rori · 5 months

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DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.

This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.

Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?

This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.

Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.

He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.

Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.

Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)

Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)

Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.

#aurae analyzes #dr ratio #drratio #veritas ratio #analysis #character analysis #honkai star rail #hsr #aventio #ratiorine #aventurine #dr ratio x aventurine #character study

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year

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Peering In My Hollow Core

Fandom: MCU Title: Peering In My Hollow Core Characters/Pairings: Nomad!Steve x Morally Grey!Female Reader Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Even the best laid plans can go up in flames. You're both wrong, and yet also more right for each other than you know.

Content Warnings: explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT due to sex pollen, masturbation, rough fucking/vaginal sex, unprotected sex/ejaculation

Logistical Notes: I claimed prompt 13 for @lunarbuck's Star-Crossed Lovers Soulmate AU challenge and also knocking off I1 "masturbation" for @the-slumberparty's August/September Bingo challenge. And because you know I can't resist... it's also using one of the prompts (first bolded line) for @witchywithwhiskey's Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! And it's answering an ask I got from one very mischievous @stargazingfangirl18 that's been on my mind for the last two weeks.

Additional Notes: @biteofcherry and @vonalyn let me suss out how this evolved, so thank you for enduring my brainstorming! Eva also gave a line of dialogue inspiration that I found too delicious not to snatch up, and so that's bolded for acknowledgement as well (near the end). Title from Scars by Basement Jaxx.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“What’s your grand plan here, Doc?” The golden-haired, bearded hulk of a man, America’s golden boy now a rogue in the shadows is pacing before you. “Are you even a doctor?”

His tone is biting, angry, and you don’t hold it against him.

He did fall right into your trap.

“You’re a smart boy, you can guess.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I think it will bruise your ego more if I spell it out for you.”

“You should have thought of my rage before you put yourself in this situation, Doc,” he all but growls, still prowling back and forth across the living room floor. “What’s your exit strategy here?”

“You’re getting more volatile and heated, that’s good. That’s what I need.”

“Do you think this is a fucking game? You’re on dangerous ground.”

Your lips curl up slightly, but you try not to smirk. “I dangled myself in front of you. Good Captain America couldn’t resist trying to liberate the poor scientist who got wrongfully entangled with the remnants of HYDRA. You never even stopped to consider that I was dangling myself out in the wind to get you here like this, and you’ve read enough about HYDRA, you know what I gave you.”

“But why?” he barks.

“No one can beat you for strength. You’re driven, resourceful, able to evade an attack. Your weakness is caring,” you pause because he stops his pacing, he looks ready to spring, but doesn’t yet. His eyes haven’t left you for even a moment since he realized it’s you he needed to worry about, not save. “I need your DNA, blood samples, bodily fluid, and I can’t trap you with anything, but I banked on the one physical vulnerability even a super soldier isn’t immune from: a compound they initially developed as something called a sex pollen. In fact, I think you know they tested it on a super soldier, don’t you?”

He slams his fist on the table between you two, and it splits from his actions.

You shouldn’t have provoked him with that. It wouldn’t yield the results you were trying to manipulate him into.

“Easy, Nomad,” you raise your hands cautiously to ease the tension just slightly. “That’s what they call you now – Nomad is the moniker now that you can’t be Captain America out there to the world anymore.” He flexes his fists, another angry reflex, but one you know speaks to a slight de-escalation, self-regulation. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t agree with everything HYDRA has done.”

He lets out a bitter laugh.

“I don’t,” you insist.

“If you’re not in with them, you’ve made a deal with a devil you’ve vastly underestimated.”

“They’re a means to an end.”

“How can you be so foolish to think that?”

“No one will fund my research at the rate and without regulatory oversight the way they do. They’re desperate to have more of you but under their thumb, especially since you’re at the root of them losing their prize assassin.”

“You’re not stupid, so why are you giving them what they want?”

You lift your chin defiantly.

Steve’s eyes narrow. “Oh god. You can’t tell me… Really? You think you’re gonna keep your research and development from them in the end?”

“Look at what I’ve done so far,” you gesture. “You’ve evaded every attempt they’ve made to get you, you’re evading all the countries who are supposed to enforce the accords and hand you over, and yet I have you trapped here.”

“Why do you care about a super soldier serum?” he asks.

You shrug. “I’m interested in a serum, but I don’t need super soldiers. The list of your medical ailments before you were injected, and then you’re instantly cured of everything? Do you know how many people need even a drop of what cured you?”

“And you think I’d be opposed to that?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, easily. Once the research exists, it will get applied for things it was never intended to be used for, up to and including developing super soldiers for HYDRA and people who pretend they’re better than HYDRA.”

“So, who has made you this desperate?”

“You don’t get to know that.”

He scoffs now. “You don’t get to set the terms here if you intend to get what you want.”

“Don’t I? You’re uncomfortable. You’ve been uncomfortable for a while. It’s going to get worse, but I adapted the formula for what I gave you in that drink of water. All you have to do is ejaculate, and the toxin will abate from your system.”

“How thoughtful of you,” he deadpans.

Then his demeanor changes. He sniffs, and his eyes finally stray from you.

“You said this house is reinforced in its lockdown to keep me in until you initiate and secure your extraction with the HYDRA team?”

“Yes,” you answer slowly, trying to follow his line of sight and decipher what he’s looking at.

“I think you’re going to need to adjust your plans and priorities and do it quickly.”

You open your mouth to ask why, but then your mind quickly makes the leap. “They modified my ventilation system.”

“HYDRA has refused to be eliminated for decades. They can wait for a purebred super soldier and think they can get one in your womb today.”

The heat of humiliation floods your body. How could you have been so foolish not to account for a maneuver like this. They had clearly approved of your strategy too easily.

“Soon you won’t be able to think about anything more than my cock in your cunt, so you better start thinking of how you’re going to get yourself out of this, Doc, because Nomad is not who everyone knew Captain America to be, and I’m certainly not inclined to assist you in any way now. Been doing fine evading capture as you yourself asserted, I can probably figure out my own exit strategy here and fight off the sex pollen until I make it out. But for someone without any biological enhancements… I’m not optimistic over your odds. I read everything on HYDRA. This stuff was nasty when they first developed it, but you can bet they will have reverse engineered whatever you did to the formula to make it even worse.”

As if on cue, you start to feel the physical effects of whatever nearly imperceptible airborne toxin – imperceptible to you, but apparently not to enhanced individuals. Heat flares again in your body, but this time it is a pulsating sexual need.

You close your eyes to try and keep your breath steady and even, but after another moment, you whimper and draw your hands to your stomach as the poisonous desire pulses more strongly, the tremor of need undeniable.

Your eyes burst open again, seeking out the male across the room from you.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, no. I’m not giving you anything you want. If you’re as brilliant as you think you are, you don’t need me to get out of your unfortunate predicament.”

Your body is yearning for him, but you know he’s serious.

You also know he’s right; you need to think fast.

You’re coherent enough to get both of you out of the lockdown state of the house now – because HYDRA was clearly going to come for both of your – you had a failsafe to get out in case there was some loss of electrical power. But could you get away in this state?

And you know if you get out, you’ll never get the DNA you need from Steve Rogers – you’ll never be close enough to or even see him again. You know that in your bones.

Over the next hour, at different points during the feverish state that overtakes you, you can sometimes hear the super soldier nearby, doing things around your home, undoubtedly trying to apply his own ingenuity.

He might be successful.

It hardly matters.

Now you’re in the shower, under a stream of cold water, trying both to alleviate the unbearable heat your body has peaked to and to hide the sound of your sobs as best you can. You’ve stripped down to a nearly naked state. You ripped off your shirt and pants in your room, left them on the floor, your panties are on the tiled floor outside the shower, but you couldn’t spare your hands to remove your bra. At first you were almost experiencing a sliver of relief with one hand between your legs, paying every attention to your excessively slick folds and throbbing clit, thrusting your fingers in and out of your cunt as well, but it was a false grasp at hope.

You don’t know when you slid down the tiled wall of the wet glass tomb where you think you may die, curled in on yourself, one hand still trying pointlessly to trigger the orgasm that will flush the desperate physical pain from your body, surely it must come.

You don’t know how long he’s been standing in the doorway of the bathroom before you try to shift pathetically, your eyes open, and you see him slowly stroking his hard cock, watching you. You shut your eyes again, in agony wondering how he can possibly seem so collected. Why isn’t he pumping his fist in a frenzy? You couldn’t stroke your clit fast enough, and now you can’t bear to touch it, but the heel of your hand can’t help bumping it as you try to fuck yourself on your fingers.

Then a rush of air blasts over your body.

You open your eyes weakly to see Steve reach to shut off the water, before he bends down and without a word grabs your limp body from the floor, drapes you over his arm, where you hand limply, bent in half, and he hauls you back to your room, and throws you on the bed.

You continue to cry and stroke yourself while you hear him unzip and unfasten, your body a trembling heap, facing away from him as he’s undressing.

“I’m going to fuck you, and then you’re going to let me out before HYDRA comes for both of us. You’re fucking clever and I can’t get out of here without you.”

You whimper when you feel his weight on the bed behind you.

He forces you into a kneeling position, but he doesn’t care that you can’t even prop yourself up, head and shoulders slumped down on the mattress, ass in the air. His left hand grips your hip, and he groans as he guides the head of his cock up and down the slit of your dripping cunt before he finally slides in. It’s deliberate, sliding down to the base, his hips pushing into yours. The way he invades and stretches you is painful, and yet you need it, keening at the fullness.

You do catch that his breathing hitches.

He needs this, too.

You’ll give it to him if he’ll just put your body out of its misery.

After a moment of slowly rutting against you, only shifting his girth inside of you a bit, teasing, perhaps warning, you whine, “move, please, more.”

“More than you bargained for,” he growls, then pulls back, and then thrusts back into you, adopting a brutal pace, both hands anchored at your hips now, slamming you back and forth roughly.

He pulls a first orgasm from your body quickly, but the second comes not long after when he reaches around to pinch and roll your clit between his fingers, still using your pussy for chasing his pleasure.

A third, and you’ve gone from whimpers and keens to crying out and a fresh wave of tears. This is rough and you’re over stimulated, and he knows. He leans over your back to smirk against your neck.

“Please,” you cry. You don’t know if you’re begging for more or for less because your body is screaming in exhaustion, but the fire is still tormenting your veins.

Because you haven’t been filled.

The smirk turns to a sneer against your neck, and Steve snarls, "You wanted it. You staged it. So, you're going to take it and keep fucking taking it until I'm done with your pathetic fragile body."

He’s pressing into places you’ve never felt before, and you cry out more, face pressed into the sheets. He pushes back up and pulls his cock out of you. His fingers work the clasp of your bra, and he pulls it off while he flips you over so you’re on your back. You can’t even open your eyes, but you feel him looming above you, kneeling between your splayed out thighs.

But then you feel something shift. He mutters a curse and is suddenly still.

You open your eyes and look up at him, but he’s looking at your chest. His hand moves up to trace his fingers over a scar near your collarbone. You look and see the same scar evident on his chest.

You reach up and your fingers quest along his bicep, and they do find a scar there, very faint but long, matching one you’ve had nearly your entire life.

Your eyes lock on each other now, and the acknowledgement there between you is terrifying.

There are more scars, but you don’t need to continue to confirm what you know.

You’re soulmates.

You’ve betrayed him before you even knew.

You’re still beholden to the drive of the sex pollen, boneless and exhausted, but this revelation drives with adrenaline through the haze, too hard to deny. It gives you enough to say, “We can’t deal with this now if we want to get out of here with a chance to escape HYDRA, fuck me and end this.”

He does, but he can’t look at you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, and spears you with his cock. The fucking is rough, and you take it. It’s punishing penance and painful pleasure. You cling to him as he thrusts you over the cliff of ecstasy again, coming with you finally, and his spend pumps hotly into you. The physical relief from the torture is blessedly immediate. His hand ghosts over your lower abdomen where he’s just planted his seed. With his eyes closed, he touches his forehead to yours, then pushes roughly away and rolls off of you.

“Get up, get dressed, pack light,” he says, stone cold. “Between us we might get out of this dangerous trap. That’s all we need for now.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers smut #horrormoviehoeathon #tw: dubcon #sex pollen #aspen wrote something #female reader

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ellieslaces · 6 months

Text

CAN’T CATCH ME NOW. one

presenting: Umbrella’s Hunger Games

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: the Hunger Games, an annual show of brutal control the Capitol has over each of the twelve Districts. the Games’ number one sponsor: Umbrella Corporation, the creator of the Games’ most horrific torture strategies and nightmare inducing deaths. these games have always been cautionary, always a far away but constant threat — until you find yourself Reaped and thrown into an area full of your worst fears with 23 other Tributes, all out for blood.

content warnings: harsh language; violence; gore; class discrimination; usual hunger games/resident evil warnings

notes: please note this series will contain heavy themes of violence, gore, class discrimination, and torture. if these subjects trigger you, skip this series or proceed with caution; all the chapters will be super long, just be prepared

word count: 4.26k

now playing: enemy ; imagine dragons with JID

can’t catch me now playlist

the districts ; prologue

Spring had a poetic, two sided story. One of beauty and rebirth, flowers blooming in meadows, rain showers that brought rainbows to the end of a long day. But one also of death and destruction. Spring may as well be a double edged sword, one edge cutting away the dead to make room for the new. The other side a dangerous weapon to cut down upon that year’s newest crop of children unlucky enough to be Reaped.

Spring was a cautionary season, tales and preparations were made during the final months of long winter. Mothers being sure to hold their child close, fathers staying home from whatever jobs they were mandated a little longer in the mornings to get a glimpse at their children’s face before they went away for the day.

Though nothing could ever really prepare anyone for the possibility of their child’s name being called in the Reaping. No soothing words of how much they were loved and how strong they were would ever calm a child scared in their bones of dying — of killing. This was the reality of the Reaping Ceremony. A reality you’d been prepared for, thoroughly.

Since you were able to understand what the Hunger Games were, you’d been trained to survive them. Chris Redfield instructed you to hone your skills in combat, in knife throwing, in handheld weapons, in archery. You were skilled in just about every form of combat, of nearly any possibly thrown your way.

His sister, Claire, trained you to be smart. Not to fall for the similarity of berries, of mixing up plants, of mistaking the signs of infection, to fall into another Tribute’s trap. You were as prepared to survive any surrounding territory as you were to fight someone to the death.

Despite not really being allowed to train you as you weren’t a Tribute, the siblings did it anyway. They had no family save for each other. No parents, no other siblings. Just each other — and you.

Your crumbled, soaked form had been found by the pair when you were a mere eight. A ruthless school bully had taken your pack, jacket, and shoes. Leaving you in the rain on your way home from school.

They’d taken you home, cleaned you up and sent you on your way. It wasn’t until a few days later they realized you had no home. Not really, you were an orphan too, living in the local orphanage. So, they took you in. Despite not really being allowed to, they did. They loved you as their own family. And one of the ways they showed their love, was by teaching you how to survive.

Today was your final Reaping ceremony. Eight years of terror, eight years of worry for your life every time Spring rolled around. This was the final time you had to worry — if you were lucky. If you were lucky, you’d make it out alive, without being subjected to the horrors of the Games that the Umbrella Corporation were so proud of.

You’d heard the tales of what people witnessed — of what Claire and Chris had witnessed. Though they didn’t outright speak of their times in the arena, you’d watched clips of their Games. You’d heard rumors from the people who had seen their Games on broadcast.

The Mutts Chris had to take down by hand and sword to survive and become Victor. The horrors that chased Claire through the woods to push her and the final three Tributes into a cutthroat fight.

These were things you hadn’t experienced yourself, things you hoped you’d never have to experience. Things Chris and Claire prepared you for nonetheless. But even they knew — no amount of preparation could save you from the lingering fear of what you could see. The nightmares you’d have for the remainder of your life. The fact that every year, you’d be dragged out and forced to relive the past for the Capitol’s entertainment. And today was the final day they could ever even try to prepare you.

Your morning was spent as it usually was — an early breakfast and training. Chris had worked with you on your hand to hand combat, while Claire worked with you on your survival skills. Once training had come to a close, you were taken home to be prepared for your final Reaping.

There was no need for Tessarae, you didn’t need to put your name in more than the eight times it would be in the bowl. Chris and Claire provided for you, they never let you starve, never let you go without the things you needed. And it seemed comfort was one of those things.

“Don’t worry, your chances are low.” Claire soothed you as she and Chris walked you toward the square in District One. “And even if you are Reaped, you’re prepared.”

“I know,” you mumbled, nodding. This was the eighth time you’d heard this pre-Reaping speech from Claire. She said this every year.

“You’re strong, you’ll be fine.” And Chris said that every year too.

You appreciated their support, really. It was just hard to think about anything other than the possibility your life could come to a quick and brutal end in a matter of weeks if things took a turn for the worse today.

“I know.” You mumbled, again. And you did know. You were prepared, you were strong. You were all the things the Redfield siblings proclaimed you to be. Despite being the mere age of nineteen, you were a ruthless person, you had a human understanding of mercy, yes. But you also knew how to survive, no matter the circumstances. And anyone would be stupid to forget that.

Although you weren’t the only person who was given the opportunity to prepare for the Games longer before they were even Reaped. It was common in Districts One and Two for the children to be familiar with combat, with survival skills. Most Tributes ended up volunteering for the ability to compete in the Games. Many a sour face had come from the stage over the years a someone stole the Reaped’s chance to fight.

You’d decided long ago that if someone wanted to take your place and volunteer, you’d be happy to let them have your spot. Anything, anything to stay away from the Capitol. Or as far as you could, being from District One. But, being a part of the Redfield family — even if it was unofficial — you weren’t too far out of the Capitol’s reach. It would be the Games or your connection to the Redfield’s that would catch their attention eventually.

“We’ll see you after?” Claire’s voice brought you back to the present, her ever soothing tone causing you to look up at her. She smiled at you, patting your arms with gentle affection. “You’ll be fine.”

You nodded as Chris gave your bicep a small punch before brushing his knuckles along your cheek with playful affection. “We’ll break out that apple crumble tonight, yeah?”

His suggestion made you smile — even though you had luxuries being the family of District One Victors, they still tried to teach you some humility. They taught you to be human, to have compassion and sense and a heart.

“Okay,” you nodded, smiling a little as the pair left you in the lines to sign in for the Reaping. You watched them walk to the stage, greeting the representative from the Capitol who was sent to preform the Reaping — a short man with half shaved hair that was dyed a shocking orange.

The line moved quickly, it always did. The woman at the table pricked your finger, taking blood and registering your name to be entered eight times. Probably one of the least amount of times in the group of children here. You were ushered by the crowd to the section of fellow nineteen year olds, craning your neck for so much as a glimpse of Chris or Claire to soothe your nerves.

You were much different than many of the other around you. Some thrummed with energy, for the chance to swoop in and volunteer if they weren’t lucky enough to be Reaped. You didn’t want to be like them. You didn’t want to be a killer. You didn’t want to be another one of the Capitol’s playthings.

The video of Panem history began to play on the screens flanking the stage, the anthem ringing through the speakers. The sound of President Spencer’s voice echoed through the square with his grand speech of the relationship between the Capitol and the Districts. Peace, he called it. Compliance, he called it. No, it was control. But really, what was the difference at this point?

Once the film came to a close, the Capitol representative stepped forward toward the mic, his smile startlingly white and far too wide to be genuine. He tapped the microphone few times before clearing his throat and speaking.

“Good afternoon, District One, and happy 98th Hunger Games!” His voice matched his face — eccentric, high pitched, grating on the ears.

“Before you all claw up the stage to get your chance, I’ll start with the gentlemen’s names.” The man — whom you remembered was named Allium Copperhead — giggled at his own stupid joke before removing the mic from its stand as he shuffled over toward the bowl containing the boys’ names.

All you could think was how dumb Allium Copperhead looked trotting over toward the bowl. This was another example of the difference between the lesser Districts versus the Careers. Girls always went first, except in the richer Districts. Possibly an advantage, but not really. Boys were the most likely to try to volunteer, most likely to start a fight in the square to get their chance of glory and fame.

This particular part didn’t concern you — your name wasn’t in the boys’ bowl. And it wasn’t as if you had anyone to worry over. Allium reached his hand into the large glass bowl, his citrus orange nails grazing over the slips of paper before plucking one out and shuffling over to the mic stand once more.

“Our District One male Tribute is,” he purposely drew out the suspense, the square collectively holding its breath. This was his thing, suspense. Attention grabber — that’s what Claire called him. “Piers Nivans.”

A collective groan fell from each older boy’s lips as Allium announced who was the male Tribute. Piers Nivans was a bit of a prodigy amongst the District One boys. He was strong and level headed and ruthless as he was kind. Chris had trained him alongside you.

Piers didn’t seem all too happy though as he walked toward the stage. Chris’ eyes followed the boy, face set in an unreadable expression. But you could tell — he wasn’t ecstatic about this. No one dared to volunteer. Not because Piers wanted to be in the games. But because they knew Piers stood a better chance the any of them.

Once Piers had reached the stage and Allium shook his hand a little too excitedly, he took his stand on the right side of the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd. As if he were waiting for someone — anyone — to volunteer. To save him from this fresh new hell. No luck.

“Now, for the ladies.” Allium announced in the microphone with a giggled smile, practically skipping over to the girls’ bowl. If you hadn’t been so worried about your fate, you would have rolled your eyes at how childish this grown-ass man was.

But you couldn’t focus on anything other than the thousands of slips of paper in the bowl as he reached in and snatched one up. The square was dead quiet. You heard a girl to your right let out a sigh of anticipation.

The air was thick, the energy unbearable. Your heart raced in your ears, blood thrumming through your veins as Allium stood in front of the mic once more, unfolding the paper.

You almost didn’t hear him call out your name. Almost thought you were hallucinating. It wasn’t until he called out your name once more, all the people in the square turning to your direction that you realized you hadn’t dreamt it. You wanted to cry, throw up, beat up Allium Copperhead and claw the ridiculous make up from his face.

But you did none of those things as you braced yourself, walking up toward the stage. An entire desert ecosystem was born in your mouth as you walked up the steps to the stage. Claire and Chris’ sad gazes caught your eye. God, why’d they have to look at you like that?

You waited, prayed as Allium shook your hand — the feeling of his clammy hands against your own made you even more nauseated than before — for someone to volunteer. No one did. Not even that girl you’d seen before who seemed so eager for her name to be drawn.

No one would volunteer. Because while Piers was the boy prodigy of the District, you were his counterpart. You were the strongest girl in the District, the most capable of winning. Maybe even over Piers. No one dared to take the chance of winning the Games away from the Redfield’s top student.

You stood on the left side of the stage, looking out upon the crowd of children — some relieved not to be Reaped, others irked. How you wished you were able to go home, to not be sent away to the Capitol to kill and possibly die. Maybe, you wouldn’t even try. But you had to, you couldn’t leave Chris and Claire.

“Our District One Tributes, ladies and gentlemen!” Allium announced with a sickeningly cheerful smile. He waved a dramatic hand toward where you and Piers stood at opposite ends of the stage. “Oh, go on now! Shake hands.”

You turned toward Piers, ignoring the way Allium bounced on his heels — you wanted to rip his fucking vocal cords out so you’d never have to hear his agitating voice again. Piers held out his hand, and you took it. Being a good sport you offered a small, sympathetic yet understanding smile.

The irony, two of the strongest and most capable possible Tributes in the District didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to kill and hurt and fight to survive. Despite being molded to do just that. Despite being the only ones with a fighting chance.

You let go of Piers’ hand, turning back toward the crowd as Allium Copperhead made his final goodbyes. Thank God, he would finally leave you the fuck alone. Maybe dying in the arena wouldn’t be so bad if it meant never having to see this crack job ever again. The orange-headed man placed the mic back on its stand before gently guiding you and Piers toward the back of the stage.

Peacekeepers took you from there, offering you a chance to say goodbye to anyone you wished to see one last time. But you had no one, other than Chris and Claire who were coming with you. So, you denied the opportunity, saying you just wanted to go to the train.

Piers took his chance, bidding a sad goodbye to his family. They were proud of him to taking it in such stride, you could see that. And you could also see how they knew that this wasn’t something to be cheering for. These Games were ruthless and they knew that their son would either return a murderer or not return at all.

Peacekeepers guided you and Piers toward the train, standing at the doors as you both walked in one after the other. The train shook as it started up, before lurching forward smoothly. You wandered into one of the cars and took in your surroundings.

Yes, you’d been raised with a certain modem of luxury. But it was District level luxury. This was true richness. Velvet chairs, patterned textured wallpapers, smooth carpet, rich wood furniture. God, it was like they were flaunting it in your face. Which they were.

“Oh my God,” you heard Claire’s voice echo through the train car and before you could even look over your shoulder, she was rushing toward you and enveloping you into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” her voice was muffled by her face pressed into your hair.

“Jesus kid, you got the Redfield bad luck, huh?” Chris grumbled as he walked in, shaking his head.

Piers’ eyes ticked between you and the Redfield sister that held you, and Chris with recognition. It seemed he hadn’t recognized you until just now.

“Chris,” Claire frowned, scolding her brother as she loosened her grip on you to hold you at arms length. Her attention turned back on you, hands smoothing down the fabric of your blouse. “You’ll be fine, we’re going to do our best to prepare you. Both of you.”

“I know you will,” you nodded, offering your best attempt at a smile. Like you even felt like smiling right now. You looked over to Piers. “At least we’ve got the best of the best.”

“Maybe we’ll have an actual chance.” Piers mumbled as Chris walked over to him, clapping the boy on the shoulder roughly.

“We’ll make sure you have a chance. Both of you.” Chris nodded as he crossed his large arms over his chest. He gave an eye roll as a cheery voice was heard distantly from behind one of the close train doors. He let out a grumble. “Brace yourselves, here comes traffic cone.”

“Chris,” Claire scolded as she narrowed her eyes toward her brother. But before he could even think of defending himself, the automatic train door opened and Allium Copperhead skipped into the train car.

“My tributes!” The man cried with a grin, clapping his hands beneath his chin — which you just noticed had a patch of bright orange hair to match the half curtain of hair on his head — and paced over to you and Piers. “I am so proud of you two!”

You wanted to move away, but the man was deceptively quick as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and his other around Piers’ shoulders. He hugged you close, and you could see Piers physically cringe out of the corner of your eye. “I am going to be sure that your time in the Capitol is as enjoyable as it is productive!”

“All right, Allium, they’re overwhelmed right now,” Claire said with a gentle tone that held a bit of authority behind it as she raised her brows.

“Right, right! Of course,” Allium agreed cheerfully as he let go of the both of you. Which lead to you and Piers to let out a simultaneous exhale of relief. You watched the man’s eyes land on a television and he walked towards it. “We should watch the Reaping broadcast! It should be all uploaded by now.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Claire and Chris, silently begging for them to put a stop to it. The last thing you wanted was to watch your own Reaping ceremony. Chris gave an apologetic grimace as Allium flicked on the television with a small remote. It seemed to be preset to the Capitol broadcast channels.

“Come here, come here. Get comfortable. I’ll have some food sent in, you two must be famished.” Allium waved you and Piers over with a cheek splittingly wide grin.

Of course, you much be absolutely famished because you lived in one of the Districts. He had no tactfulness. But with Claire’s nod of approval, you slowly paced over toward the small semi-circle of armchairs and a sofa that proved betrayingly comfortable. You took a seat on the sofa, Piers beside you. And much to your disgust and discomfort, Allium took his seat on your other side.

Chris and Claire sat on the armchairs on either side of the sofa. “I know you don’t really want to watch this, but it’ll be a good way to get an idea of who you’ll be up against in the arena.”

Chris was already in mentor mode. He was leaning forward, his elbows propped on his knees as the Capitol anthem played and the Umbrella Corporation logo flashed across the screen. The Reaping ceremony of District One played first, your own Reaping.

God, did you really look like that? Like a deer in headlights on that stage? Piers on the other hand looked great. Strong and intimidating. But you looked weak, like you were about to throw up and pass out. Which you’d almost done both.

As your Reaping came to a close, Allium gave a swift — and what was supposed to be an affectionate — pat on your knee. He grinned at you, nodding as you gave a weary smile back and looked back at the huge television.

District Two’s Reaping played next, a girl with long blonde hair and bangs that covered one eye stood on the stage as she was Reaped — Rachel Foley, that was her name. She was eighteen and had a menacing look on her face. The boy that was called up was Brad Vickers, a nineteen year old with a stocky build who looked a bit too relaxed on the stage.

Chris had previously informed you of the Victor for District Two, Jill Valentine. He had warned you not to underestimate her as most people did. And despite having won her games years ago and fought to prove herself in the Capitol, people believed she was weak for the way she’d won her games. However, with the glimpse you saw of her on the screen during her District’s Reaping, you decided maybe it was best to heed Chris’s warning.

District Three’s Reaping was as equally uneventful as the previous two. Though you suspected the girl tribute — Cindy Lennox — to be an immediate target for violence. She seemed too soft, too sweet to be on that stage. The male Tribute, however, looked up to the task. Steve Burnside was tall and seemed confident enough to be able to get through the arena alive.

Their mentor and Three’s most recent Victor was Ada Wong, someone that you didn’t want to mess with, as Claire warned you. She was ruthless and clever and cutthroat as she was deceiving and alluring. There were rumors around the Capitol she had ways of getting information, secrets. It wasn’t ever clear if those methods were ones of violence or sexual advances. Though no one ever questioned much. She was too beautiful to want to question.

All you could think as you watched the District Four Reaping was how fucking unlucky these Tributes were. Ashely Graham was what was called a ‘sympathy win’ in the Capitol. Meaning someone had the means to send her enough sponsor gifts that she managed to outlive the other Tributes in her games. Though her two — Jessica Sherawat and Kevin Ryman — seemed strong enough to handle themselves, so maybe they had a chance. No matter how small. Because if Chris and Claire taught you one thing, it was never to underestimate anyone.

District Five was where things got a bit dramatic. There was a volunteer for the girl tribute, Caroline Floyd taking the place of a girl who seemed to be blind. Which, in your mind, was a brave and selfless thing to do. Until you remembered there was so such thing as selflessness in the games. Her male counterpart was Billy Coen, whom Claire later told you was suspected to be close to his now mentor, Rebecca Chambers.

District Six was boring, as usual. Tyrell Patrick — a tall man with kind eyes — towered over the female Tribute, Christine Yamata who seemed entirely unemotional. Their Mentor was praised to be somewhat of a genius, despite Chris promising he wasn’t. Carlos Olivera was as cocky and unthinking as the next Yribute who wanted to stay alive.

Things were quiet in Seven, Josh Stone and Sienna Fowler being the Tributes. Chris praised their Mentor though. Sheva Alomar, he said, was trustworthy and dependable. He liked her, you could tell. Other than Jill, she seemed to be the only one he favored.

District Eight produced the Tributes nineteen year old Karen LesProux — who was rumored to have married extremely young at seventeen and then killed her husband after he’d hit one of their children, but those rumors were quickly shut down — and sixteen year old Richard Aiken who looked to be young, but strong enough to hopefully carry his own.

Their Mentors — Sherry Birkin and Jake Muller — were rumored to be cutthroat and did whatever it took to make their Tributes survive. Despite knowing that Claire had an obvious soft spot for Sherry when she’d made a connection with her a few years ago, Chris warned you it was wise not to trust the Tributes from Eight. And something about the way they looked made you believe him.

District Nine’s Reaping was quiet and uneventful as Moira Burton — a fifteen year old girl who was scrawny as she was fearful — and nineteen year old David King — who refused to speak at all — were chosen. Their Mentors, however, were the topic of conversation. Ethan and Mia Winters. Many rumors circulated around the Capitol concerning the now-married couple. Apparently, Ethan Winters had pulled many strings to get Mia — previously Mia Jensen — out of her games alive. Most of the other Mentors had been bitter and they weren’t the most popular amongst the current pool of Victors. Except for Chris, who had a soft spot for the pair.

The Tributes for District Ten were named Bruce McGivern — a charismatic looking seventeen year old boy — and Fong Ling, who looked extremely intimidating for a fifteen year old girl. Their Mentor was somewhat of a flirt around the Capitol, Luis Serra. He was rumored to be similar to Ada Wong in terms of how he survived his life in the spotlight as a Victor. Sexual favors and the payment of secrets. He wasn’t bad to look at, you had to give him that.

The Reaping broadcast was close to an end as District Eleven brought forth an increasingly devastating Tribute. Twelve year old Natalia Korda was picked from the bowl and stood on the stage, trying her hardest not to cry. She seemed to have at least some last sliver of hope though as her male counterpart, Parker Luciani, seemed to want to try and take care of her.

Their Mentors were a mix, that’s for sure. Zoe Baker who seemed determined to get Natalia out alive, and Lucas Baker who was rumored to have lost his mind after his games. Another batch of siblings — God, the Capitol loved that.

Finally — and much to your relief — the District Twelve Reaping began. Chris and Claire had told you before of the Victor for Twelve. Jack Krauser. He was cutthroat and viscous and had a bad run in his games. He’d been chased through the jungle by Mutts, Mutts that no one knew looked like but were rumored to resemble his fellow deceased Tribute. So, ever since then, he’d been hellbent on making live a living hell for all of his Tributes. Somehow a twisted revenge on the Capitol.

His Tributes, however, caught your eye. Helena Harper, seventeen years old and volunteered for her younger sister. Noble, very noble of her. But it wasn’t Helena who caught your interest. Rather, it was the male Tribute.

Leon Kennedy — nineteen years old with golden hair and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. He looked mortified as his name was called, like he was wanted to drop dead then and there. You couldn’t blame him. Twelve had the least advantage. There were only around five Victors to come from Twelve in the history of the Games.

But there was something about him. Some innocent yet driven nature he had that made you lean forward in your seat, eyes glued to the screen. This did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room. Chris and Claire exchanged a look, Allium thought close to nothing of it. But Piers, he knew what it was. Fascination, the way your eyes widened and your focus never unwavering from the boy your age on the screen. The way he composed himself and took his fate with stride.

Something in you — all the survival instincts that Chris and Claire had put into you — it all vanished. And it was replaced by a lingering sense of fascination for this boy. And the need to make sure he made it out alive.

Even as the screen shut off and Allium mentioned something about having dinner served, you didn’t move. Not as Piers started up a conversation with Chris about what the arena may be this year. Not as Claire decided to come and sit beside you. You knew what was coming.

“What’re you thinking about?” She asked, looking at you as you sat on the sofa, eyes still trained on the blank television screen. She knew full well what you were thinking about. She wasn’t born yesterday. She just needed you to say it.

You sat in silence for a moment, pictures of Leon Kennedy running through your mind. He was from Twelve, you were from One. You weren’t supposed to mix. It was like oil and water. But, something about that boy drew you in. Maybe the kindness in his eyes that made it so obvious he wasn’t cut out for this. Maybe the way he’d quickly recovered and took his Reaping with stride. But no, there was just something about him. He wasn’t supposed to be subjected to this.

With this on your mind, you turned your head, looking at Claire as she awaited your answer. You knew this confession would damn you, you knew it could be the reason you may die in that arena. But consequences be damned. You knew that you had to do it.

“I’m thinking about how I can get that boy out alive.”

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