#not like we can actually run it by him lol

[vaguely-concerned]

just for fun this time during 'sea of blood' I counted out all the venatori corpses I think we can be pretty sure were lucanis' handiwork before we show up (not including the ones he kills in his initial cutscene, and with an assumption that he's been at work mainly up and down in the areas we move through until we find him, not behind the locked door -- I think that's mostly the work of rampaging undead and other venatori-hoisted-by-their-own-petard suchlikes). can thus happily inform you lucanis has killed at least 32 venatori before rook and company get there. at least one of them he's impaled on their own weird crystal spike things the venatori mages cast as an AOE attack and that they're trying to keep him contained with when we find him. so he's clearly been keeping busy lol. that's my boy dispensing poetic justice and claiming some enrichment in his enclosure while he's at it good for him!

[lvis44]

Cabin Fever - Pt. 3 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: A bit more drama for you guys tonight but this is nothing compared to what we've got coming up, oopsie lol. Hoping to get the next part out quickly so it kinda aligns with the holidays in real time! I would also formally like to start an important conversation about why the hell this man only seems to own winter jackets the color of a highlighter (im sure it's for safety when snowboarding but pls). I love you all and I'm so happy you guys are enjoying our angsty little Christmas fic!

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

**italics are a jump back in time**

The moment you make your way downstairs the next morning you are ready to turn and run back up to your room. You can hear everyone in the kitchen already, much to your surprise. Their voices are much louder than you would have wanted but you carry on, aware that the only way you’re getting coffee is by showing your face in there.

“Well good morning sleepy head! I was wondering when you’d show up.” Your dad greets you warmly.

“Hey I was up long before any of you yesterday.” You argue as he pulls you into a side hug.

“I do believe I was up before you.” Lewis pipes up with a smirk.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” You grumble, trying to conceal the roll of your eyes but when you meet Lewis’ gaze you know you’ve failed, “I need coffee, lots of it.”

Tom laughs from over at the coffee bar where he seems to be making himself some sort of fancy espresso, “Coming right up.”

You thank him, taking a seat next to your brother at the island, watching the chaos ensuing on the other side of the kitchen. Your mother, Beatrice, and Vanessa are in what seems to be party planning mode. They’re rummaging through cupboards and running back and forth to the fridge, Vanessa has a notebook out creating some sort of list, Beatrice is loudly reading some recipe from her phone.

“How long has this been going on?” You ask the men at the counter, trying to keep your voice low.

“About twenty minutes, they’ve probably got another twenty in them.” Lewis says, picking up his coffee and watching the scene himself.

You let out a deep breath, already exhausted by the amount of energy flowing through the room, praying you don’t somehow get sucked into it as well.

“Y/N, thank goodness you’re up!” Vanessa says excitedly, finally noticing your presence on one of her trips around the kitchen.

“Good Morning.” You respond softly, trying not to allow any chance of being roped into whatever is going on.

“So,” Vanessa's voice comes out chipper and matter of fact as she puts her palms down on the counter, evidently ready to give you the full run down, “I felt so bad yesterday, I had so many things planned for a fancy breakfast and the weather just had to ruin it all so I really want to make up for all of it today. Thank you again for pulling that off yesterday, I was so grateful, but I want a big fancy family brunch, we haven't had one in so so long and I’ve been thinking about it since I started planning this trip. And I don’t want it to be our Christmas morning brunch, I want it to be its own special moment, ya know?”

You can tell that your eyebrows have gotten higher on your forehead with every word that she has said, speaking faster than you could ever comprehend at the early hour. You hear your brother take a deep breath from next to you as Lewis chuckles lowly.

“I’m sure it will be wonderful, very talented ladies doing the cooking.” Tom tells his daughter before setting a delicious smelling cup of coffee down in front of you, “Here you go Y/N.”

“Thank you, it smells fantastic.” You say sincerely, happily wrapping your chilly hands around the warm cup.

“It better, I brought my own beans and everything. That should be the best cup of coffee you’ve had in your life.” He tells you proudly.

“It was a phenomenal cup of coffee.” Lewis says with an amused smile on his face, one that Tom seems to read as more genuine than you think it really is.

“Very good, very very good.” Dylan is quickly agreeing.

“Now listen,” Vanessa’s voice is quick to grab your attention again, “you did such an amazing job yesterday with breakfast and then helping with all the storm cleanup,”

Before she can finish Lewis lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff, cutting her off, “I don’t know if I would call whatever she was doing yesterday helping.” His voice is muffled by the rim of his coffee mug but you can hear the cheek to his voice, more teasing than the jabby tone it usually carries for you, you assume it's because of the current company.

You open your mouth to defend yourself but your brother is joining in quickly, “I mean she made a valiant effort but I do think I have to agree with Lewis on this one.” He’s laughing as he pinches at your side.

You try to find the right words to argue your defense but you realize you really can’t, thinking back to your ways of helping the day before. 

You had started strong, initially heading out after breakfast to try to clean up all the branches that had been blown into the yard, that lasted for only twenty minutes before Lewis and Dylan were getting the plow and skidoo out of the garage. Once the big toys were out you had no more interest in your handheld rake and shovel. You had gone over to inspect the new fun equipment but were quickly shooed away by both Lewis and your brother, both claiming you were going to get in the way and possibly end up hurting yourself. You had accepted defeat, heading back to your sad pile of branches before once again getting quite distracted by the fun sound of the engine on the skidoo. You had done your best to act as if you were still working but you had ended up watching Lewis zip around the yard for much longer than you would have liked to admit. There was something about his level of both control and chaos behind the handlebars that scratched your brain just right and it irked you and brought you immense satisfaction all at once. Once your brother had gotten into the swing of plowing, Lewis following him down the hill to keep Vanessa's mind at ease, you had gotten back to your sad attempt at branch removal, by the time they made it back up to the house you were collecting your armful. 

“Y/N you do know that it’s been a full hour and you don’t even have enough sticks to make a mouse a campfire, right?” Lewis had taunted you when he saw you walking across the driveway as he removed his goggles, your brother laughing as he hopped out of the plow.

“Oh fuck off, at least I was doing something, you were just joyriding.” You said sassily, quickly changing course so you weren’t walking directly past him.

“I,” He started, his voice long and drawn out to dramatically make his point, “was keeping your brother safe. The buddy system is very important, you know.”

“A knight in shining,” You started to say but before you could get the whole sentence out you were falling flat on your ass, your abysmal stick pile flying everywhere.

“Woah Y/N, shit you alright?” Your brother was quick to react, leaving his open truck door to run over to you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Lewis huffed out, also quickly making his way over to you.

They had both been there within an instant, squatting next to you to make sure you were alright. Your brother was handling you like fine china even though he could tell you were okay, Lewis however was immediately giving you shit.

“You do realize we’ve been here for like twelve hours and this is the second time you’ve fallen in front of me, right?” The tone of his voice was unamused despite offering you his hand to help pull you up.

“I did not fall last night.” You had tried to defend yourself as he got you to your feet, your brother still giving you a worried look like he thought you had secretly broken something.

“Because I caught you.” He had quickly pointed out.

“Whatever.” You grumbled as you bent down to collect your stick pile, admittedly leaving a good half of them behind before once again heading toward your brother's brush pile off by the shed. Before you could even make it half way, a very well aimed snowball was colliding with your ass cheek, once again knocking the sticks out of your arms. 

“I am going to fucking kill you.’ You had exclaimed loudly, quickly gathering a large armload of snow to form into your own snowball before turning around and whipping it in their direction. You ended up hitting your brother, immediately feeling a little bad because you assumed it had come from Lewis in the first place. Lewis let out a cackle when the snowball hit your brother, evidently pleased that he hadn’t been the one to get in trouble.

“Oh hell no, that was meant for you.” Dylan had said, also laughing but incredibly serious, his own snowball already being packed tightly to whip at Lewis. Much to your pleasure, Dylan was much closer to Lewis and was much stronger than you so you could tell the impact didn’t feel amazing when it finally slapped into his chest.

“I just thought you should put some ice on it after that fall, I was trying to be helpful.” Lewis laughed as he put his arms up to guard himself from any further snowballs being sent his way. You and your brother exchanged a look, both of you loading up again, hurling snow in Lewis’ direction.

He screamed as he turned to run, his snow gear making him much less agile than he would normally be. He had finally found steady footing, his own snowballs being sent in both of your directions, all three of you in a fit of laughter. Somewhere along the line your alliance with your brother had crumbled, his snowballs being sent your way as well, no longer reserved for just Lewis. By the time you finally called truce you had all been absolutely soaked, your stomachs hurting from laughing so hard and your pile of sticks long forgotten. When you made your way back to the house you had found yourself very surprised at how playful and fun that time with Lewis had been but you decided that it must have been a bit of a fluke, knowing it wouldn’t last the rest of the day.

You try to think of a way to argue your defense but you have to admit to yourself that you really can’t, you truthfully didn’t do any actual storm cleanup yesterday.

“It’s the thought that counts, I tried.” You grumble into your mug as the two men laugh.

“Well, either way, you absolutely slayed it with breakfast and putting up with them,” Vanessa gives you a smirk, trying to take away their ammunition, “so I want you to just relax this morning, Moms and I will take care of all things brunch, you just enjoy the pretty scenery and your amazing coffee.”

You smile at her, mouthing a thank you, grateful that you are not expected to be part of the brunch circus that is unfolding in the kitchen before you. Your mother and Beatrice are still frantically figuring out if they have everything for some recipe that they have selected. You sit back, watching as Vanessa returns to her chaos with your mothers, seeming weirdly at home within it. Tom and your father begin loudly discussing just where Tom is sourcing his coffee beans, raising the volume of the kitchen just that much more. You go to turn to your brother, only to find him standing from his seat to rinse out his coffee cup. Lewis is grabbing his phone and eagerly taking a call, leaving the room rapidly. You let out a sigh, choosing to make your way into the den with your coffee, hoping for some level of peace in there. The room is cozy, a fire already going and a light snow falling outside the large windows. You try to settle into one of the plush couches but as you sit there you feel yourself growing more and more aggravated. On one side you can hear your family in the kitchen, all talking loudly about different subjects that don’t even meld together into anything coherent, on the other side you can hear Lewis’ muffled voice on the phone. You can’t actually make out anything that he’s speaking about but the low timbre is enough to be disruptive. You find it hard to believe that in a house of this size you can’t find any silence, yet here you are, you shouldn’t be shocked with it being your family. You decide you can only take so much and come to the conclusion that you would rather be out in the cold and quiet than in here with the chatter. You take your coffee and head off to the foyer to find your winter gear to bundle up, the better idea of just going to your room nowhere to be seen in your head. You get as cozy as possible, grabbing a blanket out of the den before heading back to the kitchen.

“I think I’m just gonna go sit out back for a little while and appreciate the view while I have my coffee.” You awkwardly announce as you make your way to the backdoor, raising your blanket in your hand as you do.

“That sounds absolutely lovely, enjoy yourself!” Beatrice exclaims, overly enthusiastic about your plans.

When you first step out of the house you begin to question your plans, the cold air immediately hitting your face and wrapping you in an unforgiving cocoon, but the moment the door closes behind you, you’re at peace. The door seals your family and their loud chatter away wonderfully, just the gentle howl of the wind and small noises of things falling in the forest left to be heard. You make your way across the covered deck, settling into one of the luxurious outdoor couches overlooking the large backyard and forest. You snuggle as far as possible into your blanket, trying to keep as much of your body heat as possible. You can feel a deep sigh leave your body as you take in your surroundings, admitting to yourself that as much as you hate winter, you do love the beauty of the blanketing of snow. You sit in silence for a while, just sipping your coffee and enjoying the peaceful way the world is waking up, the snow falling gently. It sadly doesn’t take long for your silence to be interrupted, the door opening behind you. You let out a huff when you see who is making their way outdoors.

“Ocupado.” You say sassily as you turn your attention back out to the view in front of you.

Lewis just scoffs, making his way over to sit on one of the couches near you.

“Seriously, I just need some silence. Do you have nowhere else to go?” You groan childishly, seeing him settling into his seat.

“I let you get warm in front of my fire yesterday, I think you can share the silence of your deck with me now.” He says, his voice just as sassy.

You go to argue with him, wanting to tell him that it’s not the same and his fire was in the den, a common area, but you quickly realize that this too is a common area that you have no monopoly over. You decide to bite your tongue, rolling your eyes as he settles deeper into the couch, pulling his phone out. You decide to do the same, feeling awkward staring into the trees now that you have company. It doesn’t take long before the first post from a friend is popping up on your feed. She is back in California, a small party dress on that would have you getting hypothermia here. The post is about a party that you had known would be happening, a fun Christmas get together with a bunch of your friends that you would have loved to have been at, carefree and ridiculous fun. You let out a huff as you scroll through her post, the fomo eating you alive as you do so.

“Thought you wanted silence.” Lewis grumbles from his spot at the sound of your huff, his voice already laced with annoyance. 

“So sorry to disturb you, your highness.” You fire back at him sarcastically.

“It’s just sir, I’m a knight, not technically royalty.” He replies, his voice so cocky that it makes you want to smack him, only stopping when you see the slightly teasing smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes again, not even having the energy to come up with something witty to say back to him in the moment.

“Seriously though, what’s got you in such a mood?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious, much to your surprise. 

“I’m not in a mood.” You mutter, burrowing further into your blanket, your attention back on your phone.

He lets out a chuckle at your response, “Yeah the huffing and puffing really sells that narrative well.”

“Oh shut up, you know I don’t particularly want to be here, just let it go.” You say quietly, not wanting your family to hear your disdain for your surroundings.

“I know, and me being here probably isn’t helping that, but it seemed like there was something else going on. Thought you saw something that was upsetting you.” He says casually, shrugging like it’s a normal conversation for the two of you to be having.

You’re taken aback by his casual and genuinely curious nature, not being used to anything like this from Lewis. It takes your guard down, quicker than it should. You let out a sigh, deciding, against your better judgement, to confide in him a little bit. You know he could come back with some level of snippy remark but you were prepared for that, maybe he would actually have a normal conversation with you for once. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but seeing everyone enjoying their lives as adults and doing what they want, where they want, I don’t know, it’s just driving me a bit insane.” You divulge, not getting your point across in quite the way you meant to.

He raises an eyebrow at you, evidently rather confused by what you mean, “I mean, you’re an adult, you spend 99% of the year doing what you want, where you want. What’s the problem?”

You just shake your head, deciding to instead show him the post that caused the initial huff. You watch as his brows furrow while he scrolls through the instagram post you handed him. Quickly his face turns from curious to judgemental. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he finally hands you your phone back.

“So you’d rather be back in the smog of LA where you can’t even tell it’s Christmas, dressed in a skimpy dress with your friends? You’d prefer that to fresh mountain air, a white Christmas, and your family that loves you?” His tone is belittling as he reads the situation completely incorrectly, his questions coming out more as statements, as if nothing that you say now will change his mind.

Your jaw drops at the accusation, a loud scoff leaving your throat as you snatch your phone back from him, “How dare you, that was not the point I was trying to make.” You begin to argue before he’s cutting you off.

“You see those people all the time Y/N, how often do you see any of your family?” He raises his brow in challenge but doesn’t give you time to formulate a response before he’s carrying on, “We all know you don’t want to be here, just suck it up, a little bit of winter mountain air and family time isn’t going to kill you.” He doesn’t wait for a rebuttal, he just stands from his seat as if he’s just finished reprimanding a child and walks away, back inside.

He leaves you in your seat, silent and fuming but also leaving you feeling a tad guilty. He is correct, you don’t want to be here, but it has nothing to do with you preferring to be out in a skimpy dress in LA, it’s about your freedom. Having the freedom to do as you please and be where you want, something you haven’t had a ton of in your life. You hate that everyone knows that you would prefer to be somewhere else, making you feel as if you’re almost a burden. You hate that Lewis feels that he has the right to make such deep assumptions about you and treat them as fact and you hate even more that he feels he has the right to lecture you based on those assumptions. 

You end up staying out on the back deck much longer than you had originally planned, only finally making your way back indoors when Vanessa announces that brunch is served. You do your best to ignore him, not even looking in his direction. Instead you spend most of brunch quizzing Vanessa on things about her brunch that in all honesty you aren’t particularly interested in, but listening to Vanessa explain how he gets her eggs to fluffy is much better than having to even think about dealing with the man sitting at the other end of the table.

It irks you that you can hear him chatting so freely and happily down the table, as if he hadn’t accosted you on the porch mere hours beforehand. You find yourself already making a plan for escape before you’ve even cleared your plate.

Avoiding him throughout the rest of the day ends up being shockingly easy. You take an extra long time getting ready before helping Vanessa and your mom with some last minute gift wrapping. You can’t help but laugh when you see that Vanessa's “last minute stuff” actually appears to be a majority of her gifts, but you don’t complain, knowing it will take up more of your time, and in turn help in your game of avoidance. You can hear Lewis chatting off in the distance, your father quizzing him eagerly on his car collection after hearing he added something new. Lewis gushed with ease, thoroughly entertaining your fathers questions and while it could be considered a nice conversation you felt like it sounded arrogant, flashy. 

“Boys and their toys.” Your mom muttered with a laugh, also listening to bits of the conversation, your father now seemingly showing Lewis photos of a car he had back in the nineties.

“Tell me about it, I couldn’t for the life of me get Dylan out of that plow truck when we first bought it and the snow hadn’t even fallen yet.” Vanessa exclaims, shaking her head.

You just laugh as you lean back to stare out the window for a moment, admiring the way the world is beginning to turn blue as the sun goes down. As if he’s noticed it getting dark at the very same moment, Dylan is bursting into the room talking about Christmas lights.

“Get out, we are not finished in here Mr.” Vanessa is quickly squealing, throwing her body in front of the few remaining unwrapped gifts.

“Okay, okay,” Dylan laughs, throwing his hand over his eyes before continuing, “What I was saying is the lights in the forest look like they stayed up through the storm! It’s getting dark so I was hoping we could all take a walk out there, it’ll be beautiful.”

“That sounds nice Dyl, give us just a little time to get ready.” You say softly, eager to see the lights that have your brother so excited.

“Sweet, I’ll go let the guys know.” He says like a little kid, whipping around to go inform them of the new plans.

“He made an absolute wonderland out there, you guys are going to love it.” Vanessa says, already standing up to collect the remaining wrapping paper, shoving things away like she’s now on a time crunch.

You take that as your sign to go change and get ready for a winter walk. When you go to head upstairs you finally cross paths with Lewis who seems to be headed to his own room, you pause for a moment before flicking your gaze away and trying to move past him.

“Joining us on the walk?” He asks, his voice cold, sounding like he’s expectant of a no.

“Uh, yeah, of course.” You waver slightly, caught off guard that he had any words for you at all. You wished your voice had come out stronger, not wanting him to feel like he had any sort of upperhand, that he had gotten under your skin.

He does actually look surprised, his eyebrows twitching up in a certain judgemental look of disbelief before he is once again turning on his heel. He doesn’t say a word, just walks away to his bedroom.

When you make your way back downstairs, everyone is there and waiting. Dylan is animatedly explaining how he set up with power for the lights and how they follow all of the groomed paths in a certain pattern. Once he notices that you’re there he is directing everyone to follow him to the back yard, still explaining his tree lighting process on the way. You can’t help the grimace that leaves your body when you step outside, the temperature having dropped drastically since you were out here earlier. You try to just burrow further into your coat, not wanting to complain after being made so aware of your attitude earlier today.

As you wander the paths you find yourself mesmerized, Vanessa was right about the absolute wonderland of it all. The glittery lights look like stars, spanning higher up trees than you would like to think about your brother being, but regardless they are breathtaking. You find yourself falling away from the group a bit, too caught up in admiring the gorgeous trees and trying to keep as much of your warmth in as possible. Your family carries on walking, unaware of your sudden slow pace, Lewis however seems to notice and slows down himself. So much that you almost trip over him, having been blissfully unaware of his presence.

“You okay?” He asks you when you’re steady on your feet.

“I’m just fine Lewis.” Your voice is as cold as the outdoor air as you avoid looking in his direction.

“Well, from where I’m standing, you’re shaking like a leaf.” His tone has lost its earlier harshness but still carries that bit of arrogance as you catch him smirking at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Just wore the wrong jacket, I’ll be fine.” You argue, keeping your voice short but still pulling your thin jacket tighter. You're mentally cursing yourself for not having worn your puffer.

“Do you want to head back? I’ll walk with you.” His offer catches you off guard, his voice sincere and almost kind as he continues to stare at you, the smirk gone.

“I’m fine,” You say yet again, your voice slightly quieter now, “Dylan worked hard on this, I’ll survive.”

Just as you once again reiterate your argument a gust of wind comes through, picking up the loose snow and blowing it around you sending yet another chill directly down your spine. Lewis evidently notices the cold seeping deeper into your bones, taking it upon himself to make the decision. 

“Y/N and I are gonna head back to the house, she’s getting a little too cold, gonna get her something warm, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” He yells ahead to your family against your will. 

“Oh, hun, are you okay?” Your mother is immediately concerned.

“I’m fine, I’m not going back.” You start to insist but Lewis is stepping in yet again.

“She’s fine, just wore the wrong jacket. The lights look amazing Dylan, well come see them when she’s warmed up.” Before you can say anything he’s starting to usher you back down the path, Dylan is thanking him and Vanessa is telling you where to find more blankets. 

Lewis is guiding you down the path, his body close against your back and his grip firm on your waist as if you don’t know the way. You hate the way he is manhandling you but you have to admit you are relishing in the warmth coming from the proximity. You don’t allow it to go on for too long, wrenching yourself out of his grip once you’re far enough away from your family. You pick up your pace, both in a show of defiance and actually quite wanting to get back to the warmth of the house. You hear him let out a scoff behind you as you throw your little tantrum.

The heat of the house is immediately welcoming, wrapping around you like a hug the moment you open the door. You take a moment to let the heat sink into your bones before even moving to remove your jacket. Lewis stands there watching you for a moment, just shaking his head before taking off his own large puffer.

“What?” You groan, assuming he has a comment to make.

“You know sub zero temps usually require a little more than a flimsy fashion jacket from the mall, right?” His voice is laced with judgement again, the kindness from the forest long gone.

“Oh, would you just fuck off!” You finally properly snap, whipping your head to face him.

““I’m just saying you’re a grown adult and you’re acting like winter is gonna kill you, you can’t even prepare for it” His response is quick, his tone just as snippy as yours, dripping with arrogance.

“I have a fucking parka in my room, I didn’t know how cold it was.” You throw back at him.

“Mmm sure, or you just wanted to look good for the little walk.” He accuses you, his tone condescending.

“Look good for who? I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere!” You fully yell at him, finally done with his jabs.

He ignores the question, his voice raising but not yet actually yelling, “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s good for you to be in the middle of nowhere once in a while?”

“I do not need some asshole who doesn’t even know me giving me fucking life advice, thank you very much.” You snap, no longer yelling but your voice is harsh.

“Well maybe you do because from where I’m standing you would rather be back in LA partying with your friends to post on Instagram than at your brother's beautiful new house with your whole family that loves you. They fucking want you here and you get to fucking see them, stop acting like its pulling fucking teeth for you to be here.” He actually yells this time, momentarily stunning you.

“Why do you even fucking care so much?” You just about scream, praying that your family is still far away from the house. The two of you haven’t even made it out of the foyer yet.

He just stares at you, his eyes hard and his chest heaving slightly. He opens his mouth before quickly snapping it shut, finally letting out a long, deep sigh. “Ya know what, I guess I fucking don’t. Go take a hot shower before you get fucking hypothermia.” He finally mutters harshly as he storms out of the room, his bedroom door slamming shut not long after.

You stand in the foyer, staring down the hallway where he disappeared, still dressed in your winter jacket. You can feel the tears pricking in the back of your eyes, immediately pissing you off that they can be caused by even Lewis. You bite lips, willing the tears to stop, but then you realize, there it is.

It finally feels like Christmas.

[gracefulserpent1207]

SONIC 3 MAJOR SPOILERS!!!

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE FILM

My Sonic 3 Review:

Opening the film with Shadow waking up to memories of Maria I am SICK

Maria... was playing... Live and Learn... on guitar... omg... my heart...

OZZY'S "You stole my hoomans!" LMAOOOOOO

The fact that when Sonic says to Tom "I don't know what I'd do without you, I'd probably be a completely different hedgehog", they cut to Shadow - that is PEAK cinematography!

SHADOW ON HIS MOTORBIKE!!!

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY AGENT STONE ON A MOTORBIKE HELLO???

Tails wanted to go the chao garden he is so adorable I love him so much 😭 and the look on his face when they start performing he's just a little guy 🥺

THE WAY THE CHAO WERE RUNNING ABOUT WHEN THE CHAO GARDEN WAS ATTACKED WAS SO FUNNY

Eggman watching telenovelas is so accurate actually

Agent Stone is just so in love isn't he? In fact the Stobotnik scenes in this film were some of my favourite scenes - Lee Majdoub you're amazing

Keanu Reeves was AMAZING as Shadow

Shadow looked so scared when he was put in the tank and it was filling with water poor baby 🥺

One thing that was NOT on my Sonic 3 bingo chart was COMMANDER WALTERS FUCKING DYING??? THEY KILLED THE OLIVE GARDEN GUY???

Maria drawing a bunny face over Shadow in the tank she is so precious I love them both so much 😭

The little montage of Shadow and Maria hanging out made me SICK (in a good way) especially that scene when he's running through the halls pulling her behind him on her rollerskates LOL

NOOOOO SHADOW YOU'RE NOT AN ALIEN FREAK DON'T LISTEN TO THAT STUPID MOVIE

"There's still light, even when the star's not there anymore" okay so I'm just gonna cry into my popcorn now thx

Stone calling Tails adorable he is so real for that

Eggman saying that he's "undesirable to all possible genders" 🤨🏳️‍🌈 'whoa he's bisexual I didn't know that!'

Speed reference!

"It's like we're in a movie and we're both being played by the same actor! *Slowly stare into camera*" That fourth wall break was BRILLIANT

I can't decide whether Tom's puppet of himself is absolutely hilarious or absolutely terrifying

The montage of Eggman and Gerald lol! (but poor Stone was left out ☹️)

The entire London break-in scene was great! Especially when Knuckles finally got to break the glass!

REVENGE GUAC

Can we take a minute to appreciate the complete contrast between Gerald saying "a WOMAN in the MILITARY 😒" and Shadow saying that the girl in the telenovela should kill both the guys fighting over her because she's "not a prize to be won"?

Also Shadow watching a telenovela and telling the girl to kill both guys is so accurate LMAO he really said 'YOU LEAVE THAT LATINA ALONE!'

Ngl for a hot second I GENUINELY thought Tom was dead that was SCARY

Are we gonna talk about the fact that Gerald and Shadow were ready to kill themselves if it meant getting revenge?

The way Shadow's face changes and he flashbacks to Maria when he sees Sonic knelt next to Tom begging him to wake up... The parallels between Sonic and Shadow in this film... Oh my goodness...

Sonic getting mad enough to steal the Master Emerald from Knuckles was also NOT on my Sonic 3 bingo chart - I thought we were gonna see them fight each other for a sec which was CRAZY

I'm not the biggest Wade fan but Sonic effortlessly taking the Master Emerald from him and him replying "well I tried" was comedy GOLD - all that training in the Knuckles series for nothing huh 😂

Sonic turning super for vengeance purposes oh my goodness...

Maria's death scene really gave me goosebumps - the way Commander Walters shouts "don't shoot they're children!" - the way Shadow's face changes when he sees Maria dead - the way Gerald was crying...

I think it really says a lot about G.U.N that in this version, they didn't even shoot Maria but they were still actively responsible for her death - that officer DID shoot and he DID try and aim at Maria and that explosion WAS caused by him

Obviously I hate G.U.N but I actually feel kinda bad for Walters now like he really did try to save her didn't he 🫤

Both Gerald and Walters refer to Maria AND Shadow as children which I appreciate cuz it shows how young Shadow really was when everything went to hell for him - he's just a baby your honour he didn't MEAN to blow up earth 🥺

Sonic attacking Shadow in super form was just... WOW! He was REALLY angry wasnt he?

SUPER SONIC VS SUPER SHADOW??? HOLY SHIT!!! THAT BATTLE WAS EPIC!!! 🤯

Sonic almost killing Shadow over him almost killing Tom was a really great way to relate Sonic and Shadow's stories - Sonic coming around when Shadow points to his heart, thinking about what Tom said at the start of the film parallelling Shadow then coming around after remembering what Maria said to him... This is one hell of a film!

Sonic and Shadow watching the sun come up together as Shadow repeats what Maria says about light and stars 😭

"Don't tell me you've got a catchphrase..." "Yep, and everyone loves it!" Another fourth wall break that did NOT disappoint.

LIVE AND LEARRRRRN!!! HANGING ON THE EDGE OF TOMMOROW— 🎶

THEY DID THE SA2 POSE!!! I REPEAT, THEY DID THE SA2 POSE!!! AND IN SUPER FORM TOO!!!

Did they just... fucking... incinerate Gerald... wtf.... RIP I guess...

Shadow attacked those robots with SUPER CHOAS SPEARS in one scene!!! Which is AWESOME!!!

Eggman switching sides cuz even he knows blowing up the world is a bad idea 👍

I could go on and on and on about the Super Sonic and Super Shadow scene IT WAS SO GOOD!!!

Sonic falling to earth gave me a heart attack. Tails then falling to earth whilst trying to save Sonic also gave me a heart attack. Knuckles going to save them both making me think he was also gonna fall to earth gave me a third heart attack.

The way I physically leaned forward in my seat when Shadow took off his inhibitor rings—

They pissed on the moon.

We've seen Shadow smile so much in this film and it is SO refreshing to see! That smile right before he and Sonic team up to attack those robots Gerald sends after them is my favourite smile we've ever seen on him.

Eggman dedicated his last speech before dying to Stone 😭😩🥹 AND STONE SAYING "I CAN'T LOSE YOU AGAIN" THEY BETTER KISS IN THE NEXT FILM I SWEAR—

Team Sonic hug 🥹

Ending on the race was perfect (bonus points for Ozzy barking with subtitles again because that was HILARIOUS)

WE GON RUN IT RUN IT RUN IT TILL WE RUNNING OUTTA ROAD 💃💃💃

OMG AMY! AMY AMY AMY OH MY GOODNESS AMY! HELLO AMY! I'VE MISSED YOU SWEET AMY! AMY AMY AMY AMY AMY AMY!!! I GOT SO EXCITED WHEN I SAW THAT HAMMER! AMY ROSE! HI!!! YOU LOOK SO GOOD!!! AMY AMY AMY!!!

Oh yeah and Metal Sonic.

AMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!

So great to see that Shadow's NOT dead (although tbf I did kinda expect that - it would've been unlikely that they genuinely kill him off when he's such a popular character)

Honestly I think the END end credits scene was a perfect set up for a Shadow spinoff, like they HAVE to make one now

I also think the two end credits scenes together show that Eggman isn't really dead either - again it would be unlikely for them to kill him off PLUS if Shadow managed to chaos control himself out of there he could've easily gone back for Eggman too (and I mean who else is gonna be responsible for creating Metal Sonic?)

AMY, PEOPLE, AMY!!!

Overall, I think it's pretty clear that I LOVED this film! It was amazing and I'm already excited for the next one lol! ❤️

[pacific-coast-hockey]

I like Klim Kostin's shredemption (Sharks redemption) arc a lot I must say...I think often of the anon who went into k @18minutemajor's inbox right after the trade to tell them Klim was locker room poison and everyone hates him so bad. 5 seconds after he gets off the plane in San Jose DQ is like actually that's my biological son and the team is like yeah if anything happens to Klim we're killing everyone in this room and then ourselves; then DQ exits the scene due to his inside thoughts becoming outside thoughts and the strict new 1st grade teacher Warso says well I don't know about this Klim guy and benches him for one million years; but it's too late, every single post about him on Tumblr is now filled with beautiful imagines about sexually shredding Klim like he's a chicken who just got out of the crock pot and we need taco meat...

it's like how every Pens fan was like lol good luck with Mikael Granlund and his shitty attitude, and now he's like the only person on this godforsaken team we can trust to be on a line with William Eklund bc Ekky respects him too much to run science experiments on him. It's interesting bc there's a lot of focus on best players and elite player development for playoff teams. But with the Sharks being so fucking bad and so deep in the rebuild, the past few seasons are like, yeah we're building a team culture to raise good young players but also many guys are here to figure out their shit out. And sometimes that works (Mackblack) and sometimes it really doesn't (every European guy who went back home the past off season)

But really when I think about it, at the end of the day, all of this feels like a skill issue for other teams. I'm sorry your hearts weren't ready and open to receive Klim Kostin. I will light a votive candle for you at the crockpot.

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material Ch 9 (Captain Price Fic) - The Set Up!

Chapter 1  Chapter 1 (Shorter Version) Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

@darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal(To the other’s who want me to tag you when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments) A/N: Hello, everyone! So, it seems the Captain has you right where he wants you. No matter how much you try to slip away, there’s no escaping him—he’s determined, and he will have you. 😉 This chapter might feel a little longer as I’ve focused on building up the chase and the tension between you two. But I promise, it’s worth it! If you’re feeling impatient, feel free to scroll ahead to when the Captain finally ‘captures’ you. 😏 LOL! Enjoy the ride, and let me know what you think! ❤️

The door creaked open, and in stepped the doctor, holding a clipboard with the results of Y/N's x-rays and scans. He gave her a once-over, then glanced at the paper before meeting her eyes.

"Alright, Ms. Y/N, good news. No concussion, your neck’s just a little twisted from the impact. Your arm, though—well, that’s definitely going to need some time to heal, but we can work with it." He made a note, looking at her bandaged face. "The cuts on your face will need some care, but nothing too serious. Just take some painkillers when you eat, and you should be good to go."

Y/N sighed in relief but winced at the sting of her injuries. She was just about to ask if she could leave without the next part when the doctor added, “Now, we need someone to sign for you to be discharged and for the medication prescription. I’m assuming your partner—” He paused, glancing at Price, who was still leaning against the bed, looking annoyingly perfect—“can handle that?”

Before Y/N could protest, Price was already nodding, a smirk playing on his lips. "Aye, I can do that," he replied smoothly, as though he’d been expecting it.

The doctor, clearly oblivious to the irritation bubbling up inside her, glanced between them with a raised eyebrow, then nodded and scribbled something down on his clipboard. “Great. I’ll get the paperwork ready. Just make sure she follows the painkiller instructions.”

Y/N glared at Price, her good arm crossed over her chest. “I swear, if you start acting like we’re actually a couple—”

Price shot her a quick, playful wink. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, love!”

The doctor left, and Y/N turned to look at Price, narrowing her eyes. “You’re unbearable,” she muttered.

Price leaned in closer, his voice lowering to something almost flirtatious. “You know you like it.”

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes, but it was impossible to ignore the spark of something—embarrassment, frustration, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of... affection?

As the minutes dragged on, Y/N lay there, staring at the sterile ceiling, her mind racing but her body unable to do anything more than ache in protest. Price sat beside her, arms crossed, exuding a mix of concern and frustration, and it was clear to her that the tension between them was building. The hum of hospital activity around them did nothing to break the silence, only adding to the weight in the air. She could feel his eyes on her, practically searing through her skin, and she didn’t know if it was his gaze or the pain in her arm that was making her more uncomfortable.

Finally, Price broke the silence with an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got some bloody nerve, you know that? Running around like a madwoman, getting yourself hurt like that.”

Y/N turned her head towards him, raising an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement breaking through the discomfort. “Excuse me?”

He leaned forward, his voice low but filled with that trademark commanding tone she couldn’t escape. “The moment I found out... and then seeing all those bloody gifs from your colleagues flooding the chat... I knew I had to come see for myself. Make sure you weren’t in a body bag. All for what? A USB?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt trying to creep in. “I wasn’t the one in the body bag, now was I?”

“No, but you nearly bloody were!” He shot back, his voice sharp with frustration. “You fought someone twice your size, for god’s sake. What the hell were you thinking? And that slap to your face—” He gestured toward the ugly bruise on her cheek. “That wasn’t exactly part of the plan, was it?”

Y/N winced at the reminder but quickly covered it with a snarky smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I have asked them to go easier on me? I had to do what I had to do, Price. That USB had information that would’ve blown the whole operation to pieces. If I didn’t keep it safe, we’d be looking at a lot more than a bruise on my face.”

Her tone shifted, just a touch of defiance in her voice. “I did what I had to do. And they fought the wrong bitch. Unfortunately for them, though, I’m too bloody good at what I do.”

Price scowled, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer. “Don’t make it sound like it’s just another day at the office, Y/N. You’re not invincible. You can’t just take a hit and keep moving.” His voice softened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze remained. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Her eyes softened, a small, almost imperceptible smile pulling at her lips, but she wasn’t about to let him have the last word just yet. “What do you care? I’m an operator. It’s my job. It’s not like—”

She stopped, realizing she had said too much. But before she could backpedal, Price cut her off, his voice suddenly more serious.

“I care because, damn it, I don’t want to see you thrown around like that. You’re not just some bloody operator to me.”

The way he said it, with so much sincerity, made her heart stutter in her chest. His usual teasing edge was gone, replaced by something raw, something real. She didn’t know how to respond, how to fight back against the warmth creeping up her neck.

“John…” she whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She wanted to say something sarcastic, to brush off the strange flutter in her chest, but his steady gaze had her frozen. It was almost as if, for the first time, he was letting her see the concern behind the bravado.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, haven’t you?” he said softly, almost to himself.

Y/N was silent for a moment, her pulse racing. She didn’t know what to say, how to make light of it, how to respond without revealing too much. Finally, she simply said, "You should probably stop before you start singing ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love’."

Price’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. But then his expression shifted—his gaze darkened, those piercing blue eyes locking onto hers with such intensity that her breath hitched. It was the look. The one that said more than words ever could.

Y/N felt her stomach flip, her heart racing faster than she could process. She tried to look away, but his stare held her captive, his blue eyes pulling her in like a magnet. The room seemed to shrink, the noise of the hospital fading into nothing as she became acutely aware of every inch of him sitting so close. She felt her face heat up, warmth spreading across her cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Price…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She had to look away, had to break the spell he’d cast over her. But her body wouldn’t cooperate. Her eyes fluttered, and for the first time, she couldn’t find the right words to shield herself from the effect he had on her.

He leaned in just a little, his gaze never leaving hers. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice low, the teasing edge gone, replaced by something softer. Something that made her heart feel like it might burst out of her chest.

Y/N had never wanted to look away more in her life, but she couldn't. She swallowed hard, her mind spinning in a haze, cursing the fact that her face was no doubt as red as a tomato.

"Never mind," she muttered, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She quickly turned her head, avoiding his intense gaze, though she could still feel the weight of it on her skin.

Her eyes darted to the side, desperate to find something—anything—to focus on other than him. But she swore she caught the smallest, most self-assured grin tugging at the corner of Price’s lips. It was as though he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and it made her feel utterly exposed.

She shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of how her pulse quickened every time she thought about his gaze. She didn’t know how to escape it, and for the first time, Y/N realized there was no hiding from the effect John Price had on her.

----------

Price insisted on driving her home, a suggestion that, under normal circumstances, Y/N might have entertained. But these weren’t normal circumstances. She was still too suspicious, too guarded to let him know where she lived. The last thing she needed was him showing up unannounced, and she wasn’t about to let him in on that little detail.

“I’m fine, Price,” she said quickly, sitting up a little straighter. “I’ll head to the unit’s base. My stuff’s there, and I’ve got work tomorrow. I’ll be better off just sleeping there for the night. You know, book in at camp, like we sometimes do.”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening in that way she knew all too well. “Book in? You sure about that? Something smells off.”

Y/N waved him off with a feigned nonchalance, trying her best to sound convincing. “I’m fine, seriously. No need to worry about me.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got that ‘I’m trying to get away from you’ look on your face. What’s really going on?”

She met his eyes, her resolve firm. “Nothing’s going on. Just, you know, work stuff. Base. I'll go home tomorrow.”

Price just stared at her for a moment longer, then sighed, clearly giving in to whatever bizarre reasoning she had going on. “Fine. If you’re so determined, I’ll take you back to the base. But this isn’t over.”

“Great, thanks,” she muttered, trying to suppress a grin. She had won this round.

----------

Once they arrived at the unit’s base, Y/N made a swift exit, eager to put some space between herself and Price. She stepped out of the lift, onto her floor, and walked briskly down the hallway toward the unit’s office. Before she could make it inside, however, a loud chorus of voices stopped her in her tracks.

Her colleagues had clearly been waiting for her, and as she stepped into the room, they erupted into loud cheers and applause.

“Look who’s back! The turtle’s shell is tougher than we thought!” one of them called out with a wide grin, prompting an exaggerated cheer from the others.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop it, you lot. I didn’t ask for a bloody welcome back party.”

Another colleague, waving a mock trophy above his head, added, “Give it up for Y/N, the toughest of them all! No one’s messing with the turtle!”

Her teammates were practically in hysterics, and the teasing continued for several minutes before it finally died down. Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to keep her composure, but deep down, she couldn't help but feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest. It was moments like this—surrounded by her quirky, loyal team—that made all the madness of the job worth it.

“Alright, alright,” she said with a raised hand in mock surrender, her grin impossible to hide.

As her colleagues finally began to disperse, she let out a deep breath, still chuckling at their ridiculous antics. But despite the laughter, her mind wandered back to her earlier encounter with Price—and how, for a brief moment, she almost didn’t mind the idea of him getting a little too close.

----------

Later that evening, Captain Price discovered the truth. Y/N wasn’t staying the night at the base as she had claimed. He saw her—half waddling, half hopping—onto the unit’s bus just as it was about to depart. It was meant to take staff to the nearby train station, a clear sign that she was heading home despite her earlier insistence.

The sight of her settling into a window seat on the crowded bus made him pause. Y/N, caught off guard, locked eyes with him through the glass. Her face froze in surprise for a split second before she quickly turned her head, pretending she hadn’t seen him. Her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her bag as she tried to appear indifferent.

Price stood there outside, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t have to say a word; the weight of his stare said enough. Y/N could feel it pressing on her even as she resolutely avoided looking back.

Her only saving grace was that tomorrow was the weekend. She wouldn’t have to face him—or his inevitable questions—for at least two days. ----------

Y/N stretched lazily on her sofa, her stomach pleasantly full from her third takeout meal of the weekend. A collection of cartons cluttered her coffee table, evidence of her commitment to staying in. Wrapped in her coziest blanket, she scrolled idly through the endless void of streaming options, her mind blissfully blank—except for the persistent notifications on her phone.

Captain Price.

The messages had started Friday evening, a steady stream of charm, wit, and mild exasperation, each one left on read. Ignoring him had been easy at first, the kind of defiance that felt both amusing and oddly satisfying. But by Sunday, the guilt was beginning to creep in, as was the awareness that she was, perhaps, enjoying his attention a little too much.

Friday Evening Price: "Ah, so you are seeing these. Leaving me on read, are we? Cheeky. How about this: a quiet drink, no fuss. Just say the word, and I’ll pick the spot."

Saturday Morning Price: "Still not a peep from you. I’ll bet you’re curled up in bed, hiding under a duvet and feeling quite smug. Enjoy it while you can, love. I’m not that easy to ignore."

Saturday Lunchtime Price: "Alright, Y/N. What’s it going to be—coffee, tea, or something stronger? Whatever it is, my treat. Unless, of course, you’ve decided to make ghosting me your weekend hobby."

Saturday Evening Price: "You’ve got a talent for this, I’ll give you that. Leaving me on read again. What’s the matter, too shy to say no? Let me make it easy for you—just meet me for a bite. No questions, no pressure. Don’t let me starve alone, eh?"

She chuckled softly at that one, but still didn’t respond. Her takeaway had arrived moments later, and her commitment to laziness outweighed any inclination to text back.

Sunday Morning Price: "You’re relentless, aren’t you? Can’t even send me a cheeky little ‘no thanks.’ Fine, I’ll play your game. But if you’re still hiding come midday, don’t think I won’t find out where that flat of yours is."

Her eyes lingered on that one a little longer, her lips twitching into a smirk. She shook her head and set her phone aside. He was bluffing. Probably.

Sunday Lunchtime Price: "Alright, love, this is getting predictable now. Another takeaway, is it? No shame in admitting you’ve run out of ideas. Let me take you somewhere. I promise I won’t bite… unless you ask."

Her laughter bubbled up unbidden as she read the latest message, a part of her almost tempted to respond. But the lure of her blanket and the promise of another nap won out. She placed her phone face down and curled up, thinking smugly that he’d give up eventually.

But then, her phone buzzed again. This time, something about it made her pause. She reached for it hesitantly, her heart skipping a beat as she unlocked the screen.

"You’ve got a wicked streak, leaving me hanging like this. But fair warning, Y/N—I’m even more wicked when I’m crossed."

A moment later, another message buzzed in.

"Monday’s coming, love. You think you’ve won this little game of hide and seek, but let me tell you exactly how it’ll play out. First, I’ll find you the second you walk into the office. Don’t bother looking for an escape—I’ll already be there, waiting."

"And when I do, you’ll have to face me, love. Every glance you’ve been dodging, every word you’ve ignored—it’s all catching up to you. I’ll stand so close you’ll feel my breath against your ear, hear every word I’ve been saving just for you."

"I’ll tell you how much I’ve enjoyed watching you test me all weekend, how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing that pretty face go red when you realize you’ve pushed me too far. And then, Y/N, I’ll make sure you know exactly what happens when you leave me on read again. Ignoring me wasn’t the safer option, was it?"

Y/N’s hand froze mid-swipe on her phone, her heart thudding against her ribs. She could practically feel the heat of his gaze through the screen. The words lingered like a challenge, daring her to respond, but instead, her thoughts raced.

Monday loomed ahead, and with it came the inevitability of seeing Price. If he caught her, there’d be no way to avoid the fallout. The office teasing would go from lighthearted to unbearable in an instant. After all, they were already buzzing with rumors that Captain Price fancied her. The jokes and side-eyes were one thing, but if she gave him an inch, it could spiral into something far worse.

Unprofessional. Embarrassing. Impossible to ignore.

She reminded herself that this wasn’t forever. Just one more week. One week of keeping her head down, playing cordial when necessary, and dodging Price’s relentless pursuit. When her reservist period ended, she could vanish—no awkward confrontations, no more tension.

With that plan in mind, she took a deep breath, determined to defuse the situation. Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, finally drafting a reply she hoped would put him off—without fanning the flames.

"I’m sorry, Captain, for the late response. My dominant hand is the one injured, and I can’t really type easily," she typed, knowing it wasn’t entirely a lie. Her arm had been hurt during the operation and again when she got hit by the police van. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

She hesitated before adding, "As for drinks and dinner, sorry—I’m not feeling well. The painkillers and meds are making me drowsy." Another half-truth.

Satisfied, she hit send, her heart still pounding as the message delivered.

A few minutes after sending the message, her phone buzzed again—this time, a call. She wasn’t even surprised. Of course, it was the Captain.

Y/N stared at the screen, debating whether to answer. She had already crafted the perfect excuse in her message; surely that should have been enough. But the insistent ringing told her otherwise. With a sigh of resignation, she tapped the screen, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Captain,” she said softly, infusing her voice with just enough weariness to sell her excuse. She wasn’t feeling her best, that much was true, but she leaned into the sluggish tone, exaggerating it just a touch.

His deep voice cut through, warm and laced with concern. “You don’t sound well, love. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I didn’t want to trouble anyone,” she replied carefully, keeping her tone neutral. “It’s nothing serious, just the meds making me tired.”

“Still, you should’ve let someone know. You’ve been through the wringer; no one would’ve blamed you for taking it easy.”

She hummed faintly, feigning drowsiness. “I’ll be fine, Captain. Just need to rest.”

There was a pause, long enough to make her glance at the screen to check if the call had dropped. But then his voice came through again, low and insistent. “If you need anything—and I mean anything—you let me know. Don’t go toughing it out on your own.”

“Of course,” she replied, her tone measured. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Get some rest,” he added, the warmth in his voice undeniable. “And Y/N... don’t think for a second I’ll let you off the hook for dodging me all weekend.”

She smiled faintly despite herself. “Goodnight, Captain.”

“Goodnight, love.”

She ended the call, sinking back into her sofa with a quiet exhale. Neutral or not, conversations with Captain Price always left her feeling like she’d just walked a tightrope.

---------

And so, Monday arrived. Y/N was officially excused from the drills due to her injuries, leaving her with more downtime than she cared for. By the afternoon, she had retreated to the rooftop, seeking a quiet moment to herself. The crisp air and the hum of distant activity below offered a brief reprieve.

She wasn’t startled by the sound of footsteps approaching or the creak of the rooftop door swinging open. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

John Price.

The Captain strode toward her with the same calm, unshakable confidence he carried everywhere, his boots crunching softly on the rooftop gravel. His eyes locked onto hers, steady and intense, as he stopped just a few feet away.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, tinged with amusement, “I’d say you put up a good fight this whole time. But technically... you lost.”

Y/N sighed, her fingers momentarily clenching into fists at her sides. Of course. That deal. That ridiculous deal. If he outscored her in the drills, she’d agree to a date. Now, with her injuries keeping her sidelined, she hadn’t even had a chance to compete.

“That’s not exactly fair,” she shot back, leaning into her chair, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “I couldn’t even join the drills. Doesn’t exactly feel like a win for you.”

Price tilted his head slightly, a teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Rules are rules, love. No score from you means my score wins by default. Doesn’t seem like a problem for me.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh through her nose, frustration mixing with reluctant amusement. “So, what? You’re here to rub it in?”

“Not my style,” he replied smoothly, though the glint in his eye said otherwise. He took a step closer, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m here to collect. You owe me a date. After your reservist period, of course. I’ll give you time to prepare yourself.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, caught between irritation and something else she wasn’t ready to admit. “Fine. After the reservist,” she replied finally, her voice firm, though her lips betrayed a faint, reluctant smirk.

Price grinned back, triumphant but impossibly charming. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Her lips twitched as though she might scowl, but she kept her composure. Instead, she turned her gaze back toward the horizon, letting his words linger in the air.

Keep cordial, her inner voice urged. Make it look like you gave up. Just until the reservist period.

----------

Throughout the week, Y/N kept things cordial with Captain Price, her responses measured and her expression neutral. She made sure to maintain a distance, neither too distant nor too familiar. Her usual sharp edge was subdued, but she wasn’t about to let herself get too comfortable, not with the promise of a date hanging over her head.

On the final day of her reservist period, Y/N made her rounds, bidding her chief and colleagues farewell. She offered a polite smile, keeping it brief. "See you all for the next round," she said, her voice calm and steady. She’d done what she came for—no more, no less.

She surrendered her building pass, her movements slow and deliberate, the weight of the week pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her mind was already elsewhere, focused on the quiet evening ahead. The plan was simple: order a ride from the app, go home, and finally take a moment to breathe.

But as she walked toward the gate entrance, her steps faltered. There, leaning casually against his vehicle, was John Price. Arms crossed, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but commanding all the same. The sight of him made her heart skip an unexpected beat.

She hadn’t expected him to be there, not like this, not after the deal had been made. She stopped a few paces away, the weight of the evening, the past week, settling into her chest.

Y/N schooled her expression into neutrality, masking the flicker of surprise that threatened to surface. She came to a stop a few paces away, meeting his steady gaze without wavering.

“Captain,” she said evenly, her tone as measured as her face. “What are you doing here?”

Price straightened slightly, his arms uncrossing as he pushed off the vehicle with an easy grace. His hands slid into his pockets, his demeanor as unhurried as ever. “Thought I’d drive you home,” he replied, his voice calm but laced with a teasing undertone. “Get you comfy, send you off proper.”

Her brows lifted, skepticism flickering across her features before she quickly subdued it. “I thought we had plans for the weekend,” she countered, tilting her head. “Isn’t that what you’re waiting for?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, the faintest hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “We do,” he confirmed, his voice low and deliberate. “But I figured tonight’s about seeing you off, not keeping you waiting. Besides,” he added, stepping closer, “I wanted to make sure you didn’t disappear on me.”

Y/N held her ground, her gaze steady despite the subtle tightening of her grip on her bag. “I gave you my word,” she said simply. “I’m not backing out.”

Price’s grin widened slightly, his head dipping in acknowledgment. “Good,” he murmured, his tone carrying the weight of certainty. “Then let me take care of you tonight. Call it a preview of what’s to come.”

She sighed softly, shifting her weight but making no move to walk past him. “I can handle getting home on my own, you know.”

Y/N sighed softly, her voice steady despite the weariness weighing on her words. “Captain, we’re already seeing each other this weekend. Can’t that be enough?” She straightened her posture slightly, trying to inject just enough firmness into her tone. “I’m tired. I’d really like some space tonight. Besides, I’ve already booked a ride—it’ll be here any minute to take me home.”

Price tilted his head, his lips quirking into that infuriatingly knowing smirk. “Booked a ride, huh?” he drawled, his tone edged with playful suspicion. “Sounds a bit fishy to me.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she let out a quiet, deliberately exasperated sigh, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Fishy? Really?” she asked, her voice drowsy, tired, as if the conversation itself was draining her. “What could possibly be fishy, Captain? You’ve already got me cornered, don’t you? What else is there?”

For a moment, he didn’t reply. Instead, he looked at her, his cerulean blue eyes piercing and unyielding. The intensity of his gaze felt like it could strip away every layer she’d carefully constructed, leaving her flustered and raw. Y/N could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, her throat tightening slightly as she swallowed hard. She considered looking away but found herself unable to break the moment. Against all odds, she held his gaze, her breath catching in her chest.

Her heart raced, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was from the exhaustion or the way his stare seemed to unravel her with disarming ease. It was as if the entire world had narrowed to just the two of them, the quiet tension filling the air like a tangible presence.

Just then, the sound of a car pulling up shattered the spell. Y/N blinked, the moment breaking as her ride arrived, offering a welcome distraction. Price glanced toward the vehicle, his smirk softening into something less teasing, more gentlemanly. Without a word, he stepped forward, pulling the door open for her with effortless grace.

Y/N murmured a quiet thanks, slipping into the car with relief as her pulse began to steady once more.

----------

Saturday arrived, and much to Price’s chagrin, his suspicions were confirmed—she had ghosted him. His messages went unanswered, his calls ignored, and every attempt to reach her was met with the cold reality of being left on read. At first, he tried to rationalize it. She was recovering, after all—injuries from the last operation and being hit by a van weren’t minor. Surely, she just needed time to herself.

But the nagging doubt refused to be silenced. Something didn’t sit right. Price wasn’t one to let things slide easily, especially not when it came to her. Eventually, suspicion got the better of him. He picked up the phone and called Gaz.

“Check on her, mate,” Price said, his tone firm but edged with an undercurrent of frustration. “See if she’s alright or if she’s just... dodging me.”

Gaz, ever loyal, agreed with a chuckle and promised to get back to him.

When Gaz finally called back, his voice carried that unmistakable tone of amusement. “Price,” he began, clearly holding back a laugh, “I hate to break it to you, but it looks like Y/N’s ghosting you. She’s fine. Healthy, alive, and very capable of responding—injuries or not. She’s just… apparently not interested in answering you.”

Price groaned, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. Gaz's teasing on the other end only made it worse. “You’re really going to let her play you like that, Captain?”

Price shot back, trying to suppress his irritation, “I’m not letting her play me. I just need to get her attention.”

Gaz’s voice was laced with amusement as he responded, “Need some help, Captain? You want me to help smoke her out, get her to show her hand?”

Price paused, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. The idea wasn’t half bad. He might’ve preferred a more subtle approach, but if it came to coaxing her out of whatever funk she was in, he’d take any route that worked.

“Yeah,” Price muttered after a beat. “Smoke her out. Let’s see if we can get her to respond.”

Gaz chuckled. “Roger that, Captain. I’ll keep you posted.”

----------

A day later, Gaz messaged Y/N, inviting her out for another meal at the grill house. “Fresh out of reservist, thought you’d fancy a proper catch-up with the team,” he wrote, his tone lighthearted and familiar.

Y/N hesitated before responding. “I really can’t go out right now,” she explained. “Still healing from the injuries. Maybe once I’m fully healed up, I’ll join you guys again. Heck, I can’t even use my dominant arm to put on makeup or cover the scars on my face.”

Gaz read the message and nodded to himself, respecting her honesty. “Fair enough,” he replied. “Rest up. We’ll catch up when you’re back to full strength.”

The days turned into weeks. With time, Y/N began to recover, though it was a gradual process. The bruising faded within a month, and while her broken arm and leg required more time—closer to 8-10 weeks for proper healing—she was at least mobile again, albeit cautiously. By then, she could sense the weight of her inactivity lifting, her focus shifting toward regaining her full independence.

----------

Y/N opened her phone and checked the group chat, where one of her friends had organized a dinner at a sleek, smart-casual bar for the upcoming Friday night. It sounded like the perfect opportunity to get out, and nearly everyone would be there, including Gaz.

She typed a quick reply, “That sounds perfect. I have something scheduled that day, but I’ll be able to catch up with all of you afterward. I’ll be looking presentable enough after my meeting with the gallery curator. It’s a nice bonus that the bar is smart-casual, so I won’t have to worry about changing. I’m almost back to normal now—my arm’s almost fully functional, and I can walk without wobbling.”

The chat quickly filled with confirmation messages. It was settled—the group would meet on Friday night. Some of her friends couldn’t make it as they were deployed or on duty, but a good portion would be there, and Gaz would be joining them as well.

The meeting with the curator was later that day, and it went better than she’d hoped. He loved her work and was eager to feature her pieces in an upcoming exhibit. The only thing left was to wait for the official paperwork to sign once the contract was finalized.

After the meeting wrapped up successfully, Y/N headed to the bar. It was sleek and modern, exactly the kind of place where she could unwind after a busy day. When she walked in, the warm glow of the bar greeted her, and she quickly spotted her friends gathered around a large table. They greeted her with cheers and hugs, their laughter blending easily with the soft buzz of the place.

The table was filled with canapés, finger foods, and cocktails, everyone sharing bites and chatting comfortably. It was mostly her close lady friends, with Gaz as the only guy in the group. Some of the others couldn’t make it due to duty or deployment, but it didn’t dampen the mood. Y/N smiled as she settled in, feeling a wave of contentment as she finally had a moment to relax and enjoy the evening

As the evening wore on, more drinks and food made their rounds, fueling laughter and stories that bounced from one person to the next. The atmosphere was light, filled with the easy camaraderie of good friends catching up. Y/N, feeling the effects of the drinks and the good time, excused herself to the restroom, tossing a playful request to one of her friends. "Watch my bag for me, yeah?"

She returned moments later, her steps quick as she anticipated diving back into the fun. But as she approached the table, her brow furrowed in confusion. The table where her friends had been sitting was now empty. All the glasses and platters of finger foods that had once littered the surface were completely cleared away. Her eyes scanned the bar, only to find that everyone had vanished—everyone, including Gaz.

"What the hell?" she muttered to herself, half-expecting to find some sort of mix-up. Had they really just gotten up and left without a word? Why would they do that? It felt... off. Her eyes darted around the room, but there was no sign of her friends. No lingering goodbyes, no explanations.

And then, she spotted him.

Sitting where she had been just moments ago, as if he'd always been part of the scene, was none other than John Price. He was dressed in smart casual—fitting the ambiance of the evening, but with that added flair of his usual commanding presence. Arms crossed over his chest, he looked at her with that infuriatingly smug, victorious grin that always managed to make her feel like she’d lost some sort of battle.

This must be why everyone disappeared. A setup. A setup by John and Gaz.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of her Chanel bag resting comfortably on his lap. The bag, the one she'd inherited, and more importantly, the one that contained her essentials—her phone, her wallet, her cards, tissues, and yes, even her meds—lay there in his hands, as if it was a trophy.

She blinked, then stepped closer, feeling her lips twitch into a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Are you kidding me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

Price didn’t even flinch. He just leaned back slightly, clearly amused at the scene unfolding before him, and tossed a cheeky glance toward her. "You took too long," he said smoothly, his voice low and teasing. "Figured I’d make myself comfortable while I waited."

His blue eyes scanned her, taking in every detail from head to toe before returning to her face. A playful grin tugged at his lips. "You look stunning," he said, his voice smooth. "Didn't know there was this side of you—besides the muddy aprons, overalls, and tactical uniforms. Not that you weren't beautiful then, but... there's something about you when you're all put together."

She stood before him, dressed in an off-shoulder navy blue midi dress that elegantly flowed to mid-calf. The neckline revealed her collarbone and her petite, delicate shoulders—features that had him fighting the urge to lean in closer. The sleeves of the dress were slightly puffed at the shoulders, tapering down to fitted cuffs at her wrists, adding just the right touch of drama to her polished look.

On her feet, a pair of navy blue velvet pumps completed the ensemble, elongating her legs and accentuating her graceful posture.

Her makeup was understated yet stunning, enhancing her natural beauty. Her well-groomed eyebrows framed her eyes perfectly, while a subtle smoky eyeshadow with neutral tones made her gaze captivating. A thin line of eyeliner defined her upper lash line, complemented by mascara-coated lashes that gave her eyes a soft, smoldering depth. A rosy blush brought warmth to her cheeks, while a bold satin mauve lipstick drew attention to her lips.

Her jewelry was minimal yet refined—a pair of gold hoop earrings added a hint of sophistication, while a delicate gold necklace with an intricate blue-eye gem pendant rested lightly against her collarbone, catching the light with every slight movement.

Her hair was styled in long, loose waves that cascaded down her shoulders and back. The soft, voluminous texture of her hair, parted in the middle, framed her face beautifully, striking the perfect balance between elegance and effortlessness.

John’s gaze lingered a moment longer, his appreciative smile deepening.

She exhaled an exasperated sigh, stepping forward with determination as she reached for her bag. Yet, his long arms moved swiftly, keeping it just out of her grasp. Her frustration mounted, but before she could protest further, his other hand slid around her waist in one fluid motion, pulling her close. Her breath hitched as his head came to rest lightly against her stomach, his blue eyes gleaming with playful defiance as he looked up at her.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, her pulse quickening at the sudden closeness. His hold was steady—not forceful, but firm enough to leave no doubt she wasn’t going anywhere. The smirk tugging at his lips was maddening, and the noise of the room seemed to fade, leaving only the charged space between them.

To anyone glancing their way, anyone who might have seen them at that moment would have easily assumed they were a couple.

"Give back my bag, Captain..." she murmured, her tone a mix of frustration and amusement.

His reply came without hesitation, the timbre of his voice dropping low enough to make her shiver. "No," he said, his grin widening. "How about we strike a deal instead? You owe me for ghosting me, and now..." He paused, letting his words linger between them. "You're going to make it up to me."

She let out an exasperated sigh, though the telltale flush creeping up her cheeks didn’t escape John’s sharp eyes.

“Could you let me go?” she asked, her voice betraying a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he shifted, turning his body fully toward her. Seated as he was, he wrapped his arm more firmly around her waist, trapping her against him. Her hips now pressed lightly against his chest, and he looked up at her with a gaze so intent it made her pulse falter.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with challenge.

She crossed her arms defiantly and turned her head away, refusing to meet his smoldering blue eyes. “What are you playing at?” she muttered.

His smirk deepened. “I’ll tell you what. Keep this up, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here.”

Her head snapped back toward him, eyes narrowing. “You’re a neanderthal!! Oh, You wouldn’t dare!!”

“Try me,” he said, his tone casual but laced with intent.

She stared at him, weighing her options. The sheer audacity of him left her fuming, but the steady determination in his expression left no room for doubt. He would absolutely do it.

For the sake of her dignity—and her reputation—she sighed in defeat. “Fine,” she muttered, her tone laced with reluctant surrender.

John’s victorious grin was infuriating, but she couldn’t deny the spark of heat that danced in her chest. Once again, Captain John Price had won.

John rose from his seat, and her eyes widened as she was suddenly reminded of just how tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing he was. Even in her heels, she barely came up to his chest. The sheer presence of him made her feel small in a way that was both frustrating and... a little disarming.

A slow smile spread across his face as he reached for her hand, his fingers naturally intertwining with hers. She noticed, with some irritation, that he was still holding her bag by the straps in his other hand—clearly not planning to return it anytime soon.

“Uhmm... wait,” she blurted, gesturing vaguely toward the bar. “I need to pay for everything.”

John’s smile widened, his voice calm and reassuring. “Don’t worry about it. Your friends took care of it. They send their compliments... and their best wishes for you to enjoy your time with me.”

Her lips parted in disbelief, and she let out an exasperated groan, her head tilting back slightly. “Ugh, of course they did,” she muttered, the realization sinking in that her friends had been part of this elaborate setup all along.

A/N: And now... the Captain has finally CAUGHT YOU! No more running, no more escaping—you're in his hands now. 😏 So, what happens next when you're completely at his mercy? Get ready for some intense and seductive moments to come... because John Price is about to seduce the hell out of you. Trust me, it’s only just beginning. 😉 Enjoy the ride, and don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Edit: Here is the next chapter------->

[constantlybrainrotting]

i lied, put your clothes back on. i'm going to keep talking about the dance studio au (side note, currently writing this as i am at the studio i teach at lmao)

on today's episode of brainrot, i tell you about the different specialties of the characters i chose to teach and why i chose them, as well as some random facts about them as teachers!

Silco Lane-Shimmerson (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Ballet/Pointe | Contemp

Silco mainly teaches ballet, pointe and contemp to both the full time comp kids and the part-time comp kids. I chose ballet/pointe for him because he is seen in canon as an overall precise and focused person, with little room for error, which are qualities usually seen within those styles. While he loves a good classic ballet routine, i think his specialties would lie within contemporary ballet, a style i see as more Zaun fitting. he would've learned the vaganova method growing up, a method known to use and value flexibility, strength and endurance, a method i believe that holds values that are pretty in line to Zaun in the show. due to his proficiency in contemporary ballet, i think it would bleed into him really enjoying contemporary/modern as a style. he would definitely be a harder and tougher teacher overall but the kids, especially the younger ones, love his upfront personality and makes him one of the more favoured teachers at the studio. He makes a lot of the kids enjoy ballet despite it being not well liked for many kids which is a FEAT. Silco is known for his intense choreography and it pays off since they are usually winning pieces (in contemp because anyone who judges a ballet dance judges so dumb no matter which way you go). He grew up with Vander at a small local studio and ended up joining and teaching at the Greater Piltover Ballet Company (GPBC) for a couple years before opening up a studio.

Vander Lane (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Lyrical | Acro | Open

Vander doesn't actually teach all that much in comparison to many of the teachers since he also runs a cafe part time that is attached to the studio but is an overall favourite among the full-time competitive dancers. I chose for him to teach lyrical, acro and open because acro and open can be very powerful movement wise, which we see in Vander in the riots on the bridge and makes a lot of sense in that front, i decided to however also have him teach lyrical to bring out his softer side, which we see in the show when interacting with the kids. He teaches lyrical and acro to all of them but teaches open to the senior and inter teams. he's the type of teacher that brings in goodie bags for each holiday season and will tell the most insane stories during class time at random of him, Silco and Benzo over the years (ex. "fun story about spotting, when I was in the Piltover Ballet with Silco we learned from this woman who used to throw chalkboard erasers at us if we didn't spot our turns lol" "WDYM CHALKBOARD ERASERS???" "anyways back to your turns-"). He creates the most visually moving pieces ever and you wouldn't expect such softness and fluidity from that large of a man but by god does he do it well. oh and his acro routines?? SO visually stunning. this man has an eye for creating the most stunning pieces in all of his routines and they are consistently getting special awards for artistry at competitions. He also joined the GPBC for a brief stint with Silco before going to open up a small cafe on which Zaun Dance Movement was built upon.

Sevika Vann (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Hip Hop | Acro | Open

Sevika is the one woman army of ZDM and Silco's right hand woman. She's the one picking out costumes (only Babette is aloud to help she does not trust those men), unpacking costumes, bedazzling, the whole works (dw she is compensated GOOD). I have her specialty as hip hop because she is a notably strong fighter and with the way she moves when fighting, she moves fluidly and sharp which are common notables in hip hop. She teaches the whole slew of comp kids hip hop and does tech classes with them. Her hip hop style is heavily mixed with Zaun break dance/street dance and allowed for the studio to become known for their unique style. She also teaches the part time kids acro since Vander is busy with the cafe and does some of the open small groups for the full comp kids. Her general stylization with her dances is heavy hitting and focuses on strength. She is a tough teacher but she does have her moments of roasting the shit out of her students to their delight. she loves a good banter and to be able to do that with her students will always be meaningful to her. She actually met Silco and Vander during a convention before they opened the studio, with her attending both their classes (Vander jazz and Silco contemp) and they took notice of her technique. Silco asked her to join the team the year they opened and with nothing else lined up for her at the time she agreed.

Babette Furlan (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Jazz | Musical Theatre

I couldn't resist not putting Babette in this au she would be a riot omg. Babette teaches jazz and musical theatre because this woman would THRIVE in it. she owns a brothel in the show okay she would just love the theatrics of the two styles and would definitely go towards a more fosse style of jazz. she's been around a hot minute so she's very well known in the dance world and has won many awards for her choreo so it was down to pure luck that Silco ran into his old dance teacher whose home studio was closing and she was looking for a new studio to teach at. she creates choreo made to entertain the masses so it's very theatrical, loud and with the funnest costumes ever. she's also pretty well liked in classes and teaches all levels and ages.

Smeech Citrano (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Tap

I LOVE ADDING THIS FUCKASS INTO RANDOM AU'S OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT!!! Smeech is the tap teacher because no.1 the way h moves in fights is great for tap and no.2 he has cybernetics in the show and metal meets metal shoes yknow!! this man is my favourite to figure out because he has beef with SO MANY of the kids, even the ones he has do solos/duos/trios and the only reason hes still employed is because hes the only good tap teacher in Zaun. the kids hate him but his routines place good so its a win-loose situation for them all honestly. his style of tap is steampunk ambience music with complex and/or fast steps with weird timings.

Cassandra Kiramman (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Jazz | Lyrical | Open

i have Cassandra teaching jazz, lyrical and open for a few different reasons. the jazz style appeals to her more intense side that we see when she busts in cait's room with a gun. she tends to lean towards the jazz-funk style more and her choreo is upbeat and fast moving. her lyrical becomes the opposite of that in fact and tunes into her softer side that we see when she talks to Caitlyn or Tobias. she uses traditional lyrical with it's softer and flowy lines of the body creating almost constant movement that draws in the audience. her style of open brings the two together which i think is important for her character. there tends to be sharper movements within but still allows for the flowiness to come through. her teaching methods can get intense at times but overall shes a good teacher and she's the kind to always have you do it full out with the music. she took over the studio after Heimerdinger's decision to step down and retire (for the most part lol) and has improved certain areas of the company since. before she had taken over, she was both a student and a teacher and had graduated from the GPBC's teaching program for lyrical and jazz. she's pretty hands on with her studio so she teaches both full time and part time competitive teams in her 3 preferred styles and is at the studio almost always. When she took over the studio, that's when a initial reach out to ZDM was made... she got one half in good faith at least!

Grayson Menea (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Hip Hop | Contemp | Acro

i couldn't NOT include miss Grayson so i have her in some of the more intense styles like hip hop, contemp and acro! she's got an overall pretty intense job in the show and i wanted to really bring that forward with the hip hop and acro, but show her somewhat softer side through with the contemp. her hip hop choreo is really sharp movements and lots of isolations, and her acro can be similar, with the placed movements and intensity. her contemp choreo is a lot more softer with the movements but still brings in that intensity through intentional and well placed moments of movement. she had actually grown up dancing at a smaller studio on the outskirts of New Piltover and close to Zaun so she learned hip hop very similarly to the Zaunite style of hip hop. she ended up doing a brief stint in the military and after a shot taken to her shoulder she was discharged. she decided not to return and was offered a job by then owner Heimerdinger to teach hip hop, since she was recommended by a mutual friend. she agreed and has thrived ever since. shes an overall pretty tough teacher when teaching but outside of that shes a wonderful person to be around and gives advice to the kids she teaches. she takes on more of the full time kids but does do some teaching with the older part-time kids.

Amara Saffioti (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Ballet/Pointe

Amara just looked like an older ballet teacher idk what you guys want from me, i went off pure vibes from her tbh. in any case, she is a true believer of classical ballet, plateau tutu's and all and is a no-nonsense but kind teacher. she uses the English (RAD - Royal Academy of Dance) method when teaching and she teaches the full scale of comp kids. she has a tendency to use music from different ballets and doesn't really branch out in that regard but her choreography is gorgeous. she also single-handedly puts on the nutcracker with her students every year and when Cassandra tries to help she shoos her out of the classroom. she was the first employee of the studio and she claims she will stay until she dies because she genuinely enjoys teaching so much.

Shoola Junot (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Tap | Musical Theatre

Shoola was also a very vibes based choice but i did think that a good musical theatre would help her be less cold in a way. for Shoola's tap style, it is a lot of quick tapping and lots of movement around the stage. she also has a habit of picking the shiniest of costumes for the kids which they love! i had a harder time finding a musical theatre style i liked for her but a classic simple musical theatre is where she is happy. her choreo still has those fast movements that she loves, just not as shiny costume wise and she loves to pick from older musicals. shes pretty well liked among staff and students but can seem quite cold due to her quiet demeanour outside the studio. she was originally a student at the studio and after graduating was asked to teach while she attended college to get her degree in engineering. she has another job outside the studio in a mechanical engineer position. she has also single-handedly upgraded the tap technique at the studio which is insane behaviour tbh.

Bonus! Cecil Heimerdinger (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Musical Theatre

thought fuck it, might as well add in the yordle! so Heimerdinger was actually a musical theatre geek and loved kooky theatre music so much he opened a studio mainly for that. he quickly learned he needed more variations of dance styles so in came Amara! tbh he had no clue wtf he was doing but they got an increasing number of wins with their routines so he said fuck it we ball ig. when he decided to give up the studio, he asked Cassandra and thankfully she said yes! while yes he was retired, he knew he needed SOMETHING to do so he took over managing the front desk (his multiple degrees came in handy) and does guest choreo work for Cassandra in his favourite style... musical theatre!

[askchilchuck]

Rip Chilchuck Tims, you would of loved the Beatles

We have beetles here too, you know. Also, quit telling people I’m dead.

[kagoutiss]

junimo sight

[fisheito]

rereading the nuca pink doujin and seeing yakumo tear himself apart re: his snake form vs his human form all this agony and self-doubt and silent suffering and fear of rejection like "if i looked less human would u hate me" , "if u saw me in my true form wouldn't that be horrible. terrifying. disgusting" , "if i admitted i want to swallow you whole would you think worse of me"

and i imagine him asking something like this to the crowd of clan members , who are , undeniably,, a group of Kinky Fuckers

they all smile with the serenity and carefully masked excitement of a horny olivine. masterful beautiful reassuring expressions (errr..... masked to different degrees depending on the clan member)

[kaeyachi]

Kaeya had always been an efficient and hard-working individual (he had to be to support Diluc in the background as his brother rose thru the ranks after all).

He has so much free time because he completes all his work way ahead of schedule. And if he still has enough time, he adds more to the workload in secret.

And once all of that was done and over with, he makes time for everyone. He has to. He feels as if every moment has to be given to someone else.

No one knows how he does it. No one has to know.

Every mission has a dozen strategies in line, and every battle plan is made with efficiency in mind. His perfect record will not be tarnished. He can't risk it (even if it baffles others that he would willingly activate a ruin guard just to prevent a failed mission. Jean disagrees with his methods, but Kaeya can say that the results say otherwise)

He needs to be quick.

Efficient.

Perfect.

And so he comes and goes like the wind.

Kaeya values time because he knew every second counted. He can't just stand there as if he were frozen. Time could run out in an instant.

Kaeya had only been late once his entire life.

He'd rather he never be late ever again.

It took one day of being of being imperfect for everything to fall apart. On that tragic day...had he gotten there on time... then maybe...

.

.

.

" Come on, let's get moving, traveler. We're not frozen in place after all. " Kaeya teasingly says. He stiffles a giggle at the traveler's exhasperated sigh.

"Yeah yeah, we've heard enough of you calling us a slacker. Can't you be a bit more patient?" Paimon whines at him.

Kaeya snorts, but acquiesces, hiding the shaking of his hands at the thought of being idle.

He imagines hearing a clock ticking.

Kaeya knows that that is his own problem. He tries his hardest to relax as he waits for the traveler to finish whatever they're making on the alchemy table because, seriously, it is supposed to be a relaxing day. There's nothing major going on, and his schedule is once again empty as intended. What's the hurry?

Kaeya taps his foot on the ground as he waits. He wishes he could take his own damn advice when he tells others to relax.

[chloecherrysip]

"I hope you told your brother how much you loved him, because you're probably never gonna see him again."

"..."

"Was that too dark?"

"YES!"

"Sorry."

[solradguy]

I do think Sol has every right to throw Asuka into a wall as few times but I also ask for your proposed reason for why Sol would be making a big ass rocket to vist him. /gen

Oh, you know...

I genuinely don't know what else Sol could possibly be planning to do other than finish what he vowed to do at the end of Begin and at least once in almost every game release before and since haha

[street-corner-felines]

Zero Day (2002)

[icantalk710]

Happy to report that spin🚲 class [and the subsequent leg day 🦵🏽😤] did in fact break several sweats (ft mooooon)

[ichthyorelationships]

an idea i invite anyone else to write about / run with lol....

the premise that The Change gets all messed up for alberto, say it's something that can happen from stress, &/or happens rarely and you just have to wait for it to resolve itself....used as some parallel to struggling through some emotional turbulence / upheaval / questioning / Realizing Things, etc etc

[pallases]

IM FREEEEEE