#Comp IIIs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lazy-ahh · 3 months ago

Text

YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE GOES GOOD WITH GAMING?

pairing mark grayson x male reader

you’ve waited weeks for him to return from his mission, and now he’s here, warm and insistent against you, while your ranked match blares ignored on the screen. the worst part? you don't mind losing. despite the weeks of hard work. you want his lips on yours, his weight pressing you into the chair, the way he murmurs "i missed you" between kisses like it’s a confession. but you’ve clawed your way to this rank-up game, and you never quit—even when mark’s tongue is lapping up the precome leaking from your tip and your fingers are trembling on the keyboard.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro , @cynvia

mark’s been gone for weeks—some off-world mission, because apparently, the universe can’t handle itself without him. not that you’d admit it, but you missed him. more than you should. more than you’d ever let him know. you caught yourself staring at your window too often, half-expecting to see his silhouette against the glass, that infuriatingly patient tap-tap-tap before you’d let him in. as if he didn’t know you left the damn thing unlocked for him every night. typical.

everything reminded you of him, which was unacceptable. so you buried yourself in distractions—school, homework, then straight to your pc, booting up marvel rivals before you could even think about how quiet the room felt without him. the game had been his idea, of course. he’d all but shoved it at you, that stupid, eager grin on his face as he said, "just try it. if you hate it, i’ll never bring it up again. but you won’t." as if he hadn’t already known you’d love it.

at first, he was the one explaining everything—mechanics, lore, all that useless trivia he’d absorbed like some kind of nerd-shaped sponge. "see, magik’s portals work like this—" or "no, don’t engage yet, strange’s cooldown is—" annoying. endearing. you’d never admit either out loud. but then you got better. faster. soon, you were the one calling shots, dragging his sorry ass through ranked matches while he laughed in your ear, loud and unguarded, every time you pulled off some insane play. "holy shit—did you just parry that ult?! that’s illegal. you’re actually cracked. YOU JUST SAVED MY LIFE OH BABY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU-"

he never complained, even when you outclassed him. just watched you with that quiet, proud look, like he’d somehow won just by getting you to play. sometimes, when you were both too tired for another match but not tired enough to log off, he’d let his character idle beside yours in the lobby, humming some off-key tune while you fiddled with skins. "you’re keeping me up," you’d grumble. "then kick me out," he’d shoot back, knowing full well you wouldn’t.

now, with him gone, solo queue was a nightmare. you tried comms, but it was a coin toss—either decent teammates or the kind of toxic dps mains who threw matches the second things went south. you added a few tolerable players, grinding comp at set times, but most of your matches were still solo. and you’d climbed. platinum, after weeks of stubborn, teeth-gritted effort. you could already picture mark’s reaction—that mix of irritation (probably pretend) and admiration he got whenever you outdid him. not that you’d gloat. much.

the real problem would be playing together once you hit diamond. he was still stuck in gold, and you refused to smurf. so for now, you were stuck in elo hell—platinum I to diamond III, then back down again, in a cycle that felt like the universe mocking you. but you’d figure it out. you always did. and when he got back, you’d make sure he knew exactly how much ground he had to cover to keep up.

you were half-heartedly proofreading your essay, the queue timer ticking away in the corner of your screen, when your hand moved before your brain could stop it—grabbing your phone, unlocking it, immediately swiping to mark’s messages like muscle memory. it was a bad habit at this point. every idle moment, every second of downtime, your fingers betrayed you, pulling up his chat like some pathetic reflex. and there they were, still staring back at you: his last messages from weeks ago, before comms cut out and space swallowed him whole.

your thumb hovered over the screen, tracing the timestamp like you could will it to change. then—there. that stupid, stupid one-liner he’d sent right before losing signal: ‘try not to miss me too much!’ as if he hadn’t known exactly what he was doing. as if you weren’t already doing exactly that.

a quiet, involuntary laugh escaped you, sharp and fond all at once. "idiot," you muttered, but the word came out too soft, too warm, and you hated how easily he could drag that out of you. like you were some sappy romance protagonist instead of yourself. you tossed your phone back onto the desk, maybe a little harder than necessary, and forced your eyes back to your essay.

it didn’t work. the words blurred together, your focus already frayed, and you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. stupid. stupid markus sebastian grayson, turning you into this—some lovesick fool who couldn’t even function right without him around. worst of all? you knew he’d be grinning if he saw you like this. that smug, infuriating look he got when he realized he’d gotten under your skin.

you gritted your teeth and stabbed at your keyboard, queue be damned. you had an essay to finish. and not think about him.

and then—as if the universe itself was mocking you—tap-tap-tap.

your head snapped up so fast your neck protested. for a second, you wondered if you’d finally lost it, conjuring him up out of sheer, pathetic longing. but no. there he was, floating outside your window like some overgrown, dirt-streaked moth, his stupid grin brighter than the goddamn moon behind him.

mark looked wrecked—hair a mess, suit scuffed, one of his lenses cracked—but his smile was the same as always: crooked, too-wide, the kind that crinkled his eyes and made his stupid dimples pop. like he’d been waiting for this moment, like seeing you was the best part of his damn day.

and then—because you were a fool—you scrambled for the window like some desperate rom-com lead, fumbling with the latch like you hadn’t left it unlocked for him on purpose. your face burned. disgraceful.

mark’s expression flickered—confusion, then worry, his smile dropping as he darted forward. "baby? is everything alright?"

before you could even attempt to salvage your dignity, he was inside, his hands cradling your face like you were something fragile. his palms were rough, still warm from flight, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he searched for injuries. "you okay? you look—" he paused, studying your flushed face, the way you were very pointedly not meeting his eyes. then, slowly, his lips twitched. "…oh."

oh. like he’d just figured you out. like he knew.

you wanted to die. "shut up," you muttered, but it lacked any real bite—not when your traitorous heart was pounding loud enough for both of you to hear.

mark’s grin softened, something unbearably fond in his eyes as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "missed me that much, huh?"

"no," you lied, immediately.

he laughed, quiet and warm, and you hated how it made your chest ache. "liar."

and then—because he was the absolute worst—he kissed your stupid, burning cheeks, one after the other, lingering just to feel the way you tensed under his touch. "it’s okay," he murmured, lips brushing your skin like he was savoring every second of your embarrassment. "i missed you too."

you were never living this down.

just as you opened your mouth to snap something—anything—to wipe that smug look off his face, your pc chimed. the two of you turned in unison, and there it was, flashing bright and mocking on your screen: match found.

"shit," you hissed, scrambling back toward your desk. "i forgot to fucking cancel queue—"

mark barked out a laugh, loud and delighted. "no way. you’ve been grinding rivals this whole time?" he was already following you, leaning over your shoulder with that infuriating grin. "aw, baby. did you miss me or the game more?"

you elbowed him hard enough to make him oof, but he didn’t budge, just hooked his chin over your shoulder as you frantically clicked to lock in your character. "shut up. i was bored."

"uh-huh," he drawled, eyes scanning the screen. then—"holy shit." his fingers dug into your shoulders. "you’re one game from diamond?!"

you could feel the grin in his voice before you even saw it—that stupid, contagious excitement thrumming through him like a live wire. it was unbearable. worse, it was working, that familiar warmth pooling in your chest despite your best efforts to stomp it out. pathetic. since when did you let him sway you so easily?

"took you long enough to notice," you muttered, aiming for derision but landing somewhere dangerously close to fond. your chest tightened traitorously when he let out that low, impressed whistle—the same one he used when you pulled off something reckless in the field. like you’d impressed him.

"damn. guess i’ve gotta step up my game." his lips brushed your temple, lingering just long enough to make your fingers twitch on the keyboard. you jerked your shoulder up to shove him off, but he just laughed, the vibration of it rattling through your ribs. "carry me when i’m back in gold, yeah?"

"in your fucking dreams," you snarled, but the bite dissolved the second his laugh vibrated through your shoulder—warm and familiar and alive, filling up the hollow spaces his absence had carved into your room for weeks. your traitorous heartbeat steadied against your ribs, and you didn’t shove him off when his chin dug into your shoulder. pathetic.

you’d never admit it out loud—would rather chew glass than acknowledge how much you’d missed this—but his presence at your back, solid and warm and breathing, made your fingers stutter over the character select screen.

then mark, the insufferable bastard, decided words weren’t enough.

his lips found the hinge of your jaw first—soft, teasing—then the corner of your mouth when you tilted your head automatically. "distracting me on purpose?" you muttered, but the protest cracked when his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

"is it working?" he murmured against your mouth, all smugness, and you hated how easily your body betrayed you, leaning towards him with a scoff that turned into a sharp inhale when his tongue swept over yours.

his hands cradled your face like you were something precious, thumbs brushing your cheekbones as he kissed you slow and deep, the way he knew unraveled you. your fingers curled around his wrist—anchoring, needing—while your other hand slid up to cup his jaw.

when you finally pulled back to breathe (because unlike him, you were human, damn it), mark didn’t go far. his forehead stayed pressed to yours, lips swollen and curved into that stupid, satisfied smile, his breaths just as uneven as yours. his eyes were half-lidded, dark with something unbearably fond as they traced your face—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers still clung to him like you’d die if he let go.

"missed you," he whispered, like it was a secret.

you swallowed the i missed you more threatening to spill out. "shut up. i’m trying to rank up." you shoved at his chest, but your fingers curled into his suit instead of pushing him away—another pathetic betrayal your body refused to stop committing.

mark’s grin turned wicked, eyes flashing with that infuriating knowing look as he chased your lips before you could even think to turn back to the screen. his hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he kissed you again, deeper this time, hungrier. his tongue swept against yours, slow and teasing, then insistent when you made a noise embarrassingly close to a whimper.

you could feel his smirk against your mouth, the way his free hand gripped your thigh to pull you closer, his body pressing yours back into the chair until you were arching up into him without thought. his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging just enough to make your stomach flip, and when you gasped, he took advantage, licking into your mouth like he was trying to memorize the taste of you.

your hands were everywhere—one fisted in his hair, the other clutching at his shoulder, nails digging in when he nipped at your tongue. his breath hitched, and the sound went straight to your already-fogged head. you could feel his heartbeat where your thumb brushed his pulse point, wild and alive, and it made something possessive curl in your chest.

then—

the sudden blare of the match-starting music ripped through the haze.

you jerked back, breath ragged, lips swollen and wet, just in time to see your character standing idle on-screen, the round start timer already counting down.

"fuck," you hissed through gritted teeth, fingers scrambling across the keyboard with desperate precision. mark blinked, dumbfounded as he processed your sudden panic before chuckling, that infuriatingly warm puff of air hitting your pulse point. "seriously?" his arms tightened around your shoulders in protest, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck like some overgrown cat refusing to move from its favorite spot.

"you're really playing right now?" he murmured, lips forming the words against your skin in a way that made your fingers stutter on the WASD keys. the amusement in his voice was unbearable, especially when you could feel his smirk pressed into your shoulder.

"one game away from diamond," you muttered, the words coming out flatter than you intended. the forced casualness did nothing to mask the frustrated and disappointed edge underneath. "if i leave now, i lose twenty fucking points."

mark sighed dramatically, the full weight of his disappointment radiating through his entire body before he finally—reluctantly—peeled himself away. the sudden absence of his warmth against your back felt criminal, and it took every ounce of your pitiful self-control not to spin your chair around and drag him back by his sinfully narrow waist. "fine, fine," he conceded, stretching with exaggerated resignation. "I'll go shower. but you owe me," he added, pausing just long enough to press one last kiss to the top of your head—chaste but loaded with promise—before sauntering toward the bathroom with that infuriatingly perfect sway to his hips.

you waited until the bathroom door clicked shut before allowing yourself one single, shaky exhale, your fingers finally steadying on the mouse as you looked at your character. the screen blurred for just a second before you violently blinked it back into focus. damn this stupid game. damn mark for being so distracting. and damn you most of all for caring about either.

the match loads in with that familiar chime, and suddenly the world narrows to the glow of your monitor—every neuron firing, every muscle coiled tight with precision. your fingers dance across the keyboard in practiced patterns, movements sharp and lethal despite the phantom heat still burning where mark's lips had been moments ago. focus. you need to focus.

the numbers don't lie—48% ult charge, one teammate already flaming in chat, the enemy hawkeye picking your supports like fucking target practice. your teeth grind together hard enough to hurt. stupid. you never should've filled as support. if you'd locked in iron fist from the start, this match would've been over already.

when the third round starts with another pathetic stagger, you snap. "swap with me," you speak into voice chat, voice steady and determined, already selecting iron fist before the whiny psylocke main can protest. the second the lock-in confirmation pings, your shoulders drop half an inch—better. this you can work with. this you can carry.

your crosshair finds the enemy healer's skull just as—

warm fingers skate up your inner thigh, slow and deliberate. mark's palm presses flush against your leg, his thumb tracing idle circles through the fabric of your sweats.

your entire body jerks so hard your knee slams into the desk—mark's suddenly between your legs like some fucking phantom, all sharp teeth and wicked gleam in his eyes as he looks up at you. "what the fuck," you snarl, but he just presses a single finger to his lips, the bastard, like this is some goddamn library and not your room.

"don't let me distract you," he murmurs, voice dripping with false innocence—and then his clever fingers are sliding your sweats down with agonizing slowness. you should shove him off. you should. but your hands stay frozen over the keyboard even as your pulse jackrabbits in your throat.

then his mouth—fuck—his mouth is on you, and the world narrows to the wet heat of his tongue dragging up your cock in one long, filthy lick, from base to tip, slow enough to make your thighs tremble. he lingers at the head, swirling the flat of his tongue over the slit just to hear the choked noise it punches from your throat. bastard.

he does it again—slower this time, savoring the way your hips jerk up, your fingers flexing like you can’t decide whether to shove him off or pull him closer. but mark just hums, amused, and pins you down with one broad hand splayed across your stomach, his grip firm enough to keep you in place but gentle enough that you could break free if you really wanted to. (you don’t.)

then he sinks down, taking you into his mouth inch by inch, his lips stretched tight around you, his tongue pressing up against the underside in a way that makes your vision blur. he pulls off just as slow, dragging his teeth just shy of too much, before diving back down like he’s got all the time in the world. like he wants to ruin you.

and the worst part? he’s watching you the whole time—eyes dark, lashes low, his gaze locked onto your face like he’s memorizing every twitch of your expression, every bitten-off curse. like your pleasure is the only thing that matters.

it’s unbearable.

your character dodges a stun on pure muscle memory because christ—the way mark hollows his cheeks, lips stretched obscenely around you, the wet slick sounds filling the room every time he pulls up just to plunge back down. his eyelashes flutter against flushed skin when your thighs instinctively squeeze around his head, and your mouse creaks under your death grip, sweat rolling down your temples as you choke back a moan that's been building in your throat for minutes.

"m-mark—" you hiss through clenched teeth, but he just hums around you, the vibration shooting straight to your spine. your foot kicks out involuntarily, knocking against a wall as he picks up the pace, lips red and slick with spit, watching you unravel above him. the match is chaos—your team screams comms in voice chat, frantic calls to focus the enemy tank, but all you hear is the filthy slide of his mouth and your own ragged breathing.

you're so fucked.

mark's tongue drags along the underside of your cock with practiced precision, swirling around the head before sinking down until your hips twitch against the chair. his throat works around you, warm and tight, and you barely register the kill feed flashing on-screen as your healer dies, leaving you alone on point with the overtime bar bleeding out. for one delirious second, you think there goes my rank-up game—but your hands move anyway, your body reacting on pure instinct as you somehow, somehow clutch the round.

"p-please—" the word tears out of you like a surrender, raw and desperate in a way that would’ve had you recoiling if your brain wasn’t reduced to static. your fingers twist in mark’s hair—pulling? pushing?—as your hips stutter helplessly. "mark, please, go—ah—go easy—" it’s pathetic, how your voice cracks on the last syllable, how your thighs tremble under his palms like you’re some inexperienced kid instead of—

mark listens, but not the way you wanted. he pulls off with a filthy, wet pop, your cock twitching against your stomach, flushed and glistening under the low light. the bastard has the audacity to grin, lips slick and swollen, breath coming in quick puffs against your overheated skin. "that good, huh?" he rasps, dragging his tongue along your length in one torturously slow stripe, savoring the way your abs clench violently.

you barely have time to gasp before he’s mouthing at the head, pressing wet, open kisses along the vein underneath—teasing, always teasing—his breath scorching where you’re oversensitive and throbbing. then—just as the enemy team respawns, just as your team’s frantic pings flood the screen—he swallows you back down in one smooth slide, deep, until his nose brushes your stomach and he stays, throat working around you in slow, deliberate pulses.

your hips jerk instinctively, chasing friction, but mark just digs his fingers into your thighs, pinning you to the chair with infuriating ease. the contrast is maddening—the game’s frantic audio in your headphones, your team’s character voice lines of getting hurt, the enemy pushing point—while mark’s mouth is nothing but molten stillness, his tongue pressing just there every time you twitch. sweat drips down your temple. your knuckles whiten on the mouse. you can’t tell if the choked noise that escapes you is from the hawkeye headshot that just wiped your backline or the way mark breathes through his nose, content to let you unravel in his grip.

his eyes flick up to yours through his lashes—dark, amused, the bastard—lips stretched obscenely around you as he watches your screen with detached interest. like this is just another game to him. like he knows you’re two seconds from either throwing the match or throwing your dignity out the window to fuck into his throat.

somehow—through the haze of sweat and mark’s fucking teeth grazing you on an upstroke, through the way your thighs tremble around his shoulders—you clutch. iron fist’s ult meter hits 100% with a deafening chime. your muscles coil, every fiber taut with tension, and mark’s grip tightens on your hips in warning, nails biting into skin. but you launch yourself into the backline anyway, the kill feed exploding in a burst of color. triple. quad. your team’s hysterical screaming in voice chat drowns out the wet, obscene sound of mark finally moving, sucking you down to the root just as "victory" flashes across the screen in blinding gold.

your team continues to scream—cheering, cracking jokes, their earlier hostility forgotten in the adrenaline rush. you would've thought this was a beautiful moment if you weren't currently being sucked off by your boyfriend. you mutter a breathless "gg" into the mic, lips twitching at the chorus of "holy shit, w fucking iron fist!" before you’re cutting them off with a sharp click of your mouse. the headset hits the desk with a clatter.

you don’t even get to savor the win. mark’s hands are on your hips now, dragging you to the edge of the chair with a roughness that makes your stomach flip. his nose presses into your stomach, lips sealed tight as he swallows around you with a filthy, shuddering groan—like he’s been waiting this whole fucking match to ruin you properly. your back arches off the chair, fingers tangling in his hair hard enough to hurt, but he just moans around you, eyes fluttering shut like this is exactly where he wants to be. like he’d happily die here, between your thighs.

"f-fuck—mark—" you whimper, but it’s too late. he’s not stopping this time.

his tongue drags along the underside of your cock in a slow, filthy stripe before he takes you deep again, one hand sliding up your chest to thumb at your nipple through your shirt. the dual sensation punches a ragged noise from your throat, your hips jerking involuntarily. mark hums in approval, the vibration rippling through you like a live wire. his free hand slips under your thigh, hiking your leg over his shoulder to press you even closer, until you can feel every hitched breath he takes through your skin.

he pulls off just to mouth at the head, tongue circling the slit with agonizing precision, and you whine, high and desperate. his eyes flick up to yours, dark with something unbearably fond even as his lips glisten with spit. "love you like this," he murmurs against your skin, voice wrecked. "all mine. fucking perfect. i missed you so much baby, you don't even know the half of it—"

then he’s sinking down again, taking you until his throat flutters around the tip, and you’re gone—fingers tightening in his hair as you spill down his throat with a broken cry. mark swallows every drop, lips staying locked around you until you’re twitching from oversensitivity, until your grip on his hair loosens to cradle his face instead.

when he finally pulls away, his lips are swollen, his cheeks flushed. he rests his forehead against your thigh, breathing hard, and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh—soft, reverent. like you’re something sacred.

"welcome home," you mutter, voice hoarse.

mark's grin is worth every goddamn second of the wait—all bright-eyed and breathless, his lips kiss-swollen from where you'd bitten them. you're still coming down from your high, chest heaving, fingers trembling against the keyboard where you'd gripped it too tight. you should shove him off. you would shove him off. any second now.

"baby," mark murmurs, and fuck, the way your stupid traitorous heart lurches at that tone—all soft and reverent, like you're something precious instead of a mess of sweat and frustration and arousal. his fingers trail down your stomach, feather-light, and you hate how your body arches into the touch before your brain catches up.

"don't—" you start, but it comes out hoarse, ruined. mark just smiles, that dorky, infuriating smile that makes your chest ache, and presses a kiss to your shoulder while his other hand navigates your mouse with infuriating ease.

"c'mon, diamond boy," he teases, clicking queue with one hand while the other slips lower, fingers tracing your rim in slow, maddening circles. "wouldn't want you to lose your hard-earned rank, would we?"

you choke on air when his fingers slide past your lips—calloused and tasting faintly of salt—pressing down on your tongue with deliberate pressure. "suck," mark murmurs, and your traitorous mouth obeys before your pride can protest, hollowing your cheeks as you work his fingers wet. his breath hitches when your teeth graze his knuckles, his other hand fisting his own cock through his pants at the sight of you—lips stretched, lashes fluttering, teary-eyed, that fucked-out daze already clouding your expression just from this.

then those slick fingers are dragging down your stomach, pushing past your thighs, and—"fuck—" your hips jerk when one curls inside you, crooking just right. "you're insufferable," you spit, but it loses all bite when your hands scramble uselessly between the desk and his wrist, torn between shoving him away and grinding down onto his hand.

mark laughs against your pulse point, the vibration rattling through your ribs as he adds a second finger with that same unbearable patience, stretching you slow. "keep playing," he breathes into your ear, twisting his wrist to drag a broken noise from your throat. "i wanna see you try to focus when i'm fucking you full of my cock."

the match loads in with that obnoxiously bright chime, but the sound barely registers—not when mark’s fingers crook just right, scissoring deep and dragging a broken moan from your throat. your vision whites out for a second, hips jerking uselessly against his hand as he adds a third finger, stretching you with that infuriating, practiced ease.

"fuck, you’re tight," mark murmurs against the shell of your ear, his free hand sliding up to palm your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple. "when was the last time you touched yourself, baby?"

you choke on a gasp when his fingers press deeper, hitting that spot that makes your thighs tremble. "few—fuck—few weeks ago," you manage, voice ragged. "didn’t— didn’t do shit. couldn’t—"

his teeth graze your earlobe, sharp and teasing. "couldn’t what?"

you hate how breathless you sound. "couldn’t reach deep enough. wasn’t—hnng—wasn’t you."

mark groans, low and filthy, his fingers stilling inside you just to feel how you clench around them. "christ, you’re gonna kill me," he mutters, but he’s grinning when he nips at your jaw. "lucky for you, i’m real good at reaching where you need me, huh?"

you scoff, the immersion breaking for a second as you look at him unimpressed, "did you really just say that—ahh—" and then he curls his fingers just so, and you’re pretty sure the entire universe short-circuits.

mark withdraws his fingers with a slick sound, and the emptiness is agony. your head drops forward, teary eyes staring down at yourself—flushed, trembling, needy—and you hate how pathetic you look. how wrecked he’s made you already. his cock twitches in his pants at the sight, and the groan he lets out is filthy. "look at you," he murmurs, voice rough. "all desperate for me."

before you can snap something defensive, his hands are on your hips, hauling you up with that stupid superhuman strength of his. you stumble, legs shaky, but he steadies you effortlessly—then drops into your chair, pulling you down onto his lap in one smooth motion. the heat of him sears through his clothes, and you feel him, hard and eager beneath his boxers, the fabric damp where he’s been leaking for you.

"there," mark murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as his hands slide up your thighs, pushing your legs apart wider. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he adds, "better view, yeah?" his fingers make quick work of his own pants, shoving them down just enough to free his cock—already hard and leaking against your back. "still gotta pick, baby," he teases, nipping at your earlobe when you hesitate on the character select screen. "unless you wanna dodge? though, i don't think you can dodge in this game."

you scoff, locking in iron fist with more force than necessary. "shut up."

the game loads in a blur of colors and sound, but all you can focus on is mark's teeth sinking into your shoulder as you guide your character toward the point. his hands roam your chest, pinching and teasing until you're squirming in your seat. "f-focus on the fucking game," you mutter, even as your hips push back against him.

mark just laughs, low and dark, before licking a stripe up your neck. "giving yourself pep-talk? how cute."

"i swear to god, markus sebastian grayson, if you say one more cheesy thing i will throw you out of my room."

when the enemy team finally pushes in, bullets and abilities flying across your screen, mark chooses that exact moment to shove two fingers past your lips. "suck," he orders, and you do—tongue swirling around his digits, moaning when he curls them just right. he pulls them out slick with your spit, trailing them down your stomach before reaching between your legs.

"f-fuck—" you choke out as his spit-slick fingers circle your rim, teasing before one pushes in to the second knuckle. your back arches off the chair, thighs spreading wider despite the game still raging onscreen. "mark—!"

"that’s it," he growls, his free hand groping your chest as he works you open again—first one finger, then two, scissoring slow until you’re panting, your neglected cock dripping onto your stomach. his own erection grinds against your lower back, leaking precome onto your skin. "still gonna carry, or am i too distracting?" he taunts, curling his fingers just so until you see white.

you barely register the starlord that flanks your team from behind you, killing your punisher as mark withdraws his fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing. "look at you," he murmurs, lining up his cock—thick and flushed and yours—against your hole. "already fucking yourself back on my fingers like you’re starving for it." he pushes in slow, just the tip at first, and the stretch burns so good your toes curl. "shit—" he groans, hips stuttering when you clench around him. "still so tight, even after i loosened you up. fucking perfect."

he pulls out until just the head remains, those shallow, teasing thrusts making your nails scrape against the keyboard. "more—" you demand, voice cracking, but mark just laughs—bright and smug—keeping the pace agonizingly slow.

"beg prettier," he murmurs against your ear, and you’re going to fucking murder him later.

the thought evaporates when your character dies on screen, a sharp "fuck!" tearing from your throat as your head thuds back against his shoulder. mark’s chuckle vibrates through your spine. "distracted, baby?"

"shut the fuck up," you groan, but your hips twitch back against him instinctively, seeking friction. his hands tighten around your waist, holding you still.

"uh-uh. you wanted to play." his teeth graze your earlobe. "so play."

then your character respawns, and you barely have time to register the 30 SECONDS OF OVERTIME warning before mark slams up into you in one brutal thrust, filling you completely. your back arches as you come with a choked gasp, vision whiting out around the edges—

"that’s it, sweetheart," mark praises, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to bruise before soothing it with his tongue. his arms cage you against the desk, his cock twitching inside you as he murmurs nonsense into your skin: "so good for me, taking me so well—fuck, look at you."

you’re trembling, oversensitive, but the game’s still going. with a shaky breath, you force your hands back onto the keyboard, your movements sluggish as you try to focus past the haze. mark hums approvingly, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch the screen, his cock still buried deep. every slight shift of his hips—every lazy pulse inside you—has your fingers stuttering on the keys.

"c'mon, baby," mark murmurs against your jaw, his breath warm as his fingers trail higher up your thigh. "carry us." his other hand slips around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest—solid and familiar and home after weeks of empty space and staticky comms. "missed watching you play," he admits quietly, lips brushing your earlobe. "missed watching you win."

you're going to strangle him. after you win.

his nose nuzzles into the space behind your ear, inhaling deeply like he's memorizing your scent. "god, missed you," he continues, voice going rough around the edges. "mission was hell without your voice in my ear. kept thinking about how you'd chew me out for taking stupid risks." a soft laugh vibrates through his chest and into yours. "missed that too."

your fingers hesitate on the keyboard for half a second before you tilt your head just enough to press a grudging kiss to his jaw—the closest part of him you can reach without twisting your entire body. "i missed you too, beloved," you mutter, the endearment slipping out despite yourself. "but right now, i'm trying to focus."

mark makes a wounded noise at the nickname, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "say that again," he demands against your throat, lips dragging wet and insistent over your pulse. "c’mon, sweetheart, just once more—" his hips shift minutely, and fuck, you feel it—the way his cock twitches inside you, already so hard it makes your breath stutter. your grip on the mouse tightens reflexively, knuckles going white around it as you try to focus on the flickering screen instead of the heat of him buried to the hilt.

"later," you rasp, securing a kill and kicking away through sheer muscle memory. "if you can fucking behave."

mark groans like you’ve wounded him, but he mostly stills—except for the way his fingers keep tracing absent, possessive circles low on your stomach, except for the way his lips keep finding patches of skin to suck bruises into between ragged breaths. "better win fast then," he murmurs, teeth scraping your shoulder in warning. "cause i missed all of you, [y/n]."

your eyes flick down instinctively—and there, just below your navel, the faintest swell where the tip of him presses up inside you. the sight punches a shaky noise from your throat, your body clenching around him before you can stop yourself.

"f-fuck—" mark’s whimper is wrecked, his forehead dropping heavily between your shoulder blades as his hips jerk involuntarily. you can feel him throbbing, the slick drag of him as he accidentally pushes deeper. "christ, you’re gonna kill me," he grits out, fingers trembling where they splay across your stomach like he’s mapping the bulge.

you swallow hard, throat bobbing against the thick press of him inside you, forcing your attention back to the screen even as your thighs tremble on top of mark's. "then fucking stop moving," you snap, but your voice fractures halfway through, turning the command into something embarrassingly close to a plea. the kill feed lights up with your username in bold strokes but the victory does nothing to hide how wrecked you already sound, how your walls flutter around him when he chuckles darkly against your neck.

"you're doing so good, baby," mark murmurs, lips dragging along your pulse point as his hands slide up your chest. his thumbs brush over your nipples through your shirt, teasing just enough to make you jolt but not enough to truly distract—not when you're finally gaining ground, finally winning. "carrying this match and taking me so well..."

you bite back a whimper, fingers flying across the keyboard as you cap the point. eight minutes. eight agonizing minutes of mark's cock seated deep inside you, his hips making tiny, barely-there rolls whenever you did something particularly impressive—a well-timed ult, a perfect parry—until you were dripping around him, your sweat-slicked back sticking to his chest. you don't even remember when you (or mark) had taken your shirt off. the start had been a disaster, but after forcing that useless jeff to swap, after taking matters into your own hands, your team steamrolled through the enemy like they were nothing. just like you knew they would.

the victory screen flashes gold, the triumphant DING of your rank-up swallowed whole by the filthy, wet sound of mark’s cock driving into you—deep, too deep, the angle so brutal your vision whites out for a second. his hands lock around your waist, flipping you before you can even process it, and suddenly you’re straddling him, knees digging into your chair as he yanks you down onto him with a groan that rattles your bones.

"fuck, look at you," mark gasps, voice shredded. his fingers scramble over your hips, your stomach, your chest—like he can’t decide where to touch first, like he’s starving for all of you at once. his hips snap up, relentless, the thick drag of him punching a broken noise from your throat. "all mine. perfect for me."

his praise is molten, spilling between feverish kisses, between the slick clash of tongues as he licks into your mouth. you can taste your name on his lips, sweet and desperate. his cock brushes that spot inside you with every thrust, just right, and your back arches on instinct, nails biting into his shoulders hard enough to bruise.

"knew you could do it," he growls, hands fisting in your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to his teeth. "knew you’d win. my brilliant, beautiful boy—"

his voice cracks on the last word, and god, the way he’s looking at you—eyes black with want, lips swollen from kissing you stupid, his usual awkward confidence unraveled into something raw and needy—it’s worse than the pleasure, worse than the way his cock stretches you open. because this? this is mark grayson coming apart beneath you, for you, his breath coming in ragged bursts as his grip on your hips turns possessive.

you’re both a wreck—skin gleaming with sweat, your thighs trembling where they bracket his hips, the filthy, wet sound of him sliding into you over and over until your vision whites out at the edges. his grip on your hips is brutal, thumbs pressing into the bone hard enough to bruise, holding you down as he grinds up with a snap of his hips that punches a sob from your throat. "mark—!" his name comes out broken, slurred between panting breaths, and he’s no better, his voice ragged as he chokes out, "that’s it, baby, take it—fuck, just like that—" like he’s unraveling, like he’s worshipping you.

you cut him off with a sharp roll of your hips, stealing the groan right from his lips as you take control, your fingers tangling in his hair to yank his head back. "shut up," you mutter, but it’s fond, "you’re so fucking loud." his hands scramble at your back, blunt nails dragging red lines down your skin as you ride him with ruthless precision, chasing your own pleasure just as much as his, the whimpers and groans coming from his lips not stopping. the chair creaks dangerously beneath you, your forgotten headset hitting the floor with a clatter, but you don’t care—not when mark’s thrusts are growing erratic, his rhythm faltering under your relentless pace.

you lean in, teeth scraping his cheekbone before you kiss him, messy and biting, swallowing his gasp as you nip at his bottom lip. "gonna come already?" you taunt, voice rough, "thought you had more stamina than that."

mark growls—low and feral, the sound rumbling through your chest like thunder—and suddenly the world tilts. his arm snakes around your waist, hauling you back flush against him with a brutal yank that makes your gaming chair screech in protest. your chest meets his, sweat-slick and heaving, as he manhandles you like you weigh nothing.

one hand fists in your hair, wrenching your head back to expose your throat while the other grabs both your wrists, pinning them behind you with crushing ease. "stay still," he groans against your ear, voice ragged with want, and then he’s moving—snapping his hips up hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs, each thrust deeper, meaner, the angle punching ragged moans from your throat.

you’re burning. tears streak down your face, hot and humiliating, but you can’t—fuck, you can’t stop the way your body arches into him, the way your thighs tremble as he fucks up into you with punishing precision. his hand gropes your ass, fingers digging into flesh as he holds you at that perfect, devastating angle, every drag of his cock lighting your nerves on fire.

"that’s it," mark pants, his breath scalding against your shoulder. "take it. fucking take it." his pace turns brutal, the wet slap of skin on skin drowning out the game’s distant lobby music. you don’t care. can’t care. not when he’s ruining you like this, not when every snap of his hips has you sobbing, oversensitive and wrecked but needing more—

"fuck, look at you," he pants against your ear, voice wrecked as he watches his cock disappear into you with every snap of his hips. "taking me so fucking good—god, you feel perfect—" his words dissolve into a whimper when you clench around him, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he fucks into you with desperate, uneven thrusts.

you can feel him everywhere—the heat of his chest pressed against yours, the bite of his fingers on your wrists, the relentless stretch as he bottoms out again and again. "gonna—fuck—" mark's warning is barely coherent, his whole body tensing as he pulses inside you, his release hot and overwhelming. but he doesn't stop—can't stop, not when you're still clenching around him, not when your own orgasm is so close.

his hand slips between you, calloused fingers wrapping around your neglected cock, and it only takes three rough strokes before you're coming with a broken cry, painting both your stomachs in streaks of white. mark groans as you tighten around him, his hips stuttering through the aftershocks as he mouths at your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach—like he still can't get enough even now.

mark gathers you against his chest as you both come down, his lips pressing shaky, open-mouthed kisses to whatever skin he can reach—the sweat-damp curve of your temple, the corner of your swollen mouth, the frantic rabbit-quick jump of your pulse. "so good," he mumbles against your throat, voice wrecked and raw. "so fucking perfect for me. missed you—god, missed you so much, baby." his arms lock around you like steel bands, all that stupid superhuman strength trembling with the effort of not crushing you.

you feel him shift—his softening cock dragging slow and filthy out of you, the obscene wet sound making your thighs twitch—then pause. his breath hitches when he sees it: his cum starting to leak from your used hole, glistening in the dim light. a rough noise tears from his throat, and before you can even process it, he's pushing back in with one sharp roll of his hips, the thick head of his cock scooping up the spill and stuffing it back inside you where it belongs. "mine," he growls, biting at your shoulder as he seats himself to the hilt again, making sure not a single drop escapes.

you should shove him off. should snap something scathing about his disgusting possessiveness, his pathetic need to keep you full of him. but your traitorous hands fist in his hair instead, dragging his mouth to yours in a biting kiss as your legs lock around his hips. his groan vibrates through your chest when you arch up, taking him deeper—like you couldn't bear to let him pull away either. pathetic. you're both so fucking pathetic.

so. this was supposed to be a quick little 3-4k one-shot. supposed to be. but then reader and mark decided to have feelings (gross) and now here we are at 7.7k words of competitive gaming, unresolved tension, and mark being absolutely insufferable (affectionate). whoops? anyway, hope you enjoyed this self-indulgent mess as much as i enjoyed writing it—because honestly, i have no regrets.

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felassan · 1 year ago

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New Details on DA4 from this IGN article: "Dragon Age: Dreadwolf Is Officially Being Renamed, With Gameplay Reveal Set for June 11 - EXCLUSIVE"

"BioWare confirmed that The Veilguard will feature seven playable party members, and that it will feature “fun and fluid, moment-to-moment combat” while continuing to center strategy via the unique powers of each companion.

BioWare general manager Gary McKay explains that while Solas is “still very much a part of the story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard,” the team wanted a title that reflected a “really deep and compelling group of companions.”

“One thing that’s important to remind fans is that every Dragon Age game is a new and different experience and this game, more so than ever, is about you and your companions – a group that you must rally to fight by your side,” McKay tells IGN. “We can’t wait for players to meet, connect and form their own personal relationships with the unique companions that make up The Veilguard. That’s the spirit of this game…of this story. Choosing who will join you on your adventure, fight alongside you, and be there by your side in the end.”

McKay claims that the name change wasn’t a matter of focus testing, which commonly informs decisions like these. He even goes so far as to admit that sticking with Dreadwolf might have been easier.

“We actually think sticking with Dreadwolf would have been the safer choice – ‘Dread Wolf’ is a cool name after all!” McKay says. “In the end, it was most important for us to have a title that was authentic to the companions that are the heart of this adventure we’ve created. We’ve worked throughout development to create really incredible backstories for each companion that intersect with the main narrative in meaningful ways.”

As for why it’s not simply named “Dragon Age IV,” McKay says it’s for the same reason that Dragon Age Inquisition wasn’t called “Dragon Age III: Inquisition.”

“Every game in the series tells its own unique story and the title is an important element to help set the stage for the next standalone adventure inclusive of its own hero, companions, narrative arc, villain, setting, etc,” he says.

Asked what it means for BioWare to finally be able to show The Veilguard to the world, McKay said, “As the studio head and executive producer, it’s been incredible to see the journey, resilience and passion that this team continues to bring every day. We have an incredible group of both BioWare and Dragon Age veterans who have been with us for years, as well as new faces and voices that love the series who have helped to create an unforgettable experience we feel will be worthy of the Dragon Age name.”

So who exactly are the Veilguard? In the lore, the Veil is a barrier between the physical world and Fade, which is Dragon Age’s spirit realm. Solas, who helped create the Veil, now wants to destroy it. Hence, as McKay puts it, “the Veil needs guarding.”

While acknowledging that the why and the how is definitely spoiler territory, McKay says, “The biggest clue I can share is that you and your companions – that make up The Veilguard – are central to taking down a new evil threat unleashed upon Thedas. It might not just be Solas.”

McKay isn’t quite ready to reveal the party members quite yet, but does provide some hints on what to expect, including some initial info on romances.

“We spent a lot of time making our companions feel authentic based on their own unique experiences within this larger fantasy world, which in turn makes the relationships you form with them feel even more meaningful. We’ve tapped into Dragon Age’s deep lore and explored its most iconic factions to bring each of the seven companions and their stories to life,” he says.

“I won’t spoil next week’s reveal but I can say we’ve created a story where you can impact the world and the companions that surround you. Player agency is important to the Dragon Age: The Veilguard experience and allows each player to form unique personal connections with their companions of choice. And, yes, you can romance the companions you want!”

McKay says the decision to pare the number of companions from nine to seven is mostly down to it being the “right number for the story we’re telling.” Each one is intended to represent a unique faction or element from Thedas, and will feature their own arc with “stories of love and loss, each with meaningful choices and emotional moments.”

He continues, “As you accompany your companions to unravel their backstory and earn their loyalty and friendship, you’ll visit more regions of Thedas across a deeper variety of biomes than any Dragon Age before it.”

McKay mostly sidesteps questions of how Inquisition’s characters might fit into The Veilguard’s story, though he does confirm that it will once again feature an original protagonist similar to The Warden, Hawke, and The Inquisitor, noting that each Dragon Game has its own standalone story with its own thread and conflict.

“Games across the Dragon Age franchise are never designed as a game-over-game continuous storyline. There are familiar arcs, factions and heroes important to the overarching Dragon Age universe that weave through the new story we’re telling,” he explains. “The previous games, characters and events aren’t the anchor of Dragon Age: The Veilguard it’s about your adventure with a brand new cast of companions that you must rally to fight against a powerful force.”

He once again teases another villain beyond Solas: “I don’t want to get too deep into spoiler territory but I can say that the Dread Wolf is not the only god players need to be worried about.”

When The Veilguard is finally revealed on June 11, BioWare’s presentation will include 15 minutes of gameplay from the opening moments of the game, which will help set up the story. On the gameplay front, McKay says that The Veilguard’s combat was a “big area of focus” and something the team wanted to push forward. Among other things, McKay says that The Veilguard will feature an ability wheel designed to give players more direct control over their characters.

“As an RPG, strategy in combat is important as you bring two companions to every fight. Each companion brings unique powers and abilities that have a direct impact on how you choose to take down the enemies at hand,” he says. “To add another layer to that strategic element, we’re introducing a new ability wheel where you can pause the action and set up your next move – whether it’s your companions’ abilities or your own.

“The ability wheel opens up a huge amount of strategic possibilities, giving players the ability to control the flow of combat and link powerful combinations of abilities between players and their companions that can quickly turn the tide of any battle. We think we’ve found an exciting balance between fun, fluidity and strategy for every encounter.”

“This is a game and experience that continues BioWare’s tradition of single player RPG storytelling set in the epic fantasy world of Thedas,” McKay says. “We know Dragon Age fans and the community have been waiting a long time for the next game and we could not be more excited to share our gameplay reveal on June 11.""

[source] (emphasis mine)

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas

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mangionemuse98 · 5 days ago

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Velvet Chains 🖤⛓️

Chapter 1: The Interview + First week

A/N: Here is the first chapter of Velvet Chains. I put my PR skills to use for this. I've also learned a couple data engineering terms from my partner who is a data engineer and was also a comp sci major. So thanks to him for lowkey helping me with this project lols. But anyways, I hope you enjoy! 💋

Warnings: No smut. Just lots of tension. Pet names like "Good Boy".

Words: 2.8k+

The Fifth Column HQ - Midtown East, Park Avenue

Monday, 9:57 AM

The scent of sandalwood and jasmine oil clung to your skin. You had woken up early, earlier than usual, and still felt behind. Not in time, but in intention.

You weren’t nervous, just…curious. You didn’t usually involve yourself in technical hires anymore. That’s what you had an entire infrastructure team for. But this one, Luigi Mangione, had piqued your interest. The way his white paper broke down multi-variable crisis response algorithms had been... unexpected. Not only was it brilliant (which it was), but it also read as if someone was attempting to control the future. And people who try to control the future are either incredibly intelligent or deeply flawed, or both.

You could work with that.

Your office buzzed quietly behind its tall frosted glass doors. Minimalist, but plush. Sandstone walls, caramel velvet furniture, a long marble desk facing Central Park, and Chloe, your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, is snoozing in her little ivory boucle bed beside you. A half-eaten almond croissant from Maman sat untouched on a plate, and your second chai latte was already cold.

You glanced at your Cartier Tank watch. Three minutes early.

Right on time.

A gentle knock.

Vanessa Lang, your no-nonsense but always-cheerful HR Director, peeked in. “Ms. (Y/L/N)? Your 10 o’clock is here.”

You gave a subtle nod. “Send him in.”

And then, he walked in.

You didn’t know what you expected. Something twitchy? Arrogant? Maybe disheveled genius in the tech-guy cliché way. But this, this wasn’t that.

Luigi Mangione had quiet storm energy. He moved like he was trying to take up less space, yet you felt him the minute he entered the room. He was in all black, of course. Black trousers, black crew neck sweater, black bomber jacket. Tight, defined curls. Thick brows, sharp jaw, and those deep hazel-brown eyes that flicked to everything and nothing at the same time. He looked at you last. But when he did, he really looked.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)” he said gently, extending a hand. His voice was low, a little hoarse. “Thank you for seeing me.”

You stood and took it. Firm handshake. Huge hands, clean nails, bitten a bit at the edges. You clocked everything.

“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Mangione.”

“Please,” he murmured, “Just Luigi.”

Your lips curved slightly. “Alright, Luigi. Come in. Have a seat.”

He moved with the cautious elegance of someone super hyper-aware of their surroundings. Like he had already mapped out an escape plan. You liked that. Smart men were often scared ones, deep down. But he didn't feel afraid of you, at least not yet. Just...calm.

You let the silence stretch for a few beats after he sat down across from you. Let him feel your gaze without it being hostile. Just assessing. Watching the way his fingers are laced in his lap.

“So,” you began, leaning back slightly, “Senior Data Engineer isn’t a role I usually sit in on interviews for. But your white paper made its way to my desk. Not through formal channels either and someone from Accenture passed it to me at a panel in Davos.”

Luigi’s brows lifted slightly. “I… didn’t know it got that far.”

“It did.” You tapped your acrylic nail lightly against your mug. “It was excellent. Structured, detailed, slightly obsessive.”

“I’ve been accused of that before,” he said dryly.

You smiled, tilting your head. “Of being excellent?”

“Of being obsessive.” He hesitated, then added, “Excellence is subjective.”

You leaned in, elbows to desk, hands folded. “Not here.”

His eyes flicked up to yours again and this time, they stayed. He didn’t smile. But he was intrigued.

You flipped open the folder Vanessa had prepped, though you didn’t really need it.

“Before we get into your background,” you said, “I want to be clear about one thing: this office may be playful, open, and even chaotic at times, but your performance is crucial. PR is a pretty fast paced environment and can get pretty intense at times but I protect my team, and I expect my team to protect this firm. If you’re not interested in community, you’re not going to last here. Understood?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I like structure. And I prefer clarity.”

You smirked internally. He’s already talking like that? Interesting.

“And are you someone who takes correction well?”

He blinked, caught slightly off guard. “In what sense?”

“If you were wrong,” you said casually, “And I pointed it out, in front of others or in private, would you get defensive?”

There was a long pause. Then he shook his head. “No. I’d probably go back and fix it before you even finished your sentence.”

Jesus. Good boy.

The way he said it. Not cocky. Not even trying to impress you. Just...pure efficiency. Pure submission.

“Good,” you said softly. “Because I don’t micromanage. But I will correct you.”

“I prefer that,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I hate ambiguity.”

A silence settled between you for a moment. Not awkward, but...charged. You saw it in his body language and how his eyes kept flicking to your hands, your posture, your control.

You could almost see the need brewing beneath all that stoicism.

You broke the moment by gesturing to his résumé. “Walk me through your work at TrueCar.”

He did. Concise, technical, but never arrogant. Luigi was clear about his contributions but quick to credit others. His voice warmed slightly as he spoke about a feature he built to detect fraudulent vendor accounts. He got a little bit animated when he described the backend of a crisis prevention alert system he designed.

“What brought you to crisis infrastructure?” you asked.

“My uncle had a stroke when I was seventeen,” he said, eyes flicking downward. “Watching the hospital scramble and seeing how miscommunication made everything worse…it stayed with me.”

You softened a little. “Is he alright now?”

“He’s good. Different. But good.”

You nodded slowly. “That explains the systems-thinking. You write code like someone who’s trying to stop time.”

Luigi looked at you. Just looked. The air felt...heavy.

“I like to know I did everything I could,” he said finally.

You nodded. Then stood, walking toward the sideboard near the window. “Water? Coffee?”

“Water’s great. Thank you.”

You poured him a glass and walked it over. Your heels clicked deliberately on the marble. He noticed. You saw the shift in his throat when you handed it to him. The way his fingers brushed yours, brief, but lingering.

You returned to your seat, took a breath, and rested your chin in your hand.

“I’ll be honest, Luigi. I didn’t ask you here just because of your code.”

He blinked. “No?”

“I saw something else in your paper. You were precise, controlled. But I also saw…need.”

His jaw twitched. “Need?”

“Mm.” You gave a tiny shrug. “The kind of need to make sure you get every line of code right. To anticipate disaster before it happens. To over-deliver, over-prepare. The kind of need that looks like control but is really just craving peace.”

He looked at you shocked. Gagged. Like a teenager that just caught you reading their diary.

“You’ve done your homework,” he murmured.

“Of course I have. This is my firm after all.”

Silence again. Deeper this time. Chloe stirred a little in her bed and yawned, oblivious.

You leaned forward slightly. “You’ll be in the basement-level lab with our infrastructure pod. Quiet. Minimal foot traffic. You’ll be paid very, very well. And I’ll expect absolute discretion. Most of our clients don’t even know we have the kind of crisis systems you’d be helping design.”

“I prefer quiet,” he said.

“Good.” You smiled again. “Because here’s the thing, Luigi. I am not looking for someone who craves attention. What I truly need is a person who can quietly step back and get the job done without making a scene. Are you capable of being that person?”

He held your gaze. “Yes.”

You nodded.

“Then the job is yours.”

He blinked again. “Wait—seriously?”

“I knew I wanted you on my team before you even walked through that door. This,” you gestured between you, “was just a formality. I just needed to look you in the eye.”

“And?”

Your smile turned sharper. “You passed.”

His cheeks pinked slightly. You noticed that, too.

You stood and offered your hand again. He rose, more confident this time.

“Welcome to The Fifth Column, Mr. Mangione.”

“Thank you, Ms. (Y/L/N)”

As he turned to leave, he hesitated. “Can I ask one question?”

“Of course.”

His eyes flicked up again, sharper now, curious. “Why me?”

You gave the softest, most dangerous smile you had.

“Because I like that you are the type of man that follows rules. But you need someone to give them to you.”

The breath caught in his throat.

“Have a good first day and see HR about the onboarding process,” you added sweetly, already turning back to your desk.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

And you just smiled to yourself, eyes lingering on the condensation ring his water glass left behind.

This was going to be fun.

Luigi’s First Week

The Fifth Column was louder than he expected. Not necessarily noisy but just alive. A kind of curated chaos that shouldn’t have worked, but did.

There were bursts of laughter echoing from the strategy pod on the 8th floor. Music spilling from the social team’s corner. Amapiano one hour, Sade the next. There were pop-up pastry boxes in the kitchen labeled with little calligraphy notes ("Take 2. Or 7."). Every conference room was named after a famous woman in politics or art. His was “Angela.” Down the hall there was “Maya,” “Frida,” and “Michelle.”

But downstairs in the data lab? Silence. Blessed, computational, optimized silence. And it suited him just fine.

Luigi had been there exactly five days. Already, the codebase made sense to him. The systems needed work and he’d been quietly mapping the internal infrastructure to redesign the alert hierarchy but the culture? That was still…baffling.

Everyone was too nice. Too sane.

Even the CEO.

Especially the CEO.

You were nothing like the horror stories he’d heard about founders, especially not billionaire ones. You didn’t name-drop your Rolodex. You didn’t hover. You didn’t interrupt. You just simply…watched.

That first day, you passed by his work area only once, heels sharp, voice soft, Chloe trotting beside you in a tiny pearl harness and said, “If you need a mental health day, just take it. No one has to earn rest here. You good on space?”

He blinked up at you like you had five heads. “Uh—yeah. I’m good. Thank you.”

“Okay.” You smiled, already walking off. “I have a sixth sense about clutter. If it gets messy, I’ll know.”

And that was that.

He hadn’t seen you much since. Not directly. But he felt you.

Especially when you were near. Especially when he wasn’t prepared.

Thursday, 4:12 PM – Your Office

You looked up from your screen.

There it was again.

That feeling.

Like someone was watching you. Not with malice but just…intent. Quiet, low-grade obsession humming like a low drumbeat.

You didn’t even need to check who it was. You already knew.

The hallway that ran past your office had a clean direct line of sight to your glass wall. No one ever lingered there. It was mainly used for passing between marketing and accounts. But every so often, you’d catch a faint flicker of black at the edge of your peripheral. Just a second too long.

You let the silence stretch as you sat back in your chair and waited.

Sure enough, Mr. Luigi Mangione passed again.

Slow this time.

Eyes on your desk, then your face. He didn’t even pretend to look away.

You raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into the ghost of a smirk.

“Mr. Mangione.”

He froze. Took half a second to step back and lean against the doorframe with a shy, slow nod. “Sorry, I just on my way to upload specs for that HEY Crisis module.”

“I’m sure you were.” You cocked your head. “And yet you’ve walked past this hallway five times in the last twenty minutes.”

He blinked. “There’s a glare in Angela. Was trying to recalibrate.”

“Mmhmm.”

You stood slowly. Chloe looked up but didn’t move, accustomed to your rhythm.

You crossed the room, heels deliberate but unhurried, and opened your glass door fully.

“Come in.”

Luigi hesitated. Then entered, posture straightening like he was walking into an interrogation. You nodded toward the velvet chair across from your desk.

“Sit.”

He sat.

“Do you always look this nervous?” you asked.

“I… don’t usually get called into the CEO’s office.”

You gave a small shrug and moved behind your desk. “You work for me. It’s going to happen.”

“I figured as much.”

You paused.

“Let’s talk about your model. The one you’re building off our crisis prototype.”

His posture softened slightly, talking tech grounded him. Of course it did.

“I didn’t want to interfere with any existing workflows,” he began, pulling out his small black Moleskine. “But your alert-response sequence has redundant branches, one too many calls to internal review before escalation triggers.”

“I helped designed those branches.”

He froze. “I—sorry—”

“I’m not offended. It’s clearly not my expertise which is why you’re here, Mangione,” you said, amused. “Keep going.”

He exhaled. “They’re technically fine. But it introduces latency. In a crisis, the delays could create bigger problems.”

You nodded slowly, folding your hands. “Show me.”

He flipped open the notebook, and your eyes followed his hands. The way he held the pen. The quick, efficient diagramming. The long fingers, nervous energy, but laser precision. His page was dense with handwritten logic trees. You could smell his soap from across the desk. Something clean and green, vetiver and pine. Expensive, but not flashy.

He was explaining root conditions and triggers now, and you were still watching his mouth.

How had you missed this before?

The quiet intensity. The need to please. To be right, but not at you, but for you.

He was deferential in the exact right way, not weak, not meek. Just…obedient.

And it made you want to test him.

“How long would it take to fix it?” you asked.

“Six days if I’m left alone. Four if I have access to analytics.”

You smiled. “You have access. Starting now.”

He blinked. “Just like that?”

You stood and rounded the desk again, this time with a folder in your hand. Set it down in front of him.

“You’re also coming to Monday’s client meeting with Parallax Capital. You’re going to walk them through the backend of the model in real time.”

Luigi looked stunned. “That’s not really my—”

“It is now.” You leaned in slightly, voice velvet. “I hired you for a reason. This is one of them.”

His throat bobbed. “Understood.”

You smiled. “Good boy.”

The moment hung in the air.

He looked like he stopped breathing.

You let the silence stretch just a second too long.

“Was that a problem?” you asked softly.

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse. “No, ma’am.”

Your lashes lowered, pleased. “Then we have an understanding.”

He looked down at the folder like it might explode.

You leaned closer, lowering your voice. “You don’t need to impress anyone else here. Just me.”

“I’ll… try.”

“Don’t try.” You smiled. “Deliver.”

He stood, slow and obedient.

Then hesitated again.

“Ma’am?” he said quietly.

“Yes?”

“I wasn’t watching you earlier,” he lied. “I was watching Chloe.”

Your brows lifted.

Then you laughed, low, rich, indulgent. “Sure you were.”

He flushed instantly.

You walked to the door and opened it yourself.

“Go recalibrate your lab,” you said sweetly. “And tell Vanessa to give you a project code name. You’ve just been upgraded.”

Later That Night – Your Penthouse, Park Avenue

You shouldn’t have been thinking about him.

But you were.

You sat on your velvet sofa, wine glass in hand, files strewn across the coffee table. Chloe nestled beside you in a cashmere throw.

You flipped open Luigi’s diagrams again.

His logic was flawless.

His sketches? Surgical.

His handwriting? Obsessive.

You couldn’t shake the image of his face, flushed, eyes wide, body frozen when you called him good. He hadn’t expected it. Probably hadn’t earned that praise in a long time.

But something in you wanted to give him more.

Not to flatter him. To train him.

There was a difference.

And Luigi Mangione?

He was going to learn it the hard way.

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I think this will be my favorite project thus far. I’m really tapping into some femme fatale energy but still keeping it a little sweet for our little ole Luigi. This will be a bit of a slow-burn so bare with me. Things will definitely heat up a lot later, don’t you worry! 😉

Masterlist 🤍

💎💋 TAGLIST 💋💎

@mangionebabymama, @mangionesdaisy, @luigislady, @notyancionline, @luigisbambinaaa, @multi-culti-girl, @sweetclassnotes3 @iinfinitelimits, @justlulupeachy, @bbyelle12, @dreamsareviolent, @mrs-cactus69

#luigi mangione #luigi fanfiction #luigi x reader #luigi mangione x yn #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x reader #femme dom #writers on tumblr #mangionemuse98 #luigi thoughts #luigi #velvet chains series #Spotify #nyc #public relations #luxury

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deyisacherry · 8 months ago

Note

hi i have two (2) questions

are you the person on yt that makes those masm sun x moon comps... bc if so, i have watched those so many times and im losing my mind i love them so much thank u for the content

bwahaha what are ur opinions on the episodes from today n yesterday (11/28 and 29) :3 ... rip any chance for sun and moon to be together legitimately EAHAHGFHA

OH HAIII

AJALDHWKD YEAHHH IT'S MEE KICKS A ROCK,,, OMGG YOU'VE SEEN THOSE AHWLFHEKFHWJJFD thank you so much for watching my silly compilations<'3333, the gays got me a YouTube editor arc fr

AND UHHHGHEJSWJHXKSFJ I HAVE SOSOSOSO MUCH TO SAAAY MANNNNNN YEAH ugbsuwhfjd iii guess we'll never have them siiigh idk what do i expect from this bois (no hate, just used to it)...

with complete honesty i do not support moon using a love potion on sun, HE SHOULD'VE TRIED SOMETHING ELSE, BE BETTER TO HIM, ANYTHING BUT THAAAT but then again my goodness he's so clueless he's so dumb he's SO INNOCENT AHWLFHEKF MY GUY DOESN'T UNDERSTAND EMOTIONS NO ONE HAS ACTUALLY GUIDED HIM PROPERLY TO KNOW WHAT TO DO, YEAH "BE NICER" BUT TELL HIM HOOOOW HE'S TOO SILLY

forcing someone to love you with love potions is crazy and not good, THEN AGAIN, MORAL?? SUN DID THE SAME AND NO ONE WAS TRASHING ON HIM FOR IT, THEY THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY HSQLHD??? and also

had so many cute little sun x moon moments without moon actually breaking any boundary MORE THAN JUST GIVING HIM A LIL KISSY ON THE CHEEK that i can't truly be grossed out by it

IT WAS ON HIS CHEEK WHEN IT COULD'VE BEEN ON HIS LIPS!!!! AND HE DIDN'T!!!! HE RESPECTS HIM!!!!! WJLSGEKJD

he was GENUINELY BEING SO NICE TO HIM, MY BOY WENT TO MAAAAKE CUPCAKES FOR HIM, NOT EVEN BUY, MAKE, HE MADE 129 CUPCAKES CAUSE DIDN'T KNOW WICH ONE WOULD HE LIKE THE MOOOSTGHJSJHSJSHSH

and and abqndbwnndbebfkf

don't get me wrong i don't HATE or despise Roxanne, i just don't like they're making her this DIRTY, THAT EVIL LAUGH GOT ME DEATH STARING AT MY PHONE AHQKHFKWGH ??? WHY WOULD SHE ACT LIKE THAAAT

on god was it just for the potion i would support her but this

THIS

TAKING SUN ON A DATE RIGHT AFTER HEARING HOW HEARTBROKEN MOON WAS???? THAT'S NOT COOL ROXANNE

they're all so fricking dumb dumb blocky dummies omg

AND DUDE MOON WASN'T EVEN MAD (yet) AT ROXANNE, HE WAS JUST SHOCKED AND SAD AND WALKED AWAYYYYYY, UGHHHHDWJZJS HE LITERALLY PROVED HE WOULD BE A GOOD BOYFRIEND

UGH MOONNNNN IF YOU ONLY HAD AN IDEA OF WHAT TO DO TO MAKE SUN THINK IT THROUGH AGAINNNNN

ughhhanshnebf but i guess by sun's words he will never like moon, i guess, i suppose, i dunno, i'm so saaaaaaaaaaad i just want my gay people, why is that so much to ask foooor THEY DON'T HAVE TO BE LOVEY DOVEY I JUST WANT THEM TO PLAY TOGETHER AND MOON GETTING SUN A LITTLE FLUSTERED AGAINNNN I CAN HAVE THAAAAT

anyway anygay......... i still like my ship

i respectfully don't fw roxanne x sun.......

and i am doomed to like doomed yaoi

THANKS FOR THE QUESTIONSSSS AAA

#ask answered #ask box #dey rambles #masm #moon and sun minecraft #masm sun x moon

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nihildenial · 6 months ago

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Satan Scout: Dewdrop Ghoul

Surprisingly, Dewdrop is very involved in Satan Scouts. his love for teaching young initiates and ghouls has made him a familiar face within the biweekly meetings. he originally was a senior scout of Troop 420 under Papa III, but his sash caught fire after his elemental change. he decided to start over rather than try to figure what he had done before.

Sash: Gluttony Brown, 2nd highest rank

Era IV Badge: Sister Imperator is troop leader

Troop 666 number badges

Demon Wings: Completed a Ghoul Satan Scout assignment

Rising Guitar Star: Given to him when he was promoted to lead guitarist in Ghost

MERIT BADGES:

Zoomies: Did not destroy anything while having zoomies for two weeks straight

Lil Anarchist: Trained under a licensed Anarchist

Don't Touch Me: (a warning) and volunteered to save endangered Seguaro cacti

Support Your Local Library: Volunteers at innercity libraries

Netflix and Chill Award

Advanced Knife Fighting Techniques

Control Alt Delete: Taught comp sci class to the troop

Leave No Trace: Volunteered with National Park Service

Sunshine Star: Early Riser and Breakfast Cook Award

Pentagram: Volunteers as Altar Ghoul for new Summons

Check out the Satan Scout masterlist here!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost #ghumblr #nameless ghouls #dewdrop #dewdrop ghost #dewdrop ghoul #sodo #sodo ghoul #satan scout #satan scouts #troop 666 #nameless ghoul #headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons

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theurbanmechcomesforthee · 5 days ago

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GALLEON'S GRAVEYARD REGULAR FORCE COMPOSITION (mechs you'll see, not an actual force comp)

FIRE SUPPORT LANCE

-BANE-3-2, custom Bane 3

-LRM CARRIER

-MAULER

-Trebuchet

-Hollander (Thumper Cannon refit)

TANK LANCE

-Striker (Custom MG/Stealth)

-DEMOLISHER (fuel cell)

-SHRECK (CUSTOM MRM 30 VARIANT)

FRONTLINE

Hunchback 6N

Firestarter

Stalker

Awesome

Nova

Warhammer IIC

Trebuchet (wait why is it on both list-)

DRONE UNIT FIRE SUPPORT DIVISION

Hollander BZK-GGD

Hollander BZK-GGD2 "HIVE BOX"

Nova-GGD

Cataphract CTF-3D-GGD (One-off unit)

Mauler MAL-GGD

Awesome AWS-GGD

PRIME STAR, UNDER DIRECT SUPERVISION OF MERC COMPANY LEADER

-Marauder-DMH Dead Man's Hand

-Longbow "PULSAR"

-Rifleman III "Bones" (Command)

-Striker Light Tank (Custom MG/Stealth)

-Crab CRB-E "Emile", or "Crabby"

#battletech #mechwarrior #operation touchdown #tactical information

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reyaint · 8 days ago

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veylhera academy classes | overview

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

date: july 18-19 2025. started: 11:18pm ended: 12:06

i made a template it's on the masterlist!

@lalalian for inspiration on some of the classes/schedule<333

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

✧˖*°࿐course catalog overview

დ࿐ ‎˗ˋ course level indicators: ꪆৎ 𓂃 › (I–V): multi-year progressive courses ꪆৎ 𓂃 › (I): one-time foundational or survey course ꪆৎ 𓂃 › (H): honors-level class ꪆৎ 𓂃 › (SPE): specialized or individualized instruction

✧˖*°࿐core curriculum

at Veylhera, the academic year is divided into two semesters, and most classes span level I to level IV/V. core classes are mandatory, while others are electives or specializations. all courses blend modern magical application, advanced aura science, and hands-on spellwork.

*ೃ༄history

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ world history I–IV – global history with an emphasis on magical and non-magical civilizations, arcane revolutions, and cross-realm diplomacy. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) history of tesrvenkodria I–IV – a comprehensive look into the founding of the nation, leyline conflicts, and the rise of the Prismatic Court. (required I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ magic history I–IV– evolution of magic theory and practice through the ages, including key figures and breakthroughs. (required I–II)

*ೃ༄ethics, geography, & ley studies

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ leyline geography & magical ecology (I–II) – maps, ley currents, regional tone zones, and biosphere impact. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ cultural ethics & civil diplomacy (I–IV) – negotiation, multi-realm relations, aura-neutral mediation. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ tone resonance theory (I–II) – how tones affect individuals, rituals, and architecture. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ mana ethics & magical responsibility (I–III)– legal implications of spell use, overcharge laws, and magical restraint. (required I)

*ೃ༄mathematics & sciences

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ mathematics I–IV – magical measurement theory, dimensional computation, enchanted calculus. (required I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ critical reasoning I–IV – logic, analysis, tactical deduction. (required I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ applied sciences I–IV – cross-field applications of aura-magic to modern tech, medicine, and combat. (required I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ leyline mechanics & ritual stability I–IV– ritual architecture, ley theory, containment glyphwork. (required I)

*ೃ༄language & communication

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ language & rhetoric – students must master 2–3 tongues by graduation.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) tesrvenkodria language & comp (I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) tesrvenkodria literature & comp (I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ additional options: mythic tongue studies, ancient spellscript decoding, aura-infused speech (electives)

*ೃ༄magical & aura arts

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ aura dancing (I–IV) – movement-based aura control, battle flow, ceremonial use.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ spellcraft composition (I–IV) – creation of original spells, layering tonal patterns. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) echo-listening (I–IV) – training in hearing aura, magical frequency detection, and resonance reflection. (required I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (SPE) (H) aurawork (I–IV) – individually guided aura mastery. (required I-IV)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ meditation: magic & battle (I–IV) – ley-breath training, battle calm, mana circulation. (required I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) magic theory (I–IV) – advanced conceptual magic, runic theory, and arcane logic. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) spellwork (I–V) – comprehensive spell training. (required I–V)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) potions (I–V) – alchemy, aura tonics, volatile mixtures. (required I–II)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) magitech (I–IV) – engineering aura-technology hybrids. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ aura conditioning & overload management (I–II) – stress rituals, mana exhaustion recovery. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ ley harmonization drills (I–III) – synchronization with local ley fields.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ mana threading & weavework (I–IV) – fine-control of aura threads for enchantment and surgery. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ high-risk spellcasting (I–III) – fifth-year only. blacksite, unstable terrain, and emergency casting.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ spectral & tonal manifestation (I–IV)– ghost-tone conjuration, light/energy constructs.

*ೃ༄combat arts

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ martial Arts (I–IV) – Hand-to-hand combat, mixed martial weapon forms. (required I–III)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ aura combat & dueling etiquette (I–IV) – controlled sparring, dueling laws, tournament training. (required I)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) strategy analysis (I–IV) – tactical theory, battlefield prediction. (required I–IV or 4 honors passes)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ (H) battle experience (I–IV)– live combat assessments. (required I–IV or 4 honors passes)

✧˖*°࿐electives

*ೃ༄magical & practical electives

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › magical creatures (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › ruins & artifacts (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › divination (I–II) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › astrology (I) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › anatomy (I) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › marine biology (I) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › aura weaving & enchanted textiles (I–II) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › ritual ink & sigil crafting (I–III) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › forensics (I)

*ೃ༄creative & physical electives

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › theatre (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › art (II), art history (I) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › pottery (I) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › culinary arts (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › singing (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › fashion design (H) (I–II) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › psychology (H) (I–II)

*ೃ༄ languages (I–II)

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Spanish ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Italian ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Latin ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Japanese ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Chinese ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Korean ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Tagalog ꪆৎ 𓂃 › German ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Russian ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Portuguese ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Gaelic

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Mythic Tongue Studies ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Ancient Spellscript Decoding ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Aura-infused Speech

*ೃ༄weapons electives

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › archery (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › throwing knives (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › fencing (I–IV) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › magical riflery (I–II)

*ೃ༄sports and physical arts

(taken as electives or clubs)

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Archery ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Horse Riding ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Swimming ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Dance ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Diving

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Baseball ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Basketball ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Softball ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Soccer/Football ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Volleyball ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Wrestling ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Cheerleading ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Track & Field ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Tennis ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Ice Skating ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Karate ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Kickboxing ꪆৎ 𓂃 �� Badminton ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Golf ꪆৎ 𓂃 › Ballet

*ೃ༄5th year field programs

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ national fieldwork: internships with the Prismatic Court, military strategic teams, and leyward diplomats.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ international arcane exchange: spell and aura exchange programs across global academies.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ blacksite observation: exposure to high-risk zones such as the Thalana Rift.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ trial-based graduation exams: students are graded on live battle, leyline repair, and diplomatic spell usage. as well as some writing ones.

i forgot tags in my last posts<3

@reverieshifts @lalalian

#reyaint #reality shifting #shiftblr #reality shifter #shifting #shifting community #shifting motivation #anti shifters dni #dr scrapbook #dr world #boarding school dr #magic system dr

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alldancersaretalented · 1 year ago

Text

Project 21 Solo Comp Results Season 9

Nuvo Meadowlands (September 29-October 1, 2024)

Junior Solos:

6th: Bristyn Scifres (Ode To The Blue)

7th: Berkeley Scifres (Interrogation Room)

Jump Las Vegas (October 20-22, 2023)

Mini Solos:

4th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Berkeley Scifres (L.O.V.E.)

4th: Bristyn Scifres (Little Secrets)

5th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

7th: Madelyn Nasu (This Will Be)

7th: Leilani Lawlor (Cold Hearted Snake)

Teen Solos:

1st: Gracyn French (Sillhouetted in Sunshine)

5th: Stella Eberts (Nebula)

5th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

10th: Lilly Barajas (Bone Marrow Stem)

10th: Ally Choi (Echo)

Senior Solos:

3rd: Avery Reyes (I Dare You)

3rd: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

4th: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

Nuvo Tulsa (October 27-29, 2023)

Senior Solos:

4th: Kami Couch (Red Desert)

5th: Katie Couch (NERA)

24Seven San Diego (October 27-29, 2023)

Mini Solos:

5th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

6th: Aliya Yen (All That Jazz)

Junior Solos:

4th: Berkeley Scifres (L.O.V.E.)

5th: Bristyn Scifres (Little Secrets)

5th: Sara Von Rotz (Absolute Final Goodbye)

5th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

6th: Madelyn Nasu (This Will Be)

6th: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

7th: Leilani Lawlor (Cold Hearted Snake)

10th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Teen Solos:

2nd: Gracyn French (Silhouetted In Sunshine)

3rd: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

4th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

5th: Ally Choi (Echo)

8th: Dillon Barron (Moon Song)

8th: Lilly Barajas (Bone Marrow Stem)

8th: Stella Eberts (Nebula)

9th: Brooklyn Lieberman (The Clock)

10th: Brielle Lieberman (Happiness)

Senior Solos:

2nd: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

YAGP San Diego (November 2024)

Pre-Competitive, Contemporary

3rd: Aliya Yen (Matrix)

Pre-Competitive, Classical

Didn't Place: Aliya Yen (Kitri Act III Don Quixote)

Didn't Place: Aliya Yen (Coppelia)

24Seven Chicago (November 3-5, 2023)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

Radix Anaheim (December 8-10,2024)

Mini Solos:

7th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

5th: Sara Von Rotz (Absolute Final Goodbye)

10th: Leilani Lawlor (Cold Hearted Snake)

Teen Solos:

2nd: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

5th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

7th: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

Didn't Place: Stella Eberts (Nebula)

Senior Solos:

2nd: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

24Seven Provo (January 18-20, 2024)

Teen Solos:

5th: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

NYCDA Vancouver (January 19-21, 2024)

Junior Solos:

16th: Sara Von Rotz (Light Surrounds)

Nuvo Los Angeles (January 19-21, 2024)

Junior Solos:

4th: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

5th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

7th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

9th: Bristyn Scifres (Perderse)

Teen Solos:

2nd: Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

3rd: Gracyn French (Pale Blue Sun)

4th: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

7th: Richie Granese (The Way You Take Up Space)

Didn't Place: Brooklyn Lieberman (More Than One Time)

Senior Solos:

7th: Lexi Blanchard (Catching Smoke)

Nuvo Santa Clara (February 9-11, 2024)

Mini Solos:

1st: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

3rd: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Sara Von Rotz (Light Surrounds)

4th: Regan Gerena (Heartburn)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Gracyn French (Pale Blue Sun)

5th: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

7th: Makeila Bartlett (Liquid Slow)

7th: Richie Granese (The Way You Take Up Space)

10th: Lilly Barajas (Falling Inwards)

10th: Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

Senior Solos:

4th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

6th: Kami Couch (Volant)

6th: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

8th: Avery Reyes (Tell Me Why)

10th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

Didn't Place: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

Didn't Place: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

KAR Redondo Beach (February 16-18, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 9-11:

4th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Top Elite Solo 12-14:

2nd: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Elite Miss Junior Dance:

2nd Runner-Up: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Elite Miss Teen Dance:

1st: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Other:

Cece Chung: Elite Solo NYC All Stars, Elite Solo HDE All Stars

Chloe Mirabal: Elite Solo NYC All Stars, Elite Solo HDE All Stars

Seven Detroit (February 16-18, 2024)

Senior Solos:

5th: Kami Couch (Volant)

5th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

6th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

NYCDA Las Vegas (February 23-25, 2024)

Teen Solos:

15th: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

YAGP San Diego (February)

Pre-Competitive, Contemporary

Didn't Place (Higher): Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

Pre-Competitive, Classical

Top 12: Aliya Yen (Kitri Act III Don Quixote)

Top 12: Aliya Yen (Graduation Ball)

NYCDA Santa Clara (March 1-3, 2024)

Mini Solos:

3rd: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

2nd: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

3rd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

4th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

10th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

13th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

6th: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

14th: Airi Dela Ccruz (To Build A Home)

17th: Makeila Bartlett (Red Shadow)

19th: Dillon Barron (Beneath The Surface)

Senior Solos:

3rd: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

4th: Kami Couch (Volant)

7th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

9th: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

11th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

15th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

Radix Dallas (March 8-10, 2024)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

4th: Regan Gerena (Heartburn)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

NYCDA Tulsa (March 8-10, 2024)

Teen Solos:

14th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

Adrenaline Los Angeles (March 8-10, 2024)

Mini Solos:

3rd: Cece Chung (Move)

24Seven Anaheim (March 22-24, 2024)

Mini Solos:

1st: Aliya Yen (Mink, Schmink)

Junior Solos:

1st: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

1st: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

1st: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

3rd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

3rd Regan Gerena (Heartburn)

Teen Solos

3rd: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

4th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

4th: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

10th: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

Senior Solos:

3rd: Avery Reyes (Tell Me Why)

5th: Lexie Blanchard (Fame)

5th: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

6th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

6th: Kami Couch (Volant)

7th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

7th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

Ultra Mesa (April 5-7, 2024)

Top Ultra Competitive 12-14 Solos:

9th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

24Seven Bellevue (April 5-7, 2024)

Mini Solos:

7th: Delaney Anbarden (Hollyrock)

Junior Solos:

4th: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

Showcase Only Solo: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

Showcase Only Solo: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

24Seven Glendale (April 19-21, 2024)

Mini Solos:

6th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

1st: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

2nd: Leilani Lawlor (Take Note)

6th: Regan Gerena (Over The Rainbow)

7th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Teen Solos:

1st: Richie Granese (Nothing More Simple)

2nd: Brooklyn Ladia (The Middle Is The End)

2nd: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

2nd: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

6th: Dillon Barron (Beneath The Surface)

Senior Solos:

2nd: Lexi Blanchard (Clay Pigeons)

3rd: Kami Couch (Volant)

3rd: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

4th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

4th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

5th: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

5th: Avery Reyes (I Dare You)

Nuvo Westminster (April 26-28, 2024)

Junior Solos:

Didn't Place: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

Teen Solos:

Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

24Seven Houston (April 26-28, 2024)

Junior Solos:

1st: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

NYCDA Provo (April 25-27, 2024)

Junior Solos:

8th: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

NYCDA Lake Geneva (April 26-28, 2024)

Teen Solos:

4th: Ally Choi (Echo)

Nuvo Provo (May 2-4, 2024)

Junior Solos:

4th: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

9th: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

24Seven Dallas (May 3-5, 2024)

Senior Solos:

6th: Lexi Blanchard (Clay Pigeons)

KAR Exclusive Long Beach (May 4-5, 2024)

Miss Elite Teen Dance

2nd Runner-Up: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

Jump Honolulu (May 10-12, 2024)

Junior Solos:

2nd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

2nd: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

3rd: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

5th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

6th: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

Teen Solos:

1st: Richie Granese (Black See)

5th: Lilly Barajas (All I Wanted)

6th: Makeila Bartlett (Red Shadow)

6th: Dillon Barron (Beneath The Surface)

6th: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

NYCDA Phoenix (May 10-12, 2024)

Mini Solos:

2nd: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

Junior Solos:

4th: Regan Gerena

Teen Solos:

2nd: Brooklyn Ladia (The Middle Is The End)

14th: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

NYCDA Meadowlands (May 10-12, 2024)

Mini Solos:

didn't place: Olivia Armstrong (About That Walk)

Radix Portland (May 10-12, 2024)

Junior Solos:

2nd: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

24Seven Orlando (May 10-12, 2024)

Teen Solos:

didn't place: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

KAR Long Beach (May 17-19, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 12-14

1st: Airi Dela Cruz (To Build A Home)

Other:

Airi Dela Cruz: Elite Ultimate Performance, Elite Solo HDE All Stars

Nuvo Phoenix (May 17-19, 2024)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

6th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

Teen Solos:

5th: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

Gravit8 Orange County (May 30-June 2, 2024)

Elite Teen Solos:

2nd: Sara Von Rotz (The Calling)

KAR Riverside (May 31-June 2, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 12-14

2nd: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

Top Elite Solo 15-19:

1st: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

Placed with other solo: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

Placed with other solo: Gracyn French (Pale Blue Sun)

Elite Miss Teen Dance

1st Runner-Up: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

Elite Miss Dance

1st: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

Other:

Gracyn French: Elite Solo HDE All Stars, Elite Ultimate Performance

Ally Choi: Elite Solo HDE All Stars, Elite Ultimate Performance

Ultra Ontario (June 6-9, 2024)

Top Ultra Competitive Solo 12-14

4th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

19th: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

Ultra Competitive Teen Icon of the Year

Finalist: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

Starbound Upland (June 7-9, 2024)

Junior Elite Solos:

1st: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

2nd: Aliya Yen (Mink, Schmink)

KAR Nationals Las Vegas (June 30-July 7, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 15-19:

3rd: Gracyn French (Chemtrails Over The Country Club)

Other:

Gracyn French: Elite Ultimate Performance

TDA Orlando (July 6-13, 2024)

Mini Female BDs:

Top 10: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

Didn't Place: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Finals Solos:

4th: Regan Gerena (The Hollows)

Junior Female BDs:

Winner: Regan Gerena (That's Life)

Top 10: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

Top 10: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

Top 10: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

Didn't Place: Olivia Armstrong (When I Go)

Didn't Place: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

Didn't Place: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

Teen Finals Solos:

1st: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

Didn't Place: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

Didn't Place: Leighton Werner (Drag Me Down)

Didn't Place: Lilly Barajas (All I Wanted)

Didn't Place: Stella Eberts (Bloom)

Didn't Place: Brielle Lieberman (Happiness)

Teen Female BDs:

2nd Runner-Up: Gracyn French (Chemtrails Over The Country Club)

Top 20: Brooklyn Ladia (The Middle Is The End)

Didn't Place: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

Didn't Place: Lilly Barajas (Falling Inwards)

Didn't Place: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

Didn't Place: Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

Senior Finals Solos:

Didn't Place: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

Didn't Place: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

Senior Female BDs:

Top 10: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

Top 20: Lexi Blanchard (Clay Pigeons)

Scholarships:

Non-Stop Dancer Winners (24Seven):

Aliya Yen (Mini): San Diego

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Anaheim

Regan Gerena (Junior): San Diego)

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Anaheim

Savanna Musman (Junior): Anaheim

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): Glendale

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): San Diego

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): San Diego

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): San Diego

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Glendale

Dillon Barron (Teen): Glendale

Ally Choi (Teen): Glendale

Stella Eberts (Teen): San Diego

Gracyn French (Teen): San Diego

Richie Granese (Teen): Glendale

Mady Kim (Teen): Anaheim

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): San Diego

Leighton Werner (Teen): Anaheim

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Glendale

Katie Couch (Senior): Anaheim

Kami Couch (Senior): Anaheim

Kenzie Couch (Senior): Detroit

Avery Reyes (Senior): Anaheim

Non-Stop Dancer Runner-Ups (24Seven):

Delaney Anbarden (Mini): Anaheim, Bellevue, Glendale

Cece Chung (Mini): San Diego, Anaheim, Glendale

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): San Diego

Olivia Armstrong (Junior): Anaheim

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): San Diego

Kira Lieberman (Junior): San Diego, Glendale

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): San Diego, Anaheim, Glendale

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): San Diego, Anaheim

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Anaheim

Dillon Barron (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Anaheim, Glendale

Ally Choi (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim

Airi Dela Cruz (Teen): Anaheim, Glendale

Richie Granese (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): San Diego

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim, Glendale

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Anaheim

Sammi Chung (Senior): San Diego

Katie Couch (Senior): Detroit

Kami Couch (Senior): Detroit

Loila Rhee (Senior): Anaheim, Glendale

High Five in Jazz (24Seven):

Lilly Barajas (Teen): San Diego

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): Anaheim, Glendale

Brooklyn Safford (Teen): Anaheim

High Five in Hip-Hop (24Seven):

Cali Cassidy (Teen): Anaheim

High Five in Ballroom (24Seven):

Olivia Armstrong (Junior): Glendale

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Bellevue

Jump VIPs (Jump):

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Honolulu

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Las Vegas

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Las Vegas

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Honolulu

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Honolulu

Gracyn French (Teen): Las Vegas

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Las Vegas

Jump VIP Runner-Ups (Jump):

Cece Chung (Mini): Las Vegas

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Las Vegas

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Honolulu

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Las Vegas

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): Las Vegas

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Las Vegas

Dillon Barron (Teen): Honolulu

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Honolulu

Ally Choi (Teen): Las Vegas, Honolulu

Stella Eberts (Teen): Las Vegas

Richie Granese (Teen): Las Vegas, Honolulu

Sammi Chung (Senior): Las Vegas

Avery Reyes (Senior): Las Vegas

BreakOut Artists (Nuvo):

Aliya Yen (Mini): Santa Clara

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Provo

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Santa Clara

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Santa Clara

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Santa Clara

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Meadowlands

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Meadowlands

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Santa Clara

Stella Eberts (Teen): Santa Clara

Gracyn French (Teen): Los Angeles

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): Westminster

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Los Angeles

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

BreakOut Artist Runner-Ups (Nuvo):

Delaney Anbarden (Mini): Santa Clara

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Santa Clara

Olivia Armstrong (Junior): Santa Clara

Regan Gerena (Junior): Los Angeles

Savanna Musman (Junior): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): Santa Clara

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Los Angeles

Dillon Barron (Teen): Santa Clara

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Santa Clara

Ally Choi (Teen): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Airi Dela Cruz (Teen): Santa Clara

Stella Eberts (Teen): Los Angeles

Richie Granese (Teen): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Mady Kim (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): Santa Clara

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Brooklyn Safford (Teen): Santa Clara

Sammi Chung (Senior): Santa Clara

Kenzie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Katie Couch (Senior): Tulsa, Santa Clara

Kami Couch (Senior): Tulsa

Loila Rhee (Senior): Santa Clara

StandOut in Jazz & Contemporary (Nuvo):

Cece Chung (Mini): Santa Clara

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Santa Clara

Dillon Barron (Teen): Los Angeles

Kira Lieberman (Teen): Los Angeles

StandOut in Ballet (Nuvo):

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): Los Angeles

StandOut in Hip-Hop (Nuvo):

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Los Angeles

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Westminster

Die Hard Dancer (Nuvo):

Cece Chung (Mini): Santa Clara

Protégés (Radix):

Regan Gerena (Junior): Anaheim

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Dallas

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Anaheim

Gracyn French (Teen): Anaheim

Richie Granese (Teen): Anaheim

Protègè Runner-Ups (Radix):

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Anaheim

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Portland

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Anaheim

Ally Choi (Teen): Anaheim

Stella Eberts (Teen): Anaheim, Dallas

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): Anaheim

Outstanding Dancers (NYCDA):

Aliya Yen (Mini): Santa Clara

Outstanding Dancer Runner-Ups (NYCDA):

Cece Chung (Mini): Santa Clara

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Santa Clara

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Santa Clara

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Santa Clara

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Santa Clara

Savanna Musman (Junior): Santa Clara

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Vancouver

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Santa Clara

Dillon Barron (Teen): Santa Clara

Ally Choi (Teen): Las Vegas

Airi Dela Cruz (Teen): Santa Clara

Stella Eberts (Teen): Santa Clara

Gracyn French (Teen): Santa Clara

Richie Granese (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): Santa Clara

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Santa Clara

Sammi Chung (Senior): Santa Clara

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Katie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Kenzie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

Hip-Hop Scholarship (NYCDA):

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Savanna Musman (Junior): Santa Clara

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Santa Clara

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Tap Scholarship (NYCDA):

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Winter Contemporary Intensive Award (NYCDA):

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Katie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Steps Summer Study NYC Intensive Scholarship (NYCDA):

Sammi Chung (Senior): Santa Clara

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

Steps Academy Program Summer Intensive Scholarship (NYCDA):

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Santa Clara

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Santa Clara

Ally Choi (Teen): Santa Clara

Gracyn French (Teen): Santa Clara

Ballet Hispanico ChoreoLaB Scholarship (NYCDA):

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

Intensive Standout Award (NYCDA):

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): Santa Clara

Leighton Werner (Teen): Santa Clara

Rising Star (NYCDA):

Richie Granese (Teen): Tulsa

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago Teen Summer Intensive (NYCDA):

Richie Granese (Teen): Tulsa

Peridance Global Summer Dance Intensive Scholarship (NYCDA):

Richie Granese (Teen): Tulsa

Ultra Solo/Duet/Trio Scholarship (KAR):

Airi Dela Cruz (12-14): Long Beach

Gracyn French (15-19): Riverside

#project 21 #season 9 #dance #results #solo results

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