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â  if  youâre  trying  to  make  me  jealous  ,  it's  not  working  âââ he's  clearly  not  your  type  ,  you  look  like  you're  in  pain  flirting  with  him  .  'Â
@newsworthâ
   philly cheesesteak, you big fucking douchebag. nora goes to georgetown because her uncle is the white house chief of staff and every time, every time she comes down to this fancy pants place, itâs always with the intent to visit him. but jess never does because phil never has the time. except this weekend, apparently. well. so he said - and now sheâs just stood in this big office that reminds her of his childhood bedroom, a big old visitors badge penned to her chest. wait here, donât touch anything. god, he even sounds like one of these people. some guy she doesnât recognise comes in -- â -- are you, ah. one of phillyâs guys? â
June 1st, 1998; 46th Street || @surejessâ
The chaos around her was loud and tinged with a panic that hung in the air, creating a thrill that sent stoney spikes of excitement racing through her. People moved without thinking, without planning. Some, just wanting to get out of the way of the fight, zigzagged in and out of mutant blasts- and straight into other bodies of people trying to do the same. Others seemed to be edging ever closer to the core of the fighting, whether to engage as well or simply be there when a victor was declared, only time would tell.Â
Sela fell into a third category, the ones who were actually doing the fighting. The ones who enjoyed it. The ones who soaked in all of the pain and terror and chaosâ basked in it. Who found themselves thriving in it.
Sela had already turned three unfortunate souls into piles of gray stone, and she had the itch to make more. She hopped out of the way of a stray piece of debris with a venomous cackle, and turned to check her flank. The sight that greeted her brought out a smile from behind her mask. Sauntering closer, she called out. âTell me youâre having fun, too, Miss. Turner.â
New Yearâs Gala; mid-evening
@surejessâ
Cyra was happily munching on some sort of little sandwich cutout that had been just sitting on one of the food tables when a striking and somewhat familiar laugh caught her attention. She turned and almost instantly saw the source of the sound: a woman with features as striking as her laugh. Admittedly, it took a few long moments of Cyra staring before she realized why this woman seemed so familiar. With a smile, she approached. âIâm sorry, I just have to ask. Is your name Jess Turner?â

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  in an instant chaos had struck. something was happening, something horrific and emmeline seemed to be dissociated from it all. someone had been following her and the moment after realising, she had ended up on the floor, ears ringing loudly and discombobulated. she had managed to make it to the side lines but she couldnât tell how long the panic had been going on. it was a blood bath and she was frightened of it. so many people were out for her blood and she could hardly stand straight.
  it was hard to get her mind from nathaniel but she knew that she was paranoid. a lot of bad things seemed to be happening and sheâd always think to him and then she felt terrible for it because he was her father. she had been devioted to them but she associated bad happenings with him automatically.
  nathaniel couldnât have done this... no... emmeline was now sat on the floor, her vision was still blurred but she recognised a figure near her - someone from the essex house. she would never escape it. emmeline was now unable to tell whether it was real... seeing the jess-ter. the woman was very self-loathing and couldnât help but emphasise her self importance as the essex name had been pushed on her to carry on when she had wanted to quit so many times before she actually had. âplease...â her voice was soft, eyes closing every now and again due to the hit she had been subjected to.
@surejessâ
Idk if I should go for Team usa or team Canada...?
as an american i am going for team canada sjs. đ i love the usa boys but thats just me.....