#EMMA. / v. survived

[jordanlihive]

Jordan, Marie, Sam, Emma and Cate WILL survive the season

[barrenstars]

❝ what will you do? ❞ emma asks with a frown, using her spoon to stir the contents of her latte. ❝ koko is in mikey's gang, right? you're in takemichi's... ❞ setting her spoon aside, she lifts her mug and takes a sip, offering the waitress that brings them their desired meals a soft look before she leaves. today was emma and seishu's designated shopping day, but the topic of discussion wasn't clothing at all. it was about the fight between takemichi's toman and mikey's new gang. ❝ i heard that mikey even has that hanma guy in his gang... he helped kisaki try to kill me, i don't even know who mikey is anymore. ❞ it's been a while since emma, herself, fell out with mikey. / @peachmuses

[soulsballad]

tag drop; tokyo revengers. ( p. 1 )

[smiletimeisrunningout]

FLICKER : sender thinks they’re too late to save receiver and begins to mourn them / sinks in defeat and grief, holding them close, only to find through a simple action (a cough, a twitch of a hand, a murmured word) that they haven’t left them after all.  + REVERSE (omg for Charlie after he gets strung up) @fantasywritten

"No... no, no, no..." she whispered, her knees on the ground and her hands cradling Charlie's face gently as Jack temporarily gave up; Kate was crying, Jack was in tears, but Emma couldn't, as always stony in the face of too much pain. Tears wouldn't come for now - couldn't, they had to keep going, they had to find Claire and then she'd have to kill Ethan, badly, make him pay for what he had done, because this island went by its own rules and she could plan to kill someone for once, he deserved it, he did-she was furious, the pain unbearable and quickly mutating into anger, but even so it was just too much, and she still felt it. She rested her lips against Charlie's forehead, because he deserved for her to stop a moment, even if he also deserved for her to do what she knew he'd want and keep hunting Ethan down, and Emma moved his head on top of her legs to keep him close, finding hard to breathe. Jack threw another punch on his chest then, making her wince: she get why he didn't want to give up, who would, and just as she was about speak up he gave another and Charlie suddenly woke. Her heart very nearly stopped too as he regained his breath, and this time tears did come, because out of pure relief and joy, "Hey! Hey, sugar, you are okay..." she cradled his face with her hands again, crying and laughing from too many emotions in the span of one minute, "You scared the hell out of us..."

[forcemeanakin]

Anakin Skywalker: A headboard gripper

WARNING: Nsfw content !!! Content: p in v sex, cream pie, dirty talk. A headboard was, in fact, hurt during the production of this drabble. Not proofread and written in the middle of the night after uni classes lol.

shoutout to my friend Emma for asking me this incredible question and fueling my drained mind to write something <3

Ofc he is a headboard gripper!

Using it as leverage to fuck deeper into you, yes sir

But I think he would use it specifically to get you full of him

He's strong af and he has the Force... this? yeah, this is to assert dominance

You're already stuffed by his thick cock, but he needs more: he wants to drown every single one of your senses, until the only thing you could do is feel him, taste him, see him.

Hazy vision, your sweaty body sticky and pressed to his. Hair out of line and all over your face. You're the most wonderful mess he has ever seen.

You borderline sound like a porn star, whimpering so high and loud, moaning his name because that's the only thing you could remember.

Legs wrapped around his waist, your ankles pushing his fit butt so he thrusts harder. Your boobs are bouncing to the rhythm of his hips and he takes the opportunity to rest his face in between them.

You crave more, your spongy walls convulsing around him in the hope to milk him for all of his worth.

Who is he to deny you your orgasm... any longer than he already has?

"You close, baby?" He pants, flexing his arms while he lowers his head to lick the drool off the corner of your mouth.

"Mmph-" You roll your eyes, so into the sub space of your mind to answer a real word. "Ani..." You indulge his desire to hear your voice, just for a bit.

"Yeah, my baby's close. Clenching around me like a vice." He hums half a groan, half a moan. "Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

"I-I-" You whine when he reangles to hit your G-spot better. "I want more!" You cry out loud, clasping his shoulders to survive the hellish pace he had set.

"More what, pretty girl?" He cocks a narcissistic eyebrow, looking down at your pathetic face.

And that's when he does it. Stretching his arm over his head, he grips the headboard of the shaking bed and hammers faster into you. And now he is everything you can see. Just like he wanted.

He knows the view of his abs curling as his hips buck forward drove you crazy every time. If it wasn't because you indeed love to see his chiseled torso, you would have already shut him up.

"More cock!" You quiver underneath him, completely in trance with the sight of a drip of sweat falling from his pecs and his toned bicep tensing at the effort. Veins popping to show off his strength. "More you." You moan in the low.

Side note: I also think Anakin has broken a shit ton of headboards, specially when he is gripping them with his mechanical hand.

He just can't measure his strength !!!!

Also he would totally be like: "want me to fix that?", MID FUCK AND PANTING LIKE THE SLUT HE IS

and yeah ofc he repairs what he broke

except for your pussy

[emmaxmeyer]

“  hey i got something for you look!  ”   *holds up middle finger* 

⦕☥⦖

Emma looked over at the younger girl, and a lopsided smile tugged at her lips. This girl reminded her of the crap her little brother pulled when he was younger; he often had given her a hard time when she was just trying to help. Man, did she ever miss him.

"Very funny...now c'mon, let's get you fed."

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: I was inspired a lot by the Bama Rush documentary and couldn't get the idea of a sorority girl in GOD U out of my head. Let me know if you want a part 2.

Warnings: some swearing

Words: 5.2k

Series Masterlist

Future probability cognition, the ability to see potential future outcomes, was usually a nice power to have. At 7, I knew my parents were going to get divorced before either of them considered filing. At 9, I knew my mother would focus all her energy on the agency. At 12, I knew that my older brother would take a head of surgery job in Buenos Aires, escaping the chaos at home. Despite this history, nothing could have prepared me for my second year at Godolkin.

The first day back on campus was uneventful: I survived a grueling early morning Pilates class that I envisioned would put me in Sydney’s, the Si Chi president, good graces and, later in the afternoon, I settled an argument between two Si Chi juniors by predicting that brunch would be the most successful rush event.

Being (one of) the first black high-ranking members of Si Chi could be a full-time job.

As I was re-reading the chapters for Brink’s class, my V-Phone buzzed with a text from Leah, one of the seniors in the sorority.

L: Do you know Emma?

I quickly typed back: Which one? Wallace or the girl who got the botched nj in SK?

L: Neither. Short girl with curly blonde hair. She’s here 4 u.

The yelp that left my mouth would have been embarrassing if anyone else was in the house study room. Quickly, I tucked my book under my arm and ran into the ivory and wood-paneled foyer complete with Tiffany crystal chandelier and faint instrumental piano music playing through the Bluetooth speakers. At the door, Leah’s arms were crossed over her lavender babydoll dress as she smiled fakely at Emma, who looked more apprehensive than usual.

“Emma, hi, I thought I told you to text me when you got here!” I greeted as I approached the two.

Emma’s expression relaxed when her blue eyes landed on me. “Sorry, I got distracted and then I got lost trying to find you.”

I glanced at Leah, who shot me a questioning look. “Thanks, Leah, I can take it from here.”

Leah shrugged, turned, and teleported into thin air. Emma’s eyes widened again as she stepped further into the house and I closed the door behind her.

“Sorry about Leah; she’s cagier than usual because she couldn’t get a refill on her favorites,” I explained.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you aren’t like that,” Emma admitted.

I paused to finally hug her and she nearly crushed me as she wound her arms around my middle. It felt like forever since I had seen Emma, even though it was at my dad’s annual 4th of July barbecue. When I pulled away, Emma eyed the book in my hand.

“You’re reading before school starts. Nerd,” she teased.

   I playfully pushed her shoulder. “We’re in college, we have to take school way more seriously now. Besides, a requirement for Si Chi is at least a 3.8.”

   Emma tapped her chin. “Let me guess, you have a 4.0.”

  I smiled and tugged her further into the house. Of course, I had to give her a tour of the house and introduce her to the girls we passed. When we finally got to my room, Emma collapsed on top of my pastel blue comforter, dropping her bag on the matching rug.

  “I know Si Chi is a top house, but you basically live in Barbie’s Dream House,” Emma beamed. “How do I get in? What do I have to do? I will do literally anything or anyone.”

   I rolled my eyes and set my book on my desk. “I’m glad you like the place but, you haven’t even met your roommate yet. What’s her name again?”

  Emma pushed herself up on her elbows with a huff. “Marie Moreau. I tried to find her on social media, but she doesn’t have any: No X, no TikTok, not even an obligatory Facebook.”

  Social media presence was basically a requirement at GOD U these days so it was a bold move for someone to show up without any. It could mean Marie was hardcore about her studies or…

  “She might have strict parents,” I pointed out, sitting next to Emma.

  Emma raised an eyebrow. “They better not be weird, cult-y parents. I guess that would be my luck too: have a psycho roommate my freshman year.”

   “Hey, no one could have had it worse than me: a slob who always had boys over and threatened to gut me in my sleep,” I argued.

   “But, you saw all of that coming,” Emma argued.

   I shook my head. “Only the part where she stood over my bed with a knife in hand.” I sighed and pressed my hands into the covers. “I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that ever again.”

   “Really, because some of these girls are giving unhinged,” Emma replied.

   “The nice thing is I either pick up on the signs or ‘see’ their breaking point,” I explained.

   Emma nodded and pushed herself off my bed to start exploring my room. As she started messing with my checkered Moschino teddy bear figurine, my phone buzzed on my desk. When I grabbed it, I saw it was a video call from Cate.

   “Hi, what’s up?” I greeted, holding the phone at the most flattering angle.

   “I’m trying to entertain myself while Luke preps for training,” Cate admitted.

   “What, you’re not totally entertained by your star boyfriend?” I teased.

   Cate rolled her eyes. “No, I can’t wait for this to be over. You’re coming, right?”

   I shook my head. “Sorry, we have a rush event at the same time, including a choreographed dance.”

  “Ooh, did you choreograph it?” Cate asked.

  “I might have helped a little.”

  “Well, I’m pissed I’ll miss it but make sure to have someone send me all the cute videos and pictures,” Cate requested.

  “Sure.”

  There was some yelling in the background and Cate rolled her eyes.

  “I have to go but we’ll talk later.”

  “Bye!”

  When I hung up, Emma was staring at me with her mouth gaping, the teddy figurine dangerously close to slipping from her grasp and onto the hardwood floor. I crossed the room as quickly as I could and carefully placed the figurine back on my dresser.

  “Emma, I love you but if you break anything, I will lose it,” I warned.

  “You know Cate Dunlap?” Emma asked slowly.

  “Oh, yeah, she’s my peer mentor. Dean Shetty paired us up last year since our powers are similar,” I answered.

  “So, you’ve met Luke Riordan? Like, you’ve been in his presence?”

  “Yes,” I answered slowly.

  “And you didn’t faint or throw up from his glory?”

   “Emma, he’s a regular person. His powers are insane but he is also human, just like us.”

  “No, I’m a regular person. Luke Riordan is, like, a demigod or something. Is he better looking in person?”

   I hesitated and busied myself with grabbing my rush outfit from my closet and setting it on my bed. Then, I stared at my shoes, feeling Emma’s eyes bored into the back of my head. I closed my eyes and focused on the event tonight, the potential sounds and people. Seconds later, I got a decent image of my Si Chi sisters and I dancing in front of the house, surrounded by freshmen girls in Princess Polly and House of CB. I focused all my energy on looking at our feet and tried not to groan when I saw red high-top Converse.

   “Every time,” I muttered as I opened my eyes.

   Two more years, just two more years of going along and I would reap the benefits: a strong ranking, a decent contract, and my pick of the most eligible supes. I just had to keep playing the game.

   I grabbed my platform red Converses and set them in front of my bed, sheepishly turning to Emma. “Yes, Emma.”

     She squealed. “I knew it!”

     I laughed at her joy as she bounced in her Vans. “Go to the training today and see for yourself.”

   Emma’s expression deflated slightly as she walked closer to me. “I wish you could come, you could introduce us!”

   “There will be a next time,” I stated.

   “Promise?” She held up her pinky and eyed me as I slowly wrapped my manicured one around hers. She opened her mouth but was cut off by an alarm going off on her phone. “Shit, I have to go film a video!”

   “You’re still doing Little Cricket?” I asked.

   Emma shushed me loudly and her eyes filled with panic. “Not so loud and definitely not in this house!”

  The girls probably already know all about it, I thought.

  I flipped my waist-length box braids over my shoulder and laughed as she rushed towards the door. “You don’t know where you’re going, let me walk you out!”

  She paused for a split second and gave me some time to catch up to her. However, I led her through the quickest route back to the front door and she gave me a quick hug before she took off. I laughed as I closed the door behind her.

  “Some things never change,” I mused.

   When I got back up to my room, I realized she left her backpack and groaned. She would have to learn to be more responsible if she was going to survive more than a week here. So, I grabbed my purse and her backpack before traipsing the campus. Fortunately, Emma had texted me her dorm information before she got on campus.

   “In case of an emergency,” she’d insisted.

    The freshman dorms were not as bad as I remembered them but I cringed at a few musty speedster jocks I crossed in the hallway. A brief premonition helped me duck to avoid an ice user’s power going out of control when I finally made it to Emma’s door. First, I rapped on the door three times.

    “Emma, it’s me, you really have to keep a better eye on your stuff!” I called.

     After a few seconds of no answer, I knocked again.

     “Seriously? I can’t always be looking after you,” I teased.

     Finally, the door swung open, revealing a pretty black girl with big brown eyes and long brown dreads that were pulled partly away from her face. Her eyes widened at me and I smiled.

     “Sorry, I’m looking for Emma, she left her bag in my----”

     Emma cut me off, appearing next to the girl, “I was wondering where that went, thanks!” She grabbed the bag from me.

    “Oh, uh, come in,” the girl said, stepping aside.

    I nodded and wandered further into their dorm. It was small, like most freshman dorms, but Emma’s side offered pops of color and coziness. The other side was more basic, probably because the girl just moved in.

   “Marie, this is Y/N, my best friend, Y/N, Marie,” Emma introduced as she plopped onto her bed.

    I turned to Marie and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

   She hesitated slightly before shaking my hand. “You too.”

  “Don’t worry, Marie, you’ll get used to her hotness,” Emma advised.

   My cheeks warmed as I whirled around to my friend. “Emma!”

   “It’s true!”

   The embarrassment floated in the pit of my stomach as I faced Marie, who looked somewhere between surprised and amused. “Sorry about her, she speaks without thinking.”

   “It’s okay. How do you two know each other?” Marie asked.

   “Her mom represents me,” Emma answered.

   “Oh.”

   “She’s the one who helped encourage me to make a YouTube channel and is helping me get into more commercials until my big break,” Emma continued.

   I sighed as I sat in Emma’s desk chair. “We’ve known each other since I was four and she was three.”

  “Do you want to be an actor too?” Marie asked.

   I shook my head. “I tried it when I was little but it wasn’t for me.”

   Emma’s eyes lit up and she sat up on her bed. “You should have seen her, she was so cute! She was that toddler in that one diaper commercial----”

   “Emma,” I softly begged.

    Marie laughed. “Now, I’m curious.”

    “Please don’t look it up, it’s not worth it anyway,” I insisted.

    Marie shrugged and sat on her bed. “My curiosity might get the best of me.”

    “Why did you have to mention that stupid commercial?” I whined at Emma, who laughed at my pain. “Anyway, what’s your major?”

     “Crimefighting,” Marie answered.

     I straightened up. “Me too.”

    “So, you’ve had classes with Brink? How is he? What’s he like?” Marie rambled.

    “Well, he’s really tough on first years and makes his tests almost impossible to pass,” I admitted.

     “Really?” Marie asked.

     “But, I can help you if you want; I did pretty well last year,” I offered.

     As soon as the words left my mouth, I questioned where they came from. Marie was a complete stranger, yet she was one of the easiest people to talk to. Normally, I stumbled over my words in front of new people, and this was…new.

    “That would be great, thanks,” Marie replied.

     Emma leaned forward. “Y/N, you are way too modest. She was in the top ten of the first years last year and she has a peer mentor and meets with Brink on a regular basis.”

     Marie snapped her attention to me. “Wait, what?”

     I shook my head. “She makes it sound more impressive than it is.”

    “No, I’m not; she hangs out with the Top Five all the time.”

    “Top Five?” Marie asked.

     Emma and I turned to her, stunned.

     “You don’t know what the Top Five are?” Emma asked slowly.

     Marie shook her head, growing tenser the longer we looked at her.

    “Godolkin ranks all the students based on their Q score, which is basically the strength of their powers, academics, and social media engagement. The Top One Hundred are the only ones published every day,” I explained.

   “And the Top Five are the only ones everyone really cares about since they’re the ones most likely to make it into the Seven,” Emma added. “It’s on the GOD U app.”

    “I don’t have a phone,” Marie admitted.

     Emma balked at her. “How have you gone this far in life without a phone?”

     Marie shrugged. “My parents wouldn’t let me have one.”

     “What about emergencies?” I asked.

     “Someone else always has one,” Marie countered.

     Something was off about her statement and I knew that if I focused on it long enough, I would get a premonition about her. However, I decided that it would be rude to do that in conversation and tabled it for later.

    “You’ll get through it,” I said.

    “So, what ranking are you, Y/N?” Marie asked.

    “Last I checked, I was number twenty,” I recalled.

     Marie and Emma’s eyes widened at me, and I shrunk a little under their gaze. It really was not that impressive considering how intense the nineteen other people above me were.

    “That’s amazing!” Emma cheered, leaping off her bed and hugging me.

    “How did that happen?” Marie asked gently.

     When Emma pulled away, I replied, “Well, right before summer break, I had a premonition about a case Brink had the class working on all year.”

    “You solved a crime?” Marie concluded.

     “I just helped with a tip,” I insisted.

    “Please, Y/N, don’t act like you haven’t solved cases before,” Emma stated.

     I narrowed my eyes at her and Emma smirked in reply. Marie held up her hands and shook her head.

    “Wait, as in plural?”

     “It’s really not a big deal. With all the forensics, psychology, and ethics classes you’ll take, you’ll be solving them too.”

      Marie looked unconvinced but did not push it. “So, what’s your ability? I’m sorry if that’s rude to ask.”

     “No, it’s fine. Future probability cognition, I can see potential outcomes for the future,” I explained.

     “That’s amazing,” Marie complimented.

      “Eh, a lot of times it means I get blurry images in my head but it’s helpful sometimes. What about you?”

      “Blood manipulation.”

       “Whoa, no offense, but that is such a supervillain power,” Emma thought outloud.

        “Emma!”

         “I said ‘no offense’!”

        Marie laughed. “It’s okay, I get why people would think that.”

       “Can you give us a demonstration?” Emma asked.

        Marie nodded and grabbed a switchblade from her cargo pants’ pocket. In a graceful motion, she cut one of her palms and held it out in front of her. Seconds later, a circle of blood floated in the air like water, swirling each way. Marie smiled at our expressions and the blood slowly flowed back in her palm and the mark healed.

       “That was awesome!” Emma cheered.

       “I think Brink will like you,” I added.

      “Thanks. I think it’s your turn, Y/N,” Marie said.

       I hesitated. “Well, mine is definitely not as impressive as yours and I can’t promise I’ll see anything…positive.”

     “That’s okay,” Marie insisted.

     “You can use me as a demonstration,” Emma offered.

     I turned to her and closed my eyes. My mind wandered to images of her face and the sound of her laugh. Eventually, I saw an image of her rolling around her dorm bed with some guy. Then, all of a sudden, she was small and---     “AAAH!” I jumped from my seat, both underclassmen looking at me confused.

     “Is it that bad?” Emma asked.

     My eyes looked everywhere but my best friend and my hands unconsciously flexed. “Whatever you do, do not bring a guy here in the future.”

   “You don’t want me to get laid?”

   “I don’t think you would want to experience what I just saw.” I shivered at the thought.

    “Have your powers made you respond like that before?” Marie asked.

     I nodded. “It’s rare, though, and I have help to get a handle on it.”

     Slowly, I sat down and focused on the orange circle rug on the floor. Suddenly, I wished Cate was there to wipe that premonition from my memory. My stomach churned and I swallowed thickly.

     “Oh, Marie, you have to come to the training with me today,” Emma announced.

      “What training?”

     “The Top Five have public training at the beginning of every year. This year, Luke Riordan is up first,” Emma explained with a grin.

       “Luke’s a big deal?” Marie asked.

       “Hell yeah, he’s number one!” Emma chastised.

        Marie turned to me. “Are you going?”

        I looked up at her and wondered if she seemed kind of hopeful. “No, I have to do rush tonight.”

      “On top of everything else, she is also the secretary of Si Chi, the top sorority on campus,” Emma bragged.

      “Wow, are you always this busy?” Marie asked.

     “Not always. Things calm down once rush is over.” My phone beeped in my bag and I grabbed it. “Speaking of which, I have to run and get ready.”

      “But you already look nice,” Marie commented.

      “Thanks, but I need to be up to Si Chi standards. Have fun at the training and Emma, please try not to act up too much.”

      “I can’t control what will happen once his clothes burn off.”

       “What?”        I shook my head. “I’ll see you around.”

    The next day, I was shocked awake by a series of texts from Emma.

          E: Emergency, pls come 2 my dorm.

         E: Srsly, Marie needs ur help.

    Immediately, I wondered my Marie would need my help. When I reached out to Emma last night, she was busy gushing over Luke and never mentioned any issues. Also, I didn’t see any posts about her on social media which calmed my nerves.

    After texting her I would be there soon, I slowly pushed myself to sit up in my head and pushed my silk sleep mask up over my scarf. Then, I meditated for a few minutes, breathing through all the chaotic thoughts and scenarios that included strangers and people that I knew. Just when my temples began to throb, I stopped and made my way into the en-suite bathroom.

   About thirty minutes later, Emma shoved her dorm room open and pulled me in. She was wearing a gray GOD U t shirt and matching shorts, her curly stuck up in random places.

   “Where the hell have you been?” she whispered.

   “I got here as soon as I could,” I defended. “What’s going on?”

    Marie stood from her desk, a deep frown on her face, and made her way towards us. “I’m not in any Crimefighting classes; it’s all performing arts!”

    I cocked my head to the side. “That’s weird. Can I see your schedule?”

   “It’s on my phone.” Emma handed it to me and I started scrolling through Marie’s schedule.

   “Did you register for any performing arts classes?” I asked.

   “No, I registered for all the first-year Crimefighting classes,” Marie insisted.

   The frustration was thick in her voice and I wondered what was keeping her from punching a hole in the wall.

   “Is there anything I can do?” Marie asked.

   “Sorry, I don’t know. I’ve never heard of this happening.” I paused for a moment and smiled. “But I might be able to help. I have a meeting with Brink today and if you come with me, I could introduce you and we could get this all figured out.”

   “Really? Do you know how it will go?”

   “Let me try.”

   I closed my eyes and focused on Brink, the Crimefighting building, and Marie. The images were as blurry as a Monet up close and all the audio was muffled as if everyone was speaking underwater. When I opened my eyes, I shook my head at Marie.

   “Looks like it’s up to fate,” I commented.

   Marie deflated and I did not know whether to comfort her or not.

   “I’m sending good vibes your way,” Emma offered.

   “Thanks, we’ll need it,” Marie replied.

    As much as I wanted to push back, I did not like not knowing how this would turn out. My heart drummed in my ears later that day as we walked to the Lamplighter building. At the very least, the sun was beaming on everything, making Godolkin look shinier than usual. It was the perfect day for the white cherry-printed sundress and denim jacket I wore with platform white sandals. My braids flowed freely around me under the cool breeze.

   When we walked into the building, I let out the breath I did not know I was holding in.

   “You okay?” Marie asked.

   “Yeah, why?” I replied.

   “Your heart rate picked up,” she observed.

    I paused and looked at her. “You can hear my heartbeat?”

   She nodded. “Sorry, I know that’s kind of weird.”    “Nothing’s weird at this school but, that’s good to know,” I assured.

   I made a mental note to be more intentional in meditation as I led Marie to Brink’s office. The Lamplighter building was practically empty since most students were sleeping off hangovers. However, Jordan Li wasn’t most students and was at their usual post, the desk outside of Brink’s office, eyes focused on their laptop. They were in their feminine form, hair slicked back in a low ponytail.

   A small smile etched its way on my glossed lips at the sight and I turned to Marie, whose eyes widened at Jordan.

  “Let me do the talking,” I whispered.

  “Sounds good,” she answered, nodding.

  As soon as we got in front of Jordan’s desk, I waved my hand in front of their face to no avail. With no choice, I grinned as I slammed my hands on the desk and called their name. Immediately, Jordan jumped in their seat, yanking their earbuds out as they exclaimed an expletive.

    I laughed as they rolled their eyes at me.

   “Seriously, freshie?” Jordan commented.

   “You can’t call me that anymore, I’m a sophomore,” I sang.

   “It doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Jordan teased.

    My cheeks warmed at their words and I gripped my Longchamp tote closer to me in an attempt to get a grip on myself.

   “By the way, I loved your little dance from last night,” Jordan added.

   “You saw that?” I rasped.

   “Rushtok is so big that no one can escape it.” Jordan glanced at their laptop. “You’re early, as usual.”

   “I like to be punctual but, I also have someone who might be your new favorite freshman,” I replied.

    “Impossible,” Jordan scoffed.

     I nodded to Marie, who slowly moved to stand next to me. “This is Marie Moreau. Marie, this is Jordan Li, Brink’s TA.”

    Jordan glanced at Marie, a smirk disappearing from their face. “Hi.”

    “Hi, it’s so nice to meet you. You’re so awesome; your powers are incredible,” Marie confessed.

    Jordan smirked. “I’m glad I impressed a freshman.”

    Marie looked taken aback and glanced at me.

   “I brought Marie with me since there’s been a mix-up. She applied for Crimefighting but she’s in all the performing arts classes. So, I was thinking that you’d be able to help,” I explained.

    Jordan looked back at their laptop and started typing again. “I know, I’m the one who rejected her.”

   Their words hung in the air and I could feel a lump starting to form in my throat. As smart as Jordan was, they were either unaware of how deeply their bluntness could cut or they did not care. After knowing them for a year, I began to lean toward the latter.

   “What?” Marie muttered.

   “Why?” I questioned.

   “She has no social media presence and, even though her scores are decent, she needs a following,” Jordan rattled.

   “Isn’t that a little biased? Do you know what her powers are? If you knew, I think you would be open to making an exception,” I argued gently. “Besides, she can still get a following online. With her face, it will take no time.”

    As soon as the comment left my mouth, I froze. I had no idea why I said that, maybe Emma’s tendencies had rubbed off on me.

    “Sorry, the decision’s final.” Jordan did not sound apologetic at all and I thought I saw them trying not to smirk again.

   “You can’t do that. Let me talk to Professor Brink,” Marie requested.

  “There’s no point, he leaves all admission decisions to me,” Jordan said. “You should learn from your friend. Y/N here has ten million followers across her social media and solved the Glasgow Ripper case and a twenty-year-old cold case before she got here.”

   Marie whirled around to me. “You solved the Glasgow Ripper case?”

   “I just gave them a tip and it was supposed to be anonymous,” I muttered.

    “Nothing is anonymous with Vought,” Jordan countered. “Plus, you led them to key evidence.”

    “They would have solved it…eventually,” I admitted.

   Based on my original estimate, it would have taken them three years and I always felt horrible whenever they showed the victims’ families on the news. The tension in the space was thick as Jordan and Marie glared at each other. I wracked my brain for something, anything to say.

   Fortunately, Brink took care of the tension when he burst out of his office, gun in hand, and shot at Jordan. Marie yelped as Jordan switched to their male form and absorbed the shot.

   “Wow, every time,” Brink admired.

   “If you keep it up, I’m going to run out of shirts, sir,” Jordan replied, smiling.

    Brink turned to Marie and me. “Oh, Y/N, you’re here, early as always.”

    “Hi, Professor Brink. How was your summer?” I asked.

    “Busy. And yours?”

    “Good. Um, Professor, I don’t want to take too much of your time, but this is Marie Moreau and there was a mix-up with her schedule,” I started.

    Professor Brink nodded and turned to Marie. “Is that so?”

    Marie quickly explained the dilemma, narrowing her eyes at Jordan but was able to stay as calm and professional as possible. I glanced at Professor Brink’s expression and while he looked pleasant, I dreaded his words.

   “Well, if Jordan rejected you, that’s final. I trust their judgment,” Professor Brink affirmed. “You can serve as a hero in many ways; Crimefighting is a select group of students who show high aptitude in several areas. That does not mean anyone else is less valuable. Maybe we will see you on Dancing with the Stars one day.”

   Marie’s face fell and her body tensed. I might have started crying if I was in her position but her eyes stayed dry. I gently put my hand on her shoulder.

   “We’ll figure something out,” I muttered.

   She did not look convinced and as I politely followed Brink into his office, I prayed that I would get some sort of helpful premonition. Then again, why did I want to help this girl? I knew her for less than twenty-four hours. Nothing was making sense.

    Later that day, I practically ran a hole into my bedroom floor as I ruminated over my next steps. My meeting with Brink was unremarkable and I couldn’t stop thinking about how to get Marie into crim. She was obviously a strong hero in the works, even if Jordan didn’t see it. One way to help would be to get her into a decent house on campus since that was one of the only viable routes outside of making it into the Top 100 to get noticed on campus. However, Marie did not strike me as the sorority type.

    Then again, I could help her with donors at fundraisers since they loved throwing their money to make themselves feel better. As I thought, my mind somehow circled back to Jordan. It was fun getting a rise out of them after everything last year. They were not as rude to me as they were to Marie, but they were still terrifying last year. They always had a critique for someone and had reduced numerous kids to tears before the first semester ended. Somehow, I impressed them last year and they started being nicer to me. It probably also did not hurt that I had befriended Cate.

    “Ugh, it’s hopeless!” I huffed, plopping onto my bed.

    Even when I tried to get premonitions, there was nothing helpful; just Jordan and Marie arguing while I attempted to settle things.

    What was this year turning into?

      My phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts, and I answered without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

    “Do you have any rush shit tonight?” Cate asked.

    I sat up and eyed her in the video call. “No, all the presidents and VPs are meeting tonight so we’re on our own.”

   “Great, so you’re free to go out with us,” Cate concluded with a grin.

  My heartbeat picked up at the thought of going out with Cate and the others. Any time I went out with them always ended in an interesting story, from the time Cate got us all out of a really embarrassing ticket to the time Andre and Luke drunkenly dueted “Never Gonna Give You Up” in a Korean karaoke bar.

  “I know that face, you’re thinking too much,” Cate warned.

  “Not in a bad way, in a good way. Where are we going?”

  “Don’t worry, just wear something hot and meet us in the parking lot at ten.”

  “Okay.”

  I hung up and set the phone on my dresser. Maybe this would help me clear my head or get me out of my head. Sometimes the thoughts could be suffocating but I would get a break tonight. I closed my eyes and wondered what would happen tonight. Slowly, clear images of a dark club and the sound of a thumping bass flooded my mind. The club was crowded but I saw myself dancing with Cate and…Marie?

[n30n-ang3l]

I finished Gen V Episode 1-3 and I just wanna say that both Emma and Jordan need to survive the superhero corporate world of The Boys. They deserve a happy fucking ending okay!!!

[mariejordans]

SUPER/SOCIAL ; a gen v instagram au

SUMMARY ; an alternate universe where the woods doesn't exist, god u isn't a scam, and the only things our heroes have to worry about are essays, exams, and how to survive college as young adults with superpowers.

INTRODUCING...JORDAN LI (jorjorlinks), senior crime-fighting major at godolkin university. currently ranked #2, jordan is in a constant back and forth with current #1, marie moreau, in the rankings. HUGE star wars and comic book nerd, guitar-player who rarely plays (unless it’s for a certain brown eyed sophomore) and lover of recreational drugs. best friend and roommate of cate dunlap; also best friends with andre anderson, luke riordan, and sam riordan, “besties in law” with emma meyer. currently dating marie moreau.

INSTA PROFILES (more coming soon...): marie. | emma. | cate. | andre. | luke. | sam.

[gloomth-and-wanderings]

"A handwritten label is pinned to the waistcoat which reads: 'This waistcoat was given by Sir Douglas Seton Stewart to Emma Lady Seton ....(and) was one made for the Eglinton Tournament'. The pattern repeat incorporating flags, a pavilion-style tent and mounted knights charging with lances suggests that it has associations with the event and 19th-century chivalry. The motifs are very similar to those seen on prints depicting the Eglinton Tournament." (From the V&A description)

This is a fantastic waistcoat originally made for the Eglinton Tournament of 1839, a lush historical reenactment of Merrie Olde Englande. Inspired by Tudor and Elizabethan knightly jousts, but also the historical novels in vogue, it was a multi-day extravaganza held at Eglinton Castle in Scotland with a few dozen knights and a hundred thousand spectators, many in fancy dress.

This waistcoat was probably sold as a souvenir of the tournament. Aspects of historicism are present not only in the fabric but also the construction; the lapel is sewn on, but it closes with covered buttons off center rather than with a more open front, possibly in reference to a doublet.

It can be seen from the surviving engravings that though there were attempts at historical accuracy, they often mixed centuries and countries, and were distinctly late-1830s flavoured.

The Tournament was a reaction to the modernizing world and removal of many old royal ceremonies, but also was seen by some as a lavish waste of money in a time of widespread poverty. Though tickets were free and distributed to any who wanted them, it was a particularly aristocratic event; participants had to supply costumes and armor, and to have enough money to buy antique armor or to have a family suit of armor would require a great deal of money and/or an old family.

There were a few accounts of the tournament printed: a short description, a longer description with an account of the history of chivalry, a very detailed description, and a massive tome which also took the task of the origin of all social ranks which also has a lot of it narrated by the ghosts of King James VI and Sir David Lindsay, and an absolutely wild amount of stuff in it.

Happy 1830s Thursday!

[justarandombrit]

I did the thing again. If you missed the livestream but want to know what happened, I wrote down some notes again. (Spoiler warning, obviously, as I will mention who won the death match)

. The Nightmare Time theme is so fucking good

. Xander murdered Grace last death match and won

. James and Matt like wrestling (not each other - the sport)

. BOTTLE IMPS!!!!!!!!!!!!

. WORKIN BOYS GETS RELEASED ON YOUTUBE AT 425,000

. Lmao the backing music is Jane's A Car

. We are the Lords In Black

. HARMONY AND BARRY!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HARMONY SO MUCH

. Ted and Hidgens are a duo lmaoooooo

. Melissa and w o m a n

. Mariah really loved w o m a n

. CCRP set up a water filtration system that pissed people off

. USE IT OR LOSE IT

. Harmony and Barry are just so annoying that Paul and Emma want to fight them

. Paul is the first to die

. Coffee makes Barry stronger

. Jon is the only one who thought Paulkins would win

. Rip Harmony :(

. Paul throws spare change at Harmony and Barry, summoning the Homeless Man, who wins the fight for them

. Bill and Alice get an easybake oven stolen from them by Sherman

. Love Vs Crazy

. Frank and Bill get mistaken for eachother mid-fight

. Sherman is vicious

. Frank wants Sherman to die

. Alice eats Sherman's soul and becomes a little kid again

. Ruth has a crush on Hidgens

. Ted and Hidgens have a dead body???????

. The dead body is a Frankenstein amalgamation of all the Workin Boys

. Frankenruth?????????

. RICHIE HAS THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON HIS SIDE

. Ted and Hidgens win with help from the Workin Boy

. “w o m a n is here!”

“I'm fucking here, bitches”

. Shapiro + Bailey are looking for Roman

. Dog…

. Oh no

. Roman is the dog.

. Melissa and w o m a n die

. MISS HOLLOWEEN!!!!!!!

. Bottle Imps was supposed to be between Forever and Always and Time Bastard

. Bill meets the founder of CCRP

. CHARLES IS IN IT

. CHARLES FOUNDED CCRP

. HARVARD LAW SCHOOL COMMUNITY ORGANISING PRICK?!?!?!?!?

. HOWIE?!?!?!?!?!?

. Bill's been at CCRP 13 years

. Coven’s Communication Research and Power

. Charles wants… ALL the money

. If it's actually Billted oh my god…

. Jane didn't die, but their dog did so she divorced him

. THEY'VE COVERED THE PROTESTS LIVE AT THE HATCHETFIELD KENNEL

. THE PROBLEMATIC PUPPY BIT SOLOMON LAUTER

. DONNA WANTS THE DOG TO DIE

. THE DOG IS IN THE CAR

. THE DOG CAR RUNS OVER DAN AND DONNA

. GOT MY PAW ON THE GAS

. Everyone is cheating on each other

. Ethan used to bully Pete

. Pete and Steph don't tip

. Lex flips out

. Lex suddenly develops a gluten intolerance????

. Jason and Kyle save Steph and Pete

. Max breaks into Camp Idontwannabang, Grace reads him Bible stories, they're about to kiss, then Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri burst in to kill them

. Grace is so Jesus loving that Lumberaxe kills the Jerries

. MISS HOLLOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN

. Excorcism???

. “Christ’s in hell with your mother”

Riley

. Miss Holloway has a witch hat!!!!!

. Evil mask??

. Riley's in hell smh

. “You basic bitch”

. MISS HOLLOWAY THROWS HERSELF INTO A WOOD CHIPPER

. Joey is Ted again

. YELLOW JACKET

. Alice and Bill get pissed about Paulkins trash talking Mamma Mia

. Joey: “This is the future the libs want”

. General MacNamara drops in from a helicopter and shoots Bill and Alice in the head

. James will murder Paul and Emma himself if they survive again

. Ted accidentally confesses to murdering Ruth and Richie

. Joey: “Here's the thing, ACAB”

. Thrash murders Shapiro for being a cop lmaooooooo

. Sam’s a dick to Tim at Pizza Pete’s

. Hannah straight up murders Charlotte and Sam

. I have to go to bed :( (Stopped right before Holyghost v Lautity)

. I'm baaaa-aaaaaack! It's the next day, I have pancakes, and I'm just realising I accidentally wrote Lautity instead of Lautski… I just love them too much

. I haven't checked Tumblr cause I don't want to be spoiled for who wins

. OH SHIT WORKIN BOYS IS ON YOUTUBE

. I'm back on the livestream, I'll check that out later

. They're at Perky's Buds, Grace has dragged Max there for a protest, Steph dragged Pete there for weed

. Grace wants Steph to go to heaven

. Five minutes for A THOUSAND DOLLARS?!?!?!?

. THEY DID IT IN ONE MINUTE

. Joey: “You horny little fucks”

. Max just murders Steph and Pete

. Max wouldn't want to hit a girl, Ziggs comes out, fails to land a single shot on them, but attracts the nighthawks which peck out Steph and Pete’s eyes

. Nicole Rodriguez is so fucking talented damnnnnnnnn, also I love Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise)

. This song will always destroy me emotionally :(

. Why is Joey doing a British accent lmaoooo

. This isn't the next scene, but is after it chronologically

. BRENDA!!!!!!!!!!

. BRENDA WORKS AT MISS RETRO'S

. If only it was a real werewolf… Wayward Guide, anyone?

. “Shit-eating grin” is my favourite Americanism. It's so funny I love it

. I kinda love Tucker

. More skidoos???

. Kyle's in college?????????????? Damn

. Even Stacy's in college

. Miss Holloway: “Cause the 80’s were bitchin’ ”

. Oh nooooo :(

. Miss Holloway: “The intranet”

. Oh god

. Oh shit

. Oh fuck

. Even though I knew this was going to happen I'm still devastated

. Oh god :((((((((

. God we need NMT3

. Joey: “Is this a bad time to announce Curt and Kim are getting divorced?”

. VIRGINITY ROCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

. Tedgens are stealing from CCRP, Paulkins are about to go on a date, they find them, and Hidgens goes all murder-crazy

. Corey: “Some of us are wrong and many of us are right”

. Joey: “Jon, Ted is gooning all over this office”

. Jon: “Great job everybody, all the food is gonna be poisoned next week”

. Goddamnit I just got spoiled for it :(

. Tedgens manage to find the Bastard's Box and trap Paul and Emma in it

. Hidgens hears Workin Boys coming from the box, but Ted stops him from touching it

. Tom and Becky want to buy the Waylon Place, and find Grace and Max burying Pete and Steph

. Tom coaches the Hatchetfield Nighthawks??????????

. Gen Z Vs Millennials

. Someone pulled $800 from the Kickstarter :(

. Will arrived literally as soon as Max died

. Grace and Max are ghosts now

. Meg Lloyd is also insanely talented

. Will loves Tom and Becky

. Sauce Saturday

. RUN AWAY WITH MEEEEEEE

. They're in the Starlight theatre, Wilbur is there for some reason

. “He was driving the car that killed your dog”

. NOOOOOOO JENNY

. LAUREN!!!!!

. Wilbur just straight up cheats so Tedgens win

. OHHHHHHH TED VS HIDGENS

. Ted always dies though :/

. A girl Miss Holloway saved has died

. MISS HOLLOWAY IS RENEGOTIATING HER DEAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

. Lore….

. Miss Holloway chops off her toes?????

. AND DIPS THEM IN CHOCOLATE?????????

. AN OLD POP STAR THE WORLD’S FORGOTTEN

. That's what that tune is called?

. OH MY GOD THE LORDS

. I NEED TO DRAW THIS

. Why do the Lords eat toes

. Blinky has a mouth???????

. Nibbly lmao

. Mariah: “Lauren, you're muted, baby”

Lauren (muted): “FUCK”

. Blinky, my love

. This is so fanfiction coded I love it

. Tinky likes Miss Holloway????? Duke really was right about everyone being in love with her

. I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY

. Lmao Tinky

. Double calculators, and an abacus????

. Blinky (covering his ears): That's a bad word!

. BLINKY HAS EARS??????

. HER NAME

. BE A PALLY WAL

. OH MY GOD MISS HOLLOWAY

. Ted wins!!!

. THEY'RE GONNA DO DND

. Well.

. Nightmare Time Cover!!!!!!!! Needy Beast, my love

. Oh god that was amazing

[littlebitsmile]

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter V

This is it, finally. With this chapter, we kick off the 2024 season and Emma takes part in her first official F1 race in Bahrain. I'm really excited about going forward with this, hopefully you are too.

Enjoy this chapter, breathe it in, feel it in your heart xx

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R V ɞ────

"How exactly does this work here?" I ask, while two screens of light shine directly into my face and three or four cameras are pointed at me. A makeup artist is just powdering the last of the anxious sweat on my forehead dry, and a young man is sitting opposite me with a script in his hand. Probably the same one that was sent to me two weeks ago.

"You introduce yourself with your name, which team you drive for, and then I'll ask you a few questions. Easy cheesy lemon squeezy," he replies without looking up from his script.

I can't deny that I'm afraid of messing something up. I still regularly attend the social media training sessions run by Aston Martin's PR department, but Netflix's Drive to Survive team is probably in a whole different league. At least most of the drivers have already warned me about it.

Someone shouts "30 seconds," and suddenly the room empties. The lights are still blinding, and apart from the camera lenses and three-quarters of the interviewer's face, I can't really see much. Just a dark room, almost as if I were the suspect in a murder case and was being questioned - creepy.

I'm handed a film flap with my name, my team, and "Take 1" written on it. I hold it up in front of me and wait for the interviewer's hand signal.

"Hi!" I wave at the camera. "My name is Emma Verstappen, I'm turning 21 this year, and I'm driving for Aston Martin as a rookie in my first Formula 1 season."

"Cut!" A little bit of shuffling around echoes through the room. "That's great, Emma. You're doing good!"

"Thanks, I'm trying my best. Do you need that again or...?" My voice goes up half an octave towards the end of the sentence, unintentionally.

"Ah, no, thanks! But you can answer a question for me directly! How does it feel to sit in this chair?"

"Honestly, like I've been accused." I laugh nervously into the camera. A montage of the last six seasons of the show plays in my mind's eye - almost as if my brain is warning me not to say the wrong thing or get emotional.

"Don't worry, the jury found not guilty. For now, at least." A brief pause as he flicks through his question pad and finally stops at a page. "Emma, when you think about the coming year, what do you feel?"

"You're not the first to ask me that, what do you think my answer will be?" I raise my eyebrows. After his interview, Max gave me the advice to be as detached as possible. Don't stir up drama. Don't take shots at other drivers. Then I take two breaths and continue: "This is a huge year, not only for me, but also for my team. Aston Martin has made a huge bet by putting me in one of their cockpits. But I have no intention of making them regret it."

"Completely understandable! Do you feel comfortable in your team? It was actually very surprising that you didn't end up with your brother's team, Oracle Red Bull Racing! Would you like to tell us briefly how that came about?"

"Well, you probably all know Max, and you don't know me, but let me tell you, even though I love him and he's my brother... we would need some more time to get acquainted with the feeling of being stuck in a team together. Our mom could tell you that as well - everywhere Max and I are involved, there is trouble to follow." I answer honestly. What I don't say is that Max didn't speak to me for a week and a half after I turned down Red Bull's offer to be a test driver for this season. That I had to explain to him almost every hour why the match with Fernando Alonso works better for me at the moment and that later, after I've proven myself, we can drive together until we're old and gray.

"Emma? Are you still there?" The interviewer waves his hand vigorously in front of my face. I apologize and ask him to repeat the question.

"As you know, some contracts are coming to an end this year, and that's why there are a few places with big teams that have been in high demand for years. With Lewis moving from Mercedes to Ferrari and some contracts expiring, for example, Sergio Perez at Red Bull - are you speculating on one of them?"

I have to think for a moment, do some soul-searching. Do I even want to join a big team? Is "Formula 1 World Champion" at the top of my list of dreams? Then I answer: "As a driver, every week you're fighting for your seat, especially this season. It's no longer about where I stand in the world rankings, but rather about the potential I bring with me. I am convinced that I will find my way - regardless of my brother, Red Bull, or anyone else. Where this path will ultimately take me... I don't think anyone really knows."

-

"Two more laps, Emma," Sarah orders over the team radio. She still doesn't speak much, but at least the radio communication works well. Will I ever have as much fun with her as I did with Enzo? Probably not.

"Copy."

I say copy, but what I really mean is I hate you. Forty-five laps under the desert sun of Bahrain, drops of sweat evaporating in my racesuit and making the fabric stick to my skin. I've been trying to suppress my thirst for half an eternity. At least the heat is now my only problem. During the first few test laps, I had to mentally remind myself several times that throwing up in a new car doesn't make a good impression - especially not on the official first day of work. That moment when you're standing at the end of the pit lane waiting to get the final go. In the first corners while hitting the brakes for the first time, my head got put back against the headrest, body compressed. It felt like my heart was going to give up at any moment.

Pre-season testing is the first chance to see if what my team spent the whole year designing is actually going to work. So far, the car feels great - a few comments here and there about oversteer, the right braking behavior, and the optimal line, but at least I'm not a total failure. At least, I hope I'm not.

Fernando has already completed laps in the three-digit range yesterday and this morning combined. I happen to be put in the same test window as Max. I didn't think long about whether this was perhaps intentional, so that we could compare ourselves better, but after the first few laps, the thought crept into my head and wouldn't let go.

As I return to the pit lane faster than expected and the engineering team pushes the car and me back into the garage, I realize that I'm still holding my breath. I take off the steering wheel, release the headrest, and squeeze out of the tight seat. A few mechanics murmur "Good job!" or pat me on the back, but no one says a word. I exhale. Then I look at the car again. Standing right in front of it while the green of the bodywork hits me - an indescribable feeling.

"You know I'm your biggest critic, but that was a good performance today. We can work with that," says Sarah as she comes to a halt next to me and compares graphs on her clipboard. She looks at me from the side, then glances at the car and back at me. "This is your car, you better believe it."

I laugh and nod. "Thank you, Sarah. I don't think that was such a bad practice. There's still plenty to do." As I start to speak, I take off my helmet, finally remove the hearing protection from my other ear, and walk towards my cabin in the back of the garage. Sarah is hot on my heels. "I feel like I have to turn the steering wheel a bit more on the right-hand bends... but maybe it's just because the right-hand bends are a bit faster than I originally thought. I don't feel the headwind as much as I did in the wind tunnel, you can really feel the aerodynamic adjustments on the sides straight away. Do you think I can do one or two laps, just running around the track tomorrow before the start of training? I feel like I don't have every corner completely under control yet and..."

"Emma," Sarah tries to interrupt me, but I keep talking. Unlike me, she is at a loss for words and never let me finish my thoughts during our first few weeks. But this is about our car, about the points, about moving forward and not standing still. I carry on talking impartially.

"...maybe I can have a quick word with Fernando tomorrow? I'd like the front end to be a little sharper, at the moment we still have a lot of leeway - only if it's okay with him."

"Emma."

"Hm?" Now I'm paying attention.

"You're in fifth place at the moment."

"Wow, I didn't think so. That's good news, isn't it?"

"Max is in P6," she says slowly, smiles and then leaves me standing alone in the corridor. My water bottle almost falls out of my hand. I turn around quickly and call after her.

"Hey! You can't just say something like that and then disappear," but she's already around the corner and isn't paying any more attention to me. Has she just smiled for the first time since I met her? And that makes me almost more nervous than the fact that I have beaten my brother for the first time.

-

I'm not that lucky over the next few days of pre-season testing. But the high from my first day of practice on the track carries me through the week like clouds, before we even get to the first three free practices. I stay in the top 10 during the practice sessions that are part of the race weekend, but I seem to have completely lost my groove in qualifying. Starting from 12th on the grid, neither I nor my team are particularly enthusiastic about my performance, and this contributes to the fact that I don't get much sleep the night before the actual race.

I also have to attend several photo shoots in between - not just from my own team but also the official ones. For the first time, I get placed in an all-male field of riders, which is why I am allowed to stand in the middle of the so-called "class of 2024"-picture this year. That is more than awkward for me, but in that respect I will probably have to get used to not being allowed to have a say. On this occasion, I also try to spend more time with my brother, firstly to get some first hand insider advice and secondly to get to know the people he gets on well with.

Carlos Sainz, who tried to persuade me at all costs to go and celebrate with the group before my first race - as a season opener – immediately melts my heart. When I thankfully declined, he laughed and told me not to worry so much - after all, the Verstappen gene is in me too. I didn't mention that I wasn't so sure about that. At the same time, I wish him all the luck in the world - after all, he is currently without a seat for 2025. Secretly, I hope that he achieves better results than Charles, but of course I'm not allowed to say that out loud.

I also have time for a game of paddle tennis with Max, Fernando, Lando Norris, and Daniel Ricciardo - none of them seem to care that I've never held a tennis racket in my life, let alone a paddle tennis racket. On the contrary, each of them patiently explains their way of playing to me, until at some point I'm sure that each of them has at least slipped me some false information so that I don't turn out to be a sudden natural talent.

Unfortunately, all these distractions have not helped to reduce the pressure. The pressure from my father, who follows every Instagram post with excitement and then asks me whether I can really afford to play paddle tennis with Max and whether he missed the fact that I already have a World Drivers' Champions title in my pocket, which would explain why I would think that some free time is something I am allowed to have. The pressure from my team, whose hopes are mainly pinned on Fernando, but a driver duo consists of two people and not everyone is convinced that this is the right place for me. So I continue to sleep uneasily.

-

Before the race starts, I march up and down in the garage with a pulse of just under 130. Outside, I see fans running past, taking their seats, while the structure of the course burns in a continuous loop in my mind. It feels like I remind myself every five minutes that I shouldn't pick at my fingernails and instead find my focus. Max wished me good luck as I left the hotel, and he meant it, but that's easy to say when you start from pole position and have literally nothing to loose.

I overhear Sarah being interviewed somewhere, but unfortunately, I can't quite make out who it is from the voice. The walls here are so thin that I can hear every little movement of the technicians on the car, so I'm not surprised that I overhear conversations that aren't really meant for my ears. Only the interviewer's question burns itself into my head: Do you think you put too much faith in someone who is still so young?

I immediately shake my head, grab my helmet and water bottle, and make my way to my car. There I high-five one or two mechanics and then squeeze into the seat of my car. The cable for the radio connection on my left shoulder is connected to the car, someone plugs in my steering wheel, and the crew slowly removes the heaters from the tires. I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel, squeeze harder, and then let go again. Sitting here feels right, just like the pedals under the soles of my feet and the muffled sounds that can’t quite reach my ears. I try to find my focus and go over the route again in my head. Too much faith in someone who is still so young. The colleague in front of my car gives me the signal to rev the engine and drive out of the garage. Then I'm pushed to the starting grid.

The next few minutes fly by. The impressions of the last few days, the ups and downs, the conversations with other drivers, but also the phone calls with my father and his criticism - everything is buzzing around in my head without having an outlet for it. My body is tense at every turn and I'm literally clutching the piece of metal between my hands. I keep counting to ten in my head and tell myself that everything will be fine, no matter where I end up today - at least that's what I try to tell myself.

The signal is given for the last call to leave the start area. I get some last looks before my team makes its way towards the pit lane.

"Let's go, Emma," says Sarah through the microphone. I nod, even though I'm aware that she can't see me. My brain empties completely during the warm-up lap. Quicker than I'd like, I'm back in my starting position and looking towards the traffic lights. I feel nothing, think nothing. This is the first race of the season and nothing has been won or lost yet. All the cards have been reshuffled and we can only really say how the cars will actually perform afterward. The first lights turn red. Red. Red. Red. Red. And then the lights go out, and my foot presses down on the gas pedal. This is the official start of the 2024 season.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Chapter IV] [Chapter VI (in progress)] ɞ────

Tags: @cmleitora @alliwantisadonut

[barrenstars]

❛ do you trust me? ❜ // hanma to emma

@sociieties / angsty question prompts.

the large plank of wood slips from her grip and hits the ground with a gentle 'thud', and her chin drops even further. what the fuck? emma stands there, stanced up, ready to bite, claw, dangle from his neck like a chihuahua if he attacked because now she knows to expect it. and she can see him. no drive-by attacks, no sneak attack, nothing. only, the words that slip by his lips leave her completely dumbfounded. kisaki could have come up behind her, slit her throat, pull a plastic bag over her head and she'd just stand there and let him, that was how surprised she was. too bad kisaki was dead, huh. mustard hues blink several times in attempts to get the cogs turning once again, but nothing coherent comes to mind. ❝ oh my fuckin' god, ❞ the sano eventually mutters, moving to stand up straight after determining he was being completely serious.

emma didn't know this guy very well, she's only seen him a few times around the city, a few times in the gang, and his name floated around for a while. hanma shuji, or something like that. she knows draken doesn't like him, he's fought him a few times. but standing here, before him, after what he did? what he helped kisaki do? for some reason she just wants to burst into laughter, but also scream. and also tackle the big idiot and rip the flesh off his body.

❝ you're, like, totally batshit insane, ❞ part of her can't believe the question he's asked, but another part of her can. she's been surrounded by insanity for a good while now. ❝ i thought kazutora was bad, you know, because he killed my older brother then tried to fucking kill the other one - but you - you take the cake. ❞ there's just no way this guy can be serious... surely not? was he trying to intimidate her? maybe he wanted her to make a statement to the police and help him out, given the fact he was a wanted fugitive.

backing up a few steps, emma grips her bag and furrows her brows. ❝ if i were you i'd look into getting a therapist, you're clearly a fruit loop. ❞ a therapist or even just giving up and going to jail - just going somewhere no sane person would need to come across him. ❝ never talk to me again! or i'll call the cops and tell them where you are. ❞

[ellestra]

Going in circles

There has been a lot of talk about how Gen V is about social media and stage parents but the underlying theme of this season is the cycle of violence that leads to abuse and revenge cycles. It's a positive feedback loop that makes .

Since Gen V is inspired by The Boys comic arc that was a parody of X-Men this is something that was, of course, always staple of X-Men comics/movies/shows. But X-Men stories in their core tend to be optimistic/aspirational. The Boys universe is much more cynical than that. In the end bad guys win or they at least spin their loses their way so they can hold on to power.

Marie, Jordan, Andre and Emma really believed in the ideas sold to them by the marketing team. But the humans they were trying to save were exactly the ones who never treated them to people. Ones who perpetuated the cycles f abuse - from the moment they were given Compound V to all the stages of deciding who is and isn't valuable. They aren't the ones who lead Vought when it all started but they do the same thing again and again because it's profitable. And when it comes to bite them they try to weasel their way out of any responsibility by appealing to the better nature of those who they abused. And so, so many real life abuses seem to use this to escape culpability. Using the "be better than those who wrong you" as the most cynical way to save their own asses.

It doesn't mean that the rest of the non-powered humans don't have a reason to blame supes. Both the Boys and Shetty are not wrong in the assessment that supes always will a leave a trail of blood behind them - both intentional and accidental. From powers manifesting in the disastrous way, through accidents while using them to abuses of power to avoid consequences and finally malice. Supes are human and do exactly the same things but their impact is so much greater and so is their body count. It's gets horrifying because she's not blaming Vought who created this whole problem. Instead she's uses Vought's own torture factory to try her hand at genocide. It's hard to really feel bad about Cardosa and Shetty's death when we just saw them killing some kids in even more horrible way.

Cate was betrayed by every human she trusted. And the worst was that even though Shetty loved her she still drugged her to dampen her powers (those blue pills reference even more clear after latest Matrix movie) and then used her to help with genocide of her own kind. So she gathers all other abused supes and they all go on a rampage because how you can ever trust any one of them if they even corrupt love like that. Being one of "the good ones" didn't really work out. And because this is the time where the ultimate power of Vought propaganda machine lies with a supe it's all swept under the rug by Homelander.

He's done appealing to mudnon-powered people . The one place X-Men doesn't really go in stories like that is the people who go against their own interests because the ideology allows them to feel superior to another group. And they think they'd be spared. It's the voting for Leopards Eating People's Faces Party all over again. Homelander knows now that there are humans who still will follow him (steeped in American exceptionalism and dreams of ubermensch as he is - BTW I don't think it's a coincidence that both Cate and Sam are the kind of Guardians of Godolkin Stormfront would approve of unlike original versions). He just needs supes who think the same as him instead of believing things like non-powered humans are human too. Someone who is not going to bulk at thing he wants to do.

And the boys would do anything to stop him. I'm pretty sure the virus is not out of the picture yet. Between Neumann container and Butcher finding the infected bodies there still might be attempt to use it. After all it's still in pre fully genocidal form. And Marie surviving Homelander's blast may have taught Neumann she might have enough time to pop Homelander's head - especially if he's a bit sick.

In this cycle people who try to stop it are also part of the problem. It too often leads to letting those in power stay in power so the injustices can carry on. Marie uses the system that was designed against her to stop the massacre and it hurts her too. Andre risks brain damage saving helicopter coming to rescue Vought Board. Jordan almost gets overwhelmed and mind controlled protecting them. And Vought will continue doing what they did to babies and any supe they deem faulty product. Believing the heroes will come and save them gets them locked in a doorless room.

We see how appealing to their opponents better nature doesn't work. Maverick cannot break mind control. Sam chose it over conscience. All Emma gets for trying is being made to feel small.

In the end all trying to be heroic got them is being labelled as traitor and scapegoated. And I don't think it's an accident that of this group only Emma is white (although it's nice that the only couple that survived this in neither includes white people nor is straight).

And so the cycle goes. Non-powered humans abuse supes and supes abuse those humans and each sides has a list of atrocities perpetrated on them they use to justify to atrocities they commit. While the people who caused and profit from it this stay in power.

This is even made even more relevant by real life events reminding us about the real, horrible human toll of such cycles hatred. The real excuses that are used to justify violence against innocents by feeding populations a revenge fantasy dressed as justice aren't all that different. And so isn't using it to keep power and gather more assets. But in stories we can hope good guys will eventually win. History teaches us that, in real life, it always ends with those having power behind them getting all the spoils. Everyone can count themselves lucky if they get a half-assed apology too late to count for anything.

[deargodsno]

Experts have recreated the oldest-known piece of tartan ever found, which was discovered in a peat bog after being buried for centuries. The tartan was discovered around 40 years ago in the bog in Glen Affric in the Highlands, and underwent rigorous testing by the Scottish Tartans Authority last year to confirm it was the oldest surviving piece of tartan. The Glen Affric Tartan dates from 1500-1600 AD and went on to be exhibited at the V&A Dundee. Manufacturer and distributor of tartan fabrics, the House of Edgar, recreated the tartan under the guidance of tartan historian Peter Macdonald to recreate the Glen Affric for people to wear. It features the colours that dye analysis of the original tartan had confirmed – this included the use of green, yellow and red, which would have come from woad or indigo to create the green along with other natural dyes. This, along with the determined thread count, helped The House of Edgar bring this piece of Scottish history back to life. Emma Wilkinson, the designer for House of Edgar who worked on the project, commented: “I create new tartans every day but this project is truly special – a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to recreate a piece of history. “Tartan is such an iconic piece of Scotland’s identity and it has been a true pleasure to see this fabric come back to life to be enjoyed for generations to come.”

[jonasgoonface]

Happy anniversary of Willem Van Spronsen's attack on the Tacoma ICE detention center. Here's a thing I drew a while back. Here's a manifesto that he wrote, it's v good. ------

What follows is the written manifesto of Willem Van Spronsen:

there's wrong and there's right. it's time to take action against the forces of evil. evil says one life is worth less than another. evil says the flow of commerce is our purpose here. evil says concentration camps for folks deemed lesser are necessary. the handmaid of evil says the concentration camps should be more humane. beware the centrist.

i have a father's broken heart i have a broken down body and i have an unshakable abhorrence of injustice. that is what brings me here. this is my clear opportunity to try to make a difference, i'd be an ingrate to be waiting for a more obvious invitation.

i follow three teachers: don pritts, my spiritual guide, "love without action is just a word." john brown, my moral guide, "what is needed is action!" emma goldman, my political guide, "if i can't dance, i don't want to be in your revolution."

i'm a head in the clouds dreamer, i believe in love and redemption. i believe we're going to win i'm joyfully revolutionary. (we all should have been reading emma goldman in school instead of the jingo drivel we were fed. but i digress.) (we should all be looking at the photos of the YJP heroes should we falter and think our dreams are impossible, but i double digress. fight me.)

in these days of fascist hooligans preying on vulnerable people on our streets, in the name of the state or supported and defended by the state,

in these days of highly profitable detention/concentration camps and a battle over the semantics, in these days of hopelessness, empty pursuit and endless yearning,

we are living in visible fascism ascendant. (i say visible, because those paying attention watched it survive and thrive under the protection of the state for decades [see howard zinn, "a people's history of the united states.") now it unabashedly follows its agenda with open and full cooperation from the government. from governments around the world.

fascism serves the needs of the state serves the needs of business and at your expense. who benefits? jeff bezos, warren buffet, elon musk, tim cook, bill gates, betsy de vos, george soros, and need i go on? let me say it again: rich guys, (who think you're not really all that good,) really dig government, (every government everywhere, including "communist" governments,) because they make rules that make rich guys richer.

simple. don't overthink it.

(are you patriots in the back paying attention?)

when i was a boy, in post war holland, later france, my head was filled with stories of the rise of fascism in the 30's. i promised myself that i would not be one of those who stands by as neighbors are torn from their homes and imprisoned for somehow being perceived as lesser. you don't have to burn the motherfucker down, but are you just going to stand by?

this is the test of our fundamental belief in real freedom and our responsibility to each other. this is a call to patriots, too, to stand against this travesty against everything that you hold sacred. i know you. i know that in your hearts, you see the dishonor in these camps. it's time for you, too, to stand up to the money pulling the strings of every goddamn puppet pretending to represent us.

i'm a man who loves you all and this spinning ball so much that i'm going to fulfill my childhood promise to myself to be noble.

here it is, in these corporate for profit concentration camps. here it is, in brown and non conforming folks afraid to show their faces for fear of the police/migra/proud boys/the boss/beckies... here it is, a planet almost used up by the market's greed.

i'm a black and white thinker. detention camps are an abomination. i'm not standing by. i really shouldn't have to say any more than this.

i set aside my broken heart and i heal the only way i know how- by being useful. i efficiently compartmentalize my pain... and i joyfully go about this work. (to those burdened with the wreckage from my actions, i hope that you will make the best use of that burden.)

to my comrades:

i regret that i will miss the rest of the revolution. thank you for the honor of having me in your midst.

giving me space to be useful, to feel that i was fulfilling my ideals, has been the spiritual pinnacle of my life.

doing what i can to help defend my precious and wondrous people is an experience too rich to describe.

my trans comrades have transformed me, solidifying my conviction that we will be guided to a dreamed of future by those most marginalized among us today. i have dreamed it so clearly that i have no regret for not seeing how it turns out. thank you for bringing me so far along.

i am antifa, i stand with comrades around the world who act from the love of life in every permutation. comrades who understand that freedom means real freedom for all and a life worth living.

keep the faith! all power to the people! bella ciao

don't let your silly government agencies spend money "investigating" this one. i was radicalized in civics class at 13 when we were taught about the electoral college. it was at that point that i decided that the status quo might be a house of cards. further reading confirmed in the positive. i highly recommend reading! i am not affiliated with any organization, i have disaffiliated from any organizations who disagree with my choice of tactics. the semi automatic weapon i used was a cheap, home built unregistered "ghost" ar15, had six magazines. i strongly encourage comrades and incoming comrades to arm themselves. we are now responsible for defending people from the predatory state. ignore the laws of arming yourself if you have the luxury, i did.