#excerpts from messages i’ll never regret sending

[petitsdieu]

FIVE SONGS for your muse.

I have a semi-recent (seven) song list from another tagged meme thing here.

FIVE QUOTES for your muse.

((I don't have source material like movie or book quotes but I do have amazing writing partners (current or not ) that treat my muse like a canon and give me the most lovely written excerpts that could have been ripped right out of a book. If I searched more, I could have probably found more. But here are some of my favs. God bless you all.))

i.     (See the lamb’s flush betide her face; a bruise of muffled wanting.) (Behind Hara’s ear, hidden in her crown, is a softness kin to lambswool. She would hide it — bury it under garb and seam.) — written by @nightmarefuele

ii.   ( i hate how fuckin stubborn you are. it’s 5 am and i cant sleep and i’ll probably never send this but...) (...i think it’s because you’re scared. you’re fucking scared of someone knowing you so you go for the ones who just see you as a play thing and don’t want to know you and then you sit there with your fuck me eyes and act like none of us can see straight through your act. well i see you, hara ora, bright as fuckin day. you don’t fool me) — written by @drugstoreglitter

iii.     She was the damn antithesis of everything that he was: gentle, soft, good, perfect—he ought to have some guilt for wanting her this way, for knowing he was taking something far too fucking virtuous for a being such a malicious son of a bitch.  But he doesn’t care. That’s the problem. He wants her. Selfishly, without regret, and with absolute no remorse. It should be a blaring red alarm for her to be signaled to stay the hell away from him. Whether she’s naive, or hopeful, or misguided on who he is… he cannot bring himself to care. She accepts him. And for that, he would devour her.  — written by @godstrayed

iv.     "You’ve never been so lost, Hara. Have you? Ah, but you have. Only now you feel its full brunt, that it spreads over your mouth like the weeds — and in so suffocating, you turn to an inexplicable oppressor. To me. You’re not sure which I am: vulgar, or obscure. And that beguiles you. Revives you. You’ve been dead, ogled inside an old king’s birdcage, for so long…" — written by @nightmarefuele

v.   ...because it’s the energy she gives off, isn’t it, that, fuck me on speed kawaii angelic something that makes her head go all fucking spun, and yeah maybe hara’s less pastel pink and neon orange, but her existence looks streaked in glitter and glory and temporary flings and love and the way that something quick and easy can leave you feeling as if you were choking on the aftereffects of it, oh - it’s a hell of a lot, isn’t it. — written by @redemptioninterlude

vi.   Wants to feel his hands all over her ; wants to find salvation in the sweet flavour of her sugared lips . Would pull the wings off angels just to pull moans from the depths of her core . Almost forgot how pleasantly overwhelming it is to make love to her. — written by an old rp partner that's no longer around / blog gone.

vii.   Hara was obsessed with the idea of closing doors, of protecting what little she had of herself, for herself. And that was all fine and charming when you were on the outside, clamouring for an idea, a taste, of just what made that magic woman come to life. But in the reality, it was mud and sticks and stones that bore her, and inside, she sensed a deep emptiness… the way that she pushed people away, and howled at the proverbial moon, all the messages that she’d ever need to know just how fucked up she was. — written by @redemptioninterlude

viii.   One, two … four. He counts drops as they wet Hara’s skin. Shimmering, like honey. Five. Would they taste like the buttery warmth of her lotion? He might run his tongue along the lattice of her veins. Lace himself inside her salt and skin. — written by @nightmarefuele

tagged by: the ever talented @corruptedforce tagging: @nightmarefuele @redemptioninterlude @v1ctimplagued @ofdrivensnow @fawnworked @everyoneismytoy @cava1ier @cnlyluck @luckhissoul @bakerscars @triicksters @unwaivering + ANYONE AND EVERYONE THIS IS A GOOD GOOD ONE. <3

#i'm feeling so sappy yall... thank you for tagging me in this #* filed under — ( ooc ) ( the director the writer the sap )

[keyofw]

Day 2 of NaNoWriMo and I’m 6500 words in. Now for an excerpt:

PRIDE

Just about the only people still working in this last week were the radio DJs. Even then most of them just played recorded clips on endless repeat. These days music stations were already nearly completely automated, so no change there except no ads and no intrusive announcements about the songs you just heard. Paul mindlessly flipped through radio channels. Someone might still be out there broadcasting news of some kind. It was a long shot but he wanted something new to listen to.

“...and this comes to us from a Mrs. Flynn from Tukwila. Dear Mr. Carson, she writes, can you please send this message out to my son? Your father and I are proud of you, David. We love you and miss you and are sorry we… we are sorry we cannot see you. You have always been our little boy and we’ve loved seeing what you have made of your life. We only hope that in these last moments you have found someone to share them with. Just know that we are sad to have to go, but we have… we have no regrets. We raised you right. We lived a good life, and we hope you did too. Love, your mother and father.”

The voice on the radio spoke slowly and calmly, stopping only a few times to regain composure. Someone was still in the booth at this station. Paul turned up the volume.“Just a reminder, this is Doc Carson. I’m the only one left in the booth, and I’ll be broadcasting all day until - until the final moments. For those of us with nowhere else to go, I’ll be your companion for the next sixteen hours or so. My e-mail address is still live and I will be reading your messages live on the air. Anything you want to say to anyone, I’m here for you.

“And now for a bit of news, what little there is left. From what we hear through the grapevine, there is still little to no traffic whatsoever. For the last week businesses have closed up shop and all other venues shut their doors. We’ve all stored up for ourselves what we need to make it through to the end. But if you have any last-minute emergencies, or you are still trying to see everyone on your visitation list before you go, the roads are open and free. All utilities workers have kept lines open and power on, but please don’t get careless. No one will be able to fix power lines. If you need food, water, clothing, or anything else, all shops in the greater Seattle metro area have been left unlocked and everything is for the taking. Looting is surprisingly nonexistent. People are taking only what they need for the last day. To be frank, even if the shops were locked, you could probably break a window and get in. Who’s going to come stop you anyway? But according to the messages I’m getting, it’s not happening. We’re seeing instead a mass movement of giving and charity. People are getting fed and clothed. The homeless population is taking up residence in Bed, Bath & Beyond. If you ask me, this is sort of how the world was supposed to work the whole time. Too bad we didn’t figure that out until the last few months. So, whoever is listening - whatever alien race picks up on these radio broadcasts, or whatever kind of god is out there - we’re sorry. We blew it.

“This next message, a bit of a long one, from a John Sykes in Magnolia: I was born in 1952 in Preston. When I was six, my father died of lung cancer. My mother had to take care of her five children all by herself. When I was eleven, I learned that the president had been shot. My oldest brother Tommy had been deployed to Vietnam. He never returned. In my first year of college, my mother took her own life. There has never been a time when death was not a basic fact of life. I knew that one day it would come for me, too. I got to live a pretty damn good and long time before the end. Not many make it to seventy-five, even without a goddamn meteor in the sky. Neither of my parents did. Tommy didn’t. The rest of my brothers and my sister all lived good, long lives, but they have since passed. I’m the last one left. It strikes me now how little difference there is between my own seventy-five years and my brother’s twenty-five. My children and my grandchildren may all feel cheated to know they’ll never get to see their golden years, as if life owed us a living.

“What are the golden years, anyway? Why do we work ourselves so hard, ignoring all the good things around us, hoping that someday we’ll be rewarded with riches when we’re too old and stupid to enjoy it? As far as I’m concerned, they’re all the golden years. Tommy was a bright and cheerful kid, despite everything in our family. He would draw little comic strips for me and my sister, superhero stories he’d make up. He also taught us dirty jokes that our parents didn’t approve of. When my father died Tommy was there to comfort us. We all thought of him as a hero when he went off to war. And when they brought his body back, we cried because we thought of it as such a huge waste. A whole life lost to a pointless war. But I refuse to see it as a waste, not Tommy, not my parents, not anyone, as if Tommy’s life only mattered if he got to get old and gray and lose his hair and teeth and forget his kids’ names or something. Maybe the things he did don’t matter to the world today. He mattered to me. Me, and no one else. That’s enough for me.

“The end is coming and it’s taught me that everyone has spent far too long trying to matter, trying to do something that will last for eternity. But if something is going to matter, it’s going to matter now. Tommy’s twenty-five years were some of the most precious years on this earth. We’re really nothing, all of us. If it wasn’t a comet or meteor or whatever, it would be something else - disease, murder, an act of God. One moment we’re up and talking and laughing and the next we’re gone, and the only thing that really matters is the things we do while we still have breath. Life isn’t a waste if you never achieved what you thought you were supposed to. Let it go. Just, let it all go. You don’t have a choice anyone. Anyway, that’s enough rambling from me. I should let you all know that I love you - each and every one of you. To my kids and grandkids, who wouldn’t know what a radio is if it hit them in the goddamn face - I cherish you and don’t regret a single day. I’m glad you existed, for whatever brief time that was. Maybe they’re right that the end is not the end, but even if the only thing waiting for us is a dirt nap, it will have been worth it. Goodbye to you all.

“Thank you, John. I love you, too. And now a message from someone just named Triss - a short one this time: to Mom, sorry about what I said. I love you. To Dad, thanks for everything. To the world, I love Vanessa. She means the world to me and made this whole life worth living.

“Once again, this is Doc Carson, from the Doc Carson show. From now until the end, I’ll be here, reading your messages to the world on KTST, and reminding you that you’re not alone even when - ”

Paul turned off the radio. He knew the messages should make him feel at peace but for some reason they just made him uneasy. It was silly to think it, but Paul had this gut feeling as if the messages were written specifically for him. Of course that wasn’t true, but he had a lot on his mind right now. Besides, he was almost there.

#nano #nanowrimo2022 #nanowrimo #writing #short stories #pride #apocalypse #posting my drafts

[nicotinemaiden]

Just found Heaven

I don't really care where I go when I die 'Cause I just found heaven

You can tell the devil that's he's wasting his time 'Cause I just found heaven

Sins washed away, dark turns to light If your body is a temple, take me inside

I feel no pain, pleasures of mine If you give me a taste of eternal life

[Daughtry]

Read on AO3  → 

The second one, a promise.

It had been a couple of days since Shirayuki saw Obi for the last time, peacefully sleeping next to her after the night they shared together. That day, when she finally dragged herself out of bed - tired of the nightmares that told her she would never see him again - she buried herself in her work and didn't talk to anyone more than what was necessary. If she could she would only nod and keep working. It was the only way she could stop thinking.

The next day even the office they assigned to them during their stay seemed too quiet, too calm without him reading small excerpts of the books - interesting facts that may be useful someday Miss, he would say. Some were more useful than others and, of course, sometimes he read things only for her to blush profoundly and throw something at him - there really are things you shouldn't read out loud Obi, she would answer after that, an unhidden smile on her face hearing his laugh. She missed him too much for her own good.

The third day she was growing impatient. So much so she decided to ask Ryuu if he'd seen him. He looked at her confused and surprised, as if she just asked an obvious question, his eyes picking at her from behind the book he was reading today.

"Obi is on a reconnaissance mission on the Bergatt territory to prepare for the soiree of masked knights."

She grunted loudly. How did she forget about that? She was busy preparing the medicine for that same event, relying on trial and error a lot more than she intended.

"I don't think it will be too long until he's back, if that's any help."

Ryuu added, arching one eyebrow, clearly wondering what was wrong with her lately.

She muttered a low yes, of course, thank you before returning to her desk. The young boy kept staring at her for a moment until he returned to his studies, writing in a patch of paper on his own desk. That was - maybe, probably - a good idea. If she could not talk to Obi maybe it was time she talked to the person she less wanted to at the moment: The second prince of Clarines.

She grabbed a piece of paper from the first drawer and tipped her quill on the ink. Good, that was the easy part. She breathed before starting, her thoughts unclear as to what she wanted to write in the first place.

Dear Zen, - she started, feeling confident only in those two words - I know we just saw each other not so long ago - if she was being honest with herself, it had been like two weeks - but I need to see you as soon as…

She stopped herself, crossing out the last words. They sounded… desperate. And a lot more romantic than she needed it to be. At least that was what her head told her. She continued on the same paper, deciding it was best to make a draft and then cleaning it when her thoughts were sorted.

I have to see you, whenever you can, only if you have time, there's no rush.

She crossed out that line too. She was in a hurry. She needed to tell him as soon as possible. She couldn't keep feeling like this and he deserved to know. Yet at the same time she felt she had no right to say anything before talking to Obi.

Shirayuki used the quill to scratch her chin, thinking.

"How would you tell someone you have to talk to them and it's not good news?"

She asked to the air, feeling hopeless. She was always good at talking her mind… in person. It was a lot more difficult doing so via letter.

It took a moment for Ryuu to realize he was the only one who could answer and he seemed startled by the question.

"I-I don't think I'm the best person to ask about relationships with people."

He watched her sulk a bit in her chair, her eyes fixing on the paper. He wanted to ask what was happening, what were those bad news, but he also knew she would tell him when she was ready. He didn't want to pry in something that didn't concern him.

So he closed his book on the table, whipping with his hands little smudges of dust from the corners.

"But… I'll try to be honest."

His voice caught her attention again, her eyes now studying him.

"I'll say there's something important that I have to say and that I would prefer to do so in person. If the person you're writing to cares at least a little about you, they will understand."

She smiled, her ideas clearer in her head.

"Thank you so much Ryuu. I knew you could help me."

He blushed, as always, before opening his book again and returning to it.

Dear Zen, I'm sorry to bother you as I'm aware you are busy. You know I wouldn't unless I had a good reason to do it. And I do. I need to talk to you, in person. We need to talk. And it's not something I could write or you would already know what's troubling me. I hope we can talk soon and I wish for our reunion to be one as friends, as it has always been. Shirayuki.

Reading it for the tenth time, she felt confident. She had been able to write it neutral, kind of urgent and important. Just the right amount. She pushed it to the envelope and sealed it before leaving her office to send it. That little letter was the first step on clearing the mess she forged for herself. Soon, it will all be different, be it a bad different or a good different. In all honesty, it already was.

She turned a corner of the hall just to come face to face with Hisame and she almost hissed at him, wanting to run far away from him. She didn't hate him, didn't even blame him anymore for what happened, but that didn't mean she was fine with having a conversation with him at that exact moment.

"Miss Shirayuki. Always a pleasure to see you."

Can't say the same, she thought, pushing the rude words away from her throat.

"H-Hisame, good evening. I wasn't aware you were still here."

He brushed her words with a hand, shaking his head.

"I just arrived a couple hours ago. Just some business to take care of."

She nodded, hoping it wasn't as visible as she felt it the fact that she wanted to bolt from him.

"That remembers me… Where is your shadow today? Haven't seen him."

There was a glint in his eyes that told her he was asking for more than that, but she answered only to his words.

"He's on a mission, won't be around for a couple days. If you have something to say to him you could rely your message to me and I'll make sure he hears it the moment he returns. If you trust me with such things, of course."

She smiled, just a facade to hide her jitters.

"Oh, I would, of course. But that's not it. I was just curious as to if he was the one who left that mark on your neck. I have a bet to win, after all."

With those small words, she panicked. Her hand moved to her neck without warning, searching for it even when she knew she couldn't feel that kind of mark just with her touch. Had it been there the whole time? Did the whole mansion know what she had done? She hadn't felt it when he'd done it. Why would he leave something like that if this was supposed to be a secret? She hadn't looked at a mirror in a while more than some passing glances, she hadn't felt the need to. Now she regretted it. Her mind kept racing, wondering why Ryuu hadn't said anything to her about it, and forgot she was supposed to be talking. Clearly Hisame saw the sudden display of nerves and the whiteness of her face because he laughed softly in front of her.

"Don't you worry, young miss."

He emphasised her nickname, the one Obi had made already clear it was reserved for him, and it made her angry, knowing it wasn't him who used it.

"You have absolutely nothing in your neck. I just wanted to see if something happened."

He came closer to her, crouching a bit to bring his eyes to her eye level.

"And the amusing thing is: It did."

He laughed a bit more.

"I didn't think he'd have the guts. Congratulations."

"I'm not here to amuse you, Lord Hisame. So if you'll excuse me."

She backed away a step, hoping for him to shut up and let her pass. She has had enough and felt stupid for letting herself be tricked like this. But there was no point telling him it wasn't true. She knew her reaction told him everything he needed to know.

He studied her for a moment longer before straightening himself and moving slowly to the side. She started walking and stopped herself after hearing his voice again behind her.

"I wasn't joking, I honestly congratulate you. I've seen the look on your eyes when you look at each other. This… fake relationship thing you had going on wasn't as fake as you two pretended to believe. I'm just relieved to see you being honest with each other."

She smiled subtly, looking at him over her shoulder, and continued walking on.

Honest. That was the word that failed her. She hadn't been completely honest. She was just now starting to be. But she made herself a promise that she would be. She would tell him everything once he was with her again and she would hope that, after knowing everything she knew, he would stay with her. As a friend, at least.

Before returning to her room she sent the letter she worked so hard to put together, not feeling any better than before doing it.

The next day started worse than any other. The nightmares were unrelenting and the pain in her chest seemed to have expanded to her head, her arms, her legs… She awoke before dawn feeling utterly sick yet being unable to return to bed. Lightning a candle next to the vanity she sat there, doing nothing, for a long time. Once the fog of her mind cleared and her brain accepted that nightmares were just that - nightmares - she picked up her brush and tried to tame her wild hair. She had to at least give the impression of being a normal person today. And she was so close to finishing the medicine she was sure today was the day. She had to give it her all.

When she arrived at the office she was alone. It was too early for Ryuu, or too late. More than once had she arrived at the pharmacy just in time to wish him a good sleep after a sleepless night of work. In any case, first things first: She needed a painkiller remedy. Shirayuki looked at the cupboards and stands, inspecting them. She picked up three petals of bromelain - which should have provided a small relief - before she found a jar of turmeric and decided that mixing the two would prove more effective. She just needed to reach it. It was a common ingredient, why in the world would it be in the tallest rack she had no idea. It was possible that she mistook it for another spice but that color was characteristic and the other she knew were similar were also uncommon. Or used in the kitchen instead of a pharmacy. She decided it was worthless trying to explain when everything here was sorted in a manner she couldn't comprehend. She missed the order of her pharmacy.

She moved the ladder under it without much effort, grateful for its lightness. One, two, three… and four steps took her to reach the jar. Or would have if she hadn't slipped at the last one, freeing the ladder from her hands before it could fall with her. She was ready to hit the ground any moment but, just like every other time she fell since she first left Tanbarun, her fall was stopped by strong arms keeping her steady for a moment before releasing her on her feet. She could still feel the burning of her skin - or his - moments later, crashing with the cold she had been feeling these last days.

"I can't leave you alone and trust you wouldn't hurt yourself even for a moment, can I?"

He sighed but she could hear the playful notes on his voice even louder than the pumping of her heart, so that was something. He was there, now in front of her, a half smile on his lips and dark marks under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept at all since his departure. Seeing him made her forget completely the reason as to why was she reaching for the jar. The pain, the ache, completely evaporated.

"What a shame. It seems you shouldn't leave me alone at all in case this happens."

She panicked just after hearing herself and tried to hide it pointing to the stairs, making a move to step on it again. Just an excuse at this point - she had exactly the painkiller she needed, right in front of her. He stopped her with a hand on her back and, with a swift movement and just one step on the ladder he pointed at the jar until she nodded and he snatched it out of the shelf.

"How's the medicine coming?"

He asked casually, leaving the jar on the desk and ignoring completely her last attempt at flirting.

"Good."

She thought for a moment, still looking at him, admiring him.

"I mean, it's not ready yet, but almost. I've had… trouble, concentrating, that's it."

He nodded and they both looked away, an awkward silence between them. She had so much to say she lost the words to say them. Looking at him like that, his eyes gleaming with the red of dawn, his hand playing nervously with his hair, his lips a thin line - void of the playfulness that played in them before… She just needed to kiss him. She wasn't sure if that was a normal thought on their situation but she restrained herself after realizing she was moving closer to him. Obi sat on top of the desk, facing the window but looking at her again. She could feel he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how.

"Miss, I- / Obi, I -"

They spoke at the same time and paused at the same time, causing a giggle from her. At least they broke the ice. She decided, as much as she wanted to know what he would say, she needed to speak first.

"I'm sorry Obi. For last time. I should have spoken to you… before anything happened."

She looked away. What they did was natural yet she didn't have the confidence to talk about it as if it was nothing. Not when it happened between them .

"No Miss. I should be the one apologizing. Nothing should have happened. I'm sorry I didn't stop it when I had the chance."

Was he… regretting it? She needed to know. Preferably before pouring her heart at him just to have it drained.

"Do you regret it Obi? That night… Would you like to go back to make things differently, if you could?"

Part of her was afraid of the answer while another was growing annoyed and angrier. This was not exactly how she expected this encounter to go.

"Of course I would. Of course I regret it. How could I not?"

He looked at her as if expecting understanding, but she was just angry and hurt. Most of it directed at herself. It was her fault he regretted it, it was her fault he was looking at her with such hurt on his eyes.

"You heard me the next morning, did you not?"

He nodded and looked away as if embarrassed to admit it.

"I was just… figuring out my entire life."

She allowed herself a small smile knowing she had already figured it out.

“I know how it must have seemed to you, that’s why I needed to talk to you. I don’t…”

She breathed for a minute. This was her moment. She needed to be clear, to say everything that was on her mind once and for all. And so, returning her eyes to his, she started talking faster than she could think, almost not breathing.

“I don’t regret it. I don’t think I ever will. It wasn’t just some crazy night of alcohol and hormones. Well, mostly it was, because that’s the way our body works, but that wasn’t all. I wouldn’t have done it with anyone else. And I mean anyone. I thought it was a mistake. Yes, the next morning that was the first thing I thought. But not because of you! It was a mistake because of the situation. I should have realized things first and done later, not the other way around. But, again, I was so blind I think it had to be this way.”

She was pacing nervously, moving her hands just to have something to do with them, talking more to herself than to him at this point. And she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. She was drowned in all the thoughts that crossed her mind lately.

“I feel horrible lying to Zen. I ain’t even lying because I hadn’t been able to talk to him yet. But I already felt this way before, the last time he kissed me when I thought I didn’t really want to. I just needed it to be over. I just let him kiss me because it was safe, it was what I’ve known for years. And I was so afraid when my heart stood at the same pace while I was with him. I was calm yet nervous. I should have known then as I know now. But I didn’t. And now I feel I’ve been lying to every last person in my life, myself included. I had a path I was sure to follow, everything just to be at his side, and now I’m not even sur-”

She stopped suddenly when she felt his arms around her, burning away every word left on her throat.

“Breathe, Miss. I almost couldn’t catch half the things you wanted to say.”

And she did. She closed her eyes for a moment, hugging him back, and buried herself in his smell. Everytime she was like this she felt lost in a forest at night, a warm bonfire at her side, plants and flowers surrounding her. It was the safest place in the world, his arms. She had thought about it before but never had she seen it so clearly.

“This is exactly what I was trying to say.”

She looked up to his face, a smile wide on hers.

“Usually it’s shorter to say ‘I need a hug’”

And she hit him then, punching his arm with all the strength she could muster. But he saw something in her eyes, in her smile, because as soon as she lowered her hand he brought her closer again and kissed her. Without so much as another word. It was slow and warm and she was kissing him back before even giving the order to her body. It wasn’t the first time they kissed but it felt like it. It was the first time she could do so knowing full well that it was what she wanted, what they wanted. And this time - contrary to the night they spent together - it was him who kissed her. He didn’t run away, he didn’t put a wall between them, he wasn’t telling her it was a stupid decision. No. He was kissing her and she… she was crying. Because she hadn’t felt so right in all her life. It was as if all of her - really - stupid decisions brought her to this moment. To the moment in her life when everything clicked. All the times she had to endure the touches and sinful words of the drunkards in her grandparents bar, all the unwanted attention on the streets, at her own home. All the times she thought she was weird, an exotic gem, something - not someone - to decorate the room with. You don’t need to hate it, it’s part of you, but it’s not you. You’re so much more. He was the first one to encourage her to show it, not hide it. He always wanted her to be herself - not more calm, not more smiling, not more reserved. If she jumped out a tower he would jump with her, not wait to tell her she was being reckless. She paused for a moment, her entire being, the kiss, her thoughts.

“I love you, Obi. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. And I’m sorry I made you think you were the problem when I was.”

It was the first time she actually saw him trip over the desk, catching himself in time to sit gracefully on top of it. She smiled, biting her lower lip. It wasn’t a bad shock, she could tell because he was smiling even wider than her, even when he didn't seem to notice. If she was going to keep getting reactions like that or like their kiss, she should keep talking. But he didn’t give her time to.

“Mis-”

He interrupted himself immediately, changing his wording.

“Shirayuki, you were never the problem. I was… really scared that morning too. I was absolutely sure you were going to, I don’t know, tell me that it was the worst decision of your life and that you never wanted to even look at me again. I was terrified thinking that maybe you were right and I had broken our friendship forever. And, of course, everything went south when I heard you, crying.”

Even knowing it wasn’t exactly that what caused her crying it still pained him. She could see it in the golden orbs that fixed on her.

“I had to do this mission but I was ready to leave. I wanted to talk to you, to apologize and pack my things afterwards. Instead, the first thing you say to me today? Hey maybe you shouldn’t leave anymore. How- What- You know how confusing it is coming back believing it will be the last time I see you only for you to tell me that?”

And they laughed, because that was the thing they did most when they were together. Worrying about one another and laughing.

“I’m sorry for that too. I just kept having these nightmares where you would go and never come back without even hearing what I had to say. I just needed to tell you. I won’t make you stay, unless you want to.”

He picked her up easily, her legs holding her to his body and her arms up on his shoulders, and kissed her again. Maybe it was the kisses who told her or the little smiles between them. Maybe it was the bigger smiles or the way her arms got up and her upper-body followed back, laughing to the sky - or to the ceiling, to be more accurate. Or maybe it was the way his hand pressed down her back, bringing her to him again just before she heard every word she needed to hear.

“I love you Shirayuki. And, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here.”

She stopped her laughs and smiles and lowered herself to the ground, looking at him so seriously he seemed startled.

“Would you say that again?"

Shirayuki could swear he was blushing. He was. And she enjoyed it as much as she could for the brief moment it lasted.

"I love you. I've loved you for so long I feel I'm dreaming. I think I'm just saying these things because I'm waiting to wake up at any moment."

The feeling, that unnamed feeling in her heart, so warm, filing her chest with a strange kind of pain. One that hurt but wasn't bad. It was as if someone was gripping her heart with all its strength, so much so she was afraid it would explode. Yet at the same time she felt incomplete without that pressure. She never wanted to feel so empty again.

She brought her hand to her chest without thinking, taking in the universe that was originating inside of her. She had been afraid of many things in her life, never so much as to stop her from doing what she thought was right but she wasn't new to the feeling. Yet at that moment she was terrified. Terrified something would happen that would tear everything from her. Was it normal that, at the happiest moment of her life, all she could think about for a moment was how she feared to lose it?

And then it happened again. He touched her arm - a little pressure to remind her he was there - and smiled while lowering his hand to hers. He didn't say anything, didn't need to.

He was with her.

He was hers .

And if there was something everyone knew about them was that, while together, they could do anything - and so, so much more.

#hey nicotine maiden here wishing you all a good reading! #hope you like it #mistake series #mistakeseries #mistakeseries2 #Akagami no Shirayukihime #ans #obiyuki #Obi x Shirayuki #mywork #fanfic #posted on ao3

[navk]

“I’ve been reckless” - an excerpt

I’ve been reckless.

All my life it appears I’ve been waiting for the right time. A sign. A signal. Some message from the cosmos to point me in the right way.

But we have to know the wrong way to know the right one. We need to make mistakes to know what lies on the other side. Where the grass is greener, and all that.

What is it with everyone and greener grass? Why are we never just content with what we have. It’s always about more. Whether to consume or possess, we need something more to our name. What a curse.

I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. I’ve been waiting all my life. So much time has passed in what seems like no time at all.

If I were to die tomorrow, I realize now that I would regret not doing that thing. Not sending that message or making that call. Not having had the chance to do that thing that’s been on my mind that I’ve been telling myself I’ll get around to. And it’s not even that I just didn’t get the chance- I didn’t take it. I didn’t make the time for it.

Did I tell everyone I love that I love them? Did I mean it?

Should I have gone to therapy after all?

Why do I assume I’m such a smart ass, that I know it all? That I can solve every single problem on my own when I know that I can’t?

I mean, I’ve tried turning to others. But after a while, everything fades. I once vowed to myself that I would never open myself up to someone ever again, because when they’re gone, they leave with every part of me that I gave to them.

What if I lose all of me in all the people I pour myself into? What will be left?

Where is my soul? Is it all just in pieces? Am I Voldemort?

Fuck.

— Nav K

#navk #poetry #personal #perspective #prose #spilled ink #people #voldemort #reckless #i’ve been reckless #recklessness #thoughts #freewrite #stream of conscience

[havithreatendub4]

"It feels like a dream and a nightmare all in one, it was difficult to not die when our eyes met. i have no choice but to dive into those pools of green. they represent every millisecond of what we had. i miss her. i love her. i always will. as will she. there were some difficult things to swallow...but, one either swallows or chokes.”

Depp felt antagonized by Heard, confiding in Carino, “She's poking at me to try and make me miserable...Textbook Narcissistic patterns. Why did she come to San Francisco??? No more games!!! She just wants her name cleared...She ain't being understanding, she's being stubborn, or she don't wanna talk to me...F--- This!!!”

The ”Pirates of the Caribbean” star said he had spoken with Heard about their future, writing:

"I don't know what to say...Apparently, she wants to go ahead with the divorce and then attempt a reconciliation...I need to think, man..."

He added, "What I wanted was a fresh start with my wife. which, i thought was what she wanted. she should do what she really feels...if her priorities are not us, then i will proceed and do what i have to do. i dangle no more."

”Man ... Her attorneys are telling mine, that I am calling and harassing her by phone!!! Is that them, or is that her???!" Depp messaged his agent.

”He continued, "First, I'm apparently stalling the divorce...And now harassing her??? She'd better put a couple of ball gags in her f---in' lawyers mouths and tighten them up.. She doesn't want to work anything out...Her lawyers want to settle because they would die 1,000 deaths in court...So she wants me all softened up to settle up nice...That's what this looks like!!!”

Depp was confused about Heard agreeing to the secret meeting in the first place, asking Carino, “Why did she come to Frisco??"

”The fact that she asked to see you and traveled to see you has to be problematic,” Carino wrote to Depp.

"Also, apparently, she filed papers to say that i have broken the restraining order by texting, speaking to her, seeing her in San Francisco...with all the bullshit i'm going through with this??? send me to county for breaking the restraining order...some of which, as you can guess, that she was more than complicit with!!! i couldn't give a f***in' fat rat's ass!! as she wants her name cleared, which can no longer happen in terms of the public's opinion and more than likely the people who run her profession, a product of choice by people...in the public's eye, she's no f***in' better than anna nicole smith!!! her trip to San Fran was a ruse to clear her reputation...and i fell for it, yet another lie...tell me im wrong!!! she's never brought up the notion of clearing my name as a f***ing wife-beating c***?? she don't want me fuckin' mad...i've tried d to get her away from her monkey ass lawyers!!! sorry for the rant, but...i am flabbergasted by the truth she gives me and the truth she actually applies when it's time to save herself from being caught in a legal fib...yeah, man...she really loved me the other day."

In a last-ditch effort, Carino tried to help the ex-couple come up with a joint statement to address all the drama, assuming they could settle the divorce amicably. It didn’t quite go as planned, as stories started to leak in the press about the meltdown going on between the two, and Heard accused Depp of leaking the stories in her part of the statement. He responded accordingly: "She filed the papers from the so-called 'deposition' ...Perhaps she was asked and she said what she experienced as far as the deposition!!! However, her attorneys have been in an exchange program with the f---ing NYC Post [sic] to drop their little tidbits of crippled truth every single goddam day!! Why is it wrong that my attorney may just be following the other lawyers example, if she actually spoke to anyone!!! we can settle this, then let's DO IT!!! Let's not forget who has been accused and portrayed, daily and continually as an uncontrollably violent savage abuser of women. She told the f---ing press that I'm drunk, a drug addict and cocaine head!!! How's about she starts thinking about that, because this statement makes me out as if I admitted to her false claims. This statement cannot be released!!!"

“I want this done with as much as her!!! What can I do??? Admit something that never happened!??? And just swallow a fucking "flat out lie" to save her ass??? Again, I've said nothing!!! She, Horseface Jodie and these s***eating c*** breathed "lawyers" have a constant fee to far more than just exclusively to the NY POST...They've fed People, Us Weekly, and the list goes on...!!! She needs to be reasonable...I ain't carrying an underserved "wife beater" charge on my back for her,” Depp wrote.

The star was hoping Carino would be able to plead his case to Heard, and pleaded for him to get Heard to focus on a “solution.”

”Please ask her to focus on the solution RIGHT NOW...Not the problem or the past!!! My brother...I'll be honest with you...I am actually fearful for her...As the clock ticks, if there is not a proper solution agreed to by the end of tonight, then we have arrived at the weekend, meaning it's Court beginning next week...It'll be a s***storm!!! There is no way to fathom the gravity of what she (and I) will suffer. An agony that we will carry on our backs forever...These lawyers are just sucking us dry!!! Speak to her. If she wants to attempt a reasonable and sustainable civility with me...If not...Just let me know, man."

In the end, Depp and Heard were able to settle their divorce for $7 million, with the caveat that the money was donated to charity. It was eventually donated to the Children’s Hospital Los Angeles.

"Once again, I find myself in a place of shame and regret. Of course, I am sorry. I really don't know why, or what happened. But I will never do it again. I want to get better for you. And for me. I must. My illness somehow crept up and grabbed me. I can't do it again. I can't live like that again. And I know you can't either. I must get better. And I will. For us both. Starting today. I love you. Again, I am sorry. So Sorry...I love you and feel so bad for letting you down," Depp texted an assistant to at the time.

Johnny Depp's attorney Adam Waldman tells The Blast, "Amber Heard subpoenaed her own and Mr. Depp’s texts with their talent agent, hoping for a word or sentence she could cherry-pick and give to her media friends. Be careful what you wish for. Instead, another time capsule of truth has arrived to further obliterate Amber Heard’s abuse hoax. The texts show Ms. Heard stalking Mr. Depp, luring him to a meeting in San Francisco that violates the restraining order she herself fraudulently obtained and then attempting a “ruse” to improve her reputation and divorce settlement terms. Throughout the texts, Mr. Depp consistently and emotionally denies her fake wife-beating claims against him. And this is merely a middle chapter in what remains a long book of physical evidence."

#Excerpts from #The Blast #March 9, 2020 #San Francisco meeting text #messages

[ad-drew]

The Shaman Society | An Excerpt, Part 6

Second draft editing continues to go well, chugging along a chapter at a time. I wanted to give another excerpt, but decided to go back a couple of chapters I had initially skipped over so I could share a bit of the lore of this world. Hopefully, some of you find it interesting!

Tagging: @mania-junkie-writes​

If you want to be added to my humble tag list, just send me a message and I’ll be happy to do so!

---

Dozens more buildings greeted her, each one in the same traditional design. Rei spun around with her mouth hanging open, staring like an idiot. No freaking way. She hadn’t dropped in on one random home. This was a city. But why? How? She couldn’t have fallen through her grandparents’ closet and landed on the other side of the world, could she?

“I don’t—this is—” Rei’s words stumbled out in stammering fits. The farther they made their way down the street, the more frantic her gaze darted around to take in everything. “What even—?”

Kaito grinned at her. “Welcome to Hinansho, the one and only city of Takama-ga-hara.”

“Takama-go-what?”

“Takama-ga-hara. Shinto teachings describe it as the dwelling place of the kami, but we’ve come to know it as the Spirit World.”

Rei rubbed her eyes. “Hold up. You’re telling me we’re in a different world?”

“Oh yes, my dear girl. Another world, indeed.”

Several individuals appeared around the street corner. The man was bald with dark skin, and the woman pale with a long coil of sleek black hair. The small child following them shared features of each, his skin a lighter brown than his father. All three were dressed in different colored yukata. Kaito offered a bow to greet them on the way by, and they returned in kind before continuing on their way.

“Takama-ga-hara is a realm outside the human world,” said Kaito, waving for Rei to keep up, “but exists alongside it in unison.”

A thousand denials swam through her head. Thoughts of books, and video games, movies, anime—all the different varieties of “other worlds” she’d ever been exposed to. Fiction. Stories. The sorts of things that didn’t happen in real life. “That’s not—I don’t believe it. How does any of this exist?”

The smile never left Kaito’s face. “I wouldn’t concern yourself so much with the ‘how’ as you should with the ‘why.’ This way.”

He led her to another street, this one crowded with multiple groups of people. Some folk simply passed through, going about their business. Others stood talking together, whether on the street itself or in the gardens outside various buildings. One woman knelt alone in one of the gardens, digging through the dirt with a trowel, while a young boy and girl ran circles around her in an audible, giggly game of tag.

A vast mix of different people dotted the crowd. A squat, tan man dressed in khakis leaned against a tree, talking in a thick Australian accent to a woman wearing a sun dress, who replied in a deep drawl. Another woman wore a dazzling blue qipao, and walked hand-in-hand with a copper-skinned woman dressed in white robes and a hijab. A thickly-moustached man wearing a frock coat and a cowboy hat ran by them with a laugh and a wave.

“And why am I here?” Rei said. “What is this place? Who are all these people!”

Kaito returned a wave to the frock-coated man on the way by. “You’re here because of who your parents were, and their parents before them. What they were a part of.”

Rei stared at him, a cold knot lifting into her chest. “What do you know about my parents?”

“They were friends of mine. As were your grandparents.” At the mention of her grandparents, Kaito’s expression sank. “I am sorry to hear of your loss, Rei. They were good people.”

“My grandparents were, yeah.” She shoved past him, continuing down street. Who the hell was this guy to talk about her family like he knew them? “But my parents abandoned me. Couple of no-good deadbeats. Suppose they ran off and left you behind like they did me, huh? Some friends.”

She heard Kaito sigh and shuffle after her to take the lead. “I should explain. This city you see around you, Hinansho, was built by a group of people who strived to make our world—the human world—a safer place, as we continue today.”

“This all sounds mad. You know that, right?” When he didn’t answer, she rolled her eyes and continued, “And what exactly do you keep the world safe from?”

“From evil. Monsters.”

Rei scrunched her brow, following Kaito around another bend in the street. Evil? Monsters? The hell kind of game was this old man playing at?

Around the bend, they stepped into a sprawling park. Dozens of blooming cherry blossom trees surrounded the open waters of a massive lake. A strong gust rushed through the trees, pulling a swirl of blossoms out onto the water’s smooth, mirrored surface. Like a thousand glittering stars, the petals moved across the water, spinning and circling each other in an unending dance. Like stepping into a goddamn fairytale.

A large square platform suspended over the center of the lake, connected to opposite shores by a pair of arching bridges. Pillars at the corners of the platform supported a sloping roof, offering cover from the beating sun of a cloudless blue sky above. Twelve individuals moved across the platform, each paired with another in a swift exchange punches, kicks, and grapples. Curious. Some kind of martial arts sparring session?

The combatants separated from each other and bowed, before squaring off for another go.  Flashes of blue light erupted in their palms, and Rei’s jaw plummeted to her shoes. Where there had been nothing, each individual now wielded a different weapon—a variety of swords, clubs, staves, and others among them. The combatants reengaged their sparring. Same intensity as before, only this time with everyone armed to the teeth.

Thin air. The weapons had appeared from thin air. Forget fairytales. She’d fallen into freaking Narnia. Unable to stop the words from tumbling out her mouth, she blurted, “What the fuck is all this?”

“We’re shamans, Rei.” Kaito looked to her. Gone was his smile, replaced by a stern, weighty gaze. The kind of gaze that made you shut up and listen. “And this is The Shaman Society, an organization that for centuries has worked to protect the innocent by hunting and eradicating malevolent supernatural forces.”

“W-what kind of forces?”

Rei couldn’t stop staring at the platform. These so-called shamans had begun performing impossible physical feats. Some moved so fast she could hardly see them. One man leaped what had to be fifteen feet straight into the air like some kind of human grasshopper. In one instance, a woman lifted her opponent over her head with all the effort of hoisting a sack of feathers and threw the man over the platform into the water below. The fallen shaman disappeared with a loud sploosh, only to spring into the sky a moment later and land on the railing, no worse for wear.

“Yōkai, to be specific,” said Kaito. “Creatures borne of the underworld, Yomi-no-kuni, where a person’s soul departs to when they die.”

Rei rubbed her palms furiously against her eyes. “Fuck, okay—yōkai? And these are monsters from another world?”

Kaito nodded. “When a person’s soul departs for Yomi, it may become corrupted during the journey. Yomi feeds this corruption, twisting the soul and changing it into a yōkai. Over time, these yōkai can slip into the human world through occasional rifts. The same thing can happen if a person dies with a powerful will to remain on earth, in which case the soul and spirit are unable to move on. The lingering regrets of the spirit corrupt the soul into a yōkai.”

She pressed her palms harder against her face. Any more, and she’d drive her eyeballs back into her skull. “And lemme guess: they kill people?”

“In order to survive in the human world, a yōkai must periodically feed on the life essence of living beings. How much and how often depends on the individual. Either way, The Shaman Society’s job is to stop them.”

Rei finally pulled her hands away, turning a bewildered stare towards Kaito. “So…souls, spirits? Those are real things?”

“Indeed.” Kaito raised his hands, palms flat towards the sky. A blue glow ignited around his right. “Two different natural forces exist within our bodies. The first is our spiritual energy, or ki. Our ki composes our spirits, which gives us our mind, our individuality, and makes us who we are. This same energy composes the entirety of Takama-ga-hara, giving it tangible form.”

Rei stared at the old man’s hand. There it was, glowing of its own accord with no discernible light source. Sure, totally natural. “Uh huh. Ki. And the other?”

A second glow erupted, this one red, surrounding Kaito’s left hand. “On the other side is our life essence, or chakra, which composes our souls. A soul gives the body its breath, its heart, its energy.”

The burning glow danced like fire in her eyes. “Chakra, sure. A little too Naruto, but go on.”

Kaito clasped both hands together. The blue and red light combined, glowing brighter and shifting into a deep, rich purple. “Bring both these forces together, and you get the gift of life. They create a natural balance between worlds. When a person dies, their energies split, with the soul traveling to Yomi, and the spirit here, to Takama.”

Rei took a step back and raked her fingers through her still-damp hair. Alright, so time to throw everything from tenth grade Biology right out the window. Forget the mitochondria. Life was powered by mystical energies. “So, by killing these yōkai you keep some sort of cosmic balance, or whatever?”

“And save people’s lives in the process. A reward all its own.”

Hollowness rooted in her throat, leaving an acrid, metallic taste on the back of her tongue. “Insane” didn’t even begin to cover this. Souls, spirits, shamans, evil monsters, cosmic balance—made for some cool stories, some fun video games maybe, but real life? No freaking way.

She pinched herself—hard, on the back of her neck, to the point a small drip of blood squeezed between her fingers. The resulting twinge of pain brought a disgruntled gasp to her lips. Shit. Okay, not dreaming. Go fucking figure.

#amwriting #writeblr #writerblr #wip #the shaman society #excerpt

[olliethealright]

Three Steps From Home - Novel Update #2

Hey everyone! Today, I’m going to do my second update on Three Steps From Home. This should be the last update with more than 1-2 chapters, after this I’ll be pretty much caught up to what I’m writing now. This update will cover chapters 5-8, and together, these chapters add up to 4361 words. Warning, this is going to be long because I like these chapters, sorry lol. 

Disclaimer: These are all my original thoughts and words, please do not steal them.

Trigger warning: Mental illness, mentions of suicide and self harm, homophobia, conversion therapy

chapter five - rest stop monsters - 1571 words 

theme song - the village - warbel 

This chapter is maybe the most chaotic in the book. We get the first taste of Jude being a bit unhinged and unreliable as a narrator. 

summary: Jude’s mother threatens to send him to conversion therapy, which causes a massive fight between the two. Jude packs a backpack and hits the road, making it a few miles on foot before he breaks down and calls Aaron from a rest stop.

Excerpts: 

Jude’s mother trying to send him to conversion therapy:

Mother clicked the TV off so hard, the rubber button got stuck in the plastic base. Her knuckles crackled as she shifted, turning the hard, unblinking stare of concentration usually reserved for priests on me. The reverence she used when looking at someone who spun God’s words like steel ribbons was gone, replaced by the look of someone who has found a dead thing in their house

“Father John and I have been talking,” she said, choosing her words carefully. Nothing good ever started with that phrase. “We’ve been talking, and we think you’re beyond our help. Beyond… normal help.”

No shit. I had been ‘beyond help’ since I was a kid, it was a miracle it had taken her so long to come to the same conclusion I had. “Okay… so what now?”

I knew the answer before I formed the words, but I wanted to hear her say it anyway. I wanted it to sting, I wanted a reason to blow up in her face. She fed my fire, she would watch as it burned me.  

Jude having a breakdown at a rest stop:

I brought my knees in closer to myself and shivered, my chest collapsed in on itself and my lungs emptied. The rest stop monsters closed in; I didn’t look at them. The minutes I spent waiting for you felt like hours.

By the time you pulled into the parking lot in your used blue pickup, I was half asleep, the start of a nasty cold already coursing through my blood. You parked next to me and got out, silhouetted against your headlights so you looked like someone else.

chapter six - Duo of Trespassers - 1266 words

theme song - mars - YUNGBLUD

Chapter five is definitely kind of a downer, but don’t worry, this book likes to play with your emotions so chapter six is weirdly... upbeat? This one is kind of hard to me to describe because the mood is very back and forth. It takes place the morning after chapter five. 

Summary: Jude wakes up at Aaron’s apartment, and they are now on a mission to break into Jude’s mother’s house and steal his stuff. 

excerpts:

Aaron talking about his past and then changing his mind and saying nothing:

“Good idea. When I moved out, my folks…” you trailed off, but it was enough to make me turn around. You had talked about your family just enough for me to know that you had one, and you probably weren’t adopted, although even that was foggy for me. Whenever I asked about them, you clammed up, changed the subject, complimented my eyes or the new sticker I had put on my laptop. I had stopped asking.

You waved me off like it was no big deal, but something about you had shifted already. You moved like a sparrow, ready to take flight at any second. You had paled a shade, your hands wouldn’t stop moving; adjusting the string at the waist of your shorts, then to your hood, putting it up, back down again, raking your fingers through your hair as if you were trying to pull it out by the chunk.

“It doesn’t matter,” you lied to my raised eyebrows. “Today’s about your bullshit, not mine. Now let’s get moving before we lose our nerve.”

“Aaron…” I should have stopped thinking about myself then, should have told you to go to work while I sorted my shit out, should have grabbed your hands and demanded you tell me something real about your life before I met you, but I didn’t. My tunnel vision didn’t include your distress, it barely included mine.

Jude and Aaron breaking into Jude’s old house:

My mother’s car was thankfully absent from the driveway when we pulled up. I slouched down in my seat and scoured the street for snoopy neighbors, determining after nearly five minutes that there weren’t any.

You boosted me through the same window I had used to leave the night before, left wide open, as if she had wanted me to return so she could trap me inside. Your fingers were freezing as I pulled you in after me, a duo of trespassers in a room that was still mine.

seven - high on nothing - 1011 words

theme song - peanut butter waffles - ryan caraveo

Summary: This chapter takes place three weeks after the events of the previous chapter. Jude gets a call from his mother for the first time since they fought and he moved out, and agrees to take Aaron to meet her over brunch. Aaron spends the rest of the chapter assuring Jude that he isn’t afraid of Jude’s mother, and he does want to meet her. Essentially, the whole chapter is Jude having an emo moment and Aaron eating his spaghetti and begging Jude not to worry.

Beginning paragraph: 

It was three weeks before my mother finally called me. Three weeks of being high with glee when I remembered she wasn’t waiting for me when I got home, ready to tear into me like a bear tears into its prey. Three weeks of feeling like I was looking into the chasm where her anger bubbled just under out of sight, ready to swallow me whole if I got too close to the edge.

Jude speaking with his mother on the phone:

“Jude?” she finally said, her pronunciation just a little off. My mother didn’t speak the language of apologies, but she stumbled through one that night. Her voice was hard as a brick wall, she was going against her better judgement, some part of her probably regretting it already. I let her talk.

She didn’t ask me to move back in, she didn’t ask me to change, she didn’t even ask me to go to church with her, which must have been a first. Instead, through gritted teeth, she said the words I never expected to hear from her. “Will you at least bring… him around the house? If you’re going to be dating, I deserve to meet him, at the very least.”

More of Jude being afraid of his mother...

I rolled my eyes and tried not to think about what my mother would say when she met you, how she would probably go after how you dressed first, and then the slight crookedness to your nose that I always thought made you more beautiful. Next, it would be: ‘does he even speak Spanish?’ And after that would come the obligatory: ‘I loved a white boy once, and do you know what it got me? An ungrateful son like you and a high mortgage.’  Then, she would pick you apart by the personality trait, by the star sign; tear you up and leave you in a heap on the floor.

 Jude explaining to Aaron why he’s afraid to see his mother

“My mother is… well you’ve heard the stories. My mother isn’t nice, she’s kind of a nightmare, actually. She doesn’t have a kind bone in her body, and she hates sinners more than anything. And she’ll probably insult everything about you. She’ll definitely try to shame me into marrying a Guatemalan girl from the next town over and having ten Christian kids and sending them to church school and having a dysfunctional family that looks perfect from the outside and then dying sad and alone.”

chapter eight - black and white - 505 words

theme song - untitled - EDEN (yes I've used this song before, but it’s one of the theme songs of the whole book and also its so pretty lol)

This is the shortest chapter in the book, and it’s definitely way underwritten, so I’ll be coming back to it. 

Summary: Aaron takes Jude to a drive in movie the night before their brunch with Jude’s mother to cheer him up. Aaron falls asleep, Jude drives home and reflects on his life.

Jude and Aaron being cute on the way to the movie:

You taught me words of the french you had learned in school as you drove, laughing when my pronunciation sounded more like ‘sad Spanish’. Eventually, I crossed my arms and spent the next ten minutes speaking only my mother tongue, which came back to me faster than I would have imagined after avoiding the language for years.

“Not bad, not bad,” you admitted when I finally got bored and switched back to english. “I mean, it doesn’t beat my secondary school French, but you’re getting there.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. I had learned Spanish and English at the same time, and until elementary school, I mixed them like they were one. I was smart enough to know the difference as the words rolled off my tongue, but not smart enough to understand that not everyone spoke that way. It took my kindergarten teacher kneeling in front of me on the second day of school and explaining that his classroom was for english only for me to realize that I was different.

Aaron falling asleep at the end: (I had a picture for this one but it got corrupted so RIP)

I’m not sure exactly when you fell asleep, it was somewhere between the last (and only) good jump scare, when you swore like a sailor and then laughed until there were tears in your eyes, and the end of the movie. 

Half the cars had already packed up and left before I slid your head onto one of the pillows and pulled a blanket to your chin. You shifted in your sleep, but didn’t wake. I shoved all the blankets into the passenger seat and then shook you just enough so one bleary blue eye opened. You were stretched out in the backseat, asleep before I could say anything.

Okay, there it is! I hope you enjoyed this update, because I had a really good time making it! As always, feel free to message me if you have any questions! Thank you for reading if you made it this far.

-ollie 

#threestepsfromhome #writblr #nanowrimo #nanowrimo2020 #writing #writer #author #book #novel #story #shortstory #chapter #update #fun

[thoughtful-lisztomaniac]

i felt my phone vibrate but i paid no attention to it assuming it was involving work. i got into my house and went to my room and jumped on the bed, pulling my phone out. I turned it on and saw your number and my stomach dropped. “what do you want now?” i thought. i read the message and you were hoping i was having a good summer, but it wasn’t that simple. not a single word you typed was spelled correctly, meaning you were typing through tears or you were drunk. but you don’t drink. at least you didn’t anymore when we were together because you stopped for me. i stared at the message for what seemed liked hours but only minutes. i began to type, “don’t text me because your life is beginning to fall apart and mine is finally getting put back together. don’t text me because you’re in an argument with your new girlfriend or because you broke up. don’t text me because you miss talking to me because you had your chance to be in my life a million and one times but every single time, you chose to leave. don’t text me because i used to know the right words to say and what to do to comfort and calm you down because that’s not my job anymore. don’t text me because you want to apologize and you realized that i put my heart and soul into our relationship and you regret throwing not only the relationship, but me away. don’t text me.” i stared at what i typed and hovered over the send button. “just fucking press it,” i thought. but instead i deleted it. “i don’t have your number saved for a reason. you’re not worth my time.”

excerpt from a book i’ll never write #25 // i have a million and one things to say to you but i don’t have a second for you

#excerpt from a book i'll never write #excerpt from a story i'll never write #excerpts of stories #excerpts from my life #excerpts from my writing #excerpts from my journal #breakup #brokenheart #you broke my heart #poets corner #fuckyou #feelings #heartbreak #heartache #letter to you #love #letter to my ex #new poets society #poets on tumblr #poem #poetry #personal #quotes #relationship #reading #long reads #short reads #random #spilled thoughts #spilled ink

[seominjiuniverse-blog]

when it's over, that's the time I fall in love again

My mind can’t spit out anything much to newer, nicer , better to say. The title  came from an old song, a boy band I think?

Breaking dawn with I love you then goodbye. Yesterday morning I’m on my newly tradition of blogging then crying deep inside ‘till I get tired and fall asleep. here’s an excerpt:

I remember him again. the pain is still there. The water in me is rushing all over to be a drop of tear and see the world to be dried by air. nonsense? . The feeling is really inexplicable you’ll only have the chance to know when it’s you who’s already experiencing the state of being everything!

Just a few minutes ago,I really can say that I’m only seeing part of the picture and it’s cute to think how it’s that when I was only sixteen, my present problem already had the same problem I have right now with him. Well in fact that time of my life I was blissful starting a relationship with my first (informal) boyfriend which lasted for three years because of my immaturity and STUPIDITIES.

PAPA JACK said over the nationwide broadcast FM Radio: “just be thankful that it was once yours. At least when you get old and can’t do anything at all but to sit on your rocking chair, you could at least reminisce for the good days that you spend with that someone. Your best days with that person no matter how long for as long as you’ve been given the chance to experience so.” I hope I made  right translating it. 

That’s it. I really love Franco and all I can do now is wish for his happiness without me. Maybe it’s not our time yet. I don’t want to fool myself with false hope but I don’t want to cut the spirit of hoping and believing. As the song goes “Hope for the best and expect the worse”.

I laugh in my mind and felt more fortunate than others. While I am grieving for just a month or two, he’s been in pain for years and so.

Life is really a matter of choice. Life in general~everything that is possible! with it’s every aspects, you just need a bit of emotions from a vessel named heart to make mind decide to be a little bit nicer, softer , weaker than usual. But all is up to you, well if he chose to be imprisoned in his own desire to prove what he wanted to, I cannot oath to do like him so, I need to SAVE myself.

Dying alive is really an awful situation. But if we don’t experience failures we will not be able to grow for we won’t want anything more if everything is perfectly in place.

If its not him, then I’m bound to look elsewhere to see that someone ment to me is waiting to make ourselves happy ~ happiest.

LOVE hurts sometimes when you do it right. Every relationship is a trial and error.

DIE and be reincarnated people and bring on the lessons with you as you go along , as you move on. (MIRROR)

sacrifice is the true language of love, as much as I want him to be with  him I would like  it more to let him be happy the way he wants to be.

This is a lesson learned I would like to share with everybody.

*still have a lot of childish hopes and disappointments ‘till now, but better keep going than be stuck in here forever and never try to discover and re-discover whatever*

(Whew! whatta long excerpt of mine!)

Going back, why do I ended up writing another public blog???? Maybe because I decided to keep IT all again with me, not being shared with any technology, something that any monitor won’t be able to be seen upon.

Last night I’m in my friend’s house planning to go to MOA and have a small quality time while touring our officemate’s brother who’s new here in Manila. As we were waiting for their car to pick us up, I’d been asked to send a text message to our officemate using Leah’s mobile phone and as I was browsing her phone book, I automatically saw his name and the rush came through my body again (franco-mj). I decided then to give him a ring without my friend’s permission, then after three busy tone after long span of waiting and hearing a ring I decided to stop what I am doing. Then the night grew deeper and her family was watching a real-life story in ABS CBN, the movie in Maalala Mo Kaya is sad but I felt like crying because I of what the story’s situation reminded me.

Then as I admit  to them that I miss him, Leah who’s already holding her moby phone told me that HE texted. At first I thought 'twas a joke but then as she handed me the phone I prove that she wasn’t.

Just like before, I got too excited and as that guy thought Leah’s number was her close friend’s number, I tried to imitate her best friend’s way of texting just to hear from him again and even asked him to come t where we were heading at.

Then while were on our way to our destination, I failed to convince him and decided to give up fabricating too much false hopes bout him. and the feel of pain pang inside my chest, my mind, my body and my entire system again. I’m about to cry but then held back my tears, I don’t want to ruin my new company’s first bonding time with me.

We settled at Padis Point MOA an first asked for a tower of three-flavored cocktail drink. As the night turns to midnight, under the full moon of 24th and 25th of July, I started to feel alone and lonely again while on outdoors with a loud music and a lot of groups of people around me. I miss him. I hate him. I love him.

I thought the night I mean morning will end the way I tried hard to be ~ not letting them witness my river of tears which is about to explode. (disappointed to him for not even appreciating any of my effort and not making me feel possess any worth).

Suddenly, after a little dance and drink again, it is already morning, the chickens are about to shout and wake people up.I went inside Padis to look for Zand when I go back to my seat, he is already sitting on our table!!!

BANG! a surprise image of him welcomed me away! The moment I was just about to came near to our table, I thought he is just another imagination

I will be happy if I’ll see that letting him go, giving him up will make him happy.

he said he came there to help me, to end my longing and not to add misery and sorrow and to let me move on with my life without him. Not hanging anymore….

Then we ride inside the car,(we’re overloading argh!) and sitting on his lap it made me feel hollow. I want to embrace him even after standing beside him. I tried to touch his hand but he refuses to add another memory.

Then there, they dropped me in front of our gate. and another hope sprouted in me. that  one day when he realizes that he can’t do it again without me, he will come in front of our front door and ask me back in his life. - ANOTHER FOOLISH FANTASY

I might even have somebody beside me by that time.

I miss him so much. Lord help me pass this through I always wanted to, but the feeling is uncontrollable by my mind.

Still on with my tradition:

Every night i talk to the stars pretending its him.. it acts just like him though - - far away and never replies to my questions that left me with no other option but to CRY.

I cry for the time that he was almost mine

I cry for the memories I’ve left behind

I cry for the pain

the lost

the old that seems new

I cry for the times I thought I had him.

But the bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.

He never was and he never will be mine.

’ Till now I wish I had the guts to walk away and forget about what we had. But, I can’t because I know he won’t come after me, and I guess that’s what hurts the most

Just living and breathing and trying not to die again …

And hey, here’s another blog of mine which I opt to make public =) :

There are always two sides of the coin as they say. only two particle charges. There’s black and white ; good ad bad ; angel and devil ; big and small ; thick and thin and so on… I had played a lot of role in  my existence so far. I’ve been the bitch , crazy , funny , boring , enthusiastic, stupid , foolish , wise , strong , weak , undecided ,clever , beautiful , best , worse, attractive , sexy , loser , shy , lover , baby , mother , daughter , sister , friend , acquaintance , casualty , student , teacher , aunt , relative , passer by and a lot more.

Just recently I prove my own theory and made my reason before reasonable by experiencing it on my own. I dupe someone before fearing that he might be able to it first before me. When he’s already out of my life, I regret it but tried to look stronger and tell them ” If I didn’t do that and be very naive, I’ll just wake up that he’ll be the one doin it to me”. So I always say before that it’s nice to be bad. Nice to fool around instead of being fooled upon,

I thought KARMA doesn’t know me, yet it came. Life really teaches me that being too nice to someone or giving your best will just show you the worse.

Dunno what script will I give to myself again. Will  I rather be a saint who is being stab to death or the sinner who is being burn to ashes.

used with being confused.

I don’t know what I want. (throwing the love away) throwing but not letting go. I keep on effing playing the memories over and over again till it gets damaged but it seems like its being photocopied a million times when I do.

I hate myself for loving you. I even hate myself for beleiving in love and applying it to you.

Actually, I am happy, sad, high and low this time. I hope and waits for the day to come where  someone will really touch my heart and teach me how to feel again and make my inceptions new. Again I’m sorry for what I did to you Al Franco Adeja Ocampo. There will be no other you in my life. You are the first and life is just about to start. I wish for your happiness and success I hope to hear it soon. Thank you for making me feel wrong and right. For letting me realize things others cannot give and let live in me. For making me struggle hard to be a better person. For letting me saw what my mistakes are and how I could make it right. Please be strong enough for your own.

Ill just stay this way 'till my heart feels like doing so end 'till my mind can tolerate my foolishness with and for you.

[edc-creations-blog]

Into The Mist: A LaShaun Rousselle Mystery by Lynn Emery

LaShaun Rousselle is on the hunt again!

A six-year-old girl vanishes. The main suspect is found brutally murdered. What’s the connection? Psychic LaShaun Rousselle is on the case, because these are far from ordinary crimes.

  Excerpt: Into The Mist

“To recap your story, you went out to party when you didn’t even know where your six- year-old kid was, left your three youngest here alone, got back drunk after one in the morning, woke up, saw the writing and decided something was wrong.” Det. Anderson pressed his lips together.

Sherry flinched. “I didn’t leave until almost ten, so really it wasn’t all that long.”

“Uh-huh.” Anderson put on his sunglasses and looked away from her.

Sherry faced LaShaun. “They say you’ll know. Tell me what this says. Where’s my girl?”

“I don’t recognize these letters, Sherry,” LaShaun replied. She read regret in the woman’s eyes.

“We’ll have to do some more research,” Chase added. “Det. Anderson, take a set of pictures for the department. Work with Deputy Wilcox to scrape samples of the ink off. We’ll send it to the state police lab for analysis.”

Det. Anderson hissed low. “Right. We’ll track down who decided to be an artist in the middle of the night.”

“It wasn’t me. Tante Alice and grandmamma says it’s evil. If that’s true, then they got my Dina and no tellin’ what they done to her by now.” Sherry’s voice rose to a hysterical whine. “It don’t take long to hurt a little girl.”

At Chase’s signal, the female deputy stepped forward and took her by the arm. Their voices faded as Sherry allowed the deputy to lead her away. “C’mon, ma’am. I’ll take you over to your mama’s house like you said. Let’s pack a few things.”

LaShaun turned to Chase. “Where are the other children?”

“The middle child’s father picked him up. The other two are with Sherry’s mama. DCFS hasn’t made a decision on removing the three youngest yet.”

The Louisiana Department of Child and Family Services, notoriously understaffed and underfunded, might well be leaving the children with relatives. At least Sherry wouldn’t be left alone with them in the short-term. Chase pulled LaShaun aside so that they were across from the action in the dining area. Anderson continued taking pictures yards away. A second deputy helped him. Both carried evidence bags and collection tools.

“Your phone keeps buzzing like a trapped wasp. What’s up?” Chase said low. He watched her read text messages from Miss Rose, Justine and Pauline for several moments.

“They don’t know either, but they’re working on finding out.”

“But you said the writing is in letters.” Chase frowned at the walls.

LaShaun scrolled to the photos of the writing on her phone. She gazed at them as she talked, “Yes, an alphabet. They’re arranged to be sentences I think, not pictures telling a story. But I’m sure no authority on arcane languages. I’ve only studied a few like the Enochian Language, the Rune of Othalan, and a few others.”

“Naturally it couldn’t be something simple. No, we got the Rune of Whatsit.” Chase let go of a long sigh.

“The Rune of Whatsit?” LaShaun grinned at him.

“Do me a favor. Keep that language of the ancients talk between us for now. You know what kind of ink that is because you sniffed it.” Chase nodded toward the writing on the nearest wall.

“Yes…” LaShaun pursed her lips together. Then she cleared her throat.

“That was your cue to give me an answer, LaShaun.” Chase nudged her. When Det. Anderson glanced their way, he waved and put on a neutral expression.

“I don’t think you’re going to like the answer, babe.” LaShaun smiled at the other officers. She turned her back to them as if studying another part of the room.

“Let me think. We got a missing child, demonic scribbles on the wall, a drugged out mother, and a Cajun mafia family. Honey, I already don’t like a damn thing about this case.”

“I never said the writing was demonic or satanic, but from the smell, I’d say the writing was done with Bat’s Blood Ink.”

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Chase blurted out. When Anderson jerked around to stare at him. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Just keep collecting evidence.”

( Continued… )

© 2016 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Lynn Emery. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

  Purchase Into The Mist by Lynn Emery Series: Book 4 – LaShaun Rousselle Mystery Order the 4-Book Series: http://amzn.to/2rGXUKX Order Paperback: https://www.createspace.com/6491355 Download: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01IJOWULK Series: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B071J1H4G4/ref=series_rw_dp_sw

  About the Author Lynn Emery’s recent titles include three mystery series, the LaShaun Rousselle novels, Joliet Sisters Psychic Detectives, and the Triple Trouble Mysteries. She’s the author of over twenty novels, one of which was made into a television movie by BET. Read more at http://www.lynnemery.com

Follow Lynn on Twitter: @LynnEmeryWriter Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/lynnemery YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/lynnemery Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lynn.emery.author

  Into The Mist: A LaShaun Rousselle Mystery by Lynn Emery LaShaun Rousselle is on the hunt again!

[southaustinlocation]

Sexscapes: The Internet Gives a Voice to the Perverts of the World

Ever since it reached a level of general western-world ubiquity sometime in the 2000s, it has been widely accepted that the internet is one of humanity’s most ingenious inventions. The ways humans interact and connect with one another world-wide has been changed so fundamentally that to describe them would seem futuristic and absurd to twenty-year old incarnations of my now aged grandparents. Sites like Wikipedia, Google, and YouTube have not only entered the lexicon, but have also become invaluable research tools for the average individual curious to discover more about the world at large. Soon, it seems, it will be difficult even to find a cellular phone plan that doesn’t require paying for round-the-clock internet access as part of the basic contract.

For the first time in the history of our species, information and knowledge have become more or less democratized [though it can be argued that inherent class discrepancies lead to the fact that those who are unable to afford internet access, i.e. the bottom rung of the socioeconomic strata, now face more obstacles than ever when attempting upward social and economic mobility], and it would seem the average internet user has few excuses not to continue their education far past their formative school years.

But the human capacity for perversion should never be underestimated.

According to some not-so-groundbreaking research (mine), the internet, along with being one of the final bastions and troves of limitless, easily accessible knowledge available to an increasingly apathetic and dumbed-down populace, is used primarily for two main purposes: “trolling” (the sending of inflammatory or provocative messages purposefully crafted with the expectation that this initial message will elicit equally negative responses, or, if the troll is particularly lucky or adept, the commencement of an all out “flame-war”); and, of course, the viewing of pornography. Both of these purposes being symptoms of the altogether larger first-world problems of boredom and a general and ever growing inability to empathize with other sapient beings.

However stark and socially pertinent, none of this should come as particularly surprising or new information. Since pretty much its first widespread public use, the internet and perversion go together like cops and child molesters in prison (the metaphor, of course, falling short at the fact that, unlike prison, where police officers and pederasts meet up in protective custody—the smaller, secluded group of the prison at large—the perverts of the internet are the general population). Hell, one of my first experiences with the internet was when I was twelve and I didn’t have it, but my next door neighbor did, so every afternoon I’d go over to his house and, sitting in the side room of the garage where his family computer was kept, we’d burn through his AOL hours disc by logging onto AOL Instant Messenger and asking strangers if they “got pics?” Then, after inevitably getting bored with this game, searching for naked pictures of the girl from Seventh Heaven (no, not Jessica Biel, who actually had semi-nude photos published in Gear magazine around this time, but the slightly more homely Beverley Mitchell, for some reason).

But that was back in the Wild West frontier days of World Wide Web-based perversion and sexual curiosity. These days, perverts are no longer cloistered away to obscene chat sites. Instead, with the inception of so-called “porn 2.0”—tube sites such as Youjizz, YouPorn, PornoTube, PornTube (distinct from “PornoTube”—common mistake), FuckTube and BookpornTube (compelling name, I must admit, though surprisingly unliterary in the final analysis)—the perverted majority of the internet finally have a way to truly interconnect with one another: rubbing them out to the same videos as thousands of other horny people.

Someone, however, decided the perverts of the interweb weren’t connected enough by these shared masturbatory stimuli. Somewhere down the line, apparently, the question was asked at a pornographic video tube site board meeting: what happens when the trolls of the internet are given a medium with which they can broadcast far and wide to other trolls and pervert-trolls, just how they, as an individual and lonely troll caught in the vastness and potentially infinite wisdom of cyberspace, feel about a particular pornographic video? This led to the somewhat alarming decision to begin including “comments” sections for each video on many of the more popular tube sites.

In an effort to try and better understand the perverts of the internet (myself included), I decided, at great risk to my personal sanity and computer security, to browse through a varying array of these comment sections to see what I could glean from the pervert-trolls of the internet. Interestingly, the results actually managed to be profoundly disturbing in ways that superseded my already sordid expectations. With the hopes of not encouraging additional traffic to any of the sites, many of which are hosted in foreign countries, thus allowing the sites to avoid prosecution for the hosting of copyrighted material and in turn denying profit to the hardworking men and women of the pornographic industry (yes, that previous sentence was completely serious), I will be withholding the names of the sites in question, though I will be providing my notoriously stringent editor with URLs for all of the videos in question. Videos will be chosen the same way I choose which Wikipedia articles I’m going to read to kill time: I will start at the homepage and see what looks interesting until I’m inevitably led down a wormhole sticky with wasted-time and shame and regret.

##

Video One: “Retail Store Creampie”

The Video:

I’ll start first with what appears to be a short excerpt taken from a longer film. The video has seven comments and an overall rating of 88.50% with 554 “Good” votes, and 72 “Bad” votes. The video is four minutes and six seconds long and depicts a young woman in a green shirt getting plowed by a guy with a shitty tattoo on his ribs. Throughout the video she makes some fake moany noises and says things like “fuck me.” Also, she’s getting banged in a store on a clearance rack for some reason. Pretty standard porn territory.

The Comments:

Comments range from the coherent, if subject-ambiguous, “nice cock. Love his pussy pounding, wish it was me,” to people being pissed about false advertising in the title of the video, “not a creampie stupid,” and, “THAT WAS NOT A CREAMPIE MOTHERFUCKERS!!!” Then there is the somewhat baffling, “can’t stand those fake moans, quiet moans are hot, but not those fake-ass American-hoe ones. FUCK YOU AMERICAN ASSHOLES. WHITEPOWER!!!”

(Reader, take note that this last comment, left 07/31/2010 at 1:12 am, is a classic example of trolling. Notice how the comment doesn’t make sense, but implores others to reply defensively.)

What I learned:

The art of trolling is alive and well in porn comments. Also, if your video promises a creampie (sex act—you can look it up your damn self), you’d better deliver. Otherwise, people will call you names like “stooped.”

Video Two: “Barely Legal Casting”

The Video:

With a total of twenty-four comments, this video has 1,484 votes with an 86% positive rating and 1,714,761 views. It was added to this particular site eight months ago which means that this video is watched roughly 7,030 times per day. The video is part of the “Backroom Casting Couch” series of videos. It is a “reality” porn series, where a middle-aged dude, face always blurred out, has unprotected sex with women, many of them girls who appear to be amateurs and in their late teens. In this video the man asks a girl who claims to be eighteen, but could pass for fifteen, a whole bunch of awkward questions about sex, which she answers in a way that either highlights a strong history of character acting, or simply belies her actual sexual greenness. The man then proceeds to have her strip in front of the camera, ostensibly as part of a casting process. After sexing her up against a wall, he ejaculates on her face in a close-up that is really just creepy and left me feeling not aroused, as porn should, but rather cold inside.

The Comments:

Highlights include the somewhat racist, “have you ever done any black chicks? Or are you afraid that they’ll find out & shoot you? LOL” by someone named Bonezz_11 (his profile picture shows a shirtless dude with sunglasses and a visor blowing out some sort of smoke, and under “more info” he is listed as a twenty-two year old male who has been actively using this particular site for over two years and has watched 2,224 videos, giving him an average of three porn videos per day); the perverted, “daddys girl exploited, love it,” and, the misogynistic, “she looks hot with a dick in her mouth, but other than that, not so cute. too tiny,” by Freaknasty831, whose profile picture is an erect penis.

What I learned: (Besides how many porn videos Zach Bonezz_11 watches per day.)

That the American public education system is profoundly failing to teach its youngsters that riddling your text with comma splices makes you look like a total dumbass.

But, my porn comment research did lead me in an educational direction. Additional research into the authenticity of the Backroom Casting Couch series revealed that the male “star” of the videos is an Arizona man named Eric Whitaker, and that he totally has Herpes Simplex Virus Type I (he released proof through his Twitter account for some reason). The girls in the video are paid a flat fee up front, and are fully aware that they are entering Whitaker’s sleazy as hell Scottsdale office to have sex on camera, though apparently Whitaker has no qualms about knowingly spreading his Herpes, an offense which in the state of Arizona could possibly be considered aggravated assault.

Since June 2011, the greasy fuck Whitaker has been on the radar of sex crime detectives.

Next month Anderson continues to probe the porno-troll world and stumbles across a sex scandal involving a senator’s daughter.

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