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unabashegirl · 2 days ago

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Different 14 — college hs

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing well. I just got two things to say.

I just posted Different 34 on Patreon!

I'm still trying to gather the money to continue my journey to medical school in January. I've only gotten 1% of my goal. I'll leave the link here in case you would like or are able to help me. Please I am desperate! 🥺 https://ko-fi.com/mariabernal8706

--> different masterlist <--

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Harry had multiple questions that he needed to ask her, but how could he? There were surrounded by people and in a public space. He also had no intention of ruining the night. Their worlds had finally collided, and he could tell that Y/N looked so happy. Harry wasn’t planning on destroying her happiness.

“So, Sarah” James started a conversation with her. He wasn’t blind. He could see Sarah’s natural beauty. She wasn’t like most of the girls that he spent time together with, who always tried too hard to be noticed. He never cared for those types of girls. Sure, he had fun with them, but he never considered them for anything beyond that. He had gone crazy in his freshman and sophomore years which had granted him his current reputation as a fuckboy.

James had always carried himself with much confidence. He wasn’t just good-looking, but he was also smart. Most people perceived to be a jock since he spent most of his time at the gym and on the field. James’s father was the owner of a big company just like Y/N’s. His future had always been predestined. He was expected to fulfill his father’s spot after college. He was scared, excited, and nervous. James's father was the CEO and had hundredths of men working for him. James would eventually have to care for them too just like his father had done for so long. They were all his family, so the pressure was defiantly on.

“Tell us a little bit about yourself” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his sweater and leaned forward intrigued about what she had to say. She had been far too quiet, and he wanted to hear her.

“What do you want to know” She giggled and smiled, hating the attention that she was getting from Y/N’s handsome friends. Sarah had always flown below the radar especially when it involved boys. She wasn’t interesting enough; they would usually say, and she had accepted it. She didn’t take it to heart. Sarah knew that if that is what it took for her to have a respectable job after she graduated, she was willing to risk it all. Plus, all the men that said so, would eventually be working under her.

“Anything. I am all ears.” James was starting to understand Y/N’s fascination with Harry. He liked that she wasn’t throwing herself at him or speaking none stop about herself. She was acting a bit hard to get. It was refreshing.

“Why are you suddenly so interested?” Sarah clapped back wanting to know his intention. Sebastian chuckled and laid an arm over his friend’s shoulder. He was actually surprised that she hadn’t fallen for his charm, yet.

“Because you aren’t like the others” Harry was starting to feel a bit awkward about the whole interaction. It was weird having two men deliberately flirting with whom he considered his best friend.

On the other hand, Mitch was not having a good time. He was actually very annoyed with both men. He had always liked Sarah. She was like the sun to him. Every time he got close enough to her, she would burn him and turn him away. Mitch couldn’t stand away either. He needed her around just like Earth needs the sun to survive. Now, he had more competition. He felt like the chances of finally being with the girl of his dreams were slipping away.

“That was really good” Y/N breathed as she finished eating her last taco. Harry smiled and reached out to her from under the table. She knew that she had a lot of explaining to do. The last thing, she needed or wanted was for things to turn messier. She just prayed and hoped that Brian would stay miles away from her. Y/N just wanted to enjoy her senior year.

“Alright. Let’s go” Sebastian smiled as he abruptly stood up from the table.

“Where?” Sarah asked, confused at his sudden outburst of energy.

“To do something fun!” He teased, “Come on!”

“Where are we going?!” Y/N asked again as she loaded her bag in the back of Jeff’s car. Sebastian always had half of his body. in the car as he laughed heavily. “My car is back on the main campus!”

“Everyone get in. We’ll take you and then you’ll have to follow us!”

“There is no way we are all going to fit in!” Sarah exclaimed as she watched Y/N and Harry get on.

“Here,” Y/N said as she slid on top of Harry’s lap. “Now you can fit” Mitch allowed Sarah to get in the middle seat and then he squeezed himself in. Harry wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist as soon as James hit the gas. They drove like maniacs and Y/N was already used to it.

“We are going to die” Sarah whispered to Mitch, “We should be back in the dorm and studying from where we had felt of.”

“It’s your senior year, Sarah! You are meant to be having fun” James said as he looked at her through the rearview mirror. Sebastian chuckled along with Y/N, who was too entertained preventing her head from smashing against the roof of the car. “Will you follow us?”

“Only if you tell us where we are going,” Y/N said as they dropped her off by her car.

“Absolutely not” James puffed, “Where is your sense of adventure? You know you are not going to be in your twenties, in college with your boyfriend and your best friends forever”. Y/N pursed her lips and shook her head with a smile.

“Fine!” He had gotten her. James had the ability to convince everyone to do the craziest things ever.

Y/N decided to take everyone in her car. She promised to drop each of them off after their little rendezvous. “Where the fuck are they going?” She mumbled as she drove down the unrecognizable back roads. She was leaning forward, and quitting her eyes trying to figure out where they were taking them.

“You seriously don’t know?” Harry asked as he looked at the time on his phone.

“No” she giggled noticing the backlights of James's car flashing. He pulled in the middle of the road. Y/N turned off the engine of the car as the boys got out of their car.

“Where are we?” Sarah asked as she looked around. It was a deserted street, surrounded by woods. It looked like a back road with no houses close by.

“Come” James opened Y/N's car door as he turned on the flashlight on his phone and led the way into the woods. “Don’t be scared” he reassured them as they walked into the dark woods in a straight line. James and Sebastian had found the place on one of their daily jogs. They had never taken anyone before, which explained their over-excitement.

“Do you know where you are going? Y/N asked as she trailed behind Harry. Their hands were intertwined as he held his phone with his other hand, illuminating the ground and making sure that Y/N didn’t trip over a rock or branch.

“Stop asking so many questions!” Sarah and Y/N giggled while Mitch was too quiet trying his best not to fall on his face. The cars seemed to be getting smaller as they walked further away from the road. mitch ran his hands across his face, realizing that he was getting too paranoid. No one could blame him. It was chilly, dark, and very windy which made it seem like the trees could talk.

“Harry!” Mitch yelled and ran up to the couple. He walked beside them not wanting to be the last.

“Are you scared?” Harry chuckled at his friend's uneasiness.

“Yes” He immediately confessed, “Don’t leave me” he whispered. It was quiet for a bit except for the sound of their steps until they finally detected the sound of water and saw the mood high in the sky. The trees finally ended, revealing the lake and a ridiculously small, secluded beach.

“How did you find this place?”

“On one of those morning runs that you hate so much” Y/N playfully slapped Sebastian on his abdomen.

“Runs?”

“The boys take these ridiculously long runs through the woods during the weekends” Y/N explained to Sarah.

“They aren’t ridiculous” Sebastian protested as they walked closer to the water. “They are healthy!”.

“Did I forget to mention that they start a five in the morning?” Y/N added as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s torso in search of body heat.

“Do you see this?” James raised his hoodie and shirt, showing his sculptured abdomen to everyone. “It makes it all worth it” He winked and took them both off. “Are you guys coming?” James asked as he stripped down to his underwear with Sebastian.

“It’s way too cold” Y/N pointed out as she cuddled closer to Harry.

“Oh please! That never stopped you before!” Sebastian yelled back. They do night dips on Lake Michigan during the summer too. They would alternate houses and spend the sizzling summer days by their pools, riding their bikes and getting ice cream shakes from Dairy Queen, but only if they weren’t traveling.

Sarah ran towards them. She always second-guessed herself and wanted to change it. She was one of those girls that always said no to everything, and tonight was the perfect night to change it. She wanted to be more adventurous and now it was a good start.

Mitch went right after her not wanting to be the odd one out.

“Do you want to go?” Y/N asked as she nuzzled her face in the crook of Harry’s neck. “We don’t have to. We can stay up here and cuddle.”

“That sounds way better than getting pneumonia” Harry chuckled as he ran his hands up her back.

“We are staying!” She yelled back at her friends. “Can we build a fire here?!”

“No! But neither can we swim at eight at night!” Sebastian yelled back so she started building it. She knew that they were going to freeze their asses as soon as they stepped out of the water. Y/N was very confident that Sebastian wouldn’t stop complaining because he was a big crybaby.

So, Harry and Y/N scouted for sticks and piled them on the ground.

“How are we lighting up this shit?” Harry said with a frown, finding an obstacle in her master plan.

“Oh, I got it” She ran up to where James had left his pants. She quickly found a lighter in the front pocket of his pants. She proudly bent down and lit up the fire.

“This is nice,” Y/N said as she sat between his legs and allowed him to wrap his arms around her as they enjoyed the warmth that the bonfire was emitting.

“It is” They could hear their friends laughing and the water being splashed around while they held each other tightly. “Are we ever going to talk about what happened today?” Harry finally asked, feeling a huge weight fall off his shoulders.

“We are” She just had no clue where to start. “I just think today isn’t the best day to do so”.

“When then?” His voice was stern and rough. It was unrecognizable to Y/N. He didn’t understand why she kept dismissing the subject. He could also feel how tense her body had gotten as soon as he touched the subject. Perhaps she was lying to him — he wondered.

“Tomorrow,” She said, “After class. I’ll pick you up” She heart had accelerated like it was about to burst out of her chest. Harry dropped the subject right away. The thought of Harry leaving and giving up on them mortified her for the rest of the night. They huddled around the fire and shared humorous stories and anecdotes about one another. But the laughs and jokes weren’t enough to take her mind away from the scenarios she kept making up in her mind. The thought of Harry leaving stayed in the back of her mind, tormenting her, all through the night.

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gofancyninjaworld · 2 years ago

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OPM Manga Update 228 Review: Horse-Trading

Introduction

HUZZAH! The Psychic Sisters Arc is over at last! It started well, it ended well, but there's only so long I can give a shit about Tatsumaki throwing a tantrum and throwing Saitama through things.

Story

Eh, let's make it short and sweet. The chapter deals with the immediate aftermath of Tatsumaki's tantrum through to the next day or two as the fallout looks set to begin in earnest. Along the way, a few sharp deals are struck.

Meta: Ho ho ho

Blackmailers Anonymous

Something I was very glad to see changed for the Blizzard Group in this arc was them being largely hapless. Earlier, we saw Eyelashes, Mountain Ape, Lily, and a few others valiantly try fighting to prevent Apollo from leaving with Fubuki and Tatsumaki. Amidst the air of general discouragement, Eyelashes leads the surviving group to follow Fubuki with purpose, and they don't back down even faced with Tatsumaki. This chapter, we see yet another Blizzard Group member, an as-yet unnamed guy with a distinctive mohawk, show another talent: hacking. Neither he nor Fubuki are slow on the uptake as to what

Thanks to a little negotiating, Fubuki is able to persuade McCoy to concoct a monster attack to explain away the damage to the Hero Association building, Tatsumaki obliges by scattering the monster parts outside -- and coincidentally smuggles Psykos out in the process.

Tatsumaki brazenly insists on being the one to apprehend the escaped Psykos, leveraging her knowledge that the executives didn't want their cover up blown.

However...

If McCoy is smiling, that's because as far as he's concerned, what Tatsumaki and Fubuki have been up to are amateur hours in the damaging information game. He's happy for them to run their hustle for now.

If the Psychic sisters were more astute, they'd be worrying about the operations chief being more amused than annoyed, but they're amateurs.

Speaking of amateurs, let's spare a moment to look at Gearsper. Lots of people have been giving him the side eye for insisting that Tsukoyomi couldn't possibly be real. We do think the gentleman protests too strenously, but what his angle is remains to be seen.

Enlightented Self-Interest Is Next To Altruism

It's official -- I am never getting over how bottle-blonde baby Forte is. No wonder he goes around with hat and sunglasses: he looks too young to be out unsupervised.

He wisely apologises to Saitama and tells the others that it's in their best interests to ensure that they stay on Saitama's good side. Oh, and feed his pets already. Good -- that's the third day of no food, water, or shelter that Rover and Black Sperm were looking forward to.

That said, there is a very strange translation choice in what Forte says, at least as translated by the fan group. Google Translate and individuals insist that what Forte offers to Saitama (other than his old clothes) is a visit to a restaurant that does delicious food and Saitama crying off sick. It has been translated as Forte offering to go clothes shopping with Saitama and Saitama being creeped out.

I'm waiting for Viz to translate, and if it doesn't agree, believe me, I'm asking questions.

Also acting with enlightened self-interest is Saitama, who asks Genos not to report Tatsumaki on the basis that she deserves her time in the limelight. Of course, we're aware that behind his apparent generosity of spirit is the awareness that shared credit means shared blame.

And a billion yen's worth of blame is really too much for one poor-ass hero.

The Chickenheads Come Home to Roost

Despite everything, the good ship Titanic (um, I mean the Hero Association) seems to have weathered the storm. The public, and their rich donors, are back onside having been reassured that the disturbance was just terrible monsters and all is well.

Well.

With that terrible security of the Hero Association's, it's not been hard for Child Emperor to find out the truth of what was actually going on. To say that he's not impressed is an understatement. All is forgiven, Phoenixman!

The only questions are: 1) How far has he dug? 2) How much damage will he cause?

Speaking of callbacks, remember way back when an inoffensive monster pangolin was systematically skinned alive for its scales until it bloomed into a highly-dangerous demon-level monster? Metal Knight looked cynically on the whole affair.

It looks like selling monsters on the black market is much more widespread than we initially thought. Fubuki having evidence of McCoy personally looking to enrich himself was very unedifying. And he's not the only one. However, that's not the worst of it.

Never mind the personal profit motive -- if they're lucky, the monsters are just going to wealthy individuals keen to have the most exotic pets ever.

If they're unlucky, there's outfits who have plans to use monsters to make weapons. I don't need the webcomic to point that out:

Maybe Drive Knight is ethical and above board (cynical laugh), but some of the outfits developing those weapons could be intending to use them against the Hero Association.

#OPM #review #update 228 #I hope future chapters are also interesting!#Finally some developments #I love the heroes in the manga being so much more switched on and ready to seek personal advantage #it makes everything more interesting #and sharper -- you never know where developments might come from

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fromtheseventhhell · 1 year ago

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George establishing Sansa as an unreliable narrator and then making her the only POV observing one of the biggest schemers in the books is actually so big-brained.

#him saying there's going to be a more important lapse in memory from her in the future...he's really cooking!#there's so much he could do with it and I wonder how far he's going to explore that concept #I think LF is going to get at least one big scheme off in TWOW and it'll be interesting to reread Sansa's chapters to see the hints of it #this is why her not thinking about SW's death doesn't mean she isn't aware of it...she rewrites things and ignores what's uncomfortable #so yes she knows but she just isn't thinking about it cause she's still following LF's plan #but what he told her is likely a cover story for his real intentions...also he /might/ have influenced Sansa on the Tourney #and that could be something that's another step in his actual plans #there are just so many ways that plot could go and we really have no idea cause it was cut from the show #hope we get to see it play out someday 🙏🏾

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pileofsith · 8 months ago

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Hello there,

first of all, I'm wishing you a speedy recovery! Illnesses are always very irritating, especially those which last over a longer period of time, so I hope you'll get better soon. I just watched the trailer for Tales of the Empire (basically season 2 of Tales of the Jedi) and I immediately had to think of you. It seems VERY relevant for your current chapter of the Nameless comic. I don't want to spoiler too much tho. Definitely worth checking out.

Either way, have a nice rest of the day!

Thank you!!

What can I say, Lucasfilm wanted a piece of what I have. 😎

(I love spoilers, I usually actively seek out spoilers, so if anyone feels like sharing them once the animation becomes available, please please do.)

Seriously though, I'm so happy I started the comic pages with Barriss and the Inquisitor before Tales of the Empire was announced, otherwise I'd probably have to change it all, so I don't look like I am jumping on some narrative bandwagon.

There is still a chance the animation reveals something new about Inquisitorius lore or details about the Grand Inquisitor that changes future stuff I had planned for the comic, but we shall see.

#if the Pau'an ever gets a name I already have alterative dialogue prepped for future chapters #I am pretty excited and mildly worried about the animation news lol #I hope they do a really interesting story with the inquisitors I really do #also I now have to crawl out of my hole and catch up with this once it comes out #random rambling #tales of the empire #swr inquisitorius #barriss offee #it was a month ago I was just talking about how come they never made her an inquisitor lol should've mentionrd it sooner #* insert apollo greek god bouncy ball prophecy meme*

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bittercoldbrew · 2 years ago

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thinking about reposting my childermass/oc fic here............

#dont wanna be annoying but also. i could kill a man for some gd feedback out here #and also i restricted my account on a*3 in hopes of avoiding getting my shit stolen by ai #but now i worry that folks who might otherwise be interested cant find it anymore #god i hate the future this shit sucks.#anyway. anyway anyway anyway #john childermass #js&mn #BUT ALSO i started writing this thing fully FIVE YEARS ago and i DO NOT wanna rewrite it all but GODDAMN my writing has IMPROVED since then #uggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh #repost with a caveat like 'please i promise it gets good at like chapter FIFTEEN PLEASE JUST BEAR WITH ME'#ugh

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kitsuneisi · 4 months ago

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I realize a Hermitcraft/Life Series based AU is inherently low on representation of people of color due to the playerbase, and appreciate the intent of adding a Black OC to the DDVAU comic. However, that choice does mean the one Black character we've seen in any of the comics is a villain?

Including more Black OCs who aren't villains, and/or including BigB as a character alongside his fellow Life Series members, would be something to consider to alleviate the implications of "only person of [marginalized identity] is a bad guy"

I understand the concern you present but it is important to remember that DDVAU takes place in an original universe to introduce an original story. The au exists as a way to expand and introduce this universe that we have previously created, where there are major characters, good and bad, of all colors and backgrounds. If u are interested to know more about the original story, here is the cast, ranging from the characters in nexus, the emerald soldiers, and neutral characters, all which we hope we can add in the future episodes. The full original cast includes a lot of marginalized identities on differing sides to create the more fleshed out original world, and not just one Black OC as a villain. Ceecee, the character who appeared in this chapter, is a mutant with mushroom/fungi powers, so his addition is for plot more than anything. He’s more than just an OC made to be a villain in this episode/comic, and has a more fleshed out and complex role in the original story he’s from. That said, we don't want to give spoilers of the other characters and their backstories in this ask, cuz we want to explore it properly in the comic. We want to show the characters of the story (At least their designs) to ease your concerns. DDVAU and the original story, Vigilantes, as we have stated before, is a story about my and maru's experience as latinos, not only in our countries history but also in our experience in english speaking spaces This is just the beginning of the story.

#doody ask!!#doody art!!#ddvau qna

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months ago

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Sandra Newman’s “Julia”

The first chapter of Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four has a fantastic joke that nearly everyone misses: when Julia, Winston Smith's love interest, is introduced, she has oily hands and a giant wrench, which she uses in her "mechanical job on one of the novel-writing machines":

https://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks01/0100021.txt

That line just kills me every time I re-read the book – Orwell, a novelist, writing a dystopian future in which novels are written by giant, clanking mechanisms. Later on, when Winston and Julia begin their illicit affair, we get more detail:

She could describe the whole process of composing a novel, from the general directive issued by the Planning Committee down to the final touching-up by the Rewrite Squad. But she was not interested in the finished product. She 'didn't much care for reading,' she said. Books were just a commodity that had to be produced, like jam or bootlaces.

I always assumed Orwell was subtweeting his publishers and editors here, and you can only imagine that the editor who asked Orwell to tweak the 1984 manuscript must have felt an uncomfortable parallel between their requests and the notional Planning Committee and Rewrite Squad at the Ministry of Truth.

I first read 1984 in the early winter of, well, 1984, when I was thirteen years old. I was on a family trip that included as visit to my relatives in Leningrad, and the novel made a significant impact on me. I immediately connected it to the canon of dystopian science fiction that I was already avidly consuming, and to the geopolitics of a world that seemed on the brink of nuclear devastation. I also connected it to my own hopes for the nascent field of personal computing, which I'd gotten an early start on, when my father – then a computer science student – started bringing home dumb terminals and acoustic couplers from his university in the mid-1970s. Orwell crystallized my nascent horror at the oppressive uses of technology (such as the automated Mutually Assured Destruction nuclear systems that haunted my nightmares) and my dreams of the better worlds we could have with computers.

It's not an overstatement to say that the rest of my life has been about this tension. It's no coincidence that I wrote a series of "Little Brother" novels whose protagonist calls himself w1n5t0n:

https://craphound.com/littlebrother/Cory_Doctorow_-_Little_Brother.htm

I didn't stop with Orwell, of course. I wrote a whole series of widely read, award-winning stories with the same titles as famous sf tales, starting with "Anda's Game" ("Ender's Game"):

https://www.salon.com/2004/11/15/andas_game/

And "I, Robot":

https://craphound.com/overclocked/Cory_Doctorow_-_Overclocked_-_I_Robot.html

"The Martian Chronicles":

https://escapepod.org/2019/10/03/escape-pod-700-martian-chronicles-part-1/

"True Names":

https://archive.org/details/TrueNames

"The Man Who Sold the Moon":

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/05/22/the-man-who-sold-the-moon/

and "The Brave Little Toaster":

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_212

Writing stories about other stories that you hate or love or just can't get out of your head is a very old and important literary tradition. As EL Doctorow (no relation) writes in his essay "Genesis," the Hebrews stole their Genesis story from the Babylonians, rewriting it to their specifications:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/41520/creationists-by-e-l-doctorow/

As my "famous title" stories and Little Brother books show, this work needn't be confined to antiquity. Modern copyright may be draconian, but it contains exceptions ("fair use" in the US, "fair dealing" in many other places) that allow for this kind of creative reworking. One of the most important fair use cases concerns The Wind Done Gone, Alice Randall's 2001 retelling of Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind from the perspective of the enslaved characters, which was judged to be fair use after Mitchell's heirs tried to censor the book:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suntrust_Bank_v._Houghton_Mifflin_Co.

In ruling for Randall, the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals emphasized that she had "fully employed those conscripted elements from Gone With the Wind to make war against it." Randall used several of Mitchell's most famous lines, "but vest[ed] them with a completely new significance":

https://law.justia.com/cases/federal/appellate-courts/F3/268/1257/608446/

The Wind Done Gone is an excellent book, and both its text and its legal controversy kept springing to mind as I read Sandra Newman's wonderful novel Julia, which retells 1984 from the perspective of Julia, she of the oily hands the novel-writing machine:

https://www.harpercollins.com/products/julia-sandra-newman?variant=41467936636962

Julia is the kind of fanfic that I love, in the tradition of both Wind Done gone and Rosenkrantz and Gildenstern Are Dead, in which a follow-on author takes on the original author's throwaway world-building with deadly seriousness, elucidating the weird implications and buried subtexts of all the stuff and people moving around in the wings and background of the original.

For Newman, the starting point here is Julia, an enigmatic lover who comes to Winston with all kinds of rebellious secrets – tradecraft for planning and executing dirty little assignations and acquiring black market goods. Julia embodies a common contradiction in the depiction of young women (she is some twenty years younger than Winston): on the one hand, she is a "native" of the world, while Winston is a late arrival, carrying around all his "oldthink" baggage that leaves him perennially baffled, terrified and angry; on the other hand, she's a naive "girl," who "doesn't much care for reading," and lacks the intellectual curiosity that propels Winston through the text.

This contradiction is the cleavage line that Newman drives her chisel into, fracturing Orwell's world in useful, fascinating, engrossing ways. For Winston, the world of 1984 is totalitarian: the Party knows all, controls all and misses nothing. To merely think a disloyal thought is to be doomed, because the omnipotent, omniscient, and omnicompetent Party will sense the thought and mark you for torture and "vaporization."

Orwell's readers experience all of 1984 through Winston's eyes and are encouraged to trust his assessment of his situation. But Newman brings in a second point of view, that of Julia, who is indeed far more worldly than Winston. But that's not because she's younger than him – it's because she's more provincial. Julia, we learn, grew up outside of the Home Counties, where the revolution was incomplete and where dissidents – like her parents – were sent into exile. Julia has experienced the periphery of the Party's power, the places where it is frayed and incomplete. For Julia, the Party may be ruthless and powerful, but it's hardly omnicompetent. Indeed, it's rather fumbling.

Which makes sense. After all, if we take Winston at his word and assume that every disloyal citizen of Oceania is arrested, tortured and murdered, where would that leave Oceania? Even Kim Jong Un can't murder everyone who hates him, or he'd get awfully lonely, and then awfully hungry.

Through Julia's eyes, we experience Oceania as a paranoid autocracy, corrupt and twitchy. We witness the obvious corollary of a culture of denunciation and arrest: the ruling Party of such an institution must be riddled with internecine struggle and backstabbing, to the point of paralyzed dysfunction. The Orwellian trick of switching from being at war with Eastasia to Eurasia and back again is actually driven by real military setbacks – not just faked battles designed to stir up patriotic fervor. The Party doesn't merely claim to be under assault from internal and external enemies – it actually is.

Julia is also perfectly positioned to uncover the vast blank spots in Winston's supposed intellectual curiosity, all the questions he doesn't ask – about her, about the Party, and about the world. I love this trope and used it myself, in Attack Surface, the third "Little Brother" book, which is told from the point of view of Marcus's frenemy Masha:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531/attacksurface

Through Julia, we come to understand the seemingly omniscient, omnipotent Party as fumbling sadists. The Thought Police are like MI5, an Island of Misfit Toys where the paranoid, the stupid, the vicious and the thuggish come together to ruin the lives of thousands, in such a chaotic and pointless manner that their victims find themselves spinning devastatingly clever explanations for their behavior:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/adamcurtis/entries/3662a707-0af9-3149-963f-47bea720b460

And, as with Nineteen Eighty-Four, Julia is a first-rate novel, expertly plotted, with fantastic, nail-biting suspense and many smart turns and clever phrases. Newman is doing Orwell, and, at times, outdoing him. In her hands, Orwell – like Winston – is revealed as a kind of overly credulous romantic who can't believe that anyone as obviously stupid and deranged as the state's representatives could be kicking his ass so very thoroughly.

This was, in many ways, the defining trauma and problem of Orwell's life, from his origin story, in which he is shot through the throat by a fascist: sniper during the Spanish Civil War:

https://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/soldiers/george-orwell-shot.html

To his final days, when he developed a foolish crush on a British state spy and tried to impress her by turning his erstwhile comrades in to her:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orwell%27s_list

Newman's feminist retelling of Orwell is as much about puncturing the myth of male competence as it is about revealing the inner life, agency, and personhood of swooning love-interests. As someone who loves Orwell – but not unconditionally – I was moved, impressed, and delighted by Julia.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/28/novel-writing-machines/#fanfic

#pluralistic #reviews #books #orwell #george orwell #nineteen eighty-four #1984 #little brother #fanfic #remix #gift guide #science fiction #sandra newman

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bamsara · 2 months ago

Note

(Resending this cause I think my last one got buried under all the new Chapter asks)

Hi Bamsara! I wanted to say I’m a huge fan of TROD and it has inspired me to work on my own COTL fan fiction.

When it comes to your own writing, has there ever been moments where you felt like you were treating the characters harshly or unfairly?

I know that seems silly because they’re characters so they can’t actually be harmed by your writing and adversity is needed to help make a story interesting, but I know it can be easy to get attached, especially to characters like Narinder and Lambert.

Right off the top of my head, even though it hasn't been polished or posted yet, I def feel like future chapters are going to treat Kallamar pretty badly because of the Lamb's anger, and I hope no one thinks I hate that squid cause he's just a lil fishy. But he's def gonna be on the recieving end of sheep anger

Generally? Maybe not unfairly more so as harshly. Some of these characters have done things that would deserve due karma, but the delivery is rough

Also, I need to write them as such, but Lambert handles wayyy more stress wise than what is healthy and are hardly given the reprieve from the current stressors (taking care of the flock, reviving the bishops, Narinder's antics, ect) but with the communication and development coming along there's going to be a future where burden is lifted from their shoulders and they'll be the ones getting taken care of more equally

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fanttasttica · 5 months ago

Text

Strawberry tarts

Rhysand x reader Living in the Autumn court isn't nice, especially if you are female. Arranged marriages are common, so it wasn't surprising it also happened to you. What of course caught you off guard is that your future husband is Rhysand, High lord of the Night court, who is probably the most dangerous man alive. You heard horror stories about him and his court, but are these stories true? Warnings: misogyny, arranged marriage Word count: 8690 (oops)

Being the daughter of a nobleman in Autumn court wasn't something you would wish for. Truth to be told, it is quite the opposite actually. It is a common knowledge that when a female is born in this court, her only purpose in life is to be wed, often at a very young age. She is raised to dance, sing, entertain and obey her husband. She should do anything he wants, be his perfect little wife and of course, birth as many children, preferably boys, as possible. This is how your mother was raised and therefore, how you were raised. Your parents didn't love each other, a very few people in Autumn court loved their partners. And you knew.. maybe one? Two? It is maybe not that surprising that you no longer believed in love. It was better not to. So you could prevent being disappointed. The only thing you were slightly hoping for is for your husband to be at least a little kind to you and leave no marks on your body, unlike Beron, your High lord, did on his wife.

The feeling of accomplishment couldn't possibly miss your mother. In the end, she was marrying you off to Rhysand, High lord of the Night court. You still weren't sure how that happened. Your father was Beron's close friend, a very important member of his court. From what you were told, you understood that the High lord of night wanted to secure a peace between courts. In the past one engagement already happened, but wasn't successfully sealed in marriage. You heard stories about Morrigan and Eris, Beron's oldest son, an heir. Their story happened many years before you were even born and there still was some tension. Not wanting to risk another female from the Night court to change her mind, they probably decided to try it the opposite way and provide a female from the Autumn court from a man from the Night. And that man happened to be the High lord himself.

Your wedding gown was modest. A little bit wider skirt, plain without anything to make it more interesting. Neckline up to the neck. White, symbol of purity. This dress was making you anxious. They were suffocating you, or maybe was it the thing they represented? Marriage. Today, you are going to marry probably the most dangerous man in Prythian. You are going to be his wife. His property. You were terrified of the unknown. If you were to be wed to some lord from your court, you would at least know how cruel they were, but about him.. You knew nothing other than his title and name. And that many people feared him. But was he really that bad? Were they telling you these stories because they wanted to warn you or just scared you into submission? Maybe he was secretly kind? You didn't know the answers to your question and you certainly weren't going to get them before you two would be married.

As you stood before the doors that were going to open in a matter of minutes and lead you to the new chapter of your life, you put a mask on your face. You were determined to not let them see your fear. “Don't mess anything up.” Your father hissed into your ear, as he stood beside you, ready to walk you down the aisle. “I won't”, you replied, trying to convince him and also yourself. You didn't have the chance to say anything more, not that you actually had something to say to your father, before the doors finally opened.

There were many guests, who were trying to get a better look at you and, while they stood on both sides as you walked down the aisle. Your heart was pounding fast in your chest and your head was ringing, but you forced yourself to walk forward. You avoided looking at your future husband until the last second, however, when your father finally let go of you and placed your hand into the other, warm one, you looked up and then.. your heart practically stopped. He was gorgeous. His purple eyes, shining like stars in the sky, were looking at you with kindness, as if they were trying to convince you that everything will be better from now on. And you really really wanted to believe them.

The rest of the ceremony went quiet quickly. You said your vows and exchanged a kiss, well only on a cheek, which was a little bit disappointing but at the same time, it was a relief, because at the end, you didn't want to have your first real kiss in front of this massive audience. Now it was time for a party and that was actually nice. The attention of the guests turned from you to drinks, food, music and dance. You could breathe calmly for the first time today, even when your new husband was sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel his warmth, his scent and power that was radiating from him. Surprisingly, it wasn't scaring you at all. You should be scared of it, of him, that is for sure, but still.. you weren't and ironically, that was something that was scaring you a little bit. “You should eat something”, a velvet voice came from your husband, as you turned to look at him. “Are you not hungry? It is.. a long time since breakfast and of course the ceremony.. Or if you don't like this, I Can arrange something else for you. Whatever you would like.” Looking down on your untouched plate, touched by his kind offer, you decided to speak to him, for the first time. Wel.. for the first time since the ceremony, during which you promised him our loyalty and obedience. “No, but thank you, this.. will do.” You smiled, feeling a little bit shy, as you took your first bite. Citrus roasted duck with crispy potatoes, it wasn't that bad and it was true you should eat, as Rhys said, but your appetite was greatly affected by your nerves. You ate about a third of your plate, before putting your fork and knife down again, still feeling his eyes on you. “That is all?” he sounded surprised, but you only shrugged in response. “I am not that hungry today”, meeting his eyes. There was a hint of understanding. “Perhaps tomorrow I can take you to some restaurant in Velaris. To.. try something new, eat properly. Don't worry, I know what is good” as he flashed his smile at you, you were a little bit confused. “Velaris? What is that?” You never heard of it. Was it some restaurant? He replied simply, “Your new home.”

After hearing those awful things about your husband, you never expected his home to be so.. beautiful. No, magical is actually a better word. You heard about some place called Hewn city. It was described like a dark unwelcoming place, but this was quite the opposite. This city, Velaris, seemed peaceful, full of the happiness of its citizens. After winnowing, Rhysand, as he insisted you to call him, instead of My lord, brought you to this room. Your new room in your new home. It was.. strange to not be in your family's house. Knowing that if you were to go down into the living room, they wouldn't be there. Instead, there would be a bunch of a little bit scary and tall,well.. except Amren, people you knew almost nothing about. As Rhysand told you, many of them were not actually living there, but sometimes it looked like they did and since you didn't know what to think about it, you decided simply not to. Instead, you took a bath, with bubbles in it. Know you smelled like lavenders, while you brushed your hair, looking in the mirror and waiting for Rhysand. As your mother told you the night before, he was supposed to come and make you a women, whatever that meant. Your lack of knowledge wasn't helping to calm down your nerves, as you waited for him. But he never came that night. When you woke up the next day, the sun was already in the sky and birds were singing outside your window. It seemed like a nice morning, calm, until you heard someone almost shouting down in the gardens. To cover yourself up, you took a prepared robe, lying on a chair next to your king sized bet. Maybe you should not have been so curious, but wanting to know what was happening, brought you to a smaller balcony, which was connected to your room. Leaning to a railing, so you could see what was going on, you saw two mens and one woman. Now, actually sawing them, you recognized them immediately. They were at the wedding yesterday, High lords closest friends, his Inner circle. “I am deeply sorry if they woke you up, I told them to wait repeatedly, but.. they are too stubborn.” That velvet voice once again, like music to your ears, brought your attention to the left, where you saw another small balcony. There was a table, two chairs, one currently occupied by the High lord himself. He was drinking coffee, looking at you with a little smile. “It is okay. It's time to wake up anyways.” You didn't mind. “Maybe, but I wanted you to sleep in a little bit. Yesterday was a big day. Only if someone would listen to me for once and not ignore everything I say in my own court.” He raised his words at the end of his sentence, clearly talking to the group below. “Oh common Rhysie, this isn't fair. We only wanted to finally meet your beautiful wife, since you decided yesterday to only keep her for yourself.” The general's voice was provocative, which was new for you. Beron wouldn't tolerate it, however innocently it sounded. “Yeah, that wasn't very nice, Rhys.” That female, Morrigan, said with a grin on her face. The third one, Azriel, turned his attention immediately towards you, ignoring how his friends were taunting your husband.. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a hint of encouraging smile in his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine. It is nice to meet you. All of you.” You smiled politely, looking from Azriel, to Morrigan and lastly Cassian.

After freshening your face and dressing up in a nice and elegant dress, you decided to be brave and go downstairs to eat breakfast. You were quite hungry, understandably, since you didn't eat that much yesterday. And you also wanted to get to know the others a little bit more. After your earlier encounter, it was more than clear that they weren't leaving, until they had the chance to speak to you first.

Walking in the hall and to the dining room was easy, thanks to the cauldron and you also had time to look around a house a little bit more. It was elegant here, the furniture looked really expensive. There were some portraits hanging. On the first one you saw, there was a whole Inner circle, then Rhysand with a crown on his head, you suspected it was painted on the day or day after he became High lord, and next to you, there was a portrait of two women. One looked solder, barely off age and the other one was clearly her mother. Although you never met them and couldn't remember their names, you recognized some similarities in their faces and Rhysand's. “My mother and sister..” Rhysand appeared next to you in a second you were absently looking at the two womens. “It is a pity they aren't here to meet you. My sister always wanted another sister, so they could make fun of me together and I am sure my mother would love you as if you were her actual daughter.” A little bit surprised at his statement, you looked at his handsome face. “How can you know? We barely.. know each other and those are some strong words.” There was a hint of mistrust in your voice. “I just know..”

The breakfast was delicious and others seemed really nice and friendly, which caught you off guard once again. Cassian, however scary he could appear, was one of the funniest people in the world, telling jokes and stories about everyone in the room and what they experienced together in all those centuries. Morrigan was the person who matched his personality perfectly. Although you didn't expect them to be like this, you were actually having a nice time. It was so different from the breakfast you usually had at home. Azriel along with Amren were a little bit quieter, but still friendly towards you and they tried to make you feel welcome. And Rhysand.. Actually you weren't sure what to think of him. After your little chat in the hall, you came to breakfast together and he helped you sit by pushing your chair. He was behaving like a true gentleman, completely opposite to what they told you in Autumn court. You were pulled to reality from thinking by Morrigan. “Y/N you simply must come with me today. I plan to go shopping. I need some new dress and you definitely too, because females just can not have enough dresses. And after that we can maybe go to this little bakery, they have the best sweets.” She was trying to persuade you to accompany her. You smiled at her, touched that she wanted to spend more time with you. Maybe she was going to be your first friend here? Well officially. Unofficially you started liking them all. “Well, I would like to join you,” you said truthfully, “If it's okay, of course?” You added as you looked over your husband, whose purple eyes were watching you. “Of course it is okay. You are free to do whatever your heart decides. Buy everything you need or simply want.” He smiled at you, looking over at Morrigan. “I am sure my cousin will more than happily be at your assistance, especially, I will be paying.”

“Morrigan, I just do not need so many things. This is getting really absurd.” You said after trying on maybe ten dresses. And many skirts and pants before. Yes, you could wear pants here. Another shock for you, since this was unacceptable in your home court. “Oh my dear friend, we barely started. I know you have many dresses from Autumn court, but now you are in the Night court. You need to look like it and more importantly, you need to feel comfortable. So now hush and tell me the truth. Do you really like to wear something like this? Or you simply were taught you have to wear clothes like this, although you do not like how it looks or how comfortable it is?” You knew from her face that lying wasn't the opportunity, so you sighed. “It.. doesn't really feel like me and.. it is not comfortable that much.” However simple it sounded, this was a big step for you, since you were always taught to not complain about anything, not having your own opinion. And something in Morrigan's face told you, she was having the same thoughts as you.

Leaving with three bags in each hand, you finally left the store. The amount of money you left there was enormous, but Morrigan was assuring you, Rhysnad wouldn't mind, so you decided to believe her and relax a little bit. Well, you surely made the owner happy and your closet fuller. You went to the bakery and bought a delicious strawberry tart, your favorite treat, and now you were just walking around the city, enjoying the sunny day and your new blossoming friendship. “It was an amazing day Morrigan, I am very thankful for you. It means a lot that you are so .. friendly to me.” You said a little bit shyly. “Oh Y/N.. It's been my pleasure. You are Rhysand's wife, one of us. My new friend. But don't you dare to think this day is over, we have one more shop we need to visit.” Her eyes sparkled in mischief. Only if you knew what was coming.

“Oh you can not mean this seriously!” You gasped, horrified, while looking at the next shop your friend picked. It was highly inappropriate for you to visit a place like this. “Oh, but I mean. Don't worry, you will be thanking me one day.”

Your day with Morrigan was fun, but the next day, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Your feets were hurting, your head was hurting. You felt like she talked the hole in it. But inside you knew, you would be very happy if she would take you out soon again. And you also knew that if you really were to stay in your bed all day, you would be bored out of your mind after an hour. You need something to focus on, something to do. And then you remembered the strawberry tarts you had yesterday. Not wanting to go to the city, you decided to bake them on your own today. Fortunately, you knew the receipt already by your heart and in the kitchen was everything you needed. Nuala and Cerridwen, twins you met for the first time today, offered to bake that treat for you, but after some persuading, they agreed to only help you a little bit and let you roam in the kitchen mostly as you pleased.

The two females, who were accompanying you, were quiet and shy, choosing their words wisely. THe time you spent with them was like a silent dance, but not uncomfortable. It was rather peaceful and warm, almost like in home you never had but dreamed about having, when you were little. You were actually finishing the last one, when you heard a loud and funny voice that belonged to no one else than Cassian. “You are a lucky one Rhys. What would I do to have a beautiful wife like you, who also cooks, so the whole house smells nicely.” You blushed at his comment, not meeting any of their eyes. “For that complement, I think you deserve to have the first one to try it.” You said, taking the plate and placing the tart on it, along with a small spoon and handing it to him. You made enough tarts for all of them, wanting to only kill the time, but also make something nice, since they welcomed you with open arms. While Rhys said nothing, he was smiling at you, eyes shining adoringly, which caused you to blushed even more than before. “It is delicious, can I have one or two more?” Too busy looking at your husband, you didn't even notice that Cassian already managed to eat his first portion.

Instead of one or two more strawberry tarts, Cassian ate five in a few minutes. Looking at him surprised with Rhysand standing next to you, almost brushing his arm on you, he said “Cassian has a great appetite. I believe he would eat everything you made today, if he was allowed”, sounding amused. You giggled at this comment, meeting his gaze. “Are you speaking from personal experience?” He chuckled “I already spent many centuries with him.. Believe me when I say that feeding Cassian is pricey.” Cassian, not able to speak while having mouth full, gave his friend a middle finger. During your conversation with Rhysand, you took another plate and placed another tart there, offering it to Rhysand. “If that is the case, I think you should try it before Cassian eats it.” You saw the hesitation in his eyes, that went from your face to the plate and back. You chuckled a little bit nervously and your smile fell instantly, when he shook his head. “No, thank you. I.. don't have time. Perhaps some other day. I have to go now.” And with that, he simply vanished into the darkness.

Rhysand's sudden departure left you hurt and sad. Was something you said wrong? Was he not a fan of sweets? Was he allergic and you offended him because you didn't know? You blinked once, twice, before putting the plate on the kitchen counter. “That was.. weird.” Cassian spoke suddenly. You did not reply to him, thinking only about your conversation with Rhysand and blaming yourself for doing something wrong, although you didn't know what. But you were sure that your mother would be disappointed by this. You could almost hear her voice. “ Y/N?” You turned to Cassian. “You did nothing wrong, trust me. I don't really know what happened, but I promise you, he will come to his senses and apologize. Hopefully really soon.” You still weren't so sure about that and your mood wasn't so much better, but you offered him a smile, thankful for his kind words. “Here, take this plate too..”

You spent the previous day in the kitchen, cleaning, although Nuala and Cerridwenn insisted they would do it by themselves, you wanted to help. Cassian kept you company for the rest of the day, taking you to the gardens, telling you more stories about everyone in the inner circle, before taking you to your bedroom. He did manage to lighten your mood a little bit, so when you went to bed, no sad thoughts about Rhysand came, only sweet dreams.

The second time in a row, there was a present on your bedside table, when you woke up. Yesterday, you thought that Morrigan left there for you a beautiful necklace with a moonstone in it, you saw through the glass in one jewelry store which you based on on your walk. Morrigan was trying to persuade you to buy it, but it seemed so pricey that you decided not to. You already spent so much of Rhysands money.. But now you suspected that perhaps you were wrong by guessing it was her, who bought it. No, you knew you were wrong, since today you found a plate with different delicious looking sweets on your table, alongside with a note.

“I know this apology isn't enough and that you also deserve an explanation, why did I leave yesterday so suddenly, but I can not give you that yet. I hope you understand and I promise you.. You did nothing wrong. - yours Rhys ”

After reading that note from Rhysand and eating what he sent you, you felt a little bit better. You were not angry at him, rather at yourself, still not knowing what you did was frustrating. Nuala and Cerridwen were busy and since you couldn't find anyone else, you just wandered around a house, trying to find something to do. You were not in the mood to bake like yesterday, you did not have any work you could do. There was only you and your thoughts. About how your life changed, surprisingly to the better, about your new friends.. about Rhysand. You were thinking especially about him and your friends, Cassian and Morrigan. Did they report your conversation to him? After reading that note for the second time, you saw a similar formulation of words like Cassian used the previous day. It was weird. You were dying to know what that meant, but you were too shy and embarrassed to ask anyone. Another reason why you needed to find something to do. Otherwise, you would probably go crazy because of these thoughts that plague your mind.

After another few minutes, you found a small library. At first, you hesitated a little bit, but since the doors were unlocked, you went inside. There were mainly books about the history of Prythian, courts, High lords of current and past time, books on wars and tactics, but in the small corner, you found a small shelf with maybe ten or twenty romance books. Your mother did not allow you to read them. The only ones you were allowed to read were about good behavior, what it takes to be a good wife and similar topics and after some time, when you slowly began realizing that true love will probably never be something you are going to have, you stopped begging her to let you read at least one of them, so you could see how it looks between man and women who love each other truly. But now, with your new freedom and with a new glimmer of hope inside your chest, you picked the first one, sat in the chair that was standing next to a window and began to read.

The time was passing rather quickly. You were almost in the middle of the story and not paying attention to your surroundings, when you heard someone unintentionally hitting the table and then cursing slightly. You turned quickly, shocked by this interruption, to find Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, as he turned his attention to you. “Yeah, ehm.. Don't worry. I am fine.” You raised your eyebrow, not quite believing him, since he was Spymaster, known for being stealthy and composed.. Nothing like now. That is when you realize he is holding something in his hands. Book. He sees where your eyes are and smiles slightly. “I guess there is no hiding anymore. I am.. returning this.” He says, coming to the shelf where you took the book and placing it on its right place. You giggle a little. “If it helps you to feel better, you are the last one I would suspect of reading romantic books. I guess you should never really judge the book by its cover.” He nods, sitting on the next free chair in front of you. “I think very few people would dare to even think that I like reading these. But sometimes..” He fell silent and you smiled knowingly. “It is nice to read about true love and dream that maybe someday it will also come to you.”

It did not surprise you, when the next day when you woke up, you found a brand new book on your bedside table, alongside with a note.

“I hope you will like this one, although I am not an expert in this field, it's apparently very popular. I would also like to take you to dinner tonight, of course only if you want to and will not be in too much exciting part of your book. - yours Rhys”

Of course you did say yes to his invitation. It would be rude if not and also against everything your mother taught you. And what is more important, you wanted to go. After all, he was your husband, you wanted to get to know him better. What did you even know about him? That he was Hugh lord, lived in Velaris, he loves his friends and is kind. And maybe does not like strawberry tarts, but that is everything You wanted to know more. What he liked, what he did not like, his hobbies.. Everything. Anything. Anything he was willing to share with you.

Your mind was once again full of him. Not being able to concentrate and not sure what to even wear, you were more than happy to meet Morrigan at the breakfast. It was only the two of you, a perfect opportunity to ask her to help you prepare for tonight. She agreed, happy, that you asked her and was currently styling your hair. “Don't you think it is too much?” You asked hesitantly. She made you wear a purple dress, a color that matched your husband's eyes perfectly. And it also went really well with that necklace he gave you a couple of days ago. “Not at all, I think you look perfect. Rhys will not be able to take his eyes off you.” There was a slight hint of provocation in her voice, which made your cheeks turn bright red. “Anddd, I am done. You look stunning Y/N!” As you looked in the mirror, you started to believe her.

You were waiting in your room, talking with Morrigan, when you heard a knock on your door. Not wasting any time, you went to open them to relieve Rhys standing here, dressed in a suit that matched your dress and with a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands.”Hello, Y/N darling.” There was a smirk on his face, so significant for him. “Hello.” You answered, looking down at the flowers he handed to you. “For you. Their beauty is nothing compared to yours, but I still hope you will find them at least a little beautiful.” You blushed at his comment, starting to hate how easily he can affect you. “Thank you, they are really beautiful. Perfect.” You took them, smelling their sweet scent, before Morrian came closer and offered to put them in a vase, before turning to face Rhys with a grin on her face. “Make sure she is home before midnight.”

Still chuckling a little bit at Morrigan's last comment, you took Rhysand's hand he offered you and stepped outside your beautiful home into the night. It was perfect. The weather was amazing and the streets you walked through smelled of lemon, sea and mystery. “After everything you have done for me, especially for those gifts.. I think that I should be the one inviting you tonight.” You said, starting a quick conversation before you would get too nervous or better say aroused due to how close he was. You could feel his warmth and smell his undoubtedly expensive cologne. He chuckled slightly, “Oh my darling, don't you ever think about that. You deserve those things. You deserve everything you could possibly want and I will spend my life ensuring that, as I promised you at our wedding.” He reminded you and you shook your head, not understanding, how could anyone think of him as a cruel person. “You.. exaggerate. Not wanting to give up so easily, you decided to speak. “I will be honest.. Before we got married, I was worried. However, after you took me here and I had a chance to get to know you better and of course, your friends too.. I think.. I think I really like it here. You made me feel welcome and happy more than I was ever before in my life.” You said, looking at the ground. Maybe a little bit ashamed. After all, your mother said that no perfect woman would ever complain and although you didn't directly, you indicated it quite clearly. “So, what I wanted to tell you is that I am really grateful. For your gifts, for.. everything” You looked him in the eyes, smiling slightly. At first, he didn't say anything, there was a pity in his eyes and what you didn't see was that inside he was fuming and wanted to punish everyone in the Autumn court. But not to scare you, he simply took your hand and kissed it gently. “You are welcome, my darling.”

When you came to the restaurant, after a short walk through the city, which you enjoyed, you found the place completely empty, well except for people who worked here, of course. Giving Rhysand a questioning look, he answered immediately “I wanted us to have privacy.” He shrugged, as if it was nothing and you blinked at him. “Try to tell me ever again, that you do not exaggerate.” You mumbled to yourself quietly.

You were full. After the appetizer, soup and main course, you felt like moving wasn't an option for you anymore. When the waiter asked, if you wanted a dessert, you looked over at Rhys. In your eyes, there was an obvious answer to this question - no. But he chuckled. “Yes please, bring us two pieces of your lemon and lavender cake.” Taking a sip of your wine, you sighed. “A new information for me.. You don't understand signals very well.” He simply leaned back on a chair with a smirk on his handsome face. “Oh, but I do. What I however can not do is leave this restaurant without you trying their best dessert. Everyone loves it.” You raised your eyebrow. “You do too?” He nodded, now leaning a little bit closer to you. “About that day when I.. left so suddenly.” He paused, unsure what to say, but you didn't pressure and gave him time. “It is okay, if you don't want to share it with me. I understand.” There was a hesitant smile on your face and in your mind, you were screaming the opposite words that left your mouth. He shook his head. “I do. I want to share it with you, but.. I think that for a while it is better not to. You are still new here and are only settling in your new home. I don't want to overwhelm you.” You nodded, trying to be as understanding as possible, before the waiter came and handed you your piece of cake.

“Are you full?” Rhys asked for about a second time since you left the restaurant and you just laughed. “Yes, I am full, don't worry.“ You assured him, squeezing his hand a little bit. You had a great time with him and it was sad that your night was coming to an end. During this time, you also became more relaxed around him. Someone who wouldn't know you and saw you walking with him in the streets right now, wouldn't probably guess the situation you were in. It seemed real. This.. something, what became growing between you. “I'm just making sure.” He shrugged, at the same time as you thought something about mother hen. “Do you want to go flying?” He asked suddenly, catching you off guard. “Flying?” You asked. He smiled and within seconds, large wings appeared on his back. You gasped in astonishment. “They are beautiful..” Your voice was low. Wanting to feel them underneath your fingers, you reached out to them, but he stopped you. Gently taking your hand in his bigger one. “Ehm.. They are quite sensitive.” He tried to explain. “Oh, I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you!” Your eyes widened, apologizing. “No, you wouldn't hurt me. It is only when something touches Illyrian wings.. That person can become aroused.” At this moment, you wanted to sink into the ground more than ever before.

Although you were embarrassed, you still agreed to fly, wanting to see the city from above. As your husband took you in his arms, your heart started beating faster than usual. You wanted to sink into his touch. Smell his perfume, do something you never did before. You weren't sure what it was. This feeling was new for you. But you were enjoying it. “Hold on tight.” Rhys said, moments before he finally took you in the sky. His sudden movement makes you close your eyes, but his movement becomes steady, you open them, taking in the beauty of the city below. It was perfect. This night, Rhysand. Everything. This night was everything.

You spent the next few days with your husband. From that night he took you to dinner, you found yourself yearning for his company. At first, you were a little hesitant, not wanting to disturb him with your presence. After all, he was High lord with responsibilities. But he seemed to enjoy your company as much as you did his, so when he one day took you to his office, there was a new set of comfortable sofa and armchair, next to a window. Perfect place for reading you began to enjoy. From that day, you went to his after breakfast regularly. Sometimes you two were talking, other days on the other hand, you spent this time in a comfortable silence. Eating lunch together also became some sort of habit of yours. Slightly different were evenings. You once again went shopping with Morrigan, who was very curious about your relationship with her cousin. Sometimes you spend your evenings with Cassian or the whole Inner circle, sitting, talking and drinking Rhysands expensive old wine, while sitting close to him. This was also your plan for this evening, until Morrigan decided that it is time for you to visit Rita's.

Since Morrigan did a really good job by picking your dress for your dinner date with Rhys, you decided to trust her also this time, but seeing what she prepared for you to wear, you began asking her sanity. This dress were.. interesting. They were black and like the night sky they sparkled. As if there were tiny little stars. And they also were very short, which was new for you. Although you did started dressing differently than in the Autumn court, you even tried pants and really liked them, but.. The only thing that was calming you down was that she was wearing a dress of similar length, only in red and with a deeper neckline. “If you were not Rhys's wife, I can guarantee you Y/N, that I would do anything to take you home with me tonight.” You blushed and laughed and the same time. “I mean it, you look sexy! Where were you hiding that ass, girl?” You shook your head. “Morrigan, tell me the truth. Are you drunk already?” You raised your eyebrow at her and she grinned in response. “Me? Drunk? Always.”

The plan was to get ready with Morr and meet guys and Amren at Rita's. You were shocked that Amren even agreed on going. Although you were in Velaris a couple of weeks already, you barely spoke to her. But Morrigan assured you, that is how Amren simply is and so you never questioned it again. When you arrived, the place was full. There was a body on body, people were dancing, drinking and singing, alongside with a singer on a little stage. If you were not holding Morrigan's hand for your dear life, you would probably get lost and never be found again. Luckily, you managed to find the others rather quickly. They were sitting at the table in the corner, not so far away from the dance floor, already with some drinks. “Look who finally decided to show up.” Cassian greeted you with a sneering remark on which Morrigan replied by giving him a middle finger, which was normal for them, as you found out some time ago. “Oh shut up, Cass. Maybe you should sometimes be late and at least try to take care of your appearance.” You began ignoring these two, since their bickering would probably last all night. You rather said hello to the other three people who were sitting here, Amren, Azriel and lastly Rhysand. You felt his eyes on you from the second you showed up here and you knew that you would be staring at him all night probably too. He was wearing black. The buttons of his shirt were open, so you could see part of his muscular chest. “Hello darling, you look ravishing.” He smirked at you hungrily.

You were having your third drink. Normally you would take one, beautiful you were to survive this night, you needed more. It was just too much. People were almost having sex right on the floor, music was so sensual and Rhys.. His normal gentleman's behavior probably stayed at home today. His large warm hand was on your exposed thigh, striking it gently, each time going a little bit more up. As the time passed by, Morrigan went dancing with some girl she met at the bar, when she was going for her second glass of wine. Cassian disappeared to the dance floor and Amren was having a conversation with Azriel. That left you and Rhysand practically alone, not that you were complaining. You were only still rather shy for this. The band started playing some slow music, giving the dancers an opportunity to slow down their rhythm and enjoy each other's touches more intensely. That is when Rhysand leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Would you like to dance?” The way his breath brushed lightly against your neck gave you goosebumps, but you still nodded slowly.

When you took Rhysand's hand, he led you on a dance floor. Some people around you probably recognized him, since they tried to give you more space, but there still were many people around you, not that you were paying them any attention. No. You had eyes for only one person and that person was your husband, who was holding you close. His arms were around your waist as you moved slowly on the floor, grinding at each other like fools. If you would look back on your table, you would be able to see that both Cassian and Morrigan returned and all of your new friends were currently toasting, pleased with how things had turned out between the two of you, perhaps thanks to their efforts.

Not being able to hold back anymore, you looked from Rhysand's eyes on his lips, biting yours. It was a simple invitation for him. The one he gladly accepted, as he firstly gently stroked your lip with his thumb, before slowly leaning to you, giving you time to change your mind, before he finally brought your lips together in a slow, long wanted kiss. It lasted maybe a couple of seconds, but it was enough for the mating bond to snap for you. Like a golden thread it led straight to Rhysand and when you looked him surprised in the eyes, you knew, you felt, that this wasn't something new for him.

As the first hint of hurt and sadness appeared in your eyes, the sudden wave of darkness surrounded you and carried the two of you home. The first thing you did was to take a step back, trying to get away from him. “Why? Why didn't you tell me this before?” He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I didn't want to overwhelm you or scare you. I thought it was better to not tell you anything for some time. “ He started, not so good. “How long did you know?” You asked quietly, wanting to know something more before deciding what to say to him. “A little bit more than. Almost two years.” You gasped. Hurt by him sat on the chair, refusing to look at him. “All my life, someone.. Someone else always decided what was good for me. What I should know, what not. When we were getting married, I thought that.. It will be the same with you, but during these last weeks you were.. So kind to me that I really started believing I can trust you, but now? I.. I don't know. You knew you were my mate for so long and you did not tell me? Why? What did I do to offend you so much? Am I not good enough?” He began shaking his head rapidly, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “No, no that's not it. You are perfect, believe me. You are everything I ever wanted, what I dreamed of.” Releasing breath, with teary eyes, you looked at him. “Then tell me.. How exactly did you find out, so you decided it was better for me to not know?”

The room was silenced, as Rhys poured himself a drink. He offered you one, but you refused it. You already had enough today and you wanted to concentrate on what is he saying. He took a deep breath before beginning. “I was in the Autumn court, trying to sort out some problems Beron had at that time. He held a ball, where I was invited, maybe you remember it.” You nodded, only for confirmation that you did. “The ball was just beginning, when I saw you enter with your parents by your side. I remember our eyes met, only for a brief moment, but in that moment, the bond snapped for me, but clearly not for you.. That same night I began to plan. I asked Azriel if he could find out as many information about you and your family as he could and in the morning, he already handed me a whole file about you. I learned your name and about your situation. Considering how many people in Autumn court behave, for me it was not surprising that your parents were not so.. good people. You were so young, you are still young and your father was already trying to find a partner for you, so he could marry you off for his gain. I knew that I could not let that happen. Not only because of my personal interest, but because most males in Autumn court abuse their partners and see their wifes only as breeding mare.” There was a disgust in his voice. “So I immediately came to Beron and proposed the idea of marriage between our two courts. Trying to win him on my side, I said I wanted to fix how last time something like this was about to happen but it did not, affected relationship between our courts. I told him he could even pick a list of some suitable girls, hoping you would be there, since Beron was close to your father. Well he agreed and also luckily for me, included you on that list. I tried to not be too eager to marry you, because I did not want to cause any suspicion. So I waited a few weeks before choosing. Then some paper work was needed and it took time before the wedding planning could finally began. I wanted nothing more than to go to your house and just took you with me to get you out of that place, but I was worried that I would put you in danger. Beron is awful, I believe I don't have to explain it to you.That is also why I didn't tell you before. Why didn't I engage in anything.” You nodded, understanding what he did and you were thankful to him, but it still hurt a little. “But why didn't you tell me anything after I came here?” You dared to ask. He swallowed nervously. “You were so young and you were already going through a lot. I knew you were probably scared of me, scared of this place at first. Maybe my decision wasn't so right as I thought it was, but please believe me that I did it with only the best intentions.”

You knew Rhysand probably really didn't mean to do anything bad by his decisions, but you still had a right to be hurt and disappointed. It's been two days since the revelation and you spent them in your room. Nuala and Cerridwen brought you each food. Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel also visited you, telling you that they understand why you are angry with Rhysand. You also found out that although you thought otherwise, they didn't know about the bond. They suspected it, yes, but he didn't tell them anything. They found out after you didn't show up at breakfast the day after you went together to Rita's. They of course saw you disappear with Rhys, but thought it was for other purposes. You thanked them for their words of support and their visits and also begged them not to tell Rhysand anything, which they promised. You deep inside knew that you would forgive him and move on. He was not only your mate, but also your husband. Husband you began to love, which you realized after your argument.

Your love for him is also one of the factors that drove you mad. You stopped believing that love existed. You felt like a fool that you, after everything that you have been taught, after what you saw, after everything you have been through.. You did in fact fell in love. You were so confused, about your feelings, what you thought you should feel, what happened.. That you welcomed knocking on your door gratefully.

You would never suspect that behind the door, there would be Amren standing, asking if she could come inside to talk to you. You of course led her, closing the door behind her, gesturing on chairs where she can sit, while you returned to your soft bed. “Girl, I am probably not the person to tell you this, but I think you need to pull yourself together.” You would lie if you would say that her words did not shock you a little bit. She wasn't even trying to chat a little before dropping this on you. “I know and understand that you are hurt by what Rhys did, he is an idiot sometimes, but be honest with yourself. By this, you are only punishing both of you and why?” She shook her head. “I have been alive for.. a couple of thousands years. I saw many people get together and then break up. But I do not think this is what either of you want, am I right?” You sighed and nodded. You will not leave Rhysand because of this. You knew that, however you weren't sure what she was trying to tell you by this. “So.. If that is not the case, why are you doing this? Why waste time by being angry at each other.I think you both went through a lot to be this stupid.” And in that moment, you understood.

Not wasting any time, you quickly hugged Amren and before she could even react, you started running to the kitchen. She was right after all. Your life wasn't easy, so why are you making yourself miserable even more? Rhys made a mistake, but that happens. But what you realized is that you love him enough to forgive him. You loved him. That warm feeling spreads throughout your whole body. And thanks to that, it all seemed so simple.

At first, you simply wanted to grab something quick and go straight to Rhysand's office, but when you saw strawberries lying on the kitchen counter, you couldn't help yourself. Knowing the receipt by your heart paid off, when you were finishing the first strawberry tart, placing it on the plate and storming out of the kitchen with it, completely ignoring unfinished ones. You were sure Cassian would gladly eat them even now. You rushed to your room, to freshen up yourself and to change, before, with a plate in your hand, finally knock on your husband's office. “Come in.”

Before you opened the massive doors, you took a deep breath. Although you were absolutely sure about this, like anything before in your life, you were also still nervous. When you came in, you saw Rhys sitting behind the table, which was full of papers. To be honest, he looked like he didn't get too much sleep and that made your heart hurt. He looked up, meeting your eyes. His face lit up a little bit, in a small hope, when he saw what you were carrying in your hands. He watched your steps, before you were finally standing right in front of him, placing the plate on his table. “I made this, just for you.” You announced, biting your lip. “Are you.. sure?” His voice was hesitant. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to devour that tart and then you, but even now he was giving you a chance to change your mind. You walked around the table, he turned himself in his chair to face you, which you took as an opportunity to sit on his lap. His hand instinctively found your hip, holding you close so you wouldn't fall down, as you took the spoon, scooped up a little part of that tart and brought it to his lips. After he looked into your eyes once again, he ate the food you offered him, groaning at its taste. That sound was so beautiful, so sinful.. It made you thank Morrigan that on your first shopping spree together, she took you in that one certain shop, where you bought matching sexy underwear you were currently hiding under your dress.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

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may 2024 twst manga updates~

***This includes spoilers for the Episode of Savanaclaw, Episode of Octavinelle, and the 4koma!***

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LILIA SILVER AND SEBEK LOOK SO GOOD HERE 🤡 I love how Silver and Sebek are constantly shown flanking Lilia, it really enhances the bodyguard/knight vibes! Every time Lilia appears, he always looks like he's having so much fun. Lil' guy is living it up in every panel! Especially when he appears upside down to spook Ruggie.

efbiuSIUBDBYypvfW9wpWD THIS SHOT IS SO GOOD??????? ?I'M LIVING FOR CATER MAKING SILVER AND SEBEK LOOK LIGHTLY UNCOMFORTABLE AS HE HANGS ON THEM.............. .... . . . . ....... .. .... .. . . . . .. ..

Ruggie's despair is delicious 🤤 He's thinking about all the events that led up to this point and about how that will now all go to waste. Now that I think about it and I have the visual right in front of me... That's the same thing Leona felt every time he got knocked down for his efforts. The parallels, man...

Well, fellas... Looks like it's probably Overblot Leona time next chapter. A detail I love here is that, from Leona's perspective, all the faces of his dorm members are sorta blotted out... which is interesting seeing as how it was stated that Mrs. Rosehearts' face was intentionally blotted since she is considered the source of Riddle's trauma + the light novel tells us that Leona fears seeing hope and desperation for a better future in others because it might motivate him to try again, thus prompting another failure or rejection... 😭

Palace servants: Young master Leona's magical power is so strong, it's scary!! Leona: Damn, they don't understand me! They judge me before they even get to know me. If I were the older brother, they wouldn't be saying this stuff. Also Leona: [see image above]

MALEWIFE MODE RUGGIE????? 😭 What a contrast to the Ruggie in the Episode of Savanaclaw who is really going through it…

Love the detail of Yuuta and Grim helping out with chores in the background! It shows that they’re trying to pull their weight while they stay over.

Babe, wake up... New Yuuta and Leona reaction images just dropped from the Episode of Octainvelle... (I am Yuuta whenever new TWST content drops and my non-Twstie friends are Leona whenever they're listening to me blab nonstop about the updates--)

Yuuta once again proves to be my favorite of the current Yuu iterations 🫶 He’s just so sweet and hopeful!

We actually get to see the class photo!! Although the resolution here is very grainy. I'm really hoping that we get to see a close-up after Azul's OB!! I'm dying to see what he looked like as a kid!

fbhlavfuoeqy8vevif;fa fai THIS CHAPTER REALLY MADE ME LIKE ACE?????? ??? ? ?? ? It's probably because he gives the same flawless liar (even though the acting is sooo overexaggerated) energy as Jade in book 4. There's a really fun scene where he's distracting the Atlantica Museum guards and really hamming it up. He looks so cute while he's being (fake) upset yet so enthusiastic!!

This was my favorite part!! Ace excitedly talks about how he's always been interested in merfolk since he was little (lie) and how he saved up all his money to come to this museum (also a lie)... THEN BRO HAS THE AUDACITY TO POSE LIKE THIS AND TALK ABOUT WANTING TO BE A PART OF THAT WORLD????? ?? ???? ? ?? ? ?? ARIEL WHO>?????? ?? ??? ?? ? ?I o NLY KNOW TRAPPOLA NOW

One of the 4koma this month is about Octavinelle going on a camping trip! Azul wants to study the stars for money-making ideas/inspiration.

When talking about auroras, they're reminded of the Diasomnia students and think about making an aurora-colored drink to sell to them. The Octatrio also star-gaze and talk about aliens + selling octopus to them. They discuss the idea of filling a space suit with water and fish to they can walk in space too.

The other 4koma is about Trey brushing the mouths of his mandrake (as they have no teeth but dirt). He insists that everyone should have a clean oral cavity.

You can even tell which mandrake is Trey’s because it has a bunch of toothbrushes stuck in its pot 🪥

Jamil was planning on using his own mandrake to make an ancient remedy for relieving toothache. Trey is uh… interested… and attempts to test out the healing toothpaste for himself (Jamil of course stops him).

Trey… you’re the most NORMAL one, why are you like this OTL

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 8 months ago

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The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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