#elisabeth can’t run from herself no matter how much she tries and that’s a lot of the horror to me. and the more she tries the worse it get

[krookodyke]

the substance is especially crazy to me for how like. sobering it is. when i was watching the movie i just thought about the massive number of ppl (usually women) who are always deriding their younger selves for being too “weird” too “ugly” too “fat”, and to a degree in which they almost seem to take this kind of sick joy in mocking their younger self— as if it’s not still them, as if it’s not still You. a lot of sue’s loathing towards elisabeth comes from this, that she’s “undesirable” and “unlovable” and “old”— and yet that’s HER! you are ONE! you can’t separate yourself from your younger self or older self, no matter how much you might want to. the moment wherein it becomes clear how doomed shit is is when sue & elisabeth act as if they’re separate entities and are constantly mad at each other, engaged within this deadly cycle of sabotage. the moment elisabeth truly cursed herself, really, was the moment she termed her other self “sue”, giving her a different identity. perceiving herself as a different person, even though that’s not the truth at all. she can attempt to separate the two versions of herself with a meaningless name but at the end of the day, it’s still you. and that’s the most terrifying part.

[alexsfictionaddiction]

Alex Recommends: May and June Books

I must apologise for the late arrival of this post. It should have been up days ago but I’ve been struggling to read much for the last month or so. My head has been very foggy and dark with all of the confusion, anxiety and hate that has been filling my news feeds and I’ve been filled with a desire to combat it. Before this month, I’d have run in the opposite direction from any kind of confrontation but recent events have given me the kick up the butt to actively do better. I’ve been calling out bigotry when I come across it and I’ve noticed that some people, notably my older relatives, haven’t necessarily reacted favorably to the changed, more outspoken Alex. It has been pretty daunting and I’ve worked myself up into fits of rage and tears several times over the last couple of months.

A lot of things have changed for me since my last Alex Recommends post. I’m currently temporarily living in Staffordshire with my boyfriend because my depression got too bad for me to stay at home for much longer. I missed him unbelievably much and I knew that spending some prolonged time with him would help -and it has. Both him and I have spent 12 weeks religiously following all of the rules, so we’re both extremely low-risk for catching and spreading COVID-19 and being together was something that we simply really needed to do. Please don’t hate me for it! In other news, I have also started writing again, which feels amazing. I’m now a few thousand words into a queer Rapunzel retelling that I have lots of ideas for. Maybe I’ll even post an extract or two, when I feel it’s ready to show you.

In the centre of the renewed energy of Black Lives Matter and the undeniable exposure of the horrors that is police brutality, the book blogging and BookTube worlds vowed to uplift Black voices. I wrote a very long, in-depth blog post full of Black-written books and Black book influencers. Please check it out to diversify your TBR and educate yourself on Black issues, which is what every white person should be doing now and always.

June was Pride Month and I tried my best to compile a series of recommendation posts in honour of it. These included gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, ace, pansexual and intersex lists. I’ve had some great feedback on this, so I hope you find some fantastic new reads. It felt especially poignant to put them together the same year that one of my childhood heroes came out as an ignorant trans-exclusive feminist. As a lifelong Harry Potter superfan and someone who has repeatedly publicly supported Rowling in the past, I feel the need to clarify where I now stand. I do not support or agree with a single thing that she has said in recent times with regard to transgender people. I’ve never felt my own status as a cisgender female threatened by trans people wanting more rights or believed that children or women were at risk due to their existence. 

I read her words more than once and struggled to find any semblance of the woman who wrote the books that have most defined my life. I’m hesitant to say that we can always successfully separate the art from the artist but I will say that it makes sense to me that the Rowling of 2020 is not the same Rowling that wrote Harry Potter. She was a destitute single mother when Philosopher’s Stone was published in 1997 and of course, she is now a million worlds away from that lifestyle. It breaks my heart but it makes sense to me that she has changed beyond belief because her life has changed beyond belief. I’m not and never would make any excuses for her recent behaviour and I have stopped supporting her personally but I will not be getting rid of my Harry Potter books and I will undoubtedly re-read them several more times. However, I am now hugely reluctant to buy any more merchandise or special editions of the books, which saddens me but at the moment, it feels right. There is no coming back for her from this and I will make a conscious effort to keep Harry Potter and Rowling away from my future content. It can be really tough to admit that the people you once really admired aren’t great humans but it’s something that we all have to acknowledge in this case, in order to move forward with our own quests to become our best selves.

It didn’t feel right to post my May recommendations last month as I didn’t feel comfortable promoting my own content in the midst of boosting Black voices. So today I’m bringing you a bumper edition of Alex Recommends. Here are 10 books that I’ve enjoyed since the start of May that I’d love to share with you. Enjoy! -Love, Alex x

FICTION: Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Set in the affluent neighbourhood of Shaker Heights, Ohio in the 1990s, two families are brought together and pulled apart by the most intense, devastating circumstances. Dealing with issues of race, class, coming-of-age, motherhood and the dangers of perfection, Little Fires Everywhere is highly addictive and effecting. With characters who are so heartbreakingly real and a story that weaves its way to your very core, I couldn’t put it down and I’m still thinking about it over a month after finishing it. 

FICTION: Get A Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert

When coding nerd Chloe Brown almost dies, she makes a list of goals and vows to finally Get A Life. So she enlists tattooed redhead handyman and biker Red to teach her how. Cute, funny and ultimately life-affirming, this enemies-to-lovers rom-com was exactly the brand of light relief that I needed this month. The follow-up Take A Hint, Dani Brown focuses on a fake-dating situation with Chloe’s over-achieving academic sister and I can’t wait to get my hands on that.

FICTION: The Rearranged Life of Oona Lockhart by Margarita Montimore

Just before her 19th birthday at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1983, Oona Lockhart finds herself inexplicably in 2015 inside her 51-year-old body. She soon learns that every year on New Year’s Day, she will now find herself inside a random year of her life and she has no control over it. Seeing her through relationships, friendships and extreme wealth, this strange novel has echoes of Back To The Future and 13 Going On 30 with a final revelation that I certainly never saw coming.

NON-FICTION: The Five by Hallie Rubenhold

Atmospheric and engaging, The Five details the previously untold stories of Polly, Annie, Elisabeth, Kate and Mary-Jane -the women who lost their lives at the hands of Jack the Ripper. Full of fascinating research and heartbreaking accounts of what these women’s lives may have been like, Rubenhold paints a dark immersive portrait of Victorian London and gives voice to these tragic silenced lives. Although we can’t know for certain if these accounts are entirely accurate, they feel very plausible and in some ways, The Five exposes how little time has moved on, when it comes to the public portrayal of single, troubled women.

NON-FICTION: Unicorn by Amrou Al-Kadhi

From a childhood crush on Macaulay Culkin to how a teenage obsession with marine biology helped them realise their non-binary identity, Unicorn tells the story of how the obsessive perfectionist son of a strict Muslim Iraqi family became the gorgeous drag queen Glamrou. Packed full of humour, honesty and heart, this book will give you the strength and inspiration to harness what you were born with and be who you were always meant to be.

MIDDLE-GRADE: The Super Miraculous Journey of Freddie Yates by Jenny Pearson

When fact-obsessed Freddie’s grandmother dies, he discovers that the father he has never met may actually be alive and living in Wales. So he has no choice but to grab his best friends Ben and Charlie, leave his home in Andover and go to find his dad! I laughed so many times during this madcap adventure and I know the slapstick crazy humour will hit the middle-grade target audience just right. It’s also a wonderful depiction of small town Britain with a focus on the true meaning of family.

MIDDLE-GRADE: A Kind Of Spark by Elle McNicoll

When Addie learns about her hometown’s history of witch trials, she campaigns tirelessly to get a memorial for the women who lost their lives through it. This wonderfully beautiful novel gives a unique insight into the mind of an 11-year-old autistic girl with a huge heart. Busting myths about neurodiversity while tackling typical pre-teen drama, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry but most of all, you’ll close the book with a huge smile on your face. 

HISTORICAL FICTION: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

In 16th century Warwickshire, Agnes is a woman with a unique gift whose relationship with a young Latin tutor produces three children and a legacy that lasts for centuries. This enchanting, all-consuming account of the tragic story of Shakespeare’s lost son, the effects that rippled through the family and the play that was born from their pain will send a bullet straight through your heart. Wonderfully researched and beautifully written, Hamnet is worth all of the hype.

HISTORICAL FICTION: The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

When a vicious storm kills most of the men of Vardø, Norway, it’s up to the women to keep things going but a man with a murderous past is about to come down with an iron fist. At the heart of this dark tale of witch trials, grief and feminism, two women find something they’ve each been searching for within each other. Gorgeously written with a fantastically slow-burning queer romance, Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s first adult novel is an addictive, atmospheric read with a poignant, tearjerker of an ending.

SCI-FI: Q by Christina Dalcher

When one of Elena’s daughters manages to drop below the country’s desired Q number, she is sent away to one of the new state schools and Elena is about to find out something she’d really rather not know about the new system. Packed full of real social commentary and critique of life as we know it while painting a picture of how things could be even worse (yes, really!), this pulse-racing, horrifying sci-fi dystopian gripped me from the first page and refused to let me go. 

[stachmousworld]

True love (lesbian story) P.3

Pairing: Mara x Carole

The main character’s POV is unreliable

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

As they walked out of the house, a small breeze hit her and cooled her down. It was not that cold outside but inside the house was hell.

“Are you okay?” Bella asked.

She nodded.

“Are you sure? Because you look out of it,” Lynda said, frowning.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Carole replied, exasperated.

“No need to bite.”

Carole rolled her eyes.

“What is wrong with all of you tonight? I’ve never seen you bugging me that much for a stupid party,” she grumbled.

“You never go out anymore. We never see you. Is it that bad to want to spend time with you?”

Carole wasn’t that drunk to not hear the real meaning of what she was saying. They accused her of spending too much time with Mara and acting different.

“Beware of what you imply, Tony, because I’d sworn you were jealous of my girlfriend.”

Tony snickered. Carole frowned and look each of them. They all had the same forlorn expression. She had enough, she needed to find Mara. Her girl was probably innocently flirting with a bunch of randy people in there. Carole didn’t know how Mara had been so “pure” when they met because the girl could flirt all day long without even noticing.

“I don’t have time for that. I need to find…”

“Mara,” Lynda finished.

“Mara,” spat Bella with too much force.

Ok. Carole stopped in her tracks and squared up. What the fuck was that! She closed and briefly apologized to Mara for breaking her promise and arguing with her friends about her.

“What is it about her that you don’t like? You don’t even know her.”

“It is not weird to you that a simple librarian “fell in love” with you, the heir of a multimillion fortune. I know you said she wasn’t poor, but she doesn’t come from our circle and your mom…

“My mom? What has she told you?” Carole questioned. She discarded all the nonsense accusation about Mara because there was a more urgent matter. They glanced at each other as to ask the permission to talk.

“She was worried. (Carole rolled her eyes. Her mom was a drama queen.) She said you had let yourself go, that you didn’t consider going to the festivities of Christmas and that you wanted to move out,” said Bella.

“True, although I’m not sure what she wanted to say by “letting myself go”. I can assure you that my hygiene is my priority every day. But what is the problem of any of…”

“We are your best friends. You’ve known us for years and you never talked to us about moving out of the city or changing work,” Lynda said.

“Not before Mara”, continued Tony.

“Did you rehearse before talking to me? Because it was funny.”

They all sighed.

“I understand what you are saying and your fears. But she is my girlfriend. I never, and I say never, chose any of this because of her. She never had influenced me or dictated my life at no point in the two years we’ve been together, and I found that pretty shallow of you to come now. After all these months,” Carole said angrily.

“We…We never thought it’d last. Your relationship, I mean.”

“Woah,” said Carole, shocked.

“You don’t go out anymore, don’t talk to us, don’t want to do activities without telling Mara to come with you…”

“She is my girlfriend, Carole drawled. What did you expect? Who wouldn’t want the person they love…”

They gasped and Carole put her hand on her mouth. She closed her mouth, tears trickling in her eyes. God, she had said it out loud. Suddenly she felt exhausted. She was supposed to tell it first to Mara. She had even prepared a speech and planned for the special night.

“You can’t possibly love her so soon.”

“So soon?”

“You had been with Eli’ for more than a decade and you want us to believe that you love this, Mara,” Bella spat the name like it was some dirt on her tongue.

“You know exactly why I didn’t stay with El’. You know all about the reasons and you agreed with me. Why can’t I be happy in another relationship?”

“It is not that, honeydew,” Tony said, softly. “We do want you to be happy. But how could you say that you love Mara, if you are still wearing the ring Eli’ gave you.”

The tension seemed to pour out of their bodies. Carole reached for the ring in the necklace and pulled it out of her shirt. She toyed with it a couple of times and expected to feel something other than nostalgia.

She still had it because…she didn’t really know. At first it held a sentimental value and it is right that the first months she had been with Mara she had hoped that El’ would come back and she still felt guilty because Mara was…she was a ray of sunshine and she never pushed her. As if she knew, implicitly, what she was going through. Carole hadn’t given her 100% which she felt remorse for. She thanked God everyday for having such a stubborn girlfriend and she spent every day trying to make up for those first months. As for the ring, Carole had taken the habit of playing with the ring when she was fidgety.

“You see. You can’t possibly love her. It must be infatuation. You jumped from a relationship to another one. To someone who was a safe replacement to what you had. (Carole hissed at this statement. She couldn’t think of Mara as a safe replacement.) But now, you won’t have to settle.”

“What? What do you mean I won’t have to settle?”

They glanced again at each other and before Carole told them to stop, Bella talked:

“Elisabeth is back.”

Carole backed away. What? That wasn’t true. She couldn’t be. Carole pushed pass them and started looking for Mara. They had to get out. They have to…The last conversation with El’ came back and with it the feelings she thought was gone.

“Mara!” She suddenly screamed, fear gripping her heart. She went past a few cars and called her again. Then she saw her, behind a car. Carole ran toward her, hugged her and kissed her nose. She would have wanted to do more, but Mara avoided her kiss and looked down. Carole frowned and her smile left her face when she saw El’. On the floor.

“Ce’?”

“El’?”

She couldn’t believe it. El’ was right there. Her ex and her lover had met and talked to each other. Carole experienced a lot of myriad of emotions, guilt being the most present. But the most powerful was joy. She couldn’t know if she was because her longest friend was back, that she was still alive after all these years going overseas and living in warzones. She felt relief, too. And if there was a hint of undying love, she wouldn’t acknowledge it. No not now.

She could see the flecks of brown in her green eyes. God, it has been two years. It fets like decades.

Carole felt the need to grasp Mara’s hand. To let Mara hold her and tell her that everything will be ok.

Instead she stayed focus on El’ and tried to reason, she couldn’t have talked to Mara that long. Carole could salvage any kind of damage El’ made. Carole had to be strong. She knew that if she touched or looked at Mara and saw her even an inch sad, she’d be weak and probably do something stupid, like punch El’, who knew?

“You still wear it?” El’ said softly.

Carole put a hand on her chest, where the necklace was. She forced herself to smile. In another universe, in another time if Mara hadn’t been there…a ping of pain took her breath. God, she could not even think of a world where Mara didn’t exist by her side. She smiled as a warm feeling of love rushed through her veins. Carole really did love her.

She snapped out of her thoughts when the silence stretched. Her palms were itching and wanted to reach her lovers one. A little bit more time and we’ll go.

“Why are you here, El’?”

“I…m back, love. I’m out. The tour ended and I’m back for good. I have bought a house; the one we wanted. I’m back for good.”

Carole still gripped in the love she felt for Mara could have not come back to Earth quickly. Love? She could help but feel sad and irritated by this mark of endearment. It didn’t sound right when her lover was next to her. And El’ knew it. She repressed a sigh and decided to be nice.

“I’m…No…I’m with someone else, El’,” Carole said with empathy as El’s face become somber and sad.

“Oh, I…I didn’t think…I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

Carole heard Mara breathing hard. She turned towards her and frowned worrying that something was actually wrong with Mara. She was avoiding looking at her, seeming smaller with her arms around her small frame. As Carole reached for her, she spoke up.

“It is ok.” Carole shivered at the strange tone in Mara’s voice. “I’d understand if you want to be with her.” Carole tried to interject and took a step toward her but was denied the touch. “She was there for a few minutes and you…you looked happier than the whole two years we’ve been together. Fuck, I’m exhausted.” Carole tried to reach for her, but Mara backed away, still avoiding looking at either. Carole was becoming more agitated and was at her breaking point, if Mara backed away again, she’d bounce on her. “I don’t want to be the one to hold you back. I just want you to be…happy,” Mara said choking on the last word. “You don’t have to settle for the safer one, now,” she finished with a brittle smile.

Silence. It was almost too silent.

Carole couldn’t breathe, nor talk or move. Mara finally raised her eyes. Carole took in the resignation, sadness and darker feelings which swirled on her face. Her eyes shone more than a million stars, but Carole didn’t like what they reflected. Before she could properly react and reassure her, Mara gave them a heartbreaking smile before running away.

          Carole gasped for air. The more she stood here frozen, listening to Mara’s footstep on the floor, running away from her, the less her heart seemed to cooperate. When she decided to move and follow Mara’s suite, it was too late. She could only see the flash of her clothes and the night encompassed her in its eerily atmosphere.

“I love you,” she whispered, hoarsely.

The night swallowed her words and kept it greedily.

Carole was walking towards her car. Mara…Carole repressed her tears and the building scream that settled in her lungs. She took a deep breath and reasoned. She was not gone forever; they’ll still see each other at their...my…their house. She couldn’t panic now, or she’ll drown. And crash.

She took her phone and dialed Mara’s number. Voicemail. All of 50 calls. She had long lost the force to say anything. She didn’t even know what to say. Tonight was supposed to be fun; they’d dance, drink a bit and snog like teenagers. But it turned out sour. God, what happened? What had made Mara think that…

          She shook her head. The cold necklace on her chest constricted her. Did Mara really think all she said? That she was the safer one, that Carole only wanted her as a sort of replacement, that she didn’t love her because…because she was wearing this stupid necklace! She gripped it hard before taking it off.

          She let the ring dangle. El’s heavy breathing while trying to match her pace almost pushed her to run.

“Carole, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that is was her.”

“You’re lying. You knew who she was, and you decided to be petty. Thinking that I’d come back to you,” Carole countered, laughing sarcastically.

“I…it is true that I knew who she was. But I…”

“Fuck you, she said, turning around to face Elisabeth. Her friends were next to her. Carole handed the ring and look at the stricken face of her ex.

“What? No, it was a gift.”

“If you don’t take it, I’ll throw it away,” Carole threatened.

“Care’,” her friends warned her.

“You are going to regret it,” Elisabeth replied.

“I don’t love you, Elisabeth. Probably never really had.”

The others gasped both at her words and her actions. She threw the ring on the grass and walked away.

She heard footsteps behind but stayed focus on her goal. Going home and talk to Mara. Telling her that she was in love with her. Apologizing for being a stupid donkey head the first months of their relationship; for making her think that she would come second if Elisabeth came back… “God, please, give me another chance,” Carole muttered. If Mara didn’t want to listen to her, she’d go on her knees and plead. She’d do anything for her. To have her stay by her side.

She felt something tugging her arm and she was pressed against Elisabeth. What the hell? Before she could talk, she was being roughly kissed. Carole pushed her violently. She wiped her lips and repressed her urge to puke. She spat instead.

“What the hell! Are you insane? I don’t love you. Stay away from me, asshole!”

Her friends helped Elisabeth getting back to her feet and tried to calm her.

“You (Carole pointed at her friends) Go fuck yourselves! If you thought I was avoiding you before, there another thing coming your way,” she growled.

“See! What we talked to you about. You are not the same. You are ready to throw our relationship like that,” Bella exclaimed, as if this whole situation proved some sick point.

“Fuck you. If you were my friends, you’d stay with me and not her! God, you are really stupid. I don’t what I saw in you but we’re through. And if you cared for me, you’d not let my ex (she spat the name) alone with my lover. But guess what, you are not really it.”

“You are being unreasonable.”

Carole refrained herself from punching all of them.

“Let her go”, said Elisabeth, dejected. “I’m sorry Ce’ for that and talking to your girlfriend. I didn’t say anything other than the truth. I didn’t try to threaten her. She made up her own conclusion.”

“I fucking hate you. You can put your stupid excuses far up your rectum, for all I care.”

They stood in front of her, gobsmacked. God, that felt good. Now she had a girlfriend to find but first, she had to call someone.

Carole parked her car in front of her house. She literally sprinted to the front door. She could smell the perfume of Mara. Relief wash over her. Carole could do it; have this long talk with her girlfriend and make up. But before, she wanted to talk to her father. She dialed his number, as she entered the house. Everything was still and dark.

“Hello, dad!”

“Bear care? Is everything all right?” He asked, surprised.

“No, mom’ got into my relationship. Did you know that Elisabeth was back?”

Silence. Then, a sigh.

“I knew yes.”

“Were you in it with mom?”

Say no, say no, she repeated as a mantra.

“No. Your mom was secretive and seemed to talk a lot more about Elisabeth, but that’s it. What did she do?”

Carole sighed, relieved to hear that her dad wasn’t in this stupid affair.

“She talked to my…ex-friends and told them that I was living like a hobo and it was due to my girlfriend, Mara. She then proceeded to create a plan where I’d meet Elisabeth in a party and…I don’t know, break up with my girlfriend.

Silence. Another sigh.

“Your “ex” friend?”

“Yeah, they were harassing me and insulting Mara, I can’t be with people like that around me.”

“Do you think it was wise to break this friendship? You have had ups and downs before.”

“I know. But it was for the best. They said Mara was using me. Using me! Because she is a documentalist.”

Carole shook her head. She headed to the kitchen to take a glass of water before heading to their room, where Mara had to be. The dad chuckled. Carole knew that her dad had reserves. She knew he didn’t really know Mara so couldn’t form his own idea of her. But at least he didn’t try to come between them.

“I know Bear Care, your mom can be sometimes…too much. I’d try to talk to her later. But tell me all about…”

Silence.

“Bear Care? Carole! Are you still on?”

She breathed heavily, her hand clutched against chest. The closet…the closet. Empty.

“Baby, are you ok?”

She whined. The phone fell of her grasp as she roamed in the room looking for a trace of Mara. Her perfume, underwear, clothes, shoes, brushes…there was nothing. Nothing but…the bracelet Carole gifted her and a velvet box. Carole took it with shaking hands.

It is not what it is. It is not what it is, she repeated to herself.

She opened it and what she saw made her fall on her knees.

A ring. With multiple empty emplacements. For each year spent together, they��d have added another diamond. Mara remembered. It was one of the many meaningless conversations they had at first. When Carole was still stupidly in love with her ex. But Mara remembered. All the details. Carole took the ring and saw the inscriptions inside. Let’s go on an adventure and the sign of eternity.

She choked and let an ugly screamed as she laid on the floor, sobbing.

Mara was gone for good. And with her, Carole’s heart.

Part 4

[wackpainterkid]

love thy neighbor (1/1)

a/n:  I just needed a scene of Noah gushing over Liv to someone so I wrote it myself lol. And then I thought: what could make this fic even better? The return of the OG noliv shipper, ma’am neighbor, of course. @smileykeijser once named our lovely neighbor Elisabeth and I've been calling her that ever since, so credits for the name go to her. This might be meh, sorry if it is

rating: G

2000words

also on ao3

It is because Noah looked outside of his window and saw the dark clouds rolling in, that he thought to stay ahead of the rain by leaving slightly earlier for Liv’s, that he thought that that would be the smart choice.

 However, now he is caught in what might be the worst rain deluge in a long while and no matter how much he rings Liv’s doorbell, the door stays shut.

 His phone is also completely out of battery, he discovers when he wants to try and call her.

 So not only is he drenched, but he is also at Liv’s place way too early without a way of contacting her and she’s not home.

 All things considered, everything fucking sucks.

 He’s covered from the rain, but the raindrops continue to run across his face, tracing a path from his forehead, along his temple to his cheek. At first, he tries to wipe them away, but he soon gives up. It isn’t as if his hands are dry. He combs his wet hair out of his face. 

 He normally has a great view of the city, here from the sixth floor right outside of Liv’s apartment. But now the city is covered with an opaque curtain of rain, reaching as far as his eye can see. A sigh leaves his body. He’s not going back into that downpour.

 “Hello, young man,” says a voice in the distance; it’s just loud enough to be heard against the clatter of the rain.

 Noah turns around, his eyes leaving the grey city skyline and going in search of the person who addressed him.

 It doesn’t take long before he sees her, umbrella above her head, green raincoat as a protection against the rain. He recognizes her, even though it has been a while since he’s last seen her. 

“Hello, ma’am,” he replies.

 Liv’s neighbor had been a pivotal part of his early visits to Liv’s apartment, early both in the day and in their relationship– not that he could really call it a relationship back then. Every time Liv rejected him, rejected his offer to accompany her to school, the presence of her neighbor acted as a balm, because at least someone was nice to him, at least someone was happy to see him.

 A lot has changed since the last time he encountered her.

 “No one’s home?” the woman asks, casting a look at him, soaked and the door in front of him, closed. As she approaches him, her tiny dog toddles behind her on its leash.

 He shakes his head and the movement makes a few drops fall out of his hair. 

 “I think I’m just early, they should be home soon.” A small smile follows his words to reassure her.

 In reality, he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know the time, doesn’t know when Liv is getting home, doesn’t know how long he is supposed to wait outside before he can enter her apartment. But he doesn’t tell the woman that.

 “You’re not going to wait out here in the rain, are you?” She frowns as she watches the horizon he was watching earlier and pulls her coat a little tighter around her.

 Noah doesn’t want to but there is no other option. He wants to look for a place of refuge but there isn’t really anywhere for him to go to.

 He opens his mouth to answer but closes it again, what is there to say? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to have to do?

 It seems like Liv’s neighbor still understands, even if he doesn’t answer.

 “You’re very welcome to wait inside of my apartment and maybe drink a cup of tea,” she proposes with a kind expression in her brown eyes.

 And just the idea of being inside and having a warm beverage makes Noah forget about how soaked all of his clothes are and how cold he is. It makes him smile.

 “That sounds wonderful.”

 “I’m Elisabeth,” she introduces herself, “and this is Mara.” She gestures towards her dog.

 “Noah.” 

 “Alright, Noah. Let’s go hide from this dreadful weather. Come on, Mara,” she says, her hand gently tugging the dog’s leash.

 Noah follows Elisabeth to her apartment, which is located on a different floor from Liv’s front door. Their steps slow down as they near her home. She asks him to hold Mara’s leash while she searches her giant bag for the set of keys that will open her door and he complies, watching Mara. She seems to also suffer in the cold, as her tiny body keeps on shivering.

 The door finally opens, and Elisabeth takes Mara again. They walk inside and he lets out a subdued sigh once the warmth of the inside hits his skin. Noah looks around. The apartment has a similar layout as Liv’s house does but it’s smaller, more meant for a couple than for a gang of teenagers who live together. 

 Noah doesn’t see any traces of anyone else living here, however; he can only spot things meant for Mara.

 As he’s busy with taking off his coat and shoes, Elisabeth disappears for a moment. She reappears with two small towels. One, she hands to him and the other she uses to dry off Mara.

 “Thank you,” he says and dries off his hair. He remembers his empty phone. “Elisabeth, I was wondering whether you have a phone charger. My battery died.”

 “I’ll go check,” she promises as she stands up after petting Mara. “You want some tea in the meantime? I’ve got Earl Grey and red fruits.”

 “Earl Grey would be great.”

 Elisabeth goes into the kitchen and leaves him alone with Mara in the living room. Noah takes time to study the room, walks around with slow steps and lets his eyes fall on everything he comes across. He looks at the books in the bookcase, at the motif of the carpet on the floor; he scrutinizes the paintings on the wall.

 “Admiring the decor?” Elisabeth asks, and he’s almost certain that there’s a quip in her voice. Her presence catches Noah off-guard and makes him startle. More time must’ve passed than he realized.

 Once he recovers, Noah chuckles. He toys with the ring on his finger. “I’m a painter so I have to consider all art with a critical eye.”

 “Oh, are you?” With care, she sets a steaming teapot on her table and a set of cups next to it.

 She continues to empty her hands by handing him a charger. “I hope this one will work.” 

 He considers the cable for a second before concluding that it is exactly the one he needs.

 “Perfect!”

 “So, what do you paint?” She pours tea in one of the cups before pointing him to a power outlet where he can plug his phone in.

 It immediately lights up when he does. Crouching near, he taps in his code and as soon as he does, it starts to vibrate.

 Texts from Liv she sent fifteen minutes ago trickle in.

 Liv: IM NOT HOME YET 

Liv: I’m still at Esra’s. Ralph and I are waiting for the rain to stop so don’t leave yet. I’ll let you know when we’ll leave. See you soon!

 He locks his phone and stands back up. “All sorts of things but mostly abstract art,” he answers her question as soon as he takes place at the table.

 “Interesting. I wish I could paint too. Sugar?”

 He shakes his head and grabs his cup. “Anyone can paint,” he tells her and it’s truly what he believes. 

 There’s no right or wrong way to paint. It is just taking a brush and spreading color on a canvas. There are far too many people who think they know better, who think they are better than others because they’ve appropriated something that should belong to all, should be accessible to all. 

 She lets out a tiny scoff.

 “No, I’m being honest,” he says with sincerity in his voice. “If you want, I can drop off some painting equipment next time I’m around. And if you want, I can even give you some painting classes.” His lips curl in a wide smile and Elisabeth squeezes his arm with a similar smile.

 “You’re too kind, boy.” Her eyebrow goes up as she sips from her tea.

 You have been around more recently. I’ve noticed.” 

 “Have you?” the words come out in a coy way and he doesn’t want them to.

 “I have,” she confirms. “I’ve seen you with my lovely neighbor a couple of times. I take it she is done with running away from you?”

 Noah can’t help but laugh as he rakes through his still-damp hair. “She is. Luckily,” he adds.

 He takes a sip of his tea, feels it slowly but surely warm up his inside and chase away the cold the rain had left there.

 “Though, she did have every right to run away back then.”

 He does have to admit that. Noah is fully aware of how his behavior was far from admirable and pleasant back then. 

 “Did she?”

 “Oh yes. The way Liv treated me back then was fully deserved. I’ve learned since. Liv doesn’t mince her words and I wouldn’t want her.”

 “Honesty is important.”

 “It is is. I had to learn that when we got together.”

 And maybe it’s the question in Elisabeth’s gaze but Noah tells her their story. Because he wants her to know. There aren’t that much adult people aware of it, nor does he personally see the use of telling it to others but it’s somehow different with Elisabeth. There’s something calming and soothing in her eyes, in the way she treats him. In the way that, after so little time together, he trusts her. And he wants her to know to hear what she has to say about it, hear what kind of advice she can give him.

 So, he tells her. From start to finish.

 And she listens.

 And frowns, and places her hand on her heart, and laughs

 “There’s this duality when were together,” Noah admits, and he hasn’t truly said this thought out loud before. “I both feel like we belong with each other and I’m also very aware of how much better a person she is. She’s kind, she’s caring. I mean, her laugh can light up the world. She’s feisty and funny.”

 He takes another sip from his cup. His tea has passed the point of lukewarm and it makes Noah realize how much of the conversation has been from his side. And how much of that part has been about Liv.

 “Sorry,” he suddenly says.

 “Don’t apologize, boy,” Elisabeth replies, seemingly knowing what he’s talking about. “Young love is one of the best feelings in the world. I still miss that feeling.”

 Noah hears the sorrow in her voice and wants to ask her about it, wants to express his sympathy but before he can, his phone suddenly lights up and starts ringing.  

 “That’ll be Liv,” Noah announces before leaving the table. And indeed, a picture of Liv graces his screen.

 “Hey,” he greets her over the phone. “No, it’s fine. I’m right around the corner. Yeah, I’ll be right over. See you soon.”

 “Liv’s home, so I’m going to…” he points over his shoulder 

 “Yes.” Elisabeth nods understandingly.

 “Thanks for the tea and the shelter.” He tries to express the magnitude of his gratitude in his words.

 Imagine if he had to spend all the time he spent inside with lovely company outside in the cold instead.

 “You’re very welcome.”

 He goes to hug her and she hugs him back.

 “Oh, and Noah?” she says as he’s walking towards the door. He looks over his shoulder. “Bring Liv next time.” She winks.

 He laughs. “Will do,” he promises. “Bye, Mara.” He rubs her head. “Bye, Elizabeth.”

 Before the door truly closes, Noah can hear Elizabeth say one last thing, he presumes to Mara.

 “Seems like Liv chose a good one.”

 And Noah’s smile only continues to grow with her approval. 

a/n: Is now a good time to introduce the term "neighbor-in-law"? Next week, you should get some angst (emphasis on should because that was actually supposed to be this week and look at how that turned out) 

[life-in-a-labrynth]

I’m still in a lot of pain. Therapy helped. But I still find myself in moments like this. I hope I can sleep soon. I haven’t tried. I still have more work to do.

All I can think is about how I hate her and how I miss her, even now, after 14 month since we broke up, and a little over a year since we saw each other, before I cut off contact, and told her that I was cutting off contact, and briefly felt better telling her that I refused to be friends with someone who doesn’t respect me, and assumes I’m this huge moron who can’t follow what she’s saying, and a sheep whose political beliefs are meaningless because I just believe whatever my group believes, and telling her I won’t be friends with someone who outright admits to silently judging me.

She held out hope on at least remaining facebook friends but I slammed that door shut and blocked her and it felt good to tell her off, but it wasn’t enough. I still find myself wanting to yell at her and argue with her and put her in her place. I’m still in so much pain and I still go through it and litigate it and rationalize it and realize for the billionth fucking time that I wasn’t in the wrong but it never sticks. I just keep falling into the same traps.

It doesn’t really matter what I believe, I just remember her face and her snuggles and her smile and our deep conversations and hugging her and kissing her and fucking her and cuddling her post-coitus in a way I never did with any woman I’ve had sex with, embracing her from behind and kissing her neck and smelling her hair and running my hands all over her still-sweaty body and feeling drunk on her.

I listen to video game music and remember how even though it’s completely trivial and arbitrary, how good it  felt to be dating another gamer, one who was seasoned in RPGs and video game culture and internet culture. I read the Sam Harris subreddit and tell myself that it’s because there are interesting discussions there, same with the intellectual dark web sub, but in truth, it’s only because she was interested in them, and I can’t resist. I would never see her post and vice-versa, because I blocked her there, as I blocked her everywhere, all the way down to blocking her on my PS4 friend’s list.

I never blocked her e-mail, though. Theoretically, she could still get in touch that way. And sometimes I day dream about it, wondering whether she’d ever do it, what she’d say. Would she realize that she was wrong? Would she have matured? Would she apologize? Is that all the capacity my imagination has to offer?

I don’t think she’d e-mail me in those circumstances... just feel ashamed. Besides, it’s too soon. One year. It’ll take her years of maturing and dating experience to realize the way she treated me was unfair, how she judged me over such trivial things, how her attitudes towards me didn’t add up, how she had such poor perspective, how she told me in a snotty voice how frustrated I made her, how oblivious I was, for violating this-or-that arbitrary rule, often times rules she transgressed ten-fold.

Who cares about any of this? I tell myself this over and over... why can’t I just get over it? Why can’t my heart finally listen to my mind? Why do I have to keep pacing these circles, the soles of my shoes and socks worn out, stepping into the same dried up bloody footprints I left the day before?

Would I even take her back? I tell myself no, but how could I really know? It’s a truism that a victim of abuse will go back to their abuser. I hate, HATE using the word abuse to describe the way she treated me, but it’s the closest word I can find.

I want to say I’d stand tall against her and tell her she done fucked up, tell her I knew she’d regret it, bask in vindication, tell her I wouldn’t even consider taking her back unless she made major changes, such as going to therapy, and I wouldn’t get close to her unless I really felt she was working on herself, and...

I just fucking hate this. I hate thinking about this. I hate thinking about her. I’m just so fucking tired of it. Why can’t I just let her go?

I had a hard time letting Angela go. Did that finally end when I met someone kew? Did it end when I met Dawn? Do I need to meet someone new to forget about Dawn, someone who may stay with me or may break my heart, taking the place of the One Who Got Away, continuing the cycle?

Christ I hate writing this, these words and thoughts are so tedious. I would never come back and read this. Talk about white noise. Whiny, white noise.

I want to sleep. I’m sad. I want to cry. I want the world to swallow me whole so I can rest, I just want to rest, just for a little while, I’ll come back I promise, but I need more than a night, I need a week, I need to just be alone and unwind, fuck me freddie it’s only monday and I met a new girl and I have a date and then I reconnected with that other girl and then there’s another who’s messaging me on OKCupid and then there’s the other one I should probably follow up on but I’m a dumbass and I don’t know how this keeps happening.

It happened last week, too. I somehow lined up 4 dates. All of them, bust. That’s the nature of things. I don’t like them, or vice versa, or it’s mutual. I had to break a few hearts, lol. I wish the one didn’t take so much initiative in fucking me. I was going to leave, but she invited me for a movie. I was going to go home and get sleep, but she said I could stay over if I wanted. I was just going to make out with her in bed, but she pulled me on top of her.

For fuck’s sake, I’m a guy. I’m not going to say no to sex. Even if it was just oral sex.

I felt bad because I could tell how into me she was. After our second date, we went at it again, and I tried, but I just couldn’t get into it. Afterwards, she touched me all over, was chatty, her voice was soft and warm and serene. It still hurts me to hear it. I felt a revulsion for which I feel guilty. I tried. Really, I did. I thought maybe even though her body wasn’t perfect, I could get into it. She was pretty great otherwise.

But it was a dead battery. Sort of like Elisabeth. Sort of like pretty much anyone after Dawn that I’ve kissed or had sex with. I refuse to believe that she ruined me. There’s someone out there for me. There has to be.

Kissing anyone new just feels like pressing my lips against the mouth of a wax dummy. The lips are cold, or thin, or coarse, or just don’t give me a bolt of electricity. Good enough to suck your dick, though, huh Dan? Fucking idiot.

I’m confused and I’m just kind of stumbling around and I’m lonely and I’m trying. I never wanted to hurt anyone but I’ll admit I think I broke a couple hearts in my wake, that must feel sorta good, right? Not that I want to hurt people, but I’ve been rejected too, and that bruises my ego. Maybe I’m not so unlovable. I guess hurting someone’s feelings is at least a little easier than being rejected and disappointed and insecure.

I don’t know. I can’t believe I’m still writing. But everything seems quite absurd, and sometimes I can see the humor in it, but mostly no, I think maybe, I don’t know, but in this moment it seems like in general it’s mostly unfunny and depressing. Oh my fucking god who cares Dan, get out of your head.

I have more work to do and I’m a dumbass for fucking off for even a half hour. I need to sleep. Fuck this shit, I’ll pick back up tomorrow.

[earthlostgirl]

The arrow of the sea.

chap1/ chap2 / Chap3

September 1630.

Tortuga

September 1630.

Tortuga

Elisabeth Hawkeye was dead. Riza Swallow looked like her, but they weren't the same person. It had been two years since she woke up in that hut and could still remember the pain of her wounds and the pain of her heart. Because she would not forget what she heard. What she told, everything she had lost. Her home, her life, her family, her beloved Old Will. Who had raised her, had taught her to read and write, to navigate and steer, to read the wind and maps. The man who told her stories of mermaids and lost civilizations. Who was more of a father than Berthol ever was. She had loved him very much, and his loss was one more notch in her battered heart. It took her a couple of weeks to recover, they had been really fortunate. Maes had taken care of them and had protected them in a moment when they were vulnerable. That guy was a good man, and they weren't plenty. Roy didn't realize it, because he was another big-hearted idiot. But anyone in Hughes' position had sold out their secret to the first pirate who took him on board.

Deep in her heart she felt sorry for corrupting such a noble soul. He wanted to be a pirate, but he wasn't only kind. He was intelligent, an exceptional strategist. The kind of fellow you want on your team, it was he who thought that she should change her wasn't safe anymore and since the demise of his former crew and the capturing of the Arrow. The tales about his father's hidden treasure had grown to the point of touching the ridiculous.

She chose swallow because that's what Will called her and it was a good way to honour his memory. and Riza was a diminutive of her name in some places in Amestris.

There were the three of them, without money and with a lot of plans, because she had gone falling along with a couple of hopeless dreamers. She needed to be more realistic, clinging to reality to feel safe. The three of them went to the port every morning until they were shipped. Any job was worth to them, whatever for a penny. But she was never hired, no one wanted women on their ships. That made her furious, she spent a long time alone in the bloody cabin, which brought her nightmares, meanwhile they were at sea. It was Maes who introduced her to Mama Midnight.

Mama Midnight was an old black lady; she was big, with huge and expressive dark eyes. She always wore her hair covered with headscarves and always wore bright colours, she was intelligent, hard, kind and her house was always open to anyone who needed her help, she had been a slave, she was ripped from her native land for working in the new world, people told stories about her, thousands of stories, they said she killed her masters, that she cursed them and condemned them to farm their own land for eternity, as living dead.

She knew how to survive, life had taught her by beating and yet she was generous and kind, a benefactor. She was the queen of Tortuga, the protector, she ruled a small theater in which the plays that Crown banned were represented. She knew quite well the people with money would pay a lot of cash to see the forbidden plays. if they took the risk to travel to the dangerous island and she would take advantage of it. So, she got the money that she needed, because she took care of all the women who walked by her house. gave them work, a home, fed them, dressed them, taught them to fight, to defend themselves. She also taught them to take care of each other, generating a chain of sorority, of sisterhood. In which all of them felt protected and surrounded by their sisters. All of this to ensure no girl was forced to sell her body to fill her belly. The women who came to Tortuga were running away from their boring and corseted lives on the other side of the world. And she wasn't going to allow prostitution was the price they had to pay for their freedom. They weren't going to leave one life of servitude for another. There were whores in Tortuga, as everywhere else, just that they claimed their weight in gold. Literally. Mama Midnight was also a witch, a voodoo practician or so she said to all those who came to her in search of good luck in their journey. Or curses for their enemies.

The only problem is she hated the theater, or rather she hated exposing herself to the public. So she did what she could scrub, sew, teach the girls how to fight anything. But she wanted to sail, the land dried her soul. She could handle the boat better than the damn fishermen of Tortuga. Then the filibusters that docked in its port. She did not resign herself to giving up, whenever she came to the port looking for someone to board her. She tried several times, dressed as a man waiting for the luck to be on her side. On one occasion he sailed in a small boat that transported tobacco between the colonies. She felt full of life, no matter how hard the work she was given. Until a seaman discovered that she was a woman and tried to abuse her. She took out one of his eyes and cut off his hand defending herself from his attack. but the captain locked her up, blaming her for the simple fact of being a woman. On another occasion, shortly after sailing, she was discovered again and thrown overboard and she had to swim back to shore. This time she had been on a fishing boat and again she had been caught, locked in the hold, forced to clean her guts. She walked into Mama's house stinking, covered in shit and very, very tired. Mama looked at her from top to bottom and without saying a word shook her head in a reproachful gesture. Catalina, who was chattering at the bar, went up to the room behind her.

"Another rough trip, Riza?" she asked worried as she helped her in heating water for the bathtub.

"What do you think,?" she said, taking off the stinking layers of dirty clothes and throwing them in a basin.

"I think you're crazy; that's what I think," she replied with a disgusted face, taking the basin out of the room into the inner courtyard to keep that horrible smell away from the room.

Riza filled the bathtub with hot water and undressed to get inside. Quickly Catalina came back to her side and began to search in a small box, next to her bed.

"Here, you're going to enjoy it; I've done it myself," she said, giving her a bar of soap. "It's made with bayahiba roses and lemons."

"You're an artist, Catalina, it smells amazing," she said, bringing it up to her nose. "But I'm going to ruin it,"

"I can do more, don't worry," she replied pouring a pitcher of hot water over her head. "God, you stink, Riza."

"I know, I've got dirt and grime all over every corner of my body," she replied, rubbing her skin with an old twisted rag. "Besides, I have so many sores that I can barely move my arms, I'm exhausted, they caught me again..."

"Didn't you think about not risking your life?" her friend asked annoyed, throwing herself on the pillows.

"I can't live without the sea, Cata," she replied, rubbing her skin hard.

"You can't live if they kill you," she retorted very angrily.

"I know," she hugged her knees and rested her head on them."But...I just want to sail. I know it's hard to understand, but it makes me happy. It makes me feel free, the breeze Cata, surfing the waves. I don't have words to describe that feeling. It's better than an orgasm...It's so unfair I feel like crying."she sighed frustrated, stretching like a cat.

She washed her hair with the soap that her friend had given to her. And she felt clean, fresh and happy for the first time in weeks.

"I just want you to take care," grumbled her friend passing her a clean towel that she had been warming by the brazier.

"I really wanted to get this dirt off of me," she said, taking the towel and wrapping it around her body. " Now I need a good fuck or a good drunk."

"Well, I know a place where we can do both," she exclaimed snapping her fingers. "Come on baby, get dressed and let's go."

...

May 1633 Mama's Theater.

She was in the middle of a dress test. The tailor measured her in a red dress, in which she found it hard to was an incredible outfit, with a stunning neckline, a lace on the back and a voluminous skirt. The colour was gorgeous, and the fabric was soft and nice to the touch. It was almost a piece of art, very unlike anything she would have chosen. Comfort first of all, to be able to fight, to run away if it was necessary, to climb the ratchet stick, to dance...But a small part of her loved wearing that kind of dress.

The corset squeezed her ribs, but the sizes had to be taken this way, so any of the girls could put it on. The play was a mockery of Palace life, representing gossip and disappointments, skittles, betrayals and romances. Mama was very exigent with the wardrobe.

When the door slammed open, Roy ran towards her.

"Riza, we've got it!" he shouted exultantly, holding her hand without giving her time to react. "Come on, run!"

"Where are we going?" she asked in confusion. "I have to change.

"There's no time," he was so excited that he couldn't hear her. He just laughed, they ran through the troubled streets. Until they reached the harbor and stopped in front of an old fishing boat with two masts and squared sails."It's ours, at last," he proudly said pointing to the ship.

He looked at her with an enormous smile that made him look much younger than he was. They entered the boat and without letting go of her hand. He showed one by one all the rooms of the boat, it still had the smell of fish and was cracked. It had leaks and needed a hand of paint as a matter of urgency. Roy wouldn't stop chattering about all the arrangements he wanted to make. Where he would place all the stuff. How the he wanted the bow mark. How their life was going to be from now on.

They arrived in a large room, with a desk, an old brown leather sofa and a bed.

"And this is the captain's cabin, but you can have it, I can share a room with the crew and...,"

She had to contain the desire to laugh. So she kissed him, passed her arms around his neck and placed her lips on his. He was incapable to respond, until he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to him.

"You can't leave me your cabin," she whispered when they split up. "You don't just have to be a captain; you have to look like one."

She smiled for a second before kissing him again. And then she was aware of how long she had wanted to do that, to be in his arms, to touch him, to kiss him, to feel his warm breath on her cheeks.

"Liz..." whispered a few inches from her lips without opening her eyes, gripping her against him.

"You shouldn't call me that." she muttered, leaning her head against his forehead.

"We are alone," he answered, running with his fingers through the ribbons in her back, drawing with his hands the curves of her body.

"You know, cabin boy, I've been waiting a long time for you to touch me like this," she declared, biting her lips as she pulled his hair.

"You could have given me clearer signals..." he said, crossing his arms behind her back. "You're uneasy to read."

She laughed and kissed him again. Put her fingers through his hair, stroked his neck, covering his jaw with small kisses bit the lobe of his ear and he let out a little groan.

He didn't let her go. He was biting her neck, running through her body nearly frantic. He pressed her tight against him. He didn't even want the air to pass between them. He crept with her to the bed and fell backwards. Riza sat astride on him and leaned over as she unbuttoned his shirt and the small heart-shaped necklace slipped from her neck.

"I can't believe you keep this trinket," he said as he saw it. "I have found better gold in the guts of cod, besides that stone is false."

"You have no ideas of precious things, cabin boy, this is not a jewel, it is the promise of a dreamer," she whispered holding the necklace in her hands. "I've never had a better jewel."

He sighed in surrender and holding her by the waist gently sat her on the bed.

"This place is horrible, it smells like fish," he mumbled, pulling her hair away from her face.

"I'm not a princess," she replied, biting on his neck.

"You look like one in that dress and you smell the same," he kissed her cheek with a gentle smile and put his mouth to her ear."Listen, there's nobody in the cabin and it's clean, let's go there Okay?"

"Okay"

They walked by the hand to the beach; his hand gave off a nice feeling of warmth and every step that gave increase her desire. Fluttered in her belly and made her feel anxious and nervous at the same time. If she had stopped, she wouldn't have been able to continue, because her legs were shaking, so she let herself be carried away by him.

She closed the door behind her and looked at him laughing nervously, it was odd to be there, now, she bit her lips waiting for him to tell anything. But all Roy did was look at her in silence, with a cheeky smile and eyes full of desire.

He moved closer to her without stopping to smile. Grabbed her face with one hand and ran it to the nape of her neck, sticking his fingers through her hair.

He hugged her and with one hand began to untie the cord that tied the dress to her back. He dropped her dress to the floor along with the corset, and she let out a relieved breath. And she didn't know if it was because of the pressure of the corset or because she was almost naked in front of him at last. She was only wearing a white inner dress.

"Better this way?"He asked, laughing without releasing her, she nodded and leaned on his shoulder and remained so for a long time.

He didn't stop holding her, while he was kissing her, she tied herself to his waist with her legs and kicked her feet to drop her shoes. Roy walked around the cabin with her in his arms, whispering in her ear how beautiful she was. He let her fall on the bed as he took off his shirt. He hurried to get rid of his boots and then, in a hurry, he put his lips back on her neck, her chin, her eyelids... This wasn't meant to be like that; it was supposed to be wild, something animal, like a few minutes before on the ship. But he was touching her as if she were done of glass. And she wanted to caress every inch of his skin. Run her fingers through all the little scars that adorned his body. Feel the bones of his spine at her fingertips. She didn't just want it; she needed it. He took off her white dress and stared at her with the sweetest smile she had ever seen in him. And he lay next to her without saying a word, just touching her arm and giving her little kisses on the lips. Finally, he took her face with both hands and deepened in a kiss that made her gasp a groan, almost agonic charged with desire. Roy laughed again, standing on her, she started kissing his chest, passing her arms behind his back, as she wrapped her legs around him in a subtle invitation. She wanted to feel him from inside, to make him part of her, to claim him to herself. He began to move very slowly, so warm and tender, and she settled into that rhythm that made her vibrate.

"Riza..."

Not only his voice. His whole body shouted her name. The way his muscles were stretched, the drops of sweat slipping down his skin. His groans, everything was for her. Because of her. The touch of his skin against hers filled her with an unexpected heat. And his kisses more and more deep were as hot as the honeydew of rum. Making her wanting to cry and scream and laugh. And each beat of his hip against hers brought her closer to ecstasy. Roy moved like a wild animal and she wanted more and more of him until he collapsed exhausted over her body. She closed her eyes, unable to cease smiling, caressing his hair, listening him breathe as she tried to calm the beats of his exhilarated heart.

She woke up a moment later and Roy was with his head resting on her chest. And his arms behind her back. He was holding her firmly against him and his eyes were closed.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she felt him hugging her even tighter.

"Yeah, I think I'm happy; that's all" he lifted his head and moved over the bed, resting his head on her neck and wrapping his arms around her.

He kissed her lips and smiled in a sweet way, playing with a lock of her hair.

"Do you think we will do this again?" he asked hesitantly.

"Why not? It was very good...," she pinched his cheek smiling and made herself comfortable in his arms.

He gave her back the smile, but there was something sad behind it and her heart began to shrink.

"I know you perfectly, Roy, I know something is going through your head," she murmured, pulling his bangs away from his face.

"Then don't make me say it,"

"Okay, this is perfect, to be here with you, this is perfect," she said, and he let out a relieved sigh and then smiled hugging her again.

She let out a giggle, and he began to roll his hand over her neck very slowly.

"Do you think we can do it again right now?" he said touching her breast, running his hand down her belly with many care.

"That's my line, Captain."

He smiled in a wild way and placed himself over her, resting his hands on the bed, and devouring her with his gaze.

"Say it again, call me that way," he begged while looking at her as if she were a hunting prey.

"Is it any kind of fetish?" she asked, running her fingers across his chest."Do you like giving orders?" she insisted, licking her lips.

"Don't be mean to me," he said into her ear, biting the lobe of her ear.

"Fuck me, my captain," she whispered, putting her hands around his neck to get him back to her.

[young-writer1787-blog]

Random scene from untitled novel

Elisabeth stared out the stained window. Rain fell from a clear sky, a bad sign in her opinion. Nothing was the way it should be. Men laughed out in the hall, drunk on Starlight Wine. It was expensive, only found in the finest distilleries. The wine was easy on the stomach and didn’t burn as it slid down the throat. But, oh, the sensation was amazing. Almost better than the climax of a night in bed with a dirty noble. The guards should be at their post, attempting to restore some order. Elisabeth smiled a sad smile. She didn’t blame them. If she wasn’t his sister, Elisabeth would have been out there with them, challenging them to a game of Shot Roulette. She sighed. Elisabeth longed for the days when her father was in charge. She couldn’t remember having a mother and none of the tutors could ever get her to listen. Her father may not have always been pleased with her, but at least she listened to him. Elisabeth had always felt at ease with men. They didn’t pressure her to behave like a lady, all manners and courtesies. She had gained a reputation among the nobles as the Wit of the parties. Elisabeth had a way with words that sent the most reserved ladies snorting into their cups. She could make any man embarrassed over anything, even the color of their eyes. It had been ten long years since she bedded a man. Ten years since she had had time for drinking and parties. Elisabeth shuffled in the chair. The damn dress was annoying. She missed her shirt and trousers, the comfortable snug of boots. When her father died everything changed. Eland had been claimed as the long lost prince of Andile by Elisabeth’s brother, Eric, when she was just a girl. She rarely ever saw him outside of meals, but they shared a sort of connection Elisabeth hadn’t felt with anyone but her late husband. They were different, not mentally bound by the life of a royal. Eland had been raised in a pawn shop by a crippled old man and had spent most of his time stealing from gangs and petty nobles. Seeing him now, asleep on the large bed, bandages covering his bare torso showed her a side of Eland she hadn’t seen in twenty-six years. He was vulnerable, lying in white sheets stained with dried blood. Eland would find that puncture wound in his neck to be annoying. Elisabeth frowned. She was tired. At first, she didn’t mind stepping up and taking charge, but it soon began to become a stressor. She was not as beautiful as she once was, even if she had been boyish. Ten years of trying to keep a breaking Empire together had taken its toll on Elisabeth. Her mind was always in several places at once and it had taken twelve maids to persuade her to go to her brother. This was the first time she had been able to think about something other than politics, and it had her anxious. He used to be a great soldier, a general. But, when their father was killed, Eland had spent one week as emperor before disappearing for a year. He came back a different man. Everyone knew that something had happened to his men in battle and the general public figured that his absence was a way to deal with his guilt. But there was more. He had fear written all over his face when he abandoned the throne. When he returned, Eland became carefree and neglected even the simplest of duties. The council could do nothing. As written in law, the emperor could only be replaced when he died; and it was hard for an emperor to die. When an emperor accepted the throne they were granted Immortal Youth. The only way for Eland to die was by the hands of another man. Eland spent most nights out in the city, breaking the law, chasing gangs, and disrupting society. He usually slept during the day. There wasn’t really any rhyme or reason to what he did, Eland just did it. It was his addiction. This left Elisabeth to take care of things, and it was harder for her than it would be for her brother. Technically, she had no real authority. Everything she did in court was evaluated by the Council. If they thought she was overstepping herself she had to withdraw her proposal. The Council was made up of fat nobles who cared only for preserving their status in society. Crime was spreading. More and more people were disappearing. The jails could hardly hold the thieves found every day in the street. And her brother’s nightly escapades weren’t helping. More lived in poverty than ever before. Gangs fought in the open air. Rumors of rebellion were heard even by the Council. Andile was dying. Eland coughed. Elisabeth sat up slowly as he opened his eyes. “I haven’t known you to sit still for more than five seconds. What did it take to get you to wait on me?” Eland coughed as he chuckled. “Did they drug you?” Elisabeth frowned. Eland needed to work on his humor. Her frown deepened. Elisabeth was disappointed. “What’s wrong?” Eland asked. “Oh, nothing. I’ve just been balancing a broken empire on my shoulders for ten years.” “That’s not fair.” Eland sat up quickly in protest. He cried out in pain. “Easy,” Elisabeth said. “You’ve broken six ribs.” “Damn. That’s two more than last week,” Eland said leaning back. “This isn’t funny. You’re not invincible, you can still be killed.” “I know. I know. Things didn’t go as planned. That’s all, I swear.” Elizabeth wasn’t convinced. “What happened?” she asked. “You have a puncture wound in your neck. A little bit to the left and you would be dead.” “It’s a long story. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Elisabeth gave him a cold look that made Eland wince. When the emperor didn’t respond, Elizabeth continued. “Fine, don’t tell. It probably doesn’t matter. There are more important things for me to worry about.” The emperor nodded in lazy agreement and closed his eyes. Elizabeth sighed. Eland could be infuriating. He was like a child sometimes, ignorant and selfish, regardless of his emotion. She was worried for him and the empire. He would end up dead trying to steal a noble’s dick. Eland didn’t have an heir. When he was killed the dynasty would end. The fighting in the streets would turn into a war, if not before. Parties would be formed and Andile would fall, likely consumed by the neighboring powerhouse, Yuldar. Andrians would be sold into slavery and the nobles would face an option, death, or loyalty to the unforgiving Yuldran Kingdom. The emperor needed to grow up. He wasn’t the child of the roughs anymore, the child he pretended to be. The empire needed him. “You’re pathetic,” Elisabeth said softly. Eland stared into the light overhead, his mind in a different place. “I know,” Eland replied with a faraway look. “I can’t help it. I need this. I wish I cared. I wish I actually knew what was happening in my own damn Royal Cabal. But…I don’t. I can’t. It hurts…” “Your empire needs you. Andile is breaking, before long it will crumble and fall into slavery. Hell, Andile is hardly an empire anymore. It’s more like a small country with warring city-states.” “That wouldn’t be so bad.” “What the hell is wrong with you?” Elisabeth said. “How can you be such an ignorant bastard?” Her brother winced, he didn’t like to be reminded of what he was. “What?” Eland said. “I spend most of my time in the slums. For the love of the gods, I was a general. I am not oblivious to what is going on. I know more than most. Slavery wouldn’t be much worse than the way the nobles are treating the poor. I’ve seen children beaten to death in broad daylight by passing lords. Society has cracked.” Elizabeth looked down at her hands. Eland was smarter than she gave him credit for, he just did not care. “Then you know that there are whispers of rebellion?” “I’ve heard a thing or two,” Eland said. “Something about the High Order and the Rose Thorn. I don’t really pay attention to politics, just the fighting.” He visibly tensed, preparing for the retort. He did this all the time. He played that card even when both of them knew he did care, he just was too afraid to do anything about it. “Eland. You are the godsdamned emperor,” Elisabeth said, her voice raised. “If anyone should be worried about politics, it’s you! Those children wouldn’t be dead if they had a law protecting them. But you allow your council to drink their lives away while you run off to steal something, chasing a high!” “Do you think I asked for this?” Eland shot back. “I had a good life before your brother found out I was some lost prince. I didn’t have to watch people die, people I cared about.” “Eric was not the best man,” Elisabeth said. “He didn’t know when to stop.” She paused. “He was a lot like you. At least he tried. And don’t tell me you didn’t like war, you loved it.” “Then you know I cannot just leave the only thing that keeps me grounded, much less rule an entire fucking empire.” He coughed. “Some people are born rulers, some people can be made rulers. I’m neither. Most don’t understand that they would have a much happier life if they worried about the things they cared about. Spend less time plotting and more time trying to keep their damn men alive.” “We both know you don’t care about anyone, not anymore,” Elisabeth interjected. Eland’s excuse was dumb. It bore no weight and only echoed the thoughts of a broken mind. “What does it matter to you?” “People don’t like me, Elisabeth,” Eland said, a tear ran down the cuts on his face. “Look at you, you can hardly look at me without feeling sorry for my useless life. I make your job harder by going out every night, pissing everyone off to get a fix. My own wife died because of me.” “I’m sorry,” Elisabeth said. What else could she say? Helein had died a year before Eland became ruler. Eland had never loved anyone else, not even the man who raised him, not even the soldiers who died for him on the battlefield. “No. I’m sorry. I want to save Andile but I don’t know how. And I know that if I don’t do something about it this troubled empire will burn.” Eland’s eyes looked past Elisabeth, past the chair with his cold breakfast, past the walls of the chambers, and into some place, far away and distant. Elisabeth saw fear in those eyes, a calculating fear. What had happened last night? This was not the man who sought only a thrill, this was a man who was genuinely worried about saving his people. And the only way he knew how was to let them escape whatever fate he envisioned for them. “Being slaves would be better than what is coming. They would still be alive and if we’re lucky, Yuldar will prove nobler than we had perceived,” the emperor said, his eyes still in that deep place. Elisabeth remained silent. She had no idea what her brother was talking about. He spoke as if he knew the future. As if the gods had given him sight. God didn’t bother with people, they were too wild, too unruly. Only the lesser gods interacted with the world and on such a small level that it was hardly noticeable. If the sun, the moon, and the stars stopped moving, then everyone would cease to believe in a god. Eland needed rest. “I have seen it. I lived it. I breathed in the smoke that rose to the clouds of ash, colored with the blood of thousands. I watched as men were gutted and women drowned in the river. I heard the ground tremor as the palace toppled to the ground, the nine towers raining down on the city. I smelled the burning of flesh. I felt the heat of the flames as clear as day.” He cried. “It was so real Elisabeth. This empire will burn and I can’t help but think that it will be me who causes it.” “And so you hide among murderers and thieves.” Eland nodded. “Eland, you know this sounds ridiculous. People don’t see the future.” “No. They don’t. And people aren’t immortal yet here we are.” And he told her, everything. Elisabeth listened with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. He told her of the rebels at the inn and the creature that attacked him. He told her of the dreams that began in his year of absence. Dreams he saw in every shadow and the eyes of every innocent child. “I would wander forever among endless ruins and rubble. A fire that never went out burned through the empire. I have walked that road hundreds of times before, fearing the truth. It is the future. I never wanted to acknowledge the truth I knew and so I ran from it. Bet then he showed me. He showed me everything. It begins here with the burning of the palace. He showed me. It is coming. I saw him, sister. I spoke with God.” The emperor wept. “Then stop running. Save your empire from whatever fate you see.” “I can’t. He told me. The empire cannot be saved and it’s my fault. It is inevitable.” “Maybe it is. But you were a general, a great leader, a war hero. Fight even if it is in vain. It shouldn’t matter to you.” “Have you ever thought that the reason I don’t lead anymore has at least a little bit to do with what happened in war. I watched my men die. I failed them. If I failed an entire Empire like I did them…I am lost Elisabeth. I don’t know what I am running from or where I am running to. How can a man stop running when he is barreling down a cliffside?”