#Don't Say the M word|X-men verse au

[brooklynislandgirl]

What is your muse’s opinion on gossip? Do they ever gossip, encourage it, discourage it?

A Little Bit Of This and That || Accepting "Oh, no, I'd nevah." She doesn't know why the man's opinion of her should be so important to her beyond the obvious, but it is. He's the only friend she's made in her new life and were he to abandon her due to a defect of character, she wasn't likely to survive very well. Beth absolutely believes in death by loneliness as much as she believes that honesty is the only way to live. Which means she's providing context to her possibly too quick an answer. "Firs' of all... I don' hear people really good. Mos' of da time if I no can see deir mout' or deir eyes, den I... well. You say 'Wan some coffee?' an' I might heah you say 'bring him loam fossils'. Makes collectin' information an' sharin' it like some weird game of telephone. "Second, people tend t' make fun of me when I talk bird, because it's easier and familiar to me. I'm sure where an' how you grew up, ya undahstan'. Our pigin is nevah much different dan ya creole or cajun. In fact, in academic circle, dat's wha' dey call it, Hawai'ian Creole. But I been told no can speak, no can make conversation li'dat. "An' lastly..." Her gaze drops from his midnight-and-pomegranate eyes, down to his mouth, then down to their feet. Lastly, no one really cares what Beth has to say. She's not the most interesting person in the world, nothing she could want to say is earth-shattering in any way, and there've been people like her, people who have lived with that ugly M word banner over them far longer than she has. "It's kinda rude, an' I find it abhorrent."

[brooklynislandgirl]

69. What turns you off?

Generating Steam Heat || Accepting

The question isn't surprising, not with the way her fingers circle around his wrist and halting the slow climb of his fingers up the trellis of her thigh. Without his gloves there's a combination of textures at the border of her skirt hem. The words are breathed against the length her jaw. Tactile expression that she cannot misunderstand because there's a solidity to it and somehow it bypasses her ears and etches itself full in her brain. She groans almost soundlessly and the hand that had been recently lodged in his hair slides down across his cheek and drops to his shoulder. She pushes herself up and away from him, the sparks between them becoming banked. She's not angry, she's not even annoyed. She wouldn't call it hurt either. She isn't sure what the question makes her feel. "I..I don' really know," she says eventually. She twists her lips to one side, equally ambiguous as her answer as to whether it's a frown or merely a subconscious facial tick. "Mebbe mo' beddah question is wha' works for me. I…I like deep breath-stealin' kisses, gentle bites. I like da way ya hands feel on my skin." She glances up into his face, past his fine features and into those black and red eyes that intrigue her beyond words. "I t'ink dat mebbe I don' like so much how in movies an' in some stories when da man talk stink…ah… say mean stuff. More dan jus' vulgar, but I'm not real use t' talking like dat eiddah. But callin' ya woman a female of loose morals-- s word, uh dat oddah one….means same kine ~implyin' bein' paid for sex~ is really gross." She knows that's muddled but she's not about to spell it out any further than she already has. "Degradation in general. When I work as a nurse I got enough urine an' defecation on me dan I care t' t'ink about an' I don' see it havin' a place when ya try f' make love wi' someone. Don' wan someone who only interested in me because of da family money an' prestige, t'inkin' dat dey can use me like a personal ATM. An…An I don' like roses." She scoots back on the sofa toward its arm, setting him free. "Wha' about you? I mean you have more experience, not da kine of man who get turn what wi' ya charm an' ya handsome good looks, so I feel like ya have way more experience. Are dere any t'ings you really like dat I should know about?"