#Kindly He Spoke|Eric Brandon

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar: Day 14 @ericbrandonrp​

Eric had promised her magic beyond her imagination, and he’d not disappointed. A supremely tall order considering Beth was a creature full of dreams and wishes. She’d been hesitant at first because she doesn’t really like the dark and he told her that the magic happened only after sunset. Then he’d said they’d have to leave Murphy at home, just for a little while, because it wasn’t suited to him. Those two things had her hesitating. Eric cajoled and placated her, promising a swift return if she felt uncomfortable. So eventually they’d bundled up and headed out into the cold, Viennese evening. At first she’d not understood exactly what he’d meant. Sure the windows of the stores were decorated and there was a lively conviviality amongst all the other people out and about but she would hardly consider that special. After all, she’d come here from New York City, a place that knew how to compound different traditions and religions into an enormous spectacle. Perhaps it was uncharitable of her to make comparisons, telling him of the things she missed, like ice skating at Lincoln Centre or enjoying freshly cooked latkes at Carnegie’s. Then there was the giant tree and the Rockettes, the living Nativities and the carolers. Or how she loved to wander around FAO Schwarz buying gifts that would go to different children’s charities. He listened and remained agreeable. Eric even smiled now and again and teased her a bit about how his city’s history and beauty could hardly compare to such modern wonders as those she speaks about. It raises a little more colour in her face than the warm drinks that they share can take credit for. She wends her arm through his and leans into him. Savours the heat that radiates from his frame. She asks him to tell her about his childhood holidays and what it was like for him to grow up in such different places. She has no way of knowing if what he tells her is the truth but there’s a good mixture of really touching moments and funny little anecdotes. He asks what she wants for Christmas, and if she’ll be attending Mass. She says it’s likely she will, taking any chance to reconnect with her brother’s spirit, even if she doesn’t fully understand the language. But what she wants is harder to answer. She’s never really wanted for everything, and yet she’s a person who could own or buy literally anything she wanted; proof of that was being able to completely uproot her life, move to a foreign county, and not have a single worry, except for her visa running out. And the only thing she can’t do that with is reunite with her brother, though she’s not about to say that aloud. Even Santa Claus, whom she absolutely believes in, can’t give that to her. And maybe her spirits dampen as she shrugs. “Oh, I dunno. I t’ink I’m pretty content. Have every’ing I can reasonably wish for already. How ‘bout you?” The lights come on around them, raining down over them in streams of golden light. She pauses in place, hands coming up to cover her mouth as she gasps in wonder and surprise, the entirety of her being aglow. Eric leans down close to her ear and answers. “Magic.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@ericbrandonrp {{xx}}

While he checks his phone, Beth settles in her side of the bed and quietly thanks Murphy for affording her the room. The beautiful dog is almost as big as she is and she wonders if Eric hates only getting a third of the bed. The sheets are cool and crisp and gently scented with lavender. She leans over and presses a kiss to his shoulder. When Eric poses for her, she can't help but bring a hand up and smothers a giggle even as it's born, her shoulders shaking slightly from the effort. She nods vigorously before taking the phone and doing her own quick search. When she finds one of the pictures she liked, she showed it to him before slipping the device back into his hand. "Tell me, if I dye my hair blonde, we couldn't do dis as a couple's costume? An' if ya nevah seen it, I'm gonna make you watch it."

[brooklynislandgirl]

 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒

I Can't Get Enough of You Baby || Accepting

She finishes chewing the bite of cherry turnover and regards him, fingers toying with the rim of her coffee. It isn't a stretch to see why the question comes up and why he would choose to ask it in such a way as to make it easily playful, something she could shrug off if she felt the timing of it was wrong. And it's not, not really. She can understand that little intimacies between them continue to grow, from hand-holding to kisses to last night when she'd curled up in bed with him rather than returning to her own flat. She awoke to his arm around her waist, holding her close, and his face pressed into the back of her neck. His breath had been so warm, so soothing, she'd been loathe to let him get out of bed. "Yeah, mebbe. Dunno when...but...yeah." Her smile is soft but he can hear her heart beating, can't he? "Question is... you t'ink I'm wor't waitin' for?"

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth x Eric for the ship meme!

Come Together || Accepting Stealing Hearts || Eric Brandon

~ send me a ship ~

Rate: NOTP | Ew | Nah | Alright | Cute | I LOVE them | They are perfect | OTP | THEY ARE MY BEAUTIFUL, SWEET CHILDREN AND I SHALL PROTECT THEM AS THEIR MOTHER

Who’s the big spoon and who’s the little spoon? The whole bed affair is a complicated one. She glances at it, and then to Eric. "Uhm." He nods and says he knows and begs-bargains Murphy down off the spot, though he does have to resort to treats. Eventually they curl up. Relish the warmth of the other. There's space, Beth is very aware of this, and even now isn't sure where to put herself, but it seems like Murphy has other ideas. He jumps up on the other side of her and wriggles ~inch by inch~ until she has no choice but to nest back-to chest, with Eric. "Hi," he murmurs into her hair. "Hi," she whispers back. His arms are long enough or maybe Beth is just that small that he can hold her and still pet the dog. {Eric is the big spoon, Beth is the medium spoon, Murphy is the small one} Adult!Verse heights "Oh for goodness sake," she murmurs, hopping up and down in front of the closet. The frustration seems to summon Eric from the balcony, and when he asks, she waves frustrated hands in an interpretive dance to explain: "One of Auntie's maids or butler or wha'evah put my hat on the top ~stop laughing!~ shelf. Eric comes to her rescue and barely has to lean forward to bring it down for her. It has nothing to do with the foot of height difference between them ~six-something versus five foot~ and everything maybe in wanting to brush against her. To add insult to injury, he holds the hat hostage for a kiss. { Eric is 6ft0 and Beth is 5ft flat} Who falls asleep while watching romcoms? While being an Art Historian and curator serving museums all over Europe is a gruelling job and one that takes Eric away more often than Beth would admit to liking. By Contrast, when he is home, Beth works at least eight, normally twelve, and sometimes up to sixteen or eighteen hours at a single shift. And when they manage to have time to watch silly little movies that do not require immense effort or concentration? Eric drapes the blanket over her as she dozes on the far end of the couch, her feet in his lap, midway through the set up. {Beth typically falls asleep during most movies, as it's usually the only time she's still long enough} Who suggests watching romcoms? "I pick dinnah, so you pick da movie," she says, handing him the remote. He gives her a measured stare for a few minutes. She can't tell exactly what or why he's doing it but there's something sharp to the scrutiny. Then he nods and flashes her a smile. "I've got the perfect one." He logs into his account and pulls up the menu while she divides the fried rice and honey-walnut shrimp.

She doesn't catch the name of it, but who doesn't like Cary Grant, Grace Kelly, and Alfred Hitchcock? {Technically To Catch A Thief isn't exactly a romcom but it is. But it isn't. But is. Also Eric and Beth are egalitarian enough to trade opportunities.} Who makes all the decisions?

Beth crawls fingernail by fingernail across the bedroom carpet while Eric valiantly tries to stop her a: by grabbing at her ankles, and b: trying not to touch the one leg lest she actually become angry at him. Meanwhile Murphy adds to the chaos of play by barking and dancing around the pair of them. It's been over an hour and Beth has actually forgotten what it is that got all of this started. Her competitive streak has been engaged and she is bound and determined to win. So in a surprising display, she turns and flops onto her back, the foot of the leg that is off-limits grazing the inside of his thigh into Dangerous Territory as she narrows her eyes as seductively as possible. "You could give up now, an' mebbe I won' be so hard on ya..." Eric's own smile is absolutely the Devil. "Funny, I can't say the same." {I literally cannot provide any more context than this.} Who carries the other one to bed when they fell asleep on the couch? One of the skills that Beth doesn't mention that comes from being a nurse is the ability to transport a patient by hand with no gurney or help up to and including two-to-three times heavier than her own body-weight. It isn't comfortable or pretty for anyone involved and there has been a time or two she's thrown out her back doing so. But it doesn't mean she can't. Standing there after coming home from a late shift, she watches Eric sleep. He's fallen asleep waiting up for her as evidenced by the once chilled wine and two glasses on the table that have gone untouched. Like this, there's a soft innocence to his face and she wonders if he's as enamoured of her the times he's caught her like this as she is right now. She isn't going to wake him, or move him on her own. Instead she carefully removes her scrubs and folds them. Puts them on the table next to the Cabernet. Then she lifts carefully tucks herself beside him, pulling the knitted afghan over them both. {Clearly this one goes to Eric, for the above reasons}

Who proposes?

Whenever the topic comes up, she shies away from it. They might pass by a bridal boutique and he tells her she'd look lovely in creamy Irish lace, or how those flowers in that window there would compliment her. They've attended a few weddings now together to wish her coworkers good luck but she never tries to catch the bouquet, or seems to care if he's missed catching the garter belt. It isn't because she thinks he's 'damaged goods' or that the Church frowns upon divorced people getting married. She stays quietly. She is making a life with him, isn't she? But she never uses the L word. Nor does she mention being a wife. {If Eric and Beth were to get married, it would be a marathon to talk her into it, and he'd have to be the one intent on it.}

Will they have a big wedding? She did once say that she always imagined a sea-side wedding when she was little. She wanted the customs of her Kanaka, invoking sea and sky and the ʻāina. She explains the meaning behind the Oli chants, but doesn't sing them for him. She tells him of blowing the Pu, a conch shell. She talks about leis. And then her eyes get misty, the spring green of them darkening to a sort of amber hue. The laugh that comes then is one edged as sharp and inwardly turned as any knife could be. She changes the subject and doesn't talk about it again. {Even if she was enthusiastic and went wild, there would be maybe five total people attending the wedding on her side, so the size really would depend on whether or not Eric has 10-1000 friends he could whip up.} Who accidentally eats all the popcorn while sharing a box? She licks her finger tips. And if it weren't horribly uncouth, she might lick Eric's lips as well, before smiling apologetically. She hadn't realised she'd eaten the entire batch of hurricane-popcorn almost by herself. "F'give me, f' I promise to make anoddah batch?" {For someone who is so small and who eats so very little, Beth will ABSOLUTELY destroy popcorn, especially if it's Island Style}

Who pays for dates?

"No, I insist." And really, she is. Beth does not exactly know what's in her bank accounts, she has people for that. They handle things like bills and receipts and report once a year in tedious meetings that she really doesn't pay attention to like she should. She could go absolutely insane and still not spend half her trust in a single lifetime. And maybe, just maybe, she doesn't believe she's worth going through the trouble for. So Eric agrees. But then he picks up the next check. {Beth will insist on paying for anything she can, but if Eric fusses, she'll give in. I think they end up splitting everything fairly evenly}

Who’s the most romantic?

"Oh, dey absolutely beautiful," Beth says with her closed lip smile. She isn't lying, the flowers and the arrangement are gorgeous. There's a hint of a blush in her cheeks and when she looks at him, her eyes glow like starlight. These were ordinary, no special occasion flowers, made even more sweet by the fact that he's soaking from the rain that he didn't strictly speaking have to go out into just to bring them by. "Come in, let me get ya towel, some tea t' ward off a cold."

{Eric is probably the more romantic one, though Beth is pretty sappy.}

Random headcanon

Some of Beth's favourite memories of their trip to Ireland was watching the sunrise on the beach, wearing one of his sweaters. There was something different about him while they were there, something relaxed and stress free that she doesn't see often in their day to day lives. She's planning another trip to surprise him with on their upcoming anniversary.

[brooklynislandgirl]

1,6,9,17!

Little More Conversation || Accepting

1. Does your muse have any extra turn ons?

It’s a quiet night, the rain preventing them from hitting the surf properly. She’s told him that the perfect time to be out on the water is before a storm, during ~Especially the Atlantic~ is too cold, too dangerous, and immediately after, the waves are far too glassy. But to ease the little lines between his brows, she’s suggested watching some movies, even going so far to offer to forgo the subtitles. While helping her make the hurricane popcorn, Eric is so kind as to say she can keep them on.

Maybe there should have been more concern about what they were watching, and not how.

The first is the musical adaptation of Sweeney Todd, and despite the fact that Beth is unfathomably coy when it comes to certain subjects, she makes no effort to hide how she squirms a little, giggles over, and has absolute heart-eyes for both Johnny Depp’s titular Demon Barber, or Helena Bonham Carter’s Mrs Lovett, especially when it comes to the blood and the glinting silver blade. Or how she glances over at him with her fey sort of smile, and sings snippets of the score. Maybe he should have realised there was a running theme when she offered to put on The Red Dragon. {{Specifically Beth has a thing for knife-play, breath-play, blood, biting}} ~*~

6. Does your muse like to roleplay in the bedroom? What archetype or character do they like playing?

“Oh, I love role playin’!” Her hands come together as she claps excitedly a time or two, and then she takes off at a quick pace. “Whenevah I use f’ play wi’ my braddah, he always play like Paladin or Hell Knight an’ one time as a monk. I t’ink he jus’ really like playin’ Lawful Neutral kine. An’ he always, always make me play da cleric so he have a dedicated healer, but in my heart of hearts... I always wanna be eiddah a barbarian or mebbe some kine slinky rogue. I could pick locks, an’ poison my enemies, an’ steal alla stuff!, but I would do it so dat I could support orphans an’ widows an’ save ‘em from da tyranny of da evil king.” {{Beth has never heard about romantic role-playing and wouldn’t necessarily understand what to do or how to play.}} ~*~

9: What is your muse’s preferred setting for sex? Do they keep it in the bedroom or are they more adventurous?

The sheer giggles. Soft and innocently and almost entirely too girlish for a woman her age, even if that age is nebulous. It heralds the blush that arrives like a whirlwind into her cheeks, and she takes a moment to fuss with tucking one lock of dark hair behind her ear. “I mean... dere is a lot of land in our family, mos’ of it secluded, no one ‘round for miles. An’ I do have a fondness for bein’ out in nature.” ~*~

17: Has your muse ever had an awkward moment during sex? What happened and how did they handle it?

She manages to stave off the sound she’d just made at the next question, and everything about her shifts. Her chin tucks down and the colour in her cheeks darken. Her shoulders round forward. Her arms wrap around her waist before she glances up into Eric’s eyes. Her words come slow, measured. Full of trace confusion. “I uhm... I’ve nevah....haven’t... you know dat, right? I...I mebbe mention it before?” Her experiences are not vast, nor are they entirely alone. Having lived with her brother most of her life, she’s been privy to the sounds people make. She’s caught glimpses and from those she’s sought out more data in the forms of videos and novels and televised media. There was that time in medical school, before she ended up dropping her residency... “I’ve...ah... tried time or two...to...replicate what I saw... but it never work out da way it was suppose to. One time, back when I was studyin’ t’ become a doctor... somehow I got my presentation mix up wi’ my personal journal. Half my class saw a dream I had written out on da large smart board behind me. When I realise why dey were laughin’ an’ pointin’ an’ talkin’... I sorta want to die on da spot.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@ericbrandonrp   {{xx}}

She startles like a deer following a gunshot when he cries out and instinctively she seizes up and pulls away, a look of both fear and surprise resting in her eyes. For that solitary instant, it’s as if she’s actual hurt him, a girl who became a monster. She doesn’t understand the nature of his arms around her but it’s all that keeps her from bolting from him and running as if her life depended on it. She crumples beside him like a leaf. And that’s when it hits her, that he’s having a bit of a laugh and that no harm’s been done. Her heart beats wildly in her throat and she chokes on the first stir of a laugh. She wiggles one hand free and uses it to cover the wide grin that begins to take shape beneath it. He catches her better though with that look, and she doesn’t glance away. The threat gets under her skin. “Prove it,” she murmurs.

[brooklynislandgirl]

@ericbrandonrp {{xx}}

Innocence is ever the shield of the young, the naive, the dreamers. All three of which could be said to apply to the nurse. “Well, I mean, dere’s kink in da intestines, sure. An’ mebbe da whole stomach bits but I don’ t’ink dat what ya sayin’, is it?” She grins against his hair where she places a feathery kiss to the russet strands. “Does it evah boddah you, bein’ compare to oddah kine?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

4. What is your oddest turn on? 7. Would you play strip poker? 13. Is there anything sexual that most people consider "normal" that you'd consider out of your comfort zone?

A Little Light/A Little Dark || -

IV. What is your oddest turn on?

It comes as no surprise that Eric finally asks her. It isn't like she hasn't noticed that he's been...well. He's shown interest in her in that way for a while now and Beth knows she comes across as sometimes entirely absent, sometimes cryptic in returning the varied forms of affection offered to her.

And that feeling rises in her belly, the one that makes her a little queasy with anxiousness because she doesn't really know the answer. And that turns into her pulse throbbing throughout her body and raising armies of shame to lay siege to her cheeks. "I...ah." Starts...and stops. Starts again. "I don' really...know...for sure. Like...I can look a' someone ~boy or girl~ an' I know dey attractive or not, by cultural standard. Like you...tall, at'letic build, dark auburn hair, blue eyes, face lookin' like a talented sculptor's mastah-work...I'd put money on da fact dat ya got people comin' an' goin' all day dat...well. Have a distinct lust for ya. An' I can see ya, I know ya handsome...but...it's not..." She wipes dry the plate he just washed, and half shrugs. The movement is inwardly turned. A critical statement about herself, and not him. "I'm not sure I'm really capable of havin' d'ose desire, ya know? Not back in kid time, not now. An' da few times I...ah... uhm... try self....love... it wasn' any kind of person in my mind, or any specific t'ing. Jus'...like... feelings. Love an' trust...and comfort, da kine ya get from like ya bes' friend. An' even den...no kine really happen." The queasy feeling doesn't go away, but it does completely impair her ability to look Eric in the eye, because she's afraid to see what's there. ~*~

VII. Would you play strip poker?

Rain lashes the Irish coast making it too dangerous to take him out onto the water, and that is something they both recognise since the storm had blown in the night before. However, the hotel suite has a cozy sitting area and a fire which burns cheerfully, keeping the gloom and the damp at bay. Beth had managed to half drowse herself with the flames and the tea readily available, and almost didn't catch Eric's voice in the stillness. When the words do manage to trickle in and she parses the hearing mishaps to make sense of it, she manages a small laugh, and slants a half-lidded teasing gaze toward him.

"Mistah Brandon, how forward of ya," she says between winsome giggles. "I have, an' would do so again. But only if ya a brave man an' not afraid t' get beaten by one small wahine." Many people would say Beth has an exceptionally lucky streak when it comes to games of chance, particularly with cards. If she were to tell the truth, it's simply a matter of statistics and counting, and math has always been her strong suit. ~*~

XIII. Is there anything sexual that most people consider "normal" that you'd consider out of your comfort zone? In hindsight, maybe Beth shouldn't have ignored the postings about private beaches, though in her own defense, she hadn't realised that's what they said until she and Eric had crossed over to the Dark Side. And by that, Beth means... until they came across the other couple. It was clear by the amount of visible flesh that could be seen that it was in fact a couple, who on their stretch of sandy heaven, had felt like being intimate. Unfortunately that intimacy involved the man's bits being all up in the girl's quite spectacular cleavage, and there was fervent evidence of their passions. Which immediately set Beth to blushing. Then turning. Then taking Eric's hand and running back the way they came. She could not say how long or far they'd gone until she collapses against one of the wooden legs of the pier they'd come from, breathlessly panting and trying to laugh and trying to not be so mortified and so many other things. She still holds onto his arm and has to lean forward to slow her breath enough to get even the few words she can out. "Is....is dat....a...uh....da kine? Like...do people...actually..." She can't though. She can't imagine saying it aloud even as she tries to scrub the mental image out of her head. And she's fairly sure she knows how bodies are supposed to go together. Maybe she's a little embarrassed that she doesn't have enough breast tissue to even make such a thing possible without considerable effort. "Have you...evah...I mean..." She lets go of him and collapses down on the sand beneath. "Like...really?"

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth x Eric for the moodboard meme 🥺

No reason to get excited The thief, he kindly spoke There are many here among us Who feel that life is but a joke But, uh, but you and I, we've been through that And this is not our fate So let us stop talkin' falsely now The hour's getting late, hey

Hey

All along the watchtower Princes kept the view

[brooklynislandgirl]

Buying lunch? That's sweet but no, thanks. I mean your Irish surfer friend, the stray cat you met in Vienna. He isn't what he wants you to believe. What did he tell you? Import-export business? You should really start questioning his statements, Beth.

Better yet, do yourself a favour and drop him before he's dragging you down with him.

Whispers || Always Accepting

Few things make Beth angry. The first in that short list of crimes and the one that resonates most deeply of course, is abuse of children, animals, and the elderly. Beings typically incapable of defending themselves. The second is specifically a sub category of the first, which is shark finning. The third is the abuse of women. The next is wanton destruction of nature, damaging the environment because of greed and the right of so called eminent domain. And not first but certainly not least, is being made to bear witness of the harassment of her friends and loved ones. There's a certain tone the text takes. One she's heard all of her life where people think they know better than she does about how she should live her life, and with whom. And Beth, quite frankly, is a little tired of it. She stands in front of the mirror in the cafe's little restroom, waits until her brows unknot, until some of the colour drains out, until she has a modicum of control over the rush of rage sweeping through her. And then, she answers. {Text: Nonnymouse} I find it kind of comical that you don't have the stones to say any of this to my face and yet think you know me well enough to make decisions regarding my well being, and to pass judgement on someone I am quite close with. It rings incredibly hollow and I have heard this kind of thing before. But let me tell you... {Text: Nonnymouse} The Admiral has never quite succeeded in controlling me the way he wishes to, and I am going to assume you are another in a long line of investigators or security personnel he's hired to make sure that HIS interests are being protected and there's no whiff of scandal on the family name... {Text: Nonnymouse} So I'm going to tell you what I've told all of them in the past and maybe you'll listen. I happen to /adore/ stray cats. And who wouldn't want an Irishman who can surf? No one is who they want someone to believe. We all have things we wish weren't true, and I fully believe in time that Eric will let me see those things. {Text: Nonnymouse} As for the fact that I should be questioning his statements? Maybe you should question why you're someone else's lapdog interfering in someone else's life. Unless of course you don't work for the Admiral and are in fact someone Eric knows, who is jealous of him. {Text: Nonnymouse} So essentially do yourself a favour and see your way out of MY business. I don't play nice once provoked and I happen to really enjoy Eric's company. So how about you just...bite me, and move on. If you'll excuse me, I have to go walk our dog.

[brooklynislandgirl]

@ericbrandonrp   {{xx}}

He...thinks it’s a joke. That she’s some kind of...that maybe she is, too. And the ringing in her ears is so loud she can only hear her own heartbeat above the sound, and that has mostly to do with the fact that she can feel the blood coursing through her, seconds away from immolating her from inside out. She tries to hold her head up a little higher. Tries to steal some of the imperiousness that runs rampant through the male side of her family. Only it doesn’t ring true. Oh she’s graceful as she stands and turns to the one of the auctioneer’s associates and opens her little purse. As she pulls out the leather case of her chequebook. As she opens it and signs her price in beautiful purple ink, the kind that shimmers softly with glitter mixed into it.

Maybe she’s making a huge mistake though when she glances at the other woman she almost wants to smile. She can see the writhing jealousy written on the woman’s face. And several others. Her mouth doesn’t move that way. She turns back toward the associate. “The Rileys don’t make jokes.” Finally she looks up at Eric and there’s an edge of hurt in her gaze. She keeps it out of her voice as she raises her hands and gives him applause. Others begin to adopt the action and soon it’s a minor bit of thunder as the Auctioneer turns to tell Eric he’s free for the evening. Beth doesn’t stay though. Once she’s handed over the fee, she picks up her wrap and turns on her heel. She leaves the ballroom in favour of finding the hotel’s bar.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Token meme: Eric would wear a necklace with a seashell on it that they collected at the beach when Beth taught him how to surf.

Token Meme || Accepting

It really was almost too easy.

Eric’s face turned up toward the sun, body still drying from their latest sojourn out into the waves. He stands out starkly against the dark towel, warm from the clear sky only now starting to crowd over. The wail of the gulls and the hushed roar of sea and wind together is her life-beat. Makes her more ephemeral and more joyful than anywhere they’ve been together until now. And because of that, she wants to be playful. She drapes herself like sail canvas, tucking the upturned soles of her feet under the back of his thighs, her knees nudging his ribs. A few drops of sea rain down from her hair as she places her newest treasure on his chest. A small and rare purple top cowrie shell, that has been unearthed further down the beach where their boards are planted and their sandcastle is waiting to be kissed by high tide.

“Mastah Eric, quite contrary,  how ya garden grow? Wi’ silver bells an’ cowrie shell An’ pretty boards all in a row.”

She grins at him and leans down, pressing her nose tip to his for a breath then rising again like a dusky wave, laughing all the while.

[brooklynislandgirl]

"Hate me, Love me, Miss me."

Love And Hate and Everything || Accepting

“I hate... ya fear of waddah, how it no feel like a second home, dat kine dat let’s you breathe for real in dis weird, bus’ up world. I hate it because somet’ing like dat means it was used to hurt ya, t’ scare ya, an’ I wanna change dat for you. “I love...you got dis amazing free spirit dat shines so bright. In ya eyes. In ya smile. Ya jus’ take hold of somet’ing an’ ya run wi’ it an’ I t’ink dat’s beautiful. In fact I wish I was more like you, in dat way. Is...is like ya got a flicker of Madam Pele’s fire in ya an’ it burns and burns.” She looks down and away before answering his last question, and her eyes are glassy. He dances on the edge of her fear, the truth she doesn’t want to admit that hurts her more than any joke made at her expense, the name calling, the weird looks. If she were to tell the truth, not even the idea of eternal darkness is as terrible as losing someone she cares about, and worse, them leaving her ~as they always do~ by choice.

“I...I would miss da sound of your laugh. Dat rich and warm sound. No is elegant or sophisticated but it’s so real, da way it crinkles ya cheek an’ da corner of your eyes, an’ da dimples. I mean I would miss every kine about ya, but dat would be da most irreplaceable kine.”

Her voice cracks and she falls silent, tense and anxious now, worried as to why he’s brought this up. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “You’re leavin’, aren’t ya?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

"what's our song?"

Sing Me a Soft Lullaby || Accepting

I. Rambling Rover || Silly Wizard

Oh, there're sober men and plenty, And drunkards barely twenty, There are men of over ninety That have never yet kissed a girl. But give me a ramblin' rover, Frae Orkney down to Dover. We will roam the country over And together we'll face the world.

II. Satellite || Guster

Shining like a work of art Hanging on a wall of stars Are you what I think you are? You're my satellite You're riding with me tonight Passenger side, lighting the sky Always the first star that I find You're my satellite  Elevator to the moon Whistling our favorite tune Trying to get a closer view III. Where Are You Going || Dave Matthews

Where are you going, Where do you go. Are you looking for answers, To questions, under the stars Well if along the way, You are grown weary, You can rest with me Until a brighter day When you ok. I am no superman, I have no answers for you. I am no hero, And that's for sure. But I know one thing, That's where you are, is where I belong. I do know Where you go, Is where I want to be.

[brooklynislandgirl]

[brooklynislandgirl]

[X]

Gotta photograph, picture of... || Accepting