#Mahalo!A <3333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[brooklynislandgirl]

"Would you ever make a dirty video for a guy? If he was away and missing you?"

Things That Make You Squirm || Accepting

"For any guy? Absolutely not. Despite my abject hatred of mos' clothes, I'm not da kine girl who go round offering my body to jus' anyone, wheddah t' touch it, or look a' it or any variation." It's taken a long time for her to get comfortable in her own skin, and she still uses a good deal of mana to hide what she considers her flaws, like her leg. No one is allowed to touch the scar, not Andy. Not Frank, no one. And despite all of that growth, she still prefers to shed her skin and be something, anything other than...just *Beth*. But that isn't something she really talks about and she doesn't know if Frank would look at her the same way if he knew how easy it was for her to change. He might see her as a monster, as something less than human- which isn't far from the truth- and a thing to be rid of. "But for you? Yes. Migh' need a lil...direction, some idea of wha' you might wan see. Eiddah before you leave or in some lettah, which is a dyin' art we should all get back into. I'd turn it into a whole Vegas floor-show for you, too. A slow reveal, close ups for..." The look on her face though, when she realises she's saying these things outloud. Her heart beating so loudly and far too quickly, her hand coming up to splay across her chest as if she could force everything to be still. "I didn't mean to...I normally don't...oh, God, Frank."

[brooklynislandgirl]

It's a good thing that she'd had time to make coffee and sip half a cup when he turns up when the sun is still mostly the idea of a perfect summer day on the horizon. She presses a still steaming cup into his hand and flashes him a radiant smile. "Nevah t'ought you aks me." Yes it's pidgin and she knows Brian isn't a fan most of the time but she's only being playful. She kisses his cheek. "Be right back." The flimsy little dress she wears can hardly be called that. And the flip-flops ~dey slippahs, Bri~ are not meant for bike riding but it's enough. It doesn't take much effort to add one of her short boards to rest besides his and the beach bag she's got has enough wax in it to coat her entire quiver of the ones she had shipped across the Pacific. San Diego sounds perfect. The Admiral is still on the east coast, and Andy tends to avoid anything remotely near Navy or Marine duty stations. She is surprised when they get there that the beach is empty. It makes it feel that much cosier, and she loves all the effort that Brian has put into the birthday surf. It only occurs to her far later that he'd put so much forethought and planning into it, from the sign in the sand that the ocean kisses away, to the light lunch and beers he just happened to have. And maybe by days end, when they eventually have to head back to LA, Beth's only regret is just how mad Andy's going to be for her spending the entire day with Brian. It probably wasn’t any surprise then, as the sun flirted with the horizon that Beth tugged Brian to a stop and stole a small, chaste little kiss as the perfect end to a perfect birthday.

"Happy Birthday, babe." Brian showed up at her house early that morning, his surfboard attached to his bike. "How about we ditch the warden and go check out the waves at San Onofre?"

@brooklynislandgirl

[brooklynislandgirl]

[brooklynislandgirl]

★ If you'd like! <3 For whichever verse you're feeling.

Little Every Day Blessings || Accepting The Major || Benjamin Tallmadge

I am quite fond of you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d accept your courtship // Marital Duties would not be horrid with you // I’d accept your pledged troth // I’m worried about you // You confound me, Sir! // You’re annoying // I pity grieve with you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you The Cause my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re quite handsome // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re chivalrous // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

~*~

The School Teacher || Ben "Not A Serial Killer" Tallmadge

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity grieve with you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[brooklynislandgirl]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

[brooklynislandgirl]

The Nurse Shark || Beth Riley

RESIDENCE: Autumnworth House, which is a 46-room sandstone manor constructed in Gotham Height in the early 1900s. It sits on 50 acres of private woodland within Bristol County.

TYPE OF BED: Oak canopied Alaskan king-size bed. Only Beth doesn't really 'sleep' here as she is a chronic insomniac more likely to fall asleep in the living area sofa. Or in the window seat of her room, where she curled up with a good book or her knitting to watch the evening rain.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: Being born and raised on a tropical island then moving to the east coast of the mainland was never easy and Beth is almost always cold. There are three blankets and a comforter, as well as the most luxurious sheets money can by. Most of the time, she has at least one blanket within reach anywhere else she might fall asleep.

NUMBER OF PILLOWS: There are approximately eight to twelve pillows on the bed at any given point in time, and she actually makes it to the bed, at least one body pillow that she sprawls over.

TYPE OF CLOTHING: Much to the housekeeper's perpetual vexation, Beth starts shedding clothes the instant she walks in through the door, always starting with her shoes at the door. When not expecting company, she usually pads around the house barefoot and in one of her brother's egregiously large tee-shirts. Sometimes with something on beneath. If she is expecting someone or has company, she will wear something slinky, soft, and probably french with a matching robe.

DO THEY SLEEP WITH COMPANY?: Beth says this is such an inappropriate question. {{She would if someone else offered}}

DO THEY SLEEP BETTER WITH COMPANY?: Beth suffers from chronic insomnia, as stated previously, as well as sleep paralysis and night-terrors. She spent the first sixteen years of her life sleeping beside her brother, and even occasionally afterwards when he was at home on leave. Moral of the story is that if she trusts the other person, absolutely she sleeps better with them beside her. Note we did not say *they* would sleep better.

DOES IT MATTER WHERE THEY SLEEP?: Absolutely.

WHAT DO THEY DO IF THEY CANNOT FALL ASLEEP?: Beth might read all night long. She might knit a dozen or more sweaters/blankets to donate to charity. She might lie on the floor listening to music, or she might...*ahem* garden. Depends on just how many weeks days she's been awake.

FREQUENT DREAMS, NIGHTMARES: Since infancy, Beth has had a night terror about a dark shadowy shape stalking her while she's in bed. She is absolutely convinced that if it ever manages to reach her head, that she will die.

DEEP SLUMBER OR NAPS: Beth doesn't know what deep slumber is. She can and does catnap whenever possible.

WHEN DO THEY SLEEP: as never as possible. {{she cannot think of a better, more realistic answer than this.}}

WHAT COULD WAKE THEM UP: A mouse passing gas in the deepest bowels of Blackgate Penitentiary. Someone complaining about '90s Grunge in sign language in Seattle might do it too. She is a light sleeper.

EARLY OR LATE RISER: It doesn't matter if your eyes never quite close, now, does it? "Not a early bird or a night owl but some sorta permanently exhausted pigeon, try an' mahalo."

~*~ Tagged by: my sweet C over at @nightmarefuele Tagging: Hoist the Colours and Raise the Black

[brooklynislandgirl]

A Little Sentimental || Accepting

The first thing Beth notices is the panda with the cats and it makes her smile, though she recognises Tabby’s handwriting anywhere. Andy and Houdini do not quite see eye to eye. He thinks her cat has something against him, that the cat hates men. Beth doesn’t see it. Houdini is the cutest kitten to ever exist even if he is nearly as big as she is. And an old man by cat standards. She shifts her attention to the message. It’s only a few seconds before her eyes grow misty and her lower lip trembles. Yes, she believes people still do. She would write them if she had a reason to do so, and she can’t be the only one who finds sexting a gross insta-fix to long form love letters. Tabby expresses her own feelings in the next line, it’s almost like they don’t need to have the conversation.It’s the rest of the message though that gets Beth deeply, and she’s not sure what to do with that as Tabby isn’t there for her to hug.She picks up a sheet of hand-milled lavender hued paper, and her signature pen.          Dear Tabby,      This, too, is a love letter.  You are the kindest, sweetest, and funniest person I know and I am grateful that you are my friend. I am looking forward to the day that you’re my sister in name as you’ve been that for all these years. I love you. I love you. I love you. I also respect you, and how you hold your own despite what life does. And if my brother is ever stupid, just hit him upside the head with a slippah and marry me instead. I’d make you such a good wife. We would have to order out, though. Hope that isn’t a deal breaker. ~Always, Beth.

[brooklynislandgirl]

51. How do you think the RP/Fandom community has grown or changed since you started?

53. How would you respond if someone is rude to you or has done you wrong?

Memes from Another Mun || -

51: How do you think the RP/Fandom community has grown or changed since you started? Picture it... The Internets...20...a long time ago. When the web was wide and new and we'd just eked our way out of AOL and dial-up hell. Okay maybe a little later than that. We RP ancestors huddled around the virtual fires of our little cliques, telling our stories and painting our digital cave paintings in fandoms that spanned as far as the eye could see. It was a wild time born of primordial chaos. You had ninjas and neko-dhamphire-dragon assassins hanging out in the "rafters", vampires drinking bloodwyne while their translucent orbs took in the stunning visages of elves and Illithids and...and it was some crazy shit. I could put up a 500 page doctoral thesis about the way rp communities used to be, where everything was a cross-over, and canons almost literally did not exist, and if they did...they were the VERY odd duck out, most folks shying away from them. Every single person had their 'home' and then sometimes someone would be slighted and groups would go to "war", elaborate flaming/call outs/actual written storylines and so on. But there were rules, and there was a certain...decorum. And everyone seemed to understand it was a collaborate effort. Some of the prose might have been blindingly purple, and others might have been one liners, and sometimes just numbers.... It was quite creative and I look on those days, clearly, with fond memories. Nowadays, I think the writing has gotten...if not better, then certainly more focused. Like Pangaea splitting apart and forming the continents we know today, you can find a fandom for just about everything, and it's all a little weirder than it was before. I do feel a pain in my heart that a lot of people can't put their differences aside to have fun, we aren't as supportive of new people as we could be. We treat OCs like a disease but I kind of laugh at that because EVERYONE's CANON is literally someone's OC. A part of me misses the old days. And a part of me is glad that the hobby is still flourishing, and people are still being creative, because at the end of the day, we're all just trying to live our best fictional lives out here. <inserts the Judds Song, "Grandpa, Tell Me About The Good Old Days"> ~*~

53: How would you respond if someone is rude to you or has done you wrong? I mean, it depends on the act of rudeness. If people wanna talk smack behind my back, that's fine. I can't stop anyone. And I don't care to police things beyond my control. If it's put in an anonymous ask? Oh my sour summer child, I will peel paint with the strength of my vitriol as I tear that down as soon as I come back from grabbing some coffee. I will have citations, indexes, Venn diagrams of exactly where you fucked up and how, and a whole-ass TEDtalk about why this is neither friendly or correct. I am an adult, I do not enjoy talking out both sides of my mouth, and I expect people who have a problem with me to be the same way, and straight up just tell me. Not everything has to be on a public forum, sometimes discretion is still a virtue. If someone at least tries to be a reasonable human being and addresses a concern, a mistake, etc. and comes to me and says hey, I got this problem...the I will do my best to listen, and if I've done any harm {real or imagined} or overstepped a boundary, I will apologise. Most of the time though, I will respond to another person in the same manner with which I am treated.

[brooklynislandgirl]

ง ( ⌓̈ )ง: Are they physically strong when it comes to fights?

Jurassic Asks || The Lost Meme

The answer is yes, and no. Beth's body has been conditioned after a lifetime of hard-work that everyone knows she never had to do. Chest compressions, patient transfer {sometimes people two to five times her size, and often the hospital is so short-staffed that what might take three nurses, two doctors and various EMTs or paramedics might in reality be one or two people in general}. Beth holds a purple belt in karate though she quit when she was still young. She had no real passion for the discipline, and maybe if it had been kuʻialua, she might have been happier to learn. Even so, she has not forgotten the skills she's picked up. Generally she doesn't think to use them. Then there's her inclination of having arrived at a fight or flight situation, she will augment her own strength and stamina by temporarily tweaking her muscles, density, and occasionally grace or quickness with a very standard Better Body rote. While she cannot maintain it for long else risk harming herself, sometimes it gives her the edge she needs. I will say that for the most part, she tries to fight fairly, depending on her opponent. Humans sort of get a pass, and she would choose to incapacitate rather than harm. That does not mean she will not use fang and claw if she must. ~*~ In her more mortal, less magickal/empowered life, Beth can throw a punch if she needs to but is more likely to break bones in her hand, and let us be honest with ourselves. At five foot flat and not even a full one hundred pounds {Beth is a healthy weight...for an eight to ten year old child}, she's really not doing anything but the imitation of a very flat pancake should she get into a physical altercation.

Fortunately, she is blessed with a lot of pretty buff men she calls friends, and most of them are more than happy to take up her part of a fight.

[brooklynislandgirl]

@kit-just-kit​ said:

"Happy birthday! It had to be pearls for someone with a June birthday and a strong connection to the sea. These will look so beautiful on you Beth!". ~*~

The smile is soft but it is genuine, reaches into the light of her eyes and pours out over Kit and the black velvet box in her hands. The earrings themselves are gorgeous, and exquisitely tasteful. She would expect nothing less from Kit, though she maybe does take a breath when she realises there's shades of colour to them that speak of these as being incredibly rare, natural saltwater pearls. The ancient Greeks often associated them with lunar deities, and the Moon sings to the seas, so that seems only right. They also thought that pearls were associated with Venus, symbolising love and beauty and wealth. Some say pearls are the tears of angels, others say those of mermaids. What catches Beth is that they are paired with diamonds. Diamonds are said to provide the wearer with better relationships and an increase of inner strength. Diamonds are also the birthstone for April. Andy's birthday is the fourth of April. And what is he if not the gleaming star that holds her to the heavens? "I mean it, for reals. Dey gorgeous an' no can wait f' wear dem. We should get dolled up Friday an' show 'em off, yeah?"

[brooklynislandgirl]

24. If you could have any neighbour you wanted in the world, who would it be and why?

The Turtle Behind the Curtain || - That is actually a really amazing and complicated question. I don't think I could narrow it down to one, but I'd love to live in an idealised country neighbourhood with cottage or farm houses with lots of green and maybe lots of ponds or lakes {and an incredible lack of mosquitoes}, where all my mutuals could live within visiting distance from one another. I'd love to host a big monthly dinner party or pot-luck where everyone brings their favourite food and we could all chat or complain or just hang out and watch a movie together without having to worry about different countries/time-zones, work, etc. I do have plans to some day run away with my oldest friend to a puffin island off the coast of Canada. ~*~ If I could make a wish, I would love to have my dad {alive and well, the way I remember him} as my neighbour because I miss him so much. I'd be happy just to talk to him one more time and maybe watch some football with him. ~*~ Weirdly, I don't really have a celebrity {author, actor, etc} that I would really want in my every day life, but if I had to choose... I'd go with Mischa Collins. He has a beautiful heart and is very weird, and I think he'd be a good time. Or at least an entertaining one to stand back and wonder "what the actual fu---"

[brooklynislandgirl]

mun related shipping #42 (yes it's not on the list) - which ship took you must by surprise and/or what ship do you think should have happened by now, either for you or a partner, but either the muns or the muses are being donuts about it?

A Little Conversation || Accepting

You evil little minx.

LOL, well I don't suppose you're Tiny Satan without reason. I think Beth/Ron {darling Pumpkin over @ronmanmob} was surprising because you know, when a man says he prefers other men, you'd think that that would be all that was needed to be said. But there is the slimmest margin wherein one finds oneself with a young lady and brick by brick they built up their friendship. They speak plainly of their mental health, are supportive of one another in the face of tragic family circumstances, offer advice, get the other out and about, and every permutation between. Beth always knew she liked his mouth and his eyes, and over the years, their relationship has blossomed. And they're still learning, which amazes me.

I think both @southern-belle-outcasts' OC Nilza and Marion from @cajuncur certainly surprised the hell out of me. Nilza because they were poised to be enemies, their first interaction basically was a threat that the Latina hunter ought move along to the next town before Beth unleashed the hounds {or in her specific case, an entire Sept of very angry Garou}, and yet...here they are going on their first date a year or so later. And Marion might be the monster that got away, lolol. Beth has some very complicated feelings for the woman, and the rougarou that she is, and she means it very literally when the words "eat me" came out of her mouth. I do hope her mun is well and good and comes back some day.

And lastly... JAHSFF. This I will discuss {dwell? pine? yearn?} at length via discord.

~*~ In Things That Should Have Been and Never Will: You already know my first thought and everything with it. And of course, there is the eternal joke Crow and I have going on with Beth and Seal!Luka. I think we're up to...married for 23 years and have never been naked in the same room much less anything else. Just don't question him too closely over the cherry turnovers.

For the most part, though, Beth is very good at minding her manners, becoming entirely emotionally devoted to someone, and never once expecting to be anything more than 'that weird girl with the pretty eyes and atrocious accent.' The Admiral has really succeeded into crushing any sort of self-esteem she might have had once, and when she sits down and tries to come up with concrete reasons why someone should be into her, she's got...nothing really. She has probably already told one or two people that they ought not even bother.

[brooklynislandgirl]

How would Beth feel if someone, a super secret someone, bought her a bedazzled LED desk lamp spelling QUEEN in big silver block letters because she is a queen, and you don't see a QUEEN LED lamp in a place called Queens and not buy it? And how would she feel if this completely hypothetical lamp was already plugged in, living its best life on her mantle? Again, completely hypothetical. It's definitely not waiting for her to come home. But if it was, that's one lucky lamp.

Anonymous Feelings || Always Accepting

The second she walks in her door, she knows there's something different. For safety sake, she kicks off her sneakers at the door and strips off her socks so she can wiggle her toes in freedom, but she doesn't start removing her other articles of clothing. It might feel a little like a crime. Fortunately though there was a last minute mishap at work and she'd had to shower and change into street clothes and the hoodie she's wearing is comfortable even if it's far too large to fit her frame. She walks into the open living room and looks around before it occurs to her that things haven't been moved or taken and that there's no army of masked people here to kidnap her into a black van never to be seen again. The latter might be a little bit of a let down but the new lamp more than makes up for it. Beth breaks into a smile as luminescent as the lamp and claps her hands together in sheer joy. A moment later, she's pulling out her phone. Picks the number and waits for it to be answered so she can shriek her enthusiasm and thanks.

[brooklynislandgirl]

😘😘😘😘

A Kiss is Still A... || Accepting

Beth pours herself into Brian's lap as he relaxes on the wooden Adirondack chair by the lakeside. She does wait until after he's spent time idly casting his line into the placid, dark blue waters. Her legs wrap easily around his hips, and she tucks her head onto his shoulder. From a certain point of view anyone would be forgiven for imagining that there's something is incredibly suggestive about all of this. Her in just enough cloth to make the bikini viable, him in his swim trunks and maybe an amount of sunscreen she insisted on, he's too fair to go without. She isn't really trying to interfere with the fishing and his relaxation; the cabin here in Tahoe does so much for his spirit once he gets away from the filthy, loud, crowded, and ultimately dangerous confines of LA. One small hand makes idle designs along the back of his neck, flirting with the ends of his hair, nails occasionally straying up to graze his scalp lightly. The other rests on his shoulder, doing nothing but taking up space. So when she feels his jaw brush her collarbone, she's mildly surprised. And when he places soft, closed-mouth kisses at the base of her throat, along her shoulders, surprise grows into something far warmer. Gentler in its way. She tilts her head just a little to afford him greater landscape to roam if he wants, but she does smile against his skin. Returns the kisses along his shoulder, nips at his bones with lips rather than teeth, though there's always a little hint of them despite her best intentions. Then she sighs and reluctantly pulls herself away. "Want coffee or beer?"

She doesn't want to be greedy. She doesn't want to push his better sensibilities. She also knows where the line between teasing and trouble is when it comes to Brian. And it's so very thin.

[brooklynislandgirl]

 😏

Love, Love Me Do… || Accepting

How physically attracted they are to your muse:

"Come'n join us, Liz." I'd sooner drink bleach, try an' mahalo. "No can, Reg. So busy." She flips the page of her medical journal. Beth will never understand why people seem to think Reg is the more attractive of the twins, when in her estimation he oozes smarm like a snake-oil salesman. It isn't that she can't see the superficial resemblance between the two brothers; they're of a similar height {Ron is the taller of them}, the same dark-as-sin eyes though in the light, she can see the striations of light in Ron's and she's never been that close to Reg. They both have boxed throughout their lives but where Reg might go for speed, Ron is all power. Maybe the difference between a buck and a bull. Even if hers is more Ferdinand than the Minotaur. Not that he can't be just as devastating, she's watched him spar with Big Pat and she cannot fathom being on the receiving end of that sort of punishment. Where as women tend to flock to Reg's Plasticine smiles and easy flattery, Beth finds his younger brother to be perhaps the most genuinely handsome man, despite his trouble with emotive expression. From his heavy hanging brow to the temptation that will forever be epitomised by the fullness of his lips, to his unquestionable presence, Beth can't see Reg for how bright Ron shines in her skies. He doesn't ever really see it though, and sometimes laments himself. He doesn't understand that she likes the fact that he's rounder in the face, softer in the body. Everything about him is perfect, to her. And then he walks into the room, and everything else just ceases to exist as she smiles up at him. 2. How romantically attracted they are to your muse: It's one of those vocalisations in her ear that she translates into a 'Ere, now. His hands rest on her wrists as they stir the bio-hazard orange powder into the buttered noodles. So maybe she giggled over it being called 'cheesy pasta' as opposed to mac & cheese, but it's still the same thing, but better yet… they're making it together. On the stove. There's no fire or smoke or ruined pot. Her nose nudges his jaw as she tells him it's time to add the milk. They've got plates on the counter. Rainbow-hued vegetables on a bed of greens they playfully tossed and dressed. A bottle of wine breathing, and a warmed loaf of Auntie May's bread resting in its basket. Music playing and the pack tuckered out from their long walk and earlier supper. This is happiness. This is…everything she could ask for, really. She doesn't care for the constant attention one or the other draws in public, the loudness of the establishments the other Kray couple seem to have mixed feelings about; Reg craving every glittery star-soaked moment of it, and Frances wishing she could trade places with Beth, at least emotionally. No, it's the little victories; managing to cook a meal together, an evening spent over puzzles or quietly curled up and reading their own books, strolling through the park hand-in-hand. They can be whatever they want to be, and what she really wants is just to be Ron's lass, even if it took her a couple of years to realise it. He has been her staunchest of companions, a truly good friend and incredibly decent man. Plus, he smells really good and gives the best hugs. Sometimes, the L word doesn't seem like such a terrible thing after all. 3. How often they would like to have sex with yours:

Beth is absolutely shocked by the question or at least by the small woman asking it. It takes a few moments for everything to process, to get put together in its bits and fragments glued together by a mixed cement of boiling anger and biting antagonism when she realises how the question was spoken. It takes her a solid minute not to throw verbal daggers; that maybe it isn't Ron himself that displeases Frances but maybe the fact that her husband can't seem to satisfy her which gives her an overall distaste for the act. Fortunately for both of them and the men absent from this lunch that Beth's better angels are battle-forged and more than a match for her own devils. She takes a sip of her tea and sighs a calming breath. "Not dat I t'ink it a very appropriate question, but f' da sake of what you might have heard or be t'inkin'… In da nearly seven year I've known Ron, even da idea of kissin' him much less any kine else took years t' come ovah eiddah of us. We've nevah been in a rush t' tear each oddah clo'se off, even if I t'ink he had dat urge mebbe before I did. An it came t' a surprise for bo'd of us, believe me." There's never been shame shared between them, and there'd been extensive conversation surrounding this kind of physical intimacy, both explaining themselves and their experiences, or lack thereof. Every inch of gained ground was taken in its own time, neither one willing to push the other's boundaries of comfort, something she doesn't think Frances really understands. She also doesn't understand, bless her, how sometimes it is difficult to make stars align; balancing the energy and the desire, their demanding work lives, and of course their other struggles. Depending on medications, the spirit might be willing, but the flesh is definitely weak. "I'm jus' gonna say…normal amount. Sometimes two t' four time a night, sometimes once a week, sometimes not a' all. Sometimes, wha' beddah but t' curl 'round each oddah an' jus' breathe." She enunciates that last word carefully. "Hand t' God, d'ough? Dere is a couple of kine he does when he exercisin' dat just…" She shivers, just thinking about it. It's that thing with his hips, and the one with his shoulders before or after dropping someone in a power bomb.

"…Is sex personified, an' inokea who might be watchin'." 4. Where they would most likely have sex with yours: It isn't that Beth keeps a mental check-box or running tally but… well. There is the shower. And the bed. And the sofa in the parlour or its cushions on the floor, or even no cushions, just floor. There's the kitchen counter and the weight bench. A perhaps better question would be, what locations would be off-limits, a much shorter list to be sure. Temptation has given her thoughts about the back of the car but there's not a privacy divider thick enough to make Ron comfortable with that, and the same might be said about the Trader, the A&E department, or the confessional booth at her Church. "I migh' be goin' t' hell an' I'm bring him wi' me." 5. Whether they think yours would be “good” in bed:

If asked before she had the experience to speak of, she might have said something vaguely ambivalent. It was not as if she didn't know he had experience with his gentleman loves, he'd been very upfront and honest about that, going so far as to let her ask questions mostly because she was respectful with them and explained that she really had no experience of her own. She did tell him about the Talk with her brother, how it came about and what she took away from it, drilled into her head. She could have sworn he'd winced even if it was all verbal and nothing quite in his face, and tried to tell her that maybe Andy hadn't exactly been…truthful. He has about the same experience with women as she does with anyone, and maybe that makes a difference? But slowly over time, hand-holds and long conversations had turned to snuggling. Had become the shyest of kisses. Had become…well, a whole lot of everything, hadn't it? Everything is a shared experience, every exploration or touch. Learning. Now, if asked? "….make m' bones melt."

His head rises just like Claude's ears perk forward, she'd been quiet for hours now, chasing little quizzes from her friends' social media. The inquiry of what she'd said comes in a little sound at the back of his throat, one hand brushing a thumb over the curve of the ankle in his lap as he turns away from the documentary he's watching, pausing the stream. She smiles and turns her head away, that faint hue of colour painting her cheeks threatening to give her away. "Uh. I mean. I was… jus'… t'inkin' abou' how wonderful ya are." 6. What titles / nicknames my muse would like to call yours during sex: She knows there's respect in the way they call him the Colonel at times, the lord of his manor he confirms. She knows he doesn't mind when she calls him Kanuha ~sullen one~ as it acknowledges the struggle to face without putting on one of his many emotional masks on, but in her own soft, adoring slant. She doesn't use his full name, has a little trouble getting around all of the syllables, so she'd likely slide deep into her own past if she did. Lonala. Lona. A soft but guttural sound scraped up from the sea-bed of her soul that defies translation into any human language. The closest approximation, maybe, would be the sound of Pele's Blood meeting Namaka's cold embrace; sea and fire creating something new between disparate elements.

7. Up to 3 kinks they would like to explore with yours ( with consent of course ): The first two that come to mind are things they have discussed before; she respects his lack of regard when it comes to daring something so personal in any kind of public medium, his inability to stomach eyes upon him, and the vulnerability would drive him to the brink of madness. The second was born from noticing just how keen she is with his hand resting around the column of her throat, closing around her with just a slight pressure; he'd not dissuade her from that, but he said he'd not tolerate anything more restrictive and confining. She knows exactly where that stems from, too and refuses to bring it up for the sake of his comfort. He said he'd be very good though, if she were to ask nicely, though. She glances down at her losing round of cards in hand, and spends a moment wondering exactly how he'd managed to do it, she was sure he'd had nothing more than two pair, even with the river. "Well, ya 'ready know I love when ya bite jus so. An'…uhm. You know. When you. An' you're between my… so. Yeah, dat is really, really nice too… so… mebbe mo' beddah I aks you…wha' ya got in mind?" 8. What sort of sex they’d prefer to have with yours ( slow & sensual, quickie, etc. ): She doesn't think she could move even if the flat caught fire; every muscle in her body has become liquefied and there's still heat like the Pacific Rim of Fire flowing through her in waves. He doesn't flop onto his back as much as he slowly rolls onto it, pulling her along so that he can wrap his arm around her waist. His breath is just as ragged as her own, the dampness is inconclusive whether the sweat on their skin belongs to one or the other, when the truth is it is both. For all that he might say he lacks in experience, he certainly makes up with sensuality and care and time taken for them both. Ron's stamina in the ring has no match with the kind he has in their bed, though she has to admit she's a little curious if she can make him lose his mind with so much want that they barely get past the front door… Whatever spark caught his tinder though has a slow-as-tree-growth but honest smile parting his lips that she becomes lost in before the faintest press of his fingertips mould to her jaw, raising her eyes all that much higher. Before she knows it, she's settled over him with just that rasp-whisper of his voice drenching her in his "C'mere." 9. What type of relationship my muse would like to form with yours. ( typical couple, friends with benefits, etc. ): She doesn't notice the twitch in her own hand as she pours Miss Violet a fresh cup of tea. Something about the woman's question reminds Beth of the way the Admiral asks exactly what she thinks she's doing, and she has to bite back the rise of her bile in the back of her throat. To school her face into a mien of absolute meekness and neutrality. She cannot lash out at Ron's mother like she can his brother, and has to remind herself that Violet has every reason to be concerned about her and Ron; he's Violet's youngest, and maybe she has more of a mother's understanding with Reg and Frances than she ever cared to know. In her position, what would Beth do? Likely far worse. "I've got to be completely honest with you, ma'am," Beth begins so slowly, so very carefully. "When I met him all those years ago, I could never have imagined what we would be today. You've raised yourself an incredibly kind, patient, generous and loving man, and I consider myself both lucky and grateful to you. An' as much as you've put into him, he'd done just as much making himself. And believe me when I say I know it was a rough road for him. So if I had to say what I want for him? Is his health and well being, however it comes. If there's a place for me? I think it would be best left for us to decide together." Beth's entire face and demeanour soften after a moment, a glimpse beneath all that she is and was trained to be. "But ever he asked? I'd say yes."

[brooklynislandgirl]

Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:

Things That Make You Squirm || Accepting

"An' dis is where da great Cisco Ramon ran into da problem dat ultimately prove to be his undoing," she says. There's a smile with those words but it is wan and her voice is too soft. She doesn't so much look at his as she does past him. They often ask each other questions of a highly personal nature and part of that is because STAR Labs is an insular place to work, leading to long hours if not days of close contact and very few friends beyond its doors. Then there's the fact that the others seem to keep nudging them together. They're both sweet people, they've been told so until the words make them nauseous. They're both on the edge where introversion and extroversion exist in an ambiguously liminal space. Maybe, just maybe, people pity them. "I've nevah had a significant oddah li'dat," she continues. "Closest to was my braddah use to call me jelly bean. My hanai-sistah calls me Konachino. Beth is already nickname, because mos' mainlanders no can pronounce Elikapeka Ailine much less Alohaekauneikahanuola'Ilikea'wahine. An' as far as secret supah-hero identity go? I'd have t' be one to get somet'ing li'dat an' it would probably be...somet'ing really...unappealing." A shrug and she retreats a little inside of herself. Leaves the impression that if she could fade away without someone noticing, she just might. "Wha' bout you? Did you get called somet'ing sweet or nice? Or did dey give you mean nicknames t' keep bad spirit away?"