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@everythingice-blog
/flicks her nipple
And down he goes -- she has an entire arsenal at her fingertips, but lasers and glacium creaturae don’t carry the same visceral satisfaction as a swift kick to the nuts. So that’s what she goes for; her heel connects neatly with the junction between his legs without throwing her off balance. She doesn’t miss a beat.
❛ You’re right -- this is fun. ❜
blossom what do you even see in joey, you're too good for a loser like him.
It’s instinctual, and her finely honed better judgement hums in protest as a kind of -- unbidden anger rises to the surface. Where there should be logic, there’s only a bright, pulsating stab of annoyance ( and irritation, and confusion and -- ? ) She works valiantly to swallow those instincts, burying them where they can’t interfere with her far more familiar sense of intellectualism.
( defense mechanism, her book trained mind supplies unhelpfully. first credited to socrates, denotes single mindedness in the face of emotional responses -- )
❛ Those are arbitrary terms, ❜ she replies, words trailing behind a beat of silence. ❛ They don’t measure against any standard. Good, bad, loser, ❜ and there she winces, lips curling into a stubborn frown as a line mars her brow. ❛ You shouldn’t call people something like that, anyway. It’s -- it’s mean. ❜ ( god, will she ever stop feeling like a child? )
( oh, maybe she can name one emotion from the tangle too densely knitted and confusing to discern: fear. she holds onto the word, good, wonders if she’ll ever be close enough to it to understand. )
❛ -- Besides, ❜ she adds, a little huff puffing back into her voice. ❛ What do you care? I’m still -- I’m still studying. And working. I’m not going to let anyone down. Regardless of -- whatever else it is I chose to do! ❜
Joey sneaks up behind Blossom, slipping his arms around her waist. "Hey, girlie." He says, chin resting on either shoulder.
She doesn’t flinch when she feels something suspiciously arm shaped wrap around her middle, and that in and of itself is probably a bad sign. ( but then, this is all bad, isn’t it? what’s one more regret to add to the pile? ) She sighs, the breath catching in her throat as she waits for a beat, decides on a course of action, and carries it out.
Her hand comes up swiftly, finding his forehead with pinpoint accuracy and flicking him dead center. The only disappointing thing is that he probably can’t see her smirk from this vantage point.
❛ It’s Blossom, ❜ she corrects primly, then gently ( a little too gently ) reaches further back to pat the crown of his head.
"Did ya miss me, girlie?" Joey says, grinning crookedly. He even throws in a wink for good measure.
❛ If you keep that up, your face is going to freeze that way. ❜ Literally. Though she refrains from mentioning that fact -- a little surprise keeps every absolutely - not - a relationship healthy, right?
Bunches her hands to her mouth, smiling knowingly. "...!"
❛ Don’t give me that look -- I know that look. It’s unwarranted. I didn’t even do anything -- nothing happened, why are you -- I don’t even know what you’re talking about !! ❜
▉ ▊ ❀┊ ( @joeywheelah• here ) ;
So -- apparently honesty is the name of the game here. Yes, it’s a symbol of the holiday, yes it’s cliched and trite and every other synonym in the book. But the fact of the matter is, she’d given him a heart. Against every better judgement and wise calculation, she had gone out of her way to give him a gift. And -- and he’s annoying. Rude. Immature -- indecent. He’s everything that she cannot stand, empirically and ideologically.
He is all of that up until and after the moment his lips brush against hers; then, suddenly, all of those things don’t seem that bad.
She is caught speechless; not a first, but still a rarity. Her throat seems to be unable to do anything but breathe, slowly, like every breath is forcing its way through syrup. Swallowing doesn’t help. Stopping doesn’t help. Trying to think doesn’t help because she can’t -- she has no words --
He’s so close. He’s still so close.
Her lips are against his again before she even realizes that she’s decided anything at all, instinctively moving to capture his as her other hand searches out his free one, fingers tangling roughly through the spaces in between. She only knows that her eyes are closed when she can only feel his proximity -- not see it.
His proximity -- he’s right there -- what is she doing ?
❛ I --... ❜ Any explanation or protest dies on her tongue, as she registers (belatedly) that she’s pulled away. Far enough to see his face in its entirety. Hers is hot in a way that rings of brightness, red likely splashes across her nose, under her eyes, at the tops of her ears. No -- she has no control over it, and suddenly she’s overcome with the curious sensation that her knees are gone entirely. That she’s one breath away from ceasing to exist.
❛ I -- ❜ Nothing. Nothing. She can’t do anything but force herself to find something, anything, to latch onto. When she does, she can’t feel herself forming the words; she can barely hear their echo once they’re given voice.
❛ I have -- I have to go. ❜
joeywheelah:
@everythingice
It’s their second time meeting and Joey thinks he’s got Blossom pretty much figured out well enough to use this date to his advantage. She’s bossy and independent, but her ego is the key to getting what he wants if he plans on getting any kind of pass at all. If she feels the need to prove herself, he’s got the ticket to paradise.
Especially considering he gets to choose where they rendezvous tonight.
“Well well, good aft’noon, girlie,” Joey says, with an unsuspecting smile. His arm extends, inviting her to settle beside him for their stroll (even though he’s sure she’ll reject the particular gesture).
“Can’t believe you’re gonna let me treat ya – wit’ you bein’ all independent n’ all. Did ya grow a heart since th’ last time I saw ya?”
She doesn’t know why she agreed to this in the first place -- and, truth be told, it’s not something she wants to examine in any depth. There is already enough to regret in this world; if she dwells on every bad choice, she’ll never stop.
❛ I have a name, you know, ❜ are the first words to leave her lips, and it feels like defeat. Still, she does manage not to wince at her slip, instead affecting an air of annoyance that comes a little too easily. She raises one brow at the offer of his arm, then promptly crosses her own neatly across her chest.
The distraction from her miss comes swiftly and mercilessly. She’s just about to come up with some clever reply when his words register, steel barbed, biting into the pit of her stomach until it sours. For a moment, she stops, words of defense ready and waiting -- I have a heart! -- held in check just behind her teeth. Saying them -- feels wrong, somehow. ( if she denies their presence, maybe she denies their power. )
❛ -- I knew this was going to be a bad idea. ❜
Joey tenses his jaw, a laugh stuck behind his teeth. It comes out roughly, in exhale as he fights to refrain from saying anything inappropriate (a first, for him). “Ah - Right, right… f’give me, miss nurse. I f’got ‘fun’ isn’t what the doc ordered.”
Straightening, he casually slips a hand into his pocket. Not once does his gaze wander; he hasn’t been this interested in someone in a while - maybe he should leave his slummy neighborhood every once in a while if it leads to something like this.
“But I’m sure he’d tell ya that it’s just plain cruel to deny a guy his birt’day gift. Wouldn’t want me t’die of a broken heart, would ya, Blossom?”
“So where ya draggin’ me? Gotta say, I’m kinda diggin’ the whole ‘leading woman’ thing. It suits ya.”
❛ That’s not -- I have... ugh. ❜ She has fun, she does! Alright, sure -- maybe no one’s ever agreed with her idea of fun on a regular basis, but she isn’t so... rigid. ( right? ) But she can’t quite bring herself to argue, so she finds herself twisting her lips into a grimace when she can’t quite find the words.
His words draw her from a semi reverie, and that, at least, can be met with an amused huff of a laugh. ❛ Oh please. ❜ Still, her words are thin at best. Maybe she’s sentimental -- or maybe it’s part of that complex that others say she has, but she doesn’t actually disagree with him. Not that she’s about to do anything reckless, of course. She just -- doesn’t think an occasion like that should go unmarked.
❛ I said I would have, ❜ she reminds him gently. Then promptly caves in on that line of thought all together. ❛ I’m not taking you anywhere if you make it sound gross. ❜ She ignores his comment, and the teasing edge that accompanies it ( and hopes that she’s just imagining the heat that’s flushing her face ).
"Oooohhhh! Are you into bad boys now?" :3c
❛ Wh -- what ?? Bubbles! ❜ She’d ask how Bubbles seems to know every move Blossom makes, but over the years she’s learned that answers usually only lead to more questions where her sister is concerned. Best to spend her energy on quelling these ridiculous notions instead.
❛ No way. No chance, it’s not happening. If I’m into anyone, it’s definitely not bad boys. ❜ The term drips off her tongue with revulsion. ❛ That’s not how I do things. ❜
Like any normal person with a heart, she feels bad - but Joey’s so used to being alone on his birthday that the mention of it is completely casual.
Though, her assumption makes him want to laugh. “Nah, just yours truly. But it’s fine, really.”
“Why, are you one a’ those girls that goes all out for her birthday? Dressin’ up n’ goin’ to the club wit’ your crew a’ girls?” He’s asking mainly for her reaction; something tells him she’s a lot more tame than the average lady.
For a moment, her heart flutters. It’s not the worst thing, maybe. Relatively speaking, she’s seen some bad things. But logic loses to heart every time, and she cannot help the thrill of empathetic disappointment that wells up. Nor the exclamation that wells up --
❛ That’s awful! ❜
She realizes that it’s probably more than a little presumptuous of her say that outright, but stubborn pride (and equally stubborn conviction) prevent her from taking that back. But she does add a quiet, sincere, ❛ -- Sorry. ❜
Of course, the moment he voices his question, any hint of guilt vanishes in an instant.
❛ Seriously ?? Do I look I have any time or desire to do something like that? ❜ It’s not that she’s insulted she’s just -- alright, okay, she’s insulted. She shouldn’t be, she knows that. But it’s one of those flaws she hates about herself. She hates that she bristles and pouts and replies, childishly, ❛ You can’t become a doctor if you waste your time in clubs. -- And to think that I was this close to dragging you somewhere and buying you a birthday present. ❜
“Blossom, huh?” He tests it on his tongue.
Initially, it sounds a little weird, but it’s easy to warm up to when there’s a pleasant face to match. “…Pretty.”
(and that’s sincere.)
“Anyway, I’m Joey. It’s nice meetin’ ya, n’ thanks for the bday wishes - you’ve officially made this the first year I’ve gotten one in a while.”
Truth be told, she cherishes that name -- sensing no mockery in his tone, Blossom can feel her attitude softening. Just a bit. Her smile grows a little easier, calm around the edges.
❛ Thank you! ❜
Alright, alright, maybe he’s not so bad. Maybe it’s a guy thing, that fluffed up, sexual bravado. At least, that’s what Bubbles would say, wouldn’t she? No, Blossom cringes internally, because she knows exactly what Bubbles would say. I can’t believe it! It’s true love! You were made for each other, tell me everything, don’t leave a single detail out! If only she put a fraction of that effort into something more productive, like studying or clubs or working.
❛ It’s not a problem -- wait, what? ❜
She stops in her verbal tracks, attention entirely consumed by that last statement. ❛ Are you serious ? But aren’t you celebrating it with someone? ❜
Either the suggestive undertone goes unnoticed, or she’s avoiding it entirely (the latter wouldn’t surprise him - most nerdy girls tend to shy away from intimacy), so he simply plays along. He’s got nothing else planned for his birthday, sadly, so any company - disinterested or not - is welcomed. Especially from cute girls like this one.
“Ah well - glad I can enjoy the day without that stressor,” he says, mildly amused. “I gotta admit, that knowledge a’ yours is pretty impressive.”
“So what’s your story? Y’got a name?”
She’s a little surprised that he doesn’t press his advantage -- metaphorically speaking, of course, seeing as how he never had one to begin with. So rather than fielding a more characteristic upwelling of aggravation, she huffs a small, quiet laugh-sigh of amusement instead.
❛ I’m aware, ❜ she replies mildly, the hint of a teasing edge coloring her voice. She’s well aware that he’s likely not serious, but she’s worked hard at her studies -- even mocking acknowledgement is kind of nice. ❛ It’s Blossom. What about you, birthday boy? ❜
@joeywheelah / ( x )
❛ I don’t think that will be necessary, the symptoms of Candidiasis are fairly easily spotted if you look. A rash of red dots, dry skin, and a painful burning are all very clear markers. ❜
It’s one of the more creative rejections she’s given; she’ll have to add gross medical knowledge to her list.
justtoliveoneday:
▒ ❝ i love my S I S T E R more than anything in this LIFE i will choose H E R happiness over MINE every time ! ❞ █ ▌
These have been collecting dust in my computer
