islabloomfield

|| Isla Bloomfield || Twenty-Four || In town for: Twenty-Four years || Occupation: Irish Dancer || Single ||

[islabloomfield-blog]

the-friendlyghost:

Oh, man, she was so close to having him out of her life for good. But he knew he had her hook, line, and sinker. Ghost couldn’t help his wide grin as he turned back. “Yeah, well, I’m too stubborn for my own good.” He winked, or tried to—— he just ended up blinking repeatedly almost resembling someone having some sort of facial attack. Smooth. “Oh—- it’s for me, I’ve been feeling a bit bloated lately. And yeah, it’s sorta um..impossible but, you never know. The Lord has a sick sense of humor sometimes..ha.”

       Auburn brows rose as an ivory visage tilted with confusion. Was this guy joking? Shifting her weight from left to right foot and back, emerald orbs simply narrowed as she came to a conclusion. “Okay, buddy. Ahh that’s almost impossible but okay” she replied, pacing backwards once again. “Look, if I’m going to make good on our deal the other night, I’m going to need some insurance to know your not going to taint my reputation with what you know...” she stated, straightening her torso and puffing out her chest to seem slightly taller -- god knows that was impossible.

[novice-heartbreaker-deactivated]

she’s soft and warm

[lcstsoul-deactivated20231028]

“I’ve spent all day watching Grease related things and I honestly just want to have my own T-Birds jacket… Or even better, to have a Pink Ladies squad. Who’s your favourite?”

[islabloomfield-blog]

“Grease what?” Isla played dumb with a deliberate head tilt.

[tillicgreen]

“— since i have absolutely no idea what a large half-caf, sugar-free, non-fat, vanilla soy, double shot, no foam, extra hot mocha latte is, i’m going to have to ask you to shorten your order, by about twenty syllables.”

[islabloomfield-blog]

      “Even shortened that doesn’t fit into twenty syllables” Isla muttered, behind the child in front of her holding up the line.

[azaiahmiller]

‘ so there i fuckin’ was, cleaning all the shit of the streets, when this ol’ granny comes from behind and asks me if i’d like to wipe her ass off for mo—-   oi! you, did you just throw that on the floor?! ‘

[islabloomfield-blog]

       “I’m sorry, that was totally unintentional” Isla explained as she knelt down to pick up the piece of paper.

[islabloomfield-blog]

cleogilbert:

“Oh, alright,” she took the phone from the redhead, scrolling through her library. “Will there be paying customers by next week, or is that when you’re going to try to get some? Yeah, Apartment 23. That’d be great. — You wanna see ballet or hip-hop? I do both.”

        “I have a presentation at the school tomorrow, just to get the name out. I have a few clients who have already signed their kids up and I’ve also put out ads in the paper, coffee shops and library. So I’m expecting to have at least one or two classes up and running in the next week and a half” Isla explained, returning to the top coat. “-- Ballet, because if you can master ballet you can do anything.”

[thebooks--fossil-deactivated201]

Felicity and Isla

@islabloomfield

Whenever Felicity took the bus home, she kept to herself and usually stared out the window in silence. But last night she’d begun ’The Lion King’ for the first time and though it was good, she’d been exhausted and fell asleep through it. So, thinking it was something to do on the bus ride home, she made the mistake of finishing it on her phone.

As the animals cheered, Felicity just couldn’t stop thinking about how Simba had finally become the King of Pride Rock and he’d found love and happiness and how proud his father would have been of him if he were alive– She, honest to God, could not stop the stream of tears on her face as she curled into her phone mouthing about how beautiful and tragic this awful movie was.

[islabloomfield-blog]

       The bus was packed for the afternoon run. Most people in town didn’t need cars as everything was mostly within walking distance. Isla had no choice but to allow the petite brunette to sit down next to her. Usually Isla paid little attention to those around her, however the images on the mobile phone caught her in a moment of nostalgia. The Lion King was placed in her top five Disney movies and top ten favourite movies of all time. 

       As she imagined the music of the end scene playing, her train of thought had been disrupted by the sobbing women. A wave of second hand embarrassment engulfed the strawberry blonde as the other passengers glared. Mustering courage Isla tapped on the strangers shoulder, ready to ask if she were okay. Though the expressions of others around her screamed at her to tell the women to be quiet. “Excuse me -- are you okay?” 

[islabloomfield-blog]

atticus-wise:

Atticus nodded, mutely so as to demonstrate he was already onboard with that idea and practicing it. He tried to imagine what would’ve tempted him to join a dance class in primary, and came up with nothing short of flat bribery. But he could still help her out— and a dance battle sounded awful, so of course he wanted to see. “Laughter’s reflexive,” he protested, grinning. “Nah, I won’t laugh, I promise. I guarantee even if you fall on your face, you’ll be doing it with more grace than I’d ever manage.” He shook on the deal, then lifted his shoulders helplessly at her comment, joining her sarcasm. “I’m a natural explorer, what can I say. Internal compass, navigating by the stars, all of it. Can totally tell my left from right, too, don’t believe what they say.”

         “If you laugh, I can always bring up that moment of disorientation before. Wouldn’t want that would we now?” the redhead joked. slightly nudging the teacher in a playful manner as they walked towards the hall. She hadn’t recalled how many students she would be talking to which she felt calmed her nerves at this moment. If the room was packed she’d become tongue tied for sure. Isla was a master at mustering up fake confidence in order to preform however her mouth had never been involved. “I hope we will never have to find out” pearly whites bit down on nervous petals as she ran petite fingers through those fiery tresses. “You also apparently have a way with words, I see” she mused, intrigued by his wondrous descriptions “but I don’t believe you”. 

[islabloomfield-blog]

[littlewildling-rpg-deactivated2]

[islabloomfield-blog]

the-friendlyghost:

Ghost chuckled. He knew this game, he had played it a million times himself to get out of awkward situations. He was just perplexed— more than he usually was actually— as to why she was using it on him. He thought he had helped her, that they were even…and although he didn’t expect automatic friendship, the courtesy to acknowledge him, well, maybe that was too much to ask for. “Alright, I see how it is,” he mumbled while backing away slowly. “Wrong person I suppose. See you around Red.”

      Oh how she wished she could bare her actions without guilt weighing down her heart. Isla knew she owed him more than an apology. Though she wasn’t exactly inclined to trust him with her identity, not now that he’d accidentally discovered her past. “Who’s the pregnancy test for?” she called, hoping it would be enough for him to turn. “And I thought I told you never to call me that... Goldilocks.”

[islabloomfield-blog]

the-friendlyghost:

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ghost called out as he continued to block the familiar redhead’s path in the grocery store. The pregnancy test, plunger, ready whip, and gallon of vodka was forgotten in his cart momentarily as his attention was now focused on her. “You really think I’m gonna let you go again? After you broke our deal might I add.”

       Once she realised he was going to be relentless she paced backwards blindly with hopes that should wouldn’t knock anything down. “Have we met? Because I don’t recall making a deal with you. I don’t know you” perhaps she could attempt to convince him of mistaken identity? Though she really didn’t believe it would work at all. 

[islabloomfield-blog]

hannakinq:

“Fucking brilliant, what gave it away?” she sarcastically asked. “Not like we need any more of those shittey apps but if they’re allowed to review us or some shite on yelp we should be able to do the same.”

       “Your intense glare?” she offered with a shrug. “They might be shitty but I doubt you’d complain if you were making money off of the app. I don’t understand how people can leave a room in such a state.”

[islabloomfield-blog]

just-ramsay:

“Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special. Although, I don’t have many friends out there, either,” he commented. Smiling her way, he swayed for a moment. “Handsome? I like the sound of that. But now I’m not sure if you’re complimenting me or mocking me. But since you called me handsome I’ll deal with it.” 

        “And why’s that?” she asked with curiosity in her timbre as she lent forward. “Really? I can’t understand why you’d want anyone thinking you were handsome” she playfully teased. “I wouldn’t call it mocking -- more like attempting banter.” 

[islabloomfield-blog]

just-ramsay:

“Eating out is a funner than microwave dinners, and drinking, sometimes,” he explained with a light smile. “She probably thinks Islands are pretty, or a certain one. Wanna know what doesn’t make sense, though? Jess. I mean… What the hell is a Jess?” The male rolled his eyes in a joking matter.

         “I’m always self conscious if I go out to eat alone, so really right now you’re saving my arse for making me look like I have friends” she joked, a wink adorning emerald irises. “A Jess is obviously a name given to handsome guys who are good company and think the best way to get over a hangover is to get even more drunk” a genuine chuckle escaped. 

[islabloomfield-blog]

the-friendlyghost:

Ghost was pretty sure all logic went in one ear and out the other the minute her fingers intertwined with his. How the hell was he supposed to be all pissed off now when all he wanted to do was smile goofily and stare at her ass? As she pranced and prattled in front of him though, he realized he could do at least one of those things. And man, it was a nice ass.

He’d heard a gist of what she was saying and he rolled his eyes. Did she forget that he came here often? How the hell did she think he got those pictures of her in the first place? Of course he knew the guy that owned the club. He went by Bones but Ghost had heard through the grape vine that he was born Francis, the fucker. Upon entering the club, Ghost had made his way in front of Isla, protectively almost. It was easy spotting him at the bar all fat and gross looking. Ghost gave the redhead a quick look before stepping into action.

There was a series of events that happened simultaneously. And lets just say there was very little talking, like Isla requested. Ghost’s hands wound up clenching the guys faux leather jacket and slamming him on top of the bar he rarely moved from. The threat he made was all over the place. From explaining that Isla was his now, to if the chunky monkey fat-tard didn’t lay off on her he’d be in for a real treat. A crazy treat that involved sticking the owner’s dick in scalding hot chicken grease—- still attached by the way, while butt fucking him with a pair of pliers. But that’d only be the beginning, and Francis really wouldn’t care to find out what other sick and twisted things the younger boy had in store. Because Ghost was crazy, and he explained that. How his mom was stuck in the 50′s where drinking and snorting coke was still a norm while pregnant so to say he had a few loose screws was an understatement. He didn’t want to find out just the level of crazy he could rise to.

Ghost ended it all with a peck on his cheek, a sarcastic wink, and a salute before grabbing a handful of beer nuts before whispering to him, “btw, I fucked your mom and I think she’s going to make me your new daddy.” He nodded at the fearful man who was now even too afraid to look in Isla’s direction. Ghost made sure of that as he swung an arm over her shoulder and made his way out of the club, not paying mind to all the stunned people watching him. “Oh, also, he’s a Trump supporter. I’ll leave you all with that!” He called out. Ghost knew this wasn’t America, but you didn’t have to be a citizen to hate the shit out of that orange baboon. That fact was proven when as they exited and a couple of men yelled ‘what?!’ in pure outrage and Ghost smiled as he heard the oncoming riot as they crowded the owner who was denying it all. He couldn’t hear it after awhile—- the sounds of punches was overpowering his protests.

“Scary enough for you?” He spoke after a moment, to the quiet redhead under his arm. He wanted to say he’d forgotten to remove it but, let’s be honest here, he was just enjoying the way she felt to him. Close.

        Isla couldn’t tell if she was rendered speechless by the chilly Irish air shocking her system or the poison his words carried as he spat them at the victim. The whole time she’d stood wide eyed as ivory features held a stone cold expression.

          Relief crashed into her like a tsunami as the stranger led her away from scene he’d caused. She hadn’t left the oddly comforting and warm embrace as they lingered in the dim lit alleyway. “Better than your practice round, that’s for sure” bitten petals parted as Isla caught the breath she hadn’t realise she’d been holding. “Here” she’d shifted out from under his arm, still keeping close proximity as she held out the camera she’d taken hostage. “Look, I’m sorry -- I shouldn’t have forced you into doing that... but thanks” petite digits wrapped around his wrist, squeezing swiftly before she pulled away. Before he could even reply the redhead had turned her back, desperate to flee the scene before he could grab her name. She wasn’t about to give him the power of knowing this secret and her identity. 

[islabloomfield-blog]

cleogilbert:

       “Well if you have music, I’d be happy to show you something,” she commented, resting her shoulder against the nearest wall. Cleo couldn’t help but smile at the thought of teaching, before hiding it behind a smirk. “I’d be into that. When will this place be up and running?”

       “I do, here” she passed her phone to Cleo so she could pick which song she’d like to dance to. “I’m hoping by next week, I’m having most of the furniture delivered on the weekend. You like in my apartment building right? I can just drop in a bunch of forms and information for you to look over tonight if you’re serious?”