Beach parties. Icy never really liked those. But suddenly they just seemed to have a certain appeal. That appeal was professor Griffin rising slowly (unnecessarily so) and dramatically out of the water with an added hair whip that would put Willow Smith to shame. And that black studded bikini…hell yes. Yup, that was defiantly sexy.
With a shrug Icy looked back in the other direction and continued licking her ice cream cone. And then she looked back at Griffin, I mean who could possibly resist!?
Admiration from afar was beneath Icy. The witch just had to go up to her former professor and vocalize her strong opinions. I mean everyone else was doing it now—Riven…Stella—clearly dating your 60 year old professor was the in thing.
“Hey Griffin, lookin’ mighty freakin’ fine over there!” Icy shouted from across the beach.
“Why thank you. I’ve been workin’ out. The boys from LMFAO taught me some of their moves and now I’m sexy and I know it!”
Now that literally had to be the lamest response anyone has ever given to Icy upon her hitting on them. And Icy hit on her fair share of people. And like 82% of them had given her awful words of gratitude in return. Griffin’s response was perhaps just below that guy who said ‘why thank you, you should grow a sexy moustache too.’ Icy didn’t talk about that guy.
Yup all those piña coladas were definitely getting to her…nah, who was she kidding, she actually loved Cloud Tower’s professor. There was definitely a connection there. From the moment they met.
“NO SHAME!” Icy shouted before kissing her ex professor.
“ALL THE SHAME!” Griffin exclaimed. “All of it.” She added in a whisper as a single tear drop ebbed it’s way down her cheek.
“Shut up woman! You know you want me. I could see it from the moment you pulled me into your office that day to say ‘you’re essay was well written’. That’s true love. I know true love when I see it.” Icy lied. She knew absolutely nothing of true love and it was actually a short response question.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. That essay was well written. Could you maybe…write me another?” Griffin asked shyly.
“Will I get extra credit?” Icy asked seductively.
“Yes.”
“How much?” She asked circling a finger over the woman’s collar bone.
“A lot.” Griffin answered, deciding that this was the best way to gain more affection.
“Wait just one damn minute! I don’t even go to Cloud Tower anymore!” Icy remembered.
“Yeah, that’s the flaw in our plan isn’t it?” Griffin shrugged.
“No shit.” Icy muttered.
“Can I have a lick of your ice cream?” Griffin asked.
“OmGz GriFFiN!!1! Iz tHaT wAt tHIz waZ abt TEH hOLe tYmE!!1!!!” Icy cried. “Ur, jUs uszing mE 4 meye iCe crEam!!1!!”
“Omg, no. No baby, that’s not true @ all! I luv you!” Griffin declared.
“Oh.” Icy muttered. “Well. You’re still not getting any.” She would share her ice cream with no one, no matter how true the love.
“I can buy us a smoothie and we can share it like those pre-teen couples in those shitty chick flicks.” Griffin suggested.
Icy thought for a minute. “Strawberry-banana.”
“Strawberry-banana.” Griffin nodded.
And so the ladies shared themselves a smoothie beneath a tacky palm tree under a very cliché sunset. So cliché in fact that dolphins were emerging from the water as it happened. Yes, so cliché that there was a slight and balmy breeze to go with the colors of a most vibrant sort—pink as pastel pant, orange as hy-vee juice, and gold as gold as gold. So freaking cliché it looked like a scene out of a romance movie—a scene from one of those tropical paintings you’d by from a souvenir store in a moment of tourist bliss and live to regret the next day (and for the rest of your life) as you realize that you’re now short of 50 dollars.
Once all of that dramatic artsy and poetic bullcrap was over the two began doing what any couple on a beach with the sounds of waves surrounding them on a romantically starry night would do.
They admired each other’s coconuts—Griffin had a collection of them that she’d been hoarding since the age of six and Icy found probably the smallest one on the beach just so she had something to show off. They then grew bored with that and decided that there was a much better thing that beach couples did…
Building sand snowmen.
What? Where you expecting something else?
I think the only thing worse than me typing fics past 10 is me typing fics whilst listening to Reggae music…particuarlly a cover of Pumped Up Kicks and a cover of Paradise.
With a shrug Icy looked back in the other direction and continued licking her ice cream cone. And then she looked back at Griffin, I mean who could possibly resist!?
Admiration from afar was beneath Icy. The witch just had to go up to her former professor and vocalize her strong opinions. I mean everyone else was doing it now—Riven…Stella—clearly dating your 60 year old professor was the in thing.
“Hey Griffin, lookin’ mighty freakin’ fine over there!” Icy shouted from across the beach.
“Why thank you. I’ve been workin’ out. The boys from LMFAO taught me some of their moves and now I’m sexy and I know it!”
Now that literally had to be the lamest response anyone has ever given to Icy upon her hitting on them. And Icy hit on her fair share of people. And like 82% of them had given her awful words of gratitude in return. Griffin’s response was perhaps just below that guy who said ‘why thank you, you should grow a sexy moustache too.’ Icy didn’t talk about that guy.
Yup all those piña coladas were definitely getting to her…nah, who was she kidding, she actually loved Cloud Tower’s professor. There was definitely a connection there. From the moment they met.
“NO SHAME!” Icy shouted before kissing her ex professor.
“ALL THE SHAME!” Griffin exclaimed. “All of it.” She added in a whisper as a single tear drop ebbed it’s way down her cheek.
“Shut up woman! You know you want me. I could see it from the moment you pulled me into your office that day to say ‘you’re essay was well written’. That’s true love. I know true love when I see it.” Icy lied. She knew absolutely nothing of true love and it was actually a short response question.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. That essay was well written. Could you maybe…write me another?” Griffin asked shyly.
“Will I get extra credit?” Icy asked seductively.
“Yes.”
“How much?” She asked circling a finger over the woman’s collar bone.
“A lot.” Griffin answered, deciding that this was the best way to gain more affection.
“Wait just one damn minute! I don’t even go to Cloud Tower anymore!” Icy remembered.
“Yeah, that’s the flaw in our plan isn’t it?” Griffin shrugged.
“No shit.” Icy muttered.
“Can I have a lick of your ice cream?” Griffin asked.
“OmGz GriFFiN!!1! Iz tHaT wAt tHIz waZ abt TEH hOLe tYmE!!1!!!” Icy cried. “Ur, jUs uszing mE 4 meye iCe crEam!!1!!”
“Omg, no. No baby, that’s not true @ all! I luv you!” Griffin declared.
“Oh.” Icy muttered. “Well. You’re still not getting any.” She would share her ice cream with no one, no matter how true the love.
“I can buy us a smoothie and we can share it like those pre-teen couples in those shitty chick flicks.” Griffin suggested.
Icy thought for a minute. “Strawberry-banana.”
“Strawberry-banana.” Griffin nodded.
And so the ladies shared themselves a smoothie beneath a tacky palm tree under a very cliché sunset. So cliché in fact that dolphins were emerging from the water as it happened. Yes, so cliché that there was a slight and balmy breeze to go with the colors of a most vibrant sort—pink as pastel pant, orange as hy-vee juice, and gold as gold as gold. So freaking cliché it looked like a scene out of a romance movie—a scene from one of those tropical paintings you’d by from a souvenir store in a moment of tourist bliss and live to regret the next day (and for the rest of your life) as you realize that you’re now short of 50 dollars.
Once all of that dramatic artsy and poetic bullcrap was over the two began doing what any couple on a beach with the sounds of waves surrounding them on a romantically starry night would do.
They admired each other’s coconuts—Griffin had a collection of them that she’d been hoarding since the age of six and Icy found probably the smallest one on the beach just so she had something to show off. They then grew bored with that and decided that there was a much better thing that beach couples did…
Building sand snowmen.
What? Where you expecting something else?
I think the only thing worse than me typing fics past 10 is me typing fics whilst listening to Reggae music…particuarlly a cover of Pumped Up Kicks and a cover of Paradise.
