Avatar of Venus

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8 mos ago
Spence VS Crawford, let's go 🥳🔥🥊
8 mos ago
Barbie: 10/10 💗💗💗💗
8 likes
11 mos ago
Dying.
12 mos ago
One 😂
1 like
1 yr ago
How aboutttttt... the World Baseball Classic next month tho ⚾🙌❤️‍🔥

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@Vicier do you accept face claim and color reservations?
@Venus Looking forward to seeing what you have in store. ^^

Easy: it's Ariana 😂😂😂😂 I think that should tell you LOL
Fabulous! Might make my usual thot daughter of Aphrodite. I'll keep you both posted! 😊
Hi! Is this still open? If so, do you guys have any posting schedule or deadlines in place?

@Venus & @LovelyComplex

As soon as Fiamma begrudgingly parted ways with Aiden in the parking lot, the anxiety that she had felt since the night before came back with a vengeance. Walking into this new school by herself was not something she wanted to do, but did she really have another choice? In one last attempt at seeking comfort, she checked her phone to see if Niki had replied to her texts, but there were no new notifications on the device. Letting out a sigh, the young woman squared her shoulders, took in a deep breath, put on her most cheerful disposition and marched straight into the school.

Fiamma made sure to take in slow, steadying breaths to keep her composure as she walked around what seemed like a multitude of students coming and going in all different directions. All the hairs on her body seemed to be standing on end with nerves, and she was becoming more anxious with every second she failed to locate where she was supposed to be. Thankfully, it wasn’t long until her blue eyes found the table with the name tags. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Fi headed in that direction.

"Hi, good morning!" the redhead brightly greeted the secretary sitting by the table while she glued her name tag onto her shirt. The older woman nodded curtly and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl. "I'm looking for a young man by the name of Spike?" Fiamma asked the woman, her voice full of uncertainty at her guide's name. No matter how hard she tried, there was no shaking off the thoughts that the name Spike, in her opinion, was more appropriate for a pet than a human. Clearly, Aiden’s influence was starting to rub off on her.

The staff member looked up, adjusting her glasses, before directing her pen in a direction. And when Fiamma's eyes followed the direction the woman was pointing at, they widened in surprise.

"Oh God…"

Down the hall, the boy known as Spike, in his knight suit, rollerbladed his way down the hall while taking moments to circle groups of people and handing them lollipops. “ROSEFELL KNIGHTS, WHAT-WHAT!”

He stopped in his tracks to appreciate the fine display of Spice’s lovely booty. Ah, Minty’s best friend, fine as hell, but was not one to bother right now. She looked like she was on a warpath, ready to murder someone, so yeah, that was not something he wanted to get caught up in. What was he doing? Oh that’s right. He had a Fiamma to pick up. Focusing back on the task at hand, he skated to the table to ask the sign-up lady what he should do if he didn’t know who he was looking for.

When he reached the table, he remembered something and blurted, “Shit! I forgot about my breakfast sandwich. Aw man, it’s probably cold now.” The staff member glared at the idiot and gestured to the girl next to him. His eyes went from the woman’s pen to an elegant-looking girl with the storm in her eyes. Like Flynn Rider from Tangled, he gave the girl who he didn’t know the name of a smoldering grin, “Hey” In classic Spike fashion, he went straight to flirting, “I’m not into watching sunsets, but I’d love to see you go down.”

The lady at the table was quick to yell: “SPIKE!” With an added incentive, she whacked him in the head with her magazine.

The redhead watched the exchange go down in amused silence, tightly pressing her lips together to suppress a laugh. She chanced a quick look over her shoulder in the general direction she’d seen Aiden walk off to, and internally snickered at just how exasperated he seemed to be about this whole thing. Even if he was looking less than pleased (and still cute with that adorable little grumpy grimace on his face), Fi knew he hadn’t heard Spike’s highly suggestive comment. If he had… Well, it probablywould have taken seconds for her boyfriend to have something to say about it.

“Jesus Christ! Okay, okay, dude. I was just telling her she’s a hot little thing, but fine, yeah. I’ll stop.” After that whole scene, he finally noticed her name tag. “Oh, cool! Hi, I’m Spike. Your tour guide. Lollipop?” Like the other people, he offered Fiamma, his guidee, a pop.

When offered the juicy red lollipop, Fiamma nervously chewed on her lower lip and hesitated to take it. Was it really a smart idea to put any sort of sucking-based candy into her mouth around this guy? With the way he’d been acting during this small time in his presence, there was no question in the girl’s mind that consuming the lollipop would be opening herself up to a plethora of dirty jokes, innuendos or comments. But since she wasn’t raised to be rude, the young woman accepted the offer.

“Sure!” she said with a cheerful little nod, grabbing the cherry-flavored pop extended her way and placing it inside her school bag. “I’ll save it for later, though. Not really feeling like candy at the moment.”

“All good, all good. Fiamma is it? Nice name! All you Liberty girls have pretty names.” Juno. Olivia. Fiamma. Cute girls. Cute names. Cute people. Rich people.

"Awwww, thank you!" she cooed sweetly, offering Spike her signature bright smile. "My name actually means 'flame' in Italian. My dad's Italian, so when he first laid eyes on me with the shock of red hair and said the word out loud, he and my mom knew it was the perfect name for me. It definitely beats something basic like Ruby, or Ginger, or Ember..." she trailed off, shrugging and grimacing at the idea of being called anything but Fiamma.

“Flame on! I can get behind that,” In good ol’ Spike fashion, he took a split second to check the girl’s butt out, not so subtly, before diverting his gaze and focusing on the hall ahead of them. Stuffing the rest of the candy in his backpack, that had been hanging from his shoulder this entire time, he clasped his hands together, burying the naughty thoughts away, and childishly grinned, “Okay, yeah. Tour. That’s what we’re doing. Now before I lead you around town all willy-nilly, is there any place you’d want to see? I’m here for you and want to make sure you’re comfy!”

“Oh, gosh: I would love to see your music room!” the girl piped up, her eyes shining at the thought of the room that would become her new safe haven. But given the overall decrepit state of Rosefell High, her innocence was, quite frankly, woefully ignorant.

“Oh, word. The music room…” Standing there for a moment too long, Spike went deep into his noggin to remember where the music room even was. It wasn’t an area he checked out often. “Second floor! That’s right,” He snapped his finger at remembering its location, before leading The Mouse to her requested area. “Uh, I do want to prepare you though.” He made sure his rollerblading was slow enough for Fiamma to keep up with him, “If it isn’t football, it’s likely… sad.”

Ever the optimist, Fiamma waved an airy hand, dismissing Spike’s comment. “Oh, come on! I’m sure it’s not that bad!” she said, foolishly refusing to believe that the school would seriously neglect a classroom as important as the music room. But when she saw the deplorable, pitiful state of the room, she audibly gasped in horror. And before she could stop herself, the girl found herself going off in a rant as flaming-hot as the hair cascading down from her head. “What’s up with schools always putting sports and athletes in such a high pedestal all the time?” she fumed, angrily pacing around the room. “I mean, I understand that athletes dedicate a lot of time and effort to excel in their field (literally and figuratively), but so do all of us who belong to the art community! Do individuals still fail to see the amount of blood, sweat, tears and uncountable hours we put into perfecting our craft as well? We were lucky that Liberty held both the sport and art communities at the same high level, but this?! Give me an effing break!”

Gawking at her the whole time she went on a tangent about budget rights and fuck sports, Spike sat on the piano stool, in and out of thought. Her hair was pretty. Light red hue, maybe strawberry blonde? She dressed conservative, vintage, and classy. Preppy plaid skirt, with a nice blue blouse. Posh was the word girls would say, right? It was a nice color palette to look at and complimented her hair really well. Aside from the outfit, her body was loose, at ease, swaying from side to side as she went about her rant. By the way she moved, he doubted she was a prude. HOWEVER, that was none of his business. It was wrong of him to check her out. She was clearly upset.

Curiosity washed over him, so he decided to get her mind off the crappy state of the room. To him, this was just how things were and it was a waste of energy to cry over the lack of things they had. Rosefell High was doing just fine with little to nothing. Clearing his throat to get her attention, Spike exuberantly asked, “What instrument do you play?!”

Spike clearing his throat brought Fiamma away from her small rant. The girl stopped in her tracks for a few seconds and shifted her attention back to her school guide just as he was asking her about the identity of her musical instrument. “I play the violin,” she answered, giving the blond boy a sheepish smile. How had she gotten so caught up with fiercely defending artists and almost bashing those involved in sports when her own boyfriend was the star lacrosse player of their old school? It wasn’t like Fi to go off on aggressive tangents like this. But music was her passion and her life-- it had always been. To see just how easily dismissed this passion of hers was truly struck a nerve with her. “Been playing since I could remember, actually. I’m part of the local teen orchestra and everything. It’s pretty sweet.”

“That sounds awesome,” Spike gave her an innocent beam, before teasingly adding, “I’d love to hear you play some time.” Briefly pausing, having gotten distracted by a strand of her dangling hair, Spike rested his blue eyes on her blushing face. Standing up, he casually made his way to her and pushed her delicate hair to the side, “Whenever you want,” he locked his attention on her, inches away, and continued suggesting them spend more time together, “Just say the word, and I’ll be there.”

There was no way Fiamma could hide how her face turned as red as the hair Spike had just pushed away from her face, the way she nervously swallowed at how closely to her he was standing, or how her heart hammered wildly like a caged bird inside her chest. The young woman was completely frozen with shock at being put in such a compromising position, without any real experience to go about favorably handling it. Before Aiden, the only males that had shown any interest in her were her father, her cousins, Marcos and Colin-- which were obviously only limited to platonic or familial interests. Attention from boys was not something she was used to receiving, or something she particularly wanted, either. And no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to not make the parallels between her first real conversation with Aiden and what was happening right now. She had no idea what to do next.

The sound of the warning bell ringing across every hall and classroom of Rosefell High brought the redhead back to her senses with a small jump of surprise. Finally, she was able to snap out of whatever trance her nerves had held her captive in, just in time to regain her ability to speak again.

“I, um… I have to go…” the girl croaked before turning on her heel and racing out of the classroom, her face still burning bright and hot with nerves and embarrassment.

Before Spike could stop her, she was already out the door. Still, he felt accomplished. That went better than expected. Maybe he had a chance with this Flaming hot-hottie named Fiamma. Poking his head out the door, he looked at her scurrying away, “See you around, Fiamma!” He would make sure of it.
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