cuddlecity | ( open ) ❤ ❝ you're a fine girl ❞

Entry tags:

( open ) ❤ ❝ you're a fine girl ❞

CHARACTERS: kimberly hart & you!
LOCATIONS: all around the city!
WARNINGS: n/a. will warn in subject line.
SUMMARY: a variety of open starters for your enjoyment.

↪ crunches

( nearly every afternoon, just like clockwork, kimberly finds herself strolling into the well-lit lobby of crunches.

a few days a week, as the schedule allows, she can be found preparing for her zumba class. warm ups are done against the ballet barres, stretching like any good athlete should, blaring music through the room's speaker system. if she's alone (or in good company), kimberly dances to the beat, aimless enthusiasm expressed in spins and high-kicks and sways of her hips side to side. there's no real talent or trade, just boundless energy worked out to upbeat pop and r&b. occasionally, though, beats of late 2000s throwbacks will catch her attention; don't be surprised if you catch her singing along. feel free to watch, or maybe attend a class. just be prepared to work up a sweat.

if there's no class scheduled, kimberly can be found on a few different machines on the gym floor. the elliptical is her favorite, though the erg ("rowing machine, ergometer, erging") helps her build upper-body endurance. if she's feeling particularly masochistic, the lat pulldown does the trick. challenge her to a race, critique her form, whatever floats your boat.

when all is said and done, after a well-deserved shower, kimberly will happily treat herself to a post-work-out beverage. some days, it's pseudo-healthy smoothies (there's fruit in it!) from the juice bar ... and sometimes, it's just a giant cup of caffeine and sugar from deja brew. don't shame her. calories don't count after workouts, right? )

↪ blue spring pool

( what does a teenage girl do on her days off, when her friends are busy and her workouts are done? lounging at home isn't the answer — she can do that any time, and the warm weather isn't going to last forever; instead, kimberly can be found sprawled out on the grassy shores next to blue spring pool, a towel spread out underneath her swimsuit-clad frame as she soaks up the warmth of the sun. she's got to keep up her tan, you know?

while she often has headphones in, nodding and, okay, occasionally humming (or maybe singing) along to a particularly good beat, feel free to come snag a spot nearby. there's plenty of spots in the sun to lay out, and with the big trees, there's plenty of shade too for those that want it. feel free to ask what she's listening to, or just strike up a conversation.

when the sun beats down long enough and sweat starts to pool on the nape of her neck, kimberly will abandon her towel for a dip in the chilly spring water. it's seventy degrees year round, bordering on too cold, but it's refreshing after hours in the sun. come join her for a splash, or maybe just admire the view. )

↪ the deviant

( for all that clary ribs her about having a busy schedule, kimberly does have free evenings every so often, ones where she doesn't want to necessarily plan around another person or cater to anybody else's interests. on those evenings, she heads into the west side of the city, riding the trolley until it drops off just outside of a busy nightclub. she's sure there must be others, but the deviant's thumping bass had lured her in.

the music inside is loud and fast, upbeat dance-worthy hits and forgotten gems spun out by a dj on a second-story balcony; it's just right for sidling up to someone a little too closely at the bar, an excuse to linger with a grin and a pending drink order until someone catches the bartender for her. come buy her a drink, or maybe question her order or order her something else entirely. she won't complain. (much.)

and while the bar certainly offers its allure, the majority of her evening is spent on the dance floor itself, bass thumping in her chest as she lets her body move to the music. there's no planned steps here, no trained movements, just a natural rhythm. sometimes, she dances by herself, just lets the music guide her; sometimes, she reaches out, finds the first willing partner, lets them lead the way. come dance with her, or maybe just watch. just don't try to drag her off the floor before she's ready. )

↪ wildcard, etc.

( want something special? feel like dropping a starter for me? go for it, kids. feel free to hit me up via semicolons / supergirl#2740 / pm if you feel so inclined. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[tonight's music at the deviant isn't exactly what robbie would consider danceable, not by his standards. but that doesn't stop him from pulling on some dark jeans, a snug henley, and boots and joining the throng of people out on the dance floor. he's nodding his head along to the sound of some remix of some radio friendly hip hop/r&b artist — jason derulo or is it neyo? — when he spots a very familiar silhouette bending, twisting, and shifting along to the music.

while it may not be his sort of thing, he falls in line, just a few steps behind her. his hands aren't yet resting anywhere on her body, but rather hover just above.]

Wasn't expecting to see you out tonight, babe.

( on the floor, with the music louder than the echo of boots hitting the ground with each step, kimberly doesn't pay much attention to the come and go motions of other dancers. it's an unchoreographed dance; people switch partners, separate to move on their own, slip out of the crowd to get another drink or just to get some air.

she might have noticed, had he approached her from any other angle, but slipping between dancers to slide behind her means he manages to surprise her this time. not that she minds too much. the familiar sound of his voice is a welcome interruption, the warmth rolling off his body in waves a comforting sensation as she steps back, moves a little closer in response. )

You don't sound too disappointed to be wrong, either...

[they haven't exactly done this before. bodies pressed tightly against one another? sure. but dancing? not so much. he's not complaining in the least though, as his hands finally come to rest on her hips and he inches forward until his front is plastered to her back.

the bassline drops and all around them the swarm of bodies picks up in their movements. robbie murmurs, breath hot, into her ear.]

Not at all. Best thing I've seen all night.

( luckily, this isn't the sort of dancing that requires much experience. it's about listening to the beat, letting your body rock back and forth, releasing any inhibitions or discomfort in order to just be; it's no surprise, then, that kimberly feels at home on the dance floor, partially anonymous in a sea of other bodies.

he steps up into her, body nestled flush against her back, and his hands find easy purchase against her waist. the motion pulls at the too-short hem of her dress, one stolen from izzy's too-large collection of black and mesh — not that she makes any attempt to adjust it. )

Mm. ( is she a little tipsy? maybe more than a little. ) Hope you plan on doing more than just watching.

Do I ever just watch?

[it's a rhetorical question, answered by the immediate thrust of his hips against her. he trails a hand from her hips to the exposed skin of her thigh.

robbie looks around, carefully cataloging the crowd. everyone else is lost in their heads or focused on their dance partners. no one's paying any heed to the two of them.]

If I wanted to, I could take care of you right here. Nobody's looking.

That... ( is a terrible idea. even in her drink-fueled haze, kimberly recognizes the red flashing lights of danger, danger, will robinson in her peripheral. not that she doesn't want him to — she very much does, as easily evidenced by her own flushed grin, the hard swallow as she lets her head lean back against his shoulder.

but wanting to, enjoying the thought of it, even fantasizing about it a little... it's all very different from doing it. )

You could... might get caught, though.

[is there a certain thrill in doing something inappropriate in a place where they very well could get caught? sure. he likes the fact that it's pretty clear that she's thinking it over too, is weighing the pros and cons of getting frisky on the dance floor.

does he actually want to? yes. will he? probably not, but that doesn't mean he can't wind her up with the suggestion.]

Yeah, we might. But that's what's so exciting about it, right?

You're killing me.

( there's no subtle way for it to happen, not with the snug fabric of this particular dress. as good as she knows it might feel, it's a little too risky. but turning, letting her body twist to face him, arms looping around his neck as she leans into his touch... well, that's a little different. only it's not his hand she's feeling now. )

Buy me a drink and I'll think about it.

You think I'm any better off?

[he knows that she's most certainly felt him the moment that she's spun around and they're finally face to face, so he doesn't even bother to hide the groan or the way that his eyes roll back into his head as he chooses to grind against her as one song fades into the next.]

I guess I do owe you a drink, don't I? [his lips curl into a smile, recalling the last time they'd planned on going drinking.] Probably with interest.

Mm, no... ( she knows he's not. her own wanting is illustrated by the slow roll of her hips, the firm drag of her fingertips along the column of his neck, each motion matched to the kick of the drums in the background; they're in the same boat there, aware of what they want but unable to make it a reality in that immediate moment. ) But that's what's so exciting about it... right, babe?

( parroting his words back to him deserves a wide grin, and it's only the call of her own thirst that gets him off easy; rather than linger on the busy dance floor, a hand slides down to tangle with his, pulling him through the crowd until they find a nook of the busy bar counter. there's really only room for one person to stand, so he's (once again) pressed snug against her back while she flags down a bartender. )

A Long Island, please. ( and turning back to him again, once he's chimed in with his own order, ) Pretty sure it's a three-course meal at this point, if you're counting interest.

[a gulp and a nod is all she gets out of him in reply to that first statement. robbie is all too content to chase the motion of her hips until kim makes the decision for them both and beelines for the bar. being pressed snug against her would be alright if it weren't for the way that she bounces while trying to flag down a bartender, as if the extra inch or two of height is going to make that much of a difference. thankfully, the wait isn't too long and once she completes his order, he follows with his own: a whiskey and coke.

kim spins around while they wait for their drinks to be made and he has to resist a groan. figures she'd pick something really excessive as far as interest was concerned.]

That's a bit much, don't you think? I'm not exactly suit and tie dinner date material.

[or rather he doesn't have a suit or tie here so...]

( her brow wrinkles for a moment at his statement — because who is he kidding, he'd look great in a suit and tie — but any immediate response is interrupted by the surprisingly quick return of the bartender and the push of two drinks towards them.

she's careful to lift the glasses up and over the counter, out of the way, while robbie busies himself with settling the tab and tipping the bartender; in the meantime, she's all too happy to find a small booth near the side of the club, recently vacated and just enough space for two people to curl up and enjoy the atmosphere.

once they've settled in, and she's had a moment to sip at her own thankfully well-mixed drink, kimberly pipes up again, ) I think you'd look good in a suit, for the record.

[drinks paid for, robbie tracks kimberly down and settles beside her in the booth. it's not the dance floor, but the seating provides them a little privacy and a prime view of the throng of people without having to be in the middle of the action.

he takes a healthy swallow of his drink and looks at her with eyes wide with surprise.]

Too bad I don't own a suit.

No? ( she's admittedly a little surprised, at first, if only just because it seemed everyone had a suit, even if it wasn't well worn. but the surprise ebbs away fairly quickly, as kimberly thinks over the clothing she's brought with her here, and how little any of it would be appropriate for a dinner that called for a real suit and tie. if she didn't have anything, why would he?

she shrugs a bit, turning to curve her body a little more against his own, head resting against the back of the booth. ) Well, ( murmured over a slow sip of her drink, straw held in between her teeth as she considers her words. ) I don't have anything here either.

But I hear there are places you can find those sorts of things. If you wanted to.

[robbie leans back just a little, curves his arm out to allow her to snuggle that much closer to against him.

he peers at her carefully, the very image of faux innocence with her lips wrapped around her straw.]

You asking if I want to go on a little shopping trip? Help you pick out a cute little dress?

Maybe. ( it wasn't exactly what she'd meant. she wasn't opposed to the idea, though. ) It'd save me from having to send you pictures again.

( not that she thinks he'd mind that, either, but in person was usually preferable to a small screen. with a bit of a toothy grin around her straw, kimberly tilts her head up, peering up under heavily painted lashes. )

But only if I get to help you pick something too. Fair's fair.

I liked those pictures. [he knows what she'd been alluding to when she said that there were places to find those sorts of things. but the potential for helping kim pick out the outfit that he'd ultimately get to take off at the end of the night was too tempting a thing to ignore. pictures were great, but getting to ask her to twirl around was better.

is he opposed to having her pick out what he wears? not if it means the same for him, he decides.]

Fair is fair. I just don't want to feel like it's not me.

( she lets out a soft huff of a laugh under her breath, settling against him a little more firmly, free hand resting against his knee. it gives her opportunity to trail aimless patterns along his upper leg with her fingertips, just barely there pressure ghosting over the fabric of his jeans.

as if, she can't help but think, but her response is at least a little more forgiving. )

So we'll find something more casual, but still... ( a slow sip at her drink, all smiles as she lets the mental image form. no, there's no doubt in her mind he'll still look good in a blazer. a dress jacket. something not quite a suit, but not quite a hoodie either. ) I wouldn't make you get something you didn't like.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( open ) ❤ ❝ you're a fine girl ❞

errbody in da club getting...

...safely home #drinkresponsibly

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