Cindy Kimberly Via Instagram

starletwrites​:

“amelia” leaves his lips in a haughty sigh as she click clacks toward their outdoor area and declan runs two fingers over his eyelids in pure exhaustion. he wrestles with himself for a moment, whether it’s worth the fight so close to bedtime, before following her out. plunks down at her adjacent on one of the outdoor wicker chairs that came with the place. “you know how I feel about your drinking habits, especially in my establishments—“ the scotch in his glass prevents him from mincing words. she could drain back to back blue amalfis at their local olive garden if she so chose, but in front of his peers and colleagues the expectation was that she remained prim and proper as they come. like she too had been force fed twenty six years worth of lessons in table manners and general etiquette. “how does it look if my fiancé, the woman I’m supposed to be starting a life with, is downing cocktails at the bar like it’s going out of style!”

he knows he’s partially to blame, more than aware that she was equally troubled as she was beautiful before he ever picked out a clear cut diamond to glimmer prettily from her left hand. but he can assume that she didn’t walk into this relationship blind to the kind of man he was either—one from a rigid upbringing, inebriated on power and control, with ultimate awareness of how important keeping up appearances is to maintaining the veneer of perfection that’s been passed down from generation to generation like an antique necklace or a house in the hamptons.

“i know you don’t care what people think but that attitude doesn’t get you very far in this world. it just doesn’t. how many people do you think are gonna want to work with a designer with an alcohol pr—“ his tone softens as he settles on dark irises, had always found brown eyes boring until he discovered so much hidden depth behind hers. a sigh leaves his lips, so exasperated it sounds like it’s been building up for a lifetime, a clear surrender of sorts. because he’s not out to hurt her, only to make her understand. “I’m not asking you to be this perfect lady, and host society brunches and wear skirts down to your ankles. …I just want you to be aware of your actions when you’re in public, of how they’ll reflect on both of us…it’s time to grow up amelia, and start considering our future together”

Lia set herself up, grinding her weed and getting her wrap ready to roll. Wanting nothing more than to face a blunt and go to bed, ready for a new adventure the day held. Everything was stressing her out now, a much different feeling than she had started her night with. Turning to face Declan as he came on the balcony, listening to his words as she rolled her blunt. “It looks like I’m a 25 year old girl spending her time at a bar, waiting by myself for my fiancé who happens to own the bar. I understand you’re busy, and youre working, but I can’t be expected to act a specific way when you yourself are out doing the same thing but your with colleagues so it’s different right?”

Amelia knew what being in a relationship with Declan meant, that she had to be the most upstanding citizen she could possibly be. Keeping her words proper, no cuss words, no slang, full sentences that make sense to everyone. She took more business classes, to learn the language Declan and his colleagues used, having wanted to try and be more involved in the conversations and not sound out of place. Lia had put more time and effort in becoming a different version of herself for the people Declan surrounded himself with, and yet he continued pointing out more things she needed to work on. Time and time again, she had to continue to change.

She pauses her movements, and glances up at him as he continues his words, “First of all Declan, I don’t have a drinking problem. I wake up and go about my life, 9/10 times I don’t drink during the day. I enjoy alcohol, but it takes a lot more than a couple drinks or shots to get me intoxicated. I’m well aware of my own tolerance and how to pace myself after my history. I’ve done more than enough damage in my past life to drink myself into a coma anymore,” having spent a six month stint in and out of the hospital more times than she cared to count before she was of legal drinking age probably wasn’t the best history for the new Coyne heiress. But then again, they neednt know all her business, but Declan did. Amelia understood he was worried, and just wanted to protect her of sorts. But she had been independent far to long to have a father looking over her shoulder and monitoring her intake. “I’ll never be this perfect little princess they hope for me to be, I’ve never been that kind of girl even when I had to hold up my own standards in my family. I’m not gonna pretend to be someone just because people will get upset from something, I’ve done a lot of changing and a lot of pretending with people you’ve brought me around. But if I’m stuck in a bar, you told me to meet you at, and you don’t show up for hours and hours on end, then I’m not gonna sit there sipping water for five hours when I can have a couple drinks. Then drink a couple glasses of water, and then some more alcohol. I’m not an idiot, nor sloppy, never have been. Just an idiot at times,”

starletwrites​:

fiancé. the word rings in his ears no sooner than he can spot the glacier poised perfectly on one of her dainty fingers like it was made for her. as far as he knows, it was. and it immediately occurs to him that if he thought this girl was out of his league before, she’s light years away by now. if there’s one thing he’s learned in this life it’s that so many things are purely transactional. girls with the looks to land the big ballers do, and they don’t look back. hell, he wouldn’t either if it guaranteed a rock the size of an ice-skating rink and a life most can only dream of. 

but he considers her, the way her lip curls just slightly at his lame joke, and he’s not ready to dub her a gold-digger just yet. “she smiles” he comments the minute her expression breaks, eyes transfixed on the dimples in her cheeks, the deepest he’s ever seen in real life. and he can’t help but feel just a little proud to have made her smile like that. even if this is the only interaction they’ll ever have, he can walk away with the consolation that he could at least make a dull evening less so. he’s always prided himself on his ability to lighten the mood, even at his own expense. maybe leaned into it a little too much back in high school, when he got suspended for burping the pledge of allegiance over the intercom and setting off firecrackers in the boy’s bathroom. but since his nuts dropped and the semi-maturity kicked in, he’s been able to find a healthy balance between class clown and complete idiot. 

“one rose for every minute you’ve been sitting here, it’s only right–”  and he doesn’t disclose this information to his usual patrons, but she seems about thirty years younger, and ten times cooler than most of the people that frequent this place. “you know–” he speaks an octave lower, “if you’re ever looking for a little escape i happen to specialize in herbal refreshments. good shit too, straight from cali” he brags a little, plays around with so many things but never about his premium supply. 

leaning over onto his elbows, he smiles a tiny smile when she butters him up, can’t tell if she’s being genuine or just blowing smoke, but he prefers to be kept guessing anyway. he shakes her hand, fancy rock and all, and thinks fast for some excuse to keep the conversation going. “so miss amelia…you know gut-spilling is pretty customary to the bartender/client relationship and this place doesn’t close for another half hour…story for a story? i know you got some crazy ones, don’t hold out on me girl”

Lia had always hoped to become the housewife. Never having to lift a finger to do anything, and being able to infinitely shop as much as she would like. Her closet already a prime example of such, everything she dreamed of and more. And yet, she still didn’t feel complete. Like something was missing, perhaps money didn’t actually buy happiness. Oh who was she kidding, it bought her happiness. But having attention from the person she loved brought her more, and as the years of gone on she found herself losing it more and more. It left her feeling conflicted, not knowing her next move.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t found herself admiring the man behind the bar before, wondering what his story was. How he ended up in such a prim and proper place, yet seemed out of place almost. She found him intriguing, always seeming to make the best with the customers despite the more savory comments made by them. He still held his cool, a small laugh and a comment from him before he began their drinks. She caught herself watching him more than she wanted to admit, the way his lips curled as he smiled, the dimples on his face just as if not more apparent as her own. But it was the humor that captured her, the playfulness in almost all his comments she had been able to hear. Whether to make someone feel better, or just to make conversation. She enjoyed the little glimpses she could get, whether her fiancé was around or not.

“Now that would surprise me, might even get lucky with that gift,” sipping her drink with a raised brow, “well well well, the dirty secret has been revealed,” shrugging ever so slightly, crossing her legs under the bar top, “but I will play along, and gladly take some of whatever you have to offer. I’m quite well versed,” knowing the amount of people their age around the place, it wasn’t the best place to sell. But then again, every so often the old rich guys would want to show off for their younger play things. Something Lia was used to in her past life, and the showing off was always worth it for her.

His hands were softer than she expected, but still had a certain roughness to them that felt good against her well manicured and moisturized hands. Adjusting her ring slightly before smirking at his words, leaning in closer as she spoke, “well that depends on which part of my life you want to hear about, I’ve been lucky to experience quite a bit in my short time of life. Some activities more illegal than the others, but all fun none the less,”

starletwrites​:

“you seem in good spirits–” he observes aloud, was partially expecting to walk straight into some kind of deathtrap or at the very least, an earful, after spending the better part of an evening that had been reserved for her, eating wagyu beef with his work chums. he figures maybe they’re beginning to understand each other a little better after all. “but i’m glad that all that’s ironed out because now i can focus on which destination you and i will be jetting off to this weekend to celebrate–” he offers as consolation, grinning wolfishly as he tucks a stray strand behind her ear. “i was thinking somewhere tropical, with lots of room service and very little clothing” 

she looks so absolutely enticing tonight, the red stain on her lips having always been his personal preference. briefly, he wonders whether she wore it for him or the onlookers who’d inevitably gawk as she passes by. either way, she was not a woman unaware of her power. it was quite possibly the only thing that held up against his brazenness and endless cash supply, the only thing that could literally bring him to his knees. it’s why he asked her to marry him, after dinner, and only five months of dating, in their private lagoon in iceland, with much fanfare from the resort staff in the form of white rose petals and rare champagne. it’s not necessarily the thought of being without her that drives him mad, but the thought of her ending up with someone that wasn’t him. 

he holds his jacket out for her to take, knows that the night air has hit since she arrived, and that the manhattan junior league would be pleased to see that all his chivalrous training had not been for naught. he escorts her out, hand positioned at the small of her back and nods to acknowledge the maitre d who stands at attention until he’s out the door. by the time they make it, the aston is already revved up and waiting to take them to the suite they’re staying in until the contractors finish renovations on the place they’re supposed to be moving into. a beautiful, stately, 5 bedroom, 6 bath that the governor used to reside in, to be completed by the wedding. speaking of–

“how’s wedding planning coming along?” he’s left the task mostly to her, only checking in when it’s absolutely imperative or she invokes his input for the fifth time in a row. “my mother wanted to be sure you add a few more people to the guest list…” she’s been looming over this entire process, allowing lia to think she was in control but ensuring everything was up to coyne standard. declan is, afterall, her dashing boy. and she’s been bragging to the ladies at hamilton house that it would certainly be the event of whatever season it’s in.

“I’ve been able to experience some of the different cocktails offered, I’ve discovered a new favorite,” she teased, but while in truth she had the drinks. Lia also didn’t wanna bring their personal drama into the restaurant. Not everyone needed to know what was going on. Under most circumstances she would’ve popped off at least a little bit on him, but the drinks and good conversation had made her feel a little less confrontational. “I’ve been dying to get out of the cold, it’s annoying having to wear a big coat over everything,” huffing a little bit before a small smirk tugged at her lips, “I did place an order for some pretty lingerie and bikinis, I was planning on giving you a fashion show later but surprising you on a trip sounds even more exciting,”

From the minute she discovered the red lipstick as a young child in her sisters makeup, it was what she dreamed of. It made her feel prettier, like she had the attention that Lia thought she deserved. And ever since she started wearing makeup it was her staple, her lucky charm in a sense. The amount of confidence she got from a few swipes of a lipstick was more than she cared to admit. But it was the truth, with her outfits and her makeup it always felt like she could take over the world. And in a sense she had with her clothing line, and experienced it every time she saw someone wear her clothes. But Declan managed to do something similar, having him by her side, *almost*, at her beck and call. It was exhilarating in a sense. Having such a powerful man there for her and ready to run the world together. It’s why she didn’t even hesitate to say yes when he asked her to marry him, not for the private villas or designer closets filled with months worths of non repeating outfits. But because she had genuinely fallen in love with someone who made her feel as good about herself as her fashion had.

“Thank you,” fell from her lips as she stood from her chair, wrapping the jacket a little tighter around herself. Smiling softly as the scent of whiskey and his cologne filled her nostrils. Soft clicks of her heels making her way out the door, nodding softly with a smile on her face to say goodbye the different people she passed. Sliding simply into the seat of the car, and gently placing her bag down on the floor beneath her. Ready to get home and slip into something more comfortable and spend her night with Declan.

“It’s coming along, I finally decided on the floral arrangements and a few parts of the decorations,” a soft smile as she thought of her little book at home with all the details. “I’m still working through a color scheme, he’s proving to be more difficult than I thought it would. There’s so many beautiful colors out there,” sighing softly and leaning back against the seat behind her, “I haven’t even heard of half the people she invited last time you told me that. Why do I want random people at my wedding because your mother wants them there?” Rolling her eyes before shaking her head, “Its my wedding, I’m not continuously going to please her,” Finallt turning to look at him with a sigh, “Anyway, Nessa, Tori, and I are gonna go dress shopping soon. I can’t wait to see all the different options and feel like a Princess,”sending him a soft smile, grabbing his hand in hers, “Any requests or ideas for my dress sir?”

That ‘70s Show (1998 — 2006) Jackie Says Cheese

We’re all we have left. We ought to be able to stick together against everything. If we don’t have each other, we don’t have anything.

THE OUTSIDERS 1983 | dir. Francis Ford Coppola

it's THIS beautiful man's birthday today. so happy birthday to the legend Brandon Michael Lee Arreaga!!! I love you so much my little bee <3

@izzyindie

STEVEN HYDE & JACKIE BURKHART in THAT ’70s SHOW ── season 5, episode 2.

It was an unfortunate time for Lia, her tire getting a flat on the way to school. Making her free period null and void in her mind. Her only hope to make it worth it, that the drama room was empty and perhaps she could steal a couple pulls from her pen. A new habit she had picked up as things in her house started to turn to disarray. But the distinct sound of a beer cracking however made her all to aware of the other presence in the room. Her heels clicking slightly as she came around the corner, only to be met with the blue eyed male. A small smirk crossing her red lips with a chuckle, “Who am I to rat on you, you keep my secrets Ill keep yours,” 

“Oh shit,” Luke called out as the beer exploded in his hand. It wasn’t unlike Luke to be using his free period to hide out in the drama rehearsal room with a few of his boys before his next class, but in effort to kill his hangover from the night before, he snuck a beer real quick, hoping to get out before first block. That was util the foot steps began approaching him. He’d seen the raven-haired girl around campus, maybe in homeroom? “I’ll give you one if you promise not to rat me out.” @indiestars-rp​