Izzyindie​:

It seemed even after all this time, Lia was still more invested in making a good impression. Making it to places on time, even sometimes a lil earlier than she should. Made sure she looked like a million bucks, between the dresses and heels, and most certainly with the different gemstones that lined her neck and wrists. And yet, she still found herself waiting more times than not for a dirty blonde head to show up. A smile adorning both their faces once he did, and she always forgot why she was upset or that she had been forced to wait for however long.

And it didn’t bother her to much to wait, her wandering eyes and all.

Lia was used to having eyes on her, ever since she was a little kid. She knew how to capture the attention she so desperately craved, and she was good at keeping it. It was almost like she could feel it, the different gazes from different people in the room. The jealousy coming from the girls, an occasional smirk and a smile sent their way as she sipped her drink. Not that there was much to be jealous of, she was alone at the bar waiting for her knight in shining armor. But it was getting more and more frustrating for her, the waiting, and the games. Never knowing when he would show up, nor for how long. She was almost to her breaking point, but something kept her coming back despite wanting to tell Declan to fuck off.

Her eyes had been training to the bartender every so often, every time she found herself at the bar, she’d be stealing glances.

“Ironically, boss man himself doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” a small chuckle, almost breathlessly, left her lips. “I’m beginning to think it may be me,” a small pout forming as she looked up at him through her lashes. The alcohol over the past couple hours inhibiting her normal censorship of words, which was already limited.

@indiestars-rp​

the words of his childhood best-friend turned roommate, ricky rye with the wonky eye, ring in his ears not to “goof this one up” as he stands stiff behind the marble countertop this place tries to pass off as a bar.  he’s one of the line cooks, and the one that landed him the job at this fancy schmancy restaurant when the last bartender neglected to return after a roadtrip to saskatchewan  but of all the temporary jobs he’s held  over the years, he’s never had one where he had to address every customer strictly as “sir” or “ma’dam”, or put on a dress shirt and tie just to serve alcohol. and fuck what you heard, most rich people tip like shit. 

still, the job has one perk. 

all night he’s been stealing glances of the doe-eyed beauty from the opposite end of the bar, certain that the boss man would be in any minute now to ward off any wandering eyes, lay claim to her with a kiss on the cheek and a pompous glare thrown strategically in the direction of the help. a subtle reminder to all the little people, yet again, of why he truly was a master of the universe.

but as minutes turn to hours he grows a little bolder. until finally, when her glass needs refilling, he tells tamara that he’s got it this time. 

“boss man must be running late” he offers nonchalantly as he goes to mix another martini, and wonders deep down what in the world could be important enough to keep a girl like this waiting. 

The Taming of the Scoundrel (1980).

🍑okay brandon michael lee🍑

CRUEL INTENTIONS 1999 | dir. Roger Kumble

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,”

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

do u take constructive criticism

i only take cash or credit 

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,”