Starletwrites​:

starletwrites​:

he’s no stranger to mr. impervious, may have only been employed at della femmina for about two weeks now but when the brunette beauty sheds light on his impatient streak he instantly recalls having been snapped at for not having the man’s friday 5 o’clock old fashioned ready for him the moment he walked through the door. like he was just supposed to know. he assumes since the silver spoon he’s been made to feel very important, and now he leads a very important life, consorting with other very important people, and protecting what’s most important–his money. but what would he know, anyway? he didn’t grow up with two pennies to rub together and these days he hustles, (and apparently gets dressed in bowties and tight ass blouses) to keep the lights on. 

his thoughts return to her though. and he’s aware that it’s mostly none of his business, but he can’t help but think about where he picked her up. “college?” he wonders, as he rattles the martini shaker, maybe she also had a set of loaded parents that set them up. people with money were into that kind of shit, right? maintaining the bloodlines and all. but any train of thought he has is interrupted when he takes note of her grim expression. 

“hey, hey, hey–no pouting at my bar” he says in a tone that’s half stern, half playful. wags his finger as if the rule were plastered behind him in bright red letters for all to see. steadily, he pours her a new glass and immediately assumes his default of reassuring goofball. ’m sure your boyfriend’s gonna come through that door any minute with a bouquet bigger than ya head” he’s all animated, gesturing with his hands til he realizes–”not that your head is big or nothing…” he clarifies a little more meekly. and before she gets the chance to look at him funny–

“i’m angel” not carlos like his name tag reads, apparently such a fancy establishment couldn’t be bothered to have a new one created for his first few shifts. “a girl’s name i know, don’t worry i got clowned enough for it in elementary”

It wasn’t anything new to Amelia, the way he treated the bartenders or waiters at restaurants. At first it intrigued her, having the unlimited wealth to do just about anything you wanted, no repercussions. It was something she looked for her entire life, having access to an amount that equaled half of the Coyne wealth once. But losing it and having to find means to get back what she once knew, that’s something he would never understand. Hell Lia hadn’t been honest with him about her line of work before Declan, all the different men and places she’s gone. All of them hid away in her memory, and the documents hiding in a box shoved to the back of the closet. It was something he didn’t have to understand, working for money. Even if it was a semi illegal way for Lia to do so.

She had been playing with her empty glass, her finger lightly brushing against the bottom of the bowl to spin it around. Her mind occupied with wondering where exactly her knight in shining armor was, glancing towards the door for a moment before moving back to her glass. Lia couldn’t say she was shocked by his late arrival, or lack there of an arrival. It wasn’t always like that, he always made a point to pick her up and show her off in the beginning. And now, here she was going on hour three of waiting, And she also suddenly became aware of little details. For instance, it wasn’t very often was she asked about their relationship, despite the length they’d been together, and definitely not asked about how they came to be. She assumed Declan had already told his people, or the people around him; but maybe they just didn’t care about his lil arm candy much. Or he just didn’t care to talk about her and have to make up stories about her life and wealth.

A small giggle leaves her lips as she sits up a little straighter, the male gaze always bringing some kind of confidence to Amelia. “I should’ve noticed the neon lights screaming no pouting only alcohol how dare I,” a playful tone in her words, watching the liquid stream down into her glass, almost transfixed on the movement for some reason. “I would bet money on there being no bouquet, I can’t remember the last time my fiancé surprised me,” she sighed, before shrugging it off, “but that’s what alcohol and drugs are for, to brush it off and forget about it,” nodding her head with her words, confirming it for herself. The messed up cycle she created years ago, always seemed to find its way back to her.

She glanced down at the name tag he wore and raised a brow, “um, angel, sweetie, you’re name tag is lying to everyone here,” she jokingly whispered to him, keeping a serious look on her face but the giggle came through almost instantly. “I think it’s cute, you could like play into the whole guardian angel thing if you think about it,” taking a sip of her drink, extending her hand out, after making sure her drink was secure on the bar top. “Amelia, it’s a pleasure to actually speak with you Angel,”

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

@izzyindie @starletwrites

The Powerpuff Girls

Amelia Rosenburg, Tori Santamaria, And Vanessa Montgomery

@toriscnta @thevmontgomery

Alexa Demie

Shameless meme: 9 characters “I’m gonna teach you self-defense. Milkovich style.” (2/9)

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. 

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,”

The Taming of the Scoundrel (1980).