Indiestars-rp - Uncharted Constellations

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

izzyindie​:

“Sir? Took you for more a Daddy type,” Luke smirked. He didn’t know just yet how far he could push his luck with the girl, but Luke was interested enough that he’d be entertain the entire time. “And if not, I’m sure I’ve got some poisons to alleviate the stress.” It wasn’t a secret that the Hounds party, Luke however was an exception. He was always seen as the Mama’s Boy or the Designated Driver, no one truly knew what poison Luke used, and he kept it that way, but with Lia’s reputation he knew he’d be in for a treat. It was a brief walk, moving to open any doors for the girl just like his mama taught him. “Don’t play any of that Taylor Swift or Lady A crap. I get enough of that with Becky driving to school.”

Her strides falter for only a moment as she took in his words, a simple nod with a smirk on her lips, “Perhaps I like both, whatever you prefer Daddy,” Lia listened to his words, having been to one or two of the hounds parties. Luke either never showing up or disappearing halfway through the night she eventually just stopped looking for him. But that didn’t mean her intrigue on him diminished any, if anything only strengthened. “And what kind of poisons might that be?” A perfectly kept brow raising at him, her eyes glinting with mischief and curiosity. “I wouldn’t dare, I’m a little insulted you think I would,”

starletwrites​:

he matches her expression. thick brows raised, just subtly at her comment about getting lucky. angel wasn’t sure that he even believed in luck,  not in the sense of four leafed clovers and wishing on stars anyway. all his luck had to be created, almost manufactured to the point that he didn’t know if it still qualified as luck at all, or rather just the universe finally throwing throwing him a bone. but in the moment, hearing the word spring so confidently from her lips, he’s certain that she could get him to believe in anything as long as it comes out in that same silvery tone. 

“well versed, huh? well how’s about a deal? if your fiancé doesn’t walk through those doors in the next twenty minutes i’ll smoke you out in my car–” he mentions, feeling a little bold. usually tries not to get high off his own supply, but for this one he makes a mental note to simply pay himself back. “and if it ain’t some of the best shit you’ve ever had i’ll get you whatever you want to eat after” he realizes that if his boss caught wind of his little plan he’d be without a job before he could say ‘munchies’, but he rationalizes it in his head as a friendly gesture. anyone knows that food is only the next logical step to follow a fat joint, and if they picked up buffalo wings and ate them in the front seat it most certainly did not qualify as a date. 

he lingers in their handshake maybe a little longer than he should’ve. and he never feels shy, but for some reason can’t resist the urge to briefly break eye-contact as she too leans a little closer. “well…anything” he speaks in earnest, “anything you want, but bonus if it’s funny-” he notices tamara start to clean, doesn’t want to be left behind on the hull so he at least makes himself look busy by wiping down the same spot three times over. “here i’ll go first. when i was in the second grade my mama shaved my head–i’m talking bald, bald mr. clean type shit. i don’t know if it was a miami thing or what, but all the moms shaved their kids heads to make their hair grow in better. only thing is–most of em’ did it before their kids even turned two, so here they are with these full heads of hair by the time we’re seven and i’m over here looking like vin diesel” one of his proudest accomplishments is making sure that no photographs from that era have ever seen the light of day, but even without the physical evidence the image in his mind’s eye is clear as day. “so boom, valentine’s day rolls around like a week after, and my shit is still looking tragic. and there was this one girl, lorena cook, that i had my ma get a little extra candy for because i’d been planning for months to ask her out on the big day. but i couldn’t step to my honey with a jacked up hairline. soo…i went in my abuelita’s wig closet, got one of her short wigs and cut it even shorter so it was mad patchy, and stuffed it in my bag to wear to school the next day, so it went from mr. clean to little richard if he let ray charles do his line ups..needless to say that ended with my teacher calling home crying laughing and a chancla to the face” 

Lia slowly placed her hand back into her lap as he let go, suddenly aware of the lost warmth, a slight draft enveloping her hand back into the chill of the room. Red manicured fingers circling the stem of the glass, bringing it to her matching lips and sipping as he spoke. Laughing at the animated way he told the story, picturing the current curly locks on his head gone and an egg in its place. “I feel like I’ve heard this story from one or two cousins at one point but continue,” she quipped, hanging onto every word as if it was the best story she heard. Hoping to one day get him to show her a picture to replace the image she was creating herself. Her hand softly covering her mouth as she tried to hide the laugh that bubbled out as he finished his story, her smile evident as she finally dropped it back to her lap. “I think you would’ve looked great, egghead or horrible lace front aside,”

“Now, I can’t say I have bad hair stories, one thing my mama and older sister instilled in me was to make sure your hair was always put together,” shrugging slightly, “however, i do have a bad wardrobe moment,” sipping her drink one more time before sitting up straighter in her seat. “When i was probably about 8 or 9, my cousin Tori was always in pageants as we grew up. And I of course wanted the pretty princess dress with the ginormous poof that dragged on the ground and got dirty within four seconds of wearing it. But it was toris thing and I didn’t want to infringe on her thing even at a young age. My mother however, thought differently and enrolled me in a pageant. So there I was, backstage at my first pageant, watching all the other girls perform their talents. And I had decided I was gonna do some tumbling, you know the flips and bounces you see gymnasts or cheerleaders do,” her hands bouncing around in front of her like she was trying to show what she meant with her fingers, “I was always good at it, picked it up quick, so I knew it would do good with judges. Wellll, I decided I would wear my bright magenta gown to do these tumbling tricks, the more movement the better right? Wrong. I started my first handspring and as I landed on my feet, the right one landed on the bottom of the dress and as i stood up a loud rip was heard and the room went silent. Now, Amelia being the center of attention I am, decided I was gonna just keep going and act like it never happened. Except when I landed on it again, this time ripping the entire skirt off thanks to the first rip, and my care bear underwear on display for everyone backstage and in front of me, never did another pageant again. Tori could keep it and I’d move on to cheerleading, no long dresses involved,” and to this day, Lia will typically be found in a short dress, or a two piece skirt and top.

ladies meme: 8 friendships · fiona gallagher & veronica fisher (shameless) “You’re Fiona Gallagher. You can do anything you set your mind to. You got your GED. You’ve been raising a family of six since you were fifteen years old. You’re a rockstar.”

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,”

izzyindie​:

“Not that I’m complaining about the company,” Luke called out, clearly checking the girl’s body out. He’d seen the girl around, hanging around the bottle blondes and spirit squad sluts mostly, and there was always something about her that drew him in. The girl’s dark features contrast drastically with his All American look and she always seemed to have this air about her. The guys had mentioned her name i the locker room, stories of her in the boiler room and better at the ravine. “You gotta name beautiful?”

She shook her head lightly, a small smirk playing on her features. She enjoyed the attention, and maybe that was why she built the reputation she had. “I like to believe I’m great company, been told it once or twice,” a small shrug as she slowly made her way closer to him. Taking a spot on the opposite end of the couch, crossing her legs as she looked back over at him. She recognized him from around the halls, hearing a few different stories about the type of person he was. But believing none of what she heard about anyone till she actually got to know them, she was intrigued with what she heard to say the least. “Amelia, and yourself handsome?”

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,”

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