the crestfallen

isabelle flores 34 ♔ paralegal - ♔ - "I have this strange feeling that I'm not myself anymore. It's hard to put into words, but I guess it's like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling."

[lastdaysofmagic]

He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go.

Becca Fitzpatrick, Crescendo  (via foxrph)

[shareaquote]

I feel safe in my sadness and that scares me.

meliseeeex (via shareaquote)

[isablleflores]

katrinaunger:

Katrina hadn’t been paying attention, instead, her head was bowed over her mobile as she revised another instagram post to draft for Liam. It was a shrill voice that made her look up in alarm, clicking her phone shut before finding someone’s arm wrapped around her. She laughed finally, gauging the situation and the other woman who seemed helplessly involved. Shoving off the unwelcome arm, she reached once more for her drink, sipping it. “This is almost better than Bravo.”

                 She turned her way, eyes narrowed with her head tilted to the side. “---Is it? At least on Bravo, I’m not actually sitting in-between two people in.... obvious need of therapy,” she commented, thankful that the couple was too busy yelling at each other to hear them. “Isabelle, by the way,” she greeted, a hand presented before her.

[isablleflores]

lancesutherland:

Lance hadn’t expected to see one of his cousins out in Westport. There had never been anything weird between he and Isabelle, and for once, he was glad. “You’re lucky my momma don’t know you’re here yet. She would tell ya you’re too damn skinny and feed ya about five times before ya left.” He put his chin in his hand, “Hell yeah we do. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

                 She sighs heavily, sinking into her seat. “I’m considering having her not fight out at all--- because while your mom might be concerned with my figure, mine would have no problem snapping me in half for even talking to you guys.” Isabelle sighs heavily, quickly pulling her hair into a messy bun. There was a notable pause at first, the brunette wondering where she should start. Lance hardly knew a thing... there was so much he didn’t know. “Well... little things first, I work at Coburn and Associates,” she smiles softly, leaning back comfortably. “My boss is... a piece of work.”

[isablleflores]

cheyennemesserschmidt:

“What….in the hell….” was the only thing Cheyenne could say when she ate it, and it tasted quite…different. “What the hell did I just taste just now?”

                   “Eggplant, maybe?” Isabelle answered as she made it closer to Cheyenne’s table.”I’m not a fan of it either, but I’m just guessing by the way it looks. Thank you, by the way. The case went smoothly.”

[isablleflores]

             he isn’t coming back              whispered my head              he has to               sobbed my heart

                     — rupi kaur

[isablleflores]

                      “Fuck, just leave me alone! Please!” Isabelle cried out, pushing off concerned bystanders as they watched her drunkenly exit the bar. It was a tough night--- year and a half to be exact. It was Salvador’s birthday and although Isabelle believed she’d handle tonight better than last year, she did not. Every year, they had a pasta making tradition that brought out the purest joy in her. Remembering their times in the kitchen broke her heart, and --clearly-- the wine she had at home just wasn’t strong enough to numb it. She clung onto the wall as soon as the Georgia breeze hit her, tears immediately falling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cursed, wiping her cheeks in frustration. She needed to get home now, or she’d find herself waking up in a bush.... again. Pushing herself off the wall, she bumps into another, eyes peering up at the sight of her ‘boss’... or, ‘co-boss’. She pushes him harshly without a word, continuing to wipe her cheeks as she stumbles onto the concrete floor. “Fuck!” she yells out in pain, cowering over her sprained ankle.    @guswalkcr

[isablleflores]

                Isabelle was in her natural habitat--- the bar, loud or depressing music, surrounded by people with issues on top of issues. The brunette would never admit it, but sometimes she went just for the show displayed by drunks. It was also a reminder to never let herself get that bad--- in public, at least. Tonight, it was a couple putting on a show. She assumed they were fighting, but Isabelle nearly lost it when she walked over beside another, claiming she’d go home with her and not her boyfriend. In a fit of giggles in a clear buzzed state, Isabelle watched them closely, shaking her head until the boyfriend wrapped her arm around Isabelle. “I’ll just go home with her then!” She retracted immediately, brows narrowing. “---Do not drag me into this mess,” she managed to protest, still laughing. Eyes motioning towards the victim involved. “---I mean, us! Don’t involve us!”  @katrinaunger

[isablleflores]

                "Don’t look back,” she half-whispers, brushing her hair back as she leans closer to the stranger, a fake smile growing on her lips. “I paid the guy one compliment and now he won’t leave me alone,” she rolls her eyes subtly, letting her hand hover over her clearly annoyed expression. Quickly, however, she changes into a more playful demeanor, faking her smile, as though she were talking about something less dire than her desperate need of a cover. “I told him you were with me, so please do me this favor and I promise I’ll repay it. ---I mean, of course... nothing creepy or illegal. I mean, like... a free taco or something along those lines.”  @kaidenhwthrne

[isablleflores]

casey-j-roberts:

“So, I’m running an unofficial poll at this point.” Casey commented to the person nearby as he waited for his coffee, “To see if anyone else has ideas on things I could to this summer with my daughter that she would think is fun but also isn’t going to completely break the bank. Because so far at least half of my suggestions have been met with ‘That’s boring, Daddy’.” he said with a small sigh, “So museums, hikes, and bowling … all definite ‘no’s.” 

                  Isabelle knew she had this ‘ice cold bitch’ reputation beginning to grow back at the office. She had a case of serious ‘resting bitch face’, with symptoms of ‘the inability to socialize’ aiding her nicely with her relationship with her coworkers. Isabelle didn’t mind so much, at first. She had no problem keeping to herself for the first few weeks, not bothered by the silence and minimal conversation at all. However, the longer the days got, the quicker she realized she couldn’t just be mute to everyone forever. Which was why she was here now, accompanying one of the lawyers --Casey Roberts-- on a coffee run. It was simple and quick enough to establish a trivial connection, which was all Isabelle ever wanted: something easy and at a distance. "You’re out of luck with me, Mr. Roberts,” she turns after crossing her arms, a soft grin resting on her features. “The closest I’ve come with kids lately was yelling profanities at these elementary boys at the Marine Centre a few weeks ago. I’m hardly kid material.” Which was ironic, for how badly she wanted to be a mother before she came to Westport.

[holaitsliza]

And at night, tears replaced anger, making her feel lonelier than she really was.

L.R. excerpt from a book I’ll never write (via holaitsliza)

[isablleflores]

               "I know, I’m awful,” Isabelle sighs, plopping down in the seat across from Lance. “But managing to get a day off after only being here for a month or so--- nearly impossible.” She then reaches her hand out to him, holding it affectionately before settling into her seat. “But I’m really glad I got the chance. It’s been way too long, cuz.” She smiles softly. Only family could truly bring out the best in Isabelle. Despite running away from everyone just to get a peace of mind, Lance was different. Sure, their mothers were in this long, decade-old fight no one remembers, but Isabelle could never truly cut out her own flesh and blood. Strangely, his presence in Westport had brought her way more peace she could ever imagine. “We have... a lot to catch up on.”  @lancesutherland

[isablleflores]

dylansutton:

“Hey, Sorry to bother you,” Dylan mumbled as she walked up to someone and eyed their hands for a moment, wondering if what they were playing with was what she wanted. “Don’t happen to have a spare cigarette and lighter laying around, do you?” 

                       She turns innocently, phone in hand at the brunette’s greeting. However, at the mention of a cigarette, her features fall immediately. “--I don’t.” She answers dryly, only to then lift her head again to add her two cents. “You probably shouldn’t be smoking.” Which was ironic for an alcoholic, truly.

[isablleflores]

amber-abernathy:

“A newbie, huh?” Amber asked, one corner of her mouth quirking up into a grin, her blue eyes trained expertly on the lot of her first graders - who tended to disappear without a second’s notice if her attention wavered elsewhere. “Well, welcome to Westport then,” she added softly, managing a real grin this time, her eyes flitting back to Isabelle before returning to the exhibit. It was amazing the difference in persona from just a few moments ago, and for that the blonde was grateful. “Big city life to this place is honestly an adjustment,” Amber mused once more, shifting her weight back and forth. “I came from Chicago originally. But that was a long time ago.”

               Isabelle nods subtly, sighing as she lets her arms cross. “Yeah...” she half-whispers, still agonizing over the facts of her move. She didn’t know what else to say, but when the blonde had mentioned coming from Chigaco, there was a slight peak of interest at their vaguely similar situations. Evidently, reasons for moving to Westport weren’t the same--- but perhaps it was the small fact of neither of them being Westport natives that made her feel at peace. “I heard they have great deep dish pizza,” she attempts to joke, smiling to herself. “----How long ago was it?”

[isablleflores]

cheyennemesserschmidt:

Looking up from looking through her file-flipping, she sighed when she saw Isabelle standing over her, arms crossed. “So you’re just gonna stand there and watch me as I go through the flies, eh?” Cheyenne teased, cracking a smile before dropping it and looked through each file that she needed. It didn’t take her long, about nearly an hour or two, and then when she was done looking through the last one, signing off on things that needed to be signed. “There, all done and looked over. Anything else, Miss Flores, or is that all?”

                  Isabelle nods, brows raising. “If it gets it done faster,” she smiles softly, sitting down in the nearest seat to her. As she waits, the paralegal looks over the other files she had received from various people in the police station, making sure everything was all intact before she headed back to the office to compile the papers needed for court the next day. Upon hearing that she was finally done, Isabelle stands, nodding as she returns to her desk. “That is all, detective,” she smiles brightly. “Thank you for your time. Sorry--- you know how it is, lawyers are super pushy.”

[isablleflores]

lylebancroft:

The Speakeasy was an escape to Lyle, and a muse, on occasion. She was always drawn the art deco aesthetic of the roaring 20s, though everyone was quick to tell her that romanticizing a time like that was incredibly damaging and shallow. This should have bothered her, and did in some ways, but for someone who wore her shallow, destructive nature like a badge of honor, it never really sat too long on her mind. Plenty of her evening wear can be credited to the inspiration of The Speakeasy, and she had the sketches and money to prove it. Her latest line, however, targeted a different population than her sweeping skirts and flapper-esque dresses. Cherry Bomb targeted the girls dripping in money, the girls that tasted like whiskey and rebellion and good sex, the seductresses, the vixens, the women like her- when she wasn’t donning her pale pink uniform of diamonds and silks, she was every bit as mischievous as her target audience. She turned to face the woman, a smile that looked a bit too much like a smirk to be considered kind tugging at her painted lips. “I am. My line just sold out in three hours.” She lifted her glass in recognition of her own success, before remembering courtesy. “And yourself? Are you celebrating? Escaping? Or are you just drinking to forget?”

                      Isabelle’s brows lifted at her following comment. “Wow,” she smiles softly, impressed. “I’ve never met a fashion designer. That’s pretty cool.” Evidently, the brunette’s entire life had been surrounded by people who worked to survive. Whether it be labor, the family business, or anything that secures financial stability. Of course, that didn’t mean fashion wasn’t good money--- but the competition was high, at least... to her ‘Project Runway’ knowledge. So, it truly was impressive to hear that someone was thriving in that industry. “Drinking to forget is sort of my mantra,” she confesses, shaking her head as she chuckles.

[bonniebenntt-deactivated2020090]

I’m much more of a risk taker . I’m more fearless now than when I was 18 . I was much more self-aware and I cared too much about what people thought of me and now I really don’t . I probably should .