celia-baker

[celia-baker]

Celia Baker || 2025 New Years Ball

"of course it needs a reveal! it's an event, right?"

@aurorabayaesthetic

[celia-baker]

📸 + vince !

CELIA BAKER posted to her story

@vincentquinn

[celia-baker]

📸 - Celia

NEW INSTAGRAM STORY : ft. @celia-baker

[celia-baker]

who: @ghxstofyxu where: outside of oasis when: past midnight

the last week had been absolute hell. in fact, the last few months had felt like a direct punishment from the universe for something she was unsure she did but would give anything to undo it. celia had just broke down the costume shop from the nutcracker only to swing right back into christmas carol which had it's opening night this weekend. it felt like the work was never-ending. so, when she was finally able to lock up her office and close the doors of the charles levin behind her, she decided she deserved a bit of relaxing time. though, was going out and getting drunk really all that relaxing? probably not. but she wanted to have that kind of fun while she still could.

however, 'clubbing' wasn't hitting how it usually did. it was as if she couldn't shut off her brain from the constant work and the planning for next season she had to get done. she closed out her bar tab and quickly moved through the crowd of people and out the front doors. the mid-winter ocean air wrapped around her, her lack of jacket suddenly very noticeable. maybe it was time to slow down. no matter how much it would destroy her emotionally, maybe she had to admit defeat. no, I'm fine. I'll be fine.

her upper body slumped over the railing that separated the beach from the patio of the bar as she looked out towards the horizon. the moon broke through a few inky black clouds and created a mesmerizing glow in the water. the view took her back to being a teenager, off on tour, looking out from the balcony of whatever hotel the theater company had booked when she couldn't sleep, and enjoying the sight of the moon plus imagining where she would go from there. now her thoughts dreaded delving into the future. hell, there might not be that much future to imagine.

her thoughts were soon interrupted by a sudden sound behind her, brown hair whipping around as she turned to look at the culprit. she jumped when her eyes met a figure standing there. "jesus-fucking-christ!" she could have sworn she jumped ten feet the way her heart was racing. "you scared the shit out of me!"

[celia-baker]

another all-nighter meant another coffee intensely gripped under celia's fingers as they walked around the christmas market. brown eyes were weighed down by dark bags making their home on her face. but she persisted. she always did. "if you really can't think of anything, can't you do a gift card? go real generic?" she asked with a soft chuckle.

another long sip was taken from the paper cup (peppermint mocha this time. if she was going to be severely dependent on caffeine, she was at least going to switch it up over the days). "I...... actually have no fucking clue." her eyebrow rose inquisitively. "....just realized that I've been self-employed my entire working life."

closed for: @celia-baker

where: aurora bay market place

"I need to get a gift for my boss," Mack announces as they round on the first row of stalls looking to sell anyone anything under the guise of it being the 'ideal gift'. Some of them might have been, but he has no idea where to start with what would be the ideal gift for Aeris Flores, "How the fuck do you buy for bosses?"

[celia-baker]

END

Leaning his forearm on the bar, Julian didn't notice the closeness between himself and Celia. Not because he wasn't aware of her, but rather, he felt comfortable in her presence. Usually he was so worried about how people perceived him. The life of an actor meant that Julian was all too aware of others, but never in the ways that counted. After gathering a cocktail in each hand, he palmed one off to Celia with a small clink of their glasses in celebration. He smiled warmly at her, taking in her face under the flashing lights.

Finding their way into the crowded dancefloor, Julian was just about to whip out his best Freddie Mercury dance moves when Celia gave him a look. If Julian didn't know better, he'd think they were having a moment. Then her hand reached up to cup his jaw and it all happened so suddenly. It wasn't until their kiss had ended that Julian fully understood what had transpired but his brain couldn't quite comprehend what it all meant.

But by the time his brain caught up, Celia was gone.

Like a bat out of hell, she made a mad dash to the exit and with only a five second head start, Julian couldn't find her through the sea of people.

"Celia!" He called out, his voice lost amongst the roaring crowd and thumping bass.

The brisk October air ran through his hair and fake moustache as he reached the outside, but she was no where to be found.

( @celia-baker )

[celia-baker]

"no, I am not because I am convinced I said one bad thing to you on your birthday that mrs. miriam baker would materialize and would somehow ground me in my own home." though an obvious exaggeration, celia was still intimidated by the stare her mother would give when either of her children didn't use their manners. it was some form of kryptonite.

a smirk settled across her lips as cricket eyed the bag. "I appreciate the thought. it would be kind of hard to get anything back for it." her arms crossed over her chest, though the bag's handle still hung off of one of her fingers. "considering I'm the one I'd have to return it too."

the brunette adored making gifts and watching them open them was almost twice as fun. and she was pretty proud of her work this time: a simple, yet elegant black knit dress that had been lined in fabric with a particular motif on it.

"happy birthday, bitch."

"God, and now you're not even gonna have the decency to act like a total bitch to make me look better on my birthday? What kind of friend even are you? You seriously need to go."

Cricket's hand dropped from Celia's as she raised both her own in surrender, offering a little wave as if to send her off on her way right before the dangling gold bag catches her attention.

"But after I open that, obviously." Though she doesn't completely take the bait, managing to refrain, even if just barely, from reaching for the present. "I mean, I'd just, like, hate for you to have to go so far out of your way to return it...whatever it is..."

@celia-baker

[celia-baker]

"I'm not-" she began to protest, though his words steamrolled over any of her thoughts. he could read her like a book. working and going out were the only two things that made her feel human and not like some sentient, rotting lump just waiting around for their own demise. it was her only little red-waving flag signaling that she was still here. society only cared about what you could contribute in the end. and she wanted to matter. "stop that, I'll - I can pay, it's really not that big of a deal."

she shook her head at his tease, her own smile forming followed by a soft laugh. "but being stubborn is my thing. if I let you be the stubborn one, what one am I going to be?" her arms crossed across her chest, the cup still being white-knuckle gripped.

the midmorning sun rested high in the almost sickeningly blue sky for how temperamental the weather was. a part of her ached for the grey of new york winters. dark sage leaves dusted with silver snow. california had a tendency to feel too perfect, too plastic. like living in a postcard, forced smiles and all. celia looked up towards jett, offering a tight-lipped smile. "I know I'm not. and I really appreciate it." her focus soon moved back to the horizon line, right where the sky bled into the water. "just overwhelmed, but I'll figure it out." a pointed sigh ushered in her next words: "I always do."

the change to a lighter part of the subject was welcomed with another, more robust laugh. "literally texted you, but go off." she quipped, knowing full well by the time she texted him, the bars were closing. "next time, I'll send you a formal invite. wax seal and everything."

Jethro’s grin faltered slightly, softening as he looked at her. She was always trying to carry the weight herself, even when she didn’t need to, and he knew better than to call her out on it directly. He’d seen that determination in her eyes before—the kind that said she’d rather burn herself out completely than let anyone think she needed help. It was one of the things he admired most about her, even if it twisted something deep in his chest to see her like this.

"Look," he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing nearby. "You don’t have to keep proving anything to me, or to anyone else, for that matter. You’ve already done more than enough. If carrying the doughnut tab is my way of reminding you I’ve got your back, then just let me do it, okay?"

He tilted his head to catch her eyes, offering her that warm, grounding smile he always seemed to have on reserve just for her. "And, hey, I’m not saying I don’t want to see you try to win an arm-wrestling match. But maybe, just this once, let me be the stubborn one."

The wind picked up again, sending a shiver through him, but he barely noticed, too focused on the way she sipped her drink, staring out at the waves like they held answers to questions she wasn’t ready to ask yet. He leaned a little closer, their shoulders brushing, a quiet solidarity in the touch. "You’re not carrying this alone, you know. Not as long as I’m around." Jett then took a small sip of his coffee, a smirk covering his mouth. "But also, like, most importantly? Where the fuck was my invite?"

[celia-baker]

a soft laugh passed blushed lips and another flush of red peppered crossed her cheeks at his compliment. "not even." she knew she was good at her work; she put every last bit of her soul into every stitch and every ruffle. but accepting it (while sober) was another thing completely. her overtly critical eye tended to point out the millions of mistakes they somehow found once tech week started and there was always something to improve on in her head. "just someone who spends far too many hours ruining my posture and not seeing the light of day."

dark brown eyes flitted down to her cup when it was referenced, a soft nod following his observation. "oh, it would be much easier if I could just consume pure caffeine at this point but I'm pretty sure that's what sent those people that had the panera lemonade to the hospital. and that would just take away more time." he was right, her daily coffee(s) were the only thing that kept her upright lately. though, underneath the shell of caffeine was a body screaming at her to slow down. but she couldn't. she wouldn't. after all, there was a time limit on how long her body would work as well as it did now. time for rest would come.

"yeah, it's pretty insane right now between a christmas carol and the nutcracker happening within two weeks of each other. " her free hand reaching up and pushing back her hair that had made a home on her face. "but it'll be worth it to see the end product, you know?"

it was her turn to thumb through the recesses of her mind for the probable knowledge she had of his job. but it all came up empty. though, when he mentioned his position, a fuzzy memory came back and she could vaguely remember him mentioning it that first night. "oh yes, you did mention that. but come on, that's so cool!" she assured, following in step with him as the next customer left, the smell of coffee and holiday flavors wafting by as they exited. "you get to go out and explore for a living. I bet it's never boring, at least." she offered another sincere smile.

this was nice. it was easy. there was a sense of ease in their conversation she appreciated. working with business-centered creatives usually meant most conversations she had throughout the day were transactional, centered around the other person's prowess, or she was simply talked at. it was an occupational hazard of working a position in theatre that wasn't an actor or director. "I'm sure your pictures are lovely."

Stupid, he thinks to himself—there’s a nagging feeling that he should already know this information. He attempts to conceal his disappointment with himself though, his blue eyes studying her intently as she spoke. He couldn't help but feel an undeniable familiarity about her, something that went beyond the fact that they had danced around this same conversation before.

“So, I’m in the company of a big shot,” he says with a knowing smile, recognizing that her job is no small feat. Aurora Bay’s own little Broadway—that’s how he had referred to it during his time in town. “Makes sense why you’re cradling that cup like your life depends on it,” he says, a small laugh escaping his lips as his gaze flickers to the cup she was nursing. “It’s your busy season, after all,” he adds, raising an eyebrow before continuing, “With Christmas just around the corner, I’m sure that’s the only thing keeping you going, huh?”

He runs a hand over his buzzed hair as the conversation shifts back to him. “Uh,” he says, taking a moment to think, “honestly, nothing nearly as cool as yours.” He steps forward as the line continues to move. “I’m a photojournalist for the local paper,” he explains “I’m just a dork who runs around with a camera all day.” At least, that’s what his father thought. “But it’s cool in the sense that I get to roam around, you know?”

[celia-baker]

"baaaaabysitting." the sing-songy tone mixed with the drunken slurring gave away that her adamant pushing was simply a tease. if she was in her right head and had an ounce of good judgment in this moment, celia would have seen that if the roles were reversed, she would have been just as (if not even more) protective of him. "there is no need to be concerned." was what followed, however.

there was a bit of internal resentment over people fussing over her. ever since the diagnosis came, people had a tendency to infantilize her. she knew they meant well but it was exhausting to be treated like a child. and though she knew that was not what maverick was doing, the sting still hurt just the same. "I got this. I'm stronger than I look."

his kind words made her heart swell, and a mix of that and the heat of the bar flared her cheeks a bit red. "no, I do not put my bodily fluids into my work, thank you." laughs practically falling out of her mouth as she spoke. "but that's really sweet of you to say. it's....a lot but it's my a lot, if that makes any sense." red lips pursed around the straw of the drink she had been nursing, sneaking just one more sip and sticking her tongue out at maverick before an objection could be made. "but that's the same with you with all your film stuff, you know? you work so fucking hard. it's amazing." brown eyes found their way back to him and just took him in for a moment.

she couldn't even comprehend why she was giggling so much, but they kept coming. though she was able to anchor onto the fact he had suddenly dropped the cup, her own hands trying to grab it before it fell to the ground. "fuck, thought I could get that." her giggles finally started to subside, tuning back into his words.

"of course I do." her words were confident, though her thoughts were fuzzy. what did you just say? every corner of her mind was empty of what she might have asked or told. but it was best not to question it, right? the concerned look on his face made her worried that her words might have caused him some doubt about what she had been saying earlier about his work.

" I think you're absolutely wonderful. I thought you knew?"

Maverick simply smiles. Celia’s reassurance does so little to sway his thoughts that he’s very much so set in stone. “I’m sooo not babysitting. But I am justifiably concerned.” Creeps will be creeps, and it’s not a ‘knight in shining armor’ complex. He’d never been the sort to try and earn brownie points by being decent.

All Mav can think of is his little sister in moments like these. About how he hopes that if they ended up needing someone to watch after them like he is with Celia, they would.

“Yeah, sure. I mean it, too. You put all the blood, sweat and tears into your work. Not literally or anything, unless it is literally, then sure, but you get what I mean.” She leans into his space, and Maverick doesn’t mind so much. The close proximity is only a sliver of how physically close they’ve been before. It also assures him she’s not going to sink to the floor.

Then Celia is giggling, Maverick barely catches why when he reaches for the water cup the bartender brings by with his free hand, and he slides it in front of her. “What?” he asks, more in disbelief than anything. Even as he lifts the plastic up, it slips from his fingers and lands on top of the bar with a splash.

Mild panic ensues while Maverick grabs for bar napkins to dap the counter with, and he profusely apologizes to the bartender. It’s not long before he quickly turns his attention back to Celia. “Wait, do you know what you’re saying?” Just to be sure, Maverick doesn’t want to read too far into drunken words, nor does he want to be dismissive.

“Do you know what you just said?”

@celia-baker

[celia-baker]

her head rested lightly on his as he joined her against the wall of driftwood. in a way, jett would always remind her of home. though they grew up in wildly different situations (her family definitely comfortable but no where near the insane amount of money the carmichael's had), it was almost like they had lived their entire lives together when they met. he was someone who had dealt with her at her worst, held her hand through the tough stuff, and most importantly: just fucking stayed.

so many, once you become a medical burden, would find it so easy to drop you. to stop inviting you to things. to just forget you. all because you were now 'too much to deal with' or 'too much to plan around'. but when jett was in town, he always made sure she was included. that she felt like a bit of her old self again. but she still wanted to pretend. that's why she had found herself going out so often, right?

a roll of dark eyes followed his words, a soft yet obviously annoyed sigh trailing behind. "no...." another drink from her cup helped warm up her body as the californian ocean winter air whipped around them. "I do know how to slow it down. and I had already planned today to be my rest/work around the house day anyway." her knuckles connected with his arm as she playfully and very lightly punched him. "don't be such a square."

"fuck yeah, I do." a shudder went through her, half from the midmorning cold and half from the thought of the sheer amount of costumes there were in that show. she was pretty sure her place now looked as if christmas itself had exploded. celia gave a small smile at his offer. she knew she worried him: she would be the same way if the roles were reversed. a pang of guilt followed, yet her smile still staying firm on her lips. "sure. but I'll pay for the doughnuts we're also getting."

Jethro crossed his arms, leaning casually against the wall beside her, the faint scent of roasted coffee from Driftwood mixing with the salt air. His smirk lingered, but his eyes softened as he took her in—messy hair, coffee cup held like a lifeline, and a weariness that even her quick wit couldn’t mask. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her like this, burning the candle at both ends and somehow still managing to shine.

“Uh-huh,” he said, his voice laced with playful doubt. “Because I’ve never heard that one before. ‘I’m staying in tonight,’ she says, like it’s some sacred vow.” He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Let me guess—you’re already thinking about how you’re gonna reward yourself for finishing those pieces. Probably at a bar.” He nudged her lightly with his elbow, a subtle reminder of how well he knew her habits. “Fumes and coffee aren’t a diet, Celia. And neither is adrenaline. You’re gonna crash at the worst time if you don’t start taking it easy.”

Then, his smirk softened into something more sincere. “Look, I get it. You’ve got a lot on your plate, especially with the Nutcracker and everything. But… just promise me you’ll actually eat something decent today? Maybe even take a nap? Driftwood’s got those breakfast wraps you like. My treat.” @celia-baker

[celia-baker]

🔥 + celia 👀

“Woah, what’s there to not find attractive?

Have you seen what her mind can make?! It’s wild. You wouldn’t think much about what goes into costume design, and the effort that goes into putting said costumes together? And she catches every stitch and puts all the work into the tiniest of details.

She also has this really cute laugh, and her smile, and she's just really pretty, honestly. Ten outta ten, if I were following the rules here, but I'm going to have to say make it a one hundo out of ten, because she deserves it."

@celia-baker

[celia-baker]

🔥 - Jethro

"I mean, it's obviously his eyes. like they are gorgeous. 10/10. could get lost in them. have gotten lost in them."

@jethrocarmichael

[celia-baker]

🔥 + mack!

"gosh, it sounds so cliche but I'd have to say his personality. like, there's something so hot about someone who can just light up any conversation and is so naturally and magnetically charming."

"also his smile. his smile is wonderful. and very sexy."

@mackmontgomery

[celia-baker]

Dracula

Dracula: What is your muse’s opinion on the morbid and the macabre? Do they feel a fascination / connection to these things, or an aversion? Tell us why.

"I feel like I have a healthy appreciation for all things morbid and macabre. It's funny when you have a condition that's not exactly terminal, but rather degenerative. like, there's a part of me that wants to embrace death: memento mori and all that. but I also know if I focused on it too much, I don't know if I could ever pull myself out of it. so, I'd say we are friendly acquaintances if anything."

[celia-baker]

her own laugh mixed with his, a welcomed bit of levity from the unspoken yet tangible awkward vibe that followed this unexpected meeting. celia raised her free hand in feigned surrender. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." her laugh was still present in her words. "I'm an og new york-er. I think it's in the law that we must criticize any bagels not made on the island of manhattan. but I swear not to speak any more blasphemy if you don't turn me in for speaking ill of your wonderful hometown establishments."

watching the smile light up his face removed another sandbag of awkwardness off their created dynamic. maybe there was hope to be friends. after all, he seemed like a nice guy. easy to talk to (the thing that even started their initial interaction ( besides a healthy helping of liquor)). though the hand on her back was unexpected, so unexpected the only thing that could seemingly fall out of her mouth as she entered back into driftwood was: "thank you kindly." thankfully, the blush that came from being mortified rose to her cheeks and ears, then left as soon as it came on.

her lips parted from her cup after taking a quick drink, eyebrow arching in confusion over his question. "hm? oh, yeah." another pang of embarrassment washed over her at the fact her brain decided to lag like an overworked computer. though she was sure she had explained her job to him that night (drunk celia not being one for modesty), the less they both could remember, the better. "I'm the head of the costume department over at the charles levin theater." her fingernails tapped against the red paper cup. "and then I just do freelance costuming work from my own side costuming business. so I absolutely always have too much on my plate." dark doe eyes found their way back to him, a bit of relief running through her as the awkwardness seemed to be slowly melting away.

"and you?"

A chuckle escapes his lips at the mention of the bagels. He had come to the same conclusion when he and Fallon moved back to her hometown all those years ago. Placing a finger to his lips, he shushes the woman as if speaking to his own children. "You say that in front of someone who was born and raised here, and it could get you into some serious trouble," he jokes. While the townspeople took their mom-and-pop establishments seriously, it was never really that serious. Vincent wasn’t entirely sure he had heard the brunette woman correctly—or if he could truly believe that he had invited her to keep him company and that she had willingly accepted. Nevertheless, a genuine smile lit up his face at her agreement. "Yeah... okay, cool," he said as he casually stepped aside to make room for her to re-enter. "Alright, ladies first." His free hand swiftly finds the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Small talk, the bane of his existence—something he had once excelled at but could no longer tolerate. Yet here he was, trying to keep the conversation going. "You, uh, mentioned your job out there..." he said, pausing for a moment before continuing, "What do you do?" It was probably something he already knew, or at least should know given their brief history, but with the number of drinks consumed that night, who could say if anything had even been mentioned?

@celia-baker

[celia-baker]

the idea an entire drunken night could come flooding back with a single glimpse of a face would never cease to amaze celia. especially that night. she was certain neither of them wanted the ending of that night to ever be looked back on. but she had no problem with him. just the moment. the awkward way they parted, the way it made her feel -- though neither would dare to bring it up again, right? maybe this was a chance for a clean slate. that night could be pushed to the side and not the looming figure over any interaction they had.

broken and brittle fingernails ran through her dark locks as she listened, a soft yet sleepy smile resting on her lips. "yeah, the coffee is pretty damn good. can't say the same about the bagels though." a true new york bagel they were not. dark eyes met his as he spoke the next part. "uhm, yeah. had to get some caffeine after working all night." though only half true, it sounded better than what she actually had gotten up to.

that's where she expected to leave it, just a cordial bit of small talk; that night now not the only memory she had of him. but when he invited her in, she couldn't help but notice how much she just needed another person right now. hours locked away in the windowless costume shop of the charles levin had left her starved for attention (and partying with strangers just didn't cut it).

"sure." she offered as warm of a smile as she could without any hours of sleep fueling her. "love to."

It takes him a moment to recognize who is standing in front of him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to remember her; it’s just that the circumstances of their meeting are hard to face. He had nearly buried the memory, not wanting to revisit the new depths of embarrassment and chaos they had experienced that night, tucking the key so far away that he hoped he wouldn’t recall it again. But here she was, standing across from him, looking as tired as ever and offering him a greeting.

He gives a small wave along with a tight-lipped smile before quickly starting to fidget with the strap of his crossbody bag. He can’t help but wonder if this situation is awkward for both of them or just for him. "Yeah, of course, I can’t pass up the best coffee in town," he replies, nodding and offering her a shy smile. "I would invite you to join me, but it looks like you already have some," he says, gesturing toward the cup in her hand.

"You're still welcome to join, though," he says as he reaches for the door. "You know, if you want."

@celia-baker