philippexlinwood

[philippexlinwood]

[philippexlinwood]

adrian-jung:

“It’s not too early.” Adrian insisted abruptly. “I almost died less than a month ago, Philippe, did you forget? Someone set off a bomb and I was right near the epicenter of the blast and I almost died. So I’m a little late on it with our lifestyle if I’m being honest. And no, not exactly. I’m asking…look, I’m not too worried about Erin if I’m killed next time. She stands to inherit most of my estate on top of the trust fund she’ll have access to when she turns 25 so she’ll be able to take care of herself. But Maisie’s…Maisie’s only five. And, as it stands, I don’t have a clear plan for what might happen to her if I’m…not here anymore. So what I am asking is, or what I’m wanting to know is, are you willing to be included in a list of guardians for her? I won’t ask you to be the first choice, that’s too much pressure, even if I think you’re a better choice than either of my brothers. Second or third, though. Fourth would be Erin. I want her to be able to pursue her dreams still but worse comes to worse of course she’d step up and take the baby. Fifth would be the cousin I’m closest to who lives in Daegu, where my mother was from. Hopefully it doesn’t get to that point at least. Look, I know - I know it sounds crazy, and it’s sudden, but not really if you think about it.”

When Adrian launched into his defense about it not being ‘too early’, Philippe found himself shutting up, as he ran his tongue through his lips quickly, wetting them in a moment of anxiety. There was the existing fact that he was the reason why Adrian had almost died a month ago, why Erin and Maisie could have lost their father in a blink of an eye. It was he who endangered his bestfriend’s life, thus the secrecy about it. Truth be told, he much rather would bring the secret with him to his grave.

These thoughts and more bombarded him in the brief second, which almost made him miss Adrian’s question, had it not gotten his attention. “Me? As Maisie’s guardian?” The tone of hopeful disbelief in his voice could not be mistaken for anything else. In a way, he was thrilled, knowing fully well that his bestfriend trusted him that much to entrust his youngest’s care into him, no matter if it meant that he would perhaps only be second or third in line. “Adrian, I woud be honoured.” 

[philippexlinwood]

adrian-jung:

“I did. I’m afraid it doesn’t pertain to the gang, it’s rather personal, but think it was worth pulling you away for a few minutes.” Adrian slid a stapled pack of papers toward Philippe, with Will (Draft) written at the top. “I wanted to discuss some things with you? And ask for…maybe a really difficult favor that I hope you never have to follow through with.”

Curiously, Philippe made a reach for the papers, bringing it up to is eye level as he read the title on top. “Will? Is this your last will and testament?” Looking at Adrian, he sounded puzzled, mainly because it seemed like an issue that should not be attended to at this very moment, but rather, something that should be done in the next 10-20 years or so. “Too early for this, don’t you think?” He added, as he began flipping through the papers, scanning the pages for the keywords as he simply browsed through them. “Adrian, are you asking me to help you with your will or something?” 

[philippexlinwood]

Text || Philippe

Victoria: This my friend has been a long time coming. Just recent events pushed it over the edge. Doesn't matter much. Wasn't like I was on the look out for my prince charming or something like that.

Philippe: Your father cannot be serious. You'd be tying yourself down to someone who is bland. Tell me he at least worships the ground you walk on or adores you like a puppy?

[philippexlinwood]

catemckenna:

While Cate was certainly no damsel in distress (and in fact detested situations that implied that she was), she was no stranger to fabricating the illusion; after all, people with a natural proclivity toward chivalry didn’t need much encouragement to bring out the heroics. Of course, not all men found the prospect of acting the role of saviour appealing, but a quick judgement of the one beside her told the brunette that he probably did.

Turning away from the medical equipment, brown eyes found his and intentionally held his gaze, slightly bowled over by the sheer intensity but determined to stay her course all the same. And perhaps she was playing with fire—men like Philippe Linwood had always been an unfortunate chink in Cate’s armour—but on the other hand, she felt confident enough in the source of her motivation that she believed very little could sway her from her end goal. Not even looks like that. “Thank you,” she replied with a guileless smile, crossing her legs so that her body was turned toward him, the hem of her dress riding up ever so slightly from the movement. “I have to admit, I feel a lot more comfortable already.”

If there was one thing Philippe was quite adept at, it was reading a woman’s body language. He had been so accustomed and receptive to how a woman reacted, as he found it easier to identify as to whether or not he had a chance to get into their good graces. For the same gender, he found it a touch harder. For the opposite, however, he was well honed to. So to see the way she turned her body towards him, well, it spoke of some things. 

 “I’m glad you are.” With his charm ever turned on, the man found himself leaning it a little closer, pushing his luck all the more as he decided to go for it, despite the tactlessness of the situation and location they were in. He’d make it up to Ty even more later. “Say, if by any chance, you happen to be uncomfortable again a little while later,” he carefully began, before upping his charisma and confidence level by going all out, “how about I take you out to dinner?”

[philippexlinwood]

Text || Philippe

Victoria: Clint Benson, big time investment banker...big time bore.

Victoria: Fake boyfriend and soon to be fake husband.

Philippe: Oh. I do know him. I applaud your father's selection when it comes to financial, but personality-wise? The man has the personality of a bread. Is there no way out of this one? It's not worth it.

[philippexlinwood]

“No, I’m alright.” Philippe swallowed, composing himself. “Promise, I’m all good.” He further reassured the man, before straightening up in his seat to offer his full, undivided attention. “You needed to discuss something?” 

@philippexlinwood

“You look a little bugged out. I imagine that’s my fault, I probably shouldn’t have worded the text ‘have a few minutes? It’s kind of urgent.’ My bad.”

[philippexlinwood]

Text || Philippe

Victoria: ...considering I'm now in a relationship, with the worst human I have ever met, forced upon me by my father..I'm going to need a secret fuck now and then..

Philippe: Is it someone I know?

Philippe: Also no worries on the latter. I'm down for anything.

[philippexlinwood]

Text || Philippe

Victoria: Because we are officially friends, does that mean no more fucking?

Philippe: Oh wow. Um, well, I'm single. You're single. and I think we both enjoy it so I don't see how two consenting adults are not supposed to have a little fun, then?

Philippe: But that's my view on things. I don't know where you stand...

[philippexlinwood]

catemckenna:

At first, Cate found herself caught off guard by the gesture, the somewhat surprised look on her face a touch more genuine than she was strictly comfortable with. Of course, chivalry was a concept that she had been raised to expect from others and was therefore quite familiar with, but it was rare that she encountered it in her day-to-day life these days; having almost made it a point to always exude the kind of stubbornly independent attitude that said ‘thank you, nice gentleman with slightly archaic values, but I’m not your damsel in distress’. However, a quick cost/benefit analysis of the situation told her that this was neither the time nor the place to go off on such a tirade. “Thank you,” she replied with a smile, letting go of the door and stepping into the room.

She would probably never get used to the sight of hospital equipment surrounding her childhood friend, nor would she ever find a way to be comfortable with hospitals in general; but having something to focus on, a strategy to concoct. was making the experience infinitely less stressful to her. Taking a seat, Cate glanced toward her company with a warm expression, pulling up the nearest chair and gesturing for him to take it. “I’ll be honest with you,” she started, glancing somewhat warily at the beeping machines around the bed. “I might have slightly ulterior motives for wanting company in here. Hospitals make me… Uncomfortable.”

Following Cate inside the room, Philippe quietly shut the door behind them, wary so as to not wake their sleeping patient. Honestly, his motive for visiting Tyree may have been altered a wee bit, thanks to Cate’s added presence. It was hard to feel entirely sympathetic now that he had found quite a ‘target’ of sorts. This was the very reason why he usually came off as an ass towards people he could see through him, really.

A quick mutter of thanks, and he took the empty seat beside her, reveling in the nearness he got towards her. It was all sorts of wrong in his head, but right now, it did not matter. He might as well as have some fun. 

Turning to her, he let out a lightly amused chuckle at her confession, before pulling out that intense gaze he loved to sport whenever he was in the mood to charm and bewitch others. “Don’t worry.” He leaned in towards her side, just enough so she could feel and see his expression. “I’m right here with you.”

[philippexlinwood]

@princessmxrie

Waiting by his lonesome, Philippe glanced at his watch, taking note of the time as a waiter came by and dropped off his drink order: a glass of water and a glass of scotch, neat. Without a second thought, he had the liquor pressed on his lips, as he turned his attention to the empty seat across him, waiting for her to arrive. 

It had been two weeks since Philippe last saw Marie, the last time being the next three days after the Mayfair bombing. After that, he heard and saw nothing from her. He did not want to think that she had ghosted out on him yet again, but it was starting to seem that way. The reality was, nearly all the Royal ladies had dropped contact with him: Whitney had avoided his constant check-ups, Marie was nowhere to be seen, Harper was still mad at him, and Charlotte was far too busy returning to the swing of things to even be bothered. 

For the first time in a real long while, he was beginning to feel alone. The solitude would have been much welcomed in the past, but mixed with the current feeling of guilt that he had been carrying, it made for a dangerous combination. Slowly, he began sinking into his booze and nightly string of scantily-clad companions, all as he began his slow descent to spiraling out.

But tonight, tonight he sought to change that, at least, by finally contacting Marie and inviting her out to dinner with him. It was important that they be seen by the public at least (showing that the Royals were alright after their involvement at the Taylor Motors’ disastrous event), while simultaneously completing his task as the guardian figure. Two birds with one stone. 

Sat there he did, as he glanced at the menu, passing the time. 

[philippexlinwood]

Text || Philippe

Victoria: I have multiple questions. Would you like the serious one or the unimportant one first?

Philippe: Unimportant one first, please.

[philippexlinwood]

shonaxcoburn:

Maybe staring her boss in the eye was supposed to make her feel.. more. Anger or frustration or even sympathy. While she did not envy Philippe his position at the moment, being the one in their organization that everyone involved would most likely pin this on, and she knew that he couldn’t have possibly intended for this much damage to befall his own members, it was hard not to think that any blow back he got, he had earned. It had been his call, him calling the shots in Charlotte’s absence. Did she blame him for Tyree’s current perilious position? Not entirely.  The sister in her of course was angry on her brothers behalf. Angry that men she trusted and worked with had knowingly put him in harms way. But the strategist in her knew that there were margins for these kinds of attacks. You had to take certain risks to go unnoticed, to succeed. She did wonder though if her lack of involvement in this part of the plan was on account of what her counsel and her take would have been. She would never have championed such an idea.. 

“Well thats.. some good news at least.” she said quietly, counting off the names of people she could refrain from worrying about. It wasn’t hard to notice that his usual professionalism was currently shelved. Looking on as he clearly thought of what to say, aware that even the strongest of men would be weighed down by the weight of this night, she wasn’t entirely surprised at the admission that followed. Nor did she quite know wether to object to it or agree with it. “You lead, you take the fall and blame. Thats how the game works. I can’t imagine its easy living with that knowledge or lesson at the moment. At least your intentions weren’t for anyone to come to harm. I might not know the entire scope of that part of tonight, which I won’t lie, does leave me with some qualms and frustrations, but thats irrelevant right now. Whats done is done. I know you Philippe. You never meant for any of ours to get injured.” She spoke in a calm voice, conviction clear in each word uttered. Shona didn’t see the point in laying down blame or erupting into anger. Putting on a show, being dramatic.. It was not who she was. And it would not help either of them, would not change what had happened. 

Whilst Philippe greatly appreciated the change in her reaction compared to the others’, it still stung as she uttered the words, That’s how the game works, because they were the cruel, harsh truth. The gang wars was an elaborate game of chess, played with the highest stakes that there is: human lives. It all sounds silly, until people's lives are put at risk as a consequence of reckless actions and insufficiently-made decisions.

“Shona, I’m sorry.” The man choked, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry that your brother nearly died, because of my impulsive, selfish decision.” He began, his hands fidgeting with his fingers as he could not bring himself to look at the strategist in the eye. “I shouldn’t have authorised that mission. I shouldn’t have let them push through with something destructive and public. I shouldn’t have left it all up to fate.” His breathing began to quicken, as he struggled to breathe amidst the heavy feeling of guilt weighing down on him. “I’m sorry.”

[philippexlinwood]

When Whitney finally responded to one of his numerous dinner invites, Philippe sighed a breath of relief. For so long he had waited for when the youngest Royal would grace him with her presence, especially after their prolonged estrangement in the wake of the horrible Mayfair bombing. The man swore that she had been avoiding him due to unspoken issues, but he only hoped that she did was not, in fact, mad at him for endangering her life. Still, by the looks of it, it seemed to be the most obvious reason for her to avoid him with such lengths. 

After receiving her positive reply, Philippe wasted no time in running out to the nearest market and obtaining the best of the best meat, vegetables, fruits, and other grocery items for their dinner. If he needed to cook up a storm for her, he was more than willing to do so. 

With the steak having been just finished being seared and popped straight into the oven for further cooking, the mashed potatoes seasoned to perfection on the counter, the asparagus and carrots steaming healthily on the stove, the home-made whip cream chilling in the fridge, and the apple pie cooling down by the rack, the man was in a frenzy, simultaneously working out all the meals, all for her. Which was why he almost missed her arrival into his abode, had it not been for her voice that finally caught his attention. 

Eagerly, he dropped whatever he was doing, did one quick sweeping look over the food cooking,and proceeded to exit the kitchen in a haste. His enthusiasm, however, was extinguished upon seeing Whitney with a cast. “Whitney...”

We’ll dream again | Philippe&Whitney

The entire drive over, she sat silently in the back of the car, staring out the window. The colors of buildings, lights and road all blended together into one, seeming distant and unclear. In general that was how Whitney preferred life to look like at the moment. At first the pain kills had just been that, for pain. But then Jackie had offered her a few other choices, escapes, and for the first time in her life she had crossed a moral line she could not uncross. Then again weed was not the worst substance to abuse. In truth all she wanted was an impossible escape from this thing called life. Now being unable to use her hands to write, to create one fictional universe after another, the youngest Royal was slipping into unknown territory, not to mention a darker mind set that was utterly unfamiliar and uncharted. The deeper she went the harder it seemed to crawl back out. You only have yourself to blame. You chose this, you pushed them away, you let Luke stray, you let Ty risk his life for you.. Oh yes, a sea of reasons why she was in this mess. 

After canceling a couple of times, feigning exhaustion, pretending to forget, she had relented, agreed to come over to Philippe’s place for dinner. Chances were it was not going to be a stellar one, or so Whitney couldn’t help but think. All the shit that had gone down lately, the messes, piling up at everyone’s doorsteps. Not to mention that her mother for sure had let him know of her trip to the police station a few weeks ago. Maybe Phil would be on her side. That was always her initial hope and belief. As her driver opened the door and helped her into the wheel chair, pushing it into the building and elevator, she said nothing, stayed impassive. It was beginning to become a look she was growing good at. Once at the door, she courtly sent the driver away, ringing the bell twice before letting herself in, using her one cast free hand to wheel herself into the hallway. “Anyone home?” She called out, attempting to sound jokingly but already hearing that her voice fell flat. 

@philippexlinwood

[philippexlinwood]

victoria-saint:

Victoria grabbed the remote from her bedside table. TV, Movies, and all things of the sort were never really her thing. She never spent much time in front of a screen, mostly out of habit. When she was younger, she was not allowed to watch anything unless it was a special occasion. Old film classics were about all they had in the house, so those were her only options. Quickly Audrey Hepburn became her favorite. A woman of class, strength and beauty. “Roman Holiday?” A smile smile pulled at her lips as she looked over at Phillipe. It certainty wasn’t a favorite of her ex’s but hopefully Linwood would not mind the romantic movie as much. The movie began to play as she made herself comfortable. There was no surprise when her eyes started to flutter shut.

As he lounged around on her bed, Victoria got around to setting up the movie for them to enjoy. Honestly, watching a movie should be the last thing he should be doing in such a time of a crisis, but knowing Victoria, she would not let him leave without so much as a changed expression. He had come into her home looking like a train wreck, but for her sake, he could at least try to leave no longer looking like one. 

“Sounds good.” Feigning enthusiasm, he simply indulged the heiress, as he found himself in a better mood when she was. Because he had not seen the film before, Philippe focused his attention on the screen, keenly understanding the movie itself. Not more than twenty minutes later, he found himself less than thrilled with the plot, and was about to inquire about the film, only to turn to his sleeping movie companion. 

Smiling meekly to himself, the man got up from the bed, and, with extreme caution in his actions so as not to wake Victoria up, changed out of the borrowed clothes and back into his disaster-struck red suit and pants. His work day was far from done, and there was no way he was going to be strolling into the HQ in a hoodie and shorts. He would much rather stick to the evidence of tonight’s bombing. 

Before he could leave her room, however, he leaned over to a sleeping Victoria, and gave her the lightest kiss on the forehead. 

[philippexlinwood]

tyxcoburn:

Ty didn’t want his tears. He didn’t want this kindness–and from Philippe of all people. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that he would not receive this kindness had he saved anyone else. Maybe Philippe was guilty, but this behavior was for the wrong reasons and Ty would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him to an insane degree.

“Good. I’m glad she’s safe.” He couldn’t help the bitterness that laced his voice. He wasn’t a mean person, but he was filled with an anger for how unfair life always was to him and his sister. This time, however, it seemed as though life was being kind to him. It was all on Philippe, the entire bomb laying on his shoulders. Or that was how Ty saw it, at least. Because god, he couldn’t care less that the bomb had almost killed him. “You almost killed her. You almost killed the youngest daughter of Charles Royal. How the bloody hell do you think that would have gone down? Would you have been able to live with yourself if she died?” 

Ty couldn’t help the harsh undertone to his words, and even though he could feel his voice trying to give out beneath him he kept pushing himself. “You can’t pretend like you actually care about me. All you care about is yourself, and the Royal family. If I hadn’t saved Whitney you wouldn’t be here. I’m not idiotic. I don’t want your bloody apologies or favors, and I sure as hell don’t need you to cry over it.” It took every bit of energy in him to calm the fuck down. He felt  his body fight him as he tried to breathe, coughing a few times before closing his eyes and letting the machine breathe for him.

“I want out.” He spoke after awhile, his voice rough and weak as he opened his eyes slowly. “I don’t want to be a part of something that almost got my best friend killed.” Not to mention that he himself was still practically on the brink of death, but at that point in time all he could think about was Whitney and the fact that he could have been there too late. He wasn’t, but he could have been, and that scared him to no end. Because if there ever was a next time, he wasn’t so sure he could do it again and succeed.

Honestly, Philippe did not exactly know how Tyree would react. He’d be lying if he didn’t wish Ty would bear no ill feelings, but even that would be too much of a reach. Alas, reality won, and there was no holding back towards him. Tyree’s tone said it all, as it carried with it an edge of a sword, a sword which the teen was decisively keen on thrusting into him over and over again. It was the bitter truth he had been running away from: the fact that he nearly killed Whitney in the midst of the fiasco. 

For the longest time he had put the blame on Bailey, on Jeb, on whoever the hell failed to get all the Royals out of the Mayfair, when in fact, no part of the bombing would have been carried through had it not been for his mission order in the first place. Had Philippe not been too proud and vengeful to carry out an elaborate plan to one up the Strix in the midst of Charlotte’s absence, all in a vain attempt to prove himself as leader, then Whitney’s life wouldn’t have been in danger, and neither would have Tyree’s. 

As the 24 year old berated him, Philippe kept it all too himself, sobbing as he took the cruel fact in. There was no more denying the selfishness within him and his actions, his quest for greatness had finally put someone at risk, and it was time for him to recognise how dangerous and reckless he had been. This was no one’s fault but his own. 

Every fibre of his body could no longer bring himself to meet Tyree in the eyes, as he slowly averted his gaze to the floor, eyes heavy with tears still. He knew those blue orbs of the lad would only pierce through him, youth and all, and hurt him even more. It would be emotional torture of sorts, he was certain of it. “I understand.” He barely murmured audibly, as he struggled to grasp at any bit of power. 

“If you wish to leave, then I fully understand where you’re coming from.” His own voice cracked, mid-way, but Philippe powered through breaths. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Tyree.”

[philippexlinwood]

adrian-jung:

“But Philippe, I had such a great time being comatose and almost dying in a bomb, I think I may make this a weekly thing.” Adrian simpered, absentmindedly playing with Maisie’s hair as she snuggled against him. “I’ll try not to - I didn’t plan on it this time, so hopefully never again. You can’t get rid of me that easily; I’ve got you and this one to look after. The two of you would be a disaster without me.”

He gave Philippe’s hand a reassuring squeeze but didn’t let go just yet. He didn’t want to, the human contact was nice, and his hand was warm unlike his entire body. And there was something about having Philippe close that made him feel like everything would be all right soon; which was true, because if he knew is best friend at all, he’d do all he could to make sure of that.

“Even fake marry me, hm? I’m touched, in fact I might be tearing up a little like a little bitch.” Adrian gently mocked before his playful smirk sobered. “Me too. If I hadn’t…well. We don’t have to think about that now, thank god. For this one’s sake. Really, Philippe, I can never repay you for these past few days and the days to come until I’m discharged. I’ll buy you a drink when I’m out of here in a few days.”

Adrian’s expression shifted and his question was hesitant. “You weren’t hurt, were you? Show me where, I’ll look at it.”

A raised eyebrow and a far from enthused face met Adrian’s sarcastic comment. Even jokingly, Philippe would much rather not have his bestfriend on the brink of life and death. The thought of it alone made his knees weak. “Don’t ‘try’. Can you please just not?” If he ever sounded like a teenage girl, demanding and unrealistic, the man was unapologetic about it. He had no more further plans to keep visiting a dying Adrian in the near future. 

With a tight squeeze on Adrian’s hand, Philippe found himself gazing into his best mate’s eyes. They looked awfully weary, yes, but he could swear they had a touch of sparkle in them, the kind one gets when they’re surrounded by love. “I’d fake marry you any time of the day, Jung.” He answered wistfully, indulging Adrian’s wit, as he pressed his lips lightly on Adrian’s knuckles, akin to that of a prince kissing a princess’ hand.

“Look, it was nothing.” Letting go of their hand hold, Philippe, pulled back, as he was adamant on letting Adrian know that him caring for the girls were no big deal. “I promised you that I’d take care of the girls should something happen. You’re fine now, so it’s all alright.” Leaning comfortably back into the chair in his seat, he motioned to Maisie. “Besides, it was a pleasure to take care of your angels.” He added, giving the youngest a bright smile.

 “And please,” he could not stress it enough, as he waved off any sense of Adrian needing to get worked up over him getting hurt, “don’t worry about me. I’m fine. You’re the one who got hurt.”

Hospital