#which is not something you see every time a younger pop star trots out an old boomer idol

[britneyshakespeare]

me: you can't save me... Night Crawling by Miley Cyrus featuring Billy Idol: yes I can. I'm Night Crawling by Miley Cyrus featuring Billy Idol.

[gingerale2017]

𝟚| 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤

Two years later.

Kai didn't feel like doing anything today. He felt like covering his head with his pillow and going back to sleep. But today was December 21st and a Saturday, which meant that the Blackburns were coming over. Every Saturday of every week of every month, they come over to smooth out the relationship between Blackburn Industries and Commonwealth Products, which were run by Levana Blackburn and his very own father.

Groaning, he lifted himself off the nice and comfy bed; at the same time, his phone vibrated. He grabbed it and flinched when he saw who the message was from.

Selene Blackburn (20 sec ago)

You coming today? Or r u gonna skip? Tell me bc I don't feel like going today?

He stared at the phone stupidly and probably smiled a bit too. He had a crush ever since they met two years ago when she claimed to have survived the fire. Once she turned 18, she would take full control of the company as a legal adult.

Kai (sent 4 sec ago)

Yep, I have to, or your aunt will kill me.

Selene (read)

Selene (just now)

Aww, shucks, now I have to go.

Kai (just now)

Sorry :)

Selene (just now)

:(

Gtg, I have to get ready and wear a dress :(((

Kai (delivered just now)

Happy birthday 🎉

Well, Selene didn't see the last message, and she tends to forget that she has a phone from time to time. She's going to think that Kai doesn't remember her birthday. Of course, he remembers. She is turning 16 today, and Kai had a special cake made for her. It was made of chocolate covered with more chocolate and topped with chocolate. Selene loved chocolate.

A knock came from the bedroom door, "Mr. Pierce, the governor, would like to talk to you." Nainsi's sweet voice rang through the door, and Kai groaned some more. Ever since his father got sick, he had been asking to meet up with Kai even more. It was mostly depressing things, like 'Ever since you were a young boy...' and 'I hope that I get to see you become...' it got on Kai's nerves.

"Yep, I'm coming, "

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

"Mr. Pierce, the Blackburns have arrived." Nainsi pushed the glasses up her freckled nose. She had black hair with a few gray strands with a heart-shaped face, and dark brown eyes. She looked a lot younger than people would normally guess.

"Wheres Torin?" Kai looked around for his father's advisor.

"He couldn't make it, so I took his place." Nainsi was his father's secretary for as long as Kai could remember. She was close to his mother, and he considered her as his aunt. She was there for him when his mother died in that accident so many years ago.

"Okay. And my father?"

"Too sick again."

"So just me." She nodded.

"Great." Kai stepped outside of the large building he called home and greeted the Blackburns. The first one to step out of the car was Levana. The Blackburns we're famous for their power, which is that they could mind-controlling anyone to anything. It was kind of frightening. Levana opened her arms like she expected Kai to hug her. He stayed put.

"My dear Kaito, how lovely it is to see you again. How is your father?"

"Better, thank you." He looked behind her and tried to peek inside the car, but then Sybil and Aimery popped out.

"Ms. Mira, Mr. Park, nice to see you again."

"The pleasure is ours, Mr. Pierce." Then the girl he'd been waiting for claimed out of the car, wearing long black boots, as usual, and a long silky dress that almost reached her feet. And gloves, always gloves. She smirked at him, and Kai could feel himself grow red at the sight of her.

"Kaito"

"Selene." The two stared at each other until Nainsi cleared her throat and stepped in.

"Why don't we all go inside. We have a special dish prepared for today-"

"I wonder why," Levana said, cutting Nainsi off. Then she trotted past Kai gracefully, and her minions followed her. Kai met up with Selene and smiled at her.

"Hey," Kai said, and Selene looked at him.

"What's up, dork," she grinned and playfully punched him.

"Oh, not much, except my father keeps on acting like he's going to die and tells me depressing things daily."

"You said that last week!"

"Well, now you can see how my life will never change."

"M'kay."

Kai leaned in towards her ear, " Happy Birthday."

"Oh, my stars. I forgot, " she snorted and dug her head in Kai's shoulder, "I forgot my birthday!"

They both began to laugh uncontrollably until Nainsi gave them the death stare, and they tried to stop.

"Did you see that theory of Cinders and Captain Thorn might be dating?"

"Yeah, that's a load of bullshit. All the photos were photoshopped."

"How do you know?"

"They look fake in all of the pictures. And Cinders turned down the rumors herself." Selene looked convinced that when she said this and matched on through the halls. Kai caught up with her.

"Okay, but in real life, the Captain is always flirting with her. That could stand for something."

Seven rolled her eyes, "Since when does Kai Pierce believe in rumors. There are about a million of them circling you!"

"And a million more regarding anything to do with the heroes of New Beijing." Kai looked down at his best friend that he was secretly in love with. A piece of her hair fell out of her updo and into her face. Kai swiped it away, and Selene looked at him with wide brown eyes. Eyes that he fantasized looking at while he leaned in and pressed his lips on hers-

"Hey, are you okay?" Kai snapped out of his faze and blinked.

"Ye-yeah yeah, yes, I'm fine." She blushed and looked away.

"So, you want to steal some food from the kitchens?" Selene looked back at him, but almost as if she was hesitant.

"Absolutely."

Chapter 2. Hope you liked it <3.

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Tagging: @just2bubbly @salt-warrior @cerenoya @cindersassasin @cosmicnovaflare @rue-velleia (if you want to be added or remove, don’t be afraid to ask 💛)

[soudam-appreciation]

A Special Kind Of Lamp? (3)

TW:: this chapter contains depression and brief/vague mentions of s*icide. Stay safe loves!

. . .

Gundham knew he should get up. His mother had left hours ago for her job, and he felt hunger gnawing at his stomach. Heaving a sigh, he rolled his feet off the edge of his bed and let his body follow. He sat there for a moment, on the floor. The random assortment of objects that lay scattered across his room did not make his position any more comfortable. He contemplated sitting here all day doing nothing, or maybe cleaning up the mess that had been gathering for months, or perhaps even taking a shower (since gods know he could use one). Groaning, he decided against all of those things and stood, trudging out of his darkened cave without even putting on pants.

He glided down the stairs, kicking up a cloud of dust and animal fur with every sullen step. Like a ghost, he wandered through his household, barely registering the pristine condition of the place. Winding his way around the bright Victorian style living spaces, he reached his destination.

He rifled through the pantry, then the fridge, grabbing a single can of soda. Then, opening the freezer, he removed a bag of frozen tater tots and an entire tub of ice cream. Dropping them on the countertop quickly, and shaking the cold from his hands, he pushed the freezer shut with his sockless foot. Not bothering to get a plate, he pulled a spoon from a drawer somewhere and a towel from another and wrapped up the bag of frozen tots. Picking up his items, he began to leave. However, as he took a few steps, he caught a glimpse of a note on the countertop.

"Happy 21st birthday, love!" the note read. "I know you haven't felt right lately, but I thought maybe today you could go out around town! I've left some money for you, in case you want to go out and get anything!"

Gundham sighed. It was sweet of her, for certain, but he didn't know if it was alright to take her money. He certainly had enough of his own, for the time being. But then, on the other hand, was it now expected of him? Was he supposed to go out and about because his mother had both suggested and paid for it?

Lifting his frozen items, he tromped into the main living room and sat on their plush rose sofa. He opened the bag of tots, popping one into his mouth as he contemplated.

He must have spent around 20 minutes munching the solid, ice-cold chunks of potato before halfheartedly making up his mind. Standing, he briefly wondered if that meant his mind was, in fact, not made up, but he brushed that aside and wandered back to the kitchen. When the leftover frozen goods were replaced in the freezer, he scooped the money and note from the counter. Now that life down here was back to the norm, he retraced his earlier steps and returned to his room.

He switched on the light, wincing at how utterly disgusting everything looked when one could see it. The room was quickly returned to darkness.

Snatching a pair of jeans and a ratty band tee from his closet, he changed quickly and tugged on his boots. He didn't want to bother with a shower, he knew he'd lose all energy far too soon. Cold, stiff fingers ran through his greasy, tangled hair, and he considered a hairbrush. No, too much. He had to get outside, spend whatever money he had been given, and return. No need to look nice.

Shoving his arms into a dark jacket that smelled slightly of mildew and was probably a size or two too small, he trotted back down the grand staircase. He grabbed his (majorly unused) car keys from a dish by the door, checked to make certain his phone and the money were both stuffed into his pockets, and opened the door.

The light shining in his face almost made him shriek, but he caught himself and threw his arm before his eyes instead. A sudden and steady hiss pushed from his lungs, and it took far too long for him to snap out of his haze.

When he lowered his shield, he glanced at the too-bright world and rows of houses. He also caught the eye of a small group of children that had probably been playing in the street, before they noticed him. He took a moment longer to understand why he must seem so strange, and why the children were likely staring. To test his suspicion, he bared his teeth and hissed once more, this time at the kids. They scattered, screaming.

Of course, how were they to know he wasn't a vampire?

Already feeling far too strange after this interaction, he stepped fully outside. The warmth of the sun washed over him, and the soft scent of flowers drifted in the breeze. He took a long, deep breath, and closed the door behind him.

He hadn't driven in so long he wasn't sure he remembered how. After a few failed attempts at reversing, thankfully none of which ending in property damage, he finally got out of the garage. Gundham was on the road again.

For the first several minutes, Gundham's average car speed was around 10 mph. He wasn't sure he could keep the car in control if h went much faster, and he had forgotten his wallet and ID at home.

After he had been out and about for about half an hour, the sun was becoming more bearable and he could finally get nearer to the speed limit. He pulled into a parking lot at the local superstore, ending this extra-long car trip with the world's worst parking job. Whispering an apology to whoever may need to park near to him, he locked the vehicle and wove his way into the store.

Entering the building felt like an enormous undertaking. He had to get in, exhaust as much of the money as he could, and get out. Unfortunately, this also meant he had to force himself through aisle after aisle of bright lights and items he had no need for.

He spent twenty minutes simply looking for things to buy, eventually encountering the pet section. Looking only briefly, a deep unease and upset coiled in his chest. His hamsters were the only part of him that he had taken above excellent care of, and even then they had not lived past a few years. He hadn't managed to breed them at that time, and the absence of his always-present companions dampened his spirits considerably.

He pushed on, reminding himself that this was not about his Devas. This was about buying what he could and going home.

Scooping up some shampoo, he wormed through personal care and clothing aisles, ignoring nearly everything on the shelves. He made a beeline for the electronics aisle, certain he could pick something up for a fairly high amount. Unfortunately, he wasn't precisely sure where that was and got turned around quite quickly.

Somehow, he ended up in a deserted and dusty section of the store. The rows of shelves seemed nearly empty, despite being stocked full. The graphics on the packages were mostly faded as if they were quite old compared to the other items in the building. Glancing around for a hint of where he had found himself, a sign hanging above the aisles caught Gundham's eye. Upon it was printed, Old and Discontinued Stock.

Intrigued, he continued through the packed shelves, passing rows of what seemed to be ancient exercise equipment. Rows and rows of items advertising their 'as seen on TV' status in bold red (or rather, pink) spiked bubbles filled his line of sight, and remembering stupid infomercials from his slightly younger years almost made him smile out of sheer annoyance.

As he turned a corner, a slightly different item brought his attention. In large, curly letters, the banner across the front of the box crossed an image of a fairly nondescript lamp, sporting the words LoveLight™. He approached, sliding one box off of the shelf. Turning it around, he hoped to read what exactly it was supposed to do on the back of the box. Fortunately for him, that is exactly where such a description was found.

It seemed to claim something about... connecting soulmates? He wasn't sure how well it could work, but he thought he might as well buy it anyways. It was right about the amount he needed to max out the gift from his mother and return home. He didn't care much about what color the lampshade was, so he carried to the checkout the box he was already holding.

. . .

Tromping up the stairs, he dumped the bag of lamp onto his overcrowded desk. He groaned as a few stray papers slid to the floor. They gathered around the edge, adding to the steep piles of clothes and garbage that littered the area. 

He threw himself onto his bed, wrapping his favorite comforter around himself. Today had been longer than expected, and he was exhausted from his excursion, even if it was only an hour and a half. Pulling out his phone, he opened YouTube and began the first video in his feed. He didn't even try to focus as his eyes drifted shut, and sleep overtook him.

. . .

When he stirred, it was long past dark. He groaned, twisting his body sluggishly to be freed from his cocoon-like prison of the blanket. Propping himself up on his elbows, he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. When this attempt was unsuccessful, Gundham rolled back over and tried to return to sleep. 

Unfortunately, his blankets were still too tight, and he was made painfully aware of two things. The first was how hot it was; the second was how badly he needed to pee. 

He squirmed yet more, struggling to free his arms. When he had at last accomplished this, he slowly peeled the comforter away layer by layer, until he was sitting fully clothed, shoes and all, on his bed. He tugged off his boots, exhaustion numbing his fingers, and slowly began to make his way to the bathroom. 

. . .

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he yawned and looked for something to do. The night was often when he was "productive", but tonight he still felt ready to collapse in on himself, like a dying star. What a worthless waste of space he was. 

Tonight was certainly not the first night he felt ready to give up. This was, in fact, a near-daily occurrence. However, he knew that his mother would be left alone and that he, too, was far too afraid of what lay beyond, so he instead searched for an occupation for his hands.

He settled upon the plastic bag that contained the boxed “soulmate lamp”. Lifting it, he noted that it felt a bit heavier than before, but attributed this to his cold and tired limbs. Once the box was freed from its thin plastic containment, he searched for an opening.

He examined it, locating the circular sticker that secured the cardboard. Picking at the edges with his overgrown nails, he managed to peel up the side (with great difficulty). The packaging from there was not too difficult to decipher, though it still caused mild annoyance.

Only when the lamp sat undisturbed atop his bedside table did he begin to feel the stirrings of excitement. Before, it had merely been a vessel for assuaging boredom and returning home as quickly as possible, but now it seemed to radiate a faint... hope.

He plugged it in, wincing as the bright light flicked on. Snatching the instructions from their perch beside the lamp, Gundham wrestled with the folded paper to find the directions to dimming the damned thing.

Said directions were fairly simple to find, so when he had saved his eyes from the caustic sheen, he began the calibration process.

The process was long and bothersome, it seemed. First was simple, imputing the kinds of personal information every internet-connected device needs. Each answer was written against the shade with the "specialized" pen, and submission was accompanied by a pleasant blip sound. Then came the long series of questions that needed answering, a process by which the lamp was to determine one's soulmate. This step took the greatest time of the setup, costing him nearly an hour total. If he had had anything else to do, he simply would have given up.

Finally, however, the setup was complete, and he was alerted to this by another small electronic noise. Gundham tossed aside the instructions, groaning audibly as a loading circlet began rotating against the shade. He replaced the pen in its slot at the lamp's base and leaned back against his plush comforter. The loading process took several minutes, as it ran through the extensive database of other questionnaires (or so he assumed, this was never stated in the instructions). It took quite a few minutes, long enough for him to begin to drift off to sleep.

He was awakened by yet another blip sound, this one likely stating that the final stage was complete! He bolted upright, watching the shade warily for any signs of writing.

And then, something appeared.

A hasty message scrawled in sloppy and nearly unintelligible print. It seemed rushed, letters running together on the mesh shade.

"Hi! I just got this thing and I'm super excited to talk to you!!!"

It worked.

He blinked, quietly astonished, amazed that such a device could do much of anything at all. As he sat in the dark, bewildered, another message began to appear.

"I can't wait til you get these. I'm so excited to talk to you!!"

He shook his head, strands of grimy dual-colored hair falling out of place. His chest felt tight, the sensation of someone other than his mother even speaking to him so foreign. Even if the messages did sound as if they were written by a child.

"Hey again! I hope your getting these!"

Fists tightened against wrinkled sheets. Gundham felt his stomach churn, yearning for another message.

"Today was fun! I got to hang at the Skate park! What did you do today?"

Tears pricked at his eyes, the sweetness and innocence in each message rushing over him.

"I don't have many friends. I think when we get to meet we'll be real good friends! Right?"

A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed hard.

"Good morning! I hope you respond soon!"

One single tear dropped from his face, hitting his exposed skin.

"Hey, just seein if youre ok! I had a weird day today :("

They kept coming, messages appearing faster and faster. Was it a backlog? Were these old messages? Gundham wasn't sure.

"Guess what today is? It's my birthday! I'm 14!! How old are you?"

The tears kept coming too, streams of salty liquid flowing freely across his cheeks. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried.

"I wonder what kinds a things you like?"

Messages appeared faster and faster, quickly filling available space across the lampshade.

"I hope ya feel alright today! I still can't wait to talk to you. :)"

Gundham's vision blurred, too much to see the individual messages. Hundreds of letters blurred to nothing but glowing gold clouds, soft light filling, and obscuring, his vision.

The years of isolation began to crumble. He had tried so hard to harden his heart, to erase this feeling of crushing loneliness, and the facade he had so tirelessly built with shaking and scarred hands had started cracking from the pain. He hadn't understood how much he craved this, how desperately he had needed someone to talk to. For someone to ask if he was ok.

His body shook with sobs, ribs splintering under the pressure of the world as golden light flooded his room. Messages poured in, the light now nothing less than a glowing orb in his eyes, but he couldn't look away. He watched as more and more scribbled notes filled his mind, the emptiness usually stored in his chest now replaced with intense hurt. Love was what he needed, friends and company and care were the things he desired so desperately, the things he had never allowed himself to want.

The light began to fade, the most recent messages having used their allotted minutes. He sniffed, scrubbing tears from his eyes with harsh hands, and squinted at the lamp. Choking, he continued to press against his eyes. Perhaps if he tried, he could stop the next wave.

He caught another flicker of light, quickly leaning back toward the device to read whatever was there. Then he watched as, in real time, more words scrawled across the shade.

"Just wanted to say I still love you."

His last chance at holding back was ruined, and again he began to weep. Pushing away just enough to reach for the pen, he grabbed it with shaking fingers and raised it to the shade. Slowly, he pressed the tip against the mesh fabric and began to write.

"I'm so sorry."

[rohad93]

Authority Online: ch 7

"I don't know…"

"Oh, come on, Celeste. She'd be perfect for the job." Rose insisted.

It was about 11:30 on Monday morning and since there was no school for some holiday or another Celeste couldn't remember, Rose and Steven had parked themselves in the bakery kitchen while she worked for the day.

Out of the two of them, it was the one that was expected to be in the way the least that was the most in the way.

Rose had plopped herself on an empty counter, talking about this and that while Steven sat in the corner at his spot, coloring quietly. 

She'd mentioned that she was going to start looking for a second assistant after talking it over with Sky who had agreed to oversee the new trainee when she couldn't.

Rose had immediately suggested a friend who was also a teacher and had been looking for some part-time weekend and evening work.

"She's a bona fide type A personality… honestly, she probably has OCD I think, either way, she'd be perfect for this," she insisted.

Celeste hummed noncommittally as she mixed together a batch of ingredients.

"At least talk to her. I really think she is what you're looking for." Rose wheedled.

"Fine, fine. If you give me her number I will call her," she finally acquiesced. 

Rose grinned and typed out the number on her phone and sent it to her sister who felt the device vibrate in her pocket and rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Sometimes it was just easier to give in to the exuberant younger woman’s whims than to fight it.

‘So…” Rose started, resting her chin in her palms and looking slyly over to her, and Celeste had a good idea of what was coming. “have you heard from your new girlfriend yet?” She grinned at the annoyed look on her older sister’s face, but especially at the faint pink color, her ears were turning.  

“I’m not sure I’d call her my ‘girlfriend’ just yet...” Celeste mumbled, starring much too intently into the bowl of batter she was mixing.”... and no, not yet.”

Rose hummed and kicked her feet back and forth.

“Maybe you should text her? Whose job is it to call first in a lesbian relationship?” She cocked her head curiously.

“Rose…” Celeste rolled her eyes. 

“What? I don’t know. Is there a guide to this?” she asked with a laugh.

“There’s a class. It’s extracurricular in college and if you fail you don’t get your lesbian license.” Celeste quipped as she moved to pour the batter into the prepared cake pans.

Rose stuck her tongue out at her back. 

“What exactly does that license qualify you to operate? A motorboat? 

"Oh my god!” Celeste turned to her, face a bright pink as Rose giggled uncontrollably. It took a good  three minutes for her to stop looking at Celeste’s flushed face and not start all over again. Celeste turned and ignored the giggling school teacher until she had finished. 

“Heh, anyway, why don’t you text her? I thought you liked her?” 

“I do like her, but I also don’t want to come off overeager or something.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with letting someone you like know you like them and want to see them.” Rose’s voice turned more serious. Steven took the opportunity to trot over with a drawing.

“Look!” He held up the picture and smiled that gapped tooth smile. Showing them a stick figure with a mullet and guitar. “It’s dad.”

“That’s lovely, sweetie.” When he gets home this weekend you’ll have to show him.” She smiled, pinching his cheek and making him giggle. 

“This job lasts all week?” She asked, surprised. Rose nodded.

“He hates to be gone so long, but it pays well.” She frowned with a shrug. 

“He’ll be home before you know it.” Celeste smiled reassuringly at her sister who nodded.

It was then that Sky popped her head into the back.

“There’s a delivery in the lobby,” was all she said before disappearing back out front. 

“I don’t have any deliveries scheduled for today.” Celeste frowned, forehead wrinkling in confusion as she wiped her hands on her apron and walked out front.

Rose followed her out and gasped.

Sitting on the countertop was a black vase of bright white lilies with pale blue centers.

“I think Greg sent you some flowers.” Celeste smiled as Rose moved forward to inspect the flowers. 

“Oh wow, blue heart Lilly’s.” She leaned forward to smell them and pulled out the little card nestled between the petals. “Weird though, he usually sends me roses… he’s clever like that.” She joked, looking over her shoulder at Celeste and Sky who only giggled before looking down at the card and her eyebrows shot up before she turned to her sister with a devious grin.

“These are for you.” She held out the little card and Sky grinned along with the teacher.

“What?” It was Celeste’s turn to look surprised, face turning colors again. She walked up to the counter and took the little paper card.

Celeste,

Have a good week. 

~Jaune 

“Well…,” Rose was grinning at her. “...not the most romantic sentiment, but at least she knows how to let someone know she likes them.” Rose laughed.

Celeste reached out and ran her fingers over the delicate petals. They were beautiful and she couldn’t stop the smile that was pulling at her lips even if she wanted to. 

~ ~ ~

Jaune sat at her desk, hunched over her laptop, clicking through a long list of emails, determining at a glance which were garbage and which were actually important. 

So far her inbox was filled with garbage.

Clients constantly asking for updates on their cases.

Once a week? Fine, doable.

Every. Damn. Day?

No. 

Anyone she talked to Friday went into the garbage today. This usually freed up her inbox for actually important emails. 

Today however it seemed, would be a slow day. Once the garbage was gone there was nothing left of importance for her to look at. 

There were no updates on any of her cases and no clients to meet with for once. 

It seemed that she found herself in possession in one of her rare days where there was nothing pressing to do. 

Normally she would have been elated by the brief break, today however she was chomping at the bit for something to do.

She had ordered those flowers first thing this morning and afterward doubted whether or not she should have done it. She certainly didn’t want to come on too strong but she also wanted to make her interest clear. 

She glanced at her watch. Fifteen till twelve. They would have been delivered by now and she tapped her foot agitatedly.

For all the times for there to be no work to bury herself in, of course, it would be now when she needed it most.

She still needed to talk to her mother about the little stunt she had pulled Saturday, but she just could not get up enough energy for that fight right now and had been in far too good a mood when she had gotten back home after dinner. 

She supposed she could get a head start on some things she would need tomorrow.

Five minutes into writing up some papers for a meeting she had tomorrow her phone buzzed and she reached for it distractedly, only glancing at the screen before doing a quick double take. 

It was a text from Celeste.

Jaune would never admit that she felt nervous as she opened the message.

“Do you like turkey sandwiches?”

Jaune stared long and hard at the text, blinking.

~ ~ ~

When she pulled up in front of the bakery the sign was flipped to closed and no one was inside, but the door opened when she pulled on the handle, making the bells jingle.

Celeste’s head popped around the doorway to the kitchen and she smiled brightly at the sight of the lawyer, whose stomach flipped at the beautiful smile aimed at her. 

“Hey…” She walked around the corner, wearing a dark blue apron covered in splotches of flour and a variety of batters, her hair pulled up into a bun and Jaune couldn’t help but admire her beauty. 

Saturday night she had been undeniably breathtaking, but there was something genuine in the way she looked now that was equally attractive to the lawyer. 

“Hey…” She cleared her throat when she realized she had been staring and the knowing little smile that had moved onto Celetes face said she had indeed noticed.

“Come on back.” She nodded and went back into the kitchen with Jaune following.

The bakeries kitchen smelled of various baking goods and it made the lawyer’s stomach growl. 

Loudly enough that she heard Celeste’s stifled giggle and flushed. 

“Have a seat.” She gestured to the stools placed around the butcher block table in the corner where only twenty minutes ago her nephew had been coloring before Rose had swept him upstairs with her, giving her a knowing look, as had Sky when she sent her on her lunch break. 

“Are you certain you weren’t busy?” she asked, going over to another counter and picked up two plates. 

“My office was positively dead for once.” Jaune assured her as she slid off the black sports coat and sat, laying it in her lap, leaving her in the white button down. “Also, my PA has instructions to call me if anything that really requires my attention comes up.”

Which was true, but Jaune didn’t mention that she had turned her phone off the  moment she’d gotten in her car, having no intention of taking any calls or texts.

A plate was set in front of her and the turkey sandwich on a croissant looked picture perfect and her hunger returned full force. 

“Thank you.” She smiled appreciatively at Celeste as she sat down across from her with her own plate. 

“I should be thanking you. The flowers are beautiful, you shouldn’t have.” She was giving the blond a warm look that immediately made her stomach twist.

Yes, the flowers had definitely been a good idea. 

“It was nothing.” She ran a hand through her short blonde locks. Something Celeste had quickly picked up on as being a nervous habit it seemed and her smile widened. For all Jaune’s serious stociness, she was incredibly easy to fluster.

Something she found endlessly endearing.

“I appreciate it nonetheless, so thank you.” She was smiling at the blonde from beneath her lashes and Jaune felt like her tongue was too swollen to talk at the look.

“You’re welcome…” She managed before Celeste, mercifully, moved those bright cobalt eyes off of her, turning them to the food. She breathed a sigh of relief and picked up her own food.

She wasn’t sure if it was her infatuation with the baker or was this really the best sandwich she’d ever had? Just the fact that the croissant was still warm told her that the woman across from her had baked these.

They chatted quietly in the nearly otherwise silent kitchen, occasionally an oven timer went off and Celeste would hurry over to check on whatever was making all the wonderful aromas in the air.

"It seems you might be the one who's busy.” She commented.

“Oh, no.” Celeste assured her with a wave. “This is just, everyday.” She shrugged and sat back down, picking up her sandwich.  

She was nearly finished tearing through the food when she heard the small giggle and looked up to see Celeste looking at her with a little grin.

“What?” She blinked.

“You have mustard on your face,” she chuckled, pointing at the corner of her own mouth. “Let me get you a napkin.” She walked over to the counter and suddenly there was a commotion in the stairwell of crying and thundering steps. 

Suddenly Steven appeared, crying at the top of his lungs…

And completely naked and splattered with mud. 

The six year old tore through the kitchen as Rose hit the bottom of the staircase.

“Steven! You are getting a bath!” she yelled, chasing the boy and suddenly seeing her sister and the lawyer, flushed brightly. 

“I’m sorry, pretend we’re not here!” she yelled as she chased her son out into the store front, his screaming echoing through the building.

“I don’t want a bath!” 

“Well, that might be difficult…” Jaune mumbled, watching the spectacle with wide eyes.

Only a few seconds later the boy was back with his mother hot on his heels.

Celeste jumped in, trying to cut him off but at seeing her, he ducked under a table as he weaved around the kitchen equipment, still crying and screeching as he eluded his mother and aunt. 

After a full minute of this he turned sharply, running along her side of the kitchen. Just as he ran past the table Jaune whipped the blazer off her knees and snatched the boy up in it, cocooning him in her arms as he flailed and wailed.

“Thank you…” Rose huffed, trying to get her breath back as she walked up to them and wrangled the boy out of the suit jacket.

He continued to cry even as she took a tight hold on him and quickly sent Celeste an apologetic look before hurrying back upstairs with her tearful son. 

Jaune inspected the garment and frowned.

The once pristine white lining was now spotted with mud and dirt. As well as a yellow smudge of mustard on the outside, having been wiped off her face when the boy was thrashing around.

Unfortunately, Celeste also saw the state of the coat.

“I'm so sorry, Jaune. Please, let me have it cleaned.” She offered, stepping forward and looking almost pained.  

An expression that Jaune couldn’t stand on the woman's face.

“Don’t be sorry. I spilled coffee on the sleeve this morning and intended to have it dry cleaned regardless.” She tried to reassure the distraught looking baker but she continued to frown, hands clasped together at her waist. Reaching out she laid a gentle hand on the two clasped ones. “Really, it's fine, Celeste.” 

She still didn’t look happy but she nodded.

“If you’re sure…,” she trailed off.

“I am.” She nodded.   

When they finished eating she turned her phone back on to see several missed calls and a few emails. She needed to get back to the office.

Celeste walked her out to the front, her ruined suit jacket hanging in the crook of her arm, she laid it in the back seat of her car and closed the door, before rolling up her sleeves.

Might as well make her new look appear intentional. 

She turned back to see Celeste, biting her bottom lip and although the sight did something wholly inappropriate to her she knew the face wasn’t a good thing just by the look of her eyes. She was still fretting over the coat. 

“Are you busy this weekend?” she asked, stepping away from the car and closer to Celeste, who looked up at her with those seemingly bottomless pools of blue. 

With Celeste in flats and Jaune in her heels, their already noticeable height difference was blown to even greater disproportions.

“I’m not. Did you have something in mind?” 

“Not yet… but I was hoping to see you anyway,” she said and the smile that appeared on the bakers face, along with the tinge of a blush on her cheeks was enough to dispel any lingering doubts she might have had about Celeste’s own feelings toward her.

“Well, when you figure it out, I can be free anytime after 4pm on Saturday,” the flirtatious tone made Jaune grin even as it made her knees weak.

“I’ll text you.” She stepped off the curb to walk around to the drivers side door when the shop's front door opened, the bells jingling.

“Hold up one second, please.” Rose stepped out with a clean and clothed Steven in her arms. She walked over to the car and set him down on the edge of the curb at the lawyers feet. “Steven has something to say.” She looked up at the blonde, with her own apologetic face.

Even standing off the curb, in her heels she towered over the boy who was frowning mightily with his head ducked. 

He looked back at his mother, who gave him a very stern look, hands on her hips. He turned back around to look up at the blonde with his downcast face.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt dirty, miss tall lady.” He mumbled, looking up at her from beneath his mop of curly black hair, truly contrite. 

It was all the sisters could do not to crack up at that. Rose hit her lip and Celeste slapped a hand over her mouth.  

Jaune kept a remarkably straight face though.

“It’s alright, no harm done this time.” She patted the boys head before lifting a hand in goodbye to the two women and climbing in her car and driving off.

Once she was gone Rose shooed her son inside and turned around to face her sister.

“I. Am. So. Sorry!” She grimaced. “Would she let me pay to have it cleaned?” the teacher asked. “I feel awful. We ruined your lunch date...and part of her suit, her very expensive looking suit!” she fretted. 

“It’s alright, Rose. She wasn’t upset...,well, by the look on her face, she wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t upset and I offered but she wouldn’t let me have it cleaned either. You didn’t ruin anything either. Actually, we're going out again sometime this weekend.” She smiled as they moved back inside the bakery.

“I’m glad” She let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t ended her sister’s relationship before it ever really got started. “I guess she really likes you.” Rose smirked at the far off look on her sister’s face. 

“I really like her too.” She smiled, flipping the open sign on the front door.

[hazkiwislutt]

photograph: in happiness (part 2)

Two months after Harry had found Y/N unconscious in her bathroom, he asked her to be his girlfriend. He hadn’t meant to... Well, he did, but not in the way he did. He meant for it to be a bit more meaningful (though she swore up and down that it couldn’t have been more perfect), but she just looked so incredibly beautiful and his hammering heart was louder than the voices of reason in his head. 

They had been in Y/N’s hometown, visiting her family for one of her younger sister’s birthdays. Y/N so desperately wanted Harry to come along so that her family could meet “the stylish pop star who probably had enough money to buy my hometown five times over, but still insists on stealing my Dollar Tree snacks.” 

Harry was ecstatic, and when Y/N had extended the invitation, he leapt at it embarrassingly quick, yelping “yes” before Y/N had even finished talking. She had teased him, poking his dimple and tutting, “I can take home a peddler, but I don’t know about taking home someone so desperate.” He’d pouted at her, and she’d quickly assuaged him, leaning in to press what Harry had thought would be a sweet kiss on the cheek, but instead licking the entirety of the right side of his face. She pulled back, laughing her endearingly obnoxious dolphin-and-duck laugh before leaping off her couch as Harry attempted to grab her arm and tug her back down next to him. 

That was two weeks ago, and now Harry and Y/N were trekking through a grassland down a random path near her parents house. They had excused themselves from the party, and Y/N had dragged Harry toward her parents’ backyard, insisting that he helped her climb the fence because “I’m not as limber as I used to be”. He rolled his eyes at that comment, since Y/N was two years younger than him, but helped her up nonetheless. He climbed up after her, sprinting to catch up to her brisk pace as soon as he touched the ground on the other side of the fence. 

“Where are w’going, Bambi?” Harry was huffing and puffing, wincing against the chilly night air that was cold enough to signal the still-prominent traces of winter, but held a certain calmness that signaled a transition into spring. 

“I used to love to come here whenever something was wrong, you know, like if I had a bad day at school, or if my parents were getting on my nerves, or if I just felt suffocated. It’s nothing special, just a pretty view that helped ground me whenever things went awry.” She slowed her trot to a saunter, allowing Harry to finally catch up and grab the strap of the small backpack she’d taken along with them to ensure she’d not leave him in the dust again. The sun was nearly gone, and the rustling of the tall grass coupled with the softness of Y/N’s hand made him feel at peace. 

They ventured farther into the grass until Y/N stopped them where the it thinned, and eventually faded into dirt and stones. Harry looked around, realizing there was a small pond and a few boulders under a tree at the edge of the water. 

“Come on!” Y/N shouted, already running for the large rocks before Harry had finished examining the quiet area. Her Bambi legs shook comically as she ran, but they carried her swiftly as Harry jogged behind her. She scrambled onto one of the boulders before plopping down, setting her backpack aside, and resting her weight against her hands behind her. Harry caught up once again, dragging himself up the boulder and grumpily seating himself beside her. 

“What’s the matter, grandpa,” she teased, bumping his shoulder with her own and trying to stifle her laughter. Harry’s face was pinched in annoyance as he struggled to hide his deep breaths. 

“Oi, m’not a grandpa. M’quite young, you know. Some would even call me a spring chicken!” Harry tried his best to be offended as Y/N guffawed next to him, hiccuping with her boisterous laughter. 

“Literally no one our age has ever used the term “spring chicken”, which is more proof that you’re old.” Harry rolled his eyes as Y/N’s laughter died down before clearing his throat and opening his mouth to speak. 

“So wha’s the deal w’this place, hm? Did yeh jus’ find it one day?” He glanced at her, watching her blow her baby hairs upward in such a cute manner that he had to use the entirety of his willpower to not lean over and kiss her, which was something he’d dreamt of doing for far too long. 

“Yeah, I guess one day my parents made me really upset when I was like twelve or something, so I just jumped the fence and ran as far as I could out here until I came to this place. It just kinda stuck with me, you know?” Harry nodded, reaching out for one of her hands to play with, feeling the soft skin rub over his own. Y/N cleared her throat, before continuing in a small voice, “I’ve never taken anyone here, just ‘cause this was a place I’d go to when something went wrong, or when I wanted to escape the world.” Harry’s eyes flickered up to Y/N’s face, taking in the way she bit her lip worriedly, as if what she’d said would cause him to react negatively. 

“Why’d yeh take a tosser like me t’ a place like this? S’bloody beautiful, shouldn’t ‘ave done tha’, Bambi.” Harry squeezed her hand, attempting to pull away before Y/N gripped it tighter, causing him to leave his hand in her grasp. 

“’Cause,” she said, “I used to go here when everything went wrong, and I don’t want it to be a place where I go to only when something’s wrong..I just.. I want it to be a place I can just go to, even when things are so, so, so right.” She punctuated her last word with a harsh sigh before whispering in a voice so quiet Harry thought he could miss it if he weren’t sitting so close, “So I brought the only person in my life who makes things so, so, so right.” 

The whole time, Harry had been staring intently at the surface of the pond. The waning rays of the sun had been replaced by the night sky, making the surface of the water look like a black mirror, but as soon as he’d heard Y/N, he’d ripped his eyes away from the water and stared at her, mouth agape and jaw slack. 

He looked at her, hearing his heart hammering loudly and the blood in his ears racing through is veins. The light from the stars illuminated her face enough that Harry could see a faint blush splashed across her cheeks, her eyes fluttering open and shut like butterfly wings, and her lips plump and swollen from her biting on them nervously. 

Harry scrambled up to his knees, and Y/N looked at him, shocked and worried, visibly retreating into herself and trying to shrink away from him. He stopped her, gripping her face between his two hands as gently as he could before breathing in shakily and pressing his lips to hers. 

Y/N squeaked, legitimately squeaked like a puppy whose tail had been stepped on, and Harry let out a breathy giggle, smiling against her lips as he felt her relax in his hold. He pulled away (too soon, if you asked him), still holding her face between his hands and trying to gauge her reaction, worried he’d read the situation wrong. Y/N stared at him, openmouthed, the blush across her cheeks more prominent and her eyes glinting with starlight behind her tousled hair. She gazed at him fondly, reaching up to cradle his face in her own hand and opening her mouth to say something, but Harry beat her to it. 

“Be m’girl, Bambi. Don’ want any confusion between us, ‘cause ‘ve wanted yeh for s’long now an’ there’s never been anyone ‘ve felt like this for. Yeh’re so lovely, an’ good, an’ kind, an’ beautiful, an’ yeh make me feel like m’home an’ safe all the time...I can’t let us go back now that I got a taste of yeh, so m’asking yeh to be m’girl.” Harry let the air rush out of his lungs, his hands that cupped her face shaking as he let his feelings out, thinking that he was done but apparently his heart wasn’t. “Wanna take y’out proper, go on dates an’ show y’off everywhere. Don’ care what the world says, really. Jus’ want yeh, all the time, Bambi. Want the whole world t’see yeh, Bambi, ‘cause all yeh’ve done since the day yeh spilled coffee on me is make m’world brighter. Want them all to know the name o’ the girl the’ stole m’heart.”

Y/N grinned at him, retracting her hand slowly before carefully reaching beside her to tug something out of her backpack. 

Harry was so lost in the way she was chewing her lip, blinking up at him like he’d given her the universe, that he didn’t notice the camera in her small hands. 

“Well?” He whispered, listening to the heaviness of both their breathing and the tranquil sounds of the nature around them, feeling the panic start to creep up from his stomach, to his heart, to his throat. 

“Y/N. And my answer is yes.” 

Harry barely registered the click and flashing light of the camera as he tackled Y/N, pressing his lips against any and every expanse of skin on her face as she laughed obnoxiously, letting the loud noise float over the grassland and the still water of the pond

[phillip-walsh]

[ william moseley, twenty-five, cis male, he/him ] ━ hey, I just saw [ phillip walsh ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ three days ], and you can catch them around town working as a [ unemployed ]. I hear they’re known to be [ protective & debonair ] and [ domineering & reactive ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ a black grand piano, fresh pressed designer suit, broken whiskey bottles, polo games in the summer, & city lights fading from an airplane ]. 

hello, lovelies! so this is my bby Phillip and he’s an old muse I’ve had for a long time (like 8 years lol) and I reworked just a bit and changed his face cause I’ve been dying to use him again. hit me up for plots as always, i’m down for anything and i’m so stoked to use him again<3 (p.s. his life is kinda tragic)

Triggers: bad parenting tw, abuse tw, physical abuse tw, drug use tw, death tw

FULL NAME: Phillip Aldrich Walsh NICKNAMES: Phil, Philly, Boy (his parents - mostly his father) AGE: Twenty-five BIRTHPLACE: New York, NY, USA OCCUPATION: unemployed / heir ZODIAC: Capricorn EDUCATION: Columbia University  LANGUAGES: English, French, & Spanish (knows a little Italian)

♘ Phillip Walsh came from a long line of captains of industry. His great grandfather got his start in New York City as a newspaper mogul and it was a something his family kept to until the 1960′s. It was then that his grandfather began to make the shift to the hotel business. He built his great empire from the ground up, his 5-star hotels began popping up across the globe over the decades. 

♘ His home was in Oyster Bay Cove, New York, but he didn’t really grow up in one place. Phillip’s parent’s traveled often for business and they didn’t like the idea of leaving him in the care of someone else so he accompanied them and was homeschooled by both his parents. 

♘ Phillip had lost count of all the times he’d wished for a normal childhood. Or even to be shipped off to boarding school. His parents were rough on him and expected nothing but the absolute best from him from an early age and it never got any easier. His father was a firm believer in discipline and taught him as a young boy to fear his firm hand. And his constant drinking never quelled the old man’s rage.

♘ Despite all the hardships he faced at the hands of his parents, he grew into a well-rounded, obedient young man. A son his socialite parents could be proud of. Brought up in the lap of luxury and never having to truly want for anything, Phillip was constantly restless and looking for something new to do. His interests were held by music and horseback riding which eventually turned to polo. His father was vehemently against his son playing music in a public setting, but Phillip pursued it anyway as his mother was constantly encouraging his music career. 

♘ It was on that musical pursuit that he met a girl who changed the way he saw the world. She was the type of person who made someone want to better themselves. She was a bit younger than him and for a while, he wasn’t able to see her as anything more than his best friend. Someone he could divulge all his secrets to for safe keeping. Though years later, after returning to New York after a long trip to Italy, Phillip realized Aurora was no longer just the little ballerina he’d known. 

♘ When Phillip turned 18, he started at Columbia as per his father's orders, though he didn’t mind much as New York had grown on him quickly. While at CU he studied Public Affairs and Sustainability Management. Both were at his father’s request, one he didn’t feel he could refuse as it was his money paying for it all. His parents of course still expected nothing but perfect grades and him to be home every Sunday night for dinner.

♘  Just before he turned 19, tragedy hit and his mother was killed. Circumstances surrounding her death were shady, to say the least, and the case was ruled a homicide by the coroner. Deep down, Phillip couldn’t help but feel as though his father had something to do with it and wanted to do something to uncover the truth.

♘ College was Phillip’s first real taste of freedom from his parents who had always kept him on such a short leash. And with his mother’s recent death he needed the space from his abusive father even more. He had a great deal of fun as it was his first real school experience. He allowed himself to indulge the wild side he never knew existed, partaking in drugs and heavy drinking when he would go out for the night. He even found ways to give his father the perfect grades he wanted without having to actually go to class; there was always someone he could pay to do it for him. And despite how little he actually went to class, Phillip learned a lot from the university and had big plans on ways to implement them in his families hotels. Something he planned to do from the company headquarters in NYC.

♘ Though as usual, Phillip’s plan wasn’t good enough for his father and he had something else in mind for him completely. The young man knew that one day his father would expect him to be the face of the empire, but never had he imagined would it be so soon. There were important investors all over the world and his father wanted him to wine and dine them all. To begin to make his own connections and even bring in a few new investors while he was at it. 

♘ As always, his father had put the weight of their world on his shoulders and no matter how much he hated it, Phillip obeyed. He’d been groomed all his life to take over the family business so naturally, Phillip was great at the job his father had given him. The young man spent the better part of two years globe-trotting, doing anything and everything his father asked of him. 

♘ Much to his dismay, he hadn’t been able to keep in touch with Ror as much as he’d have liked and so when he returned to New York, he made immediate plans to go to Boston. He’d even see the ballet just for her, though when he arrived he discovered she’d left months ago. He couldn’t help but panic as she’d never said anything to him about it and she didn’t seem as willing to take his calls. Without much thought about it at all, Phillip set out to find her so he might understand what had happened. Why she’d left him so in the dark. 

 ♘ His search led him right to Crownsville. Phillip told his father he was in Atlanta, gauging the possibility of opening a new hotel in the south, a lie his father bought right away. He only wondered how long he would continue to believe it for.

Other Personal Info:

♔ Despite how hard his mother was on him at times, he loved her dearly. She was the one who introduced him to the things he loved most, horses and music. Both were things he distanced himself from after her death as he found it too hard to carry on.

♔ Phillip has never known anything but hatred and resentment towards his father. He learned at a young age how to bury those feelings deep.

♔ The man is very smart, his parents made sure of it when they raised him.

♔ He’s an only child, but he has lots of cousins so he’s never really felt like it.

♔  He can get really reactive or heated very fast when rubbed the wrong way or if he’s been offended. The temper and rage is the one thing he inherited from his father that he hates about himself. 

♔ Phillip would never admit this to just anyone, but he is snobby AF. A total spoiled brat who expects all the finer things in life. 

♔ He likes to take power trips every now and then. Sarcasm is his favorite defense mechanism. 

♔ He’s also really dominant in the sense he’s not going to back down from anything (unless it’s his father). He was taught at a young age that being the top dog was always important and he could never let someone take that away from. He will always accept the challenge thrown down.

♔ Also, don’t insult his girl. He will fight you over it.<3