#Claudius II

[twofielder]

Coin of the Day #358 (4/27/2025)

Claudiu…

Roman Province - Pisidia

AE25 - 8.54g

Claudius II 268-270 AD

Antioch Mint

Obverse IMP CAES CLAVDIV

Bust of Claudius II right, radiate, draped, cuirassed, from behind

Reverse ANTIOCHI S R

Vexillum flanked by standards

RPC X 63367

[stairnaheireann]

St Valentine

There are many versions of the Legend of St Valentine, but a few things are known. That he was a priest martyred (as in beheaded) on 14th February, in either 269 AD or 270 AD by the Roman Emperor Claudius II, also known as Claudius the Cruel. Among Valentine’s crimes was secretly marrying Christian lovers. Claudius, being a sexist as well as a tyrant, decided that those pesky women were the…

[lizfielding99]

Valentine's Day Freebie!

Valentine’s Day This is the week when romantic couples all over the world celebrate Valentine’s Day. Valens was a popular name at the time so no one is absolutely sure who St Valentine was. One of  the stories is that he defied the Emperor Claudius II (I didn’t know there was more than one!) who had decreed that Roman soldiers could not marry. He performed the ceremony and cut hearts out of…

[janusfranc15]

Interesting! Multiple Valentines days sounds. Fun. Unless capitalism gets a hold of it, of course.

1. The St. Valentine who inspired the holiday may have been two different men.

Officially recognized by the Roman Catholic Church, St. Valentine is known to be a real person who died around A.D. 270.

However, his true identity was questioned as early as A.D. 496 by Pope Gelasius I, who referred to the martyr and his acts as “being known only to God.”

One account from the 1400s described Valentine as a temple priest who was beheaded near Rome by the emperor Claudius II for helping Christian couples wed.

A different account claims Valentine was the Bishop of Terni, also martyred by Claudius II on the outskirts of Rome.

Because of the similarities of these accounts, it’s thought they may refer to the same person.

Enough confusion surrounds the true identity of St. Valentine that the Catholic Church discontinued liturgical veneration of him in 1969, though his name remains on its list of officially recognized saints.

2. In all, there are about a dozen St. Valentines, plus a pope.

The saint we celebrate on Valentine’s Day is known officially as St. Valentine of Rome in order to differentiate him from the dozen or so other Valentines on the list.

Because “Valentinus”—from the Latin word for worthy, strong or powerful—was a popular moniker between the second and eighth centuries A.D., several martyrs over the centuries have carried this name.

The official Roman Catholic roster of saints shows about a dozen who were named Valentine or some variation thereof.

The most recently beatified Valentine is St. Valentine Berrio-Ochoa, a Spaniard of the Dominican order who traveled to Vietnam, where he served as bishop until his beheading in 1861.

Pope John Paul II canonized Berrio-Ochoa in 1988.

There was even a Pope Valentine, though little is known about him except that he served a mere 40 days around A.D. 827.

3. Valentine is the patron saint of beekeepers and epilepsy, among many other things.

Saints are certainly expected to keep busy in the afterlife. Their holy duties include interceding in earthly affairs and entertaining petitions from living souls.

In this respect, St. Valentine has wide-ranging spiritual responsibilities.

People call on him to watch over the lives of lovers, of course, but also for interventions regarding beekeeping and epilepsy, as well as the plague, fainting and traveling.

As you might expect, he’s also the patron saint of engaged couples and happy marriages.

4. You can find Valentine’s skull in Rome.

The flower-adorned skull of St. Valentine is on display in the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Rome.

In the early 1800s, the excavation of a catacomb near Rome yielded skeletal remains and other relics now associated with St. Valentine.

As is customary, these bits and pieces of the late saint’s body have subsequently been distributed to reliquaries around the world.

You’ll find other bits of St. Valentine’s skeleton on display in the Czech Republic, Ireland, Scotland, England, and France.

5. English poet Geoffrey Chaucer may have invented Valentine’s Day.

The medieval English poet Geoffrey Chaucer often took liberties with history, placing his poetic characters into fictitious historical contexts that he represented as real.

No record exists of romantic celebrations on Valentine’s Day prior to a poem Chaucer wrote around 1375.

In his work “Parliament of Foules,” he links a tradition of courtly love with the celebration of St. Valentine’s feast day – an association that didn’t exist until after his poem received widespread attention.

The poem refers to February 14 as the day birds (and humans) come together to find a mate.

When Chaucer wrote, “For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne’s day / Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate,” he may have invented the holiday we know today.

6. You can celebrate Valentine’s Day several times a year.

Because of the abundance of St. Valentines on the Roman Catholic roster, you can choose to celebrate the saint multiple times each year.

Besides February 14, you might decide to celebrate St. Valentine of Viterbo on November 3.

You may want to get a jump on the traditional Valentine celebration by feting St. Valentine of Raetia on January 7.

Women might choose to honor the only female St. Valentine (Valentina), a virgin martyred in Palestine on 25 July A.D. 308.

The Eastern Orthodox Church officially celebrates St. Valentine twice, once as an elder of the church on July 6 and once as a martyr on July 30.

[cottoncandiescupcakes]

Pick your own adventure!! Ancient Rome style

Pick a dress

A) Empress(My dress costs more than your life is worth I'll step on you)

B) Noble's daughter(An innocent young lady married off to the Emperor)

C) Slave girl(Humble beginnings can't keep a bad girl down)

D) Gladiator(I will jam a sword through your eye and you'll thank me for it)

E) Concubine(My body make empires rise and fall)

F) Not a girl(I'm a senator's son sleeping my way to the top)

Marry a crazy Emperor

A) Emperor Commodus(I want my Emperor tall, dark and handsome)

B) Emperor Geta(I just want my husband to be prettier than me)

C) Emperor Caracalla(Eeee so cute! Comes with FREE MONKEY)

Cheat with a General

A) Marcus Acacius(A handsome loyal good man who'll actually treat me right)

B) Maximus(I like my men butch as fuck and I'll be his little swooning princess)

C) Claudius(I have a bad Emperor and now I want a bad General too)

It's your birthday! Pick a gladiator sex slave

A) Hanno/Lucius(I'm simple, I like poetry and big thighs. Take me now)

B) Spartacus(Brooding and piercing eyes and will stab a bitch in the solar plexus? Yes)

C) Varro(I just want a big smiling blonde himbo to hold me I'm lonely)

D) Crixus(I want the man all the Roman noblewomen thirst after. Mine now, bitch)

E) Agron(Cute, violent and possible threesome? Any day)

F) Nasir(Just because I get a gladiator doesn't mean I have to give up on pretty boys)

Your time is up! Pick a worthy death

A) Decapitated by sword in combat. Quick and bloody.

B) Dondus, Emperor Caracalla's pet monkey, eats my face clean off

C) The glamorous Lucretia finds out I've been banging one of her favorite gladiators and poisons my wine

D) I am accidently launched by trebuchet far past Roman walls

E) I choked on rose petals at Elagabalus' orgy. Woe is me

F) Horror of horrors! I must face off the arena's undefeated champion, Moo-Deng the hippo. A crowd favorite, I have no chance of a thumbs up at all and slowly but surely, the creature devours me, starting with my knee caps

You died.... the Gods may not sing of your glory but you lived and lived well! A true citizen of Rome to your last breath.

[typhoid-tb-bb]

After doing some wikipedia rabbit holes after watching the Gladiator films, I've come to the conclusion that Roman emperors came in two flavours

1: Twink

2: old

And a twink emperors were more likely to go insane faster than the old emperors, still likely to go insane but the twinks get it faster.

[beansontoastttt]

I dont think he likes tickles

[selidren]

Eté 1932 - Champs-les-Sims

4/6

Il adore ses enfants. Il passe ordinairement beaucoup de temps à visiter tous ses petit-enfants, leur commande toujours des tas de jouets sur les catalogues et il gère plus ou moins la maison de son fils, mon cousin Alexandre, où il habite. Je ne sais pas si je t'en ai déjà parlé en détail, mais mon cousin Alexandre a été volontaire durant la guerre, et si il a miraculeusement évité toute blessure physique, il est revenu un peu comme ton père, "brisé en dedans". Il avait une amoureuse de longue date, mais a refusé pendant longtemps de l'épouser à cause de prodigieuses crises de colères où il perd tout discernement. Grâce à l'intervention de Grand-Mère, il s'est cependant marié au final. Et cela fait neuf ans.

Seulement, malgré le soutien de son père et de son épouse, il n'est jamais allé mieux, bien au contraire. Il s'est mis à boire il y a quelques années pour tenter d'endiguer sa peine, mais comme tu t'en doute, ce n'est pas la chose à faire. Alcool et violence ne font pas bon ménage. Adelphe n'a pas pu me cacher très longtemps que sa pauvre belle-fille subissait des coups, et je sais que lui aussi en a reçu à quelques occasions. Il est désespéré, il ne sait pas quoi faire, et comme pour tout ce qui lui arrive, mon oncle insiste toujours pour s'en rendre responsable. Je comprends, mais si c'est la guerre qui a détruit à ce point mon cousin, comment pourrait-il ? Même lui ne pouvait pas sauver son fils de la guerre.

Le couple refuse le divorce, et même la séparation. J'ai bien tenté d'aider comme je voulais, mais l'épouse d'Alexandre m'a clairement fait comprendre qu'elle ne voulait pas que je me mêle de mes affaires. Adelphe pare au plus pressé, à savoir protéger ses petits-enfants, dont la petite Eugénie qui est née l'année passée, et il espère leur faire entendre raison au plus vite, mais sans vraiment d'espoir. Mon cousin, qui avait quelques lucidités au sujet de son état il y a des années, a aujourd'hui complètement sombré dans le déni. Nous aimerions tous qu'il aille dans une clinique, mais il refuse toujours, prétextant qu'il n'est pas fou ! Il m'a même lancé qu'il n'était pas comme "ma soeur la tarrée". Adelphe m'assure qu'il n'a pas toujours été ainsi, et c'est vrai qu'il peut se montrer charmant et compréhensif certaines fois, mais je suis en train de les oublier petit à petit.

Transcription :

Adelphe « Tu n’as pas encore déménagé dans la nouvelle aile ? J’avoue qu’elle sent encore beaucoup la peinture mais... »

Arsinoé « Ah si, bien sur. Mais j’aime bien venir ici, c’est une pièce apaisante. »

Adelphe « C’est une pièce vieillotte et poussiéreuse oui ! Elle n’a quasiment pas changé depuis le mariage de tes parents, et pour être parfaitement honnête, j’avais fait aménager cette pièce pour moi et Marie. Ton père s’est contenté de changer les couleurs des tapisseries et du couvre-lit. »

Arsinoé « Il n’a jamais été grand amateur de décoration d’intérieur c’est vrai. Mais malgré tout, je pense que je vais la conserver dans son état actuel. C’est important, je pense, qu’une pièce au moins échappe à cette modernisation forcenée, mis à part la salle à manger et le bureau de Papa bien sur. C’est un petit morceau d’histoire, cette pièce. Beaucoup d’enfants de la famille ont été conçus et sont nés dans ce lit. Moi par exemple, ainsi que les petites. »

Adelphe « Alexandre également… Mais veille quand même à raffraichir les tapisseries, à polir les appliques en laiton et laquer à nouveau le bois, la coiffeuse a connu des jours meilleurs. »

Arsinoé « Dis-moi, Oncle Adelphe. Il est déjà tard. Pourquoi, toi, tu es venu te cacher là ? »

Adelphe « Hum… et bien… C’est compliqué à la maison en ce moment. J’ai peur de lui déclencher une crise en lui imposant ma présence ce soir. »

Arsinoé « C’est si grave ? »

Adelphe « Nous ne sommes pas dans une bonne période disons… Il fait des efforts mais… j’ai envoyé Sylvette et les enfants chez sa sœur Yvonne pour quelques jours. Je crois que ce sont les pleurs du bébé… il ne les supporte pas. »

Arsinoé « Il n’y a rien à faire ? »

Adelphe « J’ai déjà tout essayé. Mais je ne suis que son père, je ne peux pas faire à sa place ce qui devrait être fait. Parfois, j’aimerais prendre sa douleur pour souffrir à sa place, mais ce n’est pas comme cela que ça marche. »

Arsinoé « Je suis tellement désolée… Et… enfin, hum… le divorce ? Ce serait mieux pour tous les deux. »

Adelphe « Oh oui, je regrette chaque jour d’avoir laissé Grand-Mère le convaincre de se marier, mais c’est fait ! Et ils refusent tous les deux ! Lui à cause de sa foutue fierté et elle… J’ai eu beau lui dire que la famille ne trouverait rien à y redire de notre côté, mais tu sais comment peuvent être les Norel. »

Arsinoé « Tu veux que j’aille lui parler ? Peut-être qu’un point de vue féminin pourrait la pousser à reconsidérer la question. Et il y a les enfants… Il n’a jamais... »

Adelphe « Non ! Il n’a jamais levé la main sur eux. Mais hier soir, il m’a tout de même dit qu’il avait peur que cela arrive un jour. Mon fils me fait peur et… je ne sais pas du tout quoi faire. Je suis démuni. Il refuse de voir le moindre médecin, même Rose. Il m’a déjà hurlé à la figure qu’il n’était pas un cinglé ! Va parler à Sylvette, mais je doute qu’elle t’écoute. »

Arsinoé « Je ne comprends pas comment elle peut rester avec lui dans ces conditions. »

Adelphe « Toi et moi avons grandi dans des foyers où ce genre de problème n’existait tout simplement pas. Nos parents nous ont transmis des démons, mais rien à voir avec ceux qui tourmentent Alexandre. Nous ne savons pas tout de ce qu’il se passe quand les portes sont closes. »

Arsinoé « Alors je vais essayer ! Dors ici cette nuit, tu es toujours le bienvenu dans la maison qui nous a vus naître. Et arrête de te flageller, ce n’est pas ta faute. »

Adelphe « C’est mon fils qu’il s’agit ! Bien entendu que c’est de ma faute ! »

[tiny-librarian]

Royal Birthdays for today, August 1st:

Claudius Roman Emperor, 10 B.C

Pertinax, Roman Emperor, 126

Taizu of Jin, Chinese Emperor, 1068

Kōgon, Emperor of Japan, 1313

Go-Komatsu, Emperor of Japan, 1377

Wolfgang, Prince of Anhalt-Köthen, 1492

Sigismund II Augustus, King of Poland, 1520

Chikako, Princess Kazu, 1846

Alexander, King of Greece, 1893

Phương Mai of Vietnam, Duchess of Addis Abeba, 1937

[denbo66]

Happy 60th Birthday to BBC 2 or BBC TWO. Whichever.

[sir-borre]

"For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground

And tell sad stories of the death of kings;

How some have been deposed; some slain in war,

Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;

Some poison’d by their wives: some sleeping kill’d;"

"All murder’d: for within the hollow crown

That rounds the mortal temples of a king

Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,

Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp."

Isaac II and Alexios III Angelos - Nemanjici: Radjanje kraljevine (2018)

Trajan Decius - Rome: Rise and Fall of an Empire (2008)

Claudius I and Tiberius I - I, Claudius (1976)

[twofielder]

Coin of the Day #419 (6/27/2025)

Another from the rare imperial mint in Smyrna…

Roman Empire

BI Antoninianus - 21mm 4.37g

Claudius II c. end 268 - early 269 AD

Smyrna Mint

Obverse IMP C M AVR CLAVDIVS AVG

Bust of Claudius II right, radiated, cuirassed, • below

Reverse VENVS AVG

Venus standing left, holding helmet and spear, shield at side, SPQR below

RIC V online 842

[lizardrosen]

Hamlet Liveblog 2011, ACT TWO

I found a notebook from college when I went through the text of Hamlet line by line, and now I'm sharing the best parts! Act One

Act II, Scene 1

People who deserve backstory: - Reynaldo - Polonius current Will: I have always been exactly this way, omg

2.1.64 "by indirections find directions out" - theme of the whole freaking play! Polonius is maybe not as much of a fool as he seems. Similar to Hamlet pretending to be mad

2.1.88-89 "he fell to such perusal of my face / As a would draw it" - he wants to remember her as she is before he loses it - and he knows he will

Why stage it like this? Perhaps it is more effective to see his madness through the eyes of someone else

2.1.100 "This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property fordoes itself" - now he believes that Hamlet loves Ophelia and that it's killing him to be repelled like this (Perhaps it is)

Act II, Scene 2

2.2.6-7 "Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man / resembles that it was." - what people see and what Hamlet contemplates

2.2.28-29 "Put your dread pleasures more into command / than to entreaty" - Rosencrantz doesn't understand why the majesties are not following the status quo - are they on friendly terms? He doesn't know

2.2.70 "Never more to give the assay of arms against your majesty" Does this mean Claudius has no more foreign relations to deal with? Now Shakespeare can move onto what he really cares about: the domestic/internal stage. current Will: This was partially correct! I was drawing a connection to Othello and Macbeth, where the foreign armies are defeated offstage very early on and never really come up again, and it's true that Fortinbras becomes less of the focus for a while, but he's still a threat on the edges of the play.

2.2.93-94 "Mad call I it, for to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?" - You'll drive yourself crazy trying to figure out what madness is, or you'll avoid the question and never know if you're insane or not. In short, this place is a madhouse.

2.2.139 "He is a prince, out of thy star" - again with the celestial spheres and orbits!

2.2.160 "I'll loose my daughter to him" - she's a tool or plot device

2.2.174 "for if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog" - what does this have to do with honesty? When there's no integrity, lies grow easily; or a cute girl in the public gaze gets pregnant and diseased

2.2.201-203 Polonius: Will you walk out of the air, my lord? Hamlet: Into my grave? Polonius: Indeed, that's out of the air. Hamlet is considering his own mortality, but Polonius turns his comment into a joke

2.2.209-210 "You cannot take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life" Hamlet is tired of Polonius and his mindless words, and he's also still thinking of death, so he wants to die and finds it fitting that Polonius would be the one to kill him

2.2.215 Guil: My honored lord (formal) Ros: My most dear lord (impulsive and trusting)

2.2.234-5 "Denmark's a prison" - Hamlet's bound by fillial duty to seek reveng, and he needs to watch as his uncle slips into his father's throne and sheets "Then is the world one" - Rosencrantz is trapped by trying to figure out where he is and why, so he has no free will, no reference point, besides Guil, who's just as confused but more upset

2.2.242-43 "I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams" Okay, there's a lot of stuff here - hints of claustrophobia; wants to be king somewhere; is it the infinity of space that gives him the dreams, or would he already have them? universes within universes, relative sizes, and the suffocating distance between electrons nutshells associated with fairies and Queen Mab, which is appropriate since she blows men's dreams way out of proportion

(and then I tried very earnestly to analyze the whole "a dream itself is but a shadow" dialogue, but mostly through the lens of coming up with headcanons for Ros and Guil, which is not a very good critical lens actually, and twelve years later it makes approximately zero sense, so I'll spare us all)

2.2.256 "In the beaten way of friendship" - it's like a beaten path, so longstanding, but also maybe just there out of habit and no real affection; or beaten like broken down and in disrepair because he doesn't trust them and has bigger things on his mind

2.2.262-63 "Come, deal justly with me" - genuinely hurt that they don't tell him the truth, also perhaps an order to obey "come, come, nay, speak" - in some versions he actually says 'knave', which belies his claims of friendship earlier "What should we say, my lord?" - Guil is hurt by this; maybe Ros was gesturing and trying to communicate something, or he was trying to figure something out. Anyway, Guil was jolted into the present and remembered about delving

2.2.271 - "by the obligation of our ever preserved love" - Hamlet uses their prior relationship (may be present still) to pressure them into telling him everything. He might not really value them anymore and is jealous of the love they bear each other, (and wonders why he can't have the same with Horatio)

Question: Would R&GaD have gone any differently if they knew about the ghost?

2.2.282-290 He knows that man and earth and sky are beautiful "majestical" creatures, but can't feel it and sees it all as "this quintessence of dust"; "What a piece of work is man!" Is he admiring mankind (in theory) or is he judging R + G for being sneaky? Or mocking them because they have no "apprehension" at all? (well, fear, but no understanding)

2.2.439 "like a neutral to his will and matter did nothing" - unable to think or act, like Hamlet hesitates to just kill Claudius

oh, interesting, I thought that the Hecuba speech was foreshadowing for Ophelia losing her mind after Polonius is killed, and not Hamlet being preoccupied with Gertrude's reaction to her husband's death! I think this has to be because I was unfamiliar with the Pyrrhus and Priam story

The Player can stir up passion in himself for a fictional character, but Hamlet can't do anything with his real motive. All people are characters for him, so he can sympathize with any of them.

2.2.550-51 "If a do blench, I know my course" - somewhat overreactionary (sic), but better than not doing anything; of course Hamlet can make himself see anything (see Othello's "ocular proof")

[universalambients]

Music for roman soldiers resting

[calves]

Fugly cute overstruck quintillus ant on the minotaurcoins catalogue . Looks like it got seriously chewed but the portrait is alright though the curly hair is vague but its $17 and I just might cave

[siriuslylantsov]

be my valentine

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which, spencer asks you out after a hearty but incomplete info dump on the history of valentines day.

tags: fluff! idiots inlove, gn!reader, reader is briefly described as shorter than spencer, teasing!spencer, grumpy!reader, penelope is an angel and i love her so much, reader shitting on valentines day and raising some very valid points.

a/n: based on this request, second fic for the event!! i know its still four days till valentines day but! if i didnt get this done now it would've been late. i rewrote this THREE times... but i rlly like how this version came out! happy reading :)

wc: 2.1k

it's your lunch break and you’re glaring at yet another sappy couple that walks by you. grumbling, you take another bite of your blueberry muffin. spencer laughs from his seat in front of you, amused by how your lip curls into an irritated pout. the two of you had walked to a cafe, a brief reprieve away from the frenzied police department you were stationed at for this week's case. 

“motherfuckers,” you seethe, still chewing your food. “i hate valentine's day.”

he laughs again, his tone sarcastic, “really, i never would’ve guessed.”

your glare shifts to him as you cross your arms. his grin is still there, annoyingly persistent, you hate that it doesn't affect him as much as it should. if you told him this, he would’ve told you that it didn't pack much of a punch. 

you roll your eyes and continue with a heavy scoff, “it's just another fake holiday, you know. like mother's day. created by greeting card companies trying to commercialise a day that shouldn't even exist honestly. every day should be dedicated to showing your loved ones how much you care, not just 24 hours in the middle of february.”

he accepts your cynicism with a smirk, completely accustomed to it. he knows you don’t mean it, not entirely, you just like to rant. “you know valentines day actually goes back about 2000 years. i’m sure greeting card companies weren't around back then,” he corrects, biting his lip in suppression.

your eyes narrow into slits, feeling the faint shift in the air of an incoming info dump. you ignore the way you want to hear what he has to say and take a sip of your coffee instead. you stall to torture him a bit, it's funny how he squirms.

“really,” you drag out, stroking your chin in exaggerated contemplation. you stare at him knowingly, he wants to continue but he's waiting for you to give him the green light. you laugh quietly, mood already improved, “go on.”

spencer visibly brightens, sitting up straighter and hands springing into action. “well, valentine's day has a really fascinating and somewhat convoluted history,” he starts, almost giddily. “the earliest accepted theory can be traced back to the roman festival of lupercalia, which was celebrated from february 13th to 15th. it was a fertility festival dedicated to faunus, the roman god of agriculture, and it included a ritual where men would sacrifice a goat and a dog, then use strips of the goat’s hide to whip women-”

“wait, they used goat skin to whip women?” you interject, eyes widening incredulously.

“yes! they willingly lined up for it too, believing it would make them more fertile,” he explains, far too animated considering the context, but it's okay. you like his enthusiasm. 

you grimace, “weird.”

“right. however, the day of love that we now recognise was brought by st. valentine, though which valentine is unclear—there were at least three martyred saints by that name. the most famous story involves a priest in third-century rome who defied emperor claudius ii's orders by secretly performing marriages for young soldiers,” he pauses to take a breath. you use it to bring your coffee back up to your lips, hiding your smile.

“claudius believed single men made better warriors, so he banned them from marrying,” he clarifies to which you nod. “when valentine was caught, he was executed on february 14th, which is why he’s the namesake of the holiday. some versions of the story even say that he sent a letter to his jailer's daughter signed ‘from your valentine’ which could be the origin of the modern tradition.”

“huh,” you pick your lip in thought, spencer hides the way his eyes dart down to them as you do it. “but that’s still an execution, how did it-”

the shrill tone of your ringtone interrupts you. “mhm, okay,” you respond when you pick up the phone. “we’ll be right there.” 

spencer stares at you expectantly, reaching over to grab your bag. he secures it over his shoulder and stands up. 

“it was jj,” you explain, stuffing the last bits of muffin into your mouth. “wi’ness ‘howed up.”

the food-muffled words make him chuckle and hold out a hand for you to get up. you let him pull you up with a dramatic huff, still holding his hand as you dust crumbs from your lap. you realise it a little too late and let go with a start, frown returning when you realise he isn’t going to let you carry your bag.

the walk back only took about five minutes before but this time's slower pace makes it a longer ordeal. comfortable silence brackets the two of you until it doesn’t when spencer speaks up.

“so, there's actually a lot more to the history of valentine's day. for instance, how the day became one of romance instead of, as you said, one that marked a martyrdom. we could, i don't know, discuss this properly over dinner. or drinks? or ice cream, i know that you like ice cream-”

filler words... he’s nervous. amid his rambling, he doesn't realise that you’ve stopped in your tracks. 

“-we can do whatever you want, i don't mind.” when he looks beside him and doesn't find you, he turns around. he can scarcely read the expression on your face, he usually can. this causes a little bout of concern to bubble up, “what is it?”

“are you asking me out?” your question is immediate, blunt, as a confused crease forms between your eyebrows.

well shit, he was. his lips part as he processes what he just said, he looks a little like a deer in headlights the way he stares back at you. was that too much? are you mad? did you want him to ask you out? what if you say no? he should say something. what if he messes everything up? he can’t-

“spencer,” his name rings out softly, pulling him from his spiral. 

his eyes snap to yours, searching, desperate to read between the lines, to piece together what you’re thinking like he always does—except this time, he can’t. he squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, “yes.”

he swallows hard and adds, “on a date.”

“i got that,” you murmur, stepping closer to him, and closing the distance that he unintentionally left.

his head dips, voice small. “i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

your head tilts slightly, studying him. “you didn’t.”

the reassurance eases him a little but not enough as the anxiety claws at him while he waits for your answer. your phone sounds again from your pocket, this time a text from morgan. you quickly type out a response–got lost, be there in 2. it's a pathetic excuse, if you focused, the station was in your direct eye line. but you needed to say something. 

“okay.”

he can't help the sign of relief that slips out of him, you giggle at the sound. when he looks at you again, he's unmeasurably happy to see your poorly concealed smile, breaking out in his own matching one. 

“yeah?” he asks sheepishly.

you nod, chewing your bottom lip, “yeah.”

your eyes squint at the corners, a side effect of the same grin that those sappy couples had been sporting, the same one that you’d been complaining about a little while ago. it makes you want to kick yourself, so you do the next best thing. you take hold of spencer's hand and drag yourself back to the pd. spencer shuffles somewhat behind you, trying to keep up with your stride. it doesn't take him long with those long legs of his.

his thumb strokes your knuckles gently–deliberately, you feel–but he pretends it's an unconscious action with the way his eyes are trained ahead. it makes you roll your eyes. when you near, you reluctantly let go of each other, the moment being the last time the two of you are alone for the rest of the day.

-

the team ends up solving the case a few hours later, taking the jet home where a valentines day baking spread is set up in the briefing room. all set up by the resident tech savvy. penelope tells you later that it took a whole week of convincing on her part, insisting that it would be quick and she’d clean up, and that everyone would get home to their own valentine's day plans in no time. 

there are a few heart-shaped helium balloons floating in the corners, and pink streamers in easy to reach places. the room is drastically more inviting, maybe the tones of fuschia and bubblegum have something to do with that. a cake and a bowl of suspiciously dyed punch reside on the table, along with pink plates and cups.

“penelope,” you gasp when you see them.

perfectly curated baskets of chocolate and cookies and associated items for everyone. you pick up the one with your name on it and inside you find: a candle, your favourite candy tied together with a little bow and a letter signed ‘happy valentines day, sweetheart. love, penny xx’. 

oh my god, you could kiss her. 

“it's like christmas,” emily muses from the other end of the table. you hear jj mutter something in agreement. you peek over at spencer, it's probably the hundredth time that you've snuck a glance his way. his eyes were already on you every other time, only now they were accompanied by a pair of red heart-shaped glasses, the clear plastic lenses offering a perfect view of his hazel orbs. the picture makes you laugh to yourself, you can barely hear it echoing from his end. 

-

about 30 minutes later, only the stragglers are left. in better words, the single people. the individuals with partners having rushed off to their own respective plans. you're making small talk with another girl who worked around the office when you feel a light hand on your shoulder, spencer nodding his head toward the elevator to signal your leave. you politely wish her goodbye and walk out with him. 

“cute glasses,” you tease, bumping his shoulder with yours, though the height difference makes it so you're nudging his upper arm. 

“yeah? i might get the lenses medicated, switch them out for my regular ones,” he jokes, his elbow nudging yours gently as he pushes the bridge of the glasses up the slope of his nose instinctively. 

“good idea,” you nod.

“you think?”

“mhm.” 

once again, he beats you to your bag, swiping it from your chair and carrying it along with his own. you meekly toy with the hem of your shirt as the two of you walk to the elevator. 

“so, bummer that neither of us have plans today. it’s so early,” you say, being blatantly obvious with what you're suggesting.

spencer only offers you an indifferent “yeah, bummer” in response, walking in when the doors slide open. when you look at him though, he's anything but indifferent, the corner of his lip pulling up in a crooked smile, irritatingly smug. you don't know where he gets off on being so at ease but the expression on his face makes you scowl as you follow him in. 

he is silent the whole ride down. you become increasingly annoyed, only faltering slightly when his hand reaches down to hold yours. his fingers thread between yours and you not-so subtly curl yours over his, ignoring the way he looks down at you. 

you try not to smile at the domestic picture of the two of you walking out hand in hand. thankfully the basement is empty. he pauses between your cars and mutters a quick “see you monday” before loosening his fingers and turning to walk away.

“spencer,” you groan, almost a whine as you squeeze his hand before he can let go.

he responds immediately, without missing a beat, “yes, angel.”

fuck.

you want to melt but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “would you like to do something tonight?” you grit out begrudgingly.

“i would love to,” he agrees, pulling you closer with your hand. your gaze darts to the two bag straps on his shoulder and you realise he had no intention of letting you go just like that. so you shove him, a little hard that he stumbles a bit. he huffs a laugh and you shake your head dismissively. 

he slowly, tentatively, dips down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the contact. 

“how does thai food sound?” he asks, that same bashfulness creeping into his voice that you love so dearly. 

“sounds perfect.”

you share another sweet smile that would probably make you gag from an outside perspective but now it just makes you feel dizzy. he leads you back to his car, muttering something about how he’ll pick yours up tomorrow morning. you want to argue with him but that same dizzy feeling stops you.

you can't help the dreamy sigh that slips out when he connects your hands again over the centre console. thank god for st. valentine, you think.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

divider from @saradika-graphics