#but it does feel a little bit like he's giving up this season

[maxarchive]

How are the emotions on this Saturday evening in Las Vegas? Is it an overriding relief? Is that the main thing?

An immense relief, but also a little bit more emotional than I was expecting, actually. Both from Max on the radio and I let Christian give him, well, let's say carry out all the complimentaries on the radio, because I choked up a little bit as well, and I think it just comes down to that relief at the end of what has been actually quite an intense year. Not quite as intense as 2021, but it at times ran it close.

Why is this one so special?

They're all special, don't get me wrong. Last year was special for very different reasons, but this one's special because of the effort and commitment that not only Max, but the whole team has had to put in to make it happen. Ok, the first half looked like it was a bit of a cruise, but actually we entered quite a difficult period, as everybody knows. But we had to work day and night to really try to understand the source of the problems and I think we've started to come out the other side, which is great news for the team, but it's also meant that our performances on track have improved and we saw the combination of that in Brazil as well.

Tell us a little bit more about the job that Max Verstappen has done this year. Would you say it's his best season so far?

The worrying thing for the grid is that Max is improving every year, which is frightening really because he's at an incredible level as it is, but in all areas he's working hard with the team, his racecraft on track, his qualifying laps, his consistency and also his ability to give up when you need to give up, and we saw that today, you know, he raced for what matter today rather than the final place on the podium.

In all of those areas you've just described, where has he made the most progress this year?

I think ultimately it just comes down to maturity and experience. Having been there three times before, I guess 2021 laid the foundations and now he's just becoming a very, very, very complete driver.

Since Miami, McLaren have been running you close. They've quite often been faster than you. Has there ever been a moment this year where you've doubted that you were going to win this championship?

I wouldn't say doubted, but certainly you don't take anything for granted. And as I said earlier, we took one race at a time, there was bit of a trend towards the middle of the year where things weren't going our way and we could see that other teams, not only McLaren, but other teams were making progress on us, relatively speaking and we had to do something. We had to make some changes and the team has come through on that. So kudos to them.

And how is your bond with Max evolved this year because it feels like this is the first time since you've been winning championships that you've been under a lot of strain together. And we did hear a few flare ups along the way, didn't we? Has it always been all sweetness and light or have there been-

Hungary springs to mind. We had actually a very quiet week after, I don't think there was a word spoken in the 3/4 days after the Hungary race, but we had a really good meeting in Spa together with Christian and Pierre just clearing the air. Not that there was ever any animosity, but I think sometimes when adrenaline is running that high, it's best just to leave things alone. Max and I are very similar in that respect. We're not one to bow down and give in very easily. So, yes, definitely that portion of the year springs to mind. But for the rest, again, it's a relationship that's grown over nine seasons. So we know each other very well. We work together very well. So long may that continue.

Well, let's throw it forward to 2025. It looks on paper like it might be incredibly close. Does that actually help someone like Max Verstappen because he makes no mistakes?

I think it helps him knowing that he has the ability to pull off results that perhaps aren't always there. And I think at the same time that maybe hurts or dents some of his competitors psychologically, not all of them, but perhaps some of them. But, you know, 2025 is a few months away. Now, I think more importantly, we need to finish the year on a high to keep morale in the team up over the winter because again it's been a really hard, hard year. And I think this was a bit of a unique, as everybody knows, it was a bit of a unique event with the temperatures and the tyres behavior, et cetera. So I don't think it's a true reflection of the car performance out there today. We'll do our best to finish Qatar and Abu Dhabi on a high and hopefully grab another win or, or two. And then, yeah, next year is next year.

[bay7let]

I hate that everyone just constantly forgets what Kai went through/the trauma he has.

People constantly forget that Kai literally raised Nya Of course hes going to be better at cooking, stealing, sewing and treating wounds, even just handling situations. He was 5 when his parents left. 5!! Nya was 3. Thats a baby taking care of his little sister. Kai may act like a child sometimes but that is quite literally because he never even had a childhood.

Speaking of people not talking about his trauma i dont think the other ninjas even really know? Like he offhandedly mentions it once or twice, but we literally never get to see him talk to someone about it and that hurts because that must have been hard.

And everyone constantly saying how selfish he is??? Like no he is not. My guy raised Nya then practically raised Lloyd as well (everyone did lol but i feel like Kai was most helpful/protective of him) Literally the only reason he became a ninja was because he needed to save Nya. And he was a bit selfish at times but it's mainly because he saw himself as a burden to the team because he thinks he isn't as useful as the other ninjas, plus part of his entire arc was him learning he didnt need to be selfish because he was just as good as the other ninjas. Selfish isn’t the word im looking for but im not sure what i am looking for lol. But that is one of the main reasons he wanted so bad to become the green ninja. He wanted to be validated because his entire life he was looking after Nya or helping others, putting others before himself. Becoming the green ninja would have validated all that he went through because he would finally be recognized for helping people.

Wu even says that Kai pays the price for Wu’s mistakes in season 11 (i think its episode 11 or 12 i don’t remember). Kai is constantly self sacrificing (or attempting to) to save others. (Except season 8 episode 10 when for some reason Kai doesnt want to give up his powers to save Lloyd? Which does not make sense because he was always the one to give up anything and everything to keep Lloyd safe, best shown in season 5) (while on the topic of weird character choices for Kai why did they make him suck at negotiating? Cause he was a blacksmith woth a shop he ran on his own, of course he is going to be good at negotiating. Unless customers were scamming him all the time)

I hate that people just straight up ignore his trauma, and make him out to be some dumb guy. Of course hes not going to be book smart because he literally did not go to school (did Nya even go for that matter?) but he was constantly finding ways for them to survive while he and Nya were on the streets. Hes not books smart but he is very street smart.

Sorry about the giant ass rant but i hate that his character get so misunderstood

[alpaca-clouds]

Arcane Season 2 - How Bad Pacing Can Ruin Everything

So, Arcane season 2 ended. And I am sorry, I need to vent.

I am honestly not sure whether the rumors are true and this were originally meant to be more seasons. The Riot CEO apparently denies it, but then again, I have seen CEOs confidently go out on stages to talk about a project which they knew was cancelled at that point in time. So, sorry, but I will never ever trust a CEO. Lying is like 50% of their jobs. Being greedy is the other half. Sorry, not sorry.

I am gonna write something about disability in Arcane (overall) during the next few days, but let me just talk a bit about the pacing issues of season 2.

Spoilers for season 2 - all of it - obviously.

Believe me or not, but I know the exact issue of Arcane season 2. It is called: Too many characters. Too many plotlines. It is something that easily happens when writing an ensemble story (no matter what the format is you publish the story in - it happens in books, movies, shows, games). At times it works fine if you manage to weave the entire ensemble into the same main plot. But as soon as you wanna give everyone their own little storyarc with a bit of their own themes, it often goes haywire. Either you will end up dropping some characters to the side and not properly finish up their story, or you will end up rushing everything. Neither is gonna be good.

Here I am mainly thinking... Was the entire Black Rose/LaBlanc stuff planned to be there from the beginning? Was it put in later? I mean, given that the entire story felt like it might set up Mel as a Champion for LoL... How do I put it? Mel was too overdesigned in the show, to not be a future Champion. That was my feeling from the beginning. I don't know if they gonna make her a Champion, but man, it feels like it.

But no, the main issue really is the pacing. There is just too much stuff happening.

I will remain, that the thing that shows this better than anything was the second "arc" of season 2. Episode 4-6. And the general way the entire Caitlyn, Vi, Jinx thing plays out. We have the following things happen in the first six episodes of season 2:

Cait's mother dies

Cait swears revenge and asks Vi to assist her as an enforcer

Vi does not want to. Ends up getting drunk.

Vi decides to do it anyway.

They do a bit of chemical warfare for good measures.

They go down there. Fight Jinx. Vi cannot do it - partly because Isha.

Cait breaks up with Vi and becomes the evil fascist dictator

Vi becomes an alcohol addict.

Except, never mind, Caitlin is already feeling shitty about it next episode.

Jinx gets Vi and Magic Pixie Dreamgirls her out of her new-found addiction.

Jinx and Vi are good again. They go help Vander.

Cait meets Vi for the first time since the break up. They instantly are back on the same page.

Like, there is so many plothooks in this storyline alone that do go completely unexplored.

There are two characters here, that do play a role in the last three episodes too and that felt like they were some proper characters at some point. Those two are Maddie - the Scottish-dialect enforcer girl - and... Frankly, I do not feel like looking up the name. The big burly one, who after the break-up takes care of Vi.

Those two feel like they were at some point meant to be more real characters. But because of the pacing, they are barely ideas. Maddie starts making out with Caitlyn because...? I don't know. Because I literally do not know anything about this character but "she is an enforcer", "she is queer", "she is attracted to power(?)", and thats it.

And the other guy goes with Vi because... Uhm... I don't know. I know literally nothing about this chaaracter other than that he is big and an enforcer. *shrugs*

It most certainly feels like there was some planned version of this show, in which Cait and Vi both had a proper corruption arc. In which we really saw the two of them struggle. In which we actually saw Piltover and Zaun under the control of Commander Caitlyn and Noxus, and saw the horrible things they were doing and what it was doing with Caitlyn. In which we also saw Vi struggling with addiction and stuff.

But that was not the version we got in the end. Instead in this version... things go magically well.

Hooray?

Same with Jinx. Her mental health issues just magically get better when Isha is there, because that is what the story needs to happen now.

Here, too, it also feels like huge chunks of the story are missing. It feels like there was a story going more into the relationship of Sevika and Jinx for a bit. But if that story had been there once, it was most certainly no longer there. It was hinted at, yeah, but that's it.

And then there is the entire magic plot.

Look, I think among the fans of the LoL Lore I am not the first one to say: "Yeah, trying to marry the worldbuilding of Arcane to the established Runeterra worldbuilding does not work, because of the magic." Runeterra so far was always a fairly high magic world - at least that was implied by comics and short stories. Magic was a common thing in this world. Otherwise we could not have that many magic champions and a whole place whose entire thing it had been: "We are anti-magic Nazis building mage concentration camps!"

When Riot said, that Arcane was now the main canon, A LOT of fans of the lore were like: "You get that it is not gonna work." And yeah, Arcane Season 2 clearly shows how it doesn't work.

Because the way they put in the entire "Mel is magic, also the Black Rose is a thing" stuff just... It did not fit in the entire plot around it. Because Arcane had been designed as a world where magic was very rare and strange. But now Mel had to be magic and somehow had to be connected to the Black Rose.

Also... What the fuck even happened there in the end? Why put that in? Why make Mel go against LaBlanc? I am sorry, but that was simply too much for this plot. The entire Black Rose stuff stuck out of this plot like - pardon the pun - a thorn.

Generally there are several relationships that feel, like they had at one point been a whole more explored, but then got dropped to the wayside.

As I said, Sevika and Jinx are definitely an example. Ekko and Heimerdinger as well. I also feel like what was episode 7 of the show was probably originally more than one episodes and slower paced - though it still to me was the one episode in this, that kinda worked in of itself. And that the Ekko and Jinx relationship was better established.

I also feel that Viktor and that echo of Skye was probably at some point supposed to actually have talks. Like: "I will miss talking to you." - "No, you won't." Okay? THEN SHOW ME THEM TALKING PLEASE?!

Which kinda brings me down to the main thing that happened because of the pacing issue. Season 2 of Arcane knew only two extremes in terms of "Show, don't tell". Either it goes full "music video" in whcih indeed it just shows us shit without context or dialogue - or we get the information just via dialogue, in a complete tell.

This also shows in the last episode, with the entire thing of Piltover asking the Zaunites for help, after brutally surpressing them forever. Yeah, I see where they were going with this. About being the bigger people and planting seeds and what not. But frankly, there might have been a time and space for a story like that, if properly told (you know, with giving more of the Zaunites a voice in this story, showing more of the conflict and spacing this plot out over several episodes). But a) it was not properly told, and b) a world in which several genocides happen while Trump somehow won a second term is not that world. Yes, b) is not the fault of anyone working on Arcane. That was simply bad luck on their part. But a) is very much their fault - and even if we did not have a Palestinian Genocide and no second Trump term: Without a) being done properly, it would not have worked. It would have just not felt quite as miserable.

You know, the most frustrating thing about this was, that... While I think that one way or another I would still have hated how the show handles the topic of disability (again, I will write about this during the next few days), I generally might have liked the same plot, if it had been given the needed space to breathe.

Like... Sure, I would have never really been on board with "fascist Caitlyn", or rather with "fascist Caitlyn, who gets then forgiven by everyone". But I could have somewhat swallowed it, if that forgiveness had to be earned. But because of the breakneck speed of this show, it never got earned. I am not even talking about redemption arcs here - those are always a headache - but specifically about the fact that Caitlyn gets instantly forgiven by everyone.

Also, lol. The entire thing with Ekko convincing Jinx to come along off-screen. That was unelegant.

Heck, it feels in the first four episodes, as if there was an arc being set up for Sevika in general. And it feels like that arc needed to happen, given that Sevika ends up on the COUNCIL OF PILTOVER in the epilogue. However, that Arc just does not happen. Then, like... why set it up?

That is general the issue. There is a lot of set-up and very, very little payoff to any of it.

And here is the thing. I have heard people argue about whether or not this was meant to have more seasons. But frankly: I do not think that the writers who wrote season 1 would have written this story this way had they known it would be two seasons.

Mind you, compared to some people I would not rate the writing in season 1 higher than maybe 6 or 7 of 10. It was solid, but not overwhelmingly great. But season 2 in comparison is a 2 of 10, maybe a 3 of 10, if I am being gracious.

And frankly, I do not think any writer, who is in any way worth their salt, would write a story where a main character goes evil, and then do exactly nothing with it. I mean, sorry, us writers, we are a dramatic bunch. And we will not resist the drama being served on a silver platter unless we are forced too. I cannot imagine a single writer, who will go with the end of episode 3 and then not write a bunch of angst with Caitlyn and Vi - unless they were forbidden.

And mind you, CaitVi is by far the ship I am least invested in. But it is simply such a glaring example of where the plot is rushed in a way that it hinders the character arcs.

Oh, and also... Lest. Lest in the first six episodes clearly felt like a character, who was going to play a role. Only to then disappear to not be seen again during the finale. What happened to Lest? Is she dead? Is she alive? I guess we'll never know.

*sighs* I am sorry. I really am. I am just... very disappointed. This has been a mess. And I think it would not have needed to be.

Like, the animation is still the most pretty thing ever made in the world. But man... The plot? The plot sucks balls. And not in the sexy way.

[jhilsara]

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 2

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: A year after you meet Spencer and become friends, life continues to throw curve balls. A hot summer with a broken AC, another festive Halloween, and many of your southern quirks to keep Spencer's spirits high.

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, Mentions of Emily Prentiss funeral

Previous|Next

The one where Spencer cuts his hair   

Summer is so close and you’re already feeling the heat. To be fair, the giant windows don’t really help the temperature of the store when it’s been hours of the sun beating down. Or that the sun's staying up until your shift starts now. Unlike in the fall and winter when it’s dark by six in the evening. Your shift always starts so warm and humid, the electric bill is already skyrocketing and it’s not even July yet.  

Not to mention summer is the busy season outside of the holidays. So many students are free for the summer and pinning for activities. You sigh knowing you need to start planning for that.   

You're fanning yourself with a handheld fan when the doors chime open.   

“Welcome to the Midnight Owl, let me know if-” you cut yourself off with a loud gasp as you see who’s entered.   

“Spencer Reid, you cut your hair!” you hurry around the front desk counter to look him over.   

Spencer’s face lights up with an embarrassed flush. His hands wring the straps of his worn leather bag.    

“It was just getting too hot for the length...” He tries to justify.   

“No no no! It looks good! I’m just surprised is all.” you reply with a tease. your hand twitches and you stop yourself from ruffling his hair. His pout was enough to keep your teasing to a minimum.   

He scratches the back of his head nervously. Averting his gaze from your piercing eyes.   

You bite your lip holding back a snicker, you know he’s probably been teased all day, so you give him a break. You don’t know exactly what Spencer does for his job, but you do know he and his coworkers are close. So, you aren’t surprised that he already feels a little self-conscious. You're sure they teased him to death.   

“It looks great Spencer.” you say softer, “Very handsome.” you smiled in affirmation.   

If Spencer wasn’t red before he surely was now. His hands tighten on his satchel bag and his eyes quickly look down before shifting back up.  

“Thanks.” He murmured quietly.   

“You’re drinks on me today; you look like you’ve been teased enough.” you say making your way to the drink counter.   

“Thanks, you have no idea...” he replied with a roll of his eyes and a small smile turning his lips.  

Spencer looks around and notices the shop is pretty empty tonight, no regulars, just him. Not even a random patron perusing the isles. Even the music playing overhead seems quieter than normal. He’s a bit thankful for that.  

You're making his drink, which you are giving him your homemade sweet tea. It’s far too hot for his normal hot coffee, no matter what he protests. You’ve put enough sugar in the tea to satisfy Spencer’s sweet tooth. Plus, you’re not sure he’s ever had traditional sweet tea.   

You come around the corner and hand him a glass as well as one for yourself. You look over Spencer who’s standing in his work clothes, cardigan and all and you make a mild face of disgust.   

“It’s too warm in here for you to be wearing that. It’s gonna be hotter than hell this week and I need a better air conditioner unit.” Your accent seeps through every word and Spencer finds himself smiling into his drink before he can even bother to respond.   

“I see your face Spencer, I don’t wanna hear it about my southernisms.” you point an accusing finger at him. “I’m serious about how hot it’s gonna be. These windows make the whole store like a greenhouse!” you mumble in irritation.  

Spencer just finds himself laughing and shaking his head. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just a little ridiculous how the windows are the bane of your existence.”   

You roll your eyes and places your hands on your hips, “It’s not the windows, it’s summer.” you said the season like it’s personally offended her. Making a blegh noise along with it.   

Spencer raises a brow at that, “What did summer ever do to you?” he asked.   

You raise a brow, “Listen, you try growing up in the Georgia heat and humidity your whole life and you tell me how you feel about summer. Especially swamp ass, do you know what swamp ass even is Spencer?” you say in a huff.   

Spencer snorts and almost spits out his sweet tea. “Excuse me?” his voice pitches in disbelief.   

“It’s the foulest experience where you sweat so much it soaks down your back. So, imagine that every summer of your whole childhood.” you state with a face of disgust.  

Spencer can only find himself laughing at how intense you are.  

“I’m so serious, there’s a reason I moved away from the pit of Satan's armpit, okay?” you hiss out in mild annoyance.   

“I thought it was so you had better doctors for your dad?” he accuses with a raised brow.  

You shrug nonchalantly and drinks from your sweet tea again, “That too.”  

“Come on, it won’t be that bad. Besides you actively only get the sun in these windows for an hour, maybe two tops. You work the night shift.”   

You glare at him, it’s not serious, but Spencer is trying very hard not to laugh. “Go look at the thermostat then and tell me what is says versus what it’s on.” you demand gesturing to the wall behind you.   

He rolls his eyes at your dramatics but does as you’ve asked. Spencer walks behind to look over the temperature. “It’s on 78.”   

“Yeah? What is it set to Spencer?”   

“...68.” he murmurs.   

You slam your hands on the counter, “That’s a ten-degree difference! It’s too hot!”  

You slide dramatically to the ground and release a fake sob. “I’m gonna burn up in here, melt like the wicked witch of the west!”   

Spencer crosses his arms as he stands above you, “Maybe, have you thought of purchasing a box fan?” he questions.   

You look up at him, your eyes brimming with fake tears. He’s actually impressed by your commitment to this. You would have been a wonderful stage actress.  

“My last one didn’t survive the whole summer, and it only works if I stay behind the counter... Spencer you know I move around too much!” you whine.   

“Have you tried changing the unit filter?”  

You stop being dramatic and stand up quickly. “I just assumed Josie did... oh my god, I’ve never once looked at the filter.” you murmured.   

You excuse yourself to go into the back and check the closet. Spencer stays up at the front leaning against the desk, his arms crossed as he just shakes his head in disbelief.   

“Oh my good GOD! Eeeewww!!”  

You come bolting back around and grab your phone, quickly typing out a text message.   

“Spencer it’s pitch black I don’t think anyone’s ever changed it!” You look sick in the face; pale as can be.   

“Oh my god, I need to wash my hands, I didn’t even touch it, but Jesus Christ was that disgusting.” You quickly shuffle past him and go to the bathroom, scrubbing away at your hands.   

Spencer spends the next five minutes doubled over laughing at how dramatic you are. Until you makes him go look at the filter. Then he was the one scrubbing away at his own hands in disgust.   

He’s at least ninety percent sure he saw a moth staring back at him.  

-  

It’s July and you’re still suffering. While changing the filter of the bookstores AC unit helped, it still didn’t fix the greenhouse problem.   

You're at the front, box fan at your feet, fanning yourself with a hand fan, a giant cup of ice water from the cafe area, and you’re reasonably stripped into something comfortable, well, as much as you can be. Which is a sports tank and running shorts. It’s your store, you don’t care about an arbitrary dress code that you don’t enforce anyway. Besides, everything that needs to be covered is. You have a massive flannel shirt hanging off the back of your chair, just in case you think you need to be more modest.  

The store has been pretty hectic and busy since the summer season started, the events they’ve been hosting were popular. Not to mention the Pride event she threw in June, with a mini pop-up cocktail bar. That weekend it might as well have been almost a club. Not to mention the drag show you helped throw, or the drag performers reading for children in the day. Honestly June was festive as ever. Now though, halfway through July, it’s dead inside the store at night. July meant vacations, so all of your locals were at the beach or the mountains. Some even in Europe. So, your nights were uncommonly quiet, well, except for the occasional tourist and Spencer. Which he only visits when he’s free or can’t sleep. Which isn’t as much as you would like, but just because your sleep schedule sucks doesn’t mean you should wish it upon others.   

You don’t get too much free time to hang out with your friends anymore since co-owning the bookstore, but to be fair most of your friends were your coworkers. Besides that, all your other friends are still in Georgia. You could call them, and try to plan a time to visit, but life is hectic. With the constant doctor’s visits on top of your busy schedule with the shop, it’s rare you have time for yourself.  

In fact, the last thing you did was go out with your coworkers to go see Eclipse in theaters. Which while, fun, you haven’t been out for yourself in what feels like years. You try to brush off the too familiar feeling of dread creeping into your head. Your life really revolves around the bookstore and your dad.  

It just gets so lonely in the shop from time to time. You reach for your cell phone and open the notification from the family group chat. It’s a few photos of the beach from your sister and her boyfriend. You feel the wave of jealousy rising in your throat and pushing your phone away from you. It’s not Bridget’s fault you’re stuck working around the clock, but good lord, would you kill for a vacation. Just once, you would like to not spend your waking hours thinking about your dad’s health.   

You sigh and lean against the counter, arms dangling over dramatically.    

You take some solace in knowing your sister has at least been with this new guy for about a year now...which means that maybe you should remember his name. John? Jacob? Jackson? That sounded vaguely correct. To be fair your sister rarely kept a man around long enough to remember his name.   

Your phone dings again and you don't have it in yourself to even look. You want to be at a beach, or really anywhere else. You lift your head to check the clock and almost cry when you see it’s not even midnight.   

The shop's phone rings, and the noise is so loud it makes you practically jump out of your skin. You quickly pick up the phone, begging for something.   

“Hello, this is the Midnight Owl, how can I help you?” your voice chimes happily through the phone.   

“I hoped you were working; it’s Spencer.” His voice is soft, almost like he’s whispering.  

“Oh! Hey, I thought you were out on a job?” you asked.   

He hums in acknowledgement, “I am, I just,” he sighs, “I needed a break.”   

“Oh.” you lean casually against the counter. “Trouble in paradise?”   

He scoffs, “Something like that. It’s been a long day.” you hear how tired he sounds in his voice.   

“When do you come home?”  

“Hopefully tomorrow...” he whispers.   

“Have you gotten any sleep?” you ask softly. You shift and move to stand up a bit straighter, concern written all over your features.   

The silence from the other line tells you enough, he hasn’t slept much if at all. “Spencer...” you said his name in a slight disapproval, but your tone is soft at the edges.  

“I’ll sleep when I get home.” he said firmly.   

“Spencer, I’d feel better if you slept now .” you tell him, chastising him like a child.   

“Kind of hard with my job.” He jokes.   

“You never told me what you do? You see me at my job all the time. Kind of unfair if you ask me.” you tease him.   

“You don’t need to worry about it, it’s just stressful and involves a lot of traveling last minute.”  

“So vague, but I’ll accept it for now.”   

Spencer changes the subject quickly. “Are you reading the book I gave you?”   

“Changing the subject I see... but yes, I am. It’s getting me through the very lonely hours. It’s a ghost town in here...”you said.   

“Is it still hot?”   

“ Yes . If my hair wasn’t already pulled back, I’d think about cutting it off. It’s honestly miserable if I leave the safety of the fan. I’ve called someone to come look, it can’t be normal that it’s 80 degrees in here.”   

“How soon can someone come out?”   

“Not until next week.” you whine. “I’m tempted to just shove myself in the small walk-in freezer we have in the very back...I’m afraid it’ll lock me in though.” you joke.   

Spencer chuckles, “Maybe don’t do that. I’d hate to come back and you’re a popsicle.”  

He heard you gasp, “That’s it! We should sell popsicles next week. Spencer, you are a genius!” you exclaim.   

“Technically, yes I am.” he teases.   

“Shut up, just get home soon. I’m bored outta my mind here. I’m almost done with the massive book you gave me. That’s how bored I am.”   

You can almost see him rolling his eyes at you.   

“Noted, next time I’ll make sure to send someone to check on you.”   

“...Not funny.” You pout. You check the time; you’ve only been talking to Spencer for a little over an hour.   

“Where are you this time?” you asked.  

“Georgia...ironically enough.”   

“Ohhhhhh, south or north? Actually, it doesn’t matter. How is the humidity?" You sound all too enthusiastic to ask him.   

“...Wet.”  

You hum, “So I guess you’ve experienced the sweat pouring down your back into your ass crack?”   

“...I wouldn’t have phrased it like that, but yes. It’s been a sweaty week.”   

“Sweatin’ like a sinner in church as my daddy would say.” you add in a light playful tone.  

“Anyway, besides coffee the only thing I’ve had to drink is sweet tea. Which, while it is good, yours is better.” he admits.   

“You’re just trying to butter me up, and it’s working. What do you want?” you asked.   

He sighs, “Can’t get anything past you.”   

“Think of it as my own older sibling senses, it’s like a mom but better.”  you said casually.   

“Could you please pick up my mail? I haven’t been in my apartment for a few weeks. I’ve had back-to-back work trips.” he asks tentatively.  

You snort, “Of course I will, your apartments just down the street! What are friends for?”   

“I owe you.”  

“No, you don’t. You’d do the same for me. I’ll let you know if anything is a pressing matter.”   

“You know opening my mail is a federal crime, right?” He jokes.   

“Mmmm if you find out I went through it.” you tease.   

“Y/N-”   

“Relax! I’m just joking. Your mail will be waiting, unopened, when you come back tomorrow.”  

“Thanks, I have to go but, goodnight.”  

“Night Spencer.”  

As you hang up, you’re left with the overly warm bookstore and the quiet emptiness of it. You still have hours to go and can only hope someone comes to ease the boredom. You look down at the book Spencer lent and see the roughly two hundred pages left to read. You pick up your sticky notes and a pen and decide to finish it before seeing him again. It’s not like you have anything else to do besides sweat.  

You really hate summer.  

The one about Halloween (part 2 electric boogaloo)  

October is by far, one of, if not, your favorite months of the year. There’s something about the confirmation of the crisp air letting you know it’s finally that time of year. The leaves changing, the smell of apples, caramel, and pumpkin filling the bakery, it all makes you nostalgic for your childhood.  

You have so many memories of running through the backyard leaves with Birdie, carving pumpkins with your daddy and sewing makeshift costumes with your momma. You remember the year you hand sewed a cat tail onto a ballet leotard and how proud you were that you had done it all by yourself. You loved trick-or-treating with your baby sister and dragging her up to houses with scary themes. Bridget always cried but you knew how to make her see the silliness of it all.   

The wind reminds you of how you’d parade around the neighborhood with your friends and bike around the cul-de-sac. Your heavy flannel flapping behind you as you could smell the leaves and rain. You truly missed the biting cold chill air that came with the turn of the season and stores filling up with decorations. How you would wait all day long for your favorite movie to play on cable during sleepovers.   

You give a wistful sigh, maybe you just miss the last moments of when your family was still close, before it fell apart before your eyes. That last Halloween when you were thirteen was so fun, but it just leaves a weird sour taste in your mouth now, like a granny smith apple.   

The bitter feeling that creeps up your throat makes you nauseous. You need coffee... or a sedative.  

You’re just far too busy trying to keep the festive activities alive, to think about childhood right now. There is a trunk or treat to plan for the neighborhood block. All the small businesses were going to barricade off the road for trick or treaters the night of Halloween. You really needed to think of a theme to decorate the back of the shop's minivan. It offered so much potential; you wanted the theme to be fun but still bookish. Maybe it could be Harry Potter? It was festive enough and based on a children's book series.   

The costume wouldn’t be that hard either, you could easily dress as Hermione or any student really. All you needed was robes and a wand. Plus, you’re pretty crafty, you could easily make props for the car and get some tea lights.   

You shoot a text to the group chat of coworkers who want to participate and let them know the car theme will be Harry Potter.   

It’s a quick choice, but it’s fitting enough. One that’s easy to dress for too. You definitely have house robes from when your friends from home went to Universal Studios during opening weekend. It was a wonderful souvenir gift and belated birthday present that they had chipped in to give. A wonderful Hufflepuff robe and matching scarf. You wished you could have gone with them, but knowing they were thinking about you was enough.  

You try to come up with something else that needs to be done, any other activity to focus on for the store. You’d rather keep your mind busy than look at the sterile walls of the hospital you were in.  

Maybe that’s why you were being so nostalgic right now, it was easier to think of a happier time than where you are now.  

You look at the time and groan to yourself, you’ve been in the waiting room of the doctor’s office for the past hour, and you had no idea how long you were going to be there.  

Your nerves are shot, and your leg is still bouncing nervously. Your dad had finally agreed with his doctors that he needed to be in physical therapy twice a week. This is the first week he’s doing two sessions, and you wanted to stay this time. You're just worried, but you’ve always worried.   

The sad look the check-in nurse, Susan, gives you every time you come in fills you with such rage that you had to bite the inside of your cheek not to yell at the woman. You and your daddy didn’t need pity. He was sick, and it was your job to take care of him. You didn’t need pitiful looks. Pity didn’t pay the medical bills and they sure as hell weren’t going to cure your dad.   

You plug your ears with headphones and open your iTunes to listen to music. You just need a distraction. You dig around in your purse and pull out the new book you’re reading, Warm Bodies. Maybe getting lost in this weird retelling of Romeo and Juliet with zombies will help you pass the time. From the parts you’ve read you've found it pretty humorous. A fun little Shakespearean retelling. It was perfect for the spooky season anyway.   

You try to settle into the most uncomfortable chair and begin reading.   

You pass another gruelingly long hour that way, reading about R and Julie. Reading about this zombie man slowly regaining his humanity, his sense of self... it’s almost jokingly painful that you wish love could easily cure your dad as it does R.   

You suddenly remembered how much you hated Shakespeare.  

-  

It’s finally Halloween and you’re manning the van with candy and handing it out to tiny children all dressed in fun colorful costumes. You're standing there with three of your coworkers, who have decided to be Professor Dumbledor, Professor McGonigal, and the Dark Lord respectively.   

The lights on the street are glowing green, orange, and purple. There’s a small fog machine hooked up next to the store’s van, and the speaker from the music store’s booth is blaring the best ambient music. It’s quite a festivity.  

As much as you want to be, you’re not in the best mood. You’re absolutely beaming at the kids and laughing with your coworkers, but you’ve been in a bit of a mood. Spencer said he was going to help you, but he had a last-minute work call. You're trying to not let it be a mood killer, and on the surface it’s believable. You're a little sad though you aren’t getting to spend it with him. They’ve been talking about spooky and fall themed activities for the past month. Spencer had agreed to spend Halloween with you, since no one he knew seemed to share his enthusiasm for the holiday.   

You've seen hordes of kids come and go all night. Ghosts, cats, vampires, sparkling vampires, and lots of fashionable monsters in bright neon colors. Monster High? you think it is what the kids said they were.   

You look down and see the bottom of the candy bucket and the last few kids going from car to car.   

“I got this if you guys want to go home tonight.” you tell your employees.   

"You sure? We don’t mind.” the cashier Keri, Professor McGonigal, states.   

“I’m positive, I’m just gonna close these doors and lock up for the night. It’s a tomorrow problem to clean up along with the rest of store decorations.” you just shrug and wave them off.   

“Happy Halloween!”  

“This was fun, have a good night!”   

“Night!”  

You wave off your three employees and give the last little trick or treater the rest of the candy in the bowl. The rest of the block is packing up as well.  

You shove the tables and chairs unceremoniously into the back of the van and easily park it behind the store.   

That’s a problem for Josie in the morning or you tomorrow night.   

You walk in through the back entrance and turn on a few of the front lights. You turn the sign to closed and lock the front door. Your only goal right now is to take down the Halloween decorations so it’s a clean slate in the morning.   

You were on a ladder pulling ghosts from the ceiling when you heard a knock on the glass of the store.   

“We are CLOSED !” you shout, your accent seeping through. You could not bother to be polite for the rest of the night. You just wanted to shower, put on your favorite Halloween movie, Casper, and go to sleep.   

There’s another tap at the window, more persistent.   

“I said we are closed!” you yank the ghost hanging from the ceiling and turn to glare at the person through the glass, but all the anger leaves your body.   

Spencer stands there, waving with a timid smile and pointing at his watch.   

You scramble down from the ladder and throw open the door, “What are you doing here? I thought you had a work call?” you asked in confusion.   

“We have tickets for a phantasmagoria show, I wasn’t going to miss that!” He said excitedly, “Are you ready? It starts at ten.”   

You just blink for a moment before your face splits into a grin and nod, “Yeah, yeah, just let me change out of this real quick and we can go.” you said looking down at your Hogwarts robes.   

Spencer finally looks at what you’re wearing and gives a small grin, lightly touching your scarf and humming.   

“Hufflepuff makes sense.” He murmurs softly.   

Your face bursts into a flush before you swat Spencer away and turn to scurry off to change.   

Halloween was always your favorite holiday.   

The one with migraines    

Spencer can’t keep fighting through these migraines. He’s lying on the couch of his apartment in the middle of the day, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes to add pressure. He finds no relief.  

The doctor was useless, and he genuinely feels irritated and at a loss.   

Then he remembers your hands softly stroking through his hair. His eyes flew open, and he pressed the heels of his palm to his eyes, rubbing them raw. He can feel the heat of embarrassment on his neck as he thought about your soft hands running through his scalp. He presses his palms harder and still finds no relief.  

He sits up quickly and calls you.   

“Spencer?” Your voice is soft and groggy; you sounded like you just woke up.   

“Sorry, were you asleep?” he asked sheepishly.   

“It’s okay, I was napping. What’s wrong?” He can hear you shift around, moving blankets probably.   

“I, uh,” he suddenly feels embarrassed. Spencer sighs, “I keep having awful migraines. I’m at a loss and I’ve just been irritated because my head won’t stop pounding.”  

“Ohhhhhh. Been there before.” you said quietly. “Do you want me to come over? I can do all my tricks. I have like, a ritual if my meds don’t work.” you offered.  

“Please.” He finds himself asking you in a small voice.  

“Don’t have to ask twice, I’ll be over. Go ahead and boil a tea kettle though- you'll want a warm drink.” you’re more awake now, your voice sounding concerned, “I’ll be there soon.”   

You don’t live that far away, but it’s still at least a fifteen-minute drive, with no traffic. You make it over in roughly twenty, and you give a small tentative knock on his door. When Spencer lets you in, he sees that you’re in your lounge clothes with a hoodie and baggy sweatpants. You're holding a Walgreens bag that is packed to the brim. Your appearance is a little disheveled, almost as if you were rushing, as your hair is pulled back, your glasses are almost falling off your face.   

“Go change into something comfortable, you don’t want to be in work clothes with a migraine.” you chastise him and shoo him off to his bedroom.   

Spencer holds his hands up in defeat and does as he’s told. Immediately scurrying into his room to change into something more comfortable.   

You get to work while you’re in his apartment. You close all of his curtains, blocking out the bright sunlight. You make your way over to the air conditioning unit and turn it down to a crisp 66 degrees and turn the ceiling fan on. You go into the kitchen and start to unpack the Walgreens bag of goodies. You’ve brought a few freezable ice packs, an eye mask, and some over the counter pain killers. You brought them just in case, you weren’t sure if Spencer was someone who preferred medicine or not. You had no problem taking four ibuprofen pills but that was you.   

Spencer opens the door and he's in sweats and a T-shirt. He sees you moving around his kitchen with ease, grabbing two mugs and making tea. You have some honey out and pour a healthy amount into each mug. Your brow is furrowed in concentration as you work.   

“Go sit on the couch, I’m coming with a mug.” you direct him softly holding two mugs in your hands.   

Spencer shuffles his feet over to the couch and plops down shutting his eyes tightly. You press the warm mug in his hand, setting yours on the coffee table. You move back to the kitchen to turn off the light and grab a sleep mask and the medicine.   

“Drink this, it’ll make you feel better. I turned down your air conditioning and I brought a sleep mask for you, to help block out the light.” you tell him.   

He nods and moves to drink the tea, it’s sweet from the honey but it does immediately relieve some pressure, at least mentally.   

“I brought some ibuprofen; I take 800 milligrams or take my migraine medication to stop mine. But sometimes you just need really good cold sleep. Mine just make me nauseous, so I need the meds.”   

Spencer shakes his head no, “I don’t want to take any pain killers, not right now anyway.” he whispers.   

You nod, “That’s okay. Just finish your tea and then lay down. I’m gonna help you get some sleep okay?”   

Spencer nods his head and takes a deep breath drinking from his mug. He feels awful, the pounding in his skull won’t stop.  

“Is it always this awful?” he asked, looking at you with his wide eyes, brows turned down in a sad expression.   

You rub his arm in affection, “Sometimes? Mine are triggered a lot by the weather or sometimes I don’t even know. I do know I’ve gotten optical migraines too, and those suck even more.”  

He’s listening to you, but he’s not enjoying the facts. He can read about migraines all day long, but hearing from someone else the same experiences he has sucks.   

“When did you start getting them?”   

You hum in thought, “When I was thirteen... right before my momma left.”  

“Did she get them a lot? You’re mom?” Spencer finishes his cup and sets it down.  

You put a pillow on your lap and push Spencer down. You hand him the eye mask to put on. Spencer complies easily and his long legs dangle a little over the edge of the couch, but he’s comfortable. You run your hands lightly through Spencer’s short hair, like you’ve done before in the bookstore. Spencer hums contently.   

“She did... Her’s were worse. Always in the bathroom puking from them. She’d have to be in bed all day until it ended.” you whisper.   

“Are yours that bad?” Spencer’s voice is just as quiet to match yours. He’s relaxing into your touch, feeling the pressure lighten from his head.   

“No, but I get worried sometimes when I get nauseous, ya know? I’m always worried they’re gonna get as bad as mommas did. And I can’t imagine being stuck in bed all day.” you said sadly.   

Spencer’s quiet as you mention your mother. It reminds him of his own fear he’s been trying to avoid thinking about. He’s reminded of his doctor's visit, and it irritates him. He knows there is something happening with him, the way he feels his skull pulsating like his brain is trying to jump out of his body is reason enough.   

It’s not psychosomatic. He knows it's not.  

“You okay? I just felt you tense up.” you ask him softly.   

“Fine, just...thinking.” he mumbles.   

You give a soft chuckle, your soft hands still massaging his scalp gently. “I know it must be hard for you, being a genius and all, but I really need you to shut your brain off. Go to sleep alright?” you demanded gently.   

He gives a scoff but tries to settle down. He focuses heavily on your hands and how soft it is. The couch starts to melt under him and your quiet hums, that he isn’t even sure that you know you’re doing, finally sending him off to sleep.   

When Spencer finally wakes up, his headache is gone. He finally feels back to normal. He moves to remove his eye mask, but he finds the room is almost just as dark. His eyes adjust and he realizes he’s alone on the couch. Where you were is just a pillow and there’s a soft blanket laid over him and he smells something being cooked.   

Spencer stretches his body and moves to sit up, looking into the kitchen. You’re quietly shuffling around. The only light being from the microwave above the stovetop. He can hear the sizzling of whatever you're cooking, it smells great.   

You hear him moving around and turns to send him a smile, “How you feelin’?” you asked, tilting your head trying to assess him.   

Spencer stands and makes his way into the kitchen, trying to find out what smells so good. “A lot better. I’ve had that headache for two days.”   

Your brows shot up in surprise, “You should have told me sooner Spencer. I woulda helped.” you chastise him.   

“Was away for work, couldn’t.” he informs making his way behind you to peer over your shoulder at the stove top.   

“What are you making? It smells great.”  

You straighten up a bit with a wide grin. “That would be my favorite comfort food, especially after feelin’ like shit. My very fatty, very southern, biscuits and gravy.” your accent seeps through, as you exaggerate it, trying to prove a point.   

Spencer just snorts a laugh and moves back, “Is it almost done?”   

You roll your eyes, “You’ve been awake for less than five minutes and you’re already starving.”   

Spencer just ignores her comment looking at the stove top to check the time, it’s later than he imagined. “Is it really nine o clock? Shouldn’t you be at the bookstore?” he presses in concern.   

You shake your head, “I called out; besides, I always work the night shift. Someone else can or we can handle being closed for one night.” you tell him casually.   

“You could have left, really, I would have been fine.” He tries to tell you.   

You shake your head and move to get the biscuits out of the oven. “Spencer really, it’s not a big deal. You called for help and I’m staying until you shoo me out, I wasn’t just gonna leave without saying anything.”   

You shook your head in mild disbelief and went to make plates for both of them. Spencer just finds himself standing there gawking. You wanted to stay until you knew he was okay. He feels his heart clench at that, and he brushes it away. He doesn’t think he can handle whatever emotion is creeping in at the edges, cracking his carefully crafted foundation.  

You gently smack his hand and nod to the counter. “Go sit down, it’s almost done.”  

Spencer does as he’s told and moves to the other side of the counter and takes a seat on one of the stools. It doesn’t take much longer for you to plate the food and slide it across to him. You place one for yourself next to him and grab two glasses of water.   

Spencer and you eat in amicable silence enjoying their meal. Then you break the silence.   

“Have you seen anyone about your recent migraines?” you asked him.   

Spencer’s silent as he paused eating. His body tenses up and you wonder if you have hit a sore spot.   

“I saw a doctor and got an MRI done.” he said, voice tense.   

“I’m guessing you didn’t like the results?” you prod treading cautiously.  

“The results were nothing. There was nothing showing up in my brain... the doctor said it was psychosomatic.” he whispered, a bitter tone in his voice.   

“Then it probably isn’t anything to worry so much about Spencer.” you said, moving to rub his back gently.   

“It can’t be psychosomatic, I’m not- I'm not crazy.” he said firmly.   

The tone was the most aggressive you’ve ever heard from Spencer and your eyebrows raised.   

“Spencer, I’m not calling you crazy sweetheart.” you tell him calmly. “Are you, are you worried that you are?”   

Spencer’s body is tense, and he covers his face with his hands. “Did you know schizophrenia is hereditary? That it shows up around your late twenties?”   

“Oh, oh. ” you realized what his actual problem was now.  

“Spencer, the odds of you having it are low. It can run in families but it’s more complicated than that.” you told him in a reassuring voice.   

“I know that, but-” he stops himself, not looking at you.   

“Spencer,” you said his voice soft and calm. “It’s okay. You’re okay . I promise.” you continue to rub his back reassuringly. “If you feel this intense about it, then get a second opinion.”   

He nods, finally looking up at you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”   

You shake your head, “It’s something you’re worried about and it’s okay to voice that.”   

Spencer moves and pulls you into a tight hug.  

“Thanks for listening.” he murmured into your hair.   

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Anytime.” you whisper.  

The one after Emily’s funeral   

You are outside Spencer’s door shuffling on your feet. You’ve been debating for the past fifteen minutes on whether you should even knock on his door.   

You haven’t seen him in a month... you’re a little more than worried. If it wasn’t for the single word response texts you were getting from him, you’d think he was dead.   

The rain pattering on the window of his apartment's hallway is the only background noise you have besides the buzzing of the fluorescents above you. You’re pacing back and forth debating on if this is a good idea or not. He would ask if he needed help, right? They were friends... He’s kind of the only real friend you've made since you came to Virginia. Well, besides Josie.   

You take a deep centering breath and find your resolve. you knock on his door.   

When Spencer emerges from his apartment, you’re taken aback. He only opens the door a crack, but it’s enough for you to see the state he’s in. His eyes are dark and rimmed red. He’s in rumpled up sweater and sweatpants. His hair is up in different directions, he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. Not to mention the faint beard that’s growing in. His eyes find yours slowly, and he looks a bit taken aback and opens the door more.  

“Oh Spencer, honey,” you step forward and pull him into a warm hug. You feel him melt into your touch.   

“You look awful, what happened?” You’re blunt but Spencer doesn’t seem to mind it, he hasn’t let go to tell you otherwise.   

Spencer’s been holed up in his apartment. When he’s not working, he just burrows away. Penelope and JJ have called a few times. Checking in on him. He’s kept those conversations short. He can’t find it in him to talk about Emily with his friends yet. Not when he can still feel the weight of Emily’s casket; it almost bears down on his back in a way that feels crippling.   

Spencer’s so tired of losing people.  

Elle  

Gideon  

Emily  

How long until he loses the next person?  

Your warm body settles his nerves, and he can feel the irritation that buzzed at the harsh edges of his own soul ease. Spencer knows he looks like a wreck; he feels like one. He’s been in pajamas all weekend and barely has left his couch. When he does find himself getting any sleep, the only image he sees is Emily. Which, if he thinks about it for too long, he’s going to start sobbing again.   

“It’s a long story,” He finds himself barely able to say. His voice warbled and tiny.   

You somehow always know when something's wrong, like there is a homing device in your brain that rings letting you know he needs a reprieve.   

“Is there anything I can do for you?” you whisper as you rub soothing circles into his back, “I was coming to check on you, I just hadn’t seen you around in a while.”   

“Could you stay here,” he asked you timidly. “Just, just for a little while.”  

Spencer feels the fight leave his body; the argument built up that he was ready to unleash on anyone else. The prickles of irritation fog his head, almost turning into a migraine, seem to fade. The only thing left is exhaustion.   

You seem to always help him sleep, if he’s lucky, it won’t be another nightmare. He’s having more nightmares than ever. He'd love just a dreamless sleep, anything besides the nightmares, the territory that can with his job.   

He finally pulls back away from you and goes inside his apartment.   

You follow Spencer looking around his home. It’s dark and surprisingly messy. Not how you’re used to seeing Spencer’s apartment. His books are open and scattered along the floor near his large armchair. There’s empty, or rather half drank, coffee mugs scattered along his bookshelf or coffee table. There’s a large duvet half draped over the couch. You assume that’s probably where Spencer has spent most of his time, and the pile of laundry you see resting in the half open laundry room.   

It’s a depression cave.   

Spencer sluggishly goes into the kitchen and grabs a pot of coffee, before he can pour it you are gently prying it from his hands.   

“I think you’ve had plenty of caffeine.” you tell him softly.   

He makes a face but doesn’t fight you on it.   

“Go and take a hot shower, I’ll make you some tea alright? It’ll feel better than endless caffeine.” you tell him and gently push him out of the kitchen.   

You wait for Spencer to disappear into his bedroom before you let out a sigh and look around his apartment. You had her work cut out, that was for sure.   

You start by boiling a kettle of water and you start gathering the mugs from around the apartment. At least the ones in your immediate sight. You gather at least ten different mugs at various stages full of coffee. You put them in the sink first before moving on to looking for the chamomile that you know you’ve left here before for when he gets his migraines. You find it surprisingly quickly and grab it from the shelf where his coffee sits. You open it to find there’s only a few tea bags left. He must still be getting those migraines more than he lets on.   

You grab one, and a clean mug from his cabinet and set it aside. Still waiting for the water to heat up. You move onto the sink that’s overflowing and rolls up your sleeves to get started. You give a quick rinse and gently scrub the dishes before piling them into the dishwasher. By the time you're done the hot water is ready and the dishwasher is full.   

You wash your hands before making a cup of tea for him, making sure you add plenty of honey to accommodate his sweet tooth.   

You're in the middle of changing out his garbage when you hear Spencer reappear. He shuffles lazily out of his room in new clothes. He’s in a large Doctor Who tee with the Tardis on it, and flannel pajama pants that don’t fully reach his ankles. He’s also put on clean socks, two different ones with silly patterns.    

You give him a smile before handing him the mug of tea. “You look a lot better,” you said with a soft smile.   

Spencer just gives a shrug before sipping his tea. you follow him to the couch, and he wraps the duvet around his shoulders, making himself look so much smaller for a man that towered over you with his height.   

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked him.   

Spencer sighs and looks deep into his cup, like the tea would give him answers. Maybe if he believed in reading tea leaves and fortunes, but he wasn’t religious or superstitious by any means.  

“I lost a close friend, and it just...it’s been tough.” he said.   

“Oh Spencer,” you lean forward and hold one of his hands, “I’m so sorry. That- that can’t be easy.”   

He cried so much; he would think he didn’t have any more tears left. The blurry vision foggy up the edges of his sight tells otherwise.   

“I didn’t get to say goodbye...” he whispers out, trying to not sob again.   

You take a deep breath, you give Spencer a sad look before you whispered, “Sometimes we don’t get to say goodbye.” you replied quietly.   

“I’m so tired of people leaving with no warning-” he catches himself before he can finish, biting his tongue.   

You don’t pry, just let’s him go through the motions, trying to comfort him how you can.  

“I’m sorry Spencer.”  

Spencer leans against you and closes his eyes, “I hate change.” he murmured.   

You move your hand up to run through his hair gently, like you’ve done before.   

“I don’t either.” you whispered.   

Spencer grows quiet as you continue to stroke his hair. You hear his breathing finally settle and you know he’s asleep. You gently move to lay him down on the couch and go to work.   

Spencer’s home needed a deep clean, something to make it at least more bearable to come home to so he’s not so overwhelmed.   

You start with the laundry and work your way around the room as the washer and dryer run through load after load of clothes. The only spot you don’t feel comfortable touching is his books. That seemed like an organized chaos situation if you’ve ever seen one.   

Spencer sleeps for hours, so long that you find yourself dozing off after you're done cleaning. You slide yourself back onto the couch and curl up in the corner. You just go to close your eyes for a moment, you won’t spend the night.   

You dream of coffee, book pages, and a familiar purple scarf that makes its way in too.   

The morning sun comes in through a small opening of Spencer’s curtains and washes over the couch, bathing you and Spencer in its light. The two are curled into each other under the duvet on the couch and if either of them woke up at any point in the night and curled closer to the other, they would never know. 

[sometimesthingsgowrongokayy]

oh golly how do you make these things

jayvik tickle hcs because i can

(sparkle sparkle)

separate and then together, a few swears, one tiny suggestive bit on jayce’s

JAYCE

lee!

ohhh boy. jayce my bbaby. okay. so as a decently muscular man, hes gotta be at least a little ticklish.

i think his worst spots are probably the spots you can just latch onto and squeeze- thighs, ribs, knees, even shoulders.

my boy cannot take a massage. he has tried so hard but every single time he’s just a hiccuping snorty mess

speaking of hiccuping snorty mess. i think he has a lot of different laughs. when you get him really going it’s his usual deep belly laughter, loud and proud and so bright you’re gonna need sunglasses

but also i think if you have him for long enough his laugh changes pitch a lot. like it’ll go from low to super high, and he’s all like “hahahAHAHAHHHSGH OHGOD OH GOD OH GOHOHOD” and oough. bbg

if it’s less intense, he’s not really one to giggle, but he definitely hiccups. he scrunches his face all up and jerks around and flinches and snorts and covers his mouth with the back of his hand and.. ghrhrgh.. im going insane guys

i think he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t squirm too much but arches his back a lot. he doesn’t squirm back and forth, but he’s always folding like a lawn chair, forwards and backwards

with his hiccupy/snorty laughter, he’ll go silent for a few seconds, and his shoulders just bounce as his whole body shakes, face absolutely BURNING red

oh yeah and he’s a blusher. bigtime. he gets a little flustered at the fact he can get plucked apart so easily by something as silly as tickling. he doesn’t think its childish, per se, but certainly not something a grown man should be This weak to.

..and yeah, he likes it. he’s embarrassed about it, but won’t necessarily deny it. he kind of has a thing for going all dumb and happy and brainless. just made into a smiley little puddle of jayce

oh and his smile. i know these hcs are already so freaking long but his smilee he is always grinning. even just a poke and he’s already got a big dumb smile. he is literally the sun when being tickled, it’s absurd

i didnt even get into soft tickles yet what

okay so we all know his abs are sensitive. i think he might just die at some gentle fluttery fingers. same with his sides and back

hear me out. behind the knees. oh and biceps. and the underside of his arms in general. and his forearms. none of them are too bad, but he’ll still squirm a little if you just slowly trace your fingers over them

post-season-2(SPOILERS KINDA??) his wrist his mad sensitive from the crystal embedded in there.

all of his scars are sensitive too. i don’t think he has too many, but the ones he does have are Big and also very ticklish <3

all in all i think he’s very sensitive. he’s the type to be flinching and squirming at things that aren’t even supposed to be ticklish, like god this man cannot take a tummy rub. if someone’s hands are on him in a sensual manner he can’t hold back tiny little giggle-huffs.

whenever anyone’s hands are on his bare skin in any soft manner, he’s. he can’t. he is too ticklish to survive on this earth

okay im gonna stop myself there or im gonna be ranting for seven more paragraphs

ler!

this little shit oh my god

okay no i take that back. i feel like he would be a smug cocky little shit, but not always.

im sorry, i have to say it, engineer hands

i have less ler hcs than i do lee hcs for him but i do think he would be absurdly switchy. he’s the type of guy to just poke people at random whenever he’s bored or to prove a point

has a habit of digging. he’ll find a nice meaty spot and just squeeze it lighting fast for about a second and then give you a teensy little break before doing the exact same thing again

he can be a little merciless though. he doesn’t realize just how good he is at tickling, he just thinks everyone who he tickles is mad sensitive

its hilarious though. he’ll be like “How did I never know you were this ticklish?!” and the lee will be like I DIDN’T KNOW EITHER HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS-

his hands are going all over the place, too. if he has a really handsy/squirmy lee, he’ll just keep switching spots every time they go to defend something. arms glue to their sides? okay, he’ll switch to their knees. legs pull up? okay, neck now. shoulders scrunch? ooh, armpits are fun!

he is such a menace and doesn’t even realize it

he’s crazy playful. mostly back in academy days, but if you can get close enough to him as the man of progress, and he has some free time, he’s so freaking playful its wonderful

he thinks its fun, and he likes seeing people’s stress just melt away. he will get a little worried if you tell him to stop, though, and pulls back a little if you do. he doesn’t wanna hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

definitely pokes people a lot but doesn’t actually engage in full attacks all that often. usually he has to be pretty close friends with someone to do that.

he’s very gentle with viktor when he tickles him, sometimes a little too gentle. it’s agony

VIKTOR

lee!

okay im gonna say it now before the thought leaves my brain. ticklish ears

he’s a lot more keen to light tickles as rougher stuff just kinda hurts a lot of the time or gets him really overwhelmed

tbh if you wanna get him bad, tools are probably best bet. rough tickles with hands are a little too much, but get a feather or a pen or a brush and Hoo boy you’ve killed Viktor.

i don’t actually think he’s all that ticklish. like he is but he isn’t? he’s sensitive but not hypersensitive, i guess.

except for his bad spots. i think its more of a thing where he’s not too ticklish in most places but his bad spots get him writhing.

of course i’m obliged to say neck, ears, jaw, back.. the works. i think his stomach has the potential to be sensitive but he’s a little too skin and bones for it to really impact him.

he has a lot of vaguely unusual spots. his wrists and palms are sensitive, i think his scalp is even a little sensitive. he doesn’t like people playing with his hair for that reason

if not for his brace i’d say his back and spine especially would be real bad. without his brace, just tracing a line all the way up his spine has him jerking forward so hard sometimes he falls over. and absolutely spits out any drink he may be drinking. i mean it feels like stars bursting all the way up his back, okay?? so tingly

he’s the type to hold his stomach when laughing really hard, just in general

he’s also a big snorter, but he uhm.. he has a very maniacal laugh. it’s literally just like- a whole villain laugh. absolutely terrifying.

i think he’s a lot less sensitive than jayce in theory, but in practice he’s a lot less used to it and very squirmy

so squirmy. very slippery. i wouldn’t quite say nimble, because of his leg, but- at the very least very good at escaping.

definitely the type to go straight for his ler’s sides to get them off him. he panics and just squeezes. usually it works but sometimes it doesn’t

i think he has the potential to be a giggler. idk though. he wouldn’t have bubbly giggles as much as he would have really breathy, huffy giggles. silent giggles are another big thing

i think he’s very neutral on the whole concept. he has to be in the right mood and it has to be with someone he trusts with his life.

feather-ticklish bastard. trust me on this

ler!

idk about you guys but viktor talking like he’s documenting an experiment while tickling someone? oughhrgrh.

im usually not one for teases but aaugrgghgrgr.

his hands are absurdly nimble, so while he can commonly be overpowered by his lee, he’s still a slippery bastard and somehow manages to slip into all of someone’s worst spots

i’m kinda stealing this hc from someone else, but i think he is very good at predicting/guessing someone’s weak spots. “HOHOW DID YOU KNOW I-“ “oh, i just guessed. not very hard, you know.” gggggraagg

i really can’t explain just how evil he is. those nimble hands of his are all over someone in seconds, spidering and digging into every single spot and switching at lighting speeds.

very good at tickling people, i think. him and jayce are on a pretty even playing field for that

i have such a distinct idea of what ler!viktor would be but for some reason i just cant explain it with words.

TOGETHER

oh these two. these two. i’m.

they are so switchy it’s scary. tickle fights with these two are not tickle fights, they are strategic tickle wars.

viktor tickles jayce out of stress a lot. jayce is definitely the type to get overwhelmed with stress and not tell anyone, literal king of masking, but ofc viktor sees through it in seconds and wrecks him until he admits what’s wrong. and then viktor wrecks him some more so he can forget about it for a little while

they’re always teasing eachother. on energetic days they’re both so playful with eachother, and they’ll be poking eachother around the lab all day until one of them cracks and launches an attack

they wreck eachother just to prove a point sometimes.

jayce has a habit of getting viktor when he’s being too cocky or sassy. viktor has a habit of getting jayce just because he feels like it.

jayce tickles viktor when he’s bored, he’ll pick up a quill and flutter it against the back of viktor’s neck while he’s ranting about something.

they get revenge a lot, but then they get revenge on the revenge, so it’s kind of.. a cycle

they know eachother’s boundaries like the back of their hands, since they’ve known eachother so long they’re very good at knowing exactly when to stop and exactly what to do

they also pick up on eachother’s lee moods.. and ler moods sometimes. let’s just say jayce knows when to run when viktor gets a certain look in his eyes

aftercare with them is sickeningly soft. brushing hair out of faces, gently caressing skin, massaging eachother to get rid of some of the lingering tingles, all of it. they hold hands and press up next to eachother and ghhgh. even if its in a scenario where they aren’t dating, they still do all of this, and if someone questions it they just shrug. just two bros bein dudes, nothing to see here

i feel like these together hcs are so bad im sorry. it’s so early rn and im suffering Hunger. ill probably make more of these in the future if anyone is interested

feel free to shoot me an ask or two about them as well!!

[ooooo-mcyt]

There seems to be a running theme with honor and “honorable” kills. Gem and Pearl, scar/jimmy and Grian, even Cleo and bigb with the betrayal. I’m interested to see how the alliances are torn/made with this

Also gempearl divorce

I think the focus on "honorable" kills in many ways comes down to the characters' desire for basic agency.

There aren't many choices anyone can make in this game. They have to play, they have to die. They don't get any choice over being here, over the game mechanics, over their inevitable fates. Any mark of agency characters get is in little things. How they choose to react to things, managing to scrape up some semblance of a 'win' for themselves, or being able to die on their own terms.

Most things in the series can be read through this lens of agency, but the "honorable kills" theme is one of the biggest ones.

Gem knows she has to die, it's part of the game, but there was something traumatic about the end of Secret Life from her perspective. Her team was strong, and then it wasn't, sustaining an injury they couldn't recover along, but continuing to drag themselves along as every single option and choice they thought they had was gone, and Gem died alone, two against one. This season she refuses to have that agency taken away from her, and she resents Pearl for trying, for refusing to give her an honorable fight.

The reason killing Impulse got to Ren so much is because Ren prides himself on his honor. Ren's never truly had much choice in his own life, but one thing he can always choose is to have principals, is to stick to his sense of honor. We see Ren do something he deems dishonorable and immediately make excuses, craft a narrative in which he was led to it, in which it wasn't his fault, in which he never would have done it on his own. Ren creates a boogeyman so he doesn't have to face the thought that his honor can fail. So he doesn't have to face the fact that the desperation of this game can take away one of his only ways of control in his own life.

Grian, when victim to 'cheap' kills, feels like it's a violation of his personal agency as well. He has a chance in a fair fight, or against a well laid trap, and when the kill is silly, well, usually he lets those happen for the bit. But a cheap kill isn't something that can easily be avoided, and it makes him feel helpless. What does it mean if someone can just kill him and he doesn't even have a chance to stop it? Furthermore, Grian practically offered to let Scar in specific kill him, and if Scar took him up on it, that would have been Grian's choice. But instead Scar turned him down and then went for the 'cheap' kill anyways, as if Scar was trying to make him as powerless as possible (scar wasn't, of course, but it must have felt like it)

People locked in an endless looping death game want to be able to feel like they have a choice, like they have agency, and they don't feel right when the little ways they can keep that agency are taken from them.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien - First Snowfall Date - English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lucien’s 2024 CN Birthday Event (Golden Love Ratio)✧ Birthday Story | Birthday Prologue + Birthday Date (You’re here!) | ASMR

"Actually, the reason for wanting to own a castle is quite simple."

"Because that way, I could have a space of my own to carry out those daring and even dangerous experiments."

"And my parents could also accompany me in the castle, pursuing the research they are deeply passionate about."

"That way, they wouldn’t have to be 'trapped' in the lab all the time."

Translation under the cut!

I’m sorry for dropping this so late. As you might have seen from my tweet, my dad was hospitalized in ICU this month. I’m still struggling emotionally now as I wait for him to wake up. It’s been a difficult time, and the grief is still heavy on me as he hasn’t regained consciousness yet… 

Sharing this date translation is the least I can do to celebrate his birthday for now, even though I won’t be annoyingly scream about it like I usually would hhhh. I guess this date feels a bit like a small comfort—a reminder that even if your loved ones have passed away, it’s not all sadness. There’s still warmth in the memories they left behind :”””.

So, Xu Mo, happy birthday. I’m so happy to see you finally embracing your past with such warmth and nostalgia. Honestly, this year feels like it’s all about him finally gaining ‘blood and flesh,’ becoming more human and beautifully stained with the colors of the mortal world. His world is no longer monochrome, and now he’s moving toward the most vibrant and colorful spring. 

✂———————–

Before reading recommendations:

[2024 Birthday Birthday (a MUST read because this date is heavily reference this!) - My Translation]

[Winery date - Youtube (EN Loc)] 

—秋天是个本身就是带着悲伤和落寞的季节， 但是秋天也拥有盛放的花草， 拥有醇美的葡萄 酒， 还有不变的思念。(Autumn itself is a season inherently tinged with sadness and loneliness. Yet, autumn also boasts blooming flowers and thriving plants, rich and mellow wines, and unwavering longing.’) 

[Autumn Blaze Date - Youtube (EN Loc)]

No tear-floods, Nor sigh-tempests move. The fulfillment of a promise is...

“诺言的实现是别离的开始”。(“The fulfillment of a promise is the beginning of separation.")

[Tidying Up Date - My Translation - Youtube (EN Loc)]

—如果在那些被定格的风景里,你依然生动 鲜活,是否证明我还想念着你。(If in those frozen scenes, you still appear vivid and lively as before, does that mean I still miss you?)

那些被我判定为重要的事,即便现在已经 不再拥有同样的心情,那我是否还爱着你。(If what I previously judged to be important no longer reflects my feelings now, does that mean I still love you?)

✂———————–

[Birthday Prologue]

Sunlight shines on the sofa, and the cozy warmth makes me lift my head from my laptop, stretching with a big, lazy yawn.

MC: It always feels like something’s missing…

Lucien's birthday is coming soon, and to properly celebrate that day, he's been rushing his experiments progress lately, making him incredibly busy.

So, I want to give him a "soft and fluffy" birthday where he can lie down anytime and anywhere.

It's just that I've run into a little problem for the time being.

=Flashback Start=

MC: Lucien, what do you think of this town?

Lucien: It seems quite nice. It just so happens that the lab next door seems to be going here to do some research.

MC: What? No, no, if we're not careful, you'll be swept away by work!

I took out my Plan B and placed it in front of Lucien.

MC: How about this southern city then~ It should be very warm here.

Lucien: Hmm... If you don't want to be disturbed by outsiders, I'm afraid this place won't work either.

Lucien: I remember an academic summit is being held here soon. I just returned the call and declined the invitation to attend.

=Flashback End=

Therefore, after several plans were forced to be aborted one after another, my gaze inevitably shifted to the other side of the ocean.

Let's go somewhere farther away!

That way, Lucien can have a peaceful birthday without being disturbed by work or the outside world.

I immediately change my search keywords and start browsing travel guides for long-distance birthday trips.

Suddenly, a relevant news notification pops up on the webpage.

A castle museum owned by a renowned inventor from the last century will soon be open to the public.

In the photo, the historic castle is adorned with falling red leaves in the sunlight, resembling a piece of condensed amber.

I excitedly click on it and discover that, in addition to the open exhibition area, the castle is also available for rent by the square meter.

MC: ...Castle rental?

My eyes light up, and an idea forms in my mind.

✂———————–

When Lucien returns in the evening, I quietly close my laptop and walk to the door with a smile.

MC: Lucien—welcome home~ Ahem, I have a new idea about your birthday!

Lucien takes off his coat and gently embraces me, his eyes reflecting a soft, tranquil smile like the surface of a shallow water.

Lucien: What's the idea?

MC: Heehee, let me give you a hint~ How about we go somewhere far away for your birthday this time, a place with a vintage feel?

A gentle puff of air that seems like a suppressed chuckle reaches my ears, and a thoughtful expression appears on Lucien's face.

Lucien: Hmm... So, how vintage are we talking?

MC: Like, no elevator, and maybe no heating?

Lucien: Sounds like it could be a bit cold. It seems we'll need to pack some warm clothes.

I subconsciously nod, then immediately react.

MC: Wait, you've already agreed?

Lucien: Mm, after all, celebrating a birthday in a castle is a very appealing option.

MC: !!

MC: Hey! I clearly kept it under wraps, I haven’t even booked the tickets yet.... how did you figure it out so quickly?

Lucien's lips curve into a smile as he takes my hand, his index finger gently tapping on the back of my hand.

Lucien: It's probably because... your browsing history is synced to my computer.

✂———————–

[Date]

If you want to follow along with the voice- you can hear it here . The date starts at 14:10

=[Part 1]=

The late autumn sunshine is softened by the clouds, leaping through the glass window and casting a honey-like, mottled glow on the wooden floor.

MC: Mmh…

The cold air wakes me. As I'm about to stretch, my right hand accidentally brushes against something warm and soft.

Lucien lies peacefully beside me, breathing steadily. His brow, furrowed from days of relentless work, finally relaxes as he falls into a deep well of sleep.

We crossed the ocean and arrived at an ancient castle on the Atlantic coast last night.

It is said that this castle was personally designed and built by an inventor from the electrical era. He gifted it to his wife as a wedding present upon its completion.

They fell in love as they settled down at this very place, continuously building love founded on mutual companionship. Here they remained until they eventually passed away together and were laid to rest eternally within the castle grounds.

The profound emotions and story, coupled with the beautiful view of maple leaves and the ancient castle before my eyes, strengthen my resolve to rent this castle.

Amidst the intermingling of light and shadow this early morning, I quietly gaze at Lucien and a soft warmth wells up in my heart.

A hand with defined knuckles encloses my right hand, his palm pressed against the back of my hand, transmitting his body heat.

It's as if he's reluctant to grasp it tightly, yet unwilling to let go, so he just gently cups my hand.

I raise the hand that he isn’t holding, my fingertips hovering at the smallest distance as I trace the outline of his features.

Eyelashes, the bridge of his nose, his lips… until those closed eyelids suddenly quiver and blink lightly.

Lucien slowly opens his eyes, a hint of soft sleepiness lingering in them.

His hold on my hand tightens as he looks at me drowsily, revealing a gentle, soft smile under the sunlight.

I shift my body slightly, blocking the sunlight that's falling into his eyes, then lean down and gently press my cheek against his.

MC: Happy birthday, Professor Lucien~

Lucien: [his sleepy, soft voice is so cute-] Thank you, my little lady.

He tilts his face up, nuzzling affectionately against my cheek. The sunlight falls on his side profile, making him look fluffy.

The strands of his hair tangle with mine, stirring tender and lingering itches.

Lucien: Waking up in a castle and hearing MC's blessing, I must be the happiest person in the world right now.

Lucien: If I were to say there's still something missing, it would probably be...

Lucien: [chuckles] You're right. This castle is indeed quite cold.

His teasing tone makes me unable to resist lifting the corner of my lips. I snuggle closer, resting my cheek on his collarbone and nuzzling against it, warming the slightly cold patch of skin.

After warming up his skin that was exposed to the air, I tilt my face up to look at him.

MC: Being here with you under the covers like this makes it feel just a bit warmer.  

MC: However, getting up and moving around might help warm up our body too.

I wink at Lucien, speaking with a feigned seriousness that makes the matter seem like a big deal.

MC: I’ve decided to leave this difficult decision to the esteemed castle owner. May I ask, what would Your Highness like to do*?

My words are the picture of courtesy, yet I press myself against Lucien, my hand boldly and unreservedly traces his cheek.

His chest, pressed tightly against mine, trembles softly. Lucien takes my fingers, bringing them to his pale lips for a gentle kiss.

Lucien: Since I’m the owner of this castle... then, I want to stay in bed with my girlfriend for a bit longer right now.

He looks at me and blinks, his eyelashes casting a warm shadow on his cheek.

Lucien: [chuckles] Is that okay?

His voice holds a touch of playful mischievousness. I meet those eyes filled with smiles and feel a little dazed.

MC: Of course…

Before I can even finish speaking, I feel his hand tighten around my waist, and I yield as he wraps me back in the blanket again.

From just a breath away, I hear Lucien's long, contented exhale.

Lucien: [chuckles softly, then exhales comfortably] Then stay with me a little longer, let's indulge in bed a bit more.

✂———————–

*: MC playfully used 您 (nin) here, which is like the formal way to say ‘you’. I translate this to ‘Your Highness’ as an attempt to capture this~

✂———————–

=[Part 2]=

We linger in bed until almost noon when Lucien finally 'digs' me out of the warm covers while I’m still drowsy from sleep.

After freshening up, we enjoy the sumptuous and exquisite brunch prepared by the butler.

Before the birthday dinner arrives, we still have a long stretch of leisurely time that we can freely arrange.

Considering this rare opportunity to vacation in the castle, we decide to spend half the day on the castle's lawn.

Late autumn is a season of vibrant colors, and the castle's designer clearly understood this well, planting a row of deciduous trees along the castle's edge.

[Trivia: Deciduous trees are trees that shed their leaves each year in the autumn!]

The lawn remains as green as an antique jade, but the leaves of the trees have already turned yellow, with a backdrop of maple forests ablaze in crimson.

The sunlight is warm, the fallen leaves crunch under my feet, and I can't help but take a deep breath.

MC: Mmm... It's the scent of autumn!

Lucien chuckles softly and, imitating me, takes a gentle breath of the autumn air.

Lucien: [chuckles] The air is so fresh. It must have rained last night; I can smell the petrichor.

MC: Hearing you say that, it feels like even the air today is a fresh gift for you~

I reach out and catch a falling leaf carried by the autumn breeze, gently placing it in Lucien's hand.

MC: Lucien, I want to give you a gift of autumn!

Lucien: A gift of autumn?

Lucien takes the leaf with a slightly puzzled look. I swing his hand gently and give him a wink.

MC: Consider this leaf a humble offering to spark something greater.

MC: I want to use these fallen leaves, flowers, and fruits to make an autumn basket, offering a small gift to today's birthday boy using nature's bounty.

Lucien gently nods in understanding, the curve of his lips remaining unchanged.

Lucien: Even though you're preparing a gift for me, the birthday boy himself is eager to join in too.

Lucien: Or is it that my little lady will only allow me to stand back and do nothing?

As he leans in slightly, his tone carries a hint of seriousness, and his fingertips lightly brush against my palm.

Sunlight sprinkles across his face, and his smiling eyes, framed by the interplay of light and shadow, appear even deeper, revealing a gentle slyness.

MC: Of course I need Professor Lucien's help, but when it comes to the final weaving stage, the birthday boy can't peek~

Lucien: No problem, I will be an honest collaborator.

The autumn wind lifts his hair, creating gentle curves as it sweeps through the strands. I gather his fingers in mine and we step onto the forest path by the castle.

MC: Let's go then, we still need a lot of materials~

In the maple forest during late autumn, fruit trees laden with fruit hide amongst the low bushes, while vibrant beeches with flourishing branches and leaves stand beside the tall oaks.

Purple crocuses peek their delicate buds from the grass, while after the rain, strange fungi unfurl their caps and release spores.

It's like stumbling into an autumn oil painting with bold colors and thick brushstrokes, every glance reveals a colorful and magnificent scenery.

When Lucien picks up a plump acorn, a red squirrel with a fluffy tail scurries out and squeaks at him.

MC: Wow, such a daring little squirrel!

Lucien and I are both taken aback for a moment; this little fellow seems completely unafraid of us.

MC: Is it greeting us, or is it trying to steal the fruit we've picked up?

Lucien seems to already have a way to handle this, a hint of cunningness flashing in his eyes.

He takes a pine cone in his hand and gently dangles it in front of the little squirrel's tail.

Lucien: [chuckles] Little guy, do you want this?

The greedy little squirrel's eyes instantly fixate on the new pine cone, completely captivated by his movement, and it scurries forward a few steps.

It stuffs the pine cone from Lucien's hand into its mouth in one gulp, then hops away with its cheeks puffed out.

Lucien: [chuckles] This maple forest is their world. That pine cone, well, let's just consider it an ‘entry fee'.

Lucien raises his hand again, and when he opens his palm before me, there they are—several even plumper and cuter acorns.

MC: Hold on, turns out you've been secretly keeping all these 'hidden treasures' to yourself!

Lucien: [in an ‘innocent’ tone] After all, my little lady needs these acorns, so I had to find a way to evade those sharp-eared and keen-eyed little fellows.

Though he says this, Lucien shows a relaxed expression, looking like a little fox pretending to be innocent.

The thought of the Great Professor Lucien actually ‘tricking’ a squirrel makes me burst out laughing. I grab his hand and pull him along as I run in the other direction.

MC: Hahaha, Professor Lucien, quick, run with me! Be careful, the little squirrel might go find the squirrel police and report us!

I hold hands with Lucien as we walk through the woods. The surrounding scenery is vibrant with colors, creating the impression of a flowing oil painting.

The air around the sweet osmanthus trees is filled with a sweet fragrance like cotton candy, while black walnuts and red oak acorns roll on the ground.

My pockets are loaded with autumn's ‘spoils’ which keep spilling out as I run, as if they are merging with the forest's hidden mysteries.

Despite these minor incidents, we still manage to gather a basketful of autumn's gifts.

✂———————–

Back indoors, I carry my blessings for Lucien and patiently weave them together.

Leaves and fruits gradually take shape in my hands, carrying small heartfelt wishes, preserving the warmth and liveliness of autumn.

And then, I find Lucien by the window.

He seems to have just come inside, a hint of coldness still clinging to him, but when he turns and looks back at me, a gentle smile quickly spreads across his face.

I smile and lift the basket of fruits and flowers with both hands as if I'm holding all the beauty of autumn.

MC: This castle’s most beautiful autumn is all right here! Here, it's all yours—

MC: I hope every day of your future can be as complete, fulfilling, and beautiful as this~

Lucien's eyes curve into a smile as he takes the basket.  Suddenly, I feel a touch of moist coolness against my ear.

Through the glass window, I see him quietly tuck a vibrant Cleome flower into my hair.

Lucien: Thank you, I really like these autumn gifts.

Lucien: But for me, the most beautiful part of autumn is right here before my eyes.

Lucien: She blooms year after year, staying by my side, and leaving me utterly captivated*.

✂———————–

[T/N]

I think the Cleome Spinosa flower, also known as 醉蝶花 ("intoxicated butterfly") carries symbolic meaning. When Lucien gives her this particular flower, it reflects his emotions about her. The final line (她年复一年地盛开,陪在我的身边,令我沉醉其中 — literally translated as "She blooms year after year, staying by my side, and leaving me intoxicated") directly connects to the "intoxicating" (醉) in the flower's name with the word 沉醉 (immersed in a state of intoxication) in the last line, which combines 沉 (to sink or immerse) and 醉 (to be drunk or intoxicated).

沉醉 conveys the emotional nuances of being utterly captivated, deeply enchanted, and overwhelmed in a consuming, blissful way. This imagery mirrors the 'intoxicated butterfly' of the flower, as if he's the 'intoxicated butterfly', utterly captivated and completely consumed by her existence.

✂———————–

=[Part 3]=

It's past dusk, and the sunlight is as golden and radiant as freshly harvested honey. Outside the window, a vast expanse of red maple trees sways in harmony with the evening breeze, whispering a soft melody. Leaves flutter and dance their way into the room every now and then.

I rub my arms, for even this gentle and beautiful scenery can’t stop the temperature from dropping as night falls.

MC: Uh... It feels even colder than it did this morning.

Just then, the sound of rolling wheels comes from behind me. Lucien approaches, pushing a small wooden cart, a plush shawl in his hand.

Lucien: I found a pretty good way to warm up, want to give it a try?

He gently wraps a shawl around me, and I comfortably nuzzle against his warm and cozy neck.

MC: I'm all ears to hear the esteemed opinions of the castle's owner!

Lucien smiles mysteriously, holds my hand, and pushes the cart as we walk together to a door leading underground.

MC: This is... a wine cellar?

Lucien: I think it would be more ceremonial if we chose the wine list ourselves tonight.

He lights the two oil lamps that were prepared in advance. Each of us carries one, and we slowly move forward through the rich aroma of oak barrels.

According to the butler, the wine cellar was recently ventilated.  

Yet, perhaps the overwhelming aroma of wine saturates the air, walking inside makes me feel a bit stifled. I even feel slightly intoxicated just from the scent, before even having a sip.

Besides me, only Lucien still carries the fresh and crisp scent of grass and trees from when we were gathering fruits and fallen leaves.

It feels like he is the only antidote in this dim room filled with the floating aroma of wine.

Red maple leaves, the wine cellar, the wine itself… memories from the past seem to overlap at this moment.

Suddenly, I recall the winery we visited long ago.

The memory of the autumn stained red by the maple leaves has brought with it the restlessness and infatuation of the past, spilling out from the bottom of my heart without any reason...

It's as if my lips still retain the feeling of his touch when he wiped away the wine stain for me, making my heartbeat inexplicably quicken. Just then, I catch sight of Lucien gently placing a bottle of wine into the cart.

MC: Professor Lucien, what kind of wine did you choose?

Lucien: Riesling white wine.

Lucien turns the bottle around to show me.

Lucien: When I got the cart, the butler knew I was going to the wine cellar and recommended this castle's specialty to me.

Lucien: And you?

I suppress the excitement in my heart and wink at him mysteriously.

MC: Hmph, you'll find out soon enough.

The light and soft aroma of white wine fills the air, and even the candles on the wall seem intoxicated by the wine's fragrance, their flames gently flickering.  

Under the twilight dome of the sky, the shadows of the wine rack and stone walls sway gracefully in the flickering firelight.  

Lucien and I sit at a small table nearby, two crystal-clear glasses already filled with wine, exuding a faintly tipsy aura.  

After two glasses of Riesling, I feel warmth spreading through my body and let out a satisfied sigh.

MC: Ahh, so comfortable... I don't feel cold at all anymore~ As expected of the wine Professor Lucien chose.

Lucien: [chuckles] Would you like some more?

I smile and shake my head, winking at him mysteriously.

MC: First, let's try the wine I picked~

I open the bottle of wine I selected and pour a glass for Lucien, sneaking a glance at his face from the corner of my eye.  

The candlelight cast a soft filter over him, concealing his keen and contemplative eyes, which revealed a soft glow under the haze of the wine.

He parts his pale lips, gently swallows the wine, and seems to be momentarily dazed.

MC: How is it?

I can barely contain my anticipation as I watch his brow smooth slightly, relaxing further after taking in the wine.

Confusion and surprise flit through his gentle eyes, before swiftly transforming into a clear understanding.

Lucien:�� ...This flavor is very unique, and yet also very familiar.

Lucien: It's sweet and tender, yet with a touch of bitterness and complexity*.

[Notes from Lux: He copied her remark from back then, word by word :”””. 纠结 is a tricky word to translate because it literally means “intertwined”/”tangled”. But figuratively, it implies a kind of intertwined, tangled feeling, commonly describing a state of emotional or mental conflict, where someone feels torn between different choices or is experiencing confusion and hesitation (a.k.a the state of the earlier stage of their relationship-). I went with ‘complexity’ to capture some nuances, but it might not capture this ‘entangling’ feeling.]

The complex yet familiar remark sends a rush of emotions through me. Just as I’m thinking about what to say, Lucien smiles.

Lucien: But when I savor it again, I feel a warmth, like that of sunshine and rain—a delicate, pleasant warmth.

The familiar words stir a trace of emotion in my heart, and in a daze, it feels as if the autumn equinox of that year has arrived at this very moment.

He still remembers—this is the same bottle of wine I tasted back when we were just getting to know each other, during our visit to Eileen's winery for an interview.

My fingertips unconsciously rub against the bottle, and my thoughts follow my gaze to the red maple trees bathed in the evening glow.

Back then, it was also the season when the maples were crimson and the flowers were in full bloom...

A maple leaf, as if on cue, is swayed by the evening breeze and drifts toward me. I instinctively reach out, and the leaf gently lands in my palm.

It feels as though the early days of tentative exploration and the subtle sweetness of that time have traveled with the falling leaf, arriving here in this foreign land at this moment.

Lucien: I remember, on the way to the winery, I mentioned Maple Road. We ended up going there together.

Lucien: On Maple Road, we read a poetry collection together and visited a maple sugar shack.

Lucien: Later, I drew a picture of you collecting maple leaves. That drawing even ended up in an exhibition...

The rippling light of the wine in the crystal glass reflects on him, even his gaze holds tender memories.

Lucien speaks calmly, his memories unfolding like a heavy book, slowly opening before me with the sound of his voice.

The bond beneath the red maple tree and the feelings growing in the vineyard, word by word, moment by moment, intertwine and become etched into our story-

Only those who created it together can turn its pages and retrieve each other's anchors from the endless flow of time.

My heart is stirred, subtly and uncontrollably. I can't help but rush into Lucien's arms, hugging him tightly.

MC: I remember too.

MC: Not just these things you've mentioned... everything about you, I remember it all.

MC: So after today, Professor Lucien should also update this birthday into all our autumn memories.

His chest pressed close to me, trembles slightly. A warm, gentle kiss falls on my forehead, soft and cherishing.

Lucien: Such beautiful memories, I don't seem to have any reason to let them fade away.

I lift my face joyfully and gently kiss his chin.  

We have already experienced countless stories through many autumns and celebrated each of his birthdays.

And I also want to write down promises with him for each and every autumn in the future, continuing on for a very, very long time.

MC: Then it's a promise!

Lucien smiles faintly and lifts me up with one hand, his gentle gaze meeting mine at eye level.

Lucien: [chuckles] However, if I want to make the anchor of this ‘memory’ even more profound, I still need to gather a bit of inspiration…

The remaining of his words are lost into our mingling breaths, replaced by a crisp kiss tinged with the scent of wine.

This kiss is gentle and intoxicating, leaving me somewhat tipsy, though not from the effects of alcohol.

Perhaps it's because the youthful and inexperienced flavor of that past has long since mixed with the passionate love that has matured over time…

Blending and growing, pulling me deeply into it.

✂———————–

=[Part 4]=

The twilight gradually fades into the night, and the bright moon quietly hangs in the autumn night, illuminating the still dazzling and fiery red maple leaves.

Lucien and I are still sitting at the table, enjoying the tranquility, when a sudden coldness brushes against my cheek.

I raise my head and realize, without noticing it, that snowflakes have already begun drifting down from the sky. Just then, I hear Lucien's smiling voice beside me.

Lucien: It seems that today's ‘gifts’ are not over yet.

MC: After all, today is your birthday—the whole world will be sending you blessings~

Our gazes meet, and with a tacit understanding, we both set down our glasses and take each other's hands.

Lucien: Then, can I invite my ‘world’ to go out with me and experience this beauty together?

In the courtyard, rustling red maples intertwine with falling snowflakes, as if autumn and winter themselves are completing their handover at this very moment.

We get an umbrella from the butler and hold hands as we follow the stone path down the hill from the old castle.

The moonlight on a snowy night grows brighter as we walk side by side to the small town at the foot of the hill, where the houses and streetlights are all covered in a delicate layer of snowflakes.

On the streets of the small town, many people, like Lucien and I, stroll under the moonlight, accompanied by the backdrop of the first snowfall, tacitly enjoying this tranquil night.

I turn my head to look at Lucien and find him reaching out his hand, gently catching a falling snowflake.

His eyes curve faintly, as if harboring some kind of quiet longing, even carrying a touch of rare childlike innocence.

MC: [smiles softly] Why does it feel like Professor Lucien has a special fondness for this snow?

My tone holds a hint of curiosity, wanting to capture this rare glimpse of his innocence. Lucien smiles and begins to speak softly.

Lucien: [softly, like recalling a cherished memory] Just remembered a movie I watched when I was little. I remember... it was about an inventor who lived in a castle.

Lucien: After watching it as a child, there was a time when I also wanted to be an inventor with a castle.

My eyes widen in a bit of surprise.

MC: [pouts] I can understand wanting to be an inventor, but why did it have to be one who lives in a castle…

MC: Professor Lucien, could it be that you're teasing me on purpose just because we came to a castle this year?

Lucien: [chuckles] Of course not. But if this story will make this little lady happy, I’d be more than willing to tell it to you.

MC: I want to hear it, I want to hear it!

I enthusiastically put on an attentive look, Lucien smiles as he begins to speak.

Lucien: Actually, the reason for wanting to own a castle is quite simple.

Lucien: Because that way, just like the main character in the movie, I could have a space of my own to carry out those daring and even dangerous experiments.

Lucien: And my parents could also accompany me in the castle, pursuing the research they are deeply passionate about.

Lucien: That way, they wouldn’t have to be 'trapped' in the lab all the time.

Lucien speaks naturally, his voice imbued with a soft smile, yet it's as if a tiny window is being opened.

Through that window, I seem to see a little Lucien, his eyes sparkling with fascination as he watches the movie, his heart filled with simple and pure longing.

My heart suddenly softens, and I can’t help but smile tenderly as I start to speak.

MC: The dream of becoming an inventor could now be considered halfway realized~

MC: After all, Professor Lucien is a great scientist walking at the forefront of humanity—it’s perhaps even more remarkable than that!

MC: As for the castle... you've been the ‘owner of the castle’ for a day today, does that count?

Lucien: [chuckles] Of course it counts. And now, there’s even the first snowfall.

He takes my slightly cold hand and slips it in his pocket, softly rubbing it.

Lucien: I can no longer recall the plot of that movie very well. But I do remember that on the day we watched it, it also snowed in Loveland City.

Lucien: That day, they finished work early and brought home the videotape of that movie.

Lucien: The movie ended with the town welcoming its first snowfall, and we also stepped outside together to enjoy the snowy world.

He speaks vaguely, but I understand everything.

His low voice feels especially serene on this snowy night, yet as he speaks, another scene unfolds before my eyes.

When his room flooded before, he tidied up those old videotapes and set them aside, placing them carefully in a separate spot.

Is this old movie among those tapes?

As he put away the videotapes, did he recall that ancient castle and that warm snowfall?

I don’t know the answer, but I can feel that those fleeting, rarely mentioned fragments of his past were once so distant and cold.

But now, those precious fragments have thawed like melting ice and snow, filled with nostalgia and warmth as they slowly flow.

I instinctively tighten my hold on his hand.

The first snowfall is falling thicker and thicker, yet it isn't biting cold. Snowflakes gently drift past the edge of the umbrella, landing on the tips of my hair and forehead, as well as Lucien's.

It's as if this world is bestowing its blessings on Lucien in the most gentle way.

MC: Even though it's many years late, it seems that we've now made little Lucien's childhood dream come true.

With a chuckle, Lucien's low voice reaches me through the wind and snow.

Lucien: [chuckles] Indeed, so I was quite surprised, but also delightfully so.

Lucien: However, if it weren’t for this twist of fate, perhaps I wouldn’t have thought of this idea again for a very, very long time.

Lucien: [softly] Because I've long had something far more important.

Lucien: To me, those forgotten thoughts are more like a bottle of wine hidden in a cellar.

MC: Wine?

Lucien: Mm, just like the wine we’re drinking today.

Lucien: Grapes can never return to their original form, but time makes them richer and more mellow, and they will always meet someone who knows how to cherish them.

Lucien: She will give me a castle, stay in bed with me, treasure an entire autumn with me... and walk with me through quiet streets on snowy nights.

A snowflake quietly lands on his eyelashes and melts a moment later. It’s as if the melted droplets seep into my heart, creating ripples of sweet warmth.

I can't help but speak softly, offering all my blessings to my beloved standing before me under the moonlight of this snowy night.

MC: Happy birthday, Lucien.

May each and every year of your future be surrounded with love as you move forward.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*FIN*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[Bonus Phone call]

Lucien: I received the email you sent. Looks like it has some intel about a birthday.

MC: Yes! It's a text-based open-source game I found online. I modified it a bit~

MC: You can start from age 0 and randomly generate the 'life' of a little Lucien!

Lucien: Mm, just now, I've already completed two endings.

Lucien: The first time, little Lucien was accidentally captured by an alien spacecraft at the age of three and left Earth forever.

Lucien: The second time, little Lucien received a mysterious admission letter at the age of sixteen. No one knows where he went.

[Aren't these just a reflection of his past??? from being kidnapped by BS to mysteriously disappearing hhhhh]

MC: Haha, is the game’s random value design too harsh? Maybe I should tweak it a bit...

Lucien: No need, I really like this level of difficulty. It’s precisely this randomness that makes it so interesting to me.

Lucien: I’ve just started my third playthrough. This time, I’ve decided to reallocate some of the 15 points I gave to intelligence and assign some to luck.

[Not this basically saying that his genius may be the reason for his unluckiness in life :""". His 'luck' in life is that he's able to met her]

MC: So Professor Lucien had been putting all the points into one stat before! No wonder you kept having such over-the-top mysterious experiences...

Lucien: I just subconsciously wanted to test the limits of this little game, and unexpectedly made real discoveries.

Lucien: Although these endings greatly increased the game's replayability, this time, I want to make the game last a bit longer.

Lucien: That way, perhaps I can meet you in the game as well.

MC: Hehe, you can look forward to it!

MC: So, how's it going? What age did you reach in your third playthrough?

Lucien: …Hmm, I've already invented the elixir of immortality and reached the age of two hundred, but I still haven't encountered you.

Lucien: Am I on the right track?

MC: Pfft! I did set up an encounter, but I didn't set an age limit, thinking it would slightly increase replayability...

MC: I feel like I might have overdone it...

Lucien: It’s okay. In the game, little Lucien has already met you—at the age of five hundred.

Lucien: Then, on his birthday, we confessed to each other at the same time and spent a happy life together.

[Man so love-brained that he creates an immortality elixir and stubbornly waits a long time to finally meet her LOL. In this way, it can be said that his current life might be the 'luckiest' possibility because it allows him to meet her so soon]

MC: Hahaha, that's good, that's good... So, do you like this "life path" of becoming an inventor?

Lucien: I like it. I like everything and my destined encounter with you.

Lucien: I’ll be home soon, and when I get there, I’d like to invite you to explore all the other possibilities for little Lucien together—

Lucien: And explore every moment I spent with you on this birthday.

[z1mmie]

god i know we all get caught up in the buddie of it all but i think buck's character arcs need more praise for what they are.

evan "buck" buckley is such a compelling character. i've had so much joy watching him grow out of his frat boy ways into this solid fantastic dude like we watch him settle into himself thru 1 and 2 and build his support system. he starts a bit self-centered but i *love* it cuz we get to watch his capacity for empathy just grow and grow and grow and it's so amazing to see. i feel like that's something we forget sometimes--empathy is a skill you can learn. sure it's a little inherent but there's a reason kids get literally taught to consciously put themselves in other peoples shoes. you can also tell BUCK is feeling this growth (the buck 1.0 to 2.0 to 3.0 of it all etc.)

then he gets knocked down with the ladder truck and the embolism and it just *shakes* him. i relate to his desperate reach for adulthood so much and he just clings to it in all the wrong ways but at the same time we watch him learn about himself and the people are him. by seasons 4 and 5 he's had to confront his own insecurities in a big way when it comes to what family means to him and what being *him* meant to him.

i'm mainly thinking about this rn because season 6 is so great. like buck is just growing into his leadership and it's so nice to see. he's starting to WANT responsibility in a way he never did before. he's had a steady stream of trust and encouragement and life lessons ever since he's joined the 118 and you REALLY see the big changes in the lightning episodes and what follows. we're watching him thru another long recovery and he's taking it so well when compared to the embolism. he's just my favorite even tho i could barely stand his pigheadedness in the 1st like 3 episodes 😂

even with this weird sperm donor arc i can see where they're going with this. i think the fandom babies buck a bit (which is fair only becuz he's the baby and the favorite i'm pretty sure lmao) but this arc is a really good thing for making him think about who he is outside of what he can give and how he separates himself from the giving.

i hope he learns what he's allowed to keep and take soon tho (maybe in season 8...after a certain hiatus 👀👀👀)

i haven't gotten farther than 6.12 but i also watch all the spoilers on tiktok so Bi Buck!!! i'm so pumped for him and i am also gonna lose it waiting to see what happens.

also wanna give a shoutout to the cinematography!! they do some really cool stuff and i've never seen anyone mention it before because we focus on the buddie and the failures of the show (cuz they are there even tho ive been gushing this whole time)

like the chase scene in The Devil You Know is really good. also the wonky camera choices in In Another Life are so fun!!

thank u tiktok edits for getting me into this silly little firefighter show (also does anyone else wanna join the fire academy now 😂😂)

[cementcornfield]

Ja’Marr changed his profile picture on Instagram… our boy is going through it rn 🥺🥲 Also could be because he misses his son

Also Joe Mixon commented “We got you brother” 🥹

i did notice that 😔 and i'm trying not to read too much into it! i can definitely imagine he's taking comfort in loved ones like his son right now to get through it (it is a super cute picture)

loved all the supportive comments on joe's post yesterday, from mixon, to cj stroud, to patrick queen - a bunch of the receivers etc etc. that man is so loved by his teammates and it shows!

[batsplat]

if you could change the outcome of any 3 motogp races (the outcome of the championship doesn’t change regardless tho) which ones would you chose?

one of those asks that immediately made me forget every single race I've watched in my life. it's a tough one, especially with the championship thing... I'm gonna add another criterion here and say nothing to do related to injury/death

so... I came up with one quite quickly, then got stuck, then came up with a second and got even more stuck. I'm quite reluctant to change any 'plot-relevant races' in the context of specific careers and rivalries, plus I'm ideologically opposed to stealing any win off a non-alien and giving it to an alien. which then kinda left me?? well. stuck. I don't like these picks but well maybe I'll come up with something better at some point

assen 2018: I simply could not come up with a third race so I'll just throw this one in. dovi + valentino really really should have gotten onto the podium in this race, those were extremely podium-worthy performances, it was such a deeply silly incident between the pair of them that took them out of podium contention. also it's still seen as a classic race and... I don't even begrudge the two beneficiaries for their podium, it's just one where the three best riders that day didn't end up on the podium and I would change that!! I don't even really care that much but also look I had a spot to fill. would've enjoyed the rancid podium vibes, it's what a race of that quality deserved

sepang 2018: just deeply annoying? like, I think it was a super impressive performance, the consistent lap times trick from a 78 year old was very neat, it was cute when jorge did unprompted valentino prop for metronome solidarity reasons, it's one of literally two premier class races where valentino crashed out of the lead so I don't even hold it against him. but... well, that one might have been building to a battle between marc and valentino, and it would've been fun to see that! not least because of location + relationship vibes in 2018. I'd change the result in preventing the crash, don't really care who wins after that point - hey, they can crash each other out if they want. I Just Wanted To See It

styria 2020: bit of a niche one but I remember being pissed off by this so I'm going with it - this should have been mir's win without the bloody red flag. now I'm very sorry that maverick was just having an abysmal time in austria, peace and love to him, I'd probably never step foot in the country again after the eight days he had in that country.... but still, his bike attempting to murder him did ruin what really should've been joan's first win. I'm very defensive of mir's win stats and I was supporting the title bid with zero wins agenda once that looked plausible, but now that he's just gotten stuck on one win for quite a few years... well, again, I do think it's kinda iconic but I'd also let him have two. and back then he wasn't even really looking like a title contender and was still going for his FIRST win.... I was feeling very sorry for him so. there

[jrueships]

Magic after running from one new authority figure to another so he can shed responsibility from his actions when his consequences catch him anyway: 🥺

[unnecessarilygrandiose]

.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

just finished season 3 and i have. thoughts.

[bi-writes]

I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon

mail-order bride

reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+

simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.

when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.

but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.

a pretty girl.

he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.

but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.

simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).

when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.

and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).

it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.

"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.

one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--

"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."

bloody fuckin' christ.

your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.

"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"

instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.

you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.

he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.

he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.

you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.

"we shouldn't," he mutters.

"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--

you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.

"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"

"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.

he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.

holy fucking shit--

"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"

"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.

"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"

"shit--"

you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.

he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.

your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.

"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.

"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."

"w-wha--! simon!"

you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.

but when you laugh, he does, too.

[rafesproperty]

Thinking about how Rafe would treat you each season…

Bro was tweakin’ the whole show 😭 Good luck with the mood swings

Also can you tell S2 Rafe is my fav and owns my entire heart? Ok? Ok.

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Season 1 Rafe treats you horribly. Never there for you even tho you are always there for him. Always thinking about himself.

He can be nice behind closed doors but the second you are with him and his friends he’s cold. He almost acts like you guys aren’t together but if one of his friends flirts with you he throws a tantrum. Also he gets mad when you don’t give him enough attention but he ignores your messages for days.

He snorts cocaine in front of you even tho it makes you uncomfortable… but he doesn’t really care as long as he gets his high. He asks to snort it from your thighs or cleavage as well. If you say no he’ll keep asking until you say yes just to shut him up.

If you’re being all annoying asking him to drive you home he’ll just smear some on your gums.

“Shit. Alright, c’me here baby,” he mumbles and you sit on his lap as he grabs a tiny bit of the powder and uses his fingers to open your mouth. “There you go, baby, good fuckin’ girl.” He chuckles and kisses you. You instantly melt into the kiss, feeling as if the drugs effect melts your body. You’re on top of him the entire night, cuddling up to him, straddling his lap, purring when he kisses you. You’re just so good to him, so devoted when you’re in this state.

He never lets you snort it tho. And he won’t do it again for a long time. He doesn’t want you to be addicted like him.

He calls you in the middle of the night and demands you come over when he’s in the mood. He’ll pick you up but won’t give you a ride home so you’re either staying or walking alone.

He yells Kiara looks hot at Midsummers when you’re right next to him. You’re angry at him but he doesn’t care.

Probably constantly breaking up and getting back together when he has one of his breakdowns and needs you. So he seeks you out. Cries to you about his dad. Cries to you about your relationship. Promises to do better. And you always take him back.

He takes you on motorbike dates, goes way over the speed limit tho.

You are there when his dad kicks him out, he takes his sadness and anger out on you. You are there when he kills the sheriff, and you’re not running away, not telling anyone, you’re keeping your mouth shut. For him. You do a lot of things for him.

Season 2 Rafe aka the most unhinged psycho you’ve ever met is actually nicer to you (worse to everyone else… but nicer to you). He keeps you safe. Never lets you walk alone at night. He basically never ever leaves your side, when he does it’s to do something he doesn’t want you to see.

He keeps you away from Ward and Barry - especially Barry. Until you actually meet Barry and find out he’s cool and funny asf. Rafe is pissed at first but Barry is the only guy he’ll let you hang out with (only in his presence, tho).

Barry starts calling you “Mrs. Country cluuuub.”

Never lets you do drugs again. Not even a little bit. He feels bad for what he did before, smearing it on your gums when you didn’t even really know what he was doing. He won’t admit it out loud, tho. He just won’t allow it again.

He needs to touch you constantly. Hand on your back or your thigh at all times. Holding you close to him. He needs to know feel you’re there.

He swears he’ll buy anything you damn want with the gold.

He still gets mad when he doesn’t get your attention but this time he’ll just take it. He’ll force you to give him attention if he has to. Sometimes he’ll rile you up and piss you off just so that he’s your main focus.

He seeks you out for comfort when he comes to your house all bloody and beaten… whether the blood is his or not is a mystery. He’ll open up to you, he’ll talk about his dad and you’ll comfort him with sweet words, he gets so used to it. Addicted. His dad never listened to him. No one ever listened to him. But you do. He may be in love with you.

He’s possessive. Won’t let you talk to other people, will break anyones bones if they look at you the wrong way. You’re his. And he’s slowly starting to realise that he is yours, too.

“I’ll take care of you. Shit, I’ll fuck up anyone who tries to hurt you, got that?”

He’s harsh about everything he doesn’t like and especially to people he doesn’t like. You better not get in the way when he’s really angry.

He hates it when he makes you cry, but if he’s already pissed off he can’t stop himself from yelling. He never hurt you tho. Maybe a few bruises from gripping your wrist with too much force but nothing intentional.

His eyes soften when you flinch one time. That being the only time he actually somewhat calms down.

Not many peaceful moments with him given how little chill he had in S2 😭 BUT if you guys are just talking, playing with eachothers fingers in the dark and you start talking about your future he melts. You always include him. In all the details and in all the plans. He loves you. He’s sure of it now.

Wheezie absolutely adores you, she gossips about Rafe with you all the time. You guys play board games and he’ll scoff and roll his eyes but Wheezie will force him to join. For 5 minutes. Then he’s like “Fuck this bullshit” (he’s losing) and he leaves. You and Wheezie laugh at him.

He tells you everything, he tells you about how he shot Sarah, how he tried to drown her, how he almost killed Pope, how he hates these fucking Pogues so much and wants them all dead… he’s never saying it calmly, his pupils are dilated, he’s shaking, his words are mixing, he has this look on his face… sometimes he’s so scary. But you never run away from him.

His obsession with making his dad proud slowly turns into an obsession to make you proud. To make you happy. To make sure the gold is fucking yours and anyone who tries to take anything away from you two dies.

I seriously can’t stress enough how Rafe is always obsessed with one person only and does absolutely everything in the world for them. And his focus changes from his dad to you. You’re his priority now. He’ll protect you, not his dad. He’ll make you proud, not his dad. You. You. You.

Season 3 Rafe is an obsessed man. Spoils you. Takes you on fancy dates all the time. Gets you anything you like or anything he likes.

Gets you hot dresses that he’ll rip the same day. You’re actually angry because you liked that dress so he’ll just buy it again.

He doesn’t really know how to express his emotions so he’ll just constantly buy you expensive things just because he can and he’ll keep you close, cuddle you, kiss you, squeeze your waist. Physical contact all the time, basically.

You don’t really fight anymore. But if he does make you angry you’ll wake up to princess treatment the whole day. Food, clothes, jewelry, his attention, anything you want, you got it.

“Can we get a dog?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

… almost anything you want.

You are his priority, always. Always focused on making you secure, safe, happy, proud, satisfied. You don’t have to ask for anything, ever. He’s got you.

Constantly shielding you with his body when you two go out, keeping you close, thumb drawing little circles on your back, his attention on you the entire time.

He’ll take you on boat drives and just chill and make out with you out on the open ocean.

He’s so madly in love with you.

He’s loyal, pushing other people away from him, and he expects the same from you… tho you usually don’t even get the chance to. He’s scaring anyone away the second they look at you.

He doesn’t care about Ward anymore, all he sees is his pretty girl who’s been with him the whole time, through everything. His girl. That didn’t push him away when he was on his lowest. His girl, who didn’t run away from him when he killed people. His girl who makes him feel so warm and fuzzy it actually keeps surprising him.

He wants to marry you, give you everything he has, pay you back for always having his back.

[thinkinonsense]

Bewitched

˖⋆࿐໋ james logan howlett ✦ bridgerton au series

bewitched masterlist

cw: 1800s mentality on marriage and women, pinning, bickering, enemies to lovers

pairing: viscount!logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: as of right now, i'm not sure how long this series will be but i'm so excited for it! i tried to make the reader as universal as possible but i did have to give her some sort of last name, so if that isn't your thing, you can always change it to fit. after the set up, i'll probably drop the last name.

bridgerton lore: ton (high society), debuting (when you begin dating/looking for a partner), spinster (an unmarried woman)

main masterlist

in early june, everyone returned back to england for this season and whispers of a french woman joining the ton spread around. one morning at breakfast, marie howlett was reading one of the gossip columns aloud to her family when her eldest brother, james walked into join them at the table.

"it says she's staying with her aunt, lady worthington. she is four and twenty and the only child. her passions are literature and painting. apparently, the queen has one of her paintings in her home..."

"she sounds lovely. doesn't she, james?" their mother said, hoping her boy was listening.

"she's a spinster." he says, eating some of the fruit on the table. "that's not viscountess material."

"the queen seems to find her to be diamond material." marie jabs.

james has never fallen for one of the diamonds. sure, their beauty is prominent and sometimes they can hold an intellectual conversation but for the most part they are simply shoved forward so the queen can take credit for their marriage.

"i have more important priorities this season."

"well, this season you should prioritize finding a viscountess." their mother bit at him.

during this time every year his mother gives james the same speech over and over again. the marriage speech. ever since his father died during battle, james has been plagued with not only his grief but also the weight of replacing his father and eventually having to find a replacement for his mother as well. instead of focusing on marriage, james kept himself busy either working or traveling and keeping his family afloat.

"mama, i promise i will find a wife at some point." james sighs. "i just haven't met anyone that can handle being my viscountess."

"what about the red headed girl from last season? you seemed to fancy her quite a bit."

"she married lord summers this past spring."

"and the munroe girl?"

"she's interested in mister brooks."

all his mother does is sigh in response to the news. he takes this as the perfect chance to escape the interrogation.

luckily for james, there was always an excuse to avoid marriage. in the past he's gotten close to making that walk down the aisle but something always held him back. he's never believed much in love or marriage past it's convenience. sure, he believed it was the blueprint of life, to take a wife and start a family but his marriage is seen as a much bigger deal.

all the mamas in the ton were practically throwing their daughters in his direction. at balls, he's always forcing marie to dance with him because if not, he will be forced to socialize with these young unintellectual girls who only value him for his money and title. james didn't want to have to nurture these girls. he would take care of his wife but he wanted someone who was independent from him.

ever since his father died in the war, james has always been guarded of his feelings. especially, when it came to love. when he went with his mother to identify his father's body, james swore on that day that he would never let love destroy him like it did his mother.

"remember, marie is debuting tonight at the first ball of the season." his mother called after him. "don't be late."

"i wouldn't miss it." he smiles at his little sister before dashing out the door and back to his study.

˖⋆࿐໋

a rainbow of silks are spread across your bed as you try to figure out what to wear tonight. if your mother was here, she would know exactly what would look best on you. it's only been three months since her passing yet the ache in your chest grows stronger day by day.

"what are you thinking of wearing tonight?" your aunt asks, lingering in the doorway.

"i'm not sure yet." you sigh, picking at the pretty gowns. "i like the light blue one."

arguably, it was the prettiest in the pile. so simple, you hoped to blend in among the wash of colors in the room tonight. the boning of the corset poked the left side of your ribs a little but beauty is pain.

as you got ready, the nerves started to kick in. by now you should be on your second or third child and pregnant with the next. why was love taking so long to find you?

ever since you were a little girl, you were a hopeless romantic. dreaming of your first kiss and getting married to your knight in shining armor. back home, there was a cruel joke that you were the girl before the wife. you get just close enough before they end it. afraid that the curse would travel with you.

"don't worry." you aunt hums, brushing your hair. "the queen picked you as her diamond for a reason."

"i know, i know." you nod, avoiding your reflection in the mirror. "i just wish mother was here with me."

"i do too, dear."

"she should've seen me married."

a small tear rolls down your pink painted cheeks. it feels like you let her down by not taking a husband before her illness got worse.

men have it so easy. there's no pressure from society put on them. you can marry at fifty to a nineteen year old if you so please because you know that they will marry you out of fear and desperation.

"who says she can't?" your aunts smile reflected in the mirror. "she's still looking down on you, probably working on sending you a lord or a duke for a husband as we speak."

"amusing." you giggle.

"imagine a viscount or a prince!"

both of you laugh at the possibility. viscounts and princes were usually swept up quickly in high society. all of them probably have pregnant wives by now.

"don't get too ahead of yourself."

˖⋆࿐໋

the queens ball was unlike anything you had ever seen. beautiful gardens, bright lights, and people gathered everywhere. inside the ballroom, the chandelier lights almost blind you.

like a hawk, lady chamberlain spots you two. she is an older lady and a close family friend. you haven't seen her since you were a little girl, surprised that she was able to recognize you.

"lady worthington and miss bowery, lovely to see you here!" the woman smiled, wrapping her arms around both of you.

"hello, lady chamberlain." you smile, feeling slightly at ease seeing a familiar face here.

"you look marvelous, sweetie." she smiles, taking in your appearance. at least someone appreciated all the bells and whistles that went into your dress for this evening. "truly like a diamond."

"thank you." you curtsy. a warm rose color rises to the surface of your cheeks at her compliment.

"let's go find that viscount i've told your aunt about." she says.

suddenly, she's pulling you and your aunt over to meet everyone.

quite some time has passed and yet you've only met barton's and a few lords. from one eligible bachelor to the next, it was the same process. you introduce yourself, dance, ask a bit about each other, jump into talks of marriage and children. it was all a bit overwhelming to say the least.

there's no news on a prince yet but lady chamberlain was holding out for a viscount while your aunt held out for a duke. meanwhile, you just needed someone with charm and charisma to save you from these godawful men of the ton.

"i'm going to get a drink." you announce, one the music ends.

in one of the dim corners of the room there was a refreshment table where you poured a hefty amount of wine into your glass and down as much of it –in a very unlady like manner– as you could before another person could find you.

it wasn't long until someone behind you clears their voice loudly.

"i was unaware that they taught women to drink like soldiers in france..."

you spin around quickly to face the man in front of you. he is gorgeous and... huge. dawned in white puffy shirt and a tight black vest with detailed buttons. he towered over you intimidatingly with a small smirk creeping on his lips from shocked expression.

"i-i deeply apologize, my lord. it was just grape juice." you laugh nervously, avoiding his piercing stare.

"hm..." he hums, lifting his hand up and letting his thumb swiftly glide under your lip to catch the bit of liquid there. you watch in awe as he licks the bit of wine off his thumb with a soft groan. "they must make 'grape juice' different in france."

never in your whole life have you been left so speechless. a gentleman has never done more so than touch your hand, let alone act so scandalous. with a satisfied smirk, the man walks away to join a small group of young women. thank goodness that no one seemed to have noticed.

"miss bowery!" lady chamberlain called after you. "i want you to come meet the howletts."

swiftly, you get back to her as she approach a mother and daughter. both of them were stunningly and wore expensive looking gowns with luxurious jewels. lady chamberlains wide smile only made you grow more anxious.

"meet lady howlett and her daughter, the honorable, marie howlett." lady chamberlain introduced.

"lovely to meet you." you say, bowing gracefully before them.

"where is viscount james?" lady chamberlain asks.

"oh! he should be around here somewhere..." the woman looked behind the two of you until she flagged someone down. “there he is!”

the moment that you looked up at the viscount, you feared your heart might explode right then and there. silently pray to the gods above that he won't mention your previous encounter.

"miss bowery, this is my son, viscount james logan howlett." lady howlett announces proudly.

"what a pleasure to meet you, miss bowery." james smirked, trying to get a rise out of you.

"as is it for me, my lord." you curtsy politely, feeling hot under his gaze.

a cloud of lust fogs james mind at the words, my lord fell from your pretty, slightly berry colored lips. the lower his eyes drift from your face, the tighter his trousers get. every exquisite curve is highlighted by the way that the silk fell on your frame, reminding him of the goddesses he had only seen in the finest of paintings.

"might you wish to accompany me to a dance?" he asks, extending his hand to you.

you nod, offering him your gloved hand in return.

the two of you make your way to the dance floor with everyone else. the orchestra begins and you quickly fall in sync with each other.

"how are you enjoying england?" james asks.

"it's quite lovely." you lie.

"better than france?" he questioned with a small tilt of his head.

"no." you giggle softly. "nowhere on earth is better than home."

"i suppose i cannot argue with that."

"have you journed to france?"

"once. when i was younger, i went with my father. he loved france."

"that's why my mother left england. she fell in love with my father when she visited france."

"they must be true romantics."

"oh, most definitely." you smile.

carefully, logan spins you twice. never letting you stumble over your own two feet like most men would.

"i truly am sorry for earlier, my lord. that was completely unacceptable for a–"

"it's alright, sweetheart." the viscount cut you off with a chuckle. "your secret is safe with me."

james looks down to see your big round eyes sparkle up at him with great appreciation. there's a unique feeling blooming deep in his chest that he can't quite put his finger on.

"i heard from some mamas that you are seeking to wed this season." you say, looking elsewhere as the two of you pull apart.

"seeking is such a complex word." he sighs amusingly.

"i imagine it would be difficult to find a future viscountess."

"you have no idea."

all around you, you can see the women openly fawning over the viscount. some fan themselves while other clutch their jewels with either anger at you or lust for him. any of those women would duel to be in your shoes right now.

"do you have a desire to be viscountess?" his question made your heartbeat increase, pounding in your chest.

as a young girl, you watched your family struggle in order to survive so it would be a lie to say that you don't dream of having a title. you have a father back in france to take care of in his elderly age. but love was your main desire. you would marry a sweet common man as long as he loved you.

"i desire to be loved." you tell him.

the answer caught james off guard. the women of the ton had no issue telling him to his face that they want his tittle or money. none of those women actually cared about love.

"well, my darling, you are quite the fool to be seeking out something as pure as love in a place such as this." james says, pulling you so close that you can feel his heartbeat in his chest and his eyes darken.

"don't be so cock-sure, viscount howlett. i am no fool at all." you glare angrily up at him. "i wish you well on your journey to find such a bird-witted viscountess."

the song ends and you are quick to make an exit. hot on your heels, james follows you outside. perhaps you shouldn't have insulted the viscount to his face but you didn't quite care anymore. this night has been a bust and you aren't any closer to marriage then you were before walking in here.

"miss, bowery..." a man calls, capturing your attention. "would you accompany me to a dance?"

based on the man's appearance, he seems even more important that the viscount. he was definitely the opposite of james. this man wore light grey in places where james wore black. this man had a sweet smile where james had a scowl.

"her dance card is full." the voice behind you threatened.

the gentleman's face fell a little.

"actually, i have one last spot open on my dance card." you smile, showing him the tag tied to your right wrist which had exactly one spot open. "i would love to accompany you..."

"prince harrison." he grins.

you hum, offering your hand. the prince leans down and kissed your gloved fingers before sweeping you off to the dance floor again.

james fumed as he watched you walk away with the prince. lady howlett spots her son alone and walks over to him.

“please tell me that you did not scare off this seasons diamond, james.” lady howlett asked in a low whisper.

“i’m gonna call a carriage” he growls, annoyed.

“dear!”

his mother called after him but he couldn’t care to turn around and stay here any longer.

˖⋆࿐໋

on the carriage ride alone, james is stuck with the image of you. your beauty and the pain in your eyes when james called you a fool. oddly enough, james enjoyed the way you bit back at him. he just wishes that he hadn’t offended you.

apparently you must not be that hurt if you accepted a dance from harrison of all people. not because he wanted to court you but because harrison was barely considered a prince and was a poor excuse of a man. never having to lift a finger a day in his life. never knowing a single struggle. the prince was insufferable.

perhaps it was in james best interest to forget about the beautiful woman he met this evening. she is this seasons diamond after all, desired by too many. james wasn't known to chase the things he desired.

──★

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