No place like it.

Lincoln Schaefer 44

[lincedin]

𝙾𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝.

THREADS 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 MIRROR 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 AESTHETICS 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 INTROSPECT 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

Name: Lincoln Arthur Schaefer Age: Fourty-Four Birthdate: April 18th 1981 (Aries) Hometown: Seattle Washington Current Residence: The Bronx Gender/Pronouns: Cis-Male. He/him Sexuality: Heterosexual Occupation: Watch Commander for the port of New York

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂

Parents: TBD (Mother) TBD (Father) Siblings: TBD (Older Brother) Children: currently none Other: Nephews Pierre Maddox and Francis Schaeffer niece tbd

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 𝙴𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

School: University of Washington Foster School of Business (Bachelors degree in business administration) Spoken Languages: English, Spanish, Chinese (Mandarin and Cantonese), Russian

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙸𝚃𝚂

Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Natural Blonde Height: 6’2”

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈

Lincoln is pragmatic and rule-bound, but not without heart. He has little patience for deception, having seen too much of it in his youth, and believes firmly in fairness. Though reserved, he shows loyalty and care through steady presence rather than grand gestures. To those who know him well, his dry humor is a welcome reminder that beneath the formality lies a man grounded in lived experience.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙶𝚃𝙷𝚂 & 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙴𝚂

In-depth knowledge of trade law and customs enforcement.

Keen perception for inconsistencies in both paperwork and people.

Skilled mediator, able to de-escalate disputes in tense dockside situations.

Reliable and composed under pressure.

Positive Traits: Perceptive, Knowledgeable, Loyal

Negative Traits: Stubborn, Rigid, Dogmatic

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈

Lincoln Arthur Schaefer is a man who believes in earning his place in the world, through discipline, integrity, and quiet perseverance. Born in Seattle in 1981, he forged his own path early, pushing himself through the University of Washington with a single-minded drive to be useful, competent, and reliable. Fluent in multiple languages and armed with a sharp mind, Lincoln has always balanced intellect with pragmatism, seeing the world in terms of rules, fairness, and the tangible impact of one’s actions. Beneath his reserved exterior lies a dry wit and a steady loyalty, visible to those who know him best. Now serving as Watch Commander at the Port of New York, Lincoln navigates the pressures of customs enforcement with a perceptive eye and a calm hand. He thrives on order and clarity, excelling at reading people and paperwork alike, and diffusing tense situations before they spiral out of control. For Lincoln, work is more than a job, it’s the measure of his own meaning, a place where his steadfast dedication and exacting standards define both who he is and the life he’s chosen to build. Yet for all his formality, there is a humanity in his presence: a quiet consistency, a sense of fairness, and the subtle humor that reminds others he is as human as he is disciplined.

[hazalkarahan]

"Mm." she agreed lightly to the stranger not being able to stay on topic. At least he was self-aware, right? Though as he continued she listened, giving a, "Oh I saw the movie." over the top of him as he mentioned Gone Girl. So in short, she couldn't ever read the book because she knew what was going to happen. "The thrill I'm after, sir, is the one that hits me right now with a piano."

[lincedin]

Lincoln let out a quiet laugh, his gaze flicking upward as if half-expecting a piano to break through the ceiling. “Right… I’ll take that as my cue before this turns into a Looney Tunes cautionary tale.” A faint wince touched his smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I may have overstayed my welcome. I’ll keep an ear out for any particularly aggressive concertos and make a strategic retreat while I still can.”

[kennedycamara]

“𝐨𝐡, 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 gestures that carry weight,” kennedy said with a small smirk, the implication clear enough. her daughter was deep in the early teenage phase lately, but kennedy understood it for what it was. stress, hormones, and the slow, uncomfortable process of growing up. and the person you trusted most tended to be the safest place to unload all of it. she gave a small shrug. “but yeah, i get what you’re saying. i just don’t think i’ll ever be the type to…yearn.” she said the word like it tasted vaguely unpleasant. “never been my thing.” she glanced at the books again. “wow. self-betterment. not something you see every day. you sound like an optimist.” at his question she frowned slightly, then sat down. “sometimes,” she admitted. “not about my daughter, but…the world. the fucking city, specifically.” everything felt like it was moving faster than it used to. work was intense. people were tense. and there were only a handful of people she actually trusted these days. “technically an adult, huh?” she tilted her head. “so what type is he? one of those wall street guys who thinks working eighty hours a week is a personality? crypto bro? aspiring podcast host?” a small smirk tugged at her mouth. “or none of the above?”

[lincedin]

Lincoln laughed softly. “I wish he were more discreet, but no—he can’t help showing off. Always drags out old albums, pointing out baby pictures with a faint hint of pride, reminding me he could set me up, or somehow acting like he knows me better than I do. It’s amusing…until my head starts ringing. But his heart’s in the right place, I suppose.”

He leaned back slightly, letting the words settle before continuing. “I think you can always strive to be a little better. When you stop, that’s when you start to feel tired, bored with yourself. You start wondering where you fit into the pulse of the city, how fast it’s moving, and whether you’re keeping up or just getting pushed along.”

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “I guess that makes me an optimist. If I can’t change the city to suit me, I try to keep pace with it. Enough that I don’t feel like one of those ancient tortoises, slow and oblivious, watching everything whiz past. Not always easy, but I figure life’s better when you keep moving, even if it’s just a little faster than feels comfortable.”

[hazalkarahan]

There wasn't ever a high-power that would compel her to read poetry, but she listened to the other regardless. The names and quote he apparently seemed to give her were ones that truly went in one ear and out of the other. "Thank you, I'll consider those." she wouldn't. Considering she had told him she liked thrillers it was disappointing that a man that seemingly enjoyed words, wouldn't have pointed her in a better direction. She couldn't be surprised, however, no, men usually took a while to add two and two. "Are you a teacher or something?"

[lincedin]

Lincoln’s smile lingered, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

“Not a teacher,” he said lightly. “Just someone who occasionally forgets to stay on topic.”

He pushed off the shelf, glancing back to her. “You humored me with the poetry. Feels only fair I return the favor.”

“I lean more toward detective stories myself. Tension that builds, piece by piece. Gone Girl is a sharp one, and The Silent Patient has a way of tightening around you.”

A softer note slipped in. “Though I’ll admit, the season has me drifting toward poetry.”

His gaze settled on her. “What kind of thrill are you after?”

[lorelaixtseng]

"I would think that I would have noticed if it were not intact." Lorelai teased with a lazy smirk because it hadn't need to be said. "I'm glad it meant so much for you to drive my car." She knew he probably meant that it was another sign of her trusting him. Those things that she had decided to do and trust him with and that meant that she cared enough to let him. Maybe that was the truth, maybe it wasn't. She couldn't quite tell in her current frame of mind.

She watched him watch her, just allowing herself to listen with a small laugh leaving her lips. "Well, I am rather convincing, because I am right." Lorelai felt as though he must have read her thoughts when it came to his gift and she was unsure how that was possible. She thought she had done a better job of hiding those thoughts in her features. "Different kinds of luxury?" She didn't quite know what he was talking about now, losing the train of thought he was on.

Lorelai thought perhaps she understood what he meant, "You'd rather I pick something out and you put down the card? Is that what you mean?" She teased a bit as she had never ventured the talk of wealth wiith the man. It was safe to say she made quite a bit of money, but she never thought to ask him what his salary looked like. He didn't seem humiliated or intimidated like most men were by her worth.

She felt his hand once more and squeezed in return before she started to gather herself up to get out of the car. "I'll be honest, I am thinking that I need to see this poem."

[lincedin]

Lincoln’s gaze dipped briefly to the bag at her mention of the poem, then returned to her with a softened smile.

“It’s yours,” he said, his voice warm with quiet certainty. “I wouldn’t dream of keeping it from you now.”

He shifted slightly, angling himself to give her room, though the effort was only half successful. His attention lingered, drawn back to her like a compass already set. Their hands stayed together a moment longer before his fingers slipped free, slow and deliberate rather than abrupt.

“Take your time,” he added, a hint of amusement in his tone, as if he suspected she might not.

As she began opening the bag, his hand moved again, not aimless but unhurried, brushing lightly along her arm in a quiet echo of where they had been connected. The touch felt gentle, almost like a soft encouragement rather than a distraction.

He leaned in just slightly over the center console, close enough to share the moment without crowding it, a trace of playful intent in the way he hovered there. “I will admit,” he murmured, “I am a little invested in your reaction.”

Before pulling back, he lifted her hand once more and pressed a brief, lingering kiss to it. This time he let it go completely, though not without a small pause, like setting something aside he would rather keep.

Settling back into his seat, he exhaled softly, watching her with an easy, expectant calm. There was anticipation there, certainly, but something steadier beneath it, as if the moment itself mattered just as much as whatever she might say next.

[pantheonaurora]

location: central park

status: open

why josephine had decided to pick up a day shift at the hospital was beyond her. they had been unexpectly short staffed and well, the overtime incentive was a little too good to pass up. getting off still during the normal people hours was a bit odd, but also nice from time to time.

spring was slowly approaching in the big apple, the sun shining and everyone seemed to be taking full advantage of it. the blonde found herself sitting on a bench, scrub jacket unzipped as she went to light up a cigarette. the girl was about to munch on some complimentary peanutbutter crackers in her pocket when she spots a familar face.

"don't worry, i was going to share some with the birds and squirrals too. consider me more thoughtful than a disney princess," she joked.

[lincedin]

Lincoln lounged on the bench, letting the sun warm his shoulders as he closed his book around a finger to keep his place. He looked over at her as she sat down, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the squirrels wait their turn.”

He gave a small shrug. “By the way, did your gran’s book club survive that spooky kid story, or is it still giving them nightmares?”

Settling back a little more comfortably, Lincoln let the park chatter drift around them. “You have a talent for making even peanut butter crackers feel like an event. The animals are lucky you’re on their side.” (@pantheonjosephine)

[hazalkarahan]

As he listed off - what she could only assume was poets, she didn't hold any connections to the names at all. The only reason she had mentioned Whitman was because she had watched The Notebook recently. She didn't judge the other for knowing things she did not, she just saw him as a nerd. "There hasn't been one, which is why I'm here." in the bookstore, obviously. "Trying to see if anything stands out - have you got any recommendations?"

[lincedin]

Lincoln leaned casually against the shelf, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If we’re talking poetry that stays with you, I’d have to recommend Mary Oliver. There’s a line in Devotions that always gets me: ‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’ Simple, but it lingers.” He tilted his head, letting a hint of mischief creep in. “For something a little different, you might like The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. It’s not poetry, but the way the words paint the world… it almost feels like it.” "I might get a little carried away, but I can't help it when it comes to sharing good words."

[lorelaixtseng]

The silence was comfortable as she didn't feel the need to fill the air with conversation just for the sake of conversation. Lorelai let her eyes survey the city at night as she felt his hand take hold of hers again. She glanced over his way when he felt his gaze on hers rather than on the road momentarily. An unhurried smile rose to her lips as he said the words she liked most: wasn't she always correct? "This is true, I am fantastic." She teased though her words still rang true to her.

Lorelai was unsure about whether a poem was precisely a gift, but she supposed she would wait to hear it just for the sake of seeing if it could count. Jewelry she could get for herself, clothes she could get for herself, art she could get for herself, anything she could want she could get for herself. Perhaps if she was to think about it though it wasn't that she could get those things for herself, but that someone else would want to get it for her. She was well aware that Lincoln's salary did not meet her those however.

As he parked her car and neither of them made a movement to leave the car, she let out a small exhale before looking over to the man who already had his eyes on her. "What are you thinking about?"

[lincedin]

Lincoln let his hand linger over hers for a moment, the warmth grounding him. He leaned back slightly in the seat, letting the quiet settle comfortably around them. “I was thinking how lucky I am,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not just to be here with you, or to see you after your long day, but that you would let me drive your car. I promise I did my best to keep it intact.” His thumb brushed hers gently.

He looked at her, catching the light in her eyes, and added with a teasing tone, “And I was wondering if you really are always correct. You make it pretty convincing.”

He cleared his throat lightly. “I know it is not some grand gesture or anything expensive, but I wanted to give you something meaningful. I figure there are things I can share with you you might not pick up for yourself, small reminders that there are different kinds of luxury. If we are dipping into that world, I would rather follow your lead. You have much better taste than I ever would.”

He exhaled, letting the words settle, then gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “So what about you? What are you thinking, Lorelai?”

[kennedycamara]

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 through her nose. “clearly you’ve never heard of performative reading before,” she said. “you know. a man posts up with something dense and impressive looking, hoping some woman will notice and strike up a conversation.” her gaze dipped to the poetry at the top of his stack, then the philosophy, then the detective novels anchoring the bottom. “that’s a solid mix, though. you like detective novels?” when he turned the question back on her, she didn’t hesitate. “me? god, no.” she shifted her weight, tucking the book against her chest. “i don’t have the bandwidth to yearn. or date. or spiral over some capitalistic holiday.” a faint shrug. “i have a job that eats my time, kids who eat the rest of it.” her expression softened just a touch. not exactly bitter, just practical. “if i ever look restless, it’s probably just sleep deprivation.” then she lifted her brows at him. “what about you? are the poetry and detective novels substitutes for something, or are you just genuinely well-rounded?”

[lincedin]

“I’m sure you’ll find a little space to rest, or to look and yearn properly when the time comes. Kids have a way of giving pieces of themselves, handmade hearts or gestures that still carry weight.” He scratched the back of his neck, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I worry about feeling disconnected sometimes, so I try to stay well-rounded, read widely, and pay attention. You can find hope in the oddest places, and noticing the little things makes the rest feel more grounded for someone I care about enough to notice them.”

He glanced at the stacks of books around them. “Do you ever worry about feeling out of touch, losing connection with the world, or with your kids? I don’t have any of my own, though I do have a nephew. Technically an adult, but he can be trying at the best of times. Makes me appreciate patience and the quiet, unremarkable moments that keep everything else steady.”

[lorelaixtseng]

She was comfortable in his arms, with no prying eyes she was allowed to do the things she did enjoy without risk of commentary of what it meant. Lorelai enjoyed his closeness as she could feel the words just as much as hear them. "I am not extremely tired, but would enjoy not having to drive." New York was a horrendous place to have a vehicle and rarely did she use it, but considering she knew she'd have to do a lot of transporting for the day she felt it had been for the best. "I did have some espresso right before you came, so I won't fall asleep on you." She teased as she gave another small kiss before moving away.

The sooner they got to the car, the sooner they could get to her place and the sooner she could truly relax. Feeling his hand in hers, she enjoyed it more than she cared to it admit. The brush of his thumb, her fingers clasping around his hand as they finally made it to her car. Smiling as he reassured the quickness she unlocked her car, gingerly placing the flowers he'd gifted her in the back seat along with the bag before handing the keys off to Lincoln. "You know, I noticed you omitted an answer to my question about the gift. Is it because my guess was correct?"

[lincedin]

Lincoln took the keys as he stepped into the car, pausing only to adjust the seat and mirrors. He made sure everything felt right, the familiar mechanics of someone else’s car a small comfort, before settling in and buckling up. He glanced at Lorelai, noticing the ease in her posture, the way her fingers laced with his.

Once she was ready, he started the engine, letting the quiet hum fill the space between them. The city noises drifted past as they pulled out, Lincoln keeping a steady pace, careful but unhurried.

“You know,” he said, his tone casual but edged with something warmer, “aren’t you usually correct? It’s one thing I like about you. You can’t help but make a proper deduction.” His thumb brushed against hers, a brief, deliberate touch, a wordless acknowledgment of their closeness without breaking the rhythm of the drive.

Lorelai’s small smile met him in the shared glance, and he felt the weight of the moment, not needing words, only the comfort of proximity.

Lincoln guided them through the familiar streets, a calm focus anchoring him, and finally, they arrived at her place. He parked with care, cutting the engine, but lingered a moment with a glance at her, letting the quiet between them hold its own significance.

The car was still, warm, and waiting. It was enough.

[rileyjustin]

"I do most of my reading on a Kindle." Like most people nowdays, or so he thought. But truthfully, Justin was there working on a case - his mission that day was to talk to a couple of college that he'd traced back to the bookstore. Small talk was part of his daily basis though; nothing he couldn't handle. "I tend to stay away from fiction - memoirs are more my cup of tea." It helped with figuring others out, or so he told himself.

[lincedin]

“If I want to read on a screen, I just use my phone. Do you find it easier to get into a reading mindset with a separate device, or is it more about having the space? Besides, I like the feel and smell of a book. New or used, they carry history.”

Lincoln glanced at Justin’s choice. “What kind of memoirs do you prefer? More recent, or historical? Some of those can be fascinating, though I admit I tend to enjoy the ones that read like fiction, stories that feel like a life I can fall into.”

[dadivosos]

" linc --- " francis paused narrowing his eyes at the other's explanation. " it's one of the busiest restaurants in the city --- how is it just a place for you ? " sometimes he didn't understand the other , must've been their father's genes. " i don't know -- they've got like noise cancelling tech so i'll still hear you but less of you. " romy hadn't complained once since he gave them to her , they definitely helped somewhat. " oh , she's already seen my baby pictures , she said and i quote --- i was the most handsome , most beautiful baby in all the lands. " romy definitely had a way with words and sometimes he exaggerated them to his benefit.

[lincedin]

“You know,” Lincoln said, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “there’s always a little pocket of solitude if you look for it. Central Park, a crowded street, even a busy mall. Maybe it’s a higher grade of compartmentalization, or maybe it’s just training your mind to carve out its own space.” He glanced at the headphones in Francis’s hand. “Those noise-canceling ones might help, sure, but I think you’ll still want a listener for your baby-picture stories. Some things, like being the most handsome or beautiful baby in all the lands, aren’t meant to be experienced alone.”

[lincedin]

“Maybe it’s just me being modest,” Lincoln said, a hint of warmth threading his voice, “but I feel like the fortunate one.” He shifted slightly, easing his weight back, posture relaxed rather than guarded. “Francis gives as much as he takes, even when it comes wrapped in sarcasm. Knowing he’s in my corner matters. Lorelai too, though that’s a different sort of constant.” His gaze flicked briefly, then returned to Romy. “And you, as well. People notice more than they think.”

He listened as much as he spoke, letting the quiet between words breathe. “There’s nothing wrong with having an unconventional past,” he continued. “Most lives worth examining are stitched together from decisions that didn’t look good on paper at the time. The important thing is whether you understand why you made them, and whether you can live with the person they shaped. You seem comfortable with that. That counts for something.”

A small, thoughtful pause followed. “Taking things easy doesn’t come naturally to me either,” he admitted. “It’s a skill you have to practice, sometimes deliberately. Stepping out of the current for a moment. Letting your mind loosen its grip.” A faint smile touched him. “That can look like staring at the sky, nursing a cold drink, or throwing ill-timed philosophy at a nephew until he pretends not to listen.”

He met her eyes again. “You’re allowed that quiet, Romy. You’ve earned it.”

[romymccready]

“𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡,” 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 quietly. “nothin’ wrong with it. but it made things…complicated.” her fingers traced the edge of the counter again, absentminded but grounding. “for me and my sister,” she clarified. “we couldn’t exactly make money the normal ways. no paperwork. so we got creative.” she knew she didn’t need to give him details about what was in that text. he wasn’t asking, anyway. but something in her wanted him to know she wasn’t just some heartless fire-starter who was dating his nephew. “i can live with the choices i made. i would’ve done anythin’ for my sister.” she said it simply. she studied him a moment, curious in that quiet way.

“you ever had anyone you felt that kind of loyalty toward?” she asked. “where you’d do anythin’ for ’em and not even blink?” her head tilted slightly. she wondered if that was universal, or if it was something carved into her by the way she was raised, loyalty and devotion drilled into her during formative years. she stayed quiet when he mentioned deserving peace. the concept felt foreign…deserving things. yet lately she’d been encircled by people who insisted she was worthy of good things. “you’re kind, lincoln. thanks.”

“how long you been practicin’ this whole takin’-it-easy thing?” she asked, faint humor threading back in. “you any good at it now? i used to be real good at steppin’ outta the current,” she admitted. “whole life felt like floatin’ above it.” not like dissociation, just observing. “but lately i’ve been tryin’ to step into things instead. dinners. conversations. relationships.” she glanced at him. “it’s harder.”

[lincedin]

Lincoln went quiet for a moment, the way he did when something landed heavier than expected. Not uncomfortable silence, just space. “I don’t think that kind of loyalty is rare,” he said eventually. “But I do think the circumstances that forge it are. Some people get to grow into it gently. Others have it carved into them early, whether they asked for it or not.”

He glanced toward the counter, then back to her. “I can’t say I’ve had it in quite the same way, not with siblings. I’ll leave it at that. But I recognize it. And I respect it.” A pause. “Lately, I feel something close to it for Francis. For Lorelai too, more than I expected. Maybe that’s naivety, or maybe it’s just what happens when the job stops being the only thing that makes sense.”

He took a slow breath. “As for this whole taking-it-easy thing… I’m not sure anyone’s ever good at it. I think it’s more about practice than talent. Letting things register without letting them run you over. Feeling the small cuts without bleeding out over them. That balance gets tricky when one bad day can make you question everything.”

A faint smile flickered. “I try to keep my hard edges where they belong, on the job. I’m not a cop. I keep the ports safe. Borrowing every possible worry just dulls your instincts eventually.” He shrugged lightly. “I’m learning that stepping into things, dinners, conversations, people, takes more courage than floating above them. Harder, sure. But maybe that’s the point.”

[hazalkarahan]

As she listened to the stranger talk she found that her attention seemed to fizzle out, her interest briefly flickering over his shoulder with the amount that was being said to her. "Oh I like the kind with the unexpected psychos." she answered easily, seeing that as a fit enough response for his question. "Do you read Whitman?"

[lincedin]

“Ah, lovable friend or trusted detective to the psycho killer. It’s a good twist, though hard to recommend without spoiling.” Lincoln laughed, then eased back a step. “Whitman, Kerouac, Plath, though I won’t inflict a syllabus on you.”

His smile softened. “Whitman especially. I am large, I contain multitudes. But tell me, what’s the last book that actually held your attention?”

[dadivosos]

" oh yeah -- i go to her restaurant all the time. the food really is good. " there was no joke nor denying what he knew to be true. " oh definitely , it's what attracted her to me. " if anything romy hated that he had a job , she'd told him once a bit ago. " i wouldn't be so convinced , you have a certain way with words that sometimes makes me think i should invest in some ear plugs , " lips curled into a grin , meaning no harm by his words , he'd always teased the older man this way. " i think my mom might already know lorelai , i'm telling you --- her restaurant's really popular , i don't know how you don't know this. " he paused. " everyone likes romy though i don't know if the magnitude of tattoos would throw her off , not that she judges. you know how my mom is -- practically a saint. "

[lincedin]

Lincoln shrugged, a small, wry smile tugging at his mouth. “Maybe I got lost in thinking of it as a place just for the two of us. I know it’s usually busy, and the food’s good, but I see it more as a backdrop for Lorelai. Popular as it is, I don’t really go there for the food.”

He grinned at Francis. “And about the earplugs, you’re tone-deaf enough that I think they’d make things worse. No need to invest in them, trust me.”

"I get what you're saying. Romy's reputation is well deserved. I'm sure her and your mom both qualify for sainthood, and can bond over embarrassing stories about you. She might even have some visual aids if you're lucky. You can show her how beautiful of a baby you are

[lorelaixtseng]

She looked to him with a smile as he mentioned that he still held onto the fortune that had been in his fortune cookie during their first meeting. It had been an easy start to something that she at the time thought might last a little while. But, she was pleasantly surprised that she still enjoyed his company. There were potentially only two other people she could say fell into that category. "A sentimental man." Lorelai grinned at him, having almost said that he was her sentimental man, but still she was not the type to claim someone fully.

Lincoln's words made her smile even more, he knew exactly what to say it would seem. "Keep the competition interesting, I see. Well now I'm even more intrigued." Her eyebrow rose at his comment, hinting at what his gift was to her whether unintentionally or not. "Oh? Did you get me a poem for Valentine's Day?" She wondered how she felt about that. She was a materialistic woman, however she did a good job of buying anything for herself when she wanted it without any qualms. So, it wasn't like there was something in particular he could have gotten her. Not to mention her taste was quite expensive.

As he confirmed her suspicions even more, she laughed at the last bit of his comment. "Not something I typically have to work about with you," she gave him a small wink as she moved a hand to the back of his neck, gently rubbing it as she moved to brush her lips up against his. "Perhaps I'll wait to open it then until we get back to my place." It wasn't like there were prying eyes around them to observe them, but she wanted the privacy when she finally read what he'd either found or written for her.

"Aren't I always in charge?" She proffers her unoccupied hand to him as she gives another wink. "Do you want to drive my car?" Lorelai figured he probably got here not by his own car since it wasn't typical transportation. She was in need of a pick me up since she was starting to get tired.

[lincedin]

Lincoln lingered in the kiss a moment longer than usual, savoring the feel of her lips against his and the quiet thrill of her initiating it. When he drew back just enough to breathe, he wrapped his arms gently around her waist, pulling her close. His eyes flicked briefly to her lips, a fleeting thought of another kiss passing through his mind, before he let himself settle into the embrace. He spoke softly, voice just inches from her enticing lips. “I can drive us back if you’re feeling a little tired,” he said, letting the closeness linger. “Give you a chance for the coffee or tea to kick in, unless you’d rather stretch out for a quick nap on the way.” He paused, giving her the choice, but staying steady, a quiet anchor in the moment. Being here with her, in the place they had first met, felt almost sacred. The after-hours quiet amplified the small intimacies, the teasing flicker of her wink, the playful hint of taking charge, the way she moved with confidence and ease, and Lincoln could not help smiling, a little giddy at how natural it all felt. He drew a slow breath, letting the warmth of her hand, the gentle tug of her presence, and the soft echo of her laugh settle around him. He brushed his thumb lightly across hers, content to linger close, letting the day stretch quietly between them. “We will get back in good time,” he added, voice calm and assured, tethering them both to the moment, letting it breathe without hurry.

[kennedycamara]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛 marking her page though she hadn’t gotten past the first paragraph. “valentine’s doesn’t slow anything down. if anything, it makes people restless. too much expectation in one twenty-four-hour period if you ask me.” a small shrug. “at least books don’t care if you forget about them for a while.” a habit kennedy knew all too well. her life was a revolving door of half-finished novels, bookmarks eternally stuck in early chapters. her eyes flicked to the stack in his hands, then back to his face. “you buying all those or just trying to look well-read?”

[lincedin]

Lincoln glanced down at the eclectic stack in his hands, poetry, philosophy, a few hard-boiled detective novels. “So you think this makes me look well-read? Do people really parade through bookstores with a pile of books just waiting for an attractive stranger to comment?” He gave a small, wry shrug. “No, these are for me. And I have to agree, Valentine’s does make people restless. Not usually for books, though, unless they’re a substitute for something else. Is there someone you’re trying to forget, or forgive me for prying, but I’ve always thought it easier to vent to strangers. Less chance of things getting back to the wrong ears and often there’s a story there, especially this close to the holiday.” (@kennedycamara)