#that i called him the doctor the whole time

[kaciidubs]

For the Kids

I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie! ❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.9k ❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣  ❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.” 

Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.

 This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally. 

He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.

“Mr. Bang?”

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.

Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.

“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”

“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly,  “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”

Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”

“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”

Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.

“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”

The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.

“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”

“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”

A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”

You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”

It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.

Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.

Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.

From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.

Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.

“Wanna see my drawing?”

He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”

Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”

The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.

“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”

Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”

She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.

Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.

With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.

“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.

“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”

“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”

“Hyung!”

Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.

Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”

You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”

His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation. 

“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”

“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”

“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”

Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”

“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”

Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”

You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.

Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.

“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”

“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”

“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”

Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”

“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”

Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”

“Don’t worry,” digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”

Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”

He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”

“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.

Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.

‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes , @caitlyn98s , @ch4nn13luv , @ihrtlix , @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 , @maximumkillshot , @y-ur--i , @acker-night , @dreamescapeswriting , @specialstay , @s00buwu , @tinyelfperson , @jj-stay , @katsukis1wife , @inlovewithmusician , @keen-li , @armystay89 , @main-character0 , @vampcharxter , @ddyskz , @prettymiye0n , @bbgnyx , @bahng-chrizz , @milknhoneyracha , @hann1bee , @palindrome969 , @newhope8 , @luminouskalopsia , @kpopsstuffs , @starquokka , @wolfs-howling , @laylasbunbunny , @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella , @butterflydemons ,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[pablitogavii]

Please new story 🙏🏻

Ojos de su papá

For those that loved dad!Gavi <3

You've had one of the most trying days at the clinic where you work as a doctor so you couldn't wait to get home to get some rest.

The moment you entered the house, you heard Matteo's loud cries and your head started pouding immediately. Looking at your watch, you knew it was his bottle time.

Pablo was in the living room with the little boy in his arms trying to pack for his evening training while telling him how "mami will be home soon" which you found so adorable.

"Aii que pasa precioso mio? Papi forgot your bottle?" you say walking to them but Pablo showed you three different bottles on the table that he tried to use to feed the little boy.

"He only let's you do it, amor..he loves you more" Pablo said while pouting and you giggled shaking your head and taking the little boy in your arms as he started to calm down.

"It's normal Pablito..he's used to me breastfeeding him but he loves you just as much. He's a mini version of his papi, right Matteo?" you say and Pablo looks at the little boy in your arms immediately opening his mouth as you brought one of the bottles to his lips.

"Go get ready for training while I feed him cariño" you say but Pablo noticed the way your temples were scrunched and he wanted to know what made you feel bad.

"Amor, if you're tired I can just cancel training and then double up tomorrow..or after the game?" he said touching your hand and you smiled that he was always so careful and gentle with you. always makes you his priority.

"It's okay, mi amor te lo juro. I just had a long day but me and Matteo will eat something and get some sleep, right precioso mio?" you said kissing the little boys forehead while he sucked diligently on the bottle.

"Tan bien. I will be right back, just to grab my shoes" Pablo said leaving to the closet as you sat down letting your muscles relax while looking at the little hungry boy in your arms.

His big brown eyes are looking at you softly while he sucked on the bottle that it made your heart melt. Those same eyes that Pablo had when he looked at you with love for the very first time now has your son..and it was a beautiful feeling.

"Mis ojitos morenos lindos..tienes ojos de su papá mi amor.." you said gently to your son not knowing that Pablo was there listening and blushing profusely.

Ever since you had a baby, everyone said he was a mini version of Pablo and it made your husband both timid and proud. Having a son with a woman he loves so much and hearing her call their shared eyes beautiful made his whole body shiver.

"Bien. Pablo you will be late if you don't leave now!" you finished feeding Matteo and reminded your husband who was lost in thoughts walking towards you on the couch and laying his own head on the free spot on your lap.

"Amor, pero I want to stay with the two of you tonight.." Pablo said giving you his infamous puppy dog eyes that Matteo will surely learn to use later on you as well.

"Stop using your eyes to get everything you want Pablo!' you said softening when his eyes became bigger as the pout found itsway to his face.

"But you let Matteo do it!" Pablo was complains like a baby and you giggled looking at your son which has an identical look on his face. Damn it the two of them and their pretty eyes!

"But he's a baby Pablo" you say and Pablo nuzzled his face into your neck.

"Well, aren't I still your baby amor?" he asked and you sighed knowing where this is going.

"Si, you're both my babies" you answered and he smiled looking up at you again this time pecking your lips gently.

"And you said we have the same eyes, no?" he added making you smiled and nod your head.

"Then we can both use them to make you say si, amor" he giggled leaning in closer to Matteo so both of them could look at you with their same dark brown eyes.

"Bueno..si! But..make sure to tell Xavi you were not feeling well, bueno?" you say and Pablo cheered kissing your lips while Matteo giggled making you both smile. He was happy his papi is staying tonight too.

"Te lo prometo!" he said kissing your lips before sitting up and pulling you in his arms while Matteo started napping in yours.

"He might have mis ojos, amor..but he has your cute little nose" Pablo said making you blush and look at the perfect little boy sleeping in your arms.

[tellmealittlelie]

Children with Ghost

Ghost is nervous at first when you express that you want children, worrying about being like his father. You do your best to soothe his worries, knowing that they are completely unrealistic.

He supports you 24/7, maybe to the point of a little too smothering, but he will back off it it upsets you. He makes sure that you are comfortable, bringing you heaps of comfortable blankets and pillows.

Cravings at midnight? He already has everything prepared and ready for you. Doctors visits? If he can't drive you himself he'll order ask one of his trusted lieutenants to drive you.

When you give birth, he looks almost ready to faint. He holds your hand the whole time and encourages you even when you yell at him to stop fucking joking when you're pushing what feels like a god-dammed bowling ball out of your crotch.

Simon can't help but fall in love with the baby, holding them close to his chest. He loves his silly little geese with all his heart.

For names he's open to anything and loves it when you suggest the name Thomas if you have a son.

Forecast for the next 70 years?: Dad jokes all day, everyday.

He teaches his children self defense almost as soon as they can walk. When he isn't there he wants them to know how to defend themselves.

You love going out for family activities and making all the memories that you can. You can expect Simon to always play with the kids, secretly loving it when he and his daughter have fictional tea parties and when he sons challenge him to a Nerf-gun battle. He wins, every single time, he's not going to lie about his mad skills, doll.

He whines when you join in and it's him against all of you. He still wins but the victory always includes them (even if they are technically eliminated) jumping on him in a pile or a bear-hug.

Your children love their father more than anything and mourn it when he leaves on missions. However, you make sure that you have phone and video calls regularly.

Baby, I love you, but hold on a sec, I gotta save the world.

[bellasprettywords]

Parallel Parking (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: When Olivia Rodrigo said "I can't even parallel park" lives were changed. I saw this really cute video and I couldn't help myself

y/n – your name

Warnings: Use of the word "shit", and I can't parallel park, so this would be a dream scenario for me

Word count: 940

My Masterlist

Part of your daily routine included getting to work at least with 20 minutes of anticipation in order to find a good parking space; but today your alarm didn’t go off on time, your heater broke down, and you were completely out of bagels and cereal, so naturally, your morning wasn’t going great, and you were afraid you’d come into work late.

The clock on the dashboard of your car signaled 7:50 am as you were pulling up to the parking lot, which meant you were still on time for work, but definitely the good parking spots were going to be taken.

“Shit, shit shit” you muttered under your breath as you were finishing your third lap through the parking lot, when suddenly, you heard someone call your name. You turned your head and you could see Doctor Spencer Reid waving his arm up as if he was calling you. Shit you knew Spencer because you were coworkers at the BAU, but you couldn't say you were friends, merely acquaintances, as you’ve joined the team while he was away in prison and the times you’d spent together were awkward, but polite to say the least. You slowly drove towards the Doctor, who now seemed a little exasperated, as instead of turning the car around, you decided to give another lap through the parking lot.

“Good morning Doctor Reid” you said rolling down your window with a smile that was trying to cover up the fact that you were starving, he made you nervous and if you couldn’t park in the next five minutes, you’d be late for the briefing

“Is it really a good morning? You’ve been driving through this parking lot for at least 10 minutes” he said looking impatiently at the watch resting on his wrist

“I… I… It has been kind of a rough morning, but everything’s fine, I’ll be up there for the briefing in a couple of minutes” you said trying to sound confident even when you were almost certain you’d have to find parking somewhere outside the FBI Academy

“Just park over there, and let’s go” Spencer said pointing to a free parking space where you’d have to parallel park

“Oh… sure… just…” you stuttered unable to find the words to properly communicate that you couldn't parallel park, without sounding like a child

“What is it? You don’t know how to parallel park?” Spencer said furrowing his brow and with a small smile beginning to form at his lips

“I just… I never really do it” you said, feeling your cheeks warming up and gaining a reddish color as his lips curled into a cute smile

“Alright, step out, I’ll park it for you” Spencer said opening the driver’s door and offering you his hand to step out of the car

“No no, no way Doctor Reid” you said completely embarrassed at the situation, and feeling the red from your cheeks spread through your whole face

“Just take my hand, I’ll park it for now, and later we can come down, and I’ll show you how to do it” he said with a sweet smile that made your stomach flutter. You took his hand and he helped you out with a swift movement; you walked to the sidewalk and watched as Spencer parked your car with ease.

Sure, you weren’t really friends, or knew each other a lot, but he definitely was cute to look at. Your mind started to wander; you couldn’t peel your eyes off of him as he placed his arm over the passenger’s seat to get a better look at the parking spot he was going to occupy; you stared at him, carefully examining the way his hands gently held the steering wheel, almost as careful as he held your hand; the way his profile looked almost angelical with his long curls framing his face and the soft beard that covered his jaw… Spencer got out of the car and walked towards you, with your eyes were glued to his figure, taking in every detail in hopes of keeping it safe in your mind. Your brain was a mush, when suddenly your train of thought was interrupted by your stomach growling

“Next time you stare, try to keep your mouth closed” Spencer said jokingly as he handed you your car keys

“I… I wasn’t” you stuttered when it happened again, once more and as if this whole situation wasn’t embarrassing enough, your stomach growled again, this time louder. This time, you were ready for the earth to open under your feet and just crawl into it

“Here, take this; it may not be breakfast, but it’s something” Spencer said handing you a white paper bag he retrieved from his messenger bag

“Oh, no, thank you, Doctor Reid, but I’m alright” you lied low-key praying that your stomach wouldn’t give away how hungry you were

“Please, take it y/n, and please, just call me Spencer, I’m not that old, you know?” he insisted, this time offering you a warm, reassuring smile, and you couldn’t help but chuckle

“Thank you… for everything” you said shyly as the two of you walked together towards the building

“Don’t thank me just yet, I still have to teach you how to parallel park” Spencer said, opening the door for you

“Oh, so you were serious?” you asked a little surprised, mostly because you thought he was joking when he said he’d teach you

“Of course I’m serious! You can’t keep arriving into the office freakishly early just because you can’t park” he added laughing as the two of you made your way into the elevator

[storm-and-starlight]

revisiting my opinions on which doctors could pull off Heaven Sent

could do it with minimal alterations to the original episode's plot and dialogue

Twelve - obviously

Eight - could 100% pull off the speeches and the angst and, of course, the memory loss. The episode would definitely be focused a little more on the great tragedy of dying over and over and over again just in the hopes of making it through enough loops to break out, and Eight would be much much more of a sad wet cat about it all, but he could totally pull it off.

Seven - would take a bit more tweaking than Eight (specifically to change the focus of the episode to the puzzle of it all, finding the right room and figuring out the secret of the Veil), but would 100% punch his way through the wall and be able to pull off the speeches.

could maybe do it? but with pretty major edits

Four - definitely has the charisma and the ability to give the speeches, but I don't know if the speeches as written would fit well into how Four talks, and he'd also need the same tweaking at Seven to make it more about solving the mystery, rather than the very atmospheric style of the original. The wall scene would also probably have to be reworked, since Four doesn't really seem like the type to punch through it in the exact same way as Twelve.

Three - could and would punch through the wall and would do it in half the time of Twelve but couldn't carry off the angst or the atmosphere, so you'd need some pretty dramatic rejiggering of the major stylistic choices in order to make it work. Honestly, you might have to really lean into a, like, horror/thriller kinda thing, with the pursuit of the Veil?

could pull off a focus episode but would need a fundamentally different style

Ten/Fourteen - absolutely has the screen presence but they need someone to talk to in order to get it, and the same is true of their problem-solving style. They need someone to bounce off of as an antagonist and as a companion -- basically, they need the same setup as Wild Blue Yonder, which is basically exactly what Fourteen's version of Heaven Sent would be anyways. (Also Ten doesn't do speeches like Twelve does, and definitely wouldn't punch through the wall -- his problem-solving style leans more towards the whole "push a single button that sets off a chain reaction that solves everything" rather than sheer stubborness. He doesn't have the attention span for the wall.)

Nine - Nine also has the screen presence but his comes when he's angry at something, which means that he needs something to yell at, so he would also need another speaking being present in the episode for him to get really really mad at. Think Dalek but without the Rose subplots?

probably not (note: the major reason why none of these work for Heaven Sent is because they're all Doctors that work best with an ensemble cast around them -- they sacrifice intensity and screen-presence for the sake of letting other characters shine)

Eleven - doesn't have the screen presence for that kind of intensity, alas. He could pull off the speeches in his own style, but he's not hypnotic while doing them the same way Twelve is, and he definitely doesn't have the type of personality to pull off the wall. His best emotional episodes are smaller and closer to the heart, and Heaven Sent is anything but small.

Five - could not pull off the speeches or the wall or the puzzle. He's a sweetheart and a golden retriever but he's not nearly dramatic enough to carry a solo episode like that.

Two - same as Five, really

One - just... no. I can't pull out any reasons (it might just be that he's from an era of television that was so very different in how it constructed stories), but no

no clue

Fifteen - hasn't been around long enough for me to get a sense of his personality

Thirteen - never really had a consistent personality in the first place. or any good emotional episodes so I don't feel like I know her well enough to make a judgement call

Six - just straight-up haven't seen very much of his run so I couldn't say how he'd fit in Heaven Sent.

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024 #11, secret

Read parts 1-9 on AO3 here

++++++

The Perfect Place - Part Ten

They were riding in the backseat of a taxi to 221b Baker Street when Sherlock was struck by an unexpected and most unwelcome bout of nervousness.

Would John like the flat? Or would he decline like the previous nine potential flatmates? Sherlock gnawed his lower lip. Will I lose John as quickly as I have found him?

Sherlock remembered when one week ago, he had whined about this to Mike Stamford (Sherlock prefered to call it “complained”). As in being unable to find a suitable flatemate.

He told Mike that so far, every time a candidate had come to take a look at 221b, they had more or less quickly fled, using all kinds of excuses. Dumb ones like “sorry, gotta dash, I forgot to switch off the stove”, plausible ones like “bugger, it’s late, I need to be at work now” or ridiculous ones like the faked phone call that claimed “emergency at home, the neighbour’s run over my hamster with the lawn mower”. And so on and on.

Some of the disturbed looking candidates had kept their composure and simply went down the stairs whereas others had resembled headless chicken, about to run into a wall on their hurried way out.

Whichever way they ran, run they did. Why this always had happened every time remained a secret to Sherlock, one he could not solve. For all his observational and deductive skils, Sherlock stayed clueless about what scared them off.

(To everybody else it would be quite obvious.

The aspiring flatmates were greeted by a real human skull on the mantel and discovered a whole armoury of deadly weapons in the flat, reaching from a razor-sharp looking dagger over an antique Turkish scimitar to a literally bloody whaler’s harpoon. One peeked into the frigde and found himself face to foot with a human foot that was beginning to decompose. Another one was deeply troubled by the scrapbook with gory crime scene photos on the desk. A third one found the kitchen table strewn with the remnants of guinea pig embryos.

Sherlock found all of these circumstances perfectly normal, of course. Whereas these were deeply disturbing to the flatmates-to-be and triggered their instict of self-preservation. They presumed they would cohabitate with a murderous madman and left as long as they could.)

Anyway, after Sherlock’s complaining (whining) to Mike about his predicament, Mike had come up with a name (John Watson) claiming this man could be the pot to Sherlock’s kettle. Sherlock wanted to know more about this mystery man but Mike had simply smiled and said “Go and deduce him yourself, Sherlock.”

Sherlock’s interest had been piqued but it died a sudden death when he found out that the address Mike had given him was “Bernie’s Bed Shop”.

How could Mike assume that Sherlock would be interested in sharing his flat with a stupid salesman of boring beds? Sherlock had grumbled for three days about Mike’s proposal but then the next two other candidates had run from the flat and Sherlock had caved and had gone to the Bed Shop for a stake-out.

As soon as Sherlock had seen John limping to the shop and opening the front door with a trembling hand, he had deduced all about this fascinating doctor-soldier-salesman. Sherlock immediately fell in love.

In the present, Sherlock decided to be extra cautious and give John a heads-up about the state the flat was in.

“Erm, John, a warning concerning the flat, though. It’s a bit cluttered at the moment (a blatant understatement) with all my moving boxes and the things that have not yet found their final place (and most of them also never would). So please, don’t let this scare you away.”

(Let’s attest it to Sherlock’s current nervousness and distracted state of mind (palace) that he even considered such a warning might discomfort John when all it did was the exact opposite.)

“It won’t, I promise.” John said and became more curious by the minute. What possible dangers might lurk there in secret parts of the flat?

+++++

It's late and I`ve just finished this, so please don't mind possible any typos.

tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peanitbear @raina-at

[frozenjokes]

I’m Really Sorry About The Whole ‘Crush On My Alter Ego’ Thing, But We Could Still Totally Make This Work

Grian woke up early to a harsh alarm as he had every day since Scar’s.. confession..

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but it probably would in an hour or two, so Grian wasted no time getting right on his morning routine. Which is to say. Doom scrolling for at least an hour before actually getting up. Though before choosing one of many social media platforms to waste his time with, he checked his texts, expecting to find a meme or work schedule change from Cub, and instead:

Good morning sunshine👊👊👊👊👊!!! ❤️ Time to get ready for another day of stopping crime and KICKING ASS👉👊👊‼️⚡️⚡️⭐️✨✨💥💥💥💥 I would say I hope you slept well.. but I KNOW you did and that your going to have a certifiably SLAY DAY⭐️💥⭐️💥⚡️⚡️⚡️ I just wanted YOU to know that your killing it (👊👊👊👊👊👊) and you’re awesome and very cute😳 like cUtEgUy you know and everyone loves you❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️Me included!! Can’t wait to see you today🫵🫵👊👊🫡💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 *dhoots arrow* HOTGUY

It went on for quite a bit longer, but Grian had seen enough actually, and consequently was no longer inclined to stay awake. This would be a problem for future Grian.

Future Grian was not very happy with past Grian when he woke up a few hours later, stumbling in his disoriented state to the kitchenette for coffee. Cub was at the kitchen table scrolling through his phone, and once Grian had the presence of mind to interrogate him, he pulled up the text, shoving his phone in Cub’s face.

“What is this. Did you have something to do with this? Did you write this for him? That’s probably something you’d do. What’s your prerogative here?”

Cub took a long moment to read, a small smile creeping across his face before outright laughing, “Oh, this is great.” Cub gently took Grian’s phone to keep reading, adjusting his glasses, “It just keeps going. How long do you think he spent typing this?”

“I don’t know! I don’t care! What the hell am I supposed to do? Why is he even texting me in the first place?”

“I’m failing to see how this is a big deal. He’s probably just sorry about the Micah thing and this is how he’s chosen to express that. Oh- here. ‘You don’t have to worry about seeing Micah again because I killed him. He’s gone.-‘ several explosions emojis ‘-I also tried to kill HotGuy but when I brought it up to one of my buddies who’s in with the higher ups he said No No Definitely Not Do Not Bring This Up To Anyone Else Ever For Your Own Safety so I’m feeling a little bit more insecure about my place in the world but that’s okay! I mean I know my life has always been in the hands of government doctors but I didn’t actually think through those implications until right now. You know me though, I’ll just keep doing my best! HaHa!’ Oh god. That’s a lot more text with very few emojis. Do these things not have character limits? I don’t think he’s okay actually. This just keeps going.”

“The- Okay, how am I supposed to be upset at him after you just read all that out to me? This is not fair. Can we just put that aside for later because how the fuck am I supposed to look at Scar in even remotely the same way after Micah- You can not possibly understand, Cub, I told Micah everything. We like- connected! And it was just fucking HotGuy the whole time! The guy I can’t fucking stand!”

“Out of costume I think he prefers you just call him Scar.”

“Okay. Sure. Fine. Scar fucked my brain! How can he even expect me to look at him the same way! He just let me think for all that time he was a different guy! Do you know how crazy that is? He talked shit ABOUT HIMSELF constantly! He tricked me!” Still, after a whole week to think about it, Grian couldn’t make sense of that. That he had met someone, made a real connection with a real person, but he hadn’t, not actually, because all of it was a facade. It was just Scar. But it didn’t feel like just Scar- it felt like Micah. Micah, who was just an act. Micah who he’d never see again. And maybe that hurt the most. That he’d lost someone like that. That he’d lost a friend. Someone who he thought might be able to be more than a friend.

“If it helps I think he has serious enough issues with his identity that he was not just ‘Scar but playing a character.’ Micah was a different person to him, I think.”

“Yeah.” Grian’s shoulders sagged, the idea not much of a comfort, “That. I got some idea of that. He was asking me a lot of questions about alter egos when-“ Grian cut himself off to groan loudly, “This is so stupid. This is so stupid. He needs to go directly to therapy for weeks at a time so I don’t have to see him for at least another month.”

Cub shrugged, “Maybe it would be good for you to see him. Maybe you should go in today.”

“How would this help me.” Grian glared, but Cub wasn’t looking up, still reading-

“I don’t know,” Cub said, setting Grian’s phone down on the table to return his focus to his own coffee, “I just kinda want you to.”

“Seriously.”

“I do. You’ve both been a bit of a wreck all week, maybe this’ll clear the air. And unless you plan on never speaking to Scar again, which is not practical for your work or your home life, you’re going to have to tear the bandaid off at some point. If he wants to apologize, you should let him say what he has to say at the very least. You don’t have to forgive him.”

“You- Are you in on this? I think you’re in on this.”

“I didn’t know about the text. Honestly, the majority of that message comes off as very.. in the moment. I don’t think that was planned. But he has a plan. No idea what. He wouldn’t tell me. It’ll probably be funny though.”

“So do you want this to fix me or do you want to laugh at me?”

Cub waved a hand dismissively, not looking up from his coffee. “I want to laugh at Scar.”

“Great.”

“You should go to work though.”

“I know your motives, Cub.”

Cub only shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m also just curious. I want to know what he does. Don’t you? Wouldn’t it be sad if he planned some sort of big I’m Sorry event for you and you never showed?”

“This is extremely appealing to me.”

“But then you’ll never know what it was. Or if it even happened at all.”

“Scar will text you.”

“He might not.”

Grian scoffed. “If you want to see what Scar has done so badly then you can go and see it for yourself.”

“You think security would let me in?” Cub looked a bit too excited by that idea, the kind of expression that crossed his face holding Great Intention. Always a terrifying look on Cub, and definitely not something to be encouraged lest he get himself arrested.

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

Cub deflated (a great relief), but didn’t budge on his prior sentiment. “You should go.” Grian rolled his eyes.

“Well I am going, I want to go, but I'm not trying to see any of Scar. If he wants to talk to me he can chase me down. I’m not playing into anything he has planned.”

“Oh,” Cub blinked, then looked back at his phone, “Great. My job’s done then.”

“You are in on this!”

“I maintain my innocence. Hope it’s a good day though.”

“It won’t be.”

“If you say so.”

Grian rolled his eyes, taking his coffee off the maker and heading back to his room. He dressed in his underclothes, grabbed his bag, then headed out with a passing goodbye. Cub’s focus was elsewhere anyway, getting ready for his own work. One day Cub would be able to quit that damn job. Now that Grian had he means, he was going to make sure of it.

…

With the ample warning, Grian made sure to steer completely clear of his and Scar’s offices. He intended on lingering here as little as possible, only dropping in to change and collect a radio.

Apparently Scar had anticipated this.

“Well hello there!”

Grian didn’t catch more than a glance of him before slamming the public office door closed, but had to open it again seconds later because what the fuck was Scar wearing.

Scar had laid himself out over the center desk, dressed head to toe in the most garishly abhorrent green crop top, booty shorts, and sparkly jewelry Grian had ever seen all on top of his uniform. ‘IM SORRY’ was written across the chest in neon pink fabric marker chicken scratch, a miserable failure at matching CuteGuy’s colors. The entire outfit clashed so horribly that Grian couldn’t help but stare, for a moment too long apparently because Scar took this as an invitation to continue speaking.

“CuteGuy! I had a rose for you, but you took your sweet ass time getting here and I got bored, so I ate it instead. You know how there’s rose flavored candy and shit? Does not taste like the flower. Would not recommend. Actually!” Scar rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his legs, and Grian choked on a snort when he saw the text across Scar’s ass said ‘WHORE.’ “I was trying to spit it out, you know, and I’m pretty sure my saliva is purple now. It turned my water purple. I might have poisoned myself.”

Grian found himself stuck between bafflement and a laugh, but he refused to show Scar he was any amount amused by this display, his voice stilted in suppression when he finally spoke. “Give me. A radio.”

“Sure thing!” Scar plucked one off the dock, spinning it in his fingers before tossing it across the room. Grian caught it, turning on his heel to leave. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Grian didn’t feel the need to answer, shutting the door behind himself as he went, but it wasn’t long because he heard the tip-taps of Scar’s boots behind him, not running, but certainly trying his best to catch up.

“Did you see my message this morning?”

“I saw it.”

“Did you see the part where I asked to take you to lunch?”

“No.”

“Do you want to go to lunch then? Later, obviously. You don’t even have to go with me!”

Grian scoffed through a chuckle, rolling his eyes. Ridiculous. “No thanks.”

“I thought so. That’s okay! Maybe another time! I’m going to go now, but it was nice to see you, CuteGuy!”

Grian frowned, not responding or turning around. If Scar wanted to dress like an idiot, that was his prerogative. Grian wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He had actual work to be doing.

…

Grian liked how often he got to fly in this line of work. CuteGuy the villain didn’t fly anywhere; he laid low, he scouted the streets from roofs of buildings, he stuck to the shadows. ‘Grian’ didn’t fly much either, not without a reason. Sometimes he’d fly just like anyone would go for a walk, but he liked doing something, he liked having places to go. As much as he loathed superhero culture- and the whole damn city for that matter- he loved this.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather at the scene of a fight or crime, but maybe Grian should have known that a crowd this large, this dense, was a red flag. It had been a couple hours since he’d set off into the city, so his guard was down, he was in the zone. He had just assumed someone was hurt. That people were trying to help or panicking. Clearing the crowd revealed otherwise.

Scar was laying on the sidewalk, still wearing his clashing clothes, signing a book from a fan before shooing them away while looking distinctly like the two of them were in on some sort of inside joke. He.. didn’t have his legs.

“CuteGuy!” Scar swooned, drawing a gloved hand across his forehead, “I have fallen and I can not get up! I need a handsome and capable superhero to assist me!”

Grian cringed, but despite the majority of people having backed up, no one seemed to actually have left, encircling the both of them in a tight barrier. Scar knew plenty well how their fans felt about the two of them, (Grian had stumbled upon some.. choice pieces of fanart before) and he’d never miss an opportunity to tease under the scrutiny of eager eyes. Though, there was something beautifully normal about that; the teasing, the invitation of banter. The kind of normalcy you long for, even when things aren’t well. (Even when Micah was never real, even after you lost a friend.)

“You’re plenty capable. This is a severe waste of my time.” Grian flapped his wings, not intending on leaving, just needing more space from the onlookers.

Scar watched him carefully, delight dancing across his face when he realized that Grian was going to stay. “Well of course, of course, but going all that distance walking on my hands? No no, I don’t think so! I don’t even want to think about the kinds of calluses I’d get! And it would take hours.”

“Serves you right. Did you make sure that call only wired to me?” Grian huffed, making a grand show of his annoyance since Scar couldn’t see the roll of his eyes. And.. well.. he couldn’t quite help himself with the crowd. Everyone gets a kick out of dramatics sometimes. “Where’d your legs run off to anyway?”

“Oh! Funny story! The Goat took them.”

“You paid him to do that?”

“That would have been a really good idea! But no. He just happened to see me, and after laughing at me for like ten minutes he said ‘iF yOu aRen’t uSinG thEsE tHen I wiLL’ like he does, you know him. It was a little ominous actually. I’m a bit worried. My doctors are going to be pissed when they find out, so personally, I would rather be delivering this news with legs in hand.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. It’s not ideal. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m going to need help getting them back.”

“I hope you know how unbelievably a ‘you problem’ this is because I am not helping. Good luck hunting him down. First I’d recommend calling someone to bring you your chair.”

“No!” Scar jolted upright, proving just how capable he was of not laying pathetically on the concrete, “I want you! Look, look at me. Listen. Close your eyes.”

Grian made a face, scoffing to hide the hint of amusement that was threatening to show in his expression. “Do you want me to look at you or do you want me to close my eyes.”

“Listen. Imagine. HotGuy and CuteGuy: Dynamic Duo-!”

“This sounds awful.”

“-I’m up on your shoulders, we’re infiltrating The Goat’s home base together! You’re punching bad guys and I’m shooting my bow from above-“

“And how do you think you’re going to hang on, huh?” Grian interrupted, tapping his foot.

“Obviously I’d-“ Scar moved, seeming to realize too late he didn’t have the legs he was planning on using. This did not deter him, a sharp smirk splitting his smile, “Velcro!”

Grian snorted despite himself, “Yeah. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it. I foresee zero issues.” With a great irritation that gripped him out of nowhere, Grian was suddenly aware of other voices, the crowd, speaking loudly amongst themselves. Someone started to chant his name. Another chanted ‘Velcro!’ That caught on much faster. Grian flapped his wings far more aggressively when the crowd began to close in, hitting civilians out of his personal bubble, but this didn’t seem to be very effective, anxiety crawling under his skin as the attention started to be too much. Scar seemed to notice, but despite his efforts to control the onlookers, they were too rowdy, too caught up in their excitement to listen.

“Goodbye.” Grian hissed, straining to be heard, and Scar half-shrugged, a possible attempt at apology.

“So that’s a no, then? You’ll fetch my legs at least, will you?”

“No.” Grian beat his wings hard, forcing civilians out of his way and prepping to take off.

“Oh! Okay! Have a nice day then!”

Grian was gone before he could hear another word, before any other body could brush the backs of his wings. Anger painfully out of proportion boiled in his stomach, spilling out and staining the rest of his insides in its pulsing fire. He wasn’t angry at Scar. Well. He could certainly blame Scar, luring him around and speaking like that, stoking the fire of fans who adored the both of them, but Grian hadn’t minded the show, he hadn’t even cared all too much that he’d been tricked, not when the resulting interaction felt so.. normal. He liked an act. He liked being CuteGuy. So why was he so upset? And maybe that was it. He was just angry for no reason, and that made him angrier, because despite everything, despite trying so damn hard, he was still broken.

He could punch someone about it. He wanted to punch someone about it. Cub wouldn’t want him to.

So he flew instead. Flew like he liked, fast and far and high until the air was too thin, then let himself fall, playing games with his life as he hurtled through the sky before catching himself under spread wings and doing all of it over again. Eventually he got tired. Eventually he had to stop. But the aftermath of a senseless episode still buzzed under his skin, nearly as unpleasant as the burn that caused it. Grian could feel it. He could feel it under his skin. He wanted to tear it out. He wanted to fly, exhaust himself until he couldn’t feel anything at all, but he was too tired, so instead he found himself gliding to Cub’s workplace. He didn’t know where else to go.

“CuteGuy-“ Cub’s manager was frightened by his sudden entrance, stumbling through the front door aggressively enough to rattle the attached bell into senseless noise.

“Hello Diane.”

“How do-“ but Grian cut her off with a frustrated groan, not caring to listen as he dragged himself to the back. Cub looked even more startled to see him than his manager did, though surprise quickly melted into concern when Grian collapsed into a pile of cardboard boxes. He grunted. They were not as soft as they looked.

“Ah CuteGuy, friend of HotGuy who I am friends with and know for this reason- it’s fine Diane, it’s fine, let me just- I can handle it.” Grian heard the soft arguing from the doorway, but didn’t care to say anything. He didn’t care to think. He just wanted to be better.

Eventually the door closed.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Cub’s hand flew to his shoulder and Grian viscerally cringed, lips parting in silent discomfort until the hand was swiftly drawn back, “I’m sorry. Do you need me to call an ambulance? Are you okay? You’re not okay.”

“I’m not hurt,” Grian mumbled, narrowing his eyes against Cub’s panicked expression in his peripherie. “Angry. Stupid.”

Cub jolted in his recognition, gears shifting immediately. “Scar, then. Was it Scar? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t been keeping tabs on the news- social media, the like. I’ve seen more than a few videos- people are going kinda nuts over nothing in my opinion but- It was too much. I’ll tell Scar to stop bugging you, he’ll stop.”

“It’s not Scar. I don’t care about Scar.”

Cub made a bit of a face, enough for Grian to tell he wasn’t so sure about that, but Cub didn’t voice the thought, instead asking, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Nothing.”

“Is- I’m struggling a little with the tone, man.”

“I don’t know! I was fine, I was kinda having fun and then I just wasn’t and out of nowhere everything just sucked and I was so mad and that’s not supposed to happen to me! Nothing happened and I wanted to rip out my hair and punch things and I didn’t, but now I just feel stupid! Why is my brain so fucking dumb.”

Grian let his head drop, face down in a pile of cardboard, but Cub didn’t move, intense in his silence. Eventually he sat down, right on the floor. “I need to break these down anyway,” he hummed, almost subconsciously as he leaned to grab something off his desk. The next couple minutes were filled with the sound of a boxcutter against tape and cardboard. It wasn’t awful.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Cub asked, not much more than a whisper. Not like he was sad or anything either, just focused on the task at hand.

“Okay,” Grian mumbled, the word coming out entirely indecipherable as anything but a noise of assent.

“I think you were nervous this morning. I think maybe you had an alright day, but got overwhelmed near the end. You can be having a good time and still get overwhelmed. There were a lot of people around you from what I could tell; it looked kinda claustrophobic.”

“But I didn’t- I didn’t care. It was like a switch in my brain just flipped! No build up!”

“Sometimes that’s how it happens. Sometimes there is build up and you just don’t notice until it’s too late. It’s not always so simply defined. There’s not always a reason. And there doesn’t have to be. You’re not regressing because you had a bad day, Grian. You’re not stupid.”

“I feel awful.”

Out of the corner of Grian’s eye, he saw Cub nod. “Yeah. I get it.” Cub continued with the boxes and Grian didn’t speak, only shuffling a little to grant easier access to the few he was laying on. But Cub stopped almost abruptly after breaking down one box, the room blanketed in a meaningful silence. “Have I told you yet? How damn proud of you I am?”

The question jolted Grian out of his daze. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Of course you have. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand of cards, but you haven’t stopped working with them. You haven’t given up. And you have your moments, you have bad weeks, bad months, but you still pick yourself back up at the end of today. I think you’ve grown. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have walked away from the crowd and taken his anger somewhere better. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have come to me. I respect you, Grian. You’ve come so damn far. I’m proud of you.”

Grian shook his head. “I haven’t done anything. It’s all you. I don’t pick myself up at all, you’re just pushing me back on my feet.”

“I haven’t known a single person that overcomes any of these kinds of challenges without support. That doesn’t make you any less capable, Grian. You’re still standing on your own two feet. I am proud of you.”

Discomfort burned in Grian’s chest. Cub didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. “It’s all for you. I’m only here because of you.”

“Having a strong motivator doesn’t discount all the hard work you’ve put in for yourself. You want to be better, Grian. You give your blood, sweat, and tears to make it happen. I’m not just dragging you along. You go to therapy and work your ass off. You keep track of your meds. You make the decision to walk away when all of you wants to haul off and kick someone’s shit in. You do it. You. And maybe most impressively, every time you fail, get arrested, relapse into old behavior, you peel yourself right off the concrete and try again. And there’s nothing harder than that. So that’s why I’m proud. That’s why I will always be proud. You’re a good man, Grian. You’re good.”

Grian didn’t know what to do with that. A soft chill rippled through his form, shaking him in his entirety despite its gentle nature. All of him felt so heavy. His lungs were full of lead.

“Can I have a hug?” A meek question, but he didn’t care.

“Of course.”

Cub’s touch sent another wave of coolness riding through his veins, contracting his muscles, making him sick and heavy and limp. And then, slowly, a steady march that began in his chest and spread outward; warmth. A soft, perfect warmth. The kind of love that could make anyone believe they were something to be proud of.

[amphibious-thing]

This is maybe a dumb question, but looking at the portraits of Hervey, I have a hard time noticing anything about how he's dressing that seems out of the ordinary or especially more 'feminine' for the time period (barring that one where he just has his coat buttoned super low and his whole shirt out?). Am I missing some obvious detail (material they were made out of maybe?) or was the his effeminacy/the perception of him as effeminate just more based on behavior than 'presentation'?

Not a dumb question at all. It was combination of his sexuality, his diet, his androgyny as well as his clothes & makeup. While Hervey's femininity was almost certainly exaggerated in satire written by his enemies there was some basis to this satire.

Sexuality

In the 18th century there was an association between effeminacy and sodomy. I don't think we can discount the role the rumours surrounding Hervey's sexuality played in the public's perception of him. William Pulteney's 1731 pamphlet A Proper Reply to a Late Scurrilous Libel satirises Hervey as Mr. Fainlove. Pulteney describes Fainlove as a "delicate Hermophrodite", a "pretty, little, Master-Miss" and insinuates that he's a pathick who "enjoys every Moment and Fruits of his Guilt". The 1739 pamphlet The State of Rome, Under Nero and Domitian satirises Hervey as Sporus (an allusion to Pope's satire of Hervey) describing him as a "Male-female Thing," who is "Fit only for the Pathicks loathsome Trade".

Pope's choice to satirise Hervey as Sporus in An Epistle from Mr. Pope, to Dr. Arbuthnot (1735) was itself a comment on Hervey's sexuality. Sporus being the boy that Nero is said to have castrated and taken as a wife.

Diet

Hervey was epileptic and suffered from a chronic colic. He details his medical history in An Account of My Own Constitution and Illness. At the recommendation of his doctor's George Cheyne he adopted a milk and vegetable diet. Cheyne believed that such a diet was "absolutely necessary for the total Cure of the Epilepsy” and also prescribed milk and vegetable diets in cases of “extreme Nervous Cholicts”. (The English Malady, p167 & 254) Hervey ate no meet for three years before reintroducing white meet. This diet was seen as effeminate by his contemporaries. Lady Louisa Stuart cites his refusal to eat beef as an example of the “extreme to which Lord Hervey carried his effeminate nicety”. (Stuart wrote this anonymously in the introductory anecdotes included in the 1837 edition of The Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.)

Hervey also drank "ass’s milk with powder of crab’s eyes and oyster-shells" for his heath. This is mocked in the poem The Lord H-r--y's First Speech in the House of Lords (1733-4) that calls him "a perfect curd of ass's milk." Alexander Pope included a similar line in An Epistle from Mr. Pope, to Dr. Arbuthnot (1735) describing him as a "mere white Curd of Ass's milk".

[Certain City Macaronies drinking Asses Milk, print, c.1772, via The British Museum.]

The association between effeminacy and asses milk features in the satirical dialogue The City Macaronies drinking Asses-milk, at the Lacteum, in St. George's-fields published in the November 1772 edition of the Oxford Magazine which was accompanied by the above illustration. The dialogue mocks macaroni for drinking asses-milk as a treatment for "nervous cases" and "hysterics" claiming that it's "delicate men" such as the macaroni "whose fine feelings are sensible of the slightest pressure, that are acquainted with hysterics". The son of the milk woman wonders aloud whether the macaroni are men or women. His mother tells him "they're neither, they are a kind of half and half breed."

Androgyny

With his slim figure and a bit of a baby-face Hervey was considered to be naturally androgynous. When Lady Deloraine said to him and Miss Fitzwilliams that "in her opinion a woman could never look too much like a woman, nor a man too much like a man" Hervey admitted that "considering the two people she said this to, it was certainly well said; and I can forgive her having bragged of it to every creature she has seen since" (Hervey to Stephen Fox, 18 September 1731)

Satirical descriptions of Hervey liken him to a cherub or a fairy describing him as pretty, little, soft, dainty, delicate.

In A Proper Reply to a Late Scurrilous Libel (1731) Pulteney satirises Hervey as "pretty Mr. Fainlove" who he describes as a "delicate Hermophrodite", a "pretty, little, Master-Miss", a "pretty, little Scribbler", and comments that he shouldn't "sully those pretty Fingers with Ink" that "a Fan would become them much better than a Pen."

The Lord H-r--y's First Speech in the House of Lords (1733-4) describes him as "the softest, prettiest thing". In An Epistle from Mr. Pope, to Dr. Arbuthnot (1735) Pope describes him as having a "cherub's face". Tell-tale Cupids (1735) satirises him as the "pretty baby fac'd Lord Dapper".*

In A Fairy Tale (1743) by Horace Walpole depicts Hervey as a literal fairy describing him as a "Dainty little Figure", "most delicately Fair and light" who "would have been vastly Pretty if it’s cherry-lips had ‘nclos’d any Teeth".

*quoted in Lord Hervey: Eighteenth-Century Courtier by Robert Halsband

Clothes & Makeup

Pope didn't describe Sporus as a "bug with gilded wings" and a "Fop at the toilet" because of Hervey's natural androgyny, clothing & makeup absolutely played a role in the public perception of him.

The Duchess of Marlborough described Hervey as a having "a painted face, and not a tooth in his head". Pope described him as "painted Child of Dirt that stinks and stings". And the The Court Garland refers to him as "Thou powder-puff, thou painted toy". (see The Opinions of Sarah Duchess-Dowager of Marlborough p42, An Epistle from Mr. Pope, to Dr. Arbuthnot & Lord Hervey: Eighteenth-Century Courtier by Robert Halsband p138)

The fashionable look of the period required pale clear skin, flushed red cheeks and dark eyebrows. While washes and creams were used to achieve clear pale skin, white cosmetic paint could also be used to lighten and smooth the skin. Rouge was used to give colour to the cheeks. Burnt cloves could be used to darken the eyebrows. While some of these cosmetics contained lead or mercury not all of them did.

[Lord John Hervey, oil on canvas, c.1741–1742, by Jean-Baptiste van Loo, via Art UK.]

It's hard to know how reliable the accounts of Hervey's makeup use are however his portraits do depict him with this fashionable look (in particular the rosy cheeks of the Jean-Baptiste van Loo portraits and the Enoch Seeman portrait). While modern depictions of 18th century fops will sometimes exaggerate makeup depicting men with pure white faces and almost perfectly round red circles on their cheeks, Hervey's portraits are more accurate to the look these cosmetics were trying to achieve.

The use of cosmetics are highlighted in satirical depictions of effeminate men throughout the 18th century century. As early as 1691 Mundus Foppensis: or, the Fop Display’d was mocking men for the "wanton use" of "Spanish Red, and white Ceruse". In 1773 The Old Beau in an Extasy depicts a "Fop at Sixty two" who uses "Chinese Paint for Artificial Bloom". In 1812 Regency A la Mode depicts the Prince Regent applying rouge to his cheeks while he gets laced into stays. The Court Garland's satire of Hervey is just another example of a satirical depiction of a fop in makeup:

Thou powder-puff, thou painted toy, Thou talking trifle, H----y; Thou doubtful he, she, je ne sçai quoy, By G-d, the K--g shall starve ye.

[Left: The Old Beau in an Extasy, print, c.1773, by John Dixon, via Lewis Walpole Library.

Right: 1812, or, Regency A la Mode, print, c.1812, by William Heath, via Lewis Walpole Library]

As for clothing I have to admit I'm better at late-18th century menswear. That being said material and colour seem to have played a role in what was considered effeminate.

A letter to the Read's Weekly Journal or British Gazetteer published on the 8th of May 1731 complains; "Rich and coloured Silks are in themselves effeminate, and unbecoming a Man; as are in short, all Things that discover Dress to have been his Study- 'Tis in vain for a Fop of Quality, to think his Title will protect him." In particular the article criticises poke sleeves and green waistcoats. While poke sleeves are absent from Hervey's portraits the Seeman portrait depicts him wearing a green waistcoat.

Green waistcoats are also mentioned in a story published in the Universal Spectator and Weekly Journal on the 18th of October 1729 describing and effeminate man's clothing as follows:

He had a flower’d pink-colour Silk Coat, with a Green-Sattin Waistcoat lac’d with Silver. Velvet Breeches, Clock’d Stockings the Colour of his Coat, Red-heel’d Pumps, a Blue Ribbon at the Collar of his Shirt, and his Sword-Hilt he embrac’d under the Elbow of his Left Arm,

This green waistcoat is laced with silver. In the Jean-Baptiste van Loo portraits you can see a embroidered silver waistcoat peeking out from beneath Hervey's coat.

[Left: Lord John Hervey, oil on canvas, c.1737, by John Fayram, via Art UK.

Right: Lord John Hervey, oil on canvas, by Enoch Seeman, via The Collected Verse of John, Lord Hervey]

While the quality of the photo leaves much to be desired I wonder if the coat from the Seeman portrait is supposed to be silver. The coat he wears in the The Hervey Conversation Piece could also be silver but it might simply be grey. Sarah Osborn thought that silver coats looked effeminate. She wrote to Robert Byng on the 2nd of June 1722:

I believe the gentlemen will wear petticoats very soon, for many of their coats were like our mantuas. Lord Essex had a silver tissue coat, and pink color lutestring waistcoat, and several had pink color and pale blue paduasoy coats, which looked prodigiously effeminate.

Hervey wears a "prodigiously effeminate" pale blue, possibly paduasoy, coat (possibly a long sleeved waistcoat?) in the Fayram portrait.

The low buttoned waistcoat is somewhat interesting and consistent throughout his portraits, buttoned particularly low in the Fayram portrait. The effeminate Captain Whiffle from The Adventures of Roderick Random (1748) is described wearing his waistcoat "unbuttoned at the upper part to display a brooch set with garnets" but Hervey is broochless and looking at other portraits from this period the low buttoning doesn't seem to be unusual.

[Left: Detail of The Hervey Conversation Piece, oil on canvas, c.1738-40, by William Hogarth, via Fairfax House.

Right: Lord John Hervey, oil on canvas, c.1741, by Jean-Baptiste van Loo, via Art UK.]

Fur-lined suits like that worn by Hervey in the Jean-Baptiste van Loo portraits were imported from France or Italy and could be very costly. Mary Delany describes Lord Baltimore wearing "light brown and silver, his coat lined quite throughout with ermine" at a ball where "finery was so common it was hardly distinguished". (Mary Delany to Ann Granville, 22 Jan, 1739/40)

Fur-lined suits were somewhat of novelty in England and would become a feature in Grand Tour portraits. Peter McNeil explains in Pretty Gentleman (p123):

The novelty and glamour of new fashion goods generated excited responses to Lyons silk waistcoats, Italian velvets and fur-lined suits. There was a well-established tradition of wealthy men acquiring clothing on the continent and then having themselves painted in them, either in Italy or back in England.

(see Benjamin Lethieullier 1752, Lord Archibald Hamilton 1755-56 & John Scott 1774 all by Pompeo Batoni an artist well know for his Grand Tour portraits)

Hervey's buckles in the Jean-Baptiste van Loo portraits look to be set with paste (glass) or gems (buckles could even be set with diamonds). While it's impossible to tell what Hervey's buckles are set with these buckles could get very expensive. Later in the century macaroni were mocked for their expensive taste in similar buckles. (see McNeil p90)

[Left: Shoe buckle, metal & paste, 18th century, British via The MET (83.1.103).

Right: Detail of Lord John Hervey, oil on canvas, c.1741, by Jean-Baptiste van Loo, via Art UK.]

While Hervey was certainly a fashionably dressed man he doesn't take it to the extent you might imagine of the archetypal fop. Satire exaggerates. Hervey's enemies chose their words deliberately to humiliate him. The amphibious thing of Pope's poetry was in reality a chronically ill queer man with a taste for fashion.

[cb97percent]

「Screw It」 · Chapter 2

HIS SECOND THOUGHTS ➥ Chris is supposed to 'let loose' at the biannual depravity festival a.k.a the Sigma Kappa mixer.

➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.

➥ Installment of The Red Lights Chronicles

⚠ — Discussions of virginity (see masterlist for more)

“How the fuck is everyone so natural at this?” Chris quickly scanned the large room, his face contorted in mild shock.

The entire place was buzzing with laughter and varying levels of sleaziness. People talking to one another way too closely, dancing a bit too intimately, licking salt off each other’s necks and what have you…

Then you had the Holmes-Watson duo at the secluded corner of the bar, looking way too serious like they were discussing politics over brandy in the late 1800s.

“Did you notice how the guys are exchanging their dick game testimonials?”

“WHAT?! No?”

“That’s because they don’t!” Jisung slid another shot glass towards his friend and raised his for a toast, “Everyone’s just following their instincts, my man. It’s called thinking with your dick.”

It was frustratingly easy to tell someone (not) to do something, wasn’t it? Oh, don’t worry about it. Change your perspective. Don’t let it get to you. Turn a blind eye. Don’t be depressed. 

Actually doing it, though? Goddamn monk patience right there.

It wasn’t like Chris was incapable of assigning the driver’s seat to his reproductive parts. If anything, his mind was way too preoccupied with it, but strictly when he was alone rather than in public functions like this. A force of habit to be ‘proper’. Every time he was about to get physical with someone, that same footage installed itself in his jumbotron inner-mind theater like a cruel foreshadowing of what was about to go down. 

Getting scarred once isn’t enough? Try the latest Christopheresque methods of self-torture for a chance to win a gift card!

In conclusion, no, he couldn’t figure out a way to ‘not let it get to him’.

He was trying, and god fucking knows he wanted to remove that bothersome splinter buried six feet under his façade, but something always seemed to conveniently get in the way.

This one’s too chatty. That one’s on TikTok. This one thinks it’s okay to say ‘irregardless’. That one wears too much lime green.

As if any of that was fundamentally important for sexual chemistry. But he couldn’t help it. 

The more time passed by, the bigger his inadequacy complex grew since he wasn’t able to, quote, ‘stack up those XP points when he could.’ Now it seemed too late like he missed some important deadline, and the whole thing was a piece of gum stuck to his shoes, continuously faltering him and making cringeworthy noises when he walked.

You. Suck. You. Suck. You. Suck.

Maybe pursuing doctoral education was just a massive overcompensation on his part, who knows? 

“It’s not rocket science, man, just…” Jisung mimed something that was supposed to be his soul leaving his body, “Let loose.”

“Let… loose,” Chris echoed his words while zoning out, but his mind was simply not cooperating with him to be present, “Shit! I needed to revise my syllabus.”

“My god you’re a nerd,” Jisung looked at him in utter disbelief, then sought help from Minho behind the bar, “Ares package. Make it two.”

While ten shots of Wet Pussies were being prepared, he examined Chris’ distracted face. Channie boy was like this for as long as Jisung knew the guy. Stubborn. Headstrong. Latching onto everything he could find to repair his pride. Of course it didn’t mean shit to be a virgin regardless of where you were in the adult timeline, but instead of admitting how much it was bothering him, Chris was pretending to be at peace with it. That was the frustrating part. And if he weren’t spectacularly failing at it, Jisung wouldn’t even consider dragging his ass to every social gathering he could find, but simply talking to the man did not seem to be working anymore. This bootleg immersion therapy was his last resort before he brought up the alternative of escorts again and risked getting punched in the face.

Or worse, another seminar on the ethics of sex work.

“Stop sabotaging yourself,” Jisung slapped him on the shoulder, “Just enjoy the moment for once.”

Why, I’d love to see a step-by-step demonstration of that, Chris wanted to loudly roll his eyes but pumped the brakes at the last second. He wasn’t even mad at Jisung. He wasn’t mad at anyone actually. The only person he loathed with a burning passion was himself for making a huge deal out of something that was supposed to be so damn trivial. He raised his shot for a silent toast and downed all five back to back to take all the residual edge off.

He didn’t want to fucking think anymore.

“She seems cool,” Jisung nodded towards a girl surrounded by what looked like the distant cousins of the Kardashians.

“I don’t think so,” Chris immediately protested, “Looks like she would livetweet it.”

“How about her?”

“GOD no. Too much Slytherin energy.”

“How is that even—?”

“Not the Lestrange kind. Pass,” Chris leveraged Jisung’s one weakness, “You know what, I thi—”

“Fucking stop overthinking this, or I’m gonna risk it all and slap the shit out of you,” he held onto Chris’ broad as fuck shoulders and harshly shook him, “Tonight we’re letting loose. Say it, what are we gonna do?”

“Let–Let loose.”

“With feeling.”

“Let loose.”

“DIG DEEP!”

“LET LOOSE!”

“Can I be a part of that?”

The duo was startled to death when they heard an unfamiliar voice next to them, not to mention right in the middle of a mortifying pep talk. The commandments of Wingmanism dictated doing the preliminary eliminations on behalf of your bro, immediately prompting Jisung to turn on his radar.

Looks? Check. Locked phone? Check. Lack of lime green? Check. 

Without giving Chris the chance to make a dumbass argument, he approved of this candidate and nudged the prospective coupling of the night towards the couch. When he turned to the bar again, he heaved a huge sigh as if he had just put the kids to bed.

“Still trying to get him laid?” Minho asked with a faded sneer.

“I’m gonna die with my eyes open if I depart this world without seeing it,” Jisung hyperbolically gestured, but one look at the gorgeous cheekbones in front of him, and his whole entire personality changed, “But more importantly, whatchu doing later tonight?”

“Damn, they don’t do pleasantries where you’re from?”

“Come on, you like me,” he leaned forward, the smile on his face impossible not to reciprocate, “Why do you drag me around so much? I’m obviously simping for you.”

“You realize I’m holding a sharp object.”

“That’s your version of batting eyelashes. Everybody knows that.”

As much as he wanted to keep the psychotically stoic mask, something about the quokka dude was just plain irresistible. Careful not to give a hundred percent of what he wanted, Minho let out a snort and darted his eyes away.

“Ask me again in two hours and we’ll see.”

Jisung triumphantly slammed his hand on the bar top, scaring the shit out of his porcelain prince, then disappeared into the crowd to mingle with some of his friends.

Meanwhile on the blue corner, Chris was midway through one of the most intense mental statistics of his life.

The girl in front of him was a total ten. He knew a couple of guys who would murder him in cold blood just to get with someone like her. One needed to have inoperable astigmatism not to notice she was encouraging him to… well, let loose. Her body language was clearly indicative of willingness. Touching his arm, playing with her hair, laughing at a genuinely unfunny joke—if he made a move now, she would leave with him. 

Ergo, p < 0.05. Possibility of score: 97%.

“Do you think we can take this somewhere… more private?” the nameless girl finally brought it up herself when Chris failed to mention anything remotely evocative of sex. It was a simple yes or no question, but he was choking harder than B-Rabbit in 8 Mile.

She was objectively so damn hot with the kind of body you would brag about in locker rooms. That was supposed to be his focal point, but he was having trouble focusing on her words, let alone being turned on. All he could think about was how this conversation couldn’t be any more boring, and he had endured a finance lecture once. Nothing was ever going to come out of bedding this girl tonight. Even her perfume smelled like the looming regret of the morning after. 

There had to be something fundamentally wrong with him at this point.

Uh oh, do something. She’s getting closer, DO SOMETHING!

“OKAY, I’m gonna go,” he jumped to his feet, giving no fucks about providing a reasonable explanation, and almost booked it towards the front door.

“Chris?” Jisung called out after him with slight concern, but Chris had half a mind to set fire to this place. Everything, everyone, all of it was suddenly too much.

“Later, bro.”

Only when he reached the safe bubble of his home did his heartbeat slow down to a normal rhythm, letting him heave a half-relieved half-disappointed sigh behind that closed door. Shower was the least of his priorities at that moment—he went straight to his room, got naked, threw himself to his bed, and started scrolling through his phone to find something to jerk off and sleep.

Art, art, gif, gif, art, text post, incorrect quote, gif, gif, art…

Then…

bassboostedjiscake reblogged: Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. Creaming guaranteed 🍦

Jisung was the horniest guy he knew, so if he dropped this on Chris’ dashboard, it must have been at least worth taking a look. He clicked on the profile thinking he was going to be greeted by Jisung’s newest favorite ‘adult content creator’ posting semi-nudes, however—

🌶️Oni @scovillescale I like pizza. And creating sexy universes.

Sexy… universes? 

The fuck did that even mean?

After scrolling through a bunch of Q&A posts, he got to the cream of the crop. Technically, yes, this was an adult content creator, but not in the format he was used to. Finally noticing what he was looking at, Chris couldn’t contain the scream bubbling up in his throat.

“This is goddamn 2D porn!”

If it weren’t for the fact that he was bored and horny that one night, he probably wouldn’t have been at this exact part of the Internet, but he was, and for a man who thought animated porn was high art, this blog was a fucking gold mine. 

His worlds had collided.

Shortly after, he found himself deep into the rabbit hole of this Oni person’s body of work. Artwork being pretty was one thing, but the story? So captivating that he couldn’t put his phone down.

“BUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?!”

The last time he startled himself with his own voice was probably when he was reading one of those original choose your own adventure books. He stayed up till 3 a.m. binging one story, completely forgetting to jerk off until the very last sex scene, which depicted the female lead riding her love interest at the back of a car while choking him. The orgasm he had to that?

Fucking sublime.

Once sufficient blood started flowing to his brain again, he immediately hit follow, then fervently typed a message.

Anonymous asked: HOLY SHIT I mean it as the highest compliment possible, but I came so hard reading this. Your style is awesome and you got an instant fan. Can I be your 🍍 anon?

He didn’t even think twice before hitting Ask with the orgasm high, but all of a sudden, he remembered Jisung’s wording in that godforsaken reblog.

Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. 

My girl.

So he had just told a woman at three in the morning that he masturbated to a story she created and that he came so harfwnekjfnwfnw THAT WAS SO FUCKING INAPPROPRIATE!

Chris wanted his bed to swallow him whole, beside himself with how mortified he was. He only meant to convey his admiration, completely skipping over the fact that he wasn’t talking to one of his online bros. God, the disrespect… There was no way to edit this goddamn digital owl, let alone delete it before this turning-sex-into-art goddess saw that.

His fast-forwarded panic monologue was cut short barely a minute later. He saw the reply post on his dashboard, and it made his heart jump in his chest for no reason. 

Someone was online. At this hour.

Thank you for being so awesome! Also you got taste. Pineapple pizza slaps! #🍍 anon

The amount of relief he felt for not being called an uber creep was enough to knock him to sleep. He reread the message at least five times before putting his phone down.

“She likes pineapple pizza?” he chuckled to himself stupidly in his bed.

What a goddamn scandal.

He clasped his hands under his nape and replayed the night in his head one more time. His talk with Jisung, the encounter with the nameless girl… Some things did come naturally to some people, and Chris always found himself panicking when he tried doing the same.

Maybe he just wasn’t meant to experience some things in this life.

“Why couldn’t you be at the party tonight?” his smile trailed off into a disappointed sigh while looking at the dark screen of his phone.

⥊ TO BE CONTINUED ⥋

« PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⁞ NEXT CHAPTER »

AUTHOR'S NOTE

For every Minho with a pudding, there is a corresponding Chris with a pineapple. I don't make the rules.

Oh, wait, I actually do.

「© 2021-2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

[freddie-77-ao3]

Gonna use the ask box for this 🙃 ask 1/? (I have so many questions, though you have answered so many already)

What are your thoughts on Trials of Apollo, and the characters?

go ahead and keep asking!!! i love your questions!!

ANYWAY

gonna start smaller with characters:

lavinia: the jewish thing wasn't handled completely correctly (just a couple of small things there) but overall 10/10 character. i think she's hilarious and her official artwork ROCKS.

meg: i love her. she seems a little immature for twelve years old TO ME but i also had a... rather abnormal upbringing so that might explain the differences. overall she was a great character and i LOVE the demeter rep (my thoughts on how riordan treated demeter take five pages to clarify so-- basically) love seeing it-- demeter was a kronide and her kids should be treated as such! great character development. peaches was also hilarious (as was crotch-kicker mccaffrey)

lester: calling him lester to separate between godly apollo and post toa apollo. again, fantastic character development. he's so fucking funny. like he does some really dumb stuff at the start of the series (swearing to not use a musical instrument and stuff?? LESTER MAN CMON) his and meg's relationship is so sweet-- and kayla and austin with him? chefs kiss. love apollo kids getting some time with their dad.

jason: absolutely got fridged. i've already touched on my suicide theory so i won't go into that here but basically i think we shoulda seen jason similar to percy (very minor, doing his own thing behind the scenes) but alas.

piper: the shel thing was a bit sudden. don't get me wrong, i'm ALL for queer rep (i think there should be more of it in the books actually) but-- going straight from breaking up with jason to jason sacrificing himself for her to a relationship seems really unhealthy. i think she should have a chance to grow outside of a relationship.

reyna: joining the hunt was a bad end for her. since when was that an ambition of hers? she seemed genuinely happy in new rome and called it her home multiple times in HoO and going from that to the hunt? idk seems like rick doesn't know how to write characters NOT be in a relationship (piper, reyna, leo... they all get squared away)

leo: oh leo baby he didn't get to see jason before he died??? so heartbreaking. didn't belong in a relationship with calypso. the punching thing was weird when he came back to camp-- esp with a character who has a history of physical abuse

frank: i love the frank deciding his own fate thing but also idk seems like a cop out.

hazel: shouldn't have just become praetor i mean cmon. i love her but she's what, 14 now? no way.

Nico: FINALLY ONE OF THE CHARACTERS CANONICALLY GETS THERAPY. the doctors note is--

will: solangelo flirting is hilarious 10/10. "do you want to be my buddy?" "significant annoyance" i can't breathe. also poor will for putting up with apollo in the hidden oracle because i could not help my dad learn how to use the toilet i'm sorry but that shit is crazy.

malcolm: why is malcolm going to battle without pants on so funny to me i just-- 10/10 i love him.

connor: such a dumbass. the hair grafts 😭. i feel bad that travis isn't there and then communication lines go down like oh buddy :(

cecil: see me RUNNING with the knowledge cecil can cook

other small stuff:

love the waystation, always been my personal hc that there's more than just that one but that's for another post.

percabeth finally making it to college!!!

speaking of which AT WHAT TIME DID TRAVIS AND CLARISSE FILL OUT COLLEGE APPS THEY WERE AT WAR???? WHAT DO THEIR OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPTS LOOK LIKE???

the jackson-blofis family warms my heart <3

thoughts on the series as a whole?

i love it. definitely top three riordan series (tied with pjo and mcga)

i like that (like mcga) toa was more mature? like we finally see demigods with ptsd, we get queer characters, just... everything

[bluuscreen-png]

working on my own little “the master doesn’t die and joins the doctor after lotl” au so here’s voyage of the damned outfits if i got to do the costume design [plus a couple silly bonus sketches under the cut]

[quietwingsinthesky]

the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head

[cappucosmico]

dragon's okay btw he just had a 280 dollar shitting and vomiting event. making my life flash before my eyes etc. vets just cost obscene amounts to look at your cat for a second and say "Yeah he looks about alright"

mr dipshit right after a vet visit HE CAUSED!!!

[the--highlanders]

two insists that he's taller than jamie, which jamie will always dispute. but also two thinks jamie is tall. he has a tall boyfriend. and he would never ever say that out loud to jamie or admit that he likes it. he never sees the discrepancy between these two opinions.

& the irony is that jamie is like. an inch taller than him at MOST. neither of those things are true. two never acknowledges that either.

[4giorno]

actually the most important part of this no death run

also literally helpppp

[softquietsteadylove]

For the Thenamesh doctor AU. There is this patient (adult or kid) who has a mental breakdown and nobody can calm him down. So Thena calls Gil and ask him if he can give it a try :)

Maybe you can put a soft moment in the end?

"Gil?"

"Hey Honey," he grins at her, dropping his sandwich and wiping off his hands. He frowns at the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

Thena nods her head for him to come with her, which he does in an instant. "Husband of a patient in surgery. He's utterly beside himself and no one can get him to calm down."

"No one?"

"Not even Ajak," Thena pauses and looks up at him before they cross into the waiting room, "not even Sersi."

This is bad. Gil looks through the window of the swinging door and back to her. "And you think I can help?"

Thena shrugs one shoulder and looks up at him. He can't be sure, but he swears she's trying to look extra cute. "Well, you're the best at calming patients on the way here."

"That's-" he pauses, looking down as she rubs the zipper of his hoodie between her thumb and finger.

"I always find your company very soothing."

Dammit. She has to know how cute she is--she just has to! Gil sighs, "I'll try."

He pushes through the door and walks over to the man with his whole head in his hands, weeping and gasping for air. Sersi is beside him, speaking softly in that gentle accent of hers. But if not even she - the GP known for being as gentle as a butterfly - can calm him down, Gil really doesn't know what he's supposed to be able to do.

Thena must have told Sersi she was going for him specifically, though, because Sersi catches his eye and nods him over.

"Gil, this is Mister Wells. He's waiting for his wife to get out of an emergency bypass."

"Hi there," Gil begins gently, sitting in the seat Sersi vacates for him as she returns to her work. He leans forward in hopes of getting a look at the poor guy. "I'm a paramedic here at the hospital. Your wife is in surgery?"

The man mumbles something, still holding his head in his hands and now pulling faintly at his hair.

"Listen, I know you've been told a million times that we're doing everything we can, but," Gil pauses. It's true, sure. But that doesn't mean anything to this poor man. This poor bastard who is beside himself, sitting out here, unable to do anything. "But I guess I can't really promise you anything, huh?"

The absolutely haggard man finally pulls his head up and looks at Gil. At the very least, he definitely heard what he said, because he looks nothing short of aghast. "They sent you to comfort me?"

"I know," Gil shrugs, his hands in his hoodie pockets as he moves. "But my...someone asked me to come and talk to you. So I did."

His eyes run over Gil critically, "and what makes you so special?"

"Well, nothing, I guess," Gil purses his lips momentarily. "I'm not even a doctor, so I'm not really obliged to have any bedside manner or anything."

"I'll say."

"But," Gil pauses, his smile fading. "A few weeks ago...I guess I found myself in a situation a little like this. Nothing quite as serious, but...sure did scare me."

The older man finally looks at Gil--really looks at him. He sits up just a little, looking somewhat more like a human and less like a broken shell of a man. "Yeah?"

Gil nods, still haunted by the sight of Thena under that car. "Have nightmares about it and everything."

Mister Wells thinks for a second, sidestepping the question of what actually happened. "How'd you get through it?--the wondering, I mean. How'd you get through the...the what ifs?"

Gil takes a deep breath, thinking about the feeling of Thena's freezing cold hand in his and how she had let just a few tears slip out. "I...I guess I couldn't really get all the way there. I couldn't fully imagine what my life would be like without her."

Tears come to the poor man's eyes as he starts to curl up again. "I-I don't know-! I don't know what I'll do without her!"

Gil just pats the man's shoulder, letting him cry. He's sure that's all he would be capable of if Thena...

He had said those exact words to her; he had told her that nothing would happen to her, because he was there. But he didn't actually have that power to guarantee that. He would have put his very life on the line to do so, but sometimes things just don't work out that way.

It is true: he has had nightmares. Dreams of walking into the hospital and feeling something wasn't right. Looking for someone he can't name and yet whose absence he feels like a hole in his chest. He's had dreams of her dying in his arms, under that car, in the rain, and the cold, and him trying to help her entirely in vain.

"I can't tell you either," Gil offers, rather lamely, if he's being honest. Which he is. "But I can tell you that she'd tell you she loves you."

He looks at Gil again. "What?"

"She would tell you she loves you," Gil can guarantee. "And I'm sure she wouldn't want you out here tearing out the rest of your hair over it."

Wells gives Gil a look, which only encourages him.

"Look, I don't know what I'd do without Thena either," he professes entirely truthfully, hand - out of his pocket - to his heart. "But while she was in her surgery, I thought about all the things I love about her."

Finally - at long fucking last - the guy smiles a little.

Gil smiles too. "I thought about her laugh, about what jokes make her smile and which ones make her slap me on the arm."

Wells almost chuckles at that one.

"I thought about how I would tell her how beautiful she is, and how I can't imagine a single day without her."

The greying man nods, tears in his eyes, a smile on his face. Gil has finally found the right chord to strike.

"I thought about all the time we've had, all my favourite things about her," Gil sits back again, "and then, just like that, she was out. She was right in front of me again."

Wells sniffles a little, blinking away the last of his tears. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Gil nods. "And I guess I should promise that it'll happen for you too."

Wells shrugs. He knows just as well as Gil does that there's no such guarantee.

"But," Gil shifts uncomfortably. He hasn't let himself think about this much since it happened. Why would he? "But if she...if she hadn't..."

Wells doesn't press him.

Gil leaves the statement as it is, but looks up and smiles at him as best he can. "I think I'd just keep thinking all that stuff. I would think about her every second, of every minute, until the day I die."

Both men nod, a level of understanding passing between them that far exceeds any well wishes or empty promises. Gil has offered what he can, and nothing more.

Wells extends his hand, which Gil shakes firmly. "Thank you."

Gil raises his brows, "I don't know if I can say I'm happy to help, but I'm glad I got to talk to you."

"I-"

"Mister Wells?"

Gil stands with him as Eros comes into view. He's not Gil's favourite of their co-workers, but the guy knows his way around a heart.

The Brit pulls off his mask to give the man a smile, "your wife has pulled through rather beautifully, sir. She'll be back in her room by the time you get up there, then I'll come see you about the plan moving forward."

Gil catches Wells before he can collapse to the floor in relief. Gil tries to keep the completely boneless man upright and nods to the surgeon, "thanks, man."

Eros offers Gil a stiff nod and leaves.

"Hey," Gil gets Wells back in his chair and pats his back. "Hey, it's okay. Everything worked out."

He nods, at least, his head in his hands again, although at least the tears are happy this time.

"Come on, you've gotta get hydrated," Gil pats his shoulder, offering his arm to help the man to go see his wife (and any water coolers they can find along the way).

"Th-Thank you," he pats Gil's arm as they shuffle along in elation.

Gil smiles at the man, happy he can go tell Thena all the good news. And finish his sandwich. "I'm happy I could help, sir."