#Doctor Re Reeling Machine

[senorablack]

On the Injustices of the Modern Senior Discount

Words: 1143 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Argyle/Jonathan Byers Characters: injustices of the world Additional Tags: Humor, Shippy Gen, idiot 4 idiot Summary: Steve finds Eddie, Argyle and Jonathan in the middle of a protest.

When Steve finds his guy, Eddie’s handcuffed to the theatre doors. His right wrist is, anyway. His left is cuffed to Argyle’s. And cuffed to Argyle’s left ankle, is Jonathan’s right. Argyle attempts a wave, but the movement takes Eddie’s arm with it, which results in a supersized soaking of icy coke all over the pair. Jonathan snorts. Probably because he’s managed to be unscathed by the splash back.

“S’why we should have gone with 7-up.” He says. But Steve barely catches it from where he lies on the sidewalk, head pillowed in his hands.

“But you like coke, dude.” Argyle says, taking off his second layer and dabbing it at his sticky stomach.

“Without…a doubt…” Jonathan says through yawns, “but 7-up doesn’t stain.”

“Board shorts can be replaced, you know, but supersized sales on fountain drinks last forever.”

“No man, this all-you-can-drink sale ends July thirty-first, ” Eddie says, “And today’s the… ”

“Thirtieth .” Jonathan supplies.

“Yeah, so like, what are we doing sitting here and not like, out there, disrupting the land?" Argyle asks, "High time we pretended we’re some white folk from the east, man, and that that fountain machine is our California gold.”

“Some of us are white folk from the east.” Jonathan breathes.

Steve can't be sure that he's really even awake. Argyle tries again, but Steve shuts him down immediately, not needing to hear anything more.

“Could I just—“ Steve pinches the bridge of his nose (and mumbles why do I even hang out with you bozos), “—could I just interrupt you guys for a sec. Anyone want to tell me what’s up with the cuffs?”

“Cuffs?” Eddie asks, with a head tilt. “Come again?”

“I said, DID YOU PUT YOURSELF HERE OR DO I HAVE TO CALL BAIL BONDS?”

The trio wince.

“Roll the volume back to 3, brother, I’m sensitive.” Argyle says, twisting a pinky in his ear.

“He always swabs too harsh.” Jonathan says, and turn to his side. It brings Argyle’s ankle over his own. Argyle doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

“You wanna make sure you got all those little gummy guys out of there.” Eddie says, “Jay think fast!”

Jonathan returns to his back a second late and instead of his open mouth, the popcorn kernel Eddie tossed at him falls into his shirt. Steve hadn’t seen it before, but when Jonathan sits up, there is a littering of kernels outlining Jonathan’s concrete bed like some kind of buttery snow-angel. Eddie shoots him a comforting smile.

“I’ll get it one day.” Jonathan says with a shrug.

“Hey, I won’t give up on you, if you don’t give up on you.” Eddie says. Argyle places a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

“That right there, brooooooooo, that’s some real ass shit man. You could work for hallmark.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t last one—“

“GUYS!” Steve shouts again. “Let’s reel this back to why the hell you’re all cuffed together, mmkay?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re protesting.” Eddie says and fishes a half soak joint from his pocket.

He frowns. Argyle pats him on the back consolingly, retreats, and digs through Jonathan’s jean jacket to procure some rolling papers.

“Protesting what?”

Argyle takes out his wallet, places a paper on top, and uses a nail to cut open the soaked joint. He empties the bud onto the new paper and re-rolls like he’s performing brain surgery.

“Being denied the senior discount.” Eddie says with a growl.

“None of you are seniors.” Steve says.

“What, because of our age? I was a senior a mere three months ago, my guy.” Argyle says, and then snaps his fingers in Eddie’s direction. Eddie mindlessly brings out his zippo and hands it to Argyle.

“Doctor.” Eddie says quickly.

“Doctor.” Argyle says in kind. He holds the flame under the length of the joint, close enough to seal but not burn.

“No, right? For christ sakes, Steve, I was a senior three times. That means I should have like, three times the discount…” Eddie’s brows scrunch. “If my math is right.”

Steve covers both hands over his face. And then runs them through his hair, pushing back the waves in all kinds of odd angles. He imagines they look like how he inwardly feels—distressed.

“It’s not.” He says flatly.

“But the formula…” Argyle starts. And Steve has to cut him off again.

“You! Hey!” Steve kicks at bottom of one of Jonathan’s converse. “Okay, no, you—why are you here? You know better.”

“Oh, I know better, man. I know better than to trust the man to fairness and equality. We all deserve access to Alien 3.”

“Sure. Right. Okay.”

“Plus,” Jonathan says with a laugh, “this is where the bud went and I was promised nachos.”

“Christ, you really need to stop hanging around Eddie, because you’re starting to make less sense than him.”

“Nah, E&J Spa Day Saturdays are sacred and irreplaceable.”

“You don’t even go to the spa.”

“I dunno, it just sounds better than Jonathan and Eddie get blasted, visit natural history museums, and make up fake lore about earth and mankind’s evolution Saturdays.”

“Huh, now I see why I don’t get to tag along.” Steve says with raised brows. “Guess I owe you a thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jonathan says.

“Wait, wait…so where’s the patty wagon?”

“Get this. These are the auxiliary doors.” Eddies says.

“Walk me through that one?” Steve raises a brow.

“We can’t, sweets, because they’re only for emergencies.” Eddie says this like Steve is five, as if he's the one missing the mark. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Forget I asked. Alternate definitions welcomed, guys.”

“Back doors.” Argyle says.

“Oh.” Steve scratches his brow with a pinky nail, “So no one’s even noticed you guys, have they?”

“Oh, they’ve noticed, Steve, baby. But just like any other injustice of the world all these—bawk bawk bawk—chickens are couped. Conditioned to ignore wrong doing if it ain’t immediately doing them wrong!”

Instead of engaging in whatever all that means, Steve squats and levels them all with a scrutinizing stare.

“How high are you guys right now?”

Argyle frowns. Starts to speak. Stops. Studies the joint he’s nursed back to health. And then fixes Steve with a serious look.

“Dude, I think the real question is how high aren’t we right now? Like, one could posit that, like, we can and should, be like, higher.”

Steve closes his eyes. Breathes through his nose.

“I don’t even—christ—get yourself unlocked. I’ll pay for the tickets. You’re still getting the Nachos, babe.” Steve says.

“Fair enough." Eddie nods. "Suppose the cause could pause for a free hour and a half of thrills and chills.”

When everyone is free and standing, Argyle’s striking up the lighter again. Steve steals the joint he’d been meaning the light right from his lips.

“If I’m buying, you assholes sure as hell owe me first hit.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #jargyle #argyle x jonathan #st fanficiton #steddie fic #jargyle fanfiction #my steddie fic #ao3

[tragicbeancounter]

Ok so I've not really watched doctor who since mid way through the Matt Smith arch but I usually drop in for the regeneration episodes and I really have to know ... What the fuck? Like what have I missed? I can only pray to the Gods that there is some context from earlier in the series that I've missed because otherwise my only explanation is that the writers are on The Bad Drugs.

So without further delay, my here's my out of context recap of the The Power of the Doctor (spoilers):

There is a Rick and Morty style space train (this does not come back)

Cybermen can regenerate now which is cool as fuck

Cybermen have weird hats now which is not cool as fuck

Child slavery is also not cool. Who is this child, where did they come from, why are they cargo

"I'm the doctor I'll protect you" lol woops there you go

Omg a bunch of seismologists are going missing

Yes but also sometimes all the paintings aren't up in this gallery and there's no explanation "they're gone for scheduled maintenance" no explanation

Yes my missing people and your missing paintings are mystery's of equal value and also definitely linked

Oh yeah old DW actor cameos, like a lot

Why do the daleks have so much emotion in their voices now

The Cybermen too actually

"do you like my seismologist collection"

GCSE level volcano diagram

Unexpected and unexplained rasputin

Did they ever explain why Rasputin was in any way relevant? Did I skip that?

Russian doll cybermen which actually slaps if you ignore all the dialogue and explanation for it

Baldrick the cyberman

Disappointed in the lack of "exterminate" and "you will be upgraded"

The paintings have faces?? Why?? This was not explained??

Oh shit yeah there's like a whole extra planet in space thats also the deathstar, and also metal, and also powered by the child, and also the jokers tardis is there

But the child is actually sentient energy that's actually a laser space squid

Knock off Jack Harkness

Actually I take that back he was probably my favourite character this episode

The doctor is an unhelpful cybernetic ghost hologram

FORCED REGENERATION (I think you mean death)

No apparently it means you can possess another timelords body

What were those two fighting planets?? Why did he take time out of his busy schedule to say "mwahaha I'm the doctor and I did this"

Oh wait I forgot about the whole daleks drilling into the earth's core thing

I'm sure that was plot relevent but I'm still reeling over "do you like my seismologist collection"

The doctor is in limbo aka more doctor cameos

Oh yeah there was a dance break because the master is Rasputin again?

Seriously did I miss something earlier in the series? Why is he Rasputin?

I'm loving this guys acting but my god does it make so little sense in the context of the scenes he's in

Daleks exploding in a volcano is the cinematic masterpiece I didn't know I needed

This master is exuding extreme Sub energy

New Captain Jack is bae

They re-regenerate the doctor

Space squid goes wild

The doctor doesn't seem to really die but also regenerates?

The support group was actually really sad for me. Like can the doctor not just visit. They have access to an actual time machine it's not like they can't make time in their schedule

I'm actually not entirely sure what the doctor did to help anybody this episode

Was there a moral here I missed

In conclusion I don't know what happened but this was one of the most accidentally funny things I've ever seen and it keeps me up at night. By all accounts its a masterclass in bad writing but I'm not even sure I can bring myself to hate it. Would I watch it again, no. Do I wish I hadn't seen it, absolutely not.

Everyone should watch this so we can suffer together

#doctor who #the power of the doctor #daleks #cybermen #rasputin #yes #the lover of the russian queen #so many call backs #hot jack harkness 2.0 #space squid sentient alient child #why do the daleks and cybermen have no much emotion in their voices now #seismologists

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[darling-i-read-it]

Buffet Froid

1x10

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, mental health problems 

Author’s Note: The art of making it look like i like hannibal when he annoyed the fuck out of me this episode. Also it is so hard to write this cause my HEART i just wanna hug will UGH

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine. 

Official Episode Summary : Two victims' faces are similarly mutilated. For the first time, Will contaminates a crime scene thinking he committed the first murder and an MRI shows he suffers from Advanced Encephalitis.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll​

(not my gif)

You sat in the car. You were outside of a crime scene, the house looking ominous as it loomed over what had happened inside. There were so many people outside, taking pictures and talking. Will was inside. You had driven him, per his request. You usually didn’t come to the crime scenes but they had been acting off, like he was almost on autopilot when he asked you to take him. Your fingers drummed on the steering wheel as you stared out, trying to catch glimpses of people you knew. 

You saw Bev walk out quickly making her way to the car. You rolled down the window and she shook her head a bit as she walked up.

“You should go talk to Will,” she said. 

“What happened?” Bev looked back at the house, at Jack who had just exited the house. You looked at her, the worried look on her face evident.

“He contaminated the crime scene. He’s never done that before,” Beverly said. “His hands were around her throat.” 

You were surprised to hear that, rightly so. You unlocked the car and got out, walking across the yard beside Beverly who was quick to give anyone a look that even thought about protesting to your presence. Will had come out when you weren’t looking. He was talking to Jack.

“I got lost in the reconstruction. Just for a second. Just a blink,” Will was saying as you walked up to him. Jack barley took notice of your presence but Will looked at you, surprised to see you there by his eyes. He didn’t protest it though. You knew before he could tell you. He had lost some time.

“I know you don’t like to be a subject of concern, but consider me officially concerned,” Jack said. You scoffed and Jack glanced at you but didn’t show any emotion. 

“Officially,” Will said.

“About time,” you muttered. 

“Wait in the car,” Jack said to you. You raised your hands in defiance.

“I’m here on a warning from Beverly,” you said, glancing at Will. He shook his head.

“I’ll be there soon,” he muttered. You nodded and he reached out to grab your hand and for a second he held it, quietly, looking confused and worried and scared. Your hand slipped from his and you walked over to the car.

“Thought the reason you have me seeing Dr. Lecter and not an FBI psychiatrist is so my mental well-being stays unofficial,” Will muttered, watching you go. 

“Have I broken you?” Jack asked. “Is your girlfriend right this time?” 

“Do you have anybody that does this better unbroken then I do broken?” Will asked. “And she’s always right.” 

“Fear makes you rude, Will,” Jack said as Will walked to the car. His hands shook. He always seemed to be shaking. He stooped at the drivers window and you looked at him, elbow resting on the open window and your hand propped up by your palm. 

“We should go to Hannibal after this,” you muttered. 

“Why are you here?” he asked. It wasn’t rude. He was only asking. 

“You asked me to drive you.” He nodded, glancing back at the house. “I have to look at the body again.” A beat of silence. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

“Gutting a fish,” he whispered. You nodded. He had gone fishing yesterday though.

“We’ll go to Hannibal’s together.”

“Sit in,” he whispered, referring to the session. 

“I will.” He nodded and walked back to the house. You fought the tears threatening to fall from seeing him in so much confusion.

-

“I can’t remember seeing her dead body before I saw myself killing her,” Will said. He glanced at you sheepishly. You sat on Hannibal’s desk which was your resident spot when you sat into sessions. You didn’t do it often and you only did it with Will’s request or permission. He wanted a witness today, to whatever it is that Hannibal had prepared for him.

“Those memories sank out of sight, yet you’re aware of their absence,” Hannibal inquired. Will was pacing around the room, his mind on fire. 

“They left a slick on the surface of my mind where they’re supposed to be,” he said. 

“Where you hope they’re supposed to be, but fear they never were.” Will looked haunted. The false memories made him reel. The dying human under his hands had felt so real.

“There’s a grandiosity in the violence I imagined that feels more real than what I knew is true,” he said. 

“What do you know to be true?” Hannibal asked.

“I know I didn’t kill her. Couldn’t have. But I remember cutting into her. I remember watching her die.” 

“You must overcome these delusions that are disguising your reality. What savage delusions does this killer have?” Hannibal questioned. He was walking around the room as well, but in smaller spaces.

“It wasn’t savage. It was lonely...desperate...sad,” Will said, his eyes glossed over. 

“Are you lonely Will?” Hannibal asked. Will shook his head then paused. Your heart sank and you hung off his answer. 

“No. That was the killer,” he said. “But I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked through me, past me. Like I was a stranger,” he whispered. 

“What could this be? It has to be something that we can treat,” you said. Will looked at you and nodded.

“It could be a blood clot. Or a tumor. Just an answer is better than anything,” Will said. Hannibal glanced at you and Will as you stared at each other, nodding in agreement.  Your emotions hung off Will’s. It didn’t matter if you were an empath or not. You knew Will well enough to know when enough was enough. 

“I can recommend a neurologist. But if it isn’t physiological then you have to accept what you’re struggling with is mental illness,” Hannibal said. 

“It isn’t,” you whispered. 

Hannibal looked only at you as you seemed to bore holes into the ceiling now. You had a dangerous knowledge of Will Graham. Hannibal thought that might be a problem.

-

You were with Hannibal and Will into the medical office. You held Will’s hand and he held yours like a lifeline. You sat at chairs beside each other that happened to be far enough away where his hand slipped out of yours. He held them now in his lap, fingers fidgeting.

“What did the headaches start? In earnest?” Dr. Sutcliffe asked. Will glanced at you.

“Two to three months ago,” Will said and you nodded in agreement.

“About the time Will went back into the field,” you said. 

“When I met him,” Hannibal added.

“The hallucinations?” Sutcliffe asked. 

“I don’t know exactly when they started. I just slowly became aware that I might not be dreaming.” 

Hannibal walked with Sutcliffe behind a large piece of glass. You stayed with Will for a few minutes, taking his clothes in his hand as he put on the hospital dress. He let out a small sigh as you looked at him.

“What if nothing comes up?” he asked. 

“We’ll deal with that when it comes.” 

Will looked at you and you looked at him. He was ready to go but he waited. Eyes glancing around your body wildey.

“If nothing comes up than I am, by definition, likely insane,” he told you quietly. “And if-”

“I’m not going to go anywhere,” you said. Will looked broken. He looked tired. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing the back of it. “I love you.”

His breath seemed to relax. He knew you but he wasn’t sure that when he woke up you would be gone. He might be seriously ill but knowing you were there still made him feel better. 

“I love you too.” You kissed him and he kissed you back desperately. 

“Go get your brain scanned now. You have lipstick on your lips,” you said as you pulled away. He laughed very subtly adn shrugged, wiping it off with his hand.

“I don’t think it’ll mess up the results.” 

“You never know.”

-

You stood beside Will again before the doctor. He pointed to the brain scan. 

“We didn’t find anything abnormal. No vascular malformations, no tumors. No swelling or bleeding. No evidence of stroke. Nothing wrong with you neurologically,” the doctor said. Will’s face was clearly troubled. “Usually when I tell a patient that, they’re happy to hear it.” 

“So... what I’m experiencing is psychological?” Will asked.

“Brain scans can’t diagnose a mental disorder. They can only rule out medical illnesses, like a tumor, that can cause similar symptoms.” 

“And there’s no chance you’ve mixed up the photos? Or maybe the machine was malfunctioning? I hear that happens,” you said stiffly. 

“Y/N,” Will muttered but you shook your head.

“We can do more tests if it’ll make you feel better. Take some blood samples, but I imagine they'll be just as inconclusive.” 

For some reason you doubted the truth in that but you didn’t voice it. 

-

You walked into Jack Crawford's office. He took off his glasses and looked up at you, clearly not excited to see you.

“Does Will need something?” Jack asked.

“Stability.  A new brain perhaps,” you said. Jack looked you up and down and he knew that you meant business.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice monotone.

“Will’s always been a bit odd. Always. It was what drew me to him in the first place,” you said. 

“Listen-”

“Shut up.” He shut up. “When Will went back into the field it was because you wanted him to. Will wants to please people. He wants to save lives. He wants to use his gift for good but for each life he saves a little piece of him is burned and singed. You broke Will Jack Crawford and I won’t let you forget it,” you said evenly, looking down at him.

“Do you have a life outside of Will Graham?” 

“I did before you broke him and now I have to advocate where he cannot.” 

“We were never going to be friends,” Jack said.

“No, no we weren’t.” 

-

Come midnight when Will hadn’t arrived home you woke up. You were getting a suspicious amount of sleep. You had gone to bed, assuming he would be back soon after you fell asleep. Jack sometimes had him out late hours and he was likely to be back. But when you woke up and he was still gone you started to panic a bit. 

You calmed yourself, trying to reason that he was maybe still at work. You called his cell. No answer. 

You got up out of bed and put on some clothes. With him sleepwalking, losing time, he could be anywhere. You told yourself to add a tracker to his phone.

You got into the car and drove the streets for a few minutes. He wasn’t there. You then drove to Hannibal’s which was the only other place your mind could come up with. You knocked on the door at about 12:30, shaking from the cold and worry. It took Hannibal a moment to come to the door but he eventually did, wearing his robe and rubbing his eyes.

“I thought you were Will,” he admitted. 

“Will hasn’t come home yet. He won’t pick up the phone but I’m guessing he’s not here,” you said, looking past him.

“Have you tried the crime scene?” he questioned. You shook your head but that must be where he was. It had to be. 

“No but I’ll go there now. I’m sorry to wake you.” 

“Don’t apologize.” He was about to shut the door when you turned around but he stopped. “He’ll be there. I’m sure your expertise in finding strays will help,” Hannibal said simply. You nodded and walked back to the car.

On your way there you got a call from Will. 

“Where the f-”

“I just sent you the address. Come quickly.” He hung up and you did as you were told, driving faster to the destination you were already going to.  You were there in under ten minutes from where you had been on your drive and you got out, walking quickly up to Will.

“I thought you were dead!” you yelled, throwing your arms around him. He shook his head but let you hold him. 

“Not yet,” he muttered. “I called Beverly to help me figure out the crime scene,” he said. 

“Then why did you tell me to come?” 

“Emotional support.” You nodded and held him tighter.

-

You woke up with a start. Will was thrashing beside you and you put your arm on his side instinctively. You couldn’t tell what had woken you up. It could be anything. The weather, your dreams but you felt like it was something out. You looked around for any disturbances. The dogs were still sleeping but you got up and looked around, trying to find what had woken you. 

You walked through the kitchen and the downstairs but you couldn’t find anything. When you were back in the bedroom Will was awake, standing up.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“Something woke me up. I was trying to figure out what.” You walked back over to him and back into bed. 

“Probably wind,” he muttered. You put your arms around him as he got back in too and he put his head on your chest. You kissed his curls. 

“Probably,” you whispered.

-

Will went in for more tests a few days later. He looked up at you as you stood in the same spots you had, with you holding his clothes as he stripped them. 

“Jack talked to me,” he said.

“Proceed with caution,” you whispered and he chuckled.

“He thinks I stayed in the job because of the stability. That Jack created stability for me, a foundation.” 

“If he keeps going on like that you’re going to be investigating his murder,” you muttered bitterly. “Would you still date me if I murdered someone?” He shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. I mean, I’d have to consider it.” 

“Wrong answer Graham,” you said laughing lightly. He loved these moments. Moments where it was just laughing, joking. 

“I would date you if you killed someone. I mean I might have to turn you in but prison can’t be that hard on a relationship,” he said. You nodded.

“Right back at you bubba,” you whispered.

“I have killed someone.” 

“And look at you, still a free man.”

After the tests Will walked around, trying to find you or the doctor or someone. You were waiting for him and you walked up with his clothes in hand.

“Have you seen Sutcliffe?” Will asked. You shook your head.

“Not since earlier,” you admitted. “Let’s go find him.” You held his clothes in hand as you walked through the hospital. You peaked in rooms and eventually found Sutcliffes office. You pushed open the door as it was ajar. 

You gasped and Will grabbed you and put himself between you and the body, bleeding from a chunk that had been taken out of his face.

“Don’t look,” he whispered. 

“I can,” you muttered. “Call Bev.” 

-

The FBI came soon after. Beverly gave Will a look over, Jack concerned he might have had something to do with the murdedr.

“He was with me until he went in. And I would have seen him leave,” you promised. Bev nodded. 

“You’re clean. You couldn’t have done this without getting something on you and there’s nothing on you,” Beverly said.

“I don’t feel clean,” Will whispered. 

“Murder weapon has the same diseased or damaged tissue on it that we found at Beth LeBeau’s house,” Jimmy explained aloud.

“What connection does this guy have to the first victim?” Will let out a sigh.

“Just me.”

-

Will woke up and you were already sitting up. He followed your gaze that was at where one of the dogs growled at something under the bed. He grabbed your hand and shook his head.

‘Stay,’ he whispered. You shook your head vigorously and he nodded, getting off the bed and looking underneath. He slid underneath and you leaned your head over the bed, heart pounding in your ears.

“I see you, Georgia,” Will said under the bed. You couldn't see his face. There was a woman under your bed. “Think of who you are. It’s midnight. You’re in Wolf Trap, Virginia. Your name is Georgia Madchen. You are not alone.” 

“Am I alive…?” came a voice, a raspy whisper. Will nodded.

-

You stood with Will in the hospital room, looking down at the living body of the woman who had slept under your bed. You held Will’s hand as he glanced over her. 

“She’ll recover,” Will said.

“Hopefully she’ll stay out of our bed,” you whispered.

1x11

#will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal imagines #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter

[vrokhakan]

Another day away from his homeworld- away from his life and all his accomplishments. Back on Mido he had been somebody. Not famous or rich. But somebody. Field commander of a prominent private military contractor. And he'd worked very hard to get there. But here fresh on Sigma Rhada he had less clout than a two year old. The only meaning the name Vrok Hakan held here was a monthly lease in a ratty apartment building and a growing tab at the liquor store. At least the people were familiar. There were pockets of midoans scattered throughout the planet- most of the ones in this community were made up of refugees. People who were tired of the skirmshes between the city and forest dwellers or had lost everything because of them. Back home the two sides fought incessently. Here they were just happy to have more of their kind around. A midoan of either side was better than none at all.

Vrok pushed aside the front door of the low quality apartment building and climbed up the steps. The sounds of each room bled out into the hallway into a racket that made him miss the street noise. A hand planted onto his chest and broke through the fog of alcohol that kept his mind dwelling on the differences from his homeworld. Fingers snapped in front of his eyes and he craned his head down at the man who'd stopped him in the hallway. The man was older than Vrok- he'd been an adult more than half his life by this point- and dressed way too loudly to live in this part of the neighborhood.

"Hey. Did you hear me? I said: Do. You. Live. Here."

He pushed the man's hand away from his face, "Why do you care?"

"It's collections time," the man said, speaking in a way he might to somebody who was either simple or didn't understand their language.

"I already paid rent this month."

"What? No not rent- Oh I see. You must be new here. This isn't for rent. Everybody in the building chips in a small fee each month for security. It helps keep the bounty hunters from moving in here."

"Let them come here. What are they going to do? Steal the refrigerator out of my apartment? Because that's the only thing in there worth taking. And even then the damn thing rattles all night."

The man shook his head and spoke with a waning level of patience that already seemed low to begin with. "Look, bud, don't make this hard. Everyone here pays."

"Not everyone," Vrok said and pushed his way passed. The haze returned and when it cleared Vrok was climbing onto the couch of his living room with an old itchy blanket tugged over the thick orange and red-tipped fur of his arms. A thankfully dreamless sleep took over until being broken by a loud knock on his door. He sat up and took a deep breath, pinching between his tired eyes then turning to look out the window. Mid-day from the look of it. The day had started without him and it looked like he'd have to play catchup.

He groaned and tossed the blanket aside, unraveling where his wifebeater was bunched from a night of tossing and turning. "Just give me a minute, fuck," he muttered and grabbed a dark bottle on the table across from the couch. He shook it about and sighed. Empty. He'd have to do another beer run once he was done with whoever this was. The midoan took a deep breath and sighed standing up. Another knock, "Yeah I hear you. I'm coming, shit."

He walked across the room to the door and pulled it open. Vision flashed white and a shock of pain shot through his nose. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor.

Through the pain he could hear voices, "Yeah that's the one."

Another pain the size of a boot flared up in his stomach and then another in his back.

"Let's just see if you've got more than a dying refrigerator in here."

Another hit to the face left Vrok curled into a ball and covering as much of himself as he could. But no matter where he covered they always managed to find an equally bad spot to hit.

"Well damn I guess he wasn't lying. Look at this shit. The most he's got is a bar's worth of empty bottles."

"Hey, Arn! Take a look at this."

"Hoho. Maybe I spoke too soon. This armor should be worth quite a bit."

Vrok's ears perked up and his eyes opened wide. The pain flaring up through his body seemed to dull down and the heat flushed from his face. "Don't you touch that armor!" he yelled out.

"Think of it as a late fee for missing your security payment."

The midoan scrambled to his feet, barely even registering the kick to his mouth on his way up.  One of the men caught him by the fabric of his shirt and held him in place. The alien was much stockier than a midoan and even if Vrok was strong for his species it was still too much to overpower him. The one holding him spoke something that went unheard to Vrok as the man from the day before came into view carrying pieces of white and red body armor. His eyes widened at the sight of his last connection to his previous life went strolling out towards the door.

His hand lowered down to his side and fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle he'd checked earlier. Vrok swung it up and into the alien's head. Glass shattered and left the man reeling back. He charged the alien to their side who'd helped with the beating and drove the remnants of the bottle up into his throat. Vrok held the dying alien up and looked to his belt. If there was one thing Sigma Rhada had plenty of it was cheap guns like the one he found nestled in the waistline of the alien's pants.

He pulled it and turned to find the glassed alien charging at him. He fired two shots into him and side-stepped the falling body. Another of the men was caught mid-draw and Vrok fired three rounds into him. The clatter of his armor could still be heard over the ringing in his ears and he turned to see it all in a pile on the floor with the man from yesterday running out of the room and down into the hallway. Vrok fired a shot that clipped him through his gaudy jacket and left a red spray on the wall. The sound of hurried footsteps told him the man had lived. The ringing of his ears couldn't mask the gurgling of the man beneath him squirming around with the remnants of a bottle still in his neck and Vrok fired the last shot of the weapon into him.

The midoan adjusted his armor where he had re-placed it on the mannequin in his closet. It was all squared away now. His eyes glanced outside of the bedroom where the gunsmoke had tripped the smoke detector. Vrok shut the door and sighed, moving back to wave the smoke away from the chirping machine. At least he knew the landlord hadn't cheapened out on faulty detectors.

He dropped back down to the couch and took a deep breath. He glanced over at the two... three bodies on the floor and the gun on the table. He tested another bottle on the floor beside the table. Empty.

"Holy sh- You killed them," came a bewildered voice from the hallway.

"Nah, they were like that when I got here," Vrok said dryly and tossed the empty bottle back to the floor. He turned to look at the voice through a quickly swelling eye. "Don't tell me you're going to miss them."

"No. No not at all. Those Rever thugs have been shaking us down every month for years."

"Yeah? Surprised this didn't happen earlier then."

"Nobody here's a fighter," he said shaking his head. The white-furred midoan stepped in over the bodies. "In fact, I was a doctor back on Mido. I work in the clinic over on 53rd. I could take a look at those gashes if you want."

"Veda, is everything okay over there?" another voice called from the hallway.

"Yeah! It's all fine! Hey, could you go grab the medkit from my bedroom?"

Soon a small crowd of the apartment tenets had gathered around, some coming by to chat about the ordeal or to catch a glimpse of the fiery midoan who had put an end to the long time thugs. The stronger stomached ones hepled scrub away the blood and glass. A handful of off duty 'cleaners' even helped take the bodies away. By the end of the day Vrok had been introduced to nearly every tenet there. His room was full of gifts from various foods to new decorations and even a new blanket. The bottles were cleaned up, stains were gone, and there was a standing fan cooling the place down and thinning out the thick humid air. Vrok didn't understand it but he wasn't about to refuse a few upgrades to his living situation. Even if it was only making a dead end life somewhat more comfortable.

A few days had passed by and Vrok had become more familiar with the people living around him already. The man didn't try to be social but he would get stopped now and again by his neighbors for a conversation and over time he started to learn their names. They were nice enough but didn't quite seem to understand that Vrok just wanted to be alone. If it weren't for the need to visit the liquor store then he would have merely held himself up in his room. But there was no avoiding it.

Given how fast the news traveled about his run in with the thugs he shouldn't have been surprised the day he returned to somebody waiting for him. One of the women from the floor above him was surrounded a few of the tenets. All outside of his door.

"Vrok! Thank the gods you're here. These men came to my husband's store. They started asking about money and smashing things and they started to attack him! He told me to find help- a couple of the people from here went to help but you're the only one of us who has actually fought these people."

He didn't know how to respond. He merely stared at her blankly and shook his head. "Why do you think I want to get involved with all that?"

"We don't have much but we could pay you.. something at least."

Another voice chimed in from the group, "I'll throw something in too."

"Me too," came from the other side of the crowd.

Vrok opened his mouth to respond but the desperate eyes of the woman and the crowd all on him caught the refusal in his throat.

"I guess I could use the money. Alright. Hold on," he said and squeezed his way passed them and into his room.

"Fuck me man," he mumbled and pulled a handgun from a holster on his armor. "Don't get me mixed in with this shit," he checked the chamber and tucked the weapon into his waistline. "I just want to lay around here in peace until I fucking die, is that too much to ask?" He popped the top off of a bottle and took one quick mouthful before hurrying back outside.

The store was easy to find. He could hear the commotion from a block or two away. When he arrived the windows had been smashed out and the inside wasn't much better. The store looked like a bomb had gone off inside. Shelves were on their side, products were smashed and strewn all over, and the group who had set off to help were shouting at three aliens. Two of the aliens were holding off the crowd with their weapons drawn while the third had a midoan by the throat against the wall. The man who must have been the woman's husband looked dead already- if he wasn't then it would be a roll of the dice if he pulled through.

Vrok ran his fingers through his mohawk and took a deep breath. He hadn't taken any money yet. He could just walk away.

At least until eyes had turned on the new arrival.

"We don't need any more of a crowd in here. The store's closed, get out," one of the lookouts said.

"I'm a friend of his," Vrok nodded to the bloodied midoan. "I'm not leaving until you do."

"Hold on. Doesn't this guy look like the one Arn was telling us about?" the other one asked with his eyes squinted over at Vrok.

The other one started to nod, "You know what, I think he does."

Vrok saw their weapons turn towards him.

"Hey, why don't you come a bit closer so we can talk a little," one said.

Vrok looked between the two of them. Eyes met. Vrok drew his weapon in a way he'd trained to hundreds of times before. Unlike before he wasn't reliant on the bottom tier garbage of Sigma Rhada. This was his weapon. A mounted sight settled on the first guard's head and he fired two shots. Before he'd even seen the result he had already switched to the other. They had fired already but weren't ready for it and their rounds went into the floor. Vrok's hit home.

It had only been a second or two but the men were dead before the crowd even began to scatter. The third thug dropped the midoan and held his hands up. A shocked expression was plastered on his face and he looked between the two and then up to Vrok. "Woah woah. Hold on. Don't do anything stupid-" A shot blew through his head.

"Get him to the clinic," Vrok said motioning to the beaten store owner.

Two days went by. Vrok heard through the conversations going around the building that the woman's husband survived even if he still hadn't woken up. True to her word she'd paid a small amount- he hadn't expected much. Not from anybody who had to live in that dump but especially not a near-widow with a decimated store. The crowd funding had made it worth while, though. Apparently all together the building could come up with a nice little sum. Suddenly Vrok understood why somebody would run a protection racket on it. If he made that kind of money each month he'd have nothing to worry about.

A knock on his door broke his concentration. This was starting to become a trend. He wasn't about to be taken by surprise again. He picked his gun up off the table and checked through the peephole. It was one of the more active midoans around the building. One of the few who had at least made the effort to show up to the store. Even if he hadn't done anything meaningful in the end. Vrok remembered him as Kino.

Vrok answered the door, "Yeah?"

"Vrok. Those guys you killed a few days ago? Word finally got around to the Reavers. People are saying they're on their way to the store and they're going to burn it down."

He shrugged at him, "And where do I come into this? It's not my store."

"Please, Vrok. These people left everything on Mido. That store is all they have. And if it burns down the fire's going to spread to the other buildings. Other people's lives are going to be ruined too."

"Well... I guess last time I got paid.."

"We gave you everything we could spare for that, Vrok." He glanced side to side, desperate to come up with anything. Then his eyes widened, "A bounty! A lot of those Reavers probably have a bounty on them. You could make much more than what we paid you last time- maybe even triple if you're lucky!"

"A bounty, huh?" Vrok rubbed his chin. He always had a rule back on Mido. Never take a job where payment is a gamble. But this wasn't Mido and he couldn't just hop over to another city to get a better contract. "Alright. But you guys are going to actually help me this time."

He sent Kino off to go collect the others. When they returned weapons in hand they found Vrok standing tall in a suit of red, white, and black armor. He slid a cigar out from a plastic wrapping and ran a knife around the back of it.

"We're all here, Vrok. You ready?"

Vrok lit the cigar and blew a puff of sweet wood smelling smoke. He nodded, "Yeah. Let's go put out a fire."

#drabble #beginnings

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[swissmissficrecs]

Best Fics of 2018

Once again, this was a bumper year for fan fiction in the Sherlock BBC fandom*, with a few very long-anticipated fics coming to completion alongside some recent smash hits from established authors and even a couple of newer and lesser-known writers hitting it out of the ballpark. My picks are all, unsurprisingly, long, plotty, angsty Johnlock fics, featuring in particular post-series 4 fixits and Parentlock along with AU's, especially other professions and fusions/crossovers. What they all have in common though, is being of absolutely stellar quality not just in the technical aspects of the writing, but also the handling of themes, the character work, and the emotional impact. Any one of these could be a published book, and perhaps in the near future, some actually will be!

* (I also snuck in one ACD series because it’s my list and I can.)

My caveat as always: this list is obviously skewed toward my own personal preferences and reading habits. There are plenty of other fics that I loved, and even more that I simply didn’t get around to reading (yet), so it’s not a judgment if your favorite (or one you wrote) isn’t on here. Think of this as a sampling rather than a definitive list. I hope this will help you to re-acquaint yourself with fics you loved, give a chance to others you may have skipped the first time round, and possibly discover something entirely new and astonishing.

So here they are, in descending order of length:

The Men Who Talked Between the Words (439746 words) by Odamaki Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Summary: John expected to be a father some day; he expected to have the house, and the wife and the nice suburban job. Sherlock never expected to have children, in part because he never expected to make it past 30. As it turns out, you don't get a choice. Crammed into Baker Street with a baby, John struggles with single-parenthood and his own fears, while Sherlock treads the fine line between doing too little and saying too much.

Gravity (English Version) (282983 words) by kirin_calls Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Greg Lestrade/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor, John Watson/Victor Trevor Summary: Part 1: When John takes up mixed martial arts training, he doesn't expect it to lead to a new relationship. But there are darker things afoot at the gym, and John is soon drawn in deeper than he wants. When an old flame from Sherlock's past turns up, it's time for everyone to declare their loyalties... and for John to finally discover where his heart truly belongs. / Part 2: John is struggling with his loss. Plagued by nightmares, his life gone topsy-turvy, he is no longer able to lead a normal existence. As he seeks out some stability, some way to slowly pull himself up out of the morass of his grief, old rivals become friends and details about Sherlock's past come to light, leading John to discover something strange that won't let him go.

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest (280332 words) by Maribor_Petrichor Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

The Bluest of Blue (196473 words) by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Molly Hooper/Greg Lestrade Summary: John Watson's 10th season as a Denali National Park Ranger was shaping up to look like all the years before. Until a special team from Europe was flown into the Park for a summer-long wolf-tracking research project, and the head of that research team was wearing a perfectly tailored suit.

Scar Tissue (192179 words) by J_Baillier, 7PercentSolution Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John has scarcely recovered from his Afghanistan tour when Sherlock is injured at work, putting their already strained relationship to the test.

A Game of Hearts (162553 words) by zmethos Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/OMC Summary: Seven stories written circa 2010, after the first series/season of Sherlock but before Season 2. Therefore, none of these stories reflect anything from Season 2 onward! Think of it as an alternate timeline or something. Slow build of a relationship between Sherlock and John. Gets quite dark in places. [Note: This is an AO3 repost of a fic from fanfiction.net.]

Drift Compatible (130546 words) by J_Baillier Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

The Burning Heart (119461 words) by May_Shepard Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/Original Male Character(s) Summary: When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

Maintenance and Repair (106650 words) by patternofdefiance Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/OFC Summary: John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain.

The Wedding Garments (105390 words) by cwb Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Kintsukuroi (91822 words) by sussexbound Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

Missing Pages (78852 words) by PlaidAdder Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/Violet Hunter Summary: This is a group of interlinked short stories (most between 2000 and 7000 words) which tell the story of how Holmes and Watson really came to be separated at the Reichenbach Falls, and how they found each other again. Each story is in the form of a document--a letter, a journal, a surveillance report, an affidavit, etc.--which is linked to one or more ACD canon tales, and which tells us something about that story that was changed or suppressed in Watson's published account of it. Holmes/Watson, with glimpses of other relationships.

Summit Fever (78782 words) by J_Baillier Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, James Sholto/John Watson, James Sholto/OFC Summary: After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute? 

The Vapor Variant (72684 words) by 88thParallel Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Summary: Little did Sherlock know that the vapor to which he exposed John was a bioweapon— containing a bioengineered hybrid virus. Now, John is fighting for his life in the early stages of encephalitis, and it’s down to Sherlock and a team of scientists to save him, if they can only find him first. Sherlock needs to keep fear and guilt from getting the better of him if he’s to salvage his relationship with John—and that’s assuming the love of his life even survives….

Roommates are for little people (69055 words) by alexxphoenix42 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

Masters of Ink (67482 words) by Indybaggins Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John has a triple-coiled tattoo machine in his hand and a row of inks at the ready. He has gloves on, a willing client in front of him, and a detailed stencil. He is ready to win this bloody competition. Except he’s competing against Sherlock Holmes... First-meeting-on-a-reality-show AU, Ink Master edition! There is expert tattooing, slightly less expert flirting, and two men falling hard. But John is married, and they can’t all win.

floating through a dark blue sky (58872 words) by Lediona Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. *** Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day. [Notting Hill fusion]

The Wolf (55817 words) by Laur Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock gets it wrong. Days, months, even years in the future, Sherlock’s oversight during the Baskerville case will continue to torment him, but nothing about that night will ever be as painfully vivid as the memory of John’s screams. This is how it begins.

Christmas Time After Time (41473 words) by PlaidAdder Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/John Watson, Clara/Harry Watson Summary: John's not really big on Christmas; and this year, the first after Mary's death, he's not feeling it. Everyone's away, Sherlock's on a case--alone--and Rosie's asleep. But that's all right. He's fine. He'll just have a quiet Christmas Eve by himself, drinking in front of the telly. Only out there in time and space, there's another Doctor who thinks that sounds like the saddest thing ever. And she's going to do something about it. Thirteen takes John on a whirlwind tour of Christmases past and future. The more he learns about this time travel thing, the more John starts to wonder: how did his current timeline become...what it is? And might these alternatives hold the key to a less miserable present, and maybe a brighter future?

Whiteout (37041 words) by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A documentary crew follows the Matterhorn aerial rescue team from Air Zermatt, profiling the mechanics, pilots, and paramedics as they save patients on the infamous mountain. Their camera may catch more than they're looking for, however, when it comes to a certain paramedic named John Watson. . .

The Winter Garden (31211 words) by Callie4180 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

A Home for Us (30583 words) by sussexbound Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Another Auld Lang Syne (30234 words) by DiscordantWords Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: There had been years of missed chances.

A Singular Friendship (28679 words) by agirlsname Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock is closer to John than anyone has ever been. It's almost like a relationship - but John isn't gay, so it's clearly not. Not even when they hold hands and hug every day, not even when they sleep in the same bed, not even when they cuddle every morning...

Stradivarius (20298 words) by Berty Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Life goes back to what passes for normal at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock's back and his scars have faded. John's still a confirmed bachelor and his nightmares have mostly ceased. So why are there awkward pauses and uncertain glances? Why are they both on their best behaviour? It's been a long, cold winter in London and there's more to come before spring arrives.

One Good Scare (17381 words) by blueink3 Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Mummy invites Sherlock, John, and Rosie to the country for her birthday, which just so happens to coincide with the annual Harvest Festival, an event Sherlock loathes. With John seemingly making the wrong move at every turn and with ghosts hiding in each of their closets, what will it take for their (Halloween) masks to finally come off?

Oh, my friends, it's been a long hard year (11914 words) by splix Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mr. Chatterjee/Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock Holmes' Father/Mummy (Sherlock) Summary: Christmas is rubbish this year.

#rec list #best

[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART SEVEN

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: M (Swearing, Kissing, Smut, NSFW)

Word Count: 4800+

Description: Jordynne gets a glimpse into Ethan’s brain and gets Bryce into her bed. Ethan’s jealousy gets the best of him. 

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: The fMRI diamond scene in Ethan’s point of view! Jordynne hooks up with Bryce at her house warming party and Ethan finds out the next day. 

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy @owleyes374@professorortegasstudent@mindlessdreaminxo @mayar-mahdy @paisleylovergirl @nicquix @emilymay100 @octobereighth

Previous Updates: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

PART SEVEN  

Why did he always seem to get himself in these situations with her?

He was standing in the middle of a newly constructed room— his back turned to Jordynne as he loosened his tie. Gulping, he placed it down before shrugging off his lab coat and unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m ready,” He said, turning around to face her.

It really didn’t matter — it was just for the test. For an experiment, science. His eyes darted to her pink lips, noticing her bite it slightly as she looked at his naked torso.

Quickly looking away, he laid down on the cold metal table, adjusting himself before holding out his arm to her. She grabbed his arm gently, pressing her fingers against his wrist palpating the veins — he swallowed at her touch. His blue eyes watched her work, “You do know how to perform an intravenous injection, don’t you?”

She rolled her green eyes at him, before grabbing onto the syringe. “You’re about to find out.” A mischievous grin spreading across her face. Ethan took a deep breath as she inserted the needle, focusing on the feeling of her warm hand on his forearm and the spreading cold sensation of the Gadolinium being injected into him.

He let out the breath as she took the needle away, watching as she disposed of it and peeled off her rubber gloves. “Well done. Barely felt a thing.”

Jordynne fixed her ponytail, smirking at him again, “I did go to medical school, you know.” Striding back to the machine, she loomed over him for a moment, “See you on the other side,” She pressed a button on the fMRI and Ethan felt the metal table start to slide into the donut of the enclosure.

He heard the click of her steps as she headed up into the control room. Taking a deep breath, Ethan tried to relax his mind. Why would she invite him to her housewarming party? Did she want him there? Or was it a general invitation? Did she actually think he would go? Or could go?

Even if he could, he needed to spend all of his downtime on Naveen. That was his priority.

“Can you hear me alright?” Jordynne’s honeyed voice spoke through the speaker within the enclosure.

“Loud and clear,” Ethan closed his eyes, preparing himself. “Very loud, in fact.”

“Ha ha.” He could hear the smile in her voice, even through the speaker. “Beginning the first scan,”

The machine started to whir around him, humming as the cycling began. He laid perfectly still for a moment, before curiosity got the best of him, “How is it looking?”

There was a pause, “Your brain looks… like a brain.”

He let out a chuckle, “I suppose I should be grateful for that.” Opening his eyes, he looked back inside the contraption — noticing all the moving parts, “So far, so good. Now let’s test the detection of the contrast media. Ask me some questions. Different parts of my brain should illuminate with increased hemodynamic flow.” This is why he had asked Holland — he trusted her so far, they had always played their questions game before. Now there just was a machine showing her his brain while he answered — it was only a little intimate.

“What kind of questions?” She asked softly.

He let out a breath, “Perhaps you could start with “‘Why am I making Dr. Ramsey think of everything?'”

“Fine, uh,” She hesitated, “Who do you love most in the world?”

Ethan blinked — that had gotten serious fast. “That’s…. quite a first question.”

Jordynne’s soft laugh made it through the speakers, “Just trying to provoke an emotional response in the scan.”

He stayed silent — thinking. He thought to his empty apartment, his naked ring finger. No one there. Did he love Harper anymore? Not really — not like before. His parents? It had been months, almost a year since he had spoken to them. Even when he did, it was a simple conversation around the holidays and work. Nothing more. Naveen? He couldn’t go down that route — not now.

His nostrils flared as he finally spoke, “I was once close with my family, though that time has passed. I suppose I feel a strong affection for my dog, Jenner.” He thought of his pet — it had been a couple days since he had been home. He really should go see him.

“You named your dog after Kylie?”

His thick brows furrowed, “I absolutely did not! Edward Jenner was the —“

But Jordynne cut him off, her voice filled with humor, “The father of immunology. I know. I was just messing with you.”

A laugh escaped his lips. Of course, she knew that.

“And it worked. Your amygdala lit it up like a Christmas tree when I got you riled up.”

Ethan felt his face get hot — riled up. “Let’s move along. Next question.”

“What’s your proudest accomplishment?”

“Hmm…” He paused again, thinking. She was good at this.

“Was it when you won the Adeyemi Prize? Or when you were selected to be the keynote at the AADM conference?”

Her knowledge of his accomplishments made him flush. She knows way too much about it, but almost nothing at all at the same time. He thought. “No, no, nothing like that. I think it was when I applied for med school.”

“When you… applied?” Her voice was confused.

“Yes.” He said with certainty, “All those other things were other people’s decisions. What I’m most proud of is my decision. To leave behind what had been planned for me and embark on my own path.” He remembered the day he had received his acceptance letter, the look on his father’s face.

“Do you want kids?” The question caused him to blink back to reality.

Ethan clamped his mouth down, not saying anything for so long, that Jordynne reached out again, “Dr. Ramsey?”

“I heard you. I’m thinking.” It was a difficult question. He longed for something he didn’t have now, that he wasn’t sure he could ever have. He had day-dreamed of it before — a big, stretched out belly of a faceless woman, baby-proofing his apartment, a sense of excitement and nervousness of being a father. But who would dare settle down with him, the emotionally unavailable, workaholic diagnostician? Who would commit to raising a family with a semi-present partner — someone who would take care of his patients over his own child?

“I’m not sure if that’s in the cards for me.”

“No?” Her voice was gentle.

Ethan swallowed, “I don’t think I’d be able to be there for them, at least not the way they would need. Besides, I’ve seen too many horror stories firsthand.” He thought to Dolores, to the ward full of children with cancer a few floors up from them, the busy NICU.

Letting out a sigh, he continued, “Okay, one more. Ask something complex.”

“Alright…,” She hesitated, he could hear her breath through the speakers.

“Out with it Jordynne.”

“What do you think of attending-resident relationships?” She blurted out.

Ethan’s blue eyes snapped open, staring into the inside of the fMRI. “I’m sorry?”

She didn’t miss a beat, “You heard me.”

He furrowed his brows, “Attendings are responsible for the management and training of the residents. That has to take priority. Romantic entanglements… interfere with that. We’re doctors.” Why would she ask this? He wished he could see her face, study it to try and figure out what was going on her head right now. ‘Cause his mind was reeling. Licking his lips, he continued, “Besides, any intimate feelings are just neurochemical responses to heightened stress and frequent exposure to each other.” His heart hammered in his chest, waiting for her response.

“Riiiight.” She drawled, before letting out a laugh.

Letting out a huff, Ethan closed his eyes. “I think we’re done here.”

The humming of the machine suddenly stopped, and the metal table slid out of the contraption. He got up quickly, grabbing onto his discarded clothes. Ethan had just finished buttoning up his shirt as Jordynne appeared from the control room.

He coughed before speaking, “I take it the machine is working normally?”

“Like a charm.” Her green eyes followed his fingers as he re-tied the knot in his tie.

“Excellent. Thank you… for the assistance.” He gulped — trying to get a read on her.

“Anytime.” Her pink lips spread into a smile, “Next time, you can ask the questions.”

Ethan nodded awkwardly at her, before turning on his heel. He thought that doing this fMRI would take his mind off of things — but it had only made things worst. Opening his mouth to speak, he thought about questioning her but he thought better of it. “Rookie,” He nodded again, before leaving the room without another word, leaving Dr. Holland alone in the room.

_______________________________________________________________________

Bracing the heavy beer keg on her hip, Jordynne fumbled in front of their apartment building — trying to get the door open. Her arms were exhausted — not only did she have to lug this thing on the subway, but she couldn’t get the smell of vomit off of her, even after her shower. It had been a long day, to say the least.

And Dr. Ramsey had been even harder to read than usual. She thought she was making ground with him — after Dolores, at the baseball game. But he had refused to come tonight, even though other Attendings were coming. And he seemed so awkward after the fMRI questioning — maybe she had gone too far. But she was so curious — she had Ethan’s brain in front of her, she couldn’t help herself.

Her eyebrows furrowed as left the elevator, hopping out onto their floor to find a packed hallway. “Sorry, excuse me,” She twisted her body around the large group of people before finding her apartment door already open. It was packed with people — most of them hospital staff.

“Holy crap,” She muttered to herself, too quiet to be heard over the loud music and laughter as people played drinking games.

“Jordynne!” A blur of brown caused her to jump, as Ines wrapped her arms around her in a half-hug. Some of her drink sloshed around in her cup, drenching the back of Jordynne’s shirt. “Thanks so much for inviting us!” Her voice sounded slightly slurred.

Jordynne smiled politely as Dr. Mirani approached, “Oh! Dr. Miarani! I’m, uh… really glad you could join us.”

Ines let out a laugh, hitting her arm gently, “We’re outside the hospital, you can call him Zaid!”

Jordynne shuffled her feet, trying to balance the weight of the heavy key but not wanting to be rude.

Zaid gave her a sheepish smile, “This is really great, Holland. I’m loving this party.”

“I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic,” Jordynne said to herself, shaking her head before she started to waddle towards the kitchen, weaving through the crowd, “Excuse me, sorry… Coming through!”

Suddenly the weight in her arms was alleviated, and she turned around and was face to face with Bryce. “Lemme help with that. I was wondering where you were.”

She smiled, following him into the kitchen as he placed the keg on the counter. “At the hospital, getting puked on. Again.”

His brown eyes flashed, a grin growing on his face. “I love when you talk dirty.”

Barking out of a laugh, she grabbed onto his bicep easily, “At least one of us does. Give me a minute to get showered and changed.”

“I’ll be here,” He winked at her before turning back to the keg to finish setting it up.

Rushing into the bathroom closest to her room, Jordynne flung her clothes into the basket, threw up her hair and jumped into the shower. She started scrubbing at her skin, trying to get the smell of vomit and booze off of her. A smile spread across her face as she thought of Bryce waiting for her out there. They had been spending more time together — catching each other in the cafeteria, drinks after work at Donahue’s and the occasional supply room make out. It was easy with him. No questions, no uncertainty.

Closing her eyes, she let the water fall over her face for a moment while she remained thinking. It wasn’t like how it was Ethan. Not that her and Ethan made out in supply closets. But he was so exasperating — one moment he was confiding in her, trusting her and the next she was back to being called “Rookie”. And why did he not want to come tonight?

Why did it bother her so much that he didn’t want to?

Sighing, she turned off the shower, grabbing a nearby towel and wrapping herself in it. She didn’t need to get riled up about Ethan. Bryce was here, and he wanted to be here. That’s what mattered.

Standing in front of the mirror, Jordynne quickly put on some fresh makeup — her long lashes curled and pink lips shiny with gloss. Letting her hair down again, she fussed with it until it framed her face.

Sneaking into her room, she stood in front of her wardrobe rummaging through her clothes. A shiny, red top caught her eye and she pulled it on with ease, leaving her bra behind. Jumping into a pair of tight black jeans, she paused in front of the mirror. As she headed to open her bedroom door, she paused to squirt some perfume onto her pulse points before heading back into the loud living room.

Somehow it seemed even busier in the apartment than it had when she left, but Jordynne found Bryce easily. He matched her smile as they met eyes, but it faltered as his eyes trailed up and down her body.

He walked up to her, his eyebrows raised. “Oh, damn.”

She pursed her lips, “Problem?”

Taking a sip from his red cup, Bryce shook his head, “Just admiring the transformation.”

Jordynne let a sly smile spread across her face, “Are you saying I looked terrible before?”

He stepped closer to her, she could smell his warm and fresh scent. “I’m saying you look killer now.” He whispered in her ear.

She eyed the drink in his hand, before looking up to meet his eyes, “I need to see a doctor about some shots.”

A mischievous grin grew on his lips, “I think I’m due for some of those myself. Lead the way!”

Jordynne grabbed onto his forearm, pulling him with her towards the drinks.

Several shots, drinks and beer pong games later, Jordynne’s tan skin was flushed red from the booze. The night had turned quiet about an hour before, many of the guests had started to leave once they had finished up their games. She finished hugging Ines, before turning on her heel back into the living room. Looking around at the mess and few people left behind, she muttered to herself, “Wow. What a party…”

She noticed Bryce in the dining room, collecting cans into a recycling bag. A small smile spread over her face as she padded over to him. He noticed her, “Just about done cleaning up over here, Jordynne…”

Grabbing onto some nearby cans, Jordynne closed the distance between them — adding them into the blue bag.

“Thank you,” He said, starting to tie up the full bag.

“Thank me? You’re the one staying late to clean up our party.”

He shrugged, “Eh. Force of habit, I guess. Messes seem to follow me around for some reason. I’m pretty used to cleaning them up at this point.”

She looked around at the cleaning room, “I can see that.” Grabbing the bag out of his hands, she placed it next to the couch. “You know…,” She bit her lip, eyeing Bryce’s mouth. “You don’t have to go home.”

“Oh yeah?” He lowered his voice, edging closer to her, “And where would I sleep?”

Jordynne licked her lips, grabbing onto his bicep, “With me.”

Bryce let out a breath, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Lowering her hand, she wrapped her fingers around his before pulling him down the hallway. As soon as they were out of the sight of the others, their lips crashed together passionately — both of their mouths tasting of booze. Jordynne fumbled for her doorknob behind her until they both staggered backward into the room — not breaking their kiss.

Grabbing onto Jordynne’s chin, Bryce took control of the kiss — pressing her up against the wooden door, slowing the kiss down and deepening it.

Breaking their kiss, she opened her eyes, “Do you think anyone saw us?”

“Do you care?” He smirked.

“Not really.”

“Good,” He slid his hands under Jordynne’s sequinned shirt, his fingers trailing up her spine. He chuckled as she let out a happy sigh, before stopping his hand. “No bra?” He questioned, feeling her bareback.

The pair looked down at her cleavage before he looked up smirking. “You are gorgeous and I need to see a whole lot more of you.” Tugging at her top, Jordynne lifted her arms over her head so he could pull it off. The cold air caused her nipples to harden slightly. Bryce eyed her hungrily, before pushing his lips back onto hers. His kisses trailed down to her chin, then her neck and down her bare shoulders.

“Mmm…,” Jordynne let out as she leaned into the gesture.

Bryce grabbed onto her hips, his strong hands spinning her around to press her ass into him. He continued kissing her neck, biting gently every so often as he played with the top of her jeans. His fingers effortlessly slid into her pants, feeling Jordynne’s smooth skin. She shuttered at the feeling as he groaned in her ear, “You went commando? God, you’re hot.”

With a quick zip, her pants were at her ankles and she was stepping out of them, stark naked compared to Bryce, who was still fully dressed. “You are… very good at this.” She was a little breathless.

“I’m good at a lot of things,” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at her. He grabbed the back of her head, capturing her mouth again — his hands roaming to her back, to her breasts to her hips to her inner thigh.

Jordynne’s knees buckled slightly, but she continued to whisper to him, “You did tell me you had the best hands…”

“And?” His voice muffled through kissing her neck and chest.

“And I need more convincing,” See smirked, moving her neck away from his greedy lips.

Bryce let out a laugh, putting his hands on her hips and guiding her towards the bed. The backs of Jordynne’s knees hit her mattress, and she squinted at him. “How am I completely naked while you’re still dressed?”

He bit his lip, staring down at her, “Feel free to fix that.”

Grabbing onto the hem of his sweater, Jordynne pulled it over his head — pushing his messy hair back. Taking charge, her long fingers started unbuttoning his shirt — revealing his tan chest. Her pink lips met his warm skin, as she kissed his collarbone. Her fingers pushed his shirt aside, feeling his hard abs. His shirt hit the floor, as she playfully pushed him onto the bed — his body bouncing up and down on the mattress. A devilish smile crossed her lips, as she unbuttoned his jeans and started tugging them down.

Bryce watched her looming over him, and he swallowed. “Better?”

She crawled on top of him, putting her knees on either side of him, “So much.” Leaning down, Jordynne kissed him. His strong arms came around her middle, pushing her into him tightly. As their kisses turned more passionate, their hips began to move against each other. Jordynne could feel him twitching between the thin fabric of his underwear. His fingertips dug into her hips at the feeling.

Bryce broke the kiss, his eyes studying hers for a moment — both of them breathless. “Are you sure you want this?”

Bending over, she nipped at his earlobe, “Keep going, Lahela.”

His brown eyes darkened with desire, “Whatever you want, Jordynne.” His fingers slid down her hips into her inner thigh.

She closed her eyes, relishing in the touch, “Whatever I want?”

Suddenly, his strong hands flipped her over — her blonde hair wildly splayed out on the bed as he pressed her onto her back. Her tan legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him into her. He pressed his lips to hers again, the kisses long and soft.

“Tell me.” His perfect fingers untangled from her hair, trailing down her jawline, her neck, the curve of her breasts before settling just under her belly button. “Jordynne? What do you want?”

She gulped, looking at him through her thick lashes, “I want you to touch me.”

Biting his lip, his fingers slid down her leg before cupping her. She squirmed under his touch, causing him to smile, “You’re stunning.” He whispered, his lips teasing hers as his fingers plunged into her.

Jordynne let out a moan at the feeling, before crashing her mouth back onto his — muffling her sounds. She lifted her hips off of the bed, pushing his fingers deeper inside her. She broke their kiss, trying to catch her breath, “You really do have the best hands.”

He grinned, before placing his mouth on her breast — enveloping her nipple. She let out a sound as he let go of it, another smile breaking across his face at her reaction. “You should see what the rest of me can do,” His lips started trailing down her stomach, then her hips, her thigh until his mouth met his fingers.

Jordynne threw her head back, her fingers grabbing onto Bryce’s soft hair, pulling on it gently as he licked at her. Her thighs started trembling as a familiar warmth started building in her belly, “Oh, Bryce…” She let out a loud moan, her thighs tightening around his strong shoulders as she found her release. Biting her lip, she whimpered — trying to keep quiet in the apartment filled with people.

Finally, her legs relaxed, falling to his side. Bryce knelt between her legs, his eyes smoldering as he stared at Jordynne — her long, blonde hair sprawled out behind her, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. “And?”

She let out a happy sigh, “You are good at a lot of things.”

He let out a breathy laugh, before pushing his hips back into hers. She could feel his hard member, twitching in the thin fabric of his underwear. The pair groaned at the feeling, and Jordynne pushed her fingers into the waistband of his briefs.

Bryce closed his dark eyes, his mouth opening as she grabbed onto him. Gulping, he opened his mouth to speak but Jordynne cut him off, “Top drawer.”

He grinned at her, before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a condom. It tore open easily, and he quickly slipped off his underwear before kneeling back down between Jordynne. She took it from him, pumping his shaft in her hand before rolling the condom on for him. Bryce closed his eyes, arching his back at her touch.

Bending over, their lips caught in a kiss again — and Jordynne felt herself melt into Bryce. She opened her legs for him, his hips burying into hers. The pair let out a gasp as he entered her, her walls stretching to let him in. Grabbing onto her leg, he hooked it around his waist, his shaft shoving into her more deeply.

“Bryce!” Jordynne let out, squirming beneath him as he withdrew from her before thrusting back in. He silenced her with an open-mouthed kiss, swallowing her moans. The kiss was urgent and raw — she grabbed onto his shoulder, bracing herself as their hips rocked faster and harder together.

The feeling of coming undone came closer and closer, and she tipped her head back, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna —“

“Fuck, Jordynne," Bryce groaned, his hands bracing himself on her hips, his fingers squeezing her. His hips started pumping erratically, Jordynne biting down on her lip to keep quiet as the insides of her eyes went white. He grunted soon after, spilling into her.

The pair stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, both of their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Bryce stayed hovering over her, before pressing his lips softly to hers. Pulling back, he smiled at her, “We’re gonna do that again, right?”

Jordynne let out a laugh, kissing his tan cheek, “Hell yeah.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Golden light trickled in through the cafeteria window, casting a glow on the crowd of people inside. Ethan was sitting in the corner at a table all by himself — a closed textbook and tray of food in front of him. He didn’t frequent the cafeteria very often, but he had needed to take a break from his office. He was spending every spare moment in there — before work, coffee breaks, lunch, after work. Any spare moment he had to be used to research Naveen’s condition. But he still hadn’t come up with anything. So instead of blankly staring at his computer upstairs, Ethan was blankly staring out of the window, chewing quietly.

Ethan let out a sigh as a pair of particularly chatty nurses sat down at the table near him. There goes his peaceful lunch hour. He started to grab his things, ready to leave but he overheard something that made him stop.

“Last night was so much fun.”

“Same, Varma and Holland sure know how to throw a party.” The two nurses gossiped, both of them scrolling through their phones.

Ethan sat back down, opening up the textbook in front of him and pretending to read. Even though he had refused to go, he was still interested.

“Their roommates are cool too. Elijah’s taste in music was great.”

The other nurse rolled her eyes, “Honestly, Vera just talk to him. Besides, who was looking at anyone but Lahela. God, I could eat him with a spoon.” She flashed her friend her phone, before turning it back to herself with a smile.

“I think Jordynne, beat you to that.”

Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?” He thought.

“What?!” The other nurse echoed Ethan’s thoughts, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“You saw them last night, they were all over each other. Besides, Tanya’s friends with his roommate and apparently Bryce never came home last night.”

Ethan gulped, confused at the twisting feeling he felt in his stomach.  

“Damn, good job Holland.”

Ethan’s chairs scrapped loudly as he suddenly pushed it back — standing up. The two nurses looked up to him, taken aback by his sudden movement. Gulping, he grabbed onto the textbook before racing out of the cafeteria.

He could feel a heat spreading on his neck, and his fingers were curling into a fist. He should have just gone to the stupid party — taken a break from Naveen’s case, then maybe nothing would have happened between them. Why did he care that something had happened between them? She wasn’t his. She was his intern, a rookie. Nothing else.

Still, as he thought that he couldn’t help but feel the knot in his stomach. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he turned out of the elevator, swallowing hard. Of course, Jordynne’s face was the first that he saw. She was leaning against the nurses' station, a huge smile plastered on her face. She was twirling her pen around nervously, speaking with someone he couldn’t see.

Moving down the hallway, his steps faltered once more. It was Lahela, leaning up next to her casually — his elbow propping up his head as he watched her. Ethan gripped the textbook in his hand harder as he watched him lean into her, whispering into her ear. Jordynne let out a laugh, swatting at the surgeon’s muscular arm.

Setting his jaw, Ethan started to stride past them, catching a piece of their conversation. “Come on… you know you want to.” The surgeon growled at her, his voice low and suggestive.

Jordynne’s green eyes went wide, her face flushing as she noticed Ethan walking past, “And I will see you later.”

She tried to fall into step with him, but Ethan picked up his pace. He did not want to see her right now. His mind was still reeling, and he felt like throwing the textbook in his hand at a wall.

“Morning Dr. Ramsey,” She greeted him softly, but he ignored it. She didn’t give up, “I just wanted to give you an update—“

He turned on his heel, finally facing her, “Not now, Rookie. Find someone else to bother.” His nostrils flared.

Her pink mouth opened in surprise, taken aback by his reaction.

Ethan didn’t wait for her to reply, before spinning around and heading in the opposite direction. Distance yourself. Distance yourself. He repeated the thought in his head, marching away from her as fast as possible.

Part Eight

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