round one to the doctor

4

A/N: I was asked by @kaya174 if I was going to do a second part to this, and I didn’t intend to but here we are! 

Part one


“So Doctor?” Amy asked swinging round the console as the doctor flicked switches here and there with a skip and and a jump. “Yes thats me” he grinned then paused suddenly “sometimes” he corrected before continuing with his jumping. “How many rooms are in this place?” she asked
“Yeah, I found a door labelled ‘scone room’” Rory said pulling a face and the doctor shot him a look “What’s wrong with that?” he asked “I like scones” he said with an additional mutter under his breath. “Yeah, but it leads to questions, how many rooms?” Amy asked again.
“Oh I don’t know um… a lot?” he said as if too many things where going on in his head and throwing his arms in the air as he thought. “Hang… on” he said pausing suddenly as if he was realising something that should have been obvious. “There’s something else… what is it?” he asked, the doctors voice had become caring and soft. “Doctor, what’s the room with the wooden door?” Amy asked curiously with a bounce as she made her way over to her best friend. His face fell. Why do all the latest companions keep asking? “Nothing, forget it” he said and tried to fake being the excitable puppy he usually was. “No” Amy said dragging out the letters in her Scottish accent. “What is it? Only door to look like its falling apart, so it has to be something” she said following him as he danced around the centre of the TARDIS. “Well of course it has to be something, it can’t literally be nothing, thats impossible. But it doesn’t matter, just leave it.”

“Right well then–“ she said before glancing at her husband and nodding. Before the doctor could stop either of them they had disappeared into the TARDIS corridors. He sighed and leaned his elbows on the console so that his head could rest in the palms of his hands in exhaustion. “Why Y/N does no one ever listen to me?” he muttered out loud.

“Amy?” Rory hissed as he followed her down the corridors. “He said don’t”
“Yeah and when do I listen to him? There is something about this door and its important” she said. On reaching the door she reached out on of her perfectly manicured hands and twisted the handle. “It won’t open” she complained
“Mind out” Rory said and she moved to one side trying to open it as well but still nothing. “Move” said a soft voice behind the pair made them freeze, look at each other with a sideways glance  before turning around to see the doctor stood there. His face was forlorn, that sad expression he did when he was thinking about the past. “Donna found this room as well…” he said and smiled sadly a little bit “I really ought to hide it better” he mused.
“Doctor, what’s in there?” Amy asked again. “Something I tried very hard to forget about” he sighed before stepping forwards and pushing the door open without even trying.

On walking in Amy and Rory saw the same thing Donna Noble had done all those years ago; dark and dusty filled with the same furniture. The TARDIS may have changed but this room is a constant. “Doctor… what is this…?” Amy asked “and who is she?” Amy pointed at a picture frame on the vanity table, it was of a girl with Y/C/H and a kind face. “She um…” it was as if the doctor was struggling to find the right words to explain what had happened, or didn’t want to. “Hang on, is that a… a cot?” Rory asked and the doctor smile sadly “Um… yeah.”

“Doctor, do you have children?” Amy asked and he shook his head “She was going to-“
“She being?”
“Y/N she was going to have a baby” he said and tears began to well in his eyes. This regeneration of the doctor is much more open emotionally than the last one.  “My baby” he added before falling on the bed, face first. What Amy and Rory didn’t know was that he had fallen onto your pillow. Breathing in the sent of your perfume that lingered behind, preserved by the TARDIS just like everything else in the room. “Doctor?” Amy asked carefully, glancing at Rory and creeping forwards to sit on the edge of the bed to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. His head rolled over to look at her, his eyes red and tear streaked cheeks. “What was she like?” Amy asked in an attempt to try and cheer him up. “She was… she was like a star… my own personal star that stayed with me. She was… she was Y/N” he told her before sitting up slowly to look at the pair. “We where going to have a baby… she worried it was going to have three heads or a space face” he chuckled remembering.

“Doctor?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say something like this has never happened before?” you asked and he glanced at you from behind the console with a frown. “You mean…?”
“I mean” you said jumping to your feet, facing him and forcing him to stop jumping around and look at you. “What if its got I don’t know… three heads or a space face?” you pulled a disgruntled face
“A space face, whats that supposed to mean?” he asked looking almost offended and going to play with something on the console. “Oh you really bother me sometimes” you huffed “you know what I mean!” he shot you another look “Time lord” you pointed at him. “Human” you pointed at yourself. “Baby” you pointed at your stomach. Tears welled a little in your eyes as you began to panic and your heart began to race. He saw the fear on your face and sighed stopping to walk round and pull you close into his arms and place a kiss on your forehead. “No, this hasn’t happened before… but I promise Y/N that I’ll keep you, both, safe.”

“What happened to her?” Amy asked pulling the doctor back to reality. “She died. She had gone to labour…” the doctor trailed off again as the tears over took. Amy’s hand flew to her mouth as her heart broke. “Y/N died… I couldn’t save her, the baby was too much like me. I killed her” he cried.

Chapter 3: Home, Memories and Trying to Recover

Fic Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

Genre: a lot of fluff, recovery, really fucking domestic, waiter!Phil

Warnings: eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, hospitals, panic attacks, references to past abuse, a lot of awkwardness. This is potentially triggering so for your own sake, please think twice about reading if anything this might affect you.

Disclaimer: I don’t have personal experience with eating disorders, but have done some research. If I have anything about them wrong, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll sort it out.

Word Count (for this part): 5.6k

[Uploads will be approximately every week!]

MASTERPOST

<= Previous Chapter


Dan and I both had a long lie that first morning together. He hadn’t slept terribly well in the hospital, due to the beeps of machines and sounds from other patients. Although I’d had a number of long lies, the worry had stopped me from sleeping to my full potential. We both needed it, and the lazy day that followed. We spent the day playing video games, and then later on, watching films. Dan was eating, not a lot because his appetite wasn’t that great, but it was a start.

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Car Accidents Part 2: Pack Imagine

Originally posted by teenw4ever

Originally posted by teenwolf

You guys really wanted Part 2 so here you go! Enjoy! Xxxx

Part 1

Now I’m not what they call self-obsessed. I look at myself like twice a day. Once to put on make-up and the other to take it off. But I couldn’t stop looking at myself.

Couldn’t stop checking to see if my eyes were purple or that my teeth were the correct length and not long sharp fangs. But apparently they were the only werewolf abilities I was getting.

The dark bruises, long cuts and aching muscles proved that. The doctors at the hospital didn’t know what to say about when the Dread Doctors attacked. So they decided not to say anything at all. Because you know, maturity.

I, on the other hand was let out of the hospital 2 weeks later, labelled as a miracle on legs. When I saw the wreck I looked like, I highly disagreed.

Another thing that happened? I had 2 werewolves and an exceptionally loud human following me EVERYWHERE. Every class, every break, every lunch… And I was so grateful. I needed their constant chatter in my ear and the comforting presence that they were there, still with me.

“Y/N.” Stiles snapped his fingers in front of my face, which I was inspecting in a compact mirror, convincing myself that my eyes were indeed purplish.

“Hmm?” I looked up, snapping the mirror closed. “We’re all going out to practise lacrosse, wanna come?” I knew I didn’t really have a choice on whether or not I went but I nodded enthusiastically, smiling at his excited face.

“Let’s go!” He said, grabbing my hand and dragging me down to the gym department.

We split up at the lockers, and I head out to the bleachers. I sit down near the front, hearing the rusty metal creak as I dump my bag down.

I frowned when I saw the dilemma I had. The fractured ribs and about 100 rolls of bandage made it nearly impossible to sit down without at least something hurting.

I tried several techniques but none stopped me from either crying out in pain or being able to actually sit down on the seat.

“Hey, Y/N!” I heard from behind me and I twisted round to see Theo jogging up towards me, before swiftly jumping over the fence and right up to me.

“Need a hand?” He asked, offering his arm out to me. I nodded, grabbing onto it as my knees started to buckle.

I bit down on my lip to stop more shouting and all of a sudden the pain was just gone, drained away from me as Theo gripped onto my wrists. Black lines blossomed on his skin as my pain was taken away.

“Thanks.” I smiled as I finally sat down properly. “No problem.” Theo dismissed before glancing over to the doors were the rest of the boys were coming out.

“Gotta go.” He said, squeezing my hand one more time before taking over running again, this time vaulting over the fence as if it wasn’t 2 meters tall.

“What did he say to you?” Liam asked as soon as we were in ear shot.

“Nothing, just helping me to sit down.” I dismissed but none of them looked convinced.

“I don’t trust him.” Stiles said to no one in particular despite the fact that he said this at least 4 times a day anyway.

“He saved your life.” I said, pointing to the dark, black bruises around Stiles’ throat, a perfect shadow of the Dread Doctors hands.

I could already tell Stiles didn’t care. Apparently Theo was “gone without redemption” to him.

“Go play lacrosse!” I huffed at them, shooing them away. They shouldered their sticks and made their way to the field, muttering as they went.

I rolled my eyes, but sat quietly. I wasn’t a lover of lacrosse but I loved how happy it made all the boys. Their eyes practically danced when they were shooting that ball in the net.

I watched for a good 10 minutes as they shot balls into the net, Liam getting in every one, not even needing his werewolf reflexes for it. Scott took a minute to get into it, a couple of them hitting off the pole. And Stiles…to put it kindly was not doing his best.

“Scott.” I said and Scott, who was a good 50 meters away, perked his head up as he looked at me. “Going to the bathroom.” I pointed to the doors and he nodded.

With a big huff I managed to heave myself to my feet, limping down the bleachers and through the front door.

The place was completely deserted. Not even Coach was in his office, yelling about…well everything. One time I even heard him yelling because the cafeteria frozen yoghurt was so bad. 5 minutes later, Greenberg was walking back to the changing room with mango yoghurt dripping down his neck.

I stopped suddenly, tilting my head to the side. A loud, long droning noise filled the air, layered with a buzzing sound. I didn’t start to panic until I heard the unmistakable thump of footsteps.

I turn around hurriedly and a loud gasp escapes my lips. Three tall, masked Dread Doctors were striding towards me, all equipped with the same long, black needle.

I opened my mouth to scream but just as I did, one of them raised their hand at me, stealing the breath out of my lungs.

My legs were frozen to the ground, whether through fear or something else, I didn’t have time to think as my knees gave out.

Pain exploded in my stomach but I nothing came out as I silently screamed. The Dread Doctors got closer, their footsteps thumping against my head and making my vision blur.

“Sleep now.” A voice scraped in my head and my eyes rolled back in my head as my back hit the floor.

My first thought when I woke up? “Damn, it’s cold in here.” My priorities are on point.

Even opening my eyes hurt as they fluttered open. White mist swirled around my face as the temperature in here was close to freezing.

I tried to sit up but thick leather belts tied me down to a table, just loose enough for me to breathe. Black liquid was dripping down my chin as it oozed from the corner of my mouth.

I groaned loudly, pain vibrating through me as I struggled to keep my eyes opened. I could hear shouting and yelling, despite no one being in the room.

“Y/N!” Liam’s frantic voice filled my head and I moaned again. “Something’s wrong.” Scott pitched in, his worry washing over me.

“Scott where’s my sister?” Stiles’ tearful voice made me gasp.

“Well look who’s up?” The same voice from before mocked and I inhaled sharply.

More heavy footsteps echoed round the room. I craned my neck and seen one Dread Doctor move steadily towards me.

I fought against the ropes but they held strong. I opened my mouth and the Dread Doctor suddenly held up its finger, flicking it from side to side.

Behind me cold, metal fingers slid around my jaw, yanking my neck to the side as a needle was stuck in. Pain clouded my vision as I let out a throat ripping scream.

“Y/N!” The three boys roared in my ears as my back arches off the table, my eyes bleeding black.

And then everything went dark.

Part 3????

anonymous asked:

What life advice would you bestow onto a teenager who is 18 years old (and who also wants to go into medicine)?


Hi, that’s quite a nice question :)

In terms of applications, my #ukmedschoolfaq tag is one long list of advice, but I have a feeling you mean advice in more general terms. Off the top of my post-nights head, here are a few bits of life advice that might be useful…

You are probably one of the ‘smart’ kids, and a large chunk of your sense of self worth may be tied into always doing well at school. But that can’t last forever. You will mess up. You will fail. Perhaps spectacularly. It’s OK; that’s actually part of life. The important thing is to remember that your results are not a reflection of your innate worth, but merely a snapshot in time of what you’ve proven you can achieve. If you don’t do well at some point in the future, remember that it doesn’t define you. It is perfectly possible to fail quite spectacularly then dust yourself off and excel afterwards. You can learn how to improve your study technique.

The studyblr aesthetic is a fine piece of performance art but it is not reality. Don’t feel like your notes have to be pretty, or look a certain way; you probably won’t even read them again. You don’t need expensive stationery, and nobody even needs to see your notes at all, if you don’t want them to. We all study differently, and as long as they are legible for you, then that is absolutely good enough. Don’t waste your study time on things that are impractical and time consuming. Intricate bullet journals or practically illuminated notes are absolutely beautiful but they are no more practical or productive than drawing a piece of fanart for enjoyment, and should not be treated differently. By all means you can embellish them in your free time if you derive enjoment from it, in the same way that I draw silly comics. There is real value to doing things which are not practical or which are purely for our enjoyment and artistic expression, but it is not in itself a particularly productive way to study. When you are getting down to serious studying, focus on whatever note/revision style clears your head, but also lets you go through the material at a reasonable place with decent retention. The exact way that works best will be different for everyone. But anything which slows you down or places more emphasis on how things look, than focusing on the content can potentially hamper studies.

To truly get the most out of your study/revision time, be honest with yourself; if anything distracts you then work out ways to decrease its effect or remove it. Pick neutral ‘background’ music to study to, and create a conducive work environment to study in, somewhere you can concentrate fully without unnecessary distractions, and without too much clutter. That can mean limiting internet or not always having your computer on, it can mean studying at home rather than noisy coffee shops, it could mean sticking to a few pens rather than wasting time distractingly working through a massive pencilcase etc. Medicine in particular is quite intense and involves lots of memorisation. Whilst I find that drawing/art/DT/English wasn’t affected by listening to music/watching things etc, for me science definitely requires a different type of focus. How you’ll work will be unique to you, but from an almost-perpetual student to someone who will follow in our shoes: don’t lie to yourself about what is working, and what isn’t.

On a related note, marks at university really aren’t the same as those at school; you go from getting 90+ percent to scraping 70% if you are lucky. It doesn’t mean you are getting dumber, the standards are just totally on a different level. By all means do as well as you reasonably can, but remember that burnout is insidious and will bite you in the longterm. And that  the person who passes their exams is a doctor at the end of the day. Focus on being a well-rounded one, not the kind of junior doctor who might be able to diagnose some rare condition they’ll never see, but can’t comfort a scared patient.

When you are in med school, don’t run off the wards to spend all your time in the library; it is on the wards that you’ll shadow doctors breaking bad news or become confident at basic procedures. You’ll have the time to sit down with patients and just talk; please do! You can learn so much about people, and the world from listening to others. And it’s a vital part of the service we provide, especially if you are a student. You probably can’t put in a central line or whip out their appendix, but you can make someone feel better just by listening for half an hour. Patients will patiently recount their history to you and  suffer your unsuccessful cannulation attempts; the least we can do for them is listen in return.

Also, it doesn’t matter which speciality you think you are going into, please spend time appreciating whatever you can about every speciality. Use those opportunities to learn things you would never otherwise learn, and do things you will never do again. Med school and training gives you a chance to do so many amazing things, never consider yourself above them because ‘it’s not my speciality’. Until you are on that training program, every speciality is your speciality.

On a related note; live! Keep up your hobbies, read lots of books and remain  active and engaged with what is going on around you. Read medical books, but read non-medical books too. There is more to understanding patients than pathology alone, and living life solely within the confines of medicine is dull. You are an amazing person with so many interesting parts of you that aren’t  the medical part. Nurture those parts too, or they will die. That includes friendships and family relationships. Yes, they will need to understand that you are busy, and it helps to have reasonable friends; no true friend will guilt you over having to put exam revision or on-calls first. But you will also have to make a conscious effort to timetable them into an increasingly busy life as you get older.

On a related note, Medicine is a demanding boss and could easily consume all your time and all your energy; don’t let it. You need to learn to switch off, and to realise that you’ve done what you can do for now. It’s easier said than done; I’ve woken up in a cold sweat having dreamed I overdosed a patient I’d seen that day, and it took a little racking my brain to clear up that it had in fact only been a dream. I hear this isn’t actually uncommon.

As a doctor you will be privileged to meet people across all spectrums, and you’ll learn the limitations of the system you work within, and the injustices people face. Educate yourself. Be a force for good. Be an advocate for those who have none. Try to, in every interaction with patients, embody the kind of doctor you would like for your loved ones. From the doctors you train under, learn two things; what you think a doctor should be, and what you think they shouldn’t be!

When I was your age, I had no idea I would get shouted at as a doctor. Here’s a heads up: people can be mean. Patients can be mean, nurses can be mean, other doctors can be mean. This is not your fault; there is no justification for that kind of behaviour. You may still get shouted at when you’ve not personally done anything wrong. And even if you did do something wrong, it remains a completely inappropriate response. As I suggested in my response to a recent ask, learning to see things from other people’s point of view can make dealing with it easier; when you can see why someone is that stressed, you can work out how to address their agenda and make it better. But sometimes people are just mean, and you need to remember that says much more about them than it does about you.

Medicine carries an increased risk of mental illness compared to the normal population. You’re already likely to be a bit of a perfectionist, caring person who overworks themselves. Add an intense degree, then long hours, seriously ill patients, high pressure to get things right, etc and you get an environment which often leads to stress, anxiety, depression and worsening any problems that were already there. Look after yourself; be honest with yourself and your university or employer if you need help. You don’t need to suffer alone, there is help available and I’ve seen what a difference it can make firsthand.  If medicine ever becomes something you hate to do, and you can no longer stand it, then leave. I promise, there are plenty of amazing things to do outside of medicine. No career is worth taking your own life, or living in a constant state of despair. Follow your happiness, wherever that may lead.

The only thing that keeps us able to do this job is the support of our friends and colleagues. Look after each other; you’re all in the trenches together. The nurses are your allies. Your fellow students (then fellow doctors) are your allies. Every single person around you is fighting a battle. Keep an eye on the quiet ones. Help anyone who is struggling or has too much on their plate. Ask people how they are. Give hugs and make tea. You will build lifelong friendships with the people you work with along the way. You will also become each others’ teachers. Share your experiences with each other. Rant, cry, ask them what they would have done with a particular case.

And lastly, pay it forward. We all benefit from our teachers, and in turn we teach the next generation. When you are in my shoes, take the junior docs, the students and the would-be students under your wing. Your voice will be irreplaceable, and your experiences will be useful.

Good luck :)

justauseronline  asked:

Pharmercy: rock-paper-scissors to resolve arguments? It's sucks you keep getting hate

(Canon universe, established PharMercy)

Angela stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, watching as Fareeha once again lifted a box full of her things. Moving in together had been discussed for a long while and they finally made the decision to do it when they had some spare time. But Mercy could only watch as Pharah continued to do everything by herself, insisting that she didn’t need the help. “Fareeha Amari, you take a break right damn now or so help me-”

“So help you, what?” The soldier hefted yet another box into her prosthetic arms. “I told you that I can move all of it. After all, this is my stuff.”

There was a pause before the doctor marched over, waiting until her girlfriend had put the box down. “All right. Rock-paper-scissors. I win, you take a break and let me help. You win, I let you keep going and I won’t say another word about making you take a break.” She held her palm out, other hand resting on it in a fist.

Fareeha blinked before grinning. “This is how we are going to settle our arguments? By playing rock-paper-scissors?” Her grin faltered slightly when Angela continued to look utterly serious. “All right, all right, let’s do this. Just be prepared to sit back and watch me finish moving my stuff in.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will happen,” Angela replied seriously, “because I will show you no mercy. Best of three.”

Round one: Angela.

She smirked triumphantly at the soldier who rolled her eyes. “Two more rounds, ya hayati.”

Round two: Fareeha.

“One for one,” Fareeha announced, grinning confidently again.

“One more,” Mercy responded curtly.

They stared at one another before declaring, “Rock-paper-scissors!”

Round three: Angela.

The doctor grinned proudly. “Told you I would have no mercy, mein Schatz.”

Fareeha rolled her eyes again, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah but it’s my stuff, habibti, you shouldn’t have to bother yourself with-” she paused when a finger lightly tapped her lips.

Angela smiled gently up at her. “We’re going to be living together, Fareeha. What is mine is yours. It is no longer just my space. It is ours and I want to help you. Now, come sit down for a little bit and then we can finish up.” She took Fareeha’s hand and gently led her to the couch where they sat together and sipped at hot tea. Quietly, Angela murmured, “I almost can’t believe this is actually happening.” When she received a curious look, she explained, “Us moving in together. Sharing a living space. Sharing my life with you, who respects and loves me as much as I respect and love you.” Her eyes fell to the steam rising from her tea. “I thought for a long time I wouldn’t find anyone who wouldn’t put me on a pedestal. You know, with so many people believing that ‘Mercy’ is some angelic, perfect woman.”

“Well,” the soldier began, “Mercy is basically perfect. Minus the fact that you only have a pea-shooter to defend yourself. But you’re not Mercy. Not really. You’re Angela; doctor, pacifist, smart but stubborn. And you can’t cook to save your life. Plus, you’re a workaholic who lives off coffee and ramen noodles. Honestly, if I wasn’t around to make you eat properly and get some sleep, you’d probably be dead.”

The doctor felt her cheeks burn slightly at the analysis. “Fick dich,” she muttered.

“Is that an offer?” Fareeha teased.

“Fareeha, stop it,” Angela giggled, reaching over to lightly push her shoulder. She giggled harder when her girlfriend leaned into her, pressing feather-light kisses to her cheeks. It turned into full-blown laughter when Fareeha began to tip over, playfully falling onto the doctor. “Fareeha, no, we’re both holding tea!”

when this world has hurt you (i will carry you home)

Blood. (thud) Pain. (crack) Weakness. (slam) Failure. (darkness) Alex. (alone)

Alex was the first one on scene. She shoved past all the techs reeling in horror and disbelief and dove right into the wreckage. She ripped up beams, tore at pieces of pavement; looking for anything-anything that proved that Kara had made it–that she was still alive somewhere. For hours, she scavenged and scoured, but in the end all she had was bloodied hands and dirty clothes. Kara was gone“kara, kara please if you can hear me–please give me something-anything–please k-kara i don’t know what to do please–”

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Bend it Like Beauchamp

You can all thank @andthencamemacdubh for this one. I’m also incredibly impressed with that title. I keep giggling.


“Jamie, dear. Can you come here for a moment?”

We had been married for almost six months. The passion hadn’t died down in the least. It might not have been the same intensity, but more of a slow simmer. We made love as often as we could, Jamie fully embracing his non-virginal state.

I still wasn’t sure how I’d done it, talking him into watching the pornographic film with me on our honeymoon. We’d mocked it the whole time, of course. But he’d asked me if I could bend the way the woman on the film had.

It had taken me all this time, stretching whenever I had a free moment. He didn’t know, of course. But I could now hold that particular pose for almost a full thirty minutes.

Jamie came into our room and stopped, staring at me open mouthed.

“Sassenach,” he said, already unbuttoning his shirt.

I was wearing a leopard print pair of bra and panties, trimmed in black lace. I’d gotten this set because the bra was a push up and the panties were, well… There wasn’t much to them, to be honest. It would give Jamie a nice framed view of the ass he so adored to fondle.

“Yes, my lad?”

“I was tryin’ to make ye dinner.”

“Dinner can wait. I have something I’d like to show you.”

He tossed his shirt into the laundry basket and began unbuckling his belt. As he did that, I kept my eyes locked with his. On the bed, I spread my legs out until I was sitting flat, my legs out to either side.

“Jesus God, Claire! Ye told me ye couldna!”

“I couldn’t when we were married. But I’ve been practicing.”

I bit back a laugh as his hands shook while he pushed his jeans down. He really had wanted this, but didn’t want to hurt me. I’d thought as much.

I turned my back to him and laid flat on my stomach, legs still spread as wide as they could physically go.

“And the wee thing ye’re wearin’! Are ye trying to give me a heart attack?”

I glanced over my  shoulder at him, wiggling my ass just a little.

“Well, if you do, you’ve got a trained doctor close at hand.”

“Ye’ll be the death of me.”

His hands were warm on my buttocks as he fondled me expertly. He moved the panties out of the way just enough to slide home. I grunted, I couldn’t help it, as he buried himself to the root.

“This position was the only one you asked about, when we watched that film.”

“Oooh… God, Claire. I didna think ye’d… Ye did this for me, didn’t ye?”

“Aye,” I said, giggling a little. “I did. I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“I… I canna… I canna be gentle about it. I can watch yer sweet round bum bouncin’ and…”

“It’s alright. Don’t hold back.”

The sound that came from him made me think of the film we’d watched about Highland warriors. He howled like a man going to war. It sang to my blood, set me on fire and made me answer him in the same tongue. Our room was filled with the sounds of our union as his fingers dug into my buttocks. 

Then his hands moved to my hips and he leaned over me. His thrusts became more wild and powerful. I hadn’t anticipated this when I’d done my stretching. There wasn’t really a way to prepare my body for the Scottish battering ram behind me.

He was yelling in Gaelic, completely lost to everything else in the world until he finished. I felt him shooting off deep within me.

“Sweet bleeding Jesus,” he heaved, his body slick and hot on top of mine. “Are ye alright, Claire?”

He sat up and moved off me. Yes. I’d pulled a muscle. I had no way of knowing if it was just strained or if I’d torn something. That required a doctor.

“Claire?”

“I think I pulled something.”

He swore in Gaelic and bustled around the room, dressing as quickly as he could.

“I’m so sorry, Sassenach. I shouldna have been so rough. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry. Just help me get dressed.”

He kept muttering to himself as he got me clothes to wear. Helping me into a pair of loose sweat pants and a comfortable shirt, he helped me out to the car. We drove to the emergency room, where I did regular rounds. I hoped one of the doctors I knew wasn’t on call tonight. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Fraser,” said a voice I knew too well.

My best friend at the hospital came into the room I’d been admitted to.

“Hello Joe.”

“What’s got you in here tonight?”

Jamie choked a little.

“I, uh… I had an accident. I might have pulled something, but I don’t know how bad it is.”

“Lets have a look.”

“No!” Jamie barked. “I’ll no’ allow you to-”

“Jamie,” I said. “Not an actual look. He’s just going to feel the muscle and see if it’s torn.”

He leaned back against the wall, watching Joe Abernathy closely.

After a few minutes of examination, Joe declared that I had a muscle strain, but nothing serious. He gave me a perscription for some muscle relaxers.

“Now, no strenuous activity for a few days, Dr. Fraser.”

“Thanks, Joe. I’ll try to be more careful on… Erm… The stairs.”

“Just make sure the stairs are more careful on you,” he said, eyeing Jamie with a smile.

I would never live this down.

"If you're not reading the subtext, then hell mend you."

That’s not the title I originally considered for this meta, but I think it’s the best place to begin. It’s a fairly noteworthy Steven Moffat quote with big implications that I wish to discuss in relation with Sherlock, and it’s a far easier starting point than chucking you, the reader, straight into the possibility I wish to discuss. So, deep breath, let’s get going below the readmore.

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