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I Promised to Look After You (fic)

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Title: I Promised to Look After You
Word Count: 681
Pairings/Characters: Nine, Nine/Rose (though Rose is nowhere to be seen), mentions of Jackie
Thanks to: A certain line at the end of World War Three for inspiration and Doctor Who (2005+) Transcripts for making my life much easier.
Summary: "What if she gets lost? What if something happens to you Doctor, and she's left all alone standing on some moon a million light years away?" Post World War Three.
Notes: This hasn't been betaed because no one else is awake and I didn't want to wait to post it. I don't own Doctor Who and anything you recognize isn't mine (the bit in italics and the dialogue at the end are from The End of the World, World War Three, and The Parting of the Ways and spoilers are up to that last one I guess).


He doesn't want to admit it–but something from the mouth of Jackie Tyler has gotten to him.Collapse )
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Title: "I Don't Even Like Orange Juice"
Word Count: 938
Pairings/Characters: Nine, Rose, (if you squint really really hard I suppose you might be able to find some Nine/Rose), Jack
Thanks to: the Basement for the inspiration for this (specifically Demily, Emily, Nathan, Rep, and Jynn)
Summary: Rose is in a bit of a tricky situation, and the Doctor is no help thanks to some...orange juice?
Notes: Crack. Inspired by a conversation with my friends about, you guessed it, orange juice. Also, it helps that I changed all of their names on skype to different incarnations of the Doctor.


"DOCTOOOOOOR!"Collapse )

And Here Lies a Teaser

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Then one of the voices from behind them spoke up.

“Would you look who it is?”


The blood in her veins turned ice cold, running its chill down her arms and spine, and her smile promptly evaporated. All of the sounds of the pub around her faded away until all she could hear was the thud of approaching footsteps. They stopped somewhere off to her left, but she didn't turn her head to look, hoping that somehow not looking would make him disappear, make this just a bad dream that she could tell herself she should be over by now.


“Rose Tyler. Long time, no see. Isn't that right, kitten?”


She kept her eyes fixed in front of her and tried in vain to get her heart to slow, feeling so incredibly vulnerable and helpless. This wasn't right. She had faced cybermen and werewolves and Daleks—she had watched the shattered fragments of the Earth burn and had seen the man who had shown her the wonders of the universe reborn in flames. This shouldn't scare her.

She tried to swallow the fear in her throat, and was relieved that she could at least keep her voice level. “Jimmy.”

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Imperfections of Atmosphere (fic)

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Title: Imperfections of Atmosphere
Word Count: 707
Pairings/Characters: Ten (though I suppose you could probably insert Nine or Eleven instead if you wanted to)
Thanks to: Jynn for the beta
Summary: The Doctor looks down on a planet with a burnt orange sky.
Notes: I haven't seen very much of the classic series, so some of the details are likely to be wrong because I got some of them from other people's fanfic and the TARDIS wiki. So please don't shoot me.


He can see it all below him.Collapse )
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Hello! I have not abandoned you, you pretty much nonexistent following (don't worry, I'm good at talking to myself)! I know, you were worried there for a bit, but I promise I'm still here. I just haven't really had stuff to say and am currently in the middle of writing stuff (note: the way I write stuff is weird, like I pretty much always have a bunch of document pages open and whenever I feel like writing I either continue something that I have up or start something new and there is stuff that I have had up for months). But now, I have a thing to say!

So, I have made a tumblr specifically for my fanfiction. *nod* Now when I say this, I think that it is important to note that it is a bit sickly, probably prone to requiring life support, and may frequently end up in insane time travelling comas. But still, I hope that it doesn't die and stuff.

It is skiesturndark! What I want to do over there is probably post links to my fanfiction (I'm a bit iffy on actually posting it over there just because of the nature of tumblr and reblogging) and talk a bit more about stuff I'm working on and maybe post stuff relating to my fanfiction (other people's fanfiction too maybe? *shrugs*). And I have this idea that maybe I could write short stuff for it and post prompts and get prompts and things. So yeah. I think you should follow it.

(Also I'm sorry that I'm so bad at talking but I don't know how to talk so I just talk and things like this come out I'm better at writing I promise you.)

(Also just in case you're interested my normal tumblr is sideranobis and is basically just Doctor Who and if you happen to look at it or follow it or something then you should maybe let me know.)

So yep. As bad as I am at talking I'm even worse at ending it. So..............................bye. *runs away*

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bad wolf rose
Hello. This is a post about flailing.

So, um, I'll just go ahead and just tell everyone right now. I'm predisposed to automatically reply to some things with flailing. I mean, sometimes I'll be reading really nice fanfiction and really nice stuff will happen and I will actually sit by my computer and physically (along with mentally) flail. And that's great, and I really don't care to stop doing that. But, another thing that makes me flail is attention. I don't mean like, people just stare at me and I start flailing (well, actually I probably would, though it would probably involve even more awkwardness and nervousness and such). But when people show some kind of interest in something that I've done or said or made, these words and thoughts and sometimes even some hopes and dreams that I've strung together to try to make something even semi-coherent that I can share with some part of the world, however small it may be, when someone has read it, or even just glanced over it, that just.... I know how hard it is to get attention sometimes. There is no law to the universe that says that people have to care about what I have to say, and I'm used to shouting at the selectively deaf, uncaring sea that is cyberspace with my fist raised to the sky. And I forget that sometimes, just sometimes there are other people who are railing at the sea too. And cyberspace might be vast and dark and cold so much of the time to this girl who thinks she has something worthwhile to say, but there are stars out there, and sometimes they share their light.

And you know, maybe I'm just a bit too fond of metaphor. Maybe I get way too excited when someone decides that my thoughts are worth some of their own. Maybe I shouldn't let my brain turn into a giant ball of "OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOSH OH MY GOODNESS WHAT DO I DO I'M JUST FLAILING CAUSE WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO OH MY GOODNESS" every time I get excited over every one of these little things like page view numbers and comments and reviews (and getting third place on Then There's Us OH MY GOSH OH MY GOODNESS I DO NOT IT DOES NOT COMPUTE I JUST WHAT MY BRAIN DOES NOT UNDERSTAND HDJSKALVBDSAJKGBDSAJLKH DUGGAN SMASH). You know, maybe I shouldn't. But I still do, and I don't think I really want to stop, because really, it seems like that might be when it gets boring.

But just so you know, if you get a reply to a comment from me or something, then I've probably toned down the flailing for the purposes of not scaring you off with my sheer gbhdjslbdjlkgdf-ness. And if I don't reply, there's a good chance it's because I was so busy flailing and freaking out and going "OH MY GOSH WHAT DO I SAY I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO" that I put off replying and forgot (basically, if I do this to you, you have full permission to bug me about replying, no matter how late it is that I am) (that is unless you're spam in which case I'll drag out the Closet Cyberman so he can DELETE YOUR SPAM SPAM IS INFERIOR AND NON-UPGRADABLE DELETE DELETE) (hey see what I did there I just referenced two different songs ah ha so there) (A Bit of a Drag and Hidden in the Closet, both from The Next Doctor, if you're interested). And basically the point of this is that I'm not cool. You're not going to find me wearing "cool" sunglasses and leaning against the door frame like I'm the coolest person around, 'cause I'm not, not by the shot you could get using one of those nifty Native American spear-throwers (which is really quite far actually), and I'm not even going to try to be. I'm happy occasionally being a big ball of brain-mush-flailing.

So I'm going to try not to scare you guys off (that is if I haven't yet) by flailing right in your faces. And if you're reading this, if you just read anything that I have to say, if you decide to share some of your own thoughts for mine, then just thank you. Thank you, you wonderful people, for gifting me with your time and your thoughts. I'll try not to waste them.

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Neverland (fic)

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Title: Neverland
Word Count: 765
Pairings/Characters: Eleven/spoilers (that is to say, if I name the characters it'll be spoilery, not that the spoilers are part of the pairing)
Thanks to: Neon, Emily, Emily, Jynn, and also to you, wonderful reader. Dedicated to Jynn for the idea that made this what it is.
Summary: A sort of Peter Pan crossover. “Stolen away in the middle of the night by a mysterious boy who promises to fly her off to Neverland? You're Peter, I'm Wendy.”
Notes: Takes place in an invisible to canon time sometime after Amy and Rory and River are gone. Hope you like it.


They keep rubbing it in his face.Collapse )

Hello there!

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You know, after spending however long (several months, actually) lurking in the dark, shadowy alleys and inconspicuous street corners of the wonderful and metaphorical (also magical) city (or, well, you could use a different metaphor but i already started with the city, so) that is Doctor Who fanfiction. So now here I am, with my own LiveJournal and everything (also an account on A Teaspoon and an Open Mind which will be linked here)! Exclamation mark! Excitement! Yay!

And now to the part where I introduce myself (looking back at this paragraph it's a bit of a shifty mess so....you have been warned). If this bores you, go ahead and skip straight to the fanfiction. Don't worry, I won't be offended that you skipped the obligatory rambly about-myself in favor of the pain, happiness, adventure, fob watches, heartache, and whatever else I just so happen to put the Doctor and co. through. That is, after all, essentially why I'm here, though I also might end up talking about other mostly related things (other people's fanfiction, my fanfiction, Doctor Who itself, various other musings, etc.) as I see fit (or under more accurate phrasing, feel like it). But anyway, I'm Claire. Hi! Nice to meet you! *waves fingers* I like stuff, and I can never seem to think of anything to list in these bits, so I'll leave that for when it comes up (or you can just ask me, that works too). Oh! I do like feedback, and also I like getting excited about stuff, which seems rather fitting as I do that quite a bit. And as long as you don't start to be seriously, genuinely creeperly, I'd love to talk to you, whoever you are, 'cause you know, I love people and I think they're brilliant (that includes you, crazy person reading this) (or maybe not crazy, sorry I just assumed 'cause you're still reading this rambly mess and stuff so yeah).

 But anyway, I'm here because I fell in love with what people do with this, how they can take this base story and add their own onto it, and how even though all of these stories are as different as the people who wrote them, they're all still interconnected, and therefore, the people are too. I saw it, and well, I want to get in on it too. I want to try to write stories that might be beautiful and throught-provoking and fun and just something that can connect to you, and something that you, person who is reading this, may possibly love yourself. I want to have fun with this, and I'd be honored if you'd join me.

So when it comes down to it, I'm Claire, it's great to meet you, wonderful person, and I bet that this whole thing is going to be fantastic.