#i am humanizing victorian!clara

[soulless-angel25]

New Who fic idea: Victorian Clara is no stranger to throwing buckets of water over the drunks in the alley behind the tavern in order to wake them up from their drunken comas and move them along home for the night. Then one day, she empties a bucket of water over a certain American immortal having to wait through time for the TARDIS to arrive once more following his recent resurrection.

[Ohhhh, Anon I love you <3 I never get to write Victorian Clara! And adding in Cpt. Jack? You are a person after my own heart you are. It turned out more angsty then I expected but... that's how it goes somedays.] AO3 Link!

Clara was more than used to having to deal with the drunks outside the tavern, the ones who have just stumbled out into the streets after wasting all their money on cheap alcohol. The ones who sank against the outside walls moaning in their own misery, the ones who would try to get ladies to come home with them (herself included). She was also used to the ones who would end up in the alley behind the tavern.

For those ones she was often told to fill a bucket with water from the spicket and pour it over their heads. Then she would help them help, maybe hail a carriage if she could and get the person home. Of course it was a tad more annoying on the nights when she had to go and be a governess.

Shaking her head and sighing Clara brought herself out of her thoughts. She hauled the bucket back up from her slipping grip and used her hip to open the door. She looked down at the man who was leaning against the wall, not quite asleep but getting close. Clara could admit that he was a handsome man, with messy brown hair that had streaks of blonde running through, near invisible. A long pair of black trousers and high-laced brown boots. A partial shirt with a pair of strings at the top to pull the shirt closed and a long coat.

Rolling her eyes she upended the bucket over his head. Sputtering and gasping sounds came from the man as he shot up like a bullet. Clara's hand settled on her hip as the other fell to her side with the bucket -now emptied- dangling.

"You sober enough to get yourself home?" the question was asked in her usual cadence, meaning she sounded like she cared just enough.

-

When Jack's eyes opened it was from the startling cold he felt over his head. How was he- right. He couldn't stay dead, it always took a moment for his brain to remember that. How funny he died from too much alcohol this time, not even good alcohol.

His brain flickered back to when he'd been with Him and Rose. They'd gone out for drinks one night ("No ginger, Time Lords can't have ginger Jack") on some planet ("Oh... Jack! Doctor! Look at the sky, you can see so much..."). Just the three of them, dancing soaring through time and space on the TARIDS.

"-self home?"

The end of the sentence filtered through his brain, and though he probably would've been able to piece together what the woman had said his mouth was faster then his brain, "What?"

She rolled her eyes, a fake smile plastered on as she spoke again- he noticed an empty bucket at her side, was that where the cold water had come from?- slowly. To make sure he would understand, she probably thought he was too wasted, which was a fair assumption.

"Are ya sober 'nough to get yourself home?"

Jack's voice was soft when he spoke. "Don't got no home anymore. Home's gone." Home's gone. Those words didn't even properly convey what it meant. Home was gone, he never knew if it was coming back. He never knew if He was coming back, never knew if he'd get to wrap his arms around Rosie again and hear her laughter.

He could feel his mind drifting, going back to that day. When he'd last seen them ("I was better a coward."), when he'd last touched them. Tears falling from Rose's eyes.

Jack's head snapped back to reality when he realized that the woman -had she said her name?- was awkwardly clearing her throat. Expecting an answer to whatever question she had asked. Sighing she repeated herself.

"You have an inn your staying at?"

detach yourself Jack, you aren't there. "Nah, no inn currently. Was gonna find someplace though." detachdetachdetach

The woman -should he ask her name?- shakes her head, "'right. C'mon," and she leans down to make sure he stands straight up and won't collapse. "There should be a few rooms open at this place down the road, I know the owner and she owes me so if there isn't room available she'll make some."

Slightly dazed he nods along, feet tripping underneath him as the woman brings him along. Eventually his legs get working and she isn't so much dragging him anymore rather than being a support. When they walk through the door Jack doesn't catch the name of this place.

"Rubes! You here?" her voice is loud and nearly gets drowned out in the noise of the inn, with people having late dinners or just talking with others.

Despite this a lady, maybe 20, bustles through. A smile breaking out on her face when she spots the woman, "Clara!"

For a moment when he sees the woman he's taken aback, she looks like Rose. But then he shakes his head and takes in a breath, no- she doesn't. They might have the same hair color, eye color, and.... but no. She looks similar to Clara -that's what she'd called the woman-, their faces near identical. Probably related.

'Rubes' eyes look over at him in surprise, like she didn't realize he was there. She breathes in before speaking, "Hello! Welcome to BW inn, that stands for Bad Wolf by the way. Though you probably saw that on the sign.. Anyway- I'm Ruby Sunday, my family owns this inn."

"Rubes, I need you to get him a room for the night. If you can't, find a way. I'll owe you- ta!" and with that she vanished out the door in a hurry.

Ruby shook her head but brought him over to the counter to grab a key for him.

---

[I hope you liked it! This ended up being more Jack-centric then Clara-centric than I meant for it to. It was just a lot easier to get into Jack's head for some reason.]

[mayhemchicken-varneyposting]

itching for good comparative literature posting between varney and dracula

You've come to the right place, my friend.

The Corn Will Never Ripen: Contrasting Themes of Fear, Knowledge, and Secret-Keeping in Dracula and Varney the Vampire

"It was the doubt as to the reality of the whole thing that knocked me over. I felt impotent, and in the dark, and distrustful. But, now that I know, I am not afraid, even of the Count."

-- Jonathan Harker, Dracula

"...but at all events one thing is evident, that the parson thought it good sound policy, and it was, to endeavour to nip the thing in the head, and by ascribing it to a dream, put it down as a subject of speculation in the place."

-- Varney the Vampire

(Spoilers ahead for both books)

Fear is a powerful force in Dracula. Count Dracula wields fear as a weapon, using it as an iron hammer to flatten the peasants who live in his shadow or a knife to twist in the hearts of his victims. He delights in terror and the suffering that comes from it, and uses fear as a tool to manipulate people and to turn them against one another. In Dracula, the antidote to fear is knowledge: Jonathan Harker is rejuvenated by Van Helsing's confirmation that his experiences were real, Van Helsing's study of folklore provides the key tools needed to defeat their vampiric foe, and Mina Harker's compilation of journals, articles, letters, and other documents detailing the nature and movements of the Count proves, ultimately, to be the crucial weapon in the fight against Dracula.

Fear, too, is a powerful force in Varney the Vampire. Sir Francis Varney also wields fear to his advantage; however, it quickly proves to be volatile beyond his control, and he finds himself repeatedly harried and pursued by the mobs his presence has whipped up. The fears of the populace are an engine of destruction that churns up everything in its path, desecrating corpses, burning buildings, and on one occasion even murdering a man on the suspicion that he might be a vampire. In Varney the Vampire, the proposed antidote to fear is ignorance, as knowledge of the truth only breeds and increases the destructive power of fear; however, try as they may, the protagonists almost never succeed in concealing the truth from the people who would hurt or be hurt by its knowledge. Flora and Clara do not believe the doctors who tell them their horrible experiences are a mere dream, Flora and George independently arrive at the idea of vampires despite attempts from the others to keep them in the dark, and ultimately no one is ever able to prevent the formation of the book's most formidable villain, The Mob.

Much ink has been spilled about the way that Dracula reflects the many anxieties of the Victorian era; and certainly, fear is omnipresent in its pages. Yet the novel Dracula is not afraid of the dark, placing a much greater focus on the power of love and kindness, the importance of communication, and ultimately the triumph of good over evil. From the compassion of Romanian peasants and Hungarian nuns to the strong bonds of friendship shared between the main cast, Dracula brims over with optimism and hope for humanity, despite the inescapable prejudices of the text.

By contrast, the outlook of Varney the Vampire is bleak. Futility is a recurring theme, from the cartoonish bumbling of the main characters to the tragic character of Varney himself, trapped in an endless cycle of death and undeath. The lesson of Varney is that it is the duty of the enlightened intellectual to shield the frail minds of his lessers from truths which are too horrible for them to bear. Confronted by evidence of vampires, the woman and the emotional man will succumb to horror and despair, while the uneducated peasantry will quickly exaggerate the truth by way of rumor and gossip, eventually turning to mindless and destructive mob violence. Clearly, neither of these things are desirable to Rymer's imagined intellectual; yet the message of the text, over and over again, is that protecting these "lesser minds" is a task doomed to failure. Try as you might, you cannot keep the vampire out of peoples' heads, and the intellectual man is doomed to have his reasoned arguments drowned out by the riotous outcries of the mob.

It is impossible to separate Varney the Vampire's views on fear and knowledge from the author's sexism and classism. While Bram Stoker hammers in the lesson to his protagonists that ignorance benefits no one with the climactic attack of October 3rd, James Malcolm Rymer strongly holds that knowledge of the truth ought to be the domain of educated men and no one else. Women must be kept in the dark. The poor and uneducated must be kept in the dark. Men who are too emotional, and thus feminine, must be kept in the dark. None but the most manly and educated intellectuals are equipped to handle the truth of vampires, even when that truth far more directly concerns the very people that are being excluded from knowledge of it. Lying and gaslighting are acceptable and even virtuous when put to this purpose.

Some of this patriarchal attitude is present in Dracula, especially as regards the treatment of Lucy and her mother, but Bram Stoker appears to be mostly against the concept, as his heroes pay dearly for it with Mina later. Though his handling of it falls rather short of 21st century standards, Stoker attempts to show the value in cooperation between people of all kinds. The Romanian peasants do all they can to protect Jonathan Harker from Dracula; the nuns in Budapest take him in and care for him; Van Helsing and Quincey, both (admittedly Western) foreigners, are essential members of the effort to defeat Dracula; Renfield has a heroic turn after being shown kindness by Mina, and dies fighting Dracula with his bare hands; Mina, a woman, leads the team and plays a crucial role in Dracula's defeat. Even with Victorian prejudice rearing its ugly head, often glaringly, throughout the text, the contrast between Stoker's worldview and Rymer's is stark.

As a final note, I'd like to compare the portrayal of gender and emotion in Dracula and Varney the Vampire. Emotion in the Victorian era, as I've alluded to elsewhere in this post, was gendered. More specifically, emotion was feminine. Men were expected to control their emotions; women, being seen as weaker, were not given the same expectations of stoicism, although it was still considered impolite for a woman to display strong emotions in public. (This is what the drawing room, actually a withdrawing room, was for.) With this in mind...

Wow, the characters in Dracula cry a lot. Jonathan cries in despair during his captivity, Arthur will cry on anyone's shoulder, Van Helsing has his King Laugh moment, and even the normally stoic Seward breaks down into his phonograph at one point. Fear and trauma are not belittled, and grief is allowed room to breathe. Alongside all this emotion, we see the strict gender roles of Victorian society broken down in other ways too. Jonathan takes comfort in femininity during his confinement in Castle Dracula, imagining himself in the position of medieval ladies writing letters and comparing himself to Scheherazade; later, he holds onto Mina's arm while they walk, the opposite of Victorian custom. Mina studies shorthand and practices her typing in anticipation of working alongside Jonathan, crossing the strict male/female division of Victorian society between the working and domestic spheres. Van Helsing describes her as having "a woman's heart and a man's brain", and after learning his lesson about patriarchal sexism and keeping secrets, follows her lead in the hunt for Dracula. Stoker yearns for a kinder and less regimented world than the one he lives in, and in Dracula he writes that world.

Rymer, on the other hand, fears the degradation of the regimented world, and writes in Varney a cautionary tale of the dangers of Too Much Emotion, demonstrated most starkly in the final vignette of his sprawling epic. When Clara Crofton is murdered by Varney, her father is deeply affected by grief at losing his daughter; and though other characters, chiefly Flagship Manly Intellectual Dr. North, attempt to chastise him out of expressing that grief, they ultimately fail and he is driven to madness. Clara's fiance, Ringwood, is also stricken by the loss. When he discovers Clara has risen as a vampire, he chases after her, begging to join her in undeath; but while this sentiment in Dracula is portrayed as the ultimate expression of love and devotion, in Varney it is portrayed as silly and irrational, and Ringwood, too, ultimately faces material consequences for his emotional outburst: he is attacked by Varney and knocked unconscious.

In Dracula, emotional connection and communication are embraced, and the bonds forged by this type of connection are instrumental to overcoming fear and defeating evil. In Varney the Vampire, grief is dangerous, love is foolish, and fear is a greater and more pervasive evil than any monster that lurks in the shadows.

[alexsfictionaddiction]

Review: High Vaultage by Chris and Jen Sugden

I am not a big sci-fi reader but I do really enjoy funny sci-fi. Douglas Adams, Becky Chambers and Red Dwarf never fail to make me laugh, so I was excited to dive into a new kooky, tongue-in-cheek sci-fi and I was even more intrigued when I learned about the added mystery element. Thank you to the lovely people at Gollancz for allowing me to be a part of the blog tour.

In Even Greater London, the Tower powers every intricate mechanism while engineers demolish and rebuild whatever they want to. In an alternate 1887, Even Greater London is also the home of Fleet-Entwhistle Private Investigations, made up of veteran, semi-retired (sort of) police inspector Archibald Fleet and the tenacious journalist Clara Entwhistle. When the police are stumped by a series of bank robberies, a kidnapping isn't really something that they have time to investigate. This is the perfect crime for the Fleet-Entwhistle collaboration to finally show everyone what they can do.

In Even Greater London, healthcare basically consists of replacing faulty body parts with machinery. This means that humans with mechanical parts are extremely common and in fact, Queen Victoria is one of them. This steampunky element to the book conjured up such a silly, fun atmosphere and I loved how we occasionally got reminders that several characters in the story were not exactly flesh and blood.

I found it hilarious that even in a London that is seemingly so different to the one that we know, etiquette still dictates that eye contact with strangers must be avoided. Some things are so ingrained that they can never be erased, no matter how many madcap ideas you throw at it.

The language, dialogue and humour is also wonderfully British and while as a Brit, I adore this, I'm always wary that it might not translate well to other cultures. In short, British humour is satire of often very trivial matters and it is perhaps not for everyone. It is definitely for me though!

Clara was definitely my favourite character and I felt like a fangirl following her favourite superhero around this crazy city, which I definitely got lost in multiple times. In fact, my biggest criticism of the book was the complex setting. I struggled to picture Even Greater London as it almost certainly was supposed to look because I couldn't get my head around the mechanics and landscape. Perhaps it doesn't matter and the city can look however you want it to look but I can't help feeling that I was missing out on becoming fully immersed in the setting.

High Vaultage is a fast-paced, intriguing mystery with some really interesting, unique steampunk influences. If you love a Victorian mystery with automatons, ridiculousness and constant innovation, it's a must read for you.

[duckbreadsstuff]

I'm just doing this on my alternate account I never use just to say something without having it on my main account bc I don't want them to see it

I am so deeply in love platonically with a friend of mine. Like, I DID have a crush on them at one point, but they're aro ace, so, ya know, whatcha gonna do? But, like, after I got over the crush, I just fell head over heels for them as a friend. I love the way they do a little dance and bob their head when they're excited to talk about something. I love their giggle laugh, I love their cackle laugh and the way they widen their eyes in a manic expression when they're causing mischief. I love their drawings of bugs and mushrooms and indescribable horrors that would make a Victorian child cry in fear. I love their smile and their sounds of disappointment when they learn that a friend of yours has no idea how to blend colors properly and they spend the entire lunch period trying to teach them. God they're just amazing.

I'm in college now, they're taking a gap year and they had to move to a different state. We don't call each other and I don't talk to them for weeks. I miss them so much. Sometimes when we text it's slow and awkward but I cherish all of it.

I need to emphasize how much I love them platonically. I don't feel butterflies or blush when I'm around them like I did when I had a crush. I just felt safe and happy. My day instantly grew brighter when they were there. They're absolutely obsessed over the 12th(?) doctor and Clara right now and they asked me if they can send me compilations of them together and I said yes and I can feel their obsession through the screen and I felt like I was instantly back at their side in the art class we spent lunch in. I feel their smile. They gave me a journal as a graduation present and they told me in the journal's first page how much I changed their life and how they're a phone call away. In random pages they drew bugs and fish and a kiwi bird and mushrooms and ghosts and I refuse to touch those pages in fear of messing them up. On one of the last pages they wrote I love you on the back and how much of a great human being I am and I cried so hard because they're the amazing one. How the fuck did I manage to become friends with someone like them? How they fuck did I earn their praise? Why am I so lucky? I worry still sometimes that maybe I was too clingy, too by their side, too anything really and that their words are just whatever they could think up to make me feel like they cared whenever they didn't, but looking at those words just makes me feel so happy that I don't give a fuck what the intrusive thoughts are saying.

They gave me a squishmellow bison which I named Hank because they texted me once high off DayQuil and said Hanks instead of Thanks whenever I told them what went on in school the day they were gone. I can't sleep without Hank now. They gave me a bracelet that was orange and blue and green because they asked me my favorite color and I said blue but then I said what if I have multiple favorite colors as a joke and they said they could do that too and they added orange bc orange is their favorite color. Whenever they gave me it I joked that it was the colors of the mystery van in Scooby doo. I lost that bracelet 3 months after they gave it to me and I've been torturing myself over it, so I hold Hank tighter just in case.

One day we'll stop texting and we'll move on with our lives and maybe I'll forget them and all they did for me, but god I hope not. I hope that of all the selfish things I ask of this world on a daily basis, that I remember at least a small part of them. I hope that I gave them at least .0000000001% of the happiness they gave me.

They're sending me compilations of the doctor and Clara right now and they told me they won't stop until they fall asleep. It is 12:49 AM right now and I couldn't be happier

One day I want to fall in love romantically with someone and spend my life with them, but this platonic love I feel for my friend is in no way weaker or lesser than the romantic love that everyone raves and hollers about on a daily basis. Being friends with them is one of the best feelings I've ever felt in my entire life. Just because the love is different doesn't mean it isn't love and doesn't mean it's inferior. I love my friend so much. I hope they sleep well.

[bug-catcher-in-viridian-forest]

BBC SHERLOCK

I figured out people on mobile can’t see my pages and so cannot access my bbc sherlock meta, ergo a post.

META

 ► UMQRA

UMQRA = TORCH

UMQRA = TORCH - Just ONE (+ London Spy)

UMQRA = TORCH - See no more (+ Doctor Who)

What would it sound like if “UMQRA” was replaced with “TORCH”?

UMQRA = TORCH = LOVE, substitutions in the dialogue

UMQRA - Masterpost

UMQRA - Ciphers 1/2

UMQRA - Ciphers 2/2

 ► IOU

I O U = 2 + YOU

I O U = IT IS JOHN

I O U - Masterpost

 ► SHORTHAND

Does John Watson take shorthand notes? (+ ACD Canon)

The Foreman’s Shorthand - Masterpost

The Foreman’s Shorthand - Lines: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, Above the 1st

Was the foreman already under threat in the “Shorthand scene”? Is the foreman a Sherlock fan?

Does “You or Me?” mean “John or James?”

YOU = JOHN and ME = MORIARTY in the dialogue

 ► NUMBERS

57 and 207 as 007

57even Moffat (+ Doctor Who)

57 as a reference to “The Man Who Was Wanted”

57 STARS + 1 JOHN  (+ Doctor Who, + London Spy)

From 57 to 1 (+ London Spy)

Operation 57 (+ Doctor Who)

A 57 in the licence plate

A 57 in a telephone number

57 and inverted 1895 in webpage

A 189- in the dialogue

11 is a pair of 1s

The Other One/Oswin/Osgood and replacing the Other One.

Up to 11

747

125 = ABE

The Other 1058 theory

44 = M

2,11 and 4

178H could be 1780 Herschel

Sonnet 14 and STARS (+ Doctor Who)

197 TPH = 1970, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes

 ► RELIGIOUS REFERENCES

Jesus had a blogger called John

 ► ACD CANON REFERENCES

XXX as the sign of the three

 ► HIDDEN MEANINGS

Cupid, lions and Omnia Vincit Amor

The Blind Banker: hic sunt leones

Corporal Lyons’ Insignias of Love

The moon is a shark

Who’s who in the Solar System metaphor?

The Moon Lamp and the Sun decoration

Sherlock, his evil twin and the moon magnifying glass

The white bear problem

Hidden Williams in surnames

Hidden Will in The Great Game

WELL I AM = WILLIAM

MISS M(ary) E(lizabeth)?

MAID M(ary) E(lizabeth)

Shooting and missing

Does the violin miss MI?

Miss me? = Kiss me?

A cock ring

Metaphorical trash = Sherlock and John

Red Bird, Ginger Bread, Red Bride and Ruby Bread = Red Beard

Janine = M-Aggie?

Punch de la Lune

I, the Information Point

Cow = Character A and the A Frame

Human red signal

221 Bring It = 221B Ring It

Sherlock’s high on pot (lost link)

BBC LOCKED

What are you, Mikipedia?

Mycroft as a Weeping Angel

 ► EASTER EGGS

Give James Dancing Lessons

Easter eggs in John’s newspaper

Sharl-like pots in Magnussen’s office

Sherlock and John at falls in Doctor Who

YOU + TORCHWOOD easter eggs

 ► GENDER AND SEXUALITY

Sir William Gay

Rainbow letters in the trailer (lost link)

Bi The Way

John leaves a rainbow trail.

Bisexual pride scarf for Watson

Human bi flag

The Bi Ball

Alex & Ajay = A lesbian & A gay

 ► PREDICTIONS

Whodunit tricks, Janine’s reaction to marriage proposal and everyone’s reactions to the “Did you miss me?” video

Is Mary responsible for the “Did you miss me video?”

Lady in Red as The Evil Queen?

Is John is the treasure of the game?

Mary = The Other One - Masterpost

Has Sherlock got a sister called Elizabeth? Is she Mary?

“Miss Me?” as Sherlock’s sister theme

Is Mary responsible for the “Did you miss me video?”

Is Lady Smallwood the Other One’s mother? Or is she Mary’s mother? (lost link)

Did the Other One drown?

Is The Abominable Bride a lot about the Other One?

Mary as the Other One, s4 additions

Mary and the Black Pearl

MISS M(oriarty) E(lizabeth)?

 ► CHARACTERS

Now, Clara. Who’s Clara? (+ Doctor Who)

Sholto and Dimmock as a mirror for John and Sherlock

Why is the bride called Emelia?

Rory Arthur Williams comes from Moriarty and Sherlock

Hey! The flirting villain!

 ► PARALLELS: TALES AND FAIRY TALES

Fairy tales - Masterpost

Sherlock as the White Swan and the Ugly Duckling

Mary and Bonnie as the Black Swans (+ Doctor Who)

Sherlock vs The Swan Princess

Sherlock as Sleeping Beauty

Rosemund Watson as Sleeping Beauty

The Lying Detective as The Sleeping Beauty

Sherlock as Snow White and True Love’s Kiss (+ Once Upon A Time)

Sherlock as Pinocchio

Mary as the Blind Witch

Alice in Wonderland tea cup and Mrs. Hudson as the Mad Hatter

Mycroft as the Little Mermaid

Sherlock and Clara as Jack and the Beanstalk (+ Doctor Who)

Magnussen as Cruella De Vil

Mary As Robin Hood

The Holmeses have sorcerer’s hats

John as Brünnhilde

Episode speculation: The Yellow Trace and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz parallels  

Episode speculation: The Dancing Man and Cinderella parallels

Episode speculation: The Second Star and Peter Pan parallels

The Abominable Bride vs Frozen

Eurus as the Snow Queen

 ► PARALLELS: TV SERIES

Sherlock vs Xena: Warrior Princess - The Abominable Bride vs The Bitter Suite?

Sherlock vs Xena: Warrior Princess - The Unaired Pilot vs The Greater Good

Sherlock vs Xena: Warrior Princess - A Study in Pink vs The Royal Couple of Thieves

Sherlock vs Xena: Warrior Princess - Series 3 / 4 vs A Cradle of Hope

Sherlock vs Xena: Warrior Princess - The Abominable Bride vs The Dirty Half Dozen

Sherlock vs Xena: Warrior Princess - The Six Thatcher vs Maternal Instincts

Sherlock vs Xena: Warrior Princess - Magnussen vs Ming T’ien

Dialogue comparison: high-functioning sociopath

Offensive: an Implication of impropriety (+ Doctor Who)

Dealing with falls = Changing the future = Marriage (+ Doctor Who)

The Lying Detective vs Blink

 ► PARALLELS: MOVIES

Sherlock vs The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes - Emile the husband, Emelia the wife

Sherlock vs Rebecca - His Last Vow vs Rebecca

Sherlock vs The Birds - The Hounds of Baskerville vs The Birds

Sherlock vs The Matrix Trilogy

Sherlock vs Dellamorte Dellamore

Sherlock vs James Bond - A Scandal In Belgravia vs Casino Royale (2006)

His Last Vow vs Un Dollaro Bucato?

 ► PARALLELS: ANIME AND MANGA

Haruhi Suzumiya: a reinterpretation of Sherlock Holmes as a schoolgirl with supernatural powers? (+ ACD canon, + Haruhi Suzumiya)

► PARALLELS: BOOKS

The Naked Sun vs The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes vs A Scandal In Belgravia

 ► LOVE AND SEX TROPES

The phone is a handkerchief

A visual metaphor for a wedding

Cupid in the titles

Visual love triangle

Between My Legs frame

Finishing each other’s sentences

“We” as romantic coding

Sherlock shooting at the Yellow Face as fellatio innuendo

 ► CARD AND BOARD GAMES

A Pen Holder with Spades

Graffiti identification: an Ace of Spades?

 ► COSTUMES

Sherlock’s locks might be inspired by Mr. Darcy’s (+ Pride and Prejudice 1995)

Sherlock likes John in a green coat

How to build a Sherlock

► OTHER S4 MIXED METAS

She = Sherlock

Save John Watson = save your love

Eurus = Trapped Woman in The Elegible Bachelor

The Abominable Bride vs Kill Bill: the Death List

To go

Odd eyes = Pirate eyepatches

YOU = EU(RUS)

John = Yellow Face again

2 heads with AGRA got smashed

Gabrielle Ashdown = Gabrielle Valladon

REFERENCES

Timeline of 57′s mentions in Moffat’s work

GIFSETS

UMQRA = TORCH gifsets: x x x

Gifset: BC Sherlock cameos in My Little Pony: modern version

Gifset: BBC Sherlock cameos in My Little Pony: Victorian version

Sherlock as Snow White and True Love’s Kiss

Sherlock vs The Matrix Trilogy gifsets: x x x x x

Pride flags gifsets: TAB

Gay! I mean… Hey.

Gifset: My wordplay theories

FANVIDEOS

► ALTERNATIVE OPENINGS

Sherlock’s opening remade like Xena: Warrior Princess’

FANART

► POKEMON AU

BBC Sherlcok Modern Pokéverse

Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson in The Abominable Gardevoir

[sushigal007]

The Snowmen! I have been at the pub all evening for carols and mulled wine and mince pies and I am not entorely sober so spelling will be super fun.

Sner! Angry snerflakes. Victorian aesthetic again YES. Child does not like other children and his snowman agrees. Somehow this is not ebcause I am drunk. Child but older, still angry snowmens.

Oh, the subtitles are a spoiler, glad I didn't have them on in 2012.

Dr Simeon is feeding the poors to the snow.

Clara works at the Rose and Crown! There is a snowman outside her pub. Eleven walks past in a right pissy mood and tells her it wasn't him. It just appeared. She starts to follow him, but he's not interested. Sooo she does a runner after him.

Inside his Strax-drawn carriage, Vastra chats to him from a Victorian intercom, which is when Clara spokes her head through the roof and asks Doctor Who.

Roll credits!

There is a frozen pond where a woman died. Dr Simeon does some ominous talk about it that I am too tipsy to follow. Then Jenny appears! And Vastra! Simeon says that Sherlock is is almost definitely based on them. They tell him they're married.

The ice remembers stuff. Vastra hopes it's learning from the right people. Jenny mopes that the Doctor doesn't help people any more. Except he is investigating and Strax is very eager to get grenades involved, good for him. In the background, Clara yells.

The Doctor explains that genders confuse Strax. Clara is going to forget because of the worm except there is a problem with the worm and that problem is Strax, who didn't use his gauntlets. It is very hilarious, possibly because I am not sober.

Clara asks about the snowmen and because the snow is kinda psychic, they start appearing, until the Doctor tells her to imagine them melting, Merry Christmas.

Clara follows the Doctor to an invisible ladder. It turns into an invisible staircase. TARDIS is in the clouds!

To Simeon! He talks to a snowglobe. I ignore the spoilery subtitles that tell us the name of the snow.

Clara heads off to work and changes into a demure governess outfit. The father of the house holds a card that says GI. I continue to ignore the spoiler text. She goes out to see the children. One of them is called Digby and I like to pretend he's the Uncle Digby from the last special. Anyway, he hated the old governess who died in the pond. The children have nightmares about her.

Clara tries to find the invisible ladder again. Jenny intervenes and takes her to Vastra. Clara is weirded out. She is allowed to answer in one word answers . Somehow she manages. Vastra explains that the Doctor kinda stays alone and asks why he should help. The TARDIS phone rings. Clara's answer was Pond.

Sherlock Holmes wandders off to see Dr Simeon and his giant snowglobe. The snow says it's the Intelligence and I originally did not get it, probably because I did not have the spoiler subtitles on. The Doctor reasons that the snow needs human DNA in ice form. Like the old, frozen governess in the pond.

The Doctor goes off to check out the pond and Strax wishes to get grenades involved. Don't we all. Clara spots him and he wanders off just as the ice starts doing stuff.

Strax wants to play with acid. Don't we all.

Clara makes up shit to amuse the children. She tells them the Doctor is around but oops, it's the old governess made of ice. But the Doctor is there, hiding in the Punch and Judy set, which is probably only a scene that made sense to Brits. He sonics the ice governess anyway, but only temporarily.

Then Jenny, Vastra and Strax show up to freak out the staff. Strax suggests grenades before explaining their military tactics.

There is a random snog what?

Dr Simeon shows up. As does my child, hangry, am I distracted as they talk to me about Matt Smith and Spider-man. I have not seen the new Spider-man yet though so no spoilers pls.

Anyway ice governess turns into snow. Clara grabs the invisible ladder and snarks at her. They lure her away from the snow. Clara grumps at the Doctor as he sulks off into the TARDIS, then he smirks as she states that it's... smaller on the outside. Eh. close enough.

And then she mentions souffles. The Doctor has a wait, what? moment. And gives her a key. He is very excited! But the the ice governess grabs her and they both fall out of the TARDIS and die, oops. Well, not just yet, and the Doctor refuses to accept it and invites her to travel with him instead. Merry Christmas.

He heads outside to face Dr Simeon and his snowmen with a piece of the ice lady in a box featuring a map of the London Underground, 1967, which is when I start to really sit up and pay attention. Have I ever mentioned that my absolute number one favourite story of all time is The Web Of Fear? Because it is. Back in 1989, when I was a wee Sushi of less than ten years old, my mother gave me a Doctor Who omnibus book containing this story, which I had never seen before, because back then, I knew nothing of the First and Second Doctors because so much of their eras had been wiped, TV reruns generally started at the Third Doctor. So I read that story and was hooked at once. I went and asked mum why I'd never seen it before, which was when I found out about the missing epsidoes and ruined my life forever. And then in 2013, Philip Morris found four more episodes and it was the best day of my life also kids, never follows your heros on Twitter lest they turn out to be Brexity NMDs.

ANYWAY. The snowglobe wants to learn to take human form. The Doctor sonics it and finds out it has Simeon's voice because it's been copying him since he was a child. Dr Simeon grabs the box but oops, inside is that memory worm! And if Simeon has no memory, the snow can't leech off him!

...In theory. In reality, the snow says a big fuck you to the Doctor and all the snowmen come to life. The worm erased pretty much all of Simeon and the snow has taken over, oops!

Back to Clara. She's dying. She tells the children's father to take care of his children now because she kinda can't.

Simeon dies. The Doctor says the snow mirrors and it's mirroring something else now. Tears, to be exact. Because Clara is dying, aww. She tells him to run and remember him.

Funeral time. The Intelligence has melted in the snow and the Doctor is concerned, but Jenny says they can't be that scared of a disembodied intelligence, Vaxtra says especially not one that thinsk the underground is key strategic weakness, and the Doctor whips out one of Simeons GI business cards and realises that stands for Great Intelligence and I do a happy, wiggly little squeal of nerd joy.

The Doctor approaches the gravestone and realises Clara is Oswin from the Dalek Asylum. He does his own little dance of nerd joy and heads off to find her again.

In the future, we see modern Clara pass her Victorian gravestone.

FINAL THOUGHTS

OK, not as Christmassy as the last two at all, and if The Web Of Fear was not quite literally my favourite episode of all time, I probably wouldn't care all that much about this one. But The Web Of Fear IS literally my favourite episode of all time, and so my whole brain is all "OMG it's the Great Intelligence OMG the Intelligence is back holy shit!!!" Especially because when this aired, only episode one existed. We wouldn't get episodes 2, 4, 5 and 6 until almost a year later. And so for this reason alone, this episode holds a very special place in my heart. Jenny and Vastra are lovely and it's great to see their relationship as wife and wife made canon. Strax is hilarious, as always. Clara is fairly fun, up until she dies, but at the end of the day, the most important fact is that tiny baby Sushi waited 23 years to see her favourite ever monster back onscreen in a complete story and never even saw it coming, and that's why Christmas is magic.

[apples-r-rubbish]

Institute (13th Doctor x Reader) Part 1

Summary: After a weird encounter on a victorian street the doctor is drawn to you a fellow time traveller AN: HI!! this is a 13 x fem! reader as I started this a while ago and it would’ve meant very heavy delays if I had altered it Word count: 1.6k Warnings: death mention 

(PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5) (PART 6) (PART 7)  (PART 8) MASTERLIST

The doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, rubbing her hands together “C’mon gang, let’s get a shift on. Lots to see, lots to do.” She said taking the lead and walking ahead. The victorian streets were cobblestone, and covered in mud, “Doc, I thought the victorian era was supposed to be more, I don’t know? Glamorous.” Graham sighed

“Oi! This is real history, you can’t believe everything you see in movies. They’re more historically inaccurate than you’d think,” The doctor snapped jokingly

“Then why’s she wearing jeans?” Ryan asked, gesturing towards you. The entire group turned to look at you. 

“Another time traveller probably. I’m not the only one knocking about time and space. She’s definitely not a time agent because she would be dressed era appropriate, so I assume she’s just passing through,” She rambled. Whilst she talked about the intricacies of the time agency you approached them. 

“You do understand it is rude to talk about someone, and not include them, regardless, of how well you know someone, Doctor, Ryan, Graham, Yaz,” You interrupted

“Who are you? Sorry, time travel, you should know what it’s like, nothings ever in the right order. Especially with people,” A confused expression fixed on her face

“Oh, of course, that makes sense. It’s all coming together,” You said glaring at the vortex manipulator and sticking your hand out to her “My name’s (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

“That’s a lovely name. A really lovely name,” The doctor said smiling widely, Ryan and Yaz chuckling at her.

“You’ll see me again,” You said kissing her on the cheek “That’ll make more sense eventually, I promise,”

“Do you happen to know an archeologist by any chance?”

“I think I know the one you’re referring to. We happen to be friends I’ll have you know,” You blinked staring off into the distance for a second “Well, if you haven't met me yet, I should get going,” You said tapping the travel device and slamming your hand down against it. You vanished.

“Well that definitely was one of the more confusing interactions we’ve had,” Yaz frowned. Electricity fizzed and you reappeared behind them, “Sorry, sorry,” You said making them jump “Doctor, when you see me next, give me this, it’ll make sense to her, maybe. Anyway, onwards,”  You handed her a heavy ring as you spoke, ”I’ve always wanted to die on a foreign planet.” And before she could respond, you vanished into thin air once again.

“How- How did she do that?” Graham asked “And what did she mean? Die on a foriegn planet,”

“Vortex manipulator, nasty way to time travel, bad for the kidneys,” She frowned “as for the death bit, I don’t know,”

It’d been 3 months since the doctor had met you. She had tried to search for you and found nothing. She’d bored the fam to death rambling about time and the way it worked and who you could be and things she’d done to try to track you down. Nothing seemed to work, at one point they’d tried to stage an intervention which did not help as it merely gave her a platform to theorise. Until one day they arrived on Earth. 

“Right gang, this is an abandoned building, middle of London. 3 hours to get some stuff done before we set off again,” the doctor said as she pushed the door open. The building outside the doors was definitely not abandoned. It looked like an office, floor to ceiling windows and a beautiful view of London outwards, a desk opposite them. 

“Are you sure you’re right? This looks awfully officey for an abandoned building,” Ryan commented with a frown. The room was large, there were a variety of chairs placed around the room, along with a few futuristic looking lights

“No, it’s definitely Earth the gravity feels right,” The doctor answered, she licked her finger and lifted it into the air, “It’s earth, middle of London, Wednesday and it’s 11:02am,” She said a smug smile framing her face, wiping her finger on Yaz despite her protests. A door opened, you stepped out looking younger than the version in the victorian street, dressed in a suit, the opposite to how you were in the street.

“Hello, you’re the doctor, and I presume these are your companions? Assistants? Friends? Whatever you call them now,” You said extending a hand out to the timelord

“Yes, I am and yes they’re friends,” She said taking it “So you’re (Y/N) (L/N) then? What is this place?”

“Yes I am. It’s my office, I’ll explain on the tour, follow me, this way,” You said taking the lead and exiting the room

“We can’t tell her about what we saw, it runs the risk of collapsing reality or potentially ruining a fixed point, which is very, very bad, specifically 4 suitcase fulls and a bus journey full of bad,” The doctor explained in a hushed whisper to the other three

“But what if we could save her? Stop her from believing she’ll die on another planet?” Yaz asked empathetic as always

“Look, we can’t, I’ve tried that before and it ends up worse, we can’t do that. We can’t choose who lives and who dies,” She said glaring at all of them before snapping back to her usual sunny disposition and following you out of the room, the others trailing behind

“We always knew you would visit us at one point, it was inevitable given what we deal with,” You stated

“What is this place? Is this some kind of database an information hub? Why didn’t it show up on TARDIS scanners?” She asked, her list of questions increasing

“No, we’re an institute. Future tech, didn’t want you interfering. We help people, or we try to. London’s best kept secret, used internationally, U.N.I.T. doesn’t even know we exist. It didn’t show up on scanners because we planned for you and we knew that, of we wanted to do our jobs properly we couldn’t have interferences be it human or otherwise, especially not from you,” You replied 

“What exactly are you the institute of?” Graham interrupted

“Formally, rehabilitation of former time travelers and people who come into contact with aliens. Informally, cleaning up after the Doctor. We’re The Bad Wolf Institute, formerly known as The Trenzalore institute, but Captain Harkness insisted we change it, after an old friend of yours, I believe” 

The doctor froze in her tracks “Sorry? The Bad Wolf institute?”

“Yes, Jack was very insistent, pitched it to Me and she seemed to like the concept. The meeting of human and alien so to speak,” 

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person and first person?” Yaz mumbled

“No, Lady Me founded the institute and is formally the director of it, however, when she is away with one of your former friends or running trap street, I become acting director,” You explained opening a door and ushering them inside “She did claim she was trying to protect the world from you. She kept her word Doctor.” Inside the room was sectioned off areas of ground and a locked cabinet. “Vortex manipulators,” You answered the moment the doctor opened her mouth to ask “Called in a favour from Jack and Torchwood, he owed us after the 456 issue, but we took care of it. Use them to jump planets and time, smooth over any damage you’ve done, better us than the time agents, you know what they’re like.”

“Isn’t that a violation of time having them in the 21st century considering they were invented in the 51st century?”

“Yes, however, we’re erased from future narratives, we’re ghosts in the future, barely echos of echos,” 

The doctor stopped suddenly, “How can I trust you? Hm? How do I know you aren’t lying? You could be a trap, a trick,” 

“I can pull out a file on any former companion and read it to you.  Amy, Rory, Jack, Martha, Clara, Rose, Harry, Donna, Jamie, pick a name and we’ll find it,” Your tone was neutral, but your face wasn’t harsh. 

“Too general, anyone from U.N.I.T can do that, I need something more specific,”

“I was the rep assigned to Amelia and Rory Williams, the Ponds. Visited her, 1946, New York, made some connections for her. Hooked up with an adoption agency, her and Rory adopted a son. She also repeatedly referred to you as raggedy man, and told me you used to eat fishfingers and custard which is something we didn’t have on file. We didn’t add it, you’re allowed some secrets, old man, no matter how vile it sounds,” A smile gracing for face at the last words

“Sorry? You used to be a man?” Graham asked. You chuckled at that, the formal facade finally slipping.

“Yes? That’s what you take away from that Graham? I believe you, no one other than her calls me that.” The doctor nodded at you, pulling the weighted silver ring from one of her many coat pockets “Oh before I forget, someone told me to give you this. They said it was important.”

You examined the ring for a second, a small chuckle escaped you “This was my mother’s, it went missing not long after she died. Never found it, searched the whole house, nothing,” You explained, slipping it on to your finger. “Thank you, I presume it was me then. My future must be in safe hands.”

“How did you- How did you work that out?” Ryan asked 

“Time travel, it’s weird,”

“Want to come with us?” The doctor said unexpectedly

“Not especially. I have an institute to look after while Me runs Trap street, ask me again one day and I might just say yes,” You sighed a small wink directed towards her at the end of your sentence “Leave the TARDIS here as long as you’d like, no harm will come to it here.”

And that’s where it began.

[alloftheimagines]

the eleventh doctor imagine | not you

masterlist 

words: 2.6k+

warnings: mentions of death, angst, aftermath of losing amy & rory 

prompt: okay but what about an imagine where the reader is trying to help the 11th doctor out after losing any and he lashes out at her. and so they give eachother the silent treatment and he leaves her in the tardis while he meets Clara and the reader feels hurt and it's all messy and suddenly he just tells her he lives her and it's all fluffy and sweet okay bye 

"It's not your fault," you whisper, unable to hide the crack in your voice as you place a gentle hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "You did everything that you could."

He places the book down beside him on the bench slowly, his lips pressed into a hard line. His round spectacles had fallen down his nose, but as he looks up at you, he makes no effort to push them up again. You're surprised to find his eyes are dry, though you can practically feel the pain radiating off him from where you stand. "Yes," he replies finally, calmly. "It is."

He stands up, leaving the book on the bench as he walks back to the TARDIS. You take a breath and pick it up, knowing that even if he doesn't want it now, he will one day, when the pain has dulled and the grief is nothing more than a mere ache. By the time you step into the TARDIS, he's already at the console, pressing buttons with a demeanor so composed that it frightens you.

"Doctor—" you say, realising only as his name leaves your mouth that you have no idea how you were going to finish the sentence. You place the book down on the side carefully.

He doesn't look up, dragging his fingers through his hair as the engine begins to hum to life. It feels empty without Amy and Rory flitting around the place, bantering and bickering, laughing lovingly as they tease the Doctor about something or other. The silence is an unwelcome blanket, heavy, suffocating, swaddling you tightly so you feel as though you can't move—until you dare to break it. "Where are we going?"

"Home," he answers bluntly, still unable to meet your gaze. "I'm taking you home."

Dread begins to rise, first in your stomach and then to your chest, until it finds a home in your throat, where it aches, throbs. "Why?"

"Because I don't want you here," he snaps suddenly.

You gawk at him in surprise, tears welling in your eyes as you grip the console for support. "Can we just stop? Let's just talk about this for a minute, yeah?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he mutters, thrusting the monitor towards him.

"I know that this hurts." You place a hand on his arm, causing him to freeze where he stands. "It hurts me, too. But you don't have to take me home. I'm still here, Doctor. You still have me."

"For how long?" His voice rises as he turns to face you, towering over you: the Oncoming Storm. You see it in him, not for the first time: the reason so many are afraid of him. His eyes are writhing with it, with the anger and the pain, and it burns into you as you try to keep your composure for his sake. Because he doesn't mean any of it. Because he is grieving. Because he needs you—or so you keep telling yourself as his words turn bitter. "A few months? A year? A few at best? I knew this would happen; this always happens, and yet I let it, because I'm selfish and you lot ... You lot are stupid! Show you a couple of stars and you'll give your whole lives up for me. Pathetic, really, isn't it? Not this time, [Y/N]. Not with you. You're going home."

Your hand drops to your side and you take a step back, the TARDIS rattling beneath your feet. "I don't want to go home," you say quietly, "and you don't want me to. You lost your friends and you blame yourself. I get it. But I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together."

He lets out a sour laugh as the TARDIS quietens upon landing. Your stomach twists at the sudden lack of motion, feeling as though your time is running out—ironic, you think, seeing as you are in a time machine.

"I don't want to get through it together. I want you gone." His hands clutch the console tightly, his knuckles turning white. "Go home, [Y/N]."

"No," you answer stubbornly, putting your hand over his.

"Get out," he orders through gritted teeth, pulling away from you to point to the door. "Now."

You narrow your eyes. "No."

Again with the laugh, the one that turns your insides sour. "Do you honestly think you're helping me?" He looks you up and down with contempt. "Look at you, [Y/N]. So very human. So very weak. Why would I want you here?"

"You asked me to travel with you." Your mouth had dried out, your throat hoarse. "You wanted me here."

"I was entertaining you. I took pity on you because Amy asked me to; told me about your sad little life and how desperately you wanted to escape to see the stars with her. Now she's not here, is she? Now I don't have to do what she wants. Now you can go."

His words cut into you like blades, each one causing you to take another step back as though they are slashing into you, fending you off. "You don't mean that." You sound weak, unconvinced, broken.

"Don't I?" He raises an eyebrow, holding out his hand. "I want my key back."

"What?" You lick your lips in a desperate attempt to wet your mouth again.

"The TARDIS key. I want it back."

Bewildered, you obey, digging around in your pocket until you find the cold piece of metal and drop it into his palm. "Doctor—"

"When I come back I want you gone," he interrupts, sliding the key into the inside of his blazer as though it means nothing: as though you mean nothing.

Before you can respond he disappears, the doors creaking as he opens them and lets them fall shut behind him. A slither of light slips in as he does, grey and uninviting. You collapse onto the seat with tears rolling down your cheeks, the Doctor's words echoing in your mind until you wish you could tear it out, tear all of it out—the words, the memories. Somehow, in the space of a few hours, you had lost everything.

Your one remaining shred of dignity forces you out of your chair after you let out a few, wrangled sobs, and you collect your belongings quickly, shoving them into your backpack in a crumpled heap. As though sensing your distress, the TARDIS groans uneasily, and you sigh, taking one last glance at the place you have been calling home for so long.

"Goodbye," you croak. "Thank you."

Only it isn't a goodbye, you realise a moment later as you open the doors hesitantly, because you aren't home—or at least, you are home, just around 200 years too early. You step onto the cobbles of the alley in confusion, stagecoaches wheeling past on the main street. You curse the Doctor under your breath: he's left you stranded without even the ability walk away from him for good.

With the clothes you are wearing, there's no way you'd blend in, and even if you could, what would you do? Search foreign streets for the Doctor so that he could belittle you even more? You step back into the TARDIS, checking the monitor for any evidence of his whereabouts.

"Where is he?" you mutter to yourself, patting the TARDIS gratefully when the monitor flickers to surveillance of him—and a girl. He had left you barely an hour ago and already he had found your replacement. She's pretty, too, undeniably so. He laughs at something she says while fixing his bow tie. You're certain his cheeks are slightly flushed.

Numbly, you slide the monitor away and take a seat on the TARDIS steps, shaking your head in disbelief. Your head throbs from the tears you've cried and still have yet to, your stomach a painful knot of grief, anger, sadness, desperation. That's where you remain until he returns an hour or so later, taking gentle steps towards the console until he finds you sitting beside it.

With a sigh, he sits beside you wordlessly. You refuse to look at him as you speak. "Packed my stuff. Walked out like you wanted. Only this is a bit before my time and you're not leaving me in Victorian England to become a bloody chaste housewife. I don't care how much you want me gone. I refuse to wear a corset."

"Yes, I did seem to get things slightly wrong on that front, didn't I?" His voice is much softer than it had been earlier, though thick with the sadness you have been waiting for all along. His glasses are hidden in his front pocket now, and his brown eyes are glassy, red-rimmed. "In fact, I think I was wrong on all fronts."

You glance at him. He's already looking at you, and now his hand rises to your face as he cups your damp cheek. "I'm sorry, [Y/N]. I am ... There aren't words to convey how sorry I am. The things I said, the way I treated you—it was terrible."

"Just ... let's not drag this out," you reply, unable to meet his eye as you turn away, forcing his hand to drop into his lap. "Take me home, Doctor."

"Is that what you want?"

"Does it matter what I want?" You sigh, fatigue weighing on you now.

"Yes. It's all that matters."

You roll your eyes, standing up to free yourself from his proximity and leaning over the console with your back to him. "Now that you've yelled at me and had your fun with your new toy, you mean?" When he doesn't reply, you turn the screen to him. "I saw you. Didn't even wait to take me home to find someone new. Then again, she's very pretty isn't she? I can't blame you."

"[Y/N]..."

"Just save it, okay? You've said more than enough. I'm tired. I want to go home."

"I don't want you to go home. I want you to stay." Suddenly, he's behind you, intertwining your fingers together, his mouth down-turned at the corners as you turn to him. "I don't deserve that, of course, not after what I said. Not after the way I ..." He's unable to find the ending to that sentence, a rare occurrence for him. "There is no excuse, but you were right. I blame myself for Amy and Rory. I feel guilty. And I feel sad. And I feel afraid."

"Afraid?" you ask, frowning.

He nods. "Losing them ... Losing everyone I've ever lost ... It hurts, [YN]. Knowing it will happen to you, too, one day is more than I can bear. I can't put you in danger anymore. Not you. It can never be you."

"But you said you took pity on me. You said you didn't want me."

"I said those things to hurt you. I wanted you to hate me. I knew there would be no other way to get you to go."

"Well, it worked," you say, and this time yours is the voice that's bitter. "You did hurt me."

"I'm sorry," he repeats sadly. "I suppose that I thought you hating me was easier than me losing you later down the line."

"I understand that. You've lost a lot of people who you think you're responsible for," you nod. "Only you're not responsible for them, Doctor. I knew the risks when I chose this, and so did Amy and Rory. They didn't die today, not really. They went back in time and lived a beautiful life together."

"I could have saved them," he interjected, his eyes filling with tears.

"If that were true, you would have," you argued. "Nothing you could have said or done would have changed this. You did what you could."

"Only if they hadn't traveled with me in the first place, this wouldn't have happened."

"Do you think that's what they wanted?" you asked. "To have never traveled with you? Without you, they wouldn't have had the life they did—they might never have gotten back together at all, or gotten married, for that matter. As much as they loved one another, their memories, their life, it didn't mean half as much without you. Maybe people's lives are shorter with you in them, but that doesn't mean they're emptier. You give people the universe, Doctor, and the people who love you choose it knowing that it might end badly—and not just because of the travelling, but because of you, too. Knowing you and putting ourselves in danger is better than the alternative. Don't you see that?"

"But it isn't better for me!" he shouts again and dread fills your stomach. You're not sure you can take another round of him making you feel small. "I have to watch. I have to see people I care about die. I can save the universe over and over, [Y/N], but somehow, in the end, I can't save the people that matter most. How is that fair? How can I pluck you from your home, from your planet, and ask you to risk everything for me until I have to watch you die?"

"You don't ask. We choose. It doesn't have to be fair, or just. It's not about that with you." This time, you are the one to cup his face in the hopes your touch will calm him. Tears stream down his cheeks, and you're surprised when he places his hand on top of yours. "What matters is that we live. We fight. We love. We notice. All of that is worth the risk. You are worth the risk—and I hope that maybe we are worth the pain you feel when we leave."

"Maybe for the others, but not you, [Y/N]."

You drop your hand, misunderstanding him and beginning to turn away.

"No." His fingers snake around your forearm, stopping you so that you have to turn back around to face him. "No, I mean I can't watch it happen to you, too. I can't ... I can't lose you. I could handle anything but that."

You blink, taken aback. "I don't understand. What you said before ... and the girl."

"Clara meant nothing to me. How could she when ...," he hesitates, "When I love you?"

"You love me?" you repeat, sure you've misheard.

He nods, swallowing nervously. "And that's why ... It's why I can't lose you. It's why I need you to go home, where I know you're safe."

"You know that won't happen," you respond, your breath falling raggedly between you as he inches closer to you until you're pressed against the console. "As long as you want me here I'll never leave you, Doctor. As long as you didn't mean those things you said ..."

"You know that I didn't," he said lowly, pressing his forehead against yours. "But what am I supposed to do? Let you stay until I lose you, too?"

"Yes," you answered. "I know it's dangerous. I know I might die. I've always known that."

"I can't," he shakes his head, drawing away slightly as though realising what he's doing. "I can't watch that happen to you. Not to you."

The way those words keep falling out of his mouth as though he cannot fathom the idea of it, of losing you, sends a shiver down your spine—before, you had thought you meant nothing to him. Now, you could see you meant everything. "Then I'll stay forever," you say, knowing the idea is silly and impossible, knowing it's exactly what he needed to hear.

His tension melts into a soft, desperate kiss that neither of you seemed to be expecting, and yet somehow it isn't awkward and somehow, he doesn't pull away right away.

"Forever," he agrees.

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 34

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 34 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 34/? SUMMARY: Elise Smith is now a teenaged Timelord. In addition to losing the Ponds, the fields of Trenzalore are calling. But first they have to figure out exactly who Clara Oswald is.

[A/N - Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! Here’s a new chapter!]

The engine room was nothing but a cliff.

“The engine room. The heart of the TARDIS,” the Doctor said.

“We're outside,” Clara told him.

“No, we're still in the TARDIS.”

“There's no way across.”

“No, okay, you're right.”

“So what do we do? Time for a plan. Do you have a plan?”

“Well, no. No plan. Sorry.”

“If you don't have a plan, we're dead.”

“Yes, we are. So just tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Well, there's no point now. We're about to die. Just tell me who you are.”

“You know who I am.”

“No, I don't. I look at you every single day and I don't understand a thing about you. Why do I keep running into you?”

“Doctor, you invited me. You said…”

“Before that. Elise and I, we met you in the Dalek Asylum. There was a girl in a shipwreck and she died saving our lives, and she was you.”

“She really wasn't.”

“Victorian London. There was a governess who was really a barmaid, and we fought the Great Intelligence together.”

“She died trying to save me,” Elise told her.

“And she was you!”

“You're scaring me.”

The Doctor got in her face. “Elise was right. What are you, eh? Are you a trick, a trap?”

“Hey! Don’t go blaming me! I had just regenerated!” Elise snapped.

Clara backed away from the two Timelords. “I don't know what you're talking about!”

The Doctor grabbed her before she could fall off the cliff and hugged her. “You really don't, do you?”

“I think I'm more scared of you right now than anything else on that TARDIS.”

“You're just Clara, aren't you?” The Doctor laughed and hugged her again.

“Okay, I don't know what the hell this is about, but the hug is really nice.”

“We're not going to die here. This isn't real! It's a snarl.”

“What?”

“What does a wounded animal do? It tries to scare everyone away. We're close to the engine. The TARDIS is snarling at us, trying to frighten us off. We need to jump.”

“You're insane.”

“We'll cross a portal to the engine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can't.”

The three of them backed up.

“Okay, well, that's watertight,” Clara said.

“Hey now, Clara, I have piloted this ship for over nine hundred years. Trust me this one time, please.”

Clara raised her eyebrows at him.

“Okay. Okay. As well as all the other times. Ready?”

Clara nodded.

The Doctor looked at Elise, who gave him a smirk.

“Who’s scared? Geronimo.”

He smiled, remembering another red headed with a Scottish accent. He grabbed her hand and they all ran towards the cliff and jumped off.

They landed in a white space filled with pieces of metal frozen in time.

Elise gasped and the Doctor squeezed her hand. Elise squeezed it back.

When the Doctor spoke, Clara could hear the pain in his voice. “The heart of the TARDIS. The engine, it's already exploded. It must have been the collision with the salvage ship.”

“We're not dead,” Clara told him.

“She wrapped her hands around the force. Froze it.”

“So, so it's safe?”

“Temporary fix. Eventually this whole place will erupt. There's no way I can save her now. She's just always been there for me, and taken care of me, and now it's my turn and I don't know what to do. I think it just…”

Elise could feel her hearts shattering in her chest. The last TARDIS was dying. The last thing left of their home planet, besides each other, and soon she’d be dead.

Clara took the Doctor’s other hand and the Doctor noticed the burn marks on it.

He looked at her and smiled. “Oh, Clara. Oh. You are beautiful. Beautiful fragile human skin.” He kissed her palm. “Like parchment. Thank you. The rift in time. All the memories leaking out. I need to find the moment we crashed.”

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. “I need to find…”

Music started playing.

“…the music.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He grabbed Clara and Elise’s hands and they found the control room.

They carefully made their way under the console as the music played. There was crack in the wall. Thankfully this one wasn’t “W” shaped.

“The time rift. Recent past, possible future,” the Doctor said.

“What are you going to do?” Clara asked.

“Rewrite today, I hope.” He grabbed the grenade that went off earlier and etched letters onto it with the screwdriver. “I've thrown this through the rift before. I need to make sure this time. Going to take it in there myself. There might be a certain amount of yelling.”

“It's going to hurt?”

“Things that end your life often do that.”

“No!” Elise yelled.

The Doctor walked over to her and kissed her forehead. “It’ll never have happened. This timeline.”

“Big Bang?”

He smiled and kissed her head again. “Big Bang.” He walked over to the crack.

“Wait! All those things you said. How we've met before, how I died,” Clara said.

“Clara, don't worry. You'll forget. Time mends us. It can mend anything.”

“I don't want to forget. Not all of it. The library. I saw it. You were mentioned in a book.”

“I'm mentioned in a lot of books.”

“You call yourself Doctor. Why do you do that? You have a name. I've seen it. In one corner of that tiny…”

He put a finger on her lips to stop her. “If I rewrite today, you won't remember. You won't go looking for my name.”

“You'll still have secrets.”

“It's better that way.” The Doctor stepped through the crack in the wall, screaming.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elise came out of her room and into the control room. “What the hell was that?”

“Magno-grab. Nothing to worry about,” the Doctor told her.

“My room’s a mess.”

The Doctor waved his hand. “The TARDIS will fix it.”

The rotor beeped.

“I didn’t mean like you’re a maid or anything. You know I didn’t mean it.”

Elise laughed. “You two are about as bad as you and River.”

“Speaking of River, would you like to see her?”

Elise’s face lit up. “Oh! Could we?”

“I could drop you off.”

Elise’s smile fell. “You mean, you’re not coming?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I figured you could use some mum and daughter time.”

Elise smirked. “You just don’t want her to meet Clara. That’s what it is.”

“It is not!”

“It so is! You don’t want your ex-wife to meet your new girlfriend.”

“Clara’s not my girlfriend and why is River my ex?”

“Because ever since the Ponds, you don’t want to visit her. I.e. she’s now your ex-wife.”

The Doctor was quiet. “I never meant for it come across that way.”

Elise smiled and hugged him. “I know. River is still my mum. But Clara now gets to be the super-cool step-mum.”

The Doctor smiled and threw a lever.

Before Elise stepped off the TARDIS, the Doctor said, “Be sure to wish River a happy birthday.”

Elise stepped out into the Stormcage facility just in time to see Rory dressed as a Roman walk off with a younger version of herself. She knew exactly where she was in River’s timeline.

Elise walked up to River’s cell. “Was that Rory I saw?”

River turned to her, dressed in Regency era clothing. “Yes it was. What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t think I was going to visit you on your birthday? I’m hurt.”

River laughed and hugged her.

They sat down on River’s bed.

“Now, tell me what’s been happening.”

“Well, it all started when…”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 3

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Malcolm didn’t get a second of sleep that night.  After more than an hour tossing and turning in bed, mind racing, he reluctantly reached for his tablet and glasses, turning on the bedside lamp.

A simple Google search turned up hundreds of thousands of articles on inheritance, but none seemed to offer any solutions to receiving the inheritance without meeting the stipulations of the will.  He was an old man, perhaps he was going senile?  Why would he do this?

He shot off an email to the will executor and solicitor, asking Is it possible he was not in sound mind?  Is there a previous version of the will that doesn’t include this marriage requirement?

It was likely a vain hope, but he had to try.  Resolving to forget about the marriage idea for the moment, he turned his attention to finding a job posting board.  After a few false starts he tried charity administrator openings London, and with a sigh, began reading through the first posting.

No matter what happens, this is going to suck.  Thanks a lot, Uncle Wally.

-

Friday

By the time his alarm went off he was dressed and ready to go, texting Graham to cancel his morning pickup and deciding to take the Underground instead.  Pausing just outside the gate and staring up at the townhouse, he realized with a jolt, Everything I have is tied up in the Estate.  If I lose this inheritance, I lose everything.

At twenty-seven he’d fled Glasgow before the ink on his divorce papers was dry, bringing Clara to London for a fresh start.  His uncle had been kind enough to give him a job working for The Thistle Foundation in the mailroom, and he spent most of the next decade working his way up and earning his keep until Wallace decided to retire, leaving Malcolm in charge.  The townhouse went with the Estate, having been owned by the family since shortly after it was built, and he didn’t so much draw a salary from the Foundation as receive a stipend from his uncle.

I’m fifty years old and have almost nothing to my name.

It had always been a given that he would inherit; Wallace had never had children, his only sibling Malcolm’s father, and Malcolm was in effect an only child, his brother having died decades ago.  He’d never had to worry about assets, had few personal expenses.  To lose the Estate would cost him everything.

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed his stop, barely making it through the doors onto the platform before they closed.  Coming up to street-level he looked around, catching sight of the little shop Rose usually got their morning coffees from, only recognizing it by the familiar logo.

Stepping inside, it wasn’t until he was facing the cashier he realized he had no idea what Rose usually ordered.  “Erm, hi.  I don’t do this, my assistant is usually in here – pretty, blonde, big smile, name of Rose?  D’you-”

“Oh, you must be Malcolm!” the girl, Amy, gushed, eyes lighting up.  “Of course we know Rose, she’s in here everyday!  Oi, Mel, Rose’s regular order, stat!”  She turned back to him, finding him blinking at her in surprise.  “Always nice to meet a fellow Scot.  Rose is great, isn’t she?”

“The absolute best,” he agreed proudly, unsurprised but touched by the impression she obviously left everywhere she went.  That’s my gi- that’s Rose.  “I’d be hopelessly lost without her.”

“Too right.  Anyway, here we are, that’s ten quid,” she passed over two large takeaway cups of coffee and a pastry bag.

Right.  Feeling like a moron, entirely out of sorts after first the previous day’s bombshell and then no sleep, he dug out a twenty-pound note and thrust it across the space.  “Keep the change.  Thanks.”

Picking up the order he made his way to the door, more focused on the drinks than where he was walking, elbowing open the door and slamming right into someone entering.  “Shit!”  He barely managed to keep hold of everything, coffee sloshing dangerously but only spilling a little, and he looked up to give the person a piece of his mind only to stop dead in surprise.  “Oh, fuck me.”

Rose arched one eyebrow in response, a smile flickering over her lips.  “I’d rather not get banned from here, if it’s all the same to you, ta.” She plucked one of the cups from his hand, lifting it to her nose before taking a large gulp.  “What’re you doing here?”

Stepping out onto the sidewalk they started down the street towards their building, falling naturally into sync.

“I couldn’t sleep, thought I’d come in early.  I saw the place, and…” he trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.  “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she echoed, rolling her eyes.  “Clara stopped by, talked my ear off until half two.  Decided to just get a move on.”

The silence was awkward, which only served to annoy him; they had always had a good rapport, after the first six or so months once she had settled into her role.  Now, eight years later he considered their partnership to be a well-oiled machine, two halves of a whole despite the on-paper power imbalance.

He held the door for her as they entered their building, nodding to the security guards as they buzzed through.  Rose hit the button on the lift for their floor, and they rode up alone.

Malcolm followed her to her desk, watching as she flicked on the lights and shrugged off her coat, vaguely curious to her routine; she typically arrived only a few minutes before him- long enough to be settled and ready to face the day, but recent enough that his coffee was always hot and fresh.

“Oh!” she yelped, turning around to see him leaning on the corner of her desk, watching her.  “D’you need something?  My computer’s still booting up.”

The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, before he sighed, shoulders slumping.  “No, I’m good.  Just- oh, you know what you’re doing.  I’ll be in my office.”  Extracting his muffin from the pastry bag he slunk into his office, falling into his desk chair and turning to gaze listlessly out the window.

What am I supposed to do?

-

It was, quite frankly, the worst day of Rose’s professional career.  Things got done, most of her duties able to be completed on autopilot after so long, but she could muster no spark to put into any of it.  No banter. None of her signature Rose Tyler charm.

Her computer dinged and she glanced up from where she was poking at her salad halfheartedly to groan.  “Oh, you’ve got to be motherfucking shitting me.”

“Rose Tyler!”  Malcolm’s delighted voice made her jump and yelp, “I’m so proud of you.  That was almost a proper swear.”

“Missy’s on her way up,” she didn’t even look at him, clicking on the IM box from Mickey, the building’s security guard and one of her oldest friends.  It was just an emoji, two wide eyes, but it was their code.  “What do you want me to do?”

He sighed heavily.  “Fine, I’ll see her.  I swear, she must have my office bugged or something.”

The lift dinged, and she raised her eyes to glance at him.  He looks like he’s having as rough a day as I am.  He’d said he hadn’t slept; had it been for the same reason she hadn’t?  No, he was probably thinking about the gala.  Of course it was about that, dingbat.  “I’ll send her in.”

“Thanks.”

He disappeared back into his office as Missy walked in, and Rose had to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing or rolling her eyes.  What did he ever see in her?  Missy Tucker was without comparison the most extravagant, eccentric person she’d ever met, and that included all of her mother’s rich society ‘friends’.

“Good afternoon, welcome to The Thistle Foundation, do you have an appointment?” Rose asked sweetly, as the older woman approached her desk.

“I’d like to see my husband, please.”  Missy’s smile was just as fake-sweet as Rose’s, as they went through the whole song-and-dance.  One of the very first things Rose had been taught on her first day, by both Malcolm and her predecessor Jo, was to stall Missy as long as possible, making enough trouble that she didn’t find it worth it to visit the office.

This is your best friend’s mother, this is your best friend’s mother, this is your best friend’s mother, Rose lectured herself, pretending to stare intently at her screen for a moment.  “I can give you a few minutes, but he has a call at one that he can’t miss.”

“Thank you.”  And she swept past Rose into Malcolm’s office.

Once the door shut behind her, Rose let loose an undignified snort.  Taking a subtle picture with her mobile, she texted it to Clara with the caption Your mum’s here.

Missy Tucker was the subject of ongoing amusement amongst the three; every time she appeared after months of no contact she had an entirely different style, often with a slight tweak to her features suggesting she was a fan of cosmetic surgery.  Today her chosen look was that of evil Mary Poppins, complete with a plum-colored ankle-length skirt and matching dress coat, a white dress shirt buttoned to the neck with an elaborate bow, black heeled boots, a delicate hat, and an umbrella Rose would swear was an actual prop from the movie.

She looked ridiculous, and like she would be right at home as the evil orphanage matron in a Victorian version of Annie!

Are you fucking kidding me? Clara pinged back almost immediately.  I love my Dad, but God I wish I was adopted.  Please tell me I didn’t inherit her fashion sense!

Snickering, Rose shook her head and returned to her work polishing up her resume.  At precisely one o’clock she buzzed in on the intercom, using what Clara called her flight attendant voice.  “Malcolm, I have that potential donor on line two.”

“Thank you, Miss Tyler.”

A moment later the door opened and Missy stalked out, a murderous expression on her face.  “I’ll talk to you soon,” she threatened her ex over her shoulder, ignoring Rose as she stormed towards the lift.

Rose waited until the lift doors closed before rising and entering Malcolm’s office.  “So?”

He was lying on his couch with his head back against the cushions, a crystal cut glass of scotch hanging loosely from his hand.  “She wants to reconcile, says she’s changed, wants to go back to what we once were.”

“What did you say?”  She settled gingerly on the end of the glass coffee table by his head, watching as he opened tired eyes to stare at her.

“That who we were went up in a flaming pile of shit twenty-three years ago when I caught her high in bed with the babysitter on our fifth wedding anniversary.  That who we were was a childhood friendship that went too far.  That who we were died many, many years ago.”

He looked so sad, Rose’s heart went out to him.

“It’s far, far too late now.  A part of me will always miss that, always wonder, but…  It’s ancient history.  Never mind that this is all because of Wallace’s death and the inheritance.  She didn’t say it, but I know her.  Anything that even sniffs of money or power and she’s first in line, plotting how to get it.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose offered, giving him a kind smile.  “You deserve better than her.”

Sighing, he struggled upright, turning to plant his feet on the ground and set the untouched glass of scotch on the coffee table next to her.  “Thanks.”

Their eyes met, and for once, she didn’t blush and look away.  Clara’s question from the previous night circled back through her mind, and she let herself actually see him.  Ice blue eyes capable of such a coldness shined back, warm and open, something only a privileged few were allowed to see.  His strong features could be severe, Clara had once called them attack eyebrows, but when he smiled… his entire face would light up, almost like he was a different person.

She'd always found him attractive, may have had the occasional fantasy involving them, a bottle of wine, and a hot tub, but love?

Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she automatically licked her own.  She would be lying if she said she’d never wondered – didn’t everyone, at some point?  He drew closer, and she realized that she was leaning in; they were both leaning in.  Is this really happening?

Rose’s eyes fluttered closed, her heart pounding, and she could feel his breath against her lips when-

“Dad?”

[frothytundra]

Humans have invented amazing things, but some inventions are so ubiquitous that we overlook them. Today I am focussing my attention on one invention that owes everything to the ingenuity and industry of ancient civilizations. I am thinking about bricks. Ordinary, everyday, bricks. They have been around since 7000 BC and we have had fired bricks since 3500 BC.

Between buildings E San Fernando Street, San Jose, CA.

I find red brick buildings particularly attractive, and today I learned that in Victorian England red bricks became popular because red brick buildings were easier to see in the fog than were lighter colored bricks and stones. That makes perfect sense to me.

Britannia Arms, 173 W Santa Clara St., San Jose, CA

N First Street, San Jose, CA

There are regulations that govern the size, shape, and weight of a brick but no doubt the standard brick evolved from generations of bricklayers figuring out what were the most practical dimensions to handle repeatedly and to be able to lift in useful quantities. That, in itself is a fascinating development. They worked out the optimal unit measurements to create enormous buildings using only manual labor.

Rear of 35 South Market Street, San Jose, CA

Side of 35 South Market Street, San Jose, CA

They didn’t only design the perfect unit for building, they also found ways to make their collective uses pleasing to the eye. Thank you brickmakers and bricklayers everywhere.

    Homage To The Humble Brick Humans have invented amazing things, but some inventions are so ubiquitous that we overlook them. Today I am focussing my attention on one invention that owes everything to the ingenuity and industry of ancient civilizations.

[youngneemleaves]

Journal: 2019

A list of my literary activity through the year.

January 01 - April 30

Writing

- 2,243 words on episodes 2.01 and 2.02 of Killing Eve

- Beloved: a short story for Holi

- episode 04 of Clara Oswald: The Untold Adventures

- [plus my book reviews]

Books

- Dave Rudden, Twelve Angels Weeping: twelve stories of the villains of Doctor Who (2018) | SFF, short stories [read the review on Downtime]

- Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven (2014) | SFF (hope-punk, dystopia, post-apocalypse, pandemic), literary fiction [review]

- Amitav Ghosh, Dancing in Cambodia and Other Essays (2008, first published 1998) | memoir, nonfiction, travel [review]

- Ellen Oh and Elsie Chapman (ed.), A Thousand Beginnings and Endings (2018) | SFF, short stories

Other Stories/Articles

- Rana Dasgupta, The demise of the nation state: After decades of globalisation, our political system has become obsolete – and spasms of resurgent nationalism are a sign of its irreversible decline

- Suzanne Rivecca, Ugly, Bitter, and True: After years of feeling hopeless and barely human, one talented writer manages to find her will to live [warning: discussion of suicide, suicidal ideation, depression] [this one brought me close to tears because of how relatable it is, like the one by Anna Borges] 

- Star Trek: Discovery fanfiction by @onaperduamedee: Sand and Water; Ruling Power; if our life is less than a single day; Last Tango in San Francisco

- Caroline Weber, ‘My Favors Cost a Great Deal’ - book review of The Girl Who Loved Camellias by Julie Kavanagh, a biography of Marie Duplessis (a celebrated courtesan-turned-countess of 19th century Paris)

- Emily Mullin, How Tuberculosis Shaped Victorian Fashion: the deadly disease—and later efforts to control it—influenced trends for decades

- Jonathan Carroll, Mama Bruise

- Carrie V. Mullins, The Myth of the Consistently Great Writer

- Jonathan Mahler and Jim Rutenberg, How Rupert Murdoch’s Empire Of Influence Remade The World

- Anna Borges, I am not always very attached to being alive: Chronic, passive suicidal ideation is like living in the ocean. Let’s start talking about how to tread water [warning: discussion of suicide, mental illnesses, and suicidal ideation]

- Jedediah Berry, The Woman Who Rewrote Me [warning: discussion of domestic, physical, and psychological abuse]

- Doctor Who and Sarah Jane Adventures fanfiction: Andrew Davis, A Painted Ocean; Janine Rivers, Apophis; Zoe Lance, A New Melody part one and two

[takaraphoenix]

I lied one more, Amelia Pond, just because you talk pretty negatively about this era of Doctor who I was curious how you feel about her.

*laughs* No problems! Feel free to send more. xD

How I feel about this character: For the most part, I really like her. For the rest, see my “unpopular opinion” part about her. But yeah, I liked her, but she was not my favorite companion in that run. *side-eyes Rory*

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Rory Pond. Shush, it’s Pond that’s how that works.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: The Doctor. The two had such a great friendship and look, I know I five the Moffat era a lot of shit, but it’s more about the overall dumbass “special created assassin - yup totally married her - here have like a gazillion paradoxes created along the way” plotline and not so much the characters. I liked the dynamic between the Doctor, Amy, Rory and Brian, I loved Craig and of course my Victorian lesbians and their murder potato. The characters and dynamics were pretty great and that wasn’t actually a surprise; Moffat is the one who gave us Captain Jack and the dynamic between Jack Rose and Nine was great too. I love the two companions and Doctor dynamic.

My unpopular opinion about this character: She’s kind of a bitch. Like. I know she ranks real high on many people’s lists, but things like her just immediately breaking up with Rory instead of talking to him about her not being able to have kids? What kind of fucked up logic is that? Her acting like a cold-hearted asshole because she had to wait like 60 years for Rory in that one alternate timeline, like girl he waited two thousand years for you and he did everything to reach you here too but you’re now being mean to him? Rory and Amy are romantized into the perfect couple in this fandom, but honestly, there are many moments where it becomes clear that Rory deserves better, like right at the start when Amy kisses the Doctor on the day before her fucking wedding. For the most part, she’s a great character and companion, but... for my taste there were too many moments in which she treated Rory wrong and it doesn’t sit right with me.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Not that fucking ending. Like, yeah the Ponds had reached the end of their ride. But fucking Moffat going his overdramatic route... Just have them retire. They wanted to be parents. Let them be parents, maybe the trio finds an orphaned baby on a mission and the Ponds bond with the baby and decide to retire from traveling. Just let Amy and Rory live happily in their own time, with Brian, to raise their kid. I mean, part of me is glad that at least once they found a way of getting rid fo a companion for good because I am still pissed Martha and Mickey and Jack and at this point also Clara didn’t have reappearances because they are still around. And for how much the Doctor always acts like his humans are the most important things in the world, he... really stopped revisiting them. I think that’s why series 4 is my absolute favorite - there is a team-up and reappearance of Martha, we get literally every companion to join in the grand finale, it most acknowledged that yes, the Doctor cares about his companions, past and presence. ...Sorry, that one got off-topic, but yeeeah while I like that they were “disposed of for good because they weren’t planning on ever having the Doctor revisit old companions anymore anyway”, the part of me that cared about the Ponds really wanted them to get their happy ending in their own time, where Rory’s dad would have been there too.

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

The Last Of The Real Ones (Eleventh Doctor X Reader)

WC: 3182

Warnings: It’s kinda sad in places, but mostly fluff

Summary: The Doctor thought he was the only Time Lord left. That is, until he met Y/N.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you guys enjoy writing this. Italics equal flashbacks, bold and italics means song lyrics.

I was just an only child of the universe, until I found you. Until I found you.

“Doctor! That beeping cannot be good!” Amy screamed, her hands clasped over her ears.

“It's not good at all! Very not good!” The Doctor responded, frantically flipping switches and pulling levers.

“What's wrong?” Amy said, a scream escaping her lips as the Tardis jolted suddenly. “There's… that can't be right.” The Doctor muttered, tapping the screen in front of him harshly.

“You're not making a lot of sense, Doctor.” Amy said, giving him an irritated look.

“Quiet, Amy.” The Doctor responded, pressing his finger against Amy’s lips. This earned an indignant sound from Amy, partnered with an offended glare.

“I swear, I just fixed your scanners. There shouldn't be any faults.” The Doctor called, directing his comment to the Tardis.

The Tardis responded with a series of annoyed beeps, which caused the Doctor to furrow his eyebrows.

“She's saying that the scanners are perfectly fine. But…” The Doctor trailed off, removing his finger from Amy’s lips in order to rush around the Tardis console.

“There's another Tardis?” Amy exclaimed excitedly, her eyes fixated on the bright screen in front of her.

“Yes, but that cannot be right!” The Doctor said, his voice growing louder towards the end of his sentence, directing it at the Tardis.

“I thought you said there weren't any more Time Lords left.” Amy said, cocking her head as she looked at the Doctor.

Suddenly, the Tardis shook with the force of an earthquake, lights flashing and smoke filling the console room.

The door swung open forcefully, and a woman walked into the Tardis. “He clearly didn't say anything about Time Ladies, then.” “Y/N…” The Doctor whispered, his eyes bulging out of his head with shock.

The woman took off her bomber jacket, draping it over the railing near the door. She removed her sunglasses and Amy immediately noticed that, despite her grand entrance and fashionable appearance, there were tears in her Y/E/C eyes.

“Doctor.” Y/N said, her voice breaking slightly as she said his name. The two Gallifreyans approached each other slowly, hesitantly, convinced that they were both dreaming.

"Oh Y/N." The Doctor said, wrapping the Time Lady in a bone crushing hug, tears escaping his eyes. "I thought you were all... gone." The Doctor said, his voice strangled and broken. "I know, I know." Y/N whispered, holding him against her chest. "Doctor, am I going to get an introduction?" Amy said, causing the two Gallifreyans to separate from their embrace. A small laugh slipped past the Doctor's lips as he wiped away the tears on his face. "Amelia Pond, meet the last living Time Lady, Y/N. Before you ask, she didn’t want to adopt a title like the others, so instead she picked her favourite human name." The Doctor said, a proud smile on his face. "It's a pleasure. Really." Amy said, extending her hand to shake Y/N's. Y/N went to take the girl's hand, but paused, suddenly pulling Amy into a hug. "Thank you for keeping him company. The Doctor is a versatile man, but being alone is the one thing he cannot do well." Y/N whispered into Amy's ear, a sombre tone in her voice. The two women broke apart, and the Doctor let out a little cough. Y/N whipped her head towards him, smiling at him. "So, Y/N, what've you been doing for the last couple of hundred years?" The Doctor asked, a sad look in his eyes. "I took up a residence on Apalapuchia for a while, but then they had an outbreak of Chen-7, and given that I'm a two hearted being, I got the hell out of dodge, fast." Y/N said, chuckling slightly. "Then I had a brief stint in Victorian England. If you pick up a history textbook and it mentions that Victoria may have had a 'rumoured female lover in her early years', that'd be me."   A smile grew on the Doctor's face, memories of the two of them as children filling his mind. "Funnily enough, a lot of people thought I was you, just regenerated into a woman." Y/N said, leaning against the console. "And why is that?" The Doctor asked curiously, cocking his head slightly. "I may or may not have busted the chameleon circuits on my Tardis so it'd look like yours. It was the closest I could get to something that reminded me of home."

You are the Sun and I am just the planets spinning around you, spinning around you "Y/N, I love you, but could you please get off my console?" The Doctor asked his fiancée, who was sitting cross-legged on the Tardis console with a smirk on her face. "And why on Earth would I do that?" Y/N responded playfully, raising her eyebrows as she spoke. "Because Clara will be here soon and she wants to go, and I quote, somewhere awesome. I can't take her somewhere awesome while you're sitting on the controls!" The Doctor exclaimed, waving his hands about passionately. "Well, if you want me off the console, space boy, then you'll just have to do something about it." Y/N said suggestively, The Doctor's cheeks flushing pink. "Oi, who're you calling space boy, galaxy girl?" The Doctor said, and Y/N giggled, jumping off the console. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his arms instinctively flew to her waist. "God I love you. Even when you're cross with me." Y/N said, closing the gap between her and the Doctor.   The Doctor pulled her closer, kissing her passionately. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, gently tugging as she went, knowing exactly how her fiancé would react. "Y/N." The Doctor breathed out, breaking the kiss to breathe. "Yes?" She said coyly, pulling him into a kiss by the lapels of his jacket. The kiss was gentle, yet there was a playful undertone. "Oh my God. I should've known travelling the universe with a pair of engaged Time Lords would be a bad idea."   The two Gallifreyans broke apart at Clara's words, the Doctor flustered and blushing. Y/N simply took the Doctor's hand, smiling at Clara. "That's Time Lady to you Miss Oswald." Y/N said, a false stern edge to her voice. The trio burst into laughter, which echoed around the Tardis pleasantly. "Now, I believe I promised you something awesome, Clara." The Doctor said once the laughter had died down. "That you did, Doctor." She replied, taking a seat on the railing. "Love, how about I fly this time? The last time you let me fly was the Space Florida holiday trip, which, I will remind you, was a rather large success." Y/N said, resting a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "But Y/N, I want to take Clara to Akhaten." The Doctor whispered, as not to spoil the surprise for Clara. "Of course I know how to get there. A hundred year old could get there!" Y/N exclaimed, taking control of the Tardis. As Y/N was flying, the Doctor couldn’t help but look at her with fondness, feeling as though she were the Sun. Bright, brilliant and captivating, demanding respect and awe. Despite being the Doctor, the last Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm, sometimes he felt like he was merely the planets orbiting around Y/N. Still important, but depending entirely on the Sun. He could live with a bit of dependency, he decided.

You were too good to be true. Gold plated, but what's inside you, what's inside you.

"What's up, Doc? Sorry, I've just always wanted to say that." Amy said, sitting down next to the Doctor.

The Doctor mustered up a weak smile, which caused Amy to frown. "Rory! Get over here now!" Amy called, and almost immediately the sound of footsteps filled the room.

"I'm here! What's wrong?" Rory asked, panting slightly.

"The Doctor is in a bit of a mood, and I don't know why." Amy said, and Rory sighed, sitting down on the other side of the Doctor.

“What's wrong, Doctor?" Rory asked, and the Doctor let out a sigh. "You know Y/N, right?" The Doctor said, and both his companions nodded quickly. "Of course we know her. What does this have to do with her?" Amy asked, trying to work out what was wrong with the Doctor. “Does she ever seem too good to be true? Her arrival a tad too convenient?” The Doctor asked, and Amy and Rory exchanged a look. “Of course not. She’s a wonderful person, and now you know you’re not the only one.” Rory said kindly, but his words only caused the Doctor to frown. “Do you remember that time with the Dream Lord, where each situation felt real, but one of them was ultimately fake?” The Doctor said, standing up and beginning to pace. “Yeah, I remember that. You think Y/N is just a dream?” Amy said skeptically, trying to gauge the Doctor’s reaction. “It is a possibility. How else could you explain another Gallifreyan suddenly appearing out of nowhere, let alone one I’m very much attracted to. The universe isn’t that kind to people like me.” The Doctor said, and Amy’s jaw dropped. “You like Y/N?” Amy said, both shocked and excited at the discovery. The Doctor grew pink in the face, and began stammering awkwardly, trying to get out of the hole he had dug himself into. “Don’t try denying it, space man. You love her.” Amy said teasingly, waggling her finger in the Doctor’s face. “Quiet, Pond.” The Doctor muttered, and Rory laughed lightly at the Doctor’s childish behaviour. Suddenly the Tardis doors swung open and Y/N entered, wearing a very form fitting red suit. Her sonic pen was sticking out of her trouser pocket, and her hair fell over her shoulders. “Thought I’d try out a new look. How is it?” Y/N asked, shoving her hands in her jacket pocket. “I think you look fabulous. Doctor? What’re your thoughts?” Amy said cheekily, looking up at the Time Lord. His jaw had dropped, and his eyes were wide. “I, uh, wow, you look, good, great, fantastic. Yeah.” He stammered, his eyes locked on Y/N’s form. Y/N blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She walked up to the Doctor and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Glad you like it, space boy.”  

I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do. As much as I do. “Doctor, Y/N, what do we do?” Clara asked, looking out at the predatory Sun that was threatening to eat the people of the Akhaten system. “He doesn’t physically eat people, he eats their souls. And we all know souls are made up of our stories, our memories.” The Doctor said, pacing back and forth. While the Doctor was stuck in his thought mode, Y/N took a deep breath and walked up to the end of the temple platform. “Hey! You want stories and memories? Well you’ve got a thousand year old Time Lady right here!” Y/N shouted, drawing the attention of both Akhaten and the Doctor. “No, Y/N, I cannot allow you to do this. To give up so much.” The Doctor said, turning Y/N around to face him. “It’s either you or me, Doctor, and I love you too much to see you hurt like this, when you’ve already been hurt so badly.” Y/N said, resting a hand on the Doctor’s face. She kissed his lips briefly before turning around to face the parasite. “For a thousand years I thought I marked the passing of the Time Lords, and I walked away from the Last Great Time War. I have walked in universes where the laws of physics were devised by the mind of a madman.” Y/N said, glancing back over at the Doctor as she spoke. “I lost things that you will never understand. I know secrets. Knowledge that must never be spoken! Things that would make parasite gods blaze! Go on then! Take it! Take it all baby! Have it! You have it all!" Y/N shouted, a few tears escaping her eyes. The parasite’s tendrils dug into Y/N, feeding on her memories, causing sobs to escape her lips. The Doctor and Clara looked on, horrified, at the state Y/N was in. Suddenly the tendrils retracted, and Y/N fell to the ground, tired and pained. The Doctor rushed to her side, holding her against his chest, and reassuring her that it would all be ok. “Y/N, this city, this planet, might have needed you, yes. But I’ll be damned if they need you more than I do. I… I can’t lose you. Not again.” The Doctor said, kissing her head as he spoke. “I’m not going anywhere, space boy. Not without you.”

Cause you’re the last of a dying breed, wrote our names in the wet concrete. I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me. “Doctor, where are we?” Amy asked, holding Rory’s hand tight as they exited the Tardis. “London, 1953. And, if I’ve got my dates right, which I have, it’s the second of June.” The Doctor said, glancing over at Y/N and the Ponds with a proud look. “You’re doing it again.” Y/N said, giving him an exasperated look. “What am I doing?” The Doctor asked, looking to the Ponds for clarification. “You’re doing the ‘I’ve just been clever, give me praise for it’ look.” Y/N said, causing Amy to let out a laugh. “And you’re doing the ‘he’s sexy when he’s clever’ look.” The Doctor retorted, and Y/N just shrugged. “This is my normal face, Doctor. Come along, Ponds.” Y/N said, causing the Doctor’s jaw to drop. They walked through the city, noticing the immense crowds. “Is today a big day or something?” Amy asked, curiosity bright in her eyes. “Second of June, 1953. It’s the coronation of Queen Liz 2.” Y/N said, winking at the Doctor as she took the words right out of his mouth. "Oh my God!" Amy whispered excitedly, causing Rory to smile brightly. "You two head off into the Abbey. Y/N and I have some business to attend to." The Doctor said, earning a confused look from the Ponds and Y/N. "Ok. You two have fun." Rory said cautiously, glancing over his shoulder occasionally as he walked away with Amy. "What business do we have to attend to, Doctor?" Y/N asked once the Ponds were gone. The Doctor's face lit up with a childish grin, which made Y/N a tad suspicious. "Oh what've you done this time?" Y/N asked as the Doctor took her hand, guiding her through the streets of London. "You'll see, Y/N." The Doctor said. The two Gallifreyans walked hand in hand through the city, when Y/N suddenly stopped. "What is it Y/N?" The Doctor asked, and a smile bloomed on Y/N's face. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like a young Prince Philip?" Y/N said, and the Doctor groaned, rolling his eyes. "Oh shut up." He muttered, causing Y/N to laugh loudly. The conversation between them stopped until they reached their destination. "Here we are! 10 Downing Street." The Doctor announced, and Y/N looked at the building with curiosity. "It's the day of the Queen's coronation. All of parliament will be at Westminster Abbey." Y/N said, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Precisely, so it makes it a lot easier to do this." The Doctor said, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and opening the lock on the gate. They walked through the now open gate, up to the door of the building. Y/N went to open it, but stopped when she noticed that the Doctor wasn't moving. "Aren't we going in?" Y/N asked, and the Doctor shook his head. He simply pulled out his sonic screwdriver once more, and began pointing it at the concrete beside the door. He seemed to be drawing something with it, and once he was done, Y/N immediately noticed what he had created. "Have... have you just carved our names into the side of the Prime Minister's house?" Y/N said, her eyes wide with surprise. The Doctor simply nodded, pocketing his screwdriver. Y/N smiled at him, before grabbing ahold of his lapels and pulling him into a kiss. The Doctor's eyes widened with shock, but he soon found himself kissing back eagerly. "That's the most reckless and wonderful thing anyone has done for me, space boy. Thank you."

I'm here in search of your glory, there's been a million before me. That ultra kind of love you never walk away from. You're just the last of the real ones. "Well, where to now?" Clara asked, bouncing excitedly on her heels. The Doctor let out a short breath, walking up to Clara. "Today isn't going to be a big intergalactic adventure, sorry Clara." The Doctor said, and Clara let out a disappointed sigh. "It isn't going to be an intergalactic adventure, no, but it'll still be an adventure." Y/N said, winking at the Doctor slyly. "And how's that?" Clara asked, her mood picking up after Y/N's comment. "We're getting married today, Clara." Y/N said, slipping her hand into the Doctor's. "Are Gallifreyan weddings all big and long and complicated? Because if so, I may need another cup of coffee." Clara said jokingly, a smile wide on her face. "Not really. All we need is a piece of cloth and the consent of one parties parent's. Since neither of us have living relatives, we thought you might be able to help us out there." The Doctor said, and Clara's eyes widened. "Of course I'll help. Do I have to say anything special?" Clara said, and the Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Just say you give your consent, and that'll be it." The Doctor said, undoing his bowtie. He took the piece of fabric and wrapped it around his hand and Y/N's, giving her a reassuring smile. "I give my consent." Clara said, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "Wonderful, thank you Clara." The Doctor said, and Y/N took in a shaky breath.   "I love you Doctor. I know you've had a fair few companions, and they've all been wonderful people, but I know you've never stayed with them for too long." Y/N said, and the Doctor gave Y/N a sheepish smile. "This love we have is real, and strong, and I will never, ever walk away from it. The universe is full of people pretending to be something they're not, but you are so very real, Y/N. And I love you so much." The Doctor said, wiping away one of Y/N's tears with his free hand. "You may now kiss the bride! Sorry, I've always wanted to say that." Clara said sheepishly, earning a laugh from both Gallifreyans. "Well, we can't leave her hanging, can we?" Y/N said, arching her eyebrows slightly. "Absolutely not." The Doctor said, putting his free hand on Y/N's face. Y/N pressed her lips against the Doctor's, their kiss full of passion and love. They broke apart slowly, with eyes only for each other. Space boy and galaxy girl, such a wonderful match.

[knownconsortofthedoctor]

Verse Masterlist

So this is a very long post therefore I’ve put it under a readmore. These are my current verses all of which are open to everyone

CANON

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1st regeneration tag - v: daughter of the silence This is Melody’s life growing up under the care of Dr Renfrew and the Silence. 

2nd regeneration tag - v: going full circle After regenerating in 1969 Melody was taken to Leadworth in 1991. She grew up with foster parents who were very absent. Her best friends were her own parents. Goes up to episode Lets Kill Hitler.

University Verse tag - v: becoming river song This verse follows River when she’s becoming the woman we know. She’s at university studying to be an archaeologist. It’s the first time she’s been free from the Silence.

Professor Verse tag - v: professor river song After being released from prison River went back to university. She became a professor lecturing archaeology. This verse is for both pre and post library. The majority of threads are post library.

Darillium Verse tag - v: twenty-four years Pretty much what it says on the tin, this verse is for River and the Doctor’s time on the planet Darillium.

AUs

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MOST USED

Stayed Verse tag - v: if she stayed This is AU from ‘The Angels Take Manhattan’ River stayed with the Doctor aboard the TARDIS. They still went to The Pasternoster Gang and stayed there to mourn meaning they met Clara. It means that the plots of the show still go just as they did without River but obviously she’s there too. Open Starters for this verse are here and mostly towards the Doctor.

Returned Verse tag - v: if she returned Following on from 'if she stayed' after River’s twenty-four years with the Doctor she goes to the Library but is very quickly reanimated and brought back to the Doctor. So she travels with him and his companion(s).It means that the plots of the show still go just as they did without River but obviously she’s there too.Open Starters for this verse are here and mostly towards the Doctor.

OTHERS

Mum Verse tag - v: talks with mum or v: mothering river A nice simple verse. My main verse River cannot have children so this verse is for my interactions with OCs (to whom I am very welcome) and also any threads where River discusses having children, is pregnant or has children.

Fobwatched Verse tag - v: fobwatched verse River was as she is in the main!verse, she had gotten out of The Library and for a while The Doctor and she were safe, but then she fell pregnant. The Doctor soon realised that she wouldn’t survive the pregnancy in her current biological standing. They decided that a fobwatch would be the safest outcome. River was meant to be dropped off in Leadworth 2015 and the Doctor would meet her and wake her up, once the pregnancy was over. But something went wrong and she ended up in Victorian England, she doesn’t know where her husband is or who he is, only that he is a good man and will come home soon. She now has a three year old son named Rory and works as a Nanny.

Kovarian’s Verse stockholm syndrome tw tag - v: madame kovarian’s daughter In this verse River did kill the Doctor but she’s not that evil. She just wants to please Madame Kovarian who she has a case of Stockholm Syndrome towards. She is completely dependent on Madame Kovarian and is very defensive if people try to talk against her.

Master’s Verse stockholm syndrome tw, abuse tw tag - v: the year that never was This verse is set in the Year That Never Was, where River is kept as The Master’s prisoner aboard the Valiant. Due to the paradox she sort of lost who she was. River is practically the Master’s pet, she does as he asks when he asks and won’t talk to many other people. She’s been abused by The Master to become this way.

Human Verse tag - v: a human life As the name might suggest River is human in this verse, she doesn’t know the Doctor, she doesn’t know her parents or anything about aliens. She is just an archaeology professor at Oxford University.

Melody Pond Verse tag - v: beloved melody pond This is what would have happened if baby Melody had not been taken by The Silence. She is a normal little girl with Amy and Rory raising her.

Sick Verse tag - v: the doctor’s patient To get out of the Library River was placed in a new body however due to the body being completely new it’s immune system was very weak and soon she found herself unable to go very long without medical help and so she called her Doctor.Now she stays aboard the TARDIS where she is connected to a life support system. She still does archaeological research and writes textbooks instead of going on actual digs. She misses it but knows it’s for the best.

Pond Verse tag - v: melody williams is a superhero This is a very AU verse. Melody didn’t regenerate in New York and turn into Mels, instead she stayed as a very sick little girl looking for her parents and somehow she does finding them in Manhattan.Basically Melody getting the childhood she deserved and Amy and Rory getting to raise her.

SJA Verse tagged - v: sarah jane’s niece Based on this gifset. Knowing where to find Melody the Doctor took her from the Silence, with the help of Jack Harkness and Torchwood, however Melody was still in a lot of danger and so the Doctor felt she was unable to go with Rory and Amy, yet.And so he left her on Sarah Jane’s doorstep with an explanation of what was going on. From then on she stayed with Sarah Jane, Luke and a few years later Skye. She is known as Melody Williams and is known to others to be Sarah Jane’s niece.Amy and Rory are able to visit, and do, as often as they like.

Vault Verse tag - v: stay alive This verse is set in series 10. Instead of Missy in the vault it is River. The Doctor finds a way of saving River and he works out how to do it after reassembling Nardole. He found a way of attaching River’s consciousness and head into the robot that had kept King Hydroflax alive for so long. As it was stated that it was basically built in life support he argued that until he could keep River asleep until a new body had been created.And it worked, almost, River was transferred into the body and it was successful with all memories intact. But she couldn’t sleep, instead she works up periodically and cannot control the robot she has been placed in, that is why she has been placed in the vault. For her own safety, as she has poor health and immune system, and others from the robot.

Sisters Verse (mainly with @madasateacup) tag - v: strength of a sister AU as of Angels Take Manhattan where Amy and Rory didn't get taken back in time and instead continued their life in Leadworth. Soon afterwards they adopted a little girl named Collie. Although originally nervous River soon fell in love with being a big sister. Follows their interactions as Collie grows up.

Doctor Verse tag - v: i am the doctor This AU takes place where 'River' is in the place of the Doctor. She's one of the reincarnations who just decides to call herself River sometimes.

Dark Verse tag - v: dark river As the name might suggest this verse is for a dark version of River. Having gone mad after several brainwashing sessions following the Doctor's 'death' by the Silence River doesn't believe anyone anymore.She killed her way out of Stormcage and now roams the universe bringing havoc and destruction on the people she believes have wronged her.

CROSSOVERS

So I am in a lot of fandoms, chances are if I follow you and you’re not in the DW fandom then yours will be listed here. I always prefer to rp in these verses rather than a crossover verse where there’s lots of confusion.

OUAT tag - v: ouat

HARRY POTTER tag - v: hogwarts

DIVERGENT tag - v: divergent

X-MEN tag - v: mutant xmen

SHIELD/MCU tag - v: shield

THE HUNGER GAMES tag - v: hunger games

PIRATES tag - v: a pirates life for me

VIKINGS tag - v: how to train your dragon

WICKED tag - wicked

LOTR/THE HOBBIT tag - v: elf in middle earth

THE 100 tag- v: the 100

JURASSIC PARK/WORLD tag - v: jurassic world

VAMPIRE tag - v: vampire

POLICE tag - v: di river song

ELEMENTARY (AND OTHER SHERLOCK SHOWS) tag - v: sherlock’s consultant

Z NATION (AND OTHER ZOMBIE SHOWS) tag - v: post z nation

RICK RIORDAN BOOKS tag - v: camp half blood

NEWSIES THE MUSICAL tag - v: seize the day

THE ADDAMS FAMILY tag - v: when you’re an addams

SENSE8  tag - v: last of her cluster

CRIMINAL MINDS tag - v: interpol agent

HOUSE tag - v: house

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Moffat Era Rewatch: Deep Breath

Still struggling with his regeneration, the new Doctor investigates a series of mysterious murders in Victorian London...

Warning: Spoilers Sweetie

Usually you find the dinosaurs inside parliament, not outside it. 

Unless there’s some last minute secret cameo in ‘Twice Upon a Time’, this is the last episode with the Paternosters. Why’d you retire them, Moffat? Why? 

“It's dropped a blue box marked Police out of its mouth. Your grasp of biology troubles me.”

It didn’t at the time, but Twelve with short hair just looks so wrong now. Like a caged beast, it should be allowed to roam free. 

Peter looks so good in Matt’s outfit. Why do new Doctors always look so good in their predecessors outfits? 

“Oh, you've got a dinosaur too.”

“He's not Clara. I'm Clara.” "Well, you're very similar heights.”

New titles with added eyebrows. This was based on a concept by a fan.

“You all sound all English. Now you've all developed a fault.” 

Neve gets to use her normal accent for once. 

“People are apes. Men are monkeys.”

“How do we change him back?” Clara gets a lot of flack for this, because Clara gets flack for simply existing. People argue that she should be more except of regeneration since she knows about it and has met previous Doctors. But I think there’s a big difference between being aware of regeneration and actually experiencing it first hand. Eleven was the first Doctor she knew and as far as she was concerned he was her Doctor. Even when she met other Doctors he was still there at her side. But now he’s gone and there’s this complete stranger in his place. So I can forgive her for being a little selfish here and wanting her Doctor back. 

“I don't like her, ma'am. I love her. And as to different? Well, she's a lizard.”  

Clara says like because she doesn’t want to admit that she feels the same way about the Doctor that Jenny does about Vastra. She doesn’t want to admit that she loves the Doctor. 

“I am alone. The world which shook at my feet, and the trees and the sky, have gone. And I am alone now. Alone.” That is one poetic dinosaur. 

Peter Capaldi is one of those actors who could recite washing machine instructions and make it sound like Shakespeare. 

“He looked like your dashing young gentleman friend. Your lover, even.” Clara’s blushing. 

“Jenny and I are married. Yet for appearance's sake, we maintain a pretence, in public, that she is my maid.” "Doesn't exactly explain why I'm pouring tea in private.”

I feel for set decorators when they have to do stuff like this. 

“Door. Boring. Not me.”

“I am not sure who you think you're talking to right now, Madam Vastra, but I have never had the slightest interest in pretty young men. And for the record, if there ever was anybody who could flirt with a mountain range, she's probably standing in front of you right now. Just because my pretty face has turned your head, do not assume that I am so easily distracted.” I’m not sure who is enjoying this tongue-lashing more, Jenny or Vastra.    

“She was scared. She was scared and alone. I brought her here and look what they did.” 20 minutes in and Twelve is already breaking my heart. 

“What do you all have for brains, pudding? Look at you. Why can't I meet a decent species? Planet of the pudding brains.” 

Couldn’t just walk away, he had to leap into the river. The Doctor is so extra. 

“Military tactics. The Doctor is still missing, but he will always come looking for his box. By bringing it here, he will be lured from the dangers of London to this place of safety, and we will melt him with acid.”

Jenna Coleman was just born to wear period outfits. 

How many of Britain’s most notorious killers has Vastra had for dinner? 

Did Strax get his medical training from the same school as Doctor Zoidberg? 

If this episode was the regular length, this scene, delightful as it is, would’ve been the first to get cut.     

“Deflected narcissism. Traces of passive aggressive. And a lot of muscular young men doing sport.” Since Strax has trouble telling genders apart I’m going to assume that those weren’t all men.    

This tramp is played by Elisabeth Sladen’s husband, Brian Miller.  

“It's good I'm Scottish. I'm Scottish. I am Scottish. I can complain about things, I can really complain about things.” 

“What devilry is this, sir?” "I don't know, but I probably blame the English.”

“Oh, I don't understand why I'm doing this.” "Art?” Jenny is 110% done with your bullshit, Vastra. 

“Advertisements, yes. So many. It's a distressing modern trend.” If she thinks it is bad now wait until television comes along. 

“It doesn't makes sense. He doesn't do puzzles. He isn't complicated. Really doesn't have the attention span.” Clara obviously hasn’t spent much time with Seven. 

This is the first real scene that Peter and Jenna get to have together and our first chance to see just how amazingly they play off each other. They really bring out the best in each other as actors. 

“Well, I would say that that person would be an egomaniac, needy, game-player sort of person.” Probably the most accurate description of the Master ever. 

“Nothing is more important than my egomania.” 

“If I got new hair and it was grey, I would have a problem.” Clara is so vain, it’s one of the things I love about her. 

I doubt this place has any Michelin stars.   

“Do you have a children's menu?” I really don’t want to know what is on the children’s menu. 

“Oh, it's at times like this I miss Amy.” 

I know that he doesn’t actually leave her, but it is still a shock to see the Doctor so casually abandon Clara. 

“Go on, then. Do it. I'm not going to answer any of your questions, so you have to do it. You have to kill me. Threats don't work unless you deliver.” This is one of Clara’s finest moments. Even though she is clearly terrified, she manages to turn the tables on her interrogator and get him to spill the beans instead. 

“Are you trying to scare me? Well, cos I'm already bloody terrified of dying. And I'll endure a lot of pain for a very long time before I give up the information that's keeping me alive. How long have you got?”

“I don't know. But I know where he will be. Where he will always be. If the Doctor is still the Doctor, he will have my back. I'm right, aren't I? Go on. Please, please, go on, say I'm right.” You were right, Clara. 

Twelve’s Theme kicks in at full blast. As much as I love it, it just doesn’t have quite the same blood pumping effect as ‘I Am the Doctor’.  

“Yeah, sorry. Well no, actually, I'm not. You're brilliant on adrenaline.”

“I hate being wrong in public. Everybody forget that happened.”

The squad is here. 

“Your friend is intelligent. He'll know better than to follow me.” You sure about that? 

“I've got the horrible feeling I'm going to have to kill you. I thought you might appreciate a drink first. I know I would.”

Doctor Who is the only show that could get away with having a hot air balloon made of human skin on prime time BBC One.

“Sister ship of the Madame De Pompadour. No, not getting it.” Understandable considering, from his perspective, it has been nearly a millennium since season two. 

“No, it isn't. It's just far away. Everything looks too small. I prefer it down there. Everything is huge. Everything is so important. Every detail, every moment, every life clung to.”

“Question. You take a broom, you replace the handle, and then later you replace the brush, and you do that over and over again. Is it still the same broom?” Better known as the Trigger conundrum. 

“There's not a trace of the original you left. You probably can't even remember where you got that face from.” Moments like this are why I think Peter Capaldi is the best actor who has ever played the Doctor. 

“Self-destruction is against my basic programme.” "And murder is against mine.”

It’s not a proper kiss, but I’ll take it. 

Strax was willing to kill himself just so he would’t reveal his friends. 

That glare still sends a chill down my spine. 

“I don't think I know who the Doctor is any more.”

He’s redecorated and I do like it, especially the bookshelves. Place looks so homely now. 

“I'm the Doctor. I've lived for over two thousand years, and not all of them were good. I've made many mistakes, and it's about time that I did something about that.”

By admitting that he thought he was Clara’s boyfriend he is pretty much admitting that he’s in love with her.    

She doesn’t say it, but she clearly likes the new look.

“You'd better get that. It might be your boyfriend.”

And now we know why the phone was left hanging. 

“...and I think you might be scared. And however scared you are, Clara, the man you are with right now, the man I hope you are with, believe me, he is more scared than anything you can imagine right now and he, he needs you.” Glad I didn’t watch this right after ‘Time of the Doctor’. I would not have been able to go through saying goodbye to Matt again twice in one day.  

“You can't see me, can you? You look at me, and you can't see me. Have you any idea what that's like? I'm not on the phone, I'm right here, standing in front of you. Please, just, just see me.”

The first of many awkward hugs. 

They go for coffee, not chips, so relax Doctor/Rose shippers. No one is stepping on your moment. 

Oh Missy, you're so fine. You're so fine you blow my mind, hey Missy! Hey Missy!

Next Time: Into the Dalek