FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• When you came in the air went out.
And every shadow filled up with doubt.
I don't know who you think you are,
But before the night is through,
I wanna do bad things with you.

I'm the kind to sit up in his room.
Heart sick an' eyes filled up with blue.
I don't know what you've done to me,
But I know this much is true:
I wanna do bad things with you. •

He could tell the moment the Doctor walked in the room. It was like the air left his lungs, left the area around him, left the whole bar. Everyone turned and stared at the tall, trenchoat-clad stranger stepping in from the spaceport.

"Was wondering when you'd show up," Jack said, downing another shot. He had a long line of them already empty in front of him, and a few dozen more to go before he died of alcohol poisoning (his preferred method of death since he arrived in this galaxy).

"Oh, I always show up, haven't you figured that already?" His voice was different, and Jack turned his head slightly to the side to watch as the Doctor dropped into the seat next to him.

He looked the same. Same messy hair, same shouldn't-be-as-attractive-as-it-is skinny body, same blue suit. But it was his eyes. They were something Jack always liked about the Doctor; his eyes. They were different now, definitely different. Wilder.

It was a sobering change.

"What do you want?" Jack demanded, reaching for another shot.

"You," the Doctor replied.

Jack downed the shot easily and leered drunkenly at him. "Well, why didn't you just say so? I've got a room upstairs. Died there a few times already, might as well die a little more, if you know---"

"Not like that," the Doctor said, though his look was more amused than anything else. Almost smugly amused. It wasn't something Jack remembered settling so naturally on the Doctor's face.

"Then how?" He reached for another shot, but the Doctor's hand was faster. He caught the small glass and pulled it away from him.

"You're depressed here," he said. "Feel like you've failed Earth. Your team. Your family. That boy---what was his name?"

"Steven."

"Steven, that's right. All of them." He knocked back the shot.

Even in his drunken haze, he knew this was not right. This wasn't how the Doctor acted. But he was right.

Jack swallowed. "Yeah."

The Doctor tilted his head to the side, a bemused and curious expression on his face. "Did you know the 456 were a fixed point in time?"

"Kinda figured that when you didn't show up," Jack said, his voice bitter. "Could've used your help." He was angry at the Doctor since it happened, though he hadn't wanted to admit it. He was angry because of the decisions he'd had to make. Angry because of the people he loved that had to die. He was too drunk to hide his anger, and he knew it.

The Doctor smiled at the anger, like it was a good sign. More than a good sign, a tool. "But I was there, Jack. And so were you."

"What?" He shook his head. "I was there, you---"

"Am one trip away from that place in the TARDIS." He nodded back to the door. "And you are, too. What do you think? Go back, change the universe? Save your friends?" His eyes almost glowed in the dim barlight. Bright and wild, full of confidence Jack wasn't sure he should have.

"That would be crossing over my own timestream," Jack said, shaking his head as if that could possibly clear the drunkenness. "You said that's dangerous. Really dangerous. Universe-ending dangerous."

"I changed my mind," the Doctor replied, and he sounded irritated by Jack's words.

"So suddenly it's not-so end of the universe?"

"Not if I don't want it to be," the Doctor said. "I can change it on my own, but it's up to you to save your friends. To save that Ianto Jones of yours."

At Ianto's name, Jack's head shot up. Save Ianto? He couldn't, could he? Maybe he---but what if---

"It's a paradox," Jack said. "I'd be going back to---"

"Already been taken care of." The Doctor said, slipping from his seat and heading for the door as if a decision had already been made. "I've invested in a paradox machine for these sort of problems."

Jack couldn't think of any paradox machine in the universe besides the TARDIS, but the Doctor wouldn't put the TARDIS on the line like that---would he? The Doctor Jack knew wouldn't insist that changing a timeline or even creating a paradox was a viable option.

But the Doctor Jack knew also abandoned him on Satellite Five. The Doctor Jack knew abandoned Earth during the invasion of the 456.

And he could save them. He could save all of them. All of the people he couldn't save before. He could stop the pain before it began. And the Doctor said it was possible. More than that, he was giving Jack a free ride there.

"Coming?" the Doctor called.

Jack picked up another shot, downed it, and then got to his feet. "Lead the way, Doctor."

His companion smiled. "I don't go by that name anymore."

Muse: The Doctor (Valeyard)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 809

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• This is the hardest story that I've ever told
No hope, or love, or glory
Happy endings gone forever more
I feel as if I'm wasted
And I'm wastin' every day

This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together. •

"Who buries him?"

"That's a rather morbid question."

"Think about where we are, Doctor."

It's the Doctor that throws him. Not Stringbean or Sugarpuff or whatever ridiculous nickname she's conjured up. It's not a common thing for her, but today isn't a common day.

"A captain named Jean-Luc Picard. Fairly famous in his own right. It's all written down in the history books, I can find them for you if you want," he says.

"No thank you." She tugs her sweater around her shoulders and looks back to the TARDIS. "Can't we go back? See him again? Just once."

"You know we can't."

"Please, just to see---"

"Dorothy, I'm sorry." He puts a hand to her shoulder. He wants to be comforting but even now, even after he's been with her for over a century, he doesn't know how.

She turns and leans into his chest, but doesn't cry. He wraps his arms around her. Two immortals going through life is one thing, but when they make a mortal friend, it's another. He wanted to go back, of course, back to his own ship. And who wouldn't? The Doctor understood the appeal. And he was a good man.

Was.

Everything is in the past tense in his mind, now. It should be in the present. He should always think of people and things happening at once. He's stopped that, and he can only believe it's because of the people he travels with. They don't think on the same timeline.

They visited.

He aged.

They visited again. And again. Sometimes their meetings were very far apart, sometimes there were only days in between.

They don't feel the years. He does.

And now they're here.

James T. Kirk
2233 – 2293(2371)

It's a plain grave on a small, rocky planet.

"The end of one journey," he says. He breaks away from Dorothy's embrace to place some Xuxxuxian Firelilies next to the plaque. It will take sixty years for the cut flowers to wither. Not unlike Jim.

"I think I'm ready to go home," she says.

He looks up at her. "Home?" he asks.

"Home."

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 352
Based on RP with galeforcehero and willrevile

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
If you can use some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away •

"What the hell drink was that?"

"Pan galactic gargleblaster. Delicious, aren't they? Get you a bit intoxicated after a few, of course."

"And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Drunk?"

"Probably." When he says probably, he attempts to lean casually against the side of the TARDIS and ends up slipping, very nearly falling flat on his fact.

She laughs, at least. But she's been keeping up with him and the number of drinks he's had, so she's probably just as far gone as he is, if not worse. Once he straightens up, she leans over and presses a kiss to his mouth.

"What was that for?" he asks.

"I wanted to see if I liked it," she replies, smoothly. Her voice is high and tinny, but still sounds smooth and seductive.

"And what did you decide?"

"I don't know yet." She leans in again and kisses him more firmly. He responds this time, though it's hardly his best kiss. He's far too intoxicated for it to even really be a decent kiss, but when she pulls back, she looks pleased.

"It's even better when you help," she says.

He smiles. "You should use that some day, Betty."

She nods to the blue box. "You gonna invite me in?"

He wants to. He's just intoxicated enough and she's attractive enough that it seems like a good idea. But he can't, he knows he can't. He makes a face.

"Sorry."

"You've got a wife waiting for you?"

He looks at the TARDIS and can practically feel the rage rippling off of her. She does not appreciate being a support to him or her while they snog. "Something like that."

"I don't mind wives, you know. Never stopped me before."

"And it probably won't in the future."

She smirks and slips out of her heels in order to walk home. "If you need me Steve, you just whistle."

He has no idea where she got the impression his name is 'Steve', but he still grins stupidly after her as she walks away. He fumbles with the key to the TARDIS and pushes the doors open. Inside, he can definitely feel the irritation of his ship, far stronger than just out of the doors. He can imagine if she was humanoid, she'd be standing there, holding a rolling pin and glaring. As it is, the room is stuffy and hot with her temper.

"She's gone, you don't have to be this way." He tosses his coat to one of the columns and it misses completely. He sighs and half-stumbles towards his bedroom. The walls are ice cold from irritation and he pats the coral.

"You know I wouldn't bring her here. I've got far too much respect for you." His words are slurred from the alcohol, but he's absolutely convinced of them.

The emotional pressure at the back of his mind is really unconvinced of his words.

"I don't know why you're so jealous," he says, tugging off his tie and shirt once he gets to his bedroom. There are a few lipstick stains on his collar and he makes a face. "A little jealous, maybe. But not this jealous."

She huffs again and the floor is icy cold once he kicks off his trainers.

"I always come back to you, you know," he says, dropping back onto the bed. The covers are warm, at least. She knows he needs to feel safe when he sleeps, and she doesn't deny him that.

If she were a woman, though, he imagines she'd be sighing with exasperation.

"We'll go somewhere tomorrow," he promises. "Gatritico! Or Niamar 5! Lovely worlds, no population. It'll just be the two of us, TARDIS. We'll get away from it all."

He feels no pressure of emotion against the back of his mind, and he imagines that's her way of saying she'll think about it.

He curls up under the covers (having completely forgotten about his trousers, socks, or the fact that he hasn't taken a shower) and closes his eyes, the drunken suptor turning quickly to drunken slumber.

"I love you, TARDIS," he mumbles. Even when sober, she's the only being in the universe he can say that to without incredible difficulty. They've been together too long, they know each other too well. He loves her even when she sends him to the wrong planet and she loves him even when he snogs humans.

He feels a gentle, comforting pressure, and he imagines she's bemusedly replying the same thing.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 747
Use of Lauren Bacall not authorized by Lauren Bacall.

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• I’m gonna say what I need to say,
in my very last letter to you,
cuz you always made it clear,
said that you’d never be my pain.
So here’s to you when you cried baby blues
And just paused a cool to refrain
And you said she was satisfied
and this body’s just waiting to die
and I could listen sometimes
but you said its alright
its just a whole lot harder alone. •

Lucy---

Lucy Saxon---

Mrs. Saxon---

He gives up and tosses the note into the bin by his desk. It's been months since he's seen her on the Plane, he's not even sure why he bothers. It's been good, being apart. He's grown closer to Brigitta, River, even people he's only just met on the Plane. It's better that she's away.

But now…

He is certain the end is coming. His death. He doesn't know what he does or who knocks for him, but he knows it's coming to an end.

He looks down at his hands. They're good hands. Little freckles and hairs all over them and the bones at his knuckles stick out, but they're good hands. He can't even imagine regenerating them away.

But his song wouldn't be ending if he was just going to regenerate. Funny. He always imagined he had at least a few more regenerations in him.

Still. That's the trouble with regeneration. You never quite know what you're going to get. And if he's right about the things people see about him, he's not going to get anything anymore.

He looks at the crumpled up letter. She made her choice. Probably wouldn't even notice if he died (when he dies).

It still doesn't feel fixed. It doesn't feel concluded.

He doesn't want her back. Not really. Maybe a tiny bit, but not enough for him to act on it. But he wants---

He wants to say good-bye. He's said good-bye to Sarah, Brigitta, Dorothy, and the Master, he's still working on saying good-bye to his Companion and Jack. He's passed on the notes he's taken to a superhero who should be able to continue his work. He's done. he needs to stop worrying about it.

But Lucy---No, no, Mrs. Saxon. He hasn't seen her. She doesn't know.

Unconsciously, he drops to the Plane.

She isn't there, of course. Silly thing to think. River would probably slap him for thinking something like that (and River's slaps are really, really unpleasant). But she's not here and he can't think of what to write in a letter to leave her.

She's content with her half-life with the Master, so she'd never seek him out. She doesn't know.

He drops back to the TARDIS and cleans up the letters before heading back to the console room to make a few final repairs.

Everything's ending soon, for him. And she doesn't know.

It's better that she doesn't know.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 413
Based on rp with shatteredqueen and others in realityshifted

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• Come on and dance with me
I want my arm about you
That charm about you
Will carry me through
Right up to

Heaven
I'm in heaven
And my heart beats
So that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find
That happiness I seek
When we're out
Together dancing
Out together dancing
Out together dancing
Cheek to cheek •

"Dancing," she says.

"Dancing?" he asks.

"Don't tell me you don't know what that is. Cause I'll just throw a dictionary at you and find someone else to take me."

"No, no, I know. Just…where?"

They go where she wants, first.

It's a dingy club in Los Angeles with smoke hanging in the air and young bodies gyrating against each other while loud music bangs through the clearly unsynchronized speakers. People dance in tight clothes and ridiculous high heels and he feels terribly out of place.

He doesn't dance these sorts of dances so he fixes the speakers and stands to the side.

She dances alone for a while, and then drags him onto the dance floor, wrapping her arms around his neck and moving against him. He awkwardly tries to keep in step.

"Seems all your boasting was shit," she says, her lips twisted into a smile that is clearly supposed to be condescending but sits on her face in a way he decides is very pretty.

"Not these sorts of dances," he replies. "This is more public sex and less dancing."

"Fine then, Doc. Show me dancing."

They go where he wants, next.

It's a starlit club off of Robeath and Coreterigi Minor where everyone dances very formal, intricate waltzes. He wears a tuxedo, she finds a floor-length silver dress and cuts the slit on the side up to her hip when the one already on it isn't nearly short enough for her tastes. They fit in beautifully, but he can tell she already feels out of place.

She doesn't dance these sorts of dances, so she heads to the bar and orders something she can't possibly drink and stands to the side.

He dances with a Tereleptian princess for a while, but eventually he steps back to her and takes her hand. She follows, but she can't quite figure out where to put her feet.

"Left," he says. "Right. Back. Simple rhythm. It's just like---"

"Fighting," she says. He thinks she's thinking about the choreographed fight moves in movies, but she's really thinking of the repeated steps she's learned from years as the Slayer.

"I was going to say 'dancing'." He spins her out, and pulls her back into his arms.

She grins that crooked smile again and when the music starts anew, she dances without any hesitation or errors.

"It's the same thing, Doc," she says. "I just don't think anyone's danced with you the right way."

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 412
For faiththatfuelsu. I PROMISE I WILL PUT THAT RP UP RIGHT AWAY *shame*

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• All this feels strange and untrue
And I won't waste a minute without you
My bones ache, my skin feels cold
And I'm getting so tired and so old

The anger swells in my guts
And I won't feel these slices and cuts
I want so much to open your eyes
'Cause I need you to look into mine

Tell me that you'll open your eyes •

Jack was born in 5070 century on the Boeshane Penninsula.

Jack will die in the year 5,000,000,056 in the city of New New New New New New New New New New New New York.

He doesn't die now.

There are timelines.

There are timelines and the Doctor will preserve them.

He holds the syringe of morphine unsteadily in his hand. He's not a doctor but he knows, in theory, that this should work. It should.

But then again, Jack shouldn't be dying right now. He should not be this close to death. He shouldn't be having a heart attack of all things. Of all things! It's too simple, too mortal. And Jack is immortal. This may not be how things should be, but it is how they are.

He takes a breath and presses the tip of the needle against Jack's chest. Into the heart. Just do it, Doctor. Quickly, don't stop. Save Jack's life.

He doesn't die now.

Time doesn't snap into place around Jack like it should. Time doesn't seem to move around him like he's wading in fluid. Jack is not who he should be and right now, right now Jack is dying. Open your eyes, Jack, he silently wills him. Open your eyes. Live. For me, Jack, please.

He doesn't die now.

The Doctor takes a breath and rams the needle through. It resists against flesh and muscle, but once it's about deep enough, he pushes the drug through. Morphine dialates the blood vessels and it should stop the heart attack. It should. It should work. It has to work. Jack doesn't die now. He can't die now. He can't die now because the Doctor saw him die in the future. He can't die now because the Doctor can't function in this half-memory state alone. He can't die now because---because---

Jack's eyes snap open and he takes in a deep, labored breath.

"You have to get back to the TARDIS," Jack says, his voice raspy and pained. Stupid bastard, caring more about the Doctor than himself. The Doctor could kiss him right now, but he has a feeling that's not a good idea while he's in his state.

He puts an arm around his shoulder. "Not without you." They've still got a long way to run, and the Doctor isn't about to leave him behind.

Jack doesn't die now.

Timelines aren't the only reason the Doctor is keeping it that way.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 406
Based on RP with quitehomoerotic in this thread.

FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.

• Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
If you can use some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away •

She lives a hard life.

He can tell, because she doesn't talk about the things she does, she just does them. Does them, and then grins over at him with wide eyes that are much too innocent to possibly be genuine.

She tells him she's died before.

She tells him she's killed before.

The way her voice stays calm and unwavering shows him that she's neither ashamed nor surprised by her actions. He immediately wants to dislike her, but he can't. Even when she follows him around on the Plane, demanding things be explained and asking him questions he doesn't want to answer. Despite everything, she's verymuch like him. Very very like him.

He thinks he might love her. But not like a lover, surely. More like a wonderful child, one who admires him while he occasionally dotes and frequently neglects her. Much like the other children in his life.

"You should travel," he tells her while she hovers over him and one of his experiments.

"Where?" she asks. It's not a question of why with her. He's probably right, she decides that on her own. She simply accepts that this is how the universe is and she is the only way she can be. She also accepts him for who he is, even if he frustrates her at times.

She's younger than he is, but he often thinks he can learn a lot from her. She's not really a child, and she's certainly too old for him to neglect. She cares for herself. She's strong enough on her own.

He decides it might be time.

"Anywhere," he says, holding the door to the TARDIS for her.

She grins, and it's as if a light has gone on in the dark Plane. She beams with the brightness of a thousand suns, and not one of them are false. He likes her best when she is not false. And he can't help but grin back.

And there they are, two old and lonely killers grinning at each other in the middle of an impossible machine.

It's wonderful.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 346
Based on RP with oldoldghost in realityshifted

I have been told that lately things have been a bit depressing.

Actually, I think what I was told was:

[12:35] dickensfan63: I've just been feeling a bit down lately.
[12:41] thedothatgirl: You got a serious case of emo that you got to snap out of. Write about the things you like before you end up with a shitty haircut and I have to kick your ass for trying to steal my eyeliner.

So here are the things that I like.


• I like bananas and banana-flavored candies, especially if they're also banana-shaped.

• I like running down corridors, especially ones that are particularly twisty.

• I like the burbling noise of the TARDIS in mid flight.

• I like it when "funny" robots actually do something funny, like fall down a crater or say something terribly inappropriate that embarrasses their creator.

• I like talking very fast to people who can't catch up.

• I like debunking the references on incorrect Wikipedia pages (This, especially, after losing one week, four days, and thirteen hours to that ridiculous website during my sixth incarnation).

• I like the "sarcasm circuit" I've added to the TARDIS translation systems, because while it may create a very natural vernacular for most species, it makes talking to the most literal ones downright comical.

• I like it when people walk around the TARDIS in a great big circle (dubbed "pulling a Chesterton") to see if they can figure out why it's bigger on the inside.

• I like it when politicians are confused by the things that I say, completely lose their train of thought, and look incompetent (especially because they probably are).

• I like it when guns don't work. Just in general.

• I like it when companions ask me why we don't have things in the fridge, and then we go to an exotic place to eat.

• I like the term "Allons-y", especially when used after 2422, when French is abolished in the universe.

• I like trying to go somewhere and missing the mark completely, because wherever I've landed is no doubt more interesting.

• I like materializing in front of really bad traffic jams and how astonished everyone is when I get there first.

• I like going to particularly posh clubs and getting in with the psychic paper and all of the very fussy people there who can't understand how I got in.

• I like how there's always one bartender at the particularly posh clubs who thinks everyone else is absolutely ridiculous and will give me free drinks.

• I like doors that say DO NOT ENTER and buttons that say DO NOT PRESS because really interesting things happen when you enter and press them.


And those are just a small number of the things that make me happy.

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 459
Special thanks to faiththatfuelsu for use of her Faith and help with Faith's IM dialogue.

You know those days where you get into a mood and decide to drive until you end up somewhere interesting? No? Is that only me? Anyway, I'm working on navigating my way home today, but I did not bring my computer. I should (should!) Be home by tonight!

Sorry for the unexpected disappearing act!

And, even though the Doctor doesn't celebrate the American Thanksgiving...

The I'm Thankful For meme // Give Thanks!

Follows this.

It was one thing, watching your companion be ripped apart.

One very terrible thing, mind you, but one thing. The Doctor stayed prone on the ground, the sound of Jack's death screams ringing in his ears as that thing, whatever it was, tore him into several unpleasant pieces. It reminded him of the Year That Wasn't, of Jack's screams while the Master tortured him and the Doctor's frail body keeping him from helping. That was torture, far more brutal than anything the Master's tools could produce.

Once the loud stomps of the creature faded away, the Doctor struggled to get to his feet and limped to the place where Jack had been.

It was another thing, having to find his body for it to regrow.

It took some time to find his upper torso, limp and lifeless. It didn't take too terribly long to drag said upper torso to a safe, empty cave not far from the forest's edge (after all, what Jack no longer had in height, he also lost in weight. It didn't take long for time to start snapping around him and his body to start to regrow.

That was something else all together. Muscle and bone formed out of nothing, and while Jack wasn't coherent, he was still alive, screaming and thrashing as he reformed. The Doctor pressed his fingertips to Jack's temple and tried to take away the pain, but when that failed, he pressed his mind into a quiet, comatose state.

While Jack repaired, the Doctor covered him with his coat and sat, waiting. For all that they'd fought, for all that the Doctor swore he'd never want Jack back on the TARDIS again, he did care about him. He wanted him happy, even if he wasn't certain he could handle having him so close. Jack was willing to die for the Doctor, and this was just another example of how he could.

But the Doctor wouldn't leave. Not this time.

Thank you so much for all of the wonderful nominations over at arpea_awards. I can't say how much these nominations mean to me. No, I mean, I literally can't say. I have an alien attached to the back of my brain and I've completely forgotten how. Just know how thankful I am! &hearts &hearts

I'm superexcited to see so many realityshifted muses nominated this year! It's such a wonderful community and everyone there just blows my mind with their talent.

Go vote! I love the setup for these awards, and I'm especially excited over the layout for the writing awards. Writing should be based on content, not the popularity of the writer! Have fun, enjoy yourselves, and I hope to see you all on the proverbial red carpet!

For the Doctor only:
- Best Hair
- Most Handsome Male
- Choice Hero
- Choice Anti-Hero
- Choice Veteran Muse
- Choice Male Canon Character

Pairings:
- Choice Cutest Couple/with galeforcehero
- Choice Funny Couple/with quitehomoerotic
- Choice Should-Be Couple/with everybody_lives
- Choice Doomed-From-The-Start Couple/with shatteredqueen
- Choice Canon Couple/with ambitious_woman
- Choice Crossover Couple/with galeforcehero
- Choice Female/Male Couple/with everybody_lives
- Choice Male/Male Couple/with quitehomoerotic

Groups:
- Best Enemies/with handysparehand
- Best Enemies/with savagestime
- Best Friends/with brigadiertardis
- Best Love Triangle/with shatteredqueen and savagestime

And for the mun:
- Most Valuable Player
- Choice Angst Writer
- Choice Smut Writer
- Choice Overall Writer Of The Year

Also, very near and dear to my heart are two nominations for my Martha Jones muse (imnot_hisgirl):
- Choice Cutest Couple/with handysparehand
- Best Working Relationship/with handysparehand

Post your three favorite fics of all time you have written for your muse. Give links, a 1-2 sentence summary, and any current season spoilers/warnings that you might need for new readers.

Ugh, not easy. I've been writing the Doctor for a very long time and I do my best to only post things I'm really proud of. Here are three biggies, though. And none of them are co-stories or co-written stories, even though those would go into the top three. These are just me.

06/15/07 - Dancing at the Sugar Shack. Prompt was: Today is Guest Stripper Day at the Sugar Shack. You will be spending one shift stripping, waiting on tables and greeting customers. Have a good time. I'm really genuinely proud of how it turned out, and I love Big Jake so much I'm planning on using him as the protagonist of an original novel I'm writing.

01/09/08 - Tension. (Some sexual innuendo.) Prompt was: What is the most erotic thing anyone has ever done to you? I was particularly proud of this one because a) It was written based on one of my most favorite RP sessions ever, and b) because it was one of the sexiest things I'd managed without any actual sex involved.

06/09/08 - Not One Line. Prompt was: "Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that's how we've got to live." Haruki Murakami. I wrote this in about six hours the Sunday after "Forest of the Dead". Yes, yes, I've been Joss'd on the whole mini-verse (Or is it Moff'd?), but I'm still really proud of how it turned out. It's my little headcanon, anyway. &hearts

What are your favorite stories by me?