The Holocene Mass Exinction Event

okay, so after kill the moon aired i was texting nonelvis about how AWESOMELY PAINFUL it would be if the doctor took the TARDIS back to before he and clara had their fight and split up, and for completely sensible and plot-related reasons they ended up having to share a bed, and all the while he is thinking, "WHAT AM I DOING WHY DO I ALWAYS MAKE THE WORST DECISIONS" (this is before we realised, no, it is clara who always makes the worst decisions, but i digress). this led to "wouldn't it be great if ten and mickey had to share a bed?" "what about leela and romana?" "WHAT ABOUT THREE AND THE BRIG?" (this is obviously canon).

and then we were both like, WHAT IF THERE WAS A FIC FEST AND WE GOT ALL THE FICS WE EVER WANTED ABOUT DOCTOR WHO CHARACTERS HAVING TO SHARE A BED?

so we made a fic fest. :D

check it out! it's called onlyonebed. prompting opened on monday, prompt claiming begins on dec. 15, and posting begins on february 1 and will go throughout the month, giving us all twenty-eight days of sharing a bed. how romantical!

i already have like three different fic ideas, and given the speed with which i write i doubt i'll have them all done by february first... but i am totally going to try. (and yah, i have been writing fic, got a new one to post very soon, but as usual, it's going under the pseud). please help me make awesome fics happen by leaving amazing prompts and by spreading the word!

oh yah and we are all over the place, so please participate wherever you feel most comfy:

Livejournal
Dreamwidth
Tumblr

please somebody write ten/mickey sharing a bed, and also twelve/EVERYONE.

i am valiantly trying to listen to the latest ep of the "i hear sherlock" podcast because bert coules is interviewed, but i swear to god listening to the two presenters is like being slowly sucked into a bottomless swamp of tedium and despair. they're so boring i'm having to remind the cells of my body to hold their form so they don't just give up and dissolve into a morass of organic mush and soak into my beige office carpeting.

gaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

hi i'm not dead :D

:D

stolen from platypus. much like her, i am ignoring the rules, because I CAN.


1. You can ONLY answer 'Yes' or 'No'

2. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone asks in comments.

3. Flisters may ask you expand on ONLY ONE of your yes no answers each. see rules i am ignoring youuuu


Kissed any one of your Dreamwidth/LiveJournal friends? - only on the cheek! (this question would have a different answer if we were talking twitter or fb though)

Been arrested? - no

Kissed someone you didn't like? - thankfully no

Slept in until 5 PM? - i used to dream of sleeping that late when i worked midnight to noon. my body usually worked against me, though. :(

Fallen asleep at work/school? - yah

Held a snake? - i used to have a pet snake. sometimes i would wrap him around my neck and take him for walks.

( more stuff under here )

it's terrible, but my first thought when watching the broadchurch finale was ( SPOILERS KILLED DANNY MITCHELL )

*looks for fic*

*sees fic summaries on a03*

*immediately stops looking for fic*

guys, not every character ever played by david tennant needs to be fucked by ROSE. her vagina is not going to heal ( hardy's myyyyystery illness! ). it is not magical. i mean, that didn't even work for the one character he played who actually could have fucked rose. it was donna's vagina that fixed him

ta-nehesi coates writes a post called "Why 'Accidental Racist' is Actually Just Racist", which we all know is some kind of irresistible siren song to a certain type of commenter. you know the kind. you've back-clicked from their "arguments" on countless news sites, you've had that extra rum-infused eggnog at thanksgiving to stop yourself from strangling them, etc. the great thing about TNC is he moderates the hell out of his online space, which means actual conversation can happen there. and when those inevitable, inescapable commenters appear, they, for once, don't get coddled. they get, very politely, very articulately, and very definitively taken down.


I have not in fact called him racist. I have called the song racist. You may say that something I have said is stupid or ignorant or mean. You have not, in fact, called me a stupid person or an ignorant person or a mean person.

I strongly suspect that you know this. I do not care what is preferable. I do not write to rescue you from your own need to take offense. I will not make this easy for you. I will not address you as though you do not know the difference between describing what you are doing and what you are.

I will not write for "many white people." Tell them to read a book. This ain't built for them.


it's glorious.

sister [talking to olive]: if you were a little girl, you'd have freckles.
me: ...and a moustache.
sister: ...and small, little beady eyes.
sister: and the slightest unibrow, kissed light by the sun.

well, three years after setting the account up, i've finally decided to start using it. so, here is a cross-posting test. i'll be around both places, so if you enjoy ugly websites, or instead enjoy creepy, badly-designed websites, you'll have equal access! i've got to update some friends-lists and whatnot -- let me know if you're over (t)here, let's be circle buddies and talk about doctor who and kitties and watson's moustache n stuff. <3

my Totally Not At All Batshit elementary theory is: irene adler is alive and is also moriarty; she faked her own death to get away from holmes' terrible wardrobe.

btw, there is a wee kitten on me who REFUSES to let me sit and type in a peaceful or ergonomic manner. her name is olive. ^___^