( Read more... )

So you guys may or may not have noticed, but I suck at finishing WIPs. (Should really be WsIP, I suppose, but that's just ridiculous. WIPs it is.) Part of my problem is that in the last two years or so I've become entirely unable to keep stories within the scope in which I originally conceive them - they just get longer and longer, and while I ( Read more... )

Because I'm very much in a Doctor Who sort of mood today, here's my first three responses from this meme. The others will follow shortly.

I got a bit carried away on these. Feel free to poke me if I sound too pretentious absurd quietly brilliant.

( thoughts on the Ninth Doctor, the Tenth, and one Rose Marion Tyler. )

This is the second entry in a row I'm posting while intoxicated; I swear I am not becoming a lush. It is the holidays, and during the holidays I make brief escapes from social obligations to post nonsense on LJ. BECAUSE I HATE PEOPLE.

Aside from you guys, obviously.

( a fandom meme in which I give at least three conflicting answers to every question. because that is my way. )

Requested by harpinred many, many moons ago.

Warning: This is pretty silly and pointless, even for me. You've been warned.

( Sins of the Flesh )

I promised an awful lot of fic commentaries a few months ago, and I've yet to deliver. Here's a very silly one about a not-particularly silly fic.

This is for amathela  and marissa_214, who wanted a commentary on the first chapter of Do I Twist, Do I Fold. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is precisely what they got.

( The Commentary Begins Here. )

The first of what will be many, many ficly commentaries born of that meme. This one's for
( Read more... )

A recent conversation with 
( Read more... )

A rush of current and he is nightmare blind, falling, drowning in air and the dark. His fingers scrabble for purchase on tattered wallpaper as he hurtles downward through hollow corridors, past doors and rooms forgotten. Then his knees hit wooden floorboards, his palms slap against the wall, and everything stops. For a moment, it is so silent. So ( Read more... )

And in the distance, he hears an eerie, melodic sound - like the creak of the house in the sea wind turned to song. He strides out of the room and down the corridor, following the unearthly noise. As he grows nearer, the voice - for it is a voice - grows clear. Suddenly, he stops mid-step.

The voice is Jack’s, and he is belting a late 20th ( Read more... )