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Literature
A Proper Wedding (Part 4 FINAL)
Outside, the Doctor stood at the altar. The sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon behind him, and he looked up at the reddening sky as he straightened his bowtie nervously (actually causing it to go more askew, but he didn’t notice).
The ceremony was set directly behind the mansion, so that the processional could make a proper entrance through the double doors, and so that the Doctor wouldn’t see his bride until it was time for her to walk up the isle.
The music started, and the mother of the bride made her way up the isle. She held her head tall, but all the Doctor could think of was seeing her at her own wedding, which brought a humored smile to his face. She took her seat in the front row of seats.
There were very few bridesmaid and groomsmen – mostly members of this universe’s Torchwood paired with some surprisingly familiar faces. There was Martha Jones being led up the isle. Then was a face that brought a warm wave of nostalgia – good old Sar
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Literature
A Proper Wedding (Part 3)
They were getting married today.
Today, they were getting married.
The thought went through both of their minds in every possible wording and arrangement (and every possible language for the Doctor). And both of them couldn’t help but grin madly at that thought. The Doctor, for one, was so excited that he at one point phoned Rose, telling her that he needed to hear her voice before he ran through a wall to find her. She insisted on him not seeing her before the ceremony, which she reminded him was a human custom. In response to his complaints and begging, she compromised, sitting with her back to a door, him on the other side, and talking with him. Both were giggling madly in their childish excitement.
“You know, there is one thing I’m worried about…” his voice drifted through the wooden door to her.
“What?” she asked, pulse quickening at the thought that something could possibly go wrong.
“I’m too sharply dressed.”
She laugh
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Literature
A Proper Wedding (Part 2)
Suddenly the Tyler house was aflutter with wedding plans. Jackie and Rose bent over books full of color samples and venues, putting post-its (stolen from the Doctor’s never ending supply) on things they wanted to replicate or details they gushed over. Cakes were tasted, caterers were scrutinized, invitations sent to everybody and their cousin.  Pete took Tony and the Doctor to get proper tuxedos (the Doctor initially argued that his blue suit would do just fine, but Jackie practically had a heart attack about it, screeching that it would clash with the color scheme of the wedding), while Rose took her mother with her to look at dresses.
Tony was given the duty of ring bearer, which he took with the upmost of seriousness. After his assignment to the position, he was often found with his bed pillow held ahead of him, walking slowly and deliberately up and down the halls. The rings themselves the Doctor said he would take care of, retreating again to his TARDIS at any opportuni
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Literature
A Proper Wedding (Part 1)
“Properly.”
She was forced to put down the plate she was drying in fear it would slip through her fingers in her surprise
He was watching her wash dishes, sitting backwards in a kitchen chair with his chin atop his interlaced fingers. They had been discussing this and that, not really anything important. They had the rest of their lives to discuss important things. They’d decided without saying it out loud to space them out a bit.
Apparently, he’d decided it was time to drop an important thing into the conversation.
It’d been a week or so. Enough time for her to lose track of the exact time to the second and start counting in minutes. She figured he was still counting in nanoseconds or gallifreyan seconds or some other miniscule measure of time. This is how much time we’ve been together. This is how much time since we realized we’d have the rest of our lives together.
She laughed, hoping he couldn’t hear how her heart was pounding
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Literature
Omegle - Sherlock reuinion
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You and the stranger both like Sherlock.
You: I'm not dead. Dinner? -SH
Stranger: Is this supposed to be a joke? -JW
You: I know you're angry, John. I can explain everything. -SH
Stranger: Then start explaining. -JW
You: Three snipers. One for Mrs. Hudson. One for Lestrade. One for you. It was Moriarty's endgame. Three snipers and one way to call them off, John. I had to do what I did. -SH
Stranger: But, how are you alive? -JW
Stranger: I saw you die. I even checked your pulse. -JW
You: Molly Hooper, mainly. And good luck and a bit of pre-planning. -SH
You: A rubber ball clenched in the armpit blocked the pulse in my wrist. A bit of sedative to make the fall easier and Molly to fetch me in the mortuary afterwards. -SH
You: It wasn't perfect. I did nearly die- first of blood loss and then almost again from infection. Molly nursed me back to health in one of the labs. -SH
Stranger: You could have told me, you know. You didn't have to li
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Literature
Wholock Omegle funtimes
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You and the stranger both like Sherlock, and Wholock.
You: Eh, oh! Is this how it works? Hello, is Sherlock there? -D
Stranger: Who is this? -SH
You: Oh, don't be obtuse, it doesn't suit you. It's the Doctor! We've met, right? Or did I get too early...? -D
Stranger: I had an imaginary friend called the Doctor when I was younger...This wouldn't happen to be Mycroft, would it? -SH
You: No, I'm not your mean older brother. It's the same one, the one from when you were little. Hello! -D
You: If you want proof, the first time I met you, you were dressed like a pirate. You called me 'Matee. We looked for treasure the whole afternoon, after you helped me find an alien fugitive in your back shed. -D
Stranger: That's impossible though. -SH
Stranger: You're not real. -SH
Stranger: There's no such things as aliens...I made it all up...-SH
Stranger: Didn't I? -SH
You: What's that phrase you like so much? When you've eliminated the impossible...?
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Literature
Wholock - GFLB prologue
Gone, Forgotten, Left Behind
Wholock
Prologue
The door opened. The woman looked up to see a worn, tired John Watson half-limp, half-stumble out.
A cheery voice called out from the room he had just vacated. "Same time next week, John! Remember to call if you have any more 'episodes', hm?"
John turned, leaning against the doorframe to give the man within a polite smile as an answer before closing the door behind himself.
The woman was clever enough to wait for the door to be closed and John to continue a few steps before she spoke.
"Another rough session?" She spoke in a half-whisper, still wary of the man behind the door. She offered a warm smile to John, who returned it with a weary yet grateful one of his own.
"Aren't they all rough?" John sighed as he more fell than sat in one of the chairs near the woman's desk. He motioned at the chair vaguely to the woman. "You don't mind if I…?"
"Feel free, sit as long as you'd like," The woman nodded, "Rest that leg of yours."
"Ah, this dam
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Literature
Doctor Who- Save us
What would you do?
No. Don't answer. Because you wouldn't do what I would. You don't have the same rules I do. You don't know, you CAN'T…
What would you do?
Really.
I hate them. More than I hate anything else in the universe. More than any creature can ever hate anything…
Wait. I lied. There is one hatred stronger than mine.
It's the hatred they have for me.
For me. For anything not them, really, but especially for me.
The Predator, they call me.
At first I was insulted.
And then I understood.
Because I hate them.
And that hate, the hate that stems from theirs, that hate pushes me to destroy them.
To hunt them.
I am their Predator.
What would you do?
I'm not prepared for this. All of my morals are pulling me different ways. My moral to always respond to one phrase. My moral to destroy them like they destroyed my kind. Like they destroyed my home. My family, my friends, my entire planet lost.
Because of them.
I'm supposed to destroy them.
It's up to me to destroy them.
What wo
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Literature
Sherlock - Lava
"JOHN!"
The army doctor hit his head on the bottom of the sink. He swore, rocking out of his position. He'd been fetching a bottle of cleaner from beneath the bathroom sink when he'd heard the shout. After a moment to curse his flatmate's horrible timing, his mind began running through all the worst-case-scenarios and all of the ridiculous things Sherlock could be doing simultaneously.
"What?" he called, rubbing the back of his skull. "Sherlock?"
"JOHN I AM IN NEED OF IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE!"
"What!" Watson yelled, peering out of the door and trying to pinpoint the location of the shout.
"FOR CHRISSAKES JUST COME HERE NOW!" The shout came from Sherlock's room.
John moved as fast as his throbbing head and spinning vision would allow, keeping a hand on the wall to balance himself.
"What is it?!" he called, fumbling for the doorknob. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. His fingers found the knob and he threw the door open, his eyes searching for whatever trouble the consulting detective
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Literature
Sherlock- Just a fling
"You mean four."
The man's black eyes snapped open. They flicked towards the blonde man and observed him dangerously – a predator observing prey. Prey who just questioned his right as a predator.
"What did you say?"
"You said three," the other man said around a cigarette. "You meant four."
"Do you think I would say something and not mean it? If I said three I meant three."
"This morning you said you'd put a bullet through my skull for waking you up."
"And I have every intention to as soon as the motivation hits me," the man pressed his palms into his eyes, sighing. "So, you think four. Go on, enlighten me. What've I missed?"
The sniper leaned over the edge of the couch, looking down at his boss. "Your ex. Thought you might want to do it yourself, least of all have one of us lackeys do it for you. I've got a few exes I wouldn't mind, hehe, you know. Bang."
Jim stared straight up at the ceiling, not acknowledging the man who leaned over him. He was too preoccupied with the words the
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Literature
The Pond Departure- Recovering
The TARDIS could be lonely sometimes.
Okay, so a space the size of a city full of twisty turney corridors and only one person to occupy them? Yeah. It got lonely a lot.
Add to that the fact that the Doctor had lost not one, but two companions in the past 48 hours, the loneliness became almost tangible.
Not that he'd notice. Since telling River how her parents had been lost he'd been mostly numb. So numb that he had just taken off and decided to drift aimlessly through the space-time vortex as he sat in one of the chairs by the console.
So numb that he didn't notice the yellow flashing light on the console. He didn't even acknowledge the little mental nudges the TARDIS was sending him every few seconds.
In fact, it took the ringing of the cloister bell to break through the numb fog. The sound initiated an instinctual panic and need to figure out how to fix his one constant companion, and he leapt to his feet practically reflexively. He ran to the console, pressing his hands against it a
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Literature
The Pond Departure- The Angel
Air ripped at his throat as he gasped more and more of it in and out of his screaming lungs. His feet pounded into the ground, the rubber treads of his boots digging into the linoleum and propelling him forward… fast, faster, but would it be fast enough?
It had to. He had to be fast enough. There wasn't another option.
He forced himself to go faster.
His mouth opened, ripping in another ragged gulp of air which he propelled back out as a scream. A single word. The most important word. A word that at the moment meant more to him than the entirety of the universe itself.
"AMY!"
He rounded a corner, bouncing off of a wall in the quick re-direction of momentum. There was the door at the end of the short hall, barely twenty meters away. Through that door, Amelia Pond turned towards his cry. Her eyes were wide, her flaming hair framing her face as she looked at the Doctor- sprinting towards her at full speed.
Her eyes softened as she recognized him.
He was ten meters away.
Her lips curl
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Literature
The Pond Departure- Aftermath
It'd been ages since she'd gotten a visitor. She was beginning to contemplate another breakout just to pay the outside world a visit. Well, a visit and an opportunity to cause some havoc, just to tide her over until the next time she'd hear the rise and fall of engines echoing through the cement halls of the Stormcage Facility.
In fact, she was just planning out the final details of her escape as the familiar sound reached her cell.
A smile played on her lips as she soaked in the noise with closed eyes. And then she shot off of her bed, rushing about to get ready.
As she primped herself in a small, square mirror on her wall, she thought idly that he'd landed quite a bit further away than he normally did. Perhaps he'd missed… again. She didn't pay it much mind.
She also recognized he was taking a long time to come to her door. She'd finished primping a few minutes ago, but continued to mess with her curly cloud of hair idly just to give her something to do. Eventually she sat down
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Literature
Wholock Omegle
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You and the stranger both like doctor who.
You: The Doctor stuck an arm out of the TARDIS doors, grabbing the short blonde man and pulling him inside.
"Doctor Watson! Long time no see. What year is it, now, 2011? 2012? Anyway, gonna need you to come with me, a bit of trouble with your flatmate…"
Stranger: LOL can i hear more?! sounds brilliant !
You: haha, it's supposed to be an RP prompt, but i've got a bit of a story going in my head. Shall I just continue it?
Stranger: ahah i know what it is, buut yeah please do :p
You: Okay, might be a bit, I'll type as fast as I can =)
Stranger: no worries (:
You: The army doctor stumbled, grabbing onto the stranger for support. At the moment, he was in too much shock for the 'fight or flight' instinct to kick in, so he just stood there trying to get his bearings as the strange man ran to the center console of his vehicle. As the Doctor pulled levers and typed furiously into a typewriter see
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Literature
Sherlock- The Empty House Epilogue
Epilogue
Things took time, as they always take time. As much as everyone longed to settle back into the lives they'd once known as soon as was possible, there were innumerable things that kept them from doing so.
Lestrade had gone straight to work with both the arrest and trial of Colonel Sebastian Moran as well as the paperwork of bringing a dead man back to the legal world of the living. Between the two, he was spending nearly every sleepless night at the Yard and driving himself halfway to crazy digging up the evidence that Sherlock kept pointing out for him against Moran in a way that would be a) legally obtained and b) relevant to the case against the sniper. Eventually, against Sherlock's requests (borderline begging as the officer got closer to his final decision), Lestrade contacted Mycroft for help. Of course, as soon as the job of Sherlock's paperwork was handed off to Mycroft (who immediately passed the job to one of his lackeys), it was taken care of before the day was out,
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Literature
Sherlock The empty house ch 5
DISCLAIMER: do not read if you haven't seen the Reichenbach fall. No, really. I'm serious, don't do it.  For reals. Legit. You still reading? Good. Have fun, and enjoy the Season 3 opening concept thingamajig.
Watson stared into the florescent lights, hovering in the dazed half-consciousness of one who just awakened. The moment when dreams and reality mix and blend to the point where differentiating between them is near impossible. He contemplated the strange yet wonderful dream he'd just had. He'd gotten shot by Moriarty's right-hand man. But then Sherlock had been there. Lestrade, too, but mostly Sherlock. He'd been… alive.
What a wonderful dream that was.
Why did his shoulder hurt?
A head of wispy blonde hair leaned into his field of vision. Mrs. Hudson's tired face offered him a genuine smile. She was crying.
"What's wrong?" Watson asked, reaching up his right hand (it was closer, and also his left arm let out a shot of pain as he tried to lift it) towards her.
The w
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He lived alone.
For some reason, Dr. Watson didn't trust him—there was something about each awkward movement, some extra twitch, that laid heavy in his instinctual conscience.
The platoon was marching down the road, reddish dust swirling around their boots. He was on the right exterior, where the Captain guarded the flank and made sure that none of the young men decided to goof off suddenly. They were disciplined, but a walk down a calm street brought the youth right out of them.
The doctor's eyes scanned across the village front. The sun was bright and beating overhead but there was some shadow swelling in his mind, if only he could tell what it was.
He took a glimpse at the ground—
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Two Years Ago...
Two Years Ago...
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Sherlock

Sherlock was on a tall building. He realized it was St. Bart's. He also realized he was already falling. As he did, his lips were moving, forming words.
John. Mycroft. Lestrade. Mrs. Hudson...I'm so sorry.
There was a rushing sound in his ears as the ground came up to meet him.
He woke with a yell, sitting bolt upright. A cursory glance around told him he was still in his brother's flat, still in the guest room. His elbows rested on his knees, and he could still see the scars on his left arm.
"Jesus," he hissed, burying his head in his hands. His heart was going about a hundred miles per hour. He took slow deep breaths, feeling how ragged they were.
Count to ten. Again. Count to ten. Again.
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blueskysummer
Rachel
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
I'm a geek, a fangirl, an author-to-be, an artist, and pretty much whatever else occurs to me at the time.

I can't think of anything else witty to say at the moment. Have a good day.
Interests
Hello. Letting y'all know I'm not dead, so that's good. School's officially out and I'm headed down to Georgia for college in the fall. Hopefully I'll be able to update some of my old fics, or add some new ones for anyone still watching.
Stay shiny, y'all.
~Blue
  • Reading: Much Ado About Nothing
  • Watching: Supernatural

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:iconlilicartman:
liliCartMan Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2017  Hobbyist
hello ^^ did you spend a nice birthday?!   :D
Reply
:iconlilicartman:
liliCartMan Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2016  Hobbyist
Happy birthday miss!  :cake:
Reply
:iconrobinlightwalker:
RobinLightwalker Featured By Owner Sep 7, 2015  Student Writer
Hie.

Long time no seen.

Then again,that is what happens in life.
Reply
:iconxxsilentfangxx:
XxSilentFangxX Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2014
Happy Birthday!!!!:party:
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:iconlilicartman:
liliCartMan Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2014  Hobbyist
hello and happy birthday! :-)
Reply
:iconfreyad-dryden:
Freyad-Dryden Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2014
:dance::boogie::boogie::dance:
:iconhappybirthdayplz::cake::party:
:iconisaydanceplz::iconisaydanceplz::iconisaydanceplz:
Reply
:iconkimberleephotography:
KimberleePhotography Featured By Owner Mar 22, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
My dear, I have read almost all your Sherlock stories and they are brilliant! But why have you not finished "The six fine pearls" stories. I have read the sign of four and am very interested in your take on it!!!!

Much Love!
Kimberly.
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:iconblueskysummer:
blueskysummer Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I'm so happy that you enjoy them! I'm always thrilled to hear it =)

I have the unfortunate ailment of ADD and a flighty Muse... I actually have the next chapter almost done. I can try to move onto that and finish it after my current project - a RoseXTentoo wedding fic to go with someone's fanart that I've been procrastinating too much on already. Thank you so much for reminding me of Six Fine Pearls, and I'll do my very best to get the next installment up ASAP!
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:iconartseeker217:
artseeker217 Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2013  Student General Artist
:airborne: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! :airborne:
:cake::cake::cake:
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:icontfafangirl14:
TFAfangirl14 Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2013
happy birthday!
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