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The Angel Of the Forever Sleep

Category: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Summary: What happens after the Face of Boe dies.
Warnings: Spoilers for DW Season 3 Episode 4: Gridlock and Episode 14 Last of the Time Lords
Characters: Boe and the Angel, talk of others.
Word Count: 371
Notes: This is based on the title and first line of a song. (Angel of the Forever Sleep- Marcy Playground.) The song is so weird and I've been listening to it for so long that I just got inspired I guess.

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Owen/Ianto short ficlets

These don't have titles yet. The first is a bit of fluff and the second is a little angsty.


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Don't Fear the Reaper Ianto

Catagory: Superwood

Summary: Ianto gets a gift from an unexpected source.

Warnings: Major character death, post-Day 4 COE

Pairings: Ianto/Jack

Characters: Ianto and Jack (Torchwood), Tessa (Supernatural), minor- Gwen, Rhys, OC

Notes: This will still make sense even if you haven't seen SPN!


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Torchwood Pairings Part One

So since this was an experiment, I get to talk about it. First up, I don’t ship all of these pairings. So chill. I tried to get a good mix of fluff, angst, cliché/cheesy, sexy and sweet. I also tried really hard to stay true to characterization and they all take place in the regular Torchwood verse, (no AU except for maybe one).

Some interesting things. I could never get behind the Owen/Ianto ship for some reason but I’m surprisingly pleased at how their fic came out. The most difficult one to write was Jack/Tosh for some reason. It’s not the weirdest pairing but I had an idea of how it could work and it wasn’t translating that way. I wrote a completely different Jack/Gwen fic at first but I felt like I sort of took the easy way out on it so I rewrote it. Anyway, enjoy.


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Sherlock Holmes: A Study In Pencil

So this is it huh. This is my life now and these are my decisions? Here is the weirdest story ever. Enjoy.

Rating: PG
Warnings: Weird
Purpose: None

   Being a pencil may seem boring and ridiculous, but you know that when you start life out as a pencil, you are in for a whole lot of excitement, anxiety and hope. You could be the start of something amazing. You sit in your plastic package, pre-sharpened and bundled with more of your kind, waiting for someone to pluck you out of obscurity and give you purpose. Perhaps you will go to a school kid, working math problems and have your eraser chewed on. Perhaps you will be in some big office of an important official. There is always the option of being forgotten and stepped on, snapped in half and thrown away but you aren't thinking about that. Pencils don't really think of death the way people do anyway, it's just another thing that happens.

  It doesn't really matter how you got to be sitting on the cluttered desk in the living room of 221B Baker Street, all that matters is that you are there now. There is a fellow you rather like, he keeps you sharpened and sitting in your little glass cup with the other pens and pencils. He sometimes uses you to jot down phone numbers and addresses and things. Sometimes you get to sit proudly behind his ear until he remembers you are there, and you secretly like how his hair feels nice and soft and wispy.

  But what you really look forward to is the time you spend with that taller man. The one with the long fingers that wrap around you gracefully and sometimes you get so swoony you might just turn into pulp. He holds you elegantly, yet uses you to scribble furiously, before he forgets exactly what he wanted to work out. You don't understand the things he writes, but you love to look at it. He doesn't use you very often, he can work things out in his own head, but sometimes he needs to convey those thoughts to someone else and the best way is through you and the paper. Sometimes you think the paper is jealous of you. Because it is you and not the paper that gets to be buried in his curls as he scratches his head absently, or tapped against his bottom lip while he thinks. Yep, you're his favorite and just that thought makes the world seem a little better as you snuggle comfortably in your cup and wait until the next time you can help him out.





The Kids Are Alright

My first fic, just something light and happy, wrote it during the holidays.
No warnings
Rating: PG
This occurs somewhere during season 5 but there are no real spoilers or specific placement
Word Count: 4,263


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