bluecastle: (watson)
So yesterday I started thinking about writing some Sherlock|John where they are very close, but not sleeping together. To try and see what that looks like. It was just a fleeting thought that I jotted down to explore later.

But when I got to work this morning, the first line of this little not-quite-a-drabble popped into my head and I started writing. I want to do more with this, but here's my 90 word morning's inspiration:

“Don’t take the piss with me. You’ve got to be shagging him.”

John smiled into his pint.

“So everyone says,” he replied, eyes twinkling.

“So you’re…” Lestrade floundered, his face asking what he seemed unable to vocalize.

“Happy?” John asked pointedly, swallowing down his pint and signaling for another.

“Bloody Hell,” Lestrade muttered.

John took pity on Lestrade then.

“Shagging. No.” John said, adding, “Is there a word for people who are more than mates, and less than lovers?”

“Hell if I know.”

John snorted.

“Yeah. That works” and laughed.

This entry was originally posted at
bluecastle: (bookmarks)
Hey LOOK I wrote a bit of Holmes/Watson. Not sure where it came from, but here it is...

A Wonder and a Mystery
Author: [ profile] valancy_joy 
Word count: 100
Prompt: gloves
Pairings/characters: Holmes/Watson
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: in which Holmes finds Watson momentarily perplexing...
bluecastle: (ianto pinstripe)
Title: Heated
Rating: PG for dark themes.
Notes: Written for [ profile] tw100  Challenge 157, Heat.
Summary: doing what must be done, no matter the cost, is what Torchwood is here for.

I'm not sure whether I'll expand this at some point, but I've been mulling over this story idea thanks to this set of comments...

He stood in cold storage, watching the temperature dial creep upwards. He ignored his hangover, concentrating instead on what the Brigadier had said to him in the smoky shadows of that London pub.

"Sometimes we have to do the things that they cannot do for themselves..."

Ianto wasn't about to feel guilty for killing someone who had caused Jack so much pain.

"Your brother loves you," he said to the man lying before him. "I don't have that luxury."

He tasted copper in his mouth as he turned and walked away, leaving only the sound of his footsteps behind him.
bluecastle: (Default)
should have been doing other things, but this is what I did instead:

Title: Team Pet
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Gwen, Andy
Rating: G
[ profile] tw100  Challenge: #156 Team Pet

Andy knew there was something those black-ops-but-not wankers weren't telling him as he idly wandered around the Plass trying to figure out what it was that Gwen had seen and he had missed.

"Your stray cat is back, Gwen," Ianto said, pointing at the CCTV feed.

Jack’s voice floated down from above, “I’ve always been fond of a ginger tom.”

Ianto looked up and found Jack’s eyes and smiled as he said, “We do what we do to protect blokes like that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gwen said softly to herself as she brushed her fingers across the grainy image on her monitor.

bluecastle: (jack vest)
Sparked by watching some heat lighting flicker above me, I more or less wrote this in my head during the drive home from rehearsal last night ...

Title: The Devil’s in the Details.
Word Count: 100
Characters: Jack, Owen
Rating: G
Prompt: Written for the [ profile] tw100  Challenge: Gone Fishing

The alien ship hangs on the horizon, glowing phosphorescent yellow. Soundless lightning arcs against the roiling clouds, illuminating the holiday camp in flashes of light. There had been screaming, and running, but now a stunned hush has fallen as small groups huddle together, necks craned, watching the skies as people are plucked from the Earth by smaller vessels trailing long metal tentacles.

“When you suggested a fishing trip, Jack, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind!” Owen yells as he leaps from the SUV.

“Details, details,” Jack mutters as he punches buttons on his wrist strap with shaking fingers.
bluecastle: (ianto pinstripe)

(I sort of fell off the 7 Deadly Sins wagon... but I had a brainstorm and this is what emerged)

There’s hungry, and then there’s hunger. A kid who’s grown up on the dole, a teenager scraping by as best he can on his own, a refugee from terror. Take him up, give him the things he’s never had. Ready money. Abundance. The company credit card. So when his job is buying the food, his secret pleasure is buying the best of the best. Even cannibals can’t stop him from hungering after the finest cut of steak. It’s not compensation, but when there are no limits, the heart dares to dream, and his dreams are ripe, and he is replete.

bluecastle: (Default)

Title: Torpor
Sin: Sloth
Character: Owen
Word count: 100
Rated: PG

He lay there, drowsy, half-awake, eyes shut, fingers tracing random patterns over his bedmate’s skin. He listened to her soft even breaths as he buried his nose into the hair at the nape of her neck. His phone chirped. A summons ignored, he pulled the sheet over their shoulders. Half awake, she stretched, and then rolled over. He knew he should go, but chose to remain, safe, warmed by the body heat of this nameless woman. He never bothered with their names. In his head, they were always Katie.

bluecastle: (Default)

Title: Sins of the Flesh
Character: Jack
Sin: Lust
Word Count: 100
Summary: On the battlefield, no deaths are small. Written for week 2 over at [ profile] tw_lucky_7 .
"We mustn't," Juan whispered, the flush of his cheeks hot against Jack's lips. Jack's hands, tangled in warm wet shirt linen, stilled even as he pressed closer. "So beautiful," Jack said softly. His heated breath brushed across the sensitive contours of Juan's ear and Juan gasped before winding his fingers into Jack's hair and clumsily kissing him. Jack gently lowered the man in his arms to the grass. And there, in the shadows of a summer night beneath their downed airplane, he held a dying man in his arms, kissed away his fears, and filled his final hours with passion.

bluecastle: (Default)

So I came home from work today, and a drabble wrote itself...

For: [ profile] tw_lucky_7 

Title: Whisp
Author:[ profile] valancy_joy 
Sin: Pride
Character: Gwen
Word Count: 100

“You did it,” Rhys said to her as she lay in the delivery room, damp with sweat, holding their child in her arms. And exhaustion could have been her excuse for the wanderings of her mind. But all Gwen could think of as she lay there gazing down upon damp, downy hair, were all the people who would never see this child. There had been so much death. She heard the dark whispers in her mind, “you were the one who had someone left to live for…” and the nurses saw the rosy flush of shame but called it pride

tw drabble

Jan. 18th, 2010 01:35 pm
bluecastle: (Default)
Title: As I Sit Here, Pen in Hand, Searching for the Words…
For: TW100 challenge #136 – Fire and Ice
Characters: Ianto Jones
Rating: PG

He found himself slipping, falling, ice slick and fire hot. He didn’t know where he was supposed to put these thoughts, this man, these feelings he never expected to feel. It wasn’t that his reality was shifting. He was very much in touch with cold hard reality. But he was MORE now. More, different, not better, really, just sometimes as he watched, his mind wandering to places previously undreamed of. His fingers itched to explore, and his dreams became even more jumbled than before. Glorious and terrifying, this breathless new way of wanting, this unbidden desire he could not control.
bluecastle: (Default)
Have had severe lack of writing mojo lately. I don't want to say Children of Earth killed it ... but it may have kicked it in the shins a couple dozen times.

Combine that with being really busy with theater over the last weeks, and I've been pretty tapped out. Truthfully I still am. But I'd been mulling over this week's TW100 theme -- FROBISHER, and so I finally sat down and banged out 100 words on that doomed fellow. It remains to be seen if the words are any good in combination with each other, but it's something, right?


Elsewise, I am trying to figure out what to do with my weekend as the parentals will be in Pittsburgh for my mother's school retirees conference (which ought to be super fun with the case of vertigo she's be dealing with this week). Maybe I'll take a drive somewhere and look at leaves. Or maybe head over the mountain to the town of my birth to snap some photos.

Or maybe I'll just stay at home and play with some of the stuff I got for an upcoming online mixed-media class I'm taking that focuses on paint and ink techniques. I grabbed most of what I need last night at Michaels, although I am waiting till next week's coupon to get the heat gun.

Happy Weekend everyone!

bluecastle: (Default)

Clearly, I haven't been keeping up with these... but after some twittering in which beaches and Boeshane and surfer movies from the 60s were mentioned... this is what I came up with last night. Pure fluff... but when can't we use more of that...

"You call this a beach?"

"What else would one call the spot where the water and the land meet, Jack?"

"You'll never get me to believe this rocky piece of shoreline is a beach. Beaches have sand. Beaches have sun. Beaches have people enjoying the sand and the sun. Now where I grew up it was..."

"Yes?" Ianto asked, eager for anything Jack was willing to tell him about his past.

"Well, let's just say that there is a sad lack of anything resembling beach blankets on this land-masquerading-as-beach."

"The blankets were your favorite part, weren't they?"

Jack just smiled.

bluecastle: (ianto pinstripe)

“Ianto, stop cleaning that.”


“I’d rather finish, Sir.”


“You’re not going to talk about this, are you?”


“Would you hand me a bin liner?”


Tosh said that you said…”


“I wasn’t at my most objective, just at that moment. I’ll put it in my report.”


“I’m trying to help.”


“You don’t call saving our lives in a most dramatic manner helping?”


“Only if you wanted to live.”


“I’ll be in first thing tomorrow, Jack. You can help me unload the SUV, yeah?”


“Bright and early, Ianto.”

And Jack watched as Ianto went to incinerate the contents of the Hub fridge.

(this has sort of been done to death I know, but that's what came out of my brain today.)


bluecastle: (ianto pinstripe)
No, Jack.
Ianto. You know you want to.
Still. Not. Happening.
Why not?
Not a child.
Never said you were.
You are.
Never said I wasn’t. Your point?
Do I have to have one?
Not hardly.
Could be.
Why should I?
It’d be nice. Say you will.
What’s in it for me?
You know.
Aside from that.
Don’t think. Just say yes.
I like to look before I leap.
It’d be a shame to miss it.
Would at that.
So is that a yes?
It’s not a no.

Yeah. So I don’t know what this is actually about. But I could hear them bickering in my head.
bluecastle: (iantonothappy)

been down with a headache for most of the day, but the minute I slack off from committments I've made to myself they all fall apart. So here's today's 100 words.


“Well there’s no use your being such a bitch about it.”

“Rhys, love…”

“Just shut it, Gwen.”

“I can’t just go, not like this.”

“Why should this time be any different?”

“I’m trying to tell you why…”

“Maybe I’m tired of your explanations.”


He stared at her for a long moment before asking, “Well, are you going or aren’t you.”


“I’m not leaving until we talk about this.”

“Just because you want to talk, doesn’t mean I want to listen!”


As Rhys slammed out of their flat, Gwen was left wondering in the kitchen, watching her phone blink simply, “Torchwood.”

bluecastle: (jack look)

Just down the hall from the firing range, is a mostly un-used classroom with cold war era maps on the walls, and a large wooden desk at the front next to a chalkboard filled with a complicated series of equations. Jack sometimes notices Alex standing in the room, staring at the equations, trying to make sense of them.


Some time in January of 2000 the blackboard is wiped clean.

But sometimes as Suzie wanders the Hub late at night, she sees Jack standing in that room, staring at an empty blackboard, and running a shiny metal chain through his fingers.

bluecastle: (ianto pinstripe)

Lying there warm and dozy in the darkness, head pillowed on Jack’s chest, he found himself asking a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

“What does it feel like, the glove?”

Jack shifted beneath him, “What do you mean?”

Ianto’s hand found one of Jack’s and he twined their fingers together as he asked, “What does it feel like to have the power to bring someone back from the dead?”

Ianto wasn’t entirely surprised when Jack grinned, rolled Ianto onto his back, and slid down between his legs with a cheery, “Well, let’s find out shall we.”

bluecastle: (tosh)

(I don't care if this is canonically possible. It's a match made in heaven)
It was puppy love at first sight when Tosh first met K-9.
From the first waggle of those metallic ears, and the synthesized "WEL-COME TO-SHI-KO" she was mesmerized.
Weeks later, Ianto thumped a heavy package down next to her desk in the Hub.
"Special delivery from Ealing, Tosh."
The note inside read, "Here's a little present to thank you for all your help. Best, Luke."
They found inside the box a half-sized replica of K-9 with the letters Q-T stenciled on it's side.
"Hello Q-T," Tosh crowed, kneeling next to it.
Q-T's ears waggled enthusiastically as it responded, "GREE-TINGS MIS-TRESS." 
bluecastle: (Default)

Jack stood there, far in the background, under a shady tree. He watched the simple funeral service. He watched as the mourners paid their respects and left. He knelt next to the gravesite as dusk was shadowing the tombstones of the little cemetery. He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Ianto standing next to him, holding a white rose.


“May I?” Ianto asked, gesturing towards the grave.


Jack stood, and took a step back before nodding once.


“To lost loves,” Ianto said, as he knelt and placed his rose upon Estelle’s grave.
bluecastle: (jack look)

Jack fell to his knees in the mud, and dug in his pack for the laudanum. With a swirl of water from his canteen, and a deep breath to still his shaking hands, he cradled the wounded soldier in his arms.


“I’m here, Alun. Shh… drink this, and don’t try to talk.”


“I’m sorry, Sir.”


Jack helped him take another gulp of the pain killer from the tin cup.


“Hey. You’ll be up and about in no time.”


“Look after yourself, Sir,” the soldier whispered as he smoothed Jack’s lapels.

The battle raged, as Jack watched his batman slip away.

a/n: apologies for the depressing nature of this... I simply went where the prompts led me...



bluecastle: (Default)

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