Welcome to the Mind TARDIS! ON HIATUS!!!



nobody could be angry at leah! not even scary bbc man with the power to crush 16-year-old girl’s dreams. (this reply was a lot better in my head, where it was read in the voice of rhod gilbert and written in italics)

Thank you Polly :D I read it in Alan Rickman’s voice for some reason…


could be angryyyyyyy

at leaaah…

10, 5, 3

10 - I’m on your blog often

5 - your Tumblr is amazing

3 - I love your Tumblr

FEELING THE LOVE TONIGHT!!!! Thank you so much sweetie!! :D

Hello, and I'm sorry if I'm late. I've seen your adorable/amazing/brilliant fics around, and I'd wish for you to write one. I'm not sure if you like the idea, though, so feel free to ignore it if you don't like it. I have a phase in which I want to have Fem!Sherlock/guy!John or Guy!Sherlock/Fem!John. Meh, just an adorable ficlet would be wonderful, but then again many don't like just partial gender swaps. ;___; I'm sorry!

(Hello there! Don’t be sorry, sweetheart – I like genderbends! They give another perspective to the fandom. The only thing I don’t like writing is rape, and OC, because I can never think of names for my own characters. Anyway, enough rambling!! Thank you so much for the prompt – please don’t be shy or sorry! I hope you like this!)

The woman was stunning. Black hair waving to her shoulder-blades; ruby red lips pursing deliciously at her Martini; long, skinny legs crossing under a ridiculously short purple dress. She was fascinating, beautiful, wonderful, brilliant. John gulped. She might be beautiful and all that, but she was totally, incredibly, WAY out of his league.

Or so he thought.

Those long pale legs were walking in his direction; the neat dress slipping into a chair next to him; the red lips purring into his ear: “Hello.”

John licked his lips. “Hello.”

Lestrade gawked at the two of them. Lucky bastard, he thought. Stamford just took a long gulp of his beer and caught the DI’s arm, steering him away towards the bar. John and the woman were left alone at the table, the music on the speakers pulsing quietly around the pub. The woman grinned.

“Sher- uh… Sherie.” she extended a manicured hand towards John.

“John Watson, hi.” John smiled and shook the hand. Cold.

Sherie beamed. “So, what do you do?”

“I’m a doctor.” John boasted. “I was in the army too.”

“Impressive.” Sherlie smiled.

“Thanks.” John bowed his head slightly. “I also work for the police.”

Sherie’s smile twitched. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m kind of a detective.” John grinned.

Sherie smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile any-more. “I see. Well, in my opinion, the police are incompetent idiots.”

John blinked. “What?”

The woman seemed flustered. “Oh! Oops. I didn’t mean- not you, I mean. Other people. Like Anderson.”

John frowned. “How do you know about Anderson?”

Sherie opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her hair out and peering at John through seductive half-closed eyes. “You’re very handsome.”

John still seemed suspicious, but he smiled anyway. “Thanks. You’re- ahem- very very beautiful.” he blushed slightly.

“Thank you!” Sherie grinned.

“What do you do?” John asked.

“As a job?” Sherlie looked around the bar quickly. “I’m… a truck driver.”

John blinked. “Really?”

Sherie nodded. “Yes. A very good one too. Like I bet you’re a good doctor.”

John grinned, but didn’t reply. There was something incredibly strange about this woman. He looked at her more thoroughly. Strange indeed. She reminded him of Sherlock, for some reason. Her eyes were a light grey, like Sherlock’s. Her hair was the same colour, her skin the same shade, and even her lips had the same curve as – oh God. Oh God. WHAT.

“Sherlock?” John frowned.

Sherie seemed even more flustered. “Wh-Who?”

“Sherlock Holmes.” John looked straight into the woman’s eyes. “Do you-”

“John.” Sherie’s voice wavered, like she was holding back laughter. “Don’t freak out.”

John’s jaw dropped. “SHERLOCK?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

Lestrade and Stamford looked round at his shout. John reined in his anger, glaring at the woman. Man. Sherlock. God. He put a hand to his forehead. This was… moronic, at best. 

"What the Hell happened?" he growled. 

Sherie shrugged. “It’s an experiment, John.” he glanced down at his breasts. “In fact, I’d say it went rather well…”  

I really enjoyed the drunk!Sherlock prompt. Could there be any more? Or maybe some drunk!John. Thanks a lot :). x

(Thank you very much! Glad you liked it. Of course there can – and why not both? Enjoy!)

“AH AH AH AH STAYIN’ ALIVE, STAYIN’ ALIVE!” John and Sherlock warbled on the karaoke, missing the irony of that song altogether.

“Guys, I think you’ve had enough.” Lestrade patted them on the back, taking the microphones away from them and setting the things down on the bar. He tugged the two drunks to the table, where they sat giggling.


“Yes, Jaaaawn?”

The two of them started giggling and couldn’t shut up for about five minutes. The Scotland Yard team exchanged glances. The lot of them were in Angelo’s restaurant, drinking after a hard day’s work at crime scenes. John and Sherlock had been there since about midday, having solved the case in five minutes and waiting for the rest of the team to catch up.


“Yes, Sherrrrlock?”

“Y-You have b-beaufi- beautiful eyes.” Sherlock swallowed, trying to get the words out.

“And so do y-you.” John beamed. “C’mere!”

He threw an arm round Sherlock’s neck and pulled him in for a quick kiss, pulling back and giggling. Sherlock laughed loudly, but the Yard group stared at them, and three of them pulled out their phones, recording the moment.

“Guys, you’ll have to be a bit quieter.” Donovan glanced nervously at Angelo, who was very politely ignoring the men.

“So?” John slurred. “Hey, hey, I wanna make a toast!” he stood up and raised his glass. Sherlock did the same, wobbling slightly on his long legs.

“Sit down!” Lestrade hissed.

“Shh, shh, Greg, one sec, one sec.” John cleared his throat. “Here’s to S-Scotland Y-Yard and their uninfallible crime s-solving abilities!”

“It’s ‘infallible’!” Sherlock corrected.

“Same thing. CH-CHEERS!”

The Yarders shrugged and toasted with him.

After about ten minutes, Angelo was forced to chuck them out of the bar for real this time – much to the relief and joy of the Yard team and YouTube. They wandered out into the street, staggering about.


“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Sherlock yelled back.

John considered the question. “I DON’T KNOW!”


“YAAAAAY!” they high-fived.

“Good God.” Lestrade put a hand to his face. Anderson patted his shoulder sympathetically.  


Just your friendly neighbourhood consulting fanfic writer! ;)


Is this dubstep snuggling?



can’t believe leah actually turned up in a fez today to get her results…

Who says I’ve stopped wearing it?

A and Z!

A – My current OTP

Johniarty (John Watson/Jim Moriarty). I just have a lot of feelings for them.

Z – Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go

Okay so the other day I was scrolling through my dash when SUDDENLY a wild hate post came from no-where! I read it, getting more angry by the second, and I just kind of shouted at my laptop for ten minutes. Luckily I was home alone, but still. Can I say one thing? People should be able to ship what they want! This is the one thing that gets me really angry when I’m in a fandom. I don’t care if you love or hate Elementary, New Who, fanfics or fanart. But I will get angry when someone says “you can’t like that ship” or “god I hate this ship” or “this ship is canon and yours isn’t hahahaha”. SHUT UP. Ship what you want, people!

/epicluna out/

Prompt: Avengewho. The Doctor meets Steve Rogers and learns how he woke up in the future after being frozen in ice. The Doctor decides to do something nice for Steve – he goes back in time and tells Peggy to get her butt into the TARDIS; she’s going to the future!

Prompt from the brilliant hyodesion.

Thank you so much! Sorry this took so long – loads of distractions today. I hope you like it!

“So you’re Captain America?”

“That’s right.” Steve smiled.

“Wow! I’m a big fan of yours!” the Doctor beamed. “I’ve read all your comics! I’m your number 1 fan!”

Steve smiled awkwardly. “Thanks!”

Agent Coulson glared at the Doctor. He was the number 1 fan, not this strange alien! The Doctor ignored him and continued gushing about Steve. They were all stood in Avengers HQ, waiting until the Doctor’s TARDIS was repaired – she’d crashed not ten minutes ago, and was smoking horribly. Tony Stark was currently pottering about inside with a gas mask, tinkering with various components and wondering if he could fit the Hulk into the machine. He probably could.

“Doctor, this is your machine!” Tony called. “Why aren’t you fixing it?”

“It’s a time machine, we’ve got all the time in the world.” the Doctor smiled. “Besides, it’s not every day you meet a real live superhero! Apart from the time I met Batman. Strange fellow. Kept growling at me.”

“I’m flattered.” Steve smiled.

“Good! Now then, I have to ask – are the rumours true?”

“What rumours?” Coulson asked.

“That the Captain was frozen in ice for almost 70 years. I’ve seen my share of improbable things, so it wouldn’t surprise me.” the Doctor perched on Tony’s desk.

“It’s true. I watched him thaw out.” Coulson seemed rather proud.

“That’s really creepy.” Tony poked his head out of the TARDIS, still wearing the gas mask.

“I mean, I was on duty in his room. 24 hour surveillance.” Coulson stammered.

Steve looked away from them and muttered something about army guidelines. The Doctor just nodded, and the three of them stood in silence for a moment, listening to Tony welding something in the TARDIS.

“So, Captain, have you got a girlfriend or a boyfriend or something? Bound to be someone worth saving!” the Doctor asked.

“He’s got me!” Tony yelled over the noise of the welder. Coulson glared at everyone. Steve turned red.

“I-I had this girl, Peggy, back in my time. Beautiful dame. Woman, sorry, woman.” Steve muttered.

“What year?”


The Doctor’s eyes sparkled. “Mr Stark, are you finished in there?”

“Almost, just-” the TARDIS powered up, and Tony laughed happily. “She’s set to go!”

The Doctor patted Steve on the shoulder. “Back in a jiffy!”

He bounced into the TARDIS, shoving Tony (politely) out, and they materialised out of sight. Coulson glanced at Steve.

“What’s a jiffy?”

No-one had an answer.

The TARDIS reappeared three minutes later, and the Doctor hopped out, a giant grin on his face.


“Yes, Doc’?”

“I’ve brought someone to meet you.” the Doctor looked back at the TARDIS interior and motioned for someone to step out. He jogged over to the three men and stood behind them, watching happily. A gorgeous woman stepped tentatively out of the machine, looking rather shell-shocked, but she remained composed, her pale skin glowing slightly redder in the light of the TARDIS. Her dark eyes swept over the room.

“This is…” she began.

“The future!” the Doctor grinned.

Steve stared at the beautiful woman – her hair was the same chestnut brown as before, her eyes as dark and deep as ever. She was stunning.

“Hello, Peggy.”

Peggy’s eyes flicked to Steve, and she gasped silently, a single tear drop running down her face. “Steve…”

Steve strode forward and picked her up in his muscly arms, hugging her to his chest. Coulson and Tony glanced at each other. Steve set the woman down, smiling at her.

“You came back!”

Peggy said nothing. She pulled her hand back and punched Steve on the arm, frowning. He gasped.

“What was that for?!”

“You’re late.”

technicolortardis replied to your post: Prompt: technicolortardis (Megan) and the Eleventh…

asdfghjkl i love it omg and it mirrors one of my favourite moments from the series where Donna begs the same of Ten when Pompeii fell omg *hug*

Glad you liked it! :D *hug back* I thought you’d like an angsty Eleventh ;) 

Prompt: (this has probably been done before, sorry...) Jack Harkness meets the Ponds!

(Not really a Pond-y story, but I hope you like it anyway!! Thank you for the prompt!)

To say that Captain Jack Harkness had lived forever would be impossible. Improbable. Unthinkable. But the fact remains that he has lived longer than any human being in the world. At one point in his life, he travelled with the notorious Doctor, an adventure which led to him being resurrected permanently. Never moving. Never dying. Captain Jack was stuck, on his own, waiting for the Doctor to return.

But he knew a few tricks. He’d survived on his own for ages in the 51st Century as a Time Agent. Why should it be different here?

He also knew that the Doctor wasn’t alone. He knew there was more than one version of the Doctor, running around the Earth with various companions. Various people who would eventually leave and break hearts on both sides of the TARDIS door.

So he did what he could to help the companions. Because he knew exactly what leaving the Doctor was like.

For Rose, it meant slotting cruise tickets through the letterbox for her mum. For Martha, it meant putting a coat round her shoulders when she was sick. For Donna, it meant bringing Wilf home when he fell asleep without a blanket on the hill. For Sarah-Jane, it meant being that mystery mechanic who fixed her boiler and made her a cuppa on the side. And lastly, for the Ponds, it meant a very special wedding gift.

Captain Jack had dressed in his best suit and bowtie (to honour the Doctor’s latest regeneration), and he smiled to himself as he sauntered up the steps to the chapel. The wedding of Rory and Amy Williams was a low-key but exuberant affair. The bride was beautiful as ever in her long white gown, the groom looking handsome right beside her, the biggest smile on his face. Jack wondered if you could injure yourself smiling – Rory was in serious danger if you could. A flash of blonde hair walked past Jack, and he instantly recognised the woman from other timelines. He quickly walked behind her, and they stopped behind the chapel.

“Who are you, and why are you at my parents’ wedding?” River Song didn’t seem angry, just curious.

“Captain Jack Harkness. Lovely to meet you.” he winked.

“No time for flirting. I’m married.”

“Oh? To who?”

“Never mind. I’m assuming you know about the Doctor?”

“Used to travel with him. I’m kinda acting as a companion guardian angel type thing – I help those who travel and get left behind… like me. Not that I like to boast, of course.” Jack grinned.

River Song almost looked sorry for him, but she smiled and handed a blue book to the Captain. “Here. Give this to Rory and tell him to give it to Amy. You’ll have helped more than you know. I’ll do the rest.”

“I’ve already got them a present!” Jack held up a small box wrapped in silver paper.

“This is better.”

“Better than a Cluestergram from Planet Spra? You wish!”

“Just take it!” River Song growled.

Jack grinned and took the book, slotting it under his arm and giving River a salute. “Will do, ma’am.”

River just tutted and walked back in front of the chapel, obviously to get into position. Jack hurried after her – and bumped into Rory, coming out of the entrance.

“Sorry!” Rory mumbled, but his smile didn’t slip.

“Nah, don’t worry. Here, take this.” Jack pushed the book towards Rory with a grin. “Give it to your wife soon. Oh, and this-” Jack handed him the wrapped Cluestergram. “-is even better. Ciao!”

Jack sprinted away from the befuddled Rory. He caught a glimpse of Amy, who was laughing with a few of her family, and smiled.

The companions deserve the best lives possible. And Jack could make that happen.

I totally ship Miguel/Tulio.

Prompt: Sheldon argues with The Doctor about how he can't possibly be a time lord?

"Sheldon…" Leonard frowned. "Why is there a cupboard in the living room?"

"A cupboard?"

"Looks like one. It’s a big blue box, in the middle of the room, right behind you."

"Oh. I didn’t notice it." Sheldon glanced at the strange thing, then back at his laptop. "Look! I reached level 83!"

"Congrats." Leonard rolled his eyes. He looked closely at the TARDIS, walking all the way around it. "It’s big, isn’t it?"

"Mm." Sheldon nodded. He got up and examined it too. "A British Police Box from the 1940s. It must have teleported here – or materialised."

"And how do you know that, Sherlock?" Leonard smirked.

"It’s the only possible explanation." Sheldon shrugged.

The door to the TARDIS flew open and a man in a pin-striped suit and trainers bolted out, almost crashing into the sofa, followed by an equally excited blonde girl.

"Where are we, Doctor?" the girl asked happily.

"Earth!" the man grinned. "Pasadena, California. Somewhere in the 21st Century. Hello!” he noticed the two scientist staring at him. “I’m the Doctor, this is Rose. Watch out for her – she’s a wild one.” he winked at the blonde, who giggled.

“Um… hello. I’m Leonard, and this is Sheldon.”

“Nice to meet you.” the Doctor smiled. He flopped down onto the sofa, stretching his legs out.

"Um, excuse me!" Sheldon glared at the man. "That’s where I sit!"

“You have a special spot on the sofa?” Rose grinned.

“Don’t get him started…” Leonard sighed.

“I understand.” the Doctor said gravely. “A man’s sofa is his soul.” he shifted to the next cushion while Rose tried not to laugh.

“Thank you.” Sheldon smiled, walking into the kitchen. “Would you like a hot beverage?”

“Cup of tea, please!” the Doctor called cheerfully.

“Hold on!” Leonard frowned. “How did you get here? Why are you here?”

“We’re… travellers.” Rose began.

“Time travellers.” the Doctor corrected her.

“Impossible.” Sheldon muttered.

“We travel in the TARDIS.” Rose continued.

“My time machine.” the Doctor added.

“Impossible.” Sheldon growled.

“We explore!” Rose laughed.

“Throughout time and space!” the Doctor gave her a high-five.

“Impossible!” Sheldon shouted. Everyone turned to look at him.

“Improbable, yes.” the Doctor smiled. “But nothing is impossible. I’m an alien, a Time Lord, and Rose is my human companion.”

“Aliens…” Leonard gaped at the Doctor, who winked at him.

“…do not exist.” Sheldon crossed his arms.

“Sheldon! You spend all your time watching sci-fi shows – how can you say that?” Leonard laughed.

“It is fact. And if aliens were real, why would they come to Earth? We’re not the biggest or the best planet in the universe.” Sheldon shook his head.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” the Doctor beamed. “I love humans!”

“In more ways than one…” Leonard muttered, glancing at Rose’s dishevelled clothes.

“You’re brilliant, you lot!” the Doctor ignored him.

“I refuse to believe you are an alien.” Sheldon rolled his eyes. “It is impossible that an alien would come to Earth just because we are ‘brilliant’. You’ve made up the name Time Lord - you’re rather pompous, aren’t you? Plus, you sound British, so it is possible, though slightly improbable due to the recent scientific journals, that the British have perfected teleportation. Trust the English to transport a blue cupboard.” Sheldon tutted.

“Hey!” the Doctor gasped. “It’s not a cupboard!”