scribble-dee-doo - Tumblr blog

[scribble-dee-doo]

PACING IS ABOUT LOAD BEARING WALLS.

*staples violently to my own forehead*

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*emerges from the depths*

One piece brain rot is back, currently torturing Sanji

*returns to the depths*

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free resources to write a novel in 2024

hello hello! it's me, rach!

as the new year approaches, many of us set goals and resolutions - myself included. one of my goals for 2024 is to write a novel (I've been procrastinating on this for quite a long time now). i assume that some of you might have the same goal, that's why I'm writing this post today.

over 2023 i've been releasing some freebies for authors just like me, so I thought I could compile my favorites in this post. hope you find this useful :)

1) the writer's workbook

this workbook has over 60 exercises to help you develop characters, scenarios, etc. if you're ever stuck, I'm pretty sure this workbook will be your best friend.

2) author's corner (notion template)

this is the most downloaded freebie in my shop! it is a notion dashboard with everything you need to organize your writing and has some templates included (like scrivener)!!

3) another notion template

this one has two themes you can choose from: cottage-core and dark academia. they're very similar to the previous template, but this one is more recent and I added some new features. feel free to explore both and pick the one you like the most.

4) the author's journal

this is a cute printable with 20 pages that will help you stay on track and manage your social media accounts as a writer who shares their work online. you can also register what you're currently writing and your personal research and resources.

5) plan your book printable

this is a 6-page printable for you to fill out and plan your book easily and effectively.

6) excel sheet to organize tasks & word-count

this is a simple excel sheet, but it is very effective for keeping track of your tasks & word-count of your novels. also, it is 100% customizable to your liking!

that's all for now! feel free to explore my gumroad shop where I have plenty of freebies to grab! also, don't forget to subscribe so that you never miss any opportunity to get a goodie for free :)

hope this post was useful!

have a nice day,

rach

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FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPT LIST

this year's prompts were chosen through a suggestion poll (in which we recevied 2,281 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where over 1,000 people voted for their favourites. the top 29 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular - and this blog's personal favourites - have become the alternates

i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, please check out the blog's faq before sending an ask, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog!

please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.

full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS:

DAY 1: helpless

DAY 2: solitary confinement

DAY 3: "bite down on this"

DAY 4: obedience

DAY 5: rope burns

DAY 6: "you lied to me"

DAY 7: suffering in silence

DAY 8: "why won't it stop?"

DAY 9: bees

DAY 10: killing in self defence

DAY 11: time loop

DAY 12: semi-conscious

DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"

DAY 14: blood-stained tiles

DAY 15: "who did this to you?"

DAY 16: came back wrong

DAY 17: hostage situation

DAY 18: too weak to move

DAY 19: "please don't"

DAY 20: truth serum

DAY 21: unresponsive

DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there"

DAY 23: presumed dead

DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you"

DAY 25: waterboarding

DAY 26: "help them"

DAY 27: left for dead

DAY 28: "no... not like this"

DAY 29: not allowed to die

ALTERNATE PROMPTS:

is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!

ALT 1: human shield

ALT 2: "i love you"

ALT 3: found footage

ALT 4: human weapon

ALT 5: cpr

ALT 6: immortality

ALT 7: last words

ALT 8: killing game

ALT 9: lightning strike

ALT 10: last man standing

RULES:

SOFT RULES:

prompts should be answered in the form of whump

creators can produce whatever kind of media they want

you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to

you can use the prompts after the event ends and can complete them in tandem with any other event

you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr

if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days

if you have questions consult the faq before asking

HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)

when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:

febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2024)

the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…

nsfw (if relevant)

and any trigger warnings that may be important!

you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump

i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.

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FTH 2024 Auction Calendar

We blinked, and it's 2024, and our EIGHTH year of running this auction. 2024 has all the same problems as last year but more — but we also have a lot to be hopeful about, and a lot of good projects worth supporting and fighting for.

You can look at this page (also linked in our header) for the list of this year's supported nonprofit organizations. We'll be posting more detailed profiles of each of them in the coming weeks. Below is the full calendar for this year's auction.

February 5th: creator signups open

February 19th: creator signups close

February 29th: browsing period begins

March 5th: bidding opens

March 9th: bidding closes

March 16th: proof of high bid donations due

March 21st: proof of 2nd chance donations due

Back in 2021, as we were pulling together the fifth FTH auction, we joked together behind the scenes about how great it felt that the name of our auction was no longer quite as on-the-nose as it had been in our first few years. But it's 2024, and in all likelihood 45 will be back on the ballot: just one of the many sobering and scary things we're facing down this year.

But for the past seven years, we've had the privilege of watching thousands of fans -- yes, literally thousands -- dedicate their time and money and energy to the twin projects of sending support to some amazing organizations while building and strengthening community ties within fandom. Now, more than ever, that kind of community-building is essential.

We hope you'll join us, and join one another, in sending much-needed financial support to these amazing organizations and in putting more joy and beauty out into the world in the form of fanworks. These are dark times, but when we join together we can make them a little brighter.

(What is Fandom Trumps Hate anyway? Read our FAQ.)

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picking 4 wips/concepts to see if i can make a dent in the pile...

Fire/Glow (doctordonna week fill): drafting - i feel like the "script" serves pretty well as an outline, so i'm chipping away at it. wc: uuh i'll go find that later

DoctorDonna AU: snippets - rewatched journey's end and decided my 16 year late fixit looks like the doctordonna making an executive decision that the alien in the middle of a breakdown should not be responsible for the fates of multiple people and kidnapping him. currently jotting down snippets as they come to me, which might be enough to get a oneshot down. 1015w

Amnesia Sanzo AU (saiyuki): snippets - ukoku actually gets sanzo with muten and pulls a bit of a winter soldier. i feel like there's enough meat here to actually outline and turn it into a proper fic, but idk if i can noodle my way into a finished product ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 1323w

saiyuki genderswap - extremely self-indulgent snippets, less of a fic and more kicking around a concept for fun. saiyuki has some gender aspects that are especially juicy to flip. 719w

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for free day you get...a sample of the prose draft of the prompt from day one!

and also a VERY BIG thank you to @doctordonnaweek for arranging such a fun event!! everybody's fic and art was FANTASTIC. i had a wonderful time, sparked oodles of ideas, and have been able to write out some of my feelings from the specials. thanks for a great and very satisfying week!

Shaun follows her down the hall to Wilf’s spare room, one hand on her hip and the other holding the second cup of tea. Sylvia and Rose and Grandad are in the sitting room, talking again about the Meep and how long it’ll take for UNIT to fix up the house and whether Donna’s new job will mean she’s fighting more aliens. It had better not. Saving people is all well and good, but Donna hasn’t been able to take a shower yet and her clothes still smell like the chemically stale air of the ship at the end of the universe.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sit with you? You’ve had a long couple of days,” Shaun asks.

Donna sort of sighs, sort of laughs. She’s not even mentioned how he nearly had barbecued wife, too busy explaining why everyone went mad and then too busy with the Doctor collapsing on Grandad’s front step.

“You have no idea,” she says, pausing at the door. She peeks around it; the Doctor is still lying in bed, flat on his back, glossy with sweat. “No, I’ve got him. Except, are you sure-”

Shaun takes her hand, kisses her knuckles. “Absolutely. We’re here, we’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about except your friend feeling better.”

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it's donna loving her husband AND her best friend hours. also fungus amongus.

@doctordonnaweek

Psychic massage feels mostly like a massage, but also a little bit like getting new glasses, or recovering from a cold. Knots of worry and unconscious ruts of thought have been worked out, but she also feels like her own brain is clear and crisp and colorful in a way she hadn’t known she was missing. She and The Doctor had ended up in the lounge chairs bordering a pool with elaborate fish towers showing off even more elaborate fish, like an aquatic hamster maze, and she’d been following one bright blue croissant-shaped fellow with an unhurried enjoyment she’s rarely experienced before. She’s not tired. She’s not worrying. She’s not impatient or swatting away guilt and insecurity. She just is, here with the fish and her best friend.

Said best friend had fallen into their own lounger like a dropped handful of sticks and has been lying boneless ever since. Donna is feeling a bit jelly-ish herself, if less like she’d been luxuriously flattened by a slow and thorough rolling pin, but he might be genuinely dozing. Or the trance/meditating thing he’d started around two months after moving in, something that had to do with Time Lord mental upkeep he’d obviously been neglecting for centuries. She’s never seen them do either in public before, nor even in private when they were first traveling together, and she savors the slow delight of it like a bed of coals, softly glowing.

Croissant-fish has done three lazy laps of the upper left corner of the maze and shifted completely into a smoothed, pale blue sickle when Shaun finds them. He’s rarely tense, except when trying to work self-checkout machines, but now he’s properly glowing. He’s beautiful, wearing a jumper she got him on his last birthday and at ease walking on an alien planet like they’ve encountered each other at the park. Noticing the Doctor makes him chuckle. Once he’s reached them, he brushes the top of the Doctor’s hair with his knuckles and leans down to give her a kiss.

“Hello, lovely,” she says once they’ve parted.

“Hello gorgeous,” he returns, sitting beside her and taking her hand.

Undignified mouth smacking on her right announces that the Doctor is stirring. He’s opted for less gelled heights in his recent hairstyles, but his hair is still spikey enough he looks like a baby bird in an awkward feather stage as he blinks, slow and a little out of sync, fighting to wake.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Shaun greets them, voice full of mirth.

The Doctor makes noises that may or may not contain words. Donna chuckles at him and flexes her hand in Shaun’s, admiring the strength of his fingers and the subtle shimmer on her nail polish.

“You have fun with your new mates?” she asks.

Shaun swings his legs onto the lounger, lies across her lap, and props his head up with his free hand on her other side. His jumper is remarkably snuggly. She pets it.

“Sure did,” he says. “They started having issues with atmospheric containment in the nitrogen sections, but it turns out Sorrister works for one of the companies that maintains the filtration system and they got it fixed right up.”

The Doctor, who’s been blearily studying Shaun’s position, decides he wants to join them. He peels himself off his lounger, one limb at a time, flops onto Donna’s, and arranges himself across her shins, cuddled right up against Shaun, with a sigh. Her legs are going to fall asleep quickly, but for now it’s like having a lap full of enormous cats.

They sit quietly for a moment before the Doctor mumbles, “This place has some of the best biome support infrastructure ever devised, I’m surprised they had atmospheric containment problems.”

“So was Sorrister!” Shaun says, “but it turns out they were having a bit of a fungal problem, and it got into the filters.”

“Some fungus,” Donna said, watching the fish again.

Shaun hums agreeingly. “Big teeth.”

She’s pretty sure the croissant fish is now doing a little dance with one of the two-headed shrimp things.

She blinks

The Doctor pops up, frowning and looking more awake.

“Teeth?” they ask.

“Oh yeah, big as anything,” Shaun confirms. “Ko Ta N knew a bit about Ramican containment, though, so we fiddled a little something up and took care of it.”

The Doctor is now fully awake. Shaun is quite pleased with himself, so Donna is mostly curious about what kind of fungus needs teeth and what for.

“By ‘Ramican,’” the Doctor says, with increasing urgency, “do you mean Ramicandelaberaceae, the fungal species that releases hyper-aggressive defensive spores when exposed to oxygen?”

“Yep! Some copper-sulfur spray and ultraviolet light got ‘em to calm down, and Ko Ta N got a job out of it. Did you know she used to have a nursery? Said she’d get us some cuttings.”

Donna is watching the one-alien show of the Doctor realizing someone else did their thing while they were doing the psychic equivalent of sunbathing on the beach. It’s entertaining. His eyebrows are even more expressive now than they used to be.

“We should invite her and her family to dinner,” she says.

Shaun hums. “She has something like six hundred and thirty kids,” he says. “But most of them are about the size of rice grains, so I bet we could work that out.”

“You fought an exposed colony of Ramicandelaberaceae with farming techniques and it worked?”

“It helps to have friends who work in different fields, Doctor,” Shaun says. 

Donna covers her mouth to muffle her laughter.

The Doctor insists on seeing the evidence with their own eyes. The walk to the gardens bordering the nitrogen quarter is lovely, even with the Doctor vibrating with the urge to run ahead from his tether between them. The psychic massage apparently helped along the latent telepathic sense Donna suspects has been slowly strengthening in her mind over time. Between their clasped hands, she’s pretty sure she can feel his urgency bubbling over like a baking soda volcano.

Shaun guides them to the slightly scorched and stinky corner where the grand battle took place. The Doctor shoots off, scanning everything and talking to everyone. Shaun finds his new friends again and learns that Sorrister has gotten a raise, and Donna secures a promise from Ko Ta N to bring her family over for mushroom skewers. Rose arrives with her own group of new friends, and the Doctor adds urgent commentary to Shaun’s recounting of events.

Donna confirms the Doctor was meditating at the spa once they get back to the TARDIS, where they discover the center console has been ringed by purple cushioned benches overflowing with pillows. After everyone exclaiming over the TARDIS’s greeting of an enthusiastic lightshow and mechanical twittering, apparently because she also enjoyed the spa, Donna shoos him away from the controls and into the tide of pillows. He forges in, a child in a ball pit, and spends the entire ride home asleep on his belly, drooling and twitching like a dreaming dog. Rose entertains herself by constructing a pillow fort over their body.

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* crawls in * okay i know wednesday was yesterday but today all i've got is wips......

@doctordonnaweek

ood/odd

"So with a combination of these little friends and the readings I triangulated with the sonic screwdriver and my own contact with the Ood brain, I can construct - well, I say construct, it's a little bit of growing, a little asking, not too much construction in the end - I can create a sort of interim node for any Ood who need some help on the way back to the Ood Sphere. Or who want to stay out there, traveling! There's a whole big universe out there, if they have one of this with 'em, they can go wherever they want with all the support they need. Sort of like the TARDIS does for me!"

Donna is busy watching the hive, trying to recall the name of the guy who did all those splotchy pages the psychologists use on TV. She's tuned out the Doctor's whittering until he remembers she's a part of the conversation instead of a well-dressed stump. Her ears are well-trained, though, and perk up all on their own when they hear something juicy. Usually, it doesn't make beautiful space fruit sour in her mouth.

"Like the TARDIS does for you?" she repeats.

memory/change

"So where does the psychic part of the psychic spa happen?" Donna asks.

The Doctor looks at her, then around at the garden.

"This is a psychic spa, Donna," he says.

"Yeah?"

He gestures. Not towards anything she can tell, he just gestures, generally.

"Psychic spa."

"I heard you the first seventy-three times you've explained it to us since you got too excited and shorted out the pamph-wait."

Donna stops, pivoting on her heels and spinning him around so that they're facing each other.

"Doctor," she says, holding them firmly by the elbows, "did you take us. And our family. To a spa which is a living, psychic creature?"

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* lying on the floor * i swear this started relevant to the prompt

@doctordonnaweek

travel/wander

The coffee shop is called Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, which makes it slightly more palatable than the usual cutesy or staid affairs, and it’s an obvious favorite of Rose’s. She makes a genuine effort to suss out whether he’s more of a “Maple Madness” or “Event Horizon” type of coffee drinker, debating pros and cons with Shaun, who’s still gamely holding his hand despite it being ten minutes since Donna left them at the door. What is taking her? She’d been so excited this morning, and they’ve hardly had a chance to say hello in a week.

“Does that sound good?” Rose asks.

The Doctor makes a vague affirmative sound, busy leaning over to see out the front window past the trio of agitated businessmen. Whatever it is can’t be the worst thing they’ve ever drunk, despite all the new ways coffee shops in the 21st century come up with loading a perfectly lovely cup of coffee with plastic-y-tasting artificial flavors. Businessman #2 is expressing himself with jerky, view-blocking sweeps of his arms.

“Oh, the nice chairs are free!” Rose exclaims, and the Doctor is towed across the shop in her wake.

The chairs are nice, green and squashy in a pleasing way, and with an excellent view of the front window. Shaun volunteers to go wait for the coffees, Rose starts going through her haul, and the Doctor watches the passing humans. Donna is fine. She’s been fine all day, despite ducking in and out and making suspicious phone calls and jogging into alleyways to shout incomprehensible things at people he hasn’t caught a glimpse of yet. Her hair hasn’t even been disturbed, which is evidence that she’s not been chased by anything or had to fight anything. Unless she’s been carrying a comb and fixing it every time, which is not impossible but also not quite what he would have expected from this morning. She’d been so determined to have a day at the shops with “absolutely no drama, at all, no matter whose sky is falling in.”

“Here you go,” Shaun says, standing at his shoulder with a coffee. 

It’s purple and quite large. He takes it.

“Ah,” Shaun says.

Mid-sip and experiencing a whole range of flavor situations he was not remotely expecting from any of the options Rose had given him or from something so violently purple, the Doctor looks back out the window and chokes. Donna has returned! Donna is fine! Donna is chasing what looks an awful lot like a heavily modified Skovox Blitzer, brandishing a handbag. It’s not her handbag. The Skovox Blitzer, scourge of planets and the author of destruction across an entire section of its home galaxy, is losing. It seems to be losing. The Doctor’s hearts feel like they’re beating out of rhythm from the sheer shock of encountering a potentially world-ending threat in Soho while struggling with a coffee. Coffee thing. Product served in a coffee shop. The Skovox Blitzer is sparking, in a way that indicates patched wires coming loose rather than the extremely powerful self-destruct sequence starting up. The Doctor gingerly places the purple drink on the handy side-table and starts to get up.

“I should maybe just –” they start, but Shaun pats them on the shoulder.

“She’s got it,” he says. He even puts his hand in his pocket, sipping his coffee as Donna takes a mighty swing with the bag and knocks the Blitzer a full hundred and eighty degrees around.

“Is that handbag full of bricks?” the Doctor wonders.

“Who’s got – oh!” says Rose, looking up from running her fingers through her new yarn. “That’s where she went.”

The three of them watch Donna blitz the Blitzer. Once she’s gotten it onto the ground, which shouldn’t be possible without a heavy artillery bombardment from 45th century tanks or a moderately-sized asteroid miner, she kicks in its lenses and rips off its arm. Her hair is definitely ruffled and there’s an oil stain on her sleeve.

“She’s got it,” the Doctor admits.

Donna is waving the arm and yelling. The Doctor can’t quite tell if it’s the type holding a photon laser or a microshatter rocket or a Plodinium steel serrated blade or nothing but normal robot arm parts.

“How’s the drink?” Rose asks.

The Doctor gropes around to their left. Shaun supplies the cup. They take another sip and experience another cascade of unexpected sensations. The coffee shop has some kind of glass in the front windows that has muffled Donna’s shouting to a faint murmur.

“Purple,” he says.

A trio of people obviously wearing cheap chameleon emitters shuffle out of an unmarked van parked in front of the record shop across the street. Their silhouettes are fuzzy in a way that indicates they’re rather larger than is covered by the chosen projections of people in spangly outfits, maybe circus ringmasters or stage actors. Their movements are cringing in a way that indicates somebody’s juveniles had decided to take an unauthorized jaunt with the shell of a scavenged superweapon and are now realizing other species can threaten to call authority figures.

“Can we go to the library next?” Rose asks, and the Doctor says “Ooh! Please?”

“I think Donna will be ready for some quiet,” Shaun says. “I should get her a drink, though.”

The Doctor offers the purple drink as a counterpoint.

on the agenda tonight: shaun is lovely, i'm too tired to look up things in london, and inflicting a coffee shop on the doctor

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on the agenda tonight: shaun is lovely, i'm too tired to look up things in london, and inflicting a coffee shop on the doctor

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WAHOO day two! The Doctor needs a little adjustment to daily life but he's having a good time <3 679 words, he/they pronouns for the doctor, and donna having a stressed moment when faced with a space gadget right after waking up! @doctordonnaweek

noble/party

“Doctor.”

The Doctor looks up from Rose’s ten-minute explanation of the pros and cons of flanking, craned over his own shoulder, to properly see the extent of the exasperation showing on Donna’s face. It’s extensive. She’s leaning on the doorframe into the kitchen with her arms crossed. Time to step carefully.

“Yyyyyyyyyyes?”

She uncrosses her arms to let something dangle from her forefinger, one eyebrow raised. They leverage themself off the floor a little to squint at it…

“The…toaster?”

Donna pushes off the doorframe so she can come over and gesture the toaster in his face, almost clipping his nose.

“Does this look,” she asks, “like a toaster? Like something that can contain bread? It’s just –” She waggles it again, clawing the air for words. “It’s just! It’s a little squiggle!”

“Oh, it’s very simple –” he says, reaching up to take it and explain that it’s actually his personal design of a clever little breakfast invention called a toasting wand, but she yanks it out of his reach. 

“Simple! I’ll tell you what’s simple! Leaving my bloody toaster alone on the morning that I have to get the house ready for a birthday party!”

Ah, this is not about the wonderful new updated toaster he came up with (it toasts both sides to perfection and adds the toppings in one swipe!), it’s another Doing Things When Things Are Happening. The Doctor’s life has almost always been doing things when things are happening, usually in layers deeper than Earth’s fossil record, but they’re trying to slow down for the sake of this “living life one day at a time” business and to avoid Donna strangling them with their own necktie.

“You know I’ve been tearing my hair out about where to put all of Grandad’s mates with the weather like it is!” Donna starts, and he can tell she’s just winding up. “I was up half the night wondering if I should just bung them all into the TARDIS, or put them in the attic, and you certainly haven’t been helpful with those decorations that almost buried the garden.”

The Doctor pops up to get his feet underneath himself, ruffles Rose’s hair in vengeance for her laughing at his plight, and hops upright.

“I just wanted to get my coffee and have my toast while I’m thinking where we’re gonna find space for everyone to eat so the wheelchairs can still get around, and you know what I find when I get to the kitchen? No toaster! Just this…this…gadget!”

Almost losing an eye to Donna’s gesturing – he should maybe add a few extra safety features, he wasn’t expecting it to be pointed at people – gives him the chance to fold his hands around hers. She’s mutinous, but lets them take the toasting wand. The wand goes in their pocket, their hands on Donna’s shoulders. Oh, she’s all kinds of tense.

“Donna,” he says, taking off his glasses to properly look her in the eye, “I’m sorry I changed the kitchen around when you’re so busy. I’ve already made coffee and everything. Let me make you a cup, ey?”

Under their hands, Donna softens, then slumps, leaning forward until her forehead bumps their chest. He folds her up in a hug, and they both heave a big sigh.

“Cold milk?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she mumbles into his collar. “Sorry.”

“Mm. And maybe I can rig something up for space?”

She chuckles. “What, are you gonna make my sitting room bigger on the inside?”

He leans back, looking down his nose at her cheeky grin.

“Are you doubting my abilities?” he demands.

Donna tucks herself under their arm, bumping hips, all warm life and laughter with her hair not yet done. The kitchen door is a little too narrow, but they manage to squeeze through it together.

“Just so long as you leave us all here, on Earth, and you leave my kitchen alone.”

“What? But you’ve been complaining about not having enough freezer space! I was gonna fix it.”

“Like you fixed the bath? Mom almost drowned.”

“I fixed that too!!”

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HAHAAAAA LOOK WHAT I FINISHED FOR DOCTORDONNA WEEK. kind of. i had a whole idea and when i sat down to write it the words didn't want to word so instead there is a SCRIPT! Or a really advanced outline! I want to actually write the fic and fill in the gaps, lol, but until the week is over please accept this placeholder. For now, please enjoy:

DoctorDonna Week 2023, Day 1:

FIRE/GLOW

@doctordonnaweek

1,711 words, full of ALL CAPS as my heart led me and SPOILERS FOR THE DOCTOR WHO 60TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIALS STARTING IN THE FIRST SENTENCE

THE DOCTOR collapses after the events of The Giggle (bi-regeneration sickness, mumble mumble), people are very worried, Doctor-Donna snuggles and the beginning of discussing the rest of their lives together.

INT: WILF’S spare bedroom, night. THE DOCTOR is lying in the full-sized bed under a hideous quilt that may have come from the bottom of TARDIS storage or Sylvia’s linen closet. His SHOES – obviously borrowed from somebody – , COAT, and OTHER ASSORTED are draped over an armoir. He’s wearing his undershirt and is resting uneasily, sweating with a subtle golden sheen to his skin. DONNA enters, juggling a thermometer, cup of tea, and crazy space gadget.

DONNA, to a figure outside of the door

“No, I’ve got him. Really, go stay with Rose. Are you sure I shouldn’t -”

SHAUN, just a shadow in the hall behind the cracked door

“Absolutely. She’s putting on a brave face, but she’s tough. I’ll put on the telly and we can have a cuddle.”

DONNA smiles. She loves this man so.

“Yeah?”

SHAUN

“Yeah, you know she’s worried about him too.”

DONNA leans back out of the door and kisses SHAUN, slowly. It’s a moment of relief, savoring a return to normal with new appreciation for things she already loved more than she thought she could stand. They bump foreheads and smile, looking into each others’ eyes.

DONNA

“I love you.”

SHAUN

“I love you too. Now take care of your spaceman and give us a shout if you need anything.”

DONNA laughs and pecks him on the lips one more time before shutting the door.

~AUTH NOTE: DONNA GETTING SETTLED IN, SHOWING HOW BADLY OFF THE DOCTOR IS~

She runs her hand over the DOCTOR’S forehead the way she’s learned to do as a mother, but forgets about the psychic contact points. When her fingertips brush them, both she and the DOCTOR jolt. The DOCTOR resettles, facing DONNA. DONNA sits back with an expression of focus and then realization.

DONNA, as though recalling a long-buried memory

“Tannins.”

DONNA looks down at her cup of tea. She puts it on the bedside table and starts rearranging, finding another pillow or two and stacking them at the head of the bed before attempting to wrangle THE DOCTOR into sitting more upright. He’s floppy and uncooperative and she scolds him as she’s trying to get her arm behind his shoulders. She presses him forward and he falls so that he’s folded in half, nose on his knees. DONNA pauses in rearranging the pillows, looking at him.

DONNA

“How are you that bendy at your age?”

It occurs to her that, rather than folding comfortably, he may have torn something from being unable to support himself. She rushes to get the pillows in place and resettles him more gently. He exhales a little rush of gold but doesn’t otherwise react.

DONNA, while picking up the tea like a surgical instrument

“Okay, let’s give this a try.”

DONNA gingerly wafts the teacup under THE DOCTOR’S nose like smelling salts. When he doesn’t react, she wafts it more aggressively. She studies him closely after every pass. On the third pass, she accidentally bumps it against his chin and splashes a little.

DONNA

“Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry.”

She dabs the spill off his chin. THE DOCTOR gasps a big breath, opening his eyes wide, and DONNA startles badly.

DONNA

“SHIT!”

THE DOCTOR, bleary

“Issat tea?”

DONNA, looking down at the tea she forgot she was holding

“Yes! Yes it is, here, have a sip. Is it okay with milk?”

THE DOCTOR, being force-fed tea a little too quickly

*affirmative hum*

DONNA, pulling back

“Is that enough?”

THE DOCTOR is still swallowing his last sip, so he makes grabby hands for the mug. DONNA hands it over and sits back in her seat, wringing her hands.

THE DOCTOR, in between sips

“What, no honey?”

DONNA

“No, it’s late. Trying to calm down, aren’t we?”

THE DOCTOR finishes the mug in a long swallow and clumsily wipes his mouth with his shirtsleeve. DONNA looks disgusted but unsurprised.

THE DOCTOR

“So you made black tea?”

DONNA looks at him with her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

DONNA

“It’s got you up, hasn’t it?”

THE DOCTOR

“Yeah, fair enough. Oooh –”

THE DOCTOR winces, falling back onto his pillows. DONNA sits forward in alarm and takes the teacup.

DONNA

“What? What is it?”

THE DOCTOR makes a face and then belches up a plume of regeneration energy. DONNA jerks backwards, trying to avoid it. It follows her, curling slowly like water but definitely in her direction. She swats at it like a fly and it clings to her fingertips.

AUTH NOTE: SOMEHOW THEY GET TO THE PART THAT I ACTUALLY WANTED TO WRITE

DONNA looks down, smiling tightly, reluctant or not ready to talk about the difficult subject of THE DOCTOR leaving her without her memories for fifteen years. He looks at her, endlessly old and endlessly regretful.

THE DOCTOR

“I’m sorry.”

DONNA, shaking her head as if to brush it off and still smiling

“No.”

THE DOCTOR

“No, really, I’m so -”

DONNA leans forward jerkily. She’s restraining huge, complicated emotions behind a smile that’s wavering a little bit. She raises her hands, controls them, and folds them firmly and decisively together on the bedspread. THE DOCTOR watches her. She takes a deep, shaky breath and sighs it out.

DONNA

“I keep thinking -”

She bites down on the rest of her sentence, looking away and sniffing. Her body language and expression are tight. She’s barely holding tears at bay. THE DOCTOR is also tearing up.

DONNA

“No.”

DONNA stands up and flips the covers off THE DOCTOR. He’s confused, but moves with her as she focuses hard on pushing him over on the bed, pulling up the covers, and pushing the pillows onto the floor. She toes off her shoes and climbs into the bed. She arranges them to her satisfaction, so that she has his head tucked under her chin and he can’t see her face. Under the thin blanket, they’re obviously tangled together like best friends at a sleepover. THE DOCTOR noses closer, hungry for contact.

DONNA, slowly

“I thought I was broken...for fifteen years.”

THE DOCTOR’s expression crumbles, pained. DONNA is staring at the SONIC SCREWDRIVER in the pile of stuff on the dresser, steadier now.

DONNA

“Mum was being nicer, and Grandad just – he looked at me in this way I didn’t understand. He’s always been so encouraging, we’ve always shared so much, and suddenly... I kept going. I met Shaun. There was,” she starts to tear up again, “so much good, he’s so good, and then we had Rose and we were so happy, I was so happy, but there was always this great...big...hole right through the middle of it. It felt...like I was missing someone so important, and I couldn’t tell if it was me or my best friend or – or both.”

She finally closes her eyes and lets the tears fall. Then her expression relaxes. There’s some relief in saying it. She squeezes THE DOCTOR closer and kisses him on the top of the head. He sniffles.

DONNA

“I’m not really angry about that yet, we’ve been so busy, but I will be. I’m gonna hold this over your head forever, I’m going to squeeze you for every-every drop of guilt shopping and chocolates I can get.”

They both chuckle wetly and sniffle. DONNA sobers.

DONNA

“I keep thinking, what if it was Rose or Shaun? What if I finally had someone I loved and...and I had to make that kind of choice? I don’t have all the memories but I can remember feeling how lonely you’ve been, how much you’ve been hurt. I don’t know what I would have done, if I was hurting that way.”

She pauses. Her expression firms.

DONNA

“But I would have come back. Even if I had to leave them, I would have come back. I would have kept trying to help.”

THE DOCTOR

“You’ve always been stronger than me.”

DONNA pulls back and they look at each other. THE DOCTOR’S expression is dull, defeated, DONNA’S angry. After a moment, DONNA sighs. Closing her eyes, she presses their foreheads together. THE DOCTOR softens, still all pain underneath, but DONNA is calmer.

DONNA

“No more excuses for you. I’m putting you in feelings boot camp. You’re gonna wake up and do two hundred happy push-ups tomorrow. It’s a big job, but I’m going to whip you into shape. You’re gonna be miserable. I’m going to make you the biggest emotional bodybuilder in this town.”

THE DOCTOR, smiling

“You promise?”

DONNA

“Yeah, I do. There’s no escape for you now.”

She tweaks his nose. He wrinkles it and grins his big old grin.

DONNA

“Glad we got that settled. Now! Sleep time.”

THE DOCTOR

“But-”

DONNA shushes him and budges them both down the bed so that they’re lying comfortably. THE DOCTOR protests, citing Time Lord sleeping habits that DONNA shoots down with a snort, but he lets her bully him around.

THE DOCTOR

“But Shaun -”

DONNA

“You wanna keep trying to tell me things about my own husband or do you wanna enjoy this while it lasts?”

THE DOCTOR settles in. They both relax, still tangled together but less likely to wake up with cricks in their necks and hands fallen asleep.

THE DOCTOR

“Alright, don’t blame me if you get weird in the morning.”

DONNA

“You have no idea how much weird I can handle. Normal life has weird you can’t even imagine.”

THE DOCTOR

“I look forward to learning about it.”

DONNA

“I know you don’t snore, but I remember that camping trip in the Diamond Mountains. No wiggling.”

THE DOCTOR

“And I remember the kicking.”

DONNA

“Shush. Sleep time.”

<THE END>

CODA: THE DOCTOR sits on WILF’S couch, sick with bi-regeneration/”my 11th-dimensional self got too close to the not-things from the end of the universe” flu, doped on Gallifreyan cold medication and an accidental ginger-ale someone who didn’t know about Gallifreyan biology gave them. They’re swaddled like a recalcitrant cat at the vet because they keep falling over when they try to get up. DONNA is filming them acting like they just got out of wisdom tooth surgery and choking on laughter.

[scribble-dee-doo]

ITS OUT. tenmartha for the soul. i really think you guys are gonna like this one

[scribble-dee-doo]

The prompts are out!!

Please forgive the crunchiness of the image, I made it in microsoft paint. These have been left rather open-ended for max creativity. They're completely up to interpretation and I can't wait to see what everyone does with them. I'll be putting up a full FAQ shortly, but in the meantime please send in asks and spread the word! As a reminder there's a discord server open if a collaborative environment is something that would help (and even if you think it wouldn't, you might be surprised)! Happy creating!

[scribble-dee-doo]

FAQ

What is this?

This is DoctorDonna Week! Inspired by @/percahliaweek, it's a fandom event in celebration of the 60th anniversary specials and the return of a fan favorite duo.

What do I do?

You create! There's a list of prompts out, which you can find below, and based on those for each day of the week you can write, draw, or otherwise create something for our resident dynamic duo based on these prompts. You can pick just one of the words or find a way to combine both of them, and they've been left intentionally vague so as to leave them up to all sorts of interpretations.

So when is it, then?

As of now, the scheduled date is the week of December 17th. This gives you about five weeks as of November 6th.

Do I have to do all the prompts?

No! While it would be amazing if everyone could get all seven days done, that's an unrealistic expectation. People are busy. Your humble organizer himself will be on training trip during the very week the event's scheduled for. This is meant to be a fun, enjoyable opportunity for everyone involved, not another source of stress in our already stressful lives. If you can only get one day done, or even if you don't get anything done at all, that's 100% okay! Have fun with this, and don't stress yourself out over it.

Is NSFW allowed?

No. To all of the writers out there who write smut, I salute you! Unfortunately this is not the event for it. The highest rating for fics that will be accepted into the collection is M for graphic violence and its ilk.

Collection?

Oh yes. When the time comes to post, tag them with #doctordonna week 23. Additionally, if you're a fic writer, you can submit your works to the collection here.

Why now?

Because of the 60th anniversary and the return of Russel T Davies as showrunner. It's in late December because Christmas specials are a long-running tradition in Doctor Who, and because I didn't want it to be too terribly long after the specials aired, but I also wanted to give people enough time to properly create.

Anything else I need to know?

You tell me! Send in asks to this blog with any questions and they'll be added to the FAQ for future reference.

[scribble-dee-doo]

by the power invested in me by the sheer exasperation of sitting down to write three days in a row and not making any words happen i Will achieve at least a hundred words tonight