shivver13 (shivver13) wrote,


My friend is trying to teach me how to write fluff. I mean, really, I have no idea. I tried to write a fluffy seasonal piece this holiday and it veered off into some weird territory. Another friend of mine was very amused when I tried to learn how to write fluff by looking up definitions and examining other writers' fluff stories; I believe her phrase was, "You're trying to learn to write fluffy scientifically."

This friend, however, has come up with a great idea. She wants me to write David~Will fluff (I'm using the not-so-common convention of the tilde indicating a platonic relationship), and so, for the past two days, when I talk to her (we chat over IM while I'm at work), she's given me a phrase and I had to build a story around it within five minutes. So far it's worked. Here are the two stories I've written so far, and I'm pretty pleased with them. I'll probably post them on AO3 and whatnot after I've collected a few of them.


As the light of the setting sun, hanging low above the horizon, shimmered purple on the crests of the waves of the bay, Will dropped his shades over his eyes and laid back in his deck chair. He sipped a smooth tropical drink from the hollowed-out pineapple-that-wasn't-really-a-pineapple in his hand and idly wondered how this resort on Millin Tovic could resemble Earth so much, despite its magenta sky and ocean, blue sands, and bipedal ursine sentients. The gentle roar of the waves against the distant breakwater and the warm salt in the air was just like... well, just like what this Londoner thought a South Pacific holiday might be.

"I don't believe you managed to find us somewhere actually peaceful to relax in for a while," Will remarked to his friend, who was sunning in his trunks on the chair next to him. "I was starting to think the entire universe was out to kill us."

David smiled but didn't open his eyes. "Judging from the Doctor's life, you'd think that. I'm getting better at finding these places, though. Remember, last time we landed, they only wanted to enslave us." Even moving his mouth to talk seemed an arduous task at the moment.

"Much better than getting killed," Will agreed. Shifting into a position as heavy and loose as his friend's, he dropped his pineapple on the table between them.

David's eyes popped open at the sound and he glanced over. "Your pineapple's bigger than mine. That's hardly fair," he whinged, wrinkling his nose.

"Peaceful, mate," Will soothed, biting back his grin. "Actually peaceful. Don't ruin it. I'll order you another one."

"Good," David replied with grumpy snort. "I'd hate to have to go all Time Lord all over them."

"You would never," said Will with a breathy laugh.

"Nah. It'd require me getting up." David watched the sway of the broad leaves of the tree above them.

"And that's not going to happen."

David's eyes drooped shut. "Nope."


"You're imagining things," David remarked with a dismissive shake of his head, his eyes fixed on the web of circles and lines stretching across the screen in front of him. They shimmered and morphed as his fingers flew across the buttons and levers that controlled his temporal experiment.

"I'm not. The TARDIS hates plants. I'm sure of it," Will insisted. He leant against the edge of the perdamporal frenambulator to watch David work.

David's eyes twitched toward him for a moment. "Get off of that. You might set it off," he warned. Will hopped back to his feet as David continued. "He does not. The arboretum and the orchard are progressing nicely. Granted, they only have a handful of plants apiece, but they're all healthy."

Clenching his jaw, Will crossed his arms over his chest with a huff. "He killed my cactus, David!"

David didn't even look up. "He did not. You simply didn't water it enough."

"It's a cactus, mate!" Will squeaked. "It doesn't need watering. It shriveled up and died, in just two days!"

David shrugged as he moved to adjust the optic gravitron, peering into the eyepiece as he stepped on the pressure plate and spun the three dials on the front. "Localised temporal acceleration."

Inhaling sharply to launch into an invective, Will quickly bit it back and paused to collect his temper. "You mean," he finally pronounced in a low, calm voice, "it aged to death in two days."

"Aye. About sixteen months passed. I told you: you didn't water it enough," David explained in an utterly reasonable tone as he continued to fiddle with the dials.

"And that doesn't prove that the TARDIS hates my cactus?"

With a sigh, David stepped back from his work and regarded his friend without apology. "Well, you have to admit, it is poky," he explained, the Scottish 'o' of the last word exaggerated through pursed lips.

Will blinked. "The TARDIS doesn't like poky plants?"

"Would you if you dropped it on your foot?" asked David. At Will's confused frown, he elaborated, "You dropped the thing while you were repotting it. It hurt."

Will's jaw dropped open, and he sputtered, "It hurt? It's a spaceship! The floor's made of..." Looking down at his feet, he toed and stamped on the material beneath him. "...Whatever it's made of! How can it hurt?"

David just looked at him.

Will rolled his eyes. "Oh, all right. No more cactuses, mate."

David couldn't keep it in anymore and smothered his laugh with a hand. "It's okay, Will. He got his revenge on your cactus and that's all he wanted. You can get another one and he won't do anything to it." At the rise of Will's sceptical eyebrow, David added, "I promise."

"I don't believe you," Will growled.

Though he'd schooled expression back to neutral, David's eyes were still shining with amusement. "Okay, I admit that I can't control his whims, but right now, I assure you he has no designs on any future cacti you might procure."

Will snorted. "We'll see."

David nodded as he turned back to his work. "I'm sure we will."

Tags: the actor au 2, writing

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