travelling with the doctor

So there’s that post going around about people claiming Native American ancestry for whatever reason, when they’re not.  I just wanted to bring something up which I haven’t seen discussed on the website.

Back in the 19th and 20th centuries there were travelling “doctors” (using the term loosely here because they were not doctors, pretty much at all) who claimed to have “secret ancient medicines” that cured basically any ailment (spoiler they cured nothing).  These snake oil salesmen employed people to claim Native American heritage or that they were in fact part of some tribe or another.  These people were almost certainly not Native American, but the people the fake medicines were being sold to believed it.  

Some of those people had children and those children could have passed down stories of how their grandfather or great grandfather or mother or someone was one of those traveling with the salesmen and I can see how that might lead to confusion.

I’m not trying to call anyone out or anything like that, but it’s an interesting history fact, and it could explain why someone claims to be Native American and truly believe that when they are in fact not.  I’m not gate keeping, it’s just some history.  

Deleted Scenes

I decided to post the deleted scenes from A Marriage of Convenience here! After all, why not, it’s my blog, it’s my story. ^_^ No idea how many people will be interested in reading these, but here they are anyway. :P

The following scenes under the cut - Harold Saxon, Viscount Oakdown, persuades Lady Rose Tyler that he intends to mend his friendship with Baron John Smith, called ‘the Doctor’ by his friends and ‘Theta’ by the Viscount. But his motives are far from friendly. (This is what happened in the three days that the Doctor and Donna were traveling to and from London.)

Warnings - kidnapping, firearms, threats of torture, violence, some blood, non-con touching. Basically lots of whump and angst, all the stuff I just skipped over in the fic. The Master is NOT a fun guy in this story.

Keep reading

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.