#‘offer a child a suitcase full of sweets and they’ll take it. offer someone all of time n space and they’ll take that too’ -eleven

[seaweedstarshine]

This part of The Crimson Horror novelization lives rent free in my mind:

‘I could materialise the TARDIS around her on stage!’ cried the Doctor. ‘No—’ he concluded bitterly. ‘Too conspicuous. Blow pipe?’ ‘What?’ ‘Use a blow pipe dart to knock her out. Just for a bit. Long enough to get her back here. Strong cuppa. Two rounds of toast. Gentle interrogation…’ ‘Right,’ I sighed. ‘Or—’ ‘Befriend her as a child! Easy! I can nip back in the TARDIS, make a huge impression on her when she’s just a nipper then reappear in her life and then it’ll be all bunting out, hail the conquering Doctor, all that. It’s worked before!’

He liked the results on Amy, so he tried it on Kazran Sardick, until causing lasting childhood trauma is one of his go-to solutions for easy compliance! That's my eleven. My eldritch horror.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

thinking about clara telling 12 he made courtney feel not special and 12 at the end of the lie of the land telling bill “because in amongst seven billion, theres someone like you” and bill looking like

and 11 telling rita in the god complex "offer a child a suitcase full of sweets and they’ll take it. offer someone all of time and space and they’ll take that too. which is why you shouldnt” in that fucking self-flagellating but also proud way they do and rita says “i dont know what youre talking about but whatever it is, i have a feeling you just did it again” because they did

they know they know they know what they do and clara didnt have to tell them theyve been doing this long enough they know. and they dont like it but theyre not gonna stop doing it either which must be Great for the self-worth feelings. they have a job to do and they cant stop doing it but they also cant do it alone but also anyone they take with them will most likely get hurt or die

this is nothing new but it’s just. im thinking about the way they do it. the way they absolutely know the effect they have on people. “you make people want to impress you. you make it so they dont want to let you down”

how casually 12 throws out that line, so genuine, i 100% believe it feels true when they say stuff like that, but also bill just had a Bad 6 months. he didnt have to say this. bill asked why he puts up with humans he could say something nice about humanity as a whole, but he doesnt, he singles her out, “i put up with the rest of them because sometimes theres someone like you”. it’s sweet and i dont think it’s a lie and i dont even think it’s a conscious manipulation but like

it’s just like, a really good way to keep people with you when you make them feel like theyre at the centre of the universe like that. the universe revolves around the doctor and when youre in the eye of the storm with them youre so special. you know more than regular people, you get to know all the secrets of the universe, you get to know about aliens, you get to play hero along with them!

ROSE: I can't tell her. I can't even begin. She's never going to forgive me. And I missed a year. Was it good? DOCTOR: Middling. ROSE: You're so useless. DOCTOR: Well, if it's this much trouble, are you going to stay here now? ROSE: I don't know. I can't do that to her again, though. DOCTOR: Well, she's not coming with us. ROSE: No chance. DOCTOR: I don't do families. [...] ROSE: My mum was right. That is one hell of an age gap. Every conversation with you just goes mental. There's no one else I can talk to. I've seen all that stuff up there, the size of it, and I can't say a word. Aliens and spaceships and things, and I'm the only person on planet Earth who knows they exist.

being the object of the doctor’s affection is i think probably a bit of a horrifying experience and not a position you really want to be in, but as long as youre still in that Comments About How Theyre Putting Up With All Of Humanity Because They Like You stage and havent yet reached the Tearing The Sky Apart For You stage, it probably feels really good (do i look susceptible to companion syndrome in this post hkfjghj)

and like i said it’s not that they dont actually love their companions. of course they do. it’s just that if youre terrified of being abandoned, making people feel special like this is a good way to make them not leave you

and i think 13 probably did her best not to do this again. she didnt invite them along to new adventures at the end of 11x1. she initiates goodbyes i think three times (”ive stayed too long, i should get back to finding my tardis”, “im almost gonna miss you”, “guess we’re done, nice having you aboard”) before the fam ask to come with her

and sure she plays the kicked puppy a bit in 11x4 but she waits for yaz to invite her, shes relatively passive, actually for the doctor shes incredibly passive. and she enjoys letting them into the tardis in 11x2, but she doesnt tease really secrets and wonders if they come travel with her. she doesnt really introduce them to the tardis, she doesnt say what the name means, she doesnt let them touch anything, nobody says “it’s bigger on the inside”, she doesnt invite them to all of time and space. she doesnt suggest it could be theirs to see. i dont think she ever does. just what the fam got to see accidentally was already enough to convince them.

i really need to rewatch so i might be wrong about this, but i dont think she ever makes them feel special the same way the doctor did with companions before. she makes them feel special like a tour guide maybe, with her little points and stars system, and calling them best friends, small mundane ways that dont show off her age or history or influence. i dont think she ever suggests theyre more important than other people. i think she emphasises her love for humans as a whole. i think thats the impression they get from her. i think thats what they would say if you asked them about her. “yeah she loves humanity. me? yeah she probably likes me, we’re friends”

she never puts them in a position where theyre the only one who can save the day/world/planet/universe. she always puts herself between them and the problem. she always goes ‘no im the doctor, thats my job’. she takes that responsibility so they dont have to. they take it! when they feel like theyre forced to! when the doctor’s gone in 12x2 or 12x10, they take that responsibility for sure. i think they want to, not just yaz but especially yaz. but they feel unprepared. the doctor hasnt prepared them for this bc she doesnt want them in that position bc in that position they die.

and clearly this has not been ideal. this has not led to an ideal doctor-companion dynamic, we’ve seen how this has hurt 13 as well as especially i think yaz and ryan deeply. but the strategy has been succesful. she lost her last two companions bc she didnt get between them and the problem. with bill literally, with clara metaphorically. (going back even further this might also be the case for amy and donna and rose. she let them into positions she should have been in taking decisions she should have taken)

and however badly things have gone for 13, the strategies of Get Between Them And The Problem, and Be The Doctor Dont Let Them Do It, have WORKED. she GOT THEM HOME. if yaz doesnt die, and im willing to bet money she doesnt, she got them all home safe and sound

14′s relationship with their companions will probably be a response to what went wrong in this round and it will have its own pitfalls that 15 then gets to fix but theyre trying, theyre learning. one step forward two steps back i guess. a fun little tango with death

[tardisghosts]

“i brought them here. they’d say it was their choice, but offer a child a suitcase full of sweets and they’ll take it. offer someone all of time and space, and they’ll take that, too. which is why you shouldn’t.”

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Eight

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

Roman woke up the next morning to a harsh knocking at his door and an unpleasant voice demanding his attention. “Veronica, open up, I know you’re still in there!”

Sitting up silently, Roman rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and went to answer the door, greeting his mother still in sleep shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, and wearing nothing else. “Do you need something, Mother?”

“You’re having breakfast with Rose and I,” his mother told him.

“I’m still exhausted, Mother—”

“—This is not a request, Veronica,” his mother said. “You will be having breakfast with us. You cannot run away from your duties and hide behind Damien forever.” 

I can certainly try, Roman thought. “That’s not what I’m trying to do, Mother. I wish to know the man I’m going to marry, beyond his name and basic knowledge of his interests. If that means I’m running away from my duties, then I fail to see why you would set this up. You of all people should know I like to get to know people better than just surface knowledge if I’m going to be spending a lot of time with them. And Remus is the same, especially with romantic ventures. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

His mother huffed. “You still must have breakfast with us. You will be spending a lot of time around Rose, as well.”

“If you don’t mind me looking and feeling dead inside at breakfast, yeah, give me two minutes to get dressed,” Roman said, closing the door. He grabbed a T-shirt and looked through his suitcase, grimacing when he saw no more pairs of jeans. He had forgotten that his mother had made him pack all his feminine clothing first. So he put on one of the least form-fitting skirts and opened the door again. “Acceptable?” he asked.

“You should wear your hair up,” his mother said. “You look so much prettier with your hair up.”

Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “May I have my phone back after breakfast, Mother? I want to add Damien to my contacts.”

His mother sighed. “I suppose,” she allowed. “But no talking to those online friends of yours! We got rid of those apps that you had on your phone that allowed you to talk to them, but I don’t want to see you redownloading them!”

Roman sighed. “Is that really necessary, Mother? They’re my friends, they deserve to know that I’m all right.”

“They were hurting you, Veronica, and I will not allow you to delude yourself about this transgender... thing any longer!”

Roman resisted the urge to flinch, and the urge to growl. “I’ll text Remus and see if he can tell them I’m all right. I haven’t been able to talk to them in a week, they’ll be worried.”

His mother sent him a glare, and Roman just shrugged. “I don’t want them thinking I’m dead, Mother.”

“And if they try to contact you outside those apps?” his mother asked.

“They can’t,” Roman said. “I never gave them my email address or my phone number. They’ll be relieved that I’m alive, and you can still isolate me from the only people who ever understood me.”

“Don’t act like that, Veronica,” his mother scolded. “You know everyone at home loves you. We just want you to see sense.”

Roman sighed in frustration. “Whatever,” he growled. “Let’s just have breakfast.”

His mother gave him a warning glare but they both walked down the halls to a dayroom where the Queen was already waiting. She smiled at Roman, and Roman offered a weak smile back. He really wasn’t looking forward to this. Not because he didn’t want to spend time with the Queen. She seemed really nice, and inviting, and she was more than accepting. But because his mother was there, he would be forced to stay in the closet during the entire conversation that was breakfast. And that pained Roman to no end.

No sooner did Roman and his mother sit down than Patton swooped in, carrying three plates on a tray in one hand, and a tea set in the other. Roman whistled. “Nice balancing act,” he said.

“Thank you, Your Highness!” Patton said, giving him a big, toothy smile. “It took many years of practice to get it down, but once I figured out how to place everything so no one side is topheavy, I could run through the halls with trays over my head and still keep everything in place!”

Roman grinned at Patton, ignoring the way his mother was giving him a searching stare. “Maybe you could teach me some time, that could be fun,” he said.

“I could enlist both you and Damien to help me in the kitchen and teach you both how to balance anything,” Patton laughed. “Although, I must admit, with Damien’s track record for balance, I’m not sure that would end well.”

Roman snickered and the Queen laughed a little, herself. “My boy is talented in many things, but balance is not one of them,” she said. “That seems to be where most of his art problems stem from. Not looking where he’s going, or misjudging how light or heavy a piece of pottery will be. Then he inevitably drops something and whatever he dropped proceeds to get in every nook and cranny in the room he was working in.”

Laughing outright at that, Roman said, “I certainly hope no one ever hands him a child, then.”

Patton snorted, said, “It’s a bit late for that, Your Highness,” and left.

Roman turned to the Queen and she sighed. “Yes, Damien has tried to hold children before. Family members, sitting down, of course, but he never could quite cradle them correctly, let alone pick them up.”

“Has he gotten any better at it?” Roman asked. “Any improvement? At all?”

“If he has improved, I haven’t seen it,” the Queen said with a slight smile.

“That might be a problem,” Roman’s mother cut in. “When you two have children, he’d have to learn how to balance very quickly, or risk not being able to hold them at all.”

Roman grimaced, busying himself with grabbing a plate of breakfast (pancakes, he was pleasantly surprised to find), and a cup full of tea. He hadn’t even considered that he would be expected to have children. If the thought of sex had repelled him yesterday, the thought of children today made his heart leap into his throat and his stomach sink into the depths. “I don’t know about children at this point, Mother, Damien and I aren’t even married yet.”

“It’s never too early to think about these things, Veronica,” his mother pressed.

“Yes, it is,” Roman said. “I may have played house as a child but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for a baby now. It’s...more than a little stressful to think about, so I’d appreciate it if we took the discussion in a different direction.”

“That works for me,” the Queen said. “Diana?”

“She will need to plan for it,” his mother protested.

“Yes, but there’s already an entire wedding to plan. One thing at a time, I think, will help Veronica adjust better.”

His mother sighed. “I suppose,” she allowed.

“So,” the Queen said. “I spoke with your mother quite a bit yesterday, Veronica, but I didn’t see very much of you. Is there anything you believe I should know about you?”

“Other than the obvious?” Roman asked with a little sniff of a laugh and a smirk. “I mean, my favorite color is red, so I very much enjoy the guest room you put me in. The turkey last night reminded me of childhood adventures with my brother, which I’m sure Damien mentioned in passing.”

“He did mention something about that this morning,” the Queen said, smiling. “About how the two of you traded places as children. I think it’s rather charming to hear about.”

“You might be the first person to call it charming,” Roman laughed. “But there are plenty more stories where that came from.”

“I can’t wait to hear them all,” the Queen said. “But for today, I’m afraid we might not have much time to talk about that. We need to go over your first dance, after all.”

“Oh, right,” Roman said. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the thought of getting married. The thought of slow-dancing with Damien seemed even more foreign. “I mean, I can barely do a passable waltz, which may be a problem...”

“Not to worry, I’m sure Logan would be willing to teach you. He’s a man of many talents. It’s one of the reasons Damien chose him to be his advisor.”

“Huh,” Roman said, taking a sip of his tea. “The more you know.”

“Indeed,” the Queen said, and when she smiled, Roman saw where Damien got a majority of his grin from.

“So, as for music,” Roman’s mother said. “What are we thinking? It has to be something Veronica can be able to dance to, but I think it should also be sweet. Something that really seals the idea of love.”

“Damien suggested a song to me earlier when we were talking. It was the reason he came looking for me. It was by this band...Sleeping at Last, I think? And they did a remake of the song I’m Gonna Be. The five hundred miles song. I haven’t listened to it, yet. I was hoping we could listen to it together.”

“Excellent idea, Rose,” Roman’s mother said. “Veronica, you can pull it up on your phone, can’t you?”

When Roman had his phone offered to him, he practically snatched it out of his mother’s hands as he looked up the song. “He said he thought of you with this song, Veronica,” the Queen said. “He hoped he wasn’t being too forward when he chose this, but he said he thought it really was what he needed to say to you.”

Roman’s heart thudded in his chest when he heard that. He knew the song, but he had never heard the version the Queen was talking about. Still...Damien doing those sorts of things for Roman, it had Roman’s heart beating hard and fast. Someone being chivalrous to him, as him, and not as Veronica, made him feel weak at the knees.

The first notes of the song hit the air around them, and Roman instantly knew this would be a romantic version of the song, but then the singer came in, and he had to fight back tears. They sang so earnestly and with so much heart in the song that Roman wouldn’t believe anyone who told him that the singer didn’t have someone in mind when they sang it. “I love it,” he said, voice thick with tears. “This is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” the Queen said with a knowing smile. “Damien puts thought into every song he recommends for any occasion. It looks like he got this one perfectly.”

Roman nodded, locking his phone as the song ended, and slipped it into the pocket he had secretly sewn into this skirt when his mother first got it for him. She never liked that he altered any outfit she got him, but he would claim he needed at least one pocket and his mother would drop the subject, knowing that Roman would argue for his right for pockets until he was blue in the face. Roman took a breath and sipped his tea, trying to get rid of the tears that threatened to overflow and make him start crying.

As breakfast continued, Roman ignored every time his mother said “Veronica” in favor of thinking about Damien calling him Roman. A man who truly cared about him, using his name. It almost made the whole thing bearable.

His mother kept going on about the kind of dress Roman might be wearing at the wedding, and Roman noticed even the Queen looked somewhat uncomfortable by this point. “I do wish the tailor would have let me see his designs,” his mother sighed. “I tried to talk to him last night as he was leaving, but he said nothing.”

“Remy doesn’t like sharing sketches of his ideas, because what he does might change radically from the sketch to what the final result is,” the Queen said. “He doesn’t want anyone to get attached to an idea he realizes no longer works.”

His mother seemed somewhat appeased, but she still sighed. “I would have liked to be there, regardless. I do want to be present for the first fitting.”

Roman’s eyes flicked over to the Queen in a panic. The Queen hummed. “I don’t know, Diana. Remy doesn’t like too many people hovering around him.”

“I’ll stay out of the way,” Roman’s mother insisted.

“Actually, Mother,” Roman said. “I had talked to Remy last night about a possible surprise about the dress. A surprise specifically designed for you and Father, and I don’t want to ruin it by showing you before the wedding day.”

His mother sent him a searching stare. “And this surprise isn’t risqué? You’re not making the dress provocative or otherwise unacceptable?”

“Of course not, you know I hate when I wear anything that shows off my body like that,” Roman said, shaking his head. “We were actually discussing...” He forced back a shudder. “We were talking about designs in the lace he considered using. Among other things.”

His mother’s eyes lit up. “You’re considering the lace after all?”

“Remy knows ways to make it less scratchy than what I’ve dealt with in the past,” Roman lied. “And if what he designs is more comfortable than what I’ve worn in the past, then I will be more than happy to wear it.”

His mother hugged him, and Roman allowed his discomfort to show on his face just as long as his mother couldn’t see him. The Queen winced in sympathy. When his mother pulled away, he reset back to his neutral face and let his mother grin at him. “I knew you would see sense, Veronica!” she exclaimed.

“I don’t know how wearing lace would be me ‘seeing sense,’” Roman said with a shrug. “But if it makes you happy...”

As his mother took over the conversation, once again gushing about her excitement for the wedding, Roman slowly retreated in on himself until he was practically huddled in the chair he was using. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He’d settle for some place in the castle that his mother wasn’t, at this point. He just wanted to leave. Now. Roman stood, clearing his throat. “I’m afraid I need to use the restroom, as exciting as this conversation is,” he said.

“Oh, that’s quite all right, dear, I was about to suggest we head to the ballroom and send someone to fetch Damien so the two of you could practice your first dance,” the Queen said. “The bathroom is right down the hall, and anyone in the castle can tell you where the ballroom is if you get lost.”

Roman nodded and left quickly, rushing through the halls and finding refuge in the bathroom as he took a shaky breath and gripped the counter with white knuckles. “You can get through it, Roman,” he breathed, staring at himself in the mirror. He hated the long brown hair he was forced to sport, now falling into his face, but he reminded himself he would be getting it cut the day of the wedding. “Damien even said you could get through it. It’ll hurt like hell, but if he thinks you can do it, and Remus thinks you can do it, and even the tailor thinks you can do it, then no matter what doubts you have, you can get through this. It doesn’t have to be unscathed. That’s what therapy later down the road is for.” He started to laugh slightly hysterically at that. “You just have to get through it. Reach the finish line. Everything that comes after that is after that. Not something you have to worry about now.”

Leaning back to assess himself in the mirror, Roman splashed some water on his face and took a deep breath, leaving the room and heading in the direction he assumed the ballroom was.

Eventually, he was rewarded with the entrance to a rather large room, with that horrendous bright yellow covering the walls. Damien was standing there, waiting for him. “Good morning, my dear,” Damien said. “I managed to convince our mothers to step away for a moment, so that we can talk alone, and get the awkwardness out of the way without them.”

Roman offered a smile and nodded. “Sounds good,” he said.

Logan approached the two of them from somewhere that Roman couldn’t see, and said, “Shall we get the positioning done?”

Damien nodded with a small smile and Roman offered a nervous grin. “I apologize in advance for crushing your toes,” he told Damien.

“No matter, my dear,” Damien said. “Did you listen to the song I told my mother about?”

“I did, and I think it’s perfect,” Roman said, genuinely smiling. “Honestly, the thought that anyone would do something like that for me is almost unbelievable, but if you think it applies...well, I’m certainly not going to say no to such a beautiful song.”

Damien offered Roman a grin. “Perfect,” he said. “I was hoping you would enjoy it. Logan will take us through the steps of a waltz, and once you think you have it down, we can practice with the music.”

“First, you two need to get your hands in the right positions,” Logan said.

“I know this part, at least,” Roman breathed, taking Damien’s left hand in his right, and putting his other hand on Damien’s shoulder, and Damien got in position as well.

“All right. Now, let’s take the first step. Damien, you’ll lead. That means you take a left step forward, and Roman takes a right step back.”

They did so, and all the while Roman’s heart was thudding in his chest. He really didn’t want to trip Damien up.

“Very good. Now, Damien, you’ll take your right foot and move it forward in a diagonal, and Roman, you take your left and move back in the same manner,” Logan instructed.

And no sooner did they try it than Roman accidentally kicked Damien in the shins. Damien winced. “Gah, I’m so sorry!” Roman exclaimed.

“It’s not a problem, my dear, let’s keep going,” Damien said.

“This next part should be easy, you bring your feet back together. Roman, this will be your right, and Damien, your left.”

Roman nodded and together, they made the step. Roman giggled nervously.

“Now, we will repeat these same three steps in reverse,” Logan said. “And try not to kick anyone in the process.”

Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan, but looking down at his feet, he managed to not kick Damien in the shins again. “All right, that will be the bulk of the dance,” Logan said, walking over and forcing Roman’s chin up. “But you can’t look at your feet as you dance, Roman.”

“That’s going to be hard, and result in a lot of kicking,” Roman said, turning red in embarrassment.

“Be that as it may, you cannot stare at your feet for the duration of the dance, so try to keep your head up as you practice. Now let’s try again,” Logan said.

Tag List: @lunareclipse-13 @sanders-sides-crofters @blushy-gigglee-mess @wannacrymetoo @kaytikitty @magicalspacepanunicorn @bootsinthesun​ @pricklyfish777 @flowersanddinosaurs @leiasolo77 @birdybabybird @enby-phoenix @luna–28 @justagaygoose @the-prince-and-the-emo @fandomsandanythingelse @randommuffinyt @snekky-boi @thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot @twilight-trix @abby5577 @escalatingtoofast​ @friendlyfacestabbing @remus-is-stinky​ @foggybanditdreampeanut @ghostskull300​ @sprinklestheditty @canvas-the-florist​ @askthesnake​ @samuel-the-gay​ @determination-saved @beyondthestacks​ @juicy-cashew​ @loganpatton​ @lilbeanblr @kittyboof8 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @sanders-trash-4ever @hamilspntrash @swords-and-kittens @phantomfander @narniasfinestavengingsociopath  @rjmeta​ @ambersky0319 @anni-cat-flower @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @nafsbluebery​ @redisawerewolf23 @voidvirgil

[loveandwarandmagick]

Rose-Colored Boy

yeah ,, i used a paramore song for my title ,,,, it’s cool we’re ignoring that

anyway this is my first fic n’ woW it took me almost the whole day to write this and i really hope you all enjoy it ! happy valentine’s day babes <3

summary: baz is in love and hates valentine’s day for this reason. intro the love of his life who ruins his plans to have a pity party with his aunt, with his own disaster on his hands. baz helps, like a lovesick fool

word count: 3,611 (lmao wow that’s a LOT)

   Valentine’s Day used to be Baz’s least favorite and most favorite holiday.

   Although classes weren’t ever canceled to celebrate the day, (that’d be an absolute nightmare with all the bloody couples at Watford), Baz remembers his father offering him the choice to stay home every year without fail. “Oh Basil,” he’d say, not laughing, but there was amusement in his tone, “It’s not like you’ll do anything important in your lessons anyways.” And they hadn’t, not in all the years that he’d missed. When he returned the next day, all the teachers remarked on how he’d missed out on making cards. As a child, he didn’t think to miss it, only relished in the break from making pink paper cards with the teachers and sealing the envelope with a charm that would unfold the card like origami. 

   Even if that break was spent being tugged along by his Aunt Fiona through the pink and red swarmed aisles of cheap candy and watching her shove multiple things in a cart at once.

    Then after his fifth year - the absolute worst year- when all he could do was figure out that his feelings for Snow were so much more intense than he thought, coming home on Valentine’s was basically an obligation. He wasn’t stupid enough to spend all day in classes with the great love of his life, who was also his worst enemy, and on top of that, his roommate. Watching him parade around with his new girlfriend, and by default due to her status, Baz’s second worst enemy, was not at all worth it. Not even to escape Fiona’s lovelorn quest to buy every single piece of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia in the supermarket.

     It wasn’t a sudden thing. Finding out that his feelings were just as intense as they used to be but on the opposite end of a spectrum was a slow thing to come. It was in December, perhaps. When the cold forced him inside earlier than usual and put Snow to sleep as soon as the sunset. He’d spend hours in bed staring at Snow, loathing everything he was. Everything he had; a gorgeous face, a future, a destiny. He’d had more friends than he could count on both hands, and Baz had only two. And besides friends, he’d had people who’d simply enjoyed being around him, who wanted to be in his life. Perhaps it was the magic, but maybe it was just him.

     He drove himself insane with the wanting until his thoughts had shifted to wanting Simon. Yes, Baz was undeniably jealous of everything he had, but it was also the boy. His sweet smile and his freckled face and that lovely voice. And though it may have not been a quick realization, as soon as he figured it out, it tormented him. Simon haunted his thoughts and his room, throwing glares and stammering arguments back at Baz, who’d started them. If only to hear him say his name again, to be addressed if only for a moment, by the boy he loved.

 Utterly in love, and oh, so hopeless.

   So he finds himself now, in their seventh year at Watford, packing his trunk for the ride to Fiona’s apartment, (she’s decided to stay in and wait for the day after to buy clearance candy.) Heaven knows who she’s been heartbroken over for the past seven years, but Baz doesn’t exactly feel entitled to ask. As someone who’s living through the definition of unrequited love though, he figures that he’ll leave early to surprise her. Maybe they’ll rent a rom-com. “Or maybe,” he can hear her say, “We can go out and make fun of the couples. For culture, of course.”

 He shakes the grin off his face at the thought, as his thoughts inevitably run back to Snow and his lovely relationship, still going two years later. There were times when Baz thought he had a chance. Times when Snow would stare at him from across the room, every room. When instead of arguing back, he’d only remain silent and turn over on his bed, facing the wall. Baz has only guessed that things had ended with Agatha, but they appeared fine the next day, hands clasped and polite smiles shared over breakfast. He’d know, he watched them constantly. To no avail, he should add.

 So much for celebrating, he thought bitterly, biting his cheek as he shoved his last item carelessly into the trunk and closing the lid with a resounding thunk.

   Baz looks over at Snow’s empty bed, cursing his feelings and his thoughts and stupidly beautiful boys like Snow himself. He drops his head down onto the case, groaning at the dull pain in his head. Then again, a third thunk. Except, not from Baz slamming his suitcase shut, or from his dramatic, hopeless head drop on it either. This one is louder, coming from right outside their door. Before he can even spell the door open, the sound turns into incessant pounding, and suddenly the door swings open and in barrels Snow.

    Because Baz’s life is so gracious as to see him thinking of the bloody person who got him in this situation in the first place and to drop said angel right into his lap. Well, onto the floor in front of him. The love of his life is currently sprawled out on the rug, about two feet from Baz’s feet. He’s breathing hard, looking down at his hands like he’s shocked that they’re even there. Though it wouldn’t surprise Baz if they weren’t. (Snow’s shit at most spellwork.) He still won’t look up at him. Baz doesn’t even think that Snow knows he’s in the room, which wouldn’t make sense as he’s quite literally at his feet.

“Snow.”

Simon jerks his head up, blinking wildly up at Baz. Oh.

   He’s got tears in his eyes, which is alarming on its own. But there are little pink buds all over his face that look like - flowers? Whatever they are, he looks entirely unpleased with it. Baz could laugh because it’s truly a ridiculous sight, but seeing Snow cry sends him to his knees to marvel closer at his face. Truly, idiotically in love. Or maybe just idiotic.

   “I can’t imagine what sort of curse someone placed on you that would cause you to get such a terrible case of acne, Snow,” Baz sneers.

   Snow just makes a choked sort of sound and peers into Baz’s eyes, which makes him suck in a breath because Simon’s right there, and Baz is right here and completely hyperventilating. He focuses his eyes on a flower right between Snow’s blue eyes, noticing that the petals are the same color as the pink blush decorating his freckled face. The flowers are small, resembling tulips that haven’t bloomed yet.

  “Baz?” His voice is soft. Baz is pretty sure that he’s swooning. Dev once told him that his eyes gave away everything. “They tilt down at the corners when you’re into something,” he’d laughed, although they had been talking about lavender tea at the time.

  Crowley. Baz is sure he’s looking every bit of the mess that he feels, and still hasn’t responded to Simon, who’s staring at him intently. He probably should respond, instead of marveling. “What in the world did you do to your face?” He asks, which is a start. Perhaps a terrible one, because he really has no time to be wasted if he wants to make it before the traffic starts up, and he and Snow don’t exactly make a habit of sharing stories, so he’s not expecting much of anything except a sharp response.

   But Simon’s still sitting right in front of Baz, (so close that he can count just how many blooms are on his face - seven in total) and also Baz really doesn’t want to leave; he never wants to leave Simon. And then, surprisingly, he starts rambling. Not the standard routine of stammer, stutter, and pout that usually accompanies his constant arguing, but a full-on stream of words pouring off his tongue. 

  The blush gets darker every time he takes a breath. “Agatha spelled me. Some weird truth spell that wouldn’t work because it sounded too much like a compulsion spell. Then I had tried it and of course, it worked but she warned me about moderation in my tone because it was a very literal spell. And I told her that I knew that because of course, I did, but then I ended up covered in flowers and they keep popping up if I don’t tell the truth and I don’t even want to tell the truth but I don’t want to be a walking meadow by the time I get rid of it!”

  He breathes. Blushes harder. Damn him and his stupid flustered face. Even the flowers are changing colors to match the darkening of his cheeks.

“And of course Agatha just stares at me, saying ‘There you go Simon, even the romance is a disaster with you!’ Which is unbelievably rude in general, but on Valentine’s, it’s even worse and I really wish I’d stop telling you about this because I hate telling you about anything but I can’t find Penny-”

   A flower, a tiny pale pink one, pops up on his cheek. Both boys’ eyes go wide. The flower rapidly changes colors to match the other ones.

“Where’s the lie, Snow?”

“There’s no lie, I’m not sure why that happened, erm-”

Another flower sprouts from right above his eyebrow. His eyes squeeze shut.

   Baz’s chest flutters hopefully, idiotically. Because part of that statement, the part that matters and could’ve most definitely been false, is about hating Baz. Well, hating to talk to him. He’s not sure whether or not to take advantage of this, considering that Snow’s very distressed, and he just wants to make Snow feel better. Then again, he supposes he could do it while flustering him more, (flustering looks good on him.) Simon’s looking down now, having moved slightly away from Baz in his panic to backtrack on the statement. He’s playing with his hands.

“Snow.”

  “Pitch,” he says back. Indignantly, like he has the right to be upset while Baz is fighting every urge in his body screaming at him to hold those nervous fingers in his own hand, to calm him down and help him get rid of this spell.

Traffic is going to be hell when he leaves.

“Simon. Are you alright?” “Not at all.” And then, “You called me Simon?”

Baz frowns at him. “Is there a problem? Would you like me to address you as Snow?”

“Well yeah, it feels natural. I’m used to it,” he murmurs, looking back up at Baz. And then: not one, but two flowers.

   He breathes in sharply and mutters something under his breath. Okay, it’s not natural! I’m used to it but still-” A flower. On his chin. Snow looks like he’s about to burst into tears. 

“I like it when you call me Simon,” he says, gently. 

   No flower, but one of the ones on his forehead unfurls just a tiny bit when he says this. Baz is preoccupied with pretending that knowing this as the truth doesn’t make his breathing halt in his chest a bit, so he doesn’t exactly notice it when Simon shifts closer. Or how he can literally feel his eyes softening, his face nearly smiling, his head shifting just a bit closer to Simon’s own. The traitorous, hopeful, body of his has a mind of its own.

 “Oh Merlin, please help me,” he says, worrying his lip between his teeth. Baz thinks that he’d like to do so too. 

   He’s deliberate with his words, careful. This moment feels like glass, it’s too delicate to be shattered by carelessness. This is Snow being vulnerable. This is Baz loving it, loving him. “Simon,” he starts, “one of your flowers is bigger than the other.” Simon sniffs hard, and Baz thinks that maybe that made things worse, so he rushes along with his theory, (which is completely selfish and hopeful.) “No, it’s not bad, I don’t think. What spell did you cast?”

  He shakes his head, brow creasing further, “I can’t remember, something “pink colored-” he trails off. Baz shakes his head back, mirroring Simon and laughing softly to himself. He’s never heard anything like that, but flowers have to bloom before they’re picked. And when Simon told the truth, the flower opened up slightly- “Try telling the truth. Just true statements, things of that like.”

   For someone who is on the verge of tears, Snow deadpans excellently at his suggestion. “Oh come off it, just try it.” He sighs, shifting away again while Baz screams (in his head) at the distance between them. “I am in this room with Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”

    No flower shifts, nor does a new one appear. Baz glances down at his watch and figures that he’s really going to be stuck in traffic for a while. If he ever even leaves, (although no one could pay him to leave right now. He supposes that Fiona can wait another day for their pity party.)

  “Agatha mentioned that it was romantic, but I can’t think of any way that an anti-lie spell could help us in the romance department. We both knew that our relationship needed help anyway,” he mutters, and the flower on his cheek opens up about halfway. Simon’s eyes go wide as he sniffs again, harder this time like he’s crying. Baz tries to ignore the way his chest turns into a vacuum, sucking up all the air in the room at hearing Simon say this, at the tulip bursting open on his cheek. He tries to and fails miserably.

  His voice cracks as he starts, excited and bubbly and every bit as nervous as he feels, “Simon, say the truth. Just say what’s on your mind - I think that’s what it is!” He’s nodding rapidly and Snow’s doing it too, and the pair of them look like two deranged bobble-heads but this is working and Baz can’t lie and say that he’s not excited to help too. “Holy crap, Penny’s going to flip when I tell her about this!”

   One pink tulip starts to shift, and Simon’s eyes are shining. He’s beaming, so relieved that he’s laughing and falling forward. Closer to Baz. So close that his curls are falling onto Baz’s chest and Baz has to stop himself from touching him. (He could, he wants to.)

“I’ve never been so relieved in my life!”

“Agatha breaking things off with me felt better than being in our relationship did.”

“Valentine’s Day sucks anyway!”

  One by one, the petals unfurl, giving way to huge roses. So, not tulips then. Simon’s stopped laughing since then, but his eyes are still shining. All that’s left is the rose on his shoulder; the rest fell off as soon as they bloomed fully. Baz’s heart is beating erratically in his chest, mostly about everything he said about Agatha. The only thing running through his head is “breaking things off with me,” on repeat.

  “There’s one left,” he remarks.  Quietly, and once he feels like he can speak without squeaking. So that Simon doesn’t remember that they hate each other. So that Baz can entertain his heart, just a bit. “I said everything that’s been on my mind since the morning, I can’t imagine how I could get rid of it.”

A spot where an old flower just fell from starts to grow red and Simon frowns.

   Baz raises an eyebrow. “I’d be careful there Snow, you don’t want another case on your hands.”

   Simon raises one back. Baz breathes in and out, like someone who didn’t just have a mild heart attack. Baz tries to sound steady as he speaks, “I’m sure you’re meant to say everything on your mind. So out with it.”

   “I don’t think I can uh,” Simon starts, every bit the stuttering mess that he is. “It’s just weird? Like, I don’t think that I could say something that wouldn’t change things in like, a really, uh, weird way?” He flushes again, the rose on his shoulder beginning to quiver the slightest bit. Baz nods encouragingly at him, scooting closer so that their knees are touching. “That’s fine Simon, I just need you to say it. Not that it isn’t lovely to watch you suffer at the hands of your own mistakes.”

   At this, Simon’s head snaps up and he scowls at Baz, who is fighting back his own soft smile. There’s some feeling in the air, something like tension. When Simon’s hand comes up, Baz thinks that he’s about to get punched, but very slowly. And then Simon tilts his head to the side and lets his fingers wrap around a loose piece of hair framing Baz’s face.

   Fuck being punched, this is being hit by a car. Baz’s heart is slamming against his chest and surely he’s making the most idiotic face but none of that matters because Simon Snow is practically playing with his hair and Baz Pitch is dying slowly. He looks down, dropping his hand. “When I got closer to you, I did it on purpose. I felt like I needed to thank you for helping me out.”

“Just now, I grabbed your hair because I’ve never noticed it until just this moment and I really wanted to touch it.”

Baz is currently thanking every single possible entity that he didn’t leave sooner.

    “One time I read a book and one of the quotes was about thinking something and finding it very hard to unthink. That quote crossed my mind for whatever reason and then I thought about how much I really didn’t hate you at this moment. And well...”

     He shrugs, looking up at Baz who is very, very aware that their lips are too close together, closer than before Simon started talking. Simon’s eyes are shining blue, and his face is all spotted red from where the flowers fell out, and his eyebrows are honestly shaped quite terribly, but Baz has never been more in love and he thinks he might kiss him. It might be worth it, even if Simon pushed him away and cursed him horribly for it. But he did say all that. 

    “Look, I kinda really want to kiss you? So I’m going to do that if that’s alright with you?”

     Simon’s leaning in and Baz is really trying to not hyperventilate and suddenly, the rose on his shoulder puffs out, scattering rose petals all over Baz, who is trying very hard not to cry as Simon collapses into giggles next to him. “Oh the look on your face, Baz! You looked like I’d shot you or something,” he laughs, dragging a hand through his curls as he brushes rose petals from his shirt.

    “Yeah well Snow, excuse me for being surprised that you would take your pranks to a romantic level,” he sighs, standing up and stepping over Simon, who’s stopped laughing abruptly and is scrambling up to his feet.

      “Hey, no wait, you git!” He’s reaching out to Baz, who is gathering his trunk faster than he’s ever done anything and is really hoping to get out of the door before he starts crying, like the moron he is. The absolute fool that he’s always been, to love Simon and to have hope in the first place. “Baz can you wait?”

   “No, I can not,” he hisses back, wanting nothing more than to kiss this ridiculous boy and never see him again. Simon throws his hands up, going over to him and taking him by the shoulders and Baz lets him because he’s weak and hope is a thing very alive in his chest. “Snow,” he says.

    “I already told you that I preferred you call me Simon,” he frowns, letting go of Baz but stepping closer all the same.

“Snow-”

    “Simon,” he says again, touching his forehead to Baz’s. It only works because he’s on his tip-toes. It works because Baz has stepped closer too. He opens his mouth, fully planning to never say the name “Simon,” again, but said boy cuts him off once again. “Don’t say anything,” he whispers, inching so close that their lips are brushing with every word that he speaks and god, Baz is absolutely hopeless, “Unless it’s my name,” he finishes, finally pressing their lips together.

    Simon’s hands are in his hair and he’s smiling, Baz can feel it, so he pulls away gently. “Simon,” he says, smiling. He kisses him again, harder this time until Simon starts giggling.

   “We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, feeling every bit like the lovesick fool he is.

   “Okay,” Simon says back, biting his lip. Biting back another sunshine grin.

Baz glances down at his trunk, still leaning on the wall. So does Simon.

  “Are you going somewhere? I wouldn’t have minded it so much when I thought you hated me, but in light of recent events, I think that maybe you could be my valentine?”

To: Fiona

i’ve got plans this v-day, Fi. i take it you’ll manage without me?

From: Fiona

was just about to cancel on you for my date tonight. have fun without me, alright?

To: Fiona

will do

From: Unknown Number

Would you please let Simon know that the spell is called “Rose-Colored Boy,” and that it’s for confessing since he let his phone die so carelessly and asked me to help? Thx - Penelope Bunce

To: bunce

i’m not going to ask how you got my number, bunce. will lend him my charger 

[rapha-reads]

The God Complex - review

The God Complex (6x11) is such a great episode.

I keep watching and rewatching it, discovering new details, understanding new layers of interpretations ...

Also every time, I scream at my screen : “It’s not about fear ! It’s not what you’re scared of ! It’s about faith !”. I never totally understand what it means exactly, though ... Which is partly why I keep rewatching it.

Long post ahead.

Tl;dr : this episode is such an important episode to understand the dynamics between the Doctor, Amy and Rory. It tells a lot in terms of who the Doctor is, what he wants, and it gives hints as to where we’re going, both in series 6 and beyond - you can draw parallels with both Twelve and Thirteen based on this episode alone. It’s a dive into the Doctor’s psyche and it has so many great quotes and awesome moments.

I love that Rory is shown a exit door as soon as he arrives. I love Rory, point.

And Rita ! She was such a great character ! Curse you, showrunners, for killing off all the amazing characters who could have been such perfect companions. 

“Why is it up to you to save us ? That’s quite the God Complex you’ve got there.’

Damn I love that quote. It is so exactly accurate. 

“Offer a child a suitcase full of sweets, they’ll take it. Offer someone all of time and space and they’ll take that, too.”

Talk about great Doctor’s quotes. All of us Whovians, we are this child. If the Doctor were to land on our doorstep, we wouldn’t even hesitate, we would go with them, even though we know what happens when we travel with the Doctor, we know how it can transform us - both in good and in bad (remember ... what is Davros or Dalek Caan ... in Journey’s End : “you take these people and you turn them into soldiers”. Remember Martha ?).

The Doctor’s door is the number 11.

“Who else ?” - Aaaaaargh, I hate that. Because I never totally get who he’s talking about. The chimes are the sound the Tardis makes when it’s in danger - when it’s exploded during Pandorica. But “who” ? Is he talking about himself ? The War Doctor ? That’s my theory. I’d need to go research that some time.

“Block out the fear and stay focused on your belief.”

NO. That’s the complete opposite of what it’s about. The Minotaur feeds on belief, not fear !

“Goodbye, Doctor. Thank you for trying.”

That’s exactly what the Doctor hates. Not losing someone he cares about - everybody hates that. But losing when he thinks he understands, when he thinks he can save the day. Losing, in short. In a way the Doctor is ... afraid of failure. It’s not so much about saving people (planets - civilisations - the whole goddamn universe) as it is about winning his battles. Which is why Trenzalore is so fitting. The Doctor is a General who has to fight and win because what else did they survive the Time War for ?

 Damn, the music in this episode. Murray Gold is a genius.

Ow. The look of utter desolation when he finally gets it.

“They all believed there’s something guiding, about to save them. That’s what it replaces. Every time someone was confronted with their most primal fear, they fell back on their most fundamental faith.”

And there it is. And the thing that really kills the Doctor : “I made you expose your faith.” He blames himself for not understanding sooner, and also for putting Amy and Rory in ever more danger. 

And we finally get to the crux of the episode ! It doesn’t want Rory. Rory is pragmatic, stoic, and he doesn’t treat the Doctor as an al-powerful superior being. It wants Amy. Because Amy built her whole life around the Doctor. The girl who waited. The Doctor’s best friend - his mother-in-law ! The first face this face saw. It’s all about Amy having put too much of her into believing, following the Doctor. 

Also, there’s this very tiny moment when the Doctor says to Amy “your faith in me - that’s what brought us here”.

LOOK AT RORY’S FACE. Remember in Day of the Moon, when he says that he thought Amy was talking about the Doctor ? Rory has so many insecurities, but his number one fear is that he is not good enough for Amy. He loves her so much and he wants to be worthy of her so much, it breaks my heart ! Our last Centurion. Waited two thousand years for her. Doesn’t believe in his own worth, how do you want him to put faith in anything else ! Rory is such an incredible character, because when we first met him in series 5, he was inconspicuous - nobody really saw him. Not even Amy who ran away from her wedding. And then he hopped on the Tardis, agreed to follow Amy wherever she went, and in doing so, he finally grew in his own skin. He became so fleshed out, so complex, and so compelling ! Kudos to Arthur Darvill, seriously. I could write pages on Rory and his own journey towards self-esteem and believing in himself.

“I’m not a hero. I really am just a madman in a box. And it’s time we saw each other as we really are.”

That is the first time the Doctor calls Amy by her married name - accepting to see her as more than little Amelia Pond who waited and waited, but as Amy Williams, the incredible woman that she is. And I love the fact that each of them seeing the other as they really are doesn’t take anything from their relationship - they’re still total best friends, but now they can accept each other’s flaws and failures. It’s not about losing faith in each other, it’s about gaining another sort of faith : the one that’s not absolute and unconditional, but that is true and deep no matter who or what the other is or does. Real friendship.

“What do Time Lords pray to ?”

YES I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW AS WELL.

Okay, the Minotaur’s last words are truly amazing :

“An ancient creature, drenched in the blood of the innocent. Drifting in space through an endless shifting maze. For such a creature, death would be a gift.”

This is such an important characteristic of the Doctor. Especially the Eleventh - who had a dark side so much big. Eleven wanted it to end. He was ready to accept that this was his last regeneration. He was ready to die - he had had enough. Enough years, enough travels, enough loss, enough battles ... Which is why Twelve was so dark (yes, Twelve was dark, fight me) - because he never wanted that life. And which is why Thirteen is so bubbling and cheerful - she has accepted that it’s her lot in this universe to keep going. It’s what Twice Upon A Time is about, showing the Doctor that there is no easy way out for them.

To conclude, The God Complex is a complex (pun intended) and fascinating episode that keeps on revealing even after 50 watchings. 

[bikelock28]

The God Complex

Aka The Bogart Hotel - I bloody love this one. On repeat viewing it’s slightly more heavy-handed than I remember, but it’s so physiological, creepy, surprising, claustrophobic. - Toby Whithouse is my favourite DW writer (his others are Vampires, School Reunion, Town Called Mercy and the Under The Lake 2-part in S9). He writes cracking dialogue and he really understands the characters. I love his cynical view of the Doctor. - This episode is basically The Matt Smith Show. One of his best performances in the role, right up there with Asylum, Astronaut/Moon and A Christmas Carol. He looks so alien (thanks to all those close-ups) and you get a lot of 11's physicality- the looking-for-something walk, the angry walk, the spins, the chucking props, the twitch-wink, his little shadow-box at Rory at the end. - His face when Rita says “Even alien fake hotels”. He looks so delighted and intrigued. - ...and his genuine joy and interest when she mentions she’s Muslim. Rita responds dryly, “Don’t be scared” and the Doctor does one of his I-don’t-understand laughs. It’s a lovely scene that one- the Doctor meeting someone and just being impressed by them. His “I like you. You’re a right clever-clogs" is casual and genuine. I like the way he later decides that she can come and travel with him, with no thought to how Amy and Rory will feel about, and no consideration to discuss it with them. - On the other hand, I don’t think the actress playing Rita is especially good. Howie though, he’s great. - Joe's Oranges & Lemons and "Gottle o' geer, gottle o' geer" are dead creepy. - Back to Smith: His disgust/admiration for Gibbus’ people is interesting. - Aaaww and he’s just so excited about everything, never mind the creepiness. “Oh you beauty!” - ...and then at the end he goes and breaks your bloody heart. The final moment- him alone in the TARDIS, turning around slowly, afraid of what's (not) there but more afraid of himself. - (He's also got a love-bite on his neck, left-hand side as you look at him. You can see it in the wide-shot in the scene where he's talking to Rita, and in the close-up when he finds Howie's corpse. Evidently Smith's girlfriend had popped up to Cardiff, although River is a handy in-universe explanation). - Why is Joe's Bogart Room the whole dining room? - This one must have been dead cheap to make because there's only 1 simple set, and evidently cos of that the crew went nuts with the camera work. There's lots of close ups, there's the CCTV, there's a few terrific shots from above the stairs. I like the bit where the Doctor's smashing the bar and you can only just see it ( I love it when the Dr is angry). And then the super-cool set scene where he's talking to the Minotaur through the water. - "We're all going to die here" "Well. They certainly didn't mention that in the brochure". - Amy doesn't fare to well in this. That's partly on Gillan, but also because she's pretty wet and passive throughout the whole thing.

- Rory does OK, especially this bit:DOCTOR: Have you found your room yet? 

RORY: No. No. Is that good or bad? DOCTOR: Maybe you're not scared of anything. RORY: Well, after all the time I spent with you in the TARDIS, what was left to be scared of? DOCTOR: You said that in the past tense. RORY: No, I didn't. [Pause]. You know, Howie had been in speech therapy. He'd just got over this massive stammer. What an achievement. I mean, can you imagine? I'd forgotten not all victories are about saving the universe. - Whithouse doesn't do a great job of writing Amy and Rory together though. A lot of their scenes are rather awkward and abrupt. - Britwatch: Gibbus, the ratty dude, is played by British comedian David Walliams (yeah, with an A). He's in a double-act with Matt Lucas, who currently plays Nardole. - I never knew how scary teenage girls are until this ep. - "Offer a child a suitcase full of sweets and they'll take it. Offer someone all of time and space and they'll take that, too- which is why you shouldn't....which is why grown-ups were invented". - I like how Gibbus is the survivor- like in Voyage Of The Damned, it's the one we were rooting for the least. - I just noticed how in the scene where the Dr breaks Amy's faith in him, at the end Little Amelia is not longer sitting on her suitcase like she was at the beginning. She's not waiting for him anymore. - Why is Amy's fear of her younger self? Is the fear of the Doctor not coming back for her? - The final scene: OK first, that isn't the real TARDIS. It's bigger, squarer, a different shade of blue and not quite painted properly (and how the hell did they find it again in the hotel?). Second, I love how suddenly we're outside after all the claustrophobia of the hotel. - Looking at the script, it's actually a pretty short scene- Whithouse leaves a lot in the hands of the actors. The saddest thing is how Amy and the Dr both accept that he is leaving. - "Rory, could you give us a couple of minutes"- oh shut up Amy, Rory deserves to be in this convo as much as you do. - "What's the alternative? Me standing over your grave?" Eyyyyyyyy #JustYouWait - Love the image of Dr and Amy leaning on the car. Love how when she hugs him he presses his face into her shoulder and she strokes his hair- like he is the child. - Whithouse gets basically the 2 tragedies of the Dr's existence into this scene; 1. "Look after him" "Look after you"- at the end of the day, he's alone. Nobody is an "always" for the Doctor. 2. "Or maybe there's a bigger, scarier adventure for you in there"- he envies humans. Their life is the one thing he can't have (this was much more a 10 theme than 11, so I'm glad it pops up here). - He also wrote School Reunion- interesting to compare Rose's offence at the idea that the Dr will abandon her to Amy's acceptance of it. - "Have you forgotten your PE kit again? That's it, you're doing it in your pants!"