#'remember your roots' can you imagine if I said that about like. dw. like 'we have to keep casting old white men in the title roll FOREVER

[musical-chick-13]

Okay, I'm sorry (this is too petty to put in the tags) but I really don't understand all the "vote for this ship because of The History™" like...polls aren't about "which ship do you find more historically significant" they are "which one do you like more" what is so hard to understand about this.

[honeybeesiness]

an unholy holiday.

‎slight spoilers for chapters 16+! there aren’t too many spoilers tho, so dw uwu.

word count: 1.7k.

‎

‎‎‎

one fried scorpion sandwich.

A week and a half had passed since Diavolo’s holiday announcement, and with each passing day you grew more and more excited. The butterflies gnawed at your stomach on a daily basis, and you had an extra pep in your step when you would traverse the hallway to your next class. Based on the not-so-subtle looks Diavolo had been giving Mammon at the meeting, Mammon was the one who suggested that they do all this for you. You didn’t think Mammon had it in him to think of others, and you sure as hell didn’t realize that he had picked up on the melancholic homesickness that had rooted itself within you. But you were appreciative of his effort regardless of whether you noticed it before or not; It just showed how much Mammon cared about your happiness. You would be sure to thank him when his selected day came.

Today was the fourteenth of December, and to make the whole event a lot more easier, Diavolo had given you and the others a break from school.

“Don’t students in the human world have a winter break as well?” Diavolo had said to you when you went to thank him for the nearly two weeks off. He wasn’t wrong, and you were glad that he was at least a little in-tune with the usual in human highschools.

On your nightstand, your schedule lay crumpled from being shoved into your pocket too many times, and you swiped it up immediately after you woke up. “Let’s see...” Today was your day with Beel, great! You wondered if he had anything planned, and if he didn’t, then you were sure you could think of something. Beel’s mind was always open as long as food was part of the plan, so there would be a lot of things you two could do. Could he balance? Ice skating might be fun... Did Devildom even have a rink? You’d have to ask Lucifer or Diavolo about that one later. But for now, breakfast was your next course of action before you and Beelzebub would head off.

Once your hair was thoroughly brushed and your “Formerly Anti-Lucifer League” hoodie (courtesy of Belphegor. You, him, and Satan all had identical hoodies in honor of the Lucifer harassment squad you were unwillingly dragged into) was slid onto your person, you kicked on your shoes and went to open the door, only to find that Beelzebub was on the other side, hand raised into a fist like he was just about to knock. How polite, you mused.

“G’mornin’!” You greeted happily with a smile. “You headin’ to breakfast too? Let’s go together!” You took a step forward, but the ginger stopped you in your tracks. “Huh?”

“We’re not going to the dining room just yet. I ha-” He started, but you cut him off.

“What?!” You blurt impulsively. “But Lucifer’s gonna kill us if we don’t go to breakfast! D’you remember what happened to Mammon that one time he skipped breakfast last month?! He looked DRAINED when he sat next to me in Devildom History class!” You had more to say, but you shut your mouth soon after you said your last statement. You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck, “Ah, sorry for interuptin’.”

Beel’s eyes held no ill-will, and he only smiled. He liked hearing your voice, but sometimes you talked too much. He knew you were aware of the fact that you had a tendency to run your mouth, but at least you knew when to stop yourself.

“It’s okay.” He yawned, and you yawned in turn. You cursed at yourself internally for catching the yawn-disease. “But I got permission from Diavolo to skip.”

“Oooh, is this for our thing today?”

“Yep, but mine’s a surprise. Close your eyes.”

“Oh, fine.” You begrudgingly agreed, doing as he said and letting your eyelids swoop shut. You felt something touch your hand, and you narrowed it down to Beel holding your hand to guide you to wherever he was planning to take you. His hand was warm, contrary to your cold palms, and his practically wrapped around your small one.

The two of you left your doorway, and you heard him close it before you two for real headed off. You thought he would be taking you somewhere farther away, but it turns out that the steps you took were minimal, and you both had arrived before you knew it. You had an idea of where you were, because, well. Come on, it’s Beelzebub we’re talking about here! He always has his mind set on one thing and it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After you heard a heavy door close, you were once more pulled along, and said door was shut behind you.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

And when you did, your suspicions were indeed correct. Beelzebub had taken you to the kitchen, as expected, and you sent him a curious look. “I knew it. What kind of stuff do you have in mind?”

“An eating contest.” He said simply, but at that your eyes widened so much that they nearly bulged out of your head. An eating contest?! Against Beelzebub of all people?! Oh, you were certain that you were going to lose. Why would he pick this out of everything else? Did he like seeing you suffer in defeat after he inhaled practically everything off of his plate in a matter of seconds?! You never took Beel to be the type to relish in your misery, since he was usually pretty peaceful compared to the rest of his brothers, so what was this all for?

You didn’t hesitate to voice your complaints, watching as he turned to rummage in one of the cabinets for who knows what. “An eating contest?! Beel, you know that I’m going to lose, so why’d you pick this?! Are you a...” You trailed off as the man pulled out two large plates, each holding a mountain of cookies, and balanced them on his palms. You were actually pretty surprised that he didn’t eat them already. Were they baked in advance? Did Beel make them? You didn’t know he could cook or bake, but maybe he could. There was also a possibility that either Luke or Barbatos made them, but you wouldn’t know until you asked. You licked your lips, suddenly aware of how hungry you were. “...Hey, wait. Those actually look pretty good.”

“Barbatos made them. I tried one right after the first batch came in, they’re really good.” Beel answered, and you swore you could see the drool forming at the corner of his mouth. He was just as eager to dig in as you were. “This isn’t an eating contest to see who would finish first, though.” He grinned. “I asked Barbatos to bake a jellybean into one of the cookies and randomly place it in the pile. Whoever eats the jellybean cookie first wins.”

You slapped your hands together and rubbed them up and down. Now this was fair! With Beelzebub being a fast eater, you’d imagine that he doesn’t exactly take the time to enjoy his food. You, on the other hand, were sensitive to any kinds of changes in flavor in food (you called yourself the “ultimate taste tester” because of it), and you were certain that you’d be able to tell a jellybean apart from a thick frosted sugar cookie. “Hell yeah, I’m in. What do we get if we win?”

“I want a few dozen fried scorpion sandwiches from Hell’s Kitchen if I win.” Beel sounded certain, but you weren’t surprised. You just hoped you had enough Grimm to pay for it all... “What do you want?”

You thought for a moment. “Hard question. Umm...” After thinking for a few more seconds, a devilish smirk appeared on your face, and Beel fidgeted nervously at the sight of it. If he was going to make you spend your own Grimm on a few dozen fried scorpion sandwiches, then you’re going to ask for something much, much worse as payback. “I want Levi’s Softbun password.”

Beelzebub visibly shuddered. Getting Levi’s Softbun password was next to impossible, since the otaku refused to write it down and had instead committed it to memory. That meant the only way anyone could get the password would be if Levi trusted the person enough to give it to them themselves. But the choice was made, and Beel knew that there would be no way to change your mind.

“You know how hard that’s gonna be.” He said, pushing one of the plates across the table to you. You caught it and positioned it in front of you.

“Yeah, which is why I asked! Are you ready?” You readied yourself, hand hovering over the plate. You looked up at Beel, and he nodded. “Go!”

You then proceeded to shove the first three cookies you could grab into your mouth. They were really good, a perfect representation of Barbatos’ immense skill, but they tasted a lot like the frosted sugar cookies you’d buy at Bullseye, which were just as delicious. Now that you think about it, your dad might like to try these, so maybe after this you could go and ask Barbatos for the recipe. You just hoped that the ingredients weren’t things that could only be found in Devildom...

The cycle repeated again and again. You both would munch on cookies without a single word, trying to find that one jellybean-infested cookie. You were starting to feel full, but you didn’t dare mention it. You had to feel confident in yourself in order to win! You were only able to breathe when you bit into a cookie and it was... unusually squishy. Pulling the treat away from your mouth and eyeing the middle, you gleefully noticed that there was, in fact, half a pink jellybean lodged into the baked dough.

Slamming your free hand against the table, you raised the cookie in the air. “I win! Levi’s Softbun password shall be mine!”

You stood triumphantly as Beelzebub only grinned, though the expression was a bit pained. “Congratulations.”

You took note of the way his smile was not the happiest almost immediately, and you placed a hand on your hip. “What’s that face for? Aww, are you having a hard time coming up with how to get that password? Ha, sucks to be you!”

After surveying the remnants of the baked dessert and popping the cookie in your hand in your mouth, you were beginning to think that maybe Christmas in Devildom wasn’t so bad after all, because this first impression sure was a good one. ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎

Softbun is the Obey Me! counterpart of Crunchyroll while Bullseye is just Target :”)

taglist: @wetleafwrites :: @midnight-moodlet​ 

^^ first time doing a taglist, but just ask me if you want to be on it! i’ll be adding y’all on it starting with the day two post.

[redrobin-detective]

All Together Now

I’ve been feeling nostalgic and watching some Doctor Who again (ah back to my roots) and I wrote so much DW fic back in the day that I thought I’d share an old favorite. A story in which all 11 (this was written in 2013, just after the 50th so no Capaldi or Whittaker) Doctors meet each other in true disaster fashion. It was fun dialogue and opportunity to flex on my ridiculous amount of DW knowledge. (7′s spectrox toxemia comment to 5, still funny seven years later)

XxX

The Eleventh Doctor was having quite a nice relaxing day. He was bored with it already but he was certainly having it. He stared out at the dark purple waves of Atrios wondering where he would go next. He had dropped Amy and Rory off a while back after the scare at the alien motel and he just couldn't quite get back into the swing of adventuring, not yet anyway. He missed them, plain and simple, and the TARDIS just seemed so lifeless without them.

"Oi, you with the bowtie, would you give me a hand?" The Doctor jumped slightly and considered not turning; actually to be honest he considered getting up and running away screaming. Of course he recognized that voice, how could he not? A few centuries ago he had been speaking in that voice. "Really, it will only take a mo and then you can go back to your sulking." The Doctor scowled and turned around to face his previous incarnation.

"I am not sulking; I was just enjoying the scenery." He looked back over his shoulder at the purple waves, he supposes they were a bit dull. The other Doctor, the tenth version anyway, rolled his eyes.

"Right I forgot never to underestimate the entertainment levels of human tourists. You lot act as if you've never seen an alien ocean." The Doctor quirked an eyebrow, rude and not ginger, yes he was totally seeing it now. Well whatever, he was in it now so he'd better get ole Sandshoes here out of the way before a paradox ensued. How the hell did he not remember this?

"So what sort of help do you need so desperately that you interrupt my�� introspection."

"I came here with an Earth woman she has red hair and is very, very loud. I seem to have lost her, have you seen or rather heard her?" The Doctor, or really Eleven since there were two Doctors present, was so confused he couldn't even name the thing that confused him the most. First of all, he doesn't ever remember coming to Atrios with Donna. Second, shouldn't Ten have picked up on the fact that this man was not only a Time Lord but a future version of himself and three, Donna. Donna was here, he could see Donna again. He could talk about adventures and laugh with Donna. All three were very good reasons to stick close to Ten and find out just what was happening. He shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, but I could help you look for her, if you want…" Ten frowned suspiciously and Eleven couldn't help but feel vain about the wrinkles that appeared around his eyes and mouth. "You know, to get away from the sulking thing for a bit, you're right, I just said goodbye to some good mates and well-" Ten smiled and clapped him on the back, Eleven was mildly surprised nothing exploded. They began walking down the beach as Ten went off on a long ramble.

"Sure of course, I understand, come on. I do love chatting; I do it a lot apparently. Donna says I've got a gob that just doesn't stop and I tell her that she's not much better what with all her shouting and stuff. I'm sorry I've gone off again haven't I? What did you say your name was again?" Eleven blinked, would John Smith be too obvious?

"Er uh Rory, Rory Williams." Ten grinned.

"Well my name is…" His eyes darted to something over Eleven's shoulder and they widened to the size of saucers. Eleven almost turned but Ten stopped him finishing loudly. "Yes, and I am Wilfred, Wilfred Mott, lovely to meet you." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Ok Rory, act natural. I know this bloke but he doesn't know me yet. I'm a time traveler so this is possible, it'll be over soon. So just stay calm and act natural."

"Oi, hold up, I've got a question. Have you two stooges seen a young girl, about 19 or so with curly blonde hair?" Eleven sucked in his breath and bit his lip. This was bad and getting baderer by the second. As if dealing with Ten wasn't bad enough but now Nine pops up out of nowhere?

"Rose?" Ten choked out and Eleven wanted to roll his eyes. He forgot how that incarnation was nearly overwhelmed by his sentimentality for the London shop girl. Eleven frowned, he couldn't really blame him though, he wasn't much better with his little Amelia. Nine walked over to them with concerned look.

"Oh so you've seen her then, that's good. I've been looking for her for a while now, honestly I don't know what part of 'don't wander off' they don't they get."

Ten and Eleven exchanged a look in which Ten mimed a quick shush noise. It made the eldest Doctor want to tear his hair out. Here he was hiding from Ten who was now trying to convince him to hide from Nine. He was fairly certain this couldn't get any worse. Nine glared at them clearly getting impatient.

"If you two are done making faces at each other, would one of you point me in the direction of my companion? I'd like to get off this heap of rubble as soon as I can thank you very much." A discreet glance in Ten's direction told Eleven that his younger self was still too caught up in the thought of meeting his Rose again. He sighed and turned to address Nine.

"Um sorry mate, don't know any Roses here. My friend… Wilfred and I haven't seen anyone else and hopefully no one else unexpected pops along." Eleven said with a strained smile, the last part muttered under his breath. Ten seemed to snap out of his stupor and properly look at him for the first time. Eleven wasn't sure what would happen if they all started deducing identities but he'd rather not find out. While he was curious as to why Nine was here, this many Doctors in one area couldn't possibly be good.

"Pardon chaps!" The three Doctors froze as Eight all dressed to the nines – dear Rassilon he did not just think that- snuck up behind them. They all turned and gave him a thinly disguised grimace while the pretty faced man just kept smiling as if nothing were wrong. So this is before the Time War then, hard to imagine a time when he was that innocent. "Would one of you tell me where the nearest town is? Lucie wanted to do a bit of shopping or she did before I lost her. I suppose I should be asking if you've seen her about. She's about yeah tall, Northern accent, rather brash." Eight said with a small, kind smile.

"Nope, nuh-uh, none whatsoever!" Ten squeaked rocking on his heels while Nine took a few steps back. Eight regarded them all with a funny expression on his face as his gaze sharpened.

"Is everything alright? Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"No!" Nine said stepping forward with a menacing glare. Eleven winced a little; it appeared Nine was still wounded by his previous regeneration's actions during the war or lack there of perhaps. "And I think it's about time you got going you hussy." Eight took a step back in surprise only for a very distinctive umbrella to swing down in-between the two. Eight's surprise shifted from one Doctor to another as he turned to the newest member of the group.

"Now gentleman, I don't know what's going on between the two of you but you're grown men and I'd think you'd better start acting like it." Seven purred pulling his umbrella back and hooking it onto his arm. "Now really, what is going on here? And what are all you doing staring at me for?" Four Doctors turned to look at one another.

What in the name of Rassilon had he been drinking last night?

"Excuse me dear fellows." Seven's eyes widened as Five approached followed by a very pensive Six who hung back a little, probably to observe to his past self. "Is there a hospital nearby?" He asked jovially before subtly leaning forward gesturing his head back towards Six and whispering conspiratorially. "I don't think that man is quite stable, I think it's best if he got some proper rest." The group was all silence but he thinks he heard Nine muttering about the blasted coat under his breath to which Eleven wholeheartedly agreed. Which would makes sense as they were the same person after all. Eight cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry er Sir, but we're all tourists as well I'm afraid so we're just as lost as you are." He said trailing off slightly as he eyed the group before finally settling on Eleven. "Funny, I thought I'd gotten past the bowtie thing years ago." He mumbled quietly and Eleven huffed and indignantly straightened his very cool accessory. Oblivious, Five nodded a bit sadly casting a glance at Six.

"Yes, well I am a Doctor maybe I can do something on my own. I do wish I knew what had happened that would make him so peculiar." He paused and Seven brought his umbrella to his lips.

"A dose of spectrox toxaemeia and a hero complex will do that any day." The rest of the Doctors cleared their throats or coughed or just outright snorted. Five blinked as he eyed Seven.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that, did you say spectrox-"

"-toxaemia, yes it's a poison found primary on Androzani Minor in the Sirius system. A horrible way to go, or so, I've been told and I'm hoping not to find out myself truth be told." The Fourth Doctor interrupted smiling broadly while Five sputtered before readjusting his celery to cover the motion. The Fourth Doctor adjusted his hat and grinned manically. "Hello, I'm the Doctor; might I ask what's going on here?" Six finally seeming have lost interest in sulking, stepped forward and instinctively all the other Doctors reached forward to stop him from acting too rashly. Too late though.

"Well that's a fairly presumptuous question for you of all people to be asking, Doctor." He said, jabbing Four in the chest. "I think we really ought to be asking who you are and are you doing here?" There has got to be a small star exploding somewhere as five Doctors simultaneously face palmed. The Fourth Doctor blinked and not breaking eye contact reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag.

"Why my good man, I think you need a jelly baby."

"I don't believe I do thank you very much!" Six shouted tugging on his lapels. Seven stepped in and held his hands in a placating way.

"Gentlemen please there's no reason to shout." Six turned his glare onto his future self.

"Oh don't I? Just look at your jumper man. Who dressed you this morning? The Riddler?" Nine snorted at this.

"Oi have you looked in the mirror recently, thank God I got over that phase quickly enough." Six's annoyance melted as he took in the rest of large group as if noticing them for the first time. "Wait are you all...?"

"Did it really take you that long to work it out?" Four asked, biting of the head of a jelly baby. "I weep for my future." He rolled his eyes over in the direction of the older Doctors. Ten quirked an eyebrow in annoyance, "what?"

"Oh nothing," Four said tucking away his jelly babies. "Just looking at a future mid-life crisis, practically children you are. Honestly the next one's going to be twelve years old." His eyes slid over to Eleven, "oops too late." Eleven's mouth twitched, oh to hell with the timelines.

"Oh well aren't you just the coolest with your scarf and your candies." He spat, throwing his arms in the air which probably wasn't the best move if the looks on everyone's' faces were any indication.

"Yes thank you for noticing, a trait you seemed to have misplaced young man. Tell me, are your parents coming to pick you up soon?" Four teased.

"Oh I'd get that big head of yours out of the clouds before you take a fall, opps," he mimicked "too late I guess. Celery boy is better than you every day." Five grimaced.

"Please don't draw me into this narcissistic competition." But still the bickering continued as their voices grew louder and tempers grew shorter.

"You should've wiped out the Daleks when you had the chance you maniac! You could have avoided the whole damn war!" Nine shouted

"Oh will you be quiet you! What happen? Did the pretty princess over there swallow glass to turn into such a bitter angry man? My clothes are a disguise but yours show how ugly you truly are!" Six retorted.

"Disguise for what? Your dreadful personality? If you weren't so distracted by your clothes you could have saved Peri you half wit numbskull." Ten interrupted.

"Hey now therrrrrre everyone calm down. What are we fighting for? Can't we handle this as Doctors?" Seven countered.

"I do concur, we are the Doctor and we should be acting like it so if everyone would just..." Eight pleaded.

"Shut up Lord Byron, just because you didn't fight in the war doesn't mean I don't blame you for it! We're all responsible!" Nine accused.

"Oi, big ears! X-nay on the War-eh." Eleven hissed.

"Mmmhmm!" Though quiet, the sound of an older man clearing his throat caused all the Doctors to turn and find, well himself. The First, Second and Third Doctors stood there looking none too pleased at their future incarnations. The bickering Doctors had least at the sense to look ashamed.

"Now then, which one of you is the eldest?" The First asked giving his cane a light tap on the ground. The Eleventh Doctor slowly stepped forward and rocked awkwardly on his feet at the aggravated look his younger counterparts gave him. Honestly, they should know that he couldn't help the face.

"Oh for Rassilon's sake look at that, younger than Susan I'd bet. Oh no matter, no matter, will you tell me what in the name of sanity is happening, hmmm?" One demanded causing the other two Doctors to nod.

"Yes please enlighten us since you're clearly the most aged and experienced." Three drawled out sarcastically.

"Hmm, what's a boy got to say that we don't know?" Two huffed. Choosing to ignore thm, Eleven continued.

"We're not quite sure but somehow we all ended up in this time and place. I came across Ten who was-" he paused as if remembering something important. "Hang on, I came here alone but didn't you all come with companions?" He saw the other Doctors' eyes grow bright with understanding.

"Yeah, like I said before, I came with Donna" "and Rose" "Lucie..." "Ace is accompanying me currently" "Peri, wait what do you mean I could have saved P-" "I had Tegan and Turlough" " the savage Leela who-" "Miss Sarah Jane Smith" "What? But where did Jamie and Victoria go?"

One nodded at the string of names he did not know but someday would. "And I came with Steven and Dodo, yes I see your point young man, where did they go?" The Doctors suddenly looked around as if it would cause their companions to reappear. Seven took a few steps back away from the group.

"Yes, well I need to be finding Ace. I brought her here to let loose some old Nitro-9 and Rassilon knows what she'll do without prrroper supervision." He tipped his hat, "I look forward to meeting you all, well not particularly." Four smirked as he also turned and sauntered his own way.

"Yeah, same goes for Leela. I don't want to know what she's getting up to. Probably murder if I were to guess. Don't worry, I'll be sure to enjoy being an adult while it lasts. Goodbye, my dears." Nine huffed and spun on his heels as he stalked away.

"Forgot how unpleasant that one could be, reminds me too much of you all. Now I'm off to find my Rose, I swear if I see any of you again-"

"I should be going too," Five interrupted leaning forward to shake Ten and Eleven's hands. "Don't worry what they say, I'm sure you're all doing a cracking job. Have a lovely rest of your day." Ten smiled and returned the handshake enthusiastically.

"Yeah you see that's what I'm talking about! A true inspiration, now you sir, are the Doctor. My Doctor I guess if I had to pick a favorite." The two men smiled and wandered off together. Slowly the Doctors dispersed in their own directions, probably searching for their companions until only One and Eleven remained. Eleven tried to ignore One's rather penetrating stare and instead nervously tugged at his collar.

"You said you came here alone?" One began.

"For now," Eleven shrugged. "It's too dangerous to travel with humans for a long time. They get worn out and sometimes-sometimes bad things happen. It's better this way so I don't needlessly endanger lives." One pursed his lips before treating Eleven to a small smile and a light shoulder tap.

"Hmm so you are wiser than you look. Ho it's nice to know I look that good when my eyes are as old and troubled as yours are. So humor me old man, did we ever get around to fixing that old Chameleon Circuit?"

In a bar about 12 miles away

"I'm bored when's the Doctor going to get here? He promised us a pleasure planet but all I see around here is dirt." Tegan moaned sitting her head on the bar. Something had obviously gone astray as there were many, many people here looking for the Doctor but describing all sorts of different looking men. 

One savage looking girl even described the first Doctor she had met, the scarf one, almost to a tee. She was busy arguing with a short teenager over explosives and Tegan was sure the place would be blown up in about 5 minutes. It didn't help that this obnoxious red head kept fawning over this Rose girl. Apparently she was important or something. Boy did she ever needed a drink.

A couple others were huddled in groups talking about their Doctors and what they were like but Tegan was just too upset for that kind of thing right now. All she wanted was for that Time Lord who couldn't tell time to get in here so she could give him a swift kick to the behind. She didn't even have Turlough to pass the time with as he was too busy chatting up some of the prettier girls. One girl was so scantily clad even Tegan was embarrassed. Ugh alien or not, he was still a man. She'd have cozied up to the handsome one in the kilt but the way that Victorian lady held onto him said he was off limits.

The sound of the door swinging open caught her attention as an older looking gentleman wandered in and opened his eyes wide in surprise as he saw them all. He muttered something to himself with a wry little smile on his face and took the seat next to her. He smiled sweetly and she realized that he wasn't nearly as old as he looked, just dirty and worn down like he'd been in a war or something. But there was an impish sparkle in her eyes that was terribly familiar... Oh lord it couldn't be.

"Excuse me Tegan," he began in a light voice. "I'm looking for the Doctor." Tegan smirked.

"Well, you've certainly come to the right place."

[fangirlinglikeabus]

i read some non vna dw books a while ago but because i am a Clown i’ve only just finished typing up notes on them...i think my next dw book i’ll make notes as i go rather than just marking the pages and Hoping I Remember. anyway! here’s my thoughts on thirteen doctors 13 stories. i have more opinions on some than others. 

A BIG HAND FOR THE DOCTOR

"...Susan, who was possibly the only person in the universe who could make the Doctor smile at the mere thought of her."

awwwwww

didn't really like this one that much - i wasn't too impressed with eoin colfer's characterisation of the first doctor (esp since pre-ian and barbara i don’t think he’d willingly attempt to stop some villains until susan was in danger)

THE NAMELESS CITY

Polly...once described him as looking like an unmade bed.

lmao

...he didn't know exactly what he was, though when he was growing up, he had heard tales of the legendary fairy creatures of the Unseelie Court who haunted Scotland's deepest valleys. He suspected the Doctor might be one of the dark Sith.

HEAVILY vibe with this concept the world is saved by bagpipes.......peak dw THE SPEAR OF DESTINY

"You know what I love about London?" he said, turning to her briefly. She sighed. "I'm sure I can't guess." "It's the only city in the universe where you can drive around in a car that's seventy years old and get away with it." "Who says you're getting away with it?" Jo muttered. 

nkdfsjksn

"Fire away!"

"Oh, Doctor, please. Not after that business at the museum."

no doctor is immune to the temptation of a good pun. no matter how inappropriate. actually i really like how jo and three are written in this generally. there's so many good scenes. also, when the doctor asks her why she doesn't know anything about the vikings: "Doctor, we did the Romans. Every year." rip jo

From a distance the Doctor watched as a group of about twenty men loaded the TARDIS on to the back of a large low wagon pulled by four sturdy oxen.

jo: the doctor told me about the perception filter on the tardis so it'll be fine! they won't even spot it. literally the next scene, immediately:

She longed to stand and give this old goat a piece of her mind, but she knew she'd most likely fall over if she tried, which wasn't the effect she was after.

aw jo :(

"Do you know they wash once a week?" "Could have fooled me," muttered Jo.

*desperately resists the urge to write down every jo line in this story*

"I have the ship. And I have the spear. What need have I of you any more?"

the master is betrayed. to the surprise of no-one but himself.

The Doctor held her by the shoulders. "My dear girl," he said. "That is very noble of you. You were right. Your aspirations /are/ the very noblest. But you're wrong about something. Nothing is more important than you."

me, sobbing:

ROOTS OF EVIL

realised as i was reading this that i don't own any books featuring leela.....a crime

"Surprise!" the Doctor said. "You know you were complaining that you missed trees?"

this is actually the cutest thing no-one look at me

She could never understand why the Doctor was so careless of danger. It was a good thing he had her to look after him, she thought, as he opened the TARDIS door and they stepped out together into dim, green light and the earthy, warm-compost smell inside the great tree.

phillip reeve gets the four+leela dynamic. like. he Gets it. 

"It will not hurt you," she promised. "It is called a 'scarf'. It is like a cloak, only pointless."

ousdofnsoksfd

"Did it look a bit like a gravel pit? You'd be amazed how many alien worlds look just like gravel pits..."

what is doctor who. without quarry jokes.

"I mean, he's wearing a bow tie!" the Doctor explained patiently. "Ridiculous objects! I wouldn't be seen dead in a bow tie!"

1) says the guy who wears an obnoxiously long scarf everywhere 2) honey, you've got a big storm coming

TIP OF THE TONGUE

there's a scene in this where nyssa and the doctor chill at a diner and they drink chocolate milkshakes together. this is all i care about.

Good Lord, was that celery he was wearing on his lapel?

Yeah We Know

"Are you British?" Nettie said, as if this was the most surprising part of the whole thing.

i mean, fair

He paused. "I don't suppose either of you would be interested in travelling?"

the fifth doctor: hey one of my friends died recently and i abandoned the other one but i really miss having a large crew so i was wondering if you two literal children would like to risk your life travelling with me :)

SOMETHING BORROWED

you'd think given this one is from peri's pov she'd be slightly more central to the plot. ah well.

"That's two storeys up!" I exclaimed. "And I'm in heels." "Well then, you should have worn more sensible shoes, shouldn't you?"

maybe she lives in hope that she won't have to do any running/scale buildings every time she steps out of the tardis. i get that. 

"Well, you are the expert when it comes to gaudy," I said, giving a meaningful look to his red-and-yellow plaid coat and green tie.

every six story is legally obligated to drag his coat

The Doctor shook the man's hand vigorously. "Yes, yes. A little different round the edges since our last meeting on Kiri 4, but all the charm and intellect are still here."

i love this bastard.......

"Love? That contrived, chemically driven state of idiocy?"

mood

A clatter of metal was the sole warning I had before a hole in the ceiling suddenly opened, and the Doctor came tumbling down to the floor, landing in an ungraceful heap of rainbow plaid. Nonetheless, he rose to his feet with all the dignity of an Olympic gymnast who'd just landed a perfect somersault.

not to sound like a broken record but i would Die for this idiot

withholding myself from using more quotes to illustrate my unbridled love for the sixth doctor whom..........

"You might regret not helping me with this one day," she  [the Rani] called over to us. "Your next regeneration may be sooner than you think."

Huh. I Wonder What That's Referring To

RIPPLE EFFECT

From the look on his face, Ace reckoned that a visit to the Time Lords was something similar to her having to visit the dentist back on Earth.

i mean to be fair.....the time lords are a whole lot worse although in this case the doctor's reasons for not wanting to visit are: (i) they're 'old, boring and judgemental' (ii) they have stupid clothes and a stupid non-intervention policy (iii) they treat him 'like a naughty schoolboy' (can't have that in front of your companion!)

i apparently didn't have many comments to make on this one. um...it was good. i liked the idea of an alternate universe with nice daleks. MOVING ON

SPORE

"They're all dead....everyone's dead, flesh turned to liquid. It moves...There are things! Moving things! They're alive..." Major Platt looked up at the Doctor. "The caller became incoherent after that and disconnected shortly after." The Doctor drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the top of the aluminium folding-table between them. "Hmm...That really doesn't sound very good."

YEAH YA THINK?

"I was at the opera," the Doctor explained, "when my phone went off."

this is his excuse for That outfit. really just copying everything from grace here huh

THE BEAST OF BABYLON

She also didn't yet know that he wasn't a man at all.

yeah cos he's non-binary duh

"So now we're landing on Earth," he shouted, "two thousand years before the birth of Christ..." "Who?" "He was a bit like Sherlock Holmes. Knew the answers to everything. Very good at solving mysteries. Some humans use him to measure time."

obsessed with the implications of this dialogue...

THE MYSTERY OF THE HAUNTED COTTAGE

absolutely love the concept of this one...a world created from martha's memories of reading a famous five expy as a child

"What?" Martha said defensively, keeping her voice down. "That's how he was described in the books. Don't blame me. This was 1951. Everything back then was blinkered, sexist, and ever-so-slightly racist. It was a backward time." "Ah, yes," said the Doctor, "because 2007 has none of those things."

vibe with this convo

"Am I lonely?" Martha asked. "You're a particle of dust," the Doctor said. "Of course you're not lonely." "I sound lonely." "Well you're not; you're having a great time."

this conversation where the doctor tells martha to imagine herself as a particle of dust has exactly the same kind of energy as discussions you have at 3am at a sleepover

NOTHING O'CLOCK

Amy looked irritated. She wasn't irritated, but she liked to give him the impression she was, just to show him who was boss.

yeah...

ok the villains in this one are actually really fucked up like. it's been a While since i read it now because i procrastinated on making these notes but they were Good creepy. thank you mr gaiman. 

LIGHTS OUT

now THIS is one where the pov heavily contributes to the story...

He turns to look at me with piercing, hollow-set grey eyes, then furrows his impressive silvery brows. "I'm buying a coffee," he says. "For a girl."

so THAT'S why twelve took so long to find coffee for clara......he wasn't buying it on earth. good vibes

TIME LAPSE

i absolutely LOVE the concept for this one, which is that the year 2004 completely disappears from records

A typed envelope reading The Doctor, The TARDIS, Ex-Gallifrey followed by a long string of numbers, letters, and things that probably were letters but looked like they came from about eight different languages.

obsessed with the fact that (i) you can apparently send letters to the tardis, like it has an actual address (mel throwing a message in a bottle into space doesn't seem so unreasonable now huh...) (ii) part of this address is 'ex-gallifrey'

this dude gets rejected. and is so badly embarrassed that he erases 2004 from existence. i promise i'm not making this up.

[killcapitalizm]

the louvre (no tw); peter parker

request; can you do an imagine where reader has a crush on peter even though he and michelle were dating in high school (which makes the reader distance themselves from the group) and after they graduate, peter finds them and says that he and michelle didn’t work out? then the reader finds out it was because he liked the reader the whole time. sorry if this is confusing and super long!!

word count; 2,981

warnings; angst, this wasnt edited

a/n; SSCREAMS IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ugh im disappointed in myself.. theres gonna be more parts to this im currently writing the next one dw. listened to the louvre by lorde while writing this. love u

tags; @kaliforniacoastalteens

Your name: submit What is this?

You had supposedly gotten over Peter a few months ago, when you'd accepted the fact that he and MJ– or rather, Michelle, you remembered, she's Michelle to me now, isn't she– were dating and you'd finally ceased intentional contact with him after painfully long weeks of being too busy, too sick, too tired, too hurt; and you have yet to admit that last one. With Peter's absence of course came Michelle's, they were a couple and therefore somewhat of a packaged deal. That was no surprise to you, when you regretfully unwound yourself from Peter you had known that you'd lose Michelle, too. What you hadn't expected was the sudden absence of Ned– someone who you had grown quite close to. Even Liz was separated from you, so subtly you nearly hadn't noticed she was gone. In the first few seconds of hurt and loneliness and confusion, you were awfully lost. But then you considered: you met Ned and Liz through Peter and indeed they were closer to him than you'd ever be, ever been. And so you start from scratch.

You tried your absolute best to make some friends in each of your classes. You swallowed that familiar feeling of fear-filled blankness and managed to talk to one person in each of your classes. They all had their own pre-established friend groups that you knew you wouldn't be able to be a part of, but you gratefully settled for acquaintances that would give you a partner in class and someone to ask for notes when you were out for a day or two. You lived without a friend for the last four months of your senior year, right up to graduation where you saw Peter and Michelle kiss under the shade of a city tree in front of the school and then you caught Ned's eye later and his mirrored yours, but softer. Never before had you weeped over being unable to text a friend about how entirely shitty you felt because your mother was angry again and, more importantly, you missed them, but in that summer you stained your pillow at midnight as your back and legs and chest ached as if they were holding your bruising sorrows. Your parents weren't home that night when you were crying, crying for hours into the early, early morning. You cried until you had no more tears to cry, and you simply wailed to yourself, exhausted an drowsy but unable to sleep because you felt too terrible to be able to rest. Those kinds of nights don't happen often but you hate that they happen at all.

On your first day of your new job at a popular bookstore, you were glad it was chilly so that your red eyes and nose and cheeks were excusable. You brought eye drops and hoped the red would drain from your face before anybody noticed that it wasn't the cold causing it and you told yourself that if it did fade then you wouldn't have that night for another two months, and when you walked in you saw no one you knew until you turned your head and saw Ned, you saw Ned in the soft yellow light of the morning and you nearly cried because you saw him like that many times before, with Peter at sleepovers when you'd wake up early and again with Peter again when you'd walk to school with them. He saw you and smiled at you, and didn't look away in that don't-talk-to-me way but instead he glanced down at the empty area next to him behind the register then back up at you. You were terrified in that anxious, empty way but you yearned for a familiar friendship, so you walked over to him and spoke too much right away.

"I've missed you." You didn't sound polite or happy and that's what made it sincere.

"Oh, thank god," Ned says. "I thought it was one-sided."

"Is it?" You ask still, but you're smiling brightly for the first time since you cleared your phone contacts.

Ned snorts. "I would assume you'd infer from what I said that it's not, but whatever. I've missed you, too."

It was in that moment that Ned forgave you; in the same moment he realized there was anything to forgive you for. While Peter had dejectedly told him you were probably avoiding him because of something he did (Ned knew it was because he was together with MJ), he had still missed you without an answer, missed you in the same way you'd miss a friend the night after a sleepover, when you turn in your bed in heavy solitude and whisper to the wall that they hadn't slept next to, because if you'd look to the space where their mumbles had been then you wouldn't sleep all night. Your absence had him turn over to the wrong wall, and that hurt him.

You remember the time Ned had accidentally tripped you in gym class back in your junior year and you saw him nearly cry, then you spoke again. "I'm sorry." For what, Y/N? You try again, "I'm sorry for leaving you and not talking to you. That you had to miss me. I missed you a lot. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," says Ned, "I forgive you." He forgave you twice, because he hadn't realized how satisfyingly pleasant it feels when someone doesn't have to apologize but they do with their heart.

"Thank you," you say, because he welcomed you after you had cut him off for so long and he shouldn't have smiled so dearly at you, and you're grateful.

Ned helps you with your new job that day, then that week, and into the next week. You add his number back onto your phone and write it down in your journal that you've stopped writing in ever since Peter told you with so much joy and love that he was dating Michelle. You try not to think of them, just of how much you missed him and her each as their own. If you think of them, then that night you'd weep and weep until you felt so pained and sick that you shook, curling up and holding yourself as you hoped you'd fall asleep. You don't tell Ned about those nights and you don't ask about them, you don't ask about Peter at all but you know he's talking about him when he says "my friend," or more often, "a buddy of mine."

But Ned is smart, and he knows you had liked Peter back then and because you never ask about his friend (he knows that you know who he's talking about), he knows you like him now. He also knows that Peter and MJ broke up, he knows why and how and when and where and the boy was a boy of the Earth, he is rooted to the ground and because of that he knows it's not his place to tell you all of that. Ever-growing with the kindest smile, he knows that Peter needs to tell you himself if you're to ever know. And he wants you to know, so he decides that five weeks of talking daily with you, after reattaching yourself to him and him to you, that he'd start to reconnect you and Peter. He starts off conveniently.

"Look, dude, just get it over with and you'll feel better… What? Peter, no, you need a job, you're eighteen now–" Ned spots you walk in early one Thursday morning and talks just loud enough into his phone so that you could hear him say Peter. Surely enough, you duck your head as if you hadn't been listening. His name out of Ned's mouth, so bright like you remembered it, twists your heart. "Hey, man, I gotta go and you do too. You got this, I know you do. See ya'."

You stop beside Ned as he hangs up and tucks his phone into his back pocket. As always, you greet him with the biggest smile you can manage. These days, it's been some of your brightest, full ear-to-ear grins, but today you barely show your teeth. He notices and for a second he rethinks his plan, but you still love Peter and he knows he loves you too so he keeps going. "What was that all about?" You instantly regret that, but it flew out of your mouth before you could think of another conversation starter.

"Peter, actually," he does his best to sound gentle, but you inhale sharply at his name anyway. "He's going for a job interview later today and he's panicking again. As always. But I know he'll do just fine."

You were silent for a second too long, quickly spitting out something when you realized it. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, he was always like that… panicky. 'N stuff. Before things. He always did good and… yeah." You straighten your back and shift your weight from leg to leg, a poor attempt at looking casual that really just made you look just as nervous as you felt. You were looking down at Ned's shirt with a pleading gaze that he surely saw, begging him silently to just leave it be, to change topics, to not say his name again. He saw all of that, but he knew he had to.

He looked sympathetically at you as he spoke again, "Speaking of him, I think we should all meet up sometime or whatever. It's been a really long time since we hung out." He sounded like he was hurt, feeling awful for putting this on you but knowing it'll end up better in the end if you're willing to work with him.

You, on the other hand, sounded genuinely wounded. "Y-Yeah." You nearly wheezed. Unconsciously, your hand rested on your hip, angled so that your palm was more on the back of your hip. Ever since you could remember, emotional stress would center at your back and slowly start to crawl down your limbs. Always starting in your lower back, it ached with whatever you felt, then burned its way up, making the spot between your shoulders sore, then shooting down to your legs. If Ned insisted on talking about this for very long, you'd have to bring a stool to the register with you today. "I mean, I don't really think… he'd want to see me. After what I did."

"Actually, he really misses you." Gosh, he was trying so hard to be soft, but it felt like he was smothering you with a pillow. While he wasn't lying, he hadn't actually told Peter he's been hanging out with you. "He'd love to meet up sometime– I'll ask him later today. You can set the date."

"He…" misses me? you finish in your head. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, blood rushing up your neck and kicking your brain, then rushing back down before starting again. You were growing a bit of a headache, maybe from staying up late last night but maybe the aches were skipping your limbs today and getting right to your head, towards the back where it wouldn't let you lay down on your back later. "Uh… Yeah. Y-Yeah, I'll– I… Sure. Sometime."

Ned watched your discomfort with a wince that went unnoticed. He reminded himself it would get worse before it got better. "Anyway, we should start preparing. We open in an hour," he said, trying to edge you away from the topic, although it was too late to stop the images and memories of Peter from firmly planting themselves in your head. You nodded once, slightly, then again with more motion. That day, you made sure to never be seen without a water bottle so that you had an excuse when someone asked you why you were going to the bathroom so much. You'd go when your started thinking too much, to the point that it interfered with your ability to shelve books and even think to yourself a single, coherent thought. You'd excuse yourself, rush in, and find yourself gasping for air that you hadn't realized you lost.

You went home that day feeling more alone than not, despite the sudden vague reconnection with Peter. But you shouldn't be surprised, the thought of the boy has been a presence of loneliness for a while now. When you think of him, it's as if you're thinking yourself into a void, where you detach from the Earth, as if you exist in your body but your body does not exist in the world and it simply moves around in it. Sometimes you suspect that because you feel something so drastic and real that Peter wasn't the only cause of it, but it did you better to not think too deeply so that you don't return to work the next day with red eyes and darkish bags that hung underneath them. You went home that day and asked Ned to call you, because you hid your tears from him and knew that if he were with you in any way that you would be able to keep your promise of two months of freedom. When Ned was gone, you moved to the TV to distract you. Then you pulled out your phone and decided to read something, then opened up your laptop to watch a YouTube video, and after a minute you retrieved a book to read and a comic to look at– you were doing everything and nothing at once but what you weren't doing was sobbing and that was, in the end, what you wanted. You trembled a bit when you settled in bed that night, your body detached from the Earth for a while when you panicked in your (too) many thoughts of Peter and other things, although you don't remember what those other things are because its easier to just say one thing, despite him being the hardest thing to say at all. You had to stumble out of bed and lay on the ground– on your side because the very back of your head still hurt– look at things in your room one at a time, then listen to things outside one at a time, tell yourself what apricots and your favorite tea taste like before you could finally feel the carpet beneath you again. Your head spun with busyness and contradictions as you got back in bed, but you slept right away and that was all left to touch in the morning.

And Ned was true to his word; when he had to hang up to catch a bus, he made sure to text Peter when he got a seat. It took him ten tries, but he decided to bluntly tell Peter that he's been talking to you, and then gently ease into his proposal of hanging out again. Then, because he stayed with Peter in those months you were gone, he felt it was right to hook another text onto that one: he knew you felt something for him, and he told Peter that he didn't knew exactly what you were feeling (and that you probably didn't either) but that it was something reminiscent of strong love, broken love, fear, and a lot of missing him. You had looked bewildered at the mention of Peter, and he told him that, too. Told him that he should try with you. Told him that you needed him to try with you, or, at the very least, you needed him (not him, but him there, you needed his nearness, the familiarity Ned had fulfilled had to be filled by more than just him). And Peter answered with time, so he went back to the usual, being the Earth boy he always was, sleeping close to the ground on the first floor of a cheap apartment that looked magical later that week when he taped up all of his posters and switched out the bright, fluorescent white lights for the yellowed lights he always preferred because they look more like sunlight.

So Peter, in his dress shirt and nice pants and new shoes, sitting with his back straight against the wall near the entrance of his apartment, still sweating from the conversation that had happened hours earlier, closed his eyes and remembered you in the moonlight like you had remembered him and Ned in the sunlight, he remembered those many late night conversations he had with you in which he was filled to the brim with nothing but nerves and stress and anxiety, he remembered how you'd remind him all night and day and week that he was important and needed and okay and here, on this planet, in this town, living and breathing and growing and that he's not as small as he felt nor as big as he fears. He remembered how you'd call him sunshine, sunshine and he told Ned that he needs you because he wants to hear that again. A sky boy he was– he was constricted and bound by his own breathing so he threw off his clothes, pulled on his suit of red and blue, and sprinted across the roof of a long, tall building so he could jump off and then web himself to the next building. He toppled over and rolled along the hard surface of what was probably some apartment complex, he stared up at the last sky blues for the day and panted. His throat burned with his wheezes, but soon he smelled the city and smiled, deep in his mind he was sure that you'd call him sunshine, sunshine again soon. He slept long after you and Ned had fallen to slumber, after flying around buildings and waving at an infant and helping an older couple catch their bus.

[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!"