#second question is does yaz know

[fxlling13]

Amethyst Haze

Dh!Master x fem!reader

Wc:5.8k

Warnings:rude aunty, awkward family moments, bullying behaviour. Alcohol

Synopsis: the master pays you a surprise visit multiple times <3

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

"How about a planet entirely made out of amethyst?" Cocky as ever, The Doctor looked at you and Yaz

excitedly. “I say entirely. Obviously there’s some brick, and stone, and cement. So it’s more seventy-perfect amethyst. But you get the picture.” She carried on, correcting herself slightly. It did sound interesting though, and you guys hadn’t tried a new planet in a while. The girl beside you grinned, folding her arms comfortably. 

"Sounds great!" Yaz beamed, glancing at you as you nod in agreement.

"I’ll love it. Purple is my favourite colour." The others looked at you in shock. Surely it was obvious, you had dyed your hair a deep plum colour recently.

"Is it? I wonder if that’s why, oh well. ready?" The doc spoke, pulling down on the lever beside her. Neither of you questioned her half finished statement.

———

As predicted, the planet was extremely beautiful. With soaring towers made from the pretty gem and buildings just the same. Roads of purple brick lined the streets, and even the royal guards donned that colour uniform. How did you know that? Well, apparently, your group were trespassing on an important festivity of the people. They had you locked up the second you were spotted. You hadn’t even been there an hour, only just getting into the city centre. Two guardsmen grabbed you, harshly taking you into the capitol building and down several floors. All three of you were thrown into an absolutely freezing cell, and told you’d be let out once the celebration was over. Once down there, it came as a shock to find you were not the only ones caught out of place. Furthermore, The Doctor looked baffled to find The Master pacing up and down. Now, you and Yaz were watching the timelords arguing. The blonde just couldn't believe that he was there in peace.

"I swear. I have no ill-intent." He sighed, throwing his head back against the wall. The master was across the room from you, leaving a hearty gap. As The Doctor was thinking of a good interrogation strategy, you made eye contact, and you smiled at him genuinely. To your surprise, he returned it. In your many encounters with the renegade timelord, you had honestly never been scared of him. Usually, he just made you laugh, somehow keeping you out of harms way.

"So, if you're not here to steal?" The doctor started, determined to get the truth out.

"Nope." He responded boredly.

"Raise an army?"

"No."

"Take over the Palace?"

"No."

"Kill the royal family?"

"No, Doctor!"

"Then why are you here?"

"To buy a present!" Eyes wide, you all stared at The Master completely shocked. That was unexpected. Smiling to yourself, you pat the empty space next to you. Yaz looked at you in question, but you just shrugged. 

"I dont think he's going to kill us. Relax." As you finished talking, The Master hummed and sat beside you. Opposite, The Doctor was watching him like a hawk. Exchanging a look of amusement, yaz sighed before joining her girlfriend. 

"You're buying someone a gift?" The blonde asked, unconvinced.

"Yep." He nod casually, eyes scanning the area as if searching for something. Your teeth were beginning to chatter quietly.

"Why here? There's whole planet's dedicated to shopping centres and gift giving." Rolling his eyes, The Master just stared at The Doctor blankly. As if her question was dumb.

"Well, the person I'm buying for really likes a certain colour that’s readily available here on Purpuartica." Sweet, he was clearly very considerate. Maybe he kept that part of him to himself. 

"You mean yourself?" Yaz's comment made everyone laugh. Even the man next to you scoffed lightly.

"No. Though I admit, she does have taste." He thought aloud, nodding in approval to no one in particular. As per usually, he was wearing his long tweed, purple coat. With the same colour waistcoat and shirt. More importantly, you noticed.

"Oh, a she?" You teased, hugging your knees tightly. It was getting exceptionally cold in there. Looking at you, he chuckled and gave a short shrug.

"Yes, why?" Grinning, you shivered lightly, trying to block out your environment.

"No reason." The Doctor watched you talking, realisation slowly dawning on her. He was so calm, so collected. Letting herself smile, she folded her arms. Clearly, she wasn’t feeling the cold like you and Yaz were.

"Didn’t take you to settle for anything less than yourself?" Turning to her, The Master sighed bitterly. He should have known she'd figure it out, but there was no need for the insinuated insult.

"She isn’t less than me, and you know that." He shot back, brows raised.

"I know, but think of the age gap!" She mocked his former self, making him roll his eyes. Giving the couple a pointed look, she deflated slightly. Looking out the tiny window, The Doctor frowned as a gust of wind blew in. The walls around the cell frosted over dramatically, and your arms tugged your knees closer to your chest. Giving the air a sonic, The Doctor let out a perturbed noise. 

"This isn't good. I hadn't planned to stay this long. It's only going to get colder." Next to her, yaz shook in her spot, cheeks deepening in colour. Instantly, the doc pulled her coat off and wrapped it around her, fastening it up. Yaz moved closer and allowed her girlfriend to hold her close. You watched them sadly, you had never felt more single. 

"Are they always this sickly?" The Master asked, shuffling towards you. Looking up at him, you nod.

"Yep. I deserve a medal for biggest third wheel." He laughed, resting his head back against the icy wall. Seeing as the doc and yaz were distracted with each other, you decided it wouldn't hurt; making conversation with The Master.

"You know, you reminded me I need to go gift shopping too." You told him, starting to shiver more violently. He looked you over, brows creasing. 

"You do?"

"Well it's nearly Christmas back on earth. Need to finish off my Christmas shopping." It was hard to speak, your lips were going numb. Subtly, The Master inched closer and began to unbutton his jacket.

"You like Christmas?" He asked curiously, getting the last button open. 

"I love it. Though, its pretty lonely." 

"Small family?" You shook your head, fingers loosing all feeling. Even when you rubbed your hands together, it was useless. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist. You were pulled down into The Masters chest and he wrapped his jacket around your form. Instantly, you were greeted with warmth and sank into his hold. Honestly, you didn't care if The Doctor or yaz could see. If she could be warm, you could be as well. 

"No. Just, every year, they continue to ask me why I'm single. Where's my boyfriend. It’s draining and very lonely." You explained, relaxing as the cold thawed out of your veins. Humming, The Master made sure his jacket reached around you properly. 

"Sounds it, love." Blushing, you chose to ignore the pet name. Your eyes grew heavy, the cold taking the energy away from you. The Master saw this, bringing his hand up to run through your hair softly. 

"Sleep. We'll be here a while longer."

———

"Well then. Why her?" The Doctor asked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up. Shrugging, The Master continued to thread his fingers through your hair.

"I dont know. Why her?" He shot back, motioning to yaz. Grinning, the blonde let out a laugh. Seems they were stuck in the same situation.

"So, what are you going to do?" She was curious, eyeing your sleeping figure. All he did was tug you in more, sighing to himself.

"Well, I have this plan." 

———

Laughter woke you and Yaz a few hours later, your eyes opened slowly. You found The Doctor and The Master cackling not so quietly. Yaz looked at you confused, sitting up.

“Woah, are you two actually getting on?” She asked, cracking her neck slightly.

“Don’t sound too surprised. We grew up together.” Shrugging, The Doctor rubbed her back affectionately.

“That’s really sweet.” You mumbled, staying against The Masters chest. He made no effort to move either of you. It warmed you, more than physically. It felt natural, it felt safe.

“If I’m right, which I usually am, we should be let out soon. Get you both home.” The Doctor told you both as Yazmine handed her coat back. You gazed up at The Master, curious.

“What about you?”

“Well. I have to get this gift.” He smiled down at you, rubbing your side. Noticing your uneasy look, he chuckled and tapped your nose affectionately. “Don’t you worry about me, love.”

———⭐️

About a week later, you were yet again in trouble. You were running like your life depended on it. Because it did. Somehow, The Doctor had landed in a cyberwar space station. Not that you knew exactly who they were fighting, but they were definitely organic, like yourselves. There was a moment in which you’d been spotted, fight or flight kicking in. Now you had been split up and you had been running for what felt like hours. Hearing stomping, you turned your head only to crash into something.

“Woah there.” Relief flooded your veins as you looked up to see The Master. He held your arms and, subsequently, you up. “What are you doing here?” He was baffled to see you, eyes roaming your figure for injuries and such.

“Doctor.” That was all that needed to be said. He sighed, quickly pulling you along the corridor. It seemed he knew the place well, you tilted your head, holding onto his hand easily. “Is this your doing?” You teased, earning a grin from the man.

“It might be.” He started, making you scoff. “But it really was an accident.” The Master took you into what seemed to be a control room, letting you go and messing around with a keypad. A metal door shut behind, a loud click to signal it was locked. Perhaps you should have felt worried, that you were alone with The Master. The man who tried to become The Doctor. The Man that created the “CyberMasters”. Also the same man that kept you out of harms way, who listened to you. No, you felt perfectly content in this situation. You sat yourself on a leather chair that was situated by one of the control panels. “So, the Doctor appears to be stuck two levels from us. And four levels from her blessed Tardis.” He informed you, causing you to sigh in annoyance. That really didn’t surprise you. “Don’t you worry dear. I’ll get her to us, then I’ll get you all away from here.” The Master chuckled, closing his eyes momentarily to ‘contact’ The Doctor. Once he’d done that, he strolled over to you. “So, finished your Christmas shopping?” His casual question caught you off guard, but it was nice to see he remembered.

“Nearly. Just one person left to buy for.” You huffed, thinking about your family back on earth. Noticing your tone, The Master nonchalantly moved you, slipping onto the chair. You found yourself almost in the man’s lap, little space left between you. Instead of complaining, you accepted your fate and leant against him.

“And who is that, you don’t sound particularly happy about it?” He inquired.

“It’s my aunty. We don’t always get on.” You said, wondering if he’d want to know of all your family drama.

“Oh? Why’s that?” It seemed he did. You pursed your lips, not knowing where to begin. There was a lot she had done. Then again, The Master may have just perceived you as dramatic. “That bad?” He commented, seeing as you hadn’t spoken for a moment.

“Yeah, it can be. She’s just really opinionated, and doesn’t like how I dress. Or my job. Or my hair. Or my personality.”

“I don’t think I like your aunt.” He cut in, a small laugh passing your lips. “Have you considered gifting her nothing? It seems that’s exactly what she deserves.”

“I fear that would make Christmas very awkward.” He tut at your response, taking you in fully. Twirling a piece of your hair around his fingers, he spoke again. “I happen to think your hair is very nice.”

“That’s only because it’s purple.” You laughed, not minding the closeness at all. The Master smirked, nodding his head in approval.

“Well of course.” Just then, there was loud banging on the steal door, making you jolt away from the man. Reluctantly, he got up with a grumble, opening the door with the press of a button. “Took you long enough.” He sounded annoyed, though you felt as though it was more about being interrupted. The Doctor came in a hurry with Yaz right behind her. Out of breath, the brunette shook her head.

“She couldn’t follow your instructions. Kept trying to find shortcuts.” Yaz baited her girlfriend out, earning a playful shove.

“Well it felt like he was giving us a longer route!” The Doctor exasperated, arms in the air.

“Why would he do that? To hurt (y/n)?” Yaz worried.

“No!” All three of you said in response to the girls question. She looked around surprised. The Master grunted under his breath, busying himself with finding a way up to the tardis. Smiling, you stood up and looked over his shoulder, watching what he was doing. In the background, you could faintly hear the women still discussing.

“But after everything he’s done?”

“Trust me Yaz, he will not harm her.”

“But how do you-“

“I just know.” You didn’t look back, not minding their conversation at all.

“When is Christmas Day, for you?” The Master, also ignoring the girls, asked you lowly. You thought for a second.

“Just a few days. The Doctor is going to drop me off after we get out of here. Then I’ll have the entire week with my family.” You said with a less than enthusiastic timbre, making the man chortle. It really wasn’t what you were looking forward to, except for seeing your parents of course.

“Would it help if I came alone, I know I could easily fix your problem.” It was a false threat, you knew that. You felt yourself smiling at his suggestion, shaking your head.

“As nice as your company would be, I don’t think hurting my aunt would fix things.” He looked at you, taking in everything you said with a short head bob. “Well then, maybe I’ll just pop in to say hi.” He grinned before turning round. “Right everyone, follow me!” The woman jumped, scurrying to follow you both down a ladder and to the Tardis. The Master helped you down from the ladder, holding your waist and bringing you back to the ground. There was a small blush on your cheeks, unable to meet the man’s eyes. His hand slipped into yours, as he walked along the metallic corridor.

“My tardis!” The Doctor cheered, running to the blue box in a flurry. The Master rolled his eyes, noting that Yaz had gone inside without a second thought. Gazing down at you, he let go of your hand grudgingly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have a good Christmas. Trust me.” He winked, stirring both confusion and bashfulness inside of you. Giving him a smile, you waved and stepped into The Tardis.

———

The past three days had been tough, to say the least. The first day had been okay. You went to the markets with your parents, getting hot chocolates and wandering the stalls. The second day, the rest of your family arrived, which included your aunt.

“Oh god, what have you done?” Was the very first thing she had said upon seeing you, clearly meaning your hair. Thankfully your mother was there to distract her, but every chance she got, your aunt would make comments. Then, the third day, Christmas Eve, it had been even worse. Your aunt had gotten very drunk at the meal your father had planned. The whole restaurant could hear her yapping on. It was loud and obnoxious spiel, about the worst topics imaginable. Now it was Christmas morning, you were sat in your childhood bedroom, applying your make-up. Part of you felt insecure, even if you originally liked your outfit. An off the shoulder black top, paired with a short, mauve miniskirt and black boots. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed before finishing off with lip stick. In your youth, you’d traditionally open gifts first thing. However your aunt had decided it now had to be done after dinner, for some stupid reason. Either way, you picked up the last of your gifts for the family and brought them downstairs.

“Merry Christmas!” Your mother chimed upon seeing you, handing your uncle a plate of hot food. You smiled, greeting her too. After laying the gifts by the tree, you took a seat on the free arm chair and looked around. Your dad was chatting away with his brother, both eating a hearty fry up. Your mother still in the kitchen, grandparents all sitting at the coffee table.

“Will there be anybody joining you this year, (y/n)?” Your aunt questioned. She had already asked about your relationship status the first day you saw her.

“No.” You gave a short answer.

“Why am I not surprised.” She tut. “Maybe if you weren’t so difficult, then you’d find a suitable husband.” She lectured you, as your mother came in and handed you some breakfast.

“Yeah, I know.”

———

A few hours went by, dinner was still not ready yet and you were already growing tired. You weren’t sure how long you’d last under that woman’s gaze. Her eyes were like fire, burning you with their criticism. She had been ranting about the problems in society for a solid thirty minutes, and you were getting a headache.

“Take (y/n) for example.” She said suddenly, gaining your attention again. “The hair, the clothes and the tattoos, not to mention the jewellery. Her generation has no sense of class. None.” Your aunt peached, but no one really said anything. “Rude too. You never see any of them do anything for us!” A loud knock interrupted her, thankfully. You shot up, reassuring people that you’d see who it was. Even when you entered the hallway, you could hear her gibberish, though it was fading slightly. You really wanted to bang your head against the wall, but the knocking persisted. Pulling open the door, your eyes went wide at what you saw. Stood there, at your door, on Christmas Day, was The Master. His hair was curly, wearing a black shirt, covered by a maroon knitted vest, with a gift bag in hand. Before he could even say a word, you threw your arms around his neck, startling the timelord. He chuckled, bringing you in closer.

“What are you doing here? How did you even find my house?” You asked, pulling back from him with a smile. The Master looked down at you smugly.

“I told you that I’d pop by and say hi, I thought you’d appreciate it.” He really came, you thought as your eyes shone with gratitude. Giggling, you jumped up hugging him once again.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” You mumbled against his shoulder, relaxing when his arms encased you.

“Well, I could sense that you were distressed.” His hand ran along your back bringing you instant comfort. “How is everything going?”

“I don’t know how much more I can take.” You admitted to him, face pressed to his shoulder. The Master tightened his hold on you, letting out a short sigh.

“I’m here now, okay?” He reassured, clearly not liking how down you sounded. For a moment, you could forget about the mess of your extended family. Forget that right behind you, your aunt was probably still waffling on.

“(Y/n)? Who’s this?” Your mother’s voice suddenly brought you back to reality. Reluctantly, you pulled away from The Master and turned to face her. Ever confident, the male gave her a witty smile.

“Ah, I apologise. I’m (y/n)s work colleague, O. I thought I’d just drop off her gift whilst I was around.” He lied smoothly, impressing you. Your mother walked towards you both, smiling warmly at him.

“No problem at all, why don’t you stay for dinner? If you don’t have any other plans of course.” She was quick to ask, mostly for your sake it seemed. Even your mum knew how difficult her sister-in-law was.

“If it’s no trouble?” The Master was a very good actor, feigning his politeness. Shaking her head, your mother responded,

“None at all, come on in. It’s freezing out there.” Ushering him in, you closed the door behind and locked it. The Master looked at you simpering, allowing you to guide him into the living area. Everyone looked up, hearing people re-enter.

“Everyone, this is (y/n)’s work friend, he’s going to be joining us today.” Your mother spoke happily, most of your family nodding along with the news pleasantly. “Dinner will be ready soon, someone get O a drink.” She finished off before disappearing into the kitchen. You looked up at The Master expectantly.

“Oh, what are you drinking?” He questioned, understanding your look.

“Just lemonade, I don’t drink.” You let him know, a little bashful.

“She’s an odd one, isn’t she?” Confused, The Master spun around to find a short, older woman looking up at him. “Everyone needs a tipple at Christmas, don’t you agree?” Your aunt held up her sherry glass as if to prove her point. It didn’t take a genius to realise who the woman was, and The Master gave a chivalrous reaction.

“Oh I’m not a big fan of drinking, bad for the liver you know.” He eyed her, muttering under his breath “and the teeth.” You pressed your lips together having heard him. The Master peered at you, lips twitching slightly. “Just water will be fine, love.” Trying to ignore your slight blush, you got him a glass of cold water and took it into the dining room. Your mother was just finishing setting up cutlery.

“I’ve sat you and your colleague here if that’s alright?” She showed you the two seats, allowing you to put the drink in the right place.

“That’s great, would you like me to get everyone?”

“If you could dear.” Her eyes crinkled at you with appreciation, as she busied herself with putting everyone’s plates down. You returned to the living room, finding your secret alien ‘colleague’ wrapped in conversation with your father. It was a funny sight to see, but somehow, The Master didn’t looked too annoyed. Gathering everyone’s attention, you announced that dinner was ready and everyone soon filed into the dining room. When you went back, you found your mother had spread the food down the centre of the table. In the middle of it all, was the roasted turkey, accompanied by everything you could ever want. Bowls of stuffing and steaming veggies, large jugs of gravy, a tray of pigs in blankets and roast potato’s and carrots. There was also an array of sauces and condiments. You took The Master down the opposite end of the room to where your assigned seats were. He pulled out your chair, helping you sit before sitting himself. Whilst everyone was getting settled, you took the opportunity to talk to him.

“So, anything to say so far?”

“Your house is decorated quite nicely, I must admit.” The Master said, picking up his glass.

“I saw you talking to my dad?” You asked, curious as to what they could have been speaking about.

“Oh I overheard him talking to that man,” he nodded in a certain direction.

“My uncle?”

“Yes him, about the Bermuda Triangle. I had to join the conversation, it’s fascinating to hear what humans think goes on there.” He told you, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“Hm, he is a bit of a conspiracy theorist.” Hearing this seemed to intrigue the man beside you. Finally, your mother took her seat on the other side of you, giving the signal that people could start to plate up their dinner. Your father got to work carving the turkey, serving your grandparents first. You reached over, using the tongs to give yourself a few bits.

“What are those?” Confused, The Master pointed.

“They’re called pigs in blankets. It’s a mini sausage wrapped in streaky bacon. Do you want some?” He bobbed his head in confirmation, watching as you put some on his plate, along with a variety of vegetables too.

“Such a fascinating name.” The master mumbled. Your father had finished his but, placing the carving tools down for someone else to use. To your surprise, The Master was quick to pick them up, carving off some meat and putting it on your plate before his own. Noticing the gravy was in the jugs, you looked around for a moment before excusing yourself. You grabbed a small dip bowl from the kitchen before coming back and putting it to the side of your plate. Seeing how big the jugs were, you frowned a little, carefully pulling one closer to you.

“Do you want me to help?” The Master asked with a grin.

“Please?” You looked at him sheepishly. He immediately did just that, pouring some of the gravy into your little bowl.

“She’s an odd one isn’t she?” Your aunt cackled across the table, causing you both to look at her. Placing the jug down, The Master cocked his head a little.

“Why is that?”

“Well using a bowl like a child, just pour it all over like the rest of us.” She shook her head. The Master spied her plate, seeing it piled high and looking like brown sludge with all the gravy on there.

“I just wanted to dip my food instead.” You tried to explain, but it didn’t matter.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, (y/n). And she doesn’t have to do exactly what you do, either.” The Master said sternly, not looking back at the woman opposite him again. He glanced at you warmly, putting a hand on your knee. He could probably feel how cold you were to the touch. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, starting to eat your dinner.

“How is everything, O?” Your mother looked over hopefully. The Master offered her a kind look.

“Wonderful, thank you mrs (y/l/n).”

———

Dinner soon finished up, and you helped your mother and nan to clean up. They did shop you off after a few moments however, to which you went back to the living room.

“Ready for gifts?” Your uncle leered, getting all the presents ready.

“I just need to go get one last thing.” You realised, rushing back up to your room, grabbing a bag then heading back down.

“So, O is it?” You heard your aunt speak, stopping just outside the door.

“Yes?” The Master was sat on an arm chair off to the side, right by the fire too.

“You work with (y/n)?” She enquired as your mother was brining in the last of her surprises.

“I do, yes.” He lied, curious as to where this was going.

“Is she as incompetent in work as she is here?” Your aunt looked at him pointedly. It baffled him how she said that with no second thoughts.

“Actually I happen to think she’s exceptionally smart.” The master spoke casually, noticing the look of shock on the older lady’s face. You smiled to yourself outside the door, ready to walk back in.

“So, what are you, her boyfriend?” It seemed that question made everyone grow silent, waiting for his response. Your heart was in your stomach.

“And if I was?” He shot back, clearly unfazed. “I’d be lucky to have a girlfriend like her.” You swallowed hard, cheeks suddenly feeling very warm. The rest of your family began talking again, getting on with whatever it was they were doing. Taking a deep breath, you walked back into the living room trying to seem like you totally hadn’t been listening in. Then you noticed, no seats left. So, you went to sit on the floor by The Masters chair. You really didn’t mind much, plus you’d be warm by the crackling fire. A hand landed on your waist as you went to sit, making you look to your side. The Master guided you onto the chair with him, your legs falling over his lap. No one paid any notice, presents getting passed around the room in a flurry.

“And this one is for you, (y/n)” your father grinned handing you a wrapped box. Taking it, you quickly pulled off the colourful paper, happy to find something you’d been asking for the majority of the year. It was related to a band you enjoyed. Begrudgingly, your aunt thrust a gift into your arms. You forced a smile, opening up the tacky bag and peeking inside.

“Oh wow..” inside, was selection of make up. All different shades of bright eye shadows and lip colours. Ones you wouldn’t dare go anywhere near.

“I thought it could help to make you more appealing.” Your aunt said confidently, whereas you were at a loss for words. The Master tut, taking it off you and putting the bag to the side.

“By making her look like a clown?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Her style suits her perfectly. It’s just not your style.” He continued, shooting daggers at the woman. She huffed in annoyance but chose not to say another word. Your heart warmed at his protectiveness, making you quickly reach down and pick up a small bag.

“For you.” You said, his eyes glazing with bewilderment. The Master took the gift, opening it up carefully. From the bag, he pulled out a snow globe, taking it in for a moment. You really weren’t sure how he’d take the present, perhaps he’d think it was stupid. “I made it myself.” You clarified, trying not to show your anxiety. “I went to this pottery night last week, and I made your tardis in the middle see?” He looked at you with an indescribable look. “It’s where we first met, plus the shack is really cosy. And I made the exterior purple just for you.” Now you were just rambling, filling in the void of silence. The Masters eyes raked over you, considering your form with a tactical eye. Deflating, you looked down at your lap. “You hate it.”

“I love it.” The Master suddenly clarified, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. His lips curled into a genuine smile, thumb rolling over your cheek soothingly. Leaning in, he left a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t remember the last time someone got me a gift, let alone made me something that held actual meaning.” Relaxing, you beamed up at him, happy that you could in fact, get a positive reaction from him. “Thank you, love.” Again, you blushed, following his movements as he picked up the gift bag he had brought with him. Once he’d pulled out a neatly wrapped gift, he extended the bag to your mother who was stood nearby.

“Oh this is very kind.” She exclaimed, taking out a very extravagant bottle of champagne. Both of your parents were very happy with the gift, all your family ogling the expensive drink.

“This is for you.” The Master said, giving you the wrapped gift. It was only a small box, but intriguing nonetheless. Tearing away the black paper, you found a maroon, velvet box, with a bronze clasp. Slowly, you opened the box and gasped at the sight. Inside, there was a ring, the band made from white gold and lined with tiny purple gems. In the middle, there was an oval amethyst, held in a crescent moon shaped piece of gold. The Master took the ring in one hand, gently holding your hand with the other. He slid the ring onto your index finger, your eyes widening as it automatically adjusted to your size. “Very pretty.” He muttered, making you nod.

“It is.” You agreed, admiring the ring. The Master chuckled, not letting go of your hand.

“I wasn’t referring to the ring, dear.” Your eyes met, a small smirk on his lips. “Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing, I love it. Thank you.” Trying to ignore his casual flirting, your attention fell back to the ring. He chuckled, tugging you closer to his side.

“I told you all I was on that planet for good reasons.” Suddenly remembering that day, your head shot up in a second.

“Me? You were buying the gift for me?”

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you love?” You nod at his question dumbly.

“But why?” You asked perplexed, trying not to get your hopes up too much. The Master hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“Why do you think?” He simply said, not really giving an answer. “I meant what I said, I’d be lucky to have someone like you.” His touches were purposeful. “But I could never-“

“Why not?” You cut him off with a frown. He let out a breath.

“You know who I am, what I’ve done. I’m not worthy of someone like you.” The Master spoke sorrowfully, playing with the ring on your finger. Shaking your head, you replied quickly.

“That isn’t for you to decide.” He raised his brows.

“You treat me so well. You’re protective and dedicated, you found my house and came knowing I needed you.” Taking in your words, The Master shrugged slightly.

“But-“

“But nothing.” You said matter of factly. There was no way he would be winning that argument. “What if I want to be yours?” You mumbled incredulously, casting your eyes down to your lap. Feeling a hand on my cheek, The Master tilted my head back up to meet his gaze. He was smiling.

“You already have me, doll. I thought you knew that?” He grinned, my eyes lighting up in a second. “And if your family want here. I’d prove that to you.” The Master spoke in a hushed voice, your cheeks shining colour instantly. He chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer.

“If you two are done flirting, there’s more gifts to be shared over here!” Your uncle interrupted, making everyone in the room laugh. Even though you were blushing, you rolled your eyes and began paying attention to your surroundings. Everyone was in a joyous mood, even your aunt. Perhaps it was the sherry, but either way you were grateful. Leaning back into The Masters chest, you sighed contently as his arms wrapped around your waist. Surely, it would be a slight shock to The Doctor, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. His lips pressed to your head tenderly.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[thetorturedlovergirl]

Was listening to How Did It End? by taylor and couldn’t stop thinking about Thasmin while listening to it.

It’s heartbreaking. It’s a failed relationship, where the echoes of the unanswered desperate question of “How did it end?” resonate after it didn’t work out. The reflexion you do about a whole relationship that was dreamed to last but didn’t. One where everyone is hungry to know what is happening.

It remindes me of Thasmin but especially Yaz, a Yaz after POTD (it also could be a Yaz after the timeless child but it doesn’t resonates much with me tbh). A heartbroken Yaz from a relationship that she knows the other person wanted but couldn't work out due to life circumstances (dancing around each other, little communication, problems, time, regeneration) (“Our maladies were such we could not cure them // and so a touch that was my birthright became foreign” )

13 knew their time would end someday, but she still fell in love. Their love didn’t encounter the future, their love didn’t encounter an end.

I know Yaz is an incredibly strong woman, but I don't think she can handle that ending so easily. It wouldn't be as difficult as it was after TTC (where she didn’t know if The Doctor was going to come back or if she was alive) because they said goodbye, they had an end to their relationship (even if it was an end that was not wanted by both parties in the relationship), but it would still be difficult, Because a love as strong as that they had does not last so short nor is it overcome so quickly. I think she would be lost and try to stay strong, but she would fail. People notice, people talk, people watch. The first few weeks she is not well and they know it, but she is stubborn about staying strong (while still getting help from her friends).

And this one I don’t have much to say bc I feel it says a lot for itself. (The deflation of our dreaming // leaving me barefoot and reeling is KILLING me making me cry sm oh my)

And also, I know this song is about how people gossip and follow other people's lives with too much interest (interest they shouldn't have). I can't think of any character who would do this, because that's not who they are. Yes, they talk, but not with evil intentions. They speak worried. I would say that the second pic I posted could be a companion meeting where they are talking about this situation, or the part where it says “the emphatic hunger descends” could be from the point of view of a bitter Yaz. But no, no one would take advantage of this situation for their benefit.

(Also Taylor’s soft voice it’s like the intrusive thoughts you have when thinking about someone. That voice that quietly tells u what you don’t want to hear or think, but still do).

[dearinglovebot]

Not really a question just wanted to say love your blog a whole lot!!

This may be a weird semi question but is it weird that I find the raptor/handler lady as great mutism/selective mutism/ disabled rep? Like to me what makes her fascinating is how she does not say a word and feels closer to her animals cause for me I feel more close to my animals then anyone else and shut down and go mute sometimes. Like the is cool as a villain because we can’t really read her. I know in general disabled folks are put as the villains but to me she’s not really a villain? Like I’d find her offensive if we didint see more of HER as the show goes on, I see her as like an anti hero, hero of her own story. Idk maybe I’m yapping about nothing but she’s been my fav human Jurassic villain and also a cool representation and it makes her more badass

aweee thank you ❤️❤️

this got long I’m sorry. TLDR; it’s never weird to find characters relatable. it’s beautiful. the handler is my girlfriend who I love dearly but, for me, she’s not someone I consider mutism *representation* quite yet. open to having s2 rock my world with her tragic backstory though

honestly, there’s layers to it in my eyes. it’s like: are flamboyant villains used to mock queerness? yeah. will I still say they served amongst my fellow gays? yes. do I think they’re good representation to the wider public? absolutely not.

i don’t think it’s weird at all to love her and feel kinship in her. i like what we’ve seen of her so far. she’s fascinating in how little we know about her or her motivations. I hope she continues to girlboss her way across the world and strike fear into the hearts of many. and i think a lot of us do tend to closely bond with our animals because they don’t put unrealistic expectations on us. that’s a very realistic aspect of her. my cat is my hashtag best friend 4 life. but I do also think there’s a difference between good representation and interesting characters that we like.

personally, I think the handler is a relatively unoffensive portrayal, but I wouldn’t consider her representation for mutism. for one, I genuinely haven’t heard any talk of them consulting any nonverbal people to respectfully portray her like they did with brooklyn’s limb difference. for two, does she accurately show the experience of mutism? her backstory is going to play into this, but in her current state, I’m meh. most people already assume I’m plotting their downfall because im a non-expressive (autistic) and silent bipoc but she genuinely is trying to kill people so (tbf i wish i could hunt people for sport too sometimes so maybe not THAT inaccurate). I think the strongest thing she has going for her representation wise is that she used body language to comfort the raptors instead of words. that ability to silently communicate with her pack felt real.

how they handle her in s2 might change my opinion, but rn I don’t see her as rep in the same way that, say, yasammy represents me as a lesbian or kenji represents me as a member of a diaspora. love that freaky woman but when I explain what it’s like to be me, I wouldn’t use her as an example is my basic thought process. I’ll never knock other nonverbal people’s thoughts cause we aren’t a monolith but *i* see representation as something made for us. yaz and sammy were handled so lovingly and thoughtfully and THATS what i want representation to mean (<- guy who can’t go 2 seconds without praising yasammy)

I would also like to lightly push back on the idea that verbal shutdowns are the same as mutism, though. being mute means that you speak rarely, if ever, on a constant basis. they’re distinct experiences, though some people (like me lol) will have both! the way I’d describe it is kind of like: verbal shutdowns are temporary breakdowns caused by high emotional stress. but being nonverbal is daily life. it might be physical, mental, or both but it’s not really something that changes without purposeful interventions. the experiences are relatable to each other, but they have their nuances

I DIGRESS! at the end of the day, there’s no authority on representation thought because that defeats the purpose of us all being unique people with our own opinions. if a character makes you feel seen, then that’s beautiful. keep loving them. don’t let anyone tell you it’s weird. our experiences shape how we relate to characters. the good, the bad, and the ugly. hell, you’re talking to the person who soapboxes about autistic claire everyday because I think she acts like one of us. she’s relatable to my experience so I’m gonna claim her all I want every day of the week. that’s the beauty of fiction

I hope this didn’t come off as shaming or superior in any way. I tried to emphasize personal opinion where I could but again I’m autistic. makes me sound more confrontational than intended online. I genuinely do not think it’s weird in any way. I mainly just hope s2 gives the nuance I’m looking for in her portrayal

[thereweresunflowers]

🌿 rosemary and time 🕰️

thasmin - 2,345 words - rating: G - beach scene and boundaries - read on ao3!

What you said, Doctor, about living in the present while we still have it,” Yaz starts. “Last time we were on a beach. Well—we’re time travellers, everything is the present to us."

The TARDIS brings Yaz and the Doctor to ye olde seaside Scarborough Fair, and Yaz takes another chance on a beach to tell the Doctor just how much she means to her.

written for the @thasminsecretsanta run by the ever brilliant lina, as a gift for @thirteensfavoritetoy! thank you for such a thoughtful prompt, i had wonderful fun with it. have the happiest of holidays and merry christmas!!

read the whole fic below the cut!

“Scarborough fair!” the Doctor announces, whirling her way across the control room. It’s just her and Yaz in the TARDIS, Dan having popped home for a sleep in his own bed, and Yaz is glad the Doctor has taken this as a chance for the two of them to adventure together. They could’ve gone straight to the next morning and picked Dan right back up again, but he shut the doors behind him and the Doctor turned to her and asked, “fancy a trip just us?”

And how can Yaz ever resist a question like that? How can anyone?

So, Scarborough fair. “But not like the Simon and Garfunkel song, though that is very good. No, I’m talking about the actual fair itself that the song was based on—held in Scarborough every August and September from 1253 until over a century later. Merchants, entertainment, good food, good people.” The Doctor glances up from where she’s fiddling busily with the controls. For a second, there’s the slightest hint of bashfulness in her as she looks up through her eyelashes. “That sound alright?”

Yaz beams, the Doctor leaving her a little helpless as she always does. “Sounds perfect.”

The Doctor looks at Yaz and Yaz looks at the Doctor and even as the TARDIS engine thrums into life and jolts them across space and time, the connection between them remains unbroken.

**

“I don’t think it’s August,” Yaz says, blisteringly cold wind whipping about her face as she stands a few tender steps outside of the TARDIS. “And I can’t see a fair.”

The Doctor pouts as she rambles to a stop beside her, hands on her hips in dismay. “Well, at least it’s still Scarborough,” she salvages.

“How can you tell?”

“Slight tinge of rosemary and thyme alongside the sea salt in the air.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Am not! Seems we’re just a few months out of where we wanted to be. It’s 1303 like I’d hoped, fiftieth anniversary of the fair. It’s just we’re a few months late.” The Doctor squints, taking in the view around them which is lit with dazzling winter sun. 

The sky is a crystal blue, pure and clear, boundlessly spanning the horizons and unbroken by clouds. They’ve arrived midway up a sloping cliff, the land around them climbing upwards and lush with coastal bracken. On one side, the hill rises to meet a large stone wall, behind which must stand a busting castle judging by the great tower above them and the chatter being carried down to them on the sea breeze. On the other, the grass drops and rolls down to a large sandy beach. Waves beat frostily upon the shore. Huddled behind the sandbanks, the town of Scarborough stands, all twisty streets and wood framed houses latched up to beat the winter cold.

“You know, I don’t think the TARDIS ever lands exactly where you tell it to,” Yaz laughs, pulling her jacket closer around her.

“Ah, more fun that way,” the Doctor grins. She pats the weathered side of the blue box with a fond hand. “She takes us where we need to go. Maybe Scarborough only needs us in December.”

The TARDIS gave us a beach, Yaz thinks. Maybe she knows. Maybe she’s telling us to try again. 

She nods, tries to let her next words sound nonchalant.“Or maybe we need Scarborough.”

Nonchalance is hard with the Doctor, though. Truthfully, Yaz has never cared so much before, about anything. Anyone. But if her earnestness slips through, the Doctor doesn’t show that she notices it. 

“You look a bit chilly, d’ya want my coat?” the Doctor blathers, “if I’d have known it was gonna be so cold I would’ve brought me scarf out, found you a hat or something.”

Yaz goes to protest but the Doctor is already shrugging her coat off, bundling the soft fabric into Yaz’s hands with a certain determination. The cloth is warm with the Doctor’s body heat, the material made all the more welcome against Yaz’s cold palms. 

“But you’ll get cold,” Yaz attempts.

“Well you’re cold already, and I’m an alien, I’m built weird. Temperature works differently for me.”

Yaz isn’t sure about the accuracy of that statement, but she can tell by the insistence in the Doctor’s voice that she isn’t about to take no for an answer. 

“Alright, alright,” she says, giving in. She slips her arms through the slightly-too-big coat, laughing as the hood falls over her head in the movements of putting it on. 

A gentle hand pulls the hood back from Yaz’s eyes and the world blossoms back into colour. “There you are,” the Doctor chuckles. She looks Yaz up and down, just once, an approving smile growing on her face. “Nice,” she murmurs. For the slightest second, Yaz catches that hint of bashfulness again. Can’t quite work out if her newfound warmth is coming from the coat or the way the Doctor is looking at her. But then the Doctor is back to her usual brashness and is taking her hand and tugging her along the cliff. 

**

They could’ve gone up to Scarborough Castle, seen it brimming with Plantagenet life in the festive season. They could’ve headed for the town, found a pub or some grub and walked among the common folk living their wonderfully ordinary lives. That’s Yaz’s favourite part of visiting the past—seeing the everyday. The Doctor can get them in anywhere, they can always meet a monarch or find the seedling moments of a legacy. But stumbling across someone incredible who will undoubtedly, eventually, be forgotten, that is special. 21st century Yaz can remember 14th century friends and travel to the year 3000, and her memories coming with her too means there is a little piece of the 14th century common folk out among the future stars. 

But today they do neither of those things, although Yaz can tell the Doctor desperately wants to. The Doctor asked Yaz where she wanted to go and with all the history between them, with the TARDIS bringing them here, Yaz had to say the beach. Yaz thinks the Doctor knew all this and let her choose anyway, and adores her even more for it. 

They’re walking the length of the shore. This beach isn’t shingle like last time but sand, vast expanses of it washed glassy with water and worn smooth with the winter wind. There are, as there always have been and will be on beaches, some wild youngins dashing about in the shallows, shrieking as the white horses break on them with freezing fervour. Apart from that, the beach is quiet. The Doctor is quiet too.

Yaz looks over to her, seeing the soft curves of the Doctor’s shoulder blades usually hidden by her coat. Her collar bone pokes out of her t-shirt, her hair flapping idly by it in the wind, starting to go wavy in the salt air. Yaz can do best friends. She’s almost perfected it. The air between them is clear and they both know where they stand, bouncing out to sea with the stone the Doctor wished on and sent skimming. Always waiting for the final splash. And still, and still, Yaz is left remembering the words the Doctor said all those years ago: like hope, love abides.

“What you said, Doctor, about living in the present while we still have it,” Yaz starts. “Last time we were on a beach.”

The Doctor stiffens almost imperceptibly; if it were anyone else Yaz could’ve put it down to a gust of wind or the growing chill. But this is the Doctor, Yaz’s one constant in all of time and space, and she’s learned by now how to translate the single alien language the TARDIS can’t. The Doctor’s smallest movements have a tendency to betray her. 

Yaz braves on. “Well—we’re time travellers, everything is the present to us.”

The Doctor looks at her. “You think?”

“Why not?”

“I’ve just never thought of it like that before,” the Doctor says, slowly, like Yaz’s words are still seeping into her brain and she needs the time to make sense of them.

“How do you see it, then?”

The Doctor looks at Yaz as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Like everything is ending all of the time.”

Yaz’s breath leaves her. All the adventure, all the discovery, every sunrise they’ve watched together, and the Doctor sees every moment like it’s their last. No wonder she thinks their time together is always running out. No wonder she wished this could go on forever.

Yaz fixes a smile back on her face. Over the years, she’s found the Doctor is a lot more receptive to advice when it’s given with an innocent grin. She’s not sure why that is, if the Doctor doesn’t realise it’s advice if she gives it that way, or even if Yaz’s smiles make the Doctor feel as helpless as the Doctor’s smiles make Yaz. But it works. “Maybe that’s why the TARDIS always takes you somewhere unexpected. She’s trying to tell you you’re wrong. Every time you step out of those blue doors, something new begins.”

“Yasmin Khan, the great philosopher,” the Doctor grins. “You’re wise beyond your years, you are.”

“That’s why we get on, we meet in the middle,” Yaz chuckles.

“Are you calling me immature?”

“No, I’m fondly teasing you about your childlike wonder at the world.”

The Doctor narrows her eyes pointedly at Yaz, the smile dancing on her lips the giveaway to her faux suspicion. “I’ll let you get away with that,” she says eventually, earning a laugh.

They’ve made it all the way down to the sea now. It’s a good job Yaz wore her Docs, as every few waves a gust brings the water right in over their feet. The Doctor’s coat flaps unfamiliarly around Yaz’s calves and she wraps it around herself a little tighter. Its scent brings her as much comfort as her childhood bedroom. 

Beside her, the Doctor seems unbothered by the cold. Maybe she wasn’t lying when she said temperature works differently for her. The wind is running breezy fingers through her wavy hair; through the strands, the Doctor catches Yaz staring and Yaz glances back down to the sand. When the Doctor shifts her feet, sea water pools in the prints her boots leaves behind, just briefly, before the sand shifts in the current’s flow and it’s like she was never stood there. 

“I waited for you,” Yaz says, staring at the ephemeral shifting of the tide. “For three years.”

The Doctor clears her throat a little awkwardly. “You never gave up hope?”

“Course I did. Three years is a long time, especially without you,” Yaz states bluntly. It’s not a confession, it’s a fact. “I missed you.” 

“I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, she’s going about it wrong. “I’m not saying it to make you feel guilty, I’m just saying. I lived in the present then, having lost you, and being with you again… Maybe some things are worth it. Stars, maybe some things aren’t worth it and we should do them anyway,” she tries, slightly breathlessly.

The Doctor does what she does best and looks out to sea, the unfathomable emotions of an immortal alien locked behind her brow. Her body language, Yaz has learned to translate, but her thoughts she never can quite get a grip on. 

Even when it’s quiet between them, it’s rarely silent. The rhythms of the wave on the shore, the humming of the TARDIS engines, the triple beating of their hearts. The three years that Yaz spent without the Doctor, those were silent. But they were full of longing.

“Even when the hope was gone, I never stopped loving you,” she says, and that is a confession. Or the closest thing you can get to one when the woman you’re confessing to already knows it all. But she’s not asking for anything, just saying it because it needs to be said.

“Yaz…” The Doctor turns to her and looks back away, swallows, words still in her throat. “I never was any good at saying the important things. Just know—” the Doctor finally turns to face her properly, their bodies parallel to the shore. She’s found a smile, the kind which Yaz can hear deep in her voice and sounds like contentment. “Being with you makes me love being me. I’ve been so many people, but I’m the luckiest of all of them. I’m so glad it was me who met you.”

Yaz feels her cheeks dimple. “Me too. I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Even if—”

“Even if.” Yaz finishes it for her. “I’ll take what you can give me. And maybe steal a little more,” she says with a smile. She presses a kiss, soft and chaste, to the Doctor’s warm cheek; feels the downy hairs of her skin and the wrinkles of her crow’s feet against her lips. It’s a quick and flighty thing, an innocent toe over the line the Doctor drew in the sand on that beach in 1807.

“Thieves take,” the Doctor murmurs. “That felt more like a gift.”

“A present,” Yaz says. Then, a little more shyly, “I’m giving you my present.”

The Doctor’s eyes are wide and brown and almost doubting as she stares at Yaz.

Trust in me, Yaz wants to say, but can’t quite get the words out. 

In the end, it seems she doesn’t need to. The doubt in the Doctor’s eyes thaws, resolving itself into something sweeter, more steadfast. Her hand finds Yaz’s under the too-long sleeves of her own coat. The Time Lord’s skin is warm and soft as her fingers slip between Yaz’s own, the double heat of their palms glowing amid the cold of the beach the TARDIS brought them to. Scarborough Fair and 1303 can wait; they’re time travellers. The Doctor smiles at Yaz, and Yaz smiles at the Doctor, and even as the waves of the beach break frostily on, the connection between them is remade anew.

[veraynes-blog]

Fave Shows tag game

Rules: List 5 favourite shows (in no particular order) and answer questions accordingly.

Doctor Who

Good Omens

Life on Mars

Blackpool

The Thick of It

@johnsimms thank you for tagging me, this one was super fun to think about!

(Nobody look at me about the fact there are maybe 3 individual actors stretched across those 5 shows, I am. Aware. 😶)

~

1. Who is your favourite character in 2?

I feel slightly like I’ll get lynched for picking a favourite, but - Crowley. Hands down. Not just for the DT factor, although I’m sure it contributes. I just really love everything about how his character is presented in the TV show, from all his performative showing off to the very obvious insecurities and nerves he’s trying to cover up at any given moment, I think he’s lovely. I want to wrap him in a blanket and give him tea. Which is very Aziraphale-coded of me.

2. Who is your least favourite character in 1?

Uhh… that’s a vast sea of characters you’re asking me to pick from. I can’t pick villains, cuz let’s face it my very favourite is the most villain. If I restrict myself to main companions, I guess… Yaz? I know that will be an unpopular opinion, I just don’t think she was super compelling as a character, and her relationship with the Doctor felt very anticlimactic to me, so as a companion she just fell flat for me.

3. What’s your favourite episode of 4?

I’m trying to pick… Either episode 2, because of the scene where Carlisle and Natalie go on the date in the drag club (because, unironically, I remember getting actual butterflies at how romantic I thought it was), or the final episode 6,  watching Carlisle throw caution to the wind and fully come into his own as utter manipulative bastard to get what he wants. Actually, yeah, that one.

4. What is your favourite season of 5?

Because I tend to watch them all in one big chunk, I’m struggling to remember what even happens in separate seasons. I really liked Hugh in it, so either Season 1 or 2.

5. What’s your favourite relationship in 3?

Sam and Gene. Easy one! 😄 I don’t even care if it’s platonic or romantic, I think they had amazing chemistry that clashed against each other constantly and made it so compelling to watch. I love that they very genuinely irritate the life out of each other and just as reluctantly like each other.

6. Who is your anti relationship in 2?

Think I’m going to have to steal an answer here, but Newt and Anathema because I also don’t like the ‘prophesy said so I guess’ foundation of it. It didn’t bother me massively as a pairing, I just wasn’t very interested in it.

7. How long have you watched 1?

Casually since I was 15 and it started coming out again in 2005. I’ve watched every new series with my mum, but only joined the fandom (got obsessive) around 2019.

8. How did you become interested in 3?

John Simm. That’s the whole answer. My joining the Doctor Who fandom led to TenSimm shipping, and from there stalking the filmography of both David Tennant and John Simm as truly excellent actors. I watched a lot of shows I’d missed out on previously from them both during the downtime of the pandemic, Life on Mars was an enduring favourite.

9. Who is your favourite actor in 4?

I mean… does it even need stating since DT is a lead in 3 of my 5 picks? Definitely David Tennant (although Blackpool sold me on David Morrissey as a great actor as well, he’d be a close second).

10. Which show do you prefer 1, 2 or 5?

Difficult. In terms of raw numbers, I’ve rewatched TTOI more than any of them, I used to play the four seasons on literal repeat for days. Good Omens makes me giddier than anything I’ve ever watched. But in terms of longevity of interest, I’d have to say DW.

11. Which show have you seen more episodes of 1 or 3?

That feels a very unfair comparison given Doctor Who is as long-running as it is, but yeah easily Doctor Who. 😅

12. If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

I guess Natalie?? Swept off her feet by a dreamy looking guy absolutely set on breaking law and morals to be with her? Yeah I’d be okay with that. 👀

13. How would you kill off your favourite character in 5?

Well, that’s Malcolm, so I guess shady political assassination? Something that generates conspiracy theories and memoirs and newspaper thinkpieces for years afterwards. It’s what he would have wanted. ✌️😔

14. Would a 3/4 crossover work?

Yes. Oh my god yes. 😶 Can you imagine?? People start breaking into song and Sam is convinced he’s off his coma meds again. Carlisle fully willing to out-shade Gene. The clash of Manchester and Scottish slang. DT and John Simm working together again, the chemistry.

Quick, somebody please slap together a fanvid or a fanfic or a headcanon or something, I am possessed by this idea. 🤯

15. Pair two characters in 1 that would make an unlikely, but strangely okay couple.

I’m gonna be basic and still think about the Doctor/Master pairing, but if we’re talking unusual iterations of it… Spymaster and Ten just absolutely outdoing each other in the needy olympics would be fascinating. Thirteen and Missy is a close second. Missy would so appreciate Thirteen’s barely-contained feral vibes. She’d wanna keep her on a leash, it’d be great.

16. Overall, which show has the better cast, 3 or 5?

Ooooh that’s so difficult. I love TTOI for the insane improv skills of Capaldi and the rest of the cast, but in terms of raw chemistry it’s gotta be LoM.

Tagging @linz33y @countessrivers @imdoingawesome @roxannepolice @tardis-ghost-blog @ten-nan-th-doctor @mothmanyeetus @best-enemies @bluebird-appreciator and really anyone else who wants to have a go! A lot of the questions are super fun to answer 😊

[billpottsismygf]

The Church on Ruby Road (spoilers)

Oh my god! I absolutely loved that! Ncuti Gatwa is phenomenal. He's got so much presence right from the start, and there were some lovely little Doctor-ish quirks that he got across very nicely. I particularly liked his disdain for the Goblins' supposed time travel, him loving the name Lulubelle and the way he rattled off his police interview answers (though the bit about the proposal was perhaps a little too Sherlock). On a sadder note, his 'maybe I'm the bad luck' line was also delivered really well.

Ruby Sunday is pretty cool too, though I'm not quite as sold on her yet. Millie Gibson's performance felt just a trifle stilted to me, but I hope that goes away as she relaxes into the role. I loved her family, especially her gran. It's so nice to have a wider companion family like this again. We got it a bit with Yaz (and sort of Ryan and Graham), but I hope we get to see a bit more of this lot!

I wasn't sure what I was going to think of the Goblins, but I really like the alternative physics time travel thing they have going on with the language of luck. The Doctor's line about learning the vocabulary of rope was great; some real 'resonating concrete' vibes. But yes, the Goblins were fun and interesting. I don't know if they'll become anything particularly iconic, but not every villain needs to be.

The musical number was enormous fun. Obviously the first part was released ahead of time, but the Doctor and Ruby launching into a second part was unexpected and fantastic. Ncuti has a damn good voice. There have been questions about whether a musical episode of the show could work before, and I'm definitely here for it if there's ever a plan to give us more than just one song! Ruby's own ability to sing (improvisationally!) was also quite nicely set up with her being in a band.

Perhaps the best part of the episode was when Ruby was taken out of time. Her mum being a far more jaded and unhappy person, with even the lighting getting dimmer, was incredibly effective. Her declaring she was happy alone with tears in her eyes, the Doctor also crying, really got me. Ncuti's performance throughout that as well gave me a lot of faith in what's to come (not that I needed any, given what I've seen of him in Sex Education). (That 'then why are you crying' also had more than a hint of Amy crying for Rory.)

I have to mention the timeless child stuff. As with what he did with the flux in Wild Blue Yonder, I'm over the moon that RTD is taking things from the last era and actually doing stuff with it. I know there will be people angry about it because they expected him to retcon the whole thing, but I far prefer this approach. Granted, I never minded the timeless child stuff that much (unlike the flux), but it was really effective having the Doctor actually bring up the fact that he doesn't know where he's from. I wonder if RTD is planning to do anything more with it, or if it will just be used as character and relationship building material.

Smaller stuff:

We got another mavity mention, so is this just here to stay or is it part of a longer arc?

The way the gloves work didn't make sense to me. The way the Doctor explained them was as if the weight just shifted to the glove (which makes sense for making balancing and gripping easier), but if that's the case where does the extra weight come from when pulling the rope down? Oh well, I'll just imagine they're magic weight deletion/creation devices and move on with my life.

That spike through the Goblin King at the end was brutal! I'm surprised they were allowed to show it. No blood or anything, I suppose, but still!

Ruby's mother (we presume) was somehow still walking away after the Doctor's whole escapade with the Goblins. Bad directing (I might have bought it if she were much further away on a long road) or an indication of more at play? Either way, presumably this isn't the last of that plot thread!

What the hell is going on with Mrs Flood? When she was watching the Doctor towards the end, I thought it was pretty strange, and then in the mid-credits sequence I started to wonder if she was something more than she seemed. Then came the look to camera and her line about TARDISes… Technically, this could be a weird little moment a la Feast of Steven, but it seems more likely something else is at play. The Toymaker could bend the rules of reality, so perhaps she could be part of the legions he mentioned, able to break the fourth wall at will. We shall see, I suppose!

[chickensarentcheap]

A sneak peek out of something I'm writing in the midst of massive depression

@munstysmind @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit and anyone else reading/supporting

It's really messy. but oh well. Hasn't been edited obviously.

WARNING: profanity

***

“And then their conversation in the kitchen.”  (carries a squirming,  fussy Millie out of the room, Yaz following dutifully behind).  “I heard every fucking word.   I know what his voice sounded like. When he was talking to her.   And she was such a fucking bitch about it all;  not wanting to hear an apology one minute but then demanding an explanation the next.  I heard everything that was said.   And it was obvious that the only outsider in the situation was ME.  The only one not welcome in my own goddamn house.”

(tends to filling the kettle and plugging it in, leaning against the countertop with his arms crossed over his chest; watching as she settles herself at the kitchen table, noticing the way her hands trembling as she unbuttons her blouse and puts Millie to the breast.   

“And to think, ten minutes before she had the fucking nerve to get all friendly with me.  Talk about how beautiful Millie is and ask all kinds of questions about her. Like my child is any of her goddamn business. I should have just told her to go fuck herself.”

“She was probably just being nice. I mean, Millie IS beautiful.”

“Yeah,  she wanted to butter me up before tearing my entire life apart. Typical home wrecker. You know, I didn’t even want ANY of you there.  I didn’t want that brought to my doorstep.  I should have just told him. When he called from Vienna to say he was bringing everyone there. I should have said no.   To just stay away. To not bring the trouble home. Instead, what does he do? What do I LET him do? I let him bring it right under my roof.  And where did it get me, Yaz? Where did it lead to? Being homeless, technically.  And now I’ve got an entirely different life ahead of me. As a single mom.”

“But it doesn’t have to be that way.  It doesn’t have to be just you and Millie. It…”

“I’m not being ANYONE’S  second choice.”

“You’re the ONLY choice, though.  There was never a second.  And even if there had have been, he would have picked you.  No questions asked. He wouldn’t even have hesitated.”

[worshipme]

“yeah but i don’t think it’d fit you. his stuff is like… grunge, alternative type of fashion. you know… edgy kids. that kind of stuff.” of course, tyler wouldn’t ever be one to gatekeep anything from yaz. whatever she wanted to know and get into, he’d help her. this was just his own personal take. the style just didn’t seem to fit yaz.

when she settles right above his lap, tyler’s grabs her waist. he kisses her gently, humming in content against her lips. it makes his heart sing knowing that she really does mean it when she says she’d just be as needy as he was when it came to physical touch. when she pulls away to ask her follow up questions, tyler simply pulls her down completely into his lap. “just need you. i really like it when you wear my stuff.” he whispers. he brings a hand up and places it firmly against the back of her head. he pulls her in for another kiss. tyler only pulls away when the need for air becomes apparent, and even then he only gives himself a few seconds before he’s trailing kisses down the side of her neck.

“so sailor moon and doritos?” he whispers against her neck, his hand dropping back down as he wraps his arms around her waist again. “maybe cuddles too? are those up in the air?”

who: tyler && yaz ! [ @itsyazmin ]

where: nyc

there were times when tyler’s felt like the entire world was against him and today certainly felt like one of those days. he had woken up later than he normally would on a sunday because he had trouble sleeping the night before. that caused him to miss out on breakfast just so that he could make it to mass on time (there was nothing he hated more than arriving late to mass and having everyone take a peek at who had entered in late because the door was squeaky and loud). but the most terrifying fact of all: he was going to tell yaz today.

he stands in front of his mirror and adjusts the sleeves of his button-up before smoothing the fabric out. he knows the odds weren’t looking good for him. she was going on casual dates with others and had even called their friendship cordial. whatever he was going to say today would ruin that, but he’d rather see his feelings through than letting them fade into oblivion with the ‘what if’ lurking in the air. tyler runs his hands through his hair before going between taking his glasses off, putting them back on, taking them off again… before he finally settles on keeping them on. there wasn’t time for him to fuss about getting his contacts in, and frankly, he thinks the glasses are the selling point of his “sunday’s best” fit.

“okay socksock, remember what i said for later today.” he tells his cat who has been sitting at his feet patiently. “best behavior… i really like this girl. i don’t wanna ruin it if god blesses me today and answers my prayer.” he fixes his collar one last time, pats down the pockets of his slacks to make sure he’s got everything else he needs, and then lets out a sigh. tyler crouches down and scratches right under socksock’s chin. “wish me luck.” he whispers to her, leaving her with a peck on top of her head before he’s standing back up straight. tyler heads for the front door and makes sure to grab his leather jacket hanging up on the coat rack.. in case yaz gets cold.

then, tyler’s standing outside of yaz’s door and feels a chill even though he’s currently wearing the jacket. what if today was the last time they’d hang out like this because his feelings would ruin it? he gulps. but what if today was the start of something new? that thought is enough for him to ring the doorbell and wait patiently for her. whichever it was, that wouldn’t stop tyler from having fun today. they were going to get food, then have their furbabies meet… then he’d tell her. yeah… that’s the plan.

[legends-of-time]

Thorn Bush (Doctor Who Story)

Chapter 43: Demons of the Punjab Part Two

Masterlist

A/N: Part two!!! 

Apologies for the wait.

——

Kathy opens her eyes to see that they are once more in the hive. The Doctor stands next to her, the Thijarians opposite. Hologram alien script in the air in the centre.

The Doctor immediately turns to the Thijarians, and demandingly asks, "Why does Kathy insist I listen to you?"

"The Prophet knows what's to come, as do we." Kisar speaks.

"Yeah, like what? What are you doing here?"

Kathy puts a hand on the Doctor's arm, giving a stern look. "Listen."

"We are no longer assassins. We are changed." Almak tells her.

"What? Changed how?"

"Our past is no more. We are no longer Assassins. Now we are Witnesses."

"I don't understand." The Doctor answers, baffled.

"We honour the lost. As we can not honour our own." Kisar responds as both Thijarians raise their arms in worship.

"No, still not with you."

"As the Assassins hunted, the Thijarian world was destroyed. We returned to find nothing." As Almak speaks, a holo-projection displays the images of what is being talked about. They point to the container the Doctor holds. "This is all that remains of our home. Our people. Every ancestor. All one dust."

The Doctor's face drops as she looks down at the container she had stolen. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry." She hands it back over.

"Which you would've known if you hadn't been so over-keen." Kathy sternly quips.

Kisar opens the container. They dig their hands in. They look soothed. "They died, unwitnessed, unsaved. We were too late to grieve or honour them." 

The container is placed in the centre console. The Thijarians step back, clasping their hands together against their chests. Kathy and the Doctor do the same out of respect.

"But we who returned gave up a hundred generations to sift, to remember the lost dead. The unmourned." Almak continues.

"In time, it was all we knew." Kisar adds.

"And now we travel beyond. Seeking," a new holo-projection with many planets, "the unacknowledged dead across all of Time and space. This is now the Thijarian mission, to bear witness to those alone. To see, to bear pain, honour life as it passes."

"As each one passes we commemorate union."

"It's what Prem saw with Kunal. What we saw with Bhakti." Kathy summarises.

The Doctor nods. "But why here, why now?"

Kisar bows their head. "Millions will perish, unseen, unknown in the days to come, here."

"The casualties of Partition." Kathy adds.

"We read the timewaves."

"But why this family, why this land?" The Doctor questions. And Prem's face is projected. "Prem."

"His time is soon." Kisar tells her.

The Doctor looks gutted. "How soon?"

The Thijarians are silent, heads bowed.

"Tomorrow." Kathy tells her.

"No, no, that's too soon." The Doctor says frantically.

"He will have his wedding but then..." Kathy looks down, mournful.

"We are not Gods. Events sit as they will. We only witness." Almak declares.

"The fixed force of Time cannot be stopped." Kisar adds.

"If we save him, who knows what'll happen to Yaz." Kathy says. "We cannot intervene."

The Doctor is bereft but nods. "I know." She looks at Prem's image and after a second, a thought, "But if you didn't kill the holy man, if you were only honouring his death -- how did he die?"

"We can show you." Kisar responds.

Kathy tenses at that. The show had never shown it, probably too graphic. But this isn't a TV show, this is reality.

A new holo-projection is displayed. Kathy watches in horror at what she already knew but could not comprehend. To see sweet and gentle Manish brutally kill a kind, holy man with his own brother's gun. 

——

The two of them are quiet as they walk back, crossing the field and towards the barn that sits ahead. Probably contains a frantic group of people who have no idea what's happened to Kathy and the Doctor.

"We can't tell them what Manish did." Kathy says to her. "It may anger him and then who knows—"

"I know, I know." The Doctor mutters, deep in thought.

"Or about what happens to Prem, except maybe Yaz, Ryan and Graham."

The Doctor nods. Kathy knows it won't be difficult for this version of the Doctor to keep things to herself, it's what she becomes known for.

When they reach the barn, Yaz, Ryan and Graham suddenly burst out of it, frantic. Prem following, gun still clutched in his hands, while Manish, Hasna and Umbreen linger by the entrance.

"Where have you been?! You've been gone for hours!" Yaz cries worried, wrapping her arms around Kathy and the Doctor in a tight hug before stepping back, giving them both a once over.

"We've been sitting there chewing our nails off waiting for you two," Graham adds sternly. Kathy doesn't care that she's centuries older than this man, she still feels like a told-off child.

"I know. We're sorry." The Doctor apologises.

"The demons. What happened to them?" Prem asks, his eyes darting towards the tree line as if expecting them to appear and attack.

Kathy pulls out the transmat device the Doctor had grabbed from the tree earlier. "We stole a bunch of these while avoiding them, placed them around the grounds. A temporary transmat barrier around this farm."

"It's what teleported is into their ship and what separated us earlier." The Doctor adds, cottoning into the lie, which isn't difficult as it was what she would've been planning earlier. "We'll be safe."

Ryan frowns. "But Kathy said—"

Kathy quickly shakes her head, cutting him off, "Never mind what I said. We have a wedding to celebrate. That's what's important."

Manish and Yaz both look at her in flabbergasted disbelief though for different reasons.

"Are you serious? After what's just happened?" Manish voices. He turns to Prem and Umbreen. "Can't you see what's happening? You bring demons to life."

"I don't think they're demons—" The Doctor tries to argue.

"Well, I do." Hasna rebuffs. "I'm with Manish."

"How many hours?" Umbreen asks, ignoring her mother.

"Twelve. Eighteen at a push. I can't be sure." Kathy lies, remembering what the Doctor would've originally said.

Umbreen turns to the others. "Tonight we celebrate. And we marry first thing. And then if we have to fight them, we will. Come on!"

Oh, she's so fierce and impressive. 

They all leave except for Kathy, Yaz, the Doctor, Graham and Ryan.

"I can't believe you're letting this marriage go ahead! My Nani to someone who isn't my grandad!" Yaz accuses.

"Also, what happened to no meddling?" Graham questions.

"And where's that purple container?" Ryan wonders.

Kathy and the Doctor share a look. The former sighs. "The Thijarians. They told us everything. We know what happened. And we know what happens."

"Well, technically you already knew." The Doctor quips, deflecting how shaken she still feels.

Kathy rolls her eyes. "Fine, I knew. It was more of a refresh with me."

"I want to know what happens." Yaz declares.

"Prem dies tomorrow." The Doctor tells them.

"We can't let that happen." Yaz says, looking torn as well as horrified.

"It has to." The Doctor argues. "For Umbreen to become your Nani, for you to exist, Prem has to die."

"What about the Thijarians? The container?" Ryan questions.

"Not deadly and neither are they. They've changed. They're not assassins. They instead honour those who die alone." The Doctor explains.

"Aliens with compassion." Graham muses.

"Not as rare as you think." Kathy reminds him.

"But the transmat barrier?" Ryan points out.

Kathy shrugs. "There's no transmat barrier. I lied so the others wouldn't ask questions."

"I've been wondering why she never told me. Umbreen loses her husband on the day she marries. Of course she never wants to talk about it." Yaz says, now realising what's happening.

"I'm sorry, Yaz. We should leave." The Doctor declares.

"No. I want to be sure she's safe. Whatever happens. I want to look after my Nani." Yaz insists.

"I'm with Yaz." Ryan declares.

"Yeah. Me too." Graham steps up.

"Me three." Kathy adds. "Kinda already made a promise to help out anyway."

The Doctor looks at them then a warning, "We can't tell them what we know."

——

That night, Kathy joins the Doctor and Yaz in Umbreen and Hasna's home while Graham and Ryan join Prem and Manish in theirs. The Doctor has been tense and agitated when being near Manish, now knowing what he'd done but Kathy warned her against it.

The last bit of sunlight shines through the slats as the women sit in a circle having their henna done. Kathy is still getting hers done while the others' have theirs drying when the Doctor speaks up from where she's been staring at the drying henna design on her hands in delight.

"This is the best thing, ever." She turns to Kathy and Yaz with a big grin. "Never did this when I was a man!"

Kathy lets out a soft snort. "No, I don't believe you did."

Yaz, noting Umbreen and Hasna's alarmed faces, quickly quips pointedly, "Doctor, Kathy. You and your jokes!"

Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about certain surroundings then.

"Yes. That's right. My references to body and gender regeneration and Kathy's quips are all in jest. Such comedians." The Doctor says, her reply clumsy as she catches on. 

Kathy tries not to outright laugh as Umbreen lets out an awkward chuckle as if she gets the supposed joke.

"Umbreen doesn't think these are my best work," Hasna grumbles, turning to Umbreen, "but maybe if you had to prepare a body the same day, you wouldn't draw so well either."

"So how long've you known Prem?" Yaz asks softly, trying to cut away from the topic. It's not going to help Yaz.

"Our whole lives. We all grew up here together. Our families have worked the land alongside each other for generations." Umbreen beams as she tells her granddaughter (not that she knows it). "I can't believe it's happening. I waited so long for him. All the time he was away fighting, I was terrified he wouldn't come home. But he did. And now I can see my life mapped out with him. Our home, here."

Now Yaz and the Doctor know what's happening, they look like they're trying to rain in any heartbreak they're feeling from Umbreen's words just as Kathy has been doing the entire time. Every time she's heard Prem and Umbreen talk about their future happiness has not been easy.

"If they let us stay." Hasna remarks pessimistically.

"Nobody cares what we do here, Mum. It's not a city." Umbreen argues.

"I stood outside earlier. I heard gangs in the distance. Motor vehicles. Gunshots." Her mother retorts.

"It's a long way away."

"It's not too late. I can still find you a good Muslim man." Hasna pleads.

Umbreen looks at her in disbelief. "Are you joking right now?"

"Look at the misery that follows him. You don't even have a priest! What sort of respectable wedding will it be?" Hasna argues.

"I don't care about traditions! And I don't care about respectable– wait." Umbreen begins to rant before she pauses, turning to the Doctor. "You're a Doctor, right? That's respectable. You could marry us."

Hasna looks scandalised. "Don't be ridiculous—"

"I suppose I could." The Doctor shrugs. "I haven't officiated a wedding since Einstein's!" She turns to Hasna. "His parents didn't approve either. Non-denominational though."

Hasna ignores her ramblings and instead turns in her daughter. "If your father were alive, he'd die on the spot."

"Everyone's saying it's a new future. We make our own traditions now." Umbreen retorts.

"You're on!" The Doctor agrees.

"Are you sure?" Yaz murmurs to her worriedly.

"Don't worry, Yaz. It'll be okay." Kathy reassures. Okay as it can be.

——

The sun rises welcoming a beautiful day that will bring so much violence and horror but Kathy tries not to think about it and instead tries to focus on the one happy thing, Prem and Umbreen's wedding.

Prem and Umbreen stand on either side of the border rope, both wearing garlands on top of their clothes. The Doctor stands behind them, a flower pushed behind her ear. Kathy, Yaz, Ryan, Graham and Hasna, each with a flower pushed behind their ears, watching on the sidelines.

"This is the spot you choose." Prem says in disbelief.

Umbreen reaches across Manish's border rope and grasps his hands, a massive smile on her face. "I'm going to be the first woman married in Pakistan."

"Of course you are." Prem remarks softly. Umbreen laughs.

Kathy can see Yaz smiling at the scene, recalling her Nani's words in the future and realising it's true. But for all her smiles, she's on the verge of tears. The bittersweet mix is unbearable.

Hasna also notices. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" She asks.

"I always cry at weddings." Yaz tries to cover. Kathy reaches over and grasps her hand, squeezing it in comfort.

The Doctor discreetly sonics the rope. It falls away to the stream. "I know there aren't many certainties in any of our lives. But Umbreen, Prem, what I see you in you, is the certainty you have in each other. Something I believe in, my faith. Love, in all its forms, is the most powerful weapon we have. Because love is a form of hope. And like hope, love abides. In the face of everything. You both found love with each other – you believed in it, you fought for it, and you waited for it. And now you're committing to it. Which makes you, right now, the two strongest people on this planet. Maybe in this universe."

Prem and Umbreen gaze at each other, lost in each other, grateful for the Doctor's words.

"I am not sure how we formalise this." The Doctor says.

"I am." Umbreen kneels, and picks up the rope, out of the water. Places it on Prem's wrist. Looks to Yaz. "Will you?"

"That's a Hindu thing isn't it? Tying the hands together." Yaz asks as she moves over.

"Now it can be our thing. If we want it to be."

Prem nods. Yaz ties the couple's hands together as everyone watches. Hasna melting with emotion, despite herself. The Doctor, Kathy, Graham and Ryan watching, smiling, and then catching each other's eyes. Eyes filled with such sadness.

Kathy looks back as she hears the beginning of Umbreen's speech. Manish is stood, alone, distant. Can't stay away, can't be close.

Kathy feels angry at him but also sad at how such a sweet boy whose beliefs have been manipulated so that he turns against his own family and friends.

——

"But I never thought this day would come," Umbreen says, a short while later as she sits on a bale of hay. Prem sits next to her while the Doctor, Kathy, Hasna, Ryan, Yaz and Graham gathered, sit in a semi-circle around her. Metal trays with half-finished food to the side. Manish on the edge of the barn, can't bear to be seen to approve. "It's been tough. People who I wish were here to celebrate..."

Hasna squeezes Umbreen's hand. "They are, bheti."

"The drought was nearly the end of us. But we get to have this day, because of Manish." At Umbreen's words, everyone turns to the shocked Manish while Kathy tenses. "You were tireless. When there was hardly any food, you took none. When we doubted we'd make it through to summer, you kept on. Night and day, we worked those fields together. I'm proud to have been your neighbour. But I'm even prouder now to call you my brother."

And Manish, Kathy can see he's touched by this, so conflicted. Looking to Prem and Hasna, to Umbreen. The boy-man.

Umbreen picks up a sweet and holds it out towards Manish. "You kept us fed, Manish. Will you let me feed you?"

There's a pause from Manish at the request. Kathy looks away not wanting to see the crushed looks on Umbreen and Prem's faces as Manish says, "I didn't work this land for you, Umbreen. I worked it for my brothers. One who didn't come back, and the other I wish hadn't."

"Enough, Manish—" Hasna tries to interrupt.

"No. Look at you all! Don't you understand what's coming?" He holds the room, looking at them. "None of this will make a difference." And he turns and goes.

Kathy and the Doctor share a knowing look before Kathy gives the Doctor a nod. Kathy knows it won't make a difference but it can't hurt and either way, the Doctor will give them the early warning that Hasna and Umbreen will need to get away.

"I'll talk to him." The Doctor offers, standing. "Prem, your turn." She then leaves. 

"Prem looks to the expectant room and takes off his watch. The watch. "OK, so..."

"What're you doing?" Umbreen asks him.

"You did a Hindu thing with the rope, only right I do a Muslim thing too. This is your Mahr, yours to keep forever." And as he goes to hand it, it drops and falls to the floor, hitting the ground, face down. They all hear the crack. Prem is horrified as he cries, "I'm sorry!"

"Cursed." Hasna grumbles quietly.

Umbreen kneels, and picks it up. "It's fine. It's perfect." She shows him, cracked and stopped at 3:27. "This is us. Forever. Our moment in time." Umbreen and Prem share a kiss. 

Kathy looks to Yaz as she watches the watch become what her Nani gives to her in the future.

——

They're still gathered in the barn when the Doctor runs in, drawing everyone's attention.

"Listen, all of you. There are armed men heading up the track. You have to leave now." The Doctor tells them.

"They want the land." Umbreen realises.

"I'm not going anywhere. This is my home. My husband and parents are buried here. I'm not going to abandon it to thugs!" Hasna cries.

"Where's Manish?" Prem questions the Doctor.

"He's leading them here. He killed the holy man. With your rifle."

Prem goes still, a horrified look crosses his face and then he nods. He knows. The inevitability of that just clicks for him. "Of course." It said so quietly; so bereft.

"Mum's right. This is our home. We stay." Umbreen declares.

"The Doctor's right." Kathy cuts in. "If you stay, you'll die."

The clarity of the statement rings through the air. 

Prem turns to Umbreen and Hasna. "Go to the house, get anything essential, and get back here." He instructs.

"I'll help you." Yaz says.

"Me too." Kathy adds. 

The four of them leave the barn quickly.

——

Umbreen and Hasna are rapidly shoving their life into cloth sacks. Kathy and Yaz are helping them then the companion looks up at the wall and she stills as she looks at the map on the wall. A map with a dot on it.

"Is that Sheffield?" Yaz asks.

Umbreen walks over to them. "My Dad brought that map home from the market one day. One night I said, I'll put my finger on this map and where ever it lands, I'm going to go."

Yaz almost smiles as she says, "And you landed on Sheffield."

"Mmm... Sheffield." Kathy remarks almost sarcastically. She shares a knowing look with Yaz cause while Sheffield has its perks, it's the opposite of what she'd describe as exotic. 

"Such an exotic word. It's in England." Umbreen says excitedly. "D'you know it?"

Kathy almost laughs at that.

"Stop talking! We have to leave!" Hasna cries and Unbreen quickly goes back to packing.

Kathy turns and murmurs conspiringly to Yaz, "Kathy I've warned her but don't worry, she's still set on going."

Yaz lets out a slight laugh at that. Kathy's happy to have lifted her spirits even if it's only for a moment.

——

Umbreen, Hasna (both carrying cloth bags) and Yaz and Kathy burst back into the barn. The Doctor, Graham, Ryan and Prem are still there.

"They're nearly here! You need to move out." The Doctor warns them.

"I have to talk to Manish." Prem insists.

"No, Prem. I'm not leaving you here." Umbreen argues.

"I'll distract them long enough to be sure you can get away." Prem counters. "Then I'll be right behind you."

No, you won't...

"It's too dangerous."

"He's my brother." Prem persists. "Across the field, over the border, into the forests. Keep going north."

Umbreen nods reluctantly. Prem and Umbreen kiss, a powerful, tearful, life-or-death kiss. Kathy knows it'll be their last.

"Go." Prem urges.

Umbreen, her heart breaking, and Hasna go.

Prem turns to the rest of them. "You as well."

"I'll come with you." The Doctor argues.

"No. These are demons I have to face alone."

"He's right, Doctor." Kathy agrees.

Prem gives her a thankful nod and then leaves the barn, leaving the group of time travellers alone.

——

The Doctor, Kathy, Ryan, Graham and Yaz run across the field then Yaz stops, calling their attention, Look.

They turn to see: Prem walking towards Manish and the mob. The mob is full of men on horseback with rifles.

They watch, sheltered from view, able to see distant Prem stopping a few yards in front of Manish, and the mob, through the heat haze. The brothers talk then Prem steps forward, touching his brother's cheek. More words are exchanged then a man on horseback raises the rifle. A finger on a trigger.

And up ahead the two Thijarians slam into existence. They all know what this means.

And then the voice, telepathically transmitted. "We will watch over him now."

They move to leave but Yaz is frozen, looking out to Prem with tears in her eyes and her breath shaky. Kathy and the Doctor take her arms to pull her away. 

The Doctor, Yaz, Kathy, Graham and Ryan walk away. Kathy aches to look back, knowing she can't and knowing the others feel the same.

Suddenly a sound. Distant, but unmistakable. Gunfire. A single gunshot rings out. Kathy closes her eyes tightly and keeps moving.

——

"This is a terrible design!" Nani Umbreen scoffs as she traces the faded henna pattern on Yaz's palms with a wrinkled hand as they sit next to each other in Yaz's family's flat. "Was it a good wedding at least?"

"Yeah." Yaz says softly, feeling tearful as she gazes upon her Nani, remembering the younger woman.

Her Nani notices this. "What's the matter, bheti?"

"You loved grandad, didn't you?"

"Of course." Her Nani replies without a doubt.

"And you're happy with how your life turned out?"

Umbreen looks at her granddaughter, baffled. "Why would you be asking that?"

"Just your journey, so many countries, so many years. I can't even begin to imagine what you've dealt with." Yaz says seriously but then her tone takes an amused uplift. "Then you end up in Sheffield of all places!"

"I love Sheffield!" Her Nani retorts, laughing.

"Really?" Yaz asks doubtfully.

"Well, an old friend warned me Sheffield won't be as exotic as I thought it would be, she was right." Umbreen admits. "But it gave us stability. A life. A home. And it gave me your Mum. And it gave me you and your sister."

Yaz smiles. "An old friend?"

"Mmm... She was at your grandfather and I's wedding. Wait a moment." She reaches into her bag and brings out a leather folder, pulling out a photograph. "Here."

Yaz takes it. The photo is in black and white and displays a traditional Hindu wedding with Yaz's grandparents in the centre with a familiar face in the crowd. Kathy.

"She seems lovely." Yaz says.

"Yes, she was."

Yaz looks up with a frown. "Was?"

Nani shrugs sadly. "We lost contact. I received a call from a granddaughter of hers telling me that she'd passed."

Yaz smiles sadly. The granddaughter was probably Kathy herself. She feels sorry for Kathy having to say goodbye to so many people over her lifetime, she can't imagine that kind of pain.

Umbreen sighs before gesturing to Prem's broken watch that she'd gifted to Yaz, which had started the whole adventure. "You want to know about the watch? Really?"

Yaz looks at her grandmother fondly. "No. Tell me another time. I love you, Nani."

"And I love you too, bheti." Umbreen clasps and kisses her granddaughter's hands.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

do you think 13 played dumb on purpose in 11x4 with yaz’s mother “i dont think so” to make it plausible she never realised yaz’s crush?

i dont know how suspicious to be of 13, what she genuinely doesnt know, what shes pretending she doesnt, but i think in general she knows more than people expect and i think that includes me. i think the lies go deeper than you think.

because you can see her decide to lie in that scene at the end of 11x1 when yaz asks “have you got family?” she decides on her first lie there, and then shes kinda dug her grave already because she didnt think she’d be around these people for much longer. so that was a fine decision if not for the fact that they did hang around for much longer and she never really managed to get out of that grave she dug

and she for sure knows at the end of this episode right? because yaz is all hearteyes. so it might be fair to assume she has suspicions or fears before the end of 11x4. maybe not that she knows yaz has a crush on her but that she knows it could turn into that if she lets it follow the pattern we’ve seen with rose and martha and clara

so do you think she did this on purpose? “i dont think so”. ‘im oblivious to these things. i dont notice when people like me. i wouldnt know romance if it hit me in the face. whos morales?’

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

Theory: Claire Brown from Flux is Susan Foreman.

Theory that after the Time War, Susan (having regenerated) realised she was being chased, by the Time Lords, by the Master, whatever. So she used a chameleon arch to disguise herself on Earth.

Evidence:

They have the same vibe. Both Claire and Susan have very similar speaking habits, similar body language, similar personalities. They're both very quiet, very intelligent, fairly awkward, very excitable, both stumble over their words, Susan if I remember correctly used to talk to herself when she was scared, or else would chatter to whoever was nearby, which Claire does, both enthusiastic but seem to try and curb it, same sort of looming darkness, same sense of almost responsibility - which is difficult to explain, but Claire seemed to be trying not to say too much, like she knew things that had to stay secrets. Susan was often similar. 

Second, Claire is knowledgeable about the Doctor - she seems to know a lot, anyway, and as said below seems bemused by the sonic, like she wasn't expecting to see it. 

Only problem so far is that Susan never met the Weeping Angels. BUT, what if Susan-who-lived-in-the-future-with-her-adopted-children-in-the-building-that-was-once-Coal-Hill-School-and-the-diary-that-has-brought-me-to-tears-more-than-once knew about them. Or perhaps they were involved in the Time War (I think this was confirmed? Idk).

What we can gather from Claire's first exchange with the Doctor and Yaz in The Halloween Apocalypse:

Claire, while surprised to see the Doctor again, understands that the Doctor won't know who she is and that they haven't met yet. 

"You don't seem too sure about your past", idk, it feels relevant. Susan never was too sure about her past. Quote: Ping Cho asks where she's from, and she's quiet for a second then says "that's a very difficult question to answer, Ping Cho." Would also be the result of a chameleon arch. 

When the Doctor uses her sonic, Claire looks confused - the First Doctor never had a sonic screwdriver. 

Her speech patterns and behavior are VERY similar to Susan's.  

Her expression upon seeing the Doctor. She's so excited to see her - excited is definitely the right word. Her posture is very similar to Susan's. And when she has to leave, she's almost in tears, staring up at the TARDIS. 

"The long way home, because it's Halloween". Very similar to the quote from An Unearthly Child, 

"No, thank you, Mister Chesterton. I like walking through the dark. It's mysterious."

SHE REFUSES A SHORT CUT AND WALKS HOME THE LONG WAY ROUND BECAUSE IT IS MORE MYSTERIOUS. AND IF HALLOWEEN ISN'T MYSTERIOUS, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS. "I like walking through the dark, it's mysterious"

It would make a lot of sense contextually. With the Timeless Child reveal, we don't know what the implications are for the Doctor's family - i.e. Susan. Is she part whatever-the-Doctor-really-is? Perhaps she's really the Hybrid? (but that's a whole other theory). 

I just read Adventures in Lockdown and if we count that as canon, i.e. if we count A Fellow Traveller as canon, Claire, if I'm right, has a very good reason to recognise the Doctor in this incarnation. 

Claire draws the TARDIS and an angel, among other things. One: this could be fragments of memories (chameleon arch). Two, the drawings themselves are very interesting. If you look at them properly, they look firstly like John Smith's sketches in Human Nature/Family of Blood, and also a little bit similar in style to Susan's drawing in the original Pilot version of An Unearthly Child. 

Claire says she was having "premonitions" before the angel took hold. These sound very similar to Ten's dreams in Smith and Jones. 

To lead on from that, exactly how is she psychic/a seer? It doesn't make any sense if she's fully human, and Susan was a very powerful telepath. This would explain numerous parts of Claire's character. 

It would be very typical for a villain to take Susan hostage rather than just Random Civilian No. 3. Everyone knows, "if you want to get to the Doctor, you get to [their] friends first". Plus, we all know Chibnall's relationship with subtlety - it is emphasised no less than six times in Village of the Angels that Claire is human. Which almost certainly means she is not. 

 Idk. I'll probably add to this later. What do you guys think? I think it would certainly make sense, especially with the Doctor delving into her past and confronting her demons. 

[spacetime1969]

Surviving Jurassic World! A Brooklynn Exclusive! Interlude 2: Q&A

October 20th, YouTube video posted to BrooklynnUnboxesTheWorld:

The video starts showing the campers sitting on the couch. They wave before Brooklynn starts talking.

ALL: Hey!

BROOKLYNN: Hey guys! Welcome to our Q&A! We’ll have a regular episode next week but we wanted to take this opportunity to answer any questions you guys have about the series or about Isla Nublar.

KENJI: So we had you guys send in some questions and we have the top ones here in this hat.

He holds up a Jurassic World baseball cap and shakes it, the folded papers inside rattling around.

BROOKLYNN: I’ll start us off first.

She reaches into the hat and pulls out a piece of paper.

BROOKLYNN: Okay, first question. “How are you guys still alive?”

YAZ: Dumb luck.

The other campers laugh at Yaz’s deadpan reply before Brooklynn continues.

BROOKLYNN: You’ll just have to watch and see.

Ben reaches into the hat and pulls out another question.

BEN: “Does Darius still like dinosaurs?”

He looks up and raises an eyebrow at Darius, who grins.

DARIUS: Absolutely! I mean, I don’t want to go back to Isla Nublar anytime soon, but I still love dinosaurs!

Ben passes the hat to Darius and he pulls another question out.

DARIUS: “How did you get the security camera footage?”

He puts the paper down and looks at Brooklynn.

DARIUS: Want to take this one Brook?

BROOKLYNN: Yeah. Turns out that Jurassic World's security system was set up to store security footage so that it could be reviewed. As for how we got that footage, you’ll just have to wait and see.

Darius passes the hat to Kenji who reads the next question.

KENJI: “What are your opinions on dinosaurs? Should they be exterminated?”

BEN & SAMMY (together): No!

SAMMY: Most dinos are wonderful critters. Even the carnivores are just living their lives.

DARIUS: Yeah! The dinosaurs are living creatures and deserve the same chance to live as any other animal.

The other campers nodded in agreement and Kenji passed the hat to Yaz.

YAZ: “Why didn’t you make it to the ferries?”

Kenji laughs.

KENJI: You’ll just have to wait until next week's episode.

Sammy laughed and grabbed the hat from Yaz.

SAMMY: Ooh, let’s see here. “Were you the only survivors who didn’t make it off the island?”

DARIUS: As far as we know yeah. We searched the island pretty thoroughly while we were trying to find ways off the island, and we didn’t see any signs of other living survivors.

BROOKLYNN: “Next question. Were there any adults with you? What happened to Roxie and Dave?”

DARIUS: Like the last question we were the only survivors on the island. Dave and Roxie chased us all across the island when the Indominus escaped, but we didn’t make it to the ferry with them.

BEN: They actually tried to stay and look for us, but they got shoved on a boat and were forced to leave with everyone else.

Ben pulls a question out of the hat as he talks.

KENJI: “Why did Sammy steal Brooklynn’s phone?”

BROOKLYNN: This one is actually kinda important.

YAZ: Turns out that Sammy here was actually a spy. It’s also why she was taking DNA samples from the sinoceratops.

SAMMY: Yeah, I saw that Brooklynn had a video of me taking those samples and freaked out. I stole the phone try‘n get rid of the evidence.

She tucked her hair behind her ear a little awkwardly.

SAMMY: It didn’t go so well.

Yaz lightly punches Sammy’s shoulder with a small smile.

YAZ: Yeah well, it turned out okay eventually.

Darius pulls another question out of the hat.

DARIUS: “What was your least favorite dinosaur?”

The campers grimace and look at Sammy, whose voice is slightly grim and has pressed her hand to her side.

SAMMY: The Scorpios.

Yaz reaches over and squeezes her hand, making Sammy look at her and smile slightly.

DARIUS: Yeah, I think we can all agree there.

He glances at Ben.

DARIUS: Pteranodon was a close second though.

After a moment Yaz lets go of Sammy’s hand and pulls a question out of the hat, laughing suddenly.

YAZ: I like this one. “How the heck are you guys still alive? You’re absolute idiots! You managed to almost die multiple times before the park fell, how on earth did you manage to survive when they were running free?”

The other campers start laughing too before Yaz answers the question.

YAZ: Like I said before it was a lot of luck at first, but we did end up working really well together as a team.

DARIUS: We also stopped treating the dinos like they were safe. Almost get eaten enough times and you’ll develop a healthy sense of fear real quick. Unless you’re Ben, in which case you develop a lack of fear and a disturbing love of explosions.

Yaz laughs again and passes the hat to Sammy, who pulls out another question.

SAMMY: “How did you guys get off the island?”

She grins and looks at Kenji.

KENJI (sing song): No spoilers!

Brooklynn rolls her eyes and pulls out the last question.

BROOKLYNN: Last one, “What was the coolest thing about being on Isla Nublar?” Ooh, that’s a hard one.

DARIUS: Well personally I think it was definitely the watering hole. Getting to see all those dinosaurs acting so naturally was amazing!

KENJI: Yeah that was pretty cool.

YAZ: It definitely wasn’t the canned peaches.

BROOKLYNN: At least they weren't carob!

The campers shudder dramatically at the mention of carob, except Ben.

BEN: Oh come on, carob isn’t that bad.

Darius shakes his head fondly.

DARIUS: Ben, we love you, but you’re wrong. Also, you still eat grubs.

Ben rolls his eyes but grins.

BEN: They are a very good source of protein!

Darius opens his mouth to continue the argument, he’s clear he’s enjoying it, but Sammy interrupts.

SAMMY: No! We’re not having this conversation! I don’ need ta hear about all the health benefits of eat’n grubs again.

Brooklynn laughs before changing the topic.

BROOKLYNN: Going back to the question I think that the dinosaurs were definitely the coolest part of the island, at least when they weren’t trying to eat us.

YAZ: Yeah, the coolness really gets nerfed when the cool thing is trying to kill you. But they’re dinosaurs, they’re still cool.

The other campers nod in agreement.

BROOKLYNN: Well that’s all the time we have, so thanks everyone for watching! Make sure to subscribe so you don’t miss next week's episode and check out our instagram and twitter linked below, and we'll see you next week on Surviving Jurassic World!

The campers all wave to the camera.

ALL: Bye!

Video End

Master Post | Beginning | Previous | Next (I’m working on it)

Taglist that I forgot to add:

@depressed-bitchy-demon

[thereweresunflowers]

✨ star of wonder 💙

thasmin fic - 6101 words - rating: G - christmas getting together fluff

read on ao3!!

She looks at the stars like that sometimes, Yaz thinks. And now she’s looking at me.

An impromptu Christmas, a trip to Paternoster Row, and some matchmaking from the best detective wives in the business. Copious use of mistletoe and slow dancing ensues - and not just for Jenny and Vastra.

merry christmas and happy holidays, @gethelpfics !! i hope you have a lovely festive day, and enjoy this (not so litte, i got carried away) gift :) and also a massive cheers to @thasminsecretsanta for putting this event together!!

Chapter 1: We Traverse Afar

“What do you want to do for Christmas this year, Yaz?” the Doctor asks, the warm light from the TARDIS awash on her face. 

She doesn’t look up from where she’s knees deep in the TARDIS’s wiring, shirt sleeves pushed up past her elbows and hair falling in unruly strands against her face. 

“Christmas?” Yaz laughs, taken aback by the randomness of the question. And also how the Doctor seems to be a little bashful, holding her hand out for more duck tape without quite catching Yaz’s eye.

This is a normal pastime between the two of them, fixing up the TARDIS together. The Doctor humming away to herself, chatting with Yaz sitting next to her on the TARDIS floor, while she repairs the bits and bobs that get broken along the way of their adventures. 

“Yeah, Christmas,” the Doctor says, a smile spreading over her face at Yaz’s laughter, if a little confused. A slight blush is tingeing the tips of her cheeks. “What, what’s so funny about Christmas?”

Yaz stifles her chuckles. “No, I’m sorry, it’s not that funny. We’re just time travellers, is all. I’ve no idea when Christmas actually is anymore. It could be August for all I know.”

“Oh,” the Doctor’s face falls. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”

Yaz’s heart sinks at Doctor’s sudden disappointment; she feels the heat rising on her own face. “But it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” she says hastily. “I mean, I guess it means it could be Christmas any time for us.”

“You think so?” the Doctor asks, the words coming out of her quickly, the way they always do when she really means something. 

Sometimes, to Yaz, the Doctor is completely unreadable - a book full of pages in every language she can’t understand but wishes desperately she could. And then, other times, for a second, the Doctor is there in perfect clarity. And Yaz feels like she’s reading something she shouldn’t.

Yaz wants her to really mean it, is the thing. But she doesn’t think she’s even meant to know the Doctor means it for her to want it in the first place.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Yaz says with a smile.

“Alright,” the Doctor grins. “What do you want to do then? I mean, I guess it’s the first Christmas we’ve had just the two of us.”

She catches Yaz’s eye then and the moment crackles in the air, static on the radio. But it’s not white noise that’s playing. It’s I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you I want 

“Pass us that tape again, would you?” the Doctor babbles. 

The words come out in a rush. She must mean that, then, too.

“I’m not sure,” Yaz says haltingly. “It might be nice to take it slow, you know?”

She passes the Doctor the tape. The lights from the TARDIS’s insides are all multicoloured, glowing up from under the floor like strings of Christmas lights, reflecting on their faces. Yaz looks at the Doctor and the Doctor looks away. 

“Really make the most of it?”

The Doctor looks at Yaz and Yaz looks away. 

“Yeah,” the Doctor says; Yaz can still feel her gaze on her, along the nape of her neck. 

Can the Doctor see the goosebumps springing up under her stare? 

“Yeah, I like that.” 

The Doctor goes back to clattering around, winding an ambitious amount of tape along a splintering wire. As she does so Yaz hears the little intakes of breath the Doctor makes, as if she’s just about to speak. She hears it a few times, and for a few times words never follow, just the static now woven into the thrum of the TARDIS’s breathing. I want you I want you I want

Turning her gaze back to the Doctor, Yaz has to bite her lip to stop smiling so widely at the sight of her, with the back of her shirt untucked from where she’s been crouched over, and blowing her hair out of her face. 

Maybe it’s the universal translator the Doctor is fixing up. Maybe that’s why this all comes in starts and stops.

Sparks go flying as the Doctor jams the end of the wire she’s just been patching up straight into the open end of another, leaving a little stream of smoke winding into the air between them. 

The Doctor breathes in again, and this time, she manages to follow through: “I’ve got an idea for what we can do. How about we visit some of my old friends?”

-

“After you,” the Doctor grins, swinging the door of the TARDIS back and sweeping her gangly arm into the outside world.

“Thank you,” Yaz grins, heading out into a gust of chilly wind.  

They’ve parked on a street corner. The teetering streets of terraced houses either side of her give her an idea of where they might be, but she calls back to the Doctor anyway. “And where are we?”

“Paternoster Row, London, 1891,” the Doctor announces, stepping out of the TARDIS herself. She sniffs. “No, 1893.”

“Close enough,” laughs Yaz as the Doctor shuts the door behind them. 

The wind sends both their coats flapping, and the duo huddle in on themselves, exclaiming from the cold. The 19th century-looking coat Yaz picked out from the depths of the TARDIS wardrobe is actually quite warm, but the breeze still manages to work its way under her jumper and skirt. 

The Doctor has changed for once too, out of her usual steel blue and into a swish ulster-style coat. It reaches down to her boots, with a small cape hanging stylishly by her elbows. The dark brown tweed draws out the hazelnut warmth of the Doctor’s eyes.

“Tweed suits you,” Yaz says, nodding to the Doctor’s outfit. It’s the least she can say, really, smoke signals to the feelings kindling a small fire in her stomach.

“Awh, thanks. It’s been a few regenerations since I heard that, but you can never go wrong with a bit of tweed.”

There she goes: the Doctor’s many lifetimes brought back to reality in the few words of an offhand sentence. Often, Yaz finds it’s easier to think of the Doctor as just her Doctor. She’s undeniably alien, but sometimes Yaz can imagine it’s just the two of them, rather than the however many people the Doctor has been before and the however many companions they’ve had over those lifetimes. They can go weeks as just two women travelling the universe, before throwaway comments bring the real world crashing back in. 

A lot rides on the throwaway remarks of a Time Lord, Yaz has learned.

“It’s not half cold though,” the Doctor grumbles. “We should’ve come in summer.”

The trouble is distinguishing which throwaway remarks are simply that - throwaway - and which ones Yaz is meant to catch and save.

“Then it wouldn’t be Christmas, though, would it,” she reminds the Doctor with a laugh. “C’mere.” Yaz tugs the open sides of the Doctor’s coat together and starts to button it up. Maybe Yaz hadn’t meant to pull the Doctor in quite so close, because her breath is very warm against Yaz’s cheek. She fumbles a little with the clasps.

“You don’t normally dress up,” Yaz says, clearing her throat.

“It’s a long coat, Yaz. Can never say no to a long coat.” 

Yaz can feel the small smile in the Doctor’s words as they settle against her skin. “Glad to have found the key to your heart,” she chuckles, aiming for levity, but the words fall heavily on her tongue as she glances upwards and catches the Doctor’s gaze.

There’s a snowflake caught in her eyelashes.

“Okay, I’m all done,” Yaz starts just as the Doctor chatters at the same time.

“I would say you look nice too, but you always look nice.”

“Oh,” Yaz says. “Thanks.” 

She smiles bashfully at the Doctor and the Doctor smiles bashfully back. It feels a little bit like apologising to each other, and a little bit like forgiving each other at the same time.

“Right then,” the Doctor says, brash again in the blink of an eye. “Shall we head off, milady?” Her confidence slips a little on the final syllable, but she offers Yaz her arm anyway, and when Yaz takes it with a grin the light in her eyes rekindles. 

“Of course, milord,” Yaz laughs, bumping her shoulder against the Doctor’s as they walk out onto the wintery London street proper.

Horses and carts trot up and down the cobblestones, with a decided layer of snow draped over the rooves of all the houses and piled up along the sides of the paths. Wreaths deck almost every door, and candles light almost every window.

Yaz breathes it all in with a sigh which sweeps the cobwebs out of her soul. That feeling of Christmas she hasn’t felt in such a long time comes slipping back into her veins as easily and naturally as the snowflakes seem to tumble down from the sky.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees the Doctor glance at her. “Milord?”

Yaz looks back, a little confused. “Yeah?”

“Oh,” the Doctor says. “I thought I’d be a milady too, is all.”

Yaz startles a little seeing the chagrin on the Doctor’s face. “Well it’s just I’ve always heard one replied to with the other, I guess. But you are a milady. I didn’t mean anything by it, honest.”

She smiles reassuringly at the Doctor, but the Doctor’s eyes stray from hers still. They roam to the couples stomping up and down the cobblestone in their boots and hats, to where a man in a long coat helps a women with an elaborate skirt up into a carriage.

“Would it be easier?” the Doctor asks, not quietly, just maybe cautiously. “If I was a lord?”

Yaz stops them in the middle of the street, placing the hand that isn’t already entwined with the Doctor’s arm on her shoulder. This is something she needs her Doctor to understand, instinctively. “No. No it wouldn’t be.” 

The intensity of her own words stun her, and a horse whinnies behind them in annoyance as its rider jerks it out the way. She wants to step away to the side of the street - she wants to step away from the Doctor, like she does in the TARDIS, and keep the peace. 

She doesn’t really want to do any of that. 

“I really like you as a lady,” Yaz says, forcing the words up her throat. They’re only difficult to say because they’re so true. “Nothing could be easier than this.”

There’s that static again, humming in the air years before radios are invented. It’s getting louder every time - can the Doctor hear it now too? 

Is Yaz saying too much?

But the Doctor looks at her with her eyebrows drawn upwards, her face falling open, and the crinkles around her eyes move with her smile. She looks at the stars like that sometimes, Yaz thinks. And now she’s looking at me.

“Right,” the Doctor says a little breathlessly, like she always does before she starts spinning a plan. But the plan doesn’t come. “Good. Brilliant.”

Sometimes, Yaz isn’t sure if the Doctor is telling her the truth, just in a different language to the one she speaks. It’s all she can do to lean in a little, and nudge the Doctor into tightening the link of their arms. 

“Milady,” she says conspiratorially. 

“Milady,” the Doctor repeats to her with a grin, and marches off with Yaz in tow, towards one of the largest houses on the street.

-

Chapter 2: Ceasing Never

“So who actually are these friends of yours we’re meeting?” Yaz asks as they hurry up to the front door.

“Jenny Flint and Madame Vastra. Two of the greatest detectives I know. Probably the sweetest couple too.”

The Doctor raps confidently on the wreathed door, then turns to Yaz

“Oh, and before I forget it, Vastra does look a bit like a big lizard.”

Yaz blinks. “A bit? How much is a bit?”

The Doctor’s face scrunches as she struggles to find the answer to the apparently difficult question, and before she can open her mouth to say, the door swings open. 

A slightly flustered woman with dark hair curling delicately behind her head stands in the doorway. She’s wearing a thin white dress, which, despite its coverage, looks like some kind of Victorian lingerie. 

“Hello Jenny! Long time no see, ey?” the Doctor grins, waving energetically. She doesn’t seem to notice the state of undress Jenny is in. “Is Vastra in?”

“Sorry, do I know you?” Jenny asks, arms braced on either side of the door to block the Doctor’s enthusiastic attempts to move inside.

“Oh, I completely forgot! It’s me! But I’ve regenerated - maybe a few times since you last saw me. And this is Yaz, my best friend Yaz. I thought we could come round for Christmas if that’s alright with you?”

It’s all Yaz can do to give Jenny a smile and an apologetic wave while the Doctor rambles on. Jenny glances between the pair of them; her eyebrows are practically in her hairline by the time she manages to work out what’s going on.

“Doctor?” she utters, in a soft and undeniably cockney voice.

“There we go!” the Doctor grins, finally darting into the house as Jenny relaxes.

“Cor, you don’t half look different!” Jenny calls after her, before turning to Yaz and ushering her warmly into the house. She grabs a shawl from the collection of coats by the door and wraps it around herself. “You’re travelling with her now then, Yaz?” 

Yaz nods. “Something like that, yeah. It’s nice to meet you, by the way. Sorry about the… barging in.”

Jen shakes her head with a chuckle. “Oh, it’s fine. I was just posing for Vastra and our usual butler is on holiday. We weren’t expecting anyone, but I don’t think you ever expect the Doctor.”

She shoots a knowing glance at Yaz and Yaz can’t help but smile back. 

“And it’s nice to meet you too!” Jenny continues, beckoning Yaz to take off her jacket. “Always good to meet a friend of the Doctor’s - or best friend, even. She must like you, I haven’t heard them say that before.”

Yaz falters where she’s taking off her coat. She tries to hide it, but Jenny’s eyes are bright and acute and she doesn’t think she quite manages it. “Really?

Jenny hums affirmatively, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. 

“Here, let me help you,” she says, pulling Yaz’s coat off for her and placing it on the banister. “Now, I would offer you a drink but I feel it’d be wise to check on where the Doctor’s gotten too first.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Yaz laughs.

She follows Jenny as she hurries along the hallway, which is decked out in red and green and gold. Pinned over almost every door is a small cluster of mistletoe, its signature white berries shining brightly against the wallpaper. 

“You’re into your mistletoe then,” Yaz points out, as Jenny strides down the corridor, obviously with an idea as to where the Doctor might have gotten to. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jenny grins, a little mischievously. “My wife isn’t the most physically affectionate of people, but she does love a tradition. I just like to make use of that a little over the festive period. Here we go!”

Jenny beckons her into a drawing room towards the back of the house, away from the prying eyes of the great bay windows. Inside, the Doctor is stood in front of a large canvas with her arm tilted awkwardly up by her face, obviously trying to pose. Yaz stifles a fond giggle at the Doctor agitatedly attempting to stand still while chatting away all the while. From behind the large canvas, the woman who the Doctor is rambling to - presumably Madame Vastra - emerges.  

Yaz makes a mental note to ask the Doctor what looking ‘a lot’ like a lizard entails, seeing as Vastra looks a lot more like a lizard than the ‘little bit’ Yaz had been imagining.  

The lady of the house is tall and stately, moving with a grace only emphasised by her dignified smile; she is also decidedly green and scaly and dressed in a gorgeously intricate 19th century gown.

“You must be Yaz,” Vastra says, waving an elegant hello with her paintbrush in hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you,” Yaz starts, but is fast interrupted by Jenny.

“Oi, I thought I was meant to be posing for you!” 

Vastra shrugs. “Well you ran off, and then the Doctor arrived and they looked even more like you than normal so I simply thought that while you were busy, she could fill in.”

Jenny lets out a loud, incredulous sigh, and pulls the shawl tighter.

Vastra walks over where she’s standing in the doorway, putting a tender scaled hand on her arm. “I meant nothing by it dear, really,” she says softly. Her voice is silken and rich.

Slowly, a smile catches on Jenny’s face as she looks up at her wife. “I know,” she chuckles. “And now seeing as we’re under the mistletoe…”

Vastra looks up and instantly bites her lip as she sees the bundle of white berries pinned along the doorframe directly over them. 

“I should’ve known,” she hums, her deep laughter emanating out her throat. She leans down to press an affectionate kiss on Jenny’s lips and Jenny drifts into it, lifting her hand to stroke Vastra’s scaled face.

Yaz looks over at the Doctor and the Doctor looks away.

Jenny and Vastra pull apart, having made love look easy. 

The Doctor clears her throat. “I’d love a tea, if that’s alright,” she says loudly.

“Of course, Jeny will bring some through,” Vastra says, springing into action. Yaz didn’t think lizards could blush, and maybe it’s a trick of the light, but Yaz could swear she sees Vastra’s green cheeks flush.

Jenny grumbles goodnaturedly, and returns a minute or so later in a change of clothes and with a tray of holly and ivy painted china and steaming teapots of steadfast christmas tea. 

“How old are you now then, Doctor?” Vastra asks, settling down in one of the two plush armchairs dotted about the room with her drink. 

“You said you’ve regenerated a few times since we last saw you?” Jenny follows up as she flops down onto the other armchair opposite Vastra.

That leaves the sprawling sofa free, and Yaz can’t tell who sits down first or how they come to be so close together, but she and the Doctor end up sat with their knees pressing against one another anyway.

The Doctor wriggles slightly uncomfortably in her seat at Jenny’s question. It’s a small gesture, something Yaz only sees because she’s spent the last years of her life trying to translate the Doctor’s every movement for when her words fail.

It’s a touchy topic, this. So touchy Yaz knows little about it herself, and the Doctor doesn’t like speaking about it unless Yaz really pushes her. 

“Have you seen me all old and Scottish?” the Doctor asks in reply, looking everywhere but Yaz.

It’s strange for Yaz, obviously, to imagine her Doctor all grey and wrinkly and Scottish. But it must be strange for the Doctor, too, to admit she was someone so different to someone who never knew her that way. 

It doesn’t mean she’s not half curious. But Yaz doesn’t say anything.

Jenny and Vastra just look at each other bemusedly and shake their heads. 

“Oh, well you’ve got that to look forward to. Sorry. I’ve regenerated twice since you’ve last seen me, then. And I don’t…” the Doctor clears her throat.  “I don’t know how old I am anymore.”

There’s a weight to those words Yaz has always wanted to help shoulder, and they drop like stones in the stream of conversation. She knocks her knee against the Doctor’s and hopes the Doctor can understand it means I’m sorry, I know, I’m here, all at once. From the look the Doctor gives her from underneath her eyelashes, she does.

Yaz senses Vastra’s piercing gaze linger on their exchange, and tries to shake off the movement with a smile sent her way. But when she does make eye contact with Vastra, Yaz's stomach drops almost instinctively, and she gets the feeling that maybe she just gave herself away. 

Jenny chatters on. “Oh, it’s always a nightmare keeping track of age though, isn’t it? I can barely keep track of 29, let alone Vastra’s 65 million, or however many it is.”

“65 million?” Yaz starts forward in surprise, before snapping her mouth shut. “Sorry, that was rude, I just-”

“No, it’s okay,” Vastra chuckles, “I’ve spent many years of my life sleeping, but I am decidedly old. Older than the Doctor, too, which is a challenge for most. I don’t know how Jenny puts up with me.”

The Doctor returns her smile, but it’s distracted. “How do you do it?” she asks instead, low, and restless. “Isn’t it difficult?”

The Doctor doesn’t say what it is, but Yaz doesn’t need the universal translator to decode what she means. Vastra seems to know too, looking at the Doctor in a way Yaz thinks only extremely old beings may be able to look at each other. 

“Me and Jenny, we’re not time travellers. This is our time, we are in our century. And in this world of secrets, we have still made it our own.” Vastra’s words are clear in the quiet of the room. Gentle, but pointed. “Surely, out of time, there is more space for honesty than anywhere else. You make your own time.”

“Even when it’s running out?” 

The Doctor’s words don’t crack in Yaz’s chest; it’s not the first time she’s said something like that. They just burn like the ice wind whipping through the streets, somewhere deep inside.

But Vastra just shrugs, like it’s simple. “Time is like anything else. It only runs when you let it chase you.” 

And for a second, Yaz believes her. Maybe it is. 

-

There have been few times in the last couple of years where Yaz remembers the Doctor as relaxed as she is when she’s sat in Jenny and Vastra’s cosy drawing room at Christmas. She’s on top form, quipping and laughing at anything, and darting uneasy topics of conversation quite skilfully. If Vastra and Jenny find it strange she’s no longer who she was before, too, they don’t show it. 

Her knee is pushed up against Yaz’s the entire time.

The shared heat of the body contact which had become so integral to Yaz is rudely ripped from her when the Doctor finally gets fidgety and has a wander around the space. Yaz doesn’t even realise she’s turned to watch her until the Doctor is shooting her little looks from across the room that tell her everything from they’ve redecorated - I don’t like it to we should get one of these for the TARDIS. 

“While it’s quiet, I’m gonna refill the kettle for some more tea, love, do you want to give me a hand?” Jenny says to Vastra in the lull of conversation, making a move for the doorway again. She has a tray of teapots balanced easily under one arm. 

In all honesty, it hadn’t really occurred to Yaz that the room had fallen silent. A room with the Doctor in is never really silent - there’s that static in the air, and the million little methods of communication the Doctor is giving out at all times. There’s always something to seek to understand.

Vastra rolls her eyes fondly at Jenny. “If this is another ploy to get me under the mistletoe-”

“I thought you liked kissing me?” Jenny pouts, really quite adorably.

“Yes dear I do, but my lips are starting to get rather chapped.”

“Oh, suit yourself,” Jenny shrugs. “Yaz can come instead.” 

She tugs Yaz up from the sofa with her free hand and tows her across the room.

“Don’t go kissing her!” Vastra calls exasperatedly. 

The Doctor’s head darts up from where she’s fiddling around with Vastra’s painting, her face all scrunched, and Yaz would be lying if she said that wasn’t a little gratifying.

Jenny pulls a face back at Vastra. “You’ll miss me one day,” she sings as she flounces out of the room.

Before she goes to follow, Yaz turns and sees the ancient woman whose wife will live for a heartbeat of her lifetime laugh at Jenny’s words like they won’t come true. Behind Vastra, the Doctor’s eyes are dark and wide. 

When she glances over to Yaz, though, she still manages a smile.

Out in the hallway, Jenny leads them over to the kitchen, where she sets the tray of china down by the sink and busies herself with rinsing the cups while the kettle boils.

“How long have you and Vastra been together?” Yaz asks, leaning against the wooden table. 

It’s solid beneath her fingers. It’s strange, that something as simple as having a kitchen table feels like a novel concept to her now. Thinking about it, she hasn’t been home in a while. But thinking about it, she doesn’t care as much as she would expect.

“Can you dry while I wash?” Jenny asks, nodding towards a towel which Yaz picks up and soon starts running around the rim of a freshly washed mug. “And me and Vastra have been together for about a decade now. We got married six years ago - it’s our wedding anniversary tomorrow.” She grins, that faraway look romantic entanglements always seem to instil in people glazing her eyes as her hands automatically turn and scrub in the sink.

Wow,” Yaz utters, the kind of longing that makes her want to get a solid wood kitchen table for the TARDIS creeping up upon her in an instant. But she catches Jenny’s eyes and realises that there are other, more esteemed responses to that comment. “Congratulations!” she catches herself with. “That must be- just really lovely.”

Jenny turns from where she’s washing, and suddenly looks right into Yaz like she’s seeing more than she had before. “I forgot how rough it was at the start,” she says, placing the cup she was down on the side. “But it’s a lot, isn’t it?”

Yaz shakes her head. “What do you mean? What’s a lot?”

Jenny smiles in a way which is ever so slightly patronising, and full of understanding. “Falling in love with an alien so old they might as well be immortal.”

“No one ever said anything about love-”

“And on top of it all, the immortal alien is a woman.”

Yaz closes her mouth. 

Stony daylight filters in through the great window above the sink, casting the room in a stark clarity.

Jenny, bathed in light, nods, and smiles that smile again. “I’ve been there. I’ve been exactly there, Yaz. And I know it’s going to feel impossible. Hell, she might tell you that herself - but it’s not. Look at Vastra. Look at me.” 

And Jenny gazes at her with such earnestness Yaz can hardly breathe.

“It’s all-big and small, and easy and difficult at the same time,” Yaz murmurs. “It’s like every feeling comes at once. And it still doesn’t compare to anything she can feel.”

“But she does feel it, you know,” Jenny says, her endless practicality seeping through her wisdom. She leans back against the table next to Yaz, close enough for it to be kindness. “I can tell. Here’s what I learnt, with Vastra- she doesn’t often say what she means. She can’t. Because it’s just like you said, nothing can equate to how she feels. So she’ll say something else.”

Yaz tilts her head. “What do you mean, say something else?”

“Just something little, like- like saying ‘merry Christmas’ when she means I love you. There are codes and languages you can only decipher by being there with her. But you’ll decipher them.”

Yaz lets out a laugh. “God, it’s the moments where I can understand her which are the scariest.”

Jenny pulls her into a tight hug, then, wet hands and all. It’s a proper one with a tight squeeze; the kind of hug where you know something special is being shared. “Oh, you’ll be fine, you’ll be,” she says with a smile. “You know far more than I ever did.”

“Really?” Yaz says doubtfully.

“Really,” Jenny nods fervently, face still awash in the airy light. She takes the towel back from Yaz’s hands and wacks it against her side as if to shoo her off. “Now go on, you’ve spent long enough yacking away with me. Go and get your immortal alien girl, Yaz.”

Yaz huffs, but she’s smiling. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, Jen.”

Jenny just waves her hand like it’s nothing as Yaz heads back to the drawing room, under yet another wreath of mistletoe.

-

Chapter 3: Following Yonder Star

The rest of the day passes in the hearth-warmed festivities of Paternoster Row. Vastra and Jenny prove outstanding hosts, with a constant stream of christmas tea, mince pies, and scintillating conversation. They recount several adventures which come startlingly close to Sherlock Holmes plots, and Yaz files a mental note to ask the Doctor about that later.

By the time the white snow clouds of the morning have darkened to a stoic navy in the evening, Yaz is more than grateful the Doctor mentioned Christmas. She really had lost track of the time in the tumbling days of the TARDIS, and it’s nice to have a proper holiday with the Doctor. One without running, and saving people, and more running. 

One, somehow, with dancing.

Vastra sets the gramophone standing proudly in the corner playing orchestral carols and Jenny eagerly opens her arms to her to start swaying in time to the beat. The drawing room is spacious enough for the floor to feel empty with only two people up on their feet.

Yaz gets the funny feeling this was Jenny’s idea.

“Fancy a dance?” she asks the Doctor. 

They’ve both shuffled about a bit since first arriving; they’re nestled together on the sofa again, but Yaz is now lying down the length of the couch with her knees up and feet tucked cosily under the Doctor’s legs. The Doctor is sprawled across her side of the chair, a cushion smushed up to her chest. 

Her profile is silhouetted slightly in the low light of the gas lamps as she looks out to where Vastra and Jenny are waltzing.

“I’m not very good,” she says with a chuckle. “You could probably find someone who wouldn’t step on your toes.” 

She pauses for a minute, and Yaz wonders how much of this conversation is going to be a metaphor. 

“It wouldn’t hurt me,” Yaz replies, softly. “I want to dance with you.”

The Doctor’s eyes dart upwards and her hair sways, waving and shining golden in the light. There’s that static again, thrumming softly in the air, and it isn’t just the white noise of the gramophone. 

I want you I want you I want 

“It’s just a dance,” Yaz says. It doesn’t have to be anything else. As much as she wants it to be. “Not everything has to mean something else.”

The Doctor looks at her, the corner of her lip twitching slightly upwards. Yaz isn’t sure what to make of the smile.

“Yeah, okay,” the Doctor says, and Yaz feels that kindling in her stomach catch again as she rises to offer the Doctor her hand. 

“Milady,” Yaz grins.

“Milady,” the Doctor laughs.

It’s a little awkward at first, working out which hand to put where. The Doctor seems to instinctively place her hand on Yaz’s waist, which saves Yaz from having to press her palm against the Doctor’s thin t-shirt at the curve of her hip, but also means the Doctor’s hand is on her waist. It’s warm, close. Careful and steady.

Yaz places her hand over the Doctor’s shoulder, and she can just feel the movement of the Doctor’s shoulder blade under the tips of her fingers. Yaz senses her intake of breath betray her.

“You okay?” the Doctor asks. 

They’ve started to sway slowly in time to the music. Star of wonder, star of night, is spinning slowly out of the gramophone; beside them, Vastra and Jenny are dancing gracefully.

“Yeah,” Yaz reassures the Doctor. “Just remembering how to dance.”

The Doctor rolls her eyes. “Why did you ask to dance if you can’t remember how to?” 

“Well Jenny and Vastra looked like they were having fun, I wanted to join in,” Yaz says with a shrug.

“Yeah,” the Doctor says, looking over her shoulder to where the wives are waltzing. “That’s fair.”

They sway for a little longer, a blush of red creeping up the Doctor’s cheeks, before mischief sneaks into her eyes and the little giggle she barely manages to stifle is the only warning Yaz gets before the Doctor sends her spinning, lifting her hand up to twirl Yaz underneath. 

Yaz knows a battle when she sees one and so grabs the Doctor’s waist in return, and lifts her into the air. The Doctor yelps above her, and Yaz laughs as she spins them once, twice again, before releasing her back down. The Doctor takes her in her arms and dips her low, now also in a fit of laughter. The antics only really stop as Yaz crashes back into the Doctor’s side and settles, chortling, with her chin nestled by the Doctor’s shoulder. 

The Doctor’s guffaws ruffle Yaz’s hair, until she slows to a chuckle, then falls back to her regular breathing. 

“Are you okay?” Yaz asks, a lightness in her voice. Maybe it can be a simple question.

The Doctor quietens, like she’s wondering whether the words in her throat are sensible ones. Like the question Yaz asked wasn’t very simple at all.

“Maybe this doesn’t have to be just a dance,” the Doctor says eventually. “Maybe this means something else.”

Yaz starts. She pulls away from her in surprise, to see the woman in front of her in full. ‘What?”

“I want it- I want it to mean something else.”

The haze of the lamplight and the overcast evening is clearing into hyper focus. 

“Really?”

“Come with me,” the Doctor says, taking Yaz’s hand in hers and leading her firmly into the corridor.

Out of the corner of her eye, Yaz just about sees Jenny punching the air as Vastra gives a very satisfied smile. 

Then the two of them are alone in the hallway, stood under a doorway; framed. In this moment, the whole world is picturesque. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, Yaz,’ the Doctor says. “And I’ve needed to tell you for a while.”

She’s holding Yaz’s hands. 

The Doctor takes a deep breath and looks upwards, seemingly to avoid looking down. Yaz follows the long curve of her neck and the bright tension of her gaze all the way up to the doorframe. There’s mistletoe hanging above them.

Vastra and Jenny really must kiss every time they pass each other in the hallway.

The Doctor chuckles softly, and looks back down at Yaz.

“What is it, Doctor?” Yaz whispers. She’s asking a question, but it feels like a confession. To speak in whispers to the chatty, brash woman in front of her. 

The Doctor’s still holding Yaz’s hands, and there’s softness between them. Then, she leans forward, slowly, like Yaz has a gravity she can no longer escape, and presses a sweet awaited kiss to the corner of Yaz’s lips. Not quite her cheek, not quite her mouth, but a little of both. Just like the days between Christmas and New Year, it’s full of everything and nothing at once. 

It’s the kiss of a time traveller. Of an immortal alien girl.

It’s Yaz’s first kiss in years, and it’s perfect; she drifts into the Doctor’s space with her when she pulls back. She simultaneously feels like that holy star of wonder, feels like the brightest winter sun and all the snow it glistens upon, feels like a whole, brilliant, supernova. 

I have you, I have you, I have you.

And it’s another one of those moments where Yaz can read the Doctor in perfect clarity.

The Doctor smiles. “Merry Christmas.”

These next words are not difficult for Yaz to say, but they’re truer than anything. 

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

[regenderate-fic]

All the Same (In Living Memory)

Fandom: Doctor Who Ship: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan Series: Fanzine Prompts Rating: General Other Tags: Post-LotSD, Introspective, Memory Loss, Character Study Word Count: 2,601 Read on AO3

Summary: The Doctor reckons with her missing memories and her relationship to Yaz.

Belated prompt fill for @thirteenfanzine prompt week day 2: roots.

NOTES: i started writing this for day 2, almost gave up on it when i realized it wouldn't be done in time, but i liked it enough that i had to finish it. so. rip me. i didn't edit this also but i really like it anyway so. give me a chance here <3

There’s a hole in the Doctor’s mind. 

It’s always been there, deep down inside, hidden away. Hidden at her center, at her core, covered by centuries of debris.

It’s a miracle, really, that the vacuum of the hole hasn’t made her entire self a supernova, flaring out, exploding, before shrinking into nothing. It’s a miracle that any part of her still exists.

But the Doctor has always been a miracle. That’s what she’s learned, anyway.

A miracle, or an example of profoundly bad luck. It depends who you ask, probably.

Sometimes she thinks about asking Yaz.

(Yaz wonders, sometimes, what’s happening in the Doctor’s mind. She sees the frantic movement in the Doctor’s eyes. But she knows the Doctor will never tell. Not even if she asks.

It doesn’t stop her from putting her life in the Doctor’s hands.)

The Doctor doesn’t know when she realized the hole was there. She had an inkling, maybe, last regeneration— after all, seventy slow years at university gives one a lot of time to reflect. It’s possible that her old self felt it, the creeping sensation of something missing. 

She’s gotten very good at ignoring creeping sensations, over the years.

She doesn’t know when she realized the hole was there. But she does know when she acknowledged it. 

Twenty years. She spent twenty years in prison. Alone, with nothing but glowing red lights and stares from her fellow inmates to keep her company.

Alone, with no choice but to face the gouged-out part of her soul and the newfound knowledge of why it was gone.

And now she’s faced it. She’s thought about it. The problem of the hole and her memories and what to do about them has occupied every part of her mind for years now. 

She has the watch. She could open it.

It’s better not to know, she’s decided. Better to ignore the emptiness, better to paper it over with layers and layers of silly outfits and old friends and new worlds. She doesn’t need a fob watch to tell her who she is, after all. 

She’s the Doctor.

(Yaz knows the Doctor. Not the details, sure, but everything that matters. She knows the Doctor’s bouncy kindness. The Doctor’s cold rage. The Doctor’s sweet goofy smile. She knows the way the Doctor stands at the TARDIS console, staring up at the central crystal, her hand resting on smooth chrome. The way the Doctor’s coat flaps behind her when she runs, and the grin on her face when she reaches out a hand to Yaz. Even the way she shuts down the second Yaz asks her a personal question.

It might be nice, though, Yaz thinks sometimes, to know where the Doctor comes from, or why it is she’s running.)

She’s been keeping her friends at arm’s length. It’s not fair, really: she knows it’s not fair. It’s not fair to them, and, if she’s being really honest, deep down, she knows it’s not fair to her either. And it’s selfish: it’s selfish, to be so scared of what love will do to you that you deny it to another.

She’s been thinking about this a lot, since Dan talked to her about Yaz. He keeps giving her sidelong glances and knowing looks, and it’s created an itch under her skin, a discomfort. She feels like an oyster with sand lodged in her shell, except she doesn’t have the biological mechanisms to make a pearl. 

She’s thinking about it even more now, in the teetering aftermath of her conversation with Yaz on the beach. She’s ruined something, she’s pretty sure. She didn’t want to. She didn’t mean to. She just—

She was scared. 

She still is.

The itch is growing. Everything feels wrong. Her friendship with Yaz— can it still be considered friendship? —is all wrong, tilted on its axis and stuck on an indescribably ambiguous ledge. She’s all wrong, with her memories carved out and her emotions stuck in hyperdrive. 

Dan and Yaz aren’t wrong. But Dan keeps using his lack-of-wrongness to prod her into getting closer to Yaz, and Yaz— well. Yaz is so beautifully right, and isn’t that the problem?

(The problem, Yaz thinks sometimes, is that she’s all wrong for the Doctor. The Doctor is old, and inhuman, and distant, and powerful, and Yaz is painfully in love with her, as if the Doctor had any interest in a human.

Although, the voice in the back of Yaz’s head always tells her, if the Doctor didn’t have any interest, she wouldn’t have taken Yaz with her, wouldn’t have been so excited to keep traveling with her even after Ryan and Graham left, wouldn’t have left Yaz with that hologram, and especially wouldn’t have said, It’d be with you. 

Still. Maybe if she’d been someone else, someone better, someone who would live longer or who could do more or who wasn’t so human, maybe then she would be right for the Doctor. Maybe she would be worth the pain.)

She’s wandering the halls of the TARDIS. She doesn’t know what she’s looking for. Nothing, really, or maybe everything, or maybe just a moment of respite from the thoughts and feelings pinging around her head and crawling under her skin. 

Whatever she’s looking for, she’s not finding it.

She can feel the TARDIS in her mind, nudging her in one direction or the other, and she resists, turning right when the TARDIS wants her to go left, retracing her steps when the TARDIS is urging her forward. The TARDIS is her oldest friend, the one she could never live without, and if the Doctor’s being honest, the TARDIS is probably leading her somewhere she really should go. But… well. Everything’s piling up on her, and it’s making her disagreeable. Irritable, even. She does not want anyone, not even her beloved ship, telling her where to go. She sends annoyed thoughts in the TARDIS’s direction, glaring at its walls. 

It’s impossible to say how long this goes on. After all, both the TARDIS and the Doctor are above denoting linear time. The Doctor just wanders, sidestepping the TARDIS’s will, stewing in her discomfort and annoyance and uncertainty. 

And then, eventually or maybe immediately, she walks past a door and feels a strong TARDIS-sent urge to keep walking. She goes through the door, of course, only to realize she’s been tricked. 

It’s Yaz’s room. 

Yaz is sitting on the bed, staring at the Doctor. Glossy tear tracks run down her cheeks, and the Doctor’s heart sinks even further to think of herself as their source. 

“Yaz?” Her voice breaks on the name, falls to the floor and shatters. 

Yaz lifts herself off the bed, standing a few feet away, looking at the Doctor warily. She’s wearing her old favorite pajama bottoms, the purple checks on flannel, and her hair is down, distraught, and she just looks so beautifully, immutably human. 

“Doctor?” she croaks.

The Doctor stumbles forward and pulls Yaz into a hug, falling into her. It’s only the second time they’ve hugged, really properly hugged instead of pulled each other out of danger or used their bodies as shields for one another. Even so, Doctor knows Yaz, despite her attempts at keeping her distance: she knows Yaz’s body, the soft curve of her waist, her arms’ stable strength. But there’s still something unexpected about a hug: the Doctor isn’t used to the sensation of a warm body pressed against hers, or the comfort that comes with it. She doesn’t much like touch, from most people. 

Yaz is very much not most people. 

She tightens her arms around Yaz, draping her head over Yaz’s shoulder. There’s a moment where Yaz flails, her body stiff; the Doctor feels it when she relaxes, her arms circling the Doctor’s waist, hands resting on her back. 

(Yaz doesn’t know what’s happening. The Doctor’s there, in her room, hugging her, and after the day they’ve had— Yaz’s mind is racing trying to interpret the situation. Until something in her breaks: she’s had altogether too many complicated emotions and experiences in the last couple of days. She just can’t sustain the confusion or the heartbreak or any of the rest of it. 

So she lets herself fall into the Doctor’s arms, all her conflicting and complicated emotions settling into just one.

Hope.)

This is the moment the Doctor realizes she’s gone. Fully and truly. There’s no hope for her. She can’t even bring herself to care about getting hurt later. 

She needs this now.

“I’m sorry,” she says into Yaz’s shoulder. 

“You should be,” Yaz says, but her tone is light. Her arms tighten around the Doctor, and suddenly, the Doctor feels a hand in her hair, pressing her closer to Yaz’s shoulder. She sighs.

“Maybe we should talk,” she mumbles, her voice muffled.

Yaz pulls back at that, looking the Doctor in the eye with her eyebrows raised, and the Doctor knows what she’s going to say before she does.

“I’ve been telling you that for ages.”

The Doctor manages half a laugh. “Suppose you were right, then.”

Yaz shakes her head. “Can’t believe it took all this for you to see that.” She takes the Doctor’s hand and pulls her over to the bed. She sits down, cross-legged, on top of the blanket, and the Doctor does the same, facing Yaz, forcing herself to make eye contact.

For a long moment, there’s silence, and it feels like nothing else exists in the universe: it’s just the Doctor and Yaz and this room, waiting to see what happens next.

“What’s going on, Doctor?” Yaz asks, and the Doctor can see the hope in her eyes— again. This is her second chance.

She can’t blow it.

“I—” 

But she can’t say it, either. 

“I don’t have my memories,” she says. “I mean— I do. I’ve got loads of memories. Too many, maybe. But I’ve got this— this big gap. I didn’t even know about it, until recently. I’ve been looking to fill it.”

“What do you mean?” Yaz’s words hang there, in the middle of the room, waiting for the Doctor to pick them up.

And she will. She does.

“Remember Gallifrey?” she asks, her voice heavy. “With the Master, and the Cybermen?”

Yaz nods. “Hard to forget.”

“Yeah.” The Doctor sighs. “The Master showed me new information about my childhood. It was—” She takes a breath, the air pushing itself shaky and uneven through her throat. “I don’t know where I came from, Yaz. Or who I am, or— or anything.”

“‘Course you know who you are,” Yaz says, not skipping a beat. “You’re the Doctor.” 

The Doctor opens her mouth, four hundred different replies at the tip of her tongue, ready to be volleyed at Yaz, but Yaz doesn’t give her the chance.

“That won’t change when you find out your past,” she says. “Remember when we found out my nan had a husband before my grandad? I didn’t change after that, did I?”

“That’s different,” the Doctor mumbles. 

“I know,” Yaz says quietly, and when the Doctor finally has the courage to look her in the eyes again, she sees sadness there. “I’m just a human. And finding something out about my nan is nothing like you finding something out about your childhood.” She barrels on, not giving the Doctor even a moment to slip in her protests. “But I sort of think the same idea applies. There’s stuff in your past you can’t remember, but there’s years and years of stuff you can remember. If you learn about your past, you’ll still be the same person who did all that. You’ll just have more information.”

The Doctor looks down at her lap. “Suppose you’re right,” she mumbles. “It just sort of feels like all the stuff I can remember is built up around this giant hole.”

“And if the hole gets filled in,” Yaz replies, “all that stuff is still there, isn’t it?” She reaches out, brushing her hand against one of the Doctor’s. A thin flame burns under the Doctor’s skin, searing and steady. “You’re still the Doctor.”

“Yeah.” The Doctor takes a deep breath, trying to pull Yaz’s words inside of her, trying to make them something she can believe. “There’s more. I should probably tell you.”

“When you’re ready,” Yaz says. There’s a steadiness to her voice that the Doctor hadn’t known she’d been needing for years. It holds her, supports her.

The Doctor flips her hand and intertwines her fingers with Yaz’s, letting the flame travel throughout her hand, up her arm, into her stomach. It’s horrible, to feel this much happiness all at once: it’s an omen of sadness to come. But… well. The Doctor is too tired to care.

“Thank you.” The words spill out with her breath, barely there. “You’ve put up with a lot from me.”

Yaz squeezes her hand. “I care about you, Doctor.”

TheDoctor doesn’t say any of the things that come to mind— she doesn’t say You shouldn’t or Why? or It’s just going to get you killed. She just lets her hand sit in Yaz’s, lets Yaz’s eyes search hers, and then she says, “I care about you too.” It feels like a much bigger statement than it is. 

For a long moment, thick silence hangs between them. Until finally Yaz says, “Come here, Doctor,” and pulls the Doctor towards her. Leaning in so close the Doctor can smell the sweetness of her breath, she slides the Doctor’s coat off her shoulders, peeling the sleeves down the Doctor’s arms, folding it over her own arm and setting it gently, carefully, on the nightstand. She lifts the covers and gestures for the Doctor to slide under them, and the Doctor does, letting the sheet settle on her skin. Yaz does the same: her cold feet tangle with the Doctor’s under the blankets, and they both laugh. 

“This all right?” Yaz asks, smiling nervously.

“It’s brilliant,” the Doctor murmurs. She gives Yaz a flash of a grin. “You’re not, by the way.”

“Not what?” Yaz asks.

“Just human.” The Doctor moves a little closer, her eyes completely caught in Yaz’s. “No one’s ever just human, are they? Humans are brilliant. And you, specifically, are—” Her breath catches. There’s no way to put to words everything Yaz is to her. “You’re amazing,” she whispers, watching Yaz’s smile grow. 

“Really?” Yaz asks. She chews at the inside of her bottom lip— something the Doctor can see, she realizes, because of how close they are to each other. “I don’t always feel amazing.”

“You are,” the Doctor promises. “You’re everything, Yaz. I’m surprised you don’t realize that.”

(Yaz has spent years, now, trying not to get too close to the Doctor, trying not to let their hands touch, trying especially not to let herself think about what the Doctor’s lips would feel like on hers. 

But now, she stops trying.

When she kisses the Doctor, when she pushes her head forward and lets their lips touch, it’s like something’s exploding within her. Something new but old, something familiar but strange. 

She loves every second.)

The Doctor still has that hole inside her. She’s still not ready to open the watch and see what fills it up. Everything's not okay, and it probably never will be. She'll have to come to terms with that eventually.

But… she is still the Doctor. That hasn’t changed.

And she still has Yaz. She didn’t ruin everything after all.

She lies with Yaz in her arms, Yaz’s body pressed against her chest, and finally, she feels just a little bit lucky. 

[thasmin13]

Here's the 3rd chapter of my fanfic, sorry it took so long to finish writing, but better late than never, right?

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"Huh, I haven't done that in a while." The Doctor claimed after she and Yaz had got their breath back. They lay back on the picnic blanket, Yaz's head resting on The Doctor's chest, the blonde playing with the human's brunette hair.

"That was the first time I have properly kissed someone, I mean, I had a crush on Danny Biswas when I was 13 and kissed him once but we could never have been a couple, he was too much of a jerk. Like most humans. Like most men." Yaz scoffed.

The Doctor continued to wrap the brunette's hair round her fingers. "Oi, I used to be a man!" She exclaimed.

Yaz smiled. A question that had been burning in the back of her mind ever since she met the timelord suddenly started to quickly crawl quickly up her throat. "How does that work, how were you a man, then a woman?"

"Do you remember I told you that I could regenerate?" Yaz nodded, listening closely. "Well, when a timelord regenerates, every cell in their body...changes. Reshapes, reforms, it changes in every way possible. Everything; including the timelord's gender, appearance, personality, everything. Even the accent. Before, I regenerated into this form, I was a grumpy scottish man."

Yaz laughed, "Really?!" She sat up, looking at the blonde short haired woman, trying and failing to picture a scottish man in replace of the blonde lying beside her. "Oh yeah, and now I'm the complete opposite; a woman with a huddersfield accent." The Doctor sighed. Yaz lay back down on the blonde's chest.

"I don't know, I think it's sexy..." Yaz tilted her head to look up at the blonde "...and quiet cute." Yaz smirked earning a light chuckle from the blonde's chest beneath her. "What do you mean "quiet" I think you mean "very cute"." The Doctor put on a tone as if she was a teacher correcting a student. She was so needy, it was so stupid and cute and perfect.

The Doctor smiled and reached her hand down so it was hoovering over the human's brown one. Yaz looked at it and smiled, holding on to it, never wanting to let go. Right there in that moment, holding her girlfriend's hand, her and The Docor's feelings finally free, Yasmin Khan thanked the stars and whoever was in charge up there. Maybe, if the stars where in the right place, and if it was in a good mood, the universe could be kind. She thought as she stared out at the starry red sky; this planet sure was beautiful. She lay there wondering how many other lucky couples had got to enjoy such a rare miracle.

And the rare miracle that Yaz had just been admiring had started to darken. Like dramatically darken. The redness of the sky above them had suddenly gotten several shades darken in seconds. Yaz sat up, letting go of The Doctor's hand, tilting her head back, inspecting the view, trying to work out if she had been imagaing it or not.

She turned back to The Doctor who had the same worried expression on her face as the human did. "I'm not imaging it, am I?" Yaz questioned quietly as she watched the blonde, hearing her brain tick away while it worked through all of the possible causes of the strange event.

"No." She replied soon after. "No, I don't think you are." She sat up matching the brunette.

Yaz watched The Doctor expectantly, waiting for an explanation to what was happening.

"Well, what are you thinking?" She rolled her eyes seeing that The Doctor had just ignored her and went back to watching the changing sky.

She then answered afew monets later, turning her body around so it faced Yaz, a playful smile on her face. "Well, I was thinking, we could see what is happening, I could use the sonic to scan the area for any potenial threats, or..." She moved her hand so it was playing with Yaz's." "We could stay here and make out, you know, we could just..."

Yaz smiled, finishing her sentence for her, "Ignore it." The Doctor smiled at her looking hopeful for a moment. Yaz hit her arm lightly. "Seriously, you're The Doctor, your job is to go arouind saving people and solving mysteries, like skies that suddenly change colour..." She tapper her on the nose, "It is not to flirt and make out with random humans!"

"It could be." The Doctor replied casually. Yaz laughed at the mischievious smile on her face. "But you're not a normal human, are you? You're amazing, smart, beautiful and I am so lucky to have met you. And might I just say, I love flirting and making out with you." The Doctor smiled, tapping Yaz on the nose just as the human had done to her. The Doctor looking directly into the brunette's dark brown eyes. Yaz could feel her cheeks blush as she smiled back gently, leaned in and kissed the alien again softly.

When they pulled apart, The Doctor looked at the human, her face softening into her usual goofy smile. "OK, OK, I know, we probably should go check it out." She admitted standing up.

She held her hand out for Yaz. It was just like that time on the ship when she had asked Yaz to come with her. At that time, her and Yaz had both went into the danger together, and this time was the exact same, bar the convienent absence of sea devils.

Yaz smiled and took her hand gratefully, letting The Doctor take her weight for afew seconds. She seen The Doctor's t-shirt, staring particularly at the rainbow, wondering if it had been a complete coincidence that The Doctor had chosen the rainbow t-shirt, afew years later dating a girl.

The Doctor tightened her grip on Yaz's hand as they stood up, both looking around at the scenery, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. For the first few minutes, it was fine, nothing else out of the ordinary happened.

The timelord took her sonic out and pointed the device in diiferent directions as it buzzed loudly. She took a good 5 minutes, walking off in a random direction for afew seconds, then repeating the action walking off in a different direction until she stopped, her eyesbrows frowned, the sonic held up to her face.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" The human beside her quizzed curiously. "No, nothing, but it's picking up small stray traces of a mix of atron and vortex energy."

Yaz looked at the blonde, hoping it was nothing to worry about. "From the TARDIS." She checked, keeping her voice calm. "No, it shouldn't be, I cloaked it's signal so no one could track us while we were here."

Great. Yaz took a deep breath, she wasn't going to panic, her police training and the time she had spent with The Doctor had taught her well. She stepped over to The Doctor. "So...not ours then?"

The Doctor breathed beside her. "Nope." They both were looking straight out, waiting for something to jump out, something to happen. "So, someone else was here, or is here, possibily one with a TARDIS?" She asked slowly like is was no big deal.

The Doctor gulped from beside her. "Yeah?" She replied, her voice higher than usual. Yaz turned her head to look at her. "Well..." The Doctor turned to face her, her eyes wide in wonder. "Guess we better check out what it is, huh?" Yaz smiled, the exact smile that only Yasmin Khan was capable of, the one that restored faith in a person, in an alien. The one that brought confident out of the shyest of people. The one that could brighten up anyone's day.

That's why The Doctor loved Yaz, because of the incredible person she was to eveyone she crossed paths with. She was perfect in every way, from her appearance to her enthuasm and positive attitude. The Doctor knew that she had been so lucky to meet the human, from her thousands of years of experience, she had learnt that there aren't enough Yaz's on Earth, even in the whole universe.

She had planned to tell Yaz all of this, why she loved her and what she thought of the human, and she had recently realised that Yaz must be confused becasue from their lasy conversation, The Doctor had said that they couldn't be together because of how "she knew sooner or later it'll hurt." Then afew hours later kissed her.

She atleast deserved to hear why she said what she said and how she wasn't scared anymore.

But, now was not the time, The Doctor could feel in her gut that something was wrong, either with the planet or on the planet and she was determined to find out what. The universe seemed to hear her thoughts because the planet started to shake violently.

Yaz and The Doctor gasped as the blades of grass shook beneath them. "Doctor...?" Yaz said, now acknowling the fact that something was definetly wrong. The Doctor remianed quiet, like she was waiting to hear something to prove her suspicions right.

And, as if on cue, the planet roared, louder than anything Yaz had ever heard. The Doctor grabbed Yaz by the arm, tugging her away from the dreadfull cry. "That bad?" Yaz shouted over the noise, the two of them now running full speed in the direction of the blue box.

They should've reached it by now, The Doctor thought, as her and Yaz ran, her hearts racing, slowly getting more and more worried that this situation they were currnently in the middle of was way more serious than some colour changing sky.

"We need to get out of here now!" She yelled deseperately. She heard Yaz gasp behind her, indicating that she had just realised the same thing about the dissaperence of the TARDIS. "Oh no." She gasped as she forced her legs to keep running, she had to keep up with the blonde ahead of her. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, her lungs screamed in protest. But she had to keep going.

Then it stopped. The roaring, the shaking, all of it. It just stopped. The Doctor slowed down and stopped, looking around, Yaz copying her. "Ah...." Yaz started, confussed. "I don't know." The Doctor replied, already sonicing the area. She shoke her head afew moments later. "There's still traces of atron and vortex energy. What ever happened..."

"...is still happening." Yaz finished her sentence for her, turning on the spot slowly, taking in everything, looking for something out of the ordinary, something that shouldn't be there. She squinted her eyes, and for a moment she thought she saw something afew meters away, it looked like bright green lights swirling around in a circle, just above the ground. Like the start of a tornado. But it dissapeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Ah, Doctor?" She asked, again forcing herself to remain calm.

Before the blonde, who was examining a piece of grass she had picked from the ground, could reply, the ground started to shake violently, an earth quake making the two of them lose balance and fall over.

But instead of them hitting the fresh, bright green grass that had been covering the planet when they arrived, they landed on a rough, scorched surface. The Doctor coughed as she inhaled the dust from the burnt ground, it tickling her throat.

When the vigorous shaking had stopped, the timelord looked around and gasped at the change of the scenery. "What?" Yaz questioned as she and The Doctor got up off of the ground. Taking out her sonic, The Doctor scanned the area.

"It's still the same planet, the sonics picking up the same amount of atron and vortex energy as before." She sighed, putting her sonic away, a concentrated frown on her face.

Yaz turned and looked around them. It was all the same burnt layout. The sky above that used to be a rainbow of changing colours was now a dark, stark sight. The whole planet just felt...dead. It felt and looked they gone back in time, or amybe even forward, to a time of a war that had took place here, a war of flame and fire, death and destruction.

The brunette returned her gaze back to The Doctor, whose eyes were darting about the place, taking it all in, her eys searching, scanning the view for clues and answers. She looked back at Yaz who had been watching her, "Somethings very wrong here, Yaz. I just don't know what." She sighed dissively and ran her hand through her hand.

"We need to get off this planet." She said, her sonic making another appearance. She smiled as she continued scanning, "So much for our date, huh?" Yaz grinned back at her, but couldn't help but still feel neverous; nervous, no, anxious, that something was going to happen, that something, or someone was gonna jump out and they'd be forced into another adventure. Why couldn't they just have a normal date? But of course, how could she expect such a thing, she knew that life with The Doctor was never going to be that easy, that fair, but she was OK with that, as long as she was with The Doctor, it would be okay.

Yaz continued to stare at the alien, who was bitting her tongue in concentration, her eyes brows frowned, her eyes slighly squinted, on the hunt for detail. Yaz may or may not have found it attractive or cute or anything like that. Nope, don't know what you're talking about.

The both of them, however, quickly got snapped out of what they were doing at the sound of a loud bang behind them. That's when they both looked at eachother, exchanging looks of worry and curiosity. And as if on cue, the both of them, perfectly in sync, spun around at the same time, their faces set, not knowing what to expect but the both of them feeling ready for anything.

And surely enough, what they saw next was the thing that the both of them had expected the very least out of everything that could've appeared out of thin air right behind them.

[pitynostars]

what are the main reasons the chibnall era doesn’t work for you? (not a hater btw, just curious)

Hi anon 🥰 to be honest, I’m still trying to pinpoint it all myself ! While I was thinking about this and writing it out I’ve realised it mainly boils down to:

I think a lot of the writing is boring and inconsistent, from characters to big arcs to individual episodes.

Too many important character/relationship moments happening offscreen, or just told to us rather than shown to us.

So much wasted potential (I think this is the worst part for me because if it was just Bad I wouldn’t be so frustrated by it you know?) I feel like I’ve had more fun in the fandom reading people’s speculations and headcanons all era than watching the actual show itself

Sort of in line with that, rehashing of old ideas (+ not doing anything new/interesting with them).

I don’t know what it is specifically, whether it’s the writing, acting, or directing, editing, something else, but the whole era has such a patronising vibe to me? All the characters act like stereotypical primary school teachers at their most annoying and it drives me INSANE

So to elaborate:

The writing style of the era seems to be “drop something interesting and then forget about it until maybe we remember it and decide to do something with it” but the something they do with it is often boring as shit and I’m left after every episode/season with an overwhelming “... ok so what was the point of any of that?” feeling. From big things like the whole Timeless Child arc, to Ryan vlogging, to Yaz’s MH/queerness, Graham’s cancer, Dan’s “take the soup, will you?” moment, The Eternals in CYHM?, Ruth/Martin!Doctor etc. etc. 

I KNOW Chibnall can write nuanced plots, characters and relationships, but in his era of DW it just doesn’t work for me. Take the Timeless Child arc, beat for beat it’s just like name drop the Timeless Child in 11x02, monologue exposit about it in 12x10, don’t really deal with the fallout/emotional development the Doctor gets from it at all apart from one scene out of the blue in NY. Repeat through Flux (the watch is brought in to remind her it exists and she makes the exact same choice she does in TTC to Choose to be the Doctor, independent of whatever might have happened in her past). Her changing her mind about how she feels about it all in prison? Happens off screen. Her chasing after Karvanista so obsessively? Off screen. We’re just told afterward that she’s back to caring about it. 

Same with thasmin, there’s a couple of random comments in Arachnids, Villa etc until Flux, but then it skips over actually letting Yaz and the Doctor interact so it’s like ok like. Do they have a laugh together? Does the Doctor care for Yaz when she's scared/upset (seeing 13's interactions with Graham I'd say No. Also the only time I can remember we've seen Yaz upset and comforted is Spyfall and that's by Ryan). What’s in their dynamic that I’m supposed to be invested in, all we get from them 99% of the time is Yaz asking a question so the Doctor can exposit about it (which again ties back into my oh my god everyone feels like a patronising primary school teacher problem). Their dynamic in Flux is just the Doctor being a dick and Yaz taking it (with gooey eyes half the time lol). Then we get to second half of flux + the specials and honestly I don’t think one person pining for the other can be considered a whole relationship dynamic in itself (or again, if it can be, it’s… very boring lol).

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I feel like the characters are all pretty badly defined in general, but the characterisations we do get are boring or rehashes of previous characters. We know now Chibnall specifically wanted to bring on a woman to play the Doctor, but also wrote her as so passive (people point to episodes like Rosa and are like “well she couldn’t step in!! It would change history!!” okay who keeps writing her into these situations!! It’s okay to have those sorts of plots/resolutions as long as there’s some episodes where the Doctor has to make a choice and have a win), and when she’s NOT written super passive, she makes a crazy ass decision which doesn’t really add up at all with the rest of her character - e.g., taking the cyberium, blowing up the Master (and then letting Ko Sharmus do it), (ditto with the Sea Devils and Ji Hun). 

Which then goes with the fact she’s written with her morals all over the place (the spider in Arachnids, to being an absolute ARSE to Yaz in Flux to abandoning Dan in LotSD but she’s still got this damn high horse about using violence (except when its HER bombing people (: uwu) – I know this hypocrisy is present in other Doctor’s too but it’s exactly why I find Ten so annoying, like why repeat this for her !!!! At least with Ten we got Waters of Mars!!!!!!!!!! 12’s dying wish was for them as the Doctor to continue to be KIND but 13 falls immediately back into 10’s self centred arsehole persona of ESPECIALLY being an arsehole to your friends which I just hate watching. 

Another point I find frustrating about 13 is literally why cast a woman if you’re not going to do a gender identity arc. Like perfect opportunity, Yaz or Ryan or Graham could have been trans if you didn’t want to give the Doctor that arc specifically because they’re an alien yada yada but why do it. The only thing that’s done with it is have her be confused (even tho the Doctor’s been interacting with humans for literally centuries and knows how gender works for us), and make patronising “I’ve had an upgrade” “life’s so hard for women back then” jokes. I’m tearing my hair out.  For so long in the beginning of her era I was just screaming at the TV for the writing to let her do something ANYTHING that let her show an emotion other than like. Preppy/patronising highschool teacher. When she’s actually allowed to expression emotion, it’s usually just so many scenes that make her look stupid/silly (I’m thinking of the scene in Spyfall when she’s like “snap!! … is that not what we’re playing?” there’s a difference between making her funny and weird and alien and just making her into a clown), which works when balanced with darker/more serious/more calculating moments but we don’t really get to see a lot of that from her, and when we do it’s usually quite isolated from the rest of the characters, so doesn’t really feel like it’s got an actual impact.  

Of the (assumedly) complete character arcs we’ve got they’re both quite boring in my opinion. Obviously not every companion has to Become God and Fall For Their Hubris but like. “Guy decides he’d rather stay home actually” and “other guy decides he wants to stay with him too actually” is just sooo boring. Their arcs are literally just like they go along for the ride, get tired of it and go home. Revolutionary. As I said before, 13’s is just the realisation her past doesn’t define her (on LOOP) with a dash of Ten’s arrogance/hypocrisy thrown in (which like… he’s my least fave Doctor of the ones I’ve seen!!! I don’t want a rehash of his era!!! Even if it was written well!!!).

RE: Yaz, she was introduced like “can’t you give me something that’ll challenge me?” and to be honest I don’t think we’ve really seen her challenged yet. I feel like they’ve tried to do a rehash of Clara’s becoming the Doctor arc in Flux, but the whole reason Clara’s arc hit is because we saw 1. WHY it came about (losing Danny and everything else through s8), and 2. THE FALLOUT, of both HER going too far and the Doctor’s grief. With Yaz, they just brought it up and have done nothing with it. She got so little characterisation through s11/12 and then when she finally gets Something they do nothing with it AND it’s more about someone else and her feelings for them than it’s about HER. 

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I think the relationships in the show also suffer due to the messy/lack of characterisation. None of (either of) the main team have any tension or disagreement apart from Ryan & Graham’s will they won’t they grandparent/son dynamic and Yaz/13’s communication problems in Flux. I also just genuinely don’t think Thirteen cares much for any of her companions. Obviously most recently abandoning Dan in the past, but also take the example from Spyfall: the Doctor wasn’t worried about Yaz, Graham & Ryan when she was stuck in the past, and we know she hadn’t already hatched the plane save so. She thought they were dead? She assumed they’d found a way out? There was no thought of ‘oh my friends were on a crashing plane, I should get back and check they got out okay’, she goes straight back in to stopping the Master, and it comes across as it’s only when they bring up the plane by asking how she did it that she realises they actually managed to escape? If she doesn’t care why should the audience? They’re all just along for the ride and it’s so goddamn boring.

They had such a good opportunity with Yaz & 13 in the beginning – Yaz is introduced as a kind of bored police officer with something to prove, it would have been so interesting for them to grapple with a bit of a power struggle in the beginning as Yaz tries to assume the Authority position and the Doctor grapples with whether she wants to be like “my ship my rules” vibe or to sit back and let Yaz go ham. Instead they just sort of. Are in scenes together I guess.  

Like, even Ryan & Graham’s relationship, which is one of my favourite parts of the era feels quite forced and formulaic, like they’ve sat down and said “right, in this episode we need a Ryan & Graham scene where he refuses to call him granddad, so later it’s satisfying when he does” rather than letting the characters naturally grow closer/develop. This sort of shorthand character/relationship building is so present through the era too, the whole speech Graham gives about Yaz being the best person he’s ever met: “You said to the Doc that you thought she was the best person you'd ever met. But you know what, Yaz? I think you are. You ain't got a time machine or a sonic... but you're never afraid and you're never beaten. I'm going to sound like a... like a proper old man, but you're doing your family proud, Yaz, you really are. In fact, you're doing the whole human race proud.” is really sweet and nice and I do enjoy their dynamic sometimes I just don’t understand where his POV of Yaz is from because the scripts up to this point haven’t really given Yaz the opportunity to be any of those things (unafraid, unbeaten etc). I’d say maybe in the year where the Doctor’s in prison/Flux but 1. that hasn’t happened yet when he gives that speech and 2. that was all off screen?  

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Which leads me on to my next point, which is, why DOES so much important/interesting character stuff happen off screen?? The Doctor’s time alone in prison and the fam’s reactions to it, Yaz & Dan’s 3 years in the past, Yaz growing/realising her feelings for the Doctor, all happen mainly off screen, the Doctor obsessively hunting down Karvanista at the beginning of Flux. I’ve seen people speculating that Yaz & Doctor had the conversation about the Master & the Timeless Child and all the Flux shenanigans sometimes between EotD and LotSD, and that was their MAIN tension all through last series but I wouldn’t even be SURPRISED if it happened off screen at this point. 

I’m still so frustrated there’s no timeline given for when this Dhawan!Master is at. We are left to assume he’s post Missy, but there’s no mention/interrogation of her arc whatsoever. Any development he had to get him back to his “”evil schemes”” is, again, left off screen. It just feels like such a disservice to Gomez and her Master and the arc she had with 12 to not even MENTION it. Just a mention from 13 of like “oh I thought they’d changed…” to Ryan/Yaz/Graham. ANYTHING. I thought the Master coming back was gonna be the trigger for 13 to finally snap because she’s finally got someone to bounce off of and then she gets him taken off by Nazis (I don’t think the point of like. Why that is so awful needs relabouring lol). 

Ruth/Martin!Doctor could have been so interesting to dive into (holding out for that spin off 🤞) but instead she gets forgotten until like Once Upon Time which mainly overwrites her with Thirteen and then she’s forgotten about again.

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It’s also really annoying in my opinion how the era does so much lipservice to being progressive, especially more so than before, when for 3 seasons the only queer characters were introduced and killed like 2 minutes apart, and Ryan and Yaz were constantly sidelined for Graham’s development, sometimes it even feeling like the Doctor was also playing second fiddle to him, and Grace was introduced only to be fridged (and then like. AGAIN in ITYA) for Graham's (and to a lesser extent Ryan's) development, which they don't even really do anything with except for a few Grief scenes. You'd think a guy his age who's just watched his wife die and who's had longterm health issues might look at his grandson wanting to hop off into danger and have more to say than "yeah guess I'll come along too".

A lot of times it feels like they only bring up things like race, sexuality, gender, disabilities etc as a Theme of the Week rather than being part of these characters/worlds (e.g., Yaz’s MH is only really present in CYHM, Ryan’s dyspraxia gets forgotten about all the time and is written super inconsistently, Rosa and DotP have Ryan and Yaz discussing racism but then in the Witchfinders it’s not a problem (because that’s The Sexism(™) episode). They have episodes like Orphan 55 and Praxeus with the same span they have FUCKING Kerblam!.

I’ve already talked about how disappointing I feel the era is at handling the Doctor being played by a woman, but it also bugs me RE Yaz being queer, is that we have no idea how that impacts literally anything about her or her character (I know it’s a last minute addition so maybe felt like they didn’t have time), we don’t know how she came to the realisation or how she feels about it, how she feels about Dan essentially outing her, whether the bullying/MH they touched on are affected by it. It’s just like ok Yaz is queer! Onto the next bulletpoint for the ep. There’s no depth given to it at all. They randomly drop Yaz is a muslim at one point but again we have no idea what her relationship with that is at ALL?

And obviously having representation for representation's sake can be fine, your whole personality isn’t your identity, but when it’s so often the case that it’s not addressed at all outside of establishing it, it feels so lazy, like they want the kudos for having a diverse cast without having to do any consistent legwork with it.

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Ultimately I think for me this whole era just feels like “oh this idea is cool, hope this pays off later” then being bored/irritated then being like “... was that it?”. It feels like it’s lacking a lot of heart, it all just feels so weak and dull and lifeless and misses every opportunity to do something interesting with the good ideas it DOES have ?? Or what they DO do is just rehashing old stuff, but not as well (Clara/Yaz WWTDD arc, 13’s 10-like traits) or completely ignoring what came before (the memory wipes after what 12 learned with Bill/Clara, Missy/the Master’s development). Even episodes I really liked like FoTJ just don’t work as well on rewatch because you know they’re not going anywhere interesting. 

Sorry if I’ve repeated myself anywhere, been scrapping my thoughts together when I had a couple minutes free but I tried to proof it best I could!