humanized tardis

Bill Potts Appreciation Post

Bill Potts:
. Gives free chips to cute girls.
. Attends university lectures even though she isn’t a student.
. Makes Netflix references.
. Would 100% survive a horror movie. 
. Genuinely believed that the sky was made of lemon drops.
. Asked the real question about the TARDIS.
. Was fine with going somewhere with a cute girl she didn’t know.
. Did not Fuck About when she saw something strange in her drain.
. Ran to the Doctor because she thought he’d know what to do.
. Was completely ready for a “sci-fi” explanation.
. (Correctly) Thought that the Doctor wasn’t human.
. Thought that the TARDIS was a knock through/lift.
. Thought that the Doctor could save Heather.
. Knew he was going to try to wipe her memory.
. Thought that the TARDIS was a time machine before she knew it was.
. Compared the TARDIS to a modern kitchen.
. Did not hesitate to run off with an alien in his spaceship/time machine.
. Tried to convince Heather of how beautiful her “defect” was.
. Told a possible home intruder to make themselves decent.
. Armed herself with an umbrella.
. Went with everything that was happening.
. Won’t be forced into any relationship/innuendos moments with the Doctor.
. Is a beautiful human being who deserves happiness and unicorns. 

My dad just broke his phone and somehow thought that it's way more important for him to have a good phone than me, so he's taking my phone until he gets his old one fixed.

I’m not sure he realized what he’ll have to live with for the next few days.

This is what my phone looks like:

(i know, gorgeous, right?)

this is what my wallpaper looks like:

My home screen wallpaper:

Also my ringtone is the Doctor Who soundtrack and my notification/text message alert tone thingy is David Tennant saying “bingle bongle dingle dangle yikkedy doo yikkedy da ping pong lippy tappy too ta” (like in the deleted scene from s03e08 “Human Nature” *click*)

Some people might call this being an annoying kid. I’d call this providing some motivation for him to give me back my phone asap :)

anonymous asked:

I usually don't like crossovers but idk imagine Alex finding a fob watch somewhere, it sort of calling to her, she opens it and suddenly hundreds of years worth of memorys come flooding into her mind, she's The Doctor

She promised Maggie that she’ll always love her.

She promised, she promised, she promised.

She promised, and she held on for her.

She promised, but god, that fob watch? That damn watch that’s always there, but that she never notices, not really, not really?

She’s noticing it now.

She’s noticing it, and she knows – somehow – that it has the power to make her break her promise.

Because there are whispers coming from it.

Whispers, and sometimes, screams.

She’s never opened it – why would she, it’s just an old fob watch, it’s broken, it’s not… – she’s never opened it, but it’s pulling her, now. It’s calling her, now.

And for some reason, its calls feel like her dreams.

Her dreams of space ships and pepper pot killing machines and supernovae with her ship at the center, and running. Lots and lots of running.

Always with the running.

Maggie’s never in her dreams.

Kara is, sometimes. Kara is, and she thinks that sometimes, Kara knows.

That Kara knows about the watch.

She brings it to her one night, and Kara begs her. Begs her to forget it, begs her to put it away. Keep it safe, keep it close, but Alex, please, you’re my sister, I love you, you have to trust me: keep it closed.

And she does trust her – she trusts her more than anything – but the watch scares her.

And she hasn’t ever run from things that scared her.

If her dreams are any indication, she’s the kind of person who runs toward things that scare her.

Not that her dreams are real. Of course they’re not.

But there’s a certain feeling.

A temptation. Another reality.

“Tell me why, then,” she asks her teary eyed sister, her voice soft, half-hoping Kara will comply easily. Half-hoping Kara will refuse her.

Kara groans and she takes off her glasses and she paces – something she’s picked up from Maggie – and she sits back down and pulls Alex’s hands into her lap.

“Alex, we haven’t always… we haven’t always lived this life. But this life? This life is keeping you safe. This life is keeping you alive. And I need you alive, Alex, okay? I need my sister.”

“And I need you, Kara, but you… what the hell do you mean, we haven’t always lived this life? And this life? Keeping me safe? Kara, I’m a DEO agent, my life is on the line all the time, and so is yours, I don’t – ”

“Alex, I just need you to trust me, okay?”

“I do trust you, Kara. I do. But I need to know.”

Her eyes are desperate and her eyes are burning. Her eyes are determined and her eyes are decisive.

And Kara loves her sister. Loves her so much she can’t lose her.

Loves her so much she can’t let her keep living a lie. Even if Alex herself had made her promise to prevent her from opening the watch until it was safe.

Because she has to love Alex enough to trust her. Trust that they’re strong together. That they can keep each other safe. Together.

So she explains – she explains for an entire night, and Alex chugs bourbon and Alex paces and sometimes, Alex cries.

She texts Maggie before she opens it.

Before she lets her Time Lord DNA resurface, before she lets her memories flood back into her body, into her heart, into her mind.

She texts her and she asks her to come over, because if she’s going to keep the universe safe – the universe, the multiverse, all of time, not just the earth anymore – she needs to give Maggie a chance to be with her. Needs to give her a chance to love her anyway.

Or to leave her, instead of being left behind.

She’s convinced Maggie won’t come with her.

Convinced that this will be goodbye.

Kara waits in the other room on standby, in case it is. In case her sister will need her to pick up the pieces.

But Maggie just listens, and Maggie just chuckles.

“Figures that even when I think I’ve fallen for a human, I actually fell for an alien.”

Alex forces out a short laugh, but her ears are roaring with the silence between Maggie’s words, in the moment before Maggie takes her hands and kisses each of her knuckles.

“Ride or die, right Danv – Doctor?” she whispers, but she’s terrified, because how could someone that powerful still want her? Still love her?

She’ll ride with her if Alex still wants her to.

And she might just die if she doesn’t.

Kara holds her hand while she pops open the watch, and Maggie keeps a trembling hand on the small of her back.

Alex falls to one knee and bows her head, eyes squeezed shut, as her life, her thousands of years, pour back into her soul.

She keeps her hand steady in her sister’s, and then she reaches out for Maggie.

Reaches for her, and pulls her into the deepest kiss they’ve ever shared.

“Come with me?” she whispers, because Time Lord or human, TARDIS or DEO, she will never not love this woman.

“Ride or die, Doctor,” Maggie whispers back against her lips, soft and awed and in love, in love, in love.

Here is a drawing I have made of how I think human Impala and T.A.R.D.I.S (aka “Baby” and “Sexy”) could look like :)

lizziea2  asked:

Ignore that last ask! I just saw you wrote the "So, how should we break the news that they’re going to have a new baby brother or sister?” fic. So how about "before five, she's your kid."

Sure thing!! Hope you like this, friend! 

From the @doctorroseprompts kid fic prompt meme. 

Rose groaned and tried to find a comfortable position, which was nearly impossible as pregnant as she was with her second child. Her first child, however, was what woke her in the first place. And her sentient time ship who sometimes felt like a child, seeing as she was technically only nine years old.

Piper and the TARDIS were “whispering” back and forth through the bond they shared, but they didn’t know how to block that bond from the Doctor and Rose. Rose usually appreciated the lack of secrecy there because it meant the two “kids” couldn’t conspire against their parents/pilots, but she was now regretting that the Doctor hadn’t taught them how to keep things between the two of them.

The Doctor rolled over on his back and sighed at the ceiling.

Go to sleep, he sent the TARDIS and his daughter.

The chattering stopped for a few minutes, but then both muffled part-human and TARDIS giggles broke out again.

“They’re not going to listen through telepathy,” Rose reminded him with her eyes still closed. “You know you’re going to have to go in person.”

“Me?” he grumbled. “They’re yours too.”

“Un-uh, before five, she’s your kid. And same goes for the ship.” She cracked an eye open and patted his arm.

“Still think it’s your turn,” he mumbled under his breath as he climbed out of their nice, warm, comfortable bed.

Rose sat up on her elbows (as much as she could) and wordlessly pointed to her six-and-a-half-months-along pregnant belly.

“Point taken.” He nodded sleepily, then added more gently, “Seriously, I’ve got this. Go back to sleep, love.”

He leaned over the bed and kissed her before heading down the hall to Piper’s room.  

Fic, Clockwork

I haven’t been putting out much Danny Phantom fanfiction lately, what with the most stressful semester of my life coming to a close, but now I’m on vacation and get to do some writing. Woo!

Anyways, @danny-phangirl reached out to me with an absolutely amazing idea and requested that I write a fic for it. It was an amazing idea and I couldn’t say no.

The basic boiled down idea is this: This is a Danny Phantom/Doctor Who crossover and gives Clockwork a backstory. I really hope you enjoy reading this nearly as much as I did writing it. Story under the cut. 1,645 words. There is a death scene.

Keep reading

A Doctor Who doodle page I started last night. So far, the Tenth Doctor with a cookie, and Idris, the woman the Tardis matrix possessed… Don’t worry, I wasn’t really trying. No motivation. But I’m posting them anyway. XD
Shakespeare’s Hot Mess: What We Can Learn From Falstaff
In this love letter to the Bard’s “swag-bellied omnivorous cornucopia of appetites,” Harold Bloom argues for Falstaff as one of literature’s vital forces.
By Jeanette Winterson

Bloom frankly accepts that he is an old man losing his friends to death. He knows he doesn’t have much time left himself. His interest is in how we expand the time we have — old or not. Falstaff, himself cartoonishly expanded on the outside, is also a human Tardis, much bigger inside than out, a kingdom got not by usurpation or bloodshed, but by pressing his being so close to life that he becomes the imprint of it.


Celebrating New Who: Favourite Episode (3/3)
↳ The Doctor’s Wife

So my mum and I were at a bookstore today and as we passed its beautiful display of Doctor Who stuff, two boys about 8 years old come running up to the display. They were totally freaking out and drooling over everything and they spent the next several minutes trying to count the dollars and coins in their pockets to purchase a sonic screwdriver. They didn’t have enough however (they even asked the cashier if they could do anything to earn it). It was so freaking cute so of course, I got out my wallet and bought them the screwdriver. The one kid almost cried and the other wouldn’t stop hugging me. 

My heart grew three sizes today.


Written by @fabulouspotatosister

Fanfiction Contest 2016

It mustn’t catch you.

You’re running. 

What’s going on is really quite simple to explain - there’s a hideous monster chasing you, and you are trying to get away. 

And this monster is very, very fast.

Go faster, go faster, you urge your legs, which are padding on a gravelly surface. It was a bad idea to wear your sneakers, because those shoes are very slippery against gravel. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, to wipe away the sweat accumulating near your eyes. You are not dying today. Not now, not ever. Not after all you’ve been through.

You grip an alien knife in your hand and it digs into your skin, blood dripping from a cut on your palm. You remember that a communicator is lying somewhere in the dirt, forgotten and lost, all because you yelped and dropped the damn thing. Now you have no idea where you’re going, just bloody following what the Doctor - yes, you are aware that he’s not there with you, just wait - told you before your clammy fingers let go of the walkie-talkie looking rectangle.

You can faintly remember hearing the Doctor calling out for you as you dashed away but could you go back and tell him that it was fine, it was okay? Of course not! You were being chased by something that you really didn’t want to look at, and there’s no time for reassurance in this kind of situation.

You’d be curious about those carved markings on the wall but you don’t have time - you have to get to the Doctor before the beast gets to you.

You can’t stop and cry about it. That’s for later, when you get back to the TARDIS and try to find that swimming pool that’s always offhandedly mentioned. You have a lot of plans for that pool. Maybe some of those plans involve a certain handsome time traveler, but those are thoughts that should be reserved for another day. 

The monster roars and it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat, if it wasn’t already skipping a bunch of well needed beats. The muscles in your feet are aching and your head is pounding, you can’t think, and you just need to run, run as fast as you can. You turn a corner, giving the monster ample time to catch up with you.

Around the bend, you can just see the TARDIS, that daft blue box, exactly where the Doctor said it was, standing tall and vines slowly crawling over it. You’re practically begging your legs to go quicker, because that ugly thing is right at your heels, its claws almost ripping at your shirt. You cry out and pull away, just before a guttural sound tears from its throat and it lunges at you, its sharp, bloodstained fangs biting just inches from your face.

“DOCTOR!” you scream, your throat dry, as the beast jumps at you once more and you cry out again. You’ll need a nice leg massage after this. You’ve probably lost weight. You call for the Doctor once more - you’re almost there, you’re almost there, you -

The TARDIS doors fling open and you dart in, giving you a good chance to take a look at the alien, a lion-like fiend with blue fur and ferocious eyes, before the doors slam shut and you drop to the floor, breathing heavily, vision blurred and tears running down your face.

You’re silently crying and shaking in fear and just desperately wishing that this horrible feeling in your chest would just go away, when a worried-sounding voice interrupts your rest. You suck in a breath and turn to look behind you, where the Doctor seems to be tied to the console with some kind of slithering vine, bursting with flowers.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but… Could you get me out of here?”

He gives you a smile and you’re glad to return it, pushing your tired self off the ground and cutting through the plant. The alien knife glows with a heat that could only be described as searing. The vine hisses while you slice through it, and it’s a pitiful sound, to be honest. You wince as the cut on your hand stings with the heat of the knife, but you keep going until the vines are in a smoking heap on the TARDIS floor. 

All the while, the Doctor’s giving you that look, the look that’s only reserved for people in pain, which does include you. Yes, you think you’re in pain. Running away from an alien that could have killed you at any moment is tiring, and makes your feet very painful. It’s also emotionally taxing, because there’s a lot of screaming and crying in fear. 

God, do you love this. 

It’s exciting, and that’s what you love about it. Considering that your latest adventure was very Doctor-lite, you were more scared than you usually were on trips like this. Being alone is no fun, being alone with a cute guy is kinda fun, but being alone with a killing machine is not fun at all.

“Thank you,” the Doctor says softly, rubbing his arms, and you nod. He stares at you, that puppy-eyed look still on his face (it reminds you off a dog you had as a child), then pulls you into a warm embrace. Yeah, you definitely needed that. He draws soothing circles on your back, the honeyed scent of his skin filling your nose, and you’ve never felt more relaxed. Honestly, the Doctor should have become a masseuse. He has amazing hands.

“Hey, easy now.” He brushes his lips against your ear and you shudder, in a good way. “Blimey, you’re in bad shape.” He pushes you off and holds you by your shoulders. “How about I take you to that pool, eh? I heard you talking about it a while back. You need a break.”

A nice wash and a fresh set of swimwear later, you’re lying face up on the surface of the pool, feeling the water lap against your cheeks and caress your arms. You feel slightly uncomfortable with the Doctor sitting on a lounge chair not far from where you are - you consider yourself lucky that he’s reading a book, not looking at you at all. It’s a tranquil scene, one only imagined by the minds of the most creative. Not saying that you’re not creative, but it’s hard to actually get this scene in real life.

You pinch your nose and push yourself under, watching the water ripple and wave. You haven’t really mastered the art of holding your breath underwater but you try. 

“Oi!” You hear the Doctor call your name and you resurface, paddling towards the edge of the pool, where the spry brunet Time Lord is waiting for you, a wide grin on his face. You wipe the water out of your eyes and rest your head on the rocky surface. “I know where to go next! Come on, come on, let’s go!”

“Where?” you question him, and he shakes his head. What a strange man.

“I’ll tell you later, come on! Wear something warm!” He stands and darts towards the console room. You sigh and pull yourself up, the rocks hurting the cut on your palm, dry yourself with a fuzzy towel (“Cotton from the holy sheep of Kaltesin, they were the softest sheep in that galaxy,” you recalled the Doctor saying to you - it was a gift for your birthday), wrap yourself with same fuzzy towel, and head back to your room in the TARDIS.

The Doctor often called you ‘a very lucky human’ because the TARDIS never or had the mere idea to move your room. Like many of the companions before you, the TARDIS didn’t like you, but she didn’t hate you either. She just doesn’t have a very high regard for you, being a companion, trying to steal her Doctor away and all. In your opinion, she was like the jealous clingy girlfriend, but could you blame her? You’d do the same - and besides, she met him first.

The console room is big and marvelous, two big spinning disks bearing various names in Gallifreyan, previous companions of the Doctor, faint violet light washing over you. The heart of the TARDIS shines a brilliant light blue, and although it was sparse and simple, it still dazzled you. When you had first entered the TARDIS, you’d said that it was beautiful, unlike the usual ‘bigger on the inside’ stuff. That had pleasantly surprised the Doctor, and he had told you that it was good to hear something else for a change, even if it was quite strange.

“Hello!” The Doctor peeks out his head from behind another part of the console. He pulls himself up and straightens his bowtie once again and you wonder why it always gets crooked. What does he do to make it like that? It’s like it perpetually messes itself around so that he can fix it for dramatic effect.

“Hello,” you greet back, slowly making your way to the Doctor, who is now busy inputting coordinates into the TARDIS. “Where are we going next, Space Boy?”

He grins at you, full and infectious that you find yourself smiling as well. “A new galaxy in the year 2960. It’s practically become a giant winter wonderland, and you know winter wonderlands are cool.” He pauses, and then grins wider. “I made a pun! And and accidental one too. I always love those. It’s filled with scientists but that makes it better, right?”

“Right, and that sounds fun.” You cozy up to the Time Lord, shoulders touching and hands linked. “Then what are we waiting for?”

The Doctor excitedly pulls a lever and you look up and see the TARDIS working its magic. The console room begins to shake and you cling to the Doctor’s coat, laughing and whooping all the way. Your heart leaps with anticipation and you give out a yell, adrenaline rushing through your veins like a hurricane. 

You’ve always loved the thrill of travelling through the Time Vortex. It’s always the same, but the new places you and the Doctor visit are always different. It’s like… It’s a bit hard to explain. It’s like being whisked back to your childhood, way way back, like ‘you’re three years old’ way back, and learning how to speak again. Or-

A sudden jerk, and you are flung across the room. You see the Doctor desperately hanging on, calling out your name intermingled with a chorus of ‘no’s. He’s dancing around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers and typing random strings of Gallifreyan text onto a screen, but all you hear sounds like you’re underwater. Your ears ring and you shakily get back to your feet before falling again. 

Your vision goes blurry and you struggle not to fall unconscious from the pain that’s blossoming in your back. The TARDIS ceases it’s rocking and the Doctor rushes to you, holding your face in his hands while you insist that you’re okay. He helps you to your feet and you almost collapse, your legs like jelly. You pry yourself off him and hold on to a random railing, determined to stay upright.

“I am not having a good day,” you groan. You’re really tired of being injured in some way and you wish you could just relax. “Where did we land?”

The Doctor opens the doors and looks out. You follow and look out as well, seeing a barren, snow-covered landscape with a dark sky. It’s ice for miles and miles, and you see dead bushes peeking out from under the surface. Flakes of snow slowly fall from the heavens. There are no homes, no strange creatures, and definitely no scientists. 

“We landed in the right place, just not in the right time,” the Doctor says, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and pointing it out, scanning the surroundings. “At least no one’s here, coz that would be very bad. I don’t want to ruin your already bad day - I want to make it better.” He smiles and steps out, shoes crunching on the snow. He offers his hand and you take it, the two of you gazing at each other before you step out of the TARDIS as well. 

The Doctor nods at you and you hesitantly snap your fingers, a nervous smile on your face. The TARDIS doors close and your smile grows, the Doctor looking at you with a twinkle in his dusted green eyes before he sweeps you up in one of his famous spinny-hugs. You wonder how he’s able to carry you and you’re about to ask, but then you ignore it, realizing that he’ll probably dismiss it to 'Time Lord strength’, which actually sounds pretty stupid, even though you know it’s true.

“You did it!” he says, his tone akin to a proud parent. He sets you down and you stumble in a dizzy daze. “'Third time’s a charm’, as they always say. I don’t really think three’s a lucky number, certainly wasn’t mine, but I might reconsider.”

You open your mouth to respond with a 'thank you’ or a witty remark, but the Doctor has rushed off, and you assume that he’s gone exploring, before you lay eyes on… something.

It’s a brilliant blue wisp of gas, dancing and swirling around before sprouting a jelly-like proboscis with a light on the end. The Doctor breaks into a grin and whips out his sonic yet again, running circles around the thing and scanning it while you slowly and hesitantly approach the gaseous alien. He places his sonic back inside his long, purple coat and reaches out for the proboscis - it flicks out like a cat’s touch before resting on his forehead. 

You jolt forward in shock as soon as the Doctor’s eyes close, but then you jump back when he opens them and they’re filled with a renewed vigor. He tilts his head to the side and gives the blue wisp and meaningful look.

To your surprise, the blue wisp spins in a circle and solidifies into a facsimile of you, and then a question mark.

The Doctor beckons you over. “Hey! S'alright - look!” He taps his forehead. “Psychic link - they talk without words. Come on, Hemi wants to speak with you. He’s made of hydrogen, that shouldn’t be possible, but he’s here.”

“Hemi?” you querie, tilting your head and walking towards him.

“Yeah, that’s his name,” the Doctor says, grinning at Hemi. “He told me, it’s really cool. Hemi’s lonely, he just wants someone to have a little chit-chat with.”

You gaze at Hemi, and it feels like he’s gazing back, even without eyes. His proboscis flicks out again, and you flinch, but the Doctor looks at you expectantly - you don’t want to disappoint him. Hemi’s proboscis gently lays itself on your forehead, and you suck in a breath. This is gonna be bad.

A flash of white clouds your vision and you instinctively close your eyes, a flood of memories rushing over your mind - they must be the Doctor’s - there’s Rose, Amy, planets, adventure, and of course the pain, the pain that he keeps hidden under a bubbly façade -

Never mind. Not that bad at all, actually. No.

The Doctor faintly calls out your name and you pop open your eyes. Hemi is still staring at you and everything is… clearer, somehow. The Doctor takes your face in his hands and looks you up and down, his eyes like sonic screwdrivers minus the buzzing. You wonder why it buzzes. You know it’s not a weird thing, but it still unnerves you sometimes. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he smiles and pulls you into a hug, which you gladly return. You’d love to stay in a hug for a long time when you hear a tinny voice in the back of your mind say, Um, excuse me? I have something to say.

You stop and the Doctor pulls away from you, then winks at you with a smirk - what a git. You wonder if that’s you thinking it or Hemi thinking it, until you finally come to the conclusion that it’s you and you hope to all the deities in the universe he didn’t hear you. 

Hey, don’t worry. The Doctor can be a massive flirt when he wants to. Hemi. You squint at him and he takes the form of a young woman in a small dress and goofy trainers before dispersing into gas again. What’s the word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and just a tiny bit sexy? She asked that. He replied with his name.

“Can -” You pause and swallow. Can he hear us? The Doctor, I mean.

Hemi swirls around. Nope. 

So, you think, just like private messaging?

Hemi turns into a question mark. What’s that?

Never mind. You glance at the Doctor and he smiles at you again. You’d think you gave him free fish fingers and custard the way he smiles at you all the time. So… Can we share conversations? Me and the Doctor.

No, not yet. Hemi’s voice has gotten higher somehow. He has to give you a psychic link first. So for now, it’s more of a me-you and me-him thing, not me-you-him. He’s a unique one, that Time Lord. Last of his kind, or so he thinks.

He says that quite a lot. The Doctor is frowning at you now. Was Hemi lying? Could the Doctor hear what you were talking about? A shiver runs down your spine. So… What planet is this?

Hemi gives off a soothing aura. I have no idea. It isn’t named, so… I try. I’m not that creative. He changes into a ball, his proboscis swinging around. I wish someone would come over here and name it.

Do you have anyone else with you? Family? You sit down on the snow and Hemi lowers himself, still hovering and a ball. 

Yeah, but they don’t care much for me, so I walk around a bunch. Hemi sighs - or what sound sounds like a sigh. Our kind doesn’t have names. Or a concept of them. I named myself. So they started ignoring me because they didn’t agree with the way I named myself.

I’m sorry, you think, somewhat unhelpfully. Hemi bobs and then forms into a copy of the Doctor. Hemi-Doctor tilts his head to the side and gives you that same meaningful look - and then he dissolves into a flurry of blue with a swinging proboscis. 

You love him, Hemi broadcasts to you. You love him, even though I have no idea what that means. I’ve seen it. It’s such a strong emotion. Hemi shivers, and you stand up. You love him. When will you tell him?

I don’t know. You sigh and shake the dust off your leggings. I don’t know.

“Doctor?” you call, and the Doctor turns to you, his hands clasped behind his back. “Thank you.”

The Doctor’s mouth forms into an astonished 'o’, and then he smiles. 

“You’re very welcome.”

“So what do we name the planet?” you ask, snow falling on your hair and forming a white wreath. The Doctor shrugs. You laugh - of course he’d have no idea how to name the planet. He wasn’t a namer, he was an observer. A very involved observer.

You lay your head on his arm and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. Hemi watches you two and copies you, then disperses out into the dark sky. 

Thank you, you hear Hemi say, and you know that the Doctor can hear it too. I best be going now.

Bye, Hemi.

As you’re walking back to the TARDIS, the Doctor plants a kiss on your forehead. You ponder on Hemi’s words for a second and then smile, albeit a bit nervously. 

Yeah, you love him. You don’t dare to tell him though. He probably doesn’t feel the same way anyway. Probably. Or… well, probably.

You’re already resting on your bed in your room when everything goes dark.

Off to another adventure.

This is really just a cute fic. I am always up for some pining. No, really, pining is my favorite thing, and this is some realistic pining we have here with a very nice, subtle tease at the idea that the pining might be mutual. There were some very minor grammatical and spelling errors, but I once submitted a professional report with the word 'threw’ instead of 'through’, so I understand how that goes. The story might be a bit complicated for an imagine, but we can chalk this up to a whole lot of creativity trying to force itself onto the page. And, yes, this is very creative, and points can be given for the character of “Hemi,” who is both cute and a convincing alien.