see, like, missy has been a very touchy character in this regen?
she snogs the doctor, and constantly rests her arm around him/on his shoulder (outside st paul’s, and once she’s free on the plane, to name a few times), and just holding on to him for dear life when he kisses her in the graveyard. she wraps her arm around osgood. in s9, she reaches into clara’s personal space to make her have the vortex manipulator, and she sits very closely to the doctor in the ship.
getting into people’s personal spaces is a very quick and effective way to make them very uncomfortable, and she uses this to her advantage to scare osgood, and her just being nearby people makes them nervous.
the scene in which she reaches for the doctor (and to me she looks like she’s reaching to fix his coat, like in s8 with the unit/cybermen in the square scene), he steps back, and it shows she wants to be near him and touch him for her own comfort, not to make him uncomfortable. she instantly stops, and freezes and looks down and laces her fingers together, kinda shakily. she doesn’t continue her attempt, which is something the old her might have done - stepping forward and not allowing a rejection in the first place.
12 recognizes, however, how much she needs that contact, but isn’t ready to give it. he’s not much of a hugging person, but he understands that she needs that from him, so he does what he can. her reaction to this, like she’s taking a breath, about to speak, is so fundamental. she knows he’s trying to help her too, but doesn’t know how to convey how much she needs it without embarrassing herself/acting ooc.
i feel that missy really needs that hug. she really, really needs it. even just from bill. she hasn’t really had physical contact with anyone in years, presumably, and that does things to a person whose character revolves a lot around it. she’s restraining herself so much.
Requested by @eurusholmmes. Also, this is my 1,000th post! Yay! I don’t really think this fic is ready, but it needed to be posted, so here it is.
You were so close.
You leaned against the smooth edge of the console, relief still humming in your veins after one of those adventures. You know. One of the we-almost-died-but-it-turned-out-fine-so-we-won’t-talk-about-the-extreme-emotional-tension-we-just-had adventures that left you feeling both buzzed and drained and wondering why the Doctor hadn’t done or said something differently in those moments of hey we might be dying.
The Doctor relaxed beside you, hunched just enough for you to be shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to hip. He was still just slightly out of breath from the run you had taken to get back to the TARDIS without getting caught and killed (because, y'know, that would be bad). You would give him a few more minutes before you asked him if he was alright (he would say that, yes, he was fine, but you would know by that point that, no, he was not fine, and then you would have to drag him down to sickbay like a fussy child).
“Well,” you said, bouncing one knee in an attempt to work off whatever was left of the adrenaline in your system, “that was, uh, fun.”
“Yes,” the Doctor agreed, voice slightly breathy. “Let’s never do it again.”
“You’ll hear no argument from me.”
The conversation refused to carry and you found yourself noticing it again. How close you were. All either of you had to do was turn just a little bit and- and- had he done this on purpose? He had been getting more and more comfortable with the touching. The hugging was still a bit iffy, but he was the one who had put himself so close to you.
He leaned even closer to you.
“It’s okay now,” you said, hoping that was what he needed to hear. Sometimes that was enough.
But not this time, apparently, because instead of relaxing, the Doctor wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him.
He was hugging you, you realized, shock turning you stiff in his embrace before you relaxed and leaned back into him.
“I almost lost you today,” he whispered harshly. his hands balling into fists against your back.
It’s wasn’t that bad, you wanted you say, but you didn’t say that, because you knew exactly how bad it was. He had almost lost you, and you had almost lost him. And the worst part was that you hadn’t said anything. You had stayed silent when you thought you were going to die. Neither of you said a word. You held his hand, like you always would, but you didn’t say what you should have.