omg here
stupidbloodyidiots submitted:
- http://stupidbloodyidiotsarchive.tumblr.com/post/19401185134/it-concerns-me-too-that-amy-kind-of-got-shafted-in
- http://stupidbloodyidiotsarchive.tumblr.com/post/20682747940/an-actual-platonic-look-at-the-doctor-and-amys (about how complex and awesome her relationship with eleven is)
And quickly, my perspective on why Amy is the fucking bomb:
Ghost Stories
Rated G, hints of Eleven/Clara and Doctor/Rose
“You flew the TARDIS on your own.”
Everything has died down - she’s sitting alone in the console room with the Doctor, and the silence between them up until now hasn’t been uncomfortable so much as awkwardly contemplative. She’s glad he’s the one to have spoken first - after everything, now that the momentum an adrenaline has worn off, she has nothing to say.
“It wasn’t really me,” she says. “I just hung on for dear life and pressed a few buttons here and there.” She smiles at him.
Every time she starts to babble, he proposes.
Maybe it’s a habit she picked up while they were apart, trying—however subconsciously—to bring back a piece of him into her life. Whatever the cause, now that they’re back together in this parallel universe, sometimes she’ll just start talking. And talking and talking. Sometimes about her mum, or Tony, maybe about the bath salts she’s just purchased, or a blouse that fits poorly. But she’ll just start talking, and at first he couldn’t figure out what had gotten into her, but when he put the pieces together—he was tinkering under the sink trying put in a sonic filter—he just laughed.
After that, it became a game. The first time he did it, when she was rambling about how Tony had accidentally killed his goldfish when he tried to feed it a banana, she spilled her tea all over the table. One minute she was on about that poor fish and how he clearly had too much influence on Tony, and the next he was asking her to marry him, and she was this close to a spit take.
As not to scare her too much, he quickly changed the subject and her breathing slowly returned to normal.
And a week later, when she starts talking at length about how they ought to buy a different kind of tea because the stuff they’re drinking tastes funny, he asks her again, and she does a double take at him, trying to assess what it is he’s playing at, before he smiles at her and laughs before changing the subject.
This continues, and she learns that he’s never serious. She’s smart, his Rose, but it confuses him when her rambling moments begin to increase in their frequency. It’s as if she wants to hear him ask it.
So one night, when they’re laying in bed, and it is quiet and he knows that Rose is on the verge of sleep, he asks again.
There is a moment of still, pregnant silence when she doesn’t answer.
“Are you actually asking this time?” she whispers so quietly that he is unsure he’s actually heard it.
“I’ve been actually asking every time, Rose.”
He can’t see her face, but if he could, he’d see a giant grin that she is trying and failing to smother in her pillow.
“Yes,” she answers finally, and shifts around to look at him.
“That’s the one word that I’ve been waiting for.”
i bet niall is really ticklish and when you’re making out and your hands are roaming his body he’ll giggle into your mouth and pull away with blue sparkling eyes and a wide smile on his face and he’ll run a hand through his hair and mumble an apology and attach his lips to yours again
