#by uma

[umayashla]

silly bkdk comic

[umayashla]

[umayashla]

uma & her bf lmfao (+ a base she made)

ref under cut

[umayashla]

uma's bf

[umayashla]

uma's drawing for an art challenge!

day 1 - a random character/oc

[umayashla]

Part of a Collab we were doing with @luciferwili ! This one is Uma's

(og base under cut)

[imaginedwcharacters]

imagine twelve running into Rory before he's sent back to New York while Eleven is off on one of his solo adventures, and Amy's at work.

He was being a nostalgic fool, and he knew it. Worse, he was being a reckless fool. He was better than this sort of nonsense, especially his new self, but, well, even a new face might sometimes miss old friends. The Doctor still had a key to their home, of course. He supposed they had a key to his as well, although he couldn’t quite remember.

It was midday on a Tuesday, when the Tardis materialized outside the Pond residence. Rory always had a regular job at the hospital, the whole time the Doctor had known him, and he had specifically chosen a point in Amy’s timeline in which she also had a job that brought her out of the house, although he couldn’t quite remember what that job was. It didn’t really matter to him, anyway, jobs and all that. That was other people stuff. But it was best that Amy didn’t see him. Not that she would know him if she did catch a glimpse.

He let himself into their house, just to soak in memories for a while, like the sentimental old man he was. His outsides finally matched his insides again, at least in that respect.

He sat on their couch, but didn’t collapse on it the way his old self would have; he had a bit more dignity now, and quite a bit more coordination. Dignity and coordination aside, however, he positively leapt up out of his seat when he saw Rory enter the room.

“Erm, who are you?” Rory said, standing, looking rather surprised to see a strange man in his house. He (Rory, that is) was wearing a gray sweatshirt over what appeared to be striped pajamas.

“What are you doing here?” the Doctor asked, looking sternly at Rory. “Don’t you have a job?”

“Of course I have a… I’m sick!” Rory said, somewhat defensively. “But that doesn’t answer who you are. Or what you’re doing here!”

“Home inspections,” the Doctor said gravely. “You’ve passed. I’ll just be on my way then.” He made to leave, hoping desperately that Rory was ill enough for this to work.

“Alright then. Wait, hang on, no!” Rory said, and shook his head in confusion. “Sorry, it’s your accent. I’m used to just going along with a Scottish accent.”

“Oh, I know. Me too,” the Doctor said, without thinking. The last words caught in his throat. This house was getting to him, and Rory was noticing. Rory frowned. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” Rory asked, breaking the silence. “The Doctor. Another Doctor. Not our Doctor, a different one.” They stared at each other, both weighing the others’ silence. Suddenly, Rory nodded. “Go, then. If you need to.”

The Doctor left, without a sound, and Rory sank to the couch, his unanswered question on his lips. What happens to Amy and I, Doctor? What happens to us?

The Doctor walked slowly back to his Tardis, bitterly regretting the trip, but also feeling strangely comforted. This was not exactly closure, but it was a reminder that though the Ponds might exist in time the same way that they always had while he changed faces, Rory had recognized him. Time did change many things, but not everything. Not quite.