I’m sorry I haven’t been very active, I went through a bit of a mental dry patch and couldn’t have written anything halfway decent if my mother’s life depended on it. I promise I’m not ignoring requests because I want to.
It’s quiet in the common room at night, when everyone’s gone to sleep, dreaming of soft things like clouds and marshmallows floating in lakes of hot chocolate or something of that sort.
Yes, it’s quiet. And everyone dreams. And yet, padding gently down stone stairs in Christmas pattern socks is a girl, Y/N, whose dreams had not been so soft. They had been rather frightening in fact, and had motivated her out of bed and in the direction of the boys dormitory where she knew James Potter would be sleeping soundly save a few twitches here and there.
can you do 147 from the prompts ask thingy pls!? (for jackcrutchie because they the best lol)
Once again, we find ourselves with a far too long, 6,000+ word fic. I highly recommend listening to Sara Bareilles’ “Manhattan” for the final section, which you’ll recognize by the tense shift. Anyway, it’s been fun to write, and I hope it’s fun to read.
TW: blood, violence (there’s some fighting between the Delanceys and newsboys)
147: “I can take care of myself just fine.”
Rolling, booming thunder practically shook the walls of the newsboy’s Lodging House. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the newsies curled into bed in various positions. Race had fallen asleep, both his legs dangling over the edge of the top bunk. Romeo was curled up, his face pressed into Race’s hip. Specs was spread out, taking up nearly the entire bunk, with Jojo curled into a tight ball at the edge. Mush had an arm slung over Blink, as the latter boy shifted in his sleep, pulling himself closer to the other.
Jack gripped at his pencil with its rubbed-raw eraser, trying to focus on the old newspaper on his lap. He carefully added another line to his sketch, checking the shading, before starting on the next part of his drawing. Carefully round out the chin, make sure the neck isn’t too long, check the curls that bounced down the forehead. The eyes sparkled with a joke. Jack grinned wryly, pleased that the sketch was actually turning out to look like–
A forked lightning bolt split across the darkened Manhattan sky, followed immediately by shaking thunder. Jack’s hand jerked, the lead slashing across his friend’s face. In frustration, he shoved the drawing away, stuffing the pencil behind his ear. He hugged his arms around himself, glaring at the night sky. Jack hated thunderstorms. He didn’t mind the way thunder growled across the sky, or how lightning would shine, bright-white, even in the darkest alley. But, he absolutely loathed the unpredictability of it. Jack could never tell when the lightning would strike, when the thunder would roar. And, each time it managed to startle him, no matter how much he steeled himself for the flash and noise that were sure to come.
The newsboys continued to snore, shifting ever so slightly. Jack watched them with envy. He used to try to sleep through thunderstorms, but the constant noise and flashing lights kept him awake. Jack sighed, before jumping down from his top bunk. Even the slight thud of his feet on the cold, wooden ground did not awake the sleeping newsies. Not that Jack expected it to. If those boys could sleep through ear-cracking thunder, then a small thump wouldn’t interrupt their dreams. He silently padded out of the room, making his way out into the main room. If he couldn’t sleep, Jack figured that he might as well do something productive.
Jeonghan didn’t look all that different that morning. The hair length was the same, just to the shoulders and perfectly straight with that little curl on the end. Jeonghan didn’t notice anything particularly off that morning either. Had he not been half asleep, taken a double take, looked at his reflection in the mirror would he have noticed something, well, off.
And so Jeonghan stood in front of the toilet, his legs slightly parted to empty his about-to-burst bladder when he finally noticed.
Where the fuck was his dick.
Jeonghan patted himself down as he realized that something was definitely off that morning. Where a flat chest once resided was now replaced with a small petite mound while his dick seemed to have shrunk.
Jeonghan swore he didn’t fall asleep like this last night. Maybe it was a nightmare and he was bound to wake up at six in the morning because his alarm clock was beeping uncontrollably. Yeah, that was it, this was all just a nightmare.
One hour and thirty-three minutes later, Jeonghan is frantically pacing the house as he- or is it she- ponders the thought of how he, she, was going to turn back.
Seungcheol was the next one to wake up that morning. He sat up in bed and felt an immense pressure on his chest, a pressure he had only experienced when benching weights. Seungcheol stretched, his long, wavy hair brushing past his not-so-toned arms.
Long, wavy hair?
Seungcheol looked down at his bare chest— provided the fact that Seungcheol still didn’t make it a habit of wearing a shirt to sleep— saw two significantly large masses of tissues clinging to his torso.
At exactly 7:38 in the morning, a high-pitched, girlish scream sounded through the dorms of Seventeen, Jeonghan immediately running to the source of the room.
“Thank Jisoos I’m not the only one.”
Seungcheol held her blanket tightly to her chest and wailed, “What the fuck is going on Jeonghan?!”
Seungcheol trembled as Jeonghan let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding in.
“Do you really think I would know? I woke up like a girl too.”
Seungcheol flopped back into her bed and groaned, “Please tell me this is a dream.”
Footsteps padded through the halls as Chan, the only one bothered enough to wake up from the scream, reached the room.
Chan’s face flushed deep shades of maroon as he saw Jeonghan and her Nana-like body. He covered his face in utter embarrassment and squeaked out an apology.
“Chan, it’s me, Jeonghan.”
Chan stopped muttering apologies and peeked through his fingers. Sure enough, the tall slender girl wearing gray sweatpants and a thin white t-shirt that barely provided enough padding for the girl’s breasts was Jeonghan.
“Hyung,” Chan’s hands left his face, a slight blush lingering on his cheeks. “Why are you…”
Chan couldn’t finish his question; the context of his question was just too weird, especially at 7:42 AM. Chan cleared his throat and asked, “Who screamed?”
Jeonghan leaned back slightly as Seungcheol sat up and raised her hand up, the blanket slipping from her armpit and exposing her breasts. Chan definitely got an eyeful that morning along with major blood loss as his nose started bleeding before he fainted. Seungcheol covered herself up again while Jeonghan sat the fallen boy against the wall and ran off to get him an ice pack.
The rest of the members slowly awoke later that morning, Seungkwan being the second one to be utterly flabbergasted.
“Is this some sort of sick joke? Hyung, Halloween already passed and April Fools isn’t for another couple of months.”
Seungkwan refused to accept reality as he saw Seungcheol’s breasts bounce while she walked around the kitchen to get food for breakfast.
Jeonghan was on one end of the breast spectrum while Seungcheol was the far opposite. Jeonghan was actually pretty flat chested while Seungcheol has breasts worthy of a Soma model. Seungcheol had curves all over, his butt and honey thighs putting Nicki Minaj to shame while Jeonghan looked like she was ready for the runway.
The vocal line was the first to all collect in the kitchen, Jisoo’s eyes rooted to Jeonghan and her softer facial features. Jihoon ended up burying his face in his arms to keep himself from staring at Seungcheol’s breasts and Seokmin moonwalked his way back to his room, thinking he was still asleep.
Once Minghao and Junhui woke up, they made their way to the kitchen for breakfast and tried to run back into the rooms once they saw the long flowing hair of Choi Seungcheol.
Jeonghan was feeling pretty bad about herself at this point. None of the boys reacted to her when they first saw her, mainly because of the fact that she really didn’t look any different than when she was a boy. The only significant change about her was the amount of weight she dropped. Her height didn’t really change though; she was only a couple centimeters shorter than her original height. Jisoo seemed to have noticed Jeonghan’s silent brooding because he put his arm over her shoulder and engaged in a conversation with her as Mingyu entered the kitchen and screamed once he saw Seungcheol, the carton of milk in his hands falling to the ground and spilling everywhere.
“Mingyu!! What the fuck! Help me clean this up!”
Wonwoo sat at the kitchen countertop and stared at the unraveling scene, Mingyu getting towels to clean up the spill. Seungcheol, who was now wearing the biggest shirt she could find because her breasts were too large to fit in anything else, bent over and started to clean up the spill, her cleavage noticeably visible. Red liquid flowed from Wonwoo’s nose as he strained to look at Seungcheol’s bouncing cleavage.
“Uh, Wonwoo?” Jisoo held out a tissue for Wonwoo. “Your nose is bleeding.”
Wonwoo took the tissue and pinched his nose to stop the blood flow. Vernon and Soonyoung were the last ones to enter the situation that fine morning, now afternoon. They entered the stony silent kitchen and looked around in confusion. The rest of Seventeen were seated or standing around the kitchen countertop, the two girls sitting right next to each other. Soonyoung was the first to notice the girls, and his eyes had never been so wide. He prodded Vernon’s shoulder and whisper-hissed, “There are two girls in our dorm!!”
Chan, who was better now from the earlier mishap, shook his head and said, “Nah, that’s just Seungcheol hyung and Jeonghan hyung.”
Vernon paled and walked out of the room, running into a few walls along the way as Soonyoung had to take a seat.
“What are we going to do about,” Jisoo made a wild gesture to the girls sitting at the end of the table. “That?”
“We don’t have any major comeback coming up, so it’s not like we have to make any appearances anywhere,” Soonyoung pointed out.
“But how are we going to practice and record the songs when their vocals and bodies are fucked up?” Jihoon asked.
The table grew silent again, Vernon coming back into the kitchen and sitting next to Seungkwan, who patted his back and whispered comforting things into his ear.
“I guess we’ll just have to practice without them. We still have to rehearse and work,” Soonyoung concluded, the girls solemnly nodding their heads.
“You better switch back before our comeback though,” Seungkwan said as he pointed an accusing finger at the two girls. Vernon slapped Seungkwan’s hand away and left before he could pass out.
It had been a week since the girls arrived. Jeonghan ended up going shopping, since she looked the most normal in comparison to Seungcheol, and bought some panties and bras for the two to use. Busty Seungcheol was a definite problem in the Seventeen household. The girls actually had to go online and calculate what size bras Seungcheol would need. The panties weren’t a problem; she was a medium. As for her bras, those cost quite a bit.
“Here,” Jeonghan threw the bag into Seungcheol’s lap.
“You owe me $150. Your bras were fucking expensive.”
Seungcheol could only gawk at the bras on her lap. She had seen them countless times when she had gone to the mall with her mother, but she had never touched nor used one before. She immediately got up and went to the bathroom, only to scream and run away.
Jeonghan rushed over to the trembling girl standing by the bathroom and turned a ghastly shade of white.
“Jihoon…. Are you dying?”
Jihoon was the next to be found as a girl. Not only that, but she came with blood flowing out of her like a tidal wave. Jeonghan ended up going back to the store that day.
Jihoon was a petite girl. She actually got a lot shorter; she was now only 4 feet and 11 inches tall. Her hair was freakishly long, the pink dye making its way all the way to the ends of her hair. Her long ass hair went past her butt and, surprisingly enough, did not seem to get tangled. Her hair was also naturally straight, Seungcheol enviously glaring at her whenever she walked by her.
As for her period problem, Jihoon just stuck to using pads; she didn’t like the idea of looking at the bloody mess between her legs every time a tampon got used up. She hated periods. She hated the endless cramps, the hourly bathroom checks, the sit-with-your-legs-together-before-blood-leaks-everywhere, and oh god, she despised the food cravings. She wasn’t the only one though.
“Jeonghan hy- wait, is it unnie now? Jeonghan unnie!!”
Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the emptied bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
“You just had a whole fucking bowl of popcorn!!”
Jihoon, who found a guitar, most probably from Jisoo’s room, held it up threateningly and said, “I’m hungry.”
Jeonghan hesitated before going into the kitchen and saying, “One order of ramyun it is.”
For the most part, Jihoon was either eating, bleeding into the toilet, or sleeping. She was supposed to be working on new songs for Seventeen’s future comeback, but no one wanted to approach her when she carried a guitar with her everywhere. Not even Jisoo, even though it was his guitar.
“If any more of us turns into girls,” Jeonghan said as she blowdried Seungcheol’s thick, black, wavy hair. “I will cry.”
The boys were in the studio practicing the new choreography Soonyoung came up with, the girls lazing away in the dorms. Jeonghan was the only one able to go out into public because she looked the same in contrast to Seungcheol and Jihoon who changed significantly, so she decided to keep the other girls company as Jihoon complained of stomach cramps and Seungcheol walking around carefully because she now realized the pain of having two lumps of fat on her chest.
“No one else will become a girl, don’t worry,” Jihoon spoke through mouthfuls of chips while swatting Seungcheol’s hand away, who was reaching to take a chip or two from the bag of chips Jihoon was holding onto possessively.
“I hope so. Seungcheol’s hair is already too much of a problem, imagine the rest of the boys turning into girls.”
Seungcheol was a problem, other than the undergarments issue. Her hair, unlike Jihoon’s or Jeonghan’s, seemed to shed worse than a dog, long strands of black hair collecting on the ground. Mingyu, who was fond of cleaning up, actually got sick and tired of seeing Seungcheol’s hair on the ground that he just handed her the vacuum cleaner and left. And thanks to Jihoon’s excessive eating, Seungcheol was now in charge of cleaning up all the crumbs as well.
“Stop eating those, you’re going to get fat,” Jeonghan confiscated the bag of chips from Jihoon, Jihoon immediately whining and holding up the guitar threateningly.
“And I know you got done with your period yesterday.”
Jihoon could only scowl as she hugged the guitar to her tiny, yet significant, chest.
Jeonghan could only pray no one else became girls.
Soonyoung was gorgeous that morning she stumbled, more like glisséd, out of the bedroom. Her hair was slightly longer than Jeonghan’s, but a brilliant shade of blonde that could only be found on Dutch women. Her hair, although a nice length, was a mix between wavy and straight, not to mention voluminous as fuck. Soonyoung’s eyes seemed to have gotten smaller and more playful. She lost a couple centimeters off her height, but boy oh boy did she have a sense of balance. Not only that, she also seemed to have developed the flexibility of a gymnast and the dance skills of a ballerina and an ice dancer.
Soonyoung seemed to be having too much fun as she pirouetted into the living room, Jihoon scrunching her nose in disdain.
“You wish you were as flexible as me, don’t you?” Soonyoung jeered as she lifted her right leg above her head.
Jihoon slung the guitar over her shoulder and said, “Shut up.”
Soonyoung immediately lowered her leg and apologized as a rather large burrito rolled into the living room. Jihoon slowly approached the burrito and prodded it with her foot.
“What is it?”
A tiny tuft of hair popped out from an end of the burrito blanket and Soonyoung said, “More like who is it.”
The burrito whimpered, Soonyoung immediately guessing who it was.
“Seokmin, are you a girl?”
The burrito nodded and rolled into Soonyoung’s legs before wrapping around Soonyoung.
“Pain,” a soft voice whispered out of the blanket, Seokmin’s fragile, feminine face finally escaping through the blanket. Her eyes were just a little wider than before and her cheekbones were a little more defined. Her hair was a short bob that barely reached the end of her neck and her eyebrows were just about as soft as her hair.
Seokmin hugged her knees to her chest and rolled side to side as she tried to get rid of the pain. Jihoon, assuming Seokmin was on her period, went to the medicine box and pulled out painkillers for the burrito girl. Jihoon also got Seokmin a pack of Oreos and helped her onto the sofa where she could divulge her pain away. Soonyoung, being the considerate girl she was, stayed by Seokmin’s side as she cried silent tears because of her cramps.
Jeonghan was the official errand girl at this point; however, it was getting risky to go out into public and buy feminine hygiene supplies without someone recognizing her. She was forced to put on a face mask and pay the full price without being able to get an idol discount. Jeonghan’s money was pretty much gone by the end of Seokmin’s period, and so was her happiness.
Chan helped the girls out the most. He helped around the house with chores and did the laundry. He felt bad for the girls who were sitting in the dorms doing virtually nothing. They sat at home playing video games, eating, sleeping, bleeding to death, or complaining about the fact that they were girls. Mingyu kept on cleaning the house out of irritation that there were long ass hairs scattered all over the dorm. Jisoo would lend the girls money because that was the American gentleman he was. That and the fact that he just couldn’t say no to Jeonghan. Both Minghao and Junhui would tell the girls what they worked on and what they should work on next; basically petty talk for the girls to tune in on.
The boys tried to help the girls to the best of their ability, but most of them were afraid that they too would turn into girls if they so much as touched the turned boys. Wonwoo was of no help whatsoever. All he would do was just stare at the girls’ breasts and butt whenever they bent over, earning a black eye from Jihoon, who flung the guitar at him one fine day when Wonwoo smacked Jihoon’s ass. Vernon, let alone talking, would not even make eye contact with the girls. He was in denial half the time, saying that the girls just went on vacation somewhere without him. Seungkwan, in particular, stayed the furthest away; he didn’t want to bleed himself to death anytime soon.
It was ironic, really. Seungkwan never really wanted to experience being like a girl, even though he was sassier than one.
No one could really notice that Seungkwan turned into a girl because of how many layers she was wearing that morning. It was so cold that day that she had to bundle up in almost all the blankets she owned. As she waddled out into the living room, no one seemed to notice the difference about her face, mainly because of the fact that she looked like an Eskimo and that no one could see her nose or lips. Vernon was the first to realize that she turned into a girl because of her eyes and the “vibes emitting off her.” As Vernon fled the scene, he bumped into a not-so-manly Mingyu and screamed as she was wearing no shirt or bra.
Mingyu was still tall. She neither shrunk nor grew. Her blue hair seemed to brush the small of her back and was wavy as fuck. Her smile was still beautiful and her hips seemed to sashay around the dorm endlessly. Her long tan legs had Wonwoo tripping everywhere and her bust, not living up to the size of Seungcheol’s, were still pretty big. If Wonwoo wasn’t tagging along to Mingyu before, now he was definitely glued. Mingyu didn’t seem to mind though; she was gorgeous in contrast to her earlier handsomeness.
Seungkwan was petite but on the chubbier side. Her cheeks puffed out as if she was always irritated or upset and her eyes drooped downwards slightly, giving her the look of a Basset Hound. Like Seokmin, her hair was also short but cascaded past her collarbones. She seemed to have shrunk a couple centimeters and wow did she look good in skirts.
Jeonghan, now taking advantage of Jisoo’s credit card, bought more feminine clothing for the girls to wear just because dorm life was getting boring. She bought fashionista clothing for herself and Seokmin, cutesy clothes for petite Seungkwan and Jihoon, and Soonyoung seemed to wear nothing but sports apparel. As for Mingyu and Seungcheol, Jeonghan bought clothes from Victoria’s Secret for Seungcheol, because her breasts were too large to fit in anything from Pink, and Pink clothes for Mingyu.
Sadly, as the girls kept appearing, Junhui turned to the dark side where Wonwoo resided. They simply could not live a day without having to slap a girl’s butt and stare at their cleavage. In other words, they were deprived.
“Listen, I’m sorry Doogi PD tampered with the wifi to block the porn, but that is no reason for you to stick your face in my bosom Wonwoo,” Seungcheol sighed out as she tried to pry Wonwoo off her.
“Just five more minutes,” Wonwoo whined as he dug his nose deeper in Seungcheol’s breasts.
Seungcheol seemed to reek of girl, as noted by Wonwoo, and Wonwoo couldn’t get enough of that smell. He, along with Junhui, also preferred the stylings of Kim Mingyu and her luscious ass that was discovered accidentally one day as Junhui entered the bathroom while Mingyu was taking a shower. There was more blood that came out of Junhui’s nose than any of the periods the girls seemed to experience.
Chan and Jisoo both spent the most time with Jeonghan. Chan spent time with her because of the fact she looked like Nana while Jisoo just liked Jeonghan in general, but he liked her just a little bit more now because, well, she was a beautiful girl, girl being the key word. Jeonghan was ever so grateful for the attention, and Jisoo’s credit card.
Neither Seokmin nor Soonyoung had special attention from the boys. They didn’t mind though because half the time they were doing each other’s nails and hair. And somehow, they managed to go out into public and by a shit ton of accessories, which they decorated the girls in. At the end of the day, Seungcheol went around with angel earrings in her ear piercing, not that she minded though.
Minghao seemed to prefer the petite girls and would strike up conversations with them whenever Junhui decided to act like a pervert, which was basically all the time. Seungkwan nor Jihoon had ever experienced this side of Minghao before; they called it “The Boyfriend Observation,” and took notes on whatever Minghao did to make them blush so that they could use it for when they turned back.
And that was a problem by itself because no one knew how long this “magical spell” would last in the first place. The Boyfriend Observation thrived as Seungkwan and Jihoon talked to Chan and Jisoo as well. It was basically useless to try to talk to Wonwoo and Junhui because all they wanted to do were things unimaginable, not to mention that Vernon refused to exit his bedroom and worked in there.
The petite girls learned that Minghao is sweet as fuck, Jisoo really does know his way around words, and Chan was still immature but too cute. Jihoon did most of the talking though; she seemed to fit Jisoo’s and Minghao’s ideal type. Chan was futile after a while because he just wasn’t boyfriend material.
The Boyfriend Observation died when Minghao could no longer b-boy with her breasts and Jisoo decided it was time for her to bleed herself to death.
Junhui left the busty girls life when he saw how fragile Minghao had turned and Jisoo’s model like body. He also realized the beauty of Yoon Jeonghan and her composure as she worked around the house. He seemed to have escaped the clutches of the dark side as Wonwoo, well.
“Wonwoo get the fuck out of the shower!!”
Seungcheol, who offered to scrub Mingyu’s back, didn’t realize that she left the bathroom door unlocked. Wonwoo, a very horny boy at this point, entered the bathroom shirtless and ready to fuck. Wonwoo got beat up that day, a purple mark covering his eye. Doogi PD asked about it; Wonwoo said he slipped.
Doogi PD actually didn’t know about the situation until both Seokmin and Seungkwan skipped out on their radio show. Up until then, the boys told Doogi PD that the boys were just getting bad colds, and Doogi PD actually believed them because “Mingyu keeps sneezing on the other members.” And so Doogi PD believed right up until the point where he decided to visit the boys in the dorm.
“Boys I hope yo-”
Doogi PD paled as he saw a girl that looked suspiciously like Jihoon walked in front of him. She was clad in a baby pink, frilly dress with bows in her hair. She was also holding a guitar to her chest and had an irresistible pout on her face.
“Guys?” The girl with pink hair called out. “I think we have to tell Doogi PD now!”
Doogi PD sat on the sofa as not-so-different Jeonghan explained what happened to him. Jisoo, who was having period cravings, stole the thermos that contained the soup that Doogi PD brought for the “sick boys.”
“When are you guys going to become guys again? You have a schedule you know.”
Jeonghan never talked back to Doogi PD, but she felt an urge of irritation wave through her body and said, “Do you think I know? I don’t want to be a girl!”
Doogi PD was taken aback at the words, but he couldn’t get mad at a female Jeonghan, so he stayed silent.
Doogi PD canceled all of Seventeen’s schedules and sent a statement out to the press explaining why Seventeen was “quarantined.” Naturally, all the fans blamed Mingyu because he simply did not know how to sneeze like a normal human being, thus losing many fans because of how “disgyusting” he was. Mingyu was offended and went on Twitter later that day to make a statement that was unfortunately overlooked.
Vernon still stayed in the room and only came out of the room to either use the bathroom or get something to eat, which was basically on the hour. Jihoon kept a watch on him to see if he would turn into a girl anytime soon.
Everyone’s wallet seemed to have emptied when three of the four remaining boys turned into girls one night. They needed to buy more bras, underwear, and clothes overall because Junhui was wide shouldered and wide hipped, Vernon was naturally thin, and Chan had the body structure of a twelve-year-old.
Jeonghan went shopping for the girls again. She bought sports clothes for athletically built Junhui, hipster clothing for the teen like Vernon, and neon clothing from Justice for Chan. Soonyoung and Seokmin also bought more accessories because when Vernon turned, she started dressing up in new clothes every day and refused to wear the same things twice.
Wonwoo was a full blown out pervert now. He managed to scrap up all of his money to buy a high definition camera and take pictures of the girls in their “finest moments.” Whether it be looking cute or looking hot, Wonwoo took pictures of literally every scenario. His favorites, the one that made it into The Album, were ones of the girls bending down or full out naked because they forgot to lock the bathroom door before they took a shower. It didn’t help that Seungcheol still didn’t fix her habit; she still slept shirtless, which Wonwoo had the pleasure of finding out after he went on a midnight spree and took pictures of the girls sleeping.
Wonwoo and his trusty camera didn’t last long, however. Jihoon took the camera and smashed it to itty bitty pieces, Wonwoo’s tears falling to the ground as his camera rested on the ground like pieces of a puzzle. As for his pictures, those stayed safe in places unimaginable.
The girls spent quality time braiding each others hair, doing each others’ nails, and watching k-dramas while being confined to the dorms. A couple more girls had periods and food ran out three times as fast than when they were boys, which was surprising because the boys, now girls, never thought girls ate that much.
Ice cream and Oreos became a necessity along with plenty of tissue boxes and pads for those overemotional period girls. Wonwoo was declared errand boy after a cashier almost recognized Jeonghan and absolutely hated it because he didn’t want to have to rent chick flicks for the girls whose hormones were off the walls.
Seungcheol broke all of her bras during this long month and no one wanted to buy her new ones, therefore she roamed the house with a low cut shirt that Jeonghan bought from Victoria’s Secret, Wonwoo now having a restraining order to keep him away from Seungcheol. Not only that, but Wonwoo wasn’t even allowed to use the dorms’ bathroom; he had to go to the gas station across the street.
Wonwoo, along with holy Jisoo and the rest of the girls, prayed that the girls turned back into boys every night.
Wonwoo was appalled. Her skin was so pale and her hair was likewise Mingyu’s; wavy and long. She too had a nice ass and her bosom was breasttaking. Her beautiful thighs, er, eyes and her hips don’t lie. She looked better than IU and Suzy put together that she could only cry. Wonwoo was her own ideal type and it hurt.
The girls wished they were boys again and that Wonwoo remained a girl because God forbid she was eye candy. Maybe she even tasted as sweet. Jihoon pulled out her camera, the one she and Seungkwan used for The Boyfriend Observation and made Wonwoo model almost every day.
Wonwoo tried different styles. Her first attempt was the gothic look because she was most comfortable in that. After being thoroughly lectured by Vernon, the true fashionista, Wonwoo, the former fashionista, made a comeback. She tried the sporty look, the cutesy look, the sexy look, but nothing looked as good at the hipster style.
Wonwoo had never wanted her piercings back so badly before. Even if they poked the space behind her ears every time rolled over in her sleep, it was worth it. The accessories Soonyoung and Seokmin bought were all she wanted now. And she decided that it was time to re-pierce her ears.
“Wonwoo, are you sure about this?”
Mingyu held an ice cube to Wonwoo’s ear lobe as Jeonghan hesitantly held up a needle.
“Yes. I want to get my ears pierced again.”
Mingyu held her breath as she placed the needle right where Wonwoo wanted her piercing. Thank God Doogi PD came over when he did otherwise Wonwoo might have bled herself to death.
The girls oh so desperately wanted to turn back. Chan didn’t like the concept of periods at all; she sat in the bathroom all day and just bled into the toilet while not forgetting to flush. Vernon would not stop going on social media and looking up makeup tutorials while Seungkwan went online to ask girls for boyfriend advice. Yes, she was still hung up on The Boyfriend Observation. Minghao simply wanted to b-boy again for she was afraid she would loose her skills because b-boying right now was so immensely painful. Mingyu was still brooding over the lie that Doogi PD told the press which explained why Seventeen wouldn’t appear for any event. Seokmin loved to do her nails; they were just too gosh darn pretty like her fingers. Jihoon turned into a yandere, in other words, she had a pretty face but was ready to chop off anyone’s head within a matter of seconds. Wonwoo was ready to become a cover girl, she nearly submitted her application, but the wifi went out because of Soonyoung’s excessive YouTube addiction. Soonyoung watched many, many, many, various styles of dance and proved to excel in all of them. Junhui got into sports such as badminton and volleyball and would constantly play with whoever was around at the time she was going to go to the practice studio. Jisoo just wanted her guitar back, but Jihoon wouldn’t let go. Jeonghan became the mother of the girls and cooked, cleaned, and paid the so called expenses. And Seungcheol, she was lazy as fuck.
The girls had a prayer circle every night to try to return back to normal.
One morning, as Junhui woke up early to head down to the practice studio to play volleyball, she noticed that her wrists weren’t as skinny as they used to be. She also noticed a rather tall bulge by her pelvis.
Junhui was a boy again.
He raced down the halls of the door while screaming his happiness to the world and ended in the living room where he saw the Christmas tree sparkling brightly.
“It’s a Christmas miracle!”
One by one, the boys left their rooms and made their way into the living room while being ever so grateful to not be boys anymore.
There was one girl who was the sorest though, and that was Wonwoo.
She, now he, loved being prettier than the nation’s most recognized idols. If only he could go back.
That Christmas, the boys dressed in their regular clothes again and gave away their clothes for another girl to have. In nicer terms, they gave back to the community.
The boys resumed their activities and continued prepping for their future comebacks as Mingyu let his anger unleash, claiming that he wasn’t as “disgyusting” as the fans proclaimed him to be.
But the hidden photos Wonwoo took when he was a pervert seemed to claim otherwise.
We keep it golden, it’s so bright. We’re drawing bold allegro lines–Glen Check (Paint it Gold)
Some stupid, pointless, Yoongi-fluff to alleviate the depressing atmosphere on this blog. Also: Sugamon as neighbors. Woot.
“Baek Yerin, I swear to god. Why do you have so much stuff?” you grit through your teeth as you carry another cardboard box packed full of Disney DVDs and VCRs. “Do you even watch any of these anymore?”
“Hey,” she shouts over her shoulders as she makes her way up the stairs in the apartment building, “I might want to watch them when I’m homesick.”
“That’s,” you grunt, hoisting the box up higher, “not good enough justification for making me carry all of your shit up three flights of stairs.”
“Oh stop being so grumpy,” she laughs a flight of stairs above you. “Focus on the positives, babe. Think about it, we’re finally moving into our own place!” she squeals and you can’t help but chuckle in agreement.
The two of you have been saving up for a place in Seoul since you were in high school, all the way back to schoolgirls in plaid skirts and big dreams hidden in legal pads. You scrimped by in college, subsisting off dehydrated cup noodles, working two jobs through the school year and three in the summer. And now that you’ve graduated, you finally have enough for a semi-decent apartment in Sinchon. Quarters are cramped, and not really much of an improvement over a college dorm room, but it’s more than you could’ve ever dreamed of. The great, romanticized step of independence, a sharp injection of adrenaline despite the universe’s forecast of entropy and confusion.
Message: Happy holidays! hope you enjoy this - I went with the prompt of Iris confessing her feelings before 2x18, and I tried to incorporate domesticity, cuddling, and a lil bit of jealousy. Also I love your recommended songs! I listened to them all on the same playlist for the fic. alsooo sorry for any typos or inconsistencies it is v late and i am v near the deadline. xox your secret santa
Iris never used to dream much. She might have had the occasional nightmare, sure, as any kid did, about going to school naked or fighting terrible monsters. But for the most part, when she slept, her brain successfully pressed the ‘off’ switch on itself and peaceful nothingness engulfed her until morning.
Then, of course, Eddie died.
The first night after the event - after blood bloomed from his chest, after she tried to cling to his still-warm corpse, after his body was swept away into some bullshit vortex - she’s in her old bedroom in her dad’s place, and is supposed to be knocked out for the next few hours at least, thanks to some pills Caitlin had knowingly given her. But she wakes up in a shock, the first dream she’s had in years clinging to her, Eddie’s blank eyes and cold skin still with her.
The dreams continue, with mostly the same structure. She’ll be in their old apartment and she’ll go to find Eddie, having woken in their bed without him. She finds him in the kitchen, or the living room, or about to leave for work, and she calls his name, and when he turns to face her, blood is already spreading across his chest.
She tries medication, hypnosis tapes, even goes to see a grief counselor for a while. But nothing heals the heart like time, and she goes about her life as if she isn’t waking each night with tears streaming down her cheeks and a shriek stuck in her throat.
Besides, it’s not like she’s the only one in pain. She’s barely seen Cisco or Caitlin in months, her dad wakes around with guilt like it’s a tangible thing, and Barry…Barry will barely look at her. When she does see him, she thinks that at least she can wear make-up to hide the bags under her eyes.
But Team Flash regroups, rebuilds. Life goes on. Eventually, Eddie no longer waits for her when she closes her eyes, only making a brief appearance when the new Wells comes along, with an awfully familiar face she supposes he can’t help.
The dreams don’t quite stop, though. They just…morph into something else entirely.
In these new dreams, she’ll wake in her own apartment, or even her dad’s place, and she’ll climb out of bed to the smell of breakfast being cooked, coffee being brewed. She’ll wander to the kitchen, the feeling of contentedness filling her up like a glowing light, and she’s only wearing a man’s shirt, buttoned haphazardly down to her thighs. She enters the kitchen, and there’s a man there, torso bare and facing away from her to the cooker. She pads over to him, and sun’s streaming through the window, and she’s ready to curl into him and-
And she wakes up, the pattern of freckles and unruly chestnut hair still vivid in her mind.
At first, she thinks she’s just getting confused. (Well, actually, her actual first instinct is to deny the dreams are even happening, but two weeks in, even she’s not that obtuse.) She’s used to the domesticity, and she’s a little bit lonely, and her subconscious is just inserting Barry into the fantasy because he’s her best friend. Then, as he and Patty become a real item, she think she’s just wanting what she can’t have.
Eventually, she has to come to the conclusion that her subconscious is a little faster at working things out than her actual mind.
But she tries not to think about it too much. Barry is with Patty, after all, and she wants him to be happy, no matter how much it hurts deep in her gut to think of Patty getting to wake up to the kind smile and warm coffee.
There’s other stuff going on, anyway: there’s more meta-humans to report on and stop, she’s working out her place in the team at STAR labs, and then, she finds out she has a mother and a brother. Dreams are hardly a priority when real life is eventful enough.
She’s in her own apartment, about to chuck a ready-meal into her microwave when she gets the text from her dad:
‘Bear n Patty broke up. im on shift 2nite can u check in on him?’
(One day, she’ll get her dad to no longer use text speak - it’s an ongoing battle of theirs.)
No more than fifteen minutes later, she’s outside her old home, having spent the entire car ride over telling herself that she’s sympathetic. She’s certainly not happy or pleased or excited by the news, definitely not.
It’s only after she presses the doorbell that she realises this will be the first time she and Barry have spent truly alone since her dreams began starring him.
She’s about to work herself up into a panic about that fact when the door opens, the echoes of the doorbell still ringing out, and Barry’s there, looking tired and only a little surprised at her appearance.
Iris steels herself mentally, slapping a smile on her face as she sings, “Movie night!” before he can ask what she’s doing here. She brandishes the DVD in one hand, and pushes past him into the house, not giving him the opportunity to make excuses or send her away. She’s well-versed in comforting Barry, has been ever since he was first brought to their house in the middle of the night, and she knows that he’ll say he wants to be alone when he definitely does not.
She’s a whirlwind around the house, putting in microwave popcorn and then slotting the disc into the DVD player, and then finding the comfiest blankets from the cupboard. Take that, Flash, you’re not the only one who can multitask.
They curl up on the sofa like old times, and the movie plays, though Iris can hardly concentrate with his arm behind her, resting on the back on the couch, and her knees curled up and leaning on his thigh. They’re been in this position since kids, through college, through her boyfriends and his girlfriends, so it absolutely shouldn’t be making her feel nervous, or her pulse feel quick.
“Joe told you, huh?” he asks, apropos of nothing, almost quiet enough that she could pretend she didn’t hear him.
But she twists her lips. “Yeah.” Then she tilts her head to look up at him, to ascertain his expression. “Is that okay?” She realises he hadn’t told her himself yet, and she feels a little cold at the thought of them growing that apart that he wouldn’t.
“I was going to text you,” he says, as if reading her thoughts. He sighs. “She figured out I was the Flash.”
Iris works hard to tamper the flare of jealousy that rises in her, the idea of Patty being the one to wait on rooftops as well as wait in bed-sheets. “Oh?” She asks lightly. “How did she react?”
“I think she might have been okay with it,” he says, looking at the TV screen, though Iris could not tell you any of the plot as she watches his expression. “I just- I realised she was great for me as just Barry, you know? I liked her, and she liked that side of me. I’m just not sure how she would’ve been with the Flash as a boyfriend.Or that she really understood all of me.” He makes a frustrated sound. “Does that sound stupid?”
“Not at all,” she says, perhaps a little too quickly. His gaze is still focused at the movie, though she can tell from his profile that he’s lost in thought, and she twists so she can place her hand on his knee to draw his attention. “Barry, I have every faith you’ll find someone who gets all the different parts of you. CSI and the Flash, clumsy dork and brave hero. Even the weird part of you that hates mint candy.”
“Yeah,” he says, finally looking straight at her as he echoes, “Someone.”
She opens her eyes slowly, eyelids heavy, and she’s in her dad’s place, which might be weird if this obviously wasn’t just another dream, another fantasy her subconscious can’t help but loop every time she shuts her eyes.
She throws off the covers and, yes, all according to pattern: she’s only wearing a guy’s shirt, plaid and big enough to drown her. She smells coffee and pancakes, and she knows what to do next, lips curled in a soft smile and eyes still hooded from sleepiness.
She pads down the stairs and into the kitchen, and the sight is as familiar as it is pleasing. The freckled bare back, the eggs frying, the sweats hanging down to his bare feet. Sometimes she’ll wake up at this point, but she isn’t surprised that the dream continues. She pads forward, feet light on the cold morning stone, arms outstretched and vision foggy.
“Iris?” She hears him say, and he sounds amused, and her subconscious has apparently perfected the tone of his voice.
She floats forward and nestles into his side, pulling his arm up and over her shoulders, humming with her eyes still half-closed.”Coffee?” She asks around a yawn.
He’s frowning at her, which he doesn’t usually. Usually he’s only too happy to oblige, having already made the coffee- but oh, there he is, keeping one arm around her while he uses the other to put a mug under the coffee machine and press the button. She makes a content sound that can only be compared to a purr, pressing her nose into his chest, positioning herself between the cooker and the warmth of Barry’s chest. He hands her the coffee and she sighs happily, curling her free hand around it.
She’s so warm, sleepy and content, that she continues with the dream, knowing her alarm will go off any minute, and she tilts her chin up to press her lips against Barry’s, gently moving them in a close-lipped, soft kiss.
He makes a small sound, almost like surprise, which is a weird change in the usual events, but then he reaches up to cup her face, and kisses back, and this is so much better than usual, so much more intense and real.
She wants this to be real so much her gut aches. But she’ll take what she can get while the dream continues, and she trails her hands up, up to curl into his scruffy hair, pressing her body into his, and he curls over her, and oh, maybe this is going to be one of those dreams-
But then he wrenches away, and she can’t help the small sound of annoyance. Dream Barry usually plays along, so why-
She opens her eyes properly, forcing them wide and focused as she takes in Barry, takes in the way she can actually see all the details of his face and the shock of his expression.
She drops her coffee as she realises that maybe, this isn’t her usual dream. That maybe, this isn’t a dream at all.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “You- I- I was supposed to be dreaming.”
Last night comes back in full, surround-sound, car-crash detail. They’d watched two more movies after the one Iris had brought, and Iris had fallen asleep on the couch. She vaguely remembers Barry helping her up, maybe even carrying her to bed? And he must have lent her one of his own shirts to sleep in since she didn’t have any pajamas here.
She just kissed Barry. Not in a dream, in real life. Fuck, indeed.
“You- you dream about kissing men in your kitchen a lot?” he asks, sounding a little more high-pitched than usual, and she supposes this is probably a lot to surprise him with first thing in the morning.
“Ah,” she says, and summons up all her bravery as she says, “No, not really. Just, um. Just about kissing you.”
He visibly swallows, and his lips twitch - possibly in a smile, but he’s obviously fighting with himself to keep his expression in check. “What does that mean?”
“Uh.” She goes for broke. “I guess it means that I’m really, selfishly, glad you broke up with Patty? And if you give me, like thirty seconds to brush my teeth, we can maybe kiss some more now that I’m properly awake?”
His answering smile is nearly blinding, and he doesn’t even give her two seconds before he cups her face and leans in to kiss her a proper good morning.
Tagged by the wonderful @avaleahblog THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE GETTING TAGGED!!!
Name/Nickname: Tess is my middle name. I don’t really have a nickname. I don’t go by it in real life though. Gender: F Star Sign: Gemini Height: 5’7 Hogwarts House: I have no idea. The bookworm group I guess? I read the books but I am not really “in” HP fandom so I can’t remember. Favorite Animal: Cats and Cephalopods. Or you combine the two and get a kitty with tentacles that shoots ink at you. Hours of Sleep: 5.47 on average according to my fitbit Dog or Cats? Prefer cats. I have two, Rocco the most perfect cat who has ever lived on earth, and Mrs. Pickles. She’s…. definitely a cat. Number of Blankets: One fuzzy blanket and a heating pad. Dream Trip: Not here? I would go literally anywhere given the opportunity. Except Saskatchewan. I fucking hate Saskatchewan. Dream Job: I’m living it right now. Honestly my job is great, I have freedom to come and go when I want, I make an OK wage, and I work with/for my best friend. I would not complain if I got paid more though. Current Time: 11:58 AM. Lunch! Birthday: June 4 Last Show I Watched: The last show that passed in front of my eyeballs…. I am not going to admit that to anyone. I am ashame. However, I am currently keeping up with Star Trek Discovery, Outlander, and Stranger Things 2. When Did I Create my Blog? Originally January 2016, but I deleted about year ago. This one has been running since then. Song Stuck in my Head: The We Will Rock you audio I reblogged from @jeffersonismywintersoldier last week. It’s fucking stuck there. Other Blogs: As ava said, we have a (very inactive) comic called @true-blue-comic-fo4. I also run @manfuranon with @fancyladssnacks and I have a place to reblog porny stuff I find inspiring called @tess-extra-nsfw. Oh plus @fatchickfitness where I never post because I don’t do fitness for more than about 15 seconds once a month. I should delete that. I also have a companion overreaction blog which I have recieved asks for and then I never once answered any. I should delete that too. And I’m in a reading group blog which I don’t post to. It’s kind of ridiculous actually. I also used to run @askthepaladin which went away when I deleted last year. It was a lot of fun and I am considering resurrecting it.
Why I Chose my URL: I like to keep tess attached to my url. It’s kind of my name so I don’t like to lose it. I used to be tess1978 which I kind of hated and then I was tessofthedumpsterville which was kind of clever but I have a lot of bad associations with it so I didn’t bring it back when I came back. Following: 211 Followers: 141 slowly creeping back up but not near where it was. I never really had that many though lol. Favorite Instrument: Tuba. IDK I’m not musical. What I’m Wearing: Skinny jeans, fur mukluks, and a purple cable knit sweater. Top 3 Fictional Universes I’d Like to Join: 1. The fictional universe in which I win the lottery. 2. Star Trek because I love modern conveniences 3. Whoverse…. I want to see the entire span of time and space.
Cas x Reader (Future!Cas) Warnings: language, angst
Summary: Y/N takes a first look at her journal.
A/N: This is part of a series! Read the other parts first! You can find them on the Master List!
You flipped through the journal until you could see a visual change in the appearance of the pages. It changed from crowded scribbles, notes on monsters and hunts, to your scrawling handwriting in neat lines. Each page was dated at the top.
The narrative entries began just a few weeks after the day when Zach had visited you and zapped you here into the future.
Sleepwalking was common after the war. No matter how the prefects would soothe the foreheads of anxious second-years once again afraid of the dark, no matter the amulets anxious parents hung around their surviving child’s neck, every other night quiet, dreaming feet would pad down winding staircases and across the stone floors of the castle. Sometimes they would talk or cry in the empty Great Hall. Sometimes their magic would go haywire and strong winds would gust through the corridors.
The castle, however, would always do its best to protect them, just has it had during the war. None of the sleepwalkers ever got caught in a trick stair, or wandered to close to a crumbling ledge where spells had blasted the stone wall away. None of them was ever forced to wake up in the dungeons where they and their friends had once been tortured. Hogwarts led them to secret courtyards with trickling waterfalls, or armchairs in front of a glowing fireplace, or the humming stained glass windows in one of the music parlors, as if to say, when they awoke, “See? You’re safe here now.”
A/N - WHOA hey guys! Guess who’s back?! It’s been like fifteen years and I’m really sorry, a LOT has been happening and I have had zero inspiration along with tons of writers block Anyways, I’m really not sure about this it’s basically all just back story for what I actually plan on writing, and I’m pretty tired so sorry for any mistakes. Love you guys! This isn’t a fluff or smut yet and this isn’t really a pairing thing yet and yeah idk what to label this as, aNYWAY
(Y/N)=Your Name (Y/A/N)=Your Avenger Name Warnings: Language, Emotional Trauma?
You quickly shot up in bed, panting heavily.
“okay.. just a dream.. It’s cool, you’re fine….” you muttered to yourself.
Once you got you’re breathing back to normal, you laid back down and tried to relax. Seconds felt like minutes, Minutes felt like hours, everything ached inside of you. All you could see was Bucky dying over and over. It was like a record skipping, except with video and audio. You finally gave up on trying to go back to sleep and sat up again, lightly knocking on the wall next to you.
“Steve..?” you paused for awhile, searching for any detection of the super soldier in the room next to you “Do you think you could come here for a minute.. Cap?”
There was a muffled groan and some rustling before your door was being opened a couple minutes later.
“Is it the dreams again?” He asked, padding over to you. You responded with a nod, patting the bed next to you and muttering an apology which Steve immediately brushed off “Hey, I know.. I miss him too.” he offered you a bottle of water before sitting next to you, pulling your body against him. “It’s not like we asked to be frozen though.”
You, Steve and Bucky all grew up together in Brooklyn. The best of friends, attached at the hips, completely inseparable. In fact you were so inseparable that after Steve went through the pain of becoming practically invincible, he managed to somehow weasel you in along side him by convincing Howard to test the serum on a female. You were with him through the Captain America tour experiences, helped him break out Bucky, assisted in battling Red Skull, and you were even there for the crash.
The only thing you wished you had missed out on was Buck’s death. It hit you harder than anything ever had before. He was your best friend and though you never wanted to admit to it, he was you first love interest, and potentially your only. Seeing him die wasn’t something you could just bounce back from. To add insult to injury you weren’t even able to properly mourn in a comfortable atmosphere, you were instead chucked from 1943 to 2013 into a world that was nothing like what you knew before.
It’s not “the future” that bothered you, in fact you loved the 2000’s and adapted quickly. What bothered you was going through it without Buck, being “forced” to join a group of superheros to save the world ((actually, that didn’t really bother you either, you felt like you were in a comic book and that was awesome but you liked to complain)). How could you be anything less than brave when so many people looked up to you?
When your recurring nightmare began it happened at least 3-5 times a week, and you’d wake up screaming and sobbing. But that was two years ago, now it only happened when you were excessively stressed out.
“Hey, you know we’re gonna be alright (Y/N)” Steve commented, nudging you with his elbow. “With both of us and Natasha? This winter soldier asshole doesn’t even stand a chance.”
“It was him. He looked right at me.. and he didn’t even know me”
“What the FUCK?!” You shouted, kicking your legs causing the guard to tense, and shoot you a warning ((or would be if you could see their face)) but you ignored them
Sam and Nat exchanged a look “How’s that even possible it was like 70 years ago.”
Steve tried to begin explaining the experiments Zola performed but you cut him off, not wanting to hear it.
“That can’t be Bucky, Steve! He fell off a fucking mountain for Christ’s sake!” You were enraged, this couldn’t be happening right now.
“(Y/N)..” Steve interjected, but Sam cleared his throat turning to the guards.
“We need to get a doctor here, if we don’t put pressure on that wound she’s going to bleed out in the truck.”
Steve squeezed your shoulder lightly but you stayed stone faced, staring straight ahead. The two of you, along with Sam and Maria were headed to take down HYDRA. Of course this also included potentially taking down Bucky. That obviously wasn’t exactly something you wanted to deal with.
Everything seemed to go by in a blur, you were fighting HYDRA agents left and right, headed towards your goal. You, Sam and Steve split off headed straight towards replacing the controller chips. You definitely didn’t expect to find anyone waiting for you, when you got to the chips. But now you were face to face with James Barnes. The two of you stared at each other for a moment too long as you tried to catch your breath.
“Buck…. It doesn’t have to be like this.” You still barely believed that this metal armed soldier standing in front of you was indeed your best friend. “This isn’t who you are. You’re being brainwashed.”
As soon as the words left your mouth the wind was knocked out of you as Bucky took you to the ground, causing you to momentarily lose contact with the rest of your team. The two of you fought each other off until you had successfully traded out the chip. You pressed your finger to the ear piece as you sprinted back finalise the replacement.
“Maria! Can you hear me?”
“Yes, you’re on!” She responded only slightly delayed. “You’ve got 30 seconds, (Y/A/N)!”
You spat blood, stumbling when Bucky shot you in the shoulder. “I’ve got it.” You avoided his next shots as you put in the chip. “Now, Hill!”
“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of there first!”
“There’s no time, I’ll be fine.” You panted sinking down and holding your wound, you weren’t actually sure you’d be fine, in fact this is probably where you would die. Holding on to the pole next to you, you tried your hardest to not be knocked completely off the helipad from the force of the explosion, and luckily you weren’t.
You stood up, finding Buck struggling under part of the structuring. “Steve are you safe?” You asked, making your way down to Bucky.
You heard Steve sigh at you “I’m with Nat. Are you okay? What’s up with Bucky?”
“Everything’s cool.” Your response was only slightly a lie, but you had no other answers as you stood before Buck. You grabbed him by his metal arm, dragging him out from under where he was trapped.
“It’s okay Bucky, this isn’t you..”
That was a mistake. As soon as he was freed he had you pinned down, knife to throat. “I don’t know you!” He shouted, the knife drawing some blood. “You’re my mission.”
You struggled, choking on your own blood “and I’m your friend!” You relaxed your body, huffing loudly “so I’m not hurting you. Finish your mission.” You stared up at him “I’m with you til the end of the line.”
Buck’s grip loosened and he stared at you, tons of emotions crossing his face. Before he could fully react there was a huge crash that sent you plummeting into the water below you two.
They’ve settled into a rather unexpected routine, Rose halfheartedly going back to her duties at Torchwood and the Doctor spending his days in the small outbuilding on Pete’s property to start growing their TARDIS.
An unsettled sort of peace has fallen between them, one that’s slowly made easier with each conversation about the actions and decision of the other Doctor (and this one), what transpired on the beach in Norway, and the little pieces of knowledge about what they’d experienced in the years since that terrible day at Canary Wharf.
Sometimes there are tears, sometimes words of anger or resentment, but little by little, soft smiles and eye-corner crinkles replace forehead creases and frowns. Little by little, laughter replaces uncomfortable silence. Until one day –
“Doctor, I’m moving back to my flat. Come live with me.”
“Oh, so I’m the Doctor now?”
(It’s accompanied with a pleased click of the tongue and a quickly beating heart wondering, Does she want me?)
(To which she rolls her eyes and takes his hand thinking, I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.)
– they move from the mansion to her flat, and for a while, he sleeps in the guest room. But it’s easier, now, less complicated than before. It’s like a weight has been taken off their shoulders, and they’re content to let things progress naturally, to tentatively try out this new life on the slow path.
Until one morning, the Doctor’s feeling a buzz from the aftermath of a pleasant dream, and he pads into the kitchen to find Rose, hair mussed from sleep, wearing an oversized t-shirt with her legs on tantalizing display, and he simply can’t help the way his body gravitates to hers, the way his fingers push aside her hair, and the way his lips graze over the side of her neck.
It’s the natural course of things.
And when she shudders under his touch and turns to him with heavy-lidded eyes that flick to his lips every few seconds, he simply can’t help the way he leans down and presses his lips to hers. Rose’s soft gasp of surprise turns into a satisfied moan that spurs him onward, deepening the kiss, while pulling her close, tangling one hand into her hair and securing the other around her back.
“Finally,” he whispers, placing soft kisses along her jaw.
“I thought you’d never,” she whispers back.
Time suspends for them in this moment, acceptance, forgiveness, and love colliding as one, and they revel in the significant shift in the path they’ve chosen to take together.
It’s the absence of Aurora’s physical being that makes Maleficent wake up. Chilled, bereft of what she expects to find upon opening her eyes, she can’t help but frown, the back of one of her hands rubbing along her cheek. “‘Rora?” she mumbles, sitting up, drawing her wings in close, rustling along the bed covers.
She had had a dream…
Quiet footsteps pad closer, from the direction of the window. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” Aurora’s soft voice smiles, her body settling down next to Maleficent. “I just couldn’t sleep.”
Smiling, Maleficent can’t help but kiss the hand that cups her face.
“But I have to say,” Aurora continues, still smiling but shifting forward to replace her hand with her lips along the other woman’s sharp cheekbone, moving until she finds Maleficent’s lips with her own, “It’s not often you actually fall asleep here, on this bed.”
Maleficent reaches out, her hands cupping Aurora’s shoulder blades as their knees press together. Able to see easier in the dark than her lover can, she doesn’t hesitant to kiss her back, only pulling back with a laugh when Aurora’s hand hits one of her horns instead of threading through her hair as she probably hoped to. “I had a long day,” she offers once they’d calmed, “And it certainly showed in my dreams!”
“Yes?” Leaning forward to rest her forehead against Maleficent’s, Aurora’s voice is still full of a smile. She glides her fingers down Maleficent’s head and neck and shoulder, tangling in the fine feathers caped around Maleficent’s body; knowing how much pressure and touch they can take, she smiles adoringly, unable to keep a soft laugh back when what suspiciously sounds like purring coming from deep within the faerie’s chest starts up.
Plush lips press into Aurora’s forehead, and with barely any direction, Aurora finds herself lying on the bed, curled into Maleficent’s body with the other woman’s arms wrapped around her. Their legs are tangled, Maleficent’s wings pushed back, but Aurora keeps herself from querying if the other woman is comfortable - she’d learned earlier on that Maleficent never suffered any discomfort for long.
“You…” And it’s Aurora’s turn to hear a smile in her lover’s voice, the faerie nuzzling along her cheek before pressing their lips together again, her hand mapping out the swell and dip of Aurora’s waist and hip, “Were in the Moors with me.”
“With you?” Aurora kisses her.
As if she is trying to sound cross, Maleficent taps her waist. “Yes, with me.” She won’t ever tell anyone, but she loves these midnight talks with her Aurora. They’re deeper, raw, laying everything bare. However, unsure now, as she watches the blonde’s eyes gaze at her in the dark, she lowers her voice, sighing as Aurora’s hand tickles her ear. “You were flying. Like I do.”
“With you?” Aurora asks again. Her fingertips caress the sharp point of Maleficent’s ear, sliding down to stroke along Maleficent’s cheek and jaw.
“No.” Shaking her head imperceptibly, Maleficent’s lips curve up as Aurora squirms from what she’s doing along her hip, “Like me. You had wings. Of your own.”
A small laugh bubbles out of Aurora’s mouth. “Were they bird-like, like yours?”
“No!” And Aurora’s laughing, hiding her face in Maleficent’s neck after she moves enough to let Aurora worm her way in. “Maleficent…”
A strong hand cups her side, Maleficent’s leg pushing between Aurora’s as if to curve around and pull her closer. “I’m teasing.” The faerie’s lips brush along her jaw. “You were beautiful, and they were glistening white, like dove wings.”
Aurora can’t help but smile, so broadly and widely she knows Maleficent must feel it. “Like an angel?”
At that, Maleficent huffs. “Like a dove,” she murmurs, adding her fingernails to her strokes up and down Aurora’s side, catching at the thin fabric of her nightdress. “Like my dove.”
“Your dove,” Aurora hmms, repeating, once again finding the softness of Maleficent’s feathers, nipping gently at the white, porcelain neck of her faerie, “I think I like the sound of that.”
“Then that is what I shall call you,” Maleficent answers, finding Aurora’s mouth again, purring as she melts into her, “Because that is, without a doubt, what you are. My dove.”
“I really think I like you saying that,” Aurora manages to murmur before she melts again, sighing satisfactorily when Maleficent rolls over on top of her, her wings surrounding them both and making her heart skip a beat at how completely Maleficent possesses her, “I really think I like that very much.”
Over her, already focused on drawing Aurora’s tongue into her mouth as Aurora’s body reaches up to meet hers, Maleficent can’t help but think - no, know - she likes it too.