head bow wrap

Cuckoo’s Flight

I wanted to write a fic in which Belle meets season 1 Gold and they screw their brains out.  Unfortunately my own brain wanted to take its time over the set-up, so it ended up way longer than I’d planned.  Therefore it’s no longer a one-shot, but a five-chapter fic.  However, the smut definitely happens, because I’ve written it :)  Overall rating E (obvs, it’s me) but this chapter T

AO3 link

She wasn’t sure how it had happened.

They’d been telling her she was mad for years, but she didn’t feel it.  Perhaps that was the drugs they kept her on, but she didn’t think so.  Besides, she had stopped taking those some time ago, pushing them into the side of her cheek and waiting until the severe nurse who brought them to her twice a day nodded and left, then stashing them under her mattress until she could slip them down the drain in the showers.  Coming off the meds had made her brain clearer, her thoughts more coherent.  It didn’t help with the dreams, but no one believed those anyway.  Perhaps she really was mad.

She shook her head, walking quickly with her head bowed and her arms wrapped around herself, the cold air exhilarating on her skin after so long staring at the same four walls.  Dusk had fallen, and the streets were quiet, but she was still attracting some curious looks, dressed as she was, and she quickened her pace.  Dr Hopper had given her a bag with some clothes and shoes and some money, and told her she was free to go.  She still didn’t know why, and from the stricken look on his face, he wasn’t sure either.

Keep reading

Title:  My Lies, Your Worth
Part:  41

First  l  Previous  l  Next

There was a conversation Shougo and he had once about fears and why they exist.  They talked about why they’re hard to overcome and why they’re crippling.  It had been a deep talk they shared as they sat on their small balcony.  Chilling wind had bit their skin as they licked each other’s wounds.  Haizaki would purposefully sting him with peroxide; Kise would rip plasters off of Shougo’s skin in retaliation.  It had been an exhausting night.  Most nights were since becoming Masaomi’s bitches.

Both of them were worked hard.  Shougo’s hands would bleed and ache and keep him awake at night from working on too many forgeries.  Those nights Kise would stay awake too, overwhelmed with guilt until Shougo pressed up against him with kisses pressed to bruised shoulders.

They didn’t talk about it.  Kise didn’t want to talk about it so they talked about other things instead.  Like how fear is about self-preservation—how fear inspires the best and worst in humanity.  They talked about heroes and cowards and how they take fear and respond to it.

Keep reading

'Queen of Hearts' ch.19

These dialogue heavy/emotional chapters are always the hardest to let go because they never feel fully finished. There’s always something that can be tweaked; a word, a phrase, a detail to obsess over and hope is the correct choice. But it’s Tuesday and, it’s done, so it’s yours. 

Enjoy! And please let me know what you think! 

QoH Masterlist

new chapter can be read at ff.net or ao3 

or behind the cut:

Keep reading

Out of the Ashes, Let the Rain Fall

Out of the Ashes, part 16/?
Rose Tyler, human!Tenth Doctor (AU)

Rose Tyler is used to being alone, having learned the hard way that, eventually, everyone disappears.  After losing the one person she dared to believe wouldn’t leave her, she stops trying to believe that anything will last.  She’s determined that no one will hurt her or her son again.

Genres: hurt/comfort/romance
Rating: teen
Beta: rudennotgingr

tumblr A03

From the time James called her, Rose functioned on autopilot. She wasn’t entirely sure what she said to Sarah Jane, but apparently it was sufficient, because she was standing outside waiting when his blue ford pulled into the lot. She got in the back, holding Ian’s hand while words like “appendicitis” and “routine surgery” filtered through the haze. At the hospital, her hand shook as she tried to fill out the necessary paperwork, until a hand gently took the pen from her and guided her to a chair. Then Ian was in her lap, his face buried in her neck, and she was answering standard identification questions about her son automatically until a nurse called his name. A doctor came rushing into the room almost immediately, and Rose barely registered a pretty woman about her own age examining Ian.  He looked so small and scared, and he held onto her hand so tightly.  Then consent forms were thrust at her and the doctor was giving an explanation about the procedure that didn’t quite puncture her cloud of detachment.  Flashbacks to her mother’s various treatments when she was a teenager bombarded her as she kissed Ian before he was taken away to be prepped for surgery.

“I don’t know what you were playing at,” the doctor snapped as she snatched the signed consent forms and handed them off to a nurse.  “He should have been in here as soon as the pain started.”

“I–I didn’t know,” she stammered, reeling back into something warm and solid, and a firm hand gripped her arm, keeping her steady and upright.

“Then maybe you should have been paying better attention,” the doctor suggested harshly, and Rose’s stomach churned.

“Maybe you should focus on your job,” another voice suggested in a tone that left no room for argument.

Keep reading