#author: crossinginstyle

[woodelf68]

TEA RECS 2021

(Sorry for the long post, tumblr isn’t letting me put a “read more” cut in.)

FLUFF

Family – Spinner by woodelf68, A Bear In Need of Rescue by @byrneinggold

Comfort – Lost and Found by @worryinglyinnocent

Fix-It – Love Is Purple by @xiolaperry, A Life for a Life by @paradigmparadoxical

Reunion – Finding You by @silwenworld

Best Child Fic (fluffy fic centered on children in the Rumbelle family) – Best Beloveds by woodelf68, Announcement by @jackabelle73

SMUT

Kink – All I Have by @cannibalisticshadows

Comedy –True Lust by @junoinferno

Best First Time – Birthday by @crossinginstyle

PWP – Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out by woodelf68, The Spirit of the Trees by woodelf68, I Want To Watch by Scarletstar1

ANGST

Death – Believe or Leave by @worryinglyinnocent

ROMANCE

Best Date (Overall) – Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out by woodelf68

Best Courtship – Roses On The Doorstep by @worryinglyinnocent

Best First Meeting – The Spirit of the Trees by woodelf68

Best Bathing Scene – Making a Splash by @ifishouldvanish

GENERAL AWARDS

Best One-Shot – Believe or Leavy by @worryinglyinnocent, Distractions by @thestraggletag

Best Drabble – Getting Ideas by @xiolaperry

Best Post-Ep Fic – A Life For A Life by paradigmparadoxical

Best Comedy Fic – Animal Magnetism by @worryinglyinnocent, A Bear In Need of Rescue by @byrneinggold

Best Movie AU – A Thrill of Hope by ishtarelisheba, What You’d Thought Lost Is There To Be Found by @deliriumsdelight7

Best TV Show AU – The Game by @thestraggletag, A Funny Girl by @shakespeareanhoneybadgers

Best AU Inspired By Other Media (including but not restricted to video games, musicals/plays, and graphic novels)

Best Historical AU – You’ve Really Got A Hold On Me by @crossinginstyle

Best AU – Spinner by woodelf68, Rally Cap by @halfwayinlight

Best AU!OUAT – Out of Time by @worryinglyinnocent, In Another Life by @worryinglyinnocent

Best Series – Precious Moments by @jackabelle73, The Floofy ‘Verse by woodelf68

Best Novel Length Fic (does not have to be finished, but must be a minimum of 40k words to qualify)

Best Holiday Fic – A Thrill of Hope by ishtarelisheba,  What You’d Thought Lost Is There To Be Found by @deliriumsdelight7​

Best Remix – Our Masks by @lotus0kid

Best Crossover Fic –  Afternoon in Soho by @barpurplewrites, Coleslaw and Daggers by @darcyfarrow2005

Best Dark Castle – I Want To Watch by Scarletstar1, Animal Magnetism by @worryinglyinnocent

Best Storybrooke – Fresh Start by @joylee56

SPECIAL CATEGORIES

Best Rumbelle Poly Ship (ex: Golden Swan Beauty, Mad Golden Beauty)

Best Background Swanfire –  What You’d Thought Lost Is There To Be Found by @deliriumsdelight7​

Best Crack!Fic – He Thought It Said Satan by @idesignedthefjords, Everyone Needs A Hobby by woodelf68, How Did You Two Get Together by @barpurplewrites

Best Supernatural – The Princess of Avonlea by @gwenore

Best Creature AU – The Spirit of the Trees by woodelf68, All I Have by @cannibalisticshadows

Best Unexpected Twist – Finding You by @silwenworld

Best Bobby Squared (a fic featuring more than one Bobby character, including multiple instances of Gold and/or Rumple)

Forgotten Gem (a fic completed more than three (3) years ago, that you feel has been overlooked) – Civilised Existence by amuseoffyre

EVENTS

(All fics in these categories are limited to 2020 events only.)

Rumbelle Secret Santa – Three Appointments and a Wedding by @thestraggletag

Rumbelle Christmas in July – Fresh Start @joylee56, Dark Spring by @nerdrumple, A Truth for a Truth: A Study In Confusion by silwenworld

Fluffapalooza – Love Is Purple by @xiolaperry

Monthly Rumbelle (Non-smut) – In Another Life by @worryinglyinnocent, A Flash of Imp-spiration by @worryinglyinnocent, Chocolate Cake and Chocolate Roses by @byrneinggold, Lost and Found by @worryinglyinnocent, The Kelpie by @worryinglyinnocent

Monthly Rumbelle (Smut) – Steamed Up by @worryinglyinnocent, Off The Deep End by @byrneinggold

Rumbelle is Hope – Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out by woodelf68

CHARACTER AWARDS

Best Dark One!Belle – Masters of Destiny by @deliriumsdelight7

Best AU Belle – Distractions by @thestraggletag,  Spinner by woodelf68

Best Spinner!Rumple –  Masters of Destiny by @deliriumsdelight7​, Her Angel by @kelyon

Best Baelfire/Neal – Masters of Destiny by @deliriumsdelight7, Rally Cap by halfwayinlight

Best Gideon – Spinner by woodelf68

ART

Best Fan Art – Mr. Gold sitting on wall edge with cane by @vayuvayu, Rumpelstiltskin and Belle embracing (gold dress/blue coat) by @vayuvayu

Best Cover Art – A Thrill of Hope by ishtarelisheba

Best Comic/Graphic Novel – “Love Letters” by @dekayingtree

Best Artist – @vayuvayu, @dekayingtree

- BEST AUTHOR – @nerdrumple

- BEST NEW AUTHOR – @deliriumsdelight7

- BEST RUMBELLE FIC – Fresh Start by @joylee56, Dark Spring by @nerdrumple

- BEST ANYELLE FIC – Breaking Cycles by @deliriumsdelight7, A Safe Place To Land by @deliriumsdelight7

- Newbie Spotlight - deliriumsdelight7

[rochibolettieri]

Let’s talk about writers and fanfiction

Over the past weeks I saw a lot of writers in my dash receiving tons of nasty anons criticizing their style of writing, writers I really  appreciate even if they don’t know me. Then came the plagiarism thing, so i decided to write a few things about the matter (forget my English, is not my first language 🙃)

I have to be honest, a year and a half ago, I thought of fanfiction as a silly thing until I decided to give it a try and read and definitely changed my mind. I have no idea how to write fiction is, the only approach I have about the subject is the journalistic writing I have to do for school and even if it’s different, I get that the feeling of posting something you’ve done can be scary, nerve-racking, gives you a lot of anxiety. Will people like it? Is it a silly thing to post? What if I said something wrong, if I’m misunderstood?

What I intend to say with this, is that it takes a lot of courage to publish something so intimate, something to which you dedicated a lot of time, effort and what you did with love, and also, for free. And I say intimate because I firmly believe that when writing fiction, a part of each writer appears there, a piece of how they are, what they think, their believes. As for example in the last chapter of BTY. I don’t know @balfeheughlywed , we never talked but I read a post recently about how that chapter meant for her to be a love letter to motherhood and it perfectly reflects her intention while mixing it with the story (beautiful chapter btw, I end up crying when Jamie started to talk to their bairn)

When it comes to feelings, many times the way to channel them is through writing. Other times it is through music, painting, dancing, etc. there are a lot of ways to express them, but since we are talking about written stories, let's keep it that way. I think what Lauren did was something beautiful, I’m not a mother but I thought of my mom and what she has been through, and it must have been a terrible yet beautiful experience. Other author I can think of right now is @whiskynottea with Death dreams. Her writing there is so beautiful yet so painful because she talks about things that happens in the real life. I sort of know how it is to live with someone suffering depression and let me tell you, it breaks your heart. Her portrayal of Claire as the partner of the one suffering, and Jamie as the depressed one seems so real, like you can feel what they feel in every chapter, and is a clever decision to add topics maybe not everyone is brave enough to talk about, be it depression, abortion, PTSD, miscarriages, some terminal disease…

Also, I want to comment on the subject of plagiarism. Since the beginning of last year I read OL fanfiction, and I can *shamefully* say that I read a lot, much more than all the books I have on my shelf that I didn’t read yet. And in many cases things are repeated, such as the meeting of the main characters, how they fall in love, the use of quotes from the original books, even the personalities of the characters involved. That doesn’t mean to plagiarize anyone’s work, in my opinion, it’s because within this community, many people think about the characters in a way (i.e. Frank being an abusive sexist who cheats on his partner and doesn’t care), many topics are repeated (Jamie being librarian, Claire being a doctor), what really changes is how each one writes a story based on it, and among everything I read, it's always different, because as everyone is different, so is their writing.

But also, we are in 2019 guys, I doubt there’s something that hasn’t been invented yet, everything gets recycled, so what’s the point in blaming people for writing similar things? Also, what a waste of time to be searching some specific quote of a fic and compare it with another one, i’m tired with only think about it.

For me, writing it’s a very difficult thing to achieve since I suck at words and have no idea how to express my feelings/what I want to say properly (you are seeing that now, haha). But these people out there who week after week transmit magic with each chapter, who write them in such a poetic way, research enough to give a quality content, deserve nothing but praise. If you don’t like what they write, there is only one thing to do, don’t read it. And if you have nothing good to say, it is better to say nothing. There is no reason to be filling their inbox with horrible comments, insults, pointing their mistakes if there’s no a constructive reason behind. Im always saying this but we don´t know what’s in each other lives, so maybe by leaving those things, you’re ruining their day.

There is a huge variety of styles to choose from, so it's a matter of looking for what you like and keep going. There are stories that are simpler to read, others more complicated, with metaphors, more description, maybe more elaborated (I don’t say that the simple ones are bad, but they are easier to read, at least for me, and I like it), some have shorter chapters, others longer. There are about J/C, about secondary characters, one shoots, multichapters, fluffy, angsty, canon divergence, AU... And luckily, the number of people who dare to write their own stories grows day by day, and the ones we already know improves every week, with every new story so, why don’t we go for kindness, good comments, and constructive criticism instead of sending hateful inboxes?

For writers: I can’t express how much happiness you give me every day, how I improved my English since I started reading. Reading every story makes me understand how you write the characters we love (and hate), how you understand them, how can you put them in different scenarios, different eras, in which they are presidents, florists, doctors, professors, businessmen, swimmers, make them go through difficult times, beautiful ones, and that so and all you make them shine. The possibilities you have are immense and I can’t wait to read everything they have to offer, because I’m sure is going to be a masterpiece. I know is easier said than done but it’s better to focus in the ones who really cares for the time you put into this, who waits impatiently for a sneak peak, an entire chapter, background information about your story, pics, whatever. Haters gonna hate and I personally believe it had nothing to do with you, they are just mean people, maybe bored ones who thinks is funny to send those kind of messages and don’t really care if they are hurting you in the process. Keep doing your thing, you are free to do it and there are a lot of people willing to read whatever you do.

Thank you for being brave enough to share a piece of you, of your creativity and sorry for being lazy and sometimes forget to leave a comment, or read the chapters 657946 years later, believe me when I say I do love everything you write and I end up laughing, crying, jumping in my bed when some characters kiss for the first time after a long slow burn, and sometimes completely shooked at the end of every chapter and wanting for more ❤️❤️❤️

@imagineclaireandjamie @missclairebelle @notevenjokingfic @abbydebeaupreposts @kalendraashtar  @jmoonrise  @sassenachwaffles @lenny9987 @curlsgetdemgurls @bonniebird17 @wunderlichkind @julesbeauchamp @sassenachwriter @ladyviolethummingbird @jack-andthestalk @balfeheughlywed @claryclark @thatsoccercoach @kkruml @whiskynottea @laythornmuse @magnoliasinbloom @written-rebellion @phaedrecameron @takemeawaytocamelot @thefraserwitch @gotham-ruaidh @mybeautifuldecay @mo-nighean-rouge @monigheandonn1743 @suhailauniverse @anoutlandishfanfic @owlish-peacock36 @devaigh @holdhertightandsayhername @dancinginadaydream @crossinginstyle (i’m sorry if i forgot someone 🙏🏼) 

I hope this makes sense since I’m writing this with the help of google translator bc I’m tired, sleepy and my English sucks lately 😊

[rumbelle-ficbrarian-blog]

Hi ! Which is your fav kind of AU and which of your own writing it's your fav.

Hi Anon! What a sweet question

My favourite kind of AU is whatever comes next out of @mariequitecontrarie‘s lovely head. Right now, it’s “supposedly unrequited love” and “GOLD IS A DUMBASS who means well” and also Belle being badass. Yes.

Another great author / au is @crossinginstyle & her 1960s au, You Really Got a Hold On Me. It’s funny, awkward, and so sweet.

And btw this list is absolutely in no order.

But also, I really love @smartgirlsaremean and ALL of her AUs ever. She writes so well, and the fandom is lucky to have her.

Also, since Marie is making me be realistic, I do really love childhood sweetheart AUs.

[thestraggletag]

T.E.A. Rec List Part Two

These are all golden, please go read the ones you missed and nominate! Nominate like the wind!

List is divided into two posts so the damn links show up!

SPECIAL CATEGORIES

Best Drama

Skin Deep by bookwormchocaholic

Thirty, Flirty and Thriving by bookwormchocaholic

Always One More Time by Bad_Faery

Roll in the Hay by Little_Inkstone

Not Another Cinderella Story by Hikari_no_Chibi

Best Supernatural

His eyes. by Gwenore

Imp zoo by Gwenore

Beneath the Skin. by Gwenore

Dominion by Gwenore

Crocodile Tears by cannibalisticshadows

Accidents by BarPurple

Monsterous Visage by BarPurple

Best Trope

Sleeping Arrangements by TheStraggletag

Come Slowly by nerdrumple

EVENTS

(All fics in this category are limited to 2017 only)

Rumbelle Secret Santa

Not Another Cinderella Story by Hikari_no_Chibi

The Safest Place by TheStraggletag  

Stained!Glass Weaver and Belle by C0njidraws

Ghosts in the Snow by theoneandonlylittlebird

Rumbelle Christmas in July

The Politician's Heart by theoneandonlylittlebird

Mistaken Identity by TheStraggletag

Wretched Summer by nerdrumple

Her Heart by lotus0kid

Rumbelle Revelry

The Haunted Man by nerdrumple

La Chacarita by TheStraggletag

May Day Menagerie

The Offering by TheStraggletag

Cymar  by @handwithquill

Not Today by ishtarelisheba

Monthly Rumbelle (Non-smut)

Best Beloveds by Woodelf68

Spinner by Woodelf68

Monthly Rumbelle (Smut)

A Study in Sensation by BarPurple

All Through the Night by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)

Laid Bare by Little_Inkstone

CHARACTER AWARDS

Best Belle

The Boston Hour by ifishouldvanish

In The Dark by Woodelf68

Mnyama by CrossingInStyle

Skin Deep by bookwormchocaholic

Always One More Time by Bad_Faery

Mr. Gold's Personal Assistant by cannibalisticshadows

Clasped To Your Heart by AMidnightDreary

Best Dark One

Skin Deep by bookwormchocaholic

Mr. Gold's Personal Assistant by cannibalisticshadows

The Safest Place by TheStraggletag

True Nature by TheStraggletag

Best Mr. Gold

The Boston Hour by ifishouldvanish

Always One More Time by Bad_Faery

Best Spinner!Rumple

Roll in the Hay by Little_Inkstone

Best Woobie!Rum

The Boston Hour by ifishouldvanish

Alterations by ifishouldvanish

Mnyama by CrossingInStyle

Always One More Time by Bad_Faery

Best Rumbelle Child

Mini-Me by MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330)

Best Beloveds by Woodelf68

The Safest Place by TheStraggletag

ART

Best Fan Art

Stained!Glass Weaver and Belle by C0njidraws

Best Comic/Graphic Novel

Love is still purple by @delintthedarkone

BEST AUTHOR

@nerdrumple​

@ishtarelisheba

@ifishouldvanish

@crossinginstyle

@bookwormchocaholic

BEST RUMBELLE FIC

Mnyama by CrossingInStyle

Gold in the Afternoon by nerdrumple

Always One More Time by Bad_Faery

The Boston Hour by ifishouldvanish

Not Another Cinderella Story by Hikari_no_Chibi

BEST ANYELLE FIC

Heal by Evilsnowswan

Morning Glory by MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330)  

The Offering by TheStraggletag

Not Today by ishtarelisheba

[scapegrace74-blog]

Many thanks for the tag, and your support @wickedgoodbooks, as well as @holdhertightandsayhername and @lady-o-ren and @gotham-ruaidh, who made a new writer feel welcome.

Authors whose work got me through this year include @crossinginstyle, @magnoliasinbloom, @cellardoor17, @philtstone, @desperationandgin, @isitgintimeyet, @isthisclever, @fierceweebadger, @bonnie-wee-swordsman, @clandonnachaidh, @ladyviolethummingbird and JRC20, catrinwrites, Counting-the-Stars, HillyHerself, luvmylonglife, JeSuisPrest, whisky-and-jazz, the2ofusnow, balfey, anotherplaceintime, and countless others. Thank you!

A message to all the fanfic writers: Thanks for sharing your creativity with us during this time when we needed it most. It has been a tough year for most with everything going on in the world and droughtlander. I wanted to post this message to show my appreciation for their hard work and beautiful imagination in sharing their art. I'd like to start this thread on this wonderful site that gives the writers a platform. Tag a fanfic writer to show your appreciation. Thanks LL and Happy New Year!

We love this idea!

Fandom, please feel free to reblog this and shout out some of your favorites authors and more! We’d also like to open this thread up to ALL forms of fan art, because sometimes writing isn’t the only way to express all our feels! 

[killingkueen]

Home

For @crossinginstyle​, who wanted an Outlander AU

You were great, and I had so much fun. I’m so, so sorry that this is a concept I’m more comfortable reading than writing. I hope you still enjoy :D

There is some slight dub-con. Also vague but obvious mentions of sexual assault. 

Rating: M

Here on AO3

It was probably the rain that woke her up. It was odd; she didn’t remember falling asleep (does anyone really remember such a thing?) but there she was, on her side, staring blurrily at the weeds around her. She felt the curious sensation of water rolling sideways across her face, and she had the wild thought that she was lucky it was only drizzling or she might have drowned where she lay.

She tried to sit up, grimacing as pain throbbed behind her eyes. Giving up, she merely rolled over, afraid she’d vomit as the world went a little sideways. Belle took a deep breath through her mouth, trying to push down the panic that was bubbling right below her skin.

Even if she hadn’t just awoken, even if all she felt was the uncomfortable, clinging sensation of wet clothes against her skin, the pain is what sealed it: this was not a dream.

Belle French, head librarian of Storybrooke, hadn’t thought it strange that the book wasn’t on her order sheet, nor had she bat an eye when there was no author or publisher or even a copyright page to speak of. Belle had just assumed that it had been a self-published freebee, a thank you from the company for ordering from them as consistently as she did. It wasn’t unheard of for her to be sent samples, after all.

It was a handsome book, and maybe that’s what should have raised her suspicions in the first place: dark leather and pages that were thick and smooth, but not glossy. The title, Once Upon a Time, was written in an elegant gold script. She had set it down on her desk so she could look through it properly later, and didn’t think about it for the rest of day.

Belle had felt so strange as she entered the new books into the system, as she shelved and checked out and greeted. Something was nagging her as if she had forgotten about an appointment, or if she were wearing two different shoes.

The feeling quieted when she closed the door to her office. It vanished when she picked up the book she had left by her desktop. She opened the pages at random.

Her world went white.

For all it was raining wherever she was now, it hadn’t been in Storybrooke. None of that dark and stormy night nonsense, no lightning strikes, no giant green portals opening in the ground below her feet. That’s what annoyed her the most—it had otherwise been such anormal day. All she had done was open a book (on her afternoon break, no less), and then she had been pulled into—what looked like a forest.

Which was…fine. It was mostly fine.

Only, she was wearing her heels (the red pumps with the peep toe that matched her belt) and she could feel them start to sink into the soft undergrowth of the forest. Her lacy blue dress hardly protected her from the soft rain that was falling, not to mention there wasn’t a path that she could see, and the sun wasn’t out, and she had no god damned clue how any of this had happened.

But if anyone could put on a brave face, it was Belle.

Until the knight found her.

Now she was more lost than ever, stumbling blindly, desperately looking for a path, her shoes long gone and her pantyhose wrapped around a nasty cut to her palm. The throbbing pain her head had abated, at least, but the rain hadn’t stopped.

There was little else she could do but keep walking.

Belle let out a sharp hiss and she stepped on a sharp rock. Luckily, they were few and far between as the constant, if small, rainfall had softened the ground. She leaned against the rough bark of a tree as she ran her fingers over her muddy foot.

“Miss, are you alright?”

With a high-pitched squeal, Belle spun around, only to overbalance on her one leg. She fell to her knees, arms flying out to soften her fall. Quick as she could, she scrambled back to her feet, clawing for the trunk and ignoring how the sudden movement left her feeling entirely too light-headed.

“No, no no no, I’m sorry,” the voice said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Finally, her eyes landed on the speaker. She blinked, rubbing her hands over her face, wondering if she was seeing him correctly.

In front of her, about ten feet away, was a boy. An old boy. A teenager. He had on a thick cloak over a worn shirt and trousers, his clothes various shades of brown. His hair was dark and messy, the parts that stuck out of his hood stringy and wet with rain. He couldn’t have been more than a hair shorter than she was.

“Are you alright?” he asked again. His hands were raised, his palms to her. He didn’t come any closer.

“M’fine,” Belle said, her voice too breathy for her liking.

He frowned, not believing her. “You were headed that way?” he asked, chin pointed in the direction Belle had been going. He didn’t wait for a reply: “You’ll get to the main road if you keep going that way. It’ll lead towards the inn,” he said.

Belle bit her lip. An inn. Surely that was a good idea?

“That’s around where the knights are stationed,” he said.

Belle choked on her breath, pressing further into the trunk.

The boy nodded as if expecting that reaction.

“I know what it means,” he said softly, risking a step closer to her. “When a woman is alone in the woods with ripped clothes, hiding. You could home with me. My papa won’t hurt you like that.”

Belle swallowed. She studied the boy, his eyes earnest, his face pulled into such grave sincerity that she wasn’t sure if he really was as young as she had first thought.

“Your papa,” she said finally, voice flat.

He nodded eagerly. “He walks with a staff—if you got scared and wanted to run, he couldn’t catch you.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in her chest. If his father was even half as earnest and kind as this boy was, she’s pretty certain she’d be in good hands.

“My home is away from the village—away from the inn. It’s that way.” He gestured in a different direction from before. “It’d at least be somewhere dry.”

“I like the sound of somewhere dry,” she admitted. “Okay; I’ll go with you.”

His serious face melted into a sweet, boyish smile, the toothy grin somehow putting Belle more at ease than anything he had said before. Taking her acquiescence as permission to approach her, he started pulling at the clasp to his cloak. Despite her half-hearted protests, he draped the warm fabric over her shoulders.

Belle hadn’t realized just how chilled she had become. All at once her feet felt as heavy as cinderblocks, her head was still aching, and she pulled the cloak tighter around her. It was good that this boy had found her when he did.

“What’s your name?”

“Baelfire, miss,” he said with a smile. Up close, she could see a splatter of freckles across his nose, his eyes a deep, deep brown. “Son of Rumplestiltskin, the Spinner.”

“Rumplestiltskin?”

“Uh-huh.” His smile dimmed somewhat. “Have you heard of him?”

“It’s an odd name, I guess,” she said, biting her lip.

It was familiar too, though something told her that no, as much as she knew the story of the magical imp who could turn straw into gold, this was not that man. This was not that story. For one, she was pretty sure the imp had never had a son.

She thought of the knight, his breath hot in her face, his voice soft in her ear: are you a witch, or just a whore?

The words hadn’t really registered in her haste to get away, but Belle wondered now at the truth of them. She thought back to the heavy book in her hands, the leather the last thing she felt before she ended up in the forest.  What if it wasn’t another land that she had come from? What if she’d been sucked into the book?

“Miss?” Baelfire asked, drawing her back to the present. “We should get out of the rain, miss.”

She cleared her throat, hopelessness and panic clawing in her stomach. “Belle. My name is Belle.

The sun was just setting as they made their way through a large field, the forest at their backs. Baelfire’s home was cozy, a rundown hut that looked held together with string and hope. He opened the door for her, beckoning her through.

The first thing Belle noticed was the sudden warmth that she wanted to burrow in. The furs at her feet were a blessing all on their own, and she couldn’t help but clench her toes, trying to put down roots.

The second was the two voices that abruptly stopped when they caught sight of her. She stood as still as she could as two sets of eyes turned to her.

One was crystal clear and blue, his hair blond. He had wide shoulders and a broad chest, and she supposed he was handsome in a traditional sense. When smiled after a moment, and it put her at ease just as much as Bae’s had. This was not a man who would willingly hurt others.

The man next to him was slighter, so much so that he could be called gaunt, and his eyes were just as dark and deep as Baelfire’s. His hair was a lighter color and just grazed his shoulders. He must be Rumplestiltskin, Belle decided, taking careful note of his sharp jaw, sharp nose, and sharp eyes. Rumplestiltskin did not smile, and instead stared at her with his jaw slack, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

“David!” Baelfire said behind her, causing her to start. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said just a little too loudly.

“I was just getting ready to come looking for you,” David, the blond, said. “It’s dangerous at night, though something tells me you already knew that.”

Belle could feel their own scrutinizing gazes as if they were something wet, something sharp. The only thing she could think to do was stand there with her split lip, her matted, tangled hair. The cloak hid the bruises on her arms were the knight had held her down, but it didn’t quite cover the scrapes on her feet.

David rose. “I know I still have some planeby root,” he said, drawing on his own cloak from where it hung on the back of his seat. “I’ll go and grab it, and I’ll check about any solves or wrappings. I’m sure I can scrounge something up.”

Belle wasn’t sure who he was talking to, her or Rumplestiltskin, who had yet to tear his gaze from her face, his expression unreadable.

“Thank you, David,” Baelfire said. He tugged on her arm, drawing her closer to the fire, where his father sat. “Come sit down. You’ll feel a lot better once you’re off your feet.”

David slipped past them and out as Belle allowed herself to be led and pushed into David’s vacated chair.

“He’s our neighbor,” Bae explained. “Helps me watch the flock when Papa has to spin. He’s nice. Papa, this is Belle.”

Rumplestiltskin shifted as she settled, his gaze flickering away from her and to his son. He seemed to press himself back and away from her, but if it was to give her space or simply because he found her disagreeable, she couldn’t say. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He tapped his thigh nervously, unable to meet her eyes.

“What’s planeby root?” Belle asked when he continued to fidget.

Brown eyes snapped to her face, his eyebrows rising. “Hm?”

Belle raised her eyebrows right back, knowing he had heard her.

“It’s...it’s for tea,” he said finally, his eyes drifting over to his son, who was dragging down blankets from what looked like a loft at the far end of the hovel. “It will keep any seed from—from growing,” he said.

“Oh,” Belle said. “Oh, he uhm, didn’t get that far.”

Rumplestiltskin released a breath she hadn’t even known he was holding, his shoulders sagging. “Good,” he said quietly. After a pause, “It’s still a rather steadying drink. Will help to warm you up if nothing else.”

“Here,” Bae interrupted. “We can hang the cloak up to dry, and these are warmer anyway,” he said, holding out the blankets he had been wrestling with.

Belle smiled, so deeply touched by this sweet boy. “Thank you, Baelfire,” she said, happy to make the trade.

Rumpelstiltskin watched as she peeled off the cloak, his eyes on her bruises, on her ruined dress.

“Miss Belle,” he said as she wrapped herself up in the blankets. “You’re safe here, for as long as you need to be.”

Belle met his gaze. She nodded.

Planeby root made a bitter tea, but Belle only took sugar in her coffee, so she drank it anyway.

The next morning dawned cold and wet. The drizzle had turned into a steady downpour overnight, but the hovel remained warm and dry. Belle burrowed firmly into the blankets she had been given last night, pulling them firmly around her as she tried to sink back into sleep. Her body ached.

She could hear a quiet whirring sound that was familiar, but she couldn’t place. It was the only sound other than the constant tap tap tapping of the rain on the roof.

So Belle dozed, lulled to a light sleep by the rain and the spinning of a wheel.

She jolted awake when the door was flung open.

“Baelfire,” Rumpelstiltskin scolded.

“Sorry, Papa, I forgot.”

Belle sat up, rubbing her eyes. She didn’t mind the wake-up call; she was going to have to face her reality sometime.

Which Bae seemed to agree with wholeheartedly. As soon as he saw she was awake and sitting up, he said, “Sir Gaston has set up a watch for you.”

“ Baelfire ,” his papa said.

“You can try to leave. But he’s really angry. So I don’t think you should.”

“Where was this watch yesterday?” Belle asked.

Bae shrugged. “He seemed to think you’d have just wandered into the village on your own.” He pulled at the clasp to his cloak, finally taking it off as well as he could so he didn’t get water everywhere. “He thinks women are...uh…”

His father interrupted that particular train of thought, not that Belle needed to be told what the knight thought of the fairer sex.

“You were supposed to be helping David, not going into town to hear the gossip.”

“Someone had to. David agreed, anyway,” he said. To Belle he said, “You didn’t mention that you got a shot in.”

Belle blushed at the look of pride on his face. “I just scratched him,” she said.

“You did what?”  Rumpelstiltskin turned to her, eyes wide, his gaze downright awe-struck. Her blushed only deepened and she had to look away.

Bae mimed gouging his face. “He has four scrapes. Nasty looking things,” he said with glee.

Rumpelstiltskin licked his lips, the anxiety warring with the admiration on his face. Belle had a feeling she knew what he was thinking about.

“Perhaps you’d be safer at David’s.”

Bae’s smile disappeared. “David’s is closer to town, and he’s much closer to the main road. She’s safe here.”

“I think he’s just worried about you,” Belle murmured. If the knight was angry with her, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to punish those who helped her hide from him. She drew her legs up, resting her chin on her knees. The thought of anything bad happening to Bae left her feeling cold.

Rumpelstiltskin pushed away from his stool, finally giving up the pretense that he was trying to spin. “Bae’s right, though. David sees a lot of travelers. If the goal is to keep you hidden, here is—is best.”

“Is your village large?” Belle asked, curious despite herself.

“It’s smaller than most,” Rumpelstiltskin said as Bae plopped himself down next to her. “But there has been an increase in people on the road ever since the end of the ogre war.”

Belle snorted a laugh, trying too late to disguise it as a cough. It wasn’t funny—ogres and knights and a spinner named Rumpelstiltskin. Suddenly her chest felt very tight, her skin clammy. Her head hurt, and she pressed it into her hands, unable to look at the looks of bewilderment in her hosts’ faces.

“Belle?” Bae asked when her shoulders started to shake.

“Be a good lad and make some tea, eh?”

The blankets shifted again as Bae reluctantly stood back up. The sound of the cupboards opening, of things being rifled through was loud in the quiet space. Belle focused on taking deep breaths.

“What is this place?” she asked when she had calmed. “Where am I?”

If he was concerned by the turn in the conversation, he didn’t show it. “You’re in the Frontlands, the land of the White King.”

“Like Snow White?”

“That’s the princess’ name, I believe, yes.” There was a pause. Then: “You must come from somewhere far away.”

“Well I’m certainly not from around here.”

Rumple huffed a laugh. “I meant what I said last night, Miss. I won’t ask you leave.”

Belle wiped her face on the sleeve of the dress they gave her last night. “I don’t want to make you or Bae a target.”

Rumple shrugged, his eyes crinkling in a smile he clearly didn’t feel. “No one comes here. We’ll just wait for this to blow over.”

He was not a tall man, not sturdy or broad, and he had a limp caused by a twisted ankle. But he was kind, and Belle felt safe. For now, that was enough.

The days passed slowly.

Rumpelstiltskin spun by the fire, made tea. The rain exacerbated his ankle, so he rarely left to check on the sheep, Bae being more than happy to go in his place. Belle, despite their protests, kept herself busy. She took over the cooking, the cleaning. She even darned the socks, Rumple’s lips twitching as he thanked her for her crooked, uneven lines.

At night they sat by the fire and listened as they told each other stories. Sometimes David would join them, talking of friends in the neighboring kingdom of Arendelle. They didn’t talk about Gaston, then.

It was routine, these quiet moments spent in a fairytale. Belle hadn’t had family, hadn’t had close friends back in her world. When they were together at night it was easy to forget that going outside was dangerous, that Rumple got jittery and nervous whenever she went past the laundry lines.

It isn’t forever, Belle would remind herself. She just had to hold out until Gaston got bored or gave up. She could content herself on watching Rumple as he spun, Bae asleep beside her. It was a secret delight of hers to watch the way the shadows and firelight danced across the the angles of his face, his hands steady and sure as they worked.

Watching him warmed her up better than a fire ever could.

Once, when the embers burned low and they were all supposed to be asleep, Bae asked her, “How are you going to get home?”

Belle turned over in her blankets. She could hear Rumple’s snoring from across the room.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“You could stay,” Bae said, his voice swallowed by the dark. “You could stay here with me and Papa.”

“Yeah,” Belle said. “I could.”

Minutes passed, and soon Bae’s steady breathing joined Rumple’s snores.

Belle didn’t sleep much that night.

When Belle thought of home, she thought of her library, of all the books that she had yet to catalogue and shelve. Books were few and far between here, which was her only lament.

She kept darning socks, kept washing the dishes. She sat with Rumple and Bae by the fire.

Everything was sweet and calm, and Belle was content.

Until the knight found her.

 It was a sunny afternoon, the second day in a row it hadn’t rained, and Belle was pulling the laundry down. She was humming to herself, thinking of nothing in particular when suddenly David was beside her, pulling her into the house.

“What—”

“Rumpelstiltskin,” he said, closing the door behind him. “Bae’s been arrested.”

Rumple looked up from the wheel. He frowned, as if he had just heard a tasteless joke. “Arrested? But why? For what?”

“For ‘obstructing a knight’s business.’”

Rumple’s eyes snapped to Belle’s. She felt as if a hand were wrapped around her throat (hands gripping her arms, pressing her down).

Clutching the wheel like a lifeline, Rumple shook his head, his eyes widened in horror.

“Is he expecting a trade?” Belle asked, her voice sounding hollow to her ears.

“Not exactly,” David said. “Just listen, okay? We don’t have much time. Bae came up with an excuse as to why a strange woman is living with you—he’s been insisting that Belle is his new stepmother.”

“Stepmother?” Rumple said.

“He’s thought it through: she’s a friend of my friends from Arendelle and came here to marry as soon as the war ended.”

“David, that’s prepos—”

“The problem is that Gaston knows there haven’t been any marriages in the weeks that Belle’s been here,” David continued. “He’s gone to the magistrate and is on his way here so he can see you wed at once.”

“What about Bae?” Rumple said, his voice a few notches higher.

“He’s being held in the jailhouse. Gaston says he’ll be released when this matter is resolved.”

Belle frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s expecting you to run, I think,” David said. “Or at least refuse, in which case—”

“Of course I’m not running,” Belle snapped. A coil, bound tight and hot had snapped inside her. She advanced on David, who held up his hands in a pacifying gesture that she ignored. “I, for one, am tired of letting myself be cowed and intimidated by some over-sized prick who thinks he can bully people into getting what he wants. How dare he use Baelfire like this, and how dare he think I will let him get away with this.”

She whirled around to face Rumple. “We’re getting married today,” she said, her tone daring Rumple to disagree with her.

She need not have worried; the look on Rumple’s face was one of such wonderment that the answer couldn’t have been anything other than yes.

“Aye,” he said, breathless. “We’re getting married.”

David looked between them. “Well, that makes the next part a little easier then.”

“Next part?” Belle asked, unable to tear herself away from the look on Rum’s face.

“He’s demanding proof of maidenship.”

“ Excuse me?”��With her eyes still on Rumple, she saw his wince, the guilt that clouded the awe.

David kept his hands up, his eyes shooting to the window as the sound of horses could be heard.

“Gaston claims he took your maidenhead that night in the woods, and that he is entitled to your hand in marriage because of it. If you don’t marry Rumple, he’ll marry you himself.”

“He didn’t,” Belle said. “I got away. How in gods name do we prove—”

“He’ll want to look at the marriage bed. At the sheets, I mean. See the proof there,” Rumple said softly. His eyes darted to his spinning wheel, to the pad that he slept on.

Belle bit the inside of her cheek. What an archaic practice. She wasn’t a maiden, hadn’t been since she was a teenager, and even then she hadn’t bled her first time. Women weren’t supposed to bleed, she wanted to yell, but this was hardly the time for a sex-ed lesson, especially now that footsteps could be heard up the path to the door.

He didn’t bother knocking. “Open up, Spindleshanks. I know you’re in there,” said a voice Belle had hoped never to hear again.

Before either Rumple or David could move, Belle walked to the door and swung it wide. There stood Gaston, tall and broad-chested, sneer firmly in place. Behind him was the magistrate, an old man with frazzled, graying hair that stuck out in all directions, round glasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Good afternoon, madame,” said the magistrate. “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Yes, thank you. Today is my wedding day,” Belle said tightly, glaring at Gaston.

Gaston’s sneer deepened as he looked through the threshold and saw David. “I see someone has already explained. No matter,” he said turning back to Belle. “The choice is obvious, girl.”

“You’re right,” she said. “It is. Sir,” she said, addressing the magistrate, “would you please marry  Rumpelstiltskin and me?”

“Of course, my dear,” the man said.

“Now wait just a minute,” Gaston said. “You would rather shackle yourself to this sorry excuse for a man then me? I’m offering you an out, you stupid girl.”

“You are offering me nothing,” Belle said.

“Fine,” Gaston sneered. “Marry old Hobble Foot here. Be the laughingstock of the village. I’ll keep that boy of yours, show him what happens to those who disobey me.”

Rumple made a sound of distress in the back of his throat. Belle drew herself up to her full height, head thrown back.

“You will do no such thing, Gaston,” the magistrate said. “The boy will be released once proof of consummation is given. You are aware that your virtue has been called into question, dear?” he asked Belle.

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Given that Baelfire is still young, I’ll put him up in the inn for the evening. Consider it a wedding present,” he said. “We will return in the morning, you can show that you are as virtuous as you say, and we can all get on with our lives.”

There wasn’t any sort of amusement in his face, just mild annoyance. Belle got the sense he was being generous out of spite for Gaston.

“Now then, madame, what is your name?”

“Belle.”

“Belle, do you take Rumpelstiltskin as your husband from this day forward, to become blood of his blood, together till death do you part?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Rumpelstiltskin, same question.”

“Y-yes. I do.”

“Well, then. I do declare you are married. I will see you tomorrow. Ta-taa.”

“That’s it?” Gaston snapped. “But—”

“Gaston,” the magistrate said, a hard, impatient note in his voice. “Let this go.” Without another word, he walked back to the horses, Gaston following in his wake. With one final sneer in her direction, they mounted and were gone.

Belle closed the door. Squaring her shoulders, she marched over to the pallet that Rumple slept on, pulling it closer to the hearth. The sheets on it were mostly clean, replaced during the first round of laundry the day before, which was just as well for their purposes. If they were going to do this, they weren’t going to do it in some musty corner.

When she straightened, she was met with twin, slack jawed looks.

“David,” she said patiently.

That seemed to kick him out of his stupor. “Yes, right, I’ll be on my way. I’m glad to see everything’s worked out fine.”

“Will Bae be okay at the inn?” Belle asked.

“If he’s at the inn he’s perfectly safe, but I’ll stop by, let him know that you’re officially his mother now. He’ll like that, I think.”

“Thank you, David,” Rumple said, letting him show himself out, not taking his eyes off Belle.

With that, they were alone.

“Well,” Belle said, at a loss. She wasn’t sure how to go about this. “Come sit down.” She plopped down on the pallet herself, holding her hand out for him.

He still had that adorable, dreamy look on his face, his hand blindly reaching for hers. Belle kept hold of him when he was down next to her.

“Rumple, if you don’t want to...consummate the marriage, we don’t have to.”

He squeezed her hand. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

“I just want us to be on the same page.”

“Right. Well.” He came to a halt when she bit her lip, his eyes drawn to her mouth.

“Are you okay with this?” Belle asked. She hadn’t really gotten his actual opinion on anything that had happened in the last hour or so. It had all unfolded so fast. “Being married I mean, not just the sex part.”

Rumple gave her a rueful smile, even as he blushed. “I of all people know that the bonds of matrimony are only as strong as one chooses to make them.”

Belle squeezed his hand again. She leaned towards him, close enough to feel the warmth from him shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You never asked where your dresses came from,” he said still not looking at her.

“I assumed they came from...a wife?” she said slowly. “Bae’s mother.”

“Aye.”

“I...I thought she may have died.” Bae had never mentioned a mother, nor had Rumple ever mentioned a woman, period. Belle could tell that the clothes had been in the trunk for a long time, so it seemed fair to assume that whomever they belonged to was long gone.

“She left.”

“Just...left?”

“Ran off with a man worthy of her,” he said not making eye contact.

“Do you think I’ll leave?” Belle asked after a pause.

“Your home is somewhere far away, you’ve said so yourself.”

“Can’t this be my home now?” She tugged on his hand until he met her eyes. “Or you and Bae could come with me, when it’s time.”

“Go with you?”

“I think...I think I want you with me, Rumpelstiltskin. Always.”

“I want that too,” he said. Lord, but his eyes were deep and dark, growing darker the more Belle gazed into them.

“Rumple?” she said.

“Aye?”

“We’ve been married a whole twenty minutes and you haven’t kissed me yet.”

“That sounds like a problem.”

“It’s a travesty.”

“Maybe I should—”

Belle pressed her lips to his, drinking the words he was about to say. When he gasped, Belle slipped her tongue into his mouth, her hands gliding up to his hair. She was delighted to find it was every bit as soft as it looked.

 It was a relief that Belle hadn’t moved the pallet for nothing. Not that she was thinking about it with her head thrown back, one hand on her breast as the other clenched in Rumple’s soft, soft hair, his tongue working between her legs.

She wasn’t thinking much of anything, only what it felt like as he ran his tongue along her labia, sucking it gently before running his tongue around her clit. His finger teased at her entrance, and he ran it up and down her slit until she was ready to scream. She broke, at long last, when he finally entered her and crooked his finger just so, to the side, his tongue still at her clit.

When Belle finally got him underneath her, when she finally straddled his hips and guided his cock into her body, she saw stars, her cunt clenching as she took as much of him as she could.

“Oh, Belle,” he gasped, sprawled beneath her, his eyes moving from her breasts as they bounced with each downwards thrust of her hips to where she rode him, where they were both wet and sticky.

When she clenched around him, reaching the very edge of her pleasure, it was enough to send him over also, and she revealed in the feel of him emptying in her.

She ran her hands up his chest, up his throat to his jaw. She cupped his face, the precious, beautiful thing that it was. He opened his eyes, and Belle basked in the tender look she saw there.

She kissed him, gently.

 They lay there in the late afternoon sun, enjoying that it wasn’t raining or that they hadn’t had to start a fire yet. They explored and re-explored each others bodies lazily with hands and mouths. It was soft, and sweet, and perfect.

The sun had set and Belle was dozing when Rumple pulled himself up and away from her. She grumbled in protest, rubbing at her eyes.

“Just a moment, my love,” he said.

Belle hummed, sitting up to watch him return to their marriage bed with the spindle of his spinning wheel. She frowned.

He shrugged. “I’d rather protect your reputation,” he said right before pricking his finger hard enough to draw blood.

Belle made a disagreeable sound in the back of her throat. “Do we really have to show them the sheets?” Her bravado from earlier had waned somewhat.

Rumple pressed his thumb to his finger, then hovered over the largest wet spot. Belle watched at red bloomed against the white.

“We likely will, yes.” He raised the spindle, twiddled it in the air. “It’d only cause more problems if we refused at this point.”

She rolled her eyes, falling back down and muttered something barbaric practices as Rumple put the spindle away.

“What’ll we do after?” she asked, wrapping around him like a cat when he lay back down next to her, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

“Tomorrow, you mean? When Bae’s back?”

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for some time, running his hands up and down her arm. “There’s a city, about a day and a half journey from here. It’s nearly three times as large as our village.”

“Okay,” Belle said, lips twitching when he said our.

“Well, there’s a bookseller there, and we did well enough at the last market—”

“There’s a bookseller?” Belle gasped, sitting up, eyes wide. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

“My dear, you would have doomed us all,” he said, eyes crinkling as he smiled, tilting his chin up for a kiss.

[metaborderlines]

Miss Manners Told Me to Write This

Newbie at Tumblr, I’m sending the same letter to my top-whatever-number of writers of Outlander fan fics, prompted by a lovely nod from a writer whose books are more available in hardcover, in ye olde conventional bookstores. Outlander blogs and fan fic make the best meals during social starvation time, thrashing through U.S. election angst, pandemic staying-in-place. Bye, Miss Manners, hoping to learn how to do this group-messaging in Tumblr’s way soon

Thanks writers,

Metaborderlines, actual message follows

Yesterday in The Guardian https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/nov/13/helen-macdonald-am-i-refusing-to-read-bleak-house-out-of-sheer-contrariness-possibly    Helen MacDonald, the author of H Is for Hawk said, “The last writing that made me cry wasn’t technically a book at all, but a work of fan-fiction, a genre that includes some of the most moving works I’ve read over the last few years. It infuriates me how often people sneer at it.” I want to send this affirmation to missclairebell who wrote the breathless banter of “One Summer”; and to CrossingInStyle who wrote the Tarzan story with the inexplicable title “You’ll Be in Mo Chridhe,”[why Crossing, why? nevermind, Jamie-raised-by-gorillas is irresistible]; and to BetweenScenesWriter who came up with the counterintuitive marvel of Peace Corps-volunteers Jamie and Claire, “Jimjeran” in Melanesia; and to PrairieFarmGirl, currently writing an R-Rated “Little House on the Prairie” called “The Proposal”; and to bonnie_wee_swordsman whose “Flood My Mornings” pulled many provocative threads out of the contrast between 1746 and 1945, showing that Jamie is wise enough to know that hot showers are not everything; and to wickedgoodbooks  who gave Willie to Jamie and Claire in ”Downhill” on “the Puffin trip” to the outer isles beyond Inverness, leaving behind the most genuine parent-child scenes ever, without neglecting the parents in their private time. Then there’s the foodie universe with endearingly sassy-yet-vulnerable Jamie and Claire in “Market Price” by desperationandgin, and the Charleston SC socialites who behave as though Scarlett O’Hara may waltz into their yacht-club-party in “Lovers in a Dangerous Time” by SassenachThroughTime. Scratch Scarlett, it would be mewling Melanie Wilkes who’d waltz onto the social scene that ThroughTime nails with a silver hammer in “LIADT.” Melanie would make friends with meddlesome Aunt Jocasta—enough! Also, where have you gone, hardblazesong, with “Noir Nocturne”?

 Outlander, fan fic, love these writers and so does a bestselling author according to The Guardian

[therumbellehappyendingaward-blog]

Who to vote for?

If you have no idea of who to indicate for our awards we have a list of previous nominees from TEA under the cut, but know they are not the only one you can vote for! The RULES & CATERGORIES CAN BE FOUND IN HERE.

Dear authors and artists, please reblog our posts to spread the news and make “for your consideration” lists!

Good luck everybody!

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[woodelf68]

Misc. OUAT fics

This is the stuff that doesn’t fit on the strictly Rumbelle rec list. General OUAT, young Rumpel, Grandpastiltskin and more!  (alphabetical by author)

Blood and Iron by @amuseoffyre -- Granny’s story, from the beginning, when the wolf came for her. Special mention of Granny/Rumple scene because apparently that works for me. 

Rumple and the Spinsters ‘verse by @annievh -- Rumple being raised by his Aunties Flora and Fauna, who might be a little more than they seem.

A Knack For Losing Everything by @antikryptonite -- a rewrite of Manhattan. Rumple finds his son, Emma finds an old lover, and Henry finds out he has a dad. Meanwhile, Belle works to keep Rumple from losing himself when the shawl which kept his memories intact over the town line is stolen by the person who stabbed him. And it’s not Hook this time around. 

The Spin Me a Yarn series by @barpurplewrites  -- In which knitting becomes the new thing for certain SB residents. 

The Lynchpin Universe by Catspook -- Season rewrites starting with the premise that the original curse swept up teen Bae from NL and brought him to SB. You want a shady Blue Fairy being called on her manipulations? Dwarfstar? Papafire? A fantastically written August? Get them right here!

Memories Keep You Near by @crossinginstyle -- A pregnant Snow goes through the magic tree with Pinocchio and must forge a new life for herself until Emma’s time comes to break the curse. 

First Step by dragonbat. -- Mary Margaret realises how badly they’ve all treated Gold and goes with baby Neal to apologise. Also:

Heartstrings (season 4 AU -- Emma, Belle, and August go to Gold’s aid in NY and to decide his fate)

Passamaquoddy Impromptu (season 3 AU -- Emma takes Gold out of SB instead of leaving him under Zelena’s control. Pete’s Dragon crossover.) Patterns (Emma wonders if the dark curse never fully broke, trapping them in a repeating cycle of events)

We’re Going In a Different Direction by Ellynne-- Persephone takes over the management of the Underworld from her Uncle Hades and Makes Some Changes. Also Saving Baelfire (a saving Bae from Zelena fic)

All I Needed by @galactic-pirates (stillsearching47) --   When Emma tells her high school sweetheart Neal that she’s pregnant a month before graduation, she didn’t know what to expect. What she finds is a family, and a place to call home.

Prompt: Henry finds a stray dog, Gold helps him keep it. by @lotus0kid. 

Truly Becomes Dust by @mysticknightsofscotland​ -- What if Milah had taken Bae with her when she left?

Impressions by Nym (@wibblywobblywritery) -- Neal’s thoughts shortly after coming to SB

Cinnabons by paradigmparadoxical -- Season 2 AU of Gold, Emma, and Henry going to find Bae in NY.  More and better interaction between the characters than in canon. 

Perigee by Rhinegold (@thestorieswesay) -- Rumpelstiltskin/Granny Lucas

All That Remains by @rufeepeach-- general OUAT/Golden Swan friendship (in the wake of Neal’s death, Gold and Emma form an unlikel bond.) Also:

 Burning Bright (season 5 rewrite in which Neal is still alive and becomes the Dark One instead of Hook)

First Christmas-- @severina2001 -- Gold gifts Henry Neal’s old ball for Christmas 

The Camping Trip and Stiltskin Family Bonding by @smartgirlsaremean -- Fluff featuring Rumple, Neal and Henry

Where In the World Is Rumplestiltskin? by @spottytonguedog -- some Rumbelle, but mostly general OUAT. The Dark Curse has broken, and Snow is the first to wonder where their former prisoner is. 

Broken Hearts by teacupsroses -- Grandpastiltskin, set after Belle banished Rumpel over the town line. Also:

For Love of Family  -- Henry and Gold share a talk at Neal’s grave.

The Consequences of Inaction  -- Henry gets fed up with some of the adults around him. Set during the Underworld story.

Generations by @woodelf68— Henry/Gold bonding at Neal’s grave. Angst/fluff mix. Also:

Addendum — An extended version of the deleted scene between Henry and Rumpeltiltkin from 4x02. Also:

Bargain by — Henry wants a birthday present for Emma. Gold has just the thing, and a special price for his youngest and cutest customer.

Manhattan Redux — an alternate scene between Gold and Henry in New York. Gold’s dying, but Henry refuses to let him give up.

What The Storm Brought — It was a dark and stormy night. Henry discovers what it left behind.

Like Father, Like Son — A taste for a certain checked shirt seems to be run in the family. Neal/Henry scene.    

In Which Rumpelstiltskin Receives Help From An Unexpected Source -- The Rumbelle Deer comes to Rumpel’s aid when Belle forces him across the town line. Because there’s nothing like adding a little crack to canon. Based on the ending of 4x11.  

Brother – Neal might be gone, but he isn’t forgotten. Future Rumbaby fic.

Small by worryinglyinnocent Alone in a car at the town boundary, Mr Gold waits for a delivery that will, one day, change the lives of all Storybrooke forever. A very small delivery…Also:

Full Circle “Emma remembers the man who started it all. Emma remembers Rumpelstiltskin. That’s not his real name, of course…” An alternate way in which Emma found Storybrooke, based on the theory that Regina allowed Gold one trip out of town to collect Henry. What if he’d made a little detour?

Once Upon A Different Time -- Full cast season 3 rewrite written in episodic format.

[thestraggletag]

2018 TEA Nominees (with links!) Part 2

Monthly Rumbelle (Smut) -

A Study in Sensation by @barpurplewrites

All Through the Night by @thescholarlystrumpet

Laid Bare by @little-inkstone

Bouncers and Shakers By @worryinglyinnocent

To Kiss the Fingers of the Rain by @thescholarlystrumpet

CHARACTER AWARDS

Best Belle -

The Boston Hour by @ifishouldvanish

Devilish By @worryinglyinnocent

Best Dark One!Belle

Beauty Within the Beast by @of-princes-and-savages

Best Detective Weaver

Drinking to forget by @emospritelet

Best Dark One -

The Safest Place by @thestraggletag

True Nature by @thestraggletag

A Different Fate by @toseehowthestoryends

Midwinter’s Kiss by @emospritelet

Best Mr. Gold -

Always One More Time by @bad-faery

Best Spinner!Rumple -

Roll in the Hay by @little-inkstone

Wolf’s Time by @emospritelet

Best Woobie!Rum -

Alterations by @ifishouldvanish

The Most Beautiful Mistake by @worryinglyinnocent

Best Rumbelle Child -

Lizzie from No Two Hearts by @thatravenclawbitch

Gideon Gold in It Must Be Magic by @mariequitecontrarie

Art

Best Cover Art -

Hope is the Thing with Feathers by @evilsnowswan

Best Graphic Art: Gif sets, photosets, etc. -

It’s not a happy ending, it’s a happy beginning by @virgidearie

A gilded cage @annievh

Best Fan Art -

Beauty by @staypee

Stained!Glass Weaver and Belle by @c0njidraws

Beauty and the Beast by Virgidearie Lust by @virgidearie

All I want is a life with you by @virgidearie

Detective Weaver by @ripperblackstaff

“Rumbelle Sunset” by @licieoic

Best Comic/Graphic Novel -

Love is still purple by @delintthedarkone

Belle protects Rumple AU by @nropay

In most fairy tales, they said third times is a charm by @nropay

Best Artist -

@virgidearie

@nropay

@nia-nita

@staypee

BEST ANYELLE FIC -

Heal by @Evilsnowswan

Morning Glory by @mariequitecontrarie

The Offering by @thestraggletag

Not Today by @ishtarelisheba

My Heart’s in the Highlands by @smartgirlsaremean

Empty Corridors by @emospritelet

The Cave by @woodelf68

BEST ANYEM FIC -

To Serve and Protect, by @prissyhalliwell

Let’s Spend The Night Together by @ifishouldvanish

And Then You by @rumple-belle

The Houseguests by @thatravenclawbitch

BEST RUMBELLE FIC -

Always One More Time by @bad-faery

Sacrifice by @emospritelet

We’ve Never Met by @prissyhalliwell

BEST AUTHOR -

@nerdrumple​

@ishtarelisheba

@ifishouldvanish

@crossinginstyle

@bookwormchocaholic

@rowofstars/ @rumple-belle

@thatravenclawbitch

@mariequitecontrarie

@emospritelet

extree

Lifetime Achievement Award:

@mariequitecontrarie

[metaborderlines]

Thanks, fan fictions writers, plus credit to Diana Gabaldon

Looking back on three months in the fan fic world, I need to give Diana Gabaldon credit for her supple story. The plot and the characters can be bent to anything. Hero and villain, Jamie and Frank. One knows how to listen; the other doesn’t. One is accepting without being pliant, the other is judgmental. One makes his lover believe in herself, the other makes her doubt herself. Oh, and one is a 6’4” tall 18th century-Highlands warrior, a virgin who becomes an attentive lover and the other is an average sallow 20th century historian whose sense of history is mostly about his own genealogy, which he prefers to pursue rather than pursuing Claire.

           In Gellis, the Claire of fan fics always finds a friend. However she went astray in writing Gellis after the witch trial (and she did go astray), Gabaldon cemented an alliance between two women that holds through every modern AU, and maybe the 18th century AU as well (just that I can’t recall reading any of these? Does Gellis turn up in the brutal universe of laythornmuse, “Brave Enough to Love You” et. al.?) Murtagh always has Jamie’s back as a father figure.

           Uncle Lamb shines in the backstory. His career as an archeologist tromping to digs around the world with his orphaned niece provides an explanation for Claire’s ability to sleep on the ground and survive on hardtack and scorched rabbit. In the Tarzan story by CrossingInStyle, set in the late 19th century, Lamb’s profession gets him and Claire to Africa to see gorillas, with Frank, inevitably, as a jealous trigger-happy guide bearing what he surely imagines as “the white man’s burden.”

           Joe Abernathy, always Claire’s good friend, allows fan fic authors to go beyond Gabaldon in sussing out racism. Diana was there first though. Lord John Grey, same, always Jamie’s good friend, valiantly keeping alive his hopeless passion. Gabaldon invented a complete range of characters who function anywhere, from Peace Corps volunteers in the Marshall Islands in the 1990s (“Jimjeran”) to faculty at a college in upstate NY in the second decade of the 21st century (“First Year,” where Leoch College has a football team called the Fighting Scots).

Jenny is forever the bossy big sister. Laoghaire fills in for the jealous possessive wannabe girlfriend in every story that uses her; more and more, I see that forgetting all about her is best, except when she sets things up (the separation of Claire and their son William from Jamie in the first six years of Willie’s life in “Downhill” depends upon Laoghaire’s villainy). Geneva who forces Jamie into her bed in the 18th century comes in handy occasionally, as a snobby aristo, e.g., in the world of polo payers, “Ride Out.” Annaliese, Jamie’s ex from his life in France before Claire, doesn’t appear often but she too has her uses. In the story about Jamie and Claire as neighbors in contemporary Charleston, SC, Annaliese is the mother, now deceased, of Jamie’s adorable red-headed daughters who fall in love with Claire next door even before he does. In “Lovers in a Dangerous Time,” Claire is married to a most chilling version of passive-aggressive Frank who warns her that her biological window is closing to have children.

Gabaldon’s Father Bain, chosen by Caitriona Balfe for the first option in a game of “Kill, Marry, Screw” at Paleyfest 2017, morphs into villainy in any setting at all. Aunt Jocasta with her manipulative MacKenzie ways causes trouble for Jamie and Claire when she’s a rich wife (of Ulysses) on the board of Leoch College in “First Year.”

Time travel can be metaphorical. In “Jimjeran” it’s the culture gap between the Pacific islands and the First-World-West. In “One Summer” it’s geography. Claire needs to finish her residency at a London hospital; Jamie needs to stay in the Highlands because he promised his sister Jenny to serve as father to her children after the death of his brother-in-law Ian. In “A Wild Night in Vegas” they’re in, well, Vegas. Oh nevermind, who knows how a culture gap worked there.  

[thelallybrochlibrary]

Hello, I remember I've read a fanfiction in which Claire gave birth on the woods with only Jamie by her side. I's like to reread it but I can't find it anymore... Do you know it ? Thanks !

Hey Anon,

A scene like you describe can be found in Dr. B, Medicine Woman by @crossinginstyle, in Chapter 109. 

Happy Reading! 

[thelallybrochlibrary]

Can you remind me of the name of the one where Frank and Claire divorce while Brianna is preteen age, he takes her to England, Claire follows to find her and then she and Bree inadvertently travel back. Brouhaha ensues where Brianna is taken to North Carolina and meets/stays with Jamie (Alex to her)? (Phew!) Thank you!

Hello @sofflysteel!

It sounds like you’re looking for Whatever a Moon Has Meant by @crossinginstyle! You can find it right here on AO3.

Happy Reading!

[thelallybrochlibrary]

Looking for story maybe called Dr.B medicine woman

Hello!

Yes Dr. B Medicine Woman is written by @crossinginstyle. You can read it here.

Pro-Tip fandom: if you are lucky and remember the name of the fic go straight to Google and type in the fic name and then AO3. More often than not Google can send you to the link almost instantly. That way you don’t have to ask us and wait for one of the Librarians! Instant gratification. As always, we don’t mind providing links to stories- this is just to help you all get it faster!