#ouat 6a divergent fic

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Moonlit Ghosts"

I thought that for the weeks in October (and maybe even into early November) I would post some Autumn/Fall/Halloween-themed fics I've written over the years. Our particular fandom and ship has a wealth of fall/Halloween fics really, but hopefully someone might enjoy these contributions of mine - most have a few years on them now, so they might even be ones people have missed or not seen for a while...

Anyway, this first one is a little one shot with some Halloween-tinged feels. There are a few small mentions from 6a episodes of the show, but nothing major as far as spoilers. I hope you all enjoy! :)

Summary: The Storybrooke crew has enough time and peace to plan a little Autumn revelry aboard the Jolly Roger for the kids of the town. The young Author, the librarian, and Emma and Killian, work together to provide some Halloween thrills and chills as well as a haunting story...

Can also be read on AO3 or ff.net if you would prefer...

by: @snowbellewells

Moonlight trickled down a lovely, filtering illusion of brightness amidst the night's shadows, illuminating the surface of the water and glancing off the copper sides of the lanterns Belle had hung around the deck, burning low for effect. Grinning widely in spite of herself – a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous quirk to her smile, Emma Swan waited in the hall below decks, just past the stairs up from the crew and captain's quarters on the Jolly Roger, where their special guests couldn't see her. The elegant old girl bobbed gently with the rise and fall of the waves where she lay at anchor a mile or so out of Storybrooke harbor.

The children circled on the floor around Belle's seat at the stern were wide-eyed, rapt, and silent at the story she wove for them, the lights flickering intriguingly over their faces. Not a single one fidgeted or spoke, their eyes focused on the petite librarian – familiar to them in her pretty skirts and high heels from everyday life in their little town, but transfixing to them tonight in the dark, flowing garb of a gypsy, the moon and pale glow of the wavering lantern flames glancing off the golden hoops in her ears and the rings on her fingers and bracelets clanking together on her arms while she gestured in telling her story. Shadows played over the upturned little faces as well. It said something about just how immersed in the little nighttime cruise Belle and Henry had dreamed up as a fall community event, and Killian had all too enthusiastically agreed to, that even as the story of a horrible cursed monster who chose exile and his strength over love concluded and Belle paused, the sadness in her eyes only visible to those who would know to look, that they didn't recognize her story was in truth woven more from fact than fiction. Belle paused and gestured for a bashful Henry waiting in the wings to join her. Emma couldn't help but smirk even more, adoring the young man her little boy had long since become, as he flushed and looked to Violet seated at his side on an old barrel and she urged him forward with an enthusiastic grin.

Belle's natural storytelling gift had been so evident that no one else would notice she clearly needed a moment to compose herself once more and a pause to gather her still raw emotions. But she looked up at her grandson from where she sat as Henry came to stand at her side, Emma could see her mouth a "thank you" to him, which he responded to with a quick squeeze of assurance at Belle's shoulder. Soon he was beginning to read his own story, voice just a bit shaky at the start. Emma knew that Henry was more than a bit anxious, as he had not read any of his works aloud for an intended audience before, and she smiled fondly at her lanky, dark-haired son, bespectacled, and wearing his school uniform with a maroon and gold striped scarf in an effort to look like Harry Potter for his costume. He cleared his throat and his ever-deepening voice had soon wrapped them all up in his own tale, just as Belle had done before him. He will never have a more captive audience, and her maternal pride in his gift wants this moment, this recognition of his talents, for him.

Her eyes flitted over to find Killian at the helm, one arm propped on the ship's wheel, looking at ease and happy with the scene set before him. He wasn't actually steering them anywhere while they sat at anchor, but he still looked the very picture of dark, dashing pirate captain in the red vest and black leather duster he had brought back out for the occasion, appearing more dangerous Captain Hook than he had for some time. It had been all she could do not to snicker and pat him on the cheek when a few of the little girls had been too meek to talk to him upon boarding the Jolly and their wide, guileless eyes had lingered uncertainly on his curved metal appendage. Unable to bear the hurt puppy look on his face for long, however, Emma had plied him with caramel apples on sticks to hand out as snacks, and felt herself fall for him even more to watch her pirate charm and befriend every last child, even the most shy and uncertain – those ones most of all, if the truth were told.

Startled out of her reverie and the loving perusal of his face, her eyes tracing its strong, handsome lines beneath the stars, Emma's attention was pulled abruptly back to her son, focusing in on the words he was reading to make sure she didn't miss her cue. Henry's writing had set the mood perfectly; an atmospheric tale of an abandoned navy cutlass much like the one they were all on at that very moment, drifting on the open sea, empty and alone except on quiet nights when a bright full moon shone down on the ghost of the mad captain's sweetheart, a pale, white shadow haunting the deck where her faithless love and mutinous crew had all died, doomed to walk the site of her heartbreak forever.

Drawing a deep breath into her lungs and calling on every bit of poise and composure she could muster, Emma topped the steps and with measured gait began to glide across the rough wooden planks to the bow, hoping to convey the solemn, otherworldly, floating quality of a restless ghost. They had powdered her hair white earlier that afternoon, and her mother had applied thick, pale stage makeup – something that had been used in a production of The Christmas Carol at the school at some point and had then wound up with Snow – to Emma's face, neck, and hands, getting into the bonding moment of a mother helping her daughter put together a Halloween costume, even if it was a decade or so late. Those spots were all that really showed beneath the high-necked, long, bell-sleeved diaphanous gown Emma wore, which Snow had tearfully drug from some trunk in the loft when Emma had first mentioned the whole idea.

Now as she progressed the length of Killian's ship slowly and she heard him call out lowly, "Avast, me hearties, look there!" to their youthful audience and gasps of shock and surprise at the appearance began to repeat, she knew the effect was working.

She almost broke character to shoot a concerned look over her shoulder as Killian's voice sounded oddly strangled, stumbling halfway through his well-rehearsed and overly cheesy line, but he continued more softly yet. "Yonder at the bowsprit, it's the ghost of the ship's lady!" as Emma stayed her course, pausing like an eerie statue to look out over the moonlit waters.

Henry's story continued to its end, everyone playing their parts, and though she badly wanted to turn and see the children's final reactions and Henry's face at the choruses of "Again! Tell it again!" and the hearty clapping, she didn't want to break the illusion.

It was only when she heard Belle announce it was time for popcorn and hot apple cider below in a real pirate's galley, where both her parents waited to serve the refreshments dressed as a ship's cook and first mate, and Emma heard the excited hoots and hollers of excitement and all the pairs of little feet moving to follow Belle's lead, herded at the rear by Henry and Violet, both blushing and Violet clearly impressed, moving to the stairs below deck, that she ventured a glance behind her and relaxed her stance to lean against the ship's railing.

She was startled when she did so to find Killian right at her back, a tormented look of pain emblazoned across his face. "Killian, wha – " she began to ask, concern creasing her brow, fingers reaching up to brush soothingly across the scar on his cheek. The movement was aborted and her words knocked from her by the fierce way he lurched forward and clutched her to himself tightly. His grip was almost desperate, and Emma's confusion and concern only grew as he held on, the trembling in his wiry frame plainly felt throughout her own and his heart pounding as though he had run for miles to reach her. Though she couldn't really think what it was, she knew now that the distressed note she had heard in his voice during the story, that catch which had made her think something was wrong, had been all too real.

Finally, he released his grip a bit, took a step back and tilted his head to stare into her eyes. "Emma, love, I just…" he sucked in a ragged breath, eyes wide and almost wild, as he pulled her in again, whispering against her hair "I just need to hold you for a moment. Seeing you that way – as a wraith, a shade – it ran my blood cold. I was not prepared for that."

It nearly stole the breath from Emma's lungs to see the raw anguish on her True Love's face. For a second, it genuinely did look as though Killian had seen a ghost, and Emma's heart ached for him at the fear she knew had been awakened once more, that he would again lose the one person he loved most in the world. There wasn't a thing she could do to take the awful, sinking sensation away, but she tried all the same. Running her fingers through the gentle curls at the nape of his neck, she aimed to soothe, squeezing his back and whispering, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. It's just a costume. You saw it earlier."

He shook his head, the strangled little noise in his throat twisting her gut in sympathy. "I know that, Swan. But that for a moment…you were so pale, almost unreal… for a moment it seemed as if you were already gone…"

She merely nodded, running her hands up and down his spine and out over his shoulder blades; anxious to provide even a bit of calm. Slowly, she felt the tremors between them begin to subside. Killian blew out a deep breath, and Emma could sense him steadying himself and bringing himself back under control.

Resting his forehead against her, Killian placed his hook under her chin, fingers smoothing her windswept hair back off her face in a gentle caress. "I cannot lose you, Emma," he whispered hoarsely, voice controlled once more but still fervently sincere, wobbling the slightest bit as he added, "I won't survive it, not this time."

Shaking her head, Emma reached across to press her hand over his heart, eyes drinking in his beloved face and swearing with all she had, willing both her love and herself to believe. "You won't have to, Killian. We'll find that third way."

He nodded, rubbing her upper arms to chafe warmth back into them in the chilly night air off the open water. For several long minutes, neither of them spoke, merely stared into each other's eyes – not wanting to lose the soft moment together, however it had come about, and turning to look out over the waves back to the lights of Storybrooke in the distance. Then, laughter and the rush of exuberant voices began to drift toward them again as their young charges began to climb back above deck for the short voyage home.

Reminded that they weren't alone and their passengers needed returned from their Halloween excursion, Emma gave one last squeeze of the hand to her pirate, whispering quickly before moving to help get them underway. "It's because of you that I finally know we deserve this future together," she vowed, "and I intend to have it."

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @sotangledupinit @once-upon-a-pirate-ship @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @bluewildcatfanatic @spartanguard @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @blackwidownat2814 @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @darkcolinodonorgasm @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @anmylica @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @stahlop @justanother-unluckysoul @wefoundloveunderthelight @artistic-writer

[gch1995]

Of course, you can. To be honest, I’m a Rumbeller who pretty much ignored everything after “Going Home,” too. I was willing to read canon divergent fix-its for 3B-S5, and I even wrote a fix it for 6A because apparently I’m still trash, even though I didn’t watch that atrocious arc or season on screen myself, anyway.

But yeah, as far as canon characterization and development goes post 3A, I tend to ignore most of it as badly written OOC CS fanfic, or OUAT crack!fic because nothing ever really made sense again after that point, no one really grew organically, or developed again, everyone became an unrealistically convoluted toxic mess, there was no consistency, continuity, rules, integrity, or limits anymore, and the writing was just stupid soap opera character assassinating Drama™️ with no deeper meaning, or uniqueness anymore.

They were making these characters do gross, and/or morally questionable things for Drama™️ that never got mentioned again because the writers didn’t understand consent, or how far was too far to come back from believably from day one. However, I don’t think there is one Dearie/Rumbeller, Rumple fan, Belle fan, Emma fan, Hook fan, Snow fan, David fan, Regina fan, or even Henry fan from this show who hasn’t been disgusted by what they reduced their faves to doing at one point or another on this trash show. We just acknowledge most of it as OOC or bad writing that the A&E and their team of hacks tainted them with, and either try to ignore it (the Rumbelle drama and Emma’s character assassination), or make sense of it by actually addressing it fanon.

Question….

If you ignore everything that happened to Rumbelle after Going Home can you be considered a Rumbeller? 🌹

[gch1995]

@bowtiesandrumple

@somekindoffan

As far as I’m concerned, the real canon OUAT ended on screen with “Going Home” (3x11) because nothing ever made any sense again from 3B-S7, and it felt like a completely different show with completely different characters set to a completely different theme in a cheesy OOC AU soap opera crack!fic on screen that no one was really taking seriously anymore, but Adam and Eddy and Hook/CS fans.

I’ve decided that every remaining main character on this show was pretty much a wildly OOC, incomprehensible, illogical, convoluted, fake, and toxic plot-driven hollowed out shell of the fantastic, relatabie, and interesting original characters they were for the sake of character destroying stupid plot shock value bs and H00k/Crapstain Swan propping crap after Nealfire died, especially Rumple, Belle, Rumbelle, and Emma because their arcs were so closely tied to Neal’s. Hook took Neal’s place as Emma’s main love interest on the show, and now Rumple’s rival was in the place of his son, so he, Belle, Rumbelle, and Emma all “had” to be completely destroyed to inorganically “redeem” Hook.

I finally quit watching after S5 because I was getting annoyed with the total character destruction of Rumple, Belle, Rumbelle, and Emma for the sake of H00k/CS, and I had no doubt that they were going to take Rumple and Belle to an unrealistically OOC destructive and toxic melodramatic all time low that I couldn’t forgive the writers for doing to either of their characters or relationship in canon this time around to try to “make Hook/CS look better after 5A.” From the spoilers I read for 6A Rumbelle, it sounds like it was a crack!fic on screen that made no fucking sense, and I’m glad that I didn’t watch that OOC nonsensical character destroying toxic clusterfuck of Soap Opera Drama.™️ I didn’t need that shit in my life anymore.

But I’ll always love Rumple, Belle, Rumbelle, Emma, and the Dearie/Rumbelle fandom. I’ll always love the individual characters and ship they were from S1-S3 ish, and in canon-divergent/AU fanfiction scenarios where the angst and resolution is actually realistic, healthy, two-sided, intelligent, slow-burn, and character-driven, and where the characters are actually consistently well-written, emotionally complex, in-character, and relatable, rather than completely destroyed for the sake of stupid magical fuckery plots, petty writer biases, and fanservice.

*hugs you* Do you need anything to make you feel better? Tea? Someone to rant to? Fluffy fic recs? Entire ouat rewrites? (I know some pretty good ones) And please, DO NOT GIVE UP WRITING just because two idiots somehow managed to gain enough money to produce this bullshit that's called ouat s5. My sister wrote a story with a better plot than ouat when she was eight, and I'm sure you can easily write something much better than that in your sleap! *hugs you again because you deserve it*

😊Thank you sis! You made me smile. I won’t give up writing, it’s just hard because my OC makes me think of who Rumple actually is, I’ve decided that A&E’s Rumple is fake (idk denial is easiest). I always love OUAT rewrites and fanfics, so I think I’ll take you up on the offer. Thank you so much, and if you need to rant of need tea or anything else I’m always here.

[kmomof4]

One of my favorites of Marta’s fics!!!!

Self Promo Sunday: "Moonlit Ghosts"

I thought that for the weeks in October (and maybe even into early November) I would post some Autumn/Fall/Halloween-themed fics I've written over the years. Our particular fandom and ship has a wealth of fall/Halloween fics really, but hopefully someone might enjoy these contributions of mine - most have a few years on them now, so they might even be ones people have missed or not seen for a while...

Anyway, this first one is a little one shot with some Halloween-tinged feels. There are a few small mentions from 6a episodes of the show, but nothing major as far as spoilers. I hope you all enjoy! :)

Summary: The Storybrooke crew has enough time and peace to plan a little Autumn revelry aboard the Jolly Roger for the kids of the town. The young Author, the librarian, and Emma and Killian, work together to provide some Halloween thrills and chills as well as a haunting story...

Can also be read on AO3 or ff.net if you would prefer...

by: @snowbellewells

Moonlight trickled down a lovely, filtering illusion of brightness amidst the night's shadows, illuminating the surface of the water and glancing off the copper sides of the lanterns Belle had hung around the deck, burning low for effect. Grinning widely in spite of herself – a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous quirk to her smile, Emma Swan waited in the hall below decks, just past the stairs up from the crew and captain's quarters on the Jolly Roger, where their special guests couldn't see her. The elegant old girl bobbed gently with the rise and fall of the waves where she lay at anchor a mile or so out of Storybrooke harbor.

The children circled on the floor around Belle's seat at the stern were wide-eyed, rapt, and silent at the story she wove for them, the lights flickering intriguingly over their faces. Not a single one fidgeted or spoke, their eyes focused on the petite librarian – familiar to them in her pretty skirts and high heels from everyday life in their little town, but transfixing to them tonight in the dark, flowing garb of a gypsy, the moon and pale glow of the wavering lantern flames glancing off the golden hoops in her ears and the rings on her fingers and bracelets clanking together on her arms while she gestured in telling her story. Shadows played over the upturned little faces as well. It said something about just how immersed in the little nighttime cruise Belle and Henry had dreamed up as a fall community event, and Killian had all too enthusiastically agreed to, that even as the story of a horrible cursed monster who chose exile and his strength over love concluded and Belle paused, the sadness in her eyes only visible to those who would know to look, that they didn't recognize her story was in truth woven more from fact than fiction. Belle paused and gestured for a bashful Henry waiting in the wings to join her. Emma couldn't help but smirk even more, adoring the young man her little boy had long since become, as he flushed and looked to Violet seated at his side on an old barrel and she urged him forward with an enthusiastic grin.

Belle's natural storytelling gift had been so evident that no one else would notice she clearly needed a moment to compose herself once more and a pause to gather her still raw emotions. But she looked up at her grandson from where she sat as Henry came to stand at her side, Emma could see her mouth a "thank you" to him, which he responded to with a quick squeeze of assurance at Belle's shoulder. Soon he was beginning to read his own story, voice just a bit shaky at the start. Emma knew that Henry was more than a bit anxious, as he had not read any of his works aloud for an intended audience before, and she smiled fondly at her lanky, dark-haired son, bespectacled, and wearing his school uniform with a maroon and gold striped scarf in an effort to look like Harry Potter for his costume. He cleared his throat and his ever-deepening voice had soon wrapped them all up in his own tale, just as Belle had done before him. He will never have a more captive audience, and her maternal pride in his gift wants this moment, this recognition of his talents, for him.

Her eyes flitted over to find Killian at the helm, one arm propped on the ship's wheel, looking at ease and happy with the scene set before him. He wasn't actually steering them anywhere while they sat at anchor, but he still looked the very picture of dark, dashing pirate captain in the red vest and black leather duster he had brought back out for the occasion, appearing more dangerous Captain Hook than he had for some time. It had been all she could do not to snicker and pat him on the cheek when a few of the little girls had been too meek to talk to him upon boarding the Jolly and their wide, guileless eyes had lingered uncertainly on his curved metal appendage. Unable to bear the hurt puppy look on his face for long, however, Emma had plied him with caramel apples on sticks to hand out as snacks, and felt herself fall for him even more to watch her pirate charm and befriend every last child, even the most shy and uncertain – those ones most of all, if the truth were told.

Startled out of her reverie and the loving perusal of his face, her eyes tracing its strong, handsome lines beneath the stars, Emma's attention was pulled abruptly back to her son, focusing in on the words he was reading to make sure she didn't miss her cue. Henry's writing had set the mood perfectly; an atmospheric tale of an abandoned navy cutlass much like the one they were all on at that very moment, drifting on the open sea, empty and alone except on quiet nights when a bright full moon shone down on the ghost of the mad captain's sweetheart, a pale, white shadow haunting the deck where her faithless love and mutinous crew had all died, doomed to walk the site of her heartbreak forever.

Drawing a deep breath into her lungs and calling on every bit of poise and composure she could muster, Emma topped the steps and with measured gait began to glide across the rough wooden planks to the bow, hoping to convey the solemn, otherworldly, floating quality of a restless ghost. They had powdered her hair white earlier that afternoon, and her mother had applied thick, pale stage makeup – something that had been used in a production of The Christmas Carol at the school at some point and had then wound up with Snow – to Emma's face, neck, and hands, getting into the bonding moment of a mother helping her daughter put together a Halloween costume, even if it was a decade or so late. Those spots were all that really showed beneath the high-necked, long, bell-sleeved diaphanous gown Emma wore, which Snow had tearfully drug from some trunk in the loft when Emma had first mentioned the whole idea.

Now as she progressed the length of Killian's ship slowly and she heard him call out lowly, "Avast, me hearties, look there!" to their youthful audience and gasps of shock and surprise at the appearance began to repeat, she knew the effect was working.

She almost broke character to shoot a concerned look over her shoulder as Killian's voice sounded oddly strangled, stumbling halfway through his well-rehearsed and overly cheesy line, but he continued more softly yet. "Yonder at the bowsprit, it's the ghost of the ship's lady!" as Emma stayed her course, pausing like an eerie statue to look out over the moonlit waters.

Henry's story continued to its end, everyone playing their parts, and though she badly wanted to turn and see the children's final reactions and Henry's face at the choruses of "Again! Tell it again!" and the hearty clapping, she didn't want to break the illusion.

It was only when she heard Belle announce it was time for popcorn and hot apple cider below in a real pirate's galley, where both her parents waited to serve the refreshments dressed as a ship's cook and first mate, and Emma heard the excited hoots and hollers of excitement and all the pairs of little feet moving to follow Belle's lead, herded at the rear by Henry and Violet, both blushing and Violet clearly impressed, moving to the stairs below deck, that she ventured a glance behind her and relaxed her stance to lean against the ship's railing.

She was startled when she did so to find Killian right at her back, a tormented look of pain emblazoned across his face. "Killian, wha – " she began to ask, concern creasing her brow, fingers reaching up to brush soothingly across the scar on his cheek. The movement was aborted and her words knocked from her by the fierce way he lurched forward and clutched her to himself tightly. His grip was almost desperate, and Emma's confusion and concern only grew as he held on, the trembling in his wiry frame plainly felt throughout her own and his heart pounding as though he had run for miles to reach her. Though she couldn't really think what it was, she knew now that the distressed note she had heard in his voice during the story, that catch which had made her think something was wrong, had been all too real.

Finally, he released his grip a bit, took a step back and tilted his head to stare into her eyes. "Emma, love, I just…" he sucked in a ragged breath, eyes wide and almost wild, as he pulled her in again, whispering against her hair "I just need to hold you for a moment. Seeing you that way – as a wraith, a shade – it ran my blood cold. I was not prepared for that."

It nearly stole the breath from Emma's lungs to see the raw anguish on her True Love's face. For a second, it genuinely did look as though Killian had seen a ghost, and Emma's heart ached for him at the fear she knew had been awakened once more, that he would again lose the one person he loved most in the world. There wasn't a thing she could do to take the awful, sinking sensation away, but she tried all the same. Running her fingers through the gentle curls at the nape of his neck, she aimed to soothe, squeezing his back and whispering, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. It's just a costume. You saw it earlier."

He shook his head, the strangled little noise in his throat twisting her gut in sympathy. "I know that, Swan. But that for a moment…you were so pale, almost unreal… for a moment it seemed as if you were already gone…"

She merely nodded, running her hands up and down his spine and out over his shoulder blades; anxious to provide even a bit of calm. Slowly, she felt the tremors between them begin to subside. Killian blew out a deep breath, and Emma could sense him steadying himself and bringing himself back under control.

Resting his forehead against her, Killian placed his hook under her chin, fingers smoothing her windswept hair back off her face in a gentle caress. "I cannot lose you, Emma," he whispered hoarsely, voice controlled once more but still fervently sincere, wobbling the slightest bit as he added, "I won't survive it, not this time."

Shaking her head, Emma reached across to press her hand over his heart, eyes drinking in his beloved face and swearing with all she had, willing both her love and herself to believe. "You won't have to, Killian. We'll find that third way."

He nodded, rubbing her upper arms to chafe warmth back into them in the chilly night air off the open water. For several long minutes, neither of them spoke, merely stared into each other's eyes – not wanting to lose the soft moment together, however it had come about, and turning to look out over the waves back to the lights of Storybrooke in the distance. Then, laughter and the rush of exuberant voices began to drift toward them again as their young charges began to climb back above deck for the short voyage home.

Reminded that they weren't alone and their passengers needed returned from their Halloween excursion, Emma gave one last squeeze of the hand to her pirate, whispering quickly before moving to help get them underway. "It's because of you that I finally know we deserve this future together," she vowed, "and I intend to have it."

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @sotangledupinit @once-upon-a-pirate-ship @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @bluewildcatfanatic @spartanguard @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @blackwidownat2814 @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @darkcolinodonorgasm @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @anmylica @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @stahlop @justanother-unluckysoul @wefoundloveunderthelight @artistic-writer