#drcgonhide

[travelingthroughworlds]

Spellbound

@drcgonhide

It had been three years since Belle was proclaimed dead. Or at least since Regina had told Rumple. But that could not be further from the truth. Belle threw a rock through the window. Checking for some sort of force field. When she was content with an opening she snuck in, her helmet falling off. She grabbed the dagger. "Rumplestiltskin." She told the man at the spinning wheel. Her eyes glowing red.

[roleplayerxshoutouts]

@drcgonhide and all of their side blogs are, excuse the outdated meme, koala-tea. How are people sleeping on them? How?! They easily master every character they take up!

[fairestmusesismoving]

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She thought she had seen everything. She thought she had endured everything. The lifetime of a fairy meant for extraordinary things that could make anyone, including a human, whisper “well shit” when faced with things that she would often shrug and admit it was a job risk. There were still some things that could very well surprise her. Impossible things happened every day. This was one of those moments. “Shit!” She rarely swore in public but now seemed like the perfect time to use one of those get-out-of-the-confessional-free cards, if they made those. Mother Superior dove towards Mr. Gold and offered her arm and shoulder to help steady the man. “Wh...you...” Where to start? Was there a place to start? Was it even her place? She closed her eyes and moved slowly inside the convent. Everything was deathly silent. “Phone is in our sitting room...” It was on the tip of her tongue to lash out and ask him if he knew how many people were out searching for him and worried, but now wasn’t the time for anger. Even so it was terribly misdirected. She wanted to strike out at those responsible. “Who did this to you? Don’t move too much, please.” She kept her steps slow as she moved towards the sitting area of the dreary little convent. “Sisters! Sisters, I could use some assistance!” There was the sounds of shuffling in the distance from the younger and less experienced novices who were now fretting about their guest and what might be coming for the rest of Storybrooke. “What kind of monster would do this to a person...?”

[secondbcrnpiracy]

“You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“And are ye suggesting ye know what I should be doing?”

[fairestmusesismoving]

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“Well, ‘tis the season to be petty. If I gotta work, someone’s not gonna sleep while I’m on night shift again. Hope she likes it cause she’s looking at it until January 12th!” Armed with some minor hardware supplies, the dwarf seemed prepared for a lighting war.  “You ever think of putting up mistletoe only waist high so when people ask why you did that, it’s so you can tell them you’re hoping they’ll kiss your ass when they don’t buy anything?”

[fairestmusesismoving]

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“There’s also latkes. Eight nights of eating yourself silly with fried food? It’s a pretty good holiday. It’s a miracle with oil... And since this year it includes Christmas, we’re deep frying the turkey. David gets to supervise six out of seven dwarfs during a Maine winter and a turkey fryer.” Mary Margaret seemed absolutely amused by the idea. She raised her eyebrows and gave a tiny giggle. “That means Dopey and I are going to sit back with the baby and 9-1-1 on speed dial to enjoy what’s supposed to be a “blended” celebration. Or we might spend it at the burn unit... Wonder if Marco will deep fry lasagna for us if it goes horribly wrong...”