#Ruby .. is just stunned that Mayor Mills is a dork | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lamiaward · 7 years

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Celebrity au

I don’t own OUAT. I kind of skipped the first day of SQ week- I had test week, oops- so I decided to write this now.

Features: Regina who is a closet dork and Emma Swan fan, Henry who still steals credit cards and runs away (to the celebrity he has decided can help) and Ruby, who feels blessed when she learns Mayor-scary-Mills is a Star Wars loving dork.

Dear miss Swan ( my mom told me to call you that. Can I say Emma? Miss Swan is weird) My name is Henry. I am almost eleven. I really like pizza and hot chocolate and watching star wars marathons with my mom( even if I sometimes suspect her favourite is Darth vader , and he is the villain). Anyways, I don’t think my mom is good at liking people. She is the mayor, so she is sort of good at charming them? I think. Maybe it is just because she is scary. She is really good at glaring at townspeople that infuriate her. But I am writing this, because I hoped you could stop by. You sometimes do that, right- I read an article a while back about you secretly visiting that orphanage after they wrote to you. After I had wrestled it from mom’s hand. And I know you probably did it because the people at the orphanage do not have a family; they needed you. But I need you too, because my mom isn’t happy. She pretends to, but she really isn’t. And it all sucks. I think it would suck less if you just visit. Reading about you always makes mom smile and I know it would mean the world to both of us if you showed up.

Henry Mills

He has not actually told his mom what he has put in the letter. He has discussed writing it with her and they had sat at the couch, laughing as they came up with things to put in there. He had wanted to tell Emma a lot about how mom likes star wars so much that she dressed as Leia once and how she is weirdly great at going voices and how she has read even more comics than he has -but mom reached for his hand and sounded kind of panicked when she said “no!”. Her “ this is your letter, sweetheart. You do not have to make it all about me” had sounded like a partial lie.

Because yes, he was slowly starting to relearn that his mom would, in fact, do anything from threatening to destroy his teacher to frightening a bully’s parents to the point where he was forced to tearfully apologize, but there was also more going on than her just being overprotective.

Anyways, he had agreed to leave out the anecdotes about mom after a passionate discussion that ended with mom winning- he still maintains it is kind of cheating, considering it is her job to convince people she is right- and pretended to not have an ulterior motive at all. He would feel guilty – yeah, okay he still does a little – for omitting Important information but really, he figures he is allowed to after she did so for his entire life. So that is how he started writing the letter- his bin is now filled with proof letters because his mom is a perfectionist and he might have inherited that- and after his mom and he had spent a fun evening working on it, he had gone to Ruby for the bits that his mom couldn’t know about until stage six.

He reads it again, glances at Ruby. “What do you think? “ he asks, then frowns. He hesitantly grabs her arm and shakes her. “Ruby? Are you- are you okay? “.

“The mayor is a star wars fan?”.

“ Well duh. She sometimes throws star wars quotes in the conversation” he rolls his eyes. “ She uses ‘the idiocy is strong with this one” a lot”

When Ruby continues to stare at him like she has just wound up in an alternate universe, he adds “ it is a variation on ‘the force is strong in this one’. Get it? She always uses it after someone has been particularly inept”.

“Wait” Ruby slowly seems to recover, which is good because he actually needs her to function properly for operation Cobra “ was she actually quoting darth vader when she told me that she ‘found my lack of professionalism disturbing’ ?”.

“ Probably” he smiles happily. “ So you have seen it too?”

“ I used to have a girlfriend who really liked it” Ruby shakes her head. Henry kind of wants to ask her whether she is ill : she has a really weird expression right now. “ Oh my god. Your mother is a dork , isn’t she?”

“ We do not use that word” he tells her, frowning.

“ Oh my god, what else is she a nerd about it?”.

“ Does it matt-“.

“Yes” Ruby leans forward. “ Your mother’s uptightness and general haughtiness as well as the way she looks in her I-have-authority outfits means no one would know she is secretly a giant dork. Do you have any idea how great it is to discover all that coolness is just a façade?”.

“ Do not call my mom uptight! Or haughty. And what does the last thing even mean?”.

“I am not going to explain or your mother would send like daleks after me”.

“ The daleks are not assassins. And they would immediately attempt to kill mom if they saw her. They- “.

“So you have watched Doctor Who together. What else?”.

He sighs. “ Ruby, I do not have a lot of time for this. Can we focus on what is import-“.

“But I need to know more! Like, does she have a wand or a lightsabre? Do you guys duel”

“Sometimes. Mom is weirdly good at it and super competitive. Now , can we go back to the operation?”.

Ruby sighs. “ Fine. But I want the scoop later”.

“ I am not going to rat on my mom”.

She smiles and wiggles her fingers. “Not even for a hot chocolate with cinnamon?”.

“ Really? That is all you got? “.

“ The new captain America”.

“ Nope”.

“ The- “.

“ Ruby, I am not a traitor, okay? So really, you could offer me the Arkenstone and it wouldn’t be enough”.

“ Well, yeah because you would probably want something like .. like.. something with books. Words”. “ The library of Alexandria?” Henry offers, because that would definitely be something he is willing to do a lot for. Not ratting out his mom though.

“ You truly are your mother’s child, dork. “.

“ I just really appreciate the fact that some people invented the basics of our entire civilization and I think it is awful that important knowledge – including stuff like Greek fire which would have been so epic- is lost. But is the letter okay?”.

Ruby takes the letter from him and reads it one last time. She smiles at him. “ Yeah. I think it is pretty great”.

His mother’s fears almost come true as he barrelled down the stairs and only just caught himself as he tripped over the shoe he had left there earlier. Ignoring his pounding heart and the slight ache from where he had slammed his hand in the baluster, he jumped the last few chairs and ripped open the door.

He nearly tore the letter as well as he opened the envelope, glancing at the kitchen. His mom still did not know exactly what he been telling Emma in those letters. He hesitated for a moment, please don’t disappoint this time, and finally started reading the letter.

It held another gift, a new one. But the signature was the same and the words were pretty general as well. Thank you so much for your kind letter, I wish you the best. He crumpled it and threw it at the floor, crushing it beneath his foot. His socks did not do much to the paper. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, then glanced at the kitchen again. He could hear a pan clatter, presumably falling to the floor.

She has been weird today. He can see she tries very hard to listen to his chatter and that she wants to hear about it, but she keeps losing attention. He used to get so mad whenever he had to repeat things on days like this, used to think his mother was just thinking about work – like that was more important than him. Used to hurt himself thinking that she didn’t care as much, because he wasn’t her real son. Now, he thinks it is something else entirely. He just doesn’t know what is going on, just feels like there is something wrong and she needs help that she will stubbornly refuse forever.

I know it is not really obvious, but I know something is going on. That she isn’t ha- I am not giving up on you, mom. I will help you.

It is that stubborn, consuming thought of need to help her need her to be okay something is wrong I can’t hurt her again that finally makes him silence what he thinks of as the Jiminy cricket in his mind, and just execute the rather ingenious – if illegal and kind of horrible- plan. It really is his mother’s wellbeing and not just his slight worship of the famous Emma Swan that brings him to stea borrow- he is totally going to find a way to repay her- credit card and get to Boston where he knows she is staying for the moment. The fan site gives the address of a hotel as her stay, but Henry knows better

It is just a decoy. She might have been there for the evening, but she is definitely not staying the night. He is lucky that knows someone who knows Emma’s bodyguard or he would have probably never found her. Now, he is standing in front of that bodyguard with his most charming, dimpled smile- the one that even destroys his mom’s iron resistance.

“ Where are your parents?”.

“ Mom. She couldn’t come. She is very busy” he says, pretending to be sad for a moment before giving the guard a small grin and waving the items in his face. “ She gave me some things to have signed for her though “ it is one of his mom’s favourite pictures of Emma. She is kind of sweaty and gross, but there is a shy, radiant smile as she holds up the trophy. It is the shawl he nearly always wears. It is the crudely sculpted cup he made for her ages ago.

The guard hesitates, then nods. As soon as he is turned, Henry allows himself to exhale shakily and show the fear and doubt on his face for a moment. He is grinning again by the time the guard knocks on the door and it opens.

Emma Swan leans against the door, in her usual red jacket and with a tank top and dark jeans. She looks at him, then at the guard. “ Thanks Alec. Have a good nightshift”.

The guard nods. “ Thank you miss Swan”

Emma grimaces. “ I told you, don’t call me that. It is weird”.

“That is exactly what I told my mom” Henry pipes in, grinning.

Emma chuckles. “Well, that’s smart “ she steps aside. “ Come in – Henry, was it?”

“ Yeah” he turns towards the guard. “Thank you Alec!” the dude grins and offers him a fist. “Take care, little man” and Henry pumps it before darting inside. He immediately asks the question that has been on his mind ever since he heard that the operation was a go. “ Not that I don’t think it’s super cool, but do you always listen when your guards ask you to accept fans to visit?”.

Emma chuckles. “ Actually, that was Ruby”.

“ Ruby? But she said- “ he frowns. “ She said that Alec was an old friend that could get you to agree to a meeting”.

Emma leans against the fridge, smirks a little. “ Well, it is completely possible that Alec has fallen for Ruby’s unique charm , but it was me she actually asked”.

He clenches his fist a little. Liars, everywhere. “ But why did she lie?”.

Emma shrugs. She looks slightly awkward. “To protect me, possibly. She was my girlfriend and I am a private person. She might have thought you would accidentally out me”.

“ Wow. She was your girlfriend?” Emma rubs her neck. “Well, yeah sort of? But I am not going to fully explain, because your mom will possibly kill me if I accidentally give you like The Talk”.

Henry is too stuck on ‘girlfriend’ to really listen to the rest of what Emma is saying. “ That is so cool!” . He giggles. “if mom knew, she would probably never smile at Ruby again”.

“ Uh why is that, kid?”.

He grins. “ She would be super jealous”.

Emma relaxes and laughs. “ Would she?”.

He nods. “Totally” he lowers his voice. “ I am not supposed to tell you, but she is weird about you. This one time, mom was on the phone and I was watching you on ninja warrior and she walked into the couch’.

“ Well, I am glad I made an impression”.

He nods sagely. “ You did” he skips towards the fridge. “ Do you have juice?”. “ Sure. Just- “

He takes the package from the fridge, tries to reach the cupboard. He hears her chuckle. “ You can drink from the carton”.

He stares at it. “ Are you sure? It seems kind of unhygienic”.

“ Yeah. It is nearly empty anyways”.

He shrugs and greedily finishes the carton before wiping his mouth and grinning. He offers her the items, she looks around with narrowed eyes before she looks at him.

“ Do you maybe have a –“.

He hands her the fountain pen. It is the special one, the one mom gave him when everything still sucked and she finally broke and tried to get him to smile at her again by giving him an amazingly beautiful leather notebook and a matching pen. Emma doesn’t all of that though, which is probably why she teases him a little.

He merely shrugs and semi-casually says “ My mom gave it to me. She is supportive of one of my dreams”.

“ One of them?”. “ I have several. One of them is to become a writer”.

Emma nods as she scribbles on the items. “ What kind of books are you going to write?”.

“I am not sure yet. I have several ideas though, am already working on characters”.

She smiles and he knows that she is not just pretending to be nice, that is not the rare person that has the guts to try to get close to his mom and thinks he is the way to do it, nor any of the townspeople who patronize him and privately think his ambitions will change. “ Well, give me a call or something when you get published, okay?” his jaw hurts from grinning and he nods.

He accepts the items, clutching them in his hands. He is slightly terrified, but he steels himself and his voice barely trembles. “ Yeah. Ehm Emma?”.

“ Yes?”.

“ Thank you so much for this” he shows her the items. Do not forget to be polite, Corazon he hears his mom’s voice say. I am going to make sure you’re okay, I am going to apologize that way he thinks back. “ There is just- I really need your help”.

Emma looks confused. “ with what?”.

He swallows. “ D-do you remember my letters?”.

She crosses her arms, drags her foot over the floor. “ No, so- I don’t always read every single one. I try- but I am – “ she falters, throwing him a sad look. He immediately forgives her, partly because he understands.

“ that’s okay. Anyways, my letters- my mom is not okay. And I- “ he swallows. “I really need your help”.

“ I don’t- kid, I am a total stranger”.

“ I know”.

“ Your mother might occasionally watch me on TV , but she doesn’t really know me- “

“ I know”

“ and doesn’t she have like friends or I don’t know, like a – “.

“ she doesn’t want to admit something is wrong” Emma pales and freezes for a moment, then hesitantly approaches and kneels, at the sight of the tears that embarrass him slightly. “ Hey, kid- “.

“She is hiding it. But- I know. I can feel it. And – she sometimes has these weird mood swings. Not around me- she always orders Kathryn to pick me up and says it is just because she has a meeting- but with the people from the court sometimes, or Rubes. And she sometimes locks herself into her office- for work, she says. But there is not even paperwork around her then! And- “ her chokes a little. “ Please. “.

Emma hesitates for a moment, then nods. “ Okay. I will check it out”.

Henry regains some of his usual cheeriness during the ride home. It is easier to believe everything will be fine when he has the bravest- apart from his mom- and strongest woman in the car next to him. He presses the signed picture, shawl and mug against him and grins. It is going to be okay.

It is not.

His mom’s voice breaks as she runs towards him, tugging him into his arms and holding him there for several moments. He can feel her tremble slightly. “ Henry- where were you? “.

He smiles at her. It hurts, you have hurt her. Again, but he is going to make her smile in the next second so he can weather it. He points at Emma. He thinks of people in films dying in slow motion. Her eyes widen, slowly. Her breath catches, suddenly. She swallows.

“ Miss Swan?” her voice is higher than usual.

Emma smiles and exhales a shy “Hi “.

His mom gapes at her. “ Why- how” she glances at Henry. “ Henry?” .

“ I found her, for you “ he smiles at her. “She is going to make it all better”.

He thinks back to these awful pre-discovery months, and the hurt she must have hidden behind anger. “ There is no need. Everything is fi- “.

“ No it isn’t! And you should stop pretending it is” his voice cracks, he blinks furiously.

He grabs her hand. “ Mom” he wants to say “I am sorry” and scream at her for not trusting him at the same time. He wants to ask what is going on, while at the same time he is terrified of discovering what exactly is hurting her. He wants things to seem simple again, but he knows he can’t.

She kneels next to him, starts to reach for him. She gives him plenty of time to shrug away, to push her away like had been a carefully practised motion for months. Instead, he sinks into the hug and sobs once. “ I just want you to be happy” he says.

“ Oh Henry- I am. How could I not, with a son like you? “she whispers. She may be crying. She pulls back after a minute, touches his chin briefly before straightening. Her hand rests on his shoulder and he leans against her as she talks to Emma. “ Miss-“.

“ Emma” he can hear her clear her throat. Is he imagining the slight tremble? “ Please call me Emma”.

“ Very well. Emma- can I offer you a glass of the best apple cider you have ever tasted?”.

He opens his eyes just in time to see his mom nervously brush her hair behind her ear and Emma blush as she smiles. “That would be- “ she glances at him. “ I would ask for something stronger, but the kid is there”. His mom arches her brow. She almost doesn’t seem nervous anymore ( she totally is though). “ That is- probably wise”.

“ Yeah “ his mom stares at the flush on Emma’s cheek. Emma stares back at mom’s mouth – she is probably waiting for her to stop staring and start speaking again like he is. Finally, he decides they’re both hopeless and he really wants to stop freezing outside.

“ So….” He grins at the both of them. “ Hot chocolate?”.

He does not get hot chocolate. He gets an admonishment, several weeks without comments and a ‘go to bed, immediately young man”. He pouts and gives his best puppy dog eyes but his mom is unrelenting this night. She mellows a little (though she mostly tries to pretend like she doesn’t want to keep them) as he gives her the signed items. But not enough to even consider letting him stay up.

Then he trudges up the stairs, his attempt at listening to their conversation also thwarted and falls asleep before his mom leaves the room.

There are two things that Emma Swan thinks upon meeting Regina Mills. One: holy actual shit, wow. And two: Bad Idea. Yup, capitalized and everything. She is trying to focus more on two than one (but failing a little as she thinks such pretty eyes. That dress looks amazing on her. How would it look off her? – yeah okay, maybe failing a lot) as she sits on the couch.

She forces herself to focus on two by reciting all the reasons this woman is a Bad Idea. One; she has a kid. He seems pretty awesome- she is aware she should not be mostly impressed and slightly amused by the whole stealing-my teacher’s-credit card-and-dragging-the-famous-lady-home thing but she kind of is. Perhaps it is the memory of the horrible teachers that Emma has had that make it more amusing and impressive than anything else. But despite that- Emma is still not exactly the kind of person that would raise a kid.

Not to mention, is she the kind of person that would be allowed to raise a kid by his overprotective mom? (henry talked a lot about his mom in the car).

And there other reasons. Reasons like how this woman probably has big issues and Emma is a mess that she cannot fix, so how is she supposed to help anyone else ? Reasons such as how she wants to run at the sign of feelings, or how Regina seems to be the kind of person that is very sophisticated and very intelligent and Emma is still absurdly proud of participating in the world series of beer pong. Classy ladies like Regina Mills would never like the kind of girl that tries to force an entire pizza in her mouth when someone dares her to. Right?

Also, does she even like girls? Henry sort of implied, but-

Oh fuck. Emma’s stomach actually jolts as their fingers brush, and she almost yanks her hand away. Regina seems cool as a cucumber- except Emma quickly realizes she is not. She presses a hand to her stomach, like she has the same annoying sensation Emma does.

“ Your son is very- “.

“ Disobedient?” Regina says, sighing as she settles down on the couch.

“ I was going to say inventive, probably”.

She chuckles. “ Well, he is that too”.

“ So uh- “ she searches for something to say that will not be hugely embarrassing for her. “what do you do? For a living”.

“I am mayor”.

“ That… explains the house and clothing”.

“Yes” they sip their drinks in slightly awkward silence. Emma studies the woman, noticing she is still tense – although that could also be her modus operandi. Emma definitely wouldn’t be surprised.

“Thank you for bringing my son home”.

“ Uh no problem. Anyone would’ve done it” she grins. “Besides, he is pretty convincing”.

“ That he is” the gentle look that she gives Emma makes her nearly shatter the glass in her hand. “ Thank you”. “ You just said that”.

She chuckles awkwardly. “ I am aware. I was just- “ she seems to not really notice Emma for a moment, staring at the wall. “ I thought he would not return this time”.

“ Ah. Kid – uh has he done a lot of running?” it is none of her business. And usual, she would do pretty much do anything to avoid emotional landmines like this, but there is something about the woman next to her that makes it almost easy to stay.

“ He discovered he was adopted and – “ Emma puts down the glass and nearly reaches for the woman’s hand. She seems –

“ Suffice to say, he did not take it well. He ran away several times and – you never get accustomed to that. You keep being terrified”. She shakes herself , puts on a smile. Emma is both thrown off and kind of impressed how that smile almost seems genuine.

“ Well, but that is in the past. Miss Swan, do you- “.

“ Emma. And the kid- he is worried about you” she says it very carefully. Regina stiffens nonetheless. She is closing more and more with the second, her jaw tightening and her eyes losing all warmth- Emma only notices she has grasped the woman’s bicep when Regina gasps and stares down at the fingers curled loosely around her bicep.

Emma slowly lets go. “ I am not- it is none of my business. It really isn’t. And you can always tell me to fuck off. But I also think the kid might be right that something is going on”.

“ And why, pray tell, would you assume something like that?”

“ You have bags beneath your eyes. The kid only ran away today, so that cannot be causing it. You seem to have lost weight- from worry, perhaps. But I am not sold. And you startled pretty terribly when I walked towards you”.

“ You were suddenly behind me”.

“ Yeah. You know- “ Emma hesitates only a second, not comfortable sharing things about herself and not liking having to think back to the moment it happened. But Regina is quickly starting to look angry and for some reason, she really wants to avoid that. “ I am an orphan. The longest time I had a family was three years. They sent me back when they got their own child”

She automatically grits her teeth, feeling that anger , that sense of ‘it is not fair’ which means she represses all of this shit until- her muscles lose their tension slowly, she stares at the hand on her knee before swallowing and continuing.

“ I saw a lot of shitty homes. I saw kids being beaten and neglected and all that mess. When I got out- I kept contact with some of them. I wanted to forget all of that, but some- I had actually made some friends”

she looks at Regina again. “There was this one girl, Lily. She didn’t tell me everything. But I have heard and seen enough to know there was a lot of trauma. And – she used to flinch whenever there was a loud sound, or someone was suddenly behind her or someone came too close. And she had these insane mood swings. You could be laughing with her one moment and the next she would suddenly threaten to punch someone for bumping into her, you know?”

‘ What is your point?”.

“ I don’t know your life. I don’t know you. But I can recognize trauma anywhere”.

Regina stiffens. “ I am not going to make choices for you, or try to get you to talk to someone about it. Don’t worry, I am not much a talker myself. But- ‘ she very carefully lays her hand atop Regina’s . “if you ever need me to distract you again by finishing an insane obstacle course- “ seriously Swan? She winks. “ Just call me. I would love to”.

Regina chuckles, then sighs. “ Henry told you, did he not?”.

“ Uh-huh. So what had you so distracted then?” she asks, semi-innocently. Regina presses her lips together, then throws her glass back. She grabs the bottle that she had placed on the table and fills the glass again.

“ No, seriously” Emma says, offering Regina her own glass when she arches her brow and glances at the bottle. It is probably a horrible idea to keep drinking and sit with this gorgeous, likely traumatized (straight?) woman but Emma is still the queen of bad ideas. Sometimes.

“You have no proof” Regina says, smirking a little.

“ I have a witness!”.

“ But is he reliable?”.

“ Are you calling your own son unreliable?”.

“ No, I am merely stating that he may have exaggerated. What exactly did he tell you?”.

“ That you were so distracted by my abs that you forgot how to walk” it is paraphrasing.

“ That is not what happened, at all”.

“ Well, what happened madam mayor”. She could swear Regina looks a little excited at her challenging tone.

“ I have a right to remain silent”.

“ That just makes it all very suspicious though “.

“ Hardly”.

Emma glances at her glass with confusion; when had she emptied it? She shrugs and lets Regina fill it again. The jolt is stronger this time, and she hears Regina’s breath stutter. “ So tell me”.

“ Are you going to continue needling me?”.

‘ Yes. Until you give in and tell me”.

Emma nearly spills cider on herself as Regina smirks at her. She nearly drains the glass in her, which is like the worst decision ever for Regina chooses that moment to lean in, squeeze her knee and say “ I have great stamina”.

Emma only barely keeps from choking or spitting cider all over the expensive couch.

“ That’s – is this that competitive shit Henry talked about or are you just- “ .

Emma feels vaguely insulted at the eye roll and muttered “idiot” before she is unable to feel anything but a feeling like ‘hell fucking hell yes” as Regina leans in again and it is pretty obvious what is going to happen. Except she gets impatient so she blindly puts the drink down and pulls Regina’s lips to her own. She feels her affronted gasp, but ignores it to kiss her. And kiss her. And kiss her some more.

Unfortunately, Emma still has to breathe so she is forced to pull back when she is actually starting to see black spots. She licks her lips, that taste of cider and lipstick and something that is just Regina. She starts to lean in again, grinning as she hears Regina’s very irregular breathing. Inches from her lips, she stops. “ Tell me?”.

“ I will destroy you- “ the woman beneath her starts to growl and Emma cannot even be sure whether the shivers are fear or pleasure because wow that is kind of terrifying, but also hot when there are hands grabbing her tank top and roughly pulling her head down. She quickly forgets all about things like words as lips start to move against hers.

She kind of gets her answer anyways, because Regina keeps touching her arms and mutters ‘beautiful’ as she glances at them during the spare moments they remember breathing. Emma just smiles smugly and dives in again, ignoring the fact that she has her own weakness- which is mostly the sounds Regina makes and how wonderful she feels, but also that lip scar that she keeps tracing.

She wordlessly rolls off Regina as she feels the gentle pressure against her chest, studies the woman as they lay side-to side and with their legs entwined because of the little space the couch has. Regina had been bold and controlled, but now she almost seems shy. And flustered because of more than what has Emma’s throat really dry.

“ Are you okay?”.

“ Ye-“ Regina clears her throat. “ Yes. I am fine. I just-“ she smiles, kisses Emma one last time. “ I just cannot believe this is happening”.

“ Uh same here. You are – “ Emma just shakes her head. “ Wow”.

Regina looks both pleased and like she doesn’t fully believe it. “ You are beloved by millions, Emma, so I am sure I am the one that is supposed to say that”. “ You know, that is not as impressive as it seems. Have you ever seen people react to cat videos? I am nothing compared to the cat videos, Regina”.

She grins when Regina chuckles. “I still maintain that you are quite ‘wow’, Emma Swan”.

“ And I maintain my earlier thought of ‘holy fucking shit, wow “.

Regina groans a little. “ That is just-“.

“ well-put?”.

“ No, it has too many swear words”.

“ Two! It has two swear words”.

“Out of four. That is 50% “.

“ Picky”.

“ Shut up” Regina mutters, her eyes drifting close.

“ Regina “

“ Hm?”.

“ Should I not bring you to bed?”

“How presumptuous of you. I am not a groupie, miss Swan”.

“ Yeah, I totally did not mean it like that. But should you not have a bed so you can actually have a good night rest?”

She feels Regina’s smile as she is kissed again. “ Goodnight, Emma”.

“ Oh okay. Good night”.

Usually, Emma would sprint towards her car after emotions like this. But with Regina’s arms around her and her slowly evening breath and her soft murmers, running is the last thing on her mind.

#swan queen #emma regina #celebrity au #Regina is a dork and a bit of a fangirl #Emma is the very muscular famous person #Henry is the kid that schemes and loves his mom #Ruby .. is just stunned that Mayor Mills is a dork

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tinuviel-undomiel · 6 years

Text

Because of H.P. Lovecraft Part 1

For @thedooblydont. I hope you enjoy your present. Sorry if I’ve been absent this week, but I’m currently at Disney World. I did have fun writing your gift. I hope it is just as much fun for you reading it.

My apologies if I butchered Lovecraft. I’ve never read him before. Also, I’m sorry this is In two parts. I’m on mobile and it said it was too long as one story.

Prompt: Cat, potatoes, Cthulhu, candlelight, elves.

It wasn’t a surprise when the engagement announcement for Mr. Alexander Gold and Miss Isabelle French appeared in the newspapers. Indeed, the two had been inseparable for over a year now, and much to disgruntlement of some, were not shy in expressing their affection for one another in public. When they had first become an item, the gossips raged over the peculiarity. Miss French was a sweet girl, ran the public library, and helped with all of the town’s various festivities. Meanwhile, Mr. Gold was a temperamental landlord who regularly threatened eviction or rent increases whenever excuses were given instead of money. He was a good father, but that was about the only kind word bestowed upon him. However, now no one bat an eye when they caught them strolling hand in hand down Main Street, or having a kiss under the mistletoe at the mayor’s Christmas Party (though they were later caught stepping out of the closet looking more than a bit disheveled).

At first, the notice was hardly unusual. It started off with the typical, “Mr. Alexander R. Gold and Miss Isabelle Jane French are proud to announce their engagement. The happy couple are anticipating a December wedding, invitations and details to follow. The bride and the groom would like to add that their joy would not be complete without the addition of the groom’s son, Bailey Gold.”

None of that was peculiar, albeit lacking in some rather ordinary details. It was the final sentence that truly captured the eye. “A special thanks are owed to H.P. Lovecraft, for which none of this would be possible.”

Some of the younger generation had no idea who Lovecraft was, but the elders were happy to explain. This led to everyone wondering just how a long dead author could be responsible for the upcoming nuptials of the most peculiar couple in Storybrooke, Maine.

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It was stereotypical for people to assume that a library needed to be absolutely silent. They imagined a stern, old woman with grey hair pulled tightly in a bun, bifocal lenses perched on the nose, pilling old cardigans and droopy wool tights. Belle had only worn such a getup once, on Halloween two years ago for a laugh. No, Belle was not what the town of Storybrooke had imagined for a librarian. She preferred sundresses and skirts that flattered her figure, loose, curling brown hair around her shoulders, and high heels to give her that extra few inches genetics had not been kind enough to bestow upon her. She also loved listening to music as she shelved books. Currently, she had Frank Sinatra playing from the speakers, though she was considering switching over to Adele later.

She was singing along to “Luck Be a Lady” when she someone clear their throat from behind her. “Just a moment,” she said, stretching up to put away one last book. The stepladder she was on wobbled just a bit, but she managed to hold her footing. She trotted back down to solid ground, turning to see who was there, but she already had a sneaking suspicion. “Ah, Mr. Gold, how lovely to see you again.”

When Belle had first arrived in Storybrooke she was warned by four people, not including her father, that Mr. Gold was a ruthless man not to be trusted. However, she had learned from Jane Austen that first impressions are not always truthful and reserved her judgment for herself. Oh he could be intimidating, that was certain, but when he came in to return a copy of H.P. Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulu and Other Stories, she had known he couldn’t possibly be as terrible as the said. A fellow fan of Lovecraft couldn’t possibly be a monster.

He gave her a warm smile and held out a book for her. “I came to return this.”

“Ah, and how did you like The Mask of Cthulu?”

“It was interesting. Have you anymore you can recommend?”

“For a fellow Lovecraft fan? Of course,” Belle said with a wink. She took his hand, trying to pretend she didn’t feel the jolt of electricity at the warmth of his touch, and led him to her rather dismal science fiction section. She thumbed through the shelves of slightly battered paperbacks until she found the one she was looking for. “Here it is. The Great God Pan.”

She handed it over to Gold, smiling at the way his brow crinkled as he studied the book. “It was written before Lovecraft, but it will have a similar feeling to it. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will,” he said. They looked at each other for a moment, the air thick with what needed to be said but lacking the courage to say it.

Gold turned first, heading towards her desk. Belle followed him, twisting her fingers into a knot. How many books would she have to give him? She was running out of titles she readily had at hand. Truth be told The Great God Pan was her personal copy, one she’d added to the library’s inventory just for him. It was time to be brave or else start buying more books just so she can have the delight of his company for a few moments.

“You know, I would love to talk to you some time about books,” Belle said. Damn! That sounded so pathetic. “I mean, we like so many of the same ones. I thought it might be fun to…well…talk about what we like and dislike about them?”

Gold blinked at her, then he smiled just a bit. “Yes, that would be…fun. How about you come over to my place for dinner some time?”

Holy shit, it had worked! Belle was so stunned that her plan had come to fruition that she didn’t realize that she was staring at him like a dork with her mouth wide open. She closed it, praying that her face wasn’t as red as a tomato now. “I would like that, yes, I would like that very much.”

“Excellent,” he said. She envied that he could be so smooth. “How about Friday night? Is seven good?”

Belle nodded eagerly. That gave her two days to relax, maybe get her hair done, and raid her closet to decide what to wear. “Will Bae be joining us?”

“He’s going to his mother’s for the weekend.”

She tried to bite back her smile. “So you’ll be alone this weekend.”

“Indeed,” he said, “I’ll welcome the company.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.”

“It’s a date,” he told her. Belle glowed at those three words. She finally was going on a date with Alexander Gold.

When Friday rolled around, Belle had lost the glow of finally going out with Mr. Gold. Now her stomach had tied into knots and she was certain she would never find anything to wear. Belle closed up the library a bit early (no one noticed anyways) and went up to her apartment. Her cat, Benny, was lounging in the sun. He perked up when she walked in, hoping for a good scratch behind the ears and maybe a few treats. Belle obliged with the former, but was too rattled to give him the latter. She raced for her closet, throwing open the doors, and scanning everything inside. She had a line of dresses, skirts, blouses, jeans and t-shirts. She figured the jeans and the shirts would be too casual. Come to think of it, she’d never even seen Mr. Gold in anything other than a suit and tie.

Belle looked through her skirts, pulling out a red one that fell a few inches above the knee. Too short. The brown one was too long. The blue one too shiny. She tried her dresses. Too dressy, too boring, too busy, too sparkly. After an hour her entire closet was crumbled on the floor. Benny thought it was a wonderful change and started wallowing in all of the cloths, batting at the fringe on a skirt.

She stood there in her underwear, watching her cat enjoy the mess she had made. “What the hell am I doing?” She was putting too much pressure on herself. Yes, this was a date, but it wasn’t a serious one. For all she knew, Mr. Gold just wanted a friend to chat about books with. Yes, she needed to look good, but she needed to look like she wasn’t trying to look good. And she really needed to clean up her closet before Benny decided to make it a new litter box.

Belle picked up all of her fallen clothes, much to Benny’s chagrin. After fixing herself a cup of tea to settle herself, she decided on a grey pencil skirt with a ruffle on the side for a little flare, and a pink blouse that added some pop. She daringly left an extra button undone. Belle fed Benny before leaving. It was now or never.

She walked to Mr. Gold’s house, turning a few heads, which was a good sign. Still, her heart was pounding against her ribs so hard she was certain she could see it through the silk of her blouse. She knew where his house was, the salmon pink Victorian on Mulberry Street. Ruby had told her that when Gold had bought the place, it was apparently considered an historical landmark. The mayor had refused to let Gold paint it a plainer color. Still, he’d endured Mayor Mills’ smirk at her petty victory and shouldered on. Belle admired the lawn as she walked up. Rose bushes were planted all around, deep reds, pinks and whites. Her father, the florist, would envy such perfect blooms.

She rang the doorbell, taking a deep breath in to quiet her pulse. Mr. Gold opened the door a moment later, smiling pleasantly at her. Belle was a bit surprised by what she saw. He had forgone the jacket, wearing just a plain blue shirt and grey slacks. The sleeves were rolled up just a bit. It was the most casual she’d ever seen him and damn did he look good.

“Belle, you’re right on time,” he said, “I’m sorry, but I’m almost done with dinner. Do come in.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked as she followed him into the foyer.

“Not at all, but thank you,” he said, “I’ve set the table and it’s just a matter of getting everything plated and out of the kitchen.

“It smells wonderful,” Belle said. She got the hint of rosemary and roasted meat.

“Just a pot roast,” he said, “With some potatoes and carrots. I have some tarts from Tiana’s bakery for dessert.”

Belle gasped in delight. “Her raspberry tarts are my favorite.”

His lips twitched slightly. “Really? Well, I’m glad. That is precisely what I got.”

Well if somehow this night went horrible wrong, the tarts would probably make up for it. So far though, she had no complaints. Dinner was set out swiftly on the dining room table. Belle admired the china: white with and oriental blue pattern and a gold rim. He also had a bottle of rich red wine and crystal glasses for them to use. The food looked delicious. A thick, dark gravy surrounded the roast, perfectly roasted potatoes with garlic and rosemary, and carrots glazed with sugar and cinnamon. The lights were dimmed slightly, the lit tapers giving the room a rosy glow.

Mr. Gold filled their glasses and took the seat across from her. The candlelight, the soft music of Mozart coming from the antique record player, they all screamed “date” to her. Perhaps this wasn’t meant to be just a friendly chat after all. Belle took some pleasure in that. This had to mean Gold was interested in her than more than her love of Lovecraft.

“So have you started The Great God Pan yet?” Belle asked him.

“Only just,” he said after sipping his wine, “I’m afraid I haven’t had as much time as I like to read this week.”

She nodded. “You must have enjoyed The Mountains of Madness. You read that collection very quickly.”

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat a bit, “Yes I did enjoy that one quite a bit. Lovecraft was truly ahead of his time.”

“I enjoy the Elders in the story,” Belle said, “His mythos is just so fascinating. Stephen King comes close, but Lovecraft is still the master of building such a powerful universe.”

“Indeed, he is the master.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, dropping her fork. “I wanted to show you something.” She quickly lifted her purse from under the table, dug around in it a bit before she pulled out a book. “I found this a while back. It’s The Call of Cthulhu illustrated. It’s really quite fascinating.”

Gold glanced at the cover, a sea of faces and the image of a horrifying monster with razor sharp teeth. “Later, I was hoping we could just talk and have dinner a bit before we got to Story Hour.”

Belle’s cheeks pinked a bit in embarrassment, but there was also a bubble of joy blooming in her belly. So he hadn’t wanted this to be just about Lovecraft. She smiled and set the book aside to the empty place next to her. “All right. You know, I’ve always wondered, what part of Scotland are you from?”

His brown eyes glittered at her. “Glascow,” he said, “but I left when I was a boy. And where from Australia do you come from?”

“Brisbane,” Belle told him, “We left when I was eleven.”

“Ah, so both of us were young immigrants.”

They shared stories about their homelands. Gold had far more fascinating adventures than her rather unremarkable childhood. He even told her that he and his father had come to America by boat, each working to pay their way across and earn their green cards. He spoke of growing up in New York and later working to pay for college and law school. He was even candid about his divorce, but she’d heard the rumors that the former Mrs. Gold had left him for a sailor already. Apparently, Milah and her boyfriend had semi-settled in Boston for the time being. Mr. Gold had largely raised Bae after she’d left them when the boy was three, only seeing him sporadically.

“That must have been hard,” she said with sympathy.

“Yes, but I like to think he’s worth it,” Gold said with a grin, “Granted, I doubt that when he is blasting his music loud enough for the space station to hear it.”

Belle laughed. “He’s a teenager. I remember being just as loud and obnoxious during those years.”

“Oh I doubt that. I’m sure you were the stunningly beautiful and perfect creature you are now.”

She blushed at his compliment, praying she didn’t knock over her wine glass now or drop gravy on her shirt and ruin his idea of her. She needn’t have worried about ruining the moment because just then the door burst open. “Dad?” she heard a boy call out, “Dad?”

#rumbelle secret santa #thedooblydont #rumbelle #rumbelle fic

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