insist on possibility

notthehurricanedrunk: I know, I know, did she just..? Belle,...

Tue, 21 May 2013 16:23:59 -0400

notthehurricanedrunk:

I know, I know, did she just..? Belle, you minx.

A follow-up set to this one.

“Belle!”

Tue, 21 May 2013 16:22:47 -0400

“Belle!”

quinnfabrai: Swan Queen gayness per episode [1x04]

Tue, 21 May 2013 16:20:14 -0400

quinnfabrai:

Swan Queen ~~gayness~~ per episode [1x04]

fairytaleasoldastime: Emilie de Ravin - Disney Media Networks...

Mon, 20 May 2013 09:56:21 -0400

fairytaleasoldastime:

Emilie de Ravin - Disney Media Networks International Upfronts 2013

fic: when the ship comes in (emma/regina)

Sun, 19 May 2013 14:34:07 -0400

Anon prompted: Swan Queen’s first kiss on the boat and extra bonus points if it’s one of them trying to shut the other up

A/N: Spoilers for “And Straight on Till Morning”

Emma’s not sure why she expected things to be different — why she expected Regina to be different — once they passed through the portal, but she did.

It’s just, before they left Storybrooke, it really did seem like things were getting better, like Regina really did want to change.

And, okay, maybe she’s not being totally fair, because Regina has changed in the sense that she’s no longer actively trying to kill them all. But she’s still being completely terrible, especially to Emma.

It probably doesn’t help that somehow the two of them ended up in the same cabin, bunking together in the tiniest room Emma’s ever been in in her life, neither one of them able to get away from the other for more than twenty minutes at a time.

They’re below deck one night, Emma so tired she can hardly see straight, when Regina starts in on her again, making snide remarks about how Emma let Henry get taken, about how she put him in danger by bringing him down to the mines.

“Stop!” she finally snaps, curling her hands into tight fists at her side, resisting the urge to take a swing Regina.

“I beg your pardon?” Regina says, all wide-eyed innocence, like she couldn’t possibly imagine why Emma’s so upset.

“Stop,” Emma says again, more calmly this time.

She’s trying to keep her voice down. Sound travels obscenely well below deck, something that has led to more than one awkward morning in the galley with David and Mary Margaret.

“It’s not my fault Henry got taken, okay?” she continues. “I was trying to help you. We were all trying to help you.”

“Yes, and what a wonderful job you did, Miss Swan,” Regina says.

The ship lurches suddenly to the right, and they both reach out to steady themselves, bracing their hands against the frame of Regina’s bunk.

“We stopped the trigger!” Emma reminds her. She’s breathing hard and so is Regina, the two of them very close in the tight space of the cabin.

“I was doing just fine on my own,” Regina sniffs.

“You were going to die,” Emma says. She can’t believe they’re having this conversation, that Regina actually blames her for saving her life.

Regina scoffs. “And you suddenly care so much about my well-being.”

“I do!” Emma says, resisting the urge to stamp her foot like a toddler.

“And why is that?” Regina asks.

“Because,” Emma starts and then stops, suddenly realizing how close the two of them are standing, how she can smell the clean, citrusy scent of Regina’s shampoo.

“What a wonderful explanation,” Regina says, rolling her eyes. “It’s so good to feel loved.”

“You know what, Regina?” Emma’s heart feels like it’s beating way too hard, her breath coming fast and shallow, and she’s not sure if it’s rage or claustrophobia or something else, but her whole body feels like it’s buzzing.

“What?” Regina asks, taking a small step towards her, the toe of her ridiculous high heels nudging up against the tip of Emma’s boot.

Regina’s so close that Emma can feel breath puffing warm against her lips, and Emma’s suddenly lightheaded, the floor of the cabin rocking unsteadily with the waves, her heart still pounding away in her chest.

“Miss Swan?” Regina says. “Are you—”

Emma kisses her before she even realizes what she’s doing, closing the small amount of space between them, and pressing her lips hard against Regina’s.

Regina only hesitates for a second before she’s kissing her back, opening her mouth under Emma’s and reaching up to cup one hand against the back of Emma’s neck, her fingers tangling in Emma’s hair.

Regina’s lips are chapped, and she tastes like the ocean, like salt and sunlight, and she gasps into Emma’s mouth as the boat shifts again, the movement forcing them apart.

The air in the room feels thick, and Emma can’t seem to catch her breath, and oh god, oh god, what is she doing?

Regina’s just looking at her, her eyes dark and her lips red and swollen. She’s still got her hand cupped against the back of Emma’s neck, and after just a moment she pulls Emma forward again so that their bodies are flush, pressed together from their shoulders to their hips.

When the ship rocks with the waves, Regina kisses her again, the two of them holding each other steady as the floor of the cabin sways beneath their feet.

The most powerful magic of all.

Sun, 19 May 2013 10:28:03 -0400

The most powerful magic of all.

fic: i'll be there to hold your hand (belle/rumpelstiltskin)

Sun, 19 May 2013 10:24:00 -0400

Anon prompted: Rumbelle conversation in Gold’s shop just after reunion? And he has serious emotional breakdown during it so Belle comforts him and do everything she can to help him.

A/N: Spoilers through “And Straight on Till Morning”

Belle’s not sure how long they stand there like that, holding each other in the dim light of Rumpel’s shop, her mind is still reeling as she tries to process everything that’s happened, everything that’s still happening.

When Rumpel finally pulls away, he’s got a blank look on his face, his eyes glassy and unfocused, and for one horrible moment, Belle’s afraid he’s going to pass out.

There’s a cot in the corner of the room, pushed up against the wall, and Belle leads him over to it, the two of them walking slowly as he leans on her, his cane forgotten near the workbench. She helps him sit, wincing in sympathy as his bad leg knocks up against the metal corner of the frame. He hardly seems to notice, still just staring blankly ahead.

“I’m so sorry about Baelfire,” she says, sitting next to him, close enough that their hips are pressed together. When she brushes a loose strand of hair out of his face, he leans into her touch, closing his eyes, a tear snaking its way down his cheek.

“I failed,” he says again, and he sounds so broken and so lost it makes her chest hurt.

“No,” Belle tells him, reaching up to wipe the tear away with the pad of her thumb. “No, you didn’t. You helped him meet his son.”

He shakes his head. “He died because of me.”

Belle bites her lip, wishing she knew what to say to make this better. Finally: “What happened?”

“He was shot,” he tells her, this look on his face like he still doesn’t understand, like it doesn’t make any sense. “And then he fell through a portal.”

“A portal?” Belle repeats quietly. “To where?”

“I don’t know,” he says, his voice breaking. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

“You can’t give up hope, Rumpel,” she tells him, twining her fingers through his. His hand is cool in hers, his fingertips rough and calloused, their hands pale against the cheap black fabric of her dress.

“I can,” he tells her. “I have.”

“Well, I haven’t and I won’t,” she tells him decisively. She squeezes his fingers a little, smiling slightly when he squeezes back. “You’ll see your son again, I know you will.”

He just shakes his head, and he suddenly looks very old, like all of the centuries have finally caught up to him.

Belle wants to say something else, to try to reassure him, to get him to believe that all hope doesn’t have to be lost, but her head’s still a little fuzzy from the spell being broken, so instead, she just leans over and kisses him, not sure what else to do.

After only a moment, he kisses her back, his mouth tasting of scotch and tears as he clings to her desperately, like he’s terrified of ever letting her go.

fic: it's a metaphor (emma/regina)

Fri, 17 May 2013 20:09:52 -0400

Anon prompted:Regina watching Emma and Hook practice sword fighting. Hook is being his usual crude self, and Regina gets jealous. One of the others points this out

For some reason, Hook is convinced that Peter Pan of all people is some kind of a threat to them all, and he’s taken to offering sword fighting lessons to all aboard.

The only one who takes him up on the offer is Emma, the rest of them apparently smart enough to realize that Hook’s authority on pretty much anything is not to be trusted.

So Hook and Emma spend hours each morning practicing on the upper deck, Charming and Snow taking over the steering of the ship, the two of them easily occupied while their daughter wastes her time waving a piece of metal at an inept pirate.

Regina only watches these practice sessions because there’s not much else to do aboard the Jolly Roger, and if she has to spend one more minute dealing with the alternating looks of pity and suspicion the Charmings keep throwing her way, she’s probably going to try to toss one of them overboard. Which would honestly just complicate things and make finding Henry that much more difficult, so. She occupies her time watching Emma waste hers.

“That’s it, love, just slide it right in,” Hook says with a leer.

Emma rolls her eyes, which makes Regina feel at least a little bit better. Not that she cares what happens between Hook and Emma, of course. It’s just, she’d rather Emma not waste her time with an idiot like Captain Hook when their son’s life is at stake.

“Delightful, isn’t he?” Gold asks, coming up beside her.

Regina almost jumps. He’s been strangely quiet thus far, spending most of his time below deck, avoiding everyone else on board whenever possible.

“Oh yeah,” Regina says flatly, just as Hook winks at Emma, running his tongue suggestively over his lower lip. “And so subtle, too.”

“Well,” Gold says, turning to look at her, his gaze level. “Miss Swan doesn’t seem immune to his charms.”

“Please,” Regina scoffs. “Hook’s an idiot. And she’d better spend her time learning to harness and use her magic, rather than playing at duels with that moron.” She nods her head derisively at where Hook’s grinning at Emma’s attempt at a parry.

“You sound jealous, your majesty,” Gold tells her, with something like his old flair, his mouth curving up into a mocking smile. “Not that I’d blame you. Hook is quite the stealer of hearts, and Miss Swan’s seems quite ripe for the picking.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Regina snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at where Hook’s standing behind Emma, wrapping his arms around hers and guiding her movements with his hands on her wrists. Ugh, must he be so obvious about it? “I couldn’t possibly care less about Miss Swan’s heart.”

“Yes, of course,” Gold agrees, and she doesn’t even need to look at him to know he’s smirking at her. “And yet. Here you are.”

“I’m only here,” Regina says, turning to stare at Gold, her lips curling up into a smirk. “To make sure nothing happens that my son won’t forgive me for. You know what’s that like, don’t you, Rumpel?”

Gold flinches, just the slightest of movements, but it’s enough to let Regina know she’s hit her mark. The victory feels strangely empty.

“I do,” Gold confirms, the pain in his voice so raw that Regina has to look away from him, turning her attention again to Emma and the pirate.

“Well,” she says, staring right at Emma, willing Rumpelstiltskin to look away from her, wishing he’d go back below deck, wishing he’d go back to mourning his own son so she doesn’t have to think about mourning hers. “I still think Emma’s wasting her time. And ours.”

“You may be right,” he says with a shrug, his voice going dull and flat again as he looks out into the horizon. “Maybe Miss Swan won’t be stolen from you after all.”

And Regina’s going to snap at him, tell him she doesn’t care what Miss Swan does or doesn’t do, tell him that Emma’s life is none of her concern, but he’s already turned away, heading back to the cabin below deck, his gait slow and deliberate as he leans heavily on his cane.

Across the deck, the lesson is wrapping up, Emma sheathing her sword as Hook babbles on about blade length and girth.

When he turns away, Emma glances over at Regina, shaking her head and rolling her eyes, a half-smile on her face, and Regina has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling back.

Fic: Next Stop Neverland (Belle/Rumpelstiltskin)

Fri, 17 May 2013 19:51:43 -0400

Fic: Next Stop Neverland (Belle/Rumpelstiltskin):

Title: Next Stop Neverland
Summary: Belle meant what she said to Rumpelstiltskin at the docks. Now she just needs to figure out a way to make it happen…
A/N: Spoilers for “And Straight on Till Morning” (2x22)

After Belle leaves the docks, she carries the enchantment back to Rumpel’s shop, clutching the delicate scroll in her hand as she walks through the center of town, careful not to bend it or crush it.

Things are calm once more, no terrified townspeople running wildly through the streets, no vines snaking their way through the windows and doorways of all the buildings.

The town looks totally normal, and Belle forces herself not to think about all the ways it’s not normal – all the ways it might never be normal again – because she needs to get to the shop so she can perform the magic Rumpel has entrusted to her, to keep Storybrooke safe now that all of its protectors have gone.

Read more @ AO3

To the anon who just sent me the SwanQueen kissing to shut the other one up prompt: You are my new...

Fri, 17 May 2013 13:51:55 -0400

To the anon who just sent me the SwanQueen kissing to shut the other one up prompt: You are my new favorite person <3333

fic: lost at sea (emma/regina)

Fri, 17 May 2013 11:02:00 -0400

Anon prompted: rumple tells regina only true love could have stopped the failsafe, emma overhears

A/N: set post-“And Straight on Till Morning”

****

If Emma had known this was what falling through the portal in Hook’s ship would entail, she would have spent more time looking for an alternate route.

Because this just…it sucks, is the thing. Being stuck on the ship sucks. The cramped quarters suck. Hook’s constant, creepy innuendos suck. And the fact that she hasn’t been alone in more than three days sucks even more.

And then, on the evening of the fourth day, she finds herself alone. Completely, blessedly, amazingly alone.

She’s on the lower deck, as far as she can get from Hook’s place at the wheel, sitting near the sails, her back pressed flush against the cold, hard wood of the mast as she stares out into the darkness beyond the ship.

She must be pretty hidden from view, because when Gold and Regina walk by, neither one of them even glance in her direction, the two of them engrossed in what appears to be a fairly intense conversation.

They stop just a few yards from her, both of them leaning against the rail of the prow, and Emma leans forward. She’s not eavesdropping, exactly. More like…gathering information that she might need.

After all, they’ve got no idea how they’re going to get Henry back, so having as much information as possible doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

“So tell me, dearie,” Gold is saying, tapping one thin finger against the polished gold of his cane. “How exactly did you manage to deactivate the trigger?”

For some reason, Emma’s stomach flips and her hands start tingling, like there’s still some residual magic there, like that time with Regina in the mines is something she hasn’t quite gotten over yet.

“Magic, of course,” Regina replies, shrugging one shoulder and staring out at the water.

“Magic?” Gold repeats. It’s dark, but the moon is bright and Emma can see the way he furrows his brow, like Regina’s answer doesn’t make sense.

“Yes, Rumpel,” Regina says, sounding bored. “Magic.”

“I see,” Gold says, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smirk. Well, that can’t be good. “Was it a spell? An enchantment? Sheer force of will?”

“No,” Regina says, sounding uncomfortable. “I drained the magic from the diamond until it had been rendered useless.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Mr. Gold says, looking at Regina in a way that makes Emma a little nervous, like he already knows the answers to all the questions he’s asking.

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you’d merely attempted to drain the magic, you’d be dead, as would everyone on this ship,” Gold says, flourishing his hand and glancing in Emma’s direction. For just a moment, she thinks he must see her, his gaze seeming to fall right on her, but then he’s looking back at Regina, his expression neutral.

Emma lets out a quiet, shaky breath, and pulls her knees closer to her chest, pressing her back harder against the mast, wincing as she bumps into the rigging, the rope knocking loudly against the wood.

Regina turns quickly, her eyes scanning the deck, searching for the source of the noise. Emma holds her breath. Finally, Regina turns back towards Gold. “I may have had a little help,” she admits.

“I thought so,” Gold tells her, folding his hands against the handle of his cane. “And who did you find to assist you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Mere curiosity, dearie.”

“Fine,” Regina says, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out towards the water, away from Gold. “It was Emma.”

He just smiles, his gold tooth glinting brightly in the pale light of the moon.

“What?” Regina demands.

“You do know, your highness, that there’s only one kind of magic strong enough to break such a curse,” Gold says, and Emma’s stomach drops.

“What are you talking about?” Regina demands.

Emma should leave, she should step out of the shadows, let them know she’s there, she should do anything other than stand here and listen to what she knows is coming. But for some reason she can’t bring herself to do any of those things.

“Why, true love, of course,” Gold says gleefully, and it’s like her heart’s not beating right, like it’s stuttering in her chest.

“You’re lying,” Regina says, but even Emma can hear the doubt in her voice.

“Oh no, dearie,” Gold says, his lips curling up into a cruel, mocking smile. “The only way to defeat the magic of the diamond is with true love.”

“No,” Regina says quickly. “That can’t be right. I…I mean, Emma…” she trails off, reaching out to put one hand on the rail of the deck, like she’s trying to steady herself. Finally: “You’re wrong,” she tells Gold, but her voice shakes a little, unsure and confused.

Gold shrugs, still smiling that small, mocking smile. “No, I don’t think that I am.”

Regina doesn’t respond, just stands there, one hand pressed against the ship’s rail as she stares vaguely out at the water.

“Good night, your majesty,” Gold says, giving Regina a slight, mocking bow as he turns to go. “You too, Miss Swan,” he says when he passes by Emma, not even glancing in her direction. “I trust you’ll both sleep well.”

Regina whips around to stare at where Emma’s lurking in the shadows, a look on her face that Emma can’t quite read, like she doesn’t know what how to process what Gold’s just said. Like she doesn’t know if she wants to kiss Emma or to kill her.

Emma takes a step toward her, and then another, her heart just racing away in her chest as she thinks about those moments down in the mines, the shimmer of the magic as it flowed between them, bright and warm and alive.

munkinette replied to your post: fic: mirror, mirror (belle/rumpelstiltskin) Crying! I haven’t...

Thu, 16 May 2013 20:02:54 -0400

munkinette replied to your post: fic: mirror, mirror (belle/rumpelstiltskin)

Crying! I haven’t cried watching the finale, but I am crying reading this. That’s how good it is! If something like this gets to happen on the show, I’m going to die. :p Um… any chance for a sequel? *battles eyelashes* :)

Aw, thank you! I’m glad you liked it <3

And, I might write a sequel? Or maybe turn this into a full story? idk, idk. I’m basically test-driving mini-stories until I land on the post-finale multi-chapter I want to write, and I kind of like the idea of the magic mirror to make some cross-realm Rumbelle communications while they’re separated :)

fic: mirror, mirror (belle/rumpelstiltskin)

Thu, 16 May 2013 19:21:00 -0400

Anon prompted: Rumbelle: “You have to come back to us!”

A/N: Set post-“And Straight on Till Morning”

*******

Belle finds the mirror in the back of the pawn shop, tucked away behind a creepy pair of wooden dolls and an ancient spinning wheel.

It’s old, the ornate silver handle so tarnished it’s almost black, and the glass itself is stained with dozens of small black specks.

She’s not even sure why she notices it, let alone why she picks it up, glancing curiously at the marred surface. There’s just something about the glass, a strange violet shimmer, barely visible through the stains.

It’s magic, Belle realizes, the tell-tale purple glow faint but definitely there. She holds it in both hands, squinting down into the glass, trying to determine what the enchantment might be.

Ever since she performed the cloaking spell on the town, she’s getting more familiar with magic, learning how to read its complexities and its moods.

She’s still examining it when the image in the mirror changes, the purple glowing brighter, and suddenly Rumpel’s there, standing just on the other side of the glass, looking tired and sad and alone.

“Rumpel?” she says. Belle tightens her grip on the handle, her heart racing in her chest.

In the mirror, he blinks, doesn’t respond.

“Rumpel!” she calls again desperately, but then the image is flickering, the magic getting dim again, and then she’s left staring at her own reflection, whatever the spell was fading away.

After that she never leaves the mirror behind, has it with her no matter where she goes. Weeks pass, then months.

Every once in a while, she gets a glimpse of something on the other side — the line of a hand, the curve of a shoulder — enough for her to recognize Rumpel, but not enough for her to communicate with him, not enough for him to see that she’s there.

Until one day, it is enough.

She’s at the library, going through the stack of returned books, the mirror sitting on the circulation desk in front of her, when suddenly the violet glow of the magic intensifies, and suddenly Rumpel’s there, staring back at her from the other side of the glass.

“Rumpel?” she asks, not expecting an answer, not anymore, but also not able to keep the hope out of her voice.

Then: “Belle?” His voice is low, so quiet she can hardly hear it, but it’s there, it’s him, and Belle almost sobs in relief. She has missed him so much.

She grabs the mirror, holding it so tightly that the edges of the metal dig into her palm. “Hi,” she says, smiling down into the glass.

“Hey,” he says, his mouth curling up into a smile. His hair’s gotten longer and his cheeks are covered with stubble, giving him a kind of wild, rakish look, but he’s basically the most beautiful thing Belle’s ever seen.

“I miss you,” she says, smiling so hard her face is starting to hurt.

“And I miss you, too, sweetheart,” he says, his voice fading in and out as the mirror’s glow brightens and dims, and Belle knows this isn’t going to last much longer, that she’s going to lose him again.

There’s so much she wants to say to him – that she loves him, that she’s waiting for him, that she knows they’ll see each other again someday – but she knows she doesn’t have much time.

So: “Did you find Henry?” she asks, willing him to not go, willing the mirror to keep working.

He smiles. “We did,” he says, his face lighting up in a way that it rarely does, when he’s really, truly happy.

Belle blinks, a tear falling down onto the mirror. When it lands on the glass, Rumpel’s image fades, blinking in and out, like the reception’s gone fuzzy.

“Rumpel!” she calls desperately. “Please, come back. You have to come back us – to Storybrooke. We need you – I need you, Rumpel. Please.”

She’s begging, she knows, but she doesn’t care. It’s not fair that he’s gone, not fair that this is all they have, even after everything they’ve been through, after how hard they’ve fought.

“Oh Belle,” he says, his voice breaking a little. “I’m trying, love, I am. And I think –” he says, and then the mirror flares abruptly, the magic burning so bright it hurts her eyes.

When the light fades, he’s gone, the mirror only a mirror, and then Belle’s alone again, just her own reflection staring back at her.

“I will see you again”

Thu, 16 May 2013 17:19:39 -0400

“I will see you again”

The Rules 1. Always post the rules2. Answer the questions the person who tagged you gave you and...

Thu, 16 May 2013 17:15:18 -0400

The Rules

1. Always post the rules
2. Answer the questions the person who tagged you gave you and write 11 new questions.
3. Tag 11 people and link them to the post
4. Let them know you’ve tagged them

I was tagged by the awesome shikabane-mai

1. Who is one person you really want to meet?

Bill Clinton, because I’ve heard he is crazy-charismatic (like people rave about how charismatic he is and get kind of giggly and dreamy when talking about interacting with him, which seems so bizarre to me) and I’d like to see that up close.

2. Would you want to be able to read other people’s thoughts?

Not even a little bit.

3. Who’s your favourite character EVER?

Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, M.D.

4. Current OTP? BrOTP?

Current OTP: I’m loving both Rumbelle and Swan Queen right now

BrOTP: Brad and Max from Happy Endings

5. How many hours do you spend on tumblr usually?

On weekdays like 1 because of work; weekends it’s more like 2-3 (But right now I’m on vacation so it’s more like 4-5 every day. Oh, tumblr. You are so weirdly addictive.)

6. When do you usually sleep?

Usually from midnight to 7am (8am if my adorable puppy is feeling extra sleepy; 6am if she’s being a jerk)

7. You can choose how the world ends. How does it end? (Eg. zombie apocalypse, etc)

Giant planet colliding into Earth like in Melancholia. Something quick and not too painful.

8. Can you live without a computer?

Yes, but I’d probably be pretty bored.

9. Favorite food?

Chicken Marsala

10. Guilty pleasure TV show that you watch?

True Blood. I hate it and love it so much.

11. Harry Potter or The Hunger Games?

Oh, this is a tough one. But I’ll go Harry Potter. Mostly because I didn’t really like Mockingjay and the only HP book I didn’t enjoy was The Order of the Phoenix (ugh, Harry was such a brat in that book). So that’s 6/7 for HP, and only 2/3 for THG.

My questions:
1. Do you have any pets?
2. What is your favorite book?
3. What was the last movie you saw?
4. What is your all-time OTP?
5. What is your least favorite episode of your favorite tv show?
6. What is your most favorite episode of your favorite tv show?
7. Mr. Gold or Rumpelstiltskin?
8. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
9. What is the best concert you’ve ever been to?
10. What Hogwarts house do you think you’d be in?
11. What is the meaning and/or story behind your url?

fic: keep your eyes on the horizon (emma/regina)

Thu, 16 May 2013 14:54:00 -0400

Anon prompted: They’re on the ship and Regina gets seasick. Emma helps her.

********

Regina hates boats. She hates the ocean, too. The dense mist of the air, the smell of salt and fish, it makes her stomach roll and her head throb.

It’s been three days and she still hasn’t gotten used to it, the way the ship will lurch and sway at odd intervals, making everything feel strange and untethered.

Hook told her it would help to sit on the deck, to keep her eyes on the horizon, but she’s beginning to think he’s just screwing with her, trying to make her more sick and not less.

At least people are leaving her alone, everyone giving her an even wider berth than usual. Well, almost everyone.

“You okay out here?” Emma asks.

“I’m fine,” Regina says, glancing sidelong at Emma, trying to remain as still as possible, willing Emma to move along so that Regina can get violently ill in peace.

But Emma stays where she is, watching as Regina struggles not to throw up all over Emma’s nice leather boots. “You sure about that, your majesty?”

“Yes, Miss Swan, I’m—” Regina starts then stops, her stomach lurching. She closes her eyes and breathes through her nose, willing herself not to be sick.

“Regina?” Emma says, sounding legitimately concerned and taking a tentative step towards her. “What can I do?”

Regina doesn’t say anything, not trusting herself to be able to talk without getting sick, just closes her eyes and leans her forehead on the smooth, damp rail of the deck.

She expects Emma to leave, but then she’s suddenly touching her, rubbing gentle circles on Regina’s back. Regina leans into her a little without meaning to, concentrating on the feel of Emma’s hand against her, the pattern she’s tracing against the thin fabric of Regina’s shirt.

Somehow, it helps, thinking about something other than how terrible she feels, and after just a couple of minutes Regina stops feeling like she’s going to die. And then the ship hits a rough patch and Regina lurches forward, leaning over the rail to retch into the waves below.

“Jesus, Regina,” Emma murmurs, but she doesn’t move away, just slides her hand up to brush Regina’s hair off her face, gathering it in a bundle at the nape of her neck.

Her fingers are cool and dry against Regina’s neck, and she’s standing so close that Regina can smell her shampoo, the clean citrusy scent strangely soothing compared to the salt-and-fish smell of the air.

After a couple of minutes, her stomach settles enough so that she pushes herself back from the rail, opening her eyes just enough to see the water stretching out in front of them forever.

“Better?” Emma asks from beside her, her breath puffing warmly against Regina’s cheek.

Regina nods slightly, keeping her movements slow and smooth. Emma’s still touching her, still rubbing those wide, soothing circles against Regina’s back.

“Yes, Miss Swan,” she finally manages. “Thank you.”

Emma’s hands stop, her whole body going still, like it’s such a shock that Regina’s expressing gratitude. Then: “You’re welcome,” she says.

After just a second, Regina leans against her and Emma reaches up to smooth a strand of hair back off her forehead as the two of them stand together on the deck of the ship, their eyes trained on the horizon.

frivolouswhim: Regina in different worlds; Fairytale Land,...

Thu, 16 May 2013 11:24:31 -0400

frivolouswhim:

Regina in different worlds; Fairytale Land, Wonderland, Storybrooke.

Photo

Thu, 16 May 2013 11:12:11 -0400

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Thu, 16 May 2013 11:10:13 -0400

regal-song: faithandfearcollide: But what ever do you mean...

Thu, 16 May 2013 11:08:00 -0400

regal-song:

faithandfearcollide:

But what ever do you mean Ginny?

….Oh

Haha! So cute! And there’s Lana making Ginny look even worse, because Lana has to run in heels, lol. Poor Ginny.