#I think these two would try to “out-cheese” each other and whoever is left speechless first loses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carry-on-snowbazzing · 3 years

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My 5 best of 2020 (in 2021 😂)

1. A summer day ☀

"Well, Baz! Do you want to move?" Penelope yelled, already in the car (a certain MG dated 1967).

Simon studied his own reflection in the rearview mirror, running a hand through his bronze curly tuft and resulting in even more messiness.

"A minute!" was the answer from a few floors above the apartment.

Penelope rolled her eyes and picked up her Iphone.

Shortly after, hurried footsteps were heard coming down the stairs and Baz, after closing the door, got into the car.

Simon leaned out of the back seat and kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled and, starting the engine, exclaimed:

"Destination: fun!"

Later there were four of them getting out of the car: Baz with a beach umbrella over his shoulder, Simon struggling with a giant inflatable pink flamingo, Penelope with a cooler bag, and Agatha with another bag, containing beach towels and sunscreen.

"The weather forecasts were right; today’s a perfect day for the sea," Penelope commented as she slipped off her flip-flops and dropped her bag into the sand.

"Edward shines like a fairy!" Simon yelled, putting on a pair of sunglasses and pointing to Baz.

"Stop it, Snow," he laughed, "and give me my glasses back; all this sunshine stuns me."

Trying to ignore them, Agatha took off her cover-up and began to rub off the protection angrily.

"Whoever dives himself last is a pixie!" Simon yelled, throwing his t-shirt and starting to run towards the sea with Penelope at his heels.

Several splashes and laughter later, the two returned wet, smiling and hungry.

Meanwhile, Baz and Agatha had dedicated themselves to crossword puzzles and to the horoscope.

"Agatha, there must be some butter and turkey sandwiches in the cooler," Penelope said as she wrapped herself in her towel.

"I couldn't find anything better for you than beef carpaccio," she said to Baz.

He smiled making 'OK' with both thumbs.

"And for me?" Agatha asked, offended that her friend hadn't thought of her too.

"Fruit salad" she replied. "I know you're on a vegetarian diet."

Agatha blushed feeling a little guilty and muttered something like "Oh, thank you".

Everyone literally devoured their lunch, because, as Simon ruled on his fifth butter sandwich, "The sea makes you hungry."

They gossiped a bit about their old classmates, wondering if Gareth still had his belt buckle as a wand and if Trixie had a fight with his girlfriend.

They lost track of time after falling asleep in the early afternoon sun.

It was the sound of a notification that woke Agatha, who, after seeing her mother's message ('Where are you? Coven party tonight!'), made a shrill sound that woke the others too.

"Damn, I'm in mega-delay!" she complained, sitting up and hastily gathering his things.

Seeing her so agitated, no one dared contradict her and they hurried too.

Before leaving for the return, all already in the car, Simon took out a Polaroid from the trunk (not an easy feat, given the bulky mass of the flamingo) and urged them:

"Wait! Say 'cheese'!"

Everyone posed, waiting for the flash.

Once the picture was taken, Simon reached for the film that had just come out of the instant camera, but found himself clutching a slice of Emmental in his fingers.

Baz couldn't help himself and laughed uncontrollably.

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch!" Simon bursted, but he couldn't bear a grudge and joined in the general laughter.

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2. Shopping (Big & Little) 🥄

"They'll be emptying the mall, those two" Agatha commented, looking at the clock on the kitchen wall and adding another egg to the bowl.

"Probably" replied Penelope, who was handling the curry risotto.

"They've been away for three hours!" Agatha insisted, "and with two credit cards!".

Penelope gave her a look like 'what can we do?' and again consulted the handwritten note attached to the refrigerator with a magnet (shaped like a scone).

"Oh, I forgot the onion!" she moaned after a quick glance, "my mother would kill me if she knew!".

She went back to the stove and for a few minutes they remained silent, one intent on vigorously banging the whips, the other busy slicing the bulb.

Once Agatha had baked the chocolate cake (wiping a non-existent sweat with her glove) and Penelope had remedied her mistake, the girls dropped onto the sofa.

They were just debating which movie to watch that night when they heard the key turn in the lock and Simon exclaim from the entrance:

"We’re at home!"

The two joined them in the living room and Baz asked:

"Curry and chocolate?"

Penelope nodded.

"Sometimes I wish I was a vampire; just smell a dish to understand if the doses are right or wrong," she sighed.

"Shopping?" Agatha asked, looking at the numerous envelopes they both had in their hands and casting a reproachful look at Simon.

"There were the sales" he tried to justify himself, shrugging his shoulders.

"Hurry up; you’ll show us your spoils of war after dinner" Penelope ordered.

"What do you think?" Simon began, smugly showing a set of jeans for Baz and a giant jar of sour cherries scones.

Penelope seemed to try not to roll her eyes.

"I stayed on the intellectual side" Baz said, pulling a stack of books and a pack of pastel highlighters out of a bag.

"I need them for the college" he explained to Agatha, who was trying to get hold of the markers.

"And you haven't seen the piece of resistence!" Simon shrieked, grabbing a smiling Baz by the wrist and dragging him into the nearest room.

They came out moments later walking backwards (in what was supposed to be an imitation of Michael Jackson's moonwalk), so they could only see their backs.

"3, 2, 1 ..." Baz counted.

"Ta daaaan!" Simon exclaimed as they turned at the same time.

They wore matching gray sweatshirts; both had a black molded spoon.

'Big' was written on Baz's, while Simon's 'Little'.

"Awww" the girls screamed in unison, in the grip of a fangirl attack (which managed to make Agatha look adoring too).

"We have a pair for you too" Baz said, handing Penelope a black t-shirt with 'Brownie' on it, while Simon gave Agatha a white one with 'Blondie' on it.

"Thanks, guys" Penelope murmured moved and Agatha initiated a group hug.

photos references

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3. Anniversary 💞

here

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4. Ops! 🧴

Simon knocked for the tenth time on the bathroom door:

"Occupied!" Baz yelled for the tenth time.

"And sorry, but I can't hold it anymore anymore ..."

Simon abruptly released the handle, abandoning his irritated tone.

He let out a cry, muffled by the hands that he immediately brought to his mouth.

Baz was shirtless in front of the mirror, glaring at his own reflection.

Everything was perfectly normal, except for his hair: it had turned from raven to red.

Fawn red.

"If you tell anyone about this, Snow, I will end you" he growled menacingly.

Simon stood there, speechless. When he had regained the use of his mouth, he barely stifled a laugh and intoned:

“Weasley is our king

he always lets the Quaffle in ... "

From Baz's look, he knew it would be wiser to stop, so he did it.

He approached cautiously and asked gently:

"What happened to you?".

"I wish I knew; I was taking a normal shampoo shower" sighed Baz.

Meanwhile Simon had reached the sink and was looking closely at the bottle of the citron and bergamot scented blend.

"It doesn't seem to have anything strange" he then ruled, placing it back on the shelf.

"Indeed; I went to get it from my home in Hampshire; Daphne can only find it in our town's herbalist's shop," Baz replied sadly.

"I really can't explain it" he went on, unable to get over it.

"My sister gave it to me ..." he stopped suddenly.

He clapped her forehead and turned on the lock screen of his smartphone.

"Today is April 1st," he murmured.

He took the vial in one hand and, with the ivory wand in the other, exclaimed:

"Show me your secrets!".

The writing on the label changed from 'Shampoo with citrus notes' to 'Permanent color intense red'.

"MORDELIAAAAA!" he screamed as Simon rolled with laughter.

"April Fool!" he managed to exclaim between a laugh and another.

That’s totally inspired by a fanart of @vkelleyart 💖 : that

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5. Trick or treat? 👻

"Well, Baz! If you don't move, we'll only have the sub-brand candy left!" Simon railed.

With all the peace of mind he could, Baz went down the stairs and joined his screaming boyfriend, who was immediately silent at his sight.

"Morgana, Basilton; you really mean it" Penelope commented, watching him as she lit another candle to put in the Jack o 'lanterns carved by Simon and Baz (which occupied all the flat surfaces of the apartment).

"I've been doing some accurate researches over the last week" he began, making a theatrical gesture in his vampire cloak.

"You even have the same jacket as Gary Oldman" she observed excitedly.

He, in response, gave her a perfidious look, baring his fangs.

Simon was still in his silence and couldn't take his eyes off him.

"What's up Snow, the cat got your tongue?" Baz asked, amused.

He answered with a tongue sticking out and approached him with a raised eyebrow (in perfect Baz style).

"Wow" he commented after kissing him on the cheek.

"Enjoy yourselves!" Penelope exclaimed as they came out hand in hand.

"Where do we go now?" Baz asked.

Simon moved with great ease between one bell and another, meticulously illustrating the specialties offered by each house.

His phrases were: "Here you can always find top quality stuff", or "No, better to avoid an indigestion".

After scouring all the houses on the first five blocks, Simon had an epiphany.

"For a thousand snakes! Baz, we absolutely have to go to the 'Spooky night' party!" he screamed, making him jump.

"Crowley, Snow! Calm down!" he retorted irritably, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

"You don't understand," Simon insisted.

"Our loot is loser when compared to everything you can find there; Strawberry Blood Drip, Every Flavour Beans, Pumpkin PIE, Butterbeer and, hold on ... Oreo with Orange Cream!"

Baz, seeing him so excited ('like a child', he thought), couldn’t say no to him (although he wanted to go home more than anything else; his feet protested against Count Dracula's boots).

"And where would it be?" he asked, trying not to smile.

"A couple of blocks from here; hurry up!" Simon urged him, taking him by the hand and starting to run.

"A delusion!" Simon snapped, leaving the bag full of sweets on the doormat.

"What happened?" Penelope asked Baz, who had just closed the door behind him and limped desperately as he headed for the sofa.

"In short at that damn party they had finished everything and told us our costumes sucked" he explained.

Simon was with his arms folded, all sulking, sitting in the armchair.

"Look at their costumes! And let me have something to eat, rather!" he barked.

Penelope approached him and, looking at him tenderly, reassured him:

"We always have our repertoire of horror films."

Simon shrugged, hitting the nearby lamp.

"And I was prepared for any eventuality," she went on, snapping her fingers and popping up a pack of Oreos with orange cream.

Simon's face cleared, illuminated by a huge grin.

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Ty @letraspal for tagging me 💕

That’s all; hope u like it! 💜

Happy new Year! ✨

#snowbaz #sorry cuz i'm late #my 5 best of 2020 #hope u enjoy

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spartanguard · 6 years

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something in the water, part 6

Emma is sent to investigate a mysterious sea monster appearance in her hometown. Thankfully, her family there knows her secret: that at night, she transforms into a swan. And she knows that whoever the universe thinks her soulmate is, as dictated by the tattoo on her side, won’t be there. Though maybe she was wrong to assume that. And when did a merman start hanging out in the ocean near Storybrooke?

A/N: Getting closer to the end! There will be two chapters after this, and hopefully they’ll post in the next few weeks. Thank you so much for continuing to read and still to the people behind @cssns for putting it all together! Art to come!

By that night, Emma could find a few things to complain about being a swan—mostly food-related—but it was better than properly dealing with people and whatever fallout there was from Killian’s revelation.

(A small, guilty voice told her she should hear him out, or at least give an explanation for the way she was ghosting—swanning?—him, but her wounded heart loudly told it to shut up.)

Snow had come down to check on her that morning and was visibly upset when Emma told her things hadn’t gone well at Killian’s (but assured her it was nothing that bad; as bitter as she was toward him at the moment, everything they did had been completely consensual.)

Snow did also ask if she planned on transforming back soon; Emma just told her she wasn’t sure.

The pair of ducks who were nesting nearby were definitely a bit confused by her presence during the day, but no one else seemed to pay her much mind—until now, of course.

Heavy footsteps made their way down the dock that could only belong to David; she turned and there he was, slightly illuminated by the quarter moon.

“Did you bring me food?” she called out as a greeting.

“Yeah, but you won’t like it,” he answered, then took a seat on the end of the dock and dumped a bowl of stuff onto the water.

She swam up and took a bite, then gagged. “Ugh, kale? Are you trying to kill me? Where are the onion rings?”

“Fried food is terrible for birds. And so is cheese,” he added quickly before she could protest further.

“Fine,” she muttered, while begrudgingly eating; hunger was winning out and swan instincts went for the greens and corn he’d brought down.

“So you stayed a swan all day?” he asked, sounding curious but also like he was getting at something.

“Yeah,” she answered between bites. “Why?”

“Have you ever done that before?”

“Nope.”

“Can I ask why you did today?”

“Can I eat without a damn interrogation?” she barked.

“No.”

“Ugh!” He was such a brother. “I just...wanted to see if I could,” she told him. It wasn’t the whole truth but it was certainly a tiny part of it—she’d never tried to hold it off indefinitely.

“You know I don’t buy that,” David scolded. “Does this have anything to do with the panicked phone call I just got from Killian?”

She nearly choked on a corn kernel. “What?”

“He just called me, freaking out, because you didn’t come over and he didn’t have a way to get in touch.”

“Oh. Guess I lost track of time.” She promptly found the biggest piece of kale there to start eating.

“I told him you got caught up with some work stuff, but Emma, what’s going on? I thought things had been going good with him, but now this, and you’re here, and Snow told me what you told her this morning. What happened?”

She chewed over her food and her words. As much of a sap as David was when it came to love, it was at least possible to have a rational conversation with him about it (well, more than it was with Snow).

Finally, she swallowed and said, “I don’t think Killian is who I thought he was.”

David tilted his head in confusion. “What makes you say that?”

She sighed and told him what had happened last night—not delving into all of what went down on their date, obviously (she didn’t want to scar her brother), but what Killian had unwittingly told her later. “I can’t…I can’t go through that again, David. I can’t take the chance I’m wrong about him.”

Depressingly, he had no response; he just stared at the surface, face scrunched in thought. His silence was disconcerting to say the least.

“What, no offers to go kick his ass? No brotherly tidbits of advice?” He was usually so quick to jump into action with stuff like this; she’d been pretty positive she was going to have to bail him out of jail after Neal broke up with her.

“Emma,” he started with a sigh; oh no—he was using his dad voice. “I get why you’re worried, but I don’t think that whatever Killian isn’t telling you is anywhere near on the level of Neal. He’s just not like that.”

“Do...do you know?”

“No, I don’t; but I know Killian. He’s a good one, Em.”

That little guilty voice just got a bit louder; maybe she had overreacted—but could anyone actually blame her, given her past?

“And Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not like you don’t have some secrets of your own, too,” he lectured, nodding at her—or, more specifically, her present form.

And now the guilty voice was screaming at her, because he was right. (And she always hated when he was; at least he wouldn’t be able to see her pouting.)

Sensing that the conversation was over, David said goodnight and left her with her thoughts, of which she had many. On the one hand, she knew her reasons for keeping her feathered side hidden were completely understandable, given her personal experience and society at large.

So wasn’t it fair to assume that whatever he was hiding, he had an equally good reason for it?

What could be so big that he had to hide it, though? A kid? Addiction? Was he Superman or something? If it was the first two, he had to know she’d be understanding; if the last, well, okay, she could see the need for secrecy there.

And it wasn’t like she had never planned on fanning her feathers for him; she just didn’t know when would be the right time, if ever.

But by the time dawn rolled around, she knew: she had definitely jumped to conclusions, and owed him the chance to explain.

She perched on the dock for her transformation, which thankfully happened normally—she’d been kind of worried that because she held it off once, she might not change back. It was a bit more painful than usual, but she was pretty sure her shaking afterwards had more to do with being naked in near-freezing temperatures than that.

So she made a mad dash into the house—and the hot bath she knew would be waiting for her, bless Snow—while starting to plan her next move: how did she apologize and give him a second chance without letting him know that she knew something was up?

Not for the first time, she thought to herself: what the hell is my life?

Cautiously, and armed with fancy coffee from the little cafe in town, she entered the library later that day.

She’d used her bath earlier to help her decide on a plan of action. In addition to being her designated swim spot in the colder months, it was also a really good way to unwind and let her mind sort things out. Usually, it involved one of her cases; almost counterintuitively, the steam from the water could sometimes help her see things a bit clearer, or at least from a different angle. She’d never have caught that runaway mini-giant otherwise. (Yeah, it was an oxymoron, but apparently he was the runt of his family and only appeared to be taller than average. Nice guy, though, and his brothers were happy to be reunited.)

Anyways, it also helped her realize that, when it came down to it, nothing between them had really changed. Physically, it had, yeah, which she had absolutely no complaints about; but there were already a lot of things that they didn’t know about each other. Whatever this unsaid thing was was simply part of that. And rather than being upset about it now, she just wanted to get to the point that he felt comfortable enough to share it—and she really wanted to get there herself, too.

As usual, he was behind the circulation desk when she walked in. At the sound of the bell, he looked up over his glasses, which, like always, were adorably slipping down his nose. But there wasn’t the usual face-splitting grin that accompanied her visits.

“Hi, Emma,” he said, slowly and guardedly. Which, of course, just made her feel worse, but that was why she was here.

“Hi. I, uh, brought you coffee, again,” she stammered as she approached the desk. (She clearly wasn’t off to a good start.)

“Uh, thanks,” he said, and scratched behind his ear before taking the proffered beverage. But he didn’t take a sip; he just held onto it, staring at it for a moment, before starting, “Look, about the other night—”

“No, it’s—”

“I apologize if—”

“I’m the one who needs to apologize,” she blurted, making him pause. “I’m sorry I bailed on you last night with no explanation. The truth is…” She had to take a deep breath before she launched into the apology she’d decided on earlier. “I got a little freaked out. It’s been a long time since I did...that...and it actually meant something, and was with a guy I liked. And I’ve already told you how that ended, so I kind of got inside my own head about things, even though I know you’re so much better than him. So I know what it probably looked like, and for that, I apologize; it wasn’t anything on your end—it was all on mine. I shouldn’t have doubted you like that, and I’m really sorry.”

She had to take another breath there because she’d basically blurted it all out. She wasn’t sure how he would react, and to her dismay, he didn’t at first—he seemed uncharacteristically speechless, actually.

“I...uh...you like me?” he finally stammered.

Immediately, she blushed. “I figured that was pretty obvious,” she said as the heat rose on her cheeks. They’d had sex, for crying out loud—amazing, soul-satisfying sex—and here she was, feeling like she was back in fifth grade.

“It’s nice to get confirmation,” he replied, smirking, before turning serious. “I appreciate your apology, though I certainly wasn’t expecting it; I know how things can get in the heat of the moment and was worried we’d moved too fast. So, thank you for telling me all that,” he effused, placing his hand over hers where it rested on the counter. “This may be a bold proclamation,” he said, swallowing, “but I hope I can rebuild your trust enough that you can forget all about that arse and never have reason to doubt intentions again.”

He was telling the truth. She gave him a tiny smile, and told him, “I hope so, too.” Which was possibly an even more daring idea, coming from her.

It wasn’t a declaration of love or undying devotion, or anything sappy like that. But for both of them, it meant they were looking ahead, and that was something she knew neither of them had done in ages.

The air between them grew heavy, but not with passion—just with a deep sense of understanding and affection. To make the moment perfect, she rose up on her toes, leaned onto the desk to grab his open collar, gently brought him close, and kissed him softly but solidly. The edge of the counter cut into her stomach but she really didn’t care, and hardly noticed when she was kissing such a fantastic man.

(Who was also an amazing kisser, by the way, so it’s not like she would have noticed anything short of the building catching on fire—which, if they didn’t let up, might happen as the heat rose between them.)

Reluctantly, they broke apart for air and she fell back on her heels, licking her lips. His eyes were closed, those long lashes lying against his cheekbones, as an almost silly little smirk took over his mouth. He was so damn cute she couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

He made a production of blinking and coming back to reality at the sound. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just adorable.”

She expected a protest, but he just replied, “Damn right, I am.” And then they both giggled, since that was apparently their mood; damn, now they were both acting like school kids. (But she couldn’t help it if this mini-make-up had her feeling as excited as one.)

“So, to make up to you for last night, can I take you out tonight? There’s a little place across town that isn’t Granny’s,” she offered.

He smiled, but it faltered. “I’d love to, but today...well, it’s Liam’s birthday.” His expression sat on the border of apologetic and mournful. “So I always go for a sail, in his memory. You’re more than welcome to join me, of course.”

She quickly berated herself for assuming he’d be free; how self-centered was that? Especially when he had something like that going on. She’d definitely been spoiled by his attentions the past few days. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose like that, especially with my weird curfew and everything,” she answered, trying to cover up her disappointment. “How about tomorrow night, then?”

“Are you sure? I can postpone.”

“No; go. That’s important. Just be safe; Maine weather blows.” Literally—the forecast called for a storm tonight, with potential for freezing. In May. What the hell?

“I’ve noticed,” he chuckled. “And I will. But then: definitely tomorrow.”

“Good. I can’t wait.” She didn’t normally admit stuff like that but she was on a roll with it today; may as well continue.

“Me either, love.” Without another word, he strode around the counter to pull her into his arms for another deep kiss.

(And maybe a few more.)

Until he pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. “As much as I’d love to carry this on, Snow’s class will be here sooner than I’d like—”

“—And we’d never hear the end of it,” she finished.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines that I’m supposed to be giving a literature lesson rather than a biology one,” he quipped.

She snorted; what a nerd. “Yeah, that too. Okay, until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow,” he echoed, then gave her another soft kiss.

“Oh, wait!” she nearly shouted, just remembering something. “Give me your phone!”

He tilted his head to the side in curiosity as he did as asked, pulling his phone from his back pocket and handing it over. She tried not to think about the fact that it had been in such close proximity to his perfect rear end as she plugged her number into it and hit the dial button. “So you don’t have to go through David again.”

“That’s helpful,” he commented. “We probably should have done that a while ago.”

She shrugged. “Better late than never?” They’d been seeing each other so often that they didn’t really need it.

“Definitely.” He glanced at the time when she handed the device back. “But now we really might be cutting it close with Snow.”

“Okay; I’ll run. Have fun, be safe, et cetera. Bye!” she blurted, placing one last kiss on his lips before making a dash for the door.

And it was just in time, because she heard a gaggle of voices, including Snow’s, approaching as soon as she got outside and went to hide in the alley next to the building. Obviously, she wasn’t ashamed of anything; she just didn’t need that pressure hanging over her. So she waited there until she heard the door shut after the last student went in, while she programmed Killian’s number into her phone (and added a blue heart after his name, just to make this morning full-on preteen girl).

Once the coast was clear, she pocketed her phone and headed back down the street, on her way to Granny’s for some actual food; she was still starving after the last day or so in swan mode, despite the entire box of Pop-Tarts she ate that morning.

She hadn’t made it a block when her phone started buzzing, so she pulled it back out; Regina was calling. That wasn’t really surprising; they’d only exchanged a couple brief texts over the last couple days, and she was due back in a few. She answered with a cheery “Hello!”

“Emma? Is that you?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure no one had stolen your phone.”

“Why?”

“You’re so...cheery.”

Ugh, this was exactly why she had avoided talking to her on the phone last week, wasn’t it? “Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?”

“Oh, no, you are; it’s just...a change. I told you you needed a vacation!”

She chuckled. “Yeah, you were right. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in on the assignment. Did you find anything?”

“Yeah, actually; turns out there’s a merman here.”

“Wow, really? In Storybrooke?”

“Apparently. I haven’t talked to him, but anytime I saw him, it matched the description. Not sure what else it could be.”

“Well, that’s good enough for me. Let Cruella know and then enjoy the rest of your trip, then.”

“Will do. How are things there? Anything more on your case?”

“Eh, nothing good. Actually, maybe you should get in touch with that merman—we had a mermaid go missing the other day.”

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah. She’s married to a human and he came in to report it. And guess who he works for.”

“Gold.” It made her stomach turn; why couldn’t they nab this guy? “When I come back, I’m helping you on that.”

“We’ll see. Only if we can do it safely; I’m not risking you, or anyone else.”

Ugh, she hated when Regina was rational about these things. “Gotcha. Anything else?”

“Nope, unless you want to bring me back some Granny’s lasagna.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Alright. See you Monday.”

“Bye.”

She wasn’t going to think about how few days she had left here as she traipsed across Granny’s patio and into the diner; she was just gonna get some food, run by Cruella’s, wrap up this assignment, and then enjoy the rest of the time here with Killian, and they’d figure out what came next when they needed to.

That’s what she was assuring herself as she went through the door when she collided with someone—someone covered in fur.

“Emma, darling! So sorry, I didn’t see you there!”

Speaking of the devil, there she was. Emma seriously wondered how many small, adorable creatures had to die to make the black-and-white jacket Cruella was wearing right now. (Though, given how well it matched her hair...ew, no, not finishing that thought.)

“It’s okay; I wasn’t—looking,” Emma tried to apologize, but Cruella wrapped her up in a bear (or some other furred animal) hug.

“Nonsense! Now tell me, dear, how goes the research? Have you had any luck out there?” Thankfully, she let go so Emma could talk.

“Uh, yeah—there’s a merman out there,” she said quietly, almost whispering to avoid being overheard.

“Oh, really?” Cruella clapped her hands and Emma was pretty sure they’re were stars in her eyes, she was so excited. “Oh, that’s so exotic! Oh, my friends will be pleased indeed! Thank you so much, darling!” And she promptly took Emma’s face in her hands and placed a way-too-wet peck on her cheek.

“Uh, my pleasure,” Emma answered, semi-stunned by what just happened.

“Well, I must be off, but thank you ever so much, pet! Ta-ta!” And she sashayed out the door, leaving a cloud of expensive perfume and a bit of shedded fur behind her.

Emma just gaped for a moment, staring into space at that turbulent conversation, before forcing herself to move. She was still baffled as she slid onto a stool, but shook her head to bring herself back to the present. God, Cruella was weird; but at least that was over.

It must have been that kind of day, because Ruby practically stumbled out from the back looking just as bewildered. She stopped in front of Emma, focused on some unseen thing below the counter, before looking up at Emma and blinking. “When did you get here?”

“Just now,” Emma answered slowly.

“I wasn’t just awkwardly staring at nothing for, like, 5 minutes, was I?”

“No; you just came out from the back.” It wasn’t like her to be so out of it—even hungover Ruby was more alert than this. “Rubes, are you okay?”

“I...maybe? I honestly don’t know.” It almost looked like Ruby was shaking, and it had nothing to do with her platform high-heels—though they probably didn’t help.

Emma was getting seriously worried. “Did something happen? Is Granny okay? Dorothy?”

At the mention of her girlfriend, Ruby immediately perked up and bit back a grin. “Just—come here.” And immediately, she took off through the dining room for the secluded back part of the restaurant, beckoning Emma to follow.

Emma almost had to run through, nearly knocking over a waitress as she went, but it was quiet in the back near the stairs to the bed & breakfast upstairs. So whatever this was, it was big, and likely supernatural.

“Okay, what is it?” she asked. “Did you shift in front of Dorothy?”

“Yeah, but it’s the part that comes before it that’s a bit more important.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “How can anything be bigger than that? That’s making yourself so vulnerable!” It may have been personal experience talking, but she didn’t want to see Ruby’s heart pummeled like hers had been, even if it was well on its way to letting someone in again.

“Well, it’s because...it’s a...soulmate...thing,” she stammered, looking down at the tile floor and appearing somehow small, despite the way she towered over almost everyone.

Wow—soulmates? Emma knew Ruby had a mark—a cyclone-like swirl low on her hip—but she’d never expressed any desire to find them. There had been a few serious relationships since her first boyfriend, but they all fizzled out after a few intense months. Her werewolf status definitely had something to do with that, same as Emma’s stuff, but it was still a little surprising.

“Are-are you sure?”

“Completely. You know how my mark looks like a tornado?” Emma nodded. “Well, we were starting to get down to business when she saw it, and told me how she survived one when she was a kid. And she’s a meteorologist now; honestly, I should have seen it.”

“What’s hers?” Emma had to ask.

“That’s the other freaky part,” Ruby said, and leaned in. “It’s a wolf.”

Emma’s breath hitched.

“I kind of had to transform after that.”

“Yeah...wow. How did she take it?”

“She was surprised a bit, at first, which I expected, but then she was totally fine. Just pet and cuddled me. And then I shifted back, and reminded her how I’ve always been a wolf in bed,” she concluded with a wink and a grin.

Emma snorted and relaxed a bit. The weight of the revelation was still settling on her, so a moment of levity was much-needed. But it was kind of a huge deal. She was thrilled for her best friend, obviously, but there were also other implications—personal ones that she didn’t really want to address, but knew she should. “So...for people like us…”

“The marks are us, I think.”

That’s what she was afraid of. Something in her stilled, or started taking up a solid presence in her stomach, or maybe that ice cream from the other night had a freezing spell in it—whatever it was, it was stopping her in place as that epiphany washed over her.

Somewhere out there was a person for her with a swan-shaped mark somewhere on their body.

And, more than likely, it was a merman.

(Quite possibly the one that was here in Storybrooke right now.)

Shit. She needed to think about this. And probably a stiff drink.

“Hey—you okay, Ems?” Ruby’s voice jolted her from her haze; she blinked comically and saw her friend watching her with concern in the set of her brow but understanding in her eyes. She knew just how much she’d rocked Emma’s world.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—I’m alright,” she tried to assure her, but it was hard to be convincing when she didn’t believe it herself. “I’m just...so happy for you!” she redirected; at least that was true. And she promptly wrapped Ruby in a hug, hiding the conflict on her face as she buried it in Ruby’s shoulder.

Ruby returned the embrace, giggling, but then Emma heard her start sniffing. Uh oh.

“Emma, why do you…?” She sniffed again. “What’s that…?” She practically inhaled Emma’s hair. “Oh my God! You and Killian had sex!” she whisper-yelled.

“Holy crap, quiet down!” Emma replied as she stepped back. “How the hell could you tell that?”

“I told you—I can smell him on you. It’s faint, but it’s there. I’m guessing...two nights ago?”

“Jeez, seriously?”

“Is that a yes?”

Emma let out a long sigh. “Yes.”

Ruby squealed. “Get it, girl!”

“You did not just say that.”

“I did and I have no shame. You banged Killian Jones! Be proud!”

Emma rolled her eyes, but could feel the blush rise in her cheeks; okay, she was a little proud that she nabbed the hottest guy in Storybrooke. (And the sweetest, and the most sensitive, and the most caring...she could go on.) But she was a little too emotionally unsteady right now to boast.

With impeccable timing, Granny called for Ruby from the kitchen; there was no doubt she heard their entire conversation and knew Emma needed some alone time. Ruby made her promise to give details later before dashing back to work, leaving Emma to wander back to her seat.

She was in a kind of daze through her meal—she knew she ate, but couldn’t remember what. And at some point, she realized she was driving the Bug up the Nolan’s long driveway, but had no idea how she got there from Granny’s—which was actually really worrying, but thankfully, she hadn’t gotten into an accident.

The rest of the afternoon, she spent either seated on the dock, staring at the slowly rippling water, or in her room, gazing at the cloudy gray sky. Her thoughts just kept running on the same monotonous loop:

She now knew more about her soulmate than she ever had before. For most people, that realization would be thrilling, but for Emma, it somehow felt like a letdown.

Because if her soulmate was a merman, then that meant it wasn’t Killian.

She knew, she knew that she shouldn’t even have hoped he was. They’d barely known each other for more than a week, for fuck’s sake. And normally, she didn’t even have any soulmate-related thoughts, let alone entertain them, despite their first date conversation.

No—it was hitting her now because now, it was out of reach. How effing cliche of her.

But on the other hand, she didn’t want some higher power deciding her life anymore than it already had. Yeah, the whole soulmates thing worked out for Snow and Dave, and was looking like it would for Ruby, but—she wasn’t them. If she was going to find her true love or whatever, she wanted to find it on her terms, like she might be doing with Killian.

Of course, there was no guarantee things would last with him; he still had that secret, and she’d been burned enough in life to get too terribly optimistic. And there was also no saying that she couldn’t find something equally great with this mystery merman. She could be denying herself further happiness by avoiding him. And she’d always felt drawn to merpeople, even before she knew they were real; maybe that was the reason for it.

But if he wasn’t the one here in Storybrooke, then who knew how long it could take to find him? And she couldn’t bear to hurt Killian like that, even if it freed him to find his soulmate. And the thought of Killian being with someone else made her stomach turn, so she was kind of back to square one.

The buts and what ifs and fuck nos just kept repeating until she was tired of hearing them over and over again. But she couldn’t seem to shut it off. She knew she should probably talk to David or Snow, but it wasn’t like they’d say anything that she wasn’t already thinking.

She faked her way through dinner, participating enough in the conversation that they wouldn’t notice she was mentally preoccupied, and then took a shower, hoping it might clear her head. It didn’t.

Once she had dressed, she flopped on her bed and grabbed the first book off the stack on the nightstand, hoping to get lost in a story. But of course, it was the merman romance novel. Still, she gave it a try, and there was something weirdly hot about it, but it really wasn’t helping her at the moment.

So instead, she tossed it back aside and dug out her old copy of Order of the Phoenix to read; if Hogwarts couldn’t distract her, then nothing could; thankfully, it did.

It was dark outside—eerily so due to a brewing storm—when she got to one particular line from Dumbledore.

“We can’t choose our fate, but we can choose others. Be careful in knowing that.”

She was well aware of the first part, but the second stood out to her: we can choose others.

Choose.

She had a choice. Sure, there was some higher being that had a plan for her; but there was nothing saying she had to buy into it. She could choose to be with whoever she wanted, and really, she’d already made that decision.

And right now, that choice was living on dry land, on two legs, on the other side of town, and had managed to slip into her heart easier than anyone ever had.

She set the book down and looked at the time; she had about an hour and a half until transformation time. She had no idea when he was supposed to get back from his sailing trip, but she didn’t care; she just wanted to see him, even if she’d have to wait a while and change forms.

(And she was well aware that she might be tempting some soulmate-related things, but now that she’d made a decision, she wasn’t going to question it.)

Hastily, she barrelled down the stairs while shooting off a quick text to Killian. Are you home? Can I come over? She slipped down the last couple steps but somehow stayed on her feet, so she grabbed her jacket off the coatrack by the door after regaining her balance, shouted a quick ‘bye!’ to Dave and Snow, and threw open the door to dash out to her car through the rain.

A rumble of thunder accompanied the similar sound of her engine coming to life, and she flipped on the headlights and wipers, shifted into drive, and peeled out (as much as anyone could peel out of a wet gravel driveway).

Lightning streaked overhead and she felt like she was driving almost as fast, making near-record time to his house. No lights were on when she pulled up, though, and he hadn’t replied to her text yet.

She grabbed her umbrella off of where it lived on the floor by the passenger’s seat and headed out, running around the house to his dock—his currently empty dock. Damn. No wonder he hadn’t answered her.

Now what? She wasn’t sure what to do, and shifted her weight side to side as she stared out at the horizon—what she could see of it, at least. The rain was coming down harder than when she’d left home and the wind was picking up, making the sea choppy. She stood there for a few more minutes, hoping to catch any sight of his ship out in the open water, but he must have been beyond the view of the cove.

Another strike of lightning flashed, reminding Emma that she probably shouldn’t be standing out in the open with an umbrella during a thunderstorm. She gave one last scan for the ship, but resigned her search and headed back to the car.

She waited there another twenty minutes or so, but no signs of life returned to his house and it was getting close to transformation time. She fully planned on staying out here until he got back—she didn’t like how rough the waves looked and wanted to make sure he got in okay—but didn’t want to risk him coming home to her empty car in his driveway and a swan hanging out near his dock. So she relocated to her hiding place, sent a text to Dave to let him know where she was, and settled in to wait.

Dave, true to paternalistic form, told her to be careful. But he was right: this storm was intense. She really didn’t want to go out in it, but now was at the point where she didn’t have enough time to drive home, and her swan form couldn’t see over the steering wheel if she stayed in here.

There was no fighting it, so she just bucked up and stripped, and managed to slip out her door just as the transformation took hold. She was just strong enough as a swan to get the door shut again, thankfully, so at least she’d have dry clothes at the end of the night.

Her attempt at flying to Killian’s dock didn’t go so well—the wind tossed her around like she was a seagull. So she swam to it as quick as she was able and took up her watch underneath. The waves were surprisingly violent even here, so close to shore; more than once, they tossed her up against the underside of the dock, no doubt leaving bruises that she’d find in the morning. (The one downside to changing forms: what happened in one still affected the other; her broken arm in 12th grade also had left her with a broken wing.)

It seemed like hours passed as she waited there in the surf, but finally, she caught the sound of a motor through the constant crash of waves and roll of thunder. She peered out and there it was: the Jolly Roger, fighting against the stormy sea to safe haven. Her sails were folded away but she still looked pretty damn epic as she crested the waves, illuminated by the sporadic bolts of lightning. When it got closer, she could see Killian at the wheel, underneath a protective awning that had been drawn over the helm and adorably wrapped up in what was possibly the baggiest raincoat she’d ever seen. She still didn’t understand his aversion to being wet but admired his ability to stay dry.

Docking seemed to take forever as he urged the ship against waves that were determined to take him back out to sea, but eventually, he was able to get close enough to toss a line out or whatever—she couldn’t exactly see everything from under the dock, but was aware that the ship’s engine had been shut off and the whole thing was slowly drifting closer.

She heard a long sigh from Killian, and then his footsteps were on the wood above her. If she looked at the right angle, she could see him through the slats; it looked like he was bracing against the wind and trying to hold his hood on.

It didn’t last, though; a gust blew it off his head and he froze where he was, glancing around and down at himself. She could just make out the rain plastering his hair to his forehead and the almost panicked look on his face that slowly melted to a smile. What was that about?

But her wondering quickly became terror when a huge wave came up, smashing her against the dock and knocking the wind out of her. Then it dragged her under the surface until she became disoriented—it was deeper than she realized here, and with no moonlight to help her discern which way was up, she could feel the hysteria setting in.

Somehow, she managed to hold her breath and calm down, letting herself float to the surface. She gasped for air when she broke through, as much as a swan could gasp, at least. Once she regained her bearings, she looked toward Killian’s cottage, hoping for some sign of him, but it was still dark.

Frantically, she scanned the dock and his ship, but he wasn’t there. The wave must have knocked him off, so she started to look around for him in the water but...nothing. Did he not know how to swim?

“Killian!” she called out, even though he wouldn’t understand her. “Killian!” She honestly didn’t know what she sounded like to the untrained ear, but if it was anything like how she felt, it sounded pretty terrifying.

Thankfully, the rain was tapering off and the clouds were just starting to break up, letting a bit of moonlight free as she swam around and searched and screamed. Finally, she found something floating on the surface, but it didn’t give her much hope—it looked like his rain coat.

She desperately started diving under to look for any sign of him, but she could only dive so far, and the storm had left the water a murky mess. But still she tried, until her lungs burned; she might be an aquatic bird but that didn’t mean she was a fish. She refused to give up, though.

Movement finally caught her eye, but it was the last thing she wanted to see: the familiar blue tail of the resident merman. What the hell was he doing?

Wait—maybe he could help? Was there some way she could get his attention and communicate that Killian was down there somewhere? Do merpeople speak swan?

There was only one way to find out. She started splashing and diving, making a scene, hoping to catch his notice.

His tail fanned out a few more times, getting closer each time. Oh, thank goodness; it seemed to be working.

At last, he broke through the surface—and she immediately froze upon seeing him.

“So that’s you causing all that racket?” Killian said, brushing the hair out of his face and grinning.

Killian. Floating in the water. Where the merman had just been.

“I’m fine, love; but perhaps it’s best you seek shelter for the rest of the night, aye? I’d hate to see my favorite feathered friend hurt in a storm like this.”

Killian—he was—what? Her brain wasn’t computing.

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think you can keep this secret between us?” She had no answer; she didn’t even blink. “Thought so,” he continued on, smirking. “Take care, love.”

And then he was gone, with another flip of his stunning fin.

That was his secret: he was a merman. He was the merman. Emma’s brain was short circuiting with a million questions and answers all at once. But two things quickly reached the forefront of her thoughts:

1. If he was a merman, then that meant there was a chance they were soulmates.

2. HOLY SHIT.

thanks, friends!! I’ll be back soon; promise! tagging: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @selfie-wench @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @initiala @fairytalesandtimetravel @word-bug @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @queen-mabs-revenge @flipperbrain @sherlockianwhovian @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @jackieorioncat @bmbbcs4evr @branlovesouat @jennjenn615 @jaiabean @therooksshiningknight @a-faekindagirl @technicallysizzlingcloud @deathbycaptainswan @superadam54 @unworried-corsair

#cs ff #cs modern au #cssns #something in the water #swan!emma #merman!killian

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