secretsantaandsmores

[secretsantaandsmores]

Thanks so much for organizing the awesome OQ Secret Santa!! I loved seeing all the great creations from everyone in our lovely fandom!! Bunches of OQ kisses and hugs to you!! Happy 2016!!

Hi there! Thanks so much for your kind words and lovely feedback. We’re so glad you had a great time participating and we thank YOU so much for being part of this. :) Best wishes for a wonderful 2016!

[secretsantaandsmores]

Hi! I was trying to dig around for mod posts other than the info and FAQ ones but couldn't find anything about sign ups for pinch hitters in case people dropped out. Was that a thing this year and I missed it, or is that not a thing that was done?

Hi, dear nonnie! Everyone was great about keeping us informed if they were going to be late, so we didn’t need any pinch hitters (as far as we know)! We sincerely hope you received a gift and deeply apologize if that was not the case. Let us know off-anon so we can dig into this for you! Thanks for checking in!

[secretsantaandsmores]

Piano Man; OQ at Christmas

MERRY CHRISTMAS @bianka-bee!!! You had the unfortunate luck of getting me for your OQSS, run by the fabulous @secretsantaandsmores (thank you so much for organising it!) As I think I’ve probably said a lot, but I’ll say it again, I’m so sorry it’s late! But what better way to start off a new year than with some Outlaw Queen Christmas fluff hmm?

When I read how you like piano music (Yiruma is amazing so thank you for introducing him to me <3) I started this with a completely different plan in mind, but I’ve never written anything longer than 500 words before, so this kind of took a mind of it’s own and is now a monster, *gulp*, so I hope you like it, but constructive criticism is also welcome if you don’t.

Also thank you to @grace-and-poise-of-a-queen for beta-ing it and telling me pretty lies by saying it’s not complete trash. She’s the best and I love her.

Is that everything? Are we done now? Ok, good. On with the show. Merry (belated) Christmas!

A/N: I have no idea whether they had piano’s in The Enchanted Forest, but they do in Tangled, and that’s close enough right?

He says, “Son can you play me a memory

I’m not really sure how it goes

But it’s sad and it’s sweet

And I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man’s clothes.”

Morning routines in the Hood-Mills household have become something of a well-practised puzzle since two became four, became five. It took a while to get used to having four extra feet and two knees and hands pattering about, and 4 sets of lungs to compete with, but after a couple of weeks, every member knew where they needed to be and at what time like the back of their hand.

Everyone in town would probably assume Regina to be the first up and about, her motherly and mayoral duties calling her from sleep and into action. But old habits die hard, and being used to rising with the sun, it is Robin who normally starts off the morning routine. Maybe it’s the joy he gets from waking up and spending a few minutes admiring his love’s face, so gentle and peaceful during sleep in a way it rarely is when she’s awake. Or maybe it’s the utter quiet of the dawn as he checks in on their children (all three of them, theirs) and stealthily makes his way downstairs to kitchen to start up the coffee, filling the house with the deep rich scent of the aromatic beans, filling two thick ceramic mugs and taking a moment to just breathe.

Keep reading

[secretsantaandsmores]

Happy Holidays! @gonewasanytraceofit from your OQSS! :) @secretsantaandsmores 

[secretsantaandsmores]

@secretsantaandsmores, for @dorabellatrix. :) Merry Christmas, best wishes to you!

My OUAT art | Red Bubble Shop

[secretsantaandsmores]

Once Upon A Merry Christmas XV

Hi, @desperationandgin, this is the final installment of your very own Operation Christmas ;) As part of my Christmas series, I give you some Hood Mills family fluff :D It wasn’t actually supposed to be the last gift, as I told you I had some angsty but with a positive ending thing coming along, except that it turned into a monster (15 pages and I don’t think I’ve reached the middle) so I figured I would post it later when it’s done XD besides, fluff is better at Christmas and I’ve already give you much pain with the last one ^^ It was so exciting being your Secret Santa, thank you for being so open and awesome to me, and Merry Christmas!

PS: you can check out the rest on Ao3 and FF or under the tag ‘once upon a merry christmas 2015′

Hood Mills Family

Finally she hears the door open followed by the sounds of stumbling footsteps and hushed laughters. She can distinguish Robin’s voice warning them to be quiet, and Roland’s squealing whispers. She smirks in the dark as she tiptoes down the stairs.

When she suddenly turns on the lights in the living room, three guilty-looking deers in headlight gape at her, standing frozen by the Christmas tree.

She leans against the banister, crossing her arms, her voice dropping to the barely ever used tone of the Evil Queen.

“Well, well. Santa Claus isn’t very stealthy this year. May I ask what your three troublemakers are doing sneaking in and out in the middle of the night? I thought we all agreed on not opening any more gifts until tomorrow morning. Robin you’re supposed to set an example for them not encourage them to break the rules!”

Such is the downside of living with an outlaw, she thinks, torn between amusement and irritation. Robin has shown most of his life a complete disdain for boundaries and rules, including, sometimes, the ones she sets.

Roland and him will probably never be completely tamed by the ways of the modern world but it doesn’t mean she’s not going to try any less.

“We weren’t going to open the gifts, Mom,” Henry chimes in just as Robin opens his mouth to answer. “Actually we were bringing another one.”

“What are you talking about?”

As if on cue, a strange little wheezing noise makes her look down to Henry’s feet, where a small spotted creature is wiggling his tail, happily chewing on its leash.

“Oh, hell no.”

“Merry Christmas!” Roland shouts, bouncing up and down, oblivious to her exasperated tone, and the puppy barks accordingly.

“Henry where did you find this dog?”

“It’s Archie! Well, it’s Pongo. Apparently he found his Perdita and… they had six puppies together. Archie didn’t know what to do with this one, he didn’t find any owner so we thought… maybe…”

“That you would go behind my back and bring the puppy home without asking me first so I wouldn’t be able to say no when I saw him.”

Henry has the decency to look a little bit sheepish, but she’s not fooled in the slightest.

“Er… something like that, yeah.”

“Robin, you were on board with this?”

Her soulmate suddenly seems very absorbed by the decorations around the living-room and eventually looks at her with comically wide eyes, trying, and failing, at playing innocent.

Dick move, Judas, she conveys telepathically – a trick she eventually mastered a few months ago and which comes in handy for conversations not to have around children.

He cocks his head to the side with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you did say you would be willing to get a dog…”

“I believe my exact phrasing was ‘I’d consider it when you can find me furniture that don’t stain and can’t get chewed on.'”

“Maybe I forgot that last part,” he says with a cocky grin, the one that always makes her both want to punch him and flip him on his back to ride him hard until he begs for mercy.

The puppy chooses this moment to start whining, now lying flat on his belly and gently licking his paws, raising distressed eyes at her.

“I think he’s hungry,” Henry frowns, and Regina sighs and walks over to him to take the leash.

“Well I hope the three of you are very proud of yourself. Now you all go to your rooms and get into bed. Boys, it’s well past your bedtime. Robin, if you want to sleep at the foot of the bed since you seem to like dogs so much, you’re more than welcome. Shoo, all of you!”

They shuffle out of the room with very little protest, Roland giving a tight hug to the pup and whispering as they climb up the stairs, “Is Gina very mad?” and once again, she has to fight this idiotic urge to smile.

Because she is. Very mad. This kind of insubordination is intolerable. She’ll bring back the pet first thing in the morning and…

She looks down as she feels something warm and soft rub against her legs.

The puppy looks up at her, tongue lolling out, yipping adoringly. Regina sighs and lifts him up to her face, staring him down.

“At least they could have gotten me a girl. As if there’s isn’t enough males in this house.”

She groans as she feels the wet tongue tickling the tip of her nose.

“You stop that this instant.”

To her great surprise, the pup does as he’s told, apparently content to just watch her and breathe very loudly into her nostrils.

“Well, at least you are one obedient little dog. Maybe I should keep you and send all those unruly boys back. What do you think?”

The puppy barks his approbation and Regina smirks wickedly.

“Obedient and a tad evil. I believe we could get along splendidly.”

After feeding and walking the pup in the garden for a last minute nature’s call, Regina sets him up in the bed dog Robin brought along with the food – at least he made sure the puppy would have everything ready instead of recklessly taking him in, though she still debates on the recklessness – and walks away to finally go to sleep herself.

The dog perks up his head and lets out a brief cry.

She turns back, sees him staring at her with tearful eyes.

“Absolutely not. Your place is here, not upstairs.”

The dog doesn’t make a noise but keeps staring. She sighs and walks to him again, hands on her hips.

“Stop it. You can give me that look all you want but you’re not sleeping on my bed.”

Again, the dog stays silent, but gives her the pitiful look of the dying.

“I said no.”

A few minutes later, Robin feels two warm bodies settle on the bed, one, bigger, under the covers, and one, small, on his lap. He smiles as he turns around – carefully as he dislodges the puppy that crawls away to find a more suitable place to sleep on the bed – and wraps his arms around Regina’s waist, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.

“So… I don’t get to sleep at the foot of the bed then?”

“Shut up, Locksley.”

He snickers against her skin and brushes her hair back to access her neck, pecking her with his lips until she shivers.

“I love you.”

She groans.

“I’ll love you back in the morning. When I’m less furious at you. You big, sappy dope. Couldn’t resist the looks and pleading, could you?”

He shrugs, still smiling wide.

“You weren’t there, it was torture.”

“Believe me, ten years of practice, I’m tougher to break.”

“I see. So our little chum here sleeps on the bed because you wanted it and not at all because you broke in five minutes when he gave you the abused puppy act.”

“Exactly.”

He barely muffles his chuckle, then gently rolls her over in his arms, leading her to face him.

“Are you really mad at me?”

He’s deadly serious. She squints.

“Yes,” she deadpans, kissing him on the mouth, swallowing his laugh.

“Liar.”

“Don’t test me.”

He wiggles his fingers into her sides and she lets out a high-pitched squeal, squirming under his touch, scolding him with an earnest look.

“Stop that.”

She snuggles deeper against him, and his tickling turns into lazy strokes, their breathing evens out.

“It’s going to be a tough vote for the name tomorrow,” Robin mumbles, feeling himself drifting off to sleep already.

“Uh-uh. My gift, I name him. Otherwise I’ll end up with a Dalmatian named Spots and I wouldn’t survive the ridicule.”

“You already have a name,” he guesses, and her smile is smug.

“The perfect name, actually. Thief.”

The dog yelps joyfully in his sleep, and Robin laughs into Regina’s hair.

[secretsantaandsmores]

Sneak Peek: “Pokes and Coffee”

Hello beautiful @queenoflocksley….here is that sneak peek I promised you! It is a little bit of a clue about what the entire story will be about. And as for the title…it’s a work in progress. If you have any ideas, let me know and I’ll change it. After all this is one of your gifts! :) 

Prompt (i modified it a bit to fit an idea I got because of it): you sit behind me and poke me every time i fall asleep during 8 am lectures thank you can i buy you a coffee? au

“Shit. I’m late.”

Early morning classes were the bane of her existence. As Regina rushed out of bed, she glanced a look down at her phone resting on the bedside table. Below the time was a single message with the name “MOTHER” clearly shown displayed on the screen. Sighing as she pulled on a baggy sweater that read STORYBROOKE UNIVERSITY over her t-shirt she had worn to bed, she swiped her finger across the screen and read the text that Cora had felt the need to send on her first morning back.

Be sure to get up and look presentable for class.The early bird gets the worm, dear. Don’t forget that. xoxo

With a roll of her eyes, Regina threw her phone on the floor and finished getting dressed. A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall above the The Dark Ones band poster read 8:04.

“SHIT.” She muttered somewhat loudly. Guiltily, she glanced back at her roommate to make sure that her somewhat hurried actions hadn’t woken the night owl that was Emma Swan. When all her ears picked up on was a loud snort, she let out a small giggle.

Hurriedly packing her books into her book bag and pulling her hair into a low ponytail with the hair tie from her wrist, Regina Mills exited her dorm room and she closed the door to Room 815 behind her.

It helped that her dorm was less than a five minute walk from most of the academic buildings, making it possible that she would not be THAT late.The fact that no one else was walking around on the quad or between buildings told her that she may need to pick up the pace though.

“No time for coffee then.” She said aloud crabbily. Regina hated the fact that she still  had to take a general education credit as a senior in order to finish up her strategic communications bachelor’s. So she decided that she would pick something that would at least make her workload somewhat enjoyable. Thus, why she was up at 8:00 AM to take Dr. Blanchard’s course on “Fairy Tales in Film and Literature”. 

Jogging into the arts and sciences building, Regina quickly ran up the two flights of stairs and jogged down the hallway. Looking both ways to locate the Lecture Hall 200, she almost ran straight into the back of someone.

“Oh…..” She said catching herself at the last moment. The man turned around and Regina was greeted with the bluest pairs of eyes she had ever seen. With a smile accompanied with a sweet set of dimples, he said “Oh! I’m sorry mi’lady. My fault there. I’m just late for class.” 

The guy had a British accent AND he was attractive on top of it.  Regina was screwed and she was still late for class. What a way to start off the spring semester.

[secretsantaandsmores]

Faith, Hope and Love (Part One)

Ho, ho, ho! I will reveal my identity to you very soon, @goingtomakethishappen. But until then, enjoy Part I of your Christmas gift. 

It’s AU after the last five minutes of “Lily” and a bit angsty right now (but you said you like some angst). 

           At long last, December came to Storybrooke. Regina flipped to the last page of her calendar with a relieved sigh. If there was anything she wanted most of all, it was for this year to end.

           It had been a year of ups and downs. The ups had certainly been very good highs. She had been reunited with the son she thought she’d never see again and their relationship was growing stronger each day. And she had gotten a second chance with the soulmate she had run from years ago. Robin was her biggest supporter and gave her confidence she didn’t think she’d ever have. He also trusted her with his own son, letting her be a mother to him as well.

           The lows though had been so hurtful, she expected to find bruises on her body from them. Within weeks of finding Robin, Emma and Hook had to go and bring Marian back after their trip back in time. Seeing the new love of her life embrace his wife—the one he had told her only hours prior he would’ve gone to hell and back for—and their son had left Regina breathless. When Robin chose Marian even though they both knew he loved her, it had almost sent her spiraling back into her evil ways.

           She had persevered, though, and managed to clear that stumbling block. And she had agreed to help when Marian had been frozen by the Snow Queen, wanting only Robin’s happiness. Except it became obvious to the both of them that his happiness laid with her instead of his wife. When he told her that he was choosing to be with her instead of Marian, it was another high Regina thought she would never experience.

           It hadn’t last long as Marian collapsed shortly after. She remembered the sick feeling that had settled in her stomach as she realized that the only way to save Marian was to send her out of Storybrooke. And the second realization that it would mean sending Robin away, no doubt for good.

Keep reading

[secretsantaandsmores]

MERRY CHRISTMAS @lillie-grey!! 

I have had the absolute best time getting to know you this past month. You are lovely and wonderful and we have so many things in common. <3 I hope you like your gift! I also have another one for you on the way…

Come drop by and talk with me anytime! :D

-your OQ Secret Santa, Tessa

[secretsantaandsmores]

Christmas Tree Cakes

Another little surprise for you @onhowtobecrazy! You asked for an Outlaw Queen AU, so here is a little Christmas fun set in London.

He wakes up alone, thin winter light filtering in through the window with the grey-white sheen of London dawn. It’s early-too early–for her to be awake and out of bed on her day off, but the sheets are cool under his fingertips, so she must have been up for a while. Concern starts to bleed through the heavy fog of sleep as he flips back the covers and climbs out of bed, shuffling down the hallway from their bedroom in search of his love.

The smell of fresh, dark roast greets him as he walks through the kitchen stifling a yawn.  He’s tempted to take a minute and pour a cup, the pull of caffeine beckons to him from across the countertops, the warm siren song of sharp, bitter liquid that will rinse away morning breath and the last dregs of sleep, but there will be time for that after he’s found Regina and made sure she’s alright.

He pads silently down the hallway, past the open emptiness of her office and the guest bedroom, finally stopping in the living room.  His smiles when he sees her sat cross-legged on the floor, the lace hem of her nightgown barely skirting mid-thigh, leaving a delicious expanse of golden skin on display.  Her hair is still mussed from sleep, soft waves unruly and jutting out at odd angles.  She’s stunning, face scrubbed of makeup and lit with the most radiant smile as she stares at the contents of an open cardboard box, nestled between her legs.

“Good morning,” he croaks, voice still rough from sleep and he winces as she jumps a little at the sudden sound.  "Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,“ he immediately soothes, stepping into the room and joining her on the floor.

"It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up for a while,” she answers, tucking an unruly curl behind her ear.  "Did I wake you?  I came back here to try and keep from bothering you with the noise.“

He hmms in response, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, "I didn’t hear a thing, my love.  But I did wake up feeling like there was something missing in the bed,” he grins, sliding an arm around her waist.

She smiles coyly back at him, snuggling into his side. “Well, you can blame the postman for that.”

“The postman?”

“He rang with the delivery,” she answers, gesturing to the open box in front of them.

“What is all of this?” He asks, finally looking into the box at the odd assortment of brightly colored packages scattered amidst tissue paper and bubble wrap.

“It’s a ‘Christmas Care Package,’” she answers with a slight giggle, looking like a five year old on Christmas morning. “From Henry.”

She starts pulling out box after box of American holiday treats, excitedly explaining each one: a pair of warm fuzzy socks 'for the cold British weather’ (if only Henry knew Boston was so much colder than London), a can of cranberry sauce 'because it’s not the same if it doesn’t have the lines from being in the can’, and on and on until she comes to the last box.  It’s long and thin, with a picture of a toxic-green christmas tree and a smiling, pig-tailed little girl on the top; the words 'Little Debbie’ emblazoned in cheery red script between the two images.

“What on earth are those?”

“Christmas tree cakes.” She answers, as if it’s the most basic thing in the world.

“Christmas tree whats?” He asks, eying the box with suspicion.  Nothing that color is meant to be consumed by humans.

“Christmas tree cakes. They’re only sold at this time of year.  They’re sugary and chocked-full of chemicals, but they’re delicious.” She finishes with a grin, deft fingers sliding to the end of the box, ripping it open.

She tips the box slightly on its end and a single, plastic wrapped tree slides out of the opening into her palm.  It’s just as horrible looking as he would have imagined from the image on the box. “Here.” She extends her hand, the cake held in offering. “Try one.”

“I wouldn’t want to take your treats from you.  You can’t get those here, you should enjoy all of them that you can.”

“He sent three boxes, one of each flavor.  As much as I love them, I don’t think it would be a good idea if I ate all three by myself.  Just try it.  I think you’ll like it.” She finishes, dumping the cake into his open hand.

She tips the box again, extracting one of the cakes for herself while he pulls open the thin plastic packaging, trying to hide a grimace; so much for just taking a bite and then giving her the rest of it.

She nods at him in encouragement, as she chomps off the green frosted tip of her own Christmas tree, eyes closing temporarily, a satisfied hmmm sounding from the back of her throat.

If they get that kind of a response from her, they can’t be all that bad, can they?  Peeling away the corners of the plastic, he pushes the little tree up with his fingers until half of the 'cake’ (and he uses that term lightly) is poking out of the opening.  Closing his eyes, and thinking of how much he loves the woman sitting next to him, how generous it is of her to share this with him, the little bits of her home country that he can, he sinks his teeth into the sugar laced sweet.

It takes him a moment to realise it’s not actually awful.  Soft, spongy butter cake fills his mouth, sandwiched around smooth chocolaty filling and sweet sugar frosting that starts to melt the moment it touches his tongue.  His eyes pop open and he looks up to find a self-satisfied smile plastered across her face.

“See.  They aren’t’ so bad, are they?” She cheeks, one perfect eyebrow tipping up in amusement.

“No, they aren’t!” He answers, taking a second bite, then finishing the whole cake with a decently sized third.

Her laughter fills the room as he looks over at the remaining piece of a Christmas tree balanced between her fingers, eyes flicking from the what’s he’s beginning to think must be crack filled cake, to her face and back.  "Are you going to finish that?“  he asks.

"Says the man who two seconds ago didn’t even want to try one?” she scoffs, before popping the last bite of her cake into her mouth.

He groans a little in disappointment, as she closes up the box and starts placing items back into her 'care package’ one by one.

“I think I might have to hide these somewhere or you’ll probably devour them all before I even get to have some!” She teases, sliding the last item into the box and gently closing the lid.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he argues. “They’re tasty, but I think there’s something I enjoy the taste of more.”

Just as she opens her mouth to ask him what he means, he seals his lips to hers, tongue sweeping along hers to sample the lingering taste of sugar and frosting mingled with the warm taste of Regina.

She melts into the kiss, a soft moan buzzing from the back of her throat at the contact before he pulls back, nipping lightly at her lower lip as he breaks the kiss.

“Delicious.” he hums, licking his lips, before leaning in to get another taste.

[secretsantaandsmores]

Dear @someonethatiamnot, the cat’s out of the bag now: I, @bianka-bee, am your Cinnamon Santa! You’ve been a delight of a giftee, and I’ve really enjoyed talking to you instead of just my usual admiring your writing from afar. ;) Not gonna lie, your chill about answering messages really helped relieve my stress in the promptness department, and for that I’m grateful. Thank you for the Christmas music recs, looove all of them so far. I hope you enjoyed the stocking stuffers I left you throughout the month. I’d originally planned for a longer story as the main gift, but went for a shorter fic + gifset instead - I think you more than deserve the little Outlander shoutout after the trauma of being asked to choose between that and Swingtown (that was very Grinch of me, lol). Enjoy, and happy holidays! :)

P.S.: I really wasn’t sure what format to post this in, so I’m posting the whole gift here, and I’ll be posting the gifset separately over on my blog for an option to reblog without the bulk of text.

Your face is my h e a r t, and the love of you is my s o u l. 

The coin, hot in my hands before, threatens to burn a hole in my pocket now. Perhaps that’s what draws my eyes to the door even though my mind should be elsewhere—a sign? Magic? It must be, because you’re here, you weren’t coming but now you’re here, and my chest expands with warmth, and what does this even mean? What does everything mean? A coin’s just a coin, right?  I look at you and look and look—and I see, well, more. Your hair over your shoulder, not braided like before but loose, and smooth, and no doubt silky to the touch. A smile, sheepish but true, elusive but satisfying, and I shouldn’t be looking at you still, or at all, but I just can’t help it. Perhaps yours are the eyes I was born to gaze into.

This seems silly, and reckless, and a lost cause, and the closer I get, the more I want to flee, but that boy Henry believes in this, and don’t I owe myself a chance at happiness? So I push the church door ajar and that’s as far as my legs will carry me, for you’re there, dashingly handsome, facing your beautiful bride, and my head screams this was a mistake but my stupid heart won’t listen because hope had already been planted there. And then you look at me, and your brow creases—you weren’t expecting me. But I’m here. And you won’t—can’t?—stop looking at me, and then you smile. I know what my heart says, and maybe if I stand here long enough, you’ll hear its frantic beating and know, too. Then what would you do?

*** I’ve lived through loss and pain, faced death and torture, cast the Dark Curse and survived its breaking. What’s a ball compared to all that? And yet I am afraid, my palms sweaty and my mouth dry. When they announce me they don’t even say my name, it’s really the Saviour they’re cheering for, not me. Then I see you—and you, you’re here for me. You look at me like I’m all that’s precious and good and worthy in the world, and then part of me thinks maybe I am those things. You watch me walk into your waiting arms like you can’t believe your luck, and I certainly cannot believe mine. My heart stutters, but this is no longer fear.

The Saviour, they say, and that’s fitting in a different way, a private way, for I seem to have been holding my breath waiting for you. They don’t say your name but my heart screams it over and over, calling for you: Regina, Regina, Regina. And look at you, all pastel and glitter—soft and radiant on the outside as I know you to be within. Your eyes perhaps a little too wide, your smile a notch too tight. Here to prove yourself. But there is nothing to prove—not to me. I already know everything I need. My smile is for you, is for that pesky year in which you’d have no doubt mocked me for a smitten, lovesick puppy if I’d dared look at you this way. And I suppose I am. Absolutely, hopelessly besotted with you.

*** Mother would tell me love is weakness, and life taught me that lesson over and over. Such lessons are hard to unlearn. But I’m trying. Oh how I’m trying. Because love can be exploited, yes, but it can also be forged into a weapon that fuels courage and unparallelled fierceness. And then love becomes strength. Protecting myself seems unimportant when it comes to protecting those precious to me.

We’re destined, you and I, and no matter when or where our paths cross, we’re going to feel it. A connection that can’t be foiled, nor denied. One that won’t be ignored even with my heart displaced. We’re bound together at the very soul.

We’re destined, but even that, I learned, is no guarantee. A tavern never entered is all it takes to miss a precious chance, and will my mind ever stop wandering to page XXIII, wondering what kind of life we could have had? A short one, presumably, with a violent end—yet still I wonder. Don’t you?

You say it’s all about timing. So is this it for us? The right time?

We can only hope.

No matter the time or the realm, I can at least promise to never run again. To hold on to this, to us—together.

My mother would sing of broken hearts, and I, a strapping lad of fifteen, swore never to meet that fate. Foolish youth knows nothing about the price of all things good and pure, but years, friendships, and yes, love, have taught me better.

Never did I dream I would be the one to break a heart though, least of all yours. Never yours. Even pixie dust holds no promise of unscathed hearts. Ours are both scarred, both touched by darkness, both rejuvenated with light that entered with the love of a child. You and I, we match.

Father would warn against the luxury of feeling with tales of an ancient deity’s wrath. He’d speak about a terrible god smiting men for daring to love, splitting them in half with a lightning bolt, dooming them to an incomplete life. I’ve learned since that’s not how the story ends. It ends with each of us seeking the other half of our soul—and I’ve found mine. It has your name written on it, etched deep into it so that neither time nor circumstance can ever erase it.

Across time and across realms, I choose you and will keep choosing you, and my soul soars.

[secretsantaandsmores]

A Chance at Grace

Robin is dying.

His mouth is parched, his head pounding, his legs wobble when he tries to stand. He falls back to the straw pallet, presses the balls of his palms against his eyes until he sees little explosions of light. The dull, monotone rhythm of a builder’s hammer, the cock’s crow, the cathedral bells chiming, it all threatens to split his skull open. Perhaps it would be best if his head were to explode straight away, he thinks as the torture intensifies. A goblet of wine, that’s what he needs, or a jug of ale, or mead—the strong, heady brew of which he tossed a few down last night—

He’s hungover.

Again.

God, he is scum.

Robin opens his eyes, forces them to stay so against the blinding, murderous brightness of sunshine streaming in through the window (how very un-English of it, and just how much of said perception is liquor-induced?). A row of pallets stands lined up in the oblong room, his the first by the wall adorned by a simple wooden cross, and he’s the luxury of a night stand with a jug and mug waiting. He attempts to stand again, stomach roiling in protest.

“Look who’s finally woken up.”

Keep reading

[secretsantaandsmores]

Fic: Bind My Wandering Heart to Thee

[secretsantaandsmores]

Here’s another teaser from the gift I’m preparing for @outlawqueenluvr, this time from the second part of it. Once again it’s still untitled and unbeta-ed. Just some thoughts of Regina and maaaybe a little bit of Outlaw Queen ;)

And just like that, Zelena is gone.

Regina feels an exhilaration she hasn’t felt for a long time.

They were right here, at this exact spot not that long ago, but that time it was her sister who had won. She had left Regina bruised and battered, in agonizing pain from the tiny pieces of glass that were piercing her skin. And now Regina has managed to send her back to her land without even putting up an actual fight with her. She feels quite proud of herself, and content that she managed to find a solution along with Robin. The witch might have been another obstacle for not only them, but the entire town as well, judging from her attempt to occupy the mayor’s office, and right now that’s the last thing they need.

Regina’s smile wavers when she thinks about the problems her family and friends are facing. Henry and the Charmings are together at Granny’s, practically waiting for the world to end. Regina finds it hard to believe that Henry has lost hope. She knows that he hasn’t; he just wants to spend time with his family while he believes that his moms will save everyone. Robin is waiting for her back in her office, so that they can take off to deal with the situation like they’ve been dealing with everything so far: together. And somewhere in the forest, Roland and Robin’s – their – baby girl are soothed and protected by people who would give their life for them, the Merry Men. Regina sighs heavily, thinking that pure people like them, like Henry, little Neal, Roland and the baby girl, don’t deserve that mess of a life. She needs to find a way to save the town, even if it’s only for them.

With a last look at the broken glass of the clock tower – she winces at the thought of having to fix it once again; any damage to the town’s property painful even after weeks of not being there to actually be the mayor – she poofs herself back to her office.

Like she expected, Robin is there, waiting for her. He turns around to face her, any doubt of the unknown disappearing once he realizes that it’s her. His eyes are full of concern, those pools of blue Regina thinks she can drown in, and he doesn’t have to say anything. Regina knows the question before he can even open his mouth to ask and she nods to let him know that it worked. The wrinkles on his forehead loosen a little, his frown not that deep now that they have one less problem to take care of.

Robin takes a step forward and then another and another until Regina realizes that his approach is quicker than it had been registered on her brain at first. Suddenly he’s in front of her, and it dawns on her that he’s there. They’ve overcome separation and deceit and an entirely different world and even death, they came back together stronger than ever and just now she’s realizing that he’s there.

He’s looking at her like he’s seeing her for the first time and yet as if he has always known her, the real her, as if he has always loved her.

Their faces are inches away, their breaths mingling as they’re coming out in short puffs, Robin obviously as affected by her as she is by him.

And their lips finally fuse together, tasting each other slowly, savoring the moment their hearts explode into a crazy rhythm, excitement and affection decorating their deep connection.

[secretsantaandsmores]

Here’s a teaser from the first part of the fic I’m writing for my lovely giftee @outlawqueenluvr! It’s unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine. I just wanted to give you a small idea of what is to come ;) I’m really bad at coming up with titles, so the story is still untitled, sorry about that!

It’s not the first time in Roland’s short life that memories are pushed into his brain. Or maybe they were already there and now they’re just being uncovered. That would make more sense – although nothing seems to be making sense anymore. Whenever he thinks everything is okay, whenever he dares to believe that he can enjoy playing in the forest, being with his papa and eating his favorite meals in peace again, something happens to change it all. They always tell him it’s something bad, something he shouldn’t worry about because he has a lot of people who love him and are willing protect him.

He doesn’t always believe them.

He is certain that’s what going on is far more serious than he can imagine. Sometimes he wants to know, he wants to be with his papa and Regina and Henry, he wants to protect baby Neal himself, he wants to never stay behind again. Some other times he wants to forget the things he knows and never remember the things he is supposed to have missed after each curse. He only wants some blissful moments with his favorite people, he wants to spent his days as wonderfully as he did when they were still home.

What’s happening to him right now shouldn’t be as unexpected and violent as it feels. His papa prepared him about it happening. He told him that he would remember their trip to Camelot like the other time when he remembered living in Regina’s castle.

Roland wasn’t scared. He wasn’t worried. He had expected memories to come back. What he hadn’t expected was a pain in his chest, a singing feeling that left him panting and sobbing.

Little John is there in seconds, enveloping him in a bear hug. All Roland wants is to be with his papa, but he knows his papa can’t be there right now. He promised he would be back soon after the memories. So Roland takes comfort in his huge friend’s warm embrace and tries to make his heartbeat slow down.

Little John is rubbing soothing circles on his back while telling him something. The words don’t register in Roland’s brain though. His mind is filled with voices and images, things he wants to forget again, because life is too confusing, too complicated, now even more so than before.

After his sobs have subsided, he can feel Little John’s heart against his ear, beating in a crazy rhythm as well. He wonders if it’s because the same set of memories were forced into the man as well.

Little John gently moves Roland away from his body, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket. He hands it to Roland and the little boy blows his nose noisily. At least now he can breathe properly.

“Roland!”

The little boy’s head turns around so quickly he thinks his neck is going to ache for days. But he doesn’t care, because his papa takes him in his arms and lifts his off the ground, supporting his body up in the air with one arm and using the other to bury his fingers in his loose curls, bringing the boy’s head a little closer to his. Roland brings his arms around his papa’s neck, attempting to pull him closer as well.

It’s familiar and amazing. It should be everything Roland needs.

But he realizes that it’s not.

His papa pulls away slightly to look at him and something in Roland’s appearance brings a worried – almost panicked – expression to his face. Roland knows this expression well. It’s there every time they’re in danger, every time one of those really bad things happens.

“What’s wrong, my boy? Don’t you remember now? Don’t you remember playing swords, eating in the grand dining room, visiting the stables with Henry?”

His papa’s voice is calm and Roland doesn’t want to upset him more. He does remember those things and he tells him that. His papa asks him if something is wrong once again, but this time Roland doesn’t say anything.

How could he tell him that he isn’t the one he needs? That it’s his mama’s embrace he longs to be in? That ever since he remembered, a big hole has taken over a spot in his heart and it won’t go away because his mama is not with them anymore?

[secretsantaandsmores]

Elf yourself with Regina, Robin and @lolcat76   (x)

Merry Christmas from your silly OQ Secret Santa! :D

[secretsantaandsmores]

“My hands will get dirty holding your rose-shaped heart, because love is like gardening–it’s earthy and it takes work to keep it alive” Jarod Kintz

An exploration of Outlaw Queen through their hands.

Merry Christmas @taintedlove-wiltedflowers !!! This is your OQ secret santa. I wanted to make you a drawing but i’ve been having serious issues with photoshop so I might add some drabbles to go along with these.