#indigo promo my beloved

[hvseoks]

RM x Dazed Korea

[telemna-hyelle]

a sneak peak at a sketch i’m working on

still very rough but it’s coming along nicely I think

[kithtaehyung]

🎨 Every Month of 2022 🎨

Link a creation from each month this year <3 (it’s totally fine to skip months!) and tag some creators you love!

tagged by my beloveds @raplinenthusiasts, @anpanmann, @rumue, @jeongtokkie, @sevencoloredstar, and @avizou the TALENT is overflowing. thank you all for thinking of me :')) i loved seeing all of your creations and here's to a productive and fun new year! full list of links under the cut💕

january: scrapbook agustd february: hobiday22 - hope world visuals march: D3T0UR album concept april: bangtan world tour merch concept may: 2 years with d-2 - d-2 visuals june: JITB edited promo poster july: MORE movie poster set (that took off on twt!) august: time difference movie posters september: sexy nukim promo posters october: the astronaut movie posters november: indigo promo posters december: indigo visuals series

i wonder what type of gfx sets i like making..... lmao.

idk how i managed to create and post at least one thing per month this year? it felt like i wasn't exactly making things gfx or gif-wise, more like getting stuff ready for a print shop. but i guess i couldn't stay away from photoshop for too long at a time lol. here's to a lot more creating in 2023! to anyone looking forward to my sets being prints (among other things), the site is on the way :D

pretty sure i'm the last one to do this but tagging some creators i love and miss: @kimtaegis, @userhobi, @rosebowl, @gimbapchefs, @eggjinnie, @yooboobies, @kth1, @jeonggukshi, @rkivedfiles, @jung-koook, @sugajimin, @ofkimtaehyung, @slipped-away, @jooheons, @jsuga, and @tanyoorine !! happy new year!

[finishinglinepress]

FLP POETRY BOOK OF THE DAY: All My Ghosts Are Hereby John Smith

TO ORDER GO TO: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/all-my-ghosts-are-here-by-john-smith/

RESERVE YOUR COPY TODAY

All My Ghosts Are Here is filled with the spirits of people and places that live inside the poet. They appear here as poems of loss and grief, poems of passings and transitions, poems of praise and celebration. They are memories of loved ones, landmarks. These are intimate poems grounded in the local, the commonplace and familiar, the living and dead. These poems uncover the sacred in the profane, the other world inside this one, or simply reveal this one, as is, which is enough. As the poet says in the title poem, If there is an afterlife, let it be this again.

John Smith’s poetry has appeared in journals such as SmartishPace, Berfrois Journal, The Literary Review, and Spillway. His work has been set to music by composer, Tina Davidson, and commissioned by New Jersey Audubon. His previous poetry collection is titled Even That Indigo. John lives in Frenchtown, NJ with his wife, the calligrapher and henna artist, Catherine Lent.

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR All My Ghosts Are Here by John Smith

“John Smith is a cartologist of the world, collecting both birds and ghosts, of what both the body knows and what it has forgotten. All the ghosts are here. The workers at the IGA, the pandemic dead, the strata of the earth, casinos and cicadas, there is labor and minimum wage, a child’s shifting gender, a grandson born, love letters to his wife. At one point he writes, “Everything has an afterlife/as long as someone/remembers it.” Which is why I love these poems, where what is gone never fully leaves, carried in the heart’s ventricles, and what is lived is turned into a kind of singing, human, bird-like, almost anti-elegiac, defiant, all of it singing. Blue Herons, grackles, clowns and Kabir. Ornette Coleman, and our holy dead. He must write it down. These gifts from the vessel. All of it. All of it. All of it.”

–Sean Thomas Dougherty, author of The Second O of Sorrow

“John Smith’s poems fully comprehend the principal irony of the local: it is ubiquitous. In All My Ghosts Are Here the poet intimately shares with us his New Jersey, his Garden State, his archetypal nowhere. And he fully enters the local landscape by way of elegy, which, as we know, is not just a commemoration of the dead but a celebration of what’s alive, haunted and haunting — beloved.”

—Patrick Rosal, author of The Last thing: New and Selected Poems

Please share/please repost [PROMO]#flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #poetry

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday Christmas Reblog: “Oh Night Divine”

This fic was originally my 2017 @cssecretsanta gift for the lovely @princesswan.  It’s a future one-shot, canon divergent, but one could easily imagine it having happened sometime not so long after where season six left off. The only thing truly AU about it is that Emma and Killian have had a little girl seemingly much sooner than they did in the show’s timeline, and I've given her my favorite AU name - Morgan Ruth - because back when I wrote this, we didn't even know little Hope would be a reality. 

Enjoy the Christmas fluff, and may it warm your heart and bring you a smile!

          The deep night’s watch was still and silent in the chill, frosty air of Maine as Killian Jones – mostly retired pirate captain, part-time deputy and harbormaster of Storybrooke – padded in sock feet and flannel pajama pants (an article of clothing he had gained quite an affinity for in the past handful of years) down the stairs of his family’s home.  Certainly the sleeping house, his Savior wife wheezing the teeniest of adorable snores upstairs in the bed they shared, and the now-soothed infant daughter once more dozing in his careful arms, were all peaceful, and the darkness broken just slightly by blue lights that wash over the living room from their Christmas tree placed proudly in the front window, guiding his steps enough to safely make his shuffling way toward the screened-in back porch, his favorite part of the house.

           Just as his long sailor’s instinct had surmised, Killian found the indigo sky above them dazzling with a vast array of bright stars.  Humming an oft-remembered shanty he had heard on his beloved older brother’s tongue many a similar dark night in the hold of a ship long ago when the dark wrapped around his child self in a much more sinister way, and Liam’s wiry arm had tucked his younger brother against his side and his calloused fingers sifted through Killian’s dark, wispy hair as he lightly breathed the words he barely remembered their mama, Alice, singing to put them to sleep at night. The whole refrain was lost to his memory ages ago, but strains of it sometimes came to him as he sought out his deepest memories – in echoes of the voices he loved most, all he’d had to love in the world until a green-eyed Savior, her son and family, crashed into his life like a tidal wave, taking him over with a power that couldn’t be held back. It had been a wild, challenging, unbelievable journey from that first glimpse of his lost princess wife’s mistrustful face glaring at him over the smoking wreckage of an Enchanted Forest refugee camp, to where he now stood barefoot on the wooden porch floor, holding their infant daughter, the product of their own True Love, in his arms. Yet, as Killian mused over it, slight up-curved tilt to his strong, full lips as he husked the last few notes of the lullaby against soft, downy wisps of dark hair at the crown of his daughter’s head and bounced slightly at the snuffled grunts she made against his shoulder, not sure if she wanted to fuss more or not, every inch he had fought for as he climbed over the walls around his Emma’s heart, had been worth it to bring him here.

           Deftly catching up an afghan made specifically for them as a first anniversary gift from Granny Lucas herself, Killian looped it over his stump and lifted it from the back of an old rocking chair to drape it over his other shoulder, arm, and the infant cradled within its grasp.  Unfazed, his sleepy daughter huffed slight gusts of warm baby breath against his bare chest, where she was snuggled, calming from the tears she had woken in when he’d gotten her from the nursery some minutes before.  Though she clearly enjoyed the warmth and security offered by the skin-to-skin contact with her sturdy, doting papa, Killian could not fathom that she gained more from these pure and priceless moments in the peaceful stillness on quiet nights than he did.

           Stroking a gentle brush of his blunted wrist over her shoulder as she nuzzled in a bit more comfortably, he watched her eyelids flutter sleepily and a soft yawn stretch her little mouth momentarily wide. Killian stepped quietly over to where they could both look out on the pristine white lawn running all the way to the iced-over, rocky shoreline where the back of their property met the bay, glowing under the moon in a perfect Maine winter’s night.  His Morgan Ruth blinked once again, her green eyes - every bit as beguiling as her mother’s – opened to stare amazedly at the scene stretched out before them.  Chuckling lightly in the back of his throat, Killian readjusted his grip as she sat forward curiously, gazing over all the blanketed white where usually there was grey and green, so that her back was now facing him, and she could really take in the nighttime landscape.  “That’s right, my bonny wee lass.  A Christmas Eve snow…many believe it lucky,” he murmured to her low and easy, a warm undercurrent to their quiet vigil, mere soothing sound to young Morgan Ruth Jones, but he was unable to stop the flow of words he had for her, and the overwhelming flood of pride and love he could never have imagined experiencing for himself – that of a father for a child of his own.

           As they stood before the large bank of windows, and he whispered lilting nonsense to her of the brightest stars on the midnight canvas of the sky and pointed out for her enjoyment the lighted angel on the top of Marco’s woodshop and the lights on the dock festooned to warn unfamiliar ships of the harbor’s edge, he couldn’t help marveling at the fact that he stood peacefully, the seething anger and revenge that had dogged him for centuries finally still, in the home he shared with his True Love and stepson, and the precious child in his arms. Bending his head once more to press a gentle kiss to Morgan’s head, it was easy to marvel at how far he had voyaged from the black-hearted villain he had let himself become to the man of honor he was once again, and the gift that the journey had given him.

           With Morgan in his arms, the blue glow of Christmas tree lights still shining from behind him as he looked out over the snow and the waves lapping gently against the rocky beach, even the thought of their entire extended clan of family and friends joining them tomorrow for Christmas dinner and the sharing of gifts, songs, stories, and laughter, could not top the stolen hour he had with his little girl, the one who had recaptured his heart already stolen by her mother.  There was no other holiday event to equal the poignant thrill of the one he was already in, and it was that moment when he heard Emma’s soft tread coming up behind him, followed by her cool, soft hand trailing over his side as she stopped right next to him.

           His breath trapped itself in his chest as he blinked rapidly, wondering if he had somehow drifted off into a dream standing still.  He had been wrong seconds ago, because only with his wife’s presence as well was the night’s magic fully complete.

^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^^***

           Emma Swan - now Jones - had woken up alone, and after groggily feeling around in the cooling sheets and covers rumpled on her husband’s side of their bed, she had awakened more fully, and then admitted defeat, pulled on her robe, and gone in search of him.  It hadn’t really taken her long; there was a definite circuit her startlingly predictable and domestic rapscallion made when he was up late at night.  Starting at the room just down the hall from theirs, tucked into the northern corner of the house, Emma peeked in to see her now nearly adult son sleeping soundly, his feet kicked out from under the blankets and arm flung up over his face.  Though he was not Killian’s by birth, it had never stopped making Emma’s heart beat faster at how much Killian treasured her son, and always thought of him first. Henry’s room was still her captain’s first stop on his nightly check-in, whether Henry was almost eighteen or not.

           Moving back the way she had come on silent, slippered tiptoes Emma paused to smile in warm affection at the pictures scattered along the walls of their upstairs hallway.  They had – almost a year ago now, she mused – commissioned a large, spreading tree painted on the wall, its large branches filled with craggy twigs and green leaves reaching to cover the full length of the upstairs hall.  Hung at staggered intervals on the overspread branches were family photos they had taken and framed, gradually filling the wall with treasured memories.  Emma traced a finger over the picture just before her – one of herself in the delivery room with a mere minutes-old Morgan in her arms while her father stood at her bedside, hand cradling the back of her head as he often did, unabashed tears streaming down his strong face as he traced a finger over his granddaughter’s soft baby cheek and bent to place a kiss to Emma’s hair.  

           The whole thing, a “literal family tree” Killian had marveled enthusiastically when she had shared the idea with him, and again in awe when they stood back to look at it finished with pictures on its boughs, no longer brought the ache of pain in her chest that it once had.  She had often seen the family tree for pictures years ago, when she was about seven, at one of the first foster homes she’d been placed in long term. She had loved the thing, spent hours staring at all the pictures until she knew every single one and its spot of honor by heart.  As she stayed there one month, then two, and then three and her birthday neared, she had begun to hope that she might be adopted and added to the tree – a picture of her own saying that she finally belonged.  When she had instead been gifted a new lunch box and a fitting for the glasses she’d needed instead, and had then haltingly braved asking, only to be told offhandedly than that she was “a good kid” but she wasn’t family, wasn’t going to be staying forever, Emma had shattered somewhere inside, beyond repair, and the first level of that wall around her heart had been completed.

           Looking at the next picture, one of Henry, Anna, and Kristoff sprawled in a tangle of arms and legs on the ice rink Elsa had whipped up for them when their friends visited from Arendelle two Christmases ago, with Emma and Elsa laughingly trying to help them up instead of joining the giggling heap, Emma smiled gently despite the bittersweet scene that had bubbled back up momentarily. Seeing their happy memories preserved right in front of her, she was prouder and more contented than ever that she and her True Love had created this tree of their own, both of them now celebrating the holidays – and every day – with family neither of them had believed they would ever have…the family she had always wished for.

           Her smile small and knowing as it curved the soft contours of her face, the dimple pressing clearly into her cheek, Emma quickly checked Morgan’s nursery just across from she and Killian’s bedroom, but was not a bit surprised when she found both the cradle and the rocker, where she often discovered her husband sitting with their daughter, crooning to her until she went back to sleep, both empty.  She knew exactly where she would find them both, and suddenly she needed to see them, to wrap her arms around her husband and her daughter, to touch them both and remind herself that her once wistful dream had come true at last.

           When she stepped off the linoleum of their large kitchen – who would have ever imagined a pirate captain and a teenage boy would become adventurous cooking enthusiasts together? – and onto the hardwood of the enclosed porch, she knew Killian almost instantly sensed her presence.  Not much got by him after all.  Still, the sight of him in the glow of the moon through glass, cradling their child in his arms, near took her breath away, the dim light stealing none of his beauty, nor succeeding in hiding the handsome contours of his scruffy jawline or the twinkling blue of his mischievous gaze as she drew up alongside him, simply having to reach out and touch his warm skin as he turned to smile down at her.

           “What’re you two doing out here in the middle of the night again, hmm?” she murmured lowly, pressing a kiss to his bare bicep while happily burrowing into his side and then trailing lazy fingers over Morgan’s back before resting her hand at Killian’s waist, soothingly rubbing there as he hummed low in his throat, contented as a cat now that both his loves were with him.

           “Merely enjoying the few festive lights around the water,” he spoke lowly in response, his doting glance slipping down to Morgan, who had since turned back into his chest and resumed her sleep, belying his words about them both watching the lights and clearly gaining much more enjoyment from some cozy rest in her father’s arms.

           “Is that so?” Emma nodded playfully, as if humoring his ridiculous fancy. Beyond Marco’s décor and the dock lights, there wasn’t much Christmas lighting out so near the harbor.  She knew her husband still loved being close to the water, watching its perpetual ebb and flow ease his soul, and that he was probably hoping the same affinity would transfer to their daughter. Smirking, at the impish idea that entered her mind, Emma rubbed her hand up and down over his lower back, once more drawing his full attention.  Quirking an eyebrow as well, she added playfully, “Well, what if I really gave you something to look at, Sailor?”

           “Why,” he quirked his own rascally eyebrow with a curious tip of his head, “whatever might you mean, Love?” he returned, tip of his tongue sneaking out to run over his lower lip in a way Emma’s eyes couldn’t help but follow with her own hungry gaze. Years may have passed since their trip up the beanstalk, but he had never ceased being sizzlingly attractive to her – at a moment’s notice, with a single gesture.

           “Hmm…” she pursed her lips, looking at him deviously while merely pretending to think, “maybe something like this?” She didn’t even look away from him when she twisted her hand, and with a flick of her fingers, seemingly illuminated the night in front of them.

           Turning to look back out the windows, Killian couldn’t miss his own ship at the dock, as his dazzling wife had just lit it up like their living room tree.  White twinkle lights outlined the sails and the bow against the night sky, complete with a bright red star atop the main mast and running multicolored bulbs trailing down the mast from the star and over to circle the ship’s wheel.  “Bloody brilliant,” he mouthed in almost silent admiration, and Emma snorted lightly, shaking her head at this man who had seen and done so much, and yet still could be made so genuinely happy with the smallest sincere gesture.

           “So, that’ll do, will it, Captain?” she asked teasingly.

           “Aye,” he nodded, eyes coming back to hers and looking down on her and Morgan with such love that Emma again struggled to catch her breath.  “It will indeed.”

           She clasped his elbow, squeezing tightly and content to stay there with him the rest of the night, hating to move and have the moment of rare perfect contentment end.  “Merry Christmas, Killian,” she whispered lightly.

           “Merry Christmas to you too,” he replied, moving to the settee where they both could huddle with Morgan and enjoy their new festively lighted view to their hearts’ content.  “I love you, my Swan.” 

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @jrob64 @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @apiratewhopines @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @jennjenn615​ @laschatzi​ @stahlop​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​ @gingerpolyglot​ @elizabeethan​ @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx​ @winterbaby89​ @let-it-raines​ @ineffablecolors​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @donteattheappleshook​ @drowned-dreamer​ @shireness-says​ @sotangledupinit @anmylica @xarandomdreamx @caught-in-the-filter @hollyethecurious @ilovemesomekillianjones @justanother-unluckysoul @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @bluewildcatfanatic @thislassishooked

[jarienn972]

Fighting Back

From the moment we saw the Kraken in last week’s promo, I’ve had ideas swirling in my head envisioning a scene like this.  We all know that a certain pirate has been way overdue to do something stupid that puts him in mortal danger. This is probably the fastest I’ve ever put together a little fic - just two days so please forgive any editing errors. This probably won’t even be close to what we’ll actually see on screen, but I figured I’d share my little headcannon anyway. Something tells me that this one might be right up @killian-whump ‘s alley....

Word count <2500

“I’ll distract the beast!” he recalled shouting to the Princess and the genie.  “Get back to the ship! Have them ready the harpoons!”  He remembered vividly the Princess' warnings that the deadly Kraken would kill him, but the pleas went unheeded as he tossed a rock at the creature from the shoreline to draw its ire toward himself and away from his friends trying desperately to drive it away from the rowboat using only the oars.  They were likely correct in their assumption, but if they didn’t manage to collect a supply of the beast’s blood, they would still be trapped here in this realm and if there were no way for him to return to mend Emma's broken heart, perhaps he was better off dead.

For the moment at least, he was still forging ahead with the battle. Kraken's blood… Of all the bloody ridiculous things to fuel a ship, it had to be the blood of a sea monster?  He hurled another heavy stone toward the creature and continued to goad it until a huge tentacle swung his direction and swept his legs out from beneath him.  He managed to regain a portion of his balance, landing on his knees, but as he pushed himself back upright, the tentacle whipped backward, encircling his upper body, lifting him off of the beach with his arm pinned uselessly against his sides. As he twisted and contorted his torso attempting to escape its grasp, the offending appendage only tightened its grip, dragging him momentarily under the surface of the shallow water, constricting tighter as he fought.

He could hear the monster’s fearsome roar as its tentacle raised him into the air yet again, drawing its prey closer to its gaping mouth with row after row of razor sharp teeth lying in wait. 't'will be a fitting end for a pirate, he thought – to meet his demise at the wrath of a sea monster.  Perhaps this was always meant to be his fate, his mind taunted him as he caught a glimpse of the Princess striking another of the Kraken's tentacles with an oar.  A valiant effort, but likely for naught, his own thoughts betrayed him yet again, reminding him he'd never make it back to his own princess – not that he was deserving to anyway.  The vice grip holding him forced his arms tighter against his body which now was erupting in the intense, agonizing pain of bones cracking and snapping and the crushing sensation of air being forced from his lungs by the pressure.  All he could be thankful for at this moment was that he would at least die before the creature swallowed him whole.

The lure of the blackness was intoxicating – urging him to stop fighting and surrender to unconsciousness and he was nearly there when he saw the glint of light – a flash of sunlight reflecting off of a metal object – a mere moment before a harpoon sunk into the fleshy tentacle less than an arm's distance from where it clung to him.  The creature howled in pain at the assault as additional sharp objects struck near the center of its body.  Reeling from the injury, the Kraken loosened its grip on Killian's now nearly motionless body, flinging him toward the boulder strewn shoreline as a blade severed a portion of the tentacle previously wrapped about the pirate.  

Killian himself was already far too dazed from injury to realize he was falling and didn’t even attempt to cushion the impact – not that his wounded limbs would even respond.  He landed with a dull thud, his head glancing off of a boulder that tore a jagged gash across his temple.  He could hear voices shouting his name, concerned queries for his well-being, but he couldn’t force his eyes to focus.  A figure before him bellowed an order to get help as they collected the severed tentacle to gather the valuable fluid to refill the canister. He recognized the voice as Liam's and heard him say that they'd obtained the necessary blood to allow them to return to Storybrooke.

“Tell Emma I love her…,” Killian whispered with a week smile.  “Tell her I’m sorry…I tried…” his voice trailed off as the blackness consumed him, leaving him with only a vision of the face he so desperately wished to return to.

  She remembered sprinting to the harbor after Jasmine and Ariel had found her, each of them bearing the same forlorn expression on their face – the same sense of urgency in their voices.  They’d informed her that the Nautilus and her crew had returned from their unplanned adventure, but not unscathed. There had been casualties in their hunt for and violent battle with the Kraken to obtain the creature's blood which was necessary for their return and much to Emma's dismay, Killian had been one of the unlucky. She had left the two princesses far behind as she rushed to reach her love, clutching to the hope she wouldn’t be too late.  Jasmine had briefly relayed what had transpired, but she still wasn’t quite certain what to expect.

His half-brother, Liam, greeted her as she approached, fully prepared for her curt “Where is he?” query.  She'd swallowed hard, almost regretting the harshness of her tone as her eyes took in the scars present on the vessel's hull.  They had all been through a traumatic event losing two crew members in the scuffle with others injured, but she could only focus on one particular passenger at the present.

“Captain’s quarters,” had been his response.  “Nemo is with him.  I’ll show you the way…”  Emma had only nodded her reply.  She would have to properly thank him later, but she was too preoccupied with her own doubts about her ability to aid her beloved pirate.  Liam escorted her below deck to the Captain’s stateroom, roughly the same size as Killian’s quarters on the Jolly, but more lavishly appointed.  The younger Jones then stepped away as Captain Nemo greeted her with a tepid smile – equal parts friendly yet distant - as though warning her that it may already be too late.  He stood between her and the narrow bunk where Killian lay, moving aside only after he'd locked eyes with her, absorbing all of the emotion that radiated from her - anger, fear, sadness, betrayal, but he could still sense that the strongest emotion was pure love.

“We did all we could,” the Captain insisted, and in her heart, she knew they had, but in the middle of nowhere, what could they have done.  “The Nautilus is well known for her swiftness, but I fear her speed was not enough.”  The thought of what Gideon had done to separate them made her stomach churn with anger, but she would have to deal with that little pain in the ass later as her task at hand was finding a way to heal her stubborn but incredibly brave wounded pirate.  He'd taken on a Kraken for God’s sake!  She wasn’t certain if she should be proud or horrified at the thought of it and now, at the first sight of him lying before her motionless, all of the anger, frustration and bitterness were pushed aside.

There was little space on the bunk, but she squeezed in next to his hip, craving the closeness to him as she assessed his injuries, concern renewed in her own abilities to save him. Most obvious was the gash on his forehead which had been hastily bandaged with strips of torn linen cloth – likely part of an old uniform or bedding.  His hair was matted with traces of sand, still damp with sea water and blood – both his own and that of the Kraken. The shape of the laceration was visible even beneath the makeshift bandages and it was clearly still bleeding, crimson rivulets escaping from the linen intended to soak it in.  His leather coat lay on the floor beside him and while an indigo woolen blanket had been draped over him, his vest and shirt had been unbuttoned to bare his chest in an effort to examine the extent of his crushed rib cage. Darkening patches of deep purple and black had formed across his torso indicating where he was bleeding internally, the only other visible clue to how severe the Kraken had assaulted him. She tried to isolate just the sound of his breath – short, shallow and labored which meant his lungs were probably damaged as well and perhaps even his spine as no one had witnessed any movement from him from the time he landed on the shore. Was she really up for this? she asked herself as she could now taste the saline from the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I know what Gideon did,” she whispered to him as she focused, concentrating on tapping into the magic flowing through her veins.  Already wrought with emotion, her hand began to tremble, but she shook it off.  Not this time, she had to remind herself.  Not letting the tremor get the best of me… “I know you didn’t abandon me and I’m not going to let you leave me this way either.”  She squeezed her eyelids closed as tightly as she could forcing herself to think only of the powers she needed until she could feel the magic emanating from her palm.  She passed her hand over his midsection, mending broken bones, healing bruises and repairing the damage inflicted by the monster, but it wasn’t until she opened her eyes again that she realized she’d been concentrating so hard on her magic that she’d failed to notice that he’d stopped breathing. His skin was still pallid and as she lowered her fingertips to brush along his face, it was cool to her touch.  “No…,” she sobbed as the tears flowed faster now.  “You can’t leave me like this…”

Ariel and Jasmine, who’d at last caught up to the distraught Emma, arrived just as she’d completed healing Killian’s injuries, fully expecting that she would be able to bring him back from the brink, but even they looked on in disbelief when he didn’t stir.  It was their worst fear come to pass – they hadn’t made the journey back in time.  All wanted to comfort Emma, to relay Killian’s message to her, yet none dared speak.  There were no words that would possibly ease the pain so evident in her blank stare.  But Emma herself wasn’t yet ready to give up so easily.  Ever since the tremors started, she’d doubted her magic, doubted herself.  She’d been able to heal Ashley, but only with the full support of Killian.  Now they’d come full circle and no matter what his faults, he was the one unwavering voice of encouragement.  He may not have believed in his own strength, but he was confident in hers and she couldn’t fail him again.

Maybe magic wasn’t the answer she began to theorize, still sensing his presence even as he lay deathly quiet beside her.  She drew her hands up to cup his jawline for a moment, thumbs gently stroking the scruff of his beard before allowing the fingers of her right hand to drift lower onto the cords of his neck where she realized she could feel a slight pulsation against her touch.

He was still alive!

Unconcerned that she had an audience she forced his lips apart as she shifted her position so that she was kneeling above him then dipped her head to bring her mouth to his.  When Zelena and Gold had attempted to drown him to force her to sacrifice her magic to save him, she’d brought him back sharing her own breath and maybe she could again.

“Killian…come back to me…,” she pleaded just as she had back then – back when her feelings toward him were just as conflicted as they’d been for the past few days.  Magic had failed her then as it had now, but she was just as determined that he wouldn’t die today either.

And a single breath was all it took for as soon as her lips met his and sealed their reunion, a blast of light burst forth, shaking the entire ship as though the Kraken had been unleashed yet again, but it took less than a second before she felt her gesture being returned as a gentle kiss, then he broke free, his lungs greedily sucking in a deep breath as his eyes flickered open. Tears were still rolling down her face, even falling onto his skin as he awoke, but now they were at least joyful ones.

“Emma…,” he stammered, still partially reeling from the shock that he was alive and both ashamed and grateful that she was here at his side.

“We’ll talk later you stupid, stubborn, asinine pirate…” but then she interrupted herself by pressing her lips back into him, the tension of the past few days being released in the passion of being reunited.  Yes, there was still much to hash out, but audience be damned, she was just elated to have her love back, not even yet realizing that a True Love’s kiss may have just opened the next chapter of their story.

A grinning Captain Nemo quickly ushered the others out of the stateroom, allowing his friends a moment of privacy, overjoyed to see that they were back on their proper path.

“I thought I’d lost you – that I’d pushed you away,” she confessed.  “I know I overreacted a bit, but you still should have told me the truth.”

“It was never you I didn’t trust,” he replied. “I’d no faith in myself not to make the same mistakes again.  You have to understand that I’d no idea what I’d done all those years ago that changed all of our fates… I just couldn’t forgive myself…”

“As I said, we’ll talk about all of that later – and you definitely need to sit down and have a man to man talk with my dad, but it will all be alright in the end.  I know you’re not that same man, Killian and so does my father.  It’ll sting at first, but eventually, he’ll realize that it was the villain, Captain Hook who committed the crime, not Killian Jones.” She smiled as he lowered his eyes, still harboring the guilt of his past, but she knew forgiveness would ease his troubled mind one day.  “Right now, can we just go home?”

“I’d love nothing more, Swan.”

“Good - because we are definitely going to have to work together to deal with a certain little Golden brat!”

[luvambrylayn]

Broken Hearts (1)

Characters: AJ Styles and OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content, Angst, Fantasy Smut

Short Summary: Taking place in late January 2016, the OFC, who is recovering from a bad break up, has worked in NXT for two years when she is brought up to the Main Roster. However, she shows a disliking towards AJ Styles, who is going through a divorce, who has made his debut in WWE.

Word Count: 3,294

Other Great Blogs to Check Out: @llowkeys, @wwe-smutfics, @wrasslesmut, @laochbaineann, @thatonegirloncealways, @wwesmutdonedirtcheap, @crowleysqueenofhell, and @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues

Okay, I’m trying something new, with this story potentially having a second part to it. Let me know what you guys think.

Monday Night After Royal Rumble 2016

Mia Stone's POV

I stand in front of a mirror in my own personal locker room. It is supposed to be a surprise that I am debuting. I had to be here an hour before everyone else in order to get settled. This included getting new attire, and being talked to about what was happening on the show.

Now, I was studying myself in the mirror. I wore an indigo brassiere with royal purple streamers with a gray sports bra underneath. I also had black lettering with a gold outline that said "STONE" across my breasts. I was kind of glad for this. It drew attention away from my cleavage.

While I was was confident and satisfied with my looks, this did not mean I was willing to put my boobs on display to the entire world every Monday and Thursday. I usually wore long black tights, but I guess not anymore now that I was on the main roster.

My new pants were shorts that were black with gold trim. Along the hip was "STONE" in Royal Purple. I guess I was satisfied with my look. I had been in need of a new look. After all that had happened over the past few weeks, I guess I was in need of a new life.

Despite this, I still felt the need for a security blanket. I look through my things and find my gray cashmere robe. This is perfect. I throw it over myself. It still showcased my attire but hid a significant amount of skin.

A few hours later, and Raw has started. After The Authority's celebration, Renee appears on screen and welcomes AJ Styles. I roll my eyes at the pop this man gets. AJ just makes his debut at the Royal Rumble and now everyone acts as if he deserves a damn title shot.

The more I thought about the whole damn thing, the more it upset me. I have been part of this company for two years. I felt anger boiling through my blood. I was tired of people just coming in and taking what's not there's.

It just proved what I had always thought. All I am to everyone is an expendable, useless piece of shit. I feel tears forming in my eyes. Ever since my boyfriend had cheated on me, I have been contemplating who I am. I felt lost. I have felt broken.

I must have started walking without noticing because now I am out of my Locker Room and watching AJ and Chris Jericho talk to each other up close. Ever since everything happened, sometimes I end up so lost in thought I almost black out from real life. It kind of worried me, but I merely shake my head to clear it and watch as the interview ends.

AJ walks my way. I walk his way as well and shoulder him. This guy needed to know his place. He looks at me in shock. "I'm sorry Ma'am, I didn't mean to hurt you or nothing." He apologizes while also looking around in embarrassment. I chuckle menacingly.

"It's fine. But you know what really upsets me? The fact that you just think you can walk in here and strut as if you own the place don't you?" I sneer. His eyes widen in shock for a second. As if he felt sorry for me. I didn't need him feeling sorry for me.

"Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." He apologizes. I roll my eyes and walk around him. This guy obviously doesn't care who he hurts. He just walks in and debuts before I do on the main roster. Already gets a name drop from The Authority. It pissed me off.

"Just maybe think about the fact that some of us have been here for two years and are just now getting thrown a bone." I spit. He nods his head and smiles at me in disbelief. In my head I can tell I've succeeded in lifting the veil and getting rid of the Southern Hospitality facade.

"Well, you know, I've probably been wrestling since before you were in Grade School Darling. So maybe think about that." He points out. I laugh. I narrow my eyes. Looks like the little Cowboy was finally growing a spine.

"Oh, so you're admitting that you're a has-been?" I mock. He smiles. Up close, you could see the age on his face. He didn't look old, just a little worn out. Then again, this business tends to wear people out every now and then.

"Just as long as you're admitting that you're a newbie." He retorts. I narrow my eyes at him and swing at his face. He blocks my strike with a forearm. I look into his blue eyes in shock. I look around and see that we drew a crowd. I look back at him, mischief beamed through his eyes. He was amused. He thought this whole encounter was a joke.

I drop my arm as he gives me a cocky smile followed by a wink. I scoff and walk away. I didn't need to deal with this guy. When I get to my locker room, I turn a monitor on and see that AJ's match is on. I was still unbelievably upset about how he basically made me look stupid in front of everyone.

He thought that I was just a little girl he could ridicule like that. He thought that I could be turned into some kind of joke. He would pay for this, if nothing else. AJ Styles would see what it's like when you cross me.

I have let people walk all over me for far too long. This little bird was about to spread her wings.

AJ's POV

I am walking through the hallways backstage after my match. I look around and see faces that I've seen before, yet I feel all alone. I knew that this was a risk when I signed, but now that it is real, it just feels empty.

What was really stuck in my head, however, was what that woman said to me earlier. Don't get me wrong, she was a bit excessive when it came to her complaints, but I did see some merit in her argument.

I mean, she started with WWE two years ago and hear I come and debut at the Royal Rumble. Her dream of being on Raw was delayed for two years while I did it in a day. Then again, I've given 18 years of my life to wrestling. I didn't have much time left.

She, on the other hand, still seemed to have a lot more time left. Though, I guess I shouldn't judge. She may have sacrificed a lot for this company. But hell, everyone in this building has had to make sacrifices. I lost my wife. I didn't lose her to deal with this woman's temper tantrums.

Noise from a television monitor tears me from my thoughts. I look to the monitor and see the woman make her entrance. Her music was fun yet seemed to command respect. I bet it would be nice to know this version of her.

The nameplate appears, "Mia Stone". I smile. Stone fit her to a tee. The crowd begins to cheer NXT. She rolls her eyes before putting the microphone up to her lips.

"Yes, cheer for your beloved NXT, because now that I've moved on, I'm sure that ship will sink very soon." She sneers. The crowd boos, some look on in shock. I'm guessing at one point she was a fan favorite.

One thing's for sure, she knew how to draw heat. She merely laughs in dismissal of their disapproval. "Look, I'm sorry. I know it sucks that that I've left NXT, but I needed to move on. Don't blame NXT because I grew too big for it." She fakes ignorance. I chuckle. She was a piece of work. I hear a woman clear her throat behind me.

"AJ?" I turn and see my new boss, Stephanie McMahon. Her arms are crossed and she has a concerned look on her face. My heart drops. I hoped I was not about to be reprimanded. "You are not in trouble." She assures me as if reading my mind. I nod.

"Okay, how can I help you?" I ask. She sighs, what she was about to say was either difficult, or uncomfortable. Either way, I was not looking forward to this conversation.

"We received some complaints from your co-workers about an argument you had with Mia." She begins. I take a deep breath. This mess. I nod, I suppose it was time to pay the piper.

"Yes. She disagreed with the fact that I debuted on the main roster before her. It was just a simple argument." I try my best to downsize the entire thing. For both Mia and me. Stephanie chuckles.

"That isn't what we heard. We were informed that their was some name calling exchanged between the both of you." Stephanie reminds me. I wasn't trying to lie about that, I had just simply forgotten.

"Oh yes. I'm sorry I forgot. Yes, there were some insults that we both said. Like I said, she didn't appreciate the fact that I debuted before she did. She felt that I'm getting special treatment." I explain. Stephanie nods.

"Well, we like for problems between our workers to be handled in the ring. However, since that is not something that can be allowed in your case. I have decided that instead, you two won't be leaving the building until you learn to get along." Stephanie decides. My eyes widen in shock.

"Okay, I'll be here." I assure her. Stephanie smiles and leaves. Mia would kill me. If she kept up her attitude, I would end up killing her. Either way one of ends up dead.

I go to the locker room, shower, and pack my stuff. I keep my head down and don't make an effort to talk to anyone as I go to catering. Both because I was not looking forward to tonight, but also because I did not see a friendly face in this room.

I was all by myself, no wife, no family, no friends, just enemies. Welcome to the WWE AJ.

Mia's POV

I've just gotten backstage after working my first promo on the main roster. I had never been a heel before in my entire career. It was so much fun. After my promo I had a squash match with Summer Rae. I was so happy that I won my Raw debut.

Though I had to admit, it sucked that I had my Raw debut against a jobber like Summer. Meanwhile Mr. Phenomenal got to go up against Y2J, one of the best in the business. I shake my head. Enough thinking about him Mia, just try to avoid him the rest of the night.

"Mia?" I turn and see Stephanie. I hope I wasn't in any trouble. I smile at her, a smile she returns weakly. I begin to frown. I guess I am in trouble.

"Hello Ms. McMahon, can I help you with anything?" I ask, attempting to sound nonchalant. Ms. McMahon sighs. I close my eyes and roll my eyes. Great!

"Well, it has come to my attention that you had an altercation with AJ Styles. I don't want to hear about who was right, who was wrong, I just want to nip this in the bud. I will not have you or AJ arguing. So I've arranged for you and AJ to discuss this matter together. I hope you guys become the best of friends soon because I would hate to get rid of one of you." She explains. I am utterly speechless.

I didn't want to talk with AJ, it wasn't fair. Stephanie leaves while I walk miserably to my locker room. Before I make it, I see Becky and sigh. "Beck, have you seen Styles?" I ask. She points to catering.

"Over there Mia." She says. I nod and hug her.

"Thanks." I say before walking to catering. AJ is sitting with his phone in hand. I sigh and walk over to him. He greets me with a half-assed smile.

"He-" He begins.

"Listen." I cut off. "I know we need to talk. But, I need to shower and stuff so just give me twenty minutes." I conclude. He nods and lets me go. I get to the locker room and walk into the shower area. It takes me a while to get the perfect temperature, but I do and after the water is running nicely I get in and allow everything to wash away.

The warm water feels so good on my body as I begin to relax and clean myself. The water also feels very good on my entrance. Before I know it, my fingers make their way down to my pink lips and begin to tickle the outer folds.

As I begin to open myself up, a bit of water that flows over my womanhood works it's way inside. I moan softly. I begin to go harder, faster. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just about how long it's been since I got some.

I begin to rub myself with one hand, while beginning to tug on my pink buds with the other. Suddenly, AJ begins to appear in my head. His eyes, so blue it was as if you were looking at the sky. That smile, that made you want to drop your panties as soon as he flashed it in your direction. His muscles, thick and powerful. The abs, toned and ripped. Finally, there was the happy trail that started from his chest and traveled down to that big bulge in his tights. The bulge that suggested he was talented in other places besides the ring.

He was a catch. Though I hated to admit it, AJ was a sexy man. And the fact that he showed me any kind of attention was amazing within itself.

He began to flash into my mind more. This time with him laying me down on a bed. Him kneeling over me with his undoubtedly large cock out. Him forcing it down my throat. Slapping me if I used teeth. Making me his bitch. Of course, he would only do that because I have asked him too. God what was wrong with me. He now began to eat me out. It felt as if his tongue was made specifically to pleasure a woman. His tongue had to be skilled from years of "experience".

Only after he had warmed me up would he even think about inserting himself inside. I am sure that was just the type of lover AJ was. As he begins to work himself inside me his lips are pressed up against my ear. Making sure that I am enjoying myself. Fuck. Even in my head he is a great guy. I bunch four of my fingers together in an attempt to mimic the girth of AJ's length.

Jesus I imagine him being the best fuck anyone could ask for. The pressure had been building up inside me for some time now. This is odd as I am usually unable to orgasm through just masturbation. I decided to slow down. That was until I thought about AJ and I having hate sex. Oh the heat of it. The two of us trying to one up the other in terms of pleasure. Of course it was a toss up of who would win.

Then again. AJ is much more giving. At this thought, I explode. "Oh fuck AJ give it to me!" I shout as my juices start mingling with the water flowing down my leg. I hop out and grab a towel. I begin to pat myself dry. I can't help but feel embarrassed. I work with  number of hot sexy men, and the few orgasms I have had were rarely from thinking about my fellow coworkers before. And none as intense as that. I'm sure it's just because he was the last man I saw. I'm sure it's nothing.

AJ's POV

I watched Mia, feeling guilty. I had waited more than twenty minutes, but started to think that perhaps she had skipped out on me. I went to her locker room looking for her. That was where I found her, rubbing her beautiful pussy. I found himself rock hard in my jeans. I felt as though I should leave or announce my presence. Or offer to join. Ever since my wife left, I had been so lonely and had been unable to connect with anyone. However, I had felt something with Mia that reminded me of what I felt with my wife almost twenty years prior.

I felt challenged by my ex. That is exactly what I felt by Mia. Challenged. While Mia still needed a better attitude, her body was flawless. At least, to me it was. I watched as the clear water flowed from her brunette hair onto her shoulders. From her shoulders onto her breasts. Her breasts down her stomach. The water flowed over her womanhood. I wanted to take her right then and there.

Her stomach began to contract, as mine did when I was about to climax. She was getting ready to cum. Her juices started to flow down her leg. "Oh fuck AJ give it to me!" She cries out. My eyes widen as I realize that it was me she was masturbating about. Part of me had to wonder just what sexual scenarios she had conjured up. She began to get ready to exit the shower so I made my get away.

I was still hard as a rock. I needed to take care of this damn thing quick. I hurried to a bathroom and entered a stall. I undid my fly and pull out my cock. I began to stroke myself. I smiled at the thought of Mia masturbating. The fact that she had inserted four of her digits into herself. She didn't come close to matching how big I was. Part of me wanted to show her.

I would have to go to Church after this. I just felt as if I had violated her. I shook my head to clear it of these thoughts. Now, the only images filling my head were of her beautiful body bouncing up and down on my dick. Her screaming my name. I wanted to hear her scream my name again. Like she had when she came. God I needed my hands to explore every curve and every inch of her form. I needed her.

As it had been a while since I last had sex, cum began to shoot out of me like an unmanned fire house. A bead of sweat ran down my forehead as I closed my eyes and bit my lip to keep any sounds from escaping. I ripped off a piece of tissue paper and wiped the rest off of my hand and flushed it. I made sure my hands were clean before returning to catering.

There she was. Her brown hair sitting in a chair waiting for me. Only I should be sitting in that chair, with her bent over my leg. Me spanking her. My cock began to harden again. I ahook my head and took a seat. "So, you ready to talk?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Whatever let's get this over with." She said, her attitude was back. I can't help but smile. While she said she hated me, her body said otherwise. Maybe this could be the start of a great friendship.