10 10.ch

Time Upon Once, Ch. 10 (10/?)

Summary:  Killian Jones is a bailbonds man, living in Boston and doing his own thing. But on his 29th birthday, a kid knocks on his door and claims to be his son. What happens when Killian is forced to face his past along with a mystery prophecy about his own purpose in life?

Rating: M (eventually)

A huge thank you to @tnlph @businesscasualprincess and @blessed-but-distressed  for beta duties and @shady-swan-jones for the banner!

Tagging a few people that showed interest in this story:@lk0622 @nowforruin @sambethe @xemmaloveskillianx  @l-e-x-a-xd @profoundlyfadedprincess @once-uponacaptain @icecubelotr44  @poetic-justice-96 @allietumbles @el-kelpo @jennjenn615 @leiandcharles  (want to be tagged? let me know and I’ll do it)

on Tumblr: I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX

ao3 ff.net

A/N:  This chapter falls on the short side and it might give the feeling of a filler, but it’s more like a transitional one. There was a huge time jump in the season that the show never addressed, so I’m trying to make up for it the best I can :) (think of it as the end of 1A before 1B begins-)

Chapter X

“What in the blazes are you doing here, August?”

“Killian Jones… of all the places in the world we could have run into each other…” August trailed off, and it was as if he wasn’t even shocked to find Killian there. It made Killian’s skin crawl and all his senses went on full mode alert. A big part of him wanted to tower over August and unleash the feelings he’d been harboring over a decade, allowing himself to finally let out his frustrations about the events that led him to be separated from Emma.

But right now, with Henry standing beside him, was not the time. He was not the same man he’d been a decade ago. He was not even the same man he’d been a few months ago. Revenge was no longer a priority in his life. His ten year old son was.

“You know what August? Save it for another night. Now is not the time.”

“Killian wait!”

Killian didn’t even stay to listen to August explanations, tugging his son by his sleeve, his only concern at that moment keeping Henry away from the man. He’d have time to track him down later and demand what the bloody hell he was doing in town.

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best interview 10/10

Brother of a Preacher, ch.10 (10/10)

Modern AU:

Emma moves to Storybrooke, Ohio with her son Henry to try to start a new life after her previous one fell apart. She wasn’t ready for life in a small town. The lovely residents. The welcoming preacher and his family. And most importantly, the sinful brother of the preacher.  
Rating: S for Sinful

This is it… the final installment on this verse

A huge thank you to @spartanguard for the banner and @zengoalie and @amagicalship for their beta. This fic wouldn’t happen without them!

A/N: this is still a gift for the lovely @brooke-to-broch and please accept this epilogue as a belated birthday gift for this year! 

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9

Ao3    FF

Chapter X

(The only one who could ever reach me)
He was the sweet-talkin’ brother of a preacher man

A few months later

The summer was bleeding out, only a few weeks left before school started again. The weather had been slightly chilly, the summer breeze feeling stronger in the evenings. But it was nice that day, the perfect temperature for a barbeque in the backyard to celebrate a housewarming.

In reality, there had already been a housewarming. Emma and Henry had moved out of the farm and into a little cottage with a front and a backyard on the outskirts of the town at the beginning of the summer. Killian had helped moved their belongings into the house, stealing kisses from Emma whenever he could and making innuendo-laced comments about how she could pay him later with certain attentions. His goofy smile and waggling eyebrows had been so over the top that Emma had burst out laughing before she stole a quick kiss from him and sent him on his merry way to assembly Henry’s new desk.

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It Was Always You Ch. 10/10

This is it, ladies and gentlemen!  The end!  It’s been such a wonderful ride with all of you and I would just like to say thank you so much for your support of this story and my writing in general.  It means more to me than I could ever express.

Clarke rocketed to her feet, pointing angrily at him.  “You dirty rotten cheater!  I can’t believe you!”
“And no,” he said calmly, “I don’t have any eight’s.”
Clarke gaped.  “I don’t believe it,” she repeated, sitting down and taking a shot.
“You know, princess,” he said after a pause, still considering his own cards.  “You’re pretty hot when you’re angry.”

Read it on AO3.
Find the playlist here.
All the previous chapters are in this tag.

Clarke woke up staring at a piece of her own artwork, hung on a familiar wall, but in a bed that wasn’t hers.

Her mind was still heavy with sleep and something else.

Hungover? her brain supplied.

It hurt too much to think about.  She groaned and buried her head in her pillow, the cotton was soft against her cheek and it smelled like her detergent.

Her eyes flew open again.

Familiar-ish room.  Her art on the wall.  Pillow smelled like her detergent.

This isn’t happening, she told herself sternly.  You’re dreaming.  It’s not real.

She stared at the wall, painted the soft powder blue that it had taken her an hour standing in front of the paint display in Home Depot to pick out.  And it would have been longer if Raven hadn’t threatened to walk over to the lumber section and bring back a two-by-four to hit her in the head with.

Wake up, Clarke, she thought.  Wake up.

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Yellow Diamonds in the Light - Complete (Ch.10/10)

Klaine, 2300 words this chapter/33k total, A03
Dystopian future AU.
Read from the beginning here.

Summary:  When political extremists come to power, racism, homophobia, and hatred become accepted as part of day to day life.  This is the climate that Blaine and Kurt are forced to grow up in.  A dystopian future AU.

Tw for minor character death (not Kurt or Blaine) and violence (ch. 1), racism, homophobia, hate, extremist right-wing politics, xenophobia.

**********

For their one-year wedding anniversary, they decide on a romantic dinner at one of their favorite cozy restaurants.  They had toyed with eating in, just the two of them, but in the end the symbolism of going out together, as husbands, to publicly celebrate their legal, government-approved union, won out.  Especially when Kurt promised to make Blaine breakfast in bed the next day.

The move to Toronto had gone relatively smoothly, all things considered.  The night before the actual trip Kurt had thought he might have to drug Blaine to get him to relax enough to go to sleep, he was so nervous about going through Customs the next day.  But his paperwork was accepted with nothing more dangerous than a sneer and a scoff, and then they were through, out of the U.S. and into a country where having immigrant parents wasn’t a crime, and being able to love who you wish was taken for granted.

To say they like living in Toronto doesn’t even begin to cover it.  As far as Kurt is concerned, no place could possibly be more fabulous.  His high-end woodworking business is growing steadily, with assistance from Gita’s far-reaching contacts, and a collaborative partnership with one of the artists in Toronto he had corresponded with previously.  

Blaine takes to their new life like a fish to water.  It’s as if he has emerged from the restrictive cocoon of fear that surrounded him when they lived in the states, and is now an entirely new being.  He’s joyful, and creative, and full of an energy that is giddy and contagious.  Of course, he’s not completely different – he still loves Kurt endlessly, and now with a reckless abandon that makes Kurt feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

Kurt wonders, sometimes, why they didn’t leave the U.S. sooner.  He asks his dad during one of their weekly Skype calls.

“It crossed my mind,” Burt says, “back when we left town to go stay with Trudy, when you guys were young.  But at some level, I guess I really couldn’t believe that our country had turned into this horrible place.  Even after everything I had seen, with Trump, and the Citizens movement, and all the hate.  I thought this was a good country – we already fought for civil rights, and freedom, and democracy.  I guess I just kept hoping things would turn around.”  Burt looks down, rubs his face with his hand.  “I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner.”

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The Rembrandt Files, Ch 10 (10/?)

Fic tag: It will also include notes on the fic and music and lyrics inspiration :)

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9

Read it also on Ao3 or FF

Summary: Modern Art AU.  Killian Jones is a highly respected museum curator that focuses mainly on XIX century art. Emma Swan is a rising contemporary artist fiercely protective of her work. When Killian gets assigned to curate Emma’s first solo exhibition, things don’t necessarily start well but soon they will discover there is much to learn in art. And love.  

I want to thank jessbecauseiam for being an incredibly beta and startswithhopefor helping me flesh out this idea in the first place and encouraging me to write it!  And spartanguard for the banner!

Chapter 10: Charcoal

Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am home again
Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am whole again
Lovesong, The Cure

Emma sat on the floor in the middle of her studio, looking at the vacant space where her latest pieces used to be. She’d sent them that morning to the museum, not daring to write up a note to Killian. There was nothing to say. Soon it would all be over, the exhibition would be ready and she’d avoid him as much as possible during the opening. And after that she’d never have to see him again.

The bang of the door pulled Emma out of the somber thoughts she’d been immersed for the past few days. She turned around to see Mary Margaret coming in, carrying a paper bag, a couple of Styrofoam cups and a resolved stare.

“You’re going to tell me everything.” Mary Margaret said firmly as a greeting, dropping herself on the floor next to her.

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