#how does Angie wind up in this career I do not know

[thelastspeecher]

okay hear me out

Stangie AU

where

they are both WWE wrestlers

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 71

~*~Emma~*~

For the rest of the trip, we relaxed listening to music. Before Sebastian had asked, I’d not thought too much about what I was going to do. Further limiting my time was a given, but I hadn’t thought about what that would look like. Talking about not waking up at “home” with my mom, dad, twin sister, and niece should have bothered me more than it did. That it didn’t, tells me it’s the right decision. One of the side effects of putting up with shit too long is once you decide to stop it’s not that big of a deal. Something inside has been moving in that direction for some time. What Sebastian had said about not sacrificing myself was on target. That I would do what it takes to take care of my sister isn’t in question. It’s been proven.

I texted Angie from the Uber to Sebastian's apartment. We were going to start up at Chelsea and Union Square with Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People. Those were sure thing stores, but not always original. We'd weave our way through Chelsea and into Soho. That shop Seb and I found would be last. We'd stop for lunch when we got hungry.

Angie hopped on the subway and headed to Union Square. It would take her thirty minutes and me fifteen from Sebastian’s place. Plenty of time to relax and watch Sebastian gather what he needed to work on. I saw a script, notebook, and a couple of real books. I think I'd find it fascinating to watch his process, but more importantly this time I wanted him to know I had friends and could amuse myself. I didn't care that he needed work time and I wasn’t going to need something from him for ignoring me. Doing things independent of your partner was important.

I grabbed a bottle of water for my journey and made my way to where Sebastian sat. He moved the items in his lap, making room for me to sit down. He supported my back and rubbed along my leg. "What are you shopping for?"

"Whatever I find." I smiled sneakily, "Especially if find something for Paris, our first date, and our live music fun tonight."

Sebastian’s hand made it to my ass, "When I think of live music I picture short, revealing, sexy."

"I love how you think." I ran my fingers through his hair. "Can I bother you for five minutes?"

"Sure" His eyes held questions.

I pulled his head closer, pressing my lips to his until he caught on and joined in the fun.

Our little mini make out session was going to make me late. Assuming Angie left as soon as we texted, walked straight onto a train, and there were no delays. None of these were likely. She'd forgive my lateness anyway. I looped my crossbody bag over my head, "I'll text if it's anything other than seven."

"Ok." He ran toward the kitchen. "Hang on." I heard a drawer slam before he reversed direction and came back. Sebastian held up a key, the slightest smile appearing on his face, "In case I'm in the shower or something when you come back. You remember the code?"

"Yes." I'd punched it in when we got here less than half an hour ago. He was nervous. I admit I had to focus to keep my hand steady as I took his offering. "I love you."

Sebastian opened the door and gave me a quick kiss as I walked out. "Love you, too."

I was a couple of steps away when I heard my name.

"Emma, put it on your key ring so you don't lose it."

The door closed before I could reply. I guess that eliminates any question if the key was a temporary just in case he was in the shower today sort of thing. What made me smile the most was the lack of conversation. If he'd overthought the decision, he didn't feel the need to talk it through. No discussion about what it meant or didn't mean. He may have been nervous, but he wasn't uncomfortable. I seriously doubt he's in the habit of giving out keys to his place, so nervous but not uncomfortable was good.

Angie was leaning against the building when I walked up. We hugged like we hadn't seen each other in months. "Sorry, I’m late."

"Were you having sex? I'll forgive you if you were having sex."

I grimaced with a shake of my head, "Making out."

My best friend huffed out a breath, "Close enough." She held the door open for me, "I got here like two minutes ago."

Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People were right in a line. We'd hit them in my favorite order. Aritizia was more comfort clothes for me. Their clothes were more staples than fun. But today I found a gorgeous Sicily sweater and cardigan in a soft heathered cashmere. A pair of tie front pants in purple plaid would look awesome for wandering museums. Anthropologie gifted me with a sequined tunic dress for a night out. A simple black midi dress, a grey-blue fringed and a textured cardi, and a long black wrap jacket. Free People had a colorful mini dress, a definite statement Hyacinth dress, and a fun floral dress. Assorted other things went into my bags too. I went a little crazy, but in my defense, I hadn’t been shopping in a long time and my best friend was egging me on. Plus, there was someone to appreciate what I wore. I had all sorts of cute clothes, but dressing for a boyfriend was different. Especially one who liked to look. I knew what he liked and indulged.

Conversation while we shopped was mostly about the shopping. It's good to have a friend who'll not only tell you something makes your ass look fat but also say, "You look amazing but where the fuck are you gonna wear that more than once?"  Part of the fun was trying on horrifying things. Those things you don't understand how they were ever made. We'd mix those in with good stuff and laugh until we cried. We had a long-standing tradition that whoever found the most "exquisite" outfit was treated to lunch. We were pretty even and had pictures for documentation. Today I would be buying lunch.

"We’ve got a table at two. Alissa's going to meet us."

"That'll be fun. Are she and Will coming tonight?"

"I don't think so. They've got a family thing."

I nodded and we headed toward Chelsea, stopping at the Guitar Store for strings and a capo. We had plenty of time so we stopped anywhere else that caught our eyes. Walking was more private and so was our conversation.

"Anything I should know about before I see you tonight with your boyfriend?"

I sighed in relief. Finally. I bumped her hip with mine, "I love him."

Angie put her arm around me, "This is not news, Emma."

We shared a laugh. "I wasn't sure until I was in the cab leaving his place. Georgia solidified it. Sebastian was so good talking me through all their shit. He and Eli have more in common now. They both hate my parents."

"Eli doesn't hate your parents."

I pulled away, looking at her with raised eyebrows and clear disbelief written on my face. "Try again."

Angie spoke through our laughter, "Eli tries not to, but they make it truly hard. I think he'd be more forgiving if you didn't have us and your Seattle family. Eli loves you like a little sister, best friend, and some weird second wife he's never fucked. He’s protective. He and Sebastian are going to have to figure out how to share."

"They'll arm wrestle or something. Then maybe you'll become Sebastian’s little sister, friend, and second girlfriend. Ooo, we could use you to confuse the fans. If we're out and get seen we can trade off and kiss each other’s dates. Set up a different narrative."

"Good idea.

“It'll be more fun for you. I have kissed Eli, but you don't know about Seb."

"I doubt anything will become so severe that making out with Sebastian is the answer." She smiled, "Not that I would mind."

"You would not mind. He's one hell of a good kisser."

She backtracked, "Who said it first? How did it happen."

"He surprised me showing up early from Canada, watched me cleaning up my classroom for a minute, then told me the song I was dancing along to was about sex. I turned around and he had on those ears. He looked so adorable. He looked at me with his mouth and eyes open wide and said, “Fuck, I love you."

Angie slapped her hand on her chest, "He didn't know until right them." She gasped, "He came in wearing those ears to be cute and winds up telling you he loves you. He is adorable.” She glared at me, "And you said it back."

I nodded, “In Romania."

"What's up with learning Romanian?"

I trusted her with everything. "It's his name. He prefers it in Romanian. I've been learning just enough to add it to his name. It has a very nice effect on him.” I remembered the wall and shook myself out of the memory. “Plus it makes him happy.”

"And you’re happy?"

I nodded, "Incredibly. All the reasons we talked about are still going on. He adores me and it's clear by how he treats me. And I love taking care of him." I knew she’d understand what I meant.

"There is nothing better in the world. I'm so happy you have someone. It had been so long I thought you were intentionally keeping everyone away."

“Just waiting for the right one."  I pulled out my key chain. "I do have a new key."

Angie snatched it, "He keyed you!"

"Looks like it."

"Do you worry this is going fast? I mean it is going fast."

"Yes. It is going fast. There is a risk that maybe this time next year we could be married, have three kids, and signing our divorce papers." I barely made it through without laughing.

Angie snorted, "Sign a prenup so you don’t have to pay alimony when his mid-life crisis tanks his career."

"I talked to Trevor about Sebastian. He knows about my parents, Amy, rehab, and how shitty they can be to me, but he doesn't how about what happened." I stopped walking and looked at her. "I'm starting to feel ashamed for not telling him. That's never happened before." Relationship or friendship. It had never happened. I looked at the most recent member of my secret club. "I don't want to."

She understood, "Why?"

"I don't want him to change the way he looks at me."

Angie smiled, "He won't. You don’t know that yet. It's only been a month. When you know, you'll tell him, and he will look at you just the same or better than he does now. It'll be fine."

"How do you know?" It wasn’t a smart assed clap back. I sincerely wanted to know her reasoning.

"Because he feels different to you and about you. You’re both sharing things neither of you share. That’s the glue for your relationship. You’re adding a little more glue, letting it set up, then adding more. It's getting stronger and eventually, you'll both tell the big secrets and it will be like a layer of epoxy around you that will make you near impossible to break.”

"I like that."

"I speak the truth."

We beat Alissa to the restaurant and ordered a pitcher of margaritas. I was still rearranging and shoving bags into bags under the table when she got there. Angie jumped up and they hugged. I took a step closer, but instead of hugging me, Alissa looked at me warily. “Is it ok for me to be here? Angie said it would be.”

I looked at Angie then back to Alissa, “Why wouldn’t it be?” Oh, what the fuck was going on? I just wanted a nice drunken late lunch with friends after a successful shopping expedition then go home and make out some more with my hot boyfriend.

Alissa grimaced, “I’m sorry for saying all that about Sebastian.”

“Oh!” I laughed and put my hand on my chest. Relieved. I pulled her into a hug, “I’m not upset. Between you and Kirk and the shit Eli told him, we had a somewhat uncomfortable, but really good conversation.”

“Good.” We sat down and Alissa kept talking. “I didn’t mean to be negative. It was just strange. How he was acting and the things you were saying. In a good way. It didn’t come out that way.”

Why is she still . . . oh. “Sebastian said something.”

She cringed, “More of a small group WhatsApp with me and Kirk.”

I laughed again. “Sounds fun.” I sort of wish he hadn’t done that, but I understand why he did. In the end, it was a good thing, but they couldn’t know if I would be scared off by their words.

Angie jumped in, “There’s no way Emma didn’t talk that through.”

Alissa didn’t know me well enough yet to know I wouldn’t let the conversation fester. “Especially with us being a thousand miles apart for the next two weeks. Why is that distance makes time seem longer?”

“I don’t know, but it does. Seb was right to be angry. We could have screwed things up. Neither of us realized how important you were to him. He was worried. That’s more like Seb. Kinda. He’s confusing.”

I think I know what she’s going for. It’s very like him to be worried, but not so much calling out a friend about a girlfriend. From what we’ve talked about and what I learned on that post he’s not had a history of defending girlfriends. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. I wasn’t willing to go into that here. I changed the subject. “And then he goes and tells Will to post a picture of us.”

Alissa nodded, “How’d he react to the comment saying he was going to propose?”

Angie started laughing, “She’d say no.”

“I told him not to. He’d need a good reason. Like he’s actually not a citizen and needs a marriage green card. Or maybe health insurance. I have good health insurance.”

That was the end of that and we went on to other topics. Alissa and Will were having dinner with family but would come by Bowery Ballroom if they were done early. Keaton and Eli’s bands were friends and often teamed up to fill a bigger hall and split the money. They usually made more that way than in one of the smaller halls. Both did a full set and even though Keaton was the bigger name they would trade off who opened. Tonight was Eli’s turn.

We split up outside the restaurant. Alissa going back home and Angie and I heading to the boutique by Sebastian’s.  It wasn’t a horrible walk, but we had a lot of bags. In the cab, Angie gave me a look. One I could read perfectly. She wanted to know what I’d avoided at lunch. I like Alissa and I’d say we’re friends. She’s also married to one of Sebastian’s best friends. I didn’t know what the line was. Not for Sebastian. He’d tell me to do what I wanted. The line was mine. Will and Alissa were still enough strangers to me that I wasn’t comfortable with too much information flow between all of us. I wouldn’t think anything of it with Angie and Eli and I was confident that given some more time it would be the same with Will and Alissa. Also, I didn’t know how intimate of conversations Sebastian had with his friends. I’d need to be around more to know.  

I’d told Angie about our conversation after the party. In general. With what Alissa had said I went into a little more detail, filled in holes, and answered questions. I watched her thinking. I knew what was coming and was glad for it. “Are you worried? I’d be worried. Maybe not worried. Concerned. It’s like being a rebound. You’re the first after something else, only the something else is personal growth. You don’t know if he’s going to go back. You know what I mean?”

I did. “If he wasn’t so forthcoming with talking about it, I would be concerned. He’s laid it all out there. What he’s done, not done, feels bad about. He doesn’t act like that with me. If he starts too, I’ll know what's going on.” I told her about the conversation on the deck where he did want to shut down and how we got through it. “Struggling with change doesn’t bother me. All the girlfriend stuff.” I shook my head and shrugged. “We’re going to have to figure out what both of us are good with. I think I’m going to be able to not get sucked into comments or let them get to me, but I don’t know for sure. I know private is ok, but I’m not ok with being denied. I’d feel like a dirty little secret. I could change my mind. Could be next week. No idea.”

Angie took my hand, “I still get hate from Eli’s fans. We had to figure out how to deal. You guys will too. The rest, I think you’re right. If he’d gotten pissy and refused to talk about what Alissa and Kirk had said it would be a problem. Everybody gets a chance to do things differently. I don’t for one second think you’re going in blind or overlooking things because you want a boyfriend. You’d walk away if he wasn’t treating you right.” She got the look she gets when she’s about to tell me something I don’t like. I know that look, because I have the same one. “I’m one hundred percent not saying now. Way too soon. You’re already started to feel ashamed and that’s not going to get better. Might not get worse, but it’s not going to get better. You are the bravest person I know. Don’t let being afraid of your past ruin your future.”

[branlovestowrite]

The Decoy Groom (3/5): A CS Fanfic

Hello lovely friends! I am sorry for the two week hiatus for this story, but life got in the way. I am happy to bring  A new update today. Hope you enjoy!

This is my CS AU loosely (very loosely) based on the movie The Decoy Bride (starring Kelly MacDonald and David Tennant; it’s super cute and highly recommended). Brennan Jones is in this story, and, as it’s a no-magic AU, Tim Omundson will be playing that role.

Title: The Decoy Groom

Rating: M It’s E now. I stumbled and fell into some smut, and there will likely be more.

Summary: After a failed turn as a musician in Los Angeles, Killian Jones has returned to his home: Storybrooke Island, a remote, tiny island off the coast of Maine. Emma Swan is a famous actress that just wants one day out of the spotlight so she can get married. Storybrooke Island, just two miles long and accessible only by ferry, seems like the answer to her prayers. But will she really be able to keep her nuptials a private affair? And can Killian find the solace he craves when there’s a world-famous actress in town?

Need to catch up? Ch1 Ch2 Also on AO3

“What the hell are you doing?” Killian asked as he stared down at Emma blocking the door. “Let me out of here, now!”

“Lower your voice!” Emma hissed. “Glass needs to think that you’re Walsh, and he never will if he hears your accent.”

“Sidney Glass just fell through an ancient window!” Killian whispered in response. “I’m sure he’s bloody and bruised all over. The last thing he’s going to think about is some damn story. Now let me through so I can help the man! I’m the only person here who knows where to go for medical care. It’s not like we have a hospital on the island!”

“No!” Emma stomped her foot and held firm. “You’re not going anywhere until we get an all clear from Elsa. You don’t know Sidney Glass like I do. His eyes and ears are always open. If he even gets wind of something fishy going on, he’s going to publish it!”

“Something fishy is going on! We’re trapped in a broom closet while a man could be bleeding out.”

“He expects me to hide when he’s around. This is normal to him.”

“Well it’s not bloody normal to me. Now, stop being a coward and move!”

“Coward? Did you just call me a coward?” Emma stepped back as far as she could and leveled him with a deadly glare. “How dare you?! I’m not a fucking coward! I have been hounded by the press my entire adult life! My personal freedoms are of no consequence to those vultures. The very fact that Sidney is here proves that!”

“Have you ever thought that you bring it upon yourself? By hiding and overreacting you make yourself a bigger target. They want to keep coming after you because they know they’ll always get a story.”

“What the fuck do you know about it? You’re a thirty something loser who lives with his father because he never bothered to get a real career. For all I know, you’re the one that called Glass in the first place!”

“You call me a loser and you insult my honor? You have some nerve, Emma Swan.”

Emma pursed her lips as she looked at him. “Well, then it’s a good thing we’re not actually getting married, considering how combative we are.”

“I wouldn’t want to be married to the likes of you anyway.”

“Nor I.”

“Good.”

“Yes, good.”

Then we’re agreed?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly the door cracked open. Emma turned Killian quickly so that his back was to the opening, pressing his body close into hers. He was overwhelmed by her scent, a soft, floral perfume that reminded him of the gardenias Angie used to grow. The swell of her breast pushed into him as his hands fell down to automatically grab onto her hips. He noted how well her body fit against his own. She looked up at him, her soft pink lips parted, and, as he got his first good look at her since that morning, his breath was taken away at how beautiful she was. He was about to lean down and capture her mouth with his own when Elsa cleared her throat.

“Hey guys,” Elsa said, “Do you want to get out of this closet?”

Emma pushed gently on his chest and Killian stepped back, still in a daze. Their eyes were locked on one another as he stepped to the side to allow her to exit first. “Thanks El,” she said, stealing one more glance at Killian before stepping out into the side of chancel. Killian followed her, peeking around the wall to see Sidney sitting in a pew, his cuts being tended to by Dr. Whale, the physician that made house calls on the island. Sidney looked up for a brief second before Killian darted back around the corner and flattened himself against the wall.

“Glass saw me.”

“What?!” Emma hissed, her voice so low as to be almost inaudible.

“I wanted to see if he was being taken care of. I just peeked around the wall…”

“Walsh! Walsh Ozman!” Sidney called out, clearly not deterred by his injuries. “How does it feel to be a married man? Any comments to share?”

“Shit shit shit shit!” Emma whispered as she bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Be calm,” Elsa said. “Sidney called him Walsh, which means the plan worked. Let’s just get you two out of here. I’ll deal with him.”

Elsa led them down a hall the led off from the Chancel in the opposite direction of the sanctuary. It was not a long journey, and the end of the hall led to a single window, slightly more modern, with the ability to open and close, but no exit doors to speak of. Emma looked back down the hall and sighed forlornly.

“We’re trapped.”

“Just… stay here,” Elsa said, her voice firm. “I’ll get rid of Sidney and let you know when the coast is clear. At least this is more spacious than the closet, right?”

Emma nodded her assent, slumping against the wall while Elsa took off back the way they came.

Killian was still cross with her for the way she’d spoken to him, but, as they stood there, he became more sympathetic to her plight. This Glass man certainly was ruthless.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, he chimed in with “Mr. Hopper was nice, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Emma replied. “That was my first time meeting him.”

“This morning? When we were getting ready?”

“No, at the ceremony. But I’d spoken to him before, and he sent me the paperwork for the license beforehand, so I’d already gotten some sense of him. He seems trustworthy, though that didn’t stop Elsa from getting him to sign an ironclad NDA.”

“He came by the room while Elsa was fitting me for the suit. Had me fill out some paperwork.”

“Wait, what?” Emma asked, her head popping up. “What paperwork?”

“It was just some basic demographic information. Where I live, where I was born, who my parents are. That sort of thing.”

“And you just filled it out, without questioning it?”

“I… just… yes. Why does it matter?”

Emma hung her head again and pinched her forehead. “I can’t fucking believe this!” she hissed. “You dumb son of a bitch!”

“More name calling? Is it my turn to call you an entitled bitch yet?” Killian bit back.

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Emma yelled, before lowering her own volume as she continued. “You are a dumbass because the paperwork you filled out was for the fucking license! If Hopper files that, then we’ll be legally married!”

__________________________________

Emma watched Killian’s face fall as he took in her words.

“Bloody hell,” he finally said. “We need to find Hopper and stop him from filing!” He turned to run down the hall before Emma grabbed the collar of his shirt and held him back.

“Stop! Sidney can’t see your face, remember?”

“As long as I’m not with you, how will he know I’m not just a friend of the groom?”

“Because that’s a one-of-a-kind suit you’re wearing. And there were no other men dressed like you during the ceremony. Sidney will figure it out. That’s what he does. You can’t risk him seeing you. I won’t let you!”

He stood and watched her for a minute before turning to look at the end of the hall they stood in. “Then I’ll go another way. Run home, change clothes, and come back. I can do that in ten, fifteen minutes tops.” He moved to the window and cracked open the latch. It took some effort, but he was able to lift it. A rusted screen stood on the other side, but he easily removed it and began climbing out.

“Hey. Wait!” Emma called as she ran to his side. He hung with one leg out the window, looking down. The church was built on a hill, so even though the window was technically on the first floor, they were looking down at a nearly ten foot drop.

Even though she’d been berating him the moment before, she was genuinely concerned for his safety. “Don’t make this jump. You could get hurt!”

“I’ll be fine, love. Islanders are made of more hearty stuff.” She watched as he swung his other leg over and plummeted to the ground. He landed awkwardly, ruining Walsh’s beautiful suit with dirt and mud, but seemed to be okay. He looked up at her and waved shortly before turning to walk away.

Emma stared out the window, inexplicably feeling as bereft as she had the night before when Walsh left. Why did she seem to have such a strong connection to Killian?

She watched him walk away for a bit longer before she heard an unmistakable voice at the other end of the hall.

“Emma!” Sidney said. She heard Elsa hot on his heels, trying to restrain the man, but he was putting up quite a fight, even in his weakened state. Emma looked over her shoulder briefly, panicked, and made an immediate decision. She climbed onto the window ledge, staring at the ground as she chanted to herself “don’t hesitate, just jump.” She took a deep breath, and leapt down to the ground.

__________________________________

Killian heard a thud and a cry from behind him and turned to see Emma struggling to stand up in the muddy patch of ground at the base of the window. Briefly, he enjoyed the sight of the woman in trouble, after the things she’d said to him, but his sense of honor quickly overrode those thoughts. He ran back to her and helped her stand up. The beautiful dress she’d had on was ruined, but otherwise she seemed unharmed.

“Glass found the hall,” she said immediately upon seeing him. She shivered in the chilly air.

Killian understood the urgency and pulled her to the side, flat against the building. “My father’s house isn’t far. Let’s get there and I can get you some dry clothes and then we can contact Elsa and figure out what to do next.”

“Okay,” she replied.

They hadn’t gone two steps before Killian turned back to her. “Take off your shoes.”

“What? No! I’m not running around barefoot!” She stood defiant for a moment, attempting to hold her ground, until it began to literally sink under her. “Okay, fine,” she conceded, reaching down to remove them.

Once they were able to move unimpeded, Killian led the way. They took a meandering path through a few thickets of trees. At times he had to carry her over especially thorny patches of ground, the irony not lost on him that he was carrying her bridal style.

They finally reached the house, after walking for twice as long as he normally would, just to avoid being followed. Killian opened the door and called out “Dad?”

There was no answer. Brennan always had some sort of background noise, from the TV or radio, so the silent house ensured Killian that his father was absent.

“Is he here?” Emma whispered.

“No, he’s out. Probably finally paying Granny an overdue visit.”

Killian led her up to his room, providing towels, a t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. He procured a fresh pair of jeans and shirt for himself and then ducked into his dad’s room to change. He changed quickly and then stood awkwardly in the hall, waiting for Emma to finish.

The door cracked open a moment later, but he saw she was still wearing the muddy wedding gown. She sheepishly looked up at him. “I need help with the buttons.”

Killian stepped into the room and sidled up to her. They held eye contact for a long moment before she turned, presenting her back. Tentatively, he began to unfasten the buttons.

Even with the added scent of earth, she still smelled amazing. He couldn’t help but graze her creamy skin with the backs of his fingers as he carefully opened the dress. Feeling brave, Killian stepped closer, leaning in so that his breath tickled to space between her neck and shoulder. Emma’s breath hitched in response. She swallowed deeply and turned her head slightly. He could see she was biting her lower lip. He felt an immediate urge to nibble it himself.

When all the buttons were done, he allowed his hands to drift back to her hips, recalling when they’d been in a similar position in the closet. “Thank you,” she finally said to break the tension, her voice so low as to be almost inaudible.

“Glad to be of service, love,” he whispered back, not moving for fear of breaking the spell.

They stayed like that for long moments, neither one willing to move to and tip the scales one way or the other.

“Killian?” she finally said, still whispering.

“Yes, love?”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

“Me too.”

They were quiet again. After another few minutes, Emma once again broke the silence.

“Killian?”

“Yes?”

“Will you kiss me?”

He exhaled a heavy breath. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She turned, threading her arms around his neck a second before he fell on her, attacking her mouth with his own. His hands traveled up from her hips to again touch her bare back, tracing featherlight touches over her spine. Emma moaned softly, spurning him on, and he felt a sudden urge to taste her in every way possible. He captured her lower lip between his own, giving it the nibble he’d been aching for earlier. When she gasped in response, he took the opportunity to glide his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her own. She surprised him then by grazing her teeth along it before softly sucking on his upper lip. He groaned in response as he felt himself harden.

__________________________________

Killian’s groan was delicious, and Emma decided then she’d do anything to make it happen again. She released his neck so she could slide off the delicate lace sleeves of her dress before stepping out of the gown and kicking it to the side. He stepped back, taking her in. Emma was sure she presented quite the picture. She wore a low-backed corset with garters at the bottom, connected to silken thigh-high stockings. The only scrap of clothing she wore over her sex was a flimsy thong which had shifted during their trek so that it now rubbed against her clit, giving just enough pressure to tease but not satisfy.

Killian huffed out a heavy sigh as his hot gaze traced her curves. “Emma, love… I need to leave this room before I lose control.”

“Maybe I want you to lose control,” she cooed in response as she reached down to unfasten her garters. After the emotional roller coaster she’d been on for the last 18 hours, it felt good to seduce a man. She felt in control, and it didn’t hurt that Killian was gorgeous. She looked up at him through her lashes while midway through her task, completely aware of how she looked with her arms pressed against the sides of the corset, fully displaying her cleavage. Once finished, she pushed the hosiery down, removing the muddy garments.

“I could really use a shower,” she moaned, stretching her arms over her head. She reached behind herself and unhooked the corset, letting it fall to the floor. She met his eyes in a challenging gaze as she stood before him wearing nothing but her thong. “Would you care to join me?”

“You’re a minx,” Killian muttered in response, trying and failing to look anywhere but her breasts. But then her nipples tightened in the cold air, drawing his gaze like magnets. “Emma… this isn’t a good idea.”

“I see the way you look at me, Killian. I know you can make me feel good. I’ve been feeling so down. Don’t I deserve to feel good now? Can you do that for me?” Okay, she knew she was laying it on thick, but Emma was fully committed to chasing her high now. She wasn’t going to give in so easily.

He looked pained in response. His erection was straining against his jeans and he looked so conflicted that she almost took pity on him. Almost. Deciding to try one last play, she turned around, reaching for the strings of her thong and sliding them over her hips and ass. Emma knew she had a good ass. She worked hard in the gym to achieve it. She bent at the waist as the thong traveled down her legs. After lingering for a moment with no response, she slowly started to stand, beginning to consider giving up her ploy. Just as she had decided it was a lost cause, she felt his hands land on her hips.

Bingo.

Killian’s hands kneaded the flesh, his breath short and uneven. He slid one palm over the firm cheeks, his fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “You bloody tease,” he growled.

Emma tried to stand, but his other hand slid up her back, staying her movement. “Not so fast, love. I’m still admiring the view.”

She flushed in response, glad he couldn’t see her face. Instead, she wiggled her hips. “You’re being the tease,” she replied. “Are you going to give me what I want?”

His palm lifted in response before landing with a thwack on the meat of her ass. She moaned in response. It had been years since anyone had been rough with her in bed, and she’d forgotten how much she liked it. “I’m not going to give you what you want.” Another thwack as he struck the other cheek. “I’m going to give you what you need.”

There was no time to respond, as his hand immediately snaked between her legs to rub at her aching clit. Emma keened at the touch. He hauled her upper body to standing, her back to his chest as he repositioned his hand and continued his assault. His other hand sought out a nipple, pinching and twisting.

“Is this what you want?” he groaned in her ear. “Is this what you were trying to get me to do, you siren?” He dipped his fingers into her channel before dragging some wetness up and increasing the pressure on her bundle of nerves.

Emma moaned and leaned her head back on his shoulder. “Oh god…”

“Just Killian, love. And you didn’t answer me. I’m not going to let you come until you do.” She whined in response, but he continued unperturbed. “Tell me, Emma. Were you trying to seduce me?”

“Yesssss…” she hissed as he slipped his fingers inside her, continuing to rub her clit with his thumb. “Oh, Killian, more please. That feels so damn good…”

“That’s the idea, love.” he suddenly released her, stepping back so that she felt empty without his body pressed into hers. She turned and looked at him. His eyes were nearly feral, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his erection was so hard it tented the front of his pants. “Look at what you do to me, Swan.”

She gave him a tiny nod as she took him in. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him, unzipping his pants.

__________________________________

Killian gaped in disbelief as Emma made quick work of his jeans and boxers, until his firm cock stood proudly between them. She wasted no time before trailing her tongue up the length of him. She gently sucked on the tip, and his head rolled back. He wrestled with the urge to let her keep going before finally making up his mind. He reached down and gently shoved on her shoulders.

She met his gaze questiongly, and he hurried to reassure her. “I believe it is I who was to make you feel good. And I intend to make good on that promise. On the bed, now.”

Emma’s smile turned sultry as she stood and sat on the bed, her legs dangling from the end. Killian silently thanked Angie for having the foresight to replace the twin XL from his youth with a queen-size mattress. He could only imagine how awkward this would be in his former bed.

He stepped over to her and pressed down on her shoulders, encouraging her to lie back, before sinking to his knees. Spreading her legs wide, he leaned in and licked a stripe from her hot center to her clit. She tasted incredible, and his eyes rolled back in ecstacy. He focused on his task, tracing the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue while he slipped one, then two fingers into her channel.

“Killian! More of that!” Emma cried as he sucked on her clit. He continued his assault, sucking and licking and pumping, using his other hand to hold her writhing hips still.

“Oh god… I’m gonna come!” Emma called out, her back bowing of the bed while her hands plunged through his hair. “Oh… oh…” she squealed twice before finally crying out as she came all over his tongue. “KILLIAN!!” He continued to lap at her sweetness until she shoved him away with her heel.

Emma leaned up on her elbows, looking at him as he continued to kneel between her legs. They were both panting for breath, neither sure what to say. Killian’s own erection lay heavy between his thighs, but he didn’t want to move from this spot. Emma Swan was a goddess, and he wanted to continue worshipping her.

A knock on his bedroom door suddenly broke the tension. “Killian?” A voice asked, turning the handle. “Are you in here?”

Killian recognized the speaker as Ruby and leapt to his feet, running to the door to block her entry. Emma jumped up from the bed, grabbing the clothes he gave her, and enclosed herself in the closet.

“Ruby,” Killian asked from behind the closed door. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dad is down at the diner visiting Granny, so I thought this was a good time to come see you.” Her voice clearly demonstrated her ire, rising in pitch as she continued to talk. “I wanted to talk more about our discussion yesterday. See if we could make something work. But it seems like you’ve already gone and found someone else!”

“Ruby, wait, let me explain…”

“Explain what?!” Ruby shocked him by throwing all her weight against the door, forcing it open and shoving him backward. She stared incredulously at the pants hovering around his knees. “Who is she?! Who the hell could you have found so fast on a two-mile long island?!”

Killian hurriedly pulled up his jeans, but before he could reply, the closet door burst open with Emma wearing the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d provided her before their interlude began.

“She was under the impression he was single!” Emma cried, her fire exceeding Ruby’s. She turned to Killian and lifted a hand, striking him across the cheek. “How dare you! You know I was left just last night by a man who was cheating on me! And you have the audacity to cheat on your girlfriend with me? You disgust me, Killian Jones!”

She made to push past him, but he held out a hand to stop her. “Emma, wait. She’s not my-”

“Oh save your fucking excuses! I don’t want to hear them!” She stormed out of the room, running down the stairs and out of the house before he could gather his wits. He turned on Ruby.

“What the bloody hell was that?!”

Ruby, in all her 21-year old wisdom, seemed thoroughly convinced she was in the right. “You have no right to talk to me that way! You lied to me!”

“I did no such thing!”

“Yes you did!” Her voice choked up as her eyes filled with tears. “You told me that you weren’t ready for a relationship! And then I come over here to find you doing… whatever you were just doing with her. What could she possibly offer you that I couldn’t?”

Killian softened, recognizing some of himself in the beautiful young woman standing before him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair in a brotherly gesture. “Ruby, love, this is not about you. You are a brilliant, gorgeous, enticing woman that anyone would be lucky to have. I should have been more forthright with you yesterday. I can’t do anything of that sort with you. I will always think of you as a little sister.”

Ruby sighed heavily in response. “Dammit, I wish you would have just said that to me yesterday.”

“You and me both, darling.”

“I suppose you should go after her. Want me to come, explain things?”

“No, but stay close in case I change my mind.”

“Who was she, anyway?”

“Would you believe me if I said Emma Swan?”

Ruby pulled back and gaped at him. “Emma Swan? Really? You were just going down on Emma Swan? You lucky dog you!”

“It’s a long story, but…” he trailed off. “Wait, why do you think I was going down on her?”

She grinned slyly. “Your face smells like pussy. Better wash it before you go find her.”

Killian grimaced. “Aye, that I will.” He turned to the door, intent on doing just that, when Ruby spoke up again.

“I guess that explains why there were all those reporters hanging around the church!”

He turned slowly to look upon her once more. “Reporters? As in multiple?”

“Yeah, there were at least 50 of them.”

“Bloody hell.”

@artistic-writer @bubblegum1425 @captainkillianswanjones  @fairytaleprincessatlast @flslp87 @gingerchangeling@hollyethecurious @hookswan25 @initiala @jonirobinson64 @kday426 @kingofmyheart14 @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @laschatzi @nerdyhuntress @nikkiemms @objectsatsleepstayatsleep @princesseslikepirates @resident-of-storybrooke @searchingwardrobes @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @snowbellewells @teamhook @thejacketandthehook @thejollyroger-writer @thislassishooked @welllpthisishappening @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @wingedlioness @withheartfulloflove @wyntereyez

[sunnedberry]

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movie they were actually in the movie after that was dealt with actually played themselves 11 movies fighting apples he was an 11 movies that’s crazy right I just looked it up 11 movies he did at least 11 they said I think they’re talking all of the seven movies for real it is 11 because they added a few that were documentaries can count those was a seven movies still has a lot of movies she looked like JR she looks similar to jaded I like a girl played Angie Martinez on but that Lewis lost Tupac mom had was on LT Hutton showed talked as sure as a confusing thing but it’s none of our business at this point in our main Pok was in the budget he did I get a lot of trouble but he was also a martyr man because he made easier for rappers to come out today you knowand do is say whatever they wanted was a lot of restrictions back in the day against rappers I mean if you I don’t I didn’t really understand that I was too young like I was super super young back then but you know if you watch footage on YouTube you’ll see that you it was very hard for rappers back then 64 faith know about that bro they made snoop look like a little patient yes to this new character was kinda bad I didn’t like that character in the movie he was in the movie nothing but trouble all he was in the movie nothing but trouble okay I checked out one at a heavier Torres Benny bones a good director two live crew new movie I agree I want to see a death row movie I’ll be sick to made a list in the movie Julia I was sick using the movie to blue da Vinci was in the yard blue da Vinci was I in the jail play character in the jail with’s new voice yes just lights new bright like it is to find his voice to the movie Ike is 70 is crazy is it true they dubs new voiceover they had to man because in the you write toand sounded just like they had to dove his voice in the movie Jonathan PMI appreciated mass I appreciate it bro two short intervals are yeah can’t wait to watch this weekand wanted pastor got to watch the movie gotta watch the movie this weekand guys it’s good Jonathan PM said salute JT keep pushing forwardand putting a consistent quality content doing your own thing no matter what obstacles to hold you down I appreciate that Johnand I appreciate you pushing forward as I know you be going through a lot tooand I appreciate you still tuning inand donating when you can your amazing broad percent activity outside Jay Z dazzlingand have to have a movie I make my miscast done so much man not his cannot have a movie I want Jasper stopped on the rated the dark on completely in the dark just looks dark Rockefeller need a movie night average as soon they done 500 600 block six Jasper if you don’t stop for Dakota G unit out of G unit needs move area 50 movie so your honest opinion movie was good it was good it was an amazingand it wasn’t bad I would say I want to can it was seven I given a seven Wu Tang Clan definitely needs a movie Mike Powell Carlos Corey shattered a few niche occur for 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3 ounce paint on this but rains pretty easily on this bike without much concernand on the same position isn’t overly harsh over like a Awesome Rap Legends Ain’t Nothin’ But A Christmas Party Ugly shirt lot of more performance focused bikes are great like this yellow strain on your ear resting on the restraining arrested upright not present a problem on the neonatal have when production I you really forward into the wind just a little bitand so that does mean that they don’t feel like you’re cussing holding onto the bars 70 or 80 miles an hour just to stay onand that Questar areas windshields available for the bikes so you a lot highway writing speed there’s a way to set I personally thought this bike anyone the first things I would do is probably an exhaustand intake I think that’s a precognitive evil to say that on this bike the character the engine in stock form is a little too sedate for the capabilities of the chassis when he met is that I think this chassis would really benefit from a lot of more rambunctious more red hot motorand there’s many ways to do that with the sportster Odyssey I usually like the hoteland build celebrity SR 1200 had in this chassis that motor be a really good fit personality wise for the chassis is now everything else is been upgraded performance lies like the suspensionand the brakes I think that the bike could really use a little bit extra grunt from the motor little more sound obviously I but also just a little more of a red happy nature so I just need a bike feel that more likely exhaustand intake unitsand goes a long way towards that sustainedand upgrade by a distaste to it some more star focus can so all in all I deathly recommend this for anybody looking for performance focused on I classic style bike I it’s it’s a really good option for that market I knew only hesitation I would have been recommending is if you do a lot highway writing it does have 5 feet is not to buddy out on the highway provided to stay in the low 80 miles an hour you’re trying to fasten I regularly get an ability to decide sustained speed onand then I say it does have a pretty healthy so if you’re just starting out it might not be the best bike to start with as it is I 500 poundsand is quite a policy so if it’s your first bike MS your tall guy or falling out I would recommend potentially starting somewhere else but that that’s just one word of caution it is your first bike view mirrorand mine is a day on the tall side item to see Lisa that Harley in the rest of the motorcycle market is not a particularly called bikes upand I don’t want to scare you away from that but definitely only use it to check one out I sit on itand make sure that you feel like it’s comfortable for you because is one thing that most of the feeling of sportster’ Guys now leave I hear you from the oldest largestand finest leadership in the greater Los Angeles area labor laws Harley Davidson so easily popular model so maybe doing a review etc. Everything I taint over the pain over the course of my career a lot more because nothing was handed to me I just hold that thought for a moment only hear from our sponsorand pain else I know this went mentioned before break time within the greatest earbuds ever been beautiful this week I write make a great on they shot you wireless earbuds right the other copy but these are the real deal I’m telling you you opened up the case is a beautifully bluish tasting a jet yelling next allusions really. I Said I See A Lot Of People Who down like Gannett Feel Attacked by the Fact That They Haven’t Experienced It When They Want to Say My Life Is Hard to Write so I Guess Okay I Have a Conservative Girl Friendand See Not Go from a Girl That Is the Day I Used It As a Way to See the Sea Psych Was like Crying in a Way like Now like You Don’t Understand like We Had Said Sweetlyand I Had to Raise the Sisters We Were Poor We Anything I Had to Live Myself up I Played Sports to Get the Call Is likeand All That One Plane Is Just a Way You Had Opportunities Family Were Had Such a Bad Place Where Our Grandparents Had to Sell 2 Acres of Our Farm That the Teaching Day of Life Are Likely to Verify a Case Was Mostly Foeand a Mule As It Will Mean like I like You Don’t Understand I like like My Friends Are Banks Grandparents May Not Ever Be in a Placeand They Could Do yet See Other related products: Raise Your Hand If You're Tired Of Everything Silhouette Funny T Shirt

[lucya-dthings-blog]

The people behind the yellow door.

I want to tell you a story, a story about some people in a world only a little different from our own, so please read, and enjoy;

Angie is Angry. Both physically and literally, she’s anger personified, that might be a better way to describe it. The effect she had on the people around her was similar to that of a smell wafting through the wind, everyone nearby would smell it and be affected in one way or another. Angie was like that, she made the people around her angry just by being in the near vicinity of them. If someone were to witness a bust up or a shouting match in the middle of the street, they’d probably be shaken up for a while, but not Angie, it was almost a daily occurrence for her. The way the person reacted would depend on their personality if they're aggressively angry, or loudly angry, or calmly angry. You know, the types of people that would sit there and say ‘I’m angry’ whilst they stare at you solemnly. Those are Angie’s favourite because they cause no trouble, and it’s almost as if she doesn’t affect them at all.

However, right now, as she stands over a man who her colleague Ron had just taken to the ground and arrested, she’s angry. She’s angry because he had only been pulled over for speeding, but upon meeting her, he’d gotten angry and now he had been arrested, he should have just paid a fine. She was lucky that Ron was one of those people that were calmly angry because it meant that he could still focus even with the unwanted emotion that had been cast on him.

Angie didn’t know why she made people angry, it’s just the way it seemed to be, she’d made observations and worked out the effect she had, but she hadn’t worked out why. She watched as Ron pulled the man to his feet and opened the door, allowing Ron to sit the man inside, she shut the door and sat in the front seat.  “ Are you alright Ron?” She asked. “I’m a bit angry if I’m honest Angie.” He replied with a  sigh. Ron was 50 something, bald and wore glasses, the back of his neck layered a little over his shirt collar and his stout figure meant he couldn’t run as fast as he used to. He didn’t come out as much as he did in his golden days and spent a lot of time in the office, but he’d join Angie when she did community work. He was still strong, just not as fast anymore.  

“Oh, I see.” Angie turned to look out of the window, it had started to rain and her eyes focused on following the trails that the raindrops had left behind. Angie often wondered why she made people angry, or if she didn’t and actually just found herself working in a career with a lot of angry people. She wasn’t sure.

It was early evening when Angie finally got to leave the station, her large camel coat covered her uniform and she pulled the checkered scarf from around her neck and stuffed it into her pocket. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the bus stop, and then she stopped and waited, leaning against the glass screen because she was tired now, the day was taking its toll on her.

The bus pulled up, she paid the fair, and she sat down, some of the strands of her black curly hair fell over her face as she pulled it out of the tight bun. She put her bag down on the seat beside her so that nobody could sit there, she didn’t want company on this journey home. She shut her tired brown eyes and rested her head against the cold glass of the bus window.

There was another important person on this bus, and by important I mean a key person in this story.

Henry was stood up on the bus, stepping forward and backward to stabilise himself with every jolt of the vehicle. His thick arm stayed above his head as he held onto one of the swinging bus handles. His chunky stature filled up a large space.

Henry was happy, and everyone else seemed to be happy too until the last stop, now they all seemed a mixture of emotions, more so than normal. Henry knew exactly what he was, or who he was. Henry had always known, that’s what he would say anyway, but of course, he didn’t really always know. At 10, after he’d accidentally smashed a window at school with his football and hadn’t gotten in trouble, the other boys he was playing with got shouted at but he just got a few mere harsh words.

He got his job at the amusement park in his early twenties, his reasoning was work somewhere where people are happy, and make them happy, make them primarily happy the entire time they’re at the park, and he’d worked there ever since. It made Henry happy that people were always happy around him, he thought it was a gift, you know, how some people are gifted with humour, others with a beautiful singing voice. It wasn’t until the theme park fortune teller had stared at him with such a look that he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up that he realised it could be more than that, all the fortune teller muttered was;

“You are happy.” She put such emphasis on the word ‘are’ that Henry thought the word 'happy' to be his name rather than his emotional state. The fortune teller had watched Henry leave her tent and she continued to watch him as he walked away through the crowds at the amusement park. She watched him with complete awe in her dark eyes. Henry had avoided her ever since.

Now, Henry’s blue eyes pierced his surroundings, looking around the bus trying to work out who exactly was enhancing another emotion, it should be happiness. He looked around the moving vehicle his eyes trailing over the features of the passengers, some were smiling, some were frowning. Then Henry’s vision landed on a woman who sat alone, she looked tired, not happy nor angry.

Henry thought in that moment that perhaps she was who he was looking for. The most difficult part now was how to introduce her to a world she’d most likely never even thought could exist. It was difficult to start a conversation with someone when you know that what you’re going to say will change their life.

He slowly made his way toward her, his hands grabbing the back of seats and poles as he moved closer to the tired lady who was resting her head against the window. “Excuse me, sorry, can I sit here? My legs aren’t quite what they used to be.” He chuckled softly and the woman smiled, nodded and moved her bag on the floor, allowing him to sit next to her.

Henry twiddled his thumbs waiting for an appropriate moment if there was one.   “So how was your day?” Angie asked, smiling at the stranger beside her, she hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone at all on this journey, but this bald happy man seemed sweet and gentle. Her starting the conversation with Henry almost took him by surprise.

“Hmm? Oh, it was good, I went to the library, read some psychology books on emotion and things like that.” He breathed heavily as he spoke, his voice wheezy from the extra weight he carried on his bones. He hadn’t read books on emotion at the library, he’d actually spent the day at work, but it felt necessary to start the conversation that he so desperately wanted to take place. It didn’t, the conversation didn’t take place naturally, and at the stop before his own Henry found himself blurting it out. He said, as loudly as he could without drawing attention;

“I know how you make other people feel, everyone was happy before you got on the bus and now, well the mood has changed.” His wheezy voice whispered.

“Excuse me? Are you saying I made everybody on this bus mad?” She scowled and stared at him.

“No - well yes but you can’t help it- it’s just the way it is.”

Her scowl got harsher, but then it softened. “If it’s not my fault how do I make people mad? She asked as Henry reached up to press the bell.

“It’s what you are, it’s- it’s like it’s your job, you aren’t alone, me, I’m happy and then my friends they’re all the other emotions.” He stood up from his seat and grabbed the pole to help him stabilise himself.

“Wha- you can’t leave now, I have so many questions to ask you.” She stood up herself, picking up her bags. "I want to know more.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come back for a cup of tea.” He smiled.

The two acquainted strangers climbed off the bus together. Angie had thought that perhaps it was strange of her to go home with someone she barely knew, but the fact that he had answers to all the question she had was reason enough for her to go with him.

“It’s just around the corner,” Henry reassured her, his breathing was shallow and his voice husky from the walking. Angie nodded and held her bag in front of her, kicking it with her legs every time she took a step forward.

“How did you know it was me?” She asked quietly as the pair turned a corner and started walking down the street.

“You were neither happy nor angry.” He smiled. “I thought that it must be you.” He turned and walked up a set of 3 steps towards the house, the lights turned on as he neared and he unlocked the yellow door. “Please, come in.” Henry smiled and held the door open for her.

Angie sat in the kitchen on the wooden chair, her hands wrapped around the steaming cup of tea watching the 4 unfamiliar faces that watched her in return. Henry had gone into the garden to water his roses and so now the strangers and Angie were waiting for his return.

When he did return, he pulled the gardening gloves off of his hands, hung the back door keys on the hook and poured himself a cup of tea. He then sat down and took a sip.

“I suppose I should introduce you all.” He pointed to the only other man in the house. “This is Andy, he’s anxious.”

“Oh about what?”

“No, no he is anxious.”

“Ohhhh I see,” Angie responded, smiling at the man.

Andy smiled back, the sides of his wide green eyes creasing a little as he did so, his dark features would trick you into thinking he was braver and more powerful than he actually was, appearance does that sometimes, tricks you into assuming things without even realising you’re doing it. Andy had spent, and would always spend his life as a nervous wreck, he worried himself senseless over the smallest of things, and that caused others to worries too. That was his reasoning for why everyone was always nervous around him, but obviously, that wasn’t the right reason.

He preferred silence, that’s why he took on the job of exam invigilator during exam season, walking up and down in the silence was bliss to him, but of course he still worried about everything, whether it would be tripping up or needing to sneeze. He didn’t like disrupting things, just in case, he couldn’t deal with the consequences.

When it wasn’t exam season, Andy was an Agony Aunt for a teen magazine, most of the time he wouldn’t know how to answer the questions they asked him in the fear that his answers would ruin their life, so he’d usually say something along the lines of;

‘Hey there (insert name),

It is very normal to worry about things, in fact, I worry about absolutely everything. If I were you I would think up every single possibility that could possibly occur as a result of your problem. After that, I’d just hope for the best I suppose.

Best of luck,                            A :)’

He was pretty close to losing that job when Lou spotted some of his responses in the back of her copy of the magazine.  She’d thought it odd that an Agony Aunt would choose a solution that would resolve in more worrying rather than less so she showed the magazine to Henry, who decided to follow up on ‘A’, just in case.

After much research, Henry found Andy and then, after much persuasion, Andy moved into the house with the yellow door. He felt better knowing that he wasn’t really alone anymore. However he constantly worried about all the people he had made anxious in his lifetime, and for the first 3 weeks, he wouldn’t leave the house, just in case he made some poor soul too nervous. He soon figured out that it was okay to feel nervous, it was up to the people how they responded to it. So really Andy was helping people to learn a lesson and after he realised that. He didn’t feel so bad.  

Now Andy had settled in wonderfully, still anxious, still both an exam invigilator and Agony Aunt, but now he had a home too, a place where he belonged.

“Then this is Su.” Henry continued, pointing to a woman who had her hair wrapped in a pink towel,  a few brown hairs escaping from the wrap, a cardigan covering her scrubs. “She’s a midwife, her shift starts soon.” Henry clarified, whilst Su smiled and stuck her hand out to shake Angie’s. The skin was rough and Angie assumed it had something to do with the fact that her hands were a primary tool in her trade.

“Nice to meet you,” Angie said softly, beginning to get slightly overwhelmed.

“I’m surprised.” Su piped up. “My emotion I mean.” She smiled.

Su was surprising. At least that’s what she was always told, and that’s the way people always seemed when they were around her. Whenever they found out her name, age, job, anything and everything was apparently surprising when it came to Su. When she was at work the parents always seemed surprised when they actually got to see their baby, even though they almost certainly knew the child was coming. It wasn’t just her job that helped her to surprise people, it was her, it was everything she was.

For a long time, she just assumed people underestimated her and that the phrase ‘Oh that’s surprising’ was just a reflection of that. Of course, it wasn’t, it was her effect on the people around her, her presence emphasised how surprised they became. She didn’t find out until she discovered the existence of the others and moved into the house with the yellow door.

The next person in the room was a woman with short hair dressed in a blue sweater. The colour complimented her skin tone and matched her blue socks, which were peeking out from under the ends of the legs of her trousers as she sat on the kitchen counter.  Henry pointed to her and then looked at Angie. “This is Sam, she’s well… sad.” Sam was always sad, and in her world, so was everyone else, smiles and laughter were something only people with great distance from her got to experience. She got a job as a funeral director when she was 23 after she moved into the house with the yellow door. Originally she’d lived down the street in a house with 3 other people.  However, the three people decided to move out, thinking the house had negative energy or something. That left Sam alone and worried about exactly how she’d afford the house. One day Sam sat on the front step and cried, as if by coincidence, although it was obviously fate, Henry walked past after purchasing the weekly newspaper from the corner shop and asked if she was alright. Sam was surprised that he wasn’t sad and Henry was surprised that he hadn’t ever noticed her before.  He sat with her, and she didn’t feel quite so sad, so they talked and to solve her problems she moved into the house with the yellow door. She was the second to move in, after surprised, who was the first.

After discovering the effect she had on people, Sam wasn’t sure what to do with herself. So Henry suggested she get a job, and that’s how Sam ended up as a funeral director. She helped people feel what they were supposed to feel in that moment, and life for Sam wasn’t so bad anymore.

Sam slipped off the counter and looked at Angie for a few moments before giving her a small smile before her head dropped to look at the floor like a wilting rose.

"Then the last person I have to introduce you to is Lou, Lou is lust." Henry pointed to her and smiled.

“Hi.” Lou grinned at Angie

Lou was the youngest, you could tell by the youthful glow of her clear skin and the way she styled her hair into large voluminous curls. However, she was not the most recent newcomer to the clan of the emotionally gifted. She worked in a bar to make her living after moving out of her parent's house, almost immediately after becoming an adult. It had been Sam who had found her there, Sam had walked into the bar and been completely perplexed by the lustful atmosphere of the bar. Now, of course, Sam knew that bars were lustful places, but there was something about this one. It was the fact Sam didn’t feel sad there, and that’s when she knew she had to find exactly who was causing all this behaviour.

So Sam hung around for a while and eventually she caught on that it was the pretty girl behind the bar, so Sam waited, all night until Lou’s shift was over. She didn’t mind too much, Lou’s presence meant her emotional effect wasn't quite as strong.

Lou’s shift ended and she walked towards Sam, Lou was a gutsy character and had noticed Sam watching her since the moment she’d arrived, so obviously, she had to confront her. The pair talked for a few hours, Sam explaining everything to her. Lou didn’t believe a word of it and got up to leave pretty hastily, but not before Sam managed to slip her business card into Lou’s pocket. Sam knew Lou wouldn’t be able to go long without wondering or even figuring it out for herself.

Sure enough, a week later Sam got a phone call from a particularly bewildered and confused Lou. Sam showed her everything, the house with the yellow door, all of the other people and then waited for her response. Lou only smiled, everything that had ever happened, now made sense, and soon, Lou moved in too.

“So Angie are you moving in?” Lou asked her, tilting her head to one side to peer at the pleasant stranger.

“Moving in? Why would I -” She trailed off and looked at Henry

“Well there's a room for you, here, you don’t have to stay here forever, but if you want to stay so that you can learn more tomorrow,” Henry answered, his eyes looked hopeful for her answer.

Angie nodded “I just have one more question.”

“What is it?” Henry asked, he looked at her, both kindly and with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Will it always be like this?”

“Yes.” Henry smiled. “You will always have an effect on people.”

A story like this is a simple one and a pleasant one. However, it is a real story, well not the characters but the story. The way these characters affect others is not as absurd and unrealistic as one might think. Each of you has the same powers as the Henry, Angie, Lou, Sam, Andy, and Su. Admittedly it’s not quite as unusual and exciting as their gifts. However, you can affect everyone by something as simple as a facial expression. You can change someone's mood with a sentence. You can change someone's life with your presence. You as an individual have power and influence to change the minds, hearts, and lives of anyone and everyone around you, but perhaps you just haven’t realised that yet.  You don’t know what is going on in a stranger's life, and you don’t know the effect that you will have. Always think.

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When planning the production of this story I created a survey to help me.

The information I found told me that planning characters can be useful for helping to create depth as the background you have created for them can feed into their characteristics as you write the story. I decided to actually include the backstories in my story because I felt like it created a connection between character and reader. I also decided to do this to prove my point that all people had a life before they met you. There seemed to be some disagreement between the authors and writers on how much of a character should be left to the reader’s imagination. I decided the pick out a few key features of the character and then leave the rest to the reader’s imagination. However, my characters have been painted so room for imagining them yourself may be lost if the mural is seen first. Another piece of advice I received was to make sure I  didn’t describe something every time it was mentioned. So for example when describing the door I Had to make sure not to write ‘yellow door’ every time. These writing tips helped to make my piece more fluent and readable so I am really glad I put the time and effort into making the survey as overall it did help me immensely in the end. 

[blschaos3000-blog]

Its 10:08 am

Welcome to “8 Questions with…..”

  It was the last week of January and someone mentioned that it was almost time for “Women In Horror Month” which happens in February. Feel a bit inspired I quickly tossed out a “interviews wanted” in my faithful casting group and got a very nice group of talented actresses who have worked in horror films who agreed to answer some questions.   Its time to meet our next guest,the very spirited young actress Chelsea Jurkiewicz who is based in Salt Lake City,Utah.  Chelsea has been performing for almost half of her life and she is just getting started. I got a chance to watch her work in the short film “Angie Bleeds” and I can assure you,she has some serious skills for someone so young.   It takes a mature actor to handle sensitive issues in a film,most younger actors tend to go big but I was very impressed with mature Chelsea handled herself.    Now she is having a bit of fun by starring in a new indie horror film,which is my cue to shut up and get out of the way of Chelsea answering her 8 Questions…..

     Please introduce yourself and tell us about your latest project.

    Hi! I’m Chelsea Jurkiewicz. I’m 21 years old, and I was born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah. One of my latest projects is a horror movie called Abigail Haunting, where I play the lead role of Katie. We filmed it in Las Vegas. I got to work with an amazing team of multi-Emmy award winning filmmakers. It’s coming out this Summer, and I can’t wait for everyone to see it! 

What was growing up in your house like? Is your family naturally artistic?

   My family is artistic, but not in the entertainment industry. My mom and grandparents are all great painters. That’s cool, but I was never really interested in that sort of thing. I kind of broke the chain of visual artists when I started acting, singing, and dancing. 

While being only 21 years old,you have been acting for 10 years,how did you get your start?

    Acting is something I’ve always loved doing, even before I knew what it was. As a kid, I was always acting out stories and making up movie titles. When I was 11, I heard about auditions for a live musical. I ended up getting cast in that, and really fell in love with every aspect of performing. I continued doing theatre for a few years. When I was 15, I decided to try film acting. I guess that was always my dream, but I didn’t feel like I was ready to jump into it until then. It was hard to get an agent and all that at first, so I started by doing a lot of background extra work. That worked out really well, because it got me used to being on a film set. Within a year or two, I was able to land an agent and start getting lead roles in short films and small speaking parts in features. In 2018, I got my first leading role in a feature film, playing Renee in The 13th Cross. (That’s coming out soon, folks.) The next year, I landed the role of Victoria Crumb in the movie, The Crumbs, out in California (that’s also coming out soon, folks), and Katie Fredrick in Abigail Haunting (that’s also also coming out soon, folks).     Since then, I’ve acted in a few amazing shorts and things. One of my upcoming shorts that really stands out to me is a fantasy drama called Lumeria. For the past several months I’ve been taking a break from acting, which I think has been really good for me. It kind of feels like taking a gap year from college to find yourself. (Not that I would know what that feels like. I’m not very school-y. Hence my use of the term “school-y”.) But anyway, it’s been a wild journey, and I’m excited to get back on set fairly soon. Wow, that answer was way longer than you bargained for. And I’m glad of it. I’m not ashamed of being a long-winded person, guys.

What three things about horror films appeal to you the most?

  I love being dramatic. And name one time you can be more dramatic than when you’re starring in a horror movie. Also, I think fear is the most intense emotion, and I like to see what I can do with it. My third reason is that I have fun knowing that I can keep the audience on their seat when I’m performing. I feel like I’ve got them in the palm of my hand. When I began my acting career as a child, I just wanted to act – I didn’t like all the power and attention that came with it. But that power and attention has grown on me as my confidence has grown. I love the power I have over the audience when I’m doing horror. Boo. Just kidding. I guess I’m a little hammy. Which makes sense, because ham is pretty much the only meat that I think is yummy.

What  three films have scared you the most and what scared you about them?

   I think I’m kind of desensitized to horror films because I’m around the genre so much. I see it from a behind-the-scenes perspective, you know? But I think one of the greatest horror films ever made is The Conjuring. It’s so well-shot and well-acted, and shows that you don’t need a ton of blood and profanity to scare people. Fun fact: I actually auditioned for The Conjuring 2, and had never seen the first one. I watched it before I auditioned for pre-text, and was like, “Oh my gosh!” Totally amazed. Still amazed. Anyway, we aren’t here to promote that movie. (but it had Ocean Master in it! -Editor) Another one of my favorite horror movies is Crimson Peak, because I love period pieces. And that cast is super dang good. I also love The Witch. One of my big wishes is to work with A24. I can’t give you an answer for what scared me about them. I’m just not easily freaked out by the obviously scary stuff. I’m literally more afraid of broken dolls or something. There’s a drawer in the house I grew up in that me and my mom call the “Scary Drawer” that has broken dolls from my childhood in it. I don’t throw them away because randomly I have an urge to scare myself. Is that weird? I don’t care.

Do you have a different approach in your preperations depending on the script?    What has been the three best pieces of advice given to you acting wise?

  Yes, I do prepare differently based on each particular production. That being said, though, I don’t have any conscious strategy to prepare for a role. If there’s any research I need to do, I do it. I write notes in the script sometimes. I rehearse. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have to try. It just comes. Trying too hard can corrupt that. I sound like a granola, but it’s true. That’s why I don’t take acting classes. I’m not sure if I believe in strategy. As for the second part of your question, here are 3 great pieces of advice given to me (in no particular order). One is from a great friend of mine who told me that it’s not about the dialog, but what happens underneath. I am definitely a dialog person, so I don’t even 100% agree with that, but I still consider it one of the best pieces of advice because it reminds me to pay attention to my facial expressions. Facial expressions can get you cast. Seriously. Another piece of advice is from my mom. It wasn’t meant to be advice for acting, but I use it in my career as much as I do in my personal life. And it is simply to be confident in yourself and don’t care what others think of you. My third piece of advice was from a very established director that I was doing a callback for once. Because of my extensive horror background, I kind of got to the point where I thought every scene needed the intensity that a scary scene does. This movie I had been called back for wasn’t a horror film, but I did the scene with so much intensity and drama. It was literally so dramatic. The director told me to do the scene again, and he had one note for me. “Less.” That one word made me realize that I can save my energy for the scenes that need it. I didn’t book that role, but I auditioned for The 13th Cross like 2 days later, used that advice, and landed my first lead in a feature.

Which do you perfer,film or live theater and why?

 I think I’ll always appreciate both…I did start in theatre after all…but I’m going to have to say film. I’m a very subtle actor, and film is the medium that lets me use that talent. Also, I’ve gotten to play much more dramatic and juicy roles in movies than I ever did in plays. And probably most important of all, I just feel like film peeps are more my species of peep.

Which three people inspire you the most and why?

 That’s a tough one – so many people inspire me! If we’re talking celebrity-wise, I’d say Kate Winslet. She’s kind of the reason I got into film acting. I always wanted to be like her. You should read my 15-year-old self’s journal entries. I talk about Kate Winslet so much, it’s not even funny. Another one is Emily Blunt because she is so freaking versatile. That’s how I want to be. Oh and Toni Collette. I’m not even going to give you a reason for that other than she’s just super cool and talented and dramatic as heck. If we’re talking someone I personally know, I’d say my friend Dennis. He is just beyond amazing and interesting. And as mysterious as a treasure chest. He has so much love for literally everybody. 

What do you like to do for fun when you’re not working?

 Ice-skating, making jewelry, walking/hiking, anything involving a tape recorder, photography, and most of all, any type of adventure with my friends or family. 

What are three things people would be surprised to know about you?

 I love this question! Can I tell you more than 3? Well, I’m gonna. 

      -1. I’m also a singer and dancer.

      -2. I am related to Scottish royalty. 

      -3. I have a severe mental disorder called Psychasthenia. 

      -4. I have been onstage with David Copperfield.

      -5. I am ambidextrous. 

      -6. I have never been swimming, and I used to think that was a deep dark secret.

      -7. I am related to Elizabeth Montgomery.

      -8. My favorite food is cheese.

    Okay, I’ll stop boring you. Not that it’s boring, hee hee.

The cheetah and I are flying over to watch your latest film but we are a day early and now you are playing tour guide,what are we doing?

 Hmmm…well you really SHOULD visit Salt Lake sometime, it’s a beautiful city. One of my favorite attractions in Utah is an amusement park called Lagoon. I can’t ride all the rides because I get motion sick really easily, but I still love that place. Besides fun rides, they have little shops, and an arcade, and an old-fashioned museum thingy-jingy. Another one of my favorite places near my hometown is the Grand America Hotel. It’s kind of like a mall in there, and it’s the fanciest place I’ve ever seen. I also might take you to a cute little place called Gardner Village.

  I like to thank Chelsea for doing such an fun and interesting interview. Of course the cheetah and I looking at each and going “A24????” knowing full well a certain film buff we know will be getting a HUGE kick out of that…..yeah,Danny,we are talking about you! The thing is,I believe Chelsea will indeed work on a A24 film in the near future,she has the drive and the skills to make it happen for herself. Hopefully soon we’ll be reviewing “Angie Bleeds” here on the blog and you’ll see why we are excited to see where Chelsea goes next. For now,you can click on any of her social media platforms below and follow Chelsea’s rising star…..

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/chelseajurkiewiczactress/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chelseaamberjurkiewicz/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChelseaJActress

IMDb: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm6922643/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRKkRcWhcZOuqv36lV_oPcA

Abigail Haunting page & trailer

Thank you for supporting my interview series and if you like to catch up with who we have chatted with….click here. Feel free to leave a comment as well…..

8 Questions with………actress Chelsea Jurkiewicz Its 10:08 am Welcome to “8 Questions with…..”   It was the last week of January and someone mentioned that it was almost time for “Women In Horror Month” which happens in February.

[kalique]

MINE THOUGHTS ON BIG BROTHER

FAYSAL - definitely a jock type, can’t see him getting evicted first unless he pisses everyone off. he’s got a face that’s either “i’m the nicest guy in the house” or “i’m the new josh,” there is NO in between. his strategy for not letting anyone see he’s a physical powerhouse is going to kind of backfire because he’s SUCH a huge jock that i could tell he was a fucking jock from just his headshot, no freaking way anyone is going to think this guy isn’t a physical threat. 

SAM - nice “i want to see your manager” haircut, madam. she describes herself as “multifaceted, charming and charismatic,” and i can already tell i am going to hate this woman. and whomst in the fuck says their favorite big brother houseguest is DANIELE????? (i was trying to think of a worse choice, and i can only come up with like, either cody from last season, or the hantz cousin who got kicked off for trying to kill a guy, or maybe lawon from season 13 who volunteered to get evicted because he thought they’d bring him back with special powers, which did NOT happen.) and then this woman goes on to describe herself with all the positive adjectives she can pull from her thesaurus. she calls herself “extremely perceptive and intuitive,” and says she’ll “influence the other houseguests by means of gentle persuasion and manipulation. Another terrible talent of mine.” I HATE SAM ALREADY. she’s going to get kicked out on day 1 with this attitude. be humble sit down.

TYLER - haven’t we already had like, 50 curly blonde headed surfer guys on this show? what is the deal? anyway one of his descriptive words is “questionable.” he calls himself “questionable.” okay. he says victor, dan and zach (literally “fruit loop dingus” zach) are his favorite houseguests and i love you already, tyler. great choices. his strategy is playing both sides of the house, which isn’t even a strategy since literally everyone does it. his life motto is “do whatever the hell you want” and for something he’d like to bring into the house, he lists “quinoa.” I LOVE HIM ALREADY. I SUPPORT HIM. “QUINOA.” WHAT A LEGEND

BAYLEIGH - okay that is.... the most millennial name i ever heard. but like, it’s not a name that a millennial should have, it’s a name that a millennial would give their child. anyway. one of her descriptive words is “engulfing.” what does that mean, i guess we’ll find out. i like her face. sometimes you just like people’s faces. her favorite houseguest ever is donny, which i think is a clue that i was right that she’s a kind person. she has a kind face AND loves donny, she’s got to be nice (but maybe not too concerned with gameplay, since donny, bless his heart, was the biggest floater ever). her strategy is basically just a long-winded “be myself” kind of thing. i respect that. AND SHE LITERALLY SAYS “BE HUMBLE SIT DOWN” IN HER LIFE MOTTO, DO YOU FUCKING HEAR THAT SAM? i hope bayleigh roasts sam in cold blood and brings her down to earth!!!! okay, further evidence that she’s the nicest houseguest: she wants to bring her bible and yoga mat into the house. i love her. but still, i hope she turns mean and roasts sam. because i hate sam.

JC - here we have our token gay, but he’s clearly also a token bro at the same time. his favorite houseguest of all time is josh....... okay moving on. his strategy is “I am going to be the sweetest small guy that everyone would want to hug and kiss.” best strategy i ever heard in my life. seriously. this is how people win. except for josh, who won by being so insane that no one considered him a threat. which is why NO ONE SHOULD WANT TO EMULATE HIM, THIS STRATEGY ALMOST NEVER WORKS. anyway. enough about josh. returning to jc. not much to talk about with him, just that i definitely think he’s going to get far in the game because he doesn’t talk shit, he isn’t arrogant, he doesn’t look like a huge physical threat (although he’s a dancer so he might be), and his strategy is to be really nice to everyone, which is actually a great freaking strategy. i think he will go far.

HALEIGH - oh my god, first we had a “bayleigh” and now we have a “haleigh.” my god, these freaking millennials and their leigh names. facially, the moment i saw her i was like “she looks just like aaryn” which is..... hopefully not indicative of her personality or beliefs.... anyway, she loves her family, and her favorite houseguest is derrick because “he played an honest game,” yet in the very next paragraph she talks about wanting to deceive her fellow houseguests, so what is the truth? don’t know about her, don’t really have much to say. just that, she talks about being adopted and i hope to god she’s not aaryn’s separated at birth secret twin sister or anything. because that’s the kind of stunt big brother would pull on us commoners. 

STEVE - okay now we have our token old man, who will either get evicted immediately or float to the middle and then get betrayed. his favorite contestant is mike boogie. interesting choice. he literally doesn’t even have a strategy and his life motto is “rock on,” and i love him already. and of COURSE he was a cop, because is there a single token old man other than donny who isn’t a cop? wasn’t kevin a cop? i feel like kevin was a cop. or was that someone else? damn i don’t even remember. this guy looks like the kind of houseguest who will float around and not stir up any trouble, and frankly they’re my favorite to root for.

KAYCEE - her strategy is honesty and loyalty, she’ll probably get betrayed on day one. not to be cynical but really. she says that big brother is the only tv show she watches... damn. that could be a great asset for her; with no other shows competing for her memory, her knowledge of the game could be stronger than others who watch a lot of TV. and if she ONLY makes time for big brother and no other show, she’s probably the superest of superfans. she may be one to watch, or she may not. we will see.

WINSTON - damn this guy looks like a winston. he comments that he’s been living alone for 2 years, as though this will help him adjust to the isolation of the big brother house, but... it’s kind of the opposite? after living alone for 2 years, you’re going to be shoved in a house with over a dozen strangers and forced to interact with them all day every day while cameras watch you. i think this guy is going to have a bigger culture shock than he expects. his favorite houseguest is paul. i can see why people would love paul, he seems like the smartest guy in the room, but the reality is, paul isn’t that smart, he’s just been stuck in two consecutive seasons with a cast full of IDIOTS. winston apparently writes love letters to his dog everyday......... that’s dedication. also, he says that he’s been mistaken for two celebrities: ryan reynolds (i can see it) and justin timberlake (nope he’s tripping). somehow i get the feeling that he’s not going to adjust well to the house, and may end up being one of those guys that begs everyone to evict him because he can’t stand it.

RACHEL - first of all, her favorite houseguest is britney, which is the most valid possible answer. she sort of looks like natalie from idk how many season ago that dated james. strategy: to downplay being a physical threat and remain loyal to her original allies. dude, you gotta go with the flow, sometimes you just can’t stay loyal. i actually don’t even have that much to say. just, she looks okay. fine.

SCOTTIE - forgive me if i’m wrong but is this the token nerd, a la ian and steve? he says his least favorite part of the big brother house will be getting shook when he walks in a room and everyone stops talking because they were plotting something, and... that’s 100% something a superfan would say. his favorite player is evel dick, which would be valid if evel dick wasn’t literally an evil human being. he describes himself as a hungry shark and says that his strategy is to pick off the floaters and JESUS this guy is aggressive. also he is a virgin who has never been kissed and freely admits to this fact. somebody get this man a showmance. 

ANGIE “ROCKSTAR” - this season’s token eccentric with dyed hair, huge-ass harry potter glasses, and crazy eyes. one of her favorite activities is “dancing under the moonlight around a fire to fierce drum beats.” her favorite houseguests are joey (blue haired girl that got eliminated first like 3 seasons ago) and frankie. she wants to bring a statue of ganesh into the house. she mentions giving natural birth to all her children. i am just stating all this information. i am not going to give comment. just.... telling it like it is.

CHRIS “SWAGGY C” - please god, let this guy not be serious about his nickname, because i am not making reference to “swaggy c” for the rest of the summer. he LOVES paul and says that paul is better than every single other winner except a few, and..... i mean he’s not even wrong, but that’s more a statement about the quality of big brother rather than the quality of paul’s gameplay. when asked if he has a strategy, he says “of course” but doesn’t reveal it.... sneaky sneaky, i like the cut of his jib! he mentions wanting to bring a notebook into the house, but says he doesn’t even need it because he has a photographic memory. we’ll see about that, buster. he seems really confident and ready to play, and idk if that will work in his favor or not.

ANGELA - if katharine mcphee and sarah michelle gellar had a baby. she’s like, the 10th consecutive houseguest to say that the hardest thing about the house will be lack of social media. she seems to hate men, her favorite houseguest is rachel, she calls herself the networking queen, and she’s extremely athletic. this lady is either going to get eliminated immediately or make it to the end. i am calling it. i have a good feeling.

BRETT - has the weirdest descriptive words of any of them: “Vehement, riveting, and trophy.” wtf. like many other hgs, he plans to lie about his career for no discernible reason. whatever. he wants to bring a toothbrush into the house because he “doesn’t want the ladies to think he has stank breath.” you and every other competitor, bud. he also mentions hacking into other people’s computers for fun. okay edgelord. i don’t like this guy, i just have a bad vibe. i feel like he’s going to be one of the first eliminated cause no one will like him.

KAITLYN - suuuuuuper spiritual. crystals. mediums. seances. the whole shebang. production is probably gonna ask her to ramp it up to make herself look even more of a stereotype so everyone can laugh. i feel like she’s not gonna make it far and i already feel sorry for her.

[thelastspeecher]

D R A M

The title of this post is actually what I named the Word doc that I wrote this up in.  This write takes place in an AU inspired by a post that said something along the lines of “supervillain winds up marrying the ex-spouse of their superhero archnemesis”.  I saw that post and was like “time to make another version of the Superhero/villain AU”.  So here you go.

——————————————————————————————

              Stan slid into his regular stool at the bar. At the sound of soft muttering, he looked over.  He raised an eyebrow.  Normally, no one sat next to his stool.  But today, a young woman sat there, staring morosely at her drink and mumbling something.

              “Hey, hot stuff,” he said cheerfully, leaning in. She held up a hand.  Light glinted off the golden band around her ring finger.

              “I’m married,” she said dully.

              “You don’t sound too happy about it,” Stan remarked. She glared at him.  “I call it like I see it, toots.”

              “Don’t call me ‘toots’,” she snapped.

              “Fine.  What should I call you, then?”

              “By my name.”

              “Which would be…?”

              “…Angie.”

              “Angie.”  Stan held out a hand.  “I’m Stan.” Angie shook the offered hand. “So, what brings a troubled wife to my favorite dive?”

              “My dick of a husband,” Angie groused.  She slumped over the bar.  “I swear…some days he acts like a completely dif’rent man than the one I married.”  Tears shone in her voice, along with a distinct southern accent.  She picked up her drink and pulled on the straw.  It rattled in the ice at the bottom of the otherwise empty glass.  “And I’m all out.”

              “I’ll cover it.  What’s your drink?”

              “Long Island iced tea.”

              “Oof.  Maybe I shouldn’t get you a second one of those.  Those are a bad decision in a glass.”  Angie straightened, her eyes boring into Stan’s.

              “I can handle my liquor, sir.  I bet I can handle it better ‘n you can,” she snarled. Stan held his hands up.

              “Okay, okay, I believe you.  Man, you’ve got claws, don’t you?”

              “Maybe.”

              “Heh.  I like a woman with a bit of fight in her.”  Stan winked.

              “Still married.”

              “To that dick?  Why?”

              “He treats me right,” Angie mumbled into her drink. “…Sometimes.”

              “Sometimes?  What about the rest of the time?”

              “He tries to get me to quit my job and be a housewife.”

              “Why?”

              “If I knew, I’d tell ya,” Angie said with a shrug. She tapped the rim of her glass. “So, about that drink…?”

              “Hey, barkeep?” Stan called, flagging down the bartender.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one corner of Angie’s mouth turn up, into a ghost of a smile.

-----

              Stan had just about finished putting his boots on when his favorite coworker, Undertow, stormed into the locker room.  He watched with a raised eyebrow as Undertow tore open his locker, muttering under his breath.

              “You’re in a mood today,” Stan commented.  Undertow sighed.  He looked back at Stan.  The crew’s general policy was to keep masks on at all times in HQ, since there were some new heroes with telepathy who might be able to take a peek at a villain’s memories.  Undertow’s outfit had a full cowl, rather than a domino mask like Stan’s, but even partially obscured, he had one of the most expressive faces Stan had ever seen. And at the moment, Undertow’s expression was frustrated and saddened.

              “I thought she was fin’ly goin’ to leave him,” Undertow said.  Stan’s second eyebrow raised to join his first.

              He’s pretty damn upset.  Normally, he keeps that accent in check.

              “Who?” Stan asked.

              “My sister.”

              “You have a sister?”

              “Two.”  Undertow sat on the bench next to Stan.  “But the one I’m speakin’ of is my twin sister.”  Stan racked his brain for any hints about Undertow’s background.  As someone without villainous family connections, he wasn’t privy to information that some of his coworkers had.  But he remembered hearing once that Undertow came from a long line of villains.

              “Is she…in the trade?” Stan asked.  Undertow shook his head.

              “No.  When we were younger, she wanted to be.  But she decided not to, when she started datin’ the feller what became her husband.” Undertow scowled.  “Her husband’s a real piece of shit.”

              “Did he prevent her from being a villain?”

              “Nah.  He don’t know ‘bout our fam’ly bein’ full of villains.  But he’s on the straight ‘n narrow, and wouldn’t have liked his wife to be breakin’ the law.”  Undertow sighed heavily.  “As it is, he don’t really like his wife doin’ much of anything.  Which is why my sister needs to dump his sorry ass.”  Undertow rubbed his face.  “And I thought she was goin’ to do it this time.  But she didn’t.”

              “What happened?”

              “They had another argument about how he wants her to start poppin’ out kids.  She don’t want to yet, ‘cause she feels like takin’ maternity leave right now would cripple her career trajectory.  And his response was that she won’t need maternity leave, ‘cause she can just quit her job.  He keeps pushin’ that issue over ‘n over.  He don’t like her workin’.”

              “Sounds like a douche.”

              “He is!  And after that fight, she came to my house fer a shoulder to cry on.  I did my best to sway her, but she still went back to him once she’d calmed down.”  Undertow groaned loudly.  “Honestly, at this point, I can’t think of a single thing that’d get her to leave him.”

              “Maybe I should make a pass at her,” Stan joked. Undertow snorted.

              “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.  You’d be better fer her than what she’s got right now.”

-----

              Stan went to the bar every night, hoping to see Angie again, but it took a month before she showed up.  This time, she arrived after he did, visibly in tears. She made her way to the stool next to Stan’s and sat down.  Faint breezes danced around her, kicking up her caramel-colored hair.

              Is…is she a super?  I knew she was something special.  Stan wordlessly slid her his whisky, which she downed in one swallow. He winced.

              “Your husband again?” he asked.  Angie nodded morosely.  “Well, at least he lasted a month before he pissed you off enough to make you drown your sorrows.”

              “Nah, I just went to my brother’s last time,” Angie said hoarsely.  “He’s got real moonshine, and I wanted somethin’ strong.”

              “If your brother’s got hooch, why are you coming here?” Stan asked.  Angie slid Stan’s empty tumbler back to him, determinedly avoiding eye contact.

              “I…wanted to talk to you.”

              “…Really?”

              “Yes.”

              “Look, lady, I’m not a marriage counselor.”

              “I know.  But you don’t have an agenda.  My brother does.  My whole fam’ly does, all my friends do.  All they say is ‘leave him’.”  Angie met Stan’s gaze.  Her eyes were a bright, brilliant blue, swimming in tears.  “I just need someone to listen.”

              “I can do that, but you’re gonna have to pay for another whiskey for me first,” Stan said.  Angie managed a watery chuckle.

              “Fine.”  Angie waved over the bartender and ordered herself a Long Island iced tea and another whiskey for Stan.

              “All right,” Stan said once his drink was in hand. “What’s going on?”

              “My ma became a stay-at-home mother when I was a tot.  She kept house and raised six kids-”  Stan coughed roughly.

              “Six kids?” he croaked.  Angie nodded.  “What the-”

              “We’re Catholic.”

              “Ah, okay.  Carry on.”

              “Props to her.  It’s a rough job to have, and I don’t look down on it.”  Angie slammed her hands against the counter.  A wind picked up, rattling the old beer advertisements on the wall.  “But it ain’t fer me!”

              “Lemme guess.  Your husband wants you to be a stay-at-home mom.”

              “Yes.  Which I knew. But this time- this time, he brought my ma into it!  Told me that I’d be good at it ‘cause my ma clearly was.  I just-”  Angie gestured wordlessly.  “How- how could he think that’s a compliment?”

              “Probably ‘cause he’s so dead set on you doing that,” Stan said with a shrug.  “He’s already decided you’ll do it, so he’s already started complimenting you on it.”

              “…That makes sense,” Angie said softly.  She groaned loudly.  “Why is he like this?”  Stan shrugged.  “I want to stay with him, to get him to change his mind-”

              “That’s not your job.  Your job is-”  Stan frowned. “Wait, what do you do?”

              “I’m a zookeeper.”

              “Your job is to keep zoos,” Stan said.  Angie furrowed her brow, like she couldn’t decide whether she was amused by Stan’s phrasing or not.  “Not to drag your husband out of the fifties.”

              “But I’m his wife.”

              “And?”

              “I’m s’pposed to help him change.”

              “What if he doesn’t want to change?” Stan asked. “What do you do then?”  The winds that had entered the bar with Angie abruptly died down.

              “…Yer right.”

              “I am?”

              “He don’t want to change.  He don’t want to listen to me.  I can’t force it, I shouldn’t have even tried.”  Angie dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and stood to leave.

              “Hey, uh wait-” Stan started.  Angie looked at him.

              “Yes?”

              “I, uh, I never got your last name.”

              “It’s Hillcrest.”  Angie slid her wedding ring off and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. “But not fer long.”  She paused for a moment, watching Stan, then leaned in and placed a gentle peck on his cheek.  With that, she left the bar.

              Stan stared at the door long after she had gone, his mind running a mile a minute.

              Did I just get her to break up with her husband?

-----

              Stan walked out of the shower and headed for his locker to get dressed in his civvies.  After he had his pants on, Undertow entered the locker room and went for his locker as well.

              “Hey,” Stan said.  Undertow grunted.  “Is it your sister’s husband again?”

              “Hmm?”  Undertow turned around.  “Oh, no, she finally dumped him.”

              “Really?  Good for her.”

              “Yeah.  But she’s got a new beau, and she insisted on dinner with him tonight.”  Undertow sighed.  “I’m not looking forward to it.”

              “Is he a dick, too?”

              “Don’t know.  Haven’t met him.”

              “Ah.  I get it. You don’t wanna meet your sister’s new man just yet.”

              “No, I do not.”

              “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not looking forward to dinner tonight, either,” Stan said, slipping on his T-shirt. “I’m meeting my girlfriend’s brother for the first time.”

              “Oof.”  Undertow looked at him sympathetically.  “Don’t worry too much, Flamethrower.  You’re a great guy.”

              “Thanks, but I dunno if her brother’s gonna think that. My girlfriend says he can be a bit tough.”  Undertow walked over to Stan and clapped a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

              “I’m sure it’ll go great.”

              “Hopefully,” Stan muttered.  Undertow smiled at him.

              “If her brother doesn’t like you, he’s a damn fool.”

-----

              Stan walked up to the address Angie had given him. When she divorced her ex-husband, she had moved in with her twin brother, Lute.  Apparently, Lute was thrilled to have her with him again.

              I get it, though.  That twin bond is strong.  Stan stopped in front of the door.  He took a deep breath and knocked.

              “Comin’!” Angie called.  Stan felt some of his nerves disperse at the sound of her voice. The door opened, revealing the beaming face of his girlfriend.  “Stanley!” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you so much fer agreein’ to this.”

              “You said it’s important, so…”

              “It is,” Angie said softly.  “It really is.”  Her eyes lit up.  “Oh! And, um, remember how ya told me that yer not exactly…on the side of the law?” she said, her voice low.  Stan nodded.  Telling Angie he was a villain had been nerve wracking, but she had proven herself once again to be the best possible girlfriend and taken it in stride. “Well, the reason I took it so well is ‘cause I have a lot of fam’ly members who ‘re in the same career.”

              “Wait, really?”

              “Yep!  Lute’s one of ‘em.  If things go well tonight, I can prob’ly convince him to put a good word in fer ya, get ya moved up in the ranks a bit.”

              “You really think so?” Stan asked eagerly. Angie nodded.  “That would be awesome, Ang.”

              “Just be charmin’, okay?”  Angie messed with his shirt.  “But that shouldn’t be a problem.”

              “Hey, Angie, the oven just beeped!” a voice shouted. Stan’s head whipped up.

              That almost sounded like Undertow.

              “All right, I’ll come take care of it,” Angie called back.  She kissed Stan on the cheek.  “Come on in and take a seat in the livin’ room.”

              “You got it.”  Stan kissed the top of her head and entered the house, following the hallway until he arrived at a cozy living room.  He took a seat on the brown couch.  Shortly after, a young man that looked eerily similar to Angie entered, holding a glass of water, and took a seat next to him.

              “So, um…” the man said.  He cleared his throat.  “Yer Stan?”

              “Yeah.  I’m guessing you’re Lute?”

              “Yessir.”

              “Nice to meet you,” Stan said, holding out a hand. Lute shook it, visibly reluctant. “Angie speaks pretty highly of you.”

              “She does the same fer you.”  Lute cleared his throat again.  “What do you do?”

              “I sell used cars.”

              “Used cars?”

              “Yeah.”  Stan shrugged.  “It’s just to make some dough while I work on my passion projects.”  Lute eyed Stan with interest.  Much like when he had heard Lute’s voice earlier, Stan was reminded of Undertow.  Something about the look in Lute’s gray eyes was eerily familiar.

              “Passion projects?  Like what?”

              “Oh, uh, I’m keeping them to myself until they work out,” Stan said.

              Don’t wanna spill just yet that I want to become a villain full-time.

              “Ah.”  Lute seemed disappointed.  He looked down at his glass of water.  After a moment, he spoke again.  “You a super?”

              “Yeah.  You?” Stan asked without thinking.  He fought back a wince.

              Angie just told you he was a villain, of course he’s a super, you dumbass.  Lute smirked. The water in his glass shot up, hovered as a sphere for a split second, then zipped around the room before returning to his glass.  Stan’s jaw dropped.

              “Whattaya think?” Lute asked snidely.

              “…I think you’re a super,” Stan said.

              Shit, it is Undertow!  How did I wind up dating my coworker’s twin sister without realizing it?

              “Yup.”  Lute winked. “Better yet, I’m a mask.  Give ya twenty bucks if ya can guess who.”

              “Lute!” Angie scolded from the kitchen.  Lute groaned.

              “Fine, I’ll drop it.”  Before Stan could think of what to do with the information that Lute was Undertow, the villain in question spoke again.  “So, ya sell used cars.  What’s yer education like?”

              “Uh, high school.”

              “That’s it?” Lute asked.  Stan nodded.  Lute frowned. “My sister has a-”

              “Doctorate in herpetology, I know,” Stan said.

              “And you don’t think it’s odd at all that someone so educated is with someone who only graduated high school?” Lute pressed. Stan shrugged.

              “It just means that she’s smart enough for the both of us,” he said airily.  Lute froze. His eyes began to frantically search Stan’s face.

              “…What did ya just say?” he whispered.

              “That Angie’s smart enough for both of us,” Stan said.  A memory abruptly surfaced of a conversation he’d had with Undertow a few days ago. He had mentioned his relationship, as well as the discrepancy between his education and his girlfriend’s.  And Undertow had simply replied that Stan’s girlfriend would have to be smart enough for the both of them, then.

              “Hmm.”  Lute leaned back, still staring at Stan.  “Say, yer a super, right?  What kind?” In lieu of a verbal response, Stan snapped his fingers.  A flame burst to life on his fingertips.

              “Whattaya think?”

              “Flamethrower,” Lute whispered.  Stan extinguished the flame.

              “Undertow.”

              “Yer- I-”  Lute dragged his hands down his face.  “Consarnit!”

              “Yeah, I gotta admit, finding out that my girlfriend’s twin is my favorite coworker is pretty weird,” Stan confessed.  Lute groaned.  “But you seem to be taking this way harder than you should be.”

              “It’s just- yer my fav’rite coworker, too.”

              “You make that sound like it’s a problem.”

              “It is.  I like ya, Stan, which is goin’ to make it difficult to be hard on ya.”

              “Wait, what?” Stan asked.  Lute sighed.

              “I have to be hard on ya to make sure yer all right fer my sister.”

              “What?  Come on, man!”

              “My sister just got out of a bad relationship. I don’t want her to wind up in another one right off the bat.”

              “You know me.  I’m a good guy.  I treat Angie right.”

              “That’s what I thought ‘bout Max,” Lute said softly. “Hell, we’d been friends since we were in diapers.  I thought he was a decent sort.  So when he ‘n Angie started datin’ in high school, I didn’t bat an eye.  I should’ve.  If I had, maybe I could’ve stopped Angie from needin’ a divorce.”

              “Lute.”  Stan and Lute looked up.  Angie had entered the living room.  She crossed over to Lute, knelt in front of him, and placed a hand on one of his knees. “Don’t blame yourself.  The only person to blame is me.  I should’ve left the minute he became a hero, and I was goin’ to have to abandon the dream of followin’ the fam’ly tradition.  But I stayed.  Even when he started raggin’ on me ‘bout how I needed to be a more traditional wife.”

              “You were in a toxic relationship,” Lute said softly.  “Yer not to blame.”

              “The only person to blame here is your dick of an ex-husband,” Stan said.  Angie and Lute looked over.  “Lute’s right, Angie.  It’s difficult to leave a toxic relationship.  My mom’s proof of that.  But Angie’s right, too, Lute.  It’s not your fault, either.  Sometimes…sometimes people start out good, but then they get worse.  Even if you had been hard on Max when he started dating Angie, things still could have played out the way they did.”

              “Yeah,” Lute said.  He sighed.  “Yer right, Stan.  We should be blamin’ Max, not ourselves.  Especially since he’s apparently a hero.”  Lute directed the statement at Angie, who paled.  “Banjolina, what’s that about?”

              “Banjolina?” Stan mumbled.

              “I didn’t share information either way,” Angie said tartly, getting to her feet.  “I ain’t a snitch.”

              “Ya won’t be tellin’ us what his hero name is, then?” Lute asked.  Angie shook her head.  “Hmph. Guess we’ll just have to figure it out on our own.”

              “Speaking of secret identities,” Stan said, “why didn’t you warn us that we already knew each other?”  Angie grinned.

              “I might not have ever gotten into the villainy game, but that don’t mean I ignore the chance to stir up some mischief.” Something in the kitchen beeped.  “Oh, I’ve got to get that.”  She rushed back into the kitchen.

              “Given what ya just said and what I already knew about you,” Lute said slowly, “I’ll drop the protective big brother speech.” Stan leaned back.

              “Cool.  I mean, no offense, but you’re not as intimidating as you think you are,” Stan replied.  Lute rolled his eyes.

              “Whatever.”  He leaned closer to Stan.  “Between the two of us, I think we could figure out which hero it is what broke Angie’s heart and trapped her in a bad relationship fer years on end.”  Stan nodded.

              “I agree.  That motherfucker needs to get a firm ass-kicking.”

[thelastspeecher]

After the Farmer’s Market

Okay, so, a while back, @mythomagically-delicious wrote this AMAZING fic called Farmer’s Market, which took place in a variation of my Superhero/villain AU.  Specifically, a variation in which Stan decides to join the McGucket family in being a villain.  And I randomly got inspired, as I am wont to do, and ended up writing a continuation to it.  So....here it is.  Enjoy.

              Fiddleford hung up the phone.

              “That was my folks.  They got home safe,” he said to Ford and Stan.  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah, makes sense,” Stan said.  “I mean, not a lotta people would mess with three villains.”  Ford’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.  He punched Stan in the upper arm.

              “Stanley!” Ford hissed.  Fiddleford eyed Stan and Ford, clearly trying to decide how to respond.  “Fiddleford, I’m so sorry for that.  I’m, um, I’m sure your family is lovely when- when they haven’t been robbed by my twin brother.”  Ford frowned at Stan.  “And I’m equally sure that they aren’t villains.”  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “Ford, you didn’t go to lunch with them.  You shoulda heard ‘em talking.  It was insane.  They’re definitely villains.  Back me up, Fiddlesticks.”  Fiddleford played with the phone cord silently.  “Come on, man.  They’re villains, right?”

              “That depends,” Fiddleford said softly.  Stan and Ford exchanged a small look.

              “…on what?” Ford asked.  Fiddleford took a deep breath.

              “Whether my answer will leave this room or not.”

              “You can trust me,” Ford said.

              “Yeah, I don’t really have much to gain from selling out your family,” Stan said after a moment.  Fiddleford let out a dry chuckle.

              “I ‘ppreciate the honesty.  Well, in that case…the fam’ly members ya met today ain’t currently villains.  Basstian dabbled a bit in college but dropped it to focus on his studies, Pa retired when my older sister was born, and Ma retired when my lil siblin’s were about three.  But my ma ‘n pa were terrors in their time.”

              “Who were they?” Ford asked curiously.  Fiddleford took a deep breath.  “If you’re not comfortable-”

              “Would we have heard of ‘em?” Stan interrupted.  Fiddleford shrugged.

              “I don’t rightly know.  Ma had herself quite a reputation, but she wasn’t one of them big names.  Pa, he didn’t do much, so it wasn’t too difficult of a choice fer him to give it up.”  Fiddleford grimaced.  “I ain’t sayin’ what they went by.  I’ve already said a bit more ‘n I should’ve.”

              “What if I took your folks up on their offer?” Stan asked.  A small smile creeped across Fiddleford’s face.

              “If that were the case, I’d be willin’ to share some more information.”

              “What offer?” Ford asked, looking back and forth between Fiddleford and Stan. Stan leaned forward, the somewhat dingey couch he and Ford were sitting on creaking in protest.

              “None of your business, Sixer.  Fiddlesticks, can your family really…put me in the game?”

              “Yes.”

              “Even if they’re retired?”

              “They’re retired from actively punchin’ heroes and holdin’ folks hostage, not retired from every aspect of villainy.  And even if they were, I’ve got active siblin’s out West what can always use an extra hand on their crew.”

              “Hang on,” Ford interjected.  He stared at Stan.  “Stanley, are- are you really trying to get in on the ground floor of villainy?” Stan shrugged.  “What would Mom think?”

              “I don’t care what Mom thinks,” Stan snapped.  “She didn’t care about me enough to track me down.  Neither did you, by the way.”

              “Stan-”

              “I’ve already got a rap sheet.  I’ve used my powers for some of the things on it.  I’m halfway to being a villain anyways.”  Stan frowned.  “Only problem might be Mom.”

              “I thought you said you don’t care what she thinks,” Ford said snidely. Stan shoved him.

              “I don’t.  But villains might care about who she is.”

              “What, is she a police officer?  We don’t mind that sort of stuff,” Fiddleford said breezily.  Stan and Ford shook their heads in unison.

              “She’s a retired hero,” Ford answered.  Fiddleford winced.

              “That ain’t ideal.”  Fiddleford joined the twins on the couch, sitting on the other side of Stan.  “But it don’t have to be a deal-breaker.  What was her code name?”

              “I don’t know if-” Ford started.

              “Libra,” Stan said.  Fiddleford paled.  “Is it really that bad?”

              “Sweet sarsaparilla, it- it is.”  Fiddleford took a deep breath.  “I have a duty to pass on this information to my parents.  And I hate to break it to ya, but they might rescind their offer to help ya find a villainous crew.”

              “Just ‘cause my mom used to be Libra?” Stan asked.  “I haven’t even talked to her in years!  What’s the big deal?”

              “My ma went by the code name Sirocco,” Fiddleford said quietly.  Stan and Ford both stared.

              “Sirocco?  The- the aerokinetic villainess?” Ford asked.  “Regularly butted heads with- with Libra?”  Fiddleford nodded.

              “Oh, shit,” Stan whispered.  He put his head in his hands.  “Your mom and my mom were archenemies.  Dammit. There’s one of my few options down the drain.”

              “I think you have more options than resorting to villainy,” Ford interjected. Fiddleford peered around Stan to raise an eyebrow at Ford.

              “We don’t all choose villainy ‘cause it’s a ‘last resort’,” Fiddleford said. “Some of us do it out of passion fer the field.”

              “I’m starting to get rather uncomfortable with how you keep referring to yourself as a villain,” Ford said.  “You aren’t actively committing crimes while we live under the same roof, are you?”

              “I know how to cover my tracks,” Fiddleford said dismissively.  Ford steepled his fingers.

              “That doesn’t answer my question.”

              “I don’t want to answer yer question.”

              “Fantastic,” Ford muttered.

              “Look, the police won’t come after us, I promise,” Fiddleford said. He rubbed the back of his neck.  “Stanley, if…if yer invested in bein’ a villain, I can talk to my folks, see if they’d be willin’ to hook ya up in the community, even though yer mother was my own ma’s archenemy.”

              “Really?” Stan asked eagerly.  Fiddleford nodded.

              “Yep.”

              “That would be-”

              “Are you sure about this?” Ford asked softly.  Stan opened his mouth.  “Think about your answer.  This could change your life.”

              “Getting kicked outta the house changed my life,” Stan said after a moment. He looked at Fiddleford.  “Tell your folks that if they’ll have me, I’m in.”

----- 

              Stan landed next to a flowerbed lining the front of the modest, whitewashed farmhouse.  He glanced over at the bluebells in full bloom, crowded together like they were on a subway, and shut off his flames.

              Don’t need to accidentally set everything on fire.  Especially since they’re already a bit cautious about me.  The front door opened.  Mr. McGucket walked onto the porch.  He leaned against the railing.

              “Howdy, Stanley.”

              “Mr. McGucket.”  Stan nodded politely.  A small, devious grin wormed its way onto Mr. McGucket’s face.

              “Ya ready fer yer interview?”

              “Uh, yeah, I- I think so.”

              “Good.”  Mr. McGucket nodded at something behind Stan.  Before he could turn around to see what Mr. McGucket was looking at, Stan was hit in the back of the head by a large amount of water, knocking him onto the ground. Stan caught himself on his hands, skinning himself on the nearby gravel driveway.  He spun around.

              “That was more fun ‘n I expected,” said his assailant, a short, dark-haired man with the distinctive McGucket nose.  Stan looked back and forth between him and Mr. McGucket. There was a definite familial resemblance.

              “One of your kids?” Stan asked Mr. McGucket.  Mr. McGucket nodded.

              “My youngest son, Lute.  He’s one of the folks what will be runnin’ yer interview.”

              “One of them?  Then who’s the-” Stan started.  He was cut off by a strong gust of wind ruffling his hair and shirt, lifting him to his feet.  Stan turned in a circle, trying to determine where it came from.  He caught sight of a young woman leaning against the Stanleymobile. She grinned cheekily at him. “Hey, get your paws off my car! She’s a classic,” Stan snapped. The woman raised an eyebrow.

              “Oh?”  She hopped onto the hood and posed dramatically.  “Like this?”

              Under normal circumstances, that would be hot, but I’m here for a job interview.  The woman tossed her hair.  Fine.  It’s hot anyways.

              “Banjolina, get off there,” Mr. McGucket scolded.  “Yer here to interview Stan, not climb all over his car.”  The woman – Banjolina – pouted, but slid off the hood.  “Stan, this young lady is my youngest daughter, Banjolina.  She’ll be helpin’ Lute conduct yer interview.”

              “I go by Angie,” Banjolina said.  Stan nodded.

              “Got it.  Easier to remember.”  He looked back at Lute.  “You two seem pretty close in age.”

              “We’re twins,” Lute and Angie said together.

              “Like I was sayin’, they’ll be conductin’ yer interview,” Mr. McGucket said.

              “Okay, are we gonna head inside for the questions or whatever?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket laughed.

              “Goodness, no!” he chortled.  The devious grin returned.  “I don’t want my home to get water ‘n wind damage.”  Stan blinked.

              “Huh?”

              “Ya didn’t know?” Lute asked.  A grin to match his father’s appeared on his face.  “This ain’t a traditional interview.”

              “What the hell does that mean?”

              “If ya last fer fifteen minutes against Lute ‘n Angie, ya have the job,” Mr. McGucket said.  “They’re career villains, ‘n who you’d be runnin’ with, should we help ya join a crew.”

              “That’s it?” Stan asked, surprised.

              “Ya say that now,” Lute said.  “You’ll change yer mind once we actually start the fight.”

              “No, I wasn’t- I just meant, you’re not gonna ask me, like, where I see myself in five years or whatever?”

              “Pfft, no,” Angie scoffed.

              “Do ya want to go through the classic interview questions?” Lute asked.

              “No, no!  I just- you’re not gonna make sure I’m not spying for my mom?”

              “Yer diggin’ yourself a grave long ‘fore the funeral, son,” Mr. McGucket said. “Anyways, we already took a gander at yer emails, phone calls, internet history, medical records, et cetera.  Cursory background check, y’know?  To make sure that we can trust ya.  And now that we know we can trust ya, we can test ya, see if yer up to snuff.”

              “Wait, um- uh, did you say you looked at my internet history?” Stan asked, paling.  “‘Cause, uh, that- that wasn’t- I didn’t go to-”

              “Those dirty websites?” Lute drawled.  He chuckled. “I’ve seen worse.”

              “And we know ya went to ‘em,” Mr. McGucket said.  “One of the benefits of havin’ a technopath in the fam’ly.  We can track yer digital fingerprints better ‘n anyone else.”

              “…Great,” Stan muttered.

              “Are ya ready to get this ‘job interview’ goin’ yet?” Angie asked.  Stan sighed.

              “Yeah.  Hit me with your best shot.”