#ma'am youre husband isn't that great

[valeriesolanasapologist]

Trish is right, and she should say it. Louder.

[chaosandmarigolds]

Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)

Simon who knew he had it in the bag....

for about two hours

Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!

Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny

Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying

Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'

''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."

"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."

two minutes later-

"ya know that's a real low blow-"

"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."

"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."

"I will not do that."

"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."

Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep

Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world

"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."

Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river

Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???

John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old

Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-

"Capn?"

"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"

Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."

"O-"

"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"

"Yessir."

"Did you try Kyle?"

"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."

'"Ah-that's right, that's right."

Silence

"Sir I would like your help."

"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"

Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"

Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house

Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued

Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there

Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.

"Riley."

"Yessir."

"How long is your block?"

"Two kilometers around."

"Two laps."

faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"

"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."

Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."

"You don't want to run?"

Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."

"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"

A pause.

"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."

Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep

Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth

Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath

Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it

"Why did mom leave?"

huh?

"What?"

"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"

"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."

"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"

"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."

Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner

"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."

"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."

"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."

"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.

"Yeah baby?"

"Never go on away again, dad said so."

You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."

Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone

"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"

With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.

"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."

"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."

"I love you more."

(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)

[redfoxwritesstuff]

AN: Vexi may be sick but you know who isn't? Me! Ma'am keep your germs on your side of the continent, kk? Thanks. PS- for my MisD readers- This is MisD Alastor in his younger days. Different reader tho.

Summary: New to town, a handsome young man caught your eyes. After working up the bravery to introduce yourself to him, you find yourself in a rather precarious position as he gives you a reason to keep his secrets.

CW: It's smutmas, there's smut. P in V smut, semi public smut, questionable consent due to naivety of the reader, virgin reader, church sex

You were new in town and not much of a churchgoer yourself. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t have faith, you just… struggled. You attended primarily for the sake of your mother and for the slight fear that maybe, just maybe, they were right about what happened after death. 

It was a hope your mother held close to her heart, that you would catch the eye of a God fearing man who would sweep you away into a picturesque holy marriage. It wasn’t something you were so sure you wanted, even if you faced the potential of not believing. 

To say you were surprised when a man in your new church caught your eye would be a understatement, even more so considering who that man was. Not that you really knew who he was, but you had eyes and ears. The congregation was accepting and open, accepting into the fold a woman who was clearly of darker racial origins. Surprising you more was the young man she brought with her. 

He was clearly of mixed decent as well, skin far lighter than that of his mother. He could pass as white but only just and only one didn’t see him with darker folk. His brown hair was fluffy, straight with ever so slight of a wave touching it, giving hit at it’s natural state. 

He helped his mother to her seat, warming your heart. There was a softness in his looking after her that warmed your heart. You paid more attention to him than to the sermon, eyes drawn to him again and again. They always said you could judge how a man would be as a husband by how he treated his mother. 

“That young man catch your eye?” An older woman leaned forward, whispering in your ear. 

“Oh,” you startled, only to get shushed by your mother. 

“He’s a good boy, that one. I wasn’t sure about him or his mother when the church let them join, but they’re good people. He’s unattached, that one.” 

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting,” you whispered back. 

“He always steps away halfway through the service,” the woman added. “Says his legs get restless and goes to stretch them, if you wanted a chance to speak to him. After the service, all the little bells will gather around him to catch his eye. None of them have managed.” 

“Is that so?” You were not sure what the correct thing to say was.

“You won’t have a shot if you’re fighting everyone else, that’s all.” The woman shrugged behind you, not that you could see it. “May God bless your efforts if you try.” 

You didn’t intend to try. For two weeks, you had avoided trying. On the third week, you chickened out after half rising in your seat. 

It took a month for you to brave scurrying out of the room. There was a great distance between you as you followed him. 

Alastor ignored the woman trailing behind him, surely just another little church bell, wanting to bat her eyelashes at him and pout her lips. She had been eyeing him for weeks and yet she never braved approaching. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest when she followed him out.

Surely she would give up her chase when he climbed into the rafters. 

That was where he preferred to attend Sunday service. It was a compromise. His mother didn’t want him to leave the church, but he struggled in the pews, growing restless fairly quickly. 

He had protested his attending, even as a boy. Why should he sit in the house of God with men and women steeped in more sin than his own mother was, watching them pretend to be good people? The same people that surely wouldn’t serve either of them in their businesses or incite his mother into their homes.

But she wanted him to attend and so he did, in his own way. 

From high in the rafters, Alastor looked down on the congregation. He watched men he would kill, some only in his mind, some he actively was hunting as they prayed for forgiveness for sins they would commit again later in the day. They didn’t deserve forgiveness from a god Alastor didn’t think existed.

They deserved to be punished. 

You struggled to climb the stairs of the bell towers. The rafters were another world you had never imagined. From the ground, it was simply a world of darkness hiding a spiderweb of wooden beams. 

“What are you doing up here?” You called out, eyes settling on Alastor. 

“Why are you following me?” Alastor countered, head rolling to look at you from the beam he rested against before standing. 

“I… I wanted to introduce myself, that’s all.” Heat flooded your face as you were faced with the handsome man’s direct attention. 

“Ah,” he laughed, “That thing you’ve seem to have directly avoided doing for the last month?”

“Y-yes,” you looked down at the congregation below. “Everyone was always so eager for your attention. It never felt like the right time.” 

“I see,” Alastor eyed you as you carefully stepped out on the beam, skirt flowing around your legs. “And the middle of service is the right time?” 

“I-” you shook your head, not wanting to be pulled into a debate with the man. “What do you do up here?” 

“I judge them,” Alastor answered simply, honestly. “While they judge each other.” 

“Judgment is the place of God,” you answered, heart pounding in your chest. 

“Is it now?” Alastor hummed, reaching his hand out for you as you teetered across the thick beam, bracing yourself with the beam running above your head. “If so, he’s doing a right poor job of it. Half the men down there are steeped in sin.” 

“But they could change,” you pressed on, taking his hand as you drew closer. Beams spread out around the collum he had been leaning against, providing what functioned almost like a platform. 

“They’re not changing,” Alastor laughed softly. “And God isn’t judging them.” 

“That’s blasphemy,” you whispered back as the preacher droned on below you. 

“And yet I’ve not been struck down,” Alastor shrugged. 

You realized you needed to leave. This man you had thought to be so godly was far from it. Yet you couldn’t make your legs do more than step back. The heel of your shoe slipped off the beam, sending your foot dangling over the edge as your balance faltered. 

Alastor shot forward, arm wrapping around you as he pulled you against his body. He clamped his other hand over your mouth, strangling the scream in your throat. The last thing he wanted was for his hiding place of choice to be found out. 

Your hands rested against Alastor’s chest, fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. The thundering beat of your heart was loud in your ears. Every breath he took you could feel enter his chest. Never had any other had held you in such a way. 

You were a good girl. You didn’t do things like climb rafters during the church sermon following a man you didn’t know because he caught your eye. 

“Let go of me,” you whispered. 

“I’m not holding you,” Alastor answered, lifting his hands from where they lightly rested on your back. “You’re the one holding me.” 

You were so easy, Alastor realized. Your wide innocent eyes made it so easy for him to talk to you, to tell you too much. It was something about the rafters in the church; he decided as he watched you look up at him. 

“Your hand is gripping my shirt.”

“Oh!” Your fingers let go of him in a rush, body jerking back, only to risk losing your balance again. 

Alastor swept you up in his arms, turning to pin your body against the pole he had been leaning against. Below, people began to stand and filter out of the church, no doubt moving onto diners for an easy brunch, garden parties and so many sins. 

“You need to be careful,” Alastor hissed, body pinning yours to the pole. 

“I am,” you challenged, hand resting once again against his chest. 

“Not careful enough.” 

“And it’s so easy for you?” You huffed in his face, trying hard to cling to your indigency to protect yourself from the way your heart wanted to leap out of your chest at his close presence. 

The scent of the bayou clung to him, earthy and rich. It wasn’t a scent you were used to, having just moved to the area. It was a scent you found pleasing. You could get used to it. 

“It is,” Alastor said. “I’ll show you if you’ll stay there and don’t try to get up again.” 

“Fine,” you crossed your arms over your chest as Alastor pulled back from you. 

He stood easily, not holding onto anything to steady himself as his point of gravity changed. He walked up and down the beam, long legs carrying him from one beam to another in careful leaps made with the refined confidence of experience.

“Be careful,” you yelled as loud as you could while maintaining a whisper. “You’ll fall.” 

“I haven’t yet,” Alastor said as he returned to the makeshift platform you had taken up residence on. “Unlike you, I have a sense of balance.” 

“Your sin is pride, sir.” You struggled to keep a straight face as he knelt in front of you. 

“You’re just jealous,” Alastor laughed. 

“I’ll tell Father you’re hanging around up here, that it’s dangerous.” 

Alastor’s eyes darkened as he reached out, planting a palm next to your head on the pole. “You wouldn’t.” 

“I would.” Your heart beat harder in your chest as he drew closer. “It is the proper thing to do. Any godly woman would. Dare I say, it would be a sin not to!” 

“And if you were a sinner, too?” Alastor’s hand fell to your waist, caging you in with his limbs. “Then you wouldn’t be able to tell.” 

“I don’t-” The crash of his lips against yours silenced your question. Wide eyes looked back at him before you melted into the kiss. 

It was wrong; you knew that. You were far too weak to the sin of lust. Tucked under your bed were the romance novels your mother would have burned if she had found. You longed to be wanted by a man, to have a husband to teach you the ways of love, pleasure, passion and lust. Those very concepts were taboo to you, an unwed young woman, hardly more than a girl. 

Faced with the searing kiss that promised more, you struggled to do more than rest your hand against Alastor’s chest. You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted the hand on your waist to pull you closer. You wanted him to hold you. 

Wanting such things was a sin. You wanted to sin with Alastor.

Lips moved down your neck as you gasped, back arching. He held you in place, grounding you with the hand on your hip. 

“We can’t do this,” you whispered as blunt teeth grazed the soft skin where your neck and shoulder met. 

“We can,” Alastor promised, “I’ll make you feel good.” 

“It’s a sin,” you pleaded, hand on his chest as you failed to push him away. 

“I’ll make you feel so good you’ll see God,” Alastor’s hand left the pole, reaching down to pull your knees apart. As they spread, he walked closer to you on his knees. 

“That’s blast-” he cut off your accusation with a hot kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. You wanted more of those kisses. 

“You won’t regret it,” he swore. 

You knew you would, but as his hand cut a burning trail up the skin of your thigh, under the fabric of your dress, you struggled to care. 

You wanted his touch. You wanted his kiss. You wanted his sins. 

“Someone will see us, hear us,” you whispered as he pushed your legs up and apart with his knees. 

“Not if you’re quiet,” Alastor answered. 

“Is this something you’ve done up here before,” you asked as his knees slipped under your thighs, pinning your hips to the pole with his. 

“No,” Alastor admitted, “This sin will be the first I’ve committed here.” 

“What does that mean?” you asked as he pressed his crotch into your core. 

There was a slimy wetness in your panties you were not well familiar with. Sure, you had gotten damn when reading the scandalous romance books no one knew you had, but this was something else. 

There was a hardness in Alastor’s pants that rubbed against you, causing a pleasing friction you didn’t want to stop. His hands roamed your body, taking in the feel of your curves unashamedly. He cupped your breasts and gripped your waist, whispered praise over every part of you his hands touched. 

Then your breath locked in your chest as he reached for his pants. 

“I want you,” he said as he kissed everywhere he could reach on your neck and chest, modest dress doing much to protect you from his lips. 

“We’ll fall,” you whispered, though the church was near empty now. 

“Perhaps I will for you,” Alastor said, smiling at you in a soft promise. If you gave him everything, his smile said, he would give you it all back. You could trust him. “But we will not.” 

“Alright.” 

His smile grew wider at your agreement, hand making quick work of freeing his cock from his pants. The meat of him was long, thick and hard. It didn’t surprise you what men had inside their pants, but you had never seen one that was firm before.

It was strange to see something you had only read the faintest mentions of in person. His hand traveled up and down the length of him as he wrapped his arm around your waist. With seemingly no effort, he pulled you off the pole and rose up on his knees.

Your back hit the pole again, knocking the air from your lungs as he pinned you in place. He shoed your panties aside and then, before you had a chance to think things through or have second thoughts, the soft tip of him was running along your slit.

The feeling was intoxicating. You wanted more after each pass of him as he coated himself in your essence. 

“Are you a virgin,” Alastor asked as his tip nudged against your opening. 

“Y-yes,” you looked away in shame, though you could not place why you felt such shame.

“It won’t hurt,” he promised. “Your body is already slick. It may burn a bit, but you shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts, tell me.” 

“I don’t-” 

A slight burning stretch cut the question off as he pushed the head of his cock inside your body. Never had you put anything inside and now a man, a relative stranger, was pushing deeper and deeper inside you. There was a deep fullness that spread from within your lower abdomen as he filled you. 

A broken gasp fell from your lips as you cling to Alastor, body trembling as the new sensation spread out along your nerves. Deeper and deeper he moved until you could feel the rough fabric of his pants against your inner thighs, belt clicking as it bounced off your leg. 

“Are you alright,” Alastor asked.

You nodded timidly as your legs twitched. Clinging to him, you used Alastor’s frame to ground you. With slow and deliberate moves, Alastor pulled his cock from your body. You tried to follow, terrified of the pleasure as he drug against your inner walls. 

Your attempts meant nothing. Alastor kept you grounded against the pole with strong hands on your hips. The very tip of him was all that remained before he pushed forward, sheathing himself in your wet embrace again. The feeling of being filled replaced the emptiness that had been growing in his absence. 

You gasped at the feeling. “Again,” you pleaded, “Do that again?” 

Alastor laughed lightly, adjusting his hold on you before thrusting into you again and again at a lazy pace. “That is how this works. Don’t worry.” 

You didn’t hear the sass in his voice. You didn’t hear the way he was entertained but otherwise unimpressed by your pleas. All you heard was the soft squelching sound as he filled your body again and again. 

“More,” you begged as you clung to him. 

Alastor looked around, scanning the church below that for anyone that could hear before giving you what you wanted. Each thrust came faster, harder as he pushed your body into the pole again and again. 

Lips latched onto your neck, kissing the soft skin again and again. Your back arched as you chased feelings you lacked the words to put voice to or the ability to understand. Fingers dug into his clothes, nails scratching skin and pulling hair as he drove your body more and more. 

“More,” you begged, not knowing what you were needing more of. 

“I’ve got you,” Alastor said, feeling the way your walls began to flutter, soft caresses along his shaft as he fucked into you more and more.

As if you weighed nothing, he pulled your hips forward, angling them slightly. The new angle, though it was a slight change, had you gasping for breath. There was a soft thump that echoed through the rafters as your head lulled back, hitting the pole. 

“You’re doing so good,” Alastor praised, feeling your walls contract around him stronger now. “So good, just let it happen.” 

You moaned, a series of gasping sounds as the contractions in your core prevented you from taking anything more than gasping breaths of air. Every thrust of him inside you felt like to was too much. Leaning forward, you curled yourself around him as he continued moving in and out of you. 

The scent of him filled your lungs as his pace turned harder, less rhythmic. You could see the pews below you as you looked down at your joined bodies. He could throw you off at any point and you’d fall to your death. The thought made your body clench around him. 

His hands tightened around suddenly, his pace stuttering to a halt. He moaned, a deep, slow sound that reverberated through his chest. You felt a stinging wetness inside you that was foreign, along with the violent twitches of his cock, seeming to try to stir your insides each time he thrust himself to his root. 

“What?” you asked as Alastor pulled from your body, a flood of wetness following him out. “What did you do to me?” 

Your knees snapped closed around his hips as you looked at him with wide eyes. Tears sparkled on your waterline as a deep emptiness ached within you, no longer filled by Alastor. Emotions ran through your heart faster than you could identify as wet slick ran down your folds, dripping off the curve of your ass to disappear somewhere into the church below. 

“Are you going to run off now?” Alastor asked, hand moving lazily over his slowly softening cock, ensuring your eyes landed on him, not allowing you for even a moment to deny what had happened between you. “Tell Father what a sinner I am? The blasphemy I speak when evidence of our sin, committed in the church even, gathers in your panties?”

“What are you talking about?” You tried to scoot away from him, not really having anywhere to go as you watched his hand work over his softening cock, evidence of your combined lust reflecting the dim light. Finally, you could breathe when he put himself away. 

“Are you going to go cast a stone at me for blasphemy without confessing to your own sin of lust? It wouldn’t stay between you and the good Father, I assure you that. Before the week is over, the whole city will know that you lain with a man.”

“Your reputation would-” 

“Be ruined?” He cut you off, laughing coldly at your naivete. “Hardly. No one does more than wag a finger at a man for falling into the trap of lust. A woman though? You’ll be raked through the coals. Wouldn’t you say it’s better to just let sleeping dogs lay?” 

“You’re a disgusting man.” 

“Am I?” Alastor smiled, reaching out and running his hand along your thigh, higher and higher until he snagged the panties still pushed aside and ripped them down your legs. “I’ll take these then. You can feel me run down your legs as a reminder of how vial I am.” 

He didn’t give you an option. After stuffing your panties into his pocket, he pulled you up onto your feet. You cried, angry with him and yourself as he walked you confidently across the beam. Each time you foot slipped, he caught you. His strong chest braced your back. 

You hated him. You hated that you had wanted him. You hated that you had enjoyed what he did to you. 

Most of all, you hated that a part of you wanted to do it again. 

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[navstuffs]

Traffic stop

Pairing: Rookie!Leon Kennedy x BustyF!Reader

Summary: Your sports bra malfunctions during a traffic stop with a shy rookie cop.

Warnings: au obvs, happens in raccoon city, wrote with a busty reader in mind but anyone can read it, shy!leon, accidental exposure, suggestive themes, speeding (DRIVE SAFE PEOPLE!!)

Author's Notes: kudos to my husband for giving me the idea/title. if anyone would like to write a smut version of this, i also wouldn't mind, just let me know! i do have another plan for re2 leon in works cause he is my baby. hope you enjoy your reading!

my leon's masterlist | part 2

It is still hot, you think as you exit the gym after an exhausting leg day. You decide to wear your sports bra while driving home since your car's air conditioner has not worked since you bought it. You always think you will have money to fix it or even buy a new car, but you must work with what you have now.

You sigh, throwing your bag and your shirt on the backseat. The pain in your legs will only worsen, so you decide to drive fast to get home, shower, and relax. And oh, yes, hope the wind provides some sort of comfort on your face. Placing your sunglasses in your eyes, you start going, mentally praying you wouldn't see any cop.

But of course, this isn't your lucky day.

Not even ten minutes on the road, the sound of the siren from a car of Raccoon City P.D. is behind you. You groan an audible no, asking mentally what you did to deserve this.

"Perfect. Great," Your murmur.

You pull into a nearby parking lot, take the paperwork from the glove compartment and throw it in the passenger seat, the air already getting stagnant inside the car, making you sweat.

Your eyes roam to the rearview mirror, wondering where the heck that cop was, when you notice the zipper of your sports bra is half open. You attempt to zip it, but it immediately unzips it again, leaving half of your cleavage exposed. You think it doesn't look bad, so you leave it alone. It is not like you were driving topless anyway.

With droplets of sweat on your forehead, you see the cop coming out in your driver-side mirror. Finally, you think as he takes his sweet time to get to you. He looks young. He seems to take a breath before walking to your car, pulling his pants up and his other hand on his gun, and even someone who doesn't understand anything about cops would know this guy is a rookie.

He approaches slowly and carefully, analyzing your old car, and when he finally stops by your window, the first thing you catch is a pair of innocent blue eyes. Staring right at you.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." You read the name tag Leon Kennedy as his eyes go from your face to your sports bra half open. Officer Leon probably has a great view since your car is on the lower side. He gulps, you don't know if nervousness or something else, then stares directly above your head.

"Afternoon."

"Do you know how fast you were going?" Oh, this one is definitely a rookie, with his voice still showing some nervousness.

"Yeap, I know."

You really don't want to prolong this more than it should, and the way Leon Kennedy seems to stare everywhere except you proves he wants the same.

"Look. I was just trying to get home. Just issue the ticket, and I will be on my way. I will behave, I promise."

That clearly sounded more seductive than you meant to be. You don't judge yourself as a woman who could get out of a ticket by flirting; honestly, you didn't care at this moment. Your whole body is getting sweaty and sticky, with a few drops of sweat coming down from your neck, and your legs are literally pulsating with pain. It is worth trying.

And just for the right timing, you feel a single drop of sweat coming down from your neck to your cleavage. Leon Kennedy's blue eyes follow the trail until the drop disappears inside your bra top, and he gulps, licking his lips.

Well, you may be one of those women who can get away from a ticket by flirting.

"License and breas— I mean, car registration, please."

Leon thanks mentally you don't seem to hear his mispronunciation. You grunt, impatience, turning to grab your documents for Leon. When you turn back at him to hand them, your zipper finally gives up, opening it up completely. It is a nice feeling at first, the same feeling you have from having your boobs released after a long day.

For a moment, you both don't move, too mortified. Officer Leon Kennedy is now staring, really staring, at your boobs. He doesn't even attempt to look away, his face entirely red as a tomato. Your immediate reaction is to try to close the zipper, but it seems it had enough. Leon finally turns around, mumbling an apology.

"I am sorry, I am so sorry, Officer!" You groan as you give up on zipping, going for the shirt under your bag in the back seat. 

"It-it is fine!" Leon rushes to say, his voice going high a few tones. If this wasn't embarrassing as it was, you would have laughed at the poor rookie's reaction. But now, great, you were probably going to be arrested for public indecency. You finally find a towel, a medium one, that might work. You cover yourself as best as you can.

After Leon gives you a few moments of privacy, he turns back to face you, and you know, by the expression on his face, you are doomed. You were probably getting arrested for trying to seduce a cop-out of a ticket. 

"You can go, ma'am."

"What? Like that?" You wonder before stopping yourself.

"Well, y-yeah. I can see you have much bigger problems to deal with it. Have a good day."

Leon gives you one good final look, a strange glow in his eyes. It seems he wants to say something else, but the moment passes. Leon gives you a slight smirk, his face still red, and walks back to his car.

You watch Leon drive away, your gazes somewhat crossing before he disappears into traffic. You sigh, the external heat forgotten, hoping this isn't your last encounter with Leon Kennedy.

[muxshwriting]

blessed to be

Violet Bridgerton x maid!reader

summary: as her maid, you can't help but grow close to the Bridgerton matriarch || word count: 1293 || masterlist

REQUESTED: can you please make a Violet Bridgerton x maid fanfic?? I'm literally so hungry for some Violet fanfics.

Violet Bridgerton needed a new lady’s maid. Her previous maid was getting married and would be released from the household to start her own with her new husband. Therefore, Violet was in need of a new lady’s maid to aid her, leaving the troublesome task to her loyal housekeeper.

A week later, Mrs Wilson approached the drawing room with a woman following behind her. "This is your new lady’s maid Ma’am." She announced.

The woman behind her lowered her head and offered a small smile. Violet returned her smile, introducing herself and learning your name. "I'm sure you'll do splendidly in this household. Mrs Wilson will tend to your needs and show you your duties."

"Yes Ma'am." You hesitated as you turned to leave. "Thank you."

As you settled into your duty, you couldn't help but be grateful for your fortunate position. Yes, you were a maid but you were a maid to one of the wealthiest families in the ton, a family that had (at least) a basic respect for their staff and took care of them. Most importantly, Violet cared. The matriarch would ask your opinion on fabrics and hairstyles and jewellery before deciding.

"What about the emeralds with this dress for Eloise?" Violet softly asked, holding a blush coloured dress.

You scrunched your eyebrows in concentration, weighing up the combination. "Perhaps something less colourful for Eloise? Something like crystal or quartz, perhaps white sapphires. She doesn't wish to stand out by wearing something like emeralds." You suggest, hurriedly adding the honorific at the end, "Ma'am."

Violet thinks for a second before nodding handing the dress back to you to hang up, reaching for a diamond necklace to compare. "I quite agree. Eloise will appreciate your concern." She paused for a moment, "I appreciate your concern."

"Just helping however I can Ma'am."

It was a quiet day where Violet was sitting in the drawing room with her embroidery, and had requested you to join her. You never had time to learn the special embroidery stitches, learning the basics to sew patches into clothing and fix tears. Instead, you carried a few napkins that had sprouted holes, working on them as Violet embroidered.

"Why did you never marry?" Violet began the conversation. The two of you had discussed the topic before, but not the why.

You stuttered out a response. "Having a husband never appealed to me Ma'am. I'm very fortunate that I don't have to marry. I got to focus on my studies, teaching all the local children how to read and write and calculate simple sums. It's not a brilliant education but it's something that quite a few children never get to learn."

Violet smiled. "Perhaps you could finally persuade Hyacinth that her education is important then."

"Nothing will change Miss Hyacinth's mind once she has set it. I'm sure the Governess you employ will do a brilliant job with her education." You laughed slightly. "Besides, I couldn't leave you to-" You cut yourself off, suddenly embarrassed at what you're saying.

Violet isn't bothered. Without looking up from her stitching, she silently reached over a hand to hold yours. Both of you ceased your work, enjoying the silence and comfort of each other's company.

"You're very dear to me Y/N." Violet said quietly, also seeming embarrassed at her own words. "You mean a great deal to the family as well." She was stumbling for the right words to say, dancing around the main subject.

"I feel very fondly of you to Violet." The woman lightly gasped as you said her name gently. You spoke her name, not her title, not ma'am, not mistress. You had called her Violet. Her reaction had you second guessing everything you had ever done as you bundled your napkins into your arms and stood, pulling your hand from hers. "My apologies Ma'am. I shall be in the servant quarters." Your eyes were trained to the ground, inspecting the dust on your shoes. "If you need me for anything, I am simply a call away."

You had just broken one of the biggest class rules of society. Never ever address a person of higher standing by their name. You show respect, you use their title or honorifics, never their name alone and certainly not their first name. By doing so, you were equivocating yourself with her family or her lover.

And you were not either of those things. You couldn't possibly be.

You kept your distance from Violet thereafter, performed your duties perfectly. You never spoke out of turn, offered your opinion only when it was asked for and didn't add any more detail than your mistress required. Violet had an tinge of pity in her eyes whenever she looked at you now and it made your blood boil. You did not need her pity, why was she offering you pity?

In her own mind, Violet was scheming. You thought you were in trouble, that you had overstepped. But Violet wished you would overstep more. She did not mind that you used her name, it stirred a feeling inside of her she had never experienced before, certainly not with another woman. She wanted that feeling to return.

The glowing, pulsing warmth that came when you used her name, when she held your hand. The shivers that tumbled down her spine and sizzled into darkness and dread when you had pulled away. She didn't know what was happening to her, she had never considered anything like this before.

Violet Bridgerton was a mother, she cared for her children above her own needs and desires, right? She had done so for over a decade. But what was stopping her from pursuing her own desires? Anthony was married, there was new Viscountess to herd the Bridgerton debutantes through the marriage mart. Violet could relax, she could breath.

Most importantly, she could chase that consuming feeling she felt when she was with you.

Violet had cornered you in her bedchambers after getting dressed, asking to speak with for a moment. You kept your head down, terrified that you would lose what you had started to cherish, this family and her.

"I don't know how to say what I want to say correctly." She began.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the conversation led down a vastly different path than what you had thought.

"But I cannot remain silent." She continued, taking a deep breath and wringing her hands together. "There is a feeling, deep in my chest, whenever I am with you. It is like a string pulling me towards you and filling my heart with warmth and love and-"

"The feeling like you cannot breath when they are not near. The world seems to slow and mysteries make sense..." You trail off with uncertainty after interrupting her, trying to help her find the words.

"Do you feel it?" Violet had taken a step toward you, her hands hovering by her side, begging to reach out and hold yours.

Silently, you indulge her, reaching forward and taking her hands in yours. Instantly, it's like there is a weight that had been lifted. "This feeling is why I could never marry." You whisper to her, sharing your secret. "There has never been a man to make me feel this way."

Violet sighed. "It was different with Edmund. He was my everything, possessing my every thought and corrupting my mind. He was the air that we breathed, when he- When he died, I locked that feeling away, never wanting to be hurt that way again. I continued to live for the sake of my children, teaching them that love is worth all the pain it might bring."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You don't hurt me my dear." She confessed. "You heal me."

the request is finally here!!! I've got a few others in my inbox rn and I promise I'm getting to them. I just got back from a stunning cruise around the mediterranean so am just settling back into my work routine for the summer x

[disco-archetypes]

YOU - "Ma'am, I am a renowned private investigator, a paragon of law and a specialist in all things criminal."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant shoots you a sideways glance. "And I am his private partner, John... Shao. Together we run the pre-eminent spousal surveillance firm in Revachol."

YOU - "We are truly private in our partnership."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Once we've caught our client's spouse *in flagrante delicto*, we blackmail them and pocket the money ourselves, because that's what private investigators do. Now, I see that *you* are a married woman..."

RHETORIC - Some penetrating sarcasm from your colleague there.

PLAISANCE - "What nonsense are you two going on about? This is not relevant at all. And besides," her lip curls in disgust, "*my* husband would never do such a thing. We are proper people."

YOU - "Mind your manners, John. This isn't the great Shao Empire, where you can talk about sex stuff so openly!"

PLAISANCE - "This is preposterous, a waste of my time and of no help to anyone." She looks displeased.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Our sincere apologies, ma'am. No more nonsense. We're offering to assist you with your troubles, *pro bono*." Despite his apologies, there's a twinge of amusement in the lieutenant's eye.

[peachymilkandcream]

My Husband, My Monster|Part 1|William Afton x Wife!Reader

(A/N: So this is the fandom that won the poll! I'll try and keep these and Break Me Slowly regular, but still feel free to give me requests for both in my inbox, I do oneshots and headcanons as well as I'll answer your questions and comments! (Please just read the rules first) I think I have a general timeline and idea of the lore [It's FNAF lore it's complicated as fuck] so I'm going with my best guess on things. Hope you guys enjoy!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, power imbalance, age difference, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere themes, yandere behaviours, domestic violence, misogyny, violence, William's a warning himself, etc.

=============================================

Who knew that a bit of twisted words and cash made all of your problems go away? William had struggled to stay open with Henry Emily's company showing such strides in mechanical technology. He was still wearing homemade cloth suits while his rival had dancing puppets that children adored. His dreams and ideas were being stolen right out from under him in his eyes, rolling in mountains of debt and the threat of closing down looming over his head. They were his characters, his dream, his business idea, and the bastard had to steal it and make it better. Even though he had bought William out of debt all those years back, it didn't change the sting of defeat when the two businesses merged.

Now he didn't regret it, Fredbear's Family Diner was just starting out but it was already projected to be a success. His characters took centre stage and had never been more alive, delighting young and old alike, his legacy started now.

Which is when he noticed the girl sitting at a table with her friend, they were giggling and laughing together over some inside joke. William had always had a soft spot for pretty girls, his more reckless years spent taking what women offered him freely, now he didn't have the time.

However for this girl he might just be able to make the time.

Casually he walks over, pretending to just be passing by, when he spies the job application she's filling out on the table and catching snippets of their conversation.

"I'm just saying, you're not going to have time for school while getting even a part time job." The friend was saying this, a slightly concerned expression on her face. "And now offence, you're not the brightest bulb, you need all the time to study that you can get."

"Well thanks." She mutters, giggling slightly. "But I can't afford college with my situation now. Mom and Dad agreed to pay for most of it, but-" She hesitates with a blush. "I want the full college experience."

"Ooh~" Her friend seems intrigued. "My best friend finally loosing her innocence? Scandalous."

She scoffs. "Look I just haven't found the right guy yet, it'll happen when it happens."

At this William can't help but interject. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but glance over your shoulder and see you're applying for a job here."

She meets his eyes, and man was he a sucker for a pretty face. "Yeah I am, are you a manager here?"

He chuckles a little. "No actually, I'm the owner." While co-owner was technically true he liked to tell people he owned it solely to give himself an ego boost. "If you wanted, I could do the interview right here."

"Wait really?"

"Actually, she's fine, thanks, she's going to get a job with my mom or something. Come on let's go-" Her friend slides out of the booth, trying to drag the woman with her.

"Well I'm going to be brutally honest with you here ma'am, for a girl your age your options are going to be extremely limited. And even though the pay isn't great it's a great experience."

She stops, considering his words before waving off her friend. "Go ahead, I think I'll still fill it out, never hurts."

"If you'd like I can interview you right now, save some time."

"Oh wow that would be awesome-"

"Seriously? Listen, this guy gives me a weird feeling, let's just go okay? And I'll find you something better." The friend again reaches for her to come along, but the girl refuses.

"I'm serious, go on and I'll tell you how it went later."

With a huff her friend leaves, a clearly annoyed expression evident on her face.

William regains his composure before sitting across from her. "So, a job. Tell me what you can do." He crosses his hands on the table in front of her, a smile easily coming to his face.

"Well, I was thinking I would be a good server, I'm good with people, especially kids, and I love to clean. I can cook pretty well too but I think something at this scale would be too much for me." She laughs a little, clearly trying to ease a little nervousness.

He joins in on her laughter, hoping to make her comfortable around him, since that's what he wanted. "I suppose that's fair. Out of curiosity, why is it you want this job?" She was hired already, that he knew, a pretty face with a nice ass? What more could you want from an employee?

"Well I'm in college, and I want to be able to afford just some extras to really experience that life before it's too late."

"College?" He feigns interest, in his opinion all she was doing was wasting her most fertile years and her money. If she's halfway decent at any of her qualifications then she'd easily find a rich enough man like him, pop out a few kids and have a truly fulfilling life. "Can I ask what for?"

"Psychology, the human mind has always fascinated me."

"Oh yes definitely." He suppresses an eye roll, even more of a useless degree, maybe he could help this girl from throwing her life away because she thinks deep thoughts will make her money. "Then I should ask for your class schedule for hours."

"Right, I always keep it with me because I'm always forgetting." She giggles again, pulling it out of her purse and handing it to him. "I cannot work these times but anything else I'm there."

Wanting these hours to know when not to schedule this girl was the last thing on William's mind. "Well I'll do what I can, but it's not that easy, you have to be flexible in the real world."

"Of course, I understand that sir."

"William, call me William. My grandfather was sir and my father was Mr. Afton, so I'm just William." He flashes another smile, coaxing one from her lips as well.

"Alright, William." She tests his name out on her tongue with a soft smile and a subtle blush, the poor girl clearly hasn't been within five feet of a man before.

"Now Miss, have you had any work experience prior to this?"

"No, I haven't, this sounds entitled but I've never really had the need to up until now?"

"There's nothing wrong with that, although I'll need to teach you the proper dynamic between employee and employer. But I trust that won't be a problem, right?"

"Not at all sir-er-William. I'm more than happy to learn."

"Good, all you need to know is that I'm your friend, but I have authority over you so you need to follow what I say without question."

"Why without question?"

Oh she was so naive. "Insubordination, it's grounds with which you can be fired. So best not to stray too far towards that right?" He winks.

"Absolutely-" She shivers slightly.

"Then if that's it..." He draws the moment out for it to seem authentic. "Welcome to Fredbear's Family Diner and we're happy to have you on the team." He extends a hand to shake, which she grasps eagerly, her rows of white teeth on full display.

"Oh thank you so much! When do I start?"

"We'll have you start next week, let's say, Monday."

"That's perfect, that's so perfect-" She glances at the door. "I really should go, I think I've pissed her off enough as it is, thank you for your time." She shakes his hand and hurries out the door.

"Oh trust me, don't worry about it." He watches her go, a small smile coming to his face.

This was just the beginning.

[zablife]

Michael's Wedding Gift

Requested by @peakyswritings for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

A/N: For added effect play "A Heart Made of Yarn" by Franz Gordon while reading.

The new Mrs. Shelby nuzzled her cheek against the course hairs of Tommy's chest, eyelids shut tight to keep in the tears that threatened to overspill. Her breath caught in her throat as she whispered, "I don't understand why he isn't allowed to come to the party?"

Tommy moved to sit up in bed and his wife scrambled to find a place at his side. What had she done that was so wrong, inviting his cousin inside for tea when he arrived unannounced? He was the only relative to congratulate them in the month they'd been married.

As Tommy caught sight of the tear rolling down his wife's cheek, he softened. "If I'd known you wanted him here, he would have been invited, but Michael is going back to Boston in the morning. It couldn't be helped," he answered, brushing the tear away with the pad of his thumb. A deep chuckle rose from inside his chest as he asked, "What's so special about Michael anyhow? We're expecting at least fifty other guests who will be more than happy to coo at your gorgeous gown from Paris."

Mrs. Shelby sniffled as she replied, "It's not that. He was kind to me," she recalled, thinking of Michael's warm, brown eyes and unassuming nature which made her feel at ease around him. She learned that he was relatively new to the family business which gave them something to bond over. He wasn't brash, but shy and quiet like her and the kinship they forged was something she held dear despite the short time spent together.

"There will be other parties, love," Tommy assured her with a kiss to the top of her head. She held to that promise, dreading the evening before them because she understood the Shelbys could be an unforgiving lot.

--------------------------

As Mrs. Shelby greeted the arriving guests, she shifted nervously in her high heels and nuzzled closer to her husband's side. Despite the warm summer evening, there was a distinct chill radiating from the glacial stares of Tommy's friends and family. Apparently, not one found her worthy of the great Thomas Shelby, MP OBE. Sensing his wife's nervousness, Tommy gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she willed herself not to give up so soon.

As she turned to accept a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, she locked eyes with Tommy's man Isaiah. He swaggered toward her purposefully as he deposited a key into her hand.

"What's this?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"A wedding gift, compliments of Mr. Michael Gray," he said with a bow.

"A car?" she asked incredulously.

"You must have made quite an impression," Isaiah remarked.

"I wouldn't say that, but he was understanding of my situation," Mrs. Shelby replied, staring at the key which sat heavy in her palm.

"Whatever you say, ma'am," Isaiah agreed, turning his back to her.

"Isaiah, wait. I was wondering something," she asked with genuine concern. A thought had been plaguing her mind since tea. She hadn't wanted to make Tommy's cousin self conscious asking about his obvious limp, but she couldn't reconcile it seeing that Michael was far too young to be a war veteran. "I was hoping you might know what happened to Michael's leg?"

Isaiah's eyebrow twitched with a hint of mischief and he bowed his head to whisper, "Reckon Tommy don't want you to know, but his cousin's a nutter. Blew up the wishing well in his village with dynamite when he was a boy and got caught in the explosion."

Mrs. Shelby's hand flew to her mouth in panic. Surely the man she'd been speaking with a day earlier wasn't capable of such things. "My God," was all she could utter.

Isaiah gave a nod as guests filed past them, unaware of Mrs. Shelby's distress as he continued the grizzly tale. "That's not all. He got a taste for it after that. Set fire to the little farmhouse where he lived and the family who took him in burnt in their beds," he said, lips curling into a wicked sneer, delighted by the reaction he received.

Then he added one last threat for good measure. “Stay on his good side, Mrs. Shelby. Perhaps convince your husband to bring him back from his exile in America? Michael wasn’t pleased about that,” he said ominously.

Mrs. Shelby felt her heart racing and palms sweating as she looked around wildly for Tommy. As she spied him coming closer, she grabbed for him with trembling hands, a way to anchor herself in a sea of confusion and terror.

"There's my lovely wife," he beamed. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked seeing her ashen face.

"Can we go?" she begged, desperate to be rid of the unpleasant company. "There's something I'd like to show you," she said, holding up the key.

"Of course," Tommy replied, placing an arm securely around her waist.

"Michael's given us a wedding gift," Mrs. Shelby announced, gesturing toward a beautiful new Bentley parked in the drive. "What do you make of that?"

"It's a very nice automobile," Tommy conceded through clenched teeth, shoving his hands into his pockets hastily. "Shall we join our guests now?" he urged, turning to leave.

"Tommy, is Michael...dangerous?" his wife called to him, his foot frozen on the top stair. Before she had time to dissuade herself, she ran to him and confided everything Isaiah told her.

"People like to make up stories because Michael was away for many years, but it's nothing more than idle gossip,” he explained with a wave of his hand.

"Tommy, I must insist you take this seriously. Tell me you haven’t sent Michael to Boston to punish him. That he has no reason to quarrel with you,” his wife urged, voice bordering on hysteria.

Tommy's hands clasped her face between his large palms, icy blue irises fixating on hers in a hypnotizing stare as he promised, “Of course not, it’s only business," he swore. "Do you believe me?"

She nodded slowly, placing a hand over his. Her Tommy wouldn't lie or make false promises. She had complete faith and trust in her husband in that moment. She took his arm as he offered it out to her and walked confidently into dinner, knowing he would protect her from harm.

It would be the last time she was seen alive. The next morning as she placed the key in the ignition of her shiny new automobile, the engine suddenly exploded, tearing and twisting the metal into an unrecognizable ball of flame. As the smoke billowed up to the heavens, Tommy raced to the wreckage, finding a note on his doorstep left by his embittered cousin.

"Congratulations, Tommy. I understand why you eloped with this beautiful creature and left us all to fend for ourselves. Tell me, has she ever looked more lovely than she does now?"

-------------

Tag List:

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@flysafepapi

@the-makingsofgreatness

@noforkingclue

[autumn-foxfire]

As I was writing this I realised, weird it is. I like Aoko and so I like her mom but this chapter in hindsight was trying to overexplain.

Spoilers

So the new Magic Kaito chapter is similar in small ways to that birthday chapter. It's Midoriko's 40th birthday and Nakamori is a no show though he went to great lengths to book a table at a fancy restaurant for the three of them according to Aoko. Aoko exclaims for the first time in front of her mom about Kaito Kid who has no idea who that is and despite being hyperobservant she keeps misremembering the phrase Kaito Kid. Theres a meta joke that makes no sense in-universe where Ke says she thought Aoko's mom died since she hasn't seen her in forever. Aoko and her mom barely get to talk on most days because mom being the district prosecutor goes to work early(after making breakfast and a packed lunch for Aoko, Ginzo and sometimes Kaito) and comes home after Aoko's gone to sleep and her being extremely workaholic and sleep deprived she sleeps whole day on her holidays. And because she and the inspector fought a lot over work early in their marriage they made a pact to not talk about work at home at all(one assumes they do talk or communicate although this chapter...). She has seen some news clips of Kaito Kid and thought he was some circus act(Ma'am...your husband features in most of those clips) and at once rattles off a list of offences he should have been charged with. And asks why he hasn't been arrested yet😅. But most importantly she is determined to put him in jail because he made her Gin-chan miss his birthday dinner (if only you knew about the last 20 years...). And thereafter she starts concocting a Conan style plan with Aoko's help while Kaito is a bit scared of the challenge because she once figured out the mechanism to baby Kaito's magic trick easily.

(As for Nakamori I get the feeling that the later him, especially the one in Conan, changed somewhere. The early him was quite like Kogoro in all the drinking and womanizing and antics. In that sense Magic Kaito's continuity is a bit off(not to mention it used to be 1990 and now it's set in the era of smartphones) but poor Aoko has two parents obsessed about their work.

He overexplained because he knows he hasn't set up her mom being in the picture at all and is trying to course correct. However he also wants them to have a healthy relationship, something that just isn't possible with the set up he went with. If he really needed her mom to exist, why couldn't she have been working overseas to explain her absence? Or be estranged from her family and use these chapters to reunite the family unit?

It's a weird choice and I think it's just a good example of his poor writing choices at times.

[cherrycola27]

To Hec and Back

Pairing: Hangman x Reader (Call Sign Hecate)

Warnings: Language, childhood trauma, physical violence.

Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Part 7

"What if they don't like me when they meet me in person, Jake?" You asked him as he drove you from the airport to his family ranch. It had been a month since Jake had proposed to you, and you both had time off to finally come to Texas and meet his family in person.

"My parents already love you. My younger sister is going to love you too." He assures you as he pats your thigh.

"What about your older sister and her husband?" You ask him.

Jake sighs. "Bryan is a great guy. How he puts up with Savannah, I will never know. I can't wait for you to meet their kids, though. Carter and Sloan are the coolest." Jake smiles. "I'm sure I will get along great with your niece and nephew." You smile back at him.

"Our niece and nephew Hec." He corrects you while tracing his thumb over your engagement ring.

Mr. and Mrs. Seresin or Elaine and JT, as they have insisted you call them, hug both of you as you come in. Their house is spectacular. It's bigger than one you could have ever dreamed of. You knew Jake came from money, but it wasn't something that he openly advertised.

The afternoon is spent with his mom and his younger sister Charlotte, or Charli, talking your ears off. You didn't mind it, though. You didn't have this growing up, and it was nice.

Everyone seemed to be in a good mood until Savannah came. Her husband Bryan greeted you warmly but was sure he had met you before. You told him you must have one of those faces.

Carter, Jake's five year old nephew and Sloan, his three year old niece, were so happy to see their uncle again.

"Carter, Sloan, I want you to meet someone. This Y/N, she flys big planes like Uncle Jake, and I'm going to marry her." He tells them. Sloan climbs up to you, with wide eyes. "You fwy the big pwanes?"She asks, you. "I sure do." You smile at her.

"Do you fly as good as Uncle Jake?" Carter asks, climbing up on your lap beside his sister.

"Better." You say causing everyone to laugh.

"So if you are going to marry Uncle Jake, does that make you Aunt Y/N? Like Aunt Charli?" Carter asks. He's pretty smart to be so young. "I guess it does." You tell him. Savannah shoots you a dirty look.

"Hi Aunty Y/N," Sloan squeals. "She isn't your aunt yet." Savannah snaps, grabbing her.

"Wow, Sav, way to kill the mood." Charli scoffs.

"Well, I'm just saying. You've been dating her what? Six months JJ, and now you're engaged? Why the rush? Did you get her pregnant?" Savannah asks with ice in her voice.

"Sav!" Charli and Elaine scold her had the same time.

"No, Savannah, she isn't pregnant. We love each other and aren't afraid to go after what we want." Jake defends you as you press closer to his side.

"And what kind of call sign is Hecate? Isn't she like a witch or something?" Savannah continues to berate you.

"Actually, in Greek mythology, she's known as a touch barer, a bringer of light in darkness." You try to tell her. You wish you could change her mind, but you can already tell that Savannah had made up her mind about you.

"Well I for one, think it's lovely, different, inspiring." Elaine states.

"Now, Hecate, darling, I'm not sure what you and JJ have planned for the wedding, bur you're more than welcome to get married here on the ranch, or we can fly out to San Diego if that's what you prefer." Elaine smiles at you.

"Thank you, we haven't talked about it much." You tell her.

"Well, I would love it if I could have your mother's phone number so I could talk to her about some details!" Elaine says.

Your shoulders drop. Jake feels you stiffen beside him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that—that one be possible." You swallow thickly.

"Oh, darling, has she passed?" Elaine softens.

"No ma'am. I—I don't know who she is. I grew up in the system. Spent my whole life being bounced around between foster care and group homes. That's why I joined the Navy. I wanted some stability." You hang your head at the confession.

Jake rubs soothing circles on your back. He knows how hard it is for you to talk about your childhood.

"Well," Elaine says, taking your hand. "You might not have had a family then, but you have one now."

"Absolutely, honey." JT, Jake's father, agrees.

"Wow! Way to go JJ, you picked a charity case for a bride!" Savannah scoffs. "How do you know she isn't with you for your money."

"I—I'm not, I would never—" You try to defend yourself. Jake stands up and turns to face her, but before he can open his mouth, Charli stands up in front of her sister.

"Savannah, if you could just not be a a bitch for like five minutes that would be great. I get that you think you're better than everyone else and that the five years before Jake was born were the best years of your life, but damn! Give the girl a break. Not everyone grew up as fortunate as we were!" Charli tells her.

"Your sister is exactly right, Savannah. You should be happy for your brother." Their father states

"Exactly. You should be happy he has found a wonderful woman." Their mom finishes.

"I'm just a concerned big sister watching out for her baby brother. Don't you get that JJ?" Savannah whines.

"I'm thirty years old, I don't need you to baby me." Jake deadpans.

"All I'm saying is before you walk down the aisle, make sure she signs a pre-nup." Savannah shoots back.

"Just like how you made Bryan?" Jake grits.

"Bryan didn't have to sign one because he's with me for love." Savannah tells him.

"He definitely isn't with you for your personality." Charli snickers.

"Bryan, it's late. We need to get home and put the kids to bed." Savannah huffs before turning on her heel to leave. Bryan tells everyone good night and ushers his children to leave.

"Bye Nana, bye PopPop, bye Aunt Charli, bye Uncle Jake, bye Aunt Hecate!" Carter calls before leaving.

When you hear the door shut, you take a deep breath.

"Don't listen to Savannah, she'll come around. She's always been the difficult one." JT tells you.

"What dad is trying to say is, Savannah is a bitch." Charli laughs.

"Charlotte Grace!" Her mother scolds. "It's true, mom, and you know it." Jake laughs.

"Well, it's getting late, and I'm sure the two of you want to rest after traveling today. We've converted your old room into a guest room JJ, dear. There should be towels and everything you need up there." Elaine informs you.

"Thanks, Mom. Goodnight." Jake tells them as he leads to two of you upstairs.

"Goodnight, everyone!" You call down the stairs.

Once the two of you are inside the safety of the guest room, you sigh. "That could have gone better." You tell Jake.

"Hec, baby, Mom, Dad, Charli, and the kids love you. That's all I care about. Savannah has a stick up her ass. I promise she will be better at brunch on Sunday because our grandmother will be there. Savannah has always been a better person around her." Jake says as he beings to undress.

"Care to join me in the shower?" He wags his eyebrows at you.

"Just a shower, we aren't doing any funny business under your parents' roof." You tell him.

"Might have to sneak you out to the barn or the back of the truck I rented. Can't go two weeks without having my best girl." Jake whispers against your ear before whisking you into the bathroom.

Saturday is spent shopping and getting mani-pedis with Elaine and Charli, Jake, and his father spend the day taking care of a few things on the ranch. You all meet up for dinner and you finally start to feel like one of them.

You're hopeful for Sunday.

You made sure to put on the new dress Elaine and Charli helped you pick out yesterday. You've done simple hair and makeup and have a bright smile on your face.

Jake's grandmother Dorothea, or Grammy Seresin, as she insisted, is one of the sweetest women you have ever met. She fawns over your engagement ring as she tells you about the ring that the smaller diamonds in it came from. She pinches Jake's cheeks and tells him what a good job he has done.

Grammy Seresin doesn't leave your side, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Savannah. She's clenching her mimosa glass so hard that it could shatter.

Everyone is talking about wedding plans and brunch is going well until Savannah speaks.

"You know JJ, speaking of wedding plans, you won't have to hire any entertainment for your bachelor party." She beings.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake questions her. There's no way Savannah could know... is there? He thinks.

"I mean, why would you pay for it when apparently, you're already getting it for free." Savannah continues. She smirks, looking from Jake to you. Your heart drops.

"Savannah, don't." Jake warns her.

"Don't what, JJ? Tell everyone that you're marrying a stripper?" She says, with venom in her voice.

"Savannah Marie!" Elaine shouts, "How dare you say something like that about her!"

You shrink into your seat. You can feel the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

"I'm only telling the truth, Mother." Savannah drawls out. "Remember how Bryan said that she looked familiar? It's because she was an 'entertainer' at his bachelor party!" Savannah shouts.

"Jake, is this— is this true?" Elaine asks, looking from you to him.

"Yes, Ma'am." You choke out. "Like I told you, I grew up in the system. When I first joined the Navy, I needed a way to support myself. Dancing helped me when no one else would. Later, I did it because I enjoyed it. I stopped after Jake and I became serious." You confess with tears streaming down your cheeks.

Everyone is silent for a moment before Savannah starts laughing.

"Wow! JJ! You sure know how to pick them. You're marrying a whore! You—" Savannah doesn't get to say anything else because Charli jumps up from her chair and slaps her across the face.

Shouting breaks out among the family. You can hear Jake defending you.

It's all too much. Everyone is too busy to notice you slip out of the dining room and up the stairs.

You quickly grab your things and the keys to Jake's rental. You slink into the garage, unnoticed. Everyone is still too busy fighting. You start up the truck and head down the drive.

You aren't sure where you are going, but you can't stay here.

You were a fool to think that this would work, that you could fit in with these people.

It takes everyone a full thirty minutes to calm down. Savannah had been kicked out of the house. Jake's parents and grandmother assure him that they fully support his decision to marry you because they love you and how happy you make him.

Jake is the first to notice you aren't in the dining room anymore.

He searches the first floor and can't find you. Soon, he, Elaine, and Charli are checking the house for you. JT goes to search the patio and backyard. You're nowhere to be found.

Jake runs up to the guest room. Your things are gone.

He comes back downstairs to the living room with tears in his eyes.

He has something in his hand. He sits down on the couch and places it on the coffee table. The only thing you left behind:

Your engagement ring.

Eeeekkk, I hope yall enjoyed this chapter and the drama! I lured you back in with the spice, just to paralyze you once again!

Tag List: @pisupsala @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @youlightmeupfinn @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @caitsymichelle13 @lillyrosenight @callsign-hummingbird @inky-sun @writeroutoftime @afterglowsb-tch13 @heyoimjordy @phoenixssugarbaby @hypatia93 @bradshawseresinbabe @je-suis-prest-rachel @teacupsandtopgun @boringusername3 @starlightstories @daggerspare-standingby @utterlyhopeful-fics @talkfastromance4 @fighterpilothoe @t-nd-rfoot @phoenix1388 @abaker74 @peppizzathief @gigisimsonmars @emorychase @wannabeschyulersister @greatszu @shawnsblue @angelbabyange @sadpetalsstuff @softmullet @cowboybarbie @shewritesfiction13 @sweetlittlegingy @rogersbarnesxx

[pennzance]

"Madam President, a quick question?"

"Sure, Bob. What is it?"

"I heard your granddaughter broke her wrist. How is she?"

"Ah, well, Bob, on the record you know I don't discuss my family much. Off the record, she's fine. In a cast up past her elbow, but fine."

"Didn't she break her wrist earlier this year?"

"Yeah, back in March. She broke the other one this time."

"Wow. Kids, huh?"

"Yes, kids. They get into situations like this all on their own. Isn't it great that we live in a world where children can be children and get casts and break the occasional bone without it being the subject of some outlandish conspiracy theory that makes my daughter-in-law out to be some sort of monstrous she-demon who beats her children and drinks their tears to keep herself young and capable of having just, like, ALL of the abortions her non-existant government healthcare can provide as she sleeps around on her husband, MY SON, totally under my nose despite the fact that the CIA answers to me and I would absolutely know because I have obviously tasked that organization with watching every single American on the planet and policing them for, and I goddamn quote, 'wrong think'?"

"You saw the Enquirer, I take it ma'am?"

"Nice to see your lesson on sarcasm stuck, Bob."

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

The Concierge Is Confronted (Part 39)

The presence of a Harbinger in the City rightfully puts the Manager on edge. The call for a Global Meeting is put on ice temporarily, even though the news coming from New York begins to worsen.

John Wick - missing. The Bowery King - dethroned and presumably dead. And Winston Scott and the Hotel - in the High Table's crosshairs for daring to stand against them.

It seems Casablanca has not been spared either, though the High Table has not come for Sofia Al-azwar's head yet.

"We must be careful not to draw their attention," the Manager whispers to you one morning as you prepare the missives to be sent out. "But we can only wait so long."

You look at the missives, penned in your hand and looking like ordinary accounts and invoices. Forged, of course, to look nothing like a call for a Global Meeting. You have become very good at that, despite how long it takes you to make each one, despite the pain in your hands afterwards that makes it hard to even twitch your fingers.

"Is a distraction needed?" you ask her, still folding the letters into their envelopes.

She looks at you. At first with curiosity, then with a knowing smile. "The Monster Family."

You press aching fingers to the lip of the envelope, sealing it. "The Carta have made themselves a very tempting target." You're sure neither Toriel nor her former husband have forgotten them, least of all Sans.

"So they have," the Manager purrs, leaning close to gather the missives that you've already folded and sealed. "I think you'll find a convenient messenger to pass that message on, yes?"

A pause. You look at her dead in the eyes as you hand the last envelope to her. "If you're referring to Sans--"

She titters behind the missives, waving them to fan her face. "Why! That your mind turns immediately to him is rather interesting, my Heart~"

Oh, the urge to throw your hands in the air is great.

"But no." She spares you the indignity of such a gesture. "I think that's Mister Papyrus coming up the stairs."

What. You step away from her desk to peer out the window, reflexively standing so you wouldn't be seen from outside. Indeed, that's the Great and Terrible Papyrus taking the front steps in long, easy strides, his car being driven away by a valet. The scowl fixed upon his face doesn't look any different than usual, but there's just something in the way that he's moving that seems...out of place.

"Shall I go greet him, ma'am?"

She smiles at you. You don't like that smile. Like she knows something you don't. "You definitely should," she purrs, neatening the envelopes in her hand. "Leave these to me, my Heart. Go enjoy yourself."

What.

You narrow your eyes at her, only to have her smile innocently at you. Fine. With an incline of your head, you stride out of her office and make it down to the lobby. You'll find out soon enough.

At your counter, a receptionist is busy conversing with a scowling Papyrus.

"I'm looking for the Concierge," he growls down at your relief receptionist, who does a good job of remaining stalwart in the face of his fanged scowl.

"The Concierge is currently away, sir. If you would make yourself comfortable, I will alert the Concierge to your presence."

"No need," you say evenly as you round the corner. Papyrus seems to brighten up a little as you come into view, or as far as he can anyway, considering the way his face is permanently fixed into a glower. "Mister Papyrus, how can I help?"

Your relief receptionist slinks away the moment you give them the go ahead. You imagine dealing with an ornery Papyrus wouldn't be a fun experience.

The towering skeleton monster glares down at you, his hands folded behind his back. "I wish to speak to you."

You blink up at him.

"Alone."

You look around. For the time of day, the lobby is practically empty save for a bellboy carting some luggage around.

Papyrus sighs in aggravation. "In private," he bites out.

Well, isn't that odd. You tilt your head as best you can, considering that you're looking up at the tall man. "Certainly." The Lounge would be a good place. "If you would follow me."

The Lounge hasn't changed from the last time you led a skeleton monster here. It hasn't been that long, perhaps a few months, but it seems little in the grand scheme of things. Particularly for you, when the days seem to meld into one another.

Papyrus drifts to the other side of the room as you close the doors behind you to ensure no sound escapes. By habit alone, you move behind the counter of the little bar, hands clasped in front of your belly. "Would you like a drink, Mister Papyrus?"

The towering skeleton stops. Spins around on his heel. And bites out, "I SAW WHAT YOU DID WITH MY LAZY, GOOD FOR NOTHING BROTHER."

A blink. A slow tilt of your head. "Oh?" The memory of that night springs to mind. The smell of damp asphalt along with cherry smoke and mustard, the heavy taste of magic. A red glow bouncing off a brick wall marred by claw marks. Soft moans and a loud caterwaul, a baritone voice begging you.

Papyrus pauses for a moment. Waiting for something.

You don't give it to him.

He grits his teeth and paces like a caged tiger. "SAY SOMETHING."

Hmm. "And I saw you."

The bright crimson glow of magic engulfs Papyrus' entire angular face. In perhaps a very uncharacteristic display of emotion, Papyrus sputters and throws his head back in shock at your words. "YOU--HOW DID YOU--"

Did he not notice you looking at him at the very end? You distinctly recall turning your head to facilitate that. "Your blush was very...bright." Something else was very bright, too.

Papyrus staggers back into the wall, clutching at his chest like it were pearls. "THAT IS--" Then he coughs, clears his throat, and rallies himself. Or tries to. The blush on his face is still bright as ever. "IT IS COMPLETELY...COMPLETELY..." Oh, the blush seems to grow brighter, his eye lights going slightly fuzzy around the edges. "SALACIOUS. PERVERTED. VULGAR. UTTERLY SHAMELESS--IN A DIRTY, FILTHY ALLEY OF ALL PLACES--"

A smug smile tugs at the corner of your lips and sheer will keeps them down to a polite one instead. But the warming of your dead, even eyes cannot be missed. "And yet, you were watching for quite a while. Weren't you, Mister Papyrus?"

The little 'eep' that comes out from him shouldn't be as adorable as it is. Tall, built, menacing Papyrus turned into this outraged, scandalised man who has to lean against the wall to stop himself from...you don't really know what. But he does have his back pressed against the wall, his skeletal hand clutching at his vest.

You tilt your head to the side. "Was it not you?"

Now you've got him backed into a corner. As far as you know, Papyrus isn't the sort of man to lie. Or enjoy lying.

So he just sputters and waves his hands around. Eventually, he growls and clenches his fists, snarling, "FINE. IT WAS ME. THERE, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED?!"

Hmm, that's a battle won.

"I want to know why you stayed," you say evenly, taking a bottle of Papyrus's favourite drink from the shelf and pouring him a glass. "Why you watched."

Oh, there goes a supernova of a blush on his face again. You let forth a little chuckle and slide the glass forward, motioning with a gloved hand to the seat before you. "Mister Papyrus. Have a seat."

Like a dejected puppy, the skeleton monster pushes off the wall and stomps over to the barstool in front of you. He sits as petulantly as one could, slamming his fists on either side of the offered drink. The glower on his face is only eclipsed by the furious blush turning his skull into a red light bulb. And is that--ah, he sits too quickly for you to verify that it is indeed the beginnings of a tent in his trousers.

"Have a sip," you start, waving to the glass.

Though he glares at you, Papyrus nevertheless takes the glass in his hand and raises it to his fanged maw.

Oh, this is going to be interesting. Very interesting indeed.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers West Coast #50: RETURN of the HERO

November, 1989

I'm sure that someone was asking for this but I couldn't guess who.

Look.

The thing about the robot Human Torch is that he's just less interesting than Johnny Storm human Human Torch.

Marvel brings back Jim Hammond a lot but he never sticks around because he's just not super interesting.

But its pretty blatantly obvious that John Byrne wants him back, given how he's taken a crowbar to Vision's character to justify it and has had Captain America and Namor start talking unprompted about how cool it would be if robot Human Torch came back.

So, it's happening.

You really want this, John Byrne, so lets see how it plays out.

Last times in Avengers West Coast: a lot. Scarlet Witch got kidnapped by a Texas college and stuffed full of ooze until she went evil. The ooze was defeated by the Great Lakes Avengers but Wanda still has the mutant supremacy memories it jammed in her and she's not sure how it may affect her.

Also, some lady was teased as coming to the Avengers on robot Human Torch related business and now she's here.

That subplot progressed a lot more quickly than I thought it would.

If it was Englehart still, we'd be looking at four teases before she ever got anywhere.

Because John Byrne hates me personally, there's a two-page spread of the Avengers West Coast all eyeing the lady with varying amounts of suspicion and sympathy. And weirding them all out, US Agent who speaks to the woman with patience and empathy.

US Agent: "All right now, ma'am, calm down. Take it easy. The Avengers were created to help people in distress. But you've got to tell us your story slowly... clearly..."

I'm honestly surprised US Agent is in the book. He just seemed to disappear after Tigra hit on him.

The woman explains that she is Ann Raymond, widow of Thomas Raymond, aka Toro, aka the robot Human Torch's partner/sidekick.

Toro is dead. He died during a battle between Namor and the Mad Thinker.

Namor came and told Mrs Raymond himself. And she believed it until she heard the news that Vision wasn't made out of Human Torch.

(Again: Why did you announce that to the press, the Avengers??)

Wanda gets immediately hostile when Mrs Raymond mentions the Vision/Human Torch thing. I presume she's sick of this subplot by this point.

Scarlet Witch: "Calm myself? How can I calm myself when the whole world has gone completely insane?! Isn't it bad enough that I've had to see my husband dismantled... his mind erased... isn't it bad enough that a group trying to use me to find a way to possess all the other mutants on Earth used the Vision's condition as their avenue of approach to lure me into their clutches... Now this madwoman wants to implicate the Vision in the death of her husband?"

Wonder Man tries to tell Wanda to calm down but she tells him to fuck off. Well, not literally. They're not going to say fuck in Avengers. But that's the tone of her jerking away when he puts a hand on her shoulder.

Wanda was ready to just wash her hands of the Avengers after the Absolom College Ooze Incident. They got her to stay by promising to actually try to help Vision.

But the Avengers still don't seem to really care as far as Wanda can tell and are letting this new thing distract them.

In fairness, does this require the whole team? Do you need to be here listening to Mrs Raymond, Hank Pym?

Wanda stomps off, threatening to actually quit for realsies. Wasp starts to go after her but Vision stops her. Its his job as husband to tend to Wanda's emotional needs. He has no idea how to do that because emotions are DATA NOT FOUND but its his duty so he's going to go be adjacent to her anyway!

Aww?

Anyway, Hank Pym, who definitely doesn't need to be here for this, prompts Mrs Raymond to tell her story.

So... flashbacks. Or new information.

In indeterminate amount of time ago, Thomas Raymond, Toro, hears that the Human Torch was killed when the Fantastic Four were around.

Now, right off the bat this is weird. I'm pretty sure that the Human Torch was already dead, having blown himself up in a desert, and was found and resurrected by the Mad Thinker who tried to use him to destroy the Fantastic Four.

Wouldn't Thomas' reaction be more like 'holy crap, the robot Human Torch came back to life and died like ten minutes later? Weird!'

Thomas goes to the robot Human Torch's funeral (I thought the FF just left him to not-rot in a cave?) to pay his respects but the funeral is obviously a trap. Because one: there's no superheroes there. And two: the Mad Thinker buys Thomas a drugged coffee and drugs him with it.

The Mad Thinker used Toro's flame powers in a scheme with Egghead and the Puppet Master to black out all the power in America.

Toro was brainwashed into thinking he was the original Human Torch and sent to attack Namor. Namor brought him to his senses and Toro decided, despite having a loving wife, to sacrifice himself to push the Mad Thinker's escape rocket into a volcano.

The Mad Thinker, of course, walked that off. Making the whole thing pretty dumb.

Mrs Raymond didn't know all that. She just went looking for Thomas when he didn't return from the funeral.

She couldn't find him and only found that the cemetery named in the funeral announcement was not in active use so he couldn't have attended a funeral there.

So she went home and bam there's Namor.

Namor and Mrs Raymond compared notes and that's how she had the whole story for this flashback exposition.

The Wasp reiterates that the Fantastic Four just left the original Human Torch's body lying where they left it because he may have been the first Marvel hero and a famous Nazi puncher but as far as Reed Richards was concerned, he wasn't a real person.

Anyway, the Human Torch's body was supposedly found by Ultron to retrofit into being the Vision. But that's all retconned now so who knows.

The reason why this is relevant is that Mrs Raymond was hoping that the Toro that died stupidly pushing a rocket into a volcano wasn't actually Toro but the Human Torch.

I mean, he was brainwashed into thinking he was the Human Torch so why not just have him be the real guy? Wouldn't that be simpler?

Hank Pym concedes that if the Mad Thinker brought the Human Torch back to life once, he'd probably be able to do it again. And then he could have brainwashed him into thinking he was Toro who had been brainwashed into thinking he was the Human Torch.

Whoa, it stopped being simpler.

Hank points out that even if the Toro that died was actually Jim Hammond, that doesn't really answer where the hell Thomas Raymond has been for years.

Mrs Raymond begs Hank to help her find out what happened to her husband (pretty sure he cannonballed into a volcano) and Hank agrees to try.

So while Wasp leads Mrs Raymond to a guest room to get some rest, Hank makes some calls to the Avengers East Coast Island.

Namor (still hanging around after the Lava Men and Negative Zone stuff, I guess) confirms Mrs Raymond's story. Insofar as Namor fighting a fiery dude who claimed to be the Human Torch but then claimed to be Toro.

The exiled Prince of Abslantis says that his memory may not be reliable due to all the amnesia he's been through but he was pretty sure the dude who claimed to be Toro was Toro. And the fact that Thomas Raymond went missing after Toro dove into a volcano does seem to confirm that.

Lotta talking in this comic.

Have the West Coast Avengers West Coast done any superheroing since Byrne took over?

Now, granted, helping this lady get closure is pretty super-heroic but it doesn't feel like the Avengers West Coast are a superhero team anymore. 90% of what they've dealt with in the Byrne run has been Wanda Vision drama. And when they're not dealing with that, they're just sitting around.

Meanwhile, the Avengers East Coast keep going on wacky adventures. And even the Great Lakes Avengers are up to more than the Avengers West Coast are.

If the Avengers West Coast were going off on missions and adventures, they may have noticed Tigra being weird before the situation deteriorated and came to Hank shrinking her down and putting her in a terrarium.

Oh, by the way, he put her in a terrarium.

Consistent with Hank's problem solving ethic lately, he doesn't seem to have any real urgency to do anything about this.

She attacked him so he shrank her. He needed to put her somewhere while he figured out what to do with her so he put her in a terrarium. And he doesn't actually want to look after her so he rigged it with a bunch of alarms.

Hank mentions that Tigra's cat aspect is in ascendency and US Agent nods and says that explains all the cat-like behavior he observed that nobody else did.

Wonder Man: "? You know about this? Why didn't you tell anyone?" US Agent: "I was busy. Watch your tone, Williams. I don't have to explain myself to you. I answer only to the United State government." Wonder Man: "Guess again, Stripes! You're an Avenger now! We didn't want you, but to avoid further government interference in our business, we've been forced to take you. And you are gonna learn that being an Avenger means being responsible to all the other members! We don't even know where you are half the time!" US Agent: "Where I am is on your need-to-know list only when you can see me, Wonder Man! The rest of the time you don't have the security clearance to know any more than I chose to tell you. And I chose to tell you nothing!"

US Agent isn't just not a team player, he's functionally not even on the team.

He just lives in the same place as they do but he's coming and going as he pleases and doesn't really interact with the Avengers.

Wonder Man is about ready to deck US Agent in the schnozz which I, at least, would enjoy but Wasp breaks up the fight.

Since Wasp got Mrs Raymond settled, Hank goes to talk to Wanda and Vision and tells them that if Jim Hammond was buried at that funeral it pretty much completely disproves the idea that Vision was ever Human Torch.

Vision is game to pursuing the lead but he is confused because more needs to be retconned. See, he was recognized as the Torch by a Sentinel and by the ghost of the original Torch.

What does that meeeeeean?

Hank suggests that the Sentinel was just mistaken because its primary function is to find mutants, not identify androids.

As for that Ghost Human Torch... well, that's suspect isn't it? The Ghost Human Torch was in the Legion of the Unliving with Ghost Wonder Man, before Wonder Man was retconned to have been in a kind of stasis, not dead. Plus, Immortus was involved. He seems to be involved a lot.

Hank wonders aloud why Immortus would have gone to such length to make Vision think he was the Human Torch.

Immortus happens to be watching on his time monitors.

Immortus: "You are only now beginning to see the culmination of a plan set in motion long, long ago. A plan which, when it achieves fruition, will make Immortus truly that which I have always claimed to be... THE ABSOLUTE MASTER OF TIME ITSELF!"

Yes but do you have a TARDIS?

Meanwhile, at the Anvil Pictures offices, Martin Preston, studio boss, is lurking in his office musing how everything he's done up to this point has been fruitless. But being trapped in Mephisto's realm has made things clear to him.

Martin Preston: "Let the Avengers count the hours of their last days! When next we meet, it will be MASTER PANDEMONIUM who is triumphant!"

Oh, hey, this guy.

I knew he was in show-biz but I thought he was an actor. He runs a big movie company? Good for him. Shame about all the cursed future knowledge I have.

Also, he looks different than last we saw him. And his powers seem to be different. While gloating to no one that he'll beat up the Avengers, he turns his arm into a demon arm.

But Master Pandemonium turns his arms into whole-ass demons. An entire demon pulled out of his sleeve like a very impressive magic show.

Turning his arm demon-y but not turning it into an entire demon that just pops off and goes to do its thing just isn't as goofy. I cannot approve of it.

Later, the Avengers West Coast land in Pleasantville. Hank Pym goes to talk to the mayor to get permission to exhume the Human Torch.

The mayor is having difficulty with this request because he doesn't even know where to start to approve exhuming a grave that doesn't exist on record for a cemetery that closed thirty years before the grave that doesn't exist was dug there.

Meanwhile, Wasp, Wonder Man, Vision, and Scarlet Witch preemptively find the Human Torch's grave.

And, yeah, the gravestone says Human Torch instead of Jim Hammon.

Vision decides to intangible into the coffin to check if Jim Hammond, Human Torch, really is buried here.

Wasp and Wonder Man find this distasteful. To just intrude on someone's grave like that...

But Vision is able to report a body that looks like Jim Hammond and hasn't decomposed the way a meat body would.

Wanda asks, okay so there's a Human Torch-looking guy buried here. So, what? What are we going to do about it?

Wonder Man says they have to wait for Hank to get permission to exhume the grave.

Scarlet Witch: "The Scarlet Witch will not be bound by human bureaucracy!"

Then she blows up the grave.

Okay, okay.

The explosion is more like a streak of flame erupting into the skies. Wonder Man flies off to see if that is the Human Torch.

Also, Wasp takes note of Wanda specifying human bureaucracy.

Meanwhile again, back at the Avengers West Coast Compound.

Lauren Timm, Billy and Tommy's governess, has lost the children. Again. She didn't tell Wanda when it happened the first time because Wanda has obtained a reputation for firing governesses at the drop of a hat and dammit Lauren needs this job!

While she's looking for Billy and Tommy, the skies suddenly goes dark and Agatha Harkness appears at the door, announcing that she's here to help with "your most difficult charges..."

Hi, Agatha. Didn't you die?

Oh, well, never keeps you down long.

Back over at the A-plot, if a plot is what you could call it, Wonder Man chases down the robot Human Torch.

He yells to the very confused robot man that he's a friend and wants to help him so the Torch stops and is like a friend, neat.

The robot Human Torch hasn't heard of the Avengers. He's barely heard of the Fantastic Four, remembering them simply as "four people with fantastic powers" from his last stint at being alive.

But he comes back with Wonder Man.

It seems like there could be an awkward moment introducing the Human Torch to the Vision, what with all the maybe history that might be between them.

But the Vision doesn't have the emotional capacity to have robo-angst (which makes him the worst Vision. Robo-angst is Vision's thing!) and nobody gives a shit about Wanda giving the Human Torch the stink-eye for existing.

Nobody gives a shit about Wanda is this run's thing.

The Torch feels like he knows Vision, which makes their maybe history even more confusing based on what we currently know.

And Hank Pym decides to Explain It All. Back at the Avengers West Coast Compound.

FOR SOME REASON, HE STARTS WITH NOVA.

No, not the space one. Er, I mean, not THAT space one, with the helmet. Frankie Raye. Who was Johnny Storm Human Torch's girlfriend with a dark secret and the dark secret turned out to be that she had fire power. And then she went into space to date Galactus.

INCREDIBLY WEIRD CHARACTER ARC.

Anyway, Frankie told the Fantastic Four that Professor Horton was her step-father. Creator of the robot Human Torch Professor Horton. And he was downright miffed when the human Human Torch started his career.

Horton took Frankie to a warehouse to show her all his robot Human Torch creating aparatus and then Frankie spilled chemicals all over herself.

Somehow the chemicals set her on fire without hurting her and she became a female Human Torch but she went by Nova. And then she went off to go mack on Galactus.

Wanda asks the very pertinent question of what the fuck this has to do with anything.

So Hank says his best guesstimate er scientific theory is that Ultron made Vision out of the leftover Human Torch creating molds and chemicals. And that's why that Sentinel identified Vision as being the same age as the Torch AND why Hank himself recognized parts of Vision as World War 2 vintage AND that's why Vision seems familiar to the real, true, actual, no foolin' robot Human Torch.

Vision was made out of Human Torch spare parts!

IT ALL MAKES SENSE!

Except for the part where Professor Horton claimed that Vision wasn't his work. And you'd think he'd recognize the components if they were just shit from his warehouse.

BUT OTHER THAN THAT IT ALL MAKES SENSE SHUT UP.

I'll give the retcon this much.

It TRIES to thread the needle between leaving robot Human Torch available to be brought back and still having Vision's origin Human Torch adjacent.

I think. That if the set-up had been framed differently, it would be less aggravating.

If instead of hammering in that all of Vision's backstory was lies and having Professor Horton show up to point at Vision and go 'the fuck is this??', if the Human Torch's resurrection was what prompted the questions into Vision's origin. That I think would go over better.

Anyway, Wasp declares this retcon is stupendous and very believable. And gives Hank a congratulatory kiss, which he reacts to by abashedly protesting "Ja-a-an...!"

You two are too old to be acting like high school sweeties. And too divorced.

Anyway again, Wasp predicted that this would somehow end in the Human Torch's resurrection. I DON'T KNOW HOW. WASP JUST KNOWS.

SHE MADE JIM HAMMOND ROBOT HUMAN TORCH A COSTUME.

JUST IN CASE.

My theory is that she looked at the roster box on the cover and saw the Human Torch there.

Because he is.

Resurrected and included in the roster box on the cover. Foregone conclusion.

Wasp invites him to the Avengers, without really asking him if he wants to be. He does want to be but what an assumption. He might want to spend some time getting used to the modern world or looking for old friends. Maybe look into Professor Horton.

But Wasp knows things. She saw the roster box. He's gonna be on the team.

US Agent seconds the sentiment and turns it into an actual invite and Jim Hammond accepts.

He even gets an echo of Vision crying and pretending he's not when he was invited to join, all those issues ago.

I was prepared to give credit for the subtle allusion except on the next page Wasp makes it a blatant reference.

Wasp: "Hey, don't go all macho on us now, Torch! This is the 80's! Men are allowed to show their emotions now. Why... I guess you'd say even an android can cry!"

Stop trying to make you not my favorite character, Wasp.

... Oh my god. In the panel where Wasp says the thing, Hank and Jim are standing right next to each other and they're the same person.

-points accusingly- SAME FACE SYNDROME.

Brave artistic choice to put these two people on the same team when you can't tell them apart except by clothes.

Jim Hammond doesn't get to enjoy the warm fuzzies of joining a superhero team again because they're interrupted by the sound of someone circling the building overhead.

After months away from the team due to that whole awkward international criminal thing,

Yay!

This is getting to be a pretty big superhero team for a team that doesn't do anything.

US Agent, Wonder Man, Wasp, Dr Hank Pym, Scarlet Witch, Vision, Robot Human Torch, Tigra, maybe Iron Man.

Maybe the reason they haven't been doing anything is because crime, all of crime, looked at that lineup and went 'no thank you.'

Anyway.

Bringing back the Human Torch is pretty blatantly what Byrne wanted to do all along. The path to get there was painful and badly written. The path to get it done was the same.

I mean, one of the oldest heroes in Marvel and he's resurrected because Wanda blows up his grave in a fit of pique? That's his grand return? Sheesh.

Still, I'm trying to be open-minded. I want to see how Jim fits in with the team. How he interacts, who he meshes and clashes with.

Wanda seems pissed at his existence. Surely that will lead to good material.

Is Iron Man rejoining the team? I hope so. I like Iron Man. I want to see him walk into the situation that the Avengers West Coast are in and react like 'i was gone maybe ten minutes!'

Follow @essential-avengers because I said so. Or because you want to. Like, reblog, comment, juggle. Things you can do.

[navstuffs]

5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Pairing: Re4!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

Summary: Leon Kennedy is on his way to pick you up in 5 minutes.

Warning tags: SMUT SO NO MINORS, NSFW, porn with plot, car sex, roleplay of rideshare driver x passenger, ooc leon (he doesn't hit the car), masturbation (female), sex (p in v), public sex, creampie, image taken from google and edited by me

Author's Note: heeey, i had this on my draft sitting for so long and wrote this from 11 pm to 2 am, in a frenzy. i had so much fun writing, (not so much fun editing this picture let me tell ya), so i hope you enjoy it too!

my leon's masterlist

Leon Kennedy is on his way to pick you up in 5 minutes. 

You blink at the message sent to your phone, confused. You had just finished a good walk in the park and could definitely walk back home, no biggie. The weather had been great, not too warm or humid. Your husband had other plans, clearly. You pinpoint your location to your driver, excitement growing inside of you.  

Not even four minutes later, the black Range Over enters the park's gates, and you start giggling. Before getting in the car, you must laugh as much as you need, you think. If your husband was doing this, he had an excellent reason.

The car stops by your side, and you open the backseat door. Inside, a handsome and familiar face looks at you in the rearview mirror.

"Leon?" You hold back a laugh, simply giving a timid smile. Leon asks your name, and you confirm. "Would you mind if I rode in the passenger seat, Sir?"

Leon mumbles an inaudible "Not at all." You know just calling Leon "Sir" has already affected him. You close the back door, open the passenger's and jump right in. Leon is wearing a black baseball cap over his golden locks, and you control another urge to not chuckle. To complete the look, he wears one of his tight black shirts (which makes his chest looks huge) and the black pants you love on him.

Leon is staying in character: it is weird he isn't smiling at your presence, but you are to be blamed for this. He is trying, and it is your fault.

You were the one who revealed, while drunk, how interesting it would be to get fucked in a car by a rideshare app driver if, of course, he was Leon. You knew it was a silly fantasy, but Leon considered it a great idea to surprise you at the right time. And the moment finally came, when you left the house ready for a walk, wearing a green shirt and those tight pants. 

"Is the AC okay, ma'am?" You are taken aback by how serious and smooth his voice sounds.

"Mhm, yes, thank you, Sir." But two could play into that game.

You can feel Leon staring at your gym pants, going up to your shirt and cleavage. You lied: the car was a little too cold, and your nipples, protected by your bra top, were starting to get hard, a fact that didn't pass unnoticed by your driver.

"Are you sure you are not cold?" Leon asks again, his blue eyes struggling to stay focused on the road. 

"Maybe a little," You admit.

Instead of raising the AC temperature, Leon places his warm leg in your upper leg. Surprised by the sudden touch, you don't move as Leon caresses slowly. 

"This help?" Leon murmurs, and you nod as his hand starts raising up slowly. "How do you plan on paying for this ride?"

"I have no cash on me. Or cards," You whisper, your body shaking with anticipation. Your eyes wander outside momentarily, not recognizing the empty road you are on and not even caring.

"I guess you will have to pay me in another way, then," Leon sounds decisive, a naughty smile playing on his lips.

"What other way, Sir?" You pretend to sound nervous, despite your body warming up. 

Leon answers by firmly pressing his thumb against your clit, as the rest of his hands grab the middle of your legs. Bastard, who knew your body so well by now. He rubs circles through the fabric, an approval hum coming from his chest.

"I think this could work."

You moan back a frail "Yes," spreading your legs open so Leon can have easier access. Your worries about him hitting the car don't even come to mind: you would trust Leon with your life. And the windows are tinted, so fuck it. Your head falls back against the seat as Leon continues with the lazy strokes.

"Touch yourself. Pull your top up."

You follow as told, pulling your shirt and top up until your collarbone. The cold wind from the AC makes you wince a little, the seatbelt scratching against your bare skin. You don't mind, your nipples so hard Leon licks his lips with desire. He also notices your chills, and suddenly you have your husband back.

"Do you want to raise the AC, sweetheart? I don't want you to get sick, and my hand is quite busy down here."

You nod, raising the temperature before going back on, pinching your nipples, a fire spreading in your veins. Typical of Leon getting worried about you getting sick like he doesn't have his hand in the middle of your legs.

"S-sir...Leon." You moan desperately, and Leon grunts an answer. You think he might pull over any minute now, but Leon continues driving, despite his attention flickering between you and the road. 

"Take your pants down. And your panties as well."

You take your gym pants down, together with your panties. When you place your feet into the seat, Leon momentarily loses control of the car, causing it to jolt to the left, but he quickly retakes control. You are going to be the death of him, spreading your legs like that, your body turned to him.

Fuck, Leon thinks. You look adorable, sexy, hot, spread like that, your pussy wet and ready for him. Your chest is rising up, and your face is heating up. He wants to stop the car and take you now, but Leon is committed to giving you what you want.

"Let-let me check" You hide a smile when Leon Kennedy stutters, but your smile disappears when your mouth turns into an "o" while he rubs his index finger, starting from your clit down to your entrance. He pulls in just the tip of his finger before pulling out.

Leon tastes his fingertip as if savoring it, making your stomach drop. You are so fucking glad you aren't driving this car, or you both would be dead by now.

"It should be enough as payment," Leon declares, not hiding his proud smile when he sees you even more embarrassed. He wanted to grab his phone and record it. Maybe next time, he thinks. 

Without wasting any more time, Leon shoves two fingers inside of you. Your head goes back against the seat and the window, the cold feeling good against your warm skin. He rocks his fingers slowly, admiring your pleasure expressions. 

"Look at the mess you are making on my seat," Leon says, smooth and proud. You look down, your wetness even more evident against the dark seat. Leon doesn't seem to care, pumping his fingers fast inside you. 

"Leon," You moan, desperate.

"I know, sweetie, I know." It is your Leon back again. You barely know how your husband is holding up, keeping you safe as your eyes glance at the hard cock between his legs. Your hand tries to approach it, but Leon shakes his head, a blush rising on his cheeks. Not if we want to live, Leon thinks. 

"It is about you now, okay? Be a good girl and touch yourself for me."

"O-okay." You sob. You take your fingers into your clit, rubbing in a circular motion, squeezing Leon's fingers even harder. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the knot on your belly. You are so close now.

"Open your eyes. Open your eyes, sweetheart."

You hear the command and obey, your eyes focusing on Leon's blue ones. He shares the attention between the road and your eyes. He is sweating, his other hand holding the wheel with his fists white. You want to touch him so badly, it hurts. Leon is panting now, jerking his fingers fast inside of you, your movements in your clit following the speed. You moan his name over and over again, finally releasing the knot in your stomach. You cum, tears in the corner of your eyes, as your head falls back. Leon only stops when your whole body just relaxes against the seat. 

The car jolts when Leon finally pulls over and locks the car doors, but you barely seem to register a drunken smile on your lips. He pulls his fingers out, pulling them inside your mouth.

"This is my tip. Come on. Lick them clean."

You lazily lick his fingers back, still trying to catch your breath. When he considers them clean enough, Leon pulls his fingers out of his mouth, his eyes entirely focused on you and only you. Your Leon seems back, releasing you from your seatbelt to pull you into his lap. You can feel his dick against your ass as Leon rubs your back.

"You okay?"

"Mhmmmm. Where are we?" You ask drunkenly.

"I have no idea," He chuckles while you hide your face in his chest.

"That's why you didn't come in the walk with me, you were plotting, sneaky bastard."

Leon chuckles, letting you relax for a few moments. He looks outside the car for signs of human presence, but there is nothing, just trees. No other vehicle has even passed since Leon was driving on this road. He doesn't want to push you to do anything you don't want, of course, especially after how much energy you just used. You seem to understand, though, turning off the car.

"What are you doing?"

"Deciding for you. Come here."

You release Leon from his seatbelt, pulling him to the backseat. You finally kiss, Leon's body covering yours, his clothes reminding you he is too dressed.

"I probably won't last," Leon states apologetically. With his help, you undress him leaving Leon only with his black boxer briefs. Leon finally throws your bra and shirt far away. You want to argue those were your favorites, but he steals another hot kiss from you.

A car passes fast, illuminating Leon and your faces for a second before disappearing. It doesn't have to be an idiot to understand what is happening inside, especially with the now car's foggy windows. You pull his boxer briefs down, and his cock presses against your belly, causing you to chill. You lick your lips, adjusting your position in your backseat as Leon's forehead frowns.

"Hey. Don't worry about it: if it is the police, you can just show your badge and say it is a secret mission or something."

Leon chuckles, knowing you are probably right. He tries to say something, but you finally stroke his dick, just the tip, and Leon is trembling in your hands, his blue eyes glowing.

"Shit, sweetie, one second."

"We don't have much time, Leon." You argue, impatience. You wrap your legs around his waist with your back leaning against the window and the car seat. Leon stands kneeling in front of you, one of his hands at the window and the other holding the seat behind your head. 

Leon enters you slowly, causing you both to groan. Leon is much louder than you, and the car starts shaking as soon as he starts moving.

"Shit, you feel so good. You liked your driver that much?" Leon teases, his golden locks rubbing your face.

"5 stars. Ri-right there, baby," You answer, holding him close to you. Leon knew precisely where and how to poke you with the right intensity. You try to stay silent, focusing on the noises of your pussy and Leon's groans. As his thrusts become harder without you even needing to ask, another car in a different direction passes, this time much slower, his high beam on. Leon notices your worried expression, pulling your chin back to look at him, and biting your mouth.

"Let them hear. I want them to see you are mine. Come on." Leon changes the angle slightly, and you scream, squeezing his triceps. He is thrusting so hard you can hear the car groaning. You forget about the existence of other cars and everything else, focusing your eyes on Leon's.

"S-so close," You sob, and Leon takes his hand to rub your clit. It takes two strokes until your body arches from the seat, shaking. You moan incoherently, while you close your hands in Leon's arms, as a way to keep you from passing out. Leon soon follows you, biting your neck as he cums deep inside of you, jerking his hips until the very last drop.

You two remain breathless. Leon's hair is damp with sweat, and he looks a mess. You kiss his cheek, looking at Leon's arm flexing so he doesn't put his weight on top of you.

"Are they gone?" Leon barely registers what you are asking, finally remembering the other car from earlier. He has to pass his hand over the window to take the condensations, searching. It seems that they left.

"They are gone."

"Bring me up, Leon, please."

He nods and gently brings you to your lap, still deep inside you. You just need a moment to catch your breath. You rest against his shoulder again, a happy and small smile on your face.

"Well, this tops the cowboy experience."

Leon chuckles, relaxing his head against the seat. When he starts feeling sleepy, Leon lifts his head, finding you already napping.

"I have to drive away soon, sweetheart. Before you fall asleep completely, why don't you wear your shirt and pants, okay?" You murmur something inaudible, and Leon smiles. He finds your shirt under his seat and your pants in front of yours and helps you dress, you more asleep than awake. Next, Leon pulls his shirt on and his pants, swearing low when he does not find his briefs. Guess he is going commando, then. 

Leon leaves you half-lying in the backseat, placing your seatbelt before jumping back into the driver's seat. He gives you one good look, sleeping peacefully, before finding his cap on the floor and placing it on his head. It is time to take you home.

[sufandomgirl]

Wedding Prompt Story Part 3

Aisha: Thanks for coming to this Christmas potluck. And making Green Bean Casserole.

Clarice: Not a problem. I just hope the rest of your family accepts us.

Aisha: They will. Everyone adores you. They know you were a good friend to me.

[They enter the house, Aisha holding the door for Clarice and shutting it behind them. Her mom and dad hugged them at the door. They took off their coats.]

Aisha's Mom: Clarice, it's been too long.

Clarice: It has, ma'am. I brought Green Bean Casserole.

Aisha's Dad: Wonderful. Jennifer usually makes it, but she hurt her ankle this year.

Aisha: Aunt Jennifer? She hurt her ankle? How?

Aisha's Dad: Oh, don't worry about that. How is my hardest-working daughter doing?

Aisha: Doing well. Dating my wife and living with her now.

Clarice: (blushes)

Aisha's Mom: Oh, dear, just come and set this down on the table.

[Clarice follows Aisha's mom into the dining room and sets the casserole on the table, where she indicates. She takes the lid off. Just then, Jennifer hobbles in on her crutches.]

Jennifer: Oh, good. I thought we weren't gonna have Green Bean Casserole this year after I hurt my ankle.

Aisha's Mom: Oh, Aisha's wife, Clarice, made it.

Clarice: (waves, shyly) Hi, sorry. I didn't mean to intrude on your dish. I just wasn't told what else to bring.

Jennifer: Not a problem, dear. This family looks forward to Green Bean Casserole every year.

Aisha's Mom: See, I knew she wouldn't mind, Clarice. Now, why don't you go socialize and I'll get the rest of dinner set up.

Clarice: I can help, ma'am.

Aisha's Mom: Oh, nonsense, dear. You're a guest. Just call me Winona and my husband Robert from now on.

[Before Clarice can object, she walks off. She wanders around until she finds Aisha, who introduces her to people.]

Aisha: Uncle Jackson, this is my wife, Clarice.

Jackson: Oh, that little wedding you had when you were six got recognized?

Aisha: Yeah, and I'm glad it was our wedding.

Jackson: So, Clarice, what do you do?

Clarice: I'm a software developer.

Jackson: (nods) Very in-demand job choice.

Clarice: Oh, I know. I just signed on with Lotus.

Aisha: Isn't that the big healthcare company that's been buying out smaller ones for the last few years?

Clarice: That's them.

Jackson: You picked a good one. Lots of job security there.

Clarice: Hopefully. I just moved into my grandmother's secret house that she left to me.

Jackson: Oh, why secret?

Clarice: Well, my family isn't big on women having careers, much less my being bisexual.

Jackson: Oh, I remember that. Yeah, I never did like your grandfather all that much.

Clarice: No one did, I think. He was a very traditional man in a very modern time. Let's just say that I'm not invited to holidays anymore and leave it at that.

Jackson: Well, you're always welcome here. We'd love to have you for holidays. Excuse me, my brother just walked in. (slides past her) Hey, Garrett!

Aisha: Great, Uncle Garrett's here.

Clarice: What's wrong with Uncle Garrett?

Aisha: He's the one who didn't think we should have done the make-believe wedding. He actually thinks like your grandfather. I think they're still in touch.

Clarice: Well, crap...

[rainboq]

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, my eyes flicking over the list of complaint that cascaded down off my desk, across my office, and into the hall where paralegals and junior lawyers had to hop over it. Why she insisted on using scrolls instead of A4 was beyond you, but she was also a special client. "This is... a lot of complaints."

"Most of it is infidelity." Hera nodded, although it was hard to look at her directly.

Why a Greek goddess was in my office, asking for a divorce in the United States was kind of beyond me, but clearly she needed something. "Ma'am, you don't really need to submit these complaints to a judge, we're in a no-fault divorce state."

"So you can help me?"

"I want to help you." I said, some of the things described in the document made my eyes water. What was that about turning himself into a goose? "I'm just not sure this is the right jurisdiction, where did you file for your marriage, in Greece?"

"We didn't exactly file anything, this was before your kind could read and write."

My temples throbbed at that. A contract so old it literally predated human literacy, great. Wonderful. Standing was going to be such an easy thing to prove, never mind authority over the matter. "Okay, right. So there really isn't any jurisdiction that would have authority over this. The Greeks might try and claim it but I doubt they'd uphold the marriage anyways."

"None still living at any rate." Hera shrugged, seeming totally unbothered by the idea.

"Who officiated the wedding, anyone?"

"I can't remember if it was Hades or Poseidon, but it was one of our brothers."

"Right," I groaned inwardly, massaging the bridge of my nose, "There's also the whole... incest thing. I'm not sure this marriage would even be considered legally valid in the first place, you're siblings, there's no physical record of the marriage contract, only the verbal one, and your memory on that is... old."

"But perfect." Hera snapped in a voice so powerful that I flinched in my chair. "I remember our contract exactly, but my hopefully soon to be former husband refuses to respect it. He can plead senile all he wants, but I know he knows. I'm not sure if he just delights in annoying me or if he's simply that lustful."

"I don't think it really matters, the question is if we can get a judge to play a long, and possibly the State Department." I leaned back in my chair, tapping a finger against my chin. "But I'll tell you what. I'll take this case and we're gonna get you out of this marriage."

I had to close my eyes, her smile was so bright that it might have been blinding and I really didn't want to take that chance. "Excellent. If this works, you might have more clients too, I'm told Persephone wants her own freedom."

You are a divorce lawyer, the best in your field. You have just received word that you will representing the Greek goddess Hera in her divorce from Zeus.