#Training Housekeeping Training Housekeeping Staff

[huanted-dennys]

I’ve heard so many times, as a house keeper and as front desk or even just listening to a convo, a guest complain about a bed and say “It’s like the housekeeper took a nap on it or something”

i get its just like a dramatic saying or whatever

but sir, ma’am.

If the boss of the hotel walked into a room a housekeeper just cleaned.. and sat on the bed. not even god could save that person from the cleaner’s wrath.

[heich0e]

oh to be the unmated omega sae keeps at home, often left to your own devices for long periods of time while he's away for work. your life is pretty comfortable, all things considered. you live in a gorgeous apartment, there's staff that takes care of every errand and chore, your needs and wants are more than met—all without any effort on your part. you get to go to school, you have friends you spend time with, you take art classes on the weekends as a hobby.

it's easy.

and then one morning you wake up—wrapped up in a tangle of blankets, an oversized dress shirt, and a faded hoodie—and peel yourself out of the warm embrace of your bed before shuffling downstairs.

the head of staff is just setting a hot cup of coffee at the table with your breakfast when you reach the main floor.

"good morning, miss." she greets you with a small smile. it's a bit stiffer than usual.

"mornin'," you mumble with a warm smile in return, rubbing at your bleary eyes.

you sit down at your usual place at the table, humming a little tune to yourself as you take a sip of your coffee and smear a thick layer of your favourite jam across your toast.

"miss," the older woman calls for your attention from the kitchen. you hum in recognition of her call, a mouthful of food bulging in your cheek. she doesn't look up from the sink. "the young master will be returning home tomorrow."

suddenly the food in your mouth feels thick and unpleasant. the jam no longer tastes sweet. the bitterness of the coffee—the same blend you drink every day—is unstomachable.

"oh."

you set down your piece of toast, staring blankly at the perfect crescent of your own bite mark missing from the side. the housekeeper continues puttering around the kitchen, but you can tell she's waiting for you to say more. for you to react.

you stand from the table after another moment of quiet.

"are you finished?" the woman asks, a gentle lilt of reproach in her voice.

"not very hungry," you answer weakly, your words apologetic. you step towards the staircase. "i... i'm going to head to school early."

"very well," she answers. "i'll let the driver know."

"no, no,"—you wave her off quickly—"i'll take the train today."

the woman looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn't. it's her own kindness, you know. the last bit of freedom she's able to indulge you. she smiles, and you ignore that it's a bit sad, then she nods.

"um," you pause at the bottom of the staircase, your fingers tapping nervously on the bannister. you glance back over your shoulder towards her. "will you be taking care of the laundry today?"

the housekeeper nods, then carefully replies. "i'll be sure to return all the linens to their proper place."

you chew on the inside of your cheek, thinking of the clothes mixed in with your sheets. thinking of the man they belong to, and how you absolutely couldn't bear for him to know you've been sleeping wrapped in them every night.

"thank you," you say quietly, breathing the words out in relief, before continuing upstairs to get ready for your day.

your last day of freedom for the time being.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Celebrity Crush

Hi guys!

This is a new one, but it's kind of a suit from this story. A bonus chapter, I don't know how we can call it.

I hope you will like it :)

TW : Ona Batlle being perfect as ever.(I'm so in love)

Summary : You're a worldclass singer in an interview after you left your group because your manager and staff were asshole.

Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

After leaving your group's separation, you quickly felt better. The depression that awaited you flew away like a cloud of smoke once the stress and pressure that were constantly on your shoulders stopped existing. Even when you were on trial against your old record company, your former bosses and manager, you felt good. Because even if you ended up paying millions, it meant you were free again. And that, in your eyes, was priceless.

You must also admit that being able to be with your girlfriend on a daily basis is probably the main reason for your well-being. Ona has always been the most important person in your life and since your return to Barcelona, you have trouble being separated from her. You gladly accompany her to her training sessions and you will also happily get her when she has finished. You go to each of her games as well, even if they are on the other side of Spain or in another country. You have so much time to catch up and your wear your jersey with her name with pride.

You were afraid at first that having you around all the time would end up bothering Ona, but she seems as happy to have you back as you are. At first, you didn’t know what to do while the footballer was training, so you cleaned up your house. As the days passed, you started composing and playing music again, for fun. Your apartment may no longer shine like a mint, but it has the advantage that your housekeeper stops staring at you when you don’t put their products in the right place.

It's only two years later that you decide to release a music album, entirely produced by you. You don’t want to experience the same kind of problems as before and you’ve decided that you’re never better served than by yourself. The songs are mostly love songs related to Ona to be fair.

When you looked for musicians, you asked the guys but only Ricardo agreed. You didn’t blame the other two, even if you now use the thing to annoy them when you see them again and you start bickering like fifteen year olds.

You choose your interviews yourself and it's you who plans your concert schedules, arranging to place them at times or places that don't make you miss any match of Ona. It's sometimes more difficult for her to come see you in concert, but these being the same each time, you don't hold it against her. You have an agent, though, who is no one but your big brother, who you have complete confidence in, and who knows how to be a watchdog when it comes.

After dropping Ona off at practice today, you head to the centre of Barcelona for an interview. You initially hesitated before accepting, but when sold to you as a way to also talk about homosexuality that is forced to hide in the music world, you quickly accepted.

"Drive carefully. I will try to listen to you" Ona promised before kissing you tenderly caressing your cheek.

"All right. Be careful Onita."

Ona smiled at you and left the car, not without kissing you one more time when you whines when you saw her leaving your car.

The report that is broadcast before your interview attracts all your attention and you are happy that the subject is approached in this way. The way they educate young people on the subject also pleases you very much. During the ad page and the beginning of your interview, you send a quick message to Ona and your mother, telling them that the interview will soon begin.

The headphones on your ears, you smile at the journalist who is interviewing you. She is a well-known and respected journalist in Spain and you are happy that she is the one doing your interview.

"So Y/N, hello! How are you?"

"I’m fine thank you and you?" you answer with a smile.

"Well, I’m glad you’re here."

You smile and nod. She informed you that the interview was being filmed to be broadcast online on the radio’s website, but don’t forget that most people can’t see you. So you also thank her orally.

After discussing the report and general views, she gently guides the discussion on your own case, as agreed. You naturally asked Ona’s permission to talk about her before accepting the interview.

"And so in your case, it was your record company at the time that prohibited you from mentioning your girlfriend?"

"Yes. In truth, I was not allowed to talk about my homosexuality at all. It was the record company that started releasing subtle information to make the fans believe that something was going on between Juan and me"

"And you were already with your girlfriend when it all started?"

"We’ve been together since we were 17 and I’ve never kept the truth from them" you shrug your shoulders.

"It must have been hard for you, but also for her, I guess."

You swallow nervously, the difficult moments through which you passed coming back in memory. Playing nervously with your fingers, you quickly shift your attention to your interlocutor.

"Very. Honestly, I’m very lucky that she stayed. Many other people would have given up on me I think."

The reporter smiles at you before moving on to another question. You knew this kind of moment would come and you were prepared. But that doesn’t mean it’s nice to talk about it anyway.

"I can see people reacting to what you said and some people find it unbelievable that your former employers have not managed to separate you" she comments looking at a screen next to her.

"Oh, actually they almost succeeded. But that’s precisely when I decided to stop everything. I could see my life without music, but I couldn’t see my life without Ona" you say timidly while smiling.

The journalist smiles back at you and winks at you before grabbing a small pile of cards next to her.

"Thank you for your sincerity. Now a quick round of questions on anything and everything, all our guests come through. Are you ready?"

"Ready" you answer, a little more relaxed.

You laugh softly when she throws a jingle, before you ask the first question.

"What is your favorite season?"

"Summer" you answer. The summer break would be fairer, considering Ona’s busy schedule.

"Your favorite food?"

"The fideua of my mother-in-law, sorry Mama I love you"

"If you had to live in a city other than Barcelona, which one would it be?"

You give yourself a few seconds to think, quickly listing the places you know in your head.

"Um… Maybe Palma de Mallorca"

An hour’s flight from your families, the little island is a place you enjoy. So why not. In addition, you need the sun to live properly. Even if you enjoy London, you don't see yourself living there permanently.

"Real Madrid or FC Barcelona?"

"Barcelona, obviously" you answer with a smile.

"The first thing you do in the morning, only the answers that can be listened by our youngest ears are allowed" jokes the journalist, making you laugh.

"Turn off my girlfriend’s alarm clock I guess"

You never understood how Ona got up and got to practice on time during your absence. She never hears the sound of her alarm clock.

"Ok and last question. Who is your celebrity crush? Ban to mention Ona's name"

You laugh again and roll your eyes.

"Okay then… The Number 22 of Fc Barcelona Femini is kind of cute" you answer with malice, mentioning Ona's number.

It makes the journalist laugh and you smile while shrugging your shoulders before answering.

"What? You saw my girlfriend? There’s no way I’d mention another name"

This is where the interview ends and you warmly thank the whole team for their kindness. After posing for a photo for their social networks, you still stay with them to talk a little bit. At this time, Ona is probably coming home, Salma having offered to bring her back for once since you were not sure to arrive on time.

When you go out, some fans are waiting for you and you take a few minutes to talk to them, sign autographs or take pictures. When you finally get to your car, you answer Ona’s message that she is home to tell her that you are coming too.

"I’m home mi Amor!"

Ona appears smiling in the entrance after a few seconds and you don't hesitate to pass your arms around her to squeeze her against you. It’s only been a few hours but it’s pretty incredible how much you missed her. You smile while feeling the comforting smell of her shampoo and smile even more when she drops kisses in the hollow of your neck.

"How was the training?" you ask her while playing with her long hair.

"Very good. Only three games left and we’re on vacation"

You smile and nod. Barcelona are already sure to win the championship and you saw their third straight victory in the Champions League a few weeks before.

"I can’t wait"

You have already planned your vacation, three weeks under the sun of Hawaii. You know how tired Ona is and you intend to do everything possible so that she can recover properly. What she doesn’t know is that you plan to propose to her there and that almost everything is already organized.

Ona turns you away from the last details you have to do by putting her lips on yours, waking the butterflies in your stomac.

"Come, I ordered food. I took sushi as I didn't know what time you would arrive"

"It’s perfect" you assure her, letting her train you in your kitchen by the hand. "Like you" you add with a smirk, lightly squeezing her bum.

Ona laughs and turns around to face you and put her arms around your neck.

"What a sweat talker and a charmer" she whispers against your lips before kissing you again, making you shiver.

"I’m so in love with you it’s disgusting" you smirk a few minutes later when you’re sitting in front of your plate.

"Oh yeah? Well it seems to me that you also appreciate the number 22 of FC Barcelona?"

Sitting in front of you, Ona has eyes that sparkle with mischief and you laugh by pointing with one of your sticks.

"You can’t blame me. She’s amazing."

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ 23

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. -> all chapters

Twenty-Three.

Now that you've fallen into the new lifestyle of a kept woman, Donaka usually rises before you do. He works out or trains or swims, or sometimes he's already gone to the office by the time you stumble out of bed. 

In your defense, he keeps you up late. 

One morning, you wake to find an old photograph on your night stand, resting on the Tai Chi book you've been making your way through.

It looks like it's from the 80s, a young man seated on a tattered couch in a studded leather jacket, a teenage girl beside him. They look similar, pretty, with fine features and dark eyes. The boy has a dusting of a moustache on his upper lip. 

It takes you an embarrassing amount of seconds to realize it’s Donaka. He must be in his early twenties, glowering at the camera, and yet…somehow he’s a little awkward too. His hair is long, past his chin, and so fluffy you would have died to touch it had you been there. Beneath the young man’s unapproachable facade, even through the photo, you sense a melancholy in this boy that squeezes your heart.

It’s creased down the middle between the two subjects, as though it's been folded for years.

You wonder if the younger girl is his sister. 

You'd asked him what he looked like when he was younger, that day in the restaurant. You never actually expected him to deliver. 

You clutch the image to your chest, thinking about the journey that young man had undergone to get to that moment, and what he must have done to get to where he is now. You don't know the details of that in between, but you want to. Someday, you hope he'll trust you enough to tell you. 

Donaka took your old journal, but you have a new one tucked into the drawer. You haven't actually managed to write anything in it yet. Something about absolutely knowing he will read whatever you write has stymied your creativity. But it feels like a safe place to store this new treasure, and you tuck it gingerly between the acid free pages.

You hope he hasn't left yet, and you get out of bed to look for him, pulling on your long robe as you go out the door. You slip out onto the terrace, the sub-tropical morning like magic before the heat of the day sets in. Quietly you pad barefoot on the stone, and you pause at a distance to admire the object of your search. 

To say he swims like a fucking merman is putting it lightly, crossing the infinity pool with powerful strokes, back and forth. You seat yourself silently on one of the deck chairs, watching him make his laps.

He erupts over the edge of the pool, his gaze immediately zeroing in on you. “Spying on me, bunny?”

You smile in answer. “You're not the only one who likes to watch.”

“Is that so?”

“The view from here is a solid ten.”

He smirks, because he knows he's beautiful, damn him. He crooks a finger at you. “Come here.”

“I don't have on my suit.”

“That's a problem why?”

“It’s too cold.”

“Don’t make me come get you.” He says it with a gleeful menace that suggests he would relish the chase.

Knowing you are doomed, you shrug out of your robe, and slowly pull your nightie over your head. You have long since numbed yourself to going about the house naked when Donaka demands it. All the staff have probably gotten an eyeful at some point, for which you are sorry. The heated look he pays you more than makes up for your embarrassment, going straight to your clit, and you narrow your eyes playfully, annoyed by your own desire, but totally resigned by now. You walk to the edge, stopping just out of reach with a hand on your hip.

“Closer.”

“Make me,” you taunt, diving over his head into the water.

You're an ok swimmer. You won't be winning Olympic gold anytime soon, but you can usually manage not to drown. 

All that goes out the window when Donaka Mark is after you. 

You barely make it mid-pool before he's got you in his clutches, his strong arm around your waist, and you almost drown yourself because you are laughing. 

“Breathe, bunny,” he scolds you, hoisting you out of the water and patting your back too hard, punishing you a little for defying him. 

You cling to his solid form like a limpet, coughing and laughing. He presses you back against the infinity edge of the pool, the water sluicing over. All too pleased with yourself, you smile at him, blinking the water out of your eyes. 

“Someone’s up early.”

“Hmm.” You kiss him, running your fingers through his wet hair. You think back on that photograph, remembering those luxuriously dark curls that framed his face. 

“You should grow your hair out,” you tease, spiking the hair at his temples.

He lifts an eyebrow to this, smirking at you. 

“Ah, you liked your little gift?”

You nod, biting your lip. “You were so pretty.”

“Were? Thank you, ingrate.”

“Well. You're devastatingly handsome now. If it's any consolation…” you begrudgingly admit.

An approving grumble emanates from deep in his chest, and he presses you into the side of the pool a little harder with a kiss, his hold on you migrating down to cup your bare ass.

“Who…is the girl?”

“Jealous?”

“I think it's your sister.”

“Clever little rabbit.”

“Where was that taken? Toronto?”

“New York. We moved there for one of my mother’s numerous boyfriends.”

“Oh. Does…she still live there?”

He shakes his head, but offers you no more, pinning you with that dark gaze. 

“What…was your life like, when that photo was taken?” 

“Chaotic.” 

“How so?” 

He growls at your litany of questions, grazing your shoulder with his teeth. “Were you in a motorcycle gang?” you tease him, thinking of that bitchin’ jacket. 

“Not exactly,” he deadpans. You pause, wondering if he means he was in a gang, period. “Would you believe me if I told you I was an angry young man?” 

Nooooo, not at all. 

You bite back your sarcasm, hoping for more. “I might.” You run your nails through the short hair at the back of his head, but he doesn’t elaborate, the silence stretching between you. You think that maybe he wants to tell you about his past. He wouldn’t have given you that photograph otherwise. But maybe, he doesn’t know how. 

So you hold him closer, kissing his neck and enjoying the warmth of his bare skin pressed to yours in the glittering blue water. 

“Don’t pity me,” he grouses, like he can feel what you're thinking.

“I’m not,” you assure him. “I’m fascinated by you.” 

“Hmm. Nosey girl,” he growls into your hair. 

“Like you can throw stones.” 

This earns you a grumble of laughter from deep in his chest. “Most of what I know about you, you put out there for anyone to find, if they knew where to look.” You’re pretty sure he also hacked your email, but you suppose that’s mostly true. 

“Ok. So why did you look?” 

“I was curious about you.” It’s the understatement of the century. He doesn’t admit to you that he uses his knowledge like power. You suppose he doesn’t have to. 

“Well. I’m curious about you.” You try to draw this parallel for him, hoping he’ll return the favor.  

It earns you a grumble and another long silence, this imposing man holding you just this side of too hard in the serenity of the early morning with the water lapping around you. You rest your head on his broad shoulder, savoring the quiet with him, feeling his pulse through the fever-heat of his bare skin pressed to yours. Even if he doesn’t want to talk anymore…this is enough. 

At the moment you come to accept the finality of the silence between you, he begins to speak. “We were dirt poor, and constantly moving from house to apartment to house, depending who my mother was fucking at the time. She had a steady stream of boyfriends, but no one who wanted to be a father to us. I hated being home, if you could call wherever we were crashing at the time that, so I was always out on the street, getting into trouble. Big trouble. I think I left for Macau…a week after that photo was taken.” 

You can’t help but think that it makes sense in a way, that enduring such a childhood with no stability made a man who relishes absolute control over everything.  

“You were so young.” 

“In face only. How old were you, when you left the country on your own for the first time?” 

“Nineteen.” 

“We’re not so different then.” 

You’d left to see the world, and maybe to look for something to fill the hole that we all have inside–not to avoid prosecution for a crime–but maybe it was similar in the end. 

“Why did you have to leave?” you dare ask, insufferably curious.

“One of mom’s boyfriends thought that my little sister came with the package. I had to correct him of that notion.” 

Your eyebrows raise high, a sick feeling in your belly. It’s possible you know more than you’d like about that scenario from your own mother’s selfish choices. You’re not sure if he’s implying he killed this man, or simply beat him, but you find…you don’t care. 

“Your sister’s lucky she had you.” 

“Maybe. My mother disowned me though. She said I was just like my father.” 

“Oh, Donaka. That’s not fair. What did you do then?”

“I went to go find him.” 

“How?” 

“I had my ways.” 

“Oh come on.” You nip at the bulging muscle of his shoulder, winning a growl that curls your toes under the water. 

“Macau is a place where you can gamble on anything in the back room. I found out he’d finally become a wealthy man running an underground, high stakes fighting ring.”

“This is starting to sound like the plot of a JCVD movie.” In your perhaps misguided way, you try to cheer him by cracking jokes.

“JCVD? I don’t even merit your beloved Jackie Chan?” 

You giggle. “Ok. Jet Li, maybe. Do you remember Romeo Must Die? I think it changed my brain chemistry as a teenager.” 

He snorts at that. Afraid that you’ve derailed his story, you prompt, “So…you got into the fighting ring?” You’ve seen him training, and he is scary. You imagine a younger version of him in the octagon could have drawn a hell of a crowd.

He grunts in acknowledgement, distracted by kissing a line down your neck, his long fingers inching towards your center, and you hitch in your speech as you ask, “Did he…know who you were?” 

“Not at first.” There’s no emotion in those three words, but you sense a sea of fury beneath them, deep deep down. 

“What…happened?” 

“I won enough fights to get his attention. He was so impressed he offered me a place in his organization. Then, I destroyed him.”

You go still in his arms as this sinks in. You can’t shake that he means that he killed his father, and maybe many others too. But after what Donaka told you his father did when he was just a child…practically a baby…maybe you don’t blame him. Maybe you understand his need for revenge all too well.  “Are…you worried the 14k might come after you someday for that?”

“They split themselves into smaller factions of operation to limit liability, if someone gets caught. Anyone who ever knew anything about my involvement is gone. Except for you, now.” 

Gooseflesh erupts down your arms as you realize there is a responsibility as well as a threat folded into this information you so badly wanted to possess. Not that you would ever be able to prove anything to anyone, but the power of a stray word can turn into a big wave, in the right circumstances. He is both trusting you–and binding you even further to him. 

“Then what?” you ask, realizing with a new finality just how deeply you’re in now. You can’t say you were still actively thinking about going home lately, but something about this new revelation succeeds in pushing you off center somehow.  

“I came to Hong Kong with the nest egg I’d earned. I had inside experience with how the Triads worked. I used it to offer wealthy businessmen protection from them. And as you can see…that’s gone well for me.” 

You draw back to look at him, studying his handsome features. You’d sensed from the very beginning that he was a man who was quite capable of terrible things. But then, sometimes that’s what it takes in this hard world, and it’s hard to feel sorry for the boyfriend who made a pass at an underage girl, or his father, a man who wanted to hurt his own children, then abandoned them. Are your morals so flexible, or do you just know you’re no one to judge amidst the life you’ve lived in comparison?   

You should be horrified, but you're not. 

You shouldn't want him, but oh, you still do.

“That would make a hell of a Jackie Chan movie,” you tell him with a small smile, lightening the mood just enough to win you that sardonic smirk you’ve come to hold so dear. 

“Finally, the recognition I deserve,” he scoffs, fixing you with that gimlet stare that should scare the piss out of you, but instead…fills you with something effervescent and light. 

You do need your head examined. 

“So you like martial arts movies,” he muses, paying you a contemplative look that makes you nervous somehow. “Have you ever watched a real fight?” 

You know, because he’s told you, that that’s where he goes on the evenings when he doesn’t return until the wee hours of the morning. You realize he must have a particular appreciation for the sport, after having participated in such things himself. 

“I’ve been to a few peewee tae kwon do tournaments in my day,” you tease. “I’ve even got the little gold plastic trophy to prove it.”

This makes him throw back his head with wicked laughter, amused, as ever, by your cheek. No one else in the world would dare, he thinks to himself. He knows that part of your bravery comes from the fact that you still don’t understand, even after his confession to you, what kind of monster has you in his arms. And part of it…part of it is just you, and he is never going to let you go. 

“Pee wee tae kwon do. Aren’t you adorable.” 

“So I hear.” 

“How did I not know that about you?” 

“It was a dark time, before every move we made was immortalized on the internet…”

He huffs with reluctant laughter. “I see. So you’re initiated. Does that mean you’d like to see a real fight with me?” There is a sudden hunger in his gaze, his lips parted with the eagerness of a tiger tasting the wind. You can’t help but notice that he is rock hard between your legs, his cock pressing insistently against you as his gaze bores into yours. 

Perhaps you whetted his appetite, accepting his confession of his past sins so easily, but he finds he wants to share this with you. 

But you, oblivious to the sudden firestorm erupted in his heart, backpedal at the sudden bloodlust in his eyes. “Do people get really hurt?” 

“The fights I attend are a test of true warriors, not a suburban blackbelt league.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling uneasy, partly at the thought of the bloodsport, and partly for the hungry way he’s suddenly looking at you. “Can I think about it?” 

You know you’ve disappointed him, for the way his expression immediately closes off from you. “Nevermind, bunny. I don’t think you’d like it.” Maybe he was tempted by the chance to be accepted completely by you for everything that he is, horns, claws, and all…what a foolish notion. He knows better than to expose that underbelly to anyone who is not blooded. What was he thinking? 

Perhaps it’s not only teenage boys, who forget to reason with their real brains when a beautiful woman is around. 

You find you’re disappointed to have the chance to go with him to these mysterious nocturnal outings snatched completely from the table. You stick out your lip, sensing you’ve let him down. 

“Maybe…let me watch some more tournaments with you first. I do like that.”

“Hmm.” His interest sharpens again; you feel it like the weight of a blade upon your skin. “Do you miss doing martial arts?”

You shrug. “I was very young.”

“Are you liking your book on Tai Chi?”

“It’s interesting.”

“Alright, bunny. We’ll see then.” 

Before you can answer his mouth is slanted over yours, and with a pull at the fabric of his shorts he has buried himself inside you. He fucks you against the side of the pool, your nipples in his mouth as he bends you back over the edge.

You feel like you might fall off the side of the world, with him thrusting inside you, your body tumbling off into the void, right behind your sanity. As he fills you with hot ropes of his seed, your greedy cunt milking his cock through your own ecstasy, you know that you’re utterly lost to this man–you’re just lucid enough to recognize it, but much too far gone to care. 

all chapters

[teeth-wanted]

Proposal for one (1) Telsa Problem:

Okay, call me an idiot who is way too generous, but I was raised on this principle: don't give people too much credit. I guarantee, people are way dumber than you think. To be fair, it's not *sheer* stupidity. Humans as a species are hard-wired to consciously and unconsciously make life relatively more comfortable when given the opportunity. Being comfortable in late-stage capitalism means thriving from others' stolen labor. People who can afford Teslas aren't free from this sin. Neither are we.

Point 1: gurl we gotta give some grace to the fuckheads who are now realizing their investments tie them to a Nazi. Yes, it took them wayyyyy too long to get this this realization, but I say be positive. Be glad they're here now.

Anyways, I was watching some videos that talked about how Teslas and Tesla-owners are being attacked due to the growing public outrage towards Musk and his actions. In a lot of these, we hear Tesla owners lamenting the losses they've accumulated since the election and how they can't get rid of the cars no matter how hard they try.

Point(s) 2 & 3: A lot of people want to vent their rage on Teslas. A lot of Tesla-owners want to get rid of Teslas.

My proposal is this: so like, does anyone wanna help me start a charity or campaign in which we'd legally buy unwanted Teslas that had been verifiably purchased prior to the 2025 inauguration (like, proof of purchase or a title or something like that) and allow our righteously angry fellow Americans (or like, whoever buys a $5 ticket or makes a donation) the chance to beat the shit out of those cars like it's the world's greatest Rage Room.

Financial and Administrative Support Needed for the Following Items (nonexhaustive):

Acquiring suitable protective gear (PPE)

Rage Room insurance (the usual stuff a business would have)

Locating and legally securing land for the proposed demolition sites

Training and maintaining staff (first aid, de-escalation, etc.)

Securing funds to pay off Tesla-owners remaining payments (not including any interest accrued if financed with a bank or credit union outside of Tesla or Musk's domain)

Advertisement/social media (like, not much. I can do this myself, actually, but like it is something to consider)

Do I like the idea of paying off Tesla debts? Fuck no. I'm a housekeeper. I've been lower class/below the poverty line most my life. I'm beyond pissed off by the state of our government.

But I can't get ahold of my congressman. He's refusing to hold public town halls, like many others throughout the country. The Trump Administration is drooling at the any and all chances to demonize the American public's justified outrage, and I'm sick and tired of having my voice shot down. Words are not enough, and all of our actions are being weaponized against us.

And, at the end of the day, we can't keep hurting each other when we have more dangerous threats ahead. If buying some rich guy's Tesla and letting him and his fellow angry voters take a sledgehammer to it for an hour or five, if that's what it takes for people to find an inch of common ground, if that's what it takes for me to be able to legally smash the shit out of an overpriced lemon of a fascist symbol, fuck it. I want it.

And I think, deep down, ya'll want that, too.

Intended Outcomes of Proposal:

Providing a legal and effective venue to vent frustrations regarding the current administration.

Allowing previous Tesla-owners some grace and space within the anti-Tesla community (ie most of the sane world rn)

Strengthening ties between the impacted economic classes and unifying their anger towards the actual tyrants that are screwing us all over

Emphasizing the height of the American public's outrage by using newly acquired rage room footage to advertise and reach concerned Tesla-owners and partners who have unwanted Tesla merchandise and stocks.

TLDR: people are stupid and suck and lets all be nicer to each other and legally smash unwanted Tesla cars.

I will be taking notes, thank you for your consideration :)

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 1

A/N: New series! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

This is an AU set in regency England where Elvis is a gentleman with a large estate. Also introducing a new OC: Annabelle Martin. I hope you love their story! It's a looooong one, so settle in, friends.

Warnings: NONE YET, this will get smutty (obvi, have ya met me?), but it'll be a slow burn with lots of tension, so no real warnings other than I guess the mention of parents dying

Word count: ~1.9k

Annabelle takes a deep breath and arranges herself to knock on the large servant's door at the back of the great house. This is to be her first day at her new place of employment and to say she is nervous would be an understatement. She has undergone training as a maid, but this is her first real job. Her hope was to be married to some sweet farm boy before she needed to use these skills, but the death of her mother two years ago and her father last month has resulted in her current predicament. She is an orphan of no consequence with no one left to look after her and no marriage prospects. Thankfully, her aunt, a barmaid at the inn with some hidden connection to the family, secured this position for her at Graceland Manor. The letter she has clutched in her fist states she should report directly to the master himself. This is certainly unique as it is typically the housekeeper who would have hired her, but her aunt's connection is to Colonel Presley himself and not the staff. This is beyond unique, but she has learned not to question affairs of the heart when they happen to other people.

She lifts her trembling hand and raps her knuckles on the door. Nothing happens immediately, so she waits a few seconds and knocks again. Finally, the door swings open and a handsome young footman with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes greets her. He manages his initial shock when he realizes how pretty she is, her dark hair curled perfectly and blue eyes rimmed with feathery black lashes. His smile is genuine as he opens his mouth to speak.

"May I help you, miss?"

"I am Annabelle Martin. I'm here to see Colonel Presley about a position as a maid." His smile falls and he looks down at his feet, clearing his throat.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, miss." Her heart flutters with nervousness. She has nowhere else to go.

"I must, sir. Please."

"As much as I would love to take you to him, Colonel Presley died a week ago." She swallows hard.

"He... died?"

"Unfortunately so. A fever took him swiftly in less than a fortnight." Annabelle searches her mind for her next step. If this does not work out, she will be on the streets.

"May I see the housekeeper?"

"Mrs. Davenport?"

"Yes, I suppose. Please." He can read the desperation in her face.

"Alright then, come along." She follows as he opens the door wider and beckons her inside. He leads her to a small office and introduces her to Mrs. Davenport. Rather than trying to explain herself, Annabelle thrusts the letter forward for her to read. She watches as the older lady's eyes skim the words.

"Report directly to Colonel Presley himself?! Where did you get this?"

"My aunt delivered it. She said it was from Colonel Presley and that I should bring it and arrive on this date. Is it not in his handwriting?" Mrs. Davenport raises her eyebrows.

"It is." Annabelle breathes shakily as she watches the housekeeper try to come to a decision about what to do. "I will have to take you to the young master. I cannot make this decision when it is so clear what his father wanted, though for what reason I cannot understand. Come."

With that, Mrs. Davenport walks hastily out of the room through the kitchen and up the back stairs to the main level of the house. Annabelle does her best to keep her mouth closed as she takes in the overt splendor of the rooms. She's never been in a place like this with so much to see in every corner. She's so busy taking in the walls and furniture that she doesn't notice him at first. In fact, she hears him before she sees him, his smooth baritone echoing in the great hall.

"My father wanted what exactly?" When she does finally turn to look at him, her eyes widen. If she thought the home was stunning, it is nothing compared to the undeniable beauty of the man himself. His dark hair is windswept and falls perfectly on his forehead, just above eyes of the deepest cerulean. He has the bone structure of a Greek statue with thick brown lashes and heart-shaped lips that could be made of storm clouds. Eventually it dawns on her that he's speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"What was it my father wanted with you?" He says it slowly like he thinks she might have difficulty comprehending.

"To offer me a position as a housemaid. He told my aunt there was an opening-"

"There is not. Not one that I am aware of. Molly and Sarah are still here?" He turns to the housekeeper and she responds affirmatively. "We have no need of you."

He turns dismissively, but Annabelle has no other option. She must appeal to him somehow.

"Please! Sir, I am an orphan. I have nowhere else to go." Initially, her impertinence catches him off guard, but when she mentions that her parents are dead, he turns back to her abruptly. He's all too familiar with that feeling now, his mother having died 25 years ago giving birth to him. His eyes rake over her face, seemingly searching for something.

"Fine. We will have a third maid. Give her the kitchen maid's room, since Mrs. Hall insists she doesn't need one." With that, he turns and walks from the room.

Mrs. Davenport turns back to Annabelle and huffs. It's clear she doesn't approve of the decision, but she cannot contradict the Master, even if he doesn't seem to know what he's doing in his new position. She begins the journey back down to the servants' quarters with Annabelle close behind her. When they reach their destination in the kitchen downstairs, she turns to Annabelle with her lips pursed.

"I suppose you have experience as a maid. Where else have you worked?" Annabelle swallows hard.

"No, ma'am. This is to be my first job."

"No experience?! How old are you?!"

"I'm 18, ma'am."

"How is this possible?"

"My father was a farmer. I worked with him there until he died last month. But I have trained." Mrs. Davenport scoffs. Just then, a young girl in a maid uniform with red hair and freckles bounces into the room.

"Molly! Come here and meet Annabelle, the new maid. You will be responsible for teaching her the role." Molly nods and walks over to Annabelle. She looks to be about fifteen.

"You haven't worked before?" Her eyes widen and Annabelle sighs.

"No, I haven't. But I'm a good worker. I'll learn quickly." Mrs. Davenport's eyes narrow.

"You had better. Now, go with Molly and put your things away. She will get you a uniform and you can begin after lunch." Annabelle nods and follows Molly up to the sleeping quarters, pausing at a closet to fetch two uniforms.

"Did she say which room will be yours? Surely she doesn't expect you to share with us." Molly says nervously.

"No, Mr. Presley said I should have the kitchen maid's room."

"You will have your own room?! Hm. I wonder what you've done to earn that privilege." Annabelle shrugs. She didn't choose this. Molly continues down the hallway to a room at the end of the corridor.

"This is you. We're right next door. And that-" she gestures to the door at the end of the hall next to Annabelle's door. "-leads to the house. It's locked from their side, so they can enter our quarters but we cannot go to theirs. Now put your things away, get changed, and come back down." Molly turns to walk away.

"Thank you." Annabelle calls out to her back. Molly nods curtly and takes off down the hallway again.

Annabelle goes into her room and begins to get settled. She looks around at the barren white walls, the simple frame bed, and small wardrobe. A sob threatens to choke her as she remembers her cozy little house on the farm with so many books and warm fires and comfortable furniture. She was only able to bring what she could carry in a small package, which means she had to leave all the books behind. Her heart aches thinking about them and the fact that she'll have nothing to read here. Perhaps she could ask Mr. Presley if she could use the library.

Mr. Presley. She doubts that he will say yes to anything she has to say. He spoke to her as if she were a child and treated her like she was less than that. He didn't even ask her name. It's true he softened a bit when she mentioned being an orphan, but it's not enough to counteract his rudeness. Maybe she's just not used to interacting with members of his social class and this is what she should expect from now on. Either way, she has no intentions of interacting with him again, if she can help it.

Then, she remembers that she's supposed to be changing and hastily dresses in the uniform Molly gave her. It's a little big, so she'll have to do some alterations tonight after dinner, assuming she's allowed a candle in her room and a needle and thread. She looks around the room and sighs, checking her reflection in the small round glass by the chamber pot. Finally, she makes her way back down the stairs to begin.

******

Mr. Presley stands at the window in the study, looking out over the grounds. How did this happen? He was not supposed to take over the estate for at least another decade. By then he should've been married with children, ready for this kind of responsibility. But now? At 25? He is nowhere near prepared.

Thankfully, the army granted him a leave to take care of things, but he still has two more years to serve before his term is complete and he can sell his commission. He might've liked to rise in the ranks, like his father had, to become a Colonel before this, but now he has no choice but to come home and manage the estate.

And then there's the matter of getting married. A house like this needs a lady to keep everything running smoothly. Besides that, the prospect of living in all these rooms completely alone is a daunting one. Of course the servants are there, but it's not like when he was a child and the strict lines between them were blurred behind the walls of the home. He cannot rely on them for companionship.

For some reason, thinking of companionship brings to his mind the new maid. She is painfully pretty, with her soft white skin and full pink lips. And there is an elegance about her that transcends her station, almost like she was born to be a lady but circumstance had other plans. He hadn't intended to hire her, but the knowledge that she has nowhere else to go made it impossible for him not to. Oh well. Obviously, it's what his father wanted and the estate can afford it. He tries to recall if he asked her name, but if he did he doesn't remember it.

He's shaken from his reverie about the maid when the butler interrupts and announces his lawyer, Mr. Crawford, come to discuss more details of the estate. Mr. Presley sighs and turns from the window. Will the responsibility of this new life never end?

******

To be continued...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity

[paingoes]

Destroyer - Thorns

(Masterlist)

(Content: physical abuse, verbal abuse, living weapon whump, degredation, dehumanization)

Weeks passed, the majority of them spent upon the freshly mobilized battleship. Paris had named it Thorn, but in every briefing it was translated to “Splinter”. He’d wanted to move away as quickly as possible, but the ship was being pulled back into the bay for repairs every other day. The typical ambiance of the active craft was now frequently punctuated by the sound of construction. It grew worse by the day, just as bad for the passengers as it was for their enemies. Paris learned to sleep through the depressurization alarms.

Delta was adjusting to the new space. His new room was smaller than his previous one, but it was still spacious. Beyond that, he was often allowed to leave it. Paris said he wanted to know where Delta was all hours of the day, in theory, but he often so busy he forgot to check up. It was the most freedom of moment Delta had been given in a long time. He walked the ship’s floors silently, haunting it. The people aboard know who he was and they left him alone. He was glad.

When they did eventually get the ship up and running, capable of more than sprints, most of the crew had already been debriefed on the new management. Delta had received training from the maid service in some basic housekeeping tasks, such as cooking, cleaning, and sewing. For some reason, this greatly upset both his handlers. Simon saw it as a waste of Delta’s time, while Martino saw it as undignified for his rank. The latter confused Delta; it was the only time the doctor ever seemed to care about his dignity. Nevertheless, they convinced Paris that it wasn’t right for Delta to be used as some interchangeable staff. Paris relented, agreeing that Delta would only serve him and his court, keeping all things within the dynasty.

The upshot of this was that Delta spent a lot more time in proximity of Paris - and was kept under much closer watch. Paris did not always need or even want him around, but much of Delta’s day was structured around this arrangement. By the first month, they’d settled into a tentative schedule.

When Paris didn’t have any mission in mind, which was most days, Delta was dismissed to go train. He’d find Dr.Martino, who would run the first round of tests on him, checking vitals and his blood chemistry, seeing how conductive his veins were to the electricity that pulsed through them. Then, he got passed onto Simon to run drills.

The psionic drills had to be done in a closed environment. On the ship, they had to go for low intensity, so as not to cause damage to the hull. But Simon made up for it, forcing Delta to do high-precision and high-focus work. An exercise that Simon had grown very fond of was having Delta stick blades into the walls, arranging them in different shapes. It required him to focus and manipulate dozens of blades at once and move them independently, without causing them to crash into each other. It also required forceful stabbing, which was a good skill to have at that point.

It wasn’t the kind of outburst that would cause him to faint, but it did exhaust him. Simon would force him to go at it for several hours, stopping at his own leisure, never Delta’s. He’d only be released in the late afternoon. Before, Simon would take the time to tutor him, but now lacked both the resources and the energy. He still gave Delta any books he thought he would need, which would have been fine if he had the time to read them. Delta barely had enough time to eat before Paris would summon him again.

Paris called him into his room or into his office. He’d order Delta to kneel and keep him there most of the night. If Paris was busy, Delta would sit in silence, nothing more than an ornament for the room. Paris would smack him if he fidgeted too much, but that was all.

“I should make you wear a bell,” He joked whenever Delta couldn’t hold still. Delta, of course, did not see the point of this. It was on nights where Paris had nothing better to do that he got his explanation.

On slow nights, Paris would rake his fingers through Delta’s hair, placing them at the base of his neck. Delta shivered at the touch, which would only cause Paris to tighten his grasp. Paris looked over him like he was an insect, a mix of contempt and curiosity. His voice was low.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Delta didn’t respond, which was all the confirmation Paris needed. He took a fistful of Delta’s hair, yanking him closer. He tsked, “There’s that fucking face again. Admit it. You think you’re too good for this.”

Delta winced. There was no answer Paris would accept; he knew that. The whole point of this was to break him down. “I do, yeah,” Delta admitted, seconds before Paris smacked his head into the desk.

“Fuck,” Delta muttered to himself. Paris kicked him onto his back, not even moving from his desk chair.

“I knew it,” Paris smirked, crossing his legs, “It’s okay, though. It doesn’t matter what you think. You’re an object. The way you feel about your position has no bearing at all on the way you’ll act. You’re still gonna do what I say, right? Or I’ll have to remind you how this works?”

Delta rubbed his head, not looking at him. Stupid. Just an exercise in futility. He never needed reminding, never had. He couldn’t tell if the prince was actually that insecure or if he was just messing with him. It did not come off as a serious exchange. Paris was nothing like his father.

“Sit back up and fucking answer me,” Paris said.

Delta crawled back onto his knees. “Yes, Your Highness,” he answered wearily. Paris moved to slap him again and he flinched.

Paris withdrew his hand.

“Good. You’re dismissed.” He nodded. After a minute, he added. “Go put ice on that, I don’t want your face to swell.” .

“Yes, Your Highness,” Delta got to his feet, lightheaded. He brushed his hair back into place, sparing no further looks.

[thephonemenarentreal]

You rang, good technos? The Master Jeeves has arrived to provide the best in service for all parties!

On the Pleasure Cruise, the Jeeves are the serving staff. The bartenders, housekeeping, casino staff, pool staff...anything that has to deal with the customer service in the Conglomerates mobile cruise ship city. Each Jeeves Unit is trained vigorously under the watch of the Master Jeeves, who is the personal attendant to Mr. Venture.

Master Jeeves is a large camera, polished and poised and who will never let your glass go empty or your pillow unfluffed. Service is probably his first name!

MORE LORE UNDER THE CUT <3

Master Jeeves real name is not known or if he ever had one. What is known is that he is ex-Alliance and was part of the early assaults against the toilets but quickly joined the Conglomerate upon meeting Mr. Venture.

He prides himself on his impeccable manners, great service, and the best massages on the Pleasure Cruise. Always polite, never cusses, and remains poised. Makes very sensible little jokes and good humor. A master of wit, he is able to defeat sass soundly.

He is trained in combat and if he must, he will beat the living bolts out of someone who is being a hassle at a party, especially with honored guests and executive board members present.

He speaks several languages and makes a point to use the language that a guest most prefers.

The man moves fast for a large unit and very gracefully as he weaves in and out, balancing trays of alcohol like a tower on a plate in one hand to everyone.

The Jeeves unit was one of the first units created for the Conglomerate under Master Jeeves' tutelage and he has personally monitor the training of new units ever since.

He has also trained skibidis and humans into branches of the Jeeves unit to cater to the needs of other residents of the cruise.

Master Jeeves knows how to cook and cook very well. He is also a master of mixology, coming up with the new bar specials across the ship.

He also brews all the alcohol on the ship and tends to the expansive interior botanical gardens that are only open to those with executive permissions or are signed up for the rare tours of the gardens.

He and Mizzenmast are extremely close friends, both having a more stoic personality, putting guest enjoyment above all else, and also rather fed up with some people on board. They meet in the captain's helm to play cards every Thursday and chat.

He has a pair of brass knuckles to put on when he has to deal with the worse guests. But also has various large guns hidden around the party halls that he can pull out is need be.

Sometimes he plays old timey films on retro-film night from his actual head for the amusement of guests.

His massages are legendary and are said to relieve months of stress in mere moments under his firm, but gentle hands. Stress is his bitch and he shall sooth it away.

He can catch a falling stack of plates without breaking one. He can pull off a table cloth without knocking anything over. He can carry mountains of plates to a dining room without jostling a single one out of place. One unit tripped and their drink went flying and he caught the glass on a serving platter and the spilled drink back in the cup with the olive on top. The man is legendary for his service instincts.

He finds speakers amusing and their shenanigans amusing when they aren't on his staff. He is a bit more forgiving in telling them off.

He is VERY harsh on his Jeeves if they do anything that shames the name of the unit. This usually means banishing them to duties off the floor like doing laundry, cleaning the hull of the ship, or going down into the Bilges to tidy up. Those Jeeves in the last one tend to have a short shelf life...thus is the jobs for the failures.

However, if the mistake is on the customer, he does not subscribe to the idea that the customer is always right. He reviews the footage and if the customer is in the wrong, he will be merciless in putting their mistakes out there and ruining them for daring to accuse his staff of failure. How dare you.

People who don't tip their Jeeves get put on longer wait lists and have longer to wait for room service and if they complain to Master Jeeves he will point out their lack of gratitudes.

No one can plan a wedding like Master Jeeves. Every wedding he plans is a beautifully set affair, matching the tastes of those getting hitched, well catered, decorated, and he does an excellent job of making sure everything runs smoothly and even can officiate the ceremonies. Many units have a dream of having a Master Jeeves provided wedding...but they are expensive unless a favor is owed or you know someone with connections to get one.

Master Jeeves always remembers those who helped him and always likes to repay his debts. If it is in his power to help, he certainly will, even for those few faces from his brief Alliances days.

No one has been able to sass Master Jeeves. His dry wit and overwhelming sarcasm is unflappable. Also he will give the sassy what they want in the most literal sense, much to their horror or embarrassment.

Questioning his service or complaining will have him calling about Mizzenmast to go by a play by play of the customer's poor behavior, pointing out the flaws in their logic and televising it for all the ship to see. If he does make an actual mistake, he will accept it graciously and consider he owes that person a favor.

Apparently he is engaged but he neither confirms or denies this. Nor does anyone know who actually that person would be as no one has ever seen Master Jeeves off duty doing anything for fun. He's always in the company of the executive board members.

Jericho and Master Jeeves are friends, mostly as both know how to handle and communicate with the Recyclers and the others of their ilk. Just Master Jeeves does it better without getting injured or shot. They often need to work together professionally.

Master Jeeves is aware of Charybdis and delivers their mail and requests to their hangar and makes a point to not startle them. They also bluntly suggested that Charybdis stop having pointless dreams about the Alliance: "Unless you want to be reduced to a weapon meant only to fight, work, and little else,"

Some believe that Master Jeeves has a whole second life, changing his head and blending into the crowds when off duty which is why no one sees him off duty. The residents have been trying to prove or disprove this.

Master Jeeves might have been a camerawoman in his Alliance days, so it is said. When asked, Master Jeeves chuckles and simply says, "When you make a change in life, sometimes best to change everything to how you wish to be after the assembly line did things wrong,"

His opinion on the Alliance is rather neutral, as he sees them as any military, although he notes that in his experience, there is a habit of the higher ups to see units, especially those mass produced for combat as "little more than canon fodder"

Master Jeeves says he does have relatives in the Alliance though, although he doesn't keep in contact with them. "A gossipy pair of brats on my sister's side..."

Master Jeeves has a really uncanny ability to know where TVs are going to teleport into and stand behind them to ask if he can help them, giving them a jumpscare every time. How he does it, he merely says, "It was obvious of course. When has a TV not gone for the dramatics or snooping angle of entering an establishment?"

Master Jeeves is the only Jeeves that knows the mixes for the "secret Titan mixed drinks" that are only served to semi-titans and titans at any given party. The mix is specially crafted for their large sizes without sacrificing pleasant flavors.

The fact that Master Jeeves has cherries big enough to put in a Titan's drink is a testament to his adherence to having class in everything he does.

Master Jeeves has no regrets about leaving the Alliance, having not been in it long enough to have many attachments and certainly no desire to serve in the combat. He states dryly he gets more respect serving drinks and fluffing pillows than he did in a single day in the Alliance. "I choose whom I offer services to and what I wish to do, and this makes me happy and I do not feel like I am hardware to be used. What more is there to inquire about?"

[redfountainpostin]

I headcanon Riven as a rocker type guy, but I don't think he wears a lot of black. He's not against the color, it's just a bit boring for him plus he associates it with funerals so it's meh to him most of the time. His wardrobe, in my head, is Maneskin inspired but with more pinks and cherries, and a few reds (like the combo on the strawberry shirt) and of course most of his clothes cover up more (but I'll defend the 70's boy crop top look until I die- I actually hc that it is quite fashionable for boys and girls alike in Magix, Riven is actually most fashion forward of the group- Timmy does have his very flattering Sheldon style (yes I said it XD) and Helia is doing his own thing, while Sky doesn't know what his style would even be and Brandon wears the clothes that his dresser sends over). Riven's style is mostly inspired by the music scene and his favorite color, which is pink. He doesn't put a lot of thought into his clothes, but it's there. And yes, that sometimes makes him the only pink thing in the crowd of black, but when you have that dog in you that's no issue. Riven doesn't see an issue with wearing a lot of pink because his HAIR is pink, it's already a done deal, why fight it? @daydreamsia ohhh I know you mentioned black nailpolish, but what about black cherry? And I do think all this is a bit confusing to Bloom, who is used to aggressive, biting guys like Riven dressing extremely masculine- so being barked at by a tall, muscular guy dressed in the strawberry shirt is very odd. The overall pink look is broken up by the fact that he usually wears parts of his uniform out, so the pink/red/cherry is usually balanced with cream, blue, and sometimes black and/or camouflage. When I was a kid I didn't think the blue and cream uniforms were badass enough so I hced them as black, but then Fate did and we hate fate plus it showed me it's kinda really boring. So while I do think they'd have like, one black think, it's not so much a uniform as something they wear for a very particular training/mission, they don't have that many of those issued to them anyways; they have a few cami gears, which is what they'd wear when going to Black Mud Swamp (not contradicting Episode Black Mud Swamp because they weren't meant to be there anyways) and the rest is blue/cream, with maybe a fancier version of their canon ones being ceremonial ones. Also, yes, red fountain basically supplies a near damn whole wardrobe because teenage boys are shit at keeping up with their laundry (they do it themselves- in Alphea housekeeping does it) and the boys won't mind rewearing dirty clothes mostly but the STAFF most certainly does. DID, actually, and that's why they started issuing more clothes to the boys instead of like just 2 pairs. Has anyone noticed that I want the strawberry shirt? Bc I want the strawberry shit god DAMN it I don't even dare to look up the price. Should I do it? Do I deserve a little something something?? (is it even still in the rotation???) (so many questions) I also saw a kick ass lounge chair I want. I don't have a lounge. Honestly the day I don't wake up and want something ridiculously expensive is the day hell freezes over lmfao.

[untilnextchapter]

Masterlist : Marvel

Marvel Cinematic Universe

* = Smut (Minors DNI) || 🦋 = Series || Beware of the TW please

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Do you love Bucky series? @justkending is the writer for you! Here are some of my favourites:

Finding Memories 🦋 (Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader, Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?)

The Number One Rule 🦋 (Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor’s degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left. But don’t worry, the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other’s buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized?)

The Slip Up 🦋 (Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader, After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.)

So, my number one for smutty Bucky is the wonderful @sinner-as-saint. Here are a few of my favourites:

Capital Letters * 🦋 (Bucky AU x Fem!Reader, You were fortunate enough to work for who was considered to be one of the best, most admired and affluent authors of your time; Mr. James Buchanan Barnes. And soon, things weren’t so professional between you and the man…)

His Obsession * (Mob!Seb x Housekeeper!Reader, You work for the notorious mob boss. You’re at his house regularly; tidying up and cleaning and surprisingly you’re not scared of him like the rest of his staff are. Sure he is authoritative, and mean but he’s never disrespectful or inappropriate, nor does he bark orders at you like he does with the guys. And you were almost certain that he barely pays attention to you. Until one evening he confronts you about something. And what starts out heated, ends in a night neither of you will ever forget…)

Miscellaneous Authors:

Diner Girl || @ofstarsandvibranium (Fem!Reader, After coming across a small diner, he becomes enamoured with you, a waitress)

Set me free || @intrepidacious (Bucky x Nymph!Reader, Once upon a time, a soldier fell from a train. Thankfully, this time, he is found by gentle hands, and a beautiful voice keeps him safe from the cold)

Heal me, baby || @/intrepidacious (Bucky x Nurse!Reader, Your friendship starts with you cleaning up his wounds and Bucky paying to get the blood stains out of your couch. Something else starts, too)

Nightingale’s Song 🦋 || @thatfanficstuff (Barnes x OC, James Buchanan Barnes. Captain America’s best friend. Hydra’s secret weapon. A man lost in time who can’t remember his own name let alone those he held most dear. Florence Anna Charles. A nurse on the front in World War II. A mutant in a time they weren’t known. A woman who can heal with a touch that catches the attention of Hydra)

Lessons in Love || @violentdelightsandviolentends (Bucky x Fem!Reader, Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.)

[Not Named] || @terry-perry (Dad!Buck x Fem!Reader, Can I request of Jack is clinging on Y/n like koala. Like when Bucky try to pry him off of her but he said “No! I’m staying with mommy and protect her!”)

Mood lighting || @frankieetaylorr (1930s!Bucky x Fem!wheelchair-user!Reader, You never understood why he always came to the dances your resident home threw but you were always so glad when he did)

TW: brief mention of abandonment

Secret Book Club || @starks-hero (40’s!Bucky x Reader, Bucky’s got a new book and he just can’t seem to put it down)

Instinct || @dilemmaontwolegs (FATWS!Bucky x Blind!Fem!Reader, After trying to stop a mugging before Bucky intervenes as reward is offered and so he tracks you down)

Fall into Winter * 🦋 [Ao3] || Miajah (Bucky x Reader, Mae was just doing her civic duty when she saved Iron Man, now she can't seem to get rid of him. Then there was the Winter Soldier and of course Captain America himself. A girl can't catch a break)

Running From the Past * 🦋 [Ao3] || @green-eyeddragonfanfiction (Buck x Mutant!Reader, Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escapes without being seen when the Avengers attack the Hydra compound she’s been kept in for the last 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She’s now on the run, avoiding both Hydra and SHIELD)

Steve Rogers x Reader

You and Me Together 🦋 || @/ofstarsandvibranium (Single Parent Steve x Fem!Reader, After the death of his wife, Sharon, Steve Rogers is now the single parent of their daughter, Grace. Three years after his wife’s death, his friends convince him to go back into the dating game)

Not a Perfect Princess || @shmaptainwrites || (Steve x Princess!Reader, Reader meets one of the heros who saved her country and realizes around him she doesn’t have to be a perfect princess)

Making the Team || @heliads (Dad!Steve x Daughter!Reader, The reader is the daughter of natasha and steve, and she is nervous about for her first mission. Her mom and dad tell her that everything is gonna be great, and the mission is complete, but the reader is badly injured and her parents and Bruce takes care of her)

10 Years Time 🦋 || @/justkending (Steve x Stark!Daughter!Reader, As princess of Alberia, it is your duty to grow into a rightful young lady if you plan on ruling your family’s country. Of course, the only way your father can see this happening is sending you off to a boarding camp at the age of 14 for 10 years to learn what it means to grow into a Queen.That means leaving all your friends and family behind. One specific person, your best friend, you never want to say goodbye to. But 10 years later, you come back grown into a young lady, and find your best friend has grown into a knightly young man. How will you two adjust after 10 years apart? Will things be the same, or will all that’s happened in that span of time affect your relationship?)

Tony Stark x Reader

Dum-E || @mostly-marvel-musings (Tony x Fem!Reader, DUM-E has probably tried petting Tony's hair with his grabby claw when Tony falls asleep in the lab because he's seen you do it and noticed that Tony likes it)

Hot Chocolate and Hoodies || @deadlymistletoe (Tony x Fem!Reader, A dare involving a hoodie eventually leads to hidden feelings being revealed)

Maybe to annoy you || @specialagentlokitty (Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, Tony's daughter and she has a crush on Steve, like everytime she sees him she blushes and Tony is a little annoyed)

Two Wicks, One Flame * 🦋 [Ao3] || AmberSnapeBlack (Tony x Soulmate!OC, Emma has had it rough her whole life. Her experiences have shaped her into who she is today, a twenty three year old bus girl with no self esteem or backbone. She hates the lime light...well she hates socializing at all. She has never paid her soul mark any mind. Most days, she forgets it even exists. That will change for her in a way she never anticipated. What comes with bearing the soul mark of the man who is the forefront of the Avengers? Who is almost always in lime light? Who is possibly, already taken? Does she want to know?)

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Little Love || @/ofstarsandvibranium (Loki x Short!Reader, where the reader is super short)

Shatter This Glass And Set Me Free * 🦋 [Ao3] || @shiningloki || (Loki x OC, Loki hasn't seen the light of day in years. He has been locked away in Stark Tower, waiting for Odin to free him of his punishment after his attack on New York. He's angry, he's spiteful, but most of all, he's lonely. It is not until one day when a new face comes along Stark Tower that everything begins to change. She's different from the rest. She's trusting, she's curious, and she's willing to give Loki a chance at companionship that no one has ever offered him)

The Eyes of the Beholder 🦋 || @/starks-hero (Gorgon!Loki x Blind!Reader, Loki has spent years in solitude, hidden away in the mountains south of Athens. Having been cursed by the gods for his trickery, anyone that sets eyes on him shall turn to stone. But what happens when an unfortunate mortal wanders into his domain?)

TW: Descriptions of blood, violence and injury, angst

Dances and Daggers 🦋 [Ao3] || Cozy_The_Overlord (Loki x OC, The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor's betrothed, Teki's only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn't find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn't the only prince in Asgard…)

Avengers x Reader

Not a burden || @/specialagentlokitty (Autistic!Child!Reader, Would you be comfortable writing something where Bucky and Steve (or maybe the whole Avengers team if you like that better) adopt the autistic reader after finding out her mother emotionally abused her?)

Some Things Never Sleep 🦋 [FF.Net] || MotomamiBizcochito (Avengers x OC, Emma Rogers, AKA The Viper Assassin, has been under Hydra's thumb for nine long years until the Avengers rescue her from a Hydra base after receiving anonymous intel from the Winter Soldier. She's thrown into a world of freedom which she's never known but with the help of her grandfather, Captain America, she slowly becomes accustomed to her new life until Tony Stark brings up the Sokovia Accords. Emma is caught in the middle of a war as she becomes intent on protecting the man she calls her father and siding with her grandfather. Not to mention she crosses paths with a certain webslinging nuisance that knows just how to push her buttons like no other...what Emma would give for the days she spent knife fighting with her father in Siberia)

I know it's a Spiderman x OC but it's because of this story I discovered MCU and Emma has a lot of relations with Avengers. A LOT of TW, check them all please

[screamting]

Do you have any examples in mind for the Alfred as Bruce's handler idea? What would be the sort of thing that's weird? Because keeping him up-to-date on politics and taking care of his diet, or even talking him down from fear gas attacks doesn't seem that weird to me. Especially with how their lives are going. What specifically are you thinking of? This is such an interesting take, would love to hear more about this

"With how their lives are going" is sort of the point. A butler is a household manager, so like yes, there's some overlap with controlling and organizing lots of people-- but like, not their boss? In a smaller household butlers might do things like take on valet and housekeeping duties, which is probably what happened after the household downsized after Martha and Thomas died. That's also probably when he went from Mr Pennyworth to Alfred.

And people know it's a weird situation. Like. Okay. So the one potential relative the Waynes may have had (Jacob Kane) is too young to take Bruce in, or Martha and Thomas just fuckin hate their other living relatives and specifically write that if anything happens to us Bruce goes to Alfred, or Bruce goes to a relative for like 2 months and it Does Not Work and either Bruce or Alfred bribe a judge to make Alfred his guardian. Lots of options, all of them A Weird Situation Everybody Knows About.

I think partly because of trying to maintain normalcy in Bruce's life (and because of his own emotional issues) Alfred does hold onto the butler/valet thing maybe a little harder than might have been ideal, but if he dresses Bruce he's just lying clothes out for him on the bed or helping him get dressed up for important events. There's no point for Alfred to drive him around-- by all rights Alfred should have his own driver-- and they should have a cook and housemaid and maybe they have Dory like in the batman 2022, but it's still a weird thing to be, essentially, raised by the staff.

(I think maybe that's a separate point but I do think it should play more into the conception of Brucie as a person. He's not just comfortably empty headed and kind to 'the help' because he's stupid and never had parents to teach him how a rich man ought to behave. He's that way because he was raised by the help. Not even in the normal way where you pay/kidnap a nanny to raise your kids instead of her own. Just straight up the butler and the housekeeper and the family physician. [Bruce knows Leslie's a surgeon but his association is still like, 'ah, yes, my pediatrician who showed up to all my birthdays whether I wanted one or not.'])

The thing is that when this is happening as Bruce is a kid, it's weird, but like, it's normal too. They get a closer relationship than child and butler usually do. It's normal for a younger kid to not control his meals too much but once he's an older teen he makes requests for dinner and it happens. He starts growing independent and comes to Alfred less for advice, sometimes making him worry, but he's becoming an adult and soon he won't need Alfred at all!

...and then Bruce runs off with a few hundred thousand dollars in cash and vanishes for years without a word.

When he comes back he's got this absolutely deranged idea in his head about going out and violently making the city a place people are afraid to commit crimes. Sure petty theft and carjacking, but no: he's going to make mafiosos afraid. He's going to very specifically make them feel unsafe in their own homes. He's going to terrorize every crooked cop and politician until quitting and struggling for the rest of their lives sounds like a better option than continuing to take an extra 10k home a month.

....so anyway, Alfred unfortunately loves this kid too much to throw him into Arkham, and it seems like he'd be pretty hard to wrestle now after going through all that assassin training.

So early Alfred takes on what eventually sort of gets outsourced to Oracle, because even if he hasn't been around it since Martha and Thomas were alive he remembers more about upper crust society behavior and Bruce needs to nail it down. So it's not just "here's the summary of the daily newspaper master bruce" it's "this is Julia Danvers she's the only heiress to an oil field fortune and has an allergy to shellfish. She's sort of into environmentalism but isn't really thinking it through and any real complicated solutions that would cause damage to the business make her feel like the end of her family line, which of course ends with a woman and they're going to blame her for being a woman and ruining the business for everyone else. So when you talk to her, here is what I think you should do..."

Bruce doesn't pick his meals anymore because he barely eats so Alfred makes a protein shake with so many other added nutrients that you do have to ease yourself onto them unless you want to absolutely annihilate your gut and suffer in the bathroom for three days. Of course, Bruce never had to think about this, because Alfred did the easing on himself by varying the inputs over the course of a month gradually with the rest of his meals that were easy digestables.

Talking down from fear gas isn't something they plan for but it is something that like: Bruce is seeing a monster. It is telling him the terrible things it will do.

It is using Alfred's voice, so Bruce has to believe there's a good reason for it to do those things, and gives himself over to it.

It's not just that Alfred puts aside what he'd carefully raised and hoped for to ruthlessly try and keep alive what he has. It's that Bruce knows he's being handled, and allows it.

[the-empress-7]

“Anyone remember that story about how anal she was about how her clothes were packed for royal tours? Something about making sure every piece was separated by tissue paper. Poor Melissa Toubati, no wonder she quit just a few months in.”

I must have missed this story! But I think I know why Meghan did that. There’s a documentary series from the 2000s about a year in the life of Windsor Castle. There’s a whole section on the housekeeping department and how they take care of guests who stay overnight. One thing they do is unpack and repack for the guests, and when they repack, they pack each item individually in tissue paper. There’s a whole bit where the head housekeeper is timing two staff members who are practicing with random clothes to make sure they can do it in a specific window of time (there’s a whole scenario they’re rehearsing). I bet Meghan saw that documentary while researching Harry, and/or experienced it herself as a guest of The Queen. She then decided it was her due, ignoring that it takes two specially trained staff members and is intended to honor guests, make them feel their possessions were well taken care of

Stop it. She didn't steal this story too did she? I could have sworn my memory of it is specifically about M. I think Scobie wrote about it in Finding Freedom.

Does anyone else remember?

[beautifullache]

🦄The Sims 4🦄

👠Shoe Career👢

💕EARLY RELEASE 7.12.2024💕

Journeys

PTO 3 days off

Journeys is a teen retail leader with an emphasis on footwear and unique specialty items including apparel, backpacks, hats and accessories. With more than 800 stores in all 50 US states, Puerto Rico and Canada, Journeys offers the most popular brands that cater to the teen lifestyle such as Converse, Vans, Dr Martens, UGG, Adidas, Timberland, Birkenstock, Crocs and Hey Dude. Through strategic artistic partnerships, event sponsorships, exclusive content, creative collaborations with musicians, and a focus on giving back to the community through charitable events and volunteer programs— Journeys has become more than just a retailer, but a universal part of teen and youth culture. The in-store Journeys experience features an energetic environment, friendly, passionate staff, and an inclusive atmosphere where self-expression is not just accepted – but encouraged and embraced. Journeys is an attitude you can wear.

Sales Associate

Sales Lead

Assistant Store Manager

Store Manager

District Manager in Training

Allow Teen

Allow Young Adult

Allow Adult

Allow Elder

Hibbett Sports

PTO 3 days off

Hibbett, headquartered in Birmingham, Alabama, is a leading athletic-inspired fashion retailer with nearly 1,100 Hibbett and City Gear specialty stores, located in 35 states nationwide. Hibbett has a rich history of serving customers for more than 75 years with convenient locations, superior personalized customer service and access to coveted footwear, apparel and accessories from top brands like Nike, Jordan, and adidas. Consumers can browse styles, find new releases, shop looks and make purchases through our best-in-class omni-channel platform. Follow us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @hibbettsports and @citygear. At Hibbett I City Gear, we make it easy for you to have an edge up on the competition when it comes to your style. Whether it’s the brands we keep on our shelves or the people who work in our stores, we are here to help you reach your next level of play. You’ll get the latest products first and exclusive items that are harder to find. If you want to put your game in the right hands, you’ve come to the right place at Hibbett I City Gear. With names like Nike, Jordan, Adidas, The North Face, and Costa, we bring fashion and footwear together for you and your game. Whether you’re shopping for yourself or the whole team, at Hibbett I City Gear we have you covered from toe to head.

Sales Associate

Store Ops Projects Specialist

District Sales Manager

Manager in Training

Senior Internal Audit Analyst

Allow Teen

Allow Young Adult

Allow Adult

Allow Elder

Foot Locker

PTO 3 days off

Foot Locker, Inc. leads the celebration of sneaker and youth culture around the globe through a portfolio of brands including Foot Locker, Kids Foot Locker, Champs Sports, atmos, and WSS. With approximately 2,700 retail stores in 29 countries across North America, Europe, Asia, Australia and New Zealand, as well as websites and mobile apps, the Company's purpose is to inspire and empower youth culture around the world, by fueling a shared passion for self-expression and creating unrivaled experiences at the heart of the global sneaker community. Foot Locker, Inc. has its corporate headquarters in New York. At Foot Locker, Inc., our purpose is to inspire and empower youth culture through our family of brands by fueling a shared passion for self-expression and creating unrivaled experiences at the heart of the sport and sneaker communities.

Cashier

Sales Associate

Stock Associate

Warehouse Housekeeper

Sales Lead

Equipment Operator

Allow Teen

Allow Young Adult

Allow Adult

Allow Elder

Finish Line

PTO 3 days off

Finish Line is an American retail chain that sells athletic shoes and related apparel and accessories. The company operates 660 stores in 47 states, mostly in enclosed shopping malls, as well as Finish Line-branded athletic shoe departments in more than 450 Macy's stores.

Associate

Stock Associate

Store Management

In-Store Merchandiser

Allow Teen

Allow Young Adult

Allow Adult

Allow Elder

Champs Sports

PTO 3 days off

Champs Sports is one of the largest, athletic sports-specialty retailers in North America. We bring to the table an arsenal of the finest, freshest athletic apparel, footwear and accessories you’ll find anywhere. We believe that through our brands and our knowledgeable sales associates, we can claim the high ground as the authority on Game, and we’re here to help you up your own personal Game.

Cashier

Sales Associate

Sales Lead/Key Holder

Assistant Manager

Allow Teen

Allow Young Adult

Allow Adult

Allow Elder

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[servants-hall]

[...]

The new season will see Mrs Hall taking on the role of being a blackout warden in the village – but it's a responsibility that Siegfried doesn't take too well to.

Chatting about that dynamic to Channel 5 ahead of the release of the new season, when asked how Siegfried's reacts to Mrs Hall's new job, West said: "Extremely badly. Selfishly and overstepping the mark, and in ways that an analyst would have a lot of fun dissecting, he doesn’t really understand why the village warden, Mr Bosworth, makes him so angry."

He continued: "I think Siegfried is caught up with ideas of protecting Mrs Hall and being angered by Bosworth’s jobsworthing. And he oversteps the mark in trying to protect somebody he would see as staff but also as a friend.

"And he’s slow to realise that, but then when he does – because of the sad loss of a dear animal companion and some detective work to find out how – all is right in the end, or nearly."

West added: "But Siegfried does feel slightly out of it, strangely at a loss when James is away, because the brother that I am related to isn’t there, and the son that I never had but do love enormously isn’t there either.

"And my friend and companion and housekeeper is away doing important stuff that I’m not being asked to do. And he slightly feels like a spare part at a wedding."

Revealing more about how Mrs Hall finds out about becoming a blackout warden, Madeley said: "Yes, in seeking something to do that she can contribute to the war effort beyond knitting, she goes to the community meeting and hears that they need wardens.

"This is basically the job of going around, making sure everyone's safe at night, and ensuring the blackout is being enforced. Because she knows the community well, she thinks that would be a good job for her."

And there's set to be a brand new character in the mix as well, as Mrs Hall meets Mr Bosworth.

Madeley revealed: "We meet a brilliant character called Mr Bosworth, played by Jeremy Swift, who’s an interesting fish - quite pedantic but also a lot of fun.

"He trains her up to be an ARP warden (Air Raid Protection), and they develop a really fun relationship. Bosworth is a very funny character, and it’s an unlikely friendship that evolves through that work. It’s a fun storyline for me."

[salubriwrites-blog]

LycaWise Angst story I'll never publish

I'm part of a LycaWise discord where we all circle jerk and share things we cooked.

After reading someone's little angsty one shot they wrote I was inspired. I'll probably never turn this into a full length story especially cause it was piggy backing off someone else, shout out Dartrickx and would only turn this isn't a full scale story with their permission and collaboration.

So I wanted to post what I had cooked in this feral brainstorm frenzy! (I'm literally copy pasting this from Discord, so it'll be disjointed, feral, and I'm NOT sorry).

The story kicked off pretty cute - Lycaon and Wise go on a date where Lycoan proposes. Their romantic evening ends with Lycaon fighting off Ethereals, only to realize that he was somehow drugged during his evening with Wise. The Ethereals he fought did not exist, and the large one he fought was actually Wise. Who now lays dead, at the hands of Lycaon. Hugo Vlad - disguised as their waiter for the evening - had managed to drug Lycaon and has effectively framed the thiren for the death of the Proxy.

Here is my addition to what I think would transpire afterward: When PubSec arrives, all they see is a maddened thiren out of control of himself. Lycaon's defense is paper thin, the blood is on his hands, no one believed that he had been drugged and so there's no proof of Hugo's actions. The best thing they can do for him to avoid a more severe sentence is to plead insanity. He is a Hollow Raider after all, all that Ether corruption had to have an impact on him some how... so they plead insanity to save Lycaon.

So Lycaon pleads insanity, gets sent to a psychiatric prison. Hugo infiltrates it and masquerades as doctors, guards, whatever he needs to be around Lycaon. This causes the staff to panic because he's trying to attack the staff, not a good look for him. As a result the prison isolates him further, muzzles him up, puts him in a high risk ward. Basically only has like, two or three people that he sees at any given time of day (a therapist, a guard, a doctor, that kind of thing). Through a series of manipulations (social and medical), Lycaon starts to lose touch with reality. He becomes convinced that he is beyond redemption. Everyone has forgotten about him; Wise is dead, Belle will never forgive him, VHS had to distance themselves to save face. Hugo is all that remains. This does not happen within months either, mind you. We're talking like, years of Hugo doing this. Until everyone that Lycaon knew stops calling him, stops visiting, stops writing letters. He feels completely forgotten about and the only connection he has to his past is Hugo. Let's say about ~5 years go by. VHS has moved on, Ellen is maybe looking at a change in lifestyle. She works at a catgirl/maid cafe full time now, and gets a visit from a PubSec officer. One of them introduces herself as Zhu Yuan, investigator for NEPS. "Are you Ellen Joe?" They ask. She's suspicious, but confirms her identity. "When was the last time you were in touch with Von Lycaon?" They ask. Panic "Maybe three years ago. Why?" "He's part of an ongoing investigation." "I just said I haven't seen him in years, last I saw him he was in prison for murder. You should know where he is." silence "You… do know where he is, right?"

Ellen finds out that Lycaon escaped his isolation cell and they think he took one of the prison's staff hostage. Now Ellen may not think that he's totally mentally stable, but this is still Von Lycoan, Head Butler of Victoria Housekeeping Services and Hollow Raider we're talking about. He knows how to evade detection, hack any level of security clearance, and skilled in different forms of combat. If Lycaon doesn't want to be found, he absolutely can disappear. So she teams up with PubSec to find Lycaon, putting all of the training he inparted onto her to track him down. Doing her own freelance investigation, Ellen learns the truth about what happened. How Hugo had been there, following Lycaon and Wise, orchestrating the perfect crime with Lycoan at the center of it. She figures out that Hugo has been in that prison the whole time, and that this psycho has been torturing Lycaon all this time. Basically uncovers a whole gross discrepancy in the prison's system. "We'll make this right, but we have to find him before Hugo influences him to do something else" Zhu Yuan promises Ellen as they are closing in on Lycaon's location. Eventually, they find Lycoan and Hugo. They're back in the attic playing house or some weird shit like that. Ellen insists that she be the one to go up first and will call if things go side ways, because the presence of cops might agitate Lycaon. "Remember," Zhu Yuan says to Ellen before she disappears inside. "So long as he doesn't hurt anyone else, we can get his sentence commuted or even cleared. That includes you." "I'll talk some sense into him," Ellen promises. Except- "Boss?" She calls, relying on her senses to penetrate the dark room. Though it was day time, the sun hanging directly over head cast the room in unmoving shadows. Lycaon attacks Ellen, she jams the handle of her pole arm between his teeth to stop him from biting her. He doesn't recognize her anymore, she barely recognizes him. He's gray, gaunt, and wild now. A trace of the regal thiren she knew, he's become something of Hugo's creation. As Hugo is standing over Ellen, giving a monologue about how he's won (because he has to) while Lycaon slobbers and snaps at her face as she holds him off with her pole arm, she manages to reach into her shirt and pull out a necklace, and hanging from the chain is the wedding band. Wise's wedding band.

Lycaon sees it and he freezes up as she says something not very dramatic but to the extent of "You forgot about me, that's fine. I deserve that because I forgot about you first. But you would never forget him." Because it's true, Lycaon could never forget Wise. Even when everyone else forgot about Lycaon, and his love for them turned to bitter resentment turned to nothingness. As Lycaon is having this mental collapse, she beats Lycaon over the head and he blacks out. Now that his weapon is out of commission and no longer a danger, Hugo starts to beg for clemency. Then threatening her. But Ellen Joe is a badass, and she calls in PubSec to take care of him and get Lycaon the help she needs. After that day she promises to never leave his side again. She failed him once already.

Hugo goes away for a long time for the grocery list of crimes hes committed. (Tampering with a crime, 1st degree murder, impersonating law enforcement, aiding and abetting a prisoner's escape, unlawful imprisonment). It takes Lycaon a long time to come back from all of that. Ellen and Corin stick around to help him, Lycoan may never get his job back as an attendant for VHS, but maybe Lily's family rehire him full time. It all comes to a head when Belle forgives Lycaon. So they start penpalling, then phone calling, and finally one day they decide to meet somewhere in person - we're talking years later. When Belle arrives she's older now, and she's not alone. There's a young boy with her that looks sort of like her, and at the sight of Lycoan gets really shy, but she insists that Lycaon is a friend of the family. He knows that this is her son, and recognizes how important it is to her that she introduce an important man in her life back to Lycaon. The trust that they've rebuilt is fragile and all hinges on if this child approves of him or not. "This is my son, baby do you wanna tell him your name?" She asks. "My name is Wise..." He is hesitant to say it, maybe he thinks its stupid, or other kids bully him for it. He doesn't know its significance. Choking back tears, Belle watches as Lycaon gets down on a knee and takes kid Wise's hand and gives him a formal little handshake. He can tell that he's immediately imprinted onto her son, who will now have a bodyguard and best friend for life. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, young master. Your mother and uncle are very dear to me, should you ever need my assistance, I will be at your side at a moment's notice." Kid Wise stares up at him with these big eyes and goes, "Cool… can I touch your tail?"

[unfortunately-obsessed]

I like the idea of Dorothy existing because Alfred needs a friend y'know?

Keep thinking Alfred is oh so lonely. Not alone, no, he has his family and he loves them. But familial love Is different from having actual friends

And he is the compartmentalizing king, professionalism vs family that keeps holding him back like he doesn't belong as a (fundamental) part of the family – which really do explain why Bruce acts the way he does, sometimes

Anyway– Dorothy! Yeah that character, "Dory", in The Batman (2022) that movie-fandom seemed to haven fallen in love with

Because the manor is so big! There's gardens and west and east wings, it's hectares of land someone has to keep tidy, and though I love Bruce and his kids, they clearly don't help past washing dishes and making their own bed, maybe MAYBE doing their own personal laundry

Even the Wayne Tower is too much for a single man take care of, old money in its bones and sooooo much dust and silverware to keep track of

I know Alfred is called butler but he also acts as a valet for Bruce. I would love to have Dorothy as a governess and head housekeeper.

Headcanon he was a valet for Thomas and when he started she was already there. You think Alfred doesn't age? Dorothy hasn't changed a single hair strand since Alfred was fresh from the war and didn't know how to fry an egg

So it starts as nothing but stubbornly professionalism from Alfred's part, then some small favors that leads to book recommendations and it culminates into Leslie and Dorothy coercing him into a book club

And Dorothy probably is the one that hushes the staff out of the family sight, though much to her disprovall, Bruce keeps trying to show gratitude to them after his tour across the world and training years

Dorothy learning he is Batman right at the year one because she found Bruce bleeding and concussed in the back of his mother's late 98' silver corvette? Yeah

She's the hair-thin line that prevents the housemaids and gardeners getting why there's so much security around the manor