#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.

[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."

[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...

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@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

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four

TW: sexual harassment, no means yes, asshole doctors/doctor slander (sorry if you’re an actual good doctor), mentions of alcoholism/sickness, burns

You should probably decide to do whatever the opposite of man up is-pussy down?-and specifically request to not have Officer Ludlow ever be on your patient roster again. He’s bad for your health and, despite being the one always putting him back together, you’re bad for his, too. 

You’re trying not to morally question yourself about why you didn’t do something after the first, second, or hell, even third time he borderline sexually harassed you…  You’re trying not to think too much about why you don’t do it now: open the manager’s door with your shaking, clammy hand and say “hey, creepy patient, please keep him away from me”. It would be so easy. This stuff happens a lot to the other staff in the ED, and always gets solved without a problem. 

You don’t do it, though. You walk away without blacklisting Tom Ludlow. And doesn’t that just say mountains about you. But, anyway, you have your own job to do fighting disease and trauma from the mean streets of the City of Angels, so you don’t really have time for all this petty drama bullshit. 

Whatever helps you sleep at night.

You’re not really sure how it’s possible, after eight years of higher education plus residency training, but doctors really can be idiots sometimes. 

“Discharge, really?” You whisper to yourself, clicking on the order to see if it’s just a mistake-nope, legit. 

You grab the clipboard from your patient’s bedside and go hunt down Dr. Mercer, who is currently standing at the desk flipping through paperwork. 

“Hey, Julian, can I have a quick second?”

He gives you one of his signature, charming white smiles that can calm almost any belligerent patient down. “Of course. Anything for my favorite nurse.” He motions for you to sit in the swivel chair, and takes the one opposite from you. 

Julian makes it a point to give you his full attention, and that never fails to fluster you, but you can shoulder through it most of the time. The man is too handsome for his own good, and you haven’t found a female in this hospital immune to his charm-even Shelby, the housekeeper who is strictly attracted to women… and one man: Dr. Mercer. 

“You put in a discharge order for room 13?” 

“Hmm, one sec.” He leans over to click through the computer, then turns back. “Yes, is there a problem?”

“Well, I thought we would be admitting him?” 

“No, that won’t be necessary. He’s free to go home.” 

“Julian.” You’ve known this man for a whole year and should not be this hesitant about questioning a single order from him, but you take a big pause nonetheless. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem; any other doctor you could confront with ease, but Julian is so, so nice and he always gets your Starbucks order right and never lets you pay him back for it. You don’t want to be a dick to such a sweet person. “I don’t think he’s ready to be discharged. He’s a heavy drinker and his potassium is still low. Plus, he lives alone.” 

“His potassium is only one point off, y/n. And the rest of his labs look good. I can’t keep someone for alcoholism.”

Well, the good thing is that you’re not hesitant anymore, just really pissed, because obviously Dr. Mercer’s kindness and understanding doesn’t extend to his less fortunate patients. 

“Wow, that’s not okay, Julian.”

His smile fades a little bit, or just turns mean, you can’t really tell which, and he sighs. “I’m sorry, I’m very busy. If this conversation is about morals, I’m afraid I don’t have time for it.” 

“It’s not about morals.” You try to lasso your anger, but it seeps into the tone of your voice like a hiss. “I’m concerned about patient safety, and his potassium is just going to drop further if we send him back to drink himself to death. And then he’ll have a heart attack.” 

“I treat current conditions. I can’t focus on what-ifs.” He tries to put his hand atop yours, but you pull back. 

All doctors are the same? What a shocker. You haven’t met even one who didn’t eventually do this shit, and Julian is no different despite your burgeoning hope that he was. 

“I’m not giving him that paperwork,” you say. “I’m not discharging him.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m not doing it.”

“We need to free up the bed for patients who need it.” 

“Do it yourself, then.” 

His smile falls the whole way down, and you can’t find it in your bleeding heart to care.

You need to get away from him before you say something that will make him want to get you your usual coffee order and then spit in it, but he grabs your forearm gently before you can. 

“Y/n-“

“I told you I’m not discharging him.” He lets you pull back. “And I really don’t have time for this.” 

***

You should just let it go, but by the time your break comes around, you are still quietly seething over Dr. Mercer’s idiotic order, and the way he fucking talked to you. 

You’ve come a long way, but sometimes when a man talks down to you with that certain tone, you still see red. 

Maybe it’s a character flaw, but after the hell you’ve lived through, you can’t help but feel entitled to some righteous feminine rage.

You’re alone in the little side nook with its hard plastic chairs that almost hurt you more than standing. But your feet need a break, so while you massage your foot your tailbone suffers.

You need a massage. A real, full-body rub-down–why is it, that the thought calls up the memory of a certain large, strong, calloused pair of hands that may or may not belong to a certain inappropriate officer of the law?

It’s possible you are staring into space, fantasizing about burning dark eyes unabashedly boring into yours as those mitts for hands–

A soft knock on the doorjamb pulls you back to the present–and the last person you want to see is taking up the whole doorway. It takes every iota of self-control you have left not to snarl, What do you want?

“Doctor?” You even put extra sugar into your tone, which he seems to sense is utterly manufactured judging by his awkward smile.

“Y/n.”

You wait silently, allowing the lift of one eyebrow that you fear conveys all your disdain. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

You blink, certain you misheard. 

“I’m sorry?”

“You were right. The patient was not ready for discharge.”

You blink again. Has hell warmed over? “I know,” you finally answer, which for some reason makes him smile. He takes the liberty to cross the room to sit down next to you, with only one plastic chair between you. 

“It took some courage to stand up to me. Well done.”

Dr. Julian Mercer is TV doctor hot–tall, broad shouldered, handsome. His thin scrubs do very little to conceal his lithe, athletic body underneath, and everyone in the hospital loves to titter about him as he breezes by. You’re not exactly immune to his charms, but failing to advocate for a patient for fear of displeasing him wouldn’t have even occurred to you.

“I just want what's best for my patients.” That, at least, is the truth. 

The good doctor nods, his longish hair swinging into his eyes. Maybe you do feel the slightest urge to brush it away. 

“Truly commendable, y/n.” Then he points at your foot, and makes a come hither gesture with his fingers.

You don't understand what he wants, and your face shows it. 

“Is your foot hurting you?”

Perpetually, is the answer, but you just nod dumbly.

“Give it here.”

“Why?”

His smile is gentle as spring rain. “I’m offering you an apology foot rub.”

“How wildly inappropriate,” you comment while extending your foot. You’ve eyed Dr. Julian’s hands before. They may be soft, but they are big, so maybe he could be of some use to you. 

He laughs at that; a short huff of laughter that possibly softens you a little towards him. And once your foot is in his hands–ok, that feels good, maybe better than good, and maybe Dr. Julian does know something about making the human body feel better. A small noise escapes you, and you are breaking so many hospital policies right now, but god dammit they work you to the bone here.

He’s even kind enough to do your other foot too, and by the time he’s done with you you’re leaning back in your chair on your hand with your eyes closed. You open one eye with a sigh as he gives the ball of your foot a finishing squeeze.

“Ok. I’m mostly not mad anymore.”

He gives a short guffaw at that. “You were mad?” Like he’s surprised you’ve taken any of this personally.

“Of course I was.”

“Oh.”

Strangely he doesn’t seem offended by this. “You really do care about your patients.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I'm not surprised. but…”

“But what?”

“It's hard on us as medical professionals, to take every case personally. We do our best, of course, but at the end of the day you have to keep some sliver of your heart back for yourself, or you won’t survive to help anyone tomorrow.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. It never would have even occurred to you not to give your heart and soul to anyone who needed it during your shift. 

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

You can’t help but notice he still hasn't released your foot, toying with the curve of your big toe through your sock. 

“Perhaps we will.”

He is looking at you searchingly, and it’s all you can do not to flinch from that intuitive gaze.

“Thank you, Dr. Mercer.” 

He opens his mouth as though to say more, but one of your colleagues walks in, and that’s the end of your little moment.

***

Surprise, surprise, when the next night, Guess Who finds his way onto your examination table.

For fuck’s sake.

“Officer Ludlow. What brings you in tonight?”

You know you sound tired, look like hell, and smell like straight up human waste, but Tom looks extra happy to see you. “You work too much.”

You don’t have the energy to argue, much less with the truth. “Yeah, and you get injured too much.” Great, solid comeback, you really got him there. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

He whistles. “Bad mood. Damn.” 

“Just tell me what you’re fucking here for, Tom.” You plop down on the stool next to his bed, chin in your hand. 

He tugs his charred pant leg up, and beneath, so fresh it should be sizzling and smoking, is a nasty burn the size of your head. 

“How did you manage that?” You wince, leaning down to assess the damage. Luckily, it’s only second degree, shiny and bloody and wet and looking too painful to bear weight on. “How are you walking?” 

“Remember the sword?” 

“How could I forget?”

“Okay, well this time it was a flamethrower.”

“How are people getting their hands on this shit?” 

He shrugs, which makes you laugh for the first time all day. “Alright, I don’t think it’s third degree, but I need the doctor to-“

“Good evening Mr. Ludlow.” Julian has drawn back the curtain and stepped inside your little exam room with that branded, signature smile on his face.

“Hey, Julian-Doctor-can you take a look at this?”

While Julian looks at the burn, you sneak a peek at Tom, and see some type of look on his face-not confusion, not concern, more analyzing. Assessing. Thinking. 

“This your doctor boyfriend you were telling me about?”

You can almost hear the sizzle of heat making its way up your neck to your cheeks. This fucking bastard. Embarassing you at work, trying to catch you out in your lie. He levels that penetrating gaze with you, just the tiniest tick at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement.

Yet he is not the only perceptive man in the room. Julian looks between the two of you, and you swear he reads the situation as clearly as a book. Without losing a beat, god bless, he goes into Full Authoritative Doctor Mode. “I am, not that my relationship with Miss y/n is any of your concern.”

Either of them could have pushed you over with a feather–you can hardly believe Julian is playing along.

“Sorry, doc. I’m a detective. Just curious by nature.” Ludlow levels Julian with a stony look, conveying that he didn’t believe the doctor–or he really didn’t like what he’d said.

“I’m sure you are,” answers Julian, throwing you a knowing look that only makes the fire under your collar ten times worse. “Can you go check on Mrs. Andersen in room 10, y/n? I can handle Officer Ludlow.”

Somehow, you kind of doubt that, and you find you’re reluctant to leave them alone in the room together. But, you’ve already been insubordinate once this week. They’re grown men. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Yet as you’re making your exit, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just left Dr. Mercer at the mercy of a wolf. 

You are glad you went to check on Mrs. Andersen, because she needed some warm assurance, on top of a slight adjustment of her IV. When you walk back out into the hall, headed for the nurses station, it’s almost as though the atmosphere has changed. No one else seems to sense it, but somehow you just know something is off. With dread in your heart you scurry back to where you’d left Ludlow and Mercer, bursting through the curtains.

They are standing toe to toe, nose to nose. It’s made a little more ridiculous by the bulky dressing on Tom’s calf, but you still don’t doubt his ability to wipe the floor with Dr. Julian. Which is a ridiculous fucking thing for you to have to worry about, but here you are.

You don’t raise your voice, not wanting to draw attention, but you do not hesitate to put yourself between them. You try not to notice how solid Tom’s chest is beneath your hand, compared to Julian’s. “That is enough.” You direct this at Tom, of course, because you have zero doubt as to who started it.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Tom complains childishly.

“Because I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not stupid. But this asshole seems to think he owns you.”

You do lift an eyebrow at that, but it’s so not the issue at hand. “Do you want to be escorted out by security?”

“I think I’m done here anyway.” Ludlow picks up his jacket, glaring at Julian. “Thanks for the dressing, Doc.” His tone, however, more conveys Eat shit and die. Then he looks at you, and those burning dark eyes send an uneasy thrill to your toes–by way of your treacherous pussy, who does not seem to understand that men like Tom Ludlow are very bad for you. She has gotten you into so much trouble before, and by god you are not letting her run the show this time.

“Be seeing you, sweetheart.”

“Not on these hospital grounds, you’re not,” asserts Dr. Julian, and Tom, damn him, just laughs.

There is just something about that man’s presence that leaves behind traces of him in a room, long after he has gone. You just stand there, maybe rather stupidly, struggling to process what just happened. What is it about you, that attracts these cocky assholes that just can’t take no for an answer?

“Are you alright?” asks Julian, and you actually believe that he cares about you, concern written in his achingly handsome features, his kind hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry about him.”

He gives you a gently amused look. “You are not responsible for that man’s bad behavior.

And you won’t be treating him anymore.” 

You would argue, assert yourself, do that thing where you’re strong and independent and take care of the own sore skin on your back, but you really don’t have the energy right now, and Julian-fuck him-he’s right, you should not be Ludlow’s nurse anymore for his sake and yours. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, wishing it was the end of your shift. “Alright.” 

At least the rest of the night goes by fairly quickly, although that means you’re busy enough not to have another break, however, Julian-apologetic Julian, who brings you a turkey sandwich and makes you sit down and eat it and drink at least half a bottle of water-is making things a little better. 

The doctors don’t really get into the shit like you and your fellow nurses, although they are just as busy, and the fact that he takes time to be concerned about you after the emotional beginning of your shift really touches you. He knows he fucked up the other day, and he’s in full sweet cinnamon roll mode to try and rectify it. That’s why you can’t-and, if you’re being honest-don’t want to tell him no when he catches you in the parking lot before you get into your car. 

“Here, you left your stethoscope.” He loops it around your neck, then opens your driver’s door for you. 

“Julian, it really is okay.” You reach up to pat his lab coat shoulder in reassurance. “And I’m fine. Tom is just a big bully.” Why do you feel like you’re betraying him by talking shit to Julian in the parking lot? 

He looks down at you like he’s made up his mind about something, and grins. “Have coffee with me?”

You blink at him. “Like, right now?” 

“No, Saturday morning. Seven AM?” He grabs the spiral notebook and pen from his breast pocket and writes you his number. “Since I’m your boyfriend, I should take you out on a date, don’t you think?” 

Well, at least he’s asking nicely instead of being an asshole about it like some people… 

You chuckle, tuck the note and your hands into your scrub pockets, and hope the heat isn’t visible on your face. “Guess you’re right.” 

You might be playing a dangerous game, here, but hell, there’s a reason you work in the ED of a level one trauma center; you’re a sucker for cheap thrills

[bitterrobin]

Either I make multiple housekeeper ocs for my au or at least half of Wayne Manor is kept boarded up indefinitely. Sorry to burst people's bubbles but there is no conceivable way Alfred by himself is cleaning the entire mansion.

I've grown up helping my mother (who otherwise works alone w chronic back pain) clean middle to upper class homes here in SoCal. In very white oriented areas with housewives and large families with dogs and good financial situations. Now, there's a huge difference between large modern homes that have only two maybe three floors and the entire floor plan of a mansion that's at minimum built in the 1800s and has 30 rooms. But fundamentally the problems with upkeep are the same. You need to sweep all the floors, mop, wipe the baseboards, vacuum every carpet. You need to wipe clean windows, fans, HC units, lightbulbs, staircases, every surface used constantly - kitchen countertops, bathroom counters, showers/bathtubs/toilets. You need to do laundry, not only clothes, but towels and bedding used by the owners and the rags you use to clean. Fold that laundry. Make the beds. Take out every full trashbag and haul it out of the house. Wash dishes daily. Put those dishes away. Occasionally remind the owner that maybe a light needs fixing, there's a hole in their daughter's sweater, the dog peed inside, that their son tends to stuff trash under the couch cushions and now they have an ant infestation.

On average, with my help, it takes my mom 4-5 hours for one two-floor house. Takes longer by herself. That's not even getting into the amount of people and pets. If there's kids, you need to clean after their spaces more than the adults. With babies, there's diapers and toys all over. With dogs or cats there's always always fur to pick up. The bigger the family, the busier they are, the messier the house. And thats all for a housekeeper that visits every week and gets paid in numbers ranging from 6$0 to $100. (And often people will forget to pay you and you have to stretch out your budget for weeks and weeks and then they pay you and they forget again next month).

For Alfred, as an official butler and employee, he lives at the manor. There's no cost for him that comes from travel (no car to pay for fuel) or cleaning supplies (Bruce probably pays for them). But everything else? Not to mention the added chaos factor of BEING VIGILANTES. Alfred not only upkeep the house they live in, but prepares food, clothing, scheduling, and cleans the Batcave and feeds the bats, at least two large dogs, and one cat. Theres multiple cars and vehicles, guns, weaponry, technology to watch out for (and I know the average fanon enjoyer doesn't know Harold Allnut should be doing that). He picks Bruce's clothes and dresses him for godssake. Hell, Alfred even operates the Batcomputer when needed every night. He does their medical care (and people forget about Leslie yet again, even regarding her relationship w Bruce, still. still.) That's too much for one old man.

Realistically, either Bruce has a full house staff like nobles used to have, or Alfred simply does not do as much as people think. He's old. Forever aging. There's not going to be 20+ plus rooms ready all the time for people to sleep in. At best, the residents of the Manor are Bruce, Tim, and Damian. At best, their bedrooms are kept clean daily. All the other bedrooms are cleaned maybe monthly. The rooms that aren't bedrooms (foyers/attics etc) maybe every other month. Groceries are multiple day events. Same with cooking full meals, dietary plans. Galas and business functions require weeks and months. The pets take days for veterinary care and training. The kids all together take weeks, days individually and together. And they not only look at you as a butler but as family. You are responsible for their wellbeing, emotions whether you like it or not (bc Alfred frankly enables Bruce too much but thats for another day).

Only saving grace he has is that recently not many people live there anymore. Stephanie and Helena and Kate and Barbara shouldn't be living there in the first place. Dick and Jason have their own places. Tim and Cassandra are up in the air but I don't think they spend 100% of their time in the Manor because they're young adults with various circumstances.

[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?

[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.

[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

[cantfindadecentalias]

Hypnotel part 3 by CFADA

Vincent adjusted his tie as he reviewed the profile of Mia, the newest addition to the Hypnotel staff. Young, eager, and slightly nervous, Mia had joined hoping for some extra income over the holidays. She had no idea her role would be far more unique than a typical housekeeping job.

“Welcome to the Hypnotel, Mia,” Vincent greeted her warmly as she stood in his office. The space was cozy and elegantly festive, with a faint cinnamon scent in the air.

“Thank you, Mr. Noctis” Mia replied, her voice tinged with anticipation.

“Take a seat,” Vincent gestured toward the plush chair in front of his desk. “And please, call me Vincent. Here at the Hypnotel, we take pride in providing unforgettable experiences for our guests. Part of your role will involve spreading a little holiday cheer. Is that something you can do?”

Mia smiled nervously. “I’ll do my best.”

Vincent opened a small box on his desk, revealing a delicate crystal snowflake on a delicate silver chain. “This is one of our seasonal decorations. Isn’t it beautiful? It’s just so perfect. Watch how it catches the light.”

He held the snowflake aloft, letting it swing gently. Mia’s eyes followed the ornament as it glinted in the soft light, its gentle sway was so pretty, it was almost hypnotic.

“Just relax, Mia, I can tell that you are nervous about your new job, but you don’t have to be. We are like family here…” Vincent’s voice was calm and soothing. “Now, I wanted to show you this perfectly delicate snowflake. Focus on it now. Let everything else fade away. It’s just you, me, and the sparkle of the crystal. See how its drawing you in now? Let it calm your thoughts, ease your mind...”

Mia’s breathing slowed, her shoulders relaxing a little as the tension drained from her. Her eyes slowly closed.

“That’s right…” Vincent continued. “As you focus on the crystal, you’ll feel a sense of peace wash over you. You are calm, content….and completely open to my suggestions. You want to do well, so you will try your hardest to take everything in. You are committed to doing a good job. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes,” Mia murmured, her voice distant and serene.

“Good. Now, listen carefully. You’re going to be a vital part of our Christmas Special Package. Here is your uniform…” Vincent leaned over and lay a soft pile of clothes on her lap “When you wear this red velvet dress, trimmed with white fur, you’ll feel so festive, so confident, and so incredibly eager to please. You will get an overwhelming sense of submissiveness towards our guests, because you want to do a good job. You want to please them. When I command it, you’ll carry a luxurious steaming hot chocolate covered with whipped cream and marshmallows to our guest’s room. When your inside their room you’ll ensure their experience is magical and satisfying in every way that they say. Nothing else is more important to you than pleasing our guests. In any way. Understand?”

Mia nodded slowly, her lips curving into a soft smile.

“You’ll enjoy bringing joy to others, but when your shift ends, you’ll forget everything about your service. You’ll only remember that you worked hard, and you’ll feel a sense of joy and pride. Do you understand, Mia?”

“Yes, Mr. Vincent,” she replied dreamily.

“Excellent. When I count to three, you’ll wake up refreshed and excited to begin your training. One... two... three.”

Mia blinked a few times, sitting up straight with a bright smile. “Thank you, Mr. Vincent. I’m ready to get started!”

Vincent handed her the elegant red velvet dress. “Let’s bring some holiday cheer to our guests, shall we?”

Later That Evening

Mia knocked softly on the door of Room 312, holding a tray with a single mug of steaming hot chocolate and a small plate of treats. She wore the luxurious red velvet dress, the white fur trim accentuating its snug fit. Her hair was styled elegantly, and her cheeks were flushed with warmth and holiday cheer.

The door opened to reveal a man in his forties wearing only the hotel bathrobe, who raised an eyebrow in pleasant surprise.

“Good evening,” Mia greeted, her voice smooth and inviting. “I’m here with your Christmas Special.”

The man stepped aside to let her in, his curiosity piqued as she set the tray on the bedside table. She offered him the mug with a curtsey and a smile, her fingertips brushing his hand briefly, sending a spark of warmth between them.

“Enjoy your hot chocolate sir,” she said, her voice soft and melodious. He raised his eyebrows knowingly as he sipped at the creamy topping, she smiled in reply and knelt gracefully in front of him. Her demeanor shifted to something more intimate and attentive, her big brown eyes looking up at him.

The room filled with quiet murmurs and soft sighs as Mia expertly ensured his satisfaction, her touch light and practiced. She moved with confidence, the festive dress hugging her form perfectly as she spread holiday cheer in the most personal way, her hands exploring underneath the black robe...

After the Session

Hours later, Mia returned to the staff room with a large smile, but oddly vacant eyes. She removed her red velvet dress carefully and folded it up and placed it into her locker. She felt a warm, unshakable pride bubbling inside her, though she couldn’t quite remember why. She blinked a few times, noticed that she was in a state of undress and hastily began to get dressed in her normal clothes. She picked up her belonging, smiled at the sense of a job well done, although she struggled to remember everything that had happened, and she left for home.

Vincent watched her as she passed from his place at the concierge desk, a knowing smile on his face. “Good night, Mia,” he called out.

“Good night, Vincent,” she replied cheerfully, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion, but also contentment.

As she disappeared out the door, Vincent leaned on the desk and swiped through his tablet, satisfied. The Christmas Special had been a resounding success judging by the review from 312. The guests’ “holiday spirits” had been thoroughly lifted and Vincent felt pleased with himself.

He made a note to himself to begin planning for a New Year’s Eve package. There was always room for more special services he mused….

[andydrysdalerogers]

Yours Submissively ~ Control

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos. And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N I can't decide which banner I like more. Let me know what you think

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Prologue

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Five years earlier… 

Steve Rogers was tired.  

Tired of the fight.  

Tired of the demand.  

Tired of the politics behind his shield.  

Just tired.  

Retiring was the right move.  

But what does he do now?  

“Hey Tony, can I talk to you?” 

Present day… 

Getting the loan from Tony was the best idea he could have had. Grant Industries was thriving five years later.  Steve had built the business from the ground up.  Sure it helped that he used to be Captain America but when his first successful takeover happened, people really started to take notice.  

Making Sam his number two was the second best decision.  He was savvy with the business and made sure that Steve kept on track. When Sam married Natasha, she joined the company as well.  She was now his lawyer.  

Bucky elected to be Steve’s head of security.  Sure, he was a super soldier but as a businessman, the threats were more than before.  Bucky felt better knowing he was close to Steve but at the same time doing something good.  He wanted nothing but the best for his best friend.   

Yes, things were working out for Steve in his business.  At home, he had a beautiful penthouse.  Bucky lived with him and his housekeeper in the staff quarters and he had the place mostly to himself.  Except on the weekends.  

On the weekends, he did have a guest who would entertain him.  Because deep down, Steve missed having control.  He had control when he led the Avengers.  And it sated that part of him for the most part.  But now, he needed it more.  

Sharon had introduced this life to him while he was still avenging. Learning how to control and be controlled. Submitting and being submitted to kept Steve calm.  Control was all he wanted.  

Submissives weren’t hard to find in New York.  But he hadn’t had one since Lizzy left.  So boredom was starting to seep in.  Boredom could be dangerous, expensive even.  The last time he was bored, he bought out a publishing house.  Granted it was making a profit now but Steve has learned, don’t be bored for too long.  

“Devon, can we go through my schedule?” Steve called through the intercom to his assistant.  

“Right away sir.” Devon walked in holding her tablet with Steve’s schedule.  She has been his assistant since the beginning and ran his office like a fine Swiss watch.  He appreciated her hard work and attention to detail.  

“What’s on the agenda?” 

“You have a meeting with Mr. Wilson and Mrs. Romanoff-Wilson in 20 minutes to discuss a new acquisition.  You have a training session with Mr. Barnes right before lunch here in your private office gym. You have a meeting with Mr. Miller on the development of a tech piece he wanted to present.  A Delilah Stevens is stopping by with a need for signatures regarding the new deal with Stark Industries.  After, Mr. Barnes will take you home to prepare for the gala event this evening.”  

“What gala?” 

“It’s the fundraiser for the recovery efforts in Sokovia.  You told Miss Maximoff you would attend.”  

“Damn.  Alright.  I guess I have no choice in that one.”  Steve sighed.   “Am I seated alone?” 

“No, Miss Maximoff and Mr. Stark are sending someone to be the liaison for you.  Mr. Wilson and Mrs Romanoff-Wilson are also attending.”  

Steve rolled his eyes.  “Alright.  Have the intern bring me a coffee and let me know when Sam and Natasha get here.”  

Devon left the office and sent her intern, Cindy in with the coffee.  Steve rolled his eyes again at the little girl in front of him.  She was a vapid girl, but she was Senator Ward’s daughter, and he needed the Senator in his pocket.  She left after batting her eyes at him.  As he read his daily reports, Devon called when Sam and Natasha were on his floor.  

Married was a good look on Sam Wilson.  He walked in with confidence, holding door for his wife, Natasha.  Natasha Romanoff-Wilson, ex-assassin and corporate lawyer, was the best fit for Grant.  She treated the opposition as she would have the enemy.  They made a great team to get everything Steve ordered done.  

“Hey Cap, how are you today?”  

“How many times, Wilson, have I asked you to stop calling me that?” 

“Old habits die hard,” Sam said with a laugh. He shook Steve’s hand and Steve kissed Natasha’s cheek before settling down to business. “Steve, as you know, the university in New Jersey is looking into funding for its engineering program.” 

“Shouldn’t Stark be the more appropriate company to sponsor something like that?”  

“You would think,” Natasha said, “but we need the exposure.  Stark has a few interns but would need to lose one or two and they want us to take them on. So sponsoring the program would be a good tie in.”  

“If it boosts our profile, I guess its ok.  But can we also get another program as well.  Something in education?”  Steve wanted to be of service to all.  

“We can, absolutely,” Sam said.  “We can look at the background of some of the interns.” 

“Perfect.  What else?” 

The meeting continued for a few hours until it was time for Steve’s training session.  “I don’t know why you keep training Steve.  You’re retired,” Sam commented. 

“Because when you have the serum running through you, you have to burn out the energy somehow.”  

“Then get a girl.”  Sam smirked at him.  “That will get you to burn off some eagerly.”  

“Sam!” Natasha smacked her husband.  

“I’ll work on that Wilson. Natasha, see you tonight?  Save me a dance?” 

“Of course Steve.” Natasha kissed Steve’s cheek.  

“See you tonight Rogers,” Sam shook Steve’s hand.  He took Natasha’s hand and led her from the room.  

Steve headed into his en-suite to change for his workout with Bucky. Bucky was already in the private gym, lifting when Steve came in.  “Hey Steve,” he said with a grunt.  

“Hey Buck.” Steve took off his sweatshirt.  “What are we doing today?” 

“Just a spar.  Let you go out full.  I hear a little frustration today.”  

“Just have to go to an event for Wanda and Stark and they are ‘assigning’ me a date.”  

Bucky chuckled. “Why not invite one of the girls…” 

“Because that is not why I have them there for.” Bucky was the only one who knew of Steve’s preferences.  He made sure that the girls came and went unnoticed. “I don’t need them to think that I want something more.” 

“But don’t you?” Bucky and Steve circled each other in the ring. 

“No, they would just become a distraction or worse, a target.” Steve threw a punch.  “Besides, all of these women only want the shield and not me.  I don’t want that.” 

“Maybe one day you’ll find someone who will like you for you,” Bucky said, jumping from the leg sweep.  It is possible.  

“I don’t want to talk about this, Buck.” Steve grunted as Bucky landed a punch to his solar plex.  “I just want to get through this day.”  

Steve went to shower and review the business for the rest of the day.  Devon calls him, “I have an Isabella Davis here for signatures, sir.”  

“I thought it was Delilah Stevens.”  

“I’m sorry sir.”  

“It’s alright.  Send her in please.”  

Steve looked back down at the report he was reading.  His office door opened and a flurry of arms and legs landed on the floor.  Steve rushed over.  “Are you alright?” 

Her face looked up at his to see the most startling violet blue eyes he had ever seen.  

Next

Taglist:

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[xamaxenta]

Separating this from pilk but like Dragon utilising Sabo as a secretary whenever hes back at HQ is both hilarious and probably leaves everyone questioning the nature of their relationship

People see Sabo running errands, making drinks or taking food to Dragon

It causes quite the stir, there’s housekeep staff for this very purpose, surely the Chief has better things to do than play maid for their illustrious leader

Turns out Dragon only does it to get Sabo to take a break from his already absurd workload

Try as he might to give Sabo leave or breaks, Sabo refuses and gets right back into the thick of some paperwork or training the whole thing

So to keep him busy, to keep him thinking he’s being helpful and needed, Dragon has Sabo do chores simple tasks, that don’t require his attention, intellect or patience

Besides he’s the only one who can effectively order Sabo to do anything