#Gala Paper Towels

[writing0305]

PR Stunt.

Pairing: Homelander x F!Reader.

Summary: After being a little too nice to Homelander when you joined 'The Seven', Homelander became obsessed with you and managed to get Stillwell to put you two in a relationship for a PR stunt. Your fake boyfriend shows you just how serious he is about your relationship when he catches you talking to another man at a Christmas party.

Warning: Heavy swearing. Homelander!!!!! Murder and blood.

The second you joined the seven as one of the newest members, Homelander took a liking to you. Throughout a matter of a few days and weeks, his liking became an obsession. He was always around you, making sure you were partnered with him for every mission.

The worst mistake you could make was being nice to him. You didn’t want a single thing from him, you didn’t hide anything from him, you had his back. You offered him smiles and chatted with him. And it wasn’t because you were scared of him, he knew because he’d always listen to the rhythm of your heartbeat whenever he was around.

He went so far as to go behind your back and suggest Stillwell insist you two start dating as a PR stunt. He was the world’s greatest hero and you were America’s sweetheart. The fans adored you because you were always so nice and attentive towards them.

He managed to convince Stillwell that this relationship was what the seven and Vaught needed. He spun bullshit about the relationship showing that, despite your powers, you two were still human, with real emotions and feelings. And the relationship would bring together both you and his fans. Everyone loved a little romance.

You weren’t the most enthused about it when you heard what Stillwell was proposing, but you didn’t argue and you accepted it. And that was enough to satisfy Homelander. He could always make you love him if you weren’t going to come around to it on your own.

Now it has been two months and you still didn’t show the affection he wanted when you two were in privacy. But out there, in the public eye, you were the best girlfriend you could be. You were attentive and dotting towards him. And that only fueled both his obsession and delusion.

Vaught held an end-of-the-year Christmas gala. You were dressed in your suit like all the other supes. A suit Ashley had managed to get you to accept. It had long sleeves and that was the only modest part of it. The black leather clung to your body, your cleave bushed up with the black corset worked into your suit and your legs exposed as your skirt fell just above midthigh.

You walked around the party, your black ankle boots thumping on the floor. You offered kind smiles and exchanged a few pleasantries with a few people. You were more than aware of Homelander’s eyes on you as you walked through the crowds of people.

One particular man, named Josh, stopped you in your tracks. He was a lower employee from Vaught. No one special as he worked with the department that ran the Seven’s social media. You chatted for a while and you could almost feel the heat of Homelander’s eyes on your skin.

After departing from the man, you made a quick trip to the bathroom. As you stepped out of the stall, you caught sight of Homelander standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He looked completely pissed, his eyes dead and his jaw clenched.

I offered him a small smile. “Pretty sure this is the ladies' room.” You tried to joke with him as you approached the sink, washing your hands. You kept your gaze on your hands, feeling nervous about why the man was pissed.

“I know.” He muttered in a low voice. You listened to his footsteps and your gaze flicked up to the mirror, watching as he came to stand behind you, meeting your gaze through the mirror. “Came looking for you,” he told you.

“You found me.”You spoke up softly, your small smile remaining as a precaution to not piss him off further. You turned off the water and grabbed a few paper towels to dry your hands. “What’s up?” You questioned as you threw the paper towels away before turning to him.

He silently stared at you for a second, his top lip twitching into a snarl. “Who was that?” he questioned in a low voice as he quirked an eyebrow.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your head tilted to the side. “Who was who?” You asked softly, truly not knowing who he was referring to.

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me.” He snapped harshly and you gasped, startled by his sudden outburst. Since the day you met, Homelander always put his best foot forward and tried hard to push away this side of him. “We both know you’re a smart girl so use your fucking head.” He muttered in a low voice as he took a few steps towards you.

Your heartbeat sped up for a second and Homelander noticed. You slowly backed away, bumping against the sink behind you. “I don’t  know who you’re talking about.” You admitted softly as you shook your head.

He took a long stride towards you and grabbed your jaw in a tight grip, yanking you closer to him. That’s one thing Homelander enjoyed about you. You weren’t fragile and he didn’t have to be gentle. “The fucking man you were talking to.” He gritted out, his face inches away from yours.

Your eyes went a little wide as you stared at him. “I don’t who he is…he works for the social media crew.” You uttered all you knew about the man you had one brief conversation with.

“Josh.” Homelander gritted out, and you recognized it as the name of the man you were talking with.

A look of realization crossed your face as you stared at the tall and broad blonde in front of you, his grip still tight on you. “You were listening.” You muttered softly as you inhaled deeply.

“Of course, I was listening.” He snarled as he pulled your face closer to his. “Someone talks to my girl, I want to fucking know about what.” He muttered in a low voice, tilting your head back so that you could look up at him.

“He was just making friendly conversation.” You muttered softly with a sigh as you reached up to grip onto his wrist, your nails digging into his skin so hard, that if he was human, he’d have lasting nail marks.

His free hand gripped onto your hip, a hold that would bruise if you were a mere human. He shoved you back against the sink. “His cock was hard as a fucking rock while talking to you.” He gritted out, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you, searching for fear in your eyes but finding none.  You were careful, but not scared.

“We just talked.” You assured him softly as one of your hands moved from his wrist up to gently cup his cheek as you pursed your lips.

“You shouldn’t be talking to other fucking men.” He snapped as he let go of your jaw and waist and took a step back from you, his nostrils still flaring as he glared at you with cold blue eyes. But no matter how cold his eyes were, you were lucky they were still blue and not red.

“That is not your decision to make.” You muttered in a low voice as you shook your head. You ran a hand over your leather-clad waist and turned towards the door to leave.

Homelander grabbed onto your arm, stopping you right in your tracks and forcing you to turn around and face him. “Yes, it is.” He gritted out in a low voice as he glared down at you. “You are mine, not fucking Josh’s.” He spat as he yanked you against his chest, leaning down to smell your hair. He always loved your scent so much. It was intoxicating.

Your eyes squinted as you stared at him, your eyebrows also furrowing. “This isn’t a real relationship.” You reminded him softly.

“No!” he screamed as he let go of you once again, startling you as you jumped back. “It is!” he insisted in a firm voice. “It fucking is!”  He huffed before reaching out and grabbing your jaw again, pulling you an inch away from his face. “If I catch you near another man ever again…” he whispered, letting the warning hang in the air.

He turned around and walked out of the bathroom. You let out a huff of breath, running a hand over your hair as you briefly closed your eyes for a second. You ran a hand over your waist again before stepping out of the bathroom and rejoining the party.

Twenty minutes in, Homelander approached you as you talked with a rather large crowd of people. He had been gone since he stepped out of the bathroom and you were surprised to see him.

You didn’t bat an eye as he wrapped one arm around your waist, offering you a smile and kiss on the side of the head. You heard a few ‘awe’s’ and clicks of cameras as you adoringly leaned into his side, a bright smile on your face.

“Sweetheart, we should get going,” he informed you as he looked down at you. While everyone saw an adoring boyfriend being sweet with his girl, you saw a man forcing a smile with a look of warning in his eyes.

You let out a little chuckle as you turned a little in his hold and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we stay a little longer?” You asked as your head tilted to the side, your voice friendly.

“No, we’re leaving.” He said with a shake of his head, his smile remaining on his lips. He took your hands in his and began walking. You followed for a second but stopped in your tracks when you reached the doors leading outside. “We’re leaving, Y/n.”  He repeated himself firmly and yanked at your hand before he began walking again.

You followed him outside, your smile returning to your lips when you were met with the paparazzi outside. You wrapped your free arm around his arm that held onto your hand, leaning adoringly into his side.

Your eyebrows slightly furrowed when he steered you in a different direction than the car waiting for you. “Where are we going?” You asked softly as you glanced up at him.  “The car’s that way.” You muttered as you pointed in the direction of the car.

“I thought we could fly.” He replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders before letting go of your hand and holding out his arms. “Come on.” He urged you on. You didn’t think about it as you let him scoop you into his arms, and cameras flashed like fucking crazy at the sight. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he took off, flying us a few buildings over. We landed on the roof and he put me down onto my feet. “Such a beautiful view, don’t you think?”

You followed his line of sight as he stared out into the distance. You were high up and could see all the lights of the city. You slowly nodded your head, ignoring the faint stench of tangy copper that lingered in the air. “Yeah, the city lights are beautiful.” You agreed as you took a few steps closer to the edge of the roof and the smell grew stronger.

He followed after you, clasping his hands together behind his back. His gaze was on you and a soft smile tugged at his lips. “Just not quite as beautiful as you.” He replied as his blue eyes lingered on you.

Your nose scrunched up as your gaze began to dart around. “What’s that smell?” You asked softly as the familiar stench filled your nostrils.

Homelander turned his head to look at you, a wide grin spreading onto his lips. “You know what smell it is.” he insisted with a slow nod of his head. “Can you smell that tangy copper hint in the air?” He questioned as he raised his eyebrows.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes squinted at him. “What did you do?” You asked in a low voice.

“Go take a look.” he insisted as he nodded his head in the direction of the ledge, his smile growing ever wider.

You silently stared at him for a second before hesitantly walking in the direction he nodded in. The smell grew stronger and your eyebrows furrowed. You peered over the ledge, eyes widening at the sight on the balcony below.

It was a complete blood bath. Limps and guts were lying all over the balcony floor. The head of the man you were talking to, Josh, was presented on the glass patio table and turned to face you. He had a look of horror stuck on his lifeless face. “What the fuck…” You whispered as your lips parted in shock.

You let out a startled gasp when Homelanded placed his hands on your shoulders, standing inches behind you. “See sweetheart…that’s what happens to someone who wants what is mine.” He whispered in your ear. “I don’t share, Y/n.”

You slowly turned around to face him, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. “You killed him…” You muttered in disbelief as you stared up at Homelander.

“And I’ll kill every other man who wants you.” He replied with a nod of his head as he reached out to cup your cheek. “Is that understood?” He asked softly as his thumb brushed over your cheek. When you remained silent, his hand moved from your cheek to grab onto your jaw. “Fucking answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes.” You replied softly as you stared up at him, coming to realize what a fucking big mistake it was to be so overly friendly.

“Good.”He replied as a soft smile tugged at his lips and his hand returned to your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. He sighed softly as he shook his head. “We can’t let them ruin what we have, Y/n.” He said softly as his head tilted to the side.  “Don’t you agree?”

You silently stared at him for a second, offering a small smile as you nodded. “Yes.” You replied softly and he pulled you into his embrace. Your smile slowly slipped as your head rested against his chest. What the fuck did you get yourself into?

[rileyslibrary]

Taking initiative.

Synopsis: While the rest of the team sees it as just another get-together at the local pub, this particular night is important to you; tonight, you will confess your feelings to Simon.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,511

Notes:

I’ve wanted to write this for a long time but couldn’t find the strength.

Warning: This is not what you think it is. It’s pure angst/hurt, guaranteed to break your heart into a thousand pieces. Proceed with caution. (And no, no one is dying; calm down, jeez.)

———————————————————————

Your right hand is resting on your hip. The other is gently stroking your chin, taking care not to ruin your subtle makeup. You look at your wardrobe with a mixture of confusion and worry. It’s an oxymoron to have so many clothes but nothing to wear. Or, to put it another way, nothing to wear for the occasion.

This is the night. You’re about to do something you’ve never done before. You will attempt to flirt with Simon for the first time in two years. You can say it however you want: test the waters, confess your attraction, show him you care. Regardless of how much you teased your other teammates, it was something you’d never done before with him. Which brings up another oxymoron unrelated to fashion: why were you always so open with Gaz, Soap, and Price—the ones you only saw as friends—but so closed off with Simon, the one you actually wanted to attract?

You unhook a short, silky black dress with thin spaghetti straps. It will look great with your high-heeled sandals. You tilt your head at the dress and shake your head. No, it’s too sexy. Also, the weather forecast predicted rain for tonight.

You put it back in the closet and take out another dress, this one red, long and with a plunging neckline. You scoff; you’re going to the pub, not a gala dinner. It might be better to go with something a little more... inconspicuous.

Your phone dings. Soap just send a text to the group chat.

“Where the hell are you guys? I’m all alone.”

Then another ding. It’s Soap again.

“Never mind, Price just arrived.”

You put down your phone and return your attention to your wardrobe. You don’t want to be the last one to arrive again. You’d better make a decision soon.

So you choose something that makes you feel good rather than something that portrays you in a different light: a pair of light blue jeans and a cute green blouse. You wear it with your beige mid-heeled boots, grab a small clutch bag, and head to the bar.

You text Soap, telling him you’re on your way to the pub and he replies with a thumbs-up emoji. He must be pissed.

Walking towards the pub, it begins to rain, and you curse the clutch bag in your hands; choosing a purse that could only fit your ID and some cash while knowing it would rain was a foolish decision.

You quicken your pace as you notice the pub’s entrance. You open the door and take cover in the warmth of the room. It’s crowded, but you don’t mind; the more, the merrier, you think, especially with what you’re about to do.

You hear someone whistling and turn to see Soap’s hand waving at you. Price and Gaz are also here. Simon has yet to arrive, and you suspect he is stuck in traffic, especially if he chose to ride the bus instead of his motorbike due to the rain.

“You’re drenched.” Soap says as he examines you from head to toe.

You open your arms so he can admire your current condition. “Oh no, can you tell?” You mock him and excuse yourself to go the loo to ‘get yourself together’. A vague statement with multiple meanings—to them, you were going to dry yourself up. To you, ‘getting yourself together’ was mentally preparing for tonight.

“You’ve got this,” you tell yourself as you look in the mirror, “you can do it.” You take some paper towels from the dispenser and pat yourself while whispering encouraging words.

But then the restroom door opens, and you immediately stop the pep talk. You turn to face another woman who is in worse shape than you. You smile, and she smiles back, acknowledging each other’s presence. You take a few more paper towels from the dispenser and hand them to her. She chuckles and thanks you before taking your offer.

“At least it didn’t get my hair.” She comments, and you smile at her. At least you didn’t hear me talking to myself, you think and exit the restroom to make your way to your table.

You notice him from across the room, sitting with the rest of the team. You’ve seen him without his mask before. He repeatedly trusted you with his identity. He’s shown you numerous times how much he’s willing to risk for you and the rest of the team. How can you be so afraid? Perhaps he feels the same way. “You just have to take the initiative,” he’d tell you on missions, “don’t wait for them to strike first.” What if this was an indirect way of telling you that he wants you to take more initiative regarding the two of you?

As you get closer to the table, you perk up and decide to sit in the chair next to him; you’ll be able to “strike” more effectively this way.

He notices you and shoots you a slight smile that sets your insides on fire.

“Hello ther-” you start to greet him but stop when you see the chair you’re about to sit in.

A motorbike helmet is on—an extra one from the one Simon holds in front of him.

“At least it didn’t get my hair,” you reflect on your conversation with the girl in the washroom, and your heart sinks. You raise your head and notice her approaching your table. This is her helmet; she didn’t get her hair wet because of it. Simon gave her this helmet so she could hug him from behind while riding on the back of his motorbike. To protect her and bring her here to meet the rest of you.

“Y/N,” Simon says, looking up at the woman beside his chair, “this is Daphne.”

“We met at the loo, but didn’t properly introduce ourselves,” she explains, extending her hand to you.

Neither should we, you think and stare at her hand like a landmine, ready to detonate at any moment.

Pools begin to form in your eyes, and a lump seeks refuge in your throat. But you muster the courage to take her hand in yours. You squeeze it, perhaps a little too hard, and smile at “Daphne” with all that’s left of you.

“I-I’ll go get me a drink,” you say shakily and dash to the bar.

You stare blankly at the counter and rest your forearms on it to keep yourself from collapsing. You try to control your breathing while fighting the tears. Fight back. Fight them off. You’ve fought tougher enemies before; now fight the tears.

A finger taps the space between your forearms; It’s the bartender asking for your order.

You raise your head to meet her gaze, and her warm smile gives place to an empathetic frown. She’s seen that look before. She’s seen many people in your shoes—sad, pained, hurt.

“What can I do for you, love?” she asks quietly.

Your eyes well up with tears, and you shake your head.

“I need to go,” you say, and she nods as if giving you permission.

You race to the door, taking a quick glimpse at your table before leaving. Soap is on the phone with whoever he decided to booty call this time. Price looks at Gaz, who is still babbling about something, and Daphne is speaking to Simon.

But Simon ignores her. Two dark brown eyes have been following you the entire time, just as they do when you’re on a mission together, waiting for you to look back at them.

He says something to her and stands up, but you open the dorr as soon as you see him approaching.

It’s pouring outside, but you don’t care anymore. You unlock your phone and send a text message to Soap.

“Something urgent came up; I’ll catch up with you later.”

Lies. Straight-up lies.

You quicken your pace and don’t dare to look back. You don’t want him following you; you want to get lost.

But who are you trying to fool? You are the one who lost him.

Your tears blend with the rain, and you reflect on his words. “You just have to take the initiative; don’t wait for them to strike up first.” Well, Daphne has beaten you to it and struck first.

You hug yourself and feel the green blouse you so carefully chose for tonight. Green; the colour of new beginnings and the colour of envy. Another oxymoron.

You picked a good colour for tonight.

———————————————————————

A/N: To those asking if I plan on making a part 2, here’s the answer!

[pityroadart]

since the tags on my Lewis hands painting have mostly been along the lines of #WATERCOLOR?! HOW? (thank you!!) I figured I may as well do a wee step by step of how I painted the skin)

(disclaimer: I did not take many photos of the different stages, so you'll just have to trust the power of my narration)

(above) first up: the reference was from the Met Gala, as posted on Lewis Hamilton's Instagram. I can't take credit for the framing/pose — that was all the photographer

here's my cleaned up sketch and the first couple layers — I did a wash of colour on the hands first (quin burnt sienna PO48 quin maroon PR209 pigments my beloved, the best for warmer/deeper skin tones), added in a layer of shadows in the same colour to build structure, then got the inky black background in (mostly burnt umber PBr7 & French ultramarine PB29 I believe, with a bit of Roman Szmal's shadow grey too)

I kinda wish I'd left the background like that, but hey this whole piece was an experiment so I'll learn from it next time

next I added in further shading to the hands — again with the same skin tones as before, in different concentrations depending on the area, with the addition of some redder and darker tones too where needed. I also painted in the tattoos here — making sure they're under a layer or two of watercolour settles them into the skin like a real tattoo, rather than them looking sharpied on

And then! this is where the magic happens, and the part I'm most pleased with: by the stage of the first image above, the shadows were great in terms of position/shade, but felt a bit too blocky and stylised for the piece. So, if you get to the same issue (whether painting skin or clothing or anything with softer and more rounded contours), what you wanna do is:

make a pool of incredibly diluted skin tone mix on your palette. Literally, just water with a subtle hint of colour, roughly the same value as your highlights

get your softest brush. Nope, softer than that. In watercolour brushes, 'springy' is the opposite to 'soft', so you want bristles that don't really bounce back to their original shape if you push the wet brush against a firm surface. I'm using the Silver Black Velvet brush I've been using for the whole painting, but ideally a squirrel/sable or synthetic sable brush is gonna work

gently paint that diluted skin tone wash over the whole of the area (the hands, in this piece). This is why you want your softest brush, so as not to disturb the paint underneath too much. It also helps if the pigments you've been using are more staining (resistant to lifting). In general, phthalos and quinacridones are most staining, and granulating pigments least so. I've been using earth quinacridones here, which are moderately staining. Using good quality 100% cotton paper also helps

before that diluted wash is dry, get some paper towel and dab out the highlights. This keeps the edges softer and more natural than if you just painted around them

the wash you applied should have been just enough to soften those hard edges of shading you had previously, leaving lovely soft and more realistic transitions. Ta-dah!

then, off-camera, I added the darkest shading, painted in the gold, and felt it was missing something so added some scribbly highlights in 'ivory' coloured pencil. And that's that! It did involve a lot more swearing and complaining than I've just made it seem, but the skin part at least was something I'm used to.

[ozzyandfriends]

Theatre au interaction

—————————————

“Felix? Don’t you think you should look around a bit instead of.. y’know? Staring at the invite?” Ted asked, his voice faintly drowned out by the commotion

“No Teddy. There must be a map or something on here somewhere..” Felix replied, keeping his face planted in front of his paper. “You can go do your own thing Teddy, I don’t need-“

Loud drink spill crash.

….

Awkward silence

——————————————

Please tell me if I’m doing this right

Madison stood there, frozen, processing what had just happened. Oh, that’s right, her brand new lovely gala outfit got soaked in punch.

“Mayday! Are you alright? Here, take my jacket.” Ozzy took the jacket that was hanging over his shoulders and slung it over Madison, patting her back as he did so. “Ron, could you grab some paper towels?”

“On it!” Ron gave a thumbs up and ran over somewhere to acquire some paper towels. Madison, watching him run off and gripping the hem of Ozzy’s jacket, felt a tinge of guilt.

“Sorry about this..” She smiled politely, but in such a way you could tell she was just forcing it.

“Don’t be sorry,” Ozzy smiled at her, but his expression quickly changed as he took a glance towards the instigators. “It’s not your fault.”

[calinaannehart]

The Parts We Play - Chapter 9

“And then Miss Greene said she liked my story so much that she wants to put it in the school paper!” Chris practically yells, gesticulating with so much excitement that his cereal bowl goes flying. Buck scrambles to catch the bowl, attempting to limit the amount of milk that gets spilled, and just manages to snag it before it drops over the lip of the table. “Oops, sorry.” Chris winces.

“It’s okay, buddy, you were just excited,” Eddie tells him, grabbing some paper towels and mopping up the puddle of milk and spilled cereal.

“Yeah, no need to cry over spilled milk,” Buck laughs at his own joke, his big dopey grin faltering when Chris just blinks at him, not getting the punchline. “Oh, come on, that was funny.”

“Was it?” Christopher deadpans. Buck lays a hand over his heart and puts on an overacted sad face.

“You wound me, Chris.”

Eddie leaves them to their banter while he cleans up the rest of the mess, the devoted attention Buck is giving his son making his heart sing. He always listens to whatever Christopher tells him with rapt attention, hanging off every word even when the kid trips over them and tells his stories out of sequence. Buck never gets frustrated or looks like he’s had enough of Chris’ attention, always happy to build ‘just one more’ Lego sculpture or play ‘one last round’ of Mario Kart.

They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, he and Buck as well as the three of them together, and it’s clear that Christopher is enamored with the man and not just because Buck played his favorite superhero. Buck has time for him.

Buck’s schedule has been pretty full on, runs of sixteen-hour filming days, with sessions with his personal trainer and various press appearances sandwiched between. It’s left Eddie wondering when Buck finds time to eat or sleep, he either has limitless energy or survives on an unhealthy amount of caffeine.

“Are you excited for next week?” Buck asks as Eddie clears the last of the cereal, pushing Christopher’s bowl back toward him as a prompt to finish his breakfast.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” He shrugs, leaning down to steal a bite of Buck’s toast as he lifts it to his mouth. Christopher hadn’t questioned why Buck was already at his house when he woke up that morning, it’s not the first time he’s joined them for breakfast. In the three weeks since the gala, he’s stayed over as often as he can as long as he’s not on a night shoot and Eddie isn’t working.

It's been nice. Really nice, in fact, snuggling under the covers with someone again. Eddie’s never been a touchy-feely type of person, not even with Shannon. He enjoyed it when they did touch, whether it was with or without clothes, but he’s never really needed that physical contact as much as some people do. As much as Buck seems to. But he hadn’t quite realized just how much he missed the feeling of skin on skin, the opportunity to explore another body with his fingers, his lips, or his tongue.

Read on AO3

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[ladyathenawisdom]

Gangster'sWife / Pt. 2

Warnings: Language, Mature Themes, Violence, Spicy.

Part 3

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

Hero hummed quietly, trying to distract her thoughts from Superhero's deadly mission. She let out a sigh as hot water washed over her, she closed her eyes in relaxation.

Fear ate at her, filling her entire being. Had Superhero gone crazy? She supposed he did. Many heroes did go crazy with all the attention on them and their awful mental health issues. It wouldn't be a far fetched idea that he had gone insane too.

The misson he gave her team was hard, no, it wasn't hard. It was impossible. Nobody had ever caught him.

He never got caught. He was clever, tactical, cunning, intelligent, smart, strong, alluring, charming, handsome, beautiful, funny, sweet....

Hero paused, she shook her head at her stupid thoughts as memories filled her. She sighs, closing the water and stepping out of the shower. She grabs a towel, walking out of the bathroom.

Her heart lurched.

She stared at the bouquet of black roses, and the letter attached to it, that wasn't there before.

Her eyes hurriedly scanned her apartment, wild and in a frenzy. She swallows hard, her grip on the towel tightening as she squirmed.

She shakes her head, walking over to quickly grab the card. Her eyes fill with confusion, seeing that it was the invitation to the heroes and villains gala. She frowns, she already had a invitation, why would someone give her another one?

She shakes her head, her eyes going to the black roses. She swallows hard, suspecting who this someone was. The gala was in a week, she hadn't thought that it was important because every year she went, it turned out to be boring.

Hero turns and flips the card, her lips parting when she sees the note at the back of the invite.

Hope to see you soon, Mi Amor. ♥︎

Hero clenches her jaw, tightening her fingers around the delicate but intricate paper. It wrinkled immediately, she scowls. She grunts, ripping it into pieces as her anger flared. She shakes her head, glaring hard at the torn up pieces of paper. She looks at the bouquet.

She swallows hard when she notices the thorns on them. She scowls, grabbing the stems of the flowers and heading towards her kitchen, throwing them in the trash. She sighs, putting her hands on her hips as her wet hair flung.

She needs to control her emotions.

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

"Your being an idiot,"

"No, your being a idiot."

"No, your a fucking idiot. Why would he be there?"

"Because it's where the most crimes are."

"That's stupid. It's always been a high crime rate country, you buffoon."

"Atleast I'm actually trying to work!"

Hero sighs, watching as Teammate and Sidekick went back and forth in their argument.

Hero 2 only rolled her eyes, working on her laptop while Teammate 2 didn't seem to care.

Leader did care as he glared at the two. "Shut up, both of you. This is serious. Superhero gave us a mission, we need to fulfill it."

"Yeah, an impossible one." Teammate 2 snorts.

Leader turns his glare to her. "Enough with the snark. It's not impossible if we work hard and actually do something!" He snaps, annoyed.

"We are working hard!" Teammate 2 snaps all or a sudden, her eyes fiery. "We can't find him. It's fucking impossible. We can't even track him because we have no idea where he is or who he is."

Hero 2 nods. "And it's impossible because no one knows nothing about him. He literally lurks in the shadows, never revealing himself. What are we even supposed to track?"

Leader clenches his jaw, not caring whether they would work themselves to death. "We need to fucking find him somehow!" He growls.

Sidekick grunts. "I'm gonna take a break, I have a headache." He turns and walks out, muttering curses under his breath.

Hero spoke up. "Me too. I'm tired," she pulls all the files off her lap. "I'll be back in a moment." She gets off, ignoring Leader's glare on her back.

It was no secret he envied her. She had been working for centuries for their organization, being one of the best and most powerful heroes. But even if he was number 1, he always felt threatened by her. She may not look old, but her mind technically was.

She had years of experience.

Hero sighs, stepping out of the building. She takes a deep breath, smiling at the fresh air. She looks around the large vast area of the parking lot.

Looking around, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes. She lights one up, taking a slow drag. She had picked up the habit 2 months ago, needing a way to relax.

She found a way, a bad one, but still a way.

She closes her eyes, taking a long inhale before blowing out. She sighs, staring at it with a deep frown. She shouldn't have picked up the habit, but it's not like anyone would notice or care.

One person did, used too.

She shakes her head, taking another inhale. She hated this. Why did Superhero have to act all macho? It's not like anyone could catch him, it was freaking impossible.

Hero looks down, thinking everything over. Why did everything have to be so complicated. She stomps her cigarette on the floor with her shoe before heading inside, scowling.

When she had taken hee seat again, Sidekick had returned a few minutes later, fixing his clothes.

Teammate had glanced at him and roller her eyes.

Hero 2 had grabbed a board and had started drawing and writing on it with a marker while Teammate 2 watched.

Leader glanced up every once in a while as he typed on his laptop.

Hero sighs, continuing with her work.

It was a few minutes later when Leader shot up in his seat, his eyes wide. "Fuck!'

Hero 2 yelps. "What's wrong!" She turns to him, watching as he stared at his laptop.

Sidekick, Teammate, Hero 2 and Teammate 2 all hover around him. Hero frowns, but stands up to join him.

Her heart drops when she sees what it is.

"Someone sent an anyomous note, saying that Supervillain will be at the heroes and villains gala on Saturday." Leader spoke.

Hero 2 stared at the screen eagerly as Hero's heart dropped with fear and anticipation.

"Woah, it says they'll be planning to steal the documents that Mentor has." Teammate 2 frowns.

Sidekick smirks. "Well, atleast we finally got a clue."

"Pfft," Teammate scoffs. "We don't even know if it's real. What if someone is tricking us? What if they're lying?"

Hero 2 scoffs. "How could someone trick us? The laptop belongs to the industry, which has a very tight security wall. As if someone could hack us. This might be legit as someone clearly worked hard to send us this information."

"Yeah," Teammate 2 nods. "They might have even given their life for it. Any person who is even close to finding Supervillain, is found dead later on. He gets rid of them so easily."

Teammate frowns, but knows they have a point.

Hero stays silent, staring at the laptop. Was this true? How was this possible? Why? Why though?

"We neen to keep the documents and harddrive safe," Leader spkke sternly, his eyes narrowed.

"Agreed," Hero finally spoke up, nodding slowly.

"Me too," Hero 2 nods, Teammate 2 also nods.

Teammate rolls her eyes but nods. "Fine, fine. But if it's a scam....."

"Yeah, yeah." Sidekick scoffs. "I told you so and shit. So yeah, we need to keep them safe. We need to be prepared,"

Hero bites her lower lip.

"Good," Leader smiles, looking absolutely happy. "I'll go and inform and Superhero. He'll be so happy we finally found a lead."

Hero watched him as he left, feeling her heart start to sink.

"Oh, now we need to discuss what we'll wear." Hero 2 sqeals.

Sidekick only rolls his eyes.

..........

A few days went by, with that gala right around the corner.

Hero stayed silent as the team worked, analyzing everything and overthinking.

They debated how he would be there and how he came to be, seeing as the gala was invite only. But that shouldn't have been problem, seeing as who he was.

"But who sent it?" Teammate frowns.

"Probably someone now dead," Sidekick snorts.

Hero pursues her lips, looking down towards her laptop.

"Okay, everyone settle down." Leader called out, looking at his team. "We need to assign our positions."

"Oh, goody." Teammate 2 sighs.

"Alright," Hero says, putting her laptop down and turning her whole attention to him.

"Good." Leader nods. "Okay. So, we need lookouts, so Teammate and Teammate 2 will lookout for any suspicious activity."

The two nod obediently.

"Hero 2, you'll keep an eye of the documents, along with Sidekick."

Hero 2 frowns. "Seriously?"

"Do I have to work with her?" Sidekick scowls.

"Yes." Leader states sternly. "Both of you need to keep an eye on the documents. Stay near the office, take turns watching Superhero's office."

"Fine," Sidekick grumbled.

"Hero, you'll keep an eye on the hard-drive." Leader orders. "And I'll keep an update on you guys and keep Superhero informed, got it?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, Leader."

.........

[ollieinoue]

Commencement Gala midway-ish through the night [ @court-mills ]

Ollie sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom, legs spread in front of him as he tried to carefully scrub the red stain out of his white gauzy shirt after a tragic grenadine accident at the bar. His jacket covered the stain, sure, but this shirt costed so much to really get cleaned. "Fuck," he muttered, wondering if he should just go around to every single person here asking if they had a spot treatment pen for him to use. He glanced up as the door swung open, eyes landing on Coco, and giving a deep sigh. Not exactly a person he wanted to see, but it could be a lot worse. "You don't happen to have any sort of stain remover on you?" He asked, might as well start somewhere, he wasn't sure if Coco was the type, but he had a lot of little siblings right? So maybe he was the always prepared sort. Who knew? "Could you get me some more wet paper towels if you don't? I'm going to cry thanks." He said, over dramatic as always. But this was the worst thing that could happen. (It wasn't).

[rioranchoportapottyrentals]

RIO RANCHO PORTA POTTY RENTALS

When planning an outdoor event, construction project, or any large gathering in Rio Rancho, NM, one essential service you'll need is reliable sanitation. Porta potty rentals offer a practical solution for such needs. This article explores the different types of porta potty rentals available in Rio Rancho, including regular, deluxe, wheelchair accessible units, portable handwashing stations, and luxury trailers, helping you choose the right option for your specific requirements.

Regular Porta Potties

The most common choice for basic outdoor needs is the regular porta potty. These units are straightforward, featuring a toilet, urinal, and hand sanitizer dispenser. They are typically used at construction sites, casual outdoor events, and public gatherings. The simplicity of these units makes them a cost-effective option, especially when renting in bulk. In Rio Rancho, these are widely available and can be easily set up in various locations, ensuring attendees have access to clean and functional facilities.

Deluxe Porta Potties

For those looking for something a step above the basic model, deluxe porta potties are an excellent choice. These units often include additional amenities such as a flushing toilet, running water, and a small sink. Some deluxe models also feature interior lighting and mirrors, making them more comfortable for guests who may need to use them during evening events. These are particularly popular for weddings, private parties, and corporate events where a higher standard of comfort and convenience is desired.

Wheelchair Accessible Porta Potties

Accessibility is a crucial consideration for any event planner. Wheelchair accessible porta potties are designed to accommodate individuals with disabilities. These units are larger than standard porta potties and provide features like handrails, a wide door, and ample interior space to maneuver a wheelchair. These facilities ensure that all guests, regardless of mobility, can attend events in Rio Rancho with dignity and ease.

Portable Handwashing Stations

Hygiene continues to be a top priority at gatherings, and portable handwashing stations are an essential complement to any type of porta potty rental. These stations provide a hygienic solution for guests to wash their hands before eating or after using the restroom. Equipped with soap, running water, and paper towels, these stations are particularly important in settings where food is served, such as festivals and community fairs. Adding handwashing stations around your event site can significantly enhance guest comfort and cleanliness.

Luxury Trailers

For high-end events, luxury restroom trailers offer the ultimate in comfort and elegance. These trailers resemble a home's bathroom, with features like air conditioning, heating, hardwood floors, porcelain toilets, and stylish décor. Some luxury trailers even provide separate compartments for men and women, music systems, and exterior lighting. They are a favorite for upscale events like weddings, galas, and executive gatherings, where the expectations for comfort and luxury are high.

Choosing the Right Rental for Your Needs in Rio Rancho

When selecting a porta potty rental in Rio Rancho, consider several factors:

Event Type and Attendee Profile: The nature of your event and the expectations of your guests play a significant role in determining the type of porta potty you should rent. For instance, luxury trailers may be overkill for a casual family reunion, whereas they might be perfect for an upscale outdoor wedding.

Number of Guests: The number of units you need depends on the number of attendees. A general rule of thumb is to have at least one porta potty unit for every 50 guests at an event lasting more than three hours.

Location Accessibility: Ensure the delivery area is accessible for the types of units you rent. For example, luxury trailers require more space and might need additional power and water hookups.

Rental Duration: The length of your event will also impact the cost and type of porta potty you choose. Long-term rentals might benefit from discounts or additional services like regular cleaning and maintenance.

Local Regulations: Always check local regulations in Rio Rancho regarding sanitation facilities at public and private events. Compliance is crucial for the smooth execution of your event.

Conclusion

In Rio Rancho, NM, porta potty rentals are a critical component of planning any outdoor event or construction project. By understanding the different types available—from basic units to luxurious restroom trailers—you can better cater to the needs of your guests and ensure a successful and compliant event. Whether it's a simple gathering or an elaborate celebration, there's a porta potty solution that fits every need in Rio Rancho.

[miramarportapottyrentals]

MIRAMAR PORTA POTTY RENTALS

When organizing any outdoor event in Miramar, FL, whether it be a festival, construction project, or private party, one of the essential considerations must be the provision of adequate restroom facilities. Porta potty rentals are a versatile and necessary solution to this need. This article explores the various types of porta potties available for rent in Miramar, FL, including regular units, deluxe models, wheelchair-accessible options, portable handwashing stations, and luxury restroom trailers.

Regular Porta Potties

The regular porta potty is the most commonly seen model at outdoor events and construction sites. These standard units are equipped with a toilet seat, a holding tank, and often a hand sanitizer dispenser. They are designed to be highly functional and cost-effective. In Miramar, where the weather can vary significantly, these units provide a basic but vital service. They are particularly suitable for large events where the volume of use will be high, as they can be easily deployed in large numbers.

Deluxe Porta Potties

Deluxe porta potties step up in comfort and amenities from the regular models. These units often include additional features such as flushing toilets, running water sinks, and sometimes even air fresheners and interior lighting. These features make them a preferable choice for events where a higher standard of comfort and convenience is desired, such as corporate gatherings or upscale outdoor receptions in Miramar's picturesque locations like Miramar Regional Park or the Historic Miramar Cultural Center.

Wheelchair Accessible Porta Potties

Accessibility is a critical consideration for any event planner, and wheelchair-accessible porta potties address this need effectively. These units are larger than standard porta potties to accommodate a wheelchair and may include features such as handrails, a non-slip floor, and a wider door. This inclusivity ensures that all guests, regardless of mobility, can attend events in Miramar with comfort and dignity.

Portable Handwashing Stations

Hygiene is paramount, especially in settings where food is served, or large crowds gather. Portable handwashing stations are an excellent complement to any type of porta potty rental, providing facilities for guests to wash their hands with soap and running water. These stations are typically equipped with water tanks, soap dispensers, paper towels, and sometimes even mirrors, making them both functional and user-friendly. For events like the Miramar Farmers Market or community sports events, these stations are indispensable.

Luxury Restroom Trailers

For the ultimate in comfort and elegance, luxury restroom trailers offer a superior experience that resembles indoor restrooms. These trailers come with multiple stalls, often featuring wooden cabinetry, plush interiors, climate control, and full-size mirrors. Such amenities make them ideal for high-end events such as weddings, gala dinners, or important business retreats held in scenic Miramar locations. These trailers not only provide comfort but also enhance the overall ambiance of the event.

Considerations for Renting in Miramar, FL

When renting porta potties in Miramar, there are several local considerations to keep in mind:

Climate: Miramar's climate can be hot and humid, especially in the summer months. Units with ventilation or air conditioning, such as deluxe models or luxury trailers, can provide more comfort for users.

Location: Depending on the event location, the logistics of delivery and setup need to be planned. Some areas might require units that are more resilient to winds, like those seen during hurricane season.

Local Regulations: It's essential to be aware of local health regulations and environmental guidelines, which may dictate the number and type of units you need based on the size and duration of your event.

Conclusion

Renting the right type of porta potty in Miramar, FL, enhances event guests' comfort and satisfaction and ensures compliance with health and safety standards. Whether you choose a basic model for a local fair, a deluxe unit for a corporate event, a wheelchair-accessible option for inclusivity, a portable handwashing station for added hygiene, or a luxury trailer for an exclusive gathering, each has its own place and purpose. Proper planning and selection according to your specific needs and local conditions will make any event in Miramar both memorable and manageable.

[greenacrefarm]

Apple Fritters Homemade Apple Fritters! This cake donut-like fried pastry is easy to make and the perfect fall dessert! A sweet batter is dotted with fresh, crisp apples and deep fried until perfectly golden brown, then it’s finished by rolling in plen… 

[pastel-stuff-pastel]

Experience Comfort with High-End Portable Bathroom Rentals

When organizing events or outdoor gatherings, ensuring the utmost comfort and convenience for attendees becomes a top priority? Gone are the days of basic, uncomfortable portable restrooms that dampen the overall experience. High-end portable bathroom rental have emerged as a game-changer, offering a luxurious and sophisticated alternative. These state-of-the-art facilities boast modern amenities, sleek designs and superior cleanliness, providing guests with a truly upscale restroom experience. Whether it's a high-profile wedding, a corporate function, or a large-scale festival, opting for high-end portable bathrooms guarantees an elevated level of comfort that leaves a lasting impression on your guests. Say goodbye to outdated porta-potties and embrace a new era of luxury portable restrooms that redefine event sanitation and comfort.

Discover the Ultimate in Luxury and Convenience with High-End Portable Bathroom Rentals

In the world of event planning and outdoor gatherings, comfort and convenience are paramount. Gone are the days of traditional, lackluster portable restrooms that leave guests feeling unimpressed and uncomfortable. Instead, event organizers and hosts are embracing a new era of sophistication and luxury with high-end portable bathroom rentals. These cutting-edge facilities offer an unparalleled level of comfort and convenience, elevating any event to extraordinary heights. With modern amenities, stylish designs, and a commitment to superior service, high-end portable bathrooms redefine the perception of event sanitation. Whether it's an upscale wedding, a corporate gala, or a high-profile festival, these portable bathrooms provide a lavish and unforgettable experience for all attendees. Step into a world of opulence and convenience, where guests can indulge in the highest standards of luxury without compromising on comfort.

Unparalleled Comfort for Your Guests with High-End Portable Bathrooms

When planning a remarkable event, every detail matters, including the restroom facilities. High-end portable bathrooms are the key to taking your event to the next level, providing a level of comfort and luxury that leaves a lasting impression on your guests. Unlike standard portable restrooms, these upscale alternatives offer air-conditioning or heating, premium lighting, spacious interiors, and even amenities like vanity mirrors and sleek countertops. The thoughtfully designed features cater to guests' needs and provide a sense of opulence that is typically reserved for high-end venues. Attendees can now enjoy a truly comfortable and refreshing restroom experience, enhancing their overall enjoyment of the event. Whether it's a private wedding or a large-scale corporate gathering, high-end portable bathrooms ensure that your guests will feel pampered and valued throughout the occasion.

A Closer Look at Our High-End Portable Bathrooms

High-end portable bathrooms are the epitome of elegance and innovation. Their sophisticated design and meticulous attention to detail set them apart from conventional portable restrooms. Each unit boasts modern aesthetics and is equipped with the latest amenities, creating a luxurious oasis in any setting. From high-quality materials and tasteful décor to air fresheners and climate control, every aspect is carefully considered to offer an unmatched restroom experience. The spacious interiors provide ample room for guests to move comfortably, while elegant lighting and decorative accents add a touch of refinement. State-of-the-art features like flushing toilets, hands-free sinks, and touchless paper towel dispensers further elevate the hygiene and convenience levels. With these high-end portable bathrooms, event organizers can offer their guests a seamless blend of sophistication and practicality that reflects the essence of a truly memorable occasion.

How High-End Portable Bathrooms Enhance Any Venue or Occasion?

One of the remarkable advantages of high-end portable bathrooms is their versatility and ability to seamlessly integrate into any event or venue. Regardless of the location, these units are designed to complement and enhance the surroundings, maintaining the event's overall aesthetic and atmosphere. From outdoor weddings in scenic landscapes to corporate events in urban settings, high-end portable bathrooms are a practical and elegant solution. These units are expertly designed to be easily installed and require minimal space, making them a perfect choice for events with spatial constraints. The ability to position them strategically ensures guests have convenient access without compromising the flow of the event. With high-end portable bathrooms, event organizers can confidently provide their guests with luxurious restroom facilities that are a seamless part of the overall experience.

Ensuring a Clean and Sanitary Experience for All

Hygiene is of utmost importance, especially in shared spaces like restroom facilities. High-end portable bathrooms prioritize cleanliness and sanitation, setting a new standard in the industry. Each unit undergoes rigorous cleaning and maintenance protocols, ensuring that guests encounter pristine and germ-free environments. From regular waste disposal to thorough cleaning between events, the hygiene practices adhere to the highest standards. Moreover, features like touchless fixtures and hand sanitizing stations minimize contact and reduce the risk of spreading germs. These state-of-the-art units are well-ventilated, preventing the buildup of unpleasant odors, and offer hands-free amenities for a touchless experience. With a focus on hygiene, high-end portable bathrooms provide peace of mind to guests, allowing them to fully enjoy the event without any concerns about the restroom facilities.

Tailoring High-End Portable Bathrooms to Suit Your Event's Needs

Every event is unique, and high-end portable bathroom rental services understand the importance of catering to specific requirements. Whether it's a small intimate gathering or a grand celebration, these units can be customized to suit the event's theme, size, and preferences. The rental providers offer a range of options, allowing event organizers to select the most appropriate units based on the number of guests and the event's duration. Moreover, custom branding and signage options are available, enabling hosts to showcase their event's logo or design on the exterior, adding a personal touch to the facilities. The ability to personalize the high-end portable bathrooms ensures that they seamlessly blend with the event's overall aesthetics, leaving a lasting impression on attendees and reflecting the host's commitment to providing an extraordinary experience.

The Future of Comfort and Elegance in Event Rentals

High-end portable bathrooms represent the vanguard of event rentals, revolutionizing the way guests experience restroom facilities. Their emergence marks a paradigm shift in the perception of portable restrooms, transforming them from a practical necessity to a luxury amenity. As technology and design continue to evolve, these units are constantly being upgraded to provide even greater levels of comfort, convenience, and sustainability. The integration of eco-friendly features, such as water-saving fixtures and solar-powered lighting, demonstrates a commitment to environmental responsibility. Furthermore, the continuous improvement of hygiene measures ensures that guests can enjoy the utmost cleanliness and sanitation. As high-end portable bathrooms continue to push the boundaries of luxury and innovation, they cement their place as the future of event rentals, offering a delightful and elegant restroom experience that enhances any occasion.

Conclusion

In conclusion, experiencing comfort with high-end portable bathroom rentals redefines the notion of convenience and luxury for any event or occasion. With impeccable design, top-notch features and uncompromising hygiene standards, these portable bathrooms elevate guest experiences to a new level of sophistication. Embrace the future of event rentals with personalized luxury and seamlessly integrate high-end portable bathrooms into your next gathering, ensuring an unforgettable and comfortable experience for all.

[kaleidodreams]

Heavenly Pearl's Fic Review 2022 - In The Closet

"In The Closet" was written for the Olympxxx event hosted by the 18OI server on Discord. (And, ha, it's rather appropriate that I'm posting this on the last day of this year's Grand Prix Final. Total coincidence!)

Summary: After they perform their duet version of “Stay Close To Me” at the Grand Prix Final exhibition gala, Yuuri gives Viktor a special surprise in a supply closet.

Thoughts: The Olympxxx event was a pretty interesting challenge! Everyone who participated was tasked with writing a sexy fic using at least three of five randomly given themes, and I got Stay Close To Me, Ice Adolescence, Costumes, Christophe Giacomeinme, and Living Legend as my five themes. Since I wanted to try my hand at writing a Victuuri fic for a change instead of my usual rare pairs, I went with Stay Close To Me, Costumes, and Living Legend as the themes to incorporate, which made it an easy choice to set the fic directly after their duet skate at the Grand Prix Final gala. I very much strongly headcanon Yuuri as a biromantic demisexual, so that's how I wrote him, deciding he was ready to experiment with having sex by giving Viktor a blowjob in a supply closet after they finished their performance. It was really important to me to make it clear that it was Yuuri's own decision, and that Viktor didn't pressure him in any way, and also that even though he does feel sexual attraction toward Viktor now that they've formed a strong bond, he still identifies as being on the asexual spectrum.

As for the actual smut, I think I did an okay job writing the blowjob? Not really my favorite sex act to write, to be honest, but I think it was probably my best attempt so far. My favorite part is probably right afterwards, when Viktor is shuffling around with his pants around his ankles to grab a paper towel for Yuuri. Such a hilarious image! I only received three comments on it, but with nearly a hundred kudos and over 1500 hits, I think it's safe to say that it was probably my most popular new fic this year, or at least tied with "Welcome To The Family", which has twice as many comments and almost as many kudos, but half as many hits.

[papermoonloveslucy]

LUCY AND THE CHINESE CURSE

S4;E18 ~ January 10, 1972

Directed by Coby Ruskin ~ Written by Martin A. Ragaway

Synopsis

When Lucy saves the life of a Chinese laundry owner (Keye Luke), she is obliged to take care of him for the rest of his life or face the curse of 4,000 ancestors.  Kim, Lucy, and Harry devise a plan to turn the tables on the man, who may be using the curse as a scheme to keep his laundry business afloat.

Regular Cast

Lucille Ball (Lucy Carter), Gale Gordon (Harrison Otis Carter), Lucie Arnaz (Kim Carter)

Guest Cast

Keye Luke (Quon Fong) was born in China in 1904.  He grew up in the United States and entered the film business as a graphic artist.  He made his acting debut in 1934 and is best remembered for playing Lee Chan (“number one son”) in the Charlie Chan movies of the 1930s starring Warner Oland. Shortly after this episode of “Here's Lucy,” he created the role of Master Po on TV's “Kung Fu” (1972-75).  He died in 1991. This is his only appearance with Lucille Ball.

Mary Jane Croft (Mary Jane) played Betty Ramsey during season six of “I Love Lucy. ” She also played Cynthia Harcourt in “Lucy is Envious” (ILL S3;E23) and Evelyn Bigsby in “Return Home from Europe” (ILL S5;E26). She played Audrey Simmons on “The Lucy Show” but when Lucy Carmichael moved to California, she played Mary Jane Lewis, the actor’s married name and the same one she uses on all 31 of her episodes of “Here’s Lucy. Her final acting credit was playing Midge Bowser on “Lucy Calls the President” (1977). She died in 1999 at the age of 83. 

Mary Jane is sporting a new hairstyle in this episode.

Tommy Farrell (Reporter) was on Broadway in three plays between 1942 and 1947. He was seen on “The Lucy Show” twice.  This is the third of his six episodes of “Here’s Lucy.”  

Walter Smith (Policeman) made 14 mostly uncredited appearances on the series. He also did one episode of “The Lucy Show.”  

Larry J. Blake (Sam) first appeared as a Native American Medicine Man in “Lucy the Rain Goddess” (TLS S4;E15). He was an ex-vaudevillian making the fifth of his eight “Here’s Lucy” appearances. 

Sid Gould (Fred) made more than 45 appearances on “The Lucy Show,” and nearly as many on “Here’s Lucy.” Gould (born Sydney Greenfader) was Lucille Ball’s cousin by marriage to Gary Morton.  In real life he was married to Vanda Barra (Sally).  

Vanda Barra (Sally) makes one of over two dozen appearances on “Here’s Lucy” as well as appearing in Ball’s two 1975 TV movies “Lucy Gets Lucky” (with Dean Martin) and “Three for Two” (with Jackie Gleason). She was seen in half a dozen episodes of “The Lucy Show.” Barra was married to Sid Gould (Fred) so is Lucille Ball’s cousin-in-law.

This is one of the few times to date that Sid Gould and Vanda Barra appear in the same scene together. The names Sam, Fred, and Sally are never used in the episode and only found in the closing credits.  

Shirley Anthony (Onlooker, uncredited) makes the fifth of her 13 episodes of “Here’s Lucy.”  

Sig Frohlich (Onlooker, uncredited) makes the fourth of his six uncredited background appearances on the series.

Monty O'Grady (Onlooker, uncredited) was first seen with Lucille Ball in The Long, Long Trailer (1953) and played a passenger on the S.S. Constitution in “Second Honeymoon” (ILL S5;E14). He was a traveler at the airport when “The Ricardos Go to Japan”(1959). He made more than a dozen appearances on “The Lucy Show” and a half dozen more on “Here’s Lucy.” This is his last time appearing with Lucille Ball.

The other onlookers and patrons of the laundry are played by uncredited background performers.

When the episode starts, Lucy has just saved Mr. Fong from being crushed by the falling safe, which presumably happened moments before. This saves Lucille Ball Productions (LBP) from staging the costly stunt of dropping the safe!  

When Mary Jane enters Lucy's office and says hello, Lucy knows who it is without looking up from her typewriter. When Mary Jane asks how she knew, Lucy says she didn't think it was Orson Welles. This is a joke about Mary Jane's high pitched, squeaky voice, compared with Welles' deep, mellow baritone. Orson Welles guest starred on “I Love Lucy” as himself in 1956.  

When Harry is forced to wear a clerical collar to work after dealing with Mr. Fong's laundry, Harry dubs him a “starch-happy Charlie Chan.” Keye Luke (Mr. Fong) played Charlie Chan's son in several movies of the 1930s and later took on the role of Chan himself. Harry also sometimes mimics Mary Jane's voice for the sake of a laugh.

Lucy's grocery bag has a roll of Gala II Paper Towels sticking out of it. Gala was a popular brand of paper towel advertised on TV with commercials by Tennessee Ernie Ford, who was a frequent guest star on the “Lucy” shows.

Sam (Larry J. Blake), who claims he saved Mr. Fong from drowning, cites an earthquake during the first week of February as a manifestation of the curse. In real-life, on February 9, 1971 a 6.7 earthquake caused extensive damage from the San Fernanado Valley to Los Angeles.

Harry wants to watch a boxing match on Lucy's TV between Kid Jacobs and Freddy the Fox. These are fictional boxers.

The stunt of swinging on the chandelier was repeated in Lucille Ball's ill-fated final sitcom “Life With Lucy.” Lucille Ball was 75 years old at the time.

Lucy went to work in disguise at a Chinese Laundry to pay off a debt in “Lucy, the Laundress” (S2;E17).

Mary Jane's iron-burned blouse was nothing new to Lucy viewers.  Ricky Ricardo scorched Lucy's blouse in a similar pattern in “Job Switching” (ILL S2;E1).  When Lucy Carter went to work at the Chinese Laundry in “Lucy, the Laundress” (S2;E17), she, too, also branded several shirts with the same mark.

Oops! When Harry quickly moves the chair out of the way of the television to watch the boxing match, the chair cushion flies off under the television set.

Say Again? The dialogue that takes place over the sound of the TV boxing match sounds very much like it was dubbed over in post-production.    

“Lucy and the Chinese Curse” rates 3 Paper Hearts out of 5

An interesting episode that manages to avoid any “yellow” racism (for the most part) while still being funny and original. 

[90skiyoomi]

priceless

rich!sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

sakusa kiyoomi, one of the wealthiest man, and his most prized possession.

fluff

a/n: no proofreading. i finishing writing this at 5:54am and i'm exhausted so i'm pretty sure it's quite messy but i hope you enjoy this!

sakusa kiyoomi isn't the kind of person to flaunt his wealth but from the way he dresses himself, and the way he does things, even the smallest thing like walking, you know that man is wealthy.

he isn't much of a spender when it comes to himself. he has, however, indulged in spending millions on a nice penthouse right in the middle of the bustling nyc. he owns one fancy matte black lamborghini but that's about how far he would go to spending on himself. maybe a few nice suits here and there for formal parties that his parents basically dragged him to, and galas to raise funds for charities, you won't see sakusa spending a lot.

unless it comes to you.

how you both met still astounds him (and you) till this day. you remember working at a small local cafe near your university to make some extra cash as allowance as you didn't want to burden your parents more financially, not after they paid for your degree fully with their hard earned money.

it's not like your family was poor. in fact, your parents make a decent amount of money to feed all the children in the house, having plenty of extra money laying around. but being the oldest, you've grown to be more independent than the rest of your siblings, lessening the burden on your parents whenever you can.

it was just a normal day at the cafe. as you wipe down the round wooden table and clearing all the cups that was left by the people that were just sitting here, you heard the bell ringing, signaling that a customer had just walked in.

"hi, welcome to cafe du monde," you greeted the tall man.

he must have been at least 6'2, you thought to yourself, as a shadow casted in front of you when he walked towards the counter.

you quickly took the basket with all the dirty cups behind the counter, washed your hands with soap and drying it with the paper towel nearby before making your way to the counter to take his order.

"one cafe au lait and a butter croissant please," his voice ringed in your ears.

you keyed in his order into the POS system.

"that would be $7. how would you like to pay?"

"by credit card," he chimed monotonously, handing you a centurion american express card.

you swiped his card and you handed him his card and a receipt.

"take a seat. i will bring your order over to you once it's ready!" you said, in your best "customer service" voice.

he nodded and walked to the furthest and quietest corner of the cafe.

you watched amusingly as this tall figure made his way to his seat, mentally slapping yourself for gawking at him like his your next meal before preparing his order.

you handed his coffee and pastry and he returned a quiet thank you, before going back to whatever he was doing on his phone.

little did you know, he was texting his cousin, komori, about this petite waitress (an exaggeration because has he seen how he towers over basically everything) that just served him and how he was internally freaking out, and how his heart skipped a beat when you accidentally brushed your finger against him when you pass him back his card.

and your smile.

what was this feeling? he thought.

sakusa was not only good-looking, he was so filthy rich that he had girls swarming him at every event he's been to. we're talking about girls that were so pretty that they could be runway models. so why did a regular waitress at a small local cafe managed to make him feel this way?

he was so lost in his thoughts that he lost track of time, not noticing how late it was. he finish the last sip of his coffee and made his way out, not forgetting to slip his number to you over the counter with a cheesy "hi, i think you're really pretty."

you ended your shift shortly after and decided to text him. i mean, a handsome man that seemed like he was molded by god himself gave you his number. it's as if you have just sturck the lottery, you thought.

"hey stranger"

sent.

you facepalmed yourself and cringed at the message that you just sent to him.

"hey you" your phone chimed a few seconds after.

that was the start of many conversations you both shared.

life works in a very funny way because 5 years later, the both of you were celebrating your 4th year anniversary.

remember how sakusa doesn't flaunt his wealth or even spend too much on himself?

throughout your entire relationship with him, you can count the amount of times you actually paid for things with just both your hands.

the number of times where he sneaks your wallet out of your already packed bag and place it somewhere high at the shared apartment (more like his apartment) so that he could pay for you because "you can't seemed to find your wallet anywhere"

the number of times where he basically dragged you into balenciaga and prada because "he wanted to check out some new collections" only for him to pick things out specifically and specifically for you.

the number of times where you tried to sneakily pay for the meal while he's in the washroom freshening himself up, only to find out that the bill has already been paid for.

his deceiving stoic look as you know how much of a softie he is when it comes to you.

he treats you with so much care, throwing some banters here and there as he teases you about how you should just be his personal housewife and go shopping with the sub-card that he gave you 1 year into your relationship and let him be the one working. you always laugh at his comment, saying how you can't just throw away your degree just so he can have an excuse to spend more money on you.

you can't say that you hate that he's pampering you this way, because you knew his love language was gift giving. it's just that you want to be able to pamper him too with your hard earned money (which you do, whenever you can).

"happy 4th year anniversary, baby" he coos, as he cut another piece of A5 miyazaki wagyu steak in a restaurant that he fully booked so that the both of you can enjoy your evening together.

"happy 4th anniversary, omi" you smiled.

sakusa kiyoomi doesn't flaunt his wealth but you were his prized possession.

and he would trade anything to be with you over and over again.

and he would do anything to be able to flaunt you to the whole world

[forunholy]

at first glance, the gala was harmless. another cash grab hidden by marketable terms like research and development. but hanbin was already naturally untrusting of anything in association with extra-ordinaries, and being in a room full of them had only left him on edge and burning with hatred. that he was one of them. in all of his loathing and contempt of those who'd deem themselves superheroes because of their abilities that defied human nature, he'd become one of them. one with powers, certainly not a hero though. his moral faults are only made clear by the blood, and the scene he'd left in the very bathroom he stood in. his only solace is that it didn't take him using his powers to know he was still as strong and capable.

it's understandable for any normal person to be uncomfortable seeing what he's done, figuring it was better than the alternative of anyone who fancied the idea of teaching him a lesson. his eyes flicker up to the woman in front of him, the sound of the faucet only partially masking the cries. "oh. thank you." it would be a shame for him to walk out of here with the consequences of his actions marked on very visible skin. "don't worry, i only hurt people that piss me off," he says frankly, an eyebrow raising at her choice to remain as far from him as possible. even his half-assed attempt to ease the tension isn't worth very much, but he's forced to step a foot closer to her to grab a paper towel. hanbin clears his throat, leaning his bloodied hand over to grab a piece before dabbing it on his neck.

bel was fine , she kept repeating. events like this were par for the course when she worked at cal tech , schmoozing donors and flirting her way into endowments to fund her research was easy then. wearing a dress like this ? normal. but she wasn't normal anymore , was she ? she could control the power of fucking stars and it terrified her every being. fear was an unknown to the former scientist , and now it seemed to be a corner stone of her being alongside her power. she thought coming to this gala would be exciting , but had underestimated how being surrounded by so many scientists and eos would get to her. so she did what any sane woman would do , made a choice to go to the restroom.

what she did not intend to do was walk into the men's room ? or was it ? bel's heeled feet still when she walks inside and see's someone washing their hands , blood clear as day to scream how it was not her business. gaze slips to the direction they gestured , eyebrow cocked at the whimpering simp of something in the stall. " right. " she replies , unsure of what to say here. was this a normal occurrence when this many extra ordinaries were put together ? " you've , uh , got a little bit of blood still on your neck. " she adds , because what else do you say ? the doctor ends her frozen moment and makes her way to a sink closer to the door , running her hands under the cool water to calm her own pulse.

[csainzsgirly]

Below Deck - [P.G.]

Gif credit to @/merrymissesmaxiel 

Synopsis: You’re a chief stewardess on a large yacht where Pierre and his friends spend a three-day charter. As you’re the chief stew, he has a reason to keep you around all the time and tell you everything he prefers. Below deck med vibes 100%.

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT (18+) - unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting. This is fiction and is not supposed to be taken as educational.

“Could Y/N, the chef, and the bosun please meet me in the crew mess for a preference sheet meeting?” The captain sounded over the radio, and you quickly copied, finishing the wiping of the table and heading downstairs to the crew mess. You shuffled into the boot, picking up the stapled papers. The chef and the bosun of the yacht joined soon after. “Alright, our new charter guests are a group of racing drivers from Europe. The primary’s name is Pierre Gasly, and he has taken four friends on this charter to escape the business of the Formula 1 paddock in the summer break of the 2022 season,” the captain summarized. “They look high-maintenance,” the chef muttered, his eyes skipping over the preferences of the guests with the food section. “They look quite alright,” you said, you had definitely seen more specific requests or the weirdest food requests. “Because they are athletes, they want fresh and healthy meals, filling portions. They’d like to work out on the boat and have all the water toys available all day. The primary requests a trip to the old town of Dubrovnik on day two, and a gala themed dinner that night,” you read out loud. “Well, let’s get to work,” the bosun replies. 

You were working in the interior of the yacht, and you made sure everything would look perfect by the time the guests were arriving. You and your two stewardesses had about four hours left. “So, who will be our new guests?” Your second stew asked while she was cleaning the windows in the lounge. “A Formula 1 driver and his racing driver friends, apparently,” you replied, putting your earpiece in again to be on standby for whoever needed you. “That better be a nice fucking tip,” she sighed, and you agreed. The mood in the yacht was a bit down, as the guests who left yesterday, after a four-day charter, were very demanding and complained a lot, and then left a shitty tip while everyone had worked so hard to meet their wishes. After cleaning, you went down to inspect the cabins, and the third stew had done them perfectly. Everything was in order for the guests to arrive. Everyone changed into their white, formal outfits to welcome them. You got the cold towels and the glasses of champagne ready, putting them on the table of the bridge deck. Lining up on the dock, the guests already arrived. 

“Good afternoon, and welcome on board of the Wellington. I’m your captain,” the captain introduced herself, shaking Pierre’s hand. “Nice to meet you, captain,” a smile showed up on his face that made you swallow hard. He stood in front of you next, his hand shaking yours. You introduced yourself with a kind smile, and he leaned forward to kiss your cheek. You hid your flusteredness as the other guests introduced themselves as well. “My chief stewardess, Y/N, will show you around, and a soon as your luggage is onboard, we’re off to our first anchorage,” the captain said. “Take your shoes off and follow me, please,” you smiled, stepping aboard of the yacht again, while the group of drivers followed you. The second and third stews handed out the champagne and the cold towels. “This is the main lounge of the yacht, with a dining room on the left. As the weather is beautiful, you will be having dinner outside on the bridge deck,” you told them. “It’s a gorgeous yacht,” Pierre speaks up. “For sure,” you reply, then taking them upstairs to the sun deck. “This is my favourite spot on the yacht. We have some room for work-outs here, and if you go down to the swim platform, all the water toys will be available for you,” you continued. “Do you spend a lot of time here?” Pierre asked, sipping on his champagne.

“Unfortunately not,” you laugh. “I’m running around all day, pleasing guests,” you add. “That sounds good,” he says, chuckling as your cheeks dust a little pink. “Let me take you to your cabins,” you clear your throat, hearing the guys speak in French to each other while walking down the stairs again. “This is the master,” you say, opening the door. “We have a bathtub on board, all marble,” you continue. “This is where the yacht magic happens,” Norman Nato says. “All the cleaning magic for sure,” you add, making them laugh. You show them the other cabins, and they can decide for themselves where they want to sleep, but Pierre has taken the master cabin as he’s the primary guests. You guided them back up to the sun deck. “We can unpack your suitcases if you prefer,” you started. “No, it’s fine, we can do that ourselves,” Pierre says, sitting down against the cushions of the lounger, the other guys take some pictures as the yacht is already moving to its first anchorage. “Alright, perfect. We can do lunch at 2:30 p.m.?” You suggest. “Yes, great,” Pierre smiles at you. “Can I get you anything else?” you ask, hoping your face isn’t heating up under the stare of his crystal eyes. 

“We’re fine at the moment, thank you so much,” he says, and you nod, rushing to get downstairs again. You update the chef about the lunchtime, so he can start preparing. The yacht soon reached its first anchorage, offering a beautiful view upon Dubrovnik. You made your way up to the deck again, checking up on the guests to see if they needed anything. “Y/N, are we allowed to go into the water now?” Pierre asked as soon as he saw you, the others were laying back on the cushions, some sill sipping on their champagne. “How polite as the primary,” you smiled, appreciating his tone. “Well, I can jump in, but if I’m not meant to, you’re probably going to be mad at me,” Pierre grinned, pushing a hand in the pockets of his white, linen pants, enjoying making you giggle. “No, you’re allowed. I’m sure the deck crew already has the jet ski’s out. You’re free to go down the platform, if you want to,” you said. “That sounds good. Are you joining?” Pierre shamelessly flirts. “Unfortunately, the water toys are not my specialty. How I about I keep serving drinks?” you reply. “If you insist,” Pierre gnawed at his lower lip. “Could you bring us a couple of bottles of water?” he asked. “Of course,” you nodded, turning around to get to the bar, kneeling to open the fridge and take five bottle of water out.

You put them on a plate to bring them over. They were easy going so far, and polite. Each of Pierre’s friends were nice to you so far. They handed you the champagne glasses, and you left them with the water. Not much later, the sun deck was empty, and you guessed they were in their cabins to get changed. You remained in the upper salon to make sure the bottles of liquor were restocked, and you could mix their drinks whenever they came back from being in the water. Your second and third stew were on their lunch breaks now, and the second stew would be on service with you, while the other would do the laundry in the pantry downstairs. The sounds of the jet-ski’s and other motorized water sport toys were audible, and you walked onto the sun deck to take a quick look at what they were doing. Three of the five were already in the water, and Pierre stood on the swim platform, listening to the bosun giving some instructions about staying close to the yacht and away from the shore. He looked as athletic as you thought he would be. His abs were mouthwatering, his biceps looking strong and firm, and his broad shoulders and neck were making you let out a dreamy sigh. You were quick to return to work, and set up the table for their lunch.

About an hour later, the lunch was ready to be plated, and the guys were just coming out of the water. Your service outfit existed of a crew shirt with a short skirt, a pair of flats. Your hair was up in a hair clip, a few strands framing your face. You moved around the table to pour in their glasses of water, serving some of them a glass of wine. “Did you enjoy being in the water?” you asked. “Yes, it was great,” one of Pierre’s friends replied, his name was Nadri, if your brain paid attention after Pierre introduced himself. “Great, you can go back down there after lunch as long as you want,” you said, before heading back inside and to the galley. The second stew picked up two plates, and you carried three to make sure you could serve everyone in one walk. “So, for your lunch we have a grilled sea bass served on a bed of mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus dusted with a bit of Croatian sea salt,” you announced after putting the plates down. “For your sides, we will bring you a mixed vegetable salad and extra mashed potato,” you continued. “I wish I could have you serving all my meals, it sounds like poetry if you describe it,” Pierre looked up at you with a cheeky smile, leaning back in his seat, still shirtless, his hair still wet. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you smiled, getting back inside to get the salad. “I think he fancies you,” your second stew whispered while you both walked inside again. “Shut up,” you said, giggling a little. “He’s hot, though,” you say. It would not be professional to cross the line of being nice and flirting with the guests, but Pierre was making it really hard for you. And he had been on the yacht for just three hours. You brought the salad and the mashed potatoes, asking if they needed anything else, and you made your way inside to leave them alone. After the lunch, you and your second stew cleared the table, while the guests went out to the sun deck to have a lazy hour in the sun. The weather was truly incredible, which made the work for the deck crew and the interior easier. If the weather would be bad, that meant they were relying on the interior and the chef, and in the worst case, the yacht would have to return to the port. But that wasn’t the case, which meant you could enjoy a shirtless Pierre Gasly for a little longer. “Hi guys,” you greeted them when stepping onto the sun deck. “Can I bring anyone a drink?” you asked. 

Three of them wanted a bloody mary, one just a glass of red wine, and Pierre asked for a vodka martini. You went to the bar to get their drinks done, and you nearly jumped when you turned around and saw Pierre standing at the bar. “I didn’t expect you here,” you laughed, brushing the few strands out of your face. “Can I do something for you?” you asked. “No, I’m fine. Just curious for your bartending magic,” he bares his teeth with another smile that makes your stomach do backflips in your body. “Well, I don’t want to brag, but I passed the barista course with straigth A’s,” you reply, sending a flirty smile back while shaking the mixer for the bloody marries, pouring it into three glasses with some ice. “I didn’t expect anything else,” Pierre grins, leaning his elbows on the counter. “Have you been to Croatia before?” you ask. “I haven’t, my career is quite demanding. I enjoy being at home,” he said, and you remember that he’s an F1 driver, he must be away from home nearly all the time. “What about you?” Pierre asked. “Oh, I worked nearly all the charters of my yachting career here at the Adriatic coast,” you say. “It’s a lovely area, and the food and culture here is great,” you add. “You have a lot of experience then?” he assumed.

“Six years and counting,” you proudly say, and he took his vodka martini you just mixed and poured in a glass. “I have some experience in keeping guests happy,” you say, putting the other glasses on a serving tray. “I can tell,” Pierre says, the accent laced in his words would make you crumble under his eyes, but you were professional. And not flirting with the guests. Pierre joined you when going outside, and you carefully kneeled on the cushions of the large lounging area to hand them their drinks. “At what time would you prefer to have dinner?” you asked, getting up when everyone had their drinks. “8:30-ish?” One of them suggested, the others confirming with a nod. “Alright, perfect,” you smiled. “Thank you, Y/N,” Pierre said, and you fought the urge to moan back at the way he ponounced your name, but you just smiled at him and went back inside. You had a break now, your second stew checked up on the guests and made sure they were all set. You heard over your radio that they went to work out, and the deck crew would be paying attention. You had some time to discuss the menu with the chef and think about the table decorating, and do some calls for the tour through Dubrovink old town tomorrow. They also wanted a gala themed dinner tomorrow night, and would send a stew tomorrow to get some more decorations for that. 

“I’m going down to the cabins, one of the guests asked if I could steam some clothing. Can you bring up some iced water?” your radio went, and you quickly finished your late lunch before heading upstairs. You filled a jug with icecubes and poured water over it, letting it sit for a minute while you cut some lime and cucumber, putting it in. You prepared yourself mentally, knowing they were good looking guys and now working out on the sun deck, probably shirtless. You took a serving tray with the jug and some glasses, easily hopping up the stairs. Pierre was on the tread mill, his skin glistening with sweat. You tried not to stare at his back muscles rippling under his skin with each move he made, but he caught your eyes when he turned his head and immediately slowed down the speed. “Hey, you’re back,” he smiled, choosing to either ignore or didn’t notice the look in your eyes. “I got you some iced water,” you said, putting the tray down on the small table. “I wanted to discuss something,” Pierre said, getting off the tread mill and taking a glass, which made you reach for the jug the same time as he did. You briefly looked at each other before he let you pour the water in his glass. “You wanted to discuss...?” you asked, and he stepped towards the balustrade of the deck, leaning against it. 

“Tomorrow we are going on this trip to Dubrovnik, right?” He asked, making you nod. “Can I request you come along? I am sure you have the most knowledge about the town,” Pierre said. “I asked one of my stews and a deckie to come along, they haven’t been off the boat since our charter season started,” you said, and he took a step forward. “Then you promise them they can go off the boat next time,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. The move made you burn up from the inside, and you laughed. “You should have put it on your preference sheet before you came onboard,” you reply teasingly. “How could I know there is such a lovely chief stew?” Pierre replied, leaning his elbow on the balustrade as he came even closer. “Alright, I’ll join you and have one of the deck crew for the tour tomorrow,” you gave in. “Amazing. I was also thinking we could do a lunch there. Is there a nice view point somewhere?” Pierre asked. “Yes, there is. Would you like us to set up lunch there or have me make a reservation at a restaurant?” you asked. “If you could set it all up, that would be perfect. The lunch was amazing. I trust the chef to get more outstanding meals out of that kitchen,” Pierre said. “Got it,” you replied. “I will make sure everything is as you wish,” you reply. “I’m sure you will,” he flirts. 

You shot him a smile before heading inside, and his eyes drift over the flirty ends of your little skirt as you move around the corner. “Bro, you have to make it less obvious,” Nadri says, having a glass of the iced water you brought. “What? She’s nice, pretty,” Pierre shrugged. “You can’t put her job in jeopardy,” Nadri chuckled, he had seen the way his friend was flirting with the chief stew, and he had made some comments about how hot you were to his friends already. “I’m not, I’m staying within the lines. Besides, she flirts back,” Pierre defended. “I’d laugh my ass off if she’s just being nice. I mean, she’s used to flirty charter guests,” Nadri chuckled, making Pierre roll his eyes at his friend, nevertheless with a grin. They continued working out and being in the water till they all went into their cabins to get showered and dressed for dinner. You and your stews set up the table for the dinner, while the chef was already busy to prepare dinner. You kept your eyes on the set table, seeing a couple of them seated already. You told the chef to start plating when everyone was seated, and your water and wine service was finished. Each of the stews were dressed into the evening service dresses, and your hair was now braided down your back. 

You had felt quite relaxed this afternoon, they weren’t too demanding and they weren’t picky or anything. You hoped they wouldn’t stay up too late, but seeing they were sporty, you hoped they were appreciating sleep and went to bed early, because that means you can get more hours in as well. You walked back to the galley and took three plates to serve the starter. The dinner service is as easy as the lunch, and they are happy with the meals. The drinks are flowing nicely, and you see them all loosening up even more. One of them request to have some music playing, and Pierre gets his phone connect to one of the speakers. Soon, Spanish music blasted across the deck, and it got the whole dinner service more swinging. You hadn’t been stiff with them, but even you felt more relaxed, easily twirling around the table and refilling glasses or serving new mixed drinks. They were all enjoying it, and it made everyone on service act along, because the better their experience, the better the payday at the end of the charter. You took away the plates from the desert when the guests were up from the table, standing on the deck. “Can’t you join us for a little party?” One of them asked, meaning the whole crew. “Some of us are already in bed,” you replied. “But you aren’t, and C/N either,” Nadri said. “Bring the bottle of rosé and we’re good for a while, you’ll have time to dance with us,” he said. “Fine,” you gave in with a smile.

You refilled their glasses with rosé, and you put the bottle back in the fridge. The deck crew who weren’t on anchor watch also joined, making everyone laugh with the worst dance moves. Pierre took your hand to spin you around, pulling you to his chest then. “Is this okay?” he asked, his hot breath ghosting over your face. “It’s alright,” you replied, not sure where to place your hands, but it would look too awkward to leave them by your sides, so you just rested them on his shoulders. “The dinner was amazing,” he told you. “I’m glad to hear so,” you replied, looking at the others who weren’t watching you at all. It made you relax a little more, your skin heating up under your team dress as his hand drifted down to your lower back, holding you close. Your hips were basically grinding together on the filthy, Spanish music that was blasting through the speakers. If you were in a club, you would have smashed your lips on his already, but you were just doing your job and he was just a guests on the yacht. “Is this made for you?” Pierre asked, tugging gently on the material of your black dress. “No, it’s not,” you laugh. “It looks like it though, you look gorgeous in it,” he flirts. “It’s just working clothes,” you reply, looking up at him. 

Pierre looks incredibly good with the dark blue button up that is slightly undone, a golden cross necklace hanging down his neck. “So, you’re saying you’re even more beautiful in anything else?” he teases, grinning as your cheeks heat up. “That’s what you’re implying,” you reply. “I have to get back to work,” you say then, a smile on your lips as he’s so hot and adorable at the same time. The way he looks at you makes you want to drop to your knees and unbuckle his belt, but the way he speaks to you with delicasy makes your heart palpitate faster. “I understand,” Pierre said, and you gasped softly when he pulled you even closer, his other arm curling around you for a gentle embrace. “I look forward to tomorrow,” he said when withdrawing from you, stepping back to give you your space. “Goodnight, Pierre,” you smiled, taking his empty glass to get back inside. The others went back to work soon after as well, but they already turned down the music and had a last drink before all the guests slowly seeped into their cabins. You were glad the party was over, it was past midnight, and you could quickly clean up and prepare some things for the breakfast service before heading down too. 

        Because you had the late shift, your second and third stew got the breakfast service shift. You woke up around nine, you showered, got dressed and some of the breakfast left overs before heading down to the cabins. You checked with the stews if everyone was up at the table our out in the water, so you could change the sheets and clean the cabins without disturbing them. You hummed a song that was stuck in your head since last night, folding the sheets of the bed and tucking them in. You cleaned the bathroom, replaced the bags in the bins, and folded clean towels into the racks. You entered the master cabin, and you thought you heard someone walking around. “Is anyone here?” You asked, not sure if you just imagined it or if it was outside, as the windows were opened. You didn’t get a response, so you just continued your work. The bed of the master cabin was larger, and mattress cover was quite tight. You huffed while stretching it across, hoping the other end wouldn’t flip back. “I missed you during breakfast this morning,” you suddenly heard, making you shriek and nearly stumble over your own feet. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I thought you were still at breakfast, I wouldn’t have come in if I knew you were here,” you rambled, your cheeks turning bright red. 

You swallowed hard as Pierre stood in front of you, just a towel around his hips, his abs begging for your eyes on them, his hair messy and still dripping, the view droplets of water on his chest making you fight the urge to lick them right off. “No worries, it’s alright. I could have mentioned to your colleagues that I went to shower. It’s not your fault,” he assured you. “Okay,” you huffed, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, not aware you were sweating till now. “I will get out and come back in when you’re out,” you said, a small laugh escaping your mouth. “No, it’s fine, continue, I will get dressed in the bathroom and not disturb you,” Pierre said, reaching for some shorts and beige button-up from the closet. “Normally it’s the other way around, you know?” you chuckled, biting at your bottom lip while reaching for the clean sheets, putting them around the duvet. “I’m easy going,” he grinned, disappearing into the bathroom. You took a deep breath to calm down your raging heart beat, and did an attempt to stop your panties from getting wet, but holy shit, this man is so hot, effortlessly. You shook it off, hurrying to tuck the sheets in and fold the edge, putting the pillows back on. You wiped down the nightstands, the marble counter, not daring move any closer to the door of the bathroom. You took your cleaning stuff and walked out without a word, closing the door behind you, feeling like you could finally breathe.

There was this tension between you and the primary charter guest that made you want to sin in all unholy ways possible. It’s like he didn’t even try to hide that he was flirting with you, and who showers after breakfast, on a yacht? You put the cleaning stuff away, making your way to your cabin to freshen up a little. You had to head up to the galley to speak through the preparation of the view point picknick in Dubrovnik, which meant that the chef had to prepare a lot of plates, and the timing of bringing the food there had to be perfect, because not everything could be plated for a long time. You set up the coolers already, and gave some instructions to your crew, while the bosun did the same for her crew, who were setting up the picknick table, parasols, and bringing it up there. You looked forward to be off the boat for half a day, and as you loved Dubrovnik, you liked to be the tour guide of the day. The tender was ready next to the yacht, and you updated the stews quickly that only the bathroom in the master cabin had to be cleaned, because you were interupted due to obvious reasons. The guests were brought ashore by the tender, and you and a deckhand followed to guide them through the town. Dubrovnik is truly gorgeous, and you were sure they were going to like it. 

You didn’t think they’d love a cultural trip, but all of the guys were taking pictures and actually listening to what you were telling about the buildings and some streets and restaurants. They even wanted to take a picture with you and the deckie who guided the trip, asking someone else to take the picture. You squeezed in between Pierre and one of his friends, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. Every touch and every look made you want him more, and the fact that it seemed to be mutual didn’t make it easier to control your horniness. You were on the boat all summer already, you never slept with any other crew, and you hadn’t been fucked well in too long. Dramatic maybe, but Pierre just made you long for it. You were keeping your professional distance throughout the day, serving the lunch on a beautiful view point. They praised the crew all the time for their hard work of making this happen, and it had been a tonne of work, but if it puts a smile on the face of the guests, nobody complains. When they finished the lunch, everything was broken down to get it downstairs again. Pierre and his friends wanted to go back to the boat to enjoy more time in the water, which was possible after the yacht went to its second anchorage near Split. It would take the yacht about five hours to get there. There was enough time left, for them to get on the jet-ski’s before dinner. 

Everyone was back on the boat, and soon the deck crew started hauling anchor to get the trip started. “I assume you’ve been in Split before?” Pierre started while you refilled their glasses of wine. “I have,” you smile. “The whole coastline of Croatia is actually really stunning,” you added. “Have you been outside of Croatia on a yacht?” he asked, taking a glass from you, and you ignored it as your fingers brushed together. “I have done a couple of charters in Spain and Italy, and one time during the Monaco Grand Prix, actually,” you said. “Oh, really? I would have remembered you if I had seen you there,” Pierre grinned. “Well, I was caught up in work and serving margaritas to a group of old millionairs, so I didn’t get off the yacht all night,” you chuckled. “That’s a shame,” Pierre replied. “I will get back in a few if you need anything,” you smiled at them before leaving. You had a quick break before repeating the schedule of yesterday. As the dinner was gala themed, you and a stew made up the table on the bridge deck aft in a classy style. Everyone on dinner service was getting dressed up too, as you and your second stew had long gala dresses and Venetian masks. You placed five more masks on the table for the guests to put on. They were all at the table on time, and dressed up in tuxedo’s, and you had to admit you couldn’t wait to see Pierre from up close.

You followed the other stew with a bottle of wine, filling the glasses next to the water. “Wow, this is amazing,” Pierre complimented the interior on their hard work on the table and the gala themed dinner. “Can I take a picture of the two of you?” he asked, meaning you and the second stew. “Of course,” you said, adjusting the mask and holding up the bottle of wine while taking a cute pose with the other stew. Pierre thinks you look absolutely stunning with the sleek, black dress, and he finds his eyes following you when you walk around the table and get back inside. It doesn’t take long before you’re appearing again, carrying three plates with ease while putting them down, your colleague following to put down the others. He looked up at you when you told them what the chef had cooked for the starter, but he wasn’t even paying attention. Because of this yacht, while it was a huge vessel, it was still a small space to be in with a lot of people, and he felt this attraction that made him wish this charter lasted forever. He smiled at you when your eyes briefly darted over his. The dinner was delicious, everything that was served went beyond their expectations, the crew outdid themselves to make sure everything was perfect. 

You were so nice, naturally flirtatious, and he loved the sound of your laugh as you spoke to one of his friends, bending over a little to refill the glass of wine. Pierre’s eyes darted to your cleavage, hands tingling to let your perfect tits spill over the material, to unzip your dress and finally see what you were wearing under those cute skirts you had been wearing yesterday and this morning. The rest of the evening went smoothly. You had stretched out the dinner quite well, but some of the guys preferred to go to bed early. You already told the second stew she could go to bed, and as soon as you were sure they didn’t want anything else to eat, the chef could get to bed too. You were the only one up, with probably one or two of the deckies on anchor watch, but they were up in the bridge anyway. Soon enough, only Pierre was up. “Can I get you a refill?” you asked kindly, taking away the rest of the glasses. “No, it’s fine. I’m just hanging around,” Pierre said. “Alright,” you smiled. “You are the only up, actually. Do you mind if I do a quick vacuuming in the main salon?” you asked. “Absolutely not, do your thing,” he said, and you nodded. You felt a little awkward while starting the vacuum cleaner, but he really didn’t seem to mind. 

You cleaned the carpet quickly, and then put the vacuum cleaner away. You sprayed the table with some cleaning product, wiping it down. “Can I do anything for you?” you asked, nearly begging him to just ask you to make another drink for him, anything, just so you could stop feeling hot and bothered under his stare. “There is something, but...” Pierre says, approaching you. “It’s inappropriate,” he says, and you look up at him, not taking any steps back. “Is it?” you hum, making him nod. You suck in a harsh breath when his hand moves to wrap around your waist. “Pierre...” you whine, not able to resist his lips brushing over your cheek, pressing lightly to your jaw before trailing down to your neck. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin seeping through the button-up of the tuxedo. “I’m going to get fired for this,” you mutter, meanwhile doing no attempt to push him back. Instead, he draw you in closer, grabbing your waist a little firmer, pushing you up against his delicious body. “Good, then you can finally get off this boat and get in my garage instead,” Pierre replied, making you look at him with a chuckle.

“Tell me you want this,” he commands, and your eyes almost fall closed when his lips brush over yours. “Fuck, I want it,” you blurt out, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to finally kiss you. He moans against your lips as soon as they’re connected, sending a shiver up your spine. “Are we the only ones up?” he mutters against your lips. “We are,” you whisper back. “My crew can’t know about this,” you add. “Nobody has to know,” Pierre says, taking a bite of your lower lip before slipping his tongue in your mouth, licking at yours before exploring further. “Let’s head down to your cabin,” you hum, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your lower back way too much, but you have to move to get out of the main salon and risk being caught here. “The best thing I’ve heard so far,” Pierre sighs, his hand swatting your ass when you walked in front of him. You grinned, quickly making your way the small stairs to get to the master cabin. “You totally knew I was cleaning your cabin this morning,” you breathed against his lips when the door fell closed behind him, and he had you pushed up against his body already. “I did,” Pierre admitted immediately. “Just needed to see you in that sexy, little skirt,” he grins, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress at the same moment you started to unbutton his shirt. 

You nearly rip the buttons off with eagerness, and Pierre only takes his hands off you to shrug his arms out of the sleeves. You moan at the sight of him, running your hands up his abdomen, his pecs, to his shoulders. He shivers under your touch, the way you admire his body boosting his ego. Pierre roughly takes the zipper of your dress down, letting the material fall down your body. “Knew you had fucking pretty tits,” he praises, his large hands cupping your tits as his lips covered yours again, touching you up, rolling his fingers over your nipples. Your hands fumbled with his belt, undoing the leather that held his slacks on his hips. You unzipped the slacks, moaning and whimpering when he started to kiss down your neck. Your knees nearly buckled as he groaned back when you started to palm him. You were so eager to see his cock, to suck it, jerk it, have it inside you. You gasped when his hand fisted into your hair, forcing you down to your knees. “I know you get off on praise, ma cherié, and I think I’ve praised you enough,” Pierre purrs. “You probably like to be fucked like a slut, don’t you?” he asks, making your pussy clench around thin air, your wetness seeping through the fabric of your thong. “Use your words, darling,” he ushers. “Fuck, I do,” you breathe. 

“I knew you were a little whore under that friendly, pretty girl attitude,” Pierre takes his cock out with his other hand, jerking it right in front of your face. Your mouth waters at the sight, it’s thick, veiny, the perfect length. You whine softly, eager to get it in your mouth. “You want to suck me off like the slut you are?” he asked, and you nod. “Open your mouth for me,” he commands, the head of his cock tapping against your lower lip to make you open up. You gladly spread your lips, lifting a hand to guide him further down your tongue. You moan around him, loving the heavy feeling of his cock as you start sucking it. He grunts lowly, watching you lick the under side, running your tongue down the side of his shaft to get it properly wet. Your hand moved along with your mouth, bobbing up and down. It soon turned to a filthy, wet blow job, and Pierre loved everything about it. He got off on the smacking sounds of your lips, the noises that escaped you were so lovely, and he groaned each time you gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Your tongue felt like velvet against him, swirling around the head and briefly letting him go with a pop as your hand jerked him. “That’s it, gorgeous,” he moans, his abdomen clenching as you slide your tongue over him again. 

You whimper as you taste the salty pre-cum on your tongue, and your head bobs up and down faster, your hand squeezes him a little harder, the other rolling his balls in your palm, craving the thick, white substance in the back of your throat, but Pierre had other plans. “Fuck, baby. I want to cum in that sweet pussy of yours,” he growls, making the wetness pool in your panties. “Let me get a taste,” he mutters, pulling you up from the floor and throwing you back on the bed, the bounce of the mattress making you giggle a little. Pierre kicks his jeans off his ankles, getting on the bed with you, throwing some pillows to the floor. “Been wanting to ruin these bedsheets since you made the bed so nicely this morning,” his voice rasped, his hands sliding over your legs to meet the waistline of your thong. “Need you to make me cum,” you whine. “Oh, I will,” Pierre replies. “Gonna make sure your crew has to wash your cum out of the sheets tomorrow morning,” he said, a devilish smirk on his face that made your eyes roll back already. You lift your hips as he hooks his fingers in your thong and drags it up your legs, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Pierre pushes your thighs apart, spreading you open for him, groaning at the sight of your glistening pussy.

“Already so wet from just sucking me off?” He tuts, looking into your innocent eyes. “Seems like I was right about you being a slut,” he mutters, earning a moan from you when his hands run over your inner thighs. Without a warning, his head buries between your legs and his tongue covers your mound, licking from your hole to your clit in a thick stripe that as your back arching and your toes curling. Pierre’s mouth on your pussy has you gripping the sheets within the first few minutes, the coil in your lower abdomen thickening with each swirl of his tongue over your clit. He sucks the little nub of nerve endings into his mouth, and you curse under your breath as he grazes his teeth over it. Your fingers tangle in his hair, messing it up further as he eats you out so deliciously. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, and you squeal when he places his hands behind the back of your knees and pushing them towards your chest. His tongue teases your hole, dipping in before rolling over your swollen clit again. Your clasp a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from becoming too loud, but he eats you so well, and the slurping noises don’t help to hold your self-control. You cum hot and heavy, and he groans as he tastes your juices on his tongue. 

“Shit, Pierre, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, profanities and his name mixing on your tongue as he continues to suck on your clit, two of his fingers swirling around your hole before sliding knuckle deep in your pussy. He makes you feel incredible, and he drops your legs again to place a hand over your lower abdomen, offering some pressure. You gather all your strength to lean up on your elbows, watching him as he eats your pussy with passion you can feel in your core. His fingers curl up against your g-spot, and you feel another orgasm building up, but it comes from deeply inside. You’re nearly unable to control your feelings, and you’re almost scared to come undome, but his mouth lifts from your pussy and he kisses your inner thighs. “Come on, cum for me, mon ange.” You relax again, giving into a pleasure you’ve rarely felt before, and you push a pillow over your face while you cum on his fingers and tongue again. “Shit, you’re so hot,” Pierre moans, sitting up as you squirt over his fingers, staining the bedsheets as he predicted. “Oh my god,” you breathe, your legs trembling and you need a minute to come down. “That’s a good girl,” he praises, kissing up your body. “Get on your hands and knees,” he growls, jerking his cock a couple of times while you turn around, your brain fogged by the orgasm he just gave you. You lean on your elbows and knees, your head down. 

Pierre’s hand comforting rubs up your spine, but the sweet moment lasts shortly as he spanks your ass next, making your toes curl and your pussy clench. You moan as you feel the head of his cock sliding into your pussy, and your fingers grab onto the sheets again when he’s fully in. The stretch is absolutely delicious, and you can tell you’re dripping wet around him as he groans at the feeling of your wet cunt. “You’re so fucking tight for me, ma belle,” Pierre grunts. “You feel me deep inside you?” he hums, tilting your hips a little. His hand slowly moves into your hair from the back of your neck, twisting your strands a little and lifting your head slightly, making you moan while he didn’t start thrusting yet. He left you waiting a little longer, his hands then slotting around your hips, grabbing you with a bruising grip as he starts to fuck you. His strokes are long, fluid, and angled at the right spot. You were a moaning mess barely a minute into him fucking you, but you didn’t care at all. “Fuck, this pussy feels as sweet as it tastes,” he gritts through his teeth, snapping his hips forward a little harder. He could praise you into the heavens or call you a slut, a whore, you didn’t care, you just wanted him to make you cum on his dick. You clench him tightly, you’re so aroused, so wet.

The head of his cock rakes over the sensitive spots inside your body, and you’re the brink of another release. Pierre looks down at his cock sliding in and out of you, watching his shaft being covered with your slick. Your ass bounces each time he thrusts into you, your back arches a little more. “Pierre...” you whine, dragging out his name so beautifully, it’s music to his ears. “F-fuck, I’m gonna-... God, I’m gonna cum again,” you slur, and you slump down to the mattress, nearly unable to hold yourself up. He easily pushes you to your side, one hand on your lower back while the other holds your thighs. Pierre slows down his thrust, feeling you cum around his cock. Your breath is uneven, your eyes are closed, bathing in the feeling of absolute bliss. Pierre picks up his pace again, and you drift into another state of mind, reaching for his hand that holds onto your thigh, pulling him closer. He opens your legs without pulling out, wrapping them around his waist. His elbows plant next to your head, his abs tightening as he fucks you deeply. Your teeth bite into his shoulder, your nails rake down his back while your legs curl around him tighter. Your heart is thumping against your rib cage, you near that white hot pleasure of your fourth orgasm. You’re both sweaty, his hair is slightly damp. His mouth is on yours, swallowing your moans. His pace didn’t falter again, chasing both of your orgasms this time. 

You moans sound so sweet, and you feel so good around him. “Cum in me,” you breathe against his lips. “Say it again,” Pierre’s voice rasps. “Give me your cum,” you whimper, slotting your fingers around his biceps, holding on for dear life. The coil in your lower abdomen snaps, and the clenching of your pussy makes him cum deeply inside you. He throbs, shooting thick ropes of cum against your walls, prolonging your orgasm. You tremble under him, biting your lower lip to not scream. “Fuck,” Pierre curses, not pulling out of you yet. He lifts himself up a little more, giving you more space. You pull him down again instead, your lips connecting in a delicious kiss again. You can feel your body becoming sore already, and you whine as he shifts in his position, dropping your legs to the bed. “Gonna let me clean you up?” Pierre mutters against your lips, and you noded, resting back against the sheets of the bed while he went to the bathroom and get a wet towel. He cleaned your thighs and your pussy, helping you up so you could go to the toilet. When you came back, he was under the thin duvet of the bed already, and you scoffed at seeing the wet spot. “We should have placed a towel on it,” you say. “I wasn’t sure if I could make you squirt,” he replied with a grin. “You were,” you slap his chest when you reach for your panties on the floor.

You take your dress to put it on again. “You’re not staying?” He asks, leaning up. “I can’t stay, I have to work tomorrow morning, on this boat, in case you didn’t know,” you giggle. “Can’t you just sleep here?” Pierre said, pulling on your wrist to pull you onto the bed. “Nobody can know I was in here,” you whisper with a laugh. “I already broke the rules,” you whine. “I’ll get back to my cabin and see you again tomorrow, okay?” you say. “Hmm, alright,” Pierre gave in, getting up as you hastily put your dress on again, slipping into your flats. You were a little wobbly, and you couldn’t wait to get in bed and sleep. He pulls you close before you could leave, his hands squeezing your ass as he kisses you. “Sleep well, Pierre,” you say softly. “Goodnight, mon coeur,” he bites at his bottom lip as you quietly leave his cabbin.