#affordable hotels in st. louis

[stlouiswestend]

Discover Affordable Luxury at The West End Hotel in St. Louis

St. Louis is a city that offers something for everyone—from world-class attractions to a rich cultural scene. When visiting this dynamic city, one of the most important decisions is selecting the right hotel. The West End Hotel stands out as a premier choice, offering the perfect balance of luxury and affordability. Nestled in the vibrant Central West End, The West End is one of the best hotels in St. Louis, providing guests with a sophisticated stay without the steep price tag typically associated with upscale accommodations.

Whether you’re in town for a business trip, vacation, or special event, The West End offers everything you need for a memorable stay. Let’s dive into why this hotel should be at the top of your list when considering affordable hotels in St. Louis.

Affordable Luxury Without Compromise

When it comes to booking a hotel in St. Louis, you don’t have to choose between luxury and affordability. The West End Hotel is one of the luxury hotels in St. Louis that manages to deliver a top-tier experience at a competitive price. As you step into the grand lobby, you'll be greeted by a harmonious mix of modern design and classic charm, making for a welcoming and stylish atmosphere.

The hotel’s rooms are meticulously designed with your comfort in mind. Each room is outfitted with plush bedding, elegant furnishings, and high-end amenities, ensuring that every guest can indulge in a restful and rejuvenating stay. Whether you’re visiting for business or leisure, The West End makes it easy to enjoy a luxurious experience without the extravagant price.

The Best Hotels in St. Louis: Service and Comfort That Exceed Expectations

When searching for the best hotels in St. Louis, it’s essential to find more than just a place to sleep. The West End goes above and beyond to ensure that your stay is an experience, not just a visit. The spacious rooms offer stunning views of the St. Louis skyline through large windows, adding a touch of tranquility to your stay.

Service at The West End is another reason it stands out from other affordable hotels in St. Louis. The hotel staff is dedicated to offering personalized, attentive service, ensuring that every guest feels like a VIP. From the concierge providing local recommendations to housekeeping maintaining your room to perfection, every detail is handled with care and professionalism.

A Prime Location in the Central West End

When you choose hotels in the Central West End, the location is everything—and The West End is perfectly positioned to make the most of this sought-after neighborhood. Known for its mix of modernity and historic charm, the Central West End is one of the most exciting areas of St. Louis. You’ll find an array of dining, shopping, and entertainment options right at your doorstep.

The hotel’s location also places you within easy reach of museums, galleries, and cultural landmarks. If you’re a history enthusiast or an art lover, you’ll appreciate the nearby attractions. The Central West End also offers some of the best dining experiences in the city, with a diverse selection of restaurants that cater to every palate.

Outstanding Dining and Wellness Offerings

One of the highlights of The West End is its impressive array of amenities designed to enhance your stay. For food lovers, the hotel offers multiple dining options, from gourmet meals in an upscale restaurant to casual dining for those seeking a more relaxed atmosphere. Whatever your culinary preferences may be, you’ll find a satisfying meal at The West End.

The hotel also features a luxurious spa and wellness center, offering a variety of treatments that help guests unwind and recharge. After a day of sightseeing or business meetings, treat yourself to a massage, facial, or body treatment that will leave you feeling rejuvenated.

If staying active is important to you, The West End’s fitness center is equipped with state-of-the-art exercise equipment, and the sauna and pool provide perfect spaces to relax and unwind.

Immerse Yourself in St. Louis' Culture

Staying at The West End allows you to immerse yourself in the rich culture of St. Louis. The hotel is situated in close proximity to local attractions, including parks, art galleries, and historical sites. Whether you’re exploring the Missouri Botanical Garden, attending a performance at the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, or wandering through the streets filled with architectural beauty, The West End offers an ideal starting point for discovering the best of the city.

For foodies, the Central West End’s diverse dining options provide plenty of opportunities to sample local flavors. With so many unique eateries just a short walk away, you’ll never run out of new dining experiences to try.

Personalized Service and Attention to Detail

What truly sets The West End apart from other luxury hotels in St. Louis is its exceptional service and attention to detail. From the moment you arrive, the hotel staff is committed to ensuring your stay is seamless and enjoyable. Whether you have special requests for your room or need help planning your day, the team is always happy to assist.

Every aspect of your stay at The West End is designed with care and thoughtfulness, from the plush bathrobes and slippers in your room to the nightly turndown service. These little touches add up, making your stay more memorable and unique.

Conclusion: Why The West End is the Ideal Choice for Your St. Louis Stay

When looking for the best hotels in St. Louis, The West End Hotel offers the ideal combination of luxury, affordability, and service. Its prime location in the Central West End, outstanding amenities, and thoughtful design make it the perfect place to stay during your visit to the city.

Whether you’re visiting St. Louis for business, a family vacation, or a romantic getaway, The West End provides everything you need for an unforgettable experience. Don’t settle for less when you can enjoy the best. Book your stay today and experience one of the best luxury hotels in St. Louis, offering the perfect blend of comfort, elegance, and affordability.

[tenmillionthfirefly]

My Lackadaisy OC Atlanta!

Her card reads:

Born: November 11, 1894 Atlanta, Georgia

Named after her birthplace, Atlanta carries the heritage of her Puerto Rican parents with her Spanglish-speaking tongue. Her 32 years have seen her live in a variety of places—Puerto Rico, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, the Carolinas, Mississippi, Tennessee, and New York—before her journey brought her to the bustling streets of St. Louis. Atlanta diligently works at the Maribel Hotel, washing laundry with her meticulous touch. Despite that, her heart remains untainted by the illicit activities the hotel is known to host. As a devout minister, Atlanta’s true calling lies far from the underworld’s reach. Atlanta views St. Louis as a fleeting chapter in her life’s story, since she hopes to travel abroad as a missionary as soon as she can afford it.

Atlanta is currently preoccupied with folding laundry, navigating a xenophobic world, studying the Bible, singing, stretching a dime, using her charisma to get her way, and preaching.

[sbcwiresort]

Affordable Sea View Hotels in St. Martin: Hidden Gems for Budget Travelers

St. Martin is a dazzling Caribbean island that draws in tourists from all over the world. Known for its crystal-clear waters, pristine beaches, and vibrant culture, the island offers a variety of accommodations to suit all types of travelers. While luxury hotels may steal the spotlight, budget-conscious travelers need not worry. St. Martin is home to many affordable sea view hotels that offer breathtaking views without breaking the bank. Whether you're looking for a romantic getaway or a family vacation, these hidden gems will make your trip to St. Martin unforgettable.

Sapphire Beach Club Resort

When it comes to affordable sea view hotels in St. Martin, the Sapphire Beach Club Resort stands out as a top contender. Located on the Dutch side of the island, this resort offers panoramic views of the Caribbean Sea, comfortable accommodations, and a peaceful atmosphere at a reasonable price.

The resort features spacious rooms with private balconies, giving guests the chance to wake up to the sound of the ocean and stunning sunsets. With its modern amenities, such as a pool, spa, and beachfront access, Sapphire Beach Club Resort provides everything you need for a relaxing island retreat.

What makes this resort particularly appealing for budget travelers is its combination of affordability and prime location. Positioned near several popular attractions, including Mullet Bay Beach and Cupecoy Beach, it allows guests to explore the best of St. Martin without spending too much on accommodations. Whether you’re traveling as a couple or with family, Sapphire Beach Club Resort offers excellent value for those seeking a sea view hotel that doesn't compromise on comfort or location.

Bleu Emeraude Hotel

For those who prefer a more intimate setting, Bleu Emeraude Hotel is a charming boutique hotel located on the French side of the island. This oceanfront property provides direct access to the white sandy beach of Grand Case, one of St. Martin's most scenic locations.

Bleu Emeraude is known for its laid-back vibe and warm hospitality, making it perfect for budget travelers seeking a peaceful retreat. Each room features a balcony or terrace with a breathtaking sea view, allowing guests to unwind in tranquility. While it may not have the extensive amenities of larger resorts, the hotel offers free breakfast and kitchenette facilities, making it easy for guests to save on dining costs.

One of the best aspects of Bleu Emeraude is its proximity to Grand Case, often referred to as the "Gourmet Capital of the Caribbean." This allows travelers to explore the town’s vibrant culinary scene while staying within a budget.

Le Beach Hotel

Another hidden gem on the French side of St. Martin is Le Beach Hotel. This mid-range hotel offers stunning sea views at a price that won’t break the bank. Located near Marigot, the island's capital, Le Beach Hotel provides easy access to both the beach and the charming streets filled with French boutiques, cafés, and local markets.

The rooms are elegantly furnished and include private balconies overlooking the ocean. While it’s an affordable option, the hotel does not skimp on quality, offering an outdoor pool, restaurant, and bar. For travelers looking to explore the island's French culture while sticking to a budget, Le Beach Hotel offers the perfect solution.

Its central location makes it easy to explore nearby attractions, such as Fort Louis and the Marina Royale while enjoying the beauty of the surrounding sea.

Horizon View Beach Hotel

Horizon View Beach Hotel is a fantastic option for budget travelers who want to be in the heart of the action. Situated in Philipsburg on the Dutch side, this hotel offers direct access to Great Bay Beach and is within walking distance of the town's shops, restaurants, and nightlife.

The hotel features simple yet comfortable rooms with stunning ocean views. Each room is equipped with kitchenettes, making it easy for guests to prepare meals and save on dining expenses.

What makes Horizon View Beach Hotel particularly appealing is its central location. Guests can explore Philipsburg's bustling Front Street, known for duty-free shopping, while still enjoying the tranquility of beachfront accommodation. Despite its prime location, the hotel remains affordable, making it a great option for those who want to experience the vibrancy of St. Martin without overspending.

La Playa Orient Bay

For travelers looking for a sea view hotel that caters to families, La Playa Orient Bay is an excellent option. Located on the famous Orient Bay Beach, this resort offers affordable accommodations with plenty of activities for both adults and children.

The hotel features comfortable rooms with sea views, a swimming pool, and an on-site restaurant. La Playa Orient Bay is known for its relaxed, family-friendly atmosphere, with plenty of opportunities for water sports, beach games, and exploring the nearby nature trails.

Despite being located on one of the most popular beaches in St. Martin, La Playa Orient Bay remains reasonably priced, making it an excellent choice for families looking to enjoy a beach vacation without overspending.

Baker's Suites

Located in Simpson Bay, Baker’s Suites is a boutique hotel that offers affordability without compromising on style or comfort. Each suite comes equipped with a kitchenette, private balcony, and modern furnishings, making it perfect for budget travelers who still want a touch of luxury.

Baker’s Suites is located just a short walk from Simpson Bay Beach, giving guests easy access to one of St. Martin’s most popular stretches of sand. The hotel’s convenient location also means that guests are close to a variety of restaurants, bars, and shopping centers.

This hotel is ideal for couples or solo travelers looking to enjoy the beach and nightlife of Simpson Bay while staying within a budget.

L’Esplanade

For travelers seeking a peaceful retreat with a spectacular sea view, L’Esplanade is a hidden gem in Grand Case. While slightly more upscale, this boutique hotel offers reasonable rates for its prime location and stunning views of the Caribbean Sea.

L’Esplanade is known for its intimate atmosphere and personalized service, making it a great option for couples looking for a romantic escape without the hefty price tag of larger resorts. The rooms are tastefully decorated, and the lush tropical gardens create a serene environment for relaxation.

St. Martin is often associated with luxury, but it’s also a destination that offers plenty of affordable options for budget-conscious travelers. If you are looking for a sea view hotel in St Martin, Sapphire Beach Club Resort is the best option. You can contact them by calling (721) 545 2179.

[jzvacationrentals]

Experience Saint Louis, Missouri: Unveiling the Beauty of Vacation Rentals

Saint Louis, Missouri, fondly known as the Gateway to the West, offers a treasure trove of experiences for travelers. From its iconic Gateway Arch to its vibrant cultural scene and rich history, this Midwestern gem beckons visitors from far and wide. One of the most compelling aspects of a visit to Saint Louis is the diverse array of vacation rentals available, particularly the inviting condo rentals that promise a home away from home.

Vacationers seeking the perfect blend of comfort, convenience, and affordability often find themselves drawn to condo rentals in Saint Louis. These accommodations provide a unique opportunity to immerse oneself in the local lifestyle while enjoying the comforts of a private space. Offering more space than traditional hotel rooms, condo rentals serve as an ideal choice for families, groups of friends, or solo travelers looking for a cozy retreat.

When planning a stay in Saint Louis, exploring the options in vacation rentals is paramount. Whether nestled in the heart of the city or perched overlooking the Mississippi River, these rentals offer unparalleled access to the city's attractions. The vibrant neighborhoods of Saint Louis become more than just a place to visit; they become a temporary home, allowing guests to live like locals and explore the city at their own pace.

One of the prime benefits of opting for condo rentals in Saint Louis is the sheer variety available. Travelers can select from a range of condos, each offering its own unique charm and amenities. From chic, modern apartments to historic condos brimming with character, there's something to suit every taste and preference. Many rentals boast fully equipped kitchens, spacious living areas, and in-unit laundry facilities, ensuring a comfortable and convenient stay.

Moreover, the allure of vacation rentals lies in the opportunity they afford guests to create personalized experiences. Staying in a condo allows visitors to tailor their stay to their liking. Whether it's enjoying a leisurely breakfast in a cozy dining nook, unwinding on a private balcony with panoramic views, or simply relishing the comforts of a well-furnished living room, the freedom and flexibility offered by these rentals are unparalleled.

Furthermore, the locations of these rentals are often strategically placed, providing easy access to Saint Louis' top attractions. Imagine waking up to the sun peeking over the Gateway Arch or having renowned museums, such as the Saint Louis Art Museum or the City Museum, just a stone's throw away. Convenience coupled with comfort makes condo rentals an attractive choice for travelers looking to make the most of their time exploring the city.

For those seeking a taste of local culture and cuisine, staying in a vacation rental in Saint Louis can be an enriching experience. Proximity to neighborhood eateries, markets, and community events allows guests to savor the city's culinary delights and soak in its vibrant atmosphere. Whether indulging in the famous St. Louis-style pizza or sampling the diverse culinary offerings in neighborhoods like The Hill or the Delmar Loop, condo rentals serve as a perfect starting point for culinary adventures.

In essence, condo rentals in Saint Louis, MO, redefine the travel experience by seamlessly blending comfort, convenience, and authenticity. As travelers increasingly seek unique and personalized stays, these rentals emerge as the epitome of a home away from home. From the bustling streets to the serene riverfront, the city welcomes visitors with open arms, offering them not just a place to stay, but an opportunity to create lasting memories in the heart of the Midwest.

In conclusion, for those seeking a memorable and immersive stay in Saint Louis, vacation rentals, especially condo rentals, stand out as an enticing choice. The melding of comfort, convenience, and the chance to live like a local elevates the travel experience, ensuring a visit to Saint Louis remains etched in one's memory for years to come.

For more info:- rent in St Louis Missouri

[wosoimagines]

i havent been to a cardinals game in like 3 years, have family in st louis but havent visited during baseball season in awhile, did u also go to the uswnt game

Before last year we hadn’t been to a Cards game since 2011 due to my brother and I being in school and other activities. So it’s been cool being able to come back to St. Louis.

Unfortunately I didn’t go for the USWNT game. I wanted to but no one else could get off and if I was going by myself I wouldn’t have been able to afford tickets and a hotel until my family came up on Friday.

[truthundressing]

.

[sirfrogsworth]

If you weren't aware of the story, my state governor, Mike Parson, accused a reporter and a security analyst of criminal "hacking" for exposing a security flaw on a public government website. They were able to find several social security numbers of teachers by viewing the HTML of the web page.

Basically, Gov. Parson accused them of hacking for hitting F12 in Chrome.

This was laughed at almost immediately on Twitter.

Then Parson doubled down.

And people laughed at him again.

Pretty much the entire information security community invalidated these "hacking" claims.

InfoSec educator Shannon Morse had this to say.

And because of the overwhelming evidence that this was NOT criminal hacking, Governor Parson retracted his statement and humbly apologized for his mistake.

HAH!

Of course he didn't do that.

HE'S A REPUBLICAN!

He tripled down.

And it's a masterpiece of dying on a hill. I have never seen anything quite like this.

Parson had his PAC called "United Missouri" produce this video calling out the "Fake News" and showing scary computery images that I guess represent hacking. And for some reason, they show a TV inside a hotel room during most of the video. I guess they couldn't afford a stock image of a computer monitor after paying for the Matrix-y graphics.

The video has an impressive like/dislike ratio on YouTube.

"Okay, our video isn't doing great. Everyone in the office hit the like button. All 8 of you!"

And the twitter version has a fun ratio as well.

I guess someone was out to lunch when the office liked this post.

The replies are fun...

After this video went live, Professor Shaji Khan, who verified the security flaw for the St. Louis Post Dispatch, demanded the Governor apologize and cover the legal costs that may incur if this sham investigation continues.

I really hope he sues Parson's pants off.

[thebluenoteblog]

New in Town

Summary: Calgary seems to come with its own welcoming crew.

Player: Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 1.1k

Requested: Yes

Authors Note: Do you want a part two? I can’t decide if this needs one.

When your employer uprooted and moved headquarters to Calgary, you were terrified that you would lose your job. What you weren't expecting was that they wanted to keep you enough to move you out there and cover the cost of your housing as long as you stayed with the company. Yet, here you were, standing in one of the nicest apartments that you had ever seen, paid for out of someone else's wallet. 

Still though, as you made countless trips up and down five floors as you unpacked your car, you found yourself wishing that you had risked sending more items with the movers who would be arriving tomorrow with the rest of your things. You were currently struggling with a box of your favorite books, ones that you swore you would need for the nights alone in hotel rooms during the twenty six hour drive up here.

You were halfway through the lobby, nearing the elevators when the bottom of the box ripped apart and sent the entire game of thrones series, your hardcover collection of Harry Potter, and a few other miscellaneous favorites spilling all over the floor. You froze and slowly looked down at the mess at your feet. There were bound to be a few torn pages and you were suddenly even more upset that you hadn’t sent them with the movers.

“Need some help with those?”

You looked up from the depressing pile on the floor into the eyes of a curly haired man with a smirk on his face. For some reason that half smile got on your nerves. It was like he was judging you, over your taste in literature? Over your failure to properly pack boxes? You didn’t know, but the judgment was certainly there.

That being said, your box was toast and there was no way you could carry all of these books up on your own without it. “If you have time,” you said, dropping your arms and allowing the tattered box to hang at your side. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It isn’t a problem,” he said, dropping to his knees to begin gathering books into his hands. “I was just getting home. My only plans for the next few hours are TV and food that I shouldn't be eating.”

You nodded as you inspected your ancient copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You know,” he said, “If you carried the box from the bottom, this wouldn’t happen.”

You looked up, fully intending to tell him to go about his day, then you saw the smile on his face and the humor in his eyes. “I think the problem originated when I thought I could pack all of my favorites in one box.”

He glanced down at the books he was gathering into his arms. “Harry Potter is one of your favorites?”

There was no mistaking the judgment in his tone this time. “What about it?” You asked defensively, not looking up at him, but instead picking up the last book off the floor. You inspected it for damage, then added it to your pile.

He shook his head and you could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Nothing… just, aren’t you a little old to be reading books meant for 11 year olds?”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes at him. “Are you done critiquing my taste in literature?”

He laughed as he stood, “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

Your eyes stayed narrowed but your shoulders relaxed. “I guess I can forgive you.”

“Oh,” he said, “I’m not apologizing.”

You sighed, why did the hot ones all have to be either taken or complete assholes. You rolled your eyes at him and started toward the elevators, arms full of books. 

He laughed as he followed you. “What floor are you on?” He asked. 

You pressed the up button on the control panel and waited as the light blinked on. “Five.”

The curly haired man shifted the weight of the books into one arm and held out his hand, “I never introduced myself, I’m Matthew.” He paused, smiling. “I also live on the fifth floor.”

Great. He was your neighbor. Now you had to like him. Or at least tolerate him. The elevator arrived and you stepped inside. He pushed the correct button and then leaned back against the wall. “I’m y/n.”

He studied the book on top of the stack for a moment. “With how much we pay in rent, you’d think they could afford faster elevators.”

You nodded, “Thank god I don’t pay my own rent. I’d never be able to afford a place this nice on my salary.”

“Got a sugar daddy?” He asked, that same smirk on his face.

You frowned and rolled your eyes. “No, my employer is paying for my housing. It was their way of getting me to move here.”

“Oh,” he said, “That’s cool. Where are you from?”

You eyed him curiously. You couldn’t get a read on Matthew. Was he legitimately interested or did he just want an excuse to make fun of you again?

“St. Louis, Missouri.” You finally answered just as the doors opened and you stepped into the hallway of the fifth floor.

He bounced after you like an excited puppy. “No way! Me too,” he said. “Finally someone else who understands provel cheese and toasted ravioli! I love it here, but damn I miss home.”

“I hate provel cheese,” you said as you unlocked your door. 

He froze, eyes widening comically. “How can you hate something so amazing?”

You shrugged, “I think I ate it too much as a kid. It was the only pizza my dad would eat.”

You pushed the door of your apartment open and walked inside, dropping the books onto the pile of boxes you’d already carried up.

“You have no furniture,” Matthew said, “Why?”

You turned to watch as he set his stack of books next to yours. “The movers are getting here tomorrow with the rest of my stuff.”

He nodded slowly, “Do you have anything else to bring up? I’d be happy to help.”

You shook your head, “Nope, that was the last of it. I almost made it without making a fool of myself, then I fumbled on the last play.”

He laughed, “You didn’t make a fool of yourself. It was kind of cute. You looked like you wanted to hit something.”

You nodded slowly, “I did.”

Matthew smiled, taking a step closer to you, “Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” He asked. “You have no table to eat at or couch to sit on. You don’t even have a TV.”

You eyed him curiously. Why was he being so nice to you? Should you trust some random man who had continuously insulted you for the past ten minutes? 

Probably not.

Yet somehow, you found yourself saying yes.

[ferretshark]

Meet Me In St Louis

By: @ferretshark

For: @wonkystank​

Rating:General

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, May Parker 

Summary:

Peter really wasn’t looking forward to Friday, May was working and he already knew that Tony was going out of town because Lab and movie night were cancelled. He should just take the time to stay in and catch up on sleep. The problem was he couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking, but he couldn’t think effectively because he needed sleep. The cycle was vicious and he wasn’t seeing a way out.

He looks up to find Tony watching him.“You know I’m going to St Louis. Why don’t you come with?”

“Go with you? I thought it was a business trip.”

Ao3 link 

Peter stares into space, unfocused. He’s tired and everything he needs to do stretches out in front of him. Lately sleep has been hard to come by and the days are blurring together, even Spider-manning has lost some of its charm. He sighs.

“I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” Tony’s voice is teasing.

Peter blinks, eyes snapping back into focus. “Um, no. I'm not bored.” It was lab day, not that they’d accomplished much. The lethargy that had been plaguing Peter all week iswas still there sapping his creativity. He starts to offer up an excuse but settles for honesty. “I’m just... tired.”

Tony’s eyes darken with concern. “Yeah, May and I have been worried about that. Maybe it’s time for a break, Bud.”

Peter narrows his eyes a bit. He’s not sure how he feels about this new development where Tony and May consult on the regular about his welfare.

“So no school on Friday.” Tony ventures. “Happy said you’re o-ff.”

“Yeah, it’s a teacher work day.” He slumps forward, resting his cheek on his hand.

Peter really wasn’t looking forward to Friday, May was working and he already knew that Tony was going out of town because Lab and movie night were cancelled. He should just take the time to stay in and catch up on sleep. The problem was he couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking, but he couldn’t think effectively because he needed sleep. The cycle was vicious and he wasn’t seeing a way out.

He looks up to find Tony watching him.“You know I’m going to St Louis. Why don’t you come with?”

“Go with you? I thought it was a business trip.”

“It is. All the more reason you should come along.”

Peter considers. Seeing the in and outs of running SI could be cool, but the  travel sounds exhausting. “I’ll have to see what May thinks,” he mumbles out.

“She thinks it’s a good idea. “ Tony crosses his arms at Peter’s unimpressed look. “Might be fun to do a little light interning?” Tony’s phone chimes and he glances down. “Happy’s here.”

Peter stands, stretches and starts gathering his jacket and backpack. He’s not really sure where the afternoon’s gone.

Tony walks with him out to the garage, it’s something that’s started to become a bit of a tradition lately. “ See you bright and early on Friday. And, Pete, leave the suit at home.”

—-

Peter tries to go to bed early on Thursday, he really does. He only patrols to nine thirty , comes home, showers and packs his duffle.

He’s in bed by eleven but sleep won’t come. Tossing and turning well past midnight, he checks his phone again, up in three hours. He flips the screen down and passes out close to dawn.

By some miracle he’s awake at five thirty, grabs a quick breakfast and is downstairs ready when  the black Bently pulls up to the curb. The door and trunk locks disengage.

“Quick! Get in.” Happy yells through the windows.

Peter barely has time to throw his bag in the open trunk and get the door shut before Happy’s veering back out into traffic. He peers at Peter in the rear view mirror. “Buckle up!”

“Ok, ok I‘m working on it.” Peter pulls the belt and snaps the buckle into place. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”

“He’s meeting us there.”  Happy answers, accelerating through a yellow light.

Sometime later, they pull up in front of the private jet hanger. Peter hops out and waits while Happy grabs their bags. The jet sits on the tarmac, and it gives Peter flashbacks of another trip not so long ago. The steps to the passenger cabin lower and Happy hurries inside with the luggage only to poke his head out again.

“Can you tell Tony we’re ready to go? His stuff’s already here but I think he’s in the hanger.”

Peter looks over to the tan building waiting off.  “Uh, sure.”  He steps inside the open building and sure enough Tony is there, tapping away on his mobile.

“I thought you said no suits.” Peter gestures to the Iron Man suit standing in sentry mode over in the corner of the hanger.

“Do as I say not as I do.” Tony says flippantly, not looking up from his phone. “Anyway, he’s staying here.”

The fact that Tony always talked about each of his suits as if they were wayward children but also proclaimed them synonymous with himself privately amuses Peter. He looks fondly at the suit.

“So still not sleeping?” Peter looks up to find Tony’s gaze sweeping over his face.

“Not really.” He shrugs, he doesn’t want to get into it right now. “Happy says it’s time to go.”

Tony looks out at the jet. “Yeah, probably. Come on.”

______

The flight time stretches out as Peter stares out the window. Mr. Stark mouths an apology but ends up spending most of the time on his phone. He can see Happy hunched over in the back, sending emails.

At least the WiFi is plentiful. Peter spends his time wisely watching tik toks and scrolling through tumblr. He wishes he could rest a little, but even as tired as he is, actual sleepiness seemed out of reach. The tiredness he carries lately is settled down deep in his bones and leaves him feeling like he’s taking tiny sips of rest when he really needs to drink deep. The  resulting exhaustion sits heavy in his mind, weighing down his shoulders. Trying to ignore the feeling he  stretches out, putting his feet on the seat across from him.

Slipping his earphones in affords him some semblance of privacy,  He starts up his Spidey playlist and dives back into the wonders of the internet. He’s not really aware when he starts singing, until he launches into an energetic chorus and suddenly he remembers. He bolts upright to find the other two airplane occupants regarding him with everything from amusement to irritation. In fact, it was exactly those two reactions, amusement and irritation.

“Oh, um sorry.”

Tony laughs and goes back to his work, still smiling.

Happy is playing a mean eyebrow game as he finishes his phone call.

Peter clears his throat and settles back into his seat <i>quietly.</i> He also studiously avoids looking around the passenger cabin. Fortunately, within thirty minutes, they're on the ground at the airport.

He stands and stretches while Happy and Tony disembark. He’s learned by now that the most important thing to do in these situations is stay out of Happy Hogan’s way. The man is a ball of energy as he secures their ride and gets the luggage put away.

Tony slides into the back seat and Peter slips in beside him. “Let’s go, Hap.”

Peter marvels at the views of an unfamiliar city through the car window, far off he catches a glimpse of the Gateway Arch, the city’s most famous landmark. There’s factories and abandoned houses, museums and concrete, but it’s also beautiful and green in a way that parts of Queens aren't. Maybe it’s not a fair comparison but, hey, Peter hasn’t been too many places.

They pull up at the Four Seasons Hotel because, of course, Tony always goes first class. Peter takes a quick panoramic shot and sends it out in a text to his best friend. Ned was going to die.

The lobby is all light and glass and Peter tries hard not to be intimidated. He’d stayed in some reasonably nice places back when he was in band, but really nothing close to this.

Tony goes to the front desk and comes back with keycards. He passes them out to Peter and Happy.

“We have early check in so go make yourselves at home. Same floor.”

Happy looks a little surprised, “They didn’t have your suite-”

He’s cut off by Tony. “It’s good, we’re good,” he calls over his shoulder, heading to the elevator. “Let’s go.”

They get to the right floor and exit the elevator and Tony hovers while Peter finds his room number easily enough. Tony lingers behind him in the hallway until his door swings open, making sure his keycard works.

Peter pushes inside to reveal a tasteful decor in green, gray and olive. The room opens up at the end with an enormous picture window, framing  the far off bridge and graceful sloping Arch. His first thought is that he’d love to swing from it. His second is that he must be in the wrong room.

He leans back out in the hallway. “Mr. Stark?” He can see Tony down and across the hall balancing his phone while he tries to work his key card from its little paper sleeve.

“Yeah, Pete?”

“I think I have the wrong room. There’s the view um..the Arch?” He gestures back toward the room.

Tony’s smile is soft with understanding, “I know kid, I’ve seen it.” He disappears into his own room. “Try a nap, if you can.”

Peter turns back, his eyes riveted to the skyline.  Slipping into the room, he drops his bag on the floor. “Holy shit.” He whispers and then executes a pivot and falls backward onto the incredibly soft bed.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out, thumb sliding across the cracked screen. The plan is to send a few quick texts to May, but the muse strikes him and he steps over to take a few pictures from the window.

There’s a sharp rap at the door and Peter surges to his feet. Outside in the hall he finds Happy, looking not very happy at all. The man was all business.

“Ok, at midday we’ll be heading over to Switchpoint Services. We’ll do lunch there. The meeting’s at one.” Happy hands him a packet. “Here’s your security badge.” He slaps a laminated piece of plastic into Peter’s hand,  “Wear it,” he stresses. “Do not lose it.” He gives Peter stern look, bulging out his eyes to make his point.

“That was, like, one time.” Peter tries to defend himself.

“If you don’t have the badge, they won’t let you in.” Happy doubles down on the dire warnings. “And don’t think you can sweet-talk your way upstairs like you do with that lobby guy at SI.”

“Ok, ok Happy, I got it.”

“Meet us in the lobby at 11 and we’ll head over.”

Happy turns and heads off down the hall. Peter shuts the door and sets his packet out. He should probably familiarize himself with the company they were going to.

There’s an olive chaise and he sits down on it. He spends a lazy half hour reading over the history of one Switchpoint Services, a poly-global tech company. Their latest innovations were extremely noteworthy. No wonder Mr. Stark wanted to partner with them.

He flips listlessly through the pages again. Maybe he should take a nap, like Mr Stark suggested. He glances over at the bed, but the thought of laying there, wanting to sleep but being unable. His new unwelcome normal. No, Peter turns his head back towards the window, then leans his head against it. He watches the flow of people and traffic below him.

A brief pattern of soft knocks sound at the door, and Peter’s head jerks up.

“Come in,” Peter calls.

Tony sticks his head around the door. “You busy?”

“Oh, it’s you.”

Tony just gives him a look before stepping into the room. He walks over to where Peter is.

“You just standing here?” Tony’s brows draw together.

Peter shrugs, “Yeah.” He wants to confide in Tony and tell him about the lack of sleep, the inability to rest. He feels like if anyone would understand, it would be Ironman. The words won’t come though, but in the end he doesn’t need them.  

Tony hooks the edge of the olive green lounger and pulls it in front of the window. He pats the seat beside him. Peter joins him and they sit together, staring out at the mid-morning crush. Everyone outside was hurrying, trying to get somewhere but in this moment, in this space, Peter found he could finally just breathe.

There’s something in the shared silence that does more than any amount of talking could have.

Eventually, Tony’s phone beeps and he leaves, telling Peter it’s almost time to get ready.

Peter changes into his “work” clothes. His standard blue-gray sweater over a collared shirt and khaki pants. Not snazzy, like whatever Mr Stark will wear, but it works. He picks up the packet Happy gave him, slips his keycard in his pocket, and goes down in the elevator.

Downstairs Happy and Mr. Stark are chatting quietly. Happy is in his standard gray suit. Mr Stark is wearing a fitted black suit with a white dress shirt and red tie. His eyes are somewhat masked by the fashion shades he’s wearing. Peter fidgets, feeling underdressed.

Ton smiles when he catches sight of Peter, “There he is. Right on time.” He claps Peter on the back and they head to the parking lot.

Happy ushers them to the car and they drive through the busy city to a square building with blue mirrored windows.

Peter steps out, looking up at the office and swallows, tugging a bit at his cuffs.

Tony catches his eye, “Nerves?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Peter says with a little more confidence than he actually feels. He checks to make sure he has his security badge and that it’s visible.

There’s nothing quite like stepping into a business with Tony Stark. He’s instantly recognizable and between Stark Industries and the Avengers, his celebrity has launched into the stratosphere.

Happy takes immediate charge or coordinating with the personnel on site. Peter follows close behind Mr. Stark as they are ushered into a brightly lit, but currently empty, conference room. It’s bigger than Peter had expected and he wonders for the first time just how many people would be joining them.

After quiet discussion with their guid, Tony settles in at the head of the table and directs Peter to the seat on his right. The chairs themselves are a dove gray with a surprisingly comfortable seat. Peter leans back and stretches his legs out in front of him.

“You hungry?” Mr Stark asks.

“Mm, yeah. I could eat,” Peter answers politely.

“Yeah me too,” Mr. Stark steps out and has a word with Happy. When he comes back, he has food.

“The finest box lunch ten bucks can buy. Complete with mystery cookie.” Tony tosses down a  box lunch in front of Peter. Tony leaves and comes back with bottled waters.

They open their boxes and Peter pulls out his ham and cheese. This was one of those fancier lunches with the really good bread. He takes a bite and sighs. Hunger well on its way to being sated, he roots around to find his chips and a wrapped dill pickle slice.

“Chocolate, white chocolate chunk.” Tony comments, unwrapping his baked good. “What did you get?”

“Looks like white chocolate macadamia.” Peter keeps his expression neutral because, sure, he’d eat it. He generally wasn’t in the position to be picky.

He looks up to find Tony holding the chocolate cookie out,  “Trade?”

“Um sure.” He knows he sound less enthusiastic than he feels but he is grateful - chocolate cookies were the best.

“ Macadamia nuts. You know,” Tony muses. “Back in the day, they used to serve pouches of these on flights to Hawaii.” He takes a bite of the cookie, chews and swallows. “For the greater good and all, but I still kinda miss ‘em.”

They clean up their lunches and Tony reads over his notes again. As the meeting time grows closer, the room starts to fill with people. There’s polite murmuring among the group and Peter does his best not to eavesdrop. It’s full to capacity by the time, a woman greets them both warmly and then calls everyone to attention.

“I want to turn you over to our esteemed guest, Mr. Tony Stark.” Applause from around the conference table and Peter wonders awkwardly if he should be clapping too. As he’s puzzling over the implications of clapping versus not clapping, the group moves on, their attention completely focused on Tony, at the head of the table.  

“You know who I am so we won’t waste anymore time on that.” A confident smile curls at Tony’s lips. “I do want to introduce you to my intern Peter.” He gestures to Peter, who in lieu of saying anything, settles for a quick wave. He hopes he wasn’t supposed to say anything.

Tony continues talking, “I have a lot of proposals come across my desk, but this one was exceptional, the possibilities of application are endless…”

Peter zones out a bit as the meeting winds on. There’s a back and forth, then question time before the meeting ends around lunch time.

Tony drops back in his seat after the last person, a chatty man in a silver tie, files out.

“That went well.”

Peter is watching him and playing with a pen between his fingers, “Yeah, it seemed to. These guys are really smart.”

“Did you get a copy of the prospectus?” Tony asks, glancing over at him.

“Oh, no I didn’t get one.” Peter glances around his spot at the table, just in case he’s overlooked it.

“Here,” Tony slides the thick packet over, “read it.”

And Peter does, it doesn’t take him long to get to the particulars.

He pores over the details. It’s for a mobile robot that could source its own energy needs. It consumed metal by breaking down its chemical bonds and converted it to stored energy, like a battery.

“This is so cool.” Peter marvels. He could think of several applications just off the top of his head.

Tony smiles, “I knew you’d appreciate it.”

“Are you buying the patent?”

“I’m buying the company.” Mr. Stark smirks but then he holds up a finger. “That’s confidential, it’s not official. Gotta convince Pep first.” Tony had a leather satchel and he slips his documents inside. “Ready to head out?”

“Yeah sure.” Peter gathers his own papers. “Where’s Happy?”

“I have him running point on a few things.” Mr. Stark doesn’t elaborate and Peter follows him out. They drop their badges off and head out into the late afternoon sunshine.

There’s a silver Audi parked in a reserved spot and Peter doesn’t waste time wondering how it got there. As with most things involving Tony, it just was. They get in and buckle up.

“Any idea what you want for dinner?”

“I’m good with whatever. “

“Any thoughts? Now’s your chance.” Tony merges into the flow of traffic and accelerates, the engine purrs as it picks up speed.

Peter shrugs, he doesn’t really know any places up here aside from fast food restaurants and he doesn’t think that’s what Mr. Stark would want.

Tony drums his thumbs on the steering wheel, thinking. “You ever been to The Cheesecake Factory?”

Pete blinks. There was one in Queens but it was more for tourists and proms. Plus it was kind of pricey. He and May frequented the quieter, family owned restaurants around their apartment.

“Maybe once with Ned?” He really wasn’t sure.

“So it’s been a while?” Tony shoots him a look from the corner of his eye. “Sound ok to you?”

“Sure, sounds good. I’m totally good with whatever, Mr Stark.”

They park near the restaurant and Tony sheds his jacket and tie, tossing them in the back. They’re seated right away and the waitress drops off bread.

Peter is happy to find that the portions are huge and the bread basket bottomless. By the time they finish their cheesecake, he’s actually comfortably full.

“I didn't know Tony Stark ate anywhere like the Cheesecake Factory.” Peter teases

“Jokes on you, Tony Stark once ate a two day old cheese burger off the floor. Not one of my finer moments and also one I’d encourage you not to repeat.” Tony’s self deprecating smile almost masked the flash of emotion behind his eyes but not quite.

Peter falls back on a joke to head off any awkwardness,  “You only do that with gummy bears, Mr Stark.”

Tony gives him a long look and then narrows his eyes.

“I was eight!” Peter says defensively.

Tony’s tone is pure skepticism. “Sure you were.”

The waitress comes back with the bill. . “ Here’s this whenever you're ready. Your to-go order and cheesecakes are coming. We’re just getting them bagged up now.”

“Piece to go?” Peter wonders.

Tony’s mouth quirks, “A piece? I got a whole cake. Pep would kill me if I didn’t bring her some.”

He flips open the card holder and signs the top copy with typical flourish. Peter notices in spite of himself that the tip line has a couple of extra zeros for their waitress. Tony slips his card back into his wallet.

“I don’t know why they don’t take Starkpay.” He mutters to himself as much as Peter. “We gotta make that more of a thing.”

it makes Peter feel funny to have Tony pay for him. He’s aware that Tony foots lots of bills but he doesn’t want the man to feel like it’s expected.

The drive back to the hotel is in comfortable silence. Peter doesn’t feel like he needs to fill the space with words, he feels valued and  understood. He can count on one hand the places in his life that fill him with this kind of contentment.

“The Midwest isn’t a bad place to live.” Tony ruminates. “I’ve blown through here a couple of times, used to stay at the Omni. There’s a great little curry shop downtown, only open for two hours a day, but that is some great pakora.”

“What’s it called?” Peter’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“Mr. Curry.” Tony answers and then grins.

Peter’s laugh surprises him. There’s nothing really funny about it but everything seems light and easy right now.

“Next time, remind me to take you up to the bakery in Kirkwood.’” Tony says thoughtfully,  “The cookies? You’ll love ‘em. He’s a fully trained chef with a little hole in the wall shop. It’s pretty cool.”

The sun had set when they were in the restaurant and the world was muted and dark. The lights from the stores and other cars blur together and Peter is overcome with a feeling somnolence. He can suddenly barely keep his eyes open.

Tony pulls the Audi into the hotel lot and parks it in a smooth motion.

“Hey, Pete,” He calls, his voice low. “We’re here, bud.”

Peter blinks slowly and wipes at his eyes with his palms. “Ok.” He picks up his things and they head inside. The lights of the lobby are a little blinding after being outside, causing Peter to squint under the glare.

Tony hands off his cheesecake to the front desk and they take the elevator upstairs. Peter slumps against the wall. He notices that Tony still has a bag in his hand and when Peter looks at it, he lifts it up and smiles.

“Happy. He’s a late eater,” He explains.

Peter nods, but doesn't speak, words are just a bridge too far right now, which is very unlike him.

He gets his ley in the reader and the door opens. Tony lingers for a moment.“You need anything? Glass of water? Pillow menu?”

“P- There’s a pillow menu?” Peter’s not quite sure if Tony’s teasing or not, but he considers, “Nah, I'm good, Mr. Stark. Thanks for dinner.” Thanks for everything.

“Sleep tight, kid. You did good today.” Tony’s smile is warm and fond. “See you in the morning, he heads off to find Happy.

Buoyed by the praise Peter shuts his door, showers and brushes his teeth. He nearly forgets to set his alarm, but catches it before collapsing into bed and falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When Peter wakes up, he feels well-rested for the first time in a long time. He has to admit that this has been a nice vacation from New York. He showers, dresses and packs up his clothes and phone charger. He pushes the curtains back and takes in the view one more time. He’s kind of going to miss it here.

Gathering up his bag, he looks out the window one, more time before texting Mr. Stark and Happy that he was on his way down stairs. When he steps off the elevator, he finds Tony in the seating area and he’s just sitting down when Happy shows up.

“You’re looking better.” Happy comments, setting down a coffee carrier and handing him a cup. “Got your usual.”

“Oh thanks!” Peter takes his. It’s sweet and hot and he sighs into it happily. Only to look up and see Tony watching him with gentle amusement.

“Coffee, Am I right?” Tony smiles and reaches for his own cup.

“Yeah.” Peter takes another drink. “So the beds here are amazing. It was like being eaten by a marshmallow. Or maybe a cloud.”

Happy snorts and Tony grins at his phone, “There might be a future for you in advertising.”

They take their coffee and drive over to what amounts to an elaborate networking session with brunch being served. Of course, everyone wanted to talk to Mr. Stark so Peter kept close to Happy and munched his way through all four flavors of bagel. Not quite up to New York standards, but passable.

A few people do talk to him and ask about his internship. Fortunately, they’d worked the particulars of that cover story out long ago. He sticks mostly to the script, but tells one woman that he’s also into web design, only to be interrupted by Happy choking on his orange juice.

It takes a while to extricate themselves. Mr. Stark seems intent on making himself accessible. Although he’s not big on shaking hands, he does listen carefully when people talk to him. It strikes Peter that Tony Stark the businessman is a very different animal from Tony Stark, the Avenger, who shows up late for briefings just to troll Captain America. He’s glad he’s in a position to witness both.

They make it out mid afternoon, just beating rush hour.

“Pepper wants you to sign these.” Happy hurries up the steps and thrusts a leather portfolio at Tony.

Peter falls back in his seat, he’d slept last night but drowsiness persists.

The jet is dimmer than he remembers and warm. He can hear the scratch of Tony’s fountain pen against paper as he goes over the contracts. It relaxes him

He finds his eyes slipping closed. At some point he wakes up to find a blanket tucked around his shoulders and Tony watching him with a warm expression full of fondness.

“Go back to sleep, bud.”

And he does, easily.

He wakes to Tony gently shaking his knee. Peter stretches,

Happy’s head was rolled back against the seat, snoring solidly, but as soon as he realizes where they are, he springs into action.

It takes a while but they finally make it into Queens and Happy sits idling in the street while cars weave around them, honking

“This is for May.” Tony casually hands Peter a Cheesecake Factory bag.

“Oh wow.” Peter sniffs the bag, its definitely chocolate.

Tony regards him through the rolled down window, “Ok, take care. Stay out of trouble.”

Peter scoffs, “Of course.” They both know that’s a lie, Tony laughs.

“Bye Peter.” Happy calls impatiently, but Peter doesn’t take offense.

“Goodbye, drive safe!” He calls after the Departing Bentley.

Peter turns and bounds up the steps with the bag.

“May?”He calls when he opens the apartment door.

“Hey Baby.” May lights up when she sees him and he closes in on her for a quick hug.

He pulls back and shows her the bag, “Tony sent you a cheesecake.”

“That was thoughtful. Put it in the fridge.” She tucks her hair up. “You’re gonna help me eat it, right? Right?” When he doesn't answer her immediately she nudges him with her elbow.

“Depends on what flavor it is.”

“Thai tonight?”

“Sure, you know how I love a good larb.”

“And the larb loves you.” She quips pulling a plate from the drying rack and putting it up in the cabinet. “So how was your trip?”

“Good!” Peter washes his hands and grabs a handful of silverware to toss in the drawer.

“It worked.” He makes short work of tossing everything into the various slots and turns to look at her.

“What worked?” Her face is the picture of innocence.

“Come on.” Peter gives her a look.“You guys think I wouldn’t figure it out?

May’s eyes take on a serious tone and she reaches up and shifts a couple of his curls back into place. “He was worried. We both were. And for the record, you look less like the walking dead and a lot more like Peter.”

“Yeah, I feel more like him too,” He smiles.

“Ok, I’m going to go get ready for dinner.” She sweeps out of the kitchen, “be ready in ten!”

Peter grabs his bag and heads to his room, his phone starts ringing and he accepts the Facetime call.

“Hey!”

“ Just wanted to make sure you got home ok.”

“Yeah, Mr. Stark. You just saw me like an hour ago,”  Peter teases.

“Well you never know, it’s a fast paced world, Mr. Parker.” Tony is leaning back with a washcloth covering his eyes.

Peter frowns, “Are you ok?”

“Just winding down after a hard couple day's work.”

Peter hears the soft sloshing of water, “Wait, are you in the bathtub?” He demands incredulously, squinting at the screen, were those <i>bubbles?</i>

“Yep, creature comforts and all, don’t knock it til you- oop, oh shit.”

The view shifts as the phone falls sideways, then a distinct ‘bloop’ and the viewscreen goes a blurry iridescent to blue then black.

“Mr. Stark?”

Friday’s voice comes over the blackened screen. “Mr. Stark is no longer connected.”

Peter blows out a laugh and then he chortles, he so cannot wait for the next lab day.

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 21 | Morgan Rielly

A/N:  Y’all deserve this one.  I’ll be at church cleansing my sins if you need me.  

Briony never got to give out Valentine’s Day cards at school because she could never afford them.  She’d get them from her fellow students, decorated with superheroes or puppies or whatever else was popular at the time, usually with a heart-shaped chocolate or a Hershey’s Kiss, but she was never able to give any out.  That was why, given the opportunity, she went out and bought really corny Valentine’s Day cards, the fold up ones that came in packs of 30, wrote one to Morgan for each day of his road trip, and hid them in his suitcase for the 13-day tour of Montreal, New York, Colorado, Las Vegas, Arizona, and St. Louis.  Bee was a bit bummed that she wasn’t able to spend time with Morgan on their first Valentine’s Day together, but there wasn’t exactly anything she could do about it.  

Instead, she was focused on the training she was completing for her new job.  The day after her interview, Mark Travers had called her back.  “Can you come back to my office?” he had asked.  Morgan was at morning practice, so she high-tailed it in an Uber.  When she got there, he sat her down in the same chair she sat in for the interview.  “What are your salary expectations?”  “There will be performance bonuses if you accept and do well.”  “We’re not going with the candidate from Montreal.  I would love for you to be part of our team.”  It was all very surreal, and of course, she accepted the job.  She was a junior financial analyst at Scotiabank.  Her hard work paid off in the best way possible.  Yes, she had a boyfriend, the best boyfriend in the world – but now, she had a job.  She had a career.  She had everything she had ever wanted.

Morgan was, of course, over the moon when she told him.  So over the moon, in fact, that the Leafs won their next two games against Anaheim and Ottawa.  She was able to go to both games after her training, just a short walk to the ACC from Scotia Plaza.  He asked so many questions and was so interested in everything she would be doing.  He was like a little kid in a candy store.  He wouldn’t shut up about it.  He told his teammates.  He told the wives and girlfriends (as if she hadn’t already).  He told Mike Babcock because, well, he just happened to be listening at the time.  He told the Uber Eats delivery man when he dropped off their food that night, a celebratory feast on Indian food.  He’d tell a park bench if it listened.  

But, like always, then he had to leave.  A thirteen day road trip for the team.  He cursed the fact that after all these big events, he always had to leave, and they could never properly celebrate.  They couldn’t even properly celebrate their first Valentine’s Day, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.  There wasn’t exactly anything any of the other wives or girlfriends could do about it, so instead of wallowing in self-pity, Alannah had organized a “Galentine’s Day” night over at hers and Zach’s place.  The boys were facing the Vegas Golden Knights tonight, and the girls could at least watch the game together while eating junk food and sipping on mimosas and mocktails rather than spend the night alone.  

Until then, Bee found herself with Aryne, who was apparently feeling particularly stir-crazy.  There was a week of paid training before Bee assumed her full responsibilities, and in the time, Aryne made it her personal goal to meet with Bee everyday for lunch so they could check out places to eat in the financial district.  Today, they were at the Cactus Club, an import from western Canada that just opened a few blocks north of the Scotia Plaza.  Aryne had ordered them both a tuna poke bowl and non-alcoholic Valentine’s Day-themed drinks.  

They had been talking for a while, discussing who was going to be at Alannah’s place that night and what time Aryne would pick Bee up, when suddenly a shrill voice was heard from across the restaurant screaming, “Ohmigod, Aryne is that you?!”  Aryne and Bee both looked to their left, and Bee saw a beach blonde running over to them with a giant smile on her face.  

“Oh Lord,” Aryne mused under her breath as she smiled at the woman making a beeline.  

“Who’s that?” Bee asked, but it was too late.  The woman had approached their table and Aryne was smiling politely at her.

“So nice to see you here!” the woman said, bending down and giving Aryne a hug, who didn’t bother getting up from her seat.  “I can’t believe I ran into you here of all places.  What are you doing here?”

“I’m having lunch with my friend,” Aryne said.  Why else would she be in a restaurant with another person sitting across from her?  “Bee, this is Sydney.  Sydney this is Bee McTa--”

“So you’re Bee?” she said slyly, not bothering to offer her hand for a polite shake.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“From who?” Bee asked.

“From Instagram,” Sydney said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  Bee got worried the second she mentioned it.  She didn’t even know who this Sydney was – why did she knew who Bee was?  What had she seen on Instagram that made her feel like she already knew who Bee was?  “I just love that Chanel bag that Morgan got you.”

“What have you been up to, Sydney?” Aryne intervened the split second she saw Bee’s eyebrows furrow.  “What brings you back to Toronto?”

“Well, I had my dress fitting at Kleinfeld today.  Jessica had a working lunch so I thought I’d come to Cactus Club and see what the food’s like,” she explained.  Bee had no idea who Jessica was and she wasn’t inclined in the slightest to ask.

“Jessica who?  Mulroney?” Aryne asked.

“Of course, Aryne.  Who else?” Sydney smiled.  “Anyway, the second dress was already ordered in Southampton so we’re waiting for that to come in for alterations as well.  Then there’s the veil and the flower wall and just, like, so many other things.”

“Should’ve eloped,” Aryne winked.

“Boomer wouldn’t want that,” she giggled, turning her attention back to Bee.  “You must know my fiancé Matt?  Or my father Boomer Esiason?”

Bee didn’t understand.  Did Sydney just ‘my father’ her a la Meghan McCain?  Was she just name-dropping people in the hopes that Bee would recognize who she was?  Why would she want anyone to recognize her?  Bee shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“My fiancé is Matt Martin.  He plays for the Islanders.  He was on the Leafs last year,” her tone was light but she spoke in short sentences, talking to Bee like she was an idiot.  “Do you not know about hockey?”

“Not a lot, actually,” Bee tried to keep her voice as cordial as possible.  She could see Aryne trying to suppress a smirk.  “I’m usually too busy with work to learn about other teams, so I just stick to the Leafs.”

“Oh…” Sydney was taken aback by Bee’s answer, by Bee’s lack of interest in who she was, in Bee’s lack of caring about anything to do with her.  

“Bee’s a financial analyst with Scotiabank,” Aryne informed Sydney.

“And Morgan’s okay with that?”

A shiver ran up Bee’s spine.  “Why wouldn’t he be okay with that?”

“Morgan earns more than enough money for the both of you.  All the hockey players I know would love to have their girlfriends at home with them to help with the hockey schedule.  You know how boys are so dependent,” she tried to turn it into a joke.  “They can be so useless sometimes.”

Maybe her boy was dependent, but Morgan could get by on his own.  Bee didn’t like the insinuation that he was the only one that mattered in the relationship and that her needs took second place to his.  That’s not the way she lived her life, ever, and that’s not the way she and Morgan acted in their relationship.  “Morgan loves that I have my own career,” Bee said definitively, taking a sip of water to prevent her from saying anything else she might regret.

Sydney smiled politely.  “Well, I won’t keep you two much longer,” she gave a half smile to Bee before focusing on Aryne.  “Look for the invitation to come late May.  It’s going to be in Southampton.  We’ll provide hotel details.”

“Good luck with the rest of the planning,” Aryne smiled before Sydney walked away, readjusting a Prada bag on her shoulder.  Aryne looked back at Bee and gave her a look.  “Sorry about that.  I thought we’d be safe here.”

“Is she always like that?  Namedropping Jessicas and Boomers and who her husband is?” Bee asked.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Aryne rolled her eyes slightly.  “Her dad was a pro football player and now she’s getting married to Matt.  He played for the Islanders with John, then played in Toronto for two years, but now he’s back on the island.  She’s really close with Steph.”

Bee tried not to roll her eyes.  She didn’t like those types of people – those that would namedrop to get what they want or so they could let you know who they were.  It actually did say a lot about who they were, and to Bee, it wasn’t that good.  She didn’t even like it when Morgan did it all those months ago at Cibo.  “What did she mean she saw me on Instagram?” Bee asked.

“Well obviously we’ve been uploading pictures and stuff,” Aryne said, taking her phone out of her purse.  “But then there’s like, the fanpages or whatever.  She stalks them a bit to see what they say about her and Matt.”

“The what?”

“The fanpages.  You know, like the girls who somehow get a hold of our pictures and then post them on their accounts?” she phrased it as more of a question.  When she saw the confused look on Bee’s face, she shook her head.  “Oh come on Bee.  You have to know about them.”

“I know about the girls who send me messages telling me I’m fat and Morgan’s my sugardaddy,” she said bluntly.  Aryne knew about them too.  They laughed about them together.  “I don’t know about these so called fan-pages.  How do they get the pictures if our profiles are private?”

“Oh, they find their ways,” Aryne typed something into her phone and swiped through a few screens.  “It’s nothing horrible.  They literally just post pictures.  But…yeah.  Here’s you,” she said, showing Bee her phone over the table.

Bee took Aryne’s phone in her hands and swiped through the post from @theladyleafsoftoronto: ten pictures stolen from her Instagram account, from Ashley’s Instagram, and even from Lucy’s private one somehow.  Group shots of her with the girls.  None of her and Morgan together, thankfully, because those were few and far in between.  She had just posted her first one, series of photos of them together in Vancouver, after they got back from their trip.  She’d cleared her Instagram like Angie told her to, and she hoped they wouldn’t get out.

“Check out at NHL wives and girlfriends,” Aryne said the name of another account before she stuffed her face with contents of her poke bowl.  “Those girls should work for CSIS.”

Bee punched the handle into the search bar and immediately saw the account.  She didn’t have to scroll far to see the two different posts, each with another series of photos and videos of her.  Twenty total.  They had screengrabbed Instagram stories of her and Morgan kissing from Auston’s New Years Eve party and others, Boomerangs from Halloween in their costumes, and even went so far as to include one of the oldest pictures of herself she had posted to Instagram.  They were crazy.  And somehow – yup, of course, of-fucking-course – the series of photos of her and Morgan together from Vancouver were on there.  She didn’t even want to know how they got there.

“Wait…” Bee said as she noticed one specific picture.  Their backs were to the camera and they were standing on the seawall on Kitsilano Beach, where Andy brought them when they landed in Vancouver.  “That’s…that’s not…”

“What’s wrong?”

“One of these is Shirley’s picture,” she said.  “Shirley…she only posts to Facebook.  You mean to tell me they stalk her Facebook?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Aryne shrugged her shoulders.  “I told you.  They should work for CSIS.  They could get information on anyone.  Hell, if you didn’t even have an online presence they’d still find you.”

It was at that point, staring at the candid picture Shirley had taken of them in Vancouver, that Bee realized there was nothing she or Morgan could do about it.  Absolutely nothing.  They could switch on every privacy button they could, they could refuse to post – none of it mattered.  It would still end up somewhere.  It would still end up on an Instagram profile with almost 10,000 followers and fifty comments on the post.  It was completely out of their control.

So why bother?

“Jesus,” Bee shivered slightly, and it wasn’t because of the cold outside.  She handed Aryne’s phone back to her.  “I didn’t know…I mean, these girls must have a lot of time on their hands.”

“I know it’s a lot, but it’s not a big deal.  It happens to us all.  They all find it somehow.  The more you come to just accept that it’s gonna happen, the less freaked out you get when it does happen,” Aryne explained.  “The fact that you don’t care what they say helps, too.  Yours and Morgan’s relationship is strong and you’re better than what they say about you.  Other girls aren’t as strong as you.”

***

Bee had received a text with a picture of every Valentine Morgan found on his 13 day road trip followed by a heart and a message of “I can’t wait to see you”.  Now that he was finally on his way home, Bee sent him a text back: “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

She was restless.  All she wanted was him with her, beneath her, above her, beside her, behind her – she didn’t fucking care at this point.  She wanted touch him and to feel him so desperately she was willing to jump his bones the second he got in the door.  Hell, she’d meet him down in the parking garage if it meant getting her hands on him.  But with the last ounce of self-restraint she had, she put on her blush coloured baby doll lingerie set and waited for him on the bed.  

Even as she heard the door open and shut, she stayed in her position.  “Bumblebee?” Morgan called out, the sound of his bag hitting the floor loud in the quietness of the apartment.

“In here!”

She heard his footsteps make their way to the bedroom.  When he opened the door, he was greeted with her, sitting on the bed on her knees in her lingerie.  He stopped for a moment, taking in the scene before him.  “Well well well…happy belated Valentine’s Day to me,” he hummed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day baby,” she smiled, noticing he had something in his hand.  “What’s that?”

“Your valentines,” he said.  “Wanted to give you a kiss for every one you left me, but it seems like you have other plans in mind,” he licked his lips.  “I’ve never seen this before.”

“I was keeping it a secret.”

“Oh were you,” he sauntered over to her, making a come hither motion with his finger.  She moved towards the edge of the bed where he was standing, slipping her arms around his neck.  “I mean it.  Thirteen kisses,” he mumbled, grabbing hold of the flesh at her hips before giving her the first kiss.  “I love the pink,” he mumbled.

“I knew you would,” she said, biting his bottom lip.  “God, I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too, Briony.  But I’m home now.”

She kissed him again, unable to wait any longer.  They definitely gave each other more than thirteen kisses as they made out, but she wasn’t exactly complaining.  Morgan’s hands on her flesh were intoxicating and all she wanted to feel.  She wasted no time in ridding him of his clothes.  He moved quickly to put the valentines on the dresser so he wouldn’t lose them.  

“Lie on the bed,” she directed him when he came back.

“What?”

“I said lie on the bed,” she repeated as she made way for him to do just that.

“What are you --”

“Can you stop asking questions and just lie on the bed!” she giggled, pulling him down so he had no choice.  Crawling in between his legs, she couldn’t help but smile as he put his hands behind his head to view her.  She grabbed a pillow for him so he could use it in place of his hands.  She needed his hands for this.  “Did your cock miss me?”

“Mmmm, you have no idea,” he said, his voice low.  

She helped him out of his boxer-briefs and scratched her nails teasingly down his thighs.  When she finally grabbed hold of his cock, she smiled before kissing the head gently.  Morgan bit down on his lip as he looked at her.  “C’mon baby.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head, a devilish smile on her face.  “Nice and slow.”

He glared at her momentarily.  “Excuse me?”

“Nice and slow,” she repeated, her eyes flashing with revenge.  “I can tease too, you know.”

“What are you – wha…” he didn’t understand what she was trying to say, but then it hit him.  This was payback.  ‘Nice and slow’ was payback for their little impromptu rendezvous before Auston’s New Year’s Eve party, where he’d teased her so achingly slow with his fingers.  “Baby, please --”

“No,” she said definitively, licking the underside of his cock, but pulling away right after.  “Nice.  And.  Slow.”

He let out an exasperated sigh.  He knew he was going to pay for that one day.

 True to word, miraculously, she worked on his cock slow and steady, making sure to take her time with the foreplay and use all of her tricks that she knew would drive him wild: the moaning, the dirty talk, even the simple act of catching his eye while his cock was in her mouth and rolling them to the back of her head in pleasure.  His body felt like it was a thousand degrees as she worked her magic.  

When she began to take him deeper into her mouth and throat, he made sure to gather her hair in his hand as he guided her up and down his shaft.  Like always, his eyes rolled back when she would gag slightly, but because she was taking this all nice and slow, everything seemed heightened.  She was thoroughly enjoying herself and taking her time, and by her actions he knew she wasn’t forcing herself to do anything she was uncomfortable doing.  

“Feeling good, baby?” she asked quickly before taking him into her mouth again.

He grunted in appreciation, tightening his grip on her hair slightly.  “You’re so fucking good.”

She moaned a little before she sucked him from base to tip, ending with a pop.  “I wanna taste you baby.”

His breathing was hot and heavy.  “W-What?” he stuttered out.

“I want you to cum down my throat baby.  I want to taste you,” she cooed.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he moaned out, but before he could say anything else, she took him deep in her throat quickly, gagging, and he actively had to think about something else to prevent him from exploding right then and there.  He caught her eye as she looked up at him.  “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

She giggled.  “Good,” she said before continuing her actions.

True to his word, it wasn’t long before he began to lose control.  He tightened his grip on her hair one last time before he rocked his hips so he could push himself even deeper into her throat.  After one last moan and one last gag, she felt him shoot his hot load into her throat.  His breathing was erratic, his sighs more high-pitched than normal, and Bee let out a satisfied sound as she swallowed every bit of him.  

She continued sucking until she felt him get soft, ending with another pop and another devilish grin on her face.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Morgan.”

“Hap…Hap…” he tried to speak, but he couldn’t.  He couldn’t even think straight.  “I can’t…I can’t…” he repeated, worried, still on a high.  He didn’t know what to do.  He couldn’t move, but he knew the night couldn’t end here.  No way.  He never wanted to not make her come, especially for Valentine’s Day celebration, but after doing so himself, like that, he didn’t know how long he’d have to take to recuperate.  Needless to say, he didn’t exactly want to wait either.  

“C’mon Morgan,” she whispered, her voice breathy and low, her lips grazing against his ear.  

His brain was fucking mush.  He wasn’t even sure where he was to be honest.  “I…I…” he tried to formulate a coherent thought, completely spent and still trying to catch his breath.

“C’mon baby.  I’m all dressed up,” she taunted him.

He watched her as she slipped her hand underneath her panties and began to touch herself.  He regained enough semblance of a conscience to realize he didn’t want her to be doing that.  He wanted to be the one.  “Stop,” he said as firmly as he could.  

She did as she was told.  She looked at him and a small smile crept onto her lips.  “How do you want me?” she asked.  

Just by the way she phrased it he was ready to explode again right then and there.  “Get on your knees,” he said, and she followed instructions, lying back on her knees to face him.  “Other way,” he directed, watching the surprise spread across her face as she did what she was told yet again.  

Finally regaining enough consciousness, he got on his knees too, getting behind her so her back was flush with his chest.  He wrapped his left arm around her slowly, making sure his fingers grazed her skin underneath the material of the babydoll.  His right hand was already playing with the lacy material of her underwear.  He kissed his way along her shoulder and up her neck until he got to her ear.  “You trust me?” he asked.

Bee nodded her head.  “I trust you.”

He gave her another tender kiss on her neck, his right hand already reaching over and slipping into the front of her panties to tease her hot core.  She jumped at his touch, knowing what he was about to do.  “I’m gonna start with one,” he whispered in her ear.

“Two.”

A shiver went up his spine.  “Two?”

She nodded her head.  “I want it so bad.”

He sighed contently, chuckling to himself at the desperation in her voice.  He began teasing her with two fingers, playing with her slick folds and rubbing circles on her clit as he continued to kiss and bite the skin along her neck and shoulders, definitely leaving marks.  He could feel her getting wetter with each passing moment and, lacking all self-control, he didn’t wait to push his fingers inside of her.  

She moaned at the action, grinding her hips against his hand as much as possible.  She snaked her hand along Morgan’s arm that wrapped around her body and intertwined her fingers with his.  “Fuck, Mo.”

“Feel good?” he bit down on her neck.

Bee could only nod her head as he curled his fingers in her, hitting the spot that made her shake in pleasure.  “Feels so fucking good,” she managed to breathe out.

His kisses were a mix of tender and hungry; his bites both loving and heated.  He bit his way back up to her ear.  “Are you gonna be a good girl for me Briony?” he asked.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes.  “Yes.”

“Are you gonna take more?”

“Yes.  Yes,” she said, desperate, grinding her hips again.  “Please Mo.  I want more.”

He slipped another finger in, now three fingers deep in her.  Bee shouted out slightly at the sensation, adjusting to the new feeling as much as she could before her body began reacting before her brain could.  A warm shiver went up her spine and she leaned back into Morgan, his chest slick with sweat.  “You okay?” he asked quickly.

“Go harder, Morgan.”

Was it possible to self-combust?  Because between the blowjob and this, he was sure he was going to spontaneously self-combust right then and there on the bed.  She knew just the right tone to use in her voice when she begged to drive him wild.  “You’re fucking desperate, aren’t you?”

“Please Morgan,” she begged again, bringing her free hand up to yank at his hair, pulling him so she could give him a sloppy kiss.  

His fingers continued to curl inside her and she moaned out in pleasure.  This time, he tightened the grip his arm had around her body, limiting her movement so she couldn’t grind against his hand as much.  He knew how much she liked when he held her hips down while he ate her out, making sure the responsibility of her pleasure was in his hands the most, and he figured she’d enjoy it just as much in this situation too.  A whine escaped her as she realized what he was doing; despite her best effort, she wasn’t able to grind down as much.  “Harder,” she panted out.

Losing any semblance of restraint he had left, he began pumping his three fingers in and out of her quickly, much to her wish and indulgence.  Her moans were loud and desperate, long and throaty, while, by some miracle, he was still rubbing against her clit and he was still kissing and biting down on the sensitive skin on her neck.  It was all too much for her – the different sensations in different places – and her body became hot and she could feel her orgasm already building as Morgan continued to work.  “Morgaaaaaaannnnn,” she elongated his name, pleading with him to continue exactly what he was doing.  

“You like that, huh,” he mumbled against her skin, making her nod her head.  “You’re so fucking desperate for me to fuck you like this.”

“Morgan, please,” she didn’t know what else to say.  She knew it was all she was saying but she could barely form a coherent thought.  This was so unlike anything they’d ever done; although he had fingered her before, it was never like this.  It was never this hot and this steamy and this raw.  She was so close she felt like she was going to explode already.  “I’m so close.”

“Then make a fucking mess, Briony.”

That’s it.  She’s lost it.  She cried out loudly, repeating his name over and over again as he curled his fingers in her one last time, making sure it lasted as long as it could as she collapsed against his body, her head leaning back onto his shoulder.  Her legs felt like jelly and her hair stuck against his skin.  

His fingers were still in her and her thighs were wet as he gave her a tender kiss.  “You’re such a good girl for me.  Always such a good girl,” he whispered.

“Again.”

He stopped momentarily.  He wasn’t expecting to hear that.  “What?”

“More.  And again.”

The shock was written all over his face, but she couldn’t see because between not facing him and her eyes rolling to the back of her head, she couldn’t see much of anything.  “I…you want more?” he clarified.

“Keep going,” she nodded her head.  “I want more.  Keep going until I can’t scream anymore.”

In a snap second he realized what she was asking him to do.  “Are you sure?” he asked one more time.

“Positive.  Go wild, baby.”

He practically growled at her request, tightening his grip around her once more and starting to move his fingers in and out of her again.  “You gonna take it all like a good girl?”

“Like your good girl.”

“Mmmmm, that’s right.  You’re my good girl,” he licked at her jawline.  “You ready?”

Bee nodded her head.  She whimpered when he curled his fingers and began pounding them into her even harder than before.  She felt so warm and wet and the sounds they were making, the moaning and the screaming and the panting, the squelching of her wetness against his hands, it was all so hot and heavy and neither Morgan nor Bee could get enough.  “Mooorrrrgaaannnnn, fuck you’re so good baby,” she cried out.

“You want to come again, Briony?  So desperate for me to make you come again?” he tormented her.

“Yes baby.  Over and over.”

“Over and over till you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Yes!” she screamed out, apparently loving the idea.  “Yes baby.  Because of you.  Only you get to do this to my pussy.”

“You gonna make another mess?”

“Yes.  Yes Morgan.  Always.”

“You gonna come for me?”

“Only for you baby,” she turned her head as much as possible to kiss him.  “Don’t stop, baby.  Keep going until I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

Morgan did just that.  Over and over Bee cried out, losing control, screaming, panting, her body being shattered as waves of pleasure continually washed over her, non-stop, especially after Morgan slipped a fourth finger into her, stretching her completely and filling her like she hadn’t been filled before.  Her body felt like it was on fire as Morgan held her up in his arm, but the constant state of orgasm and the more overstimulation she felt, the more her body began to feel like it was going to collapse onto the bed at any given moment.  

The longer they went, the more orgasms she had, and the longer they went, the more Morgan recovered and began to feel hard again.  He didn’t even know how long they’d been going for, but because of the overstimulation, his non-stop movements, and the fact that Bee hadn’t been silent since they started, he also wasn’t truly sure how many orgasms she’d had.  “How many?”

She didn’t answer at first.  She couldn’t answer.  She was so wrecked she didn’t know words were a thing she could use.  “How many, Briony?” Morgan repeated.

“I d’know,” she let out quickly.  

“You wanted this baby.  How many?” he demanded an answer from her.  

“I don’t…I don’t know,” her moans were broken, her skin shining from the sweat.  “It’s so much.”  A rose flush had taken over her body.  His fingers hadn’t stopped.  She was too concentrated on the feeling; the feeling of pleasure but also the feeling of being completely lost to another person, her pleasure in his control, and feeling one hundred percent safe about it.  

“C’mon baby, you can keep going,” he encouraged her.  

“Morgan,” she cried out, so hot and so wet and so…so willing to keep going.

“C’mon, you can do it again, huh?  Like a good girl?  Like my good girl?”  His voice was soft instead of demanding, filled with love instead of forcing her to do something.  

“Y…Yes,” she panted out.  All she knew was that she was close, she was so close, but she wasn’t done yet.  It was a lot, almost too much, definitely more than she had ever felt before, but she wanted to keep going.  

“That’s my good girl,” Morgan cooed as he placed a kiss on her temple.  “I’m almost ready, okay?  But you’re being such a good girl.”

“Fuck me when you’re ready,” her voice was hoarse and strained.  

“Don’t worry baby.  I’ll fill you up like I always do.  Stretch that pretty pussy how you like it.”

“Mmmmmmm fuck, keep going Morgan.  Keep going,” she whimpered.  

“C’mon baby, you can take it.  You can take it,” Morgan hummed as he began moving his fingers inside her again.  She was so sensitive that any movement sent her over the edge quickly.  She cried out his name over and over, his fingers and her thighs absolutely fucking soaked, and it wasn’t long before he felt her walls clench around his fingers again, and again, and again.  

Finally, finally, the arm keeping her up loosened, his hand going to his cock to stroke himself and get him as hard as he could.  She immediately collapsed down, hitting the sheets as he teased at her entrance.  It wasn’t long before he pulled her by her hair, slick with the sweat from their bodies, and brought her back to be flush with his chest.  “Are you okay baby?” he asked.  She barely nodded her head.  “One more?”

She closed her eyes, another barely there nod.  “I need your cock deep inside me.”

He entered her in one quick go, gasping at how fucking wet she was and how fucking easy it was to slide in to her aching, hot pussy as she collapsed on the bed again, ass up in the air for him.  He knew he wasn’t going to last long, his hard thrusts burying his cock deep inside of her.  She screamed and moaned and whimpered over every movement, practically sobbing at the feeling of feeling completely and absolutely wrecked by Morgan.  When she felt his hot cum squirt inside her, one last orgasm – after way too many to count – ripped through her body, sending her into one last rush of pleasure before Morgan collapsed on top of her body, cock softening inside her but refusing to pull out.

It was a long time before they came back down to earth.  Bee’s heart was threatening beat right out of her chest, the overstimulation still running rampant through her, especially since Morgan’s cock was still inside her.  She took some deep breaths to try and calm herself.  When Morgan’s arm wrapped around her and he shifted their bodies slightly so he was spooning her, he placed tender kisses along her shoulder, now absolutely ravaged with red hickeys and bite marks, and she felt her heartbeat slow down a bit.

“You okay, baby?” he whispered.

At first, she could only nod her head.  Her throat was so dry it hurt to speak.  She wondered if she would have a voice tomorrow.  “I’m okay.”

“You did so good baby.  You were so good for me,” he cooed, giving her another tender kiss.  “Always such a good girl.”

She couldn’t get enough of him calling her his good girl.  She knew she was always good for him, to him, but he was good to her and for her, too.  She twisted her body so she could somewhat see him yet still keep his cock inside her.  She was absolutely spent, just absolutely destroyed, but she wanted to see the face of the man who made her feel this way; the face of the man who indulged her every want but always kept her needs in mind.  “Thank you, baby,” she whispered.  She wouldn’t have been confident doing this with anybody else, and for that, she was truly thankful.  She could completely lose herself to him and know she would be safe.  She knew he would explore this with her but always keep her in control.  

“Thank you, baby,” he kissed her.  “I love you so much.  I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.  No, you didn’t hurt me.  It was better than what I wanted.  I love you too.”

“You wanna clean u--”

“No,” Bee said as he began to move.  Her desperate hand on his skin stopped his movements.  She knew it probably wasn’t the best decision but she didn’t care.  “I don’t care right now.  Just stay here with me.”

Morgan nestled back into her, arm draping over her body as he pulled her close against his chest, their bodies still slick with sweat.  She’d kill him once she realized what her shoulders and neck looked like, but for now, all he could do was kiss the skin peppered with love bites until they both drifted off to sleep.

[rdesai19]

How I got my first job

It was 2 months into the summer of ‘88. I had still not found a permanent job. Here I was, squeezing time from my summer teaching job at the college for a 3-day trip to St Louis for a couple of interviews. I will do a car trip in the Midwest. It will be a bit hectic since I have to be in three cities hundreds of miles apart in three days. 

The first evening, I went from Sr Louis to St Joseph. I remember a beautiful moment of Americana -  I am driving West, into my future, the sun is low in the large blue sky and the prairie is swaying all around me. I promised myself that I will take my time the next time.

I checked into a motel at St. Joseph, late at night. Next morning, I do the whole day interview for adjunct CS professor. I got to see the town on my way in, during lunch and on my way out. The town must have been quite a celebrity in its time - it is where the pony train started. To my untrained eye, It looked like the kind of place where one lived in America, Cute, pretty, prosperous, open, happy. And, to put the cherry on the cake, I would be close to my closest cousins. The winters would suck, the pay would be lower than I expected. But, at least - I won’t be forced into the minimum wage that was PhD.

The interviews went well. I liked the people. They seemed to like me. I could see myself in the role. I could be good. Teach fundamentals to fresh minds. Maybe being an adjunct will inspire me to stay in academia and apply for a PhD, like Vic. Not sure if I can invent something new, But, it would be fun if I really did.

I had not done well in the hiring season. I had been rejected a few times already. A friend had got an awesome package from DEC - one of the best computer companies in the world. Me, I did not even get an interview call from DEC.This interview, even if it was for much less money - was a welcome chance to hope in my luck. Of course, this hope could also turn out to be a mirage.

After the interview, I got on the  road again. I had a long haul - it will be well past 1, by the time I get into chicago, for the interview next morning. But, like many well laid out plans, this plan unraveled. Dilipbhai and bhabhi were supposed to let me in. But, they were so exhausted with new baby - they slept right through the phone and the bell. I spent the night in the car - cold and hungry. Chicago nights get very cold, even in the middle of the night. I tossed and turned. Finally, bhabhi came and poked curiously at the car in the driveway. 

I took a short nap since the interview place was nearby. But soon, I had to get ready and leave.  The interview was a disaster. I was not well versed enough in hardware for their company. And, the lack of sleep did not help either, I am sure.

After the interview - I head to St. Louis. But, being so young and brash, I decide to take a detour to drop by on a girl who went to school at Notre Dame - a 4 hour detour. By the time I hit the road to St. Louis - it is late at night and I have to do an all night drive. I cant even stay over since Tushar needs his car the next morning.

I am so sleepy. I doze in the car. I pull off at a truck stop and slept for a few hours. I remember driving into St. Louis during morning commute. I could barely keep myself awake and drove really poorly. Totally like a DUI. Cars swerved around me. Horns honked around me. But somehow, I managed to avoid an accident and I reached home safe and sound. Tushar rushed off to work, I crashed out.

I had lunch with the kids. Parents were in India or somewhere else. Looking back on it - that was pretty rash behavior. I could have damaged their car, created huge liability, may have even killed someone or injured myself. But, even they did not dwell on these finer details. We had a good lunch and then they dropped me off to the airport.

While waiting at the airport, I get a phone call from St. Joseph’s - offering me $24,000 for a 9-month position. My first job offer. I was thrilled, even though I knew this was much less than what my buddies were getting in industry. I had not done as well as expected. But, hey, it was a job offer :-) Finally after 4 rejects.

I called my parents from the airport, early morning in India. My family was jubilant. Thankfully, they kept the disappointment unspoken. We all hoped something better shows up but no one wanted to say it - at least that’s what I felt. But, it was 5 times more money than graduate school. And I could keep looking for a job. At least, this is not a reject.

Thar summer, I sent my resume to hundreds of positions I found in the classifieds. I managed to get called for 5 job interviews. First one was in Ithaca. A research place. Very academic. Quite prestigious and well-paid. I had technical interviews and gave a well attended talk. I was feeling confident. Over lunch, we talked about our technical passions and I, feeling a bit too much camradarie - went a bit over-board with the truth about my attitude towards programming. They cited that as a reason why I was not a match for their company. I felt quite sheepish.

The second interview was at a real-estate software startup in some small town on the outskirts of Boston. They were two young men looking for a computer guy to build the PC package for them. They knew just enough CS to ask me what a pointer was. But, they could see that I was not going to cut it. 

St Joseph’s was my 3rd interview and it had yielded my one and only job offer so far. The job at St Joseph started in 2 weeks. So, it looked like - those were my two options - St. Joseph or grad school at RI. And then, out of nowhere, I got a call from one of my IIT CS class mates, who was working at HP in California . We talked, he passed my resume and had a word with the hiring manager - Beth about my time constraints.

I got a a phone screen the very next day.I passed and they wanted an on-site interview next week. I said - can we do it this week instead? I will buy the tickets and take care of my hotel. They can reimburse later, if they hire me. They were gracious enough to accommodate my unorthodox request. I had my interview scheduled for that Friday. 

The interviews at HP were the best technical interviews of my life. I remember a long design conversation about showing large outputs with Jeff Vance. Chris Mayo also interviewed me. He was just like the old men in Woonsocket, but younger. He seemed so happy and deeply technical.The hiring manager took me out for dinner after the interviews. Anil had got the offer during dinner. I was hoping for the same. Halfway through the dinner - Beth set my expectations straight. HP would get back to me soon. No offer tonight.

That night, I was dejected. My string of rejects continues, I thought. But, we decided to put it away and make a night of it anyway in Santa Clara downtown. The next day we went to the city. Anil and Narinder gave me the tour of SF. Golden Gate bridge had a special connection for me because of my brother’s pictures from when he lived in SF in 1970. Next day, I flew back to RI.

Over the next few days, I lined up a car and the auto loan. All the paperwork was ready. The plan was ready to be set into motion at the last possible moment. I had till Wed. morning. If I do not hear from HP by then - I have to start spending money. I had the details worked out - sign the papers at the bank, drive to the dealer with Deepak, pick up the car, come back home - pack up the car and start driving West. I would reach St. Joseph by Friday - and start my job on Monday.

I had not heard from HP till Tue afternoon. Only 18 hours left. And, then Beth calls. She congratulates me and makes me an offer. I remember considering negotiating the pay, before realizing my straits and blurting my acceptance.

The long ordeal of job hunting had come to a happy ending. I had met the expectations..I had landed the job I “deserved”. I was on the road to Green Card. I will not have to be a poor graduate student for another year. Now, I can cancel my plans for being on the road. Instead, I can plan a vacation. Oh, happy times.

My starting date was a month away - two weeks after the start of school. I had a bunch of money saved up for the move. Money I did not need now, since HP will move me and put me up. I decided against going to India and instead stayed at home. Ganesh and Ramesh were around and soon enough the new year will start and everyone will be around. There are too many anecdotes about that month. There was a reunion with my high school friends. There were all night teen-patti nights. Ganesh and I got thrown out of a bar. I will write another story around that. 

The good times were here finally All that studying and watching planes fly and dreaming had completed. The final chapter of the dream had become real. I had everything I had been planning all my life for. 

I was lucky to have these connections. People who made if affordable to go job hunting. People who lent me their car; people who put me up at their homes; People who put me in touch with other people; people who intervened on my behalf. It took a village. And, of course - the Asian Immigration Act.and the civil rights movement. 

[silence-you01]

I was supposed to be leaving for NYC today for a senior trip and given the current world situation it was canceled so I’m gonna show what I was supposed to do, not to brag but maybe as a coping mechanism.

Schools Theatre, Art & Business

Custom New York City Itinerary

DAY 1: Thursday, April 16, 2020

1:00am: 1:30am: 4:30am: 4:50-5:30am:

5:35-6:15am: 6:20am: 6:50am: 8:10am: 9:30am: 10:00am: 1:05am: 1:20-2:00pm:

2:45-3:15pm:

3:30-4:00pm: 4:20-4:50pm:

5:00-6:00pm:

6:30pm: 7:00-9:00pm:

9:45pm:

Meet at School, Load Bus (own transportation) Depart

Arrive at Omaha Eppley Airfield

Check-in at Southwest Airlines

Proceed through security

Breakfast (own expense) at airport

Boarding begins

FLIGHT #752 departs for Chicago

Flight arrives

Board FLIGHT #2034

Flight Departs for New York

Flight arrives at La Guardia Airport

Retrieve baggage – Meet GTP Rep at Baggage Claim

Load Motorcoach & Depart

Quick Snack (own expense) en route - E. 66th St & 1st Ave., New York

Suggestion: Baskin Robins, Dunkin Donuts, Basel Works

Photo Opportunity at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts

Walk the HIGH LINE public park built on a historic freight rail line elevated

above the streets on Manhattan’s West Side

Dinner (own expense) in CHELSEA MARKET, a closed urban food court,

shopping mall, office building and television production facility located

in the Chelsea neighborhood Arrive & Board Circle Line Cruise

Experience the beauty of New York City as the sun sets and the

city lights up on this two hour CIRCLE LINE HARBOR LIGHTS CRUISE along the Hudson River!

Check-in to ELEMENT BY WESTIN –

DAY 2: Friday, April 17, 2020

6:30-7:30am: 7:30-7:45am: 8:30am: 8:45am: 9:00am:

Expanded Continental Breakfast (included) at the Hotel Load Motorcoach & Depart

Arrive at Liberty State Park

Line up to Board Ferry

Ferry Departs

Day 2 Continues . . .

9:15-11:00am:

11:00am: 11:25am: 11:35am-2:00pm:

2:00pm: 2:25pm: 2:45pm: 3:00pm: 3:30-4:30pm:

5:00-6:20pm: 6:40pm: 7:00-10:00pm: 11:00pm:

Arrive and explore ELLIS ISLAND which afforded 12 million immigrants the opportunity to attain the American dream for themselves and their descendants from 1892 to 1954. (Audio Headsets available inside)

Line up to Board Ferry

Ferry Departs

Arrive and explore LIBERTY ISLAND. Explore the STATUE OF LIBERTY –

recognized as a universal symbol of freedom and democracy. Also Visit

the Statue of Liberty MUSEUM while on Liberty Island.

Lunch (own expense) on Liberty Island

Line up to Board Ferry

Ferry Departs

Arrive at Battery Park

Load Motorcoach

Explore the ROCKEFELLER PLAZA the world’s largest privately-owned

business and entertainment complex Dinner (included) at HARD ROCK CAFÉ Arrive at Gershwin Theatre

Enjoy a BROADWAY SHOW – Wicked Return to the Hotel

DAY 3: Saturday, April 18, 2020

7:15-8:15am: 8:15-8:30am: 10:00-11:30am:

11:40am-12:30pm: 1:00-2:30pm:

2:30pm: 2:30-5:45pm:

6:00pm: 6:00-7:15pm: 7:30pm: 8:00-10:15pm: 11:00pm:

Expanded Continental Breakfast (included) at the Hotel

Load Motorcoach & Depart

Enjoy the New Amsterdam Theatre’s BEHIND THE MAGIC TOUR – discover

the restored art and architecture of this beautiful landmark! An amazing

experience for all ages!

Lunch (own expense) near Theatre – McDonald’s or Subway

Visit the METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART one of the world’s largest

and greatest museums, featuring the finest collection of ancient Egyptian

art.

Load Motorcoach for City Tour – Meet Step-on Guide

Enjoy a New York CITY TOUR with step-on guide (visit Central Park-

Strawberry Fields, 5th Avenue, Lower Manhattan, St. Paul’s Chapel,

Ground Zero, Winter Garden)

Drop off step-on guide

Dinner (included) at APPLEBEE’S – 50th Street & Broadway Arrive at St. James Theatre

Enjoy a BROADWAY SHOW! – Frozen

Return to Hotel

DAY 4: Sunday, April 19, 2020

6:30-7:30am: 7:30-7:45am: 9:00-10:00am:

Expanded Continental Breakfast (included) at the Hotel

Load Motorcoach & Depart

Visit the new ONE WORLD OBSERVATORY and experience expansive

360 degree views in all directions from the top of One World Trade Center. Take in the iconic sights, surrounding waters and panoramic views of the skyline and beyond.

January 10, 2020

Day 4 Continues . . .

10:15-10:45am:

11:00am-12:15pm: 12:30-2:30pm:

3:00-5:00pm:

5:30-9:00pm: 10:00pm:

Explore the OCULUS, which serves as the centerpiece of the World Trade Center Transportation Hub and incorporates 78,000 square feet of multi-level state-of-the-art retail and dining!

Lunch (own expense) at Hudson Eats Food Court

Visit the 9/11 MEMORIAL, a national tribute of remembrance and honor

to the 2,983 people killed in the terror attacks of September 11, 2001 and February 26, 1993. Also visit the 9/11 MUSUEM that displays artifacts associated with the events of 9/11, while presenting stories of loss and recovery.

Enjoy shopping and sightseeing at the largest CHINATOWN in the United States and LITTLE ITALY- one of NYC’s most famous and popular ethnic neighborhoods.

Dinner (own expense) & Explore the sights and sounds of New York City’s epicenter, TIMES SQUARE!

Return to Hotel

DAY 5: Monday, April 20, 2020

8:00-9:00am: 9:00-9:30am:

TBD: 3:45pm: 4:25-5:00pm:

5:00-5:45pm: 5:55pm: 6:25pm: 8:25pm: 9:20pm: 9:50pm: 11:05pm: 11:15-11:30pm: 11:30-11:45pm: 11:45pm:

Expanded Continental Breakfast (included) at the Hotel

Check-out of Hotel & Load Motorcoach. Remember all your belongings!! Depart

Day Activities TBD

Arrive at La Guardia Airport

Check into Southwest Airlines

Proceed through Security

Dinner (own expense) at Airport

Board FLIGHT #390

Flight departs for St. Louis

Arrive at St. Louis Lambert International Airport

Board FLIGHT #188

Flight departs for Omaha

Arrive at Omaha Eppley Airfield

Retrieve Baggage

Load Bus (own transportation)

Depart

DAY 6: Tuesday, April 21, 2020

2:45am: Arrive at Home

[lakouiscom]

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[romanceyourdemons]

the dynamic i crave:

two cops in 1930s chicago are partners and also secret lovers. then it is revealed that one of them is dirty and when the other goes against his strict moral code to try and protect his partner both are fired in disgrace. each goes his way, each heartbroken and ashamed, though they keep it well hidden. ten years later the dirty cop is a slick mob boss in new york while his former partner is a scruffy and cynical san francisco private eye. though each has tried to fill his time with drinking and lovers, for some reason they can’t understand it only makes them feel disgusted and dirty. it feels like a betrayal. each keeps a photo of the other face-down in their bottom drawer, next to their bottle of gin. when a job in the red-brick slums of st. louis brings them into one another’s lives again, feelings they thought were long gone flood back, hot and insistent and distracting at the worst possible time. they’ve worked too hard for what they have, they tell themselves, the lights of a neon sign flashing red and green through the windows of their darkened hotel rooms. they’ve worked too hard to throw it away for a man they know hates them. and yet.... they each hold up the photo of the other, trying to muster the will to burn the face out with their cigarette butt like they know they should, but their hearts aren’t in it. no matter how many lies they tell themselves, their hearts aren’t in it. they stub out their cigarettes in the ashtray and pour themselves another drink. the job goes down tomorrow, and they can’t afford to be any less than their best.

[black-is-no-colour]

The Story Behind Hamish Bowles’s Maison Margiela Artisanal by John Galliano Met Gala Look

By Hamish Bowles, published by Vogue on 08 May 2019. Photography by Mehdi Lacoste.

John Galliano was always a star. When I started on my Foundation course in the early 1980s at Saint Martin’s School of Art, as it was then known, he was already a supernova of the fashion department, his exquisite drawings setting him on a sure path to becoming an illustrator. He inspired me to decide on a career in fashion rather than costume design (I had been torn), and after the Foundation course, I stayed on at Saint Martin’s to pursue just that. As John worked on his degree collection the following year, he holed up in the college library, hidden behind stacks of reference books that served a double purpose: They defined his private work space and helped to shield his jealously guarded sketches from prying eyes. As it turned out, John had taken inspiration from the Incroyables—the male and female dandies who emerged in the wake of the French Revolution with their own exaggerated versions of revolutionary style. He even burnt the edges of his drawings and dripped candle wax over them to create the illusion that they had been salvaged from an aristocrat’s ransacked mansion.

The collection was sensational—Joan Burstein, who ran Browns, London’s most fashionable boutique, bought it in its entirety. John couldn’t afford a taxi to transport it, so he wheeled it on a dress rail all the way to South Molton Street, where Mrs. B put it in her window and Barbra Streisand and Diana Ross bought pieces right out of it: They were his very first clients. John turned down a job offer to become an illustrator in New York and instead set up his eponymous brand there and then on a wing and a prayer.

I wore pieces from that first collection—waistcoats made from patches of 18th-century-style upholstery silks and sprigged cottons, jersey long johns, and vast organza shirts tying at the throat with a huge jabot. (John has re-created one of these looks to complete an ensemble built around a coat from this collection that the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s costume department has recently acquired and that is showcased in Andrew Bolton’s brilliant “Camp: Notes on Fashion” exhibition.)

The following season, John didn’t have the money to stage a fashion show, so he did a presentation instead in an old artist’s studio off the King’s Road. This collection was based on a 1920s cartoon in the satirical British weekly Punch titled Afghanistan Repudiates Western Ideals, and it explored a collision of Occidental and Afghan dress in John’s characteristically intriguing way. One of my ensembles from this collection—including a knee-length skirt that caused a sensation in Paris when I wore it to the collections that season—is now in the Boston Museum of Fine Art’s exhibition “Gender Bending Fashion.”

As soon as I heard the theme of this year’s Costume Institute show, I thought it would be the perfect moment to work again with John, who has found expression for his unquenchable creative force once more at the Maison Margiela. John had already made me a bias-cut black satin evening suit that evoked Shalom Harlow’s look from his unforgettable Fall 1994 show in Paris socialite Sao Schlumberger’s empty Louis Seize mansion.

To my great delight, John was soon on board. I sent some inspiration images of my eclectic pantheon of camp icons, including Mrs. Slocombe, the character with the Elnett-hairspray-bottle hair in ever-changing pastel hues, from the British sitcom Are You Being Served?; Quentin Crisp; Barbara Cartland; and Jazz Age aesthete Stephen Tennant. Together with John’s partner, Alexis Roche, we looked at looks from the Martin Margiela Artisanal Men’s Spring 2019 collection and isolated some silhouettes that we thought could work for me.

Source: Maison Margiela

At Saint Martin’s, John and I shared an inspirational mutual friend in the indubitably camp form of David Harrison, who was studying in the Fine Art department, had once improbably been scouted to front a punk band to be called the Sex Pistols (Johnny Rotten got the gig), and worked a Teddy Boy look that he accessorized with white winklepicker shoes, a peroxide quiff, and a pom-pom clipped white poodle dyed shocking pink who often appeared in his artworks. John’s studio had produced a frenetic collage print that was worked not only into the clothes but the runway itself, and that incorporated an Yves Klein blue poodle in everything from jacquard to tufted embroidery. I wondered if the poodle couldn’t go pink in homage to our camp friend?

Meanwhile, John’s studio sourced a jacquard cravat in mauve from Charvet, the storied Parisian men’s outfitter, and a selection of textiles in shades of grape and wisteria. (Charvet also made the shirt, and I found some Pepto-Bismol pink cufflinks in my own closet that the sculptor Andrew Logan had made for the John Waters high-camp superstar Divine in 1987. These would be my talismans for the night.)

When I went to Paris for my first fitting, after an initial visit to take measurements, John wasn’t in town, but Raffaele Ilardo, Margiela’s inspired head fitter, and his associate Jung A. Park were there to attend to all the finer points. There was already an amazing sample of the jacquard with the electric-pink poodles, and of the ostrich trim that John had instructed be embellished with metallic lurex threads to catch the light on the red (pink) carpet. (“Invisible to the naked eye but will pop in pictures, trust me,” he said.) Ilardo apprenticed with the legendary tailor Paquito (who carved Karl Lagerfeld’s most amazing suits at Chanel Haute Couture in the ’80s and ’90s), and he had made the most beautiful toiles, with a jacket that sat perfectly on my shoulders without adjustment and had a beautifully constructed rising roll at the top of the sleeves. The cape was constructed like a Victorian visite, with openings for the arms and subtle shaping in back. It was so perfectly constructed that I could have worn the toile itself.

Raffaele Ilardo working on the toile. Photographed by Alexis Roche.

“I advise that cape is rehearsed up and down steps if you can,” said John after he reviewed the fittings videos from afar. “No angle must be left to chance but still must look spontaneous. Every swish must be ingrained in the subconscious, and always imagine that Avedon is following you. A sudden knock at the door works wonders for that frozen-eyes-to-the-left look. Never forget Avedon is your focal point.”

A little over two weeks later, with the clock ticking before the Gala, I returned to Paris for a final fitting with John in the house. To my amazement, the entire ensemble had now been made, including the wide-toed Mary Jane shoes, shown in patent but specially remade for me in violet satin. There were two options of subtly different lilac, for a sheer sock dotted with a point d’esprit effect that was faintly obfuscated by the crushed hairs on my legs and would definitely be showcased, as the short pants hovered only a little below the knee. John gave my lower calves a long, hard look. “You’ll wax them just before the gala,” he instructed firmly. (“Always better when viewed through sheer, tons of moisturizer 15 mins before socks are put on,” he advised nearer the day.)

“It’s unbelievable,” I said when I saw the cape arranged on a tailor’s dummy in John’s light-flooded Margiela atelier. “It’ll only become unbelievable when you start to wear it,” said John. And, sure enough, when I put on the cloak and began walking up and down the studio and it caught the air in its massy volumes, it lifted up like a cloud, and, despite the thick feather fronding, seemed almost as light as one. “La légèreté!” John proclaimed exultantly, “It looks like a canvas, like you’re coming out of a painting.” I used the Margiela staircase to rehearse maneuvering the cape up and down the pink carpet, and I tried to work it from every angle, thinking by turns of Dietrich and Dovima and Proust’s beloved Comtesse Greffulhe. (“I love that little coyness!” said John. “It’s a Dorian Gray moment!”)

I’d asked John’s longtime collaborator and my great friend Stephen Jones for thoughts on something for the head (he concocted the custom top knots for the “Camp” exhibition mannequins) and he designed a wonderful tiara bandeau made of Swarovski crystals that were custom-produced in the required lilac hue and, like those lurex fronds, would add some pink carpet dazzle. John pronounced it a “very cool touch” and suggested “surfer pink” hair to match.”

On the eve of the gala, I submitted to leg waxing and sundry other beautifications (“Lymphatic drainage on face the night before always refines,” John had counseled, and thank you, Tracie Martyn, skin alchemist). On the morn, I went to the Greenwich Hotel to be ministered to by the brilliant Teddy Charles and his assistant Satoshi Ikeda, alongside Amber Valletta, and then I hied up to the St. Regis in a white Maserati to meet John, Alexis, and Raffaele and practice some more swishing and strutting in the hotel’s ballroom under their watchful eyes. “The Japanese kids are going to go mental for it,” said John of my Savile Row meets School Boy meets Comtesse de Castiglione lewk. Stephen fitted the tiara, which perfectly framed those Teddy-tweaked waves.

“Command your space!” said John as I headed out, “Hamish, it will be a riot!” How right he was.

Hamish Bowles at a fitting for his first custom Margiela look in 2018, photographed by Alexis Roche.

Source: Vogue.com

[rocketwerks]

Peter Stumpf Brewing Company

AKA, Home Brewing Company, Inc.

1201-1211 West Clay Street (Brewery)

1125 West Clay Street (Office)

Built, 1891

September 2019 — 1202 West Clay Street looking east

A brewer that began at Anheuser-Busch.

[RVCJ93] — Peter Stumpf’s Brewing Company Establishment — showing the Office at lower left & the Brewery at upper right

The Peter Stumpf Brewing Company, successors to the Richmond Brewing Company since July 1, 1892, owns and operates the new "Home" Brewery, situated at the corner of Harrison and Clay streets. 

September 2019

This brewery has an authorized capital stock of $200,000. Its buildings cost, with their complement of machinery, $150,000. Its premises cover a square and a half, with buildings for its brew house, malt house, bottling department, office building, stables, cooperage and cold-storage departments.

September 2019

It is equipped with the latest machinery known to the business, including a refrigerating apparatus of the C. F. Ott patent. Its malt house has a capacity of 5,000 bushels. 

(Find A Grave) — Peter Stumpf

The directors of this company are: Peter Stumpf, president; John D. Doyle, vice-president; Joseph Stumpf, secretary and treasurer; Ernest Meyer and George C. Guvernator.

(Library of Congress) — Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Richmond (1905) — Plate 57 — showing the combined complex at the height of its business

Messrs. Meyer, Doyle and Guvernator established the business here. These gentlemen were induced to venture upon this enterprise by reason of the demand for beer of home manufacture. Mr. Peter Stumpf and Joseph Stumpf, his brother, are both experienced in the business. 

[IOR] — Anheuser-Busch Brewing Assn, St. Louis Mo, USA

Before this venture of theirs they represented the Anheuser-Busch Brewing Association here for a number of years. Mr. Guvernator was formerly in the furniture business. He is proprietor of a hotel at Atlantic City. Mr. Doyle is also a hotel keeper of Atlantic City. Mr. Meyer is an experienced German brewmaster, long engaged in the business in the city of Philadelphia.

(Facebook Peter Stumpf Brewing)

Although so recently established, this company has already developed a trade in the city and State up to its full capacity and production. Its leading brands, "Home Beer" and "Weiner Export," are general favorites and are equal in strength and purity to any in the market. [RVCJ93]

(VCU) — 1889 Baist Atlas Map of Richmond — Plate 1 — showing Stumpf’s beer depot at the intersection of Union & Grace Streets

Stumpf was born in Offenbach, Germany and emigrated to New York in 1869 at the age of 18. He quickly broke into the brewing trade, and by 1886 he had relocated to Richmond, where he made suds for the Anheuser-Busch Brewing Association.

September 2019 — 1201 West Clay Street looking west

By 1892 he broke out on his own and moved his operation to West Clay Street, where he was successful enough that he developed franchises in Petersburg, Newport News, and Phoebus. He also owned or controlled a number of saloons here in Richmond which were "tied" bars, establishments that sold only the parent company’s product.

September 2019 — finial detail at 1201 West Clay Street

He retired from the business in 1897 at the unusually young age of 46, a year after marrying his wife, Hermine Morganstern. Perhaps it was for health reasons or maybe he was simply wealthy enough that he could afford not working. Either way, it didn’t last, and he died in 1903 at the age of 52. (Find A Grave)

(Peter Stumpf Brewing Company is part of the Atlas RVA! Project)

Print Sources

[IOR] Industries of Richmond. James P. Wood. 1886.

[RVCJ93] Richmond, Virginia: The City on the James: The Book of Its Chamber of Commerce and Principal Business Interests. G. W. Engelhardt. 1893.