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paceprompting · 29 days ago

Text

We'll Meet Again

Part One

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Eddie didn’t mind the mall around Christmas.

Yeah, the tinny music through the building’s speakers might grate his nerves after a few hours, but Eddie made it a point not to be there that long in the first place. And with everyone so busy from Black Friday to New Year’s, he could slip through the crowds with little to no dirty looks in his direction.

Which meant shopping for Wayne’s Christmas present in peace.

He’d noticed it around Halloween, coming home after Wayne to find him passed out on the couch. His coat hung on one of the kitchen chairs, and Eddie had stared at it while eating a midnight cereal. The old man had the thing since before Eddie started staying with him, and the wear was starting to show.

The inner lining had started to come away, and the corduory fabric on the outside was a few patches from unsalvagable. Not to mention the ratty state of the fur collar.

It had taken until now, two weeks into December, to save up enough for a coat—after his half of the rent and gas money. At least for the good ones at Bloomingdale’s.

He’d planned to be in and out in under an hour. It took the longest just to get into the store, and then to the men’s section at the back. Eddie found the style he wanted immediately, and went to searching the rack for the right size.

“Branching out?”

He may have been overly confident about flying under the radar.

Eddie’s eyes shot to the other side of the rack to find himself across from Steve Harrington. Again.

It had only been a week since the night Eddie still wasn’t sure he hadn’t hallucinated—where Steve had given Eddie a ride home without asking anything in return. Eddie had lived in terror for two days at school thinking Steve would pop up behind him and demand repayment.

“How’s the van?” Steve asked.

Because Eddie hadn’t said anything. And for some reason Steve was waiting there until he did.

“Waiting to go to the shop,” Eddie finally managed, swallowing hard. “Sharing the truck with my uncle.”

Steve nodded, standing with his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. Eddie peered around the rack and noticed that Steve didn’t have any shopping bags. Or any clothes laid over his arms, ready to buy.

Eddie raised a brow. “Something catch your eye over here?”

“Uh.” Steve blinked, like he’d been caught. He frantically scanned the clothing rack, plucking out a jacket that looked nearly identical to the one he was wearing. “This one.”

“Very you, Harrington.”

Steve held it up to his chest. “You think?”

It was ridiculous that that made Eddie chuckle. He spent twenty minutes with the guy, and he was already laughing at his charming, jock personality. Because Steve had been pleasant during that ride, even when Eddie tested the limits by changing the radio to a metal station.

Then Steve held the jacket out to him.

“Try it on.”

Eddie stared at him, wide-eyed. Then at the jacket, and back. “I can barely afford the buttons on that thing. I shouldn’t even touch it.”

Steve gave him a flat look, and shook the jacket. Eddie set his hands on his hips, and they remained that way until Eddie was sure Steve’s arm was going to fall off before he gave in.

He rolled his eyes, and went to strip off his own leather jacket, leaving Steve to join him. Eddie expected to be handed the garment, but when Eddie was just in his long-sleeve, Steve was holding the jacket for Eddie to slide his arms into.

Holding his breath, Eddie turned his back to Steve and eased into it.

It didn’t have the give of Eddie’s well-worn jackets, but it was warm. He examined the fit against his body, and definitely not what he thought were Steve’s eyes trailing over his torso.

“Alright, it’s nice,” Eddie admitted, glancing at Steve from under his lashes. “One tip for you, though,”

Steve set his hands on his hips, raising his chin. “Oh yeah?”

Eddie put on his stage smile, wide and bold.

“Black. Always.”

“Can I, uh, get you a pretzel or something from the food court?”

Eddie thought he was surprised that they’d walked out of the store together. And then Steve asked him that.

He stared at Steve, the question echoing around in his skull like a ping-pong ball. And Steve…looked almost nervous, pink tongue darting out along his bottom lip. Between the good will of that snowfall drive and the easy way Steve had stayed at his side this whole time, Eddie didn’t have an answer as quick as he usually would.

He almost wanted to say yes.

But it was less his decision to actually make.

“I really have to get the truck back. My uncle’s shift is starting soon, and I don’t want to make him late…” Eddie turned his shoulder toward the exit.

Steve nodded, lowering his head. “Right.”

“I’m sorry.”

Why was he apologizing? He’d never promised anything. He and Steve barely knew each other.

But maybe it was the somber way he’d made Steve say that same thing he had in his car in that knowing way—when now it was quite the opposite.

Steve recovered quickly, getting his hair out of his face with a quick movement. He put on that subtle smirk of his in the face of the rejection.

“It was nice to see you again,” he said.

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, hearing the vapid state of his reply too late. “I mean, you too.”

Not better, Edward.

But Steve visibly held back a larger smile, rocking on his heels. Apparently, if Eddie wanted Steve not to think he was an utter waste case, he had to interact like a normal human.

“See you around?” Steve asked, pivoting like Eddie had never denied him.

And the mental whiplash had to be the only explanation for his answer.

“Sure.”

Part Three

#steddie fanfiction #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie drabble #steddie microfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #pre relationship #pre season 4 #flirting

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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corrucyst · 1 month ago

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I cought up on autopraxis and the tapestry. Are there anyother mspfas worth a damn?

well if you want more from the girls behind autopraxis, theres bunglers of bloomingdale (short, fun, complete), and 45 Dead Presidents.

sburb.exe is real fucking good, i actually caught up on that one today. i've also been really meaning to start on project BREAK.

karkat goes to a convention is an all-time classic if you havent read it, and a complete story at that. its how i discovered the tapestry in the first place, so it gets extra applause for that alone. its second installment, home-skillet, is also currently ongoing and a lot of fun.

crossmound is for if youre a freak like me whose favorite part of homestuck is hivebent.

ligmastuck. this is a real "just fucking trust me" recommendation.

FEARNØT. if you have any love whatsoever for like, the scene/emo aesthetics, thats fearnot but its specifically filtered through the lens of young kids/teens who were really into that stuff. its also in a traditional comic style most of the time.

egomaniacs. SUPER GOOD ANIMATION AND LOVELY CARTOONY ART STYLE! just a Real Fucking Neat one. updates are slow but its always a fun time.

ok im gonna stop shitting recommendations at you. im realizing that there are, in fact, a LOT of mspfas that are worth any damns. its 2 am snzzzzz

#mspfa

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staticspaces · 4 months ago

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French Style Chateau

Have you checked out the video yet!?

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Now on to the primary suite, this main bedroom was huge, including a massive ensuite with a round stained glass window…as well as a few more photos of the staircase from the second floor!!

This mansion was built in 1985 on two lots in The Bridle Path neighbourhood of Toronto, Canada and was designed to resemble a French style chateau. The 30,000 square foot mega mansion had 10 bedrooms and 14 bathrooms, and was located on a huge four acre property that also included a tennis court. It also had a granite cobblestone driveway, a horseshoe staircase at the back and extensive gardens which completed the experience of living in a castle in France.

Originally built by Robert Campeau a financier and real estate developer. Robert began his career by building just one single house in 1949 in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. His company then known as Campeau Corp was also responsible for building Scotia Plaza, a hi rise built in 1988 in the financial district of Toronto, as well as the Harbour Castle Hotel in 1975. In the 80s, Campeau began a series of leveraged buyouts of companies, both in Canada and the United States. The final company was Federated Department Stores, the owners of Bloomingdale's for $7 billion. This was the beginning of the end for Campeau Corp, as they filed for Bankruptcy in 1990, one of the largest in history. Robert was forced to sell the home in 1990.

The home was purchased in 2002 by Harold and Sara Springer who entrusted architect Gordon Ridgely, interior designer Brian Gluckstein, and landscape architect Ronald Holbrook to bring their vision to life. They brought in 17th century antique furniture from france, original royal academy paintings, Italian marble and even crystal chandeliers.

Other features of the large house included a two-story indoor Olympic-size swimming pool with a retractable floor that converts into a ballroom. It also had an elevator, an oak wood bar, recording studio and even its very own bomb shelter!

The mansion has been featured in several movies including Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen's 'It Takes Two', 'Kissinger and Nixon', 'That Old Feeling' as well as most recently in an episode of Suits. A party was also held for Jane Fonda in the two-storey ballroom, which was then disassembled overnight so that Campeau could swim in the pool the next day with Pierre Elliott Trudeau.

The Springer's listed the chateau for sale including all of its contents starting in 2014 for $25 million and was last publicly listed in 2018 for $39,500,000. Finally, the home was purchased by Nascond Holdings in 2020 for $30.8 million.

Nascond Holdings is a company owned by the Muzzo Group which is a well known development company in the area. Marco Muzzo caused a drunk driving crash that killed four people and seriously injured two others. It was a very high profile incident several years ago, because of his ties to such a wealthy family. There was also a guest list of people found in the home including Marco's name as the host of the party.

The mansion was demolished shortly after my visit in August of 2022. Not much happened after that until more recently when some activity began to happen on the property. Ferris Rafauli who was also behind Drake's Bridle Path Mansion, is the designer and builder behind the new mansion that will take shape in the coming years.

#abandoned #urbex #urban exploring #urban exploration #bandos #abandoned buildings #abandoned places #forgotten #abandoned houses #forgotten buildings #abandoned homes #forgotten places #abandoned mansion #abandoned mansions #mansions #mega mansions #mega mansion #Youtube

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freddiemercurylegendabovelegends · 11 months ago

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Today, on 8th February, 1976 - Queen Story!

New York, NY, USA, Beacon Theater

'A Night At The Opera Tour'

🔸Freddie Mercury was taking tea on the 47th floor of his New York hotel. In his suite. The Royal suite, of course. It was the morning after yet another triumph for Queen - that brilliant and highly original British rock band built around the outrageous ideas and stage presence of the exotic Mr.

Mercury. They had played their fourth concert in as many nights at the battered but fashionable Beacon Theatre, and wvith an album and a single in the American charts, they were riding high.

Warm tea was permitted to slide down Mr. Mercury's regal throat as he prodded gingerly at some nasty looking bruises on the side of his neck.

He explained, My very promising pop career nearly came to an untimely end last night. Two young girls outside the theatre decided to claim my scarf as a souvenir. They quite forgot that it was wrapped around my neck at the time, and they very nearly strangled me. I'm sure Her Majesty doesn't have to put up with this sort of thing. But then, she doesn't have anything in the charts at the moment does she?"

He is a wicked man, Mr. Mercury.

He is also everything that a rock idol is supposed to be, and New York has been quick to recognise this. Like Mick Jagger, Freddie has off-beat good looks. Jagger has those pneumatic lips, and Freddie has the most out- spoken set of teeth ever to have found their way on to a pop fan's wall. He also enjoys the lifestyle of a true superstar - he lives out our fantasies for us far more effectively than we could ever manage to do for our- selves. Even if we had his kind of money.

His dress sense is sensational. He seldom looks less than spectacular, and he is not the sort of chap who believes in going unnoticed. Satin is his favourite fabric, with silk coming a close second. And he loves those loose, floppy, Japanese-style jackets.

But as he is quick to point out, There is a quiet side to me too, you know.

My home life is very civilised, and I hardly ever dress up to watch the tele- vision. Unless I am watching a Royal occasion of course. Then, my dear, it's on with the tiara and the emine ..

the LOT!

But Freddie felt there were better things to do in the city of New York than sit around sipping tea and discussing sartorial matters. He in- vited photographer Terry 0ʻNeill and me to join him on a shopping expedition, and it seemed a reason- able idea. Freddie was his casual self in short fur coat, white satin slacks, white clogs and silver snake bracelet.

The problems we encountered were little ones. Like young girls sobbing softly outside the door of a shoe shop while Freddie sought some- thing for the regal feet inside. And then there was the confusion of the young lady in Bloomingdale's depart- ment store who began to give Freddie a free manicure, only to discover that the nails on his left hand were already painted with black lacquer.

Freddie said, I love America. But l cant imagine ever coming here to live.

Our music is successful over here because it is so distinctively English.

We must keep it that way. I have just bought a new house in London, and an enormous car that looks like a boat on wheels. I could never leave all that.

And I have far too much fun ever to worry about a silly little thing like tax.

I know l'm terribly extravagant.

I always have been. My life these days is one perpetual spending spree. So I suppose l am the sort of person who needs to find ways of reducing tax.

But it's all such a bore. Why don't you buy a pair of these beautiful glitter shoes? They 're outrageous. And they 're cheap. And they re much more interesting than tax, don't you think?

I did think so. But I decided against buying the lurid footwear. You have to be a star to wear shoes like that.

Somebody rather like Freddie Mercury, in fact.

#1976 #a night at tbe opera album #a night at the opera tour #freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #new york #usa

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persphonesorchid · 2 years ago

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Picking Peonies - KSJ

Summary: Roses are outdated, and overused. Bloomingdales even more so.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: COH!Seokjin x reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Seokjin's a bit jealous, that's about it.

Notes: Happy Valentine's to the she's the he's, the they's and the gays. No one asked for this, but lmaooo I am fully aware of the pain I caused with Cupid's on Holiday, so , a gift! For you! Happy valentine's my loves! Also! This is like....if rules hadn't mattered and Seokjin didn't leave like a 🤡. Love y'all ❤️

If you like my content, please consider donating if you're able - Here

Check out my other works - Here

There’s a quiet murmur when you step off the elevator. The heels of your shoes click softly as you walk down the hall and into the space your open office occupies.

The office had been decorated with only a few valentine’s decorations: a string of paper hearts lining every doorway and window pane, red twirling streamers hanging from the vents in the ceiling. It’s only a bit, but you pity the poor soul who would have to go around taking them down – other departments have done a way better job at decorating than yours has.

The soft murmur grows to a buzz and quiets when you step onto the floor and everyone’s head’s turn to you. You stand at the entrance for a minute, feeling a little put on the spot by the sudden attention and the fact that mostly everyone in today is standing around your desk.

Brinny’s head pops up from the gaggle of co-workers crowding your desk, a smile blooming on her face when she spots you.

“Alright you vultures, go away!” The shorter girl waves her hands at your Officemates, “Back to work, shoo.”

Quite aware of everyone’s eyes on you, you walk quickly over to your desk. Immediately, you see what’s got everyone’s attention and why you’re suddenly the star of the morning.

Laying in a pretty arrangement on your desk is a bouquet of flowers. An assortment of Ranunculi in pinks, reds and whites, wrapped delicately in red florist’s paper and tied with white ribbons at the stems. It’s not a large bouquet, but it’s bright enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“I think they’re Bloomingdales... Someone definitely likes you.” Brinny picks up the bouquet, the pretty red paper around it crinkling softly in her hold. “There’s no card...” she frowns, trying to peek into the bouquet.

You smile anyway, not needing a card because you already know who sent them. Seokjin had been busy since the weekend, complaining that Valentine’s Day would be the busiest for him and the other Cupids in the area. You’ve barely seen him for the past couple days, which doesn’t bother you—it does a bit—he has his job to do. The flowers are a pleasant surprise, though, he’d told you not to expect anything until tomorrow because he’d be too busy to do much else.

Even if you’re unsure that he would see it, you text him your thanks and settle down for work.

An hour later, the flowers are sitting in a nice glass vase Brinny found in the store room, and you’re halfway through your emails. You’re gossiping with Brinny about anything you missed while working from home, when your phone buzzes near your hand. The silly photo Seokjin set for his contact lights up on your screen.

“Hey, sweet girl,” It’s a bit noisy where he is when you answer, and for a moment you can hear him talking to someone else before it gets quieter. “That text was vague...what am I being thanked for?”

You make a confused sound in your throat, brows drawing together, “The...the flowers?”

“...what? I didn’t—send me a photo.” Seokjin’s gone quickly after that, line cutting off and you’re left blinking at your lock screen.

You stare at the bouquet for a moment, pondering, before sending a photo of it to Seokjin. You’re wondering who sent it to you. It’s a sweet gesture, that maybe would’ve worked on you three months ago before a certain Cupid came along.

It wasn’t until lunch time, when you’re out of the office. You’re sitting across from Brinny, in a deli close by, as she goes on about upcoming projects. You’re stuffing your face with the most amazing ham and cheese sandwich when Seokjin finally sends his reply.

[12:25] Sharpshooter 🏹: That’s the worst flower arrangement I’ve ever seen in my life.

[12:25] And I have lived.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, dusting your hands before picking the phone up.

[12:26] You: Idkk, I think it’s pretty cute.

The bell on the door of the deli jingles as it opens, a cold gust of February air disrupting the warmth of the deli. You and Brinny are sitting near the back, so you don’t see the person coming your way until they’re right in front of you and speaking.

“Cute?”

You startle at the sudden voice, as does Brinny, who’s gaze flickers between you and Seokjin – who looks like he ran here as fast as his legs could carry him—with raised brows.

“I can’t believe you’d call that assault on my eyes cute. Ranunculus.” He huffs, plopping himself down in the chair next to Brinny, who scoots her chair a little closer to the wall. She nudges your shoe with hers, eyes darting to Seokjin in question. You’ve never told Brinny about him, the only people who know are the boys. Which is — you now realize — why everyone at the office was buzzing around your desk this morning.

“You know what’s cute? Peonies. Roses are outdated and overused, Bloomingdales even more so. What is it, the 19th century?” Seokjin takes a breath, while you watch him, thoroughly amused. He turns his head, finally seeing Brinny next to him, “Hello.”

“Hi?” Brinny laughs out her response, still looking confused. “And you are...?”

Seokjin looks mildly offended, but gives a charming smile, “Seokjin.” He points a finger at you, “Boyfriend.”

Brinny looks confused, then shocked and then she reaches over the table to swat at your arm. “You have a boyfriend?”

There’s warmth flushing your cheeks and ears, but before you can answer, Seokjin is suddenly on his feet again. Saying that he only took a moment to come here, and that he’d see you later before he’s back out the door and out of your sight.

“Where’d you even find that guy? He doesn’t even look real!”

You hum softly to yourself, fitting your key into the lock of your door. Brinny had a bunch of questions you’d barely manage to answer, having to give her a watered down version of how you and Seokjin actually met.

When you enter your apartment, you’re almost sent sprawling to the floor. In your path was the biggest bouquet of peonies you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s a distinct aroma of steak cooking, and the underlying smell of vanilla scented candles.

“Jin?” You call, moving carefully around the bouquet to get out of your shoes. “Did you rob a florist?”

Seokjin pokes his head out of your kitchen, a smirk on his mouth. “No.” He waves you forward with a hand. When you reach him, he cups your cheeks with his hands and kisses you. You chuckle into it, running your fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“You have to admit that peonies are way better.” He says when he pulls away, taking your hand and leading you into the kitchen where he’s set up an early dinner of steak, potatoes and steamed vegetables.

“Just say you’re jealous and we can move on.” You laugh at his rapidly reddening ears.

“I’m not.”

Tags: @xpeachesncream @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @matchy6812 @eoieopda @luaspersona @allhobbitstoisengard @eren-fall @dontstoptime @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna @jinsquishes @minmin2022

#persphonesorchid #Fic: Picking Peonies #Cupid's on holiday au #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts fic recs #bts jin #bts jin x reader #bts fanfic #cupid au #seokjin fluff #jealous Seokjin

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readersmagnet · 7 months ago

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The community of Tampa on the Untold Architectural has expanded both economically and culturally in 36 years with the help of architectural project manager Ronald L. Harden. The Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center, Gaither and Bloomingdale High Schools, the Harbour Island project, Mobley Park, and Osbourne Landing Apartments were some of his projects in Tampa. He also helped build homes, jobs, and cultural events for the city's African-American and other mixed groups, allowing them to improve their own lives.

Visit https://www.ronaldleehardenartist.com/ to learn more about Ronald Lee Harden and his other works.

#RonaldLeeHarden #UntoldArchitectural #ReadersMagnet #ArchitecturalProject #GrowingCommunity

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mrapplianceofbrandonandriverview · 3 months ago

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Mr. Appliance of Brandon and Riverview

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Mr. Appliance of Brandon and Riverview

Since 1996, Mr. Appliance® has been your proud partner for speedy home and business appliance repair throughout North America. Our service professionals are here to serve all your residential washer and dryer repair, oven repair, fridge repair and all other appliance repair needs. When you work with Mr. Appliance of Brandon and Riverview you can trust that our expert technicians will take pride in the cleanliness of their work, going so far as to bring a doormat to your home and wear protective shoe coverings before entering. We provide upfront, clear pricing, and never charge by the hour. We diagnose your repair in person and always provide on-time service and guaranteed work.

The Neighborly Done Right Promise delivered by Mr. Appliance

At Mr. Appliance®, we believe that repairing the appliances in your home is only the very beginning of the job and while it is an important one, it is not everything we want to do. At our appliance repair franchise, we strive to deliver a superior service to all our customers. When you work with our team, you can trust that you will be working with expert technicians who take pride in the cleanliness of their work; that pride is reflected in how we treat you, as well as how we treat your home. For example, we bring our own doormat to the job and put on protective shoe covers before we enter.

A quality home appliance should be built to last. However, as any homeowner can attest, there will be moments when even the best appliances need a little bit of repair and maintenance now and then. Finding the time to do so on your own can be just as time-consuming as any repair or maintenance need you may have.

Instead of wasting time trying to fix things on your own, when you need efficient appliance repair, consider the experts at Mr. Appliance® of Brandon and Riverview for all your appliance repair needs.

Mr. Appliance has been in business since 1996 and offers various appliance repair services to homeowners throughout Brandon, Riverview, Plant City, Sun City Center, and more.

Appliance repair Brandon FL

Appliance repair

Mr. Appliance of Brandon and Riverview https://www.mrappliance.com/brandon-riverview/ ADDRESS: 316 E Bloomingdale Ave Suite #2 Brandon, FL 33511 PHONE: +1 (813) 733-7908

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a1bestwebsitedevelopernearme · 6 months ago

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HVAC Contractors in Naperville Illinois Chicago

#hvacmaintenance #aurora #naperville #illinois

India Heating, Air Conditioning and Refrigeration Heating, Air Conditioning and Refrigeration Services

With over 20 years of industry experience, India Heating, Air Conditioning, and Refrigeration is the service company to call.

Committed to delivering on the best customer care, you can expect a hassle-free, professional, and transparent experience when choosing India Heating for your heating, air conditioning, refrigeration, and ventilation needs.

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Our Mission & Values:

Our mission at India Heating, Air Conditioning, and Refrigeration is to respond to our customers’ heating and cooling needs as if they were our own. About Us Since 2003, India Heating, Air Conditioning, and Refrigeration have provided services in the Chicago region. Since we completed our first project, the industry has seen significant change, but we remain dedicated to offering the greatest products and top-notch customer service, and we always will be.

When seeking HVAC services, we invite you to choose India Heating, Air Conditioning, and Refrigeration. Heating, Air Conditioning and Refrigeration Services Based in Aurora, the company India Heating, Air Conditioning & Refrigeration provides heating, air conditioning, and commercial refrigeration services.

Only the best HVAC professionals are employed by India Heating, Air Conditioning & Refrigeration to repair or replace your heat pump, ductless mini-split, boiler, walk-in cooler, water heater, and air conditioner.

As a result, you can be confident that you’ve found the appropriate place when you search for “A reputable HVAC business nearby.”

India Heating, Air Conditioning & Refrigeration services all HVAC and refrigeration major brands.

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AMC of your HVAC system is essential to ensure that it is running efficiently, safely, and reliably throughout the year. Regular maintenance can help improve energy efficiency, increase lifespan, improve indoor air quality, reduce repair costs, and increase safety.

An annual maintenance check-up typically includes an inspection of the system, cleaning of the system, lubrication of moving parts, testing of the system, and recommendations for repairs or upgrades.

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jwenvs3000w24 · 1 year ago

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Blog 3: Privilege in Nature Interpretation

Hey all! Welcome back to my 3rd blog post and thank you all for joining me on this journey! Enjoy my thoughts on privilege in Nature Interpretation and obviously some pictures as well!

What is privilege? The definition of privilege is a special right or advantage available to only specific people or groups. As an example this could mean that someone who is born in a large city (e.g., New York, Toronto, L.A., etc.) may never visit an untouched natural forest. While, someone born in the country or smaller towns (e.g., St. Clements, Huntsville, Lion’s Head, etc.) might be a 30 second walk from one. This privilege of being able to visit the forests and see them in their natural untouched beauty can cause a very long lasting, and deep impression on someone as a child, which, can help their love for nature grow and be significantly different than someone without the privilege of being able to visit these places on a daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly basis.

A picture of the untouched forest on Flower Pot Island, Tobermory from a boat just off shore. The smaller of the 2 flowerpots is seen in this picture as well.

Some people with the privilege of being in nature at a young age are going to care for it more. Thus, if you have a nature interpretation guided hike or fun activity it is more likely that the people who have had the privilege of being exposed to nature are going to show up to the hike/activity and interact with the event happening, than someone who did not have the privilege of being exposed to nature as a young child.

A picture taken from my grandma's sugar bush. Pails on the trees can be seen and are used for collecting sap for making maple syrup.

I was personally lucky enough to have had this privilege and have a deep interest in nature. Every year, my family goes to my grandma’s house and taps trees to collect sap and make maple syrup, and for many years when I was young I wouldn’t really help that much (oops) and would run around the bush playing in the trees and the ponds that were all around. I also had the privilege of exploring new places such as Snyder's Flats in Bloomingdale, and many trails through the Northern Bruce Peninsula. This privilege allowed me to see many different animals in different events ranging anywhere from a bear trying to break into a dumpster (unfortunately I didn’t get a picture) to water snakes mating on the rocks to feeding flying squirrels from my hand. Many people will never be able to experience these things because they never had the privilege of being in these places multiple times or for extended periods of time.

2 wild baby foxes I saw on my way home from work in the summer time.

Thank you all once again for reading this blog. I hope you enjoyed, and hopefully you join back next week for the next post!

#nature #wildlife #wilderness #fox #maple syrup

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dontforgetoctober3rd · 1 year ago

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Spillways (Chapter 4) A Gilded Age fanfic

Faceclaims for George and Randolph Stewart

Contents: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Word count: approx. 1600

Story Summary: All of New York society is in a tizzy over the news: The Earl of Galloway is in town with his son, the 30 year old (bachelor) Randolph. Marriage-minded mamas are on the prowl but the Earl and his son eschew most of the lavish parties and teas they’re invited to...except to a certain tea with Agnes Van Rhijn and her niece, Marian.

Rating: Everyone (Ratings will be *by chapter*, so subsequent installments might differ in their rating).

Author's Notes: This is a canon-divergence story that takes place a few months from episode 5 of Season 2.

DISCLAIMER: I am not affiliated with The Gilded Age in any way beyond being a fan, I do not own the Gilded Age characters nor am I using them for any commercial purposes or making money from this, this is just basically word fanart of the show

Beautiful divider by @muchomago

Bertha Russell was beside herself with a mixture of fear…and excitement. Fear for Miss Brook, as her reputation was currently being fileted to pieces in the papers. Excitement because Bertha knew she had a solution.

Agnes Van Rhijn had just sent word that she would finally call upon her. This very day. The day of the famous tea all of New york was talking about.

The note had reached Bertha by messenger at Bloomingdale’s. Mrs. Van Rhijn wouldn’t say why, just that it was urgent. The note had not been sealed and no doubt the messenger had read it and would sell his bit of gossip to the highest bidder after this was done. Bertha wagered the note had something to do with Mrs. Blane’s horrid antics. However, this provided an amazing opportunity.

A few days ago, Miss Brook and the young Randolph Stewart (he insisted upon dropping the formality of “lord”, as they were in America after all) had happened upon her and her daughter in the park. The carriage Bertha and Gladys had been using had broken a wheel. Miss Brook had recognized them and Randolph had kindly offered them use of his rented carriage.

What an interesting ride that had been. Apparently Mrs. Van Rhijn had known Lord George Stewart previously, having come close to an engagement with him. Randolph was apprehensive about speaking of the matter so openly to a stranger at first, but Miss Brook had encouraged him that Bertha was a trusted friend. And so she and her daughter Gladys became privy to the saga of their neighbor having a strained history with a Scottish Lord.

This was the chance of a lifetime, and Bertha knew it. She knew what she must do: get Agnes Van Rhijn to mend fences with Lord Stewart. Before the Earl called off his acceptance to their tea later that day, as he surely would, due to Mrs. Blane’s defamatory statements in the papers. If that happened, it would be the death knell for Marian Brook’s place in society but Bertha had every intention of preventing that from occurring.

Many called Bertha a power-hungry social climber, but she didn’t care. If she managed to pull off her plan, Marian Brook would come out on top and one day be a countess! Was it so wrong to want the best for people around her?

Miss Brook had shown Bertha goodwill from the start, despite Mrs. Van Rhijn's edict that Miss Brook shun her, as everyone else had in the beginning. It was time to repay that kindness.

Bertha would get those wretched gossip rags off her back if it was the last thing she did. Miss Brook would no longer be labeled an adventuress and Susan Blane would rue the day she decided to blacken the name of anyone who was her friend.

Gladys was quite apprehensive about her mother inserting herself into the affairs of Mrs. Van Rhijn.

“Mother, I don’t think it wise to meddle with this. The papers are already tearing Marian Brook apart as it is.” Gladys worried, as they hustled into their carriage to hurry home. “They only mentioned us in passing from that day in the park and painted us as desperate hangers on, even now that we have Mrs. Astor’s favor! Don’t you think you will be doing Miss Brook more harm trying to play conciliator between her Aunt and that Lord? We should just offer Miss Brook whatever support-”

“Gladys, my darling. If a friend of yours was drowning, would you merely swim by her and hope she is able to latch on on her own?”

“Well, no, I’d grab her at once but-”

“Exactly. You grab her yourself and drag her to safety.”

“But mother, how-”

“Don’t you worry, I have a plan.” Bertha, smiling as she hastily scribbled a note, handing it back to the messenger before their carriage took off. Agnes Van Rhijn’s own note had asked Bertha to return to her own home at once and wait for her there while she made a few emergency calls.

Bertha had to act quickly but knew now how to get Lord George Stewart’s attention. He was sure to accept her new invitation to her house right away. All she had to do was drop Agnes Van Rhijn’s name.

George Stewart had been looking forward to finally seeing Agnes Van Rhijn once more, but he knew good etiquette demanded he reject the invitation to Miss Brook’s tea now. He also knew that if he did reject it, Randolph would not only never forgive him but would go by himself anyway and he would be left with trying to find a way to meet with Agnes on his own. It was for the best, as George had not looked forward to that blasted tea at all. Having to air out his business in front of an unknown girl and god knows whoever else she had probably invited? No thank you. He should have never let Randolph persuade him to accept the invitation in the first place.

The boy was smitten with Miss Brook and had vehemently defended her when they both read the papers after breakfast early that morning. He was still defending her now, after they had drained both cups of coffee and were on their second.

“You’re really going to listen to the prattlings of a scorned widow? To my knowledge, this Mrs. Blane never even socialized with Marian except for attending a few of same tennis matches. There must not be much going on in New York right now if ballroom gossip is what is making headlines. This is not who Marian is, I assure you.”

“Oh, it’s just ‘Marian’ now? No, ‘Marian Brook’, no ‘Miss Brook’? You have only known her a few days.” George said in exasperation.

“Father, I’m serious. You’re not actually considering it? Rescinding your acceptance?” Randolph asked, coffee cup in one hand and folded newspaper in the other. “Why inconvenience yourself so? You have to meet with her Aunt anyway. Save yourself the headache of coming up with another excuse to see Mrs. Van Rhijn. Do not add fuel to the fire that this Susan Blane ignited against Marian.”

“Randolph, you know I must. It is nothing against Miss Brook. I’ll send a note after my coffee, I need to think of what to say.”

“The rumors will worsen when you reject her invitation!”

“Oh? It’s my responsibility to guard the reputation of this girl? I don’t even know her!” George said with a scoff.

Randolph tossed the newspaper to the side and put his cup down, standing up. George put his own newspaper down and sat straight in his chair.

“Father, I’m disappointed in you. You don’t know her, but I do and she doesn’t deserve what would happen if you decide not to go.”

“Rather harsh to take up against your own father for a girl you barely know.”

“I know enough of her. I know she is kind, empathetic, cares about her family and has unshakeable integrity.”

George raised an eyebrow. “That is enough to defend her from me, is it? Your own father?”

“Enough for more than that, I would say. She is different. Marian talks to me like a person. Not like the future Earl of Galloway. I love her and I intend to ask for her hand.”

“Good god, please tell me you didn’t say that to her! She is American!” George exclaimed. A knock came at their door, his valet answered it while father and son stared each other down.

“I am not an idiot. She is a practical woman and it would have pushed her away telling her too soon. Also, why balk at her being an American? Really? If memory serves, you were almost engaged to one yourself!” Randolph said. He crossed his arms and smiled. “Do you know what I find very funny about this? The fact that you are still bent on meeting up with Agnes Van Rhijn. Father, what do you think is going to happen when it gets out you rejected Marian’s invitation? Mrs. Van Rhijn will no doubt do something about these ridiculous gossip articles herself and when she finds out that you-”

“Excuse me, my lord, but a note has arrived for you.” The valet interrupted. George held out his hand and the note was put in. Randolph rolled his eyes and sat back down, waiting for his father to read it.

“Oh..!” George looked at his son, shock on his face. “Inform her messenger I will leave straight away,” he ordered.

Randolph looked worried. “Father?”

George Stewart rapidly walked to the door while his valet put on his coat and his top hat. “Mrs. George Russell has sent an invitation again. Accepting this one is to my benefit, I think.”

“Why is that?”

“Mrs. Russell says that Agnes is anxious to meet with me at her house, Mrs. Russell’s that is, before the tea. I will see what she has to say before I make a decision.”

“Mrs. Van Rhijn is at her house? Marian never gave me the impression that the two were friends.”

George adjusted his hat. “The Russell house is right across from Agnes’s. If I change my mind, then we can just walk, it will take no time at all. Satisfied with that?” he asked, still attempting to placate his son.

“If you change your mind?” Randolph asked incredulously. “Do you really believe Mrs. Van Rhijn will give you a choice? This is her niece, after all. From what you’ve told me, she will defend her family from anyone. Even the nobility. I think you will change your mind, but I shall wish you luck all the same.”

“We shall see about that. I have my own matter to take up with her, as you well know.” George said grimly, putting on gloves as the footman finished brushing a bit of lint off the Earl’s back.

“Like I said, I wish you luck, father.”

Randolph watched on as his father briefly nodded then hurried away.

#spillways fanfic #the gilded age fanfic #the gilded age fanfiction #the gilded age #hbo the gilded age #agnes van rhijn #marian brook #here we fucking go #its about to go down y'all #next chapter is when Agnes and George will finally reunite I promise

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myhauntedsalem · 11 months ago

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Bloomingdale Asylum

New York

Bloomingdale Asylum was built on land now occupied by Columbia University.

Originally it housed and treated anyone deemed ‘insane’ or ‘lunatic’, but later only took on those who could afford to pay… unfortunately money did not equate to good or humane treatment.

In June, 1771, the Society of the Hospital in the city of New York, in America was incorporated and by 1818 had purchased 26 acres of land in upper Manhattan in order to build an insane asylum. Bloomingdale Asylum began construction and was ready for patients in 1821. At the time it was the only hospital for the care of the mentally ill in the state until another asylum specifically for those mentally ill and ‘poor’ was built on what is now Roosevelt Island.

Bloomingdale then became an asylum for those whose families could afford to pay for the treatment and as such it was regarded as being a place for the best treatment with top of the line staff and facilities… or at least that is what was believed by those on the outside looking in.

The land itself amongst the buildings was beautiful with carefully manicured lawns and gardens. There were orchards, small parcels of farming land and even a few stables and pens as it was considered therapeutic for the patients to work outside in the fresh air.

However on the inside things were quite different. When the asylum was first built and took in patients to treat it probably had everyone’s best interests at heart and the treatment was said to be good but sometime between 1821 and 1872 things had changed and this change was only revealed when journalist Julius Chambers went undercover to investigate the goings on in this now very large institution.

Chambers with the help of some friends and work colleagues had himself committed to the asylum and spent ten days on the inside living as a patient before being released (American Horror Story: Asylum anyone?). In those ten days he uncovered many cases of patient abuse, sadistic nurses and handlers, poor conditions, overcrowding and poor nutrition.

He saw first hand many cases of patients being abused including one man who should be considered a hero. This patient would interfere any time a member of staff abused a patient, this happened so regularly that the staff ended up just tying this hero to a chair and eventually one of the ‘keepers’ took it upon themselves to break this heroes skull…

Patients were often strangled, kicked and punched and it was such abuses that Chambers believed led to many patient suicides.

Another violation saw him witness a woman being committed because she discovered her husband had had an affair. He only allowed her to be released when she promised not to ever bring it up again.

Chambers articles saw many changes come about in Bloomingdale and other asylums including the release of 12 patients who were not insane and a complete reorganization of the administration and staff.

Less than a decade later parts of the asylums land were being sold off as the surrounding city continued to expand and in the end it was Columbia University (then Columbia College) who purchased the majority and soon set to building their new campus. Over time buildings were converted to be later demolished until now there really is only one last building from the asylum days still standing – Macy Villa – now known as Buell Hall.

Macy Villa was the last building built for the asylum and its purpose was to house the richest of their male patients. It was designed so that they could live and be treated in ‘home-like’ surroundings. Although today the wooden verandah is now gone the outside of this building has changed very little.

Other parts of the asylum that still exist are located underground. Many of Columbia Universities buildings are connected by underground tunnels which carry pipes, cables and access ways. Some of these tunnels go right back to the asylum days and the tunnels would have been used for a similar purpose but there are some legends that state patients would be locked down there, chained up underground for misbehaving repeatedly.

It was in fact another legend that had me first start looking into this location a rather creepy legend at that!

In the late 1800s a young girl named Jane Bielawski received a doll as a gift which she named ‘Missy’. Jane lived in a New York Tenement and when some of her friends started die under suspicious circumstances and investigation was carried out. All leads led back to the young Jane Bielawski who seemed to be present at the times of the murders.

When the police attempted to interview the young girl she flew into a fit of terror, blaming the deaths on her doll Missy and even one time throwing it out of her fifth floor window. All questionings went the same way and the with the police certain of who the real culprit was, had Jane locked up in Bloomingdale Asylum.

Jane remained in the asylum system until her death in 1968. Even as an old lady she still maintained that Missy was the culprit of the murders and that she herself was innocent.

#Bloomingdale Asylum #Jane Bielawski #ghost and hauntings #paranormal #ghost and spirits #haunted locations #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem #haunted aslyum #paranormal phenomena #ghosts and spirits #ghosts #spirits

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