#Hotel management group

[stealthmanagementgroup]

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[a-dauntless-daffodil]

For vaggie that spear is her support animal/therapist

For charlie, it's a rival she'd like to throw in lava but can't cause, it's vaggies support 'animal'

silly headcanon plot twist- Charlie's jealously at the spear ISN'T silly or irrational at all, it's a subconscious manifestation of Charlie's desperation for her girlfriend to actually open up emotionally to HER instead of to a WEAPON, confide fears and problems in CHARLIE, and a very frustrated, very also-emotionally-constipated-in-her-own-way Charlie doesn't wanna pin that frustration on Vaggie directly so she deflects all her anger to the spear, which as an inanimate objects, can't get any hurt feelings over this or decide Charlie is too much and dump her

we've done it. we've cracked the silly headcanon and found the angst waiting underneath XD XD XD

or maybe the above is all just what the hazbin crew speculates together, in their weekly "there's no way those two idiots don't have shit going on in their relationship" chaggie hotel gossip meet-ups

[dangerous-disposition]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

It’s WIP Wednesday Thursday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

I was tagged by @pizzaqueen (thank youuuu)

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post.

OKAY now full disclosure, since I use scrivener, the file names are shit like "fanfiction" and they're all in one singular project, and i've titled each individual part of the "project" already except the one thing so y'all are getting titles.

WIPs:

i'll burn that bridge when i get to it

because no one can break my heart like i can

i can't tell where you end and where i start

spent all winter waiting for the sun to arise

the one about dio

Snippet (from spent all winter waiting for the sun to arise, my super self-indulgent modern au fic where Steve has my IRL job and Eddie is a rockstar):

“She has you so whipped, Steve.”

Steve sat on the staging table in one of the banquets storage rooms and eating a plate of leftover food from a buffet they just cleared. They affectionately called this storage room Dustin’s “office” since the banquet server was most often working events and using that staging and storage area.

He gave Robin a baleful glare as he shoveled another scoop of ravioli into his mouth.

“Yeah, dude, why are you even letting her boss you around? Just tell my mom,” Dustin said, popping open a can of soda.

“I’m not gonna tattle to your mom, Dustin,” Steve sighed heavily.

“Yeah, because Nancy Wheeler has you whipped,” Robin repeated, rolling her eyes. “She’s totally taking advantage because she knows you’re still not over her—”

“Okay, first of all, I am totally over her, like one-thousand percent over her,” Steve said quickly, pointing at Robin. “And she said she doesn’t trust the event managers to handle bands or film crews, and honestly? Valid.”

“I don’t know enough about rooms to dispute your expertise in them,” Robin admitted sadly, grabbing another fancy little brownie bite.

“You don’t know anything about rooms,” Steve agreed, smirking at her. “Anyway, it’s one group, and they’ll probably cancel anyway.”

“Why do you think that?” Robin asked.

Steve heaved a big sigh as he settled in to explain as simply as he could. “Half the time bands will cancel, usually because their tour got all fucked up for one reason or another. Anyway, this group is booking their rooms three months in advance. There’s no way they’ll actually come.”

“But you said they’re traveling with a film crew, right? Wouldn’t they have a pretty strict filming schedule?” Dustin asked, and Steve shrugged.

“No idea,” he replied.

“Who’s the band?” Robin asked, and Steve shrugged again. Robin scoffed. “Seriously? You don’t know?”

“I know they’re a metal band. None of the paperwork says the band’s name, and the rooming list has fake names already,” Steve replied. “Typical procedure for higher profile bands, so they might be a big deal. I don’t really care, honestly.”

Just as he finished saying that Steve’s phone started ringing.

“Hey, this is Steve,” he answered without actually looking at the screen.

“Hey, I know you’re on your lunch, but the tour manager called asking about the rooming list,” Nancy said, her tone apologetic.

“Revisit the first half of that sentence, Nance,” Steve said, but he was already putting his plate aside to hop down from the table.

Robin made a whip-cracking noise with her mouth and rolled her eyes.

“I know, just— the tour manager seems really high-strung about it,” Nancy pressed, and she did sound genuinely sorry for calling on his break.

“I’m. On. My. Lunch,” Steve said slowly and deliberately as he waved goodbye to Robin and Dustin, slipping out of Dustin’s office.

“Fine, fine, just make sure you get it done before the end of the day,” Nancy sighed and hung up.

Steve let out a slow breath as he walked back to his office ten minutes before the end of his lunch break.

Tagging......

I know WIP Wednesday is over, but still, I wanna share the love a little bc i love y'all's writing, and absolutely NO PRESSURE: @patchworkgargoyle, @scarcrossdlvrs, @scoops-stevie, @steddieas-shegoes, @afewproblems (if I am adding u belatedly it is ultimately bc last night I was like "I'm missing ppl who am I missing" and my bitch ass was too tired after a long day being Steve From My Fic and getting my hair cut)

[radioconstructed]

// Slow burn radioapple where Al keeps being a menace because that's the best way she knows how to cope with being in crisis, her local Lucifer pushes back bc he shouldn't have to deal with this shit, they keep getting into beef,,, if he's not aware already, he becomes aware that she doesn't get this triggered by anyone else and wonders what the fuck her problem is with him,,

maybe he'll ask her. maybe she'll tell him half. she won't tell him the other half.

maybe he'll figure it out.

[siarahotels]

Siara Hotels & Resorts is a leading hotel and resort management company in India, which specializes in mid market and mid scale hotels & Resorts.

[scribblesoul-20]

Assistant Credit Manager - Finance - InterContinental Hotels Group® Dubai Festival City

Job title: Assistant Credit Manager – Finance – InterContinental Hotels Group® Dubai Festival City Company: InterContinental Job description: Do you see yourself as an Assistant Credit Manager for InterContinental Hotels Group® Dubai Festival City?What’s your passion? Whether you’re into triathlon, exploring new restaurants or dancing the tango, at IHG we’re interested in you. We love people who…

[sydmarch]

went on an (unsuccessful) hunt to try & find somewhere to watch broken tulips yesterday & it led me to have this bizarre lost media caleb dream

[medicinemane]

Man, I'm just kind of dazed today

I woke up yesterday around 9am, didn't do much for the day, went to bed... realized it was too hot to fall asleep (cause my window is broken so I can't open it)

So I got up, filled 3 box with papers as I sorted out the magazines and mail

Then I needed to stay up till after 8am so I could go to the post office to return that bowl. Came back and laid down but... you know when your body just feels wired and you really need to sleep but can't? Probably cause it's pumping out hormones to keep me awake to compensate for me being so tired, that's my guess based on how it feels

Anyway, lay down and kind of drift off with a video in the background, but... I think I was just on the verge of sleep but not able to cross over... like dozing at best

Then I hear Bart making noise and look over and he's acting like he's hunting a mouse, and sure enough he was, so he helps me cup it, and then I go take it to a field outside of town to hopefully live a better life... but clearly wasn't sleeping if I'm doing that

And... I'm still up. I think I'm gonna try and take another crack at sleeping... I hope I can do it. Things do at least feel a bit cooler

But yeah, I'm a mess today, gonna be two days worth of dash to look through whenever I get up, and then I can also respond to the couple messages I've got

But oof... hate feeling like this. The non depressed part of me wants to die just because maybe then I could finally rest

[roscoehamiltons]

i went to look at a couple of vintage/thrift shops after leaving the circuit and ended up stumbling upon a kpop store instead, literally cannot escape lol

[nilehospitalityco]

Radisson Hotel Group has announced the signing of a strategic partnership with NILE Hospitality for growing its mid-scale brand Park Inn & Suites by Radisson in Rajasthan and Gujarat. This move comes as part of the Group’s robust expansion strategy, driven by the growing demand for quality hospitality experiences in tier 2 to tier 5 cities of India.

[thehotelgurusss]

Hotel room block management is a crucial component of event planning, ensuring that accommodations are seamlessly organized for attendees. This service involves reserving a specific number of rooms in a chosen hotel, often at negotiated rates, to provide convenience and cost-effectiveness for event participants.

The key advantage of hotel room block management lies in its ability to streamline the booking process. Event organizers work closely with hotels to negotiate exclusive rates, and a centralized management system facilitates efficient communication with attendees. This approach simplifies the reservation process, allowing participants to book their accommodations seamlessly.

Beyond the logistical benefits, hotel room block management fosters a sense of unity among event attendees. Staying in the same hotel encourages networking and shared experiences, enhancing the overall event experience.

Effective hotel room block management requires coordination with the chosen hotel, negotiation of favorable rates, and the establishment of straightforward booking procedures. Clear communication is paramount, ensuring that attendees receive accurate information and have a stress-free booking experience. Ultimately, hotel room block management contributes to the success of an event by providing a centralized and cohesive lodging solution for all participants. Hotel room block management

[hotelmanagementsoftware]

Planning a wedding, family reunion, or corporate event? We've got you covered! Our Group Booking feature makes it easier than ever to manage reservations for your large gatherings.

Block Rooms with Ease: Say goodbye to the hassle of booking rooms one by one. With our Group Booking option, you can effortlessly block rooms for your event.

Streamlined Invoicing: No more juggling multiple invoices. Now, you can reserve multiple rooms under a single invoice, simplifying your payment process.

Ready to Get Started?

Creating a new Group is a breeze. Just head to the Reservations or Calendar screen, and you're on your way to stress-free group bookings. https://bit.ly/44ouUa5

[siarahotels]

Siara Hotels is a young and energetic hospitality group which aims to live up to its name Siara which means pristine and pure. Siara Hotels is in the journey of establishing to be the finest hotel chain. 

[scribblesoul-20]

Assistant Sales Manager GCC & Government - Sales - InterContinental Hotels Group® Dubai Festival City

Job title: Assistant Sales Manager GCC & Government – Sales – InterContinental Hotels Group® Dubai Festival City Company: InterContinental Job description: Do you see yourself as an Assistant Sales Manager GCC & Government for InterContinental Hotels Group® Dubai Festival City?What’s your passion? Whether you’re into triathlon, exploring new restaurants or dancing the tango, at IHG we’re…

[a-b-riddle]

Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

[thewispsings]

elevators and fears (redbull!driver)

pairing. max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc

summary: redbull!reader gets stuck in a elevator with her teammate, max verstappen, and charles leclerc.

notes. first oneshot of my redbull!reader, hope you enjoy :)

redbull!reader masterlist

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Elevators were a dangerous thing, and you found it strange how underestimated they were. They move at an unsafe speed, it could malfunction at any time, and they get stuck in between floors more often than people thought. 

Being a Formula One driver, constantly traveling around the world meant you spent more than enough time in hotels, which meant, you spent more than enough time in elevators. 

Your fear of elevators wasn't something you talked about often, it was something private, or more so embarrassing. And you didn't want anyone to tease you about it. It would probably be like the time you told Charles you might, sorta, kinda, have a fear of planes. Next thing you knew, you were jumping out of a plane with a parachute attached to your back. Your team thought it would be a good idea so you would, ‘get over your fear’ You didn't talk to Charles and his blabber mouth for two weeks after that.

So when you stayed in hotels, you always took the stairs. You killed two birds with one stone, you worked out, kept your weight down, and stayed away from the death machine. 

Normally you would leave the paddock alone, leaving Max and Cheo there, while you tucked in early.

This time it was different, it was the Mexican Grand Prix, one of your favorites, the culture, the passion, and the fun. However, that also meant that you were worn out by the time the interviews were wrapped up. Max normally wasn't, he could talk with the people at the paddock for hours, but he didn't this time.

He insisted on joining you on the way back to the hotel, you would never deny his company, so together you made your way back to the hotel. It was late at night, the streets were empty, and both you and Max talked as you walked, your managers along with some cameramen trailed behind you two. 

Halfway through the walk, you stumbled across Charles and his team, you three found a pace and walked together all the rest of the short walk.

You were exhausted by the time you arrived, and all you wanted to do was sleep. So politely you said goodbye to your managers, who decided to spend some more time down at the bar.

You were walking towards the hotel stairs, not realizing both Max and Charles were hot on your tail. 

“Where are you going?” Max questioned behind you. 

You paused, closing your eyes tightly before turning to the two men in confusion, you thought they were going down to the bar with the others, “Uh,” you glanced over the elevator, where a group of Red Bull workers, (you could tell because of their shirts) were exiting out of. “Up to my room.” 

Charles tilted his head, “But you were going to the stairs.”

You nodded slowly, taking the time to answer, “Yeah, I thought I would take a quick workout, you know.” 

Max furrowed his eyebrows, he always hated it when you overworked yourself, “You worked out this morning.” “You can never work out enough.” you shrugged. 

“Yes, you can.” Max stood firm.

You two stared at each other for a moment, you saw Charles turn to you, before turning to Max, and then turning to you, he reached over for your hand and took it, walking you over to the elevator, not noticing your horror-filled eyes. You felt Max trail behind you. 

“You guys have crazy tension,” Charles commented as you watched the elevator doors close in front of you, it was like slow motion, it was like the doors were teasing you. 

You hadn't been in an elevator in over three months at this point, you felt your heart drop, you gripped the wall handle tightly, feeling the metal dig into your skin, you took a deep breath trying to stay calm. “Like you and Max don't?" 

Shouts of disagreement came from the two men, thankfully you three were the only ones in the death machine, Max reached over and pressed the ‘9th-floor’ button, “Not romantic tension.” he grumbled. 

“We have romantic tension?” you teased, trying to distract yourself from the feeling of the elevator starting up.

Max glared at you mockingly, Charles stared down at you in concern, his eyes following to where you were gripping the handlebar in what seemed to be despair, your body pressing itself against the wall, “Are you okay?” 

You swallowed thickly, and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I just really wanted to take the stairs, you know…for the workout.” 

“What is it with you and working out? Did someone say something about you needing to lose weight? Because if they did, I swear to–” a blood-curling scream erupted from your lips, interrupting Max’s sentence, when the elevator suddenly stopped, jolting you forward before throwing you back into the wall.

“Holy shit.” you gasped looking up at the flickering lights. “What happened?” you turned to Charles, your voice dripping with desperation. 

The other two men did not seem half as concerned as you, as Charles looked up with a small frown, “Hm.” he hummed, “I think the elevator stopped.” 

Max nodded with an eye roll, “Yeah I think so too.” 

You groaned, sliding down onto the floor with tears welding up in your eyes. This was it. You were going to die. 

Charles instantly fell to the floor with you, questions spewing out of his mouth, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Oh, please don't cry.” 

Max kneeled behind him, a deep frown on his face. “We're going to die.” you whimpered, hands desperately clinging to the floor.

Max shook his head, reaching over to hold your hand, “No we're not.” He pulled you up slowly, "It's just a stopped elevator, we'll be fine.” 

You shook your head vigorously, “No. No. We're going to die. We're going to die in this stupid elevator, and I'm never going to win a world championship, or win multiple champions, or win the most championships.” you groaned, “Oh god I'm never going to win a world championship.”

Charles hid his amused smile behind his hand, “We are going to get out,” he pulled on the emergency button multiple times,” See, they’ll come get us out soon…and you’ll win a world championship. Trust me.”

You shook your head, but didnt say any more, Charles and Max both watched you, holding in their laughs until they physically couldn’t anymore. Charles was the first to break. 

You watched in offense as Charles doubled over in laughter, “Are you laughing at me?”

Charles tried to sober up, shaking his hand, “No. No.” you scoffed rolling your eyes, Charles walked over to you, bringing you into a hug, “I’m not I swear.” he exchanged a look with Max. “It’s just… you’re scared of elevators?” he giggled once more. 

You pushed him off you lightly, “Shut up before I don’t talk to you for two months this time.” 

That certainly got him quiet. 

You looked around the elevator, avoiding eye contact with Max, your palms sweating. “Shut up Max,” you grumbled, hearing him finally break into laughter. 

“How did I not know you are scared of elevators?” he chuckled, you shot a sharp look to Charles, who avoided eye contact.  

“Because the last time I told someone what I was scared of, I was thrown out of a plane.”

Max gasped, a thoughtful look on his face, “I remember that!” 

Normally you would have laughed at the adorable look on Max’s face, but you were too busy fearing for your life. 

“Wait.” Charles butt in, “I’ve seen you ride elevators before.”

You gave him a strange look, shaking your head, “No. You haven’t.” 

Charles hummed, squinting his eyes. Max turned to you with his head titled, “Wait. So you just take the stairs, like all the time?” 

You nod, wondering why the maintenance people were taking so long. 

“Even at your apartment?” Charles gasped. You nod again, “But you live on the tenth floor?” Max’s eyes were wide, he had done that climb, you both lived at the same apartment building, on the same floor, and it was hell. He refused to work out for a week after that. 

“Why do you think my quads are so strong?” You teased, both Max and Charles took a look at your thighs simultaneously, letting out sounds of approval. 

“Wow.” Charles gazed in amazement, “Maybe I should start taking the stairs.” 

“But how come I’ve never seen you take the stairs?” Max asked. 

“Have you ever taken the stairs before Max?” You asked slowly, he shook his head, answering, “Only once.”

“That’s why.” 

The next few moments were silent, you kept your eyes shut, while Max and Charles took the opportunity to take photos of your–what they deemed–‘cute’ face. 

Your freakout was cut off by the sound of loud yells coming from above you. 

“You guys okay in there?” You heard a gruff, muffled voice.

“Yes!” Both Max and Charles coursed, while you did the opposite, “No!” you whispered, clinging onto the wall harder. 

Both Max and Charles stood by your side, rolling their eyes, “We’re okay.” Charles assured the man, “When can you get us out?” he glanced down at you, worried, yes he teased, but he nor Max wanted to see you have a panic attack, which you looked on the verge of. 

“Soon.” was all the man replied before he went silent for ten minutes. 

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Stepping out of the elevator, you had never been so relieved, you had nearly kissed the floor in happiness, although your tear-stained face was more than embarrassing, especially since the firefighter who had got you out, asked for a picture. Perfectly capturing your humiliation. Charles and Max looked perfect, what’s new, but you? Hair Deshilved, eyes red, and a frown on your face. Yeah, you were not going to live this down. By this time tomorrow, everyone will be talking about the elevator incident. 

You had spent no more time than needed before you made your way to your room, taking a quick, hot shower, before slipping on your pajamas. 

You were snuggled into bed, kicking your feet under the sheets, happy to be comfortable and cozy, and not stuck in a metal box.

A knock on your door ruined it. You groaned, swatting off your bed sheets before hurrying over to the door, “What?” you snapped, swinging the door wide open. 

On the other side stood Max and Charles, in their pajamas, holding a pillow in their right hand, and a blanket in their left. You sighed. 

“Can we sleep over?” Max asked slowly, lifting his pillow slightly. 

You said nothing, you just opened the door wider and stepped to the side, the boys shared a smile before practically running into your room. 

You closed the door slowly, letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. 

Walking back into the room, you saw Max and Charles, sitting on the ends of the bed, both wrapped up in their blankets. This wasn’t an odd occurrence. You had sleepovers with them, along with others, for more times than you could count.

Max patted the middle of the bed with a giddy smile. You slipped under the covers, pulling the blanket up to your neck. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. The two boys provided more than enough warmth from your sides. 

“Why didnt you tell us you were scared of elevators?” Charles broke the silence, you opened one eye, peeking up at him. 

“Because it’s embarrassing.” You murmured. 

“I mean yeah.” Max joined, “But you still could have told us,” he glanced at Charles, “Or at least you could have told me.” 

“There’s no point.” you shrugged, “It’s a fear, there’s nothing you can do.”  

“We could have tried therapy.” Charles tried. 

“God no.” you groaned, “The press would have a field day with that.”

Max rolled his eyes, “Stop worrying about the press, they don’t matter, and therapy could help.” 

“Yeah, or like hypnosis.” Charles beamed. 

“You believe in that?” You looked up at Charles with a raised brow, before shaking your head. “It’s fine, guys. I promise.” Although you couldn’t deny how special it made you feel that they were worrying this much about you. 

“How about we try taking it slow.” Charles suggested, “Like a small, one-level trip at a time.” That sounded awful, but if they were willing to help, you had to be willing to try, if you were honest, taking the stairs all the time was staring to become exhausting, even if it did make your legs looks great.

You sighed, nodded, “Okay.” before quickly adding, “But not this week. Next week?” 

Charles laughed, and nodded, “We’ll start next week, right Max?” 

Hearing no reply, you both turned to Max, who had his mouth open, eyes closed, and small huffs leaving his mouth, asleep, “That’s cute.” you whispered. 

Charles scoffed, before letting a small nod of agreement. “I’m cuter though.”