#New York Jets Schedule

[the-football-chick]

[communicationthroughlyrics]

There's No Hope In Endless Winter

Natasha has been gone on a long mission, so when she comes home, she just wants to spend time with you. But, you have news for her.

A/N: Yeahhhh, sorry bout this one- I also couldn't seem to come up with a decent summary sooooo...yeah. It's angsty and not really happy at all. Just kinda sad, all the way around.

TW: Panic/Anxiety, Depression, Reader has a medical emergency

Word Count: 4.5k

With a ghost-like silence, Natasha Romanoff floated into the bedroom of her shared New York apartment. It had been three long months since she had been on her no-contact S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, jetting her across the world to track and assassinate a major drug kingpin after infiltrating his cartel for vital information. She could hardly contain her excitement to see your face again, to feel the warmth of your body in her arms. The room was pitch-black, but even in the darkness, she could make out the familiar outline of their bed. You must have fallen asleep hours ago, presumably exhausted from your work as a personal trainer.

Natasha's muscles ached from the long flight and the countless hours of physical exertion during her mission. She stripped off her clothes, revealing her toned, scarred body, and crawled under the sheets. The bed's softness and the sheets' coolness felt like heaven after so many nights spent on hard mattresses, back seats, and cold floors. She snuggled in close to you, breathing in your familiar scent, and let out a contented sigh. Nat buried her face into the crook of your neck, causing you to sigh. Even though she knew that you were fast asleep, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging in your shared space. 

Natasha being gone always sent your emotions in a spiral. The anxiety and panic that she felt on any given day only worsened as time went on. Your constant worry for your wife would typically result in you holed up in Natasha's room at the compound, drowning yourself in Natasha's clothes, burrowed into her bed until she returned. It was actions like this that had Wanda and Clint checking in with you regularly when they weren't on their missions.

It was one of these check-ins that finally forced a hand for you. Wanda had stopped by, worried because you, her best friend hadn't been responding to her messages or calls. When Wanda went to your gym, the manager said you had been canceling all your appointments. This was highly unlike you, as you had been known as a reliable, punctual trainer. Wanda's attention was piqued. 

"What do you mean, she's been canceling?" an incredulous tone came from the brunette.

"She hasn't shown up for any of her clients for the last week and a half," the manager said, shrugging helplessly. "I've tried calling her, but she never picks up. She left a note on her desk, and has called all her clients herself, telling them they can schedule with someone else."

"When was her last session?" Wanda probed further. 

"Monday," he stated flatly, as he was walking around wiping down some of the equipment. "She was training with one of her regulars and passed out. We sent her home after she refused to take an ambulance. We asked her to stay home for a couple of days, rest, and relax. Apparently, she needed more than that."

This concerned Wanda, so she decided to check on you. She thought you had been doing better in Natasha's absences. As she approached your room, she could hear the soft snores coming from within. Taking a deep breath, she carefully opened the door, revealing you curled up in a ball on the bed. Your usually neat hair was a messy tangle around your head, and you were wearing one of Natasha's oversized shirts. Seeing her friend like this tugged at Wanda's heartstrings.

"Hey Y/N," she whispered, stepping into the room. "You okay?"

You let out a soft groan but didn't stir. Wanda walked over to the bed and gently nudged you awake. "Hey, wakey, wakey. It's me, Wanda. Honey, what's wrong?"

You mumbled something incoherent before burying your face into the pillow, trying to block out the world. "I can't do this anymore," you finally manage to get out. "I miss her so much." 

Wanda sighed, rubbing your back in a comforting manner.

"I know you miss her, Y/N. We all do. But you can't let it consume you like this. You're not being fair to yourself. Natasha would want you to take care of yourself and be strong." Her voice was soft and gentle. "Look at you. You're not eating right, you're not sleeping, and you're not working out. You're not the Y/N I know."

You sighed, looking out the window to avoid the green orbs that were looking straight back at you. "I know," you curl into yourself further. "But, I need her here Wands. I'm scared and alone."

Wanda frowns, sitting down on the bed next to you. "You're not alone, Y/N. You've got all of us. We're your family. We're here for you." She reaches over and takes your hand, squeezing it. "You know that, right?"

You look over at her, your expression softening slightly. "Yeah, I know." You take a deep breath and wipe your eyes. 

"Now, Y/N. When was the last time you ate more than a protein bar or a banana?" Wanda asked, looking at the fruit peels in the trash and the wrappers on your nightstand. "Your boss told me you fainted at work."

You shrugged, "I'm not sure. A few days ago?"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's it. You're coming with me. We're going out to eat. You can't keep living off of protein bars and bananas. You need real food." She helped you up off the bed and led you to the bathroom to wash your face. 

"Wanda?"

"Yes?"

"I don't feel right."

"You're not feeling right because you're not eating right," Wanda replied, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. "Come on, let's get some food and then we can talk about how you're going to get back on track with your training. You're better than this, Y/N." She stops when she realizes that you're standing firm in the middle of your room. You look pale, eyes sunken in, and like you haven't been sleeping. 

"That's not what I mean, Wanda."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...off. Not just because I'm not eating right. Something...else. It's like..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression concerned. "Y/N, do you think you might be coming down with something? You seem to be feeling under the weather lately."

"Maybe," you mumble, rubbing your arm. "I don't know. It's just...weird."

"Tell me what your symptoms are, Y/N."

You sigh, trying to wrap your head around how you've been feeling of late. "It started when I was in the middle of a training session..." you started.

Wanda's eyes widened, "What? You kept going even when you didn't feel right?" You nodded, and her frown deepened. She led you back to the bed, so you could sit down.

"Do you have a fever?" she asked, feeling your forehead. You shook your head. "What about chills?" She glanced at the air conditioner, which was blowing cool air. "No, I guess not."

"Not a fever, but I've been getting terrible night sweats."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Night sweats? That's not good."

You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. "I'm just not myself, Wanda. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What else have you been feeling?" she asked further, rubbing your knee comfortingly.

"My muscles ache all the time. And I'm just...tired." You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "Even when I sleep, I don't feel rested."

Wanda frowned. "This doesn't sound good. You should probably go see a doctor." She paused, looking at you with concern. 

"I'm scared, Wanda."

Wanda took your hand and squeezed it. "Hun, it's just a doctor's visit. It'll be ok." You shook your head, just wanting this conversation to be over. "You probably just caught a bug or something."

The next day, the two of you made your way to the doctor's office, where Wanda sat with you through the entire vitals process. The nurse turned to you after gathering some information and asked you if you wanted Wanda there during the following line of questioning.

"No, that's fine," you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed. 

"So, what brings you in today? Your notes on the check-in sheet are pretty vague."

You took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. "Well, I've been feeling really tired lately. Like I can't sleep, even when I want to. And my muscles ache all the time. It's been going on for a few weeks now, and it's starting to get to me." the nurse jotted some things down, before allowing you to continue. 

"I have been feeling sluggish and sore for 2-3 weeks, I just thought it was me pushing my workouts too far at first."

The nurse nodded sympathetically and continued her questions. "Have you noticed any changes in your appetite or weight?" You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit to Wanda that you hadn't been eating right. "Well, I haven't been eating as much as I should have, but I don't think I've lost or gained any weight." The nurse made some more notes. "Well, Y/N, it does look like you have lost some weight since your last visit 4 months ago. Have you been experiencing any night sweats or fevers?"

You shook your head. "Just the sweats, but not as bad as they used to be." You glanced over at Wanda, who was looking at you with concern. "I've been feeling...off, you know? Just not myself."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes," you stutter. Wanda's eyes shot up at this admission. "I was helping one of my clients use the pulldown machine, demonstrating what I wanted them to do." the nurse continued to take notes, indicating for you to go on. Wanda shifted in her seat as you continued. "I felt a grab in my underarm like I was using the machine wrong," you sighed. "The pain continued throughout the day, and wouldn't go away. I didn't think anything of it till I got home."

"And when you got home, what happened?" the nurse prompted.

"Well, I felt sore all over, but especially my chest, for some reason," you started, Wanda covering her mouth as you recounted what happened. "So, while I took a bath to try and loosen up, I checked both armpits to see if there was something I was missing. I kinda probed and kneaded at my underarms, and felt a large bump, here." you lifted your arm, indicating where you felt the lump.

"And what did the lump feel like?" the nurse asked, scribbling more notes.

"It wasn't hard or anything, but it was...different," you said, struggling to find the words. "It just didn't feel like the rest of my skin." You glanced at Wanda, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and concern. "At first, I thought it was just a knot or something, but it's been there for days now, and it's not going away."

The nurse nodded, making some more notes. "I see. Well, I'm going to have the doctor look at this when we're done with your vitals. Just give me a call if there's anything else you think might be important."

As the nurse left the room, Wanda grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "Oh, hun, I'm so sorry. I had no idea this was going on. Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I thought it was just a knot or something. I didn't realize..." Your voice trailed off as you fought back tears.

The examination room door opened, and the doctor came in. "Y/N, hello," he said, offering his hand. "I understand you've been experiencing some discomfort. Why don't you tell me about it, and we'll see what we can do."

You related the story again, feeling embarrassed but relieved to have someone who seemed to take you seriously. The doctor listened carefully, nodding along, and then asked to feel the lump in your armpit. "Hmm...I'm going to need to get some tests done to determine what's going on here. In the meantime, I want you to rest as much as possible, and avoid any strenuous activity until we know more. Okay?"

"Okay," you replied, feeling a mix of relief and fear. 

The doctor gave you a reassuring smile. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry. We're running your blood and plasma panels, and took a sample from the lump in your underarm." He stood, reaching out his cold hand for you to shake. "We'll run these preliminary tests, and call you with the results."

You nodded, still feeling a little uneasy. As you stood, the weight of the situation began to settle heavily in your chest. You glanced over at Wanda, who was rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, clearly upset. "Are you okay?" you asked her.

"Honey, I should be asking you that," she offered you a weak smile, helping you out of the doctor's chair.

As you made your way out of the clinic, Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. "I'm going to be right here with you, okay? No matter what it is." You nodded, grateful for her support. 

"Wanda?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Is there really no way we can get a hold of Natasha?"

Wanda sighed, resting her head against yours. "I've been calling her all morning, but she hasn't answered. I even sent her a few texts, but when she goes no contact, that means no contact."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken rule. Even though you knew it was for her safety, it still hurt that you couldn't talk to her. You felt so alone like you were the only one going through this.

"I'm terrified, Wanda. I've never felt like this before."

Wanda hugged you tighter, her warmth offering some comfort. "I know, hon. I'm scared too. But we're going to get you through this. We'll find out what's wrong, and we'll fix it. You hear me?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I hear you. Thanks, Wanda."

**

The sun was starting to peek through the blinds when Natasha finally stirred. She pulled you in tighter, realizing you felt considerably thinner than she remembered. You were seemingly dead to the world, breathy snores coming from you as you tossed and turned. Natasha decided she would surprise you, so she quickly rose, kissing your forehead before running to the shower to clean up.

She knew she'd have to tread carefully when she emerged, but the anticipation of seeing your face light up was too much. As she dried her hair, she slipped on her tank top and shorts before padding over to the bed. You were still fast asleep, so she decided to head down to the kitchen, starting breakfast so you both could enjoy each other's company over a warm meal.

Coffee brewed, she laid out a spread of fruit, toast, and eggs. The scent of food wafting up the stairs drew you out of your slumber, unfortunately making your stomach churn. You wondered why Wanda was making you some food so early in the morning.

You padded into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and were greeted by the sight of Natasha, your Natasha, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. She smiled at you, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Good morning," she purred, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "I missed you, babe."

You returned her smile, albeit with an empty one. "Missed you too," you mumbled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Smells great." Natasha frowned at the lack of emotion from you, immediately becoming concerned.

She poured you a cup of coffee and set it in front of you, then sat down at the breakfast bar, watching you carefully. "Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You don't look so well." You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Natasha frowned, not quite convinced. "You're sure you don't want to tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help." You looked up at her, feeling instantly guilty once you saw her expression.

"I'm sure it's nothing, really," You started. "I just...I had some tests done while you were gone."Her face softened as she reached across the counter to take your hand.

"What kind of tests, sweetheart?"

"I don't want to spring this on you right now, Nat. You just got home."

Natasha squeezed your hand gently. "You know you can tell me anything, babe. I'm here for you, through thick and thin." Her eyes pleaded with you to confide in her, and despite your best efforts to keep her out of the loop, you found yourself wanting to tell her everything.

"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "It's not something I want to talk about right now, but I will. Just...not today, okay?"

Natasha nodded, understanding that you needed time. "Okay, hun. Take your time. We can talk about it whenever you're ready. In the meantime, why don't we enjoy breakfast together? It's the least I can do while you're going through this."

"That's okay, Nat. I'm not very hungry. But you can have whatever."

She smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. "Are you sure? I made plenty."

You nodded, forcing a smile. "It looks great, though. Thanks, Nat." You worked your way slowly to the confines of your bedroom, stopping to look at your washed-out appearance. You were pale, your cheeks somewhat hallowed. The dark rings and bags under your eyes made you look like a member of the Addams family.

Natasha followed behind you, still in her tank top and shorts, concern etched into her features. "Do you want me to help you get ready for bed? Maybe take a nap with you?" she offered, her voice soft and gentle. You shook your head. "No, I just want to be alone for a bit. I'll be okay." She frowned, but nodded, knowing that these long missions were always rough for the both of you, and you often needed your own space. As you lay in bed, awaiting the call from your doctor, Natasha called Wanda.

"Hey Wands, it's me."

“Nat! Oh, my goodness it’s good to hear your voice, darling!” she started. “I bet Y/N is so glad to have you home.”

“Actually, Wanda, that’s why I’m calling.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line before Wanda replied, "Oh? Is everything alright?"

"Well, I wanted to check with you," Natasha began, taking a deep breath. "Y/N and I have been together for a long time, you know that. And we've been through our share of ups and downs. But something is going on right now that I feel she's not telling me, and I'm really worried about her."

There was a moment of silence on the line before Wanda spoke. "What makes you think that?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"I just know her," Natasha replied, her voice tight with worry. "She's not herself. She's distant, and I can tell she's not eating. It's like she's carrying a weight on her shoulders that I can't even begin to understand. I just want to help her, you know?"

Wanda was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "I understand where you're coming from, Natasha."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming, Max."

"Because there is, Romanoff."

Natasha winced at the use of her last name. She knew Wanda could be annoying that way, but it still hurt sometimes. "I know Y/N doesn't want me to know or worry right now, but I need to help her. I'm her partner, her support. I can't just stand by and watch her suffer in silence."

There was a long pause on the line before Wanda finally spoke. "I understand that, Natasha. You're a good friend and a good wife. And I know you'll do whatever you can to help her through this." Her voice softened. "But I also want you to understand that this might not be the best time to push her. She's been through a lot, and she needs some time to process everything on her terms."

Natasha sighed, a deep pit forming in her stomach at the thought of what could be going on. "Wanda?" A silence followed before a hum indicated Natasha to continue. "What happened while I was gone?"

"Oh, you know," Wanda replied lightly, her tone belied by the worry in her voice. "The usual. Just the constant threat of nuclear war, a power-hungry megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur, and a team of highly skilled operatives trying to keep the world safe while balancing their personal lives."

"Wanda, that's not what I meant."

"I know, Nat. I'm just trying to make light of a very serious situation. Y/N's been keeping a lot of things bottled up. She needs time to process everything, and I think she's afraid that talking to you will make it all real. She needs you to be supportive, but she also needs her space."

There was another silence on the line before Natasha spoke. "I understand. I'll give her time, but I'm here for her whenever she's ready."

"That's all you can do, Natasha. That means a lot to her, I know it. And if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Max."

Wanda's voice was soft, bidding Nher a good day. Natasha could hear the genuine concern behind it. She knew that Wanda would be there for her and Y/N, even if she wasn't always the most subtle about it. They were both so different, but they had been through so much together. They had become a family of sorts, even though they were all from different worlds.

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness, like she was floating in the dark, searching for a lifeline. But she knew that she had to be strong for Y/N, even when she felt like she was about to crumble herself. Setting her phone on the counter, she put away all the food before heading towards the living room, sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee, contemplating what you could possibly need to tell her. After what felt like hours, she went to the bedroom, gently knocking on the door.

"Hun, do you mind if I come in?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. There was a pause, and then she heard the click of the door opening. Natasha stood in the doorway, taking in your eyes red and puffy from crying.

"I, uh... I was just about to take a nap. Do you want to join me?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. She walked over to the bed and sat down gently beside you.

"I would love to, sweetheart," she breathed deeply, reaching her arm around your shoulders. "But first, I need to know that you're okay." The statement makes your heart clench, knowing that you are worrying Natasha after such a long and strenuous mission when she should be relaxing and enjoying her time with you.

"I'm... I'm as okay as I can be, I guess," you mumble, your voice still hoarse from earlier sobs. "It's just... a lot, you know? A lot to process." Natasha nods, pulling you closer as she wraps both arms around you.

"Darling, what is a lot to process?" Natasha's voice was soft, almost tentative, and you could feel her heart beating against your back as she held you close. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before speaking. You were spinning your cell phone in your hands, nervous to tell your wife what happened while she was gone. 

"Let me start at the beginning, Nat." you lay your head on Natasha's shoulder, ready to detail all that led up to your phone call this morning.

As you speak, Natasha holds you close, occasionally kissing the top of your head or running her fingers through your hair to offer comfort. She listens intently, her expression shifting between surprise, confusion, concern, and anger as you recount the events that unfolded while she was gone.

When you finish, there's a long silence as Natasha processes the information. You can feel her heart racing in her chest, and she seems to be struggling to find the right words. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says, "Oh, sweetheart." Her voice is full of empathy and understanding, but there's also a note of worry. "What did the doctors say was the result of your tests?"

Your eyes tear up, as your lip quivers. You get up and go to stand across the room from your wife, afraid to let her see you so vulnerable, so weak. "I have breast cancer, Nat."

Natasha's face falls, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh, Y/N," she whispers, taking a step toward you. "My baby, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you." Tears begin to stream down her face, and she reaches out to hold you, but you flinch, taking another step back. "I'm here for you. No matter what. I love you, and I'm here to help you through this. In sickness and in health, remember?"

You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. "I just... I don't know how to do this. How am I supposed to fight this? And what about us? What about our future?" Your voice breaks on the last word, and you sink down to the floor, buried in a ball, unable to hold back the sobs that have been building inside you since you first heard the news.

Natasha rushed to your side, quickly scooping up your body and holding you impossibly close. "Honey, our future isn't in question. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," she whispered into your hairline, kissing it.

"But, what happens if you get sent out on a mission again? What happens if you don't come back to me, Natasha? I can't do this without you."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, holding you as close as she possibly could. "Y/N, you are my whole world. I would never abandon you. You are my priority, now more than ever. We will get through this together. No matter what. I promise." She paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I know it's scary right now, but we'll find the best doctors, we'll get the best treatment. And we'll fight this together. You're stronger than you know, and I'm right here by your side, supporting you every step of the way."

You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve, and leaned into her embrace. "I'm scared, Natasha. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave us."

Natasha pressed her lips to your forehead, her breath warm against your skin. "I know it's hard, baby. But you're not going to leave me. You're going to fight this, and we're going to fight it together. We're going to beat it, okay? She held you there for what felt like an eternity, rocking you gently back and forth. "We're going to fight this together, you and me. We're going to be strong, and we're going to get through this. I promise you, Y/N.“

READ PT. 2 HERE

[visit-new-york]

Does Brooklyn Bridge Park Have Any Family Friendly Amenities or Play Areas?

Brooklyn Bridge Park, nestled along the East River with stunning views of the Manhattan skyline and the iconic Brooklyn Bridge, is not only a picturesque destination for adults but also a haven for families seeking recreation and relaxation. As one of New York City's most beloved waterfront parks, it boasts an array of family-friendly amenities and play areas that make it a perfect spot for parents and children alike.

Playgrounds:

One of the standout features of Brooklyn Bridge Park is its well-designed and diverse playgrounds. The park offers several playgrounds tailored to different age groups, ensuring that children of all ages have a safe and enjoyable place to play. The Main Street Playground, for instance, is equipped with state-of-the-art play structures, swings, and climbing equipment that cater to both toddlers and older kids. The imaginative designs and incorporation of natural elements make these play areas not only entertaining but also stimulating for young minds.

Water Features:

For those hot summer days, Brooklyn Bridge Park provides refreshing water features that are perfect for family fun. The Water Lab, located at Pier 6, offers a dynamic water play space with various jets, sprinklers, and fountains. Children can splash around, cool off, and engage in water play, creating a delightful and memorable experience for families visiting the park. It's important to note that the Water Lab typically operates seasonally, so visitors should check the park's schedule for availability.

Sports Facilities:

Families who enjoy sports will find Brooklyn Bridge Park to be a fantastic destination. With multiple sports fields, including soccer, basketball, and volleyball courts, there are ample opportunities for friendly matches and sports activities. These facilities cater to a range of age groups and skill levels, encouraging families to engage in physical activities together.

Picnic Areas and Food Options:

Creating a perfect family day out involves more than just play areas. Brooklyn Bridge Park provides numerous designated picnic areas equipped with tables and benches, allowing families to bring their own meals or purchase food from nearby vendors. The park also hosts a variety of food concessions, ensuring that families have convenient access to refreshments while enjoying the scenic surroundings.

Events and Programming:

Brooklyn Bridge Park regularly hosts family-friendly events and programming throughout the year. From outdoor movie nights to concerts and educational workshops, there's always something exciting happening in the park. Families can check the park's official website or event calendar to stay informed about upcoming activities suitable for all ages.

Conclusion:

Brooklyn Bridge Park stands out as a premier destination for families in New York City, offering a wealth of family-friendly amenities and play areas. From thoughtfully designed playgrounds to water features, sports facilities, and engaging events, the park provides an ideal setting for families to bond, play, and create lasting memories against the backdrop of the city's skyline and the iconic Brooklyn Bridge. Whether you're a local resident or a visitor, Brooklyn Bridge Park is a must-visit destination for families seeking a delightful and enriching experience.

[deansdelicate]

I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER III: TRYING NOT TO FEEL IT

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [9.6K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, slight mention of anxiety, pining and two idiots flirting not so subtly <3

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: You and Seth's paths are intersecting deeper than any of you anticipated. With a new storyline set to begin, it leaves you both filled with a yearning to know if it only ever will be platonic, even if biting the forbidden fruit is only just mindless dreaming.

Another week came with another Monday, and this time for you it meant not just being on screen, but finally getting the chance to work behind the scenes with one of your storylines being rolled out on Raw.

You were mentally ecstatic, finally getting a chance to be in your own element behind the camera, but your body told an entirely different story.

Exhaustion infested your bones, and the last thing on your mind was getting to TV, because all you wanted to do was sleep the day away. Your body was facing the consequences of the constant travel combined with jet lag that you were positive you’d never get used to.

Getting directly off a red eye only made matters worse, muscles aching with heaviness and longing desperately for your bed to make it all go away. The drive to the hotel offered limited solace, especially with the hustle and bustle of the city—road rage and honking keeping you up through the morning traffic jam during the stretch of time where you wanted to cram in more sleep.

Instead, you found yourself staring mindlessly out the window, taking in New York city through the tinted pane, zoning off into secret gardens in your mind, escaping into your thoughts, trying to get away from the chaos pulling you back.

And then, suddenly, everything shifted. The noise of the city seeming to fading into silence as a familiar name cut through the stereo’s hum.

“Welcome to the morning show. We’re joined by none other than the man and my personal favorite wrestler, Seth Rollins. How you doing, man?”

You perked up in your seat, a small smile becoming evident across your sleepy features, when his voice finally hit your ears.

“I’m doing great, looking forward to sight seeing the big apple after this. Thanks for having me.”

His voice sounded a little hoarse, fatigued from matches, the grueling travel schedule, and on top of that, having to do media in the early hours—nevertheless, it seemed as though he was championing it a lot better than you were. Clearly he was a veteran of the fast life already and you desperately needed to play catch up.

For the rest of the drive, you found yourself not only wide awake, but clinging to his voice as if he was the stimulant keeping you up. His laughter and quick wit filling the car, making you giggle despite his physical absence, that felt as if he was right there next to you all along.

You laid back, listening intently to the rest of the radio show. Eyes half closed as Seth talked about his run with Dean and Roman, his favorite matches he’s had, and some of the memorable cities he’s visited. He had so many stories to tell, and you surely wanted to pick his brain apart just so you could hear all of them and get to know him a little better.

“One last question before we let you go: Triple H’s daughter…” the radio host started curiously.

Seth hummed pleasantly, and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“What a debut am I right?” He spoke with a mixture of pride and affection.

Your stomach twisted into knots, teeth digging softly into your bottom lip as you tried to hold back a smile that you didn’t even realize was creeping upon you so feverishly.

“The pop she got was insane! What do you think about her so far?” The interviewer pressed for more, and suddenly you felt yourself becoming interested as you waited for Seth’s response.

“I mean other than being extremely impressed, I think the company is going to be in good hands when Triple H feels ready to pass the torch onto her.” Seth’s voice softening with sincerity as he went on.

“She’s a hard worker, and she’s hilarious, and she’s completely selfless.” Seth said, honestly.

“Any chance we can see you two working together?” The interviewer prodded, a teasing tone in his voice.

Seth laughed lightly. “Oh man, I don’t know what the future holds, but if there ever comes an opportunity, I would love to work with her.” He admitted, making you feel giddy all over as you hung your head and tried to fight the smile.

“You heard it here first, ladies and gents…”

His voice was like a looped track echoing over and over again in your mind—the cadence of every answer memorized like the melody to your favorite song.

And even then, when hours passed, you couldn’t help but still feel warm all over just thinking about all the generous things he had to say about you. It was one of the qualities you admired about him the most despite the short measure of time you knew him for. All of things he said to your face, was the same things he said when you weren’t around—a kind of authenticity that was rare to come across.

Music blared through your phone speakers, resounding off the bathroom walls where you found yourself conflicted as to why you still couldn’t shake Seth’s kind words even after the time had passed. Everyone else had met you with the same kindness that he showed you, but not in the way that left you reeling the way Seth did.

But before you could ponder it any longer and get too in your head than you already were, a knock echoed against your hotel door, prompting you to pull back from the bathroom mirror and hit pause on your phone’s music, strolling over and taking a peak through the peephole to see who it was.

You grinned, unlocking the door and opening it wide to reveal your dad on the other side, already dressed in his suit ready to head out to the arena.

“Hey honey,” He embraced you in a hug before you stepped aside, letting him step into your room, “What time did you get in?”

“A little after nine,” you replied, retreating back to the bathroom to finish up your makeup and you continued to talk, “I checked in and decided to nap. I nearly slept through my alarm, but I’m all rested now.”

Originally, you both had planned to travel together, as you often did when arriving in new cities. But your dad had to cut his weekend short, heading out the morning after your sister’s birthday to join the crew because they were short a producer for the local house show. Knowing your dad, you had mentally begun preparing for more solo trips, seeing as though he was always prone to travel changes now that he was the big boss in charge.

“I forgot to ask, how was dinner last Friday?” He leaned against the doorframe, changing the subject after realizing over the weekend you hadn’t talked about work at all.

You barked out a laugh, trying not to poke your eye out while you combed the mascara through your lashes.

“The food was delicious, and everyone was great. They’re all really nice and welcoming—I even told them about the whole ‘suck it!’ car gate situation.”

Your dad smiled upon hearing you talk about the night so up beat, relieved that you were making friends with everyone since you were going to start seeing them more often than not.

He knew that being on the road meant the constant change of scenery, which in some ways were great for your writing process, but it also brought a certain kind of loneliness with not having any established friends around to keep you company—but thankfully that was all starting to change.

“That’s nice. I’m glad you’re feeling a bit settled.” He chuckled with satisfaction, happy that you weren’t miserable on the road after all the convincing he had to do to get you on board.

“Nepotism apparently makes great conversation starters.” You quipped finished up your mascara.

Sure, you loved being in the comfort of your hometown where you grew up and where all of your family and friends were just a drive away when you needed to see them most. And it certainly wasn’t easy coming to terms that your new job meant a lack of permanence but you knew you could adjust with the more time that went on, and you were positive that you could balance your home and the town you were a guest in.

“I actually wanted to talk about your final storyline,” He paused for a moment, catching your eyes in the mirror’s reflection as you stared anxiously.

“I read through it and man…it’s good.”

Your dad smiled proudly, prompting you to squeal mainly out of relief and clapped your hands frantically. He didn’t know why you were so nervous when he was constantly in awe of everything you created, even since you were a child with a rapid imagination that he couldn’t even keep up with.

“I honestly thought you’d hate it because it’s so work.” You whispered, reaching for your powder compact and a brush, beginning to swirl the bristles into the product and tapping the excess off.

“Does it require me to do a little more work? Yeah.” He laughed, as you half rolled your eyes, gliding the brush across your face as he went on.

“But I think if we do some chemistry reads with the superstars we can find the right fit. And if not, then we’ll put a pin in it. It’s still a good script. We just need the right people to play it out.”

You were pleased with his feedback, and if anyone knew creative direction as well as you did, it was your father. You trusted him enough with your ideas, and he respected them all to want to ensure they were brought to life as vividly as they could be.

You both were like the perfect little dream team, and you couldn’t have been happier to have the best boss and father in one person.

“Look at you using my director lingo.” You mocked with a smirk, tipping the brush at him while he rolled his eyes.

“Hurry up and a pin in this,” He retorted, gesturing to the messy bathroom counter, “We’ll drive down to the arena together.”

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you in the lobby?” You replied, getting up close in the mirror to see if you needed any last touch ups.

“Preferably in the next ten minutes.” He scoffed, shooting you a knowing look as he pressed off the door frame.

“Shoo!” You waved him off with a grunt, and he snickered his way out the door, leaving you to it.

Arriving at the arena a few hours early was far better than the early morning drive that consisted of bumper to bumper traffic, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss Seth’s voice over the radio to listen to throughout the way.

You guessed it was just you being a little self absorbed, loving the way he spoke about you, but you decided to steer clear of thinking too much of it because no way did it mean anything deeper than him just being a kind person.

As you and your dad pulled up to the arena, you both rolled down the windows of the car, waving hello and smiling for pictures with fans who waited outside the parking garage gates. Heading inside, you and your dad went separate ways, you dropping your stuff off into your office and heading to set where you were going to be working behind the camera.

The camera crew and sound engineers were already getting set up in a quiet hallway, where the lights were purposely dimmed for dramatic effect. You took it upon yourself to say hello and catch up with everyone as you got mic’d up and helped frame the shot for the pre-recorded promo that would air later in the show.

Soon after, you felt a tap on your shoulder, and there towered over you the one and only Braun Strowman.

“Hey! You excited?” You said eagerly, removing the headsets from over your ears and letting them rest around your neck.

“You know I am.” He rubbed his hands together before giving you a small side hug.

Braun was still fairly new to the main roster with no big storyline or arch that truly set him apart from everyone else except his stature and strength. But ever since you had been tuning into the show for your storyline research, you knew wanted to develop him into a more prominent character and you were glad your dad approved of what you thought up for him.

“Did you want to change anything about the promo?” You asked, grabbing your binder to pull up his script.

He flipped through his copy, looking at you skeptically with a shrug as he pointed to a specific section.

“I’m sorta confused about how I should play this part.” He confessed, hoping you wouldn’t take his critique the wrong way.

You nodded, flipping to the same page as him and reading it to yourself to refresh your memory of what you had planned. You reassured him with another nod, retrieving a red ballpoint pen for edits as you waved him over to a nereby cart where you two could go over what he wanted to change.

“Do you want to go through it and then we can feel out what you want to change?” You suggested, already beginning to make notes in the margins of the script.

“You sure?” He rose his brow, expecting you to tell him to do what he was asked, instead of trying to wiggle his way into the writer’s room.

“Of course!” You nodded, and he began to get into the parts he required more clarity on and the suggestions he had for his character.

You two spent a total of fifteen minutes, revising and going over the script, and much to his surprise, and the entire crew who were listening in, you took every single suggestion with stride and trusted Braun completely to do what he felt resonated with his character and the overall promo. All the edits and suggestions he made were approved, and you were happy he felt comfortable enough to come and tell you why he felt it was right to do so.

You watched closely on the monitors as Braun stood in front of the camera, situatating himself on his mark, before you peered past the lens and counted him down.

“Okay, we’re rolling in 3…2…” your voice died out, giving him the thumbs up and he began his promo.

Seth watched from the opposite end of the hallway, not paying too much attention to the words leaving Braun’s mouth, but more so the sight of you looking as if you were in your natural habitat. You silently helped the camera man pan in different directions as you followed Braun’s movement and gave him cues to speak louder or pause.

Usually in pre-taped segments or promos there were a lot of stopping and reshooting, most times because the producers wanted it absolutely perfect. However with you the process seemed a lot more laid back. A less stressful environment that they were used to back when Vince was around constantly picking apart everything to the point where everyone felt like they didn’t have any say whatsoever.

“And cut!” You announced out, clapping your hands as Braun relaxed up and came back around the camera to see what you thought.

Seth watched as you two exchanged a few words and nods, happy with the product that it didn’t need another take, so the crew began to clear out. You embraced in a quick hug, patting his back, before you spun around to get your mic and ear piece removed.

Seth then made his way to you, brushing past Braun in the process and giving each other a handshake before the giant went down another turn in the hallway.

“Hey, hey Ms. Director.” He chirped happily, getting your attention.

A smile immediately crossed your features, looking over your shoulder while your fingers fidgeted behind your back removing your mic and handing it off to a stagehand.

“Hey you,” you grinned, arms crossing over your chest, glad that he was stopping by to say hello.

“How was the sightseeing?” You eyed the wristband wrapped around his joint, the same one you recognized from the other superstars you ran into who had the pleasure of sightseeing the Statue Of Liberty after media this morning.

Seth rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, frowning somewhat, “Gotta be honest with you, it was pretty anticlimactic.” He confessed, causing you to laugh lightly with a scorn.

“You didn’t happen to get one of those ‘I Heart New York’ shirts did you?” You joked, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“They did try to sell me one.” He retorted with a point of his finger.

In some odd way, the familiar knots that formed in your stomach when you listened to his voice over the radio were back again, only this time they kept you grounded, beaming warmly at him as warmth flushed over your skin. You knew it was nothing other than pure appreciation, guessing that if it was anyone else who said the things he did about you, you would be feeling the exact same emotions.

“Thanks for putting me over this morning.” You finally broke the momentary silence, politely reaching out to rest a cordial hand over his arm before dropping it back to your sides swiftly.

He thought for a moment, lifting his brows unknowingly not knowing what you were talking about before realization crossed his face. “You heard that?”

You giggled, nodding as you tucked your cheek into your shoulder. “It helps when you have a driver who only ever listens to the local radio.”

“Well, I meant what I said.” He said sweetly, watching you nod, before looking down the hall.

“Your dad wants to see me in his office. It’s about some chemistry read?” He supposed curiously, wondering if you knew what it was about.

You tilted your head, surprised for a quick second that your dad thought of him for the male lead, but you understood why—especially when he possessed the talent for it.

“It’s my final assignment storyline.” You revealed, wringing your hands together nervously, hoping he would like the script when he read over it himself.

“Really?” He was stunned, thrilled to read what you had after learning about it last week. “ I guess I really gotta nail it.” He cracked his knuckles and stretched his neck comically.

“I’ll see you, Seth.” You waved.

“See you,” He nodded, heading in the opposite direction.

You thanked the crew who were still hanging around, before setting off to your office to relax and answer some emails prior to the show starting. To your surprise, when you got there Xavier and his buddies Big E and Kofi were lingering around and immediately perked up when they saw you coming around the corner.

“Ah, Ms. Levesque! I’ve been searching for you,” Xavier stood, holding his arms out excitedly as he did a curtsy.

“What can I do for you Mr. Woods?” You said in your best English accent, bowing slightly making them laugh.

“So I don’t know if you know, but I run a YouTube channel called UpUpDownDown.” He explained, and you nodded enthusiastically, pointing to him.

“Yeah! You had my mom and dad on there, right?” You laughed to yourself, remembering the time you stumbled upon the videos and proceeded to tease them about how not so tech savvy they were these days.

“Oh, man, you really did do your research.” He complimented, happy that you had a jist of what he did outside of the ring.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming on the show? I think the fans would really love it, plus I’m always looking for new people to game with.” He shimmied his shoulders, hoping you would be down for the opportunity.

You grinned, immediately nodding, “Do you have Mario Kart?”

“You know I do.”

“Then I’ll be there!”

You invited them into your office so that you and Xavier could sit down and go over a day to film the content. You both settled for the upcoming week during on an off day where there weren’t any scheduled house shows or media to get in the way and cut the day short. The three were incredibly funny and made you feel extra included which was great because you wanted to form friendships and bonds, not just soley being the new writer or boss’s daughter.

You were thankful that Xavier thought about you for his side hobby that he was incredibly passionate about, and it gave you the perfect excuse to sit back and relax without worrying about work. Soon after they said their goodbye’s, a knock echoed on your door and the familiar voice rang through on the other side.

“Ms. Levesque?” It was Eddie.

You went to open it, smiling when you saw him. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Your dad wants to see you in his office.” He informed you, pointing down one side of the hallway as you stuck your head out.

“Did he say why?” You peered over at him and he shook his head with a shrug.

“Apparently, it has something to do with the chemistry reads, but that’s about all I know.”

“Okay, thank you.” You figured it’d be best to head to your father’s office first to see what he needed then get changed for the show.

“When you’re done, meet me in catering. You have some posters that need autographs, and we can catch up.” He offered with a smile, and you nodded.

Coming across your father’s office, you turned the knob, letting yourself in, assuming it must have been urgent if he sent Eddie as opposed to shooting you a text.

“Are we putting a pin in—hey!” You greeted, suddenly taken aback, with the setup in front of you.

A few creative members and producers sat along the elongated table with a camcorder set up on a tripod facing the opposite wall where none other than Seth sat, passing you a welcoming smile as he looked up from the script in his hands.

You smiled tightly, giving him a timid wave before peering over at your dad.

“You really weren’t joking when you said chemistry reads were you?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he handed you another copy of the script.

“Have a seat, sweetheart.”

Your dad pointed you towards the empty chair next to Seth and with everything happening so abruptly, you didn’t question his instruction and went right ahead and made yourself cozy next to the superstar.

“I want you to read from the first page to right about halfway through the second.” Your dad directed you, and you nodded, beginning to go through the lines that were practically seared into your brain from all the proofreading.

You and Seth both gawked over at your dad, waiting for his cue as he fidgeted with the camcorder, hitting the red button before giving you both a silent nod and a thumbs up.

“Isn’t there something bigger you should be chasing after? Like WWE Championship for instance?” You began, eyes looking up to meet Seth’s.

He chuckled, shaking his head, wearing a maniacal grin. “If you have already forgotten, let me remind you…I’ve already held the most prestigious championship in this company. I’ve carried this company on my back, and even when my knee gave out, I came back to reclaim what I never lost, and now I want something else.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to decode what he meant. “I can’t give you what you won’t say.”

“I’m looking at her.” He whispered, staring at you deeply as if you were the only person around.

Before you could get lost, a look of disgust covered your face, as you pulled back from him scoffing begrudgingly.

“You don’t possibly think I would want anything to do with you do you? I have my priorities straight and I don’t need you getting in the way of them.”

As Seth’s lips parted, getting ready to read the next line, your father cleared his throat, holding his palm up in the air and stopping you both as you looked in his direction.

“Now I want you both to improvise. Keep it rolling…” Your dad declared, guiding his hands in a tumbling motion and you both nodded getting ready to proceed.

Seth tsk’ed, fingers rolling up the script, as he tapped it against his leg.

“Haven’t you ever thought about it? The prodigy of Triple H, myself, and his genius daughter. What’s not to like about that?”

He smirked, looking you up and down before you promptly cut in, trying not to feel the warmth of your blood seizing in your veins. It was just improvising.

“You’re power hungry. Need I remind you this time that my father only did what he did because he wanted what was best for business? And sure, it might have gotten you high up that mountain, but it came crashing down just as fast when your loyalty meant nothing to him.” You retorted sharply, watching his smirk fall into a hurt expression.

“What makes you think I’m still that man? I changed, I became better, and I am better than I ever was before.” His voice suddenly held a gentleness, as if he was trying to prove himself to you.

You stayed indifferent, pressing yourself forward as you spoke with a sternness he couldn’t look away from.

“You’ll get clouded by that same power hungry haze sooner or later. You’ll never be able to outgrow the man that stabbed your bothers in the back with a steel chair, the man that sold out for his own success, and the man who reclaimed it all not because he was destined to, but because you care all too much about proving you aren’t who people think you are because you’re scared it might truer than you think.”

You both held eye contact, searching each other’s eyes for a fleeting moment all before a faint applaud broke the scene and caused you both to grin and look over at the table and your father who seemed rather fascinated with the chemistry you had.

“Was that any good?” You bit down on your lip anxiously, hoping their applause wasn’t strictly out of pity for your mediocre acting.

Your father stopped the recording, passing you a sly and proud nod.

“If I say ‘yes’ does it mean that you’re okay with starring in your own storyline with Seth?” He responded with a convincing expression.

Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”

He nodded and chuckled, walking around to stand in front of you both.

“We couldn’t find anyone who meshed well with the script playing opposite of Seth. Originally, I was going to put a pin in it, but I figured I might as well give you a shot before I called it off.” He explained.

“I mean, if it’s okay with you then I’d be glad to do it.” You sputtered, looking over at Seth with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

The superstar immediately nodded, washing away your initial worry about him needing to work with a rookie like you. It was safe to say that you were clearly still getting used to be on camera, and you didn’t want to hinder the path of Seth’s career that was on a steady incline.

“I’d be dumb to turn this down. I would love to work with you on your very own storyline.” He grinned, your knees knocking into one another when he reached out for you to shake his hand as if you both were sealing the deal.

You clutched his softly, his hands giving yours a tender yet encouraging squeeze before you released at the sound of your father clapping his hands.

“Well, it’s settled…do you guys want to start tonight?”

Your eyes widened, looking at him in disbelief “T-tonight?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, knowing you and Seth’s characters needed a little revamp, a different storyline would help a ton, “A little run in segment in the middle of the show. It’ll be great for your character and we can get the ball rolling on this thing.”

“We can work something out before the show,” Seth suggested, pulling out his phone to check the time, flashing it to you, “We have plenty of time.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds somewhat reassuring.” You gave him a small smile, turning to your dad. “Do we have to hit anything specific?”

“The audience should know you know about him and his history, and that you aren’t too fond. That’s about it.” He looked back at the table of producers and writers who agreed.

“Wanna meet in my office in like ten minutes? I just have to get changed.” You looked down at yourself, still dressed in jeans and a fitted tee, plus some sneakers.

Seth nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I’m gonna head to catering for a little and I’ll come right over.”

You both got up, taking a moment to say thank you to everyone who approved of your script to get it this far this early. Seth took an extra moment to give his thanks to your dad who picked him out of the many superstars that could’ve fulfilled the role instead. As you exited his office, you pointed Seth down to where he could find you before you both waved a quick goodbye.

Seth had a smile glued to his face on the walk to catering, pleased that it was you who he was working with on a storyline that frankly was entirely different from any other he worked on in the past.

He certainly didn’t expect himself to be picked for the role, and to be fair he was a bit hesitant to take it because he knew your script deserved the utmost justice being served to it.

But when your dad called for Eddie to find you for the read, he just knew there was no way he would be able to let anyone else play the part beside himself if it meant getting to work with you.

It was safe to say Seth was in good spirits, honored that it was him getting to work with you for your first big storyline. And while he couldn’t take you on a proper coffee outing to thank you for last week, and now the storyline under his belt—he could totally try to make you the best cup of instant coffee to make up for it.

He walked through catering doors, making a beeline for the beverage table and retrieving two cups as he got to work.

“Did you get cut too?” Finn called out to him from the table nearby.

Seth chuckled, shaking his head as he twisted the spigot of the jug to dispense some of the coffee into the cups.

“Actually, no.”

“So who are they pairing you with?” Renee suspected, keeping her eyes on him curiously.

“Nattie?” Charlotte wondered, knowing she was also called in for the chemistry read earlier in the day.

“Over my dead body.” TJ called out from another table, causing them all to laugh.

“Sasha?” Finn pressed once again.

“Nope.” Seth said quickly, ripping two sugar packets and pouring it into your cup.

“Boss lady?” Roman called out jokingly.

Seth’s silence was all they needed to hear and before he could even tell them the good news, the entire room was filled with “oh’s” and “ah’s” coming from left and right.

“No fucking way.” Dean hailed, pressing his hands against the table, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“How in the hell did you manage to get paired up with her?” Renee choked, perplexed and entertained by the sudden news.

“Paul, made the call,” Seth exhaled annoyingly, turning to them as he stirred the contents of your cup. “He called her in to read and it just felt natural. We meshed and now we’re working together.”

The group of wrestlers whistled like a bunch of high schoolers struck with the fact that their very own friend was getting closer and closer to the principal’s daughter—or at least that’s how Seth saw it. Sure, they were all grown adults, but his friends especially were guilty of their childish play and this was one of those moments he wished ended sooner, but they were only getting started.

“Maybe Paul knew all along he wanted you and her together, and he held that meeting last week mostly for you.” Kofi quipped and everyone laughed, making him roll his eyes.

“Yeah, right, are you getting paid for these conspiracy theories?” Seth scoffed, shooting them all a glare.

“No, but I do know I’m not the one who’s potentially going to get his ass fired by Triple H if I get too cozy with his daughter!” He boosted, as everyone shook his hand and laughed cheekily.

“You wanna know what I think?” Seth got ready to leave, wrapping his hands around the warm cups.

“Please enlighten us Mr. Monday Night.” Renee grinned, propping her chin up on her fist.

Seth scanned the entire room with a smug smirk on his face. “That you guys are jealous that I’m the first one out of all of us to get a script written by her and I get to work with her.”

“Oh, shut it!” Charlotte rolled her eyes as everyone boo’d him out.

“Catch you losers later.” He singsonged, strolling over to your office with a victorious smile on his face.

Stopping in front of your office, he balanced his coffee against his chest, knocking firmly on the door, letting you know it was him. There was some shuffling and mumbling coming from the inside, smoothing out your skirt and top before you pulled the door open and met him with a smile as you tossed your hair over your shoulder.

“Hey, come in.” You opened the door wider, making room for him to pass, before shutting it behind him.

Seth stepped in further into your office, holding out one of the cups towards you, “It’s not the best coffee but I did promise you some last time.”

You pressed your lips into a thankful pout, taking it from him.

“I did need an extra buzz to get through the show, so thank you.” You laughed.

He watched as you took a sip, concern muddled in his orbs, hoping you’d like it, and if you didn’t, then he’d have to hope the sugar packets hidden in his pocket could solve the problem.

“Not too bitter is it?” Seth rose his brow skeptically, and you went in for another sip before shaking your head.

“It’s actually just right.” You swirled the cup in your palm, running your tongue over your lips.

“If we’re ever in Iowa, I’ll take you to a better coffee spot.” He offered, following your lead to the couch getting comfortable.

“You know a place?” You lifted your brow, falling onto the cushions, and hit him right beside you not a second later.

“I own it.” He said proudly, containing a chuckle when you snapped your head at him in awe.

“No way, you don’t.” You gasped, poking his arm thinking that he was just messing with you.

He shook his head, holding his hands up in defense. “Believe it or not, I’m a coffee connoisseur myself and decided to open up a little shop in my hometown.”

“Okay now you legitimately need to take me out for coffee.” You insisted with a stern point, the two of you began laughing.

“You have my word.” He promised, tipping his cup into the air towards you.

Sure it was a gamble to make such a promise, especially considering everyone’s concern about him getting in trouble with Paul for getting too close, but it also came with the territory of the business and if anyone knew what that was like then it was certainly your father.

You and him were strictly business…and friends. But nothing more than that. The way that you two smiled and held conversations with each other was strictly platonic—at least that’s what he was trying to convince himself as he stared at you tenderly.

He didn’t understand why his friends were causing such a ruckus between you and him, because surely they all thought that he was better than that, right? There wasn’t any plausible way that you or he could fall into something deeper than platonic friends…right?

“Oh! Let me grab my laptop.” You remembered getting off the couch, causing Seth to blink wildly, shaking his head at himself for getting caught up in his thoughts.

You sat beside him once more, this time with your laptop in hand as you set your coffee down on the ground before lifting the screen and typing your password in. He grinned behind his cup as he took a sip, eyes trained on the wallpaper of you and your sisters, plus a few dogs that he assumed were a part of the family.

“So, how should we do this?” You puffed out a breath of air through your nose, opening an application from the toolbar, causing another screen to pop up, an empty document.

You typed your name and Seth’s in the same line, followed by ‘backstage segment’ before assigning two different colors for your lines.

Seth slanted closer to you, and you looked up at him for a quick second, doing the same so you could tilt the laptop towards him, giving him a better view of the screen.

“Why don’t I come in looking for your dad, but it’s actually you I run into?” He suggested, looking at you for approval.

You thought for a second, eyes trained up to the ceiling, trying to paint the picture in your head, and before you knew it, there was a certain twinkle in your eye, suddenly looking at him with a thoughtful grin.

“Yeah, I like that.” You nodded, getting to typing away.

Effortless was the best way to describe the time that passed as you and Seth bounced ideas off one another. In fact, your office was filled with laughter, “oh’s” and “ah’s” that reflected the ease that came with the process that most times were filled with silence and pondering. He made it all feel easy, even with the worry that lingered in the back of your mind about being on live TV again.

You bit down on your lip, fingers working across the keyboard thoughtfully as you typed.

“Why don’t you do what your mother did and be gone witch?” Seth read it aloud as you typed and he covered his mouth, and you threw your head back laughing.

“No way! Your mom would kill, then your dad.” He grimaced lightly, causing you to giggle uncontrollably, sliding your laptop off your lap as you hunched over your legs.

“I personally think the crowd would pop over it.” You caught your breath laying back against the cushions.

“I like what we have so far. Usually sitting in script writing isn’t this fun,” Seth admitted, watching as you reached for your laptop and deleted the last line.

You hummed, tilting your head, “Writing has never not been fun for me. Sure, sometimes there’s writer’s block, but I always find that jumping from script to script can help.”

You saved the script to your laptop, pulling up your emails and sending it to Eddie with ‘please print’ in the subject line followed by a smiley face. He grinned, shaking his head as he sipped his coffee, watching you hit the send button before closing your laptop.

He swallowed the bitter liquid, the two of you sitting in short silence before he nudged your side with his elbow, getting you to meet his eyes.

“I’m lucky, really. There’s no one I would rather work with.” He spoke with a sincerity that made those knots loop and tighten in your stomach all over again.

It tugged inside of you in a way that you could not even begin to pinpoint. The idea of it being because you were starting to form a little crush on him just didn’t seem fathomable for reasons that you knew were obvious. He would never go after his boss’s daughter. You were the forbidden fruit he couldn’t have, and you were positive it was just you misinterpreting his kindness so foolishly.

Before you could even thank him, a heavy knock sounded on the other side of the door, causing you both to whip your head in its direction.

“Come in!” You called out, immediately standing and brushing your palms against your skirt.

It was a camera crew and sound techs lugging their equipment, as one of them spoke.

“Is it okay if we set up?” They proposed, looking between you and Seth.

You nodded, glancing over at the superstar who stood upright beside you.

“Yeah, of course, we were just wrapping up.”

They all nodded, letting themselves in to prepare for the segment tonight.

“I’ll meet you here okay?” Seth held his arm out, letting you walk into a small hug.

“Sounds like a plan.” You murmured, rubbing his back, watching him leave, hoping time would go by faster.

As if you manifested it, time certainly did pass by quicker than you anticipated and Seth was already changed into a fitted tee and black skinny jeans. His hair tugged out of the low bun he had been wearing and misted with leave in conditioner. He was reading over the copy of his script while you got your hair and makeup touched up and the camera crew began framing the shot.

One of the producers instructed you both to get into places, anticipating the end of the second match of the night where directly after the cameras would cut to backstage. You stood off camera, shooting Seth a thumbs up and a big ole smile, while a stage hand counted down and the cameras were live.

“Hello hello, is anyone here?” He tapped on the already cracked door, pushing against it and letting himself in, looking around.

You snuck in from the opposite side of the camera, revealing yourself.

“Can I help you?”

Seth stared at you surprised, for a split second before giving you a tense nod and looking past you.

“Actually, you can’t, but if you could get me your dad, then I think I’ll be able to get my issue resolved.”

You rolled your eyes, hands resting on your hips, “Well my dad’s actually a little busy right now, but I can assure you, whatever it is you need, I can assist.”

“Yeah?” Seth crossed his arms over his chest, meeting your eyes skeptically.

“Come on, hit me.” You nodded with a smile, feigning assurance as you guided him to tell you what he so desperately wanted.

“A match against—”

“Yeah no,” You cut him off, dropping the smile on your face and causing Seth to furrow his brows perplexed.

“Excuse me?” He spoke taken aback by your harshness.

“You don’t think I’m stupid do you? I know your history, Seth, and to be quite frank, I’m not the fondest of you. To be honest, I don’t even like you all that much.”

“Look lady, I did nothing to you, so I don’t see why you’re treating me the way you are right now.”

“It’s not about what you did to me, Seth. It’s about what you did to other people. What you did to your brothers, Roman and Dean. What you did to my dad after everything he did for you. And right now, I have my guard up because I don’t know what you’ll do to me.”

“I’ll have you know that I apologized to my brothers. We’ve moved on and they’ve forgiven me. As for your dad,” Seth paused, looking at you, “He got what he had coming…and so did you mom.”

You gritted your teeth, palm lifting up as if you were going to slap him before your dad, cleared his throat, entering the frame and you hurriedly lowered your hand and shot him a sweet smile.

“Hi dad!” You beamed, attempting to cut the tension in the small space.

“Hey sweetie,” He greeted you with a hug, ignoring Seth for a moment, before turning to face him finally, “You met my daughter I see.”

“She’s a real delight.” Seth faked a smile, and you rolled your eyes when your dad wasn’t looking.

“Was there something you needed?” Hunter requested, and Seth’s mouth opened about to speak.

“He was actually just leaving dad.” You interjected, shaking your head and gesturing Seth out the door.

But he stood in place, glaring at you until you hardened your gaze and pointed him out once more.

“Bye-bye now.” You twiddled your fingers, smiling evilly when he turned his back and walked out.

The camera cut back to the ring, and you immediately broke character with a giggle relieved that it went better than you had planned, and to your surprise you and Seth worked effortlessly. Your father shook his head, impressed by how good you were at playing the bad guy, even after you were initially opposed to being a heel because you didn’t know if you possessed any of the bad guy qualities.

“I’m sure everyone is now officially going to call me mom’s mini me.” You joked, meeting your father’s palm with a high five.

“You sure are.” Your dad grinned, ruffling the top of your head, a warm gesture of his approval that you always had.

The two of you moved towards your desk, allowing the crew to clear out with all their equipment, and it wasn’t long before Seth had made his way back in, wearing the same grin that you had glued onto your face even after the cameras called cut.

“For a second, I thought you really were going to hit me.” Seth shook his head playfully, rubbing his hand over his cheek where you were going to hit him.

You gasped dramatically, holding a hand over your heart, “I would never!” You insisted, the two of you laughing as your dad watched on.

He was well aware that the decision to have you and Seth work together was the best one he could have made, despite the oppositions who argued otherwise. Sure, many of the producers and writers were weary of Paul allowing his daughter to act in her very own script, especially a romantic one, but Paul knew better than anyone that you were the perfect fit, and Seth was the perfect partner to make it all happen.

While Seth was the one who named Paul one of his biggest mentors, Paul trusted Seth with not just his creative take on wrestling, but the ability to work with new talent not just to put them over, but to make him better in the process. It was no different from trusting Seth with you, knowing he would help you develop your character for the long run while also getting the chance to explore a creative direction that the fans had never seen from him before.

Your father knew you and Seth were the perfect match for TV and that was it.

“Wanna go to catering?” Seth suggested, hoping you’d tag along since he had virtually nothing else to do for the night.

You nodded, retrieving your phone off your desk. “Yeah, I’m actually meting Eddie there. I have a few posters to sign and he wants to catch up.” You shot Eddie a quick text that you would be there soon.

“Well, great job you two.” Your dad spoke, giving you both a pat on the back, content with how the segment went and hoping the fans would be excited for next week where they got to see more of you two together.

“Fun weekend?” Seth asked, falling into step beside you, walking through the hallways.

You nodded enthusiastically, retelling what you and your family had been up to.

“It was actually really fun and relaxing at the same time. Plus, I really hit a home run when my sister opened the present I got her.”

You unlocked your phone, opening the photos app, and scrolling to find the photo your mom snapped of you and your sister as she ripped open her present.

“What’d you get her?” He stared, watching as you slid through some images before finally finding the one and passing it over to him.

“It’s one of those vintagey polaroid cameras.” You explained, excitement woven into your voice, “And it’s not the modern ones they brought back into style. It’s like an actual one from the 80s I think? I found it at consignment store and picked up some film to go along with it.”

Seth laughed, fingers scrolling through the play-by-play photos which revealed your sisters surprised expression the more she got through the wrapping paper and realized what she got. It ended with you two embracing in a hug, and Seth smiled warmly at the thought you put in, making sure you got her something that was worth a reaction like that.

“She looks super stoked.” Seth chuckled, passing the phone back to you.

You hummed, pouting slightly at the screen a little at the screen and locking it. “I’m a little jealous because I’ve been wanting one myself.” You admitted with a laugh, shaking your head at your own wistfulness.

Seth smirked, opening the catering doors for you, letting you walk in first.

“You should get one. It’ll complete the whole director look you got going on.” He spoke, walking in behind you and gesturing his hand in the air over your silhouette.

You giggled softly, looking towards the table in the back of the room where Eddie was waving you over.

“I’ll be over there.” You pointed, and Seth nodded, giving Eddie a little wave before turning his attention back to you.

“Stop by if you have time.” Seth replied, tone inviting, tilting his head towards the table where all of his friends were seated waiting for him to join them.

“I will.” You assured him with a smile, heading to Eddie while Seth went to grab food.

The fine tip sharpie was nestled into your hand and you began the time consuming and finger cramping process of getting the stack of posters signed for the beloved WWE fans. Thankfully, you and Eddie both created an efficient rhythm where you would sign and he would stack them, keeping to process going smoothly.

“How was your sister’s birthday?” He swiped away another poster into the growing signed pile.

“Adorable! She had a few friends over for her birthday party, and she was surprised my dad and I flew down in time.” You gushed, hand working overtime to get everything done in one sitting.

“That’s nice. Why didn’t I see you Friday, by the way?” He was too busy with your father’s tasks for him to find you or shoot you a text last week.

“I got dinner with Seth and a few other people, and I caught a ride with them back to the hotel.” You stopped for a moment, looking at him with a soft smile. “Thanks for sending my stuff to the suite by the way.”

Eddie nodded, keeping the posters going, but not without a little laugh getting caught in his throat before he spoke, “Seth, huh?”

You furrowed your brows, the pen still working against the glossy photos.

“What about him?” You pressed, wondering what he was getting at.

Eddie shrugged, his knowing eyes avoided with yours trained on the photos in front of you. “Nothing, he just seems to cozy up to you that’s all.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not true.” You argued, shaking your head dismissively.

“You ran into each other like a billion times on your first day—two of which I was there to see with my own eyes.” He retorted, as if it meant something deeper than two people coincidentally bumping into each other.

“Well, we work together now, and now with the new storyline expect to see more of us together.” You replied, attempting to brush off any implications that it was deeper than surface level.

“In a cozy way or?” Eddie teased, knocking his foot lightly into your calves under the table.

“Oh my god, stop.” You groaned, rolling your eyes at his childish behavior that was borderline schoolgirl like.

“I’m messing with you,” Eddie eased up with a chuckle, “Plus, your dad already made it clear that talent is off limits.” He admitted, sucking in a sharp breath at the memory of the tense meeting just a few days ago.

“He’s not actually serious about that.” You countered with a huff, defiance creeping into your voice.

Eddie deadpanned, staring at you in disbelief, “What do you mean ‘not serious’? He is totally absolutely serious about it.”

You shrugged, not understanding what the big deal was anyway.

“Well for one, I am a grown woman who gets to decide what I want, and two, he and my mom literally did what he’s now tell me not to do, which is very hypocritical if you ask me.”

Eddie nodded, understanding your point, but at the same time weary of what your father was capable of if anyone thought about pursing you.

“No I know that, but…wouldn’t he like absolutely freak out if you went against him?”

“This is all hypothetical you know that, right? I’m not actually going to go after Seth.” You laughed lightly, shaking your head at him, hoping he knew you weren’t being actually serious about you and your new on-screen interest.

“What if Seth wants to go after you?” Eddie’s tone was suddenly a lot less teasing and more so serious.

“He’d be out of his mind.” You sighed, waving off the thought of that even happening.

“He already is.” Eddie muttered under his breath, eyes catching the sigh of Seth staring at you from across the room while you tried not to feel it.

Seth settled his eyes back on his plate of salad and grilled chicken, seated between Dean and Kofi as everyone began talking about the elephant in the room, which was you and Seth—of course.

“Nice segment,” Dean patted him on the back with a smirk. “You guys have chemistry.” He added, and the table agreed with hums and smiles.

Seth chewed his food and swallowed, nodding his head thankfully, “Well I mean, that’s why Paul picked her and I.”

Dean snorted, shaking his head with a lopsided grin. “I mean, romantic sexual chemistry.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Seth cursed, shaking his head in disagreement.

The table giggled and failed to hide their growing smirks, knowing damn well there was an unspoken chemistry between you both no matter how hard Seth tried to deny it.

“It’s no surprise when we were practically barging in on your date last week.” Charlotte piped with a soft whistle, sipping her energy drink through a straw.

“Hold up what?” Xavier’s eyes shot towards Seth, lifting a troubling brow.

Seth sighed, forking pieces of dressed lettuce onto the prongs as he spoke.

“We just went out to dinner and I walked her up to her hotel room. We were on the same floor, so it was just coincidence.”

“Chivalry, my man!” Big E hooted.

“Thank you.” Seth looked over at him with an empathetic expression, knowing at least he understood what it meant to be a courteous person.

But Kofi piped in, shaking his head. “Oh, it wasn’t a compliment. You’re down bad dude.” He corrected with a laughed, reaching across the table to give Big E a fist bump.

“What does that even mean?” Seth furrowed his brows confused, before ultimately shaking his head not wanting to hear it.

“We’re friends. And you guys have to drop this, we’re gonna be working together a lot and the last thing—”

Before he could even finish his statement, he felt a hand slide across the slope of his shoulder, causing him to look behind him, only to be met by you. Your stood above him, wearing your infectious smile as your hand remained on his clothed shoulder.

“I gotta run, but I’ll try to find you later if I have time.” You told him, eyes darting quickly to Eddie who was waiting up for you near the catering doors.

Seth nodded, immediately smiling, “Yeah, of course,” He replied.

He dropped the fork onto his plate, hand reaching up to cover yours. “Good job earlier by the way.”

You squeezed his skin tenderly, his rough fingertips grazing over your knuckles as you two smiled idiotically at each other. Everyone catching the way you both acted as if you were the only two people in the room—as if it really was just an innocent start of a friendship.

“Thanks. It always helps when you have a good scene partner to work with.” You spoke softly with another gracious nod.

With that, Seth let his hand fall off yours, and you brought your arm back to your side, finally tearing your eyes away from solely his and finally acknowledging everyone else with a wave.

“Bye guys,” you chorused, looking at Seth once more, mouthing “bye” and spinning on your heel, leaving with Eddie.

“That’s what it is.” Kofi muttered, draping his arm across Seth’s shoulder.

“What?” Seth finally tore his eyes from the catering door and his smile gradually dropped.

“That look on your face.” He pointed, gesturing a finger in a circular motion over his face.

“You being so gushy mushy over her? That’s being down bad my friend.”

Seth didn’t entertain the accusation, not even in the slightest convinced as he continued to eat his food and his friends went on with their badgering. He wasn’t down bad or whatever it was they were claiming.

All of it was completely and utterly foolish—he just wondered if you thought so too.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like chapter three of icsy!!! i had been working on this chapter for awhile and it is longer than i expected it to be, but thats just me being a typical yappersorous (my bad). let me know what you thing!!! seems like reader and seth are down bad and they don't even know it just yet 😜

[octuscle]

Changed circumstances

Jonathan Douglas was annoyed. His father and his older brother, the crown prince, had both been in a bad mood for days. His mother could not be reached, she had probably gone off to the Cote d'Azur with some lover. And Jonathan was bored in his penthouse in New York. The weather was terrible, his mood miserable. But then he had to change something. The family's permanent suite at Las Brisas in Acapulco had just been renovated and the weather forecast for Mexico was excellent. What was keeping him in Manhattan in the sleet?

He called his father's assistant and asked for a jet to be waiting at the airport. And he needed a helicopter, he didn't fancy the after-work traffic right now. And it would also be nice if she could inform Miguel from Las Brisas that he had an hour of personal training every morning at 09:00 for the next two weeks. The answer should have been a warning to him that something was wrong. There was no jet or helicopter available, but a driver would be waiting for him in fifteen minutes. And she had booked a flight for him with Netjets. He would have to contact the hotel directly about the personal training, but she didn't have time for that now. Jonathan was outraged! That was impertinent! But don't get upset, he would just have to get on with it. Even if he hated Netjet. The idea that anyone could have sat in his seat disgusted him.

His anger was somewhat dissipated when, after an exhausting journey, he was finally sitting in the hotel's beach club and looking out to sea. Friends always flew this route on scheduled flights. Unimaginable. He would need a week to recover from the stress.

The next few days were great. Miguel got Jonathan back in shape, the weather was glorious and the parties were great fun. Only his family was annoying. After days of no one being available or having time for him before he left for Mexico, he was now constantly getting calls and emails from his father and brother. But Jonathan was now on vacation. He didn't have time to deal with any boring issues. And he didn't feel like being reproached for not being involved in the family holding company. That was a mistake.

The debacle was already looming when he got up in the morning. 23 new e-mails from his father, his brother and various managers at the holding company. But not a single missed call. Funny, the phone was dead too. Only wifi connection. He had to take care of that after his manicure.

Rosalita got his fingernails back into perfect shape. In between, she whispered with a colleague. When the treatment was finished, she asked Jonathan to pay straight away. For technical reasons, he couldn't write the bill on the room. Damn it, why didn't any of his credit cards work? Exasperated, he put USD 100 on the counter for Rosalita and said that would be fine. Rosalita gave him back USD 20.00 and said that he might still need it. Confused, Jonathan pocketed the bill.

The day got better and better. His door card no longer worked. So Jonathan got into his jeep and drove to reception to have the card recoded. The receptionist asked him to follow her to the hotel manager's office. And then a nightmare began to unfold. The hotel manager informed Jonathan that, in view of the adverse circumstances, he would unfortunately have to demand that the current arrears be settled immediately. Jonathan looked at him questioningly. The hotel manager said that there were currently two months' worth of outstanding bills amounting to USD 60,000.00. And even if he regretted the development and even if Jonathan was a very valued guest, he would have to insist that he receive this money immediately. And if Jonathan wanted to stay in his suite, he would always have to pay the bill a week in advance.

Jonathan asked what the hell was going on. And the hotel manager handed him the New York Times. The spectacular collapse of the family empire was the subject of the front page. Jonathan turned pale.

An hour later, Jonathan was sitting in front of the staff entrance gate, surrounded by his suitcases and a few boxes of things from his suite. On his wrist was the Tudor that he would only wear on the beach at best. But he had left his platinum Rolex Daytona at the hotel to pay off his debt. He still had a little cash, a few watches, some jewelry… But apart from that, he was obviously broke. His cell phone was locked, so he could no longer listen to his voicemail. But there was still enough signal here at the gate to read his e-mails. He should probably have done that earlier. His family and the managers of the family companies on whose board he sat had been desperately trying to reach him for days. In a catastrophic chain reaction, the stock market value of the company had virtually vanished into thin air and the resulting over-indebtedness had led to its collapse. And apparently the family's entire private assets had been frozen as a result.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting here at the gate. He was hungry, thirsty and sweaty. But damn it, his fingernails were freshly manicured. Certainly didn't happen to many homeless people. "Hermano, I heard what happened to you. Can I help you?" Miguel stood in front of him. Not in his gym uniform. In jeans and an undershirt, with a red scarf wrapped around his head. He looked a bit like a little gangster. Jonathan was completely stripped of his sovereignty. He couldn't help it. He started to cry. Miguel took him in his arms and told him to wait here. He would be right back. And he came back with an old rusty pickup truck. Together they loaded up the rest of Jonathan's belongings and drove to Miguel's apartment. Jonathan could stay here for a few days.

The few days turned into weeks. Little by little, Jonathan, who had taken the precaution of calling himself John, sold most of his valuables. To pay Miguel his share of the rent. But also for tobacco and tequila. And for a few clothes that would make him less conspicuous when he hung out with his new pals in cheap bars during the day. By now, only a few items of clothing from his old life remained. Most of the rest had been sold.

When Miguel came home from work, he exploded. John sat in front of the TV again with a beer and watched some soap opera. "¡Pedazo de mierda autocompasiva!" he yelled at John. "Get your ass off the sofa and get to work." John burped and said he was depressed. "You're not depressed, you're just incredibly lazy and spoiled," Miguel replied. "I've got a job for you tomorrow. A rich American tourist is looking for someone to show him around the real Acapulco. I need someone who knows their way around here and speaks Spanish." "But I don't speak any Spanish," John whined. "Estúpido pedazo de mierda. ¿En qué idioma hemos estado hablando durante semanas?" Damn it, Miguel was right.

The kick in the ass was probably just what John needed. He was actually the perfect city guide for the rich and beautiful from Las Brisas. He knew their wishes and problems from his past. And he knew how to satisfy sensationalism in the slums. He knew who to avoid and where to recover stolen watches and wallets. He knew where to get an authentic lunch. And where to find almost every drug on the planet. And since he started showering and brushing his teeth regularly again, he was also occasionally given money to suck a rich tourist's cock and fuck his ass.

It had been a few years since Jonathan had to move out of his suite. Jonathan no longer existed. Jonathan had been flushed into the sewers of New York with the remnants of a corporate empire. Instead, there was Juan. And Juan was a celebrity among the guests at Las Brisas. He knew everyone in Acapulco, could organize everything and get everything. Anyone who wanted to break out of the hotel's artificial world of luxury would discreetly ask for Juan's contact details. Yes, his services were not cheap. But worth every dollar.

Inspired by @randomnobodyandfriends. Pics found @boytoyinrolex, @stargazerguy and @yeahthatsmypapi

[lexxierave]

When Fate Intervenes- tasm!Peter Parker x Reader Part 1

It was a wonder you and Peter Parker never met each other until you were both forced to attend a mandatory pre-midterm conference with Mr.Hertz, your physics professor for the fall semester, of which you were currently running late for. Then again maybe it was all part of fate's funny game it wanted to play on the two of you. 

You had completely forgotten what day it was earlier this evening and went straight home from work instead of heading in the opposite direction to your college.

You were recently new to New York, settling into a small and cheap apartment on the outskirts of Queens. It was all you could afford after you packed up and moved across states to attend college, preferring to be as far away from your family as you could get. 

You used what was left over from your college tuition to make the down payment for rent. After that you found a job at a small corner store. Just around the corner actually and you happened to find out they needed help by chance when you went there for basic food supplies. It wasn't much but they were willing to work around your college schedule and let you do your homework whenever it got slow.

You had just finished your shift at work and were completely wiped from working all day and thinking about the mountain of assignments and reading you still had to do.

You envied the rich college kids if only for the facts that they didn't have to worry about that. Didn't have to worry about failing or surviving in the real world. While you never had a moment's rest. Never stopping and allowing yourself just to breathe and live.

You didn't come from a happy home. No, you came from a broken home. One that taught you terrible habits, like avoiding your problems. Or people in general so that you don't get attached, get let down and have more problems.

Anxiety was a constant in your life so much that you always wore out. Which was why you decided a nice nap after work sounded better than starting your schoolwork.

You woke up to your phone going off about an hour later.

You looked blinked that sleep away and picked up your phone to see your college's name rolling across the screen.

Puzzled and tired you answered it. The sleep is evident in your voice.

"So it's not just my class lectures you tend to be late for." The voice on the other end spoke after you said your typical greeting. The exasperation evident in their voice.

It was clearly your physics teacher, you'd remember that voice from everywhere. Having been scolded by him multiple times this semester for arriving late for his early morning class but it was challenging when you usually had to work the evening shift at work then stay up late to finish up your course work before the next day.

It was not an ideal balance but it was one you had to manage for the time being. Your job wouldn't give you the morning shift and the college only offers this class during one time this semester and you would rather get it out of the way fast then wait to do it plus it was a prerequisite for a handful of your other classes.

"I am so sorry I thought it was Tuesday for some reason. I'll be there in about 30 minutes." You apologized for the tenth time for letting the meeting slip your mind and lied through your teeth about when you'd be there.

Which is why you were running across campus to one of the buildings in the back to meet your fate.

Meanwhile in another part of campus Peter hand touched down from swing to one of his emergency backpacks that he left for when he was running late for something on school grounds, like right now. 

He knew what time he had to be at the meeting for Me. Hertz but you try to tell that to highspeed bank robbers going in the opposite direction. They'd laugh at him and then blow smoke from their getaway car in his face.

Peter shook his head at the mere thought of it before jumping on his skateboard and jetting over to the backside of campus. 

He needed to get this over with face and get back to patrolling. He knew it was not about his grades, he's one of the smartest students in class. Probably is the smartest but he'd never give himself that much credit with his classroom attendance. 

That's probably what this is all about. He's attendance or lack thereof, especially of late. Peter really only took some easy college courses to get Aunt May to stop worrying about him following Spider-Man around all day long.

His heart and head weren't in any of it. He'd rather be stopping bad guys so no one got hurt like Gwen did or Harry.

If only Peter could save the people he cared about most. It was a guilt he'd carry like a scarlet letter forever.

With all of Peter's thoughts consuming him it didn't take him long to reach Mr. Hertz's office. 

He kicked up his board and reached for the door handle, mentally preparing himself for the lecture he was about to receive. But who can prepare for what fate has in store for them?

Part 2

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 14

Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Em and Reader fly to NYC for a day.

Tags : Little bit of angst, FLUFF 🥰

CW : -

In the following week, you and Marshall hung out together as much as possible, whether it was to watch a movie, have dinner or simply hang out at the studio with everyone. Except for the two of you, as well as Talia and Jamal, no one knew about your argument. The others simply figured out that you were busy with uni, which was great, because you didn’t really want anyone to be involved in any type of drama. Being back as a team was great, and you were elated to have your best friend back. You were also ecstatic to go to New York with him. You had never been there and you couldn’t wait to discover the city. After all, when they visit the US, most people from Europe go to California or New York. If you were completely honest, the reason you had ended up in Michigan in the first place was because of the partnership between your former university in France and MSU, as well as the fact that Detroit was actually a cheaper place to live. And then, you stayed because you fell in love with the place and met amazing people. Ever since you had moved to Detroit, you hadn’t visited a lot of places. You were either on a budget or too busy. So when Marshall offered for you to fly to NYC with him and it matched your schedule, you saw it as an amazing opportunity. Plus, you were going to spend some time, just the two of you… and Paul. 

When Marshall told you that Paul was going to be there, you were a bit disappointed. Of course, you understood that it was his role as manager to be there whenever Marshall was going on a work trip or giving interviews, but his presence made you feel a bit uncomfortable. Ever since the pictures of the two of you exiting the party had been published in the press, Paul had made no secret of his disapproval of your presence in Marshall’s life. You got along with everyone else, from beatmakers to sound engineers, but the manager was something else. It seemed like he hated you and it was making you a little sad. Marshall shrugged it off though. The day before, you were in his closet, picking his outfits for the photoshoot when you decided to talk to him about it. 

Are you sure that me coming to New York is a great idea ? You asked. 

You don’t want to come anymore ? He asked back. 

No, of course I do, you said. But is Paul ok with me being there ? 

I don’t know. I didn’t ask for his opinion, he shrugged. 

He hates me, you sighed. 

No, he doesn’t, he chuckled. I mean, it’s Paul, he’s an ass, sometimes. It’ll be fine, though. He’s just going to be there for the interview and then, he’s having meetings of his own. He won’t even be there when we fly back. 

So it’ll be just us, then ? 

Pretty much. You, me and… well, security, he said. 

On the next day, when you boarded the private jet for the flight, Paul was already seated. He greeted you curtly. 

Are we sure it’s a good idea for her to be here ? He asked Marshall without so much as a look at you. 

Yeah, Marshall replied. I need her opinion on outfits for the shoot and she’s never been to NYC, so it works out pretty well. 

Are we working here, or are we turning into a travel agency ? Paul sighed. Seriously, Marshall, we could have worked with a stylist… 

Just relax, Marshall shrugged as he rolled his eyes. It’s no big deal. 

To you, maybe, Paul groaned. But I swear, if I have to deal with anything she does… 

Marshall didn’t even bother replying. He just sighed and sat next to you during the flight, as you both watched a movie on your iPad. Shortly before you landed, Paul decided to talk to Marshall about the day’s events, still ignoring you. 

So, the photoshoot will last about two hours and then the interview, he recalled. 

Good, Marshall said. This afternoon, I’m taking you to cool places, Y/N. You’re going to like New-York ! 

Actually, Paul said, I know you wanted your afternoon and evening free, but you’re doing a radio interview in the afternoon… 

Are you fucking serious ? Marshall groaned. That wasn’t planned. I’m not doing this. I made plans with Y/N already. 

Well, here’s the thing… They sort of announced your presence on the show already… But Y/N doesn’t mind. Do you, Y/N ? 

So, now, he was talking to you when he was trying to convince Marshall ? Great. It took you a lot of effort not to give him the biggest side-eye. 

It’s fine, you said with a forced smile. I’ll enjoy the city on my own. 

Are you sure ? Marshall asked. 

Of course. You have work to do, it’s ok, you replied. 

Plus, it’s probably for the best, Paul said. If the two of you were to be spotted together… 

Whatever, Marshall said as he rolled his eyes. 

You landed and got to the suite the magazine rented for the day, where the photoshoot and interview would take place. As you unpacked and organized the outfits that Marshall would wear, you heard him talk to Paul. 

So, are we taking questions about your relationship with Y/N for the interview ? Paul asked. 

You already know the answer, Marshall sighed. 

I’m merely asking to protect you, Marshall, the manager explained. It’s my job. 

I know, Marshall said. But my personal life, my daughters, my ex, my friends outside of the industry and any rumored girlfriends… It’s not something I’m discussing. We’ve decided on that nearly fifteen years ago, I don’t see why it would change now. 

Because the two of you were spotted together, Paul recalled, that’s why. You should know this could change everything. And as manager, I have to remind you that it’s all about the control we have over that type of thing. Plus, obviously, with everything that happened recently… people are certainly wondering. 

Why the fuck would they even care ? Marshall groaned. I make music, I’m not a fucking reality show celebrity… 

Fine, the manager said. Lucky for us, things seem to be dying down. Let’s hope this stays this way. No offense, but I have enough work as it is. 

Once they were done with their conversation, Marshall came to find you and took a look at the outfit you had chosen in his wardrobe. 

So, what did I pack with utter blind trust in you ? He mused. 

Three different outfits. One is more typical of what you usually wear for photoshoots, the two others are a little more “you”, you explained. 

Meaning ? 

Meaning you’ll look like Eminem in at least one of them, don’t worry, you said with a wink. Do you trust me ? 

I guess, he chuckled. They send us the pictures before publication beforehand anyway, so I’ll pick the pictures I like the most. 

I wonder if this is why you never smile on pictures, you chuckled. Is it because you ban them from publication ? 

No it’s not, he said with a grin. I mean, people can catch me laughing on camera and stuff, I don’t really mind that much. But most of the time, it’s because I’m not really at ease. And I’m not really myself either, you know ? 

Not really yourself ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Well, if my daughters take a picture of me, I might smile, but if it’s someone I don’t know and it’s for the media… They’re taking Eminem’s picture. Not mine, he shrugged. 

Well, the two other outfits I have planned are definitely “Marshall-coded”, you chuckled. Is that ok ? 

I guess, he said with a smile. 

The team from the magazine started to arrive and set up things for the shoot. You let him change into the first outfit. It was a simple, classic one. Black jeans, black sneakers, white tee-shirt and Saint Laurent jacket, accesorized with silver chains that were on the daintier side, as well as a ring, a nice statement Rolex watch and a bracelet. When he came out of the room, he looked a bit perplexed. 

You didn’t pack any hat, he pointed out. For any of the outfits. 

That’s intentional, you said with a smirk. 

Why ? He asked. 

Because you’re getting the picture taken. The point is for people to see your face, you chuckled. 

What if I don’t like my face ? He chuckled. 

Well that’s your opinion, but your opinion is wrong, you replied with a smile. I like your face. 

Do you ?  He asked as he furrowed his eyebrows. 

Of course. 

His look softened a bit and he kissed your cheek before sitting in the makeup chair. It seemed like he knew everyone already. From what you gathered, he was used to working with this particular team of people whenever he was doing something with this magazine. He politely greeted everyone and even made small talk, though he seemed more distant. You could tell he was putting on a persona, but probably wasn’t too comfortable. You chuckled as you saw his annoyed look when the makeup artist applied makeup on his face. He noticed and instantly flipped you with a smirk. You silently watched from the side as he went in front of the camera and posed as the photographer directed. He looked good, for sure, but the whole thing felt unnatural. The person in front of you wasn’t Marshall. It was Eminem. And although it was his job, you weren’t sure you liked it too much. After all, you had never been an Eminem fan. The reason you appreciated the music was the man behind it, the real person you had befriended. You shook your head and smiled as he posed in what you assumed to be a stereotypical rapper fashion : not a smile in sight, dark expression, serious demeanor… When the set was done, he walked to you. 

I see you making fun of me, lady, he smirked. 

I would never, you said innocently. 

What’s wrong ? He asked. 

Who said there was anything wrong ? You mused. 

I know your pretty little face, he chuckled. You can’t lie to me. 

Mmmh… I’m just not used to seeing you like this, you said with a smile. But, yeah, you definitely look like a rapper. Almost like it’s your job ! 

Come on and tell me what outfit is next, he said as he grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom. 

The second outfit consisted of the same jeans, different sneakers, another white tee-shirt (slightly less fitted) as well as his Detroit Lions jacket, with no accessories, except for a watch. You thought it would be cool for the outfit to make a nod to his passion for football. In the months you’d known him, he’d spent countless hours trying to convince you to learn more about football, though you always replied that “actual” football was soccer and that the US version didn’t make any sense. It was more simple, more him. 

I like it, he said as soon as he got dressed. 

I like it too. The blue really brings out your eyes, you replied. Especially when you’re not wearing a hat. 

You really hate my hats, don’t you ? He sighed. 

I like them, you shrugged. I just like being able to look at your face… 

The comment made him smile and he gently stroked your cheek. 

You’re the boss, after all, he said with a wink. 

Am I ? You asked cockily. I like the idea of being the boss… 

Only for today, he replied as he rolled his eyes. And only for the outfits. 

Too bad I can’t voice my opinion on makeup, you whispered. 

What’s with the makeup ? 

It’s too much, you chuckled. It’s going to clog your pores… You can’t see your actual skin underneath those layers ! 

Wait until they airbrush my face on Photoshop, he grinned. 

That would be a heinous crime, you said with a smile. 

Gotta hide those lines, he said with a wink. 

I like the lines, you said softly as you stroked his cheeks, trying to get rid of some excess of makeup that made his skin look a bit cakey. 

Do you ? He asked. 

Yup, you whispered. I really do. They’re part of your face. 

He chuckled and planted a kiss on your cheek before going back on set. For the whole duration, you looked at each other and you tried to get him to relax by making faces whenever the crew wasn’t looking. His look had softened a bit, although he still looked serious. You believed in miracles, but it would probably take a little more than that to get him to smile. You were leaning against the wall, watching him work, when the makeup artist settled next to you. 

Hard not to stare, right ? She chuckled. 

Mmmh ? You asked, as you weren’t really paying attention. 

I’m just saying… The man is really attractive, she said. I’m Jenny, by the way. I’m in charge of makeup. 

Hi, you said. I’m Y/N. I’m in charge of the clothes. 

Are you his personal stylist ? 

Just filling in, you chuckled. 

Anyway, you did a great job, she complimented. He looks really good. 

Thanks, you said, your eyes still focusing on Marshall. 

You’re going to think I’m crazy but… You look just like that girl in the magazines. The one he was spotted with, a few weeks earlier, Jenny said. 

Do I ? You asked as you feigned surprise. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that outfit, you added with a grin. 

Anyway… She’s a pretty lucky girl… I mean, I’d definitely sell a kidney to be in her place. 

You chuckled softly. You were indeed lucky. Sure, there was little truth to the story in the news, but you were definitely in luck to have Marshall in your life. However, you found yourself to be a little frustrated : ever since the two of you had rekindled your friendship, neither of you had made a move. Sure, you hugged all the time, sometimes held hands, and were overall really close. But he hadn’t mentioned the two of you “hanging out more” again. When you weren’t speaking, you mostly missed the friendship, but now that he was back in your life, you weren’t really against the idea of his kisses and his hands all over your body. In fact, you were all for it, and the memories kept you warm at night. 

When he was done with the second set of pictures, he went to change and your heart skipped a beat when he emerged from the room. This final outfit was the most basic, but it was your favorite. He was wearing black jeans that were a bit washed out and a gray hoodie, matching shoes and no accessories. You had chosen these clothes because these were the exact ones he wore the day you met. You remembered thinking he was attractive when you first saw him, but somehow, he seemed even hotter.  Everything in this outfit screamed “Marshall” in your opinion : no brands, comfy, nothing flashy, but still fitting to his style. The gray color definitely brought out his nice complexion and his eyes. He smiled as soon as he spotted you. 

What do you think, boss ? He asked. 

You look great, you said as you couldn’t smile from ear to ear. That’s my favorite look, right here. 

Is it ? He mused. 

Yeah… Definitely. Also, that’s what you were wearing when we met, you added. 

Really ? He said with a smile. And you like it ? 

Definitely ! You replied. I think it’s the look I associate with you the most. Simple and understated, but the sneakers give an edge. 

I don’t remember my outfit of that day, he chuckled. But I do remember yours. I thought you were really pretty. 

You chuckled and blushed lightly, not really knowing what to say. You were nervously playing with your sobriety pendant when you had an idea. You took it off and placed it on him. 

I think the outfit is complete now, you said with a smile. 

He chuckled and placed a kiss on your cheek before going back on set. Jenny touched up his makeup before going back to you while he posed. 

You’ve done such a great job with these outfits, she said. You know, I’ve worked with him a few times, but I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him this relaxed. 

I’m glad, you said softly. 

How is it to work for him ? She asked. Must be pretty exciting… 

It is, you chuckled. Not to make you jealous, but he is pretty great. 

God, you’re lucky, she said dreamily. 

You glanced at Marshall and noticed he was looking at you. The look on his face was soft and he was playing with the pendant in between takes. You couldn’t help but smile at him. That’s when it hit you : you were in love with Marshall Mathers. You would have expected such a realization to make you panic, but it was the contrary. You were almost overcome with joy and emotion. After all, you were lucky enough to have fallen in love with someone who had become your best friend in the past few months. And you knew for a fact that he found you attractive. In that instant, you knew you had to tell him. Oddly enough, you were more confident than ever. Last time, he had been the one to make a move by suggesting that you hung out more, so maybe the universe was letting you know that it was your turn. 

The shoot ended and Marshall walked up to you as the crew was packing their stuff, except for the journalist who was patiently waiting for the interview. You both went to the room so that you could start packing the clothes and he could get changed. He sat on the bed as he watched you pack. 

You did a great job with the outfits, he said. 

Really ? You asked with the biggest smile. 

Yeah. I like them. I felt confident, he chuckled. Doesn’t happen too much. Especially when I’m not wearing anything on my head. 

I like it better that way, you said softly. 

What’s wrong with Kangol ? 

Nothing. Come to think of it, they might be the best thing you’ve worn on your head, except for beanies…, you said. I liked your beanie era. But the durags…? 

I know, he chuckled. But, back then, it was pretty stylish… 

You’ll have to find someone else to convince, Mathers, you grinned. Aren’t you changing clothes ? 

Nope. Apparently, I look good in those, so… 

You giggled and let him take off the makeup before doing the interview. You thought about the best way to confess your feelings to him. You didn’t want to be cheesy and corny and overdo it, but you wanted to do it in the right conditions. You figured you’d wait for a moment when the two of you would be alone. When the interview was done, people vacated the room and you were left with Paul and Marshall. The plan was to have something to eat delivered in the suite for lunch and then, they would head to the radio station while you went out shopping, waiting for Marshall to be done. 

You did a good job with the interview, Marshall, Paul said. Especially dodging the questions on your personal life. 

Let’s hope it goes just as well on the radio show this afternoon, Marshall shrugged. It’s going to be live, so I can’t really make a mistake on this one. 

I already laid down the ground rules, Paul explained. I think you should be fine. So, I arranged what you asked for, for tonight and afterwards, you have your flight back to Detroit at 10 PM.. 

Are we staying that late ? You asked. 

Yup, Marshall said with a grin. I have plans for us ! I think you’re going to like it. 

Any clues ? 

It’s not funny if you guess before we get there, he chuckled. 

Now, you were definitely curious. You ate and everyone went on their way. You had a couple of hours to spare before meeting with Marshall back at the suite, so you decided to go visit the city, maybe find a couple of cool libraries and cafés. You were ecstatic to discover NYC. You had grown up watching Friends and you had always dreamed of visiting the city one day, maybe even living there. You were like the typical tourist : you took pictures of every cool building or anything remotely interesting that you saw. You also posted a few pictures on your Instagram page, that you had made public again since the rumors had seemed to die down. You would have loved to have Marshall with you, but you decided to make the most of it anyway : if he were around, you’d have security following you and it would be a whole thing. At least, if you were alone, you could just explore in peace. In true bookworm fashion, you entered the first cool-looking bookstore you saw and ended up spending way too much time there, as well as a big chunk of your paycheck. Obviously, you were a sucker for books, in whatever kind or form they came in. You didn’t even see the time, only being reminded of it when your phone buzzed. It was Marshall calling to tell you he was running a little late because of an impromptu selfie-taking session with fans waiting outside of the radio station. You told him it was ok, as you had lost track of time and weren’t too close to the hotel. 

I’ll pick you up with the car, he said. Don’t move, just text me the address of the bookstore. 

It was a blessing in disguise : you had been so reckless in your spending on books that there was no way you’d be able to carry that to the hotel. When you got to the car, your arms were full of books, almost causing you to stumble. 

Thank God we’re not flying commercial, Marshall grinned. Otherwise, you’d spend a fortune on checked luggage. 

I may have gotten a little carried away, you confessed. But this library was so cool ! There were pride flags everywhere, and they have such a great selection on intersectional feminism, like this book on bi-representation in TV shows, as well as this one on body positive issues, and there’s another one on gender identity in the era of social media…

You went on to blab about your purchases for a minute, causing him to chuckle. 

Sorry, you said as you realized you probably got carried away. That’s not really interesting… 

You’re so adorable, he said with a smile. You’re such a cute social justice warrior ! Stevie would love you ! 

Your youngest ? You asked. 

Yeah. She’s really interested in stuff about gender identity. Came out as genderfluid a while ago, actually, he explained. 

Oh. Are “she/her” her preferred pronouns ? 

Anything works, he said. To be honest, it’s making life a little easier for me. I think I'd be stupid enough to make mistakes, so… 

It’s great that you’re supportive, you said with a smile. 

Not gonna lie, I didn’t even know what non-binary and genderfluid meant before she came out to me, he chuckled. But I’m glad she felt comfortable enough to do so. I love her so much, you know ? 

This comment made your heart melt. He was definitely too sweet when it came to talking about his kids. 

Well, you can definitely recommend these books to her, then, you said with a smile. You’d score some feminist points with her. 

I could use that, he chuckled. 

You’re also welcome to borrow them from me, if you want to do some light reading, you added. 

That’s light reading ? He scoffed. Yeah… Thanks but uh… I’ll stick to comic books ! I’m not a big reader, you know ? But if I ever have to fill in a gap in a wall or prop up some furniture, I’ll definitely borrow them ! 

You chuckled and nudged him with your elbow. 

Anyway, I think my girls would really love you ! He said. 

You’ll have to introduce us, then ! So, where are you taking me ? You asked. 

Bergdorf Goodman, he said with a smile. We’re going shopping ! 

Aren’t you afraid you’ll be disturbed by fans if you’re in such a public place ? 

We’re getting the VIP suite, he said with a grin. No one will bother us. 

You opened your mouth but no sound came out. When you thought about living your TV show fantasy in NYC, that wasn’t what came to mind… But you liked shopping and looking at nice clothes as much as the next girl, so you were all for it. When you went to the VIP shopping suite, you were like a kid in a Candy shop. You were offered drinks and a sales assistant came to see Marshall immediately. 

What do you need today, Mr Mathers ? She asked in a sweet voice. 

Ask the boss, he chuckled. She’s the one in charge of my closet. 

Really ? You asked giddily. 

You did a good job styling me for the photoshoot, he said. Plus, last time I checked, our deal still stands, so you might as well choose what I buy, if you’re going to raid my closet… 

You squealed and chose the pieces you wanted the sales assistant to buy from the iPad she presented you with. You were thoroughly enjoying this shopping experience. It was unlike any other. Even when you went shopping with Cassie, it hadn’t been that fancy. Marshall tried on a few things and picked the ones he liked the most. You tried to get him to wear a little more color, but he was a bit reluctant. He also ended up picking a few pairs of sneakers to add to his collection. 

Now, my turn ? He asked with a devilish grin. 

What do you mean your turn ? You chuckled. 

You pushed me out of my comfort zone, I’m doing the same, he said with a smirk. I’m getting you to try on some stuff. 

Oh really ? You asked. Are you turning me into a rapper ? 

I could, he said with a laugh. You like my closet. You’d love it. 

I’m a girl, you pointed out.

So ? Gender is a social construct and clothing has no gender, he grinned. What ? Am I too feminist for you now ?  

Don’t get cocky, Mathers, you joked. I’d like to see you in a dress… 

Well, I’ll have you know that I have worn a few in some music videos, he said with a smirk. I played my own characters. 

You did ?! You exclamed. 

He used the iPad to get on YouTube and show you excerpts from music videos. He was, indeed, wearing dresses, as well as wigs and makeup. You were a bit shocked. 

You’re basically a drag queen, you shrieked. That’s so awesome !!! You need to do that again ! 

I don’t know about that, he chuckled. I got over it, you know ? Plus, with the beard, it’s just not the same. 

I’d like to see that, though, you grinned. Look at you, deconstructing gender ! 

He chuckled and looked proud of himself. It seemed to remind him of fun times. However, he did not lose track of his goal and picked items for you to try on. A far cry from your usual style, definitely more street-wear. On the rack that the sales assistant brought for you, you spotted a jacket similar to the one you had borrowed from him, that you loved so much. 

They have a women’s version, he said with a smile. I thought you might enjoy it. 

Oh my God, you said. It’s so beautiful !!! 

Try it on, he said. 

It fit like a glove. It was absolutely gorgeous. The fit was better than the one you got from him, seeing as it was tailored for a woman’s body. 

What do you think ? He asked. 

I love it, you shrieked. 

Good, he chuckled. Now, try the rest. 

He had picked out some great clothes, namely jeans, hoodies, chains and, of course, Jordan sneakers. He had you dressed from head to toe in a typical Eminem outfit. You were feeling a bit ridiculous, but you did enjoy the jacket and the sneakers. 

I’m getting those for you, he said. 

You’re not, you replied as you shook your head. 

Come on ! Let me have fun ! He pleaded. 

It’s too much, Marshall. 

Please ? He asked. That’ll be your salary. If I’d hired a stylist, I would have paid them. 

You already got me on the flight, you pointed out. 

Whatever. I’m getting these for you or you’re going back to Michigan on foot, carrying those huge books by yourself, he said. 

Fine. Thank you. You’re the best, you said before hugging him. 

You ended up spending quite a bit of time in the store, but you had a lot of fun. You also ended up treating yourself to a nice handbag, to congratulate yourself for remaining sober for a whole month. It was fancy and definitely one of your biggest purchases ever, but you felt like it and could easily afford it, since you were saving a lot of money on rent thanks to Talia and Jamal’s refusal to let you contribute. When you exited the store, your chauffeur was waiting to take you to another destination. 

Where are we going now ? You asked giddily, having the time of your life. 

I would have loved to take you to some touristic places, but I’m afraid it’s going to be complicated if we don’t want to be bothered, he said. But I’m taking you to a really iconic monument in New York. 

After a bit of driving, the car parked in front of the Empire State Building. You were a bit flabbergasted.

Isn’t this place supposed to be highly touristic ? You wondered. Plus, it’s nighttime, so it’s probably closed…

Well, yeah… Except that I know someone who knows someone and I got us dinner in a private room on the highest floor, he chuckled. That way, you will be able to admire the city ! 

You immediately jumped in his arms. 

You’re the best. Seriously, you have no idea… I always dreamed of coming here, when I was a teen and completely broke ! I could cry right now, you said. 

Don’t, he chuckled. Let’s go ! 

You entered the building, escorted by security, and took the elevator to the highest floor. A nice table was waiting for the two of you. The view was absolutely mesmerizing. The city lights were glowing. It was like a dream come true. You jumped in his arms and he made you twirl. You couldn’t believe you were feeling like such a princess. If it wasn’t for the presence of waiters and security, you would have made your move and kissed him. Instead, you just hugged him. 

You’re the greatest, you whispered. 

Happy one month sober, he chuckled. I’m so proud of you, Y/N. 

A waitress came and handed you flutes. You were about to refuse when Marshall stopped you. 

It’s sparkling non-alcoholic wine. And it’s from France, he explained with a smile. Shortly after we met, I remember you telling me you missed French wines, so… 

You’re amazing ! 

He kissed your temple and you toasted to your sobriety. In that moment, you felt good in his presence, and you couldn’t help but think that this man was single-handedly ruining any other men’s chances of ever impressing you. He was just the best at making gestures. You also had a nice dinner and enjoyed the view a little more before going to the airport and boarding the plane. You were both tired on the flight home, and you were about to fall asleep in your seats when the aircraft began shaking. Marshall immediately took you in his arms and you held each other as the captain informed you that it was turbulence. You knew they might not be a big deal, according to the science behind it, but your brain was freaking out. Neither Marshall nor the security people seemed too relaxed either, mind you. Eventually, though, you landed and you couldn’t be happier to be home. As you exited the plane, Marshall got a phone call and you waited for him on the tarmac. He came to you about ten minutes later. 

Is there anything wrong ? You asked as you were wondering why someone would call at almost midnight. 

Oh, that was nothing, he said. It was Nicole, she just got off her shift. 

Nicole…? You asked, not really knowing who he was referring to. 

Yeah, the nurse you met in the ER the other day, he said. I mean, you probably don’t remember, with the painkillers and stuff…

No, no, I know who she is, you said, still not really getting it. Is there anything wrong ? 

No, nothing, he said. She was calling me to confirm our date night tomorrow. 

You looked at him in shock. At that moment, you felt something break inside of you. The plane might not have crashed to the ground, but your heart definitely had.

[suhnshinehaos]

growing pains : act three, part four (2/2)

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor act three, part four wc : ~1.9k

act three : the unexpected love  ➤  part 4 : moving in and moving on

after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting. 

previous  ➤  act three, part four (1/2) next  ➤  act three, part five growing pains ➤  masterlist 

the car ride with mingyu back to your new apartment brought you a comfort that you didn’t quite expect. you had known each other for years at this point, but given the last time you had been alone with him, you were expecting several awkward silences to fill the air.

but it never does.

from the moment he walked past your front door and engulfed you in a hug, and you feel yourself freezing and eventually melting into his arms, you knew it was a foolish thing to expect. this is mingyu, one of your dearest friends, and had it not been for the vagueness of your relationship — or lack thereof — the past couple of years, you would have stayed in his embrace just a while longer.

your walls are still ever so slightly up, and though you receive his words warmly, laugh at his jokes, make little comments in between the stories he tells. you don’t steal longing little glances at him, as you would have done so before, and a small surge of pride courses through your veins.  

“how long are you staying again?” you ask, watching the several buildings go by from the passenger seat window.

mingyu turns the familiar corner the street of your apartment building. “about a month. i have a lot of projects lined up.”

“hm.” you nod, not realizing how long you both would actually be in the same time zone. you never had him with you for more than a week after you finished your studies. “i hope you leave some gaps in your schedule for us.”

although he recognizes the joking tone in your voice, mingyu answers you earnestly. “of course, i will. i know i’d regret it if i don’t- you know, make an effort.”

you turn to look at him, but he’s already looking back. you hold his gaze for only a couple of seconds before staring back ahead. “we appreciate it… did you ever consider being based here instead? i mean- you’ve got friends, family here. don’t you think it’s time to put down some roots?”

mingyu parks the car in front of your apartment building. he lets out a breath before turning to you with a smile and a shrug. “i’m in no rush. i mean, yeah, the constant jet lag isn’t great, the endless rumors are terrible… but, i really do like what i do. we’re young, we’ve got time.”

“no, yeah- i know what you mean. it’s just-” you pause, biting your bottom lip and choosing your next words as carefully as you can. “we do miss you. me, jeonghan, soonyoung, hansol.. not being in uni anymore kind of gave us less excuses to really hang out. and we’re all here, but you-”

“i know too.” mingyu sighs. “are you putting down roots already?”

you shake your head. “i’m not looking too far into the future, and i’m still taking things a day at a time. i also feel like i have so much to accomplish with my career-”

“so not much has changed with you since new york?”

“not exactly. being here gave me stability.. but not in the way that’s unchanging. the kind that makes me feel like i’m on firm footing, and i could move with confidence that i couldn’t before and i don’t have to-” you stop in your tracks, the words you need seeming to escape you. your lips are left parted and you try to catch a breath.

mingyu reaches out a hand and holds yours. his touch is familiar, comforting, but not as much as it used to be. “i get it. you have a constant stream of projects here thanks to referrals from your company, instead of being freelance… and well, i wasn’t exactly the most constant or reliable of partners.”

it’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged whatever it was the two of you had as anything other than a friendship. there’s a sense of understanding that envelops the two of you, and nothing more needs to be said. he knew what he lacked. you know what you need. it is enough.

he retracts his hand, and once again a small space is present between you. 

everything is okay. this is enough. love is there, and unlike seokmin’s where it’s transformed to a kind that’s different but just as powerful, this one slowly fades and mellows out to a more gentle affinity. 

“well, thanks for accompanying me.”

“thanks for insisting on paying for dinner.” mingyu chuckles before nudging his head in the direction of the backseat, where several grocery bags were waiting. “you need any help with those?”

“i’m good.” 

with one quick goodbye, you grab your groceries and head inside the building. the exhaustion from the day finally takes over your body, your shoulders slumping. with all the catching up with mingyu, you never quite noticed how much you had on your mind. 

you were on the latter half of the moving process and most of the things you need were now in your new apartment. you walk in a daze to the elevator, thinking about how minghao was yet to reply to your email on your photos you selected for his approval.

a giant tired breath escapes your lips as you watch the elevator doors close shut.

“wait up!”

you hear someone call and almost immediately your instincts take over and you move to push the button that opens the doors. what you didn’t expect is to be greeted with none other than the presence of xu minghao himself.

you try your best not to let your shock show through as he steps inside, standing just a couple of feet away from you. since you’re much closer to the buttons, you wait for him to tell you what floor he’s on.

“i’m on the eight floor as well.”

“oh.”

the doors shut and you begin to feel the elevator’s gentle upward movement. given your exhaustion and the weight of your groceries, you wobble ever so slightly. minghao reaches a hand to your arm, steadying you, and moves the other to hover behind your back just in case. 

“you okay?”

“i’m fine.” you attempt to say as calmly as you could, moving the arm that he’s holding. minghao immediately lets go, his arms falling to his sides. 

he subtly cranes his head to glance at you. his gaze scans your face and body to examine for any signs of fatigue, which he quite easily finds. minghao didn’t need to know you for very long to notice the bags under your eyes, or the invisible creases between your brows. he points to the bags in your hands. “need any help with those?”

the elevator doors open with bright sounding ding.

“i can handle it. thank you.” your grip is tighter as you move past the doors and walk down the hallway to your new place. you don’t know if it’s a point of pride that made you deny his help, but it was too late to turn back now.

even through the carpeted flooring, you hear his footsteps following from behind you. 

“i guess you’re my new neighbor. if i-“ he pauses, clearing his throat as you both reach the two units on the farthest end of the hallway. you’re both standing in front of your respective front doors, bodies turned to face each other’s. “if i had known someone new was moving in, i would have prepared some sort of gift- like a housewarming gift. but i was away for a few days and-”

“it’s fine, minghao.” you cut him off with a weak smile, shaking your head. “i’ve barely moved in so you haven’t reached the limit of no-housewarming-gift-rudeness.”

you say it blankly, without much trace of emotion, but he still lets out a quiet, dry chuckle. minghao briefly looks down at his feet before looking back up at you. “do you drink tea?”

“um, i-” you tilt your head to the side, confused at the suddenness of the question.

“you should. it’s good for you.”

“i’ll keep that in mind. thanks.” you nod, placing your bags down so you could unlock your door. you turn the doorknob and just as you are about to cross the threshold, you speak out. “it would be great if you could respond to my email, by the way. not that i’m rushing you or anything, it’s just that jun and the rest of the team are waiting.”

“i didn’t receive any email from you.” minghao furrows his brows, a look of pure confusion plastered on his features. “and i check my emails almost every hour, even when i was away these past few days.”

you take a step back, both in shock and slight resentment. “i definitely sent you one.”

“i promise you i did not receive one, yn.”

a string of annoyance within you just snaps when he says your name. whatever disdain you thought you could push down since you’re not exactly in a working environment starts bubbling up from the pit of your stomach. no, you’re sure you sent that email. you even distinctly remember sending a follow up just this morning.

you gently drop the rest of your bags and feel around your pockets for your phone. taking the few steps it takes to walk towards him, you open your email app and scroll through your inbox to find the ones you’ve sent him.    

“look.”

you hand him your phone and you watch as his lips purse and his eyes move back and forth. after a minute of tense silence, he finally hands you your phone back.

“you misspelled my name in my email address.” 

minghao tries his best to inform you of your mistake as gently and as calmly as he can, keeping in mind how exhausted you already seem to me. however, it doesn’t quite register with you as all you wanted in that moment was the ground to come up and swallow you whole.

it takes everything in you to not run towards your apartment and drop the conversation entirely. your knees buckle as you eventually speak, “oh my, i- i’m so sorry.”

“it’s fine.” minghao raises both his hands. “an honest mistake, really.”

“i’ll send it as soon as i get inside.” you quickly turn on your heel and walk back towards your apartment. “sorry again, i’ll see you around.” 

“i’m sure i can get back to you quickly.” minghao’s voice stops you in your tracks just before you’re about to fully enter and leave his line of sight. “i trust your judgement.”

your eyes narrow, trying to decide if he truly means his words or just trying to make you feel better. if it was the latter, you don’t have it in you to protest from all the embarrassment that’s currently surging through body. instead, your lips simply press into a thin line.

“i’ll be waiting then. good night, yn.”

“good night.”

you enter your apartment and rest your back on the front door the second you close it. letting out another heavy breath, you can’t help but wonder what the rest of your days would look like with minghao as your neighbor.   

from reese, with love <3

ooooh- this one was a lot... genuinely, i did not expect this part to be this long.... but i hope you don't mind,,,,, but anyway- the neighbors arc officially begins and if you can't tell this is quite a slow burn.. i'd love to know what you think :> i appreciate all the asks/rbs/replies and it genuinely keeps my spirits up while writing! thank you for reading, i hope you are doing well and taking care !

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 4

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: Here's the first of the completely new chapters. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I wake up to the deliberately annoying sound of my alarm blaring from my bedside. I look out at the still-dark skyline outside and slide off the alarm before checking my notifications. A smile instantly replaces my sleepy scowl as I read the messages that filtered in overnight.

I know it’s late, but I’m wired from sleeping on the flight… even though it was only three hours. I know I should be better at this flying thing with how much I travel for work but I guess I never learn Also…I could get used to you colliding with me 😉 God that was too cheesy, I’m sorry, forget I said anything, I blame the jetlag! I need to stop before I permanently scare you away if it’s not already too late. Good night

I smile at his dorkiness before dragging myself out of bed. As much as I’d love nothing more than to message him back now and text all day, my shift starts in an hour and I need to get ready first. I force myself through the motions of showering, donning my uniform, eating a light breakfast, and brushing my hair and teeth before slipping out the door. The sun is just beginning to rise overhead as I stroll through the quiet streets. As much as I’m not a morning person, I do enjoy this little slice of quiet before the rush of the day.

Once I get to the cafe, I greet the baker who is finalising the baked goods for the day. I help him stock the fridges, leaving the tray of burnt muffins on the bench in the kitchen as per his instructions and then open the store.

With the Christmas rush still in full swing, the morning passes quickly but leaves me exhausted. Once I finally get a break I take one of the slightly burned and therefore, unsaleable candy cane muffins and a bottle of water and sit at a small table out the back of the cafe. I pull out my cracked phone and finally allow myself to reply.

I sell festive drinks & snacks to people who haven’t yet had their morning coffee - It’s gonna take more than a jet lag-induced comment to scare me away Watching you behead someone on TV though, that was rough You sure I can trust you? I promise I’d never hurt you, that is unless I catch you draining someone of their blood Wait! Are you working? I didn’t mean to disturb you Not at the moment I can chat for a bit So, you promise you won’t drink anyone? I get queasy when someone cuts their finger, so no chance My show’s probably not for you then The eye candy’s worth it But I also live alone, so horror is generally a no-go That’s ok. As I said, it’s more interesting to me that you’re not a fan There are no expectations to live up to But eye candy, eh? I don’t know about Dean but there was the vamp was pretty sexy Till he lost his head anyway Oh…🥺 Nah, Dean’s alright too… Though I do think he’s the most scary. I don’t think he would take kindly to wearing a cup of hot chocolate Probably not But he’d find you charming He’d probably use it as an excuse to try and get your number He’d have more confidence than shyly writing his number on a coaster and hoping the pretty girl makes the next move You think I’m pretty? You don’t need to try and flatter me You’ve only seen me when I’m exhausted and covered in rotting milk If you’d seen me on a day when I’d actually put in some effort then maybe I’d believe you Then maybe one day I’ll have to give you a reason to dress up for me Take you on a real date You plan on coming back to New York? It’s not in my schedule yet But maybe in the new year Unless I can tempt you to come to Texas? I live in a single-bedroom apartment in downtown New York And I work in a cafe I can’t afford airfares and hotel accommodations in Texas at Christmas! How about if it was all-expenses-paid? Jensen…

Just as I’m typing a reply my colleague bursts through the backdoor. I check the time and realise it’s been over ten minutes since I came outside. I quickly type out a halfhearted excuse and shut off my phone before scurrying back inside.

Sorry, my break’s over. I gotta get back to work. Talk later

Despite going through the motions; making coffees, heating muffins, and delivering orders, my mind continues to wander back to Jensen’s offer and my lack of response. We barely know each other, how could I let him pay for a holiday in Texas? While a holiday sounds like heaven after working my ass off all year, I refuse to let it be at someone else’s expense, even if that person is a successful and wealthy actor. I refuse to be seen as a gold digger, even in my own eyes. Also, I can’t stand the thought of him finding out my true passion and then accusing me of using him to get a leg up in the industry. By the end of my shift, I decide to come clean about everything.

Back in my apartment, I shower again and change into comfy clothes before collapsing on the couch. I switch on the TV, not caring what’s on, just looking for a little comforting background noise. The random Doctor Phill reruns don’t take long to lull me to sleep.

The continual vibrating of my phone on the coffee table drags me back to the land of the living. I rub my eyes to wake myself up and check who’s blowing up my phone.

I’m sorry if I came on too strong I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable You’re right, we barely know each other I promise I’m gonna stop making stupid comments and just give you space I’m sorry again

I mull over the messages for a few minutes and type and delete multiple replies before mustering up all the courage I can and giving in and pressing the call button instead. I listen to the dial tone for a few rings before he finally picks up. Wanting to smooth things over before he jumps in all apologetically I rush to speak first as soon as the call connects.

“Look, I know we’re texting people, not calling people. But this conversation needed to be had like this.”

“Are you telling me to lose your number? Because I will if that’s what you want.”

“No. I just think we’ve been living in some fantasy, and maybe you’re used to that since you’re an actor. But here in New York, no matter how badly I want to be a performer, I have to live in the real world. Any handouts I take, and any relationships I make will be used against me.”

“A holiday is not a handout. But wait, you want to be a performer?”

“During the year, I took acting and singing classes. I also auditioned for roles on Broadway. But obviously, I didn’t get any of the roles. But I swear, I didn’t recognise you when we met the other day. And I don’t intend to use you to get a role. I’m not a gold digger. I want to do this myself,” I ramble, hoping he believes me.

“Hey, I’m not accusing you of anything. I believe you. I’ve met people who are just trying to use me, I know the signs. So unless you’re a much better actress than I’m giving you credit for..?”

“None of this has been acting. I promise.”

“I believe you.” I hear knocking and someone calling out from the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry. They’re ready for me. I've got to go do soundcheck. Can I call you back later?”

“Soundcheck? Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Bye, Jensen.”

“I’ll call you and explain later…or maybe tomorrow…I promise I’ll call you!”

The line falls silent and I sigh. I drag myself off the couch to make a sandwich. Just as I sit down to eat it my phone starts buzzing again. I glance at the caller ID and answer it with a smile.

“Hey, Stella!” I greet my best friend happily.

“Hey, Bestie! We still on for tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“You promised you’d help me with my wedding! I’m getting married in three weeks and there’s still so much to do!”

“Oh yeah! Of course! I can be there in say 30?”

“You’re the best, Bestie!”

“I know! See you soon!”

I hang up and finish eating my sandwich, clean up, throw on some warmer clothes and head out to catch the subway.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27

[lost-decade]

Dance AU + Criminal AU for any fic involving nico?

Thanks for asking! I enjoyed writing this a lot. Vague angsty past brocedes and a bit of Nico/Mick

**

There’s a painting in Nico’s office in Nice, above the desk so he doesn’t have to look at it very often; first thing in the morning and again in the evening when he leaves. A small reminder of where he began. A little needle of what might have been, and what didn’t come to pass. It keeps him honest, that memory.

It isn’t his own exact likeness, the painting, although people always assume it is and Nico lets them. A beautiful boy, eighteen, nineteen maybe, backstage at a theatre perhaps, en pointe, arms outstretched, angel wings folded on his back. In the corner of the painting there’s a mirror, the reflection of a demon’s face, flared in red, eyes glittering. It had been a gift from one of his father’s friends, the summer before he took up his place at Juilliard.

“You are the dancer,” Michael had said, grinning at him as Nico had stared, transfixed, at the image in the frame. “And who will be your demon?” 

Nico had felt honoured, and unsettled, the way he always did when Michael gave him gifts. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the nature of his father’s business, of Michael’s, and wanted nothing to do with either. 

Later he’d found out the painting was a long vanished Wyeth; but he’d already discovered his demon by then.

Or was Lewis the angel?

He’s stared at that painting for hours across the years and still never been able to make up his mind. Sometimes he thinks Michael only gave it to him as a punishment for turning him down, or because Keke broke their business ties, as if he thought Nico would be stupid enough to display it and get arrested or something.

He hadn’t displayed it, not for years. But it’s different now; there’s enough security staff in the building, cameras he can dial into on his phone. If Lewis or another one of his colleagues from Interpol were to somehow make it through to Nico’s office the Wyeth would already be in the vault by then, something legitimate in its place.

He checks his schedule. It’s been a quiet few months, a lull of the sort that he likes to engineer in between big scores. The buyer in Qatar he thought he’d found for the Brancusi had fallen through and now he’s stuck with a quite identifiable sizable brass cock in a warehouse in Amsterdam that he needs to figure out how to sell. He leans back in his leather Eames office chair, hands clasped as he considers his latest distraction. 

* 

It’s salt in the wound, always, returning to New York, to Juilliard. That’s partly why Nico does it. Scene of his dreams before they dissolved. No one in his life now knows why he walks with a cane, just that something happened once upon a time in New York and that when Keke’s prodigal son had returned to Europe all dreams of dancing had been abandoned, the fancy forced aside allowing Nico to take up his mantle in the family business.

He’s made it his own since then, even branching out. The forgery arm that he’d created has proved more lucrative than his dad’s old fashioned brand of thievery; easier to find someone who’s good at painting than it is to break a team of men into the Uffizi in the middle of the night. Still, sometimes he gets lucky with that. Sometimes there are boys who will do anything because they believe Nico might love them, that he even knows what love is, anymore. 

The jet touches down, a car waiting to take him to the opening night of the New York City Ballet’s fall gala. It’s not really Nico’s type of ballet, this one tonight, he prefers the classics but the dancers are undoubtedly skilled. When he was young, having two men dance a pas-de-deux for an actual public performance was unheard of. There’s something about it that twists in his stomach, a memory that he allows only because he knows it makes him stronger. 

Mick is part of the ensemble, talented enough, yet miles away from the skill of the leads, Nico can see it. He watches them again, the principal dancers, the hypnotic motion of their bodies, the love story played out in the fluidity of their limbs. He sees himself, who he was before. Himself…Lewis. The Lewis he thought he knew, not the Lewis who was his enemy. 

His ankle throbs. A gunshot to the achilles does that to you, even so many years later. 

“Can I ask you about this,” Mick says, later that evening when they’re splayed out naked atop the sheets, bodies damp with perspiration. Nico's hotel room of course, not Mick's student digs, no matter how nice they are now. 

Fucking Mick is a delight heightened by just how much Nico knows Michael would hate it. Giving to the son what he had denied the father. Mick rubs his big toe over the scarred mess of Nico’s right heel. None of his other lovers has ever dared to ask that question. Nico admires the bravura. He turns onto his back, sliding a hand down Mick’s taut stomach. Oh to be so young. Nico is in shape, he eats healthily, goes to the gym four times a week, but still Mick’s twenty years feels like a lifetime away, both physically and mentally. 

“My dance partner put a bullet in me,” Nico says, matter of factly. “He wasn’t who I thought he was.” They were learning each other, not the choreography. All along. Learning how to unravel, searching out any weak spots. Maimed but not caught, though. Nico has never seen the inside of a cell. 

Mick winces, rolls over to look at him. “That’s rough.” 

“Tell me about it. But I guess, in some ways we’re still dancing.” He pauses. “So there’s another reason I came to visit you, actually. Do you know the Whitney Museum? There’s something I’d like you to do for me.”

[sourholland]

ooh! can you do a bestfriends to lovers blurb with tom!! maybe an angry confession or jealousy (anything really, upto you!)

a little more angsty than i imagined but enjoy

feel free to leave a blurb request!

“Why are you so upset,” you breathed, staring at Tom with burning eyes and chapped lips.

He was walking you home from a party in Greenwich, snow crunching underneath your sneakers. He, unlike yourself, was not a New York City native and had no idea where you were half-drunk leading him. Tom was a gentleman, though—when you told him you were only a ten minute walk and wished for air, he refused to let you leave alone.

When you left the party, he had looked rather upset with you and helped you out the door chastely and without a word. He never complained that you hadn’t taken an Uber. The tip of your nose had gone numb and raw with the cold, every few seconds Tom would glance at you as you wiped at it with your sleeve until it grew irritated.

“I’m not upset, who said I was upset?” He shrugged, looking down at his feet.

“You’re acting pissed off,” you tried to brush your arm with his, cheeks aching and flushed with a buzz. “You barely talked to me all night. You just got here yesterday and you told me all week that all you wanted to do on your visit was see me.”

Your voice cracked a bit, he only continued to look at his feet and kick at a few stones on the sidewalk. His nose was running slightly, hair askew and eyes tired from what you could only assume was jet lag. You put a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged you off, shaking his head again.

“Okay, what the fuck?” You finally said, voice raising slightly. “You don’t talk to me all night, now you won’t let me touch you? What’s your problem?”

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, finally looking at you with narrowed eyes. His expression read frustration and disdain, sucking his teeth and inhaling deeply.

“You’re selfish, Y/N. That’s my fucking problem,” he finally spoke.

“What?” You say, tone sharp with confrontation and sarcasm. “How am I selfish? Tell me, please. Enlighten me, Tom.”

“I put work on hold to come here. I begged my team on this next project of mine to postpone meetings and scheduled events. I practically fucking moved my entire next month around to fly to another continent to see you.”

“Tom—“

“No. Let me finish,” he bit back. “I planned my entire visit around you! When I get back to London, I am going to be running myself into the fucking ground to get caught up with things. Then—as if you see this as some big cosmic joke—I get here and you don’t even want to go out alone with me. So I go to your party like you wanted and you somehow end up fucked up enough that you’re in some other guy’s lap before midnight.”

Silence. There was complete and utter silence while you both stood and looked at one another on the desolate and deserted New York City sidewalk. His lips were dry and his nose pink from the cold. He watched you hiccup, still slightly drunk but sobering with his harsh words.

“Selfish,” you finally murmured. “Perhaps you are no so out of line for calling me selfish.”

“No,” he said, shortly. “Perhaps not.”

“Did I ruin everything?” You whispered, wringing your fingers and trying to read him.

Tom stared at you for a long while, he pressed his heel into the snow and finally shook his head slowly. His lips were pressed into a line, his eyes sad, but he gave you a look that said you might still have a chance to reconcile after all. That your selfishness was not so irredeemable.

“I’m not—I’m not good at these things,” you say, breaking the silence once again. “I’m selfish and abrasive and probably have some kind of commitment issues, I don’t know. I’m drunk so just tell me to shut up, but I don’t want to ruin this, whatever it is.”

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay?”

Tom held out a hand that said ‘talk tomorrow’, without words. You nodded and took his cold fingers in your own to walk the rest of the way to your apartment.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

So who's paying for Prince Harry's private jet to NYC?? I suspect he's flying private on a jet that's scheduled to depart Santa Barbara airport and arrive at Teterboro airport (the main airport private jets use for New York City) today. It looks like the one-way flight costs US$85100 before tax. by u/BuildtheHerd

So who's paying for Prince Harry's private jet to NYC?? I suspect he's flying private on a jet that's scheduled to depart Santa Barbara airport and arrive at Teterboro airport (the main airport private jets use for New York City) today. It looks like the one-way flight costs US$85,100 before tax. The tail number indicates the jet belongs to Executive Jet Management (EJM), which is a subsidiary of Net Jets (pal Nacho reps Net Jets, so maybe PH gets a friends and family discount?). According to the flight cost calculator on EJM's website, this one-way trip costs over $85,100, excluding taxes. If the non-profit Archewell has paid for the jet rental, the flight would be exempt from California state sale & use tax but most likely not from the US federal excise tax of 7.5% for passengers. Personally, I suspect Archewell Foundation is paying for this. What do you all think??https://ift.tt/kCEw0yD post link: https://ift.tt/tJC4knG author: BuildtheHerd submitted: September 22, 2024 at 05:57PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[museumgiftshoperaser]

80s New York Art Scene AU for @steddiebang Now on AO3

Written by me with art by @melonalemonade & @dreaminginpencil Beta'd by @lihhelsing & Nevertheless

If Eddie had known that sharing his art studio with Robin would include her buddy Steve, he never would’ve offered it in the first place. There. He said it. If that makes him a bad friend, so be it. Because Steve is around all the time. Pastel and prissy. Sculpted from marble, yet dressed like a Macy’s mannequin. Always hovering. They got Robin’s potters wheel up the stairs last week, a three man effort he can still feel in his lower back, and now she’s fucking teaching him. Full on, arms wrapped around his waist, hands guiding hands. Someone grab him a bucket, ‘cause Eddie’s about to throw up. He’s not even good at it. Steve can barely get the hump of clay centered on the wheel and he refuses to get stains on his clothes. It’s fucking clay. It comes out in the wash. Steve’s shirtless approach to pottery is borderline offensive to the arts.

More information under the cut:

The posting date is less than two weeks away and I'm beyond excited to start sharing this fic with you guys! I've been working on it since January and it's the longest thing I've ever written. This story is absolutely drowning in 80s neo-expressionist art, graffiti and street art. Think Jean Michel Basquiat and Keith Haring. Everything about this fic is covered in paint <3

Posting Schedule: Nov. 7: Prologue + Chapter 1 - "Takes One to Know One" Nov. 10: Chapter 2 - "You've Done This Before" Nov. 14: Chapter 3 - "The Boy From California" Nov. 17: Chapter 4 - "A Regular Thing" Nov. 21: Chapter 5 - "You Don't Have to Tell Me" Content warnings for: Past abusive relationship, mentions of abuse during childhood, addiction, slighty toxic relationship, period typical homophobia and mentions of homophobic parents, mentioned death of a parent, explicit sex scenes with dom/sub undertones I've got a little snippet for you here:

“Ta-dah,” Robin says with a big smile and an even bigger hand gesture.  She stretches her arms like a big reveal, which only highlights how small the studio is. Both of her hands almost touch a wall. Eddie’s normally fucking proud of this space, but Steve’s presence is ruining it. It’s one of the reasons he hates rich people. The world always looks like shit through their eyes. A crease forms between Steve’s eyebrows, an expression Eddie has seen him make several times in the thirty minutes he’s known the guy. “This part is mine!” Robin says, sounding genuinely excited. She’s the only rich person Eddie respects. He cleared out the room directly to the right of the entrance for Robin. It’s slightly smaller than his own, but she agreed to it before she left to spend all of June and July with her mother in California. She said it had better light anyway, which Eddie doesn’t give a fuck about.  There’s something twitchy about Steve’s movements. He baby birds his way across the space, like he doesn’t realize he has wings yet. Anxious, which, what the fuck? What did Eddie do to deserve that? Steve’s nose scrunches like he smells something he disapproves of. “I really don’t like this part of the city,” he says and he looks out the window like that proves his point. “Do you have to work here?”  Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. He promised Robin he’d play nice, but surely these are extenuating circumstances.  “We don’t all have daddy payin’ our bills,” he says with a pout and a lilt that borders on sexual. Just to piss him off. Just to make everyone uncomfortable. Robin blinks a few times fast and shakes her head. Count that as a win.  “I don’t…” Steve stutters before collecting himself. “I just want Robin to have a nice place to work.”  “And I’d like a pony and a private jet, but we can’t all get what we want,” he says and he really should stop there. But… “Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”  He doesn’t even have to wink this time. A blush stretches all the way to Steve’s ears. His eyes deepen from shock to anger like a bruise turning dark purple on day three. Yup. Worth it.  “Eddie, could you please just behave,” Robin groans. “We still have to get the rest of my stuff.” “I can help you with that tomorrow,” Steve says, still flushed, but pretending like he isn’t. It’s a sweet offer until he turns to look Eddie up and down and adds: “So we can get out of here now.”  “That would be great.” Robin looks up at Steve. “I could really use a drink, you?”  There’s those puppy eyes again. Steve’s whole face lights up and he nods quickly.  “You coming, Eddie?” She wiggles her fingers at him. “First round on me?” An offer to get drinks with his best friend and this random guy who makes him want to rip his own hair out? Fuck no. He has some sense of self preservation, thank you very much.  “I’m just gonna work on my painting for a bit.” Robin rolls her eyes at him before pushing Steve back toward the front door. “Go home on time, okay?” she yells over her shoulder. “The painting’s gonna be here in the morning.”  “Yeah, yeah…” He waits by the door until he can no longer hear their footsteps on the stairs. Once he’s confident they’re gone, he grabs the sheet turned blanket from the crate behind his easel. He never bothers with pajamas, just unbuckles his overalls and lets the pants sag around his hips as he sinks into the couch. It’s easier that way. If Robin comes back he can just tell her he was taking a nap. Sweatpants and a sleep shirt would be a dead ringer that sleeping here isn’t just a one off. He’s been doing it since he got evicted in April, but what Robin doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

[mariacallous]

WASHINGTON — Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy on Sunday will visit the Pennsylvania ammunition factory that is producing one of the most critically needed munitions for his country’s fight to fend off Russian ground forces.

He is expected to go to the Scranton Army Ammunition Plant to kick off a busy week in the United States shoring up support for Ukraine in the war, according to two U.S. officials and a third familiar with Zelenskyy’s schedule who spoke on the condition of anonymity to provide details that were not yet public. He also will address the U.N. General Assembly annual gathering in New York and travel to Washington for talks on Thursday with President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris.

The Scranton plant is one of the few facilities in the country to manufacture 155 mm artillery shells. They are used in howitzer systems, which are towed large guns with long barrels that can fire at various angles. Howitzers can strike targets up to 15 miles to 20 miles away and are highly valued by ground forces to take out enemy targets from a protected distance.

Ukraine has already received more than 3 million of the 155 mm shells from the U.S.

With the war now well into its third year, Zelenskyy has been pushing the U.S. for permission to use longer range missile systems to fire deeper inside of Russia.

So far he has not persuaded the Pentagon or White House to loosen those restrictions. The Defense Department has emphasized that Ukraine can already hit Moscow with Ukrainian-produced drones, and there is hesitation on the strategic implications of a U.S.-made missile potentially striking the Russian capital.

Russian President Vladimir Putin has warned that Russia would be “at war” with the United States and its NATO allies if they allow Ukraine to use the long-range weapons.

At one point in the war, Ukraine was firing between 6,000 and 8,000 of the 155 mm shells per day. That rate started to deplete U.S. stockpiles and drew concern that the level on hand was not enough to sustain U.S. military needs if another major conventional war broke out, such as in a potential conflict over Taiwan.

In response the U.S. has invested in restarting production lines and is now manufacturing more than 40,000 155 mm rounds a month, with plans to hit 100,000 rounds a month. During his visit, Zelenskyy is expected meet and thank workers who have increased production of the 155 mm rounds over the past year.

Two of the Pentagon leaders who have pushed that increased production through — Doug Bush, assistant secretary of the Army for acquisition, logistics and technology and Bill LaPlante, the Pentagon’s top weapons buyer — are also expected to join Zelenskyy at the plant, as is Gov. Josh Shapiro, D-Pa.

The 155 mm rounds are just one of the scores of ammunition, missile, air defense and advanced weapons systems the U.S. has provided Ukraine — everything from small arms bullets to advanced F-16 fighter jets. The U.S. has been the largest donor to Ukraine, providing more than $56 billion of the more than $106 billion NATO and partner countries have collected to aid in its defense.

Even though Ukraine is not a member of NATO, commitment to its defense is seen by many of the European nations as a must to keep Putin from further military aggression that could threaten bordering NATO-member countries and result in a much larger conflict.

[madhatterbri]

Football Games | Bayley

Summary: Football games with the role model

Author's Note: Super self-indulgent. From my fall prompts list found here.

Bayley Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @emperorrose3000 @magicalbuttertarts

Y/N smiled at the woman in front of her. Their fingers locked together. A red football jersey stuck out from underneath the black leather jacket. This was the first 49ers football game they could make together this season. Between her busy travel schedule and other obligations, it had been a struggle.

"You ready, baby?" Bayley asked as she presented the tickets to security.

Watching games with Bayley was always fun, whether at home or the stadium. They were both avid football fans. When they couldn't make it to the game, they would snuggle together on the couch at home. Y/N would lay on the couch with Bayley in her arms. They would cheer or boo depending on the outcome of the game.

"Ready when you are," Y/N smiled. The couple walked to their seats at the club level. Normally, they would sit out in the stands, but they didn't want her to be accosted by fans. They wanted to bask in each other's company.

The game started as scheduled. Bayley had her arm around Y/N. Whenever the 49ers scored, they kept up with their tradition. Each point the 49ers scored meant one kiss. Some games mean a lot of kisses. Tonight was one of those nights since they were playing the New York Jets.

By the end of the game, Y/N swore she couldn't feel her lips. Of course, she didn't mind. As much as she hated seeing Bayley lose the championship, at least she had more time at home.

"Another 49ers victory," Y/N squealed as they walked to the car.

Bayley rubbed her girlfriend's hand with her thumb. "Another game with my favorite girl,"

Y/N blushed and smiled at her. "Your favorite girl loves you too,"

[love-kurdt]

hey guyssss! i’m in italy for 2 weeks (this has been in the works for the past 5 years) so u best bet i’m ecstatic to be here!!

the unfortunate yet inevitable downfall: i had to leave my cat back home in new york with a family friend. i thought i knew pain… but then i had to say goodbye to my little itty bitty baby precious angel sweetie kitty. i’m in shambles. i cried the whole way to the airport. it’s like i lost a child, even though she’s alive and completely well. i can’t cope without her. and i’m stuck in a hotel room with my parents while they sleep off the jet lag (my sleep schedule is fucked up since i’m basically already on european time, so i’m trying to write SSCL32 while i wait, but i just made mike mention cats having nine lives and i’m crying again lmfaooooo).

wtf do i do pls send help (or a distraction)