#Two-Tier Rack

[storagedi-blog]

One type of storage system cannot satisfy the requirements of all kinds of clients. The range of storage solutions provided by Darshan Industries are designed keeping in mind the specifications of the customers and are suitable for low rise shelving.

LINK:https://www.storagedi.com/motorized-pallet-racking.html

[queenbirbs]

Fleet: I had this idea…

Clara: Yes?

Fleet: I thought you might like to go to the theatre.

Clara: I’m sorry?

Fleet: The theatre. Today. Catch a matinee.

Clara: Archibald Fleet, are you inviting me to a social activity? Like a friend might?

[afterthelambs]

Oh my god haikyuu is so right volleyball is so FUNNNN

[jethroq]

had a bit of an embarassing rigamarole where I bought a shoe rack from one place, then went next door where I had a gift card, and found a bigger show rack for cheaper, and I hadn’t take. the receipt at the first place. lucky enough, they could pull the receipt from their system because it was recent and allowed me to return it.

[cosmictech04]

Upgrade your storage efficiency with Cosmictech, the premier Two-Tier Racking Supplier in Dubai. Our innovative solutions maximize space utilization, perfect for warehouses and industrial facilities. Cosmictech offers robust and customizable two-tier racking systems designed to optimize your storage capacity while maintaining accessibility. Experience unmatched quality and reliability with our expertly engineered solutions. Elevate your storage infrastructure with Cosmictech today. For more visit cosmictech.ae

[edwardkinsellaillustration]

Home Bar - Traditional Home Bar Seated home bar - mid-sized traditional l-shaped medium tone wood floor and brown floor seated home bar idea with recessed-panel cabinets, black cabinets, granite countertops, beige backsplash, ceramic backsplash and an undermount sink

[aavonsteels]

Discover the best quality Pallet Racking System, multi-tier Racking System , and display Racking System solutions with Aavonsteels.

[saisa-sound]

Home Bar - Traditional Home Bar

[chaos0pikachu]

nah okay, one of the best top-tier kinnporsche scenes is undoubtedly when Chay got his little gay baby heartbroken and instead of playing tear drops on his guitar like the other bl uni boys he went full on shojo heroine and dyed his hair fucking blueberry blue, snagged an off the rack sleeveless t-shirt, went out with his apparent friend group to hit up a dank busted club, choked down two glasses of lower shelf fireball and then as he's living his best-worst dancing on my own by robyn life and some rando is like hey babygirl lemme whisper in yo ear and tries to give him some off-brand ecstasy that looked more like those dissolvable tablets your parents fed you when you were 11 and tasted like ass paper when

BAM IN COMES KIM WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!! giving off "only I can call chay babygirl and my rights were revoked so your ass DEF can't call him that" energy and smacking away the discount walmart drugs pulling chay away by his goodwill tank top and Rando is like "hey I was shooting my shot!" and kim knocks that man on his ASS with the most emotion he's had the whole show bug eyed and clenched jaw like he was gonna rip old dudes throat out with his teeth pointing his finger at him like "DARE said no drugs!" while Chay's other friends in the back are like "BEYONCE???" (new york voice) b/c kim montana just kidnapped chay and almost dog walked their other friend in the middle of the club

[pha55ed]

Anchor | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: hurt/comfort tw/cw :: none contains :: kimi!, paul, pepe request :: Hey, hope you're all good. I loved the fics that you wrote for the kimi bday special, and wanted to know if you could do the "anchor" one with also paul and maybe Isack or anyone you prefer. (i don't write for isack sadly :( but i did pepe instead to make up for it! i'll try and learn about isack soon, he seems cool) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Freezes the second he sees you. Every thought goes through his head, he's a chronic over-thinker since he's so logical. Even though you haven't said a word to him yet, since you were busy crying on the living room couch, he's already assumed that he's done something wrong. He awkwardly walks up to the couch, trying to examine the scene before he talks.

He tries to see if you're hurt physically, if your body language is closed off or open, and whether or not you're having breathing problems - all so he can handle the situation perfectly. So if he sees your body language is closed off, crying nonstop, and you're breathing is rapid, he knows he needs to calm you down instantly and try to not touch you to make you uncomfortable.

But when he sees you're crying, slightly shaky breathing, and your body language being open to him - he rushes to give you a big hug. He instantly wraps his arms around you and gives you a small kiss on your head.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He asks as he cups your face in-between his two hands. "Do you need anything? What can I do?" His questions are kind of overwhelming, but he has the purest intentions. He's kind of like a nurse, asking a million questions to do their best to accomdate for you.

If you answer his questions, he'll do everything you do asap. He's like the Flash, you don't even know how he did those tasks so fast. But if you can't speak since you're too stressed out, he understands and just stays beside you, hugging you still.

He'll move his hand up and down your back while the other stays near your heart on your back - he's monitering how fast your heart is beating. He tries soothing you in other ways, like brushing your hair, saying reassurances, or giving you kisses, and then he takes note of which calms your heart rate down the most and keep doing those things.

Overall, an amazing comforter. The more and more you cry, the more experience he racks in so he'll be the top-tier therapist that you could ever ask for.

Paul Aron | 17

When he saw you crying on your bathroom floor, sobbing quietly into your hands whilst you let your phone play sad music - he could feel his heart break. Although he's always been more reserved emotionally than other drivers, you were his soft spot. Any pain to you instantly hurt him too.

Right away, he wanted to ask what was wrong, but the words wouldn't come out of his throat for some reason. He could tell that silence was the best way to help you, to not pressure you into saying too much. He sat down next to you, leaning against the wall with you.

His hand reached for your knee, rubbing it in a soothing way. Gently, he asked, "Are you okay?" he knew the answer was no but wanted you to admit it. When he saw you shake your head, he felt his lips turn to a frown on it's own.

He reached over for some toilet paper, making a neat stack as he used it to wipe your tears. There was barely any pressure on the tissue, it felt as if a feather was brushing you. As he wiped your tears, he spoke in a low yet gentle tone.

"You don't need to tell me... But if you do, I'll listen." He says, continuing to wipe your tears. "Or,,, if you want me to leave, I'll do that too."

Being with Paul didn't feel uncomfortable like it did with others. Even with your therapist, you still felt awkward with her at times. But with Paul in the room, there was no pressure to speak or even move. He accepted you for who you are.

If you choose to open up, he listens to every word you say and nods. He comforts you, pats your back, and brushes his fingers through your hair to soothe you.

If you choose to not speak, he respects that and doesn't push you on it. But he is much more aware of your mood for the week following that. It's not in a pity way, but more so to check on you and make sure you're not working too hard. So, he does small things like doing your dishes, fixing your table, etc. He just wants you to relax and cool down from a hard week.

Pepe Marti | 21

When he sees you crying in your bed, wrapped up in a little ball as you hid under the sheets - he froze for a second. He's usually able to predict if you're upset at least a day or two before. So seeing you break down was a shock to him, he feels awful for not seeing your stress beforehand.

He instantly runs to you and tries to soothe you right away, trying his best to calm you down. Sitting you up on the bed while he kneeled on the floor next to you. Using his hands, he wipes your tears, sweeping them to the side.

"Amor, what's wrong?" He ask you tenderly, "You can tell me..." His voice was soft to listen to, soothing to your ears. He kept using open hand to catch your tears while the other was on your shoulder, rubbing circles.

But he understands that sometimes you still need time to process what's happening before you can talk about it. So, if you're not ready to speak about what happened at the moment, he understands and lets you have some space. But once you're calmer, he'll ask you again.

Not because he wants to force you to talk, but he knows that explaining your emotions and venting will get rid of those feelings even faster. But if you still aren't ready, he wont' force you - he'll jsut always check up on you.

After that day, he makes sure to be slightly more gentle with you. But he knows how degrading it can feel to be treated like a baby after you cry, so he doesn't' try to treat you too differently. He still makes little jokes at you but he adds a kiss to your forehead at the end, to assure you that he's just joking.

He'll wait forever until you're ready to tell him what's wrong. He doesn't care how long it takes, as long as you tell him one day and you're comfortable telling him.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I love the idea that their wives know that they actively hate each other but continue badgering them to go on double dates together because the sex afterwards is fucking top tier shit.

Oh! Two local contriversially young wives are plotting against their husbands, breaking news! Seriously, the friendship of Mrs.Price and Mrs.Konig is like 15 percent of genuine feelings and 85 percent of desire to see the world of their partner's burn. I can imagine Mrs.Price being roped into a relationship with the man who spends more time with his soldier boys than with his young and bored wife, so she just kinda went to slumber parties with her bestie every time Price is on the long deployment. Who cares that it's a 2-hour flight from the UK to Austria?? Mrs.Price is less restricted in her movements because Price is confident in his ability to keep a woman around him without a ball and chain, and also in his ability to rack her down more easily, so you can say that his wifey is far more free and tame at the same time. Mrs.Konig is basically a traumatized kitten stuck in her house, she needs friends( Konig is always so so rough after meetings with Price, he hates this old dog so much!!! He literally got himself a young pretty wife and ignores her to focus on his dumb missions, he is horrible to women! Now, the Austrian puppy wants to show Mrs.Konig all the love he has for her, just to prove that he is far better than this old man, he has stamina and desire to please! Price is also jealous and kinda nervous about his wifey going to Konig's house and roping him into meetings( she is so dumb and naive, these guys are dangerous freaks!! Captain needs his special girl to ride him and remind him of how he is definitely not too old for her and actually in a perfect shape all the time!! Now, imagine Price and Konig pinning after same girl...

[pinkrelish]

do you think once miss mouse and eddie were in an established relationship she’d bake cakes for his and adrie’s birthday every year?? i feel like she’d go full out for adrie like full on multi tiered princess cake and the first time she does it eddie and his baby just go absolutely feral in the best way possible

ps typ is my favourite slow burn EVER i love it withh all my heart ur so talented

today's my birthday so it seems fitting to answer this! wc: 496

morning dawns soft blue in a kitchen warmed by low lights, and orange coils. a kettle boils water too hot for a third cup of instant coffee, and cooked sugar enriched by vanilla bakes through the small apartment. suffocating heat from the oven on the early june day breaks sweat on your forehead as you re-whip the frosting you made an hour ago, plastic bowl in your arms still cold from the fridge. the yellow cake cooling on the rack simple, homemade. jack of all trades, master of none, it's nothing impressive, just something to tide adrie and neighborhood kids over until the big party on the weekend.

still, when your big snoring man shuffles in with a bedhead halo and plaid pajama pants with one drawstring longer than the other, his raw wonder catches the husky sleep deep in his throat—"aw, baby, what're you doin'?"

you shrug, too shy to admit how early you woke up to do this, suddenly embarrassed with your effort to make a good impression on his daughter's first birthday with you in her life. he had no clue what you had planned for her real cake, and already your cheeks went hot from the lovesick shine flooding his eyes, big softy about to cry while he scratched his stomach under his shirt.

"you're too much," he says in a shake of his head. too much on a thursday morning when her party comes saturday afternoon.

his bare feet scatter the balloons creeping across the carpeted floor, blown up by him late last night until he felt faint, and ready to be popped in the energetic rush of cake for breakfast. on his way to you, he passes the one wrapped gift of a latch hook rug kit beneath the happy birthday banner you hung crooked even with his help. it was a creativity driven present to keep her busy before she got her big girl bike in two days time. training wheels most definitely included.

any second now adrie would run through the streamers you both taped to the top of her door frame, so eddie made quick work of putting the frosting aside and smothering kisses atop your head, wielding his dad strength to hug you tight to his chest, steering you into a twirl by his hold on your wrists, rocking from foot to foot until your back was crushed to his front.

tucking his chin to mash his nose to your hair, his heavy hum vibrates through your skull as he surveys the usual munson fare mingling with your new traditions, slowing your bodies to a gentle sway until his sigh empties from his lungs. "you mean everything to us, you know that?"

"i know that," you answer so softly it was lost in the bubbling hiss from the kettle before he shut off the burner. "you're everything to me, too."

"thank you, baby."

"thank you, handsome." thank you for this moment, this family, this love.

[itsabouttimex2]

Today my Birthday, so how would the yanderes react to reader Brithday?

LMK Birthday Reactions

MK, Sun Wukong, Chang’e

(Happy birthday, dear! Have a wonderful day!)

So many handmade gifts- each one is lovingly decorated and delivered, wrapped with red and yellow ribbon. And MK is so eager about it, too. No matter what type of person you are, it’s pretty much impossible not to smile and thank him.

The delivery boy invites himself in the moment you open the front door, but not before throwing himself into your arms for a big tight hug. After ushering you to the couch, MK starts to unload his gifts into your hands.

A hand-drawn letter with glitter and sparkly bits of confetti. A giant sack of food he made (with Pigsy’s input and advice), and grocery store cupcakes frosted with your favorite color. And something along the lines of a plush or poster from a media franchise that you love.

And he’s so, so sweet about it that you don’t even think to ask how he found your address.

Our dear Sun Wukong is, put simply- loaded. There’s no end to the treasures and antiques he has to offload, and it’s not like any buyer is going to try and scam the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He’s racked more than a bit in terms of funds, and isn’t afraid to dote on a well-behaved captive friend/student/child.

(Or he’ll shamelessly and happily steal. That’s also a very real possibility, let’s be honest.)

Lego Sets? He’ll have them stacked to the ceiling. A new console? He’ll bury it in games to match. Books? He’ll have a crate of classics delivered to the front door. Jewelry? He’ll dig a few precious pieces from his treasury and pay/coerce a jeweler into fixing them up.

Lots of food and treats, and isn’t above throwing you a small party if you’re friends with MK and Mei- hell, the simian will even let you invite Red Son. He’ll (his clones, actually) set up a nice little room with a store-bought cake or two and catered food from Pigsy’s Noodles. He’ll bust out a few games (think Jackbox) and let you have a nice, happy day.

And honestly, that’s all he wants- for you to be happy… in close proximity to him, under his watchful eye, locked up tight in his house.

Really, is that so much to ask for?

Oh, so very many exotic and wonderful treats. All handmade and delectable, created from top-quality ingredients and with hours of love and centuries of experience.

Chang’e makes each one with all of her heart, pasted your adorable name in frosting a hundred times over, across every cupcake and cookie and three-tier cake. She’ll set the “imperfect” pastries aside to have their frosting smudged into swirls, donated to shelters or food banks. Her baby deserves only the very best that she has to offer.

She’s prone to tending towards cutesy gifts, like sparkly stellar accessories and glittery plushes. Perfumes, matching clothes, make-up… the moon goddess is so very generous and sweet with her presents. Also, given how tech-savvy and modern-trending she seems to be, Chang’e definitely lavishes you with quite a few gift cards for online shopping.

Really, such an absolute sweetheart. So sweet that you might even forget that you’re spending another birthday on the moon without any friends, without any family aside from the goddess herself.

And maybe you won’t even notice that that’s just the way she wants it.

[cosmictech04]

Elevate Your Storage Solutions with Cosmictech - The Leading Two-Tier Racking Supplier in Dubai

Looking to maximize your warehouse space efficiently? Look no further! Cosmictech, the top Two-Tier Racking Supplier in Dubai, offers cutting-edge solutions tailored to your needs.

With our two-tier racking systems, you can optimize storage capacity without compromising accessibility. Our sturdy and customizable racking options ensure seamless organization, enabling you to streamline operations and enhance productivity.

Whether you're storing heavy-duty equipment or delicate items, we have the perfect solution for you. Our two-tier racking systems are designed to withstand heavy loads while maintaining structural integrity, ensuring long-lasting performance and reliability.

Say goodbye to cluttered warehouses and hello to efficient storage solutions with Cosmictech. Contact us today to learn more about how our Two-Tier Racking Supplier in Dubai can revolutionize your storage space. Trust us for all your warehouse optimization needs.

[kuromi-hoemie]

my stupid add brain picking the chemically rewarding Project Work and telling me "ok we'll do The Chore in the morning" (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠) LMAOOOOO.

now I'm sweaty tho and y'all got me over here sexualizing my Own sweat (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠) umm

me: watch one episode with your dinner then do your chores

me after one episode: ..... i um ... another?

[owlespresso]

bedtime stories III. jing yuan. tags: not beta read lmao, jing yuan babies u

You do not love Jing Yuan, and that’s what makes him easy to come home to. To love, to want, is to place your beating heart in the hands of another—is to risk the deadly creep of mara, gingko gold and bitter.

Jing Yuan is easy to come home to because there is no fanfare. In the palest hours of the morning, when the moon hangs low in the sky, you rest your working shoes next to his boots in the foyer. Sometimes, it takes hours to come across him.

The estate is large, and he spends much of his time in the gardens, or in his study, or asleep in bed. You creep in quietly, always, slow and silent as winter’s first snows. Footsteps mouse soft and body obscured by looming shadow.

You avoid the master bathroom. The one on the bottom floor is just as cavernous, a luxurious space complete with a fancy shower, two sinks and a tub easily large enough to fit four. Your toiletries ans soaps make their home in the tall, multi-tiered shelf in the corner. On any other day, you would scrub yourself of the day’s grime before luxuriating in the tub, letting its oatmilk infused waters melt away your anxieties. It’s a part of your routine that you’ve come to look forward to the most, away from the doting hands and knowing smiles of your part-time paramour.

You open the door, and freeze in place, blinking at the hulking form of one Jing Yuan, clad in a cozy, grey robe. You look at him, and he looks at you, lips curling into a delicate smile. His eyes crinkle with it, genuinely delighted to see you. Something in your gut squirms.

“Ah. Welcome back,” he says, toweling off his face. “You look like you’ve had a long night.”

Your skin prickles with discomfort at the nonchalance he reads you with, as he stands in a space you have come to know as your own—which is silly, you know, because it is his house, and his hospitality you so freely encroach upon.

It’s stupid. It’s paranoia, but you can’t help but wonder if he’s done this on purpose—

“It was fine,” you reply, just a little curt. You snatch a fluffy towel from t he nearby rack and wet it. “Still no leads. We’re no closer than we were last week to finding the guy.”

“Mm.” Jing Yuan nods, contemplative. “It comes as no surprise. The individual in question likely traveled as far from the Luofu as they could—and Galaxy Rangers are notoriously difficult to track.” he g;ances down at you, at the cloth clutched in your hard grip. “Allow me?”

“What?” you blink. He plucks the poor piece of fabric from your cramping hands. You’re too surprised to stop him. The day has stolen from you your usual reflexes, long hours spent sifting through the dive bars and dim taverns Galazy Rangers ave been known to frequent whilst aboard. You’ve batted your eyelashes and pulled scraps of information off the wagging tongues of their susceptible patrons. It had all been useless, in the end. Just drunkards eager to brag about better days and past, undoubtedly exaggerated achievements. You stand there as he pumps a dollop of your face wash onto the towel.

The oversized sleeve of his robe dips down to his elbow, exposing the toned muscle of his pale forearm. You behold it for a flash, and then the towel is warm on your cheeks. Jing Yuan hums while he does it, touch tender yet firm. The soap suds against your skin. He’s careful around your eyes, and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to notice they have indeed closed, lulled shut but his gentility. 

“How about I run you a bath?” Jing Yuan murmurs as he rinses you, taking great care to not scrape your tender skin. He blots, rather than drags. One, massive hand comes to cradle your jaw—a move that on any other night would have sent you reeling.

“I’m just gonna take a shower,” you mumble as he dries you off, plush fabric wicking away the remaining moisture.

“I’m alright,” he sighs, striding around you—you presume to exit, but then his fingers and playing up your sides, jolting you from the warm stupor. “At least allow me to help you out of this, then.” His breath brushes the shell of your ear. His fingers toy with the zipper at the back of your dress, a classy black number that’s been hidden away in the depths of your closet until now.

“Sure. Be my guest,” you shrug, as if you wouldn’t have asked him regardless.

He’s delicate, in the way he undoes it. The cool zipper glides slowly over your spine. His other hand slips its straps off your shoulders, rumbling in approval when you shimmy out of them yourself. The sound is deep, almost inaudible, felt more than heard. It’s in your best interest to suppress your shivers, promptly busying yourself with kicking off your stockings. The moment of odd tension dissipates and the dress comes off, slid down to your knees.

You expect him to just drop it. He doesn’t. Perplexed, you glance over your shoulder and find the general knelt on the bathroom tile behind you. He looks up at you with a coquettish glint in his eyes while you are jarred by the consideration he shows to even your possessions. It awakens something ugly in you, something wet and shriveled and bleating. The feeling washes over you like a douse of cold rain.

“Well?” Jing Yuan raises a brow, curl of his lips just a bit mischievous. Silently, face aflame, you step out of your dress. He folds it over his arm and smiles at you, so exposed and undone, and does he even know that? “Come to me when you’re finished.” He says, honey sweet, like he’s soothing you. “I’ll get us some snacks, okay? Take as much time as you’d like.”

He doesn’t ask which ones, because he already knows your favorites. You stand beneath the spray and convince yourself that the general is just being exceptionally kind, that it’s only natural for him to keep you close and healthy while you investigate at his behest. After you capture the Galaxy Ranger who so foolishly infiltrated last month’s IPC-sponsored banquet, this will all come to a sudden, unceremonious end.

You wash off the day’s grime, the sweat and the smell of smoke and cheap booze from your earthly form. The weariness, as much as you wish it would follow suit, still clings.

The towels Jing Yuan keeps stowed in the small bathroom closet are massive on you, and downy soft. Each tender brush of the fabric against your naked skin makes you feel swaddled. You trudge the familiar path to his bedchambers. His home is nice, but Jing Yuan is here even less than you are. He indulges in only a few, choice things—his bed being one of them. When you enter, he is sat on a cluster of furniture surrounding a cypress coffee table, bowls of fresh fruit and tempting sweets laid across it in a few, modest portions. Enough for the dinner you admittedly skipped.

“You didn’t have to,” you say flatly.

“How could I not, when we so rarely dine together? Come,” your general orders, and so you take a seat next to him. You’re wedged between his hulking form and a plush cushion, a blanket thrown over the sofa’s back. It’s prettily patterned with stripes and repeating triangles—not from the Luofu, you think, but are promptly wrenched from that train of thought as a piece of sliced peach is pressed against your lips. You blink. Jing Yuan beams when you tentatively open, taking the piece onto your waiting tongue.

“Good?” he asks while you chew. You nod, and he seems oddly contented, wearing an expression you have only seen him wear after he emerges victorious in an especially close game of star chess. You can’t figure out why, but you nod and swallow anyways.

Now that you are bathed and off your aching feet and away from prying agzes, you can feel your appetite returning, clawing at your stomach with a vengeance. That’sthe only reason why you accept a second piece from his calloused fingers, and then a third.

“You didn’t eat dinner today, did you?” Jing Yuan inquires once the fruit is all gone. He licks the remaining juice off his fingers, sharp canines flashing with each broad sweep of his tongue. “Perhaps I should start packing you lunch every day? Yanqing tells me my cooking is much improved since I started.” he teases, and you’re struck by the visual of you, walking inside the Seat of Divine Foresight, with a brightly colored lunch box in hand like a child being sent off to school. Your mortification at the very idea must show on your face, because he laughs at you. “What’s with that expression? Do you truly have such little faith in me?”

“No!” you splutter, and look away, at the dim lamp on is nightstand. “I can take care of myself. I wouldn’t presume to take up so much of the general’s time.” you say, voice curling with the barest hint of sarcasm. 

“I am a general, but I am also a man like any other,” Jing Yuan hums. He wrangles you with a strong arm, draws you into his side. Cradled so close, you can smell him—ffresh from a recent bath, clad in only the softest of robes. And warm, warm above and below and everywhere. “And any man is obligated to care for what is most precious to him.” He murmurs. His voice vibrates through his chest. Warm as a hearth, steady as the sun-warmed earth.

You’re a little too dazed to make sense of it all, right now. But he has implied something severe, something you ignore because you are not strong enough to face, yet. Wind erodes stone and the tides weather the shore—but lightning splinters trees and sparks fires. You pretend not to hear the bolt as it lands, drawn from his soft lips.

He shoves a cracker up to your mouth. You eat from his hands with no hesitance, because you really are so tired. Tired enough to barely listen to the soft timbre of his voice as he describes his day—one-sided quarrels with the master diviner, a ceremony in Aurum Alley to celebrate its recent rebirth, the sparrows which frolic in his garden. You’ve seen them, fluttering from branch-to-branch, little things which land on his shoulders and chirp in welcome and receive soft kisses on their little heads for their trouble.

The general is kind to all creatures, you think, half-asleep. He moves around you, porcelain clinking quietly as he gathers the empty bowls and cleaned plates.

It’s not good to sleep so soon after a meal, but you’re helpless to the siren song of sweet sleep. You’re halfway submerged when you are gathered close to his broad chest and abruptly moved. Like you’re a mere babe, swaddled in the arms of your mother. Your head knocks into his shoulder, body feebly wriggling as you register the sudden lack of ground beneath you.

“It’s alright,” Jing Yuan holds you fast. “I’ve got you.”

His reassurances soothe you still. Jing Yuan ferries you across his bedroom. The sheets are already pulled back, cool and buttery against your skin as he settles you down. You stay there, where he’s left you, writhing against the bedding just to enjoy the feeling, the warmth. The scent of him pervades the entire room. But here, it is inescapable. You shove yourself further up the mount of pillows, pleased to find them just as cool against your skin.

The mattress dips next to you. He slips into his nest like a seal taking to water, yanking up the blankets to your shoulders. Your eyes have shut. The ease with which you let your guard down with him demands careful inspection. But that can wait until tomorrow.

For now, the general pulls you close, drags you to him with an effortless tug. He envelops you shamelessly. Every second hoarded close feels like a nap in the sun.