#leather use cases in Office Furniture

[interiorergonomics]

Office Furniture Leather Grades and Recommendations

The ultimate recommendations for leather used in office furniture crafting emphasizes choosing high-quality leather grades. Select the one which offers durability, comfort, and elegance.

Choose full-grain or top-grain leather to ensure a sophisticated appearance and long-lasting performance.

Actually, incorporating premium leather furniture into your office not only enhances aesthetics but also provides a professional and inviting atmosphere.

Read More for The real leather office furniture manufacturer and supplier base in Dubai;

[sarrsqz]

And I'll be yours until the sun no longer shines

American Horror Story: Murder House

Post-Death Violet Harmon x Dead!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: When stuck thinking about a world you're no longer a part of, Violet's there to remind you of a world that was created just for you.

I gotta step up cause no one writes for her anymore 😔

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Afternoon sun spilled into the room and cascaded a long yellow gleam onto the floorboards. From years of sun damage -- caused by the open curtains that nobody ever fixed, and the angle of the sun at this exact time in the summer seasons -- the wooden floorboards had taken on a bleached look. Something that used to be a staple of the house's beauty now left to rot with the rest of it.

Your eyes followed the angled sun ray, watching it as it got narrower the further it went through the room. The peak of it hit the very bottom of the leather couch you laid on, which was covered in a thick plastic sheet. It was meant to protect the furniture in case of future buyers, but it's been over a decade since anyone (alive, that is) has lived here, so you doubt that it really matters now. It rustled under you whenever you shifted slightly. It reminded you of the paper sheet they use in doctor's offices, the ones that were left tattered after every patient sat on them.

Or maybe it was the squeaky sound it made that reminded you of something. Like how worn-down sneakers belonging to tired teenagers sounded when jogging through a school gym on a Monday morning.

But it didn't really matter. The only thing these comparisons really reminded you of was the fact that you thought too much about trivial things -- and reminisced about a life that you couldn't be a part of anymore.

The only thing that mattered now was the girl whose head was laying in your lap. The girl who had lightly slapped your hand when she realized you weren't paying attention to her speaking. "Are you even listening?" She asked, sitting up -- the plastic moving under you both -- and leaning on her elbow. Her pin straight hair fell over her left shoulder, framing her face that held a scowl at you for ignoring her.

You sat up on your elbows, eyes scanning over her face. She looked the same as she did when she was alive. Acted the same too. It was rare to meet a ghost who was at all similar to how they used to be. But that was Violet for you -- always the black sheep in every situation.

"Sorry." An apology came from your mouth, one of the many in this relationship. But what can you expect from fucked up dead teenagers?

"Jus' thinking about things." Your voice, again. It was difficult for your mind to catch up with your mouth sometimes, something you had grown accustomed to since dying. It never used to happen when you were alive though.

Violet's expression blanks, the scowl making its temporary exit. She glanced over at the sun beams, which were now shifted slightly due to the sun moving. "Your thoughts are more interesting than my cheesy story, huh?" She joked, the familiar sarcastic tone present in her voice. Her fingers began picking at loose strands on the sleeves of her cardigan, her nails chipped with old polish.

Right. Her story. Some cringy thing that happened when she still lived in Boston. She had been talking about it as if it was a fond memory, but you knew her. She just needed something to pass the time. It was futile though -- time doesn't stop for things like you.

You smiled anyway. "No, no. Sorry," another sorry, "keep talking." The words left your mouth, causing Violet to pause for a moment before continuing her story. Her storytelling was interesting enough. With her randomly thrown in curses and rants about people or things that annoyed her.

But what mainly caught your eye this time was the way the sun hit her face. That afternoon glow hitting the right side of her perfectly. Her brown eyes turned hazel, gold and green making appearances. Her hair looked more blond than ever. Memories of seeing her leave for school -- decades ago at this point -- back when she was still alive and had just moved here. Seeing her in the front lawn with her dad or with their old dog. Leaning on the doorframe of her bedroom, seeing her smile at you from across the room.

Making up new events as well. Seeing her at the beach, sand sticking to your skin and salt invading your nose. Walking through a music store, listening to her ramble about Morrissey and flipping through overpriced albums. Making fun of people buying mainstream music, blatantly ignoring the popularity of our own music tastes.

"Why do I even bother talking if you're not going to listen?" A frustrated voice broke through your thoughts. "Y'know, it hurts when you don't pay attention to me. I need you to be present." Her voice was softer when she said that. Vulnerable.

You shake your head slightly, looking away from her. "I was just... imagining shit." Your eyebrows raised slightly, a tight smile on your face as you looked back at her. Looking for forgiveness and for her to continue on with her stories of Boston.

But instead, you're met with concern. She seemed worried. Normally, she'd say something sarcastic, maybe cuss you out a bit, and then continue on like it's nothing. She doesn't have the energy to fight about something like this anyway. She's already not on speaking terms with some of the ghosts here, she doesn't need you pissed off too.

But no. She's worried. Your face dropped, hers narrowed. She sat up fully. Her legs were crossed, bare knees poking out from under her dark dress. "You can talk to me, you know."

You sat up. Your mind was still clouded with thoughts. Your head was a melting pot of memories and made-up fantasies. Your childhood, the high school you were never able to graduate from, the life you and the girl in front of you deserved to be able to live together.

She was back to picking at the strands on her cardigan. Tying random pieces into knots, pulling them apart, starting all over again. Her eyes shifted from her hands and back towards your face.

You opened your mouth, but this time nothing came out. You moved slightly, the plastic squeaked. Neither of you paid any mind to it. You crossed your arms, glancing down at the see-through material that exposed the old black leather of the couch.

"I just keep thinking about it." It. That's what we called the world outside of the house. The world that had forgotten us years ago. The one that wrote us off as tragic cases of teenagers in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Your voice was low. You looked up at her, seeing her face blank again. Unreadable. The sun is almost gone now. It had passed you both and was now situated in the furthest corner of the room.

"Don't be stupid." Her voice cut through the air. It was sharp but held a logical sense to it. She didn't want you to hurt yourself desiring something you can't have. "I wish I could tell you that it's going to happen, but we need to focus on what we have here." Is it obvious that we've had this conversation before?

But still, she was right. She seemed to always be right. Although it hurt knowing we'd be here forever, unable to grow up, unable to leave, we had to remain realistic. Hoping for something that was impossible would only make things worse.

"I mean, unless you found a magic spell that would bring us back to life or some shit." She laughed at her own comment. Even after everything that had happened to her, her humor never strayed.

You smiled, her laughter getting louder when she saw it. She moved closer to you, the sound of the plastic making both of you breakout in fits of laughter, unable to ignore the sound anymore.

She rested her head on your shoulder, your uneven laughs continuing to fill the semi-empty living room you both sat in. You leaned back, watching the sun finally leave the room. Violet leaned in closer, a smile on her pale face. A genuine one at that, no sarcasm in sight.

The lonely reality of being dead will always eat away at you. You'll always miss everything you once had, always resent the circumstances that took them away. You'll always fear forgetting about things that mean so much to you -- fear losing yourself to the insanity brought on by being stuck in a timeless loop of murder.

But you'll also have her by your side. The weirdest girl you've ever met that accepted her own death years before it even occurred. The girl who remained the same in death, and the girl who understands you better than anyone else in the shitty world you two share.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this is kinda ass but it's okay for my first post lol

[ltwilliammowett]

Life on board a 17th century warship

The sailing crew was divided into two watches under the two lieutenants, each working for four hours while the other rested. While off duty, they were expected to stay below decks and out of the way, but could be called to work at any time if all hands were required, such as when anchoring or making a major sail change. When below, they probably tried to sleep as much as they could, since the four-hour schedule is not natural and quickly leads to fatigue. When not sleeping, they probably used much of the time off watch to mend their clothes and shoes, but they might relax with games, music or a popular new pastime, smoking, although this was only allowed in the cookroom.

War Ships 17th Century, by Jefferys, Charles W. 1942 in: The Picture Gallery of Canadian History Volume 1, p.99

Food was also prepared in the cookroom, a brick-lined hearth in front of the mainmast in the hold, and carried up to the gundecks in buckets, where it was doled out into big wooden bowls. Depending on the ship, food could also be prepared in the galley, which was located in the forecastle or midships.

Each man had his own wooden spoon, and some had wooden plates, but most ate from the bowl shared by a mess, a group of six or seven men who ate and lived together. They drank weak beer, "ship's ale," from a shared wooden tankard. The base of the diet was salted meat for protein and dried peas and bread for carbohydrates. Barrels full of bones found in the hold show that the meat was mostly beef, with a little pork and mutton, as well as fish and poultry. Interessting fact was that some of the crew were prepared to supplement this, as fishing equipment and hunting weapons were found in shipwrecks like the Vasa, as well as the bones of roe deer, moose, and grouse. The skeletons of chickens suggest that a few fresh eggs were available.

As in other navies, they did not issue uniforms in that time, the men had to buy or make their own clothes. In some cases cloth was provided as part of their salary, but the typical sailor's clothing was the same as the clothing they arrived in from the farm or town: a linen shirt, a short, skirted woollen doublet (jacket), wool trousers that ended below the knee, woollen socks, and leather shoes. Many had broad-brimmed hats or conical caps. The cloth varied from coarse homespun to imported dyed fabrics, but almost all sailors sewed strips of contrasting cloth or even lace down the outside seams of their trousers in imitation of the clothing worn by the well-to-do. Clothes had to be hard-wearing, since most people could not afford more than one set.

The senior officers lived aft in the cabins of the sterncastle, where they had more space, glass windows, proper furniture, and ate their meals from pewter or earthenware table service. They had finer clothes, but as more than one visitor to Sweden from the continent remarked, it was difficult to tell the nobles from the peasants, since they dressed alike. The officers also had to share their accommodation, sleeping in pairs in narrow double beds, but the cabins were built to resemble the interior of houses ashore. The great cabin, where the king or an admiral would stay, was fitted out like a room in the royal palace, with fine panelling and carved sculptures that emphasised the power of the people who lived there.

The 17th century was a violent period, and both on shore and at sea brutal punishments were prescribed for even minor crimes. Conscripts often came from rough backgrounds, but discipline was essential for the smooth and safe functioning of a ship. In crowded conditions, small disagreements could easily blow up into fights, grumbling could turn to mutiny. Officers had to earn the trust of the men they commanded, but needed the option of punishment for the intractable. The articles of war specified that a person causing a fire was to be cast into the same fire, a person starting a fight was to be stabbed through the hand with a knife, blasphemers and those speaking ill of the king or his officers were to be keelhauled, murderers should be tied to their victims and thrown in the sea. In practice, a captain who had to use these punishments too often risked losing the respect of his men and his fellow captains and could not rule for long.

[achaotichuman]

Hedonism

Welcome back for day three of Tamlin Week, today's prompt I went with both. Prompts- Flower language, and Mates. Though I used them quite loosely in this fiction.

This oneshot is focusing around Tamlin reconciling with his feelings about Lucien and taking action finally to attempt to fix what he has lost. He has never been good with words, and much less any kind of relationship. But for Lucien he will try. For Lucien he has to try.

You can read on Ao3 or below the cut!

Warning- Explicit Mature Content.

The sun was on the edge of the horizon, a few minutes from slipping below the line of the glittering sea when Tamlin landed in Day. The white marble, sandstone and gold gleamed in the dusk light. A smatter of pinks and yellows smeared over the picturesque city. His own golden hair gleamed in the light. The gold in his eyes like spots of sunlight as he looked upon the Palace of gems and carved marble. 

The guards standing as sentries either side of the large gilded doors shared a glance. Neither showing any signs of recognition when they looked upon the disgraced High Lord. The disappointment of his father, and his father before him. It was a sigh of relief to for once not be seen as the Lord of the Spring Lands. 

Tonight he had braided his hair with forget-me-nots, marigolds and bluebells. Spilling down the plain white shirt he wore. A simple beige coat overtop, and black pants. Daggers nowhere to be seen tonight, only a leather satchel slung over his chest. Gripping the leather strap tightly, he lowered his head and looked through his long, blond eyelashes at the guards. Walking slowly up the stairs. 

“Your business here?” The one on the left, a male dressed in armour from head to toe, but with a peek of dark gold hair underneath his helmet. 

“I am here to see the Lord Lucien Van- SpellCleaver.” Tamlin corrected himself quickly. 

The guards both scrutinised him. But ultimately didn’t seem to think he was lying. Lucien had spies and sources scattered all throughout Prythian, it wasn’t an unlikely story that he was one of those. 

One guard called for an escort to take Tamlin into the Palace. Two new guards flanking him as he was led through winding hallways covered in finary. With statues of females and males lounging amongst their own nakedness, and art of swirling colours hanging from the pristine walls. 

Thesan’s Palace was grander, but Day held a hedonistic, lightly charged sense of finary. That Tamlin didn’t feel he belonged in. Lucien certainly did, the male was the definition of hedonistic. 

With scarlet hair that fell in thick, shiny waves over his shoulders, spilling down his back. Gleaming dark skin that glowed in afternoon sunlight. Amber eyes that shone with tame wickedness, even that scar added a hint of cruelty that only added to roughen his sharp appearance. Making him appear like a freshly sharpened blade. 

With a build made to wield weapons with effortless grace it was no wonder he resembled one. Tamlin looked down at the rolled out carpet across the tiled floors. All swirling gold and white. 

He was a smear of mud in an otherwise perfect painting. He shouldn’t have come here tonight. 

Eventually they faced a large dark oak door. Silence rang through the world, and Tamlin’s hand twitched. The servant, with fluttering wings and dark skin, who had been his escort, knocked three times in rapid succession. 

“Enter.” A muffled voice called, and Tamlin’s heart throbbed against his ribcage. He knew that voice so, so well. 

The delicate wrist of the Day Faery opened the golden handle, and the door swung open. Letting Tamlin take in the dappled sunshine breathing through the large open windows of the office. It was simple, simpler than the rest of the grand palace, but just as tasteful. With white lounges and dark wood furniture. And every wall that was not a window was a display case for dozens, if not hundreds of books. 

Lucien didn’t look up from his desk, as he scribbled away at writing some kind of letter. His slender fingers stained with black ink. A smudge under his eye, and on his cheek. His hair was held back by a red satin band. And he wore a long loose red silk robe with swirls of gold, open over his chest. 

“What is it?” Lucien asked, not looking up. 

“You have a visitor, my Lord.” The servant said, bowing low. 

“I do-” Lucien cut himself short as he finally looked up. 

“Everyone leave.” Lucien ordered, standing up to reveal the loose knot at his waist. 

In a second, the guards and servant scattered out, the door clicking shut behind Tamlin. His heart thundering as Lucien stepped away from behind his desk, robe swishing with every movement. His long hair fluttered behind him, strands of wine red hair glowing dark in the dying sunlight. He stared at Tamin, those glowering amber eyes not looking at his face but rather fixated on the flowers in his hair. 

“Tamlin.” Lucien said, as he made his way to a white lounge. Effortlessly draping himself over the blankets tossed lazily across it. A blank expression in his face, but his eyes revealed the true expanse of emotions hiding behind his false indifference, “What brings you from the South to the Solar Courts.”

“Are we really playing this game?” Tamlin asked with a cocked eyebrow, truly his hands began to tremble, so he folded them behind his back. Lucien’s eyes darted to the motion as a cruel smile slipped over his face, he knew, the bastard always knew. 

“Yes we are.” Lucien murmured, “You ensured it the last time I was in Spring. That we were back to these games.”

The last time Tamlin had laid eyes on Lucien. When they had fought so ferociously, both losing themselves to suppressed anger and the trauma they desperately hid from the eyes of others. Lucien had spat venomous words that in hindsight Tamlin knew he hadn’t meant. But in the moment, they had struck true. 

His magic had lost control once again. Falling prey to the insane beast writhing within him. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d done it all the same. Lucien had left with bruises and cuts, the most prominent of them all a blackened eye. 

Tamlin had run for him, but Lucien was gone with tears in his eyes before he could get a word out. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Tamlin whispered softly, "Truly I didn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter though does it?” Lucien hissed, “I know you can’t control your magic Tamlin, it wasn’t about the injury. For fuck’s sake, I broke your arm once on accident during sparring. But fucking Cauldron on earth and Mother in sky, I apologised right after.”

Tamlin kept his mouth shut and his eyes forward. Taking everything he said. 

“You’ve taken two years Tamlin, two fucking years. Two years of me thinking everything we had was truly thrown away, and now you come here thinking you can make it alright with an apology?” Lucien stood, gracefully smooth, that scarlet silk caressing his naked skin underneath. 

He said nothing, just waiting, waiting as Lucien watched him with those cunning, sharp eyes. Staring him down like he was deciding whether to ask him to leave or to punch him in the face. Neither Tamlin would have hated him for. 

Lucien waited for his response too, and when it was clear Tamlin wasn’t saying anything. He stalked forward. Head high and eyes locked in on green. The sun’s rays disappearing behind the horizon. 

Tamlin’s eyes trailed up and down Lucien, “Is it thrown away?”

For once during this entire conversation, Lucien looked at a loss for words. As if he had practised this encounter a hundred times over in the mirror, like Tamlin wasn’t following the script he had out, “What?”

“Is it thrown away? Is everything we used to be just,” Tamlin made a flitting gesture, “Gone.”

Silence echoed like thunder through the room. The room began to darken, as the sun was almost fully set. The pinks it left behind slowly dimming and giving way to deep purple and endless midnight blue. 

“I don’t know.” Lucien whispered.

Tamlin didn’t know either, he just knew he had to make this right. One way or another. Find someway to fix this. There was hope, Lucien hadn’t thrown him out yet, he was standing right in front of him. Telling him off as he had done for years. 

In those burning amber eyes, there was want. Lucien had waited for this day, so there must be some part of him that wanted it. 

And Tamlin needed to take advantage of the opportunity he had. To rekindle what they had lost, what in part had been taken from them, and in part he had neglected. 

But there were no words that he had that could fix this. No magic he possessed that could rebuild their relationship right this second. 

So Tamlin instead said something he knew Lucien would want to hear anyway, “The bar down in Summer is closing.”

Lucien blinked at him, surprised once more, Tamlin put the cherry on top, “It’s their last night open, they have a deal going. Three shots for the price of one.”

That bar was owned by two Lords who had moved to working in Tarquin’s Court. Tamlin had known them as long as he had been of drinking age. And knew they had a large supply of cheap alcohol that needed getting rid of quickly.

There was a heartbeat of silence, followed by another. 

Lucien turned on his heel and headed for a door that when it swung open, revealed his sleeping quarters. He slammed the door shut and Tamlin flinched, blinking at the door.

A grin curled on his lips as Tamlin counted in his head. 

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

The door swung open again and Lucien was fully dressed. Simple and mostly plain. A billowing white shirt with black pants. A golden drop hung from one ear, and a simple necklace with a blood red ruby dangled around his throat. 

“Off we go.” Lucien said, already heading for the door. 

And Tamlin was quick to follow. 

Disappearing from Day, they left the rich smells and salaciously, tasteful erotic air behind. Exchanging it for one of loud ruckus, the reek of cheap alcohol, and smoke thick air. 

Tamlin didn’t bat an eye as he walked from the old, chipped away street just on the outskirts of the Summer Court into the small half-broken door of the bar sitting like a hole in the line of old, old buildings. But from the corner of his eye, he watched Lucien’s back suddenly straighten, his face souring as his nose scrunched and his eyes narrowed. 

This, this felt more like him. Dirty, depraved and awful. A stain on the floor. It wasn’t Lucien though. May have been what he felt like years ago, but now as he had been reunited with his mother, with his brothers. And brought to a place that he clicked like the last piece of a puzzle, it wasn’t him any longer. 

It didn’t stop him though, from walking beside Tamlin into the crowded, roaring bar. 

The Lords of this place had neglected it for a while, leaving it all to be run by the two managers in charge. Once they made their way up the imperial ladder, they were finally closing it down. In all honesty the place was overrun by criminals, and should have been shut down ages ago. 

But the drunk violence, the selfish greed all around, the haze of drugs outlawed by the Court they were in and the unrestricted amount of drinks that poured from the bar, was something Tamlin needed to be able to forget. He knew it was disgusting. He knew he was partially hated by it. But he was a selfish man and that much he could admit. 

Lucien wasn’t though, which was why he seemed so out of place. 

But one thing was for sure. In the depraved darkness of this place, there was only a hunger for something to forget the days before and the days to come. To give in to the young of the night and let the swirling midnight haze sweep through the mind. As such, the formal resentment between High and Lesser Fae slipped away in this place. Turning a mix of cliques. Either those looking for a good fight to work out the tension of their work day, or those looking for a good fuck to work out their unmet need for pleasure. 

So Tamlin and Lucien elbowed their way through both High and Lesser Fae. Until they found two thankfully empty seats right at the bar counter. 

Both quickly stole away a place, and let their heavy selves rest against the countertop. The bartender looked up to see them. A lesser faery named Laurel, with white wings that were tinted pink at the edges. She had pale pink skin and an arrangement of flowers falling from her white hair. Despite the loveliness of her appearance. Laurel was also tall, taller than Tamlin, and stronger than him too. He knew that only because of the time he had drunkenly pushed a male down against the bartop and sucked him off on the spot. That night Laurel had to pick him and the male up and throw them outside. 

She saw them and waved with a big grin on her face. In a second she had three shots poured out and all were in front of them in a second. 

“Tam, long time no see.” She yelled over the crowd. 

“Good to see you too, Laurel!” He told her back, he then clasped Lucien’s shoulder and asked, “You remember Lu, right?”

“Yeah, course I remember Lucy.” She smiled at Lucien who waved back. 

“Yell out when you want more drinks, boys, there's plenty more that needs to go.” She said, then her eyes went to two males getting too rough at a table, “I gotta go sort that out, safe drinking!”

Tamlin laughed as he watched her brace a hand on the counter and swing herself over. Running to separate the two. 

As Tamlin turned around, he saw Lucien pick up the small glass, the clear liquor staring up at him. He knocked it back and winced as he did. But quickly took up the next. Tamlin grabbed his own before Lucien got too carried away. 

They said nothing as they waited for Laurel to be done dealing with the bastards fighting. She hopped back over the counter and wordlessly poured them more, before getting back to her own job, the next three were gone in a moment and this time Tamlin took two shots and Lucien one. 

Slowly, the bar began to quiet down. Turning to a buzz around them as the alcohol began to take effect. Laurel had scared the shit out of the noisiest of the lot, so everyone began to return to their own drinking and hiding in the corners away from her cunning eyes for a quick handjob. 

“So…” Tamlin started, he knew they needed to talk, but he didn’t know how to approach it. 

“Let’s play a drinking game.” Lucien stated, Tamlin blinked. 

Slowly, the blond breathed out, “Okay, what’s the game?”

Lucien lifted his empty shot glass to grab Laurel’s eye, and waited until she poured another three before disappearing again. 

“We talk about this.” He said, “And anytime one of us lies, sugarcoats it, or otherwise tries to hide what we think. You have to take a shot.”

This was dangerous. This was so, so dangerous. 

But if they didn’t do something, Tamlin was going to lose him forever anyway, so. 

Fuck it. 

“Okay.”

“Good, I’ll go first. I hate that I ever met you.”

Tamlin gritted his teeth, as his eyes gleamed. But it wasn’t hatred that curled in his gut, rather a fire that began to stoke itself up and up. 

So that’s how they were to play. 

Fine. 

“I hate that I ever met you.”

A growl loosened from behind the Day Heir’s teeth, “I hate that I learned to care for you at all.”

“I hate that I loved you enough to take you in.”

Lucien gripped the counter, “I hate that I loved you enough to defend you in front of Amarantha.”

“I hate you for going even though I told you time and time again it was a bad idea. That wouldn’t keep your mouth shut.” Tamlin carved a line in the counter with his claw, leaning back on the stool. 

“I hate you for coming after me right before I could finally let you go.” Lucien said, staring into the old chipping wood. 

“I hate that I didn’t force you to the continent when Amarantha struck.” Tamlin whispered. 

Lucien swallowed, “I would never have gone. And if you forced me it would have made me hate loving you more.”

“We are a tragedy, and it’s all my fault.” Tamlin breathed out. 

“No, it’s not.” The redhead told him, “It’s not all your fault.”

“Every scar you have is because of me, I mutilated you.” Tamlin told him. 

“No.” As soon as the word slipped from his mouth, Lucien reached over and took a shot. Throwing his head back, the red of his hair all slipped down his back. Throat bobbing as he swallowed. He slammed the glass back onto the counter and wiped his mouth aggressively, “Every scar I have is because of you. And it’s because of how much I fucking love you.”

“I hate you because I can’t fucking hate you!” Tamlin yelled, grinding his teeth together and squeezing his eyes shut so tightly they pulsed with pain.

“Well I hate you because no matter what, I can’t forget who you were to me. You are everything in me. You’re twisted around me, I can’t even look at a fucking tree without thinking of you!” Lucien stood up to look at him. 

“I hate there was nothing I could do.” A tear spilled down over Tamlin’s face, “I hate that no matter what, no matter who tells the story, there were so many times where there was nothing else I could do. I already begged Amarantha to spare you, I already tried to get you away from your brothers. I couldn’t stop what she did to your eye.”

Lucien whispered, “I hate that I couldn’t make it all stop. I hate that I couldn’t help you.”

“I hate that I made it so hard for you.” Tamlin murmured back, “I hate that in the end you even stopped yelling at me. You used to do that everyday.”

For once, a smile slipped over Lucien’s face. One pure and real and genuine. 

“We haven’t lost it all.” Lucien said, sitting back down, “We aren’t all gone.”

“What else can we do?” Tamlin asked. 

Lucien didn’t respond as he took another shot. Tamlin followed suit. As he did his head spun and the light in his eyes swam. 

Then he felt a pair of hot hands on his shoulders, making him turn to face Lucien. The male seemed closer than before. As if he had moved his chair across to be nearer. 

“I remember your hair.” Lucien whispered into the space between them, “I remember how much you liked me brushing it, or braiding it, or weaving flowers into it.”

He was silent then, as his index finger lifted to curl a fallen lock of blond strands around it. 

“I remember your skin.” Tamlin told him, “I remember each and every mark and freckle. And how you shiver when I run my finger down your neck like this.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the longing for his friend back, or even the repressed sexual need. Perhaps all three. Either way, Tamlin boldly moved his hand, trailing his fingers down from Lucien’s jaw, over the sensitive flesh of his dark throat, as expected, as he touched, Lucien shuddered. His soft, supple skin prickling underneath his fingertips. 

Tamlin stopped at the edge of his collar. Then let his hand fall away, before he rasped, “I remember that night right here, when I took you on the counter and we got thrown out because of it.”

Lucien’s breath was sucked from him, as his pretty face, all flushed pink from alcohol. Darkening in colour as he too remembered that night. 

Because Lucien was the male Tamlin sucked off that night. Too many drinks in, laughing and grabbing at each other. Getting hot and riled up. Lucien’s hot hands had slid over his shirt, eventually finding underneath the fabric. Tamlin’s mouth pressed into his neck, and large hands went up and down his thighs. Both had come to some kind of agreement not long before, that they explore the parts of them they had never been able to before. The parts that made them stare a little too long at the training sentries, the parts they had been told time and time again to hide in shame. 

Then, they had gone further in their explorations than ever before. Lucien’s hands found his chest and started groping him while whispering every dirty thought that went through his pretty head. And Tamlin lost his mind. 

In a haze of what must have been stupidity, drunkenness and pure lust. He pushed Lucien back onto the bartop, Lucien’s nimble fingers had unlaced his trousers in a second to spare them from being ripped by Tamlin’s claws. 

Tamlin’s body, running entirely on lust, had moved quicker than his thoughts. His head had gone down, and before he could even process his own actions, silky skin pierced his lips and flooded his mouth. Filling his throat as his eyes had rolled back. Lucien’s head had thrown back, moaning as he grabbed Tamlin’s hair and fucked up into his mouth. 

After being thrown out, they hadn’t talked of that day again, but Tamlin had never forgotten it. And from the wide-eyed look on Lucien’s face, he hadn’t forgotten it either. 

“Tamlin.” Lucien released his breath so carefully slow. Holding onto his control as much as he could. 

“Yes?” Tamlin ducked his head, pressing his lips to the same spot he had all those decades ago. 

“Mm, fuck.” Lucien bit his lip as his head tipped to the side. 

This was so dangerous. They shouldn’t be doing this. After everything that had gone down they shouldn’t be doing this. 

It just made Tamlin want it more.

He pressed a gentle kiss to Lucien’s skin. Before his tongue darted out and drew a line up to his jaw, before he bit into his skin. A sudden noise left Lucien’s throat, and those hot fucking hands moved. Lucien pulled Tamlin’s shirt out of his pants and immediately went under. Sliding up his skin and finding his nipples. Rolling the stiff buds between his fingers, pinching roughly. Tamlin groaned into his neck and bit down on the fleshy part of his neck and shoulder, harder than he meant too. Causing Lucien to squeeze his eyes shut as he suddenly jolted and moaned. 

One of his hands started groping Tamlin, while the other tugged his hard nipple. Leaning close to Tamlin’s ear, he whispered, “I remember how you moaned like a bitch when I did this.”

Suddenly, Lucien bit the tip of Tamlin’s very, very sensitive ear, and the blond Faery cried out. Trying to muffle himself on Lucien's shoulder. His hands went to Lucien’s thick thighs and started squeezing the hard muscles there. As he mouthed at his neck. 

Lucien licked up and down along the point of his ear, teasing the skin with his talented tongue. All the while his fucking fingers played with his nipples, hands occasionally swapping sides, one to grope, one to toy with the buds. 

“I hate how fucking hot you are.” Lucien breathed out. 

“That’s a lie.” Tamlin pointed out with a grin, “Take a shot.”

Lucien leaned back a little, regarding Tamlin with a fox’s smile, “Wicked.”

“Not as much as you.” Tamlin replied. 

Lucien licked his lips, as he slid his hands out. Making Tamlin shiver at the loss of contact. Moving to quickly lean over the counter, he snatched the bottle of alcohol from where Laurel had briefly left it to deal with another rowdy crowd. Lucien poured himself a shot. Then slowly brought it to his lips. Watching Tamlin over the rim as he took the liquor in his mouth, and swallowed. His pretty throat bobbing up and down as the contents of his glass were drained away. 

The fox kept his eye contact as he put the glass down, the second his fingers were away from it. Tamlin was on him. 

Pushing off his own seat, he practically climbed into Lucien’s lap in his desperation to get those hot lips on his own. Grabbing his face, their mouths met. Both moaned into each other. Lucien grabbed the back of Tamlin’s head with one hand, then slipped his other back up his shirt. At the same time he started pinching and groping again, he pulled the High lord’s hair hard. 

Tamlin whimpered into Lucien’s mouth, as he slipped Lucien his tongue. Causing the male to groan and pull his hair harder, the flowers falling out as his braid came undone. 

His hair had grown wildly longer since they had last been together. As it untangled it fell down to his thighs. Lucien smiled against him as he slipped his hand underneath all that hair and held onto the base of Tamlin’s neck. 

Tamlin grabbed a fistful of pretty red hair, desperately needing something to hold onto, to anchor himself. Biting down on Lucien’s bottom lip, then sucking the flesh. 

As his skin grew hotter and hotter he felt something hard pressing against his own growing bulge. Tamlin moaned as he started grinding his covered cock against Lucien’s. Making the younger hiss as he held Tanlin tighter, pushing them harder together.

They pulled back enough that both could catch a breath, Tamlin breathed out, half-dazed and barely able to form a coherent thought except for one, “Fuck me.”

“Fuck yes.” Lucien said quickly. 

“Get. Out.” Tamlin and Lucien were quickly torn from their lust induced trance as they snapped their gaze around to see Laurel glaring so horribly at them. 

Tamlin was half about to ignore her, when Lucien grabbed the back of his thighs, and lifted him off the chair as he stood. Tamlin quickly wrapped his arms around the back of his neck, and Lucien shouted an apology as they both stumbled out to the entrance. 

Lucien was strong, strong enough to give Tamlin a good fight, and it seemed he had only gotten stronger. Of course, Tamlin also knew he was a lot lighter, having been living off of scraps every couple of days for two years. 

Getting out into the darkness, the warmth of Summer was sticky all around them, despite the sun having gone down at least an hour ago. 

Tamlin grabbed Lucien’s hair, kissing him sloppily as they both grinded and panted against each other, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Lucien forced his mouth away and stared up with glazed eyes. For a moment, their spinning worlds came to a sudden stop as they looked into each other and for the first time in a lot longer than just two years, they truly saw into the other. Saw them for who they were and every broken piece underneath. 

Tamlin cupped Lucien’s face with both his hands, at the same time Lucien squeezed his thighs harder. 

In that second, in that moment of stillness, Tamlin realised one thing. 

They had seen each other at their absolute worst. Broken, destroyed, taken apart and forced to keep going. They had scraped through life by each other’s side for so long. The bond they had ran deeper than just the friendship they showed. It was a deep understanding of what the other had been through, something that no one else in their life understood. Something they all never would. 

But they knew. In their small world, Tamlin and Lucien knew. Better than anyone else ever could. 

“I’m sorry.” Tamlin whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know.” Lucien whispered back, before pressing such a sweet and gentle kiss to his lips. 

In a second, they were in Summer, and the next rich smells and charged air were filling Tamlin’s lungs once more as they winnowed to Day. 

Their lips crashed together once more. And Tamlin moaned as Lucien gently set him down on the floor again. Immediately their hands started roaming, desperate to get underneath each other’s layers. 

As Tamlin tried to pull Lucien’s shirt off, considering simply ripping it. Lucien grabbed both his wrists and held them together as he dragged him back into his bedroom. 

Tamlin barely got time to look around. Just noticing the blinds were thrown open, the doors to a balcony open, allowing in the soft night breeze. The bed was covered in a myriad of soft pillows, red and gold silks. Then Lucien was shoving him back onto the bed. Tamlin pulled his wrists free, but Lucien crawled up after him, as Tamlin pulled himself back, until he was amongst the pillows. 

Lucien pushed himself on top of Tamlin. Both thighs bracketed around his own. The Heir of Day, then grabbed both Tamlin’s wrists and pinned them above his head. Tamlin squirmed at the restraint but Lucien whispered, “Be a good boy and stay still.”

“Fuck, Lucien-”

“Wanna get fucked tonight?” He asked with a cruel tint to his voice, “Stay still.”

Tamlin huffed, blowing out his cheeks, but obeying and keeping his hands above his head. Lucien smiled, looking down at Tamlin like he was proud, “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” Tamlin said, whole body turning red as arousal shot through his body like poison. 

Lucien’s hands left Tamlin’s, and the area was left feeling cold, which Tamlin fought to not whine over. Before his attention was quickly captured by something else. 

Lucien’s hands went to his belt, quickly undoing it and pulling out the leather. Then he leaned back over Tamlin and grabbed his wrists once more. In a few seconds, he skillfully locked Tamlin’s wrists together. Tamlin couldn’t help the whine that left his throat when he felt the leather tighten on his skin. 

“Good boy.” Lucien whispered again, sitting back as he looked down at Tamlin. Restrained, flushed and panting. 

“Are you just going to sit there all night?” Tamlin taunted, “Or are you going to do  something?”

Lucien laughed, “Oh really? You want me to do something Tam?”

Frustration welled in Tamlin’s chest and at the same time his heart leapt at the familiarity in the nickname, “Yes, god, please.”

A grin curled on Lucien’s face as he then snapped his fingers, and in a second the rumpled dishevelled clothes plastered to Tamlin’s skin were reduced to ash from flames. It didn’t hurt in the slightest, only a light tingle of sudden warmth danced across his body. 

Now completely open and exposed to the midnight chill. Tamlin’s skin prickled, as his nipples began to ache from lack of attention, and at the same time blood rushed down and his cock began to throb in time with his heartbeat. Even still, he tried to not move as Lucien observed him. 

Amber eyes dark in the minimal light. Lucien slid his tongue over his lips before he moved one hand up. His fingers circling Tamlin’s left nipple, making Tamlin squeeze his eyes shut, and bite down on his tongue. 

“So pretty,” Lucien breathed, as those damning fingers pinched the bud. Rolling it gently. 

Tamlin couldn’t stop as his back arched. Eyes rolling back at receiving the attention he so desperately craved, he moaned as his mouth fell open. 

“And responsive.” Lucien noted, watching like a predator. 

“Fucking… Mother dammit.” Tamlin managed to say, even as he was losing himself to each and every touch. 

All of a sudden, Lucien took away his hand and it took Tamlin biting his inner cheek hard enough he nearly drew blood to not whine. 

“Alright, I’ve had my fun, I’ll fuck you now.” Lucien announced as he reached over to a nearby nightstand. 

“Finally.” Tamlin said, head pushing back into the pillow behind him. 

Lucien opened the first drawer, and reached in, pulling out a clear glass cork top bottle of thick oil. He moved and sat back on his heels as he easily opened the bottle. 

“Spread your legs,” He ordered as he poured out the thick liquid onto his fingers. 

Tamlin was quick to obey this time. Watching with poorly contained excitement as Lucien put the bottle back on the nightstand and slipped his fingers between his open thighs. Pressing one digit against his hole, Tamlin sucked in a harsh breath that followed Lucien murmuring, “Good boy, you’re doing so well.”

Tamlin cursed under his breath again, body beginning to throb as fire climbed higher and higher in his core. Lucien pushed his finger in further, gently exploring, as Tamlin wrapped his legs around his waist. Needing to hold onto him in some way. 

Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Lucien grabbed one of his thighs and forcefully spread his legs open, keeping them wide set as he smoothly thrusted his finger in and out. 

“You can take a little more.” Lucien whispered into the darkness between them. The words were nearly lost to Tamlin, his mind altered by pleasure and alcohol. 

Lucien pressed another finger inside, working it in slowly, until he was thrusting his two fingers in and out. Followed by three, working quicker and quicker as his own desperation built. 

Tamlin was a moaning mess below him, gasping for breath, and moving his hips as Lucien spread his fingers, the searing stretch making his hips jut up and his back arch. 

“Fuck, Lucien.” Tamlin moaned. 

“So fucking tight.” Lucien mumbled, seemingly lost in a daze, Tamlin didn’t know whether he was talking to him or to himself. 

Either way, Tamlin felt himself go redder as that fire built. Then Lucien twisted and curled his fingers and brushed some spot inside him that made his toes curl as he cried out. Pulling at his restraints, he bucked back against Lucien’s fingers, desperate for him to hit that spot again. 

Leaning down over him, Lucien pressed his lips to Tamlin’s. The blond males/’s eyes went wide, his tension causing Lucien to quickly back track, but before he could get too far away. Tamlin wrapped his arms around his neck and crashed their lips together again. Laughing into his mouth, Lucien snaked the hand not fingering Tamlin open, around to the back of his neck. Holding onto him tightly. 

Eventually Tamlin got impatient. As they pulled away to gasp for breath, a string of saliva connecting their lips, he said, “Hurry up.”

Lucien, dazed, flushed and panting, just nodded. Falling to the same need crashing over them. Pleasure pulsed in hot waves through both their bodies, rolling through their cores as Lucien finally dragged his trousers over his hips. Grabbing both of Tamlin’s knees he pushed them up until he was able to push the tip of his hard, weeping cock to the High lord’s slickened entrance. 

The red head crashed over Tamlin again, kissing him desperately as he sank in. Wrapped in each other, limbs like knots. Kissing, sucking and moaning. Tamlin arched up, and Lucien wrapped his arms around his back, pressing them together. Sliding in until he bottomed out. They remained still for a moment, catching their breath as Tamlin adjusted to the feel. 

His chest rising and falling rapidly, Tamlin felt the strands of Lucien’s scarlet hair tickle his throat as he looked up. Opening his green eyes, Tamlin looked up to see Lucien not looking down at him but rather at the open window. 

“What are you-” Tamlin turned his head, and his breath hitched as his eyes went wide. 

The balstrode, the doors, climbing into the room like roots stretching out, where dozens of vines of bleeding hearts, flowering pink. Tamlin looked back up at Lucien who had turned to stare at him. 

Something wet like warm rain fell down the side of his eye and soaked the sheets below. Lucien whispered something that may have been his name but Tamlin couldn’t hear it properly to know. He just knew that the red head leaned down and pressed their lips together. This kiss wasn’t frantic or heady. Steady and chaste. Though setting his body as fire just as much, if not more. 

No words were spoken, Tamlin was glad for it, if he did speak he might break from the thick emotion surrounding them. Clouding his thoughts till they were a jumbled mess of memories and guilt. 

He wanted to just.. Float away from his body forever. 

Lucien seemed to think something similar, he didn’t even try to open his mouth to talk. But he did press another kiss to his lips. Then to his cheek, then down his neck. 

He pulled out just to the tip, then sank back in again. And all at once Tamlin was lost to bliss. 

The sun woke him up, warm and rich like golden syrup. It spread over his skin, casting him in the glow. Tamlin blinked against the rays. Shifting slightly as he tucked his foot back under the covers, freezing from being out. He sighed in content into the mass of chest his face was buried in. His arms around Lucien’s waist, and his around Tamlin’s back. 

Head rolling back, Tamlin started to untangle their legs carefully to stretch out the sore muscles. In the jostling somewhere, Lucien awoke. Tamlin watched as the male slowly came back to consciousness, amber eyes dimmed from sleep but growing brighter as the sun came up. The gold turning to something like liquid sunlight. Tamlin half smiled at the sight, for a moment basking in the glory of waking up like this. No matter how dirty the sheets were and how messy their skin was. This didn’t compare to anything. 

“Morning.” Tamlin rasped, his throat a little sore. All at once a headache popped in his skull and he groaned. It wasn’t too bad, but enough that he wanted a tonic for it. 

“Morning.” Lucien repeated. Pulling himself away from Tamlin, who nearly whined at the loss. 

Sitting up on the bed, propping himself against the headboard, Lucien looked down at Tamlin, “We going to talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Tamlin replied, half-dismissively. 

Lucien just raised an eyebrow and Tamlin folded. 

“I don’t want to lose you.” The golden male admitted, “it’s been torment not having you there at all.”

“You never lost me, Tam.” Lucien told him, “Never.”

“I fucked us up though.” He said. 

Luien shrugged, “A lot of what happened was circumstance and… other’s actions. But yeah, you did fuck a lot up.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Tamlin asked, “What do I need to do to get you back?”

Lucien smiled at the sheets over his lap, “Look at us Tam, you have me back.”

“I don’t deserve it though.”

“We both don’t deserve a lot. Besides,” Lucien looked over to the High lord, “You’ve more than paid the price. What other rock bottom could I ask you to hit?”

Shuffling up, Tamlin leaned against the headboard. Staring at the opposite wall. 

“There’s a lot of shit both of us need to deal with, Tam. We don’t have to get it all done in one morning.” Lucien reminded him. 

“I wish we could. I wish I could.” He whispered. 

Lucien reached out, his fingers brushing over Tamlin’s knuckles, before tangling their fingers together, “But we can’t, so we'll take it all one step at a time.”

Tamlin closed his eyes as he smiled, “One step at a time.”

Lucien hummed and rested his head on Tamlin’s shoulder. 

In that sacred, holy moment, something heavy and hateful just seemed to… disappear. Like all it took to get rid of it was the words they exchanged. 

Tamlin knew it was deeper than that. That last night they had reverted back to who they were before all this, just for a moment. He knew more than anyone they couldn’t live off that high forever. He had tried that with Feyre, and now look where it got him. 

His free hand moved to gently thread through waves of crimson. 

He’d take advantage of this, they’d both been living off of the high of pleasure for far too long. Now they would build something stronger than ever before, something that would withstand the test of time, magical bonds, evil Queen and Kings. 

They’d make something built off of love. Not from hedonistic highs.

“Bleeding hearts right?” Lucien murmured. 

“Hm?” Tamlin questioned, then Lucien pointed him once more in the direction of those flowering plants. 

Tamlin groaned and flopped down, causing Lucien to fall atop him. They both laughed suddenly. Lucien giggled, burying his face into Tamlin’s shoulder. 

Tamlin threw an arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Lucien’s face. 

“What do they mean again?” Lucien mockingly questioned, “Wasn’t it… passionate love, and romance?”

Tamlin rolled his eyes, but moved them so Lucien’s head was laying on his bicep. And Tamlin’s fingers threaded through his hair once more, “Yes, and it can mean unrequited love and a broken heart.”

Lucien’s teasing smirk faded away into something like awe, his eyes beginning to line with tears. Tamlin smiled softly, his thumb reaching out to brush them away from his eyes. 

His fingers shinny with the drops, Tamlin held his hand between them, and whispered, “Then there’s camellias for love, adoration, longing, devotion and care.”

As he whispered the words, a pretty, perfect, pink camellia flower grew from the palm of his hand. Lucien’s eyes went wide with wonder, once again filling with tears that dripped down his face and onto the petals of the new bloom. 

Tamlin leaned over and brushed a kiss to his forehead, “I will try, I promise.”

“I love you.” Lucien whispered. 

“I love you.” Tamlin whispered back. As Lucien wrapped his hands around Tamlin’s holding the camellia and pressed their mouth together. 

Like young blooms in spring, unfurling the cold, misty mornings. Something rich and golden. Filled with immeasurable hedonistic pleasure, filled them both to the brim, spilling over like the wine of a glass. It ran over them like roots and vines held desperately to what they clung too. Like new plants finding their way into life. 

A perfect melding of hearts intertwined. Heavy, rich and luscious, with young, airy and abloom. 

Something so opposite, yet sliding together so easily. 

The mating bond did not ‘snap’ as the many stories went. It bloomed. 

@tamlinweek

[chickensarentcheap]

The bookstore and its three legged, one eyed book store cat

@tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @watermeezer

Just a little flash back :)

The inside of the bookstore is perfectly Esme in every possible way. The aisles spaced the exact distances apart and the shelves neatly and methodically arranged and organized; chalkboards attached to chains dangling from the ceiling advertise the different genres. The wooden floors a light almond; sanded and polished in order to bring out all the stains and knots and making the additions of colour throughout ‘pop’ just how she likes. Arm chairs sit at the end of each book case; clad in different shades of leather and accompanied by an ottoman and brightly woven afghans neatly folded over one arm. A larger sitting area available; matching coffee and end tables atop a braided area rug; joining a rich purple couch, two bright teal chairs and a vivid yellow love seat. A storage closet, office, and a kitchen located at the very back; the latter used for both employee breaks and for preparing muffins, scones, brownies and other sweet treats after the ones made at home -and brought in for opening- quickly run out.

Her pride and joy however, is the children’s section. Closed off from the rest of the store with plexiglass that enables parents to still keep an eye on their kids; books stored on waist high shelves topped with various toys and developmental aides and take home packages of crayons, bubbles, and play-doh. Beanbag chairs and oversized cushions and pillows scattered throughout; taking the place of traditional furniture and giving a more relaxed, fun vibe to the space. An entire section called ‘Tanner’s Tales’ where the ten year old has copies of not only book reviews he’s penned, but copies of some of the stories he’d created; garnering him quite the fan base and bags of mail that come home at the end of every week.

Addie stands in front of the aquarium at the room's far end. Mesmerized by the various breeds of fish that swim throughout and accompanied by Clementine; the bookshop cat missing an eye and a leg who has become a local favourite during the last two years. Esme heard the then kitten’s cries from inside the dumpster out back and called Tyler to come and perform the rescue; the animal had likely been dumped on the street sometime before and attacked by an animal -resulting in its missing appendage- and then finding its way into or being tossed in the dumpster. A trip to the vet and a thousand dollars later to remove a badly infected eye, the aptly named orange kitten took up residence in the store and now lives like a queen. And currently enjoys her time in Addie’s arms; being cradled and talked to like a baby.

[norabrice1701]

Coincidence - Ch. 5, Pt. II

Dr. Alan Grant x Predoctoral Student Fem!Reader

Series Main List

Ch. 5 Warnings: Explicit 18+ NSFW smut (including protected sexual intercourse); older man/younger woman relationship (no underage); explicit language; dinosaur PTSD; pining and inappropriate crush; Alan Grant’s canon upper-body strength

It doesn’t take long to exit the car and duck under the small awning on the backside of the house. The door opens and warm light floods the space to reveal a functional, tidy kitchen. At quick glance, you can’t tell if its neat state is because he seldom uses it or he’s just clean with his habits - but having seen his office, you suspect the former. He toes out of his shoes and drops his briefcase beside them before padding down the small hallway, turning on more lights as he goes. You follow suit with your wet shoes and set your purse down before following him. 

The house glows with golden light that bounces off warm wood paneling and shelves, leather couches and plaid armchairs. Piles of books rest here and there, intermixed with other curios of exploration - a globe on a spindle, binoculars and a leather case, magnifying glasses and various fossil specimens. It’s obviously a bachelor’s home, but it’s far from slovenly - more just… comfortably lived in. The thought brings a warm smile to your face as you silently follow him past the main living room and into a large, adjacent room. 

A tall and wide bookshelf dominates this room, lined with more books, spotted with artwork, and… are those vinyl records? You can’t help but step closer, squinting to better examine the narrow spines, and your smile widens. You’re not sure if you would have considered him to be a music fan, but there’s quite a surprising collection here. Glass clinks across the room, and you glance over your shoulder to see him standing at a bar cabinet opposite the worn, plaid couch and leather armchair. 

Brown liquid sloshes against a glass as he pours and meets your gaze. “What’s your poison?” 

“How about… whiskey?” It’s not your favorite, but it’s popular at the dig sites and you’ve acquired a taste for it. 

A smirk of approval flashes across his face before he tips the already open bottle over a second highball, and more liquid pours out. With both glasses in hand, he skirts around the couch to hand you one. 

With another heavy sigh, he holds his glass out. “Well, I guess… here’s to your next adventure.” 

“Thanks.” You sound sadder than you would like as your glass meets his with a gentle clink. The whiskey is surprisingly smooth as it slides down your throat, warming you from within. He motions towards the armchair before he drops to sit on the couch, taking another long pull of his drink. 

The chair’s springs feel a little worn, and you think it matches the style of the leather sofa in the living room - and the sudden thought that he bought two living room furniture sets and mixed them together makes you smirk against the rim of your glass. Swallowing another mouthful of whiskey, you glance back at the bookshelf. “I wouldn’t have guessed that you were a big music fan.” 

His gaze follows yours to the bookshelf, huffing an amused sigh. “I don’t think I am, really. I inherited most of that collection from the couple that used to live here.” He taps a finger against his glass. “They were an elderly couple, downsizing… and they asked if I had any interest in it. Truthfully, I’ve barely listened to any of it, but it was less furniture to have to buy.” 

You nod in consideration. “I suppose that does make sense.” Your gaze continues to sweep the room, and it looks like his office away from campus - or more like a study, perhaps. A desk rests behind the couch, flanking the bar cabinet, and the plaid couch looks comfortably broken-in as if it’s hosted him for many long nights of intellectual pursuits. Another silence falls, and maybe it should be awkward, but somehow… it’s not. Somehow, it’s enough just to sit with him now. 

“Thank you.” He says at length, drawing your attention to his small, appreciative smile. “For what you did back there and not… not making a big deal about it. Or… asking any questions.” 

“Of course.” You easily reply. “You… you didn’t make a big deal about it, either. Or ask any questions that day… of the storm.” 

If possible, he looks even more world-weary as he takes another sip of whiskey. “I just didn’t want to see you get hurt. With the amount of damage done to the main tent canvas during that storm, you would have been hurt had you stayed, and that would have been on me.” 

“No, it wouldn’t,” you counter genty. “I signed all the legal waivers to be there. If I hurt myself because of a fucking panic attack, then that would have been no one’s fault but mine for not… well, for not admitting that I was a safety hazard to the excavation.” 

“You’re not a safety hazard.” He shakes his head dismissively. “Not anymore than I am because I…” His words trail off with a sigh before bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, I don’t know what I am…”

You wet your top lip before taking another sip of the heady liquor. “Well, who says that you have to be anything more than just yourself?” 

He goes still against the couch for a long moment before raising his head. His gaze finds yours as his brow furrows in deep contemplation. You can’t tell what he’s thinking behind those mesmerizing, slate-blue eyes of his, but you don't dare shy away from his gaze. In fact, you want to commit everything about it to memory as your heart starts racing. 

His eyes narrow with a familiar sharp, shrewd edge. “You know… out of all your peers, you’re the only one who hasn’t once asked me about it.” He tilts his head in further interest. “I know it’s not for your lack of curiosity - you’re far too bright for that - so, that must mean it was a deliberate choice on your part….” The corner of his mouth lifts with a knowing edge. “You’ve chosen not to ask me about the articles, the rumors, or about the island, about… any of it.”

Your mouth goes dry and you resist the sudden urge to fidget against the chair. “Because it’s none of my business. It never has been.” Your fingers tighten against the highball. “Ever since the dig was canceled - ever since you told us not to give any statements to the media - you’ve known more than what you’ve been saying, but if you’re not saying it, then there must be a good reason why. And asking you just seemed… disrespectful.” 

His shoulders sag under some invisible weight and he exhales another deep sigh before lifting his glass and draining it. His tongue darts out to catch a stray drop on his bottom lip as his eyes turn distant. “It’s worse at night,” he whispers solemnly. “The moving shadows, the flashing lights… yes, the T-Rex shook the ground when she walked, but she was adept at hiding it during the hunt. But the raptors…” his words trail off with a trembling sigh. “Both stunning - fascinating in their intelligence - and utterly… terrifying.” 

You forget how to breathe, shocked by the gravity of his words. 

He purses his lips, fingers clenching around the empty glass as if regretting its empty state. “There was one moment… the two raptors had us flanked, had the advantage… and there was nothing….” He shakes his head with a trembling breath and horrific memory. “Absolute death stared me in the face and all I could do was stare helplessly back…”

You wait on baited breath, speechless and dumbfounded. 

He gives another helpless shake of his head. “And, then when it didn’t come… and you find yourself back in the normal world - buying groceries, doing laundry, making small talk with the neighbors - but you’re still shell shocked by it, by all of it, by suddenly… coming face-to-face with creatures that have been extinct for 65 million years, that I’ve devoted my life to study-” His voice chokes up, suddenly pushing to his feet and avoiding your gaze as he returns to the bar cabinet. 

His sudden motion stirs you to action, and you swallow the rest of your whiskey before rising and joining him at the cabinet. He pours another measure for himself, and you hold your glass out for a second round. Your eyes linger on his profile all the while, wanting so desperately to reach out and touch him - to soothe his troubled brow, to wrap him in the tightest hug. 

Your heart beats so loud that you wonder if he can hear it. “And you’ve carried all of that with you since… since you returned? There’s been no one that you could tell?” 

“Ellie, of course.” He says before taking another hearty gulp. “But she was there, too - and we both… at first, we thought we could ignore it. But life never returned to normal, and neither did we.” 

Your heart breaks anew as the silence stretches. Too many thoughts run through your head and you take a big drink of whiskey to help clear your head. But the growing fog at the corners of your mind tells a different story. Emboldened with another drink, your gaze returns to linger on the handsome definition of his profile - the strong line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the sweep of hair across his brow. What would it be to kiss his cheek? To trail your lips down to his, hearing his breath catch in the moment before his mouth meets yours? 

With a trembling breath, you shake your head to steady your thoughts. “T-thank you for telling me.” You say softly, your voice thready in the silence. “I have been concerned for you these last months, you know. Watching you just lose yourself in your work, like… if you stopped, something horrible would catch you. And now… now, it makes perfect sense.” Heat rises in your cheeks and you take another fortifying drink of whiskey. “You bore all the questions and media scrutiny with dignity, though - you’ve never once lost your temper or told anyone to fuck off. Sounds like you’d be well within your right if you did, though. Hell, I think I would have done it at least once by now.” 

Another wave of exhaustion overtakes him as he looks lost for words. Clearly everything he’s been through has taken quite the toll and continues to haunt him - and goodness, how can you leave him now? Err, not that you should stay the night - certainly not uninvited - but how can you go to New Mexico and leave him alone? If you’re the only person who knows what he’s been through, then that does mean he really has no one else…? 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers quietly, shaking his head with an air of shame. “That’s… a lot more than you bargained for tonight, I’m sure.” 

“No - please don’t apologize.” You reassure as your gaze roams freely over his face. “I think you needed the outlet, quite frankly. I’m just sorry that it manifested in a panic attack…” 

He glances over at you with a tired, lopsided smirk. “At least, I’m in good company - the best I could ask for, really.” 

Your heart warms at the sentiment and you’re helpless to hold back an answering smile as you all but melt under his gaze. “Same goes for you, you know.” 

Again, he holds out his glass to meet yours with another gentle clink before you each take another long drink. Endless questions swirl in the back of your brain because, seriously… what the fuck? Actual, living dinosaurs?! The how's and why's of such an impossible concept gnaw at your academic curiosity, urging you to keep asking him for details. But he looks so strung out and so tired, how could you possibly push him any further? In fact, maybe it's best if you just leave. Especially before you have the chance to do anything stupid  Swallowing the last mouthful of heady liquor, you take a deep breath. “Well, I should… I don’t want to be a bad houseguest and overstay my welcome.” 

“You haven’t overstayed anything,” he reassures gently. “It’s been nice to share a drink with you.” 

An appreciative smile curves your lips. “You, too.” You turn from the bar cabinet and thread back around the couch. The movement upends the lightheaded fog in your brain and your balance falters, tipping you towards the couch. You catch yourself with a steadying hand, and okay… maybe your meager dinner wasn’t enough for drinking whiskey. 

“Are you alright?” The gentle concern on his voice raises embarrassed heat in your cheeks as you try to offer a dismissive smile. 

“Yeah. I’m fine, thanks.” You try to ignore the dubious look on his face but your vibrato falters nonetheless. “Maybe just… my dinner wasn’t hearty enough for two glasses of whiskey.” 

An understanding look dawns on his face as he nods. “Well, if the dean would never forgive you for a car hitting me, then the dean would surely murder me if a former student gets a DUI on alcohol that can be traced back to my place.” His mouth curves with a suddenly shy, almost awkward smirk. “So, you can just… take my bed, and I’ll stay here on the couch.” 

Your mouth nearly falls agape as your cheeks flame. “Oh no, that’s… not necessary. You don’t need to be all chivalrous like that. I can just - the couch will be fine.” 

His eyes narrow with mild reproach as his grin sharpens. “Didn’t you just say that you don’t want to be a bad houseguest?” He taps a finger against his empty glass, waiting until you nod before continuing. “Then, stop refusing my hospitality.” 

Words choke in your throat as he starts to walk around the couch. Should you thank him again? Should you try to offer more protests? Your head spins as you suddenly feel deep in over your head and your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. 

“Just, uh…” He turns back around towards you, offering a small smile. “Make yourself at home, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

You nod quickly. “Okay, thank you…” Your brain goes into overdrive, and, holy shit… you’re going to spend the night at Dr. Grant’s house. 

In his bed. 

By yourself. 

Nothing about any of that should be real, and truly, such thoughts are best left to your secret midnight fantasies… yet, here you are. You long for another steadying drink of whiskey - or, perhaps water, better yet - and you exhale nervously. There’s no reason for you to freak out about this - and despite your initial protests, he’s being the perfect gentleman about the whole thing - and really, why should you complain about that? Especially if it’s going to let you sleep in his bed. 

Looking for a distraction from your raging thoughts, you step back up to the wide bookcase and examine the spines of the vinyl record albums. Vaughn Monroe, Patsy Cline, Waylon Jennings, Dolly Parton - so many artists that you have passing knowledge about but can’t put your finger on any one specific song. It appears that the couple who used to live here had a heavy love of twangy country music. Was this their music room? Did they spend hours two-stepping or just listening and singing together? 

Somehow, you can’t picture Dr. Grant… Alan doing that. In fact, you can almost picture a grumpy scowl if the idea of dancing around a living room was even suggested. The image shouldn’t tug at your heartstrings, but it does all the same. 

The padding of bare feet on the hallway’s wood floor catches your attention, and you look up just in time to see him return. Gone are his clothes from the day, replaced with a soft looking white t-shirt, striped blue pajama pants and a bathrobe with a turquoise and brown Southwest-inspired pattern. It’s not the most coordinated look, but he seems perfectly at ease as he drops a pillow and blanket down to the couch. 

“The bed sheets are relatively clean - washed within the last two weeks,” he says softly. “And if you want to change, I laid out a clean shirt and shorts for you. Also, you’ll find a toothbrush still in the package and a new toothpaste on the bathroom counter.” 

Your heart warms with fond surprise. “Wow, uh - thanks. That’s all surprisingly thoughtful of you.” 

He tips his head, meeting your gaze from under his lowered brow with an almost teasing, admonishing edge. “Just because I’m not married doesn’t mean that I’ve always lived alone.” 

Your mouth curves to a soft smile. “I didn’t mean it like that… truly, I do appreciate it. I guess it’s just not what I expected…” Affection colors your voice as you hold his gaze for a long moment before blinking back to yourself. “Good night.” 

He nods in agreement. “Good night. If you need anything, please just ask.” 

You return his nod before stepping out into the hallway. Walking back to the kitchen, you retrieve your purse before disappearing into the bathroom. It doesn’t take you long to brush your teeth and get ready for bed - at least, to the best of your limited ability. His house is old enough to only have one bathroom in the main hallway, and you turn the light off, noticing that a faint yellow glow still shines out from his study. For a split-second, you debate going back to wish him good night again… but for what purpose? You don’t have anything else to say that hasn’t already been said. 

Closing the bedroom door behind you, you glance around at the tidy, cozy interior of his room. If he ran around in a mad dash to clean up the room or make the bed for you, it doesn’t show. In fact, the chair next to his closet still hosts an assortment of random clothing, and your heart warms at the knowledge that he didn’t make an attempt to be anything other than himself around you. A smile tugs at your face as you approach the bed, setting your purse down next to the nightstand. 

Your smile widens as you take in the quilted bedcover in shades of navy and maroon set against white sheets, along the clothes he laid out for you. Admittedly, sleeping in jeans and your shirt from the day doesn't sound comfortable, and you quickly shed your clothes. The cotton shorts’ elastic waistband rides low on your hips and his shirt hangs oversized on your bra-less shoulders, but they carry a clean, fuss-free scent that makes you even more eager to nestle under the bedcovers. 

Pulling back the quilt, you slide against the soft sheets before reaching to turn off the nightstand light. Settling against the pillow, your heart pounds in the darkness and you still can’t believe where you are… and who’s just sleeping down the hall. Though, that just makes his bed feel all the more empty. Especially as you drown in his scent, rolling onto your side and snuggling against the pillow. Your eyes drift closed as your fingers reach out against the mattress. 

What would it be to have him lying here beside you? To feel his body heat radiating under the covers and the promise of his skin within reach? Would his breathing grow steady as he falls asleep, or would it be heightened with anticipation, on the last verge of restraint like yours? And when your fingers find his arm in the stillness, would he roll towards you? Would his mouth find yours in a rush of unbridled desire as you finally learn the taste of his kiss? Your fingers would drift towards his waist, enticing him to settle atop you and let the weight of his body push you into the mattress while devouring each other. 

Your body comes alive with the runaway fantasy, gasping softly as your hips twitch with aching need against the mattress. Fuck, you want him in here with you - want to say whatever it takes for him to just fuck you with abandon. Not that you consider yourself well-versed in ways to drive men wild, but any of the scenarios that you can conjure sound so cheap and contrived - and you’re not just going to walk through his house naked. You want him to want you, too, and that’s a far harder thing to get. 

With a frustrated sigh, you roll over to your other side, gripping the sheet close. Before closing your eyes, you notice that no light shines under the door from the hallway. Perhaps it’s easier for him to just close his eyes on his couch and blissfully sleep, completely ignorant of the way you yearn for him. 

That thought doesn’t help you get to sleep any faster, tossing and turning to try and dispel the heat on your skin. When next you open your eyes, the room appears darker in the late unknown hour, and you roll over, drowsily snuggling back into the pillow. His scent wraps around you like a comforting blanket, and it’s easy to imagine that he’s spooned up behind you with the sleep-warmed weight of his arm draped across your midsection. But a faint glow of light from the crack under the door catches your attention. 

What is he possibly doing awake at - a quick glance to his bedside clock shows - 1:48 AM? 

Pulling back the covers, your feet connect with the carpet as you walk over to open the door. The light spills out from his study and with a quiet yawn, you do your best to ignore the hallway’s chilly wood floor as you approach. Leaning a shoulder against the door frame, you pivot around the corner and your brow furrows in confusion. The plaid couch is empty, but the pillow and blanket reveal that someone has at least tried to sleep there. You tilt your head to rest against the door frame and cross your arms as you suddenly hear the sound of running water in the dark kitchen. 

A smirk teases your lips as you glance over, watching him move in the shadows and emerge back into the soft glow from the study’s floor lamp. If possible, he looks more exhausted than you’ve ever seen him, not helped as his brow furrows with questioning concern. “Hope I didn’t wake you.” His voice carries the rasp of recent disuse and nothing about it should ripple goosebumps along your skin. 

“You didn’t.” You say softly, as if anything louder would be inappropriate at such a late hour. “I was already awake and I saw the light…” Your words trail off as you take in his appearance, noting the disappearance of his rather unflattering robe before lingering on the careworn lines of his face. “Trouble sleeping?” 

“Yeah…” His mouth curves with a tired smile. “You could say that.” He raises his right hand to scrub across his face, and your gaze zeroes in on the dark mark high on his forearm, just beneath his elbow. 

A strikingly elegant, black-ink tattoo in the shape of a double spiral rests on his skin, and everything about it sends your mind racing. You haven’t given it much thought since glimpsing it that one afternoon in his office, but it just seems so out of character for him. Yet here’s undeniable proof staring you in the face. 

And speaking of staring… your cheeks flush as you finally look away, only to see the knowing expression on his face as he catches your obvious interest. 

Your mouth goes dry as you search for something not too horribly awkward to say. “It’s beautiful,” you finally settle on. “A symbol of a rebellious youth?” 

“Not quite.” Distant fondness tinges his voice as he glances down at the swirling lines of ink. “It’s Kirituhi - an art form based on Māori-style tattoos. A reminder of my second home.” 

The excerpt of his bio from the newspaper flashes in your mind. “New Zealand, right?” 

He nods slowly. “We had several people of Māori descent on Joan’s digs over the years - and their culture is just fascinating. Their connection to the past, to the present - to honoring what came before as a way to look to the future… well, that stuck with me considering that I spend my career digging in the past to build my own future.” He pauses to draw a breath as you listen with rapt attention. “And the spiral symbolizes the continuity of life - and, just as the dinosaurs had their time on this earth, so will the human race.” His mouth quirks with a sardonic grin. “I guess all we can hope is that our skeletons fossilize just as well as the dinosaurs’ to preserve our own legacy.” 

Your heart melts as it goes out to him. It’s far more insightful than you would have expected, and that makes it all the more beautiful. Unable to stop yourself, you push off the wall and close the short distance between you. Your fingers reach out to his forearm, turning it for a better look in the low light. The piece reveals far more delicate, intricate lines up close, and you sweep an appreciative thumb over the inked art. “That makes it just…" Your voice drops to a whisper thin tone as the air thickens. "All the more beautiful." 

You raise your gaze to his, wanting to drown in the azure pools of his eyes, and electricity crackles between you. The heat from his forearm curls through you to settle low in your belly. He’s so close now, and your long simmering arousal rises to a boil. Can he see it on your face? Can he see how much you want to kiss him? To have him wrap you in his arms and hold you close? To make the outside world disappear under the weight of him above you and the touch of him deep inside you? 

Maybe it’s the late hour, maybe it’s the vulnerability of the moment, maybe it’s the fire singing in your blood - but you let your hand trail up from his tattoo, up over his exposed bicep and the sleeve of his t-shirt. A shuddering breath runs through him as he breaks your gaze, squeezing his eyes closed. 

Your breathing quickens as you rise to your tiptoes and lean in, letting your breath skim the shell of his ear. “Tell me to stop and I will.” You whisper, emboldened by the maddening scent of his skin as another shuddering breath leaves him. “Tell me that you want to go back to your couch, and I’ll go back to your bed.” Your voice trembles as you sigh. “And I’ll keep pretending that I haven’t been wet for you all night.”             

“Fucking hell…” His voice strains with the last thread of control as your fingers dance along the line of his shoulder. “You… we shouldn’t…” 

Your fingers find the fine hairs along the nape of his neck as the tip of your nose brushes the shell of his ear. “Stop looking for a way to make this wrong if this is what you want, too.” Your other hand searches out his left hand that’s clenched at his side. “It’s okay, Alan,” you breathe as you draw his hand towards you. “Touch me… please.”  

The sudden force of his kiss makes you dizzy as his arms envelop you with the strength that you've fantasized about. Your heart soars as it races, meeting his embrace head on, devouring him as you want to be devoured. You cling to the broad plane of his shoulders as he crushes you close, the heat of him burning through your - his - borrowed clothes. The heady thought sends more liquid heat pooling in your core and, God… why are you still in the hallway? 

You urge him forward, keeping the inferno of his body so close as you back towards the bedroom. His broad hands clench against the small of your back, groaning as he crowds you against the wall and the full press of your hips connect. The solid ridge of his erection makes your mouth water as you grind your hips forward. There's nothing about this man that you don't want, and you have no reason to hide. 

"You have no idea…" he groans with an intoxicating, wild edge. "What hearing you does to me…" 

Sparks shoot down your spine as your body burns. "Please, Alan," you whimper. "I need you."

The growl that rumbles in his chest bypasses all rational thought, and you nearly lose your feet as he pulls you away from the wall. Wrapped in his arms, tangled with his legs, trading kisses and nibbles and moans, your head spins until the solid weight of his bed appears behind you. 

You paw at the hem of his shirt until he lifts his arms and the fabric slides free. Your eyes widen with hungry appreciation, wanting to map each facet of his chest with your tongue but you burn too hot for that patience right now. He snakes a calloused hand under your oversized shirt, cupping your breast with a maddening squeeze and delicious pressure. Pleasure shoots straight to your dripping core, a needy moan echoing in your throat as you arch against him. 

"Please…" you breathe against his lips, gripping his waist to grind against his cock. "Fuck me… Alan." 

He groans and his arms clamp around your midsection, all but dragging you fully onto his bed. The force of his strength takes your breath away as you push at the waistband of his pajama pants and underwear. There's no grace in the kisses that dissolve to gasping breaths or the scramble of hands to reveal bare skin. And when the tip of his cock slides through your wetness, your tandem guttural groans echo in the stillness of the bedroom. 

"Wait, wait…" You manage to gasp, barely recognizing your own voice. "I'm not… we need -” your cheeks burn despite the intimate press of your bodies. "My bag has something, if you don't…"

He exhales a shuddering moan as if still struggling for control. Or perhaps he's embarrassed - a rational man of his intelligence so undone by his body. But then he skims his lips along your ear and his breath sears your skin. "And here I thought you were my innocent girl." The luscious, teasing rasp to his voice rushes more liquid heat through you. "Are you always so prepared, hmm?"

You struggle to breathe through the blinding surge of arousal. "A girl never knows when she'll meet the right guy…" Your nails dig into his back for emphasis, rewarded with his delicious gasp as you cradle his hips closer to yours. "And you've been the right guy for longer than I should admit." 

"Fuck, don't say that…" His head drops to the junction of your neck and shoulder as his hips surge forwards. The thick slide of him through your soaked folds nearly undoes you, but you paw at his shoulder with urgent need. 

"My bag… unless you have -" Your voice cuts off in a gasp as he shifts suddenly, reaching over you for the bedside table. The scrape of the wooden drawer and tear of foil heightens your anticipation before his strong, nimble fingers find purchase against your thigh. Following his coaxing movements, you spread your legs wide and wrap around his backside as he positions above you. His eyes blaze with wildfire as you lean up to kiss him, gasping as he eases forward in a slow, steady glide. 

Your eyes roll back at the thick, full stretch of him as your body adjusts to the delicious invasion. The kiss turns to a heavy, moaning breath as the connection threatens your sanity. You can't remember the last time - if ever - you've been so full of man, and your toes curl as you sink blissfully back against the mattress. 

"Having you in my clothes, in my bed… like this," his voice pitches deep as he drinks you in with dark, blown-wide eyes. "So goddamn gorgeous."

Words escape you as his hips roll back and surge forward, striking the deepest part of you. Electricity jolts through you as he thrusts again, and you surrender the last facet of your rational mind. Your body moves with his on primal instinct, driven to chase the euphoria promised each time he strikes your deep-rooted pleasure point. 

You cling to him as he moves over you, against you, inside you - and you’re so fucking close. The coil at the base of your spine winds tighter with each stroke that builds a rhythm to ruin you for life. His pleasured groans and grunts of exertion mingle with your staccato cries as your body goes taut, arching against him. Your orgasim hits hard, stars exploding behind your closed eyelids as waves of euphoria rock through you. His hips stutter to a stop as he buries himself in you with a strangled groan of relief.

The moment stretches to an eternity as you hold him close, wanting to burn the memory of him like this into your brain. Your lips trail along the defined line of his jaw as he nuzzles your cheek, and your breathing starts to settle out. His mouth finds yours for a long, lazy kiss as the afterglow deliciously numbs your senses. You hum contentedly against his lips. “That was so… beyond fucking good.” Every muscle relaxes against the mattress as your eyelids drop heavily with exhaustion. “I hope you’re able to sleep a little better now.” 

He half-sighs, half-laughs as the tip of his nose brushes yours. “Yeah… you, too.” 

You meet for another, slow kiss before you reluctantly let him go. It’s not nearly as awkward as you tell yourself it should be as he retreats to the bathroom, returns with a warm washcloth for you, and he steps into your - his - shorts before rejoining you in bed. You debate reaching for your discarded underwear but the hem of his shirt falls long enough, and a lingering thrill whispers through you as your bare lower half reconnects with his skin. 

In the room’s silence, he lays on his back as you snuggle up to his side. His arm comes around your shoulders, and you listen to the sound of his breathing, just existing with him as the waking world starts to yield to dreamland. 

You don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but you refuse to let him go until you have to. 

Series Main List

[princeofpace]

It used to be so Civilized

Jon Moxley/Bryan Danielson

Home Invasion Kink; Choking TW

[Ao3]

Moxley adjusted his leather gloves, flexing his fingers as he did. They were well taken care of, oiled and soft. The heat of his hands had shaped the gloves over the years of use he got out of them. He couldn’t help the way it made him excited to wear the pair for this.

He grabbed the crowbar off the ground, quietly as he could. It was just past midnight. The property was quiet as can be, especially for this time of night. It was after midnight; if Mox had to guess it was around 2 AM. Quiet, save for the wind and rustling leaves. He rounded the house to the side door. It would be less likely someone would see him there. Black mock neck, with black cargo pants and boots practically hid him in the darkness of the night.

M ox knocked on the door, waiting a moment before twirling the crowbar in his hand, wrapping both hands around the crowbar, raising his over his head and knocking the doorknob clean off. A gloved hand grabs the shattered knob, gripping it tightly as he yanked it off, fingers entering the hole that had been cut out for the knob as he quietly opened the door, shutting it behind him silently, as if it even mattered.

Boots found themselves on kitchen tile, tracking in some dirt as he walked around, crowbar trailing on the ground behind him. His lazy saunter took him through the house, as he memorized the various rooms. The kitchen was on the side, there was a cozy den in the back that lead out to a patio, a nice bedroom turned exercise room on the first floor. Dining room, with fancy looking wood furniture, and a cotton table runner that was stained with use. There were papers and documents here and there. A sense of being lived in was present in the house. Mox liked that. The photos, the paintings, the decorations. Part of him wanted to start smashing away, at TVs and glass; to tear up couch cushions with the knife he had strapped to his left leg.

That wasn’t what he was here for though.

Mox picked up a picture frame. A photo of Nigel and Bryan from their ROH days. It was a nice picture. Cute, the way Bryan didn’t look at the camera and had an awkwardness to him that was still present to this day. Nigel seemed as confident and cocky as ever, just with some extra chub on him. He looked good too, and Mox would’ve loved having taken a crack at him personally in the ring.

He looked around the room. It was a little sitting area in the front of the room, with plenty of photos and knickknacks to choose from. There was a display of belts in a glass case, that Mox walked ove r to, mostly to muse over. All the fancy gold and belts in the world didn’t matter to him right now. This wasn’t what he was here for either.

The real prize was up those stairs. He knew exactly where his mark was. As quietly as he could in his Magnum work boots, he made his way up the stairs. There was no subtlety in how the crowbar thunked up each stair, lagging right behind him like a dog being dragged.

The second floor landing was all hardwood, compared to the carpeted floors of most of the first floor. Master bedroom, that was his target.

Walking up to each door, he kicked them in with ease. Bathroom. Empty bedroom. Office room. Finally, with two doors left, he found it.

The room was dark, spacious, with the curtains drawn but fluttering as the windows past them were open. It was quiet, save for the soft hum of a white noise machine and the gentle through the curtains. There was a ceiling fan but it wasn’t running. The bed was off to the left, headboard against the center of the wall. There was two nightstands, but one was woefully cleared of any contents on top of it. The other held a few things on top of it: a book, a lamp, and a framed photo.

“Bryan…Bryan…” Moxley called out, watching the lump under the comforter try not to shift. “Let’s not make this difficult.”

He walks over to the bed, boots silenced as they land on carpet under the bed frame. Mox hooks the part of the crowbar that’s curved onto the duvet, slowly dragging it down. There was his target, his prey…Bryan Danielson. Wide eyed, nervous as a jackrabbit. Ready to run like one too. Stripped down to just a plain white t-shirt and some plaid boxers. Mox ran the crowbar down Bryan’s body, cold metal starting under his chin and trailing over his clothes. Against his hardening nipples, pushing the crowbar into them as he watched Bryan bite his lip.

Mox couldn’t believe his own arousal, not hiding it as he groaned watching Bryan’s reactions as the crowbar went lower, hooking into his boxers and pulling the waist band away from Bryan’s hips for just a moment, before letting them snap back into place. Bryan is still able to keep silent, but the outline of his dick through his boxers was clearer than ever. Moxley pushes the crowbar against it, and to his frustration still no response. So he does the next thing that comes logically to him, raising that crowbar above his head. Panic fills Bryan’s eyes, as he quickly rolls out of the way just in time as Moxley brings the crowbar down onto the bed.

Bryan is on the floor for just a moment, scrambling up to his feet. He runs for the closet and Mox barks out a laugh.

“There’s no way you could hold me off right now babe, give it up.” He walks over to the closet Bryan is trying to lock himself into, grabbing Bryan and pulling him off the door. That earns him an elbow to the face that sends him staggering back with a “FUCK!” and the dropping of the crowbar he was holding as he brings a gloved hand up to his face, checking for any blood from his nose.

There’s the slightest glint of relief in Bryan’s eyes as he opens the door to the closet and rushes to close himself in it, but Mox is quicker and stronger, especially right now. Especially after Saturday. Leather hands on both the door’s edge and the corner of the wall into the closet keep the door open. Mox grunts as Bryan keeps trying to shut the door, trying to kick Moxley’s leg out from under him.

“You fucking bastard,” Moxley isn’t having it, kicking Bryan’s knee and making him fall back into the walk-in closet. He lands on his ass and scrambles backwards, further into the mess of shoes on the floor. Mox completely opens the door, stalking further in.

Suddenly, Bryan tries to dash from be tween Moxley’s legs, and for a moment he’s almost made it through before the home invader literally drops on top of Bryan, pinning him to the ground.

“Look at you champ,” Moxley gets an arm around Bryan’s throat, threatening him with that triangle choke. He pets Bryan’s hair, shushing him before he can even speak. “You can make this easy Bryan, or very, very hard.”

Bryan lets out a low whine from his throat, his arms tucked under him. He tries for the army crawl. Moxley can’t help but be entirely endeared to it, before squeezing his arm tighter around Bryan’s neck, who lets out a groan in response.

“Good boy, that’s what I want to hear.”

Mox adjusts himself on top of Bryan, pressing his hard dick against Bryan’s ass. Even with the layers of clothes between them, he could feel how much Bryan wanted him inside him. Moxley was so used to Bryan being able to put up more of a fight, that his submission only made him feel even more excited. Like a mutt in heat, he began to rut against Bryan. Bryan pushed his hips up against Mox’s dick, and the bliss of it got to Mox as his arm loosened around Bryan’s neck.

“Mox, just fuck me already, please—”

That arm around his throat tightened.

“Now keep quiet,” Mox whispered in Bryan’s ear, before biting it hard and pulling on it with his teeth.

With his left arm free, he snuck it under Bryan, making him lift his hips more into Mox ley ’s as Moxley got his knees up under h im.

Now that there was enough space, his gloved hand was shoved into Bryan’s boxers from the front, earning him a hitched noise from Bryan. Even with the gloves, he could feel the slick precum leaking from Bryan’s dick. Rubbing his thumb against the head of his dick, Bryan moaned, as Moxley began to rub harder just under the head of his dick, into the shaft, before starting to jerk him off.

Mox couldn’t help himself, savoring the small pants and noises Bryan made as Moxley humped him from behind and got him off with his hand alone. It wasn’t very long for Bryan to reach the edge of his orgasm, something Moxley was surprised with. Bryan usually had so much self control. The fact that he was this easy tonight was like he was being served wagyu beef for free. Not something he wanted all the time, but something he could savor right now.

Instead, despite protesting whines from Bryan, Moxley had other plans. He pulled Bryan’s briefs off, one side and then the other, struggling as Bryan tried to stop him with pathetic attempts at flailing. To keep him down, Moxley removed his arm from Bryan’s throat, instead deciding to bite down as hard as he could without breaking skin at the right side of Bryan’s throat. He finally got the boxers off, balling them up in his fist and shoving them into Bryan’s mouth.

“If you want to get what you want, you’ll keep that in your mouth okay?” He was practically growling in Bryan’s ear, a thread of spit having connected Bryan’s throat to Mox’s mouth as he spoke. Bryan could barely nod, his eyes clearly showing he was blissed out already.

The impromptu gag was to give Bryan some sense of relief, from being choked and to let him get more vocal should he want. Mox knew Bryan, in his stubbornness, that he’d keep quieter than either of them enjoyed out of some semblance of pride.

Moxley always loved dismantling that pride.

He grabbed Bryan by the hips, lifting them up. Bryan always looked great with his face against the floor and his ass up in the air. Moxley reached into one of his cargo pants’ pockets, pulling out a small bottle of lube. He flipped the cap open, free hand pulling at Bryan’s asshole to expose it. With two fingers above it and two fingers below it, he stretched it out to drop some lube over it, and over his fingers.

“Relax or this’ll hurt,” Moxley warned, as if Bryan didn’t know. He took his pointer and middle finger, pouring some more lube over the gloves, before pushing them slowly inside Bryan, who seemed more than eager to accept the fingers into himself. Moxley worked them in, pushing slowly before scissoring his fingers to try to open his prey up. His fingers were thick, made thicker with the gloves, and he curled them with muscle memory guiding him. Bryan let out a muffled groan from where his face was pressed into the carpet, and Mox couldn’t help the grin on his own face.

He curled his fingers one last time before pulling them out. Moxley undid the button on his cargo pants, unzipping them, before tugging his own dick out through the hole in his boxers. He grabs the lube again, pouring more on Bryan before his own dick. From there, it was grabbing Bryan by the hips with one hand, his other hand leading his dick into the other man’s ass.

He slid in slowly.

“Breathe, baby,” Mox reminded Bryan as his shaft disappeared into Bryan. “You always feel so damn good.”

Once the base of his own hips were flush with Bryan’s ass, he began to thrust into him harder and faster. Both hands gripped into the other man’s hips as he did, starting to shove Bryan onto his dick than thrusting himself. Bryan’s muffled moans only egged Moxley on as he picked up the pace. Gloved fingers dug into Bryan’s flesh, as he clenched around his assailant.

Suddenly, Moxley reaches his left hand down toward Bryan’s head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling him up like that, before wrapping that arm around Bryan’s throat once again, pressing Bryan’s back against his chest as he continued to fuck him, shifting to thrusting his hips into him.

“You’re so close babe, you can do it,” Mox whispered in his ear, before groaning as Bryan writhed against him. He could feel the way Bryan was getting close, knowing he wasn’t too far behind. He could feel his orgasm coming closer and closer, nearly being pushed over the edge as Bryan came over himself, thick white stripes of cum painting the carpet in front of them.

Moxley let himself release into Bryan, filling him up with his own cum. He kept pumping his hips, groaning low and long as he continued to come into Bryan. The warmth around his dick felt amazing like always as Bryan was starting to go limp in his arms.

He finally lets go of Bryan, onto the carpet under them. He pitches forward unceremoniously. All that’s filling the air is the sound of panting, and the smell of sweat and cum.

They stayed in that position for a few moments, Mox’s softening dick in Bryan. Slowly, Mox pulls out, tucking his dick away into his boxers and zipping up the cargo pants, buttoning it up. He stands, admiring his work. Bryan, flat on the ground, with cum leaking out of his ass, back rising and falling as he breathed. Reaching down, Moxley pulled the dirty boxers out of Bryan’s mouth. Through teary eyes, Bryan looks up at him and Mox smiles. He liked this view, a lot. He always loved seeing his work, when he could dismantle Bryan. This was a lot less methodical than normal, but it worked out pretty well.

Moxley bent over, grabbing Bryan’s face and giving him a rough kiss on the cheek.

“Love ya. Feel better Bryan.”

[ryuzatodraws-archive]

If the prompt thing is still open, could I request 71 with Copiiia please

‘’That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant’’

Terzo sighs as he watch Copia pushes the dresser back in place. The Cardinal had been at it for hours now, rearranging the furniture back into places.

‘’Copia are you listening? I said we should leave some treats out for the rat in case it comes back.’’ Terzo sits back in his chair. 

‘’Si yes, move the furniture out of the way so we can see it!’’ The Cardinal moves another stool away, as if making space around the bait that Terzo had set.

‘’That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant…’’ The Papa kept watching the man shuffling the books now.

Mr Rigatoni had unfortunately escaped his enclosure that morning, Copia said it scurried right into Terzo’s office and to avoid the rat slipping out again, Copia had closed and barricaded the door. Now nobody gets in or out of the office.

That was…Copia’s plan that is. That was also 2 hours ago.

The Cardinal sits on the couch with a creek of the leather, as he takes off his biretta Terzo couldn’t help but to stare at him .

‘’You have …such a sharp profile.’’   

‘’Oh? Ah thank you, I got it from my mother. I think.’’ Copia fixes back his hair as he fans himself. ‘’You’re not so bad too.’’

‘’ah, people used to say I got mine from my father. Especially the older ghouls.’’ Terzo twirls the pen in his hand, spinning it idly.

He had been trying hard to not look like his father. From the facepaint, to the slicked back hair Terzo tried his best to stray away from Nihil as best as he can.

He had been succeeding so far.

‘’Well maybe a little but you still look quite different. I can’t imagine the old man looking as good as you.’’ The  Cardinal finally relaxes.

It was Terzo’s turn to blush as he wave with his hand away. ‘’you’re right, theres no way he’s as good looking as me.’’ The Papa reaches for his secret stash of snacks, opening the container when he yelps.

‘’A rat!’’

Copia hurriedly went over, checking inside the container and there he is. Mr Rigatoni helping himself to Terzo’s biscoff cookies.

‘’There you are! He was in here the whole time!’’ Copia excitedly picks the small rodent up , cuddling it. ‘’I thought I lost you!’’

A sigh of relief before Terzo fixes his shirt . ‘’Eh please take the whole container as well…’’

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector’s Edition: Coming Home to Their Unremarkable House

Whether they be road-weary, discouraged at their losses, or happy in each other, Mulder and Scully always carve out a piece of the world for themselves to bunker into. These fics are a few variations on finding their perfect home. 

Loose canonical order below~  Canon Timelines 

@purrykat​/mylifeinshadow‘s Maps for the Getaway

““She’d lost so much, sacrificed so much. Little more than five minute phone calls to her mother on store bought burner phones to connect her to her old life. You’ve considered it so many times, just up and leaving. You’d be doing her a favor, allowing her a freedom she hadn’t known since walking into your office nearly ten years ago. Every time you’ve talked yourself into it, the mere sight of her so small in an over sized hotel bed, clutching a blanket, the last remaining connection to her son, and you’d found yourself breaking down instead. So selfish. So, so selfish. But not anymore.””  

Mulder is so moved by Scully’s noble sacrifices that he puts his “selfishness” aside to get her what will truly make her happy. 

CSM’s Home Sweet Home 

““She can see a rainbow of emotions fly across Dana’s face before she nods her head in agreement. Dana finger’s curl around her own phone, the metallic blue of the Razor glistening in the bright sunlight.

“Do you need to make a call before we go?” Anna Maria asks her kindly.

Dana shakes her head, “I want to see the house before I call, makes no sense getting….I prefer to see the house first.””

Monica’s realtor aunt gets two interesting clients; but loyalty to her niece keeps her nose directly out of their business. 

Chibiness’s Impulse Buy

““Missy told her once her impulsiveness would only end her up in trouble; that no good could ever come from an impulse buy. So she swapped her impulsive attitude from clothes to life choices.

Like swapping her focus from medicine to the FBI.

And getting a tattoo on a dare.

And running away from her respected life to a life on the lam.””

Scully impulsively buys a house for Mulder; but her happiness drops when she thinks Mulder doesn’t want it. Happily, that is not the case.  

@atths--twice​’s (Ao3, Alt. Ao3, FFN) Refuge

““We need food, Mulder. I will be fine.”

“I know. I just…”

“I know.”

Scully sneaks Mulder to their new home; and sneaks back out to surprise him with a little celebration for his birthday.

@crossedbeams‘s (Ao3) Mulder, it doesn't go in like that! 

““Scully’s objections are swallowed by gravity as Mulder risks her wrath and uses his strength to tug her over the arm and on to the seat.””

Mulder cares for one thing and one thing only: to shove his leather couch in. The rest of the furniture can be done later (and he’s successfully convinces Scully with his usual brand of logic.) 

@hipsbef0rehands/Millenial_Falcon’s (WBM/WBM) A Nice Hike in the Woods (Ao3)

““He had been trying hard to make their new house a home, feeling responsible for dragging her into this new life. For Thanksgiving he had attempted to cook a small turkey unsuccessfully. They ended up salvaging what parts of the bird they could and making sandwiches with a side of potatoes and green beans.””

Scully sees Mulder’s desperate scramble to turn their UH into a home for her. She follows him into the woods, and is surprised by his kindness. 

@scullyphile​‘s (Ao3) Unnamed

““The Lone Gunmen were over to her apartment for the first time since she brought their son home. They had laughed with her and Mulder about old times and doted on their son like proud uncles. Before they left, Byers had produced a camera.

“I want to get a shot of the happy family,” he’d said.””

While moving in, Scully finds a happy family photo that TLG had taken... before the dark times.

@seek-its-opposite​ (Ao3, WBM) the second law of motion

““Mulder smiles, grabs both of her palms in his long fingers. And kneels.“Mulder, what—?”

“Dana Scully,” he begins, solemn as a sacrament. “Will you watch paint dry with me?”

This is the man she married under a made-up name in a one-stoplight town, in sickness and in health and under threat of state-sanctioned execution. She loves him.””

Mulder and Scully settle into their house; and agree to never mention any “lost time”, instead savoring the present.

@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk​‘s (Ao3) Unnamed

““Every half hour or so, he called out to her to once again be his watch. “Missed any spots?” He’d ask, careful not to get paint in his eyes when he shielded them from the sun. From her notable distance, nearly swallowed by the shade of their walnut tree, she looked up, squinted, and gave him a thumbs up. He returned to work, and she returned to the same sentence she’d been reading from the time she had sat down.””

Mulder’s blissful ignorance in his new domestic routines shields him from Scully battling emotions as she broods about a pregnancy test... which turns negative.

@scully-loves-ruthie’s Fictober Day 17

““Dusk settled outside the house.  The smooth amber glow snaked its way across the front porch ushering in the promise of twilight.  The air snapped with fallen leaves and a sharp chill, all the ambiance of a movie night. They’d settled into the house 2 months ago, to call the lead up to finally having a real home together harrowing would be putting it mildly.  They had lived life through the rocky crags of tragedy tumbling out the other end shiny worn-down pebbles, necessary in their existence.  As they repurposed their personalities and shorn love affair to fit into a happily domesticated couple, the exchange they had made was causing more than a few growing pains.””

Mulder rents Legally Blonde to shake up his and Scully’s odd feelings.

@vgcam/veredgf‘s Christmas Lights

““It was their first Christmas celebration as a couple. Not that they hadn’t been together during the past number of Christmases but this one was different. This one was being celebrated.

After hiding out in New Mexico for a good number of years they’d finally managed to find themselves a place of their own. No more moving every few days from one motel to another. No more transient jobs for Scully, no more windows they had to draw the blinds on so nobody would find out where he, Mulder, was hiding.””

Mulder’s banter hits a raw nerve of Scully’s, since they can’t welcome William to the new home she bought them. He leaves a sign up for him, anyway.

@tatooedlaura-blog​‘s (Ao3, Gossamer) Her Own

““She lived in five different houses with her family, called Maggie’s current place home since she was eight, leased her condo on a yearly basis and bunked in 427 different hotel rooms in the last two years but now, as she walked into the dusty, slightly sad, sagging, weather-beaten gray farmhouse, she felt the smallest of flames flare in her chest.

She had her own home.

She had her own Mulder.””

Scully is so happy to finally own a house of her own. Mulder is interested in being introduced to ladybugs.

@greekowl87​‘s (Ao3)

Gardening

““He remembered her look of surprise when he mentioned staying in a place for a few months and instead of a few weeks. He shrugged and suggested it would be a nice change of pace for them. She just gave a Mona Lisa smiled and said nothing.

She was smiling even more when she saw the house for the first time. He remembered standing in the doorway nervously as she inspected each room in her meticulous Scully-esque way. She came back, smiling. Tears in her eyes.””

Mulder buys he and Scully some plants to help put down their roots.  

Summer Humidity

““Despite the window A.C. unit spitting out cold air, Scully pulled back the sheets to their bed in a haze of sleep. Sweat clung to her and she felt gross. She was hot and sweaty and she bemoaned the thought how bad summers in Virginia could get with the humidity, even with dying A.C, and how much she had forgotten in the years she had been absent. She rolled onto her stomach ungracefully, her arm making a large sweeping motion, searching for Mulder, only to find the bed empty. Her sleepy mind blinked itself awake as she sat up in bed. Mulder was nowhere to be found.

They had just purchased the unremarkable house.””

Scully finds Mulder awake one hot and sticky night, simply absorbing the feeling of their new house. She joins, content.

@debbierhea​/@i-am-alittle-on-edge​/thexfilesbabe ‘s (WBM, Alt. WBM)

We Wander One - Wanna Dance?

““When Scully returned to the kitchen, they put the groceries away together, picking out the best shelf in the fridge for her yogurt and the most convenient cabinet for his Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. They had fun, teasing each other and flirting as paper plates and silverware were unpacked from the final bag and Scully began making them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Sitting crisscross applesauce on the living room floor, Mulder and Scully ate their sandwiches and chips. While Mulder got up for two glasses of iced tea, Scully stole half of his Cheetos off his plate and when he returned, Mulder pretended not to notice, smirking to himself as he caught sight of the red stains on her fingertips.””

Mulder and Scully are so happy with their domesticity that they dance.  

Unnamed

““He’s so in love it’s almost ridiculous. He always had a feeling that settling into a home would feel better for both of them, but he hadn’t realized just how much tension had been stuck between them since they hit the road. The moment she walked up the steps and took a deep breath, turned to him and said, “It’s perfect,” was the moment he realized just how much time they had spent being upset and stressed. She looked ten years younger that day, with a braid hanging over her shoulder.””

Mulder observes as Scully slowly adjusts to calm domesticity, even considering writing to Maggie.  

Lolabeegood’s (mulderscreek) Gardening Day

““I'm not trying to impress anyone," she said as she turned to look at him more fully.  "I just want some flowers; what's the crime in that?"

"Scully, I'm not saying..." he started and then stopped.  "It's just that you've never shown much interest in...in nesting.”"

Mulder questions Scully about her new botanical bent. She finally feels “home.”

@melforbes/@claup​‘s (Ao3, WBM, Alt. WBM)  

““next week, she has an interview with a hospital, but if that doesn’t work out, she’ll pursue private practices, maybe even find a natural medicine clinic or two where she can apply; all she asks is that she ends up in the medical field, starts that part of her life. though she always saw life as a series of linear accomplishments, she’s beginning to understand that life extends in multiple dimensions - “like how the mantis shrimp sees, scully,” she hears him say in her head - and that there will, in fact, be places that want her.””

Scully is elated to have a home, and even more content that she has found a wholeness in her sense of self.  

@lepus-arcticus​‘s

Unnamed

““Silence was absence. It was the echoing emptiness of Chilmark hallways. It was mothballs folded into a pink quilt, and then stowed away in an heirloom cedar chest in the basement. It was a picture frame face-down on his mother’s bedside table. It was waking up from dreams of his son’s newborn squall. But this silence was new. He stood at the open screen door and scratched at his beard, marveling at the pillowy softness of three feet of overnight, unbroken snow. The only sound was Scully’s even breathing from the air mattress in the living room.

This silence was good, was right, was patience, was love.””

Mulder considers the newness of this silence in a home.

O Hushed October Morning Mild

““Mulder, please stop talking.” He pauses, smiling gently down at her, suddenly a little lovestruck. This is their home, he reminds himself. No more motels, no more remote hideaways. They have a home. With a porch, and a gas-burning stove, and a clawfoot bathtub, and a dusty old attic. His leather couch is out of storage, their books together on the shelves. In the last few weeks of living here, he’s felt strange, like he’s been peering in from the outside at the life of another, luckier man.””

Mulder’s joy over his new domesticity with Scully bubbles over in October.

@leiascully​‘s (Ao3) Housewarming (Ao3)

““I love this,” she said, the words cloudy in the air. She’d always been afraid of that before, she thought, that if she told him she loved him, it would linger between them, tangible. She wasn’t afraid now. Whatever she didn’t have, she had him, and they had the house, and they had built something solid between them, somewhere between the Southwest highways and the trail through the woods.””

Mulder chops wood for he and Scully to admire in their new home while they brew up plans for the future. 

FridaysAt9′s Five Christmases - Chapter 5

““I also bought cinnamon rolls and fruit when I was out yesterday, so we can have a nice breakfast.”

“Is there bacon?”

“Maybe,” she said with a smile.

“Dana Scully,” he said with a teasing tone. “Are you giving us an idyllic Christmas?””

Mulder calls Maggie for a home warming and Christmas dinner all rolled in one.

@iwtbscully/@jewish-mulder/@anders-hawke/BananaChef‘s Enigmatic

““He beckons her over and she goes with a sigh as if she truly disapproves, laying down next to Mulder on her side. “Alright, but only because I love you.”

“That’s funny, ‘cause I love you, too,” he replies, rolling over to face Scully with a grin. “I guess we’re in agreement.”

“I love you and our creaky house in rural Virginia. Say hi to your mom for me tomorrow.””

Mr. and Mrs. Egotistical have fun settling into their new routines. Mulder, particularly, loves getting Scully out of work early. 

Canon-Divergent/AU Timelines

@scully-loves-ruthie’s Unnamed

““All immediate reservations aside she’d grab his hand, the slap of the screen door a symphony of forgotten charges, dead bodies being dragged across the threshold finally laid to rest.  

“Here,” She’d say as she beckoned him against what would surely be his office door.  “Is where we’ll fight about you leaving trails of sunflower seeds on the floor.  A chocking hazard if I’ve ever seen one.””

S8 Mulder and Scully map out their son’s future growth on the walls of the Unremarkable House. It all ends squashed hopes. (I like to skip the sad ending and Frankenstein it into my happier headcanon post S8.)

@postmodernpromartheus​‘s Unnamed  

““Life with a baby on the lamb is nothing but a challenge. The endless running is wearing on her and Mulder. Will, however, is just as happy as calm. It’s his normal, and she’s begun to wonder how much therapy he’s going to need as a teenager.””

Mulder helps Scully to heal the broken bond Maggie had shattered when her daughter and grandson vanished onto the open road. In return, Maggie helps them get their Unremarkable House. 

Tess’s (Alt. Ao3) Take No Chances 

““To the funeral," he clarified. 

"I can't, Mulder.  How?  There's no..."  She shook her head in automatic denial. "I can't," she repeated. 

"Scully... your mother's funeral... surely we can find a way.”"

Mulder is shattered to have to tell Scully about Maggie’s death; but he is blown away by her strength and belief in her mother’s love and understanding.  

@iwtbscully/@jewish-mulder/@anders-hawke/BananaChef‘s

Unnamed

““For legal reasons,” she elaborated. “We can get a higher tax return, and there’s marital benefits in the event that one of us is injured.”

He looked away and nodded. “Makes sense.”

“We can go down to the courthouse in a couple days to do it. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Mulder replied, not meeting her eyes.

Scully suggests marriage practically; but Mulder is soon heartened to find out his wife does, indeed, have a romantic streak as well.

@dashakay​‘s (Ao3, Gossamer)

Fabric of Our Lives

““Dr. Cooper-Gowdy, my obstetrician, is one of the foremost specialists in high-risk pregnancy.  She has given me every pre-natal test known to medicine and the results have all come back within normal parameters.  This is the thread I cling to, the only thing that keeps my sanity during this endless waiting.

And Mulder, of course. Through the years in the FBI, working on the X-Files, we kept each other sane.  The terror, the tragedy, the loss were enough to send the healthiest of psyches completely to the brink, but we managed to keep each other from splintering apart.””

Mulder and Scully are married, mortgaged, and medically bed-bound all in the hopes her IVF miracle won’t succumb to the placenta previa diagnosis. She quilts for her family while she waits.

Bound Together With Invisible Cord

““I once told Scully I'd walk through fire for her.  I did not say those words lightly.  She would do the same for me.  She has, a hundred times over. It is getting late.  

She has been asleep for at least five hours.””

Mulder waits for Scully to wake from her drugged sleep, reminiscing over their relationship and their daughter.  

@lyndsaybones’s (Ao3) 

AU where Mulder and Scully move in together circa S7?

““She wants grass, a place where they can see the stars. The more she thinks about it, the more she likes it. 

“You wouldn’t be able to just go around the corner for milk and bread, you know,” he reminds her, looking at the real estate ads.

“I know.”

He nods and smiles, goes back to searching.””

Even though the IVF fails, Mulder insists he and Scully still buy the UH. 

Follow up AU where Scully gets to rock William in the white chair 

““She’s too tired to get up on a sunny Saturday morning. They were meant to be pulling the million year old tile backsplash out of the kitchen today, but she’s just so sleepy.””

After Scully collapses during their home renos, she and Mulder speed up their house projects before the impending arrival of their son. 

There we go!

Enjoy! 

[approximatelysomething]

What's in store From Your Turn Armchair

The turn armchair is a great creation that adds a component of comfort to our homes or work environments. Could you accept that the designer of this superbly functional piece of furniture was 'Thomas Jefferson' the third leader of the U.S.? He is visit site here really known for making various different gadgets that currently make our lives somewhat simpler.

In the wake of a difficult day at work you believe that a spot should rest your bones and disregard the concerns of your day, this is where the turn armchair comes into the image. There are various types of turn armchairs, some intended for office use and others to find a place with your home's special style. Whichever one you pick, there are a few factors that you ought to remember while making the choice. A large portion of the chairs are quite sensibly priced and go for somewhere close to $500 and $4500; clearly the better quality armchairs will have more comfort functions, yet for those on a lower spending plan you can in any case find a few cheaper models that offer a reasonable setup of comfort.

At the point when you are given so many choices it very well may be very challenging to settle on the right one, so to assist you with making this choice here are 3 of the freshest turn armchairs in various price ranges.

1. Retro style - The retro turn armchair is really roused by the plans of the last part of the 60's and mid 70's when solid, basic uproarious colors and novel shapes were a popular tasteful in furniture making. This chair is priced mid reach at $550, which may not suit the vast majority's spending plan. This chair is a great addition for the people who like everything retro, except the downside is that it has restricted movability. The chair rests on a solitary turn post and a round stand, you can utilize a foot pedal to raise or lower the level of the seat, end of story.

2. Ikea Malung turn chair. This is a sensibly priced model, which has permitted the normal individual on a lower financial plan to have a gorgeous turn armchair in their homes. This chair is priced at just $169 each and can be purchased from any Ikea stockroom in your city. Again the down side to this model is that you can change the point of the back help. The Malung turn armchair is shrouded in a phony leather cover, which gives great obstruction from dampness, keeping your chair new.

3. Eames and Ottoman Parlor Chair. Presently this turn armchair is probably positioned up in the main 10 comfortable family turn chairs ever. Sadly it isn't available for a great many people, as it's priced at somewhere in the range of $3000 and $5000. For this measure of cash you get a chair made with a pecan finish and canvassed in quality leather. The chair offers various changes for your general comfort; it really looks like a top notch seat on an airplane. You can change the head rest position, back help point and level, armrest levels and raise or lower the entire chair. This model likewise accompanies a matching footrest, in the event you need to sleep a bit.

[melbourneleatherco]

Modern Home Rustication with Cowhide Cushions

Cowhide cushions are back in style. They combine rustic charm with a more modern look to give any room warmth, texture, and a touch of luxury. Because they are long-lasting and have natural designs, cowhide cushions can be used in a lot of different home styles, from country-style to modern minimalist. This piece talks about why cowhide cushions are a must-have for your home decor and how you can use them in different rooms to give them a stylish, high-end look.

Top Home Décor Trend: Cowhide Cushions

For a classic look, cowhide pillows are known for their unique patterns and natural, earthy colors. Because they are made from real cowhide leather, each cushion is different and has its own mix of tones and textures. It used to be that cowhide pillows were only found in rustic or Western-style rooms, but now they're also popular in modern rooms. Because they add texture, warmth, and natural beauty, they make a subtle but striking focus point that goes with a lot of different design styles.

What's great about cowhide pillows is that they can be used in many different ways. They go well with wood, metal, and soft fabrics, among other things, and add contrast and depth to the look. Cowhide pillows give a room personality without taking over, whether you're going for an industrial look or a cozy, rustic feel.

Benefits of Cowhide Cushions

Unique Patterns and Textures

People love cowhide pillows because each one has its own unique natural patterns and textures. Because the colors range from soft whites and browns to strong black-and-white contrasts, you should be able to find a cowhide cushion that goes with the rest of your furniture. You can also mix and match the cushions to create a curated, layered look thanks to the different designs.

Strength and Longevity

Cowhide is known for being strong, which makes it a good choice for homes with lots of foot traffic, kids, or pets. pillows made of cowhide don't get scratches or stains easily like pillows made of synthetic materials do. Because they are strong, they will keep their beauty and shape over time, even if they are used a lot.

Easy to Maintain

In spite of what you might think, cowhide pillows don't need much care. They can be kept clean by dusting them every once in a while or using a soft cleaner. In most cases, a quick wipe down with a wet cloth will fix any spills. Because they don't need much care, cowhide pillows are a great choice for homes with lots of activity.

Eco-Friendly Choice

Many cowhide goods are made from scraps from the meat industry, which makes them a more environmentally friendly choice than synthetic ones. If you buy cowhide cushions, you're supporting a natural, eco-friendly material that looks good and doesn't hurt the earth as much.

How to Add Cowhide Cushions to Your Room

Living Room

Plush and rustic, cowhide cushions look great in any sitting room. For a stylish, understated look, put them on top of a neutral couch. For a more interesting arrangement, add more textured cushions on top of them. A big leather cushion or two with different patterns can give a room depth and visual interest. They're also great for making a statement.

Bedroom

Plush cowhide pillows look great in the bedroom too, making the room feel warm and cozy. Cowhide pillows add a natural touch to a room when put on top of a bedspread or with other artistic pillows. Their soft, earthy colors can be a nice contrast to bright, modern furniture or help make a cabin-like, rustic feel.

Office or Reading Spot

There is no better way to add a touch of luxury to a home office or reading nook than with a leather cushion. When paired with a leather chair or a wooden center piece, a cowhide cushion can make the room look stylish and comfortable at the same time.

Places to Relax Outside

If your outdoor space is covered, you might want to add cowhide pillows for a stylish touch that is also good for the outdoors. Because they last a long time, they can be used in these places as long as they are kept out of the weather.

Style Tips for Cowhide Cushions

Here are some things you can do to get the most out of your leather cushions:

Mix Patterns and Sizes: Use cowhide pillows with a range of patterns and sizes to make the room look more interesting. Putting these chairs on top of each other can give your room more depth and personality.

Pair with Natural Materials: Wood, wool, flax, and cowhide are all natural materials that look great with cowhide. Adding other natural textures to leather makes your decor feel cozier and more rustic.

Accept Contrast: To add contrast to softer, lighter-colored furniture, use cowhide pillows. Putting the cushion and the furniture together in this way can make both of them stand out, giving your room more depth.

Why Should You Buy Cowhide Cushions?

Cowhide pillows aren't just a trendy addition; they're a classic way to add style and quality to your home. They are durable, easy to care for, and have a unique, natural beauty that makes them a good addition to any house. With their ability to make a room look better without taking over, cowhide pillows are a trendy addition that goes with almost any style of decor.

Furthermore, cowhide cushions are the right mix of class and country charm, which makes them a great addition to both modern and traditional homes. Cowhide cushions are a stylish choice that will last for a long time. They can be used to make a statement or add a soft, earthy touch.

[leather-products-aclmarts]

The Ultimate Leather Products List: Discover Genuine Leather Products

Leather has been synonymous with luxury, durability, and timeless style for centuries. From fashion accessories to furniture, genuine leather products are a top choice for those who value quality. If you're looking to explore the world of leather, this article offers a comprehensive leather products list featuring a variety of genuine leather items that can elevate your lifestyle.

1. Leather Bags

Tote Bags: Perfect for everyday use, tote bags made from genuine leather are stylish and durable.

Messenger Bags: Ideal for professionals and students, leather messenger bags combine utility with elegance.

Backpacks: Leather backpacks offer a fashionable alternative to traditional materials and are built to last.

Clutches: For special occasions, leather clutches provide a chic, minimalist accessory.

2. Leather Jackets

A wardrobe staple for both men and women, leather jackets come in various styles like bomber, biker, and aviator. Genuine leather jackets are not only stylish but also provide excellent protection against the elements.

3. Leather Footwear

Boots: Leather boots are a must-have for their rugged design and ability to withstand harsh conditions.

Loafers: Leather loafers offer a sleek look for casual and formal settings.

Sandals: Genuine leather sandals provide comfort, breathability, and durability.

4. Leather Belts

A high-quality leather belt can elevate any outfit. Whether it’s a classic black or brown leather belt for formal wear or a braided leather belt for casual attire, the durability of leather ensures it remains a wardrobe essential for years.

5. Leather Wallets

Leather wallets are an ideal mix of functionality and style. From bi-folds to cardholders, they offer a polished look while securely holding your essentials.

6. Leather Furniture

Sofas: Genuine leather sofas are not only comfortable but also incredibly stylish, adding a touch of luxury to any living space.

Chairs: Leather chairs, especially in home offices, offer a combination of comfort and professionalism.

Ottomans: A leather ottoman adds an element of elegance and practicality to your living room.

7. Leather Accessories

Leather Phone Cases: Protect your devices in style with genuine leather phone cases that are durable and sleek.

Leather Watch Straps: A leather watch strap gives your timepiece a timeless and sophisticated appearance.

Leather Keychains: Small but significant, leather keychains are durable and add a touch of class to everyday items.

8. Leather Notebooks and Journals

Genuine leather-bound notebooks and journals provide a luxurious writing experience. They are ideal for professionals, students, or anyone who loves the feel of high-quality materials when jotting down their thoughts.

9. Leather Gloves

Leather gloves are a must-have for colder months, offering warmth while maintaining style. Whether driving or dressing up for winter, they add a level of sophistication and comfort.

10. Leather Car Interiors

From leather seats to steering wheel covers, genuine leather enhances the luxury feel of a vehicle. Leather car interiors not only improve comfort but also increase the overall value of the car.

Why Choose Genuine Leather Products?

Genuine leather products are crafted from natural materials that undergo a tanning process, making them more durable, breathable, and long-lasting than synthetic alternatives. They develop a unique patina over time, which adds to their charm and individuality. Investing in genuine leather products ensures you enjoy luxury, comfort, and longevity, all while making a style statement.

Conclusion

Whether you’re in the market for a new leather bag or considering upgrading your furniture, the above leather products list offers something for everyone. Genuine leather products are not only timeless in style but also highly durable, making them worth every penny. As you shop for leather items, always ensure you're purchasing genuine leather to enjoy the full benefits of this premium material.

To know more about the leather products list, or Genuine leather products We recommend you to visit the Attree Leather-products, as it is the best genuine leather products.

[upholsteryworks]

Furniture Upholstery Repair and Leather Chair Upholstery

Furniture plays a crucial role in enhancing the comfort and appearance of any space. Over time, even the highest quality furniture can show signs of wear, and that’s where furniture upholstery repair becomes essential. Whether it’s a beloved sofa or a leather chair, professional upholstery services can restore your pieces to their former glory, offering both durability and style.

Why Choose Furniture Upholstery Repair?

Investing in furniture upholstery repair is a cost-effective way to extend the life of your furniture. Instead of replacing worn-out items, repair services allow you to refresh and revitalize your existing pieces. Whether you have fabric or leather upholstery, repair services can address issues like torn fabric, faded colors, and sagging cushions. This not only saves you money but also preserves the sentimental value of your furniture.

Additionally, repairing your furniture contributes to sustainability by reducing waste. By opting for upholstery repair, you are making an environmentally conscious decision that benefits both your wallet and the planet.

Leather Chair Upholstery: A Timeless Upgrade

Leather chair upholstery is a popular choice for both homes and offices due to its timeless appeal and durability. Leather offers a luxurious feel and is highly resistant to wear, making it a great investment for long-lasting comfort. However, even leather chairs can experience wear and tear over time, including cracks, scratches, or faded spots.

Professional leather chair upholstery services can repair these issues, restoring the beauty and longevity of your chairs. Whether it’s a complete reupholstering job or minor repairs, expert services ensure your leather furniture maintains its premium look for years to come.

Benefits of Professional Upholstery Services

Choosing professional furniture upholstery repair ensures that your furniture is in capable hands. Expert craftsmen can match fabrics, restore structural integrity, and provide custom upholstery solutions tailored to your style preferences. In the case of leather chair upholstery, specialists use high-quality leather materials and repair techniques to bring your furniture back to life.

In Dubai’s fast-paced lifestyle, convenience is key. Many upholstery services now offer online consultations, making it easy to request quotes and select materials from the comfort of your home. This level of service ensures a hassle-free experience, whether you're repairing a single chair or reupholstering an entire living room set.

In conclusion, whether you need furniture upholstery repair or are looking to restore your leather chair upholstery, these services provide a practical and stylish solution. With the right professionals, your furniture can look and feel brand new again, adding both value and comfort to your space.

[umaraniarun]

The Ultimate Guide to Buying Office Chairs Online in the UAE:

Creating a comfortable and productive workspace starts with the right office chair. In the UAE, where business and remote work environments are constantly evolving, the demand for ergonomic and stylish office chairs is on the rise. The convenience of online shopping has made it easier than ever to find the perfect chair to meet your needs. This guide will help you navigate the process of buy office chair online in UAE, ensuring you make an informed and satisfying purchase.

Why Buy an Office Chair Online?

Convenience: Shopping online allows you to browse and purchase from the comfort of your home or office, eliminating the need to visit multiple physical stores.

Wide Selection: Online platforms offer a vast range of office chairs, from ergonomic to executive styles, catering to different needs and preferences.

Customer Reviews: Online shopping enables you to read customer reviews and ratings, providing valuable insights into the quality and performance of the chair.

Competitive Pricing: Online retailers often offer better prices and discounts compared to brick-and-mortar stores, along with seasonal sales and promotions.

Detailed Product Information: Comprehensive product descriptions, specifications, and images help you understand the features and benefits of each chair.

Key Features to Consider When Buying an Office Chair Online

Ergonomic Design: Look for chairs with ergonomic features such as lumbar support, adjustable seat height, and tilt mechanisms to ensure comfort and prevent strain during long hours of sitting.

Material: Consider the material of the chair. Mesh chairs provide breathability, while leather chairs offer a more luxurious feel.

Adjustability: Ensure the chair has adjustable armrests, backrests, and seat depth to customize the fit according to your body type and preferences.

Weight Capacity: Check the manufacturer’s specifications for the maximum weight capacity to ensure the chair can support you comfortably.

Swivel and Mobility: A chair with a swivel base and smooth-rolling casters allows for easy movement and accessibility within your workspace.

Steps to Buying an Office Chair Online in the UAE

Identify Your Needs: Determine the type of chair you need based on your work habits and preferences. Are you looking for an ergonomic chair for long hours or an executive chair for a more formal setting?

Set a Budget: Establish a budget to narrow down your options and avoid overspending.

Research Online Retailers: Look for reputable online retailers in the UAE with good reviews and customer service. Popular sites include Amazon. ae, IKEA UAE, and specialized furniture stores like Napoli Furniture.

Read Reviews and Ratings: Pay attention to customer reviews and ratings to gauge the quality and performance of the chair.

Compare Products: Use comparison tools to evaluate different chairs based on features, prices, and reviews.

Check Return Policies: Ensure the retailer has a flexible return policy in case the chair doesn’t meet your expectations.

Place Your Order: Once you’ve made your choice, proceed to checkout. Double-check the delivery address and payment details.

Track Your Delivery: Most online stores provide tracking information. Monitor your order to know when to expect your new chair.

Why Choose Napoli Furniture for Your Office Chair?

Napoli Furniture has been a trusted name in the UAE for high-quality office furniture since 1985. Here’s why you should consider buying your office chair from Napoli Furniture:

Extensive Range: We offer a wide variety of office chairs, from ergonomic designs to executive models, ensuring something for everyone.

Quality Assurance: Our chairs are crafted from premium materials, guaranteeing durability and comfort.

Competitive Prices: Enjoy attractive prices and discounts on a range of office chairs.

Expert Advice: Our team of professionals is available to guide you in choosing the perfect chair for your needs.

Reliable Delivery: We ensure timely and secure delivery of your purchase.

Conclusion

Buy office chair online in UAE is a convenient and efficient way to enhance your workspace. By considering ergonomic features, material, adjustability, and reviews, you can find a chair that suits your needs and preferences. At Napoli Furniture, we are committed to providing high-quality office chairs that combine comfort, style, and functionality. Visit our website today to explore our extensive collection and make an informed choice for your office.

Experience the ease and convenience of buying office chairs online with Napoli Furniture – where comfort meets quality!

[my3dartblog]

The MHE Collection strives to bring a classic look and feel in a variety of materials for you to be able to customize the furniture to your scene and your tastes! Each set also comes with some unique plants that one can use to create a lush, relaxing environment for your characters to live in. This pack contains a leather-paneled standing desk in multiple options with pieces that can be removed to expose its casings and a hidden, integrated power bar. The plush office chair is both comfortable and elegant with the chair wheels each having their own pivot point. The calathea orbifolia's stunning leaves help liven the set comes in three different-sized pots. The filing cabinet and shelves match the desk's aesthetic to create a cohesive look and a decorative object as well as two dozen books, 12 leatherbound, and 12 paperbacks, are available to litter your shelves with. To get you started on using the office, a laptop comes with the set as well The set was made with detail in mind, to sell the realism. The desk is made of multiple pieces that fit together seamlessly, combining fabric and wood. Once the standing desk is fully raised, the wood grain is revealed on the legs as well. The shelves themselves are modular, allowing you to change the setup, remove shelves, or add more. The office chair comes with mobile wheels and a detailed frame. The plant pots can be removed from their legs to create a completely different look and come with four varieties of dirt and rocks, wet and dry for multiple scenarios! Finally, most props come with several material zones to allow you to replace and customize each prop as much as possible using your own materials or shaders! What's Included and Features Modern Home Essentials Pack 02: (.DUF) Scene Subsets: MHE02 Desk Drawer Left MHE02 Desk Drawer Right MHE02 Desk No Drawer MHE02 Hardcover Collection MHE02 Paperback Collection MHE02 Shelves Full Zero Props: MHE02 Book Hardcover MHE02 Book Paperback MHE02 Deco B MHE02 Desk MHE02 Filing Cabinet MHE02 Lamp A MHE02 Lamp B MHE02 Laptop MHE02 Office Chair MHE02 Plant Large MHE02 Plant Medium MHE02 Plant Small MHE02 Shelf A MHE02 Shelf B Materials: MAT Book Var01 MAT Book Var02 MAT Book Var03 MAT Book Var04 MAT Book Var05 MAT Book Var06 MAT Book Var07 MAT Book Var08 MAT Book Var09 MAT Book Var10 MAT Book Var11 MAT Book Var12 MAT Deco B Var1 MAT Deco B Var2 MAT Deco B Var3 MAT Deco B Var4 MAT Desk Var1 MAT Desk Var2 MAT Desk Var3 MAT Desk Var4 MAT Filing Cabinet Var1 MAT Filing Cabinet Var2 MAT Filing Cabinet Var3 MAT Filing Cabinet Var4 MAT Lamps Var1 MAT Lamps Var2 MAT Lamps Var3 MAT Lamps Var4 MAT Laptop Var1 MAT Laptop Var2 MAT Laptop Var3 MAT Laptop Var4 MAT Office Chair Var1 MAT Office Chair Var2 MAT Office Chair Var3 MAT Office Chair Var4 MAT Plant Large Var1 MAT Plant Large Var2 MAT Plant Large Var3 MAT Plant Large Var4 MAT Plant Medium Var1 MAT Plant Medium Var2 MAT Plant Medium Var3 MAT Plant Medium Var4 MAT Plant Small Var1 MAT Plant Small Var2 MAT Plant Small Var3 MAT Plant Small Var4 MAT Shelf A Var1 MAT Shelf A Var2 MAT Shelf A Var3 MAT Shelf A Var4 MAT Shelf B Var1 MAT Shelf B Var2 MAT Shelf B Var3 MAT Shelf B Var4 Textures Include: 150 Texture, Metallic, Height, Normal, Roughness, Emissive, and Opacity Maps (8192 x 8192) Daz Studio Iray Material Presets (.DUF) Compatible Software: Daz Studio 4.22 Install Types: DazCentral, Daz Connect, DIM, Manual Install Coming soon: https://3d-stuff.net/ #daz3d #dazstudio #3drender #3dart #daz3dstudio #irayrender #3dartwork #blender #blenderrender #blenderart #noaiart #noaiwriting #noai https://3d-stuff.net/

[bloghub47]

Connect with Suppliers and Buyers on the Leading B2B Portal in UAE

Welcome to Tradersfind - the largest online B2B marketplace and B2B portal connecting buyers and sellers across the United Arab Emirates. With over 5,000 registered companies and 100,000+ products listed, we are the premier platform facilitating B2B trade locally and globally.

Overview of Our Powerful B2B Portal

Tradersfind serves as a comprehensive UAE B2B marketplace, allowing businesses to showcase their company profiles, product catalogs, and services to a targeted audience. Our easy-to-use interface and powerful search make it simple for buyers to find and connect with relevant manufacturers, exporters, distributors, wholesalers, and other trade partners.

Businesses across all industries leverage our platform to expand their reach and transactions. Here are some benefits of our online B2B portal:

Exposure to thousands of verified importers, exporters, and trade professionals

Promote your business globally with detailed company and product listings

Fast and effective lead generation and new business partnerships

Optimize brand visibility with banner ads and sponsored posts

Expanded trade connections through B2B e-commerce transactions

Robust search and discovery tools to find ideal suppliers or buyers

As the largest B2B portal in UAE, we provide the tools and exposure to grow your business in local and global markets.

Connecting Buyers and Suppliers Through Our Marketplace

The foundation of any successful B2B marketplace UAE is an engaged community of buyers and sellers actively networking and doing business. That's why Tradersfind focuses on making connections seamless.

As a seller, it's easy to create a detailed company profile showcasing your business, areas of expertise, capabilities, achievements, and products/services offered. You can also upload digital catalogs, images, videos, brochures, case studies, testimonials, and other relevant collateral. Buyers can review this information to determine if you meet their procurement needs.

For buyers, our powerful search and discovery features allow you to find suppliers based on keyword, location, certifications, company info, credit terms, trade capacity, and more. Save your favorite partners and products to easily revisit listings later. Contact forms also make it simple to reach out with any questions before getting quotes or placing orders.

Once buyers find relevant sellers, transactions can take place directly through contact forms, phone, email, or our integrated B2B e-commerce platform. We facilitate the connections while you grow your business on your terms.

Insights into Key B2B Industry Sectors

Tradersfind hosts suppliers and buyers across all major industries. Here is a preview of some of our top B2B categories:

Manufacturing Partners

Connect with factories and manufacturers to source raw materials or OEM products made to your specifications. Subcategories include:

Auto & Transportation

Chemicals, Plastics & Rubbers

Construction & Decoration

Electrical & Electronics

Machinery & Industrial Plants

Packaging Materials

Textiles and Leathers

Importers & Exporters

We make global trade easy by connecting you to established import/export companies in 190+ countries. List and find partners in subcategories like:

Agricultural Products

Automobiles & Parts

Chemical and Pharma Products

Consumer Electronics

Furniture & Home Appliances

Garments, Textiles & Accessories

Gifts & Crafts

Wholesalers & Distributors

Our B2B portal links buyers looking for bulk quantity and exclusive deals with major wholesale suppliers and authorized distributors across industries including:

Food & Beverages

Health & Beauty Products

Home Supplies & Consumer Goods

Industrial Parts and Equipment

Office Solutions and Technology

Packaging Materials

Restaurant Equipment & Supplies

Service Providers

Beyond manufacturing and physical products, Tradersfind also connects you to service-based companies offering solutions like:

Business Consulting

Digital Marketing

Financing & Investments

Logistics & Transportation

Recruitment Solutions

Travel and Hospitality

and more!

Unmatched Quality and Support

What sets Tradersfind apart as the top UAE B2B portal is our commitment to connecting our members with only the highest quality trade partners. Suppliers undergo vetting and verification checks before being approved. We also have dedicated customer support teams ready to assist buyers and sellers using the platform.

Some key benefits include:

Verified Sellers - Companies are vetted for authenticity and trade merit

Product Quality Checks - Spot checks ensure accuracy of listings

Secure Payments - Guaranteed fraud checks for safe transactions

Marketing and Branding - Tailored solutions to promote your business

Expert Assistance - Support teams assist with onboarding, optimization, and growth

We invest heavily in quality assurance and customer satisfaction. Join thousands of active buyers and sellers seeing real results after partnering with Tradersfind.

Join the Leading B2B Marketplace UAE Today!

If you are a business looking to expand your trade connections, there is no better solution than Tradersfind. Let us help you showcase your business, make meaningful connections with buyers or suppliers, facilitate mutually beneficial transactions, and take your business growth to the next level.

Sign up today or explore supplier and buyer listings relevant to your business needs. We look forward to welcoming you!