#meeting tables Dubai

[interiorergonomics]

The Modern Meeting Tables to Elevate Dubai’s Executive Offices.

For a modern forward-thinking business currently operating in robust city like Dubai, brainstorming and negotiations are key to success. This all begins with both formal and informal conversations. These later become critical decisions, thus implemented as strategic plans. Yes, all this takes place in a dedicated environment that’s well-equipped with the best boardroom meeting table. Just like…

[iconicofficeblog]

Elevate Your Workspace: The Magic of Personalized Office Furniture in Dubai

In the vibrant city of Dubai, where business meets luxury, creating an office space that reflects your company's identity and boosts productivity is key. One of the most effective ways to achieve this is through personalized office furniture online in Dubai. Let's dive into the world of customized executive desks, chairs, lounge furniture, Meeting Table, Face to Face Workstation and storage solutions and discover how they can transform your workspace into a haven of creativity and efficiency.

Tailored to Perfection: Bespoke Furniture Design Services in Dubai

Bespoke furniture design services in Dubai offer a world of possibilities when it comes to creating furniture that perfectly aligns with your business needs and preferences. From selecting the finest materials to choosing unique designs, these services allow you to tailor every aspect of your office furniture to suit your style and functionality requirements.

Crafting Your Ideal Desk: Customization Options for Desks in Dubai

When it comes to desks, customization is key to creating a workspace that enhances productivity. In Dubai, you can choose from a variety of customization options such as size, shape, materials, and additional features like built-in cable management and storage solutions. Whether you prefer a sleek modern desk or a more traditional design, personalized desks ensure comfort and functionality.

Comfort Meets Style: Personalized Chairs for Dubai Offices

Comfortable seating is essential for long hours of work, and personalized chairs offer the perfect solution. In Dubai, you can customize everything from chair dimensions and ergonomic features to upholstery and color schemes. Say goodbye to uncomfortable seating and hello to chairs that support your posture and style preferences.

Customizing your office furniture and carpets in Dubai offers a myriad of benefits, from improved functionality and aesthetics to enhanced productivity and morale. By harnessing the power of personalized design, you can create a workspace that inspires creativity, fosters collaboration, and reflects your unique brand identity. So why settle for standard when you can customize and elevate your office space to new heights? Start exploring personalized furniture options and office carpets in Dubai today, and transform your workspace into a thriving hub of success and innovation.

[officemaster-ae]

Simple Office Furniture Tricks for Finding the Deals

There are many different ways that you can decorate your office. You can pick a particular type of furniture and choose your furnishings based on that, or you can have furniture that is a mix of styles, shapes, and color schemes. Some styles of furniture are more expensive than others, and it might be cheaper for you to pick a style that is less expensive.

A common type of office furniture seen in many offices consists of dark heavy wood. This type of furniture usually features heavy L-shaped desks with hutches, matching bookcases, long reception desks, and bulky workstations. The look is very elegant and expensive. However, if you would like to purchase office furniture that is not going to make you broke, you might consider a more modern design.

Modern designs include a plain and simple approach. This is where a desk is just a desk and a chair is just a chair, there are no fancy bells and whistles. The beauty of having simple designs is that you can save money on buying the products. Because the parts are usually less and the material less expensive, it is often a more economical way to buy furniture.

If you're looking to buy cheap office furniture you can always check out used office furniture stores. And when you're looking in the used stores, take note of the modern and simple designs because chances are they will be even less expensive than the huge wooden desks. Keeping your office furniture simple is a neat way to save money on decorating your office space.

The internet is a great tool for finding bargains. You can search out some nifty online stores that also feature pictures of their products. You can find sources that make material that is cheaper than other materials and in turn, cost less to sell.

Buying right from the furniture manufacture is another excellent way to buy inexpensive furniture. Especially if you buy in bulk quantities, you will be sure to save money. When you purchase office furniture from a store you are also paying the store their share of the profit.

You can also search out for office spaces that are closing, going bankrupt or simply moving, and look for great rates on buying their used furniture. If it is a private sale, you might have a better chance of talking down the price or offering a small lump sum for an entire load of office furniture.

Adding new office furniture to your office space can be a fun and rewarding experience. You will ultimately pick the style, color, and design of the furniture you are buying. And if you shop well and end up with some trendy cheap pieces then you will be more than happy. All it takes is some nifty shopping tricks and lots of patience as you shop around for the best deals and products for you. Remember that timing is everything, so you might have to keep checking the internet for deals or keep looking in the paper for used office furniture sales. It may take some time, but in the end, will be worth the wait.

Get the latest updates on modern office furniture, Meeting Tables, office chairs, office desks, Office Workstations, Office Sofas, Filling Cabinets, and Reception Desks in Dubai, for detailed office furniture, please visit our website officemaster.ae

Office Furniture Abu Dhabi, Office Furniture Sharjah, Office Furniture Doha – Qatar, Office Furniture Kuwait, Office Furniture Riyadh, Office Furniture Oman

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[designcraftt]

Office Meeting Table Dubai | Designcraft.ae

Designcraft.ae offers the best office meeting tables in Dubai. Our tables are designed to create a sense of connection and collaboration in the workplace, allowing your team to work together with ease. Get the perfect table for your office today!

[mrfurnitureae]

Let's get creative with our customized meeting tables.

Book a free design consultation session now. ✅ 2 Showrooms in Dubai ✅ Overseas Presence ✅ 780+ Concepts Designed ✅ 4500+ Projects ✅ 10+ Years in UAE . . Get an instant quote now. 📞 : 055-552-2613 📧 : inquiry@mrfurniture.ae 🌐 : www.mrfurniture.ae

[gallierhouse]

Armand really likes playing with dolls. He throws Lestat around like a rag doll when he meets him, he ties people to his slab and sets them on fire. The theatre is his dollhouse, and all the cast and crew are his little toys he puppets (he literally does, when he makes them all pass out at the dinner table and when he manhandles Santiago and Claudia), and he directs their little plays and dresses them up in little costumes and has them act out his fun little fantasies every night (“no pain,” Claudia falling out of a window and dying, etc.). He even sets their bedtime. Then he’s got his morgue, where he keeps all the parts he doesn’t feel like playing with anymore. Still organized, still catalogued, still clearly owned by him. In little boxes with their names written on them. In San Francisco he buys houses and fixes the slanting floors and flips them for profit. He rips newspaper off the windows to let the light in when he’s arguing with Louis. Then he restricts Louis’ movement and leaves him immobile and in pain on a bed instead of feeding him or putting him in his coffin. He cuts the strings of his favorite marionette. You see it in how he feeds Louis. He drips his blood into Louis’ mouth and then removes his wrist once he decides Louis has had enough. Then he puppets and contorts Daniel’s body for his own amusement, and then he sets Daniel in front of the television and leaves it on like he’s babysitting a child, and then he gently cleans up Daniel’s wounds and holds him like a child and convinces him he wants to die. In Dubai he controls all the windows in the penthouse, and he’s made some interesting decisions about their wardrobe (it’s all black athleisure, unless Armand’s wearing a dress shirt). The shelves are out of Louis’ reach, the only one ever shown leaving the apartment is Armand. He sells their paintings. He’s planted his magnolia in the zen garden he built for Louis. It’s literally his dollhouse he keeps his favorite doll in. Their bedroom is made of bars. He’s wiped some of Louis’ memories, he’s put Fred Steins in with Louis’ photos. I think Armand conceptualizes all of this as servitude, things he does for someone else’s benefit at the expense of himself because he’s dutiful and self-sacrificial, and I think there is some truth to that, but on another level, he really enjoys playing with dolls. He’d probably be better off if he started playing the Sims or something. He’s such a little perfectionist with a control freak streak. He’s actually very easy to please. As long as everything goes his way 24/7, 365, without failure or exception, he’s happy.

[m0chisenpai]

Hey 👋 Can you do a Louis fic where after he and Armand break up, he doesn’t get back with Lestat and moves on or tries for a better healthier relationship with her/reader?

seal the cracks

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader

in which Louis begins to fill the neglected cracks of his relationships

As Louis stares into the crack of the wall, he find your eyes in the debri. he sees the same brokeness as the eyes that stared at him. Broken and beautiful.

Not even Armand's words could convince you to say after the carnage that Louis caused.

He needed to find you. He needed to apologize.

His eyes fall shut and his mind opens to the voices.

"This is the vampire Louis De Pointe Du Lac, searching for the vampire Y/N L/N."

Conversation contiues to overlap, until one voice alls to him. It is hoarse, "she is a ghost. By night she comes out, slaughtering dozens. Then she seals herself away till the hunger can not be bared ny longer."

"No!" a feminine voice hisses, "she fled to Russia! There is a coven there that speaks of her briefly."

More rumors fill him with dead end leads til he hisses, "enough." silencing the voics he sits on the couch. Elbows on his knees, hands in his face.

You could be anywhere. you could be dead. That thought makes ice fill his veins. But one of his workers tell him his ride is here. Ready to take him to the meeting place.

When Louis steps out of the car, he is met with the owner, happily telling him of all his establishment has to offer. But it’s like a fly in his ear as he enters the elevator. Twenty floors felt like a lifetime until he reaches the rooftop which would be filled any other night. But thanks to his financial pull, it is completely empty. Save for the one body sitting at a seatette overlooking the city.

Your body is still, and Louis takes his time to approach slowly, he sees the gleam off your bare shoulders. Admires how the olive little cocktail dress accentuates your body. What should he say? He can feel the rage, the grief. All of the dark murkyfeelings roll over him. As much as you hate him, he is your maker. And he feels you deeply and completely.

He dares to take the seat beside you, giving you the space you deserve. Your head moves just enough to look him in the eye. Your eyes are gray, nearly so light you looked like your eyes were blank white. But the faint streaks of blue make them pop.

“Hello.”

Louis echoes back, “hello.”

“I trust the flight here went well?”

“It did,” you experienced first class in all its beauty and comforts. Not the first time, but from the moment you left your home to landing in Dubai every little thing was covered for you. At first in your pettiness you intended to waste every bit of his money.

Buying obscene five star meals that you tossed. Glasses of champagne, an entire new wardrobe. You waited for him to chew you out as he did all those years ago. But not once did he respond.

“I want to talk about San Francisco.”

��Ah yes,” you pick up a golden case, pulling a cigarette out to settle between your lips. “Do you mind?” He shakes his head. Focusing on the cigarette and it flickers a little. You take a slow drag, tilting your head to blow it into the night air.

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

You look to him, “always have. You just never noticed.”

Louis can recall the first time he and Armand met you. You were a bartender in the city trying to make ends meet to make it to New York. You wanted to perform on the big stage. But until then you were stuck mopping puke, taking tips stuffed in your bra and ignoring the perverted glances of customers.

When the two men sat down, they ordered two shots on the rocks which they barely touched throughout the night. Sticking to their cigarettes instead.

“You work here long?” Louis asked as you wiped along the table top.

“Started three months ago.”

“Long term?”

“Hardly, Next year you’re gonna see my name up in big lights in the city,” your smile was giddy. It stirred something in him. Armand hatred how easily you could pull such a smile.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed sir, though I need to start workin' on my accent" Louis feigns surprise. But truth is he could hear the southern twang in your voice the moment he entered.

"What brings a southern girl like you up here?"

"Well, I would have to tell you another night." A drunk waves you down stealing you away from Louis.

A crisp twenty brightens your night beneath his cup. And he and Armand kill the man who took your attention.

Every evening he comes to sit in that same spot, some times with the brooding partner of his, others without him. Some nights he's philosophical, others he's cynical. There are nights where he never utters a word. Just his eyes following your every movement.

You would become his second and final fledgling that following year. Your final night of humanity was spent in New York Armand accepted it, but even though he was hundreds of years older, wiser. The boyish desires to have ones things all to themself remained.

That night Louis took you to a Broadway production, putting you in the best box seats. Though he promised you for the rest of your days you could sit here, you declared tonight to be the very best.

Following afterwards you ate your final meal. Soul food from an old mom and pop shop and half glass of champagne which led you to where you sat now. He held you in his arms one final time.

"Will this truly be the last time you hear my mind?" your voice is hoarse from the silence as you soaked in your final sunrise.

"It is," he sees every memory one last time. He relishes in those big brown eyes, that gap in your teeth, the freckles from being out in the sun all day. He remembers that day so well, and you replay in your mind, wondering if days like that will ever return.

When the sun has completely gone and all that is left is the inky blackness of the night, something in Louis eyes tells you, "it' time."

You wonder what his final thoughts are. aHe wishes he were stronger, because he would project them to you. so instead he bgins to tell you. "I'm thinkin' about you. How I'm gonna miss the way your hert skips a beat at your favorite song, how you ear them bright sweaters int hat grungy bar...."

He empties his entire mind, his entire heart to you. Not even Armand had this kind of access to Louis. At midnight, you give him one last kiss as a human, and make love with him for the final time as well. And by the next nightfall you wake up something new, something beautifully cursed to stalk the night by his side.

Nightmares and terrors filly our nights. All from Armand. Only he would have lived enough to see such grotesque horrors. You see boys packed together on a boat weeping covered in their filth and sitting in their own sick.

Another night you are doused in rats and sealed shut in a coffin unable to scream as the giant rodents work to eat you apart in this giant tin box.

But the worst ones are the ones of those who are set on fire. Lying across a pyre and burnt slowly to a chard crisp. At first Louis brushes your worries aside, holding you in his arms in his coffin. But then Louis starts entering your dreams, beaten and bruised fried from the sun in some theatre while an audences thundering laughs rattle you as they cackle at the bloody tears puring from your eyes.

That's when the fight happens.

as soona s you are awake you pounce on Armand and Louis has to pull you off from him, cursing and hissing.

"I know its you!! You monster!! Just cause he won't screw you anymore!!" You thrash at Armand who was tossing into a hole into the wall of the apartment you three reside in.

"What were you thinking?" Louis hisses at you holding you at arms length like some child.

"You're being reckless! Now we gota get the hell out fore' the neighbors start calling the cops!" He hisses rubbing his hand across his face.

"That's what your worried about? What about your boy keeping me up fpr nearly a fucking YEAR!" ypur screams rattle the walls and Louis is quick to clamp his hand over your mouth.

"You just haven't gptten used to the change yet," your eyes go wide. He was dfending him. The one who has been torturing you.

You nod stepping out his grasp.

"It's either me or him."

"Love..."

"Don't call me that," you stp up chest pressed aginst his and whisper once more, "it's either gon' be me, or him."

Silence fills the apartment. But te look in his eyess break your heart. You nod stoeming into your shared room. He and Armand handle the police that arrive, but when he goes back to your room it's emmpty and torn into pieces.

The memory ends there as you finish your cigarette which you stub out in front of you. You look into his eyes, see the pain, watch as a bloody tear slips down the curve of his nose.

"I should've picked you..." his voice is hoarse.

"I know."

"He...he just..."

"Was a rebound. For Lestat right? Out of spite. I figured, Daniel sent me an adanced reader," you read it ten times. It was lying on the night stand of your hotel room now. "Was I a rebound too?"

"No" Louis immediately shakes his hand. "I'm done makin' exscuses for myself. But I know for a fact I fell in love with you and all your singing and dancing till the sun rose and"

"You would tell me 'cher get in here before the sun burns you'" you finished wistfully.

"I came to every performance of yours. When you were in the background and then you got your first main role in rent and you glowed on stage." You remember that opening night, seeing him sitting in the front. His eyes never leaving you once, but not once did you return his gaze.

You hate how much you love him right now. How much you miss him, but he will always be your Louis. Your maker, your lover, your companion.

"If I return," hope for a moment glimmers in his eyes, "and he is there. I will set him and you on fire. And spread your ashes to the four corners of the earth."

"Anything for you my love" he goes to reach your hands which you quickly pull back pointing one finger up.

"And no more of that dull black and gray macarbe stuff. I need color in my life Louis. Stop living like the dead, for me. Please" You scoot closer, gazing up into his eyes.

His gaze warms your cold heaet, as he stares down at you like you've hung the very moon and stars.

"Of course, cher. For you."

[futfemfantasies]

Communication issues \\ alexia putellas x reader

As promised, the first fic from the poll. Next fic coming shortly… enjoy!! :)

You find out via Alba, Alexia’s sister. Thankfully, your family understands why you have to leave halfway through Christmas day in Australia. Alexia knew she needed surgery for her knee to figure out why it was still painful but the question is, when is the surgery going to happen. Apparently tomorrow, Spanish time, is when. With your bag packed and the farewells beginning, the departure back to Barcelona begins, a week earlier than planned. One of your sisters offered to drive you to the airport and made you promise to text her when you arrive, regardless of the time. With a quick hug as the Australian he becomes unbearable, the airport doors lead you to Spain. With Alba agreeing to pick you up, the long flight and stopovers begins. From Dubai, sleep immediately hit to like a brick.

Next thing you know, one of the flight attendants has woken you up for landing. Putting the seat up, the view at your window is breathtaking. The plane lands and you go through the process of getting off, customs and collecting luggage. Cold winter air greets you as you walk through the airport, making you regret a warmer hoodie. Spotting the younger Putellas sibling is easy in her vibrant clothing and you give her a tight hug before moving towards the car. You notice Eli sitting in the front when you move to the back. Greeting the older woman, she immediately apologises for Alexia's lack of communication.

"Don't apologise for Ale mama. She's an idiota for not telling her girlfriend when her surgery is, while her girlfriend is halfway around the world" Alba states, earning is hard slap on the arm from Eli.

You quickly text your sister and she replied with a thumbs up emoji, must be late back home you think. Alba pulls up to the hospital and you all move inside quickly as Alexia would've woken up not long ago. You pass by a gift shop and buy a bear and some flowers before seeing your girlfriend of 4 years. As you all go into Alexia's room, your eyes meet hers and Alexia gives you a soft smile. Eli and Alba give each other a look and decide to give you both a minute. You place the bear of flowers on the table and sit next to her on the chair.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you" Alexia apologises as she grabs your hand and kisses it.

"Why didn't you? You know I would've stayed with you"

"I know you missed your family and being home, I didn't want to ruin that for you" Alexia softly says, making you melt at the thought.

"Oh baby, you do know that wherever you are is home, right?" Alexia pulls you forward until your lips are on hers.

"Te amo princesa"

"Te amo mi amor. I think you owe my mum a Christmas since I left in the middle of lunch"

"Bebita you did not!" Alexia gasps and hits your arm lightly.

"My girl needed me" you shrug.

Alexia moves over in her bed and pats the spare space next to her, a silent way to tell you she wants cuddles. You cuddle up to Alexia in the small space and she kisses your forehead multiple times.

"Sleep baby, I'll make this up to you. I promise"

And Alexia keep her promises. Around 11 months later when family start organising Christmas, Alexia discussed with her mum that you need to go home and visit your family. After what happened last year, Alexia has to jump at the chance. She organised everything with your sisters and now the final part, telling you.

One cold morning, you roll over to be met with Alexia's sleeping form. She tightens her arm on you as you move closer to give her a kiss. Alexia slowly opens her eyes and smiles at the beauty she sees first thing in the morning.

"Good morning bebita, how you sleep?" Alexia asks sitting up slightly.

"Well since I'm next to you"

"I have a surprise for you. Wait here"

Alexia jumps out of bed, nearly tripping, and runs to your shared closet. She comes back with a smile on her face, extra spring in her step, and an envelope. Alexia wordlessly hands you the envelope and you open it to see printed plane tickets. You read the dates and location and your eyes start watering.

"Ale I - I told you last year in the hospital that I would make it up to you and I am"

You straddle Alexia's lap and kiss her passionately. You both pull away and you cup her cheeks, grazing them softly with the pads of your thumbs.

"I'm going to marry you one day" Alexia whispers, causing a wide smile on both of your faces.

"I want nothing more my love"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by alexiaputellas, stephcatley, samanthakerr20, albaps and 123,456 others

y/ny/l/n: a fairytale come true. the easiest yes I’ve ever made 😍💍 te amo mi amor. No puedo esperar por el próximo capítulo de nuestras vidas juntos ✨😘

Translation: (I love you my love. I can’t wait for the next chapter in our lives together)

view all 15,876 comments…

alexiaputellas: I love you princesa ❤️ let’s start our new chapter 🤩

↪️ y/ny/l/n: mi casa 🩷

samanthakerr20: oooooh Spanish wedding 😮‍💨

↪️ samanthakerr20: super excited for you dude, married life rules! 🤘

↪️↪️ y/ny/l/n: love you long time Sammy 🫶

stephcatley: @ caitlinfoord she’s all grown up 🥹😭😕

↪️ y/ny/l/n: im a year younger than you steffy, stfu 🙄

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

y/ny/l/n posted on their story

alexiaputellas posted on their story

[its-time-to-write]

please don’t be - ch. 1

for context! this takes place after season 3, and in my head Jamie plays one season with Richmond under Roy, then goes back to City to play for Pep bc let’s be real, he’s a Manchester boy at heart. so that’s what’s happening, that’s the timeline, this is def the most non-canonical thing I’ve written. it might be out of character. it might be self-indulgent. I don’t know, I would say I don’t care, except I do. enjoy.

table of contents be good to me

It’s Julia who reminds you, he’s the one who asked for your number. Because she has to remind you. Otherwise you’ll tear yourself to pieces thinking about how it’s all your fault. 

Oh, it was easy in the beginning. You meet Jamie Tartt of all people in a chicken shop of all places. Things like that don’t just happen. Except it did, and he smiled at you first, and you had a stupid, stupid thought that became a stupid, stupid reality. 

And Julia was there from the beginning, what with her raised eyebrows and frosty opinions. 

“Be so careful,” she warns. “He doesn’t understand that he doesn’t deserve you.”

You laugh and squeeze her arm as you slip out the door and into Jamie’s car. 

Because it’s fun and silly and he has exactly the right words all the time. Words about your eyes, your voice, your humor; words you know not to take seriously, but he says them with such sincerity that you allow yourself to believe them for a second. 

He says strange things too, things about meeting his mum and holidays in the far future where you’re on a beach with him or maybe in the stands or in a room that costs more than you make in a month. 

He says the word marriage on the third date and it’s not even in reference to the both of you, just to him. He wants it, someday, sooner than people think. You study the wall behind him and sip your water. It’s ice-cold, with just the right amount of lemon. You keep your thoughts on the matter to yourself. No sense in filling the air with meaningless words. Marriage is a conversation for another girl. Not you. 

No, you do your best to take it for what it is, although you’re slipping. 

It’s a fling, albeit long-term. You have incompatible schedules, never mind the way you bend your time to the breaking point just to see him for ten minutes. You have a career, bills to pay, people to fix; he has football, a team, and history to make. 

It’s a whirlwind of parties, matches, flights to Dubai, photographers, dresses, jewels. You know it’s a dream. You do. 

Still, it’s hard to think of it as such when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and tells you, “My mum really liked meeting you the other day.”

It doesn’t matter how many times he tells you you’re just going out, he’s not your boyfriend (as if you aren’t painfully aware). He’s acting as if it’s more. 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Julia says when you come home, confused and conflicted. “I don’t fault you for staying, but don’t forget you can leave whenever you’re ready.”

But you’re not ready. 

You’ll bend over backwards, put everything on the shelf if it means loving Jamie for half a minute. He’d never ask, no one ever does, because they always assume they know how you’ll respond. 

But they don’t. 

There’s a horrifying moment when you’re at some posh coffee shop, and you’re standing up to grab extra sweetener from the counter. Jamie grabs your wrist so gently to ask for a cup of water, but all you can see is the sweet expression on his face and an eyelash resting on his cheek. He’s smiling up at you and you brush away the eyelash with your free thumb, palm cupping his face. The air changes for a split second and you know.

You’re not making it out of this unscathed.

One of you will leave. It’s inevitable. It will not be you. 

It’s inevitable. 

So you hold his face for a beat too long before heading inside to compose yourself. You pretend not to notice the family with their cameras out. It’s a common occurrence, as common as footballers being seen with a girl who comes from another life and means nothing in the grand scheme of the Premier League. 

There are so many times you want to scream that there are bigger things than the Premier League. 

“I can fix him,” you tell Julia. “I get it. I understand his whole brain, how it works, what he thinks. I understand all of it. I can fix it.”

Julia sighs. “You’re not his therapist. It’s not your job, love.”

Still.

You do what you do best: love. 

It shows itself in the way you smooth out the knots in his forehead, his chest, his back. The way you smile that special, soft, just-for-Jamie smile. The way you listen extra carefully and joke and laugh when things are especially difficult. 

“I won’t change for you,” he says one day, early on, when you explain the panic you feel when he doesn’t speak to you for a week. 

“I’m not asking you to,” you say, voice steady despite the fact that your hands shake so hard you almost drop your tea. “I’m just explaining to you why I’m a bit strange today.”

Except he does change. His words- they don’t match his actions. 

I won’t change for you. 

Except you hear from him every day. 

I won’t change for you.

Except he makes time to see you. 

I won’t change for you. 

Except he’s inviting himself for tea with your family. 

I won’t change for you. 

You never asked him to. 

So why is it your fault?

“You knew I was moving back to Manchester at the end of the season,” he says accusingly, because you did know. You’re not asking him to stay, even now. 

You nod silently, letting as few tears streak down your face as possible. 

“What did you think was going to happen?” he asks. 

Nothing. You didn’t think anything was going to happen. 

You reply, “I didn’t expect anything to happen. I never pressured you. I never- I didn’t ask for any of this. Am I not allowed to be sad?”

There’s no point in telling him you’d move with him if he asked. Seven months together… it’s a long time. But it’s not forever, and it’s not long enough, apparently. 

Julia’s in the flat that night. She always seems to know which nights to be home and not out with her sickeningly perfect boyfriend. 

She doesn’t say anything, just hands you the box of takeout as you whisper, “I’m so tired of begging to be loved.”

It’s a cheap shot, you know that, but still. There’s plenty of love in your life. But the begging…

It’s silent, never leaving your lips. But it’s always screaming inside your head. 

Love me, love me, love me. I am making myself lovable for you. Love me. 

He knows not to text, not to call. You hear he’s in town and are relieved that you don’t hear from him. At least he knows enough to leave you alone. 

You’ll love someone for eternity, until they decide they don’t want it anymore. Once they decide, they’re not allowed back. They can’t come back. It wouldn’t be healthy. 

And fuck if you weren’t going to be healthy. 

table of contents

[squirrellypoo]

Ep8 "What Can The Damned Really Say To The Damned" rewatch thoughts (Part 2)

Here's my second set of things I noticed on my third rewatch! Part 1 is here if you missed it...

11. On Claudia's first visit to the forest, we can briefly see a red mark on one of the trees. When brightened up, it's clearly a handprint, in fresh blood. Edit: ah, it’s not blood but paint from the kids painting their hands and slapping trees to show how far they could go into the forest!

12. I totally missed that the BBC radio bulletin talks about looted art being loaded onto trucks to be taken back to Paris! So that’s how they knew to jump in a truck and be taken all the way there rather than just random hitch-hiking.

13. Morgan mentions that Louis's photo of Grace was printed onto albumen, by a glass-plate camera, and I was intrigued by this and wanted to learn more. If you're also interested, have a read of this Wikipedia article.

14. I thought I must've been missing some sort of reference in Daniel's “Maybe you’re just frosting the pie?” line (about Louis remembering Claudia dreaming), but Google has no evidence this is a saying? So it looks like this was just a Daniel-ism? How odd.

15. Ohhhhh it's a factory they're all camping in! That makes sense, with the thick walls and boiler room, but I couldn't quite work out whether it was a church or meeting hall or what.

16. Claudia is singing the Anna Anna nursery rhyme that the children just taught her in order to lure the pissing soldier into the woods. Nice touch!

17. Both soldiers from the woods are in Daciana's castle. First we see one in the room that Louis and Claudia pass through before the one on the table by the fire that she calls “a burnt tray of bread”. Guess this first guy just dies after a while? Or maybe Louis and Claudia finish him off?

18. In the Dubai bedroom, there’s nothing on Armand’s bedside table (nothing!) but on Louis’s side there are so many well-thumbed books, cascading from the nightstand onto the floor…

19. The TdV programme is for “Des Cris Dans Les Ténèbres!” (Shrieks in the Darkness). I love that the actual item is in French, but the posters up all around Paris are in English, because Louis would’ve translated them into English and that’s how he remembered them! The details! 🤌

20. In the truck scene, Louis is still healing from Daciana’s attack. It made me wonder how long it would take to drive (pre-motorways!) from Romania to Paris. So I looked it up, and using modern roads, but avoiding motorways, it'd take 31hrs straight. But they’d have to break to sleep somewhere safe in the day, and many of the roads and bridges would likely have been bombed and required detours, so I think we can assume it'd take several days to get there. So if Louis still isn't healed by the time we see them outside Paris, he is one seriously malnourished vampire. 😔 The blood really was bad there!

And that's my list of weird things I noticed in the first episode! Part 1 is here if you missed it, and do let me know in the notes if there's any of these you missed, too!

[lh44girl]

“A Fateful Encounter in Dubai”

It was a warm morning in Dubai, and Lewis Hamilton was enjoying a quiet, low-key brunch at a cozy Egyptian restaurant with his friends and his beloved bulldog, Roscoe. Just days before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, he was savoring this rare moment of calm—a break from the flashing cameras and roaring crowds. The scent of cardamom coffee and spiced falafel filled the air, and laughter drifted through the open windows.

As they laughed and ate, Roscoe, usually as calm as his owner, suddenly perked up, his ears twitching, eyes fixed across the terrace. Without warning, he bounded up, surprising everyone, and trotted over to a nearby table. There sat a young woman, enjoying a simple breakfast, absorbed in her own world. Roscoe reached her, sat down at her feet, and looked up at her with a steadfast, almost knowing gaze, as if he’d been waiting to meet her all along.

Startled, the woman looked down at him, then broke into a gentle smile. She bent down, scratching him behind the ears, and Roscoe seemed delighted, his little tail wagging with pure joy.

Noticing the unusual scene, Lewis quickly got up and walked over, a little concerned. He knew that dogs weren’t always welcomed in some cultural contexts, especially among Muslims, who sometimes keep a respectful distance due to religious beliefs. As he approached, he saw the woman’s face light up as Roscoe continued to nuzzle her leg, refusing to leave her side.

“I’m so sorry,” Lewis said, chuckling nervously. “Roscoe doesn’t usually, well… he doesn’t usually take to people like this.”

The young woman looked up, her eyes bright with amusement. “It’s alright,” she replied, laughing. “I don’t mind , I love dogs. He’s really sweet.”

Lewis grinned, surprised but relieved. “He’s usually a great judge of character, so… you must be something special.”

She giggled, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Well, thank you, Roscoe. I guess I’m honored,” she said, giving Roscoe another affectionate pat.

Lewis was intrigued; something about her was magnetic, though it took him a moment to really take it in. Her laughter was light and genuine, her smile easy and warm. Her aura was calm but full of life, a quiet beauty that seemed effortlessly charming. Roscoe, typically indifferent to strangers, sat glued to her side, as if he’d found a long-lost friend.

“You’re not from here, are you?” Lewis asked, feeling a strange eagerness to keep the conversation going.

“No,” she said, a bit coyly. “I’m actually here visiting friends . I am living between London & Cairo but I’m originally from Egypt.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, nodding. “The Egyptian restaurant and all.” He gestured to her untouched coffee. “May I join you for a bit?”

She smiled, nodding. “Please do. I could use some company.”

As they talked, Lewis found himself more and more captivated. She was easygoing, intelligent, and had a warmth that felt different from the world he was used to. There was no need to impress her with his fame or his trophies—she seemed genuinely interested in who he was, not what he was known for.

Roscoe remained beside her, happily lounging at her feet, his eyes content and half-closed. For Lewis, it was a sign, something beyond coincidence. He’d always trusted Roscoe’s instincts, and the little bulldog’s approval felt like fate nudging him forward.

As they laughed and shared stories, Lewis found himself thinking that this wasn’t just a random encounter. Maybe, just maybe, he’d stumbled upon someone who was more than a fleeting moment. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d met someone truly rare—a woman with a kind, open heart, someone who, like Roscoe, seemed to recognize the good in him right from the start.

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[officemaster-ae]

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[sunny44]

Date night

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: nothing.

Summary: Y/n and Lewis have their monthly date night.

Ps: sorry for the short story

Lewis and I had been together for 4 years and I have nothing to complain about.

He is the most perfect man I’ve ever met in my entire life.

The kisses all over my face every morning when we were together, the hugs from behind that make me feel at home, the single flower that he gave me every day that I press in a book and am putting in a frame, the times that at a family lunch when he is talking to my parents he passes by me and gives me a kiss on the forehead just to show that even if we are apart at that moment he is still paying attention and taking care of me.

And that's why every month we had a special date, we picked a day when we were both together and we went out to enjoy each other's company.

This was the last weekend of the race, we were in Dubai and it would be our last date of the year. I had chosen a green dress that looked like Tinker bell's, I had found it some time ago and decided to leave it for our last meeting of the year.

The podium today was Lewis, Charles and Max and with this last victory Lewis became 8 times Formula 1 world champion so it was another reason to celebrate.

Lewis had showered first so that I could have the bathroom to myself and put on makeup without him seeing me before I was completely ready.

As soon as I finished I looked at myself in the mirror once more and came out of the bathroom seeing my boyfriend sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room playing on his cell phone but he looked away from the screen as soon as he heard the bathroom door open and then smiled and stood up.

"Wow you look gorgeous."

"Thanks, you look perfect too." He smiles and holds my waist with his hands.

"Can we go? We have a lot to celebrate."

"We can."

We went to the restaurant he had chosen and made a reservation.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, it's this way." They led us to an outside area with a table just for the two of us which I thought was odd since we usually sat with the other people just in a more private corner to avoid people getting in the way.

"Are we sit alone today?" he pulled out a chair for me.

"Yes, why you didn't like it?"

"It's not that, I loved it, I just asked because you usually like to act normal and sit with everyone." He laughs.

"And I do but today I wanted to do something different since it's an important celebration."

"Absolutely, it's not every day that you become 8th time formula one world champion and breaking a record." I smiled at him who held my hand.

"Absolutely."

"Are you okay? You seem a little nervous."

"I'm fine yes just still can't believe all this happened today."

We ordered our food and had one of the best dinners ever, the night was beautiful with the star’s in the sky making everything even more perfect.

"Hey." He calls out to me and I looked up at him. "You are without a doubt the love of my life, I have never loved anyone the way I love you and I can't even imagine my life without you in it. Not many people can adapt with a hectic life like us driver’s and I thank you so much that besides you’re supporting me you are always there for me when I need you."

"Love you know I would do anything for you."

"With that said I want to ask you a question." I nodded and he reached up and took something from his pocket and knelt down in front of me. "Would you make me the happiest man in the world by marrying me?"

At this I started to cry and nodded my head in agreement.

"There is nothing I want more in the world than to be your wife." He smiled placing the ring on my finger and we both stood up and I slung my arms around his shoulders and kissed him. "Thank you for choosing me to be your wife."

"Thank you for choosing me to be your husband."

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram post

Liked by @lewishamilton, @yourmom, @georgerussel and other 91727

Yourusername today the love of my life asked me to be his wife. I can’t imagine my life without you in it and I’m so grateful for you.

I can’t wait to be Mrs Hamilton.

Tagged: @lewishamilton

The comments have been disabled

[natrogersfics]

PREVIEW - Always Remember Us This Way (Romanogers AU)

Artwork by @faith2nyc Part III of the So It Goes... 'verse

“These are the occupancy numbers for the month?”

Natasha’s lips curl up into a smirk as Loki peruses the latest report on the tablet. “Try the entire Summer.”

Loki’s eyes dart to her. “You don’t say,” he says, a smile spreading across his face when she nods in confirmation. He hands the tablet back, and the pride that fills his expression is difficult to miss as he leans back against the couch cushions. “Seems our little experiment is working.”

“Maybe a little,” she says, causing them both to chuckle.

If working meant blowing projections out of the water, then that’s absolutely what their experiment – that is, throwing rolling, invitation-only events at each revamped Red Guardian property – is currently doing. Their Las Vegas property had benefited from a surge of bookings following the opening of the Red Room, and if there’s anything she’s gleaned from the sudden resurgence of their once ailing asset, it’s that there’s still cache in the hotels that her parents had built. The waning interest of their patrons in recent years had nothing to do with them tiring of their prime locations but with the predictable, cookie-cutter experiences they were offering. After all, luxury hotels on the Strip were a dime a dozen in Sin City. But crown one with an ultra-exclusive rooftop club and suddenly everyone is clamoring for an invitation.

Needless to say, they had taken that concept and ran with it, applying it next to Red Guardian’s hotel in Milan. Following the rebuild of its grand ballroom and the subsequent Masquerade Ball that Loki’s company had arranged with every celebrity and socialite in attendance, what was once considered a hemorrhaging outpost in their portfolio is now a go-to destination in the North of Italy – a fact she’ll happily highlight at her next meeting with the board.

“So, where to next?” Loki asks, spreading his arms across the back of the couch. “Tokyo? Dubai? Oh, what about Ibiza?” He sighs. “A couple of glasses of tinto de Verano under the Iberian sun sounds heavenly right about now.”

“Are we picking our next project or your next vacation?” she says with a scoff.

Loki rolls his eyes. “One day, darling, you will learn to play as hard as you work.”

“Who’s to say I don’t?”

Intrigue colors Loki’s face, but before he can ask one of the hundreds of questions she knows is already forming in his mind, a knock causes them both to look towards the doorway of her living room to see Steve standing there, a folder clutched between his fingers.

“Mr. Rogers,” Loki greets cheerfully. “How nice of you to join us.”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” Steve says, and she doesn’t miss the way his tone sounds more formal than usual. She offers him a little smile when he turns her way, but it does nothing to dislodge his humorless expression. “When you have a minute, I’d like to go over the preliminary background check for your potential client.”

“The one who requested to meet with us tomorrow?” Loki clarifies before she can respond, earning a nod from Steve. “Since when do we run background checks on clients?”

“Since it’s become clear that security’s been a little too lax as of late,” Steve says, to which Loki arches a brow at. “Safety isn’t something we’re going to trivialize.”

“We can go over that report right now,” she says before Loki can say anything more, tapping his foot with her own in an attempt to get the man to shut up. From her periphery, she catches the confused stare Loki sends her way, but she ignores it as she directs Steve’s attention back to her. “We’re just about done here anyway.”

Steve walks further into the living room at that, stopping just in front of her coffee table to hand her the folder. As she opens it up, Loki scoots closer to her, peering over her shoulder as they both study the picture clipped to the corner of the report. The woman in the image couldn’t be much older than she is, her striking features breathtaking. Everything from her flawless, porcelain skin to her gray eyes that are wide and piercing – a stark contrast to the dark curls cascading down her shoulders – made for an intriguing sight.

“Her name is Viper?” she asks as she unclips the photo to read the rest of the information on the page.

“Yes and no,” Steve says, prompting her arch a brow. “Viper is her online persona, but her real name is Ophelia Sarkissian.” He gestures towards the rest of the report. “If you turn a few pages, there are some screenshots from her social media profiles. She made a name for herself by reviewing cosmetics for the eleven million followers she has across all platforms.”

Loki lets out a low whistle. “That’s quite a following.”

“Which is why she may be looking to capitalize on it,” Steve says. “She recently filed an LLC for a company called Viper Cosmetics.”

“Finally putting her doctorate to use,” she notes, reading over Ophelia’s accomplishments that include multiple PhDs on top of being a board-certified chemist. “Filing for an LLC is literally step one in putting up a company, though. Why would she want to meet with us already?”

“Probably to secure a venue for her when she’s ready to launch,” Steve says. “Between Vegas and Milan, the uptick in your occupancy has been all over the news.”

She rolls her lips, considering the thought before looking at Loki. “She’s not our usual clientele.”

“True, but it could be a good way to get our hands into that industry,” Loki offers.

“I suppose,” she says. “What else do we know about her?”

“At the moment, not much more than what’s in that file,” Steve admits, a hint of frustration slipping into his voice. “But like I said, this is just a preliminary check. The team and I haven’t found anything online that’s raised any red flags either, so as long as the meeting is in our territory, we don’t see an issue with tomorrow’s meeting.”

“I trust you,” she says, watching the way the tension in his shoulders ease ever so slightly at her words.

The faintest of smiles cross his lips, and she’s glad when that softens his worry-hardened expression. “I’ve also reached out to my contact at the FBI to see if she can find anything. Just in case.”

“Well,” Loki says, “I, for one, already feel very safe.”

This time, she doesn’t even think twice about joining Steve in sending him a glare, shaking her head when Loki only whips out his phone in response, scrolling through it unbothered. She looks back at Steve. “You’ll let me know if she finds anything?”

“Of course,” he says, checking his watch. “I’m actually going to meet with her this evening. Sam’s right at the door, but I’ll be in first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, feeling a sudden wave of disappointment at the idea. Even so, she musters a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Goodnight,” he says before turning to leave.

She watches his figure retreat down the hall until it disappears from her view as he turns the corner, and it’s only when the telltale sound of the front door opening and then clicking shut fills the room that Loki turns to her. “Has he always had that stick up his ass or did he put one up there today just for me?”

She leans her head back, sighing. “He’s been this way since we got back.”

“You’ve been back for weeks,” Loki says, smirking as he adds, “I thought he’d be a giant ball of sunshine after your little side trip.” She turns to him to send a glare his way. Needing someone to confide in after the events in Vegas, she’d told him about the true nature of her relationship with Steve. And while in hindsight, she should’ve known her best friend could not help but meddle, she was still a touch surprised when he’d admitted in return that he had some hand in setting things in motion. Nevertheless, she’s glad to have someone to talk to about all of this now – even if she is, at present, regretting the decision as she catches the mischievous glint that sparkles in Loki’s eyes. “Did you two have your first little domestic up in the mountains?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. Those three days…” she trails, reminiscing. “Well, they were perfect.”

She isn’t even being hyperbolic. Short as the trip they had decided to take after the event in Milan was, there really isn’t any other word to describe the days she and Steve spent alone together in her cabin in the Alps. With her phone forgotten in the deepest crevice of her luggage, it’s as though time spanned endlessly, allowing them to explore every nook and cranny of the little remote village they found themselves in. And with no one to recognize her, there hadn’t been a need for them to hide. They spent the days walking in and out of the quaint shops, sipping on mulled wine, and stealing kisses as they huddled for warmth. Then as the night rolled around, they would find themselves retiring by the fire, where they would talk and laugh and eventually find their way into each other’s arms again. Those days were nothing short of blissful, and she couldn’t think of a time where she’d felt so happy. So complete.

“What’s changed then?” Loki asks.

She sighs, recalling the exact moment in the car ride back home from the airport where she felt their euphoric little bubble burst right in the backseat of the SUV. “When we got home, his team told us that someone had sent me letters,” she says. “They were similar to the ones my stalker had sent me in the past.”

“Natasha,” Loki says, every trace of his upbeat mood gone as he sits up straighter, grabbing her hand. “Are you alright? If you’re in danger again-”

“I’m okay, Loki,” she says, finding that she truly does mean her words as she squeezes his hand back in reassurance. She’d been paralyzed with fear the first time she’d received those letters, and even more so when that maniac had found a way to corner her in the elevator bank way back when. But things are different now. She’s capable of fighting back, of protecting herself. And now she has Steve, who along with his team, she trusts whole-heartedly to never let anything like that happen to her again. “The guy’s been apprehended. Steve… well, he and his team made sure of it.”

“I’m relieved,” Loki says. “Though I suspect he isn’t.”

She shakes her head, running a hand tiredly over her face. “He’s been… distant?” she says, trying the word out for size. “He’s here, watching me and our surroundings like a hawk, but at the same time it feels like he’s a million miles away.”

“He cares about you. Deeply.”

“And I feel the same way about him,” she says, her answer coming to her almost instantly before she finds herself admitting the one thought that’s been weighing on her since the jet touched down in Teterboro last week. “I just wish we never came home.”

A beat of silence hangs over them before Loki sighs. “Natasha,” he says, “I understand why the two of you have been keeping things under the radar, but… would it really be the worst thing? The two of you out in the open?”

For a moment, she can only stare at her friend, contemplating his question. “I don’t know,” she says eventually.

Full chapter coming soon...