#best rug shop near me

[canberrarugsau]

Looking for the best rug shop near you? Visit Mayne Rugs & Flooring for an exclusive collection of modern, traditional, and custom rugs. Elevate your space with premium designs at unbeatable prices. Shop online at https://canberrarugs.com.au/

[rugsaustralia]

How to Flatten a New Rug? Tips for Your Rug to Shine

You have just received your stunning new rug from All Modern Rugs – the perfect finishing touch for your home. But wait, those corners just won’t flat lie! Don’t worry, these stubborn curls are a common new rug problem. Here are some simple yet effective tips to get your Sydney rugs online purchase laying flat and looking fabulous:

Unroll and Lay Flat

As soon as your rug arrives, unroll it and place it in a flat, open area. Allow it to acclimate to room temperature for a few hours. This can help relax the fibres and reduce creasing.

Use weights

For stubborn corners that refuse to flatten, try placing heavy books or furniture on them. Leave these weights in place for a few days to help the rug regain its shape.

Heat with caution

Need a faster solution for stubborn creases? Heat can be helpful, but use it with caution! Here are two methods:

HairDryer: Set your hair dryer to a low heat setting and hold it 6-8 inches away from the back of the rug. Continuously move the dryer back and forth to avoid scorching any fibres.

Iron: Only use an iron on rugs with synthetic fibres that can withstand heat. Set the iron to a low setting and place a thin towel or brown paper bag between the iron and the rug. Gently iron over the creases, constantly moving the iron to avoid burning.

Reverse Roll

If your rug is particularly stubborn, try rolling it in the opposite direction. Leave it rolled for a day or two to help it settle back into shape. By following these tips, our new rug will not only lay flat but will also become the stunning centrepiece of your room. If you’re looking for quality Sydney rugs online, visit All Modern Rugs to explore our wide range of options that will enhance your home decor.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Up North Minnesota Distressed Flannel.

Embrace the spirit of the North with our Up North Minnesota Distressed Flannel. This rugged yet stylish flannel shirt features a unique design that captures the essence of Minnesota's stunning landscapes and adventurous spirit. Crafted from soft, breathable fabric, it offers both comfort and durability for your outdoor escapades or cozy nights by the fire.

The distressed finish adds a touch of character, making each piece one-of-a-kind. With its classic plaid pattern and relaxed fit, this flannel is perfect for layering or wearing on its own. Whether you're exploring the great outdoors or enjoying a casual day in town, the Up North Minnesota Distressed Flannel is your go-to choice for style and comfort.

No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.

SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

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© 2018 All photography is intellectual property of Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations © and may not be used without express written permission from Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations.

At Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations, we specialize in crafting high-quality custom apparel and accessories tailored to your needs. Whether you're looking for vibrant custom t-shirts, durable safety shirts, or stylish team shirts, we have you covered. Our stainless steel tumblers and distressed flannels are perfect for gifts or promotional items, and our memorial chair coverings provide a heartfelt touch for special occasions. We proudly serve sports teams and corporate clients, ensuring your vision comes to life. Explore our wide range of customizable options today!

[erugmaster]

Best rug shop near me in San Francisco | Rug shop in Oakland

Erugmaster.com Rug shop has one of the largest rug collections in San Francisco. We have an amazing collection of readymade rugs for sale near me in Oakland.

[golden-internationallc]

Maintaining the Elegance: Tips for Proper Rug Care

Introduction:

Rugs not only add warmth and comfort to a space but also contribute significantly to the overall aesthetics of a room. To ensure your rugs remain in their original condition, it's essential to adopt a proactive approach to their care and maintenance. In this article, we will read some effective tips to keep your rugs in a well-mannered state, preserving their beauty and longevity.

Regular Vacuuming:

The first step in maintaining rugs is a consistent vacuuming routine. Regular vacuuming helps remove dust, dirt, and debris that accumulate on the rug's surface. Use a vacuum cleaner with adjustable height settings to ensure it doesn't damage the rug fibers. Focus on high-traffic areas and don't forget to vacuum under furniture to prevent the buildup of dirt in hidden spaces.

2. Rotation for Even Wear:

To avoid uneven wear, it's crucial to rotate your rugs periodically. This is especially important for rugs placed in high-traffic areas, where certain sections may experience more foot traffic than others. Rotating the rug every few months ensures that wear & tears are distributed evenly, preserving the overall appearance of the rug.

3. Immediate Stain Treatment:

Accidents happen, and when they involve spills or stains on your rug, swift action is key. Avoid rubbing, as it can push the stain deeper into the fibers. Use a mild detergent or a mixture of vinegar and water for stubborn stains. Always test any cleaning solution on a small, inconspicuous area first to avoid potential damage.

4. Professional Cleaning:

While regular vacuuming and spot cleaning are essential, rugs also benefit from periodic professional cleaning. Consider having your rugs professionally cleaned every 12 to 18 months depending on the material and usage. Professional cleaners have the expertise and equipment to deep clean rugs, remove embedded dirt, and rejuvenate the fibers.

5. Protection from Sunlight:

Exposure to direct sunlight can cause fading and discoloration in rugs over time. Consider using curtains, blinds, or UV-filtering window films to protect your rugs from harmful UV rays. Additionally, periodically rotate rugs to ensure any fading is evenly distributed, preventing noticeable discoloration in specific areas.

6. Use Rug Pads:

Investing in good-quality rug pads can significantly contribute to the well-mannered upkeep of your rugs. Rug pads provide cushioning, prevent slipping, and protect both the rug and the underlying floor. They also promote airflow, reducing the risk of mold and mildew growth.

7. Store Rugs Properly:

If you decide to store rugs temporarily, make sure to clean and dry them thoroughly before rolling them up. Use a breathable material such as muslin or cotton for wrapping and avoid storing them in damp or humid areas. Regularly inspect stored rugs for any signs of pests, and consider using natural pest deterrents like cedar blocks or lavender sachets.

Conclusion:

Proper rug care is essential for maintaining their beauty and longevity. By incorporating these tips into your routine, you can ensure that your rugs remain in a well-mannered state, enhancing the aesthetics of your living spaces for years to come. Remember, a little proactive care goes a long way in preserving the elegance of your rugs.

[waschsalon1]

How Can Laundry Services Help You Manage Your Time More Efficiently?

In today's fast-paced world, time is a precious commodity. The never-ending to-do lists often leave us yearning for a few extra hours in the day. One way to regain some of that lost time is by outsourcing your laundry to professional laundry services.

[soapsbaby]

Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish

These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!

Ghost

Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.

Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.

Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.

Soap

He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.

Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).

Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.

König

He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.

Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.

Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.

Gaz

Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.

Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.

Cpt Price

Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.

Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.

Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).

Alejandro

Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.

Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts. 

Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.

Rudy

Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.

In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.

Valeria

Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.

Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).

[redisaid]

In Dreams 1 of ???

It's never just coffee

Not me starting another Sylvaina project in the cursed year of 2025.

Feel free to guess at what's actually going on here.

NSFW

4024 Words

Read it on Ao3!

Mm, in dreams, I have lain in sin, just to be the cracked and cared for.

“You’re here again?”

The question--almost an accusation, really--caused Jaina’s eyes to focus again, drawing away from the blur of cold darkness and warm lamplight outside the window and toward the familiar voice that spoke it.

Vereesa was here. Of course she was.

“I wanted coffee,” Jaina protested, shaking her nearly empty to-go cup at her friend. The one she’d never actually gone anywhere with, as she was still very much sitting in the same cafe it had come from.'

The very window she’d been looking out of was emblazoned with the same logo as the cup, a cute cartoonish hawkstrider, running away from the words Windrunner Cafe. Running, perhaps, as Jaina should have.

Vereesa was standing by the door, shaking the rain off of her umbrella, the words of her own last name shadowed onto her by the streetlights outside like an unwanted tattoo. She set down her umbrella near Jaina’s vigil, still dripping onto the wooden floor. Her eyes darted, specifically to the counter, then avoiding the woman who stood behind it.

And as for Sylvanas, she was kind enough to all involved to pretend she didn’t see her sister enter her place of business, though Jaina knew that she certainly had noticed.

“It’s never just coffee,” Vereesa muttered as she took a seat on the leather sofa next to Jaina.

Denying that was futile. Vereesa was right. Jaina wasn’t here for coffee. She ignored the comment.

Instead she asked, “Do you still like a macchiato? I was going to get a refill.”

“I don’t want anything,” Vereesa sighed. She seemed to sink deeply into the leather like it was the first time she’d been able to sit down all day. Yet Jaina could sense she was still deeply uncomfortable--her posture stiff and rigid to the bone, unable to relax.

She didn’t blame her. Vereesa almost never spoke to her sister in her own coffee shop when she visited. She always seemed deeply disappointed to find Jaina there, and that seemed to be the sole purpose of those visits--being disappointed. But Jaina was an adult. She could make her own decisions about whether she wanted to frequent her ex’s cafe, even if her best friend and the sister of said ex wasn’t thrilled about it.

Vereesa sat upright from the leather sinkhole she was falling into and blinked against the warm light of the cafe. “I just want you to think hard about all of this, Jaina,” she told her. “Does it seem right to you?”

“Right is a complicated term,” Jaina replied. “Something I think we can both understand.”

“Look around you,” Vereesa implored, sitting up straighter and looking around the cafe herself.

Jaina followed suit. It was no different than it always was. The atmosphere had always been calm and inviting. White walls were covered with murals and hanging art to the point where one hardly knew they were white anymore. Wooden floors were covered with plush rugs by the lounge seating, their finish polished to a dull shine by the tables and the counter. Soft leather couches dominated one side of the cafe, accompanied by patterned fabric armchairs, while the other half was rife with tall bar tables that couples lingered around on late evening coffee dates. And of course the warm smell of that coffee, the richness of it that made the air seem heavy, but in a pleasant way. Like a thick blanket protecting soft skin from the cold.

And Sylvanas, patiently waiting, ignoring them on purpose. She was busy making a drink for a weary-looking student in Kirin Tor purple and gold. The same colors that Jaina had worn when she’d wandered in here the first time, still a student herself.

“I don’t see anything different,” Jaina told her. She no longer wore purple and gold on the daily. Today, it was a sweater the color of cream, much the same as most of her hair. Only a small streak of gold remained to that too.

“That’s the problem,” Vereesa said. She folded in on herself, hunching forward, elbows on her knees. “It’s always the same with you.”

Jaina could only guess at what she really meant, but she didn’t have to guess much. Vereesa likely knew she wasn’t here because she wanted coffee. Well, Sylvanas did still make it like no one else in Dalaran, but Jaina could be honest with herself. That wasn’t the reason. Not this late at night, anyway.

“I don’t have to justify myself to you,” Jaina told her. “And I don’t think you want me to.”

“I don’t get it,” was all Vereesa had to say to that. She ducked her head down and rubbed at her neck. “You have so much else going on. You’re so smart. This isn’t you.”

Smart didn’t mean Jaina avoided her ex. It didn’t mean that she wasn’t constantly drawn to the coffee scent of her--how it lingered in her platinum blonde hair, or the taste of it on her wicked tongue. They did not work. That had been obvious from the start, but they tried to defy it for years. Too long. Enough that it hurt them both and everyone around them, including Vereesa.

Still, Jaina came here now and then. For coffee, but not for coffee.

“What if it is me?” was a question for herself as much as it was for Vereesa.

Vereesa looked up again, this time pointedly at the counter, as if daring her sister to look back to answer for that. But Sylvanas was busy. She was always busy when Vereesa was here. She was counting change, or grinding beans, or washing dishes, or dealing with a delivery. Always something.

“I have to go. I don’t know how to fix this, how to fix you. I don’t know how I can help anymore,” Vereesa said.

She stood quickly, purposefully, and with such disruption to the slow, quiet richness of the cafe that Jaina didn’t feel she could even catch her. And why should she try? Just to be chastised?

Either way, it wasn’t going to stop the inevitable pull of what brought her here. She and Sylvanas had a gravity to them. They were two objects, orbiting one another slowly until those orbits would eventually decay into one another. They would always crash into each other, part ways just as violently, only to return to those inescapable ellipticals again.

Jaina would have moved on if she could have. She was sure Sylvanas felt the same. If anyone else could make her coffee like this. If anyone else could pull her in so deeply.

But no one else could.

While lost in those thoughts, she missed Vereesa leaving. The only evidence of her ever being there at all was a still dripping umbrella, abandoned and forgotten. Jaina picked it up, leaning it against the low table in front of the couch. Maybe she’d come back for it. Maybe not. What did it matter?

It was getting late anyway.

Jaina didn’t get her refill. Sylvanas was still busy, or pretending to be. She was a good actor, so it was hard to tell. But act or not, she’d keep it up until closing time. That, at least, they could be responsible about. That, at least, Jaina could rely on her for.

People began to slowly filter out of the shop. Those lingering coffee dates lingered on a while longer, one couple even staying a few minutes past nine. They seemed to forget the world around them existed, or that it had rules they needed to follow, places they could and should not be.

Jaina understood what it was like to forget such things, or at least to want to. She waited, reading a book on portal theory she’d brought along, swishing the last bit of coffee in her cup around, and pretending that she was one to judge.

Last to leave, as always, even later than the couple, was that odd regular. The elven woman with her gaudy, jeweled fish purse. She’d always stare Jaina down, as if knowing she was waiting for her, and then smile. It was a polite smile, but odd. Unnerving. Strange.

Strange as the fact that she’d always order a pastry of some kind and leave it untouched. No coffee either.

Today, it was a slice of almond cake, still pristine on the little white dish it had been served to her on. The silver fork was untouched, balanced across the top of the plate from rim to rim, just as Sylvanas would have placed it.

Jaina made herself useful and picked up the uneaten cake, bringing it to the counter.

“She never even touches it,” she noted as she placed it down in front of Sylvanas.

The signal was given. The act was dropped. Sylvanas seemed to come into herself, taking shape behind the elf in the apron and button up shirt beneath it, her sleeves rolled her elbows. A life sparked in her now that she and Jaina were alone. It started, as it had the first time, with a smirk.

Followed by, “She never does.”

Sylvanas’ voice was distinctly more accented than her sister’s. Elven and haughty sounding, her actions were anything but that.

Sylvanas took the plate from Jaina, discarding the cake in a garbage bin, then tossing the dish and fork into a soapy sink.

“So, here we are again,” Sylvanas noted as she came back over to the counter, leaning on the padding of gathered sleeves at her elbows, chin coming to rest in one hand.

Still with that smirk.

“I can go,” Jaina offered. “If you’d rather we not be here again.”

“That’s up to you,” Sylvanas told her. She fished into the pocket of her apron and handed Jaina a set of keys.

A carved wooden hawkstrider matching the shop’s logo dangled from the end of the keychain. It was always Jaina’s choice: lock up for her, with herself inside, or leave.

Jaina took the keys. She locked the front door, not even fumbling to catch the tricky deadbolt. They were old friends. She knew what to do.

She never just left.

Jaina handed the keys back to Sylvanas, who had finally come out from the protection the counter offered her against the world to turn off the lights.

Now it was only them, decisions made.

The last of the lights flicked off. “I guess I’ll finish cleaning tomorrow,” Sylvanas announced.

“I guess you will.”

It was like a dance. An old routine of steps their bodies knew so well that no one had to say anything. No hands were offered to guide. No excuses were made.

Jaina just followed Sylvanas to the back room. Amidst walls lined with shelves, boxes of napkins and wooden stirrers on the floor, spare aprons hung on hooks, there was room enough for a couch and a desk. The couch used to be out front, before a customer had ripped a hole in one of the cushions somehow. It had been hastily patched, then moved here years ago.

But now it served to catch them when they fell.

Jaina’s lips were on Sylvanas already, drinking in the coffee scent that clung to her skin, like she was the frothed cream that hid decadence and the promises of future energy below. Jaina--ever the caffeine addict--was here for her fix. And what a fix it was.

Strong arms held her to an apron that hadn’t yet had the opportunity to come off, but those same arms still somehow had the time to brace their inevitable fall into the couch. Warmth radiated from her, indulgent and calming. Pale blonde eyelashes tickled against Jaina’s skin as Sylvanas returned her kiss, then swiftly moved for her neck.

She knew what to do. Jaina didn’t have to tell her. She didn’t have to guide. She didn’t have to do anything but feel.

Maybe that was the appeal of it. Maybe that was what kept her coming back. Not the coffee. Not the tinge of shame that blossomed in her belly, but spread into a deep warmth and was so soon forgotten.

No, it was nice to be fucked by someone who knew how to fuck her as easily as if it were breathing.

Teeth grazed her skin, elven fangs only hinting at what they were capable of. For Jaina, the reminder was enough, and Sylvanas knew that well. She didn’t need to be bitten, only to know that she could be.

Communicating that to anyone else in this world seemed so exhausting, so wholly unnecessary. Why would she bother, when she could get it with the best cup of coffee in town?

Sylvanas knew her body like she knew her favorite drink. Hot hands were the espresso, warming and exciting each bit of skin they explored, like liquid as they lifted clothing up and out of the way. Steamed milk followed with gentle kisses along her jawline, over her clavicles and along the tops of her breasts, just brushing the lace of Jaina’s bra. The two mixed as clasps were freed from their hold on one another, and tongue and teeth and hands alike were free to ripple a pattern in the mug of Jaina’s chest. Swirls of pleasure and relief filled Jaina equally, as Sylvanas poured the flat white of her into the dusty couch in the back office.

“What do you want?” was whispered against her ear, with the length of an elven ear in turn pressing itself to Jaina’s cheek.

When Sylvanas asked this question, it wasn’t a draining experience. Jaina knew her words would be heeded, swiftly and expertly. With anyone else, the explanation was lengthy and didn’t yield the results she wanted, or that she desperately needed.

“Your mouth,” was all she had to say.

The couch was hardly enough space for this. The office wasn’t either. They needed a royal suite. A penthouse. A bed whose soft expanse was beyond ridiculous.

But a couch in the back room was all they were getting. And Sylvanas knew how to make do.

In short order, Jaina’s sweater and the soft camisole she’d worn beneath were on the floor. Her bra joined the pile. She could only assume they were there, because her eyes were screwed shut now, not daring to interrupt feeling with sight. Sylvanas was pulling down her leggings and her panties with them, wasting no time.

How many times had they fucked on this couch? Jaina didn’t know. Perhaps she didn’t want to. It happened before they broke up, and many more times after. It all blurred together, honestly. Time and space and who and when and where and why. What did it matter?

Jaina knew what she wanted. She knew where she could feel alive again. It didn’t matter if she could be proud about it. It didn’t matter that it was all very messy. Life was messy. People were too.

Sylvanas even, with her stuttering breaths hot and wet against Jaina’s bare thigh, wasn’t perfect. If she was, Jaina would have married her. If she was, they wouldn’t be fucking in the back office of a coffee shop, hiding from the world.

Sylvanas’ tongue was messy too, but in all the right ways. The first brush of it made Jaina gasp. She always forgot how good this felt, the electric wave of energy that shot up her spine. And then there was the low groan that would inevitably follow when Sylvanas chuckled softly at her own prowess. The vibrations of that laugh reverberated through Jaina’s core like she was a hollow thing, an instrument ready to be strummed.

And Sylvanas could play her like no one else.

Shoulders still rough with apron straps braced themselves against the back of her thighs. Hands equal parts rough with dishwater and shiny smooth from steam burns found Jaina’s, lacing fingers between her own. They urged her away from tugging at patched leather, and placed their combined might upon bare thighs. Sylvanas stroked across them for both of them, establishing a rhythm she matched with lips and tongue.

Jaina was already drowning in her. The bold intensity of coffee, the soft silk of cream. The knowledge that she would be overwhelmed soon, all doubts banished into nothingness, swirling into liquid dark.

It didn’t take long. It wasn’t too short. It was just enough. Jaina was bucking against her, thighs squeezing ears perked high in arousal. Hands held her hands, pulling their bodies taut together where they connected, unwilling to let even an ounce of precious friction escape in this crucial moment.

It was almost too much, too good, too hot. Sylvanas threatened to burn her each time, scalding, but she never did. She let Jaina go, hands and mouth and skin alike. She let her breathe shallow, shuddering breaths in the inches between them.

Sylvanas knelt up, and wiped smirking lips on the back of her hand.

It felt like a lifetime ago, and Jaina couldn’t exactly recall when, but it was that smirk that had gotten her attention the first time. The light in those soft grey eyes. The quirking lip, playful, inviting, challenging. Too challenging sometimes when it wasn’t silenced like this.

Sylvanas was better this way, drinking Jaina in like she was something to savor, too decadent to swallow quickly. A white chocolate peppermint mocha. A perfectly foamy cappuccino.

But the one thing Jaina could do without was her ruining it, and that was always a service Sylvanas was willing to provide.

“You needed that, huh?” she asked, still smirking, her knees tangled with Jaina’s stripped off leggings.

“Shut up,” Jaina breathed, shooting to her own knees in a way that was probably not wise for the shakiness of them. Still, she managed. “It’s your turn.”

She covered Sylvanas’ lips with her own, pressing her back onto the other end of the couch. She covered the stained canvas of her apron with her bare flesh, still hot and flushed and tingling. Jaina wouldn’t abide by that for long, and found the ties of the cursed thing while her tongue kept Sylvanas’ from ruining this any further. She flung it to the side, not caring if it landed with the other aprons, on the desk, or tangled itself in the shelves.

Jaina skipped the button up entirely, only ghosting her hands across the pane of it. There would be time to strip Sylvanas bare later, and she didn’t need her to gloat over the flat and muscled plane of her abs right now. She needed her to come, and for it to be because Jaina made her.

She pulled the shirt loose from where it was tucked into tight trousers in one motion, and in the next, plunged her hand under the waistband.

Sylvanas was wet and hot and ready. She always liked to get Jaina off first, and that had been just fine. It was a treat to find just how much she’d enjoyed the act later on, the wet warmth of her an extra shot of espresso at the end of a long day.

Jaina sunk two fingers into it, finding little resistance and only a moan of encouragement coming from Sylvanas. A nip against her lip, a groan, a shudder, and finally an arching up and into her until Jaina added the friction of her thumb against where it was being asked for, but not yet begged for.

She rocked deep within Sylvanas, relishing in the fact that she could do exactly what Sylvanas did for her, to her. She could give her what she wanted without being asked. She could hold her steady just before the peak, as she liked. She could silence any more words that could possibly stand between them by turning them to keens and moans, breaths sucked in and held to heighten the feeling.

Sylvanas found her own whirlpool, gripping at Jaina’s bare back, holding her close as the deep dark of her held Jaina’s fingers within, neither letting go for several long moments. Her body was taut, letting out only a single shaking breath and a curse muffled into Jaina’s neck.

It was over too soon and yet it took too long. Jaina wanted to fuck her forever, but she couldn’t stand her. She loved her, but she wanted to love anything else.

It all felt like a dream, hazy and coffee-stained. It didn’t make sense, but then again, neither did she.

Neither did Sylvans, who only pushed Jaina off her to strip off her own shirt. She reached back for her again just as quickly, drawing skin to skin. She held her as they both liked to be held after sex, as they both knew the other did.

Sylvanas traced patterns on Jaina’s shoulders. She brushed white hair and its streak of gold from pale skin. She kissed a freckle or two. She lingered.

Jaina wanted her not to say anything. It was always too complicated when either of them said anything. But she knew that she would eventually open her mouth.

And Jaina was too tired now, too languid and swimming in silky blonde hair that smelled of sex and sweat and shampoo and coffee.

“I don’t understand it,” was what Sylvanas finally muttered to ruin things this time.

“What’s there to understand?” Jaina asked her.

It was starting to get cold as the flush of sex left her skin. Hot shame might have flooded her instead, long ago. Regret as a cold pit in her stomach was only a memory. No, this had been going on too long for either of those to come for her now.

But Sylvanas’ hand was still warm as it brushed across her back, nails softly scratching along with it.

“Why me?” she asked.

“There’s no one else. You know that,” Jaina told her. “I try and try, and no one else works. No one else understands what I need.”

“I don’t work,” Sylvanas told her. “You don’t even realize how much I don’t work.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t care.”

“So why me?”

They both knew the answer. Well, Jaina was sure she did, but, “you fuck me like no one else ever can and will,” would sound crass, too pointed and correct to be uttered.

“I like your coffee too much,” was what she answered instead.

Sylvanas laughed at that. Jaina always loved that laugh. Too bad she heard it more often than not when Sylvanas was laughing at her own terrible jokes. Her self-confidence had been sexy once. Now she found it grating.

Still, it was nice to have it rumble through her, and for the smirk that followed to press a kiss to her cheek.

Even if Sylvanas told her, “You don’t like my coffee. You don’t even like me. You must fucking hate me. That’s why I don’t get it.”

“So stop trying,” Jaina recommended. She rallied herself, sliding a hand between them to find Sylvanas’ breasts, nipples stiff from the cold of the office, or maybe from a desire for round two.

Well, Jaina could provide either a distraction or what was wanted but not yet asked for. Anything to stop her talking.

“I can’t stop trying,” Sylvanas told her.

She seemed to be trying to sit up and pull Jaina along with her.

Jaina resisted, pressing herself and Sylvanas beneath her into the couch, thumb and fingers pinching away the cold and the thought of anything else. Nails demanding attention to the right things--to what should and should not be.

But Sylvanas was strong. She was determined. She was going to ruin it anyway. She always did.

She sat up, her hands on Jaina’s waist guiding her up, demanding her to follow suit. Grey eyes peered into hers.

For a second, Jaina could swear they flashed red.

“We need you, Jaina. As much as I enjoy these visions of yours, and don’t understand them at all, we still need you. You need to wake up,” Sylvanas pleaded.

Ruined again, the vision swirled into nothing--an ink-dark and swallowing void.

[engeorged]

Santa’s Otto

This is a sequel to Obi's Place and a prequel to Aster's Maze. Also now The Sugarman’s House

It’s been a while since I last posted, and a fair bit has happened with me and Aster, but that’s something that’s still developing. Being in a relationship with a magical being is not something that’s been mapped, outside of Greek fables, so we are still finding our way with it. Suffice to say we are both very happy and very together.  Both of us have grown quite a bit. Physically, mentally and spiritually shall we say. (And by that I mean quite a lot more physically than the other two). But I think that that's a story for another time. I want it to be mine for a little longer. 

Anyway, as Christmas is coming up, I thought I would tell you about an encounter I had, just a few months before meeting Aster. As it turned out, it wasn't actually me meeting a fae, but it definitely gave me some confirmation, and I think some of you will really enjoy this story! It’s about the time I met Santa in Germany. Yes, I know how that sounds, but you’re going to have to bear with me. 

I’d headed to Europe a few months earlier and was working my way through some possible sightings. I hadn’t seen or met another being like Obi yet, but I’d definitely picked up some promising clues. A few things which I thought were legit,  had led me to northern Germany where I immediately hit a dead end. German Christmas’ are some of the best in the world so I decided to stay a few weeks and have a break from the search. I’d been enjoying the sights of some famous local castle, and was feeling a bit hungry so I popped into a medium sized shopping mall I’d seen earlier and headed in. It was pretty quiet, which was strange considering it was the Saturday before Christmas but  as I was walking through looking for something to eat, my eye was drawn to an incredibly hot man doing some maintenance work. He was dressed in an overall but it was open all the way down to his waist, revealing an incredibly toned physique. His very worked on, defined abs were covered in a delightful amount of belly fur all the way up to his thick neck and he was very much my type. I paused for a moment to drink him in and watched as he heaved some large boxes as if they were nothing. He was maybe an inch taller than me with broad shoulders and a thick head of dark messy hair with a fade at the sides. His beautifully pale European skin along with his darker hair and smattering of freckles was very striking.  His face was covered in just the right amount of stubble to make him look rugged but not scruffy. But the crowning glory was his eyes! They were a vibrant pale blue that practically shone out from his face. As he turned and bent down to pick up the next box, I was surprised that his rounded meaty ass didn’t burst out of those overalls. They were unfortunately doing a good job at holding back all that muscle. I shook off my horny reverie and made a note to come back round after lunch to see if he was still there. Following my nose, I headed in the direction of food and found a little pop-up Christmas food court. I indulged in a few thick sausages and some delightful potato and apple cakes which were not bad at all. I took another couple of sausages to go and headed back the way I’d come, hoping to catch the hot maintenance guy again. 

I hung around near where I first saw him for a good twenty minutes before I heard a commotion a bit further down. I walked over to where the sound was coming from and saw the festive grotto. Santa had arrived for the Christmas display. Kids were clamouring round excitedly and as I watched I saw Santa make his way through the crowds. I was yet again surprised to see that this was not your average sad old failed actor, living out his last working years as the big red fat man for a few euros an hour. This guy was young and vibrant. His broad shoulders were straining the limits of the outfit, with the white fur trim (probably real, this is Europe after all!) curving round and showing off the enormous belly. At first I assumed it was padded but it definitely caught my eye. The guy was so clearly stacked that the belly looked almost comical. It was almost perfectly round and stuck out a good foot and a half from this guy's toned body. As I watched him moving around I started noticing that the belly wasn’t squishy like a pillow would have been. It had a certain heft to it that I was very familiar with. I moved forward to get a better look and saw a kid, who wasn’t paying attention, get under his feet, tripping him up. He fell backwards onto a small elf house and levelled it. As he fell, his red coat came undone and I got a good glimpse of the huge round furry belly that was contained underneath. It was a thing of beauty, rounded and perfectly formed. Covered in dark thick hair with a small and neat belly button. He quickly pulled himself up and closed the coat, laughing it off. As he adjusted his fake white beard I caught a glimpse of his piercing pale blue eyes. I’d seen them before.  Was the maintenance guy? What the fuck? I’d seen him an hour before and he was practically an underwear model. Either he’d got a Hollywood level makeup and prosthetic artist hidden round the back or there was something fishy going on. 

My mind was racing. If that belly was real, it had to have grown in less than an hour? Who was he? Was this guy somehow a Fae? A crazy thought passed through my mind, was this actually Santa? I know I’d chased round the world for less weird ideas but the idea that Santa might have been real, was still a bit out there, even for me. Also, more importantly, did I have a crush on Santa? 

I waited around till his shift ended. I couldn’t keep my eyes off this guy's belly. It was incredible. There was no flab or excess blubber, it looked like a solid mass of muscle over a huge sphere of gut. Well, like I was after Obi! I couldn’t lose this guy. This was the closest I’d come to answers in months. It was fascinating to watch him in action, the kids were captivated by him, and so were the parents. I couldn’t help but notice that he paid a fair bit of attention to some of the more hot dads, often touching them on the arm as he laughed at their bad jokes. 

A few hours later, I saw him waving goodbye to the children before disappearing behind the grotto. I followed him and waited till he was alone. I approached him quietly so he didn’t have time to bolt and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped out of his skin and span round, yet again revealing his massive ball belly as his coat flapped open. I introduced myself and told him I’d enjoyed his performance. Fortunately, he spoke very good English and understood me. He cautiously introduced himself as Otto and shook my hand. He took his beard off and I saw his face up close. It was so odd to see such a handsome and chiselled face sporting such a huge gut but there they both were. I didn’t really know where to go from there so I simply came out with it. I saw him an hour earlier and he had no belly. Now here he was with a 150 lbs beer gut. What was the deal?  Was magic involved?

He stared at me for a little while, clearly weighing up what to say. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna bolt so I got myself ready for a chase, but suddenly he burst out with a hearty laugh and pulled me in for a hug. His belly pressing against me hit home how real it was. Our bellies pushed against each other with a satisfying thunk. As he pulled back he put his hands on either side of my belly and gave me a squeeze. As you know I’m not skinny myself, a few months of trying to eat myself into the same state as I was when Obi finished with me had added a few pounds to my bulk. Simply by touching me, Otto knew instantly that something magical had happened to me and asked me who I’d met. I told him about my encounter in the cafe and he nodded and smiled as if he understood. When I’d finished, he told me that my story was familiar and thanked me for telling it and turned to go. I reached out and grabbed his arm and asked him to tell me his story. He smiled and told me that it wasn’t going to be that simple. 

We chatted for a while and worked out the terms of our agreement. As is always the way with these magical types there was always some sort of bargain or deal to be had. He agreed to answer 5 questions but to answer the questions I would have to eat something of his choosing. Now I’m not able to eat the amount I did when Obi was around but I’m still an accomplished eater. I agreed to the terms and we headed to the Christmas food market. He found us a delightful booth made from wood, with garlands of holly and pine branches covering the roof and headed off for my first meal. He returned with three of the sausages I’d already eaten. They were so good I was happy and I set about eating them whilst he sat there with a smile on his face enjoying a large European litre of beer. I thought about my first question and went with it. ‘Are you Santa?’ He scratched at his stubble and smiled a wry grin. ‘No’ he said smugly and lumbered off to get my next meal. I was pissed that my question wasn’t quite right. I needed to ask something more open ended. I was still thinking about what to ask when he returned with a thick crepe, stuffed with cheese and bacon and covered in more cheese. I grabbed a wooden set of cutlery and started eating. 

As I finished, I began feeling a little full. Seven hot dogs, a pancake and some of those amazing apple potato fritters were heavy and not insignificant. I leant back and gave my belly a rub whilst I formulated my question. I needed a question that would make him give me more information than yes or no. I needed to find out if he was human and if not what he was. It came to me. ‘When did you first find you could grow an instant belly?’ His blue eyes twinkled, clearly impressed by my question. Draining the last dregs of his beer he leant back to match my position and began. 

‘I was just out of university and was back living with my parents. I’d decided by then that I wanted to do something practical and started training as an electrician. It was Christmas Eve and I’d been out with my friends and came home pretty drunk and I crashed. Now I was pretty into the gym at the time and I had a killer body. Well, I guess you'd have seen it if you caught me earlier? Anyway, I woke up Christmas morning with this thing pinning me down!’ He grabbed his belly and attempted to shake it but it didn’t really move. 

‘I had no idea what had happened and if I’m honest I sort of assumed it was the beer from the previous night. I thought I’d had an allergic reaction or something. Anyway, I went to the hospital to get checked out and they were baffled. No one could explain what had happened to me. With no answers I headed back to the gym and started training. I had 160 lbs to lose and I wanted it gone quickly. I hadn’t lost my muscle mass and so training was relatively easy. It took me 10 months in total but I managed it and got back into shape. I was maybe 20 lbs more than when I got the gut but it was all muscle mass so I was very much back in shape. I thought it was all behind me and then a few months later I woke up on Christmas morning yet again looking like I was pregnant with triplets. No one could tell me what had happened and so it all started again. Five years that happened for. Five years.’ 

I waited for more but that was all he was giving me. I went to ask another question and he stopped me and headed off. So he wasn’t a magical being. Something had happened to him? And why did it always happen on Christmas Day? What was the link?  He returned with a huge turkey sandwich, dripping with gravy and cranberry sauce, with a side of roast vegetables. Yet again I dove in, all the time formulating my next question. Something was not quite right here. How did he go from ballooning every Christmas Day to being able to do it seemingly at will, in an hour? I was missing something here? I had three questions left and I didn’t want to waste one of them. I finished the sandwich (best one I’ve ever had by the way) and posed my next question. ‘Did you find out why this happened to you?’ He smiled again and nodded. I instantly regretted my wording. I’d given him a yes or no question again. He paused and offered me a lifeline. ‘Ask me about him?’ He pointed at the mural painted on the ceiling above us of a jolly Santa riding his sleigh across the sky. 

That was all he was willing to give me and he left me to work on my fourth question. I needed to ask something about Father Christmas and how he was involved. So Father Christmas was real? My mind raced as I tried to get comfier in my chair. I was feeling the bloat now. The cheese in that pancake was sitting very heavily on my stomach. Otto returned with a bowl of steaming Christmas pudding. He’d brought me a whole one covered in custard that could have fed a family of six. I settled in to eat the fragrant dessert. I was struggling a bit now. It was a heavy thing to pack on top of what I’d already had. Otto was clearly enjoying watching me eat it though. He was on his fourth beer at this point and wasn’t really showing any signs of being drunk. Apparently Germans can really handle their beer. 

Finishing the pudding I dropped my spoon into the bowl. ‘Alright.’ I said, belching deeply under my breath. ‘You’ve just told me Santa is part of this. If Santa is real then he’s obviously some sort of magical being or fae. Here’s my question.’ I reached over and put my hand on the top of his massive belly shelf and patted it. ‘How does Santa give you this belly every Christmas Day?’ 

‘Now we’re getting somewhere!’ Otto added. He drained his beer again and I swore under my fingers I could feel his belly swelling a little bit more. ‘After year five of doctors and experts not knowing why I gained nearly 200 lbs every year, I started getting desperate. I did some research online and put some feelers out there. I wasn’t expecting to find the answers I found! Turns out there are loads of guys like me around the world and we all have several things in common. All of us are over 6 feet tall, and all of us are pretty into fitness or sports. Big solid strapping men. Not one of them knew what was happening to us. That was until I found a guy in Norway who has a theory. He told me this crazy story. He’d heard rumours of this happening for hundreds of years. There were some Norwegian folk tales of trolls who would trick mortal men into being their ‘Magebror’, literally translated as ‘belly brother’. The trolls would then go off and gorge themselves all night and the poor magebror would begin to get fatter and fatter until they would burst open. He thought that we were cursed by trolls and we should simply thank the gods we weren’t bursting open. Obviously I ignored him but the more research I did the more I found out that there were some truths in these myths. It wasn’t something he’d invented but a real fable that appeared in several different folk laws across Scandinavia. I got back in touch with him and he’d vanished, so I headed off to Norway to try and find him. It took me a while but eventually I did. And low and behold he was 6’6 and stacked but with a huge pot belly twice the size of mine. He told me he’d been investigating more and more and had uncovered the truth. It wasn’t trolls doing this to us, it was Father Christmas. I could have punched him in the face. I’d gone all this way only to find that the guy truly was mental. I didn’t even say goodbye. I headed straight back home, gave up the search and tried to lose the weight again before Christmas.’

‘Christmas Eve came and I couldn’t quite shake the idea that this guy had put in my head. I decided to sit up and see if I could stay awake to see what would happen. I nearly didn’t make it but as the clock struck midnight something changed in the house. I felt an electricity in the air and you can imagine my surprise when he landed with a thump in my fireplace. And he was not how I imagined him to look. In front of me was not a fat old man with a grey beard, but a total hunk. He was tall and muscled like I used to be. Clean shaved but with some incredible big dick energy. Like some sort of daddy stud. I don't quite remember fully but I think he did have some ram horns sprouting from his head but they might have been part of the costume? It was a lot anyway. He smiled as if he recognised me. We waited in silence for a few minutes. I was totally enthralled by how attractive he was. I almost didn’t want to ask my question. Eventually I managed to speak and asked why I was gaining weight every Christmas Day. He seemed all too pleased to tell me as he launched into the explanation. It was simple, he had a few billion homes to visit every year and in every country, there was a tradition to leave food out for him. He had to eat millions of cookies and mince pies and treats in just a few hours as he travelled. And so he used magic! He would choose a load of men, all who had the frame to handle the mass, and they would be his magebror. He’d learnt from the trolls how to do it. He would eat the food and they would get fat. I was simply one of a few hundred guys who would wake up with bellies packed full of treats every year so he could stay toned and handsome. And that's why I got fat every year!’

So it wasn’t just me that had encountered these guys. This was finally some proof that what happened to me in that diner was real! The relief for me was immense. I wasn’t going mad. My mind was pulled back to earth as Otto stood to get my final meal. I had one more question. The one thing I didn’t know was how he could do it at will. He’d obviously found a way to control how and when he bulked up. And the intimate question, could he teach me how to do it?  He returned with the final meal. A huge ironic plate full of cookies. There were at least a dozen and they were big ones. He slapped them on the table next to a large jug of milk. Obediently and greedily I started eating them. Dipping them in the milk,I was determined to get through them. One by one I swallowed each one down. Adding to the knot of pressure in my already overpacked stomach. My belly was feeling every bite as it distended outwards. Finishing the cookies was tough but I still had a few litres of milk to chug. There was nothing for it but to go for it. Lifting the jug to my lips I poured the cool milk into my stuffed gut. It felt good and horrible at the same time. I could feel my belly actually swelling out and straining my taut T-shirt. As the last of the milk drained down my throat, I slammed the jug on the table. Out of breath I posed my final question. ‘How do you control it? How come you can make your belly swell out when you want it to? How can I do that?’

His eyes sparkled. ‘That was three questions!’ He laughed. He reached over and gave my belly a stroke. He was firm but it was the touch of someone who knew how to handle a distended gut. ‘You’ve done well though! I’ll answer them. When I caught Santa out that night, I was the first one. No one had tracked him down before and he was pleased with me. I don’t wanna kiss and tell but let’s just say I sat on Santa's lap and he gave me a gift! He gave me the same ability that he has. The weight of food he eats, I can manage myself. Meaning I can gain his weight at will, whenever I like.  Then all I have to do to get rid of it is touch a guy like he does and he becomes my magebror! I’m not magic so it’s not quite as strong as his abilities are. My magebrors are only temporary and one offs.’

I was so stuffed I didn’t quite pick up on what he was saying but I nodded anyway. That explained why he was touching the hot dads in the queue. The idea of a load of guys walking up tomorrow morning a few pounds heavier was kinda hot. To be honest, I was just relieved that I wasn’t imagining things. He helped me up out of the booth and we walked back through the mall. We chatted a bit more about my experience and some of the leads I’d found. All the while I was painfully aware of how full I was. I couldn’t stop belching as we walked, the movement dislodging the gas. As I walked, I kept one hand on the top of my gut, rubbing my bloated belly to try and ease the pressure. I’d not felt this stuffed for a while and it felt good. 

I walked him back to his truck and he jumped in. As he jumped up I realised he was back to his original toned and lean self. I pointed it out and he just smiled as he drove off. As I stood in the snow processing the information I’d just been given I was interrupted by a ping. I was confused until I realised my trousers had become loose. The ping was my top button from my jeans. I looked down to see my belly was twice the size as it was when I had finished eating. I realised that he’d touched me as he helped me out of the booth. I had become his magebror! My belly had to be close to the same size it was when Obi had his way with me. I smiled as I explored my swollen belly with my hands. Also, it wasn’t lost on me that I’d just had a conversation with someone who had fucked Santa. 

For the rest of my stories click here

[avoidantrecovery]

we need to talk about ostracism, self-isolation and rejection sensitivity

I've been reading about ostracism and was really surprised to find out how impactful it is in people's lives and how little it is talked about.

To keep things short (according to Kipling D. Williams, one of the leading scientists on the subject):

ostracism is the act of being ignored or excluded

it's different from bullying or other more "engaging" abusive behavior in that it's about completely shunning a person, excluding them, not talking to them or engaging them, not arguing, simply treating them like air

when a person is ostracized, the same parts of the brain are activated that activate for physical pain

taking a tylenol actually dampens the pain of ostracism

people feel the pain of ostracism, even if the group ostracizing them is filled with people they don't like

something as simple as the silent treatment or deliberate denial of eye-contact or handshakes can be considered ostracism

four needs are threatened when a person is ostracized: belonging, self-esteem, control and meaningful existence

it activates an ancient fear of being abandoned and left to fend for one's life alone

the ostracized will go through three phases: reflexive (immediate negative affect and pain), reflective (efforts to re-connect with group via social conformity; if this is not possible aggression or self-isolation and development of rejection-sensitivity) and resignation (long term ostracism: feelings of alienation, depression, helplessness and worthlessness)

For me, AvPD began after an ostracism event paired with other bullying I was going through at the time. This was many years ago, however there is a through-line from that event to who I am today. After being ostracized by a group of girls in my new school, I tried my best to negotiate my behavior, clothes, etc... and be re-included. And the moment I thought I had been re-included in their group (they pretended), they pranked me, which nearly led to me drowning during a school trip. From that day on, not deliberately, I slowly began to self-isolate and separate from other kids. I became very sensitive to rejection and just couldn't place why, I definitely hadn't been like that prior. I had been very extroverted by nature, but suddenly would not go anywhere other kids might be (like playgrounds or toy shops etc…)

Even when I did form friendships with people, later on, it was more of a mirroring and masking, never deep friendships and no relationships. I was still negotiating, trying my best to not put myself at risk of ostracism again. Same for education and jobs.

Anyway, after reading about ostracism and just how strong the impact can be, I believe this is why AvPD developed for me. I don't know if anyone else ever experienced similar, I feel like ostracism is something that is easy to overlook. I always thought that the near-drowning is what had been a key event for me. But it was actually the prior ostracism that made the near-drowning so much more potent as an event. The strong desire to be re-included in the group and only to have the rug pulled from under me and literally be left for dead. That lead to me then self-isolating and so on... can anyone relate?

(The book is called "Ostracism, Exclusion and Rejection" by Kipling D. Williams). There is also an article in the Scientific American on the topic: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/the-pain-of-exclusion/

[dinsbeskar]

do you think that before the fall of Numenor Sauron dressed up as Halbrand again and went to the forge he worked at to tell them "you better get outta here, trust me"

Naaaaaaaaaah I can't think about it!!!!

Not sauron getting sentimental and going back to the forge, finding the blacksmith who gave him a chance, and putting him and his family on a boat.

Ummmmm your brain???

Whenever I tackle the fall of numenor (probably when s3/4 comes out, let's be fair, so it's a way off) i will remember this and link you (if you drop your username I'll credit you 💜)

Oh dear, never mind, I wrote it. I'm tagging sauron x reader bc it fits into my series, but reader is only mentioned like once lmfao sorry.

Putting on Halbrand again is a strange feeling after having walked the streets of Númenor as himself. The people knew him as a dark wizard, would bow their heads and scurry out of his path whenever he deigned to leave the palace, so to walk among them as a ragged commoner once more was strangely refreshing.

Too bad the isle was on its countdown to destruction.

He'd actually grown to enjoy his time here, corrupting an entire people's very souls, bar the few Faithful. They would prove useful, as they prepare their ships today to leave for Middle Earth, their attempts at subterfuge no match for his all-seeing gaze.

The streets wound and meandered down the hill toward the sea, the guild district apparent from the scent of smoke and clanging of hammers. It took him only a quick glance inside the shop to know he was in the right place. The smith was older, noticeably so, and his ward had grown from a boy into a strapping young man, but he recognised them instantly.

"Show me your work, and I'll think about it."

Those words had changed everything for him once upon a time. Aulë’s smith had wanted nothing more than to craft beautiful things in that tiny forge, left alone to do his penance. Morgoth's shadow scoffed at the idea, now his plans were near fruition, but a tiny part of him wanted to save the beauty of the craft he'd seen in that tiny family-owned shop.

"Well, don't linger in the doorway, lad, come in, what can we do for you?" The smith's gruff voice rang out like a hammer on steel, jerking Sauron back to the present.

"Greetings, good sir, I don't suppose you remember me-"

"Nonsense! Halbrand, wasn't it? I thought you went across the sea? Shame that, you were one of the best apprentices I ever had, even if it were only for a few days."

Sauron grins at the indignant look on his apprentice's face.

"Only one of the best? I suppose I'll have to take that." Look at him, humble. It was possible.

"Well, the lad here gives you a run for your money, and if you'd stayed longer...? You haven't aged a day." The smith trails off as Sauron steps closer, the light from the furnace bouncing off his rugged face.

"Probably something in the water." He shrugs; bandying about pleasantries was not why he'd come all this way.

"Listen, I've heard there are boats leaving the island soon," he raises his eyebrows, "and it might not be a bad idea to get on one."

They look at each other, take a beat, then scoff, laughing at the idea of leaving paradise.

"Why would we want to do that, eh, lad? Me whole life is here, I'm an old man, I'm goin' nowhere." The old smith replies.

"Call it... a gut feeling, that Númenor is in danger. That perhaps the faithful are the rats leaving a sinking ship?"

Why is he doing this? In the back of his mind, he has to wonder what his true purpose is here. Certainly, the craftsmanship is superb, it would be a terrible shame to see it sink beneath the waves. Definitely nothing deeper than that, definitely not the vaguest notion of doing a man a good turn when he'd offered him the same, so very long ago.

The old smith seems unconvinced, exchanges a few more pleasantries, but the young man at his side seems more pliable.

"Good to see you again, Halbrand. If you don't get on one of them ships, come back and I'll see if I can throw some work your way." The smith laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

Sauron winces imperceptibly, the feeling of flesh on flesh so casually still a strange notion, even after all this time.

He nods and departs, waiting for the apprentice to run after him. He does so, predictably, and Sauron fixes his best surprised expression before turning around to greet him.

"What you said, about the boats? What do you know?" The lad asks, almost muttering to stay out of bounds of any prying ears.

"Just that they're leaving tonight and tomorrow, and that you should get on one." He gives him a knowing look, trying to impress upon him that he can't say what will happen, but that something will and it will be cataclysmic.

"I can't convince him to go, but folks have been talking for a while now, what with that new temple on high and the wizard in the palace, things are..."

"Precarious." Sauron finishes his sentence for him, nodding knowingly.

He had been responsible for a good many changes under Ar-Pharazôn's rule, the temple for Morgoth probably his crowning achievement. Of course it had set some of the common folk on edge, but that was a small price to pay for the hearts of a nation.

"I'll try and convince him." The lad finally replies, worry etched on his smoke-blackened face.

"Do. And don't fail."

Sauron leaves then, giving only a second glance to the young man still watching after him. He had tried. One good deed for another, after all. You'd be proud of him, he'd make sure of it.

Oh no. He stops in his tracks, infuriated at the mere thought of you. So that's what has him feeling sentimental.

He curses your name and makes his way back to the palace, taking in the sights of Númenor one more time. It would be any day now.

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter- Chapter 20

A/N: Chat, I am back. I really hope you enjoy this, It's severely overdue, but thank you all for staying with me on this!!!

Taglist:

@abbiesxox @n30n-j3lly @weird-katthing @kayoyamamegame @kroowonderemporium @astro-ghoul99 @darkravenqueen98 @gaylilangelbabyy @yuunnnaaaa @unicorngirly1 @noodlezz-bedo

Word count: 2k

Reader pov:

The following weeks are quite uneventful. We are sent on a few minor missions, all of which are successful, and are in a state of immense boredom. You almost want a war to break out at this point. But one late January day, your father calls everyone to the debriefing room. Anticipating a new mission, possibly one with more excitement, you and the 141 are practically bouncing on the balls of your feet with anticipation. One by one, you file in and sit down at the familiar long wooden table. knees bounce with expectation under the table.

Price walks in, everyone draws a breath.

Oddly, price has no folders in his hand, no loose papers, nothing. He walks in silently, clears his throat, sits at the head of the table and clasps his hands. He pauses before speaking.

"We're going to a wedding," he puts bluntly.

everyone exchanges confused glances.

"Well that was anticlimactic," Soap blurts.

Everyone breaks into chatter about the event before Price raises his hands to quiet the room.

"It's a good friend of mine, we served together. Names Bill,"

ohhhhh uncle Bill, you thought to yourself, happy for him and his soon-to-be wife.

Everyone nods and discusses the dress code, "Wait, wait, wait... am I going to have to wear a suit?" a voice from the corner of the room speaks up.

You turned toward the sound and saw Ghost, obviously peeved about having to dress up.

"Yes Ghost, your going to have to put on a suit," Your dad rolls his eyes.

The chatter continues as everyone files out of the room, the wedding was on for tomorrow evening, and you needed a dress. You contemplated returning home to get something out of your closet, but your overused sundresses just wouldn't cut it. You needed something flattering and mature.

That afternoon, you got permission to drive into the city to shop. The nearest mall was an hours drive from the base. Plugging your phone into the aux, you drowned out the hum of the road with an upbeat playlist for the drive.

You soon found yourself in a gorgeous, modern yet classy store. Elegant dresses lined the wall, from ballroom length to cocktail, there was no shortage of styles. Time, however, was of the essence. As you wandered aimlessly through the endless racks of dresses, an employee noticed your distress and walked over to introduce herself.

"Hey there! my names Georgia, how are you today?"

You give her a relieved smile. "Lost," you admit.

"Oh, happens to everyone, no worries. come with me, i'll get you measured and we'll find your perfect match!" Georgia says cheerfully.

She walks you over to an area near the fitting rooms, a plush ottoman and a soft rug are on the floor in front of a tall mirror. Georgia grabs her measuring tape and notes a few things.

"So, what occasion is this dress for?"

"A wedding, distant family friend."

She hums, "Okay so, like stunning... but like not steal the show stunning."

"Oh well I hardly think I could steal any of the spotlight from-"

Georgia cuts you off, "Nonsense! your absolutely enchanting!"

You give a weak smile at the complement as she goes and finds multiple dresses in various styles and colors. She goes through a quick but in depth fitting and analysis of each. Within the hour, you find one that you fall in love with. You can't help but grin as you look at the way the fabric showcases your body perfectly. You take it to the register and pay, bidding Georgia goodbye with a wave and a thank you.

That night, you do your best at an attempt to sleep. Your efforts remain futile as you toss and turn thinking of tomorrow. Catching up with old friends and family, dancing and drinking, but best of all...

Ghost gets to see you in a dress, The most flattering and gorgeous dress you've ever picked out. Finally, you find yourself drifting off slowly with those exciting thoughts.

-timeskip-

You arrive at the reception with your father, the rest of the group has their own rides. You try to let loose a little by grabbing a drink and catching up with friends and family, but you find yourself eyeing the door constantly, waiting for your masked comrade to walk in.

"Watching for danger eh? can't escape them habits the military drills into ya," The groom comes up behind you and ruffles your hair. You half smile and turn towards him.

"How ya been kid?" he asks.

The two of you chat for a few minutes before he goes off to find your father, you return to watching the door, thankful that he thought it was military instinct.

About an hour goes by and you down a few drinks, you were slightly buzzed but your mind was still clear. You still keep an eye on the door, waiting for Simon. You hardly notice when an old childhood friend of yours snakes an arm around your shoulder.

Startled, you flinch and raise your fist, but then you realize who it is and drop your arm awkwardly.

"Oh... uh... sorry Jake," you mumble.

"Ha! You musta had half a mind to think I was some kinda creep," Jake smirks and pulls you in for a hug. You try to pull away, but he has a vice-like grip around your shoulders.

You and Jake had been neighbors as kids, he was always over keeping you company after your mom left. The two of you had grown up like siblings, that's how you saw it at least...

Around your teenage years, you had started to experiment with boys a bit. Jake HATED all of your boyfriends. At first, it seemed like a protective older brother type thing, but after a while Jake got possessive. He followed you on dates, stalked the social media of all the boys you talked to, he scared people off and you hated it. This marked the beginning of the end of your friendship. Once you graduated and went to basic training, you talked to Jake less and less. Seeing him here was startling to say the least.

"Oh uh... yeah... didn't recognize you I guess," you said awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

You scanned the venue for a familiar face to start a conversation with so you could get away from Jake. He seemed to notice this and tilted your chin up so you were looking at him.

"You here with anyone," Jake asked.

"Just uh... my dad," you decided to leave the 141 out of it so Jake wouldn't get angry and try anything.

"Mhm, how about I buy you a drink then?" he suggested.

"Uhm no... I've got one already," you gestured with your half empty glass. plus, you wanted to keep a clear mind in case Jake tried anything.

The night went on and you finally broke off from Jake. You floated in-between conversations, still no sign of Ghost, but you had seen Gaz and Soap briefly. In the midst of your search for the Lieutenant, you found yourself on the dance floor. Unfortunately, Jake found you too.

"Ah, Y/N, thought I lost you there,"

You chuckled uncomfortably, trying to keep it polite. The song switched to a slow dance and Jake reached for your hand.

"Seeing you here has brought me back," he whispered in your ear. "You've matured since high school" He places his other hand on your waist and you try to wiggle away.

"Jake stop"

"Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners. May I have this dance?" He smirked.

"No. No you may not," You didn't know if it was the alcohol or not but you suddenly gained the courage to push him away, leaving all formalities behind.

"Y/N come on... we're made for each other, I know you better than anyone," Jake's voice grew more stern and threatening as he pulled you closer again.

"I...no...n-" your voice squeaked.

Suddenly, Jake's face turned pale, his eyes widened and you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"She's taken," Ghost says bluntly.

You are shocked at the turn of events and spin around to see Ghost, which causes you to fall a little off balance, but ghost places a strong hand on the small of your back to support you.

"I've gotcha, this prick won't bother you anymore," he says softly to you. His voice becomes more menacing when he faces Jake, "are we clear?"

The three words from Ghost are all it takes for Jake to give a quick nod and make his exit. Ghost gives a quick grunt "An old friend?"

"Yeah, something of the sort..." you breathe, watching him go.

Ghost clears his throat, "Sorry i'm late."

"It's no big deal, you came just in time."

"Yeah, just in time to dance with you."

Your heart rate quickens as you process his words. Is he joking? there's no way...

Soon enough, the two of you are whisked into the whirlwind of couples, Ghost dips and spins you with great care, as if you are a fragile porcelain doll. You've danced with men before, but this man makes you feel like a princess.

"You look gorgeous by the way," he says softly.

Okay, no way he's actually saying this, i'm dreaming.

"You look uh... good... er handsome yourself," you say breathlessly.

Come on liquid courage! do something other than make me tipsy!

You continue to move fluidly all over the floor, "You've got some experience I see," you joke.

"Mmh... maybe I just did my research beforehand," he smirked.

The song ends and the two of you take a seat. You take him in, his suit, which shows off his biceps and seems perfectly tailored to him. His balaclava, which he exchanged for a plain black one instead of skull print.

"You clean up nicely, trying to impress someone?" You say teasingly.

"I guess you could say that," he shrugs nonchalantly.

Now that's an answer you weren't expecting.

You sit in silence for a moment before Ghost speaks up. "That guy back there, was he trying anything on you?"

"To dance with me, yeah."

Ghost furrows his eyebrows, "and you know him?"

"Yeah... long story."

"Hm."

More silence follows until Ghost speaks again. "Seeing you with him, I didn't like that one bit," he looks straight ahead, not at you.

"Jealous?" you smirk.

"Yeah I uh... I guess you could say that," he sighs, still looking ahead.

Silence again

"You know what, fuck it," Ghost says slightly louder. "I didn't like seeing you with whatever his name was because I like you." he says matter-of-factly.

Your breath catches "I...I-you...me..."

he did not just say that

"I like you a lot and I couldn't give a fuck what our ranks are or who your father is, I just want... no, I NEED you to be mine," He continues.

"I...I uh... yes," You are embarrassed at how much of a nervous wreck you are right now.

"I'm taking that as a you like me back," Ghost says.

"Y-yes," you breathe.

You slowly get more comfortable as the night drags on, you never leave the side of your new boyfriend as the two of you bask in each other.

"All I want to do right now is dote on you and love you, show you my caring side," Ghost says at one point.

You giggle, "is the alcohol getting to you? Are you going to regret this in the morning?"

"Nope, completely sober, wouldn't want to forget this night with you."

The rest of the night is like a dream, you can't help but picture how the following days will be with this new relationship. hopefully this hangover won't be a smack in the face in the morning.

[rugsaustralia]

How to Choose the Perfect Jute Flatweave Rug For Your Living Room?

Are you looking to add a natural elegance to your living room? A jute flatweave rug might just be a perfect choice for you. With its earthy tones and durable texture, a jute flatweave rug can instantly transform your living space into a cozy and inviting haven. But how do you choose the perfect jute flatweave rug for your living room? With so many options available, buying jute flatweave rugs can feel overwhelming.

This guide will help you navigate the selection process and find the perfect jute rug to complement your living room.

Consider the size

The rug should ideally define the seating area, with the front legs of your furniture resting on it. For a visually balanced look, leave around 8-12 inches of exposed flooring around the rug’s perimeter.

Embrace the natural palette

Jute’s inherent beauty lies in its natural tones, ranging from light beige to warm brown. These neutral shades seamlessly blend with various color schemes, allowing your existing furniture and décor to take center stage.

Texture and functionality

Jute’s flatweave construction creates a low-profile rug that is easy to maintain and adds a touch of textural interest to your space. However, keep in mind that jute fiber can be slightly rough underfoot. Consider placing the rug in areas with moderate foot traffic, or layering it with a soft area rug for added comfort.

Durability

Living rooms are often high-traffic areas, so it’s crucial to select a jute rug that can withstand the wear and tear of daily use. Look for rugs with a tight weave and a thick pile, as these tend to be more durable and long-lasting.

By following these guidelines and exploring the options available at All Modern Rugs, you can find a jute flatweave rug that not only enhances the aesthetic appeal of your living room but also withstand the test of time.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Up North Minnesota Distressed Flannel.

Embrace the spirit of the North with our Up North Minnesota Distressed Flannel. This rugged yet stylish flannel shirt features a unique design that captures the essence of Minnesota's stunning landscapes and adventurous spirit. Crafted from soft, breathable fabric, it offers both comfort and durability for your outdoor escapades or cozy nights by the fire.

The distressed finish adds a touch of character, making each piece one-of-a-kind. With its classic plaid pattern and relaxed fit, this flannel is perfect for layering or wearing on its own. Whether you're exploring the great outdoors or enjoying a casual day in town, the Up North Minnesota Distressed Flannel is your go-to choice for style and comfort.

No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.

SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

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© 2018 All photography is intellectual property of Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations © and may not be used without express written permission from Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Welcome to Granny’s Store! We’ve got a fantastic selection of distressed flannels, cozy t-shirts, trendy tumblers, and so much more. Whether you’re looking for a laid-back outfit or a fun accessory, you’ll find something special here. Don’t forget to check out our seasonal items and unique finds that capture that charming, vintage vibe! Remember, Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations is that "hidden" gem with unique, great quality, fun, gorgeous, innovative, and inexpensive gifts for your Loved Ones or yourself for your next shopping trip!

[erugmaster]

Best rug shop near me in San Francisco | Rug shop in Oakland

Erugmaster.com Rug shop has one of the largest rug collections in San Francisco. We have an amazing collection of readymade rugs for sale near me in Oakland

[golden-internationallc]

What is better to use: A carpet or a rug?

Choosing between a carpet and a rug for your home can be a decision that significantly impacts the aesthetics, comfort, and functionality of your living space. Both options offer unique benefits, and the decision ultimately relies on you and your room's purpose.

Carpets, typically larger floor coverings that span the entire room, offer a seamless and cohesive look. They contribute to a unified design, creating a sense of continuity and warmth. Carpets come in a variety of materials, such as wool, nylon, and polyester, each with its own set of advantages. They are ideal for living rooms, bedrooms, and other areas where you want to create a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

On the other hand, rugs are smaller, versatile pieces that can be easily moved and repositioned. Rugs come in various shapes, sizes, and designs, allowing you to experiment with different styles and layouts in your home. They are particularly beneficial in spaces where you might want to define specific areas, such as under a dining table or in a reading nook. Rugs are also easier to clean and maintain since they can be taken outside for a good shake or even washed more conveniently than wall-to-wall carpets.

One key consideration when deciding between a carpet and a rug is the level of comfort you desire. Carpets, with their wall-to-wall coverage, provide an unmatched luxurious underfoot feel. They also offer better insulation, making them an excellent choice for bedrooms where you want to experience warmth and comfort when you step out of bed. Rugs, while still comfortable, may not provide the same level of plushness, especially in larger areas where they leave more exposed floors.

Maintenance is another crucial factor. Carpets require more extensive cleaning due to their size and fixed installation. Regular vacuuming, professional cleaning, and potential stain removal can be more challenging. Rugs, being smaller and more portable, are easier to clean. You can simply shake them out, spot clean, or even take them for professional cleaning without much hassle.

In conclusion, the choice between a carpet and a rug depends on your specific needs and preferences. Carpets offer a seamless and luxurious look, providing comfort and insulation throughout a room. Rugs, on the other hand, offer versatility, easy maintenance, and the ability to experiment with different designs. Consider the size of the space, the desired level of comfort, and the amount of maintenance you're willing to undertake when making your decision. Ultimately, both carpets and rugs have their own unique charm and can contribute to creating a stylish and comfortable home. Also, the quality of the carpets and rugs does matter a lot. Therefore, it's recommended always to buy the best carpets in India. You can decide about them via several means: by word-of-mouth, referral, or by online means.