#Handmade Rugs cleaning

[rugs-cleaning]

Stain Removal in Bridgewater & Warren | Rugs Cleaning New Jersey

Handmade rugs require extra care when it comes to removing stains without damaging the fibers and colors. At Rugs Cleaning New Jersey, we are the local experts for all types of rug cleaning needs, including stain and odor removal, in NJ.

[irprorugz]

If you live in Chilliwack BC and need your area rugs cleaned or restored to it original Beauty, call us at 604-316-7075

Visit our website at irpro.ca

[newsprovider102]

Hand Tufted Round Rug, Brown Color 7x7, for Living room, Hallway, Wool Rug, Geometric Carpet.

A hand-tufted round rug in a rich brown color measuring 7x7 feet can be an excellent addition to both living and dining rooms. This type of rug not only enhances the aesthetic appeal of a space but also provides comfort and warmth underfoot.

Buy Now

[samsorientalrugs]

Get the best Rug Cleaning Services with Sam's Oriental Rugs.

Sam Oriental Rugs offers professional Rug Cleaning Services in USA. Our expert team specializes in preserving the beauty and longevity of your beloved rugs with meticulous cleaning techniques and intricate repair work. If you need a cleaning services for your Turkish rugs or delicate repairs for your handmade Persian rugs, we have you covered. Trust Sam's Oriental Rugs for all your rug maintenance needs. You can contact us at: 1972-503-7500

[angelkhi]

santa's little helper - j.m

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: you get more than you bargained for being santa’s little helper.

warnings: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), thigh riding, fingering, dirty talk, some cursing, unprotected sex in an apocalypse (big dumb bitches), creampie (even bigger dumber bitches), pet names, age gap, low-key feral joel, a little bit of pining if you take off your glasses and squint. idk i’m writing this post crimbo dinner prep i’m tired.

word count: 2k

a little note: the logistics of when the breakout started and when the reader was born do not make sense but that is not my fault i'm not a scientist and i'm bad at math. anyways here's my singular christmas fic. to anyone that celebrates merry christmas, and to those who don't, have a lovely december 🫶🏾 (also not proofread i’m tired and it’s christmas)

Christmas is one of the few traditions kept alive in Jackson, with handmade paper decorations about the houses, small Christmas trees nursed to health with the help of Joel, children running around singing festive songs you'd missed for so many years. You felt truly alive for the first time in a long time.

Joel's smile is light, barely visible behind the beard curated from yarn, but you’re close enough to see his upturned lips. His eyes flick over your outfit, a green t-shirt turned dress, some striped tights and a stroke of damn near magic with long expired makeup transforming you into Santa’s little helper.

"Cute as a button." He mumbles. A steady stream of children enter the makeshift grotto and you don't get to enquire. Not that you would. Your whole body is ablaze with nervousness, Joel's comment striking deep, so deep in fact you probably could've foreign caking deep pink out of date blush to your cheeks. He’s one of the few good men left in this world, and his rugged looks are an added bonus, so it’s no wonder you keen for his approval.

The day goes off without a hitch, the smiles on the children's faces when they got to meet the Father Christmas, the endless amounts of crayon covered decorations each kid got to design, the supply of sugar cookies that dwindled far too quickly. You almost felt bad for the sugar rush their parents would have to deal with later on in the evening. But they wouldn’t care. It’s Christmas.

By the end of the night you’re beyond tired. A few stranglers help with some off he menial tidying, but you send them on their way, your morning plans of self indulgent cleaning spree at risk of being disrupted.

The town is quiet, but brightly lit when you lock the double doors, and you use the rare moment of peace and quiet to appreciate all that you’ve endured.

"Let me walk you home." You yelp quietly, the voice from the darkness unexpected. Though not unwelcome when you spy Joel's broad shoulder leaning against the old barn.

"You scared the shot out of me" You pause to catch your beating. He looks apologetic and for a moment you're worried you upset him "You don't have to do that."

"Walk you home or scare the shit out of you?" You chuckle.

"Not scaring the shit out of me would be nice, but you don’t have to walk me home Joel." In fact you can see your home from where you’re standing it’s so close.

"I know. I want to."

Joel fears that's about as close as hell get to a confession. He admired your normalcy in a world far beyond it. He admired you, albeit secretly.

The two of you walk in silence, until he’s walking up your porch stairs and you’re panicking about the once welcomed silence, filling it with an invitation into your home. He accepts with a quiet smile, taking in the festive lights and handcrafted decor.

You guide him through the small hallway into a tiny living room, filled with random trinkets and furniture that’s worse for wear. Its more homely than his humble abode, and it screams you, warm and inviting.

He leans back into the worn sofa, his legs spread. Even in the Santa Clause get up you're not sure how to place yourself. It's Joel Miller for heavens sakes. A part of him secretly enjoys your nervous energy as you hover in front of him, not sure what exactly to do with yourself.

"Here come sit." Joel pats the faded velour, "tell me what you want."

He suggested it without thinking, and of course you comply. You’d walk into a building full of infected if he asked. Something shifts when you find yourself in his lap, you wonder if he notices it too, the way the air in the room suddenly grew thicker filled with something you’re not sure you’d ever be brave enough to act on. Your palms grow clammy. Breathe.

Joel is dumbfounded at just how perfect you look in his lap. He’d keep you there forever if he could. His hands rest on your thighs, thumbs guiding a small driving small patterns into the striped tights. He dips his head low, trying to meet your downcast eyes.

“I want you Joel.” The admission has your cheeks tingling in slight embarrassment and an underlying fear of rejection.

"That's it sweet girl. Use your words and i'll give you anything you want."

Those hands slip beneath your dress, a wide palm cupping your warm cunt. He holds your gaze, watching and waiting.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“That so?” He hums, eyes raking over your almost innocent face, then down to where your hips meet his. Two fingers tap your thigh and a commanding ‘up’ is spoken. You raise your hips as he asks, you’d do anything he asked in that moment. Joel’s hands snake around the back of your thighs, pausing for a brief moment before gripping the scratchy tights and pulling with vigor. They split easily under the force, exposing you to him. He thumbs the edge of your panties for a moment, the small creases in his forehead deepening when he takes you in.

"Red lace? Where on earth did you get these?" His tone is light, punching through the heavy thickness in his throat and he tries to collect himself, just for a moment.

"I don't scavenge and tell Mr Miller." You chide playfully.

“Don't care where you got em from as long as I get to keep em."

"Then earn them." Joel smiles, not one to back down from a challenge, giving you a small and simple nod.

He’s so gentle when he places you on the sofa you’re lost for a moment, then he’s on his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs spreading you open. His thumb traces over the wet gusset of the almost transparent lace, a perfectly harsh pressure building when he rests on your clit. He doesn’t bother wasting time taking off the pretty underwear opting to pull them aside instead.

All of that sweetness, all of the hesitation flies out of the window when he finally catches a glimpse of you, so ready for him. Joel’s sharp tongue is sweeping against you in a bruising rhythm, nipping and sucking on your exposed clit. He’s impatient and determined, losing himself in how good you taste, showing no mercy when you grind yourself against him, gasping when your clit swipes against the soft bump of his nose. Your hands swipe through his salt and pepper waves, pulling him closer and he decides then that he’d happily die between your thighs. Your soft whimpers grow louder until they’re high pitched whines whilst you chase the orgasm he’s so desperate to give you.

“Fuck Joel.” Your fingers tighten around his soft hair, his rough fingers curling your weeping hole. All it takes is on hooked finger pressing up against that spot, one more soft drag of his tongue and you’re finished. Joel’s hips buck up at nothing when you cum on his face, making those pretty noises, hips clean off the couch cushions as you ride out your orgasm. But he doesn’t let up, fingers moving at a languid pace.

"Gimme one more. One more and i'll fuck your pretty cunt so good you'll feel me for days." Cocky bastard.

You’ve clearly lost all sense, because you nod like you have anything left to give.

He doesn’t stop, not until you’re thighs are practically shaking around his head, and you can barely keep your head on your shoulders. He looks so proud of himself when you find the energy to open your eyes. Like he could walk away untouched, your release giving him all the pleasure he needs.

He manoeuvres your pliant body back into his lap, hands cupping your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.

"I ain't gonna be sweet on ya." Lies. He's already more than sweet on you, half way to smitten and too much of a coward to confess. If he were one for making rash decisions he'd be on one knee begging you to marry him and making you cum on his face. Though he wouldn't need a rash decision for the latter.

"Don't want you to be soft on me Joel. Please." You grind your hips into his growing bulge, shuddering breaths drowning out your weak plea. You make quick work of pulling down the handmade red trousers, hesitating only for a moment when your fingers rest on the waistband of his boxer shorts.

Joel’s chest heaves a little when your soft hands grip him, dragging the shiny pink head of his cock against your wet cunt, slipping him into your sopping hole with ease.

“That’s it. Take what you need.” He rests a guiding hand on your hip, until your flush against him, taking him to the hilt.

“So good for me.” This man and his fucking mouth.

He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you and claiming you all at once. His lips are surprisingly soft, a heavy contrast to the way he’s gripping your hips, pulling you flush against him. It’s not lost on you that he’s doing all the work but there’s not a single thought left in your head, just Joel and how he feels and sounds.

"Got you nice and full don't I?" You try to speak, honestly you do, but all that comes out is a pathetic whine. "Too fucked out to speak. Look at ya', so perfect all for me."

There is nothing that could pry you away from each other in that moment, your panting breaths, the slight tinge of sweat, burnt sugar and pine in the air. Joel's illicit grunts and your soft screams.

He finds some restraint and pauses, somehow placing you flat on your back, the soft couch cushions moulding around your body, worn out springs creaking beneath the weight of you both.

He cages you in, relishing as you practically melt into the worn leather sofa. His fingers hook under your knee, lifting your thigh higher, the small amount of strain forgotten when he sinks back into you hard and deep.

He takes almost as much as he gives, driving his hips in a harsh rhythm chasing his release, watching the way your body responds to him. Pretty lips parted, eyes closed so tight, pussy clenching around him. Nothing will ever feel this good. Joel thumbs at your clit once again, and he completely surrounds you. He’s so deep you can just about breathe, his deep grunts and guttural moans floating about your once boring living room.

He gives you your third orgasm of the evening, and you feel everything but nothing all at once. There’s nothing but him and you and the knowing that you’d never felt this good before and nothing would ever come close again. His thrusts are relentless, your wet cunt clenching around him sending him over that perfect ledge. Your name is the only thing on his lips when he cums so deep, you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. He’s completely still, muscles taught goading himself through his orgasm, the feeling nothing short of euphoric.

Joel’s hands find your face again, that softness ever present and he melts into your body, your lips.

“Honey you with me?" He asks after a short moment, his voice hoarse. You nod at first, but he’s looking for words, words you’re struggling to find with what little bit of energy you have left.

"I'm with you. Seeing fucking stars but i'm with you." Joel's shoulders grow less tense at your reassurance. He nods, calloused fingers exploring your cool skin all over again. You gasp in unison when he slips out of you, tucking himself into his boxers and pulling your panties back into place.

"So. Did I earn my keep?" The elastic twangs against your skin and the pair of you share a breathy laugh.

"Sure did. I'm all about giving, in the spirit of christmas of course." He smiles, more triumphant than cocky, though it morphs into a look of pure determination when you speak again.

"Did I mention I have them in black too?"

[devilevlls]

hello! I just found your blog but i really like your style of writing!!! May i please request 16 with The Mammon?? Thank you in advance i hope you have had an amazing day!! 🪷 anon

Heey! Thank you for the support <3

And thanks for the request, here is the quick drabble with the prompt! I hope you like it. 💛

Why is there glitter everywhere?˚ ⋆｡˚

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

As Mammon clumsily attempted to craft a handmade gift for MC, his room descended into chaos. Glitter cascaded from the air like a sparkling snowstorm, coating every surface in a shimmering layer. Pieces of paper littered the floor, some torn, others crumpled in frustration. Amidst the disarray, Mammon himself was a sight to behold, sitting on the rug with glitter adorning his face as he probably scratched his cheeks with dirty fingers.

Just as Mammon played with another colorful piece of paper, MC entered the room, a small tray of snacks in hand for their movie night. Their eyes widened in surprise at the scene before them, taking in the glittery spectacle with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Mammon, what in the realms are you doing? Why is there glitter everywhere?" MC exclaimed, unable to contain their laughter at the sight of “the great Mammon” covered in a chaotic mess of glitter and paint.

Mammon froze, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he hurried to gather his scattered supplies, trying to hide the final gift. "Uh, well, ya see, I was tryin' to make ya somethin' special," he admitted sheepishly, avoiding their gaze as he attempted to salvage what remained.

Despite the chaos and the inevitable mess, MC couldn't help but feel touched by Mammon's efforts, he may be clumsy, but it was lighthearted. With a fond smile, they set down the snacks and crossed the room to where Mammon stood, reaching out to gently wipe away a streak of glitter from his cheek gently.

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble, Mammon," the human said softly, their tone filled with affection. "But I appreciate the gesture. Let's clean up together, okay?" And with that, they set to work, turning what could have been a disaster into a moment of shared laughter and camaraderie. Despite his attempts to defend himself, Mammon couldn’t help but growl playfully as MC teased him about being covered in glitter.

Drabble prompts you can use in your requests!

[theamityelf]

I really want Sonia, Akane, and Gundham to share an apartment, after they graduate Hope's Peak.

Sonia could just move them both into her palace, but they all prefer to live like normal people, so they get a regular place, and she does not accept an allowance from Novoselic. If she brings in money, she does it selling creepy handmade stuffed animals or starting a YouTube channel or almost-literally anything that doesn't directly rely on her royal status.

As far as apartment chores, Sonia cooks, Gundham cleans, and Akane shops. Akane brings in prize money and sponsor money from her gymnastics, Gundham brings in money from breeding and pet-sitting, and Sonia I imagine having a handful of side-hustles. (Also, Sonia would absolutely be someone to win TV trivia contests and the like, so she's often winning gift cards to restaurants they can all go to, on dates.)

It's a three-bedroom apartment, but they share one room; one is for guests; and one is a pet sanctuary. They shop for furniture and decor together. There's a lot of dark purple in the curtains and rugs and light colors in the upholstery of loveseats and chairs. Pull-up bars in every doorway; they all use them. Also, sometimes parakeets perch on them.

Sonia keeps ice packs ready in the freezer, for when Akane comes home sore or injured.

They have monogrammed towels in the bathroom that read "Supreme Overlord of Ice", "Lady of Darkness", and "Lady of the Bloodstained Fields".

The hamsters are always there, but there will also be temporary dogs, cats, rabbits, birds, etc. Both Sonia and Akane take this in stride; if Gundham forgets a snake on the couch, he'll shortly hear Akane call out, "Snake on the couch; cool if I move it?" or walk back into the room to see Sonia wearing it like a boa.

At any given time, two or three of Akane's younger siblings might be crashing there, if they've been missing Akane or their parents have disappeared on them. Sonia loves them. When they start calling her "Big Sis Sonia", she feels so honored. Gundham introduces them to whatever animals he has on hand that don't bite.

Akane and Gundham gradually learn Sonia's language. (Akane starts picking it up inadvertently, just from overhearing Sonia on the phone, and when Sonia realizes that Akane has picked up an impressive amount of phrases from her, she asks if either of them want to know more.)

They have "house rules", but those are pretty much just for when their classmates visit, because they've learned the hard way that Ibuki will scare the animals if they let her bring her guitar, Kazuichi will fix everything regardless of whether it's actually broken, and Nekomaru, left unchecked, will clog the toilets and leave them like that. He's a frequent visitor. Whenever Nagito is about to visit, they try to luck-proof the whole place, but it doesn't work. When Chiaki comes to visit, they know to have the guest room ready for when she inevitably falls asleep.

They grow pumpkins on the balcony.

[fanficfanatic000]

(Handmade for me) E.M.6

Eddie Munson x best friend plus sized reader

18+ don't read if a minor

Trigger warning ( read if you dare )

Summary Reader is a plus sized young adult female Who lived in Hawkins her whole life was a outcast in school only has three friends Robin. Steve and eddie. But your best friend is eddie munson. Just your friend right???...You work at a bar as a bartender usually serving drinks from rugged bikers to just turned twenty one first drinkers... until that night.... when it all when wrong......

"He gulps "it was meant for you..." his eyes dropped to the floor and his face fell even more.. he wrote that for you not her....."I know we are friends but i just wanted to tell you for so long even when you dont feel the same...." You Not Feel The Same?Yeah right... "Eddie i-i do feel that way.. you've been driving me fucking craz–"He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you against him facing you. His eyes on your lips "can i kiss you?" You crashed your lips to his. His taste intoxicating and sweet You pull back realizing he smells like weed "whats wrong y/n?" He looks for an answer "eddie are you high?" His blown pupils looking at you "No‐" he says no but all signs pointing to yes makes you think otherwise "i should get home..." You run from his grasp but he followed you and wouldn't leave.. "i-mm not high princess!" He pleaded you stop and give him the all knowing look "really you eddie not high at all.." "no not a bit not at all"You still can't believe him not when he has a girl like her to like him.. "you eddie have the perfect girl in you're palm but wants me i Know you're fucking high... or drunk!!"Tears filling your eyes.. your voice breaking a little "y/n that girl is some random i invited because my band needs some fans so i told her about tonight and... im not high at all i havent been for days... and what makes you think you're not what i want?" He asked... "e–ddie look at me im not thin im not a normal girl.....how could you want this..." he grabbed your hands and brought them to his mouth to kiss them softly "your not thin but thin doesn't mean perfect or beautiful or pretty thin just fucking means thin and yeah you're not normal your like a fucking alien thats way to perfect to be here. And how could i want you? Well lets see.. you're like a song a song i could listen to over and over without getting tired or annoyed just a perfect harmony... made for me...hand fucking crafted just... for... me" and like that you were convinced almost "then why are your pupils blown out?" He smirked "well it could be because of a certain thing you're wearing......" his eyes go to your red tank top "i always make sure that if you're making me kinda turned on...i get high.... so you wouldn't think anything of it.... " he blushed red "wait you got high to hide the fact that your eyes do..... that!?" He nodded "but it definitely makes it harder to hide some thoughts...." Your mind blips back -i know im high i just want this.- "edward you sly dog!" You loved it though you really doHe grabs you and kissed you harshly. "Hehe i should help clean up the stage but one more " he grabbed you and kissed you softly and slow then he began to walk to the stage you noticed red familiar underwear in his back pocket "EdWard are those mine!?" His face red as he pushed them back in his pocket

"Welp you're mine now princess"

Eddie the sly dog 😏

The end hope you enjoyed comment what you thought

[bledastray]

🩸 ︰ # BASIC

name : rafael luis cordero. nicknames : rafe. date of birth : december 2nd 1996. place of birth : mexico city, mexico. ethnicity : mexican. age : twenty7. gender : cis man. sexuality : homosexual. divine parent : huitzilopochtli. god of the sun, war, bloodletting and sacrifice. mother : selena cordero, cult member. education : high school diploma. occupation : former cult member and butcher.

🩸 ︰ # PHYSICAL

hair and eye color : raven  black  hair.  dark  brown  eyes. height and build : six feet, two inches tall. athletic build with lean musculature. dominant hand : left. tattoos : a tattoo of a crimson sun, the symbol of la sangre del sol, the cult he was he was born and raised in. scars : none notable, a few cuts from blood rituals. clothing style : a very limited wardrobe of hand-me-downs and handmade clothes. prefers comfort over aesthetics, and often wears rugged, worn-in crop tops with bloodstains that are impossible to fully wash out. also has polo and sleeveless shirts that feature sun motifs or fire-like patterns, but with more subdued or tarnished hues, such as faded golds, rusty reds, and deep burgundies. also favors sturdy, practical pants — cargo or leather — that allow freedom of movement while providing protection, some with small stains and worn spots from his past work. but if he's not going out or doing anything extensive, rafael does not like to wear anything at all.

🩸 ︰ # PSYCHE

mbti : estj —  the  executive.    enneagram :   3w2  —  the  enchanter. moral alignment : chaotic  neutral. astrological placements : sagittarius sun, scorpio moon, aries rising. personality : values efficiency and order, preferring clear and defined roles in relationships and life. motivated by achievement, rewards and validation, with the desire to be liked, to be seen as valuable, and to connect — albeit on his terms. he may appear outgoing and friendly, but it's always a means to an end. strategic, calculating, and protective of those he deems loyal while also seeking constant validation through achievements or seduction. desensitized to violence after growing up in a cult that believed in blood sacrifices to sustain the sun and maintain plentiful fertile crops. capable of killing without hesitation if it serves a purpose, especially with his role as a butcher desensitizing him further, turning ritualistic violence into a task that needs to be done efficiently. given the cult’s emphasis on bodily sacrifice and physical rituals, has an internalized sense of power through the body. uses sexuality as a way to assert control and gain validation. charming and seductive, often relying on physicality rather than emotional intimacy because it’s easier to navigate. sex as transactional — a way to get others to value or want him without having to open up emotionally. craves recognition, but fears the vulnerability that comes with true intimacy. habits : strict daily rituals including praying to the sun, as well as grooming and morning preparations. daily exercise to keep top physical shape. polishing tools and weapons, keeping them sharp and clean. subconsciously checking out people's veins. compulsively fixes and arranges objects around him, especially when he’s anxious or feels out of control. quirks : drawn to the color red, often commenting on or admiring red objects or clothing on others. taps his fingers rhythmically when he's thinking or bored, sometimes mimicking the pulse of blood flow. smirking at people in a flirtatious way, almost like a default expression. does not like wearing socks or underwear, finds them restrictive. when in conversation, his eyes may flicker to a person’s neck, fascinated by the blood flowing underneath the skin. often pauses in the doorway as if assessing the space, people, and the flow of energy. hobbies : collects various blades, from ritualistic knives to butcher tools, admiring their craftsmanship. takes pride in cooking, especially working with meat, creating elaborate dishes. his background as a butcher and control over blood makes him naturally interested in anatomy, spending time studying books or models of human and animal bodies. from a self-sustaining cult, he also likes gardening and growing his own ingredients. carves small sculptures out of wood or bone, enjoying the intricacy and precision needed.

[irprorugz]

I love taking about my day or the technical aspects of cleaning area rugs in my cleaning facility in Chilliwack while recording footage. But, sometimes I just like to immerse myself in cleaning the area rug and not talk at all.

When those days happen and I’m recording, there is something beautiful that gets captured…Sounds.

This was one of those days.

Enjoy 😁

[adipolicleaners]

How Often Should You Schedule Professional Rug Cleaning Services?

Searching for a reliable couch cleaner near me? Our local experts provide top-notch couch cleaning services, eliminating stains, dust mites, and allergens. To remove urine stains, feel free to contact mattress cleaning services in Queensland for a thorough and effective clean.

Our professional curtain cleaning services in Queensland ensure your drapes and curtains are free from dust, allergens, and stains. We use eco-friendly products to preserve fabric quality while delivering a fresh, clean look to your home or office.

Revitalize your rugs with our expert rug cleaning services in Queensland. Learn about the latest techniques, eco-friendly products, and special offers available to keep your carpets looking new and feeling soft underfoot. Say goodbye to dirty carpets and hello to a fresher, healthier home.

[clean-bubbles-aka-bubbles]

Cabin Inn

As the car rumbled along the road, the only sound was the crunch of gravel under the tires and the occasional soft groan from Bubbles in the backseat. Mark drove with a palpable tension, his eyes scanning the dark woods for any sign of trouble. Cesar sat beside him, his worried expression deepening with each passing moment.

The isolation of the drive gave Bubbles time to reflect. The physical pain was one thing—a constant, throbbing reminder of the night’s events—but it was the emotional and mental strain that weighed heaviest on her. The secret she guarded so fiercely, the identity of the Celestial Artisan, felt like a growing burden, one that threatened to expose itself with every encounter with the Alternates.

When they finally arrived at the cabin, the first hints of dawn were creeping over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of soft pink and blue. Mark’s Hispanic friend quickly unlocked the door, and the three stepped in.

The decor embodies the quintessence of rustic charm blended with touches of '90s flair. The trio were greeted by a warm and inviting atmosphere, illuminated by the soft glow of a wood-burning stove in the corner, crackling gently.

The living area features a comfortable, slightly worn sofa adorned with plaid throws and mismatched cushions that add a homely touch. Nearby, a large, hand-knotted wool rug in earth tones anchors the space, inviting anyone to relax by the hearth. The walls, paneled in knotty pine, are adorned with framed landscape paintings and vintage skiing posters reminiscent of the era.

A heavy, wooden coffee table sits in the middle of the room, its surface bearing the patina of years of use, perhaps scattered with a few magazines from the '90s, like issues of "National Geographic" or "Outdoor Life." Nearby, a bookshelf overflows with a mix of classic literature and popular novels from the decade, along with board games and a cassette tape collection featuring grunge and pop hits.

The kitchen is simple yet functional, with aged copper pots hanging from a handcrafted pot rack. The countertops, perhaps a bit dated, are covered in laminate that mimics the look of natural stone. They show signs of wear but are clean and well-maintained. The pine cabinets match the wall paneling, and an old, chunky microwave sits next to a spice rack filled with dried herbs and spices.

A small dining area features a round wooden table and chairs, each chair cushion covered in a floral fabric that was trendy at the time. Overhead, a wrought iron chandelier provides soft lighting, enhancing the cabin's rustic ambiance.

The bedrooms continue the theme down a narrow hallway with cozy plaid-patterned flannel bedding, handmade quilts, and thick woolen blankets. The furniture is sturdy and wood-made, with vintage brass lamps on the nightstands casting a warm glow.

The cabin's windows are covered in handmade curtains, perhaps a bit faded but clean. These curtains offer views of the surrounding woods and let in natural light that plays across the cabin's nostalgic interior.

"Wow... DAMN! I didn't know your guys' cabin you two own was nice!" Bubbles’s eyes sparkled in awe. “So much for living in 2024. It looks really nice to live in here.” She thought. “Ack–!” She winced again, feeling sharp pain shooting on her side.

Mark immediately went to the bathroom to gather medical supplies while Cesar filled a basin with warm water and grabbed some towels. They returned to Bubbles’ side and cleaned her wounds with gentle, efficient movements.

"You're good at this," Bubbles commented, trying to mask her pain with a weak smile as she observed her Hispanic friend handle the cloth.

"I've had some practice," the Hispanic male replied in a low voice. “I used to help my mom with her garden injuries while tending to our roses. I never thought I'd be doing this under such different circumstances."

The brown-haired teen rummaged through a first aid kit they found in a cabinet, pulling out some antiseptic and bandages. "This might sting a bit," Mark warned before carefully applying the antiseptic.

Bubbles tensed, her breath hitching as the solution touched her wound, but she bit her lip and bore it. "Thanks," she breathed out once Cesar began to bandage her up more professionally than she would have expected.

As they tended to her, the silence was heavy with unspoken questions and concerns. Finally, Mark broke it, his voice filled with unwavering support.

"Bubbles, you know you can trust us, right?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm. "Whatever is going on, whatever you're hiding... we're here for you, no matter what."

Bubbles looked up at them, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and fear. She took a deep breath, considering her following words carefully.

"I know," she replied softly. "And I appreciate it more than you can know. It's just... complicated."

Cesar nodded, dabbing at a particularly nasty cut. "We get it. But seeing you out there tonight and the way you handled everything... You’ve almost got yourself killed!"

Bubbles chuckled weakly. "Understatement of the year." 

“Don’t wave it off!” The Hispanic friend scolded her. “You’re always putting yourself in a situation that scares us when you almost die every time! It’s not funny! ¿¡Lo entiendes!?”

"Sí, lo sé." She rolled her eyes slightly.

Mark placed a reassuring hand on Bubbles' shoulder, his expression serious. "We care about you, Bubbles. We don't want to lose you. So please, promise us you'll be more careful next time."

Bubbles nodded, her gaze meeting Mark's with sincerity. "I promise. I'll do everything in my power to keep us safe. But you have to promise me something, too."

Cesar and Mark exchanged a glance, their expressions curious. "What's that?" Mark asked.

Bubbles took a deep breath, steeling herself in case she had to do a reveal. "Promise me that you'll trust me no matter what happens. Even if things seem impossible or I make decisions you don't understand. Promise me you'll trust that I'm doing what's best for all of us."

There was a moment of silence as her words hung in the air, the weight of their implications sinking in. Mark and Cesar shared a look before turning back to Bubbles, determination shining in their eyes.

.

.

"We promise,"

.

.

they said in unison, their voices filled with conviction.

With that assurance, Bubbles felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She knew she couldn't do this alone, and having her friends' trust and support meant everything to her.

“Let’s rest for the night,” Cesar said, rising from his sofa seat. “We can worry about the sigil cards later. Bubbles can explain it to us in the morning since she knows how it works.” He nodded. 

Mark nodded in agreement, his gaze softening as he looked at Bubbles. "Yeah, rest is what you need right now. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow." He helped her to her feet, supporting her as they walked towards one of the bedrooms.

The cabin, with its warm wooden walls and the comforting crackle of the fire, felt like a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. Bubbles felt the tension start to ease from her shoulders as they entered the cozy bedroom, its rustic charm underscored by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

Cesar pulled back the covers on the bed, fluffing the pillows before turning to Bubbles. "Get some sleep. We'll be right here if you need anything," he assured her, his tone protective.

Bubbles managed a small smile, grateful for their care and concern. "Thank you, both of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

As she settled into the bed, the soft mattress comforting against her bruised body, she felt a sense of peace envelop her. The weight of her secrets and the burden of her responsibilities were still there, but for now, she allowed herself the luxury of rest, surrounded by the quiet strength of her friends.

Mark lingered for a moment, watching her with a thoughtful expression. "Goodnight, Bubbles," he said softly before leaving the room with Cesar.

Once they were back in the living area, Cesar looked at Mark, a concerned frown creasing his brow. "Do you think she's telling us everything?" he asked quietly.

Mark sighed, sinking into an armchair by the fire. "I don't know, man. But I do know she's under a lot of pressure. Whatever she's holding back, I'm sure she has her reasons. We just need to be there for her, no matter what."

Cesar nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. "Yeah. We stick together. That's how we'll get through this."

They sat silently for a moment, the crackle of the fire filling the space between them. Both were lost in their thoughts, pondering the complexities of their situation and the mysterious entity known as the Celestial Artisan. The night deepened around them, and the dark woods outside the cabin whispered their own secrets.

Back in the bedroom, Bubbles drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams a whirlwind of shadowy figures and echoing voices. She was haunted by the Perpetrator's words, the implications of her own power, and the unknown challenges that lay ahead. Yet, amidst the tumult of her subconscious, a steadfast resolve formed. She would protect her friends, come what may. She was the Celestial Artisan, whether acknowledged or hidden, and she bore the weight of that mantle with a fierce determination.

Morning would come, bringing with it the need for decisions and actions. But for now, in the heart of the night, Bubbles and her friends found a semblance of peace in the solidarity of their bond, the quiet strength of their unity offering a shield against the darkness outside.

[samsorientalrugs]

Handmade Persian Rugs Repair with Sam Oriental Rugs

Sam's Oriental Rugs offers expert repair services for Handmade Persian rugs repair in USA. Our team of professionals can restore your rug's beauty and value with our expert care and attention to detail. We use the best materials and techniques to repair your rug, ensuring it looks and feels like new. Contact us today to learn more about our rug repair services. For any query You can consult with us at. 1972-503-7500

[moroccanlooms]

Beni ourain Rug displays the simplest of motifs, this Moroccan Rug is a wonderful example of tribal weaving.

With striped large flatweave protective borders frame the composition and flatwoven pattern. This moroccan rug is handwoven by berber women with ivory wool and light beige wool. Soft underfoot and medium pile. Shipped from Morocco. It’s new, berber and moroccan. handmade by berber women from beniourain tribe.

Because the rug is new it may shed and it’s completely normal and will stop within a couple of weeks. For cleaning, we recommend a regular vacuum cleaning, we highly recommend dry clean ( we don't recommend steam cleaning, because the hot steam could cause some damages on the wool). From time to time, you can expose the rug to direct sunlight in a sunny day.

Size: ( 243cm x 158cm ) ( 95.6" x 62.2" inches ) ( 7.97ft x 5.18ft )

Also, don't forget to follow us on Instagram to keep up to date with our latest rugs, plus, see how we weave, clean, treat… our rugs! Find us: @moroccanlooms

[warmlyhome]

Irregular Shape Rug Modern Geometric Asymmetrical Contemporary Area Handmade Carpets

Welcome to Warmly Home! Awesome Irregular Shape Rug! Online Rug Store with Excellent Service! New Design, New Trends, and New Ideas! Interior Design Inspiration and Home Decor Items! Enjoy your online shopping time!   Product: Irregular Shape Rug Feature: Durable and Easy To Clean Style: Creative Odd Shaped Design Technique: Power Loom, Hand-Made Gun-Tufted Construction: Machine-Made,…