#home stagers near me

[astrastaging]

Staging Services and Your Bottom Line: How Staging Impacts the Sale Price

When it comes to selling your home, first impressions matter more than you might think. That's where professional staging services come into play. In this blog, we'll explore the world of staging services and how they can significantly impact your sale price.

The Power of Presentation

Imagine walking into a home that's beautifully arranged where each room feels inviting and well put together. The furniture is carefully selected, the decor is on point, and there's a sense of harmony throughout. This is the magic of home staging.

Staging Services Unveiled

It involves the art of transforming a property into a visually appealing, market-ready space. Professional stagers use their expertise to arrange furniture, decor, and even lighting to make your home shine. Their goal? To showcase your property's full potential.

The Psychology of Home Buyers

Buyers are often swayed by emotion when making a decision about a home. Staging taps into this psychology by creating an environment that resonates with potential buyers. It allows them to envision themselves living in the space, fostering a deeper connection to your property.

A Competitive Edge

In a crowded real estate market, standing out is crucial. Staged homes not only attract more potential buyers but also tend to sell faster. This can translate into significant savings in carrying costs and ultimately a higher sale price.

Staging Variations: Vacant vs. Occupied Homes

Staging services come in various forms, catering to both vacant and occupied homes. For vacant properties, stagers bring in all the necessary furniture and decor. In occupied homes, they work with your existing furnishings, rearranging and accessorizing to create a polished look.

Return on Investment

Many sellers wonder if staging is worth the investment. Numerous studies have shown that staged homes tend to sell for a higher price than their non-staged counterparts. The cost of staging is often a fraction of the potential return, making it a sound financial decision.

Finding the Right Staging Partner

Choosing the right staging professional is crucial. Look for a stager with a proven track record, and don't hesitate to ask for references or examples of their work. A skilled stager will tailor their services to your property, ensuring it appeals to your target market.

Conclusion

In the world of real estate, staging services are a valuable tool that can elevate your sale price and shorten your time on the market. The investment in staging is an investment in your property's presentation and, ultimately, your bottom line.

Remember, the art of home staging is about more than just decorating; it's about selling a dream and making your property irresistible to potential buyers. So, when you're ready to sell your home, consider the transformative power of staging services. You may find that it's the key to unlocking your property's full potential.

[holmestage]

Website : http://holmestage.com/

Address : 6320 CA-27, ste 1630, Woodland Hills, CA 91367

Phone : +1 818-646-8285

Home Staging by HolmeStage offers a specialized service to transform your property into a highly marketable and attractive home for potential buyers. Our expert team understands the art of first impressions, utilizing a combination of design techniques, furniture arrangement, and décor enhancements to showcase the best features of your home. Whether you're a real estate agent looking to increase property value or a homeowner seeking a quick sale, our staging strategies are tailored to your unique needs. Home Staging by HolmeStage focuses on creating inviting, functional spaces that appeal to a wide range of buyers, ensuring your property stands out in the competitive real estate market.

[the-firebird69]

⚠️ He Hid From The FBI In A Bunker - Part 1

This is John rima Lord and his underground bunker he is a loser and we saw what he did and when he tried to go out there and he was trying to set off bombs. And he was going there after he set the timer and nothing happened he tried several times and he did not succeed and then he would try and put one inside his bunker and that's what he does so the boob is trying to put them here and he is not succeeding and he's getting beat up very badly and he's trying to do it all the time practically and his people are coming here with parts to bombs and he's trying to assemble them here and he keeps saying it won't let me do it my way and stuff like this everything we never do and we shouldn't and but he says it's very annoying how it says it is extremely annoying

So we're going after him and we're going to take him down permanently because he say anything to annoy Us

Thor Freya

Olympus

I don't know why you think you can do these things Dave stager but you're going to die because you're doing them you're annoying me you're next door you shouldn't be your kid and killed every day you're an embarrassment to your clan and you send an example and they get slaughtered because of you if you can try and set bombs a****** you f****** moron people can employ you up and that would be us we know where to blow you up because you tried and we don't care if it's nearest with an air blow the s*** out of you and your stuff and you won't get anybody because you'll be dead and we're also going to run the program so you can be talk to me Manhattan and you can go over blue give me blue and you'll be disintegrated just like the note says don't go to Manhattan you can't go there but you don't I heard you're not going there not even near it I'm poor Dave next door is such a conniption and others went to Asia and when he went to the Chinese food place he was in hell you can see it too stress and strain on his face because it was like Tyler Thailand but yeah don't go there to Manhattan dumb f*** you're a stupid f*** aren't you come on Sam next door you're stupid f*** you're born stupid and now you're very stupid. Sorry to have you killed Sam because you're a useless prick and I don't want you here I never did you're forced your way here and you put me here so you're f****** dead you don't care that you're dying is good

Zues

And yeah you're stupid Trump I was over your house the other day the one up in New Hampshire cuz you mentioned it and started saying all the stupid s*** I didn't find anything yet so you're talking about so I went through and took everything out of there everything and we look down below and we found a network of tunnels where you were going after people up there and say we'll see the lake moosehead lake we saw all your tunnels and where they went and to what houses and we know who was gone and their famous people and they had a lot of money and about 50% were Max and 20% of where your race and 20% were other and none of us and we have recorded who you're killing and who you're after we know who survived and it's family who wants you dead and we have information about what you were doing and it all came out after I went up there with my husband tons of people and information I found in your house is he you'll see it right what would tell you is to shut your face and to get the f*** out of here and you won't and we have information about you out here the same way when you're sitting here harassing my husband I went into your houses and I have information on each and every murder that you committed here and punta Gloria and the stuff you took and where you put it and there's a lot of stuff I can't resist taking I'm really sorry about that no no we're taking it and there's some classic cars You tooke from us and we took them back. And we know where the firebird is and that's coming home because nobody gives a s*** anymore and I'll see now here you're all senile here click this wonderful piece of crap that guy's s*** now your house too Dan AKA Dave we haven't in jail for hundreds of years you don't care and all this and he says don't stop him we need to drop that stuff in like it's hard and boy we got to get it out of here because it's hot he says these guys are pissed we need to release it you don't care Trump is what you're saying so we're starting to release it now

Hera aka Jen that went to westboro too cuz we want that cash I don't want to lose their cash for I don't want to use jackasses I'm sick of chasing you around you're so f****** dumb I have beat on you Dan for like half an hour I could have blow your head off nobody would ever know Kept asking can I take the shot they said no there's stuff in the way. So keep blabbing what do these days you're going to be gone and that's it. Every time one of you idiot Trump bothers him we are going to release some and understand snipers after you two dead shits

[lovittbydesign]

Home Staging Excellence: Transforming Houses into Homes

Tailored Solutions- Every property is unique. This is why our expert stagers offer fully customized design staging solutions that can cater to the style, size and target market of your home. Be it an apartment or a home or a luxury estate, we have got you covered.Looking for the best home staging companies near me? Welcome to Love It Design, where we turn vacant houses into warm, appealing homes that draw the attention of buyers and sell faster. Our professionals have the passion for design and an eye for detail. We are committed to enhancing the potential of your property. You can trust our expert team for the best home staging process. for more information you can visit our website : https://lovittbydesign.com/services/design-home-staging.

Also here contact details : Email id - lovittbydesign@gmail.com

call us at :  (734) 807-9896

[rameshvermasblog]

Discovering Home in Calgary SW: Realtors' Expertise Unveiled

Exploring real estate in Calgary's Southwest region can be an exciting venture due to its diverse neighborhoods, amenities, and unique housing options. When it comes to navigating this market, Realtors Calgary SW and realtors play a pivotal role in unveiling the expertise needed for discovering your ideal home. Here's how real estate professionals can assist in your journey:

Local Market Knowledge: Realtors specializing in Calgary's Southwest possess in-depth knowledge about the area. They understand neighborhood dynamics, property values, market trends, and future developments, providing valuable insights for buyers.

Property Matching: Realtors work to comprehend your needs, preferences, and budget to match you with suitable properties. Whether you're searching for a family-friendly community, luxury homes, condos, or specific amenities, they can narrow down options accordingly.

Negotiation Skills: Experienced real estate agents excel in negotiations, advocating for your best interests. They can secure favorable deals, negotiate prices, and navigate complex contracts, ensuring you get the best value for your investment.

Network and Resources: Realtors have access to a network of industry professionals, from mortgage brokers and inspectors to home stagers. Leveraging these connections can streamline the buying process and ensure a smooth transaction.

Legal and Procedural Guidance: Real estate transactions involve intricate legal procedures. Realtors guide you through paperwork, contracts, and legal requirements, minimizing potential hurdles and ensuring a seamless buying experience.

Insider Information: They often have insider information about off-market or upcoming listings, giving you an advantage in finding properties before they hit the public market.

Local Insights: Beyond just property details, realtors provide insights on local amenities, schools, transportation, and community dynamics, helping you make an informed decision based on your lifestyle preferences.

When searching for a Realtor in Calgary near me, it's essential to evaluate their track record, certifications, and experience specifically within the Calgary Southwest area. The ideal real estate agent should not only comprehend your needs but also be communicative, reliable, and dedicated to guiding you through the entire home buying process.Make sure to review client feedback and consider their expertise in the Calgary Southwest market. Interview multiple real estate agents to find the one that aligns best with your goals and understands the nuances of the local real estate landscape.

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For more information - 

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Website:- https://www.rameshverma.ca/

Business Number:- 403-903-7879

Business Mail id:- rameshyyc@gmail.com

[homeatlast01]

Internal Scaffolding

We will partner with you to make your listing stand out from the rest, and help you make a sale as fast as possible. We achieve the light, airy look home buyers love, while also making the property memorable. We will create a wonderful atmosphere that will help potential buyers picture themselves in the home. Traditional, mid-century, boho, quirky, modern- we can do it all. We have two warehouses filled with an eclectic mix of furniture and accessories. In addition to our eye for design, we also have a talent for brainstorming new ideas, and fixing problems. We will roll up our sleeves, and do whatever it takes to get a job done. As former realtors, we understand how stressful selling a home can be- especially in the unconventional East Bay market. We notice every unfluffed pillow, crooked painting, and mark on the wall- Let our attention to detail work for you!.

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[homestagingmemphis]

Home Staging In Memphis By Heidi Ross Design

132 Cumberland St, Memphis, TN 38112

(901) 361-7419

https://www.heidirossdesign.com

Memphis's luxury home staging and design company. Heidi and her team of home staging experts create an inviting atmosphere that appeals to the target demographic as well as the broadest bases of potential buyers for each Realtor listing. Our services include: Vacant Home Staging, Home Owner Occupied Staging, Make-Overs, Interior Design, Consultations, Color Selection, and Carpet updates. We serve the entire Memphis TN area, including Germantown, Collierville, Rossville, Eads, Oakland, Lakeland, Bartlett, Cordova, Millington, Southaven MS, Olive Branch MS, Hernando, MS and all surrounding areas.

[tofuart]

A Professional Bookcase

A real San Francisco home has a certain look that reflects the personality of the person(s) who lives there.  Never cluttered, but always quirky.  We are a city of collectors who treat our homes like museum installations.  In apartments, it starts with the old telephone nook near the door.  They make for perfect altars.  A San Francisco bathroom is an art gallery with plumbing fixtures.  Our small kitchens never have an empty wall.

What San Francisco homes are not, in spite of the worst efforts of stagers and flippers, are the gutted Victorians that have been sterilized into white and gray modern lofts.  Stainless steel and marble slabs with all the charm of a mortuary.  We do not want to live in banal furniture catalogs.

The bookcases and things I paint for my Chaekgeori-inspired series are just a small glimpse into these wonderful San Francisco homes.

My friends have generously shared photos for me to work from.  When I asked one friend to send some snapshots, I waited anxiously for their arrival in my inbox.  He and his husband have a delightful Hayes Valley apartment that is like living in an actual cabinet of curiosities.  It is one of my favorite San Francisco apartments.

The photos he sent, and what I have painted here, are of his office bookcase.  Early on, I realized painting bookcases was, in many ways, painting a portrait as much as it is painting a still life.  This made me think about a person’s bookcase in a professional office.  Many of us wear different personalities to suit the occasion.   A downtown office bookcase is going to be different from one at home.  Maybe a little more restrained, a little more reserved.   This is a professional bookcase.

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Last Dragon | The Witcher & Game of Thrones

Chapter 2 | A New Life

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Note: Here’s chapter 2! Thanks for all your comments and love. I was kind of shocked at how many people would want to read this so thank you! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this story. P.S: Find the season 8 reference 

Slowly, Visenya’s eyes open, her vision hazy and muddled as she’s stuck in between distant dreams and the waking world. One blink, two blinks, three blinks. The room is much brighter than the darkness in sleep, her heavy eyes begging her to succumb to it once more, if only for five more minutes. Sunlight floods in through the window, cleansing away the darkness and the nightmares that come with it. The bed beneath her is lumpy and uncomfortable, leaving much to be desired in terms of comfort. The distant shouts of patrons in the tavern below only slightly muffled. Due to the thin walls, it sounds as if someone is screaming from behind Visenya’s door rather than from the floor below. A low grunt leaves her mouth, head pounding like a drum. Pain faintly shoots through her jaw as she slowly unclenches it. A loud pop echoes in the small room, Visenya’s arms stretching towards the ceiling. Lying in bed for a moment longer, she stares at the ceiling with a blank mind.

A year.

It’s been exactly a year since she showed up here. And despite that, she’s never grown used to it. A piece of Visenya still believes that this is all an elaborate dream. Perhaps she’ll wake up and be back in camp, fighting a losing war. Or maybe she’ll be in Winterfell, tucked away in her bed as she huddled under her furs to keep away the cold. All the Starks will be alive and well, and Visenya can laugh with them over breakfast as she chases away the bizarre and dark nightmare.

But the other half of her knows that idea to be false, nothing but a fantasy that’s just out of her grasp. This is real, and so are the actions that led to her showing up in Blaviken. She can still see it too, in the depths of her mind. The last image of Robb burned in her head as his body was paraded around the burning camp, his head cut off and replaced with Greywind’s. The unspoken apologies bubbling out of Visenya’s mouth, all the words she never got to say to him and never will.

No, this is all real. And the sooner Visenya accepts that the sooner she can move on with her life.

She just hasn’t learned how to.

A crash from below and a slew of muffled curses bring Visenya out of her thoughts. Metaphorically and physically, Visenya shakes her head in an attempt to clear away the lingering melancholy. With a heavy sigh and the popping sound of bones cracking, Visenya pulls herself out of the bed, throwing aside the thin, itchy blanket. The cool wooden flooring on her feet is a stark but welcome contrast to her warm temperature. With the grace of a drunkard, she stagers over to the small dresser shoved in the corner of her room. In the process, she tosses off her old nightgown and trades it for a simple blue dress. She haphazardly tosses it on, unbothered by any wrinkles. It’s one of the few dresses she owns. She managed to sew it - after many pricked fingers and a storm of curse words. She received the fabric from the local tailor. One of the local men was harassing the tailor and Visenya offered to get him off her hands in exchange for some fabric. Needless to say, the man - who turned out to be usual at the tavern - had a beautiful black eye for a solid week. It’s a win-win for Visenya; she gets free fabric and the men think twice about harassing her.

If they’re smart, that is.

She still owns all the things she brought with her from Westeros. Her clothes and sword were cleaned, various holes patched until they appeared brand new and her sword shined brilliantly. Her clothes lie in a chest, carefully folded and tucked under her small bed. The sword lies beside it in its sheath waiting to be used once more. Visenya had been unable to get rid of the items but couldn’t bear to look at them. So they’re neatly tucked away, collecting dust as Visenya pretends they don’t exist.

Some nights, when riddled with melancholy and sorrow she’ll pull out the chest and unsheath her blade. The fine dress, embroidered with small flowers and details of silk alongside the deep blue cloak adorned with a fierce dragon and a proud direwolf gets drenched in salty tears. Sobs tear through the silence of the room, echoing in Visenya’s mind until it’s the only thing she can focus on, blocking out the sounds of screams from that night. She’d trace her sword, feeling the dragon on the hilt beneath her fingertips. It was both a source of pain and strength for her. It reminds her of what she lost in Westeros but it also reminded her of who she is - what she is. A dragon; and a dragon is unbothered by the sheep.

With a halfhearted ruffle of her tangled hair, the previously silver locks now dyed a mud brown. In fear of sounding vain, she hates the color. The golden - silver locks were always her pride and joy. It was soft as silk and shined like fine jewels, reflecting beautifully in the sun as it glittered like gold. The light bouncing off the alabaster snow made her glow. Sansa used to adore braiding her hair, styling it in southern braids. Now it was dry, tangled, and dull; never styled in the intricate braids she used to wear.  

But the dye is a necessary evil. Despite not being in Westeros - or anywhere near it - silver hair isn’t a natural color for women her age. And the people in Blaviken don’t take kindly to anything different. So, in an attempt to not garner any attention to herself, silver became brown. And with each application of the dye, Visenya feels a piece of her old self being chipped away, whittling away until there isn’t much left.

Another crash.

She turns around, another sigh escaping her mouth. She moves towards the door, swinging it open as she moves down the hall. It is bare and empty, with no patrons stumbling out of their room blindly. Her room is the closest to the stairs, often hindering Visenya from getting a restful sleep if the tavern below is in full swing. The floorboards creak beneath the weight of her, the sounds lining up with each breath she takes.

Every day is a challenge to keep her head down and mouth shut. The patrons are rowdy and crude, many of them before even having a drop of ale in their systems. Insults would hang at the tip of her tongue, thrashing at the patrons like an angry serpent, ready to land a deadly strike. Her palms covered in crescent-shaped scars from clenching her fists for so long. And sometimes she’d let go and allow her temper to flare and get the best of her. But the risk is never worth the reward, and Aldred has proven to not be a kind boss.

So with a deep breath, Visenya steps down the last set of stairs and sets off towards the bar. The scent of stale alcohol and farm animals mingling with the aroma of food hits Visenya’s senses, causing her nose to wrinkle in disgust.

“There you are! Took you long enough to get down here.” Aldred, the innkeeper loudly exclaims upon seeing Visenya. She mutters a quiet sorry as he shoves a tray of drinks in her hands. “Quit your apologizing girl. Just take these drinks to that table.” He motions over to a rowdy group of men, all donning dyed red leathers. A group of bandits - or mercenaries, Visenya doesn’t care to find out. They came in last night with a woman named Renfri, and haven’t shut up since. She manages to balance the tray in her hands and takes over to their table, dropping it with a thud.

“Enjoy.” she sarcastically mutters, already moving away before any of them have a chance to speak. A scowl automatically places itself on her face as she begins another day of work.

“Do you ever smile Jane?” Isadora, another one of the serving girls says as she passes by to bring another table their drinks. She’s kind enough but the biggest gossip in this backwater town. You can count on anything you say to her being passed around Blaviken within the next hour.    

“Only when bathing in the blood of my enemies,” she mutters to herself, quiet enough that no one should hear. The small chuckle that leaves a woman Visenya was passing, Renfri, told her she was unsuccessful. Visenya pauses to give the woman a quick glance before moving back to the bar, where Aldred already had another round of ale ready for a different table. She picks up the serving tray, careful to not spill the drinks ontop.

“You always so grim?” Renfri asks Visenya as she walks past her to serve a table. This time Visenya doesn’t pause but does answer the woman.

“Only when my heart beats,” she nonchalantly says in a deadpan tone. She hears Renfri stifling another laugh, but if she said anything else, Visenya didn’t hear.

“Here ya go boys,” she mutters, once again dropping the drinks carelessly on the table. Some of it splashes out of the cups and creates small puddles. A few of the men scowl at her as they grab their respective drinks.

“You always do have the most lovely smile Jane.” one of the men pipes up. Jerald, he’s here far too often and spends too much coin. It doesn’t help that he also smells like he’s never been introduced to bathing. Then again, that is most of the people in this town, Visenya has unfortunately discovered. Jerald, feeling brave from the copious ale he’s already consumed, reaches a hand out to grab Visenya. The anger bubbling under the surface of Visenya snaps, the fire inside her flaring to life. With the speed and ferocity of a roaring fire, she grips his hand that rests on her arm.

Without a moment of hesitation, she bends his wrist back until the back of his hand hits the table surface. He lets out a strangled cry of pain as she holds his hand in an uncomfortable position. The men around them let out various cries of surprise but do nothing else. The previously jovial atmosphere in the tavern dissipates, silence smothering the room as everyone stares at their table. She tightens her grip on his wrist, bending down until her face is a few centimeters away from his. Like a snarling wolf, she bares her teeth at him.

“Touch me again, and I’ll show you something far nicer,” Visenya said, a threat thinly veiled in her words. His eyes stare at her, closely resembling a spooked deer, fear speckled in his gaze. She holds him there a moment longer before releasing his arm. Without another word she swiftly moves back to the bar. Multiple pairs of eyes continue to follow Visenya as the atmosphere slowly returns, the chatter in the room picking up. And by the time she reaches the bar, the only two pairs of eyes on her, Aldred and Renfri. Aldred’s beady eyes follow her, a scowl resting on his face while Renfri watches her with a critical eye mingled with a look of approval.

“They always like that?” Renfri asks her, casually leaning again the bar counter, nonchalantly tossing pieces of her breakfast in her mouth. She lazily watches Visenya circle around the bar until she stands across from Renfri. Visenya’s gaze moves from the counter to meet Renfri’s. They quietly watch each other, Renfri waiting for an answer, and Visenya contemplating giving an answer.  

“All men are the same when they’ve got ale in them.” Visenya smoothly replies, breaking the silence and ending their stare-off. She grabs another cup and fills it to the brim with ale, sliding it over to Renfri. The woman merely raises an eyebrow at Visenya before tipping the cup up towards her mouth. Visenya watches as she finishes the ale so fast she could’ve given Robert Baratheon a run for his money. She slams the cup down, wiping away any residual ale on her face. Visenya says nothing, opting to begin eating an assortment of meats, cheese, and bread.

“Renfri.” she simply says, holding a hand out to Visenya.

“I know,” Visenya says, placing her hand in Renfri’s. “Jane.”

“I know.” Renfri mimics, giving her a teasing smirk. Visenya returns the gesture. She takes a moment to get a good look at Renfri. Shoulder length brown hair that’s almost as messy and unkempt as her own; a red blouse - matching the red leathers of her band of men; and a rather large brooch of a sword going through a circle with glittering gems on it.

“Nice broach.” Visenya simply says, removing her hand from Renfri’s grip.

“I think so too, it’s why I have it.” she smugly says. Visenya simply snorts with a snarky retort on the tip of her tongue, when they’re interrupted.

“You stupid girl, the fuck you think you’re doing? Get back to work!” Aldred bellows as he moves towards the bar, gathering the attention of any nearby patrons. “I swear you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Jerald and the boys said you attacked him again,” he sneers, resembling a boar preparing to attack. Visenya subtly rolls her eyes, eliciting a snarky smirk from Renfri. Aldred always did have a way with words.

She grabs two plates of food, probably prepared by Isadora. Without glancing in his direction she glides past Aldred, taking them to their respective tables. She drops the plates on the table. Without waiting for either of them to speak, Visenya turns back to leave. Before she can get back to the bar, the tavern door swings open. A large figure donning a cloak enters the tavern with heavy footsteps, his hood concealing most of his face. But Visenya manages to get a decent look at him before he moves from view. Sculpted face, piercing amber eyes, and snow-white hair. He quickly approaches the counter, where Isadora currently is. Visenya’s too far to hear what’s being said, but the pair are quickly interrupted when Aldred swiftly approaches them His face is nearly red with anger, making Isadora immediately move away from the two. At this point, everyone in the tavern has gone dead silent. Visenya moves closer in an attempt to better hear the conversation. One of the men with Renfri had already stood up, venomously shouting something at the stranger.

“Go; on your own or at the end of a rope. Your choice.” Aldred spits at the man, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s trying to appear intimidating, but the man before him is easily twice his side. Plus, Visenya doubts Aldred could overpower a half-dead chicken.

“Not a hard choice.” the man replies in a smooth voice. He turns to face the man that had spoken to him earlier. Visenya continues to move closer until she’s nearly behind the counter.

“Fuck that, kill him with your bare hands if ya have to,” Aldred says. After he says this, the rest of the men in red leather stand up, getting into a defensive stance. Visenya silently rolls her eyes at the situation. As far as she’s concerned the man hasn’t done anything wrong, and now they’re threatening to kill him. She carelessly glides behind the counter, trying to distract herself from the current tension.

“Probably why business isn’t so great,” Visenya mutters to herself, starting to pour another cup of ale, ready for this mess to be done with. She can feel the flames slowly building as her temper does - the same way it did the night she died. If they didn’t stop this nonsense, Visenya imagined she would be the one doing the killing and not on her own volition. Though the only thing she’d be mourning here is free room and board.

“Come on Witcher, you’re not scared of us are ya?” he asks in a mocking tone. A few of his men begin to step up beside him. The stranger just continues to stare at them. “Show us what ya got.” he goads, obviously looking for a fight.

“Can you not leave it alone for a moment?” Renfri interrupts, dramatically turning to face the group, throwing her food back onto her plate.

“Witchers can’t be trusted,” Aldred says through his gritted teeth.

“I’m not speaking to you,” Renfri says, not bothering to look at Aldred. “I apologize for my man’s interference in your day.” Renfri continues, nodding at the stranger whose back was turned to her. “Hopefully he can improve his behavior by tomorrow’s market.” Renfri finishes, her tone implying the words had a deeper meaning. The stranger and the man in red leather continue staring tensely at each other before he speaks up.

“Sorry Renfri.” he simply says, still staring at the stranger before swiftly turning back to his table.

“Beer for my friend and one for me,” Renfri calls out to Aldred, turning back to the counter to finish her food. Aldred simply huffs and crosses his arms, staring down the stranger - resembling a petulant child. “I am speaking to you now, good sir!” Renfri calls out to Aldred louder, slightly leaning against the bar. The stranger, who now faces the counter pulls down his hood, revealing tangled white hair that goes below his shoulders. His current position also lets her see his black studded leather armor and a wolf pendant that hangs from his neck. Visenya, who’d been at the counter pouring drinks into cups, without looking to Aldred for confirmation, simply slides two drinks their way. One for Renfri and one for the stranger. Aldred glares daggers at Visenya, but she can’t pretend to be bothered. With the tension in the room slowly easing, so is the fire that was bubbling inside of her. Something Visenya is grateful for. Renfri simply gives Visenya a nod and turns to the stranger. He also nods his head in acknowledgment of her but does nothing further.

She moves to grab a cup of ale that Aldred had loudly slammed on the counter, his intention to get Visenya’s attention. As she grabs the mug he harshly glares at her but says nothing as she moves past him. The volume in the room has returned, but the tension is still there. Everyone seems to be uncomfortable with the presence of the stranger.

“Jane! Another round if you will!” Renfri calls to her as Visenya was making her way back to the counter. As she passes Aldred who was still standing in the same position as earlier, she gives him a sickly sweet smile. The smile that was only reserved for arrogant Lords that visited Winterfell and Robert Baratheon, when he came to ask Lord Stark to be his Hand. On her way past him, she grabs a pitcher of ale. As she moves around the counter, she replaces Renfri’s cup with the pitcher.

“We both know you’re going to drink it all. Might as well cut the middle man.” Visenya teasingly tells Renfri. Renfri gives Visenya a sly smile, but it doesn’t match the broody expression on her face. She picks up the jug and moves towards the stranger.

“More and more monsters wherever I go,” she says, her tone sounding defeated, before leaving the tavern. Visenya watches her for a moment before turning her gaze to the stranger, who she now stood before. Even sitting down he was still taller than her. His gaze moved from Renfri to Visenya. His expression is unreadable, not sure what to expect from her.

“Jane.” she simply says. The stranger raises a dark eyebrow at her. Strange, it doesn’t match his head. “That’s my name.” she finishes. He gives her a gruff ‘Hmm’ before taking another drink of his ale. “This is normally the part where you tell the other person your name.” Visenya quips.

“Geralt of Rivia,” he answers after finishing his drink. Visenya nods in satisfaction.

“You made quite a stir coming in here,” Visenya says, already pouring him another drink.

“It happens,” he replies shortly.

“It must be the hair.” Visenya sarcastically quips. Geralt quietly chuckles.

“Must be,” he replies, his voice gravelly and rough. She opens her mouth to respond with something witty when they’re interrupted.

“How much coin for you kikimora then.” Marilka, the alderman’s daughter, interrupts, leaning against the counter beside Geralt.

~

Tags: @queenmendes ; @losers-club6 ; @demigoddesofchimichangagod ; @power-of-words23 ; @winter-moons ; @madamwhisper ; @toribentleyva ;  @comicbeginning ; @naughty-koala07 ; @im-a-muggleborn ; @belgiantrash ; @mikariell95 ; @ayamenimthiriel​

[venice-desire]

Day 3: Office/Locked in a closet

Warning ❗❗

NSFW🔞

🔹Art by: @nane-hen✨

Complete image in the next links: 

Nane’s Twitter ---->https://twitter.com/NanesaurusRex/status/1284249476140544002 

Full Image ---->https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EdKRusHXYAMkcLJ?format=jpg&name=4096x4096

Context of the image under the “Keep Reading”.  (Warnings: NSFW and really long xd ) 

It had been a week since “the bed incident” happened. And neither did Kyle or Cartman talked about it. They just went on with their day, closed the deal and returned home. 

“Yeah, Kyle totally needed my help in that conversation. He couldn’t have done it without me!” Cartman gloated to their new inter, Butters, who looked at him amazed. 

“That is bullshit and you know it, Cartman!” shouted Kyle from across the office. 

Oh yes, they were back to their routine. And they were fine with it. It was their thing. Unfortunately, Stan and Kenny were done with it. 

They noticed something had changed since the trip to New York. For everyone, it might seem like Kyle and Eric hate each other, always competing, always getting on each other’s nerves and always fighting; but for them, it seemed they have some unresolved issues that they needed to work out. 

And they would make that happen. 

It was a nice Thursday afternoon. Everyone was getting ready to go home, just wrapping the last things for the day.

“Hey, man!” Said a cheerful Kenny to a somewhat tired Cartman. He didn’t give him time to answer when immediately said “Listen, I need a favor. You know how Stan likes to use those fancy cardboards for important meetings? Well, I am prohibited going anywhere near the since last week incident so… Can you go? I really need them in my desk for tomorrow morning and you know they don’t open it until 8 a.m.” 

“Are you serious?” Asked an annoyed Eric. “Yeah. But you need to go now, because they close in 10 minutes.” Kenny pushed him towards the elevator. “Why can’t Broflovski or the intern can’t do it?” 

“I am taking Butters home and we really have to get going, something about getting in trouble if he isn’t home by a certain hour. And Kyle is working with Stan so you are the only one around.” The blonde pushed his coworker inside the elevator. “Thank you so much! I owe you one!” Kenny told him right before the elevator doors closed.

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” 

When he arrived to the storage room he noticed no one was there. But the room wasn’t closed so he didn’t mind. 

Not three minutes after, a really annoyed redhead got himself inside the storage room. “Stupid Stan.. having to do everything around here.” He muttered to himself. Or so he thought. 

Brown and blue eyes met with green ones. “What are you doing here?” They asked in unison.

“I work here, dumbass. Same as you.” Answer Cartman. 

“I know that, idiot. I mean, why are you here. You don’t usually come to get your stuff, you normally send Stotch.” Kyle frowned. 

“I am doing this as a favor.” He showed him the cardboards. Kyle nodded. 

“Hey, can you pass me two of those cardboards? Stan needs them as well, apparently.” 

“What are the magic words, Kyle?” Teased Cartman. Kyle grumbled a barely audible. “Please.” 

Eric smirked but before he could reach the cardboards, he felt his fingers touching another thing. “What the-” He grabbed it. 

“What is it?” Asked Kyle. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” 

Cartman showed Kyle a brand new wine bottle. They both were surprised. 

“What was that doing there?” Kyle took it. “Is this were Kenny keeps his stash?” 

“If so, he keeps really weird things.” Cartman said showing him a lube bottle as well. 

Then, they heard it. “Click.” 

Both looked at the door and immediately recognised that noise. “Did someone just locked us in?!” Cartman asked. 

Kyle approached the door and tried to push it open. “Oh my God! They did!” 

Both men started shouting for someone to get them out of there. But nobody came. 

“God damnit! Just what I fucking needed!” Whined Eric while taking his phone out. But… “Oh, you have yo be fucking kidding me!” Dead. His phone was dead. 

Meanwhile, Kyle was hoping for his phone to have battery. “Yes” He whispered to himself… But! “Oh! So Stan can pay for high quality cardboard but can’t afford a decent internet company!” The “no signal” sign in his phone almost mocking him.

He threw his phone who knows where and began moving the door handle aggressively. When he found out that was taking him nowhere he began charging against the door. “Come on, Cartman! If you help me we can take it down!” Kyle took his coat and folded it neatly beside him.  

Eric rolled his eyes. “We can’t take it down. Remember how last month someone was stealing supplies and Stan asked for the doors to be reinforced?” He chuckled at Kyle’s desperate expression. “Even with my strength it won’t budge.” 

“Well, I don’t see you giving any ideas as to how we are getting out of here!” The smaller man tried looking for something - anything - that helped them. 

Cartman just got himself comfortable, leaving his coat and tie on one of the racks. “Is not like we will be here all night.”

Kyle grumbled and tried to put as much space as he could between him and his enemy. Which wasn’t much considering the pretty small size of the room. “This is all your fault.” He muttered. 

“How the fuck is this my fault?! I wasn’t the one who got us trapped here!” He stood a bit closer to him, confronting him. Kyle didn’t stand behind. He got closer too. Green and blue-brown eyes furiously met. 

“It’s always you! The messed up hotel reservation? You. Yesterday’s missed deal with that corporation? You. Us getting trapped in here and making me miss a date? You! It has always been you! The fucking Cartman Effect!” He pushed him with enough force to make him stager a bit. 

Cartman reacted immediately and pushed him against the door. 

That disoriented Kyle for a moment. 

“Listen to me. I am so fucking tired of your bullshit.” His arms were on both sides of Kyle’s head. His serious expression was one that Kyle has never seen before. His bi-colored eyes glinted with something Kyle couldn’t put his finger on. “You say everything is my fault. You aren’t the only one who got things to do tonight!” Eric was really close. 

I can smell his cologne. Kyle thought.

He was sure Eric was telling him something about how any of this was his fault. And Kyle knew that. He was just… tired. And annoyed with whoever got them in this situation. It’s not that he hated the idea of being trapped, he hated the idea of being trapped with Eric. But not because they were supposed to be enemies. This was something else and his body seemed to agree with him. 

Eric could see that Kyle was not listening to him anymore. His eyes seemed more interested in the way Cartman looked. 

Eric didn’t even know what he was talking about. He got lost as well in his coworkers factions. 

Just like that day at the hotel. And with this thought he got his lips closer to Kyle’s. 

The smaller man seemed to notice where this was going. He let out a small noise and moved his face away from Cartman’s. “We can’t…” He whispered. 

“Why?” Asked the brunette in that deep voice that made Kyle go weak on his knees. “We are coworkers, we are still at the office and…” It was difficult trying to look at his enemy in the eyes. “We are supposed to hate each other.” Cartman stare at him for a moment. He smirked. “You sure about that? Your body seems to be thinking otherwise.” Kyle face went red with embarrassment. 

“It’s not what-” He tried to hide it. Tried. “You don’t have to worry about it.” He whispered in his ear. “I can even help you with your problem.” 

“Don’t say such stupid things!” Kyle stuttered. His mind a bit foggy for all the sensual tension trapped with them.  

Eric hummed. “Then pushed me away.” This surprised Kyle. Cartman continued. “If you don’t want this to happen… just tell me.” 

Cartman knew. He knew if Kyle didn’t want any of this he would have pushed him away. He also knew that Kyle was everything but weak. He really didn’t want to push him away. And he didn’t do it either. 

“I wonder…” His right hand found his way to the back of the redhead’s neck. “If I kiss you right now. Would you kiss me back?” 

Kyle could already feel Cartman’s breath against his cheek. He was getting closer. His noses were almost touching. He couldn’t stop this. He couldn’t stop Cartman. He couldn’t stop himself. 

“I didn’t think so.” Was Eric’s final statement before finally kissing him. 

Kyle couldn’t stop the hard beating of his heart. He was sure that it was gonna get out of his chest if this continued. But Cartman was right. He didn’t want any of this to stop. He didn’t want Eric to stop. He had to stop lying to himself. 

At first, Kyle didn’t move at all. He just let Eric do whatever he wanted, he dominated that kiss. But short after, he was kissing him back. 

It was a passionate kiss. Full of desire, full of untold feelings that begged to be let out. 

Kyle rounded Eric’s neck with his arms. He needed to feel him closer. The other man, by instinct, placed his hands on Kyle’s hips. The smaller man could feel Eric’s hands slowly massaging that spot. He felt in heaven and he couldn’t help the small moan that escaped his lips.   

That was such a turn on for Cartman. He decided immediately that he needed to hear that sound again. And again. And again. 

Kyle didn’t feel any shame this time. He felt alive. And he wanted to keep going all the way to the end. He need it. 

They only stop for brief moments to breath, but they were back at it right away. The kiss even more heated than before. They didn’t even know when their tongues started to be a part if their kiss. 

Kyle could feel his hands wanting to explore even more of his enemy. He could feel the white shirt that was getting in between. He wanted that gone. He unbuttoned his shirt as fast as he could, his hands were shaking but he got it off of him. 

Eric didn’t want to stay behind. His hands leaving Kyle’s waist and going directly to his, now very noticeable, hard-on. That got him another moan from him. 

Almost as in queue, Eric didn’t want to waste anymore time, so in a swift movement he got Kyle out of his pants and boxers. 

The red of Kyle’s cheeks could compare to the red of his hair. And Cartman noticed it.

He took the time to admire his half-naked lover. God, how many times has he craved this sight. He chuckled. “I always knew you had red hair down there too.” Kyle couldn’t help but frown at that comment. Was he seriously making this joke right now? 

“You son of a-” The insult died in his lips as Eric kissed him once again. There was something sexy in the redhead yelling at him. Or that’s what Cartman thought. 

He left his lips and nibbled his pale neck. Meanwhile, he took his own pants and boxers, his bottom half finally getting some relief. Without hesitation, we grabbed both their members and began moving his hand up and down softly. His other hand was on Kyle’s neck, bringing his lips together. 

His movements were fast at times and Kyle’s sounds of pleasure were telling him that everything he was doing was right. But he didn’t want their fun to end anytime soon so at some point he stopped. 

“Don’t stop… please…” Kyle begged. His hips looking for any kind of friction. 

Cartman gave him a brief kiss. “Relax, I am just looking for the lube.” He caressed his cheek. “This isn’t even close to be over.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” Kyle didn’t  seemed to think twice about it when he dropped to his knees. And for the first time in the night, Eric was surprised. But he didn’t object about it. 

“Well.” He smirked. “This is a nice surprise. If you think you can handle thi-” Now it was Eric’s turn to shut up as Kyle took a hold of his member and began to suck. 

Eric groaned at the delicious sensation of Kyle’s mouth and tongue. Where the fuck did he learned that? He thought as his lover took him even deeper. God, Cartman could die right there and he would be the luckiest guy in hell. 

The pleasure was overwhelming, he didn’t want to finish yet. Not in Kyle’s mouth. His hands grabbed a full of the smaller man’s hair and guided his movements so it was a good rhythm for both of them. 

Kyle took him out of his mouth and took a breath. His hand replacing his mouth. “I think this is a better option than lube anyway.” His voice was a bit raspy, but it was worth it. “Now come here and fuck me.” 

Cartman didn’t need to be told twice. He brought his lips to Kyle’s again and found himself between the other man’s legs. 

This was it. Every moment they have spent together was guiding them to this. Since the moment he they got this job, their first fight, their constant competition, that night at the hotel, all that sensual tension that drown the office whenever those two were close to each other. It was all leading them here. And nothing was stopping them. 

Neither of them could wait anymore. They needed it now. But Cartman didn’t want to hurt his partner, although Kyle seemed confident. He looked at those vibrant green eyes, they were clouded with lust. So, why keep him waiting? 

He entered him. It was slow but steady. He didn’t stop until he was all the way in him. 

It was painful. Of course it was. But Kyle didn’t want it to stop. Cartman noticed the pained expression on his lover’s face and went still. “You ok there, Kyle?” He said while trying to control his want to just thrust into him. 

“Yeah… Just… give me a second.” Kyle was trying to calm his breathing while accommodating Cartman’s huge- “Ok, I am ready. Just… not so fast. Yet.”

Eric nodded. His hips moved slowly at first. The moans that left Kyle’s mouth were music to his ears. 

As the redhead started to move himself in sync with Eric’s thrust, he knew they were ready for something a bit more… aggressive. 

Eric didn’t stop, but he hooked the back of Kyle’s legs with his arms. He got even closer to his lover. They were almost chest to chest. 

With a hard thrust, Kyle’s hands found their way to Cartman’s hair. Gripping at it like his life depended on it. It was Eric’s name in Kyle’s voice every time he pushed his hips against his. He couldn’t help crying his enemy’s name out. And that just made Eric more eager to hear it over and over again. 

He made some noises himself, but tried not to overcome his lover’s. Not that he could, even if he wanted too. He was really loud. 

Soon, they against the wall. 

While Cartman’s hands were on Kyle’s hips guiding his movements his mouth was attached to his collarbone. He wanted everyone to notice what he has done. 

They were both sweating messes. They wouldn’t last much longer. Kyle moved his hips  faster than before. His insides engulfed Eric’s length so perfectly that they just needed a couple more movements to reach their climax. 

They took a second to ride their climax out. Cartman wrapped his arms around Kyle. Their breathing still erratic but calming with each passing second of them holding each other close. Cartman kissed softly the bruises he made as Kyle played with Eric’s “post-sex” hair.

“That was…” Eric was looking for the correct word for this. Amazing? Intense? Out of this world? 

Kyle smiled. “Yeah. That was.” He kissed Cartman’s forehead. 

They looked right to each other’s eyes and happily sighed. 

Thank whoever got us stuck in here. Was Eric’s thought for the rest of their night. 

The next morning they woke up as quick as possible. They knew that someone was coming anytime soon and they didn’t want anyone to see them like that. 

They weren’t as presentable as yesterday but it would work.

They placed everything in order and cleaned whatever evidence of their nightly actions.  

And they were right. The first ones to arrive were Stan and Kenny, who, miraculously, found them in the storage room. 

“Were you two here the entire night?” Asked Stan with his best surprised expression. 

“And you didn’t kill each other?” Kenny continued. 

“Thank “someone” that you are here!” Said Cartman dramatically. “I couldn’t stand his annoying ass for another minute!” He got out of the room with Kyle right behind him. 

The redhead scoffed. “Fuck you, Cartman. If it weren’t for you we wouldn’t have been trapped in the first place!” 

Stan was about to interrupt them but when he realized they didn’t even stop to talk to them. 

“My fault?! How in hell was that on me?” Cartman sneered. 

They continued fighting until they were out of Kenny’s and Stan’s sight. 

Both of them looked at the other. 

“What just happened?” Asked Stan to Kenny. The blonde just shrugged and signal Stan to go into the storage room. 

They went in and stared at the now empty room. Kenny checked the top of the shelf and found an untouched bottle of wine and another of lube. He showed them to Stan. 

“Well… I guess our plan didn’t work.” Kenny sighed. “Maybe they really just hate each other?” They stayed quiet for a second.

“No.” They both said at unison. 

“There’s no way they spent the night together and didn’t even kissed each other.” Stan got out of the room. 

“Well… Only they know what went down last night.” Kenny followed him and closed the door. This time, with an empty room. 

They made their way to the office. 

Eric was talking to Butters. They didn’t know about what but the blonde seemed interested and  amazed with whatever Eric was telling him. 

Kyle on the other hand was looking quite uncomfortable while sitting at his desk. Kenny raised an eyebrow at this. But it was in a particular movement that he saw it. 

He elbowed Stan to look carefully at the redhead. Stan noticed it right away. 

“I guess it did work.” He said cooly. Kenny nodded and they fist bumped before going to their respective areas.  

[astrastaging]

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[vinyls-and-valentines]

Blood tw, Death/Death mention tw

Ghoul always had low expectations, but bleeding out all alone out in Zone Four wasn’t quite the way he thought he’d go. It wasn’t even his fault that time- he’d taken all the safety measures the others always nagged him about for once- but rather the fault of a well-timed drac patrol.

Two cars, one bomb and no road sight, the killjoy decided to have some fun. Catching the dracs attention was easy enough and when they were exactly where Ghoul wanted them to be he pressed the button on the detonator, blasting them to the heavens above in a ball of flames. It was beautiful like the firework shows on the Forth of July that D told them about must’ve been, but clearly better since instead of many tiny explosions it was just one massive one.

He didn’t see that one of the draculoids had survived until the dust that was kicked up by the explosion had settled back down and before he could draw his blaster he felt a hot pain in his side. After that his mind went on auto-pilot: aim, pull the trigger, land a shot right between the bastard’s souless eyes, touch his wound though his shirt, red. Run. He hadn’t gotten far before he fell face-first into the sand.

So, there he was, laying sprawled on the desert floor and bleeding miles away from his home and crew with no way to contact them. As he quietly cursed the sun for burning his face and making him feel all drowsy- though really that was most likely because of blood loss- he remembered Kobra mentioning off-handedly that drac and crow cars come with built-in communication devices sort of like the set up they had back at the Diner.

Getting back up on his feet, he stagered over to the totalled remains of the cars, carefully stepping around the few dracs littering the ground near the vehicles. From the corner of his eye he can spot the fairly sizable dip in the sand his bomb had left behind and he couldn’t help but feel proud that if he really was going to die that time, at least he’d have left his mark even if it was one of destruction.

The first car he inspected had somehow landed back on its wheels, but upon closer inspection the dashboard seemed to have been completely destroyed, a metal bar of uncertain origin having speared right through it. The second had a less fortunate landing, having hit the land on its trunk and ending up upside down, glass shards littering the ground around it. The driver was still in his seat, hanging limply from the seatbelt that was supposed to save its life. It couldn’t do much in the case of an explosion, though.

Crawling inside as carefully as he could, Ghoul found that the car’s dashboard was in fact still intact, the reciever dangling down by the cord plugged in the console that only left him with the hard part: twisting the knobs into the right position to tune into the Diner’s frequency despite of the swarms of white specks swimming in his vision.

“Ya’ bettah’ pick up, assholes.“ Ghoul grumbled as the radio came alive with static.

After an excruciating long moment Kobra’s voice came from the other end, “Where the fuck are you Ghoul?”

“Uhh...currently bleedin’ out in a drac car at ma’ bomb site. “ he paused, shifting with a groan to apply pressure on his side, “Why, ya’ wanna gossip? ‘M sure those bastards at HQ would love ta’ hear it.“

“What do you-  oh.“ the younger said and the latter could almost see his stupid shocked expression...he’d miss it, “Shit, Ghoul. Hold- hold on. Jet! Jet, drag Poison’s ass to the AM! We gotta hit the red line! Yes, now, Jet.“

“Dunno if i can, Kobes.“ the killjoy slurred with a pitiful chuckle, starting too feel more lightheaded than ever before.

“Don’t you dare turn to dust on me, motherfucker“ is all that was said before static took hold of the airwaves once again.

The desert was quiet and only grew quieter as Ghoul’s eyelids became heavier and heavier until they felt like a pound of lead was weighting them down. Despite this, the killjoy felt like he was floating, waves gently lapping over him as he drifted into the warm waters of the unknown. Funny...he never got to see the ocean.

[homestagingseattlewa-blog]

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Business category:

Home Staging

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At REVamp Home Staging Seattle WA, we help sellers with furniture and decor rentals and expert decorating. We stage your house feel like home for potential buyers and sell the house above market value. Whether you only need a few furniture pieces or an entire home redesign, we have the best solution for your needs. We offer a diverse selection of choices to leave your home looking professionally designed and ready to wake up in the following morning. Sell your property faster with the help of our REVamp staging and design specialists.

Year Found:

2009

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3

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[lovittbydesign]

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