#tiling gold coast

[rock1777]

Best Tile Cleaning Services Gold Coast | Gold Coast Tile Cleaners

Your local tile cleaning specialists

At Gold Coast Tile Cleaning Company, we’re more than just experts in tile and grout cleaning – we’re your trusted partners in preserving the beauty and longevity of your Gold Coast home. With over 22 years of combined experience, our family-owned Gold Coast tile cleaner company has earned its reputation as a leader in the industry. We’re dedicated to delivering premier services at competitive prices, and we’ve expanded our service areas and product range to cater to all your tile and grout needs.

tile and grout cleaning gold coast

Your tiles and grout deserve the best care, and that’s precisely what we offer. Our professional tile and grout cleaning service on the Gold Coast utilises state-of-the-art equipment and Australia’s finest cleaning and sealing systems. We understand the unique challenges that Gold Coast homes face, from discoloured grout to stubborn stains on your tiles. With Gold Coast Tile Cleaning Services, your tiles will regain their former glory, and home renovations will be a thing of the past.

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Best Tile Cleaning Services Gold Coast | Gold Coast Tile Cleaners

Looking for expert tile cleaning on the Gold Coast? Our professional tile and grout cleaning services restore the shine to your floors, making them look like new. We specialize in deep cleaning to remove dirt, grime, and stains. Contact us today for reliable tile and grout cleaning on the Gold Coast!"

[ezydrycleaningservices]

Grime to Shine: Tile Cleaning in Gold Coast and Brisbane

Tiles are not just functional elements in our homes; they're also aesthetic assets that can greatly enhance the ambiance of our living spaces. However, over time, tiles can accumulate dirt, grime, and stains, detracting from their beauty and luster. In coastal areas like the Gold Coast and bustling urban centers like Brisbane, where the climate and lifestyle contribute to unique cleaning challenges, maintaining pristine tiles can be a daunting task. Now, we will we'll discuss the world of tile cleaning in Gold Coast and Brisbane, exploring effective strategies to transform your tiles from grime to shine.

Understanding the Challenges

The subtropical climate of the Gold Coast, with its high humidity and frequent rainfall, creates an environment conducive to mold, mildew, and algae growth on tiles. Similarly, Brisbane's urban setting exposes tiles to a myriad of pollutants, including dust, dirt, and vehicle emissions, which can accumulate on surfaces, dulling their appearance. Additionally, high foot traffic in commercial areas and busy households exacerbates wear and tear on tiles, making regular tile cleaning in Brisbane and Gold Coast area essential to preserve their longevity and aesthetics.

Effective Cleaning Techniques

Achieving sparkling tiles in Gold Coast and Brisbane requires a combination of proper techniques, suitable products, and regular maintenance. Start by sweeping or vacuuming the tiles to remove loose debris and dirt. Next, choose a cleaning solution that is compatible with your tile type and grout, whether it's porcelain, ceramic, natural stone, or mosaic. Diluted vinegar or commercial tile cleaning in Gold Coast and Brisbane are popular options for breaking down stubborn stains and grime.

For tougher stains and mold buildup, consider using a mixture of baking soda and water or hydrogen peroxide. Apply that solution to those affected areas, let it rest for a few moments, then scrub gently with a sponge or brush. Rinse properly with water to remove the residue. In areas prone to mold and mildew, such as bathrooms and kitchens, regular application of a mold inhibitor can help prevent recurrence.

Professional Assistance for Tile Cleaning in Brisbane and Gold Coast

While DIY cleaning can yield satisfactory results for minor soiling, deep-seated stains, and extensive grime may require the expertise of professional tile cleaning services. Trained technicians equipped with specialized equipment and industry-grade cleaners for tile cleaning in Brisbane and Gold Coast area can tackle even the toughest cleaning challenges, restoring your tiles to their former glory without causing damage.

Benefits of Professional Tile Cleaning

Opting for professional tile cleaning in Gold Coast and Brisbane offers several advantages beyond surface-level cleanliness. Professional cleaners utilize advanced techniques such as steam cleaning, pressure washing, and hot water extraction to penetrate deep into tile pores and grout lines, effectively removing embedded dirt and contaminants. Moreover, their expertise ensures that the cleaning process is tailored to your specific tile type and condition, minimizing the risk of damage and ensuring optimal results. Maintaining clean and gleaming tiles in Gold Coast and Brisbane is not just about aesthetics; it's also about preserving the integrity and value of your property. By understanding the unique challenges for tile cleaning in Brisbane and Gold Coast, posed by the coastal and urban environments and employing effective cleaning techniques, you can transform your tiles from grime to shine. Whether you choose to tackle the task yourself or enlist the help of professionals, regular tile maintenance is key to enjoying beautiful, long-lasting tiles in your home or business.

[sandstoneworks]

Sandstone Works: Exceptional Granite Tiles on the Gold Coast

Elevate your space with the timeless beauty of granite tiles Gold Coast from Sandstone Works. Explore our exquisite selection for premium quality and enduring elegance.

[bathroom-renovation-queensland]

Licensed Tiling, Waterproofing, Carpentry and Bathroom Renovation Contractor Queensland

Abbott Bros is a small personable company that provides a full service for bathroom renovation in Queensland, Brisbane, Gold Coast, and Sunshine Coast. They specialize in tiling, waterproofing, carpentry, and bathroom renovation. The company is licensed in all of these areas and fully insured.

If you are looking to renovate your bathroom, Abbott Bros is a great choice. Dean, the owner, is a licensed tiler, waterproofer, and carpenter. He will be undertaking most of the work himself, and will also organize and oversee other trades needed, such as plumber, electrician, and plasterer, to complete the renovation. This ensures that the project is completed with full attention to detail and quality, and that the customer is kept informed throughout the process.

[crappyassdrawings]

Mid-sized trendy backyard tile outdoor patio shower photo with a roof extension

[jcgutterclean]

Finding the Best Gutter Cleaner Near Me for a Flawless Home Maintenance

Introduction:

Maintaining a well-functioning gutter system is vital to protect your home from potential water damage. Regular cleaning and maintenance ensure that rainwater flows smoothly and efficiently away from your property. When it comes to finding a reliable gutter cleaner near you, it's essential to choose a professional who can deliver exceptional results. In this article, we will explore the importance of gutter cleaning, the benefits of hiring a professional gutter cleaner near you, and provide tips for selecting the best service.

Why Gutter Cleaning Matters:

Gutters play a crucial role in directing rainwater away from your home's foundation, preventing water damage, soil erosion, and potential structural issues. Over time, leaves, twigs, debris, and even small animals can clog your gutters, hindering their functionality. A neglected gutter system can lead to water overflowing, causing damage to your roof, walls, and foundation. Therefore, regular gutter cleaning is essential to maintain the integrity of your home.

Benefits of Hiring a Professional Gutter Cleaner Near Me:

Expertise and Experience:

Professional gutter cleaners possess the necessary expertise and experience to handle various gutter cleaning tasks efficiently. They understand the intricacies of gutter systems, allowing them to identify potential issues and provide the most effective solutions. By hiring professionals, you can rest assured that the job will be done thoroughly and with precision.

Time and Convenience:

Cleaning gutters can be a time-consuming and physically demanding task. Hiring a professional gutter cleaner near you saves you valuable time and energy. They come equipped with the right tools and equipment, ensuring efficient and prompt completion of the job. Instead of climbing ladders and risking injuries, you can leave the task in the hands of experts while you focus on other priorities.

Safety:

Gutter cleaning can be hazardous, especially if you lack the proper training and equipment. Professional gutter cleaners are well-versed in safety protocols and take necessary precautions while working at heights. They have the knowledge to handle potential risks effectively, minimizing the chances of accidents or injuries.

Thorough Cleaning and Maintenance:

Professional gutter cleaners not only remove debris but also inspect the entire gutter system for any underlying issues. They can identify leaks, cracks, or loose connections that may compromise the effectiveness of your gutters. Early detection of problems allows for timely repairs, preventing further damage and potentially costly repairs down the line.

Choosing the Best Gutter Cleaner Near Me:

When selecting a gutter cleaner near you, keep the following factors in mind to ensure you make the right choice:

Reputation and Reviews:

Research and read reviews of gutter cleaning services in your area. Look for testimonials from satisfied customers to gauge their reliability and the quality of their work. A reputable company will have a positive online presence and a track record of delivering exceptional results.

License and Insurance:

Ensure that the gutter cleaning service you choose is licensed and insured. This protects you from any liability in case of accidents or damages during the cleaning process. A professional company will gladly provide proof of licensing and insurance upon request.

Range of Services:

Consider the range of services offered by the gutter cleaning company. Do they offer additional services such as gutter repairs, installation, or maintenance? It's beneficial to choose a company that can address all your gutter-related needs, providing comprehensive solutions.

Pricing and Estimates:

Compare prices and obtain estimates from multiple gutter cleaning companies. However, avoid making your decision solely based on price. Quality of service and reputation should also be significant factors in your decision-making process.

Conclusion:

Maintaining clean and functional Gutter Cleaner Near Me is crucial for the overall well-being of your home. By hiring a professional gutter cleaner near you, you can ensure that your gutter system is in top shape, protecting your property from water damage and other potential issues. Consider the expertise, convenience, safety, and thoroughness offered by professional gutter cleaners when making your choice. With the right professionals by your side, you can enjoy a flawless home maintenance routine.

[katnapsh]

Poolhouse Poolhouse An illustration of a custom-shaped above-ground pool house and medium-sized minimalist backyard tile.

[pastel-rainbow-galaxy]

Mid-sized trendy backyard tile outdoor patio shower photo with a roof extension

[carpetcleanercompany]

Why To Choose Professional Carpet Cleaning Gold Coast?

A carpet at home is prone to accumulation of dust and wear and tear due to direct traffic and prolonged use with no cleaning. So it’s imperative to keep it neat and clean and well maintained so as to increase its longevity. 

Take professional carpet cleaning services Gold Coast once or twice a year based on the foot traffic in your home. Homeowners should direct their efforts to cleaning the carpet once a week before opting for professional cleanings.

Benefits Of Carpet Cleaning Gold Coast

Let’s look into the advantages of carpet cleaning in this blog post.

Extend The Carpet’s Life

One of the incredible advantages of a professional carpet cleaning service is that it helps to enhance your carpet’s life. With prolonged use, dirt, dust, debris, and allergens get deposited in the carpet and entangled into the fibers that cause fibers to split and damage. The removal of dirt and debris will expand its lifespan. 

Professional carpet cleaners use specialized cleaning methods, such as hot water extraction. In this method, hot water is used to remove the dirt from within the fibers effectively. It keeps the carpet sanitized.

Promotes A Healthier Environment

Dust and allergens entangled in the carpet fibers may enter the nostrils and cause severe respiratory issues, allergies, and other health problems. The high temperature of water destroys allergens to prevent a health threat.

Removal Of Dirt And Bacteria

You might think it’s simple and easy to clean the carpet using a vacuum than hiring a carpet cleaning service. But a vacuum cleans the debris from the surface. However, professional treatment involves the removal of debris embedded in the fibers. 

If you don’t let it removed, the dirt present in the fibre causes excessive wearing. Bacteria can also create odours, which makes it difficult to breathe.

Removes Carpet Stains

One of the other benefits of professional carpet cleaning is that they eliminate tough spots and stains. With the hot water extraction method, professional cleaners remove the following stains:

Coffee spills

Dirt and mud

Ink

Pet stains 

Red wine

After taking the professional cleaning service, you must not think of ugly spots. 1st Class Cleaners provide you with Carpet Cleaning Gold Coast, Tile Cleaning, and Concrete Cleaning Gold Coast services. Customers get the 1st class cleaning services at cost-effective prices. So without any delay, choose 1st class cleaners.

[1800titz]

The vacay piece I teased ages ago. One night stand :D

CONTENT/WARNINGS: p-in-v, oral, brief size kink (if you squint), praise kink, this one’s p vanilla.

WC: 2.5K

It starts like this:

A bohemian beach with a high riding tide, where ripples surge and flood the shore. Sand tears from its home, coasting the verge in the breeze like a fog under the overcast, and when the clouds split open, the rays hug her skin. 

She’s sprawled over a chaise lounge in a little red thing that’s all skimp and no cover besides the intimates. When she rolls onto her side and tips to her tummy, he eyes the flash of skin behind dark tint. His arms brace over the porcelain border of the pool that overlooks the beach up ahead — he’s watchful from a distance. Someone swims up to the bar behind him. Chlorine laps at his back, teeming over the grout between the tiles as he wraps his lips over a straw and nurses something cobalt and strong.

By the time he culls a second one, she’s up, all glistening skin in the sunshine, hips swaying as her toes make doughy prints in the sand. She trails to the sea, and the ocean eats her until she’s just a little silhouette in front of his sunglasses with water-slicked hair and lines that cinch and swell in all the right places. 

He sees her like that, outlying his bubble, in brief pieces like the flashes of skin. Fragments in the horizon, like the border of a stranger’s leg in the background of a photograph. He sees her in slivers where eyes interlock from across the room and linger. This bohemian summer is painted in teal, and it’s waves swathing the coast, warm skin coated in cocoa butter. 

It ends on a night where the teal metamorphose indigo, and then nearly denim, with orange on cords, glinting like miniaturized, splintered orbs of the sun have been caught to glare forever on strings in the night. Harry sees her through that indigo, this stranger’s bare leg waltzing in the depths of his touristy snapshot, mingling in the dancing horde. He trails closer, shouldering through the throng and squeezing through in polite gaps, and she twists like it’s fate — just enough to smuggle a glimpse in her peripherals. 

Eventually, Harry leans in to murmur, “What are you drinking?”

The plush of his mouth ghosts over the cartilage there, and his cadence smooths over like honey, low and deep over the pounding bass of the music. Waned tobacco and spice; a warm, pleasant musk in the flurry of scents. 

She doesn’t immediately respond, observant like she’s weighing whether the invitation is worth entertaining. It only takes a second. Then, there’s a hand over his pec, like she’s already made friends with the filth of his intentions. His red-lycra-skimp mystique rolls up on her toes. 

Harry twists his head just enough for her to respond, “It’s a Blue Lagoon.” 

Saccharine — rich and lux and smooth, something that has her skin glowy and sweeps up her throat, tucks behind her ear, enough so that the scent billows off with the motion of her hair as she flips it over her shoulder. 

Harry casts his gaze to the drink. A red straw is tucked into the ice, and the only remnants of the beverage mingle at the bottom. The ice shimmers in faded teal, much like water sloshing over the flat tides. Her fingers cradle over the cup, and that’s where soft, thin lines of gold coil. Despite the broad array, there’s no wedding band. 

“Can I grab you another?” 

That’s when she does the thing; this patently flirtatious, brazenly get-under-my-crocheted-midi-skirt sort of thing, lashes coy in their sweep and eyes innocuous as the tips of her manicured fingers pinch at the straw and siphon it to her mouth. There’s an elegant presentation to the polish — neat, short lines with a nude base and a white tip. 

The remnants of the beverage vanish until all that’s left is crushed ice painted with blue curaçao. Harry watches the straw. He watches her lips, the way they unlatch and the way the pink tip of her tongue offers a glimpse before it hides away behind her front teeth. 

When she pulls the drink away, she tips her head — an inclination for his ear again — and when he ducks his chin for her answer, she tells him, “Can you make it worth my time?” 

A tongue swipes — his — like it’s already hungry and yearning. Dimples form beside the curling edges of a mouth after the pink muscle retreats. Home in its hungry cavern; limitlessly craving. He doesn’t bother going for her ear again, instead opting to fix eyes that have wandered, all week, onto her face. Definitive, close. Mesh of saccharine and spice. 

“I’ll make it worth your time,” Harry assures. 

His eyes are virid, even in the indigo, under all the miniature suns as the lanterns throw them back into a roll of blue — it climbs over the crowd and seeps with the music. They’re virid and intent. They’re virid, and there’s something lewd that dances in the mottled talc. 

She watches him. A set of eyes flits to his mouth and stays, brief like a fragment. She nudges the cup — the fragment splinters and fades — extending it against his chest until he raises his hand and his ring clad digits curl over it slowly, wet with condensation. 

“Blue Lagoon,” sweet mystique reminds him, a little curl to her mouth. 

Harry heads to the bar. He orders a Blue Lagoon and refreshes his tequila. Double. He winds through the half-clad crowd, prodding and slipping through sweat-slicked bodies until he finds her again. 

He makes it worth her while when they’re dancing, when her arms are slung over his shoulders and the tips of her fingers graze at the little curls at his nape, like an intimacy beyond a summer fling, or maybe like a restless hunger — its touches only test the waters with dips of toes under lapping ripples. He makes it worth her while when his hand cups the meat of her hip, and she tips her head up for their mouths to meet, when their dancing slows and the kiss turns feverish, cushiony mouths teasing at the seams until they split. 

He makes it worth her time when they make the stroll back to his room, heels clicking over tile and bouncing off from lofty wall to lofty wall, a good bit of distance between them strictly for the sake of avoiding shagging in the middle of a hallway. He makes it worth her while when he braces his wrist band to the lock over the door, when she’s leant against the wall with her irises lingering on him and her lashes batting coyly. She’s well-behaved, hands tucked behind her back like a combat to handsy temptation. 

It’s a different story behind the door. 

He makes it worth her while when her fingers toy at her crocheted halter, index perusing at the fabric below cleavage and brushing over chalky yarn. He makes it worth her time when he steps into her space all slow-like, face tipped down and the pink below his cupid’s bow worked into a soft curve, lengthy, deft digits working over the buttons of his shirt. An untamed tendril teases over one of his brows. Her hands meander from fondling at her own tits, at rogue pieces of yarn in the stitches, to straying up his ink-etched forearms. That’s when he lets her take over the work, when his arms snake over the vale of her waist. When his colossal hands cup lower, when he nudges forward and their mouths brush again. He licks into her mouth and rolls into the gap between her teeth.

Filthy kisses are shrouded behind closed doors, even in the easy ambience of a resort. Furlough on the greedy pursuit of pleasure, on some secluded island with crystalline waters, plus tequila — that’s practically a petri dish for hook up culture. But filthy kisses are saved for the bedroom, and there it’s taste buds doused in citrus limon and gray goose, a tip of a tongue swiping along a row of teeth, basking in the ridges. 

“What do you like, little minx?” Harry murmurs. He climbs the column of her throat with the ruddy border of a hungry cavern, and her pulse murmurs back under his mouth. “Hm?” 

The blunt tip of his forefinger traces her collarbone, follows a line of cleavage, toys at the cinch in her top; unravels her. It splits down the center, and the straps follow limply down her shoulders. Harry pinches a nipple and scrapes his teeth over her neck, humming again. 

Behind closed doors, his red-lycra-mystique (bare, her tits are bare now, in the backdrop of his picture) gets denuded to flesh when she shimmies the dress down her hips. He helps her and then tears his own shirt over his head. It’s hasty, like disrobing takes too much time from a place where time moves slower, riding the water in leisure. Harry still doesn’t know her name, and she slips to her knees, batting her lashes, and takes his buckle apart like unslotting puts the last of the puzzle pieces together. 

When her tongue rides under the ridge of his tip, delving and dragging over the prominent vein jutting on the underside of his shaft, he cranes his neck back and makes a sound like she’s torn into his chest with the tips of her french-polished manicure. He punctuates every pornographic, wet sound with dialogue.

“Christ, you’re a dream.” 

“Fuck, you’re pretty with cock in your mouth.” 

“Yeah, that’s it, just like that, sweetheart.” 

“—Y/N,” red-lycra-mystique supplies, gaze bouncing from the twist of her wrists at his base to his face, and then sweeps his bubbling head over her bottom lip and swallows him down halfway. 

“Y/N,” Harry mirrors, tone bathed in the same sweetness she radiates at his feet. 

And then she trails the very tips of her blunt nails up his sac, and the shiver that rolls up his spine short-circuits every feasible attempt of formulating something in english. Just… gone. Something splinters. 

Harry doesn’t cum all over her tongue, despite the pretty mental image he’d cherish of Y/N on her knees with ribbons of silky white coating the insides of her mouth. He thinks about the way he’d dip the pad of his thumb against her tongue, the way he’d stir and scrub it in. He thinks about her lips latching and her cheeks hollowing. 

He’s got immense willpower, particularly when she takes him all the way down until her nose nearly brushes the neatly-trimmed tuft of hair the tributary of his happy trail pools into. Because then, she pulls off, chin sloppy with saliva, mouth wide, and stares up at him with this wickedly indelicate curl to the corners of her mouth as she gasps in breaths. Like she wants him to. 

Instead, they make it to the bed. He splits her thighs with his palms and spits where she’s puffy and warm, leaky with longing, toying at the seam of her hole with his digits. Smooths the wetness with his thumb when he tucks two fingers in and laves his tongue at the crease between her inner thigh and her cunt. He bumps her clit with the tip and rolls, and her spine arches like the highest point of her torso peaks at the clouds of nirvana. 

“You’re a good girl,” Harry tells her, and his voice is so soft, like he’s reassuring an animal that’s backed itself into a corner, “Want you to drench my face.” 

And she does, because when he holds a placid, unwavering hand out and talks her so sweetly, lips suckling in a vacuumed ‘o’ between her thighs, what can she do besides roll her hips against his mouth in little, desperate juts, face creased before bliss spumes through every major artery.

When Harry sits back, his chin is sticky, glinting in the buttery cast of the lanterns drilled into the ceiling. He kisses her again until her jaw is stained with her own slick, and despite the entire basis of a one night stand, his tongue meddles into her mouth with the same passion of a man carving a piece of her open. A cozy lacuna just for him in the depths of her chest, something that’ll linger and yearn. A hungry chasm that’ll grumble when her cunt pulses — when he’s not there to fill it. She’ll think of him; a stranger’s leg flitting like a passing speck in the background of her photograph. 

Y/N’s cunt hugs him like it can’t get enough. 

Eventually. 

Because at first, it’s: too big, won’t fit, pleated brows when he’d split her spongy walls apart on the latex-coated tip, stretching to tuck in and hovering to imbibe in miniature ticks of her expression. A twitch in her lashes, a shift in the line of her mouth, a little swallow bobbing down the column of her throat. 

“You’re a good girl,” he’d crooned, smoothing a thumb over a rib and then her clit, just to see her squirm more over his cock. 

Eventually, she clambers over his lap, planting her palms back over inky, firm muscle. It’s leverage as she bounces to fill that starving cavity — the one he’d drilled with his tongue, like the shape of him can fill every square inch of space before they never see each other again. Hungry, hungry, hungry. 

“Come on, baby, come on,” Harry coaxes, a low groan mottled with breathy pants, “—Shit.” 

Momentarily, he pauses the guiding grasp he’s got over her hips to drag the pad of his thumb over his tongue lewdly, smearing spit over the digit and swiping circles over her clit, instead. In response, the rolling pace Y/N has set stutters, knees jolting, and her mussed hair spills off her shoulder as she cranes her neck back. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Yes, yes, yes—“

His eyes flit from her cunt to the ethereal line of her neck, the borders of her shoulders, the shape of her tits bouncing. 

Ultimately, of course, his gaze winds back down to ogle where they connect, because that’s the view — that’s where she swallows his cock, thighs splayed and trembling, gliding from the tip until about midway before rising and repeating the cycle. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. He draws his thumb lower, lets it meddle where they merge, where her hole flutters and rolls over him, gleaning the sticky arousal that coats his shaft and bringing the pad of it back to her clit. His eyes linger. Flicker up. Return to watch her ride and nearly roll back into his head. 

He’s carved the void, and later, when she tips forward and her nails scrape over his pecs, feral, she whittles her own. Later, the space between his thighs aches and heats. Something pulses on the underside of his balls. It yearns for blue curaçao, pellucid, crashing waters, and a skimpy red bikini. 

[digitalbranding1]

Essential Tips For Tile Cleaning In Gold Coast Properties

Cleaning your tile floors right is very important. It keeps your tiles shiny and long-lasting in your Gold Coast home. We will talk about why it matters to keep your tiles cleaning in Gold Coast.

More about: Stone Sealing Gold Coast | Grout Sealing Gold Coast | Grout Recolouring Gold Coast.

Keeping Up Appearances:

Cleaning your tiles often helps them look nice. It also keeps their beauty lasting a long time. Removing dirt and stains makes your tiles look fresh and clean. This makes your space look inviting too.

Protecting Your Investment:

Cleaning tiles is important. Hiring experts to clean your tiles in Gold Coast is a good idea. They use special cleaners and tools. This helps clean deep inside the tiles. The experts will not harm your floors when cleaning. Their work keeps your tile floors looking great and keeps their value.

Health And Hygiene:

Keeping tiles clean is very important for a good living space. Tiles that are dirty can have bacteria and things that cause allergies. These can make the air bad in your home or office place. Regular cleaning helps eliminate these health risks.

Preventing Damage:

Tiles need to get cleaned often. If you do not clean tiles regularly, the grout can wear down. The tiles can change color. Tough stains can happen. But cleaning tiles regularly is smart. It stops costly repairs. The tiles will last longer this way.

Enhanced Safety:

Cleaning tiles helps make things safer. It gets rid of slippery and dirty spots that could cause falls. Using high water pressure works well for removing hard stains. It brings back the non-slip quality of your tile floors.

Preserving The Aesthetic Appeal:

It is good to clean tiles regularly. This keeps tiles clean and looking nice. It does not matter if tiles are ceramic, stone, or porcelain. Frequent cleaning helps tiles stay beautiful. The floor's appearance stays original when tiles are cleaned properly. Cleaning tiles is important for keeping tilework looking great.

Choosing The Right Cleaning Products For Tiles

Keeping tiles clean is important. But you need to choose the right cleaning products. Here are some tips to help you:

1. Consider the Tile Material

Cleaning tiles needs special care. You must pick a cleaner that works well with your tile type. Ceramic, natural stone, and porcelain tiles all require specific cleaning products. The wrong cleaner could harm or damage these tiles. So, check the labels to ensure you purchase a compatible cleaning solution.

2. Avoid Harsh Chemicals

Use nice cleaning liquids for tiles and grout. Don't use strong chemicals. They can make tiles look bad over time. Strong chemicals can also mess up grout.

3. Read Product Labels

Take time to read the labels on cleaning products. These labels tell you what the products contain. They also explain how to use the products correctly. Look for cleaners that are safe for tiles. Also, look for cleaners that are safe for the environment. These cleaners are pH-neutral.

4. Test in a Small Area

Do a test on a small hidden part of your tiles? Use a new cleaning product there first. Make sure it does not discolor or damage the tiles. After that, you can safely use it on all your tiled surfaces.

5. Choose Specialized Products

For specific concerns like grout cleaning in Gold Coast, high pressure washing, or tile sealing, opt for specially developed cleaning solutions that target these issues effectively.

6. Consult Professionals

Keep your tiles clean. Talk to a professional cleaner. They will tell you the right products to use. The cleaners will also explain how to use these products well.

7. Importance of pH Balance

Keep the right acid and base balance in your cleaning products. This way they can clean dirt and stains off without damaging your tiles or grout. Some cleaners have too much acid or base. They can hurt tiles or grout. Other cleaners don't have enough power to clean well.

8. Focus on Quality

Use cleaning products that are good quality. These products will clean your tiles well. They will also protect your tiles and keep them looking new for a long time.

9. Environmental Considerations

Choose cleaning products that are good for the planet whenever you can. They make a smaller mess for the environment. They also help make the air inside your home cleaner.

10. Regular Maintenance

Using the correct cleaning products on a regular basis is important. It helps keep your tiled surfaces looking new for longer. It is a key step to take.

[ezydrycleaningservices]

Grime to Shine: Tile Cleaning in Gold Coast and Brisbane

Tiles are not just functional elements in our homes; they're also aesthetic assets that can greatly enhance the ambiance of our living spaces. However, over time, tiles can accumulate dirt, grime, and stains, detracting from their beauty and luster. In coastal areas like the Gold Coast and bustling urban centers like Brisbane, where the climate and lifestyle contribute to unique cleaning challenges, maintaining pristine tiles can be a daunting task. Now, we will we'll discuss the world of tile cleaning in Gold Coast and Brisbane, exploring effective strategies to transform your tiles from grime to shine.

Understanding the Challenges

The subtropical climate of the Gold Coast, with its high humidity and frequent rainfall, creates an environment conducive to mold, mildew, and algae growth on tiles. Similarly, Brisbane's urban setting exposes tiles to a myriad of pollutants, including dust, dirt, and vehicle emissions, which can accumulate on surfaces, dulling their appearance. Additionally, high foot traffic in commercial areas and busy households exacerbates wear and tear on tiles, making regular tile cleaning in Brisbane and Gold Coast area essential to preserve their longevity and aesthetics.

Effective Cleaning Techniques

Achieving sparkling tiles in Gold Coast and Brisbane requires a combination of proper techniques, suitable products, and regular maintenance. Start by sweeping or vacuuming the tiles to remove loose debris and dirt. Next, choose a cleaning solution that is compatible with your tile type and grout, whether it's porcelain, ceramic, natural stone, or mosaic. Diluted vinegar or commercial tile cleaning in Gold Coast and Brisbane are popular options for breaking down stubborn stains and grime.

For tougher stains and mold buildup, consider using a mixture of baking soda and water or hydrogen peroxide. Apply that solution to those affected areas, let it rest for a few moments, then scrub gently with a sponge or brush. Rinse properly with water to remove the residue. In areas prone to mold and mildew, such as bathrooms and kitchens, regular application of a mold inhibitor can help prevent recurrence.  

Professional Assistance for Tile Cleaning in Brisbane and Gold Coast

While DIY cleaning can yield satisfactory results for minor soiling, deep-seated stains, and extensive grime may require the expertise of professional tile cleaning services. Trained technicians equipped with specialized equipment and industry-grade cleaners for tile cleaning in Brisbane and Gold Coast area can tackle even the toughest cleaning challenges, restoring your tiles to their former glory without causing damage.

Benefits of Professional Tile Cleaning

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[sandstoneworks]

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[upsidedownwithsteve]

COMING SOON

The Harrington wasn’t necessarily the largest hotel on this side of the Italian coast, but it was certainly the most expensive.  

Built into the mountains of Sorrento, the white and clay coloured building looked more like a country manor, with ivy trailing from the trellis’ and climbing the walls. The windows had blue shutters that matched the colour of the sea that bordered the private patch of beach but the large, rectangular pool was a shocking cerulean colour that was seen even from the island across the bay. 

It was your favourite spot, always basked in Italian sunlight, the heat bouncing off of the patterned tiles. There were wooden cabana beds dotted around the pool edge, deep oak wood and sheer white linen curtains hanging from all four posts. They billowed gently in the sea breeze, showing off the pile of plush cushions inside, the gold tray on the mattress that sat waiting for glasses of sangria and saucers of martinis. 

Lemon trees bordered the property, tart citrus mixing with the salt air and by eight o’clock in the evening, the restaurant next door opened its doors and the smell of fresh pasta and garlic engulfed the outdoor patio. There was red wine on tap, a clawfoot tub by the window in your suite and a white robe with your name embroidered on the chest ready for your arrival. 

It’s why you came back each time, two weeks, every summer. (Plus a weekend in October, a few days in early spring, a day here and there when you needed a new handbag, a new pair of authentic leather loafers from Milan.)

That, and the owner's son, of course. 

[klemen-tine]

Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse

Part 1

Part 2

@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol

+++++++++++++

Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them. 

They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career. 

Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air. 

Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully. 

“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed. 

“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent. 

Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden. 

A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast. 

The unfairness of it all. 

“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans. 

“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions. 

When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food. 

“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.” 

“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.” 

Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about. 

“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’” 

“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor. 

Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason. 

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was. 

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of. 

They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness. 

It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne. 

Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.” 

“Just get in the car, Y/N!” 

“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!” 

“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!” 

“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.” 

“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.” 

Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in. 

“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened. 

They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family. 

“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.” 

“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile. 

“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?” 

“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands. 

“How many does this make?” 

“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.” 

“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips. 

Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy. 

Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother. 

Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears- 

“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other. 

Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners? 

“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now. 

Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.” 

“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip. 

“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.” 

++++

“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal. 

Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers. 

“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?” 

“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.” 

‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up. 

“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.” 

“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.”  Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?” 

Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her. 

True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–

“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?” 

Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side. 

“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?” 

“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat. 

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.” 

“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly. 

Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises. 

Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest. 

However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something? 

‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that. 

Would he? 

“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?” 

Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.” 

Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there. 

Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them. 

Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves. 

It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis. 

“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question. 

“How–” 

“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.

“Now Y/N-” 

“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions. 

“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.” 

“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker. 

“What parent doesn’t know-” 

“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.” 

Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing. 

“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras. 

“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out. 

“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?” 

“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person. 

“Y/N! Look over here!” 

“Look!”

“Over here!”  

A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.

The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present. 

“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection. 

“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.” 

“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face. 

“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.” 

“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.” 

“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.” 

Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.” 

“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look. 

“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.” 

“Others won’t believe that.” 

“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.” 

“And your’s do?” 

“We are family!” 

“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly. 

Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.” 

“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew? 

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is! 

I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.” 

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care. 

“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!

“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel. 

They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t. 

“Bruce finally sees it too.” 

Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry– 

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?” 

– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.” 

Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?” 

“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.” 

“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.” 

Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–” 

“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!

How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away. 

“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face. 

Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.” 

“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep. 

Because why not. 

“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.” 

“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail. 

“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.” 

Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral. 

“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction. 

A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be. 

If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.

Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids? 

Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image. 

It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in. 

Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here. 

“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open. 

“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.” 

“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore. 

They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.” 

“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner. 

E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room. 

Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint. 

“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?” 

‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.” 

Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.” 

“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…” 

“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.” 

When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions. 

Hovering or distancing. 

Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it. 

“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands. 

“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show. 

However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too. 

“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’ 

“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you. 

However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting. 

“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father. 

“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.” 

“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.” 

“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article. 

Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.

“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–” 

“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen. 

Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage

Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.

“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.

“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees. 

“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist. 

“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along. 

“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.”  Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?” 

Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?

“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.” 

+++++

“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers. 

“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!” 

“Good job Y/N!” 

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch. 

“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises. 

“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on. 

Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought. 

The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple. 

“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We’ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further. 

Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face. 

In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’ 

Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.  

Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow. 

“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more. 

“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.” 

“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist. 

He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” 

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Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.