#faster and less messy and easier to train | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ovencleaningprofessionals · 3 months ago

Text

Sparkling Results with the Best Oven Cleaning Professionals in Poole

When it comes to maintaining a clean and efficient kitchen, one of the most overlooked yet essential tasks is oven cleaning. Over time, grease, food residue, and burnt-on grime build up inside ovens, affecting performance and even food flavour. That’s why hiring oven cleaning professionals in Poole is a smart investment for any homeowner. Whether you’re preparing for a big family gathering or just want your oven back to its former glory, professional help can make all the difference.

In this article, we’ll explore the top reasons to choose a professional oven cleaning service near Poole, what to expect from expert cleaners, and how to find the best oven cleaning service near Poole that meets your needs.

Why Choose Professional Oven Cleaning Services in Poole?

A clean oven isn’t just about aesthetics—it plays a crucial role in kitchen hygiene, safety, and energy efficiency. Here’s why turning to a professional oven cleaner near Poole is a wise decision:

1. Deep Cleaning Expertise

Professionals use industry-grade tools and eco-friendly solutions to remove stubborn grime, burnt-on grease, and carbon deposits. Unlike DIY cleaning methods, a professional oven cleaning service Poole guarantees a thorough result without damaging your appliance.

2. Time-Saving Convenience

Cleaning an oven is messy, time-consuming, and often frustrating. By hiring an oven cleaning company near Poole, you save hours of scrubbing while achieving spotless results.

3. Improved Oven Efficiency

A clean oven heats more evenly, consumes less energy, and cooks food faster. With oven cleaning services in Poole, your appliance will perform like new.

What’s Included in Professional Oven Cleaning Services Near Poole?

When you book professional oven cleaning services near Poole, you can expect a comprehensive cleaning process tailored to your oven’s model and level of use. Here’s what the service typically includes:

Disassembly of Oven Components: Racks, trays, and fan plates are removed for a detailed clean.

Soak and Scrub: Parts are soaked in non-toxic, biodegradable cleaning solutions to loosen grease and carbon deposits.

Interior Clean: The interior of the oven is scrubbed using specialised tools to remove all traces of residue.

Reassembly and Final Polish: After cleaning, all parts are reassembled, and the oven is given a finishing polish.

Choosing a trusted oven cleaning company in Poole ensures that all these steps are handled professionally.

Domestic Oven Cleaning Services Near Poole: For Homes That Shine

If you’re a homeowner looking for domestic oven cleaning services near Poole, you’ll find many local companies offering bespoke services tailored to residential needs. Whether you have a single built-in oven, a range cooker, or an AGA, expert cleaners in Poole have the skills and experience to deliver immaculate results.

Domestic services are ideal for:

Busy families who cook regularly

Tenants at the end of a lease

Homeowners preparing their property for sale

Holiday rentals and Airbnb hosts needing a quick refresh

Booking oven cleaning near Poole has never been easier with many companies offering flexible appointments, weekend availability, and online bookings.

How to Choose the Best Oven Cleaning Service Near Poole

With so many options available, it’s essential to choose the right provider for professional oven cleaning service Poole. Here are a few key points to consider:

✅ Local Reputation

Check reviews and testimonials to ensure the company is trusted in the Poole area. A good oven cleaning company near Poole will have a strong local presence and positive customer feedback.

✅ Certified Technicians

Ensure the technicians are trained, fully insured, and knowledgeable about different oven brands and models.

✅ Eco-Friendly Products

A great professional oven cleaner near Poole uses non-toxic, fume-free solutions that are safe for children and pets.

✅ Transparent Pricing

Avoid hidden fees by choosing companies that offer upfront quotes for oven cleaning services in Poole.

Benefits of Hiring an Oven Cleaning Company in Poole

There are numerous advantages to choosing an oven cleaning company in Poole over attempting the job yourself:

Hygiene and Health: Regular professional cleaning removes bacteria and food particles that could contaminate your meals.

Safety First: Built-up grease can pose a fire hazard. A clean oven reduces this risk significantly.

Enhanced Appliance Lifespan: Routine cleaning helps prevent damage and extends the life of your oven.

Better Cooking Results: Even heat distribution means more consistent cooking and better-tasting food.

Recommended Frequency for Oven Cleaning Near Poole

While the frequency of oven cleaning depends on usage, it’s generally recommended to schedule a professional oven cleaning service near Poole every 6–12 months. If you bake or roast frequently, quarterly cleanings may be more appropriate.

Local Experts You Can Trust

Poole is home to several reliable and highly rated oven cleaning companies. Whether you're in Canford Heath, Broadstone, Parkstone, or Sandbanks, local providers can be at your doorstep quickly, equipped with all the necessary tools and products.

Many companies offer combined packages for hobs, extractor fans, and microwaves, allowing you to deep clean your entire cooking suite in one visit.

Final Thoughts: Say Goodbye to Oven Grime

If your oven is looking worse for wear or starting to smoke during use, it’s time to call in the oven cleaning professionals in Poole. From domestic cookers to high-end built-ins, there’s a local oven cleaning company in Poole ready to bring the shine back to your kitchen.

Don’t waste your weekends with endless scrubbing. Instead, choose a professional oven cleaner near Poole and enjoy a sparkling clean oven with zero hassle.

Quick Summary of Services

Service

Description

Oven Cleaning Services in Poole

Full deep-clean of residential ovens

Professional Oven Cleaning Service Poole

Certified technicians with eco-safe products

Domestic Oven Cleaning Services Near Poole

Ideal for homeowners and renters

Oven Cleaning Company Near Poole

Reliable local businesses with great reviews

Best Oven Cleaning Service Near Poole

High-quality, affordable, and convenient

Looking for the Best Oven Cleaning Service Near Poole?

When cleanliness, hygiene, and quality matter, choose Poole’s trusted professional oven cleaning services near Poole. Book your appointment today and enjoy a kitchen that feels brand new again.

Let me know if you'd like this formatted for your website, or turned into a downloadable article/press release format!

#oven cleaning professionals in Poole #professional oven cleaning service near Poole #best oven cleaning service near Poole #professional oven cleaning services near Poole

0 notes

automaticexpertnerd · 4 months ago

Text

Moving done right for Movers from Gaithersburg MD

When it is time to move packing is among the most time-consuming and difficult tasks. A lot of people don't realize the amount of effort necessary to pack safely their possessions, which usually causes damaged or a messy moving day. However, professionals moving companies who are located in Gaithersburg MD will manage all packing tasks with precision and care and ensure a smooth relocation.

Why Proper Packing is Crucial

A proper packing process goes beyond simply putting things in boxes. It requires planning along with the proper packing materials, and a secure wrapping to ensure your possessions arrive in a safe manner at the new place. Movers from Gaithersburg MD are well-trained to handle a variety of things, from fragile glassware to furniture that is large which reduces the risk of damage in transit.

This is why packing properly is crucial:

Protection from Damage: Professional movers use premium packing materials, such as packaging papers and strong boxes to avoid breaking or scratches to delicate objects.

efficient loading and unloading: Properly packed and marked boxes make loading and unloading faster and more efficient, thereby saving time on moving day.

Maximizing Space Professional movers are aware of how to maximize the space in moving trucks, which allows them to carry more things within smaller trips.

Benefits of Hiring Professional Movers in Gaithersburg MD for Packing

It's not only about packing items into boxes. It takes meticulous preparation and implementation. Here's how moving companies from Gaithersburg Maryland can assist you in packing:

1. Expert Packing Techniques

Professional movers are experienced in packing valuable, fragile and unusually-shaped items. If it's glassware that is delicate or artwork, electronic equipment or furniture that is bulky They know the best way to secure your possessions while in transit.

2. Time-Saving Solution

The process of packing can take several days or even weeks according to what size you have for your house. When you employ moving companies to Gaithersburg MD, you will drastically cut down on the time you spend packing. They will be equipped with the necessary materials and can even pack your entire home in less time that it takes.

3. Proper Labeling

One of the most important aspects of a properly organized moving process is the labeling. Professional movers ensure that every box is labeled with respect to its contents and the room it is going to. This makes unpacking quicker and easier after you have arrived at your new residence.

4. Packing Supplies Provided

Instead of buying boxes tape, boxes, and bubble wrap, the majority of moving companies offer packing materials in their package. This will save you money and assures that your belongings are protected with top quality items.

How to Prepare for Professional Packing Services

If you're thinking of hiring the services of movers in Gaithersburg MD to provide packing services Here are a few steps to help make the process easier:

Decluttering: Before the movers arrive, clear out things you don't need anymore. This will reduce the number of items you have to pack, and can save you money on moving.

Extra Essentials to Keep: Take a different bag that contains essentials like clothing, toiletries, as well as important documents you'll require immediately following the move.

Be Clear: Let your movers know about any things that require special care or handling.

Final Thoughts

It is the most stressful aspect of moving however it doesn't have to be. If you hire professionals to move your belongings who are based in Gaithersburg MD will ensure that your belongings are stored effectively, safely and with the highest attention to. If you're moving locally or across the country, their professional packing services can help make the process easier and more efficient.

If you're thinking of moving and would like to be free of the stress of packing, call the movers from Gaithersburg MD now. Let professionals manage the packing process so that you can concentrate on getting settled at your new home.d

#startup #packaging #moving #packers and movers #local movers #movers near me

1 note · View note

danse--macabre · 2 years ago

Text

I think Tirazel / Astarion is actually a really interested dynamic where trauma has forced them in seemingly opposite directions sexually (seemingly!).

Tirazel pursues sex recklessly without abandon or shame, because she wants to, because she can, because she's afraid she won't get the chance again, because she's spent almost her whole life being treated like a porcelain doll who cannot be tainted. She's in the process of unpacking that, but perhaps hasn't fully thought through what she wants/needs and is just pressing the accelerator.

Astarion, meanwhile, has been pushed into a lifetime of luring people via sex, and is really only just coming to terms with the fact that he does not need to do that anymore. He's just learning to press the brakes.

Astarion, therefore, is actually quite fearful of telling Tirazel he needs to stop, because their early relationship is quite transparently about sex and flirtatious banter, and he's afraid he'll lose Tirazel's support if he withholds it. I think Tirazel, who is trained to read people, especially when they lie, realises slowly some of his discomfort, offers to stop/slow down a few times before that conversation occurs (which he refuses at first - he can't have a crack in his mask, he cant admit such weakness).

But the thing is... I think it's *intimacy* Tirazel craves really. Sex is a form of that, but Tirazel also just craves to touch, to hold, and to love (though she dares not express this last desire, it's so dangerous) - to be emotionally close, intimate, with someone. Sex is just easier, faster, and far less messy than giving her heart to someone (though how desperately she wants to love, and give it to someone special!). I think Tirazel is therefore quite accommodating of Astsrion once she realises she hasn't done anything wrong. There's a vulnerable moment of, 'wait, do you not want to be with me? have I done something wrong?' that Tirazel *needs* to explore - because Tirazel is used to being desired for her body and presumes sex is necessary to secure interest - but once it's clarified that she's done nothing wrong, she's happy to acquiesce. I think as soon as Astarion begins to show a crack in the mask Tirazel just tears hers off, goes from coy banter about 'You're not getting sentimental on me, are you?' -> 'I care about you' just... immediately. And so when the request to slow down comes, there's confusion, but also just an earnest moment of 'Can I just hold you? I still have you, yes? Let me have you (holds very gently)'. Tbh it's probably good for Tirazel to slow down, it makes her consider what she wants and helps her solidify the idea that there will be life after all this Is Done.

on sexuality, I think there's a couple of important things to understand about tirazel:

- tirazel's mother is a former sex worker who was "promoted" to mafia trophy wife (second wife, of course)

- tirazel's father has wealth, has power, has a house in the upper city - but he wants accolades and status. he can cement this by having his daughter marry into nobility

- tirazel is the youngest of six and the only daughter

as a result, tirazel was raised with the expectation her patriarchal crime lord father would arrange a favourable match with a nobleman, and that her role, until then, is to be an attractive bauble - enough to lure candidiates in - but untouchable and unsullied - that means no relationships, no liaisons, no sex; her father will hurt anyone who tries touch her (& she will be punished for 'her foolish insolance', because she's 'his silly little girl' who clearly cannot be trusted to make her own decisions).

so that means despite this appearance of being a dazzling, beguiling, belle of the ball figure in her late teens - and all the men (they are all men, her father's very heteronormative) she's courting presume, due to her common birth, her mobster father, her ex-sex worker mother, that she's licentious and sexually wild, they project this onto her - when she's actually someone very inexperienced both in love and sex. her experiences involve maybe one early sincere interest that is cut short by her father's intervention, perhaps a handful of sincere interests that are cut short by her own hand for fear of what her father might do, and then lots and lots of empty teasing, flirting, and then cruelly spurning of candidates she doesn't particularly like - out of spite, out of miserable boredom, out of the fact that it's what seems to be expected of her given the court thinks she's some devious seducer (she's just nineteen).

it's no wonder that tirazel runs away ~aged 20, not with a man who is pretty or cares for her, but a clear and obvious charlatan who works for someone who has power. she spends ~2 years living and working in the undercity as the trophy of this charlatan while trying to attract the attention of his powerful employers (who also manipulate and use her), hoping to attain some autonomy and power of her own.

that all goes tits up, of course, and she ends up imprisoned in her chambers by her father for ~3 years (who is scandalised by how she went off the rails and says he intends to punish and protect her in equqal measure), which is where she really intensely doubles down on the necromancy btw, and only gets out by pulling favours after being 'on good behaviour'.

so aged 25, tirazel, belatedly, goes to a wizard academy. her only long-term relationships before then have been with two deeply manipulative people (the charlatan and later his boss, who was tirazel's first exploration of her bisexuality) who have sought to use her wealth, wits, or growing power, and have groomed her. otherwise she's been cloistered, sexually frustrated, denied. it was incredibly freeing to go to the academy and, with enough distance, pretty much do what she like, sleep with basically anyone she wanted (if she was careful eneough), and have some of the best sex of her life - certainly where tirzel studied, there were lots of oportunities for no-strings flings. there's a banter that comes up about wizards being Without Game and tirazel will laugh and tell you that's what they want to think, and in truth she had far more fun 'frolicking' in the university library than she ever did as the belle of the ball.

her father attempts to remove her from he academy not long before the nautiloid abduction, and when you meet tirazel, she's about thirty, she's still very much single, and she's unapologetically interested in sex, in her own desires, is happy to sleep around camp and with others, and sees this as reclaiming herself, her body, and also refusing to be ruled by her father's anxieties that, like her mother, she's just 'a monstruous wh*re' by blood. she recoils at attempts to be possessive or any petty jealousy directed your way, and while you can be exclusively monogamous with her, that's a conversation you have to have. she'll bristle at anything like 'you're mine' -> will respond, 'I'm not anyone's thing'. her life and story has been deeply anchored in misogyny, biphobia, and hatred of sex workers - and Tirazel is at a stage in her life where she refuses to bow to those forces and wants to live as she pleases.

#the idea of reflecting astarion's act 1 'have you' dialogue but it's about holding someone very gently...

2 notes · View notes

athenamgh · 4 years ago

Text

DON'T FORGET ME - #I

a/n: veryy veryy old idea.. lets see if smth good of it will come out... btw it will have at least two parts

paring/s: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

summary: two broken hearts need to heal each other.. but will they..

warning/s: tears, angst, fluff (i am soo not sure....)

word count: 1.7k

Chapter I | Chapter II

Natasha Romanoff MASTERLIST

You slowly opened your eyes and they met the dark ceiling. It seemed it was still an early morning because the room was still sinking in the dark. You slowly turned your head to the side, your palm brushing through the empty space aside. Suddenly, you tightly clenched the sheets in your fist, closing your eyes strongly.

You slowly opened your eyes and they met two beautiful forest green orbs. Before you could notice your body was already acting in it’s own way, your face spread a bright smile. Natasha was looking at you with those dark green eyes, you could drown in, her hair messy due to the sleep, made her look even more beautiful whenever.

You gently brushed the loose strand of hair, whispering “Good morning gorgeous”. A soft smile spread her soft lips and reddish crawl up her face. She was about to cover herself, to hide her face with sheets, but you gently caught her wrists. “Don’t you dare to run from me”.

Natasha looked at you with a challenging look “Or what?”. Your face crept up a smirk, you quickly brought your hands to her sides starting to tickle her.

The laugh filled the room. She was trying to defend herself, but your hands there faster running across her body. “Okay, okay,” she giggled, “stop now, please” , but you didn’t want to let her go so easily.

“Say, that you won’t hide from me ever again”, Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly, her lips spread a wide smile, she nodded. Romanoff wrapped her hands around your neck, looking deep into your eyes, admiring the pure affection sparking in them.

“I would never want to be apart from you y/n”. You felt her hand brush your cheek, then slim fingers ghosting your bottom lip. All this time your eyes didn’t disconnect even for a breath second.

In a moment of surprise Natasha swiftly flipped two of you over, now she was on the top straddling your waist. You widely smiled at her tricky move, lifting yourself up on your forearms “I will never be able to stay away from you, huh?” you asked, astonished.

Natasha leaned forward for a moment with a mischievous smile, placing her index finger on your bottom lip making your tongue brush it lightly “Well, that’s the plan, dear..”.

You lifted your eyebrow playfully, “Oh, really?”.

“Mhm,” she giggled, now shaping your strong jawline with her finger.

“Well, then how about we make it even, huh?.” Her lips parted, her tongue liking her bottom lip while looking up at you. “You will never be able to get me out of your head,” you said with such a low almost husky voice.

She leaned her head to the side slightly because of your statement, from her eyes you could tell she was intrigued. “And how would you possibly do that?” she said seductively.

Suddenly you lifted yourself up from your elbows making her sit down in your lap. A gasp escaped her lips at the sudden closeness, her hands resting on your chest. You looked at her deep green eyes, analyzing every detail of it. While your fingers ghosted the side of her neck, then lingered at her collarbone. You noticed she was holding her breath, looking stunned at you. At this moment Natasha Romanoff only belonged to you and you only belonged to her. Then, with both of your hands, you gently took the sides of her face. Bringing her closer to you, one of your thumbs brushing the soft skin of her cheek, your lips inches apart, but before they could touch one another, you whispered, “This…” and your lips blended together into a perfect kiss.

You shot your eyes open. Sweat covering your body. You sit up in the bed crawling into the ball. Your hand now tangled in your hair, cheeks riding down salty tears.

---

It was a late evening. Moon step by step climbing up the dark sky to settle in for a night. The room was quiet, just the sound of the light rain tears from time to time interrupted the comfortable silence. Natasha was curled up into the ball near the window, her eyes lost somewhere far in the distance, guarding something or someone.

The sudden movement inside of the room interrupted the peaceful, but gloomy atmosphere. “You know, you need to leave your room sometimes,” Steve’s voice reached her ears.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you knocked sometimes,” Natasha said without turning around.

“You are becoming a hater, Nat.” this time she just ignored his comment, drowning somewhere deep in her own world.

Since the day Steve has met Natasha, he kind of promised himself he would do everything he can to protect her, of course, as everyone else who was part of his life. Natasha for Steve was such a dear friend and he hated so much seeing Nat like this: broken, hurt, lost. And there was just so little he could do to lighten the Romanoff’s pain.

“It’s been months Nat”.

“And it seems like nothing has changed…” Natasha’s voice almost sank into the whisper.

“She is still on your mind, isn’t she?” Natasha turned around, brushing the tear sliding down her face. Her eyes reddish and cheeks stained with tears. “And it hurts too?”

Taking a deep breath Natasha parted her lips “If I didn’t feel the pain, maybe it would be easier to forget? Forget how good it felt, how bright and beautiful everything looked, how sweet it all sounded, to forget it all...” Steve’s face softened, he came up to Natasha, sitting beside her.

“Nat,” he stopped for a moment, thinking. “They say with time the pain fades away, but they always forget to mention how in fact long it takes to finally feel it calm down even a tiny bit. It seems the pain gets more and more powerful with every day until it almost claims you completely.” Natasha’s gazed down, her hand tightly clenching the blanket.

“And there is nothing. Not even the shining armor you suited yourself to protect your heart or giant walls you built around to save yourself from pain, will hardly defend you from what your heart desires.” Steve continued. “And even then all the pain fades away, you won’t forget it. It will always be in the back of your mind and heart, lingering there and never fading away.” He reached to take her hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment and letting it go, making Natasha to look up. “Because Nat, you can’t just stop loving someone who you fall for so unconditionally. Your heart will never forget someone who once made you truly happy.” Steve saw how the last tear rolled out on Natasha’s cheek.

“I knew you were sentimental bastard, but not that strong” she said jokingly and Steve for the first time in month’s saw her lips spread a tiny smile even if it was for only a moment.

“What should I do?” she asked, her eyes filling with new tears again.

“Natasha, only you can decide what to do, what or who to choose.” She barely nodded. “Now, get some sleep, a long day is waiting for you tomorrow,” Steve said while walking towards the doors. He was about to exit, but Natasha’s voice stopped him, making Steve turn around

“Thank you, I don’t think I say it enough”. Steve gave her a soft smile before leaving.

---

The sound of someone entering the small grocery store interrupted the soft music playing in the background. You were standing in front of one of the shop shelves, searching for the right ingredients for dinner. It was probably a good idea to make at least one home meal. Instead of buying pizza or any other meal that you could possibly order directly to your apartment.

You were about to grab a serial box, but suddenly you heard a familiar voice. “Y/n?” you turned to your right, recognizing the person.

“Oh, Wanda” you greeted each other with a warm hug. “What are you doing here?” You shook your head a little, “I mean, obviously you are in the grocery store because of the food.”

Wanda released a small laugh, “Yeah, that’s how it kind of works. Or the shop just convinces you that you need something, even if you really do not.” You chuckled lightly agreening.

Wanda stepped closer to you, reaching to crease your left arm “So, how are you doing?”

You glanced down “You know, I would say that I'm okay’ or ‘Everything is alright’,” You looked up at her, facing her concerned face “But I know you know me better than that, so I would just say… I don’t know, I really don’t know.” Wanda nodded slightly

“I hope everything will be okay soon.” You nodded, barely smiling.

You shook your head a little, asking “Less about me, how are you and the avengers?”

“They are good. Nothing new lately, just a few missions here and there, everything as usual. Thor is too busy being a badass and worrying about his hair, Tony and Bruce working on some kinda project that I am too confused yet to talk about, I keep myself busy with training stuff and helping Steve and Nat.." Wanda's voice cut off at the last name, realizing what she said, you heart skipped a beat at the sound of the name that left Wanda's lips.. After a moment more Wanda continued ''Everyone is just keeping themselves busy, ever. Long story short everyone is okay”.

“Not all happy, but okay” she added, listening to her last words made your heart ache even more. “We miss you, you know?”

You smiled with a small smile at her words “Yeah, I miss you too guys..”

Wanda looked at you for a moment “Would you come to the party tomorrow that Tony is throwing?” You looked at her hesitantly. “Come on” she pushed you shoulder. “We would love to see you”

You looked at the ground for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. “I’ll promise to consider it,” you said, looking up at Wanda.

“That’s all I need” her lips spread a wide smile. “I see you there!” she said walking away. You rolled your eyes at her playfully.

---

As you stood in front of a mirror smoothing your palms over the small wrinkles on your dark velvet suit, the only thought that was lingering in your mind was how desperately you wanted to crawl up in a ball in your bed and just stay like that forever. You didn’t want to go to that party.

~~> |Chapter II| <~~

149 notes · View notes

mianavs · 4 years ago

Text

the re-education

Falling in Stockholm part 5 (finale)

a/n: thank you for all of the likes and reblogs! a sequel will be written in the future with another major character that i hinted at in the beginning~ hope you guys enjoy this final part :)

tw: non-con, somnophilia, smut, torture, mind break

wc: 2.3k

Falling in Stockholm

You were at an onsen.

The hot water surrounding your naked form relaxed your fatigued muscles and enveloped you in pleasure. The longer you soaked in the steaming outdoor bath, the warmer your cheeks became and the dizzier you felt. Leaning back against the rock wall, you closed your eyes as a jet of water rose up and surged between your upper thighs drawing a low moan from you. Released of all your tension, your mind fogged up and eyelids grew heavy as your body began to nod off.

Hard grips on your thighs and a painful intrusion in your cunt woke you up to your horrific reality. Your limbs were still restrained by leather straps and tied to the four corners of the bed. The blindfold was still secured over your eyes and served to distort your sense of reality. Cool air still tickled your naked body that remained splayed open as the initial dull pain between your legs dissipated. Your captor’s ministrations on your sex while you slept made it easier for him to slip in and out of your slickened cunt.

Dabi’s disembodied grunts stopped when you started to struggle against his hold on your thighs.

“I knew this was the best way to wake you up.” He laughed still rutting into you like an animal in heat.

“Sick bastard!”

At your insult, Dabi slammed his length painfully into your abused hole. Each thrust hit your cervix without fail until you were whimpering in pain from the roughness with which he fucked you.

“H-hurts. It hurts! Agh-”

Dabi’s deformed hand gripped your throat depleting your lungs of air. Soon, your body began to spasm and choked gasps escaped your mouth as you desperately writhed underneath his iron grip.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Dabi chuckled but continued pounding into your messy cunt. “You tighten up when you can’t breathe.”

Dabi’s cruel laugh faded away as the lack of oxygen messed with your head. Specks of white dotted your darkened vision while your body tensed painfully as the remnants of your will to fight were squeezed out you. It was all too much and you eventually stopped resisting. Barely holding on to your consciousness, one final groan and hot spurts of semen into your womb preceded the release of your throat. Wheezing and coughing for air, you never appreciated the feeling of Dabi’s cum oozing out of your cunt more than you did in that moment.

The weight on top of you shifted and the bed creaked as Dabi got off and walked away. The hum of the bathroom light followed by the sound of running water served to calm you down while your breathing evened out. The longer the blindfold stayed on, the easier it was for your mind to wander until you eventually succumbed to sleep.

You were drowning.

Cold water splashed your face and you woke up gasping and coughing on a soaked bed. The clanking noise of metal bouncing on concrete made you jump in surprise. Your ears then started to ring and your drumming heart rose to your throat clogging your windpipe until you couldn’t breathe. The panic attack wreaked havoc on your mind and body and you tugged at your restraints and screamed like a wild animal. The sound of Dabi’s footsteps stopped your hoarse screams and overwhelming terror stiffened every muscle until you lay absolutely rigid.

“Shhh…it’s time for your re-education,” Dabi’s hand hovered over your cheek but you recoiled from his touch. A sound of displeasure left his lips before his hand connected with your face and a harsh crack echoed in your ears.

“Who are you?”

Dabi’s question was met with your silence. You didn’t know what answer he wanted and believed remaining silent was your best bet. There was a deafening silence before a disembodied sigh came from Dabi that was then followed by the crack of a whip.

“AGH!-”

“Who are you?” The question was the same but you made sure to answer this time.

“Y/N!” You cried out not knowing what else to say but hoped it would stop the torture.

Dabi brought the whip down on your right leg this time and tears burned your eyes. The excruciating pain from the whip was similar to the one his quirk inflicted and that, along with your already weakened state, crumbled away at your cracked sanity.

“H/N!”

“L/N!”

“FUCK!”

“HELP-“

No matter what you said, the crack of the whip remained constant. To your horror, Dabi started hitting the same spots ripping open old wounds or making fresh ones on the expanse of your skin. In your delirious state, you weren’t sure if the warm dampness on your skin was leftover water, sweat, or blood.

“…d-don’t…know,” you mumbled, trembling violently. “W-who…am I?”

The sound of the whip made you flinch instinctively, only this time it hit the ground instead. You waited for Dabi to make a sound, a movement, but he remained still while you waited for the pain to come.

“Mine,” that rough voice replied. “You’re mine.”

Suddenly, hands clasped your cheeks and you gasped in response. His warm breath drew closer to your face and you braced yourself for another rough kiss only to feel it travel to your ear.

“Years ago, I was a lost child until the Mayor saved me—just like you. He trained me separately but told me everything about you. Your quirk, your personality, your strengths, your weaknesses, but most importantly he told me about our future. He wanted us to work together—to be together—and take down hero society.”

“M-mayor?” Cohesive thoughts were beyond the capabilities of your fractured mind. That one word was the only thing you could get out.

“Mhmm,” Dabi purred into your ear. “He trained me just like he trained you. We were going to meet soon but those heroes had to go and ruin everything. They killed the Mayor and took you away from me.”

Memories of the Mayor’s death flooded your mind. The stand-off between him and a faceless hero. You, jumping in between them to shield the Mayor like he’d train you to do. Exhausting your quirk and being thrown out of the way. And finally, the life leaving the Mayor’s eyes as you crawled to his body with tears streaming down your face.

You couldn’t reject your memories any longer. The Mayor had been like a father to you and his death had hurt you as much as your parent’s death did. The heroes had to pry you away from his corpse and even then, you fought against them tooth and nail. The only way they managed to control you was with tranquilizers and quirk inhibitors. For a couple of months, your new reality consisted of hospital visits, interrogations, and drugs until the HPSC molded you into an obedient child that they could ship off to an orphanage.

“I t-tried but…heroes…too strong.”

“I know, I know.” Dabi reassured you by pressing his lips to your temple; this time you didn’t pull away. “Do you understand now? I’m making things right again. I’m trying to help you, Y/N. The heroes messed with your head but I’m gonna make it better—just like the Mayor.”

“H-hurt?” You whimpered after Dabi’s warmth disappeared.

“The faster you let go of your hero identity, the less it’ll hurt.”

Your re-education continued with Dabi posing questions and you answering them honestly. Dabi could tell when you were lying and would punish you accordingly.

“You know better than to lie to me, Y/N.”

The punishments Dabi inflicted were less harsh after your conversation. It was like Dabi knew you were trying to fix your tainted mindset and rewarded you by not hurting you so much. In turn, you stopped seeing Dabi as a villain and saw him more like a mentor. He was going through these great lengths to help you and you accepted each burn, slap, punch, cut, and bruise with gratitude.

Each session ended with a kiss to your forehead and sweet words of praise that made your heart soar with pride. Dabi always cleaned you up after each session. He released you from your restraints, cleaned and disinfected your wounds, gave you a bath every now and then, and made sure to feed you and give you water before lying you on the bed. You usually fell asleep before he tied you back up but even when you didn’t, you never fought him on it. After all, everything Dabi did was for your own good.

Then, just when your mind was almost completely fixed, you woke up to a deafening silence that seemed to last forever. You realized Dabi wasn’t in the room nor in the premises and you grew anxious. The longer he was gone, the darker your thoughts became regarding what had happened to him. A particularly terrifying thought that came to mind incited a full-blown panic attack that left you sweaty shaky mess.

What if the heroes got him?

What if they find me and ruin me again?

What if they killed him?

No No No No!

You needed Dabi. He couldn’t just leave you like that. He promised to make things better. He promised to fix you. You couldn’t live without him; you were his. You lay on the bed with tears soaking your blindfold until poisonous thoughts flooded your mind and contorted your fear into rage.

It’s the heroes’ fault.

Those bastards will pay if they hurt him.

I’ll kill them all

Your mind and body eventually tired themselves out and you fell into a deep sleep. With your mind altered to what it had once been, you dreamt of the Mayor. He looked the same as he’d been when he’d died while you were your current age. He wore a proud smile on his normally hard-set face as he looked at you. Suddenly, his eyes shifted and you felt a presence next to you. Turning, you saw Dabi standing next to you. He looked down at you with a smirk before possessively wrapping his arm around you and bringing you to his chest. You closed your eyes and melted into him, inhaling his signature scent of musk and smoke. Looking back to the Mayor, his smile had grown seeing you and Dabi together and approached the two of you. Basking in the warm feeling of being in Dabi’s arms and having the Mayor’s approval, you closed your eyes and hoped the dream would never end.

The rattling of the door woke you up in an instant. Your entire body tensed as you waited for the door to open and the sound of footsteps to inform you who it was. You’d burned the sound of Dabi’s footsteps into your memory ever since he’d taken away your sight.

When the door swung open and the familiar lazy shuffle of Dabi’s feet reached your ears, you broke out in tears of relief. Your cries seemed to shock the man who stopped moving for a while before rushing to your side.

“W-where w-were…you?! I-I was…w-worried!” Your body shook as sobs tore through you.

Dabi remained silent but you heard him take a step forward and before you knew it, his hands hovered over your ankles and undid your restraints before working on the ones around your wrists. When your hands were finally free, you ripped off the soaked material over your eyes only to be blinded by the harsh florescent lights of the room. As soon as your eyes adjusted, you were able to make out Dabi’s face.

After not being able to see him in what seemed like forever, you were overcome with emotion as your eyes hungrily took in his face. He looked tired and worn out but, other than that, perfectly imperfect. The disfigured face that once made you sick, now made your heart race.

With tears of joy, you threw your weak arms around his neck and clung to him, burying your face in his neck.

“Please! D-don’t…leave a-again”

His arms wrapped around your waist and held you up. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as heat pooled into your core the longer Dabi’s hands were splayed on your bare skin. It felt like an eternity since he’d held you so intimately and you craved more. Taking matters into your own hands, you trailed your mouth up his marred neck to his face leaving a path of kisses in your wake.

“I…missed you,” you admitted to his astonishment before you crashed your lips onto his deformed ones.

You took the initiative, tasting his mouth and relishing in the warmth of his wet tongue. Your fingers dug into his messy hair and used it as leverage to pull him closer, deepening your kiss. The trance Dabi was in broke when you began tugging on his hair and he took over the kiss, leaving you breathless and aroused.

Soon, a familiar ache in your sex had you grinding against Dabi’s jeaned thigh for some much-needed friction. Noticing your intentions, Dabi smirked against your mouth before resting his knee on the bed and allowing you to straddle his thigh. As you continued to desperately rub your clit on the rough material, he kissed and sucked on a sensitive spot on your neck that drew soft whimpers from your bruised lips. Your slick dribbled out of your cunt and covered Dabi’s leg but you didn’t let that stop you from chasing your orgasm.

A strangled cry and your creamy cum coating Dabi’s jeans signaled your release. Exhausted from your exertions, you collapsed against Dabi completely spent. He held you up as he maneuvered himself to sit on the bed before setting you down on his lap and wrapping his arms around you. Snuggling against his chest, you could hear his rapid heartbeat that matched your own and it was all you needed to admit out loud the realization you’d come to.

“I…love you, Dabi.” You murmured, desperately clutching his shirt as if that would stop him from ever leaving you again. “Please…stay with me.”

“Always.” Dabi replied tightening his hold on you as if that would keep you by his side forever.

338 notes · View notes

diaphragmjellyfish · 4 years ago

Text

Miguel Diaz NSFW Alphabet

Requested by @artemisfoul09

A: Aftercare

Miguel arguably likes aftercare more than sex. Ok, well maybe not. But he still loves it. In his opinion, sex isn’t over until you’re cleaned off, fed, and cuddled until you fall asleep. He has been known to carry you into the bath and lay with you in the warm water while you guys come back down to Earth.

B: Body Part

His favorite body part of yours is your boobs. Big or small, he loves to watch them jiggle while you guys go at it. It’s the first place his hands go when you guys are making out. His favorite body part of his is his arms. Ever since he started training with Sensei Lawrence, he’s been building some muscle, and he loves being able to pick you up and hold you against a wall with your legs around his waist.

C: Cum

Like I said, Miguel LOVES your boobs. That’s always where he wants to cum. Y’all are safe kiddos so you always wrap it up, but he says finishing in a condom is weird and messy, so you guys decided that boobs were the place to go.

D: Dirty Secret

He’s always wanted to try role play. Him as the sensei and you as the student. And y’all start fighting and he pins you to the mats… you know how it goes *wink wink*

E: Experience

Little to none let’s be honest. He was with Sam for like a week and they never really did more than make out so Miguel needs to take things pretty slow at first. But what he lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm. This boy will do whatever you ask him to. He’s a fast learner, and excited to make you feel good.

F: Favorite Position

Missionary or cowgirl. He likes to see your face and isn’t too interested in the advanced moves quite yet. He just wants to enjoy sex and look at his hot girlfriend.

G: Goofy

Umm yes. This goes without saying. Miguel is super goofy during sex. He loves to crack jokes and lighten the mood, especially since you are both super nervous in the beginning of the relationship. Of course, he can be serious if it’s a super passionate moment, but you fell for him because he’s so silly and cute and he likes to let that shine in the bedroom.

H: Hair

He’s usually trimmed. He shaved it all off once and hated it! It was so itchy and prickly. The only reason he doesn’t have a full bush is because he thinks it’s easier to keep clean when it’s shorter. He also doesn’t care if you’ve shaved anything or not. The way he thinks of it is that you’re both adults and hair is natural, so why should either of you feel insecure about it?

I: Intimacy

Miguel loves a good intimate moment. This doesn’t always have to do with sex though. Sometimes it’s just laying in bed playing with each others’ hair or having deep conversations about the future. But when it is during sex, he’s been known to light a candle or two and make cute little playlists to have on in the background.

J: Jack off

He does it a lot. He used to feel bad about thinking of you while doing it because he didn’t want to be disrespectful, but since you guys have been having sex, he feels okay about it now. He’s a teenage boy! It’s at least a daily thing. Obviously he would rather have sex with you, but you can’t be together all the time.

K: Kink

Bondage. He likes to tie your hands up above your head with his karate belt.

L: Location

The bedroom. He doesn’t want to have to worry about interruptions. He also doesn’t like it when you hold back moans. Miguel wants the full experience every time and the best way to get that is with some privacy.

M: Motivation

He always gets going if you agree to let him teach you some karate. The sweat, the physical contact, the tight workout clothes… He also loves when you give him The Look across the room at a party or in school or something. The anticipation builds up all day and he just gets more and more excited to finally get to you.

N: No

He would never do anything that made you unable to breathe. Whether that was choking, deepthroating, ball gags, whatever. It would make him so nervous and he wouldn’t be able to enjoy anything because he’d be too worried about whether you had enough oxygen or not.

O: Oral

This boy’s absolute favorite pastime is having you go down on him. He could sit there holding your hair back and looking at your big innocent eyes for the rest of his life. He also loves going down on you. He was pretty apprehensive at first because he wanted to do a good job but once he gets comfortable he really starts to enjoy it.

P: Pace

He likes to take things slow, and really enjoy the ride. He doesn’t want to miss anything. The first time you asked him to legit rail you, he said no. He was too worried about hurting you or making things too intense. You guys had to work your way up to it. Now he’s much more comfortable being rough with you because you reassured him that he was definitely not hurting you. Despite the screaming ;)

Q: Quickie

Miguel isn’t that into quickies. Like I said, he enjoys taking his time and making sure you both are enjoying yourselves.

R: Risk

Later in your relationship, he starts to open up a bit more and try some new things. He wants to try some new positions, new locations, maybe even a butt plug.

S: Stamina

Ok so just like with Hawk, he has little to none in the beginning. They’re teenage boys! You are literally his first girlfriend so he lasts 8 minutes TOPS. But he can go a couple rounds and is very generous with foreplay and always insists on finishing you with his fingers if he cums before you. You are never left unsatisfied with Miguel.

T: Toy

Miguel will use toys if you like them. He’s so eager to please he’ll do whatever you want him to. I will say though, this boy loves lube. He thinks it makes everything better, faster, smoother, wetter. This boy would basically roll in it before getting on top of you. He feels like he’s less likely to hurt you when you guys use it, too.

U: Unfair

He’ll tease you sometimes during foreplay, but when it comes down to it, Miguel doesn’t really like anything that keeps him from touching you.

V: Volume

He can be pretty loud if he really gets into the zone. Lots of moans and grunts. He is also very encouraging of you making a lot of noise. Miguel gets off on your moans. The louder, the better in his opinion.

W: Wild Card

This boy is AMAZING with his hands. I mean just look at them. He knows all kinds of little tricks with his fingers and can have you finishing in mere minutes. Sometimes if you guys are at a party, he will slip his hand down the front of your pants under the table and play with you.

X: X-Ray

Long and skinny. Maybe 7 inches? But like I said with Hawk, size really is overrated. The G spot is only 3 inches in so as long as he’s hitting it right, you’re good.

Y: Yearning

Very high. He could literally go at the drop of a hat. Whenever you’re game, he’s game.

Z: Zzz

Miguel passes out as soon as he’s done taking care of you. And he sleeps hard post-sex. Like, construction right outside the window wouldn’t even make him stir, hard. He will also keep you cuddled up in a death grip while y’all are asleep. You have to literally pry yourself out of his arms.

#cobra kai #miguel x reader #miguel diaz #hawk #robby keene #karate kid #xolo mariduena #ck #netflix

222 notes · View notes

lovelessdagger · 4 years ago

Text

Starlight - Chapter Sixteen: A Fading Light

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC, Din Djarin x OFC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut

Warnings: Explicit Language. Canon Typical Violence. Angst

Words: 5.7k

Summary: She has grown dimmer. Duller.

Starlight Masterlist Here

Read Chapter Fifteen Here

Read on AO3 Here

Admittedly, she’s never been on this end of it all. The one who leaves, who hurts, who refuses to stay. It’s all new to her. This unexpected pain, filtered through emotions she’s never felt before. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. She’s been hurt before, more times than she can count. She’s been the one abandoned, forgotten, left to sit and wallow in all her fucking glory.

It hurts. She couldn’t say what exactly, everything perhaps. Her head, her bones, whatever it is that she has which can be excused for a heart. For the first couple weeks the air hurt to breathe.

Relena says she has to readjust to the beauty that is Coruscant smog.

It isn’t supposed to hurt. Everyone has left her with no remorse and yet she’s the one with crushed lungs when she tries to do the same to another.

Nothing’s fair.

Her days are spent in the training room, sat in the middle with her eyes closed. Throwing knives to training holograms. Relena required testing before putting her on the field again. Physically she’s never been better. The extra sun, meals, and rest she received in the past months did more than she could have imagined. Her focus has improved, senses less muddy without concentration. She’s faster, stronger without use of the Force.

Mentally, Relena says she’s the same as she’s always been.

Maybe worse, which is really for the best in regard to the team. Special operatives have to work on a wild card factor, mentally deranged and a little broken is good.

Gretx called her Lumina one day, overheard from Relena on some discussion she had in her office. They realized she might be more than a little broken when she threw him against the wall with a flick of her hand.

She didn’t stop choking him until Relena yelled at her.

She never apologized. She’s not good at them and he didn’t deserve it.

Lumina wasn’t for them.

Lumina was for the Razor Crest and its uncomfortable walls hiding comfortable silence. For the nights she would sit in the cockpit with a baby in her lap and try to manage the ships horrible controls. For catching stares and laughter she can no longer produce.

As the weeks pass by, Lumina is easier to forget.

Or so she tells herself.

She’s gotten better at lying.

Remarkably.

The boys are cautious around her after what happened to Gretx. Sully tries to reassure her he’s gotten over it, to not worry about some convoluted revenge plot.

“Those were Neri’s thing, none of us wanted to hurt you,” he would say.

But worrying has kept her alive this long, no point in stopping now.

On a positive note, she prefers to sleep now, nightmares are more prevalent without the Mandalorian. She never understood why they never happened with him around, but fear is easier than sadness, so she’s grateful to never have known.

Relena tries to make her work in the club again to gain bearings, and she does. It’s less sexual now, Neri’s death rocked the underworld and Relena cares more about having a good reputation. And the New Republic thought they could finally meddle in affairs seeing Neri was out of the picture.

Her first assignment was forcing a corruption confession out of a few senators to have recorded. Relena would rather she kill them but their past deal with the N.R. grants political officials immunity from that certain kind of terror. Confessions were easier anyways, less messy, and it didn’t matter if they were true or not. Mind tricks worked like a charm in desperate situations.

By the end of the first week on the field they have a new contract signed and everything settles to what it used to be. Only more organized and less manic.

When she’s able to head Topside, she spends her days at the top of buildings and watches speeders drive by in the night. When she feels more like herself, whoever that may be, she goes in the day and watches a daycare center from a building away with binocs.

“Do you ever think about having children?” She asks Relena one day as they file through old data on Neri’s hard drives.

She laughs at first. “Absolutely not.” She looks over her shoulder, auburn hair flopping over her eyes. “Why?”

“No reason,” she excuses. “We’re close in age is all, and… I see a lot of girls have at least one kid by now.”

Relena squints before falling into shock. “You’re pregnant aren’t you? That’s why you’ve been acting so weird,” she accuses.

“No!” She defends immediately, face red and choking on herself. “No, no, no. I’m not. I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “I’m sure.”

“You and—“

“We never did anything,” she interrupts. “I—“ she sighs, “I just think… that maybe, a baby would be nice.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes?”

“Ati, no offense but, what makes you think you could ever be a mother?”

Everything hurts more than it should recently.

Words especially.

“I have… experience, with children,” she defends weakly.

“You’re not married.”

“You don’t have to be married to have a baby.”

“Atikya, you can’t have children.”

“You don’t know that—“

“I don’t mean physically, though that is up for debate either way. You’re a genetic freak, you being fertile would be a miracle. I mean you shouldn’t have children. You know I care for you, but the last thing this galaxy needs is another you. Magic shit and the fact that you kill people for a living aside, you can barely take care of yourself. I don’t know what’s gotten into your head, but you are not having a baby. Ever.” Relena sighs, patting her cheek. “I’ll have one of the boys buy you a loth cat or a voorpak if you want, but no baby is entering this compound, or that body.”

Relena leaves a pregnancy test on her bed that night.

She never goes back to the daycare.

---

Coruscant makes her forget how shitty the rest of the galaxy is until she leaves. She starts to believe N.R. should start to stand for No Relief. Five years after the Empire and the amount of planets she’s seen trapped in suffering, no matter how slight, is enough to make her feel pity.

Ord Mantell City is one of those unfortunate places that never recovered from Imperial takeover. It’s become decimated in slums and filth, the air tainted, waters poisoned. Pavement is cracked, littered with potholes and filled with puddles of Maker knows what.

Feces, blood, tears.

For the longest time the whole planet ran outside of Imperial jurisdiction, under law of the Black Sun syndicate. It had gone about as well as one could expect, lawless streets with debts too high to pay. It’s no wonder civilians had bonded it.

Her first journey here had been during one of the initial assignments she held with Boba Fett. He told her that with her around they needed to be in places outside of Imperial rule, no matter how demented they be.

Life was brighter then, if only slightly. Neon signs wouldn’t flicker and vendor shops were filled with more than drugs, weapons, and people.

Boba used to buy her Mantell mix, a prize for work well accomplished.

He said he picked it up from someone he knew, knows.

She didn’t know how to ask questions back then.

The salty smell of Mantell mix travels the streets right to her nose, filling her brain with memories of a little girl following a green bounty hunter.

She was so small back then.

Times have changed, it’s natural.

Boba Fett is dead and now she hangs by her wrists from shackles anchored to the ceiling.

Off world missions never end well, she should know this by now. She does. But she’s also never been one to care for herself in any meaningful way.

“You know,” she says, blowing hair out of her face. “Generally, when you hold people hostage you don’t do it somewhere so… quaint.”

The little parlor half in the underground wasn’t necessarily the nicest place in the city, but it did have character. Dimmed lighting, cozy seating with a bar out front. A lost smell stained in the walls, bullet holes never patched.

She feels strange here, light torture mechanics aside, there’s an aura she can’t place about it all. Like echos in the Force are calling out to her, waiting.

A Zygerrian, Lyzo, hits her stomach with a staff. “You will be quiet,” he hisses.

She laughs instead. “You hit like a youngling.”

He growls, gripping her chin, blood from her nose staining clawed finger. “You won’t have much to say once the boss is done with you.”

“Mm, I bet,” she teases. “Where is this boss of yours anyways? Out on an errand run?”

Lyzo strikes his staff to the ground, electrifying the bulb at the end. “You—“

“Put that away,” a male says from the entryway. A green Trandoshan with darker stripes and yellow eyes. “She’ll make no money for me dead.”

Her eyes light up, lifting her to meet his. “I take it you’re Cid?”

“Cid was my aunt, place used to belong to her. I’m Kie,” he introduces. “I take it you’re the infamous Atikya?”

Her eyes roll. “The one and only, though I’m thinking of a name change. Ati’s gotten a bit too popular for my liking.”

Kie clicks his tongue, waving the Zygerrian to step back. “That does tend to happen when you kill one of the last members of the Black Sun.”

“A jobs a job. N.R. wanted her anyways, better to be dead than rotting behind bars. What’s the plan? Selling me off to your little slaver friend?”

Lyzo scans her body, squinting. “She has nice breasts, it’s a consideration,” he says in Dosh.

Kie shakes his head. “Relena’ll be willing to pay good money to get her back. We wait for the credits and then we can discuss that.”

She gags, shaking her braces. “Lena was right, you’re as dumb as you look.” To Kie’s widened eyes, hers roll. “I live with at least six of your kind, of course I know how to fucking speak Dosh,” she says in a sigh. “Obviously you two are new at this whole, taking someone prisoner thing, so here’s a couple tips. One, conduct bare minimum background research if you know who they are, and two, maybe get rid of all their weapons they have on their body.”

The pair share a look and her eyes roll again. “I have a knife in my boot—“ she says, waving out her left foot “—and taser disks in my right pocket.” They share a look again before she groans. “That means take them.”

Kie pushes Lyzo first, nodding. “If you touch my chest I’ll scoop your eyes out with my bare hands,” she says looking at the feline. He swallows with a nod, gaze averted to the ground.

Stars they really are amateurs…

“Very good,” she praises as he steps back. “Okay, now you, scaly. C’mere.” She nods behind her, twisting the best she can given the chain and all. “See that metal thing behind me? What’s in it is worth way more credits than I am,” she says. “Sell it.”

Kie grabs the cylinder, frowning. “What is it?” He asks, shaking the tube. He holds it to Lyzo who shrugs, examining the black metal, looking down its opening.

“Turn it on,” she prompts. “Little button on the side,” she instructs. “Real fancy gem in there, super rare.”

It’s not her fault the lightsaber’s plasma blade goes right through Lyzo’s head.

Kie pressed the button after all.

The lizard yells dropping the saber when Lyzo falls to the ground, blood pooling by their feet.

“You’re a Jedi?” He asks, facing his fallen friend.

Her eyes darken, face turned to scowl. Her right hand squeezes above her head as Kie violently coughs. She doesn’t stop until he falls next to Lyzo, releasing the tension. “I’m not a fucking Jedi,” she mutters to herself, looking around the room.

It’s nothing to be impressed by, Storm Trooper helmets on the wall, various weapons on display with books she’s sure have never been touched. The key to her shackles sits on a desk, with the Force she brings it over to unlock herself.

“Ugh,” she grunts, landing in Lyzo’s blood. Tapping the side of her ear enters a low static connection, Relena’s deep laugh on the other end. “Glad you enjoyed the audio drama,” she says, wiping her nose.

“Wish I could’ve seen it.”

She shrugs. “Wasn’t that impressive. What am I looking for?”

“I’m not sure,” Relena admits. “The client wasn’t very specific, said you’ll know when you see it.”

She frowns, retying the end of her braid in a mirror. “Right, that makes sense.”

“Do your touchy feely shit okay? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“It’s not—whatever. I still don’t get why I’m doing this, these guys didn’t do anything,” she says, prodding Kie’s arm with her toe. “Besides be annoying.”

“You’re getting soft,” Relena muses. “When did you get a conscious?”

It’s a long story.

“I’m not soft,” she defends instead. “It’s not fun when they don’t deserve it, besides this whole place gives me the creeps. It’s like I’ve been here before,“ her eyes catch on a shelf across the room. “You know anything about the Cid that ran this place?”

“Vaguely. Used to help the Jedi during the Clone Wars, aided and abetted clones during the early Empire.”

“Clones?”

“My intel says that place became some kind of haven for them when they all started defecting.”

Her hands run over the desk, cringing at the flashes that follow. “Until the Empire shot it up.”

“Brutal.”

Her eyes roll, lifting a holophoto placed across from her. A blonde girl in the middle stands surrounded by five men in black armor. “Huh,” she mumbles, perched on the table.

“What’d you find?”

“Nothing important. Pictures. Did your client say why they wanted me to do this?”

“Said it’s in your interest.”

“My interest? I told you not to disclose—“

“I haven’t told them anything major about you,” Relena defends. “They already know of your work, don’t ask how. All I’ve done is I may have mentioned your affinity for clones.”

“Lena—”

“Relax, it’s hardly damning information.” Relena rattles on about her value in security and safety for the millionth time, the girl pays her no mind, tracing over the figures in front of her.

“You boys can’t take a serious photo for your life,” a female voice laughs, older than the child, kinder.

Her head snaps back, staring wide eyed into the empty doorway. “I’ll call you back later,” she says.

“Ati—“

She pulls out the comm in her ear, sitting cross legged on the desk. “You aren’t clones,” she says to herself. The girl is unassuming enough, startling hair aside, she looked like any other child. The men were a different story. Varying height, facial structure, build.

Nothing like she’s seen before, yet with a striking familiarity.

The one in the middle captures her attention, the most ‘normal’ of the group. Half a skull tattooed on his face, hair longer than she knew to be regulation. He smiles past the angle of the camera, a soft one of rare sweetness.

You’ll know when you when you see it.

She tucks the frame under her arm, pulling up her hood. “What are you up to Lena?” she whispers.

---

A box of bolts lands with a thud on her desk. “Another success?” Sully stands outside her quarters in the compound, newly renovated from Neri’s era. Less gaudy now, more structured, sterile. It all functioned more like a proper facility now, less so a home. Not that it ever was, but grey walls feel so lonely.

Her room isn’t much to gawk at. A workbench, a naked cot by the only window, various blasters and clothing thrown about.

Her excuse is she’s making up for her lost teenage years.

“Something like that,” she mumbles, placing the frame on the windowsill.

“What’d you bring?”

“Not sure,” she looks back, “I think it’s important.”

He scoffs. “Like how all of that—“ he motions to her decorated wall, filled with ornaments of past missions “—is important?”

“Fuck off,” she ignores. “It is all important.”

Between his scaly fingers he lifts a small brush. “This is important?”

“Yes,” she stresses, taking it away. “You gave this to me when we met.”

“You kept it?“

She shrugs. “You were my first friend.”

“You are soft. Are you sure you’re not a Jedi now?”

She mocks him, placing the brush back on the shelf. “Not a Jedi,” she sings. ”Your dad was friends with my… and, well you know how Bossk helped him out in the beginning. Like how you helped me. So yes, it’s important.”

“Yeah well,” he scoffs, shoving her shoulder. “You’re a Fett if I ever knew one.” He reaches for a black cylinder, tossing it from hand to hand. “This looks like yours.”

She cringes, stopping it midair. “Careful! It’s not a toy, and that’s because it is like mine.”

“You found another Je—one of you?”

“More like he found me,” she mutters. “A lot happened while I was gone.”

The whole ordeal feels like another lifetime, it’s easier to ignore it all most days.

“I’ll say,” Sully chuckles. “At least you’re back, no more of that Mandalorian. It’ll be just like old times.”

“You shouldn’t be so rude about it,” she chastises, floating the hilt to her desk.

He steps in front of her, waving his hand. “You’re joking.”

“No Sully,” she sighs, stepping away. “I’m not. I told you and all the boys I don’t want to hear anything about that. You could stand to be a little kinder too, he saved my life. Multiple times.”

His snout scrunches, knocking down a vase. She reaches behind herself instantly, catching it inches from the ground. “Every time you talk about him you sound miserable, and now you’re defending him?”

She frowns, returning the vase to its spot. “I don’t, I simply… had a change in perspective. I’m still the best fighter on this team and I do my job. That’s all that matters. Did you bring my supplies?” Sully nods to the basket of metal and welding guns. “Good. Now leave me, I need my full concentration for this.”

She locks the door with his exit, sighing at the red crystals scattered in front of her. “Alright Blaze,” she says, removing her gloves. “Let��s see where you’ve been hiding.”

---

The nightmares get worse. Obviously. Blaze left enough horror fuel for three of her lifetimes in those crystals. No one checks on her when she wakes up screaming her lungs out, no one asks why her eyes are puffy in the morning or why she’s lost her voice. Things get better when she starts sleeping with the Mandalorian’s cape, not immensely, but enough to stop having dreams of being burned alive.

Later she finds out Relena soundproofed her room.

“You know,” she says when confronted. “For the baby.”

Sully has to tear the lightsaber out of her hand while the compound goes on lockdown. Apparently they have a safety protocol for her now, which in its own way is flattering, so she isn’t too offended.

A day comes when she’s watching a movie with the boys in the back room and Mutl points out Neri’s bloodstain in the carpet near the back wall when grabbing drinks.

She’s sick on site.

Relena leaves another pregnancy test on her bed and suggests she starts birth control.

She stops sleeping in the compound.

---

She’s sent to Corellia with Gretx one day, something about an old Imperial office causing trouble for a client. It’s dirty, and full of water, and the smell is enough to override her nose and leave her clutching her skull.

At some point she catches a reflection of beskar from the window and a passing movement through the Force. Things go haywire faster than they should. She still doesn’t know what happened, but Relena yells at her when they return. Words about managing her anger, about her being a liability, how any child of hers is better off dead.

Relena isn’t good with apologies either, but she tries some days later.

Not that it matters.

She stops sleeping in general.

---

Mornings are the worst part of life.

Mornings don’t exist in Coruscant, not really. Not when the sunlight is a legend, a magical mystical presence that peaks through tubes tunneling the world. The further you go the dimmer it gets, until it vanishes.

Populations go entire lifetimes without seeing the sun. Without feeling warmth tickle their skin and sweat beading on their forehead. Humans are pale here, even those who’s color matches the trees are dimmer. Duller.

She has grown dimmer. Duller.

A fading light.

Her eyes hurt, contacts staying in longer than they should.

She doesn’t know it’s morning until the pipes above her rumble, shaking with poisoned water running through the building.

Streets are still dark, if not a little emptier. Those who feign lives will wake soon, pan handle on the upper levels, maybe travel Topside to sell whatever they can to afford a meal.

But by the time transportation is arranged and travel is completed, it will be high noon.

There are no mornings here.

It’s become apparent to her that fourteen, or whatever age she truly was. Twelve, thirteen, eleven.

It doesn’t matter.

Fourteen had a large impact on the girl.

Maybe more than seventeen, but the jury is still out on that one.

She hadn’t seen the sun until she was fourteen. Mornings don’t exist on Arkanis either. Or maybe they did, she wouldn’t know.

Boba Fett, the menace that he is, was, showed her sunlight. Dirt. Grass. Flowers.

A blue sky.

She had been scared to touch anything, for once not because of her… issues. Surroundings, up to that point, were blank dark walls. Flickering lights on panels for buttons she never understood. Cameras at every corner. Watching.

Always watching.

He didn’t understand back then what the issue was. She only stood on the plank of Slave I, arm shadowing her eyes.

They didn’t talk then. He only grunted and nodded for her to follow. The sickly, dim, dull little girl he’d been forced to babysit.

Train.

Same thing.

She never found out why Vader assigned Boba to her. She wasn’t in a position to ask questions and when they did talk he would always ignore. Find some way to answer without truly answering. He did that a lot, even towards the end of his life. A skill he picked up from his father, Jango.

He didn’t like questions about clones either, not at first.

The first time he had removed his helmet in front of her was only a few months into their time together. Back on the ship after a gruesome blaster training regiment. She’d put on a little more weight at that point. Boba made sure to feed her whenever he could.

Vader didn’t do that.

“You’re a clone,” she had said, packing away the pistol he’d given her. Brand new, its barrel shined in a way she had not known words for to describe yet.

He swore under his breath, feeble attempts to preserve any innocence still trapped inside her. It didn’t matter, they both knew that.

“I thought all the clones were dead. And old.”

“Most are.”

She nodded, seating herself beside him. “Okay.”

He looked at her for the first time with his own eyes that day. A wave of recognition passed through both of them.

She had never seen someone who looked like her before.

Brown skin, nose slightly wider at the tip, black hair that curled at the tips—at that point she looked more like a boy. Body underdeveloped and malnourished. If her eyes were truly brown, she’d pass as his own child.

He was so familiar to her, intangibly so.

“What do you know of clones?”

“Not much. Clones worked for the Republic. All we touched on in lessons was how honorable it was that they helped kill the Jedi.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

She supposes it’s only a natural progression that she grew an obsession for them following that point. Boba wouldn’t tell her much still, his experience on Kamino wasn’t exactly traditional, but she liked to read. She took in all she could. Most media had been censored or destroyed by the Empire, names were replaced with numbers. The only one that had stayed was that of Jango Fett.

Boba never talked about his father. Not at first. When he did it was little things, a comment when he taught her how to fly, a passing remark when he taught her how to fight with a staff. Nothing major.

When she asked about his armor he hadn’t mentioned it was Mandalorian, she didn’t know what a Mandalorian was back then.

Now she knows too much.

Regrettably so.

The pipes above her rumble again, decrepit pebbles of concrete falling above.

Mornings are the worst.

She blinks into reality again, staring at a blank wall, lost to herself.

She doesn’t think about the Mandalorian.

No, that’s a lie.

She only thinks about the Mandalorian.

He’s a fucking hex on her mind.

There are times, specifically times like these in the early morning where all she does is stare into nothing.

Thinking.

Remembering.

She wonders if he remembers her, her hidden touch, her lips on his.

It hadn’t been until the second month apart passed when the bells of realization struck inside her mind. The best she has ever been was with him.

The fucking bastard took his stupid helmet off for her.

From the very first day he adored her in a way she was unable to recognize until it was gone. She isn’t who she used to be before him, she’s not who she was with him either.

She’s angrier and softer, kinder and more malicious.

Relena keeps telling her off for having morals now, life was easier when she did what she was told.

It’s not her fault.

He tried to grow her into something sweet and she clipped her own buds before they could bloom.

Maybe it is her fault.

Not that he was a saint, he was better than her, but most people are.

She should have made him forget her, like she had everyone else. Leave her essence hidden, months of life together erased. She nearly did, in their last moments her hand fluttered by his head in temptation.

Then she figured if she had to live with this, so should he.

He wanted to be even after all.

At least she doesn’t cry anymore, and she’s lost her voice to scream.

His cape stays wrapped around her shoulders, the blindfold she made on their last night trapped in her pocket. She fidgets with it gloveless when she particularly wants to torture herself, like right now.

Seasons have changed in Coruscant, colder now, and her hands shake without her protection. But everything grows distant and she can’t tell the difference in sensations anymore. Images enter her mind: Him. The Child. The Razor Crest.

Her psychometry, well trained at this point in her life, is a cursed blessing. She’s never met anyone else with similar abilities, reason to believe this is partially why Lord Vader chose her as an apprentice. She doesn’t believe it to be the entire reality of the situation though. There were plenty of other children in Arkanis, products of Project Harvester far better trained in lightsaber combat and who ranked higher than her in academics.

The story is he killed her. Somehow.

Details are blurry and she hasn’t found anything to jog forgotten memories.

He had come to the Academy, a routine visit to inspect progression of units such as herself.

The carers, an ironic name for those who only provided minimal means and instruction, guided the Sith Lord around the facility. She hadn’t seen him at first, she physically couldn’t. The one window in her space which looked into the corridor was one way glass, only allowing outsiders to witness her.

They hadn’t intended for her to hear their conversation. Supposedly the walls were to cancel out any sound, but heightened senses don’t care for things like that. She listened to every syllable as if they shared a room.

He always checked on her first during visits.

She didn’t know why.

She still doesn’t, not entirely.

They all spoke of her impending termination, justified punishment for her rebellion to order.

Unfortunately, he denied their request.

To this day she preferred they just kill her. Now she’s too arrogant for death, too stubborn in the face of mortality.

They warned him about her, whispering secrets of their findings when she was in the medical bay.

He didn’t care.

He never did.

She had to live.

Standing from the concrete floor, her tired muscles stretch, leather sliding over her fingers. So little to do and so much time. Relena’s kept her grounded for the past month or so, a consequence of Corellia.

It wasn’t her fault.

No matter what Gretx reported.

No matter if she came back covered in blood that wasn’t hers.

It wasn’t her fault.

The bases of her lightsabers remain connected against a scarred wall. There’s a reason she avoids used weapons.

On the positive, she has two now, double the fun.

It flies into her grip and she disconnects the ends, hooking them to her belt.

Walking to a window, she shatters the glass with the one of the hilts. She pulls herself out of the building, glass lightly piercing through her gloves.

“Shit,” she mutters, clenching her hand. It won’t bleed.

Unfortunately.

She pulls herself onto the fire escape, or whatever is left of it. Steel rods hanging from the roof. In a single leap she bounds the remaining stories, landing in a roll.

“Stupid fucking…” she swears, shaking out her hand.

Light tries to peak through the tunnel in the horizon, the littlest glow she’s ever seen.

There’s a crack in her ear, loud static connection.

“Good morning. You should start sleeping in the compound,” Relena’s voice says.

Damn commlink.

“No thanks.”

“We got Neri’s bloodstains out the carpet it’s not like—“

“I said no.”

“Fine. But squatting fuck knows where isn’t as cute as you think.”

“Did you need something?”

Relena scoffs on the other end. “Look, I’m sorry for putting you on probation but I have an empire I’m trying to— okay, wrong word. We’re trying to rebuild here Ati, you can’t lose it because—“

“I don’t care. What do you want?”

“I have a job for you, off world, long term.”

“Oh goodie,” she drags.

“I get the whole pissed off thing is like your thing, but it’s six in the morning. Be a little personable.”

Her eyes roll, walking along the edge of the building.

“This is where you ask what it is,” Relena says.

“Would that make you feel better?”

She sighs. “Your favorite client has been in contact again.”

“Favorite client?”

“The one from Ord Mantell.”

“With the clones?” She hasn’t touched the photo in weeks, convinced she’d taken the wrong thing from the parlor. Nothing new came through in her visions.

After Corellia, she started feeling sick hearing that woman’s voice.

“Who else?” Relena asks.

She frowns. “What do they want?”

“For you to do what you’re good at.”

She makes a running jump to the next building, skidding.

“Who’s your client?”

“Since when did you ask questions about missions?”

She ignores her. “Is the target innocent?”

Relena clicks her tongue, she’s gone colder since Corellia too. “Ati,” she says mocking. “What happened to the ruthless little girl I met? You’ll have to get rid of that heart you grew. Our client is well paying and works in your favor. They specifically requested my best, that’s you.”

Her response is dry. “Consider me flattered.”

“You’ve been a pain in my ass since you’ve come back you know.”

“I get the job done. I’m not interested in being friends.”

“Then get this job done.”

“I’m not killing someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m not asking you to kill him.”

“Him?” She pauses, “Who’s him?”

“Details will be disclosed when you arrive to your location.”

“If you’re not telling me, find someone else for the job.”

“Atikya,” Relena says stern. “I won’t tell you again.”

She sighs. Things weren’t always this difficult to get out of. “What’s my objective?”

She hears Relena smile through the link. “To tail and give reports, let me know if they run into any suspicious characters.”

“Suspicious characters?”

“You’ll know when you see them.”

That again.

Great.

“Right,” she says plainly. “And where exactly is this location?”

“Arkanis.”

Her heart drops down the building’s side. “What?”

“I do love a family reunion, don’t you? Head back to the compound and pack. I don’t know how long this’ll take, but it could be some months. You’ll need to get on a ship by noon if you want to arrive in time.”

“I’m not going back—“

“You,” Relena stresses. “Will do what I tell you, and thank me for it later.”

“Thank you?” She scoffs in disbelief.

“I owe you a promise from a long time ago, I’m making good on that.”

“And that involves me going back to the same fucking—“

“Yes. It does. This isn’t a punishment Ati, but it’s also not an option. Am I clear?”

She grunts, crossing to another building. “This better be worth it, I’ll have enough shit to deal with already with N.R.’s occupation.”

“It will be, you have my word. They shouldn’t be a problem for you, you know how to lay low, use it. Call me when you land and I’ll give you further instructions. Oh, and Ati? Don’t get distracted, you’re an asset to me before anything else. Remember that.” Static fades into her ear after the words, leaving her to stare into the rising sunrise from the port. Reflection jumps from piping like little stars in a sad broken space.

Painfully she’s reminded that stars don’t exist on Arkanis either.

Only their killers.

---

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: YOU BECOME THE STARS

Taglist: @lexloon @jay-bel @xsadderdazeforeverx @spideysimpossiblegirl @sarahjkl82-blog

#Mandalorian #mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x original character #din djarin x ofc #din djarin #Din Djarin x oc #Din Djarin x ofc #mando x ofc #Mando x oc #Din Djarin x Original Female Character #mando x original female character #mando x original character #Starlight #din djarin x reader

21 notes · View notes

dookiedoctorspa · 26 days ago

Text

Time-Saving Tips for Busy Pet Owners: Keeping Your Yard Clean

Between work, errands, and the occasional chance to relax, finding time to clean up after your dog isn’t always easy. The yard can become a forgotten zone, especially when the week flies by and the to-do list keeps growing. But skipping regular cleanup can turn your outdoor space into a smelly, unsanitary mess before you know it.

If your schedule’s packed but you still want to keep your yard clean, here are some smart, low-stress ways to make it happen.

Keep Bags and Scoopers Within Reach

One of the simplest ways to make cleaning easier is by removing the hassle of hunting for supplies. Hang a dispenser with poop bags near the back door or keep a scooper stored in the garage where it’s easy to grab. This way, you won’t waste time looking for tools when you're already short on it.

Some pet owners leave a small bin or trash can lined with a bag right outside. Toss the waste in, tie it off at the end of the week, and you’re done. Little setup changes like this can save you time without adding to your mental load.

Stick to a Cleanup Routine

Even five minutes every two or three days can make a difference. You don’t have to wait for the weekend to deal with a full week’s worth of mess. Set a reminder on your phone to scoop during your dog’s evening potty break or just before you head out in the morning.

If you live in a household with kids or roommates, split the responsibility so it doesn’t fall on one person all the time. Rotating chores can help keep things fair and consistent.

Let a Professional Handle It

When you're juggling meetings, meal prep, or just trying to catch your breath, it might make more sense to bring in help. Hiring a dog poop service means you can skip the cleanup and still enjoy a clean yard.

Local services work on a schedule that fits yours and make sure your outdoor space stays healthy and odor-free. It’s a convenient option that gives you time back without cutting corners.

Don’t Let the Problem Pile Up

Once the waste piles up, it becomes more than just a visual issue. Bacteria, parasites, and strong odors make their way into the soil and air. Pets or kids playing outside can track it inside, too. Regular yard care helps avoid these issues and keeps everyone safer.

If you’re in the area, dog waste removal in Pittsburgh is available to take that burden off your hands. Professional services are fast, discreet, and handle disposal properly so you don’t have to.

Extra Tips for Busy Pet Parents

· Use a Pooper Scooper with a Bag Attachment: These tools let you pick up and bag waste in one step, making the job less messy and faster.

· Choose Designated Potty Zones: Training your dog to go in a certain area can limit the spread and make cleanup faster. It’s easier to manage one spot than an entire yard.

· Get the Right Yard Surface: Grass looks great, but cleanup is quicker on gravel or mulch. If you’re landscaping, keep maintenance in mind.

· Check the Weather: Rain can make things messier. Try to scoop before a storm rolls in to avoid a soggy situation.

And if time continues to be tight, dog poop cleaning services can save you a major headache. Whether it’s weekly maintenance or a one-time deep clean, it’s one less thing to worry about, leaving more room for walks, belly rubs, and playtime.

#residential dog poop removal pittsburgh #Residential dog poop removal pittsburgh prices #Best residential dog poop removal pittsburgh #Dog poop cleaning service #pooper scooper pittsburgh

0 notes

soursoppi · 5 years ago

Note

how do you put out so much content consistently? i feel like you have a new drawing so often does it get overwhelming?

Like running marathons, when you train up your stamina and get in the groove of things, generating content comes faster and easier the more you do it. Speaking from experience, it’s always hellish at the start when you struggle with building up your limits and overcoming plateaus.

But once you start figuring things out, things actually go surprisingly smoothly (of course there are whoopsie months, like the past July for me but ah... life happens lol, gotta take it in stride).

When I first started drawing seriously I would obsessively nitpick my WIPs and in the end would only finish like 1 piece a year, but sketch 99 pieces. What changed things for me was starting this blog and responding to Asks. I changed how I approached “finished” pieces, rather than overworking things I focused more on drawing ideas to the best I can within a limited time frame. Having a time frame was probably the most important part, since it taught me how to move on to the next idea.

When you stop asking for perfection, it becomes less daunting to produce content. There are peeps who are suited to spending 1 month producing 1 piece, or to make very refined and clean art. Part of generating content is figuring out what sort of artist you are and what pace/style suits you.

(I actually find my art very messy and don’t like it too much lol, but I realise peeps don’t actually mind the messiness, and so I’ve learnt to accept it as part of my style. I’m not exactly the most efficient with it too ah....)

That being said I make it a point not to overthink AUs or drawings, because I’ve been down that route. The more you plan for something, the less you’re likely to put it into action. That’s how it becomes overwhelming, when you stand at the very start of the track and try to count the hundreds of steps it’d take you to reach the end. Really the best thing to do is to split your journey up into manageable sections and tackle each section a step at a time.

Over the course of running this blog, I’ve gotten to know my brain well lol- in the sense that I know my brain usually has some sort of half-baked idea or whim floating around in there- the issue then becomes more of whether I’m willing to expend the energy and effort into drawing the idea, or to scrap it and figure out something else easier to draw.

Imo a lack of content generation/art block is more an imbalance between the effort you’d have to put in to render an idea, rather than the lack of one. Which again- the more you draw, the less you overwork things, the more you get in the groove of your style/process- the more likely you are to produce content. The biggest struggle is really figuring out how to draw things, when you’re able to do it without struggling too much, popping them out becomes a lot less overwhelming.

(I’d say it also helps that I’m energised by sitting at home and drawing and have 0% interest in socialising lol. I’m happy being an asexual introvert but it ain’t the life for everyone.)

tldr: don’t overthink things, don’t overwork things, know when to cut your losses or to make an extra effort- gradually build up to the pace you want

#Q&A: Process #Blabberings

231 notes · View notes

misterewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Intro to Jaime 101 and a Half

Hey everyone! E here hoping you are all good. It's time for a new chapter of Mirror's Edge! Haha been a while huh? I was actually writing a mini arc for welcome to an Underground cuz it felt right you know? Better to get all that put together and squared away. And now that that's done, here we are.

Umm the next thing I write will either be another's Mirror's Edge chapter, the last intro chapter before I get into actual story arcs or maybe some fandom stuff I haven't decided.

Anyway, I hope you are all safe, sound, keeping your loved ones safe too, wear a mask, wash your hands, vaccinate yourself if you can, push to release the vaccines world wide and be careful. Have an amazing week and see you soon with a new chapter and or story! feel free to leave likes, reblog, comments and recommend this to your friends! I appreciate it, enjoy!!

Here’s the chapter over at a03 if you wanted have an easier time reading cuz tumblr hates me!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/80953405

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what’s it all about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

And here’s a link to all my stories

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Summary: Jaime, adoptive sister of Finnrick and fiancée of Casey, is late to work. The Grimoire, magical library and hub of all knowledges is her workplace and she has thrown herself into it completely for whatever reason. Still with Casey lingering on her mind, she can't help but feel torn between her love of books and the love of her life.

-----

As Jaime hurried away from Willow’s Rook and Casey, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed in herself. She told herself under no circumstances she would see her fiancée but one glance towards his office and Jaime was knocking on his door without a second thought. A ten minute conversation later and now she was late to work.

She sighed, glancing downward towards the engagement ring snugly wrapped around her finger.

Jaime’s heart raced beyond her control as her fingers tingled with the warmth Casey’s cheek. She could still feel the pulsing of their hearts beating in time with one another, love and longing palpable in that moment.

“Jaime, why do you do this to yourself?” she murmured sadly “You said don’t see him. You said don’t visit him. You said you could handle this whole break and now we’re late.”

Jaime picked up her pace, power walking in hopes somehow that could shave off the seconds she desperately needed to avoid being reprimanded: The Grimoire may have been a library but it had a strict late policy both on books and personal.

-----

The Grimoire was as elegant as it was ancient: The library was one of the oldest buildings in Newton Haven, constructed when the city was little more than a mile of stacked bricks among swampland. Faded red stone archways and columns did nothing to belittle the power and importance of the Grimoire. Even the mundane folk could feel the magical force that radiated from within, a fantastic world beyond the threshold.

Of course there was a fantastic world hidden inside: The library was one of the major hubs for the magical community and it wasn’t uncommon to see various races searching the many bookshelves for whatever subject tickled their fancy.

The interior was elegant and timeless: The walls and floors were soothing shades of brown with furniture pulled from all eras of human history. Three stories of endless knowledge about countless subjects. Translucent spirits hurried back and forth, humming happily in death as they did in life while they performed their duties to the Grimoire. In the center, amid the hustle and bustle, stood a spiraling staircase that disappeared beyond the ceiling to the Librarian’s office.

There, just past the entrance and to the side, was a security desk with a figure lazily sitting upon it: He was humanoid, muscular and impossibly large, easily seven feet tall. His skin was gray as storm clouds and his eyes shone with an electric blue shade. His hair and beard were frosted white like he dove face first into snow. His uniform consisted of a dark blue buttoned up collared shirt that was one flex from tearing in two and old rugged jeans. His black combat boots were immaculately cleaned as he placed them on the surface of the desk.

He clicked his tongue as he slowly turned the page on the latest romance novel he had been enthralled by.

“Sinclair, you’re late.” He spoke softly but even a whisper couldn’t stop his voice from reverberating throughout the hall.

Passerby’s shot confused glances at one another but no one stopped at Dusty’s declaration

The storm giant sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly “Sinclair, you’re not fooling anyone.”

Silence and more quizzical glances.

Dusty shook his head, disappointed as he snapped his finger.

The air smelled of fresh rain while a source-less thunder boomed overhead. Nearby, a person, previously invisible, flickered into existence. Their previously camouflaged self changed into a rainbow of colorful hues before bursting into a flurry of sea green sparks and revealing a sheepish Jaime, her hands raised in defeat.

“Sinclair.” Dusty’s voice was dry yet amused.

Jaime clasped her hands together as she made her way over to the storm giant’s desk “Dusty! I...”

“Am late.” he finished for her, a gentle chuckle escaping his throat “Remington again?”

“Whaaaaaa?” Jaime’s face scrunched into a false sense of surprise “No, no. Come on. Me and Casey are….well you see…..it’s frankly none of your business.”

Dusty nodded wisely “True. It is none of my business. Go on before I sic the ghosts on you.”

Jaime gave a quick curtsy before running as quickly as she could. Dusty rolled his eyes before returning to his romance novel he was previously captivated with.

-----

Everyone who worked in the Grimoire had their own personal office tucked away somewhere to ensure privacy for personal studies. Jaime’s office was in the back of the library, hidden behind the alchemy section. It was one of the wider offices, more akin to a school class room. True to her wizard background, it was messy: Piles of folders, books left open and hastily scribbled papers were sprawled about. A fairly sized cauldron sat ontop of her desk, currently not in use. Sticky notes littered randomly across the walls. And like any true wizard, a magical circle was engraved directly into the center of the room for varying purposes.

Despite the appearance of her lair, she was actually one of the more organized of wizards. Even her prodigal brother Finn’s lair wasn’t as well maintained and cataloged as her. Though, to be fair, she did have help most wizards didn’t.

Jaime placed her bag by the door, eyes searching about for her helper.

“Bartholomew! Bartholomew Ringtail, you here?”

A moment past before the sound of rustling papers and scuttling paws could be heard. Jaime reached into her pack and pulled out a bag of popcorn just in time for Bartholomew reach out for the treat.

Bartholomew Ringtail, like his name suggested, was raccoon. Light gray fur, little black mask over his snout and tiny adorable paws. However, unlike most of his kind, wore a small cap upon his head and that made him cuter than the average raccoon.

Well that and the fact he was magical.

While her brother was a master practitioner of powerful protective wizardry, Jaime’s skills lay elsewhere as a conjurer. Her strength came in summoning powerful familiars to further her goals.

Normally a wizard would have to spend time preparing the ritual, collecting the materials related to whatever being they were trying to bring onto this plane. Demons, angels, fey, constructs of strange and alien machinery from beyond human understanding. Anything could be summoned if you had the proper knowledge and power.

Normally such rituals would take hours if not days to perform: Time to gather magical energies, to search the planes of reality for your being of choice and of course drag it kicking and screaming to you. Also summons were temporary as beings not native to the plane could only be sustained by whatever magic brought them. Much like a timer, the magic would slowly fade and once empty any being summoned are forcibly returned from whence they came.

Jaime was much faster and more persuasive in her summoning spell casting. She could do it in a matter of minutes as opposed to days though it still required a massive amount of magical energy, Unlike other wizards, conjurer summons did not decay over time. Whatever they brought into this world stayed in this world unlike magic could no longer maintain their form, usually from being attacked over and over.

Bartholomew was one such creature. In fact Bartholomew was Jaime’s first summon back when she was a fledgling wizard being trained by her brother. She wasn’t hundred percent where exactly he came from but she was grateful for her longtime companion and friend.

Bartholomew popped open the popcorn bag and hurriedly began to stuff handful of the tasty snack into his waiting maw.

Jaime smiled brightly before glancing about room, quietly complementing which project to continue.

A wizard’s magic was as much studying as it was practice.

Finnrick once described the difference between wizards and other casters as using a phonebook. The others were given a phonebook by some higher power. The numbers were already written down and set. However, they could only use those numbers and each different caster had different numbers for different purposes.

Wizards, on the other hand, no such phonebook. They have work hard, study and call each number to understand what the number did. Aside from being tutored by other wizards or spellbooks or other sources of knowledge, the wizard must discovered and write down the numbers on their own, creating their own phone book. Of course that meant wizards weren’t as limited as the other casters and were free to discover a possible infinite amount of spells.

Jaime took a step forward when a voice called out to her.

“Hey sis!”

Jaime whirled around to find the smiling face of her brother Finnrick, fedora in one hand and a friendly wave in the other.

“FINNY!” Jaime cheered, racing forward and wrapping her brother in a tight hug.

Finnrick laughed before returning the gesture “Hey Jai, how you doing?”

“Good” Jaime broke away “Great even! I was just about to practice my spells. I’m still having trouble.”

“Sis.” Finnrick’s voice became firm “It’s visual as much as it is feeling.”

“I know, I know” Jaime shifted uneasily under his gaze “It’s just I usually just bring in heavy hitters, not be one.”

“Any wizard can stick to their strengths. Great wizards are well versed in all forms magic. Spar?”

Jaime gave a crooked smile “Loser buys lunch.”

“And dinner” he cockily added.

Jaime motioned to the circle but Finnrick was already on it. Clasping his hands, Finnrick murmured something too softly for her to hear then pushed his arms outward. A blue dome formed over the two, encasing them in a makeshift arena.

Jaime took her place opposite of her brother “Ready?”

“Sisters first.”

Jaime closed her eyes. She imagined a flame in the palm of her hand. She imagined the heat from the flame. She imagined how it shifted back and forth with a gentle breeze. She saw it clearly in her mind’s eye and then she willed it into reality

“Inferus!” Jaime shouted, her hands glowing with a sea green glow. The flame burst into existence, just as she created. She pulled her arm back and lobbed it with as much force as towards her brother.

Finnrick didn’t budge an inch while flame sailed his way. He rose his hand calmly and with a mighty swing, backhanded and sent the flame skittering across the floor.

Finnrick didn’t waste any time in his counter attack. His finger tips gleamed with blue magical energy and with a flick forward, unleashing a barrage of icicles.

Jaime outstretched her hand forward, sea green glyph forming in the air. A thin matching barrier appeared in front of her in time to catch the first of the icy attack but as the rest collided, cracks began to widen and spread with each successive blow.

“Don’t fight like me Jaime!” Finnrick scolded, sending another wave of icy daggers.

The barrier hadn’t lasted under the second barrage: The moment an icicle collided with her shield, it broke, scattering and fading out of existence.

Jaime, however, was prepared. She ducked and weaved under the attack, pivoting her heels like a graceful dancer while moving her way out of the line of fire.

Jaime twirled about, gathering the magic in her hands before sending outward. Long streams of flames began to swirl about like tendrils reaching for prey as she spun about.

Finnrick gestured at her with a finger gun and clicked his tongue, bringing down his thumb like a hammer of a gun. Jaime’s eyes widened with surprise as she felt some foreign entity began to shift and make her spell uneven. She tried to maintain it but Finnrick’s surge of magic was too much for her. The magic she held exploded, the flames vanishing as the force of the spell breaking sent her sprawling to the floor.

Finnrick was already on the move, arching his arm backwards before throwing forward a bolt of lightning.

Jaime sprung to her feet, leaning as far back as she could to narrowly avoid attack. The lightning bolt struck the dome but before she could react, it bounced and struck her directly from behind.

Luckily it was a training session and only gave a her a light shove forward. Jaime flapped about wildly before she manged to get her balance steady.

“Game, set and match!” Finnrick beamed with a grin.

Jaime rolled her eyes “Big surprise my genius brother won. The dome’s so small I barely had room to move!”

“Exactly!”

Jaime shot her brother suspicious glare.

Finnrick rose his hands “Hey, never let your opponent dictate the field of battle if you can manage it.”

“Yeah, I should’ve seen that coming” Jaime sighed.

Finnrick made his way over and wrapped his sister in a loving one armed hug “Remember sis, real life has no rules.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jaime nudged Finnrick’s ribs playfully “Whatever you say cheater.”

Finnrick ruffled his sister’s hair playfully “Life lessons are important to share to your siblings. Need help with anything?”

“Oh you better be spending time with me. After that thrashing you gave me, you owe me big.”

Finnrick stood up straight, hand raised in a lax salute.

Jaime responded by poking his stomach.

“Oww, I give I give!” Finnrick chuckled “Why must you resort to violence?”

“Family upbringing I guess.”

The two siblings fell into a peaceful quiet as they began shifting and searching through Jaime’s notes.

“Jaime?”

“Hmm?”

“Question.”

“Answer.”

“Any word on the big move?”

Jaime stopped, her hands hovering over a book.

“No” Jaime murmured weakly “No word yet. They’re still debating I guess.”

“Mhm” Finnrick replied without much else.

Jaime turned to her brother “Finn, I…”

Finnrick rose a hand to stop her “It’s your life. Your choice. If this is what you want, then I will be happy for you.”

“But?” Jaime added in.

Finnrick pursed his lips, running his finger down the spine of a nearby book “I want you to be content as well. I know you…..I mean….you’re still wearing the ring.”

Jaime glance down to her engagement ring. She could still feel Casey’s warmth underneath her fingertips, his heart beating rapidly in time with hers.

“Think about it” Finnrick said with a hint of finality “Life’s too random to live with regrets.”

“So” Jaime cleared her throat, desperate to change the subject “Any news on your angel?”

Silence.

“Finn?”

She found him fidgeting with his fingers, his cheeks blazing a bright red as he averted his gaze.

“Finn! You found her?! And you didn't tell me?!”

Finnrick gave a shy nod, biting his lips nervous.

Jaime lunged at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him in a loving embrace “That’s great bro! When am I meeting her?”

Finnrick turned to her, unsure what she meant “What?”

“When am I meeting her” she repeated.

“Umm….why?”

“To interrogate her of course!”

“Jaime!”

“What? Just cause you like her doesn’t mean I do.”

“Jaime, don’t you dare!”

“Try and stop me!”

Finnrick dove for her but Jaime saw it coming a mile away. She pivoted on her toes, twirling out of the way of Finnrick’s attack. As her brother began to chase her around the office, Jaime quietly enjoyed this moment between siblings.

She was going to miss this when she left Newton Haven behind.

#Mirror's Edge #Original Work #original story #my work

9 notes · View notes