#treating razor bumps

[baronessvonglitter]

Pretty Please

QZ!Joel Miller x f!bookworm!reader | WC: 2.7K

Summary: your roommate Joel Miller is stressed out, and you offer a creative solution to ease that frustration

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, slight bullying (name calling - from Joel), reader is a bookworm and wears glasses, no age description for reader, Boston QZ, friends with benefits, oral sex (f receiving), soft!Joel, sub!Joel, dom/sub themes, edging, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, Joel loves nerdy girls, reader is *shaved*, no use of y/n

Author's Note: I know that we all love a good strong DOM Joel, but I wanted to wade in the waters of the Ocean of Possibilities and see what a more submissive Joel would be like. Just like those CEO/investment banker types who visit dominatrices at the end of a long workday just to be treated like lesser than and hand over the reins of power for a bit. Maybe there's a part of Joel that likes being put in his place 🤫

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

It's just past curfew in the QZ and you're curled up with a good book. The new (to you) apartment you live in came with a great collection of literary masterpieces and your only delight in this cold, cruel world is reading by flashlight, at least until your surly, sourpuss roommate Joel Miller comes home.

The front door opens and slams shut loudly, making the thin walls vibrate. You sigh. He's back.

Joel walks in, looking tired and cantankerous as usual. You quickly shut off your light but not before he sees it. "What have I told you about wastin' the batteries?" he puts his hands on his hips, glaring at you.

Not in a mood to argue, you mumble a quick "Sorry" and scurry past him, but he catches your shoulder. "Just 'cause I can get stuff doesn't mean I will. You need to be more careful with our supplies.. what's this stuff you're readin' anyway?" He makes a grab for your book which you quickly hide behind your back.

"Just some Shakespeare," you lie.

Joel narrows his eyes as if detecting your fib. Suddenly he pulls you toward him and takes the book you're hiding. Eyeing the cover, he visibly blushes and swallows hard. "What's a nice girl like you readin' trash like this for?"

You find it impossible to meet his eyes as your heart roars in your ears. He has your copy of romantic erotica, an old book written decades ago about a woman who trains her lover to be her sex slave. You think to yourself there's no way you can finish it now that he's judging you.

"All right, Bookworm. Out," Joel says, nodding towards the hall before he settles in with a stiff whiskey drink.

Sighing you go to your room. Ever since you moved in a couple months ago after your former QZ was abandoned, Joel has treated you like little more than an imposition. His seemingly affectionate nicknames of "Bookworm" or "Four Eyes" on account of your fondness for books and your need of eyeglasses, respectively, has you wondering if he even cares to remember your real name.

Putting your book away you contemplate another existence. In your story a young woman brings a powerful man to his knees. Had the world not changed so irrevocably, would you have had the fortune of living a life like the characters in your books?

A shower is in order. Once you wash your hair and shave your legs (with shampoo and razors that Joel begrudgingly smuggled for you when you'd politely asked) your spirits are lifted. Hair towel-dried, you put on an oversize tee and some panties and start down the hall where you bump into Joel. He takes a look at your sleepwear and you can see the blush creep up his neck. "Can you put somethin' else on? I can see right through your shirt."

You look down and see your nipples, two puckered points through the cotton of your tee. "I'm just going to bed. Besides, I can wear what I want," you say in an unusually defiant tone.

Joel gets quiet, his body language clearly showing he's getting annoyed. "I just don't want to see you half-naked, Four Eyes." His frustration comes through clear. "Don't you have anything else you can wear?"

You sigh and walk past him to your bedroom closet and pull out a thick flannel shirt. You change with your back to him, feeling his eyes on you like two burning holes in your flesh. His breath hitches, eyes glued to his old shirt he'd let you borrow a time or two. Something primal awakens in him, which he quickly squashes.

"I'm all out of clean pajama pants," you shrug.

"Find some," he says sternly. "That shirt's gonna ride up on you. It's inappropriate."

"No." You stand your ground. "I'm not changing again." You take a moment to look at him, really look at him. He looks stiff, the veins prominent in his neck and forehead. You imagine his warm flesh beneath your kiss, and part of you softens towards him. "You really need to relax. You look stressed."

"Yeah, like you really give a shit," he mutters, looking away.

Studying him more intensely you realize he's not frustrated because you're not obeying him. From the bulge in his jeans it's evident he's turned on by you. Joel Miller is a good-looking guy when he's not being a full-on jerk. Hell, he may even be good-looking then. You take the situation into your hands and approach him, your tongue gliding over your lips. "I could help you relax.. if you want."

Joel freezes and you notice his breathing quicken. "What.. what do you mean by that?"

"You're upset with my lack of 'decent' clothes because I'm a distraction to you. Even if you don't like me, you're still attracted to me."

He gets flustered and it gives you satisfaction to see how much power you have over him. "Maybe.. no. I don't want to. I mean it. I have no interest in anything like that with you."

"Really? Your jeans are having a different reaction."

He looks down quickly, embarrassed and a bit surprised. "It doesn't mean anything," he looks askance.

"Do you want to touch me, Joel?" You start to unbutton your flannel shirt.

"You're my roommate. It's wrong," he says, yet his large, strong hands are reaching into your shirt. His fingers are rough and calloused but damn they feel like heaven as he cups your breasts, runs his thumbs slowly over your nipples.

"Don't think anymore, Joel. Just feel. Just be here with me."

He's unused to following his purely bodily instincts, having to live on his survival instincts for so long. But your skin is so soft and you're so warm and clean from your shower. "God, I want you," he whispers.

You take the lead and kiss him, filling in the space between you. Joel doesn't hold back, cupping your ass in his hands and pressing you to his need, his bulge in direct contact with your clit. Your panties dampen in response. Realizing how far he's taken it, how far he wants to take it, he mumbles an apology. "S..sorry."

"No. No apologies. I want this. Don't you?"

"God yes," he growls, meeting your eyes. He watches, rapt, as you slowly unbutton your shirt and remove it. He's speechless as you go to sit on the edge of the bed, knees parted. You beckon him with one finger.

"I know you've always wanted this," you tell him. "You fantasize about eating me out, how good I taste on your tongue."

As he comes to you he wonders where the shy, docile woman has gone. But he likes this new version of you. "How do you know what I think about?" he asks as his fingers curl into the waistband of your panties. You lift your hips as he eases your panties off. What he sees makes him growl with yearning. "You shaved."

You rest on your elbows, satisfied with the look of sheer gluttony on his face. "A girl's gotta have some luxuries in these trying times.." you smirk and run your fingers delicately over your clit and your smooth folds. Joel moves your hand away. Keeping his eyes on you he laps his broad tongue over your delicate womanhood, then swipes his tongue side to side over your sweet little clit.

You moan loudly at the intimate contact, threading your fingers through his hair. Joel devours you, and the little moans he makes reverberate through you, fill you with vibrations. While he's sucking your clit he slides two fingers in, crooking them so they rub your G-spot, and this combination makes you squirm with delight until you're pushed over the edge. He doesn't stop there, lapping up your honey, holding your thighs as they quake around his head.

"I've wanted this for so long," he growls against your belly, kissing his way up, divesting himself of his clothes. He feels your body heat radiate against him and teases your opening with the tip of his cock, spreading your slick onto him. He kisses both breasts, nuzzles your neck before claiming your mouth again, lining himself up with you. Out of habit you remove your glasses but he stops you. "Leave them on," he whispers. "You look so damn hot, like a naughty schoolgirl.." He watches as you put them on again, your eyes big and bright behind the lenses. Keeping his eyes on you he lets himself sink into your heat, slowly, letting you get accustomed to his size.

"Fuck," you whisper in awe as he fills you, starts to move against you.

He revels in the feel of your soft body underneath his, the snugness of your cunt that dares to take every inch of him. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, taking in the clean scent of your freshly washed skin, the natural fragrance of your arousal. With each press forward he elicits moans, sighs, gasps. Your heart thunders within when you feel how deeply you're joined.

"I need more," you tell him. "Please.."

"More?" His voice is shaky with desire.

"Harder," you gasp.

A dark growl gathers in his throat as he sees this new side of you begin to reveal itself. "You sure you want that from me?"

You nod. "I want you to release all your stress out inside me. Just use me. Please." You look up at him with innocent eyes. "Just for tonight, Joel. Tonight I'm yours."

His body looms large over you. "That's a big request, y'know."

"And I can handle it. I'm a big girl."

He nods, excitement flowing through his veins. "If anything becomes too much, you tell me. Okay?"

Your heart flip flops when he tells you this. Despite this random hookup, he's proving to be a caring gentleman. "I'll tell you, I promise."

Joel can't help but smile and he kisses your forehead. "Good." With heavy breaths he uses all his strength to fuck you into oblivion. He takes out his frustrations on your willing, eager body, his thick, large cock plunging into your tight cunt. "I'm gonna fuckin' tear you apart," he mutters.

His rough way with you takes your breath away, makes you tremble. Joel doesn't hold back, ruts against you, mouth watering as he watches your breasts bounce with each thrust. "God, you're gorgeous," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you.

You whimper as your mouths meet again, tongues dancing against each other. "Joel.. you're so fucking good."

Grunting in response, he presses against you deeper, harder. You gasp, your body accepting every movement, stretching you more than you thought possible. "You feel too good," he moans.

"You're in.. so deep," you sigh. "Just a little more, I'm gonna--"

"Wait!" he groans, pulling himself away from you. "You're making me.. almost.. I can't hold back," he breathes heavily.

"Shh.." you climb onto his lap. "Let me help you. I'll do all the work," you promise. "All you have to do is grab my hips or touch my breasts," you instruct him, lining up his cock to fit into you again. Joel watches himself disappear between your swollen pussy lips.

"God.. slow.. please," he grunts, grabbing hold of your hips, moving his hands all over your body, exploring every inch of you.

"Yes," you agree, sighing sweetly. "You feel so good.. I like seeing what I can get out of you, Miller."

He lets out a short moan, gripping your hips tightly, running his fingers up the insides of your thighs. His touch is ubiquitous as you ride him slowly and thoroughly. "Please don't stop.. please don't stop." He tries to make it a command but he's so caught up in you that it comes off as begging. "God I want.. please, I need.." he can't even finish his sentences for how much his lust and need has taken over him.

"I know what you need," you moan, moving faster, slamming your hips down on his. The sounds of your colliding flesh fill the room.

"God damn it!" Joel grunts, unable to continue his line of thought. He starts to growl and groan, gritting his teeth.

You smile, biting your lip as you watch him coming apart, completely helpless beneath you. "I'm gonna tame this beast," you tell him boldly. "No one else can do it but me."

"I won't let anyone else handle me," he growls, trying to say something more meaningful, but his brain is overwhelmed. He's just handed over all control to you and it's making him crazy. "Just.. please.."

You stop moving altogether, staying still. "Please what?" you tease him from finishing.

He's about to blow but he can't even get a full sentence out. "Please," he repeats, shaking now just from the feel of you. "Don't stop.."

You remain still. "Say, 'pretty please.'"

"No," he groans. "You.. you won't get me like that." But there's a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Oh," you pout. "That's a shame. I was getting so close and I know you were, too." You start moving slowly and teasingly.

Joel's breath is faltering, pulse dangerously rapid. "Not like this.. wait.. I'm gonna.."

You stop again, a stern look on your face even though you're utterly enjoying dominating this big strong alpha male. "No. You're not," you command him.

Only able to communicate in grunts and groans, Joel thrusts upward, needing the relief that would make you both find release. You gasp, your cunt clenching around him. It would be so easy to just let him keep going, but you hold your hips firmly in place. "'Pretty please,'" you remind him.

"I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum," he whines, desperate now, his fingers tightening on your flesh.

You remove his grip and pin him down. "'Pretty. Please.'" Your lips are millimeters from his, and you can see tears start to well in his dark eyes.

He's losing it now. He's right on the precipice, pain and pleasure mixed as one while you edge him. "All right, okay, I'll say it.. pretty please," he grunts out, voice cracking.

"'Pretty please with sugar on top,'" you smirk. "Say it."

Joel shuts his eyes in frustration. "Pretty please with sugar on top."

You give his lips a tiny lick. "Good boy." Sitting up again you start riding him. You've won but you're both going to reap the benefits.

"God, keep goin'," he moans, eyes still shut, breath labored as he pushes against your hips.

"I'm gonna fucking break you, Miller," you growl, riding him at top speed, without mercy.

Joel is at a complete loss of self, having lost any semblance of control. "Do it.. please," are the only words he can manage among incoherent sounds and grunts as he rises up to hold you.

You feel the friction between you like lightning as you satisfy yourself on his generous cock. "Joel Miller, you're such a good boy for me!" You move against each other in desperation, seeking the moment that will bring you to cum together. You feel him start to twitch and just then your climax hits like a tidal wave. You scream his name as you feel his copious release inside you. All Joel can say is your name, your real name, uttered in an entreaty of gratitude as he buries his face in your neck.

"Sorry if I got a little rough with you before.." he mumbles into your skin.

"I like your roughness," you tell him as you ruffle his soft grey hair with your fingers. "You had a lot that you needed to let out."

He lifts his head and softly kisses the side of your mouth. "Just so you know, I don't intend on stoppin' at just tonight. I have a lot of stress that needs releasing."

"Stressful times we're living in.." You trace his beard with your fingertips and he quickly moves in to kiss your palm.

"Damn right. And it looks like you did tame this beast."

You grin. "Does that make me Beauty?"

"Maybe that's what I'll call you from now on.."

"It's a lot better than 'Bookworm' or 'Four Eyes'."

"I'll still call you those things, from time to time," he grins, and your entire body is warm from his smile.

You are delicate with him now, knowing this man will probably steal your heart just as you've already stolen his.

divider by @saradika 👑

[ferrarifinnick]

MANSCAPING! | SQUID GAME HEADCANONS

how they each tend to their gardens…

includes: sang-woo, junho, myung-gi, thanos (beginning of each section is bold and coloured for clarity) pairing: squid game men x f!reader warnings: language, male and female anatomy descriptions, gender expectations and stereotypes ???, established relationships implied.

a/n: i’m in such a headcanon phase lately, and i have so many ideas. if you have any, do share them and i’ll like 99% likely post it asap. also how hot is it imagining sang-woo being all smooth and soft when you’re running your hands down his abs to his—sksksk

— SANG-WOO

reputation is of the utmost importance to SANG-WOO, and the way he best controls this is through his appearance; hygiene included. his suits are pressed and only worn if wrinkle free, just like his hair is combed, styled and washed every single morning without fail. so it comes as no surprise that beneath the privacy of the clothes he wears, he is as equally well taken care of.

he shaves his face every couple of days, but once a week he’ll do his chest down under the waistline of his boxers, too. it’s become a routine, and one he’s meticulous about, at that. he frequently changes the blade of his razor to prevent bumps, uses a premium shaving cream, and even pats down the area with a perfume-free after shave.

you like to call him obsessive, and maybe he is, but it’s all because he’s chasing that gleam of approval in your eyes when you pull down his slacks. and also, it’s his way of putting effort into his image, in a way that only you are privy to.

— JUN-HO

JUN-HO is less high maintenance than sang-woo. he likes a sprinkle of stubble, even thinks it looks better on him than clean shaven. the way his pubic hair blends perfectly into his happy trail on his lower abdomen, it just looks right. masculine in a way he likes, but not unruly. but when his pubic hair starts growing that little bit too long, he’ll clean it up with an electric shaver, the kind you shave the hair on your head with.

it isn’t something he notices until it’s too long, so he’ll usually do it impulsively. expect to hear vibrating behind the closed bathroom door one random afternoon, but make sure to knock before stepping in to investigate, because jun-ho likes his privacy when manscaping.

you would have definitely walked in on him before, expecting to see him using one of your vibrators for some private relief with all intentions to help. but seeing him shaving was somehow more embarrassing for jun-ho. something about being caught with his pants down, holding a mirror under his balls while trimming them, felt worse. so just knock in the future, yeah?

— MYUNG-GI

yeah, shaving isn’t MYUNG-GI’s speed. that razor’s for his face, and if it touches anything else, he will incinerate it. that goes for you using his razor, too! don’t let him know you’ve used it to shave your legs or underarms, and dear god don’t let him know it’s gone between your legs. his little pathetic heart couldn’t take it.

he’ll buy your own razor if he ever finds out, and it’ll be the most obnoxious shade of pink just so he can put it next to his blue one as a reminder not to fuck up like that again. but don’t think badly of him, okay? it’ll be one of those fancy scented ones with the built in lubricant that glides over your skin.

so while he won’t shave his pubic hair, he will control it by trimming down his bush like a well kept hedge in a garden. he treats his pubic hair like a staple of his masculinity, and expects you to like it as well. if you don’t, keep it to yourself. he doesn’t want to hear it anyway.

— THANOS

there’s only one style THANOS is rocking, and that’s au natural, baby! he doesn’t care to put an ounce of effort into controlling the chaos around his manhood, because why should he? he’s not a girl, he doesn’t have to live up to the same laborious expectations to be plucked bald like a chicken, so why on earth would he? it’s stupid to expect otherwise, and he won’t be afraid to say that to your face if you bring up the topic of him manscaping.

after all, it saves him time, money, pain, and honestly, if you have a problem with it, he’s going to question just how into men you really are. he’ll tell you only real men have pubic hair like him, manly men who are better than those other guys that are too feminine for his liking.

he’d make you feel so stupid for having a preference that isn’t him, and won’t hesitate to laugh you out the room if you disagree. but if you get all sad, he’ll half-ass an apology and roll his eyes, then suggest you get on your knees and learn to appreciate his manhood.

i’m just saying… if i saw any of these men in a towel, i wouldn’t care what the f they have going on down there just gimme. like, comment, reblog. love <33

[pedge-page]

Maybe Preggo needs a pedicure? Or help shaving??

how about both!

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Spa Day

Warnings: thigh fucking, some degrading language, a bit of m masturbation, use of razors to shave, Daddy/Mommy used lightly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel is sitting on the edge of the tub as you prop your calf over his thigh. His heavily pregnant wife has her hair in a turban, green minty mud mask slopped over your face. You’re leaned back so far trying to spread your legs that your chin is just right above the soapy waterline. 

“I told you, you need to get IN the tub to shave my ass.”

Joel’s got your fancy scented shaving cream and a 5 blade razor in one hand, his trousers soaked from suds and bath water as you continue to squirm around trying to get comfortable. This whole ordeal is taking way longer because he doesn’t want to accidecanlly knick you, but you keep moving without forewarning him!

“I don’t understand,” he huff for the third time. “Why do I need to shave your pussy and ass, if you’re getting a PEDICURE?”

Did feet spa evolve into something that he wasn’t aware of?

“You don’t. But I haven’t shaved in a long time and I need my legs shaved for my pedicure. And while I’m at it, might as well do the whole thing.”

“You mean, while I’M at it.”

“Yes exactly!” you say, all giddy that he’s finally getting it now.

He leans back to get a view of where he might be working between your legs.

“It’s all soap. I can’t see a thing.”

You roll your eyes and throw your leg off him. His shirt wrinkles from the soapy fingers that grip it tightly as you pull him down to you. So much so that he’s lurching for the other end of the tub to hold himself from tumbling in.

“Get. In. The. Tub.” You seethe. Why is it so fucking difficult?

He purses his lips, but your eyes don’t back down.

Joel curses under his breath before sitting and stripping his shirt over his head.

You do little hand claps, licking your lips as if you’re getting a tasty treat. Forgetting that this is entirely a different kind of treatment.

 As he shucks off his pants and boxers, now fully naked with his semi hard cock dangling between his legs, you tap your clit and whisper “Settle down, girl,” in hopes of trying to be a good client to your free-worker husband.

Joel clambers in the tub, hissing at the heat of the water. For someone who wants the AC blowing like a winter wonderland in the house, it amazes him that you’re still good with bathing in lava.

He sits his knees up, crammed in such a terribly awkward position since he’s got to get down low. Thankfully the tub is big enough for the two of you to face each other.

“Spread,” he orders you, and you have to clench your fist by your side, easing your nub to stop jumping so excitedly underwater from his voice. You do your best to drape your ankles over the sides of the tub, your lower back comforted by the tub-pillow that Joel had bought you.

The razor glints in his veiny paw. “Daddy has sharp tools in his hand. Are you gonna behave?”

You nod vigorously. 

He aligns himself as close as possible, pushing the bubbles away so he can see under the water. Even with your bump in the way, it’s already difficult to see straight down to the source of your turmoil. His hands gently caress your inner thighs, getting a feel for his working area the same way he does for any detailed project he’s about to take on. Joel got such steady, careful movements when it comes to his craft, but having him look at you like a piece of valuable wood he’s about to carve a beautiful rose into is making you wet in a different way.

He dips the razor below the water and begins to shave away the hair that had been growing between your thighs, over top and around, before making his way to your slit. 

“Isn’t there a better way to do this?” He asks. He’s hesitant, not because he doesn’t think he can do it, but because he doesn’t trust your sporadic brain possibly jumping on him and cutting yourself. 

“Probably,” you snicker. 

He puffs his cheeks but gets back to work, trimming your front neatly in slow movements. If he just focuses entirely on your folds, the slippery traces of your juices evident even through the sudsy water, he can just keep his eyes from drifting up to your bouncing enormous breasts floating happily above.

“Alright, that’s the best I can get. Your ass is just gonna have to…”

You’re already moving like a hippo in the shallows, sloshing the water around as you roll over to your knees and sit up. Your pregnant belly sags heavily towards the water. But you manage to prop your arms over the edge and wiggling your naked butt to him.

He pinches his eyes together with his finger and thumb. THIS is why he didn’t want to get in the tub. Was it over you hurting yourself? A little. Doing reckless shit like this with a baby who could bump its head into the basin? Possibly. 

Having to now sit up to shave your ass, baring his hard cock close enough to you that he won’t be able to keep you placate if you were to turn around?

Yeah.

“C’mon, baby can’t dangle like this all day,” you hum. You sway your hips again enticingly.

You don’t expect the sharp slap to jolt you forward a bit, a gasp falling from your lips as the sound echoes in the bathroom.

You feel his stomach and chest drape over your back, his hot breath steaming over your shoulder. “Told you,” he grumbles. “To behave.” His large hand caress below your bump, helping to hold some of the weight while his other fists his cock and slides its between your thighs.

You bite your lip and moan lightly, eyes closed as he rocks you back and forth on his dick. He doesn’t penetrate, just glides through your thighs, all soapy while his tip nudges your clit each time it punctures through to the other side.

You’re both so wet over each other, warm and dizzy from the steam of the room as he fucks your slit. 

“Just don’t know when to be a good girl.” 

You shake your head. On the contrary, you know EXACTLY when to be a bad girl. 

“Daddy, put it in,” you whine. You can’t take your hands away from the edge of the tub, less you slip and tumble down due to the weight of your baby. 

You feel the rumble of his chest, laughing at your demands. “Bad Mommies don’t get cock up their slutty cunts—“

His voice goes quiet when you arch your back and wail out in pleasure, your clit twitching and thighs quaking with the unmistakable sign of your orgasm washing through you. 

Joel sits back as you heave through your pants. 

“Wow. That was… you needed that, Huh?”

You slowly roll over to you butt safely on the tub floor again, hazily nodding as you come to your senses. You begin to notice Joel’s fist pumping his cock underwater, fully okay with just jerking off as he watches your naked pregnant body covered in soap and dripping wet like a goddess.

“Your turn,” you hum, and Joel grins, parting his legs slightly as you crawl close to him. 

He’s not ready for the super human strength you have when you hoist on of his ankles up in the air, pulling him down until his head dips under water.

 He struggles up and sputters out the nasty taste he inhaled through his nose. “What??”

Joel wipes the soap and water from his eyes and slicks his hair back to see you with a razor in one hand and a deathgrip around his ankle in the other.

“You should shave too. Its just courtesy since they’ll be touching your crusty feet, plus when they put the moisturizer and hot towel and stones on your legs, it won’t get all stuck up in your hair—“

“WHAT are you on about? I’m not getting the pedicure. YOU are!”

But your eyes get all (fake) shiny with (fake) tears, you’re lower lip trembling with a (fake) pout. “You mean,” you hiccup, your voice soft and sad and FUCK if it were anyone else, you’d have them convened with an Oscar worth performance, “you don’t wanna… do it … with me?” 

He’s not falling for it. “That’s Maria’s thing with you.”

Your voice goes straight in a matter of fact tone, foregoing the sad pregnant hormonal voice. “Actually she and Tommy are taking trip up north so she canceled this weekend.”

Joel curses Tommy in his mind for letting such an important detail slip his mind. “Mhm. So I’m her substitute.”

“NooOoo! You’re my husband and you want to do this with me because you love spending time with me!”

Joel narrows his eyes. His cock twitches helplessly between his legs, and it doesn’t seem like you’re inching to give him a hand.

“Now hold still, Mommy has sharp tools in her hands. Wouldn’t want any accidents.”

Your fingers that are wrapped around his foot slowly glaze along his thigh, down below the water, tickling his skin until you’re oh so close to his inner thigh. tensing, he feels your knuckles graze his length.

 And if you behave like a good Daddy, you’ll get your reward.” There’s a sadistic curl to your sweet little grin. 

Joel settles back and closes his eyes as you begin hacking off the forest on his calves. He tries sending a signal to his cock to get comfy, because there’s no way he’s squirming or making any movements while you’ve got a weapon in your hand. He opens one eye to see you happily shaving his legs, splashing water over top so it washes away his clear skin.

He decides he’ll let his little wife play in her sandbox. 

-

“Ow-OW-OWW!” Joel shouts. The technician huffs in frustration as he flicks his feet away from her for the 5th time.

You grip his bicep from the chair next to him. “Joel. Calm down. It’s just—“

“She’s cheese grating my feet!”

He’s squirming like a toddler who doesn’t like the feeling of shit up his ass, were it not for the fact that he’s a grown ass man just getting a pedicure. 

You shake your head. “It’s a pumice stone. To remove your calluses. You got so much dead skin on there, because you never come here when I tell you!”

“It’s a cheese grater, and she’s grating my feet off.”

His feet DID need a lot of work. They were dry, always scratching you in your sleep whenever you cuddle up. His legs did look shiny though, thanks to your hard work hunched over the tub shaving. It was the least you could do for the poor lady trying to tend to his hobbit feet.

When the placed the hot stones on your calves, you sighed happily. Joel’s eyes were wide, and when they touched his shins, he screamed.

You giggled under your hand. Yeah, he’s making an embarrassment of himself, shouting and cursing and squirming everywhere because he’s so sensitive. He probably thinks the rest of the women in here are laughing at him and his fragile manhood, his pregnant wife dragging him here to get a pedicure. But you see the looks on their faces, it’s a mix of awe and jealousy to have such a hunk of a man want to do something fun with his wife, so secure in his masculinity. You grab his hand and kiss his knuckles.

He offers you his gritted teeth, lips pulled back as he tries to smile through the pain, all pressed back against the massage chair like he wants to fall behind it, holding in his next shout when she clips his cuticles. 

He’s getting his cock sucked so good tonight, you can’t wait to spoil him.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[shotmrmiller]

ok fuck that "reader reminding them of Soap" thing has me fucked up so what if one day you snap.

Ghost moans Johnny's name, or Gaz says "you're always so funny, Johnny" or Price, god forbid, calls you Soap, and you fucking snap.

you're not Johnny. you don't want to be Johnny. when you have all three of them together, you scream at them. how you almost don't want to live anymore because of the way they treat you. how much you hate it. how much you hate them for doing this to you. how your entire life nobody has loved you, and the first time someone does it's because you remind them of their dead friend.

mmmm this is the only correct answer.

they don't want you. they want johnny, their sniper— not you, someone who could never fill the massive boots he's left behind.

eventually, it wears you down.

if you do blow up, the only one that says anything at all is simon and his tongue transforms into a razor-sharp blade that effortlessly slips itself in between your ribs.

"you're right. you could never be him."

without a hint of remorse, he turns his back and walks away without a backward glance, taking the knife with him.

the rest also abandon you, leaving you alone to bleed.

the weeks after are insufferable.

kyle wont speak to you. simon doesn't even acknowledge your existence, bumping into you roughly— almost like he wants to walk through you in hopes that you aren't real.

even your captain keeps his sentences short, ending the interaction with a terse 'dismissed.'

so you pick up the remnant tatters of your pride and go to Laswell, begging her to transfer you anywhere else.

a few days later, you've packed a few belongings that are yours and not johnny's and get ready to take a plane to america.

no one bothers to see you off.

maybe you're sent to graves who takes care of all of his shadows. he treats them all equally, like a true leader.

[prolix-yuy]

Beautiful Release

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You and Din have an agreement. Simple, clean, easy. But not this time.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, IT'S PEGGING DIN TIME! Anal sex (m receiving), rough sex, sex toys, fingering (m receiving), handjob, frottage, blowjob, swallowing, cumshot, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), mild dubcon (Reader isn't aware of Din's mental state and stops the session to re-negotiate boundaries), painful sex, sex as self-flagellation, hurt/comfort.

Notes: Welcome to my addition to the Peg That Middle Aged Man Event 2024! This idea had been bumping around in my brain and this gave me the perfect excuse to write it. Thanks @wannab-urs for organizing this event, making the gorgeous banners, and giving me a chance to live my fantasies after S3 gave us the most delicious kneeling restrained Din image. I will never forget it, it's burned into my brain forever.

Set after S2 and before The Book of Boba Fett.

Cross-posted on AO3

He’s come to you before, but never like this.

Din always treats your encounters like serendipity, but from the first time you’ve known how far from the truth that is. He finds ways to drift into your path, tilting his helmet like he never expected you to be at this spaceport, which you prefer for its discretion, or in this cantina, which serves a hell of a barium fizz. The niceties always devolve into the silent request, which you never fail to fulfill.

But now, there’s a holomessage blinking on your control panel.

Send me your coordinates. Usual encoding.

It’s brisk, cold, mostly to protect you both, but even then something’s off. He’s never admitted to seeking you out. Something stirs deep in your stomach, consulting the encoding slug he gave you ages ago in case you ever needed him. Funny, the first time you’d use it would be because you think he needs you.

Your winding relationship with Din Djarin began at the business end of a blaster, but you can’t fault him for that. The ship you were flying then had all the hallmarks of a slaver vessel, but when he found your crew of rebel sympathizers he lowered his weapon. One escort and a few short-lived conversations later, and you’d forged a razor-thin alliance. 

Your paths wound their way across and through each other for over a year, and in that time Din warmed to you. He gave you his name, his allegiances, his contacts if needed. In return you forged documents and built jammers for his ramshackle ship. Mutually beneficial, and after a time pleasantly warm. His laugh always surprised you, a low chuckle when you turned a phrase just right on him. 

And the kid! The curious little gremlin that had been accompanying him more in recent times did help to smooth the rough spots. Grogu’s presence always brightened your days, brief moments of pure joy from his tireless antics. Din seemed to be ever the exasperated protector, but when he tucked Grogu into his arm his aura glowed. 

However, the times when Din “stumbled” upon you with seemingly no purpose had little to do with play dates or trades. Well, maybe only in the most euphemistic sense.

It was on a cargo run - cargo being more frightened people fleeing under the guise of your fake shipping business - that Din first encountered what would bring him back to you time and time again. There was a man among the stowaways who took an interest in you, the feeling mutual. He wound his way around like a lothcat in heat, and when you whispered how you might be able to pass the time he enthusiastically agreed. 

You weren’t much of an exhibitionist, but the ship wasn’t meant for privacy. So when Din happened upon you bending the man over a cargo crate, your strap slickly splitting him open as he moaned behind your clamped hand, you did feel some mild embarrassment. You weren’t sure how long he watched you thrust into the other man, but the little cough that alerted you to his presence made you turn and take him in.

He was clearly affected, hand gripping his belt as the other clenched by his side. Fascinating. The Mandalorian had surprises in store. 

The man garbled about sucking Din’s cock, letting the Mando cum on his face while you pounded his tight hole, but you stuck your fingers in his mouth and picked up your rhythm again. You’d met other Mandalorians in your travels, but Din’s particular religion was much stricter than most. He might take hefty offense if you assumed any of the armor could come off. Instead you let him watch without comment as your companion came all over the side of the cargo crate, soothing him through the aftershocks. As you cleaned him up you noticed your audience fled, and you determined never to speak of this. 

It would take two months for Din to come to you. 

“People like this?” he asked when you showed him your strap and assortment of attachments. You shrugged, picking out the one you secretly thought he’d enjoy.

“Some do, some don’t. It’s just one of many things I like,” you said, leaning against your bedroom wall as he filled the small space with restless energy. “I��m sure you like plenty of things too.”

There it was. The little roll of the shoulders and flex of a hand that told you Din wasn’t as inexperienced as some would believe. 

“Never tried something like this,” he mumbled, and you smiled under the knowledge that he was nervous. Din Djarin, feared throughout the galaxy, and dearer friend than you ever expected, had something he wanted and didn't know how to ask for.

“Would you like to try it?” you said, taking the last barrier away. He tilted the helmet down, fingers restless on his hip. 

“Yes.”

That first night you didn’t fuck him, though by the end he was so close to begging you almost came from the sound. Instead you opened him up with your fingers, got him used to the feeling of fullness and how to connect it to pleasure, while he laid on your bed and gripped the sheets so hard you thought he’d rip them. His pants bunched across his thighs, you got to admire the cords of muscle rippling as you made him shake and choke. His cock, velvety and weeping on his stomach, made your mouth water, but you only offered to suck it when he was just on the precipice. Your hot mouth wrapping around his head, two clever fingers stroking his prostate, tipped him over into bliss as he shouted his completion. Pride swelled in your chest at his belabored breath, chestplate heaving and thighs quivering on either side of your head. 

When you returned from cleaning up he was already dressed again, despite your protests to wait and let you ease him down from this new experience. He thanked you, awkwardly, and left quickly. Lying in the same bed that night, still smelling of him, you reasoned with yourself. He probably had a lot of feelings to sort out, both around his pleasure and the fact that you gave it to him. You hoped he trusted you enough to know you’d be discreet. And, as your fingers slid into your underwear, you hoped he’d seek you out again.

It was only a week before you were at the same spaceport again, his heavy boots clanking up your ramp. You tried to hide your own nerves, but when Din stood before you and let the visor drag up and down your body, a delicious grin crept onto your face.

“Ready to try more?”

Indeed he was.

He enters your ship without preamble, a brief flit of concern clouding your features at how quickly he disarmed your security measures. You weren’t expecting him for another hour. He must have jumped to get to you. 

It’s thrilling, to know the Mandalorian’s need is so great. 

But when he enters and closes the door behind him, the energy is…off. Not seductive, teasing, edged like the other times. No, he’s holding his body so tight and so still. There’s nothing aggressive in it, but you glimpse why his enemies fear him. Without a face, and with so much obscuring the flesh beneath, you’re not sure when he’ll strike. 

He catches you rummaging through your drawer, the strap in your hand. Assessing, you give him a gentler smile than usual, hands visible, softening your stance.

“Hello, Din.”

He nods, quickly, unbuckling his belt and yanking his cape free. Both fall to the floor carelessly. You press on.

“How about you tell me what you want?” you say, watching him carefully as he opens his pants plaquet. The mouthwatering strip of skin you covet peeks from beneath his top.

“Just need…need this,” he says, and while naturally a man of few words you’d taught him to be more vocal in this respect. 

“Okay, Din. How about you kneel on the bed and we start there?” Your voice lowers into a soothing register, reaching for his arm. 

“No,” he almost shouts, startling your hand back. He recovers. “No, I want…” You can practically hear him licking his lips on a sigh, slowing himself down. “Can you sit against the headboard?”

Brows raised, you nod. He’s never ridden you before, always preferring to let you take him from behind or on his back. Pulling the strap-on over your leggings, you settle against the headboard and wait for him. He doesn’t take long, kneeling on the bed briefly in contemplation before swinging over your lap. Shucking his pants half down his legs, you can’t resist a giggle.

“Might be better to take them off,” you tease, letting your hands lay featherlight on his hips. A huff crackles through the vocoder but he doesn’t move to disrobe further. 

“I’ll open you up a bit first,” you say, one hand reaching for lube while the other snakes its way to his hole. You encounter surprising slickness, but he’s nowhere as warmed up as you get him.

“S’okay, I took care of it,” he mumbles, both hands coming up to grip the headboard above your head. Slicking lube on the dildo, you move to finger him enough to ease your way in.

“Just a little more…”

“I’m fine.”

The curt retort snaps your face to the helmet, now more of a cowled chin and shining halo of beskar above your head. There’s something bubbling uncomfortably under the surface, something you feel the need to drag out by the scruff of the neck, but it’s Din. You never talk feelings with Din. Frankly, you barely talk at all during, or after, any of your nights together.

“Sorry,” he breathes, forcing relaxation. “I’m ready. Please.”

Your eyes linger for a moment longer, then you circle the base of your cock in waiting.

He descends slowly, gritted breaths and sharp blasts of air from his nose echoing above you. You watch the strain in his thighs as he sinks and sinks, his cock only half-hard against his stomach. Leaving a hand on one hip, you stroke soothing paths up and down his lower back, watching for discomfort. Instead he’s marble around you, coiled, body not releasing as usual. Normally when you fuck him he dissolves, rolling his hips back onto you and choking out praises of how good you feel.

None of that comes. He meets the base of your cock and immediately slides back up at an almost punishing pace. He can’t be that acclimated yet, and his pained hisses and grunts only make that more apparent. 

“Din, slow down,” you request, hands firmer on his hips to try and even his pace. If he heard you he says nothing, now slamming his hips down on your cock. “Din,” you beseech again, nails starting to dig in. His grunts grow to growls, something from the heat of battle, your headboard creaking from his crushing grip. 

Clarity overtakes you, the shudder of his stomach and forceful downstrokes only getting more intense. There wasn’t pleasure in this. Something is eating up Din inside and he’s trying to fuck it out of himself. And he’s using you to do that.

“Din Djarin, STOP.”

The echo of your voice, strong and steely, finally brings Din to a stop with your cock buried deep in his ass. His chest heaves in front of you, limbs quivering from the exertion, but he’s as still as he can be. Gripping his chestplate, you push him back enough to look him in the visor, your anger righteously reflected back.

“You don’t punish yourself with my cock,” you order, teeth clenched and seething. “Do you think so little of me, that I’d just let you rip yourself to shreds without a word?” 

Din freezes, but this time you know it’s shame. If you were in a clearer headspace you might have tried reassurance, or asked him to lay beside you and talk about what’s destroying him, but you’re just too upset. 

“Is that all you come to me for?” you spit out, knuckles aching from gripping his armor. He’s silent for long enough that you consider throwing him out before he speaks.

“Something happened. And I just want to…be empty. To not think about it every moment.” He leans forward and your visage warps as he presses his forehead to the crown of your head. The anger thrums but starts to ebb as he folds around you. “I didn’t know where else to go. You’ve always taken care of me. More than I deserve.”

The sadness in his voice is palpable, and even with your mouth still sour from his deception you find the compassion to wrap your arms around his middle. The chestplate presses into your cheek, a metronome for Din’s slowing breaths. 

“If you have any care in your heart for me, don’t ever do that again,” you grit out. Din’s breath catches. 

“I care for you,” he says, and a door in your heart you never realized was cracked widens for Din’s admission. 

“I care for you too, you karking asshole, which is why I want you to say something instead of trying to hate fuck your feelings out.”

Din’s chest begins to shake again, but you’re sure it’s laughter this time. You manage a giggle of your own, letting him lean back and look at you again. The motion shifts your cock in him, and his sharp sigh arches your brow.

“If you wanted to forget, you could have just told me,” you say, rolling your hips sensuously up into his clenching hole. Din’s head drops back, grip tightening on the headboard again as you grind into him.

“Please,” he begs, so soft and vulnerable you can’t help but give him what he needs. 

Slowly you press up into him, guiding his hips to rock on your cock. You love the feel of his ass in your hands, well muscled and perfect for grabbing, manhandling him just enough to show he can let go. He follows your direction reluctantly at first, but as you plant your feet and start thrusting with more range he loosens. You can feel it in his arms, holding on to the headboard for dear life, and the building rhythm of his hips meeting yours. For a man whose life is violence, you never want to bring that into your sessions. But a light swat on one asscheek pulls the most delicious moan from deep in his chest.

“Fuck,” he groans, bearing down on you even more. Tilting your hips, you arch his back enough that you’re sure to hit his prostate on the next thrust. 

“Maker!���

There it is.

“Close your eyes,” you whisper. Waiting a moment, you zero in on that perfect spot inside him and hit it with every one of your thrusts. “Do you feel that? Feel how good I’m fucking you?”

“Yes, fuck,” Din curses, one hand flitting down to squeeze the base of his cock. He’s at full attention now, head bobbing against your stomach. You swell with pride that he’s having to stave off his orgasm so quickly, but you’ll be the one to make those decisions now. 

“All I want you to think about is how good you feel,” you purr, tugging his hand away and replacing it with your own. You long for his skin against yours, so you pull up your shirt to skim the head of his cock against your soft belly. He chokes, stuttering away but he’s trapped between your hand and thighs.

“Wait, Maker, I’ll cum if you…” he garbles, but his body keeps meeting your grinds. You shush him gently, stroking from base to tip and smearing precum over the head. 

“You will, but only when I let you. You know I’ll make it good for you, make nothing but this pleasure you’re feeling fill that head of yours.” His rapid nod almost knocks you in the head with the beskar, but he manages to tuck into your neck instead. The helmet is a shocking cool against your skin, but the act of burrowing into you must be rewarded. Bringing your arms around him, you press along the length of his body, trapping his cock between.

“I’m gonna pound into this tight ass until you cum all over us. You like that?” The wail Din lets out shoots heat to your cunt, wishing more than anything that you’d opted for a toy that gave you a little stimulation too. Instead you hammer fast and hard, barely pulling out. Your hips and thighs burn with exertion at his bulk on top of you, but he’s frantically bouncing back and rutting his cock into the wet mess your bodies make. 

“Don’t stop,” he gasps, and you’re not sure if it’s the vocoder but you think his voice sounds watery. “Please, cyar’ika, don’t stop.”

Cupping the back of his neck, damp with sweat, you whisper, “I’ve got you.”

With a handful of final pumps you’re coated in his cum, sliding around your belly as he seizes over and over. Pressing deep, you hold strong against his shuddering body as he finishes. Each weakening thrust draws him down on you, heavier and loose-limbed. 

The armor makes it hard to find the soft spots, so you take to kneading the back of his neck and palming his spine. Before his last aftershock, you urge him higher on his knees so you can slip your cock out - slowly, so as not to shock his jellying body. Easing him down, you hold his head in the crook of your neck and settle him on your lap. His hands slide down from the headboard to your shoulders. 

Then you hear it. A tiny sniff, then another. You can’t pretend you didn’t notice them so close to your ear. So you gather the broad man in your arms and hold him. His hands don’t know where to rest, finally winding loosely around your lower back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you tell him again, and the sniffing starts to recede. His body, however, slumps against yours, and it takes all of your strength not to start giggling.

You fucked the Mandalorian right to sleep. Bravo to you.

When Din finally stirs, a deep rumble in his throat, it’s been almost an hour. Your toes are half numb and you’re dying to shift into any other position, but much like a lothcat falling asleep on your lap, you couldn’t bear to move Din. Especially when he started snoring, one of the most endearing and hilarious sounds you’d ever heard him make. 

In the time he slept you wondered what happened. What terrible thing hollowed him out and haunts him. Something keeps him up at night, if the depth of his sleep is any indication. Recent, possibly. Traumatic.

Your breath caught in your throat. If something happened to Grogu you know he would have told you. You ask after him all the time, teasing that you’ll be his Auntie (Din always says he has plenty of them across the galaxy). 

Had you seen the Razor Crest fly up? Where was that old bird anyway?

What happened in the time since Din last saw you?

The cycle of possibilities always ends the same. Maybe he cares for you in some way, but not enough for you to ask. No matter how much you want to.

A shift on your lap alerts you to Din waking, kneading his shoulders and neck lightly to alert him to your presence. He’s never slept with you before, but it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that he’s quick to draw at unexpected circumstances. Of which this one definitely is.

“What…” Din croaks, and if not for the helmet you would have offered him water. 

“It’s okay, you’re on my ship. You’re okay.” 

It takes Din another minute to realize what’s happened. Him, half naked on your lap with your strap pressing against his ass. You, covered in drying cum beneath him. In a flash he’s swinging his leg off your lap, attempting to stand but obviously they’ve gone as numb as yours because he stumbles and crashes out of sight. 

“Oh kriff, are you…?” you start to ask, but as quick as he’s out of sight he pops back up again, tugging up his pants and tucking himself away.

“Sorry, that was…I didn’t mean to…do that.” 

All of the heaviness and anger and lust fizzles away to laughter as you try to suppress the ridiculousness of the moment. After a moment of indigent head tilting Din’s shoulder also shake, chuckles fuzzing out of the vocoder. 

“Oh Maker, what an understatement that is,” you sigh, wiping your stomach with the edge of your bedsheets. Din visibly cringes, hands on his hips.

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes, but you wave it off.

“I’ve had much worse, believe me,” you shoot back. Clean enough, you sit on the edge of the bed and look up at the inscrutable man. 

“Want to talk about it?”

Din’s stance shifts, helmet tipping down for a moment before coming back to your face.

“...Not yet.”

You hum and nod. “Well, you know how to find me if you do.”

Din nods. “Thank you.”

As he picks up his effects you shimmy off the harness at the foot of the bed, mentally ticking through the steps to clean everything. Din watches you set it down, stilling until your eyes come back to him.

“It gives you pleasure as well?” he asks, which raises one of your eyebrows.

“I mean, about as much as rhythmically hitting your hips against someone can do.” His posture changes into something hard to decipher, so you continue. “I’ve got a few that do more for me, but it depends on the person I’m with. Comfort, boundaries. As you’re well aware.” You gesture to the armor, his chin tucking down to look at it.

“So you’ve never cum with me?” he asks, and a sudden feverish heat blooms under your skin. Din has a sex appeal you appreciate, but have never acted on beyond what he’s asked for. Now, something’s changed so dizzyingly fast you’re scrambling.

“Well, you’re pretty spent after our sessions. And you leave quickly. I don’t ask for more than you can give.”

Din takes a step towards you, putting his belt and cloak back down.

“What do you ask of other people you fuck?”

Your heart hammers in your chest. How can he turn the tables so quickly and spectacularly? Trying to gain the upper hand, you pull a confident face on and speak as breezily as possible.

“Most can’t get it up twice after I fuck them within an inch of their life, so fingers, tongues, toys, any and all of the above are excellent ways to repay the favor.”

He’s even closer now, and the facade is barely holding up. It’s like the vulnerability he showed you can’t possibly be returned.

“You’ve never asked me,” he says, and you can’t believe there’s a note of regret in his voice. The bed hits the back of your legs, and you steady your voice even though those words make your pussy throb.

“I didn’t think it was allowed.” Your voice drops low as Din steps into your space. 

“Difficult, but not forbidden.” Din’s hands come to your shoulders. “Sit down, please.”

Your knees fold so fast you bounce on the bed, looking up at him. He joins you on one knee, hands coming to rest on your thighs.

“I broke my Creed. I would do it again, for the exact same reason, but now that makes me an apostate.” His hands come to the helmet, thumbs tucking underneath the lip.

“Din, what happened?”

He pauses, and you swear you can feel his gaze through that smoky visor. 

“Close your eyes.”

Darkness surrounds you, then a hiss and a thunk. 

Then the voice of a man you care for, unfiltered and bare.

“I’m not ready for anyone to see my face. But I want this, with you. If you can forgive me.”

You could be dreaming still. It would make just as much sense.

“I forgive you, Din. But just this once,” you sneak in at the end just to hear how melodic his laugh sounds. Then his hand splays over your stomach and urges you to lie back.

“I hope you don’t mind teaching me this. I don’t have much experience,” he says, fire licking through your body as he tugs your leggings and underwear off.

“Don’t worry, you’re a quick learner,” you say breathily.

And when he finally kisses you, sweet with your musk on his tongue and your orgasm dripping from his fingers, you teach him how to do that as well.

END

"I need some distraction Oh a beautiful release Memories seep from my veins Let me be empty Oh and weightless and maybe I'll find some peace tonight.

Sarah McLachlan, Angel (yeah I know I used the sad dog song)

[queenofthepunks]

Sorta my first fanfic on this blog, as always I am NOT good at writing so BARE WITH ME!😭😭😭

Spot belongs to @wendigoruble so I hope you enjoy☺️❤️❤️❤️

TW⚠️: short detail on blood and violence

(Fluff/SFW and a tad bit of suggestive themes this will have mentions of Pup play but in a more lighthearted way)

The Bimbo and her Pup: Spot🐾🩵/ Peachy💋🩷

"Spot! catch that dirty broad! Tear that bitch apart!" Peachy shouted as she and the nude Dog Man stood In front of the reagent who was unfortunately about to met her demise. The very second Peachy let go of his leash he immediately charged towards the reagent, who had a look of fear and dread, and before she could run away to the shutter doors... it was too late, Spot immediately pounced on the girl using his knees to restrain her from escaping or harming him. He had her completely at his mercy like predator catching its prey.

his mask opened wide to where you could somewhat see his menacing smile as he breathly murmerd the words "Play" over and over again.

"No... p-please, NOO-" and before the reagent could even cry for help, Spots mask snapped shut on the reagents, his razor-sharp teeth digging into her whole face and cranium before aggressively wriggle his head with the reagents face locked into his mask like she was his new chew toy.

After she was now unconscious from the injury, extremely bloody and piereced with teeth marks, that was when he gnashed his teeth into her neck the long canines digging deep DEEP into her jugular. Peachy giggled mischievously as she heard everything that was going on a bit of relief that she could take a break from using Rabbia for a moment. She walked up to him as he finished mangling the reagent to death beaming sweetly yet keeping that mischievous smile on her face, showing off those shiny golden grills that fit hideously with her crooked and busted teeth.

"Mmmm, looks like you just turned that worthless Plaything into minced meat!" Peachy remarked before placing her hand on his head to pet him."and for that how about I give you a treat eh?"

Spots ears perked up just from hearing the word "treat" he began to move his hips to make his tail wag as he looked up at her with adoration in his eyes. "Treat!? Treeeeat!!! I'm gonna get a treaaaat!!!" Spot exclaimed with excitement before letting out happy panting swaying his hips a little faster to make his tail swing more swiftly.

Peachy giggled from his excitement that he wouldn't oblige to his reward. "Well, lead me to your treats, and I'll give em to ya since you seem to always misplace them." She said, letting out another giggle.

Spot trotted happily as he let out happy pants going "Treaaat Treaaat I'm gonna get me a good treat! Babydoll is gonna get me a treat!"

as he led her to her room a very pink bedroom with cracked and mildewed walls and different trinkets and extra clothes on the hot pink carpet that had small splatterd drops of blood.

(Imagine this but in typical outlast fashion, rundown, bloody, and extremely messy and a little low budget aswell)

After they've entered Peachy's sleeping quarters She began to walk ahead of Spot and trying to make her way towards her cracked open vanity mirror but as she walked towards it she immediately bumped into a vase with a dead palm tree on it.

"Ah... Owie!" Peachy murmured to herself while dusting herself off. "Don't think my mirror is ove- AHHH!" Peachy bumped into a pink armchair, almost causing her to tumble down. She then began to get frustrated from her clumsiness causing her to grumble to her self which could lead to her having a tantrum. "GOD DAMN IT why can't shit stay in its place I swear these asshol-"Before she could say anything, she felt Spot nuzzle the back of her leg with his mask from him, having service dog mode cranked up to 100 to make sure his human who is struggling with her visual imparement is safe.

"Careful Babydoll..." Spot said softly. "Don't like seeing you hurt yourself..."

Peachy nearly let out a squeak of warmth and affection just from her "canine" companion's loyal and protective nature. though she has managed fine on her own for years from her blindness and even her clumsiness it was quite nice to have someone look out for her since no one has ever done that for her even before being brought to the Sinyala Facility.

"Mmmmm, Puppy~...." Peachy cooed softly as she reached out to run her hand over his head. "I wouldn't have done it without ya..." Before getting sidetracked from being a little sappy, she snapped her fingers in response remembering what her original task was supposed to be.

"Oooohhhh that's right! We gotta get you a treat for being my good boy dont we?" Peachy exclaimed happily. "Just lead me to them and I'll give you one." Without hesitation, Spot began to nudge her at a quick pace due to yearning for the taste of those snickerdoodle cookies while also being careful not to trip her. After coming to a full stop he crouched infront of her having his prosthetics sit in besides both of her feet.

"Now tell me, where did you put your treats?" She asked him tilting her head to the side in a perky manner her glossy white eyes somewhat making eye contact with him."It's in the drawer of your vanity mirror Babydoll!" Spot beamed as he swished his hips around to make his tail wag feeling excited for his long awaited reward. "Do I have permission to get treats!? Do i? Do i?"

Peachy giggled once more from his excitement, making feeling of his swinging hips brighten up her mood even more. "Why yes, you do my Pup, go right ahead!" She said happily. "And remember to put them on this very hand! Got it? bark for me if you do."

Spot obediently let out a bark in response expressing that he fully understood her before he went back to happily panting."That's my good boy!" Peachy cooed while giving him a couple pats. "Now go ahead and bring em to me!"

"I'm your good boy I am your good boyyy!" Spot repeated in a playful tone while he went over towards the vanity drawer to get his treats though for a moment he did struggle to open it due to his lack of arms. So to compromise he used his mask to grip on to the knob of the small white drawer before giving it a slight tug and there in the draw lied his very own personal bag of snickerdoodle cookies. After he grabbed the bag of cookies from the inside of the drawer with his mask with a whole lot of effort he brought the bag over to Peachy obediently placing it in the open palm of her hand.

"There we goooo!" Peachy cooed. "Now move closer so I can have your leash..." without hesitation, Spot moved closer to her so she could grab ahold of leash guiding him in the middle of the room. As he got back on all fours with the help of his prosthetics that support his arms waiting for what tricks she's going to have him do, which is one of his favorite activities to do with her (and many of the other PA'S that work with him)

"Are you ready to do some tricks for me puppy?" Peachy asked in a lively tone as she had one hand on her hip and the other gripping the leash. Spot beamed with delight as he let out some happy pants from hearing the word "trick"

"Ohoho yes yes yes yes!" Spot exclaimed with excitement before he bend his upper half downwards with his butt in the air. "I wanna play I really really wanna play! Anything with the Babydoll!"

"Mmmm getting all giddy for your treats eh?" She remarked before letting out an amused chuckled. "Then how about we get started on your trick training... now sit..." she commanded her voice stooped to a more calm yet slighty stern tone. As Spot heard the seriousness in her voice he did what he was told and obliged to her command. placed his butt on the carpet he then lightly tapped her leg with the rod of his prosthetic expressing that he is sitting.

"Gooood... now remove the arms... and then lie down and roll over..." she said as she placed her foot outwards showing her stance of dominance. "And make sure to graze that smooth skin of yours on my pretty little pumps..." she was most definitely having fun with this.

Once again he obliged and plopped himself down on the carpet after he removed his prosthetics leaving his bandaged nubbed arms to be exposed, and with his whole body he rolled over going from his stomach and onto his back while he completely aimed for Peachy's foot, that's when he began to rub his back on the tip of her heel with that a long waited itch to be relieved which made him let out a few satisfied breaths. "That's my buddy..." Peachy cooed in a sweet tone her heart warmed at the feeling of Spots back nuzzling her foot. "Now sit back up..."

He obliged and sat back down on his knees, suddenly letting out some more breaths as Peachy got closer to him with that smirk on her face.Peachy than grabbed the cookie from the bag but kept it behind her back not wanting to give it to him yet for having one last request. "Now... open wide!" She said in a melodic tone.

He then opened the mouth of his mask open revealing his face on the inside which you could see his shit eating grin from the thrill of awaiting for his reward. As soon as Peachy grazed her hand over his opened mask she held the cookie up and into the inside of his mask to feed him the cookie which he immediately snatched the cookie into his mouth.

"Ahhhhh that's my good booooy!!!" Peachy exclaimed happily while letting out her signature squeak before running her fingers through his locks of black hair before her pets began to slow due to slight exhaustion.

She began to feel a bit tired after an extremely long day of being in trial, though she took alot of enjoyment of hearing Spot tear the reagents apart and her dealing with them, still didn't change the fact that the trials were pretty exhausting, her and the other PA'S could never get a break but at least this is her opportunity to spend it with her lovely companion who helped her alot during the trial.

She let out a long yawn as she stood back up placing her hands on Spots shoulders to steady herself. "Phew... this Babydoll is feeling very sleepy... how about we go and rest our heads, eh? It's been a pretty long day dealing with those shitbags who wanna destroy my product... come on, Puppy, let's go lie down..." she said before making her way towards the bed with her shoulders completely slumped.

Spot followed right behind her as he squated behind her to make sure she didn't bump into anything else, carefully leading her to the bed. As soon as she slumped down on the bed, she kicked her pumps off and scooted backwards onto the mattress laying down on the soft and lumpy pink blankets, however she realized that she didn't feel Spot coming onto the bed with her turns out he was laying down on the floor next to the bed. "Mmm?" Peachy hummed with confusion before she patted the bed to find were he was laying until she spoke up. "Spot? Are ya up here?" She tilted her head in confusion while rasing an eyebrow.

"I'm down here Babydoll." Spot replied. "On the floor were... I'm supposed to be." Peachy nearly felt her heart strings being pulled as he heard the Vulnerability in his voice. "Wha- Mmmm Puppy you don't need to lay on the ground you know that right? Yous can lay up here with me!"

Spot felt himself tense up from hearing her suggestion, something he'd NEVER thought to hear from someone he works for, always thinking who would want to lay with some constantly naked dog man constantly injected with medicine that constantly boosts his arousal to the point where it's painful alot of fearful thoughts began to run his mind "what if I hurt her? What if I make one wrong move and she will push me away! No... no no no I'm still a good dog, I'm still her good boy right?" He began to tense up even more from the thought, his breathing suddenly became labored out of worry.

"Y-you want me... to lay up there...w-with you?" Spot asked in a shakey voice, barely able to keep up with his breathing as his whole body tensed up even more. Peachy heard his labored breathing, which made her catch up on his nervous body language. "Yeah, yeah I do! Puppyyyy come lay up here with me I ain't gonna bite ya know?"

Though still very hesitant he got up off the floor slowly and steadily up the bed where he sees her sitting there with a soft smile on her face though being a very aggressive, violent, and a raging psychopath these were one of the many times she acted so sweet to someone and in a more genuine way. She moved her finger in a "come here" motion as she a waited for him to lay next to her. "Come on! I know ya wanna snuggle up with me! I know ya really really wanna!"

And after a moment of hesitation and doubt he then curled up over to her putting his upper half right ontop off her lap. She let out a content chuckle as she placed her arm around him pulling him closer, she then placed her pacifier in her mouth now fully being in a peaceful presence of comfort and security. "Mmmm, there ya go, now yous all nice and cozy... wasn't so bad, was it?"

Spot began to feel a sense of relief and reassurance from the feeling of her arm wrapped around him, the feeling of her small hand running over his back sent more tingles down his spine, though he was still a bit self-conscious for being close to her like this it was all very... new? He then turned onto his back to expose his stomach to her, making her giggle from the feeling of him cuddling up to her which was a good sign that he was starting to feel more comfortable around her.

"Hehe, you are just so damn cuddly, aren't ya? Even though you maul these playthings for a living..." she purred even though she still had a hint of playfulness in her tone. She placed her hands on his stomach and rubbed it playfully, causing him to squirm under her touch while playfully waving his nubs in the air and letting out some happy "grumbles"

"Awwww you are just so god damn cuddly even, even though you maul these worthless playthings for a living!" Peachy cooed as she patted continued to pat his stomach, his skin being very smooth to the touch. "Eh, but I could give to shits less, cause your always so good to me... so obedient, so... loyal..."

Spot hurdled even closer to her, wanting to be as close as possible, just hear some more of her praise he could almost burst into tears just by hearing the sweet words from her, he was never praised like this before by anyone for once he felt like he was getting some real comfort from an owner, and not just being used for someone else's sexual desires.

whimpered softly almost as he was expressing so more praise as if he was longing to hear more words of love and consolation. "I'm a good dog... right?" He spoke up softly giving her those puppy eyes, though it was a bit hard to see considering it's behind his mask.

Peachy laughed softly from his question finding it so wholesome that almost out of anyone he could seek comfort for, it was her she smiled softly before she leaned down as her tiny crooked nose made contact with the nose on his mask, her hand never stopped grazing his stomach before speaking

"Yeah... Yeah you are..."

[golvio]

As somebody who shaves in an “old-fashioned” way that’s come to be coded as “masculine” in recent decades, it’s got me thinking about about how Ganon was portrayed in TotK and how Nintendo could’ve used that to characterize him more coherently.

A lot of people tend to draw Ganondorf with body hair because bearishness is kind of the “in” thing for more masculine and solidly built characters. However, in his actual key art in TotK along with his ingame model, not only are his hair and beard meticulously trimmed and styled, but he also has absolutely no body hair anywhere else on his body, which means his grooming routine likely involves some pretty intensive shaving/waxing.

Like, shaving is EXTREMELY time-consuming. Shaving the old-school, “masculine” way with a safety razor or an outright barbershop razor blade is even more time-consuming. You have to wash the area clean first. You have to mix and keep mixing the lather to keep applying it to prevent the razor from getting caught on your skin and making microabrasions. You have to use the safety razor very slowly and carefully to make sure you don’t nick yourself, then seal any nicks that do happen immediately with a styptic pen. After you’re done, you still have to do extra steps to make sure your skin doesn’t get those red rashy bumps from microabrasions or trapped ingrown hairs that can get infected, such as putting on aloe gel, rubbing your skin with a wet alum block and rinsing it off after a few minutes so it doesn’t leave chalky residue behind, then applying moisturizer and waiting for it to absorb.

It points to Ganon having an extremely meticulous, regimented, and time-consuming grooming routine, having to give himself a full shave on his arms, legs, and chest every few days or so on top of daily maintenance of his facial hair. It makes sense to me, given that the Extremely Cleanshaven look to be covered up with cooling head coverings, wigs and false beards was something of a beauty standard among upper class men and their attendants in Ancient Egypt. Ganondorf’s desire to project a composed, “kingly” aura would of course extend to meeting certain standards regarding his own appearance. Being so “put together” is also a big blinking social signal that he’s A Man Of Status, as he’d actually have the time/money and resources/assistance to regularly perform such strict personal grooming rituals.

But it also makes me wonder how he’d regard men who were less meticulous about grooming and hair care. Would he find hairiness a sign of slovenliness or poor upbringing? Would he be kinda grossed out the first time he went to Hyrule and saw a hairy leg or back hair on an older man? Would he get snooty about the more lax standards of grooming for men in postindustrial Western patriarchal societies in amusing/less amusing and more classist ways?

It also makes his throwing away his sense of self at the end of TotK even sadder. Like, when a character who was formerly so concerned with appearing well-groomed and put together suddenly stops their routine and goes to seed, you know something’s gone horribly wrong. The poor guy’s stuck with an eternal neckbeard and messy, molting feathers, and that would’ve driven him nuts if he still had his brain! Who’s going to brush his hair and bathe him? Who’s going to trim his horns and keep his scales moisturized and polished so he doesn’t get all flaky and itchy? Who’s going to treat and cover up all those unsightly, sensitive looking blemishes? The poor thing! 😭

But, also, it makes certain details about his beast form more interesting in retrospect—how he puts more care into his appearance the more connected to his humanity he is. His at least wearing a cape and a suit of armor along with some accessories in ALttP, only to lose his clothing as he lost touch with himself. His resurrection in Oracles being his mother dressing him up in an outfit he would’ve worn if his soul and mind were intact by his mothers as a dying act of love. His wearing a similar outfit when Yuga resurrected him, only for that to feel like Yuga halfheartedly dressing him up like a doll as a matter of precedent/personal aesthetic, which Ganon has no way to appreciate or consent to.

His blobby, amorphous appearance in BotW, which he tried to move away from by attempting to restore his human form and reconstruct impressions of his old signature jewelry with so much time and effort, only for the result to come out shoddy and incomplete due to Zelda and Link’s interference, and then his abandoning it entirely to become a naked beast at the very end when he was backed into a corner. And then, in TotK, his preoccupation with “looking the part” of king of the world who got to defeat his destined opponent even though he could’ve just slaughtered Link right there when they first met.

Just…you could do something with that. There’s so much you could do with that, both to reinvent the man for the soft reboot and recontextualize his prior appearances with a new personal detail that can act as a barometer for his overall mental health as he changes, rearranges, dies and resurrects! But then they just…didn’t? They just said a line in an interview and didn’t even put it in the game? 🤦

[feralchaton]

The rebellious teen's scalding anger subsided into the grief and sorrow it always had been. I wrap my arms around myself, squeezing and holding tightly.

Loneliness and love fueled hidden under razor-sharpened wit with over-heightened, 'too much' sensitive sense of others echoing within some vacant void towards myself. It was safer that way.

Taken for granted, portrayed as prey and predator. Treated as no'thing' to worry about, care for, speak up for or converse with while being some'thing' to seek out, conquer, cut down, compete with and destroy.

It was and still is kindness and dutiful diligence, not naiveté and ignorance.

Wanted to be held with love, no longer discarded with scorned fear.

Supported, not chastised.

Feeling through, not numbing against.

Righteous anger resembles lava.

Pain and scars are there to remind as the details grow into remembered but fuzzy. Hands, names, faces, and nightmares fading altogether. Cooled into glass like obsidian. Incredibly, many things going bump in the night quiet or disappear when you look directly at them.

My loves wrap their arms around me and hold on loosely, but don't let go. After running away or being left behind for so long; I found my way and know I am home and it is right on time.

[themurphyzone]

Son of Darkwing AU: Just Like You Epilogue

As promised, here’s the epilogue. 

Warning for mentions of alcoholism, implied substance abuse, small amount of profanity. Rating of this fic has been bumped to a T. 

AO3 Link

Trash littered the floor of his old apartment, flies buzzing around moldy pizza crusts and slimy, rotten apple cores. The stench of rot reeked through the air. 

The pungent smell had long driven out all the other renters in the complex, except for that stubborn, ancient geezer of a mutt on the second floor who always watched that irritating Pelican’s Island farce of a show with the sound turned all the way up. He claimed to be hard of hearing. 

But that old fart just enjoyed tormenting him through the paper-thin walls.  

Perhaps he oughta visit tomorrow. Have a little friendly chat about being a good neighbor and pour him a cold one, just like old times. 

He’ll even slip a razor blade into the can. Why not? He was in a giving mood. The mutt deserved a special treat. 

A cockroach scuttled by his foot, and he crushed it with his heel. Its guts spilled out of its disgusting little body, its legs and antennae detaching as he wiped his heel along the stained carpet. 

His landlord would’ve put that infamous tightwad Scrooge McSuck to shame with his cheapness. Never bothered paying for pest control service. 

Now, how should he repay the landlord for renting such wonderful accommodations to the poor, down-on-their-luck beggars and hobos of society? 

He wasn’t going to repeat his plan for the mutt. That sort of revenge was boring. Devoid of any creativity whatsoever. 

No, the punishment should fit the crime. Hit ‘em right where it hurts most. 

The landlord couldn’t bear to part with his money, now could he? Kept it all locked away in a safe beside his desk and refused to entrust it to a bank. Even had the combination password written on a sticky note for convenience and never bothered to memorize it. 

Would be a crying shame if someone were to steal all that precious loot. 

Hell, he’d let the landlord watch too. Let him be the audience to his first crime after his grand comeback. 

And to convey his eternal gratitude, he’d give him the honor of being the first victim of his chainsaw. 

The hum of rusty metal slicing into every obstacle in its path was music to his ears. 

He obliterated the old, battered couch. Stuffing and fabric scattered everywhere as he thrust the deadly, whirring blade deep into the frame. The enormous cut was jagged and messy, just the way he liked it. 

Then he turned to the coffee table. He picked up the remote and hurled it into the TV. The glass splintered with a loud crack, a gorgeous spiderweb forming on the screen. 

He cleaved the coffee table in half, hacking away at the furniture until it was nothing more than useless scraps of firewood. 

His chainsaw wreaked destruction upon everything it touched. It didn’t matter what he tore through. Wood, paper, glass, the foundation of the apartment itself. 

Nothing mattered except for beautiful, destructive chaos.

To hell with the world. It didn’t give a damn about him, didn’t give him the adoration and accolades and admiration he deserved while he was in his prime. The shelf he’d reserved for his trophies was barren and filled with nothing but dust and cobwebs. 

Though the memories were hazy, he remembered owning several golden, shining trophies at some point in his life. 

They were gone now, most likely stolen by some thief looking to make a quick buck. 

He sold the trophies himself. Cashed them in at a sketchy pawn shop in one of the roughest neighborhoods of St. Canard. Probably got less than their actual worth, but alcohol was alcohol. 

He swung his chainsaw at the empty shelf, taking out the plaster and drywall behind it as well. Half of the shelf flew into a wilted, dying potted plant, knocking it down and spilling topsoil and leaves everywhere. 

Despite this, a single leaf remained green, clinging stubbornly to life.

A useless effort. 

The chainsaw sliced the leaf to an insignificant green pulp. 

He laughed at its demise. Why bother trying to live if the rest of the plant was rotting away? 

Why should he give a crap about anything when all the world had ever done was turn their back on him? He’d wasted so much of his life trying to entertain a fickle audience who would never give him what he wanted. 

He’d pushed his body to its limits by performing all his stunts, broke his bones and bruised himself a million times over to make it look authentic, and for what? 

To be forgotten as soon as the executives found a new cash cow show to mass produce toys for?  

To never land any other major role in a TV show or movie, not even as a typecast, because they thought he’d ruin the show before it ever took off? 

Then there was the greatest offense of all, to never be invited to reprise his role in what would’ve been the greatest comeback in the entire entertainment industry, snubbed by his fans who claimed to worship the ground he tread upon and that prissy wannabe director who had no respect for the franchise. 

And there was the worst of the lot…an ungrateful, selfish duck he’d raised from an egg and once called son. 

He’d grown into a mockery of Darkwing Duck’s legacy, a pale imitator of the original. A cunning thief who’d stolen his identity, his life, and his fans. 

He bellowed in rage, ripping the phone and answering machine from its wires and hurling them out the broken window. The phone broke through the fragile glass and tumbled three stories to the ground. But the answering machine laid in shambles, a shrill beep and distorted, mechanized voice emitting from its speakers. 

“You have ninety-one missed messages. If you’d like to hear these messages-”

He slammed his fist against the machine. But instead of shutting off, a voice, one so insultingly timid and meek, filtered through. 

“Hi, Dad. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, and again, I’m really sorry I couldn’t convince Boorswan to at least give you a cameo appearance…but I was kinda hoping we could catch up? It’s been a while since we did something togeth-” 

His chainsaw cut through the machine, silencing it forever. The whirring blade lodged into the floor beneath the destroyed nuts and bolts. He yanked on the handle, but the chainsaw wouldn’t budge. 

Cursing, he shut the chainsaw off and kicked it in frustration. 

All that buzzing had given him a headache. 

He needed a damn drink. The brand didn’t matter. It just needed to be strong, bitter, and kill the migraine that pounded away at his skull. 

A sharp pain traveled up his spine as he stumbled to the kitchen. He was forced to rely on the wall to keep his balance, and he loathed it with every fiber of his being. 

Dirty dishes filled the sink and spilled onto the counter. He’d never gotten around to tying up the trash bags and taking them to the dumpster either. While the odor might’ve been off-putting to anyone else, it failed to compare to the Duckburg sewer he’d escaped through. 

He rummaged through the refrigerator until he found a can of beer that had gotten wedged in the back. His sleeve was covered in old food stains as he pulled his arm out, but he didn’t care. 

There was a voice somewhere in the back of his mind, some quack doctor straight out of med school warning him not to drink while on his painkiller prescription, listing out all the horrible side effects, and how that could affect him in the long run. 

That doc could kick rocks for all he cared. 

He popped a handful of painkillers into his mouth and guzzled down the beer. He’d survived things that would’ve killed other ducks a million times over. He wasn’t about to drop dead from this. 

If he wanted to go out, he’d do it in a blaze of glory. He refused to die as some nameless nobody. 

He crushed the empty can and tossed it aside. 

It was the last one he had. Nothing else except the painkillers had any value attached to them. He shoved the bottle into his pocket, figuring it was best to keep it for his personal use. 

The only other items he found that would be remotely useful were several kitchen knives, scattered haphazardly through several drawers. Small enough to conceal within his clothing, and lethal enough when he was ready to slash and stab and hack away at anybody who dared cross him. 

He slipped the smaller knives into the inside pockets of his jacket. Then he tested out the largest blade in his hands. 

It had a long, serrated edge, and its jagged shape would increase the risk of his enemies hurting themselves if they tried to knock it out of his hand. 

If he wanted to be flashy and draw everyone’s attention to himself, then his chainsaw was the perfect tool to induce terror and create mass chaos. 

But the daggers were more personal, a method to convey his hatred and deliver vengeance to everyone who wronged him. Yet a simple stab wound wouldn’t even make them feel a fraction of the pain they’d put him through. 

He’d have to build up a weapon collection, but for now, this would do. 

He dragged the knife along the table, the counter, the wall, and across any solid object in reach as he left the kitchen, leaving behind a horrid, shrill screech and thin white scars along every obstacle in his path. 

There was only one place left to visit before he burned down this dump for good. 

He had some cash stuffed somewhere in his bedroom. It wasn’t McSuck’s Money Bin, nor did he plan to pay for his fix at the next mom and pop convenience store he passed, but having a little greenery was better than nothing. 

He plunged his dagger into the underside of his mattress, lifting it into the air. There was a small collection of torn, crumpled bills and dull pennies. In this economy, the paltry amount wouldn’t cover the cost of a single stick of gum. 

But it would be a useful lure. Money was a powerful motivator for any poor, desperate sap. 

He snatched up the cash and shoved it into his pocket, letting the mattress slam against the frame. But the dagger remained wedged inside, forcing him to brace his foot against the side of the bed as he yanked the stubborn blade out. 

Finally, the knife yielded to his demands and came out of the mattress. He cursed and lost his balance, tumbling onto his back. His elbow smacked against the leg of his bedside table.  

The booze and painkillers hadn’t kicked in yet, so it still felt like some asshole set his arm ablaze. 

A picture frame that was perched precariously on the edge wobbled before falling onto his kneecap, as if he hadn’t dealt with enough insults to his injuries. He snatched up the frame with the intent of hurling it out the window, but a splash of color caught his eye before he could follow through. 

Within the cracked glass, there was an old drawing of-

The frame slipped out of his hands and fell to the ground. A wave of dizziness overtook him, one that he couldn’t quite chalk up to the alcohol in his system. 

He was hunched over the drawing, his hands and knees on the floor like a pathetic beggar, the heroic gaze of a duck clad in purple boring through him. 

A forgotten memory resurfaced from a decade long past. He’d been at the peak of his career then, the brightest star in the night sky, one that was impossible to miss. 

He saw a small, timid duckling with an awkward bill that was too large for his face. Who looked up to him with adoring, shining eyes, like he’d created the entire world from scratch. 

A voice, tiny yet filled with powerful determination, proclaiming his life’s dream.   

“When I’m bigger, I’m gonna be a hero just like you!”

The duckling became an adult. Young, bright-eyed, and hopelessly naive to the true nature of his chosen career path.  

“We’ve had our arguments. I…I know I said things I regret. But I just want you to know, you were my inspiration growing up, Dad. That’s why I’m playing Darkwing now. I’m gonna show this new generation who Darkwing Duck really is, a beacon of hope in the darkness! If a kid falls on hard times, they can look to Darkwing Duck to help them stand up and keep fighting! So come work on the movie with me! Let’s inspire everyone, together!”    

His son was nothing more than a filthy traitor, an awful impostor, a cunning thief who stole his entire life, identity, and legacy.  

If that backstabber wanted to become a superhero so badly, so be it. But he would have to lose those ridiculous ideals and morals about inspiring people and helping them stand on their own. 

Rage boiled in the pit of his stomach, his fingers tightening around the knife’s hilt. 

If his son wanted to be a bleeding heart and help people so badly, then why couldn’t he have started with his own father? 

His knife ripped through Darkwing Duck, destroying his image forever.

End AN: This AU is still a tragedy for the relationship between Jim Starling and Drake Mallard. But while Drake eventually becomes a hero and adds LP and Gosalyn to his family, Jim can’t see past the end of his own beak and still becomes Negaduck in the end. 

Drake had a fallout with Jim in his late high school/college years because Jim wasn’t taking care of himself and couldn’t let go of his glory years as Darkwing Duck. Jim started drinking to cope and shut out any attempts to help from Drake and his old coworkers. Jim also developed health issues later on, partially because of his unhealthy lifestyle and because of the injuries he accumulated during the original run of DWD. That said, Drake still loves his dad and wants to reconcile with him, but Jim keeps ignoring him. 

As much as I love The Duck Knight Returns, one nitpick I have with the episode is that the main characters don’t find out about the movie until the day the episode takes place, and Boorswan states that the production is almost finished. I can believe that Darkwing First Darkness most likely ran on extremely tight budget constraints and didn’t have a lot in the way of promotional materials and advertising due to Scrooge McDuck being the head executive. But with Launchpad being the DWD superfan, I believe that if there were any news at all of Darkwing getting its own reboot movie, he’d be following all updates on the movie religiously and talking everyone’s ears off about it. 

I can excuse Jim Starling for not finding out about the movie straight away. In this AU, Drake tried to tell him about being scouted and his plans to audition for DWD, but Starling wouldn’t listen and later accused Drake of hiding all this info from him. Throughout the movie’s production, Drake tried to contact Starling and update him about happenings on the set, advice on his stunts, and sometimes just wanting to know how he’s doing, but Starling never picked up the phone and didn’t speak to Drake until LP brought him to the studio to watch the filming of the climax. 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Pubic area care question! I shaved recently and I've got like a pretty sore pimple where a hair used to be (I have VERY thick public hair) Is that an ingrown hair? I've never had one of those and only heard about them and I'll admit I can't really Google it because I risk images popping up that will absolutely trigger my ridiculously fragile stomach and gag reflex. Any chance you could tell me yes or no?

hi anon,

it's likely, given that it appeared shortly after shaving.

the Teen Vogue article linked below has some helpful tips about treating ingrown hairs, and I'll drop my personal favorite tip for managing pubic hair prone to getting ingrown: don't shave, trim. get a little pair of scissors and snip that shit down as short as you like, but don't fuck with the irritation of razors. much gentler on your skin, way less likely to result in complications.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

Summary: Din realizes his error

A/N: Hello lovelies,

I hope everyone has a lovely weekend. I got up at 4 this morning so I could go for an hour walk before I started the day and now I'm super exhausted. If some of this doesn't exactly make sense I do apologize. I'll review it again tomorrow when I get a chance.

I know the GIF isn't Din Djarin, but ... eh, who cares. LOL.

Love oo

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warnings: Unwanted touching, manipulative personality, obsessive personality, apologizing, realizing anger directed at the wrong person, crying, grief, mentions of deceased person. I think that's about it, if I miss any warnings please let me know.

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Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

THE CRESTWORLD

CHAPTER FOUR

Din was ready to storm off, after listening to Ann defend herself. He hated that she had been so observant, and realized something did happen to him at the parent-teacher meeting. Honestly, he hadn’t realized how much it had bothered him, until she called him out on it. 

As much as he wanted to run off, and grab Grogu, something kept him frozen at the entrance to the kitchen. His hand rested against the doorframe, his back towards the kitchen. He knew he should apologize. She was right of course, it wasn’t her fault he’d been sensitive the last few mornings. 

It all had to do with that teacher, Estival. He’d known her for years. She’d been friends with Camilla ever since she moved into town to fulfil the teaching role.  

He admitted he noticed she’d always been extra friendly to him, but nothing more than just friends. Ever since Camilla passed away, she had reached out to him directly a couple of times, offering to help him, provide a meal or two for him and Grogu, but he never reciprocated or accepted her help. He never really felt comfortable with her, and now he knew why.

It never occurred to him, she would’ve tried to use Grogu as a means of getting closer to him. It became very clear, she was using Grogu, by the way she was treating him at the conference. It was eerie, as he watched her act like Grogu’s mother and be overly attentive. She even called him ‘son’ at one point.

He tried at first to justify her actions, but the more he watched how she was acting towards his son, the angrier he became. 

To realize he had allowed such a loathsome woman to be near his family, to allow her to teach his son, and who absolutely had no qualms about resting her hand on his inner thigh as she asked him to sit closer to her, so she could show some of Grogu’s work. He was shocked and disgusted by her attitude. Especially, when she tried to play the ‘I thought this is what you wanted’ card. He did the only thing he could that night, and told her that if she ever retaliated against Grogu because of his rejection, he would make sure everyone knew what kind of woman she was. He quickly left with Grogu in his arms, giving her one final warning before he headed home that night.

That night, for the fourth time since he lost Camilla he cried his eyes out as he fell asleep. He never knew there had been someone so abhorrent in Camilla’s life. He wondered what would’ve happened if she had lived … the thought alone made him feel unsettled. 

As he stood at the kitchen entrance, his eyes caught the picture of Camilla sitting on the front porch as her hand rested on her tiny bump, her pregnant belly just starting to show. She sat there while she read to Grogu. 

What made that night even worse, was the fact it would’ve been his and Camilla’s eleventh anniversary. 

He let out a deep sigh, his head tilted as he realized Ann had nothing to do with Estival. It wasn’t Ann’s fault she was here and Camilla wasn’t, or that he didn’t see the warning signs when it came to Estival. 

He slowly turned to look at her, she had her back to him as she was busy putting away the dishes that had been washed. She had been completely oblivious to his presence as she focused on her task.

“Sorry.”

I stopped moving as I heard his whispered voice, surprised to realize he was still there. I placed the dish in my hand on the counter, as I turned to look at him. He simply stood there looking at me, with barely any sort of reaction.

“Did you say something?”

He let out a sigh as he nodded his head slightly, he rubbed the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m sorry … I mean … ahem! I apologize for saying what I said, and for being short with you. Not just today but … since that night.”

I nodded in appreciation, I took my time thinking about what I wanted to say in return. He looked as though he was racked with guilt, there was no point making a mountain out of an ant hill. Regardless of what was said, it was clearly evident he was dealing with something and it wasn’t my place to figure out what that was for him. 

“Thanks Din. I appreciate it.” 

I waited for him to say more or to continue the conversation but he just stood there, I turned my attention back to the dishes that needed to be dried and put away. I could still feel his eyes on me, it was as though he was waiting for me to say something. 

However, the sound of tiny feet rushing to my side broke the weird tension that had been settled in the kitchen. I stopped moving, when I felt a tiny hand pressed against my thigh. I smirked as I looked down to see that smiling face of the cutest boy around, “Bye, Annie”

I couldn’t help match his smile, surprised by his actions, that had been the first time he had touched me voluntarily. I kneeled down, so I could look Grogu in the eye, “Bye, sweetie. Have a good day at school” I ruffled the hair on top of his head, before he ran off to his father’s side. Din nodded his goodbye as he held Grogu’s hand as they headed towards the bus stop. 

I let out a sigh, something wasn’t sitting right with me about the way we had left things. 

I felt as though I needed to at least let Din know we were okay. It was about fifteen minutes later, when I heard Din’s footsteps come back into the house, I met him in the hallway, before he decided to head upstairs. 

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Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

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[enchi-elm]

Shaving in the U.S. Military

This was an amazing rabbit-hole to fall into.

Having no visible facial hair of my own and not serving in the military (not being American, besides) means I have no context for the scene I am getting ready to write and so I did what any seasoned fic writer would do, which is procrastinate with 45 minutes of research.

Starting with a Youtube search "shaving in the continental army", because you can always find the best tangents pinging away from your actual question when you search on Youtube. And man! There's so many opinions and experiences with shaving!

I started with this:

Haha, I thought. And then, what's a shaving profile?

A shaving profile, I learned, is a shaving waiver, a paper that permits you to grow a "therapeutic beard" to treat, among other things, a skin condition called pseudofolliculitis barbae (PFB), or razor bumps, which can present as anything from uncomfortable to painful and bleeding. A shaving profile can also be issued for religious reasons. When this was first instituted, the hair length of the shaving profile beard could not exceed one quarter of an inch.

Oh, so men have also realized that frequent shaving is hell on your skin, I thought, with some snark. Sucks when your social capital depends on it, doesn't it?

Or your career. Because, in fact, for people in the military, it does.

From a study reported on in 2012, 21% of air force respondents reported that their career had been negatively impacted by having a shaving profile, read, wearing a beard. And of these respondents who reported a perceived shaving profile bias, 63% identified as Black, 14% as Hispanic and 5% as Latino. PFB is most commonly found in Black men.

How strong is this stigma? Oooh, strong.

It's often couched in "concerns" surrounding looking uniform to the group, being able to follow orders, and -- failing all that -- having a tight gas mask seal. But as you can see in this funny video, the tone behind those "concerns" is anything but friendly, and it's costing these soldiers leadership opportunities and awards.

Man, these comments are fascinating.

Alright, noted, I thought. So what does that mean for the 18th Century?

Well, as it turns out, the style has changed a lot in the course of military history. All soldiers were expected to look sharp, but more important in the 18th Century was being clean. Shaving or hair cuts isn't mentioned at all in Baron von Steuben's famous Blue Book but washing frequently is. It's only through the article below that I learned that soldiers in the Continental Army had to shave three times a week, though their facial hair seems to have caused less issue than their head hair.

Shaving yourself is one thing, but there were few options for competently managing your hair, so most men wore their hair long. Those who plaited into a queue did so with flour and animal fat, while cavalrymen put their hair in a club at the base of their neck (which was just a more horse-riding resistant hairstyle).

(Thinking back now, of course, I don't think I've ever seen an 18th C portrait of a man wearing a queue and sporting facial hair (...anyone?). And certainly in TURN the tv show no one has a beard, but that's a modern show catering to modern audiences. I can just imagine the uproar there'd be if anyone other than Caleb Brewster sported prominent facial hair. And certainly we all know how Brewster's beard informs his characterization.)

In 1801, the beloved queue was officially abolished in the U.S. military and it caused an uproar among the enlisted that nearly reached mutiny. From that to the famously bushy moustaches and mutton chops in the Civil War to the long hair, trimmed moustaches, and long side burns of the 1960s and 1970s that the Navy and Coast Guard to my complete shock permitted among their ranks, hair has been a contentious issue, waxing and waning in style ever since the military's inception in the States.

So there you go!

As a final thought, because I am a fic writer with a preference for the Tallster pairing, I shall leave you with one of my favourite Tallster fics, written by the wonderful @lucyemers.

It is, of course, about shaving.

Guess I should go write that scene, now.

[redshiftsinger]

I'd also add:

if you want to reduce waste and spend less money long-term, swap dryer sheets for a dryer ball. Basically, it's a ball of felted wool that you toss in your dryer. Does just as well as dryer sheets at stopping static, while being near-infinitely reusable.

Do NOT mix household cleaners! Ever! With the exception of baking soda and vinegar, if you use it for cleaning, don't mix it with other things you might use for cleaning. Nearly every combo makes incredibly toxic gases. Use one cleaner, if it doesn't do the job and you want to use another cleaner give the area a water rinse before applying cleaner #2. Relatedly, always read the directions on cleaning products and use as directed.

An electric beard shaver works well on leg hair, too. Get the screened kind, not the three-rotating-blades kind, it's less likely to snag your skin. So much faster than razors!

Mild allergies are more common than many people think. If you often get itchy rashes (even if it's just a few small raised bumps that look like tiny bug bites), cystic acne, dandruff that doesn't get better using medicated anti-dandruff shampoos, or canker sores in your mouth you might be allergic to your hygiene products. If your mouth feels sore, itchy, or tingly after eating certain foods, or if you think things that are not commonly described as such are "spicy", you may have a mild food allergy or a cross-reactivity from a pollen allergy.

Always dust rooms from the top down, because dust tends to fall. Vacuum after dusting rather than before, for the same reason.

Periods aren't supposed to be debilitating. Some menstrual-cramp pain is normal, but if you can't function without painkillers, see a doctor because you might have a hormonal imbalance or a condition such as endometriosis.

Vaginas are self-cleaning and do not need additional internal hygiene measures, in most cases. The exception is treating an infection IF you develop one, or if you end up internally exposed to an allergen or other irritant. In the latter case, a douche can help remove the irritant faster (either use one with a good pH balance, or follow-up with something to restore proper vaginal pH if you get in a pinch and have to douche with water to clear something out). Most of the time, just washing externally with water and a washcloth is plenty of hygiene maintenance. (Unless an actual doctor qualified to give you advice on vagina maintenance has instructed you to personally do differently).

Related to the above, but for everyone rather than specifically for folks with vaginas: spot-test new lubricants on your arm or something before you have sex using them. It's better to wait for sexy fun time than to get an allergic reaction on your nethers.

Folks with penises can also get genital yeast infections. They tend to be less uncomfortable for you than for folks with vaginas, but you can get them, and you can spread them to your sex partner(s). Wash your junk regularly. (having a yeast infection does not necessarily mean it was acquired via penetrative sex. That's only one possible vector, yeasts are *everywhere*)

In case no one told you growing up

Bras last longer if you let them air dry. Don’t put them in the dryer.

If you have a problem with frizzy hair, don’t dry your hair with a towel. It makes the frizzies worse. (I recently read an article that said to use a t-shirt? I brush mine out and let it air dry.)

Whites wash best in hot water. Everything else can be in cold - save on your electricity bill.

You can kill 99.9% of germs in a sponge by putting it in the dishwasher for a cycle or by microwaving it for 2 min (be sure to make the sponge damp before microwaving and to put a cup half full of water in with it and please DO NOT squeeze the sponge until it has cooled off)

Airing out your room/house and letting sunlight in every so often can decrease the number of household pests like silverfish and ants.

Black underwear is best during your period as stains are less likely to be visible.

To save money, put aside 10% of each paycheck into a savings account. It’ll add up.

Unless your hair has something on/in it (like grease or mud or something), using conditioner first can actually be the better choice. The conditioner holds in the good oils that help you hair look sleek and beautiful, which shampoo would otherwise wash away.

Speaking of shampoo - if you have long hair, washing just the bits that touch your scalp is generally enough. The rest of your hair gets cleaned with just the run off from your scalp.

If you put a tampon in and it’s uncomfortable/you can feel it, you didn’t do it quite right. A properly placed tampon is virtually unnoticeable by the wearer.

Apply deodorant/antiperspirant a couple hours in advance of when you need it. This gives the product the chance to block your sweat glands. Using deodorant just before going somewhere where you’ll sweat (this means walking outside for people in high humidity places) results in your sweat washing the deodorant off and starkly limiting its usefulness.

After running the dryer, use the dryer sheet from that load to brush out the lint catch - it gets everything off in a fraction of the time it’ll take you to get it clean with your bare hands. Paper towels also work well.

Wash your face everyday, or as often as possible. Forget which brand of cleanser is best. Just washing your face everyday will guarantee you clearer skin. And do you best not to pop pimples, as tempting as the urge may be.

Fold laundry asap after taking it from the dryer to avoid wrinkles. This may seem obvious for dress shirts and silly for things like t-shirts, but you’ll notice the difference even then once your shirts stop looking like unfolded paper balls.

[imageclinicindia]

Smooth Skin Goals? Try Laser Hair Reduction at Image Clinic 💫

Tired of endless waxing sessions, razor burns, or painful threading appointments? If you’re someone who dreams of smooth, hair-free skin without the hassle, it’s time to explore Laser Hair Reduction in Kolkata – a safe, long-term solution offered at Image Clinic, led by renowned skin expert Dr. Debasree Banik.

🌟 Why Choose Laser Hair Reduction?

Laser Hair Reduction uses advanced light-based technology to target hair follicles and reduce hair growth over time. It’s quick, effective, and works well on common areas like the face, underarms, arms, legs, bikini line, and even the back. At Image Clinic, we use skin-safe laser technology that’s suitable for all Indian skin tones and types.

You’ll notice:

Less hair growth in just a few sessions

Softer, smoother skin

No more ingrown hair or razor bumps

And guess what? You don’t have to stop at laser! Many of our clients also choose to combine this with other skin-boosting treatments like Acne Treatment, Botox Treatment, or Fillers Treatment for a complete transformation.

💆‍���️ Treat More Than Just Hair

If you're struggling with stubborn breakouts or post-acne marks, our Acne Treatment in Kolkata can help you regain clear, confident skin. From active acne to acne scars, our treatments are curated to suit your skin’s specific needs.

Looking for anti-aging solutions? Try Botox Treatment to smooth out wrinkles or Fillers Treatment to restore youthful volume to your cheeks, under-eyes, or lips — all offered under one roof at Image Clinic.

🧴 Kolkata Knows Where to Glow

From Gariahat to Salt Lake, more and more people are ditching short-term beauty fixes and turning to Image Clinic for long-lasting results with real care.

Whether it’s achieving flawless skin, a younger look, or just low-maintenance beauty, we’ve got it all covered — and it starts with Laser Hair Reduction.

📞 Ready to Book?

Visit Image Clinic, Kolkata and consult with Dr. Debasree Banik today. Let us help you reveal the best version of your skin — smooth, radiant, and confidently you.

[delhiwellnessclinics]

Unveiling Benefits of Laser Hair Removal

From razors and waxing strips to depilatory creams and threading, people have tried it all and seek something that does not offer painful and short-lived results. That’s where laser hair removal enters and promises to offer long-lasting and effective results, becoming popular among individuals. 

If you are tired of the constant hustle of shaving and waxing, laser hair removal might be the answer. In this blog, we will unveil the benefits of laser hair removal in Delhi. Stay tuned for further information . 

Top Benefits of Laser Hair Removal

The key benefits of laser hair removal are mentioned below: 

Long-Lasting Results

One of the biggest advantages is the long-term reduction in hair growth. Unlike shaving or waxing, which requires regular upkeep, laser hair removal can result in months or even years of smooth, hair-free skin after completing a full treatment course. 

Quick and Efficient Procedure

Laser hair removal sessions are relatively quick. Compared to hours spent shaving or booking monthly waxing appointments, this is a major time-saver in the long run. Depending on the area treated:

Small areas (upper lip, underarms) may take just 5–10 minutes

Larger areas (legs, back) may take 30–60 minutes

Cost-Effective Over Time

Although laser treatments may seem expensive initially, they can save you money in the long run. No more spending on razors, waxing, depilatory creams, or salon visits every few weeks.

Minimal Discomfort and Side Effects

Modern laser technologies have improved dramatically. With options like cooling tips and pain-reducing systems, discomfort during the procedure is minimal, often described as a mild snapping or tingling sensation.

Precision and Effectiveness

Lasers are extremely precise. They target dark, coarse hairs without damaging the surrounding skin, making them ideal for sensitive areas like the face and bikini line. Moreover, each session treats multiple hairs at once, making it far more efficient than plucking or electrolysis.

No More Ingrown Hairs

If you suffer from ingrown hairs, especially after shaving or waxing, laser hair removal can be a relief. By destroying the follicle, it prevents the hair from growing back and curling under the skin, eliminating the risk of ingrown hairs and razor bumps.

Smoother, Softer Skin

With hair out of the picture, your skin feels noticeably smoother and softer. There’s no stubble, no prickly regrowth, and no irritation from razors or wax.

Get expert consultation at the best skin clinic in Delhi, DWC!

Laser hair removal offers a long-term, low-maintenance solution for individuals seeking smoother skin and freedom from constant shaving or waxing. It’s a worthwhile investment for your time, money, and confidence.

If you are tired of dealing with daily stubble, recurring ingrown hairs, or the hassle of frequent salon visits, laser hair removal can simplify your routine and enhance your skin’s appearance. To know more, book an appointment with the best skin clinic in Delhi for laser hair removal, Delhi Wellness Clinic! 

Original Source:- https://675a821e60375.site123.me/blog/unveiling-benefits-of-laser-hair-removal

[mygirlsouz0097]

Smooth Skin, Less Effort: Discover Laser Hair Removal in Calgary Alberta

If you’re looking for an easier way to manage unwanted hair, laser hair removal in Calgary Alberta might be exactly what you need. It’s quick, safe, and gives you long-lasting smooth skin. No more rushing to shave or booking painful waxing appointments. This treatment is becoming more popular across Calgary, and it’s easy to see why.

Let’s look at how it works, what to expect, and why so many people love it.

What Is Laser Hair Removal?

Laser hair removal is a medical treatment that uses light to target the hair roots. The laser heats the hair follicle and stops it from growing more hair. After a few sessions, you’ll see less hair in the treated areas.

This treatment is safe for many parts of the body, including:

Face (like upper lip and chin)

Legs

Underarms

Bikini area

Back and chest

Many people choose laser hair removal in Calgary Alberta because it saves time and gives better results than shaving or waxing.

How It Works

The laser looks for the pigment (color) in your hair. When it finds it, it sends light energy to the root of the hair. This energy destroys the hair at the base and makes it hard for it to grow again.

You’ll need more than one session to get the best results. That’s because hair grows in different stages. Most people need 6 to 8 sessions, spaced a few weeks apart.

What Are the Benefits?

There are many reasons people are choosing laser hair removal in Calgary Alberta over other hair removal methods.

1. Long-Lasting Results

After your full set of sessions, you can enjoy smooth skin for months or even years. Some hair may grow back over time, but it’s usually much finer and lighter.

2. No More Ingrown Hairs

Shaving and waxing often lead to red bumps and ingrown hairs. Laser hair removal helps prevent these issues, giving you clear, smooth skin.

3. Less Time and Effort

Imagine not having to shave every few days. Laser hair removal saves you time in the long run. You’ll also spend less money on razors and waxing appointments.

4. Great for All Skin Types

With the latest technology, many clinics offer laser treatments that work for all skin tones and hair types. Always check with the technician to make sure the laser is right for your skin.

What to Expect During the Session

When you go for laser hair removal in Calgary Alberta, here’s what usually happens:

The area will be cleaned.

You might be given goggles to protect your eyes.

The laser will be moved over the area. You may feel a small snap or warmth.

The session usually takes 15–60 minutes depending on the area.

After treatment, the skin might feel a bit warm or red for a few hours. This is normal and goes away quickly.

Is It Painful?

Most people say laser hair removal feels like a rubber band snap. Some areas are more sensitive, like the bikini line or upper lip. But overall, it’s much less painful than waxing.

Some clinics in Calgary use cooling devices to make the treatment more comfortable. You can also ask about numbing creams.

Choosing the Right Clinic in Calgary

Not all clinics are the same. When looking for laser hair removal in Calgary Alberta, it’s important to choose a place that is clean, professional, and uses safe equipment.

Here are a few things to look for:

Certified laser technicians

Modern laser machines

Good reviews

Clear pricing

You can even visit the clinic before booking to ask questions and see how you feel.

Who Should Avoid Laser Hair Removal?

Laser hair removal is not for everyone. You should talk to a professional if:

You are pregnant

You have very light or grey hair (lasers may not work well)

You have certain skin conditions or are on specific medications

A consultation will help you find out if it’s safe and right for you.

Start Your Journey to Smooth Skin Today

If you’re done with razors, waxing, and plucking, then it’s time to try something better. Laser hair removal in Calgary Alberta is a smart way to get smooth, hair-free skin without all the hassle.

Whether you want to treat a small area like your upper lip or go for full body hair removal, there are great options in Calgary to suit your needs and budget.

Book a consultation, ask your questions, and take the first step. You’ll be glad you did!