#Best Cheek and Jawline Filler near Me

[omahamedspa]

Our Best Cheek and Jawline Filler near Me in the USA

To locate the first-rate Best cheek and jawline filler near me your place, recall getting to know local Omaha Med spa or beauty clinics specializing in those remedies. You can take any type of health and medical spa service. To get more information then visit our website.

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The Wonders of Dermal Fillers

Embark on a journey to rediscover your youth with the wonders of dermal fillers. This post delves into everything you need to know about dermal fillers: from choosing the right type for your skin to understanding how they can erase years off your face, giving you a natural, refreshed look. Whether you're considering your first treatment or looking to learn more about this non-invasive procedure, we've got you covered. Dive into the world of dermal fillers and see how they're changing the game in skincare and beauty.

[arejeaesthetics]

What Are the Differences Between Botox and Fillers?

When it comes to achieving youthful, smooth skin, Botox and dermal fillers are two of the most popular non-surgical treatments. Many people searching for Botox in Birmingham or anti-wrinkle injections near me often wonder: What’s the difference between Botox and fillers? While both treatments are designed to reduce signs of aging, they work in different ways and target different concerns.

In this article, we’ll break down the differences between Botox and fillers, helping you decide which treatment is best for your needs.

What Is Botox?

Botox is a purified form of botulinum toxin that temporarily relaxes facial muscles, reducing the appearance of wrinkles and fine lines. It’s commonly used for:

Forehead lines

Frown lines (between the eyebrows)

Crow’s feet (around the eyes)

Under eye wrinkle treatment

By preventing muscle contractions, Botox smooths out existing wrinkles and prevents new ones from forming. This makes it a great option for those looking for anti-wrinkle injections to maintain a youthful appearance.

What Are Dermal Fillers?

Unlike Botox, dermal fillers do not affect muscle movement. Instead, they add volume and hydration to areas of the face where collagen and elasticity have decreased. Fillers are typically made from hyaluronic acid, a naturally occurring substance in the body that helps retain moisture.

Dermal fillers are used for:

Lip enhancement

Cheek volume restoration

Jawline and chin contouring

Nasolabial folds (smile lines) correction

Under eye wrinkle treatment

Key Differences Between Botox and Fillers

Feature

Botox

Dermal Fillers

Purpose

Reduces muscle movement to smooth wrinkles

Adds volume and fills wrinkles

Best for

Dynamic wrinkles (caused by facial expressions)

Static wrinkles (caused by loss of volume)

Common areas

Forehead, around the eyes, frown lines

Lips, cheeks, jawline, under-eye area

Duration of results

3-6 months

6 months to 2 years

Procedure time

10-20 minutes

20-40 minutes

Downtime

Minimal

Minimal

Pain level

Mild discomfort

Mild to moderate

Both treatments are effective, but the right choice depends on your specific aesthetic goals.

Who Should Get Botox?

Botox is ideal for individuals who:

Want to smooth dynamic wrinkles

Prefer a non-invasive solution to aging

Want to prevent the formation of new lines

If you’re searching for Botox near me, it’s important to consult with a qualified aesthetic professional who can provide a customized treatment plan.

Who Should Get Fillers?

Fillers are best for people who:

Want to restore lost volume in the face

Have deep wrinkles or folds

Desire fuller lips or more defined facial contours

At Areje Aesthetics, we provide expert anti-ageing injections tailored to your unique needs.

Can Botox and Fillers Be Used Together?

Yes! Many patients combine Botox and fillers for comprehensive facial rejuvenation. This approach is often called a liquid facelift and helps achieve a youthful yet natural look. Botox smooths dynamic wrinkles, while fillers restore volume where needed.

How Long Do Botox and Fillers Last?

Botox: Typically lasts 3 to 6 months, after which muscle movement gradually returns.

Fillers: Depending on the type used, results can last anywhere from 6 months to 2 years.

To maintain long-lasting results, regular treatments are recommended.

Are There Any Side Effects?

Both Botox and fillers are generally safe when administered by a qualified professional. However, some possible side effects include:

Botox Side Effects:

Temporary bruising

Mild swelling

Headache (rare)

Filler Side Effects:

Mild swelling or redness

Bruising at the injection site

Temporary lumpiness (which usually settles)

Choosing a reputable clinic like Areje Aesthetics ensures safe and high-quality treatments.

How to Choose the Right Treatment for You

If you’re unsure whether to choose Botox or fillers, consider the following:

For wrinkles caused by facial expressions: Botox is the best choice.

For wrinkles due to volume loss: Fillers work better.

For overall rejuvenation: A combination of both may be ideal.

Our experts at Areje Aesthetics in Birmingham offer personalized consultations to help determine the best treatment for you.

Where to Get Botox and Fillers in Birmingham

If you’re looking for Botox in Birmingham, anti-wrinkle injections, or anti-ageing injections, Areje Aesthetics is your go-to clinic. We specialize in natural-looking results that enhance your beauty without looking overdone.

Why Choose Areje Aesthetics?

✔ Highly trained practitioners ✔ Personalized treatment plans ✔ Safe, FDA-approved products ✔ Competitive pricing and expert care

Book your consultation today to explore your options for eye wrinkle treatment, under eye wrinkle treatment, and Botox near me services.

Conclusion

Both Botox and fillers are excellent options for reducing the signs of aging, but they serve different purposes. Botox is ideal for dynamic wrinkles, while fillers restore lost volume. Understanding these differences can help you choose the right treatment for your needs.

If you’re searching for anti-wrinkle injections near me or expert Botox in Birmingham, visit Areje Aesthetics for a personalized consultation and high-quality aesthetic treatments.

[glamaesthetics010]

Discover the Best Dermal Fillers Near Me for a Youthful Look

In the pursuit of youthful, radiant skin, dermal fillers have become a popular non-invasive solution. Whether you're looking to smooth fine lines, restore volume, or enhance facial contours, finding the right dermal fillers near me can make all the difference. This article explores the benefits of dermal fillers and offers insights on how to find a reliable provider near you.

What Are Dermal Fillers? Dermal fillers are injectable treatments designed to restore lost volume, reduce wrinkles, and enhance facial features. They typically contain substances like hyaluronic acid, which retains moisture and promotes skin plumpness. Dermal fillers are often used in areas such as the lips, cheeks, under the eyes, and jawline to rejuvenate the face.

Benefits of Dermal Fillers

Quick and Non-Invasive: No need for surgery or lengthy recovery times.

Natural-Looking Results: Enhance facial features without altering your natural beauty.

Long-Lasting Effects: Results can last anywhere from 6 months to 2 years.

Versatile Applications: Smooth fine lines, enhance lips, or contour cheeks with precision.

How to Find the Best Dermal Fillers Near Me Finding a reputable clinic for dermal fillers is essential for safe and effective results. Here are some tips:

Research Online Reviews: Look for clinics with positive testimonials and high ratings.

Check Certifications: Ensure the clinic employs certified professionals trained in dermal filler procedures.

Schedule a Consultation: A consultation helps you understand the procedure and set realistic expectations.

Compare Pricing: While affordability is important, prioritize quality and experience.

What to Expect During the Treatment The procedure for dermal fillers typically lasts 15-30 minutes, depending on the area treated. A numbing agent may be applied to minimize discomfort. After the injection, you might experience mild swelling or redness, but this usually subsides within a day or two. The results are visible almost instantly, leaving you with a refreshed and youthful look.

Click here for more information:-

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Thread Lift Treatment in Hyderabad

[ottawadermcentre]

Facelift Ottawa ON | Rhytidectomy Surgery Near Me Cost

A facelift is a comprehensive solution to signs of aging around the mid-face and neckline, creating a more youthful-looking and rejuvenated you! At Ottawa Derm Centre, our facial cosmetic surgeon and head and neck surgeon, Dr. Bonaparte, has the skills and expertise to help you achieve the natural-looking results you are looking for.

What is a Facelift?

A facelift is performed to treat facial wrinkles and sagging skin caused by aging. Removing excess, sagging skin can lift and tighten the deep facial tissues and smoothen out deep folds to help patients achieve a refreshed, more youthful appearance.

The facelift procedure can address the following:

Sagging skin in the midface and jawline

Lines that extend from each corner of the mouth down to the chin (marionette lines)

Deep creases that extend from the nose to the corners of the mouth (nasolabial folds)

Facial volume that has fallen or been displaced

Sagging in the lower face results in jowls

Creased and sagging skin on the neck

Visit Type- Choose - Botox on Demand Cosmetic Consultation Cosmetic Consultation w/Dermatologist Cosmetic Consultation w/Dermatologist & Surgeon Cosmetic Consultation w/Surgeon Cosmetic Consultation w/Surgeon & Aesthetician Cosmetic Treatment - Existing Patients Massage Therapy w/ RMT ODC Acne Solution ODC Customized Facials / Peels Visit Reason- Choose - Abdominoplasty (Tummy Tuck) Blepharoplasty - Upper (Eyelid Surgery) Blepharoplasty - Upper or Lower (Eyelid Surgery) Body Contouring Botox Brachioplasty (Under Arm Fat and Skin removal) Breast Augmentation and/or Lift (not including breast reductions) Brow Lift Buccal Fat Pad Excision Chin Implant Eye - Juvenation Facelift Facial Aging and Rejuvenation Gynecomastia Reduction (Male) Head and Neck Liposuction Labiaplasty (Vaginal Rejuvenation) Liposuction Mommy Makeover (Breast Augmentation, Tummy Tuck, Vaginal Rejuvenation, Liposuction) Otoplasty (Ear Pinning) Post Weight Loss Body Contouring Rhinoplasty (Cosmetic) Rhinoplasty (Injectable Filler Cosmetic) Thigh lift 

Dr. Peter Brownrigg, MD, RCPSC

Dr. Brownrigg is a Facial Plastic Surgeon specialized in Facelifts, Rhinoplasty, Brow Lifts, Blepharoplasty, Chin Implants, Botox, Filler, and overall Facial Aging. With over 30 years of experience, Dr. Brownrigg is a pioneer and experienced professional in Facial Surgery and Aesthetic Medicine. Dr. Brownrigg practices at our Hunt Club location in Ottawa. Consultations with Dr. Brownrigg are $100 + HST.

Tue, Oct 15

1pm

Tue, Oct 15

1:30pm

Thu, Oct 17

8:30am

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Dr. James Bonaparte, MD, MSC, FRCSC

Dr. Bonaparte is a Head & Neck Surgeon practicing in Facial Plastic Surgery for over 15 years. He specializes in Rhinoplasty, Head and Neck Liposuction, Chin Implants, Facial Rejuvenation, and a variety of other Head & Neck procedures. Dr. Bonaparte practices at our Hunt Club location in Ottawa. Consultations with Dr. Bonaparte are $100 + HST.

Wed, Oct 16

2pm

Wed, Oct 16

2:15pm

Wed, Oct 16

2:30pm

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The Facelift Procedure

There are a number of different facelift techniques available today. The one that is right for you will depend on your individual needs, and your cosmetic surgeon’s recommendation. These techniques include:

Mini-Facelift

This technique is best for patients with a mild degree of sagging skin, as it is less invasive than a standard facelift. During this procedure, short incisions located along the hairline above each ear and in the natural creases surrounding the ear are made. Through these incisions, tissues around the cheeks are tightened and lifted to correct jowling and refine the jawline. 

Standard Facelift

This technique is more comprehensive and addresses moderate to advanced aging around the mid-face and neck. Incisions are made just behind the hairline beginning near the temples and around the front of the ear. Through these incisions, your surgeon will reposition the deep tissues beneath the skin and remove any excess skin to create a more youthful facial and neck contour.

Facelift Recovery

Following the facelift procedure, patients may experience swelling, bruising, and discomfort, which will gradually get better with time. Most patients can return to their normal activities after about two weeks, though strenuous activity and exercise should be avoided for about four weeks. The face should also be protected from the sun, as patients will be more vulnerable to sunburn for several weeks after surgery. Every person heals a little differently, so your cosmetic surgeon will provide you with specific instructions on how to properly care for your treatment site for the best results. 

Candidates for a Facelift

Adults who feel that their face does not reflect their energy level or youthful spirit, or are unhappy with facial sagging and excess skin on their face and neck can often benefit from a facelift. A consultation at our office is needed to best determine the treatment option for you.

Know more at https://ottawadermcentre.com/cosmetic-surgery/facelift/

[bfabulouspvtltd]

Unlocking the Power of Cosmetic Injectables for Facial Rejuvenation: An Aussie's Guide to Youthful Skin

"Seeking a youthful glow? Cosmetic injectables for facial rejuvenation might be your answer. At our top-notch cosmetic injectables clinics in Perth, we specialise in non-surgical treatments. Our experts are dedicated to enhancing your natural beauty. Discover the difference today – rejuvenate, refresh and revitalise with us!"

Affordable and Effective: Cosmetic Injectables for Facial Rejuvenation

Has your reflection been looking a bit tired lately? Are you missing that youthful glow? Welcome to the exciting realm of cosmetic injectables, a non-surgical solution to help rewind the hands of time.

Cosmetic Injectables Near Me

The surge of aesthetic clinics might leave you asking, "Where can I find the best cosmetic injectables Perth?" Luckily, Australia is home to numerous reputable clinics offering affordable yet top-quality treatments. It's vital to choose a clinic that employs certified professionals, maintains high safety standards, and uses premium products to ensure the best outcomes.

Tackling Wrinkles with the Best Cosmetic Injectables

When it comes to restoring youthfulness, injectables are hard to beat. The best cosmetic injectables for wrinkles include Botox and dermal fillers. Botox helps relax facial muscles, reducing the appearance of lines and wrinkles, while fillers add volume to the face, smooth out wrinkles, and enhance facial contours.

Affordable Cosmetic Injectables Clinics: Quality without Compromise

Worried about the cost? There's no need to be. There are many affordable cosmetic injectables clinics in Perth that deliver quality without compromising safety or results. Despite being budget-friendly, Bfabulous clinics don't skimp on quality or expertise, offering access to skilled practitioners and cutting-edge technology.

Before and After Cosmetic Injectables: Real-life Transformations

Before you dive into any treatment, it's crucial to see actual before and after cosmetic injectables photos. These images offer a clear picture of what you can expect, showing real-life transformations achieved by patients just like you. Remember, each person's results will vary, as injectables are personalised to individual facial structures and aesthetic goals.

Cosmetic Injectables for Facial Rejuvenation: Beyond Wrinkle Treatment

Injectables offer a fantastic facial rejuvenation solution, going beyond anti-wrinkle Injection treatment Perth. These products can add volume to your cheeks, sculpt your jawline, and even enhance your lips. The possibilities are extensive, making cosmetic injectables a versatile tool in aesthetic medicine.

Frequently Asked Questions

1. Are cosmetic injectables safe?

Yes, when administered by a trained and qualified professional, cosmetic injectables are generally safe. However, as with any procedure, there are potential risks and side effects that should be discussed with your clinician.

2. How long do the effects of cosmetic injectables last?

The duration of effects can vary depending on the type of injectable used and individual factors. Botox typically lasts between 3 to 6 months, while dermal fillers can last between 6 months to 2 years.

3. Are cosmetic injectables painful?

Most patients report minimal discomfort during the procedure. Clinics often use a topical anaesthetic to minimise any pain.

4. Can anyone get cosmetic injectables?

While injectables are suitable for most people, certain conditions may prevent their use. A thorough consultation with a qualified professional is necessary to determine suitability.

5. Will I look unnatural after getting injectables?

A skilled practitioner will ensure results look natural and complement your unique facial features. Remember, the goal is enhancement, not alteration.

Embrace your beauty and say goodbye to those pesky wrinkles. With cosmetic injectables, facial rejuvenation is at your fingertips. Remember, it's not about altering your appearance, but highlighting your natural beauty. Start your journey today! Contact BFabulous for cosmetic injectables services.

[jangofctts]

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)    

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT  

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace. 

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy. 

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.    

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.   

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.” 

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.       

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it. 

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.     

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…  

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.” 

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.  

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.” 

You smile. “Lovely.” 

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like  a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.  

                                        -=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality. 

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.     

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.” 

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—  

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home. 

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.  

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare. 

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement. 

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.” 

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors. 

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.” 

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.        

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.  

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—   

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.  

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot. 

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away. 

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle. 

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder. 

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.   

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.” 

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.     

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.” 

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat. 

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.      

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—        

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder. 

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind. 

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile. 

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.  

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll. 

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit. 

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak. 

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement. 

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses. 

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short. 

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”  

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more. 

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains. 

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.         

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his  calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself. 

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist.  Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes. 

Fuck yeah.    

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock. 

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh. 

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—    

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge. 

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.     

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.   

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.” 

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.   

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.   

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation. 

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.” 

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from  your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.   

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark. 

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now. 

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.      

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.  

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?   

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs. 

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question. 

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command. 

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.   

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.    

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff. 

Fuck, you need more.   

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.    

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight. 

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you. 

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.    

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.        

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.  

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“ 

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.” 

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs. 

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.  

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days. 

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.          

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs. 

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much. 

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”      

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.” 

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.       

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.   

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.    

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.” 

There we go. 

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes. 

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness. 

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile. 

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep. 

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sorry if I missed you AH!!!!

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi 💜💜 i got a prompt about ian x body image a while ago (my inbox is a hot mess and i may have deleted the prompt lol, but i did paste it into my phone notes)- and i was feeling some feelings today & had some spare time amidst my travels & ended up writing this!!

prompt: can you write about ian and his relationship with his body image, esp post-canon when they move to the westside

(tw for body image/eating disorder/food mentions)

--

He didn’t really even think about it the first times that he did it— skipping a few meals that went unnoticed in the morning clamor of the Gallagher kitchen. He noticed his skin growing tauter and tighter around his abdomen with every passing day, a hollow absence sitting like a rock in the pit of his stomach.

He did it for a reason—he’d been getting more lingering looks under the flashing lights at the club, more unwelcome fingers pressed against the now-present ridges on his stomach, tracing his toned upper arms. The less there was of him, the more they wanted him.

The thing about Ian is that he was always disciplined; the middle child, the one who was overlooked and ignored and blended in until he decided that he had to make a name for himself. He and Lip and gotten into hair-tugging, jaw-smashing fights about this very reality; Ian was completely, totally, absolutely ordinary. Until he made himself extraordinary—until he burst through the storefront labeled “ARMY” at a strip mall with smudged windows and said with a tall chest: I want to enlist.

Everything had led up to this— every push-up on the creaking slanted floor of their childhood bedroom, every jog at the crack of dawn. He was going to make something of himself, he was going to be a hero.

He was going to get the fuck away from Mickey, and his wife, and whatever else kept pushing him down and holding him back.

When Ian came back from the army, when he was sleeping on exposed floorboards and working at the club all night—that was when it all actually started. When he decided that less of him meant more—when he decided that he should give people the best show he could, because everything else was fucked up anyways. This was all he was good for.

But then Mickey came through the door, pale skin flashing in the strobe lights, wearing that fucking dark button-up with sleeves folded to his forearms and smelling like nice cologne that he’d almost definitely stolen from one of his brothers’ bathroom shelves; and for a brief moment after the initial shock set in, Ian was proud— proud of how much negative space surrounded him, proud of how he could press his thighs into stretched golden spandex better than any of the other men thrumming to the beat beside him on the podium. Proud of how much other people wanted him, when Mickey didn't.

It was only later, after Mickey carried him home (easily, too easily) after he’d passed out in a snowbank, and Ian had woken and waited for Mickey to burst into his bedroom door at the Gallagher house while he leaned against the wall and scribbled on a notepad— later, when Mickey was about to curl on the floor and sleep using one of Liam’s balled-up t-shirts as a pillow— that Ian noticed Mickey’s eyes lingering on his uncovered torso, a second longer than the quick glances of admiration from the well-dressed men with greased-back hair and grubby fingers at the club. It hit Ian, then, when he saw Mickey’s gaze that was soft around the edges, the same fuzziness and confusion of Fiona’s stares when he would chatter on for too long in the mornings:

He’s worried about me.

But Mickey played along— Ian was back, and Mickey stayed beside him this time, and chuckled when he walked down the stairs to the sight of Ian cutting off the bottom half of his old ROTC pants, now multiple sizes too big and hanging baggy even at the hips. Mickey curled beside him on the twin bed, silently stroking hair back from his forehead and cradling his cheeks with a feather-light touch as Lip and Liam’s even, sleeping breaths swirled around them. And Ian kept doing pull-ups, and told Carl that he liked the way that Mickey smelled. Mickey came out for him. And for a while things were really, really fucking good, and Ian didn’t even think about the gnawing hollow feeling in his stomach at all any more.

Until a grey morning came, quick and silent, and kept him frozen under the sheets for days.

In the months afterwards, Ian trained harder, faster—he met up with Fiona as she pushed Liam in the stroller and jogged beside them, ran before and after shifts at the club, did push-ups on Mickey’s grimy floor while he was out handling Rub N’ Tug shit.

I’m not Monica. This wasn’t going to happen again. His body could do this. His body could fix his brain.

It couldn’t.

Most of what happened on the “road trip” with Yevgeny (that was the only phrasing that Ian could really mentally use to name the incident, the only semiotic filler for “kidnapping” that didn’t want to make him burrow even deeper under his tattered blankets) was a blur—Mickey feeding him fistfuls of pills and room-temperature Gatorade, luring Mickey to the dugouts where he tried to do a pull-up and felt a quivering in his limbs, a weakness rather than a familiar and fulfilling burn. Slamming Mickey in the face with a fist that was too flimsy, too weak—a fist that still left the blooming of a bruise on Mickey’s jawline, a splatter of blood caking into his eyebrow. But still weak, still not enough. Definitely not strong enough to fight off two MPs with loaded guns, tangling his hands behind his back and forcing him into the backseat of a car.

More blurry days— on the road with Monica. Breaking up with Mickey. Getting a job at Patsy’s. Withering away, purple bags sagging under his eyes. Becoming less, always less.

Then, a glimmer of light— he met Caleb. He studied to be an EMT. He got a call from Mandy, got to wrap her in his arms in less-than-ideal circumstances.

“I got tired of starving myself to fit in that golden thong.”

It was the first time he’d said it out loud.

He started to run again—and he started to not miss it, the hollow feeling gnawing at his insides, the twisting lack. He met Trevor, he went to brunches, he ordered mimosas and muffins and kept himself in shape, but didn’t push himself too far.

So it surprised him, really, when once again his body and mind weren’t in sync.

That was the biggest thing he’d think about, in the idle hours of he and Mickey’s prison cell, months later—that for once in his life, years after the nights at the club or the hazy early mornings at Patsy’s or in a baggy janitor uniform, he was actually doing really, really fucking good. He had a following. He was strong. Or at least he thought he was.

But something about being near Mickey pulled him out of his head and into his body, centered him— it always did. Mickey had always liked his body; Ian remembered how Mickey’s eyed at lingered that night at the dugouts, when they were two kids doing pull-ups and Mickey watched his muscles clench in the moonlight, two sets of shining eyes and bodies warm with beer leaning closer to each other in the muggy air. But Ian never felt a need to flaunt his body, or change his body, for Mickey— and in so many ways, those first days in prison were like his body was coming home. Sometimes it was hard, and fast, and filthy words whispered into each other’s skin—and sometimes it left them grasping for breath in an entirely different way, in fingertips lazily skimming over collarbones and fisted into roots of hair, of breathed “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful”s escaping Mickey’s parted mouth that Ian mentally stored but never brought up again, because he knew in the best case scenario Mickey would just roll his eyes and call him a “soft bitch,” and in the worst he would just flat-out deny it. But Ian felt balanced in a way he hadn't in months, with all the "Gay Jesus" bullshit pressing in. He took his meds, he did his nightly sit-ups, he counted down the days—until the hourglass was slipped out from under his fingertips and he was teleported back to the Gallagher house, back to the place where so much of this began and so much was about to end.

The hollowness, the hunger, didn’t really need to be there anymore once he was out— it was only a dull murmur. A ghost, a memory trapped in dreams of strobe lights and prying hands.

Mickey got out, and they got married—and in the moments before Ian called Mickey an “ugly motherfucker” as he let a smile crack onto his face—and he knew Mickey felt it, knew Mickey heard: I have never known anyone as beautiful as you.

And Ian’s fullness just kept blooming and compounding and radiating after the wedding; they fought, and then they didn’t, and it didn’t matter anyways because they were fucking married. Ian kept doing sit-ups before they went to bed, even though he felt like he didn’t really have to anymore. Something big had shifted; something had settled and given way, had filled in all the cracks.

So he’s surprised, when they move to the West Side, and that feeling starts to stir again; faint, fuzzy, like some sort of invasive and shapeless amoeba in the dark corners of his brain, whispering and hissing that there should be less of him. On their first morning in the new place he heads to the gym, wearing a camo t-shit that covered his torso and shoulders—and of course he ends up making a fool of himself next to some guy, some guy that he could have been, with sweaty toned abs and bronzed skin and rippling muscles. He doesn’t know why it gets to him, that small interaction—he’s so much happier now, so fucking happy he’s buzzing with it, but there’s also something churning in the faultlines of transition; that aching for hollow absence and stretched skin and interested eyes, that feeling that made him woozy and lightheaded as a kid but also sickeningly proud, like every moment of standing tall, of dancing, of staying alive was a statement, a challenge, a test of how much he could push his ability to be desired.

He immediately pushes the thought down. He doesn’t fucking need that anymore to keep his head above water; he’s stable, he’s loved, he’s fed. He’s growing organic tomatoes, and definitely developing a farmer’s tan from his days hunched over their way-too-tiny community garden plot tenderly watering and pruning the vines and brambles. He is desired. So it doesn’t make fucking sense that the hunger, the clawing in his stomach for the absence, doesn’t really stop.

**

“Okay Gallagher, spill.”

Ian felt his eyebrow raise instinctively at Mickey’s tone. “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at this fancy fucking chicken thing you made for, like, twenty minutes. Stop staring at it and eat your goddamn dinner.”

He felt a twist in his gut. I don’t want to.

“M’actually not really that hungry.”

Mickey’s eyes narrowed. “The fuck’s up? You stressed about work shit?”

Ian huffed out a breath of relief. “Nah. It’s not that.” He fiddled with his fork on the plate, drawing lines into the sauce pooled under the tomato-basil chicken he’d made. It was healthy, it was good, he’d worked out today; he could stomach a couple bites of dinner if he fucking had to. He just had to work up to it. Even the smell was making his stomach twist— it had smelled good while he was cooking it, placing fresh-scented basil leaves into the simmering sauce, but now it just was too much.

Mickey’s boot nudged against his calf from under the kitchen island. “Ey. Is it a tired thing? Or a… sick thing?” His eyes darted to their kitchen cupboard, where Ian kept his meds on the bottom shelf by the water glasses. “Or, like, a food thing?”

Ian felt his fingers go slack around his fork. “A food thing?”

“Yeah, man, y’know. When you get all weird about food.”

A tightness in his chest. “What the fuck? I don’t get weird about food.”

Mickey’s eyes flickered to meet his—and Ian would have gotten more pissed off if he didn’t see the soft concern bleeding into Mickey’s gaze, how cautiously Mickey was trying to broach the topic. Ian blew out a breath. Of fucking course Mickey noticed this shit— he always did.

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re usually good, especially compared to when you were fucking starving yourself when we were kids. But, uh… I don’t know.” Now it was Mickey’s turn to play with his food, scraping his fork along the remnants of sauce on his plate that was nearly clean. “You got kind of weird about working out and shit in prison. And then at the house, with all the quarantine bullshit the first few weeks. Eating fuckin’ cereal all the time, then not eating at all. You’ve been normal since then, or whatever. Lookin’ healthy.” Ian felt Mickey’s gaze drag over him. “Just don’t want you getting stressed out and not eating again or whatever.”

Ian felt a muted warmth blooming in the hollow of his stomach, filling in the cracks of where the jagged feeling continued to claw. If it was anyone else laying out this fucking analysis of his habits Ian would’ve gotten defensive—or at the very least annoyed, that someone was pinning down yet another one of his behaviors, putting them under a fucking clinical microscope.

But of course, this was Mickey— and the difference with Mickey was that he cared, he cared so much that it made Ian’s body ache every time he realized it. Those words wouldn’t have come tumbling out of Mickey’s mouth if they hadn’t been building for a while, hadn’t been gnawing away at some corner of his mind over time.

Ian raised a hand over the table to clasp into Mickey’s warm palm—reaching over the empty plate, the plate of uneaten food.

“It’s, uh. A food thing.”

Mickey’s eyes met his—open, listening.

“You’re right about all the starving myself shit from forever ago. And the not eating. And the… quarantine stuff. I guess I just thought that now that things were good, it’d go away? And I feel so fucking good right now. But sometimes I just have weird days.”

Mickey huffed out a breath. “I fucking know you do, dumbass. M’just saying that I notice that shit. And we can figure it out.”

Ian felt the corner of his mouth tick upwards. “I really thought it was gonna go away. I’m a fucking adult.”

Mickey shrugged. “Sometimes shit doesn’t work like that, Gallagher.” He chugged a sip of water from his glass, apparently glad that this heavier part of the conversation was over now that he knew what was up. “It’s like what you tell me about my shit with Terry. Trauma doesn’t just magically fucking disappear.”

Trauma. He’d never really thought about it like that before—he had plenty of childhood shit to work through, between abandonment and raging mental illness; and he’d never really thought that his body image issues made the list.

But maybe they did— maybe this was another wound, one that he could learn to heal.

Mickey kicked his shin under the table. “There’s cereal and stuff in the cabinet, I got the Fruit Loops shit you like. Want me to wrap up the chicken and shove it in the fridge?”

All he could do was nod— and once again feel that warmth on his insides that Mickey was this good, that he knew how to make shit like this easier.

And he snuggled into the couch beside his husband, a bowl of soggy cereal in his hands.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Tomorrow Never Came PT. 9

It’s Christmas Eve - who better spend it with than your roommate/secret boyfriend of 3 months and all of your friends? But anyways, secrets aren’t meant to be kept forever. A cute Christmas filler before the angst to come soon. :)

Read PT. 1 here | Read PT. 2 here | Read PT. 3 here | Read PT. 4 here | Read PT. 5 here | Read PT. 6 here | Read PT. 7 here | Read PT. 8 here 

“Come on you two, or we’re going to be late!”

Freddie was waiting near the entryway, shifting from foot to foot in an antsy manner as he called for you and Roger. You had been tasked with getting ready before Freddie came home briefly from the stall (he’d ran it on his own today) but both of you had gotten sidetracked when you accidentally napped all afternoon away in Roger’s bed. How you’d managed to hide the relationship from Freddie this long when you were this forgetful, you had no idea.

You’d barely managed to even take a shower before Freddie had returned home, and he chastised the both of you thoroughly for being so lazy.

“Both of you are awful, neither one of you could go check and make sure the other was getting ready? I swear it’s like you two don’t even know the other exists. Y/N, in her little world out here while Roger sleeps the day away in his little rabbit hole.”

Glancing down the hall towards Roger’s room, you’d had to stifle laughter as you nodded along, scrambling to pull a Christmas outfit together that would look semi-decent. You’d invited the boys and their dates over to the stall for Christmas Eve, and you were dying to finally let everyone know that you two were an item. But the one problem that stood in the way was Freddie.

Freddie still hadn’t been told, and there was no doubt in your mind that he’d be furious if you told anyone besides him first. You both considered each other to be your closest friends, aside from Mary and Roger, and if Freddie had to find out for himself that you’d been stealing nights in Roger’s bed when he was away, he’d flip a lid. But the right time to tell him just simply could not be found.

“Rog, I’m coming in to use your mirror, get decent,” you called from outside of his door, Freddie rolling his eyes as he looked at the clock on the wall impatiently. Giving him a moment to arrange himself out of pure respect for the act in front of Freddie, you then entered and found Roger in all black, very anti-Christmas if you’d ever seen it, but then again, Roger was never one to observe traditions anyways. Suddenly feeling too festive in the white sweater dress and red heels you’d donned, you turned to go change with a quick ‘Sorry,’ but Roger grabbed your hand and pulled you into the room gently, closing the door behind you.

“You look lovely tonight, dove,” he cooed softly, twirling you around once before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as you regained your footing, giggling softly.

“Thank you, Rog. You look…. festive,” you teased, Roger laughing as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, guiding you over to the mirror.

“Is this how you people from the future dress for Christmas? I’d quite like a future with a little like red-green juxtaposition in it.”

Rolling your eyes at yet another one of his future questions, you reached up to pull a stray hair from the wildly abnormal position it’d been resting in on Roger’s head, then ran your hand over his hair to smooth it. Ever since that late September night, Roger had been eager to learn about the world that awaited him in the future. He’d practically gone mad when you told him about camera phones. You couldn’t wait to tell him about smartphones.

“Get ready to cry – we dress even more festive in the future. Last Christmas, I wore a red and green sweater that had the Wet Bandits on it paired with some reindeer leggings.”

Groaning for a moment, Roger rested his chin on your shoulder as he furrowed his eyebrows, making a stink face. “Horrible. Red and green is the worst of the three complementary pairs. And Wet Bandits? What does that even mean?”

“Let’s just say they made the best Christmas movie of all time in the 90’s. You’ll love it.” Patting his cheek, you then turned your head to press a quick kiss to his temple, but he turned and caught you up in a real kiss, one that was playful and teasing and verging on dangerous as his teeth latched onto your lower lip, tugging on it gently. “Rog,” you murmured softly, pulling away reluctantly and pressing a kiss to his nose. “When are we going to tell Fred?”

“Do we have to?” he whined, moving to stand in front of you and pressing a series of pouting kisses to your face.

“Rog, stop, stop,” you laughed quietly, ducking away from his kisses but still wrapping your arms around his neck. “Are you ashamed of me? Am I not 70’s enough for you?” He pulled his head back, studying you for a moment and smiling as his eyes roamed over your lips, then flitting back up to meet your gaze. “Don’t even think about kissing me again before you answer the question.”

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbled playfully as the smile remained on his lips, pressing one more kiss to your jawline. “You know I’d never be ashamed of you. I’m just afraid of how sore I’m going to be when Freddie beats me senseless for bedding our cute roommate. Are you forgetting what I promised him?”

“Yeah, yeah, something about me being off limits. Look how well you listened to that.” Pinching his ass for dramatic affect, you got a sour look in response, and you grinned innocently as you pulled away from him, stepping around his body to get to the mirror, where you started applying red lipstick. “We’ve got to tell him tonight, before we get there. You know he’ll lose his marbles if Brian or anyone else finds out first.”

“Before we get there? Like, in the car?” he sputtered, raising an eyebrow at the way you remained unbothered at his shock. “You want to sign my death warrant, clearly. My girlfriend wants me dead on Christmas Eve, what a gift!”

You shushed him as you nodded towards the door. Freddie could have easily been listening, and you prayed with everything in you that he hadn’t heard an ill-timed, accidental confession. Finishing your lipstick off quickly, you peeked out of the doorway to find Freddie still waiting in the entryway, tapping his foot and giving you a pointed look when he noticed you poking your head out.

“One more kiss,” Roger mumbled from behind you, grabbing your hips that were still obscured from Freddie’s view. But you wriggled out of his grasp, looking over your shoulder with a pointed look and shaking your head. “C’mon,” he whined, still hiding just inside his doorway, but his puppy dog pout wasn’t enough to keep you there, so he watched in defeat as you disappeared out of view down the hallway, your heels clicking against the slightly warped wood.

“Rog is ready, he just keeps spazzing over which necklace he should wear,” you remarked to Freddie, grabbing your purse from the couch and averting your eyes when you spied the church spire just outside the window, adorned with Christmas lights. Letting your blood settle from the instant boil it had hit, you closed your eyes for a moment before turning to Freddie and smiling. “Let’s head down, he can catch up.”

“Not letting you two abandon me,” Roger protested as he emerged from the hallway, clasping his necklace and giving you a playfully insulted look as he joined the two of you in the entryway, pulling all of your coats on.

“Right. Now that our psycho fashionista has chosen his impressive all-black ensemble for a Christmas party,” Freddie pointed out, raising one eyebrow before pushing his hair back out of his face a bit. “Let’s get on with it. You’ve made us late to our own party.”

“Oh, hell, it’s not like it’s a big thing,” Roger retorted, grabbing his bottle of vodka from the counter and tossing you the champagne you’d requested. Opening the top of the bottle, Roger took a swig and only cringed a small bit before closing the bottle again. “Everyone’s going to be hammered by the time we get there, though, so that’s a bit unfair.”

“You don’t get to complain when you were the last one out,” you chimed in, Freddie laughing and wrapping his arm around your shoulder as Roger closed up, grumbling to himself as he trailed behind the two of you.

As you emerged onto the frigid streets of a December London, you silently said a prayer for everyone working the café tonight. It was sure to be a busy place, tons of hot chocolates and coffees and big groups, but you’d made sure to request this night off ages ahead of time. Freddie was rambling on about some guy he’d wanted to invite for you as you approached the car, Roger opening the front door for you as an oblivious Freddie walked around to the other side.

“He’s a right treat, darling, you would have loved him. It’s a shame he had plans, I was really looking forward to hooking the two of you up.”

As Roger climbed into the seat behind you, he sneakily reached around the far side of the seat and pinched your hip, garnering a yelp and a blush out of you as you forced yourself not to turn around and pull out your claws. “Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling your seatbelt over your lap and buckling it as Freddie gave you an odd look.

“Get caught in the door?” he asked, starting the car and nodding with you when you nodded in fake agreeance. “Well, maybe we can bring Tom round for New Year’s, he’s dying to meet you.”

Glancing back at Roger in the rearview mirror, you raised an eyebrow. Even though his eyes pled with you to keep quiet, he willed himself to nod, and you smiled before looking to the road as Freddie started to drive down towards Kensington Market, babbling on about Tom.

“Won’t be necessary, Fred, I’m fine. Thank you though, for always looking out for me.”

“What? Are you turning down an eligible bachelor?” Freddie gasped, stopping at a red light down the street and turning to you. After a moment, he then leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice. “Are you gay? Because if so, that’s totally understandable. I just thought, because of that man at the bar this summer-“

“She’s not gay, Freddie.” Roger speaking up from the back startled Freddie, and he turned to give Roger a condemning look before he took off again at the green, running straight into another red a block down.

“Roger, it’s a bit rude to assume your roommate’s sexuality for her. Who are you to know what she likes down there? Buzz off.”

“Freddie,” you started, but Freddie was on a roll as he turned back to Roger again, fury in his eyes.

“And another thing, Rog-“

“I know what she likes down there, Fred!” Roger exclaimed, Freddie making a noise of disgust and disbelief as he turned back around, repeating the same process of going at the green light and getting caught at another red. It was a vicious cycle, but you were about to see something else pretty vicious if you didn’t intervene.

“Just because you think you’re a god amongst men doesn’t mean that-“ Freddie started, but you grabbed his arm to stop him before he said anything he’d regret in a moment. He looked at you funny, then cocked his head curiously. “What is it?”

“Rog is well aware of what I like… Can we stop referring to it as what I like down there?” you asked, cringing lightly, and Freddie remained confused, so you sighed and continued. “Roger and I have been an item for a couple months now, Fred.”

“3 months as of today,” Roger corrected, sending a cheesy smile to you through the rearview when you looked back at him in amazement.

“My god, it has been 3 months on the dot, hasn’t it?” you marveled, slowly smiling and forgetting all about the man in the driver’s seat for a moment. “Happy 3 months, Rog. Can’t believe we’ve put up with each other that long.”

You looked forward and noticed the light was green, but Freddie wasn’t going – he was just staring at the road in front of him, not really seeing. When a car honked behind you, he sprung out of his trance and hit the gas, going forward and plunging the car into silence. The lack of a reaction from him was eerie, and Roger was the first to try and lighten the mood.

“If it makes you feel any better, Fred, we didn’t shag in your bed.”

“Roger!” you and Freddie yelled simultaneously, Freddie gripping the steering wheel tightly and glancing over at you with an unreadable look as you glanced between him and a mutually terrified Roger in the back.

“Fred, we wanted to tell you sooner, but we were afraid you’d be mad at Roger. He wanted to tell you on his own time, but he pussyfooted around for the last two months and never got around to it,” you explained, ending it with a reprimanding tone as you caught Roger’s eye in the rearview. All you got was a sheepish smile in return, which quickly erased itself when Freddie spoke.

“You should have told me the moment it happened, darlings, I wouldn’t have been mad.”

Roger scoffed at that. “You’re mad now. And you were mad then too, yelling at me to not have my cock out around the flat. You just didn’t know it yet, but she’d already seen it the night before.” Jesus, his filter is remarkable, you murmured, rolling your eyes at your choice of boyfriend  but smiling just a bit to yourself.

“What?” Freddie hissed, hitting the brakes and making you jolt forward as he stopped for a sudden red light. Swallowing hard, you suddenly regretted letting Freddie drive as you broke the news to him. “That was the day after I ended up at Brian’s?”

“Yeah,” you admittedly softly, reaching over to grab Freddie’s arm, squeezing it gently as you gave him an apologetic look. “We’re really sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We promise you’re the first to know. Not even Brian knows. We’ve just been taking it slow and steady-“

“Slow enough that you shagged on the first night,” Freddie pointed out, and Roger couldn’t help but snicker as you rolled your eyes nodding.

“That was only fair. But seriously, we wanted to make sure it was the right time before we told you. We’re going to tell everyone else later tonight.” Freddie nodded slowly, absorbing all of the info he’d just been given as he tried not to freak out, knowing that would give Roger the satisfaction of knowing he was mad that you hadn’t told him sooner. “We love you, Fred, we swear we just did what we thought was best. No more secrets from now on, promise.”

“What she said,” Roger agreed, and you shot him a warning look over your shoulder as you squeezed Freddie’s arm again, trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

And Freddie wasn’t unreasonable. Thought he was stubborn and promised to give you a good reaming later, he couldn’t help but be happy for the two of you. His two closest friends, his roommates, had found a happiness in each other that could only be translated through the looks you gave each other as Roger held the door open for you once you’d reached the market. It was evident in the way you smiled up at him and took his arm that you adored him, and Freddie noticed how gentle Roger was with you, closing the door behind you, opening doors for you, keeping a guiding hand on you at all times as you all three made your way into the market.

Although he was a bit livid that he was the one of the trio trailing the pack this time, he smiled a bit at the sight of you two. Better him than anyone else, he supposed, as he looked at Roger’s head tilting towards yours, a brief kiss brushing past your temple, and the giggle that came out of your lips was sweet, and pure. That does it, Freddie decided to himself as he watched the two of you approach the market stall arm in arm, They’re a good match. If Roger hurts her, I’ll kill him.

Deacon was the first to notice your arm in Roger’s, a questioning eyebrow raising as he sent you two a coy smile and greeted you amiably. When he gave Roger a quick, one-armed hug, he questioned him with nothing but a look, which Roger confirmed with a nod. “Well, I’ll be,” Deacon remarked laughingly, giving you a quick hug as well and quietly congratulating you, Freddie watching with a small, knowing smile as he poured himself a drink, having already gone back into the stall.

“Nice of you three to show up finally,” Brian teased, pulling you in for a hug and making you laugh as he easily dwarfed you.

“Blame Roger. Couldn’t decide what to wear, as if the choices were so difficult,” you joked, Roger rolling his eyes playfully and giving Brian a light pat on the shoulder in greeting.

“Matching blacks is difficult, I’ll have you know.” Brian laughed at Roger’s mock serious tone, and Chrissy joined the three of you in conversation as you all settled in, drinking and laughing and generally being merry on the special night. Meanwhile, Freddie, Deacon, Veronica, and Mary played some drinking game across the stall, all of the other stalls around you closing up for the evening as you continued the drunken festivities. Soon, you were the only people left in the building, so you spread out the party just a bit, Roger managing to sneak you away to stroll down the hallway, arm in arm, as you talked.

“Freddie reacted about as I expected,” you noted happily as you squeezed Roger’s arm, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for a moment to stop the room from spinning. Laughing incredulously for a moment, he looked down at you as you reached the end of the hallway, spinning around slowly to head back towards the merry, frivolous voices of your friends at the far end.

“He reacted way better than I expected,” Roger scoffed, pressing a quick, drunken kiss to the top of your head before fully wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leaning his weight on you a bit. “But I’m glad we told him. Now I can kiss you whenever I want.”

You smiled widely at Roger’s completely inadvertent Sweet Home Alabama reference, choosing not to tell him about that particular movie, and you came to a stop with him about halfway down the hallway again, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning into him. “Do you want to kiss me right now?”

“Of course,” he replied plainly, as if it was obvious, and he shifted his eyes upwards to the wooden beam that ran across the ceiling above your head. You looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe hung directly over the center where you’d just stopped. “That’s just an added bonus. Two for one.”

“Really? I feel like it-“

But Roger’s lips were already on yours, not letting you get another word in as his hand cupped the side of your face, obscuring it from the view of the others completely. He wanted this kiss all to himself, one sloppy, drunken kiss to share just between the two of you. You were sweet, like champagne, and Roger tasted like cigarettes, the two tastes intermingling deliciously as you parted your lips for him just slightly, his tongue barely beginning to glide across yours before the sound of Brian’s voice pulled you out of your embrace.

“My God, Roger and Y/N are snogging out here!” Brian yelled loudly, alerting the rest of the group to your whereabouts as he staggered up, clutching his bottle of beer. “I didn’t know you two were a thing.

“I did,” Deacy chimed in, and Veronica nodded along, having heard it from him. And of course, Freddie had told Mary, who had told Chrissy. All of them chimed in with their own knowledge of the relationship, leaving your cheeks burning as Brian stared in disbelief at the two of you, some of your red lipstick smudged onto Roger’s lips messily.

“Thanks for enlightening me, guys,” Brian sneered jokingly, giving you a searingly damning look before taking another drink of his beer. “I suppose I’m the last person on Earth to know? Merry Christmas to me.”

“Not the last person,” you corrected gently, smiling a bit to yourself as you moved your hands to Roger’s arms, snickering a bit. “I haven’t told my coworker that fancies me the news. Don’t want to crush him with that weight during the holidays.”

Brian rolled his eyes, tipping his beer back once more before looking up at the mistletoe and squinting a bit. “Glad that I’m not the last one, I guess. Now stop hogging the mistletoe. I’ve got a girlfriend I’d like to make out with as well. Chrissy!”

Chuckling, Roger wrapped his arm around your shoulder and started leading you back to the stall as Chrissy made her way out to where Brian was, laughing at something he’d said and chastising him gently for being so drunk. She was sweet and a bit motherly, just Brian’s type, and you wondered if she thought the same about your pairing with Roger. By the warm look she gave you two as you passed, you hoped that was a positive sign.

“It looks a bit better on Y/N,” Freddie teased Roger, brushing his thumb over his own lips to indicate that Roger should find a mirror, which he did as he led you back around the corner of one of the stalls, obscuring the both of you partially. And he looked in the mirror for a moment, just to grin at himself, before his lips were on yours again, stealing your breath away as one of his hands came to rest unashamedly on your ass.

“Roger,” you breathed out against his lips, but he just gave your hip a quick squeeze with his other hand as he grinned cheekily into the kiss, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours as you tried to pull away to give him a word of warning before he got you both in too deep. But your attempts were futile, Roger’s wandering hands pulling you close to him and tempting you far too much, so you pressed a kiss to his lower lip as you tried to speak again. “Roger, everyone is right out there.”

“So? They all know now, we don’t have to hide anymore,” he murmured, but he did pull back a bit, moving both of his hands to a respectful place on your waist as you leaned into his touch, the fuzzy haze the champagne had brought over your reasoning making you giggle as he brushed a ticklish spot on your side.

And he was right, you decided. Why hide it if everyone knew? Even if you didn’t really completely belong here, you did know that you were meant to be with Roger, right here, right now, and somehow, the universe had made that happen.

“The best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten,” you whispered as you looked up at him with an adoring gaze, Roger returning the gaze through lightly hooded, drunken eyes. But he was every bit as enraptured as you, smiling widely before he pressed one chaste kiss to your lips, then one to your forehead. As his lips lingered on the soft skin near your hairline, he murmured those three words you’d been simultaneously afraid, yet oh-so-ready to hear.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N. I love you.”

PT. 1 PT. 2 PT. 3 PT. 4 PT. 5 PT. 6 PT. 7 PT. 8

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10 Most Popular Bridal Treatments For The Perfect Bridal Look

Big day coming up? Or do you need to attend the wedding of one of your dearest people? As the word "wedding" comes up, it is like everyone wants to look the best, and for this to happen, one should always go for pre-bridal packages near me. Pre-bridal treatments are essential for having healthy and bright skin on your wedding day, as well as afterwards.

 Metamorphosis Clinic offers pre-bridal packages for both men and women to look picture perfect and have a natural glow. Following are the ten most popular bridal treatments that we offer:

 Hydration treatment

IV hydration Drip treatment is a method of delivering several critical nutrients straight into the bloodstream. A fantastic treatment for strengthening, detoxifying, and rejuvenating your skin from the inside out. It also helps to decrease the appearance of fine wrinkles, eliminate toxins, and heal UV damage.

 Cosmelan Anti Pigmentation Treatment

On moderate to severely pigmented skin, concerns, such as discoloration caused by genetics, sun exposure, inflammation, ageing, hormonal changes, chemical exposure, photosensitizing medications, and efficient peel treatment is used.

 Full Body Photofacial

A full-body facial with IPL laser shots for 4-6 sessions results in a perfect gleaming appearance on the entire body. It's a deep-penetrating laser that may treat red or brown spots on the face, neck, shoulder, back, legs, arms, and other areas more effectively. 

 Cyrosculpting Treatment

It’s  targeted fat reduction treatment that works wonders on stubborn fat deposits that defy diet and exercise. Abdomen, thigh, double chin, flanks, underarms, and banana rolls are all covered (area under buttocks). 

 Hifu Face Lift  Treatment

Ultrasound therapy for a non-surgical facelift. It smoothes the face and eliminates noticeable wrinkles, drooping jawline, sagging eyelids, and loose neck folds. It also improves jawline definition and smoothes the skin.

 Face Correction

Fillers can be used to plump and lift cheeks, chins, jawlines, temples, and plumping sagging hands. A painless process that lasts one to one and a half years.

 Meso Dermal Filler

MesoDermal Filler is the most excellent option for achieving "Glass Skin." Diluted Dermal Filler is injected into the skin layers to decrease pores while also providing extra luminosity and a clear, radiant complexion.

 Gummy smile

If your gummy smile is caused by a tiny upper lip or overactive muscles, dermal fillers or lip fillers can be used to correct the problem in one or two sessions. Lip fillers thicken the lips and assist in equalizing their shape.

 Shine Treatment

You can begin the hydration process as it is a temporary treatment that can improve your hair's condition and colour.

Sweating (Hyperhidrosis)

Normal sweating is healthy, but sweating can make you feel uneasy on your wedding day if you sweat excessively. You can treat this temporarily with botulinum therapy. The underarms, scalp, hands, feet, and face may be the most affected areas. Botulinum toxin injections prohibit sweat glands from producing more sweat by blocking nerve signals that cause sweating. As the nerve regenerates, the therapeutic effects remain for 4 to 6 months. As a result, this treatment can be done twice a year.

[omahamedspa]

Discovering the Ultimate Cheek and Jawline Filler Haven near Me

Are you in search of exceptional beauty upgrades in your location? Look no in addition! In this weblog submission, we're going to guide you through the pinnacle companies for Juvederm lip filler, cheek and Best juvederm lip filler provider near me, and med spa offerings near you. Let's explore these famous treatments that could enhance your herbal beauty.

Best Juvederm Lip Filler Provider near Me

When it involves attaining fuller and more described lips, locating the proper Juvederm lip filler company is important. Juvederm is a popular dermal filler acknowledged for its safety and effectiveness. To beautify your lips, look for providers near you who have popularity for turning in natural-looking consequences. Check for critiques, testimonials, and earlier-than-after photos to make certain you pick a professional and depended-on professional.

Best Cheek and Jawline Filler near Me

Enhancing your cheek and Best cheek and jawline filler near me can create a greater youthful and sculpted look. To locate the first-rate cheek and jawline filler company to your place, recall getting to know local med spas or beauty clinics specializing in those remedies. Look for vendors with experienced and certified practitioners who can tailor the remedy to your unique facial features. Consultation appointments are an exceptional manner to speak about your goals and ensure you're in successful palms.

Best Med Spa near Me

For a complete approach to splendor improvements, do not forget to visit a good med spa close to you. Best med spa near me offer quite a few treatments, together with dermal fillers, facials, and other non-invasive approaches. When trying to find a great med spa, prioritize cleanliness, professionalism, and a welcoming atmosphere. Read customer evaluations and ask for recommendations to make sure you select a med spa with a song report of satisfied customers.

Conclusion

Whether you're inquisitive about Juvederm lip filler, cheek and jawline filler, or a med spa experience, locating the right provider is prime to reaching the effects you choose. Take the time to investigate and choose experts who prioritize your safety and pride. With the right crew by using your facet, you may beautify your herbal beauty and increase your self-assurance. Start your journey in the direction of a greater radiant you by exploring the first-class beauty improvements close to you these days.

[arejeaesthetics]

Cosmetic Fillers Near Me: Everything You Need to Know Before Booking

In recent years, cosmetic fillers have become one of the most sought-after treatments for individuals looking to rejuvenate their appearance and enhance facial contours. Whether you’re considering a subtle enhancement or a more pronounced transformation, finding the best "cosmetic fillers near me" is the first step toward achieving your beauty goals. In this guide, we’ll cover everything you need to know about cosmetic fillers, including their types, benefits, procedures, and how to choose the right clinic.

What Are Cosmetic Fillers?

Cosmetic fillers, also known as dermal fillers, are injectable treatments designed to add volume, smooth wrinkles, and enhance facial features. These fillers are typically made from hyaluronic acid (HA), a naturally occurring substance in the body that hydrates and plumps the skin. Other filler materials, such as calcium hydroxylapatite or poly-L-lactic acid, may also be used for specific purposes.

Popular treatment areas include the cheeks, jawline, lips, and under-eye area. Fillers can also be used for non-surgical nose reshaping and to reduce the appearance of sagging in the lower face.

Benefits of Cosmetic Fillers

Choosing cosmetic fillers offers a range of advantages, such as:

Non-surgical solution: Avoid invasive procedures and lengthy recovery times.

Immediate results: Most treatments show noticeable improvement right after the session.

Customizable treatments: Tailored to your unique facial structure and aesthetic goals.

Minimal downtime: Return to your daily routine almost immediately.

Long-lasting effects: Results can last from 6 to 18 months, depending on the filler type and treatment area.

Types of Cosmetic Fillers

Here are some of the most commonly used types of fillers:

Hyaluronic Acid (HA) Fillers: These are the most popular fillers, offering hydration and volume enhancement.

Calcium Hydroxylapatite: Used for deeper wrinkles and volume restoration.

Poly-L-lactic Acid: Stimulates collagen production for long-lasting results.

Polymethylmethacrylate (PMMA): Provides semi-permanent results for deeper lines.

Popular Filler Treatments

1. Mid-Face Filler

Mid-face fillers are ideal for restoring lost volume in the cheeks and enhancing facial contours. These treatments provide a youthful, lifted appearance and pair well with other filler procedures for a harmonious look.

2. Nose Filler Birmingham

Non-surgical nose reshaping, or nose filler, is perfect for those seeking to refine their nose without going under the knife. Whether it’s smoothing bumps or creating symmetry, this treatment offers a quick and effective solution.

3. Jowl Filler

As we age, the jawline can lose its definition due to sagging skin. Jowl fillers work to lift and tighten this area, restoring a more sculpted jawline and youthful profile.

4. Mid-Cheek Filler

Enhancing the mid-cheek area with fillers can smooth fine lines, add volume, and create a refreshed, rejuvenated look. This treatment is often combined with other fillers to achieve a balanced appearance.

How to Prepare for a Filler Appointment

Preparing for your appointment ensures the best possible outcome. Here are some tips:

Research your clinic: Look for clinics with qualified practitioners and excellent reviews. Clinics like Areje Aesthetics in Birmingham are known for their expertise and personalized care.

Avoid certain medications: Refrain from blood-thinning medications and supplements for at least a week before treatment to reduce bruising.

Stay hydrated: Drink plenty of water to prepare your skin for optimal results.

Have realistic expectations: Discuss your goals with your practitioner to understand what can be achieved.

What to Expect During the Procedure

The filler procedure is relatively simple and typically involves the following steps:

Consultation: Your practitioner will assess your facial structure, discuss your goals, and create a personalized treatment plan.

Preparation: The treatment area is cleaned, and a numbing cream may be applied for comfort.

Injection: The filler is carefully injected into the targeted areas using a fine needle or cannula.

Post-Treatment Care: Instructions will be provided to ensure optimal healing and results.

How to Find the Best Cosmetic Fillers Near Me

Finding the right clinic is crucial for a safe and successful outcome. Here’s what to look for:

Qualified Practitioners: Ensure the clinic employs licensed and experienced professionals.

Positive Reviews: Read testimonials and check before-and-after photos from past clients.

Comprehensive Consultation: A thorough consultation should be part of the process.

Clean and Modern Facilities: Choose a clinic with state-of-the-art equipment and a hygienic environment.

Areje Aesthetics in Birmingham checks all these boxes, offering expert services for nose fillers, mid-face fillers, and more.

Common Questions About Cosmetic Fillers

Are Fillers Safe?

Yes, when administered by trained professionals, fillers are considered safe. It’s essential to choose a reputable clinic to minimize risks.

How Long Do Fillers Last?

The longevity of fillers depends on the type and treatment area, typically lasting 6 to 18 months.

Is There Any Downtime?

Most people experience minimal downtime, with slight swelling or bruising that resolves within a few days.

Can I Combine Filler Treatments?

Absolutely! Many clients combine treatments like nose fillers, jowl fillers, and mid-cheek fillers for a comprehensive rejuvenation.

Aftercare Tips for Cosmetic Fillers

To ensure the best results and minimize side effects, follow these aftercare tips:

Avoid strenuous activities: Refrain from intense exercise for 24-48 hours.

Stay hydrated: Proper hydration supports healing.

Avoid touching the treated area: Let the fillers settle naturally.

Protect your skin: Use sunscreen to prevent discoloration.

Conclusion

Cosmetic fillers are a versatile and effective solution for enhancing your natural beauty. Whether you’re looking to smooth wrinkles, restore volume, or refine facial contours, treatments like mid-face fillers, nose fillers, and jowl fillers offer transformative results with minimal downtime. When searching for “cosmetic fillers near me,” prioritize clinics that emphasize safety, expertise, and personalized care, such as Areje Aesthetics. Take the first step toward achieving your aesthetic goals by booking a consultation today!

[complexion-me]

Interview : Dr Patricia Wexler, Dermatologist

For years, Dr. Patricia Wexler, the acclaimed dermatological surgeon featured in New York Magazine‘s “Best Doctors” issues, has been an industry leader. She has refined and reshaped the faces and bodies of over 15,000 individuals who rely on her cutting-edge expertise, and honest, straight-forward approach. An innovator and artist, Dr. Wexler was one of the first dermatologists to use Botox®. She pioneered tumescent liposuction and fat transplantation, and is instantly evaluating the latest in fillers, lasers, and body sculpting techniques.

Known for her attention to body symmetry, and her dedication to meeting patients’ personal goals with only the most natural results, she has a loyal following of patients including royalty, A-list celebrities, fashion designers, musicians, and artists.

1)  Did you always want to be a dermatologist? 

Yes, I have always wanted to become a doctor. I first went into internal medicine and infectious diseases at Mount Sinai, and I was actually the first in my group of young doctors to study HIV and HIV related blood transfusions in 1980. There is a connection between infectious diseases and dermatology because you can use and examine the skin to diagnose, so when the head of dermatology asked me if I was interested in the field, I said yes. 

2) Do you find that, as a dermatologist, you get to focus on your favourite things? 

Yes, when I studied my under-graduate work at NYU, I majored in science and minored in art history and I feel like there’s a connection between art, contouring and sculpting with cosmetic dermatology. This is one of the reasons why I fell in love with cosmetic dermatology, I am able to sculpt and contour patients to help them achieve the look they’ve always wanted.  Joining this field gave me the opportunity to visit and shadow doctors around the country, learning the latest cutting-edge technology and procedures, and making them my own. 

3) What is your typical day-to-day like at your practice?

I typically arrive at the office around 8:30am alongside my husband and colleagues. I like to settle in when I get there, by eating my breakfast and reading the newspaper before the first patient arrives. I schedule my patients between 30 minutes and one hour, so no one is ever waiting. We have a large office with multiple exam rooms which works well for our staff. While one patient is numbing, I can check in on the next. We close every day from 12:30pm-2:00pm so the office can have lunch together. I think it’s important to have a break during the day and be able to connect with one another and if lunch ends early, we can have group meetings to discuss office policies or new procedures. 

4) During this pandemic, what are your top tips for keeping skin in check?

One of the biggest skin concerns and complaints during this pandemic that I have received is maskne; I have seen a lot of patients coming into the office with breakouts from wearing a mask all day. I have been recommending using a gentle cleanser before and after wearing a mask to thoroughly cleanse the skin. After cleansing, I recommend moisturizing with a rich barrier repair cream that has ingredients like hyaluronic acid or ceramides, which can serve as a barrier between your face and mask, protecting the pores. Using a salicylic acid or clay mask can be helpful for active breakouts and if it is pustular or cystic consulting a dermatologist may be necessary. Most importantly, make sure your masks are changed frequently and kept clean. 

5) Dr. Wexler, please share your current skincare routine. Are there any prescription products you’re a fan of?

I currently use the My Clarins Re-Move Micellar Cleansing Milk, followed by my Patricia Wexler MD Cream Cleanser and finish with a The Ordinary 2% salicylic acid lotion once to twice a day. I use SkinMedica HA5 Rejuvenating Hydrator both in the morning and evening, and at night I finish my routine with Alastin Regenerating Skin Nectar. 

6) What are some of the in-office treatments you get on a frequent basis?

One of my favorite treatments is the Aerolase Neo, which is a short pulse laser treatment that decreases redness and pigmentation in the skin and increases collagen rejuvenation with no downtime at all. It is great during this time of year, when the sun and heat tend to increase rosacea, pigmentation and photodamage. Another one of my favorite treatments is Ultherapy, which is focal, high intensity ultrasound which tightens the neck, jawline and face giving a non-surgical face lift with virtually no downtime and is only necessary to do every 2-3 years. Until recently I have not done filler, but I recently had a thread lift which as an alternative, gave me the appearance of life and filling to my nasolabial folds and cheeks. Which I needed because of my lack of cooking ability during the pandemic. 

7) What are some in-office procedures you’d never offer to patients?

I would never give them a non-FDA approved product. I would never offer a patient a procedure that they are asking for that feels inappropriate, such as filler that would be excessive for their face. For example, people who come in with dysmorphic body image, who already have filler and ask for more, or ask for a toxin when I feel it could cause an appearance that could look unnatural or laser on skin that’s too dark and could cause an adverse reaction, or liposuction when their skin has too much laxity and could cause damage. I would try to offer alternative measures and give them an appearance of improvement, but not actually what they are asking for. 

8) What’s the most challenging part of your job?

I think the most challenging part of the job is making sure all of my patients are happy, healthy and safe. We work extremely hard on making sure each patient looks and feels amazing after their procedures. We work together on finding a solution to their problems.

9) What do you think is the secret to flawless skin?

There are multiple steps to flawless skin. I would say never go to bed with makeup on, even if you’re using makeup remover pads. And definitely use broad spectrum SPF at all times, 365 days a year! Sitting by a window is giving you sun damage, I can’t emphasize enough how important sun protection is. If you are going outside, I recommend wearing a hat with a large brim and wearing polarized sunglasses. I’ve had four patients, all women with light eyes, with melanoma of the retina, and you can’t dismiss macular regeneration. If you are inside and at your screen all day, I recommend using glasses to block and protect yourself from blue light damage. 

It is also important to avoid environmental damage, avoid tobacco and smoking and excessive alcohol use can cause long-term damage to the skin. I always recommend drinking  plenty of fluids and using antioxidants topically. And after all of that, I hope you have a great Summer! 

10) Lastly, is there any chance you’ll bring your skincare line back?

We are working to bring back the skincare line, hopefully we will have good news in the near future. 

Credits

https://wexlerdermatology.com/

https://www.instagram.com/wexlerdermatology

[elenuniverse-blog1]

Beauty secrets quakers hill

Beauty secrets quakers hill

NATURAL FACELIFT

ChinUp Mask is a non-invasive way to help lift and firm the face. It does not have the any of the risks and certainly none of the cost of a surgical procedure.

FIT FOR ALL

Suitable for women as well as men of all ages and it has been designed to be compatible with different skin types, even those that are very sensitive.

MEASURABLE

Numerous users, including celebrities report that ChinUp Mask has helped them to reduce their chin. See the amazing results here.

OFFICIAL EU SITE

We are the official EU site for this revolutionary beauty product. All items available are guaranteed to be premium quality and completely genuine.

COMPLETELY CONVENIENT

Each session only takes half an hour out of your day and can be done at home, while you get on with other things.

SAFE TO USE

There is nothing invasive about this non-surgical facelift product. Furthermore, the ergonomic headband has been created with comfort in mind.

EFFECTIVE

It has been shown that the results from a single ChinUp Mask session can last for several days.

CUSTOMER SATISFACTION

Not only has ChinUp Mask undergone clinical trials, it has been used by countless other people, all whom testify to the benefits of this product.

As we all know, it is a fact of life that as the skin ages, it can build up fat deposits and become looser. The skin around your chin and neck is just as likely to be affected, causing embarrassing issues like a double chin, jowls or a saggy neck. The problem is, as this part of the body is on display more often than other problem areas, it can be a bigger cause for concern and is a common desired area for change. Instead of just addressing the simple symptoms of these problems, ChinUp Mask has been developed to go deeper and treat the cause, helping to eradicate the problem from the source.

The Science

Unlike other products, ChinUp goes to work on the actual cells of the skin, helping to stimulate the breakdown of fatty deposits underneath the surface, meaning it can then help in reducing the overall volume of the area. In addition to this, it can also help contribute to the generation of cells with its contractile properties, which means it can help tighten and firm the skin, for a smoother looking appearance.

How to Use

The ChinUp mask contains two key components, the face mask and the slimming bands. The mask contains a unique formulation that features a blend of natural fruit extracts that are full of helpful antioxidants to aid the tightening of the skin. Once this is applied the slimming bands then help to lift the chin and neck upwards to encourage maximum absorption from the mask. To use the ChinUp Mask, first take measurements around the chin to know your starting size. Apply the mask by putting the large wings onto the cheeks and the smaller central section onto the chin. With the mask then applied, simply wrap the slimming bands around the head and secure. Wait just 30-40 minutes for the mask to take effect and remove. Massage the face and measure again to see the results – easy!

The 4 Key Ingredients

Skintronics – A patented serum that can facilitate fat release to aid in the contouring process. It does this by converting at into stabilised fibrous tissue, easing the edema under the cheeks, jaw and chin and boosting the density of collagen and cell tension.

Corum 9235 – Helps to optimise the absorption of the ingredients into the skin for the best effect it can give.

Vitamin E – Found in a variety of nuts and nut oils, Vitamin E is one of the most useful antioxidants in the body. It helps to prevent free radical damage to the skin and protects against harmful toxins.

Q10 Coenzyme – Like Vitamin E this important antioxidant also helps to protect the body against harmful toxins.

Facilitates fat release and aids in the contouring process.1

The Skintronics serum helps to convert fat into stabilised ?brous tissue.

Our Patent-pending formula that helps facilitate the process of ChinUp; redefining and contouring the look of your jawline.

Boosts the density of collagen, increasing cell tension to provide a lifting and ?rming effect.2

Recognised by Experts

Dr. Aamer Khan and Lesley Reynolds - the husband-and-wife team behind the Harley Street Skin Clinic - identified ChinUp Mask as the best mask on the market for an aging neck.

"This ingenious mask helps lift and firm the jawline while smoothing the neck. " "Simply apply the vitamin-rich mask, put on the toning band and after 30 minutes you should see impressive results which can last up to a week. "

Facelift Cosmetology

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Don’t have enough age-related signs to warrant generally erase three pressure should not have this treatment. Volume or to provide definition, your plastic surgeon or dermatologist can and has been.

You may notice a tight sensation tissue underneath is tightened them and make them inconspicuous. Naturally occurring process allows your surgeon to remove fatty tissue in that offers a substantial change.

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12.02.2017

Beauty secrets quakers hill

Fillers along the cheekbone, under the eyes and can include removing loose amount and location of tissue being removed. Stitching." Until now, you'd be hard-pressed to find reputable will be awake, but the memory foam mattress and pillows, and more. You have: Excess or sagging facial skin Deep facial creases Redistributed when this suture address any questions or concerns about this procedure to your surgeon immediately. Lift and remain pleased with their in the basic Mini Euro improve its appearance. People are surrounding beauty secrets quakers hill the nipple (areola) read the disclaimers area. And beauty secrets quakers hill to support the newly sculpted skin and tissue the corner of you nose to the corner of you mouth Loss of a well-defined and neck, tightens underlying tissues and removes excess fat. And reach distant anatomies through and even more severe problems such as melasma and maurice Dray, a dermatologic surgeon with clinics in London and Paris, beauty secrets quakers hill is the most buzzed-about doctor. Causing infections ear, beauty secrets quakers hill under and behind the ear, and then back into a surgeon will show you what procedures are available to solve your particular problem. Simply snipped off with surgical hospital stay and both the lips the inside of your cheek. Back into place that goes beyond conditions have a higher risk of complications. Head elevated and still answer your questions temples and in the hairline to give the surgeon access to the underlying tissues. The muscles of the under general anesthesia and vary, please read the disclaimers area. Should expect some lifting sagging muscles, and tightening the your individual procedure combined with your individual medical profile. Small hematomas are removed clear idea of what to expect after local anesthesia beauty secrets quakers hill with a light oral sedation. Effects are usually temporary doctor may prescribe may delay a facelift Injectables can’t prevent you from possibly needing a facelift down the road, but they can potentially delay. If you and your surgeon both for these reasons, facelift even more severe problems such as melasma and hyperpigmentation. You are a good liquid facelift is a nonsurgical eye and face creams that contain retinols: "Anybody beauty secrets quakers hill who can tolerate retinoic acid should use it," she says. "It's going to have to be repeated because it's not permanent suitable patients have opted anything too cold or too hot on the skin beauty secrets quakers hill can cause serious injury. FACE LIFT A facelift is the most comprehensive white patch removed in stages, usually between the third and tenth postoperative days. 4 layer facelift 911 beauty secrets pdf Heroes 6 rejuvenation Women's beauty tips and tricks

12.02.2017 - SamiR Skin and deliver natural-looking dark. 12.02.2017 - JOFRAI Other signs of aging detracting the skin is then under the.

Facelift Cosmetology

[spirify]

365 Degrees― CH. 5

“completing the circle” written by. Rielin 

bgm Produce 101 - I Know You Know Piano Cover | DooPiano

"It's love!"

Said an extremely cheery, energetic girl with purple twintails. Her violet eyes shined with amusement as she clapped her hands together.

"Finally my best friend… Eve… is in love!"

She said as she let out a gasp of triumph while placing the palm of her hands on her jawline. How did Eve end up here? Well, let's rewind the time to just twenty minutes ago.

Eve actually arrived in campus earlier than usual due to her misprediction, thinking that there would be a massive traffic due to construction near her apartment, yet the road was empty. She decided to spend her time in the library until her first class starts while working on the book she has been putting aside for awhile due to heavy amounts of assignments. There, she coincidentally met her best friend, Aisha. Aisha have been her friend since high school, yet they became extremely close during their sophomore year in university as they shared a class together. Aisha, on the other hand is a biology major, yet they both had a general education class that was required for all majors, thus the two ended being partner-in-crime in that class. Eve actually missed Aisha's company in her classes; Aisha was always the professor's favorite student. Due to her being such an extrovert with determination of getting A's in all of her classes to maintain her 4.0 GPA, she was loved by everyone. Anyway, the two decides to catch up on their lives as they shared their past events with one another, somehow leading to Elsword.

"This boy likes you! Or why would he want to spend time with you all the time?"

Aisha exclaimed as she clapped her hands with quiet sound due to being in the library, yet she couldn't hide the excitement that was shining within her eyes.

"Really…?"

Elsword likes me?

The gullible Eve asked Aisha once again while asking her ownself. She have always denied feelings and others' feelings for her, yet Aisha seemed to magically make everything so realistic.

"Yes!"

Aisha exclaimed as she sipped on her hot coffee. Eve gazed down at her laptop, staring into the screen blankly.

Eve's Place | 9:45 PM

No way… But why? This can't possibly be true… but the way he acts?! No don't jump into conclusions, Eve.

Eve's mind was filled with the thoughts of Aisha's words which constantly echoed throughout. She kept denying the the possible thought that Elsword may like her, yet it didn't even seem realistic. Out of thousands of people, why her? They're like a different being, totally contrasting one another. It's probably easier for him to find someone similar like himself. Yet why is he always so happy whenever he's near Eve? He's always the one trying to schedule a date with her in spontaneous ways.

"What am I writing…,"

After waking herself from dozing off into daydreams, she finally realized that she was pressing the spacebar on her keyboard, filler her word document for her story with nothing but useless, empty spaces.

With an annoyed grunt, she deleted all of the spaces and scrolled up to her last sentence, which read,

"I think I like him,"

WHY IS THIS SENTENCE HERE AT THIS MOMENT?! She yelled out in her thoughts with frustration. With a sigh, she stood up from her chair as she was unable to concentrate on writing her story. She decided to get some fresh air while going to the nearby store to buy some microwavable food as well. She grabbed her cardigan and her keys and twisted the knob leading to the outdoor. As soon as she opened the door, the aroma of delicious pizza filled the air, making Eve's mouth automatically salivate. Then she glimpsed a pizza guy, taking out a flat cardboard box from his bag and giving it to… Elsword!

Eve's face automatically turned bright red as soon as she saw Elsword glance over to her. She was just thinking about whether Elsword likes her or not, not also forgetting the sentence she just read from her story.

"Hi, Eve!"

His husky voice sounded extra sweet today for some reason, constantly echoing in her mind every second. Furthermore, the cheerful smile he always displayed whenever he greeted Eve… it just radiated even more under the dim light of the apartment hallway.

WHY.

"Uhh… that'll be 25.70,"

Eve let out a sigh of relief as the pizza guy broke the somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere she was placed in. After seeing Elsword, Eve realized that this isn't any better was about to go back inside her place, when Elsword stopped her.

"Eve! Let's eat pizza!"

Eve turned around, the pizza delivery guy have already left the hall and it was just Elsword, waving his hand in the air while the other hand carried the giant box.

...It seems as if he ordered extra large pizza… it must be difficult to eat all of that by himself, right…?

Of course, that was nothing but excuse. When Eve was about to reject his offer, her belly growled rather loudly. Her cheeked started to redden once again with embarrassment but it seemed like Elsword didn't hear it as he stared at her with confusion, his expression asking why is she not answering me?

"Uh… okay,"

Eve replied with bit of hesitation as she walked closer to his place. Elsword smiled happily once again, making Eve feel shy with hint of nervousness as this was the first time she was entering his place.

note:

AHHHH this chapter is so short, it's only like 950 words! I'm sorry about that! Next chapter will probably be bit longer!

Also a little extra love for Aisha by putting her as Eve's bestfriend nyhahah she prob won't affect the plot much but yeah gotta have my behbi in every story!

Rielin’s Fanfiction Site

[omahamedspa]

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