#barber clippers set

[certifiedclippers]

Mastering the Art of Clipper Over Comb: Techniques and Tips for Barbers

Mastering clipper over comb is essential for anyone aspiring to be a professional hairstylist. It is a common technique that most hairstylists know and use often. The barber cuts close to the hairline and head using the clipper over comb function. It works best when cutting a shorter hairstyle, much closer to the head. The clipper and comb contribute to the hairstyle in their unique ways. The clipper gives a more precise look while using a comb, providing a softer feel.

The clippers and combs styling method is used when cutting at the nape of the neck or the side areas. It helps with getting the desired style and shape. The clipper is for precision cutting, and the comb helps lift and prepare the hair for the cut. This is an art that most professional stylists master after several practices.

Let’s look at some ways you can apply this technique to your hairstyles:

Positioning and Angle:

The use of hands is imperative in this technique. The hair-cutting clippers should be in your dominant hand. The comb should be held in your less dominant hand. Using the comb, lift the hair to a 90-degree angle against the scalp. Using the clippers, the barber cuts the hair above the comb. The area you are cutting hair from also controls the angle and the type of style intended. Blending the top with shorter hair at the nape of the neck, angling the comb and clipper, and narrowing it closer to the skin will give that effect.

Clippers and Combs Together:

Why do you need two tools when you can achieve the hairstyle only using your barber clipper set? The function of the comb is not just to lift hair off the scalp but also to guide how the hair is being cut. The job of the clipper is to cut off the excess hair, pulled up via the comb. Depending on the hairstyle, you can set the clipper guard to a specific length if desired. The comb and clippers are moved in tandem motion while cutting hair and creating a beautiful finish.

Precision and Control:

The clipper-over-comb technique is a mastery most barbers need to acquire through years of practice. What also helps you gain confidence is the use of professional clippers that you can choose from. Choosing the right grip and controls on your clippers will help with precise cutting, smooth blends, and desired textures.

Mastering the clipper-over comb techniques involves a few tips:

Choosing the right professional barber clippers is imperative since every barber has their style.

High-quality best hair clippers can be bought online or from a professional barber store. Get your facts right about the clipper you intend to use. Always choose to invest in a professional barber’s tool.

Practice and observation are essential to master this technique. Watch videos of professionals and continue to practice and experiment.

Certified Clippers is a fantastic online place dedicated to professional hairstylists. Listed online are some of the best hair clippers preferred by professionals. These are great to practice with and master the art of clippers over comb technique.

[prophetmutual]

cutting my own hair is so fun i love looking jacked as fuck (100% serious)

[onefite]

Top Benefits of Using YiLFo Hair Clippers for Men

Top Benefits of Using YiLFo Hair Clippers for Men Introduction THE PRODUCT https://amzn.to/3SLRbtY Welcome to your ultimate guide on the top benefits of using YiLFo Hair Clippers for men. Whether you’re a grooming enthusiast or just stepping into the world of self-styling, YiLFo hair clippers have emerged as a go-to professional grooming kit. Designed to cater to every man’s shaving needs,…

[thedegu]

god my thoughts on my hair is so wierd. I would have another dyke who’s never cut hair before go at it with a set of clippers well before i would trust another hair stylist near my head again. 

[vicariousresearcher]

You’re a beautician in training and a bid came to your school to go to the local military base and set up shop to do some hair cuts for the day. 

Hairstylist and college student!Reader. Reader is implied to not be from the UK.

-----

It’s good money. You tell yourself as you set up your station in what looked to be a conference room of sorts. Good practice…..

You can already hear the chattering outside of the door. More voices than you anticipated. Your instructor said it would only be a few but then again you had to drive an hour and a half out to get here and most of these guys might not even have cars. So who knows, maybe you’ll see every damn soul in this place.

Rolling carts filled with scissors, sprays, and clippers with an obnoxious array of guards. Even managed to snag some of the standing mirrors from the makeup studio. All things you’d been allowed to steal from the class studios and jenga into your car for this bid. Your partner next to you seems to catch the pinch between your brows at the sight of the makeshift studio.

“Half of em’ just want to be sheared like sheep. They care more about getting it done than anything pretty.” She reassured you while tossing over a cape to your chair and unfolding her own. “Besides this is 6 practice hours taken care of.”

…….

That was in fact a lie.

It’s been 10 hours and it’s just now slowing down. Your feet hurt, nose hairs are burnt from BO and too strong axe body spray, and your mind slipped into robot mode about 4 hours ago. Between having to play cashier, cleaner, and barber for every guy you take, it’s a long process for even just one client. 

She was right about half the guys wanting to be sheared though. Many buzz cuts of various lengths with most of the others getting a simple crew cut. Your clippers have seen more work today than they’ve ever gotten. Though you prefer that to the guy that has your partner giving him some fuckass mohawk.

You’re wiping down your station when boots click across the conference room's door again. 

The fuck do they keep spawning from?

Your back creaks as you straighten. A placid, tired smile on your face as you greet the man at the door. Tall n’ broad, though that could be used to describe basically every man in this place, with a vaguely awkward look on his face. Welcoming eyes but lips pressed together under that beard. Hands clasping what looked like one of those boonie hats that grandpas wear when fishing. Customer service voice comes in strong as you get him in your chair and are probing for what he wants. Eyes flickering over your new project.

He has surprisingly thick brown hair given the fine wrinkles along his skin,  that's squished down on the top, presumably by the hat in his hands. Hair fluffing out at the nape and asides where it escaped the brim which gave him an oddly boyish look before you raked your fingers through it. 

“It’s been a minute. Just need ya to clean it up for me.” He says, blue eyes catching yours in the mirror as you drape the cape around him.

His accent is pleasant. English as far as you know but with how many accents you’ve heard today you can hear some differences within. You tune out slightly as you start accessing what needs to be done. Barely hearing him asking how your day was.

 Look at that, good hair and manners. 

“Alright. Didn’t think I’d find such a diverse group within a military base of all places.” You reply back a second too late. You can see the way his eyes crinkle a bit in the mirror. Amused almost.

Cute that a bit of tiredness allowed you to look caught off guard from a single question. 

“It’s a rest stop base. Most of us are just waiting to get shipped somewhere else.” He explains as you tilt his head back. Nails scraping over his scalp, a knuckle grazing his ear while you check length. Brain short circuiting when the crown of his head rests against your chest for a second. 

“Yeah? Where are you off to next?” You ask, fingers carding through his hair while spritzing some water to dampen your canvas.  

He hums, words harder to find as he works through the fog you managed to place in his head so easily. The sound rough yet warm in a way that told you you’d be thinking of him even after he leaves.

“Nowhere that’s any better than here.” You didn’t catch the look he gave you through the mirror. Appreciating the dove doing his hair more than he should’ve been. 

…….

After passing him one of the hand held mirrors you pull the cape off of him. Shaking out the clips of hair you took off before folding it. Letting the man-John he told you to call him- come to his own conclusion before you asked any questions. Judging by the pleased look on his face you wouldn’t have to do any touch ups. Though you were tempted to say you forgot to line up the back fully just to feel the nape of his neck in your hands again.

You didn’t have to ask anything as you felt a hand along your waist. Price leaning over in front of you to slide the mirror into its slot in your cart. Tobacco, that’s the smell you’d been trying to figure out this whole session. 

“You did perfect, dove. How much do I owe you?”

The look your partner gives you from her station has you knowing that you guys will be debating if the English use of pet names is cultural or not.

A hard swallow and a polite smile covers over the split second of embarrassment as you lead him over to the cash box.

…….

Undoing the straps around your waist you find a 20£ note tucked within your aprons folds. You have no doubt who it came from.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

~elementary drabble/question~

joels hair needs cut, but doesn’t trust anyone to do it. does he attempt it himself or does he ask reader??

A Helping Hand

pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: M (allusions to sex, no actual smut)

wc: <1k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Hey, baby?” Joel’s voice sounded from the top of the stairs as you and Sarah laid comfortably on either end of the couch, eyes glued to tonight’s program of choice, MTV’s: Sweet Sixteen.

“Yeah?” you called back, not moving from where you laid with your cheek pressed against a throw pillow.

“Can you come up here?” he asked, making Sarah grumble as your conversation drowned out the TV. With a sigh, you tossed your blanket off and slugged your way upstairs, exhausted from setting up your classroom for this year’s Open House.

“This better end in an orgasm for me,” you mumbled as you met him at the top of the stairs.

“Not why I called you up here, but we can arrange that, I suppose.” He grinned as he leaned in for a kiss, his arms slipping around your waist.

“What did you want, then?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Need you to cut my hair,” he mumbled back before ending his reply with another kiss.

“Why? Don’t you have a barber for that?” you asked, pulling away to look at him.

“Mom always used to do it,” he answered, grief and the desire not to talk about said grief thick in his tone. You nodded, swiping your thumb across his bearded jawline as you held his face, silently agreeing to leave it at that.

“Do you have everything?” you asked instead. “Scissors or whatever?”

“Got a hair clipper thing. Don’t know how to use it, or at least I don’t trust myself to use it. Might fuck around and cut it all off—“

“No, no. Let’s not do that,” you interrupted with a laugh.

“Why? You don’t think I could rock a buzzcut?” he asked with a half smirk, folding his arms over his chest. You held his forearms as they remained crossed, leaning in to try and give him a kiss but he dodged it.

“So sensitive,” you teased, poking the swell of his stomach.

“You’re dodgin’ the question.”

“I like your hair like this,” you reached up and combed your fingers through his dark brown waves. “Enough to pull on.”

“Alright, seductress,” he chuckled, a blush forming on his face as he gently pushed your hand away from his head so he could walk you into the bedroom with a pat to your ass. “Keep your hands to yourself and I’ll give you what you want later.”

“And if I don’t?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at him as you turned to walk into the en-suite. Joel’s smirk widened into a grin.

“Guess we’ll find out,” he shrugged before taking a seat on the closed toilet lid. You walked to stand in between his knees, his hands resting on the outside of your thighs as you finger-combed his hair.

“How short do you want me to go?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled against your skin as he lifted the hem of your shirt up so that he could plant a few teasing kisses right above the waistline of your pajama shorts. “Shorter, but long enough that you could still pull it.”

“Now who’s the seducer?” you purred, though you throbbing from the deepness of his voice paired with the soft press of his lips above where you desperately craved him.

“Sorry,” he lifted his head up and looked at you with those round eyes of his. “I’ll let you work.”

You gave him a chuckle and a shake of your head as you pulled yourself away from him and over to the sink where he had the clipper laid out with an assortment of guard sizes. You picked a pretty large guard, not wanting to take off too much on your first go around, and placed it on the clipper before returning to him on the toilet.

“You know I’ve never done this, right?” you asked with a chuckle. Joel simply shrugged.

“I trust ya,” he replied softly, his eyes just as tender as he looked up at you. It made you melt, an adoring frown growing on your face as you pet his hair back.

“Okay,” you hummed before leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “I’ll try not to fuck it up.”

After trimming his hair as short as your heart could take, you breathed a sigh of relief at a job well done.

“Think I’m done,” you announced, fingers sweeping some of the stray hair off his forehead.

“Do I still look pretty?” he asked, his eyes locking on yours while his hands lifted to hold your hips. You smirked down at him, leaning over to ghost your lips over his.

“You look gorgeous,” you whispered, relishing in the puff of a chuckle he let out before pressing his lips against yours for a sweet kiss.

“Lemme have a look.” He stood up and walked over to the mirror above the sink to check himself out. You stood behind him, watching his reflection as he moved his head around to look at it from every angle he could manage before nodding in approval. “Well done, baby.”

“You need to shower off all this hair.” Joel nodded in agreement before turning to you.

“You gonna join me?” he asked in a mumble as his lips brushed against yours.

“Duh,” you grinned. “You gotta pay up somehow.”

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Picture Day

Tee Higgins x Chase!Reader

Desc: You start getting antsy 5 weeks postpartum and find something to do with your hands.

TW: nothing too bad, mostly fluff.

Princess Ti | Main Masterlist

WC: about 1k

＊✿❀ *. ꕥ * · ❀✿＊

The buzz from your clippers fed your creative soul. You had only come in the salon to reminisce and take some time to yourself while your baby girl naps. You couldn't help but miss the chatter of clientele and the smell of coconut oil usually in the air. The pristine white counters in front of each station were completely bare, only each counter’s handheld hair dryer sticking out of the black cubbies.

Sitting in front of the first station, you think back to when your husband asked you what you really wanted in your home. It was a ballsy ask, in your opinion; you weren’t even sure what he meant by it. But he said you could turn the basement into whatever you wanted. It baffled you because you thought he’d want a man cave to escape the realities of marriage. That’s what your dad did, so you thought it was normal to think so.

So you tossed around the idea of taking on more personal and private clients in a home suite. A month later, he pleasantly surprised you with a fully furnished and functional home salon. It resembled a mini version of your main salon in the city. There is nothing that man wouldn't do for you.

After giving birth, Tee kicked into full dad mode. When he said your only job once Tiana was born was to just take care of her, he did not go back on his word. He's been an absolutely phenomenal father and partner, always taking her when you need a break, making sure you eat and stay hydrated, and even getting up during the night to calm her down. Him and your brother are literally upstairs putting together a new nursery glider so your morning feedings can be cozier.

Maybe that's why you're so antsy. You were so used to always caring for others; now that someone is holding you down the same way, you don't know what to do with yourself. You don't even cook anymore. Your mom has been handling all the meals so you can take time and heal. Everything they were doing was amazing, and you deeply appreciated it, but damn, you were bored.

The sound of your phone buzzing made your train of thought drown.

Bigheaded Dumbass🐧

we're done with yo fancy ass chair, come see it while Titi still sleep

sent at 2:23 pm

You thought about going back upstairs for a minute, but a different idea caught your attention.

To: Bigheaded Dumbass🐧

I have a better idea, you bring your wack ass fade to the basement and come sit in my chair😌

read at 2:27 pm

Bigheaded Dumbass🐧

arent you supposed to be resting, imma tell momma👎🏾

To: Bigheaded Dumbass🐧

Im offering you a free haircut and you wanna go rat me out😑 don't you have team pictures in a few days👀

Bigheaded Dumbass🐧

fine im coming, but when momma finds out I'm blaming you

To: Bigheaded Dumbass🐧

yea right, just come down here. AND DONT TELL TEE!

Bigheaded Dumbass🐧

yea... a little late for that one😬

read at 2:33 pm

Great, just when you thought you'd be able to do your own thing, your little brother goes and fucks it up before it happens.

Oh well, you shrugged and walked over to the back of the salon for your supplies to set up for Ja'Marr's haircut. You grabbed an apron for you and a barber cape for him (even though you should let him be itchy for threatening to snitch), your black pro clippers, a razor, a number 1 and 2 comb, some holding spray, and a brush. Then, set up your chair.

Minutes later, you were all ready, and your client walked in with your husband.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" He asked with an amused smirk on his face.

"I'm giving my brother the haircut he so desperately needs." You smile back, patting the back of the chair for J to sit down.

"You're supposed to be resting." He crosses his arms as you drape the cape over your brother.

Smirking, you untie your apron and walk up to your husband with your hands on your hips. "Look at me, babe." You slowly spin around to give him an eyeful of your postpartum baby body.

"I see you, mamas. Trust me, I see you." The very nice thing about everyone making sure you take care of yourself these last few weeks has been your ability to prioritize your "snap back." You weren't working out to get to a certain shape. You were just prioritizing strengthening your core, which meant some belly binding, light ab exercises, and self-care. You were nowhere near your pre-baby weight, but you liked the extra curves, and someone else did too.

"You can't just expect me to just sit down and wait for Tiana to wake up. I gotta keep my body active, practice my trade."

He knew you were saying words, but ever since that apron came off, his mind was somewhere else. "Oh, I know how you can get active."

"Alright, y'all just nasty. Am I getting my hair done or what?" Ja'Marr groans from behind you.

"Yea Tee, you gon' let me work or what?" You say, biting your lip.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Fine," he says, pulling a waiting chair over to the corner of your area. The 6-week rule playing over and over in his mind.

"Good, now let's get to work. Don't worry babe, you're next." You chirp, picking up the brush to begin the haircut.

But Ja'Marr jerks his head away. "Ay, Y/n don't go too rough now."

You can't help but snort. "Yes, yes, I know. You too tenderheaded for my skills."

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

~ a/n: yall see what I did there ;) last addition to the au for a while. time to go work on some other fics ♡

[so-i-did-this-thing]

It was a little intimidating, but I asked my new barber to also do my beard today.

I feel like so many shaving tutorials for trans guys only cover the basics of using a razor and it's frustrating not knowing how best to shape your facial hair to suit your face.

It was nice to have someone who knows what they are doing set my beard line (hard to do when most guides assume you have a prominent adam's apple as a guiding point).

The barber also walked me through what guard settings he used on the clippers (you blend your beard instead of going all one length) and how I should continue to grow out my beard to get it more in the shape I'm looking for.

Highly recommend, worth the price. I feel better equipped now to maintain it on my own. His razor cut was also far gentler on my sensitive skin than anything I could manage on my own.

[bluefootedbooby]

helping jinx with cutting/dyeing her new hair that we've seen on her new design bcz she's so AHHHH😍😍

Cut

Jinx sat on her stool in her workshop, waiting with a towel on her shoulders and the rest her long hair down, unbraided. You had a pair of clippers in your hand.

“Jinx… you sure you want me to cut it? Why don’t we just go to a barber…”

Jinx declined it though, too risky to be caught and besides she wanted you to do it. She only trusts you. You pulled her blue hair behind her back, taking your clippers and cutting off a large chunk to get it shortened first. Jinx’s back relaxed, what a huge weight off her. She rubbed the back of her neck feeling the cold air of the room gently kissing her exposed nape. Your fingers rang along her scalp, gently picking at her flaky skin and kissing the top of it.

“Shorter?”

“Yeah, just leave the bang.”

That might be hard to do… but for Jinx you would. The clippers buzzed, the warm metal meeting Jinx’s blue hair as clumps began to fall off in bristly flakes. You got one side of her head shaved, it wasn’t the best but it’ll do. Now to try and figure out how to get the other to look nice. You first started in the back, gently fading her hair into her neck. Finally you got to the bang, it was choppy sure, but you managed to keep her single bang there.

You turned the clippers off, setting them down and looking to Jinx to try and find a reaction. She leaned in the mirror, her three fingers brushing over her head. She smiled.

“Toots! This looks great!”

Jinx’s body spun around as she threw her arms around your neck, pulling you tight, rubbing her bristly hair to your cheek.

She pulled back standing at the mirror admiring her look.

“It just needs…”

Looking over she saw some of her metal paints, the kind meant to stain metal. She grabbed her brush and some of the purple paint, gliding it along part of her bang and small pieces of hair in uncoordinated patterns. You laughed, sure hope the paint doesn’t make her hair fall out!

Jinx sent her brush down, turned back to you with a wide smile at her technicolor hair. She rocked her head back and forth feeling the air on her scalp as she spun around without the worry of getting tangled in herself.

“I love it! I love it I love it!”

Jinx hopped around, taking your hands as she encouraged you to hop with her, which you did.

A quick shower and Jinx came out, the paint set in, hair nice and clean. She crashed right into you with an enormous hug, peppering your face in bountiful kisses that never seemed to end.

———

💙

[puns-and-musicals]

I headcanon that Ford’s eyesight is really quite abysmal which makes getting his hair cut a huge problem. On top of being an inconvenience and a waste of his precious time, he’s giving complete control over to a stranger for the entire duration, Long story short, Stan got pretty good at cutting hair, before he was kicked out.

When Mabel finds out she insists he cuts her hair, and when he gives in he does surprisingly well, topping it off with a headband of her choice, of course.

Dipper absolutely refuses to let Stan anywhere near him with a set of scissors, which is fair enough all things considered.

During his time through the portal, Ford cuts his own hair when it gets too unruly but never quite gets the hang of it. He spends 30 years on the run in dimensions of varying levels of hostility where the idea of letting someone hold a blade to his head is foolish at best.

When they leave on the Stan-o-War II, Stan packs his clippers and a cheap pair of barber scissors. He isn’t really sure why, but it feels important, somehow.

[thatztyv]

Hickies and Teasing

(I kinda don’t like this but I haven’t updated in a while so..)

Description:

- Teasing Urban about the hickies on his neck

Word Count:

- 1.6k

Ki'Asia Moore

(kie- a-she-uh  more)

"Dru I just love how you called yo barber to come to my house", I said as I walked into my living room.

"My boy had to come get me straight before he left town", he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes and sat on the couch between Jack and Urban.

"How are my two favorite white boys?", I said putting my arms on their shoulders.

"We're good", Jack chuckled.

"Asia I need a favor", Urban said making me arch a brow.

"What you need?"

"I need you to make me some pants by Friday."

"It's Wednesday Urb", I sighed.

"Love you Asia", he said and patted my back.

"You make me sick", I said rolling my eyes.

"Now when I ask you to make me something you cuss me out", Jack said.

"That's cause you wait til the night before an event to tell me. Be having me rushing to get some shit done for you", I said and mean mugged him.

"I be forgetting to let you know ahead of time", he chuckled.

"Mmhm", I hummed before standing up.

I walked over to my black recliner and sat down letting the bottom up.

"Alright Dru, how you like it?", Matt said handing him a mirror.

"You do yo shit everytime man, 'preciate it", Druski said handing him his mirror back and standing up.

"No problem", Matt said setting the mirror back in his bag.

"How I look T?", he asked walking to the couch beside me.

"You look presentable", I hummed.

"Matt since you're here, you'll shape up my beard?", Urb asked getting up from the couch and walking to the chair Dru was sitting in before.

"For sure", Matt said as he cleaned off his clippers.

Urb sat down before pulling his hair up into a bun.

"Damn Urban who the hell been eating at yo neck", Druski laughed out loud.

"What you mean?", he asked clueless.

"Yo neck is full of red and purple spots", Jack said and I laughed quietly to myself.

He pulled his phone out and held it up to see his neck.

"Oh shit", he mumbled.

"Urb you must was in some coochie last night?", Druski asked laughing.

"It must've been real good for her to be sucking on yo neck like that", I teased.

"He had to been fucking that shit up huh T?", Druski laughed.

"Hell yeah."

"You laid it on her Urb?", Jack chuckled.

"Fuck y'all bro", he said and rolled his eyes. "Matt come cut-"

"Nah that's what you was doing to whatever girl last night", Druski chuckled.

"They wasn't fucking, they was fawking. There's a difference", I chuckled.

"Tearing that shit up", Druski said laughing.

Urban smacked his lips.

“Just a shape up right?”, Matt chuckled.

“Yeah.”

.☆.

"Who you texting that got you smiling like that T?", Dru asked as he got up from his seat.

"None of your business", I said and stuck my tongue out at him.

"Let me find out", he said and looked me up and down.

I playfully rolled my eyes and put my phone away.

"We gone run to the store. You want anything?", Jack asked as he grabbed his phone off the table.

"Cookies and Cream Ice cream please."

"Ok", he hummed after checking his phone. "Urb you coming?"

He looked up nodding his head, "Yeah."

.☆.

"Now that we got you alone", Druski started as he turned back to look at me. "You hit that chick from the other night."

"No", I said immediately shutting him down.

"Said that with a quickness", Jack chuckled.

"Then who did you put it down on?"

"Nobody."

"Hickeys on your neck say otherwise man", Jack chirped as he looked at me through the rearview mirror.

"Keep your eyes on the road man", I said pulling my phone out.

I chuckled to myself as I put my phone away.

"I have an accusation", Druski said and looked over at Jack.

"Against?", I asked as I let my hair down.

"You."

"What I do?"

"You fucking Tiana", he said and for some reason Jack must've went blind because he almost ran off the road before mashing on brakes.

"Yooo what the fuck are you doing Jack?! You tryna kill us", I said as I gripped the car door.

He turned around and looked at me.

"You and Tiana fucking?!", he said making me look at him like he's stupid.

"You actually believe Dru? He just told you it's an accusation. I'm not fucking Tiana."

"I don't believe you", Druski said squinting his eyes at me.

"I know she has a boyfriend and who he is but it's not me", I said lying right through my teeth.

"She actually has a boyfriend?"

"Yes, she actually has a boyfriend. Dru you don't stand a chance my guy", I said and leaned forward to pat his shoulder.

"Damn", Jack mumbled.

"Can we go to the store now", I said sitting back in my seat.

.☆.

"Damn y'all got groceries didn't it", Tiana chuckled as we put our bags on the island in her kitchen.

"Well we staying the night so we brought some snacks", Jack hummed as he walked to put a box of chips in Tiana's pantry.

Tiana furrowed her eyebrows. "Excuse me y'all doing what now?"

"Spending the night", Druski said nonchalantly as he put some juices in the fridge.

"No y'all not. Y'all needa be gone by eleven", she said crossing her arms.

"Urb told us all about your lil relationship. So if he can spend the night so can we", Jack said squinting his eyes at her.

"You told them", Tiana said and looked over at me.

"They were gonna find out eventually... At least I didn't tell them who he was", I said making her let out a breath of relief.

"We just wanna meet and have a civilized talk with him", Druski said.

"Nothing you do is civilized. You're gonna scare him off", she whined. "Y'all gotta go home. Tell them they have to go home Urb."

"She's right we should go home. It's not fair for us to stay over unannounced."

"It's not unannounced though. She knows we're spending the night.. now", Jack said.

"Y'all need to get out my house", she whined.

"Nope", Druski said and leaned against the countertop.

Tiana looked at Jack then Druski then she looked at me. "Y'all get on my fucking nerves."

She stormed off and I just shook my head.

.☆.

I paused the movie on the tv and looked around the living room.

Jack and Druski was passed out on the couch to my left.

I shook my head and looked down at my phone to check the time. 11:47.

I got up from the couch slowly and made my way to Tiana's room.

"Baby?", I said as I poked my head in her room.

"You can come in", Tiana said.

I walked in and closed the door. She was getting her bed ready for her to go to sleep.

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her.

"You still upset?"

"Mm", she hummed as she tossed a pillow to the side.

I turned her around to face me and put my hands on her hips.

"Uht uh, we not doing nothing while Jack and Dru are here", she said after dodging my kiss.

"They're downstairs on the couch out cold", I said gently turning her face back to me.

"I don't care. I'm not about to hold back moans cause they wanna try and be detectives", she said and crossed her arms.

"Baby", I sighed.

"Don't baby me", she said taking my hands off her hips and walking off.

.☆.

I walked into the living, turning on the light.

Jack and Dru were asleep on the couch.

"Both of y'all get the fuck up", I said as I shook both of them.

"Is her boyfriend here?", Jack mumbled sitting up, rubbing his eye.

"He's been here. Look yall need to-"

"We missed him?!", Druski said quickly sitting up.

"Look I'm her boyfriend. Y'all need to go cause I'm tryna get some play tonight but y'all cockblocking bad."

"I fucking knew it!", Druski said loudly.

"You figured it out yay. Now get out", I said pulling them off the couch.

"Damn, he get a girlfriend and don't know how to act", Jack mumbled as he stumbled back a little.

"Pussy will change a man, a black woman's pussy especially", Dru said as he stood up.

"Akeke.. Now get out."

"How you gone kick us out Tiana house? I'm sitting right back down", Jack said.

"EVERYBODY GET OUT MY HOUSE", Tiana yelled from upstairs.

"You still mad?", Druski asked.

"Hell yeah cause y'all won't get out my house", she argued. "Finna call the cops and say y'all trespassing."

"Girl go to bed", Jack huffed.

"Fuck you Jackman!"

"Will y'all just go?", I said, trying to reason with them.

"No", Druski said. "We spending the night. We not leaving til tomorrow morning."

"No pussy for you tonight", Jack said making Druski laugh.

"Y'all are aggravating. We wasn't fucking tonight no ways", Tiana said walking into the living room.

"You a lie. We saw Urban buying that whip cream, You was ready for tonight. And don't think we forgot about all them hickies you put on him T", Druski said. "Just nasty."

"I can't wait til y'all get girlfriends, imma embarrass y'all so bad and cockblock like a mufucker", Tiana said and rolled her eyes at them.

[softhairedhotch]

Hi love!

I wanted to drop off some more headcanons,

starting off with hotch hates haircuts. Always has. The clippers snag at his scalp and the buzzing sound whirring around his head is disorienting, the lights sting his eyes. The scissors always come too close to his ears, the cold metal and threat of a sharp slice freak him out. The water spraying all over his face is just plain demeaning and trying to describe what he wants despite having had almost the same haircut for 16 years frustrated him because every barber alive wants different lingo from him. He doesn’t even want to consider the blue gunge they clean the tools in between clients. Not to mention the prickly hairs under his collar no matter how careful they are to prevent it. Hotch Hates Haircuts™️, it’s an all around stressful event that tests his patience.

Until, reader starts cutting his hair at home. In his own bathroom, patiently using scissors instead of clippers, no harsh lighting, no water overspray into his eyes and ears and nose. Just slow, gentle hands around his head and temples, the occasional kiss landing on his forehead. It becomes a serene sort of experience.

hotch hates haircuts amen !!!

i love the idea of the reader/you cutting his hair so much. like, it's such a soft intimate loving moment, ya'know?

the first time you cut his hair, it's because you realise it's getting a bit longer than usual. you think it's really cute the way his hair flops over his forehead. but after a few weeks, you notice it's irritating him. he brushes it away as if it's burning his skin, an annoyed huff leaving his lips. after gently suggesting he go to the barbers, you become aware of just how much he hates getting his hair cut.

when you suggest cutting his hair for him, he's immediately against it. he doesn't want to be a burden but most importantly he doesn't want any reason to be annoyed at you, and the thought of getting overstimulated when you're simply trying to help him makes him feel sick with guilt. however, after much persuasion on your end (mixed with lovey dovey puppy dog eyes and lots and lots of gentle smooches all over his face), he caves in after a few days and decides to let you cut his hair.

he prepares himself for the worst, expecting that once it's over he'll have to go on a run to calm down or even go to bed early so that he can have a few hours alone. the thought of possibly shutting you out after you help him makes him anxious and he gets the urge to call the whole thing off.

when aaron gets home later that day, you gently lead him to the bathroom and show him your set-up. one of the kitchen chairs is sat beside the sink and a pair of scissors, ones you bought specifically to cut his hair, rests on the edge of the bath. when he sits down, you lovingly smile at him and press a soft kiss to his lips, cheeks, and forehead. as a last surprise, you pull out your phone and open an app before the overhead light begins to dim. it's a smart bulb you found when you went shopping earlier and aaron almost bursts into tears at how thoughtful you are.

the hair cut itself takes a while due to only using scissors but aaron, to his own surprise, finds it relaxing. he almost nods off once or twice, the feeling of your soft hands combing through his hair and resting on his shoulders bringing him a great sense of comfort. occasionally, you press a kiss to his forehead or nose when you find yourself standing in front of him, and the adorable relaxed smile on his face, combined with his pretty eyelashes resting against his cheeks as he rests his eyes, makes it worth it each time.

once you've finished cutting his hair, you softly push it back the way he usually does and smile down at him lovingly, feeling a twist in your gut at just how much you love him. he looks up at you - completely calm and peaceful and not at all overstimulated like he always is after a haircut - and he feels the exact same way. he gives you the most loving kiss ever and thanks you profusely, promising to make it up to you somehow and telling you how much you mean to him and how he never imagined feeling as happy as he does when he's with you.

after that, he never lets his hair grow too long.

[whynotshaveme]

The Contract With Mr. Razor

For many years, Samantha Danielson had boring hair. It was chestnut brown, and she kept it no shorter than her shoulders but no longer than her breasts. One late night, while browsing through the Craigslist gigs section, she stumbled upon the ad that would change her life: “Seeking a woman to shave bald. Must be willing to keep head shaved for one year.”

Intrigued, Samantha clicked for more details. The author was a man who went by Mr. Razor, who outlined his desires in elaborate detail. He sought a submissive woman that, once shaved bald, would follow a strict contract to maintain her baldness or face dire consequences. There would be no money or sex involved. After days of deliberation over emails, Samantha agreed to his terms.

The day came for the initial shaving. It would be early in the morning. Mr. Razor would be meeting Samantha, who he called promiser samantha, at the barbershop. He sent a car to bring her there. The barbershop was a small old-fashioned barbershop at the heart of the city.

Mr. Razor and the barber, an older man, exchanged a few words before the barber motioned for Samantha to take a seat in the waiting chair. As she sat down, Mr. Razor stood beside her, his phone posed to capture the moment as her hair came off.

The barber draped a cape around Samantha. "Where do you find these women, boss?" he asked.

Mr. Razor laughed. "Craigslist. This one isn't as pretty as the last one, but, still, it's going to be fun having her under my thumb for a year. I suspect that she may not be able to resist trying to break the contract."

The barber laughed. Then he turned on the clippers. Samantha stayed silent as their buzz filled the room. The first pass of the clippers sent long strands of brown hair cascading to the floor. Samantha watched as her identity as a free woman seemed to fall away with each stroke. Her cheeks burned in shame and arousal.

"Oh, look at her now," said Mr. Razor, "what a downgrade in looks."

“Yeah, she definitely needed that hair,” the barber said with a chuckle. “Oh well! But I guess that’s what you wanted, huh? Another bald bitch?”

Mr. Razor smiled. "One of many."

After the clippers did their job, the barber applied shaving cream to Samantha’s scalp and shaved her smooth. She remained still the entire time, fearful of the straight razor. Once the barber finished, he rubbed her head vigorously with a clean white towel and then massaged a little bit of baby oil into her scalp to give it a shine. Samantha hardly recognizing the bald woman looking back at her.

“Look at you,” Mr. Razor taunted, slapping her bare scalp. “I know that you want to hide under a wig until you grow back your hair, but that's not allowed, promiser samantha. You signed a legally binding contract to look this way for an entire year. No matter how ugly you ended up.”

Samantha’s heart pounded with a mix of humiliation and excitement. “I understand, Mr. Razor,” she managed to say.

Over the next few months, Samantha adhered strictly to the terms of her contract with Mr. Razor, sending every Monday photos of her freshly shaved head and a self-attestation that she didn't wear wigs to cover her bald head, just caps and scarves. Every time that she sent in this documentation, she would reward herself by furiously masturbating afterwards. But five months in, life got hectic, and, one Monday, she forgot.

The following evening, there was a knock on her door. Samantha opened it to find Mr. Razor standing there, a briefcase in hand. He didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes conveyed his displeasure. She knew what was coming. Punishment.

“You forgot,” Mr. Razor said, “You know what that means, promiser samantha.”

Samantha let him in, and he set up his briefcase on the kitchen table, motioning for her to sit down. From his briefcase, he took his phone and a tripod. Her punishment would be recorded for his pleasure. Then he took out a disposable razor and a can of shaving cream. “You knew the consequences, promiser samantha of the first missed Monday because it was spelled out in our contract,” he said coldly. “No eyebrows for the rest of the year.”

Samantha did know. She allowed him to smear shaving cream over her eyebrows and shave them off. I agreed to follow the contract, she thought, trying to not to cry, every part of it. I am not a free woman. When he was done, he pulled out a mirror from his briefcase. Samantha stared at her new reflection. Oh, she thought, the tears finally escaping, I'm even uglier now.

“Why are you crying? You brought this on yourself.” Mr. Razor said sternly.

She felt a surge of arousal at his harsh words. “I did, Mr. Razor. Thank you for reminding me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“For the rest of the year, no eyebrows,” he reminded her, “and don't miss another Monday, or the laser hair removal treatments will have to begin."

Samantha shivered in anticipation. "Yes, Mr. Razor."

(Note: Inspired by today's conversations!)

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 5/10

Part 6 and 7 are out on my Patreon!

Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.

Enjoy!

"Ahhh." Ruben winced.

"Please, I didn't even touch you."

"Have you even shaved someone's beard before?"

You hadn't. However, you convinced Ruben to let you trim his before the doctor's appointment he had that afternoon.

You set up a makeshift barber station in the living room, complete with a mirror, clippers, and a pair of scissors. Ruben sat down in a chair, and you got to work, carefully trimming his beard to the perfect length.

"Just hold still Ruben, you're being a big baby."

"I'm being a what?"

"A big baby."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." You said, grabbing a hold of his chin to prevent him from moving his head again. However, he kept on snapping it your way, like the bandage that covered his eyes was to no use.

"Just don't cut my throat." He mumbled.

"Why are you so grumpy today?"

"Am I?"

"Yes, Ruben. Even your mom said so."

"You spoke to my mom, when?"

"I called her and thought I'd invite her to come to your doctor's appointment."

"And? What did she say?"

"Unfortunately she's busy."

"Good."

"Good?" You frowned. "Ruben, don't you want someone other than me to come with you to this appointment? Today's test results might mean that you get to remove your bandages completely."

"No." Ruben muttered. "I don't want them to be disappointed."

It has happened before. Ruben's previous test results had denied him his eyesight. Perhaps he didn't dare to raise his own or his family's expectations anymore. However, you remained optimistic. So optimistic that when you arrived at the doctor's office that day, you were squeezing Ruben's arm in anticipation of his results. You were so happy when the tests indicated that Ruben's brain activity had reached a healthier state, allowing his senses to be a bit more stimulated again.

"Alright, Mr Dias," The doctor said, tugging the bandage away from Ruben's eyes. "Or perhaps I should say, welcome back."

It was a beautiful moment. You watched Ruben bat his eyes as the daylight struck them. Once they were adjusted he turned his head, discovering the world like a curious child.

"Is it blurry?" You asked.

Ruben's eyes met yours in a heartfelt moment that seemed to stop the motion of everything around you.

"Y/N?" He seemed unsure. Perhaps he had another picture of you in his mind. Nevertheless, you smiled at him and he smiled back at you. You would have gone on smiling forever if it hadn't been for Ruben's brother spamming your phone with hundreds of text messages.

"That's weird."

"What is?" Ruben asked, seeing the furrowed expression on your face.

"Ivan wants us to meet him downtown. He says it's urgent."

It was an odd place to meet. Outside of a black brick building. Outside the back of it, where the dumpster were kept.

"Ivan what's going on?" Ruben asked. "Why are we in Deansgate of a places?"

Ivan grinned at the sight of his brother. It hit you that it was the first time in a long time that he had seen Ruben without bandages covering his eyes. "Happy birthday brother." Ivan said, pulling Ruben in for a hug.

"Happy birthday day Ruben."

You clenched the phone in your hand as he turned to you.

"You knew?" He frowned.

You shrugged. "Why did you think I fought to shave your beard?"

It wasn't a hard kept secret. You got the date of Ruben's birthday off the internet. However, when you asked his family about it they informed you that Ruben really didn't care much for birthdays, that he hadn't celebrated one in years. Nevertheless, you insisted that today was worth celebrating, considering the high chances of Ruben getting his bandages taken off.

"Come on bro, everyone's waiting." Ivan gestured for the two of you to follow him through the backdoor. It led you through a corridor lit up by neon lights. And as you followed the sound of the music, you were taken aback by how many they were.

"Surprise!"

You had expected Ruben's family and a handful of friends to help surprise Ruben on his birthday. However, there were about a hundred people greeting you as you entered.

"Happy birthday you minger." A man with slick back hair patted Ruben on the shoulder.

"Jack, you came?"

Ruben seemed equally surprised that so many of friends showed up.

"Of course I came." The man laughed. "Your mom is cooking, isn't she?"

It was my first time seeing Ruben, laughing without being sarcastic. Not one of those half hearted laughs that he would give you. But a real laugh, that made the corners of his eyes crease.

"Come on man, you won't believe what Kyle bought you."

"Kyle is here?"

"Everyone's here."

You watched as Ruben was ushered away by his friends. They weren't just regular people. You recognized many of them from TV and magazines. There were football players, supermodels, luxury brand owners and the list went on. It hit you how small you were in Ruben's world. Perhaps how insignificant the part you played was.

"Pretty cool, eh?"

"Max."

It calmed your heart to see a familiar face. Max, who dressed up for the occasion, replacing his tracksuit with a jacket and tie.

"I can't believe you got him to come." He said.

"What can I say, I'm a great liar."

"You mean you're a great actress."

"Why thank you." You bowed your head with courtesy.

"Ruben is really lucky to have you in his life. Me too."

"Stop it." You blushed. "You've only known me for three weeks."

"Yes, but I've seen nurses come and go within a day. Trust me, Ruben likes you."

"You think so?" His words aroused something within you. A sudden need to run into Ruben's arms and beg him to never let you go.

"I know so." Max winked. "Now enjoy the party, kid. But not too much. You're still on the clock."

You rolled your eyes as Max went away. Unlike you, he seemed so close to everyone in Ruben's family. His brother, his mother...They all loved him for everything he has done.

"Y/N, right?"

You turned around hearing someone call your name. "Joshua?"

********************************************

Ruben had been out of commission for weeks, ever since he had suffered a severe head trauma. But that didn't stop him from meeting up with his friends. It had been Ruben's own choice to avoid people for so long. Limiting himself to a sphere where only he existed and where the world revolved around him. All that changed when he met you. Now he found himself out and about again, taking the next steps to becoming the man he really was, the man you deserved to know him as.

"How about another round of shots!" His friends cheered. The majority of them were his teammates. And when it came to alcohol consumption, Jack Grealish was in charge.

As they made their way to the bar, Ruben could feel his heart racing. The lights and sound of the music was a bit overwhelming, and he could feel a sense of nausea kicking in. He tried to push through it, but it quickly became clear that he was in over his head.

"You good, man?" Asked John, another one of his teammates.

"I....I think I need to go," he said, voice shaking. "I'm feeling really sick."

Ruben rushed in the direction where he had come from, in the direction where he had left you. Although his vision had begun to deceive him, he recognized your silhouette from far away. You stood talking to some guy, a guy Ruben didn't know. It made his blood boil more than it already was. And by the look on your face Ruben appeared just the way he felt.

"Oh my God, Ruben, are you okay?"

You took one look at him and knew that he was in trouble. "Come on, we'll get you home," you said, taking his arm and leading him out of the club.

As you walked, Ruben could feel his nausea getting worse and worse. The bright lights of the city were like knives stabbing into his brain, and the sound of the traffic was like a never-ending drumbeat. He knew that he needed to get out of there, and fast.

Finally, you made it back to Ruben's apartment, where you helped Ruben into bed. He lay there, feeling the nausea wash over him like a wave, but at least he was in a safe place.

"I'll call Max and tell him where we went."

"No, just..." Ruben grunted. "Stay with me."

"Ruben, I think it's best if I call a doctor first to let them..."

"Please." Ruben used all his strength to grab your arm, desperately needing you by his side. "Stay with me, please."

You seemed conflicted but eventually gave in, kicking off your shoes and joining Ruben under the covers. He kept his eyes closed, his breath brushing past your cheek as you lay face to face.

"Thank you." He whispered. "For getting me out of there."

You smiled and stroked his hair. "You're going to be okay. We'll take things slow, and you'll be back to normal in no time."

Ruben nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards you. It was actually more than a sense. If the choice was his he would live and die this way, with you in his arms, your hands in his hair.

He opened his eyes to see the look of concentration that you had and how that look faltered when you caught him staring.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Ruben…I don't think that's a good idea."

"I disagree." He chuckled. "I think it's the best idea I've ever had."

Silence crept. Ruben had gone to shut his eyes again, assuming that you had done the same. But then there was movement, a slight dip in the bed as the warmth from your body enclosed on him. Ruben's eyes flickered as he felt your soft lips brush against his. It was a gentle kiss. One that cured him of his nausea.

"Don't open your eyes." You whispered.

"Will you be here in the morning?" Ruben stretched out his arms to wrap around you, pulling you close. You let him, and cuddled your head to rest under his chin.

"I will be here, but not in your bed."

"Fair enough." Ruben yawned. At least he had this moment. A moment when you belong to him and only him.

Part 6 and 7 are out on my Patreon!

[sanzaibian]

Congrats on 1,000! I was hoping you could give me a haircut! I always wondered what if look like with a pompadour or soemthing like that

“Welcome to the normal barbershop ! Thank you for choosing our service !” You are welcomed as soon as you set foot inside the building. “You will be accompanied by Rilaj Mam, an associate of Dr. Davod, who is known for having studied all sorts of arts of the hair. - Please call me Rilaj, using mam makes me feel old !” A voice is being heard from further inside the shop. - Sorry, but it’s in your namecard !”

As those two bicker, you approach the place where this mysterious man is, and find a quite small man, dark-skinned, folded eyes, and silky black hair arranged in a man bun – although the rest of the head is flawlessly shaved down to the skin. He wears colorful clothes, including a big bandana, and presumably the large hat and the pair of sunglasses that have been put down on the counter, all hiding what your trained eyes recognize as a ripped body.

But when you come just a little but closer, that short guy, presumably Rilajn suddenly turns to you – almost looking up to you – and smiles, full of kindness, though there is a tinge of malice behind his pitch black eyes.

“No matter ! I now have work to attend to !” He finishes the bickering, before addressing you. “I was waiting for you ! Please take place on this seat !”

You oblige, finding the seat to be extremely comfortable, much more than most barbershops you’ve ever been to. Almost too comfortable, considering this shop is temporary, after all… However, you’re here to relax and change hairstyles. Your hair has grown quite a lot since last time, and it’s about time you arrange it up. And trying a new style is just the cherry on top.

“So…” Rilaj, the barber, starts, coming with a bottle full of a weird black substance. “I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that… your hair is way too short to make a good enough pompadour. You should have come in like… two months or three to have enough length to do what you wanted.”

You look at him disappointed. As if to prove it, he takes a strand of hair from the very front of your mop and drops it down your face, only reaching the base of your nose. And this shop is going to be closed by the time you grow enough hair, so although you can always come to another later, shelling out money for what is simply a bit of a silly tryout feels pointless.

“However, the good news is that I have a way to make a great pompadour thanks to my very special technique. So… are you interested ?” The barber offers with a malicious voice.

Still taken by your disappointment, you don’t think much and, foolishly, you agree immediately. You see his smile grow, as you are regretting having agreed so quickly while not considering what this technique is.

“Great ! Well, we shall start with a bit of trimming, no ? ‘Cause your hair might not be long enough, but it still needs shaping for this new cut !”

He draws out clippers and installs on it quite a big guard. Then, he turns it on, and starts mowing at your hair, tufts of it dropping from the sides of your head. His cutting style is quite peculiar, though, using the clippers only bit by bit, tuft by tuft, as if he was cutting with scissors. However, when he has finished one side of your head, continuing by working on the back, letting yet more strands of hair fall, you notice that the result is very regular, with each hair the exact same short size.

Somehow, that unorthodox technique works, and you are left with a great and very soft carpet of hair – which you were able to feel once he put down the clippers. Then, he draws out some scissors, of which one side is shaped in a sort of comb-like structure. He explains to you how it will make your hair less dense, which will make it easier to style, and better able to receive the special technique.

As he chops down some hairs on top, making the remainder of the mop lighter, you notice how silent he is throughout the whole ordeal. Although he seems like quite a jovial guy, even quite chatty at times, he doesn’t seem to be like other barbers, pulling you into discussions about what you did recently, or other mundanities. But looking at his pitch black eyes, matching his pitch black hair, you feel a weird sense of… tiredness ? coming from him. You can’t quite describe it, but as is always said : the eyes are the door to the soul. And behind the eyes you feel a truly ancient soul.

“That’s about it ! Now we’re coming to the good stuff !” Rilaj suddenly pulls you out of your thoughts. “Let me just show you…”

He takes the bottle of black stuff in his hands, and presents it to you through the mirror, before uncapping it.

“This is what I call nuuch’ay ! Don’t try searching it, you won’t see anything about it on the web. It’s an old tradition from my people, forgotten today, but that is very potent.”

He starts dropping it on your hair. It has a very slimy texture, and drops slowly. Looking at its pitch black but slightly shiny form, it almost looks like rubber… Once the bottle is fully emptied out, he puts it away on the counter. You look at it and notice a label, on which there is something written. You can’t understand it, the letters spell words you haven’t seen anywhere, but you do note that the handwriting is very neat and elaborate. It’s the kind of style that would belong in a historical document.

“Now, let me just rub it all in, and then I’ll be able to… pull your hair out of your head, let’s put it like that.”

You are quite disturbed by this. As he is spreading the black goo, you’re wondering about what kinds of irreversible damage it would make to your hair… if it’s pulling out your hair, won’t it damage the follicles ? Destroy your hair, and making go bald when the hair inevitably drop ? But as you’re considering whether to flee as a matter of precaution, you find that you’re actually unable to move. You look at his eyes… still a deep, deep black hole…

You are now trapped.

Concentrated, Rilaj starts, as promised, pulling on your hair. He does it first in the front, and just as he starts pulling, you feel weird… as if he is pulling on other parts of your body. You look at yourself, and aren’t really able to notice anything that has change… but as he suddenly pulls a second time, you feel a bit weird in your belly.

He pulls once again. You feel… tighter, as if the flab that you had been accumulating over the years was being… pulled back. Another pull. This time, you feel weird in your jaw, a weird sense of tingling all over your face… and on point, you notice that, as he pulls another time, there is no more facial hair. If you could draw your hand to your face, you’re sure you would feel it to be all smooth.

He continues pulling, the pain and the tightness being felt on all parts of your body. You look up at your hair, and notice black strands, reaching far higher than they ever have… and they are stood perfectly. It’s a feeling that you’ve never had, and as he pulls yet another time, tightening your body yet again, you feel kind of… hot ? Like, you’re wearing a haircut quite elaborate, your face is devoid of beard… you feel beautiful, and, dare you think, cute !

He continues pulling out your hair, continuing to tighten everything in your body, as he starts combing your new longer hair. The comb goes higher, and higher, your body feels tighter and tighter, until he goes back to the rest of the hair, revealing a big, tall, but not obnoxious pompadour.

The definition of beauty and hotness.

And as he finishes combing the rest, the barber looks at you, smiling from a well done job, just like you are from a wonderful haircut. You are enamored by the pomp, so much that you fail to realize how big your clothes now are on you. You want to feel it, you want to touch it… but before you can make your hand reach, not even registering how you’re suddenly able to move, Rilaj blocks your arm.

“No, you can’t touch it just yet. It needs to dry up a little bit more before you can, else you will mess everything up.”

Dry ? You do as said, but that use of words does throw you for a loop. And your barber notice, since he then adds a few precisions.

“See, the nuuch’ay is derived from rubber, and we need to let it dry a bit before it can keep its shape. I have variants that dry a lot faster, but for hair, only this one gives out good results.”

Of course ! It’s rubber ! You knew it ! Especially now that you look again at your pitch black and slightly shiny pompadour, the same color as the short guy’s man bun. He goes to fiddle with his tools, putting away the comb, scissors and clippers, and drawing out another bottle full of that black thing… “nootcheye”, was it ? Whatever, that rubber thing he put on your head.

Feeling he was finishing up, you feel like it’s appropriate for you to stand back up… but just when you are in a vertical position, you feel something dropping. You look below, your pants and your underwear are on the ground, your shirt being the only thing still hanging on, although it is by now only hovering around your body.

You cry in shock, drawing the attention of the barber, who smiles, almost mocking you – though you don’t feel anything truly mean about it.

“Oops ! I guess I didn’t consider that law from that one smart French guy – what was his name… Lavoisier ? yeah, Lavoisier’s law of conservation of matter.” He half-mocks, sticking out his tongue.

You glare at him, growing angry.

“Okay, okay, don’t need to be this upset ! I was going to explain how the nuuch’ay works before you left anyway !” He throws his hands up in surrender. “Basically, it’s just stretching your body so that the hair is higher, so it had to take mass from somewhere else – that somewhere being your fat, mostly. « The nuuch’ay is currently keeping your body stretched, meaning that you will stay like that for quite a while. However, once it completely dries up, it will crack and then your body will go back to normal, whence why I couldn’t use the instantly drying up nuuch’ay.”

He starts helping you out of your shirt, revealing a lithe body, one that you hadn’t seen since early puberty. Although you can see muscles, they lack any definition, and are only revealed by the low amount of body fat you now have. By all definitions, you can now call yourself a definite twink. No matter how much of one you already were, by now there is no mistake, with how hairless and skinny you are.

“It should last about a month or two, I didn’t check when I made this bottle, but if you want to end it early, you have to warm your hair up with, for example, a perming machine.” He continues to explain, as he starts uncapping his other bottle of ‘nootcheye’. “But until then, your hair will stay exactly like this, no matter how much you squeeze it, wash it, or mess it up !”

As if to prove his point, he squeezes down your pompadour, and as he removes his hand it bounces back into place, as if nothing had happened. Bewildered, you let your hand reach your hair, messing it up in more and more extreme ways, but like rubber, it always gets back to its place. It just feels… surreal.

“By the way, we don’t have any spare clothes for you – all the spare are made for bigger people – so I will use this bottle to create clothes. Don’t worry, I have great taste.”

He pours the bottle of nuuch’ay he had in his hands, and it spreads over all your body, from your neck down to your feet, creating a big, black, shiny jumpsuit. But as it settles, red accents and multiple crevasses appear, until it has formed into a kind of black leathery tunic, one that you would more readily see in fetish publications than in the street.

But you love it.

And under the smile of Rilaj Mam who artfully wanders out of the field of view, you take a photo to commemorate that new hairstyle, that new shiny black pompadour.

But before you go out of the barbershop, after having collected your bag and your unfortunately big clothes, Rilaj stops you.

“Sorry to bother you, but could you grant me a favor ?” He draws out a short red cigarette. “I found that thing when I went to Tokyo a few weeks ago, and I think your uncle might be interested in it.”

You look at him shocked when he suddenly mentions your uncle – especially knowing the unfortunate fate he suffered.

“Now, don’t make this face. I knew who you were ever since I saw your name booking this haircut, that’s the reason I chose to cut your hair. That guy at the welcome desk can attest that I’m very selective with my clients.” You hear a frustrated ‘yes’ from far away. “But if you have any questions, ask them to him, I won’t say anything he doesn’t want me to. After all, he is the only one who has the right to answer them...”

Hearing his tone, it feels as if he wanted you to ask questions to your uncle… Does he feel smart for trying to so blatantly manipulate you ? Or does he realize that you can’t ask questions to your uncle and expect a coherent answer anymore ?

“And, seriously, don’t use that cigarette. You saw how potent the nuuch’ay is, and this is more insidious. On that, send my regards to your uncle. Xtiqaatz’at chik na qii’.”

Without waiting for you to react, he leaves out the door, leaving more questions than answers.

[teacupcollector]

Playing With Soaps Hair

Modern Warfare II Masterlist

A/N: This was mentioned in 'The Art of Misdirection' Part 2 so I thought I would go into more detail.

A/N: I am in no way a hairstylist or cosmetologist (If that is even the right profession I have no idea xD) So my hair cut knowledge is limited lol Summary: You find out Soap likes his hair played with.

You quickly found out that Soap likes his hair being played with after attempting to cut his hair. It was a Saturday morning so they weren't needed for training or anything else that day. You and Soap were in the Mess snacking on peanut butter that they managed to trade when Soap let out a sigh.

"What's up?" You ask as you take a sip of water trying to wash down the peanut butter you had just consumed.

"Nothin' really Misdi, I just need a haircut, but I don't like the barber at this particular base..." He says.

You chuckle. You had been sent on a mission with Gaz included to a Base in Germany. You have made a few friends while you have been here and have heard the rumors behind the heavy handed barber on base.

"I could do it for you if you'd like." You say with a smile.

"We can sneak in when the guy is on lunch or something." You say, your smile turning into a mischievous smirk. "I like the way you think Corporal." Soap says with an equally mischievous smirk while winking.

You got the schedule from a big guy in a sniper hood. He seemed nice so you made sure to give him the rest of your peanut butter stash for when this job is done. You have Soap sit in the chair while you get the clippers ready. When they are ready you put a cape over the front of his body to prevent hair going all over him "Are you sure you don't want to let it grow out a bit?" You ask as you plug them in and turn on the power. "I'm sure. This mop isn't the best." He says with a sigh. You turn him toward the mirror and run your hand through his Mohawk. You sigh. "That's unfortunate... You should be known as 'conditioner' instead of 'Soap'" You say as you start with the sides. "You want a two right?" I say referencing to the clip size. "Mhm... And why 'Conditioner?'" John asks as he closes his eyes. “You have the softest hair that any women would want to grab.” You say as you move to the back of his head. He nearly moans in delight. You continue to run your hands through his hair to adjust his head on occasion. You just happened to look up to look at his face. You see him wiggle his eyebrows. "Are you saying you want to pull my hair? Kind of sensual don' ya think?" Your face goes bright red. "Misdi goin' all red on me? Do I need to talk to the higher ups?" He says in a teasing tone.

"S-Sorry Sargent I'll do pa-" "Calm down I am only joking... No paperwork needed." Soap continues to smirk. You grumble under your breath as you change the clipper size to a three. You begin to shave the top of his head and he hums in delight. You smile slightly and begin to hum to yourself. You see him looking at you through the mirror. "How do you know how to do hair?" He asks and you laugh nervously. "Big family... People need hair cuts." You say with a smile. You finish the top of his head and get the blow dryer to get all the loose hairs off. "There you go! All set!" You say with a smile before. "I would have rinsed your hair or something bu-" "Want to feel me up some more?" Soap asks with a smirk.

You scoff. "No... I wanted to water board you..." You say as you put the clippers back and wipe them down with some form of disinfectants. "Don't worry babydoll you can play with my hair all you like." He says as he stands up and removes the cape. You grab a broom and dust pan. As he is walking to the door you trip him causing him to face plant into the door. You burst out laughing. That is until you hear the sound of stomping footsteps coming within the building and heading toward your direction. "Shit lets go!" You say, but you make sure to trip him again which ultimately got him caught. That is when you run into Gaz. "Why are you all out of breath?" He asks. "N-No reason! I uh... I need to go see a guy about some peanut butter. His name is uh King I think." You quickly look behind you to see a not so happy Soap. "SEE YOU LATER!" You exclaim as you run toward your barracks to grab said peanut butter.