✨𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝔾𝕦𝕟𝕤✨

of critters in clover

She’d been by your side throughout your whole transition, eagerly helping you with anything you needed. She enjoyed giving you your T injections and helping you with your scar care, but her absolute favorite thing was helping you shave.

Wanda waited for your call. You always started out doing it by yourself, but every time, sooner or later, your voice would ring out for her, "Babe? Can you come help me? There's a couple of spots I can't get."

Wanda loved it whenever you called for her; she'd practically jump up to help you. It felt so intimate. She'd sit on the bathroom counter, you standing between her legs as she cupped your jaw in one hand, using the other to gently guide the razor. You could smell her perfume, and you always instinctively leaned into her soft touch.

"Tilt your head to the side, love," she'd whisper, getting that pesky patch of hair that was right between the bottom of your earlobe and the curve of your jaw that you could never seem to get by yourself.

You did as she said, gazing down into her bright green eyes. Hers were locked on your face, searching for the remaining patches of hair. She was so focused, so meticulous in in her motions. You'd never felt so cared for. Your hands instinctively went to her thighs, grounding yourself, and making her crack that sweet smile you loved so much.

"Can you do my neck?" you'd always ask next. The neck was the worst for you. You had cowlicks, hair growing in multiple different directions, and, to make it even worse, your hair grew horizontally across your adam's apple, making shaving it without cutting yourself nearly impossible due to the tricky angle.

"Of course, handsome," she'd reply, reaching for the can of shaving cream and gently applying some to your neck. Shaving your neck was the bane of your existence, but it wasn't for Wanda. Yes, it was a challenge, but the fact that you had her do it meant that you trusted her, and that was the most rewarding feeling in the world for her.

If Wanda was meticulous before, now, she moved the razor with surgical precision. She'd heard you complain a hundred times about how tired you were of all the cuts you had on your neck after shaving, and she was determined to never leave one on you again.

She tilted your head up and slowly stretched the skin on your neck so that it was at the best angle possible, slicing away the hair that bothered you so much. Once she was done, the result was perfect, as always. Not a single blemish or hair left where you didn't want it.

She'd watch as you reached for your aftershave, biting her lip at how good you looked all cleaned up. Once you were done, she'd reach up, running her hands through what was left of your beard, and breathing in your scent, that perfect mix of aftershave and you.

"That's my man," she'd murmur, arms reaching up to wrap around your neck to pull you closer to her. Your hands would clench around her thighs, giggling as you leaned in to give her a kiss as a thank you.

Usually, your shaving sessions would end with Wanda dragging you to your bedroom, or just having you fuck her right there on the bathroom counter. Who could blame her? Wanda could never resist her man when he was all fresh and clean for her.

Per wikipedia:

The Titanic was made of steel, presumably to resist corrosion (i mean. thats why boats are made of steel i assume) but even when iron/steel rusts people did not expect to find like. decomposition. bacteria are EATING the titanic.

and there's wood furniture from the titanic that isn't decaying. hell, there are wood ships at the bottom of the ocean that archaeologists study. so the expectation people have for the titanic is not that the steel would decompose at the bottom of the ocean. Even in 100 years, since there are much more ancient preserved wooden ships iirc.

The sister ship HMHS Britannic is still perfectly preserved because of the way it sank, and partly in due to the coral that has grown around it keeping the structure in tact I believe was the reason.