#what causes dandruff

[thenfrw]

#dandruff causes #what causes dandruff #what causes dandruff in hair #home remedies #how to get rid of dandruff #dandruff #natural remedies

[software43blog]

What may cause Dandruff - The Real Reason behind the Problem and How to Fix It

What may cause Dandruff – The Real Reason behind the Problem and How to Fix It

The causes of dandruff can be attributed to numerous factors. Although the cause is not the same for everyone, dandruff may be defined as a remaining hair problem identified simply by excessive flaking of deceased skin tissue. For some, it can be due to external factors such as just using the wrong shampoo, cleaning too often, not cleaning enough, or rinsing their head of hair in water that is as…

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#What Causes Dandruff

[icannotgetoverbirds]

Share to save a dandruff-haver's sanity

i am making this post because all my life i have been told my dandruff was my fault for not washing my hair correctly and shamed for having "poor hygiene" as a result - this is probably where the bfrbs started tbh.

SO. There are two main types of dandruff!

Dry scalp flakes: these are white and itty bitty! you can probably solve this with a good hair and skincare routine. HOWEVER unless they are bothering you it is absolutely not necessary for any kind of health reason (afaik! disclaimer! i am not a doctor! this is not actionable medical advice nor should you take me anywhere near as seriously as a dermatologist). IS NOT CAUSED BY POOR HYGIENE.

Fungal dandruff: Bigger, yellowish, possibly oily/greasy flakes! Caused by your genetics going Oops All Yeast! Generally requires a prescription antifungal treatment from a dermatologist! ALSO NOT CAUSED BY POOR HYGIENE.

Either way, if you have dandruff, a dermatologist is the one you want to consult if it's bothering you! and frankly, even if it was a hygiene issue, nobody deserves to be shamed for that!!!!! especially considering that there are plenty of people who struggle to shower regularly due to circumstances beyond their control!

AND FOR CHRIST'S SAKE STOP SHAMING PEOPLE WITH DANDRUFF!!!!

#dandruff #byrd chirps #byrd's business #i am Big Mad about this #because ALL of my parents blamed me for my dandruff #and no matter what they tried it wouldn't go away #but they never thought to take me to a dermatologist for this SKIN issue #just assumed that we were doing something wrong #and i got called gross for having dandruff #and tbf it is kinda gross! but you don't call a literal child gross and say its their own fault #idk maybe my parents were just That Shitty and nobody else has this issue #but regardless. on the off chance that someone went through what i did: #i see u. you've done nothing wrong. you didn't fuck up in some way that makes you deserve to have dandruff #and by no means do you deserve to be shamed for it #certainly not to a degree where you feel like you have to cause yourself pain with scrubbing and picking and chemicals that don't even work #(which is what I've been doing) #dandruff havers ily and i am giving you a lil forehead kissie #dandruff shamers i am going to killing you with hammers

[munamania]

i dont even care if i fucked up my bangs last night what ever. i think they're relatively cute

#i also thought that scraping my scalp with literal scissors. would help me get some of the built up like dandruff #cause i suffer no matter what in winter. no dumbass! you're just gonna bleed. #so thats an odd sensation. i like my haircut though sorry love and support u hairdressers but i think im gonna just do it myself #from now on fr. <3 #abby talks

[saltyfilmmajor]

Doing that skin care

#god my skins been so bad lately it feels so uncomfortable #not in a beauty standards way #in a: for some reason I’ve got a flare up of dermatitis and it’s fuckign ip my scalp and my skin #and I like for it to stop #it’s getting better now but I’m unsure what cause my dandruff to flare up so severely

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

I took one (1) Benadryl for my arms (the itchy whelps spread to both not long after the last post lmfao!) and my f*ther asked if I’d really get drowsy from just one and I said yes but he didn’t believe me. Anyways I just woke up from a 2.5 hour nap

#meows #probably would’ve gone on longer #if they didn’t wake me to go eat #no idea what caused both my arms to suddenly break out #see I don’t get much acne but I make up for it in that #my skin is sensitive to EVERYTHING #no bubble baths no scented anything #hafta use dandruff shampoo bc of craddle cap #etc etc

[scientia-rex]

As a doctor, do you have any hygiene tips you think most people could use hearing? Like things people seem to neglect or do wrong that pop up and cause problems? Thanks!

EARS. Earwax is genetically determined. Some people get dry, scant earwax and others get wet, copious earwax. The biggest mistake I see is relying on Q-tips. Every time you stimulate the inside of your ear canal it makes your ears go “oh shit, there’s a threat! I better make more protective wax!” and next thing you know you’ve managed to jam a bunch of wax you told you ears to make back up against your ear drums and you can’t hear as well. Don’t rely on Q-tips. When you’re in the shower, let warm water run in, mush it around by pushing on your tragus (the cartilage flap in front of the canal), and let it drain. Repeat. Blot dry your ears with the edge of a towel or a Kleenex or something afterwards. If you tend to get really stubborn wax, use Debrox drops once or twice a week.

And vaginas. They’re mucus membranes once you get past the labia majora! You wouldn’t soap the inside of your mouth, don’t soap your vagina! It’s a self cleaning oven and if it smells weird GO SEE A MEDICAL PROVIDER because over the counter shit probably isn’t the right answer.

Dandruff isn’t because your scalp is dry. It’s because of a microorganism called malassezia furfur. It eats scalp oils. Dandruff shampoos mostly work pretty well.

Those are the three I can think of off the top of my head. Never use Irish Spring soap! It’s so heavily fragranced it’s a contact dermatitis waiting to happen! I once had a guy develop full body itching and I was JOKING when I said “what, did you just switch to Irish Spring?” and from then until he died he was convinced I was a witch because I was RIGHT.

#the attending dr. kristophine

[aayan1236]

What Causes Dandruff During Winters and Natural Dandruff Remedies

Winter is a beautiful season, with chilly weather, cozy sweaters, and warm drinks. But for many people, it also brings along an unwelcome problem – dandruff. Dandruff, also known as seborrheic dermatitis, is a common scalp condition that affects people of all ages. During winters, the condition seems to worsen, causing discomfort and embarrassment. In this blog post, we will discuss the causes of dandruff during winters and explore some natural dandruff remedies that can help alleviate the problem (Aaynaclinic).

#What Causes Dandruff During Winters

[str1d3rs]

tempted to make a story that'd cause so much discourse on this app and would probably get me doxxed if it got noticed

#i want to make “problematic” stories with shitty characters #like yes they're great for these aspects but also they're a murderer #and i want to take a character of mine and make two of them to study how people would react/treat them #my stories will probaby never get any notice but i like the idea of it causing discourse #the mc is a girl who's a fucked up burnt out people pleaser that easily gets manipulated and turns into a god against her will #i think people would find a way to find bad stuff about her like 'she didnt have to kill those guardian angels or kill that capitalist scum' #but she had to because she thought jt was the only option to and she's stuck with someone highly manipulative #and on top of it the manipulative guy is a major fucking liar who's like “yeah these guys are actually killing humans lol” #people would probably really like or hate this one character from the cult the mc kind of breaks up? #she doesnt full on destroy the cult as its existence still lingers but its still there haunting the narrative and the character #as hes constantly in some kind of hiding and terrified of any strangers as he sees everyone as some sort of threat #also i think a funny part i havent revealed to people i know is that hell does and doesn't exist at the same time because its just earth #heaven doesnt exist either #god(s) exist in the world just because they're technically just what makes up the universe/crucial things that hold up existence #but gods are really easy to kill tbh #hard to make but easy to kill #also angels are technically like fucked up lice/dandruff that tried to find a purpose and build a society #and the only way they can travel to earth is through black holes #all of this is more of background info tbh #some major themes would be about the affects of abuse/mental issues and thay family doesnt have to be blood related #also of course dog metaphors will fit some of the characters #and of course how obsession left unchecked is really unhealthy for every side sometimes #a lot of the themes are a little vent related but id rather put my soul into a story rather than make it plain and going into purity culture #edit: also most of the characters are trans and queer but not explicitly said because its not important to the story/whats going on #like yes this kid in hiding is trans and queer but he's in hiding from a cult to really think of romance or more about his gender #also i think itd be kind of silly that even through the worst living conditions that he was still given a binder and gender affirming care #considering how his life goes in there #like “your family will miss you please dont leave us my faithful daughter” “hey actually im a guy sorry” “oh okay. dont leave us my son” #they can excuse child torture and cannibalism but they draw the line at transphobia

[gyan-vigyan]

Dandruff Remedies at Home

Dandruff Remedies at Home

Dandruff Remedies at Home Dandruff Remedies at Home: In today’s time, due to pollution or lack of time, we do not get time to take proper care of our hair. Nowadays, due to the use of different hairstyles and hair products, people have to face the problem of dandruff. Generally, people adopt home remedies to get relief from the problem of dandruff, because hair loss also starts due to…

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#Causes of Dandruff #Dandruff Remedies at Home #Home remedies for Dandruff #What is Dandruff? #Which is the best shampoo for dandruff?

[prettieinpink]

TAKING CARE OF BLACK HAIR

This post is dedicated to all of my black beauties, who may be struggling in haircare. No way am I an expert, but these are tips that worked for me.

DAILY

Spray water on your hair + drink a lot of water to keep it hydrated. It helps with detangling and promotes softer hair.

Use a daily hair moisturizer. This can be hair food, oil, or a leave-in conditioner, but something that can moisturise your hair every day.

Sleep on a silk bonnet or a silk pillow to prevent tangles and knots in your hair.

Apply styling products in layers. Too many products can cause grease or ‘crunchy’ hair.

WASH DAY

Wash your hair once a week. You want to avoid product buildup, as that is drying your hair. If possible, apply thick oils or gels every other day instead of every day (most spray or thinner oils/gels are fine for daily use).

Detangle before you wash your hair. I like to completely wet my hair before detangling, so it’s much easier and avoids breakage. Or, you can buy a detangling spray that aids you. Try to use your fingers instead of a comb, as it is much gentler.

When shampooing, avoid foaming shampoos as they can dry out your hair. Look for shampoos that don’t have any harsh chemicals as well.

Deep condition your hair instead of just rinsing it. You can buy one or you can make your own. What I do is, I separate my hair into sections and then put conditioner onto each one. Then I put on a shower cap and let it stay for 15-30 minutes. Extensive deep conditioning can weaken your hair.

Use an old shirt or a microfiber towel to squeeze excess moisture and water from your hair. Using a towel can cause frizziness and breakage + avoid drying your hair using a blow dryer.

PROTECTIVE HAIRSTYLES

Try not to leave in protective hairstyles for too long. A month is the best time frame, but 3 months is the absolute maximum!

When taking out protective hairstyles, let your hair breathe. A minimum of two weeks of natural hair is ideal. This allows you to take care of your strands as well.

During protective hairstyles, remember to shampoo weekly to avoid dandruff buildup + use moistures!

If needed after a hairstyle, trim your hair. Some ends cannot be saved.

#black tumblr #black beauty #black is beautiful #black women #black hair #african hair #that girl #just girly things #becoming that girl #becoming her #clean girl #green juice girl #aesthetic #natural hair #curly hair #curlynaturalhair #curlycommunity

[sparkbeast20]

Cleaning

MC: Aren't any of you going to clean your rooms?

The brothers (Exception to Lucifer and Asmo): No.

MC: Want me to clean it?

The brothers: 😁🥺😄😀😊

One week later

Levi: Where are all my stuff!

MC: In your room?

Levi: Yeah, but way is it like that!!!

MC: Cause I cleaned it and organize it.

Satan: MC! Why in the three world my cat books all in different places!?!

MC: Well, first I tried to keep them in one place, but your encyclopedia of cats looks so out of place with your children books with cats. So I had it place with the other encyclopedia in alphabetic order.

Mammon: Why are all my old shit mix in with things I just bought!

MC: I don't follow fashion trend.

Beel: I can't find my favorite chips.

MC: Because I put all the snacks that are about to go out of date right in front.

Belphie: And my favorite blanket?

MC: Belphie it smell of drool and sweat, with dandruff all over it. I had to change it.

The brothers: ...

One week later

Lucifer: cheers!

Asmo and MC: Cheer!!

Glass toasting

Lucifer: Who knew changing things around would solve our little mess.

Asmo: And it's all thanks to our little lamb here.

MC: Stop. You're embarrassing me.

Lucifer: What made you think that would work on our brothers.

MC: Cause I hated when my parents does it.

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me nonsense

[im-a-hoping-beetch]

Many people genuinely get confused when we, native people, get uncomfortable when Katara, a native character, is reduced to a mom and her canon relationships with characters are put down in favour for a boy who lived in a society that benefitted from her oppression, antagonised her and her friends for most of the series and was even racist at times. But because he's hot and had an episode with katara, everything should be forgiven, because god forbid a native girl gets with anyone who isn't from a group of people who aided the genocide of her people. God forbid two characters who experienced genocide have a relationship and connect over this shared trauma, in favour for boy who also has mom trauma

Look, while I can understand your feelings of discomfort towards the ship, I’d still like to put certain things into perspective.

Now, I don’t really know what you meant by her being “reduced” to a mom. Do you mean that her relationship with Zuko would confine her to such a role? Which, by the way, is absolutely laughable, since one of the main reasons why so many ppl ship these two is bcz unlike every member of the gaang (aside from Suki), Zuko is the only one with who she doesn’t have to act like a surrogate mother. Katara is allowed to be angry and be vulnerable with him. All things that we rarely see her be able to do with the rest of the bunch, let alone her own brother.

Actually, one of the main appeal of the two is bcz, both have the same level of of maturity and similar way of interacting with the members of the gaang. Which is why so many ppl label the two as “parents of the group”.

But, if you’re talking about how, we zutarians usually talk abt the intricacies that come with her being a motherly person, I’ve got some news for ya. Most of us, usually, never fail to highlight how much of a tragedy, her being pushed into a role of adulthood at such a young age is. Also, on how, ironically, her canonical partner (Aang) has never really helped with that phenomenon, actually he perpetuated it even further.

Besides, wanna talk abt canon relationships being put down for a boy, well, look no further than canon itself, anon. I’m guessing that you’ve probably read this post, due to the phrasing at the beginning of your ask. One thing I specifically touched on, was how much of Katara’s existence seems to revolve around Aang, the biggest example being, the comics. In them, we do see the creators ready to strain Katara’s established relationships with the gaang (aside from her brother) in order to shove kataang down our throats. Cuz if you think abt it, Toph and Katara’s interactions are heavily reduced, let alone meaningful ones and do not even get me started on Zuko or Suki.

Yes, Zuko lived in a society that benefited from her oppression. He has antagonized her and her friends. But Zuko is also made to recognize the harm his actions have caused. Additionally, at no point is he not faced with the consequences of what he has done towards the gaang. Every single member gets to express anger or/and resentment over what he’s done in the past, Katara is no exception. Actually, she’s the one who’s given the most leeway in terms of doing so. Even for things he had no control over such as her mother’s death and the fire nation raids. However, instead of whining about how he’s not responsible for all of this taking place, something he could’ve easily done, he makes it up to her. He helps her seek justice for her mother while her canonical future boyfriend is out here reducing her righteous anger to blindsided revenge.

I don’t know what you mean by “Because He’s hot and had an episode with her, everything should be forgiven.” To me, that last part owed to make me scratch all the dandruff off my braids. Language is a powerful tool, but often than not, people don’t really know how to use it nor seem to understand the ramifications of their use. When you say “everything should be forgiven”, you are framing forgiveness as something passive, when, here, it is active. Someone does the action of forgiving Zuko, Katara does. Katara forgives him, because he earned it.

Right now, I’m assuming that you thought you were in defence of Katara, but the truth is that you are actually perpetuating an habit that many have had when it comes to the Southern Raiders. Which is to perpetually strip any agency Katara has in an episode literally centered around her character!?!

Nobody forbid anyone from anything. If people don’t feel comfortable shipping these two, so be it. However, to act as if Zuko hasn’t actively fought against the system that has led to those atrocities being done or like he hasn’t used his position of power in order to make actual change or/and retributions, is simply disingenuous.

Aang and Katara did have a relationship, but have never connected over their shared trauma. More specifically, Aang failed to connect over their shared trauma, when he should have and instead used as a way to silence hers. @sokkastyles makes a very good point about it in this post.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zutara #anti kataang #anti bryke #anti aang #atla fandom critical #zuko #katara #pro katara #the southern raiders #anti atla comics

[gojoidyll]

Just a Little Crush

Gepard x Female ! Reader

Warnings | one fight scene, cussing, fools in love, fluff, etc.

Note | y/n will be referred to with she/her pronouns btw !!

"Daydreaming about Y/n again, huh?"

He was broken out of his thoughts when he quickly glanced over at his sister while a small, red blush lightly dusting over his cheeks, nose and at the tips of his ears, "w- what?!"

Gepard was many things. Strong, confident, reliable, highly respected.

He didn't blush like a fool. He didn't stutter like a shy schoolgirl. And he most definitely didn't let his lips quiver when caught in thinking about someone.

Well, unless it was y/n. Then he was all those things. A helpless man with a love he was sure was unrequited.

Serval, smirking at the priceless scene, could only rest her cheek in the palm of her hand, "oh come on, its obvious. I've been talking about dandruff hair and how it grows on trees for the past ten minutes and all you've been saying is 'that's cool' and 'will that be apart of your new song.' Honestly, it was cute ar first, but now I'm just curious. What on earth are you thinking so intently over that it has to do with y/n? Hopefully nothing too .. risqué."

His blush worsened as he slammed his hands on the table, "Serval! I- I would never ever think of y/n in such a way!"

His sister laughed and gave him one of her charming smiles, "well, whatever you were thinking about .. don't you think its time to confess? She's a young maiden after all. It won't be too long before someone more dashing than you comes and sweeps her off of her feet."

He pressed his lips together and stood up from his spot at the table, "it's just a little crush Serval, besides - i highly doubt she feels the same way. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said while looking towards the nearest clock, "I have to be going."

"Sure, sure," she said with a wave as he started walking towards the door, "and be sure to say hi to Bronya for me, won't you?"

"I will," he called after, and the moment he stepped out of the shop, a cold wind was quick to hit him the face. He was thankful for it though as he felt his once hot face began to cool down dramatically. He was sure it wasn't red anymore as he began walking to his next destination.

"Gepard."

At the sound of his name, he turned to look and saw Bronya walking up to him. He gave her a stiff now as they walked off together.

"Did you just finish up talking with your sister," she questioned.

"Yes, I did. She says hello by the way."

Bronya smiled knowingly, "was that all she said?"

Her words made him think of Serval's suggestion of confessing to y/n, but he shook the thought away.

"No, nothing else."

"Hmm, I see. So, she didn't mention how you should confess to y/n then?"

He tensed up which didn't go unnoticed by Bronya which, of course, caused her to continue her verbal attack.

"Judging by your reaction, I guess she did mention it. And seeing how you're also being dismissive of the matter, I guess you aren't going to go through with it."

"Of course not. It's just a silly crush, and I'm sure y/n doesn't feel the same."

"You'll never know unless you say something."

Gepard looked away, "can we just, stop talking about it?"

Bronya shrugged as she stopped walking and so did Gepard.

"Have it your way then, but if you don't go for her, then someone else will. Now, if you excuse me, I have business elsewhere. Will you be going on patrol?"

"Yes."

Bronya smirked, "I heard y/n will be joining you. You should take the opportunity when you find yourself alone with her."

He didn't get to retort or say anything for that matter as Bronya was already leaving him alone with his thoughts.

"Damn it..."

Shaking his head, he spared a glance at the time and decided to run there. He didn't want to be late (especially after hearing that y/n will be joining him).

☆☆ ☆ ☆☆

"There you are!"

He felt his breath seize up and his heart skip a beat. His eyes seeming to dilate as he was greeted by y/n. A strong, highly capable Silvermane. She was top notch and considered to be one of the strongest. But truthfully, it wasn't her rank that made him fall for her. In all honesty, she could be the poorest and weakest civilian here and he would still fall for her.

"Sorry, y/n. Am I late?"

"Not at all. But knowing you, I was sure you would beat me here."

Her smile was easy going and kind. She was the type who always had something nice to say even when she was pissed off.

"Anyway, shall we be going?"

It was a simple patrol. One that required only two people due to the short windy path. Having too many Silvermane walking it, would surely cause some trouble and probably make the road down the mountain crumble.

"Of course."

The walk for Gepard was unbearable. He found himself shifting the collar of his shirt and suddenly feeling claustrophobic in his own uniform. Everything felt hot despite the winter chill and the snow falling around them.

Not to mention that he was sure that the blush on his cheeks from before had returned with a vengeance.

"You good back there, Gepard?"

She was walking ahead of him and he took the rear. Their weapons unshesthed in case of an attack as they were both on high alert.

"Y- yeah," he cursed his stutter.

She stopped and turned to look back at him which cause him to stop abruptly too so he wouldn't accidentally run into her.

"You sure? You don't seem like yourself..."

"It's- it's nothing. My sister and Bronya were just giving me a hard time."

Y/n gave a polite smile as she reached to him to give him a pat on the shoulder, "those two really know how to stick it to someone. Whatever they said, I would worry about it later, alright? I need you focused right now."

"Of course, sorry."

"Don't apologize, Gepard."

He nodded whilst biting his tongue. The words im sorry getting stuck in his throat in the process.

"Damn Silvermane!"

The sudden disgruntled voice caused the two to luck up at where the sound had come from. Y/n's eyes widening as two criminals up top had their weapons pointed at them.

"You damned assholes should have brought more two guards!"

"Shit, move Gepard!"

Arrows were knocked and fired down at them, but y/n was faster as she had grabbed Gepard and moved him close to the rocky wall. The small thin path beneath them crumbled a little when the wind arrows hit the ground around their feet. Y/n clenched her teeth.

We can't stay on this path. If we do, then we'll be falling off the cliff side!

More arrows were shot down at them, but y/n kept pushing their bodies close together in order to hug the wall so their aim would miss them by mere inches.

"Damn it."

She started to panic a little as she tried to think up of something and when she finally looked at Gepard, their eyes clashing together, she snapped.

She didn't want him to die. Not now. Not ever.

"We're going to get out of this," she said to him, "just like always."

She hesitated for a moment when she glanced at his lips, but decided against kissing him and instead let go.

"Y/n-"

"Stay there. Your attacks won't help."

He pressed his lips together and stayed glued to the wall as she had ordered.

"Finally come out to play," one of the criminals yelled out whilst sneering down at her. An arrow being knocked into place as he took aim at her.

She merely smiled at him and at his friend.

"Of course, and just to let you know...I did bring more with me."

"W- what?!"

She raised her hand revealing a signal flare, and the moment she pulled the trigger and a red light shot up into the sky a scoff had sounded from behind the two criminals.

"I wondered how long it was going to take you to use the flare, y/n."

Gepard frowned, recognizing the voice as Bronya's. She's here too? But I thought she was somewhere else.

"Sorry about that, Bronya! I kinda just panicked a little and forgot about you."

Bronya scoffed again, "don't tell me you got distracted by the pretty boy down there."

Y/n glanced at Gepard who was looking at her and she gave him a wink before answering her, "you know me too well! I mean, who wouldn't get distracted when Gepard is around?"

"Only you would!"

Laughing Bronya off, she turned to look at Gepard again when the fight with the criminals finally ensued up top.

"Something wrong?"

"I- I'm ..a bit confused."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I knew we were going to get ambushed here, so I kind of called in a favor from Bronya. Granted, I forgot about the flare because, well," she paused as she scratched the back of her head sheepishly, "you really are a distraction for me. Every time you're around, I just can't focus at all. You're so- so beautiful and breathtaking, and I like you so much. I just get caught up in thinking about you, and worrying about you. It wasn't until I felt the flare gun on my side pouch that I remembered my backup plan."

"You like me?"

She froze on the spot when she replayed her own words and realized everything she just said. Her mouth opening and closing as an explosion up top sounded throughout their eardrums.

"I- you- I wasn't supposed to say that and you aren't supposed to know!"

She said those words in a rush as she panicked again. Her eyes looking everywhere but at him. And when she took a step back, she found herself falling, but he was quick enough to grab her hand and pull close..

"I'm glad you told me, y/n. Because I feel the same way."

It may have been a little crush at the beginning, but along the way - it turned into something more for the both of them.

#hsr #honkai star rail #honkai #hsr gepard #female reader #gepard landau #gepard #gepard x reader #gepard x you #gepard x y/n

[harmonictechnicality]

This has got to be a mistake. There is no way on this spherical floating rock of fucked-uppery that this is the right hotel room.

Rose petals. Champagne bottles in a glass bucket. A silver tray of chocolate covered strawberries. A goddamn hot tub in the center of the room??

Mistake. Total mistake. The highest of errors.

See, Eddie is just tagging along with Steve on his monthly trips to visit Henderson at his big-brained university. And since Eddie has earned himself an appalling (yet valid) reputation of being flaky as dandruff, Steve was in charge of all the travel arrangements. Gas, schedule, hotel room.

This isn’t a hotel room. This a fucking honeymoon suite.

“The concierge said this was the only room left.” Steve tells him, plopping his duffel bag onto the heart-shaped bed. Which… fuck, really? Those exist outside of soft-core pornos?

“Sure. Okay.” Eddie spots candles on the balcony. Their balcony. Holy… “But why is all of this romantic shit here? Cause I’m sure as hell not paying for any of it.”

Eddie is barely paying for anything to begin with. He bought the snacks at the first gas station stop and has conveniently forgotten to pitch in ever since.

Steve shrugs. “It just… comes with the room, apparently.”

Eddie really wishes Steve had not put emphasis on that specific word. Knowing his hyperactive imagination, he won’t be able to un-hear that phrase for the entire duration of their trip. Awesome.

See, none of this would’ve been a problem two months ago. Up until then, Eddie never thought about inflicting red-rope marks around Steve’s wrists or how salivating it must sound to have his own name leaving Steve’s mouth while it’s stuffed with silk. No. Before two months ago, Eddie had Very Normal thoughts about Steve Harrington.

But since that day - the day Steve insisted on helping Eddie reapply his new eyebrow piercing, Eddie’s normal thoughts have been fucking poisonedwith vulgarity. 

It was everything whipped into one moment. The close proximity, the chemical-high off the sanitation wipes, the wetness of Steve’s fingers on him, the slight pinch of the metal threading through Eddie’s skin. 

As soon as Steve inserted the thin barbell, Eddie audibly gasped, swore quietly, had to play it off like the insertion hurt or whatever - just so Steve wouldn’t freak the fuck out. It proved to be an ineffective attempt at coolness, obviously Steve knew what he was doing. Has been an absolute tease about it ever since too. Flirty comments with Eddie when no one is around or making subtle touches whenever Eddie is close enough to get away with that sort of thing.

And look, Eddie would happily encourage all of that. He’d get Steve out of that stupid little polo and kiss every muscle on his torso if he thought that’s what Steve really wanted. There’s just no damn way that they are into the same stuff, physically.

Steve is probably nuts about fluffy-pink sex. All wispy touches and muffled moans under the covers. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. Eddie wants bruising kisses and sensual demands. He wants to dissect all the vanilla parts of Steve and replace them with black magic and velvet.

That. That is why this room, these things, that person, is making this all of this very dangerous for Eddie.

“You okay, man?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.” Liar.

“You’ve been staring at the desk lamp for like, five minutes.”

“Just speculating as to where the interior designer may have found a dark red lightbulb.” Which, yeah. Why is it red? Is red the horniest color? Eddie bets if Steve is lying beneath red lighting, it’ll look like his whole body is flushed, overheated from whatever Eddie is doing to him.

Fuck. This is bad. This is so very bad.

And yet, Steve is so unfazed. So casual. He’s eating the gummies off the snack bar like they’re not shaped like dicks. He’s turning on the stereo as if it’s not only looping through steamy saxophone solos. Why is none of this affecting him like it’s affecting Eddie? Is passion and desire so deeply woven into his Harrington DNA that this stuff is just a typical Tuesday for him? Ugh, Eddie is making his own head spin. 

“So…” Eddie sways side to side. “None of this is weird to you?”

“What do you mean?”

What does he mean? What fucking gives? “Uh - there’s a bowl of flavored rubbers sitting next to your hand, dude. How are you so chill about this?”

Steve clinks his nail over the condom bowl. “It’s just stuff. No biggie.”

“Just stuff? It’s like a romance novel threw up in this place.”

“Yeah, but..” Steve counters, sounds irritated. “It’s only romantic if you’re with someone and wanna… get it on.”

Eddie scoffs. “Get it on? What - suddenly, you can’t just say fuck?”

“You’re so annoying.” Steve rolls his eyes, tosses another dick gummy into his mouth. “These are all just things. It’s all about your mindset.”

“I disagree.” Eddie states. “I think anyone with an active libido would wanna fuck all over this sex-trap.”

“Booby-trap.”

“Nice one.” Eddie gives Steve a high-five. Unironically.

“Still…” Steve turns the volume dial down on the stereo. “I think you’re wrong.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve’s arms fold into his chest, taking a step towards Eddie. “Then prove your point. Convince me otherwise.”

Eddie should back down. He should wrap a leash around all of his sick thoughts and chain them up somewhere far away. He should not say what he’s about to say. He shouldn’t.

“How about we make a bet?” Big yikes. Wrong move.

“What kind of bet, Munson?”

“I bet you twenty bucks that I can change your mind. If we can use up all of these so-called ‘regular items,’ without you feeling a twinge of romance, then you win.”

Steve doesn’t respond, so Eddie keeps talking. Can’t shut up anymore.

“But if you so much as blush during any of it, then I win.”

Steve opens his mouth, shuts it. He raises an eyebrow and tries again. “When you say regular items, that excludes the condom bowl, right?” 

“What ever do you mean?” Eddie gives a sneaky grin, no restraining his dirty plan now. “You’re not interested in making balloon animals this evening?”

Steve huffs, plops down into a nearby chair. “So weird.”

“Do we have a deal or not, Harrington?” 

This is so dumb. Eddie can tell just how dumb it is by the puzzled expression on Steve’s face. But here he is, making bets like he’s still in fucking high school, trying to swindle beefy jocks out of their cushy-privileged allowance money.

However, it appears that Steve is just as dumb as Eddie is.

“Make it forty bucks.” Steve offers a hand out to him. 

Eddie accepts it, gives the firmest handshake. “You're on.”

So much for this being a normal evening.

*the rest is on ao3 :) here's the link*

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #this was supposed to be up yesterday sorryyy #hope you like it though! #all the foreplay and spicy bits are on ao3 (if you're into that) ✌️

[jess-the-reckless]

So happy to see a renewal announcement for S3 of Good Omens. Have some useless lesbians to celebrate.

It was hard not to like Olga. Like Crowley, she had spent too long in the childcare trenches, at the mercy of an unpleasant employer. Over morning coffee the two ex-nannies would swap war stories, while Olga peered through the Situations Vacant pages.

“I never could do this at the manor,” she said. “She always seemed to know if I was trying to find another job. I would hear her coming – squish, squish, squish.”

“She squishes?” said Crowley.

“ Да. She covers her feet in Vaseline every night, then she pulls sandwich bags over her feet to keep the Vaseline from getting everywhere, then she pulls sock over the whole thing and walks about like that. It goes squish squish squish between her toes when she walks.”

“Interesting,” said Crowley. “Why?”

“Dry feet.”

“Huh.” Crowley made a mental note of it, both impressed and annoyed that she’d never thought of the same thing sooner. Her toes had an unholy tendency to slough even harder in the summer. In winter they simply dessicated. “Did she often…you know…shed her skin?”

Olga shrugged. “I don’t know. But she definitely has dandruff. I’m surprised she doesn’t have chemical burns from all the bleach.”

Something went crash in the kitchen, followed by a muted swear from Aziraphale. Crowley, now a veteran of such crashes, identified it as the sound an electric hand-whisk made when it slid off the side of the bowl and splattered cake batter all over the surface, the floor, and the nearest highly-strung celestial messenger. She usually left Aziraphale to it, not knowing enough about baking to be able to help, but this time Aziraphale came out of the kitchen. She wore a fraught expression, and a large splodge of lumpy buttercream on her left tit.

“Darling,” she said. “Do we have any cigarettes around the place? Or ketamine?”

“Ketamine? No. And don’t start smoking again. What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale wrung her hands. “My buttercream has curdled,” she said. “It was supposed to look like plaster-of-paris, but it’s…it’s woodchip.”

Olga was already up out of her chair. “Let me see. It sounds like your butter is too cold.”

Crowley sat back and finished her coffee. She had been hesitant about having company at first, but it was nice to have someone around who knew how to deal with Aziraphale when she was having a baking meltdown. Crowley herself could take or leave cake, but between The Great British Bake-Off and whatever was going on in her kitchen she had come to the conclusion that cake was a hobby for drama queens. Funny, really, because what could be more decorative and serene than a wedding cake, with its sugar flowers and delicate swirls of icing? At first glance you would never have looked at such a thing and thought that its production had involved more wailing and gnashing of teeth than went on in any given circle of Hell on your average Thursday.

Accomplished as she was in the ways of causing soul-tarnishing levels of misery, Crowley couldn’t feel as though she’d missed a trick somewhere when she’d failed to open a patisserie.

“…you bring the temperature up slowly,” Olga was saying, in the kitchen. “See? Stand the bowl in hot water…”

The electric whisk whirred loudly, but this time when it shut off the noises from the angel were much more encouraging – “Oh my word…Olga, you’re a genius. Thank you so much.”

Presently Aziraphale emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands. She had that purposeful look that made Crowley wonder – and quietly dread – what might be coming next.

“I need you,” she said.

“Who? Me?” said Crowley, looking around the otherwise empty room. “Sorry. I’m not here.”

“You’re being silly. You’re very much here, and I need a favour.”

Crowley took a deep breath. “Come on then. Let’s hear it.”

“I need you to talk to Roger Dunmore—”

“—nyyyyaaargh—”

“—no. Stop screaming. Honestly, Crowley, why does everything have to be so dramatic all the time with you? I need you to ask Roger if he can squeeze one more contestant into the baking competition. I know the deadline for entry has expired, but these are special circumstances.”

“So tell him that,” said Crowley. “Why me? Why can’t you do it?”

“Because buttercream is tricky,” said Aziraphale. “And he likes you.”

Crowley let out a loud snort of laughter. “He hates me. Are you mad?”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, dear. And I thought you might be able to provide some leverage.” Aziraphale fished in the front pocket of her beige tartan apron, and tossed what she found there to Crowley. “Catch.”

It was the extendable tape measure, the one that Roger had dropped on the lawn when Aziraphale had had her involuntary Old Testament moment. Interested at last, Crowley pulled it from its metal housing and peered at the reverse side. Roger being Roger, he had taken an indelible pen and written his name on the tape. Before retirement he’d been a civil servant, and Crowley could easily picture him as the kind of office worker who was monstrously fussy about his stationary. They had those in Hell, too, like that one desk jockey from the upper circles. Crowley couldn’t remember her name offhand, but she’d gone disproportionately bonkers with a hammer when one of Crowley’s YTS kids had borrowed her stapler without asking.

“All right,” said Crowley, sensing an opportunity for torture. “Can’t hurt, I suppose.”

The Dunmores lived just down the road from the tiny local garage. On her way Crowley was surprised to see the Jag – an E-type-shaped lump under a Jaguar branded car cover – parked outside the garage. Thankfully there was no sign of Louise, so she continued on her way.

Roger Dunmore answered the door. “You,” he said, suspicious as a supervillain meeting his nemesis. “What do you want?”

“Hello Roger,” said Crowley. “I’ve come to ask you a favour.”

He blinked at her for a solid minute. His eyes were small and brown. “Are you mad?” he said. “I know what you did.”

“Oh? And what did I do?”

Roger Dunmore pulled the door half-closed behind him, and lowered his voice. “You threw a grenade at me,” he said.

“I did what?” said Crowley, and then realised this was going to be easier than she’d thought. “Oh. That. Yeah. No, that was lightning.”

 “On a calm night? With no thunderstorms?”

“Yep,” said Crowley. “We’ve had some funny weather lately, haven’t we? That rain the other day – came out of nowhere. I’d get your marrows under cover in case of hail, actually. You never know when it can strike, and it can pulverize a courgette like that.”

She snapped her fingers to emphasise her point, but Roger was unmoved. He narrowed his eyes and lips in the manner of someone who had learned to do so from the kind of thriller novels that infested airport bookshops. “I was in the Territorials,” he said. “I know a grenade when one explodes behind me.”

Crowley nodded in fake sympathy. “Fair enough,” she said. “Although I’d love to know where middle-aged lesbians like me are supposed to procure small armaments. The only bombs I’ve bought recently are those fizzy bath ones from The Body Shop.”

Roger exhaled hard. “What do you want, Ms Ash?” he said.

Oh dear. It was clearly time to break out the charm offensive, and as a long-time agent of Hell Crowley tended to put the offensive in charm offensive. This was Aziraphale’s territory, not hers. She didn’t have any of the weapons at Aziraphale’s disposal. She didn’t have twinkly blue eyes, a dimpled smile, and a cleavage that made men of a certain age want to get wedged between her breasts as thoroughly as that one Utah hiker who had ended up so trapped between two large boulders that he’d had to whittle off his own arm. No hiker was ever going to end up fighting for their life between Crowley’s modest B-cups. Her cleavage was an unchallenging country stroll. You wouldn’t have had to break out the heavy duty boots and Kendal Mint Cake for that one. Shit, you could probably do it in flip-flops.

Still baffled as to why Aziraphale wanted her to do this in the first place, Crowley attempted to look sweet and winning. She puffed out whatever scant chestage she had at her disposal, and smiled a sadly dimple-free smile. “I would like,” she said. “For you to make room for one more contestant in the baking competition.”

This time Roger didn’t blink. “The deadline has passed,” he said.

“I know,” said Crowley. “That’s why I’m asking you. Nicely.” She batted her eyelashes, for all the good it was going to do her behind dark glasses. “Please?”

“Piss off,” said Roger, and started to close the door.

Crowley stuck her foot in it, on much more familiar territory now. “You know, I was hoping you’d say something like that,” she said, reaching for the tape-measure in her pocket.

“Why?”

“Because it means I don’t have to ask nicely anymore,” she said, waving the tape-measure under his nose. He reached for it, and she snatched it back. “I’m sure your wife would be fascinated to learn how this ended up in a strange woman’s garden.”

Roger’s face went studiously blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He did. “It has your name on, idiot,” said Crowley. “And you’ve already more or less admitted to being in my allegedly grenade-strewn garden. Give it up, and do as I say, all right? It’s easier, otherwise I’m going to have to do some stuff you really won’t like.” Her glasses had slid down her nose, and she was fine with that. “With snakes.”

Roger’s left eye twitched. “What do you know about the snakes?” he said, in a terrible, post-traumatic undertone.

“Lotsss,” said Crowley, and smiled. Not nicely. “Do the thing, Roger.”

“Wait,” he said, as she was almost out of the front gate. “Can I have my tape-measure back?”

Crowley laughed. “Nope. You can have it back when you’ve done what I want. Maybe.”

He gawped at her for a moment. “Are you…are you blackmailing me?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” said Crowley. “Have a nice day.”

She wandered off with a swagger in her walk, rounded the corner, and stopped mid-sashay at the sight of the Jag.

The kid from the garage was stripping off the cover. Denuded now, the Jag was yellow. Bright, stupid, buttercup yellow. For a moment Crowley hoped against hope that it wasn’t the same car, but it was. Same number plate, different paint job.

Crowley didn’t stop to ask. She didn’t have to. She knew exactly who was responsible for this atrocity.

Aziraphale was still in the kitchen, attempting to trim a carefully stacked layer cake. “Put it back,” said Crowley.

“Put what back?” said Aziraphale, not looking up from her knife.

“The car. Louise’s Jag. It’s in the garage, and it’s fucking yellow. I know this was you.”

 Aziraphale stifled the tiniest of smiles. “What if it was?”

“It looks like a banana.”

“Mm.”

“Aziraphale…”

“I like it,” said Aziraphale, putting down the knife and spinning the cake on its turntable. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s sacrilege is what it is,” said Crowley. “That is a cherry-red car. She was built to be a sexy little red number. Destined for it, in fact, and you’ve made her look ridiculous. Change it back.”

Aziraphale appeared to consider this. “No,” she said.

#good omens #ineffable wives #theyre not really useless #actually quite effective #but still slightly dim #fanfic #can i get a wahoo #season 3