#fash wash

[and-stir-the-stars]

"it's your own fault that you have such bad acne if you don't wash your face" okay then explain why every facial cleanser I try dries out my skin and gives me awful painful rashes on my face. Go ahead.

[hiblogs-blog]

Feeling refreshed and ready for the day starts with your skincare regimen.

With Peach and Musk, our all-natural peach face wash is perfect for any skin type and helps to gently remove dirt, oils, and pollutants from your skin.

[stil-yr-sand]

ive reallt been slacking on the persoanal heigene lately

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 9

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @keiraslayz

@iimichie @mxtokko @chocolate-noodles @akurab @xoxobooksstuff

The waterfall, as expected, was a small one, but no less delightful to see. The falling water cascaded in a white, bubbly froth over the mossy rocks that naturally arranged themselves in steps, and spilled into the large plunge pool below. The rush of water, the chirp of birds, and the rustle of trees in the breeze relaxed everyone…

Except Johnny.

Restless as he was, he immediately threw off his t-shirt and cannonballed into the water to have a dip, making a splash that almost rivalled a meteor falling into the sea. The ladies, who were washing the sweat off their faces by the banks, were victims of this mini tsunami.

“John! Stop splashing around so much!” screeched Lindsey, her face flushed with annoyance as she watched him doggy paddle in the deeper part of the plunge pool. 

But that only provoked him to splash around some more and laugh at the annoyed look on her face. “C’mon, dinna fash yersel. It's a braw day, have some fun!” he chortled as he dove and resurfaced, mimicking a shark.

Simon watched Johnny's antics in the water and wanted to get in for a swim too, but hesitated. If it weren’t for the ladies, his shirt would be off and he’d be in the water in an instant.

“Are you gonna swim, Ghosty?” asked Gaz, who had also taken off his t-shirt and was doing a couple stretches before he could take a dip.

“No, I’m fine.” Simon shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“You sure, mate?” Gaz’s eyes flickered briefly towards the ladies as he leaned close to whisper, “You know you can show off those guns to her, right?”

He glanced at ____, who was now sitting on some rocks next to Lindsey, having their feet dipped in the water. He could take Gaz’s advice and he knew his body was impressive, but other things about his torso made him conscious. 

“Come on, don’t be such a pussy,” Gaz nudged Simon’s arm, smirking, “She’ll like it. And besides, you don't want her to be taken by someone else, do you? Might as well show her that body and secure her, yeah?”

That flipped the switch for him. 

“Right then, fuck it.” He instantly took off his shirt and threw it aside. 

The two then climbed up the rocks by the banks and dove into the water to join Johnny. While Lindsey was busy now secretly giggling watching the Scotsman, ____ got her once in a lifetime opportunity to see Simon with far less clothes than usual. 

Except for the pair of his knee-length shorts, he was naked. His skin was pale except the slight tan on his arms and upon his pecs were etched a few more tattoos similar to the sleeve tattoo on his arm. His body was built and muscular like that of an active soldier or a firefighter, with broad shoulders, well built pectoral and abdominal muscles, and built arms. All his muscles were built to be usable and not for display, and he actually looked strong. 

She stared, borderline ogled even, scanning every last bit of his exposed torso, wondering about how strong he was and how much he could carry without breaking a sweat. Of course, all of this was precious information that Frederick would inherit. 

“Babe, look at them!” Lindsey nudged ____ out of her reverie to direct her sight to the fun that the men were having. 

Simon and Johnny managed to find two large sticks and, pretending to be mediaeval swordsmen… or gladiators engaged in a duel, both screaming “En garde!” and “you fool!” at each other as they clashed sticks. Gaz was busy filming it all and egging them on to fight. 

“Boys will be boys,” remarked Lindsey with a chuckle as she too took a video of them. “Men find stick, men play with stick, men happy,” she added, looking at her friend to hear her thoughts. 

But ____ didn't hear a word Lindsey said. She was far too busy storing her mental database with the sights of the men frolicking, stick-fighting, and throwing water at each other. 

The sight that took the cake was Simon's smile. It wasn't his usual polite little smiles or his teasing smirks, but a full-blown grin of pure enjoyment and happiness. She watched the way his cheeks, flushed with exertion, raised up to his eyes; how his nose crinkled. His laughter was a loud roar, surprisingly, louder than those of his two friends. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knee and watched Simon with a dreamy eye, completely taken in by how handsome his genuine laughter made him, yet another thing for Frederick to inherit.

“I caught a fesh!” came Johnny's scream after some minutes of brawling in the pool. The two ladies looked and indeed, the Scotsman was found standing in the middle of the water holding up a huge, writhing fish in his hands like it was a trophy. “Oi Gaz, take ma picture! I need tae put this on ma Instagram.” 

“Bruv, did you catch that with your bare hands?” exclaimed Gaz as he came up with his camera, taking a couple photos while the Scotsman waded towards the banks, posing with his prized catch. Johnny announced that he did, and then explained his unorthodox process.

“Your bum’s out the window,” Simon, who now joined them, decided to let Johnny know that he wasn’t making any sense.

“Say it in a Sco’ish accent, mate,” Johnny piped, smirking, “It’s ‘yer bum’s oot the windae’,” 

“Right then, it looks like we're having fish and chips for lunch today.”

“Fuckin’ pussy,” Johnny teased, rolling his eyes.

The men decided to emerge from the water and call the ladies to prepare to return to the cabin. As they trudged back, Johnny excitedly showed off his catch to Lindsey, who he found out wasn't very keen on fish. The Scotsman, taking full advantage of it, would try to sneakily touch her arm with the cold, wet fish, making her squirm and shiver. Johnny and Gaz lightheartedly teased her for being averse to a dead fish, but she didn’t find it funny at all. 

After they reached the cabin, Simon immediately hit the shower, and Johnny and Gaz helped the ladies unload the car. Johnny had the ladies take all of their personal belongings inside the cabin and encouraged them to explore when they were done. And so they did. 

The interiors were filled with the pleasant scent of aged wood mixed with the musty smell of dust, which made Lindsey open the uncurtained windows to let in some fresh air. The small living room had two plastic covered couches in the center, facing each other. Across was a clean furnace and mantel made with stone, empty, clean, and undecorated. On their left was a moderately sized kitchen equipped with basic tools and vessels, and on their right were two empty bedrooms which the ladies wandered into. One king sized bed sat in each room, and one bathroom united both the rooms in the middle. The bathroom was occupied by Simon, who was busy washing himself inside after the swim. 

When he had finished and was dressed in fresh clothes, he threw his bath towel over his wet head and was about to step out when he overheard the ladies talking. 

“Oh, where is my camera when I need it?” he heard ____ exclaim.

There was a pause, and then a surprised quip from Lindsey, “What’s this, why’d you bring your Little Simon?”

Bigger Simon had to do a double take. 

Deathly curious to know what this ‘Little Simon’ was, he cracked open the door slightly and peeked out. He saw a stuffed toy in Lindsey’s hand, a skeleton plush, the very one he won for ____ at the arcade. 

His eyes widened slightly. His heart picked up speed. “She calls it Little Simon?” 

He wasn’t sure what to even feel, but he definitely felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. “But why?” And then he remembered that it was probably because of his skull printed mask, the motorcycle gloves, and his tattoos. 

“I kinda can’t seem to go anywhere without him,” he heard ____ say softly in response to Lindsey, sounding a little shy as she took the soft toy from her friend’s hand and stuffed it back in her backpack and continued looking for her camera.

“You have the real man himself, and you’ll be around him until tomorrow morning,” Lindsey answered with a teasing smirk.

“I know, I know,” ____ chuckled, “But still, I have a bit of an attachment to this little guy.”

“Because he gave it to you,” Lindsey playfully shoved her friend’s shoulder. “You know, I might be a little reconciled to you two being a thing, especially after he helped you hike today.”

____ smiled at that. “I’m glad to have your approval, mum.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, also smiling.

Simon, in the meantime, had to keep himself from punching the wall to keep his joy at bay. Although he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, he still gained valuable insight on ____’s feelings for him. His cheeks flushed red, his chest felt like it was going to explode, and an uncontrollable smile tugged his lips until the muscles in his face felt sore. 

“Let's fucking go!” Simon clenched his fists, smirking triumphantly, “Alejandro, you absolute fucking loser.”

The ladies soon found the camera, took their photos and then stepped outside the room. Only then did Simon finally step out, exhaling heavily and pressing his damp bath towel on his warm face to cool it down. 

He gingerly stepped out of the room, pausing to hear if the ladies were still around. It was silent. Exhaling again, he promptly stepped outside to find out what everyone was up to. Johnny and Gaz were setting up the tent, and the ladies were helping them secure the pegs in the ground.

“Ghosty!” Johnny called as soon as Simon was out the front door, “Can ye chop up some wood? We need tae get the fire pit burning.”

“Aye,” Simon nodded, giving his damp hair one last ruffle to dry it before hanging it up on the drying rack on the porch and turning around the corner to go to the woodshed at the back. 

Gaz decided it was his turn to take a shower and left the tent with Johnny and the ladies. Johnny, feeling a little cheeky, told ____, “Why don’ ye help Simon out with the wood? Lindsey and I can pitch the tent by ourselves.”

She immediately picked up the hint. “Alright, then,” she said with a half-smile, leaving the two by themselves.

As soon as she was gone, Johnny asked, smirking as he pretended to adjust the tent cloth on the rods, “What’s the craic, hen?”

“Nothing much,” she answered, shrugging.

“I’m offended ye didn’t like ma catch,” he said playfully, enjoying her reactions to him just existing. 

“I don’t even like fesh!” she exclaimed, her own Scottish accent unexpectedly slipping in between her normally spoken RP accent.

Johnny was pleasantly surprised by the slip. “Yer Sco’ish?” he asked, sounding amused.

Her fair face flushed red with embarrassment, which confused Johnny somewhat. “Yeah, what’s it to you?” she asked, glaring at him. 

“Nothin’,” he answered, unable to suppress a curious smirk at her reaction, “Ye hid it well. Pretendin’ tae be Sassenach, are ye?”

“No, I was raised in England.”

“An’ ye dinnae have no Sco’ish accent at all? From your parents?” 

“I got rid of it.”

His patriotic self raised a brow at this. “How so?” He asked, “Are ye embarrassed of it?” 

She sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Yes.” He begged her to tell him why this was so and she answered with, “I got made fun of very early on,” she absentmindedly twirled a lock of her wavy hair around her finger, “and so I shed it and spoke in RP.”

“Who made fun of ye?” Johnny demanded with a raised brow, sounding offended for her.

“Oh, just some lads back in school.” She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. 

Johnny growled under his breath, annoyed. “They’re aff their heid!” he exclaimed, “Fuckin’ eejits dinnae ken how bonny our accent is.”

Lindsey had to admit that she felt a little warmed by how offended he was on her behalf. 

“Many of them played with my feelings too, especially if they noticed I had a crush on one of them. They made fun of my red hair and me being Scottish, and mimicked my accent. I have no idea why they didn't like any of it,” she added, suddenly feeling the odd, tingly feeling of anxiety a closed-off person gets when they open up unexpectedly. 

Johnny was positively furious. “Tha’ so?” he said, crossing his arms, “Then ye don’ need tae be runnin’ after those bloody twats, ye ken? Whit ye need is a real Sco’ish man. He wouldnae take the mick outta ye.”

Lindsey blinked in surprise at this speech, feeling another bout of warmth in her chest. She chuckled and asked, crossing her arms, “And where am I to find a man like this?” 

A smirk tugged the corner of Johnny’s lip. “Right in front of ye, pet,” he said, putting a hand on his puffed chest, “I’m yer man and I ken how tae love ye.”

“Bold words,” answered Lindsey, impressed by his confidence.

He shook his head. “If only a Sco'ish man can appreciate a bonny Sco'ish lass like ye,” he flirted, sizing her up and down to bask in her beauty, “then he sure as hell can love her.” 

The lady couldn't help but blush and smile at this. She had to admit that he was winning her, but not quite yet. 

“I'm not convinced yet. How will I know for sure you'll treat me right and keep it that way?” she challenged, smiling playfully. 

“I’ve been askin’ ye tae go oan a date with me, but ye just want tae talk, talk, talk first.” He sarcastically rolled his eyes and flapped his joined fingers to mimic yapping. “I think it’s enough talkin’, yeah? Time to go oan a date an’ see me in action. Whit ye say, pet?”

“Alright, fine,” she relented, “But I have high expectations, so don’t disappoint me.” The smile lingered as she crossed her arms.

He returned her smile, happy to be challenged. “Yer wish is my command.”

To keep his wet hair from troubling him, Simon pulled out a black bandana from his pocket, folded it up oblong and tied it around his forehead. Just as he was about to enter the woodshed, he heard ___ call as she emerged from behind the wall.

“Simon, do you need-” Her words stopped in their tracks when she saw him sporting the bandana, clearly a new look she hadn't seen on him before. 

“Need what?” he asked, turning to face her.

She gulped harshly and then croaked out, “...Help?” 

“I don’t, but do you want to help?” He turned back to the woodshed and pulled out a log of wood and a splitting axe. 

“Yeah,” she answered, watching him place the log of wood on a tree stump that functioned as a chopping block.

He turned back to the woodshed and brought out a small wooden stool, which he handed to her. He then pointed slightly afar off, smiling. “You can sit still over there and look pretty for me.” 

She chuckled, “So far away?”

“I’ll be swinging an axe, darling. It’s not gonna be safe for anyone to stay nearby. If you want to watch, it’s best if you stay far away.” He rested the axe head down on the grass, allowing the long handle to lean against his leg while he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt above his elbows, revealing his sturdy forearms. 

She took his advice and the stool, and sat across from him, far away for her safety but near enough to talk to him. She watched as he adjusted his sleeves, spread his legs apart slightly, and wiped his hands on his jeans before taking hold of the axe. Placing one hand below the axe head and the other at the butt end, he raised it over his head, twisting his torso slightly and brought it down with all his strength, splitting the wood in half with a satisfying thwack.

She watched him both carefully and dreamily, observing his motions and form as he split the wood; it would be useful information. A sigh escaped her lips, marvelling at his range of vocations; he was a car mechanic, a gardener, and now a lumberjack, and who knew what else was in his repertoire of practical talents. A plumber? An electrician? Her attraction towards him was increasing at an alarming rate, and even Simon could see it in the way she stared at him. 

He exhaled, feeling another flutter in his stomach. Every single instance of her interest in him convinced him further and deeper that she preferred him over anyone else, all of it now piling up into a heap in his mind. 

The silence was thick, and her staring relentless, and he felt suffocated (in a good way). He wanted to start a conversation but felt his throat go dry. What would he even talk about? He began to sift through the recesses of his mind for a conversation starter. 

“Your skelly plush,” he finally began, his voice a little too unstable for his liking, “You seem to like it a lot. I always see it on your Instagram stories.”

“Yeah, I do, it’s cute,” she admitted. 

As he split the loose piece of wood with his hand and tossed aside the smaller piece, he couldn’t help but smile at this indirect compliment she was unknowingly paying him. 

“He’s your emotional support plushie then?” Simon asked teasingly as he adjusted the larger piece of the split wood on the stump to split it down again. 

“He is,” she answered, gazing again as he swung down the axe. “He motivates me to write.”

“Does that mean I motivate you to write?” he wondered as he threw aside the split wood and placed the next log on the chopping block. 

“Speaking of writing,” he began, swinging the axe down, “How’s the novel coming along? You said that there were problems with the male lead.”

“Yeah, there was…” she answered, but her voice trailed off when she watched as he yanked out the axe head lodged in the tight crack of the log, dug his fingers in the said crack, and with a grunt, split the wood with his bare hands, letting out a heavy sigh at the end of it. 

A delightful tingle coursed through her lower regions, making her press her thighs together and her cheeks flush. Did she just ovulate? If societal norms didn't exist, she'd already be asking him to split her legs apart. Maybe she was in the ovulation part of her cycle. 

“This is juicy,” she thought, covering her mouth slightly to hide the embarrassed smile creeping on her face. Frederick was going to be one hell of a man. 

Simon in the meantime, not looking at her, turned the split log of wood around to land another blow on it, all the while thinking, “Did she see it?” But when he stole a glance, she was looking elsewhere. He sighed, raising the axe one last time to split the last log of wood they needed. 

“What were you saying, love?” He remembered that she stopped mid-sentence. 

“Oh,” she blinked, now gulping harshly to keep her sudden spurt of lust at bay, “Yeah, the male lead. I've thankfully gotten a nice fitting model for him to base his character off of, and so far, it's coming along great.” 

“Who's the model, then?” he asked, now gathering the pieces of wood and keeping them aside. 

She struggled, looking this way and that as she tried to think of someone’s name to say. “Uh, Alejandro,” she spat out. “Fuck, why did I say that?!” 

Simon froze for a split second. “Oh, I see,” he said through his teeth, feeling the full force of disappointment and jealousy hit him like a train. Even the delightful little pile of evidence of her interest in him felt like they were given a harsh, vigorous shake as if to say in warning, “Don't get your hopes up.”

He was glad that his back was turned to her because he felt a painful twinge in his chest strong enough to make his eyes narrow and his lips to frown. “Why'd I even bother?” 

Swallowing down all his ill feelings, he collected his composure and the wood in his hands and tucked some under his arm. “We're done here. Let's go,” he said, his voice a hint icy and sharp, though he tried to sound casual and normal. 

He did a good job at hiding it, because she didn't notice the subtle shift in his tone. 

“Let me carry some,” she offered, now standing and walking up to him. 

“No, you might get a splinter,” he reasoned. 

She frowned. “Come on, please? Let me help,” she begged. 

Simon usually could refuse anyone’s help point-blank, and he could be petty and refuse her rudely, but at the sight of her pleading eyes staring at him, he nearly melted. Though he felt bitter, his tender regard for her didn't falter in the slightest. He still didn't want her delicate hands to get hurt, so he turned back to the woodshed again and brought out a pair of gloves. “Wear these first,” he instructed. 

Her face beamed as she took the gloves and put them on. Only when she did did he give her a lighter load of the split wood to carry. 

He was silent as they carried the wood to the fire pit, but only one thought filled his mind, “Why am I jealous? She's the author. She can choose whoever she wants as a model for her characters. Maybe the male lead is like Alejandro.” And yet, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed and embarrassed by the fact that he thought himself highly enough to be a model for any character in her work. After all, “she went to Alejandro first to discuss the male lead. It’s not any wonder she would choose someone like him.”

By the time they had dropped the wood into the fire pit, they found nobody outside. After starting a fire, the two entered the cabin and found Lindsey and Gaz in the kitchen, prepping the ingredients for lunch while Johnny's bathroom concert made nice background music. 

They joined in and Johnny joined soon after. Johnny was in such high spirits that he couldn't stop singing, either under his breath or out loud. He very openly flirted with Lindsey, who was both flattered and offended by it, since she would've preferred him to be more discreet. Gaz and ____ egged Johnny on simply because they wanted to be entertained, but Simon was by himself, silent, sullen, and annoyed by all the noise. 

When ____ had her fill of fun, she leaned over to Simon who was busy dicing up some tomatoes. “Simon,” she called. 

“Hm?” He responded, his eyes fixated on the tomatoes, not willing to meet her eye. 

“You told me that Johnny was a bit of a womaniser,” she said, her voice quiet and a hint worried as she took a bottle of dried peppercorns and tried to open it. 

“Yeah, I did.” he answered, watching her trying to pry the tight lid open. 

“I'm a bit worried about Lindsey. I hope Johnny won't raise her hopes up too high and break her heart. She seems to really like him.” She grunted, shaking her aching, red hand, still unsuccessful. 

His jaw clenched slightly. “You're worried about her and yet you openly support them,” he quipped, taking the bottle from her and twisting the tight lid open easily. He handed the bottle back. 

She smiled gratefully at him as she took the bottle and poured out a couple of peppercorns into a small mortar. “Yeah, I kinda do support them, and I think they look great together, but I'm still worried about how Johnny will treat Lindsey long term.” 

Simon was silent for a moment, now staring back at the tomatoes that he mindlessly turned into a mush from dicing too much. “What do you want me to do, darling?” he asked. 

“I want you to find out if he genuinely likes her,” she said, now in a whisper, now crushing the pepper into a coarse powder with the pestle, “Lindsey… she's more delicate than most people even if she doesn't show it, and she's easily swayed by her emotions too. I would not tolerate it if he broke her heart just for shits and giggles.”

Simon could hear the bitterness in her voice, and from the look on her face, he could tell that she was reliving some experiences. He was tempted to be petty again, but decided against it. He bumped her shoulder gently with his arm in an attempt to reassure her. 

“Don't worry, darling. I’ll find out.”

End of Part 9.

Part 10

This chapter was so hard yet so fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it! As always, leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist. Thank youu xoxo

Also, you can follow this fic on the tag (#Simon series), which you can find below!

[dreamingkatie]

Shrove Tuesday

Brian tosses his bag on the floor and lies back on the bed. Our flight into New Orleans was an easy, quick one, and the rental car process was blissfully smooth, as was check-in. It’s not hot yet, but the air is heavy and the pollen leaves a sickly yellow dust on the surface of the pool, the chairs, the pavement. 

“I’m gonna take a little rest while you put away clothes,” he says. He closes his eyes. 

“Brian?” 

“Hm?”

“You said that you’d let me come today,” I whisper.

“Baby, I’m exhausted,” he sighs. “Can you please get us unpacked?”

I nod and unzip his bag. I hang his clothes and hang my dresses and hear his breathing deepen. I take out the fash wash and the razor, moving in and out of the bathroom quietly. When I’m finished I sit on the balcony, look out on the courtyard, and read the McCarthy novel I’ve read three times before. Laughter and shouting drifts over and up from the Garden District. I squeeze my legs together. 

“Kate,” he says. 

I stick my head back into the suite. I smile. Brian unbuckles his belt and motions me in. I smile, searching his face. My hands are sweaty. I shut the door with a click, feeling strangely, unaccountably shy. I climb onto the tall bed and stretch out against him. 

He pushes my head down.

“But –”

“Kate, c’mon,” he says, his fingers sliding into my hair. 

“It’s Fat Tuesday. Brian, you said…”

“Please stop talking,” he says. His voice has an edge and I stop talking. I pull his cock out from his pants. I try to look up but he tightens his fist against my scalp. 

“Go on, sweetheart,” he says. “Good. Just a little deeper – good. Stay right there and let me talk to you.”

“Uuugh.”

“I know. Are you paying attention, Kate? I was thinking on the plane, and then I was thinking again while I was lying here and, honey – here, take a breath – I can’t let you come.”

I sob. His cock throbs in my throat.

“It’s so hard, isn’t it? But I feel like God is calling me, calling us, to start Lent right now. What does that mean, Kate?”

He pulls me off him. I swallow.

“Sacrifice,” I sputter.

“Yes,” he says, pushing back into my mouth. “And denial. Little faster now, Kate. Self examination. What else, baby?”

“Mmm.”

“Repentance, right?” He groans. “Discipline. You know what sex is for. You know how we have to do this.”

I feel like I’m drowning.

“So we’ll stay the course, ok? You aren’t supposed to come, and it’s just selfish. Selfish for you and it’s irresponsible of me. Oh – Kate, I’m going to come soon.”

Brian loosens his grip and I carefully wipe my mouth and move away from him. I lie on my back and close my eyes and he pulls up my dress and pushes my panties to the side. He is careful, pushing his cock in slowly, making certain not to touch me, holding my legs wide. I could be so close, so close in just a minute…. But he knows that, too, and he’s quicker and smarter and he knows better anyway. When he comes and I feel him soften and go slack against me I want to cry. I want to grind against him. 

His breath is hot against my neck and his weight is crushing. “I know how hard it is.”

“You don’t,” I whisper.

He sighs and pulls up his pants. He pulls out his belt. 

“No, I guess I don’t. Turn over, Kate, feet on the floor. No, keep your panties down. I think this is going to be an especially hard lesson.”

The blows begin, the shadows grow long, the revelers get louder and I lie still and let him remind me.

[seat-safety-switch]

The humble potato is man’s greatest ally against the forces of nature. This calorie-packed fistful of carbohydrates has been specifically bred by our ancestors to offer an easy solution to needing to eat. You can throw these suckers out your car while hauling the mail down the highway, and they’ll grow. Right there in the drainage ditch, year after year, forever, slowly taking over the biosphere.

Or at least that’s what I was told. A couple years ago, I decided to try and grow my own potatoes. Those billionaire turbo-fash ruling our grocery stores from their orbiting space stations had raised prices on staples one too many times, and it was my turn to take the mouldy Yukon Golds at the back of my fridge and bury them in the Earth. Like my proud forebears, I too would become a subsistence farmer, hewing food out of the very earth itself.

Friends, this manic urge lasted for about five seconds. And then I went back inside to try and find the loose float bowl for a Honda Monkey’s carb (it was in my cutlery drawer.) I forgot about it all summer, and then the next fall. In the middle of the night in November, I briefly remembered my spud project, but I soon forgot again. Then, the next fall, I had to move a front k-frame from a Thunderbird out of that corner of the yard, in the vain hope that the rat-infested 302 mounted to it was still a viable enough core to net me a Craigslist trade for a primo Mopar thermostat housing. And that’s where I saw it. Poking through the Earth were the leaves and flowers of my potato plant, struggling to reach sunlight.

I didn’t want to dig it up. I was afraid. I didn’t want to see that I had somehow failed at the anyone-can-do-it, super-easy introductory gardening project. And yet – I had visitors coming. Visitors from the newspaper. Perhaps they would want a baked potato. They would think glowingly of me and the profile would not immediately open with a story about my degenerate behaviour and generally erratic coot-like ideology. The fame might make people turn up to see my hoard of shit-box cars, at which point I could sneak out and remove their differentials while they weren’t looking. With a new resolve, I dug up the potatoes using an old fender liner, and washed them using the neighbour’s hose. They were perfect.

I’d like to tell you that my dinner with the newspaperman went well. Unfortunately, I didn’t have quite enough time to cook the potatoes, and especially not to boil off all the various solvents, oils, and heavy metals that had accreted in my soil (already marked for “reclamation by some other sucker” by the original owners) over the years. Sometimes I forget that not everyone has become as inured to the contaminants as I have. Weak stomachs and all that.

On the plus side, I had a handy new hole in my yard in which to dispose of the evidence. In a couple years, I’ll be able to wear their clothes without anyone becoming too suspicious – they were about my size, and it’ll save me a few bucks at the thrift store. They say gardening takes patience, after all.

[zoandreez]

do for love ☆・:.,;*

pairing: e1610!milesmorales x blackfem!reader

summary: "what's a self care day?" miles said after you told him you were gonna be busy today. you couldn't help but invite him over and relax with him for the day.

word count: 1.1k

genre: fluff

a/n: first spiderverse fic!!

you were exhausted. your head throbbed with irritation for the past couple of days from stress. you couldn't even think properly with the F you got on your test raging in the back of your mind, not to mention your parents were on your case about it all week.

you figured after an allowance cutoff, and your chemistry grade dropping from an A to a C+, it couldn't get any worse. and as if fate was playing the worlds cruelest trick on you, you lost your airpods friday morning after waking up late and missing your geometry class.

so, you decided to take a self care day tomorrow.

you woke up late today, since you didn't need to get ready for school. in your dorm, you noticed your roomate was already gone. you sat up, rubbing your head. checking your phone groggily, you noticed the time. 10:31 AM. you would be in third period by now.

before you coulld figure out your plans for the day, you immediately got a call from "miles, mh 💗." you picked up, and you heard him sigh with relief.

"hey ma, where are you? i've been calling for the past 20 minutes."

"i'm just taking a break today."

"what do you mean?"

"im having a self care day."

"what's a self care day?

"..nigga are you serious? you're spiderman and you've never taken a break to take care of yourself?"

miles was silent for a moment. it was like he was thinking of what to say, but before he could explain his lack of mental health breaks, you cut him off.

"come to my dorm, we're taking a break day." you didn't even hesitate to invite him to relax with you. he was able to keep you sane, and it was comforting knowing he could be apart of it.

"on my way," he said, before hanging up.

after a moment, miles showed up at your dorm. you were still in your pajamas, but he showed up in his uniform. he was probably at school waiting for you, and you felt a bit guilty for not telling him about your break beforehand.

when you opened the door for him, his face immediately shifted to worry. "jesus, what happened to you?" he said as he looked you up and down.

your eyes were half-lidded, bags sunken, hand clutching your head. you had sighed when he said that, posture already slouched from stress. "this is not the time, just come in." you said, backing up so he can walk in the dorm.

as he walked in, you led him to the bathroom and pulled out your common "spa day" materials. a face mask, or two in this case, fash wash, scrub, shampoo, conditioner, and more.

you turned to miles and held out the two face masks: an aztec claymask, or a regular charcoal mask. "pick one," you urged. as he leaned towards the aztec, you looked at him questionably. "it hurts, are you sure?"

"why is it apart of your self care day if it hurts?"

"beauty is pain," you shrugged. "yes or no?"

"fine." he said, taking the aztec clay mask container out of your hand before reading the back. as he did that, you took a moment to brush your teeth.

"you know, you can take off your uniform."

"during school hours? with the chance of getting caught? i never thought you were that kind of person." miles joked. you elbowed him as you leaned forward to spit out the water.

"thats not what i meant. put on the hoodie you left in here last week." you wiped your mouth before handing him the face wash when he took off his uniform. "the fact that you don't know what a self care day is shows you are just dirty. how do you wash your face in the morning?"

"..water? and hand soap?"

you looked at him with a hint of disgust. "wash your face, boy."

"alright, damn," miles said chuckling before he leaned into the sink.

you left him in the bathroom while you changed out of your pajamas into a t-shirt and sweatpants. when miles came out the bathroom, he had on the hoodie you handed him and a pair of basketball shorts he probably got from his bag.

"alright, good. now come here," you jestured to your desk. he walked over and sat in the swivel chair, spinning it for a moment and putting his worn-24/7-but-still-amazingly-clean jordans before you stopped him. you held up the plastic butter knife you were holding before you pulled out a small container. you scooped up some of the mask and rubbed it onto his face. specifically, on any acne you saw.

somehow, with the worst skincare routine known to man, miles barely had any acne. you were jealous of how your boyfriend had such clear skin. especially with hand soap.

you leaned back to look at your work. miles looked like a confused alien covered in the green mask. you smiled before turning away to put the charcoal mask on yourself.

"so, what does this do?"

"it basically sucks toxins out of your skin and makes sure theres no dead skin clinging to your face. helps with upcoming acne or scars." you said mindlessly, the same explanation you heard time and time again from your own mother.

"ah," he replied, before plopping onto your dorm bed. you grabbed your computer and sat with him on the bed, scrolling through the amount of assignments you'd have to make up.

miles groaned before snatching your computer and opening netflix.

"it's 'sposed to be a self care day. no homework yet. what do you wanna watch?"

you looked at him, confused, but impressed. "have you seen 'missing' yet?"

"the one with the girl's mother who got kidnapped? nah, but i saw the trailer."

"let's watch that then," you said, opening the movie and clicking it before leaning on his shoulder. he wrapped an arm around your waist as you watched the movie, and you drifted off to sleep.

when you woke up, there was a wet paper towel on the nightstand next to your bed, stained with black and green. your macbook was neatly placed, charging, and there was a note.

"hey ma,

your roomate came back from her clases so i figured i wouldn't make it awkward. i tried my best to wipe off your face mask. you were right, that shit started burning, it was so tight.

anyways, sorry about whatever happened that made you feel so horrible this morning, but i hope your 'self care day' helped.

miles," in his infamous grafiti signature.

in the corner of the note was a spiderman logo, and a drawing of you asleep. you cracked a smile.

p/a/n: not my best work but thats ok sorry guys

[fnaf2yaoi]

peoplz should draw hl characters with acne and pimples i think . bc really when was rhe last time these guys have ever been able to wash their face and even so, it’s probably hard to have a clean face with what they do ykno ??

personal hc too is some of the rebels (mainly the girls) have some homemade fash wash they make in batches 2 give to those who want it ,,, it’s not the best but t is as good as you can get !

[w-wonnyluvs]

𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓅𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒸 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈

ｆａｃｔｏｒｓ：　胃イ艶

if you have sensory issues, the lighting and the way the store is built can actually trigger panic attacks and sympt0ms.

agoraphobia is a huge factor as well. basically, you don’t want to go to places where you’ve had panic attacks and obviously get prettɥ terrıfıed.

ｇｅｔｔｉｎｇ　ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ　ｉｔ：　佳なヺ

it’s not particularly easy to get through these situations. it’s hãrd to go through situations that make you uncomfortable.

【ｔｉｐｓ】

try to bring a fidget spinner, fidget cube, or something of sort. it will help distract you a bit. it may not work a lot, but i find it helpful.

have water with you, where ever you go. .

chew some peppermint gum or suck on some peppermint candies. it may not help a lot, but if you have a dry møuth from your panic attacks, it’ll help that symptom out.

pretend you’re excited. i know, it won’t be that easy, but sometimes faking one emotion, can actually make that emotion happen. try convincing yourself, “i’m fine, i’m excited! it’s okay!” (source: DARE - THE NEW WAY TO END ANXIETY AND STOP PANIC ATTACKS by Barry McDonagh)

accept your panic attacks and anxıety. don’t say no to anxıety because then you’re pushing it a̛way and gıvıng it more pøwer. accept that you do have this going on, but you’re NOT your anxıety.

taking deep breaths in and out. try different patterns, it may be hãrd to breathe, but you have to t̢ry. don’t gıve up!

finally, try EFT. emotiona1 freedom tapping is known to help relax you.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ what you can bring into your regular life ♥

there are so many things you can bring in your life and routines. get ready because i’m gonna list a lot!:

meditation

eft

michael sealey hypnosis

yoga

exercise

journaling

bullet journaling

reading

drinking water

drinking herbal teas such as - chamomile, lemongrass, lavender, and etc..

dancing

drawing and doodling

singing

playing some videogames

stretches

melatonin

magnesium

listening to motivating podcasts, videos, or songs

washing your fash and smiling in the mirror

talking positive to yourself

writing stories

doing thinking exercises in the morning to shift your negative thinking

watch one of your favourite shows on youtube, netflix, hulu, or whatever

write down on paper, something you want to do. don’t mention your fears or think about it. do something you WANT. don’t let the fear get in the way.

practicing some self-care

go outside

eat some delicious food

open your windows and let the sunlight come in

take vitamin d and b12!

smile and don’t let your panic attacks consume you. you’re a beautiful human being.

[slitheringghost]

snape + 1, 5, 14

lily + 2, 11, 12

sirius + 7, 15, 16

(sending you my three fav marauders' era characters <3)

Thank you so much for the ask! <3

Snape

1. what i most like about them

I really like the glimpses we see of child!Snape as a friend. He tries to reassure Lily when she's worried about being Muggleborn, he’s not mad at her when she deflects blame onto him about Petunia, and then is “encouraged” when she brightens. He’s also so visibly upset when she's sorted into Gryffindor. (As I’m not a Snape fan that’s… sort of where the list of things I like about him end.)

5. a headcanon i have

Cheating because this falls under “a HC someone else has” but I really love it. From this post - that Snape tried to set Lily up as the exceptional Muggleborn amongst his Slytherin friends when he came into Hogwarts. It’s clear he came in prepared to impress the Slytherin purebloods (at least that’s how I take the “Snape came in knowing more curses than half the kids in 7th year” comment, that he was loudly showing off his knowledge) and it makes a lot of sense to me that he *also* planned to ~get Lily in the with the Purebloods~ and make her social climb along with him. Evidently Snape knew about Muggleborn prejudice, and he also expected Lily to be in Slytherin for 2+ years pre Hogwarts and knows she would’ve experienced alienation and hostility in it similar to how he would.

It feels like such a Slytherin-esque loyalty thing for Snape to do (and heavily misguided of course but well intentioned), to lie to Lily about how Muggleborns are treated and keep it secret from her for years only to come into Hogwarts prepared to be like “Hello Slytherins this is my super special Muggleborn friend she’s totally Not Like Other Muggleborns look how powerful she is, pls accept us”. That post interprets her as a Parselmouth so it’s questionable how much it would work without that (though Parselmouth Lily is excellent and now my HC too), but regardless I think he’d at least try anyway.

14. my fav au for them

I... can't think of anything rn sorry.

Lily

2. what i hate about them

Nothing, she’s perfect <3 In seriousness, I don’t dislike anything about her, but I’ll talk about some of her flaws (because despite fandom claiming she’s written as a Saint, she clearly has them).

- She’s emotionally volatile when she’s hurt - i.e. she blames Snape for Petunia’s anger when Lily readily went sneaking with Snape (and frankly I’d guess that Lily was the one who suggested that they sneak into Petunia’s room in the first place, even if Snape was the one who found the letter).

- She’s a fash apologist. Invented Snape apologism, no Snape fan could get on her level. Defends her fascist terrorist friend when he’s going around attacking Muggleborn students while calling them slurs - including her (most likely) friends like Mary Macdonald.

- Manipulative and knows how to use people’s weaknesses against them! She strikes back viciously using Petunia's insecurity. She does the same with Snape (bringing up the Prank, I'd wash your pants if I were you Snivellus) and James (That Whole Rant in SWM). In these cases, it was deserved and Lily was completely right and did nothing wrong in those scenes… BUT I'm sure this tendency played a role at points when others didn't deserve it too.

I also see her as really leaning into those manipulative tendencies when she was working for the Order and trying to figure out a way to deflect the Killing Curse to save Harry i.e. I interpret her dynamic with Bathilda Bagshot in part as her manipulating Bathilda for information, maybe about Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s experiments, and possibly unethically using Legilimency in those situations too. (More on Lily being manipulative here)

11. what i think of that character's friends

I’ve talked about that some here - I think the obvious answer to “where are Lily’s friends” is “they were horribly murdered” and it bothers me how people downplay the tragedy of the First War and its effect on Lily.

I like to go with Mary Macdonald and Marlene Mckinnon as her friends for several reasons. There's the alliteration (that also exists with Sirius and Snape - it's like Lily's found family got its own little naming pattern) and that the three of them could allude to the three Marys at Christ's resurrection, with Lily as the (not so Saintly) Virgin Mary, and the name Marlene apparently stems from Mary Magdalene.

Plus, Lily having one Muggleborn girl friend and one pureblood girl friend gives an interesting variation of dynamics to explore, and commonalities and culture clash, etc.

The dynamic between Lily and Mary also has the potential to be fascinating, because Lily being friends with her while Snape is tormenting her and Lily is defending him? Extremely spicy.

12. how i think their childhood was like

It was like, fine but I still HC some mild dysfunction amongst the Evans family. In that they're the kind of class conscious parents who see their children as idealizations vs. real people. They clearly didn't do anything to stop the fighting between Lily and Petunia, and I HC that when Lily got pregnant, it's not like they wouldn't accept her back or anything, but Lily also didn't entirely feel like she could live with them without their judgment - being pregnant at 19 and jobless and unmarried doesn't look good to the neighbors etc. Which made her more likely to accept James’s proposal.

I like this fic’s take on the dynamic (the excerpt is from a letter Lily’s writing to Mary Macdonald):

My parents are fine, you know - I mean since you're also muggleborn I suppose you do know. They ask me how I'm doing at school and how my classes are and the answer might as well be in Ancient Greek, but they nod along with it and smile and say they're sure I'll get top marks, etc. I think what they like more than anything else is that they've got a daughter in boarding school in

Sirius

7. my unpopular opinion on them

Sirius was severely physically abused by Walburga lol (and likely Orion too). People make Walburga into the kind of abusive parent that like, Molly Weasley canonically is - who screams at her children constantly and is very critical of them with high expectations and apparently uses corporal punishment often.

But none of Molly’s kids would have a complete breakdown if they were brought back to the Weasley house. Sirius’s situation pretty clearly implies extreme childhood trauma, which can take many forms (Harry was physically abused, but his situation is extreme even without it) but the details we get about the Blacks and Walburga really heavily imply physical abuse (…and tbh sexual abuse was also my first thought). There's also the fact that the magical world is centuries behind the Muggle world in terms of social progress, and so violent abuse is much more normalized (proven with Merope's situation, more on that here), which makes it even more likely that the Blacks (who are at the extreme end of that culture) are deeply violent.

15. my hc for their style

Predictably, leather jackets, and in general getting really into Muggle fashion.

16. what song i think they'd like

Cop Car by Mitski <3 Also I’m just projecting my taste onto Sirius some, but I think he’d love Velvet Underground. (Additionally, I HC Lily loving Nico and Chelsea Girl being her fav album).

[shoukiko]

I hope ya'll don't mind if I OC ramble a bit about Shouko. I still have a cold so I'm still on the verge of death.

Tags: @octiism, @wishesforyou, @konig-s-hood, @imtotallynormalmhmyes

I recently changed her up just a bit, like her last name and such 高村 - Takamura is her new surname, Taka (高) meaning "tall, high" (lol), and Mura (村) meaning "town, village"

Felt funny to give her a name like that when she's... tiny, which is a bit mean to myself since she's literally my height..

Her and Ghost's relationship is very much sunshine x grumpy, but to me when Ghost is Simon, he's not really that grumpy, he's just a chill dude, he just has to be more strict when he's Ghost.

They became close friends after she really just.... wanted to exist next to him all the little "May I sit here?" "Can I come?" "Did you eat?" "Can I ask for your opinion?"

sitting on the other end of a couch where he was, clutching her knees to her chest, just happy she's allowed to be near someone so respected.

She saw him as someone she could look up to, someone she could prove herself to, someone who wouldn't pity her or treat her differently because of her size. He showed her respect.

He enjoyed her company, it was refreshing to him, she wasn't overly excited, she knew when there was a time and place for everything, but if she had the time, she would jump up and squeal with excitement if she was happy.

Shouko met Ghost after being transferred from the US marines at the age of 20, she joined the military at 17 after moving to the US after some family matters ocurred.

She has pretty big eyes when she's not on the verge of death, poor girl needs sleep. Yaeba teeth are her charm point.

If I got to choose who would play her in a live action film, I would choose Shida Mirai (志田未来) Beautiful woman.

Shouko saw his face on accident after walking in on him washing his fash in the communal washroom, they locked eyes in the mirror and it was like a switch flipped in her, he was the singlehandedly most beautiful person she's ever seen aside from her mother. He wasn't upset really, mistakes happen, but he did get a bit uncomfortable after she stood there for a good 30 seconds not saying anything.

She wasn't there in Las Almas to see his face, she was briefed and brought in later, she helped with Price in the helicopter instead.

Shouko is also like, very much an airhead, if someone she trusts tells her something, she just takes their word for it, but obviously she's very smart and wellspoken because she has to be.

She's very knowledgable in a lot of things and takes the time to learn about random topics just for the fun of it, but when it comes to things like...

I'm using a conversation I had with my boyfriend as an example, just switching it to Ghost and Shouko.

Shouko: I never really see wind turbines a lot, I forget what they're used for.

Ghost, Obviously kidding: They're for cooling down the earth, hun.

Shouko: Wait, really?

Ghost, thinking how long he can keep this going for: Yep, they regulate the tempurature.. of the air. (Bullshitting)

Shouko: Oh. Huh okay then.

A day later, Shouko would tell maybe like her brothers or her friends about it. Noone telling her she's wrong because they just can't bring themselves to tell her, until her eldest brother Satoshi is like "The fuck are you on about?"

She'd race back to Ghost, SCREAMING about how she trusted him and how could she embarrass her like that, and he has his head in his hands, shaking, absolutely losing it, trying not to break down laughing because he didn't think she'd actually believe him.

Change Satoshi to one of my friends and... it actually happened, my bf still won't let me live it down... Fucker also made me think Sperm cramps were a thing ... ;-;

That is all, I will ramble more later, I love Shouko frfr

Now have more art of here I haven't shared (probably) All drawn by @wishesforyou <3

This one was drawn by me :3

[lamyaasfaraini]

Sunny monday

Menjelang 10.30 kudu bangun dari rebahan dan kemageran ini. Kebetulan InsyaAllah hari ini aku puasa bayar utang huhu ditemenin suami katanya mau jg. Yaudah pasang alarm 3.45 buat tahajud berjamaah dulu, sahur trus lanjut subuhan. Nahhhh jadi sepagian ini ya mager gt ya, biasanya nyiapin sarapan buat diri sendiri wkwk. Tiba2 udah jam 10.30 lagi siap2 aja karena udah mandi tadi pagi, tinggal cuci muka pake fash wash lalu skinkeran ngga lupa sunscreen!

Jam 11.00 brangkat dan baru keluar rumah dah terik gini matahari, coba ku fotoin langitnya biru bgt MasyaAllah tp bari kerung fotoinnya jg hahaha. Haaa akhirnya bangun jg dari zona nyamanku: kasur.. Kemon kita jalan kaki, palingan juga 2000 step sih yaa.. Ditengah terik matahari, gapake payung euy lupa wkwk.

Kirain panas teh segimana suhunya taunya cuma 26 derajat celcius.

Nemo keluar jam 11.30 lebih dikit lah, nyampe rumah belom kerasa haus cuma dikit kabita sama nemo makan eskrim greentea we drink pake roti wkwkwk. Trus fotoin buat ayahnya, aman katanya kebayang ngga itu eskrim ke tenggorokan hahaha dasar!

Sssstttt masih lama ke magrib weeeyy.. Semangaaat ah wkwk

[karilapio]

En ekalla kertaa lukenu tota enkku pätkää ku räjähti pää jo ennen sitä mutta on kai sekin patrioottinen potaska käytävä läpi. Tätä menoa musta tulee vielä sellanen rasittava tyyppi joka tekee 3 tunnin videoesseitä...

In English, the following screenshot is but romanticized, patriotic version of history that Finnish people are taught in primary schools (you know how you teach history to children you don't start with heyyy your country was ruled by horrible people, slaughtered its own citizens and allied with literal n*zis! You start with simplified, cleaned up version and get deeper into detail in higher education although patriotism never quite goes away) and romanticed fiction. There's been a culture of silence out of respect for the Veterans but very few exist today so we have finally started to critically examine our past. Well, some have. Outside Finland it's been given that Finns were willing allies with n*zis and all evidence supports this but in Finland... for many it is simply too shameful to even think about nevermind admit. One great example being Finns getting upset every time someone points out some parts of our air force STILL has a sv4stika on their flag! In memory of the n*zi tht gave us our first aircraft no less...

It's nothing new - USA does the same trying to white wash their wars as do pretty much every country who would want to look bad if they can tidy up their own story instead - so of course a former proud ally of the "baddies" tries to sweep the bad in our history under the rug (including the part rarely talked about Finland being the one starting conflicts against ussr in 20s before ussr indeed started the actual Winter War) and in doing so, we are unable to learn from our history and are doomed to repeat the same mistakes again - far right government has just been elected to power and despite having (in name only) social democrats in power last time even they have fallen so far away from left values they were the ones that lead us to become allies militarily once again with autoritarian/fash countries like Turkey, Hungary.. Poland bears honorable mention and of course USA, the biggest baddest in the worl. Not that its a competition. But many Finnish people only know USA from Hollywood and Turkey as a fun holiday resort so once again it would take another long post to even start debunking the propaganda and falsified image of those countries to Finns that don't even know their own history nevermind the here and now political situation of foreign countries.

It's okay, not everyone is interested in history or politics and that is fine - I for sure regret picking up history instead of say gardening as knowledge is pain and makes you sad but once you start learning you can not stop - but we have a saying in Finland "empty pots make the loudest noise" and my problem is more so with people who know the least seem to be the loudest in sharing their opinions. And agreeing the Emperor has nice clothes gets you better Results than daring to say the Emperor is not only naked he is waving a sv#stika flag.

And for a country that build it's prosperity through socialism and good relations with both west AND USSR, Finns today sure can be quite anticommunist, even those who claim to be "leftists". But that's another long post lol and I must confess it was a long road and a lot of reading, listening and thinking for me as well to shake those patriotic myths and propaganda thus I want to stay understanding as nobody is born with all the knowledge in the world and I prefer not to engsge direcrly as you can never know if a person with lazy thinking or shocking opinions online is indeed only 14... teens are entitlef to odd opinions! Or a school dropout (usually not their fault!) or an actual neon*zi. Any case, no reason to engage with people who do not ask to be educated, it can be seen both rude (nobody likes to get a well achtually in their mentions) and most often a waste of time as someone already defensive of their view is too hunkered down to accept new information.. Rather I will make posts of my own that people can either read or not - and can decide for themselves if what I have to say is worth a follow or unfollow. People learn at their own free will. Just like I did and am still doing myself

It's very telling that the screenshot left out the Civil War. It's just as important what is left out and why than what is included.

And getting into Ukr war would be a whole another can of worns I do not wish to open, but because I'm in my "Fuck It" era I will say this: if you absolutely need to compare the two wars the only good comparison between 1939 and 2022 would be how once again people in power care more about a plot of land than about the people living there.

Otherwise, you can not in good faith compare the two. Unless you are claiming ukr are n*zis and the capitalist oligargy hell that is russia today is somehow same same as ussr (which included ukr!!!) and that my friend is a Put1nist view. We do have those in Finland, our current election winner party is literally the Sister party of Put1ns and they only cut ties fairly recently to avoid "bad optics" but nobody talks about it!

Or, are you comparing Karelian separatists, a group (not all) who wanted to join Finland to ukrainan separatists in donbass who wanted to join Russia? This comparison would either make Finns in 1939 the bad guys or Russia today the good guys?? Do not think any of these are my opinions, I am simply trying to showcase by examples how comparing these vastly different conflicts in vastly different times does not work.

I doubt the screenshotted account meant it thisbeay either as it is clear they don't have very good knowledge about history or political climate of the era so it was just a logic gone wrong due missing information situation. As a Finn I can see how they might have come to the conclusion but it is a very surface level understanding and that's why you should not take your information solely from one source or social media - keep an open mind and challenge your views but don't trust anyone at face values, Including myself! Go ask a librarian for books about stuff from writers with opposing biases and you will find much more reliable information comparing how a finnish, russian, german, british etc writers tell the same story. Somewhere in the cross section lays a grain of truth. But its okay iif you are not that interested.. what is a Basic life skills in today's internet is source criticism, understanding everyone has a bias and possible an agenda whether they are open about it or not and being vary of anything that provokes a strong emotional reaction. When that happens, take a step back before engaging. That is what propagandist use so well and algorithms love. Once again that should have its own post lol what can I say world is complicated and I do t eqnt to write a novel on tunblr.

Last note about wikipedia

If you want to link sources, link actual sources NOT wikipedia. You can only think what kind of people would have time and agenda to be editing the pages about this stuff and it's not actual historians (mind you, many patriotic historians also exist, nobody is without bias as we are only human). Keeping a certain pure image of our country is important to many Finns, we are after all still sort of "Keep Face" culture as seen in my anecdote about not talking about atrocities our side committed out of respect to remaining veterans. But it is time we talk about the dark side of our history and stop spreading the romantizied myths or we will be doomed to repeat the same again and again...

[renee-writer]

Feelings Chapter 15

AO3

“We will miss ye” Mrs. Fitz fusses over her, making sure her coat is right and handing her a basket of provisions, “For the road. I ken how hungry a man can get and ye will have two of them.”

 

She laughs. Jamie and Murtagh are loading the wagon.

 

“Quite true.” Hugging the older lady close, “I will miss you too.”

 

“Aye, but your place is at Lallybroch as her Lady.”

 

“I don’t know how to be one.” She confesses in a whisper.

 

“Phish, ye do. Claire, just keep being yourself. Ye already are one.” Unexpected tears fill her eyes as she hugs her. Mrs. Fitz has became a mother to her and she will miss her terribly.

 

“You will write.”

 

“Aye, as I have the time. A letter here or there.”

 

“Every word will be treasured.”

 

Jamie comes up and says his goodbyes. Murtagh takes the basket, grins at Glenda, before placing it back where it goes.

 

“You see to our lass and yourself.”

 

“Aye, Mrs. Fitz. I shall.”

 

She pulls him close to whisper in his ear. “Take special care. I believe her to be with bairn.”

 

Jamie jerks, looking over at his bride, talking with Rupert and Angus.  “Are you certain?”

 

“Pretty sure. I ken the signs.”

 

“I washed my mouth out with whiskey so I can kiss you properly, Mistress Fraser.” Angus brags.

 

Rupert rolls his eyes. “That ye numpty, is no way to speak to a lady.” He turns to Claire, “Mistress,” He takes her hand and kisses it’s back, “God speed you on your journey.”

 

She is charmed by both of them.

 

“Thank you gentlemen.” She kisses each of their cheeks. They flush with pleasure.

 

“Murtagh, Mrs. Fitz believes Claire is with bairn.”

 

“She well could be.” He seems quite calm to his nephew and Godson ‘s internal chaos. He looks at him, “Dinna fash, Jamie. We shall get her home and all will be well.”

 

He nods and calls Claire over. They are soon on their way.

[asteralpine]

Hey so does anybody know why I'm getting so many fucking cystic zits on my face this week? I've gotten like three of them and my hydrocolloid patches aren't doing much. Helllllp. No new fash washes or moisturizers this week, though both are new in the past month (like, different from what I WAS using, though I've used them without issues in the past year, even!)

[444names]

MYSTERY POST #21

Abav Abolid Abong Agable Agaka Agalaw Agbaga Agma Akag Akzar Alphabaz Amahba Amake Amash Ambatte Amna Amzat Ansurfa Apwa Araba Arake Arau Arnatch Arry Arta Asakza Asal Attly Avata Azraa Badara Bagahaw Bala Bance Bangawa Baren Batter Battery Bave Bawara Belass Belle Bess Beyelate Bulta Bultatag Burbawab Burder Bute Cala Cally Catale Caused Cight Clala Claw Clawa Clider Clixir Coff Coffic Come Comet Comfore Comforew Conomit Cough Count Covement Covers Craculta Crawaga Cron Crower Crown Culan Culd Cull Cuter Cylice Cylicen Dafa Daka Dakaka Dakbava Datione Dawdag Dell Depriver Dicalaim Dist Distent Eadad Eara Eataga Eataha Educt Eniss Entran Examitem Excus Execuld Execut Exotion Expeniss Experday Expretty Exual Falan Fama Famast Fanalf Fanpass Farelata Fasaat Fasara Fash Fatheet Fava Fazama Flatedle Floan Float Flope Fook Foot Forelp Freflect Fron Gaba Gada Gadada Gadal Gagawa Gaint Gakasfa Ganpas Gara Gark Gasama Gase Gasnas Gatafana Gawa Gazama Gent Gioner Gongese Graiste Grogray Hadow Hafana Hagak Hakazra Hapa Harapa Hasal Havaha Hawas Hawta Hazrana Head Heada Heave Herve Hlagaw Hlal Hlalat Hlat Hlate Holle Homose Hook Hould Hource Houriss Idell Iderwa Inent Influent Inga Inquit Kabawak Kalale Kalsafa Karrip Kawa Kide Klal Ladv Lahagna Laistafa Lala Lansa Lataka Licke Lickla Liculle Linga Lish Lograin Logreat Loure Lovement Lover Lway Mahase Main Mainite Mainter Makad Makada Makak Make Malha Mamawa Mamval Mandfat Mappa Mappakva Mara Masak Mata Matafa Mation Mench Mide Millage Mirrone Missorb Mladara Mladaw Mood Mornite Mous Moveme Mover Naka Nalf Nallwa Namawaba Namzat Nanga Napahaw Nate Nawdada Nazamva Necks Nomaknas Older Ontic Orninge Pagakar Pagaway Pagda Painalf Paintly Pakva Pama Pamak Papant Parabafa Parnala Parta Partamda Pasgaba Pass Patance Pawa Pawtaga Pazava Peally Pecial Pense Piket Pikety Plate Port Premala Preven Prinst Pristic Proat Prob Proble Pronly Quick Quily Raddent Radder Radistep Rakapa Rakasa Rance Rand Rant Rapazaka Rateau Rawava Refool Refoold Relp Remalat Remalhas Rese Reservat Revide Revioute Ristafa Rister Roach Ronest Roweleth Rowesten Saata Sabdal Sadama Safamkar Sahava Sakav Samva Samvala Saplas Sass Sastate Sawama Sazamva Scall Sect Sercept Shakza Shata Shillow Shortick Shudden Sider Sidersa Silvers Skele Skidnapa Sking Skulle Skulture Slowele Snate Sneezer Sold Somak Somic Sorgasa Spening Spense Sper Squain Squana Squite Stal Struth Sturba Suble Subletop Sugge Surangag Swaha Tagampav Tagark Takan Takzaz Tapna Tapnaw Tatak Teary Tent Theata Theird Ther There Thinve Ticke Tonent Track Tracte Tral Tran Trange Trat Trect Troble Troubly Twawa Uppa Uppeat Vabakana Vakapa Vakatag Vaman Vara Varafa Vass Vide Visity Vlawa Vlawaga Wabapa Wabawa Waffa Waga Wagbat Waha Wakarack Walab Walwaka Wana Warhawas Wasa Wash Wastana Wattle Wavahan Wawabawa Weach Whaw Wheave Whic Wought Wrism Wronge Yest Zabake Zabdalka Zanag Zanava Zant Zapala Zasag Zashous Zaste Zavab Zawa Zawar