#i got to use the slate again n that's like the full extent of my cooperation today. i will attempt to be more active and demanding tomorrow

[crowfeathers]

I just realized my comics prof was talking about an ingmar bergman movie earlier wtf. she totally gets me *almost never talks to her*

[taronfanfic]

Fast Forward

Chapter 7

It took 2 minutes and 30 seconds of lying in your cold, single, childhood bed before you threw the covers back and padded softly down the hallway carpet to the guest bedroom. Taron let out a loud laugh when he saw the door opening and then remembered to keep the volume down when you placed your fingers to your lips.

“That was hardly worth the effort of leaving in the first place.” He giggled more softly as he pulled the covers back and invited you in. You shrugged back to him as you climbed in and snuggled up against his side.

“Got to at least make it look like I tried though, right?”

“If you say so…”

“I wish my parents were more like your Mum. She didn’t think twice about us sharing a room when we stayed at hers.”

“She’d have thought it was weirder if we didn’t!” You felt Taron’s hand start to rub up and down your thigh beneath the covers.

“Exactly; she’s normal!”

“Your parents aren’t not normal. They’re just… old fashioned.”

“Bloody ancient!” You giggled.

“Sometimes being traditional is cute though, it can be more romantic to do things the proper way.” He took a long look into your eyes, tucking the hair which fell down the side of your face behind your ear.

“Bit late for the whole no sex before marriage thing with us though.” You sniggered.

“Fuck, that would be torture. It’s already hard enough to keep my hands off you tonight.”

“I never said you had to…” You teased as you moved across to straddle Taron and placed your hands to his bare chest. “Why do you think I came back in here?”

“You said I had to be on my best behaviour though, and if I stand any chance of getting your Mum on side…” His words didn’t match the look in his eyes, his pupils darkening with arousal as he leant forward and took the kiss you had on offer.

“Better be quiet then, hadn’t we?” You giggled. “She’ll never know!”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely, it’s making me feel like a naughty teenager and I love it.”

“Rebel.” Taron kissed you again passionately as his hands roamed up your thighs to your waist. He took a firm grip and turned you down onto your back so he could kiss you from above. “How are we gonna do this quietly? We’ve never been quiet!”

“Don’t stop kissing me.” You didn’t give Taron chance to respond again as you ran your hand up the side of his neck and pulled him back down to meet your lips. The heat from his body was claustrophobic, the feel of his hips grinding down into you making you feel trapped but seriously horny. As you moaned into the kiss you felt his hand tugging your underwear to the side so he could slide two fingers inside you. It made your back arch up off the bed, the kiss breaking off for a second as Taron smiled at how wet you were for him.

“God, get me in there already.” He sighed quietly as he stroked against your inner wall and then started to kiss you again.

“Mmm, do it.” You encouraged as you wrapped your leg up and over his arse.

“Yeah?”

“Quietly though.”

“Alright!” He giggled before pulling away so you could both quickly undress.

Stifling your moans was a challenge. Every time Taron thrust up into you you tried to control your breathing and hold it back, but soft whines kept escaping. Taron was no better, panting loudly next to your ear as he found his rhythm, and groaning involuntarily as the pleasure built. You tried to pull Taron’s face back to yours so you could silence him with your lips, but you never managed to kiss him. He hit your sweet spot and you let out a whispering ‘fuck’ as you clung on to the back of his neck and screwed your eyes tightly shut. As things heated up, Taron upped his pace. The headboard of the bed started to knock against the back wall and he reached up above you to try and hold it still as he continued to fuck you. There was no chance of either of you stopping things, despite the obvious sound that was vibrating through the rest of the walls of the house.

“Argh, come on.” He groaned in frustration as the noise had distracted him.

“Shall we move?” You whispered back.

“To where?”

“Floor?”

“Not exactly comfy.”

“Well I’m hoping we won’t be down there for long!” You giggled as Taron had now completely stopped inside you.

“Switch to doggy and we’ve got this.” You kissed him eagerly at that idea and he practically rolled out of bed, kneeling down on the small stretch of carpet at the end of the bed as he waited for you to get in position. From then on there was no holding back; you both knew what you wanted and needed and as Taron slid back into you with ease you pushed your hips back to meet him and pick up exactly where you were a few seconds before.

It was the quietest release that you’d ever heard from Taron, a low whimper of a groan as he continued to thrust into you until he felt you come undone around him too. You held your cry in, arching your back and struggling to stop your arms from collapsing beneath you.

“Fuck, we’re good.” Taron sighed as he pulled out and slowly caressed his fingers up and down your bum.

“I really hope we got away with that.”

“Only time will tell, now get this pretty arse back in that bed before you get cold.” The gentle slap he left behind made you giddy, and you couldn’t help but think that even if your parents had heard what just happened it was one hundred percent worth it.

***

The commotion had started before you’d joined everyone else in the kitchen for breakfast, so you lingered a bit longer in the bedroom after your shower to fully assess the extent of the damage.

“It’s just disrespectful.” You heard your Mum say firmly.

“I know, we weren’t thinking. I’m sorry.” Taron replied calmly. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach as you knew it was unfair for him to be taking the full force of the backlash to the night before’s action; but at the same time you found yourself covering your smile with the back of your hand at the image of Taron being told off by your Mum. Maybe now he’d see why you’d put off the family introductions for so long.

“I made myself perfectly clear when you first arrived, and you seemed to grasp the arrangement swiftly… and what with everything that’s gone on already, I was doing my best to give you a fair chance.”

“That’s pushing it, Jane.” Your Dad stepped in and tried to be more realistic. “You’ve not been that friendly to Taron, and it’s really not that bad. They’re young and in love and don’t need those kinds of restrictions. You know how Y/N is, give her a line and she’s the first to step over it.”

“Don’t try and put this on her, Michael. Did he tell you about the other girl he was seeing at the same time as Y/N when they first started dating?”

“I did.” Taron added.

“Really?” Your Mum sounded as surprised as you felt when you heard Taron say that. He’d not mentioned it to you the night before, not even when you told him that you’d had to tell your Mum.  

“Look, he’s only human. It was a mistake that made him see sense and he’s been fully invested in Y/N ever since. Cut him some slack, will you?”

You felt like that was the perfect time to try and quietly slip into the kitchen and salvage some breakfast before it ended up being thrown across the room, but as you sat down next to Taron at the table all eyes fell to your face.

“Morning.” You smiled as if you hadn’t heard the rest of conversation.

“How did you sleep?” Your Mum asked. There was a pause as you looked suspiciously between Taron and your Dad and watched your Dad cast Taron a subtle wink.

“It’s ok, they know.” Taron reached out for your arm and smiled warmly to you.

“Right. Ermm… fine thanks, you?”

“Could have been better.”

“Sorry about that.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically.

“If only you were.” Your Mum sighed as she poured a mug of tea and handed it over to you.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t insisted that we have separate rooms-”

“Y/N, don’t.” Taron cut you off quickly and for the first time in your life you held back on the rest of your sentence and took a sip of your tea instead.

“Maybe he has his uses after all!” Your Mum quipped and you felt Taron’s hand drop to your thigh under the table to keep you held back from throwing a shady comment in reply. It had taken less than 24 hours for him to see that you two knew exactly which buttons to press to get a reaction. In the same time he’d worked out when he needed to let you have your say, or fun in last night’s case, and when it would be best for everyone if you could bite your tongue. Not even your Dad could keep that level of balance between you and your Mum.

“Can we just stop all this now, please.” Your Dad sighed. “Y/N has brought Taron here so we can get to know him, Jane, and if you two carry on like this then we never will… We’ve not even asked how they met!”

“Ok, ok, fine. I don’t want you getting stressed out, Michael, so let’s wipe the slate clean and I’ll try to keep an open mind.” Your Mum agreed as she sat down at the end of the table and took a tight grip around her mug of tea. “So, tell us how you met.”

There was a shared look of wide-eyed fear between you and Taron as you both paused and hoped the other one would take the lead.

Taglist: @egerton-sweetie  @amanda-tallmadge @lizziespidiepridie @leanimal90 @anantheminmyheart22 @aynsleywalker​ @bohemianrhapsody86​ @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @manners-maketh-taron @livingincompletesilence@marvelmakeuplover @ohsosmutty@misspygmypie  @manners-maketh-a-kingsman@courtmr @baileythepenguin@thomaslefteyebrow @witchymarvelspacecase @samanthasmileys@nellietara @i-cant-remember-my-old-login @wheresmylightinthedark@kurtis-conner@hoe4dior @toky-9101 @mayaslifeinabox@fluentlyspeakingtreason @yallyallblanchett @whiskeylipsx@emmaelizabeth2014​ @primaba11erina @fightuntilyoucan @carlita2025 @rocknrollmadden

[my-love-peterp]

Mistaken Chapter Two

Word Count: 2000 THERE ARE NO ENDGAME SPOILERS, THIS IS A DELAYED UPLOAD FROM AO3

Fic Summary: Peter Parker has been given the responsibility of bringing in a new recruit. Now, as an adult, he realizes that none of the trashy YA novels he read in high school could have prepared him for this. There was a storm on the horizon, and all they could do from the Tower is watch.

Chapter Summary: Things get messy and so does Kaida. We all have our past traumas. But not all coping mechanisms are created equally. Or: two kindred spirits find themselves at the right time for the wrong reasons.

Warnings: language, underage (barely) drinking, smutty smut, mentions of the snappening, again NO ENDGAME SPOILERS

A/N:  Good morning! Chapter Three will be out tonight. You may have seen me over @fabtasticass which is my main blog. So this is my first fanfic and it’s going to be a big one. It is a Soulmates AU but not in the traditional way. That won’t show up until later chapters. I’m going to try to keep endgame a secret the best I can. I have some very angsty ups and downs planned but I’m trying to hold back. So I’ll tag each chapter with what pairing might be in that chapter in the official Tumblr tags but never at the beginning.

Chapter One

The nightmares were relentless. Watching your sister literally turn into dust before your eyes would probably to that to anyone. However, while I still suffered and could barely sleep, it seemed that the world had all but moved on. Everyone was back and grateful to be.

I never would be again. Nadia and I, we had a telepathic connection, not unlike that of soulmates, biologically. Or so we were told. To feel that instantly ripped away from me, well, let’s just say things got bloody and fast. But that’s not something I ever wanted to think of again.

And because the universe had some grudge against me, particularly, she never returned. Whatever fates guided the justice of the stones had decided not to return her.

Her last words both haunted and condemned me.

She lay on the couch, fading, a pleading look entering her eyes. “Find him Kay, you’re all he has now of his real family. Find him.” Him. Her son. Kept a secret from everyone, even our employers. She’d given him up for his own safety, knowing that the alternative was a lifetime of experiments and servitude. But of course we kept tabs on him as he grew, a bouncing three year old with shiny blonde hair and a personality bigger than this world. If I hadn’t seen her give birth to him herself, I would never have believed they were biologically related. The only thing they shared was her slate gray eyes. 

I had failed to save her, and even now had never looked for him. Not after that day. So every night I would relieve that moment, over and over again, that agony, despair and overwhelming guilt.

Sometimes, I could swear I still felt her in my mind, filling the cavernous vacancy that was her.

Thank god I had my own kitchen. The fewer questions I had to answer the better.

My official training had been postponed due to a long mission the Captain and Wanda were on overseas. Stark was guest lecturing at MIT for a few weeks, something about the interconnected worlds of science and mysticism. But because everyone was off on separate secret missions, I was in an empty tower. Even Clint and Natasha were nowhere to be seen.

I’d been living at Avengers Tower for a few days with this same routine when finally, I got restless and decided I needed to break out. I’d never done well with cages, no matter how high tech.

Director Nick Fury had run down all the rules and curfews for new recruits.

Spidey had actually been the person forced to help me unpack my meager belongings into my new suite of rooms. It was probably the only time I’d smiled since that night.

I’d managed to get out of that place with a backpack, duffle bag, and two suitcases. Peter had lifted the larger of the two suitcases rather easily but still gave me an incredulous look.

“What did you put in here? Bricks???” He stooped down and unzipped the case, his goofy plaid shirt untucking from his khakis, exposing the briefest glimpse of rippling lean muscles.

“What the-,” he choked out in that silly high pitched voice of his, that was actually kind of adorable. “You ran away, from whatever it is that you ran from… and you packed your biggest suitcase full of books?”

I had simply shrugged and replied, “I’m nothing if not totally impractical at all times,” before turning on my heel and carrying the duffle bag to the walk-in closet. I had felt Peter’s eyes on my back the whole way there until you kicked the door shut, more out of playful spite than anything.

Anywho, because of all the ruckus, the extent of my powers hadn’t been cataloged or tested, so it was very unlikely they were prepared for your ability to fade into the shadows of any place I existed.

In my bathroom, after having showered, shaved and put my best ‘fuck me’ face of makeup, I pulled on a white lace bodysuit, with deep, scalloped cleavage and floating transparent sleeves and a pair of nearly tattered, high-waisted daisy dukes. Paired with white stiletto combat boots, it was a killer outfit.

Melting into the shadows, I caught myself grinning in twisted anticipation and flitted out the door.

The club was packed, which was perfect for me after about two drinks. My anxiety with crowds melted away and I was finally able to give in and fade into the pulsing rhythm of the crowd. Here, I was truly invisible.

Crowds only served to remind me of a time in my life that was best left forgotten.

Deep breaths, Kaida, deep breaths.

When the breathing stopped working, there was always tequila. One shot, two.

Ten.

Dancing on other people, on the bars and chairs and tables. For the first time in months, I felt my inhibitions lift. I even made some drunk friends in the bathroom. The sober one among them was able to get me in a cab right before the last call and I directed him to Avengers Tower.

My skin crawled the entire way back, heat rushing down my spine and spreading throughout my body. Apparently, I still had some steam to work off. Luckily I had just the B.O.B.

Fanning myself, I reached into the little pearly clutch I kept with me on nights like these and grabbed a hair tie, pulling my tumbling curls up and off my neck, praying to instantly transport back to my room. I wasn’t totally positive my body didn’t have spontaneous combustion on the agenda.

Fortunately, that’s when my cab driver announced we had reached our destination. I paid him and tipped quite handsomely, as I hadn’t really had to pay for any of my drinks that night or pay the entrance fee. Mutant perks and all.

Despite my inebriated state, I was able to lift off and fly up to the floor that held my rooms, once I was in the gaping lobby of the tower.

Only one problem. Every door looked the same.

Stopping in front of the door that looked the most like my own in this drunken stupor, I took a moment before collapsing through the door, only to find an older man sitting at the kitchenette counter, nursing what looked to be about his sixth scotch and holding an ice pack to his left eye.

The man was attractive. Old enough to be my dad, but fine as hell.

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he took in the full state of my undress in sweaty club clothes and he shifted uncomfortably on the metal stool he sat upon.

“You, sir, are just what the doctor ordered,” I said as I swaggered toward him. As I approached his stool, I reached toward his face, as though I intended to cradle it in my palm, his eyes glazing over with desire and intoxication, before faking him out as he began to lean in and snatching the tumbler out of his hands and downing the entirety of the contents.

He gasped, whether in indignation or out of pure attraction I was unsure.

“That scotch you just drained like swill costs about $13,000. By the way, who are you and what are you doing in my rooms? And aren’t you a little young to be drinking and going out looking like… like-“, he cut himself off as I slid my barely covered ass up and back onto the counter he was perching in front of.

“Does it matter who I am,” I asked, tipping my head to the side with an exaggerated pout from my crimson-painted lips. “But if you must know, my name is Kai, and I’m more than old enough to know how to keep up with a guy like you, Mr. Stark.”

He groaned at the sound of my rough, ‘sex voice’ using such formalities with him. Tony looked me up and down, staring as I tantalizingly slid my hand up my thigh, pulling my shorts higher and higher, revealing your lace covered sex bit by bit. After all, these shorts were mostly holes with a side of denim and loose enough to give everyone a sneak peek. My knees were shoulder level with Tony Stark’s shoulders, the Iron Man, more or less my new boss/landlord, but I couldn’t care less.

“See something you like Mr. Stark,” I purred at him in that voice again. This snapped Tony to attention and he shot to his feet, crowding my space, forcing my back down flat on the counter top.

“I’d like it a lot better if you’d shut up and let me take you right here.”

“How presumptuous of you Mr. Stark, you’re old enough to be my father. Do you really think you could handle me?” 

Hey if you don’t want to read smut, it starts right here, I’ll tell you where to jump to:

The line would have landed a lot better if I hadn’t also let out a breathless gasp as Tony pulled my knees apart and rubbed his nose along my clothed slit, his facial hair scraping my inner thigh, sending flurries of pleasure up my spine, my flash breaking out in goose-bumps.

“We’ll see if you can handle someone with my expertise little girl, just don’t call me daddy,” he growled before ripping my pants down to your ankles and tossing them behind his head before he ripped off my body suit out of impatience despite my protests that quickly dissipated as he began to feast and suck up all my wetness, tongue pistoning in and out, driving my senses wild. He had me falling apart around him in minutes, obviously more talented than any other man I’d ever been with.

“That’s one Ms. Stone, how many more do you think you can take?” Tony teased me as I struggled to sit upright after that onslaught. Instead of answering, I kissed him, hard. Teeth banging together and tongues exploring each other’s mouths I was decently surprised to discover he tasted like honey and blackberries as well as me.

Tony lifted me up and off the counter by gripping my ass and sliding me towards him, encouraging me to wrap my still trembling legs around his waist.

Instead of complying, I pried myself out of his grasp and slid down to my knees in front of him, palming his clothed hard on.

“I believe this is what they call reciprocation Stark. Or perhaps, payback.”

The night continued on as such until you both were sated and absolutely exhausted.

*********************************End Smut ***************************************

The next morning I woke up right before 7 am with the urgent need to relieve myself. Yanking with my slightly enhanced strength, I pulled the bed sheet out from under Tony, opting to rush out the door and into my own room. Pulling the door towards myself, I was hit with bright hallways and muttered conversations.

Quietly cursing my luck, I pulled the bed sheet tighter around my cleavage before lifting my chin high and proudly marching down the corridor to my own chambers.

I heard Pietro mutter a question to Peter, whose eyes were bulging out of their sockets. “She’s uh… she’s the new recruit we brought in while you all were in Wakanda… Did she just come out of Mr. Stark’s rooms??”

“Take a picture boys, it’ll last longer,” I had finally reached her door, having passed the two gawking boys when she let Tony’s sheet pool around my ankles, revealing my stomach, much softer than it used to be, ample cleavage pushed up by my white lace bra and my shorts that had truly seen better mornings, but still worked to cover my body decently. A choked gasp and a hacking fit were the only responses from Spidey and the silver-haired man I hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet.

As soon as the doors to my suite closed, I fell to my knees, panting through a panic attack before pulling myself together half an hour later to shower and change into my training uniform that Happy had delivered to my rooms yesterday. It was my first official day as a part of the team. And judging by the way it had started, I might need a drink sooner rather than later.

So we’re starting to get more into the head of Kaida, little glimpses into her backstory. She’s very loose-canon and errs on the side of self-destruction. Anyways, I’m formatting Chapter Three right now. I’m so enthused by the response, I really didn’t expect anyone to see this but I’m hype. 

tags: @laurfangirl424 @peeterparkr @private-bucky-barnes

[lunatichronicles-blog]

“On Kavanaugh....”

Reflections.....

I would guesstimate at least 75% of the women growing up in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. In the 60's-80's knew a “Brett Kavanaugh” or two...or a whole lot more. Attending H.S. In Northern Va in the late 60's-early 70's, the “extra-curricular” leisure activities of the day for the typical h.s. student often revolved around games, cruising, walk-outs, sit-ins, protests, passionate causes, partying, heading in to Georgetown/D.C., going to Ocean City, & Rehobeth Beach and yes...drinking and smoking pot....sometimes maybe something a little more, like “Mother's little helpers”! We were “experimenting”, breaking out of our Beaver Cleaver upbringings with June and Ward, caught between “good-girls, our peers, and “sex, drugs, rock n roll”, in an uproarious time period politically and socially. We wanted to be very “anti-establishment”, and “free”, and “Make Love not War”, but we always had the right to say NO, and expect a decent boy to respect that even if we might have been having too “free” of a time! After all, most of the boys I knew were raised in “middle, upper-middle, and upper-class” homes by Veterans of WWII and the Korean War, while also going into and out of Vietnam. There wasn't a whole lot of “diversity” in those areas back then, and there were also those “privileged-preppy” kids that went to the various surrounding schools and had their Country Clubs and their cock-tailing folks, many of which knew nothing about what was going on with their kids under their own damn roofs, because they were too self absorbed or stressed or adulting themselves....but were there little Bretts? Hell yes, always have been! Let's see...Mama was a judge, Daddy was a “God”, and little Brett was an only child, a spoiled, well groomed little wuss always expected to excel and be athletic like his Dad?...Momma probably got him out of various DUI's over the years with her judgeship and knowing lots of other “elites” of the day in the same various social circles of the Country Clubs, tennis courts, pools, parties, and bars of the day...the climate was lush for lush's and letches!! Full court press, Masher, Chester, Sex Offender. Privileged, Entitled, Empowered, Enthused, Emboldened, and put on a pedestal...they were sure to fall..... eventually. Karma's a bitch.

    I still have a calendar from my Sr. year of h.s.! Why did I keep it? It got tucked away with some other memorabilia, along with a  little notebook diary I kept BRIEFLY, since it was discovered and read by my Mother...but I digress, in any case, I kept these things for sentimental reasons. Everybody had “fun, fun, fun til their Daddy took the t-bird away....” seems we didn't mind drinking and driving back in the day, and there were more than a few occasions when (regrettably) I was a bit “foggy” on the drive home with a friend, or group of friends; or even who's house, or party we were even at...all we might have known or needed to know was the suggestion of someone having a party and “so n so” was gonna be there, so we went. There were always all kinds of things going on in the rooms of the houses and you really were so focused on yourself that you couldn't possibly know the full extent of everything going on and all the various activities being “engaged in”. Sometimes there were parents, sometimes, Not. I was a “good girl” sexually thru h.s. Were there times I may have “teased” or “lead someone on”? Yes. BUT. As long as I could put the brakes on, it was okay. I may not have “remembered” every “boy kissed”, or date with whom, HOWEVER... The Pervs and the Chesters and the took-it-too-far's I've never forgotten. I suspect most women don't since something was STOLEN, and taken UNWILLINGY (unless, heart-breakingly..they may have been roof-ied, or the experience was repressed). I was very fortunate on two occasions that there were “real men” (boys/buddies, friend's, classmates) that were there to “help” with the unwelcome advances and nip it in the bud, or punish the “behavior”. There were however, a couple occasions when no one was around to defend me, but me. While I was able to extricate myself from rape, there were things that happened that were unwelcome and guilt- ridden and shameful horrible memories that make you feel dirty and like trash, and like it was your fault. I've never shared those with anyone. Not even my husband of 35 years. It was “embarrassing”, and spoke to MY character. I have a friend who was  molested by her Dad who she always “stood by” out of guilt, shame, and protection of a younger sibling. It has affected her entire life. A relative was taken advantage of  by an older male relative. A majority of friends I've ever had in the “service industry”, or secretarial world were regularly rebuffing unwelcome advances, touches...from client/customers, and superiors, or persons you “answered to” Thinking back on it now, all these “men”, or “boys” were more “powerful” in some way....whether in authority, position, age, strength, or “station in/of life”. The kinds of kids or men than can “ruin a reputation”, and not have another thought about it on their rise to power and empowerment. Whether young and in a “clicque”, or in a “boys will be boys”, or “good-ol-boys network”! Fortunately there were a whole lot more “Father Know's Best”, and boys of character back then, that held themselves to a decent set of standards. “Good guys”(not mafioso!), who may have “tried” to cross the line “a little”; but knew when “enough was enough”, and when they were “pushing their luck”, and gonna get their “hand slapped”! They were the majority. At least that was my experience. Good decent guys, good decent girls trying our best to “feel our way thru” and navigate the quickly changing “groovy” time waves of past and present. But again, there WERE the “Brett's, the Bill's, Harvey's, Charlie's, Les'. Enter Me2, Karma, and “Revolution” (again. It's all a process isn't it? Growth generally comes with changes – good and bad).  Sometimes things come around to bite you in the ass. Sometimes they're undeserved, sometimes not. “We're mad as hell and we're not gonna take it any more”. These experiences are painful. We like to tuck them away and leave them in the past. Sometimes your past has a way of “presenting”. IF you share, you face the inevitable “she was asking for it”, and the victim is put in a defensive posture b/c girls and women are “meant to be demure”, and you were some kind of a liberal bitch,or trying to “SMEAR” a man if you did. WHY? The more we hear and learn and share, the healthier we are becoming as women. The more we are breaking out of the traditional roles set forward on us by men of power and our great grandmas (or our own Mom's and sisters, many of whom are living with their own UNshared UNwelcome UNhealthy experiences, and are UNable to clean their slate an ease their pain and mind because of their sense of self preservation) the stronger more respected we will be, and equality I guess, we will have to and are beginning to “demand”.  If that makes us a “Bitch” to anyone, then THEY have the problem. A real man welcomes total inclusion and equality and is nt threatened. Denying an inappropriate sexual encounter occurred, doesn't make it better and your ability to move on is ultimately inhibited from your own inhibition.

Ambition and the lack of moral character along with being groomed, led, and promised by being a “good boy”, and doing what was “expected of you” I imagine would be it's own Hell. But for some, the path they chose. Now pay the piper, and this time you don't pass go. Wake up the old men. Shake them to their core of safe and warm. I want more RBG's, more Sondra Sodamier, Meghan McCains, Feinsteins, and Ferrara's, “Dr. Patriots”, and my friends...at least we as women can stand in solidarity for our own sex. WHY would we not believe someone elses's truth when we KNOW we've all had Unwelcome Encounters of the Non-Extraterrestrial kind!! About the Supreme Court Nominee - Shouldn't we actively attempt to (I'll go out on a limb here) hire some more diverse humans on the highest most respected court in our USA? Like perhaps another Woman?! Agenda-less, Un-biased, Even handed, Fair, Respected, Independent, Patriot, someone with a “calling” that earns our respect for upholding and translating, and changing if necessary, the laws of our nation to make them fair and truly just for ALL in our ever-changing ever shifting, ever-learning, ever growing nation. A nation that can be under the rule of inclusion, acceptance, and an inability to accept this wanton, ugly self-centered, lawlessness of humanity.  W-O-W-U “Wake UP WOMEN Unite” !!!The end...for tonite...BSE 9/28/18