#if any of you make this weird i'm hitting the block button so fast

[three--rings]

Car Accidents for Writers and/or The Curious

So two days ago (as of first writing it's now been two weeks) I was in a major car accident at highway speed. Luckily, I'm mostly okay, my car protected me and only my heel is broken. But going through that was an experience and a very weird and foreign one so I wanted to write it down, especially for any writers depicting car crashes.

So first of all I was driving a brand new 2023 Kia Forte. A car with lots of technical bells and whistles, full modern safety everything. Thank god, although it was only 3 months old, it probably saved me from further injury.

So what happened immediately before the crash is what I'm most hazy about in my mind. I remember seeing the car on the left, it was at a crossroads where my highway traffic doesn't stop, but the crossroad traffic does. So I THINK the other car was stopped at the intersection when I first saw him, but honestly I am not sure. I saw the car, it was heading for the space in front of me, and I had time to think "he's gonna see me and stop right...what the FUCK" --impact.

(Edit: Two weeks later - Upon thinking more about it, I think that I saw him start to move but thought he was surely turning right, because he wouldn't go straight when I was right there. It would have been perfectly legal for him to turn right then. But then by the time I realized he wasn't turning and was coming right for the space in front of me...it was too late to do anything.)

Rest of the post cut for EXTREME Length as well as accident details and medical details of the ER trip both of which could be triggering. Nothing bad or gory or anything, just, some people might not want to read them.

I think I may have actually been yelling WHAT THE FUCK as I hit him. It felt like I had a split second to hit the brake, which was not nearly enough time to accomplish something. In that I did hit the brake but it barely slowed me before I hit. I was traveling around 70 mph (which is the speed limit there).

So the impact. All I remember is sudden whiteness blocking my view, along with the force, something impacting me in the face. I had a split second where I thought "Okay this is it, this is real, I might be about to die." (Note: I was also able to accurately report where on the car I hit (rear passenger door) but not the type of car. I said sedan, but it was a minivan. I said white, it was silver.)

Oh and right as the impact happened, as I saw the door of the car I was about to hit, right before the airbag popped, I had the thought/sensation of "wait, no, do it again, wait rewind, wait, reload the game." It was the sensation that I, as a gamer, have when I fuck up in a video game. The instinct that has you reach for the pause button or the reload button or whatever. That's what I felt, except of course it was real life and I couldn't try that again.

So the air bag popped and blocked all of my view, so I suddenly had no idea where I was, which way I was headed, etc. Except the car was still moving, my foot was probably/possibly still on the brake and my hands were I think still on the wheel. (All of this, I don't really know for sure.) Probably not still steering, but I feel like I was? IDK.

The next thing I knew I felt a second impact as my car hit a metal pole with a highway sign on it, shearing it off entirely. I saw the sign fly past my car through whatever gap was visible to the upper left side past the airbag. So I knew what I had hit. After that I was on grass and the car came to a pretty quick stop. (note this car also has auto-braking when it senses something in front of you, but obviously it couldn't stop itself fast enough either. )

So the car stopped and I was sitting there and my first thought was "okay I have to get out of the car." I could smell smoke and oil/fluidy smells and my car was making a bunch of weird sounds so I was scared it might catch on fire or whatever. So I reached under the side airbag which was blocking the top half of the door and opened my car door, which opened fine. I undid my seatbelt and grabbed for my phone from it's place on the center console under the dash. I knew in my dazed brain that my phone was Important. I needed to Call Someone? Maybe 911? Maybe my husband?

So, clutching my phone in a death grip (not thinking about taking anything else) I crawled under the side airbag and basically fell out of the car onto the grass.

Immediately upon trying to get out I knew my right ankle was hurt. I've had a lot of ankle sprains in my life and I looked down and saw it starting to swell and knew I couldn't stand on it.

Pretty much immediately, or within seconds there were people there. There was a gas station on the corner so either they were there or they were stopped at the intersection waiting to turn going the opposite direction from me. (God I've just thought I could have easily hit them if I'd gone left instead of right. . . that was lucky.)

The two people who arrived, who had witnessed it were a black man and a white woman, I can vaguely picture them, though couldn't pick them out of a lineup fyi. They kept offering to help me up and I told them no, my ankle is hurt, I can't stand. They asked if anyone was in the car and needed help and I said no. As new people arrived I heard them tell new people that no one was trapped. I guess I was vaguely aware that there was a second car also stopped, but I filed that under Someone Else's Problem and focused on me.

Oh wait, I've just remembered I think I was standing on one foot, holding onto the door at first, when the woman came up and asked if I was hurt. Because I was brushing off my front...so here we get into weird details okay. So I was wearing a steel boned corset under my clothes that I always wear when I go out, for back support. It's custom made by me. And I noticed right away that the impact had bent the front busk of the corset. This is a heavy duty steel busk, extra wide, so it's almost 2.5" wide piece of heavy steel. And instead of my stomach impacting the steering wheel or WHATEVER, it bent it up to almost a 90 degree angle.

So I was noticing that, but also, I thought I might be on fire. I was very HOT. My clothes were hot to the touch, the front of my dress felt like it had almost been singed. I kept touching and checking myself to make sure I wasn't on fire anywhere because of how hot my clothes felt. I assume this is from the air bags and the force of the impact and the explosions that send them out...IDK. But yeah I was hot. So I kept touching my stomach and clothes and people kept asking if I was hurt and I said "No, I don't think so, just my ankle."

At first, though, I couldn't form words. People were asking if I was okay and I couldn't answer. I think maybe I nodded. So my responses were probably more like Yes and No and "Ankle" than I remember. I just remember some serious floaty, disconnected, stunned mindset where I couldn't make words right. Lasted maybe less than a minute or a minute or two, not sure.

Basically I laid on the ground and just breathed and tried to chill for a few minutes, responding as people came up and asked me things. I think I repeated a couple of times "he just drove right in front of me..." and witnesses backed me up, saying they were there and saw the whole thing and yeah he just drove right out in front of me.

Throughout this, the surreal thing was that my car was still running and still playing my music. So poppy Janelle Monae was playing from my car. I finally was able to coordinate enough to pause Spotify on my phone so it stopped. I asked one of the bystanders if he could turn my car off with the on/off button because I was worried about it.

A state trooper arrived fairly quickly and came over and asked me first if I was hurt and if anyone else was in the car. I told him about my ankle and no. He said "okay you just sit there [on the grass] that's probably the best place for you. EMS is on their way, should be a few minutes." To which I nodded. He then asked me for my ID. I told him it was in my purse which he fetched from inside the car and handed to me to find my wallet and pull out my ID. He asked me for my basic version of the accident, which I was pretty vague about "I was driving and he just pulled right in front of my car and I only had a split second to brake."

He asked which direction I was traveling, how fast I was going. When I hesitated over that answer he said "highway speed?" and I said "yeah, 70-75." I was slightly worried about admitting I was technically speeding to a cop, but he just nodded and was very chill about everything, so I wasn't TOO worried. He asked a little more after a couple minutes like which direction the other car was coming from and which lane I was in." Then he said he was going to talk to the other driver. At which point I remembered there was another human being involved and I asked if they were okay and he said yeah seems like it, they're just a little queasy from the seatbelt.

So from where I was on the grass and not moving, basically I was sitting in the V formed by my car and the open driver door, so I couldn't see the other car and had literally no idea about the other driver, couldn't have told you their gender or race or anything. I never saw them. (Later the police gave us their details and it seems to be a man, but their name and city is literally all I know.)

At this point I was starting to feel more together. I had been playing with my phone, trying to call my husband. But for a while I couldn't make my fingers find how to call him. And then I did it, but the call wouldn't go through. I was in a fairly isolated area with poor cell coverage, it's basically in the middle of a bunch of fields of corn and cotton and shit. So I was calling but not hearing anything on the line. And meanwhile people kept talking to me and the car was honking nonstop. Even after I got him to turn off the car, it was still making honking car alarm noises. Like yes car, I know you are in distress but please shut the fuck up.

I texted my husband instead. He was texting me by then because he could hear when I called him and he knew something was WRONG. So here are the texts. It's pretty funny.

Cat totaled. Of course I didn't have my glasses so I couldn't see anything very well. I had been wearing sunglasses with bifocal reading glasses in them but they were uh, removed by the airbag. No idea what happened to them. He called me thankfully and that call worked so I told him where I was and that I was okay except for my ankle, etc. Of course I'm like the car, the poor car our new car is totaled and he's like fuck the car are YOU okay, etc.

Also when I exited the car, the witnesses kept telling me I was bleeding on my lips. I touched them and could tell my bottom lip was split. So I was like, yeah it's okay just my lip. Presumably from the impact with the airbag. It's cut on the inside from my teeth and still very swollen and in my way.

So I pulled my backup sunglasses from my purse and put them on to block the sun and laid back in the grass to chill. What sucked was that this is Texas and the grass had ants and they were crawling on me, but what could I do. I looked behind me and there was only more grass with car shrapnel and the highway which didn't look more comfortable to sit on. I asked the officer to get my tote bag out of my car, the bag with my dnd stuff which had a water bottle and can of coke in it. He got it but the coke can was totally dented and I couldn't open it. So I drank the water very gratefully because I was super thirsty.

oh and about this time the cop gave me a long speech about "You should drink a lot of water tonight and try to do some moving around because you're going to be sore and being in a car accident releases a ton of lactic acid into your body like you did a very strenuous workout...etc. " I basically just nodded and was like yeah i'm gonna be really sore.

At this point I figured I just had a sprained ankle and I would go to the er and they would check me out and I'd get an ACE bandage and be fine basically. I realized that the injury was from me trying to brake, standing on the brake and when the impact happened all that force transferred directly into my almost straight leg.

So the ambulance arrived and they came and asked the same questions. They had a bunch of people come to help get me to the stretcher. Basically they grabbed my arms and shoulders and pulled me backwards, telling me to push myself with my good leg. So I did that with them holding me up until we got to the stretcher and I sat down and swung myself around and was strapped down and lifted into the ambulance. They asked me if I had a preference for hospitals to go to and I told them the name of the big hospital nearby which I know our insurance works with because one of my doctors is there.

Then they just started asking me a bunch of medical questions about medications and conditions which I basically had to simplify, leaving out some of the minor things I have going on. Like I didn't mention depression or the antidepressant I take. I only told him some of my meds for my back. Not sure why, it just seemed like I needed to get important things across only.

He asked about where I hurt and I at that point told him about my shoulder hurting in addition to my ankle. He also told me about how bad that intersection is for accidents and how he'd been out there about an hour before for another (more minor) one and we talked about whether they needed to install a light there.

He was really nice and I liked him. I sent a text to my dnd chat while riding that told them I wouldn't be at the game. In the ambulance they checked my vitals and also took my blood sugar which I thought was kinda weird. I guess it's just standard.

We got to the ER and as they wheeled me through I heard the people saying "trauma 2, trauma 2 in room whatever, the trauma is here." So I realized that was me and they were treating me like a Serious Patient and not just an ankle. As I was rolled into the room a veritable swarm of people came with me and pulled me from the stretcher to the bed, bringing a lot of grass and dirt with me, by the way, which no one but me seemed to notice (And the nurse later).

Then they were trying to get my clothes off and a young man approached me with surgical scissors and said "Okay we're just gonna cut this off you" and I was like "No, please, can you not, I just finished sewing this!" and thankfully they were like well let's try. I was already like, I can do this, and pulling up my dress and wiggling. They probably didn't want me moving myself that much, but fuckit, I spent months on that dress I didn't want it ruined. (It ended up torn about an inch down at the neckline and has a couple inch long tear in the skirt from either me crawling out of the car or them pulling me to the stretcher.)

Oh and I had to tell them "I'm wearing a back support corset under here so it will be weird" but they were like "that's no problem" and they just reached down and pried the busk apart, (with me sucking in to help them) and pulling it free. So that was one anxiety gone. So anyway, they finally got the dress and all my shirts off while they pulled my bra free also. It's definitely weird having a swarm of people you can't really see grab you and start tearing off your clothes. I wasn't feeling at all worried about being exposed or anything, my only concern was for my clothes. Finally I was naked except for my underwear and they put a gown over me.

And then hooked up a bunch of wires and stuff. The EMT had started an IV in my hand but not given me anything. They also didn't give me anything yet, though I THOUGHT they'd hooked me up to saline or something but turned out no.

Then I talked to the doctor and repeated all my pains. They were like okay we'll get xrays and check you out all over. So they did the xrays in the bed and I had a really hard time moving my foot/ankle the way they wanted because I was like "I can't move it" and they were like, but okay flex more and I'm like "I can't." And then turn it to the side and I'm like, uh, it's not moving. And finally I had to like turn my whole body to the side to get the position they wanted.

Then they took blood and mostly left and there was one nurse left. "Can I have some water?" I asked, my most pressing concern because I was DYING of thirst. She was like "uh we have to wait and ask the doctor." And then a little while later she was like "is there anything I can get you?" and I'm like "again, water?" and she's like okay lemme go check.

So I finally got water and I asked the lady taking my blood if she could hand me my phone from my purse. So I had my phone hurray although I still had no glasses and couldn't see. But my texts showed my husband was outside so I asked if he could come back and they said sure. It still took a little while but they finally came and asked me again if family could come back and I said yes and then there he was.

Obviously that was a huge relief because I could ask him for stuff from my purse like my glasses. And we mostly just talked and looked at stuff on our phones while waiting for results. So finally the doctor comes back and is like so okay actually you have a broken heel bone and we're going to put you in a splint for now and then you will follow up with an orthopedist. And he did that and that was pretty painful. By this point they'd given me something in my IV that was helping with the pain but still having them try to force my foot upright was super painful.

Then they said they needed a urine sample and the nurse was like do you want to try a bed pan or me to do a catheter. And I'm like I guess bed pan. Which, I didn't know, is basically just a hard plastic bowl that you sit on and the edges dig into your butt and thighs. And she tries to explain how to go and I'm like okay I'll try but I totally failed. Because I was still massively dehydrated. I'm like "if you'd given me more water like I asked, I might be doing better at this." Finally they started me on IV fluids and I got my husband to get me my water bottle. Then they did a catheter except they still couldn't get urine and they did it a second time with a better nurse and finally they made me laugh and that made some come out so they made me keep laughing until they got enough of a sample. So I'm definitely making the nurse stories for that one.

By the way, did the catheter hurt. Yeah, a little. It feels like what you'd expect. It's pokey and doesn't feel good, but once it's in you can't feel it. Also I was told my "anatomy" made it easy to see what they were doing which, I'm like is that a compliment on my pussy or what?

Anyway after that it was just waiting waiting waiting. They were checking for damage to my kidneys or I guess other indicators through blood tests because they came back to draw more blood twice.

Finally like five hours after the wreck they let me go. And gave me very little information about anything, actually I could complain a lot about the way the ER handled things but like that's not the point here.

We were both obviously starving because we hadn't eaten so we had to drive through the only thing open which was a 24 hour mcdonalds.

They didn't give us crutches, just told me to use them, so we had some from when my husband was in a car wreck and wheelchair bound for months. So he had to go in the house and find those and bring them out to me. Our door is very far from the driveway so I had a long way to go on crutches and it was very difficult given my pain situation and how my shoulder and ribs on the right side hurt. So once I finally got to the door he got a rolling chair that I sat on and he wheeled me to the bedroom.

That night once the meds they gave me in the ER wore out I was in terrible terrible pain. I'm a chronic pain patient on an opioid patch and it was insane. Ten on the pain scale. I wont go into too much detail but god I wanted to die or like, just cut my foot off. I took pretty much anything I could to try to help the pain, after some quick interactions googling. And took an edible we had and that was what finally let me get any sleep about 5 in the morning once it kicked in.

It's now two weeks later and...what is recovery from a crash like that like? Well it sucks honestly. I got very lucky in my injuries but the broken heel is way more painful that I would have imagined, sometimes radiating pain all the way up my leg to the crotch. And worse than that has been the rest of my body that didn't get diagnosed with any injuries but obviously went through major trauma.

My ribs have been very sore in a couple different places, making it difficult to move, sit up, lay on one side, reach for things, laugh or cough. And I pulled something in my right shoulder though they didn't see any damage on x-rays but it's taken two weeks to start to feel like I can use my right arm much or move it without terrible pain.

I've spent most of my time on pretty heavy meds, thanks to my pain doctor, but still all the time I've been massively uncomfortable. And trying to do anything is really difficult because I have to use weird muscles to pull myself up to standing or whatever without putting weight on my right foot, and then those muscles have gotten sore. It was about two days after the accident I reached peak Body Pain, after trying to get around on crutches with an injured/bruised ribs and messed up shoulder. I got to the point I couldn't get myself up to go to the bathroom on my own at all. Thankfully then I got a kneeling scooter thing which is an absolute requirement for getting around in this state.

So yeah today is two weeks and I feel like I'm just starting to get back to almost normal functioning, except for my broken foot. Taking meds less often, and then only because the foot starts throbbing. (Did you know heels are very painful things to break? Neither did I? I'm lucky I don't need surgery because frequently this injury can cripple you if you don't have surgery.)

Anyway, I don't know if anyone will have read all this, but I feel like it's worth documenting the experience. I was originally going to post this within the first few days of the accident but then the real bad effects started kicking in and then uh, there was the Lahaina thing. (My closest family lives there. They are safe along with their house but...my little tragedy didn't feel important in the face of that.)

At any rate, please drive safely, this experience sucks and I don't recommend it.

[seriously-mike]

I forgot to tell you, but judging from the beta, Call of Duty: Black Ops 6 multiplayer is good. It's fast and loose, as per Treyarch's usual, and it trims a lot of the MW2 overengineered fat.

The perk system is rebuilt, with perks divided into three categories: Assault, Recon and Objective. Put three perks from the same category in your loadout, you get a bonus one, like increased health regeneration after melee kills, High Alert or bonus points for playing the objectives - which is more important as scorestreaks are now the default, so if you want to get them faster, you need to play a bit smarter, even if "smarter" means throwing flashbangs or stun grenades or just holding the objective.

Surprisingly, unlike previous Treyarch CODs, shotguns are main weapons now, and secondary slot is meant for pistols and launchers only. However, melee weapons have their own slot now and you can pull a knife out by holding the melee button.

Bolt-ons for guns aren't shared, with the exception of sights and only for a given weapon category. Which makes some sense as there are some sights that are unlocked specifically by leveling the category oddballs, like a scope for SMGs tied to the slow and hard-hitting Tanto .22 SMG (apparently a riff on both the Kel-Tec CMR30 carbine and the MAG-7 shotgun, and I initially mistook it for the latter). Apart from that, the foregrips aren't interchangeable, for example, which kinda makes sense due to a general lack of RIS sticklebrick. That and, there was a shitton of same-ish bits to unlock in MW2, out of which you used the one that looked good because the differences between each were minimal (and I used the same AFG I have bolted on my airsoft replica anyway).

The maps are slightly surprising, as I don't recall interactive doors in Cold War, and they're implemented here. There's also a cool thing on one of the maps, Skyline - the conference room in the center can be partially locked down, blocking a vantage point in the form of a large window above a playable lobby area and one of three available doors, and the controls for that are in two places - the conference room itself and a ventilation shaft leading to a panic room with an entrance hidden behind a bookshelf near one of the map's edges.

There's a new Tactical Upgrade with a massive potential for fuckery, called Sleeper Agent. It allows you to masquerade as a random member of the enemy team, although any form of attack makes you instantly recognized by your target, and the Vigilance perk counters it outright. But if you pair it with the proper combo of Recon perks, you can wreak absolute havoc on the enemy team (particularly if you remembered to pack Treyarch's favorite Throwing Axe). I once rolled over four guys from the enemy team, laughing like a maniac, and they never knew what hit them.

Hard to tell how the scorestreaks will look like, because the beta contained only Radar Pulse, UAV/Counter-UAV, Cruise Missile, AI-controlled overwatch chopper, AA jets and Chopper Gunner, and I was way too rusty to scrounge enough points for anything more than the UAV (it costs 600 points and a bit, meaning you need to get six simple kills - two more than the usual). The trailers feature Mr Wheelson, typical for IW but not really encountered in Treyarch's CODs, and not the typically Treyarch things like the multi-grenade launcher, so I'm expecting a bit of a shake-up on that front. But still, it's good to pack a launcher because that overwatch chopper is an absolute pain in the ass and it's hard to take down by other means. I really can't recall using a launcher in MW2, and getting obliterated by the chopper in BO6 was something I have long forgotten.

As for the operators, there are the good, the bad and the weird. We have Adler, Park and, surprisingly, Harry Stone coming back, and that's good, the bad is Bayan and everything about him. He's named after a Russian accordion, speaks with a Russian accent, looks like a gopnik twin of Stitch and is... Polish. Like all attempts at making a decent Polish character were exhausted with Gromski, and he wasn't that much to begin with. The weird? For some reason, Crimson One get Brutus, the zombie warden from Black Ops II's Mob of the Dead map, and Klaus the zombie robot from Cold War's Mauer der Toten. Okay, we're not treating anything seriously here, particularly since the Vault Edition that grants access to both also gives Adler and Park cyborg ninja commando skins, but still.

[notgonnarememberthis]

Pillars

Surprise!!! I didn't have intention of publishing a oneshot but this popped into my mind a couple of hours ago and it was just too good to ignore. I don't write Ainsley much so it was a lovely change to have her voice in my mind for a change and it was really fun to explore a more vulnerable aspect of her. Especially since her weakness appears to be her family being in danger. It was really fun to write and I hope y'all enjoy this as much as I did

Ainsley wakes up to the sound of a scream. It’s so loud it pierces through the walls. She startles, feeling her heart pounding in her ears. It takes her a few seconds to realize it wasn’t from her dream. The scream is very much real. She’s never heard anything like it, so full of pain and terror. Then she realizes it sounds very familiar.

“Mom.”

The rate at which she’s on her feet and running is dizzying. She almost rips her phone from the wall it’s plugged into with her urgency to move. Her bare feet echo on the floors as she races down the hall. She curses her urgency for privacy from when she moved in almost a year ago, insisting that she’ll need her own space since she’s been used to living alone for so long.

Her mother’s scream still echoing in her head makes her hate every step that she was too far from helping.

Her fingers shake too much as she tries to work her phone. Dialing the number almost absentmindedly from memory as tears stream down her face, panicked breaths too short to fill her lungs. 

She should call 911, there could be an intruder or a fire or. She should call 911.

“Malcolm Bright, leave your name and number and I’ll call you back.”

His voicemail taunts her as she tries to school her panic. She can’t call anyone but him. She needs Malcolm. He’d know what to do. He’d know how to save her. He’d get there faster than any cop would.

Except maybe Gil.

Finally she’s in front of her mother’s door. She doesn’t even bother knocking, instead reaching for and twisting the golden handle. Yet, it doesn’t budge in her grip. She tries again, then once more before the horror truly sets in. Her door is locked and Ainsley can’t hear anything coming from the inside.

Not that she can hear much over her own heartbeat.

“Mom!” She pounds on the door, tears flowing freely imagining everything horrific her mind has to offer. Her mother choking on blood, stabbed in the stomach collapsing just out of reach of the door, a gun trained on her temple if she tries to scream. Ainsley throws her weight against the door but it’s no use, the wood is expensive and she just bounces painfully off it. She ignores the flare of pain resorting to pounding again with her good arm when the door swings open.

She freezes when a very tired and very concerned looking Gil answers. She thought he’d come fast but this is ridiculous.

Her rational mind comes to as her panic ebbs momentarily. Gil had dinner with them last night, she retired for the night before he left. He had a few drinks, there was no way her mother would let him drive and insist that he stay.

“Ainsley? Is everything ok?” She glances over his shoulder not seeing her mother anywhere behind him. She must have slipped into the closet, probably sitting at the vanity. 

“I heard-” She thinks for a moment. Was it all a dream? She could have sworn… It sounded so real. “I heard a scream.”

His shoulders drop, a soft look of understanding passes over the man’s features. “A nightmare.” He assures her.

“No. I know what I heard. I heard-”

“No, Ainsley.” He stops her with a had up. “Your mother had a nightmare.”

She tenses, confusion knotting her brows. She’s no stranger to someone waking up screaming in the night. Hell, she grew up familiar with the sound of Malcolm’s night terrors. A scream, the sound of running, a struggle, and then her mother’s gentle voice coaxing him awake again. 

It was always Malcolm though. Never her.

“I don’t understand.”

“She just had a nightmare. I’ve got her, kid. Don’t worry.”

She almost scoffs at his words. Don’t worry? Not even when she was faced against a literal serial killer did she hear her mother make more than a yell. A challenge against her opponent. She always fought back. Always. How the hell would she be able to stop hearing that scream? She sounded so… helpless.

She’s never known her mother to be helpless.

“I can’t.”

“Ains.” She stops, only Malcolm calls her that but it’s enough to disrupt her thoughts. “She’s safe.”

Her face sinks with realization. “The pills.” Gil’s expression only confirms it. The sad almost guilt that passes over him, and she knows. Her mother had talked to her and Malcolm about it before. How she planned to get clean. No more relying on pills and booze to survive. She didn’t want to miss another moment. Those were her words.

Ainsley has had only a small peek at the bottles before when her mother was sulking over Malcolm’s treatment of her. Ones she expected, having seen from Malcolm were there. Valium, Ativan, Marplan. Yet the one bottle screams in her memory now.

The sleeping pills.

“She never…” Guilt clenches in her chest. “I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t.” He assures her gently with a sad smile. “She would never have let you or Malcolm know.”

“Is she…”

“At the vanity.” He nods, understanding her question. Sitting at the vanity is almost never good. After moving in Ainsley often found her there, so locked in her own thoughts she didn’t hear or see her come in. She understands why, in a way. It gives her space to think, where the walls never feel too much like him. The closet was always her space. Ainsley remembers it almost looking the exact same as when she’d run in to play makeup with her.

She wonders if the familiarity is a comfort or a punishment.

“You want to see her?” Ainsley chews on her lip, thinking. Would her mother want her to see her like this? Probably not. Yet she had to have heard them talking. She doesn’t hear her protesting either. She would not be shy to request her time alone. She nods. “Come on.” Gil guides her into the room, softly knocking on the door before opening it just a little. “Jess, sweetheart. Someone wants to see you.”

No protest again. Ainsley shuffles forwards, suddenly feeling very much like the shy five year old who came to check on her older brother after he had a nightmare. She always had her favorite stuffed rabbit ready to share to keep away the bad dreams. She wishes she had the bunny right now. To wordlessly pass to her mother without needing the explanation. Without having to say what they both already know.

Her mother turns to her, eyes dark from lack of sleep. Ainsley wonders how long it took her to work up the courage to close her eyes. How long it took for them to fly back open in terror. They’re red rimmed too, from tears, she recognizes. She’s never seen her mother cry. The thought terrifies her.

Yet when her mother sees her, the expression changes. A soft look of guilt and understanding. “Oh baby,” She reaches out a hand and Ainsley goes to her. More tears she didn’t know she had left spilling down her cheeks. She rises from her seat meeting Ainsley in the embrace. She wraps her arms as tight as she can around her mother, her face burying into her shoulder. All the fear and sadness she felt melts out of her at once. The slow stream of tears turning into full body sobbing in the comforting touch. Fingers comb at her tangled blonde curls, separating the knots from her own restless sleep. “I’m so sorry I scared you sweetheart.” She whispers in her ear.

She shakes her head trying to reject the apology. Yet the crashing realization that her mother isn’t this pillar of strength and bravery weighs heavily on her. She wonders if Malcolm even knows. 

Oh god, she’s going to have to explain her crying voicemail to Malcolm.

“Are you ok?” She finally asks when she has the strength to talk.

“Oh my sweet girl.” She breathes, pulling away just to trace her jaw. “I’ve got you right here, I’m more than ok.” She places a kiss on her hairline enveloping her in a hug again. “It was just a nightmare. I’m ok.” Ainsley bites her tongue at the thought of what her nightmares could possibly look like. Malcolm’s were terrifying to hear about and he has suppressed memories.

Her mother knows every face, every name. Every single image.

Gil’s knock interrupted her second wave of panic. “I talked to Malcolm. Figured he might see Ainsley called and panicked when he woke up.” She feels her mother nod in understanding.

“He’s not coming, is he?”

“No. I managed to convince him everything was ok.”

“Good.” She pulls away from the hug, though her fingers still linger on his arms. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Ainsley looks between her and Gil. A selfish part of her wants to nod, curl up next to her mother and keep her safe from the nightmares just like she did for her after the memories of Endicott started resurfacing. 

“It’s ok kid. I’ll sleep in a guest room tonight.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffs. “The bed could easily fit all three of us plus Malcolm. That is, if you’re ok with it.” Ainsley realizes she’s talking to her and nods. Gil had always felt like a father to her, even when his focus was on Malcolm. He always asked if she’d like to tag along to a baseball game or a trip to the planetarium. Anything to make them feel like normal kids.

She still has the stuffed astronaut he bought her.

“Is that ok with you?” Ainsley asks Gil and he smiles, wide and warm. Nothing like Martin’s.

“I’d like that.”

They fit comfortably back in the bed. With Ainsley hugging her mother close to her. She’s more than used to the octopus grip and settles in, manicured fingers scratching her back in smooth lulling patterns. Gil takes place behind her mother, safely cushioning her between the two of them. This way she’s protected from both sides. Ainsley smiles at the image but it does calm her when she sees him offer his arm to lay on to her mother.

They both fall asleep before she does. Neither stir while she listens to the soft noises of the quiet slumber. She hopes, against everything that has happened, that they get to keep this soft moment. After everything that’s happened her mother deserves to be happy. She thinks with him, she could be.

Maybe they all could be.

[russiandoll-from-brooklyn]

Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

final part (I like number 7, let's end it at number 7)

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: angst, typos (not when drunk gods are talking, those are intentional), drunk god bros™, hangover

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @belovedadam @mascaracoffee @serebrum @myworldgoesboomz @lokis-leah @nickkie1129 @getyoutmoon @forevernthensome

A/N: thank you so much for reading this unexpected mini series❤️

Loki swayed from one side to another. His question still hanging in the air. Thor was struggling to get back up on his feet. When it looked like he's making progress, he fell down on his knees again and had to start over.

"Has any of you ever seen them like that?" Steve whispered.

Everyone shook their heads. Your eyes remained glued to Loki. He never drank. Well, if he had to he drank fine wine or some other 'fancy' alcohol from Tony's stash, but he never drank to the point of being drunk. Only slightly tipsy.

You remember the first time you saw him drink. It was a long time ago. Tony made him. He said it will make him 'turn that frown upside down'. You saw him drain the whole bottle that day and it did nothing to him. Only tainted his pale cheeks with slight pink. You've seen him drink more than a bottle since then, but it was never enough to make him stumble through his words, or sway around like Jack Sparrow. How much did he had?

Anxiety gnawed on you again. 'He drank because of you. Because of what you told him. Your words pushed a literal god to drink his sadness away.'

"Weeeell?" Loki asked again. When Thor fell down with a thud on the floor again Loki rolled his eyes and was at least pretending to help him stand up. You swear you heard him whisper something along the lines of 'get up you outgrown lightning mouse, don't embarass me in front of her', but that could've been just your imagination.

"For god's sake, how much did you guys have?" Sam asked and Bucky stole Rex from his lap while he was distracted.

Thor while leaning on the back of the couch was counting his fingers. After a while he gave up. "A lot. We made our anescesterors proud," he bared his teeth in a proud grin.

"You mean ancestors, right?"

Thor's head turned to Nat. "Yes! We had a whoooole barrel. One for me," he hugged his brooding brother around shoulders (more like leaned on him with his entire weight) "and one for Kiki," the childish nickname earned Thor a massive shove to the side. "Do not call me dat!"

Bruce facepalmed. "Guys, what are we gonna do with them?"

Clint pulled out his phone, recording everything. "Enjoy while it lasts."

You smacked his phone away, a sudden need to protect your (hopefully still) friend's dignity roused inside of you. "You can't!" you said louder than you wanted.

Clint just shook his head. "You're no fun Y/N," and put his phone away.

You frowned at them. "I know. I know I'm no fun, and I am annoying sometimes, and weak and dumb compared to all of you. I know all of that! I don't care!"

Bucky stared up at you. "What has gotten into you doll?"

"I'll tell you what. I was a bitch, okay? I was overthinking everything ever since I had that argument with Loki. His words started something inside of my head. I started to think they were true, that when my best friend thought those things what must all of you think. And even when I knew they were lies those thoughts stayed up here," you pointed at your head, "and I hate myself for still keeping them there. And just when I thought I'll finally make up with Loki and everything will be good again I fuck up!" you wiped an escaped tear, took a breath and continued.

"It's my fault he's like this. He was drinking because of what I said. All of this is because of me," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself a little. Everyone stared at you, including the drunk brothers.

What you were letting out of your mouth probably didn't make sense as a whole. They were just your anxious thoughts getting free, they didn't care in which order. All of that stress, everything that has been rotting inside of your chest is out now. You feel a little better.

"Daaaarlin', 's not your fault," Loki interrupted your train of thoughts, reminding you that just because you talked your heart out, it didn't fix your mistake of hurting him.

"Yeah, and whose then?" you said calmly.

Loki stood up straighter while still swaying a little. "The univers! She won't let us be toge'er, thas why I haf to make up with 'er," his british accent got deeper.

You slowly walked towards him. "No Loki, this is my fault. And I'll fix it too," you took him by his arm and slowly lead him away. To his bedroom. However, he protested.

"Wait! We have to give 'er flowerz," he leaned down to Thor and yanked some of the flowers along with his golden hair from Thor's head. "Y'kno, to makup."

You shook your head and walked with him a little faster. "You don't have to. All you have to do is go to sleep now."

When the Avengers finally came to their senses Bruce shouted after you. "Hey what about Thor?"

"He's all yours," you shouted back from the elevators and pressed button leading to Loki's floor.

*

'He's heavier than he looks,' you think as you get closer to his bedroom door.

He's been leaning on you for support the whole silent (mildly uncomfortably silent) way to his bedroom. He groaned and mumbled something undecipherable here and there. You wished to be already in his room, put him in his bed and dissappear for few hours. You felt so awkward helping your friend who can barely stand after he drank because of you.

"Can you lean on the wall please?" you asked him when you both stood infront of his locked door. He unhooked his arm from around your shoulders and practically threw himself onto the nearest wall.

"Lean, not fall!"

He chuckled. "Sorrey, is the gravity," he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes and fished out a key from his bedroom door from your sweatpant pocket. When the thin metal slid into keayhole Loki threw his arms around you and gently squeezed you. "Are ya real?"

"Eeeh, yes? Why are you asking?"

"Because," he squished your cheeks together, "you're nice to me. And you're cute," he giggled.

You chuckled and removed his hands from your cheeks. "Thanks, but this isn't you. You need to sleep."

"Not me?" he asked, confusion all over his face. He ran his hand across his torso and settled on his face. "But this is my body and my face! It has to be me!"

"Yes, it is, but the acting isn't. Now come," you took his hand and gently lead him through his open door.

You pushed him to sit on his bed and wanted to walk out, but he won't let go of your hands. He studied them like a little child, turning them, looking at them from every angle. You blushed. He hasn't been this tender for a long time.

You cleared your throat. "You need to sleep. You're gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow."

His eyes left your hands resting in his and bore into yours. But they weren't as clear as usual, they were clouded and lost. "Why?"

"Eeeh, because you're drunk?"

"Why?"

"Because you drank?"

"Why?"

"Because-" no, you can't tell him. "It doesn't matter. Just sleep now," you tried to push him to his bed, but even in this state he was strong and unmovable.

"I don't wanna sleep. I need to find Univers!"

"Well, you can find your universe after you sober up."

"Noooo," he shook his head dramatically, his hair whiping around him. "I can't find my universe. YOU are MY universe," he held your hands close to his chest.

"But I need to find THE Universe! With the T'n'H'n'E infront of it," he started to ramble about Universe conspiring against him and you, but you didn't listen.

You stopped listening after he said 'you are my universe'. Did he mean it?

" 'Your' universe?" you asked and finally pushed him to lie down on his bed.

"Yea," he yawned, his eyelids became too heavy for him to keep open. "I know you hate me, but I.... I...," and he was gone. Off to the dreamland.

You stayed there for few more minutes in case he woke up and finished what he wanted to say, but no such thing happened. You could play on drumms next to him and he wouldn't move.

You softly brushed his hair from his face and covered him with his soft black blanket. "I don't hate you Loki. I never did. I just hope you'll be just as nice and calm when you sober up as you were right now," you caressed his cheek for the last time and walked to his door.

Before you closed, you looked back at him and softly whispered. "You are my universe too Loki."

*

Loki's head pulsed with pain. That's what woke him up, actually. Blindly, he felt around him with his hands, trying to find out where he was. Warm blanket, soft bed, his Asgardian armour still on. It was dirty from clay and smelled weird. Almost like.... alcohol?

'Oh,' he thought, 'that happened.'

He groaned and opened his eyes, only to instantly cover them with his palm. Light from the nearby window was stabbing his eyeballs causing him even bigger headache. All he wanted to do was get a big- no, giant cup of cold water and down it just as fast as he was doing with the alcohol yesterday.

But whenever he tried to use his magic only green and gold sparkles flew from his fingers and when he tried to stand up he got dizy and the whole room started to spin. He fell down onto his bed again. He felt as if his brother hit him with Mjolnir, his famous hammer.

If he wanted a cup of water, he will have to suffer through those few steps to his bathroom.

He reluctantly and slowly stood up and walking very close to wall he made his way for a drink. Or three, just in case.

After a long and unpleasant journey he fell onto his bed again, but not before he pulled blinds over the horribly bright window and rid himself of any dirty and uncomfortable clothes, leaving him only in his underwear.

With his head underneath his blanket, to block out any more light, he tried to remember as much of his actions from yesterday as he could.

From your room he went to gym to punch his frustration out. That's where Thor found him, interrogated him and then dragged him to Asgard to have a drink. Or a whole pub apparently. The rest is a blur. Something about garden, flowers and him and his brother crashing down to Midgard to look for someone. Who? He doesn't remember. Maybe you, since he remembered something about flowers. Maybe his drunk self thought it would be best to make up with you.

But that didn't make any sense, he had nothing to apologize for anymore. You were the one who told him those word. Where even were you anyways?

Just as he finished that thought he heard his doorknob move and his door creaked open.he slowly peaked out from underneath the blanket and in the dimness saw a familiar silhouette. You.

Carefully you put one foot infront of the other and walked straight towards him. You must think he's still asleep, that's why you're so careful. Oh, how he longed to pretend to be asleep and then jump at you and scare you. But he can't. He can't let his mischievious nature do that yet. Not when things between you two aren't like they used to be.

Instead he kept his eyes open and when you got close enough, he slightly moved. "Well look who showed up," he said.

You flinched a little. "Thank god you're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Horrible, to be honest," he rubbed his temples. "Why did you say 'finally awake'?"

You completely ignored his question. "Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers?"

"How about you give me an answer?"

You sighed. "You were out for two days Loki. I was starting to think you had alcohol poisoning and died in your sleep. I was checking up on you every few hours to make sure you're still with us," you confessed.

"Oh, alright. Thank you. And I don't need anything. I already obtained it," he pointed at his bedside table with three glasses of water.

"Still, your head must be torturing you. I'll bring you some painkillers," you ran outside before he could stop you.

You returned after few minutes with a small box of pills on one hand and a jar of water in the other. "So you don't have to stand up and go to the bathroom after you drink those three cups," you said and put the jar on his bedside table.

"Thank you. You are oddly kind to me," Loki pointed out.

You hummed and awkwardly stood infront of his bed, trying not to look at his naked torso. You fidgeted with the box for a while. "Just take one when you want," you said finally and put it next to the jar.

"Hey, can you tell me what happened yester- I mean two days ago? Was I and Thor a big disaster?" he asked, wanting you to stay with him.

"Well," you chuckled and scratched the back of your head. "It was a bit awkward and confusing. You and Thor appeared on the balcony and you were looking for universe for some reason."

Loki facepalmed. The pain from embarrassment was bigger than the pain his head was causing. "And let me guess, The Earth's Mightiest Heroes recorded everything, didn't they?"

You shook your head. "No, I didn't let them."

"Thank you," he smiled kindly.

You returned the smile. "Hey, can I sit here?" you pointed at the corner of his bed.

"Sure," he moved a little to give you more space. The bed dipped under your weight a little.

"I want to tell you few things," you said, your eyes watched how you fidgeted with your fingers.

"I'm listening."

"First I want to apologize for what I said. I was tetchy and I know it doesn't excuse what I said," you raised your eyes to his. "I just want you to know I didn't mean them. And I'm sorry. I would like to be your friend again. Please."

Loki bit his tongue from teasingly telling you 'no' and took a deep breath. "I would like to be your friend as well. I don't want us to argue anymore. So," he extended his arm towards you, "friends?"

You beamed at him. To him your smile shone brighter than the sun outside. You took his hand and shook it. "Friends."

"I'm glad," he squeezed your hand gently. He didn't want to let go yet. "And what about the rest of what you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, right," you looked to the side. "You said something yesterday."

"Something offensive? If so, I apologize-"

"No! Not at all! It just..." you bit your lower lip and tilted your head, something you subconsciously did when you blushed. "Y-you said that... I am your universe," you said carefully.

Loki froze. Did he really say that? You didn't look like you were lying. Why did he tell you that? Why were you bringing that up? Did you possibly feel the same and want to be sure he wasn't kidding when he said it?

Loki must've took too long to respond, because you were trying to pull your hand from his and leave. This time Loki was fast to stop you. "I really said that?"

You gulped. "Yes, ehm did you mean it? Wait, you don't remember. Sorry," you chuckled awkwardly.

"If I said that while drunk, I meant it."

"Really?"

"Yes. I once heard 'alcohol reveals, who a person truly is', in that case I am a romantic," he winked and you giggled. He liked the fact you still giggle at his stupid jokes.

"For real now. You are my universe. My best friend. My partner in crime. And if you allow then I would like to add another title: my paramour. If you feel the same way, that is."

You smiled softly and intertwined your fingers with his. "You are my universe as well, Loki."

"Great," he lifted your joined hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. "When I sober up and feel better I'm officially asking you out on a date."

"How long does it usually take for you to sober up?"

"A day or two," Loki shrugged and fell back onto his bed. His head started spinning again.

"That's too long," you said and layed next to him. "Can I watch over you while you sleep?"

"Sure thing love," he hugged you to him and kissed the crown of your head.

Bonus

"Darling, it's 2pm."

"Yes, so?"

"Aren't you supposed to take Rex out?"

"Bucky is training him."

"Oh, okay."

"You're so sweet to think of him."

"Hmmm."

*meanwhile*

Steve: hey, aren't you supposed to train him?

Bucky: *lying on the floor, Rex napping on his chest*

Bucky: uuuh, I gave him a break.

Steve: *raises one eyebrow*

Bucky: please don't tell her

Steve: only if I can join in

A/N: I was this close to write the angstiest ending, but I have a good mood today

[toomanyfandoms02]

Kisses // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This is a request for both @boiled-onionrings and @aberrant-annie ! I ADORED writing this!!!

Summary - Reader is an artist with serious art block. So she decides to kiss her best friend all over and turn it into art.

Word Count - 2.2k

This is based off of THIS gif from @nationgubler

I loved being an artist, but with any career in the arts, there is a time where you have some kind of block.

And I was having artist block, right now.

I sat in my studio, my back laying against the floor of the cold tile. As if the ceiling was going to spark some kind of Vincent Van Gogh idea in my head. I lightly brought my hand to my face, slapping my forehead.

"Come on y/n! There's something in there, anything, anything!" My head lolled to the side in frustration, eyes closed. I let out a loud groan of frustration, very grateful in this moment for choosing the most soundproof room of my apartment to do art. This was out of courtesy of my very kind neighbors. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that something would come soon so I wasn't so damn angry. That's when I saw it.

The book Matthew had gotten me for my birthday a few months ago, sitting right next to my painting of lips, one of my best selling prints.

"Hmmm." I sat up slowly, contemplating if I should even ask this favor of him, but Matthew really cared about my career. Maybe I was in luck, so I dialed his phone number. He answered within 2 rings.

"Hey y/n, what's up?" He sounded out of breath, making his voice slightly raspy. This caused my heart to beat a bit faster.

"Uh, I have a favor to ask you, are you okay? You sound out of breath." I could hear him huff another deep breath.

"Yeah! I'm on a run in the park right now."

"Oh! Well don't worry about it then, I can save this-"

"No no! What do you need, I'm on my way home." This was honestly the most nerve-wracking thing ever, asking my best friend And someone I'm slowly falling for to do a kind of scandalous pose for a painting for me.

"It's kind of, weird. It involves art. I can't come up with any ideas and this one came into my head, you can totally say no, I won't-"

"Honey, good lord, I'm not gonna judge you, just tell me." He laughed in the end, easing my stress only slightly at the sound of it.

"Alright, it would be a portrait of you from waist up, but, also, I would, ugh. I feel weird about it!" I paused momentarily, sighing into the phone and making a pouty face that he *thankfully* couldn't see. "Then I would put kisses all over you, to like, I don't know."

"Spice it up?"

"Yes."

"I'll be over soon, I'm gonna take a shower. See you soon sunshine!" And that was it. Nearly no hesitation and he agreed to it.

*Why did I worry so much?*

Probably because you like him so much, *dumbass*.

I tidied up my studio as a distraction, waiting for a knock at my door. My wooden easel clicked on the floor as I set it near the big window in the room. I set a stool in front of it for Matthew, facing him towards it for good natural lighting. I plopped a 24x16 canvas onto the easel. My heart nearly jumped from my chest as I heard the knock at my door. I almost slipped running to it.

I opened the door to see a smiling Matthew. He was leaning against my door frame dressed in a white button-down and some regular jeans.

"I don't see you wearing any lipstick, how are you gonna manage putting kisses all over me without it?" He teased with a smirk.

This man really knew how to make my heart stop, it was almost insane how much of an effect he had on me. But I was surprisingly good at hiding it.

"I haven't put it on yet you nerd." I hit his chest lightly, moving out of the doorway so he could come in. "You can still back out if you feel weird about this. And also, this is gonna take a while." I looked up at him nervously. He grabbed my shoulders, looking right into my eyes.

"I love helping you with art, stop thinking you're such a burden." He shook me a little, bringing another smile to my face.

"Fine, go sit on the stool back there and unbutton your shirt a few buttons," I ordered him as if I had any confidence when it came to him. I walked to the bathroom adjacent to my studio, grabbing my red lipstick and applying it in the mirror.

"I love the color!" Matthew shouted from the doorway of the bathroom, almost causing me to drag the makeup across my face. I pulled it away from my lips slowly, looking over at the idiot who was constantly scaring me. I gave him the death stare. He quickly brought his hands into a surrender position and backed from the room and into the studio. But not without giving me a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

"Sit!" I shooed him onto the stool I set up for him.

"Yes ma'am!" He saluted, sitting gracefully onto the wobbly seat.

"You promise this won't be too weird?" I asked a final time, a very *very* small part of me hoping that he would think it was too weird so I didn't have to torture myself even more with this horrible crush of mine. He just stared at me with one eyebrow raised, as to silently say.

*Do I really have to assure you again that I don't care?*

"Alright! Let go then." Another wave of anxiety shot through me as I leaned down to his level. My hands parted his hair to where I wanted it. I then kissed my thumb to make sure the lipstick was still wet enough to transfer, and sure enough, the red pigment was smudged onto the finger. Here we go.

I grabbed his face with both hands and brought my lips to his left cheek, leaving a kiss slightly above his cheekbone. I then left another kiss lower on the same cheek. On his right cheek, I put one right in the middle and one more near his chin.

I backed away from his face, pulling the lipstick from my pocket to reapply it. I watched his eyes as I put it on, seeing something I'd never seen in his eyes before.

"You okay Gubler?" I giggled a little, recapping the tube, I smacked my lips, ensuring that I got it everywhere. He blinked several times before shaking his head a little bit.

"Yeah! Uh, yes. Just zoned out." He nodded curtly, now venturing his eyes out the window.

"Okay weirdo." I chuckled. "I'm gonna kiss your chest now." I chuckled again, much more nervous than the previous one. He simply nodded and looked down at me with a small grin.

I got on my knees and opened his shirt a bit. Hopefully, he couldn't feel how much my hands were shaking, because let me tell you, I was *trembling*. I placed my hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss on the side of his neck first. I watched as Matthew sucked his lips into his mouth slowly tilting his head back. His hand was brought to his face and he left it there for a moment. I raised an eyebrow at him but quickly shrugged it off, I wasn't going to let this lipstick dry again.

I leaned down further, kissing his collar bone and then a final one near the center of his chest. At this point, Matthew was looking down at me again. He let off a loud breath and ran his tongue over his lips.

I stood up dusting my legs off, Matthew's eyes following me.

"Are you seriously okay? You're acting kind of funny." I came close to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He looked like a puppy dog looking up at me from the stool.

"I've got a small headache I think." It was a quick answer that seemed like a lie.

"We can stop-"

"No!" I jumped back from him, startled. "No, it's seriously fine. I'm just gonna get ibuprofen from your cabinets." He stood so quickly and turned toward the door.

"I can get that for you!"

"No it's fine I got it." His voice was farther now, almost completely in the bathroom. Even from this far his voice sounded strangled.

*Was this weirding him out? It really seems like it was.*

I gathered my colors from my oil paint box and brought them to the small table next to my easel.

Just a few minutes later Matthew emerged from the bathroom, looking like he felt better.

"Looks like the ibuprofen is working fast." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He snickered, sitting on his stool with a suspiciously large smile. I just shook my head a walked up to pose him. I turned his shoulders slightly toward the window, opening the shirt to see the kisses. I frazzled his hair a little to give it a bedhead look and once I was happy with everything, I went back to my seat.

"Just look wherever is comfortable. I'm giving you free will on that." Of course, he chooses to look directly at me.

"You sure you wanna look at me during this whole process?" I joked, starting with some skin-colored paint on the canvas.

"Well yeah, you're the most interesting thing in the room." I could feel the tips of my ears burn at the comment, not bothering to hide the smile that formed on the face.

"Well, thank you." I kept my eyes on the canvas, partly because I was painting, and partly because I thought that if I looked in his eyes I might melt into a puddle.

-

I was finally done with the base of everything. I pretty much had an outline with the correct colors.

"Okay, I'm taking a break. Do you want to snack with me?" I stretched my legs as I stood from my chair, my arms flailing high in the air.

"Yeah, what are you getting?" His hands rubbed together like a mischievous fly.

"I made chocolate chip cookies last night. I'm gonna heat them up so they are melty." I excitedly padded my bare feet to the kitchen. I slipped 3 cookies onto a plate and placed them in the microwave for 20 seconds. My back leaned on the counter as Matthew peered over me at my cookies.

"Someones excited about cookies." I laughed, grabbing them for the microwave and setting them on the counter, eating half of it in one bite.

"And you say *I'm* excited." He replied with a mouthful, clearly poking at the way I ate the cookie.

"You just ate yours in one bite!" I shot back.

"Whatever." He grabbed another, eating that one whole as well, as melted chocolate, slipped down his chin. He raised his hand to wipe it off and I was not quick enough to stop him.

"I'll just touch it up when we go back." He looked at his hand that was a mixture of brown and red and made a pouty face at me. "It's fine, here." I handed him a rag to wipe his hands and we went back into the studio.

On the walk back I was already reapplying my lipstick so I could fix the smudge on his face. I slipped into the bathroom quickly, grabbing my makeup wipes to fix the smudge as well. He sat in the stool once again.

Much less nervous this time, I grabbed his face the same way I did before and kissed over the same spot, making it darker and more defined again. As I was about to pull away from his face, Matthew's hands grabbed my wrists, stopping me from leaning away.

"What are you doing?" My heart hammered against my ribs, and at this moment I was hoping he couldn't hear it.

"Do you think there's anything else that needs to be fixed up?" His voice came out in a whisper, I could feel it against my face. "Do you think my *lips* should be red too?"

*Was he saying what I think he was saying?*

Apparently he was, because we both leaned in with closed eyes, connecting our lips. He pulled me into his lap on the stool, grabbing the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. I was sure that I was getting lipstick on much more than his lips at this point.

After quite the makeout sesh, we pulled away, both panting.

"What was that for?" My brain was in a complete haze. I realized I was still on his lap and began standing up, only to be pulled back down by his hands.

"I decided to finally make a move." He chuckled, leaning his forehead on mine.

"You mean, you like me?"

"No, I make out with everyone, all the time." He deadpanned. I giggled, running my thumb across his lips and showing his all the red that had transferred.

"Totally worth it." He smirked, kissing the tip of my nose sweetly.

*I'm not gonna get anything done with this man around.*

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life (32/50) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1758 Chapter Summary: A few days after the release with Jagged Stone, many things have gone back to normal. Well, kind of. Adrien and Marinette have been having a lot more sleepovers and movie/game nights, but they're just friends, right? Hawkmoth says time for another akuma! Author's Note: i have a love/hate relationship with this one. I really wanted to write another akuma battle but it was really hard for some reason, but I like everything else about the chapter. Also, I want to see Marinette and Adrien play Mario Kart.

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Alya, Nino, and Chloé were ecstatic. On Friday, Master Fu had left Miraculous boxes in their rooms for them. Clearly, he agreed it would be beneficial to have the extra backup against Hawkmoth and his newfound persuasiveness. Marinette knew it was hard for Master Fu to let other Kwamis out in the world, but it would really give Marinette and Adrien a hand.

And they had been helping out! Hawkmoth akumatized a kid over the weekend, and it was the perfect chance to give Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Queen Bee a chance to get back out there. It's safe to say Hawkmoth wasn't expecting it, and he was probably going to up his game with there being more Miraculous holders against him. The team needed to be prepared.

After a week, Adrien and Marinette have been having as many sleepovers as they can get. Adrien keeps telling his father and Nathalie he has projects with her, and he kept calling or texting to say he was staying the night, it was safer than waiting around for a ride home. For some reason, Nathalie didn't argue it.

"They asked me if I know who Rena Rouge and Carapce are," Adrien said as they raced in Mario Kart.

"What did you say?" Marinette asked. "Ha! Blue shell coming for you!" She cheered.

Adrien groaned when he dropped into fifth place. "I told them I had no clue. They and Chloé just showed up the other day, and we've been making do."

"Good idea," Marinette nodded. "We don't need anyone knowing their identities, us and Chloé are enough," She sighed. "Yes!" She jumped up as the screen showed he crossing the finish line in first place. "Told you I play too much Mario Kart."

With a defeated nod, Adrien laughed as Marinette went on to select the next course. "They also kind of mentioned they don't like how much I've been over here? They think it's weird."

"Well, are you going to stop?" Marinette turned her head to look at him.

"No way, I have to beat you at Mario Kart eventually!" He pushed her shoulder. "I told them I was at Nino's helping him catch up on school work."

Marinette chuckled when she selected Rainbow Road. "And they believed it because they don't like Nino and probably think he isn't good at school."

"Naturally," Adrien said. "God, I'm gonna fall off this map like seventeen times in the first lap. Why, Mari?"

Just as Adrien said that, he drove right off the course. He also drove off the course when he heard a crash. "What a shame! An Akuma attack!" Adrien called out. "Guess we can't finish the race."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "We'll be playing later," She said as the turned off the TV and stood up.

"Tikki."

"Plagg."

The two transformed into their superhero selves and saw a flash of light come from a few blocks away. Ladybug opened her yo-yo to call the others, but Rena Rouge and Carapace were already running towards her and Chat Noir, and Queen Bee was coming from behind. "Good, we all heard the crash," Ladybug announced and tucked her yo-yo back onto her waist. "Has anyone seen anything?"

"Not yet," Rena Rouge responded. "Just heard the Akuma come from that way," She pointed behind her. "And Carapace and I figured this is where we would find you."

Queen Bee furrowed her eyebrows. "What? No, the Akuma came from that way," She pointed in the opposite direction.

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other. "Don't tell me there's two," Chat Noir said. "That's not...normal?" He sighed.

"Okay, I guess we have to split up. Carapace, you come with me. The three of you head towards the one Rena Rouge heard," She directed to the group. "Everyone, stay safe."

Ladybug and Carapace took off in the opposite direction. "Two akumas? Has he done that before?" Carapace asked Ladybug.

"Not to start with. We've had it where they can duplicate, but that doesn't normally happen until after a little while," She replied. "I'm not even sure if they're the same Akuma, or two different people."

Ladybug held her yo-yo up to her ear. "Chat, you guys see anything?" She asked.

"Yeah, over by the school. You?" He replied.

"Not yet," Just as she said that, there was a crash right around the corner. "Now we do."

Chat Noir grunted as he jumped out of the way. "All this Akuma has done is throw cars at us and grunt. He hasn't said anything."

"We're just encountering ours. Stay safe," She said and put the yo-yo back on her waist. She nodded to Carapace, and at the same time they began running towards the Akuma. It looked like Stoneheart, but three times his size and a lot more violent. Stoneheart was years ago, why did Hawkmoth decide to create this one now?

Carapace laughed. "The old man must be running out of ideas," He said.

"Maybe we can beat him the same way we did years ago," Ladybug thought out loud. Just as she was about to call her lucky charm, Carapace yelled and grabbed her arm.

"Shell-ter!" He screamed, and a shield popped up around them. "What the hell is happening?" He asked as they stared at the Akuma.

The Akuma seemed to pixelate, and was shrinking down. The Akuma was now a copy of The Puppeteer, but again, three times the original size. "Manon?" Ladybug called out. She looked so different, but that was what she looked like when she was Akumatized.

"I am not Manon!" The Akuma yelled. "I am Copy. And you will give me your Miraculous!" The Akuma demanded. Though they looked like the Puppeteer, they sounded nothing like Manon. The voice was distorted, switching from really deep to really high, and everything in between.

"Well, this should be...interesting," Ladybug signed and called Chat Noir on her yo-yo. "You figure out what your Akuma can do?"

Chat Noir was breathing heavily. "Oh yeah," He said as he was running. "Yours changing from Akuma to Akuma, too?"

"Yep. Twins, maybe?"

"That, or one is a fake," Chat Noir replied.

"I doubt it," Ladybug said. "He wouldn't want to risk not getting a Miraculous."

With a groan, Chat Noir hung up his baton. "What's she been saying?" Ladybug asked Carapace.

Carapace shrugged. "I think they're trying to persuade you again."

"I won't let that happen. I've got too many other things to worry about and won't be persuaded," Ladybug determined.

"And if it takes over, you now I got your back, dude," Carapace promised.

Ladybug smiled and nodded. "Okay, I have a plan."

As Ladybug explained the plan quickly and quietly to Carapace, Copy was shifting into any Akuma that could break through the forcefield. Nothing was working, but it sure was distracting.

As Copy retreated back to switch Akumas again, the forcefield dropped to start the plan.

"Ah, I see you're finally deciding to join me," Copy, now Silencer with a twist, pointed out. They changed again, now as Lady Wifi, holding up the phone and ready to strike.

Copy started throwing the pause buttons at Ladybug and Carapace, both of them dodging flawlessly. Copy was clearly getting frustrated. "Come on, Marinette," Copy sing-songed. "Where's Adrien? Aren't you worried that since you guys are separated, he could be hurt?" Copy asked. "If you give me your Miraculous, you could go save him now."

Ladybug stopped moving and stared at Copy. "Ladybug! Don't!" Carapace yelled as he stood next to her.

She burst out laughing. "You think I'd fall for that again?" She directed at Copy. "No way! I know the rest of my team is safe, and they're just as strong. Hawkmoth really needs to learn some new tricks."

"Come on," Copy egged on. "Listen to me, your best friend," They continued. "Go ahead and hand it over."

Ladybug didn't move again, but saw Carapace sneak away while Copy was focused on Ladybug. She was staring at Copy, while Copy was slowly getting closer.

Marinette didn't realize how long the back and forth lasted, but it was a while. She continued to lead Copy to believe she almost was going to give up her earrings, but at the last second would back out. She couldn't imagine how annoyed Hawkmoth was, but she knew he wouldn't give up.

Finally, after Copy was almost going to give up, Carapace threw his shield from behind and hit Copy in the head. Copy fell forward, and at the perfect time, Carapace yelled, "Shell-ter!" And captured Ladybug and Copy into a green forcefield.

Copy was nearly losing consciousness, which seemed to make it hard to focus on being Lady Wifi. Copy pixelated again, turning back into what Ladybug guessed was what Copy really looked like. She picked up the piece of paper in Copy's hand.

"Oops," She said when she ripped it in half, and the Akuma flew out. "Well, isn't that lucky! No more evildoing for you, little Akuma."

Ladybug captured the Akuma, and Carapace dropped the forcefield. They high-fived each other, and ran as fast as they could to find the other three heroes and capture the other Akuma. Just as Ladybug and Carapace arrived, they saw their Akuma pixelating just like the other one, and Rena Rouge snapped the paper out of Copy's hand. "Gotcha!" Ladybug yelled as she landed in front of Copy and the other heroes.

"Talk about perfect timing," Rena Rouge said as the purified Akuma flew away.

"Where's Chat?" Ladybug asked, looking around.

Rena Rouge pointed to a building a few rooftops away. "He got hit and went to go recharge, but Queen Bee and I handled the rest of Copy. Speaking of, we should help them get home."

Ladybug nodded. "Yeah, of course. You and Carapace can take care of that, right?" She asked.

"Yeah, it's no problem," Rena Rouge said and started to walk towards her respectful twin.

Ladybug took off toward the rooftop Chat Nour was on. "Adrien, are you okay?" She said when she saw Chat Noir laying on the roof.

Chat Noir started to sit up. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a little hit."

Grabbing his hands, she helped Chat Noir stand up. "You had me worried," Ladybug said as she pulled him into a hug.

When they released, Chat Noir and Ladybug- no, Adrien and Marinette, were staring at each other. With very little thought, they looked at each other, and leaned in to share a kiss.

---

Alya Césaire @alyacesaire

WE'RE WINNING TODAY BOYS

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Royal Parade of Scotland" on YouTube

Down in Australia it sounds like a Billy bong but everywhere else it sounds like the bagpipes well in New Zealand it sounds like Billy bong too and the atmosphere it's thinner it sounds very weird it makes that noise of that thing that you spin around in the air on a string. And we're attacking them with it down there fiercely we need the concrete badly and we need that stupid matrix up to be a block and we need it up bad. And we're going to push for it.

This is a Scottish parade but no it's a military parade and this is what they do with the head of all military parades and today they're going to have one in Britain in the UK they heard they're being overrun and they're going at it now and they're going to clear them out of the military and they're going to March very shortly right down the street and they're going to tell them off when they do that is they shout at them. And they yell very loudly they're going to tell those people to back up in the street and today if they don't they're going to hit them very fast and it's almost not even noticeable. They hit them in The shins or they hit them in the toe and they crumple most of the time in pain and they're not supposed to be there while they're marching they're marching out of every single barracks in the UK to destroy these retarded assholes. But it really is is a move to go after ghwb and his grandma and to get the data and Intel both of them have some and Queen Elizabeth because the man would kill each other and nobody else will be around she'd walk off with it. There's going to be a huge fight and it's over her and over ghwb it's going on very shortly

Thor Freya

So my husband looks up and says it's very good to know all this and congratulating Thor Freya and his people so superb use of knowledge and it's very applicable here and I'm congratulating my husband on one of the most really weirdest and absurd uses of a bagpipe sound in history and a Billy bong I've never heard of anything so crazy or weird or strange but that's him it's kind of a new toy I guess you said sure but when you use a flute or instrument you're more or less creating like a reverse vacuum it's like a wind tunnel but you could create a vacuum and you could do it with some sort of a machine but really you can create a vacuum with the heater that's from the those lucky cigarettes you can make a kazoo activate you just reverse it and you'd have to make it a micro kazoo so I worked on it and I made it and it works I'm putting it on the market and I have other ones too one sounds like a Billy bong and the other one sounds like a bagpipe and the bagpipe one comes a little bigger and you can you have these buttons their holes you can press and it makes the sound different

Hera

My wife is a little odd too I say these things and I come up with an idea she thinks it's very weird and strange but she makes it from scratch that's very strange that's very nice and it's very great it's a great feeling to have her backing me up in in a way that is really well-rounded and all encompassing

Zues

We'll talk a little weird but not that weird and I get it all it's really good

Hera

I'm looking for it in stores he said that you can make a one for like hard not kicker 5150 accessory that while you're going down the road it would sound like a bagpipe you might put it separately so it's not the tarnish it but tainted really but really that's what it means

Thor Freya

We're getting sick you're turning the whole thing around don't have a war there because of you guys well good anyways and they do about it they're going to send tons and tons of idiots but you need it like Jager to just sit there and fry them all you know that too

Chris crowell

We have too much s*** going on for this we need to take it back and watch we don't need any self-activating kazoo by heat that's so damn weird

Billy z

The hell are you doing all day but inventing stuff and trying to get money to you pretty soon they're going to own every company on Earth and they're going to be able to get money to you somehow so you see the strategy and it's really ruining everything and we won't have anything and we won't know about it cuz nobody really knows who owns what or owns what and it's mostly it's retards fault so probably should stop him and today we're going to try it's going to be a huge War it's starting today and it's going to the 20th and possibly past it you think it's probably several days past the 20th which is probably more likely the case. We're going to New Hampshire too and your mom said there's evidence in these people don't know about it and she was there and she avoided it and the other one was there in hiding and they know how to hide and they're in tunnels as they have to be and she was trying for it but nothing hard she saw so many people die and was very sad and it's upsetting and it's gross and he shouldn't have done it

Mac

Well you can thank my grandpappy he's going to do the surgeries but really it was inspired I think my more lock who helped having the talk over the house that day and I don't think it would be foreigners

Zues Hera

We heard that they did that and that's why the whole thing is blamed on them and we heard what you said about the future and it's true because it happens anyways so going after them pretty hard I'm going to put it out there correctly we thank you for your interest because these people are nothing except an insult they're terrible

Mac Daddy I want several things done today and I'm making a list one is to start taking them out of the mass media and choose to take them out of the government they lost most of the midterm elections in the United States and they're losing other elections globally and I want to make sure that we go after the people who are running things and they have a ton of stuff and there's a certain level soldier who needs to go after it and really it's the sergeant level and they're trying to say go after sergeants and they're kind of older people and just say it and it's a trick I don't see what the trick is my grand nephew takes it the right way every time whoa that girl is going to cross-eyed that's not sergeant. And teams are terrible these people's demons is a disrespectful thing they say

We're on this too and we're going to handle that repercussions and there are concussions they want but really they're at war with these people they're vulgar disgusting their humongous pigs and we have to nail them here all the time now and he said it earlier and I understand it and of course I'm doing it but we're not fast enough we don't have the volume I need more bases so he says to pull up the colony and grind it and make more bases and Trump's right he's asking for it let's use his stuff to spearhead the campaign we're going to go ahead and do that he needs to go okay a****** doesn't need to replicate I'm going to pull him up here in massive numbers right now too

Thor Freya

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

The Problem with MSM

So I honestly don't have many followers. I'm also prone to going on tangents. And most of my posts are rooted in politics. Not by choice mind you. I was not the one that decided literally everything in existence is political. I'm also not the one that created the view points that want everything to be political. TL;DR At the bottom.

To start off however, I need you to understand the process of radicalization.

Find someone who feels discontent with how a situation is, or how their life is

Tell this person that what's happening to them is not their fault

Place the blame for this person's problems on a certain group (political group, racial group, religious group, etc.)

Talk to the person like you know how they feel, "drop your guard" and tell them "problems you've had that were not your fault" blaming that same group

Show them that they are either a victim or oppressed in some way, shape, or form.

Slowly start swaying their views further to the extreme, by showing them other instances of "others who are being attacked or are victims" of said group.

Promptly but softly oppose any "differing views" with warped information or flat out lies

Get them to start going to events and taking to others that have already been radicalized

Have you and another radicalized individual, keep track of this person and say you support them and their issues

Sit back and watch

Now this is a rough lost but more or less the bare bones basics of radicalizing other people. Though in some cases it takes more steps and in some others it takes less. So what does this have to do with MSM (Mainstream Media)? Quite a few things in modern day actually.

The job of MSM is to get you information, as fast as humanly possible. This however was not the first goal priority in the past. In the past, the first priority was to cover a story as factually as the could, and look for more information keeping people constantly updated. Here we get to our first real problem for Media today. Technology. The Advent of modern technology has been both a blessing and a curse in this regard. And of course I'm talking about the internet in its current form. The internet being the very center of information distribution in 2019. And it has been for almost 12 years now.

So what did this change? Basically everything we know today. "Old wives tales" are now a Google search away. Feeling sick? WebMD says you have Cancer. Looking for the next hour story? Check CNN's Twitter account. The Internet brought us a great, many things. But it has taken away just as many. MSM has had to slowly move operations into social media in order to try and stay relevant. This because many people have unplugged, and have gone full digital. The only real exceptions being places of business. And with the world at your finger tips at the clock of a button, being factual has lost its relevance. Not to mention that as far back as 2013-2014 activists started working for MSM companies. Most notably progressive activists. This causes many problems we currently see today. Below is an example of what a headline used to look like, and what most headlines look like now:

Normal headline: Shooting in Birmingham leaves 3 dead and several injured during city wide festival.

Headline now: White, Trump supporter, Nazi, KKK, skin head, punches 2 people in hate crime.

See the difference? The first headline shows the basic facts and dives into known details during the article. Often they'd avoid opinions all together. The second one one the other hand, blatantly discloses anything that could generate clicks. Why? Because true or not, outrage sells. So over the past several years, MSM has been slowly radicalizing us. But they do this on a bipartisan level.

Are you black? The cops will kill you, and the white man is evil. Can't find a job? Racism. Are you a woman? Then you're unhappy because "rape culture". Do you regret having sex with that guy? Well guess what? He actually raped you without you realizing. Are you white? You're evil. Are you strait? You're a monster and should give all your money to gay people. Are you a man? You are responsible for every rape ever committed. You're also a pedophile and violent. Are you a strait white man? Oh boy you won the jackpot because you're basically Hitler.

See my point here? MSM spends most of it's time trying to rage bait you into clicking their articles. And in doing so we've gotten so lazy as a country that half the time, we don't even read past the headlines. And MSM knows this. They don't care if you read what they write. They are just radicalizing you so they can keep feeding you outrage. Because the more often they do it, the more often you will click it, skim all of 3 lines and then hop on Twitter and talk about how outraged you are. Sure, we are just as to blame for letting it happen to us, but most of us used to have at least some trust in the media. But after SEVERAL severely awfully false hit pieces that were headline news for almost months, many of us have started staying away from MSM.

What incidents might I be talking about?

Covington Catholic controversy (Almost every media outlet took a 7 second clip and ran with it. Turns out, there was a full 2hr video out there, and the Native American man, whom CNN interviewed, lied his ass off. Most media also chose to ignore the VERY beginning of the video which showcased a group called The Black Hebrew Israelites. These individuals, called Trump a homosexual, called the Native Americans there "Uncle Tomahawk", and said Gay people should not have rights. THESE CATHOLIC STUDENTS, were appalled by this statement. But what did we see in the media? "Racist Maga hat kid threatens and blocks the path of a Poor innocent Native American man."

Duke Lacrosse. Years after these kids were crucified by the Media and many others, the girl actually came out saying it never happened. You know who reported on this? Next to no one.

Ferguson. Now as controversial as this one is, the media took and RAN with it. What followed after the skewed coverage was a cult like gathering that led to phrases like, "hands up don't shoot" and "oink oink, bang bang". But Obama had the issue federally investigated. Both witnesses and the coroner report said basically the same thing. That he was aggressively wrestling with the cop trying to take his gun. But, it's too late. Now all cops are evil, and Democrat politicians are quoting it like it happened yesterday, and claiming the cop guilty. Why? Because MSM already got what they needed. They radicalized the individuals they wanted, people who will come back to them for, "facts".

And what does all of this boil down to? A video that made me write this out.

2 things need to be said here. 1. The "manifesto" as it were, was actually debunked to have been uploaded by the shooter, by the site admin himself. As well as several other sources. 2. If, by some chance the manifesto was real, and he had someone upload it for him, he mentions several liberal talking points, like universal basic income, saving the environment, among other left policies.

But this brings me back to both the beginning and to this story. Assuming for a moment, the manifesto was his. How did this happen? Most of you might just jump and say, "RACIST NAZIS", or something slightly more colorful. But here is the thing. MSM is partly responsible for all of this. Assuming the conspiracy that the CIA or FBI is responsible is false, I agree with the YouTuber in the picture. I believe that if you belittle and berate someone enough over time, you can cause them to do extreme things. I mean look at this site. Look at Twitter. Look at MSM. "White people bad", "white people are evil" "K*LL all whites" "white privilege", "fuck men", "male tears", "man spreading", "mansplaining", "Yes all men". All of this. This is popular. This is a trend. And it's unacceptable. Because frankly, it's basically bullying someone into a corner. Personally? I've been told by a few companies that are scared of social justice warriors and the online hate mob, that their company is actively not hiring white individuals. And I wish, REALLY WISH, I was making that up.

Is it any wonder, that people who go to the internet as an escape end up in a low point in their lives and then decide to do something awful? And it's the same with school shootings too. The news puts out, the name, ethnicity, how tall they are, and their entire life story, for weeks at a time. And now for much longer, because they support the desire to ban guns. So they need these things to happen more often. So the glorify the shooter, and keep talking about him/them for months. But here is where the story gets fun.

Columbine's shooting, was actually supposed to be a bombing. The kids who did it? Not the "school losers" the media talked about. The trench coat club? They were not even apart of it. More info on that here. As well as other places on Google.

More or less This video covers what the media got wrong in their rush to cover everything. What they did not intend on, was making these two boys heros to those bullied in school. Mostly boys, who are torn down and told they aren't enough, that they don't matter, they are isolated, bullied, harassed. So they look for someone who stood up to their bullies. What they were given, was a sociopath who manipulated a suicidal boy into helping him commit mass murder. Almost all of MSM were quick to say they were bullied into it. What's worse however, is Parkland. The Parkland 5, (the students whom MSM propped up for months) one of them came out admitting, that she bullied the guy who shot up the school. Said he was weird and that she needed to do it. This is one of the teens the media has PROPPED UP, saying we should listen to their infinite wisdom. A girl who is probably half responsible for the shooting.

Start paying attention. Start doing research. And for the love of all that is holy, STOP BULLYING PEOPLE! I don't care what your narrative is, or what it means. IE:

White people are human

Black people are human

Hispanic people are human

Gay people are human

Strait people are human

Women are human

Men are human

Stop normalizing anything to the contrary. Because when you do, you become part of the problem.

TL;DR The media only cares about themselves and clicks. They don't care who they radicalize, so long as you keep giving them traffic. Which for them is money. Do your research, look into things, and don't bully people. I'm looking at you progressives.