Hellfire and Honeysuckle, an Eddie Munson fanfiction
Chapter 1 : Here
Chapter 2 : Here
Chapter 3 : Here
Chapter 4 : Here
Chapter 5 : Here
Chapter 6 : Here
Chapter 7 : Here
Chapter 8 : Here
Chapter 9 : Here
Chapter 10 : Here
Chapter 11 : Here
Chapter 12 : Here
Epilogue : Editing
One Shots :
A Tale of Two Teachers
This one is all smut and fantasies, based on erotic audios by reddit user OrangeBregalad and some of our personal DMs. Seriously, proceed with caution. It gets wild.
"The nonbinary afab who goes by she/her, dresses femininely, and uses a push-up bra when I—" when you what? What's wrong with her?
Is she not nonbinary enough for you? Is the way she experiences her queerness and how she presents not perfect enough for you? Nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny, right? So why is she the exception? Why does she have to hate herself to appeal to your standards? Why is she any less trans—any less worthy of respect—cause it's "not visible"? Queer solidarity my ass. Don't spout this bullshit on Pride, man.
Summary: After Eddie spent the night, he wakes up in the most inconvenient position, leaving him in an awkward position.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, Lots of smut, nasty, swearing, LONGEST SMUT EVER this beat the last record, a lil bit of fluff at the end.
Notes: You don't need to read part 1, but it would give more context
The morning light was soft—one of those pale golden kinds that crept in without asking, slipping between the curtains and painting quiet shapes across the living room. The storm was long gone, the skies now a calm stretch of blue, feathered with wisps of cloud.
Eddie stirred first.
Warmth. That’s what he noticed before anything else. The heat wrapped around him—cozy and grounding. His eyelids fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, and it took a few seconds for his brain to fully catch up to what his body already knew.
His arm was slung low around her waist, hand tucked just beneath the hem of her hoodie where soft, bare skin met his fingertips. She was curled in close, her back pressed snug against his chest, their legs tangled beneath the blanket like they’d done this a hundred times before.
His other arm acted as a pillow under her head, still half-asleep and tingly, but he didn’t dare move.
And then it hit him.
Fuck.
He froze, a jolt of panic ran through his still-waking body as he realized, with crystal clarity, that he was hard. Fully. Painfully. Inconveniently.
Morning wood. Stupid. That’s all it was. A biological betrayal.
But his heart had already picked up its pace, thudding loud in his ears as awareness sunk in. Everything about her was soft. Warm. Close. And his body had the absolute audacity to respond like this.
He held his breath, willing himself to stay still, to not ruin the fragile peace of the morning. Because it wasn’t going to last. She was going to wake up and he would have to pretend like everything was normal. He wanted to savor the moment, where she was still asleep. And she felt… Relaxed. Serene.
Meanwhile, Eddie was spiraling.
Because he could smell the faint scent of peaches and cream from her lotion. He could feel the way her fingers were loosely curled around his forearm, like they belonged there. Like she had reached for him in her sleep and decided to stay.
His brain short-circuited under the weight of it all.
They’d shared space before—movie nights that ran too long, sleepovers that ended with accidental tangles of limbs, giggles muffled in the dark. But this felt different. He felt different. Because lately, she’d been showing up in his thoughts more often—between guitar chords, between heartbeats.
Her laugh. Her eyes. Her lips.
He was in trouble.
Okay. Okay. Breathe, Munson. Don’t make it weird, he told himself. You're just friends. Best friends.
He scolded himself, squeezing his eyes shut again, but the feeling of her against him was electric—every point of contact lighting up like a fuse.
And then—she shifted.
Just a little. A sleepy adjustment. But it was enough to wiggle and press her hips back into him, and Eddie felt every single neuron in his body scream from the friction.
He froze, statue-still, heart in his throat.
She didn’t mean it. She’s just moving. She’s asleep. Relax.
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, pleading for his body to calm down—even as his thoughts ran in the opposite direction. Fuck, his body wasn’t listening. It was a traitor, every nerve humming, every muscle strung tight. His mind raced for distractions—bills, the time he tripped over his own amp cord during practice, literally anything that wasn’t her.
Then, she sighed—a soft, content sound that escaped her lips like a breath of music. Her shoulders relaxed, her body settling deeper against him.
It took everything in him not to pull her closer.
His fingers twitched against her waist, craving more contact. More skin. Just a little.
But he didn’t move. Couldn’t.
This wasn’t about lust. Not really. It was something deeper. Something slower. The kind of want that made his chest ache. The kind that whispered stay, when every logical part of him screamed run.
Eventually, she’d wake. She’d stretch, smile, maybe tease him for being her personal heater. And he’d laugh. Pretend nothing had happened. Pretend like his whole world has changed and he’s just being confronted by it now.
And then—she stirred again.
A small groan left her lips as she blinked against the morning light, one hand rising to rub her eyes. Her body pressed closer, just for a second. Eddie didn’t move—didn’t breathe.
He felt it the moment she registered where she was, waiting for her reaction with bated breath—his arm wrapped around her, her body flush against his, the space between them nonexistent. Her breath caught, just a little. Not enough to panic, but enough that he knew she felt it too.
And she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she stayed right there, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Morning,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep, low and a little hoarse.
It hit him low in the gut. That voice—unfiltered, unguarded—felt like something precious. Something meant just for him.
“Hey,” he replied, managing a small smile, even as his heart tried to beat its way out of his chest.
She turned slightly, just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, lips parted, a lazy warmth in her gaze. His breath stuttered, taken by her beauty.
Jesus H. Christ.
His eyes glanced down at her lips. Her lips were so close. He swallowed hard. He could kiss her right now. If he leaned in, just barely, he could find out what she tasted like.
Do not kiss her. Do not kiss her. Do not even THINK about kissing her.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said softly, a little grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Again.”
“You always do,” he said, voice low and a little rough. “I don’t mind.”
Eddie’s heart was pounding like it wanted to stage dive right out of his chest. Loud enough he was pretty sure she could hear it. Say something, he told himself.
Make a joke. Break the tension. Be cool.
“You want breakfast?” he added, too quiet, too hopeful.
She hummed. “Mmm… later. Let’s stay like this a little longer.”
His breath hitched. His breath caught, heart skipped a beat. She wanted to stay in his arms a while longer.
“Yeah,” he said, pressing his cheek into her hair like it was no big deal. Like his heart wasn’t singing. “Yeah, we can do that.”
She nestled back against him fully, her body molding to his again beneath the blanket. He barely had time to savor the feeling before—
She froze.
And so did he.
Because she had wiggled. Just slightly.
And now—
Now there was no denying it. His morning wood, already inconvenient, was now… well. Flush against her. No buffer. No mercy. Just thin fabric and his rapidly unraveling self-control.
She let out a groggy groan and mumbled, “Move your arm, it’s digging into me,” her voice raspy and oblivious.
And then—she wriggled. Just a little, but enough to grind down, unintentionally, right against the worst possible place.
Eddie’s soul left his body.
“That’s… uh. That’s not my arm,” he muttered, dying inside.
Silence.
She stilled. Then, slowly, she turned her head, just enough to glance back at him. A sleepy smirk pulled at her lips—mischief and curiosity wrapped in one unbearably pretty expression.
His mouth went dry. His brain—gone.
It was the way he said it—so panicked, so mortified, like he genuinely thought she might kick him off the couch in horror. Maybe she should have been embarrassed too, or at least pretended to be. But instead, she found herself biting the inside of her cheek, trying to contain the completely inappropriate spark low in her stomach.
There was something about the way he stammered through it, voice cracking, face flushed. Hard against her, warm and twitchy and embarrassed. So honest. So Eddie.
It was kind of hot.
Her heart thudded hard in her chest as she stayed still, acutely aware of the way his body was curved around hers, of the way his arm still held her like something fragile. She could feel his breath, shallow and nervous, fanning gently against the back of her neck. It sent shivers down her spine and lit a fire beneath her core.
This was new.
Her cheeks flushed with the realization, but instead of pulling away, instead of teasing him or laughing it off like she might’ve before, she moved—just slightly. A gentle shift of her hips, enough to press herself back into him with intention this time.
Just to see.
A test.
Her fingers, still loosely curled around his forearm, tightened just a little. And she let herself feel it—the thickness of him slotted behind her, the warmth of his chest pressed to her back, the arm at her waist, possessive in a way that felt…good. Too good.
The reaction was immediate—his breath hitched, his whole body going rigid behind her like someone had flicked a live wire through his spine. He didn’t trust himself to move, to speak, to exist without setting the entire room on fire.
His hand twitched against her bare skin. “You, uh… You’re playing with fire.”
A shiver raced through her, goosebumps rising as her stomach fluttered in response. She swallowed hard, heart hammering, surrendering to the ache blooming in her chest that settled low in her belly. Because it wasn’t just about how he felt against her. It was Eddie.
“I like playing with fire…” she murmured, voice soft, playful, but breathier than she meant.
And that alone—just those words—felt like touching a match to gasoline.
Eddie exhaled shakily behind her, a sound low and rough, like it had been dragged out of his chest against his will. His fingers twitched on her waist again, tightening slightly, just for a second.
She could practically feel him holding himself back.
And that made something deep in her twist with want.
This wasn’t just tension. This was everything unsaid. Every long glance, every shared laugh that lingered a little too long, every almost-touch that had haunted her in the quiet moments when she let herself imagine.
And now… he was here. Tangled up in her. Shaking like she was going to break him if she moved the wrong way.
She wanted to lean in. Closer. Deeper.
“You’re evil,” he groaned. It came out rough, barely controlled, and it only spurred her on some more.
“Tell me to stop…” she murmured, her hand drifting to rest over his hand. Her fingers traced lightly over his knuckles and his rings, feather-light, guiding his hand to travel further up her chest. Every stroke lit up his nerves like flint and steel. The cold touch of his rings kissed her along her skin.
“I should. I’m hanging on by a thread.” His voice was hoarse. He didn’t sound convincing. Not even to himself.
“So stop me,” she murmured, her words barely a whisper but laced with provocation. Her body pressed tighter into his, fitting like something that had always belonged. Her legs tangled with his, skin against skin, warm and maddening. “Tell me no.”
Her pulse thrummed in her throat, in her fingertips, as she curled his hand over her breast. A low buzz coiled in her belly—something wild and electric and dangerously close to hope.
Because this didn’t feel like pretending anymore.
Eddie’s heart pounded, deafening in his ears. He knew he should’ve moved. Should’ve backed off before things crossed a line they couldn’t uncross. But her breath ghosted over his neck, and the soft weight of her breast in the palm of his hand—God, it was like they were made for each other.
A quiet gasp slipped from her lips as her head dropped back against his shoulder. The sound undid him. His arousal pressed thick and aching against her, drawn to every breath she took. He followed her lead, spellbound, barely daring to breathe. His touch came gentle—tender—as though she might break beneath his hands.
Then she shifted her hips, rolling them back against him in a way that left nothing to interpretation. Heat surged through her, fierce and rising, coiling tight in her core. She drew in a sharp breath, soft but unmistakable—and it broke something open in him.
Eddie groaned, deep and guttural, forehead falling against her shoulder like he could hide from the rush of heat, from the flood of want that nearly stole his ability to think.
His hands flexed around her. “You’re gonna kill me,” he rasped, voice hoarse and broken open.
She turned just enough that her lips brushed his jaw, the faintest touch—just breath and heat. “What are you waiting for?” she whispered, the words light but edged with challenge. A soft, dangerous dare.
Then, wicked and breathless: “Are you finally gonna fuck me, Eddie?”
It wasn’t just arousal that surged through her—it was power. Desire. A sweet ache that throbbed deep inside her. The look in his eyes—wide, wild, and wrecked—was enough to leave her breathless.
And then he captured her lips and pulled her into a deep and ravenous kiss.
Hungry, raw, devastating. His lips were firm, desperate, tugging hers apart like he wanted to consume every breath. It stole the air from her lungs. Her sense of anything except him. All the tension that had simmered between them burst free in a single, hungry kiss.
Her hands curled into his hair, tangling with his curls. His tongue tangled with hers, matching her rhythm like he’d always known it. Her body arched into him, moaning softly into his mouth as he kneaded her breast, rolling her nippled between his fingers.
She was dizzy with it. Buzzing, her body lighting up from the sensation. His kiss was messy and eager and so good it left her reeling. He kissed like he was afraid it would stop—sucking on her lips so roughly, she was sure they would be left red and swollen.
They pulled at each other, frantic and laughing between gasps and curses as their clothes were pulled off in a blur. Layers hit the floor without care, all until their bare skin was exposed. He guided her back down onto the couch cushion.
Their eyes locked—dark, wild, and hungry.
They moved together, tangled close, kissing like they couldn’t stop. Like they wouldn’t. Not until they ran out of air.
His mouth trailed to her collarbone, then lower, brushing soft kisses over her skin like he was learning her by heart.
His curls tickled her shoulders, light and unintentional.
She trembled beneath him, aching, breath hitching—alive in a way that made her skin feel too small.
Because she could feel it.
Not just how badly he wanted her body.
But how badly he wanted her.
And that—God, that—turned her on more than anything.
“Flip over, sweet cheeks.”
His hands were steady—firm, but gentle—as he guided her onto her knees.
She gasped, caught off guard by how easily he shifted her, how confidently he pulled her hips up, leaving her ass up in the air. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as her face pressed into the couch cushion, breath shallow, body humming, while he knelt behind her.
This new position lit something raw and primal inside him.
He took a beat—just one—to admire her, to run his hands over the smooth lines of her back, the curve of her ass presented so perfectly to him. His palm connected with a soft slap, a sting softened by affection, and her breath hitched when her cheeks jiggled under the force.
“Fuck,” Eddie muttered, eyes taking in every inch of her body.
His hands caressed her slowly, sliding up her spine and back down again. Her skin was hot, trembling beneath his touch. She shifted, embarrassed and shy.
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the base of her spine. She shivered with anticipation.
He positioned his leaking tip at her entrance, savoring how wet she was as he stroked along her slit. Soft, beautiful whimpers escaped her lips while she wiggled her hips, chasing more pleasure.
“Eddie, please,” she whispered, heat rushing to her cheeks.
“What’s that, baby?” Eddie teased, voice low and syrup-slick as he took his sweet, torturous time with her.
His swollen tip slid through her soaked folds, slick and maddening, teasing her with slow precision. An arrogant smirk played on his lips as she moaned—sweet, desperate—at the slight friction he allowed her.
“Come on, Eddie,” she whined, writhing in the heat of her arousal. Her hand reached back to swat at him, more plea than protest.
He caught her wrist easily, chuckling. “Tell me exactly what you want, sweet girl,” he murmured, kissing along her wrist. “Say it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
He punctuated his promise with a sharp smack to her ass, the sound sharp and deliciously obscene in the charged silence. Her body jolted, hips twitching from the impact, and he felt her clench in response—tight and ready.
When she glanced over her shoulder, their eyes met, and his breath caught. That look—dazed and wanting, with heat simmering beneath it—nearly undid him. He cursed softly, dragging his palm over the sting in slow, soothing circles. She sighed, grateful for the touch, knowing it would leave his handprint blooming across her skin.
“You know what I want,” she huffed, flushed and breathless.
“I can’t read minds, sweetheart,” he said with a wicked grin. “Use your words.”
Another smack. Sharper this time. Her thighs trembled.
She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction—but fuck, she needed him. All of him.
“I want your cock buried deep inside me,” she snapped, the words tumbling out in one shameless, breathless exhale.
He smirked—filthy, triumphant, and completely wrecked by her.
“That’s my girl,” he rasped. “I’m gonna ruin you.”
He pressed his tip to her entrance, firm and patient, the heat of her already drawing him in. Her body tensed, muscles flexing in anticipation, and he pushed—just the head at first—watching the way her back arched, how her breath caught like it had punched right out of her lungs. The stretch had her gasping, jaw slack, a groan muffled into the couch cushions.
“Ohhh f-fuck—too big…”
“You can take it, sweet cheeks,” he grunted, fighting to keep still. “Just a little more.”
Her body was gripping him like a vice, hot and impossibly tight. “E-Eds—”
She didn’t finish his name—because in one slow, relentless push, he buried himself inside her, all the way to the hilt. His hips met her ass with a deep, heavy slap, his balls flush against her core.
A choked moan tore from her throat as her body fought to adjust, trembling beneath him. He stayed still, every muscle tense with restraint, his fingers sinking into her hips like anchors. His lips brushed over the curve of her spine, placing sweet kisses down the length of it, grounding them both.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. “You feel so fuckin’ good…”
He didn’t move at first. Just kissed along her shoulder, one slow breath after another, waiting. Letting her adjust. Letting her feel him.
And when her hips rolled—curious, testing—he groaned into her skin.
“D-Do that again,” he panted. “Fuuuck.”
She did, a slow grind of her hips that had him seeing stars. His eyes fixated at where they connected, transfixed. Her arousal glistened around his cock as she rocked back onto him.
“Like that, baby?” she purred, her voice thick with mischief.
He gritted his teeth, hands tightening. “Ohhh fuckkkk, just like that.”
He thrust—slow, deep, precise—and she matched him perfectly, hips rolling in a rhythm that made his vision blur.
Needing her closer—needing more—he leaned down, pressing his chest to her back. His lips found her neck, warm and damp with sweat, trailing kisses that were more like confessions.
“This deep enough for you?” he whispered, breath hot against the shell of her ear.
She nodded, frantic. “Yes—God, yes—”
He pulled back and slammed into her, hard enough to rattle the couch. The pleasure coaxed more of her moans—raw and carnal.
“So deep, Eds—just like that,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she tried to breathe through the stretch.
Now he was moving with purpose. Each thrust sharp, deliberate, building heat between them like fire stoked to the edge of combustion. His thick throbbing cock filled her with each thrust, building the coil in her stomach—hitting all the right spots. Her moans and the slick, wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the room with something obscene and filthy.
He kissed anywhere his lips could. Her shoulders. Her spine. Her neck. Fingers bruising her hips as her walls tightened and fluttered around him.
He felt it coming—the tension in her thighs, the tremble in her breath, the way she gasped his name.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against her skin, driving into her with a relentless, consuming rhythm. “Come for me, baby. Make a mess.”
“Ed-”
And then she shattered—body taut, walls clenched tight, mouth falling open in a silent cry—tears welling along the rim of her eyes. He relentlessly pounded against her. Hard. Deep. Raw. Coming so close to the way she unraveled below him.
“F-fuck, baby—I’m gonna—” he hissed through gritted teeth, forehead pressing against her shoulder as he drove into her one last time, deeper than before.
His release surged through him like a lightning strike, wrung out by her fluttering walls, the sound of her, and the sight of her. He filled her to the brim, fucking her through her climax until she whined and trembled, hips twitching from the overstimulation. His pace wavered—just for a moment—overwhelmed by the intensity of her, by how impossibly good she felt, how perfectly she fit.
His eyes dropped to their mess, their mingled release dripping down her thighs. His mind spun in a haze. He slowly pulled out, careful, mindful of her sensitivity. She winced, sucking in a breath as he slipped free, and he immediately smoothed a hand down her back.
She went boneless, collapsing onto the couch, breath ragged and body spent.
Eddie sank onto the couch beside her, gathering her into his arms without hesitation. He draped over her, arms on either side of her body, anchoring her beneath him without crushing her. His heart thudded hard against her back, each beat still catching up with what they’d just done.
Her back met his chest, and his hand found her waist, then her belly, gently tracing lazy circles over damp, flushed skin. He hooked his chin over her shoulder, content to breathe her in.
They stayed tangled—sweaty, breathless, still connected—his weight draped over hers, his mouth pressed to her skin as if letting go wasn’t an option just yet.
The air hung heavy and warm, thick with the scent of sex and something softer underneath.
She let out a soft, shaky breath. Her cheek rested against the couch cushion, eyes closed, lips parted in that blissed-out daze. He pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder—then another, and another—like he couldn’t stop touching her, even if his body was trembling from release.
“You okay?” he murmured into her skin, voice rough but quiet.
She nodded lazily, a small smile tugging at her lips. “More than okay.”
“Good,” he whispered, exhaling into the crook of her neck. “’Cause I think I blacked out for a second.”
She giggled, the sound light and deliciously spent. “That good, huh?”
Eddie gave a soft groan and nuzzled into her shoulder. “That was… fucking unreal. You were unreal.”
She hummed, arching slightly under his touch as his hand stroked down the length of her arm. The ache between her legs was deep and lingering, but there was comfort in it—in how thoroughly he’d filled her, in how right it all felt.
His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear as he whispered, “You’re kinda dangerous, you know that?”
She turned just enough to glance at him, brows lifting in amusement. “Dangerous?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice dipping with that soft, post-coital affection that only came from being completely wrecked and totally enamored. “You make me feel like I’d do anything just to stay in this exact moment. That’s pretty fucking dangerous.”
They lay like that, limbs tangled, the room dim and quiet. Outside, the world went on—but here, in this little cocoon of warmth and tangled sheets, time didn’t matter.
------------------------
gonna take a hot shower and put on a big t shirt and my undies and i’m gonna sit on the floor and color at my coffee table like im 6 years old again and then i’ll feel better
friends, if I can give you one piece of advice for those of you who are new to work, or are about to enter the workforce, especially if you have any sort of office job:
This. Part of my job includes payroll, which is a nearly ten hour process. I have the option of getting up as early as I want/need to get this done, but I do not wake up well. So I talked to my boss, and her boss, and worked out that I can clock in Sunday nights to do whatever prep I need to do so that I can wake up at a more reasonable time and still complete payroll processes, and get off early on Mondays and Tuesdays instead. I am one of the only ppl in the company with the ability to get overtime for this reason.
I have a solid rule that I will not answer calls, emails, or group texts during off time. My boss has the same rule and will not call unless it's emergent, then will have me clock in so I'm paid for the conversation, even if it's five minutes
Every time I see someone say people just didn't vote in this election I get so pissed
We have proof that people did and that a lot did
Ballot boxed were bombed
Mail carriers dumped ballots in the swamps and ravines
Elon Musk held an illegal raffle to get people registered and bribed to vote for Trump
Nevada blocked young voters for signatures not matching their driver licenses and/or not being in cursive (remember who took out cursive from schools)
People voted
There was massive amounts of voter fraud
This election was a shit show of interference
I mean in addition to everything I just mentioned:
Elon Musk had an app that told him the results FOUR hours before (Joe Rogan accidentally ratted him out)
Don't know if this is coincidence or not but Starlink was used to help count in a lot of the swing states and then a chain of the satellites  exploded (satellites do explode so like idk maybe but seems real convenient)
Elon Musk did an interview where when asked what would happen to him if Trump lost and he just started nervously giggling and the interviewer said "It's not if you go to prison, it's how long?" To which Musk went "Exactly" and they both just laughed nervously
Not to mention Russia saying Trump owes them and then mentioning that security should be tightened because of the assassination attempts
.
There was a shit ton of fraud and interference that will never get investigated and we will all just be accused of sore losers who didn't even vote and it's so fucking frustrating
.
.
.
.
Also go ahead and google any of my claims they all have multiple trustworthy articles on them
I was an office administrator for a small business here in my hometown for several years, and spoke with the owner and Big Boss of the company daily (I'm now an office administrator for a company that operates along the entire Gulf coast, but still only three places from the Big Boss of the company - y'all be nice to your admins, okay?)
Now, I was one of two "women" working there - I put this in quotes because the other femme was a cis woman, and while I was born female, I do not identify as such - but this is Texas, so they didn't know that. I present very femme, for my safety. I was also the only queer person working there, and the only disabled person working there.
We had a new employee, two days there, who made a comment about lgbtq folks that was...less than kind. I told him so. He dove into this whole rant about wokeness, including using the N word and justifying it by stating that he'd grown up around black people and been told it was okay (as a note, we are both white). Now, I grew up around hispanic (specifically mostly mexican) folks, but that doesn't mean I can use slurs for them, ya know? And I told him as much.
Update: this is the best post I've ever made because everyone is sharing their Warm Beverage recipes in the notes. Go check the notes for more Warm Beverages That Will Fix You.
Honestly after years of watching Ben Shapiro play the genuine good faith debater so his fans can talk about how smart and reasonable and fair he is before going back to his real persona on his show, it is amazing to see someone tear that shit apart while he could do nothing but grin and take it. He comes into these “debates” pretending to be nice and respectful while not truly respecting a single person he’s talking to, sneaking in insults whenever he can, and fully planning to laugh behind their backs for being so dumb as to think their opinions matter, and people have to take it because otherwise they look like the unreasonable ones. It’s all a con for his outrage grift machine, and not a single word of it is in good faith.
So this guy decided to take one for the team and give back overtly the same disrespect Shapiro was dealing covertly. He flipped the chair around to throw him off his game to start (getting Shapiro to praise his masculinity right before revealing he was trans), ripped apart his charade, gish galloped him into silence, and then topped the whole thing off by faking the handshake that Shapiro had been doing insincerely with every participant. All while Shapiro, because he has to play the role, can’t do a thing about it. Don’t know if he just saw one thing too many and pulled this all off the top of his head, or if he planned to make a fool of Shapiro from the jump and was just waiting for the right moment, but either way go off king.
This is a sincerely important video. He came in knowing EXACTLY how Shapiro plays the game and turned the whole thing on his head. The only way Shapiro could possibly look- not GOOD, certainly, but at least not WORSE- was to sit there and take it. Check fucking mate, THAT is hoe you outmaneuver a fucker. Hell fucking yeah
Women are getting rid of their Trump supporting partners while they still legally can since they clearly don't give a shit about them or any other woman.
If you're thinking about getting a divorce, you should do it while you still can.
new reason to stay alive: outlive the trump presidency. In fact, outlive Trump. He isn’t immortal. We can live to see the day he's guaranteed to never be in office ever again and we can make sure he knows that he'll never have enough power to kill you
stay strong, friends, this isn't your fault
Chaos With Kaycee @chaoswithkaycee - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
