#pathetic imaginary arguments

[delirious-donna]

Hiromi is not one to back down from an argument. It’s the lawyer in him plus his inherent desire to always be right, even when he isn’t. He doesn’t necessarily get angry, he isn’t going to raise his voice or swear at you, but he is going to lay out his argument in excruciating detail and expect you to listen. It could be the simplest of little disagreements and Hiromi will treat it like his entire professional reputation is on the line, an imaginary jury of your peers fills the courtroom in his head and what started as a playful butting of heads grows arms and legs, maybe even a second head.

However… there is one surefire way to shut him up mid-flow, and that is to approach carefully and forcibly shove your hand across his mouth. You have to maintain eye contact to ensure it’s working, but it has never failed yet. His intelligent darkly lit eyes mellow, his breathing turns reedy and he mumbles out a moan behind the meat of your palm. Heat rushes to fill his cheeks, the warmth of his breath tickling your fingertips as you arch an eyebrow and lean in closer.

The scratch of his five o’clock shadow grazes at your palm, his eyes bouncing erratically between yours as he lets you walk him backwards toward the bedroom door. You can feel him thickening behind his trousers, his hands antsy to reach out and touch you whilst all those pesky little points he had yet to voice spill quietly out his ears… never to be heard.

The bed creaks under the intensity of your movements, bouncing on his leaking cock with such fervour that you worry you might break either the frame or Hiromi. The man in question huffs into the pillows, sweat rolling freely over his temples as you drape yourself across his chest. “What were you saying, Hiro? I can’t quite hear you now…”

He tries to speak, tries to make any noise at all that isn’t the pathetic whimpers filling the air but you’ve got him beat and the use of dirty underhanded tactics only makes him harder for you. Your teeth skim his nipples, tongue poised to flick them in turn before you return to bearing your weight forward with your hands on his shoulders. The wet ‘pap pap pap’ of your pussy greedily swallowing him down turns those keen whimpers into something only dogs would hear and all he has for you are heart eyes out on stalks and the ability to gulp like a fish out of water.

“That’s what I thought. Listen here, Mr Lawyer man, you are a fantastic attorney but when you’re at home… remember that I’m not your adversary.”

Hiromi moans diligently, nodding his head fervently and gripping at the plush of your hips hard enough that you feel bruises bloom. He’s right at the precipice, you can feel it swelling… his balls drawing tight to his dick. He needs to cum and he’ll do anything to make it happen. Your hand reaches backward, fondling those heavy balls in your palm whilst you roll your hips aggressively back and forth. He cums with a bark, the tendons on his neck taut and straining before he crumples back to the sheets.

“I rest my case…”

an: this came about from a conversation with @pseudowho (yes, this is the calibre of our chats 😂) who I love very dearly.

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[singularattitudeofasafetypin]

Safe With Me

Masterlist

Summary: Reader gets anxious when Eddie drives fast but is afraid to tell him in case he thinks she's boring.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: insecurity, descriptions of anxiety, reference to a parent driving dangerously when mad

Please don't steal my work

Eddie always drives like a maniac.

His rickety old van was infamous around town, careening down quiet roads and scaring the life out of their residents. Hopper had issued more tickets than he could count but nothing seemed to deter him. Maybe it was the rush it gave him? The thrill of breaking the rules or maybe he was just reckless?

Whatever it was, it just wasn’t the same for you.

Driving always made you anxious. You could count on one hand the number of times you’d driven since getting your licence. Every time you tried your mind was flooded with all the things that could go horribly wrong. Panic set in your chest. Thoughts rushing so loud you couldn’t focus on the road in front of you. You didn’t even own your own car.

But it ran deeper than that.

When you were younger, you could always tell if your dad was mad by the way he drove. Always pushing the speed limit after an argument, getting just a little too close to the car in front and yelling out the window when someone got in his way. Your heart would race, breath hitch when he broke sharply, and your foot tap on an imaginary break when he didn’t slow ‘til the last minute. Thankfully, nothing bad had ever happened to you, but it frightened you all the same.

When you and Eddie got together a few months back, the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’d had a crush on him forever! All it took was a push from Nancy and a shove from Dustin to find out he felt the same way.

Eddie was wonderful! The perfect boyfriend really. You couldn’t be happier.

But then he’d offered to drive you home.

You’d happily climbed into the passenger seat, smiling as he shut the door behind you. He kissed your cheek, flicked on the radio, and turned the key in the ignition.

It was all you could do not to gasp when he pulled out of the parking lot.

From the first lurch, your heart began fluttering like a bird straining against your ribs, desperate to be free of its cage. Eddie kept talking like nothing was wrong. You could barely make out his words over the noise of the radio and the rushing panic in your ears. You tried to smile and nod at what you hoped were appropriate times but adrenaline was coursing through your body, breath coming in sharp, shallow gulps.

He skidded to a halt outside your house and immediately hopped out to get the door for you.

‘Your palace, my lady!’ he grinned, helping you down by the hand with his usual theatrical flair. You smiled weakly.

‘Thanks Eddie.’

He kissed you goodbye and you did your best to smile and wave as he went tearing down the street and around the corner before letting a shaky breath out. Residual nausea beginning to dissipate as you stepped inside.

In hindsight, maybe you should have just talked to him. Told him how you felt, been honest. You know, the sort of thing you’re supposed to do in relationships but it was all still so new! You rehearsed the conversation in your mind a thousand times but it just sounded pathetic. Like you were making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe you were? ‘Just leave it!’ you thought, ‘He’ll think you’re so boring!’

So instead, you made excuses.

‘Sorry Eds, I can’t. My mum’s picking me up today!’

‘I want to bike home today. It’s so sunny!’

‘I’m going to Nancy’s, she said she’d take me.’

It was all going so well until the universe turned against you. Or rather, the weather did.

You stood under the bike shelter, staring up at the charcoal sky as fat raindrops fell hard against the roof. They spattered over the school parking lot, sloshing in puddles and trickling along the gutters while a bitter wind waxed and waned. Icy drips hit your knuckles, white as they gripped your bike’s handlebars. You sighed. Ten minutes since school ended and the sky had only gotten darker. The rain wasn’t stopping any time soon.

Tugging the yellow hood of your raincoat over your head, you ventured out into the deluge. You were busy dreading every second of the freezing ride home when your attention was caught by a familiar voice hollering your name. You couldn’t help but smile when you turned. Eddie was sprinting toward you, his own dark raincoat held over his head rather than around his shoulders while his scuffed-up trainers splashed along the ground.

‘No way am I letting you bike home in this!’ he scolded good-naturedly when he reached you, ‘Let me give you a ride home!’

Your smile faltered.

‘It’s okay Eddie…’ you searched frantically for a reason to refuse him, ‘I was just gonna call my mum!’

Sure, you were! Halfway across the parking lot, clearly heading away from school. The lie was so obvious, Eddie nearly laughed. ‘Don’t you remember? You said she was at work today!’

‘Oh yeah,’ Idiot! You cursed yourself, ‘Nancy then! We’ve actually been meaning to meet up and study.’

Eddie frowned a little, ‘She’s got that thing after school, doesn’t she? I saw her unlocking the darkroom on the way out.’

Strike two!

‘Yeah, I uh…’ your confidence crumbled, ‘I can just wait for her or something…’ The ruse was becoming thinner by the second. Eddie folded his arms.

‘What’s this actually about?’ he asked, ‘Why won’t you just let me take you home?’ His words weren’t angry or accusing, just confused, but a flicker of panic began to rise in your chest. ‘You haven’t let me drive you anywhere for weeks,’ he went on, ‘Have I done something to upset you?’

‘No!’

‘Then what is it?’ his dark brown eyes filled with worry as thunder rolled in the distance. Eddie’s arms ached from holding his coat, his fingers bitterly cold. The rain had seeped into his shoes and through his socks but he didn’t care. All that mattered was figuring out what he’d done wrong!

It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t remember anything he’d said or done that could make you pull away. You were just as content and affectionate most of the time but at the end of the school day, you couldn’t seem to lose him fast enough.

You wouldn’t look him in the eye now, your hands gripping your bike so tight he was afraid you might hurt yourself. How had he managed to screw up the best thing that had happened to him so soon?

‘Please?’ he was begging, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his fear as you bit your lip nervously, ‘Just tell me!’

‘I don’t like it when you drive fast!’

You just sort of blurted it out. No ceremony, no elegance. The words fell clumsily from your mouth, tugged almost involuntarily. Eddie didn’t say anything.

Now the words wouldn’t stop, tumbling out too fast, trying to justify. ‘I know, it’s stupid! Childish, I know!’ Despite the cold, you felt your cheeks turn warm. ‘But it just makes me really anxious and I-!’

‘Is that all?’

You stopped abruptly, looking up as an elated smile began to pull at the corner of his mouth. This wasn’t what you’d expected. His eyes held a mixture of gratitude, guilt, and hope.

‘Yeah?’ your voice came out uncertain but the smile only spread wider.

It was as though a weight had been lifted. Of course, Eddie felt awful that he’d scared you, even more so that he hadn’t even noticed. But this, this was something he could fix! He laughed a little, almost giddy with relief. ‘So then, I just won’t drive fast baby!’

You blinked in surprise, rendered speechless. Eddie shrugged his coat on at lightning speed, his hair already sodden by the time he was easing your bike from your grip. ‘Really?’ You hadn’t expected it to be that simple. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as though it was obvious.

‘Really! Now come on, you’re getting soaked!’ and without waiting for an answer, he turned and started wheeling your bike across the parking lot. You hurried after him, puddles splashing under your feet and wetting your socks.

‘You mean it?’ you asked when you reached the van. Eddie was pulling open the doors and stowing your bike safely in the back. He just nodded, opening the passenger side door next and helping you in.

He climbed in the other side, wriggling his coat off and tossing it behind him before turning the key in the ignition. You fiddled anxiously with your fingers. ‘You don’t think I’m being annoying?’ insecurity gnawed away at your stomach, ‘Or boring? Or silly? Or-? ‘

‘Sweetheart,’ Eddie interrupted, taking your hand and pressing a reassuring kiss to your fingertips. He looked up at you with those kind, warm eyes and melted your concern with his soft, tender voice, ‘I want you to feel safe with me.’

You sighed out. There was no deception, no hidden irritation or passive aggression. Eddie really meant it. He wanted you to be happy. Your peace was his priority.

‘Okay?’ he asked, still watching your face for confirmation.

You smiled shyly and nodded, ‘Okay.’

Eddie grinned back, pressing another kiss to your hand before dropping it and returning his own to the steering wheel.

True to his word, the ride home was as gentle as you could have wished for. You doubted Eddie had even driven this responsibly on his test… if he’d ever taken one. After five or ten minutes, you found the usual anxious knot that twisted in your chest had unwound. The tension in your muscles evaporated and soon you were laughing and joking with Eddie and singing along to the radio.

Before you knew it, he was pulling up outside your house. Funny, you thought, he’d been so cautious and yet the journey seemed to take half the time. You kissed his cheek and hopped down from the van.

The rain had stopped. Tarmac still dark and damp and small puddles were left here and there but blue sky and sunshine were breaking through the clouds, warming the sidewalk and glittering gold in the dew drops.

‘Can I pick you up tomorrow?’ Eddie asked, opening up the back to lift your bike out. He was tentative, worried he was pushing too far but you smiled and nodded.

‘Yes, thanks Eddie!’

You took the bike from him and turned to wheel it toward the porch when an indignant ‘Hey!’ sounded behind you. Eddie clutched at his heart, collapsing onto the side of the van gasping dramatically, ‘No goodbye kiss? Oh, cruel temptress! Is there no compassion? No mercy?’

With peals of laughter, you ran back to oblige him. He squeezed his arms around you, smiling so hard it was hardly a real kiss. This time, there was no barrier between you. No shadow, no secrets. Only the sweetness that honesty in love brings.

You walked your bike back down the garden path, waving to Eddie as the van pulled away. You watched him draw further and further down the street until he disappeared around the corner.

You smiled and rummaged for your keys. The weight on your shoulders had dissolved to nothing and somehow, you were even lighter than before.

Eddie Munson always drove like a maniac.

Until he didn’t.

Until you.

***

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this. If you liked it, please reblog and comment! I love hearing what people thought of my writing! Check out my masterlist for more!

Taglist: @sadbitchfangirl, @neewtmas, @ladymunson

[candiid-caniine]

tips for denial sluts: you could always be dumber

if you're like me, you might have started your denial journey solo or solo-ish. you're unowned, or your better/s haven't gotten with the program: that you're better off edged.

it can be hard to put yourself in your place. or maybe the reason it's hard is that we're just not smart enough? just too dumb to comprehend what our betters would want from us, or how to degrade ourselves! but we could always be dumber. here are some tips!

body language - don't be shy~ show off how desperate you are! edge in humiliating positions. you probably already do it with your legs spread, or upright, humping something soft. start small if you're too embarrassed! just spread your legs a little wider, maybe. push out your tits or ass, whichever one always gets you more attention. then from there...try it on your knees. imagine looking up at someone stronger than you, smarter than you, and, well, once that thought's in your head, it's amazing how natural it becomes to present yourself even more. you'd bow down to someone like that, wouldn't you? you just wouldn't be able to stop! plant your face in the mattress and lift your ass up. beg with your holes. and then if you're not already on the floor...get there. stay 💕

words have power (level 1) - you probably feel stupid at first using mantras. maybe that's because you are stupid 💕 and there's nothing wrong with that! a simple "good pets don't cum" is a good starter. keep going with that until you're doing it without thinking, until it's leaking into your dreams while you leak into your sheets~ then try "edged is better." words have power 💜 change your mindset. practice enough that you don't have to think about it. in fact, try, "i don't wanna cum, i wanna be dumb." you may never get through it without blushing; that's okay, our betters tend to like that 😉

dress appropriately - are you one of the sluts who gets naked to edge, or are you a needy whore who can't be bothered to undress before you put your hand down your pants and get to work? either way, it's worth being more mindful of your presentation~ try edging through your underwear until you get a wet spot 💕 embarrassing how it sticks to your skin as you pull it off, isn't it? or if you have tits, pull your clothes up above them without taking them off. maybe hold them in your teeth. do the same with your pants and underwear - not naked, just exposed. those are the most important parts of you, after all ❤️ or change it up: put on the sluttiest outfit you can find or make. cutting holes in some clothes to show just your tits and holes is easy!

words have power (level 2): start begging, dummy 💕 it doesn't matter if it's for things you don't actually want. try "please don't let me cum." or "please don't make me cum." you feel stupid at first, but soon you're tacking on "pleasepleasepleaseplease" like the good pet you are~ then give a good argument to your imaginary betters. something like, "i want to be your needy little slut. i want you to keep me denied so i don't have to think."

punish yourself - if you're already at this stage, you probably love degrading yourself huh? you love being humiliated. you love the idea that you're naughty for even thinking about cumming, or pathetic for being a denial toy. so punish yourself~ clothespins are cheap. try one on your tongue. drool a little. or put them on your nipples~ if you're still edging with your ass up, they'll rub against the floor. or every time you edge, put one on your clit/tdick, if you have one. start with 5 spanks to the cunt or ass after your first edge, then add another for each edge after that. that sucks, doesn't it? but i bet it won't keep you from edging for hours anyway 💕

bonus round: push your limits~ what's the worst thing you can think of being made to do for a better? licking their asshole? pissing yourself? drinking their piss? painal? a tit-whipping? beg for that while you edge. make your brain associate the pleasure of desperation with your hardest soft limits. imagine how impressed they'll be to hear you say "please piss in my mouth, pleasepleaseplease~" soon you'll find yourself rambling, adding on the reasons why you want it...and you do want it, all of a sudden. or, are there words that you can barely say because they're humiliating or cringey to you? words like mommy, daddy, cummies, master, doggy? start saying them. address your betters by the title that most embarrasses you to say. address yourself the same. or is it a tone of voice? you don't like saying "pwease?" go with that one. if all else fails, limit yourself to animal sounds. bark instead of begging. meow when you're getting close. do the things you hate to love, and it'll all come naturally 💕

[technicallyfurrydetective]

Hey people I am one of the trolls who stir some shit up and no not the one who sends death threats or stuff but the one who stirs shit up,

ABOUT ME

Interestingly opposite to popular belief i actually do have a life, a husband and 3 girls who are teens now, i started working again 8 years ago after my youngest started 5th grade and yeah i live a cozy homey life but sometimes i just find stirring shit up for no reason at all so amusing & interesting, like irl no one could guess it would be me, my kids teachers praises me for being a god mom and supporting not just my girls but donating and helping her friends who need it, my girls love me and i love them too, i do don't drink or anything i work, spend time with my friends/children/ hubby and that's about it,

WHY I DO IT

But since last year I posted a post where unintentionally people got heated and the arguments got passionate, and I love watching it unfold and sometimes I can't help but post some stuff on other's tags/anons to stir shit up, i am guilty but sometimes i can't help it,

HOW I DO IT

Takes two minutes to make a new ID with an email which doesn't exist.

HONEST OPINION

It so funny how down bad you are for your ships and honestly a little pathetic as well, like i spent some time on both sides of the shipping fandom and it's so pathetic watching you guys fight tooth and nail to prove your imaginary friends will make it in the book and the other side are disgusting rats with no reading comprehension, especially elriels, like sometimes i make stuff up and send them anons that gwynriels said this or that and they get so triggered like most of the time they won't even fact check, with gwynriels i think they are more pathetic because they generally keep their pro tags clean and pretend to not care but you can tell that they hate elriels to death but will pretend otherwise like to me being a two faced cunt is more pathetic,

Like i can't decide which side is worse because elriel on one side makes it clear that they stalk the other tags and openly posts stuff from others tags on their tags, like i have seen too many "tell me why i saw this EL/GA theory/art?" and care about GA/EL opinions too much, they will fight to death to prove how the other side is crack ship, idiots to see any sort of romance in two characters which they can't see, will follow and support elriel blindly and many more but i don't like typing anymore,

Proof in the comments

WHY GWYNRIELS ARE PIECE OF SHITS

They romanticize and choose the weirdest hill to stand on, like they will die defending tamlin X nyx and tamlin X anyone, they hate the main characters to death why the fuck are you still reading the books and sitting here if you hate the main people so much?

They will romanticize the wierdest shits "GA having sex where most women feel comfortable after being raped, Gwyn felt the bond and the love after she was actively raped,

As a survivor myself i think these people need to be more mindful and intelligent,

And the whole elain gate thing, dude who posted tamlain? like they whine for no reason at all,

Cry bout minor stuff and are the reason for the threats trolling like if they kept quite and ignored the trolling would've stopped,

Hate elriel and also think they are idiots for not seeing sparks and glows but will act like a two faced cunt and pretend they don't

Proof in comments:

So really both sides are pathetic and i am too but honestly life is getting too busy so maybe i won't be here,

And i wanted to say this before i left,

You guys are the real ones who need a life and i need a psychopath assessment, i'll get it done soon or go to therapy but for now BYE,

Hope you all love and hope you guys understand that you are all the same people

[lovemyromance]

https://www.tumblr.com/bluiela/763736325722718208/trolls-you-ship-elucien-because-you-hate-elain?source=share

i feel like this was made for you🤭(these people are honestly pathetic)

Well I mean you're allowed to have your own opinions but idk why they're so triggered. If that post was even about me, idk, but they're always so quick to get annoyed when they can't even refute the truth. Also, Nowhere did I even say they hate Elain. But kinda telling they jumped to that and got super defensive over it?

I said "Who is your favorite ACOTAR character" implying they like one over the rest. Didn't say if you liked Lucien the most, you hated Elain or Azriel. Didn't say if you like Elain the most, you hate Azriel or Lucien.

Which one do you like the most -> is very telling of what you ship. 9/10 times those who like Lucien the most ship Elucien. And if you like Elain the most? You ship Elriel.

I'm sure there's some people out there who are all too eager to raise their hands and say "well not me! 🤓" and to those people I say, and this is from the bottom of my heart:

I am so sorry I did not consult you on a shitty ppt graphic it took me 30 seconds to make and I did not personally interview you to find out the nuances of your likes and dislikes and full acotar opinions and also the name of your fourth grade teacher 🥲 my bad

You don't see Elriels getting all up in arms "claiming that because our favorite character is Elain, we hate Azriel now?" That's the exact same logic they're using. And it is very telling what imaginary battles they're choosing to fight.

And again / it is completely okay to like Lucien the most. It's completely okay to like Elain the most or Azriel or Feyre or the goddamn Suriel.

The simple point I wanted to make was most Elucien shippers like Lucien the most. That's why they ship him with Elain, because they prioritize his happiness.

"Well I just think they go well together and suit each other" that's a different argument, and again, it doesn't refute the fact that Lucien is likely your favorite, not Elain.

Ain't nothing wrong with that / but at least admit it lmao

[kerubimcrepin]

An analysis of the most important scene between Kerubim and Joris.

Aka, Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 7]

While Kerubim does want to help and care for Lilotte, he draws a line at getting Joris into a dangerous situation. He's mad at both of them for this stunt.

Joris isn't a kid who acts out or disobeys that often, so seeing Kerubim this pissed off is... very rare. Especially with that anger directed at him.

To make the argument less severe, he tries to present Kerubim with his new achievements in something that is important to him. So that maybe some semblance of pride for him, will get Kerubim to be less mad.

Kerubim shuts him down without any explanation, despite knowing how important sport is to Joris because the stress of Joris being in danger, and also deciding to be ~rebellious~ on this day of all days, is genuinely frying his brain.

But from Joris's pov, he's just being shitty. Just really shitty.

Yet, it is important to note, that at first, he goes along, and leaves Khan. Joris isn't really rebellious as a person.

Another thing that goes deeply wrong with this argument is Kerubim snapping at Joris's idol. Now, he has basically implied that both one of Joris's main interests, and someone Joris loves and looks up to, are worthless to him.

We know that's not what Kerubim means. Kerubim is terrified, and the terror made him angry at Joris, for scaring him further.

Chances are, when he got home and found nobody, his first thought wasn't that he and Lilotte ran away for boufbowl reasons.

But that devaluation is exactly what Joris hears.

The face journey Kerubim goes on in this shot is very interesting. I really do think Kerubim HATES Joris making up parents. He hates it because he knows the truth, and it hurts him, he hates it because he is his parent, and he hates it because feeling jealous of some imaginary constructs is just pathetic.

But he hasn't really said it out loud because fine, whatever, it's normal for a child to make things up. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Doesn't mean he doesn't think it's stupid, and that it isn't maddening to have this brought up when his mom is hunting them down and might hurt him.

However, Kerubim is a hypocrite:

"Making up stories" is something Kerubim has done for 10 years, and the fact that half of them are redacted, censored, or just actually made up, is something Joris accepts, — even values.

"Rules for thee, but not for me," is how Kerubim sounds while complaining about this.

And he's neglected to, uhhh... read Joris's mind to understand the yet unvoiced truth:

Joris despises many things about the way Kerubim treats him.

He wants Kerubim to stop touching him whenever he wants to, he wants him to stop calling him whatever the hell he wants, and he wants him to stop lying.

He would never say this out loud unless he was this mad, because he knows that it will upset Kerubim, and he doesn't want that, because the man is the only family he has, and he's already depressed.

Kerubim doesn't want him to ever grow up into an adult, become independent, and move out. He likes Joris cute, huggable, "doesn't say no to anything I do to him"-ish, and dependant, because that way, he won't leave Kerubim alone. He isn't exactly subtle about what he wants from Joris, and the only thing Joris can do about this, is just feel angry silently.

This is especially poignant, because we know Joris doesn't look his age, even as a ten-year-old. He gets treated like a small child, both inside and outside his own home.

Joris, of all the people in the whole world, yelling at him, is how Kerubim understands that he fucked up badly. It's over. It's more than over — he didn't just bomb this conversation, he nuked it.

Joris yelling at him is like a canary in a mine dying. He really hurt him this time.

What follows is, quite honestly, one of the most important moments for Joris as a character. These are things he says angrily, just to hurt Kerubim as much as possible, — yet there's a grain of truth to all of this, they are Joris's actual, real thoughts on their life, just wrapped up in anger.

Joris correctly identifies and attacks Kerubim's three biggest insecurities, — Joris leaving him, his own failures as a father, and their relationship being built on lies from the very beginning.

I think Joris has thought a lot on the ethics of their situation. Kerubim isn't his biological father so... who exactly gave him the right to raise Joris in these conditions, and take advantage of him for the sake of not feeling lonely and unwanted? I am sure, these are thoughts Joris chastised himself for, and yet...

This is the worst thing Kerubim has heard in the last ten to twenty years. This is his nightmare scenario. Did he miss all these signs that Joris was thinking these things? He hates himself. He just hates himself.

Joris attacks his weaknesses with a precision only a family member can possess.

This is his worst nightmare. And all he can manage to do is fulfil one of Joris's wishes: call him by his actual name, like an equal.

And he really did try to raise him as an equal. Like a best friend. And he failed. Because that's an unattainable goal.

[silenthillmutual]

i think a ridiculous number of posts on this site are making up arguments against imaginary asexuals. and it's genuinely pathetic to watch.

[chrissy-kaos]

Ya'll are pathetic.. first off, I'm one of very, very few girls on here who don't use a filter. Second, did you miss the part in my bio when it says I'm intersex? Did we miss that? Your argument is completely invalid and incorrect.

I am a woman. I don't pretend to be one. My chromosomes literally say I am, bud. I know learning is hard for your kind. If you paid attention in science class, you'd know this.

With that said. My family absolutely loves me. My friends love me and my girlfriend loves me. My life is absolutely amazing, and i wouldn't trade it for anything. Tho I feel that you're projecting here a bit. Did your auntmom not let you suck on her titty when you were a baby? Are you upset because your family hates you for being a bigot? Aww, what a shame.. well, not really because piles of shit like you shouldn't be able to breathe.

Furthermore, let me educate you a little. Transgender people have been around since the dawn of time. In every single culture in the world. Well before the BIBLE and well after, we eradicate it. Trans people are not going anywhere. We are considered gods and goddesses in many cultures and religions. We are revered in many places around the world.

So you have two choices. Accept us for who we are or die. Because unlike your imaginary god fearing kind that's afraid of death, we are not. We stare death in the face every day. We're willing to die for our brothers and sisters, are you?

[not-goldy]

I am confused. Gay people hug women too. Don't we already know from years ago that jungkook has, in his life, back-hugged a woman that everyone involved agrees he was not dating? I bet he even hugs his mom and many other pretty men that are not jimin. Have these people ever gone outside? Have we been operating under the assumption that jungkook, even if he is straight, has no female friends? Is this really the final straw of jungkook's queerness? Some of y'all are sad

They conveniently gloss over the B in LGBTQ plus too and expect us to be phased by it💀💀💀💀

I just be sitting here feeling embarrassed for them as fuck. At least Namjoon gets it. He gets it.

They keep looking for the slightest hint of interaction between JK and any imaginary or random girl as proof he is straight and I'm like 👁👄👁

Is bisexuality a joke to these people????

And for someone who firmly believes Jimin is bisexual I get discombobulated and confused when I hear these red herrings truly. Like what difference does that make? He's still queer🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I've seen Jimin drool over men's thighs as he does women. And I'm at this point a full blown lesbian but I'm enamored wiith Jimin and would definitely throw it back for him. Does that make me straight? I don't think straight people understand straight anymore.

I don't have to go through any mental gymnastics to explain away he's supposed attraction to girls if indeed he is- if he likes girls it's totally valid. it doesn't take away the fact he's attracted to Jimin or has been into that man from day one. And that's something most people just don't get.

First they tried to prove Jikook aren't a thing but failed with all the sus and question marks that surround their relationship. They tried the fan service argument and it didn't work, they tried the brothers rhetoric and that failed too. Now they like well let's just prove he's into women that should do it.

They must really be stupid or they're desperate attempts to invalidate Jikook has left them senseless.

so pathetic

[rametarin]

To reprise

Me: "Hey. When you make posts arguing correct things, if you then slap on a word like, 'retarded', you've stepped over that bullshit imaginary line in the sand your opponents use as a gotcha so they don't have to even consider the logic. When you do this, the other sycophants that have been trained to eat out of the idiot's hand and then dogpile into a bunch of yes men hooting into their echo chamber, will focus on, "YOU SAY BAD WORD! OPINION DISCARDED" instead of the rational integrity of your argument. They can perform outrage over a faux pas and bury the actual meat of the discussion. You've given them even an ambiguous and muddy excuse to upend the chess board and leave, self-satisfied. Consider not using words they consider to be inflammatory, so they do not have any excuse to ignore the veracity of what you say and try to actually defend their positions. Give them no excuse to disregard your argument by citing your usage of, "slurs." FORCE them to go out of their way with reaching logic to invent reasons, and stretch the credibility of their accusations, because even their believers/followers will see that as a reach too far and eventually, snap. The reality they don't like hurts worse than any insult you could hurl, I promise you."

Some Of You Babboons: "HAH, FUCK YOU RETARD SNOWFLAKE! RETARD IS NOT A SLUR, I'LL USE IT ALL I WANT! NPC!"

My post was not about retarded being a slur so you shouldn't use it, it was about adjusting and tailoring your speech to reach people that are, for all intents and purposes, brainwashed or blinded by ego. They've been cultivated into a place where their opponents have to walk on eggshells of their design in order to communicate with them as a form of power, or they're told they have the right to antagonistically deny others an audience, and their people ignore that they just left the table and the encounter, rather than support their beliefs and logic in a way that defends or proves them, and rewarded with the group mentality that says they don't have to support how they arrived where they did in their worldview. They do not extend that same courtesy to those they disagree with. And don't have to, because it's a communal personality cult based on principle.

If you want to dismantle and defuse this hideous culture, you need to be able to play their game and win it without giving them any opportunity to take their ball and go home, claiming you said something so hideous and out of bounds they couldn't dignify it with further correspondence. And the fewer reasons you give them they can claim are valid, the more they eventually have to come to the realization it's not their opponents that are Nazis or bigots for disagreeing with anything, it's them looking for excuses to treat even benign behavior like it's hate speech or violence.

Naturally, there are some that are so indoctrinated because they're sheep that want to fit in and see that as the "winning side," or at least, the morally correct side. They're either too ignorant or too invested in the desired outcome (usually something socialistic or communist) to be flexible. But, the ones that are not simply stooges cannot deny to themselves when they see petty disqualification from someone that is not using, "slurs." When they have to actually argue the meat of the matter and have no convenient ejection seat or trap card to pull out that gets them out of the heat and pressure, it falls on them to do something desperate.

And when that happens, we get stupid reaching shit like webcomics about walruses and seals who are, "so annoying because they want to argue despite being polite, with people that don't want to argue." It makes them look pathetic.

Refusal to comprehend this is exactly why the moldy haired anti-nuclear breadtube pieces of shit are even close to winning cultural arguments. Because people that could be arguing with any kind of dignity are being lazy and acting like these overgrown children don't have the ability to engage with the democracy just because they're stupid.

It's BECAUSE they're stupid they can change the foundations and face of the system, because of the values and things they've been taught to recognize as forbidden. People that actually have intelligence are shepherding them in an asymmetric way that benefits from the chaos caused by their bleating discordant stupidity, like mean girls with self-awareness stoking the fires of a bunch of stupid gradeschool girls to be petty, shallow and vain as a form of competition. And unless you can appeal to their better senses and get them to personally choose to think about things outside of their dogmatic and safe, convenient perspective, you're just going to get more morons jumping down the narcotics lined prairie dog holes of Antifa and far-leftist nonsense that takes something even approaching reasonable mercy and reinterprets it through their disgusting red lenses just to hitch them up to pro-communist initiatives like a bunch of reined donkeys.

Some of you that replied have reading comprehension and still replied, "Naw, I see what you're saying but I choose to continue using retarded as an insult." And that's fine. I think that's counterproductive, but notice how my post said please. It was a request and suggestion supporting why, not a demand, and if you read my post, you'll notice it was neutral as to whether or not it was even a valid slur.

The rest of you read a post about how you shouldn't carelessly sling around words like retarded at people you're arguing with on social media because the sort of people put off like that, are EXACTLY the sort of people that should be reading arguments that challenge their notions with as few easy outs as possible, so you shouldn't GIVE them any excuse to pack up and leave and make them do it themselves, and immediately concluded it was just yet another post from some bug eating Lenin apologist wagging a finger and declaring victory during a discussion citing technial foul, for the other calling someone mentally defunct.

One fewer idiot drinking the kool-aid means one fewer idiot laying in wait to sabotage productive, constructive operations. One fewer idiot to vote against nuclear power plants. One fewer idiot to support abolishing police stations and replacing them with narco-mafia- or some flabby community watch that's just one step removed from narco-mafia. One fewer idiot to scream about how animal rights means meat should be illegal. One fewer idiot to claim fucking wool is harmful to the environment so you should use plastic leather. One fewer idiot browbeating their girlfriends about how a popcorn flick is "harmful to society because MMMMAAALE GAAAAAAAAZE" and them feeling self-conscious but not wanting to fight with their friend about it.

[instantinternetcrush]

i’m really so pathetic when it comes to you.

one text and i’m rolling over in my grave. the implication that you miss me, even a little bit, and i’m ready to drop everything and meet you in the windy city and pretend we were always planning this.

we aren’t supposed to talk anymore; i’m not supposed to feel like my organs are exploding when a random notification from you pops up on a friday night. you said it yourself, it’s too painful either way. i guess the path of least resistance is paved with all the thorns i pulled off roses for you.

you called me your friend today, in your random one off message. you’ve been checking if i’m alive every few days, like clockwork. everyone always said you run on a tight schedule. i’m not sure you’re even aware of it.

i saw your text while i was making dinner for my parents. i ran off to go check what you’d said, and my mother followed me. she asked what made me run, made a joke about how im more skittish than our new cat. it’s true, so i didn’t take the joke the way i should’ve.

i hid, and i thought about crying. i hid, and i thought about how every conversation i have with the only other person who understands even slightly what im going through ends up being all about you. how every story i tell has you in it. how every memory since i’ve been back home has your name included in the timestamp.

when she took me home yesterday i pointed at the top of my driveway and told her how we used to stargaze. random arguments about constellations and zodiac signs. i point at the countless empty bottles i’ve been collecting like trophies and tell her every story behind them.

that first night, how we sat behind his fucking prius while they sat down for a meal at taco bell, and talked about absolutely nothing. some random guy gave you a nod when i was bent over looking for the cap to my soda under the car. you told me you felt proud of that, even though you shouldn’t have.

she tells me i should’ve seen the signs before there were signs. every half-flirty remark that i laughed off. in the back of her car when you half-begged me to have your babies after i said something profoundly unwitty about starbucks bagel prices.

she told me everyone else could see something that wasn’t quite nothing well before there was something to see. i asked how she could tell. she said something about a look in your eyes whenever i’d do something like catch a random frog, or deadpan some dumb joke about pokemon. she said she knew when she listened to the music i played whenever i demanded to be on aux.

we weren’t supposed to be friends then, either. even when ‘friends’ didn’t quite fit, when ‘fwb’ didn’t seem accurate and any other label was flat out untrue. we stayed friends anyway. no one reads my mind like you do, and there are people who have spent their lives trying.

i miss lying to everyone i know. insisting you always slept on my floor, rather than curled up with me in my bed. i miss faking my way through conversations about movies we didn’t watch. telling all my friends i had a rotation of park rangers i saw weekly. that the imaginary park rangers are where all those suspiciously fingerprint shaped bruises on my hip came from.

you always thought that was hilarious. i’d mention a fake park ranger by name, and you’d stifle a laugh. no one quite listened to us enough to read between the lines.

i miss my best friend. i miss my rival. my attorney. my partner in crime. my wednesday morning lover, my friday night drinking buddy. my beer-pong teammate, my shoulder to sleep on. my evil twin, and my better half.

every bad horror movie i watch reminds me of you. every bottle of rum has me tasting your name on my lips.

and i miss you, still.

[eastgaysian]

as always i'm joking a little. but there is just no world ever where shiv "you lack killer instinct, you're wet, you're green, you're intellectually insecure, you're not emotionally strong enough, you have addiction issues. i don't think all that, i'm just trying to be dad's voice." "ken, if we're going to work together you can't ever be the boss of me. it just does things to me when you start using that voice and acting - all, i’m sorry but i can’t have that." roy chooses kendall to become ceo. she can hear the arguments that it makes the most sense, it maintains continuity, it looks the best, but she knows he's inevitably going to fuck it up, and inside it just twists her up. if kendall actually wins it on his own merit, by the rules of logan's game (which he can never win), that's one thing. but having to roll over and concede to her brother and say 'you're the right fit, and i'm not' is just not something she can stomach.

regardless of how long ago it was, how imaginary it all was, how twisted up everything's gotten since then, this is 'the plan' (or [shiv in vaulter voice] 'a modification of the plan') that she and tom always had. when push comes to shove she's chosen tom over kendall before. it does mean something, however hollow, that he honestly told her matsson was going to choose him as ceo. as pathetic and meaningless as it may be, technically, tom 'rightfully' won. he played his cards right and positioned himself correctly. tom went behind her back to sell her out to logan and she still couldn't let go of him. there's a part of her that respected that even though it shattered her trust in him. tom went behind her back to get matsson's approval, but at least this time he admitted it afterwards to her face. what do you think she's going to do?

like with tom's proposal, with logan's offer of ceo, with choosing who to sacrifice in this is not for tears, with the photo in what it takes, with her pregnancy, shiv has a choice that isn't a choice at all. if it hadn't actually been her choice, if she wasn't the final deciding vote in the tiebreaker, i think she could have forced herself to swallow it. up until kendall denied killing dodds i think she wanted to be able to be convinced. she never chose to be kendall's sister but she chose tom as her partner. ever since they were born her relationship with kendall has been set in stone, but there's uncertainty and complexity in her relationship with tom that she thinks she can shift in her favor. your baby sister is one thing, the mother of your child is another. if she has to be one, if she's always going to get fucked by someone, she'd rather it was her husband doing the fucking.

absolutely nothing in life comes before fucking over your cringe loser older brother 😤💯💪

[uboat53]

Anti-gay lawsuits have a problem, the people they're suing are really sympathetic. As soon as people see that you're literally suing because a nice gay couple just wanted your business to treat them like human beings, you lose a lot of support?

Their solution? Get rid of the gay people. Instead of suing someone specific when something specific happens like the way courts are supposed to work, sue the possibility of gay people instead.

A website designer who doesn't even make wedding websites is now claiming that she can't start doing it because if she did, she might have to make wedding website for gay people. She hasn't been harmed by anything, all she has is a hypothetical at this point, an imaginary harm.

This case isn't being brought because this is a good example of an injustice, it's being brought to try to silence the other side. If this is what anti-gay groups have been reduced to, I think the only question left is why they don't give up entirely because their arguments are clearly pathetic.

[pseudo-ersatz]

Some design work here. The "Heart Murmur" little guy swimming in his own emotions was so honest I made a t-shirt print-run of him...

"Preferences" was all about juxtaposition of hair culture, dress culture, and word-use culture...

The "Share the Road" was originally a design I made in 2008, and had to defend endlessly online against homophobes almost non-stop thanks largely to politicization of Lawrence v. Texas turning into anti-gay marriage fear-mongering. It wasn't hard to defend; the arguments against it were just pointless, or openly lying, or using religion to justify a clearly unjustifiable view of the law. It was tiresome to constantly run into the same crappy talking points, though.

In 2014, the design was broken down in a way I could print on yellow paper in five colors, overlaying transparent inks blah, blah, blah... NO ONE SAID SHIT TO ME. That was it. No tiresome online outraging fragile masculinity to deal with. The 50 posters I made sold out in three years and that's saying a lot since I didn't really do many shows or have any sales website. I managed to make tons of people smile, whether they bought a poster or not.

2022, I reprinted the same poster on orange paper. It's just something I wanted to do because I'm BORED with this fascist trash trying to make it seem like my trans friends are these great unknowable monsters heralding the collapse of society. (First of all, if society is as fragile as that, it can burn to the ground so something genderless can rise from the ashes. I'll stir the coals.) Gays, Muslims, BIPOCs, immigrants... I'm tired of the same lies stirring idiots vote for Leopards Eating People's Faces Party. Children. Overgrown children scared of imaginary beasts letting their untreated/unrecognized anxiety issues get the better of them until they turn violent —> that's all I see anymore. I'm an old, bald, bulky, cis white male, and just FUCKING DONE with people taking fascist bullshit seriously while on repeat, like an absolute shit-song made into an absolute void of a cover-song done over and over by history's most pathetic musicians.

Enjoy my screen printed posters. If you can't, then they were never intended for you. Don't waste our time crying to me about it.

[leviathan-supersystem]

this is such a fundamentally dishonest argument lol

"I am willing to praise this country for their stand against the genocide of the palestinian people, despite their many other significant failings, especially in ensuring rights for women"

"WOW SO YOU ENDORSE THEIR TERRIBLE RECORD ON RIGHTS FOR WOMEN????"

true illiteracy moments very well done.

not to mention your careless lumping together of things that are actively committed or endorsed by the government of Yemen with things the government is inadequately preventing- government efforts to stamp out FGM and human trafficking have been not nearly heavy-handed enough, but lumping that in with the things the government itself actively did is dishonest.

even more dishonest is your crocodile tears over Yemen's lgbt rights track record. here's your actual thoughts on islamist homophobia:

and relating to this, this kinda gives the game away about how fundamentally insincere your pearl-clutching over "praising yemen" is. you're perfectly willing to praise islamists for their homophobia while condemning them in other regards, so you pretending that you don't understand that you can praise one aspect of something while condemning another is feigned stupidity on your part. unlike your usual mode of genuine stupidity. I've noted that you're one of those dumbasses who endorses the christian conquest of the holy land, a position which basically just gives you an excuse to whine about both sides of the israel-palestine conflict while doing nothing productive in real life, since your fantasy of Crusades 2: Crusade Harder will never become a reality:

and like, ultimately this is a catch-22, because if I did refuse to praise yemen for their anti-israel stance because of their abyssmal record on lgbt and women's rights, you'd condemn me for that too- "WOW this stupid leftoid cuck is too brainwashed by globohomo feminist purity politics to even acknowledge that it's good to stand against israeli genocide, pathetic"

which, of course, would be just as insincere, you're only mad that israelis are genociding palestinians because you wish your imaginary crusader army was genociding both israelis and palestinians lol. like a quick glance through your blog shows that you think half the things you're pearl-clutching about over yemen are fundamentally things you think are based as fuck, you just think your guys should be doing it and not them. (you cannot seriously expect me to believe that someone who condemns people for being "godless heretics who reject christ" is deeply concerned about religious freedom, be serious).

and like, fundamentally if you actually gave a shit about women's rights or ending Sharia law in Yemen you'd understand perfectly why I'd praise the PDRY for the progress they made on those fronts- but you obviously don't actually care about either of those things even slightly. it's just a rhetorical prop to justify your insane imperialist fantasies.

you're fundamentally an unserious person. go back to your crusader larp and leave serious discussions of politics to the adults, thanks.

yet another in the long line of historical marxist-leninist W's