#read it and weep losers

[thissying]

Max interview (done during the Austrian GP weekend), Dutch Grand Prix Special 2024, Formule1 magazine

Recently you reacted fiercely to all sorts of accusations towards your girlfriend on social media. Did you think it was necessary? "Yes. When you see what can be done and adjusted with AI and fake messages that seem so real these days... I think it's bizarre how far that goes and that there are people who have it in them to do those things. The fact that it even started influencing her work... you know, that's really extreme. And at some point you're just done with people doing that. I've always been someone who says: ignore, ignore, ignore and don't pay any attention to it any more. But at some point you can't ignore it any longer because how far people go, will get completely out of control."

That does make you mad? "How evil people can be is really extreme. Some are, I think, just very jealous, generally speaking. Maybe it has something to do with that. Jealousy, resentment: those kind of things."

Do you notice this in other things as well? "Right now it has to do more with the relationship and especially geared towards Kelly. But it's not just us, you know? It happens to other people in the paddock. I'm very much about letting things go: if you don't pay attention to it, it will just fade away. But some people just won't stop."

You yourself are not very active on social media? "No. And when I don't like something I'll press 'ignore' so it won't show up on my feed any more, you know. I'm fairly easy about it all but there is a limit."

[doctorweebmd]

a really nice comment on 'nothing else fills' made me actually reread it for like, the first time in its entirety and.

wow. its... actually really good. like. i teared up multiple times and i'm the one that wrote it. why was i so mean to myself about it.

[diresang]

            ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅 ✦․⁺  ↳ @discoinfernos

husk's watching angel with saddened eyes. he doesn't move from his spot from behind the bar, let his confession sink in. because it was true━ somehow, he had fallen into the web that was caring for angel. he didn't want angel for any of the reasons he expected━ shocking for a man who's sin was greed, perhaps his shackles had beaten him down so much he couldn't find himself wanting for reasons like that anymore.

maybe it was because he knew damn well no one wanted to just be angel's friend. maybe it was because he was shackled down just as he was, and he knew at least how that felt. but it was so painfully true━ husk just wanted to be angel's friend. and he wouldn't take that back, even as he watched in almost real time as angel pushed him further away.

            ❝ you're still acting. ❞ husk commented plainly, but he doesn't push it further, doesn't explain himself. he should've expected his words not to be taken well, not with angel so far gone in his own lack of self-esteem.

            ❝ don't want me to be your friend ? that's fine. just can't say i didn't try. ❞ its clear husk's own walls were coming back up. he was too vulnerable too long for comfort, and his vulnerability wasn't being taken well anyways. no reason to keep them down any longer. even so, his tail and wings hung low and ears pressed back as he attempted to turn his attention back to cleaning.

[morgan5451]

[the-bi-library]

As bisexual visibility month approaches us, I wanted to highlight a few bi books we don't see people talking about much and give people some recs for bi books to read!

Books listed:

Fall Into You by Georgina Kiersten

Splinter by Jasper Hyde

Spring on the Peninsula by Ery Shin

When Tara Met Farah by Tara Pammi

Forever Is Now by Mariama J. Lockington

More to Love by Georgina Kiersten

When the Stars Alight by Camilla Andrew

Lulu Sinagtala and the City of Noble Warriors by Gail D. Villanueva

No Two Ways by Chi Yu

Exposing Lesser Demons by K.N. Robertson

Wolfpack by Rem Wigmore

A Dance of Water and Air by Antonia Aquilante

Hugged by Verity Ritchie

Where Willows Weep by Luna Fiore

Fake it by Lily Seabrooke

Small Gods of Calamity by Sam Kyung Yoo

Beyond Repair by Catherine Stein

Baptism of Fire by Jessie Thomas

Poisoned Primrose by Dahlia Donovan

Birthright by M.A. Vice

A Masc for Purim by Roz Alexander

Your Driver is Waiting by Priya Guns

Errant by L.K. Fleet

Loser of the Year by Carrie Byrd

Fortune Favors the Dead by Stephen Spotswood

Monstersona by Chloe Spencer

Scoring a Spouse by Liz Lincoln

Tengoku by Rae D. Magdon

Leaving's Not the Only Way to Go by Kay Acker

Speech and Debacles by Heather DiAngelis

Things I'll Never Say by Cassandra Newbould

Chameleon Moon by RoAnna Sylver

Allure by CEON

To Beg or Not to Beg by Cat Giraldo

Shadows Dark and Deadly by Andrea Marie Johnson

Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis

Dearly Departed by Heather Novak

Swift and Sudden Exit by Nico Vincenty

Wishing on Winter by Brenna Bailey

Crystrals and Contracts by A. A. Fairview

Tomb of Heart and Shadow by Cara N. Delaney

False Hearts and Broken Frets by Elle Bennett

The Blood Born Dragon by J. C. Rycroft

An Act of Devotion by A. M. Leibowitz

Biting down by Torrance Sené

[konigsblog]

loser König calls his darling mommy while they have sex

cw: mommy issues, mommy kink, könig is aged between his mid-twenties to late-twenties, reader's age is unspecified but thought to be older. MDNI 18+

it's such a könig thing to do. he has mommy issues from never being able to spend time with her due to her always working just to afford to put food on the table. he yearns for affection that an older woman could bring, or at least someone that will accept being called ‘mommy’ during sex.

perhaps he's a couple years into the military, in his mid-twenties to late-twenties. he finds himself drooling over the older woman who works at the library, who spends her time reading up on different books and novels, while könig jerks off to pornhub on the computers. he has a computer at home, he just enjoys the thrill and anticipation of being caught by you, or being scolded, shamed, and punished.

i mean, of course you notice his sickening behaviour, how could you not notice the way he stares at you creepily the entire time with his weeping dick underneath the table, biting his bottom lip to suppress the sounds of his depravity? eventually at some point, he finally convinces you to bend over and let him have a quickie with you, with the promise he'll no longer jerk off publicly in your library.

you accept the deal, bending over and allowing könig to rut his throbbing, large cock into your slicken hole. he chants breathless prayers for more, calling you ‘mommy’ the entire duration, your cunt swollen from his brutal pace, swallowing his inches greedily as he whines and growls.

although instead of jerking off like he promised not to do, you've just become his sex doll and the one he goes to for pleasure, guilt tripping you into giving yourself over every time.

or instead of reader being a librarian, perhaps you meet in a chatroom. you get talking, and immediately könig is very blunt with you, that he wants to call you ‘mommy’ while you whisper filthy words in his ears. shivers run down his spine as his hung cock throbs at the sound of your quiet, hushed, and sultry voice. :(

[yuwuta]

Is childhood friends to lovers with Satoru valid? ‼️

Fav trope tbh

ALWAYS VALID!!! best trope imo….. so many ways this could go with him……

one of the best things about a non-curse childhood friends to lovers au with satoru is the ability to explore the fact that he’s actually a genius and absolutely a loser, just a handsome and charming one so people overlook his loser-ish tendencies/he’s the nerd that makes being a nerd cool.... by all metrics you’re more “popular” than satoru is. you’re not a mathlete, you’re not in the chemistry club, you don’t make nationals at chess or judo, and you don’t spend your afternoons burying your head in a gameboy playing digimon; plus, you’re not nearly as insufferable as he is when it comes to interacting with other people. this doesn’t make satoru feel bad in any way, he always says he has to surround himself with the best people, and you’re proof of that; you’re pretty and smart and students and teachers like you and you’re his best friend—you’re proof that satoru is incredible. 

he blames you for why he ends up being so needy. you’re the one that stuck by him even when he was causing problems or starting fights or picking on smaller kids (his growth spurt is really. not good for anyone), you’re the one who pinched his ear and jabbed his side and told him to get his head out of his ass and made sure he wasn’t completely unbearable. you’re the one who remembered to bring a portable charger for his gameboy when you guys took trips into the city for the day, and you’re the one who kept playing for him when he was mid-battle but really had to use the bathroom. you’re the one who always answered his calls at ass o’clock in the morning when he needed to ramble about whatever, or couldn’t sleep, or was begging you to let him drag you downtown to some niche pop-up store opening because, “you don’t get it they’re releasing limited edition flavors of their best selling mochi! we HAVE to be in line three hours before hand if we want to get any!” he was supposed to just be a regular old loser, but you came along and gave him standards and friendship and intimacy and now you must reap what you’ve sewn, he is your responsibility now.

satoru doesn’t realize just how much you’ve spoiled him until college/grad school, when he thinks other people wanna hear him nerd out about his shows or games or hobbies and they only endure it because he’s ridiculously beautiful. he’s kinda slow to this pattern at first, but once he catches it, he flops onto your bed, lamenting about how his beauty is blinding and you see the true him. you tease him about how he’s technically admitting that you see him as ugly, and he borderline starts crying and weeping, and honestly he likes to mess with you, but he doesn’t know why he needs to hear you admit that he’s handsome out loud, but he doesn’t let it go until you’re laughing and giving up, “okay, okay, i’m kidding satoru. you’re a very pretty princess and your suitors should want your hand for your personality, too.” and if you thought satoru wasn’t normal before that, you were wrong; something in him short circuits that day and it takes him approximately three-business weeks of ruminating and pouting and running equations in his head and reading research papers on emotions and the brain and attraction and it doesn’t come to him until he’s in the middle of his lecture, and he stops spinning his pencil so abruptly and breaks it in half and says to himself, out loud, “i’m in LOVE with her??” true loser lover behavior. 

[overjoyedisland]

Fluffy Fourth Wing Fics

Sometimes you just need to read something happy...

Here's a list of completed, feel-good fics (no angst allowed).

I'll be adding to this throughout the day. What am I missing?

The Backup Plan by HockeySpiral23

Accidental Connection by overjoyedisland

first impressions by jcwritesstuff

Great Basgiath Bake Off by TeganTales

The State of Rider-Flier Relations by hurricane

basgiath.gov by littlefirefox18

It's not that serious by iva1109

The Bonded Report by ekreider

Dear Brennan by SuebsWrites and Yanny77

Ridoc's Ice Sculpture Delivery by oopsireaditagain

All in Good Fun by sowenelf

Read It and Weep by nevergonnaloveagain

Nothing Up My Sleeve by Nivaria

Tell Me a Secret by Yanny77

Like Coming Home by amberswansong

Karma is a Cat (purring in my lap cause it loves me) by HockeySpiral23

Basgiath U: Backcountry by TeganTales

Mess It Up by justanothersarah

Get In, Loser, We're Going Shipping by oopsireaditagain

Night Games by mint_chocolatechip

Admit It, We Are Lost by AlexanDia03

I have an excellent father by siobhanbooks

Baby Iron Squad by FireHeart_Rose

[zoropookie]

WHAT YOU WON'T DO FOR LOVE (WYWDFL) — SIX

YOU couldn't be having a worse halloween night. choose your fate with your fellow readers and see if it gets better!

chapter five — chapter seven

soulmate!wanderer x gn!reader

You've had many hangovers. You've fell in the bathtub once after your nightly trip in the dark, or maybe more than once? Either way, you've hit your head enough that your consciousness was a concern. You were definitely lacking braincells...

And somehow, none of those moments ever compared to how you felt right now. Prying your eyes open, the throbbing was directed at the intricate grooves of your brain. Every time you tried to twist over to a better angle, your forehead touched something cold, and it sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't see anything, not even a light that could present tiself as a crack. Laying there on your back helplessly, trying to recollect your steps before. As your brain wandered, with little reaction you mustered, you gasped once you were struck with your last moments.

'Imagine pulling a cheap ass shot like that and still losing', pushed to the front in particular. Your eyes dulled, mute rage in the void.

Whatever, loser. What a bold thing to say to someone who's running for their life from you, it's almost as if you're a threat to society.

What did he even do with you? Lifting your hands hesitantly to confirm your suspicions, your wrists were stopped by something hard and the clanking sound of you driving them onto the top making a thick thudding. Your wrists were tied together, alongside with your entire body, struggling to find breath with the rope hugging your ribs.

Your breath caught in your throat, suffocating by the second, your entire body moving in the rhythm of the car. At first you thought you were inside of a really prickly casket, but then as you thought about the acceleration and the subtle vibrations on your back, you squinted.

You were in his trunk, weren't you.

You reached out again, your joined hands reached out again to the top as you brushed your hands against the wired fabric, confirming your assumptions. You exhaled largely, hands falling limp back onto your torso, closing your eyes again to no avail.

Out of everything that you could have wished right now, you could have settled with watching Gossip Girl on your small television with the risk of getting evicted the next day. You could have asked Yoimiya or Itto for money to keep you afloat and be forever indebted to them, you could seduce your landlord, in a sense. You could have done anything right now, and been cozy. Not content, but cozy.

You just shouldn't have been nosy, maybe. Though, there's something ironic about everything you've read about in those niche Twilight fanfictions coming to life now. Just with twelve times the fear those people had getting napped by the vampires.

You moved your shoulders to reach for the rest of the trunk to find something you could get your hands on, but instead of that, you were met with something soft and cold instead. Gripping it, the texture felt stretchy in your hands, fluid and movable. You moved your hands further up, and immediately drew your hands away when you felt something wet.

The smell of copper overwhelmed your senses once your fingers were coated in what smelled like old pennies, hanging heavy around you.

Cringing, your fingers curled. "Oh my god," You whispered to yourself in a shaky tone, breath lapsing as you hit the back of your head against the trunk. You pushed yourself to the furthest point, and cried. "You fucking freak! I can't even be in here in peace?!"

The feeling of the other person was burnt into your head, his skin still soft and the bloodied clothing of his torso, the subtle pierced skin of his abdomen. Squeezing your eyes shut as you felt them sting with uncladded weeping. You were about to have a panic attack, but on the bright side, the fact that your only company was a newly made corpse was pretty funny.

Funny enough to make you hysterical, at least. You weren't interested in spending your last moments being a little bitch about it, at least, and you immediately started brainstorming in tears about how you were going to get out of here. Or call for help.

taglist is open as of ch.5!

[orcbardneeul]

You assumed defeating Neeul at strip poker would be easy, especially once he stripped down to his underwear before they even dealt out the first hand. Despite that, he proceeded to calmly defeat you hand after hand, and now you're about to lose it all. How did he manage that?

🎨: @PaintballX99

Read 'em and Weep under the cut...

"Now, don't be a sore loser, time to- Wait, HUH? How did I lose?"

Neeul's big gamble was derailed at the last minute by one twist of luck. Ah well, he's not one to go back on a bet. Want to go double or nothing?

[izukusjuicythighs]

bkdk fics i read because was it ever casual

Horikoshi keeps feeding us bkdk crumbs like wtf??at this point they HAVE to be canon bkdk hospital kiss confirmed I was izukus freckle ALSO IM KINDA IN A BLOCK RN whenever I finish a fic my yappin brain always has something to say but rn its real quiet so uh🤡

left me no choice(but to stay here forever)

summary: Izuku learns early on in life that the people he loves will always leave him.

So when Kacchan asks him to be his boyfriend, Izuku kisses him and starts grieving for the inevitable.

words: 6,925

chapters: 3/4(updating)

notes: im quite aware that its a bitchy move to inflict pain on ppl but jm gonna do it anyways lol READ THIS AND WEEP I literally wanted to gorge my heart out and then slap all of my love into izuku idk it evokes complicated feelings??normally hate reading unfinished fics BUT THIS!!gave me a life changing experience within 7000words dammit

be my good luck charm

summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest traveling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

words: 6785

chapters: 1/1

notes: cute lil oneshot for yall cuz mha fans r in dire need of fluff rn yknow why🤭 how to date a hottie101 by bkg: set ur crush on fire to show ur undying love(WRITE IT DOWN WRITE IT DOWN)

Barberries and Variegated Knotweeds

summary: The Fight Another Day Agreement is a required legal document for all professional heroes. In the event of a life-threatening injury and the hero and their proxies are unable to respond on their behalf, medical professionals may do whatever it takes to keep the hero alive.

For Izuku, whatever it takes means removing flowers from his lungs, forcing him to forget about the love of his life. The aftermath leaves Izuku bewildered at the sight of a man with spiky blond hair and red eyes the color of Japanese barberries.

words: 19,286

chapters: 4/4

notes: YET ANOTHER HANAHAKI FIC WITH IZUKU WHUMP I just love seeing my favs go through it🤠I've read so many hanahaki fics ud think I'd be used to it but NOPE THIS SHIT HAD ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT was ready to downgrade 1 dimension to solve this shitstorm myself

If It's You

summary: “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting.

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?”

words: 16,863

chapters: 1/1

notes: 10 things I hate about you but make it bkdk I LOVE THIS SHIT angsty dramatic misunderstanding high school aus are my JAM also somewhat gives off from the sidelines vibes so if ur into that defo read

Down the Red Line

summary: His mom is the first person to know about it. She finds out when Izuku asks ( in a very cute three-year-old way) why can’t he see the red line that connected him to Kacchan in the last picture they've taken. The one where they were about to enter Kindergarten on their first day.

"Red line?"

"Yeah, Mamma. This," Little Izuku says, raising his pinky finger to show her the thing tied to it.

Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

words: 7,804

chapters: 1/1

notes: one of my absolute favs since 2021 MAKES ME SO FUKCIN MAD I have to put my phone down and contemplate life for a few mjns while reading it but it's so good??my red string is tied to thjs fic pls

[daryascurse]

𝙲𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙾𝚁 ── Part I: Caveat Emptor

Love, as Coriolanus Snow had long confirmed, held no value. But lust, lust was worth something. Lust was something more malleable. Lust was a currency of the realm just as money was. And lust could be given, dispensed of, much more freely, with little baggage.

pov : tbsos book compliant, chapters alternate bwn 3rd person coryo, 2nd person reader, AFAB reader, feminine pronouns ❀ tags: sεx work, smuτ, fingering, oraI, (male receiving), finger sucking, praise/ begging ❀ word count: ~6k ❀ ao3 ❀playlist

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

Love, as Coriolanus Snow had long confirmed, held as much value as the rocks stuck in the treads of his boots. He rolled his shoe against the carpet, momentarily distracted in an effort to shake free the pebble that jutted unevenly out from the sole and scraped with each step. He didn’t have far to walk these days; he barely had reason to take the trolley. It must have taken only the few steps needed to cross the pavement into the nightclub from the car. But that was just how love was, in his experience, both lived fleetingly and observed from the folly of others. It only took a few careless steps to vex and ruin. 

With another casual but sharp shake of his foot, the errant pebble popped free. 

But lust, lust was worth some thing. Lust was something more malleable. Lust was a currency of the realm just as money was. And lust could be given, dispensed of, much more freely, with little baggage. All that was required of the parties involved was the regular care and discernment of any transaction on the market. Seller liability; buyer beware. Ever since he had cast aside love, it had, in turn, cast a new light on the value of this thing of lust that was somehow its inverse and shadow in one. It did, however, make it harder to look at or even think of Tigris, and so he turned his mind from the clinical analysis of lust to keep these ideas as separate as possible.

The thought of Livia Cardew snuck unbidden into his mind instead, and Coriolanus twitched his foot in irritation again, disguising it as a cautious step downward into the nightclub. It had simply seemed appropriate after dating for two years to invite her to move into one of the newly refurbished penthouse rooms. They shared a bed and little else. She would be awake when he returned, he was sure of it, with crossed arms and an arsenal of sharp words ready to volley from her tongue.

“The night before University graduation, really? Were you out skulking around all night? Do you know what time it is? We have to be on the grounds in only a few hours, and now I’ve had to stay up waiting for you. What is that smell on you?”

He dropped the deposit into the waiting hand of the Avox at the foot of the stairs.

She’d be Livia Snow before the year was out. No, Coriolanus reminded himself. The proposal should be tomorrow, and the wedding at the end of summer. Wouldn’t that be the cherry on top of the cake - the cake, weeping and souring in the June heat - of a beautiful graduation ceremony, where the University would prepare to send off its bright valedictorian? He would take both his diploma and his new title from the hand of Dr. Gaul, and in turn, ask Livia Cardew for her hand as the audience clapped, oohed, and aahed. A new Head Gamemaker, side by side with his new fiancée, would be a fresh angle and nice side plot for the Capitol to be entertained by. Perhaps another celebration for sore losers to focus their energies if the tributes they bet on died too quickly. It would certainly be a busy summer, with a wedding on the heels of the Games, but Coriolanus had decided on the broad strokes of this plan months before. Years, even. Now everything was just filling in the details.

Which is why he frowned at the Avox sweeping aside the thick purple velvet curtain to let him into the private room. Livia was part of that plan, and this room was not a place where any aspect of the plan had any concern. There was business here that Livia Cardew had no place for.

And if she attended to her own business the same way? That was no concern of Coriolanus’s, nor any care of his. They would need one child, just the one, and there was no rush for it yet; and anyway, that could be arranged through means other than the physical. Even though that would mean surrender of some quantity of his DNA, with no guarantee it wouldn’t be intercepted on the path to the intended petri dish…

The wide grin of Dr. Gaul was what came then to his mind, and Coriolanus shook his head vigorously. 

What disturbing thoughts.

It must be the nagging obligation of graduation looming that was poisoning his mind with bizarre visions. But that, still, was for tomorrow. Tonight, he had a hole burning in his pocket, so to speak. It had been a while. 

Too long.

He didn’t come to Pluribus Bell’s nightclub for these purposes. Of course he wouldn’t. Coriolanus didn’t need to think the reasons through, they were merely facts that he had accepted for years now - no, he would never go there, where the music played eternally, where the old man’s smile was still too kind and too knowing, even as Tigris’ lips tightened and her eyes began to dart away from his. And Tigris was another reason why he ordered the car to this, the seediest of nightclubs. He frowned again, bidding away wisps of concept before they could turn to real thought. 

This is probably the last time, Coriolanus realized, as he shrugged off his coat and took his seat in the large leather chair. It was placed conspicuously at the front of the low stage and smelt sharply of disinfectant. He was already high-profile, but there were rakish joys a university student could enjoy innocently enough. Once he graduated, he would lose the cloak of that justification. 

He picked up the glass pane nestled into a side pocket of the chair, and it chirped to life. The lights at the edge of the stage, which was only a foot or so off the ground and wrapped in the same velvet drapery as the rest of the room, lit in a pale, hesitant orange that darkened slowly to red. The tint of the glass panel adjusted with it as Coriolanus scrolled with an idle thumb through the pictures presented to him. All in forcedly promiscuous poses, all arching their backs unnaturally and pursing their lips too zealously to be convincing. He could see, through the digital glow, his fingers curling on the other side of the glass. 

“That one,” he said abruptly, selecting a face without looking too closely at it and handing the pane to the Avox standing silently behind the chair. The face expanded to fill the screen, but Coriolanus turned away before he could see her features fully. In his periphery, the Avox’s head bent in a gesture of assent, before stepping away.

By now, his mind was more skilled at shielding his brain from fully forming certain recognitions, as if he could blind the rhetorical third eye. If he could, he would have driven a stake through it at the first hint of melody that began leaking from the tinny speakers announcing the dancer’s imminent entry. At least the quality here was poor enough that he could distract himself with scornful thoughts of that, of the static and hiccupping interruptions of the sound limping along. And at least he would have a better distraction soon enough.

Another Avox materialized with a tall glass of sparkling copper liquor, but Coriolanus shook his head in refusal, and the shadow retreated. Drinking, he had found early on, only unnecessarily prolonged the transaction - and didn’t help it come to a satisfactory conclusion.

The curtain parted then, and he bit back a grin.

He might have chosen indiscriminately, but his instincts had guided him well. The woman who came weaving out of the heavy drapes was nothing short of beautiful; so much so that Coriolanus caught himself wondering what she was doing here. Whatever she lacked, it was nothing in her appearance. Even her poise had an allure, some exudation that could intoxicate him more than alcohol. Her eyes flashed at him, then lowered, demure, daring to flick up again in a gaze clearly practiced and intended to draw a paying customer in. His body began to lean closer, and he corrected it into a straightening of his posture. 

What about her was so enchanting? The gleeful urge of a pleased grin faded away, and Coriolanus shifted his weight again, adjusting his seat as he watched her. She wore the same as any other girl here - and by that, barely wore a single sheet of silky fabric wound suggestively around her frame. So how was it that it suited her more than any other? Barely a few yards away, with nothing but the air to separate them, she was closer than a finery locked behind a glass display, and he had already purchased her company. What, then, gave him this strange pause before taking what was his?

Well, no matter how captivating she was. Obviously that was part of the wares she marketed, and she was trained in the salesmanship. While he could always appreciate beauty, he was here to instill some training of his own.

That was one of the problems with places like this, and a problem he would have to find a way to avoid in the future. Sitting in a chair, looking up at a woman he paid for as she swayed over him; that never sat right with Coriolanus. Never mind being a woman. That part didn’t matter. It was just a ridiculous concept to pay anyone to look down on you. Besides that, he wanted more than just a passive show with his cock half-fisted in limp fingers. He had seen Festus Creed like that when he’d first introduced Coriolanus to establishments like this. Festus had been pathetically miserable when Persephone dumped him. He’d looked even more pathetic that night when Coriolanus turned his head in the dark crowd of the bar, hoping his friend would have the decency to look abashed or have a jaunty smile, but instead his jaw was slack and pants half-down as he gawked up at the naked ladies on the stage. That incident alone had been what convinced Coriolanus it was worth the money for a private room. More so than potential embarrassment of his own was the disturbing possibility of seeing another man, or woman, looking so foolishly debased, and knowing that that same slimy hand and glassy gaze would the next morning likely be reaching for the same bread in hotel buffet lines or pushing the same elevator buttons as he. The more control Coriolanus could have over his surroundings, the better. 

The customer is always right.

Coriolanus held up a hand, and she paused in her motions, her limbs like water. Truly, beautiful. 

But even if he could appreciate beauty, he could not let it have any power here. He could still feel a small smile on his lips as he spoke. “Come here.”

She took that shallow step down from the stage, and Coriolanus leaned back in the chair. “No,” he said, interrupting her movement again, and his hand moved down in an inviting motion to his lap. “I want you to crawl to me.”

He had to lower her. She hesitated.

“That’s right,” he said, and he felt his lips split in a smile again as she lowered herself to the floor. He watched as she palmed cautiously, one hand forward, then a knee to match. Her hips swayed as she moved. The red light painted her skin in deep contour. “Slower,” he said, and her back dipped in inviting response. Her hips pushed higher. 

Framed like a fucking heart.

Coriolanus shifted in the chair as she drew closer. Every detail about her was perfect, in a way that drove right through him, and made his thighs ache and open in a way that rarely reached him this deeply. The curve of her lip, the sweep of her eyes as she looked up at him again - if lust was a currency, he was ready to spend everything in his account. He swallowed.

She was between his feet, his legs opened to make space for her between them, and she had sat up to rock back on her heels. The fine satin sash that wound around her body wilted suggestively, as if begging him to rip it from her. His fingers itched.

“Would you like to know my name?” she asked, and even through the forced husk of a customer service voice, he could hear that she sounded beautiful, too. 

“I’d like,” Coriolanus said softly, “you to do whatever I ask of you tonight.”

She tightened her eyes and opened her mouth, but Coriolanus cut her off before that harmonious sound could flow from her lips again.

He could affect his voice, too.

“I’m sure you’ve heard other men say that before,” he said, stressing his tone in just the right place and letting it lilt in others. “I’m sure you’ve heard men make requests that you act submissive, or perhaps that you act dominant. These men sit in chairs like this and ask to play along with some fantasy of theirs. But I’m not asking for an act of play-pretend.”

I want you to know your place, he thought, looking at the woman knelt at his feet. He needed it.

She lifted her face, and Coriolanus let himself caress the side of her cheek, his thumb falling to her chin and his fingers closing in a grasp. Her skin was soft. 

“Can you give me what I want?”

“Show me what that is,” she murmured.

She was so evidently good at her job. Coriolanus had identified that immediately, even without needing to hear the snake charm of her voice. But when she finished her sentence, or when he heard what sounded like a natural pause, he turned his thumb up to trap it against her mouth, to keep that enchanting sound from doing its wicked magic. In turn, she let her lips open just wide enough to invite him in. Her tongue teased at the pad of his finger, gentle lashings of the muscle.

A clear acquiescence that she’s following his control.

“Good girl.”

It groaned from him without warning, and his instinct was to physically yank it back. But pulling himself from her wouldn’t retract the words. If anything, it encouraged her. A hand rose to clasp around his, and she pressed closer to his body. Coriolanus leaned forward, his back curving. His knees wanted to tighten around her, urges quickening at his thighs. It should be a concern, came that last whisper of unfogged mind, but Coriolanus closed his eyes, his other hand cupping the other side of her face and fingers lighting at the base of her skull as his free thumb stroked her jaw. Lust was settling faster than it usually did in this little velvet room, but why not enjoy it - one last time?

She looked at him, that carefully crafted demure glance below the silky curtain of her eyelashes. He withdrew his thumb and ran it over her lips, her own saliva glossing across her mouth in a glittering red mirage. The lights seemed to have turned an even richer shade of crimson, bathing the room in black, bronze, scarlet. His thumb shifted clumsily, a streak of silver left at the side of her mouth. She exhaled, the sharpness of breath skating warm across his skin. Coriolanus bent his neck and did something he rarely felt the urge to do in these transactions - he kissed the woman on the mouth. Her lips were chapped at the ministration of his touch, and it somehow bit at something inside him, unlocking a thirst for more, more, to drink from her in a way he hadn’t felt acutely parched for in so long. Her lips pressed gently back at his, as if this, too, was a professional line she didn’t cross often. A benefit reserved for the finest customers, perhaps. And Coriolanus Snow couldn’t imagine many men or women finer than he often visited a place like this . Festus certainly never bothered to shill out for a private room.

When the kiss broke, her hands had crept up to rest on the leather between his knees. Coriolanus saw the motion. His fingers curled at the back of her neck and his hips pushed wider, closer. 

“Go on,” he said, and he heard the huskiness creep into his tone.

She palmed over him and found the fastening of his pants. Below the cage of his elbows, she had begun to slowly tug at his zipper. Coriolanus let go of her almost regrettably. He leaned back and lifted his hips, pushing even further to the edge of the chair, and her hands somehow made the yanking of his pants down his thighs to pool at the floor a graceful motion. 

His cock was already hard, something that he felt no abashment for. Just a testament to the value of the transaction. He couldn’t see her expression as she skated her hands across his inner thighs to situate herself. The touch of her gentle hands made the fine golden dusting of hair prickle in the wake of her movement. Coriolanus stroked a hand along his length as her mouth opened. Once more, and then he urged the tip towards her. Her tongue had lolled from her open lips, and he slapped his cock gently against her.

“Mmh,” he heard her let out, almost involuntarily, and it sent another sharp, hot thrill down his spine. Her fingers wrapped around his to guide his full length into her, and as if to coax him into letting her show him she can do all he would ask of her. And so Coriolanus let go.

Her cheeks hollowed with the first suck, and Coriolanus hissed.

“Ah,” and it was from him that time. He sucked in the inhale as she dragged her tongue along the thick length of the tender vein branching up from the underside of his cock, cradling him in her mouth as her hand settled at the base to anchor herself. Coriolanus felt the muscles in his abdomen and back, wound tight, unwind with each ragged breath from his nose. He slowly fell back, relaxing into the leather embrace of the back of the chair, and his head lolled to the side.

Her mouth was warm, soft, a perfect fit, and Coriolanus pushed his hips up slowly in agreement with the pace she set. It was starting to send rivulets of heat spiking up below his skin, and his elbows rose to fumble at the buttons lining down his shirt, aching to cool off. 

“Look at me,” Coriolanus rasped out, his hands settled at the hem of his shirt and so close to the anxious work of her head. 

She had to almost pull off for that, her lips sliding up and higher from his cock and leaving the sheen of her saliva mixed with the beading precum beginning to leak from him. Drool still shone at the side of her split lips, and her eyes were bright as they rolled up at him. Perhaps an affectation of the profession, an ability to cry dewy tears at will, but, as he grabbed the side of her face, she blinked in a way that was too perfect to be fully an act. 

Coriolanus let his lips curve into a smirk, and as he pushed his hips up to slide his cock back into her mouth, he relished in the muffled moan that choked in her throat. The rhythm began to beat faster, the heels of his palms hard on her cheekbones as he held her in place. The open billow of his shirt fell to his sides, the chisel of his stomach muscles stained crimson in the light tightening with a strain that began pushing through his body in response to the urgency that had built from his loins.

“Oh,” he heard himself say, and he closed his eyes as if to hide from the words he let spill. “Oh, oh, that’s it. Good girl, good, good girl.”

She made another choking whimper that was nearly enough to make him unravel, some coil loosening in his shoulders and tightening again below. 

That might have been enough on any other visit to the velvet room. He would have held her face between his heads, the warmth of her breath enveloping him and her lips closing as he let that sensation within him erupt. When he was spent into her mouth, no matter what she did with that, he would leave a few coins in recognition of her service and pay the remainder of the club’s amount on his way out the door. He would button his coat to the neck and climb into the car, head back to the penthouse, and turn a deaf ear to Livia’s lectures as he readied for bed. But he found an aching in his bones that night - that he wanted more . It was his last night here after all.

Might as well get some bang for his buck, as that prehistoric saying went.

“Oh, oh,” Coriolanus said, and pushed with a gentler strength than he would normally, to ease her off his cock before it was too late. She acquiesced easily, strings of saliva beading out and connecting her to him still as she rocked back on her heels. 

Her eyes were still weeping involuntarily - or, again, perhaps craftily - and she lifted a finger to wipe delicately at their corners. That satin, wound around her like a snake, shifted again, bent dangerously high in the valley between her kneeling thighs. 

“Come here,” Coriolanus breathed before thinking. 

She rose, and he saw it, her foot sway a little unsteadily. Perhaps more than a dance and a suck was something she wasn’t used to either. But she raised a leg around his hips to straddle him, and Coriolanus tugged at the satin. He ran his hands among the smooth length and she shivered under his touch, her eyelids sinking and another “ oh ” sighing from her perfectly parted lips. That, Coriolanus could appreciate, more than the forced falsity of the other women in the glass pane’s catalog. Even if it wasn’t natural, it was a convincing enough act.

As he found the knot at her hip, she reached up to her mouth, rolling each finger across her tongue in turn.

“Can I?” she asked.

Coriolanus raised his eyebrows at her. His fingers were busy on the knot. “Can you what?”

He knew what, and more than that, his body knew what.

“I want to hear you ask it,” he said in gentle facade when she hesitated for just the right amount of time.

“Can I touch you?” she barely whispered.

The light in her eyes shone like rubies in the red room. 

Coriolanus paused, and he thought he would be undone at the heartbeats between the reply. “You can.”

She reached, her fingers wet and dripping red diamonds. He groaned, shuddering forward and letting his head rest on her shoulder, his own fingerwork frozen a minute when she wrapped around his cock. The warmth was back, that snug fit rolling through him as she stroked her fingers up and down. This, this was what the money was truly for, and this is what it was worth; better than his solitary work in the shower where he had to bite back grunts and groans as he spilled down the drain. 

The determination not to do it yet was what gave him the strength to pick the knot free at last, and the satin slithered from her body in one fine sheet. There was a sense of a tug, and he felt that her other hand had fisted at the fabric of his open shirt. Coriolanus shook into the crook of her neck, and his hands pushed at the purchase of her hips.

“Oh!”

It was a yelp, a sign that something in the knead of his hands was more powerful than she was accustomed to, and he squeezed again. 

“Move,” Coriolanus managed. “Move- up.”

She understood, lifting her hips - or perhaps he guided them higher up his lap before he freed his grasp - and her hands found his shoulders then to lean on, audaciously grasping his skin below the splayed shirt collar.

He moved his fingers between her thighs, keeping her from lowering entirely, and she gasped at the sudden contact of his fingers against her cunt. 

“Oh- f-”

He allowed himself a heavy exhale at just how wet she was. That’s something even the best couldn’t fake. He slid his fingers through the folds and pushed two inside at the same time. Her body didn’t even give resistance, that’s how easy it was to swim in her velvet, but her fingernails bit at his shoulder and she choked on another wail as she dropped her head.

It was too sweet.

“I didn’t expect that,” Coriolanus raspsed. The truth came from him impulsively, in a rare moment of abandon. “You got so wet just from putting your mouth on my cock?”

The words sounded dirtier than they should have as they broke from his lips. She sucked in an inhale. 

“Tell me.”

“I - mm hmm.”

He understood the message, but her gentle failure to fully admit it came across as less coy and more smug to his ears. She was no better than he, to refuse filthy words here. He turned his thumb up, pressing to her clit, and then he pressed hard. She gasped again, her inner muscles fluttering over his touch. Coriolanus gave a rub of his thumb, and she pushed her hips forward as if to seek more of the friction. He lifted his touch in denial.

“I said, tell me.”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “It - yes , you got me so excited, so, so w- wet.”

The keening confession earned her another gentle circle of his thumb. Her thigh muscles went slack in the hold over his. Before long he could work three fingers into her, massaging at her walls, and when he teased the side of a fourth against her skin, that’s when she broke.

“Plea- please,” and it made him grin again.

“What?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

She shook her head in agony. “Please, please,” she whispered. “Please fuck me.”

The way she half-wailed drowned out the last of the pathetic music from the speakers, and he found he really liked it.

Coriolanus slipped his fingers out, dragged her wetness down to his cock where her saliva had begun to dry and tack in the arid basement. He urged it up, his other hand locked on her waist to guide her hips.

All she had to do was lower herself to him one more time.

Her hands steadied at his shoulder, and he could feel the head of his cock cresting at her entrance. 

“Good girl.”

Because of how wet she was, he slipped right in, and Coriolanus shuddered. He let go as she sank down, leaning back against the plush leather. He could see the quaver of her limbs as she tried to ease herself. He was barely halfway in and she was visibly shaking at the way he must have started to stretch her. All she could do is moan, quietly, taking slow breaths as she went.

“Oh - ”

He held his hands at her hips and bit back a grating groan. Within him, the tsunami wave was drawing high, higher, almost crested when she finally took all of him in her and was flush against his body. Forget any clumsy fumbling of his cock alone over the shower drain. The one time he and Livia Cardew had tried to find a rhythm in the sheets; no, this urgency was not a rushed one to have the experience over with. This was a ravenous hunger.

She rocked on his lap, Coriolanus moving her with the strength still trained in his arms as his cock dragged inside her, gently tugged with each sway of her body. His fingers curved, dug into her back, unable to settle in just one place as the friction of her body rubbed against his. He could feel the stuttering of her breath as she rode him.

“Mm- fuck -”

“Fuck. You’re so - you’re sucking me right up.” Coriolanus licked at the corner of his mouth. “Good, good girl.”

He let his hand back for a moment and spanked her.

She howled and thrust her hips forward. 

Sweat beaded at his hairline, and he could feel the lines of his face tightening in concentration. His hold hardened, and her chin jerked back, her eyes rolling and lips parted. 

Coriolanus realized suddenly just how much he was holding back, and he thought - what for ? Her delicate grace was so clearly just a professional facade. The way she clawed at him and stuttered her breath, that was real. He was quite good, by now, at identifying fellow liars. She was evidently enjoying it as much as he was. 

Her lithe beauty wouldn't break.

He gripped her hips hard with both hands and thrust his hips up, pounding into her body at an urgent pace. The pleasure was making his muscles tremble. Focusing that strength steaded him, concentrated him on each rolling wave, on that tsunami threatening evermore to break. He squeezed again, spanking her again, and then again, as it made her keen and rock her hips faster. 

“Fuck - t-touch me - please?”

“Hmm?”

“Please,” she said, almost sobbing and her voice hiccuping with each unsteady bounce.

The way she begged made him grit his teeth and focus, and he waited a moment - to tease her, to steady himself - before he let go with one hand, returning his thumb to the space where their bodies met. His skin was sheened with sweat and the shining, crimson-lit trail of her arousal marbling the base of his cock, barely visible with the launches of her body. Coriolanus worked his finger between and felt for a place that made her raise her voice in that delightful way again.

It worked.

She cried out something that, for a moment, didn’t quite make sense to him. “I’m coming!” Coriolanus hadn’t heard those words in a place like this, where she was already here, not these words from a woman, but his body recognized them as soon as she finished her wail. Something in the walls of her cunt tightened, sucking around him, and then throbbed in hot, rushing convulsion. 

“Oh- ”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Coriolanus said, and it made him shudder at the raw agony he let into his voice. But it was impossible to hide the difference this made, and he withdrew his finger to focus on fucking into her again. 

A half-formed thought flew across his mind, and he pushed his glistening fingers to her lips. “Suck.”

She curled closer to him, one hand still pushing at him for balance, as she clasped the other around his forearm. Coriolanus thrust his fingers into her mouth and groaned as her tongue smacked him clean of her.

His strokes came quicker, faster, rougher, a cacophony of skin and creaking chairs and hot, heavy breaths from two sets of lungs. And without much warning, he threw his head back, throbbing inside her warm cunt, and let loose an anguished cry. She shook as he came, hard, each spurt pushed from him until he felt boneless. The feeling of her still wrapped around him kept him weak.

It was a few moments before her hands slid down his chest, and he managed to tap the side of her hip.

“Alright,” Coriolanus said, and it didn’t sound as casual, as strong as he would have liked. He swallowed, almost moaning when she pulled herself off him, the arid chill of the room prickling over his flushed and sweaty skin. He almost patted his pocket for a handkerchief before remembering it was in the jacket behind him - dangerous, how much this was rattling his mind from the simplest things. Instead of standing yet, he lifted a corner of his shirt to wipe at his face. 

The mismatched sound of laboring breath still filled the room. When Coriolanus looked up, she had sunk to her knees again, drawing the satin sash between her hands to re-wind it around her body. The wild thought seized him, how she would look with his hands binding her with that very sash - perhaps even in his penthouse bed, where he could put her properly on her back, and he had to shake his head to make the fantasy flee.

A very worthy farewell.

He was almost sad to see this part of his life go, and he tipped extremely generously with little hesitation. 

Coriolanus slept sounder than he had in a while, even with Livia prodding at his ribs before the sun fully rose and snarling at him to get ready. Even the curt note left from Tigris at the dining table leaving her clearly insincere regrets, but she didn’t think the Grandma’am had strength enough to muster for the ceremony and they would stay in with Mrs. Plinth, could dampen the strange warmth settled in his chest. It struck him, as he took his place at the head of the graduation line, that this was perhaps satisfaction. Sincere satisfaction in a way that all the little moments of pride through his time at the University had been building to, all tied with a nice little bow. Every want, every need attended to, and more within his reach waiting to be handed to him at the denouement of the ritual. Festus Creed passed him on his way to his seat, clapping him on the shoulder and giving him a childish thumbs up, and Coriolanous let his teeth split in genuine glee at his friend. The weight of the ring box knocked in the pocket of his graduation gown, but even that heaviness was not an anchor, but a sturdy climbing hold. One of the last ones he had to clamber over. He felt like a cat lapping up the last dregs of a rich bowl of cream. 

Livia was somewhere down the line, her pinched face hidden in the sea of matching caps. Coriolanus took the stage to give his valedictorian speech, planning to polish it off with the proposal. As he shuffled his papers, more prop than necessity, he waited for the commencement speaker to finish - some lofty, thin-voiced broadcaster the graduation committee had accepted with the wheedling donation of the Flickerman family - and scanned the rows of his classmates looking for her in preparation of that moment. It struck him how many faces he didn’t recognize. Though the University was small and elite, and while he, of course, was notorious to all, Coriolanus hadn’t spent his years bothering to make new friends or to oogle classmates. Anyone he hadn’t recognized from the Academy was likely some scholarship student from one of the less-prestigious secondary schools at the outskirts of the Capitol, and not worth his time. But here, he was forced with the fact that he would be speaking to a notable statistic of strangers. There was Festus, of course, and Lysistrata in the row behind him. He squinted, looking for Livia.

And then he saw another face he recognized, a face that made him start, lean forward, and almost miss the way the commencement speaker had stepped back and extended his hand to introduce Coriolanus to the podium. 

“...your valedictorian, Coriolanus Snow!”

He rose automatically, the papers beginning to slip between the sweat gathering between his fingers. The anticipatory applause began to rise from the sea of classmates and spectators. 

Except one person wasn’t clapping, a young woman eying him below the brim of her cap. 

That joyous satisfaction alighting his bones began to settle into unease. This, too, was a feeling he recognized as one he hadn’t felt in a while. A very long while. This was the reeling sense of control threatening to slip from his fingers, and he clenched his papers.

Coriolanus still hadn’t found Livia in that crowd. But he did see the woman from the velvet room, waiting, with the rest of his class, to graduate.

Part II: Ferae Naturae

[bakugo-softski]

“Kacchan Bakugo, ya damn moron” is just so 😳😳

Like he went from “this damn nerd is so beneath me fuck off deku!!” to “this fucking amazing little shit is FAR ahead of me, and I LOVE IT, AND NOT ONLY THAT BUT HE LOVES ME, THE GREATEST HERO IN THE WORLD CALLS ME KACCHAN, HOW ABOUT THAT YA FUCKING MORONS IM AMAZING BECAUSE DEKU LOVES ME READ IT AND WEEP LOSERS” and we did😭😭

[mediumgayitalian]

(very late im so sorry) fic rec friday 7

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

i am indeed aware it is monday. i am a fool who is Bad at planning. my bad.

A Place To Start by @wintersky101

Nico can speak English, Italian, Latin and Ancient Greek. Unfortunately, he can only read and write in two of the four, and even more unfortunately, English isn’t one of those.

paul blofis & nico isn't something i knew i needed but i LOVE. like lets maybe get this kid a real grownup, huh? also i think it's really funny that nico is older than paul technically. like i imagine paul, who is a history nerd, would be spending half their tutoring sessions grilling nico about the 40s lol

2. Transitioning to Manhood by @nicostolemybones

Will gets a box from his mom of childhood memories.

i have quotes from this fic framed. it is deeply moving, especially that one paragraph about conditional love....like yeah it got to me. i wept about the conditional love paragraph. if you are ready for some catharsis this is indeed the fic for you

3. Doctor solace to the rescue by Phantomxlegend

Will idolized Beckendorf when he was younger, and who wouldn’t pass up on a chance to heal your idol and prove that you could be just as strong?

ON MY HANDS AND KNEES ON THE FUCKING FLOOR......WEEPING AND CRYING AND CLUTCHING THE BLUE FUCKING CURTAINS. WHY. WHY. CLAWING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE AND SOBBING INTO MY HANDS. no exaggeration when i say i never fully recovered from this one. baby will and quiet nobel beckendorf. beckendorf i love you. beckendorf you deserved a thousand times more than what you got. i can't feel my chest

4. Silver Rings by @buoyantsaturn

Barely a second later, he said, “What’s that?” “What’s what?” Will said back to him, not taking his eyes off the gash. “That ring.” Will froze, eyes widening. “Isn’t that Nico’s?

secret relationship my EVERYTHING. makes me buckshit feral every time its so FUN. cj ur iconic and you have been THEEE backbone of this fandom for years. i love this one particularly bc the whole thing with will glowing will never not be funny shdhfdjsnfkf

5. A Little More in the Closet Than Out of it by @buoyantsaturn

The only thing they could do to keep Harley in the infirmary so they could keep him monitored was to keep him entertained, and somehow, Will had gotten himself roped into a game of hide and seek.

giggle was giggled at the title. i am easily entertained. but the fic was fun and sweet; harley is the camp's darling as is his right. nico is such a dweepy dork loser hes so real i love him

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[renegade0897]

So, the disgruntled pelican already has a history of trash talking other drivers even during his streamer era, the era where he was still a "loser" driver then.

And lookie here! He's making them stupid comments again! He thinks that Sir Lewis and George's health update from Toto Wolff is "not worth the time." And said "everyone gets heat strokes so it's tough for everyone."

This clearly evokes the manbaby dictator in the making saying "there are good neo-Nazis." (Sorry for the political part. It ends there 🤣)

Like bro, WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Like, you really that stupid to put the limelight on you almost all the time?!

It's like "oh it's me time all the time baby because I won and you guys lost so focus on me and my struggles, fuck the other drivers cuz they lost and I won! Talk about me instead!"

Fuck you Lando Norris, like honestly. Read this and weep.

F U C K Y O U... 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

[clarisinne]

okay it’s not an ask but 🙈 i read your whole entire CF comic last weekend (and i’ve reread it this week) and now i’m waiting for Stardew Valley to download so I can marry Harvey. That’s all. I’ve literally never had an interest in this game till your comic, I love it. The neurodivergence is diverging i fear.

AHHA BABY YOU'RE NOT ALONE i get this message pretty often nowadays!!! Fuck yeah marry that loser. Marry tf out of that loser make him weep bc you chose him-

CONCERNEDAPE ARE YOU SEEING THIS...