#alarmingly often actually

[skythesnake]

Having thoughts about Moash and the flack he gets, not as a person, but as a character.

Spoilers ahead for the whole stormlight archive.

To start, I hate him deeply for his person. I think he deserves eternal exile on Braize for what he's done. I fully align with the Fuck Moash mentality. That said, I genuinely like him as a character and for the role he plays in the story. I'm not a professional at literary analysis, but I do really like to deconstruct stories in the context of how it fits together. I apologize if I get terminology wrog and I would welcome a discussion, I'm curious to see rebuttals and agreements to my points.

Moash is a villanous foil to Kaladin's heroism. I’ve seen comments on the fact that he, the only one who seems to *keep* pushing on social change is the villain. I think that's almost completely incorrect, and it also ignores the ideology that Moash pushes. First, he isn’t the only one pushing for societal change. Kaladin may stop hating ALL lighteyes, but he, as a darkeyed man, gains some of the highest respect - which alone changes the dynamic at least a little. And he doesn't conform to the current ideals, which sets a precedent and an example to everyone else. Jasnah is also noted to be changing policy regarding slaves, and Dalinar wrote a whole damned book. This is slightly different from darkeyes vs. lighteyes, but the point of that power struggle is that discrimination based on an arbitrary fact - no matter how "good" your reason - is bad. Progress is progress. I want to make it clear that I'm in no way saying that it can't or shouldn't move faster. I'm not implying that people don't need to wake up and check their own prejudice. But I *am* saying that when you grow up a certain way, spend your whole life that way, it's hard to change, even if it'sjust because it'shard to admit when you've done and said some icky stuff, as Brandon Sanderson himself knows.

I also dislike the idea that Moash isn't the villain for having this ideology. Because, yes, to a certain extent, it's correct - wanting equality is important and good. But, the thing that I don't see acknowledged is that Moash doesn't want equality, he wants revenge, which means the conversation is entirely different. Would he be happier if there was equality? absolutely. But as he shows, time and time again, is that all he really wants is to make other suffer like he has. And I think it's important to acknowledge why.

Something that is conveniently forgotten by most people (including me, at times) is that extremism is Bad. You see this in the book with Kaladin's mentality of destroying himself to protect others, you see it in Shallan ignoring all her problems, and you see it, most glaringly, in the Skybreakers, specifically Nale's version. Moash /began/ with a deep desire to do what was right, to bring about justice and equality to those around him. But as he grew more bitter, that narrative twisted and turned into revenge. It turned into an equally bad idea that is VERY common in real life, "They have harmed Us and therefore They are bad and We are good." Which is the very thing that Kaladin has to overcome!

Another issue I see is that Moash isn't very nuanced. He's called flat, and boring, with only ome goal. I disagree for a few reasons. From an in-universe perspective, he is that way /intentionally/. At the end of his arc, when he's Vyre he is purposefully shoving progress aside. The reason he's so morally flat is because he actively chose to be. He answers every question with one answer and you can see that because when Odium's protection goes away, he has a crisis! He has a meltdown that results in him blocking it out in the same way. He cannot handle the idea that he might be wrong anymore and so after his magical protect is gone, he puts up mortal ones, which are in some ways, even tougher to break. But aside from that, he isn't flat in the beginning! He starts as a very human character, trying to get justice and ending up in the wrong situation. He laughs and chats with his friends, he develops a genuine connection to Kaladin and the flattening of his morality is completely intentional on his part.

From a writer's perspective, moash can't really be redeemed - which I see some discourse on - because he is a direct foil to Kaladin. He's a mirror villain, two very, very similar people who started at nearly the same place and grew in opposing directions because of how they reacted. Moash is a good antagonist to Kaladin because they are so similar. The only difference between them is that Kaladin looked at their broken world and decided he was going to fix things by helping them grow in a better direction, knowing that would take a long time, while Moash looked at their broken world and decided he needed to fix things by burning the whole thing down and starting over, because anything less would be too slow for him

I just got frustrated with seeing people dunk on how Moash was written without examining why he was like that, both in-universe and out. Yes, there are issues, like every piece of art, but I thought the way he developed alongside Kaladin was actually quite cool, and while I wasn't pleased with how things ended (I had to close the book and take a break when Teft died) I was satisfied with it, because it felt natural for things to come to that conclusion based on the paths they were both on.

[flamingphoenix916]

I always love Georgie but she's especially pulling her weight today. So incredibly validating to get a character who responds to everything with the appropriate levels of alarm.

I love the OIAR, but even Celia was like "oh! That's probably bad!" and then hatched crazy Evil Master Plan instead of Georgie's "you're being followed by a WHAT" "you were researching WHERE" "IT TOOK YOUR STORY???" "if this is who I think it is, we're cooked" Truly, she has what it takes to be in charge (preservation instincts).

[gauzestarr]

My boy returns :>

[spock-adoodledoo]

sigh. when will i see you four again in any meaningful capacity (impossible)

[mggslover]

‘spencer’s “first” time showing you his jealous/possessive side’. bau reader and spencer just started dating and are a bit reserved when it comes to showing affection in the office. a new agent starts flirting/trying to get readers attention and for the first time spencer make sure everyone knows who his girl friend is <3 thank you !!!

the first time spencer gets jealous genre: fluff word count: 965 a/n: oh how i love this prompt!! thanks for the request

Spencer Reid wasn’t big on PDA, so it didn’t surprise you when he suggested keeping your relationship under wraps once it became official. You didn’t mind much—sure, it was a little frustrating when he’d pat your hand away at the round table or create distance the morning after a particularly fun night, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you—but in general, you were glad to keep things private. You had no problem avoiding the “no dating between coworkers” policy drama, and it gave you the opportunity to focus on the cases and enjoy Spencer’s company even more when you’d sneak off home together at the end of the day. 

So, when you found yourself chatting with the new addition to the team—Agent Owen Rogers—you didn’t expect the effect it would have on your boyfriend.

“Of course he’s taken an interest in her. That woman makes everyone fall head over heels,” Penelope half-sighed, her voice a mix of awe and envy as she watched you talk to Owen from the office window. Her words caught Spencer’s attention, and he turned to the scene, spotting you mid-conversation. He recognized the looks his colleagues were giving Owen—those same dreamy, admiring glances they'd had for Hotch’s brother whenever he visited the office.

Spencer’s posture stiffened as the understanding sank in. If he were being honest, he’d liked the new agent when they first met, but now, seeing the way Owen was smirking at you as he moved closer, that initial fondness had quickly morphed into distaste. He could still hear his colleagues gushing over the agent as he quickly got up and headed down the stairs toward you.

“So, I was thinking Italian? Do you like Italian?” Owen asked, his voice upbeat.

Before you could even open your mouth to turn him down, you felt the familiar warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.

“We love Italian.”.

You stood there, completely bewildered, as your boyfriend not only inserted himself into the conversation but also made the boldest display of possessiveness, wrapping his arms around you without a second thought. It was so un-Spencer-like—especially in the office—but you weren’t about to complain, your hands instinctively resting over his arms.

“Actually, Owen—I can call you Owen, right?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation before continuing. “You know, it’s fascinating how often people pick Italian food for a first date. Objectively, it’s a terrible choice. Think about it: you’ve got these long, slippery noodles—spaghetti, for instance—that are practically designed to humiliate you. The odds of splattering marinara sauce all over yourself—or worse, your date—are alarmingly high. And then there’s the garlic. People convince themselves that a mint will magically erase it, but we both know that’s just a delusion. Why anyone still thinks it’s a good idea is beyond me. Kind of stupid, don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, struggling to suppress your laughter as Owen’s face crumpled. You truly felt sorry for the poor thing—he really was a nice guy—but seeing Spencer get this sassy, especially when it was all because of you, was strangely entertaining.

“I—uh, yeah.” Owen gives a nervous laugh, his fingers awkwardly brushing the back of his neck. “Pretty stupid.”

“But we’d love to have Italian food with you! Right, baby?” Spencer gives your waist a subtle squeeze, his silent cue for you to play along.

You cough slightly, trying to cover your laugh. “Right! Yes, totally—Italian sounds great.”

“Yeah, that’s cool, guys. But, uh, now that I think about it, I’m swamped. You know, being a new agent and everything.” Roger’s voice wavers just enough to betray his weak excuse.

“So unfortunate. Maybe another time,” Spencer replied smoothly. Owen nodded stiffly, forcing a tight smile before quickly walking off.

You scoffed a laugh as Owen disappeared down the bullpen, the shock still lingering. You turned to Spencer, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“What in the world has gotten into that pretty head of yours?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a little, suddenly aware of how much of a spectacle he had just made in the middle of the office.

“He was asking you out,” he said quietly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You chuckled, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I was just about to say no.”

His arms found their way back around your waist, leaning into your touch as if he’d forgotten where he was. His eyes flickered from your hands to your face, his expression softening. “I know you were. But he should know not to ask you.”

You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, amused by how the man who’s so intent on keeping your relationship discreet in public is now letting his clingy nature shine through.

“You know he can’t smell that I’m taken, right?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Well, maybe we should change that,” Spencer whispered, his voice low as he leaned in. His curls tickled your neck, causing you to giggle.

Unbeknownst to you, the whole team had quietly tiptoed their way down the stairs, and gathered around on the other side of the bullpen. They stood there, wide-eyed, like they were watching an episode of their favorite drama.

“Derek… Am I seeing this right?” Garcia whispered, voice dripping with curiosity as she watched Spencer's face disappear into your neck.

Morgan’s chuckle echoed through the bullpen. “Oh yes, babygirl. You’re seeing it just right.”

Spencer’s grip on you tightened as he sensed the peering eyes, but instead of discomfort, he radiated a quiet pride. He wasn’t hiding anymore—he was proud of what you shared, proud to be yours, and for you to be his, and he wanted the world to know it.

[rxmye]

" 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 "

𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — you're his entire world, his only thought, the very illness that has corrupted his mind and body . . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / mentions of sleep medication / pathetic yandere / suggestive content / a character slightly aimed towards people with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: edited, Lucas first fanfic is out !! . . click here to read it !! <3

He was someone with fleeting attraction—yet a hopeless romantic, who'd spend most of his class time doodling away in his notebook instead of taking actual notes, writing these scenarios that played out in his mind—tired hazy doodles of small characters, blurry lines of writing, scribbled out text, as he struggled to stay awake—

He had never had a proper sleeping schedule, and if he did he'd never stick to it, a night owl who often faced the consequences of his own actions, sleep medication was something he was all too familiar with, the feeling of being restless without sleep, his nerves always on edge, dark circles under his eyes made him feel insecure, and alarmingly out of character.

He felt something touch his back, he froze, nerves all over the place, a pit growing in his stomach as he turned almost instinctively to face whoever touched him, pushing their hand off harshly . . . "Hey Yoichi . . what's up with you man, why so aggressive?!" Lucas asked . . and then he froze, letting out a nervous and rather embarrassed chuckle, "Ah—um . . sorry Lucas . . just feeling a little tired that's all", he replied softly, voice barely coming out.

To be quite honest, when he first saw you, Yoichi thought nothing of it, he sat at the very back and you for some reason, sat in front of him, not that he minds, you're presence covered him from the teachers eyesight, which allowed him to do whatever he wanted, he was even able to drift off to sleep during that period.

However, it wasn't until he found himself, drawing tiny versions of you in his notebook, little doodles, pink ink staining the paper as he hearted your initials together—his name then your last name . . your name then his last name . . . names of future children—that he realized he was crushing on you . . . big time.

His emotions was fleeting, it had always been, he didn't think much of it . . it was just a simple crush, everyone has one of those, and they go away with time.

Yoichi was a punctual student—and a well organized one—he'd rarely forget his books, much less the notebook with his embarrassing doodles of him and you, it would ruin his image to be quite honest . . yet for some reason he had forgotten it in class today, it could've been his ever-growing restlessness due to a lack of sleep, or maybe the caffeine that's been fucking with his head since early in the morning—he sighed—knocking himself out of his own thoughts, as he twisted the doorknob, hopefully the teacher left the class unlocked.

The door was open, to his utter relieve . . . wait . . . "y/n?", he spoke, taken aback—you were soundly asleep on your desk—you looked so at . . peace . . . calm? . . . Nothing could describe the emotions he felt as he approached you, slowly reaching over to his desk and grabbing his notebook, quickly stuffing it in his backpack—he should go . . , that would be the best course of action . . .

Yet he couldn't . . . he knelt down on the floor, leaning his head on the desk, starring at your face, looking into every curve and line, in his eyes every imperfection just made you even more perfect, the pattern of your breath was soothing to his otherwise restless mind, a soothing scent radiated off of you, and for the first time in months, he felt sleepy . . . like he could sleep without a care . . . everything felt so right. . .—nothing felt displaced or disoriented.

That was the day that started it all, it seems, Yoichi had started forming something that was akin to obsession, he couldn't sleep at all without you—a piece of you—something that reminded him of that calming scent that he felt that day, you calmed his overdriven nerves, you halted his troubles for more than a fleeting moment.

Yoichi knew what he was doing was odd, especially when he found himself picking up the wrapper you threw out, and taking inhaling it, his eyes growing half lidded—he felt like a drug addict—drunk off of you . .

Fleeting touches would tick off his ever delusional mind, a small compliment could set him on overdrive and in the back of his head he knew he was growing addicted, a pit in his stomach grew as he felt slightly disgusted with himself, with the obscene and rather degrading things he'd do, just to get something touched by you.

Lucas stared at his friend, who seemed no better than dead, "Are ya' okay?" he asked, looking him up and down, "You look like a train-wreck", he stated half out of concern and half out of clear disdain and possibly curiosity, "Is it normal?", Yoichi spoke up, taking a gulp of air as he continued, "to want someone so badly that it's hard to explain—like—a part of me feels obsessed, like I feel like carving my own heart out and showing them just to prove my love wont be enough—they could claw out my fingernails—and from where I'm standing, I'd still look at them with only love . . . but at the same time I feel disgusted with the feelings I feel—", Yoichi kept blabbering on, until his friend shushed him, taking a sip of his drink as he jokingly replied, "I mean . . if you love them that much, then their clearly the one . . ."

Yoichi blanked out, as Lucas chuckled, he has no idea how much of his teasing words Yoichi would take to heart that day nor of it's lasting consequences . . .

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[lampridius]

hello!! may i request the professors (anaxa, dr ratio, mr reca) with a reader who is anxious and/or has panic attacks due to grades and exams or college/uni in general? i'm really struggling with it right now even though i'm trying to follow the fuck it we ball mindset lol. love your writing!! <3 feel free to ignore!

⋆.ೃ࿔🌸*:･ 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘬𝘢𝘪: ꒱ 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭 ✴ ───────── ❝ 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙪𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙢𝙨 ❞ －𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘶𝘴 ．．• ♡︎

─ .✦ 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘀: dr. ratio, anaxa, mr reca ──── .✦ 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴 | 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 ──── .✦ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: i do actually have the "fuck it we ball" mentality when it comes to exams and schoolwork in general (which is why i suck ass during exams)

at first, he’s… blunt. too blunt.

“if you already understand the concept, why panic?” he might ask, genuinely puzzled.

but once he sees that the fear isn’t about comprehension - it’s about control, about the overwhelming dread that you’re not good enough - he adjusts. drastically.

ratio starts watching for your signs: the restless tapping, the clipped words, the way your eyes flick to the clock like time is your enemy. and when a panic attack hits, he becomes alarmingly calm. clinical, even - but not in a cold way. he talks you through grounding techniques, breathing patterns, and gives you space without abandoning you.

he never mocks your fear. instead, he starts helping you prepare in more methodical ways - breaking your studying into manageable chunks, creating mock exams with absurdly encouraging notes scribbled in the margins.

and when he sees you freeze up again, near tears before a presentation, he surprises you by standing beside you, quietly saying: “intelligence isn't only about answers. it's about resilience. and you're already showing that.”

he respects your mind - but slowly, he makes it clear that he respects your heart just as much.

he notices it first in your silence. the way your shoulders stiffen when test papers are handed out. how you hold your breath, blink too often, clutch your pen like it might splinter in your grip.

anaxa doesn’t pry. instead, he begins gently creating structure around you - he walks slower when returning assignments, he lingers a second longer after class ends. and when you do panic - when the anxiety spikes sharp and fast, and you can barely think past the thudding in your chest - he doesn’t offer platitudes.

instead, he sits beside you, not saying much at first. just his steady presence. one hand resting loosely on his knee, quiet and grounding. eventually, he speaks in that low, careful voice of his.

“your grades don’t define your worth,” he says, like it’s a truth he’s memorized. “you’re more than the numbers. and you’re not in this alone.”

he starts offering you more office hours. not framed as extra help, but just time - time to go over things slower, to breathe, to learn without pressure. he’s patient when you forget, reassuring when you spiral, and proud in a quiet way when you get through a rough patch. he sees your effort. and he always, always honors it.

reca’s kindness is so effortless that it disarms you.

he’s the professor who notices when your hands are trembling as you hand in your test and who sends a quiet message after class, asking if you’re okay - not as an obligation, but because he truly cares.

he offers make-up assignments and study breaks without judgment. his classroom becomes a soft landing space, somewhere you know you can take a deep breath.

when your anxiety overwhelms you, he doesn’t try to logic it away. he listens. and then, he reminds you in the gentlest voice: “no grade is more important than your health. i want you to succeed - but not at the cost of your peace.”

he even starts holding small, quiet review sessions just for you and a few others. he brings tea. sits cross-legged on the desk. jokes a little too much but always with warmth.

he sees your potential - not just academically, but as someone who’s trying their best despite the weight of everything. and he never, ever lets you forget that that’s worth more than any letter on a transcript.

[bunny-jpeg]

the big, bad wolf(f)

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, hybrid au, wolf!toto, rabbit!reader, needy!toto, size difference/kink, missionary style, age difference (20s/50s)

a/n: this is part of a f1 hybrid au, i haven't stopped making bakery prompts, this is just something a tiny bit different! if have any ideas to share lemme know!

"my, my, what big teeth you have, mister wolff." you came close to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you sat down in his lap.

toto's wolf-like ears twitched at your words before he leaned in close to you. he cupped your face softly and gazed into your eyes with his dark ones, "teeth, my love." he held you a little closer to him and kissed at your arm, "i guess all the more to bite you with."

he watched your ears twitch a little. cute bunny behavior. he reached for one of your long ears and touched it gently. he watched you squirm a little and he chuckled. he knew you liked that.

toto could be a little scary. he stood much taller than you, and could easily pick you up. with pointed dark ears and a tail that you often rubbed up against when he didn't (or couldn't) give you attention.

you pressed your thumbs against his lips and giggled, "but you wouldn't eat someone like me. you love me too much." then kissed him on the lips.

an alarmingly younger bunny girlfriend and the rich older wold who loved her. it was a match made in heavy. he knew that it turned a few heads, especially when you were dressed in something cute.

he had to restructure your wardrobe so you weren't in softer colours every day, and everyone in the neighbourhood started to make assumptions. you were a university graduate, even though your degree was more wall decoration than actually used.

"i don't know, hase." he cupped your behind and pulled you closer to you. he buried his nose against you and took a small inhale, which was still enough to make the ticklish bunny in his lap jolt. he said as he held onto you tighter, "be still."

you felt a warmth in your body as you looked at him. eventually his face were between your breasts. the prettiest breasts toto had ever seen. he groaned.

you knew your older boyfriend was craving rabbit. you held his head and pressed your breasts up against him. he groaned and held onto you harder.

"does the big bad wolf want a taste of bunny?" you said lowly and hear him deeply exhale. you were going to be the death of him. you tilted his head to look at you and you giggled at the sight of him, "c'mon, honey, let's get you into bed." then got up off his lap, but you didn't get too far. as your wolf lover was close behind you.

your bunny ears twitched a little bit, and toto wanted to yank on them while you rode him. he hated that he felt a slave to instinct. but it was hard not to when his lover was just soft in all the ways he was tough. he was surprised a little bunny like you could take someone like him.

he knew he was so much bigger and had a domineering power over most. but you with those cute little ears, beautiful eyes, and cheerful demeanor, toto was a a panting dog.

when you got close enough to the bed and tried to get your slippers off, toto pushed you onto the bed ass up and you made a small panicked noise as you hit the bed then felt the weight of your lover on top of you.

you yelped and kicked your legs out a little bit and toto had his hands under you and was groping at your choice heavily. he wanted to feel his lovely rabbit.

"don't tear my clothes, you animal!" you kicked out a little more and felt your lover get off of your back and slowly take off your clothes. while the clothes weren't particularity expensive, it was a good pair of t-shirt and sleeping shorts (both stolen from your lover). it was hard to find comfort in most clothes these days!

before he took your sports bra on, he got you onto your back and groped at your chest. he shuddered a little bit at the sight of you, almost naked for him.

"such a pretty rabbit." he noticed the twitch in your ears and he rubbed his clothed cock up against your barely clothed front, "beautiful." he said, "i could put you between my teeth and just bite down. but i'd rather make you cum." something wild ran through toto when he was with you.

soon you were naked and you began to help toto out of his clothes. his large hands on you as you unbuttoned his dark blue shirt. your hands were a little shakey as you undid every last button.

toto eyed you carefully before he was able to take the shirt off his shoulders. you whined a little bit as the sight of you, but he took you by the chin and pulled you in for a heated kiss.

"so lovely." he said, his lips so close to yours. he watched you squirm a little bit as you panted heavily against his lips. he felt like a dream, you felt heat do its rounds in your core.

both striped as naked as you could get. toto kept you on your back with your legs spread for him. he licked his lips, his gaze felt hot. almost like a predator. he leaned into your touch when you ran your hand through his dark hair.

"you should let it go grey." you remarked.

he chuckled as he invaded your space more, his eyes level with yours with his chest pressed against you, "no, no, hase. me all grey and you in those soft sweaters. people will get alarmed."

you giggled, "as if you're not like a foot taller than me. the little bunny and the big bad wolf!" then held onto his shoulders as he got his hands on your hips.

his larger cock pressed up against you. you shuddered a little bit at the feeling of it against you. you gasped when he inched it inside of you. his dark eyes on you as you squirmed a little bit.

"are you okay, hase? not too much pain?" he might be a wolf, and you might be a bunny, but he didn't want to harm you. you were his perfect rabbit. he clutched onto your hips as he moved himself against you.

he slowly got as deep as he could go and he watched your expression grow softer. a little blissed out as he got his entire length into you. you squirmed a little and felt the heat in your body grow.

you were beautiful under him. like the sweetest fruit on the tree, or the most tender rabbit in the field. of course, toto had to sink his teeth into your shoulder as you moved against him. he watched your toes curl and your legs kick out from the hot feeling of it all.

"my rabbit." he said, his voice tinged with a desperate want, "i need you. i need you every day of my life. you excite me in so many ways. you look beautiful under me."

you glowed a little under his attention and felt your stomach do small flips as he moved against you. your cute little cunt took him perfectly. everything about you was always so much smaller than the big scary predator you called a lover. the hungry wolf that was desperate for pretty bunny cunt. but, toto would always take care of you! he wasn't a crazy person.

he knew that he had to take care of his little rabbit, even if that meant thrusting up into her wildly. that made keeping your pussy nice was wet with his cum. he rutted against you and snapped his jaws a little from the pleasure of it all.

"my beautiful rabbit." he purred as he continued to move up against you. you fit him perfectly, he remembered when it was a bit of a struggle. but it wasn't your fault, you were just made so small for him. but nothing a little training wouldn't have fixed. you whimpered and whined as he fucked you.

"please, toto." you whined as you arched your back a little. pressed yourself further against him as he got a good look at every curve on your sweet body.

he once told a friend of his that bunnies fucked the best. the cutest little hybrids, pussies can take a beating and toto loved yours most of all. got him addicted to sweet cunt and cute smiles. he knew if you were on top, you'd be bouncing on him with that same blissed out look.

toto knew he was far gone with you. he knew that he wanted to make you his little bunny bride. then he'd make sure that nothing else could have you the way he did. except maybe a toy for when he wasn't home, something to occupy that cunt of yours. but, nothing else. no one else.

he was a wolf possessive of his little pack.

he continued to brush up against the softest parts of you, your pussy like a grip around his achy cock. he could feel his heartbeat in his throat the more he fucked you. he was egged on by your sweet sounds and your soft breasts up against him.

he gripped onto your hips tighter and heard you let out a sweet, almost sugary moan as he moved up against you. his cock hit all the right places for you. he knew he was going to leave you pretty insides all bruised, but you loved it.

you love when sex with him hurt a little, a reminder for days of how well he took care of you. he pressed into you further, his lips found yours as the two of you feverishly made out.

the bed squeaked under you, and it paired like a symphony with your beautiful muffled moans. when he broke the kiss you panted heavily.

"you pant like a dog." he said in a hot tone that left a shiver through you. he knew you were getting close. he could tell by how tense you were and the expression across your face.

his pace continued and soon you were holding onto him tightly. your arms hung around his neck as you grasped the back of his neck. you held onto him tighter via your legs as he thrusted as hard as he could. the bed moved under you and you felt a sense of euphoria when you climaxed.

"ah! toto!!" you whimpered as you came, leaving his cock fully slick with your wetness down to his balls. you clung to him like a lifeline while he battered the back of your sweet pussy. with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside you as well.

he marked your pretty insides with his cum and heard you whimper loudly into his ear. he eventually slowed to a stop before he was able to catch his breath. pleasure ran through his body like a lifeline. he tried to stop but your pussy called him back.

he was only able to stop himself when he saw how tired you look. bunnies fucked well, but they got easily tired out. all that energy in such a small package.

"do you mind if i take you again?" he asked softly as he took you in his arms. he watched you nod and say yes softly before he put you on your stomach and held your hips up.

he still needed his rabbit. he needed to feel your gooey insides and get himself off. you were so perfect for him, letting him use you while you get comfortable on your shared bed. he slipped his cock into you once more and knew that he would never get enough of his sweet bunny's cunt. <3

[mywritersmind]

SAVIOR - LN4

pt.2

summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.

OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)

listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.

word count : 1878

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.

The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.

Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.

He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.

The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.

“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.

“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.

“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.

“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.

Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.

I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.

“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.

He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”

I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.

“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”

I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”

It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.

“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.

“Aw.”

“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”

I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”

He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.

He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.

“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”

“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.

I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.

“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!

“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.

“As good as I could make it.”

I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”

He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”

I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”

He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.

“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”

He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”

I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”

“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.

“No?”

He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”

I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”

He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”

He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”

I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”

The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.

I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”

“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.

“So ready.”

We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.

I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.

“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.

He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.

He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.

We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”

“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”

He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”

I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”

“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”

I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.

“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.

Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”

“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”

Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”

“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.

Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.

I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”

His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”

I nod, “Yours?”

“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.

“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.

He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”

“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”

He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”

“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.

“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”

The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”

[rechorites]

ao3

The first promise Hermione ever makes to Draco is an innocuous one.

He’s been annoying her all morning: drumming his fingers against his desk; fussing at the tea trolley about being out of cauldron cakes; tapping his quill against parchment in a way that is both highly irritating and also bad for the quill, by the way. They’ve only been working at the Ministry together for three months, still both considered fresh new employees, not yet worthy of any serious projects.

It’s—Well, Hermione’s bored too. If she’s honest.

“Malfoy, I swear, if you just stop making noise for ten minutes, I’ll take you up to the cafe and get you a bloody cauldron cake.”

He shuts up after that, so quiet it’s almost eerie. Hermione finishes reading the report she’s working on (23 mistakes! She’s not sure how any of these so-called ‘managers’ got hired in the first place, truth be told) and puts down her quill.

She tries to forget about Malfoy’s presence, as she always does.

It’s very hard when he’s suddenly looming over her.

“Can I help you, Malfoy?” she asks, not looking up at him. He’s very tall, she’s noticed lately.

“I believe I was promised a cauldron cake.”

Hermione huffs. She was rather hoping he’d forgotten.

“Fine. But we’ve got only got 15 minutes before the meeting with Transportation, so you’d better not dawdle.”

“I don’t dawdle, Granger.” He gives her a smirk.

She gives him a look that she hopes comes off as scathing, and not at all charmed.

They are, in fact, late to the meeting with Transportation.

---

“Granger, if you send this one owl for me, please…”

The please is tacked on as an afterthought, the sound of it from Malfoy’s mouth unfamiliar in the extreme.

“If I send this owl for you, Malfoy, everyone’s going to get in touch with me about this bloody… shindig.”

“Exactly, Granger.”

She frowns at him. Malfoy had been much less irritating lately, in general, and sometimes she found they actually got along.

“What do I get in return, then?” she asks reluctantly, halfway ready to just send the owl to stop his wheedling.

Malfoy smiles devilishly at her. “What would you like, Granger?”

There are quite a few inappropriate responses she can think of to that question, the way he’s been brushing his hand on her shoulder when he walks past her desk the past few weeks, the figure he cuts in his well-tailored robes. She blushes, and his smile seems to get wider.

“You’ll take Percy’s reports for the next… three weeks,” she says, scrambling for something politic.

“My pleasure.” Not enough of an ask, then.

“…and you can answer every stupid request that gets sent to me for the next week.”

He gives her a confused look. “Do you get many of those?”

She laughs. “Are you serious? Malfoy, I get about five a day. Don’t you?”

“Not a one.” He swings his feet up to the desk, looking at her amused. “You’re not scary enough, Granger. That’s why. I promise that after this week, you’ll never get another stupid request again.”

Hermione purses her lips in disbelief. That’s a big promise.

“I’ll hold you to it, Malfoy.”

---

“For fuck’s sake, Boot, if you come and bother Granger again I’m going to turn you into a Blast-Ended Skrewt and shove you down the lift shaft.”

Hermione smiles behind her cup of tea. Malfoy’s threats had become much more amusing throughout the week, escalating as the array of people who thought she knew everything about everything—which, to be fair, she often did—sent owls, were disappointed, sent more owls, and finally came to visit her when Malfoy’s hastily (and rudely) penned notes weren’t enough.

She’s grown to quite like him, actually.

“Cauldron cake, Malfoy?” she asks, pulling one out of the drawer that she’d brought down earlier from the cafe. The tea trolley on their floor always runs out by nine, and Malfoy was fastidiously on time, never a minute early.

He plucks it out of her hands and sits down heavily on his chair. It squeaks alarmingly.

“Bloody hell, Granger. What is wrong with these people? These—” He narrows his eyes. “These men.”

Hermione sighs. “You tell me, Malfoy. Ever since I started here they’ve sent owls.” She frowns. “I try to be helpful, I mean, it’s good that they’re asking about the Muggle world. But Terry’s dad’s a Muggle, so I’m not sure how he doesn’t know what a helicopter is.”

Malfoy looks at her suspiciously. “Are you—Do you seriously not know?”

“Know what?”

“Granger—” He gives her an odd look, disbelief clouding his handsome features. “They fancy you.”

Hermione snorts, running her quill under a particularly poorly worded statement. “You’re having a laugh, Malfoy.”

“I’m having a—” Malfoy’s eyebrows raised high in vexation. “I’m very much not laughing, actually. All these poor bloody wizards fancy you and you don’t even know it. Salazar, we’ll have to put a note on the door.”

“A note? Saying what? All those wizards trying to woo me, please form an orderly line?” She scoffs. “You’re off your trolley, Malfoy.”

“So you’d be interested, then? If one of them asked you out?” he presses.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Malfoy.” She stops writing. “I mean, I’d probably consider it. No one’s asked me out since Ron, not properly.”

He stares at her again, looking dumbfounded, his blond hair falling perfectly—as usual—and those bloody unfairly long eyelashes wide. He’s got nice lips. Not that she’s been looking.

“Go out with me.” He says it so quickly she almost misses it, her quill scratching to a stop and leaving a big blotch on the page.

“Shit.” She reaches for her wand, wanting to get rid of the mark before it settles through the page. Her brain processes the ink faster than his question, the words only beginning to penetrate once her wand is in her hand.

“Good grief, Granger, it’s not that serious. If you want to say no, just say no, you don’t need to hex me.”

“Hex—Go out—What?” She blinks at him, the page clean once again. Did he seriously just ask—

“Go out with me. Tonight, even.”

Hermione gapes at him rather unattractively for several seconds before shutting her mouth with a click. _“_Malfoy, if this is some kind of joke…”

“It’s not a joke. And even if it was, those tossers will stop owling you if they think you’re dating me, and I did promise, so…” He looks remarkably earnest, all of a sudden, as though he really hopes she might go out with him. Hermione feels something strange happen in her stomach, like she’s swallowed too much butterbeer all at once.

“I—Alright, then.” He grins, this wide, self-satisfied smile that makes Hermione feel—Well. She feels a bit giddy, actually. Lightheaded. She can’t help but smile back, a nervous little thing that feels out of place on her face.

Maybe someone’s poisoned their cauldron cakes.

---

“Hermione! Long time, no see!” calls out Cormac McLaggen from across the Quidditch stand.

Shit. Fuck. Hermione looks around desperately for someone to talk to that might save her from this interaction, but Draco, Ginny and Harry are all playing in the interdepartmental match, and Ron’s off canoodling with Lavender in some dark corner.

She sighs. “Hi, Cormac. How are you?” The players are gathering on the field below, Draco’s blond head talking animatedly to Ginny, presumably in their usual snark. He glances up in her direction, quick, and then looks back. She can’t see from here, but if she had to guess, she’d say he was glowering at Cormac.

They’ve been dating for two months, now. It’s going quite well, she thinks. The thought of it makes cheeks hurt from the want of a smile. They haven’t told anyone officially, yet, and certainly Cormac McLaggen is not going to be the first to know.

He sits down next to her, too close for comfort. She scowls down at his leg.

“You look lovely, Hermione, really nice.” He turns down to the pitch. “Supporting anyone in particular today? Last I heard you’d broken up with Weasley.” Hermione rolls her eyes to the sky.

True to Malfoy’s word, the influx of stupid questions, inquiries, and bother from the wizards of the Ministry had stopped rather abruptly after that week. There were several… rumours (truths, in fact, but that was their business and no one else’s,) circulating about her and Draco that stopped most of them, and the others were quickly dealt with by an Incineration Charm.

She let Draco burn them. He seemed to enjoy it.

“I—I’m here with Ginny, and Harry, and Draco. Why are you here?”

“I’ve just joined the League Headquarters. Would have played, of course, but they said it wouldn’t be fair for the other departments. You know, having a former professional on the team.” Godric, he was such a twat.

Below, they release the balls, the Snitch hovering up into the sky, the players all kicking off to scattered applause. Draco starts circling immediately, eyes scanning. He looks at her every few seconds, and each time he does it sends a shiver down her spine.

“Ginny’s a professional, and they let her play."

“Right. Well, next match, then.”

“Right,” she says doubtfully. Hermione lets the awkwardness linger for a minute, hopeful that it might spur Cormac to piss off. She’s never particularly liked Quidditch, but it’s certainly more enjoyable when you have someone to watch. Draco looks good in his Quidditch robes, truth be told.

He stayed over for the first time last night, and well—She’d rather like a repeat performance.

Cormac clears his throat, and Hermione feels her face twitch in irritation. Suddenly Draco is hovering several feet away, back to them like he’s looking for the Snitch, definitely within earshot.

“Listen, Hermione. If you’re not seeing anyone—”

“I am,” she says abruptly. “Seeing someone.” Draco’s broom tilts up in the air, floating. She can practically see his grin through his perfect hair. She can’t help but smile.

“Oh? Who is it?”

Hermione bites her lip. She should tell her friends first, surely.

But she’s also certain Cormac will absolutely go away right now if she tells him.

“Draco, actually.”

The look on Cormac’s face is so, so worth it.

---

Her left leg is tangled in Draco’s sheets (green, predictably, which she’s teased him about several times already and has no intention of stopping) and his arm is slung across her waist, warm and comforting. She can feel sleep dragging at the corners of her mind.

“Hermione,” he murmurs, low enough that it wouldn’t have woken her.

“Mm?” she replies, eyes still closed.

“Promise me something?” he asks quietly. She tilts her head up so she can look at him through one eye, his hair all mussed and out-of-place, mouth pink.

“You’ll tell me, won’t you? When you get sick of me?” Hermione lets out a huff of air and moves closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Draco.” She opens her eyes fully now, brushing her eyelash against his cheek, a butterfly kiss. “I won’t get sick of you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[hyunebunx]

💛 w/ felix please!!

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333

Sunsets were your absolute favorite.

It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.

Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.

Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”

Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”

You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”

“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.

The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.

“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.

Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”

Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.

You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.

Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.

“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”

His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.

You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.

The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.

“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.

You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”

Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.

Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.

There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.

When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.

The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.

And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view. 

[osamucide]

DAZAI HCS! ⊹

LAST UPDATE: DEC 19

cw: talk of mental illness and substance use/abuse, speculation about Dazai’s f’ed up past+trauma, Dazai-typical references to suicide, references to self harm, probably a lot of projection on the author’s part

reid: i feel like yapping about Dazai tonight so here’s a non-exhaustive list of general headcanons i have about him. no word count because i’ll probably update this periodically lol

he does not listen to music from this century. he just doesn’t. not that he goes out of his way not to, he’s just drawn to a certain sound that only older music seems to have—I think The Smiths, Blondie, Tears For Fears, The Smashing Pumpkins, King Crimson, and Led Zeppelin are among his favorite artists

I think he also really enjoys classic jazz/blues/bebop music—Charles Mingus, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, etc.

he’s anemic. I’m of the firm belief that Kunikida buys him a 100 ct bottle of iron tablets every 100 days which Dazai always graciously accepts. however, he only actually takes them when he gives enough of a shit to (which is not often) so the bottles are just accumulating on his bathroom sink/in the cupboard beneath

nail biter, cuticle picker, hair twirler, thigh bouncer, etc. I don’t think he really sits still unless it’s absolutely necessary

children love him, much to his dismay. they think he’s entertaining. he thinks they’re like puppies (and he canonically hates dogs). he won’t treat them badly, but he’s just not super interested in interacting with them. unwilling older brother vibe when faced with them. shithead kids can stoke his rage much faster than Chuuya ever could

he cannot take care of a fucking plant. has one succulent in his apartment. it’s surviving out of pure unadulterated spite. he hasn’t watered it in over a year

wearer of funky socks. his favorites are either the ones that say "I love my job ha ha just kidding" or the custom ones Yosano got him as a gag gift one year for white elephant at the office christmas party (they have Kunikida’s rage face on them)

really sad that, despite his criminal record being scrubbed clean, he is still banned from driving in the nation of Japan for the rest of his life because he wants a Ford Explorer so bad

PROFOUNDLY SOUND KNOWLEDGE OF MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY

he’s fluent in Japanese and English, proficient in French and Italian, and learning Russian

I think he also enjoys learning math/researching random shit/reading anything he can in his free time when he feels up to it. he never received a formal education and his IQ is through the roof—his yearning for academia is almost like an itch he has to scratch every once in a while. also, he just likes knowing things

he never learned how to ride a bike. wahhhh wahh

BPD king. look at him. my beautiful princess with a disorder. I doubt he’s diagnosed but he strongly suspects it seeing as he’s so self-aware; if not borderline, he just assumes he has severe PTSD. either way, he really won’t do anything other than what he already knows about how to manage it

along the same lines—he’s been a functional alcoholic since an alarmingly young age (I’m talking 16-17). I think it probably got a lot worse post-defection when he was underground, but he hardly had to function then anyway; he gets somewhat better after joining the Agency but still has a dependence, it’s just not severe enough to debilitate him

has a bin of art supplies in his apartment. he only ever pulls them out once every few months, but he rather enjoys painting and wouldn’t mind getting better at it

master at darts. don’t take him to a bar where there’s a dartboard. he will stand in front of it all night and obliterate everyone who challenges him

insatiable sweet tooth. he especially loves anything maple, butter pecan, or butterscotch he’s a grandpa

UPDATE.1

I love to headcanon that he has a glass eye!!! and that the bandages around his head in the dark era were some legitimate injury. he likes to pop it out as a party trick/to weird Kunikida out

he feeds the stray cats and kittens that linger around the ADA dorms. he probably spends some of his grocery money on the fancy wet canned food and leaves it out with a big plastic bowl of water. sometimes sits and watches them eat and likes to give them little scratches if they trust him enough to come rub up on his legs. they’re sort of to him as the orphans were to Odasaku, and it makes him feel closer to his deceased friend

on the note of grocery shopping—he only goes when Atsushi or Kunikida drag him along. keeps his list relatively the same from trip to trip: canned crab, cigarettes, bandages, a few cases of beer, sake, instant ramen, ice cream (particularly butter pecan), paper towels, and 3-in-1 shampoo when he needs it. Kunikida forces vegetables upon him (“put it in the ramen so you don’t die of heart disease”) but they almost always end up rotting to mush in his fridge. he steals his toilet paper from the ADA bathrooms/supply closets or bothers Atsushi and Kyoka for spare rolls when he’s out

religiously orders drinks from the cafe on his way in and out of work. on mornings he usually gets a latte with plenty of sugar and some sort of flavor; in the evenings he probably gets an iced flavored tea to mix or chase his sake with when he gets home

always has a pocket knife on him. probably one he got in his mafia days, or, it’s at least a habit/security he picked up from then

takes a lot of night walks. he doesn’t sleep well, so I think he probably wanders out tipsy with his pack of cigarettes in the wee hours of the morning and scuttles around to tire himself out

UPDATE.2

two words: medical trauma. I know some people get iffy when it comes to speculation about what Mori did/didn’t/may/may not have subjected him too as a young teenager (and believe me I have a lot of thoughts) but I definitely headcanon that Dazai was used as a little bit of a lab rat/sedated and coerced to some degree when it came to turning him into a killing machine. as a result, he’s got a fear of medical settings. after his surgery during the cannibalism arc? I know he got that phone back and was like “Tanizaki get me out of here right neow”

I think sweet little old ladies probably love him and he loves them too. always feels like he strikes up the best small talk with them. will help load groceries into their cars for them. he gets all smiley and stuff when they call him “sweetheart” “honey” “dear” or remark how handsome he is and about his hypothetical girlfriend must be so lucky

he can throw knives with pinpoint accuracy from a pretty impressive distance. he’s a little less accurate with his handgun at long range/with moving targets but HE’S GETTING BETTER

has like a 3.5 ft vertical jump at his best. like why are you a detective when the Lakers need a center

UPDATE.3

lowkey a god at shoulder massages? he’ll meander behind Kunikida at the office and rub his shoulders like a boxing coach trying to warm up his athlete mostly to try to piss him off but Kunikida totally just melts into it after smacking his hands away a couple times. does the same thing to Atsushi but Atsushi just starts fucking purring and almost passes out

I was talking about this with Kal a second ago—but I think he and Ranpo love acting so gay at the office also to piss Kunikida off. they also ask him if they can be allowed to go outside and play

cigarette of choice is a Marlboro Black. I think someone has said/alluded to this before but I can’t remember who. if you’re reading this you’re right

on top of his overflowing piles of iron supplements, I think he also has an unreasonable amount of reusable water bottles. reason being Kunikida again because I just know Dazai doesn’t drink enough water and Kunikida’s always buying him a fancy new cup to try to keep him enthusiastic about being hydrated. it doesn’t work but his favorite one to date is his orange hydroflask (sometimes he brings a vodka soda to work in it. Kunikida is thrilled until he realizes his partner is tipsy) (Kunikida wishes he could fire him)

on that note—other than sake, I think his liquor of choice is vodka. I do not think dark liquor agrees with him but ultimately he will drink whatever gets him drunk. and so ensue the Sunday scaries (and the every other day scaries)

[hoggobblin]

Birthday Wish

"Make a wish!"

You laugh and say, "I'm a little too old for wishes." But you do have a wish in mind as you blow out the candles. It's something you're ashamed to want, but you crave it deep down. You have for years. It won't ever come true though so you see no harm in indulging your most shameful fantasies in the privacy of your mind.

"So, what did you wish for?" Your friend asks with a grin.

"If I tell you, it won't come true," You answer with a matching grin and cut the cake.

A hot tingle runs through you as you place your slice in front of you, the innards of the cake stained a deep purple-blue. It's a blueberry cake. You don't even like blueberries, but all your friends think you do because of how much blueberry flavored things you eat. Muffins, pies, cakes, pastries, gum, candy, juice, even just bowlfuls of ripe blueberries every day. You dig into your cake and, like you always do, imagine the juice bursting in your mouth and filling you up.

You've imagined this so often that it feels real. The sweetness overpowers your senses and you swallow what feels like gallons of thick, syrupy juice. You feel full just from one bite.

"Are you feeling okay?" Your friend stares at you with wide, concerned eyes.

"Yeah?" You stare back confused. "Why do you ask?"

"You're turning blue!" Another one of your friends says.

"What?!" You drop your fork and cross your eyes, your heart suddenly in your throat. Sure enough, you can see a splotch of blue on the tip of your nose. You look down at your hands in horror. Inky blue is staining your fingertips and spreading with alarming speed.

"Oh no. No no no." You didn't think this would actually happen!

"You're getting fat!" One friend yells.

"No, you're swelling up!" The other answers.

You jump out of your chair and almost fall over from the unfamiliar weight of your swelling belly. Your butt and crotch round out into a smooth curve to merge with your belly, your pants are straining to contain your sudden girth and the waist line is digging deep into you like rubberbands around a melon.

"Don't look at me!" You beg but all of your friends keep staring.

Your belly hits the table and your ass knocks over the chair behind with a clatter as you keep swelling like a balloon. Your shirt is growing tight as the swell reaches your chest and arms. You start to turn run away but already you have to waddle because your hips have been absorbed into your round gut and your crotch is push low between your thighs. It's as you turn that the elastic of your pants snap and with a thwomp your lower body fills out, free at last.

Your closest friend now has a grin on their face. They come around the table and stands in front of you, blocking your exit from this humiliating scene.

"Surprise, Birthday Berry."

You don't know it but you blush a bright violet.

Without asking, they prod and slap your belly, shaking up the juices in you and send you stumbling a few wobbling steps back.

"How many times have you wished to swell up into a juicy round ball? Every time you ate those sweets we gave you? You really thought we wouldn't notice the way you were moaning and soaking wet just from eating blueberries?"

"N-no, I don't- stop that!" You try to slap their hands away but you can't reach around yourself anymore. You can barely even bring your arms forward, you're forced by your ballooning body into a starfish pose with your limbs splayed out and your crotch pushing well below your knees, your chest lifts up into your field of view as your head starts to sink.

Behind you, more hands grope at you and you don't stifle your moans in time.

"Don't worry, Birthday Berry," Your friend grins, "We'll give you everything you wished for."

Your crotch finally hits the floor and you yelp in panic as your feet lifts off into the air. You're still growing alarmingly fast, your head floats above your friends and you can feel one of the walls press against your side. You know you're getting close to the ceiling. You whimper, afraid you're about to pop.

And then it stops. The juice calms within you and you're the perfect ripeness, swollen and taunt as a drum on the brink of snapping. Then hands shove against you and you're rolled forward onto your belly. You cry out and flap your hands, but it's not use. The momentum carries you forward and you catch a glimpse of your friends as they start to laugh at you.

"Try not to explode before the party's over!"

[uh-oh-its-bird]

Offshoot of my "team Ro time travels to the founders era" post because @prinzgnomeovonchaos infected me with brain rot in the notes

So buckle in baby it's time for

Sakumo and babyKashi time traveling to the warring states ✨️

So first thing to get out of the way; Modern Hatake's and warring states era Hatake's do not hold up to the same standards.

The Hatake's during the states were a very small clan with a very big reputation. Hailing from Iron, they were an almost famous wild clan even all the way in fire country. Distantly related to the Inuzuka's but leaning more towards wolves than dogs.

They had a proper kekkei genkai and everything, unnaturally fast and strong, often born with some form of enhanced senses— be it smell, sight, taste, or even touch. Their white chakra fed into it, and they'd feed their chakra with diets of raw meat and the occasional light cannibalism during some special clan celebrations and rituals.

Unfortunatley Sakumo knows very little about the above because he was very young when his clan was pretty much all wiped out. He was raised by the only other survivor, his grandmother, who was pretty young herself when the clan got wiped, and unfortunatley was never all too concious of many of the rituals and traditions of her clan until it was too late.

Sakumo grew up to village standards and was mostly declawed because of it, and Kakashi is only doubly so. And with that dulling of all the different traditions and specific diets also came the slow fading of their bloodline limit, which was already pretty subtle if you didn't know what you're looking for.

Anyways moving on, and if you want more details for my headcanons ab warring states Hatake's vs modern standard Hatake's look at my other time travel post bc I talk ab it more there.

So Kakashi is like 6 (holy shit he's a BABY baby)

Google keeps giving me conflicting numbers for Sakumo's age at his death so we're just gonna shrug and say he's in his early 30's.

Then for the founders;

Madara (23)

Hashirama (23)

Izuna (19)

Tobirama (18)

Sakumo is staring at these guys going through it bc they are BABIES to him. And like look, he's used to working with or even occasionally under people much younger than him, but like. Oh man that's the shodai hokage. And he's like a toddler.

(He's a 23 year old man but Sakumo is kind of having a crisis so he can't register that)

So like. All the founders have major daddy issues, right? Like we can all agree that's plausible? I'm so sorry I just think it'd be *really fucking funny* if they look at Sakumo and just kinda. Yeah.

You know what I mean.

Anyways;

No idea how they got there!! This is set maybe a week before Sakumo offed himself but now he can't kill himself bc that'd mean abandoning Kakashi to the fucking warring states.

Kakashi fits the warring states standards alarmingly well actually. Honestly I think even for that time period he's still scarily young to be on the field. People are giving Sakumo looks like 'it's so hard what we've been forced to do to our children, the battles we've pushed them into, the things they've seen and done all too young'

Sakumo is going *hrrg.* and having a good long look in the mirror actually. Proper crisis, lots of guilt, Kakashi should not be out in the field this young and at least before he was mostly getting baby missions but now they're stranded in time and keep running head first into trouble.

I want Izuna and Kakashi to fight and even though Kakashi absoloutley should NOT win that battle I want him to win just so that Madara and Tobirama can make fun of him for losing to an actual child

Izuna is mortified he wants that brat DEAD

Uhh I have some more but I'm at work and actually hit post too early on this post so I had to come back to rush add all these edits bc I meant for it to stay a draft I could keep adding too later. So I'll just come add more later fr

[belit0]

College boy hcs for obito, shisui and itachi pleaseeeeee

This is out of the HS AU and the Mafia AU, different universe,

DIFFERENT UNIVERSE!!!

Obito

Major: Education or Psychology. Not because it was a lifelong dream, but because he had one good professor and suddenly wanted to be that for someone else.

Has zero sense of time. Shows up late, coffee in one hand, charger hanging out of his hoodie pocket like a tail.

Carries emotional support snacks everywhere. If you look remotely upset, he's offering you a half-crushed granola bar from the bottom of his backpack.

Somehow always involved in campus drama even though he tries to stay out of it. “I swear I was just getting some papers and suddenly there was a breakup happening.”

Stares off during class with the kind of intensity that makes you think he’s solving an emotional crisis. He’s actually thinking about whether fish get bored.

Gets crushes like they’re seasonal allergies—but he’s painfully loyal once it’s real. Has a sixth sense for when you’re stressed, but will offer help in the most awkward way possible.

Very warm, very physical. Leans on your shoulder while texting. Hugs like he means it. Has no idea how charming that is.

Shisui

Major: Political Science, minor in Sociology. He runs for every student election and actually wins because people like him.

Speaks well, dresses well, somehow looks good in those dumb free orientation T-shirts.

You’re never sure if he’s flirting or just being nice. Spoiler: it’s both. Always both.

The guy who gets roped into every group project because “he’s reliable.” Secretly resents it but shows up every time with color-coded notes.

Would bring you coffee without you asking and act like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, he’s been memorizing your order since week two.

Is alarmingly perceptive. Will call you out gently for not sleeping enough. Offers to quiz you for an exam and somehow makes it fun.

Never brags about anything, but his name gets dropped a lot. “Shisui helped me pass stats,” “Shisui got our club funding,” “Shisui knows a guy.”

Smiles with his whole face. Shrugs off compliments but gets a little quiet if you really mean it.

Itachi

Major: Philosophy or Literature. People either worship him or are scared of him. Often both.

Speaks in complete sentences. Has a notes app full of existential questions and grocery lists.

Shows up to class early and leaves last. Somehow never makes a sound opening his laptop.

Always looks like he just came back from an all-nighter. He did. But he also read three novels and wrote a paper that’ll ruin the grading curve.

Not on social media. When asked why, he says something cryptic like, “Too loud.”

If you sit next to him, he’ll let you copy his notes but won’t say much. Then you’ll get a book recommendation in your locker the next day.

Makes dry jokes no one catches until three seconds later. Occasionally says something deadpan that has people wheezing.

Surprisingly polite. Opens doors, hands back your pen, thanks the barista. Doesn't make a show of it—just quietly decent.

If he likes you, he won’t flirt. He’ll just... start showing up more. Your favorite café. Your favorite spot in the library. Then maybe one day he’ll say “You seem tired. I brought tea.” and that’s that.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

So Sorry...

Thank you to Plant's @anonymoushouseplantfan Anon who created the January 2023 "Royal Family Apology." May I suggest that we reblog, share, and update that master list of apologies as often as the victimized saint reinvents & rebrands herself. Here's my contribution with the original linked below.

Running List of Apologies to the Saint Rachel Meghan Markle

(Updated for 2025)

I’m sorry your boyfriend, a prince, didn’t explain how to courtesy to The Queen 

I’m sorry we respected your boundaries by not hugging on first meeting

I'm sorry we didn't require "H" to know you for a minimum of five (5) years (customary for other family members) BEFORE engagement

I’m sorry you were the first girlfriend to be invited to spend Christmas at Sandringham with Queen Elizabeth II and family

I'm sorry Charles honored your wishes to see and spend the night with William's family at Anmer Hall during his family's private Christmas celebrations

I'm sorry that Catherine (heavily pregnant and suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum) prepared meals for you (in her kitchen) according to your dietary requests

I'm sorry you told the world that members of the British Royal Family had been "wonderful," specifically Catherine

I'm sorry you told us the same lie you told your first husband's family (the Engleson's): "you are the family I never had"

I’m sorry we hid your alarmingly shady past from the public and wiped most of it off the internet

I’m sorry we lied to the press about the existence of the nude pictures you took of yourself, easily available on the internet

I’m sorry we helped perpetuate your lie that you have two (2) degrees: ‘international relations & theatre’ when Northwestern actually awarded you one (1) degree=one (1) diploma: a  Bachelor of Science (B.S.) in Communications

I’m sorry we helped perpetuate your lie that you were employed by the US Embassy in Argentina instead of enrolled in a 5-6 week program organised by the uncle (Mike) you refused to invite to the wedding and paid for by the father you refuse to "show up" for

I’m sorry we didn’t silence you by making you sign NDAs, therefore allowing you to secure multi-million-dollar deals and projects

I'm sorry we didnt insist that you maintain employment as an actress and blogger, similar to Sophie (Prince Edward's wife) who maintained her employment as an entrepreneur and business owner

I'm sorry we didn't require you to become a British citizen as a condition of your service to Queen and to country

I’m sorry we granted you, an American, your own coat of arms from the 500-year-old College of Arms

I’m sorry we granted you (a divorcee) the privilege of marrying in the historic Royal Chapel at Windsor Castle, a courtesy denied to divorcee Charles, the future king of England and his bride, Camilla

I'm sorry we (Charles and Queen Elizabeth) created a British gospel choir and invited a black American guest preacher for your wedding ceremony

I’m sorry we spent £32 million on your heavily promoted wedding 

I’m sorry we acquiesced to you inviting celebrities you’d never met, and only one (1) blood relative (Markle/Ragland) to your wedding

I’m sorry the future king stepped in to walk you down the aisle 

I’m sorry we loaned you the use of the historic diamond-encrusted bandeau tiara

I’m sorry we gifted your husband the titles of Duke and Duchess of Sussex, Earl and Countess of Dumbarton and Baron and Baroness Kilkeel

I’m sorry we spent £1 million on your first-year wardrobe 

I’m sorry we spent £4 million-a-year on your security

I’m sorry for any jewellery gifted to you, including a pair of pearl earrings from Queen Elizabeth II and two (2) diamonds from Princess Diana's private collection

I’m sorry we advised you twice not to wear those blood diamonds gifted by Jamal Khashoggi’s murderer

I’m sorry we appointed you several advisers and assistants, along with a plethora of written documents to ease the transition to royal life

I'm sorry we believed you when you were offered the Queen's handpicked counselors which you rejected in favor of "H" training you

I’m sorry The Queen invited you to a theatre charity and overnight engagement less than four weeks after marrying "H," the earliest ever joint engagement with The Queen

I’m sorry we introduced you to world leaders, high-ranking officials and A-list celebrities

I’m sorry we’re the reason George Clooney, Oprah Winfrey and Elton John know your name

I'm sorry you didnt invite Oprah Winfrey to visit your Cotswolds Farmhouse

I’m sorry we gave you your own independent team of staff and that prime office space

I’m sorry you only undertook 72 days of royal work

I'm sorry for the dozens of international trips you took as a member of the British Royal Family

I’m sorry we gave you platforms to assist with a cookbook fundraiser, to guest edit British Vogue, and a one-time fashion capsule (designed by your friend)

I’m sorry your behaviour on the Oceania tour angered your hosts and we covered it up by encouraging positive coverage from the press

I’m sorry we covered up your rampant bullying of young professional women and then covered up the results of the bullying investigation in an effort to protect you

I’m sorry we helped cover up that you worked with the authors of Finding Freedom

I’m sorry we didn’t clamp down on you monetising your official royal engagements

I’m sorry for allowing you to keep all those freebies you’re definitely not allowed to keep

I’m sorry we footed the £3.2 million bill to renovate your house to your liking

I’m sorry we gifted you an 11-room house on the Windsor estate, for free

I’m sorry we let you live free-of-charge in a two-bedroom London property while the free five-bedroom country house we gave you was renovated

I’m sorry we funded a household staff of cooks, cleaners and nannies for you

I’m sorry that while you were dating "H," we took an interest in what colour your future yet-to-be-conceived baby’s hair might be

I'm sorry we thought little gingers, similar to the adorable little orphan annie, would make a welcome addition to our family

I'm sorry "H" said your genes were stronger than his genes

I’m sorry for providing a team of highly-trained, expensive doctors at your disposal

I’m sorry nobody stopped you from wearing a maternity coat and announcing your 8-week pregnancy at the wedding of your husband’s cousin

I’m sorry you publicly announced your first pregnancy on Infant Loss Awareness Day

I'm sorry you weren't asked to unveil your children as they departed the hospital or on the day of Christening

I’m sorry we permitted you to ban the British press (in favour of the American press) from covering the unveiling of your first child in Windsor Castle several days after the birth

I'm sorry you thought it appropriate to gift Catherine a knife for Christmas

I’m sorry we allowed you to mistakenly believe you were more popular than Catherine and William

I’m sorry our support made you feel emboldened to behave appallingly towards staff and ticket-holders at Wimbledon, florists, gardeners, etc

I'm sorry you and H chose to attend the Lion King movie premiere instead of the Veterans event. You were desperate to meet Beyonce and JayZ, and you also demanded H ask Bob Iger to hire you for a Disney voice over job

I’m sorry we invited you to The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee after you’d called us all racist abusers on international television

I’m sorry we invited you to the funeral of the longest-serving monarch in British history after you continued to slander everything she ever worked for in multiple interviews and podcasts

I’m sorry nobody asked if you’re okay.

"So sorry about all that."