#its me serina

[dreamingofmarauders]

You Belong With Me

James Potter x Reader

Summary: In which despite having rejected you, James feels the uttermost jealousy of someone else being near you

Warnings: Jealousy, rejection, angry/a bit possessive James Potter, regret, arguing, cussing, crying (Let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I honestly don’t even know what I was thinking then, but this idea just randomly hit me so here it is lol. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

James tightened his hold on his glass of Firewhiskey, his gaze piercing dangerously as he watched you get too close with another guy. He clenched his jaw, downing his drink in one go before he tossed the glass back on the table, rage filling his whole being.

He had no right to feel like this. After all, he was supposed to be in love with Lily, not you. At least, that's what he kept trying to tell himself but as he watched you drape your arms around a Slytherin, both swaying to the music, he felt nothing but pure hatred for the male and absolute jealousy.

You should be in James' arms, not his.

James clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes as he inwardly groaned, as it came back to him once again, the memory so vivid it was as if the young Potter was reliving it once again.

You and James leaned against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, your eyes fixated upon the captivating night sky. You turned your head to look at the hazel eyed beside you, who gazed up at the twinkling stars with a soft smile sitting upon his lips. You and James had been best friends since you were children and your bond only deepened during the many years you spent together at Hogwarts. It was a weekly tradition for the two of you to stargaze together.

Your heart fluttered at the content expression on James' face, nothing but adoration in your eyes for him. Over the years, you didn't realize when but you had fallen for your best friend.

You were in love with James Potter.

However you kept that secret locked away in your heart, knowing James had been chasing after the redhead, Lily Evans, since you all were eleven.

Now as you admired James, the ways his lips curved or the twinkle in his hazel eyes, or his always messy black locks, or the way a dimple appeared whenever he smiled, the words slipped past your lips before you could stop them.

"I love you."

Your eyes widened with horror as James' rounded at that as well, turning to look at you in surprise.

You had mentioned many times how much you loved him but what caught James off guard this time was the way you spoke the words, the emotion behind them indicating a whole other meaning, a confession of you being in love with him.

"What?" He breathed out.

You sighed, knowing it was useless to deny it.

"I am in love with you, James."

"No." James uttered out in horror, taking a step back, causing a crack to form in your heart. "You can't be in love with me. I-I only love Lily."

Despite knowing the truth, your heart still shattered at the words that passed his lips, your eyes brimming up with tears.

Why had you even dared to hope he may reciprocate your feelings?

"I love Lily, Y/n. I could never love you." He said, as the tears slid down your cheeks. "I'm sorry." And with that James spun on his heels and hurried away, leaving you to stare after him, utterly heartbroken.

You had destroyed your own relationship with James, severing off the threads that had bonded the two of you together since forever.

You angrily wiped your face.

Why did every force in the universe always have to work against you?

The two of you haven't spoken since. James seethed as he watched Rosier pull you closer, but what really ticked him off was that your gaze had connected with his, and he knew that you knew what James was really feeling as you observed his very red face, before you inched your face closer to the Slytherin's.

That was the final straw for James Potter.

He immediately took a step in your direction but a hand latched onto his arm, rooting him to the spot.

"Mate, calm down."

James' furious gaze flickered to see who had dared to stop him, his eyes finding the silvery grey irises of his best friend.

Sirius knew exactly what had transpired, all the Marauders did. After all, you had been a fifth of their group, and your absence had impacted them all.

"Prongs, you need to calm down." Sirius instructed again, carefully analyzing James' facial expression.

This only angered the young Potter.

"Stay out of this, Black." He spat out and shrugged off Sirius' hand, ignoring his friend's protests.

James strutted over to you with nothing but fury and jealousy blinding him. When he reached you and Rosier, he shoved the Slytherin back, who shot the Gryffindor a death glare, grabbed your wrist and dragged you through the crowd of bustling and dancing teenagers, ignoring your protests. He finally dropped his hand from you when the two of you were in the silent corridor outside the Gryffndor common room.

You glared at James, who was staring back at you intensely, his jaw clenched.

"What the fuck, Potter?!" You yelled.

"What the fuck were you doing with that Rosier?! You were doing it on purpose!" James retorted back, silencing you for a mere moment before your face hardened.

"I can do whatever the hell I want, Potter, you have absolutely no right over my life!" You screamed at him, throwing your hands up in anger. "You told me you don't love me, you pushed me away, so how in the world do you get to decide what I can do and whom I can be with?! Why does it bother you so much?!" You shrieked at him.

However the next second, your back was pressed against the cold stone wall as James closed the distance between the two of you, caging you in his arms as his lips pressed to yours. You tried to resist, knowing this wouldn't end well, but the feel of him on you ignited a fire that yearned for more and your hands slithered to lock behind his neck, as you both poured out all your emotions into the kiss.

When the need for oxygen became great, the two of you pulled away, James placing his forehead against yours, as the both of you panted.

"This isn't fair to me, James." You breathed out, your eyes brimming once again. "You can't say you want Lily but then not let me live my life either." A tear slid down your cheek as your voice became heavy with emotion.

James lifted his head back, raising his hand to softly brush away your tears, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks before he peered into your y/e/c eyes, his gaze so intense that it seemed he was looking right into your soul.

"I am so sorry, love. I was wrong. I kept telling myself that it's Lily, but," He shook his head rather vigorously, "I've missed you more than ever since that day. My heart keeps calling out to you and I tried to push it down, but seeing you with another made me fully realize that there is no one else I would rather have than you." He confessed, placing his hand on your cheek, relishing in the way you leaned into his touch.

He continued, whilst lovingly caressing your cheek.

"My life is colorless and dull without you, y/n/n. I want you, darling. I... I love you." James uttered out, watching your face flood with astonishment, noticing the way you had stilled in his hold. Knowing he couldn't lose your attention, he went on, "I know I was an absolute jerk to you that day and today, but I promise you my love, if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life, spend each day proving to you how much I really do care for you." James professed, his heart pounding heavily as he awaited your response.

You stared at him in complete shock, eyes round, making James afraid that he had truly lost you for good. However, a rush of relief flooded James' body when your beautiful lips slowly curved up into a tiny smile.

"I'll give you one chance, Jamie, just one."

The biggest smile you had ever seen graced James' face at your answer, and he cupped both your cheeks, "Thank you! Thank you!" He lifted you off the floor, spinning you around before he gracefully set you back on your feet, his arms going to settle around your waist. "I promise you that you will not regret this, darling."

And James Potter lived up to his promise, as each day after that, he made sure to show you how much he truly did love you, and Merlin were you above the clouds to have landed the man of your dreams, disbelief still clawing at you from time to time that James Potter loved you back just as much as you loved him.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[dreamingofmarauders]

SUPER AMAZING STORY! I really loved reading through it and it was just the perfect amount of everything! Please do give it a try if you're into Aleksander fics! <33

In Another Life

Masterlist

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: When the making at the heart of the world steals you from your own universe and drops you into the fictional country of Ravka you’re thoroughly bewildered. But this is an opportunity for you to right every wrong - and hopefully save one life in particular.

Word Count: 60.5K - COMPLETED

My Masterlist • Series Playlist

Read on AO3 HERE

Part One

One moment you’re going about your usual day, the next you’re in Ravka - the fictional country in a fictional universe. When you realise that the story you know by heart hasn’t even begun, there’s only one person you can think of going to.

Part Two

After a restless night of sleep, you wake with too many thoughts in your mind. The contents of the General’s war table provide an ample distraction, and soon the man himself joins you.

Part Three

You and Aleksander journey to Kribirsk, where everything starts to become real for you, as your plan is finally set in motion.

Part Four

Accompanied by your new recruits, you and Aleksander return to the Little Palace, and soon settle into a comfortable routine. But nothing ever stays the same for long.

Part Five

Alina is presented to the king as the sun summoner, and from that point onwards you and Aleksander become increasing busy - and apart.

Part Six

An unexpected visitor arrives with some good news, and Aleksander makes a earth-shattering discovery.

Bonus Scene

As your first interaction with Baghra occurs, a wounded Aleksander returns from a mission, and you have no chance to ponder over her opinion of you.

Part Seven

The search for the stag takes your group north into Fjerda, but it’s after you return to Os Alta that a surprising event occurs.

Part Eight

The Winter Fete goes smoothly, a perfect evening followed by a foiled assassination. A few days later, you and Aleksander journey into the Fold.

Part Nine

After a dramatic arrival into West Ravka, your group travels to Os Kervo, and you recruit a pirate privateer to join you in the search for the sea whip.

Part Ten

The hunt for the sea whip has begun, but a number of obstacles stand in your way, demanding more from you than you ever thought possible.

Part Eleven

Your near death experience has taken a toll on you, which forces Aleksander to come to a realisation.

Part Twelve

A successful return to Ravka prompts you to share warnings of the future with Aleksander, and a new (but not unfamiliar) character invites himself into your schemes.

Part Thirteen

Slowly the pieces of your plan for the Fold come into place, but thoughts and fears of the future continue to haunt you.

Part Fourteen

Ravka’s seat of power changes, and Aleksander makes a discovery that sends you both north in search of his sister.

Part Fifteen

As Alina is about to bring down the Fold, Aleksander suggests a theory that lifts your hopes.

Part Sixteen

Together, you and Aleksander journey to the monastery of Sankt Feliks. To mend the tear at the making, a sacrifice from one of you is required.

Part Seventeen

With the remains of the Fold vanquished, the people celebrate. Together, you and Aleksander work to establish peace in Ravka and a safe haven for your Grisha.

Bonus Scene

Alternate Ending

Until I Found You - IAL (Aleksander’s Version)

Aleksander isn’t expecting to find love in this lifetime, that is until you arrive. - A collection of scenes from In Another Life from Aleksander’s perspective, as well as a bonus scene.

-

Post-In Another Life

Future Uncertainty

Lingering insecurities rear their head now that everything has been resolved, and Aleksander encourages you to share your fears. (set mid-part seventeen)

The General’s Crown

In an attempt to escape the attention of being a living saint, you retreat into the fields and create flowers for the local children. It isn’t long before your husband finds you.

Christmas Eve

Its your second Christmas in Ravka, your first with the country at peace and Aleksander as your husband. Together, you have the perfect Christmas Eve.

The New Year

It’s New Years Eve, and the first time you’re celebrating with Aleksander as your husband.

What the Future Holds

Immortality suits you well, and your new life with Aleksander is better than you ever could have imagined.

[lalunanymph]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 (part 2)

✧˚ · . three minutes past his 27th birthday, the mass serial killer known as 'dawnbreaker' finally meets the girl from his dreams

✧˚ · . part 1

✧˚ · . warnings:- dawnbreaker!zayne x fem!reader, HEAVY ANGST, mentions of food, mentions of illnesses, mentions of injuries, spoilers for zayne's lore, alternative timeline, mentions of babies, mentions of pregnancies, pet names (darling, my love, beloved), nightmares, mentions of smoking, MCD, brief mentions of su_cide, nightmares, a not so happy happy ending, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. i am not responsible for your media consumption

✧˚ · . dawn says: i had to split the last part into 2 because it was literally so long tumblr said nope sorry girlie this ain't making it into the tags lol

✧˚ · . playlist

“You may know me as Zayne, but I go by another name…” 

He exhales it into the suffocating silence:

“Dawnbreaker.”

Your eyes bulge wider, mouth falling open in horror. Of course, you were aware of that name; you knew who he was.

Serina Callaghan, daughter of Detective Callaghan, had told you numerous stories about the elusive serial killer. How no one could find a trace of him. 

Yet, here he was—standing in your kitchen with remorse etched onto every pore of his body.

You feel a sick sense of nausea bubbling from your stomach to your chest, threatening to spill onto the floor.

You had taken him in… made love to him… held him in your arms every night… when he had killed all those innocent people…

As if reading your mind, Zayne shakes his head. “These people—the ones who had passed on—I never killed them for fun. They wanted me to end their lives because they were overtaken by the disease… by the Abomination.”

His words shock you out of your reverie; tames your urge to grab the phone and call the police. For a split second, you wonder what Zayne would do to you if you were to lunge for the cordless phone; would he escape?

Kill you?

Forcing yourself to be far braver than you felt, you clutched your trembling hands together, taking in a deep breath.

“So, m-mercy killing,” your voice shook, but your deduction was spot on.

“Yes.” He shrugs off his coat, and you eye the wad of cash he takes out and sets on your kitchen counter. “I will never kill someone unless they pay me to do it. I do not like taking lives, but as one of the last Evolvers in this generation… it is my duty to help.”

Evolver? 

The layers of truth were starting to make your head spin. You could barely unravel your spiraling thoughts.

“I thought Evolvers were extinct.”

Zayne shakes his head. “We are rare, but we are still here.”

As if to solidify the truth, he holds out his hand. On his palm, the air condenses, and the temperature in the kitchen drops a few celsius. You watch, gobsmack in silence, as bits of snow appear, coalescing right into a singular teardrop-shaped crystal that unfurls into a shimmery flower with five petals.

“Ice,” Zayne explains, and slowly approaches you. He gently places the flower on the table, right where you were standing. 

He backs away, giving you some space to work out your emotions. You stare at the jasmine flower, in silent contemplation. 

It’s intricate and beautiful, but ice in itself was deadly. 

While it looked harmless falling from the sky, it had the power to bury people under its weight; causing hypothermia, avalanches, and skin burns. 

You glance at Zayne, wondering which category he belonged in—if he was a chilly breeze or an entire fucking snowstorm.

His weary gaze spoke volumes, though he let you reach your own conclusions. Zayne was giving you a choice: one many people in your life didn’t.

Stay or leave. 

Be with him or turn him away.

Two forks of an outcome; you had no idea what to choose. 

Your silence stretches on and Zayne hangs his head forward. He’s about to turn and leave, when you slowly reach out to touch the jasmine flower. It’s cool on your palm, tougher and durable. Not wet and cold like real ice.

“Crystals?” 

Your voice comes off low, hoarse. There’s a dazed look in your eyes, one which tugs on the sorrow lining his soul.

He hates to do this to you; hates how conflicted you look.

“This is what you use to kill people, don’t you?” 

Astute, again. Zayne would honestly be impressed by your wits if he wasn’t painfully aware of how you were holding him accountable for his horrendous mistakes.

“I know you think awfully of me—”

“Why kill them?” You’re breathing heavily now, anguish coating your every word. “What if you could save them, instead? Can’t that be done?”

Zayne shakes his head, unable to meet your eye. “I have spoken to a few scientists about this… but many of them were taken by the Abomination. It’s caused by constant exposure to Protocores and is incurable. The only thing I can do is make sure those infected have a swift end.”

Your silence strikes him heavier than a hit.

“Infected?" you murmur hoarsely. "Constant exposure? A swift end? Do you even hear yourself?” 

You simmer and bubble, cheeks flushed with anger. “Zayne—these are human beings! People with love, dreams and hopes. People with families. They’re not jobs or ledgers. They deserve a bit more dignity than that.”

Suddenly, the despair in his eyes turns ice cold. You’re hopeless to stop him from approaching you, and scramble back until you bump the kitchen counter, eyes wide and fearful. But, he stops just shy of your feet touching, an unfathomable expression on his face.

“I would never hurt anyone. Ever. You of all people should know. Didn’t you say you weren’t afraid of me the first time we were intimate together?” He fights hard to not let his tone turn accusatory, eyes shining with frustration and unshed tears. “What made you change your mind this time?” 

“You killed them… you killed them all,” you’re close to tears, trembling from head to toe. Zayne looks like he’s about to cry as well, begging you to see beyond the murderer you thought he was; to embrace him and hold him and share his burden, even though he knows it’s unfair to put all this weight on you.

He was so tired of pretending that everything was alright. And deep down, he knew you were, too.

This world wasn’t kind to anyone, and he only had you to soothe the ache—to be the light he looks forward to every morning. 

Please, don’t go, he wants to scream, hands balled into fists at his side. Don’t leave me alone… you are the only one I have left. 

A sob bubbles past your lips, and you wrap your arms around you; willing yourself to stand upright and be brave.

“Do you regret it?” your voice is thick, and he longs to staunch the tears falling from your cheeks, but the words are lost in his throat.

“All of them? Did you ever regret killing them?”

Zayne tightens his fists, clenching down hard enough for his nails to leave pale moon crescent indents on his palms. 

“There was a boy I had to kill once. Georgie. He would’ve been thirteen…” he closes his eyes, hoping to find some strength to push on. Zayne was so incredibly tired from constantly fighting.

“We celebrated his birthday at a cafe, too. He loved macarons. And chocolate. But, his mother gave him the disease. I had to be the one to put him down. I still think about him every time I hear ‘happy birthday’.”

His words are simple, but they make you bleed, staring at the floor with tears blurring your vision.

You fall into a thick disquiet, and so did he. Zayne stands upright, like a prisoner about to be read his final judgment; willing you to forgive him—god he hopes you find it in your heart to forgive him.

He wasn’t a good man—a fiend of the night people were afraid of. But, Zayne would never forgive himself if you didn’t take him back. He would dig his knees to the ground, beg for you to change your mind.

In the throes of his own self-loathing, he almost flinches when he feels your arms wrap around his torso. Your head thumps onto his chest, and he realizes you’re fully crying now. He embraces you fiercely, quickly. Holding you fast to him as if you both could fuse together and become one.

You leave tear stains across his blood speckled shirt, fingers digging into his shoulders as violent sobs rip through you. 

“Do you hate me?” He forces himself to ask through numb lips. Zayne doesn’t know what answer you would give—if you would even reply to him.

But, you shake your head, hiccuping his name. 

“Are you afraid?” 

There’s a slight pause, and you shudder, shaking your head again. 

Zayne nuzzles your hair, rocking you from side to side like he was comforting a hysterical child. 

Your sobs eventually stop and you’re both swaying in each other’s arms now. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. Zayne hums in confusion, and you continue. “I’m sorry for being so quick to misjudge you. You’re not the bad guy, Zayne. You were forced into this horror… our world is so fucked up and you were just trying to make it better any way you could.”

You peel your face from his chest, eyes red-rimmed and nose runny. He gently dabs at your tears and snot with the sleeve of his dress shirt, careful not to press down too hard.

He doesn’t say anything else, and you both let the silence scatter and fall where it may. Somehow, your fingers end up in his hair and he’s nudging you back against the hard counter.

Zayne lifts you up effortlessly, parting your legs wide to slot himself in between them, hands gently squeezing and groping your thighs and hips.

The need to reclaim you claws through him, searing his every coherent thought with nothing but the cry of your name.

He looks down the line of his nose, tilting your face up to the light so you meet his eyes. What he finds in your expression makes his heart ache in misery—your sadness and despondency hitting him right in the soul.

“Would you rather I stop killing people?”

It’s a loaded question, one that has your mind reeling. You eye the blood on his shirt, now soaked through with your tears. 

“Only if you promise me you will never find pleasure from it.”

He shakes his head, firm in his conviction. “Never. Not once, or ever. I can promise you that.”

“Do the police know?” 

A good question, indeed. Zayne nods, catching you off guard.

“Callaghan’s colleague. Detective Ivan. He was the one who scrubbed my records clean. He knows not to seek me out because… it means he’s next.”

Zayne lets the words hang in the air. He hears your mind whirring, thoughts piecing together.

“Detective Ivan found out and agrees with what you’re doing? So, the police are turning a blind eye?”

“Yes,” Zayne murmurs, trying hard not to fall into the gravity of your lips; forcing attention to this distressing topic. 

“He was with me when Georgie died. He saw the extent of how the Abomination takes over people. Dark as it is, he agrees with my ethics and now, I only focus on people who come to me through word of mouth. Rarely do I ever hunt them anymore. They choose this end because it is far less painful than the alternative.”

“Which is?” 

He steadies himself with a short breath. “Living as a rotting corpse with no control over your body.”

You suck in a sharp inhale. Your smaller fingers fist the front of his shirt, your mind a million miles away.

Zayne nudges your face towards him, fingers cold on your skin. He swallows hard, and you follow the motion—his throat moving, Adam’s apple bobbing. Impulsively, you lean forward, catching him off guard with a chaste kiss.

He musters a low groan when you begin to tug on his hair; sliding your tongue into his mouth.

Frantically, he grips your thighs, hips—fisting your hair to pull you closer. 

Hot breaths clash. Moans echo around the kitchen. You lean back, far enough for silvery strands of spit to connect your lips to his. 

Zayne devours the dark look in your eyes, and he thinks loving someone shouldn’t hurt this much, but for you, he would go through the agony all over again.

The tormented man wants to swallow you down, break his rib cage open and tuck you safely close to his heart. Your sighs and gasps fuel him to be better—change his ways so he could have you in his life forever. 

“Zayne,” you sigh, all syrupy and love-struck. You play with his shirt’s button, and before he can stop you, you start to unravel all of him.

“—No." He grabs your hands in a panic, stopping your intentions in loosening his buttons. Those scars on his skin flash behind his mind, marking him as a lost soul and unworthy of you.

You shake your head, determination lining your pretty features. “Don’t hide from me anymore, Zayne. I want to see you—all of you.”

He’s helpless to stop you from unfastening his armor, greeting those silvery scars with a soft gasp.

There was a reason he never fucked you with the lights on—those lacerations on his body caused him shame.

But, you don't recoil out of disgust like he expects. Instead, your pretty fingers topped with pink nail polish trace the milky white divots; those signs of pain and abuse he had to endure for his entire life.

Peering at you pass thick lashes, he sees you lick your lips, the desire on your face as clear as day.

“You’re so beautiful, Zayne.”

Not giving him a chance to speak, you dip your head forward, pressing your soft lips reverently to the scar just above his heart.

Zayne feels like something seismic has just happened—an internal earthquake which rocks him apart. 

Outwardly, the world doesn’t change; the flickering light he keeps on forgetting to fix over your sink still casts intermittent shadows across your face; the outside world whirs with sounds of robots and automated deliveries.

Nothing has changed and yet, everything inside of him has fundamentally been shifted.

A strangled sound emanates from his chest, and you look up quickly, afraid that you might have hurt him.

But, Zayne’s not in pain—not in the least. His green eyes shine verdantly like a forest after a storm, locked right onto your flushed face. You think that out of all the realities in this messed up world, you might find the real meaning of adoration in them.

He cups your face, smoothes your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“I love you.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said this out loud. His breathing stutters, caught off guard. And you’re staring at him, too. All wide eyes, and parted, perfect lips. 

Slowly, you defrost, bringing your hands up to your face, pressing your palms to the back of his hands. 

The silence is deafening—a pin could roll off the counter and fall to the ground, sounding like an explosion. Zayne swears he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. 

“I love you, too.”

Your voice is soft. Fragile. It echoes with shades of fear, but never uncertainty. 

For if there was one thing you were certain in this life, it was that you were completely, sincerely and stupidly in love with Zayne.

His eyes ripple close, and so do yours. Foreheads gently touch, breaths shared as one. The two of you stay like this for a long time, savoring this quiet, beautiful connection you had both created in such a short time.

Zayne has never known love in this lifetime. 

Slowly—surely—he was starting to warm himself up to the idea; falling deeper and deeper into a head on collision with your devotion. 

None of it scares him; how could it when it’s the stuff of his dreams? Of a forever stretching into the tiniest moments: languid mornings over shitty cereal and sappy medical romcoms on your beaten up couch and nights spent warming your sheets.

He can’t fight it; this feeling of always wanting to be by your side.

And so, he openly and fervently welcomes it.

“You’re glowing.”

Serina’s offhand comment brings you up short, and you fight back the creeping flush threatening to overtake your cheeks; preferring to bite your lower lip and turn you face away so she couldn’t see your growing smile.

Her silence isn’t judgmental this time. Rather, it’s tainted with a cynical curiosity.

“I guess Zayne really does make you happy.”

You hum, going back to your supplies of flour and sheets of freshly roasted nuts.

“He’s staying with me now.”

“Oh.”

You don’t turn to face; don’t have to because you know she’s making a face behind your back. 

“Is he coming to pick you up later?”

You think about him astride his motorcycle, dark locks whipping in the wind; fitted black trench coat, pristine suit and tie clinging right onto his frame and feel your stomach twist with nerves.

“Mhm hmm.”

Serina pauses, and you could tell she was struggling with something to say. 

“I’m happy for you.” 

Whatever it was you expected to drop from her mouth, it wasn’t this.

You turn around, and the incredulity must've been transparent on your face because she bursts into laughter, doubling forward to cackle with glee.

“Your face! You look like I just came out and told you I sold children’s blood by the bag.” 

She snorts and straightens, wheezing slightly. “I am happy for you, you idiot. I’m glad you’re not fish food yet and you’re glowing and you have a stupid amount of hickeys you try to cover up every day with that shitty concealer I got for you five fucking years ago. Point is: I’m happy for you.”

Serina emphasizes the last word, and you shyly lace your fingers together, feeling both sheepish and incredibly exasperated.

“I… Thank you.” Not knowing what else to say, you flash her a small smile, one which she returns instantly.

Scoffing, she runs a hand through her platinum blonde hair and tosses the rag she was holding across her shoulder, gesturing to the door.

“Go. I can handle closing time. I know you’re dying to see Zayne tonight.”

You perk up, in disbelief. “Serina—” 

“Leave those nuts in the fridge. They should be easy to chop up and temper with our chocolate bark tomorrow.” Hustling you out of the kitchen, you squeal at the feel of her cold fingers prodding your lower back. “Now, go. Call Zayne up and let him take you home. I’m sick of your love struck puppy expression.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, and unlace your apron. “Are you sure you can handle it? I can stay with you and help.”

Serina makes a face, though you could tell she was joking. “Ugh, and have to be around you for another hour while you pine for and miss him? Yuck. Get out of here.”

She jokingly swats you with her towel and you get her message loud and clear. 

“Okay, okay. Goodnight, you ass.”

“Goodnight, simp,” she drawls, and you scoff, rolling your eyes while you pick up your phone to call Zayne. 

Serina waits together with you, smoking a cigarette and filling you in on the latest online celebrity gossip. 

When Zayne arrives, sharp on time and sharply dressed as ever, she shoots you a smirk and a wave. You wave back, and slip on the helmet he passes you, stradling behind him to speed off into the night.

They look happy together. 

The young woman chuckles tiredly, scrubbing a hand down her face. She trudges back into the cafe, cleans up the remaining plates and cups, humming under her breath. As she fills up the dishwasher for its final load of the night, she hears the front doorbell tinkling.

Frowning, Serina wonders if you had left something behind when the sound of heavy footfalls resounds in the quiet space.

Thinking nothing of it, she straightens, a scowl on her blush rose lips.

“We’re closed,” she calls out in her most polite voice.

The presence in the dining space does not remove itself. From her stance inside the kitchen, she could just make out the silhouette of a tall man partially hidden behind the pillar separating the main hall from where she stood. 

Fuelled with distaste and annoyance, she rounds the corner, fully prepared to fight off this stranger and tell them to piss off.

“I said, we’re closed—”

Her words are cut off when she notices a faint glow of purple surrounding him. His eyes which were once blue were now soulless and drained, clapping onto hers, their pupils widening slightly.

Strange bulges appear on his body, and in the limited light, they seem to move up and down his arms. 

Crawling like they were filled with life.

She takes a step back, a sharp scream piercing the air.

The man falls back, putting his hands over his ears. He yanks on his graying hair, teeth bared and spittle splattering onto the ground.

“Shut… up…” 

His moans rattle and thump, filled with pain. He looks at her, and in the briefest of moments when they make eye contact, Serina could plainly see the anguish in them—the desperation for someone to end it all.

“Please,” his hoarse voice makes her skin crawl, her hairs stand on end. “Someone… Help me… kill me…”

The stranger falls to his knees, back arching like a cat poised to throw up all over the polished, hardwood floors. 

He heaves, and spittle drips from between his clenched teeth. Serina can’t move; completely frozen to one spot, locked on the sight of his pale hands curling into claws.

Those choked sounds he made would haunt her for the rest of her life. But, nothing could prepare her for when he lifts his head and the bulge under his right eye bursts, revealing a dark, tentacle appendage dangling from his cheek.

“Please,” he begs her with what was left of his humanity.

“You have to help me… you have to save me.”

Zayne’s arms wrap around your waist as you’re stirring a pot, his hum of adoration and contentment rumbling against your back.

“What?” you tease, picking up some bay leaves and tossing them into the fresh marinara sauce. “Are you excited to make me cook even after I slaved for a whole night in the kitchen?”

He clicks his tongue, kisses you right on your pulse point.

“Feisty. And here I was, about to fully offer you my assistance.”

He drops his arms, and you turn back to him with a pout. 

“I was joking,” you backtrack, fluttering your lashes. “I could really use your help,” and add, “Please,” when the beginning of a smirk plays on the corners of his mouth. 

“Alright,” he hums, grabbing a handful of sweet basil and a knife, chopping them up finely to be added to the pasta sauce once it was done.

It was comfortable working alongside him. Zayne didn’t need endless chatter to fill in the void, and neither did you feel obliged to talk his ear off. 

You start to hum, and he tunes in, admiring the rise and fall of the melody; how clear and bright your voice is.

“Would you like to put on some music?” He suggests, pointing to the old radio sitting atop your kitchen counter, a fine layer of dust on its smeared screen. 

You take him up on the offer, nodding. 

Zayne pushes a button and the last recording you had on plays in the room. A voice from long ago vibrates with nostalgia, reminding him of days passed and a comfort only found from warm sheets on a Sunday morning.

“Why don’t you ever let me into your home?” 

He pauses, glancing at you. “Pardon?” 

You exhale a laugh, and a teasing quality takes over your smile. “Your apartment. How come I never see it? Do you have piles of bodies you’re hiding from me?” 

A slender, calloused finger materializes by your hip, poking into your side. You flinch and giggle, locking eyes with his amused expression. 

“Careful. Do not go around unnecessarily exposing me.”

“So, you do have them under your floorboards.” 

He decides to challenge you back. “Are you afraid?” 

You scoff, picking up a wooden ladle to stir the sauce. “You must be mistaken, Zayne. For it isn’t me who should be afraid of you, but you of me.”

He resists the urge to pick you up and spin you in his arms for being so damn adorable. Reigning in the cute aggression, he titters a laugh. “And why is that so?” 

“Because,” you turn to him, your teasing smile growing wider. “I know things you don’t know. I have a certain set of skills not many have knowledge of and I can and will use them to my advantage.”

“Oh, really?” He drawls, raising a brow. The expression draws his handsome face into a comical curiosity; it nearly breaks your resolve not to laugh. “Enlighten me on these skills.” 

You clear your throat, setting the ladle down. “For example, I can bet you that I am a better dancer.”

Unexpectedly, he sweeps you into his arms, grabbing your left hand with his right and encircling the other one around your waist; you had no choice but to place your other hand on his broad shoulder to keep your balance. 

He was close—much too close—and it makes your face burn hot, your mischievous quips dying in the back of your throat. 

Zayne holds you fast, sure—swaying you from side to side as you both slowly circle the room, one gliding footstep at a time. He makes sure to lead you properly, careful to keep you two in an orbit far from mishap. 

You feel safe enough to lay your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat and breathing alongside the sweet, romantic music. Eyes falling close, you lavish in this sense of serenity and comfort you had never felt in your life.

Zayne, too, takes a second to savor this moment. He gazes at the peace suffusing across your face and feels his heart growing lighter.

I want this for the rest of my life.

The thought jolts him from his reverie; scares him enough to convince himself to take it back.

But, as much as Zayne wants to delude himself, he can’t run away from the truth.

He wants this for as long he breathes on this godforsaken planet. As long as the seas ebb and flow and the sun turns on its fucking axis—he wants you. Zayne doesn’t care what others might think; how they would make a mockery of your connection to him. He would kill anyone who tries to get between you both. 

And he hopes that deep down, you feel the same way, too.

He wakes up in the early morning to his phone vibrating on the dresser.

Zayne groans, feels a sinking weight on his chest and realizes you had fallen asleep sprawled on top of him.

His instincts override his fuzzy mind to not wake you up, nimbly grabbing his phone and answering the call without looking at the screen.

“Zayne.”

The voice on the other end jerks him fully awake, and he resists the urge to jolt upright, remembering you were still fast asleep.

“One second,” he murmurs into the receiver. The other man hums.

Zayne puts the phone back down, gently scooping you up and rolling you to the side, tucking the covers under your chin.

He sits upright, turning to plant his feet to the ground and picks the phone back up. 

“Detective Ivan?” 

“We have an emergency.” 

Zayne stops scratching his bare chest, tired green eyes sharpening from the urgency in the older man’s tone. Ivan would never call him unless it was serious and usually there was only one reason why he would. 

“An Abomination has attacked a young woman in a cafe. Nightstar Cafe. One of those oldy diners that open till early morning.”

Ivan doesn’t hear Zayne’s sharp breath, nor is he there to see how terrified the younger man looks, turning his gaze to the sleeping woman next to him.

“A young woman? Was she blonde?”

He can feel Ivan frowning on the other end. “How did you know?” 

Zayne concocts a lie. “I saw the cafe in passing. Is it serious?”

“We have no visual on the Abomination and neither on the girl. We’re stuck and we need your help. Only you can track her down.”

Zayne racks his brain, thinking of his apartment that’s almost an hour away from yours. If he could get to his tracking systems quickly, maybe there was still time to solve this case…

“Alright,” he made up his mind. “Give me half an hour to find her. I’ll alert you to her whereabouts.”

Ivan breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Zayne.”

“Do not mention it.” He clicks off the call, turns to find you still fully asleep. As quietly as he could, he stands and gets ready, dressing in a nondescript black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, bundling up with his trench coat to keep the autumn chill at bay.

Just as he’s about to grab his bike keys, he hears you stirring.

“Zayne?” 

Your voice is fringed with exhausted curiosity, bleary eyes blinking and trying to pin onto his figure in the total darkness.

He’s next to you in a heartbeat, bending down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I have an emergency. You stay here and rest, alright? Wait for me. I’ll be home for you soon.”

You could only nod obediently, watching him rush out of the room; the front door closing behind him with a loud thud. 

Wondering what could’ve spurred Zayne into such a frantic mode, you close your eyes, about to drift off when you hear a knock. 

Woozily, you get to your feet, stifling a yawn. The hem of his too big shirt brushes your thighs, and you rub your eyes, frowning when the knocks get more insistent.

“Coming,” you call out, and trudge to the front door. 

Peering through the security monitor, your heart skips a beat when you notice your best friend on the other side, her expression wild; eyes darting down the hallway and jaw strained.

“Serina? What’re you doing here at this time?” 

Your voice carries out to the front, and you hear her over the security intercom.

“Babe, please. Let me in. Something terrible has happened. I can’t explain it, but I need your help.”

She sounds afraid and terrified, and your heart squeezes in fear when she glances down the hallway again, as if she were being chased.

Without another thought, you unlatch the door for her, and she comes barreling in, sinking to the floor the second you shut the door closed.

You fall to your knees next to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Squinting in the darkness, you faintly make out splotches of darkness on her tank top, and it’s not until you switch on the lights that you notice it’s blood. 

“Serina!” you gasp, and in the brightness, her irises have completely pin pricked, only a thin ring of blue surrounding them. 

She grabs your hands, tugs you closer to her face. Your heart is about to fly out of your chest, and you fight back, trying to break free from her grasp.

But, she’s fueled by fear and something else—something which ramps her paranoia up to concerning levels.

“Man. Wanderer. He hurt me. Tried to kill me. I ran… I ran here. I had no idea where else to go.”

Her words slur and clash in a cacophony of confusion. You can’t make heads or tails what she’s trying to say, but you attempt to piece it together for her sake.

“Hold on, hold on. Breathe.” You grab her thin shoulders in your white-knuckled grip, trying to shake the fear out of her. There was no time for confusion; you needed to know exactly what happened to her. “Start from the beginning, please. I can’t help you if I don’t understand.”

Without warning, tears fill her eyes and she pitches her head forward, breaking into silent sobs. 

Your arms automatically wrap around her, pulling her into your embrace. She cries, screams and wails, breaking down in total fear.

“It’s okay,” you soothe her, like how you had soothed Zayne many, many times in the aftermath of his nightmares. “You’re fine. You’ll be safe.”

She shakes her head, hiccuping incoherently. “He hurt me. He cut me with his teeth. I—” A full body shudder goes through her. 

Alarmed, you rock back on your haunches, eyes wide and locked on her pinched expression. “Serina, are you okay—?” 

The words die on the tip of your tongue, and you instinctively stand up, backing towards the wall when you notice her eyes starting to glow a bright purple.

“Serina—!”

She curls onto the ground, crying out in pain. Her body starts to writhe, and a gruesome crunching sound cracks through the air.

Too late to escape, you watch in horror as her body convulses, the bones of her spine breaking and twisting. Her skin turns a revolting shade of purple, and spittle froths down her mouth.

Before the petrifying purple light entirely consumes her body, she manages to hoarsely cry out two words which shakes you to your core: 

“Save me.”

SOBS im sorry to have to cut it here but it was too long </3 last part coming soon !! reblogs and feedback are sincerely appreciated 🩷

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy my concept, repost my stories or translate and post them to other platforms

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Serina is an ongoing, chronological world-building exercise and speculative evolution project that explores the natural history of a fictional terraformed moon, two thirds the size of Earth and orbiting a large gas giant in the habitable zone of an alternate solar system, populated by only a handful of organisms including grasses, sunflowers, ants, crickets, guppies, and -  most notably of all - a single land vertebrate: the domestic canary. Our journey to this strange world will take us from the very beginning and then progress steadily along though the eons as the world's newly introduced life adapts to and evolves to suit its strange, new and ever-changing environment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

extremely cool extended worldbuilding project that @andmaybegayer introduced me to. very cool of what ive read so far, and presented in a nice modular format narrowing on individual species and local ecosystems one by one, so it can be consumed leisurely and nonlinearly. check it out!!

[aettuddae]

seeing other anons write the best most cutie patootie hcs knowing I’ve deleted at least 3 asks explaining how I think karina would absolutely bitch tf out of serim in a toxic yuri way.

idk I feel like karina feels a little angry over how serim makes her feel when she is clinging onto kai so much and it’s like. why r u staying with him? is it because people tell you not to? because it’s easier for you to think your image is better when you’re with a guy instead of a girl?? like she doesn’t even like him that much I’m ctfu 😭is the comphet getting miss my baptismal name is (kinda) my stage name karina? like what is it w her omg

anyway I can see her pulling away and then getting into an argument and literally just using serim to get rid of her anger/taking it out on her because karina literally doesn’t know how to process emotions my girl is unavailable and stunted she does NOT like reflecting on her feelings. this has to be a little deeper like karina is absolutely serving comphet aura like WHY DO YOU WANT TO BE WITH A MAN SO BAD 😭can’t wait for when he cheats on her and she uses serim as a rebou[CAR ALARM GOES OFF]

also ur so real I love drama the best trope is major character death and angst or lovers to enemies etc Im always rooting for them to have emotional issues.. like the best thing ever is finding the right person but both of them agree not to be together because of work or duty to a country or smth or other and they both get married to other people and like meet once or twice in the next 20 years and u can tell they love each other so much they just can’t be together. ITS SO GOOD.. i love when they r doomed..

-💿

deleting those as if you don't actively send asks trying to lure me into writing serina toxic yuri already

karina been trying to explain what happens on her mind for ages and is so complicated poor thing. i mean, she is indeed angry, that's a fact

that's true, the moment she faces her feelings she automatically backs up. she hates talking about it, seeing it. lol i'm very sure her being with a man has something to do with her being bisexual, anon 😭 why she sticks to him is a different story, of course but-

everything you just noted down is a complete red flag to me, like, WHY ??? 😭😭 major character death, lovers to enemies, not being able to be together, like, if i'm catching that on a fanfiction i'm running away 💀 i like angst and i like when it's complicated, but you just love when it's a complete disaster is insane

also, felicidades anon for ganar !! 🫂 nos estaremos enfrentando en la final 👀

[dreamingofmarauders]

Thank you so much, I’m honoured 🥹🥹

Sirius Black Fic Recs

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Brother’s Best Friend by @lauryri

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if i can still breathe by @wingedhallows

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in which you decide to make a list of all the nicknames sirius calls you by @wisteria-cherry

it’s on me by @ghostedgwen

just as beautiful by @wasteddmoondust

late night cravings by @bobluvbot

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right where i want to be by @appocalipse

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storm in a teacup by @unearth1y-chi1d

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the herbology weakness by @izels-writing

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you deserve love, too by @fourmoony

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series

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don’t flatter yourself by @aeaean--bliss

worth the risk by @strawberrysodaslut

[everhaunting]

Hey folks!

If you don't know me, I'm Serina. I'm an film and voice actress from Chicago! I'm black, I'm queer and I'm talented. Its june which means it's my birth month! This year is my golden birthday and I'm turning 30. I'm currently fundraising to get professional footage for my reel.

I know the world is crazy, and money's tight everywhere. But if you have the means, I'd appreciate the help! If you can't donate if you can reblog to get this post into the path of a generous benefactor. That would be great.

[aihoshiino]

Do you feel like the last page of 141 kinda ruins the chapter as a whole because for me its so ironic for a chapter to be talking about pedophilia then have it end with ruby excited to kiss her brother who she completely views as goro who was 30+ years old when they meet when she is underage as both serina and ruby. Like it encouraging a pedo relationship as bait. Like It feels like aka didn't think far ahead how damaging that last page is for the chapter and ruby as a character

I wouldn't go so far as to say it was ruined, but I do think its ending drags down a chapter that's otherwise, like… mostly fine. 141 has a lot of its own issues so… I don't want to way it was pre-ruined, exactly? lol but I think it was less than the sum of its parts to a degree that the ending didn't totally torpedo the whole thing for me. But I do think it undermines the otherwise really serious discussion that preceded it and not in a way that felt intentional.

Honestly, Aka has had this weird habit lately of like… defusing and/or undermining moments that should otherwise be serious and weighty with out of place gags. I would say it speaks to a discomfort with these sorts of topics but like… he wasn't like this before?? What I think works so well about OnK up to about the start of the Mainstay arc is that is has a really good sense of when to defuse tension with comedy and when it can just let the darker/more serious aspects of the series be as they are. But increasingly through the Movie arc, a lot of stuff that should have been pretty weighty and dramatic either happens entirely offscreen and gets told to us in retrospect or gets turned into a gag on the occasions Aka deigns to let things happen on screen for the viewer to see.

And TBH, that combined with me being just so used to the reaction bait cliffhangers at this point meant that this one didn't really stand out as egregiously bad to me. Just kind of dumb. Ultimately it'll be a chapter to evaluate more thoroughly in hindsight when we actually know where Aka is going with wtfever is going on with Ruby right now and to what end all this stuff is being written for. Like I said in my chapter review, I just want him to shit or get off the pot at this point.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Reflections

Chapter Six

Master List / Real People Master List / Reflections Master List

Pairing: Mia MacAlsdair x Au Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: language, 18+ Minors do not interact

A/N: I apologize in advance should my Scottish/English interpretations be incorrect. I am Canadian playing in a world of my own making. Do not @ me.

**I do not tag. **To be notified of updates and new works, subscribe to me or the story on AO3 for email notification, or follow the library blog @tilltheendwilliwrite-library  with notifications turned on so you’re not missing out. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

~

Tom stared at the shaking door, rattling on its hinges from the woman's ire. 

Never meet your heroes. 

What did that even mean? How the hell was he that woman's hero? 

He scrubbed his hand over his mouth. "Fuck." He was such an arse. 

That hadn't gone the way he intended. Yes, he wanted to warn her off Kip, but he meant to do so sternly without insult. Instead, he'd insulted her entirely and did so with all the grace of a stampeding ox. 

But she'd thrown him off. 

Kip spent the last weeks talking about Mia MacAlasdair every chance he got. They emailed. They texted. He giggled like an utter buffoon acting the smitten pup whenever her name popped into his phone. It was the same - or nearly - that he'd done with Serina. 

He wouldn't allow his brother to throw away three years of love and his new family for some fling! 

Two weeks of waiting for this moment, watching Kip make a fool of himself, and listening to Emma wax poetic about how nice their new resident Mia had only increased his rage. 

Then, she walked through the door. 

Shock at the absolute beauty of her left him mute. Her chin just reached Kip's shoulders, and her dazzling smile carried all the way to ocean-blue eyes. Her alabaster skin was liberally brushed with freckles as if someone kissed her flesh with gold dust, then returned and did it again. The gold repeated in her copper hair, the strands a little wild where they rested on her shoulders. 

She wore jeans that caressed curves made for a man's hands and a wool jumper he would bet money was knit by Agatha Barnes, the village fibre artist. She had a distinct way of layering colours that should appear garish but always seemed to work out in the end. Still, it did little to hide the swell of generous breasts when Mia crouched to set her work down. 

She had thighs that could suffocate a man. 

The glory of her seized his tongue, rendering him all but mute.

Then Kip started in and renewed his rage when he got to watch her flirt, touch, and tease his brother. Did she have no shame?

Then, when he called her out on her behaviour, she played her part to the nines, denied everything, and left in a huff. 

Still, what was that parting remark?

The door swung open with a bang and made him wince. Did no one remember the castle was old?

"What the fuck did you do?"

As it was only half a minute since Mia left, he imagined Kip saw enough of her exit to deduce they'd argued. 

"I fixed your mistake before you made it," Tom replied calmly, eyeing the package leaning against his desk. 

"Fixed my- What mistake?" Kip frowned. 

"Come off it, Kip! You were halfway to an indiscretion, and you know it!" Tom bellowed. 

His jaw dropped. "You think that I- that Mia and I-" He barked a short laugh, then thrust his hand through his hair as he began to pace. "Of course, you do because, for some reason, you believe I'm still twenty and stupid! You right wank! What did you say to her?"

Tom scowled. "Please, Kip. I've seen you work. I know how you treat women. What would Serina think of your new side piece?"

Kip threw up his hands. "She knows, you fucking cock! She knows all about Mia, her art, and I commissioned a piece for her. She's read the emails and texts and even texted Mia herself. Fuck, you're a piece of work! You could have asked, but no! You assumed the worst of me again and arsed it up!"

Tom blinked at him in surprise. "What?"

"Mia isn't some home-wrecking, gold-digging hussy! God dammit, Tom! Tell me you didn't threaten her? Tell me, for the love of Highpark, you did not put your hands on her!"

He hadn't seen Kip this upset in a long time and slowly came to the realization he'd muffed it. Badly. "I… may have grabbed her arm when she went to walk away."

Kip's face paled, then burned a scary sort of red. "You. Did. What?"

"I didn't hurt her and let go when she told me to."

Kip scrubbed his hands over his face. "People in the village talk to Emma. Cora talks to Emma. But everyone talks when there is gossip to have. The only person who doesn't listen to that gossip is you!" he roared, shaking his fist. "If you bothered to listen, you would know Mia arrived at Ashwood Farm sporting a week-old shiner lovingly given to her by her ex-fiance!" 

Tom stumbled back and sat on the edge of his desk. "What?"

"You put hands on an abused woman. You accused the sweetest, kindest, gentlest woman of being a homewrecker. And do you know the worst of it all?" 

Tom didn't need to respond, knowing Kip would tell him whether he wanted to hear it or not. Kip mad was something to see, but a quiet mad Kip was damn scary. 

He crossed the room to scowl out the window. "She didn't have a clue who I was when we met until I teased her with a few movie titles. She recognized Ragnarok, the only movie of mine she knew was Thor fucking Ragnarok because "she liked the other guy better." The one who played Loki first."

His jaw dropped. "What? She actually knew there was a difference?" So many people had no idea they'd switched him out for Kip until the press tours started, and his brother was praised for doing such a good job. 

Loki's army, virtually en masse and overnight, became Kip's fans instead. He didn't want to admit how much that hurt when replacing him in the industry he once adored seemed so easy. 

"She knew. She said you had passion. She called your scene with Chris during Avengers magic. That single tear when you sneered sentiment was magic."

Tom frowned. He may be flattered, but he'd had his fair share of obsessed crazies back in the day. 

"Fuck off, don't even," Kip huffed before he could ask. "Emma's been poking at her, but she didn't even know your name until we informed her that the previous Loki was our brother Tom. She doesn't watch movies often, and what telly she enjoys appears to be of the home improvement genre."

Just then, thunder cracked loudly over the house, causing the windows to rattle and lights to flicker. 

"Bloody hell!" Kip cursed. "It's like the skies opened!"

Tom glanced out the window and watched it come down in sheets. "I'll find Mia and apologize. She said she was having tea with Emma."

Kip squinted. "Not anymore. She's driving off."

"In this?" Tom barked. 

"Seems she's desperate to leave. Wonder why that could be?" Kip snapped. 

Tom was running before he made the conscious thought to do so. 

~

Mia muttered curses on the head of Tom Hiddleston as she drove slowly around the castle. It was like a wall of water falling on her, making it nearly impossible for the wipers to keep up. As the humidity climbed, the condensation inside the cab made the widows foggy, but she couldn't make the defog work in Henry's truck. 

She glanced down to try and find the right button again, glanced up to make sure she wasn't going to drive off the road, and stomped both feet on the brake, causing the truck to skid to a stop, sputter, and die. 

A man was heaving for breath, bare inches from becoming a hood ornament. 

Mia shoved open the door, leaned into the downpour and screamed, "Are you out of your corn-fed mind!"

Tom rounded the side of the vehicle and stood in the open doorway. "You're the one who nearly hit me."

"You ran out in front of my vehicle in the pouring rain! Gods, do you have a death wish on top of being an asshole?" she shrieked, now mad and wet. 

He squinted, hair dripping, nose dripping. 

Why was he still so pretty?

"I thought Kip said you were Canadian. Aren't Canadians supposed to be ridiculously nice?"

She glared and snapped, "We're perfectly lovely until you piss in our timbits!"

He arched a brow. "That was decidedly rude. How very unCanadian of you."

Incised, Mia leaned out the door, subjecting herself to the rain to get nose-to-nose with him. "Don't you know the Geneva Convention was created because Canadians decided rules of engagement were more like suggestions? So test me, Hiddleston. See what happens."

His grin spread quickly. Then he laughed. 

It wasn't fair. No man should look that good soaking wet, nor should a laugh make things that were hella dormant wake up and stretch. Her freaking ovaries quivered at the sound. 

"If you're just going to bray like an ass, I'll thank you to shut the door," she huffed. 

He didn't quit laughing but reached inside, put the truck in park, and stole the keys. 

"What the fuck?" Mia muttered, too stunned to stop him. 

"You flooded it. You won't be going anywhere for a time. Might as well come in, get dry, and have tea with my sister. Besides, you're so mad you didn't even realize you're driving on the wrong side of the road." 

She eyed his offered hand like a snake waiting to bite her. "This one-eighty you've done is giving me whiplash. Did you crack your head at some point during your sprint through the castle? How many fingers am I holding up?" She held up three. 

His smile faded into something that looked a lot like contrition. "Mia." He leaned into the cab so the rain bounced off his back instead of his head. "I owe you a massive apology. Kip explained that I had it all wrong, that you and he are only a strange sort of friends," he smiled a little, "and I'm a tosser for putting my hands on you after what you went through before you came here."

Mia blinked. "Is a tosser an asshole?"

"A supreme one," he chuckled. 

"Then I accept your apology," she nodded. "And don't worry about the grabbing my arm thing. If you hadn't let go, I would have made you." He frowned and glanced between her eyes as if looking for bruising. "I left because he hit me. It was once, and he only succeeded because he surprised me. Colt's thing was words and subtle barbs, not fists."

"It shouldn't have been either, love," he murmured. 

Oh, that was a dangerous word and a wholly unreasonable feeling it produced when he said it. 

"No man has the right to touch a woman in violence." He stepped back out in the rain and held out his hand again. "Come on. If we run, it won't be so bad."

Mia looked at the sky and back at him. "I'm half soaked just sitting here. I'll be fully wet getting out!"

A slow grin crawled across his lips. "Then let's get wet, love."

Large red danger signs flashed in her mind, but Mia was already reaching for his hand. He tugged her into the rain and right up against him so he could shut the door to the truck, then stared down at her for a half second more as Mia licked her lips, tasting the rain. 

His eyes darkened, but he turned on his heels and dragged her into a sprint that took them around the side of the castle to an open set of patio doors. 

Once inside, with the rain shut out, they stood dripping on the hardwood of an extremely fancy parlour and stared at each other for long heartbeats as water plopped on the floor. 

"I'm dripping-"

Tom hummed and flexed his hands.

"-all over your floor." 

His dark gaze raked down her body and back up, locking with her eyes as he murmured, "Then let's get you out of those clothes."

She reached for his hand, but instead of following him, she used his arm to steady herself as she toed out of her shoes and peeled off her wet socks. 

"That won't help the trail we leave behind," he chuckled. 

Mia shrugged. "It's the polite thing to do."

He shook his head before following her lead, unlacing short boots and peeling off wet socks. 

She looked away. A barefoot man should not be sexy. Why the hell was it so sexy?

When he offered his hand, his smile knowing, she took it, allowing him to lead her where he would, packing her dripping shoes and socks along with her. 

~

Mia sat in a parlour out of Downton Abbey, warm wool socks on her feet, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sweater lent to her by Tom. It was a weird way to end up in a man's clothes, borrowed after being thoroughly soaked, thanks to him, but it wasn't as if she could wear Emma's. 

Upon seeing them dripping down the hall, his sister's shriek of distress had echoed and caused every servant within hearing distance - which was quite a lot - to pour into the hall and gape as the Lord of Highpark walked barefoot and soggy toward the stairs. 

He scolded Emma for making a scene, but it lacked conviction when Emma rounded crossly on him and launched into a beautiful dressing down. It tickled Mia to no end to hear Emma call her brother a slew of names in her cultured accent and then demand he apologize. 

Mia snickered when he sheepishly said he already had, earning a side-eye and amused smirk that made her shiver. 

Emma scoffed but immediately began to fuss, insisting Mia be led upstairs and allowed to shower before she 'caught her death,' then insisted Tom provide alternate clothing as there was no way Mia could borrow any of hers. 

Mia wanted to protest but knew it was stupid. She was soaked to the bones and gratefully agreed, as the idea of standing under hot running water was appealing. 

Still clinging to Tom's hand - as he wouldn't let her go - Mia climbed their fancy stairs, trying not to stare like a ninny. 

Emma and no less than three maids separated her from Tom, herding her in one direction as his fingers lingered, skimming her palm as he reluctantly released her. 

She glanced back in time to watch him walk the other way. Her traitorous heart fluttered when he flexed his hand, making her wonder if his also tingled. 

Emma insisted she give over her clothes so they could be washed and dried. 

After much fussing, they returned downstairs, where Mia was bundled before the fireplace, given a lap quilt, tea, and cookies. 

The entire experience was surreal. 

"You're sure he apologized?" Emma fretted, scowling at the door as if Tom would appear at any moment. 

He hadn't. The clothes were waiting on the bed when she got out of the shower, but since then, she hadn't seen so much as a hair of the oldest Hiddleston. 

"He did. Though, I gave him what for first. Who runs out in front of a moving vehicle?" Mia grumbled, nibbling the edge of her lemon-flavoured cookie. 

Emma glanced at the door again and sighed. "Tom doesn't like any of us driving in weather like this. That's how accidents happen."

“Accidents?” Mia murmured. 

The wane smile on Emma's lips slipped. "Our parents were killed in a storm like this. A car lost control, sending them off the road. The crash killed them both instantly."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I lost my parents to a house fire."

Emma gasped. "Oh, Mia! I knew they passed when you were young, but I didn't know how. Were you home at the time?"

She shook her head. "I was sleeping over at my friend's house. The police woke her parents, and they had to tell me. I was eleven. Someone said they died of smoke inhalation in their sleep. It was unlikely they ever woke up before…" She swallowed thickly and looked away. 

"At least there is that," Emma smiled. 

"Small comforts when you're little," she sighed, then shook her head. "Well, this conversation turned morbid."

Emma chuckled. "Should I ask about your ex and get all the ugly out of the way?"

"There's not much to tell there. Colt and I met in the last year of university. At first, he was amazing. I didn't have a lot of friends growing up in foster care, and unfortunately, you hit eighteen, and you're on your own. I worked a few years first to save money for school, went back late, but got my fine arts degree. A fat lot of good it does you though. It's not the most sought-after degree in the job market." Mia rolled her eyes, causing Emma to snort. "He was in his last year of law. We became friends and then started dating. Two years later, I moved in with him. Everything changed with the pandemic."

"It was hard, even on us." Mia frowned, but Emma shrugged. "Running Highpark is expensive, but we love it. We do what we can to keep it going."

"I should know that. So many places like this have turned to tours and rental options to keep them afloat. Plus, I've seen your website."

Emma scoffed. "Hack job of a cut and paste." She cast Mia a devious side-eye. "Perhaps an art major would be willing to give us a hand?"

Mia chuckled. "I majored in fine art, not computer design, but I can help with colour theory if you want."

"I want," Emma begged. "I feel like a five-year-old designed that thing."

"You?" Mia snickered. 

"Kip," she scoffed. 

Mia giggled. "Well, that makes perfect sense."

"An artist he is not," Emma chuckled. "He tried, but that's not his cuppa."

"You didn't want a professional to do it?"

Emma sighed and slumped against the sofa back. "At the time, we couldn't. We didn't know how bad it was before Mum and Dad died. I was gone, married to Ethan already. Tom was off being a rising star, with Kip chasing his heels. You can imagine the shock when, after the funeral, we discovered Highpark was so close to foreclosure that the bank was breathing down our collective necks. But we couldn't let it go. It's our home, all we've known, and so much of our history is wrapped up here. Tom gave up his career to come home and sort it but insisted Kip keep striving for his dreams. He tried to stop Ethan and I from moving back, but I insisted. Besides, Highpark is good for the boys."

She had sent the kids off to pester Kip, causing peels of laughter to reverberate down the hall at odd intervals. 

Emma explained that the eastern wing of the castle was strictly for family, whereas the western wing and great hall were open to the public. After a few months, they brought in the cafe and expanded into weddings, resulting in a smashing success, rapidly bringing Highpark back into the black. 

Now, with Ethan and Tom working on bettering the bloodline of the stud - something their family had run for generations but her father showed little interest in, allowing it to falter - they had two thriving businesses that weathered the chaos of Covid quite well. 

Mia could tell Emma was very proud of her family, especially her brother Tom and his sacrifices to save their family home.

"Sadly, Colt and I didn't weather the pandemic," Mia sighed, accepting another cookie and a sandwich for her plate before thrusting her hand through her hair. 

"It was bad?"

"It didn't start out that way. I think the forced proximity, working from home, constantly in each other's space grated on him. We had a decent-sized apartment, but there's only so many places you can go in fourteen hundred square feet."

Emma winced. "I suppose there is."

"I made a lot of excuses for him, missed a lot of red flags." Mia watched the fire crackle in the fireplace. "Some I didn't even see until I was on a plane halfway across the Atlantic reflecting on what happened. He started seeing someone else a year ago."

"He cheated? That bastard!" Emma cried. 

Mia flashed her a halfhearted smile. "It was pretty clear we were only going through the motions by then. There was no intimacy. We barely spoke to each other. I tried, but he would yell, scream really, and punch walls." Sighing, she rubbed her forehead. "I should have left when that started, but I had a shit job that barely covered my costs and no way of affording a place on my own. I didn't even have a car to live out of because I always used city transit."

Letting her head fall back on the sofa, Mia stared at the ceiling, very high and decorated with fancy plaster. 

"What about other friends?"

The self-deprecating laugh escaped before she could stop it. "Didn't have any."

"No one?" Emma whispered, taken aback. 

Mia sighed. "I'm… a bit quirky. My brain doesn't work like everyone else's. It's easy for me to fall into a project and stay there until someone pulls me out. The single-minded focus can be acute to the point that I don't see anyone or anything else until it's done. Friends would reach out, but when I stopped reaching back… they gave up. I never meant to ignore them; it just happens."

"People are shit."

Mia glanced at Emma. The sympathy, understanding, and annoyance invading her face was a surprise. 

"I understand better than you think," she sighed, picking at the sleeve of her sweater. "You wouldn't know, but I'm not the typical lady of the manor. I was a bit of a disappointment to my parents, a little too loud, too exuberant, too fanciful. They didn't understand me. Thankfully, Kip, Tom, and Ethan do. We moved back from the north, and like you, I lost most of the friends I made when I was no longer 'available' because Highpark became my focus."

"I wondered," Mia teased. "You don't remind me of Lady Mary Crawley at all."

Emma burst out laughing. "Oh, thank the universe for that!"

Mia chuckled, ate her sandwich, and groaned. "Gods, everyone's bread tastes like freaking ambrosia."

"Bread doesn't taste good in Canada?" Emma snickered. 

Mia shook her head. "Store bought isn't the same. I swear Cora's going to make me fat."

"Oh, please! You're a stick compared to my hips!"

"Besides, with that fiery temperament, you would burn off everything you eat."

The comment came from the doorway where Tom leaned against the frame. 

Casually dressed in dark pants and a blue polo shirt that matched the colour of his eyes, he smiled to indicate he was teasing before stalking into the room in a pair of well-worn boots with a black jacket slung over his arm. His curls were slightly more russet than Kip's and tumbled over his forehead, giving a boyish bent to his impish grin.

The man was not allowed to look so damn fine. 

"I assure you I'm perfectly polite on most occasions. It's not my fault you're cynical," she smirked. 

He raised his free hand in a gesture of surrender. "Yes, alright. I admit I was an arse in the worst way possible. I thought you'd forgiven me. Perhaps I was mistaken?"

Mia lifted her chin at his raised eyebrow. "Maybe I like watching you grovel?"

"Should I get down on my knees and beg, love?"

"I thought you were the one demanding everyone kneel?" she quipped, sipping the last of her tea. 

Tom stalked across the room, braced his hands on the arms of her chair, and leaned in. "Is that how you speak to a God?"

Mia barked a quickly covered laugh. "You'd be surprised." 

There was a flicker of confusion before his grin spread. "Cheeky wench."

She gasped in mock affront. "Wench! How dare you?"

Tom laughed and stood, shaking his head. "And here I keep expecting to find this polite Canadian Kip speaks of."

"We're polite, not pushovers," Mia snickered. 

Gods, she could smell him now. Citrus and musk, something orangey and masculine that made her insides quiver like jello.

"Are you interrupting for a reason, Thomas?" Emma asked, clearly amused by both of them.

"The rain ended. I thought Mia might like to see the rest of Highpark now that we are no longer in danger of floating away."

His blue eyes offered a challenge Mia was helpless to resist. "I'm not sure my clothes will be dry yet."

"Then wear mine," he practically purred, hand outstretched. "We'll borrow you a pair of wellies if yours are still damp and be off."

Mia studied him for a moment before glancing at Emma. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all!" she beamed, popping up from her seat like a Jack-in-the-box. "Have fun, you two!"

Mia blinked after her retreating back in surprise. "She's… spritely."

Tom snickered. "Emma is chaos personified in a person. She's a whirlwind, capable of bending people to her will when they least want to."

The description was so apt Mia laughed as she took his hand and threw off her lap quilt. "Maybe, but I think she's awesome."

He grasped her fingers, and Mia had to fight not to react to the sparks that shot up her arm. Then he pulled her closer, into the circle of his body heat, sending shivers down her spine again. 

"I imagine she feels the same way about you, love," Tom murmured, his eyes intense on her face. His jacket landed on her empty chair before his free hand pressed into her lower back. He didn't pull her closer, just held her firmly in place. 

"I deeply regret what I said earlier."

Mia tipped her head. "Which part? That I was making a play for your brother or that I'm a strumpet?"

Twin spots of colour burned into his cheeks. "All of the above. Kip once was so much a playboy it got him in trouble, but Serina has been good for him, and he is smitten with their daughter. I didn't want to see him make a mistake that could ruin everything he's worked for."

She peered up at him as the fire crackled in its grate. "That's your thing, isn't it?"

"My thing?"

"You rescue people." His family home, his brother, she wouldn't be surprised if he pulled Emma out of trouble along the line, too. 

Pain cracked his smile. "Better the rescuer than the villain."

The regret leaching into his smile hurt her heart, causing her to tease, "But you played such an excellent villain." She tilted up her chin. "Though, he wasn't truly a villain at all, was he?"

"Misunderstood," he murmured, his gaze drifting from her eyes. 

"He had a shit foster dad. I know how that is." Mia's eyes darted down to his mouth.

Tom licked his lips. "Do you?"

"Yeah. But what your Loki did wasn't his fault. He was tortured and brainwashed. I saw that in Avengers."

His grin grew. "I bet you did."

Before she could stop herself, entranced by the man's delectable mouth, Mia murmured, "Loki appreciates how well you played the part. He's still mad about the hair, though."

"Pardon?"

Mia started, blushed crimson, and attempted to step away, but he didn't let her, keeping her trapped in a dancer's embrace.

"It's nothing!" she insisted. 

Tom tilted his head, studying her with narrowed eyes. "You say Gods when you curse. You talk of Loki as if you speak to him instead of about him. And you've yet to set foot in any of Kelso's churches. Are you Pagan?"

That took her by surprise. Everyone in town really did know everyone else's business. 

Mia sighed. "Norse Pagan with Lokean leanings."

"Really?" he grinned. 

"Don't flatter yourself. I was Lokean long before you played Loki," she huffed.

"I did so much research into the practice, Loki, and the Eddas to play that part, but couldn't find anyone who would talk to me directly about their practice."

Bright puppy eyes begged down at her. 

Mia chuckled. "You still have questions?"

"So many questions!" he laughed.

"I'm happy to answer from my perspective. I can't speak for other people's practice, but I'll talk about mine."

"Brilliant!" He beamed.

"Just… don't tell everyone and their dog."

He frowned. "Why?"

"People can be judgy asshats who don't understand the difference between fiction and faith."

"I can understand that. And if I say something offensive, feel free to kick me in the shin."

Mia chuckled. "I will."

He laughed and shook his head. "I don't doubt you will, love. Don't doubt it at all."

Next Chapter

[soylent-crocodile]

Welcome to Soylent Crocodile!

Hello! I'm Strawb of @strawberry-crocodile, a girl in her mid 20s with an unfortunate love of Pathfinder's first edition. I've spent about 10 years on and off homebrewing, with a particular focus on monsters and prestige classes. This is a place for me to share that content with you all!

Here's a tag guide; Feats, Spells, and Items- These first three tags should be pretty self explanatory; this category is for "smaller" character options, the kind of thing that's not as big a commitment and has less content. With a few exceptions, I'll generally be posting these in batches. Classes, Subclasses and Archetypes- This is my tag for the other player-side homebrew. It's for bigger stuff than the previous tag; archetypes, class options (like sorcerer bloodlines), and prestige classes. I have two homebrew classes made, but those are something for a milestone I think! Monsters and Races- At the moment I have races lumped together with monsters, but I may shift the system later. This is, obviously, for monsters, something PCs will generally not have access to as easily. Any setting- I have a homebrew setting with its own countries, organizations, and pantheon, and intend to also post content specific to Golarion. Most content, however, will be sorted into this tag. Expect tags for those settings as they come. Soylent Original- This is just a tag for all my homebrew content lumped into one, without reruns, feedback, discussions, or anything I post here that isn't just new homebrew. Soylent Talks- This is mostly for things that aren't Soylent Originals, such as answering acts, or this post!

Other, specific tags under the cut;

Cool Mounts- This is a tag for unusual Large-sized quadrupeds that were created with being ridden in mind, something I feel is underrepresented if you ask me. Phyrexia Project- This is for Phyrexian creatures specifically, with the intention being that you can run a full campaign using a combination of these homebrew creatures as the Completed race and Phyrexian template. Kaimere- Creatures taken from the Kaimere setting Serina- Creatures taken from the Serina setting I love cats- I love cats. Here are some cool big cats.

[genderqueer-karma]

Welcome ♡

(If you follow or are already following, please like or interact to let me know you’ve read this. XX)

BASIC INFO:

☆ my carrd ☆

Here are some of the names I use:

Dio: If you’re a stranger, you are here! If I don’t know you or don’t feel 100% comfy enough with you yet, please stick to this one or one of the others.

Dora: If you’re a stranger, you are here! Mostly a joke in reference to an old url of mine that also is based on a childhood memory. You can call me this regardless of familiarity as well, but use caution, as it is more of a joking thing.

Devin: If you’re a friend, you are here! Refrain from using this one if I’m not really comfortable or familiar with you. That's all. Thanks.

Damian: If you’re a stranger, you are here! This name is based on a favorite character of mine, Damian Hinge (localized: Colias Palaeno) from Ace Attorney Investigations. Feel free to call me this whenever.

Colias: If you’re a stranger, you are here! Based on the same blorbo as the previous name, so you can call me this whenever.

Serina: If you’re a stranger, you are here! This name is in reference to the first (known) stage name of MALICE MIZER/Moi dix Mois guitarist Mana, who is also referred to as Mana様 (romaji: -sama) by fans, including myself. Feel free to call me this whenever!

D: If you’re a stranger, you are here! Shorthand for all names that start with D! Call me this if you want to.

☆ I’m Black. Keep that in mind, always.

☆ My pronouns are they/them. I also use þei/þem (still pronounced they/them), but mostly jokingly. You may use she/her if we’re close, but please ask beforehand! He/him is fine for jokes, but not always. And finally, never use “it/its” for me, since I personally find them to be dehumanizing. I’m a Black enby, so surely you can understand why I feel that way. Any neos and whatnot are just what they are 🤷‍♀️. I’ll let you know for sure if a pronoun makes me uncomfortable.

☆ I have four sideblogs:

@dios-multiverse ~ my writing and oc sideblog

@crucible-memes-4-salem-teens ~ my sideblog based on the 1953 play The Crucible where I am head mod.

@melanated-attorney ~ my Ace Attorney-centric sideblog. i may get a little mean there on occasion but it's entirely out of love for the series.

And another, (not very) secret blog. If you can find it, I’ll give you a cookie 🍪.

○°•°○°•°○

MY CURRENT INTERESTS:

♡ Ace Attorney! I love the silly little lawyer games, so feel free to talk to me about them! I’ve watched playthroughs of the trilogy and am currently playing Investigations 2 as well as the DGS duology. In addition, I’ve watched most of the stage plays as well as the anime and the live-action film. I have yet to watch the musicals. Plus, AA gave me THE problematic fave~

♡ Ouran High School Host Club! OHSHC is a lifelong love of mine. However, I’ve only watched the anime and have only read the first three volumes of the manga. Still, I don’t mind spoilers, so if I come across them, I’ll be okay. I don’t have a *favorite* host, though I am somewhat partial to Mori-senpai. (Also Ranka my love, my light ♡)

♡ JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure! I really like this series, but I am also fully aware of the reputation of the fans. I will try not to be annoying as shit but no guarantees. Also, maybe basic or wtv but DiU Josuke my beloved <33. (+ Does anyone wanna give me access to all the manga parts up until now?)

♡ Markiplier! Once again, lifelong appreciation for him as a person and creator. One of my favorite series from him is probably his playthough of West of Loathing, though I love most of his other videos as well and find myself coming back to his channel again and again.

♡ RTGame! Another favorite youtuber of mine. I love most of his videos as well, though his Planet Coaster videos are what drew me to his channel initially. I really like his content, so I frequently watch his videos.

☆ The Crucible! Yes, that play from the 50s. It gripped me in a hyperfixation when I was in 11th grade and hasn’t let go since, hence the blog! I also like other works of “classic literature”, though my interest in those is a bit more tame.

♡ Percy Jackson and the Olympians! (and related franchises, such as Heroes of Olympus). Though I’m out of the “target” demographic for those books, they are still near and dear to my heart. However, (possibly controversial opinion) I don’t like Jason Grace as a character. Sorry guys, but he’s mid. 🤷‍♀️

♡ My Chemical Romance! This band has stuck with me since middle school and I did cry when I found out they got back together, so jot that down. Also stream Foundations of Decay.

♡ Fall Out Boy! Another lifelong love of mine. I’ve loved this band since before I knew it existed. It truly has been there for me from the start. Also, M A  N   I    A is a good album, you guys are just anti-black. 🤷‍♀️ Stream So Much (For) Stardust!

♡ MALICE MIZER! I started listening to them (and the members’ solo work) in September of 2022, and am stuck in MIZER hell. It feels weird to be obsessed with a band that was created and broke up went on indefinite hiatus before I was even born, but I’m used to it at this point. Mentally I’m here.

♡ Queen! I typically only listen to music from the 90s and 2000s, but I love Queen a lot. Like with Fall Out Boy, I liked a lot of their music before I even knew it was them, which is interesting for a number of reasons. 

♡ ABBA! Another golden group from the 70s. Absolutely love them and I think it’s funny how they can now say they went on a 40-year hiatus. How many of your faves can say the same?

♡ BABYMETAL! While I’m not caught up on all the lore (I’m getting there, okay?) I really do like them. I started listening to them in 2019, right before METAL GALAXY came out. When that album came out, I obsessively listened to Night Night Burn! almost every day. It was crazy.

♡ ♡ ♡ Honorable Mentions: Greek Mythology, the novels Homegoing and Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi, too many WEBTOONs to name, Kamigami No Asobi, Waterparks, DE'WAYNE, Kero Kero Bonito, MARINA, Lil Nas X, and Paramore!

○°•°○°•°○

DNF 

(My love for the marginalized and downtrodden overrides my hatred for you 100% of the time.):

× Anti-Black/Racist/Neo-Nazi. I don’t tolerate that shit here. Leave me and my blogs alone.

× TERF/SWERF. Our trans siblings and sex working siblings belong in our community. If they hadn’t fought for us, we wouldn’t be able to live as freely now.

× Homophobes. I’m not explaining this one. Just know you shouldn’t care who other people want to kiss or fuck.

× Exclusionists. Ace people, Bi/Pan/Poly/Omni/etc people, and Nonbinary/Genderqueer people do not have to explain themselves to be allowed to exist in our community. I don’t care if you don’t understand their identities. It’s not their job to teach you.

× Transmeds/whatever the hell you people are called these days. Trans people do not need to suffer for you to consider them valid.

× Anti-Semites. Idc. Y'all’s hatred of Jewish people is quite literally irrational. They haven’t caused any problems for you and don’t secretly control the government. Don’t believe everything you read.

× Islamophobes. Again. As a whole, Muslims are not causing problems for you, and if you think that, you’re too far gone.

× Pedos/MAPs/NOMAPs. It’s not okay or right or normal to be an adult attracted to children. I don’t give a fuck. Get away from me. I don’t want you fuckers around.

× Pro-ship. I don’t care if it’s fictional. It’s weird. I personally just feel like “ship and let ship” can’t and never should apply to real-person, pedophilic, abusive, or incestuous ships, and that’s a normal opinion to have. It doesn’t “squick me out” if it’s straight up illegal! It disgusts me.

× AO3 simps. I use AO3! I like the platform. Its tagging system is well-organized. However, I would not put my moral character on the line for it. It’s not that deep, babes. I promise. No one’s going to cleanse the internet of your Destiel smuts.

× DDLG/DDLB/MDLG/MDLB. Why does another person acting in child-like manners or dressing like children arouse you? Quickly. Prove with facts and research how that doesn’t make you adjacent to being a pedo. Fuck off.

○°•°○°•°○

Finally, I hope this blog is a safe and happy space for everyone to be in! Let’s have fun together~! 

Thanks for reading, dears~ ♡

[dreamingofmarauders]

𝐘𝐨𝐮!

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚

James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Next Part Series Masterlist

Summary: In which James Potter is beyond shocked to see you introduced as the newest Order member. After all, to him, you’re nothing but a cruel, cold, pureblooded Slytherin

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: House stereotyping/prejudice (I think that's it, if not, let me know please!)

A/N: The inspiration for this came while I was reading @ellecdc's Sirius Black x Reader series called Come Back, Be Here and it was such an amazing read! Go read it if you haven't already! <33

───※ ·❆· ※───

The Order of the Phoenix, a secret society founded by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, was gathered once again in another secret location. All the members were seated in their respective seats, looking at the Headmaster to begin speaking.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” Dumbledore said, his voice bouncing off the walls, “I received a tip that revealed a death eater meeting is to take place tonight, not too far from Diagon Alley.” He said. “I will have to arrange a few members to be sent to scout out the meeting, but before that, I have an important announcement.”

Everyone in the room exchanged glances, a nervousness settling for what could be bad news to be revealed.

“I have recruited a new member, who has already proven what a great asset she will be to our team.”

“Who?” Sirius asked.

Albus Dumbledore gestured towards the door, “Come in.”

You strutted in, dressed in dark clothes with your wand twirling between your fingers as a smile sat upon your lips.

“You!”

And two sets of chairs screeched as two individual wands were directed at you.

“What are you doing here?!” James shouted, Sirius nodding as he backed his best mate.

“Charming. Quite a nice welcome you’ve all prepared for me, Headmaster?”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled as he directed his gaze from you to the pair of Black and Potter.

“Wands down, boys. Y/n L/n will henceforth be joining us from today.” He said, declaring it to the whole room.

“But, Professor!” James exclaimed, “Y/n’s a Slytherin!”

“Gee, thanks for noticing.”

James glared at you before he turned his eyes onto Dumbledore, his expression having turned into one of desperation. “You can’t possibly let her join!” He practically begged. “They’re all the same, the treacherous snakes can’t be trusted!”

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply but you beat him to it.

“Well not everyone can be so dimwitted that they would end up in Gryffindor.” You said, making both James and Sirius scowl.

"We are very intelligent, thank you very much!" Sirius interjected, making you shoot a look in return that said are you really though?

“Plus," You continued "Not everyone is the same because even a lion could be a snake in disguise.”

James’ eyebrows furrowed together, “What do you mean to imply by that?”

You merely shrugged, earning a scoff from James.

“That’s enough now.” Professor McGonagall called out sternly, making both you and James fall quiet and take your seats.

“Now that we have exchanged small pleasantries,” James and you loudly scoffed, “Onto the mission. I will be sending out Remus Lupin, James Potter, Benjy Fenwick, Dorcas Meadowes and Y/n L/n.” Dumbledore gently smiled, “This tip was given by Y/n herself and this proves how much of a help Y/n’s addition to the Order will be.

A cry of protest sounded from the young Potter, “Headmaster! How can you believe her? For all we know, she could be sending us into a death trap!” James exclaimed, glaring at you, who stood up with a scoff.

“And that is the exact reason I am coming along! If something happens, I will be there too!”

“Nope! Not happening! Headmaster, I refuse to go if she goes!” James said.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, “Stop behaving so childish. Miss. L/n will be going and that is final.”

James grumbled and muttered, “Fine.” Knowing by now that Professor McGonagall could get real scary when she needed to be.

“Good, now get going.”

James glared your way to which you only smirked at him, irking the young Potter even more.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

The mission was partially successful as like the tip you had given, there was a death eater meeting. However, they sensed the presence of Order members too early and before you all could even cast a spell their way, they had gone.

Most of the Order had been kind and accepted you in, after all, if Dumbledore trusted you, what reason did they have not to? Well, everyone except for Sirius Black and James Potter. 

Especially James Potter.

He loathed you. Simple as that. Your mere existence irked him, like it has been since your shared days at Hogwarts. You always had a way that managed to annoy him, and he had been always determined to get under your skin every time he caught sight of you within the castle.

James wasn’t sure when it started but the interactions between the two of you had become frequent since fifth year. He despised you for being a Slytherin, after all you were just like the rest, acting as if you were superior. But it was also the way you winked at him or that teasing smile that crawled onto your lips. Or how you would speak in a playful tone, flicking your hair over your shoulder every time you walked away or how you twirled your wand teasingly between your nimble fingers.

It infuriated him.

Everything about you annoyed James Potter to no end.

Henceforth, why he was so against your arrival into the Order and how he was determined to get at you every chance he could get.

"Wow, L/n, I'm surprised you haven't melted yet." James said later one evening at an Order meeting.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, "Meaning?"

"Meaning my burning hatred towards you, I was expecting you to have skedaddled out of here."

You gave him a weird look, "Well, that genuinely made no sense, Potter. Now excuse me." You said, returning to your conversation with Remus.

James grumbled, turning towards his best mate, "Moony! Stop hanging out with her!"

Remus let out an exasperated sigh, "Listen, Prongs, I love having you as a friend, truly I do, but if you're going to keep this up, I won't hesitate to hex your arse off the planet."

James stared at his best friend, dumbfounded, while you doubled over laughing.

"Moony," James muttered out hollowly, "How could you? You're my best friend!" He accused Remus in an over dramatic manner.

"And Y/n is also a friend of mine."

This threw James off completely, "She's WHAT!?"

"A friend. She was nothing but polite to me throughout school and I have no reason to be rude to her."

You shot Remus a smile of gratitude before moving your gaze to James, eyes turning cold as you stood up.

"I love to annoy you, truly, but I find it unfair how you're always taking out what most of my house has done against me. Not everyone is the same. I'm not like them." You breathed out, your voice wavering near the end.

James suddenly felt a weird sensation wash over him and he watched you turn around and go.

"Mate," James looked at his friend, his attention snapping from you to Remus, "You don't need to be so mean to her. She has gone through a lot."

James scoffed loudly, "I doubt that."

Remus gave his friend an expression of what looked like pity and exasperation. He patted James on the shoulder before walking away. James stood there, lost within his own thoughts. He shook his head vigorously after a few seconds.

No, to him you were merely one of them. You were from a family of death eaters. You were from the house that turned out all the dark wizards. You were just one of them and nothing more. And he hated them all.

"I hate you." He whispered.

Although, James' perception about you would be challenged as the next Order mission would bring an unexpected twist.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/N: Ok, so I had this idea of this one scene and I was planning on just a oneshot but instead I decided to go ahead and make a mini series, just so I can write more about James and Reader in this enemies to lovers sort of trope. I've never really written for James before, so I hope you all liked it and stay tuned for the next one because it's going to be good! Love you all and take care! <33

Love, Serina ❤

[roctopussyy]

Hello hello! You can call me Tango!

It/Its, He/His, She/Hers and Flame/Flames pronouns thank you!

About :

I'm a DID Introject of Tango from the Traffic Life series. (Specifically 3rd/Last/Double Life) I'm not the youtuber, and I'm not a roleplayer. If you're not sure what DID is, this carrd is pretty helpful!

The main system blog is @playstation-hydrangea and here's our collective DNI! (If I fuck up and interact with you when I wasn't supposed to, feel free to let me know and I'll unlike/unreblog your post. Thanks!)

I'm a transfem guygirl in a transmasc body and I'm a polysexual lesbian! If you don't like mspec people I'm gonna steal your stuff <3

I enjoy game shows, building, gambling testing the odds, and FIRE!

I try and keep triggers tagged for people with #tw [thing] and tag nsfw posts with #minor dni. Keep yourselves safe out there!

Finally, I'd appreciate it if you just treated me like a normal dude okay? I'm not a blorbo to be fawned over nor am I someone to be scared of. I just wanna reblog cool art and build inspiration!

Some pretty cool people :

My ranching partner Serina! : @canary-ranchers-revenge

My dearest QPP husband Impy : @armor-smithing

My boyfriend, Leggy : @leggy-legundo (Kipper's also there :) )

Dubby and PEEtho : @dubs-step @ethos--slab (Sorry Etho /s)

The Devious Duo Trev and Sev : @parrotsparty @jellie-kitty

My good friend Timebomb : @bad-boys--bread-bridge

My best buddy, main man Waffles! : @pesky-fish

Sugar, the sweetie : @sugarcanepillars

Smore the funny kibby :) : @hermitpoweredwheelchair

And Jello the EPIC : @omega-epic

Divider 1 ♡ Divider 2 ♡ Divider 3

[roseleestuff]

HEY THEREE!!

You probably found me from my shared account with serina; @rosinaparker! if thats so, you're mostly hoping to request or find some stories here :) well its no different from the other account, everything that applies on there applies here too ^^

FANDOM:

Genshin impact

SBG

Mha

REQ RULES

What I'll write: fluff, platonic, angst, NSFW, smut, headcannons, oneshots, x reader, afab, female reader and gn reader♡

What i wont write: incest, SA, character x character, ocs, amab

IMPORTANT

It will all be written as female reader! So if you want it to be gn reader please request it :)

Pretty inactive

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!!

I wont write for everyone nsfw since i dont feel comfortable with certain characters

Dont be afraid to request, i dont bite-

[serenqa]

reworking this intro, woo hoo!

heyyyy helloo!!!!! i am Serena! small fun fact, the 'ren' in serena is actually pronounced as.. well, ren. but its different from the usual serIna, which makes me unique!! totally......

enough yapping about my name, i occasionally will post my art here, usually about my interests. unlike my other socials, im not that active on tumblr, nor am i actually familiar with how things even work around here!

originally my posts were mainly sky cotl related, now they arent considering my dying love for the game... awwhuhhughhhjjh asuhshjsdmd

this page gets the better treatment lols, T ( the character at the top of this post ) is the... sona..? of this page! im not sure how to word it, but you get the idea!!!

well thats all, goodbye!

[aettuddae]

OMG OLYMPIA'S LORE?!?!??? yass we love storylines

so sorry if u said this somewhere and i just don't remember but does olympia have their own smcu? (well if they do olympias seems more legit since the groups lore actually intertwines with eo, unless its all made up by stans like actually groups lore 😭😭)

ALSO THE WAY RESIDENTS (thats the fandom name right?) ACT ON TWITTER IS SO ACCURATE (i forget ur somewhere roaming around on there 🤨) THEY REMIND ME OF ORBITS SM AHAHAHAHSHS

residents: omg can we get another karina & serim interaction, they would get along so well and be would be besties 🥺🥺

serina: *aggressively wrestling*

love when u expand on the lore of ur stories so don't apologize for the archives 😁😁 they are more than welcomed

(also will let u know when those pcs come 🫡🫡 i got the albums online and we know sm and shipping is ehhhh but PLACE UR BETS)

-🕷️

i'm a sucker for groups with lore, what can i do

do you mean as in the smcu episodes or just the smcu in general? because if you mean IN GENERAL, well that's the plot of the story 😭

basically, as it was explained in this resident's archives, olympia debuts groups as part of a story that links them all together, and that's what made them a relevant company, since they started a trend of giving weight to concepts and stories. everyone has their own lore, but they're in the same scenario and timeline, and groups even meet sometimes at certain events (like elysian and voyager winning the war together).

they have content specifically about the olympia narrative universe where they explain things more clearly, but not quite as explicitly as the smcu episodes, a little more cryptically. what was explained in the RA just now is what's canon. although there's fan theories, of course.

exactly, residents 😌 are you accusing me of being on kpop twt? 🤓 and this is their second orbits allegations lol

the innocent mind of a fan 🥹

thank you, sweetheart, i have a lot of fun doing so, glad that someone else enjoys it 🫂

YAY i say giselle and jimin, when they finally arrive tell me how much i missed 🫶🏻