Jules✨ 28 y.o. ~ She/her ~ 🇮🇹Currently obsessed with Rosekiller 🥀I write microfics (at least I try) ✨Amazing pfp by @astronomyth-art ✨
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Moonwater again! ✨ I missed them 🥲
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Evan: This is my boyfriend, Barty. If you're nice, he won't bite you. And if you're VERY nice, he will.
Barty: *grins maniacally*
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It’s been a while since the last time I drew them 💕
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If you like my art, you can follow me on Instagram and support me on Ko-fi 💕
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Congrats @blackthornwine on 2k on IG!
This is my entry for the DTIYS ❣️
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If you like my art, you can follow me on Instagram and support me on Ko-fi 💕
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Rosekiller 🥀
Component of a multipack / can’t be sold separately 💲
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A good strawberry ice cream is all Regulus needs to face the summer heat…
But why does James Potter keep staring at him?
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Regulus watches Sirius leaving Grimmauld Place 💔
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Regulus inspired by @spookeart ✨
I love this piece from Spooke and I decided to draw it too, I hope you like it 💕
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I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more - R.A.B.
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barty crouch jr has the sluttiest fucking waist
evan grips it with both hands whenever barty is within reach.
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They Didn't Flinch
When Regulus told them, it wasn’t dramatic. No tears. No trembling hands. Just a quiet truth placed between them like a fragile thing.
“I’m not a girl. I’m...Regulus.”
For a moment, there was silence. Then Barty tilted his head and grinned, like Regulus had just confirmed something he’d known all along.
“Obviously,” Barty said, without missing a beat, and slung an arm over Regulus’ shoulder like it had always belonged there. Evan didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He squeezed Regulus’ hand once, firmly, and stood.
By the end of the hour, he and Barty were standing in front of Slughorn’s desk, all righteous fury and unwavering loyalty.
“He’s a boy,” Evan said, voice calm and cold.
“He belongs in our dorm.”
Barty didn’t wait for permission. He simply started moving Regulus’ things himself. They didn’t hesitate. Not once.
From that day on, it was like a switch had flipped. Every time someone said the wrong name, the wrong pronouns, Barty was on them like fire, sharp-tongued and unrelenting. Evan didn’t shout, didn’t rage... he stared. And people folded under it, every time.
They corrected everyone. Professors. Prefects. Friends. No apologies. No explanations. Just firm, unquestioned truth.
“That’s Regulus.”
“He’s a boy.”
“Say it right.”
And Regulus, who had spent so long shrinking to fit a name that felt like a noose.. finally exhaled. He wasn’t alone. He never would be.
Because Barty and Evan, rough and sharp and untamable, loved with a kind of ferocity that burned down fear.
They didn’t flinch.
They never even blinked.
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Regulus Black ✨
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express - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 318
When Barty was five and went to a local meetup of magical parents and children, he met a girl named Hannah. Hannah was hungry, and shared his liking for Pumpkin Pasties, so Barty decided to share. After, his father told him he had a crush on Hannah, because he shared his snack with her. And Barty assumed his father was right, because why wouldn’t he be? He was a knowledgeable Ministry official, after all. He was never wrong.
When he was seven, he heard his father say, “Bartemius will marry a wonderful girl when he grows older.” It was a statement, not a question. His father had said similar things since before he knew what marriage and liking people was. So Barty believed him.
By the time Barty was nine, he could pick out his own crushes. Girls he wanted to share his snacks with and thought were cool. That was what crushes were, right? Girls that he could stand. He figured, based on his parents’ marriage, that he would be lucky to find a girl to marry that he could stand to be around for the rest of his life.
But when he turned eleven and sat on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, Barty realized he was wrong. His father was wrong. Wanting to share your snack or play the same game did not mean you had a crush or wanted to marry someone. No.
It was the way he got a wriggly stomach ache, a nervous urge to check his appearance. It was the way he couldn’t help but stare in unadulterated awe.
And his father was wrong, too, because the person who made him feel that way was a boy.
It took him almost six years after that to admit it, but in his heart, in that very moment, he knew: he wouldn’t be marrying a girl. He would be marrying Evan Rosier.
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*in a bad situation*
Evan: Bee, you should not be vibing at a time like this.
Barty *dissociating, moving his head a bit to song that no one else can hear*: ha?
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Rosekiller you would’ve loved rage room dates
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Regulus looking into the mirror seeing who he really is 🏳️⚧️
Happy pride month 🏳️🌈
If you like my art, you can follow me on Instagram and support me on Ko-fi 💕
Link to my FREE Patreon
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