#microfic prompt

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Gown - Oct 8 - @rosekillermicrofic - 401 words - Warnings: none

Xenophilius Lovegood and Pandora Rosier were set to get married on a sunny Saturday in the Wizarding part of Northern Ireland. Barty, forever an Englishman, was admittedly a little peeved about the venue, but he honestly hadn’t meant to show up an hour later than he was meant to.

“Barty Crouch!” Dorcas yelled at him as soon as he entered the bridal suite. “You are so late.”

“Please, that’s my father,” Barty joked weakly as Dorcas stormed over to him. “Just call me Barty.”

“How about I call you ‘idiot’?” Dorcas seethed, grabbing him by one arm and tugging him further into the room. He could hear the voices of Regulus, Evan and Pandora in the other room, laughing.

When the entered the room, Pandora was already fully dressed in her wedding gown, a full face of beautiful makeup, and her hair tied up in an intricate updo that made her look ethereal. Barty made his way over to her first, giving her a barely-there kiss on the cheek so as to not ruin her makeup.

“You make an absolutely stunning bride, Panda,” Barty greeted, and she beamed at him.

“Isn’t it all just lovely?” Pandora gushed, hand flying up to her detailed hairstyle. “Regulus did the braids, but Evan twisted them up into the bun.”

Barty looked up first at Regulus, who was glaring at him harshly, but that was really nothing new. Barty sent him a salacious wink. Then Barty turned to look at Evan.

There was no way he could have ever been prepared for this. Evan, like Regulus and himself, was wearing a full tuxedo, steam-pressed and fitted to his exact measurements. Except, unlike Regulus whatsoever, Barty couldn’t seem to rip his eyes away from Evan. The black lines cut into his tall frame beautifully, making him appear even taller and thinner. The crisp white undershirt was stunning against Evan’s dark skin. His dreads were tied up away from his face, but he had placed gold beads around some of the strands, glinting in the bright lights of the bridal suite.

Barty was sorry to say that Pandora’s brother had greatly shown her up on her own wedding day, not that he would ever tell her that. Evan was smirking at him now, clearly all too aware of the effect he was having on Barty.

It was going to be a very, very long wedding ceremony, indeed.

[musicoftheheart]

“Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”

thank you! there was no ship specified, so i thought id write a wolfstar fic for a bit of change <3

word count: 545

Monday mornings always sucked. Anyone who disagreed was a psychopath.

Enter Sirius Black, who somehow thrived on hell morning. From the smell wafting in from the kitchen matched with the cold spot of the bed to his right, Remus guessed Sirius was already up, showered, and making breakfast for them both. Honestly, aside from waking up alone, it wasn’t too bad; Remus couldn’t remember the last time he’d made his own breakfast, other than Sirius’ birthday last month.

The pair of them had moved in together a little over a year ago, after leaving Hogwarts and being thrust into the real world. Sirius had started, then promptly quit, auror training, then switched professions to become a trophy boyfriend when he realised he did not, in fact, want to be an auror as much as he thought. Remus thought it was because Sirius had expected to go through it with James, who also dropped out to pursue quidditch professionally, and without his best mate with him, training just wasn’t as fun.

Remus, with the support of Professor McGonagall, had decided to further his education to become a professor. He’d been unsure at first, considering his furry little problem, but Minnie had insisted that when he was ready, he would be more than welcome back at Hogwarts.

First, though, he had to actually finish his teaching course.

Dragging himself out of bed, Remus quickly showered and dressed, but when it came to drying off his hair, he couldn’t find the hairdryer anywhere. Sure, he could just use a spell, but he and Sirius both preferred the muggle way; it made their hair much softer and fluffier than a spell would.

”Padfoot?” Remus called out, rummaging through their bedroom drawers. “Have you seen the— oh.”

There, underneath a pair of Sirius’ boxers, sat a black velvet box. Gingerly, Remus picked it up, one finger stroking lightly over the top.

”Oh, fuck.”

He turned to the doorway, where Sirius — wide eyed and panicked — hovered between looking like he might run away, or run and snatch the box from Remus’ hands.

”Moony…” he breathed — panted, really — eyes flicking between Remus and the box. “You weren’t meant to find that.”

Without warning, Remus burst out laughing. “The underwear drawer, Pads! Really?”

Sirius blushed a beautiful shade of pink, but pouted. “My underwear drawer! You never go in there!”

Remus kept laughing. “Oh my god, Sirius.”

”Stop! Here, look. Give it here, then.” Sirius stepped closer, but Remus backed up, holding the box safely out of his boyfriend’s grasp.

”Don’t you dare,” Remus warned lowly. “You are not about to propose to me in our bedroom on a random Monday morning.”

Sirius let out a huff of laughter. “So, what? You know now — there’s no point in waiting unless you don’t want to marry me.”

Quick to reassure Sirius’ obvious uncertainty, Remus said, “I do want to, but I want it properly.” Lifting Sirius’ boxers back up, he tucked the velvet box underneath them and shut the drawer again. “There. Like I never knew. Now, where did you leave the hairdryer?”

And if, a few weeks later on Christmas morning when Sirius bent down on one knee, Remus acted a little too surprised — well, that was their little secret as to why.

[sapphicmicrofics]

March HP Femslash Prompts

March prompts for Sapphic Microfics!

Yes! We're back! (For March and April)!

These prompts can be taken and interpreted every which way you want, including changing the tense or pronouns or order of any dialogue. You do not have to stick with what might be the most straightforward association, and every individual prompt post will include a few suggestions to get you started.

This event is open to any HP femslash ship, any era, any character, OCs welcome.

All these prompts can be combined with other events (as long as they also allow you to combine prompts)!

If inspiration strikes, you are still allowed to write for any of the previous prompts!

The rules for this event can be found here, the previously submitted fics are all here and in this collection on AO3, and if you want to search them by ship you can do so here!

Sapphic Microfics is hosted by @hpsaffics, whose discord server holds a specific channel where these prompts and the incoming fics are excitedly discussed, so if you’re looking for people to talk with, check them out! (The server is 18+, keep that in mind!)

The prompts:

Teeth

Selfish

Muggles

Golden

Impossible

Bridge

Accident

Masked Ball

"They're gone"

Petunias

Nightmares

Toast

Title

Jacket

"Don't ruin it."

Bleeding

Field

Horses

Stress

Snow

Pond

Theatre

Hogsmeade

Prom

Illness

Bunny

Family

Pastel

Storm

Relief

Eggs

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Okay so y’all know about the fact that in old films, chocolate syrup was sometimes used as fake blood? Since it was in black-and-white the brown colour didn’t matter while filming. I think it was used around the 1960’s…?

Imagine Regulus and James being actors back then and filming a scene where one of them is dead and covered in “blood” and the other one is grieving (of course, it was the 1960’s so no one intended for the scene to come across as gay but it did, trust me, it really did and no one but the gays knew it and they couldn’t say anything). And afterwards Reg is still covered in chocolate syrup and the two of them are left alone in a room and they both stand up and James moves closer to wipe the chocolate off of Reg’s face and they’re so very close and and-

[artaxlivs]

i was afraid to follow

written for the July @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pool’ wc: 442| rated: M 

My Masterlist

They’ve been kissing for long enough that Eddie has to remind himself to come up for air. Steve’s lips are puffy and spit slick against his own. His boyfriend’s lips. They’re boyfriends now.

One of Eddie’s arms is flung loosely around Steve’s shoulders, the other is buried in Steve’s hair tilting his head where Eddie wants it. Eddie’s doing all the work on the kissing part, Steve’s doing all the work to keep them afloat. His arms out to the sides to swirl and push at the water while his swimmer legs kick them back up every time they start to sink below the surface.

Eddie would kick, too, but his legs have other things to do. They’re busy wrapping themselves around Steve’s hairy thighs or squeezing Steve’s hips between his knees. Because neither of them is wearing swim trunks and Eddie can never resist having his entire body touching Steve’s entire body as often as possible.

They’ll have to get out soon. Pool sex is fun in theory but messy in reality. 

Tugging on Steve’s hair, Eddie gives him one last filthy kiss before pulling back and fluttering his eyes open.

It takes him a few seconds to realize what’s different. It’s dark. The pool light is off for some reason. In the light from the moon, Eddie sees the flash of fear across Steve’s face, his catch of breath, the tense of his core where it’s pressed against Eddie.

Eddie breathes out, “We’re okay, Stevie. It’s just the lightbulb.” There’s a second, though, where Eddie is terrified to put his legs down so they can swim to the shallow end. Steve’s legs are already extended though so Eddie does it, laughs it off. “Come on big guy, race you to the steps.”

Steve returns his grin and the tense of his muscles is different now, competitive jock posturing but Eddie knows Steve won’t leave him behind. Would never leave him behind.

And then the light flickers.

All the air in Eddie’s lungs evaporates. It happens so fast. Steve’s eyes widen, his pupils dilate, a water droplet falls from his hair and then he’s just - gone. Eddie wasn’t even holding on. His arms were just resting on Steve and now there’s nothing. The surface barely registers the splash.

Eddie runs. Swims. Pulls his naked ass up the steps and out of the pool to scramble away to safety. The light flickers back on and the pool is empty. No. No.

When the kids find him like that the next day, they’ll say Eddie couldn’t have done anything but that won’t be true. He could have followed. He could have followed.

[ye-olde-trojan-horse]

a cup of coffee

from @jegulus-microfic's prompt, coffee [545 words]

The receptionist slides a key card across the table and James pockets it, desperate to get to the hotel room after a long flight.

Tired.

James has trouble keeping his mind wandering at the best of times; when he’s tired, let’s just say he has zero control. Like, at all. So, it’s no surprise that shortly after he collapses on the bed (which, for the record, feels like the softest cloud EVER), James ends up scrolling through his message history with Regulus.

It’s the first time they’ve been in the same city since ending things. Or sort of ending things; James still isn’t really sure what happened.

How did we end up like this?

Strangers. Lovers. Then strangers once again.

The thing is, James also has zero control over his impulses; he’s tired… sue him. He clicks sends before even registering what his fingers are doing.

[james] i’m in town staying at the gascogne hotel

[james] meet in the lobby for coffee??

In truth, he doesn’t expect a response— it’s too far into the night to be reasonable for a coffee catch up.

Besides, Regulus has no reason to reply. So why would he?

~~~

It’s late, probably too late for Regulus to be going for a stroll sober and alone, but he’s always found it easier to clear his head under the stars. Sorting through the tangle of thoughts, he assigns each one to its respective box— life is less complicated when it’s compartmentalised.

His phone chimes; who the fuck is messaging at this hour? Regulus sighs, it’s probably just Barty with some meme they felt the need to share but upon looking at the notification, Regulus stops dead in his tracks, paralysed.

They haven’t spoken in two months; the last thing James had said was that he needed Regulus. But Regulus doesn’t like needing people and he doesn't like people needing him. So, he had disappeared.

Two months he’s been trying to swim, wasting his life and breath on people who don’t deserve it, trying to move on from whatever it was that had been between them.

But-

Are we as hopeless as I think?

Maybe, there’s still a thread he’s hanging onto.

[regulus] I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

~~~

James is on his second coffee, trying (yet again) to keep his thoughts in check but the concoction of caffeine and daydreams always lead back to Regulus. He puts the steaming cup down, looks up and suddenly is caught in freefall. Regulus hovers beside the armchair opposite, like he’s too afraid to sit down and commit to a conversation.

Silence wraps around Regulus like a coiled serpent, its fangs poised to strike, making James uneasy as their shared history replays in his mind. They lock eyes; memories both bitter and sweet, resurfacing.

“Can we talk?” James asks, fidgeting nervously with his fingers.

Fuck, this is a mistake.

But something soft seems to flicker across Regulus’s face, even if only for a moment. It looks something like hope, a fragile flame, desperate to be coaxed to life.

“Sure,” Regulus nods, taking a seat.

James draws in a deep breath and lets himself relax a little; maybe, they can work this out.

Because Regulus is choosing to be here.

Meeting him for a cup of coffee.

(based on this song ☺️)

[steviesummer]

what you cannot hold (wanting)

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘hole’ wc: #404 | rated: G| cw: angst, unrequited love (maybe)

There’s a hole in Steve’s heart that gets bigger every year. He doesn’t know when it started, surely just a pinprick, but he remembers when he first noticed it. He was 12; his parents talked about how grown up he was as they left on their trip, but all he could feel was that hole opening up inside him.

Nancy tore it further, grip strong from where she’d been holding it closed. Maybe he should have known better, known not to let another person get that close, but it was too late. It was only the arrival of Dustin and the need to protect the kids that kept him from bleeding out.

Robin snuck in, smoothing the edges other had left sharp and jagged. He wasn’t ready to let anyone in but that didn’t matter. It never mattered. He tucked her secrets inside, promising to keep them safe.

The kids starting high school undid all the progress he’d made. They needed him less and less- busy with school and full of hero-worship for Eddie Munson when he did see them.

He couldn’t blame them. Eddie was loud and never afraid to be himself. He put himself out there and played their game; he would have been more surprised if they hadn’t clicked.

Guilt and jealousy had him ripping at the seams of his heart, hoping one day he’d be able to pick enough threads loose that he could sew it up himself. Keep himself safe from pain.

Then Vecna came, and Eddie nearly died, and they got closer too. Steve thought maybe this was it, maybe Eddie would be kind to his tattered heart.

But Eddie was going places. Steve listened when he talked about getting out of Hawkins, becoming a rockstar. He knew he didn’t fit in that dream either. After all they’d been through, Steve just wanted peace. To feel safe and whole.

Every day, he smiled and ignored the way his battered heart raced. One by one, everyone moved on- to college or work or their dreams. Steve just stayed, couldn’t leave, not yet.

Maybe someday things would be different. Their dreams would line up or they’ll both find someone new or time would heal him. Until then, Steve can pretend like his heart is still in one piece. Until then, Steve would hold the gaping wound inside close. There’s a hole in Steve’s heart and it gets bigger every year.

[carrythispictureforluck]

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: 15 - martyr

TW: swearing

Remus furiously starts packing. Throwing sweaters, socks, and any book he could lay his hands on into the open bag on the bed. 

He could hear footsteps pacing downstairs. There wasn't a lot of time.

He grabbed his reading glasses from the nightstand, and on impulse he grabs his favourite picture of Sirius, taken on their final day of school. Pete had said something to the group about the next time they’d all be together would be Remus and Sirius’ wedding, and Lily had captured a frozen moment in time of Sirius looking at Remus with pure, loving joy at the idea. It was overwhelming, even now, to see Sirius look at him that way. Remus always knew he didn't deserve Sirius.. And now he was proven right.

He shoves the picture frame into the bag, zips it up and hurls it onto his shoulder.

Making his way carefully down the stairs, Remus heads towards the front door. But he’s stopped the moment he sees the look on Sirius’ face at him leaving. 

“So you were just going to walk out?” Sirius murmurs.

“You didn't exactly give me much choice Pads” Remus replies, strained with the effort of not caving to the look of sorrow on his face.

“I gave you every choice, Moony. You’re just choosing the wrong ones”

“No, you chose wrong when you turned yourself over to the ministry” Remus spits out harshly, putting the bag down by the door. Clearly they were doing this now.

“I did that for you Rem! They were going to expose you, it would have ruined any chance you had of getting a job, it would have outcast you.” Sirius looks on the verge of tears, moving cautiously towards the door, as if not to spook Remus away.

“I didn't ask you to become a martyr, Sirius!” Remus doesn't yell, but his voice raises a few levels and he watches Sirius flinch at the change in tone. “You’ve now destroyed any chance of the job you and James had your heart set on. They’ll never take an illegal animagus as an Auror. And you’ve left me with the guilt of ruining that for you.”

“I never would have blamed you for my choice Remus..” Sirius looks down at his sock-clad feet.

“Well I can’t watch the inevitable regret and bitterness form, because I know it will come eventually. One day when you’re listening to James tell a heroic story about stopping a dark wizard, you’ll look to me as the reason it wasn't you.”

Remus picks up his bag, turning to open the door.

“No” Sirius whimpers, reaching out to pull at Remus’ arm holding the bag in place.

“Sirius..”

“No” Sirius repeats, more firmly. “I won’t let you throw this away. Throw us away. None of this fucking matters Remus, I don’t fucking care what job I work. I’ll be a stay-at-home husband for all I care, I just- I just want you” he finishes as the tears that were forming begin to fall.

And that was all it took for Remus to cave into Sirius’ arms, stroking his hair as Sirius continued to cry softly into his shoulder. Maybe Remus didn't deserve Sirius, but he couldn't hurt him any further either.

Word count: 541

[fizzyginfizz]

Smile

@hinnymicrofic

"This is the most warped idea my brothers have ever come up with," Ginny sighed as she stared Harry down. "They smell opportunity. When has anyone been in better position to dethrone the reigning staring contest champion?" Harry crossed his arms, a seriously bland expression on his face. "No way you're making me smile. If I win, Ron promised to do my laundry for the rest of the summer." "The last time Ron did laundry, he forgot to separate the lights and colors." Harry shrugged. "I'm okay with pink socks when I don't have to fold them." "If you win, which you won't." "I will. I'm in the zone. What did Hermione call it?" "Five stages of grief." "Did any of those stages include smiling?" "Don't remember. I tuned out around stage two-and-a-half." "Allow me to me summarize: I'm a shoo-in." "Potter, I could have made you smile twenty minutes ago. I'm trying to be sensitive." "Hence, my strategic advantage." "You're taking advantage of my better nature?" "Your brothers have warned me your better nature is a ruse." "Nice try," Ginny gestured at her face. "You can't make me smile, either. Stalemate. We may be here for days." "Surrender. Think about it. I have no reason to smile. Ever. Orphan, you know." "Pfft. You're playing the orphan card?” “Sirius would want me to play the orphan card. It’s a winning play, he’d want me to win.” “Hmm. Interesting. Abandoning ‘funny’ and trying to inspire an empathetic, ‘aren’t-you-brave’ soft sad smile.” “You tempted?” “Was that a side of ‘smirk’ with that question? Smirks are a subset of smile.” Ron poked his head in. “You’re supposed to staring at each other until one of you breaks! Why are you talking?” Ginny kept her eyes on Harry. “Because Harry’s terrible at this game. I’m so depressed I’m about to summon a pint of ice cream underscored by Celestina Warbeck’s Weepiest Ballads, volume 2." Harry pressed his lips together. Ginny sensed weakness. “Or is it volume 3? Which one has the song about the tiny withered peter on the lying worthless cheater who left her for a Beater from where-the-hell-is-Timbuktu?” Harry broke. "Damn,” his shoulders buckled, shaking with the chuckle he was desperately trying to contain. Still, the quirking at the corners of his mouth was just enough of a smile to count. Then, to Ginny’s delight, Harry gave up entirely. His smile widened until it wasn’t even a smile anymore. It was a flat-out, crinkled eye corners, dimple-inducing grin. “She won!" Harry laughed over his shoulder, to the three redheads hovering beyond the kitchen door. "I always win," Ginny shrugged, over the sounds of disgruntled cursing from the siblings beyond the threshold. Harry smiled, unabashed, his emerald eyes full of life for the first time since the Department of Mysteries. Yeah, Ginny thought, as she chuckled. She won…way more than a staring contest.

[taylorswiftmicrofic]

October 24 – tolerate it

Inspired by tolerate it Rules & FAQs

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Show - Oct 30 - @rosekillermicrofic - 808 words - Warnings: none

“Will you please stop by Spellbinding Sound for me?” Pandora begged as soon as Evan picked up her call.

“‘Hello, Evan, my dearest brother,’” Evan said dryly. “I think you’re supposed to greet me at the very least before asking for a favor.”

Pandora sighed noisily. “I just need a new pack of reeds for my clarinet, and you know which ones to buy.”

Evan sighed back at her. “I suppose it is on the way home. I’ll drop by for you, if you make me dinner.”

“Deal,” Pandora said, hanging up immediately. Evan looked at his phone blankly, offended for a moment, before remembering she was probably in the middle of practicing when she called.

Spellbinding Sound was a small music supply shop that Pandora favored, and Evan had been sent there a few times on errands for her. He usually didn’t mind; the owner, an older man named Albus, was kind and patient. When Evan entered the store, though, he was already helping a customer.

“Would you like me to restring the instrument for you?” Albus was asking the man in front of him. The man was shorter than Evan, with dark, tousled hair and several face piercings: two on his lip, another on his eyebrow, another on his nose, too many to count on both ears. He was wearing a graphic band t-shirt over ripped-up jeans, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. His bare arms were covered in tattoos, and they continued up his neck and down his hands. Evan found himself wondering where else the man was tattooed.

“No, thanks,” the man said in a smooth voice. “I like to do it myself.”

He picked up his strings, which Evan assumed were for some sort of guitar or bass for his punk band, based on the man’s appearance. The man nearly ran into Evan when he spun around and walked towards the door with a swift gait.

“My bad,” the man said, worrying one of the lip rings between his teeth for a moment. “I’m Barty.”

Confused as to why the man gave his name, Evan responded with his own. “Evan.”

Evan tried to step around Barty, but Barty stepped into his path again.

“You like music?” Barty asked, and before Evan could answer, he continued talking. “You should come to my show. Friday night at the Slytherin Stage. I hope I’ll see you there.”

Evan watched him walk out the door, raising both eyebrows at the man’s gall. Inviting him to a show was one thing, but leaving directly after the invite was just dramatic. Evan shook it off and stepped up to the counter and greeted Albus.

“Does Pandora need new reeds?” Albus asked knowingly, his eyes sparkling. Evan nodded. They chatted amicably while Albus grabbed the reeds for Evan, and processed the payment for them. Soon enough, Evan was on his way home to Pandora.

Evan didn’t even know why he was attending the concert. He wasn’t a punk music person — but something about Barty had made him want to learn more. Maybe it was his overconfidence or attractiveness, but Evan felt compelled to come to his show that evening. He was surprised that attendees were dressed so nicely, and he was glad that he had come directly after work, so he was still wearing his nice work slacks and a button-down shirt. As he took his seat in the audience, in a gorgeous emerald-green auditorium. He was starting to think he had greatly misread the man he’d spoken to, because there was no way he was about to see some sort of punk band performance.

Nerves flew in his stomach as he wondered what he had signed up for, just as the curtains pulled back and revealed an entire full symphony orchestra. Evan scanned the faces of every single person until he found Barty, sitting at the very front left. He was first chair violin, the goddamn concertmaster. Evan had him pegged completely wrong.

To make matters worse, Barty looked even more attractive in the emerald green suit and tie, with his instrument propped on his knee and his bow in his other hand. Evan had been so stupid to assume he played the guitar, when clearly Barty’s body had been made to hold the violin. The conductor raised his hands, and then lovely music filled the auditorium as the orchestra began.

Evan was entranced. He watched Barty throughout the entire performance, never taking his eyes off Barty’s graceful movements. He ended up lingering by the side stage, waiting for Barty after the show. When the man emerged, he looked surprised to see Evan there.

“You came,” he said softly, before seemingly shaking confidence back into himself. “You liked the show, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Evan said. “I really did.”

And then he stepped forward and kissed Barty.

[musicoftheheart]

hiiiiiiii dori

i’ve written a prompt for you and it feels like something you may enjoy writing so i’m sharing it with you:

“Goodbye, James.”

Thats was the last time he’d heard Regulus’ voice

The first time he saw the Dark Mark across his lover’s arm

And the moment he decided to go against everything he’d ever learned.

Ever treasured.

Ever believed in.

Just to see his lover again.

omg hiii! thank you so much for this, it was so much fun to write <33

word count: 658

“Goodbye, James.”

That was the last time he’d heard Regulus’ voice.

The first time he saw the Dark Mark across his lover’s arm.

And the moment he decided to go against everything he’d ever learned.

Ever treasured.

Ever believed in.

Just to see his lover again.

As much as it shamed him to admit it, James was almost glad his parents weren’t around to see it; to see the deep black ink marring his forearm. He wasn’t sure he could’ve stomached seeing them realise that their son — the boy they’d cradled in their arms, the boy they’d raised to be kind and thoughtful and loving — had branded himself the same as murderous blood purists.

But that was just it, wasn’t it? James had been raised to love and to protect the people closest to him. And nobody had been as close to him as Regulus Black.

He could still feel the ghost of his touch, when he thought hard enough. It was all that kept him going when he’d thrown his first Avada Kedavra; it was all for Regulus. To protect him. To show him that no matter what he did, he was never ‘too cruel’ or ‘too monsterous’ for James. Because anything Regulus had done, James had too, now.

James was yet to see Regulus at any meetings, though. Or missions. Crouch Jr. said it was because James wasn’t very high in the ranks, yet.

So he rose.

He rose and he rose until even Bellatrix Lestrange was beneath him. She feared him, even. The Dark Lord was letting James lead missions; letting him plan them and decide who to bring and who to kill and who to curse until they forgot their own name. It pained him, at first. These were his friends, and he had to treat them like enemies. Marlene, Dorcas. Alice and Frank. Lily, Peter, Remus. Sirius.

For Regulus, James reminded himself, flinging a slicing hex at one of the Prewett brothers.

For Regulus, James thought, using his animagus form to spy on Order meetings.

For Regulus, James thought, facing down children on the battlefield.

He was slowly becoming more and more numb to it. Eventually, he wasn’t sure he felt anything at all.

But then.

It was a meeting like any other. The Dark Lord’s inner circle sat at the table, while lower ranking Death Eaters stood around the room. One seat eternally empty — Regulus’ — between The Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy, and directly opposite James. James had resigned himself to another hour of missing his love when, moments before the meeting was to begin, the doors swung open.

There, moving across the large manor dining room with the grace and presence of royalty, was Regulus Black. Perfect black curls smoothed back from his face, showing his sharp cheekbones and icy cold eyes and pursed lips.

James couldn’t wait to feel them again.

Regulus didn’t seem to notice him, at first, but James could see it the moment he did. Those gorgeous eyes widened just a touch, his lips fell apart. It took all of James’ self control not to throw himself across the table and invade them with his tongue.

At a guess, James reckoned Regulus took in as little of the meeting as he did himself. Their eyes had locked across the table and it seemed like nothing at all could break their stares, not until The Dark Lord announced the meeting’s conclusion and Regulus all but ran from the room like it was on fire.

By the time James caught up to him, Regulus had hidden himself away in a small drawing room and was pacing, hands tugging at his hair. He turned abruptly when James shut the door behind himself.

”James,” he breathed, running into James’ arms. Everything James had done — the curses he’d thrown, the lives he’d ended — it all fell away into nothing. All that was left was the love cradled in his arms.

”Hello, love.”

[drwhoisginnyholmes]

Duck, Hero - Jan 29,30

Now Remus would typically say that his self-preservation skills were honed to a T, but when you have just entered a room and hear the word “DUCK!” screamed at you from the ceiling, he thinks you can excuse him from landing on his arse after being bowled over by one pesky little Snitch.

He felt the breeze of the brooms before he heard the pounding of feet.

“Moony! You ok?”

Sirius appeared above him, followed closely by James and Peter.

“Nothing's broken besides my pride and maybe a book spine or two.”

Sirius reached out a hand to help him up while James and Peter helped pick up his scattered book stack. Remus opened his hand, the Snitch partially crushed but vibrating on his palm. James whooped and grabbed it before planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“My hero.” He hopped on his broom and lifted off into the Commonroom before Remus could lay a hand on him. Peter giggled and followed James.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to fly in here?”

“Since when have we ever followed the rules, Moony?” Sirius grinned bright and mischievous as he joined his mates in the air. “Oi Potter! Lips off! That one’s mine.”

Remus sighed and shook his head as he wandered towards the tables, trying to ignore the joyous shouts of his friends while he hit the books. His charms essay wasn’t going to write itself.

@wolfstarmicrofic

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Everyone read this Jily (not so short) microfic RIGHT NOW!!! It’s based off of a silly little post I did a while back… thankfully @unhinged-as-hell read it! She poured her HEART and SOUL into this fic, and I kinda feel bad for putting her through all this so uh, PRETTY PLEASE read this fic! If not for her then for me 😭

It’s really good! The first Jily fanfic I’ve ever read. 10/10 read ❤️💞

P.S If you don’t like Jily or you’re just not interested, please reblog! :)

[sapphicmarauding]

The June prompts are here!

As you can see, we're switching to a daily prompts system since the weekly system doesn't work anymore, even with additional prompts/guidelines. We hope you enjoy this month's theme: space!

All prompts can be combined with other prompts from June, from previous months and from other challenges such as @sapphicmicrofics !

Our introduction post | masterlist

May prompts

Transcriptions of all the prompts under the cut:

- 1 Galaxy

- 2 Venus

- 3 Journey

- 4 Glow

- 5 Mistake

- 6 “So much universe, and so little time.” - Terry Pratchett

- 7 Starlight by Taylor Swift

- 8 Astronomy

- 9 The sky’s the limit

- 10 The sun

- 11 Constellation(s)

- 12 Supernova

- 13 Starman by David Bowie

- 15 Moon

- 16 Atmosphere

- 17 Radiant

- 18 Darkness

- 19 Comet

- 20 Star(s)

- 21 Solstice

- 22 Tentative

- 23 Starships

- 24 Astrology

- 25 Compass

- 26 Telescope

- 27 From another world

- 28 Celestial

- 29 Fly

- 30 Infinite

[fictionismyescapeblog]

One Drink Too Many

Day 21 Prompt: Dishevel Characters/Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley Rating: T Word Count: 51 C/W: Light Language, Implied Sex

It wasn’t supposed to turn into this. One drink to eliminate the past and toast the future.

Ginny sighed, cringing as her fingers caught the tangles in her unruly hair. 

She glanced at Draco sleeping beside her, their quidditch robes littering the bedroom floor. 

Fuck the ferret and his long fingers.