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Late birthday art for Prongs 💙💙

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he’s your favorite marauder’s favorite marauder! 💥

hbd jimmy james & s/o to nat @otrtbs for insipiring me 🤭

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“she’s not evil she’s traumatized” actually she’s both. women contain multitudes

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you know what i LIKE that james and sirius were arseholes who cursed the shit out of blood supremacists at their school. punch a nazi

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worlds slowest fanfic author tries really really hard

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Them

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“James!”

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James dragging Regulus off to their bedroom to cuddle and Regulus thinking he's getting laid. This definitely happened at least once.

But the opposite of Regulus dragging James to the bedroom to fuck and James getting excited over the impending cuddle session? Yeah no, that definitely happened too

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looking at your bank account is so scary...like when I spend money it goes away

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james: i cant believe you still hangout with my ex

sirius: he’s my fucking brother

sirius: who you shouldn’t have been dating from the start

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trying to write s*l*r fl*r* but my brain keeps making me imagine pouty, begging omega james

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what’s meant to be is meant to be. if you even care.

(pls click for higher res i worked really hard on this)

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Evan and Barty kissed

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@rosekillermicrofic , february 21 , ignore, words: 1036, mild nsfw — for mi @er9tic !! hope it's a nice start to your day<33

this is a part 2 of this one!

It had been half an hour of this already. They sat cross-legged on Evan’s bed, trying to figure out how exactly the process of brewing Amortentia worked. Why Evan had chosen this particular topic for his essay, Barty would never know. He was fairly good at Potions, while Evan excelled more at wand work; Defense Against the Dark Arts and intricate charms.

But it wasn’t the essay on Amortentia or its complicated brewing method that was frustrating Barty, no. It was the damn lollipop that Evan still had in his mouth, the way his red-stained tongue kept distracting Barty, making him lose track of the words in front of him. It was the way Evan kept pulling the candy out, using it as a prop while he asked Barty questions, only to suck the aftertaste from his lips. The sound of it made Barty shift, adjusting the bedsheet draped around Evan’s shoulders–the other end of it covering Barty’s lap in a poor attempt to conceal his growing erection.

“So, it’s supposed to go three times clockwise after the first tear is dropped, and then instantly counterclockwise, right?” Evan asked, confused, his eyes shifting between the paper and Barty.

Barty wasn’t trying to ignore him, but his eyes were still focused on the candy between Evan’s fingers, the hand resting on his knee, just out of Barty’s reach.

“B, are you listening to me?” Evan nudged Barty’s leg with his other knee, trying to pull his attention back.

It was only then that Barty processed what Evan had asked. But more importantly, he’d just realized something.

“Hey, haven’t you been sucking on that lolly for almost, like, an hour now?”

Evan blinked at him, silent for a second as he examined Barty’s face, then the candy in his hand.

“Umm, yeah, and that is connected to my essay… how, exactly?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be the size of a poppy seed by now?”

“Oh, yeah. I put a permanent charm on it, so it doesn’t run out. Is that why you’ve been staring at it?” Evan grinned, acting oblivious to the suffering he was putting Barty through.

Barty cleared his throat. “No, that’s not it.”

“Then what is it, B?”

Barty swore Evan knew exactly what he was doing, messing with him on purpose.

“How come it’s a bit smaller than when you first unwrapped it?” Barty asked, already knowing the answer. And there it was–the instant drop in Evan’s expression, the faint pink decoration on his cheeks as he tried to maintain his usual nonchalance.

“I charmed it while I was talking to Reg. Why does it matter?”

Here it comes, Evan’s defensiveness, the same kind he always had when caught red-handed. He shrugged and placed the lollipop back into his mouth, eyes going back to his essay, so quick to change the subject now.

“So, clockwise be–”

Barty cut him off with a firm hand against his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. The sheets slipped from both their laps and onto the floor. Evan’s head hit the pillow with a soft thump, surprise plastered across his features. His arms were now spread out at his sides, the lollipop that he managed to rip out just in time was now dangling from his fingers.

“It matters, Evan, because there’s a reason you put that charm on.” Barty leaned over him, eyes locked onto Evan’s.

“Because I like the candy? And it helps me focus on my essay?” Evan raised his eyebrow with a little shake of his head, as if he couldn’t believe what Barty was asking him.

It’s then that Barty lowers his hips onto Evan. He watches Evan gulp as his gaze flicks down to where Barty’s cock is now pressed against his thigh.

“No, Evan. I think you just like watching me suffer.”

“Oh, is that it? Do you want a taste, then?” Evan smirked with a self-satisfied, shit-eating grin of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. He lifted the lollipop between them, offering it to Barty mockingly.

Barty looks at Evan for a second longer before slowly reaching for it with his left hand, the other one still pressed into Evan’s chest. His cock twitches at the sight of the damned thing.

He examines it for a moment, questioning himself, before gently placing it against Evan’s half-parted lips.

“Yeah, actually. I do.” Barty answers before leaning down to press his lips to both the cherry-flavored candy and Evan’s mouth. There is a surprised hitch in Evan’s breath after Barty flicks his tongue around the lollipop, using it as an excuse to feel Evan’s lips. He spins the candy between them, unsure which side belongs to whom anymore, their tastes mixing on the glossy surface.

Then, their tongues meet at the edge of the candy, and Evan lets out an obscene moan, his hips snapping forward–seeking friction against Barty’s hip.

“Barty,” Evan whimpered his name, only to flip them over in one quick motion. Now, Barty was the one being pinned, his back hitting the mattress as Evan hovered over him, the carefully maintained calm composure from before now completely gone–replaced with hungry frustration.

Evan ripped the lollipop from his mouth and flung it across the room. It hit the wall with a crack, sending hundreds of red flecks across the floor.

Before Barty could react, Evan’s hand gripped his jaw, turning his face back toward him as their lips crashed together, the fabricated cherry flavor no longer an obstacle between them.

There was nothing soft about it, nothing tame. It was all the tension that had been simmering for months, finally reaching a breaking point. Barty had always known their friendship wouldn’t last forever. It was doomed to end in either an unhealthy amount of love or spiteful hate.

And right now, with their lips clashing, tongues gliding against one another, clothes being tugged and torn, and Evan desperately trying to align their hips–

Barty thought their friendship might just end in a mix of both.

All because of a stupid lollipop. One he despised just a little less now that he realized his lips fit against Evan’s far better than the candy did.

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pride - february 23 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 195

Regulus Black believed in house pride. He was known for wearing Slytherin gear almost as much as he wore his school uniform. Not only was it easy and comfortable, but he really was proud of his house, of many of the students who belonged to it.

So when he walked into the Great Hall one day wearing a maroon and gold jacket with the letters P O T T E R on the back…well, you couldn’t blame his friends for staring.

“What?” he snapped at Dorcas, who was staring the most openly.

“You…you’re wearing James’s jacket,” she gaped, pointing at him and blinking. “Potter’s Gryffindor jacket.”

“So? Haven’t you seen someone support their boyfriend while he plays Quidditch before?” Regulus grumbled, frowning. “Now pass the marmalade.”

Dorcas exchanged glances with Barty and Evan, who were never quiet, silent with surprise. But after neither of them said a word, she just shrugged and handed Regulus the marmalade. “Here,” she murmured, deciding to drop it.

But it was then that Barty found his voice. “Oh, you’re really down bad for him,” he said, amazement and glee in his voice.

Regulus’s returning death glare could’ve killed a Basilisk.