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@jegulus-microfic | april 26: aimless | 1,276 words | trans! regulus
james does regulus' tape binding aftercare <3
James lingers in the doorway, quietly observing Regulus in their softly lit bathroom.
He's perched on the ledge of the bathtub, seemingly lost in thought, his head bowed and fingers idle and aimless where they trace the rim of it. He's shirtless, clad in only boxers and socks. His bare thighs press against the cool porcelain, causing goosebumps to rise there. Soft, late evening light leaks from the window, casting gentle shadows against his frame.
Outside, the rhythmic passing of cars punctuates the stillness, their headlights casting golden beams that dance across the wet asphalt. The nearby stoplight's red glow mingles with them, creating a surreal mix of colors on the shimmering pavement.
There's a soft rustle of movement as James enters the room behind Regulus, moving to the sink. He sifts through the contents of their vanity, hands passing over their shared face wash and the cup holding their toothbrushes to retrieve the items needed for Regulus' tape aftercare. Deft hands gather oil, washcloths, cotton swabs, and salve before placing them on the bathtub ledge. He approaches Regulus with a tenderness reserved only for moments like these, for him.
"Ready, love?" James' voice breaks the silence with a mellow murmur. He settles his weight behind him.
Regulus turns his head, giving a small nod against his own shoulder. "Yeah," he says, voice crackling from disuse.
James leans in to press a kiss between Regulus' shoulder blades. He lingers there for a moment. This close, he can see the faint dusting of freckles that mark his back. They're spattered across the skin like spray from a wave on sand. Speckles in shades of russet, sepia, and chocolate dance across his pale skin, shifting as Regulus shivers lightly. As James' lips leave his back, the muscles beneath those pretty dots tremble.
James reaches for the oil, uncaps it, and warms it between his hands. He presses both his palms to Regulus, carefully smoothing the oil over the edges of the tape. His touch follows the span of the tape from Regulus' back, under his arms, to the front of his chest. His movements are slow and practiced, designed as much to reassure as to treat. The oil glistens slightly on Regulus' skin, catching the dim light as it begins to soften the adhesive.
As they wait for the tape to loosen, a comfortable silence settles over them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city and their own quiet breathing. James doesn't stop his ministrations; his fingers continue to trace gentle paths along Regulus' shoulders, the back of his neck, following the delicate contours of his shoulder blades. These moments are so special to him; he wants Regulus to feel loved through his actions, to experience the same palpable surge of affection with each pass of his hands that James feels. There is so much trust that Reg offers him in these moments—it's intimate. James is the only person Regulus allows to see the most vulnerable parts of himself, and that knowledge alone makes James' heart swell with fondness and love. He has never loved someone as he does Regulus.
Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.
Sometimes, James thinks Regulus was crafted specifically for him; as if the cosmos themselves conspired to mold him to perfectly complement the contours of James' own body, his own soul. Looking back, it's almost silly to him now—he thought he knew what love was like before him. His heart was already overflowing with it for Sirius, his mum, his dad, his friends. He's always had big emotions, brimming with affection and fierce protectiveness for the people around him. He's always cared deeply and felt profoundly, but nothing could have prepared him for the depth of feeling that Regulus brought into his life.
James knows nothing, nobody else could ever make him feel like this.
He settles his hands on the edges of the tape on Regulus' left side. "Gonna take it off now, okay?"
"Yeah, okay James. Go ahead"
James pulls at the tape gently, easing it from the skin. He's careful not to pull too hard or move too fast, patient as he works. He grabs Regulus' bicep, thumb pressing into the underside, fingers curling over. "Lift your arm up, Reg," he instructs softly.
Regulus raises his arm, holding it aloft as James' hand moves back down to steady the skin being separated from the tape. He can't resist pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his bicep before continuing to peel off the tape there. When he encounters a tough spot, where the tape still clings to his skin, James reaches for more oil. He warms it between his fingers once again before lightly holding the piece back, rubbing it into the seam between Regulus' skin and the tape until it loosens enough for him to continue. He carefully removes the first piece, then works at a second, a third, before repeating the process on Regulus' right side.
There's still a faint trace of leftover adhesive where the edges of the tape once were. So, James takes a cotton swab, dips it in oil, and meticulously traces the outlines left by the pieces. He moves slowly, with deliberate delicacy, mindful of the soreness of his skin.
Once he's satisfied, James fetches the washcloth. He soaks it in warm, soapy water and carefully cleans the area, wiping away excess oil and any lingering traces of the day. Then he reaches for the salve—the last physical part of their routine, though James knows the comfort it brings goes beyond just the skin. Two of his fingers dip into the container, scooping up the soothing balm. James is so careful with him, his fingers so gentle as they spread the salve, taking extra care with the tender skin under his arms and over his ribs. He traces the rungs of them, then the dip of his chest, making sure no skin is left uncared for.
James then grabs what's technically his own shirt—a worn, soft thing that Regulus has claimed as his own, his favorite pajama top—from the ledge of the sink. He helps Regulus slip it over his head, taking advantage of every second he allows him to be so close, to take care of him.
"Feeling okay?" James asks once Regulus is settled.
He trails his hand at the hem of his shirt, slipping it underneath to rest gently on his stomach, careful not to brush the newly cared-for skin or his chest.
Regulus hums an affirmative, "mhmm." Eyes closing and head tipping back as he nods.
"I'm not just asking about your skin, love," James whispers. It's tough for Regulus sometimes, taking the tape off, sitting with his chest. It's a necessity though, for his well-being, despite the discomfort it brings. And James always does everything within his power to make it easier for him. He knows he can't fix everything, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to.
Regulus reaches back, his palm sliding from James' elbow to his hand beneath his shirt, their fingers intertwining at his stomach. Their faces are so close that Regulus' cheek drags against James' as he turns his head, planting a soft kiss on James' cheek. "I do, I feel okay. I promise," he murmurs, giving James a warm smile.
Leaning back into James' frame, Regulus lets his weight settle comfortably against him. "You make it easier," he breathes out, words floating into the space between them. Another kiss, "Thank you. I love you."
James holds him a moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, heart swelling just a little bit more. "I love you too."
#oh my god#oh my god oh my god oh my god#they’re so soft and sweet#the whole part about james feeling like reg was made for him 😭#what if i sobbed#i love this so so much#iva tag <3
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“I don’t mind being killed, but I don’t want them to touch me.”
— excerpt from Antigone by Jean Anouilh (trans. Lewis Galantiere)
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okay i couldn’t resist (original under cut)
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“That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally..."
A cute little dorlene series (a little bit more focused on Dorcas bc I love her so much) for #lesbianvisibilityweek and as we say in french bravo les lesbiennes !!
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@jegulus-microfic / resist / 290 words / @fromagony
It was just ice cream. The weather was unbearable, and James had assured Regulus that some refreshment would ease them. So, Regulus simply obliged. They were at the Potter’s beach house, and Sirius and Remus had gone for a swim. However, James insisted he would much rather go for a drive and a treat.
So here they were, James wearing a simple white shirt—a dangerous choice for someone whose favorite flavor was chocolate—under a heat that was sure to melt his ice cream entirely in minutes. Regulus ordered a lemon popsicle, but he could barely pay attention to his own treat as a luscious scene started unfolding in front of him.
James’ tongue was stained with chocolate, the ice cream melting faster than he could eat it. Brown smudges adorned the corners of his lips, making them look even more inviting. Regulus cleared his throat as he watched James's tongue spread across the flat surface of the cone. James looked up once he heard the sound.
James fucking stared at him as he tilted his head to catch some drops of ice cream with his tongue, preventing them from making a mess.
Resist. Resist. Resist.
“You okay? Is the heat getting to you? You look a bit flushed Reggie,” James said with a smirk.
“Fine. Have you finished making a spectacle of yourself or can we go back to a place with an air conditioner?”
“Always such a princess,” James teased, almost as if he was daring Regulus.
Regulus took the bait. He leaned in, close enough to see drips of sweat on James’ neck, licked his thumb, and wiped the corner of James’ lip with it.
“You got kind of messy there,” he remarked, playing the game right back.
more microfics here
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Listen I’m so tired of people either drawing or writing regulus to be angelic or have an amazing ass ok I’m sorry it’s just too annoying for me
anon i encourage you to write/draw the ugly flat ass regulus of your dreams. i’m sure there’s a market for that somewhere on this website but it is not here.
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A greater woman has faith
sybillily | 3.8k words | angsty little one-shot inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift for @torturedpoetsflashfest <3
“Do you think this is my punishment?” Lily asks, pulling back a little to speak. Sybill realises that she’s crying, tears staining her cheeks. “The prophecy, I mean, and this, and the baby, and everything. Do you think it’s some kind of cosmic retribution - a curse maybe?”
Mind still reeling from the kiss, from the conversation, hands still in Lily’s hair, Sybill frowns, “Punishment for what?”
Lily laughs, or makes a noise that could be considered a laugh; it’s weak and anguished like she’s in mourning. Maybe she’s mourning Sybill, maybe this meeting is meant as a burial rather than a revival, maybe she’s mourning herself, as if she might as well already be dead, maybe she’s always already been dead.
*****
they're exes. they're miserable. things ensue.
#everyone go read this immediately or else#kara you are so brilliant#i’m kneeling between your legs with my head on your thigh listening to you so intently#as you induct me into the sybillily cult#kara tag <3
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hi hi hi 🫶 would you mind sharing your bartylus thoughts? i am so curious about them
bella! i would love to share my thoughts! giving you a giant kiss <3
barty and reg became friends when they were very young and it was definitely one of those friendships of convenience for regulus. he was constantly annoyed with this loud mouth weirdo who is catching spiders with his bare hands and showing them to him meanwhile regulus just wants to read his nancy drew books on the playground in peace. but reg is a little quiet weirdo kid too just in a different way. so neither of them have other friends and just stick together
it’s one of those things where they look up in 10 years and they’ve spent half their lives together. reg is like “how did i get here” (he loves barty more than he’s ever loved anyone) and barty is like “🥺 ten year anniversary head??” (he’s been looking for a way to merge their very beings almost since they met)
barty is obsessed with the place where regulus’ ass meets his thighs and reg is obsessed with barty’s collarbones
they can predict what the other will say in any given situation. and they often say the same thing at the exact same time. it makes barty laugh so hard because every time reg is like “get the FUCK out of my head”
regulus is terrible at making decisions so barty makes them for him (he always somehow chooses the option that regulus is secretly partial to)
they really are just that secret third thing and i love them so bad
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ph. Agnès Geoffray
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Coiffure Avant-Garde: A Symphony of Strands by 999999999sx
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