in some timelime, somewhere

james was frantic, pacing even. regulus was laughing, james had him in a holding cell and he was fucking laughing. this was what everything was leading up to wasn’t it? sleepless nights, creases in james’ forehead growing into something he couldn’t recognise after years of tormenting searching. and now, james had him in a holding cell. the keys in his hand holding an uncertainty he didn’t like because what if he didn’t want it to be over? nothing made him burn like regulus did, like searching for the so called ‘uncatchable’ assassin did, and now it was over. it was bittersweet. james continued pacing, avoiding eye contact with anything but the floor. “jamie” regulus beckoned. james edged closer to the cell door, hands clutching the keys. “why wont you look at me, mon soleil” fuck. the relationship between them was difficult, especially for james who is pretty sure that fucking an assassin, and a pretty one at that, will land him exactly where regulus is now. a holding cell. nevertheless, he did it, and now hes in deep. deep and stupid. “detective, is it because you’re afraid to see something you dont like?” regulus questioned, “or something you do?“ james was a weak man.

on the prowl for a good 120k word jegulus fic i can read tonight 🤧

James: Did you have dinner?

Regulus: Yes, I had a salad. A fruit salad. Mostly grapes. Okay, it was all grapes. Fermented grapes.

James:

Regulus: Wine. I had wine for dinner.

circa 1977

remus: *brewing amortentia to practice for potions class*

sirius: hell yeah! you’re improving moons, all i can smell is cigarettes and healing potions.

remus: great, all i smell is wet dog, thanks. you stink.

sirius: padfoot is actually a very clean individual i wash him all the time!

*james approaching from common room*

james *yelling*: finally you and reg are making up! also reg i need to return the book i borrowed.

remus: well fuck.

sirius:

sirius: when did he borrow…? regulus isnt here?

sirius: JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER. KEEP YOUR HANDS OF MY BROTHER!

remus: prongs you better run he has steam coming from his hair.

*james pegs it*

just james on a regular tuesday walking through the outskirts of central london for fun and spotting reggie in a bookshop in muggle clothes and star earrings working as a cashier in a muggle bookshop that sells fantasy and classic novels. also james completely forgetting how to walk properly and spilling his mocha down his front at the sight. he’s completely cool about it (hes literally not)

somewhere in an art gallery

james *dusting up on art knowledge to oversee the movements of his mother’s extensive art collection*: absolutely cannot get distracted right now.

also james: is that a french accent?

regulus *over in the far corner*: bonjour mademoiselle bienvenue, i see you are taking interest in the later monets? the darker richer colours draw some attention, oui?

further james: jesus lord. *rushes over*

*remus & sirius finding a good make-out spot at the library*

remus: what’s that noise?

*regulus underneath james with his shirt half undone*

james: oh!! fancy seeing you here...!!

reg: *waves* hey

sirius: *grabs a book, aims it at regulus*

remus: no, please, not the book—

Prompt: Feb 14th - Lips | 1183 words | @jegulus-microfic

Barty Crouch is an idiot. The first time James came to this conclusion he was only 11 years old and Barty was refusing to give him back his football cause “football is not for losers, weirdo”, since then, the thought crosses his mind from time to time – Barty Crouch is an idiot. Not only an idiot, but also stupid, not only fucking stupid, but also deadass ugly, not only ugly, he is also an arrogant piece of shit, not only that, he’s also a- argh, James could go on and on about all of Barty Crouch’s flaws, he could go for hours, days, damn, even weeks if someone gave him the time of day to do so. Honestly, he can’t think of one good thing to say about the guy, nonetheless, Regulus’ been kissing him senseless for the past 7 minutes – not that James is counting or anything – seeming fucking dead set on finding Barty’s hidden qualities, if he has any, in the inside of the boy's mouth. Not that James cares that his best friend’s baby brother has been snogging the most annoying man to ever walk earth for 7 minutes and 36 fucking seconds, like they´re stuck in a game of 7 minutes in heaven or something, or, more accurately to James, 7 minutes and 49 seconds in the deepest pit of hell – not that he’s counting (whatever).

Part of him, the hopeful part, is kind of holding on to the idea that this is some weird kind of practical joke Regulus is playing on Barty, he knows James' football story, maybe that’s the way he’s found to revenge him, making Barty fall in love with him and then leaving the guy tormented by the memory of a kiss with a boy he’ll never be able to have playing in loop in his head. Part of him, the protective part, hates that fucking Barty Crouch has even the memory of a kiss to play in loop in his head, part of him wants to yank it off. Part of him, ugh, part of him is scared that Regulus is not some boy Barty can’t have. Part of him – the possessive, petty and kinda insane part – hates that it’s Barty instead of James, who has known Regulus for years, he’d know what to do to make him feel good, he’s sure he’d figure out the right buttons to push in a matter of seconds. Instead, it’s another person in what should be his place, touching Regulus in places James never will, running his tongue over his lips and tasting Regulus in ways that James will never be able to – he hates to think about the sounds that he’s dragging out of Regulus, sounds that he’s getting to hear, swallow, save for later. Fuck. James might kill the fucking guy.

It’s not like James wants to be in Barty’s place - or whatever, it’s more of a protective big brother's best friend thing, he’d rather kill himself than actually kiss Sirius’ baby brother, it’s literally the most disgusting thought that could ever cross his mind ever, literally. Which, if he’s being totally honest, it does from time, but it only causes him to experience the deepest feeling of disgust, he can literally feel his stomach doing weird loops and stuff, which can only be translated to pure and utter repulse, literally. It’s not like it’s a recurring thing or anything, it’s just that he’s a fucking 17-year-old, of course the idea of kissing people he’s always hanging out with is gonna come to him out of fucking nowhere. And like, Regulus does have this freakish pink lips that look really soft and it's kinda hard to not stare at them when he's been going on and on for hours about some book he's recently read, specially when he keeps biting his lower lip every five minutes before saying the next sentence. Not that the thought crosses his mind in a weird, out of ordinary, creepy constancy or anything, really. It's just, you know, your ordinary 17 year old boy next door normal amount of thinking about kissing your best friend’s brother – which he doesn’t by the away, just, rarely, sometimes, in a daily basis, rarely.

The point is, James is Sirius’ best friend, and Regulus is Sirius’ baby brother, James remember him as a toddler, with his big grey eyes and messy dark hair all over the place, so of course he’s gonna be concerned about Regulus’ well being and not want him to snog some dumbass just cause he found the free time to do so. He wants Regulus to be with someone that is worthy of him, not that James can think of anyone that managed to meet the criteria so far, or that ever will. Well, if he stops to think about it, in an ideal world Regulus would grow old alone and a virgin, but is that really so bad? James will visit him everyday and they’ll play videogames and do star wars marathons. Fuck it. He’ll even listen to Regulus talk about his pretentious books and let him put his depressing emo music, he already does that all the time anyway, he might even sing some of the lyrics that he’s already learned from having to listen to it every time they hang out. Well, and if from time to time Regulus happens to feel kinda alone and horny, James would even be ok to helping him out with that, you know, in the sole interest of keeping him away from losers. If that’s what it takes to save Sirius from having to endure life as the brother in law of some dumb, ugly idiot, James doesn’t mind sacrificing himself for his best friend, call him a fucking altruist if you will.

James bets Barty Crouch has never touched a single episode of Star Wars, or a book in that matter, maybe he can’t even read anything with more than fifty pages or pay attention to any movie that's longer than one hour. Also, he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’ll be able to appreciate Regulus’ music and try to actually understand and connect with the lyrics, which is the most important part to Regulus, he’ll probably try and change subjects every time Regulus tries to explain his interpretation. Basically, James is pretty sure they don’t even have anything in common to talk about, they won’t even be able to have a proper conversation! What are they gonna do? Just kiss the whole time they’re together? Every single minute without stopping so they can avoid awkward silence breaks? Ha.

The thought makes James want to instantly puke.

He hates this party, but he doesn’t want to, actually, he can’t, leave Regulus here with this idiot to do to him whatever the hell he pleases out of James sight. Fuck. He doesn’t even want to think about that. He hates absolutely everything that’s happening right now, but, most of all, he hates Barty Crouch. The reason? Barty Crouch is an idiot.

And he stole James’ football.

meeee

regulus: what does it mean when james calls me his “boyfriend”?

barty:

barty: … that you’re dating?

regulus: THAT WE ARE WHAT?? FOR HOW LONG?

barty: you have GOT to be kidding me.

when your card declines at therapy so they bring in your brother you never knew switched sides and died thinking you didnt love him.

sometime in 1977

james: oh come on lover boy, one date?

regulus: stop following me potter.

james: of course not reggie, hogsmeade?

regulus: my answer hasnt changed regardless of you asking 100 times. shouldnt you being doing something useful?

james: unless your name is suddenly ‘useful’, then i don’t think so?

regulus: potter! your brain capacity is that of a levitating feather!

james: oh do keep on talking dirty, reggie!

regulus: james!!

james:

james: oh so im james now?

regulus: fuck.

james: dont make empty promises, love!

james with a gold nose ring. POST

barista!reg: hello, can i take your order?

singledad!james: please could i get a peach iced tea? harry?

harry *peeking over counter*: a cookie!!

barista!reg: im so sorry there sweetheart, i didnt quite see you! of course you can have a cookie!!

singledad!james: ill also get your number- i mean, i mean just the cookie is fine also.

barista!reg *smiling*: right away for you.

*

later when james stumbles out of the cafe shrinking in his embarrassment, he notices the cute barista wave to harry and signal to his cup. a number is printed onto the order sticker. “text me”

just telling you all that james potter would be a gin drinker and he would get bullied for it. whilst he’s sipping on his pretty gin with frozen fruit garnishes regulus is throwing back shots of vodka. thats the post.

how do i explain to someone that i ship harry potters dad and the twink with the locket

*regulus stumbles into gryffindor tower slightly drunk*

james *sweaty from quidditch practice and still in uniform*: what? reg? what are you doing here did you get lost?

regulus: thats sinful

james: what? what is?

regulus *eying james shorts clinging onto his thighs*: downright sinful

james: oh god

regulus: he cant help me.