#nice mistake!

[arunneronthird]

ready to roll with the momentum

#decided after literally 20 minutes of staring into the middle distance that ill be posting art for my secondary blog in here #please let me introduce to u hanai from oofuri i love him #hanai azusa #oofuri #ookiku furikabutte #big windup #my art #nice mistake! #btw this is a screenshot redraw and ill be posting the original screenshot in my secondary blog catch u there!

[plusbeam]

gift for @driverzhigh! since the holidays are way over i decided lets go with a more seasonal drawing

hanai is the captain so he has to have some secret admirers! though keeping letters sent to his locker a secret is impossible with tajima around, the absolute chaotic gremlin that he is

#tajima yuuichirou #hanai azusa #oofuri #oofurixmas2023 #ookiku furikabutte #sorry for posting the last day i had a weirdly busy week #big windup #nice mistake!

[thedisablednaturalist]

You will not be able to fully understand or relate to people with differing disabilities. Being disabled yourself does not give you immunity to having biases, ableist ideas, or misunderstandings about people with different disabilities. We all have unique struggles and things that help/hurt us, and it's both beautiful and frustrating. It's what makes our community strong but it also can lead to infighting and miscommunication. Be aware of other disabilities, listen to people outside your specific condition. Don't talk over others and if you do apologize and learn from it. Don't assume because YOU haven't encountered something that it means anyone talking about it is lying or exaggerating. We can still have each other's backs without having the same experiences. We can do this. Take my hand.

#wrenfea.exe #disability #disabilities #cripplepunk #neuropunk #madpunk #and yes that includes me. i am human and i have and will make mistakes #what matters is how you act after making the mistake #when in doubt ASK POLITELY #dont like run up to a stranger and bager them with questions #but find someone (like me!) who is open and willing to answering questions about their disability experience #as long as you ask nicely im pretty chill

[omgpeachsnapple]

Knock that shit off, you fucking creepy weirdos.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion ancunin #bg3 posting #bg3 astarion #neil newbon #please people #i am no longer asking #this is why we can't have nice things #the internet was a mistake

[linipik]

Witches ✨

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #keith kogane #takashi shirogane #hunk garrett #princess allura #pidge holt #fanart #there are some of my faves tbh #never posting these together was a mistake #i should do Adam bc orange is a very nice color #i kind of miss that au sometimes it was really fun to work on something so long

[harmonictechnicality]

Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.

He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.

Which is saying a lot.

Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.

Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.

The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.

Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding. 

Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.

And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.

The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about  how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.

That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance. 

He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time: 

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice. 

Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.

He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out.  It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.” 

“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”

“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”

Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.

“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him. 

No. “Kinda?”

Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…

Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.

He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.

“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”

Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.

“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”

Well shit.

Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”

“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.

But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.

“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”

Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again. 

They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.

“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”

#steddie #steddie fic #hi it's very late and this is very short #but I had to get it out before sleeps so here you go #so apologies if it's riddled with mistakes #I just missed writing lovebites #and this is the hc that keeps me sane knowing how many concussions Steve has had #like this is how he keeps recovering so quickly from all of them idkidk #okay please enjoy and have nice day xx

[canisalbus]

gothic lolita machete came to me in a dream

.

#HHWAH #but he unironically kind of makes it work though?? #I never realized that the leap from what he normally wears to gothic lolita would be this small #basically the same thing just a lot more lace and frills and embroidery #loving! the pomegranates! #it always makes me ecstatic when people find a way to include them or his other... symbols? motifs? objects of significance? #it's nice you kept the red gloves and red heels #the little crosses on the capelet and the stockings too hah #and the massive bow where the fascia would go #I support genderfuckery Machete by the way #his design and mannerisms have always been somewhat androgynous or at least that's what I've been trying to aim for #despite his sharp angular form he's supposed to have an aura of elegance and delicateness #at least on his better days when he's not in full rat man mode #given the choice he'd rather be called beautiful than handsome I'm pretty sure #folks have been mistaking him for a goth lesbian a whole lot lately so I can't be too far off #thank you this made me grin like an idiot when I opened the inbox #gift art #aggiepython #own characters #Machete

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

date night! Barnaby planned. well. "planned"

#he got too excited and forgot that dates include doing things #he was too caught up in the euphoria of holding howdys hand #an honest mistake 💅 #it turned out well tho in my mind #they had a nice candlelit (microwaved) dinner on the roof #where barnaby performed a stand-up act he wrote just for their date <3 howdy laughed so hard he knocked over their drinks #scribble salad #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fanart #howdy pillar #barnaby b beagle #LaughingStock #OKAY SO IN MY MIND BARNABY LIKE. STRAIGHTENED HIS FUR FOR THAT SLEEK N STYLED LOOK #TO CHARM THE BUG YAKNOW #but now. oogh. i kinda like it a lot #the classic barnaby look.... #im torn between the floof and the fluff.... the way i draw him and the way he Should Be... #anyway im in love with 60s/70s fashion #bring it BACK #i wanna wear campy suits and ascots and flared pants #before anyone says 'what stopping you' uhhh The Fact That No One Makes That Shit #agony.

[lonksadventures]

Now that every Startouched subrace is finished I can finally post all six sheets together!

Keep in mind that any lore or art I’ve made is meant as a building block for y’all’s ideas and characters and can be thrown out the window if you want! 💖

I just want to say thank you to everyone who has supported this homebrew project over the last year. The suggestions, ideas, questions and art that you guys have shared have helped me keep up the motivation to finish these guys and I hope you all like the final piece 💖

In the future I may make more dnd homebrew stuff but for now I’m gunna go lie down-

#dnd 5e #dnd 5e homebrew #lonksadventures #procreate #character design #dungeons and dragons #dnd homebrew race #dnd homebrew #dnd art #again tysm to everyone who left such nice comments and support #y’all are amazing 💖 #and if you saw a spelling mistake no you didn’t

[wnacn]

@son1c That dream au you had has been rotting in my head for the past couple days. No guarantee this is the last.

#snowpoint au #couldn't actually figure out the real name to this-unless i skipped over it by mistake #son1c #sonic the hedgehog #sonic au #dr starline #fanart #shadow the hedgehog #my art #wnacn #this was a nice break from animation ✨ #sth #sonic

[naffeclipse]

Warm Fangs

Naga!Sun x Reader. Sickness.

Prev

As you sleep, the fever worsens. Chills hit you with a violent shudder. The heat from the sickness flees under the quaking cold. You moan softly, curling up tighter. A soft hiss shushes you but you can’t find anything warm, anything warm at all.

The smooth brush of scales loosens from around you. The outside cold slips away from your feverish skin but stays within.

“It hasn’t broken yet,” Moon murmurs distantly. Cold fingertips brush your hair, damp from sweat, away from your forehead. A whine leaves you. You hate how pathetic it sounds inside your head.

“Oh, no. I was afraid it might linger with our poor lily pad,” Sun lowers his voice but he’s not as quiet as his brother, holding a stage whisper more than an actual whisper. You might have smiled if you weren’t bothered by the mottled moonlight giving way to a blue-bright early morning sky. 

It doesn’t feel warm. The sun is supposed to reheat the earth and take away the frost filling your chest with a shivering revolt.

A few quiet exchanges slip away in your near unconsciousness. Gingerly, you become weightless, lifted into the air like a feather before pressed into other arms. Heat, raw and covering, finally touches your body. You breathe out a low sigh, eyelids fluttering to peek up at the source of the heat. The form softly sways as you’re carried away.

“It’s going to be alright,” Sun hums. He looks down at you, his spiky frills flaring around his head in golden hues before the shadow of the cave eclipses the morning sun. “Don’t move, my water lily, you’re still sick.”

“Hmm, I’m fine,” you half moan. Your eyes fall close again. A tender soreness soaks into every muscle, especially at your neck and your shoulders. The deep, deep ache that refuses to go away. 

You shudder with another chill. Sun clicks his tongue in concern, the forked end whipping with a snapping worry. 

“You amaze me, truly. Even in the throes of illness, you’re still so stubborn.” He laughs softly, endearing but in a way that almost makes you push yourself out of his steady arms. He doesn’t get to think you’re cute. Not right now, when you feel how sticky your body is and how weak your limbs dangle as he carries you deeper into the cave you’ve made a shelter within.

“Sun,” you softly groan.

“Save your strength to fight the fever, not me.” A soft peck of his scaly mouth touches your temple. You nearly dissolve under his doting command. “You need to rest and do as I say so you can feel better. I don’t like to see you like this.”

You, in a reflective, rebellious instinct, almost try to kick out your feet and find solid ground, but Sun lowers you to the cold, cave floor. You’re seized by another icy torrent of coldness. Hugging your arms, you quietly groan. A soft swell of tears teem over your eyelids. That’s from the sickness, you tell yourself. You’re not crying because Sun and his sweet warmth let you go.

“I’ll be gone for only a moment, lily pad. Hold on for me, okay?” he singsongs.

You want to snatch the heat that had held back the torturous chills. Lifting your heavy eyes, you scour the dimness of the cave, catching sight of Sun’s long body softly slipping over the stone towards the shelves that were chipped into the wall of the cavern. The rich yellow hues of his scales are bright even in the shadows of rocks. The markings along his waist and around his throat are scarlet and vibrant with warning of his venom. You watch the outline of Sun’s defined shoulders move, taking and gathering, collecting a pale pink blossom you can’t currently name.

Pressed against the wall in a sleepy bundle of his scales, Moon watches you, eyes half lidded but attentive. You didn’t hear him enter. His hands open and close, as if to reach for you. He holds back. You frown at his distance but recall his cool scales through the midnight fever, and drowsily, in fitful half-sleep, wait for Sun.

He returns with a skim over the floor. His presence washes over you with hope.

“Don’t cry, my water lily. I’m here,” Sun coaxes with gentle mirth. A crooked finger swipes the leaking liquid from your eyes.

“Not crying,” you grumble, voice croaking like a frog. “Not a water lily.”

“Oh, I’m going to have to disagree and blame your lack of sense on the sickness,” he chirps as if you were simply the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

You pry your eyelids open for a glare. You certainly are not a beautiful and grandiose flower. Not right now in your freezing weakness.

Moon’s hissing laughter echoes. It fills you with another short burst of irate energy that lasts for only the moment of his humor. Sun tuts and shoots Moon a look before gently cradling you. The golden naga guides you upright with a tender hand supporting your back. He rests your head on his shoulder, his underside a shiny, pale cream color, and the gentle heat of his body burns away the chills holding you down. 

He lifts up a small flower, pale pink and pom-pom like on the end of a slender, green stalk.

“Eat this. It’ll make you feel better,” he softly insists.

You eye the flower as if it were a venus flytrap, and you were a particularly weak fly.

“What is it?” you murmur.

“I’ve heard humans call it a sensitive plant, sometimes called touch-me-not. If you had told me you weren’t feeling well early, you could have had this sooner.” The chasiting does not evade your awareness. Sun lowers the plant closer, as if offering a rose instead of medicine. “It will help with your fever and chills.”

“Ugh,” you turn your head ahead. The thought of eating when you have no appetite rears an ugly head within you. “I don’t need it.”

“I disagree strongly, lilypad,” Sun crones in disapproval. “Once you eat it, you’ll start to feel better.”

The soft lift to his tone invades you. You want to squirm, keep turning away from the offered medical plant, but Sun’s warmth surrounds you entirely. Gently, his finger guides your cheek until you face him once more.

“Please, won’t you, for me?” His cornflower blue eyes hold you with his plea. From the corners of his wide mouth, the very tips of fangs glint, but you’re not afraid of his bite. He saved you with his venom, once.

You grimace and force your lips to part. Murmuring praises and coaxes alike in a soft, musical tone, Sun presses the flower head to your mouth until you bite it off, and chew laboriously. It tastes green and dry. He watches you, hawk-like, ensuring you masticate the soft, brittle like petals before swallowing against the vicious dryness of your throat. You gasp after gulping.

His smile grows like a sunbeam at sunrise.

“See? It wasn’t so bad.” He tenderly rubs his mouth against your forehead. “Thank you."

The heat of his affection battles the cold underneath your skin, and when you shiver, he holds you tighter. You fall deeper under his fondness.

"This will pass and you’ll be in tip-top shape again,” he says softly, brimming with heated hope.

Oh, Sun. You want to curse him. You want to tell him that he can’t talk like that, melting your insides and making you nothing but an ooey-gooey mess, but you can’t. You are swept away by his sweet tones. 

No one but Sun unbalances you and catches you in the same motion. He’s disarming. He's the only thing that feels right.

You slump against him in another full-body shudder. Softly humming, Sun begins rearranging your limp form, draping your legs across his deliciously warm tail as the dark end wraps your lower legs. The tightness of his coils used to frighten you before you realized how summery and soft he is. He tucks you gently against his arm, lying down to become your personal pillow.

You are so useless. It’s a miracle you haven’t faded away by now—a miracle of two nagas, no less.

“It’s also called humble flower,” he continues with a soft note. “Perhaps you could take that aspect from it as well, my water lily.”

You moan, unable to offer a rebuttal that you are no flower, but his gentle embrace covers you entirely. His chest thrums lightly with a heartbeat you’ve listened to before. A soft hum fills his throat. He continues pressing his mouth against your cheek, the crook of your neck, and the top of your head as if smothering the clammy effect attempting to surface on your body.

“Soon, you’ll rise and we can stroll through the jungle and find more flowers, more flowers like you, and you’ll feel better. Doesn’t that sound nice?” he chatters endlessly.

You can only snuggle deeper against his chest, against his warm, smooth scales, better than any patch of sunlight, and trust in him.

#for when the chills hit and you have a nice warm naga to help you through it #i wrote this late last night again #your girl is going through it #if there are mistakes just close your eyes and don't see them ty #warm fangs #naga au #naga!sun #sun x reader #naff writing #i'll add this to ao3 later too #if i have more energy i might write a third part with a certain someone

[plusbeam]

this drawing is an excuse to point u to the most unhinged thing related to tajima ive read

#WHAT DO U MEAN HES USED TO IT #is this what being the young kid feels like? #should i call the cops? #oofuri #nice mistake! #tajima yuuichirou

[swift-kwikster]

A comic about Sam and Max being trans guys, taking place at Sam's old job as a stewardess before he transitioned. Being that it's Sam & Max, weird ridiculous hijinks ensure.

So... After two years of working on this on and off, it's finished! I had posted pages as I was making them on here before but those posts are no longer on my blog- I actually redid most of the pages with new jokes and panels, and fixed a lot. I'm really proud of how far this has come. :)

Please reblog if you can if you like it, so more can see it! It'd mean so much! Thank you. <3

#sam and max #sam & max #sam and max freelance police #sam & max freelance police #i cant believe its done #im posting this at 6 am and i know im gonna come back and be like 'DAMNIT I CANT BELIEVE THIS MISTAKE IS LEFT HERE' #but ah well!! #seriously please share if you can ;_; #when i felt like making the last page again i wanted to come back with the full comic mostly revamped #i hope those who liked it before are still here and like it still haha #thank you to everyone who has been so nice about my art and this story in particular - i learnt so much in how to make comics better becaus #of making this #there's some extra jokes that are hard to see in the background ill explain in a later post! #if theres trigger warnings i should add lemme know

[iintervallum]

empire siblings fanart! finally completed this wip, or to be more specific I got to a point where i'm happy with it lol.

[ID: First image is digital drawing of Beauregard Lionett and Caleb Widogast together standing by a bookshelf. Beau is pictured holding an open book, Caleb is pictured taking a book out of the shelf. The next two images are close ups of each characters face.]

#fanart #critical role fanart #critical role #my art #cr2 #beauregard lionett #caleb widogast #empire siblings #the mighty nein #artists on tumblr #digital art #i feel like if i worked on it more i wouldn't have been able to post it so here it is #i can already see the mistakes and stuff i probably should have added more detail on but alas #will probably cross post to other socials tomorrow #i'm pretty happy with how the hair for caleb turned out and how beau as a whole turned out #i've gotten better at rendering through just drawing and drawing which is a nice achivement in my book #ack i realized i forgot to add them discussing something but its w/e

[ningadudexx]

saving you from yourself 🫧

#sorry for drowning them in this post #they are fine #every drawing i post of them is a cool animated moment i replay in my mind over and over till the drawing is finished #i think wukong has a lot of guilt #in general adaptations of the monkey king seem to always hold this risidual guilt about them #hes always somewhat guilty about his actions #or maybe hes just guilty about being the way he is #maybe projecting a little .. but 'a lifetime of mistakes' is one hell of a title #his ass is eternally guilty !!! #but i think macaque and wukong balance eachother nicely #macaque can help wukong and wukong can help macaque! #in my head this was part of a demon fight scene gone wrong or somethign but it can be whatever i made it ambiguous for fun #i am insane #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lego #lmk #sun wukong #monkey king #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king #lmk macaque #rambles #autism boss wukong #wukongs tears go down because hes made of stone and so his tears defy water or whatever dont think about it too much #shadowpeach #qpr #silly mode

[pretentiouswreckingball]

✯my entry for the @croptopjames fest✯

jegulus | 1.3k | non-canon/magical au

summary:

It was revenge, they say, for a prank they played on the other houses. So if Lupin and Pettigrew got their trousers turn into shorts, and Black got his shirt turn into a crop top, then that means Potter—

“Did you hear what happened?”

“They say it was revenge for a prank on the other houses,”

“Seems like a weird way to take revenge,”

“Someone said it was a new statement for the dress code,”

“Of course those Gryffindors would come up with something like that,”

“Mila from my transfiguration class says someone charmed their clothes to transform into something else whenever they wear it. You know, trousers turn into shorts and—”

“Oh, so that’s why Lupin and Pettigrew were wearing shorts! But why was Black’s shirt cropped? Not that I mind the view but—”

“Maybe the spell worked in pairs? If Lupin and Pettigrew got shorts, and Black’s shirt was cropped, then maybe Potter got—”

But Regulus had heard enough.

He should’ve known something was off the moment he crossed Lupin and Pettigrew earlier that day wearing shorts of all things, but if he was completely honest with himself, his mind was somewhere else and didn’t even think twice about it. But now, after eavesdropping on a conversation of some sixth years, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive.

Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus makes a b-line for his seat at the end of the Slytherin table and starts filling his plate absentmindedly, trying to ignore the sight of his brother at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly to Lupin and Pettigrew, still in those ridiculous clothes. His mind inevitably going to the person who’s conveniently, not among them.

The thing is, Regulus isn’t capable of thinking of a piece of clothing that would look bad on James Potter.

He has seen the guy practising on the Quidditch pitch for Salazar’s sake. He has had a front row of what James’ body looks like when he leans on his broom, quaffle in hand, gaining some speed over his fellow teammates. He has seen how his forearms look when he grips the handle hard and how his thighs squeeze the rear of the broom when he’s doing a particularly hard move so he doesn’t fall.

So no, he doesn't think there’s a piece of clothing that would look bad on him, he could pull any look, especially a crop top, and that is the problem, isn’t it?

Regulus could feel his cheeks warming at the thought. Oh no this is bad, what he’s going to do if he sees him wearing that? He’s going to make a fool of himself and he can’t afford that. No, Regulus needs to get the fuck out of there if he wants to make it with his dignity intact.

Practically stuffing his face, Regulus tries to be as quick as possible, cursing in his mind at the idiot who hexed James Potter to be stuck with that particular piece of clothing, or lack thereof, more like.

“Let it not be said that we don’t do anything nice for you, Regulus,” a voice comes from behind and Regulus freezes and then groans.

Looking up from his plate, he eyes the pair who has taken the seats in front of him, both looking smug as fuck, “You guys are unbelievable,”

Evan hums in agreement, “Aren’t we just?”

“Wasn’t a compliment,”

Barty tuts disapprovingly, stealing a piece of food from Regulus' plate and popping it in his mouth, “Why Regulus, we thought you would be thrilled by this, can’t believe you’re this ungrateful.”

“Crop tops, really?” He huffs, stabbing whatever is left of his chicken, “And don’t get me started on the shorts.”

“Those were my idea,” Evan mentions.

Regulus doesn’t get it, “Why though?”

“We couldn’t be so obvious and only hex Potter, we had to cover our traces,” Barty says, turning his head slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. “Besides, the others look ridiculous, minus your brother of course, the bastard is fit as fuck.”

“Why though?” Regulus repeats, this time even more aggravated at the notion of Barty ogling his brother.

Evan gives him a pointed look, “You know why,”

Regulus drop his gaze, sniffing lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

Barty smirks at him, “You will,”

There’s a sudden ruckus at the entrance. The voices grow loud and you could hear some whistles here and there but what actually catches Regulus’ eyes when he looks up, is the man at the doors.

Something inside him is pleased to notice he was right about James looking good in any piece of clothing, especially something that would show his really fit body. James is looking a little dishevelled, but that only makes him look even prettier. Still enthralled by the sight of James Potter wearing something this sinful, Regulus notices a little too late a voice shouting really close to him, efficiently taking him out of his rivery.

“Looking good, Potter!”

“Barty!” Regulus hisses in embarrassment as James looks in his direction. And oh, the way he smiles at Regulus as soon as their eyes connect.

Regulus is incapable of doing much else under the intensity of that look, he wants to run like he had planned before. He wants to hide, not only from James but from the way he feels when he’s near. Pathetic as it is, the only thing Regulus is capable of doing is following James as he makes his way to the Slytherin table.

Regulus blinks hard at that. Wait, Slytherin table?

Before Regulus can process that, James is already standing right in front of him.

“Rosier, Crouch,” he greets them, still not taking his eyes off Regulus.

“Potter,” Barty nods in his direction. “Nice shirt, does it come in men’s?”

James grin turns sharp, “You don’t want me to answer that, Crouch,”

“Okay, time to go, have a great one!” Evan practically drags Barty aways as the latter cackles like a madman all the way out of the Great Hall.

When his laugh fades, James is still in front of Regulus and Regulus is purposefully looking at anything but his face, so his gaze inevitably fall at the only thing at his eye-level, James’ stomach.

There are beads of sweet running down over that beautiful golden skin and all Regulus wants, is to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Wondering how it would feel under his teeth.

James clears his throat to catch Regulus' attention. Unnecessary, since he hasn’t lost it the moment he entered the Great Hall.

“So, Regulus,” he starts.

“Yes?” He can see the trail of hair disappearing under the navy trousers. He’s having a hard time not to reach out and touch it.

He’s being so brave about this whole thing, someone should notified his mind-healer.

A beat of silence and then a hand, reaching for his chin and turning his face up, callous fingers against his soft skin. The sight of James’ playful smile makes something inside him melt.

“My eyes are up here, love.”

His cheeks get warmer out of the embarrassment of being caught. Not that he was subtle in the least but still, embarrassing.

James doesn’t seem to mind in the least.

“You’re blushing,” he notices.

Regulus' face is practically red at this point.

“Shut up,” he grumbles and James chuckles.

“No, no, I like it,” he says, voice soft. “Red looks good on you,” and then he proceed to fucking caressing his cheek.

It’s settled then, Regulus is living inside a romantic novel where making a fool out of yourself in front of someone you fancy is necessary and crop tops are a thing.

“What do you want?”

“Just wanting to say hello,” James says, eyes softening. “Hello,”

“Hi,” Regulus says, like an idiot.

“Fancy a Quidditch game with me?”

Regulus frowns. “Right now?”

“Why not?”

“You’re not wearing the proper gear,”

James smirks, “I think I will manage,”

This is a bad idea, a terrible one and Regulus knows it, everyone knows it and yet— “Lead the way then,”

James lets his hand drop from his face, and it takes all of Regulus not to chase the touch, but the feeling of loss is quickly replaced with excitement when he sees James holding his hand up for Regulus to take.

Regulus does, of course he does.

Hand in hand, they make it to the Quidditch pitch.

Together.

#well. let it not be said I never do anything nice for you guys #happy birthday James!!! #pathetic Reggie my fave Reggie #wait for the slutty shorts James later today!! #and just fyi Sirius looks amazing in that crop top too #also pardon any mistakes I wrote this last night half asleep #anyways enjoy!!! #james potter #James Potter birthday #croptopjames #jegulus #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #(?) idk