pages-and-1nk

[pages-and-1nk]

James Potter goes through about 3 laptops yearly.

Sirius is the reason at LEAST 1 of them broke.

Regulus is the reason the number isn’t higher.

[pages-and-1nk]

FUCKING THISSS

[pages-and-1nk]

[pages-and-1nk]

[pages-and-1nk]

The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.

Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.

So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.

Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.

[pages-and-1nk]

mutuals to go to a bookstore with

[pages-and-1nk]

"But Jegulus doesn't make any sense! They don't have anything in common-"

Neither of them lived in a world without Sirius Black in it.

[pages-and-1nk]

have we figured out hetero yaoi yet

[pages-and-1nk]

SHOOTING CIVILLIANS POINT BLANK. SHE WAS TRYING TO GET HOME AND THEY SHOT HER FOR NO REASON. GET THIS FOOTAGE OUT!

[pages-and-1nk]

*learns basic social skills well into my 20s that most people know by the time theyre like 11*

[pages-and-1nk]

James Potter, who grew up helping his mum make pottery, opens a small, vibrant, shop filled with ceramics. He’s always been good at moulding the clay, he loves the way it moves against his hands and he’s good at coming up with shapes and designs most people wouldn’t think of. The only problem is he cannot paint for the life of him- and all the designs he wants to sell require skills with a paintbrush.

Cue James going through the process of hiring one (very pretty) freelance painter to help him bring his ideas to life, and that person just HAPPENS to be his best friends reclusive younger brother Regulus.

Regulus who loves painting because it gives him control, who likes the predictability of recreating something that already exists, who paints like it’s his last time getting to hold a brush. He’s a phenomenal small artist, but the rigidness of his work holds him back, and as such he lacks the recognition to make money off commissions alone. So, when his brother recommends he apply for a job at his best friends new pottery shop- though hesitant at first- he decides to give painting ceramics (and the hot mad-man who makes them) a chance.

Then they kiss and get married obv.

[pages-and-1nk]

SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!

“always his little broth—” WRAP IT UP

[pages-and-1nk]

[pages-and-1nk]

You’re not depressed. You just need $250,000 in your bank account.

[pages-and-1nk]

Isn’t it sort of sad to think that Sirius’ life started the same day Regulus’ stopped? That forever they existed as two opposites, an end and a beginning, never to meet unless it was to swap places. Never to touch unless it was to say goodbye.

My poor Shayla’s.

[pages-and-1nk]

Some might even say it’s “potting” its next move.

count - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 335

James swayed in the middle of their shared flat’s tiny living room, a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky dangling from his fingertips. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, one lens smudged with fingerprints, and his hair—always messy—was somehow defying new laws of physics tonight.

“Count. Your. Days.” he repeated, slurring dramatically, as he pointed a finger like a wand at the windowsill.

Perched innocently in the corner, a small, plastic fern sat in a white ceramic pot. It gleamed softly under the streetlight filtering through the curtains. Unmoving. Silent. Judging.

James took a wobbly step forward. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? So leafy. So smug.” He narrowed his eyes, nodding as if Fern had responded. “But I know your game.”

Behind him, Regulus appeared in the doorway, barefoot and dressed in an oversized t-shirt that might’ve been James’s at some point, sleeves hanging past his elbows. He rubbed his face tiredly. “James,” he sighed, “are you… fighting the plant again?”

James turned, wild-eyed. “It’s personal now, Reg.” He waved the bottle as though explaining the gravest of matters. “It’s mocking me. Every day. Photosynthesizing.” He squinted at Fern. “Pretentious little bastard.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, padding closer. “James.” He reached out and gently plucked the plant from the windowsill, holding it up by the pot. “It’s fake.”

James blinked at it. Then at Regulus. Then back at Fern.

A beat of silence.

“Oh.” James frowned. “Well. Still. Doesn’t mean it’s innocent.” He jabbed a finger in Fern’s direction. “I’m watching you.”

Regulus snorted, setting the plant back down before wrapping an arm around James’s waist, steadying him. “Come on, you idiot,” he murmured fondly, pressing a kiss to James’s temple. “Time for bed.”

James leaned into him, already half-asleep, mumbling, “Don’t… trust it, Reg… plastic or not… it’s planning something…”

Regulus chuckled under his breath, steering James toward their room. “Right. I’ll keep an eye on it. Go to sleep, love.”

Behind them, Fern gleamed innocently in the moonlight.

Plotting. Probably.

[pages-and-1nk]

THISSSSSS

Silver spoon by Erin Lecount is actually so Jegulus coded, I go insane every time. Like ffbnnvvcvbhh somebody sedate me.