#steviebeans

the absolute light of my life @mywifeisaworm made this beautiful incredible spoopy cover art of Regulus approaching Grimmauld Place for my little ficcy and i am in loooooove

last lines i wrote in the latest WIP/first thing i've written since Hotel that i'm actually excited about:

Everything is red. Regulus shoulders past him without another word and heads home, counting footsteps and jagged breaths until he reaches his door (blue) and collapses on his couch (green). He closes his eyes and knuckles his warm fists against them, pressing and pressing and pressing, until the darkness is interspersed with splotches of light from the pressure of his hands and he’s counting heartbeats as red erupts behind his eyelids.

He shouts at Marlene that he’s getting them another round, waving her off when she offers him a twenty, and shoulders his way through the packed crowd. He runs warm just sitting around, so he’s feeling a little sweaty, veering into hot, and breathes in relief when he exits the swarm of bodies and lines up in the rather short queue. 

Leaning against the bar and pouring beer from a can into a plastic cup is the most beautiful man James has ever seen in his life. He feels his breath catch in his throat, his body catch on fire. A jawline sharp enough to cut, inky black hair with rumpled waves like he just got out of bed, straight nose with a little silver hoop through the right nostril, and a sleeve on his left arm of flowers (peonies? Roses?) and an artfully twisting serpent, curling from his slender wrist to his well-defined-but-lean bicep. There’s a smattering of silver rings on long fingers.

James swallows thickly - this is the first person to really catch his eye since the split, and what a person to catch his eye. Slim, not very tall, but really and truly beautiful. Dressed in black jeans and a loose black tank top, the armholes offering a glimpse of leanly muscled obliques, and James is done for. He’s barely able to control himself when he reaches the bar, continuing to look from the corners of his eyes. 

James feels rather than sees the strangers’ eyes sweep his body. James is aware of what he looks like - he knows he’s attractive, and he decides to test the waters, cocking his hip and stretching a little so his T-shirt rides up, up, up when the bartender slides him two plastic cups of beer.

It works.

“This doesn’t really seem like your scene.” 

The venue is loud, but this voice cuts through the noise. James grins lazily as he turns to fully face the beautiful man next to him. He notices how the stranger’s head tilts in interest. Gotcha. 

“How do you figure?” James leans closer, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“You don’t usually see Calvin Klein around here.” 

“You make a habit of looking at strangers’ underwear?” James full on smirks as he catches the beginnings of a blush on the stranger’s cheeks.

“Your T-shirt, actually. But thanks for letting me know what’s going on underneath.” He winks and James feels his heart beat a bit faster. The stranger’s eyes drift to the stage where techs have finished shuffling equipment.

“I’d love to continue this chat, but I’ve got to get going.” He takes a swig of his drink and pushes himself off the bar.  “You should stick around. Maybe I’ll see you after the show.”

“Why not during?” This elicits a laugh, low and breathy and barely there. 

“I’m sure you’ll see me. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll see you too.”

James doesn’t get a chance to ask what he means before he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. James finds himself searching as he makes his way back to Marlene, but with no luck. Even with his height advantage, James can’t find the pretty stranger anywhere. He grumbles under his breath in defeat, but still feels optimistic. He successfully flirted with someone. He’ll take the victory. 

Marlene accepts the beer, glassy eyed, strands of blonde hair sticking to her neck. She looks thrilled, there’s no other word for it, and James is so glad he came if not just to see his friend happy. He clinks the soft plastic cups together and takes a drink as the house lights go down. The crowd around him shouts, a steady roar of excitement. It draws out into cacophony as four silhouettes take to the stage, one slipping behind a drum kit still in shadow, the other three sliding instruments over their bodies. 

The drummer taps experimentally, and then launches into fast beat as the stage lights flicker on. 

The lead singer shouts once and then the spotlight is on him and James stops breathing. 

A drowning boy has no voice

shoutouts to @claudthecat & @mywifeisaworm for the tags.

last line I wrote of my WIP [that is, as of now, actually officially complete] Always yours,

James

There was a moment, just one, when Regulus knew this was it, this was his person.

It wasn't a grand gesture like the movies. There was no desperate kiss in the rain, no boombox outside a window. No public proclamations, no life-altering fight and make up. No rose petals sprinkled in a hallway, no candlelit whatever.

No, it was in the quiet that Regulus knew.

The way the lamp glowed orange, soft like firelight, haloing James as he sat on the shaggy rug that survived three moves, legs crossed, propped back on his hands, laughing as they passed a joint back and forth.

Somewhere, Creature was roaming the apartment, content to just be in a way he often wasn't when there were people over.

James handed the joint back, still giggling, and it struck Regulus then.

Just then. In a slight haze from the weed, more relaxed than he's ever felt in his life, Regulus thought,

He fits here.

And that was it. In the quiet, in the mundane, Regulus knew.

**now only viewable by those with an AO3 account. AI ruins errythang xx THE HOTEL AT THE TOP OF THE HILL (E)

Multichapter, 52K words - Graphic Depictions of Violence; Regulus Black / James Potter, Regulus Black & Tom Riddle

It feels like a false face. A veneer. A sheet covering up junk in the corner. There’s rot here. Regulus can feel it in his teeth, prickling the back of his neck, as he stares at this facade of cheer, of home-away-from-homeliness. If he looks enough, the warmth shifts, changes, alters, and he’s not staring at a cheery, grand inn.

He’s seeing broken windows and rotted panes, moss and mold inching across black stone, cracked chimneys stained with soot and ash. Dead and burnt trees. No soft winds and the soft patter of snowflakes, but the cawing of crows, the rattle of dying breaths. There are ghosts in every window, blackened energies wrapped around the ruins in twisted, slippery tendrils that curl and arch and turn slowly, slowly, to where Regulus stands on a sooty, blackened slab of cracked concrete before a rotted door.

There’s something wrong. This is a bad place. A very Bad Place.

*cover courtsey of @mywifeisaworm

THIS WORLD IS NOT MADE FOR YOU (E)

Multichapter, 27K words - Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death; Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black & James Potter, Regulus Black & Tom Riddle

In his brother's absence, Regulus immersed himself in the words and worlds of Stephen King, transfixed by the monsters the man could create.

It was a twist of cruel fate, then, that Regulus found himself in his very own, King-esque horror story: the first victim of Little Hangleton's ruthless serial killer, his body reanimated, blood-bound and forced to bend to Tom Riddle's will.

*cover courtesy of @ixekizumab

UNDER THE NIGHT SKY (T)

One shot - Major Character Death; Regulus Black & Sirius Black

"Do you remember when we were younger, after you were Sorted? We were lying on the roof, and we could see your star, but mine wasn’t visible. I cried about it, so you told me, “It doesn’t matter if we can see it or not, our stars are always together in the night sky.”

--

actual message to my beta reader. ... one shot coming soon.

s/o to @claudthecat

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don't be shy and share anyway!

i have not written ten fics but here's the first lines from what i've got, current WIPS included:

UNDER THE NIGHT SKY

There’s a letter hidden in a box, concealed and warded with magic learned from the same boy who wrote it.

THIS WORLD IS NOT MADE FOR YOU

"Promise me you'll stay out of the forest."

THE HOTEL AT THE TOP OF THE HILL

Regulus Black had known there was something distinctly wrong with him for a long, long time. 

ACROSS THE RIVER

Calling Maine “Vacationland” never made sense to Regulus Black.

UNTITLED WIP #1

It was supposed to be different this time, but we’ve been here before.

UNTITLED WIP #2

The Atrium should be mercifully, blessedly empty - it’s well past midnight, a strategic move on James’ part, staying late to avoid the after-work chatter.

UNTITLED WIP #3

"On your knees."