#Reggie Curious

[tr0ubl3d-tr4n53nd3r]

Ahh this is the first and last photos the entire delossantos-curious family is together

The next one I take will be when Jean luc has died and orange has moved out. Then after that citrus will probably have died and maybe lazlo. Idk about Reggie but prolly. (This isn't including wedding photos. They aren't necessarily family photos)

[mouse-fantoms]

Hello? 👁️ what is this 👁️

What’d you got open there bud on your laptop 👁️

They fr are most likely just hanging out together and it means absolutely nothing but there’s that part of me that’s like “WHAT IF THOUGH 🤡”

[arcadekitten]

hi its me again with a bunch more questions in the back of my head - is lambchomp aware stella is a star witch and if he is, how did he find out (assuming the rest of the neighborhood dont know stella is one considering the canon comic) - do pathospires have fangs and/or can they have fangs - speaking of pathospires, if their species was more well known would they be considered a threat - what are the main 5's go-to donut flavor thats all, have a great day :) !

I don't think any of them really know what Stella is. To them she's like an outer space alien that's also a witch with magical star powers. The embodiment of a shooting star. And that's essentially what she is anyways so! ===

To be honest most of my characters have fangs automatically because I find them fun and cute to draw HAHA ===

I'm sure they would be, like the way vampires would be! ===

Oh wow....hmm.....assuming we're going with like, standard donuts and not like specialty kinds... Mary likes double chocolate donuts. Chocolate dough, chocolate frosting. Reggie is probably fine with a basic strawberry donut, or a jelly-filled donut! Vasilis likes any with lots of sprinkles on them. Crowven would like a plain glazed, Twyla would like vanilla frosted or boston cream--maybe even a vanilla frosted boston cream if they have those?

[sensenotsense]

where did all of the smoking discourse come from. like what prompted it?? just smoke outside and away from people

[cornfields-td-nonsense]

fearing for Reggie's safety (RULE NUMBER #21 FOR SURVIVING A VAMPIRE: DON'T DATE THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Ehhhh it's okay, Reggie operates on cartoon physics. She's unkillable. And Carmen's very good at self-control, most of the time at least.

[kurt-cobain-is-jesus-in-disguise]

Lmao thanks ig

[colouredbyd]

Soleil

Regulus Black x fem!reader

summary:  When Regulus overhears a whispered confession never meant for him—soft words tucked between laughter and loyalty, unraveling the quiet truth beneath your friendship. In the hush that follows, the line between almost and everything begins to blur.

warnings: the most fluffiest fluff to ever fluff in any au, friends in love but in denial, childhood friends to lovers, lowkey grumpy x sunshine trope, reg being insecure, love confessions, self doubt, swearing. i love this sm.

word count: 7.3k ( im sorry ☹️)

authors note: reggie is quite literally the loml so here u go guys 🌷 

masterlist

“I just don’t get it. You two are close, sure, but how can someone like you stand someone so… frostbitten?”

Regulus Black had never been fond of listening in.

Not because he held some high regard for personal boundaries—though he might feign such principles if questioned—but because idle whispers had always struck him as painfully dull. His ears had never itched for gossip, nor had curiosity ever coaxed him into shadowed corners. If people had something to say, they’d say it. And if they didn’t, he preferred the quiet.

In truth, silence had always been kinder to him than most people ever were.

It was a habit he’d mastered long before Hogwarts—back when the walls of Grimmauld Place echoed with slurred legacies and scornful lectures. In those days, slipping away unnoticed had been a form of survival. At school, it was simply routine.

But tonight… something felt different.

Maybe it was the fact that his name had slipped past someone else’s lips.

Maybe it was the company—James Potter, Marlene McKinnon, and you—tucked just around the corridor outside the Gryffindor common room.

Or maybe it was something subtler, something aching and ancient, when Marlene’s voice laced his name with ice.

He hadn’t meant to linger. He’d only returned to fetch the worn book he’d abandoned on the windowsill that morning. He hadn’t expected anyone to be there—let alone you, laughter softening your voice like candlelight.

He could’ve kept walking. He should have.

But then—

“I think there’s kindness in him,” James said, uncertain. His voice faltered like a lantern in fog.

“I mean… we’ve barely spoken, really.” He rubbed the back of his neck—nervous, boyish. Always more heart than caution.

“Maybe he’s just not great with people?”

You hummed softly, nodding in agreement, though your gaze had grown distant, pulled by the threads of memory. You understood him far better than the others did—better, perhaps, than anyone else dared to try. That’s why Marlene and Dorcas had turned to you, curious about the boy who walked the castle halls like a ghost no one could quite touch.

You had known Regulus Black long before you shared the same classes at Hogwarts. Growing up among pureblood circles had made your paths cross more than once, though back then, he barely acknowledged your presence. It wasn’t until your fifth year that a quiet camaraderie started to bloom—quiet, not because it was secret, but because it had no need for loud declarations. A glance. A shared silence. A wordless understanding. All of it wove together like a private constellation only you two could see.

You smiled faintly at the memory, a soft huff of laughter escaping you. It was absurd, really, to think you’d somehow become the unofficial Regulus Black Expert of Gryffindor Tower. The idea would have made your younger self laugh out loud.

Because back then—when you’d first been introduced to him by a smug Sirius Black with a wicked grin and a mischievous, “Reggie, this one won’t bite unless you ask”—you never would have imagined this strange little bond forming.

“Regulus has always been… closed off,” you murmured at last, agreeing with Marlene’s earlier observation, though your tone drifted somewhere far away. Your words were less a reply and more a wandering thought, drifting like parchment on the wind.

It hadn’t been easy, not at first. Regulus had no interest in friendship—especially not the kind that came packaged with Sirius’s teasing introductions. He had been all cold stares and clipped replies, a boy carved from silence and family pressure. And you? You had simply been the unfortunate soul swept into the current of Black family drama, doomed to be one more casualty in Go-to-hell, Sirius’s grand matchmaking schemes.

Time after time, you found yourself at 12 Grimmauld Place under the excuse of “study sessions” or “family dinners” orchestrated by Sirius’s sheer willpower. And time after time, Regulus kept his distance, each glance sharpened like a dagger, each word a carefully measured offering. He didn’t need friends. He didn’t want them. And you? You were just a name on a list he hadn’t asked for.

And truthfully, you never quite knew when it shifted—or why. When, between wary glances and measured silences, something real began to stir between you. You chewed gently at your bottom lip as the thought unfurled, trying to follow the winding trail back to the precise moment when your distant acquaintance melted into something gentler, more sincere. Something you could, without hesitation, call a friendship now.

“Do you think he ever lets anyone in?” Marlene asked, a touch of disbelief in her voice—not meant to wound, only to confess her own discomfort. She never knew how to fill the silences Regulus left behind, not the way Dorcas or you somehow managed to. “It just doesn’t add up to me.”

Unseen just around the corner, Regulus leaned his weight against the stone wall, the cold of it pressing into his back as he stood completely still. This was the part where he should have left. Disengaged. Forgotten he’d heard anything at all. He should have reminded himself that he didn’t care what people thought—because he didn’t. Or at least, he hadn’t.

But something invisible tethered him to that moment. Curiosity, perhaps. Or the soft echo of his own name on your lips.

“I get that you’re close,” Marlene went on, “but how does someone like you end up friends with someone so…”

He didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence. And yet, he couldn’t stop listening.

Her voice faltered for a second, and Regulus felt it like a fist around his ribs. He could guess what came next.

“So… cold?”

The word landed like frost beneath his skin.

Cold?

His mind latched onto it, dissecting it like a puzzle he didn’t ask to solve. Is that truly how they saw him? Was that what he looked like through other people’s eyes? He supposed he wasn’t the easiest person to read. He wasn’t known for kindness or warmth—but cold? The word clung to the back of his throat, sharp and stinging.

He should’ve walked away. Brushed it off like he had with everything else. He’d built his world out of walls for a reason. He didn’t let himself care. He never had.

So why, then, did his chest feel like it had been split open?

He was turning to leave, to forget the book he came for and the crack this moment left behind—

Until he heard your voice.

“Cold?” you echoed, and Regulus froze mid-step. There was something in your voice—an edge he couldn’t quite name. Anger? Disbelief? Something that made his heart stutter painfully in his chest.

He found himself leaning into the shadows again, listening, caught in your words like a boy drowning in a storm.

“Regulus Black is anything but cold,” you said, your voice like silk woven through fire. A laugh escaped you next, quiet and bitter. “He’s the warmest person I’ve ever known.”

His breath caught. He almost laughed—almost—but stopped himself. He was supposed to be hidden, after all.

Still, that one sentence echoed louder than the rest.

“Truly?” Marlene blinked at you, surprise tugging at her brows like she hadn’t expected the warmth in your voice.

You nodded with the kind of certainty that didn’t waver.

“Absolutely,” you said, your voice soft but steady, like morning light through a window. “There’s no one quite like him. He’s… kind. Deeply so. He just doesn’t wear it on his sleeve like most do. You have to look closer to see it.”

Around the corner, hidden behind the curve of ancient stone, Regulus stood still as the marble beneath his feet. Your voice was like a tether, pulling him back every time he considered walking away.

“Regulus doesn’t move like everyone else,” you continued gently, a smile curling at the corners of your lips. “He’s quiet, sure. Always has been. But cold?” You let out the softest laugh, the kind that sounded like wind through lavender fields. “No… not cold. Never that. He’s warm in ways most people don’t know how to be.”

Warm? Regulus nearly scoffed, but the heat that rushed to his face betrayed him. If only you knew the darkness he buried his heart beneath. If only you saw the shadows he called home. And still—still—your voice made him believe, just for a second, that maybe you did see. And maybe… you didn’t mind.

“He wouldn’t believe me if I told him,” you said with a small laugh, like you could hear his thoughts. “But it’s true. He cares in ways that matter—in quiet gestures and steady presence, in showing up without ever announcing that he’s there.”

“Ohhh…” Dorcas and Marlene echoed, their tones laced with newfound understanding.

You giggled then, all bright and unbothered, and it struck Regulus like starlight—sudden and impossible to ignore.

“He grows on you,” you promised, voice turning soft again. “Little by little. And when he does… you realize just how lucky you are to be close to someone like him.”

Regulus ducked his head, hiding the sudden flush crawling up his neck, thankful there were no mirrors nearby to betray him. He’d never been lucky a day in his life—but if you thought being near him was some kind of gift, then maybe, just maybe…

“Merlin’s beard, (Y/N), that was kind of adorable,” Dorcas teased. “How long have you known him, then? You two sound like old souls.”

“A while,” you said, tilting your head as you thought it over. “Slughorn once invited us to the same dinner—years ago. Said we were both too serious for our own good. I don’t think either of us said more than three words that night,” you laughed softly. “But… over time, I think we just started understanding each other. Quietly. Comfortably. And now… he’s someone I look up to. A lot.”

A good person? Regulus nearly rolled his eyes. You always saw the best in him—even the parts he tried hardest to bury.

“He’s always helping me,” you added, a smile blooming on your lips. “Especially when I’m struggling with Dueling, or studying late into the night. He says he does it because I ask too many questions—but I know he stays because he wants me to do well.”

Well. He couldn’t exactly argue with that one.

“And he’s a bit of a secret gentleman,” you said, your voice dipping low, like a delicate confession passed between old stone walls. A soft smile ghosted your lips. “Even when we weren’t close, he’d carry my books without asking, hold open the doors with barely a glance, pull out my chair in the Great Hall like it was second nature…”

Your words trailed off as the memories rose like stardust behind your eyes—small, quiet gestures that had once seemed incidental, but now shimmered with meaning.

Just around the corner, half-shrouded by flickering torchlight, Regulus leaned back against the cold stone, eyes half-lidded, breath caught. He’d forgotten about some of those moments—at least on the surface—but hearing them from your lips made them pulse to life again. You noticed. Merlin, you noticed.

He’d never thought of himself as kind. His mother had taught him manners, not softness. His brother had taught him rebellion, not care. But you… You brought something different out of him. With you, gentleness had become instinct.

And now, hearing you speak of it with such warmth, he found himself wondering if you saw something in him he hadn’t dared to believe existed.

Your smile deepened. “There was one time, years ago…” You laughed under your breath, as if it were still a secret.

“We’d snuck into the kitchens when the elves weren’t looking—he nabbed a chocolate biscuit from the tin. Broke it in half.” You looked toward Marlene and Dorcas, your voice softening like candlelight.

“And he gave me the bigger piece.”

The girls exchanged a glance, both catching the distant look in your eyes—the way your gaze flickered not to the past, but to a version of it you carried close, cherished. You hadn’t even been friends yet. Just two children on opposite sides of a too-large world, momentarily brought together in the dim glow of the kitchen hearth.

You’d spent the rest of that evening curled beside Tilly Toke’s Magical Mishaps, Regulus sat across the table, not saying much. But the half-cookie had meant something, hadn’t it?

The memory wrapped around you like a charm.

And somewhere behind the wall, Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his thumb into his palm—grounding himself. Because yes. He remembered it exactly that way.

“Aww!” Marlene let out a dramatic gasp, pressing her hands to her heart as if the memory had physically struck her. “He must’ve had a tiny little crush on you, darling,” she teased, her voice lilting like a melody as she batted her lashes.

You laughed under your breath, but Regulus, hidden just around the stone corner of the corridor, felt like his heart had been flung into a freezing lake.

A crush?

Was that how he came across?

His pulse thundered in his ears as panic curled tight in his chest. Surely not. All the little things he’d done—carrying your books when you complained about the weight, offering you his scarf on cold mornings, brewing tea when you stayed up too late studying—all of that was just… friendship. Wasn’t it? Politeness. Chivalry, even. Raised by Walburga or not, he did have some decency.

He tried to believe that.

But the longer he stood there, the more tangled his thoughts became.

None of it was just about kindness. Not really.

You were the only one who made the castle feel less like a cage and more like a dream. The way you laughed when he muttered sarcastic remarks under his breath. The way you hummed when concentrating. The warmth you gave off without even trying.

You were sunlight—unapologetic and golden. And him? He was the boy who lived in the shadows of dark family tapestries and colder expectations.

He didn’t mean to care for you the way he did.

But he thought of you constantly. In between potions ingredients, in the flutter of owl wings across the morning sky, in every flower you ever paused to admire. Even the Black family crest seemed to dim in your presence. His own reflection was easier to face when he imagined you smiling at him.

Gods, he was utterly doomed.

fuck. 

Regulus pressed the heel of his hand to his temple, trying to steady himself—anchor his mind back to the cold stone floor beneath his shoes and not the warmth blooming beneath his ribs. None of that meant anything, did it? All those quiet favors, the lingering glances, the moments where his hand brushed yours without needing to—none of it had to suggest something deeper.

He could care for you platonically. Couldn’t he?

He nearly scoffed at himself.

How utterly cliché. The proud, brooding boy spiraling the second he felt something tender for the girl who glowed like she’d been carved from starlight. Maybe he was just being ridiculous. Maybe you really were just friends. Friends could look after each other. Friends could think the other was breathtaking and luminous and—

Merlin help him.

Because if you were to lean in one day, maybe on the edge of a courtyard or under a soft-spoken sky, and confess you wanted something more—he wouldn’t push you away, would he?

His chest tightened. No. He wouldn’t. And that answer, so simple, nearly unravelled him. His thoughts tangled like spellwork gone wrong, and for a moment he swore the castle spun slightly beneath his feet.

“I don’t know about that…” your voice broke through the air, softer than parchment under fingertips.

And Regulus felt it—something unfamiliar and ferocious rising in his chest. Like swallowing honey and fire at the same time. It bubbled with sweetness, with something terrifyingly hopeful. His fingertips tingled, his lips twitched with the start of a smile he didn’t know he could make. He wasn’t sure whether to dread it or chase it.

“Well, you should ask him out!” Marlene said cheerfully, breaking the moment like glass on stone.

“Wh-what?” you stammered, blinking rapidly.

“I’m serious!” she grinned, nudging Dorcas playfully. “He’d say yes. You’re definitely his favorite, and have you seen the way he stares at you?”

I do? Regulus froze where he stood, blood rushing in his ears.

“He does?” your voice slipped out, barely more than a breath, tinged with disbelief and the faintest hope.

Regulus could feel it now—magic surging beneath his skin like it wanted to rise just for you.

Were you surprised? Mortified? Regulus couldn’t tell. From his shadowed post behind the half-open door, he was practically vibrating with the urge to peek out, to catch even a flicker of your expression.

If he could just see your face, he’d know exactly how you were processing all of this—whether you were laughing him off or secretly hoping it might be true.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen him looking at you loads of times,” James said casually, like he was stating the weather.

“Same,” chimed in Marlene, lounging across the common room couch. “Honestly, I thought you two were already together when I first transferred.”

He did?

“You did?” your voice fluttered out, laced with disbelief—and something else Regulus couldn’t name, something soft and glowing.

“Yeah,” James shrugged like it was obvious. “He always sits close to you. And when he speaks—which isn’t often—it’s usually just to you. I thought it was some kind of intense, brooding flirting.”

No, you imbecile, I just don’t want anyone overhearing—

Regulus dragged a palm down his face, lips twitching with frustration. This was disastrous. He rolled his eyes and tugged slightly at the skin under them, as if it might yank him back into reality. But no—there it was, pulsing like an inconvenient truth just behind his ribs.

Of course he fancied you. Merlin, how hadn’t he seen it?

Or maybe… maybe it had always been there. Dormant. Waiting. Quietly thriving in shared glances, in the way you beamed when he walked into the room, in how his mornings never felt quite right until he heard your laugh.

That laugh drifted out now, pulling him violently from his spiraling thoughts. Light and bright, it danced in the air like the flicker of fairy lights during winter.

“No, no—you’ve got it all wrong,” you said, laughing again as you tried to dismiss the idea, but there was something dangerous in your tone. Something syrupy sweet and hesitant, like you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted it to be wrong. “We’ve known each other forever. If something was going to happen, it probably would’ve by now.”

The pause that followed was heavy. Not uncomfortable—but thick. Charged. Like the castle itself was holding its breath.

Regulus swallowed hard. His heartbeat roared in his ears like crashing waves, deafening and all-consuming. He knew he should walk away, that eavesdropping this long was borderline shameful.

But he couldn’t. 

“You say that like you want something to happen,” Marlene teased, her voice laced with playful suspicion. “Are you the one with the crush?”

Regulus felt the breath knock out of him. Every passing second that she didn’t answer made his head spin, made the walls feel closer. If he didn’t move soon, he was going to collapse right here in this hidden corridor, fully exposed in the most humiliating way possible.

“I…” your voice broke through the silence, soft and unsteady.

Regulus clenched his jaw, fighting every instinct not to lean just a little farther around the corner. If he could just see you—if he could catch the twitch of your fingers or the tilt of your lips—he might finally have his answer.

If you were fidgeting, surely it meant you did like him.

If you stood still, frozen in disbelief, then the idea of the two of you must’ve been laughable to you. An impossibility.

“I haven’t thought about it,” you murmured at last, so quietly he barely caught it.

There was a shuffle of feet. Marlene let out a thoughtful hmm, unreadable in tone, and James called out his goodbyes as he bounded off toward the courtyard to meet Sirius and Peter.

Marlene followed not long after, muttering something about borrowing Lily’s notes or charming Professor Slughorn into letting her redo a potion.

You gave a breathy laugh and waved them off with a smile in your voice. And then, once their footsteps faded into silence, you exhaled.

It trembled at the edges.

“Merlin,” you whispered to yourself, pressing a hand to your chest as you dropped onto the worn couch in front of the common room fire. “That was way too close.”

Regulus, hidden in the shadows just beyond the entrance, let his back fall against the cold stone wall.

He’d never known it was possible to be both relieved and utterly destroyed in the same moment.

Your heart was still rattling in your chest, refusing to slow after the teasing from James and Marlene. You needed to get away—away from their knowing eyes, their smug grins, their pointed little looks that made you feel like your thoughts were written across your forehead. You were certain they knew. Certain they’d seen through every flimsy deflection and quiet denial you’d offered.

Just as you were about to flop onto the couch and sink into a well-earned nap by the fire, something caught your eye: a thick hardcover left resting on the arm of the chair beside you. A neat, velvet-green ribbon was caught between the pages, and all the sections before it were practically bursting with parchment scraps and scribbled notes.

You recognized it instantly. If you didn’t already know Regulus had been buried in that book all week, the sheer intensity of the annotations would’ve given it away. No one else read like that. Not in your year, at least.

A smile tugged at your lips as you picked it up. He must’ve left it behind in a hurry. Knowing him, he’d want it back the moment he realized it was gone. You figured he had the afternoon free, so it wouldn’t take long to find him. Besides, your nap could wait.

Cracking it open to the first page marked by a slim pink tab, you let your eyes flit across the topmost note stuck inside—only to immediately become absorbed, not in the book itself, but in the way his handwriting crawled into the margins like vines. You didn’t even notice him until you were practically on top of him.

“Oh—sorry!” you gasped, stepping back from the broad figure you’d nearly barreled into.

When your gaze lifted and locked onto familiar grey eyes, your surprise dissolved into a gentle smile.

“Reg! I was just coming to find you,” you added, brightening with a soft laugh. You held up the book like a prize. “This is yours, right?”

He nodded, slowly, almost as if startled into silence. His hand brushed against yours as he took the book, and for a second he couldn’t seem to find his voice.

“…Thanks, soleil,” he managed finally, quieter than he intended.

“No problem,” you replied easily. “It was in my nap spot,” you added with a sheepish little shrug.

That made Regulus laugh, low and amused. The sound startled even him, but the grin it brought to his face was unstoppable. You tilted your head slightly at the sudden warmth in his expression, your fingers twisting together, the flutter in your chest growing louder by the second.

“Hey, I was wondering…” you began, brows knitting slightly as your courage wrestled with uncertainty.

Regulus, ever so composed, tucked the book under his arm and gave you his full attention.

“Yes, amour?” he asked, voice soft and clear, like he was ready to listen to anything—anything at all—from you.

He watched your fingers begin to fidget again—an old habit of yours—and his heart thudded heavily in his chest. That small, familiar gesture pulled at something deep inside him, something tender and terrifying all at once. You were fidgeting. You were nervous.

“Uh, ah—it’s silly—” you began, your voice hitching as you almost backed out of it. But Regulus shook his head quickly, the usual cool in his features melting into a rare softness. He didn’t want you to stop. Not now. Not when it felt like your words might change something between you.

“I’m sure it’s not,” he said, more firmly than he expected. You glanced up at him in surprise, caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice. “What is it?” he asked again, quieter this time. Earnest.

You blushed.

Actually blushed.

And Regulus felt something in him collapse at the sight. How had he not realized sooner? The way he cared about you—it was more than careful friendship. More than routine familiarity. It was this. That look. That moment. This feeling swelling in his chest like an uncontrollable storm.

“Do you remember when we were little, and my mum always made us have those awkward little tea visits?” you asked, laughing under your breath. The sound was light but edged with nerves. “She’d dress you up like a little heir to the empire.”

Regulus chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the memory. “How could I forget, soleil? You were the only thing making them bearable.”

You opened your mouth as if to explain yourself further, then stopped short. Your gaze dropped to your hands again, which were still twisting in your lap, and your smile grew quiet.

“I don’t know, I guess I…” you stumbled, your words catching on emotion you hadn’t quite figured out yet. Merlin, you hated how your voice trembled. How silly it made you feel. “Do you remember when we became friends?”

You rushed the question out, afraid of losing the courage altogether.

Regulus nodded, his expression unreadable—but not cold. There was something still behind his eyes. Watching you closely. Listening like he always did, but with his heart too, now.

“I do,” he said gently. “You spilled ink on my essay, and I didn’t hex you for it.”

You laughed at that, your eyes glinting. “That was the moment, huh?”

“I think it always had been,” he replied, voice almost too quiet to catch.

“I do,” he replied without hesitation.

“Like, actual friends,” you clarified, raising a brow, not convinced he’d thought that through. “Not just two kids being dropped off at some posh tea party and expected to get along. I mean—real friends.”

Regulus nodded again, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“I do,” he repeated, softer this time, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You don’t?”

You pressed your lips together thoughtfully, chewing at the corner of one as you shook your head slowly. Your brow furrowed as you tried to remember, and Regulus gave a low chuckle at the sight, eyes glinting with fondness.

“Well?” you asked, voice tinged with impatience. “What changed?”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” he said with mock hurt, tilting his head and placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “That wounds me amour, you know.”

“I didn’t think you had feelings, Black,” you shot back playfully, a teasing lilt to your voice. “But come on, tell me.”

You looked at him expectantly, eyes wide and gleaming with curiosity. Regulus found himself caught in your gaze, helpless to look away.

You always did that—held his attention like no one else ever had. But this time, there was something different. Something unspoken between the words, resting in the stillness of the air between you.

He swallowed thickly. If you asked anything of him like this, he would give it without pause. It hit him like a charm straight to the chest. That soft glint in your eyes—he wondered if he’d always missed it, or if it had only just begun to appear.

“It was right before we came to Hogwarts,” he said finally, voice quieter now, like he was unearthing something sacred. “The weekend before the train. Do you remember?”

You nodded, the memory vague but there. You’d spent a late summer afternoon at Grimmauld Place while your parents caught up with his.

You vaguely recalled teasing him for organizing his trunk with meticulous precision and muttering something about the Weird Sisters under his breath.

“I remember you sorting your books by spine colour like some cursed Ravenclaw,” you teased, grinning.

Regulus huffed a laugh. “You were sitting on the floor in my room,” he continued, tone suddenly gentler. “You brought every sweet from Honeydukes you could carry and made me try all the ones I said I hated.”

Your grin softened into a warm smile.

“And then you told me,” he said, eyes flicking to yours, “that if Hogwarts was awful, and I hated every second of it, at least I’d have someone to sit with on the train ride back.”

The memory bloomed in your chest like an old Polaroid, blurry around the edges but warm all the same.

“You meant it,” he added. “And I think… that’s when I knew.”

“When we became friends?” you asked.

He looked at you for a long moment, then gave a slight nod, lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—not out of sadness, but because there was more to it than he could say.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s when everything changed.”

“Professor let us move in a night early,” Regulus recalled, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Probably so the castle staff could have one last evening of peace before the school year started.”

You laughed under your breath at the realization, nodding. “At the time it felt like freedom. Our own space for the first time.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, eyes soft with the memory. “Feels strange thinking back now. It was just you and me in this massive castle… for a while at least.”

“I almost forgot that,” you admitted, the corners of your mouth curling up as you thought of it. The quiet corridors. The chill of stone floors under your socks. The thrill of choosing your own bedtime, your own space. “It feels like it’s always been this way.”

“But you don’t remember the first night?” he asked, tilting his head.

You squinted, trying to trace the memory like it was hidden in fog. There were flashes—wandering the halls, fiddling with enchanted portraits, a failed attempt at brewing hot cocoa with a half-working kettle you’d found in one of the old kitchens…

“You woke me up,” Regulus said, chuckling softly.

Your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh—Merlin. Right. I couldn’t sleep and—”

“You were bored,” he supplied, shaking his head fondly. “You dragged me out of bed and made me sit with you in the common room. And then you made me watch that ridiculous enchanted Muggle film projection your dad enchanted for you.”

You snorted. “The Princess Bride is a classic, I don’t care what you say Reggie.”

“It’s too long,” he shot back without missing a beat. “And you didn’t even stay awake. I sat there like an idiot while you snored on my shoulder.”

You covered your face with your hands, laughing with secondhand embarrassment. “Okay, okay—”

“You talked through half of it,” he went on, grinning. “You said you were scared.”

The laughter softened on your lips, surprise flickering in your gaze.

“I did?” you asked, quieter now.

Regulus nodded, watching you intently.

“You said you didn’t know what Hogwarts would be like,” he continued, voice gentler. “You were afraid you’d mess everything up. But then you said as long as I was around, maybe it’d be alright.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The memory settled over you like a forgotten charm being reawakened.

“And it was,” he added softly. “Alright, I mean.”

Your eyes met his again, and there was something about the way he looked at you then—like you were the only thing anchoring him to this moment. Like he’d never forgotten that night for a reason.

“You said you were scared of failing,” Regulus’ voice dipped low again, quieter than before—almost reverent. “That… you were afraid of never becoming powerful enough to protect the people you cared about.”

Despite the memory being so old, embarrassment flickered through you now like a lit match to dry parchment. You couldn’t believe this was the moment he’d held onto all this time. Of all things, this one?

“I almost wish I hadn’t asked,” you muttered, cheeks burning, “I can’t believe I said that to you.”

But Regulus didn’t tease. In fact, his smile turned almost fond.

“Then you told me you thought I was strong,” he continued, and for the first time, there was the faintest trace of pink brushing the tops of his cheeks. “You asked if I’d help you… get strong too. Like me.”

Your eyes widened slightly. The image of little you, curled in a blanket in the Slytherin common room, whispering fears into the dim glow of floating candles, was something hazy and far away.

But Regulus? He remembered it like it had just happened.

“And then,” he added with a snort, “you passed out mid-sentence, head on my shoulder. I was stuck watching the rest of that bloody Muggle film just so you wouldn’t wake up and yell at me for skipping to the end.”

“You watched the rest of the movie?” you asked, your voice soft with wonder.

He laughed. “Every last minute.”

You blinked, stunned. “I can’t believe I don’t remember any of that.”

“You were exhausted,” Regulus shrugged like it didn’t matter, even though it clearly had. “And it was a long time ago. I never expected you to remember it… I just never forgot.”

You chewed on your lip, falling quiet as warmth coiled in your chest. That kind of memory… someone keeping it for you when you hadn’t even known to treasure it—it meant more than you could say.

But then he stepped forward.

Just a single pace, barely anything. And yet your whole body felt it—the sudden closeness, the silence that wrapped around you both like a breath held too long.

“And by the way…” he murmured, pulling your gaze up to his with ease. “I do kind of stare at you, a lot.”

Your face went red so fast you thought your ears might start steaming.

“You—you heard that?” you squeaked, mortified.

“And then some,” Regulus replied smoothly, and despite the flush still tinting his cheekbones, he was smiling. Really smiling

For once, he didn’t feel like hiding.

“Did you mean all of that, soleil?” he asked.

And this time, the air between you was electric.

Your mouth opened once. Closed. Opened again.

The conversation from earlier came crashing down on you all at once, each word echoing in your head with horrifying clarity. He’d heard it. All of it. Your rambling. Your clumsy affection disguised as hypothetical questions. And—Merlin—had he heard that last part?

“I mean, y—yeah. Yeah,” you stammered, nodding just a little too fast. “Of course I did.”

But your voice had gone breathless, barely even sound.

Regulus tilted his head slightly, gaze fixed so firmly on you you thought he might see through you completely.

“Even that last part?” he asked, stepping forward again. The hem of his robes brushed yours now, but you didn’t move back. You couldn’t.

“Last part?” you echoed stupidly, throat dry.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and this time his hand lifted—not hesitantly, but reverently—as though you might vanish if he rushed the moment. His thumb ghosted beneath your jaw, the faintest brush of contact that left you aching for more.

“You know,” he murmured, voice deep and velvet-smooth, “that bit where you said you hadn’t really thought about me like that.”

You remembered. Of course you did. It was the one part of the conversation that had clanged in your mind like a bell since it left your lips.

“You meant that too?”

You swallowed hard. His fingers were still at your chin, gently anchoring you in place, and the look in his eyes—

You couldn’t look away if you tried.

“No,” you breathed, and it was so soft it nearly disappeared into the silence between you. But Regulus heard it. He saw it form on your lips, caught the tremble behind it.

“No, I didn’t mean that.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—small, private, and impossibly warm. You watched it unfold, saw the way his eyes softened as he noticed your hands fidgeting again.

He knew.

You felt it too.

“And what did you mean to say?” he asked, and there was a raw sort of need in the question, like it had lived in him for ages, waiting to be unburdened.

Like if you said the words now, it might change everything.

Your gaze lingered on his lips.

You hadn’t meant to stare, but he was close now—closer than you ever imagined he’d dare to be. And yet he was still waiting. Still asking for the truth with a calm so controlled it nearly masked the ache in his eyes.

He wanted to hear it. And you wanted to say it. But wanting and doing were not the same.

“I meant…” you began, eyes flicking up to meet his when you realized how long you’d been caught staring. “I meant I have thought about… something more…”

The words came out in pieces, light and thin like cobwebs, hardly brave or poetic. Nothing like the declarations you’d imagined in your head a hundred times. But it was real. And yours. And when you cleared your throat and added, “But they didn’t need to know that,” with a sheepish little laugh, something cracked wide open in his chest.

“No, I suppose not,” Regulus murmured, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips—one of those rare, real ones that reached his eyes and made them glow softer than moonlight.

You didn’t feel so nervous anymore. Not around him.

“So…” you tilted your head, teasing gently. “Spying on your friends these days, is that your new hobby, Black?” Your voice was quiet, but there was laughter behind it, light and fluttering. “Bit off-brand for you, Regulus.”

He chuckled lowly, and your heart stumbled at the sound—low, smooth, and entirely unguarded.

“When else was I going to hear you say all those nice things about me?” he replied, his voice rich with warmth and something sweeter. His thumb still rested beneath your chin, brushing idly along your skin like he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

Regulus Black had never been the touchy type. He was all self-restraint and deliberate space. But now? His touch was gentle, steady, and intentional. Like he had finally decided not to pull away anymore.

“I quite liked the part where you said I was a gentleman,” he added, the corners of his mouth quirking with quiet amusement.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning too wildly.

And then he leaned in. Not rushed, not hesitant—just certain. Your eyes widened, nearly burning from how long you kept them fixed on his. Everything about him in this moment—his steady breath, the warmth of his hand, the tender curve of his mouth—made the world shrink until it was just him and you in this quiet corridor that smelled faintly of old parchment and lavender.

“But for the record,” he whispered, and you swore you could feel every word land against your lips, “I’m lucky to have you, too.”

Your chest swelled, and your smile came freely now, radiant and soft as your fingers curled slightly in the fabric of his sleeve.

Yes. Just as you thought.

He was the warmest person you knew.

Regulus Black was the warmest person in this wide universe.

"And," he continued, his voice a shade softer, more reverent now, "you are my favorite."

You let out a breath of laughter, quiet and a little stunned, before you rolled your eyes at him. There was no real exasperation behind it. Only a fondness so deep it practically glowed from you.

"I know," you murmured, narrowing your eyes with playful suspicion. The smile you wore, though, that was sincere. Sweet and sincere and so unguarded it made Regulus feel like you had just handed him your entire heart without even realizing it.

"Must be a side effect of your staring problem."

He tilted his head slightly, guiding your chin up with the faintest tug of his thumb. His nose brushed yours.

You could feel the warmth of his breath as it mingled with yours, and just as you leaned into it, just as the world started to tilt, he paused. Of course he did. Always the gentleman, no matter how undone he felt inside.

"May I?" he murmured. His lashes dipped as his gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips, every syllable spoken like a secret. "Kiss you?"

You almost laughed from how impossibly soft he could be. You wanted to throw caution to the wind, wrap your fingers in the collar of his uniform and pull him in like you were in the climax of a dramatic novel. But your voice was trapped in your throat, and your limbs would not obey you.

So you closed your eyes.

And nodded.

Just barely.

It was enough.

His lips found yours with a grace that felt practiced, like he had been dreaming of this for far too long. And he kissed you like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers. Gentle, tentative, almost reverent.

Your body softened completely. Every piece of tension unraveled in his arms. Your hands, which had been stiff by your sides, slowly lifted and curled gently over his shoulders.

His lips deepened against yours in return, not forcefully, just sure, like he had found something precious and had finally been allowed to hold it.

His free hand, no longer gripping the book he always carried like armor, settled against your cheek. His fingers trembled ever so slightly before the tip of his index ghosted along the shell of your ear, down the line of your jaw, and back up again. Slow. Slow. Slow. Like he wanted to memorize you.

You felt like you might float away. Your heart swelled so high in your chest you were almost afraid of what would happen if you stopped.

And when you did part, it was not with loss, but with a quiet sort of awe.

Your lips still tingled. Your fingers still trembled slightly on his shoulders. Yet all you could do was smile. A real one. Warm and quiet and deeply content. And Regulus? He wore the same smile. Mirrored and soft. As if kissing you had rewired something inside him.

You did not even open your eyes for a moment, basking in it. And that made him chuckle.

"Next time," you murmured, dazed and dreamy, "I’ll let them know you are a good kisser too."

He smiled—genuinely, boyishly, almost bashfully—and leaned in to press a featherlight kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Don’t," he whispered. "I like that being just yours."

"Will you?" he murmured with a tease laced beneath the softness of his voice.

You nodded, leaning your cheek into his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his palm made you glow, even as a blush crept up your cheeks and your nose crinkled with hesitation.

"Well, maybe not right away," you mumbled, your tone sheepish now.

Regulus laughed, actually laughed. And it was the kind that made you feel like you had just discovered a hidden treasure.

His smile was wide, unguarded, and it lit up every inch of his face. The pink hue blooming across his cheeks was proof enough that whatever mask he usually wore had fallen completely away for you.

"Maybe not right away," he echoed. His voice dipped low again. Softer now and more tender.

His thumb stroked along the curve of your cheekbone, so carefully, like you were something fragile and precious that only he got to hold.

The sound of his voice, husky and warm against your lips, was enough to pull you under.

Your eyes fluttered closed instinctively. And when his lips brushed over yours once again, it was with all the careful affection of a boy who had never believed himself worthy of softness until now.

You kissed him back just as sweetly. Your fingers traced along the sharp edge of his jaw, hesitating for only a second before settling there. You wanted to pull him closer, wanted to let passion take over, but you did not, not yet. There would be time for that. You could feel it.

He would make time for you.

And for the first time in a very long while, Regulus believed in what you saw in him. He believed he could be kind, gentle, and loved.

But only because you had seen it first. Had named it. Had handed it to him freely, without condition.

He thought he should tell you, one day. That everything good he was becoming had started with you. But that could wait.

You had time now.

Time enough for him to return the favor. Time enough to tell you again and again just how extraordinary you were, until his lungs gave out and your cheeks stayed permanently pink.

Because that was the kind of future he wanted.

One where he never stopped reminding you that you were his favorite, too.

The words left his lips in a breath, a quiet confession. "Tu es le soleil qui me réchauffe."

 You are the sun that warms me up.

[my-castles-crumbling]

makeup - march 26 - black brothers - jegulus - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 391

“I’ve decided to take advantage of this whole ‘you snogging my best friend’ thing,” Sirius announced, walking into Regulus’s room at the Potters without so much as a knock.

Regulus, who had been reading, jumped and scowled. “What the fuck, Sirius?”

“Did you hear me? I forgive you for stealing my best friend,” Sirius said, spreading his arms like he was a generous monarch.

“Thank Merlin. I was so distressed. Will you leave now?” Regulus asked sarcastically.

“No. I need your help messing with Prongs,” the Gryffindor said, sitting on his bed with a little bounce. 

Trying not to show that he was a bit curious, Regulus sat up. “What’s in it for me?”

“This plan involves you turning James into a flustered mess, which could only be enjoyable for you,” Sirius shrugged. “And I get to see him act like an idiot in front of you. Win-win?”

He narrowed his eyes. “How?”

Sirius pulled something from his pocket. “Makeup.”

Instantly, Regulus scooted backwards, nearly falling off the bed. “No. Absolutely not.”

But Sirius was already begging. “Please? C’mon, Reg! I promise you’ll look amazing and if you don’t, I’ll–I’ll do your homework for the first month of school!”

Regulus tilted his head. “My Transfiguration homework?” he clarified. He hated Transfiguration and Sirius was pretty good at it.

“Yes!”

“Alright,” Regulus sighed, already regretting agreeing.

—

“Hey, Prongs? I have a surprise for you!”

The brothers walked into James’s room, finding him flipping through a Quidditch magazine and ripping out pictures.

“What? I-”

But as soon as he caught sight of Regulus, who was now wearing liberal amounts of eyeliner, a bit of mascara, and the slightest bit of lip gloss (this had been the biggest fight, but Sirius had insisted), he froze, mouth agape, eyes wide as saucers.

Regulus’s heart skipped a few beats, but he couldn’t help but grin. “Hi, James,” he said softly, smiling.

“I…I…”

Sirius burst out laughing. “I think we broke him! He’s never been so quiet! Holy shit! He’s lost for words! Like a silencing charm! James, this is pathetic, mate!”

James was turning red, his eyes flitting over Regulus’s face, and it took several long moments before he swallowed and said, “Fuck. Reggie, you look…”

Regulus just chucked. He would never admit it, but Sirius had been right. Maybe he should wear eyeliner more often.

[latenightreadingpdf]

A Hufflepuff's Heart - Regulus Black

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Regulus Black’s unexpected friendship with a sweet Hufflepuff is revealed when Sirius catches them together.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The air in the castle was brisk, the cool draft weaving through the stone corridors and carrying with it the faint scent of autumn leaves and freshly lit torches. Regulus pulled his cloak a little tighter around his shoulders, his mind preoccupied with the latest round of pranks that had once again targeted Slytherin House. It wasn’t hard to guess who was responsible—his brother Sirius’s handiwork was as familiar as it was aggravating. Regulus could almost predict the moment Sirius would appear, armed with a smirk and a taunt, ready to test his patience yet again.

Sure enough, as Regulus turned the corner, Sirius was waiting there, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Ah, Regulus,” Sirius drawled, that irritatingly self-satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “How’s my favorite Slytherin?”

Regulus forced himself to remain calm, carefully keeping his expression neutral, planning to just walk right past his brother.

Sirius’s grin widened, undeterred. “I take it you noticed the common room… enhancement? Thought the emerald and silver scheme could use a bit of sparkle.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, the irritation flaring up despite his attempts to stay indifferent. “If you’re going to make yourself a nuisance, at least have the decency to make it subtle.”

“Oh, subtlety is no fun, Reg,” Sirius replied easily, leaning back against the wall, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Besides, it’s not as if you’re incapable of a bit of rule-breaking yourself. Don’t think I don’t know about those after-hours trips to the library—”

“Sirius,” Regulus interrupted sharply, his voice low but firm. “I’m not interested in discussing my nightly habits with you.”

Before Sirius could fire back, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by a familiar, bright voice that cut through the tension like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Reggy!”

Both brothers turned to see you striding towards them, your Hufflepuff robes swishing as you approached, your face lighting up with a smile that was warm enough to melt even the most stubborn winter chill. Regulus’s expression softened instantly, his usual guarded look replaced by something more open, more vulnerable.

Without a second thought, you walked right up to Regulus and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He stiffened for a heartbeat, caught off guard by your sudden affection, but quickly melted into the embrace, his arms coming up to hold you close.

“Hey,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes filled with warmth and a hint of concern. “How have you been?”

“I’m… good,” Regulus replied, his voice softer than usual, almost as if he were afraid of breaking the spell your presence cast. A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips, a rare sight that seemed reserved only for you.

As you finally pulled back, still standing close to him, you seemed to notice Sirius for the first time, your gaze shifting over to the older Black brother with a look of surprise. A polite, curious smile flickered across your face as you gave him a small wave.

“Oh, hi! I didn’t realize there was anyone else here. I’m Y/N,” you said, introducing yourself in that sweet, open way that Regulus had come to adore.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, looking you up and down as if trying to solve a riddle. He offered a nod, his grin softening into something more curious, though he said nothing in reply. For once, Sirius Black seemed to be at a loss for words. There was something he couldn’t quite place about you—a gentleness, a warmth—that seemed so at odds with the icy walls Regulus usually built around himself. It was strange, almost impossible to imagine someone so kind being so close to his guarded, distant brother.

After a moment, Sirius managed a slight smile, finally extending his hand to you. "Sirius Black,” he introduced himself, his tone curious, though he kept his usual charm restrained. “Regulus’s… older brother.”

You took his hand, returning his smile with a polite one of your own. “Oh! It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, a hint of surprise in your voice. You turned back to Regulus, seemingly oblivious to Sirius’s scrutiny. “I had no idea you had a brother, Reggy!” you said with a laugh, your eyes shining with amusement. “You keep him quite the secret.”

Regulus shifted, his hand instinctively tightening around your shoulder. He’d dreaded this moment for so long, the day you would meet Sirius, the brother who seemed to draw people in without effort, who everyone adored and admired. Regulus had always felt invisible in his shadow, the “other” Black brother, colder and quieter, always on the outside looking in. But you had seen him—you had seen past the walls, the carefully constructed mask, and found something worth holding onto. And he couldn’t bear the thought of sharing that with Sirius, of watching you get pulled into his brother’s orbit and realizing he could never be what Sirius was.

Sirius, still watching silently, caught the faint, possessive gesture, the way Regulus seemed to pull you closer as if trying to keep you all to himself. His expression flickered with something unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and something softer, something he hadn’t expected to feel. Seeing Regulus with you—seeing his younger brother so fiercely protective of this rare connection—stirred something in him, a strange pang of almost… respect.

The silence stretched, and you shifted slightly, glancing between the two brothers as if sensing the tension, though you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you gave Sirius a warm, friendly smile before turning back to Regulus, your hand reaching for his as you gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, Reggy and I should get going,” you said softly, looking up at him. “We’ve got some homework to catch up on.”

Regulus’s gaze softened at the touch, and he nodded, his lips curving into that faint, private smile that he reserved only for you. “Yes, we should.”

With a final nod toward Sirius, Regulus gently guided you down the hallway, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. He glanced back once, catching Sirius’s gaze, and for a fleeting moment, the brothers shared a look of understanding—a silent acknowledgment, a truce of sorts. Sirius watched as you walked away together, his brow furrowed in thought, his mind turning over the strange puzzle of his brother and his unlikely friend.

How did someone as kind, as open-hearted as you manage to find your way into the life of someone as complex and withdrawn as Regulus? Sirius couldn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom what had drawn you to his quiet, brooding brother. But as he watched the two of you disappear down the corridor, he felt a spark of hope, a rare flicker of warmth in the cold, stone-cast walls of the castle.

Maybe Regulus had found something Sirius had never truly understood—a genuine connection that didn’t rely on charm or bravado, but on something softer, something real.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[wolfstarsjegulus]

wish you were sober - word count: 529

@into-the-jeggyverse

prompt: sober

Regulus was having a peaceful night. He sat at the top of the Astronomy Tower, gazing over the grounds as well as the stars above, which were crystal clear tonight. He liked this time of night; everything was still, calm, and quiet.

That was until James Potter came stumbling through the door with the grace of an elephant doing ballet.

“Reggie! Thought I might find you here,” Potter took a seat right next to Regulus as if they were the closest of friends.

“Potter,” Regulus said, not even looking at him, “what may I ask has caused this sudden, unwanted interruption to my peace?”

“Aw Reggie, always so pessimistic.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Only Sirius is allowed to call him that, and even that’s rare.

This isn’t the first time that Regulus and Potter have met on this tower, nor is it the first time they’d had a conversation, but this time Potter was clearly drunk, so Regulus wasn’t interested in entertaining his strange infatuation.

For some reason, Potter was set on ‘getting to know’ Regulus as Sirius and he had begun to rekindle. He claims it’s because Regulus is his best friend’s little brother.

Regulus tried all he could to ignore him, but in these last few weeks, their talks seem to have grown beyond best-friend-brothers bonding and into something a little more.

Regulus won’t let himself get further down that line of thinking. He can’t do that to himself. He won’t.

“What are you doing up here?” Regulus asks, still not keen on fully engaging with a drunk James, but curious.

“Gryffindor victory party got too loud,” James replied, joining Regulus in looking out over the grounds.

Ah yes. Gryffindor’s Quidditch Cup victory for the third year in a row. Considering he’s on the Slytherin team, Regulus should be more annoyed that he’s been yet again defeated. But, honestly, he couldn’t care less at this point.

James’ answer, however, surprises him: “Thought you liked loud?”

“Not always.”

They stay in silence for a couple of minutes until James speaks up, “You calm me.”

Regulus is taken aback, “What does that mean?”

“Before I came up here, I had a million thoughts running around in my head, but now,” James says, moving closer to Regulus, “I only have one.”

“And what’s that?” Regulus replies, eyeing the hand that’s now moving up to tuck one of his curls behind his ear.

He should stop it. Anyone who knows him or of him would expect him to push James over the railing for coming anywhere near him. But he doesn’t.

“That you’re beautiful,” he whispers, face now inches from Regulus’.

“You’re drunk.”

It doesn’t escape Regulus’ notice that he can’t smell an ounce of alcohol on the older boys’ breath.

“Completely sober.”

“I wish,” Regulus moves to stand up but is stopped by a hand on his wrist.

“Stay.”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t stopped me,” James says as he begins to lean in.

And the bastard is right. Regulus doesn’t stop him even when their lips touch, and everything around them seems to melt.

And he can’t taste one bit of alcohol; he was right about that too.

Completely sober.

[tr0ubl3d-tr4n53nd3r]

So I have this sim I play in my legacy challenge, and her whole thing is kinda about how she has a whole hair journey, and since I have no (good) wifi on my computer, here is her whole hair journey to date.

(you may know her from the handheld ports of the sims 2... Ara Fusilli!!!!)

Ara had finally moved into a house away from her father, she look very similar to how she did as a teenager, except her hair grew out a bit for her wedding. at this point she felt like her life was complete, but felt kind of lost.

Ara and Lazlo have been married for a while now, and they finally decided to have their first kid. During her pregnancy she usually put her hair up so that it wouldn't be too much of a disturbance. At this point she was unemployed, and pretty much depressed, but anticipating the arrival of Reggie.

Despite her hair barley changing, this part of her life is important to mention. (this version is her og hair but without the little bit braided). She gave birth and her entire focus in life was dedicated to her son. At her roomates wedding she contracted a deadly disease, and ended up missing his whole childhood.

While being blocked away from the whole world, with nothing to do but read and cry to herself alone about how much she is missing out on she went insane. She tore hair out of her head and it got tangled, and choppy. The room she was social distancing in was wrecked. Everything that made Ara, Ara was gone.

Through her time with the disease she damaged her hair more and more. The agressivley red box dye she always put in it started to fade, and eventually she died on christmas day... kinda. The whole time she was like this Grim was just kinda like "Oh. poor kid. I guess I'll resurrect her" (she is unlucky btw). After her revival she started a life of crime... then got to thinking.

When Ara made the connection that she literally evaded death she tried to reinvent herself. A pass time that she once did casually as a kid (painting) became her whole job. during the time she had the disease, her roomates started earning so much money, that being an artist was honestly a safe career choice. Her hair was so matted and torn out that she had to shave it, which terrified her at the time but she grew to love it as a mark of new beginnings.

Because she missed so much of her own children's life, and her roomates were so busy working all the time, she decided to help them raise their own kids, solidifying them a house for their entire childhood. She practically became a second mother to Lemon Delossantos. Her hair grew a little and she dyed it red again.

Because she spent so long taking care of the kids, her hair started getting really uneven and patchy, and she decided to embrace that. This is the beginning of her really figuring out who she is. (also her hair is starting to fade back to brown a little.)

As she watched the children she basically raised as her own (And Reggie) grow up right before her eyes, she realized that she wasn't young anymore. She couldn't participate in trends young teens did- so she went retro. Around this time her art started getting more classical, some even being displayed in museums.

On the 28th anniversary of her close call with death, she started to see her husband's hair greying. She always knew he was older than her, but up until now she didn't really realize what that meant. She got much closer with her husband and son, and made sure to spend the remaining time she had left with them... well... with them. Alot of this period of her life was surrounded with death. Her brother In laws Vidcund and Pascal, Sister-in-laws Penelope Redd and Jenny, her father. Her hair doesn't reflect that too much, but she does just let it grow out, and keep dying in her signature red color.

On that same christmas Lemon and Reggie got engaged (No that isn't weird because we'll just say that Ara was a good mother-in-law figure for her), and did a celebratory woohoo, where they got pregnant with Cheddah' and Camembert, twin boys who take after their mother and paternal grandfather in being handy (for some reason) and she had to start dealing with the idea that she is a grandmother. Around christmas time as well, Orange had a kid of his own, him being the youngest of the three in the house really set things into perspective. Jean Luc (her lowkey annoying washed up celeb of a roomate who gets his french 'oui oui' out of his pants every five minutes) was starting to fall ill (he's about 78) and had to be admitted to the hospital. His life looked bleak, setting him at about one or two years (days in game) left to live. His wife was aging as well, at about 70 years old, and her husband not too far behind, and she started to realize that she herself was old. Sure she missed 10 years to illness... which places her mentally at about 39, but truthfully she is 49. She only has about 30-ish years left of her life, and she wanted to calm down a bit. She dyed her hair back to brown and even added greying streaks to make her look her age. She wants to make sure to be a good grandma to her grandkids. She doesn't want them to miss out on a grandma (or as she would differently word it herself) like Reggie did.

Currently that is all, but from my brain she has about two more hairstyles left before death so thats fun!

[accio-sriracha]

"What's it like?" Regulus asked quietly, staring at the stars from their hiding spot in the garden.

"What's what like?" Sirius replied.

Regulus turned to look at him, the grass tickling his nose, "Being in love."

Sirius' eyes never moved from the stars, "Why do you ask?"

Regulus shrugged, "Just curious, I guess."

There was a long pause, Regulus assumed Sirius was trying to find the right words.

"It's sort of like falling." He explained, "It's slow at first. You don't even realise it. One day you notice the colour of their eyes is deeper than you thought. Less plain brown and more... chocolate coloured. The next time it's hearing their laugh and feeling yourself smile without meaning to, like your body wants to react, like the sound is... healing, I guess."

He paused again, finally moving to face Regulus.

Regulus nodded for him to go on.

"Eventually, all of the things you used to do as friends feel... bigger. Every touch doesn't feel so casual anymore. Everytime they say your nickname it's less of a joke and more like a secret, something sacred between the two of you."

He sighed, "Then, one day, you look up and realise how far you've fallen. And it's like there's no turning back. Everything reminds you of them. Everytime you make a joke you look to them first, to see if they're laughing. Everytime they walk in a room it's like nothing else matters." He laughed softly, the sound was nostalgic, "You find yourself looking for reasons to talk to them. Anything to be close to them, to feel their touch. Nothing is casual anymore, there's always... meaning, always something more left unsaid. It's understanding someone so deeply, and having them know you too."

Regulus smiled, "That sounds nice." He whispered.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah, it is."

"I want to have that some day." Regulus sat up, playing with a blade of grass between his fingertips.

Sirius sat up too, his own smile reassuring, "You will." He nodded, "Anyone would be lucky to have you."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Regulus pulled away from the pensive, his eyes filled with tears.

"May I be excused, professor?" Regulus asked.

The professor nodded, continuing his lesson on finding a positive memory for conjuring a patronus.

Regulus walked out into the hallway. His hands shook as he scrubbed the tears from his face.

And, of course, a voice from behind him caught his attention,

"Reggie! Hey, I thought you had defense class this hour?"

Regulus turned, meeting the deep chocolate brown of Potter's eyes. His stomach flipped as it always did when they were together.

"I do." He sniffed.

Potter caught the look on his face and his smile dropped. At once he was standing in front of Regulus, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, I'm here." He soothed, his hands rubbing Regulus' shoulders.

Regulus couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, because the touch sent sparks across Regulus' skin.

Potter frowned, leaning back to look at him again,

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Regulus shook his head, his smile appearing of its own accord,

"I think im in love with you." He whispered.

Potter's eyes widened, he leaned back a little further, "Do you have a concussion? You sound loopy. We should get you to the nurse."

Regulus stopped him mid-stride as Potter began to lead him down the corridor. He shook his head, tears filling his eyes again,

"I'm serious, Jamie. I'm in love with you."

Neither of them made the Sirius joke, Regulus had never once seen Potter speechless like this.

Eventually, he seemed to find his voice again,

"You're in love with me?" He repeated slowly.

Regulus nodded, "I am."

James took a while to process this. Regulus realised he probably should have waited to give the news when Potter wasn't on his way to the lavatory.

He was just about to apologise when Potter took both of his hands in his own,

"I've loved you for as long as I can remember."

The words hit Regulus harder than he could have ever imagined.

Before either of them could get out another word, Potter was pulling him into a sweeping kiss.

Regulus knew without a doubt this was the feeling Sirius had been describing all those years ago.

But he was wrong about one thing.

Regulus was the lucky one.

[uramakimochi]

BABYSITTING TIME

Wolfstar x daughter!Reader

(But it's mostly uncle Regulus and uncle Barty here sorry)

- yes i know there's David Tennant but i'm in love with the fancasts leave me alone (you can imagine whoever you want though) -

WARNINGS: nothing just fluff, FEM!R but no use of Y/n, Regulus and Barty babysitting Wolfstar daughter, Barty being Barty but we love him for it. This is sort of connected to this post but it can also be considered as a single piece.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

Regulus and Barty were sitting on the living room couch, while you sat at their feet on the carpet, playing with your toys. Until you suddenly raised your head to look at them.

"Uncle Reggie, Uncle Barty?"

"Yes, my dear?" Regulus asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Can i ask you a question?" you said, looking at them with your big bright eyes.

"You just did, little viper" Barty replied.

Regulus turned to glare at him and slapped him on the arm, but the other smiled amusedly, knowing that this response would make the little girl giggle. In fact, you laughed, shaking your little head shyly and hiding your face behind your rag doll.

"No Uncle Barty, that wasn't the question"

Regulus ignored the arrogant look of Barty next to him, who was looking at him with an expression that seemed to say "What did i tell you?" and looked back at his (only) favorite niece.

"What did you want to ask us, amour?"

You stood up on your little legs and reached Regulus', climbing on top of him and sitting on his lap. He welcomed you without any problems and clasped his hands behind your back to prevent you from falling backwards.

"How are babies born?"

Regulus stiffened and felt his heart skip a beat. Okay, that wasn't the kind of question he was expecting at all. Barty, grinned even more mischievously, now curious to know what his friend would've answered.

"Why are you asking this, darling? Aren't you a little too young to be asking these questions?" Regulus replied skillfully, trying not to let his embarrassment show.

But you shrugged, continuing to stare intently into his eyes for an answer, not seeing where the problem was. And the more Regulus looked at you the more it seemed like his forehead was starting to sweat. He really had no idea what to say to you. But then he opted for the easiest answer.

"You have to ask your fathers these things, chérie"

"But i want to know now!" you replied impatiently, rocking back and forth. "How were you born Uncle Reggie?"

When you leaned towards him to grip his shirt in your fists, Regulus didn't hold back from letting out a small sigh. You were a sweet little girl like Remus, but even though you weren't their biological daughter, you still inherited some of Sirius' stubbornness somehow. Regulus knew that the matter would not be over until you received an answer.

"Alright" he murmured, giving you a small, uncertain smile and you focused all your attention on him, more intrigued than ever. "Listen sweetheart, when two people love each other and want to have a child... Um, they-"

"They do a thing called se-"

Barty nearly screamed in pain when Regulus' palm left your back to slap over his mouth, stopping him just in time from what he was about to say. Barty turned to glare at him, but what he saw was only a murderous glare from Regulus. The two exchanged a mental conversation, while you looked at them in confusion, alternating your eyes from one to the other.

"Uncle Reggie?"

Regulus turned to look at you, smiling innocently again, as if nothing had happened.

"It's the stork, chérie" he said soothingly, still clamping his hand over Barty's mouth. "The stork brings babies to the homes of parents who want a child"

Your eyes widened.

"Like the owls that bring us letters??"

"Exactly" Regulus nodded and Barty rolled his eyes. "Your dad and daddy asked the stork for a baby girl and the stork brought you here to them. And your grandparents did the same thing with Remus, Sirius and me. And also James and Lily with Harry"

"Ooh! That's so cool!"

Regulus chuckled when he saw your surprise at having learned something new. And he felt very satisfied with having succeeded in his job, unlike that idiot of Barty. And speaking of Barty...

"Sweetheart, i have to talk to Uncle Barty about something important" Regulus said and you nodded understandingly. "Why don't you go into the kitchen and have a glass of juice? Then i'll make you something to eat, sounds good?"

You nodded frantically, not wanting to miss the opportunity to drink anything other than water before dinner.

"Thanks Uncle Reggie~" you said with a big smile, leaning towards him to leave a loud smooch on his cheek, making his heart beat a little faster in tenderness.

Then you got off his lap and ran to the kitchen and as he saw you disappear around the corner, Regulus' smile fell in a split second and he turned to look at Barty again, finally removing his hand from his mouth.

"Aah, about time!" Barty took a deep breath, then rubbed his cheek with his hand. "Did you want to suffocate me or something?"

Regulus glared at him even more evilly than before.

"Were you really going to talk to my niece about sex?! Are you out of your goddamn mind??!"

Barty shrugged, leaning back on the couch cushion. "It's not like she can understand anything about it, she's a child. How old is she, like 4, 5?"

"She's almost 7, you idiot!" Regulus retorted through gritted teeth, then lowered his voice again, not wanting to be heard by you. "And it doesn't matter if she doesn't understand anything, because at this age she tells his parents all the new things she learns! Remus would kill you. And Sirius would kill me because i didn't stop you!"

"You're all too sensitive" Barty muttered, waving a hand. "As soon as my little viper discovers the world of adults, she won't want to talk to any of you about it but she'll run to Uncle Barty, because she knows that i'm the only one who can tell her everything there is to know. Just wait"

This time it was Regulus's turn to roll his eyes with a sigh. You were still too innocent in his and your fathers' eyes, he just hoped that the time you would become an adult would never come.

"Uncle Reggie!"

Both Rugulus and Barty heard your voice coming from the kitchen.

"Could you get me the juice, please? Dad put it on the top shelf and i can't reach it!"

"I'll be right there chérie!" Regulus exclaimed, then shot one last glare at Barty, pointing a finger at him. "Not. A. Word"

Barty raised his hands in surrender with a smirk and Regulus rose from the couch, followed by him. The two joined you in the kitchen and while you sat down at the table, Regulus took the bottle of fruit juice from the cupboard, then poured it into your glass and handed it to you.

"Uncle Barty" you called, placing the glass on the table and looking at your other uncle, who was standing leaning against the countertop with his arms crossed. "What were you about to say before Uncle Reggie put his hand over your mouth?"

Barty smiled amusedly and passed from your pure eyes to Regulus' ones, who was looking at him sternly from behind you.

"Nothing, little viper" he replied simply. "These are things you'll know when you're older"

You huffed and crossed your arms, making him chuckle.

"Ooh ugh"

The following morning, while Barty was lying on the sofa in his house, busy doing precisely nothing, suddenly the fireplace in the living room caught fire and the figure of Sirius emerged from the green flames.

"BARTEMIUS CROUCH JUNIOR HAVE YOU TRIED TO TALK TO MY DAUGHTER ABOUT SEX?! I SWEAR I'LL BITE ALL YOUR HORRIBLE TATTOOS OFF YOUR BODY COME HERE YOU FUCKER"

Barty had no time to realize the situation before Sirius became Padfoot and began chasing him, barking loudly. Barty screamed in fear and jumped over the sofa to escape Sirius' fangs.

A few seconds later, Remus also appeared in the living room, with your body lifted in his arms. He also had a furious look on his face, but he tried to keep himself from saying profanity for your sake. And then, his husband was already taking care of Barty.

"I want to play too!" you suddenly exclaimed, watching your father and your uncle run around and not understanding that in reality that wasn't a game for them at all.

And while Barty was running around the living room, chased by Sirius, you got out of Remus' arms to run after Padfoot, in a continuous circle.

Remus ran a hand over his face in exasperation. Now he understood Regulus.

[valenftcrush]

⩨MISDELIVERED ˙˖✶ james potter

pair: james potter x fem!reader warnings: none, kinda fluff; English isn't my first language so it may contain spelling mistakes.

Summary: When Y/N receives a package meant for the boy upstairs, she doesn’t expect it to come with a cat, lavender tea, and a smile that lingers longer than it should.

Y/N wasn’t particularly fond of living in a building where the ceilings creaked with every step, the walls seemed to have ears, and parcels always ended up in the wrong place. Still, the rent was reasonable, the flat got a decent amount of natural light in the afternoons, and if she managed to ignore the neighbour blasting electronic music at three in the morning, she could just about convince herself that her life was somewhat under control.

Until that day.

That day, the doorbell rang. When she opened the door, no one was there. Just a box resting on the threshold. Her long-awaited order: scented candles.

“Finally…” she murmured with a faint smile, stepping back into the flat without checking the label.

With a pair of scissors, she eagerly opened the box, anticipating the sweet scent of vanilla and spices. But what she found inside was something entirely unexpected.

A book titled "Breathe. Don’t Yell at the Universe", a white mug with gold lettering that read: "Best Cat Dad", and a box of lavender tea, all carefully packed alongside a note. “Jamie, I hope you’re taking care of yourself, but in case you’re not, I’m sending you this. Love, Mum.”

Y/N blinked. Then read the note again.

No. That definitely wasn’t meant for her.

She inspected the box more closely, a strange feeling settling in her stomach. Finally, she read the label:

James F. Potter – 3B, third floor.

3B… She lived in 3B, yes… but in the second floor.

“Seriously?” she whispered, shoulders slumping in defeat. The universe, once again, was mocking her life.

She knew who lived in the 3B upstairs. Well, she’d seen him a few times. The guy in dark hoodies, oversized headphones, and a look that seemed to hide secrets beneath his messy brows. He always stepped out of the lift just as she was waiting, but they had never interacted beyond fleeting glances. No greetings, no smiles. Just his perpetually tired expression, like the world was too much for him.

She’d once seen him wearing a shirt that said Chudley Cannons. And she’d assumed, without much thought, that it was some European rugby team or something. Honestly, she had no idea, nor any interest.

Though now, a flicker of interest was beginning to spark.

She sighed, put on her slippers, picked up the box and decided to head upstairs.

When she arrived, the door to 3B was ajar. Before she could even knock, a black cat peeked through the gap and stared at her with disdain. It was large, and its fur looked incredibly soft.

Y/N stepped back just as a voice from inside the flat said:

“Reggie, don’t go out. You know you’re not allowed to hunt pigeons on Tuesdays.”

The door opened fully, and there he was: James Potter.

No headphones, no hoodie, just an old T-shirt and pyjama bottoms. His hair was still damp, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. For a brief moment, he looked just as startled as she did.

They both blinked. Silence fell between them instantly and completely.

“Er… hi,” Y/N said, holding the box between them like a bridge between two worlds. “I think this is yours. It was delivered to the wrong 3B.”

James looked at the box, then at her, then back at the box.

“Oh…” he cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry. I… I must’ve put the wrong address.”

“It’s not your fault,” Y/N replied quickly. “Couriers always get the numbers mixed up. They don’t even check the floor, and… well, never mind.”

An awkward silence followed, though not entirely uncomfortable. More like clumsy, as if neither of them knew how to move forward. Neither wanted to close the door, but neither knew what else to say.

“Did you open it?” James asked eventually, his expression curious.

“Just a little,” she lied, though in truth she had examined every item with the precision of someone trying to decipher a hidden message.

James nodded, slightly embarrassed.

“Well… um, thanks. For bringing it up.”

“Of course,” she replied, offering a small smile—shy, but meant to carry a hint of warmth.

Another pause. This one lighter than the previous. The awkwardness lingered, but in a softer way. Neither seemed to know how to say goodbye without it feeling weird. No one wanted to be the first to shut the door.

“Well…” she began, just as he blurted:

“Do you want…?”

They both stopped.

“You first,” they said, again in perfect unison.

They both laughed softly, lowering their eyes. It was an almost painfully tender moment.

“I was just going to say… if you want to keep the tea. It’s a double pack. And Reggie doesn’t drink herbal tea. Yet,” he added with a wry smile.

“And I was going to say… it was nice meeting you. Even if it was thanks to a delivery mishap.”

James nodded thoughtfully, then, with a touch more confidence, said:

“Would you like to come up another time? I can make lavender tea. Or… whatever one’s supposed to do to not look like a complete idiot.”

Y/N shrugged, still smiling.

“Tea sounds good. Idiot, not so much—but you’re not far off.”

James let out a genuine laugh, the first one Y/N had heard from him up close.

“I swear this is still the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to me since I fell over in the middle of a national match.”

“Was that Reggie’s fault too?”

“Of course. He’s the real star player.”

Y/N smiled at him again, and he didn’t stop looking at that smile. As she made her way down the stairs, she couldn’t help but think that maybe there was more to this building than just creaks and misdelivered parcels.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hello there! i absolutely adore how you wrote for regulus and so if youre willing, I’d like to request for him with a reader who liked to collect things people consider weird (bug wings, bones found in the forest, etc) and she gives the prettiest/shiniest to him

can you also include her and pandora (+ the rest of the skittles) being friends? like reader and dory are both similar aka whimsy

idk something about reggie makes me want to give him all the weird pretty things in the world. Thank yiu and have a wonderful morning/evning/night!!

I FOUND THIS AND THOUGHT OF YOU.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤ ㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ R. BLACK

SUMMARY ৎ୭ you’ve always loved collecting weird little things, and regulus black has always been your favorite person to give them to. you’re not really sure when it started, but now it’s a habit

WARNINGS ಇ. fluff— lots and lots of it, whimsical!reader A/N ಇ. this idea was so adorable!! ty for the sweet words too ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,008

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had always been a collector of strange things.

Shiny beetle wings, hollow bird bones, stones shaped like hearts, broken glass smoothed down by the river. Anything that made other people wrinkle their noses or laugh unkindly, you pocketed with a smile.

Pandora understood, of course. She tucked fallen feathers behind her ear and pressed petals into the pages of her books until they dried and crumbled. Dorcas mostly shook her head and called you both odd little fairies, but there was affection in it.

Regulus… Regulus was different.

He never laughed. Never looked at you like you were ridiculous or childish. When you first offered him a twisted bit of silver wire you had found tangled in the roots of the Whomping Willow — dangerous, beautiful — he had only held it in his palm and said quietly, “Thank you.”

And now it had become a thing.

A ritual.

You finding something strange and lovely. Him accepting it.

It happened again on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

The group had gathered under the sprawling oak tree near the lake, sprawled in the grass. Dorcas and Marlene were throwing an apple back and forth between them. Barty and Evan were arguing loudly about something neither probably remembered. Pandora had fallen asleep on your lap, her hair a tangle of flowers and twigs.

And you… you had found something.

It was a fragment of a bird’s nest, woven with glinting scraps of metal and bits of blue thread, abandoned and half-crushed.

You turned it over in your hands, feeling the brittle, stubborn strength of it. It was beautiful in a way most people wouldn't bother to see.

You glanced at Regulus.

He was sitting cross-legged a little apart from the others, sketching absentmindedly in the margin of his Potions notes, silver eyes flickering between the page and the lake.

Quietly, you disentangled yourself from Pandora and padded over.

You didn’t say anything at first. You simply sat down beside him, close enough that your knees brushed. He looked up, one eyebrow lifting in that careful, curious way he had reserved only for you and Pandora.

You held out the nest.

“I found this,” you said. “Thought you might like it.”

Regulus didn’t speak immediately. He closed his notebook slowly, set it aside, and took the offering from your hands with an almost reverent touch.

His fingers brushed yours. You pretended not to notice how your breath caught.

“This is…” he began, then stopped. He turned the nest over carefully, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s strange.”

“Strange,” you repeated, a little breathless. “But good-strange?”

He looked at you properly then, the way he always did — like he was memorizing you.

“Always good-strange,” he said.

You ducked your head, feeling your cheeks heat. Picked a blade of grass and twisted it between your fingers.

For a few minutes, you sat there in comfortable silence, watching the lake shift and glitter under the pale sky.

Then, softly, Regulus said, “You don’t have to keep giving me things.”

You frowned slightly. “I want to.”

He studied you for a moment longer, the bird’s nest cradled carefully in his lap.

“Why?” he asked.

You shrugged, voice light. “You seem like you need them more than I do.”

He huffed a soft laugh under his breath, almost disbelieving. "I don't even know what to do with half of them."

"You don't have to do anything with them," you said simply. "Just keep them."

Regulus didn't reply right away. He only reached out, slow and tentative, and tucked a stray leaf out of your hair, his fingertips lingering just a little longer than necessary against your temple.

"I do keep them," he said finally, voice low and sure. "All of them."

Your heart cracked a little at that. In a good way.

"You do?" you whispered.

He nodded once.

"In a box under my bed," he admitted. "Don't tell the others. Evan would never let me hear the end of it."

You smiled so wide it hurt. "Your secret’s safe with me."

He leaned in slightly, like he might say something else — something heavier — but Barty chose that exact moment to shout across the lawn.

"Oi, Black! Quit flirting and come help me beat Evan's arse at chess!"

Regulus didn't look away from you. His thumb brushed your knuckles where your hands still rested lightly between you.

“Later,” he said quietly, a promise tucked into the word.

Then he stood, pocketing the bird’s nest with the same care he might have given a pocket watch or a precious letter, and walked away without a backward glance.

You sat there for a long moment, heart tumbling over itself, the air still shimmering where he had touched you.

Later, he had said.

You thought maybe — just maybe — you would be patient for him.

After all, you had all the time in the world. And you had so many more strange, beautiful things left to find.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re smiling,” Marlene accused loudly as they trudged up the castle steps.

Regulus shot her a cool look. “I am not.”

“Oh, you absolutely are.” Dorcas grinned, her face still smudged with mud from earlier. “I’ve never seen you smile that much in one day. Not even when Evan fell into the lake last month.”

“That was different,” Regulus said primly. “That was amusing.”

“That’s it,” Barty said, throwing an arm around Evan’s shoulders dramatically. “She’s bewitched him. She’s a menace. Look at him — carrying around bird nests like a lovesick magpie.”

“He’s in love,” Pandora sang, twirling a stick like a wand.

You just laughed, skipping a step ahead of them, your pockets jingling with collected bits of the day — a crow’s feather, a sea-glass shard, a handful of smooth acorns.

Regulus watched you, his hand curled protectively around the nest you had given him.

Maybe he was a lovesick magpie. Maybe he didn’t care.

You were worth it.

You were worth everything.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[olga-antonovna]

Marauders era - incorrect quotes edition James Potter, probably at some point in his life: I'm not convinced I know how to read. I've just memorized a lot of words.

Sirius Black: I'm pretty sure I'm having a heart attack, and I haven't arranged for anyone to clear my search history. I wasn't building a bomb, I was just curious!

Evan Rosier: If we needed to talk about feelings, they would be called "talkings."

Pandora Lovegood: I believe horses are from outer space.

Dorcas Meadows: Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.

James Potter, drunkenly apologizing to Regulus after an argument: I am the stupidest of all stupid boys.

Barty Crouch Junior, leaving a voicemail for Evan during his first family gathering with the Rosiers: Where are you, Evan? This place is fancy, and I don't know which fork to kill myself with.

Regulus Black: How about this as a science project: love is a myth.

Remus Lupin: I am not a successful adult. I don't eat vegetables and/or take care of myself.

Marlene McKinnon: Be optimistic? Learn? We're all gonna die alone, so...

James Potter: Yeah, I'd trust Beyonce with my life.

Sirius Black, jealous @ Reggie and James once they get together: You're allowed to be happy, but it's really annoying the way you're doing it.

James, to Sirius the first time Regulus comes over to visit the Potters: Dad and Reg seem to be getting along great...