kiwi2229

[kiwi2229]

Regulus : take me to an art museum and make out w me

James : but they said not to touch the masterpiece

Regulus ; well someone's got to pin the artwork to the wall

[kiwi2229]

Two years ago I spent the midnight of my birthday crying not knowing what to do with my life.

This year I entered my birthday laughing about silly stuff. I still don't know what to do with my life- but I'm okay with that.

[kiwi2229]

Regulus and James share whispered vows one night in the room of requirement

They put one of their own rings on the others finger

It wasn't official and it wasn't known about

But to them, it was as real as any marriage

They would both die wearing those rings

[kiwi2229]

Wip title game

Thanks @snarky-magpie for the tag ✨

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

Boggards

Death in a mirror

Hushed words, gentle water

Open sky (Jegulus angel au)

Marauders x scrub daddy

(and my personal favourite 😂) Of course another wip I don't have time to write

Low pressure tag: @badhairred

[kiwi2229]

Sirius Black is like Duolingo. Screams at you when he doesn't get his daily attention.

[kiwi2229]

"my child is perfectly fine-"

ma'am ur child knows ths werewolf from harry potters middle name.

[kiwi2229]

Sirius: [Walks in and puts a human skull on the table where James and Peter are sitting] Peter: Uhhh... Pads? Sirius: What? Peter: The skull? Sirius: Oh yeah, that's my uncle's. James: [lurches back] OH MY GOD!!! Sirius: No, it's not his, it belonged to him. He'd put it out every Christmas to remind us that even though it's the holidays, people still die. Sirius: Plus, you can put candy in it! Regulus: *Enters* Hey guys... Aww, the Christmas candy skull! You remembered!

[kiwi2229]

For everyone who is so mad about how The Handmaid's Tale ended…

Have you been paying attention to the whole series? There is so much said there. A perfect cycle. A story being told filled with lost, hurt, pain, violence but also hope, resilience, never giving up.

If you expected a grand finale with fireworks and a forever happy ending driving to the sunset you chose the wrong series.

[kiwi2229]

james absolutely bawled his eyes out the first time cat animagus regulus purred for him

[kiwi2229]

James and Regulus are both very possessive and James deals with that by leaving hickeys and bite marks and calling Regulus “his” while Regulus deals with it by killing anyone who dares to hold eye contact with James for more than five seconds

Balance

[kiwi2229]

The wedding in Choices. That's all I'm gonna say now let me cry in peace

[kiwi2229]

[kiwi2229]

night - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 757 - loosely inspired by "Call Your Mom" by Noah Kahan - CW: mental health struggles

The voicemail was only thirty seconds long, but it stretched across Regulus’ entire spine like ice.

James’ voice was a whisper—hoarse, wrecked—and Regulus had listened to it five times before his hands finally stopped shaking enough to get his keys.

“I just needed to hear your voice. I know it’s late. I know I shouldn't call. You don't have to call back or anything. Just... Just know I’m sorry. For all of it. For being so hard to love.”

Click.

That was it.

No goodbye. No location. No promise to be safe. Just that.

James, who never said sorry. James, who fought every storm with a grin and a bottle and the kind of laughter that made your ribs ache. James, who told Regulus he was the only thing keeping him sane some nights, after the war and the funerals and the way the silence always settled too deep in the bones.

And now that voice—quiet. Flat. Fraying at the edges like a worn-out photograph.

Regulus didn’t think. He just drove.

He didn’t even know where he was going at first. But he knew James had been staying at that old cottage outside Ottery St. Catchpole since Christmas, isolating under the guise of "redecorating" and "self-reflection." Regulus hadn’t seen him in three weeks, not since their last argument—the one where Regulus had said, “If you’re going to self-destruct, do it without dragging me down with you.”

He wanted to take it back now.

He’d take back every cruel word if it meant James picked up the phone. But he didn’t. Not after five calls. Not after the sixth. Not even after the fifteenth, when Regulus left his own voicemail.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Potter. Don’t fucking dare. I’ll be there soon.”

He broke the speed limit the whole way. Didn’t care. Didn’t blink when he flew past the blinking lights of petrol stations or when the road disappeared in rain and fog. The sky was breaking open over the moors, but he gripped the wheel and kept going. Didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

By the time he reached the cottage, it was just after 3 a.m. His hands were still trembling as he climbed the stone steps.

The lights were off.

The door was unlocked.

“James?” he called out, already halfway inside.

Silence answered.

He stepped into the dark living room, kicking aside a pile of discarded blankets. Empty bottles on the table. A pair of glasses thrown haphazardly on the floor. No wand in sight.

“James!”

The bedroom door creaked.

And there—curled up on the bed, knees to chest, eyes open but glassy—was James.

Regulus didn’t breathe until James moved. Just his eyes at first, then his chest, and then—

“Reg,” he croaked, voice ruined. “You… You came.”

And that was it.

The dam broke.

“You fucking idiot,” Regulus hissed, crossing the room in seconds, grabbing James by the shoulders. “You can’t leave a voicemail like that. You can’t do that to me!”

James blinked. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” Regulus said, voice cracking. “Don’t pretend it didn’t sound like a goodbye.”

“I just—” James started, then broke off, curling forward. “I just felt like I was drowning and there was no one left to pull me out. And I thought if I could hear your voice, just for a second…”

He trailed off.

Regulus crouched in front of him, heart pounding.

“You said you were sorry,” Regulus whispered. “You said you were hard to love.”

James closed his eyes.

“You’re not,” Regulus said, fierce now. “You’re infuriating and reckless and your flat is a disaster and you don’t know how to stop pushing people away—but you’re not hard to love.”

James looked up at him, eyes rimmed red.

“I’ll drive all night just to make sure you’re alive still,” Regulus said, voice shaking. “I did.”

James flinched.

“I don’t care if we fought. I don’t care if you think I should hate you. I don’t. I never could.” Regulus’ voice dropped. “Don’t ever scare me like that again. If you need someone—if it’s too heavy—call me. I’ll answer. I’ll always answer.”

For a long moment, James didn’t say anything.

Then—

“I didn’t know if I deserved it,” he whispered. “Your voice. You.”

Regulus’ hands curled into James’ sleeves.

“You do,” he said. “You always have.”

And James—shattered and exhausted—folded forward, pressing his forehead to Regulus’ chest, fingers grasping at his shirt like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

[kiwi2229]

anyone else ever wish they could lie down harder? Like, I'm already horizontal, but I need more horizontal. I need to be absorbed by the floor. I think that would fix me

[kiwi2229]

I’m so sorry, it’s ok - I’ll find my way to the corner to stand there..

[kiwi2229]

James: Reg, there’s a monster under our bed and it’s really ugly!

Barty, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

[kiwi2229]

It's the stories. It's the art. It's the people. It's the laughs. It's the cries. It's the international flights. It's the short busrides. It's the late night talks. It's the good morning messages. It's the excitement. It's the pride. It's the sharing. It's the friends. It's the love. It's the community.