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Would have given the world but you didn’t want mine

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regulus washes remus' hair on days he can't lift his arms for long enough

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Moonwater writing notes on each other's hands when they're not in the mood for talking and drawing little stars and moons next to their words.

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Just found out what my problem is again...

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Not nearly, everyone, including muggle-borns. That's how genetics work.

something i think about a lot is the fact that nearly everyone in the wizarding world apart from muggles are related to each other

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Regulus Black with depression, Regulus Black with autism, Regulus Black with bipolar disorder, Regulus Black with abondonment issues, emotional disregulation, pyschosis, mania Regulus Black with BPD, Regulus Black with a mind that works just enough to tell him that he's wrong but not how.

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"i'm a boy" "i'm a girl" okay??? well i know i will be dead long before you read this??? but i want you to know it was i who discovered your secret??? i have stolen the real horcrux?? and intend to destroy it as soon as i can??? i face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more???

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Qpr moonwater and Regulus not knowing the difference between friendship and romance but being consumed by Remus either way and hating himself for it.

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YOU'LL NEVER GET AWAY FROM THE FACE OF THE WOMAN WHO LOVED YOU

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Hass Idriss | Echoes of the Abyss

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Barty, hanging off the end of the bed with his head in Regulus’ lap watching shitty porn on cable: you can tell this was made in the 70s because his dick has sideburns.

Regulus, on hold for a work call, carding his fingers through Barty’s hair: that’s great, Bee

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Our house is a very, very fine house,

With two cats in the yard,

One insists on curling up in the folds of Regulus’ cashmere blanket like it was bought just for her, while the other follows Remus from room to room like a small, devoted shadow. They rarely argue, except over who gets to pick the dinner music, but it never really matters; they always end up dancing in the kitchen anyway. Regulus’ laughter echoes through the room as he watches Remus try to move with his too-long limbs, clutching the cat to his chest when she nudges his feet, her tiny black paw held gently in his large hand as he twirls her in some odd, affectionate version of ballroom dancing. It hurts Regulus a little, years of perfect lessons, of standing straight and moving just right, but this kind of dancing, with laughter and soft chaos, feels better than anything he was ever taught. There are always half-finished cups of tea left on bookshelves, paint smudges drying on the old wood floors, and a green mug in the shape of a frog that Regulus swears isn’t his, and yet only uses that one to drink his morning tea. (it is, Remus bought it when he saw Regulus looking at it with a lopsided smile on one of their first dates).

Life used to be so hard, Regulus had forgotten what it meant to be looked at softly, to be let in gently, to be loved with the kind of patience that doesn’t flinch when the past knocks at the door. But Remus never locks it. He just opens the door, pulls him in by the wrist, kisses the storm and the seeping cold out of his bones. He never knew he can just put his head on someone's lap and close his eyes for five minutes as the soft afternoon light filters through the window, but Remus' gentle hand carding through his hair so so softly never fails to remind him of what love is.

Now everthing is easy because of you.

Because of sleepy mornings and oversized sweaters. Because of the way Remus reads aloud when Regulus is painting, his glasses slipping down his nose despite his grumbling whenever Regulus teases him about “looking forty at twenty-eight,” his feet snug in lumpy, misshapen socks Hope helped him knit for Christmas. Because Regulus makes Remus his favorite coffee every Sunday morning, even while complaining about the beans. Because the hallway walls are lined with polaroids, and the fridge always has a note that says, "Don’t forget, I love you. P.S. Take your vitamins, love!!" Because Remus will come home with a bouquet of flowers and a shy smile on his face every five days and Regulus will take the wilting ones out of the green vase on their coffee table while his husband lights the fire to warm their living room.

Their house is filled with the softest kind of magic, not the kind you cast, but the kind you choose, again and again, with each morning and every quiet night.

Together.

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my old reliable

((obviously i've had complicated feelings for this franchise for a while bc of The Woman but seeing the marauders community be so lovely inspired me to come back)) ((plus i miss them a lot))

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why would remus lupin be scared of death when that's the only way he'll meet his lover again, he spent too long wondering when and where regulus black disappeared

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