smokinggoldd

[smokinggoldd]

girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)

May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"

they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day

3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?

you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!

Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening

p1 | p2

CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])

Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 

“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.

While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 

But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 

That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 

Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 

And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.

You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.

Couldn’t be you, however.

No.

You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.

Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 

You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 

You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 

Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.

And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?

But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 

Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 

You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 

Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.

But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.

And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.

Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 

Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?

Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.

No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.

So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.

You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 

You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 

Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.

“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.

“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 

“Says who?”

Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”

You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 

He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”

You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”

“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”

“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 

“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”

The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.

“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 

“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 

His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 

“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 

You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.

“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 

Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.

[smokinggoldd]

Happy birthday to the wonderful, amazing and beautiful Lily Evans—a strong and powerful woman who ended the first war and one of the cleverest in her year. Yeah, she's hot, badass, and a total girlboss, but what people don't talk about enough is that she's also soft-hearted and sometimes insecure. She's so clever, but she feels like the only reason she gets good grades is that she overworks herself more than anyone else because she doesn't believe she's naturally gifted.

She tells the bullies she doesn’t give a damn when they call her a Mudblood, but secretly, sometimes, she wonders if she really is less capable because of her blood or if she could ever truly compare to the pureblood wizards, even though she works twice as hard to prove them wrong.

Lily has a way of making everyone feel special, but she sometimes struggles to feel special herself. She pours so much energy into lifting others up that she often forgets to let herself rest. She’s the kind of person who would stay up all night helping someone with their problems, even if she’s drowning in her own.

She notices things about people that no one else does: the quiet student who feels invisible, the friend trying to hide their tears, or even the boy who always seems so confident but gets this look in his eyes when he thinks no one’s watching.

She’s so incredibly easy to love, and I don’t think she ever truly realized it—how quickly James fell for her, how Snape fell too hard, how the teachers spoke about her with so much admiration, how much she meant to Remus, how much Sirius missed her once she was gone, how much Harry needed her. And surely, there were so many others who loved her.

Because Lily Evans is just that easy to love.

[smokinggoldd]

why do i feel so much affection for a fictional character?

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i literally love regulus black so much holy shit

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rosekiller head-canon; seer evan, canon-based tl

there’s been a few head-canon videos on tiktok about seer rosier twins. pandora can see the future and evan can hear it, but neither can do both. this is what came of it in my head.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

evan, who heard the screams/voices of the future, but he’d never heard barty’s.

he thinks, hopefully, that it means barty had a good life, a happy one, maybe even one with evan by his side. he could hear his own death, could feel it, but the screams that came out weren’t familiar. he doesn’t hear his own voice when he dies, not because he can’t, but because it’s not him screaming.

what evan doesn’t know, is that his and barty’s future and shared agony were so intrinsically linked, that when evan lay dying, when his shoulders were heavy against the ground, his chest sporting a gaping hole and barty was there- he heard that familiar scream.

that raw, primal gut-wrenching scream that had infested evan’s dreams his entire life- belonged to the one person who had always been by his side.

the one person he’d never again stand side by side with because barty’s death, as evan heard countless times, was quiet and muffled- like someone had their hand over his mouth as the life poured from his body, like his soul was sucked out by a vacumn.

their deaths were nothing like the people they were. barty was not silent, evan was not loud. their deaths, like their lives, could only be a reflection of each other.

in the end, it was barty who spoke for evan, who screamed, who used his voice for evan when evan, once again, couldn’t.

choking on blood, no sound pouring out of evan’s mouth- he wanted to scream, to say something, anything, but the quiet that had been his life (and now his death) was interrupted by barty. he was there and he was screaming for evan when no one else would.

in the end, barty mourned silently. all empty eyes and quiet sniffles. hand clutching a shirt or a hoodie of evan’s. it’s so jarring compared to his typical, abrasive self that it concerns people.

he’s still so loud about evan. talking about him, remembering him, loving him, but in the moments where it’s only barty and his thoughts, his memories, he’s quiet.

he is quiet because the quiet reminds him of evan and he desperately, wholly, and with a heart loudly wailing (but his mouth shut) holds to anything that reminded him of evan.

barty hated the quiet, the silence, but he loved evan enough to love those too. so, he mourns, and his mourning sounds like evan, and it’s enough. evan is always enough, always had been, always would be.

even in the quiet of his absence, it was always evan.

[smokinggoldd]

rosekiller-core

[smokinggoldd]

ya ever just think about how mind blowing it is that fanfiction is free

like we’ve got people out here writing the most breathtaking, agonizingly beautiful prose you’ve ever fucking read—the kind that punches you in the gut and steals your lunch & you’re left hunched over and gasping for more, please—and it’s just some little guy somewhere with a computer and a dream and it’s free

i’ll never get over it man lmao

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yesterday i watched a complete unknown with my nana. it was so good holy shit.

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today at work a man called james bought a bottle of wine. it was remus wine. the marauders are following me everywhere.

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how have i not realised this before?

I fricking love how rosier calls Barty 'bee' it's so hdhshsnsn cute (uncharacteristically) but also the fact that Evans name is literally a rose/ flower and Barty's nickname is a bee jsjsnsnsns they are a set do not separate I will cry

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Y’all are joking about Gilderat but I’m dead serious

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Evan Rosier

he may not be real, but he is the loml

[smokinggoldd]

I don't think people who don't like Jily get Lily like I do because she was abandoned by two of the people she loved the most in the world: her big sister, Petunia, who gave up on her just because she was different and was most definitely envious of her, and her childhood best friend, Severus, who she had always found comfort in when things weren't right but ultimately chose his blood supremacy beliefs over their shared love and pain. And then there's James Potter, who despite everything (despite Lily purposely pushing him away for years) never gave up on her. Instead, he grew into the kind of person who could stand by her side. Even until the end, he gave up his last breath to defend her and their son because he loved her more than life itself. And that’s why Jily is so wonderful: because James was everything Lily needed but never thought she’d have.

[smokinggoldd]

i want to be marlene mckinnon so bad

[smokinggoldd]

So Close, So Right

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: "I was thinking..." James paused, wetting his lips and continuing, his voice filled with a nervousness you didn’t usually see in him. "Can I kiss you? And if you don’t like it, you can give it back."

Warnings: none - i think

Masterlist

The sun poured over the Hogwarts gardens on a lazy afternoon, warming the soft grass and filling the air with a fresh scent that seemed impossible to recreate anywhere else. The place was peaceful, save for some distant laughter from other student groups scattered across the grounds. But for you and James, it felt like the world had shrunk to fit only the space of the blanket he had laid down under the shade of a tree.

James was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, while his eyes—those vibrant blue eyes behind the lenses of his glasses, which you could never ignore—followed every one of your movements. His hair was messier than usual, a dark chaos that seemed to refuse any attempt at order, but somehow made him look even more charming. He absentmindedly fiddled with a piece of grass, a mischievous smile playing at his lips, as if he was thinking of something you didn’t know yet.

You let out a contented sigh before lying back on the blanket, closing your eyes and allowing the warmth of the sun to caress your face. Moments like this were rare, and you found yourself silently thankful for it. But more than that, you were aware of James' presence. It was always like that with him, as if he occupied all the space around you without even trying.

James was watching you with an intensity he could barely hide. His eyes moved over your face, absorbing every detail: the curve of your lips, the way the sun seemed to play on your cheeks, the relaxed expression that made his heart stumble in his chest. As much as he tried to act like the casual friend he had always been, there was something different about that afternoon. Something he knew he couldn’t ignore anymore.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asked, trying to sound casual, but the roughness in his voice betrayed him.

"So much," you answered without opening your eyes, your voice calm.

James hesitated for a moment, his fingers toying with a blade of grass before letting it go. He leaned a little closer, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before deciding what to do. When his fingers finally touched your hair, it was so light that it almost felt like a whisper. He ran them through your strands, watching how they looked even softer under the sun's glow.

Your heart raced, but you didn’t move or open your eyes. You didn’t know what James was doing, but the gesture was so tender, so different from his usual self, that you didn’t want to interrupt.

"James?" Your voice came out low, hesitant, but filled with curiosity.

"Yes?" he replied, his voice dipping into an almost husky tone.

You opened your eyes, finding him leaning over you, his face closer than it should have been. His fingers were still playing with your hair, now moving in a slower, almost hesitant rhythm.

"What are you doing?"

The question made him smile, and he tilted his head a little, as if pondering the answer. The mischievous gleam in his blue eyes shifted to something deeper, something that made the air around you feel different, heavier.

"I was thinking..." He paused, wetting his lips and continuing, his voice filled with a nervousness you didn’t usually see in him. "Can I kiss you? And if you don’t like it, you can give it back."

The world seemed to stop for a moment. You blinked, processing the words he had just said, the meaning behind them curling in your chest in a way that almost hurt. He kept looking at you, his expression torn between expectation and a certain fear.

"James..." You started, your voice softer than you had intended.

"You don’t have to answer now," he said quickly, his fingers still in your hair, now moving in a rhythm almost soothing. "Just... think about it. Because I have, and I can’t stop thinking about it."

There was something so vulnerable in his confession that your heart ached. He wasn’t the James everyone knew in that moment. He wasn’t the confident, charming boy who always seemed to have the right words. He was just... James. Your James.

And in that moment, all you wanted was to say yes.

You took a deep breath, as if preparing yourself to leap off a cliff, but instead of fear, all you felt was the certainty that, this time, there was nothing to be afraid of.

"I don’t need to think," you said, your voice soft but firm.

His fingers, still playing with your hair, froze for a moment. James’ eyes widened slightly behind his glasses, a perfect reflection of the surprise he was feeling. He blinked a few times, as if wondering if he had heard you correctly.

"You don’t need to...?"

"No," you repeated, propping yourself up slightly, supporting yourself on your elbows to get closer to him. The movement brought your faces even closer, and you felt the warmth of the sun give way to the heat of his presence, so intense that it seemed to envelop everything.

James blinked again, but this time, the corner of his lips began to curve into a smile so radiant that it seemed to light up more than the sun itself. He laughed, a short, nervous laugh, as if trying to absorb the moment.

"Are you serious?" he asked, his voice thick with a nervousness you had never seen in him before.

"Yes, James," you answered, your voice quieter now but full of sincerity that left no room for doubt. "I’m serious."

His gaze softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours as if they were the only thing that mattered in the world. You noticed how different he seemed in that moment—not just vulnerable, but also absolutely sure of himself, as if he knew this was one of those choices he would never regret.

"So, does this mean you're going to let me kiss you?" he asked, the shadow of a playful smile returning. But there was something deeper behind his words, something that made his heart beat so fast that you could almost feel it.

You smiled back, a small smile, but full of meaning. "It means I want you to kiss me."

The words had barely left your mouth before he closed the space between you. It wasn’t a rushed or desperate movement, but one full of care, as if he wanted to memorize every second it took to reach you. When his lips finally touched yours, it was as if the world stopped spinning.

The kiss was soft, a perfect mix of hesitation and desire. His lips were warm, with such a delicate touch that you felt a wave of heat rise through your body. The hand that had been in your hair moved to your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle circle on your skin, while the other hand pressed into the blanket, as if he needed to anchor himself to avoid losing his balance.

You kissed him back with the same intensity, your fingers clutching his shirt, feeling the fabric in your hands as your heart beat too fast in your chest. There was a sweetness to the moment, a sense that everything was finally falling into place, as if this was inevitable.

When you pulled apart, both of you were out of breath, but neither of you seemed willing to fully distance yourselves. James kept his hand on your cheek, his thumb still softly caressing your skin. He smiled, a smile so full of happiness that it seemed to infect everything around you.

"I didn’t like the kiss," you said, the tone too casual to be convincing, but enough to make James freeze.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, and opened his mouth to protest, but seemed lost, his expression flickering between confusion and disbelief. "What? How can you not have liked it?"

You almost laughed at his expression, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to find enough words to argue.

"Well," you continued, biting your lip to hold back the smile, "I guess I’ll have to give it back."

It was only then that the memory of what he had said earlier hit him, and you saw his surprise dissolve into something softer. The corner of his lips curled slowly, a glimmer of understanding appearing in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Ah," he murmured, his voice low, the tone a little huskier. "So, that's it. You're going to give it back, huh?"

"Yes," you answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but the smile playing on your lips revealed that there was more to it than just a simple exchange.

Before he could respond, you were leaning in again, closing the small gap between you. This time, you took the initiative, and his initial shock was quickly replaced by the same intensity as before.

The second kiss was different—firmer, more confident, as if both of you knew exactly where you were and what you wanted. His fingers slid down the side of your face, to the back of your neck, while you felt your heart race again, though this time, you didn’t want to control it.

When you pulled away again, still so close that your foreheads almost touched, he let out a low laugh, a sound that seemed to come straight from his chest.

"Okay," he murmured, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "You definitely can’t give this one back now. I think you liked it more than you're willing to admit."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Conceited," you replied, but couldn’t stop the smile that widened on your face.

He smiled back, looking happier than ever. "With you? Always."

[smokinggoldd]

[smokinggoldd]

Ship so good it ruined my life