#tiny but strong Regulus

[t1oui]

i love the headcanon that james runs warm regulus runs cold so they're perfect together BUT what if it's the other way around.

james is this big cuddly looking strong guy and he is constantly FREEZING. he's so touchy not just because he likes touch but because literally everybody is warmer than him. he grabs regulus or lily or mary or pandora or remus's hand (any of his friends. any of them) and they immediately jump bc his hand is so cold.

then there's regulus. he's tiny and frail and everyone is always telling him to bring a jacket because he'll freeze but he WON'T. he's out in the snow in a long-sleeved t-shirt and slacks and nothing else and he's FINE. he might even roll the sleeves up.

when jegulus gets together james gets even clingier than usual the second he realizes how warm regulus is. people tell reg to bring a jacket when he goes out in the cold and he brings one for james. all of his hoodies are oversized b/c gender dysphoria (me too man, me too) and james steals them because they fit him perfectly.

just. cold james and warm reg

[butterli5]

Two times gold Olympic medalist Regulus Black who shocks the world one morning, one year before his last Olympics by leaving his coach, former figure skating legend walburga black, suddenly disappearing from the public eye.

No one knows where he went, or the fact that he opened his laptop and booked the first flight he could find leaving from New York, he ends up in a small village in nowhere England, renting a room in a family owned inn that was basically empty save for him and the other three owners of the place.

A little brown eyed boy in a blue wool hat keeps knocking on his door every morning to deliver a small basket of baked goods that his grandma sent for him, that little kid become the only human being Regulus talks to on a daily basis, uncapable of not smiling when faced with the sassy six year old who keeps interrogating him over warm scones and sourdough, that is until he finally makes his way down to the kitchens one afternoon two weeks later to find three people sitting on the dining table, a steaming pot of stew between them, the boy, Teddy jumps up excitedly and pulls him to sit with them, introducing him as his friend to his dad and grandmother.

Regulus starts spending more time downstairs, and eating more meals in the kitchen with the small family, Teddy's dad is always a flustered mess of honey colored eyes and blushing cheeks everytime their hands brush as they reach for something, Hope winking at her son playfully as he hits the chair in his haste to flee the room.

Eventually Teddy finds out what he does, and begs him with wide and tearful brown eyes to teach him ice skating on the frozen lake near the inn, his bottom lip wobbling as he told him that he has never had a friend he could play with before in his life, and so everyday they go out to the lake, Regulus teaching Teddy how to skate, cheering him on as he giggled in delight and then hugging him tight every time he fell down on his knees.

Usually, Remus comes around noon to bring them a small basket with little snacks and sandwiches, as well as warm hot chocolate and they sit on a tree log, the both of them exchanging shy looks and stolen touches as Teddy babbled about one thing or another.

If one year later, Regulus Black makes an apparence for the first time in months at the Paris Olympics, sending a flying kiss to a tall man with a seven year old who was dressed in a miniature version of Regulus' leotard on his shoulders as he cheered him on loudly, the same way Regulus had done the first time he tied his skates on his tiny feet by the lake.

He closes his eyes and thinks of strong arms wrapped around his waist, soft giggles under blanket forts and the smell of a home cooked meal as Hope sang along to Nico on the record player, and as the first beats of the song played around him, Regulus Black is finally set free.

[beataylorsversion]

definitely - @rosekillermicrofic - tiny bit of jegulus - word count: 517

It had started small. A casual hand on Evans leg over dinner, the small private smiles they sometimes shared across the common room. And yes, sometimes Evan had caught Barty staring at him, felt his eyes on the back on his neck. And he supposed, if he was honest, that there had been some flirting between them. Quite a lot of flirting actually.

But it didn’t mean anything did it? It couldn’t mean anything, not to Barty anyway. Because Barty Crouch flirted with everyone, Evan knew he wasn’t special in that sense. Everything was a game to Barty, and he supposed that he was just part of whatever Crouch was entertaining himself with at this moment in time.

Evan watched the boy from his seat on the couch, Barty was chatting animatedly to Regulus but every so often he would glace over and smile at Evan. It made his heart melt, Barty often managed to do that.

Their conversation appeared to be over, Regulus slapped Crouch across the back in a brotherly manner, muttering something that sounded like “Good luck mate,” but Evan couldn’t be sure. Lip reading had never been his strong point.

“Alright Rosie?” Crouch had taken a seat next to him on the leather couch, grinning widely.

That smile would be Evans undoing.

“Not bad Bee.” He replied, trying to keep his voice level as Barty shifted to face him, “What was Reg wishing you luck with?”

“Asking someone to Hogsmeade this weekend, thought he’d have some good advice you know? Given he managed to pull James - drop dead gorgeous – Potter.”

“Oh right.” Evan’s heart sank, this was it then. Barty had finished was ever game they were playing, at least he’d had that decency to tell him before he took this mystery girl out, maybe it would save him a lot of heart ache. He doubted it.

“Who is she then?” There was a lump in his throat, but he tried to swallow it down.

“Not a she actually.” A smile smirk was playing on Crouch's face.

Oh god it was a boy. This made it ten times worse Evan thought. Anyone but him, Crouch would go out with anyone but him.

“Who is he then?” Yup, his voice was shaking now, this was embarrassing.

“You.” Crouch said simply, still grinning.

Well, that was a surprise.

“I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it earlier to be honest. I’m crazy about you Rosie.”

Evan felt his face grow hot at Barty’s words. “You’re crazy about me?”

“Very much so Evan. I’m bloody obsessed with you; it���s probably a bit unhealthy actually. You’re basically all I can think about.”

“R-really?”

“Yup! I flunked a transfiguration exam because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I don’t think that was all my fault, you flunked your transfiguration exam because you didn’t pick up your notes until the morning of.”

“Hm maybe, but it was partly your fault.”

“Well, I’ll take partial responsibility then.” Evan was smiling too now, not quite believing the direction this was going.

“So, Evan Rosier,” Crouch grinned. “Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“Definitely.”

[bartonomy]

JUST A TOTALLY NORMAL DAY!

PAIRING dad!Regulus Black x mum!reader

SYNOPSIS Chaos is inevitable in the Black household, but even by your standards, the morning of your daughter‘s departure for Hogwarts is obliviate worthy.

CONTENT WARNING empty threats, tired reader, the kids being sirius coded, scary walburger used as a punishment

WORD COUNT 2.4k words

library.

The morning started peacefully. For approximately two and a half minutes.

You had barely stepped into the kitchen when an earsplitting crash echoed through the house, followed by the telltale shriek of your youngest child. Not in distress- no, the boy sounded delighted.

Regulus, who had been calmly reading the Daily Prophet with his usual air of unbothered aristocracy, sighed and set the paper down. “I’ll handle it,” he muttered, standing up and rolling his shoulders as though preparing for battle.

You weren’t convinced.

“Do you even know which child it is?” you asked, already heading toward the noise.

Regulus glanced at the ceiling. Another crash. “I have a strong suspicion, my dove.”

You both emerged into the hallway to find the chandelier swaying dangerously above the entranceway.

Standing directly underneath it, looking entirely too pleased with herself, was Carina, probably the manifestation of all your previous sins. She beamed up at you both, utterly shameless. “That was an accident.”

“It was not,” piped up Atlas, peeking out from behind her, his tiny hands clutching the hem of her dress like a loyal henchman. “We did it on purpose.”

Carina whacked him on the arm. “Shut up, Attie.” He just giggled.

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even want to know how.”

“I’ll tell you!” Atlas offered eagerly. “'Rina wanted to see if the chandelier would hold her weight, and then-”

Regulus put out his hand in a stopping motion and turned to you. “I take it back. I want neither knowledge nor responsibility for this.”

“Too late, Black,” you said, striding forward. “Carina Pandora Black, what in Merlin’s name made you think that was a good idea?”

The girl shrugged. “I had a theory.”

“You always have a theory,” you muttered, before glancing back at the one child who had yet to make an appearance. “Where’s Lyra?”

Your eldest, Lyra, the one child you could trust to have some common sense, chose that exact moment to sweep into the hallway. She was dressed in her pristine Hogwarts robes, not a wrinkle in sight, her sleek dark hair brushed to perfection with no stray hair in sight. Eleven years old and already looking like she was prepared to take over the world.

And, true to form, she took one look at the scene before her and sighed.

“Mama. Papa.” She folded her hands behind her back. “I believe Carina and Atlas are attempting to sabotage my departure.”

Carina gasped, scandalized, eyes wide with mock offense. “I would never!”

“She would,” Atlas said to you, blissfully unaware of his older sister's betrayed look.

“I would not!”

“She would,” Regulus muttered.

Lyra huffed and straightened her robes. “We are leaving in an hour. I trust that they will be dealt with accordingly?”

That was the thing about Lyra- she had an unbelievable talent for sounding like a miniature adult, even more so than you. No doubt something she’d picked up from her father, who was now watching her with a faint look of pride and smugness.

“Oh, I’ll deal with them,” you said darkly, leveling a stare at your two youngest.

Carina, unrepentant, smirked. “You say that every time, and yet, here we are.”

Before you could lunge at your middle child, Regulus stepped smoothly between you. “Alright,” he said, voice calm but with that particular edge of warning that only he could manage. “I suggest you two get out of your mother’s line of sight before she forgets she’s a civilized woman.”

Carina, for once in her life, obeyed. With a dramatic bow, she grabbed Atlas by the collar and fled.

Lyra exhaled sharply. “They are truly exhausting.”

Regulus patted her on the head. “You’ll miss them soon enough.”

Lyra looked at her father and then shifted to you. “I find that highly unlikely.”

You met her gaze, unimpressed. “Oh, you think you’re better than the rest of us, do you?”

“Yes.”

Regulus, traitor that he was, actually chuckled. And that was only the beginning of the morning.

After the chandelier incident, you were forced to impose emergency lockdown rules

1. No touching things that hang from the ceiling.

2. No experiments before breakfast.

3. No ruining Lyra’s last day home before Hogwarts.

None of these rules lasted longer than ten minutes. Because while you and Regulus attempted to have a normal breakfast- if anything in this house could be called normal- Carina and Atlas managed to vanish.

"I swear, I am going to turn into your wretched mother if they don't stop testing my patience,” you muttered, scanning the room. “Where are they?”

Lyra, who was methodically buttering her toast like a proper aristocrat, didn’t even look up. “Do you want the truth, or do you want plausible deniability, mum?”

Regulus, sipping his tea, hummed. “Plausible deniability sounds nice.”

You shot him a glare. “No. I want the truth.”

Lyra finally lifted her gaze and deadpanned, “Carina mumbled something about a ‘final grand experiment.’ or whatever, I stopped paying attention after a minute”

Regulus lowered his teacup. “Final?”

You shot to your feet.

You found them minutes later in the sitting room. Or, rather, you found what was left of the sitting room.

Because somehow, your spawns of peeves himself had constructed a homemade rocket. Using what, you did not know- but there was smoke.

And some sort of slime. And fire.

And Kreacher, the poor house-elf, was fuming in the corner, muttering about how Mistress Walburga would have given them a good spanking.

“What,” you began, voice eerily calm, “is happening?”

Carina turned, utterly unbothered by your silent rage. “We were testing a propulsion spell.”

“For what reason?”

“For science.”

You blinked. “For science?”

“Yes.”

Regulus surveyed the room with the blank expression of a man who had long since accepted his fate. He casually stepped over the goo-covered coffee table and inspected the charred rug.

Then, voice perfectly measured, he asked, “And where, pray tell, did you get the spell? You don't even own a wand yet, Sweet Girl”

Carina beamed. “I made it up! And it's a secret, dad.”

Regulus turned to you. “She made it up.”

“I heard.”

“I think I need to lie down.”

Before you could threaten your offspring with the worst punishment imaginable (no Honeydukes for a month), Lyra walked in, took one look, and sighed.

“Mother. Father. I believe it is time we left for the station.”

You checked the clock. Oh, bloody hell.

Getting three children into your modified muggle car, dragging an eleven-year-old’s perfectly packed Hogwarts trunk, and ensuring the house didn’t literally burn down before you left was nothing short of a miracle.

By the time you made it to the car, Carina and Atlas were already plotting merlin knows what.

“I should bring a Kneazle home for Christmas,” Carina was saying.

Little Atlas gasped. “Can we make it fly?”

Lyra, long-suffering, pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t enchant a living creature like that.”

Her younger sister smirked. “Bet I can.”

You cut in before this could escalate into a full-blown argument. “'Rina, Atlas, if either of you so much as breathes near a spell book before we reach the station, I will put you in front of your grandmother for at least two hours.”

They immediately shut up.

Regulus glanced at you, impressed. “Effective.”

“I’m not above threats, Reggie. Do keep up."

Not just with Muggle travelers, but with other wizarding families. The familiar sound of owls screeching, trunks dragging, and last-minute goodbyes filled the air.

You gripped Lyra’s hand, trying to savor your last moments before she disappeared behind that scarlet train.

But your other children were determined to ruin the moment.

As soon as you reached the platform, the little 5-year-old spotted a toad. Probably belonging to some poor, unsuspecting first-year. And before you could react, he snatched it up and yelled, “'RINA, I HAVE A VICTIM!”

Carina, like a goblin who had just struck gold, went behind her father to retrieve his wand. “PERFECT. LET’S TEST-”

Regulus snatched her by the collar mid-attempt and you grabbed Atlas by the back of his dress shirt. Both children went limp in your grasp, expertly feigning innocence.

Lyra, for her part, looked like she was seriously considering leaving immediately.

“I’m never coming back,” she informed you, face scrunched up with embarrassment.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Regulus said, setting Carina down. “You’ll miss us, mon étoile. ”

Lyra raised an eyebrow.

Atlas, still dangling in your grip, smiled. “She will.”

Lyra sighed. You knelt to face her and cupped her cheeks, heart aching. “Are you ready?”

For the first time that morning, something shifted in her expression. The sharpness faded, just a little. She nodded.

You cupped her face. “You are going to be so so brilliant, Lyra.”

Regulus rested a hand on her shoulder. “Remember, no matter what house you’re sorted into, we are proud of you.”

Lyra swallowed, nodding once more.

Carin, now playing with the little ornaments on Lyra's trunk, sing-songed. “If you’re not in Slytherin, I will disown you.”

“You are nine and have no legal power,” Lyra deadpanned.

Atlas waved, still suspended in the air by your arm. “BYE, LYRA! STEAL A BROOM IF YOU CAN!”

Regulus groaned and took him out of your grasp. “Stop encouraging crime.”

You let go of Lyra, who immediately got smothered by Carina in a hug. Orion followed eagerly.

Lyra groaned but did not push them away. Then, with one last smile at you and Regulus, she turned and boarded the train.

The moment she disappeared inside, Atlas wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

“She’s gone,” he said solemnly.

Carina sniffled, playing along. “I cannot believe it either, dear Atlas, our baby sister gone away.”

“She was older than you.”

“Hush, dad. Let me have this."

You stared at them. “She is literally coming back for Christmas.”

Regulus sighed, slipping an arm around your waist. “I want to say the house will be calmer now.”

“Don’t lie to yourself.”

Your dear children, already plotting their next scheme, proved your point immediately.

EXTRA !

The first morning without Lyra was supposed to be peaceful.

You had envisioned a calm breakfast, perhaps even some rare alone time with Regulus, who was always so much less stressed when there were fewer children actively plotting crimes in his immediate vicinity.

But no. Because instead, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your own reflection in horror.

Your hair was green. Not a nice, subtle shade. No. It was toxic, neon, radioactive and absolute hideous shade of green.

You touched a strand, as if touching it would somehow undo the damage.

It did not.

From behind you, Regulus let out the slowest, deepest exhale of his life. “…So,” he said.

You turned, eyes blazing. “Where. Are. They.”

As if summoned by pure malice, Carina and Atlas appeared in the doorway, giggling and looking entirely too pleased with themselves.

Atlas gasped dramatically. “Oh no, Mama! What happened to your hair?”

Carina clasped her hands together, utterly devastated. “A tragedy. A terrible accident.”

Regulus slowly turned to them. “Explain.”

Carina beamed. “We may have… enhanced your shampoo.”

Atlas nodded enthusiastically and smiled toothily. “Just a little.”

You pointed at your radioactive hair. “A LITTLE?”

Your daughter shrugged. “It could have been worse.”

“Oh?” Regulus raised an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, was the original plan?”

Atlas perked up, ready to share. “We wanted to make it glow in the dark, but 'Rina said-”

Carina slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shhh, Attie. Don’t tell them everything.”

Regulus, for the second time in twenty-four hours, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have made mistakes.”

“I AM GOING TO MAKE YOU BOTH SCRUB CAULDRONS UNTIL CHRISTMAS.”

Carina- who had never feared anything in her life- placed a hand on her chest. “Mother, you wound me.”

Atlas beamed. “You look like a true Slytherin now!”

Regulus, despite himself, smirked. “…He has a point.”

“I SWEAR TO MERLIN, REGULUS BLACK, DO NOT ENCOURAGE THEM.”

Regulus held up his hands, utterly betraying you. “I’m just saying, it’s a very House-proud shade.”

Carina nodded sagely. “Father, clearly, understands the art of mischief.”

You threw up your hands. “Oh, so you think this is funny?”

In perfect unison, both of your children grinned.

“Absolutely!”

Regulus sat at the breakfast table, casually sipping his tea, while his children (the ones you were currently disowning) scrubbed cauldrons in the kitchen under your watchful eye.

“You know,” Regulus mused, watching Carina struggle to clean a particularly stubborn stain, “this was actually quite a tame prank.”

You turned, still furious, hair still violently green. “Would you like to be next?”

Regulus, a wise man, wisely sipped his tea and said nothing.

Your daughter, absolutely NOT learning her lesson, muttered, “It was totally worth it.”

Atlas, beside her, whispered. “Next time, we should make it rainbow.”

Regulus choked on his tea.

"Let's have kids, you said. They will be the greatest joy on earth, you said." you mumbled as you made your way to the (now fixed) sitting room. "I should've let you rot in that wretched cave."

"Love you too, mon amour!"

[willsolace-loml]

marauders characters as things my friends and teachers have said:

—

remus: they say god sends all his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers but i am not strong or a soldier

—

pandora: so i was looking at these brown pandas

barty: they make those?

—

james: when i was younger i had a fish, his name was bubbles, hes dead now tho

barty: well obviously bubbles isnt blowing bubbles anymore

—

marlene: WHY DONT U JUMP OFF A CLIFF AND ENJOY THE RIDE

—

remus: maybe im a furry

—

sirius: my heart is big but my balls r bigger

—

minnie: i dont like teaching but its wut i do

—

peter: *pointing to marlene* I WAS PLAYING A GAME ON MY PHONE, SHE TOOK MY PHONE, STRANGLED A MAN, BOUGHT A MILKSHAKE, AND GOT ME SENT TO PRISON!

—

lily: *while listening to gangnum style while drunk with james* EEEEEHHHHHHH SEXY LADY (mary)

—

regulus: you know wut i need?

james: me

regulus: anti depressants

—

sirius: remus is the sexiest of ladies, have u seen his legs

—

adult remus: there are coworkers i dont like-

harry: snape

—

peter: ugh i hate it when u dont like earl grey tea

—

dorcas when she met the skittles: i havent had friends my whole life so why should i start now

(can also go as remus when he met the marauders)

—

marlene dunking james' head in the sink: in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit ur cured! u no longer need glasses

—

james comes back from winter break and his voice has dropped: hi

mary: WHEN DID THAT COME IN??? YESTERDAY????

lily: laughing her ass off in the background

—

sirius: omg its so tiny

lily: js like urs

—

barty: *in an american accent, doing italian hand gestures* papa pizza

—

regulus: blink thrice if u need assistance

[anxiousthoughts365]

Friendship

Disabled Remus, language, Snape bashing

'Fuck off, Snape.'

'It's a simple enough question, Potter,' Snape drawled, jogging to keep pace with James, who was stomping down corridor after corridor in an effort to get rid of the boy. 'Why would Regulus come to you, of all people, when he was so clearly distraught when his own brother did just that two years ago? Rather suspicious, don't you agree?'

James clenched his teeth against the retort that tried to claw it's way out of his throat. Snape had been following him since he'd somehow let slip about Regulus coming to live with them over the past summer, determined to find out why Regulus had chosen James as his refuge. But his and Regulus' relationship wasn't common knowledge, and there was nothing he could say that wouldn't give Snape some sort of fodder, so he was doing his best to just stay quiet.

James still couldn't quite remember how Snape had gotten him talking about the younger Black brother while they'd been forced into a partnership in Potions class, but of course Snape had latched onto the tiny tidbit of information and was running with it.

He'd calmly told the Slytherin, more than once, that it wasn't his story to tell. But the slimy boy just would not let the matter drop, and he was really starting to piss James off. The only thing keeping him from punching Snape in the mouth was that Remus, Sirius and Peter were right behind him, and the knowledge helped him to keep his cool. Almost.

'Unless, of course,' Snape sneered, relentless as ever when it came to riling James Potter. 'There's reason why he might run into the arms of someone that his family hates? Unless there's some deeper connection here, something that the young Black might not want everyone to see?'

'I said fuck off, Snivellus!' James snapped, his heart racing with sudden fear at the insinuation. One more taunt, and Merlin help him, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

'Oh, that's it, isn't it?' Snape gasped, pressing one hand over his heart in mock surprise while his thin lips turned up in a sly smirk. 'Regulus Black, the second sibling in this school to desert the Noble House of Black, goes running at the first sign of danger, and runs right into the arms of his big strong saviour and -'

Snape's words were suddenly cut off by a sharp screech, and James' head snapped up to see the boy falling face-first down the set of stairs to their left. He gaped, looking around him to try and figure out what had happened, and turned just in time to watch Sirius wrap an arm around Remus' waist as the tall boy wobbled. It wasn't until the end of his friend's cane connected with the floor again that James understood what had happened.

'Vile little cockroach,' Remus growled, his amber eyes narrowed and his scarred nose scrunched up in distaste as he watched Snape bounce down step after step, whining all the way. James felt something tighten in his chest, gratitude and admiration welling inside him.

'Moony,' he breathed. 'Did you just -'

'He did,' Sirius interrupted, sounding just as awed as James felt. Remus looked up again at his boyfriend's voice, and seemed surprised to find the others staring at him with such evident worship. Then Sirius was stepping in close, wrapping his other arm around Remus and gazing at him as he added, 'That was bloody brilliant, Moons. Merlin, I love you. So fucking much. I -'

'Yes, yes, we all love Remus,' Peter hissed, grabbing Sirius' collar and dragging him backwards, in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. 'You can give our comrade his well-deserved reward later - preferably when I'm asleep and oblivious - but right now, we need to be very much not here.'

Sirius seemed about to protest, but at that moment Snape landed in a noisy heap at the bottom of the stairs, and the four boys made quick use of their extensive knowledge of Hogwarts' secret passageways to disappear.

[notenoughdramaaa]

Okay, this is probably the gayest post I’ve ever made (and that’s saying something, considering I write cheesy fanfics) but I need to stand up and bring some justice to my bro Sirius Black. There’s an overwhelming number of posts on Tumblr, not to mention fanart, that give a very feminine interpretation of Sirius, and I’m over it.

Everywhere I look, I see posts about Remus loving these overly feminine traits in Sirius. I’m done with it. Sirius is not a girl, and he doesn’t have wide hips and a tiny waist. I don’t care how much you want a petite Sirius Black with a huge ass and a tiny waist it just doesn’t work. It’s unrealistic!

If you want to write or draw a trans Regulus Black like that, fine, but not a cis Sirius. It’s just not how biology works

So, let’s take a moment to appreciate the actual male anatomy and all the features Sirius Black would have that are 100% worthy of worship by Remus Lupin.

- Apollo’s Belt (Adonis Belt): Those V-lines, sharp and defined, even though Sirius isn’t a gym guy he's got those. Remus can’t help but stare when Sirius takes his shirt off it's distracting and unfair.

- Broad Shoulders: The kind of shoulders that make his shirts fit perfectly and give him that natural confidence. Remus probably loves leaning his head there after a long day.

- Throat: The way Sirius swallows or tilts his head is straight-up sinful. Remus definitely thinks it’s too erotic to be allowed.

- Hands: Calloused yet elegant, strong fingers with faint scars from Quidditch and dueling. You know Remus is obsessed with the way they feel, whether holding a book or trailing along his skin.

- Jawline: Sharp and angled, perfect for kisses, scruff, and maybe a little biting. Let’s be honest, Remus would probably map it out a hundred times over.

- Chest: Slightly scarred, maybe a bit freckled, and absolutely mesmerizing when Sirius runs his hand through his hair and stretches.

- Lips: Chapped from the cold but always tugging into that signature smirk. They're squarish looking and Remus would kiss them just to shut him up.

- Back: Broad and strong, with a natural curve that makes it perfect for Remus’s hands.

- Voice: A bit raspy and although not technically a “body part,” Remus definitely finds it worship-worthy.

Let’s stop pretending Sirius is some skinny, dainty waif and embrace the fact that he’s a man with a man’s body, and Remus Lupin would absolutely be obsessed with every part of it. Justice for Sirius!

[hyacinthstars]

unpopular opinion, no i don't care if you feel targeted, this is a continuous thing I've found in fandom spaces so I'm going to yap now ok

it is very very very very very weird to me how yall are creating mlm ships and then forcing them to fit the exact same stereotypical norms of a hetero relationship.

it is very very very very very weird how we constantly have to make one character feminine while the other is masculine and "strong".

why is it!! that regulus is so often depicted as a helpless small child? yall are forgetting that he stole a locket from voldemort at literally 17 years old he is THE OG GIRLBOSS!! he did that shit!!!!! he was smart enough to figure it out!!

why are we dumbing him down!!

"oh but nidhi a character doesn't have to be physically strong to be strong" yall know damn well that's not happening here.

and yes the recent fanart discourse is what prompted me to make this post, but YEAH it is weird how yall force mlm relationships into the same box again and again and again.

drarry, Draco is the UwU helpless baby

wolfstar, its Sirius

jegulus, ITS REGULUS.

"men can be short or tall" why is it that in every mlm ship one character has to be short and tiny and petite and a baby while the other is a gymbros i don't get it!!!!!!!!!!

Height differences are cute and lovely and whatever but?? yall cannot tell me you aren't using them to enforce hetero relationship standards onto mlm ships AND IT IS HARMFUL!!!

IT I S FETISHISATION

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

The cure t state of this fandom (*cough cough, post atyd) makes me sad and this fandom mainly doesnt vring me joy anymore (except for ur blog) now the only thing that makes me stay or interact is regulus being a loser truthers, Sirius black in general (canon nor fanon) and my newest obsession: Fem! Marauders (like whole genderbend of everyone!!!) Do u have any hcs?? My personal faves are short haired Sirius, crazy long hair remus, fem jock James (like playing sports in mini skirts and stuff), peter in cute floral cardigans that she crocheted, transfem regulus (who's sirius's loser little sister) maxi skirt goth sev and sm more!!!! Uf love to hear your ideas ♡

HELP yes yes yes anon ily these are ? so cute ? i love this sm !!! dream ask. um the before is all very very true too like FUCK FANON & loser regulus is the only regulus

fem sirius my bbygirl i LOVE HER !!!! yes yes yes but (much like male sirius) i hc her to have super long hair (hip length) till like she runs away and is at james' place where she gets a buzzcut (mommy issues) and like yes. she keeps it super cropped and CLOTHES !!! she has all clothes . she will show up to get coffee with you in a floor length gown. "i had it lying around :/". babe how do simply you have that lying around. but like grr i do love her in formal wear, not a lot of revealing clothing but like very hot yk. im thinking lots of purples. dark dark purples that almost look like black. also im getting a strong vivienne westwood vibe. oh and jewellery !!! silver girly (obv). statement rings !!!!! she's also very pierced like full ears lip eyebrow nose or septum idk naval maybe nipples when shes older . as for make up its like. dark lipstick w nothing else or dark eye make up w nothing else. i cant decide. 2492 tattoos.

REMUS !!! LUPIN !!! IS !!! WHIMSIGOTH !!! but not purples and blacks. greens and browns. brown leather shoes . long long skirts. she has a skirt collection. its insane. it would be a rare sight to see her in a pants. lots of layering, too !!! she runs cold and will wear 3 shirts and 3 skirts . they all look ugly but once she puts them on its gorgeous. ALSO JEWELLERY !!!!!!!!!!!! she has so much jewelry. accessories in general. she is knee deep in poverty and it because she has 4927 belts and bags and necklaces and rings and bracelets and earrings and body jewelry. not any piercings except her basic ear piercing, though. (shes scared of needles). ALSO HER W CRAZY LONG HAIR ?? yum. delicious. she has like curly hair (2b/2c) and its frizzy because she never takes care of it and its REALLY long like goes to her waist and to her knees when straightened and its like freaky. she doesnt like straightening her hair because she likes the crazy witch look. i love this. also she has moles. idk if male remus does but female remus lupin does and i know this because i kiss them every night before i go to bed.

fem jock james fem jock james fem jock james. shed bedazzle her quidditch jerseys (her mom would) (she can't sow) and wear tiny shorts for reasons that are Definitely Not Slutty. also !! she wears sarees . all the time. and you can see her abs and her BICEPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and she has like short curly hair and wears big winged eyeliner and LOVES highlighter like she is SHINING !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nude lipsticks w brown lipliner and KOHL !!! and male james has this too but important to mention dimples!! oh and piercings. a few on her ears (her first non-lobe one was in solidarity with sirius since sirius was doing it at james' place and was scared, but after they fucked around a little james really wanted a few more !!!) and a nose piercing . maybe a naval piercing once she's out of hogwarts. and ACNE SCARS AHHHH JAMES POTTERS ACNE SCARS IM GAY . also she also dresses like a homeless man. as in shell come in one day with a cute pink saree and her make up done and the next day in clothes that look like they belong to hagrid (size wise) or a raccoon (aesthetic wise). and um she may have a lot of clothes but what youll find her in most often is sweatpants and a SLUTTY tank top. (and spiderman sandals)

peter is fluctuates between romantic goth and cottage core. what unites her? corsets. she wears corsets. she will wear them 24/7 if she could (remus reminds her to not wear them too long!). she loves dramatic sleeves and hair accessories. im thinking mid-backish but she she curls them often so they sit a bit below her shoulders. hair accessories shes a sucker for flowers, dried or fresh depending on the aesthetic. also !! flared jeans. made for her. flared jeans with embroidery and she has all her friends' initials or like a moon and antlers and a paw print yk for her girlss !! ALSO very good at make up. eye make up in particular. she taught sirius how to do her make up and before peter got into goth culture herself shed dress sirius up ("i am not your dress up doll!" "but youre pretty like one" "STOP TRYING TO WOO ME!!!!"). fake freckles because hers fade in the winter. bangs era never faded.

LOSER REGULUS YUMMY. copied every single outfit sirius wore for like YEARS till sirius screamed and cried and hit her. parents thought her want to wear feminine clothing was because she wanted to be like her sister. shes also very formal but, like, less slutty form fitting clothes + no piercings. make up is always immaculate. still steals sirius' clothes but is more subtle about it. screams when there is one (1) possibility that she may get a stain on her. hair is almost always up in a lose bun w some face framing. mascara blindness lowkey.

you raise me goth severus i raise you specifically 1920s inspired goth severus. pin straight hair that falls over her shoulders (does not grow further no matter what she does) (though honestly she hasnt done much). wears only black (shes dedicated). flapper dresses but to her ankles. flats or t-shaped heels. is naturally pale and makes herself lighter with make up so her black black lipstick stands out. she has naturally thin lips so she tries overlining for a while (epic fail!!). her eye make up is never as intricate as she hopes but then she finds out the beauty of VIELS and wears one always. lace headpieces she spends hours on, learning from her mother or lily, and shes so fucking proud of them yk. very intricate beading on her dresses!!! she does half them herself, she guys her dresses matt and makes cool designs on them (or at least she plans to, most of them ending up resembling lilies). long gloves !!! her hands are fucked from her potion work and writing and she adores long gloves.

i love these sm please 29484 more fun asks

[itsjaywalkers]

a lil smth under the cut for u guys (part 3) <3

(light nsfw)

part 1 part 2

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it’s decent enough, so it’ll have to do,” James says, and Regulus it’s too busy trying to keep his breathing under control to be bothered by the other man’s words. “Relax your shoulders a little, love.” 

“Don’t,” Regulus hisses, even though he isn’t sure himself if that response is because of the nickname, or James’ touch, or James’ closeness, or something else entirely. 

“Don’t what?” James asks, sneaking a hand up and massaging one of his shoulders until both of them sag. 

“You know what.” 

“I don’t even think you know.” 

Regulus huffs loudly, and hates that he can’t argue back. 

“Show me how you do a jab,” James requests, his hands returning to Regulus’ waist after one last press on his shoulder. 

Regulus clears his throat slightly, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden while he raises his right arm and gets ready to do what James asked. He only hesitates for a couple of seconds before doing the punch, not as confident as he’d usually be after having James criticise him so much. 

He knows he’s no expert. He isn’t even that athletic to begin with. But he still has a boxer brother, which means he’s definitely not as clueless as James is making him out to be. 

Maybe if it were someone else, Regulus would find it in himself to fight back, defend his knowledge and Sirius’ teachings. But, as it turns out, having a professional boxer watching you try to punch is an incredibly humbling experience. Especially one as mind-blowingly good as James. 

Not like Regulus would ever tell him that.

James hums. “Not bad,” he says, and really, it shouldn’t satisfy Regulus as much as it does. “It’s a bit too slow, though.” 

Regulus tilts his head back, in an attempt to look at the other man, but he barely lasts a second after realising how fucking close both of his faces are. 

His heart beats wildly in his chest. He can only hope James doesn’t notice. 

“How so?” Regulus wonders, so relieved to hear his voice sounds completely normal. 

“Jabs focus on speed over strength,” James explains calmly. “It’s a matter of overwhelming your opponent, rather than properly hurting. The punch has to be quick, and once the arm returns, it’s gotta go up, protect your face. Like this.”

He grabs one of Regulus’ arms gently, moving it forward and then back very slowly, to demonstrate how to do it, and then fast, jostling Regulus’ whole body with it. 

“See?” James murmurs, and he could swear that his tone has gone lower. “You don’t have to worry about being strong enough. It’s all about speed.”

“Okay,” Regulus replies with a tiny nod, doing his best to concentrate on what James is seeing, and not on all of the points where they’re touching. Or on how close James is. Or how nice he smells, despite all the sweat—maybe even because of it. “I think I get it.” 

“Yeah? Wanna try again on your own?”

Part of Regulus wants to snark back, argue that it’s only a stupid jab and James is just being picky because he’s a professional boxer and it’s not like there’s an actual science to throwing a punch. But having James holding onto his waist must be clouding his mind, because he just gives another nod, and does his best to replicate James’ movement and speed. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” James breathes out, and Regulus can almost hear his smile. “Very good, love. You’re a natural.”

“Oh, I’m a natural now?” Regulus huffs out, but it comes out more teasing than irritated. 

“Or maybe you just have a great teacher,” James adds playfully, accompanied by a squeeze on his hips. 

“You’re right, Sirius is pretty great,” Regulus responds with a shrug, relishing in the way James clicks his tongue. 

“But I’m better.”

“In your dreams, Potter.”

“Wait, what happened to ‘James’?”

Regulus feels heat rushing to his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

James chuckles way too close to Regulus’ ear, and his breath hits the side of his neck, goosebumps breaking all over his skin. Regulus has to swallow a very embarrassing and very needy sound before it makes it past his lips.

“C’mon, love, we were getting along so nicely. Don’t try to ruin it now.”

“You’ve finally lost it,” Regulus states, trying to laugh the whole thing off. It probably doesn’t work, though, considering how unstable he sounds. “There’s not a single universe in which you and I get along, Potter.”

“Liar,” James whispers. “I’m growing on you.”

“Whatever gave me away?” Regulus grumbles, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“The fact that you’re letting me touch you,” James murmurs, voice smooth and silky, feeling like a caress. “How you keep leaning against my contact, and catching yourself at the last second.”

Regulus’ breath hitches. “That’s—” 

“The way you’re not even arguing with me anymore. Not really,” James continues, unrelenting, his lips grazing Regulus’ earlobe and making his eyes flutter shut. “If anything, I’d even dare to say you’re flirting.”

“You’re delusional,” Regulus spits, too breathless to sound as furious as he’d like to. “The fucking audacity—”

“And,” James cuts him off, tone so frustratingly smug, “I bet you’re aching between those pretty legs of yours.” 

Regulus lets out an embarrassed noise, barely suppressing the urge to press his thighs together. 

“No,” he croaks out, shaking his head a little and face burning. 

“No?” James mocks him, pressing his smirk behind Regulus’ ear. “Shall we check?” 

One of James’ hands moves slowly, sliding from its place on Regulus’ waist to rest under his navel, fingers playfully caressing his waistband. 

Regulus hates how that mere touch is enough to turn his mind into static. To make his heart stutter in his chest, and the mess in his underwear almost unbearable.

“Potter—”

“No.”

Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up, and before he has the chance to ask, he feels James’ teeth at the side of his neck, nipping teasingly and dragging a fucking whimper out of him.

“What—?!” he begins, completely red in the face and attempting to move away from the other man for the first time since he allowed his touch.

James holds him tighter, bites down harder. “Behave, Regulus, or I’ll fucking make you.” 

Regulus doesn’t listen, despite how the tone of James’ voice makes him tremble like a leaf. He keeps resisting, an outraged sound leaving his mouth while his body betrays him and becomes even wetter. 

“Oh, you don’t get to play the clueless card on me,” James murmurs, his teeth giving way to a devilish tongue that turns Regulus soft and pliant, his attempts at freeing himself growing sloppy, lazy. “I always do my best to be patient, to respect your boundaries and control myself, but you’ve been a damn tease all afternoon, and I’m fucking done.” 

“What the fuck are you even—” 

“Enough,” James growls back, and it’s so commanding Regulus’ mouth snaps shut with a clack. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then James is laughing under his breath. “Good boy.”

It’s filled with mockery, bordering on mean, and yet, it still makes Regulus moan like a fucking bitch in heat, eyes rolling to the back of his skull and body going completely boneless. 

“Fuck,” James whispers, a mix between awed and devastated. “I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known. Is that what does it for you, baby? You wanna be my good boy?”

Baby. 

Baby. 

Baby. 

Regulus moans again, even though it’s weaker this time, but he still shakes his head, or tries to at least, holding onto the last traces of sanity and refusing to let James win whatever twisted game they’re playing. 

“C’mon, you were doing so well,” James mumbles, tongue licking up the side of his neck. “And you can’t fool me anymore. Not like you ever did, but still. I know you wanna be good for me, baby. Know you wanna please me, let me use you in whatever way I see fit.”

He tries to shake his head once more, but somehow, his brain gets the order wrong and Regulus ends up nodding instead. 

“That’s right,” James coos, dropping a kiss on his skin, long and lingering. “Now, say my name, Regulus.” 

“James,” he gasps almost against his will, mouth moving before his mind can catch up. 

The other man groans and then attaches his lips to his throat immediately after, tongue pressing down as he sucks, the sting feeling absolutely heavenly. 

Regulus tilts his head to the side to give James more space, eyes hooded and limbs heavy, back coming to rest against James’ chest. 

“James,” he says again, without being prompted this time and the word almost sounding like a whine. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” James hisses against his neck, peppering the skin with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue and teeth mapping out Regulus’ skin. “You don’t understand how long I’ve been dying to do this.”

Regulus whimpers, hands moving on their own volition and reaching behind him until they bury themselves into James’ messy locks. He pulls, a bit harsher than intended, but before Regulus can manage to apologise, James is moaning loudly, the vibrations on his skin making him shiver. 

He pulls again, and James bites down on his throat hard enough to leave a mark. Regulus doesn’t have it in himself to reprimand him, or to tell him to stop. His brain is unable to focus on anything that isn’t James’ mouth working down his neck. 

“We could’ve been doing this ages ago if you weren’t so fucking stubborn,” James sighs, lips caressing his exposed shoulder and dragging another obscene noise out of Regulus. “I knew you wanted it. I knew you wanted me.”

“James—” Regulus pants, apparently unable to speak anything else apart from the other man’s name. 

It’s kind of embarrassing, how pliant a couple of kisses and a few dirty comments can make him. Regulus isn’t usually this easy, especially not in bed; he likes having a modicum of control, always ready to remind his partner that he doesn’t enjoy being bossed around. But, and as much as he hates to admit it, James knows what he’s doing. 

Although, maybe it’s not even a matter of skills. Maybe it’s simply that it’s James, and despite how much he’s tried to deny it, he’s been desperate for him almost since the moment he laid eyes on him. 

“God, baby, you taste divine,” James grunts, sucking on his collarbone almost at the same time that his fingers dip into Regulus’ waistband. They don’t get very far, and it’s more of a playful contact than anything else, but his breath still hitches. “Can’t wait to put my mouth between your legs.”

Regulus makes a keening sound, hips twitching, and James chuckles cruelly against his shoulder.

“You’d let me, right, baby?” James goes on, the hand that had slipped inside the basketball shorts changing its course and travelling up up up, until they’re caressing Regulus’ chest, following the shape of his scars. “There’s no point in pretending you’re not fucking gagging for it at this point. Just look at you. Look at you. I bet you could come from this. From me marking you up while I whisper in your ear.”

“N-no,” Regulus huffs, blinking furiously and doing his best to break out of his daze. “You’re too—too full of yourself. This isn’t enough, it could never be, and I—”

“Not enough?” James questions, stopping his ministrations. Regulus bites his tongue to stop the protest at the tip of his tongue. “Is this your way of asking for more, baby? Because you’re gonna have to do better than that. I don’t listen to brats.” 

Regulus wishes he could scoff, elbow James in the stomach so his touches stop clouding his mind and tell him to fuck off. Maybe even show him how well he can throw a stupid punch. 

But his body isn’t listening to his mind. It doesn’t care about what Regulus truly wants. Or what he’s been telling himself he wants, at least.

That’s why when he parts his lips, none of the curses he’s been preparing come out. Instead, there’s only need and lust. “Please,” he whimpers, closing his eyes tight momentarily. “Please, James, I—I just—”

James shushes him gently while circling a nipple, Regulus’ toes curling inside his toes and cunt clenching around nothing. “Oh, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you so well. Give you exactly what you need.”

“Yeah,” Regulus exhales, hands spasming around James’ curls. “Please.” 

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby? Let me finger you nice and open, so you can get ready for my cock?” 

Regulus moans and nods and thrashes around, one of his hands slipping from James’ hair just so he can grab one of James' by its wrist, pushing his arm downwards and hoping to get some relief where he truly needs it. 

James stops right before he reaches his waistband, a cocky grin curving against Regulus’ skin. 

“Well, well,” James breathes. “Aren’t you a needy little thing.” 

“C’mon,” Regulus complains, uncaring of how childish he sounds. He feels too fucking drunk on everything James to be able to think about anything else apart from getting off.

James laughs again, because he’s mean like that, and Regulus can already feel some tears prickling at his eyes out of frustration.

“You have to tell me what you want, Regulus,” James says, and his voice is so damn casual it actually hurts. “This won’t work otherwise.” 

There’s no this, Regulus wants to snap back, but then James is pressing nearer, until Regulus can feel the outline of his hard cock against his ass. It makes him gasp and push back against it, really pleased by the little hiss James lets out at the pressure.

“See what you do to me, baby?” James whispers, dragging his lips over his shoulders, the side of his throat, behind his ear. “We barely did anything, and yet I’m so fucking hard it’s actually painful. You’ve no idea of how many times I’ve jerked myself off to the thought of you. Wishing it was your hand instead. Your mouth. The inside of your cunt.” 

Regulus’ knees shake, a mewl escaping his parted lips, and James’ grip on him turns even stronger. 

“I bet you’ll feel all tight and warm around me,” James goes on, tone husky, words dripping with so much desire it makes Regulus light-headed. “Make the sweetest sounds, too. I used to think you were too uptight and that I needed to fuck the stubborness out of you, but it turns out that you’re real fucking dirty, baby. Grinding back against my cock and opening your legs the moment I praised you a little. Oh, if they could see you now, baby. Big bad scary Regulus Black. Reduced to a pathetic, whimpering mess.”

“Shut up,” Regulus grits out, but he doesn’t stop rubbing his ass on James’ cock, or pulling at James’ wrist insistently, in an attempt to get his hand inside his pants. “You’re all bark and no bite. Spent all these months telling me everything you wanted to do to me, and now that I finally give you a chance, you’re only teasing and babbling in my ear.” 

“Good try, baby, but you should know by now that that attitude of yours only turns me on.” 

“Yeah? Then how come you’re not fucking me yet, huh?” 

James’ other hand, the one that hasn’t stopped gripping Regulus’ waist for a single second, lets go and climbs up, taking a hold of Regulus’ chin. James uses it to tilt his head back, forcing their gazes to meet, and Regulus despises how he feels himself get slicker at the flash of danger on James’ gaze, the sharpness of his smirk. 

“God, the mouth you have on you, baby.” James cocks his head to the side, considering, and he grips his chin even tighter. “So fucking filthy. And so pretty when you beg.” 

“I don’t beg,” Regulus murmurs back, aware that it’s a lie. He still narrows his eyes when James barks out a laugh. 

“Yes, you do. You already have. And you will do so again, if you want to come.” 

“I don’t need you for that. I can just—just walk out of here, leave you hanging and get off all by myself—”

“No, you can’t. I’m sure you’ve also jerked off while thinking of me, right, baby? All that tension, all that repression, I know it took its toll. Did you finger yourself slow and deep as soon as you got home after our interviews? Came with my name in your mouth?”

Regulus only glares at him, not even trying to defend himself. What’s the point, when James can see right through him? Lying won’t do him any favours. 

“You did,” James states, ridiculously pleased with himself. “You’re not gonna go and waste this chance over your wounded pride, baby. Argue all you want, but we both know you’re not going anywhere. Not when you’re practically drooling at the thought of taking my cock.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it as much, if not more, than I do,” Regulus grumbles. 

James shrugs, leaning forward and forcing Regulus to do the same. Until their noses are grazing each other, breaths intermingling. 

“Never said otherwise,” he retorts with ease. 

“Then what the fuck are you playing at?”

“Nothing, really. Just waiting for you to tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, baby, I swear. You just gotta ask.” 

Regulus purses his lips, but James does sound sincere, and at this point, it’s not like he has anything else to lose. It’s too late to try and save face, and his dignity, or whatever was left of it, took its leave the moment he allowed James to get this close. 

Besides, he wants this. He wants James. Has done so for a while, probably since the very beginning, and not even he has this much self-restraint.

“Fuck me,” Regulus says in a soft exhale, watching the way James’ pupils eat at his irises. “Please, James, fuck me. I need you inside me, it’s—fucking unbearable, really, and I’m gonna lose it if you don’t—”

“Yes,” James gasps out, nodding fast, moves turning erratic as he finally slips his hand under the shorts, under Regulus’ briefs. “Yes. Of course, baby, anything you want, I’m—shit, you’re so—let me just—”

His fingers rub at his clit playfully, pulling a moan out of Regulus, before they continue their path down, until they’re running through slick curls, teasing at his entrance and marvelling at the wetness they find there. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking dripping,” James whispers in wonder. Regulus can only whimper, pushing against his eager hand. “And it’s for me. All for me. Fucking hell, just—come here—”

It’s when James tilts his head up, clearly wanting to kiss him, that Regulus finally manages to go back to himself. That Regulus remembers where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s doing it with. 

Reality hits him with such harshness that the ground seems to tilt under his feet, leaving him breathless, and dizzy, and having to swallow down a wave of nausea. 

What the actual fuck is wrong with him? 

“Wait,” he squeals, James’ mouth already touching his. “Wait.” 

To the other man’s credit, he does stop immediately at Regulus’ words, pulling back and fingers freezing where they were exploring at his cunt’s entrance. 

Regulus takes a gulp of air, heart rumbling loudly inside his head, his brain screaming at him to get a fucking grip. 

“Reg?” James calls him, a worried frown twisting his features while his eyes roam all over his face. “Baby, you okay?”

“Don’t—” Regulus wheezes out, clawing at James’ arm until he gets the hint and takes it out of his pants. He can’t think with those thick, calloused fingers resting on his cunt. “We can’t do this. It’s—no, James, just—no.”

Something pained flashes in James’ gaze, before it disappears, being substituted by a harshness Regulus has to look away from. “Regulus—”

“No,” he repeats, a lot firmer this time. “I’m not—I can’t, James. I’m sorry, I really am, but I just can’t.”

Regulus doesn’t stick around to hear James’ response, or watch his reaction. He moves away from him, legs shaky but still managing to support his weight, and he exits the ring without daring to glance back.

[r0mantic-f00l]

DAD REGULUS I REPEAT DAD REGULUS ‼️ with any senecio you want just DAD regulus

I fear u have just inspired me to make a series of just dad regulus 😞😞

Meant to Be

Regulus Black is meant to be a father.

You believe that completely whenever you see him interact with your children, that adoring and loving look in his eyes whilst he smiles and laughs. Of course, he smiled and laughed before your children came along, but it became different. His smile turned wider and brighter, and his laugh is louder and more joyful.

He was terrified to become a father, afraid that he wouldn't feel like a parent and there would always be a distance between him and his child because of that.

However, as soon as you gave birth to your first daughter Adelia, he held her in his arms and she wrapped her tiny hand all around his index finger. That's when he knew he would do anything for his little girl, that's when he felt complete.

When you were pregnant with your second daughter Audrea, Regulus would talk to your stomach all the time, speaking about how much he loves her, how much her older sister cannot wait to see her, how much he loves you for not only being his soulmate, but also being the mother of his two children.

He never thought he could have a family, but when he met you, he felt an inkling, he saw a vision of a happy family in his future.

♡

You have just came back into your house after grocery shopping, carrying two bags all the way to your kitchen where you proceed to empty the bags and place all the food in the right places.

Regulus usually helps you, but you assume that he did not hear the front door open and shut, as he is most likely occupied playing with Adelia.

Chatter that contains a squeaky high-pitched voice and a deep cool voice flows into your ears from upstairs, Adelia's bedroom door being open. You smile and walk up the stairs after you finish putting all the groceries away.

Clinking of small tea cups is heard amongst Adelia talking excitedly as you approach her room, only looking in through the sliver of the cracked-open door as to not disturb this precious moment.

"Here's your tea, Daddy." Adelia places the empty tea pot down on the small table, her plastic tiara shifting down her head as she looks down.

Regulus has a pink cape that is way too small for him wrapped around his neck as he wears a matching tiara to his daughter's. He holds the baby Audrea in his lap, holding her up against his torso with one arm wrapped securely around her as he lifts up his empty small tea cup and pretends to sip whatever drink Adelia 'poured' into it.

"Mm, how lovely!" The man takes another sip as if he truly enjoys the 'drink' and places the delicate cup down on the table.

"Thank you, honey."

"You're welcome, Daddy."

"I thought my name was Prince Daddy?"

"Oh yeah! And-and I'm Princess Adelia."

"Of course, my princess." Regulus bows his head, Audrea grabbing onto a long curly strand of his black hair, cooing as she yanks it.

"Ow, okay, okay, sweetie, let go. Let go of Daddy's hair." He gently pulls his hair out of the baby's grasp.

Adelia is pouring tea into hers and Regulus' tea cup once again, taking a sip out of her small porcelain cup and rubbing her stomach as she hums happily.

"No tea for your sister?" Regulus asks.

"No, she doesn't want any."

"How do you know that?"

"She told me."

"Right, so a four month old baby can speak to you."

Adelia crawls to where Regulus is sat on the floor and puts a finger under the baby's mouth, moving it as she speaks.

"'I don't want any tea, Princess Adelia. I don't wike it.'"

The baby laughs as she stares at her older sister.

"Don't do that." Regulus says softly, with an amused smile on his face.

"Sorry Daddy." Adelia chirps happily before crawling back over to her side of the table.

You smile warmly, feeling such love for your wonderful family as you watch the scene in front of you, but you now have the strong urge to join in.

"I think you mean Prince Daddy?" You correct your daughter's little mistake as you step into the room with a grin on your face, Regulus immediately smiling at you as your daughter gasps and stands up to run to you, hugging your legs.

"Mummy, can you join my tea party?" Adelia asks with a hopeful look in her eyes.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, a finger tapping your chin as you glance up at the ceiling.

"Hm, okay then. But as long as I get to be Princess Mummy."

"No, you'll be... you'll be Queen Mummy."

You sit next to your husband on the carpeted floor and kiss Audrea's forehead as she coos.

"Wait, why am I Prince Daddy and she's Queen Mummy? Shouldn't I be a King?" Regulus protests with a frown on his face.

Adelia giggles at his pout and points at her father.

"No, no, you're just a Prince!"

You smirk as Regulus slumps over and shakes his head, yet he still smiles softly.

"Prince Daddy, can you give Queen Mummy your crown?"

"Sure, should I give her my tea cup too?" Regulus mumbles under his breath as he places the plastic tiara on your head instead, the crown wonky in its placement.

"Yes, please." Adelia nods her head, grinning with mischief as Regulus holds his mouth open in faux offense.

"Be nice to your Daddy, he just lost his crown!" You tickle Adelia's side, her laughter making you smile wider.

"Yeah, I think Uncle Sirius has been rubbing off on you too much." Regulus shakes his head as he grins.

The tea party continues until Regulus prepares dinner, the four of you sat around the dining table as you feed Audrea mushed carrots whilst Regulus bribes Adelia with chocolate to eat her broccoli and cauliflower.

The golden sun shines through the windows in the dining room, making your husband's hair glow and the fake ruby in your daughter's crown twinkle.

Regulus laughs as Adelia begins to eat her vegetables with such enthusiasm after he promised her that she can have chocolate cake after dinner, and you feel your heart swarm with love.

Regulus Black is meant to be a father.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

A Complete Unknown Title

apparently

Barbie dolls: musician!Regulus black x musician! Gn! Reader

Word: 3k

Summary: I watched A Complete Unknown and it inspired me so here you go ig you're a musician and you run into another musician

Warnings: probaly a part one out of idk how many but this cracks me up to write ngl, American reader 🙏 or at the least you're living in America for at least four+ years🙏 I'm american so let's be kind I didn't ask for this life, smoking, regulus is kinda Sirius core for a little bit that's okay, take a shot Everytime I say gray, kissing before you know each other's names, you drive a convertible now 🤷 I think they're cool idk, sharing a cigarette, swapping saliva, regulus licks your thumb idk dude roll w it, we don't learn Regulus' name until like the end 🫠, tiny mention of sex, you believe in fate now, reg is kinda a whimpery loser pussy whipped bitch, pussy whipped used gender neutrally of course, yippee

Music has always been your simple escape. The lyrics and tunes came to you easily, spilling out your fingers onto the page and your guitar. Your favorite time of the year was the musical festival. It was so huge that you traveled over state lines just to stand on that stage and share the words and tunes you crafted. You lugged around your suitcase and guitar case for days to get to that mic stand. 

Stages were one of the only places you felt truly comfortable. This stage was different. The wooden floor felt like home. The wings made your shoulders relax. The crowd made you feel complete. The moment you were finally performing at the music festival again you felt every single problem from the year before wash away. Of course, it was your favorite time of year. Everything about it was perfect. 

Until a black-haired, gray-eyed man rode into town on a loud motorcycle. You caught a glimpse of him as you were in town looking through postcards. You liked taking one back home after each festival and adding it to your wall. As you picked up one with a nice cityscape on it, you were startled by the roaring of his motorcycle. 

The card slipped from your hands, floating down to the floor. You scoffed and dipped down, snatching the card up. You stood up, wiping the possible dirt off the card. You glanced out the window, finding the loud culprit. 

You liked to think you had strong and solid opinions, especially with people. You knew you made quick and fast judgments, but you had good cause usually. A loud man on his motorcycle; must certainly be annoying and inconsiderate, therefore unworthy of your time. Unfortunately, this man on a loud motorcycle seemed to be different. You set the card back into its place, moving closer to the window. You were drawn to him without even knowing a lick of anything about him. It was a strange feeling, knowing your feet were moving and you weren't telling them to. 

He was quite alluring apparently. His black curls were styled perfectly, seemingly placed in just the right places. A leather jacket was pulled over his shoulders, making your eyebrow twinge. He had sunglasses on, hiding half his face. The fact you couldn't tell where exactly he was looking somehow made him more interesting. You pulled open the shop door, standing out on the sidewalk to get a better look. 

He was stuck behind a red light and a large group of people walking across the crosswalk. You raised a brow at the guitar case on his back. Maybe he was in town for the festival. You've been going about four years now and never seen him before. Where had he been hiding all these years? 

The man must've felt your eyes on him because he lifted his head in your direction. He paused, staring right back at you. You gestured at your eyes, asking him to take off the glasses. The man smiled just briefly for a second. It was very small and someone who wasn't staring dead at his face, wouldn't have seen it. He pulled down his sunglasses, resting them on the tip of his nose. His eyes were strange. 

They were the color of the sky just as the sun was setting. The cold feeling of the hardwood floors in winter. The metal silverware you used to stir your tea and cut your breakfast. The ringing of a bell above your head dragging you further into a store. The water of a lake lapping at your chin as you watch the sun move closer to the horizon, knowing you'll have to get out soon. All you could do was smile, feeling the soft yet cold gray wrap around you. You didn't know his name or even his favorite food but you wanted to sit across from him and stare into his eyes for the rest of your life. 

Of course, that's a strange thing to say to a stranger so instead you settled for “What's in the case?” Very charming. The man slid his glasses back up, a tiny huff pushing out his nose. He looked up at the light as it changed from red to green. 

“Guitar.” He yelled back. Just like that he started his loud motorcycle again and turned down the road. You watched his jacket flap behind him as he rode off into the distance, the feeling of his eyes slowly retreating from your body. You let out a sigh, wishing there was some way to bottle up the way his eyes made you feel and keep it in a necklace so you'd have access to it at all times. 

You settled down, knowing that was probably the last time you'll ever see him. Your focus was back on the music festival. You were used to the whole thing, it felt like a second home at this point. Your shoes were kicked off with your jacket, thrown on the same table you have your years. The little table served you well, It held up your jacket and guitar case, waited patiently for your return, and hid your shoes underneath it.

You waited in the wing, your guitar on your back. You smiled and clapped as another artist left the stage. You liked his songs they made your foot tap. He waved goodbye to the stage. The act before yours stepped up to the microphone, greeting the crowd. You anxiously fiddled with your guitar strap. You pretended like you were paying attention to the lyrics, nodding your head along. You knew the singer or bands behind you were probably glancing at you every now and then. You knew most of them, or at least met some of them. Usually, the people who played last year were playing the next year with a few new faces. Though it was usually a handful of new faces out of armfuls of known faces. You liked it that way. 

Boots thunked on the wooden floor, skipping ahead of the line. You ignored it. They were probably stuck in the bathroom, the lines were awful. You continued to nod to the music, your hands still twisting your guitar strap. The boots stomped next to you, the toe-tapping steadily now. You paused, glancing at the person from the corner of your eye. Black curls and a leather jacket.

You turned your head to fully look at him. The motorcycle man was next to you. He turned his head, facing you. His lips twitched, the tiniest smile you’ve ever seen. He pulled his sunglasses off, hooking them into his button-up shirt. You felt the soft and cold gray wrap itself around your skin again. You felt your lips rebel against you and turn up into a smile. He pointed down at the guitar resting against his body. You nodded, evidently, it was a guitar in his case. 

The singer stepped away from the microphone, earning cheers and claps. You raised your hands, clapping along. The man next to you clapped, keeping his eyes on you. You didn’t turn your head at all, staring into the man’s eyes. 

“You’re up next. Break a leg.” The singer muttered as they walked past you. You sent them a smile, recognizing them as someone you shared lunch with last festival. You swung your guitar around and headed for the microphone stand. Cheers met your arrival. You waved, leaning towards the microphone. 

You easily moved through the small set of songs you planned. The crowd was lovely as always. The stage comforted you as you floated through your songs. You could never bite down the smile that came with performing. You loved sharing your music, it made your soul swirl and dance. You watched the faces of the crowd, a soft sway moving through them. A smile etched itself on many faces, each one different. One woman was missing a tooth, one man had dimples, and a young couple was dancing together both of whom had similar smiles.

Yet with all those teeth shining bright at you, your thoughts wandered to one particular smile. You turned your head, finding the gray eyes already waiting for you. His lips were turned up, a smile just a smidgen brighter than it was before. Your grin grew, your head turning back to the crowd. 

As you wrapped up your final song, you thanked the crowd, blowing a kiss to them all. You headed back towards the wing and swung your guitar back around. You stood next to the motorcycle man. He watched you as you did so. 

“Stick around for my songs?” He asked, pulling his glasses from his shirt. You gave him a one-shouldered shrug. 

“I suppose.” You responded, watching him as he started towards the microphone. He pushed his sunglasses up his nose, greeting the crowd with a simple hello. 

You’d heard plenty of music before, plenty of lyrics, plenty of tunes, and plenty of artists. He was different. Something about him and his music made you want to cry and curl into a ball and dance on your way down to the floor. You might even push it to say you loved it. He finished his set, leaving the crowd stunned. He headed back towards you, standing in front of you. He pulled his glasses off, raising a brow at you. You hummed. 

“I like it. A lot. It’s…” You paused, staring at him like the answer would come from his features. He tilted his head to the side, waiting. The next band’s shoes clomped past you. You felt a rather devious grin meet your face. Your smile unsettled him, the question of what was entertaining you so bugged him. Your hand slipped up to the back of his neck, tugging him towards you. The tips of your noses brushed. His smile quirked up, tilting his head to the side for you. His lips were a breath away from yours. You leaned forward, finally pressing your lips to his. 

You pictured the remnants of your songs still glossing your lips. His lyrics swirled with yours, a whole new feeling sprouting between the two of you. His hand reached out for you, gripping onto your shirt. His guitar was trapped between the two of you, leaving you feeling unsatisfied. You pulled away from him, your hand slipping from his nape and dropping to the neck of his guitar. 

“Didn’t realize my songs were that good.” He muttered. You hummed, turning away from him. You headed towards the back of the stage, right for your little table. The man called out to you. 

“Wait! Do I even get your name?” He asked, jogging after you. You didn’t bother glancing over your shoulder, continuing on your way. 

“Maybe later.” You said, turning the corner. The sounds of his boots stalled, staying somewhere near the stage wings. You collected your things, loaded yourself back into your car, and headed into town for lunch. 

You didn’t run into him again until the next afternoon. You packed light yet you still needed to take a second trip to your room for your guitar. As you reached your convertible again you saw The Man leaning against the driver's door, a cigarette pressed between his lips. Your eyes rolled as a smile reached your lips. You pulled your guitar case closer to you. 

“What’s in the case?” He asked, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. His head turned with you as you walked past him to the trunk of your car. You almost laughed. Almost. 

“Guitar.” You responded, setting your case into your trunk. The Man pushed himself off your car, joining you at your side. You slammed the trunk shut,  leaning on it to watch him. He stood in front of you, flicking the cigarette off to the side.

His shades were still on, you wondered if he slept with them on. You reached forward and dragged them off his face. You pushed them up onto your nose.  You glanced around, adjusting to the dimmer world. You looked at him, missing the gray of his eyes already. You plucked the glasses off, hooking them in your shirt like he had before. You looked up at his eyes again, finding the proper gray again. You muttered your name. His eyebrow raised, swallowing the grin spreading on his face. 

“Regulus.” He said, pulling in a breath of smoke. Regulus. Regulus. Regulus. Regulus. Regulus. You pictured it in your head over and over until it was burned into your skull in the same gray as his eyes. 

“I like it.” You answered. You reached forward and plucked the cigarette from his mouth. He tilted his head back, blowing the smoke over his head in a plume. Regulus looked back at you. You held his eyes with yours as you pressed the cigarette to your lips, inhaling deeply. His eyes dipped to the cigarette, staying with your lips as you moved the cigarette from your mouth. Regulus watched the smoke slip from your mouth, spreading out around the both of you. You held the cigarette up to his mouth, butt first. Regulus leaned forward, capturing the cig from your fingers with his lips. You ignored the smile that sprouted from his lips brushing against your finger. He held the cigarette, letting you drop your hand. Regulus pulled it from his mouth, huffing out. 

“How much do you like it? As much as my songs?” Regulus asked, his lips tugging at the memory. You hummed and let his question simmer. More than his songs, you decided. More than kiss-worthy, pantless worthy.

”No.” You turned away from him, slipping out from between him and your trunk. Regulus snorted, following after you. You swung open the driver's door, settling into your car. The top was down so getting in the car didn’t exactly put a barrier between you and Regulus. Not that you minded much. Regulus leaned down, resting his arms on the edge of your door. You looked up at him. 

“Where do you live?  In case I want to take a visit to that town for no particular reason.” Regulus asked, holding the cigarette out and away from your car. You shrugged. You reached out and held the side of his face, running your thumb under his eye. 

“I believe in fate. I didn’t tell you which hotel I was staying at, or when I was leaving, but here you are. I-“ 

“I was perched next to my window all day, watching for any glimpse of you,” Regulus muttered. You shrugged. 

“I think, if we’re meant to be, you’ll find me again. Of course, if you can’t in the next year, we have the festival.” You said, tugging at a curl by his ear. It bounced back into place, making you smile. Regulus hung his head, sighing. He looked up at you through his hair, rather pathetically hot you think. 

“I’m not sure if a year without talking to you won’t drive me mad,” Regulus whispered. You laughed at that. The preposterous claim was rather funny. Regulus hadn’t heard your laugh ever in his entire life, now that he has he’s not entirely certain that he won’t go through withdrawals without it. He lurched forward and pressed his nose into the skin of your cheek. He tilted his head up, pressing a lazy kiss to your cheek.

“Don’t go just yet. Let me take you to dinner, or at least tell me what state you live in.” Regulus muttered into your skin. He pulled away as you turned your head. You shook your head and wanted to chuckle at him again. 

“Regulus you’ve lived your entire life without ever knowing me. You just learned my name about five minutes ago. I’m sure you can go a year without me.” You said, turning your key to start your car. Regulus frowned. He stared at you with his damned gray eyes. 

“A kiss for the road?” He pleaded. You hummed, shrugging. You turned to face him pulling him down by his neck again. Your first kiss there was a guitar in your way. Your second kiss there was a car door in the way. You liked this one a little more. Regulus was making this one last. The moment he felt your lips on his, he was lurching forward and moving his lips with yours. His hand held your cheek, keeping you steady. You let your hand rest on his neck, fingers venturing towards his hair. Your other hand waited on the steering wheel. Your hand traveled to his chin. You pressed your thumb into it as your tongue swiped across his bottom lip. Regulus opened his mouth instantaneously for you, meeting his tongue with yours. He sighed, leaning further over the car door.

You pulled back, lips quirking at the groan Regulus made. You wiped at your lips with your thumb before reaching forward and pressing it to Regulus’ lips. His tongue darted out, swiping over your fingerprint. You sighed and sat forward again, settling both hands on the steering wheel. You pulled his sunglasses from your shirt, pushing them onto your face. 

“You don’t mind me borrowing these do you, Regulus?” You looked at him, watching him shake his head as your hand set your car into reverse. 

“Not at all. I can get new ones.” Regulus muttered, pulling the cigarette to his mouth. You nodded. 

“Thought so. I’ll wear them on my next album cover, so you know I’m thinking of you.” You said, raising a brow at him. Regulus smiled, stepping away from your car. 

“You’ll know when I’m thinking of you. Hear it in the wind or something else poetic.” Regulus shouted, watching you slowly pull out from the parking lot. You hooked your finger in the corner of the glasses, looking at him over the edge. 

“I’m sure I will, Regulus.” You said, sliding into traffic. Regulus watched you from the parking lot as your car drove away from him, the kisses, the festival, the town, and the state. Regulus wasn’t sure if one kiss could hold him over for 12 months. He would have to find you before he lost his sanity. 

[jacaeryslover]

LOVE AGAIN: a newt scamander fanfic.

DISCLAIMER: If you're looking for canon, you will not find it here. But what you'll definitely gonna find is: inconsistency, plot holes, bad writing, and things that probably don't make any sense.

In my mind, her brother looks like Aaron Taylor Johnson in that John Lennon movie, but that's up to you. I plan this to be a series but I don't know, maybe I'll get bored of it.

IN THE PAST

The voices in the halls repeated the same words, “The Black Twins are getting sorted too, right?” and other sentences with the same intention reached her ears. They were right nonetheless, she and her older brother (by minutes) were attending Hogwarts this year, and hopefully they would become roommates once they both get sorted into Slytherin, as the family tradition dictated.

Once the new students were waiting to getting sorted into their Houses, she felt an enormous excitement at the thought of learning spells and all the things the professors would ask them to do, she was so in her mind that the only thing that could get her out was the sound of her brother’s name being called “Regulus Black!” someone shouted, in an instant, her eyes drifted, looking for her brother who was halfway into the stairs that would place him in front of the old looking Hat.

The talking hat didn’t even bother to have a second thought and he was quickly the newest member of House Slytherin. But not for long, she thought.

Her name was the one being shouted now, and she quickly took her brothers place. The Sorting Hat took a long time deciding, but she didn’t felt nervous, not at all, and once the hat finally chose, she could only close her eyes, thinking of how her life will be from now on.

“RAVENCLAW!”

The place suddenly went quiet, no one dared to say a word. She finally opened her eyes, only to look his brother’s disappointed face, he tried to not show it, but she could tell, she could always tell. Her eyes followed the professors and they all shared the same look: worry.

She knew what this meant, she was the odd one out, a disappointment in her family’s eyes. Her father would probably hate her, if he didn’t by now, he certainly would now that she was the first Black to be sorted into Ravenclaw.

When she reached the other Ravenclaw students, she could feel a strong gaze fixated on her, but she couldn’t place the owner. And honestly, who wasn’t looking at her? She felt like a circus animal, and she just wanted the day to be over.

…

Her long dark hair fell into her uniform and the lousy white streak that always stayed at the front, caused her to finally raise her hand and tuck the rebel streak in her left ear. Running her way to Potions class she noticed that there was a tiny little animal in the middle of the hall. Slowly she approached the beast to not scare him away, but someone was faster, more skillful.

She knew the boy, he was a year older than her and he was a Hufflepuff, she didn’t knew much about him but he always seemed sweet, with those ferret-like eyes and freckles the color of sand that seemed to dance across his face. “Hello there” she spoke gently, scared that he would run the moment she approached, just as the beast he was gently holding would.

“Hi” he muttered shyly, unable to keep his eyes on her, and instead looking at the animal he was holding.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked, while waiting for his answer she decided to sit on the floor by his side, and just moments after she heard “I-It’s just a Salamander”.

“Oh!” was all she could say, too embarrassed to even form a coherent thought. In her defense, her field was Astronomy and Potions. That was her goal, and the only thing that mattered. If her family hated her because of what she is now, they wouldn’t hate her if she becomes the best Potioneer and Astronomer, right? They would feel proud.

He found it cute the moment he noticed her cheeks turned a shade of red, consequence of her mistake. He did not judged her, he actually knew what her interests were, he knew she was fond of Astronomy and Potions, always excited to answer the professor’s questions, people were tired of her always being eager to answer, but he was not. He was amazed of her knowledge and how often she corrected the people teaching them. To him it was awesome, she was awesome.

…

Time with Newt Scamander was time well spent, he often told her about magical creatures she knew nothing about.

“You know a lot about fantastic beasts, Newt. You should consider writing a book in the future. I would love to attend the book signing!” He smiled, she sounded very happy thinking about him writing a book of the magical creatures he explained her for hours. His eyes danced through every part of your face, analyzing every single thing, how your eyes closed when you smiled, how your cheeks turned a little bit red every time you complimented him, and how you constantly tucked your white streak of hair in your ear. He engraved every part of it in his soul, scared he would forget this moment.

…

Graduation day came, and she was different. She had changed, but she had changed so little that no one noticed. Her father took it upon himself to change her, and he finally succeeded.

The second she left the residence she lost contact with the Black’s, including her older brother. She flew to every place that needed her knowledges, France, China, and many others, but never setting foot on the place she used to live.

Losing contact with Newt Scamander was collateral damage, she thought of it as a sacrifice she had to make, he was the reason she had to leave after all. She was now settled in France, writing a book about the effects the stages of moon had in potions. Her white streak was now painted black, allowing herself to forget her family, how they treated her in her youth, their beliefs, and everything that was so important to them. More important than her.

[that-one-gay-from-the-gay-club]

HI IM A LITTLE LATE I WAS AT A CONCERT HSHZHDUAAUID

@croptopjames <3 NSFW but not explicit

It's sinful, fucking sinful.

When Regulus agreed to be dragged along to this guys birthday party as part of him and his brother reconciling, this isn't how he thought it would go.

He thought it would maybe go something along the lines of he got a drink or two or three, say hi to the birthday boy, meet his brothers boyfriend and other two "best friends in the whole- the whoolle wide world reggie" he had slurred just slightly (just preparty drinks things), and then maybe, maybe if he got drunk enough, dance a bit. You know.

Most of those things did happen, to be fair. But the one thing he didn't see coming was James Fleamont Potter.

James potter, with his fucking dancing and his fucking hips and that fucking crop top. He had a waist that regulus just wanted to sink his teeth into, one that would look much better with handprint bruises, and his tattoo, that fucking tattoo, the stag antlers just barely peeking over his jeans.

Just barely, that is, until James hooks a finger in his waistband and starts swaying his hips to the beat of the music, other arm holding his bottle above his head, the head that's thrown back exposing a neck Regulus just wants to wrap his hands around and squeeze.

The worst decision he could make is walk over to him.

So he walks over to him, drink in hand (there's no way he's leaving it unattended) and smiles his most innocent smile. He looks up at James though his eyelashes, a perk of being the smallest black brother.

"And who might you be?" James grins. "No no, noono let me guess. Baby Black."

"Oh fuck that Nickname sucks, Potter" Regulus all but shudders

"Potter? Not James?" He pouts. Regulus wants to bite that lip, bite down on it and pull antil it bleeds. He wants to watch the blood run down James's chin and then lick it off.

He's so fucked. He stands up on tiptoe, so he can be right next to James's ear. He'll blame it on the music.

"James" he murmurs, low and dark and sweet all at the same time. He could have sworn James shuddered at the name.

"Regulus." James copies his tone, in his own ear, and if he sounded anything like that whilst saying James's name then he's surprised James is still upright. It makes his knees buckle for a second.

Strong arms wrap around his waist, and a slower song comes on.

"Dance with me?"

Regulus nods. Its polite, isn't it? It's rude to say no to the birthday boy. Even if, technically, it stopped being his birthday about an hour ago. The pair dance, and get far too close, and Regulus has his hands on that fucking crop top and on James's stupid little waist. It's fucking- it's not tiny, but it's not big. It's muscled. Seriously, the man is sculpted from clay or some shit.

Regulus tugs at the crop top. It reaches to a little above his belly button, and Regulus really really wants to rip it off.

"Now now honey, what are you doing that for?" Regulus blushes at the pet name, and it's almost impossible to hide because of how pale he is. James smirks, fucking smirks. Its usually something regulus Hayes, but on James it makes him want to kiss, and scratch and bite and make James his.

"Do you maybe want to go upstairs?" James asks, almost hesitantly, despite how confidently he's now murmuring in Regulus's ear and- and oh fuck, and kissing his neck.

He nods, frantically, resisting the urge to bite his lip.

"Not good enough, baby, I want to hear you say it" James says, standing up straight again, cocky smile back in place.

Regulus can play that game too. He stands on his tiptoes, wrapping his arms around James's neck and breathing in his ear.

"Please, sir? Can we go upstairs, to your room?" He says, tongue dripping with honey, as he gently tugs at James's earlobe with his teeth

[w4ndering-th0ught]

sweat. 647 words. @jegulus-microfic.

Joint quidditch practices were Madam Hooch’s idea. Something about trying to quell inter-house animosity- blah blah blah.

In Regulus’ opinion the only thing useful about the joint practices is that they get to see first hand what a disaster the Gryffindor team is.

Like right now, Frank Longbottom and Marlene McKinnon are in a shouting match over which drill the group should work on next.

“No- NO! We can’t give them our best drills, Marlene, they’ll-”

“Oh for fucks sake, we have practice with them for the rest of term, what are we going to do? Never train to our full potential?!”

The Slytherin captain, Dorcas Meadowes, is watching the exchange with her trademark sharpness. She throws a look over at Regulus and cocks and eyebrow. He can practically hear her voice in his head, all brawn no brains, this lot.

He laughs at her and turns away, catching sight of James Potter. Staring at him.

Dorcas claps her hands together twice. “Alright, we’re going to move on to some partner work while those two finish their little spat.” She gestures with two lazy fingers over at Frank and Marlene and starts to draw a line in the mud with the heel of her boot. Marlene looks like she’s swallowed a pygmy puff.

“I call this one push-over.” Dorcas says as she finishes her line. She flicks another finger at Marlene. “You’re with me since you’re finished over there.”

Marlene splutters but stomps over all the same.

“Slytherins will be on this side of the line, Gryffindors on the other.” Dorcas indicates the line in the mud separating her and Marlene. “Knees bent, hinge slightly at the waist, and link your shoulders.” Dorcas gestures for Marlene to follow her lead and they end up with Dorcas’ left shoulder pressed to Marlene’s right, their cheeks practically smushed together. “The goal is to get to your opponent's side of the line.”

That’s all the warning Dorcas gives before she is barrelling into Marlene full force, the Gryffindor staggering back three paces. Dorcas catches her round the middle before she can go sprawling in the mud.

She keeps her hand in the curve of Marlene’s waist and turns to address the rest of the two teams. “Just like that. Go ahead and pair off. I’ll count you down.”

Marlene has gone bright red.

Regulus turns to see which Gryffindor he can goad into going against him and finds James Potter already waiting on the other side of the line. He doesn’t say anything, just bends over slightly and offers his shoulder to Regulus the way a knight might offer a lady his sword. Chivalrous. Condescending.

Regulus tries his best to scowl and hinges forward, slotting his shoulder in place against James’. He’s hot from their warm up, Regulus can feel his breath tickling at his neck.

“3, 2, 1-”

Neither of them hesitate, they’re pressing and shoving and heaving at each other. James is growling, the feeling of it vibrating through his chest and transferring to Regulus’ clavicle.

And Regulus is not going to win this. James is a chaser, broad and tall and fucking strong. Regulus is a seeker, he’s quick but he can’t-

James’ foot slips in the mud and he goes down, snagging Regulus’ kit so they land in a heap, Regulus directly on top of him.

James is gasping, heaving in the air Regulus unceremoniously squished out of him. Regulus is trying to catch his breath as well, very conscious of the fact that they’re only inches away.

“Thought you had that, did you?” Regulus says.

Sweat drips down James’ forehead and snags in the tail end of his eyebrow. “I’m right where I want to be, sweetheart.” James reaches his head forward and brushes their noses together. It’s a tiny touch, a fragment of a moment, and then James is dumping Regulus into the mud.

[noblehouseofgay]

Otb spoilers (I'm suffering)

- I'm living for the murder revenge spree. I've been patiently waiting for regulus to just snap and I'm glad it's finally happening

- every time james has a one night stand part of my heart dies I swear he just wants his star back

- i swear to fuck- if Peter is a traitor- or Marlene or Evan dies- i swear- I'll lose it- that is too close to canon for my liking

- the way james has a tiny little suspicion about reg😭 he's not losing the last ounce of hope for him

- dorcas and Regulus being each other's spies <33

- I have 16 chapters to go and it's agonizing but I will finish it. I'm too far in to quit

- ok but Regulus killing rastaban and Evans dad simply bc they hurt james, he's so real actually

- this war cannot end soon enough fucking Salazar I hurt I'm suffering this is nothing but pain

- dorlene and wolfstar going strong? Good for them. I won't be ok til jegulus is ok

- I've had a theory since the beginning that Regulus will make remus help him with the locket to pay his debt. And I'm sticking to that bc I want it

- cannot fucking wait for dorcas to bring reg back from the darkness oh my god