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The Institute (2025—) | Season 1, Episode 1 “The Boy” | Ben Barnes as Tim Jamieson
#“BEEEENNNN!!” <- I scream in my best simplynailogical impression#ben with his lil ticket in his jacket pocket = man cannot get more adorable sorry#ben barnes#the institute#tim jamieson#cinemapix#mygifs#myedits#dailyfilmandtv#dailytvsource#dailytvedit#dailytvgifs#dailytvfilmgifs#filmtvcentral#dailyflicks#tvsource#dailygifs#tvfilmsource#tvfilmgifs#tvfilmdaily#fcsources#dailymenedit#dailymengifs#mensource#dailymensource#dailytvmen
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Like a brother to me.
@frankc-astle
FRANK CASTLE & BILLY RUSSO The Punisher • 2017-2019
#frank castle#billy russo#the punisher#thepunisheredit#marveledit#ben barnes#jon bernthal#dailymarvelgifs#marvellegends#marveldaily#theavengers
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Ben Barnes as Billy Russo THE PUNISHER SEASON 1 (2017), created by Steve Lightfoot
#marveledit#tvedit#marvel tv#thepunisheredit#MCU#The Punisher#Ben Barnes#Billy Russo#marvelcharacter8#**
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I've „love” reading comments from antis saying things like “The Darkling is 500 years old, he should have processed his trauma and gotten over it by now” and honestly, it’s disturbing how common this line of thinking is. Especially when it comes with the second part: “Our (enter all Grishaverse characters) have a right to be traumatized, they were just kids dragged into war.”
Yes, they were young. Yes, they suffered. No one is taking that away. But what shocks me is how quickly these same people dismiss the concept that long-term trauma doesn't fade with age. If anything, untreated trauma accumulates. It changes a person in ways that are invisible until something breaks. There is no magical threshold of years after which you're “supposed” to be healed. It doesn’t work like that. Being exposed to war, death, betrayal and existential fear for centuries without a moment of true rest or help does not heal someone. It destroys them gradually. It reshapes how they think, how they love, how they connect. Some of the most devastating cases of PTSD I’ve ever read about were people who didn’t even begin to feel the full weight of their experiences until decades later. Some were veterans of the Second World War who never spoke about what they saw until they were in their seventies or eighties, when their defenses started slipping. Some carried guilt and grief for over half a century and it still haunted them in their sleep. And those were people who had families, support, and the knowledge that the war eventually ended. Now compare that to a person who never gets peace. Never had the war end. Never had help. Someone who is constantly under threat. Who sees each generation repeat the same mistakes and bury the people they once fought beside. Who walks through the ashes of every hope and must start again, knowing how it will end. That’s not an excuse for every decision he made. But it is a necessary perspective if we’re talking about trauma. What antis are doing is trivializing the condition they claim to care about. Because if trauma only matters when it’s happening to a 20-year-old, and not to a person who’s been in survival mode for centuries, then you’ve reduced the concept of PTSD and depression to a short-term teen plot device. Some of these people don’t even realize how dehumanizing their arguments are. I’ve seen people say that age should equal healing—as if time itself is a cure. It isn’t. People live and die with trauma. They carry it into every relationship and every silence. Healing is possible, yes, but not in conditions that keep re-traumatizing you over and over again. Not in a world that refuses to change. And certainly not alone. I don’t know how anyone can genuinely think that after 500 years of war, grief, and loss, someone should have healed unless they fundamentally don’t understand what trauma is. Or unless they’ve only ever seen trauma in fiction—specifically in stories tailored to let them insert themselves into young protagonists while disregarding any character who doesn’t fit the healing narrative they prefer. This kind of thinking doesn’t come from people who understand war. It comes from people who need their heroes clean and simple, and their villains easily disposable. And that’s not analysis. That’s comfort.
#shadow and bone#the darkling#pro darkling#aleksander morozova#shadow and bone tv#ben barnes#grishaverse#darklina#darkling#alina starkov#the crows#six of crows#inej gafha#kaz brekker#mal oretsev#anti mal oretsev#zoya nazyalensky#anti zoya nazyalensky#anti nikolai lanstov#nikolai lantsov#genya safin#anti crows#anti six of crows#anti antis#anti stupidity#ptsd#trauma#war#anti grishaverse#leigh bardugo
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The Institute BTS
#ben barnes#benbarnes#the darkling#bin bons#billy russo#prince caspian#silly ben#sirius black#the institute#photo ben
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BEN BARNES as THE DARKLING Shadow & Bone • 2021
#ben barnes#benbarnesedit#mancandykings#shadow and bone#the darkling#aleksander morozova#shadowandboneedit#tvarchive#tvedit#userpayton#userlolo#mialook#userelio#underbetelgeuse#userashe#*#melanie
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6 x Adria Arjona & Ben Barnes (suggestion by @pbf-stuff
REQUEST - DIRECTORY
“I hate you,” I whisper before he can speak. He tilts my face to his. “Say it again,” he says. “I hate you,” I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
Gifs makers : @harleytheweird
#crackships#adria arjona#adria arjona gifs#adria arjona gif#adria arjona crackship#ben barnes#ben barnes gif#ben barnes gifs#ben barnes crackship#adria arjona x ben barnes#forum rpg#rpg ressources#ressources graphiques
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THE INSTITUTE 1.02 "Shot for Dots"
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THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: PRINCE CASPIAN 2008 | dir. Andrew Adamson
#filmedit#tconedit#narniaedit#bbarnesedit#the chronicles of narnia#prince caspian#ben barnes#ours#eme#cinemapix#dailyflicks#film#moviegifs#animationsource#animationdaily#animationedit#dreamworksedit#nondisneyedit#filmtvcentral#fyeahmovies#cinematv#userstream
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BEN BARNES as TIM JAMIESON The Institute • 1.01 "The Boy"
#ben barnes#benbarnesedit#mancandykings#tvedit#tvarchive#televisiongifs#dailymenedit#the institute#tim jamieson#userbbelcher#tuserhan#tusersammy#userashe#userlolo#useranja#mel edits
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SHADOW & BONE 1.06• The Heart is an Arrow
#shadow & bone#the darkling#sabedit#grishaedit#shadowandboneedit#ben barnes#benbarnesedit#tvedit#userbbelcher#tvarchive#userlolo#userelio#underbetelgeuse#tuserlou#mialook#fantasy#2020s#*#by melanie
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LIE DETECTOR — aaron taylor-johnson
In which both you and your husband were invited to do a lie detector test in the vanity fair channel.
note: I only own the story not the channel and our daddy Aaron. This was also inspired by Ariana Grande and Cynthia's lie detector episode so some of the questions in this story might be the same as the episode. I honestly don't like Sam Tayler that much because of her marrying a male so much younger than her but I can't lie that she's a decently good person, she matched Aaron's freak but a bit too much—
warnings!: none really.
__________________
"Hello I am Mr. Johnson, married to this lovely amazing woman here." Aaron Johnson greeted towards the large camera in front of him and his wife, who was beside him blushing as well as smiling widely at what he said, before moving his gaze towards you. Everyone in the room as well as the viewers could see the love in his eyes with the way he looks at you.
"And I am [ Your Name ] Johnson, the wife of this very handsome and devilishly charming bloke beside me." You grinned at the camera while moving your hand towards your husband's hand before holding on to it. This lead to Aaron subconsciously intertwining both of your hands before mindlessly holding it up for him to kiss your joined hands.
It was an adorable sight for everyone watching as they could feel the pure love coming from them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, you are here to take a lie detector test. One will be attached to a machine for the test to work and the other will be sitting in the chair in front of you to ask you some questions. So who will be ready to take the hot seat?" The woman behind the camera said to the couple. After hearing this, you raised your free hand taking you and your husband by surprise.
"I think I can go first." You said while you looked at your husband, seeing if he agrees.
"You sure? I can go first for you." Aaron proposed but you shook your head and said you were okay to go first.
Now seated in your places, the woman, Stephanie, who was a lie detector professional put a black strap around your chest as well as a smaller one around your index finger.
"You alright, love?" Aaron asked his lover while smiling slightly when he saw you closing your eyes when the straps were put on you. He could tell you were about to enjoy this test and he could tell he would as well.
"Yes! Does this detect my anxiety as well?" You asked towards Stephanie who paused for a while.
"Yes, it can."
"Oh fuck me." You cursed making your husband laugh at your misery.
"Oh yea, laugh at my misery, why don't you?" This made Aaron laugh even harder before composing himself.
"Right. So before we start with the serious question, I need you to answer some simple questions to calibrate the machine. You okay with that, love?" Aaron inquired.
"Oh, Absolutely." You agreed. Aaron nodded and cleared his throat before asking you the questions.
"Alright, are you [ Your Name ] [Last Name ] Johnson?"
"Yes."
Stephanie nodded.
"Were you born in [ Birthday ]?"
"Yes."
Another nod from Stephanie.
"Are you nervous?"
"Yes but at the same time I feel really excited."
Another nod.
"Were you and Mr.Johnson married in [ date ] and at [ time ]?"
"That's oddly very specific but yes." Aaron chuckled at this because he agrees.
"The machine has been calibrated." Stephanie informed the couple to which they nodded. You adjusted in your seat before breathing out to ready yourself for the real questions.
"You ready, hon?" Aaron looked at his wife who nodded with a small 'yep'.
"Love, you've won two oscars and was awarded of the best young actress award in 2013. Would you say that you have the best work ethic?" This made you think a bit because you definitely don't have the best one right now but it was alright and you were comfortable.
"I wouldn't say I have the best, I mean there are some times where it's the worst and there are also times where it worked in the most conventional way. I would just say I'm a workaholic." You explained it as best as you could making Stephanie nod a yes from behind the lie detector. This caused you to beam in excitement, you knew to yourself that you weren't lying and seeing that it was confirmed made you excited.
Seeing you excited made Aaron smile at you fondly. He always loved seeing you light up, it's one of the things that made his days brighter even on his worst days. He guesses that this lie detector test would help both of you gain more trust in each other in some way.
"Oh you are definitely a workaholic. Speaking of, the next question is are you a workaholic?" Aaron chuckled out when he saw you sarcastically roll your eyes.
"Duh? I just did a few moments ago."
"Truthful." Stephanie said making you smile at her.
"Next is, would you work with this person?" Aaron slid a photo of Ben Barnes to which you chuckled.
"Oh my god, not Benjamin!" You dramatically exclaimed as you saw the photo of your long time friend, to which everyone chuckled in amusement. "We've worked together multiple times, secretly. Though Aaron knows this because he's 'his brother from another mother' if you get what that reference means." You winked at the camera.
"Hey! We're supposed to keep Padfoot a secret, what would his banshee of a mother think of now?" Aaron playfully reprimanded you to which you laughed because you understood his joke quite well.
"James, you practically announced that he was living with you since we were teens." You deadpanned continuing the joke as your husband playfully glared at you.
"Everything she said is the truth." Stephanie said, making everyone watching gape as you both basically revealed the Sirius Black and James Potter fancasts are best friends to the point of barging in each other's homes like the Harry Potter characters.
Both you and your husband exchanged amused glances before continuing on with the questions.
"What do you think of this photo?" Aaron slid another photo of you and Sam Taylor smiling at the camera on the way to the Tony Awards.
"Aw, it's Sammy! This was probably one of my favorite photos because if it weren't for Sam, me and Aaron wouldn't be together to this day. Because fun fact, Sam was the one who kept trying to put us together whenever she could when we met each other in the film Kick-Ass. It also just happened that I was the love interest of Dave Lizewski so it kind of made her set on her 'matchmaking' as she calls it. She's like a mother to me, truly." You explained in fondness, it was true. The woman was not that very liked due to her marrying a way more younger man than her but behind all that, she was truly only a woman who loved to love. Her movies directed by her showed that.
Sam saw what you and Aaron had and wanted you to be able to experience the type of love she couldn't have when she was younger. A love that was shared with a pair at the same age or close to their age. Sam loved her husband who was 34 now but even she knew that it wouldn't last, she was 57 for god's sake. She knew she would end up divorced sooner or later and she wanted to see you end up with someone you love and is the same age, she didn't want you to end up like her. Because she truly thought of you as her daughter as well.
Aaron stared at you with the warmest and loving eyes you could ever see in a person. He was deeply in love with you and the viewers can see it, feel it. He knew that you loved talking about Sam, she became like a mother figure to him too. She was the one who he confided to whenever he was worried about making the wrong move towards you and he never once regretted asking her for help because he wouldn't be married to you if he did.
"Alright, love. Next question is—" Aaron scoffed off a laugh threatening to burst out of his mouth when he read the question.
"What? What is it?" You asked worriedly to your husband who shook his head no before stuttering out the question.
"Do you believe the moon landing was fake?"
"What the fuck? What kind of question is that? No!" You voiced out in confusion. Of course you knew it was real! Right?
"Inconclusive." Stephanie hid a smile as she said this, the machine was indeed saying it was inconclusive.
Aaron bursted out of laughing as soon as he heard that.
"You think it was fake?" Your husband laughed out while smacking his thigh from amusement.
"No! I didn't until Stephanie put that in me!" You exclaimed as you looked absolutely repulsed and confused. Maybe this is rigged.
"Oh god, that is hilarious! I am never letting this go down, love." Aaron breathed out as he tried to compose himself. You on the other hand, covered your face with your hands in disbelief.
"Do you believe the earth is flat?"
"No!"
"Deceptive."
Another burst of laughter as well as a gasp of disbelief.
"You think the Earth's flat now?" Aaron was almost crying because of how entertaining this was. This was the best day of his life, one of them at least. "Let's try again, Do you think the Earth is flat?"
"No, the earth is round." You said, now much more calmer than before. This made Stephanie nod in confirmation that you were indeed telling the truth.
"I think you were still stuck with the moon landing, love."
"I was definitely still stuck there."
"Alright there is one more question before we switch." Aaron announced after a series of questions went by. You nodded and slightly adjusted in your seat.
"Do you love me?"
"Of course, I do, very much." You answered instantly and with a single nod from Stephanie, Aaron smiled softly at you to which you did the same.
"Why?" Aaron added making you pretend to think, which made him chuckle a bit.
"The right question for that is 'cuz, why not?" You said with a smile as your husband only raised a brow signalling you to elaborate.
"What's there not to love about you or yourself in general?" You said softly as you looked into his eyes with that same look that he has on his. Both of you stared at each other in silence. God, He thinks he just fell in love with you again. He thought as he took in your whole being in front of him.
"I don't know—a lot, I guess?" He shrugged seemingly nonchalant but you knew better.
"Well I love them and love all of you." You said short and honestly. To which Stephanie nodded once again to confirm that what you said was true. The Lie detector professional knew she doesn't need to speak to confirm this so she settled with a simple nod like from before because she did not want to ruin this cute moment the soulmates were having. Yes, she thinks both of you are soulmates. Not everyone would look at their spouse like that even after getting married or spending time with each other.
"God fuckin' damn it, I think I just fell in love with you over and over again."
#aaron taylor johnson#aaron taylor johnson x reader#james potter x reader#harry potter#james potter#ben barnes#marauders#vanity fair#lie detector
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𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞
── sirius black x f!reader



summary: “You know what's funny?" His voice is low, drawling, like a secret whispered against your wrist. "What?" Your own voice trembles. "I swear my plan was just to make you sleep." His teeth graze your skin lightly. "But you're not helping, doll."
warnings: language, est. relationship, suggestive, love bites, no use of y/n, the marauders' reaction when they saw that you spent the night in the boys' dormitory.
a/n: sirius' m.list is my oldest draft (from early december), but only now have I dared to do something with it, I hope it didn't turn out too bad <33
Your footsteps on the stone staircase barely make a sound as you climb toward the boys' dormitories in Gryffindor Tower. The castle is drowned in the silence of the early hours, and the only light illuminating your path comes from the weakly dancing flames in the common room fireplace far below.
You've been here before. Many times. The path to him is as familiar as Sirius himself.
Reaching the top of the staircase, you push the door open slowly, slipping into the dark room. The air is thick with the dormitory’s woody scent and something unmistakably his—a mix of leather, smoke, and Sirius.
The other boys sleep deeply, their steady breathing filling the space. But your gaze is drawn to the bed at the far end, where crimson curtains are partially parted, revealing a cascade of black hair spread across the pillow.
Sirius lies on his side, one hand tucked under his face, his breathing slow and deep. The moonlight slipping through the window cracks casts a silver glow over him, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the soft shadows beneath his closed eyes, the dark hue of his long lashes against his pale skin.
You move closer, soundless, kneeling beside his bed. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lightly trace your fingers over his arm, the tip of your nail grazing the warmth of his skin.
"Sirius..." your voice is barely a whisper.
He stirs, frowning slightly before his eyes slowly flutter open. Sleep-clouded gray meets yours, and a shadow of a smile tugs at his lips.
"Ah," his voice, rough and drowsy, slides through the silence like a secret. "So my imagination has finally materialized into flesh and bone?"
His lazy, slightly teasing tone sends warmth flooding through your chest. You smile softly. "If you're dreaming of me, then your imagination is terribly dull."
Sirius lets out a short chuckle, rolling onto his back and stretching an arm toward you. "Since you're already here, come on."
You don’t hesitate. The bed creaks slightly as you slide in, molding yourself against the warmth of his body. Sirius shifts to make space, pulling the curtains closed around you both with a lazy flick of his wand before murmuring a silencing charm. The world outside disappears.
His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his bare chest. The heat of his skin is comforting, and you can feel the slow, drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, his lips brushing the top of your head.
You shake your head against him, feeling the movement of his smile before you even see it.
"Lucky me, then."
"Why?"
"Because now I have an excuse to do this." His fingers trail idly up your arm, skimming over your shoulder, your neck, until finally threading into your hair. He plays with the strands absentmindedly while his other arm tightens around your waist, as if making sure you won’t slip away.
You sigh, sinking further into him.
Sirius tilts his head, pressing his lips lightly to your forehead for a lingering moment, his breath warm against your skin before he murmurs:
"Want me to tell you a story?"
You lift your face to look at him. "Since when do you tell stories?"
He shrugs, a lazy glint in his eyes. "Since now. I have a very selective and highly demanding audience to entertain."
You laugh softly but nod. "I do."
Sirius thinks for a moment, his gray eyes lost in the shadows of the bed canopy. Then, in a deliberately dramatic tone, he begins:
"Once upon a time, there was a great hunter in the sky. He was strong, invincible, arrogant as hell, but handsome enough to make up for it—"
"This is about Orion, isn’t it?"
"Hey, who’s telling the story here?"
You smile, resting a hand on his chest. "Go on, then."
Sirius clears his throat theatrically. "As I was saying, Orion was a legendary hunter. But he was also a little impulsive—and pissed off powerful people, which, let’s be honest, is a familiar trait."
The implication in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed. You smile against his skin, feeling Sirius's muscles relax beneath your fingers.
"He boasted that he could defeat any beast on Earth," Sirius continues, lowering his voice to a deep whisper. "And the gods, being the bastards they are, didn’t like that. So they sent a scorpion to kill him. And just like that, the invincible hunter fell."
He pauses, his eyes locked onto yours.
"But the gods placed him in the sky," he finishes softly. "A bright constellation, never to be forgotten."
The silence between you is filled only by the sound of your soft breaths and the slow beat of Sirius’s heart under your palm.
"Tragic," you murmur.
Sirius smiles faintly. "All the best stories are."
You watch his face in the dark, the soft fall of his dark hair over his eyes, the strong line of his jaw softened by the dim light. He looks caught between two worlds—one where he is Sirius Black as everyone knows him, and another where it’s just you and the way he melts into you.
You touch his face lightly, letting your thumb graze the curve of his mouth. "If you were a constellation, which one would you be?"
His lips part slightly under your touch, something warm flickering in his gaze.
"If I could choose..." he murmurs, "any one that’s next to you in the sky."
Your heart clenches.
Sirius seems to notice, because he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss, as if trying to trap the feeling of you here, as if trying to make this moment eternal.
And in a way, it is.
The kiss starts soft. The kind of kiss Sirius gives when he wants to savor, when he wants to feel. But there’s something about you—the way your fingers tangle in his hair, the way your body molds against his, the way your lips return to his without a shred of hesitation—that makes him lose his patience.
The sound he makes against your mouth is deep, almost a low, satisfied purr, and then the softness dissolves. His hands tighten on your waist before sliding up your back, pulling you closer. You feel the tension in his muscles beneath your fingers, his breath becoming more uneven against yours.
Sirius kisses like it’s hunger.
And you surrender.
You get carried away.
Your bodies fit together in an almost desperate way, his hands traveling up your neck, into your hair, his fingers firm against your skin, as if he wants to memorize you. He takes your mouth with more insistence now, deepening the kiss in a way that makes it hot, consuming.
When you let out a quiet moan against his lips, Sirius exhales an almost exasperated sigh and flips you over in one swift motion, pinning you beneath him. His weight is comfortable, warm, and you feel every inch of him against you.
Sirius' gray eyes gleam in the dark, intense, hungry. He leans down, brushing the tip of his nose along your jaw, trailing slowly down your neck, letting his breath warm your skin. A shiver runs through you.
"You know what's funny?" His voice is low, drawling, like a secret whispered against your wrist.
"What?" Your own voice trembles.
"I swear my plan was just to make you sleep." His teeth graze your skin lightly. "But you're not helping, doll."
The shiver rolls down your spine even before you feel the first bite.
Sirius presses his mouth to your neck, sucking slowly before biting—not hard enough to hurt, but enough that tomorrow, you’ll see the marks and remember exactly how they got there.
You cling to him, fingers digging into his bare back, feeling the satisfied chuckle he lets out against your collarbone before biting there too, as if he’s claiming you, leaving his signature on your skin.
You feel him smile against your shoulder before he trails his lips up to your jaw, then back to your mouth. The kiss now is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the effect he has on you.
Then, as abruptly as he started, Sirius stops.
His lips still brush against yours, but he doesn’t push forward. His breathing is fast, just like yours, and for a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze hazy, intense.
The silence between you is thick, full of everything that doesn’t need to be said.
Then, with a sigh, he lets out a low, husky laugh. "If I keep going, you’ll never sleep."
He doesn’t pull away completely, but you feel the weight of his restraint in his shoulders when he closes his eyes for a moment, controlling his breathing.
Your fingers touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension beneath his warm skin.
Sirius opens his eyes again, and there’s something so devastatingly intense in them that your heart clenches.
He gives you a faint smile, lips still a little swollen. "You’re killing me, you know that?"
You smile back, sliding your arms around his neck. "If it’s any consolation… we’re dying together."
Sirius lets out a short laugh, then kisses your forehead and pulls you against his chest.
"Now sleep, my love." His voice is low, laced with the sleep that’s finally catching up to him.
Sirius' body is a warm shelter against yours, his chest rising and falling steadily as he holds you tightly, but not trapping you. He lazily runs a hand up and down your back, tracing invisible patterns with his fingertips, the touch so tender it makes your heart ache.
"Breathe with me," he murmurs into your hair, his voice still thick with sleep.
You obey, inhaling when he does, exhaling in the same rhythm. His chest vibrates against you when he lets out a contented sigh, and then, in a tone so soft it feels meant just for you, Sirius starts to hum.
The melody is gentle, little more than a low, resonant hum against your ear. He doesn’t sing words, just lets the sound fill the space between you, as if he’s lulling you into a song only he knows.
And it works.
Your muscles slowly relax, your eyes grow heavy, and the last thing you feel before finally slipping into sleep is the warm press of Sirius' lips against your forehead.
Morning arrives lazily, with the sun filtering through the heavy curtains and spreading a golden glow across the room. You're still deeply asleep, nestled against Sirius' chest, while he rests his hand possessively on your back, his fingers lazily curled in the thin fabric of your blouse.
Sirius is awake, but he doesn’t move. He just stays there, watching the way your relaxed face looks even more beautiful in the soft light, the way your breath against his collarbone sends shivers down his skin.
He could stay like this all day.
Unfortunately, the world has other plans. The bed curtain is abruptly yanked aside.
"WHAT THE F—"
"Shhh! For Merlin's sake, James!"
Potter’s shout barely has time to echo through the room before it's interrupted by the urgent whispers of Remus. Sirius narrows his eyes, irritated.
"Fuck off, James, shut up," he grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.
James raises his hands in surrender, but his eyes are still wide as he stares at the scene before him. Remus just rubs his face, exhausted before the day even begins.
Peter, who has just lifted his head from the pillow, gapes and immediately looks anywhere but at the two of you. "Merlin!" he murmurs, his skin flushing instantly.
Sirius, now burying his head against your neck, lets out a low chuckle. He moves just enough to pull the blanket over his body, not because he wants to hide the marks—he’s actually completely satisfied with how they look—but because he prefers no one else sees them.
James, standing at the foot of the bed with his glasses askew and a scandalized look on his face, points an accusing finger. "Those are marks, Sirius!"
Sirius rolls his eyes. "Do you really have to shout about it? Fuck, she’s still sleeping."
"It’s impressive! You were irresponsible!"
"I was passionate," Sirius corrects, a cheeky smile forming on his lips.
Remus, who’s seen worse, just lets out a sigh. "Can we at least pretend to be adults?"
Sirius shrugs, lazily looking at them before simply pulling you a little closer against him.
"You guys talk too much in the morning," he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear.
James grimaces. "I’m going to puke."
"Then puke outside."
Peter makes a muffled sound, clearly too embarrassed to contribute to the conversation.
Remus, always practical, crosses his arms and watches Sirius with an unreadable look. "You’re a shameless dog."
Sirius grins—a lazy, insolent smile that clearly says no, he definitely isn’t ashamed.
"Guilty," he says, his voice drawling.
James shakes his head, frustrated. "Merlin, Black. Could you at least try to look sorry?"
Sirius just smiles more.
And then, in an absurdly possessive gesture, he lowers his face and places a lazy kiss on your exposed shoulder, as if wanting to make it clear to everyone that yes, the marks are his, and yes, he wears them proudly.
"Now, if you don’t mind," he says, pulling the blanket over both of you and closing his eyes again, "get out of here before I get even more graphic."
James lets out a horrified grunt.
Peter rushes to grab his things and leave.
Remus just sighs, clearly used to this.
And Sirius, satisfied with himself, settles back against you, completely ignoring the chaos he’s caused.
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The Institute BTS
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Shakespeare: So, in Macbeth, the forest doesn't actually move, it's just an army holding branches
C.S. Lewis & J.R.R. Tolkien: And we took that personally
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