#flash thunder amirite

[teamstormbow]

Wh--when they do the 🟥 and ⬜... I've just realized that this is the first time I've ever drawn Among Us beans. How.

[dcat-could-be-spookier]

And so there I was pleasantly speeding along they/them lane until suddenly thunder boomed overhead and it began to rain.

A voice whispered in my ear, "Take a right here."

"But why?" I questioned

"For fuck's sake-" the car swerved as if it had been possessed and took a sharp right turn, the vehicle seemed to pass through some sort of bush, burrs were stuck to my clothing.

"We have arrived," the voice said in a distinctly pleased manner.

I look up and see tacky neon lights.

He/Him the words flash on and off in a garish purple.

Dammit. This is why I don't drive, the cars always have a tendency to lead me here.

I decide to bunk here for the night since the car has started smoking and is emitting a high pitched shriek.

Tuesdays amirite?

[animetrashlord-007]

M.I;; Chapter Two

Word Count;; 2.2k

Genre;; Fluff, Suggestive, Eventual Smut, Slowburn

Pairing;; Oikawa x Ushijima

Side Pairing;; Kuroo x Sugawara

Summary;;

Them college boys go to a party!

Published;; 05.15.17

Notes;;

My Masterlist

Mutual Interests Masterlist

   Suga sighed. Instead of helping with the finishing touches for their first project, he had spent the last hour begging for someone to go with him to some house party near the college. After completing his assignments for the upcoming week and his portion of the group project, he insisted on having a fun night out. To his dismay, none of his peers were as caught up as he was nor did they wish to be hungover tomorrow when their first class started at 7am. He had received a resounding ‘no’ from both Kuroo and Oikawa. Ushijima, on the other hand, was softer than the other two. Suga knew he could wear him down.

   “We can't waste our lives on homework! We're young, we're free!” Suga whined, falling back onto Ushijima’s bed.

   “It's probably not a good idea,” Ushijima mumbled to the small setter beside him whilst typing away on his laptop like his life depended on it.

   “It is! We need to relax just as much as study! Right, Kuroo-san?”

   Suga frowned as he stared across the room. Oikawa had textbooks and notebooks spread across Kuroo’s bed and the raven-haired man was lying on the floor next to him. Kuroo was entertaining himself by stealing Oikawa’s notes without the other noticing. Whenever Kuroo managed to steal a paper from the bed, he smirked and ate a jellybean. Oikawa muttered about losing his mind as he searched for specific notes, causing Kuroo’s smirk to grow into a lopsided grin. They continued their conversation and their one-sided game, Oikawa still oblivious to the thief.

   “I could've gone weirder, to be honest. I went pretty softcore.”

   “That doesn't make it any better, Kuroo-chan. If anything, it makes it worse!”

   “Like you can talk. Want me to slap you around a little or are you just into choking?”

   “I didn't write that!” Oikawa snapped, flinging his pencil at Kuroo’s head. Kuroo cackled, the sound as loud as thunder; Suga rolled his eyes.

   “Actually, nevermind about them. Come on, Ushijima-san! It'll be fun! You need to loosen up, anyway!”

   Ushijima stopped typing as he pondered the statement. He didn't feel tense nor did he think his life lacked anything. He placed the laptop on his nightstand before facing the awaiting eyes of his comrade. “Well, I would feel bad if you went alone.”

   Suga squealed as he jumped to his feet, a gleeful shimmer in his eyes. Displaying inhuman strength, he dragged the brunet to his feet. Dropping his much larger hands, he crossed over to the closet. Upon noticing the other was still standing by the bed, he beckoned him over with a wave. With heavy strides, Ushijima stood next to the bouncing ball of energy once known as Sugawara as he tore through his clothes. He frowned but didn't say anything as his shirts and pants fell onto the floor. Tossing a leather jacket and a light grey hoodie onto the bed, Suga spun around on his heels as he examined Ushijima and then the two articles of clothing.

   “Hmm, that'll work,” he murmured as he tapped a finger against his cheek.

   “What I'm wearing is fine then?”

   “You could wear a potato sack and be fine-” Oikawa snorted, “-but I'm thinking you should wear the leather.”

   “Sure.” Ushijima slipped the jacket over his shirt, zipping it up only to have Suga unzip it.

   “You'll be the bad boy, I'll be the pretty one. Lean down so I can fix your hair.”

   “Where are you two going?” Kuroo stretched with a yawn, leaning back across the bed to grab another piece of paper. Suga stopped wrestling Ushijima long enough to shoot a glare across the room. Resuming his battle to ruffle the other’s hair, he began to tell them the location. Before he could finish, another yawn interrupted him, “That's nice, have fun.”

   Sugawara scoffed not only at the disinterest seeping off in waves from the other side of the room but also at the lack of cooperation from Ushijima. With one last glance around the room, he stormed out the door. Oikawa began complaining about Suga’s attitude problem and Kuroo took that as the perfect opportunity to steal another note. He snickered as he gave Ushijima a thumbs up. With a final nod, he departed and pretended not to hear Oikawa’s shrill voice calling out ‘finally!’ as soon as the door closed.

   A couple of hours passed in silence within the dorm. Oikawa started on an essay for his history course, referencing his textbook directly instead of trying to find his personal notes. Kuroo had amassed a rather large pile of papers on the floor beside him. His hand creeped up along the side of the bed, crawling toward a lone piece of paper at the edge of the duvet. Seemingly out of nowhere, a textbook flew into the back of Kuroo’s head.

   “You jerk! Give me back my notes!” Oikawa growled, leaping across the bed to grab at the other man.

   “You're so dense,” Kuroo chuckled, rolling forward to dodge the oncoming assault.

   “I've been distracted!”

   “Worried about them?” Kuroo sneered, waving the stack of papers in front of chocolate eyes.

   Oikawa snatched his notes back, slapping Kuroo across the back of his head with a sigh, “They've been gone for quite awhile, don't you think? Do you think Suga-chan is okay stuck with Ushiwaka?”

   “You have it backwards, you should be worried about Wakatoshi.”

   “Whatever, I'm bringing them back.”

   Kuroo smirked as he gave him a thumbs up, earning a scoff from Oikawa. He packed up his study materials and grabbed Suga’s as well. Bidding Kuroo goodnight, he left in search of the amazing party Suga had raved on about for what felt like an eternity. With a quick stop at their dorm, he picked up a jacket and dropped off their materials before heading out into the night air. The wind was cold against his face as he jogged down the street he thought Suga had mentioned earlier. It didn't take long to find the house hosting the party. Cars lined up and down the street and people swarmed around like ants to a crumb of bread.

   Inside was much worse than he anticipated. The only word that came to Oikawa’s mind as he observed the event was distasteful. It was getting late and most people were beyond wasted. There were empty cups and bottles on every available surface. Some guys were passed out on the couch and the room was filled with the smell of marijuana. Oikawa gagged. He hated these large events where everyone just did as they pleased with no consideration for anyone else. The neighbours, if not yet infuriated by the blaring music, will probably lose their minds when they see the tire tracks and garbage littering their lawn.

   “This party is thumping, amirite?” Oikawa glanced over at the man slurring his words beside him. Alarmed by how suddenly he had appeared and by how much he reeked of alcohol, he threw his hands up in a defensive pose.

   “Please don't talk to me ever again,” he smiled, lowering his hands once the other guy backed away. Quickening his pace, he exited into the kitchen.

   It took a mere second to spot Ushijima. He towered over most of the other partygoers. Oikawa couldn't help but laugh at his expression. It was his usual stoic look except his nose was scrunched up in what only could be described as discomfort. His eyes burned holes into his red cup rather than look down at the two girls that were grinding against him as they made out. Someone bumped into him, their drink sloshing onto his shirt, and still he didn't react. He nodded at their insincere apology, choosing to keep his focus away from the party and on his hand instead.

   “What a sorry sight you are,” Oikawa jeered, striding up beside him.

   “Oikawa.”

   “Where's Suga-chan? I'm taking you home.”

   “No, don't take him home!” One of the girls pouted, resting her hand on Ushijima’s thigh. He shifted with discomfort, nudging the hand off.

   “You can take us all home instead, handsome,” the second girl whisper-yelled over the music, winking at Oikawa.

   “No, thanks! He's the only one I want to take home,” Oikawa smiled and flashed a peace sign, biting his cheek to hold back his irritation. “Where is he, Ushiwaka?”

   Ushijima sighed, relaxing a little as Oikawa sidled between him and the girls, “He took off as soon as we arrived.”

   “That's great, just wonderful. I'll find him, you just stay right here and entertain these lovely ladies. Don't move,” Oikawa grinned at the taller male’s widening eyes and shaking head. “Oh, don't worry so much. I'll probably come back for you.”

   As soon as he moved, the girls were back on Ushijima. Oikawa laughed as he waved before maneuvering his way through the crowd. He searched the remaining rooms on the first floor before heading upstairs. Once that proved fruitless, he ventured into the backyard. Sure enough, in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, was Sugawara. He was covered in glitter and glow sticks and on top of his silver hair was a flower crown. Diving into the mass of sweaty bodies, Oikawa squirmed and slithered until he made his way next to the swaying limbs of his roommate. After his words fell on deaf ears, he yanked him out of the conglomerate.

   “For fucks sake! Listen to me, would you? We're going home!” Oikawa snapped, pulling the giggling mess into the house.

   “Don't you want to do some shots, Oikawa-san?” Suga drawled as he clawed at the hand clasped around his wrists.

   “Stop that! No! We have class in a few hours, I smell like cheap desperation and Ushijima is being mauled by women!”

   “Sounds like you're upset because you want to ‘maul’ Ushijima-san.”

   “Never!” Oikawa hissed, pausing outside the doors to the kitchen.

   “Your secret is safe with me!” Suga giggled.

   “What secret?” A deep voice inquired from the doorway.

   Turning to face the voice, Oikawa groaned, “It's a secret for a reason, Ushiwaka! Didn't I tell you to wait in the kitchen?”

   “I saw you with Sugawara-san and I didn't want to be left with those women any longer.”

   “Whatever. Let's go.” Oikawa headed toward the front door, dragging Suga behind him before growling at Ushijima, “Help me carry this idiot.”

   Oikawa choked on the gasp he fought to keep down his throat as the taller male picked Sugawara up like one would a bag of potatoes. Tossing him over his shoulder and ignoring the much smaller man’s protests, he took off toward the door. Oikawa followed behind like a puppy as Ushijima led him home. Once they reached the campus, he tried to put Suga back on his own two feet but he refused to let go of Ushijima’s arm. He clung onto his frame and wouldn't let go no matter how hard the other tried to pry him off. With a soft sigh, he chose to carry him the rest of the way rather than try to wrestle him off. When they finally reached the room and Oikawa unlocked the door, Suga’s gripped had loosened. Pulling him off the very grateful Ushijima, Oikawa pushed him into their room. He narrowed his eyes at Ushijima’s concerned frown as the silver-haired male fell onto the floor. With a curt nod, Oikawa mumbled his thanks before entering his dorm.

   “Have a good night, Oikawa.”

   “Just sleep here, Ushijima-san. Oikawa’s bed has spa-” Suga’s voice was muffled by the slamming of the door.

   Oikawa dragged Sugawara to his bed, tossing him in with little care for his personal comfort or any regard for his health. He removed his shoes and all of the ridiculous glow sticks he had obtained at the party before tucking him under the sheets. Picking up the flower crown between two fingers, he threw it in the trash. Oikawa couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face as listened to Suga’s cries. While it had looked cute, he wasn't going to let him keep anything from that questionable party. It also pleased him to hear Suga sound distressed after all the worrying he had caused him. Oikawa changed into his pyjamas, standing next to his bed as he decided on his next move. Against his better judgement, he went back to Suga’s bedside.

   “You shouldn't have left Ushijima alone. You know he's awkward,” Oikawa rubbed the back of his neck, sighing as he tried articulate his next sentence. “It wasn't a very nice thing to do, he's your friend after all.”

   “Huh?” Suga hiccupped once before giggling, “I didn't think I'd receive a scolding from you of all people. You don't even like him!”

   “I don't, but you didn't see how pathetic he looked. It was just sad.”

   “Aww, you do like him!” Suga teased, “You probably like him a lot! You were pretty upset when those girls were all over him, after all.”

   “Shut up!” Oikawa stomped back to his bed before calling out, “Just go to sleep!”

[sigmastolen]

sigma’s anti-chafing campaign: undersummers

yeah i know it’s been a year since i said i was doing this series and a year since i ordered all the things.  tbh this may end up being a two-post “series” bc y’all, undersummers are where it’s at.  i rate them a solid A grade and repeat purchases.

they call themselves “slipshorts” and are emphatic that they are Not Shapewear, which they truly aren’t.  (they also call themselves “shortlettes,” presumably bc they could trademark that word.)  wearing a slip has largely passed out of fashion, but the description is very accurate -- they’re made out of that same slippery, stretchyish poly-blend, just in a shorts-shape instead of a skirt- or dress-shape.  there is no seam on the inner thigh, so even less risk of irritation in sensitive areas.  the gusset is cotton-lined, so you don’t have to wear separate undies if you don’t wanna (i tried this for the first time yesterday and i was nervous at first but quickly forgot about it, plus no panty lines under the pencil skirt!  win).  there’s no compression, which is great bc who tf wants to spend ten minutes squeezing themselves into uncomfortable, non-breatheable shapewear in the summer when it’s hot and so humid you may as well have not bothered drying off after your shower and you’re going to be late to work if you have to spend that long putting on your foundation garments, amirite?  and they’re plus size-inclusive, ranging from small to 5x.

there are a few different styles: classic, which has an elastic waistband and a simple stitched hem; lace, which has stretch lace at both the waistband and hem (the waist lace panel is cloth-backed and v. wide); and fusion, which has the plain elastic waist and lace hems.  there are also four different inseam lengths: 6.5″, 7″, 9″, and 15″.  the shortlettes come in both Sensible and Fun color and print options.  they also offer athletic underwear (wide waistband, no lace), swim shorts, maternity shortlettes, leggings, and extra-long camisoles.

OF THE ONES I’VE TRIED, my personal preference is for the 9″ inseam in either the lace or fusion style.  i like the look of the lace waist panel, but it’s a little bulky -- the simple waistband of the fusion style is good for sleeker outfits.  i found that the simple hem on the classic style cut into my (extremely thunderous) thighs too much, so i definitely prefer the lace hem; i don’t know if they’ve changed this since my purchase, but the classic shortlette i have uses thread with zero give for the hem and for me, it’s simply unworkable.  if you have thinner or more sharply-tapered thighs, they’re probably okay.  as for the length -- again, if your thighs are more tapered toward the knee, the shorter lengths might be okay, but for me, they don’t offer enough coverage where i need it.

speaking of coverage, they also just give me a very valuable sense of security in my shorter skirts and dresses.  like, i’m pretty good at wearing dresses, i generally don’t find it a hardship not to flash the people around me.  however, some of my favorite dresses fall higher on me than they used to bc of weight gain and/or shrinkage, and while i don’t feel like they’re inappropriate for me to wear to work (yet), i’m also very glad not to worry about decency when i’m kneeling, crouching, or bending to find books, pick up toys, put paper in the xerox machine, or whatever.  it helps.

but sigma, you say, if the lace hem is stretchy, isn’t there a risk that it will ride up?  and yes, there is that risk, and sometimes it does.  full disclosure, i wore a pair on tuesday as well and had to retreat to the empty workroom to tug the hems back down my thighs several times.  i’ve found that the 9″ length stays put better than the shorter ones on me, and also that each pair i have behaves slightly differently in this regard.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

even when i dock points for the unforgiving classic hems and the riding-up issues, undersummers are by far my favorite way to combat summertime thigh-chafing (and, being that this is southern california, wintertime thigh-chafing, too).  they’re a little pricey at ~$30 a pair, but still much cheaper than any of my bras tbh, and in my opinion, well worth it.  good job, carrierae.

[sirius-archive]

Could I please have a young Sirius black x reader with the prompts 9, 14, 38 ,44 and 50? Thank you! I love your writing!

9. “You hurt her, I stab you, okay?”  14. “Take a deep breath and please calm the fuck down.”  38. “I need to punch something, preferably their face.” 44. “Don’t talk to me, I need coffee first.”  and 50. “Jesus Christ Godric Gryffindor, I forget how much I hate exercise.”

(Could you do29, 34 & 54 with Sirius ??) 29. “It’s too early for this, just go back to sleep.” 34. “You are so sweet, and I am so sorry.” 54. “I don’t know why I bother.”  

(Heyy could you do 26 and 9 with Sirius?) 26. “I’m not quite sure how it happened, but it did.” 

this is just one clusterfuck of Sirius prompts from cute nonnies who dropped them into my inbox. I hope you enjoy. p.s. soz its really late and I'm a lil drunk and i have to get up early tomorrow so the ending is a little rushed. sorry!

p.s.s. jealous!sirius, amirite?

Waiting for Sirius Black to ask you out is torture, and sometimes you feel like beating him to it, but that’s not how it works. You can’t jump to the end if you haven’t passed ‘Go’ yet. There were so many damn rules in this stupid game, and you have had enough. 

And, unfortunately for your friends, your impatience has manifested itself into a grouchy, grumpy mood. Stomping toward your table at the Great Hall, you hold up a hand to Mary and Marlene, who had both opened their mouths to greet you cheerily.  

“Don’t talk to me, I need coffee first,” you grumble, sinking into the seat beside Lily and pouring a cup of steaming, black coffee.

“She has her coffee black like her soul,” Marlene remarks, and Dorcas snorts into her cereal.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Lily carefully asks as she watches you take a sip of coffee.

“Just peachy,” you remark, your lips twisting into a sardonic smile.

“You’re in such a good mood today, I could hardly tell!” Emmeline quips, dryly, as she reaches across and snatches a piece of toast.

“Seriously, (Y/N), is something up?” Mary asks and you drop your spoon into your porridge.

“Can you please choose your words more carefully, I don’t want to be reminded of the problem.”

Flickers of confusion flit across the girls face, but Lily understands you immediately. As the girls resumed a tedious conversation about Quidditch (it was more like a heated debate between Marlene and Dorcas), Lily turns to you with sympathetic eyes.

“What did he do?” Lily murmurs.

“It’s what he didn’t do…” you grumble and Lily lets out a sigh, “I don’t know why I bother anymore, Lils. There have been millions of opportunities for Sirius to get his head out of his ass and ask me out but he just…maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn’t like me that way…”

“No, I think you’re wrong there,” Lily shakes her head pensively, “It is obvious that Sirius likes you, even James can see it.”

“You and your best friend James,” you grin and she slaps your shoulder.

“It’s not like that,” she insists, before adding, “And don’t change the subject. Look, I think Sirius is just hesitating for some reason…”

“Or, he’s just being a git.”

Lily bites her lip and nods. “Boys are gits. We should move to Iceland together and live in a log house.”

“That sounds more romantic than my love life,” you reply, with a sigh, “wish it was that easy.”  

“It can be!” Lily grins, “I can get the fake passports and everything,”  

“Yeah, but I don’t think these twits will be able to survive without us,” you quip, tossing a nod toward your four friends, “More specifically, without you.”

Lily snorts, shaking her head with a grin. Marlene and Dorcas have finally stopped bickering and Mary is gazing at the two of you suspiciously.

“What were you two talking about just then?” she asks, her brow raised.

“We’re illegally moving to Iceland, wanna come?” Lily remarks casually, like acquiring fake visas and committing fraud wasn’t as big as a deal as it should be. She pops her spoon into her mouth and hums around it.

“Iceland’s rather far,” says Mary, smashing her banana with her fork, “Besides, Marlene would go insane if she didn’t get any dick for more than three seconds,”

“One more word out of you and I’m punching you in the tit,” Marlene snaps, but a loose grin hangs from her lips.

“That’s why Dildo’s exist, Marlene” you retort, wearing a sly grin “So that you can get the D without the Dude.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun…” a voice says from behind you and you turn to find The Marauders standing behind you. James and Sirius wear matching smirks while Remus’ brows are knitted together and Peter is blushing bright red.

“It’s not supposed to be,” you reply, coolly, staring at Sirius as you say it, “Not for you, anyway.”

“Shame,” Sirius sighs, slinking into the seat beside you, “I was thinking if you weren’t busy…”

Was this it? 

You wait with bated breath as Sirius’ lips curl at their edges. And then a laugh burst from between them and tinkles in the air and your heart sink through your chest, hitting the ground with a hard slap.

Lily groans and face palms. Even James looked disappointed.

“Well, this is nice and all, but I’m going now,” you say, very quickly, collecting your books and rising from your seat.

“I just got here,” Sirius remarks, his arms spreading out beside him.

“Exactly!” you snap, mincing toward the door. You need to get out of here, away from Sirius and his stupid face and stupid eyes and–

“(Y/N)!”

Ignore him, he’s a twat

“(Y/N), wait!”You stop, expecting to find grey eyes imploring you to stay. Instead, you find brown eyes wide with nerves.

It’s Adam Bones. One of the cutest boys in school. You are completely speechless as a soft smile forms on his lips, ones that many girls dream of kissing.

“Oh, hey Adam,” you smile, trying to cover the flutter of nerves in your chest, “What’s up?”

“Well, as you know, there’s a Hogsmeade trip planned before Christmas and…well…I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me?”

You consider him, eyes sweeping over his boyish features dressed in blue and silver. You have been studying with Adam in Charms ever since Professor Flitwick assigned the two of you together. He really was cute but…Sirius…

“You are so sweet,” you sigh, “and I am so sorry…”

“I get it,” Adam shrugs, looking rather defeated, “Maybe another time?”

“(Y/N)?” You spin around at the sound of your name that has just left Sirius Blacks lips, “What’s going on?”

“You’ve met Adam, haven’t you?”

“Once,” Sirius eyes him with a wicked glare, “And that was enough for me.”

“Ignore him,” you drawl, “He’s got a medical condition called ‘being an asshole’, it’s incurable and he can’t help it.”

Adam smiles again, but this time it’s more strained, like he’s holding back something. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Why?” Sirius snaps, jaw clenched, “Why are you seeing (Y/N) tomorrow?”

“What are you, her keeper?” Adam scoffs and Sirius takes a step forward.

“Answer the damn question,” Sirius growls through a clenched jaw. Sirius is glaring fiercely at Adam, and you don’t have to ace Divination to know where this conversation is heading. You step between them and gently push on their chests with a light touch.

“Why don’t we all take a deep breath and calm the fuck down,” You snip.

Something flashes across Sirius’ face, anchoring him to the ground. He looks at you, his eyes darting over every stern line on your face, before he turns back to Adam, fierce aggression raging in his eyes.

“You hurt her, I stab you, okay?” He growls, a predators warning.

Adam’s eyes narrow on Sirius, maliciously. “Are you threatening me?”  

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Sirius grits, “and I always keep my promises.”

And just like that, Sirius storms away, fists curled at his sides like he wants to punch something.

Later that day, you were walking down the hallway towards the Library when you heard voices echoing from around the corner. It took you a moment to realise that it was Sirius and you were just about to turn in the opposite direction when you heard your name thrown into the conversation.

“I need to punch something, preferably his face.” Sirius roars, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.

“Is this about (Y/N)?” You hear Remus Lupin murmur, “Because if it is, it’s your own damn fault. You could’ve–”

“–but he didn’t,” James Potter finishes, “He should’ve–”

“–yet he didn’t.”

“Can you two stop talking about me like I’m not here? I’m aggressive and angry and I want to tear this school in half…”

“There’s a name for that,” James says, “it’s called Jealousy. And you wouldn’t be feeling this way if you had just–”

“–but you didn’t,” Remus interjects.

From your left, you hear footsteps echo down the hallway, and you start as they approach you at a rapid speed. Panicking, you step out into the hallway, catching the attention of the three Marauders who are lingering outside Filch’s office.

“(Y/N)” Sirius murmurs and you turn in the opposite direction, pacing away from him quickly. “(Y/N)! Wait up!”

You don’t slow down. You don’t even turn to look at him.

“(Y/N)!” he huffs, before adding, “Godric Gryffindor, I’ve forgotten how much I hate exercise…”

His dry wit manages to bring you to an abrupt stop and Sirius nearly crashes into you.

“You know, you were a real jerk to Adam before,” you snap and Sirius narrows his eyes.

“Adam was a jerk to begin with,” Sirius mutters, bitterly.

“You can’t say that, you don’t even know him.”

“Oh, but I do,” Sirius says, before adding, “are you sure you want to date someone you hardly know?”

You gape at him, “Adam and I aren’t dating,” you snap, “Besides, it’s none of your– look, it doesn’t matter. Just–Just go back to your friends and your ignorance before Filch comes, I thought I heard him just before,” you mumble, sourly, before leaving Sirius in a cloud of his own confusion.

It’s four in the morning when you wake up, and it’s not your alarm, but Sirius Black, standing at the foot of your bed and hissing your name.

“S-Sirius?” you murmur, groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he whispers, “we need to talk.”

“It’s too early for this, just go back to sleep,” you mutter, flopping flat on your stomach.

“No, (Y/N), I need to talk to you, please…” There is something in Sirius’ voice that is pleading with you, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say your name with such desperation before. You turn and squint at him. Every inch of his handsome face is etched with anxiety and washed with moonlight. He’s the only person you know to look so handsome while anxious.

“Okay,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes, “Okay, one sec.”

You slip out of the covers and pull your night gown on before following Sirius down the stairs and into the common room. He sinks into the couch, you sit beside him.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier,” he begins, sincerity weaves between his words, “I really am. I was a jerk and–”

“–It’s okay, Sirius,” you begin, “But I think Adam deserves the apology more than I do…”

Sirius winces, “I guess you’re right. But that’s not the only reason why I wanted to talk to you…” You gaze at Sirius curiously, watching as he screws his courage up and strings it into words, “I’ve been meaning to tell you this for months and I don’t know how to say it so…here it goes…”

Could this be it?

“(Y/N), I really like you…”

It is. Finally.

“… A lot. More than a lot, like I can’t even begin to describe how much I like you but anyway, the point is is that…I like you. I’m not quite sure how it happened, but it did. And then I realised, it’s always been you, all those other girls were just a distraction, because I thought you didn’t like me that way and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. And, well, I was wondering if–”

Sirius didn’t have the chance to finish, because you had leant forward and crashed your lips against his, as reckless as a tidal wave throwing itself against the shore. Sirius recovered quickly from his shock, and he began to kiss you back, his hands wrapping around your waist as you threw your arms around his neck. You moaned into the kiss as you felt the warmth of his lips crash over you, filling you up like golden sunlight. He tasted like redemption, like hope, like fresh rain trickling over your tongue. He is beautiful. And he is yours.

Finally, he was yours.