#also! back to your irregular art schedule
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winter is coming...
#i love the snow fairy birds theyre just so tiny...#also! back to your irregular art schedule#pokemon#submas#sbms#emmet#ingo#kudari#nobori#long tailed tit#fanart#digital art#pinky's gallery
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Hobie Brown Headcannons
I have some horrible brain rot for this man and I need to let it out somehow, so uh. Here you go ig.
Hobie Brown x gn!Reader
I think the whole fandom can agree when I say this man is Protective. Not in a suffocating way, no he would never, but in an observant way. He always has an eye on you and if you signal that you need his help he always, (and I mean always) comes in swinging. No one messes with his favorite person.
He’s generally pretty observant, but when it comes to you it seems like he’s somehow even more so. If you need help getting something off a high shelf he’s behind you getting it down for you with a small smirk and a kiss to the top of your head before you can even say anything. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re capable, he knows you are. His love language is just acts of service. And he loves you a lot.
He’ll also help you out in other ways. If you happen to be a person who gets a period he will know your schedule like the back of his hand. And if you’re cursed with irregular ones he’ll somehow know before you even do when you’re gonna start (spidey-sense anyone?). He’ll come prepped with your sanitary device of choice as well as chocolate, sweets, and anything else you may need.
On a similar theme this man is firm believer in cuddles. He needs them or else he is incapable of functioning. How is he supposed to go deal with idiots if he hasn’t received his dose of love? He can’t. That’s how.
As said previously this man is tall, (6’3) and fairly spindly too. When you cuddle this man is going to be wrapped around you like a pretzel. His arms will be around your waist, you can’t tell where your legs end and his begin, and your chests will be pressed up right next to one another. Good luck if you need to get up to pee. You will not be getting up until this man has woken up enough to realize what you’re trying to do. And even then probably not. Hope you have a bladder of steel cause you’ll be needing it.
When you do finally get this man out of bed, I can see him being the one to cook. He’s not a great chef by any means but he’s not half bad either. You won’t see him making anything fancy but he has perfected the art of simple yet delicious meals. I saw someone else head-cannon that this man makes a delicious oatmeal and I couldn’t agree more. This man makes the best oatmeal you’ve ever tasted.
On the note of food, dates! This man loves taking you out on the town, but only small locally owned places! No contributing to capitalism here! If you’re new to London you’re lucky cause you just scored yourself the best tour guide in town! He’ll show you all the best pubs, small ones tucked away in alleyways. Best places to watch the sun set over the skyline, hangout spots, picnics, this man knows it all and he will gladly share his knowledge with you!
After all is said and done and he’s done showing you around the city, chances are he’s gonna have to suddenly disappear on a… very long bathroom trip. What do you mean you saw Spider-Punk swinging by the window two seconds after he left? What a coincidence!
Seriously though, this man hates lying to you and will refrain from doing so in anyway he can. He might not outright tell you he’s spider-punk, but he won’t not tell you if that makes sense. I’ve seen multiple other people head-cannon that he’ll just leave little hints around and wait for you to connect the dots and I whole-heartedly agree. He knows that you’re smart and he has faith you’ll figure it out quickly.
Once you do figure it out and confront him a considerable weight has lifted from his shoulders. He hates hiding things from you, lying to you about why he disappears for considerable amounts of time. And now that you know he doesn’t have to!
In all seriousness be prepared to be awoken at 2am from tapping on your window. When you open it Hobie falls in, in his Spider-Punk suit, 12 different shades of black and blue and coated in blood. This happens multiple times a month. You’ll get used to it. Probably.
————
A/N: Welp first time writing for Hobie… Let me know what you think! I’m very unsure about his characterization. Although it’s very hard to write him well cause they gave him SO little screen time 😭 I’m in the trenches over here trying to do this man Justice.
#key writing#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#atsv x reader#hobie brown atsv#hobie x you#hobie brown#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie x reader#atsv fanfiction#atsv x you#spider punk#spiderverse#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk x you#Ughhhhh words cannot DESCRIBE how much I love him#This is just pure word vomit but I had to get it out
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Hey gang! DotS:MMM update!
I will preface: the comic is still live and shall continue at an irregular schedule until I can pull myself together and get back into the flow
Frankly I have not felt up to drawing and forcing myself into a grind. I need to pace myself and not feel like this is an obligation. I started feeling like I had to make pages to keep up the pace and not disappoint, but that started to really ebb at my enjoyment of making this comic
This is my hobby, and not my job. Nobody pays me to make these. I make this because I like it and want to tell a story. Something I have to constantly remind myself, despite the pressure of disappointing my readers with my inconsistency. These days I draw in bursts and end up losing my stamina because I become emotionally overwhelmed
My energy is still fickle. I'm bombarded with overwhelming negativity at home from various sources, including personal stress and depression caused by my current life situation. What I make to decompress shouldn't be a stresser either
I'll continue to chip away at finishing these pages for DotS:MMM Part One, but it will be at my own pace. I'll post again once I feel ready and satisfied enough with how many pages I have in hand. Deadlines stress me out and kill my motivation to draw. Again it makes me feel obligated to do this stuff, to make it instead of just being something I enjoy and have fun with
Also Orpheus decided to worm his way in, so now I have to rewrite some scripts to as well fix a tremendous continuity error that Orpheus has come in to correct. This man makes me rewrite everything, I swear omg
You'll see what I mean in later parts of DotS:MMM
Thank you guys as always for your patience! 💖
Additionally for you all, my Tumblr lovelies, I'll continue to answer asks! Might be able to squeeze in a sketch or two as I go, but goodness I have to constantly train myself to draw for fun and not treat it like work. Tumblr has been helping with that a lot
My previous following several years ago on dA used to pressure me into keeping up with my own content and would punish me with hateful comments if I didn't post art of their fave OC of mine often enough (yes my OWN oc, not a fan character), and UGHGHGH MAN. HEAVEN FORBID I posted a new design without some sort of specific ritual first, just up and dropped a new character like "hi hello this is bleebo blorbie my new baby blorbo kthx bye". They'd throw a fit over that too. Not everyone of course, but it was a lot of people
I was bullied by fans of my own original content 😭 you see why I do fan stuff these days
It wasn't even remotely done, didn't even have a comic or story; people lusted over my own designs. I felt like I had to finish a story that never wanted to be told just to make ends meet, to appease the unappeasable, and burnt myself out entirely on the series to where I had to scrap the whole thing.
Thankfully that's not the case anymore, with my current following being great and sweet, but on rare occasions a rare impatient reader will show themselves on dA specifically
I appreciate you guys being so chill and kind to me throughout this year 😭 Tumblr gang I've always loved y'all. I haven't felt at home on a site in so long
#blazin beeps#dots news#dots comic#dots:mmm#I've been in a creative rut for months#it's been pretty rough on my productivity#I've been slowly getting better and getting out of it in the past couple of weeks#getting back onto fixing up mainline DotS too#things are slowly coming back together#just need to stitch it back into place
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Tell it to my heart
Here's to the one with the scorching stare of love, blood, and vengeance. Eyes killer cold, blue and bare.
pairing: Gojo Satoru x f! reader AU - Mafia
warnings: angst, implied abuse, injuries, blood, alcohol, death, suicide, drug usage, addict, recovery, smut, gore, violence, trauma, guns, abuse, sex, overstimulation, rape threats, murder
Author’s note: This fanfiction is going to be a slow-build story with an irregular upload scheme. I am not sure when I will be able to update. I might upload multiple chapters in a single week or not upload for a few weeks. It depends on what my daily schedule is, and it is very dynamic. This story is for a mature audience and will have a lot of problematic themes. If this is triggering to you, please refrain from interacting with this story. The content warning is for the entire story and not just for this chapter. Again, I cannot emphasize enough, that this is a slow-burn story. In this story, you will find some changes in mannerisms among characters. Gojo Satoru will be smoking and drinking. Yuji and Sukuna will be 2 different people but are related by blood. The main reason is, that I do not see Yuji being part of a Mafia unless he had no other choice. The cursed spirits will be human in appearance.
Notes for this chapter: TRIGGER WARNINGS – PTSD OF ABUSE
<< Previous chapter | CHAPTER LIST
art credits - @neverwho_art on Instagram (i added a b&w filter on top of it to fit the theme of this chapter)
Chapter 13 – Hollow
You were sweating bullets even though the AC was set to cool the room down. It felt like you ran a marathon when in reality your tremors were the ones triggering your sweat. You had already thrown up a couple of times in the past few hours. Your nose was dripping and you wiped it off with a tissue. Shoko had cleaned all your wounds and treated your burns. She said it would take a few days for the soles of your feet to recover. Your nails would probably take a couple of months to fully grow back. The withdrawal was painful. You had been through this multiple times already but it was still painful. Every muscle in your body ached. All you wanted was some relief and there was only one way to get it. You were hooked to an IV as you were severely dehydrated and malnourished. You were given electrolytes every few hours. You were advised to rest as much as you could but sleep was not peaceful. You kept waking up every now and then. You found Yuji sleeping on the floor. The boy had not left your side ever since Shoko was done treating you. He tended to your every need.
You also had Sukuna visit you. He was mad at you. Mad at himself.
“What were you thinking???” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Utahime was in danger… I had to-”
“You had to tell me that the Zenin prick was going to put you up to this. I would have had this handled. Look at what they have done to you.” He shakes his head.
You begged him to take a picture of you. You wanted to see what you had been through. Although it scared you, you needed to see what they’d subjected you to. When he handed you his phone to show you the picture, you barely recognized the person you saw staring back at you. You were clad in a simple loose gown similar to the ones you could find in a hospital. You were covered in bandages. Your hair was matted and your eyes were covered by dark circles. You had lost a lot of weight. But what caught your attention was that your eyes were devoid of any emotion. They were hollow. It felt like you were looking at a stranger.
“It’s not that bad…” Yuji tried to reassure you.
You just nod and hand the phone back to Sukuna.
The next time you were asleep, you were woken up by someone’s footsteps entering your room. Your body was now tuned to wake up at the slightest of disturbances.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He looked alarmed. His blue eyes still had the same gravity that they did before. His hair was more skewed than usual.
“Satoru…” You whispered. He was here. He was okay. Your eyes quickly scan him for any serious injuries.
“Hello… ” He rubbed the back of his head.
“Strawberry Haze… that is the password.” You quickly blurt out.
“I am sorry, what?” He looked genuinely confused.
“Geto… He wanted a password from me. I think it was for a warehouse. I overheard Mahito and him talk about it. The password to the warehouse is strawberry haze… Asami texted it to me when she was going to see me. She also mentioned it when we met. I mean, why would she want a very specific strain of weed if she was short on her usual drugs? I don’t know where this warehouse is but I am willing to bet on it that the password is Strawberry Haze.” You pause to catch your breath. You didn’t remember the last time you spoke so much.
“So that is why he captured you.” He sits on the edge of your bed.
“That is why he kept me alive. He genuinely believed I knew it.” You sit up and lean your back against the headrest.
“Alive? Hah!” Gojo closes his eyes shut. “I wouldn’t call it being alive. I went through Miguel’s report that Yuta gave me.” He clenched his fist tightly.
“You’re right.” You looked out the window. You had asked for the bed to be placed near the window. You hadn’t seen the sun or the stars in two and a half months. “Death would have been merciful. But I think I deserved it.”
“Are you out of your mind!?” Gojo snapped.
“Maybe…” You sighed. “So many people had to suffer because of me. My parents, Nanami, Utahime, some of your men whose name I’ll probably never know, and even you.” A tear slipped from your eye as you spoke. “It was only a matter of time that Karma got to me. Can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.” Gojo crosses his arms as he pulls his legs on top of your bed.
“Why did you rescue me from there? For all you knew, I could have been a rat. I could have told them everything I knew. You had no reason to get me out of there.” You look at him.
“No reason? Really? How about rescuing a friend? Is that a good enough reason?” Gojo looked offended. “You may not believe it but all of us here consider you as a part of our group. Shoko, Sukuna… hell, Utahime blamed herself and stepped down from the triad. Megumi wasn’t sleeping properly. Yuji was a mess. Shoko and Sukuna used all their connections to find any information about you. I… I was shocked to learn about you. About Nanami and you. I woke up only to find that I lost two more friends.” He looked you in the eye. “If I didn’t bring you back, Nanami’s sacrifice would have been in vain. If someone knew you, they’d know you’re no rat. And even if you did leak some information, it wouldn’t have mattered. I would have still done anything in my capabilities to bring you back. I made a promise to keep you safe.”
“Gojo…”
“I failed to keep my promise. It was my mistake. I failed to foresee a lot of things.” He grits his teeth. “The SnK will pay. They will pay for every person they’ve taken from the triad. They will pay for Nanami and they will pay for you.” He tries to hold your hand. You flinch a little but you hold his hand. He looks at your fingers and back at you. His eyes looked like a pool of crystal blue. “Fuck…”
You pull your hand back and curl your fingers. Your fingers without nails looked disgusting. You felt like a freak. “They’ll grow back.” You mumble.
“That’s not the point.” He growls. “Who did that to you?”
“It doesn’t matter. There are far too many scars to hold him accountable for.” You shake your head.
“We can get rid of the scars. I know the best doctors who – ”
“No! No… I am not going to get rid of them. I need to remember. I need to.” You insist.
“(Y/N)… You –”
“I have to Gojo. Please.” You plead.
He sighs and nods. “Fine! Fineeee….”
“Gojo…?” You look down this time, hesitant to talk to him.
“Hm?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Do… Do you… have a cigarette?”
“Um… I do… but peach, I don’t think it is a good idea for you to be smoking now.” He reaches out to you. As he places his palm on your cheek, you flinch a little. “I am not going to hurt you.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb.
You nod as you gulp down the lump in your throat. He called you peach. It felt like it was forever ago. “Sorry, it is just an instinctive reaction.”
“Shh… You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand, (Y/N).”
You take a deep breath as you feel fatigued. After all, you were woken up from your sleep.
“I am going to get some rest, Gojo. If that’s fine with you.”
“Of course. You don’t have to ask me… Is it okay if I stayed here for a while?” He pulls his hand away and places it on his lap.
You nod and slide down to lay on your bed. You close your eyes and try to regulate your breathing. As you nod off, you hear Gojo whisper. “I am going to make him pay. I am going to make them pay.”
---------------------------------------
You were able to walk within a week. Your soles had healed enough for you to take small steps and walk around your room. You’d also start wearing your own clothes. You noticed how loose they’d become. They barely fit you anymore.
You looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes still seemed hollow. Dark circles around your eyes were prominent due to the lack of color on your face. Your hair was a matted mess. You find a pair of scissors in the cabinet beside the mirror. You take the scissors and began to chop off the parts that were heavily damaged and matted. All you could hear was the snipping of the scissors. The cut was uneven but it wasn’t visibly bad.
You were surrounded by the hair when you place the scissors back in the cabinet. You look at all the hair and your heart breaks. You weren’t particularly attached to your hair but seeing so much hair on the floor felt like you cut off your old former self. She was gone. Gone for good. You fall on your knees and cry. You cry as you grab strands of hair on the floor.
“(Y/N)… We have an idea and Shoko approved – (Y/N)…?” You hear Yuji pauses as he sees you on the bathroom floor with the door wide open. He was followed by Megumi, Sukuna and Gojo.
“(Y/N)!!” Gojo rushes to your side and kneels beside you. “Are you okay? Is something hurting? Call Shoko!” He looks at Sukuna.
“N-No… I- I am fine…” You wipe the snot off your nose. “It’s – It’s all gone…” You look at all the hair around you.
Gojo wraps his arms around you. “Hey… Hey… It’ll grow back. It’ll be alright. Don’t worry about it. You look just as beautiful with this length as well.” He grabs a strand of your hair.
“Yeah, (Y/N). This length suits you!!” Yuji approaches you. He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to you.
You take the handkerchief from him and wipe your eyes. You use Gojo as a support to stand up. “I am sorry… that was… stupid.” You sniffle.
“Naah. What was stupid was trying to chop your own hair.” Sukuna rolls his eyes. “We could have just arranged a hairdresser for you, ya know.”
“Sukuna!” Yuji glares at him.
“What?” He growls.
“You’re an idiot.” Yuji shakes his head.
You giggle looking at their banter. Everyone pauses as they notice you giggling.
“That is the first time we heard you giggle ever since you came back,” Gojo explains as confusion reigns over you.
You ignore the statement and compose yourself. It was probably the first time you giggled after Melbourne. When was the last time you smiled? You didn’t know. You compose yourself. “You guys had an idea?”
“Oh yeah!! Since the weather is so nice and everything, we thought that we should have a picnic in the backyard.” Yuji grins.
“A picnic?” You raise your eyebrows
“Yeah… You could use some sunlight… I mean, when was the last time you were outside?” Sukuna leans against the wall.
“Oh… Okay, what should I do?” You dry your eyes with the kerchief.
“Oh, you’re doing nothing. Just leave it all to Sukuna and me!” Yuji grins. “Come on Sukuna, let’s get things ready!!!” He dashes out of the room.
“I swear to god, this brat treats me more like a butler than a brother,” Sukuna grumbles and follows him.
“Come with me, let’s fix your hair.” You feel Gojo’s hand on your back and you flinch.
“Sorry!” You apologize for your reaction. “You’re a hairdresser now?”
“You’d be surprised with what I can do.” He smiles softly at you. He walks out of the bathroom to grab a stool from the dressing table. He places it in front of you. “Take a seat.”
You sit down as he slowly combs through your hair with his long, slender fingers. Your body trembles involuntarily. Another human touching you without malicious intent felt alien to you. You hear the snipping of the scissors and you jump a little in your seat. You feel his hand rub your back, reassuring you.
“It’s okay. You’re okay now, (Y/N). No one here wants to hurt you.” His voice was warm.
“I know… I know…” You take deep breaths to calm yourself.
In about 20 minutes, Gojo was done. You look at your reflection in the mirror. He’d done a much better job than you had. Everything was evenly cut.
“Thank you.” You smile at him. “For everything. I owe you a lot.”
“Hm? Naah. You don’t.” He messes your hair. “(Y/N)…”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing..” He shakes his head.
“What is it, Gojo?” You knew he wanted to say something.
“Can I…” He clenches his fist… “Can I hug you? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“O-okay, yeah.. I mean… You can hug me.” You shift awkwardly.
He closes the distance between the two of you as his arms wrap around you. You inhale the familiar scent of his cologne and shampoo. Still tense in his embrace, you feel him relax against you as he pulls you closer to him.
“I am.. I am so sorry, peach. I was an asshole to you when I last saw you. I was unnecessarily mean.” You feel him shiver. Your arms wrap around reaching his back. You stroke his back.
“Satoru… Shh…”
“I was scared… So scared because that bastard almost caught you. For the first time, it felt like someone pulled the rug from under my feet. I understood the gravity of bringing you into my world. I needed to act fast and get you away from all of this. So my fucked up solution was to push you away.” You feel him hug you tighter. “But it was all useless in the end. They got to you. They…” You feel him heaving against you.
“Satoru… listen to me..” You hold on to him. “In the end, it was my choice. I walked into it myself.”
“I don’t know why I was so scared to lose you… I thought you were gone. Like Nanami.” He slowly pulls himself away from you and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "It might have been your choice but it could have been avoided had I been better prepared. Had I not been overconfident, I could have.... I would have.... What were you thinking, (Y/N)??? Do you not know what you mean to m- us?? Do you think Yuji would have continued to live the way he was knowing what you had done? The boy was this close to joining the triad to find you. You think Sukuna would be okay with the guilt of letting Naoya get to you?? Or Utahime would be okay with you dying in her place? We told you that you are family. You think I would -" He takes a deep breath to calm himself. "Do you think I would have been okay knowing that I couldn't keep my promise? What do you think would happen to us all if you died, peach???"
“Yuta saved me before that could happen. I am alive. I am here.” You hold his hand. "You came through. You lived up to your promise." You gently squeeze his palm. "I thought dying was an easy way out. But knowing what I know now, I am not ready to die Satoru. I know I belong here, with you... I mean with the triad." You correct yourself.
“Don’t ever do that again.” He squeezes your hand back. “I mean it. I will drag your ass back and lock you in a room. Heck, I nearly wanted to do it this time.”
“Message received, boss.” You chuckle dryly.
He raises your chin gently with his fingertips and places his lips on yours. Your lips part as you savor the warm touch. You remembered this feeling all too well. You felt safe, you felt like you belonged here. You felt at home.
#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo sensei#gojo x reader#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#jjk smut#nanami kento#gojo saturo#jujutsu gojo#yuuji#jujutsu kaisen#gojo jjk#gojo jujutsu kaisen#gojo fanfic#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo angst#gojo satoru fanfic
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At Smile Studio Orthodontics, cutting-edge technology is seamlessly integrated into their practice. It ensures accurate diagnoses, personalized treatment plans, and optimal results. Backed by a team of highly skilled orthodontists, Smile Studio Orthodontics combines years of experience with a passion for transforming smiles. Whether you have crooked teeth, misalignment issues, or other orthodontic concerns, the dedicated professionals at Smile Studio Orthodontics have the expertise to devise solutions that best suit your needs.
Braces: Traditional and Beyond
For those requiring traditional orthodontic treatment, Smile Studio Orthodontics offers a range of high-quality braces options. These include metal, ceramic, and lingual braces, providing practical solutions for correcting tooth misalignment. Additionally, they offer Invisalign braces, a popular choice among those seeking a discreet orthodontic option. Invisalign aligners are virtually invisible and removable and provide the flexibility to enjoy your favorite foods while achieving a straighter smile.
Wild Smile Braces: Unleash Your Personality
Smile Studio Orthodontics understands that orthodontic treatment is not just about achieving functional alignment but also expressing your individuality. With Wild Smile braces, patients can choose from various fun and unique designs, allowing their personalities to shine through their smiles. The endless possibilities, from colorful shapes to patterns, make the orthodontic journey an exciting and personalized experience.
Laser Gum Recontouring: Enhancing Your Smile's Aesthetics
If you're seeking to improve the appearance of your gums, Smile Studio Orthodontics offers laser gum recontouring. This minimally invasive procedure precisely sculpts the gum line, addressing issues such as a gummy smile or uneven gums. Smile Studio Orthodontics can create a harmonious balance between your teeth and gums by reshaping the gums, resulting in a more aesthetically pleasing smile.
Phase I Treatment: Nurturing Young Smiles
Smile Studio Orthodontics recognizes the importance of early intervention for specific orthodontic issues. Their Phase I treatment approach focuses on correcting dental irregularities in children to prevent potential complications in the future. By identifying and addressing concerns early, Smile Studio Orthodontics helps lay the foundation for a lifetime of healthy, confident smiles.
Temporary Anchoring Devices: Ensuring Efficient Treatment
Smile Studio Orthodontics utilizes temporary anchoring devices (TADs) to optimize treatment outcomes. These small, temporary implants provide additional support to move teeth more effectively and efficiently. TADs enhance the precision of orthodontic treatment, reducing the duration and complexity of the overall process.
Conclusion
Smile Studio Orthodontics should be your top choice if you're searching for a trustworthy orthodontist in Katy, TX. Their advanced technology, comprehensive range of orthodontic services, and expert team make them an exceptional orthodontic choice. From traditional braces to Invisalign, Wild Smile braces to laser gum recontouring, and Phase I treatment to temporary anchoring devices, Smile Studio Orthodontics has all the tools to help you achieve a radiant, confident smile. Schedule your consultation today and embark on a transformative orthodontic journey with Smile Studio Orthodontics.
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Dental Braces Treatment: Dental Square
Introduction:
A beautiful smile can boost your confidence and leave a lasting impression. However, misaligned teeth or malocclusion can often hinder the achievement of that perfect smile. Luckily, advancements in orthodontic treatments have made it possible to correct dental irregularities effectively. One such popular treatment is dental braces, and at Dental Square, we offer comprehensive dental braces treatment that can transform your smile. Let's dive into the world of dental braces and explore how Dental Square can help you achieve a smile you've always dreamed of.
Understanding Dental Braces & Tooth Extraction:
Dental braces, also known as orthodontic braces, are devices designed to align and straighten teeth, improving both their appearance and functionality. Best dentist for tooth extraction of brackets, wires, and bands that work together to apply gentle pressure to the teeth, gradually shifting them into their desired positions. This treatment is suitable for a wide range of dental concerns, including crowded teeth, gaps between teeth, overbites, underbites, and crossbites.
Why Choose Dental Square for Dental Braces Treatment?
Expert Orthodontists: At Dental Square, we have a team of experienced orthodontists who specialize in dental braces treatment. They possess extensive knowledge and expertise in orthodontics, ensuring that you receive the highest quality care.
Customized Treatment Plans: We understand that every patient's dental needs are unique. Our orthodontists tailor treatment plans according to your specific requirements, considering factors such as the severity of misalignment, jaw structure, and age.
Advanced Technology: Dental Square is equipped with state-of-the-art technology and modern dental equipment. Our advanced tools aid in precise diagnostics, treatment planning, and the application of braces, ensuring optimal results.
Range of Braces Options: We offer a variety of braces options to suit individual preferences and requirements. From traditional metal braces to clear ceramic braces and discreet lingual braces, our orthodontists will guide you in choosing the best option for your orthodontic journey.
Comprehensive Care: At Dental Square, we provide comprehensive care throughout the entire treatment process. From initial consultations and examinations to regular adjustments and follow-ups, our team is committed to delivering a seamless experience.
Friendly and Welcoming Environment: We understand that dental visits can sometimes be intimidating. That's why we strive to create a warm and friendly environment where you can feel relaxed and comfortable during your visits to Dental Square.
Embark on Your Journey to a Beautiful Smile:
If you're ready to transform your smile and boost your confidence, Dental Square is here to help. Our dedicated team of orthodontists, along with our commitment to personalized care and advanced treatments, make us the perfect choice for dental braces treatment. Contact Dental Square today to schedule a consultation and take the first step towards achieving a straighter, healthier, and more radiant smile.
Conclusion:
Dental braces treatment at Dental Square offers a reliable and effective solution for correcting dental irregularities. With the expertise of our orthodontists, advanced technology, and a welcoming environment, Dental Square is dedicated to helping you achieve the smile you've always desired. Don't let misaligned teeth hold you back. Visit Dental Square and embark on your journey to a perfect smile today.
Read more blogs:
#best dentist for root canal treatment#best clinic for dental implants#dental braces treatment#dental clinic roorkee
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Orthodontic Treatment in Belleville, NJ
Orthodontic treatment is a popular solution for people who want to straighten their teeth and achieve a beautiful smile. At Smiles by Lorino, we provide high-quality Orthodontic Treatment in Belleville, NJ. Our team of experienced orthodontists uses advanced techniques and state-of-the-art equipment to help you achieve the smile of your dreams. This article will discuss our orthodontic treatment services and how they can benefit you.
What is Orthodontic Treatment?
Orthodontics is a branch of dentistry that focuses on correcting irregularities in the teeth and jaw. Orthodontic treatment can fix various problems, including crooked teeth, overcrowding, overbite, underbite, and other issues that affect the alignment of the teeth and jaw. Orthodontic treatment can also help improve the teeth and jaw function, making it easier to speak, eat, and chew.
Types of Orthodontic Treatment
There are several types of orthodontic treatment available to patients, including traditional braces, Invisalign, lingual braces, and self-ligating braces. Traditional braces use metal or ceramic brackets and wires to shift teeth into their desired position gradually. Invisalign are a series of clear, removable trays that are virtually invisible and can be removed for eating and brushing. Lingual braces are similar to traditional braces but are attached to the back of the teeth, making them a discreet option. Self-ligating braces use a specialized clip instead of elastic bands, reducing pressure on the teeth and making treatment more comfortable. Each type of orthodontic treatment has its benefits and drawbacks, and the best option for you will depend on your individual needs and preferences.
Benefits of Orthodontic Treatment
Orthodontic treatment can provide a range of benefits for patients of all ages, including:
Improved Oral Health: Straight teeth are easier to clean and maintain, which can reduce the risk of tooth decay, gum disease, and other oral health problems.
Enhanced Appearance: A straight, healthy smile can boost confidence and self-esteem.
Better Bite Alignment: Orthodontic treatment can correct bite problems, such as overbite, underbite, and crossbite, improving your ability to chew and speak.
Reduced Risk of Dental Trauma: Misaligned teeth can increase your risk of dental trauma, such as chipping or breaking a tooth. Orthodontic treatment can help protect your teeth from damage.
Conclusion
If you're looking for orthodontic treatment in Belleville, NJ, Smiles by Lorino can help you achieve a straighter, healthier smile. With various orthodontic treatments available and a commitment to high-quality care, Dr. Lorino and his team can help you achieve the smile of your dreams. Contact us today to schedule a consultation and learn more about how orthodontic treatment can benefit you.
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𝙄𝙙𝙤𝙡 𝘾𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝! [𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩]
PAIRING: idol! yang jungwon x idol! female reader
GENRE: social media au | fluff | hopeless pining | slowburn
TROPE: idols falling in love au.
SYNOPSIS: Y/N knew that once she and her group, IKONIC, finally debuted, there'd be a chance that she'd run into YANG JUNGWON: The leader of the global rookie group ENHYPEN. But JUNGWON isn't just the leader of a famous 4th gen boy group... he's also the boy that she confessed to three years ago and got rejected by. The last thing Y/N needs to do is fall back in like with him, because even something as simple as an idol crush! could bring about some unwanted drama and Dispatch worthy headlines.
DISCLAIMER : This smau is purely fiction (as in, everything about it is completely made up).
RELEASE DATE: 16/02/22
UPDATE SCHEDULE: irregular updates
[TAGLISTS] : All three taglists are now CLOSED❗
CHAPTER LIST + PROFILES:
IKONIC | ENHYPEN | EXTRAS
ONE: Y/N ?? as in THE Y/N ??
TWO: the ynwon dilemma
THREE: jungwon, who's yn?
FOUR: a trip to the past: yn's confession
FIVE: BREAKING NEWS
SIX: 4th gen weirdos
SEVEN: Veronica Veronica open the door please
EIGHT: jungwon💞 (platonic)
NINE: never beating the solo stan allegations
TEN: see you soon
ELEVEN: pack it up won
TWELVE: start over
THIRTEEN: bro what the hell was that?
FOURTEEN: current loml💞
FIFTEEN: Y/N💓
SIXTEEN: now wot is this?
SEVENTEEN: the offer
EIGHTEEN: not good
NINETEEN: who tf are the sources??
TWENTY: this was not happening
TWENTY ONE : think about the team
TWENTY TWO: it's official
TWENTY THREE: how is this your life?? 😭💔
TWENTY FOUR: ...letters?
TWENTY FIVE: the confrontation
TWENTY SIX: IKONIC-2
TWENTY SEVEN: jungwon has a gf (new entry)
TWENTY EIGHT: breaking my silence
TWENTY NINE: the plan
THIRTY: ain't that y/n's group?
THIRTY ONE: user1104
THIRTY TWO: jonghoe from ateez
THIRTY THREE: they're trending again??
THIRTY FOUR: the vibes
THIRTY FIVE: I'm choosing rock
THIRTY SIX: The letter
THIRTY SEVEN: please say sike
THIRTY EIGHT: to be fair you guys are still nugu
THIRTY NINE: now or never
FORTY: jealousy, jealousy
FORTY ONE: 6 member gg curse strikes again
FORTY TWO: wonyoung the wing(wo)man
FORTY THREE: please stop peer preassuring me
FORTY FOUR: The Art of Pulling Bitches
FORTY FIVE: that dog looks exactly like maeumi
FORTY SIX: make it official bro
EPILOGUE: Final
TAGLISTS
[TAGLIST #1]: @acciomylove @mitsukifilms @ncityy04 @ja4hyvn @navsnct @hwalllllllelujah @shit-idek-meself-at-this-point @lullabyinparis @masterofdoom @enhacolor @mochisnlix @hiqhkey @vlykai @pshwyfie @hyuka-luvbot @yvesismywife @one16core @en-boyz @moon-lys @liliansun @jungwoniie @spicynlong @ramenais @bigtoewinwin @catbitchh111 @c9tnoos @missmadwoman @haoreo @doodlewon @enhaswab @alyselenai @moasworld @yyunari @chirokookie @yjwfav @kyutekyuala @giyyuzz @andromedawillburryyou @tlnyjoong @sarahxy537 @darlinluvsu @fairycheol @love-4-keum @ohmy-fandoms @yyunari @centheodd @mavlogist @jungwonnieee @emoworu
[TAGLIST #2]: @lil-iva @junqwonni @dinosdance @nyfwyeonjun @harperwasstaken1 @rrvvby @itsjynop @lunaflvms @jwsflower @sweetjaemss @yelenalestrange @suspixious @lovelymura @kyoyangwon @axolotlboo @jjiaaww @yjwnoot @stopeatread @angel-hyuckie @hestia-my-love @ahnneyong @sunooslayes @jayxxace @caty-catts @blaaiissee @yeonjunsleftboob @pinkraindropsfell @ashxsmoon @prttychnhee @mellifluousvn @hokuuusk @ae3ther @imsoluvlyyy @strwberrydinosaur @daintysan @luvvelxy @haintani @theandrogynisticcat @cosmiseo @sophlagrace @drakensfavoritegirl @pluviophilefangirl @yeletbz @luvlykeii @layzfeelit @blossomnct @xtra-cheese @jyparkdeeznutz @enhypenslay @xrubyrosesx
[TAGLIST #3]: @rionah @beomgyuscool @flower-lise @injngg @iloveoceaneyes @kange3939 @pshchives @prettysung @dreamenvi @kkalechip @cwsana @sstarrysshit @artstaeh @dokduck @reinahwanggg @uwudaizy @arizejkt19 @wonieleles @kaislovergirl @seongwin @srirachibi @esther-kpopstan @woncheecks @raikea10 @highlightsonmyheart @wackytobaccy @soobsdior @taeyun @siamiese-y @moremilkforkags @blurredplatform @han8ul @itssnootmayya @mandapanda16
[CLOSED]
#and we're back with a wonnie idol fic!! 😙🤩#IdolCrush! 💞#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen yang jungwon#yang jungwon x reader#yang jungwon#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon fluff#jungwon fluff#enhypen x idol reader#enhypen x you#enhypen social media au#enhypen smau
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— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.
PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader
REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy
WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story
NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty
WC: 5.4k+
The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.
Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.
Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.
He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.
You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.
“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”
“Yeah!”
“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”
“Yeah!”
“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”
“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”
He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”
“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”
“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”
“I know.”
“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.
Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.
“What exactly do you know about this industry?”
“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”
The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”
“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”
“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”
“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”
“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”
“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”
“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”
“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.
Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”
It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.
You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!
“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”
“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”
“Fushiguro Megumi.”
“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”
“You trying to say something?”
You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”
Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.
You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.
Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.
The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.
He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.
“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”
“Oh, thank you. You are...?”
“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.
“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”
Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.
“Whoa, you made all this?!”
Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”
At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”
“You can – if you book an appointment.”
“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.
“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”
“Why not?”
“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”
You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”
That was the biggest lie of your life.
The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.
You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.
And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.
In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.
“Hey, Y/N, you free?”
You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.
“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”
“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”
You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.
He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.
It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.
“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”
“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.
Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.
“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”
“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.
Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.
You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?
“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.
“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”
“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”
“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”
“Something wrong with that?”
“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”
“Sukuna?”
“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”
“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.
Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”
He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”
“How sweet of you.”
“Shut up.”
You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.
He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.
You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.
Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.
Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.
You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.
One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.
Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”
Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.
“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”
“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”
Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”
“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.
It was now or never.
“Can I see your tattoos too?”
“Why do you want to see them?”
“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”
“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”
“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.
“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”
Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”
“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.
A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.
You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”
Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”
You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.
“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”
“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”
“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”
Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”
“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”
“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”
“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.
You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.
Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places. “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”
“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”
“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.
Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”
“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”
“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”
“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.
A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.
He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.
You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”
“Intense?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.
“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”
“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.
Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”
“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.
Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.
“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”
“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”
He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.
“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”
#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#fushiguro megumi x reader imagines#fushiguro megumi#megumi x reader imagines#fushiguro megumi x reader romance#fushiguro megumi x reader fluff#megumi x reader romance#megumi x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen romance#jujutsu kaisen fushiguro megumi#feral megumi#suki: 500 milestone event
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Entertainment Spotlight: Bianca Bosch, The Kissing Booth 2
Bianca made her feature film debut in Netflix’s global hit franchise The Kissing Booth as the flirtatious and fun-loving Olivia, leader of The OMG’s, which she reprised in The Kissing Booth 2. She will next appear in the third installment of the franchise—The Kissing Booth 3, slated to debut in 2021. Born and raised on the eastern cape of South Africa, Bianca started ballet at just four years old and trained and competed in high-level contemporary dance until she was 19. A small role in a production of Evita solidified her passion for bringing characters to life, which she followed to The New York Film Academy and the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Bianca is passionate about giving back to her local communities in St. Frances Bay and Port Elizabeth, South Africa, and hopes to inspire women of all ages and from all walks of life to go after their dreams and heal those who need it, with strength, wisdom, and empathy.
What do you find exciting about portraying Olivia?
When people first meet me, they always sum me up as the bubbly, dramatic, ditzy blonde, and don’t anticipate my intellectual aptitude. They also soon realise that I’m super laid back, easy-going, and value a great sense of humour. Many people always say my exterior doesn’t match the interior. With portraying Olivia, I got to push those qualities that people assume I am at face value, as well as those mannerisms that come naturally to me, but are actually far from who I really am. It was so much fun living in that heightened, exaggerated bubble.
Can you tell us anything about Olivia’s development between the first and third installments of The Kissing Booth?
Being the “it girl” of the school, Olivia knows all the gossip going down and will not let any information slip past her because she is the ring leader, and has to have a first peek at any potential. As the story evolves, you see a softer, more supportive side to her, for example, when she cheers on Ollie and Miles as they have their first kiss at the kissing booth.
Which character from The Kissing Booth do you personally identify with most, and why?
I identify mostly with Elle. Navigating relationships can be hard and confusing, especially when the person you love lives far away. Having faith in your relationship and in yourself is important, but not always easy. I have been through those doubts and dilemmas. At the end of the day, communication and respect are vital to making a long-distance relationship work.
Alongside acting, you train in Vinyasa Yoga and Reiki, while also running a lighting/interior design business called MOODMAKERS. How do you cope with wearing so many hats?
I’ve got to keep up with my lifestyle somehow! Obviously, with acting, you’re not always employed and shooting. You might constantly be auditioning, but it’s been said that you book 1 in 25 auditions—so in between, someone has to pay the bills! Why not incorporate jobs that are already a part of my daily routine and always will be?! Plus, I find that the busier I am, the more I actually get done. Educating and practicing Reiki and Vinyasa yoga are more hobbies than jobs for me; plus, they all coincide with wellbeing and creativity.
Do you have any advice for young women who would like to become entrepreneurs themselves?
You have to think about your individual strengths and potentially use those to fill a gap in the market by providing a good or service. In my case, it was a product, in the form of a portable light. The opportunity in South Africa was the inconvenience of load shedding, which refers to rolling blackouts that occur due to the lack of electricity in our country. My father is an interior designer, so being surrounded by design my whole life sparked the idea to provide a stylish solution with portable, rechargeable lamps.
How do your experiences as a dancer influence your acting work?
I feel very in tune with my body, and every character needs their own physicality. So it helps me to sink into and develop the character’s mannerisms. Not only is it great for keeping correct alignment while staying physical, but also it provides discipline through general practice.
You engage in charity work in your hometown, can you tell us a bit about that?
Well, recently, with COVID-19, volunteer work has changed with social distancing in place. I believe charity starts at home, and home for me is in Saint Francis Bay. So, we’ve shifted focus to the local townships’ impoverished areas. We coordinated and prepared meals once a week and delivered them to the local soup kitchen for as many residents as possible. After going there each week and seeing the living conditions, and how excited these families were for their meals, I felt guilty but also so appreciative to come home and live the life I do.
How do you practice being an ally, and what does your allyship mean to you?
It means being a part of something bigger than yourself. My mission statement is to inspire young girls to go after their dreams, not only through my own actions and successes but also by mentoring them in person where possible. Being an ally also means being committed to educating myself on struggles that differ from my own experience and standing up for others in unjust situations.
How can mental and physical wellbeing and self-care help to sustain creative work?
I think physicality, mental health, and self-care are as vital as working on your acting skills. This career path takes dedication and perseverance. Keeping grounded in the madness and focused on your goal is crucial. This industry is tough on your body, especially when you’re working long hours on set or doing back-to-back night shoots. It’s not the usual 9-5 job. Plus, you want to be looking and feeling your best for the camera. You need to promote wellbeing for concentration and maximum performance. Having irregular sleeping patterns due to shooting schedules throws off your circadian rhythm, which can have a huge effect on your adrenals, which ultimately affects your skin, moods, and weight. You want to feed your body with the best nutrients, so when the tough times come, your immune system holds up strong. I generally tend to stick to a gluten-free + dairy-free diet and pump my body with loads of greens! Lean proteins and healthy fats! It’s so hard to say no to sugars, so when desperate, I try to go towards the natural sugars (honey, xylitol, etc.), because if I don’t, it results in inflammation and feeling sluggish. Also, I recommend loads of water to promote glowing skin and avoid water retention! Although this might all be beneficial for aesthetic reasons, it’s also preserving your body long-term for your career! Mental health is highly important, as this industry is mentally taxing when it comes to confidence and self-love. I practice meditation every day to promote self-worth and to help me stay grounded.
Describe each of the following in one word: who you are, what you value the most, and what you’d be if you were a food item.
Who you are - Firecracker
What you value most - Family
What you’d be if you were a food item - Peach
Thanks for taking the time, Bianca! The Kissing Booth 2 is now streaming on Netflix.
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housemates with shiratorizawa
helloo!! new headcanon series here hehe. i hope you like this very long set of headcanons!
how you ended up in a house with these guys:
they're such a tight-knit bunch considering the fact that they've been living in a dormitory throughout high school
it was probs semi or kawanishi who suggested getting an extra roommate to help with the rent (tendou and goshiki are accident prone they need someone to help pay for repairs)
so ushijima made and put up an ad for an extra housemate. although he didn't disclose the fact that you'd be rooming with 7 other dudes
you were kind of desperate for some housing at this point so you just went with it
the person who greets you at the door is shirabu. but its more like he saw you, your bag, and went back inside the house leaving the door open
you stood there for a whole ten minutes before kawanishi came up to invite you inside
you're instantly greeted by goshiki and semi cleaning the house like crazy. semi was punching a couch cushion so that it looked an extra soft pillow
tbh the only normal you see are ushijima and reon. they're probs the ones who interviewed you to see if you were a good fit as their housemate
despite how weird your first impressions of some of your housemates were, you were still keen to move in
and then that's when tendou decided to come home from the pet shop with an iguana
living there:
you're roommate ends up being shirabu because no one else wanted to room with him (jk they all drew straws and he was lucky)
he's a pretty good roommate: clean, keeps to himself, doesn't play music too loudly
except the fact that he ALWAYS HOGS THE UPSTAIRS BATHROOM
the bathroom might as well just be his because it's FULL of beauty products. also shirabu takes a million years to get ready that at this point, everyone uses the downstairs bathroom
lmao y'all get your revenge tho by using some of shirabu's products when he's gone
its particularly you, semi, tendo, and kawanishi who like to do that
kawanishi: *walks past shirabu*
shirabu: bitch, did you use my fucking Splash of Pomegranate with Exfoliating Sesame Seeds: Rainforest of the Sun Bath and Body Works shower gel?
kawanishi:...no?
semi and reon are both roommates and are probably the most normal people in the house which is saying something
also idk why i feel like they both have a thing for scented candles but they're too shy to tell anyone
like,,, they have a closet full of scented candles and everything
reon: hey, want me to light up Spring Lake or Summer's Kiss?
semi: Summer's Kiss all the way
that's why they always keep their door locked and whenever someone knocks, they quickly snuff out the candle and fan the smoke out of the windows
you: whoa, why does it smell so nice here?
semi: ...air freshener
is kawanishi the only sane, normal person in the house? yeah, probably
he's the one who remembers to get groceries and buy toilet paper and shit and he's so happy he has you to help him out
the thing is though, he's a NOTORIOUS prankster. like, nobody suspects him because they assume its tendou who put packets of ketchup under the toilet seat but no, it was kawanishi
but his favorite person to mess with is his roommate: goshiki
okay goshiki is a Heavy Sleeper and one night you and kawanishi decided to draw criss-cross stocking marks on his legs with permanent marker
goshiki is an alright housemate. he's polite, does his assigned chores, rarely gets into your privacy
but oh my god every morning at 5 am he wakes up the entire house BY BLENDING PROTEIN SHAKES
you and shirabu considered soundproofing your room or chaining goshiki to his bed
ONE OF THE HOUSE'S GREATEST MYSTERIES: how does goshiki cut his hair?
tendou knows you've been dying to know why so one day he's all 'do you really wanna know?' and you're like 'HECC YEAH' and he takes your arm and brings you to goshiki's room
in there you find him with a bowl on his head and cutting along the rim with his scissors
shirabu is also with him but he has a ruler for his bangs
its the only time they ever get along
tendou and ushijima has hands-down the most chaotic room set-up
for one, half of it, ushijima's half, looks like a traditional japanese house
you know that scene in BNHA where todoroki was showing off his room? yes that one
y'all are like 'how was he able to bring tatami mats in his room?'
and then tendou's half looks like a weird-ass storage room complete with an iguana tank (yes he kept it)
tendou probs has those color-changing lights too
and the funny part about it is that both ushijima and tendou are completely okay with the set-up
also tendou has the most irregular schedule ever. like,,, circadian rhythms just wasn't installed in the being that is Tendou Satori
like,, he'll be making mac and cheese at 3 am and just enter your room asking if you want anything
you: WHY WOULD I WANT MAC AND CHEESE AT 3 AM???
shirabu, who's still awake because he's a med student: i'll have some
ushijima on the other hand has such a set schedule and daily routine. he's the definition of 'working like clockwork'
you guys even use him as your clock because why not?
you: guys what time is it?
reon: ushijima just left for his morning run so probably 7am
the only thing is that ushijima,,, generally doesn't cook??
and by that he likes to eat raw vegetables. no seasoning, no nothing
and he always offers to make people snacks and he does it so sincerely that you can't help but accept his snacks
*insert scene of you eating raw carrots at 11 pm while studying*
house incident: everyone being a closeted fan of Naruto
everyone in shiratorizawa is a closeted naruto fan (except for a few but we’ll be discussing) and no i don’t accept criticism on this
goshiki MAY have rock lee’s signature bowl cut and sometimes walks around the house in leg weights but he doesn’t say who he copies them from outright
but EVERYONE ELSE
you started having your suspicions when you walked into semi and reon’s room looking for a pencil and found semi sitting in bed with a pile of tissues around him and his laptop on his lap
you guys stare at each other for a while and semi just quickly yells “I WAS WATCHING PORN”
you: I DON’T NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE WATCHING
my boy semi was actually crying to that part in naruto when zabuza and haku died
his roommate reon on the other hand has a secret tattoo
it’s a sharingan tattoo and its on his back, just between his shoulder blades, which is why he doesn’t go around shirtless (his favorite character is itachi don’t @ me)
reon probably owns an akatsuki cloak too
kawanishi has an ENTIRE playlist of the naruto opening and ending tracks that he got from youtube and converted into mp3 format on youtube mp3 converter which he then downloaded and organized into a playlist with the album art when he was thirteen
sometimes you’ll hear him whistling Ikimono Gakari and everyone in the house is all 👂👂👂
tendou is the only one not lowkey about it but he’s not lowkey about anything he likes
and then one day you and tendou are in the kitchen and ushijima decides to watch tv while eating breakfast
while flipping through the channels he comes across the rock lee vs. gaara fight and he just decides to watch while eating
tendou’s like ‘wakatoshi? do you,,, like naruto?’
ushijima: is this naruto? it looks pretty cool
AND THEN YOU AND TENDOU JUST AMBUSH HIM AND GO INTO A TED TALK ABOUT HOW AWESOME NARUTO IS
while you’re busy ranting about it, semi, goshiki, and reon, who recognize the unmistakable Sounds of Naruto, creep downstairs
semi: oh, cool. it’s naruto
reon: yeah, used to watch it when i was a kid
goshiki: hmm, seems like an alright show
and then USHIJIMA LOOKS AT GOSHIKI AND THEN AT ROCK LEE AND JUST GOES
‘hey, you remind me of that guy’
AND GOSHIKI ALMOST CRIES
reon and semi end up sitting on the couch, trying to hold in their middle-school selves while watching
and then kawanishi comes in and he’s just like OH MY GOD NARUTO!!
now almost everyone in the house is watching. at that part when rock lee drops his weights reon and semi jump off the couch and cheer
they can’t hold themselves back anymore
last but not the least, shirabu, who came back from class, walks into the living room to find all of his housemates cheering and crying in front of the TV that’s playing naruto
shirabu: omg u guys are lame
goshiki, sobbing: WE’RE NOT LAME IF WE FOLLOW OUR NINJA WAY
shirabu: welL, OBVIOUSLY THE BEST FIGHT SCENE IS WHEN NARUTO AND ROCK LEE GO AGAINST KIMIMARO YOU UNCULTURED FUCKS
and then he runs up to his room before coming down with THE FULL BLU-RAY DISC SET OF NARUTO ALL THE WAY UNTIL SHIPPUDEN
basically you guys end up watching naruto all day and semi finally admitted that he wasn’t watching porn the day you came into his room
taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh@charliefredb@dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts@applepienation@doodleniella
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Hey! @puns-are-great-and-so-is-danny! Here is your gift fic! It got a little out of hand, and it doesn’t have a super solid ending, but I hope you like it. :)
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Dear Albus,
I hope this letter finds you well. I know these are trying and troubling times, both here and in Britain, and part of me hesitates to ask this of you for exactly that reason. But, as ever, circumstances leave us with few viable options.
News of what happened to Amity Park this Spring has spread far and wide at this point, so I won’t waste your time repeating what you already know. What is not common knowledge, however, is that after the dust settled, the Aurors assigned to the case encountered several irregularities, not the least of which was a disturbingly high number of completely untrained young witches and wizards.
Once news of them gets out, I have no doubt the official line will be that they simply fell through the cracks, that, unfortunately, our spells for finding young magically-gifted persons are imperfect, that the nature of Amity Park obscured them from view. This, I fear, is a lie.
I have no proof, but I believe they were deliberately removed from MACUSA files on account of their heritage. Albus, they are descended from Scourers.
Perhaps that should be obvious, perhaps you had already guessed, considering the so-called reasoning behind the attack on Amity Park, the ideals those murderers professed, but I want to make myself and my own reasoning clear. Though it shames me deeply to say it, those children will not be safe at Ilvermorny, nor, I believe, will they be at any other school on this continent. For all the time that has passed, the Barebones Incident and its repercussions are too fresh in the minds of the people.
There are seven of them. Well, seven that are of concern to me. The others have found or are seeking alternate arrangements. They have been staying at the school, for the time being. My colleagues and I have been attempting to give them a good grounding in magical basics. They would not come to you without foundations.
Albus, I am begging you, accept these students into Hogwarts. I know this is a poor time. I have heard rumors, horrible, horrible rumors, about what is happening in Britain, about what happened at Hogwarts last year, but I fear for these children’s future, for their spirits, should they be forced into a place where they will be hated simply because of who their ancestors were.
I know that even in Hogwarts they would be unable to escape that, but it would be less. Britain does not have the same history with Scourers that we do. More, for some of them, they would not be forced to walk in the same halls as the kin of their parents’ murderers.
I will understand if you refuse, but I am relying on your compassion.
Eagerly awaiting your reply,
Agilbert Fontaine
Headmaster of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
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Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore looked down at the letter from his old friend and colleague and sighed, his heart heavy. Agilbert was not a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Albus knew more about the situation in Amity Park than Agilbert assumed and likely was aware of things that Agilbert himself was not.
For example, while the bulk of the group that had devastated and decimated Amity Park were indeed Magical Separatists and those looking for generations-late revenge on Scourers, their core leadership included American Death Eaters.
He was also aware of the children Agilbert had mentioned. Most of the truly astonishing number of magically inclined children and adults in Amity Park had chosen to find private tutors, go through correspondence or summer courses, or attend one of several small schools in North America that had quickly shuffled to make accommodations for them, on the condition that they hide their origins.
The seven mentioned… Well. They didn’t really have those options. Either their names were too infamous, or they had no one to stay with while they puzzled through correspondence courses. Or both.
And the names. Even here, some of them were well known.
Albus could understand why Agilbert had asked for his help.
But was it responsible to drag these children here while Voldemort was lurking in the shadows, building up his power base once again? To offer them safety he could not give?
For those students already attending Hogwarts, it was one thing, they were already involved, simply by virtue of where they were born and where they lived. But those seven, in America, they would be—
Well. Not safe, perhaps, not with their parents killed and their home ravaged by hostile magic. But… farther away from the direct line of fire.
But would they be? Beyond simply spreading fear and hate, was there another reason for the attack on Amity Park?
Albus heaved another sigh.
At times he enjoyed making decisions like this. Enjoyed power, knowledge, experience, those things people tended to mistake for wisdom, even though he had made more mistakes than anyone else he knew, and all the privileges and responsibilities that came with it, all the control over other peoples’ lives. This was a failing, a flaw, he knew, and time and time again it had come back to bite him. Karmic vengeance for being an old man who kept too many secrets.
But times like these… In times like these, he despised the choices he was forced to make.
“What troubles you, Albus? I can hear you sighing from the other room.”
Albus did not flinch or startle at the ghost’s approach and gently chiding tone. He looked up and smiled thinly at his former and present colleague. It seemed Cuthbert was having a good day. It was a pity so few students saw him at his best, and regarded his lessons as utterly boring, but Albus could never find the heart to replace him. Nor, sadly, the budget. Damn the board of directors.
In answer, Albus turned the letter to face him. Cuthbert Binns was not a member of the Order, either, but he, like every other member of the Hogwarts staff, had been informed of what had transpired at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He would understand Albus’s dilemma.
“Amity Park?” murmured Cuthbert, tapping the second paragraph. “That sounds… familiar. That—” Cuthbert broke off.
If Albus had not spent significant portions of his life surrounded by ghosts, he would not have caught the subtle change in Cuthbert’s silvery complexion.
“Perhaps you heard about the tragedy that happened there recently.” Which would be a first, even alive, Cuthbert had never really cared about anything that happened more recently than a hundred years ago, but not impossible.
“Tragedy? No.” Cuthbert shook his head. “Amity Park it’s—It is…” He trailed off, looking down at the letter, disturbed. “Albus, I have known you for many years. You have been here for many years, with all us ghosts, and… You know there are things the dead do not speak of to the living.”
Albus did know. “Are you saying Amity Park is related to one of those things?” Could this be another attempt on Voldemort’s part to defeat death? His suspicion regarding horcruxes was bad enough, what that could mean for Harry… But if that man had yet another way to stave off death…
Cuthbert dithered, and Albus wished fiercely that he could trust him enough to tell him about the Order, about Voldemort’s plans, to impress upon him how important this was, how vital that Albus know.
But he couldn’t. It would just take one bad day, and one misplaced question from a student related to someone unfortunate, and everything would come tumbling down.
No. Albus could not push him.
“I—I must go,” said Cuthbert, halfway through the wall. “I have to look into something. I’ll be back before you know it.”
He was not.
.
Albus had still not made a decision on Agilbert’s letter the next night. He had consulted Minerva, Severus, and the other teachers who were also in the Order on the matter, and had distracted himself with other, arguably more important, matters.
(The eyes on Number Four Privet Drive, the movements in and out of the Malfoy residence, the horribly dangerous games Severus was playing, the master schedule for the next school year, the still-empty Defense Against the Dark Arts post, extra protections on Hogwarts’ boundaries, how to keep the Order safe…)
But he shouldn’t put something like this off for much longer.
It would be much easier to deny Agilbert’s request. As tragic as the seven students’ circumstances were, they weren’t his responsibility, and he had so many.
Would you feel the same if the attackers had been Gellert’s people?
They’re children. Like your students. Like Adri—
Albus closed his eyes and forced the tiny and vicious voice away, out of his mind.
“Sir Nicholas wants to speak to you,” said one of the portraits.
Surprised, Albus turned his head to face the image of his predecessor. “Of course. Could you tell him he can come in?”
A few minutes later, the Gryffindor ghost floated through the wall. “Hello, Albus,” he said, the outlines of his figure crisper than they usually were, and continued before Albus could greet him, “I am sorry to interrupt you like this, but is it true? Seven students from Amity Park?”
“Cuthbert told you?”
“He told all of us,” said Sir Nicholas, shrugging in a way that made his head roll unsettlingly. “You should accept them.”
Albus raised his eyebrows.
“There is a certain element of risk involved,” the ghost’s voice was careful, “but if they come to Hogwarts, there is a possibility that you may gain a powerful ally, and that…” Here, Sir Nicholas hesitated. “Certain ancient wrongs might be righted.”
“I suppose it is that second the ghosts are interested in?” asked Albus, both curious and, despite himself, amused.
Sir Nicholas gave him a gentle smile. “Do not imagine that we are careless of your struggles, Albus, but many of us were long dead before you were born. We care, but… sometimes the picture in front of our eyes is not the same as the one before yours.”
That was reasonable.
However.
“Can you give me any more detail?” asked Albus, hopefully.
“I’m afraid not,” said the ghost, drifting backwards.
.
The next letter from Agilbert was much thicker and contained the records of seven new Hogwarts students.
.
The wand turning in his fingers was made of pear wood. Not that Danny could tell, just by looking, but the wandmaker, who had accompanied her wares to Ilvermorny, had been very talkative, even when Danny had… not.
Pear wood, cut from a tree that had grown up through a chain-link fence on the wandmaker’s property. She had meant to cut it out, she said, but by the time she had gotten around to doing so, there had been bowtruckles in it, and she wasn’t about to cut down a good wand wood tree.
Danny still wasn’t entirely sure what bowtruckles were to be honest.
The wood of the wand was normal. The core, apparently, was not. It was hair from a magical creature, which most wand cores were, but the wandmaker had cheerfully admitted to having no idea what the hair was from. It had shown up in her workshop one day, in a little box, black and white, in neat little bundles.
Danny had suspicions about where it had come from.
Suspicions that had been exacerbated by the fact that both Sam and Tucker had been ‘chosen’ by wands with the same core.
Anyway, Danny had liked the wandmaker, even if he thought she was a bit weird, for using components that just showed up out of nowhere in her work.
(She reminded him a bit of Mom.)
Danny wasn’t sure why he was thinking of her. It had been months since then. But he was feeling lonely, even though his friends were just in the next room, and Jazz was here, and maybe she was the closest he would let his mind get to…
To…
“If you keep doing that,” said Jazz, “you’re going to put your eye out.”
Danny glanced over at her. There was an east-facing window behind her, and the sun was shining through her shoulder, lighting her up like stained glass.
“If they catch you in color, they’re going to have questions.”
Jazz rolled her golden eyes, but the color drained out of her, leaving her ‘properly’ silver and gray. “If they actually listened, instead of dismissing everything weird in Amity as untrained magic acting up, then they wouldn’t need to have questions.”
“Yeah, but they didn’t, and I don’t think they’re going to. So, considering what we have to do…”
“We need all our advantages. You don’t have to tell me again,” said Jazz. She pulled a face. “Well, you did, actually, I guess. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” muttered Danny. “You only died a couple months ago. It takes time to recalibrate.”
“Mm,” said Jazz, sticking her head through the windowpanes and looking down. She pulled back. “Your escort’s coming up.”
“Oh? Yeah?”
“Or at least someone. It’s hard to tell who, what with the hats and all…”
It was time to go, then. Danny gathered his things and joined the others in the common area.
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Hours later, as the sun was setting, nine Americans stepped out of a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic. Seven were students. One was a very haggard chaperon. The last was a ghost whom aurors and representatives from the Department of Spectral Affairs hadn’t quite been able to dissuade from haunting her brother.
Such was life. Such was death.
“Alright, kids,” said the chaperon, chivying them towards a central area. “We just have to go through customs, and then we can find a place to relax until the representatives from Hogwarts get here.”
“I thought we already went through customs,” protested Dash.
“Yeah,” said Paulina. “The American side. To make sure we weren’t smuggling anything out. Now we have to go through the British side, to make sure we aren’t smuggling anything in.”
“Smuggling isn’t really the main issue,” said the chaperon, “but, yes. MACUSA knows you aren’t in the states anymore, and we have to make sure the Ministry over here knows you are, so you can comply with their laws and such. Oh, and so you can get the Trace, but that isn’t important.”
“The Trace?” asked Sam, doubling her word count for the day. Ever since the attack, she had been rather taciturn.
“It’s how they keep track of underage magic over here,” explained the chaperon. “MACUSA phased it out a few years ago. It isn’t very reliable, and besides, recent studies show that magical persons of any age can use magic accidentally, and there’s no good way to tell if there is a magical adult nearby, so…” She gave herself a little shake. “But it’s the law here, and it doesn’t matter. You’ll be at Hogwarts the whole time, anyway.”
“You mean they’ll be tracking us?” asked Danny, trying to keep the alarm from his voice. That could be… problematic. Considering what he was really here for, and all.
“Not you in particular,” said the chaperon, snagging Tucker by the back of his shirt before he could make a detour to investigate a guarded cart of ominously sparking electronics. She pulled him back. “It’s my understanding that every child with the trace on them shows up as a dot on a map, and the dot changes color if magic is performed near them. Some of the more sophisticated versions can determine what kind of magic, but, well… it isn’t like they ever know which dot belongs to which person, so unless you’re living with all no-maj family members—They call them muggles, here, I think—in a particular house, it is very difficult for them to determine who did what. I’d tell you more, but this isn’t my area of expertise. Perhaps the customs agents will know more? You should ask when we go through…”
Danny began to tune her out. He caught Sam’s eye, then Tucker’s, and they all nodded at each other a little bit. Not that they had a plan or anything, but sometimes it helped to know that other people also found a situation to be sucky.
Where would the Minister of Magic be in all this mess, anyway? Danny let his eyes rove over the hall. There was no guarantee that he was even here today, and Danny wasn’t to the point where he wanted to reveal himself. He had been given lots of instructions, but one of them had been to keep himself safe. Clockwork had even said it was a priority.
Best to stick to letters, for now. Even if none of them had been answered, yet.
They reached the long, winding line that was customs, had their luggage gone through yet again. Tucker lost another PDA, and Danny had to wonder how many more he had hidden. The American side of customs had done a pretty good job of finding them. Sam got taken aside for questioning, because some of her goth paraphernalia had a passing resemblance to ‘Dark’ objects. Star had to explain her medications. Valerie set off some sort of magical metal detector, and the customs agents started arguing about what had caused it. No one had found out about her suit yet.
Meanwhile, Danny was sent to another table, to fill out forms for Jazz. Again. Because, for reasons Danny didn’t fully understand, even with everything Clockwork and the other Ancients told him, wizards thought they could control and regulate what ghosts did and where they went.
Danny did not particularly care for wizards, as a group. The paperwork—The stupid, pointless paperwork, because Jazz was going to do what she wanted and no one would stop her, he’d make sure of it—made him angry. A lot of things made him angry, lately, when they didn’t just make him depressed or sullen.
“Breathe, Danny,” said Jazz, leaning down, next to his ear. “The language in this is stupid, but I don’t mind being called names. We both know they’re wrong, and what they think isn’t important anyway, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Danny, forcing his muscles to relax. He finished the paperwork.
They passed through the last customs barrier together, and soon found themselves in a large atrium with a large, extremely gaudy, gold fountain in the center.
Now, Danny had to admit, he had only the briefest of encounters with house elves and goblins, and none at all with centaurs, but he couldn’t imagine that the look of adoration on their faces was at all accurate. At least not for the species as a whole.
He tried to imagine the statue with a ghost in it, with a half-ghost in it, and he just—
Yeah. No.
Wizards.
Or, at least, these wizards. Whatever.
They found a bench off to one side, to wait for the Hogwarts representatives. Danny had to wonder how they’d find them. Would they hold signs? Seemed probable. Everything in the ‘wizarding world’ seemed to be stuck fifty years back in time, if not more.
Or, maybe, the chaperon knew who they were meeting and would wave at them. Like she was doing now.
Okay, so, Danny had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t coming up with random prejudices. Ancients. If his first encounter with the supernatural had been those people in cloaks showing up out of thin air and starting to kill people, he’d probably never be able to pull himself out of that mindset.
Not all wizards were terrible. Like the wandmaker. She was okay.
He took the time to assess the two witches who had come to pick them up. They were opposites of each other, at least in appearance. One was tall, thin, and severe, almost sharp. The other was short and round and sort of soft around the edges. The only areas in which they demonstrated similarity were their age and apparent gender.
“Alright, kids. This is Professor McGonagall,” she gestured to the taller woman, “and this is Professor Sprout. They’re the heads of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively. Minerva, Pomona, these are Dash Baxter, Daniel Fenton, Tucker Foley, Valerie Grey, Samantha Manson, Paulina Sanchez, and Star Thunder.”
“And Jazz,” said Danny, annoyed that his sister had, once again, been left out.
“Hey,” said Jazz. “Nice to meet you.”
Professor McGonagall nodded. “We will be taking you to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies for the year before we go to Hogwarts.”
“Yeah,” said Star, eyes tracking a flock of apparently animate paper airplanes, “we know.”
McGonagall raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t comment. “Do you want to come with us, Cerise?”
“No, I have a few other things to do on this side of the Atlantic. That’s why they sent me. Have a good time in Diagon Alley, kids, it’s a historic place!”
.
Danny had to wonder about goblins. Did they just… really like banks, or were they forbidden from holding jobs elsewhere? Or effectively forbidden by prejudice? Because, thus far, he had only seen goblins when changing currency. ‘No-maj’ money to the denominations used by American wizards, and now from that to the infinitely more confusing British ‘galleons.’
It would probably be rude to ask.
Maybe he could find a book…
But were these people self-aware enough to write about stuff like that? He shook his head. Prejudice, prejudice… He barely knew anything about any of these people, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions prematurely.
Not that he didn’t already know several unsavory things about their system of governance, thanks to the Ancients. And their not-so-little terrorist problem. And the fact that they thought erasing people’s memories with a spell that could cause long-term brain damage was A-Okay.
Yeah. But that didn’t mean all of them were bad. Just that their government sucked. Which was true for almost all governments, so it didn’t mean anything.
McGonagall and Sprout were very efficient as they went through the shops, giving the impression that they had done this, or something like this, many times before. They did not allow detours, despite the many, many distracting things on display on the street and in the windows. Professor Sprout, however, kept up a running commentary on what things were, so it wasn’t too frustrating.
About halfway through the shopping trip, they stopped at the place that sold uniforms. Sprout stayed with them, while McGonagall left to go get other supplies. It was an experience. Other than his jumpsuit, Danny had never had any clothing fitted specifically for him before.
The fitting made him… nervous.
The tape measures and needles flew close to his skin. The seamstress who had been assigned to him also kept touching him, which was part of her job, and it wasn’t invasive or anything, but still. Also, there were a lot of other teens, and even some preteen kids, in the store, getting their uniforms, and they were all staring.
What they were staring at wasn’t the same from person to person, Paulina and Jazz seemed to be the biggest targets for whatever reason, but it was still staring. The parents waiting with their kids were staring as well, and Danny started to fidget. Which meant that he got stabbed by the needle a few times. Which wasn’t fun.
But eventually that was over, and they were on their way to Hogwarts.
.
Considering that Agilbert had tried to compress years’ worth of magical education into the space of a few months for these students, the results were remarkable. True, with one notable exception, none of them were on a fifth-year level in Transfiguration, but Minerva didn’t feel the need to put them all in first-year or remedial classes, either.
She could only hope they did as well in their assessments in other subjects. They would have a hard enough time figuring out schedules for these seven, without having to account for them bouncing across year levels.
She picked up the written assessment from the one student she would be accepting into fifth-year Transfiguration. His penmanship was shaky, none of them had quite mastered writing with quills, and his grasp of the theory behind the spells was incomplete, but it was better than some. She tried not to roll her eyes as she thought of Crabbe and Goyle.
As a teacher, she should be above that. Alas.
Mr. Fenton did have some insights in his essay questions that were truly extraordinary for a person who didn’t even know magic existed at the beginning of the year. Perhaps they had another Hermione on their hands, although he didn’t give off the same air as she did. Or he had spent the summer focusing only on Transfiguration. Or Mr. Fenton had a singular talent in Transfiguration. Regardless, gifted and motivated students were always a pleasure to teach.
Minerva gathered her papers and left to meet Filius, who had tested the students before her. She was tempted to go look in on them now and see how the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was handling her first teaching experience but suppressed the urge. She would see them, and, sadly, Delores Umbridge, at lunch in only an hour.
Which was why she was so surprised to find the children in a hall so far away from Delores’ room.
Then she reminded herself that, appearances aside, these were not fifth-year students. They had no experience navigating the castle.
“Are you lost?” she asked.
The students exchanged glances. “Uh, sort of?” said Miss Sanchez, twirling a curl of hair around her fingers. “We weren’t sure if we should try to find Mr. Snape, or if we should go to the lunch hall.”
“Professor Snape,” corrected Minerva, mildly. “Did you already finish Professor Umbridge’s assessment?”
“She didn’t give us an assessment,” said Miss Manson, angrily.
Minerva’s eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah,” said Mr. Fenton. “She basically said that she was doing the same curriculum for everyone, so she didn’t need to. So, we were wondering if we should move on to, um, potions? Potions. Or if we should go to lunch, or just hang out, or what.”
“Professor Snape is unlikely to be expecting you at this point,” said Minerva, feeling a headache growing behind her eyes. What was Delores thinking? The same curriculum for all years? For eleven-year-olds and eighteen-year-olds? There would be riots. Or at least hexes. “I can take you to the Great Hall.”
“Thanks, Ms. McGonagall,” said Mr. Foley. And what was that he was hiding in his robes? How many cursed muggle machines had he smuggled in?
Minerva sighed. Honestly, it was probably harmless, though she possibly should speak to Charity about it. “Professor McGonagall.”
“Sorry,” said Mr. Fenton. “It’s just… hard to adjust.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I suppose it is,” she said. “This way, children.”
.
Jazz floated through a wall, carefully avoiding the paintings. Their inhabitants weren’t quite ghosts, from what she and Danny could tell, but they also weren’t not ghosts.
It hadn’t taken her long last night to find the actual wizarding ghosts. They’d been expecting her, in more ways than one. But they had been weird. Empty. They didn’t have any ectoplasm in them, and the intensity that was a part of every other ghost Jazz had ever met, Danny included, was absent.
Clockwork and the Lady had warned them about that, before sending Danny, and by extension Jazz, Sam, and Tucker, off on his mission. Jazz just hadn’t quite believed it.
Wizarding ghosts weren’t made of passion, need, want, duty, or even stubbornness. They were made of fear. Fear, by itself, didn’t hold ectoplasm well, especially not fear of death. Wizarding ghosts might as well be mere imprints for all the power they had.
From the beginning, Jazz had been less than enthusiastic about pretending to be one of them. Now, she was even less so.
It wasn’t their fault, though. At least, it wasn’t entirely their fault. None of the ghosts here were around back when the Ancients and the wizards of the day came together and put their names to the Tenebris Carta, and they were trying to make amends. It sounded like they hoped the old treaty could be renegotiated, or that they hoped Danny and Jazz could get them an exception.
Jazz didn’t hate them. Didn’t dislike them or anything, and Danny would probably try to help them, so long as they didn’t turn evil or anything. That was just the kind of person Danny was.
She just needed more time to… adjust to them. And the paintings. Because wow.
“Ah, Miss Fenton!”
Jazz twisted herself over, mid-air. “You can call me Jazz, if you want, Sir Nicholas.”
The silvery ghost smiled. “If you insist. We’re going down to the Great Hall, to introduce ourselves to your companions over lunch. I was wondering if you would like to join us.”
“Sure,” said Jazz, descending to float by the other ghost. “But who do you mean by ‘we?’”
“All the castle ghosts,” said Sir Nicholas, “and possibly Peeves, though he won’t be invited.”
“Peeves?”
“The poltergeist. He isn’t really a ghost. At least… he’s not a ghost like us.”
“Mhm,” said Jazz. “Should I look forward to meeting him, or should I be very afraid?”
“Ah, neither, I suppose? He tends to play pranks, but he never does anything terribly dangerous, and he couldn’t hurt you if he tried.”
“Well,” said Jazz, “as long as he doesn’t mess with my brother, we’ll probably get along just fine.” She flexed her hands to disperse the pale green flames that had started to creep up her fingers. “If he does, I’ll tear him apart.”
“Speaking of your brother, do you have any guesses as to which house he will be joining?”
“I wasn’t under the impression it was a choice,” said Jazz.
“It isn’t, exactly. Students are sorted into the houses with, well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but houses are selected based on a student’s personality, aptitudes, and values. Normally, if they came in as first-years, they would be sorted on the first, but given the circumstances, they’ll be sorted tonight. I’m rather hoping to have a few new students for my house.”
Jazz grinned, detecting a note of competition. “And what does your house look for? Gryffindor, right?”
“Bravery,” said Sir Nicholas, proudly. “Considering your brother’s accomplishments, I’m looking forward to seeing him join.”
“He is the bravest person I know,” said Jazz.
.
Several dozen ghosts phasing through the walls didn’t just set off Danny’s fight-or-flight response. Sam readied her wrist-lasers, while Tucker grabbed Danny’s wrist and started hunting for a place to hide Danny so his transformation wouldn’t be noticeable. Dash and Star took cover under one of the tables. Paulina pulled out her wand. Valerie materialized a hand blaster.
It wasn’t entirely clear what weapon went off first, but it didn’t really matter. The end result was chaos.
“Oops,” said Jazz.
.
“I am so, so, sorry,” said Jazz, hovering over Danny. Literally.
“It’s fine,” said Danny. “Really.”
“No, it isn’t. I should have realized how everyone would react. I should have told them to stop it, or something.”
“They were already on their way through the walls when you got there, weren’t you?” asked Tucker, swinging his legs back and forth as he sat on the end of the hospital bed.
No one had been seriously injured, but a few tables had been exploded before the teachers had calmed everyone down and confiscated the ‘bizarre muggle weapons.’ On the other hand, everyone had a number of inconvenient scrapes and bruises that Madam Pomfrey insisted on taking a look at.
“Still,” said Jazz. “I know all of you have PTSD from repeated ghost attacks and those people, I should have known what that would look like to you.”
“Er,” said Dash. “It really is fine.”
“Yeah,” grunted Valerie, which was surprising.
Outside of ‘Team Phantom,’ none of the others interacted with Jazz very much. They didn’t seem to know how. Valerie, however, outright avoided Jazz most of the time.
Which, well. Danny wasn’t about to call her behavior reasonable, but it was definitely in-character. This seemed like a good sign, though.
“Yes, dear,” agreed Madam Pomfrey. “It isn’t your fault. We adults should have said something before things got out of hand like that.” She waved her wand back and forth over Star’s prominent black eye, and the bruise just… vanished. Like Star had never been hurt.
Danny inhaled slowly. It wasn’t the first time he had seen magical healing—The aurors who had arrived a few hours after the attack on Amity Park had done a great deal—but if there was anything of magic that Danny wanted to learn, it was that. And anything protective.
“Is there a class for that?” he asked.
“For what?”
“Healing.”
“Yes, it’s an elective,” said Madam Pomfrey. “Though it does have a few required courses. Perhaps you will be able to take it next year?”
Danny swallowed down envy and nodded. “Yeah, I guess we aren’t going to have time for electives, for the most part.”
“You may be surprised. Now, I think you’re all set, unless you’re hiding something from me?”
The students shook their heads.
“Good. I believe Professor Snape is expecting you?”
.
“Did that seem… weirdly easy to you?” asked Sam.
Danny thought about it for a second. “Not the ‘what does this plant or animal part do’ questions,” he said, finally, “but the practical part of it? Yeah. It was just… cooking. Really fiddly cooking, but still cooking.”
“Speaking of,” said Tucker, “how did you get by the parts where you had to use animal body parts.”
“Oh, I didn’t,” said Sam. “I just skipped those. I’m pretty sure I failed, judging by the look on Professor Snape’s face. My end result was pretty nasty-looking. It smelled bad, too.”
“You’re the reason we were stuck in an unventilated basement breathing in burnt hair fumes?” asked Paulina.
“Yeah. I mean, it didn’t smell like burnt hair to me, but probably.”
Paulina sighed. “I have to hand it to you, girl, you stand by your convictions.”
“I don’t think it’s unventilated,” said Star, contemplatively. “I wasn’t really paying attention, but there was definitely movement in all the, uh, vapors, or whatever. Professor Snape totally needs a better teacher face, though. Like, does he just have the one expression, or what?”
“No, no,” said Sam. “The look he gave me when I turned in my disaster was way more pronounced.”
“Still needs more than disdain and mega-disdain,” said Tucker. “Even Lancer had a wider range.”
“Come on, guys,” said Danny, “he can’t be much more than, what, thirty? He has time to develop more emotions.”
“Yeah,” said Valerie, flatly. “Give it a couple more years, and maybe he’ll nail down hyper-disdain.”
This surprised a snicker out of everyone. Almost everyone.
“Uh, guys?” said Dash. “I think I might have been the one who made it smell like burnt hair. What was it supposed to smell like?”
“I’m so glad I don’t need to breathe,” said Jazz.
“Oh my gosh, Jazz, that’s way too soon.”
.
“What do you think?” asked the hat.
The hat.
Danny could understand the paintings. He could almost understand how the paintings worked, even. They had the shapes of people who had once lived, their image, their likeness, and had by virtue of magic snagged a piece of their soul as they left this world.
But a hat. Who would try to give a hat sentience? And how? Was the thing possessed by an extraordinarily unfortunate ghost?
“Um,” said Danny, shaking off the shock. “I liked it!”
“Sorry,” said Star, “I’m just a little surprised. Are you really a… a hat?”
“Yes, I am the Sorting Hat! It is my job to divine which of our four houses each of you should belong to. Weren’t you listening?”
“We were,” assured Star, “it’s just…”
“You’re a hat,” finished Tucker. “Did you used to be a wizard or something?”
“Goodness, no, I was Godric Gryffindor’s hat! He enchanted me.”
“So, are you like a computer program?” continued Tucker. “Are you an AI?”
“No Skynet,” muttered Sam.
“Why do you guys keep thinking I’m going to make Skynet?”
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. The other teachers were all present, except for the headmaster and Professor Umbridge. Their absences had not been explained.
“When you hear your name,” said McGonagall, “please come up and put the Sorting Hat on. It also usually helps if you sit down on the stool. Once the hat has determined your house, take it off, and put it down for the next person to use.”
Alright. That sounded easy enough. Danny wasn’t quite sure why such a big production was being made of this. A few comments from the teachers and the ghosts—not that Danny had talked to them very much, this was the first full day they’d been at the school—suggested there was some kind of rivalry between the houses, but it couldn’t be that bad. It was school.
Except Casper High had its nasty cliques, too, and he could just imagine how school-sanctioned cliques would work out. Especially if they were backed up by centuries of history and a magic personality test.
Fun.
Not.
He hoped he, Sam, and Tucker would all be in the same house. And that Dash wouldn’t revert to being a bully as soon as other students were added to the mix. And that… Oh, he hoped a lot of things, but he would be thankful if the ‘school’ part of this whole ordeal was as easy and drama-free as possible.
After all, he had other things to worry about.
“Baxter, Dash,” said McGonagall, evenly.
“Good luck, man,” said Tucker, holding up his thumbs. Everyone mirrored him.
Dash looked very strange, sitting on that small stool, but he wasn’t on it for more than a second before the hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”
The hat was very loud. Dash returned to the bench with a confused expression on his face.
“Fenton, Daniel.”
Danny stood up slowly. He had expected something more like a conversation. Was this a mind reading hat? Was the ‘take a peek inside your head’ bit literal?
Ugh, this was going to be a pain. Good thing he had a lot of practice in compartmentalizing.
“Ah, a burgeoning occlumens!” said the hat in its warm voice. “How unusual.”
“I have no idea what that means,” said Danny, mildly.
“Oh, I’m sure your teachers will explain it to you. I won’t take the pleasure from them.”
The voice was, Danny decided, more than half in his head, which was… Unsettling. Voices in his head usually either meant mind control, some jerk with telepathy, or someone trying to overshadow him. He didn’t like this. He really didn’t like this.
“No need to be so nervous,” said the hat. “I keep everything strictly confidential.”
“Forgive me if I’m not reassured,” said Danny.
“Hmf. In any case, you have traits that would do you well in any of the houses. Perhaps not Ravenclaw, though. As clever as you are, you are behind academically. You need a more nurturing environment, I imagine. As for the others… You are brave. You love your friends. You’d do anything for them?”
“Yeah,” said Danny.
“And there’s… something else you need to do?”
Danny was silent.
“I can’t see it very clearly, but it is an important task?”
Danny shrugged.
“A goal.”
“Sure.”
“I think, then, the choice is between the badger and the snake,” said the hat. “But I believe the decisive phrase here is ‘do anything.’ Therefore, you will be SLYTHERIN!”
Wow. Even bracing himself, that had been loud.
Danny stood up and carefully deposited the hat back on the stool. He noticed on his way back to the bench that more than one teacher looked flabbergasted, and several spectating ghosts looked disappointed. Almost crushed. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, he was a celebrity among the undead, no he couldn’t be in two houses at once. They should have prepared themselves.
Not to mention that, as important as education was, it was somewhat secondary to his true goals here. Which the ghosts partially knew about.
“Foley, Tucker.”
.
“I can’t believe it,” said Filius later that evening when all the teachers (sans Umbridge) gathered for a drink.
“I did say you would find the results surprising,” said Sybill, smugly.
“Two muggle-born American transfer students in Slytherin,” said Filius, wonderingly. “I didn’t expect to get any of them for Ravenclaw, but Slytherin?”
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t denigrate my house, Filius,” said Severus.
The diminutive teacher waved his hand. “Oh, that’s not my intention. But you have to admit, it seems like a strange choice.”
“They aren’t really muggle-born, though, are they?” asked Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, opting for tea instead of wine. “I’m not sure about the Sanchezes, but the Fentons were quite prominent, back in the day, weren’t they? At least, one of their ancestors wrote the first English book on new world magical creatures.”
“Muggle-borns and half-bloods are chosen for Slytherin all the time,” said Severus, annoyance clearly increasing. “Not, perhaps, as often as for the other houses, but it does happen regularly. You don’t have to be so shocked.”
“It’s nothing against Slytherin,” assured Pomona. “We were just expecting them to get split between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. American stereotypes in play, I suppose.”
“Mm,” said Septima, who was doodling equations on the back of her wrist. “On my end, my thought process was more that they wouldn’t do well trying to play catchup in Ravenclaw, and they wouldn’t have the ambition and drive to hold their own in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat disagreed.”
“Evidently,” said Severus. He didn’t look especially pleased, but then he never did.
“Better you than me,” said Filius, after a few minutes. “I can’t imagine it will be easy integrating them.”
Minerva, who had three of the students, laughed, “You aren’t getting out of it that easy, Filius. They still have charms. How did they do, by the way? We never really got around to discussing it.”
“None of them were brilliant,” said Filius. “But they have promise. I was wondering what you all thought about doing an accelerated class for some of them, to get them to a higher year-level.”
.
Being on the Hogwarts Express without Ron at his side felt wrong. Sure, he wasn’t entirely alone, Ginny was with him, and Hegwig, but it felt different. He felt exposed.
Although, that might have had something to do with all the people staring and pointing at him.
The Daily Prophet had spent most of the summer convincing everyone he was a lying show-off. The only things that had really competed with the ‘Harry Potter is delusional’ articles were the ‘haha, America is going to hell in a handbasket, aren’t we glad we aren’t them?’ articles.
(Harry wouldn’t have even cast a glance at the second, except that he and the others had overheard some of the Order members mention Death Eaters had been behind the attack on the muggle town. Even so, reading them made him feel grimy.)
They had to go all the way to the end of the train to get away from the unfriendly eyes, and that’s where they found Neville.
“Hi, Harry,” he said, out of breath. “Hi, Ginny… Everywhere’s full… I can’t find a seat…”
Ginny squeezed past him to look at the compartments behind him. “What are you talking about? There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here—”
“I don’t want to disturb her—”
“Don’t be silly, she’s alright.” She slid the door open and pulled her trunk in. “Hi, Luna. Is it okay if we take these seats?”
It took a couple minutes to get situated in the compartment, during which time Harry tried not to stare at Luna Lovegood very much. The blonde girl was surrounded by an aura of almost impenetrable oddness.
“Have a good summer, Luna?” asked Ginny.
Luna opened her mouth to answer, then closed it, frowning. “No, actually. My father had some friends in Amity Park. The town in America, you know.” She turned her head slightly. “You’re Harry Potter.”
“I know I am,” said Harry.
The four of them then proceeded to have a fairly enjoyable conversation, right up until Neville’s mimbulus mimbletonia sprayed them all with rancid sap and Cho Chang opened the compartment door.
Cho Chang who he had a crush on.
Yeah.
Harry had a strong desire to curl up and die.
Ron and Hermione did not turn up for over an hour, by which time the food trolley had come and gone, and most of the bounty acquired from it had been eaten.
“Oh, you have food. Brilliant,” said Ron, taking a Chocolate frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him. “You won’t believe what happened.”
“Malfoy’s Slytherin prefect?” asked Harry. The fear had been buzzing in the back of his head ever since Ron and Hermione had gotten their badges.
“Well, yeah,” said Ron.
“And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,” said Hermione.
“But that’s not the real surprise,” said Ron, oddly dismissive. “You remember all those articles in the Prophet? Not the ones about you. About that town, in America?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, some of kids who survived were wizards.”
“And witches,” added Hermione. She pulled Crookshanks into her lap.
“Well, apparently their ministry didn’t think they’d be safe over there, so they sent them here. Seven of ‘em.”
“What? They think it’s safe here?” In Hogwarts, maybe it was, except Harry had been snatched away even with all eyes on him, in the middle of a heavily attended competition. “With Voldemort on the loose?”
Everyone flinched.
“Well, that isn’t exactly being publicized,” said Hermione. “Not—Not in the right way. Besides, none of them knew about magic before this summer. They’re all our age, though. It must have been a shock. Especially after losing their families like that.” She shuddered. “We’ve been asked to help them acclimate. That’s why the meeting ran so long.”
“Are they in Gryffindor, then?” asked Luna.
“They’re sort of spread out,” said Hermione. “They’re in all the houses but Ravenclaw.”
“And I’m still not sure how they got put into Slytherin if they’re muggleborn,” said Ron, who had tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It doesn’t make sense,” he complained.
“Merlin was muggleborn,” said Luna. “He was a Slytherin. I’m sure there were others.”
Ron pulled a face.
(Harry thought about Voldemort—About Tom Riddle and his muggle father.)
“Anyway,” said Hermione. “We have three of them. Hufflepuff and Slytherin each have two.”
First Death Eaters in America, and now Slytherins from there? Harry shook himself internally. No, it probably didn’t mean anything.
“We probably won’t see much of them,” said Ron. “They’re taking mostly remedial classes. First and second year stuff.”
“Say,” said Luna, “do you know who the prefects are for the other houses?”
“Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” said Hermione.
“And Ernie Macmillian and Hannah Abbot for Hufflepuff,” added Ron. “You know, other than helping keep track of the younger kids and patrolling corridors every so often, there’s not really much we’re supposed to do as prefects. From how Percy talked about it, I always sort of thought there’d be more.” Then he grinned. “We can give punishments out if people are misbehaving. I can’t wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something…”
Predictably, this set off Hermione.
.
“There’s nothing else about the Americans?” asked Draco, frowning. “I’m not sure how we’re expected to ‘help them acclimate’ with so little information.”
The Head Girl rolled her eyes. “You’re expected to talk to them,” she said. “Considering that they’re real human beings and all. They’ve been through a lot, apparently, and I can appreciate them not wanting to have it spread around.”
Unspoken was the ‘do you?’ at the end of her sentence. Draco let his lip curl. People from other houses were always so eager to think the worst of Slytherin when all they were trying to be was logical.
“I’ll do that, then,” said Draco, stepping out of the prefects’ carriage. He needed to find Crabbe and Goyle. Annoying. As much as he was their leader, and he watched them, they were also there to watch him and—
(Draco chose not to think of the people who had arrived at Malfoy Manor over the Summer, of the things he’d seen.)
(When he was quite young, he’d read a book about muggle Germany during the time of Grindelwald, and how Grindelwald had subtly influenced things in that country. He’d always been struck by the use of informants, of how everyone had been convinced to watch one another and report those who stepped out of line. He found he could appreciate it even more now that he was inside a similar trap.)
But the Americans. It was so odd. They couldn’t have any lineage to speak of. Not if they were living like muggles in some backwater town.
… some backwater town the Dark Lord had seen fit to destroy.
… ‘Fenton’ sounded vaguely familiar.
… Perhaps ‘Sanchez’ was from a Spanish pureblood line.
Draco would have to do research. He was good at that. But whatever he found, he’d have to keep an eye on the Americans.
If nothing else, it would be good to have friends overseas.
.
“We’ll be in different dorms after this,” said Danny, vaguely depressed. “Different classes, too, most of the time.”
“We can still see each other during the day,” said Sam. “I think the only meal that’s segregated by house is dinner, anyway. We should be able to hang out at all the other times.”
Danny sighed. He had yet to have much success in his missions.
He’d felt something wrong on the seventh floor, but he hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. He’d found a giant inaccessible dungeon full of snake statues, a snake skeleton, and a number of other somewhat questionable things underneath the school. There had been an echo of something there, but whatever it was had been long gone by the time Danny got there. He also had the faint sense of a ghost—a real ghost—beginning to form there, and he hoped he hadn’t messed it up by spreading his ectoplasm around.
On the second front, he hadn’t heard anything from any of the leaders of the wizarding world. Unless he counted a reply from a secretary who thought he was disturbed.
But there was one bright spot. They’d met the Headmaster yesterday, and Danny was certain the man’s wand was one of the two subjects of his third quest. Which was hilarious. Out of everything, he’d thought the Hallows would be the hardest to find.
Not that he could just take it. Not now. Not yet. Not with everything else still so uncertain and Clockwork’s quiet assurance that he would find most of what he needed to at Hogwarts.
(Clockwork and the Lady had made a deal with him, bound in old magic and ghost law. Three tasks. Three nearly impossible quests, but at the end of them, the one who had destroyed half of his world, who had harmed his people, would be gone, and in the meantime Amity Park would be protected. Danny knew he had gotten the better half of the deal, with Clockwork practically on his side. Even with the… other requirements. Still, he couldn’t help but feel discouraged.)
So, he’d stay, and wait, and keep a careful eye on the Headmaster, and try to find the thing on the seventh floor, and figure out what spells worked on ghosts and if he could circumvent them, and figure out how to intercept at least one magical head of state, and, and, and…
Ugh.
“If we aren’t too busy,” said Danny.
“You know we’re here to help,” said Tucker, prodding Danny’s side. “And even if the rest of them don’t know about, you know, I think they’d be willing to help, too.”
“Within reason,” said Sam.
It was true. Surviving near-death experiences together tended to make people—well. Not necessarily friends, but something more than mere acquaintances. Allies, at the very least.
(Especially if a lot of other people had died at the same time, and the survivors were holding on to the relationships they still had with all their strength.)
“I know,” said Danny. He bit his lip. “There’s something on the seventh floor, I think. Need more time to figure out what, though.”
“We’ll keep an eye out,” promised Sam.
“And an ear, too,” said Tucker, tapping his. “I’m sure there’ll be lots of rumors and legends in a place like this.”
“Me too. Jazz has been interrogating the paintings, you know.” He frowned. “They’re so weird.”
“Everything about this is weird,” said Sam. “Can’t believe we thought ghosts were the whole extent of the supernatural. It seems so dumb, now.”
“Not really,” said Danny. “I mean, ghosts were all that we saw, and they didn’t really mention anything else.” He sighed. “Guess we should get ready for the feast or whatever?”
“Yeah,” said Sam, standing. “Good luck meeting your classmates. Housemates? How are we even supposed to say that?”
“I don’t know,” said Danny. He sighed. “At least we each have at least one person from Casper with us.”
“That’s true,” said Tucker. “Can’t say I feel like I have much in common with Star, though. Other than,” he gestured, vaguely, “all the Amity Park stuff.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “And you think I have a lot in common with Dash?”
“You have a lot in common with Valerie,” offered Tucker.
Sam shrugged. “We do both fight ghosts.”
Tucker’s grin turned slightly wicked. “And have a crush on the same guy.”
“Take a walk off a
Danny let himself smile. It had been a while since the three of them had gotten some good banter in. It was hard to verbally spar when you were depressed.
.
Sitting next to Paulina at an otherwise empty table felt strange. But it would feel even stranger to sit not next to Paulina at the very large empty table. Danny let his eyes drift over to the other three house tables. It seemed that the others were of the same opinion, sitting together in little, painfully awkward clusters.
All the close friend groups had been pulled apart, after all.
“Danny,” said Paulina. Her voice wavered at the end.
“Yeah?”
“The wizard kids will have cliques.”
“I mean, yeah, they’re still human, right?” And even ghosts formed groups.
Paulina nodded and clenched her jaw. “We’re going to get into one,” she said, firmly. “We’ll have to find the best one, and fast, otherwise we’ll wind up at the bottom of the pecking order. You know how much that sucks.”
“Yeah,” said Danny, his eyebrows raised. He was a little surprised to be included.
“The wizards we’ve met so far are pretty weird. You know how to deal with weird.”
“Uh,” said Danny. “Is this a strategy thing? Isn’t it a bit too late for that?”
“It’s never too late to salvage social standing, and we haven’t even started,” said Paulina. “Anyway, you’re the backup plan, in case they’re aliens who don’t fall for my charm.” She put a hand to her heart and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Should we even use charm like that here? I mean, since it’s a class, now.”
“Hmf. I’m good at that, too.” She examined her fingernails. “We’ll probably attract a bunch of people, just because we’re here and visible and new. We just need to make sure that people stay interested in us.”
“I’m not sure I want attention, Paulina.”
“Then pay attention and follow my lead. If you’re in the right clique, you can fade into the background. Like Star. No one notices the stuff she gets up to. They’re all too focused on yours truly. As they should be.”
This was true, actually. People didn’t really pay any attention to Star, except in her person as Paulina’s satellite. Even Danny, before becoming Phantom and gaining a new perspective on life and the people in it, hadn’t.
“Besides,” continued Paulina, “now that we, well.” She didn’t quite blush. “You guys don’t suck as much as I thought you did.”
“Uh, thanks. You, too?”
Wow. That was quite possibly the worst response he could have had.
Paulina sighed heavily.
However, she was distracted from whatever she might have said to him by the first of the Hogwarts students coming in. Paulina turned her attention away, her eyes flicking from one set of green and silver highlights to the next. Whenever a student looked their way she smiled and waved, pouring on the charm.
Danny didn’t know how she did it. Social engineering was never going to be his strong point.
(Perhaps he could set Paulina and Star on the Minister of Magic’s trail. They might have more luck.)
Before he could follow the train of thought, they were surrounded. In a simply physical sense. There was no malice and very little aggression from the students that sat near them, more than one of whom had prefects badges. Still, Danny did have to fight down a knee-jerk reaction. He saw Paulina shift uncomfortably as well, and he gave her robe what he hoped was a steadying tug.
She returned it with a tight smile.
There wasn’t much time to talk before Professor McGonagall stood up with the hat and started calling names. Everyone went very quiet during the sorting, except for the cheer that rose with the hat’s every shout.
Then there was food. A lot of food. Most of it was recognizable, but some of it was sort of weird. Many things were pumpkin flavored. There was even something Danny was fairly certain was pumpkin juice.
He didn’t know how to feel about that.
Paulina took the time to engage in social engineering. Danny took the time to watch. They were both watched back, of course, but Paulina naturally drew more attention.
However, there was one boy who kept staring at Danny. He was about their age and had pale blonde hair. Really pale blonde hair.
(Danny had thought Star and Dash were blonde.)
“You’re Daniel Fenton, correct?” asked the boy.
“Um. Yes. And you are?”
“Draco Malfoy. I’m the fifth-year prefect.”
“Oh, Draco like the constellation?”
Draco blinked. “Yes.”
“Did your parents like astronomy a lot, then?”
“Astrology,” corrected Draco. “Astronomy is what muggles do.”
Danny carefully forced down the white-hot rage he felt at that statement. Yeah, he had more than a normal admiration for astronomy, and, therefore, a more intense than normal reaction to astronomy and astrology being confused, but magic was real, apparently, so maybe astrology wasn’t useless. Right. Yeah. And they were both about stars, planets, and space. Nothing to get mad at.
“It’s been a tradition in my mother’s family for generations,” Draco was saying, “although we occasionally make some allowances for other traditions. My mother’s name is Narcissa, for example. Is there anything similar in your family?”
“Dad’s side does ‘J’ names for the first born. Jazz got stuck with that.”
The boy’s eyebrows went up. “You have a sister? She isn’t magical?”
“Magical enough to haunt me,” said Danny.
“Pardon?”
“She died. She’s around here somewhere, though.” He gestured vaguely. “Didn’t want to be around big crowds. I think she said she was going to hang out with Myrtle?”
“Myrtle? Do you mean Moaning Myrtle? Who haunts the bathrooms?”
This time, the reaction Danny suppressed was a cringe, the emotion embarrassment on behalf of the young witch ghost. “She just introduced herself as Myrtle. Well, Myrtle Warren, but… Yeah. It’s kind of rude to describe someone as moaning, isn’t it?”
The boy puffed up, slightly, clearly offended.
Oh, dear.
.
The Americans were… interesting, Harry thought.
Ron and Hermione had sat near them as part of their ‘prefect duties,’ with Harry and therefore Ginny and Neville following after.
Well. That may have had more to do with curiosity than anything else.
They introduced themselves by their first names only. Dash, Valerie, and Sam. Dash was… well. Harry had encountered people like him both before and after coming to Hogwarts. For example, McClaggen. Harry hadn’t ever interacted much with McClaggen, even if they were in the same house, but Dash definitely gave off the same feeling. Meanwhile, Valerie just sort of glared at everyone, resisting all attempts at conversation while tearing at her food with extreme aggression. Sam had managed to engage Hermione and Katie Bell in a conversation about dark magic that was getting Hermione progressively more flustered.
Harry couldn’t tell if it was because of the misconceptions Sam had about magic in general, or because Sam seemed to think some kinds of dark magic should be legal.
He was starting to get a very bad feeling about these Americans.
.
“Hey,” whispered Tucker, while the students around them were distracted by something a rather round ghost was saying.
“What?” whispered Star.
“Is it just me, or is everyone here sort of depressed? Like, I can understand us being depressed, but…”
“No, no it’s not just you. Wasn’t there something about a student death? Some kind of freak accident.”
“Oh,” said the student sitting across from them. “You heard about Cedric.”
.
Danny wondered if he could get to the Minister of Magic through Dolores Umbridge. He hadn’t gotten a good read on her during their very brief encounters the previous week, but now... She gave off the impression of having some kind of political power. His understanding was that the headmaster had a lot of influence among the wizards and witches of this country, so for her to be interrupting him like that…
Or maybe he was like Danny and weak against social awkwardness.
Also, her speech seemed to have a deeper meaning he couldn’t decode. He didn’t understand wizarding culture or their political climate enough, despite his research.
Eh. He’d have to get a better grasp of her personality and position. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be too hard. He did have a class with her.
.
“The events of last spring have left a mark on the whole school,” said Severus Snape into the muffled quiet of the Slytherin common room, his voice just barely more emotive than during the placement test he had given the Casper High students, “and no doubt on many of your home lives as well. I want you to know that if you have any… concerns… regarding the behaviors of fellow students or… more sensitive topics, you can come to me.”
The man blinked slowly at them.
“That is all,” he said, finally, and with an overly dramatic swish of his cloak he departed.
The room quickly filled with light chatter, students breaking off into little cliques, some of them slipping away down shadowy corridors.
Paulina tugged him towards one of those groups.
“Hi, Pansy,” she said, giving the girl a little wave, “hi, Draco. We were wondering if you guys could show us around? We were told our stuff would be moved here, but…” She trailed off, shrugging elegantly.
Danny tried to echo the movement.
He most likely did not succeed.
(It wasn’t like he could tell. His superpowers did not include seeing himself from the outside—Or maybe they did. There could be a spell for that, he supposed.)
He had to admit, as the prefects made a (just slightly supercilious) show of presenting the Slytherin dormitories to them, that he rather liked the space. It was surprisingly well-ventilated and warm, but there was still a general air of closeness, of security of bone-deep chill that spoke so well to his ghost half.
Of course, a lot of that would probably evaporate once Danny tried to sleep in a room with half a dozen strangers, but, well, he’d deal with that when he got there.
.
Magic was great and all, but Tucker would trade it all away in a second if only to get his PDA to work properly.
In the tent formed by his bedsheet and his body, Tucker hissed and rapped on the staticky screen, hoping an impact adjustment would do… something. He didn’t know what. The last three hadn’t done anything.
The way the metal casing was heating up under his hand was disturbing. Quickly, he thumbed the power button. He didn’t have a lot of these left, and he wanted to be able to use them to communicate with Danny and Sam. He missed their late-night Doom sessions.
(Along with everything else about his life in Amity Park. He at least had the power to make talking to his friends possible. The rest? Not so much.)
He groaned into his pillow. He’d been working on this off and on all week. Another night wouldn’t matter in the long run.
Maybe one of his classes would help him understand what he was doing wrong.
.
Sam had sort of enjoyed needling Hermione (the girl reminded her a lot of Jazz), even if she knew she shouldn’t, but the nasty fight between some of the fifth year boys in the common room had really ruined the mood. Hermione’s friend, Harry, was apparently some sort of celebrity. Like, in the same way Phantom had been a celebrity following Walker’s invasion.
So. Not really a great thing for him.
Ugh. Sympathy. Feelings. She sighed and stared up at the red and gold ceiling. If the color scheme didn’t do her in…
.
Danny met Jazz in the air over the school.
“I didn’t see you much today,” he said, twisting hands that he is keeping carefully transparent.
“Yeah,” said Jazz. “I’m just… I’m still adjusting. I think you’ll like Myrtle, by the way. She’s lonely, but fun. I think there might actually be a bit of ectoplasm in her, believe it or not.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She can flood the toilets, apparently. Although… I’m not sure if she meant the toilets themselves, or just the room in general.” She frowned. “Because she said something about sinks…” She shook her head. “Not important. Want to hear what she told me about the secret underground room and the giant snake skeleton? Not to mention all the other ridiculous stuff that’s happened here. If this is ‘safer,’ I don’t want to know what the rest of the wizarding world is like.”
“Like what happened in Amity, I guess,” said Danny. “But! Yes. Please tell me what you found out.”
.
Breakfast was nice. Especially when Sam, Danny, and Tucker compared schedules and realized that they had more classes together than they expected. Not with all three of them at once, but even just two of them together was better than nothing.
Yes, they got a lot of strange looks, especially when Jazz joined them. Evidently, eating breakfast with people from other houses just wasn’t done. Which was stupid, in Sam’s opinion. Actually, the whole house system felt increasingly stupid to Sam. She just didn’t understand the point. Was it for sports?
It was probably for sports. Sports were the root of all evil. Just look at Dash. He hadn’t had any sports for a whole Summer, and now he was acting like an actual decent human being.
Okay. That reasoning was suspect. Sam would have to come back to this when she was more awake. Early mornings were the worst.
Anyway. She had an acceptable breakfast with her friends and the people she’d grown to tolerate, then she set out to find History.
Which is how she overheard the conversation between Hermione and her friends.
“What’s S.P.E.W.?” she asked.
Hermione’s two friends glared at Sam. Probably for the sin of eating with people from another house. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Well,” said Hermione, just slightly hesitant. “It’s the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare…”
(Sam found a new cause to get incandescently angry about. Wizard society sucked.)
.
Harry was surprised to see five of the Americans, the three Gryffindors and the two Slytherins, standing by the door to Defense Against the Dark Arts, quietly talking to each other.
“What’re they doing, then?” asked Ron, scowling. “Consorting with the enemy?”
“Honestly, Ron,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes. “They aren’t the enemy. And they’re from the same place. It must be difficult, being so far away from home.”
Ron grunted and shrugged. “What d’you think Umbridge’ll be like, anyway?” he asked, changing the subject.
They filed into the classroom, the remainder of the class, including the Slytherins, their green looking horribly out of place amongst all the red trim, following shortly after. No one knew what Umbridge would be like, regarding punishment, so they didn’t want to immediately get on her bad side.
“Well,” she said, in a sickly-sweet tone, “good afternoon!”
There was a mumbled response.
Umbridge said “Tut, tut.” She actually said tut tut. Out loud. “That won’t do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”
“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” said the class, in something approaching unison and the least enthusiastic tone Harry had heard since Ron had tried to convince Hermione to help him with his Divination homework last year.
“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.”
Many of the students exchanged gloomy or exasperated looks. Lessons without wands tended to be uninteresting, with very few exceptions.
(Instead of quills, the Americans produced pencils and pens from their bookbags.)
Umbridge opened her handbag and pulled out her own wand, which was as stubby as she was, and tapped the blackboard. Words appeared on the board at once: Defense Against the Dark Arts, A Return to Basic Principles.
Harry couldn’t quite repress a groan. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one.
“Well now, your teaching in this subject had been rather disrupted, hasn’t it?” stated Professor Umbridge. She turned to face the class, her eyes briefly lingering on Harry, and then the Americans. “Or completely nonexistent. The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.
“You will be pleased to know, however,” she continued, still acting like she was talking to kindergarteners, “that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year.”
Each word Umbridge spoke made Harry’s heart drop farther. How could Dumbledore let this woman teach them? This year? When knowing how to fight dark magic was more important than ever?
Umbridge rapped the board again, and new words appeared. Course aims: 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used. 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
Oh. This year was going to be bad. As for the day, it got worse when Umbridge assigned a reading from what had to be the dullest book Harry had ever read. Including that one time—No. Focus.
He massaged his temples and wondered if he needed to get a new prescription for his glasses. The words on the page refused to stay sharp.
Harry looked up when the Americans started to whisper among themselves and caught sight of one of the most shocking things he had ever witnessed: Hermione not reading.
Soon, everyone was staring either at Hermione or the Americans, who had left off whispering after some pointed glaring from Umbridge but had replaced the whispers with passionate gesturing at something in the back of the book. Those, too, died down after a while, in favor of looking at Hermione.
Eventually, Umbridge could no longer ignore the situation.
“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?”
“Not about the chapter, no.”
“Well, we’re reading just now.” Umbridge smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “If you have other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class.”
“I’ve got a query about your course aims,” said Hermione, undeterred.
“And your name is—?”
“Hermione Granger.”
“Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully.”
“Well, I don’t. There’s nothing written up there about using defensive spells.”
“There’s nothing in the book about using spells, either!” said the Slytherin boy, waving his copy angrily. “There aren’t even any of the, um.” He paused and looked at Sam for a second.
“Incantations,” said Sam. “I mean, that’s what I’d call them? I don’t know the official term.”
Umbridge inhaled through her teeth.
“Using defensive spells?” she asked, voice pitched unnaturally high. “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss—”
“And what about outside of the classroom?” interrupted the Slytherin boy.
“Like, this is supposed to teach us how to not die, right?” asked the girl next to him, examining her fingernails.
“You have to practice self-defense to actually get good at it,” agreed Valerie, crossing her arms. “What’s the point of this class if we’re not going to actually learn how to do stuff?”
“Yes,” agreed Hermione, “surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”
“Students,” gritted Umbridge, “will raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class.”
At once, a dozen hands went up.
“Miss Granger?” Umbridge asked, voice dangerous.
“Isn’t the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts to practice defensive spells?”
“Miss Granger,” said Umbridge. “As you are not a Ministry-trained educational expert, you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of this, or any, class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have—”
“I really doubt that,” interjected Ron.
Umbridge took another deep breath. “You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—”
“What’s the use of that?” demanded Harry, loudly. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be in a—”
“Hand, Mr. Potter!”
Predictably, Umbridge turned her back on him as soon as he thrust his fist into the air. Instead, she called on Dean Thomas.
(The part of Harry’s brain that wasn’t vibrating in frustration noted that the Americans were passing notes between each other.)
“Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” he asked, once she had gotten done with interrogating him about his name. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free—”
“Do you expect to be attacked in class?”
Harry was very tempted to say yes, considering that three of his four previous DADA teachers had wound up attacking him.
… Did Professor Lupin’s werewolf form having a go at him bring the count up to four?
Umbridge talked over Dean. “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, with the air of someone who was about to do just that, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”
The Slytherin boy stood up, chair scraping across the floor. Sam, next to him, had gone pale. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around her wand.
“Sit down, Mr.-?”
“I’m leaving,” said the boy, not deigning to give Umbridge his name. He picked up his bag. “Maybe I can sit in on an actually useful lesson. I mean, if I can figure out how to make a pineapple tap dance, I can get it to fly into someone’s face. At least that’s something.”
“Sit down,” repeated Umbridge. “I do not know what your classmates have told you, but you, all of you,” she said to the class, “have been frightened into believe that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—”
“We haven’t been frightened into believing anything!” exclaimed Dash, also rising from his seat. “Our entire city was attacked! We need—"
“Which was a tragedy. One that is unlikely to be repeated! Now, sit down.”
The other Americans stood up.
“We heard about Cedric Diggory, you know,” said the Slytherin girl, coldly. “And a lot of the people who attacked us were never caught.”
“We also know about the giant murder snake that apparently lived here,” said the boy.
“I, for one, can’t believe that wizards are less likely to be murders than any other human,” said Valerie. “If normal people need to take self-defense classes, I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to.”
“The government preventing people from learning how to defend themselves is historically a bad sign,” said Sam. “Of course, slavery is also a bad sign, and you all have been ignoring that for God only knows how long. There are actual slaves in this school.”
“Wait,” said the Slytherin boy, horrified. “Are you serious? Is that what you were talking about before? Oh my God—"
“Children!” exclaimed Umbridge. “Your hands are not up.”
The looks Umbridge got after that outburst were filled with incredulity, not
Parvati Patil raised her hand.
“Yes?” asked Umbridge.
Harry was beginning to wonder if she was looking for punishment.
“Isn’t there supposed to be a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.?”
“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to—”
The room exploded into a flurry of objections, spurred on by the Americans.
“Who exactly do you think is going to attack you?” shouted Umbridge over the ruckus.
“I don’t know!” shouted Harry back, even though part of him knew this was a bad idea. “How about Lord Voldemort?”
Silence.
“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter?”
“Points?” whispered Dash. No one else spoke.
The Slytherin boy was looking at Harry with something like hunger in his eyes.
“Now, let me make a few quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard had returned from the dead—”
“He wasn’t dead,” said Harry, “but yeah, he’s returned!”
“Do not make matters worse for yourself, Mr. Potter!” exclaimed Umbridge shrilly. “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.”
“It is NOT a lie! I saw him! I fought him!”
Glee spread across Umbridge’s toad-like face. “Detention, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow evening. Five— What do you think you’re doing?”
“Um,” said the Slytherin boy, who like the rest of the Americans was halfway to the door. “Leaving. Like we said?” He hadn’t stopped walking.
“You will do no such thing! All five of you will be joining Mr. Potter for detention.”
“Pass.” His eyes flicked towards Harry again.
“Excuse me?”
“We have better things to do than humor someone who’s refusing to do their job,” said Sam.
The classroom doors slammed shut right in front of the Slytherin boy’s nose, and he took half a step back.
“Tomorrow evening, at five o’clock, all six of you will join me for detention in my office. Now. The rumors of that Dark wizard’s return are lies. The Ministry guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, if someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, come see me outside of class hours, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. Now, kindly, continue your reading. Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners.’”
The Americans slunk back to their seats but pulled a variety of colorful transfiguration textbooks from their bags instead of Defensive Magical Theory.
With an air of triumph, Umbridge sat down behind her desk.
Harry stood up.
“Harry, no!” whispered Hermione, tugging at his sleeve.
Harry ignored her. (Which was, in all honesty, a stupid move. Ignoring Hermione rarely had positive consequences.)
(In his defense, the preceding several minutes had been… stressful.)
“So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?”
“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accid—”
“Just like Amity Park, huh?”
“A tragic accident,” continued Umbridge, voice full of ice.
“It was murder.” Harry was shaking. He felt like he was under a spotlight, and he wanted to be anywhere but here, talking about this. “Voldemort killed him, and you know it.”
For a second, Harry thought Umbridge would start screaming, but instead her lips curled up into a parody of a smile. “Come here, Mr. Potter, dear.”
As Harry walked forward, Umbridge started scribbling on a small, pink, piece of paper, angled so that Harry couldn’t see what she was writing. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and Harry flinched.
The… What were they even doing? Why were they sitting like that?
“Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,” said Umbridge, holding out a roll of pink paper.
Harry took it from her without a word, turned on his heel, threw open the door, and—
Was almost trampled by the Americans all escaping the room at once.
Dash grabbed him by the upper arm, and soon all six of them were running down the hallway. It took several seconds for Umbridge to start shrieking, and, by that point, the Slytherin boy had pulled them all into a secret passage that someone who hadn’t been at Hogwarts for even a month shouldn’t know about.
“Wow,” said Sam. “You work fast, Danny.”
“Thanks,” said Danny, giving her a thumbs up. “Got to thank the Bloody Baron, though.” He paused. “Still can’t believe that’s his actual name…”
“Sorry about dragging you with us, by the way,” said the Slytherin girl. “I’m Paulina. This is Danny. You already know these three, I think?”
“Er,” said Harry, not at all sure how to deal with this situation. Part of him just wanted to shout. He was still vibrating with suppressed rage.
“I didn’t really catch your name in all that, though,” she continued, gesturing behind them.
“It’s Harry. Potter.”
It was… interesting, how his name didn’t spark any recognition in them. At least not at first. Then Danny stiffened and—
“The poltergeist is coming this way,” he said, mildly.
“You can tell?” asked Paulina.
“I could always tell. Why do you think I was always in the bathroom when ghosts were around?”
Valerie scowled, and shot a truly venomous glare at her watch.
“Do you think we can convince him to bug Umbridge?” asked Sam.
Danny shot a look of surprise at her. Then he smiled. “Maybe,” he said. He turned back to Harry. “It was nice meeting you. I hope we can talk again sometime. It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and, well…” He shrugged.
Harry suddenly remembered that the Americans were here, for the most part, because their families were dead.
“But you should probably track down Professor McGonagall sooner than later. I’d bet that Umbridge put a timer on that. If that’s possible. Is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” said Harry, suddenly a hundred times more anxious about the paper clenched in his hand.
“Gosh, imagine if Lancer could do that,” said Dash.
“I’d take Lancer any day,” said Danny. “He actually tried to teach stuff. Anyway, I’m going to go head off Peeves. You might want to go around. I hear he can be kind of a jerk?”
“Right,” said Harry, walking further down the secret passage, because he had been here for a proper length of time and had learned about it properly.
… Although he supposed that asking the ghosts was a proper way to go about learning the secret passages.
No, he had to focus on how to explain getting kicked out of class to Professor McGonagall, not on the weirdest interaction with Slytherins he’d had to date.
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Tell it to my heart
Here's to the one with the scorching stare of love, blood, and vengeance. Eyes killer cold, blue and bare.
Art credits: couldn't find the artist but if anyone knows the source for it, please do let me know so that I can add it here
pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!reader AU - Mafia
warnings: angst, implied abuse, injuries, blood, alcohol, death, suicide, drug usage, addict, recovery, smut, gore, trauma, violence, heavy smut.
Author’s note: This fanfiction is going to be a slow build story with an irregular upload scheme. I am not sure when I will be able to update. I might upload multiple chapters in a single week or not upload for a few weeks. It depends on what my daily schedule is and it is very dynamic. This story is for a mature audience and will have a lot of problematic themes. If this is triggering to you, please refrain from interacting with this story. The content warning is for the entire story and not just for this chapter. Again, I cannot emphasize enough, this is a slow burn story. In this story, you will find some changes in mannerisms among characters. Gojo Satoru will be smoking and drinking. Yuji and Sukuna will be 2 different people but are related by blood. The main reason is, I do not see Yuji being part of a Mafia unless he had no other choice. The cursed spirits will be human in appearance.
Author’s note for this chapter: I crossed 50 followers and that makes me really happy! It's a small number compared to many blogs here but it's a start!!! I also got the first ask request that I will be posting tomorrow. Heavy smut in this chapter. Enjoy!! ;)
Chapter 7 - Rules
“Found you.” A pair of hands grab you in a dark room. You try to scream but no sound comes out. The room illuminates and you see a pool in front of you. You struggle against your captor but it leads to nothing. You are dropped into the water. Not again. This can’t be happening right now. You try to struggle in the water, someone was embracing you from behind and pulling you down. You look behind to see a rotting corpse that resembled Asami. You try to struggle against her but it’s of no use. You look up to the surface of the water as two hands are also pushing you down. You grab onto the hands and pull, the person pushing you down, falls into the water. You see a sinister grin on their face. It was the face that was haunting you for the past several weeks, it was Mahito. Your lungs start to give up and you gasp for air. Your eyes open and you see a faint light from the window. You realize that it was another nightmare. You’ve been having nightmares for many days after the pool incident. You hadn’t slept well for several days and it was visible. You had bags under your eyes. You get out of bed to freshen up for the day. There was no point going back to sleep. Once you finished brushing your teeth, you get ready to go to the gym. If someone told you that you would voluntarily go to the gym instead of sleeping in a few days ago, you would think they were drunk or high. But now that you had the time, you decided to spend it in a way that would be beneficial to you. You realized why Gojo insisted you go to the gym, you had to get stronger.
It was 6 am when you entered the gym. No one was around and you were relieved. You start with some light stretching and warm-up exercises that Sukuna had taught you. You did not feel burnt out just by doing them anymore. You finish your set and hop onto a treadmill. You set the inclination to 2, set the desired pace, put on your earphones for some music, and start running. You probably ran for about 15 minutes but you were sweating profusely. The endorphins from the run kept you going. You were breathless but you wanted to keep pushing forward. Another 15 minutes go by and you are drenched in sweat. You decide to keep going for more. You hoped that by exhausting yourself, you would probably sleep better. You think about raising the elevation when you feel the treadmill slowly come to a still. You were confused as to how that could happen. You remove your earphones and try to fiddle with the buttons.
“That won’t work” You hear Gojo’s voice behind you. You turn around to find him standing a few feet away from the treadmill with the power chord in his hand.
“Do you always like messing around? I thought you were the one who wanted me to get stronger.” You get off the treadmill and wipe your sweat off with a towel.
“You look like you haven’t slept for days. This way you’ll only exhaust yourself. It is counterproductive to do this without enough rest.” He drops the power chord. “You’ve been doing this every day for the past 2 weeks without taking any day off. It’s the weekend, give it a break.”
“I know but I feel fine.” You walk towards him to plug in the power chord.
“Look at yourself in the mirror (Y/N), you look like a raccoon.” He grabs your wrist as you try to bend down.
“Let go of me!” You squirm, trying to free yourself. He pulls you towards him and grabs you by the waist as he directly looks you in the eye.
“Are your coping mechanisms always self-destructive?” He holds you tightly as you try to wriggle out of his iron grip.
“Gojo, let go of me. I am drenched in sweat. This is gross.” You place your hands on his chest trying to push yourself off him.
“I thought you wanted to get away from trouble. Then why do you keep sabotaging yourself?” His grip on you got stronger as you push against him.
“Well. I changed my mind!” You glare at him. Why was he doing this? Why was he stopping you? All you were doing was working out.
“In that case, don’t mind me doing this.” Within a blink of an eye, his lips brush against yours. You were so surprised that you did not know how to respond. He lets go of your waist as his hands cup your face and pull you in to deepen the kiss. He tasted exactly like how remembered, honey and mint with a faint hint of smoke. Your body reacts involuntarily and your fingers find themselves entangled in his hair. A part of your mind was screaming at you. This was your boss and not just that, he was the reason why you are where you are. This was bad. You knew it. But yet you wanted it. You were surprised that you weren’t listening to your voice of reason. As his hands slide down to the waistband of your pants, you realize that you were sweating. You break the kiss and Gojo leans in for more. You turn your head away.
“What? Don’t overthink this (Y/N), I know you want this as much as I do.” He whispers.
“I do, but first I need a shower.” You pant as the kiss left you breathless. Silence enveloped the room. You could hear his breathing and yours. Gojo blinks at you and then starts laughing loudly. “ (Y/N)... hahaha… always subverting expectations.” He cups your face with his right hand and strokes your cheek with his thumb.
“It’s not that funny. I am sweaty and sticky.” You scrunched your nose.
He kisses your nose. “It is a little funny and I don’t care.”
“But I do.” You push him away.
“Fine. We’ll do this your way.” He picks you up and throws you against his shoulders.
“GOJO!! Put me down. I can walk!!”
“Shhhh... You’ll wake the whole house.” He walks towards your room. “I am not letting you get away this time.”
As he enters your room, he sets you down. You glare at him. “That was a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
“No. It wasn’t.” He grins like an idiot. “You have 15 minutes.”
“Huh?”
“You wanted to shower, right? You have 15 minutes. If you aren’t out in 15 minutes, I am coming in.” He winks at you.
You roll your eyes at him. “You are unbelievable!” You grab your towel. Before you could go inside, Gojo stops you.
“Now what?” You roll your eyes.
“Don’t keep me waiting. I don’t like to wait.” His thumb brushes against your lips and he gives you a peck on the cheek.
You feel your face flush and you rush into the bathroom. You lean against the door to calm yourself down. This was happening. You weren’t going to chicken out. You needed a distraction and he was the perfect distraction. You turn on the shower and you quickly rinse yourself. You were thorough and you decided to quickly shave as well to be safe. Satisfied with yourself, you shut the shower off and dry yourself off with the towel. You try to calm your pattering heart as you wrap the towel around you. You slowly walk out of the bathroom to find Gojo lying on the bed. As he realizes that you were done with your shower, he jumps out of the bed and walks towards you.
“Come here.” It felt more like an order than a request. You walk towards him and stop as you stand a few inches away from him. You didn’t know why but you suddenly felt very nervous. Maybe it was because you had nothing on except a towel. He leans in for a kiss and you stand on your tiptoe to meet him. His lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against your own. You could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath your nose, fingers carding through your hair as you breathed each other in. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. Your hands reach the hem of his shirt, slowly tugging it upwards. He breaks the kiss and helps you remove the shirt off him. His lips and hands find you. You felt your heart flutter as his lips move from your lips to your jaw and finally to your neck peppering kisses along the way. He pulls your hair back, exposing your neck further as he gently bites the sweet spot that brought butterflies in your stomach. Your hand sneaks through the waistband of his sweatpants to find his swollen cock. You wrap your fingers around his girth. You found his skin smooth as you began to stroke it slowly. You hear him groan against your neck. You were surprised at your boldness as you never were this bold with your former partners.
“You’re such a tease, (Y/N).” He pulls your hand out of his pants and resumes kissing you. His hands grab your breasts over your towel. You wanted more. You press your body against his, hoping he would understand. He swiftly pulls the towel off you.
“So pretty.” He rubs his thumb over your swollen nipple. “So eager.” He pinches them between his fingers and rolls them. You bite your lips to hold back your moan. His fingers made you feel like electric pulses were coursing through your body. You felt yourself getting moist in between your legs. His hands cascade down to your hips and he slowly pushes you to lie down on the bed. Your shaky breath and flushed face stroked his ego. He bends down and places light, feather-like kisses on your collar bone slowly moving to your breasts. His hand strokes the inside of your thighs. As his mouth latches onto your breast, his fingers graze your slit over the first signs of your arousal. You gasp in shock as your breast and cunt are stimulated. "P-please… more." You whisper breathlessly.
His long fingers slowly spread you open, stroking your inner lips. He was being agonisingly slow. "You're so responsive. So wet, just for me." His fingers explore your most intimate parts while you squirm under him. His fingers seem to touch everywhere except where you wanted it the most. Your hips moved to guide him and he enjoyed watching you be needy.
"Patience, sweet thing." He pulls his fingers away from you and pops it in his mouth. He sucks on his own finger and winks at you. He then places his finger right on top of your clit. "Is this where you want me to touch you?" He flicks your bud.
You let out a small moan.
"I'll take that as a yes." He gently rubs circles around your clit with two fingers. Occasionally, he would rub your clit. At this point, you were coming undone with just his fingers.
"Do you want to come?" He gently pinches your clit. You moan loudly. "Fuck, yes… Gojo…please.."
He slowly increases his pace. You felt a familiar sensation growing in your belly. You were getting closer to the edge. You feel his on of his finger enter you. It slid in easily because of your arousal. He slowly pumped the finger in and out of you as his other hand was busy playing with your clit. He set a steady rhythm that kept you on the edge but didn't let you finish. This had to be torture. You feel a second finger enter you. "G-Gojo…" You looked at him with pleading eyes.
He curls both his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot. You clench the sheets of your bed. He repeats the motion and pinches your clit between two of his fingers. A wave of pleasure crashes over you as you feel your orgasm coursing through your body. You are panting, trying to catch your breath. This was way better than what you could do to yourself with your own fingers.
"We're not done yet, peach." He spreads your legs wide open. He kisses your inner thigh, biting it in places. You were sure that he was leaving marks down there. You didn't care. Right now, you were high on your pleasure and wanted more. Gojo was more than happy to deliver. You feel his hot breath on your aching pussy. You bite your lip in anticipation.
"G-Gojo… are you - ah!" His tongue licks up your folds, cutting off your question. Gojo moves his tongue across, in, and out of your pussy with confidence, knowing just how to push and pull your most sensitive areas that would bring you the highest pleasure. You can feel your juices flowing, and the sounds of your arousal fill the bedroom. Your fingers lock into his white locks as you pull him closer.
He stops briefly. "Your moans sound so sweet, (Y/N). He praises you as he licks his lips.
"It's time you made more~" he warned, before doubling his head back and slipping down lapping at your pussy. It didn't take long for you to start squirming and whining helplessly and he adored the way you squirmed under his touches. His tongue rolled slowly against your clit as you feel his fingers enter you again. The sensations were overwhelming. Without any warning, you feel him nip on your clit with his teeth. Your back arches and high pitched cries escape from you as you've never experienced this kind of stimulation. Gojo knew just when you were on the cusp of that climax... and with a single, well-timed flick of his tongue, the man sent you over the edge. With a strained cry of euphoria, you found yourself shuddering vigorously against Gojo's lips.
"T-too much…." You were shaking.
"Too much? Peach, we've just started." He chuckles. His face glistened as it was coated with your juices. He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He pulled away from the kiss and turned you around. You laid on your stomach.
He places himself between your legs. "I am going to take you from the back."
He pulls your hips towards him and you feel his hard dick against your slit. He squeezes your ass. "Head down." He pushes your head to the mattress. You feel him squeeze your ass again. "So this is what you've been hiding under all those tight skirts. Always teasing and tormenting me... You know how hard it is to focus around you when you sway your hips like a minx?" You let out a yelp as he spanks your ass. You hear the noise of crinkling plastic. You turn your head a bit to see him slip his sweatpants down while he puts a condom on his cock. He was big. Your heart began to hammer against your chest. It had been a long time since you had sex.
"What did I say? Head down." He pushed your head back down to the mattress. You feel his dick press against your entrance. He slides it up and down your slit coating his dick with your arousal. "You're... so... fucking... wet." He places his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes his cock into your aching hole. Even with all the foreplay fucking, you were still tight around his dick, and he groaned as he slid his full length into you.
"Too big… fuck…Sa-satoru" You felt the air get knocked out of your lungs. He was going to ruin you and you wanted to be ruined.
"It's... all you. You.. did this. Fuck." he growled in between hard thrusts of his hips. He had an arm firmly around your waist and pulled you down sharply each time for deeper penetration. He pulls out of you completely just to angle your hips up just slightly before ramming back in your pussy.
"Fuck! Yes! Fuck! Right there!" You pushed your hips back into him as you felt the pressure build up inside of you. Your insides clench against his cock. "(Y/N)... fuck… if you do that, I won't be able to… " He thrusts faster. You quivered as another orgasm washed over you. Gojo pulls out of you and flips you on your back.
"God, I can't fucking stop, (Y/N)" He slams his full length into you before you could catch your breath. He pulled all the way out and did it again, but this time you pressed back into him, eager to have him fill your cunt once more. You rocked your hips back and his long strokes grew shorter and faster, your body bouncing slightly with each push. Your back arches and you lean into him, your arms wrapped tightly around him, nails raking his back. You felt his cock swell and twitch as his thrusting became erratic and deeper. It triggered your own orgasm, of which you didn't know how many she had had that night. Your pussy clenched around his dick, milking it all. He groaned into your neck with a final thrust as he felt you continue to spasm around him. He kissed your neck and pulled his cock out of you. "You took that so well, peach. It's like your body was made just for me."
Drunk on pleasure and exhaustion, you feel your eyes betray you as you slowly drift into sleep before you could refute his statement.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
You were walking on an empty street, with groceries in your hand. You suddenly feel someone tugging your leg into the ground. You look down to see that you were walking on water. You see a decaying hand around your leg. With a final tug, you were pulled under. You were drowning and Asami was in front of you. "Strawberry Haze… Strawberry Haze" she kept repeating as her hands wrapped around your throat.
"(Y/N)... (Y/N)... wake up." You feel someone shaking you. You wake up, disoriented and look around. You see Gojo hovering above you. "You were having a nightmare." He brushed the hair off your face. You close your eyes to calm yourself. You realise that you were naked under your blanket. You open your eyes and tug the blanket closer to your body.
"Um… Gojo… what are you doing here?" You feel your face flush as you recollect what happened a few hours ago.
"Resting… I mean, I can't believe I am saying this but wooo you wore me out." He grinned.
"What time is it?" You sit up, still holding the blanket against your body to search for your phone on the nightstand.
"Around 12.30 pm. You slept for about 2 hours." He turns towards you.
"This isn't your style." You lay back down on the bed. If Gojo was slacking off, that means you could slack off as well.
"Mhm? No idea what you're talking about, peach."
"Staying back after sex. You're the wham, bam, thank you ma'am kinda guy." You turn around to lie on your stomach.
He bursts into laughter. "That's what you think of me?"
"I mean, it's true. I've seen it." You shrug.
"Fair point. But I can't really run away if you're living in my house can I?" He shrugs back.
"So now what? I am not good with this." You bit your lip and hoped he would have an answer. You knew he wasn't a relationship kinda man and neither were you in a position to be in a relationship at the moment.
"Good question. I was hoping you'd have an answer to it." He looked up at the ceiling of the room. "If I have to be honest, I would want to do this again in the future."
"Me too." You whisper.
"But (Y/N), I cannot emphasize enough that it would be just sex and nothing but that." He looked at you sincerely. His eyes gaze into yours, searching for an answer.
"I know. I am not looking for anything serious, Satoru."
"I know. Which is why I am here… instead of sneaking away." He chuckles.
You roll your eyes. "If we are doing this, we're going to need some ground rules."
Gojo sighs. "You really like rules, don't you? Fine. What rules do you propose?"
"First rule - no one can know about this. I cannot deal with people asking me questions about this and I would rather keep this a secret between us. Enough people outside already think that the reason I am around is because you are fucking me." You raise your index finger.
"People keep talking, (Y/N). Just zone them out and do what you want to do… but fine… this can be a secret. What's rule number two?"
"We need to establish a code word. If you or I want to have sex, we need to come up with a code for it." You raise your middle finger.
"Cool. I have it. Peaches. That's the code word. I am not negotiating it." He had a mischievous grin on his face.
"Ugh. Fine. Peaches it is. Three. Either of us can call this off whenever we want to." You raise your ring finger.
"That sounds fair. Anything else?"
You shake your head. "That's it. Do you have any conditions or rules?"
"As a matter of fact, yes I do." Gojo rolls himself on top of you.
"One, if we are going to do this often, you're going to have to go on birth control." He kisses your collarbone.
"Okay. Sounds fair. We wouldn't want to take any risks."
"Two, we can fuck whoever we want. No pettiness, jealousy or any unnecessary emotions. We aren't exclusive." He kisses the sweet spot on your neck.
"Okay." You whisper.
"Three, you should be open to trying new things with me. If you know what I mean." He winks.
"Um… okay but no involving other people in it. As long as it's just the two of us, I am open to trying new things."
"You drive a hard bargain, (Y/N). But fine, just the two of us." He kisses your lips marking the completion of the agreement between the two of you. "We are going to have so much fun, Peach." He slowly pulls the blanket off you. As the blanket comes off, you hear a knock on your door.
"(Y/N)! Can you help me with my social essay? Megumi has gone out for a jog and I want to finish this as soon as possible." You hear Yuji outside the door.
"Fuck that kid." You hear Gojo mutter.
"Um.. yes.. Can you give me a few minutes, Yuji? I'll come to your room and help you out. I …um… I just got out of the shower." You lie.
"Yeah okay. Please hurry." You hear him leave.
"Now where were we?" Gojo leans into you.
You place your hands against his chest. "You heard him. I need to hurry. I need to wash up and go help him." You get out of bed and find your towel on the floor. You grab the towel and wrap it around you.
Gojo groans. "This isn't fair."
"I'll make it up to you. But wait, you had a condom with you today. Where did that come from? Do you always carry one with you?" You wondered if he came to the gym with an agenda.
"Got it from my office when you were in the shower." He smirked. "Contact Shoko about birth control. If I ask her, she'll get suspicious." Gojo picks his shirt from the floor and wears it.
"Fine. Now go, I gotta go as well." You push him out of your room.
"Such a tease." He grumbles as he gets out of the door.
Before you close the door, you hear him say "until next time, peach. You can't run from me forever."
You sigh. You just kept getting deeper into his world even though you wanted to stay further away.
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo sensei#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk gojo#gojo fanfic
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hetalia college AU headcanons
North Italy/Feliciano Vargas:
Fine Arts
Considered joining his brother Lovino in culinary arts, but wanted to try something outside of the Vargas family restaurant business, so here he is now
Feliciano’s favourite thing to draw is people, so his sketchbook is usually filled with drawings of his friends, family, and the occasional cat
Likes watching conspiracy videos on Youtube before bed, but scares himself to the point where he has to camp with Ludwig for the night
His Spotify playlist for when he’s working on coursework ranges from Monteverdi to songs from the Veggietales soundtrack
He’s usually really chatty, but is radio silent whenever he falls sick (which is pretty often, his immune system is terrible), and it’s unnerving as hell
Tells his professors that he’s ‘resting his eyes’ a lot to cover up for the fact that he can’t stay awake in class
Somehow, he’s friends with everyone on campus
Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt:
Mechanical Engineering, because he’s a nerd like that
Ludwig’s notes are a work of art. He meticulously colour codes and binds all his material, and often receives offers to buy his notes during exam periods
Tends to forget to eat, so he eats a lot whenever he has the time to. His roommate Feliciano’s usually kind enough to share, his brother Gilbert not so much
President of the Student Council, and uses his Council privilege to get away with bringing his dogs into his dorm room
People call him a square - he’s a rigid, straight-edge rule follower to a t, but football season is when Ludwig is really in his element. That’s when he and Gilbert bust out the jerseys, beer, and go absolutely ham in front of the TV
Secretly wants to quit Council to join the football team
Japan/Kiku Honda:
Kiku deliberated between Digital Animation and the more ‘traditional’ route of engineering before deciding that if he was going to suffer for three years he was going to suffer doing something he liked
He only has the motivation to study at night, so he games all day and mugs all night. He lives off a diet of Red Bull and cup noodles
Roomies with Alfred. The both of them throw the sickest gaming parties every Friday night, just so that they can trash their guests at Super Smash Bros
Has a whole bunch of anime keychains and pins hanging off his bag that probably weigh more than the actual contents of his bag. Kiku’s cousin Yao’s hair got caught in it once and it took a lot of screaming before they managed to pull him free
Somehow manages to maintain that 4.0 GPA with that shitty sleep schedule/diet of his? How does he do it
America/Alfred F Jones:
ASTROPHYSICS ALL THE WAY BABY!
Al really loves his course but he also really loves putting work off until the last minute. You can usually spot him camping outside the printing room trying to print an essay minutes before submission time, but it doesn’t matter because he usually gets by with a B anyway
Overloads the fuck on extra-curriculars and clubs, so he’s quite well known around campus. He’s in the football team, track team, is Vice-President of the Student Council, and President of the anime club
He’s the poster boy of the school. College website? Alfred. College pamphlets? Alfred. Anti-smoking advisory that’s hung up in every godforsaken toilet in college? Alfred. What can he do? He’s just too damn handsome.
The biggest Halloween fucker on campus. He shows up to class every Halloween without fail in the exact same Captain America costume as last year’s
England/Arthur Kirkland:
Literature with Creative Writing
Tends to come off as snobby, but is actually really nice when you get to know him better. He’ll show up to your dorm armed with a kettle and a box of teabags if you need a study buddy or just someone to talk to
He’s also a terrible chef. The student dorms have had 6 fire scares in the past term, and they’re all Arthur related incidents
Talks big about only reading fine literature but writes fanfiction in his dorm room every night. It’s a secret he’ll take to his grave, especially since TheSlytherinGentleman is one of the biggest Harry Potter fanfiction accounts on AO3 right now
His room smells like tea and regret, because he opted for a four person dorm and now he’s living with Francis, Antonio and Gilbert for the next two years
Argues that his half brother Alfred’s GPA is higher than his because “Literary arts is subjective”
France/Francis Bonnefoy:
Film student
Francis’s favourite past time is renting out old movies and watching it on the library’s old VCR. Netflix just doesn’t have that same a e s t h e t i c
Among the four of them in the same dorm, he is the only one with a skincare routine and a 10pm bedtime
The mom friend of the house. He’s the one to call for hangover remedies (Antonio), or if something gets broken (Gilbert), or if something’s on fire (Arthur)
Resident heartthrob. Receives the most amount of chocolates and gifts every Valentine’s Day, and is always happy to share
Francis, Gilbert and Antonio have a “bully Arthur day” every year to commemorate the day Arthur moved in with them. It’s Francis’ favourite day of the year (apart from Christmas)
Goes all out on decorations for Christmas. The whole dorm is like a palace once he’s done with it
China/Yao Wang:
Business student, though everyone says he should’ve taken culinary instead (jokes on them, he’s starting his own restaurant empire after college)
Yao’s stuffed toys take up 80% of his bed space
Irregular sleeper, and wakes up at really odd hours of the night. There’s nothing to do until daybreak and it’s hard to fall back asleep, so he just wanders aimlessly around his dorm and scares the living hell out of Ivan from time to time
Listens to music at max volume. Likes to start his day with aggressive death metal in order to help himself stay awake for morning classes
He destresses by cooking. There’s always tupperware boxes of fried rice/egg noodles stacked in the dorm kitchens during exam season
Always has backache. He claims that the chairs in the lecture halls suck, but his kid brother Leon tells him that he’s just an old man with back problems
Russia/Ivan Braginsky:
Medical student, but doesn’t look like it
Ivan keeps really gross photos in his phone to help him reference back to the stuff he’s learning in class, and it tends to scare unsuspecting friends
Has so many stories from his time as a hospital intern. It grosses people out, that’s why he loves to tell them
“Did I tell you about the time I had to help sew a man’s fingers back one by one after his hand was crushed by a steamroller”
Likes the sun, but doesn’t really like sports. He’s the medic for a bunch of sports teams, and he likes to sit and watch the games
There’s also never a week that goes by where Alfred doesn’t get hurt. Seriously, can that Jones kid chill?
Roomies with Yao. They’re the most functional room in the entire campus. No noise complaints, no dirty dishes, no undone laundry, and they PRIDE themselves on it
#hetalia#hetalia headcanons#aph#hws#kay writes#shut up kay#aph italy#aph germany#aph japan#aph america#aph england#aph france#aph china#aph russia#aph romano#aph spain#aph prussia#aph hong kong#feliciano vargas#ludwig beilschmidt#kiku honda#alfred f jones#arthur kirkland#francis bonnefoy#yao wang#ivan braginsky#lovino vargas#gilbert beilschmidt#leon wang#antonio fernandez carriedo
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