#current is the whole reason why her name even is ''hideaway''

[monotone-artist]

zaps u zaps u zaps u

[id: two digital drawings of a rain world oc, the current. they're a black, scrawny slugcat with tall ears, several cyan-tipped antenna across their body, and a blocky cyan pattern on their tail. in the first drawing he is sitting down, holding a spear which he has set on the ground in front of him. they are leaning their weight heavily on it, their face partially hidden by their arm. they're peering over their shoulder, glaring.

in the second drawing, the current is on all fours, their back arched and their head lowered, their face angrily scrunched up. all of the cyan bits on his body, including his eyes, are glowing, and sparks of electricity dance on his antenna. end id]

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

[dc41896]

Hideaway

Hey guys!! So I randomly had a dream that included Ransom even though I haven’t seen the movie yet (I know I’m trying lol). Although my whole dream wasn’t about him, this imagine is based off of a small part and hopefully you guys like it! 😊💕

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Black Reader

Warnings: None

“ARE YOU MAD?! YOU THINK ITS OK TO STORAGE FOOD LIKE THIS?!!,” Gordon Ramsey yelled at yet another restaurant owner while going through their pantry.

Shaking your head, you laugh in disbelief as the kitchen staff begins the blame game pointing fingers at everyone else on why things aren’t correct. While sitting at home on a Friday night watching tv might not be ideal for everyone, you had been looking forward to it all week.

Although you loved your job of being a kindergarten teacher, and your students, you definitely needed some me time on the weekends. Thus why you were currently snuggled under your blanket in your pajama shorts and an old graphic tee with your favorite snacks beside you and loving every minute of it.

Just as a commercial comes on, a strong knock on your front door slightly startles you from the noise as well as the fact that you weren’t expecting anyone. Making your way to your front door, you look through the peephole to meet an unpleasant surprise.

Dressed up in black pants and dress shoes along with a white button down shirt stained with red wine, there stood your best friend since 3rd grade, Ransom Drysdale, looking rich and smug as always.

“Cupcake!,” he smiled with open arms.

You hated that nickname ever since he gave it to you in high school, and he knew that too which is why he kept using it. Long story short, never ask Ransom to pretend to be your boyfriend so a not so secret admirer can leave you alone.

“Hugh,” you smile back, arms crossed in front of you as he rolls his eyes. Just as you hated “cupcake” he hated his first name, Hugh, which was all the ammunition you needed to annoy him.

“What are you doing here and what happened to your shirt?”

“Well, lets just say Candice isn’t my biggest fan right now,” he explains, walking into your apartment and sitting on the arm of your couch.

“Ok so I’m guessing that’s where the wine stain came from, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here when you have your own place you could be at right now.”

“Because she kicked me out of said place,” he sighs rubbing his temple. “We we’re having dinner and one thing led to another and she kicked me out, which is why I’m here.”

Knowing him for so long, you knew when Ransom wasn’t fully telling the truth. But in a situation like this, you thought it best to just leave it alone.

“Here give me your shirt,” you finally speak after a few moments of silence.

“Cupcake?!,” he gasps, hand on his chest and signature smirk across his face. “You know I always had my suspicions that you might have a thing for me.”

“Give me your shirt so I can wash it genius,” you retort holding your hand out. Laughing, he unbuttons his shirt before placing it in your hands.

“Let me get this started and I’ll bring you a new pair of clothes. Until then there’s food and drinks in the fridge, and don’t break anything,” you reply before disappearing to your laundry room.

He may not seem like it, but Ransom was grateful you were always there for him. Anytime he needed to get away from everything, or an irate girlfriend, he knew you’d welcome him in for as long as he needed. Well within reason that is.

That’s why Candice, or any of his exes for that matter, didn’t like you. No matter how many times you assured them that you and Ransom were just friends and you wouldn’t dare do anything to compromise their relationship, they still didn’t trust you. And in those times they found out he was hiding out at your place, it always made the situation worse resulting in a screaming match or a flat out break up.

Wrapped up in Gordon Ramsey gagging while trying entrees at a restaurant, a knock at the door makes him sigh at having to move from his spot on the couch.

“Oh hi I’m Bo, I live across the hall over there. Sorry for interrupting your evening I was just gonna give Y/N her mail, they accidentally put it in my box again.” About an inch taller than Ransom, a muscular man with short black hair and deep brown eyes stood in the doorway clearly just getting back from his workout from the clothes he was wearing and water bottle in hand.

“Thanks I’ll make sure she gets it,” he answers with a dry smile, taking the few envelopes from his other hand.

“So you must be her boyfriend,” Bo speaks up just as Ransom moves to close the door. Looking puzzled with one eyebrow raised, he crosses his arms in front of him to discretely show off his muscles and subtly say “yea, you’re not the only one who lifts.”

“Who wants to know?”

“Oh I don’t mean any disrespect, I just assumed since I’ve seen you around here a few times, plus I mean you did just open the door without a shirt,” he nervously laughs. “I mean if you guys are just friends though, I wouldn’t mind taking her out. Don’t tell her I said that though!”

“Hm, well good thing she already has a boyfriend then huh?,” Ransom smugly smiles before closing the door in Bo’s face.

“Who was at the door?,” you ask returning with a pair of sweats and shirt for him to wear.

“Just one of your comical neighbors giving you your mail, and are you hoarding my stuff now?”

“No, more like holding it in a lost and found since you keep leaving stuff over here!”

“Like you don’t like having little momentos of me here,” he smirks putting on his plain dark grey shirt. “Plus I know you wear my shirts sometimes.”

Scoffing, you laugh as you sit down on the couch to continue your “Kitchen Nightmares” marathon while he goes in your room to change his pants. In all honesty though, he was right about you wearing his shirts. So yea you sometimes wore them when you wanted to feel extra cozy, what girl doesn’t like oversized shirts?

And yea you might’ve also liked how they somehow still smelled like him, that didn’t mean anything!

Before he could sit down coming back from the bathroom, he looks down at his vibrating phone before sucking his teeth.

“Yes?,” he answers sounding exhausted and not in the mood to talk as he leans against the counter.

“Where are you?,” Candice asks. Shrill voice traveling all the way to where you were sat on the couch.

“Why does it matter, you kicked me out remember?”

“I know but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or want to make sure you’re ok.”

“Well don’t worry I’m fine.”

“Why are you talking so low? Wait are you at her place?!”

“Candice don’t-,”

“No Ransom Drysdale are you at Y/N’s apartment yes or no?!”

Hearing him get quiet, you slightly turn to see him look at you before looking down at the floor. “Yes”

“Why am I not surprised. You know what, since she’s the one you always want to run to, she can have you because I’m done! Hope you both have a nice life!”

And with that, her voice was gone and you could hear Ransom put his phone in his pocket as he sat beside you.

“I’m so sorry Ransom, I didn’t mean to cause anything-,”

“Don’t apologize. This happened because of something going on way before I came here tonight,” he interrupts looking straight ahead at the tv screen.

“But that’s the thing, I’m what’s been going on and it’s been that way for a while now,” you respond. “Look Ransom, maybe it’d be best that you not come over anymore or that we not even be friends.”

Muting the tv, he turns to look at you. The intensity from his blue eyes making you slightly nervous from never experiencing it before.

“Is that what you want?”

“I mean of course not, but your girlfriends-,”

“Let me worry about my at the time girlfriend, ok? But if you don’t want to be friends anymore, or want me over, then say the word and it’s done. So I ask you again, is that what you want?”

“....No it’s not.”

“Then it’s settled,” he responds turning the sound back on the tv. “So how are those germ infested piranhas of yours?”

“1. Don’t call them that and 2. They’re good,” you laugh taking a few sips of your juice. “You should come during story time one day and read to them!”

“I think I’d rather swim with actual piranhas,” he answers stealing a few of your chips.

———

Waking up with a stretch, you look at your phone to see that it’s 2 am and that both you and Ransom had fallen asleep on the couch.

“Ransom, wake up we fell asleep.” Lightly shaking his shoulder, his eyes flutter open as he yawns lifting his head.

“What time is it?”

“A little after 2 am. Since it’s so late you can crash here if you want.”

“Ok just hand me a pillow and I’ll sleep out here,” he sleepily answers, rubbing his eyes as he sits upright.

“You can sleep in the bed you know, it’s not like we haven’t shared before.”

“Trying to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state huh?,” he smirks removing part of the blanket from his lap.

“Whatever I was just offering because I know a certain spoiled brat is gonna complain about his back in the morning if he does sleep on the couch,” you counter with a smirk of your own.

Rolling his eyes, he helps you clean up before following you to your room and taking off his shirt and sweats before sliding into bed. Wrapping your hair up in your bonnet, you climb in your side of the bed, cutting off the light on your bedside table.

“Night cupcake,” Ransom smiles.

“Night Hugh,” you softly laugh, turning away from him towards the starlit sky outside your window.

Feeling the bed shift beside you from his movements, you start to turn your head to tell Ransom to calm down, but are cut off by his strong arm wrapping around your waist and gently bringing you towards his chest. With his breath lightly tickling the back of your neck, you weren’t sure if it was your heart racing or his from how close you were.

Again, you’d shared a bed plenty of times, but never gotten this close before so you were definitely caught off guard. However, you couldn’t lie that being there made you feel comfortable, secure, and more relaxed than you had been in a while.

“Um Ransom you awake still?,” you ask barely above a whisper.

“Hm,” he replies basically telling you that in the next few minutes, he’d be in a deep sleep.

“I doubt you’ll tell me, but what did you and Candice fight about over dinner?”

Only hearing his soft snores, you figure you’ll never know what happened, and took that as a sign that you probably shouldn’t, since he would just tell you not to worry about it if you asked him tomorrow. Before drifting off to sleep yourself though, you hear him mumble something you couldn’t quite understand.

“What did you say?”

“You,” he repeats burying his head into the back of your neck as your heart beats so loud, you doubt you’ll ever get back to sleep.

Again hope you guys like it and sorry if it’s super long or non-canon😬 (hopefully it’s canon though since I tried really hard to capture Ransom and his Ransomness lol)

Taglist: @nunubug99 @crushed-pink-petals @honeychicana @fumbling-fanfics @themyscxiras @lady-olive-oil @lovelymari4 @melinda-january @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @itshinothey @wildfirecracker @nina-sj

If you want to be tagged, have asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, or only want to be tagged for certain people I write for just let me know🤓!

[lilhemmo]

24 & 70 w/ sweet pea

24: soulmate au70: locked in a room

a/n: so i’ve been wanting to write a bodyguard au and this just so happens to work out so here it is! and this is a fem!reader just because sp will specifically say “ma’am” repeatedly for, y’know, professionalism’s sake ;)

trigger warnings: violence, blood, guns, knives

“Ma’am.”

“You’re overreacting, just chill out. My father didn’t even have to send you.”

“Ma’am.”

“Seriously, this is fine! It’s just a club.”

“Ma’am.”

“What!?” you turn on your heels, scrunching up your nose in annoyance.

Sweet Pea opens the door for you, rather begrudgingly, “Please be safe.”

You laugh, the smell of alcohol and lost inhibitions wafting through the air, “That’s what I have you for, babe.”

You barely have time to gauge his reaction before you’re pushing through the crowd and making your way to the bar. Veronica wasn’t kidding when she said she was going to start buying up real estate all over Riverdale. Your father and Hiram were business partners at one time, but ever since Mr. Lodge was carted away to prison, you’ve been doing the business on your father’s behalf.

“Ronnie!” you squeal, launching yourself across the bar to hug her around the neck. “Girl, you will not believe. My father made me bring my bodyguard.”

Veronica smirks, watching as the man trying so hard to act casual sweeps the area with his eyes. She bites her lip before turning her attention back to you, “Honey, he picked the hottest bodyguard after Reginald. What’s his name?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, tapping the bar to request a drink. “He’s been hanging around for months, training or something. I just like to ruffle his feathers. Calling him ‘babe’ really pisses him off.”

“You’re a mess,” Ronnie rolls her eyes, “I’m going to check on Reggie. Of course everything is on the house. We’ll talk business later?”

You nod, pulling the straw between your lips and sipping on your drink concoction. Thank god the bartender knows your regular.

“Ma’am,” your bodyguard steps into your side, alerting you to his presence.

You chuckle and swirl your drink, “Any threats detected, sir?”

He sweeps his dark eyes over the dance floor before turning his attention back to you, “Probably a couple of perverts hovering near the ladies room. Other than that, nothing to report.”

“Perverts by the ladies room is just another Saturday night,” you smirk, setting your drink down on the counter. You sit with your back to the bar and you can tell that makes him nervous. He leans over and picks up your drink before anyone can come near it.

“If you hold it, it’ll get hot,” you whine emphatically. “Just put it on the counter, everyone knows me here.”

“Which is exactly why your father hired me,” he speaks curtly. “I won’t keep my job if you get your drink roofied.”

You shake your head and narrow your eyes, “My father is cowering in some penthouse hideaway, so I don’t currently take orders from him. I can’t believe I even let you follow me around the past few months.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not hired to be your friend,” he deadpans, handing your drink back to you. “I’m hired to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.”

You gulp down the rest of your drink and slam the glass back on the counter, wiping your lip with the back of your hand. You go to speak, but he’s infuriating you past the point of speech, so you stalk off into the crowd to find someone to dance with.

six months later

“Get down!” he shouts, pushing you behind the kitchen table. He hands you a kitchen knife and your key ring that has pepper spray attached, “Ma’am, I’m going to take care of this, so stay put and be quiet.”

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing him by the shoulder. “What’s your name?”

He pants, his eyes darting from you to the door, “Uh, it’s Sweet Pea, ma’am.”

“Okay,” you nod, releasing his shirt, “I-I just thought I should know in case I, y’know, die or something.”

Sweet Pea smiles sadly, pushing a lock of sweaty hair away from your face, “You’re not dying today, ma’am. Just stay put, I’ll keep you safe.”

He’s gone before you have the chance to say anything else. You clutch your pepper spray to your chest and the knife wavers in your hand, so you hold it tighter, so tight that your knuckles turn white. You swallow and tears leak down your cheeks, burning your skin as you try to keep whimpers from escaping your lungs.

It feels like an eternity, gun fire and screaming and explosions echoing in the rooms adjacent to your own. You flinch with every loud noise, afraid that it might be the last thing you hear before you die. Your hand goes numb from clutching the kitchen knife, but it makes you feel safe so you don’t dare to let it go.

Then everything goes quiet.

The only thing you can hear is your own breath rattling around in your lungs. You try to watch for shadows against the walls, wondering if you’ll be taken by the men who threaten your home.

Your name is called by a familiar voice and you find tears streaming freely down your cheeks and a sob breaks your lips open. Sweet Pea turns the corner and he catches your body as it sags, the knife clattering from your hands to the kitchen tile floor.

“You’re okay, ma’am,” he murmurs into your hair as you cry into his shirt. You wilt against his body, but he holds you up with his arms around your shoulders.

You shake your head against his chest, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You go to speak, but you’re interrupted by your whole body leaving the ground. Clutching his shirt further, you realize that Sweet Pea has pulled you off the ground and started to carry you out of the house.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he tells you as he settles you in the back seat of his black SUV. “Just sleep. We’ll be home soon.”

You’re sure that you’ll never be able to sleep again in your lifetime, but as soon as the car starts and the hum of the engine vibrates your body, you find yourself lulled to sleep.

two months later

“I never believed in soulmates until I met Sweet Pea,” Toni chuckles, tipping her beer back against her lips. She smirks over at you, “I never knew he would be so different after he joined the force. He came back a different person, but I’m starting to see his old self come back again. Even just in glimpses.”

You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the parking lot where you know a familiar SUV is parked, watching your every move and making sure that you won’t come into any sort of harm. Your heart warms at the thought of it.

It’s difficult to even think about soulmates with the past few months you’ve had, but you know that the mark on your hand means that you have one. A flower that curls around your wrist and up your forearm means that you’re destined to have a life partner, one made perfectly for you.

“I doubt Sweet Pea has the mark,” you tell her, mouth against the rim of your glass. You force a smile onto your face, “Besides, I’m not in the line of work to have a soulmate. Too many casualties since my father went to prison.”

Toni shakes her head, “I think you’d be surprised what you’d find if you stripped him of a few pieces of clothing.”

Your cheeks burn red, but you can’t find it in you to respond.

Later that night, when Sweet Pea is doing a final sweep of your home, you reach out and grab him by the sleeve.

“Please,” you find yourself speaking weakly, tears threatening to fall. “Stay.”

You can see that he wants to object, but he raises his hand to press against the earpiece lodged on his left side and he mutters a few lines of code you can’t seem to understand. He nods to someone outside and then pulls the piece from his ear and takes you by the hand.

“Whatever you need, ma’am,” he tells you, allowing you to grasp him by the waist and pull him into your body. His warmth provides you with some sort of solace that you cannot explain no matter how hard you try.

“Thank you,” you whimper into his shirt. You swallow the lump in your throat and throw away any inhibition about the tears that are soaking his clothes.

Somehow you convince him to crawl into your bed, and the sound of his pistol clunking into the bedside drawer gives you some semblance of safety. It’s not your fault that he’s tall and quiet and intimidating, but all of those things rolled into this one man’s body make you feel at home.

four months later

You just wanted to test out your new panic room, that’s all. You just needed to learn how to close the doors and operate the cameras. It’s not your fault that there was a bug in the system from the company who installed it, and now you have to wait until someone from that very company can come to bail you out.

Oh well, at least you have some company.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I failed,” Sweet Pea apologizes as he paces the small space. He shakes his head and the veins on his arms and neck and forehead stress against his skin. He sighs, “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

You intercept him and brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you, “Sweets, it’s okay. It was an accident.”

“I’m the head of your security team,” he grunts, trying to keep his cool with you so close. “I should be smarter than this.”

You try not to laugh as to not further damage his ego. Instead, you frame his face with both palms, “You’re the head of my security team because I trust you with my life. Nobody could have predicted a malfunction with the safe, and there’s no reason to go all James Bond on the situation because we have an alternative way out and we’re not currently in danger.”

Sweet Pea shrinks a little into your touch, the metaphorical weights sliding off of his shoulders and allowing him a moment to breathe. He looks you in the eyes, “I appreciate the sentiment, ma’am, and the hesitation to scold me.”

“I can scold you if you like,” you wink, dropping your hands back to cross your arms over your chest. “If that’s what you’re into.”

It’s only there for a fleeting moment, but Sweet Pea’s eyes and skin betray him as his cheeks burn pink and his eyes travel to your lips.

You reach across and tug on his gloved hand, “Do you ever take these off?”

“They help my grip,” he explains, “so I only take them off when I sleep.”

You bite your lip, contemplating how to see if he has the soul mark to match your own. You’ve felt a connection to this man for a while now, but you were only ever able to explain it to yourself as the connection you feel when you lay your life in someone else’s hands.

“I want to see your wrist.”

You settle for direct.

He blanches, eyes wide and mouth drawn open. Sweet Pea swallows, his throat bobbing, but he reaches for his glove anyway. He must know what you’re talking about, because he reaches for the exact hand you had in question. If it has what you think it has written over it, he will be your exact match.

“Wait,” you order, grabbing him by the hand.

Sweet Pea halts, eyes open as he stares down at you. You gently drag one palm up his torso to card into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him downward to meet you halfway as you stand to your toes.

“I want to do this before I know,” you tell him, your lips a ghost against his. He does not struggle or pull away, and so you push yourself the rest of the way until your mouth is flush with his.

It takes him a moment to respond, but his arms rest at your waist and he tugs you as close as he can, abdomens completely in line with one another. His lips are tangled with yours, slotted perfectly, just as you assumed they would be. His mouth is warm and tastes of cinnamon, just like the gum he constantly chews throughout the day. You wonder what you taste like to him, but you haven’t got another moment to care when he bites down on your lower lip and hooks his hands under your knees.

Sweet Pea hoists you onto the small counter in the tiny panic room, resting his body between your knees and never breaking the connection of your lips. A small groan emits from the back of his throat and now you’re dying to know if he is your match, your soulmate.

You break apart, hair mussed and lips bright red. You can’t help the giggle that tugs open your mouth, but you force yourself to redirect your attention to his wrist.

“I didn’t want it to be just because we were meant to be,” you tell him as your hand hovers over his glove. You slide your index finger under the lip of the material, feeling his pulse quicken under your touch. “I had to let you know that I wanted this before I know.”

He nods, a heady breath shaking his lungs, “I-I wanted it to. But I already know.”

You remove his glove, and there, wrapped around his wrist, is a beautiful flower with petals to match your own.

a/n: whew, that was a long one! hope you liked it, anon! feel free to request more!! :) 

[celtics534]

Finesse

@gryffindormischief and I are proud to present a cooperative effort! It all started as a fun conversation and now we have over 5,000 words for y’all! 

Also available on FF.net and AO3

Harry sat by the fire in the common room, trying to talk himself out of it.

It’s a bad idea, his brain kept saying, in a voice that sounded all too much like Hermione. He shouldn’t ask her. It would be difficult to get the words out for starters, but -- Merlin -- he needed to know! He hated being blind. Harry liked going into a situation with as much detail as he could get, without it… well, he wouldn’t let his mind drift back to anything like that now.

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do this, but who else could he ask? Sirius was gone, Remus was busy with the Order, Mr Weasley -- Hell no! No, he could only think of one person who he could handle going to this about.

With his decision made, Harry stood from the sofa, crumpling the paper he had been doodling on and threw it into the fire. It was only an hour before curfew, so most people had settled into the Common Room for the night, minus patrolling prefects and stressed fifth and seventh years who haunted the library.

No one paid him any mind as he exited the portrait hole. Ever since he and Ginny had gotten together people watched him like a show animal, more than usual. Though honestly, he didn’t really care (for once), because he was blissfully distracted by Ginny.

Ginny… The reason he was having to do this… The cause of all this…

Harry’s feet led him to the office without any guidance from his mind. Then his fist rattled the door without any forethought.

Professor McGonagall opened at the third knock, her teaching robes still on, even though the lateness of the hour would have presented her with more than enough chance to relax.

“Potter.” Her tone was as sharp as ever, but her eyes shone with curiosity. “What’s happened?”

“Noth -” Harry’s voice betrayed him as it cracked. He cleared his throat, trying to prevent his face from flushing. “Nothing, professor.”

“Students don’t come to my office for nothing.” She moved out of the door frame. “Come in a take a seat.”

Harry did as he was told, perching on one of the empty stiff back chairs across from McGonagall’s seat. McGonagall took her position, pulling open the tin of biscuits on her desk. Harry politely refused with a shake of the head.

“Alright then, Potter.” McGonagall watched him. Her gaze always seemed to draw words from his mouth. “Care to explain why you’re here?”

“I don’t know anything about sex.” Harry’s could feel his eyes become the size of saucers. He hadn’t meant to blurt it like that! Damn that McGonagall stare!

In her defense, McGonagall didn’t look away or even look surprised. She simply kept her attention on him. “And?”

Harry wanted his chair to become sentient and man-eating and swallow him whole. It was a better way to die than by the complete and utter embarrassment slowly destroying him. He couldn’t look at her, his eyes focused on the corner of the desk where an ink stain seemed permanent.  

“Harry.”  That made him look up. It wasn’t often she called him by his first name. Her face was kind as she held out the biscuit tin again. “Take one.”

He followed her order this time, taking the shortbread with no intention of placing it in his twisted stomach.

“I’m guessing Sirius never got to have this… talk with you, huh?” Her tone was soothing, and honestly, that freaked him out almost as much as the topic… almost.

He shook his head once.

“Alright then.” She seemed to square her shoulders. “Once we finish this discussion we never speak of it again. Got it?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Harry moved his lips across Ginny’s jaw down to her throat. He loved the way her body seemed to hum as his attention moved south. This was their hidden part of the Burrow, their hideaway in the months since everything had ended. A place where no war had ever touched. Sadness didn’t thicken the air.  And best of all, no brothers around to glare daggers at Harry for touching their sister.

No; here he was free to kiss Ginny whenever he wanted and he wanted to now. His mouth glided across her semi-exposed collarbone and over to her shoulder. His hands, which had a mind of their own, had already reached up under her shirt and were steadily moving north.  Apparently, being this close to Ginny brought out the cartographer in Harry.

Just as his hands were about to touch the underside of the cotton that covered her breasts, an unwelcome voice popped into his head.

When a woman is aroused -

Harry tore his lips away from Ginny’s skin.

“Harry?” Her voice was confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Shit!” Harry murmured as he backed his body away from hers as if she were hot flame, “Shit! Damn it!

“Harry?” Ginny sat up from her indented section of grass. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“She’s in my head!”

“Okay…” Ginny tilted her head. “What ‘she’ are you talking about?  Because I should be the only she in your head when we’re snogging.”

Harry groaned, falling backward onto the ground. “Bloody McGonagall!”

There was silence. Harry covered his face with his hands. Then Ginny spoke in a tone full of suppressed mirth. “Well, I guess she’s hot in a stately way.”

That made Harry tear his hands from his face to look at her. The glee in her expression matched her earlier tone. “Ew, Gin! That’s not -” Ginny let out a snort. “Shut it. That’s not what I meant. She gave me the…”

“She gave you the?” Ginny’s brow quirked.

Maybe it would be easier to claim he had a thing for McGonagall’s glasses.

“The talk.”

“The talk? Like the talk?”

Harry wished he had the power to make a sinkhole appear, or maybe that the chair in McGonagall’s office had gotten a taste for humans. “Yeah. That talk.”

The silence returned. Harry didn't know how long they remained quiet. Finally, Ginny let out a giggle, then a another, and another, until she was full out laughing.

“Stop!” Harry groaned. “It was the worst moment of my life!”

“You've died twice.” Ginny reminded him.

He sat up. He looked her dead in the eye before saying, “Worst. Moment.”

Ginny let out a final cackle. She moved her body close to his, letting their breaths mix. “Maybe I can make it better.”

Summer is strange, perhaps it’s conditioning from school days, or maybe just the laziness that seems to settle over everyone when heat waves wriggle on the asphalt, but everything feels relaxed and comfortable. Well, except wearing anything denim and sitting on vinyl seats.  

Harry’d fully bought in to the whole atmosphere, taking a week off work to stay at home with his wild little family in their cozy country home.

Albus and Lily were spending the day at the seaside with Bill and Fleur’s brood, and Harry had become one with the hammock in the yard.

All in all, Harry was the most relaxed he’s been in a while. Especially after the way Ginny wished him a restful sleep the night before, and then the way he woke her up that morning. God being married was even better than he could’ve imagined.

Not that it’s all shits and giggles. Something he was reminded of when James wandered into the yard with a dramatic sigh, the one that always preceded a headache of a conversation and often a subsequent firecall with McGonagall.

“Dare I ask, James?”

The eldest Potter son flopped down in the soft grass next to Harry’s lounging spot with another sigh. “When did you get the - the talk?”

Tension wriggled up and down Harry’s spine, but he forced his voice to remain calm. “We - do you have more questions?  It’s not just the one talk and then we’re done. You can come to me whenever you have questions or ideas or - ”

Face scrunched, James flinched backward like he’d been slapped.  “Yeah but, Dad, it’s so... Who gave you the talk?”

Ah, even my least emotionally aware child doesn’t want to blurt out that my parents are dead.

“You mean since my mum and dad were gone?”

James grunted. “I was trying to be less-- abrupt. Mum said, well she said if I wasn’t careful I was going to say the wrong shite to the wrong person and get punched.”

“And?”

“And that it’s good to be nice,” James parrots.

“Right,” Harry agreed, letting his leg dangle over the edge of the hammock to set it swinging, “So, anyway. Back to your original question... not that I can really answer it.”

James pushed up on his palms and blinked at Harry, biting at his lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not allowed to say who gave me the talk.” Or more accurately, I swore to myself I wouldn’t.  For my own sanity.

"Was it Sirius?"

Harry snorted, I wish. "Sure, we'll go with that. Not that anyone would believe the truth."

Wind rustled the trees, carrying the scent of mint from the flourishing bushes tucked on either side of the back door, and Harry took a deep breath as James grumbled, “Dad. Why do you have to make this so awkward?”

“Your life could be so much more awkward,” Harry grunted, “Count your blessings cupcake.”

And despite a somewhat rocky start, Harry did manage to dig James’ current romantic troubles out of him and provide some measure of clarity on the subject.  Being a teenager is a minefield even without homicidal fascist maniacs trying to kill you. Harry, at least, comforted himself that his kids had it better, safety wise and in terms of trustworthy adults on hand.

But there comes a point where even the most loving parent has to let their little chicks spread their wings and fly, even if it’s just to Hogwarts. And that little flight means Harry can shield them from things only so long.

Which meant when James returned to Scotland in the fall, he was a year older, twice as sarcastic, and trying on adult humor for size. They’d been studying long term effects of transfiguration on the human body and he’d just delivered a highly witty (or immature, depending on whom you ask) one liner when a throat cleared behind him.

Since when do professors linger near the student’s tables during dinner? Dad would say it’s the height of stupidity to rely on assumptions based solely on usual activity. He also probably would have laughed because the joke was funny. Mum would probably say doing anything under McGonagall’s watchful eye was a gamble and the joke wasn’t quite enough to risk it.

But, spilled milk, glare ice, and such.  He was now facing down not just a Professor, but Headmistress McGonagall and all that office entails, while she eyed him with an inscrutable expression.

Grinning nervously, James maintained eye contact - a tip from Uncle George - while his supposed mates inched toward the opposite end of the table. The loser speaks first - that’s from Uncle Percy - so James holds his tongue.  

McGonagall quirked her brow as her lips tightened almost imperceptibly before she murmured, “I see your father has passed on my lesson.”

“I - what?”

The hours pass in a haze and around ten, James penned a vague letter and sent it off with his owl, Matilda, with explicit instructions to deliver it to his dad immediately. The common room had long since cleared, save a few seventh years waist deep in NEWTs prep, and James laid across the plush rug in front of the fireplace in a sort of malaise.  

Until the flames flared green and his dad’s face looked up at him worriedly. “James? Are you alright?”

James rolled onto his side. “You didn’t go through McGonagall?”

“You said not to. I had to use the fireplace in my office at the Ministry to get in.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

Harry smiled. “S’alright. So long as you’re alright. Hopefully there weren’t any members of the press lingering around to get a shot of Harry Potter in his pants.”

“You didn’t put on trousers?  It’s not that important,” James nearly shrieked, lowering his voice when he gets a few death glares from sleep deprived students.

That earned him a loud bark of a laugh from his dad and a rueful shake of the head. “James, your letter was almost unreadable and said, and I quote, ‘It is a matter of the utmost importance, please contact me by floo at your earliest convenience.’”

Shrugging, James ran a shaky hand through his hair. “What? Gran says young gentlemen should use good grammar and letter etiquette.”

“Yes, but your dad is an auror and knows his kids,” Harry put in, “And you never use complete sentences unless you’re terrified. And then the whole ‘avoid McGonagall thing’ - you know where my mind jumped.”

“Such a drama queen, Dad,” James teased, feeling the tension begin to leave his body at the familiar banter.

“Hm. It’s hereditary.  Do with that what you will. And now, let’s get to the guts spilling part.”

“Well, at dinner tonight I was with my friends and McGonagall - ”

“How much trouble are we talking?”

James raised his hands defensively. “No trouble! Just. How did we get here?”

Harry frowned. “We? You mean - did you not get the talk we had?”

“I mean how in the world did you,” James winced and sent a glance over his shoulder before continuing in a whisper, “shag when McGonagall is the one who told you about it?”

Harry’s a really sympathetic parent, almost too much according to Ginny. When James flooded the dungeons with his latest ‘experiment’, Harry argued detention for being caught out after hours was enough.  When Lily Luna’s accidental magic ended with a couple of nasty kids at her birthday party getting a free hair dye, Harry’d said her love for Teddy was admirable and it was good that she protected people she cared about, that she stuck up for bullies.  

Ginny was mildly persuaded on the first, particularly since it seemed James’ foray into potioneering was for academic purposes.  Lily’s was a harder sell, particularly when the Muggle Protection Squad had to show up and subtly alter remembrances of the afternoon.

Comparatively, Albus has been a pretty calm child, except for his tendency to want to touch and poke everything. Wet paint? Check. Neville’s semi-poisonous and highly experimental saber-toothed Snargaluff? In a second. But generally speaking, he’s less dramatic than the other two.  

Which is why when Albus came home during Winter hols in sixth year and threw himself across the lounge seat in Harry’s home office, it was a bit of a red flag. “Dad. Sixth year is horrible.”

Harry glanced up from the folders, papers, and other garbage that littered his desk and laughed. “It’s not all that bad.”

“You don’t understand - ”

“That won’t work until seventh year,” Harry snickered, “And I’ll gladly pass all your final year struggles to Mum.”

“I mean, your seventh year was kinda shitty.”

“Sixth year was worse.”

Albus slumped lower on the couch and twisted his face toward Harry. “Isn’t that when you and Mum?”

“She was a bright spot in an otherwise awful three-hundred-and-sixty-five days,” Harry began gathering up a few of his pens, highlighters, and whatever other tools he’d managed to pile all over his desk in the last day and a half, “I appreciate your lack of mock hurling when I say shite like that.”

“I’m mature. Back to the main issue though, not all of us can have a world saving prophecies hanging over our heads at sixteen. S’not really fair to hold my teen angst to that standard.”

Harry fiddled with the sleeve of his jumper, “Al - that was far from the worst part of my sixth.”

“I feel like that’s a lie, but I’ll bite,” Albus said, “At least I’ll forget about my own mess of a life.”

A shout sounded from upstairs, followed by a thud and more shouting. Harry wondered if he’d need to pause this heart to heart when Ginny’s own voice joined the fray.  God she’s amazing.  They could really use a night off...or maybe a weekend.  A long one.  And he could visit that little shop in London with the lacy bits she likes…

Harry cleared his throat and refocused. “Mess? Are you seeing anyone? Is that what you’re having trouble with? I can - ”

Albus threw a cushion over his face and groaned. “Oh God, Dad! Can we not have the talk? We did whatever that was before my second year and I’ve picked up a few things since then so.

“Let’s hope you didn’t pick up anything - we really should have another discussion, there’s more to talk about.”

Punching the pillow over his face, Albus murmured, “I think I might actually die from embarrassment.”

“Trust me, this is a better option than...you know what, I’ll give you a way out.”

Albus sat up and let the cushion fall to the carpet, his hair a ruffled mess around his flushed face. Poor kid. Harry can only imagine what he looked like twenty or so years ago…

“You can hear it from me, or learn how I did.”

They had a staring contest of sorts, Albus considering his father and his options, probably also regretting the chain of events that set him up for the current state of affairs. But life happens and so, inevitably, do hormones. “I want more details before I decide.”

Harry smirked and rounded his desk, settling in the armchair across from Albus.  “Well you know Remus was hardly around and Sirius had…”

James groaned as he crossed out another word in his pitiful excuse for a potions essay. Assigning them three feet on Veritaserum during the winter holidays was just cruel.  Why should he be forced to think about saliva from a chimaera while his brother and sister were free to do whatever?

Crumpling his third attempt, James threw his head back so it thudded against the kitchen wall. He closed his eyes. He only had to complete this one assignment, then he would be free for the rest of the holidays. Next time, he wouldn’t complain about his homework in the car ride home. If his parents hadn’t known about the damn paper…

“You know chimaera’s have the head of a goat not a sheep, right?” James opened his eyes to look at his twelve year-old brother, Albus, reading his most recent attempt.

“Have you ever seen one up close?” James asked sardonically.

Albus shrugged one shoulder. “No, and clearly neither have you.”

James was ready to kick something. First off, he’d been working his arse off for over two hours on this assignment, and now Albus decided to come into his work zone and be a sarcastic little shit. He wasn’t in the mood for this. Yes, he was ready kick something and was definitely leaning toward it being Albus’ arse.

Before he could tell his brother as much, Lily rushed into the kitchen eyes wide with panic. “James!”

She barreled into him. Being ten, she was no light feather. James let out a small grunt. “What, Lily?”

“I think Mummy is hurt.”

That was enough for both brothers to spring into action. “What do you mean?” Albus asked as they heading in the direction Lily came from.

“I think I heard her scream!” Lily moved as quickly as her little legs would carry her. “She’s in her room.”

That made James’ pace stutter. He came to a stop on the first step to the upper floor. “Uh, Lily, do you know if Dad was with her?”

And now Albus paused. He gave his brother a wary look. “Oh… I hope not.”

Lily, however, didn’t know what her brothers silently agreed upon. “Yeah. I saw Daddy close the door earlier when I was reading the book about Hungarian Horntails Uncle Charlie gave me.”

“Ew!” Albus shuddered. James closed his eyes hoping the images of his parents doing -- that -- wouldn’t possess his brain.

But of course, it was at that moment he heard what could only be described as a happy moan come from the direction of his parents’ room.

“Oh! Do you think Mummy and Daddy are okay?” Lily asked, her fear almost palpable.

“If I had to place a bet,” James scrunched up his nose and grumbled to himself, “I’d place a thousand galleons on them being more than okay.”

Albus’ expression had taken on a look of pure, unadulterated horror. “We need to leave!”

“Do you think Uncle George would mind wiping my memory?”

“I know that’s how we got here, but…” Albus’ voice hung off as he visually had to shake off his demons.

“And I thought it was the stork,” James claimed sarcastically.

“Uncle Ron mentioned something about a pumpkin patch when I asked him,” Lily supplied helpfully, comforted by her brother’s lighthearted if odd banter.

“Yes, that works, Lily.”

“Gin.”

James flinched at the tone of his father’s voice. Nope! This wasn’t happening! “Come on!” He grabbed his siblings by their arms and led them to the fireplace. “We’re going to grandmum’s!”  

Harry rolled onto his back, trying to catch his breath. “So did I fulfill your orders?”

Ginny let out a low laugh. “Every box was checked, and then some.”

“Good, I would have hated to - “ Harry paused as heard the sound of the floo firing up. “Who’s here?”

Ginny already had one leg in her jeans. “With our luck it will be Ron. His timing is still the worst.”

Once she threw a shirt over her head, Ginny headed down to the sitting room to greet their visitor. Harry followed his wife’s lead, but no one was there.

“What the…?” Harry looked to the sofa which had a de-crumpled piece of parchment resting on cushion. He picked it up and choked on his own salva. “Gin!”

She came back from the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“No one is here, but… uh…”

“But what, Harry?”

He couldn’t speak any more. He handed her the note. It only took her a few seconds to understand the message, then she started laughing.

Only one word was scrolled in their eldest son’s messy handwriting in big, bold letters. Silencio!

“I think the kids may have heard us, dear,” Ginny said through her laughter, “That’s what we get for trusting our kids to keep themselves busy for a quarter of an hour.”

“Where do you think they went?” Harry asked, “And it was at least three quarters of an hour, Gin.”

“Most likely Mum’s, they know they can get biscuits there.” Ginny set down the note and moved her finger to trace his jaw. “Care to join me back in our room?”

“How does James know that spell? It’s a sixth year lesson.”

Ginny changed tactics. She pressed her lips to his chin then to his lips. “We can talk about what our son is doing in his free time later.”  

Harry lifted up his piece of toast absentmindedly, his attention on the Daily Prophet in front of him. Another quiet morning. Ever since Lily had left for Hogwarts, the Potter household was more often than not relatively calm. Sure, he and Ginny could throw some raging parties (typically consisting of only them, a bottle of cheap wine, and minimal clothing), but kids seemed to keep a house constantly alive.

“Anything interesting?” Ginny asked, taking a sip from her coffee mug.

“Not really.” Harry snorted at the front cover, as he folded the pages back to a convenient size. “Just Chip having another affair again.”

“Chip Greene? The one who -”

“Who would always flirt and try to get you to go home with him after you played against each other? Yeah.” Harry’s annoyance with the old Cannons player was still higher than a kite. “That Chip.”

“I don’t know why he ever thought I would want to become another notch on his bedpost.” Ginny mused as she cleaned up her breakfast plates. “I doubt he had any clue what he was doing.”

Harry grimaced. Now his mind fell back onto his talks with James and Albus. Merlin, those had been horrible… horrible… It was at that moment Harry’s mind started to connect dots. Ginny had forced Harry to have-- that-- talk with James just after he turned twelve. Same with Albus. Lily had just started her second year at Hogwarts. Her twelfth birthday had been right at the end of her first year… Twelfth birthday…

“Gin?” Harry tried to complete his breathing exercises. Percy’s wife had recommended them after a traumatic case. He needed to stop his mind from jumping off the plank into the shark-infested waters.

“Hmm?”

“Did you and Lily ever have the - ” Harry had to swallow the lump expanding in his throat. “The talk.” He lowered his tone at his final words.

Ginny snorted. “You mean the sex talk?”

Ugh! There were two words he didn’t want to be combined. His daughter and sex. He could only nod.

Damn, he wished he didn’t find that smirk on Ginny’s face so endearing.

“Not yet,” Ginny’s tone matched her amused expression. “I figured we could wait a little longer with Lily. I thought the best moment would be when she got her first period.”

And another word Harry had no desire to hear in relation to his daughter. He let out a breath. At least Lily wouldn’t be dealing with boys yet. It was then that a vivid and dreadful imagine appeared in his head.

His second year… Seamus chatting with Parvati Patil in hopes of getting her to kiss him… he had been twelve… just like Lily and her classmates.

“Ginny, we gotta floo up to Hogwarts.”

Ginny paused her motion of putting the now clean mug into the cupboard, and turned to face him “And why is that?”  

“We need - I need -” Harry wasn’t quite sure how to explain that he needed to keep the entire male species away from his daughter without making Ginny roll her eyes. Instead of coming up with a calm, rational explanation he blurted, “I know how they think!”

“How ‘who’ thinks?” Ginny’s was using the tone she used with an upset child.

“Boys,” He spit the word out like venom. “Them and their wandering eyes… I’ll die a third time before any of them looks at my baby like that.”

Ginny’s body started to shake. Harry’s mind, at first, thought she was agreeing with him, that her fear of the heinous boys in Lily’s class made her shiver. This, however, was not the case. Harry’s beautiful, logical wife was shaking with suppressed laughter.

“This is why,” Ginny choked down a giggle, “George calls you a drama queen.”

Harry huffed out a breath. “I never considered that an accurate title.” His fingers started to tap against the table. “We need to get up there and stop any fraternizing.” A cruel thought popped into his head. “If McGonagall talked to them -”

Ginny couldn’t stop her laughter now. “Merlin, Harry! They’re twelve. The worst they’re gonna do is hold hands and maybe kiss once or twice.”

“That’s once or twice too much!”

“You know what, though?” Ginny looked thoughtful. “McGonagall did a good job teaching you. Maybe she should start a sex ed class.”

Harry’s ranting mind came to a sudden halt. “Aw, Ginny. Don’t say things like that!” Chills ran up his spine.

“Like what?” Ginny smirked at him as she took the empty chair beside him. “That McGonagall taught you well? It’s true.” Her expression could only be described as evil. “I guess I should be thanking her for my seventeenth birthday present, huh?”

With a thud, Harry’s forehead collided with the table. He turned his neck so he could make eye contact with his wife. “Ginny! You can’t talk to McGonagall about your seventeenth!”

Ginny clearly wasn’t listening to Harry’s order. “Do you ever wonder how she became so educated in the subject?”

“Ginny.” Harry could hear how whiny his own voice had become, but at that moment he didn’t care. “I’ve become a relatively well-adjusted person all things considered, so I need you to stop trying to hurt me.”

Again, his wife didn’t seem to care about his pleas. “You know what? I bet she was a real hit with the blokes. With that stern attitude and tight bun… then the moment they entered the bedroom and she became a freak in the sheets -”

Harry groaned as he sat up. “Merlin, is this my own version of Hell?”  

Ginny leaned over and flicked his nose. “Don’t be such a baby!”

“Wipe my memory, Gin!”

“Seriously?”

“Never mind.” Harry reached across the table to a blank piece of parchment. “I’m Head Auror. I can order a memory removal.”

Ginny snatched the parchment away from him before he could grab a quill. “Harry, you’re almost forty-years-old. You can’t believe McGonagall is still a virgin.”

Harry took his now vacant hands and covered his ears. “Can’t hear you, Gin!”

“So you are a baby.” Ginny shook her head. Then, her eyes sparkled with a look Harry knew all too well. It was the warning sign to some serious cheek. “You know, I wonder if she has any new tips for us.”

“Stop right there!”

Ginny plucked the forgotten quill from Harry’s side and started to write. She read her words loudly, over-pronouncing as she wrote, “Dear Headmistress McGonagall.”

“Ginny I will divorce you,” Harry claimed weakly.

Ginny snorted. “Sure you will, babe.” But she put the quill down and turned back towards him. Her eyes blazed all to attractively. “You won’t be able to resist me after my tutoring sessions with McGonagall. I bet she’s even updated her curriculum, you should ask if her class had a lifelong guarantee.”

“Hey!” Harry protested. “I think I’m rather competent. I certainly didn't hear you complaining last night!”

Ginny gave him a coquettish grin. “Come on, you can’t tell me your not even slightly enticed by,” she confiscated his glasses off his nose, placing them on her own so the lenses made her bright, brown eyes wider than ever, “Professor Weasley.”

“First off, it’s Potter. And second, no.”

Ginny stood from her chair and took up residence in his lap, his hands automatically held her steady by the waist. She moved her mouth up his jaw and to his ear. Harry sucked in a breath as her teeth grazed his earlobe. “While you do exceed expectations, Mr Potter, I think you could benefit from some,” one of her hands threaded into his hair, “One on one lessons.”

Harry couldn’t prevent a moan from escaping his lips as Ginny ran her tongue back down his jawline. “Why - Why are you doing this?”

Ginny leaned back, so Harry could take in her full glory. “You know the glasses are hot.” Her gaze could have melted his insides to mush and her glasses-- his glasses-- Wait a moment.

“When did you transfigure my glasses to look like McGonagall’s?”

“Ah, I knew you’d remember these old things.”

“Ginny!” Harry moaned again, in a different manner this time.

Ginny placed her hand on his cheek, her lips twisted in a small smile. “It’s alright, Harry. I know she was your first love.”

“Please…”

“I mean,” Ginny shrugged, “Who didn’t have a naughty dream about her at least once or twice.”

“Why…”

“Harry, it’s really okay.” She patted his cheek. “I mean, I understand completely. If you could have only seen my dreams of Flitwick,” she made an exaggerated fanning motion her hands, “Hot damn!”

“Ginny, I -” It was then his brain started to comprehend what she had just said. “Wait. What? Flitwick? What the fuck?”

“That was the idea.”

“This is - Flitwick?”

“Don’t get me started on Sprout.”

“Ginny!”

“Merlin, when you got Sinistra out in the moonlight.” Ginny deliberately licked her lips. “Damn.”

“Just -” Harry’s mind had left, unable to keep up with Ginny’s words. “Just - not Snape, right? Please.”

Ginny shook her head, a look of disgust on her face. “Oh no! That snooty upturned nose was such a turn-off, and don’t get me started on his apparent aversion to personal hygiene.” She then smiled dreamily. “But Slughorn. Now there was a potions professor.”

“Well, now you’re just being mean.”

“There was no silly wand waving in that dungeon…” She gave him an appeased look. “They knew what they were doing. Do you think McGonagall taught them too?”

Harry let his forehead fall on her shoulder. “Do you want to never have sex again?”

Ginny let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, if you can’t give me what I need,” she sighed again, “I’ll have to go to the source. Do you think Minerva's free tonight?”

And that was Harry’s limit. “You know what.” He lifted his head, placed his arms underneath Ginny’s legs and lifted her into his arms and then up over his shoulder. “There will be no more of this cheek. We’re not leaving the bedroom until you can’t remember who McGonagall even is.”

Ginny laughed as Harry carried her up the stairs. “Oh big claims there, Potter. I look forward to your practical exam.”

[petri808]

Charmed Affliction

Lol, this was a HW assignment but I might as well post it here too :). 4500 words

FT Next Gen main characters of parents Gajeel/Levy (Sage Redfox) and Mira/Laxus (Isla Dreyar), with Erza/Jellal’s child (Andesine Fernandez) in a smaller role; Nashi Dragneel is mentioned.  For pictures of the kids, please go to @petrischronicles, more character background and synopsis check out the AO3 link :)

“Just think about it, Isla, you don’t have to become a doctor, how about an EMT, or a surgical nurse…”

“Moooom just drop it already!  Why can’t you understand that I don’t wanna work in the medical field!”

“But with your magic, you could help people. That’s why your sister…”

“Ugh, Please don’t compare me to her, mom I hate it when you do that.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to but, Isla honey I wish you wouldn’t sell yourself so short.  You’re a lot smarter than you realize.”

Isla rolls her eyes, she was over having this same old debate, “Can I go?  I gotta get to school already.”

“Do you need a ride, I could drop you off on my way to work?”

“Nah, I’ll walk.”

“Alright, well good luck on your test dear.”

“Thanks, mom.” Isla gives her mom a half wave as she walks out the door.

In a world where only about 1 in every 5,000 people are born with the capacity to wield inhuman powers, it was seen as special to be one of those few.  But not everyone used their abilities for good or were even happy to have them.  They couldn’t live an ordinary life and were expected to behave with a higher degree of acumen.  But try explaining to a child why they couldn’t go to the same schools as the other kids in the neighborhood, or why they needed to attend a special school just for their own kind.  All Isla Dreyar wanted to be was a normal teenager, with normal problems, but unfortunately, being born with magic meant the shy young girl would face a whole ‘nother set of stressors that could drive her to the brink.  

Great, just great, as if things couldn’t get any worse in this class she just had to get an F on her quiz.  Isla rolls her eyes, lets out a lengthy groan, and drops her head onto the desk, burrowing it between her folded arms, ‘I really, really… hate this class!’  A month ago, she had been warned by upper classmates, that told her Elemental Studies was one of the toughest subjects anyone with her type of magic would have to go through; and now she knew why because it thoroughly and utterly sucked!

In this realm, elemental magic was the most common type because it revolved around anything to do with nature, such as fire, water, plants, rocks, and well electricity just to name a few.  But for Isla, that meant having to study several scientific topics such as chemistry, biology, and meteorology which were her weakest fields.  Plus, it didn’t help that the teacher, Mrs. Aquarius was, let’s just say not very friendly.  

Sage ducks into the room to check on his friend, knowing this was a difficult class for her, “Hey Isla,” a hand on her shoulder and a voice she knows all too well raises her from lamenting on the current situation.  “You okay?”

A false smile quickly morphs onto her face. “Yeah!”  Standing up and shoving her belongings into her school bag, “totally fine Sage, just a bit tired I guess, stayed up to cram ‘n all.”

The young man, moves out of the way as Isla shoulders her bag, giving her space while they head out of the classroom.  “How’d you do on the test?”

Shrugging, “Average I guess…. Hey, wanna get something to eat at the caf?”

“Nah I’m cool, supposed to meet Nashi in the library so we can work on our group assignment for Mr. Capricorn’s class,” he reaches out to put his hand on her shoulder, “how ‘bout…” but she shies out of his reach.

“Oh…” her breathing falters, “I’ll just catch ya later then.”  Isla walks away abruptly, leaving Sage a bit baffled by her sudden shift in attitude; not even giving him a chance to say goodbye.  Still confused but now late for his meeting, he heads in the opposite direction towards the library.  

Isla’s head is spinning, berating herself for being rude to Sage when all he had done was simply mention another girls name.  Of course, it was a rival in her view, but he didn’t know that… ‘and, didn’t deserve the attitude,’sighing and plopping down under an old willow with her lunch.  Sage Redfox, cool and collected Sage, or Tatsuo as some of his buddies called him was the one friend Isla had stayed close to since they were little kids.  While his tastes eventually developed into the more gothic scene, fueling her own shift towards that genre, his personality was always open and charismatic, never dark or angry.  Not to mention she found him very attractive, tall and toned, with long dark blue hair that he kept up in a ponytail most of the time.  He was the one friend she could count on….  Releasing a long exhale, ‘I should apologize to him later.’      

She rubs at her inner left wrist, closing her eyes to the realities surrounding her for the moment, and leans against the withered trunk.  School, studies, acquaintances going about their day oblivious to one girl sitting all alone.  They didn’t even notice her presence, Isla assumes, since she wasn’t one of the popular girls or in any real clique for that matter, able to count her real friends on one hand.  Not that she minded so much, in fact she preferred it that way.  Isla portrayed a tough girl image to keep people away and hide her real emotions not bring them closer, only those she trusts are ever brought into her inner circle.  

But right now, those emotions are playing havoc with her mind, running wild down the darkest of paths and Isla wasn’t sure how to get off it.  Isla raises her hand, watching the flickering white energy sparking off her finger tips, reminding of her of the so-called gift she should be thrilled to have.  It was inherited from her father, a powerful ability he would often remind her, dangerous and yet lifegiving at the same time.  Sure, it would be an easy thing to electrocute an enemy or restart a heart that had stopped beating.  But she wasn’t interested in either, at least the going into the medical field part because that would require a lot more schooling than the young girl was willing to consider.

After releasing the built-up energy into the ground around her, she closes her eyes once more.  It was unfair as far as she was concerned, that her sister inherited their mother’s transformation magic which was much easier to learn and deal with, and quite frankly a lot more fun.  Imagine being able to turn into any person or animal you wanted to, even grow wings to fly away, ‘far away from here.’  Last Isla had overheard, her older sister was aiming for a career in law enforcement just like their father, ‘such a kiss ass!’            

She notices a pair of boys creating and throwing snowballs at each other, hitting a girl on accident who retaliates by sending a stream of water to drench them.  One of her friend’s waves as he flies through the quad with leathery wings kicking up some dust and pollen.  Ugh, it was making her envious to see them having fun.  Isla checks her watch, 7 more minutes of lunch, two more classes and it was back to her one sanctum in this world where she could hideaway in solitude.  

Three hours later, the bell rings signaling the end of classes for the day. Isla packs up and heads straight for home without speaking to anyone she passes, simply intent on holing up in her bedroom for the rest of the night.  She hears her name called out from behind as she steps through the front door of the school, but there’s no turning back today, not today.

Sage can see his friend at the front of a throng of students rushing for the exit.  He calls out a couple of times, but Isla never turns around. A slight frown mars his face, could she not hear him?  Not a remarkable notion when you consider the volume of chatter in that narrowed hallway. But ever since they had parted ways outside of Elemental Studies, he could tell that Isla was hiding something and now this only fueled his assumption that something was truly upsetting her.  

“Oi!  Tatsuo!”

He turns to see one of his buddies ambling towards him, “Whoa whassup Ande!” clapping his friend’s hand with an exaggerated handshake and quick shoulder bump type hug, “Where the hell were you last night, I thought you was gonna stop by my house?”

“That damn test was hell to study for, but I bet you breezed through it, last year.”

“Even more reason you should’a dropped by, idiot I could’a helped ya.”  

“Eh,” Ande shrugs his shoulders, “I passed with a C.” The two boys head out along the side walk towards the parking lot and their cars.  “You got plans or just going home?”

“I do, was gonna swing by and check on Isla ‘cause she seemed upset earlier.”

“Probably did bad on that test, she looked miserable when we got it back from the witch.”

“That’s what I thought too but I think it’s something else.”

“Oh.”  Stopping at his car, Ande throws his bag on the backseat then turns again to his friend. “By the way…  so, I’ve been meaning to ask,” peering around to see if anyone was nearby, he lowers his voice, “what’s the deal with you two?”

Shifting his stance, Sage’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms in a defensive posture, “What do you mean?”

“Pfft,” rolling his eyes, the mocha colored hues flashing in amusement, “don’t give me that look.  I know you like her, so what, you gonna stay in the friend zone forever or make a move any time soon?”

Sage sighs, “It’s…  complicated okay?  I just… She’s always been, like, shy about this stuff, so I don’t wanna push anything with her unless she’s ready for it.”

Andesine laughs and shuts his door, “I don’t know why you fuss over that one, especially after what you went through with Midori, so good luck man.”

“Midori wasn’t that bad, I just wasn’t as into her as she was of me.” Exhale,“But yeah, thanks anyways.”

The pair share another friendly handshake.  “Catch ya tomorrow.”

“See ya Ande.”  Tipping two fingers at his buddy before walking towards his own car.

It was only a few blocks from the school to her house, quicker with a few shortcuts so within 20 minutes she had made it, and even more pleased to see no one was home.  Isla looks at her phone, 3:27pm, that meant her parents wouldn’t be home for at least a couple more hours.  ‘Perfect!’  First order of business was to throw on some mind-numbing music and second, her version of therapy…

When he pulls alongside the curb fronting Isla’s house, it wasn’t immediately apparent if his friend was home, but he parks anyway and takes the chance. With his long legs, Sage traverses the short footpath to the porch in just a few strides and ascends the two-step staircase.  “Isla?” knocking at the door and trying the handle.  After finding it unlocked, Sage opens it and sticks his head through. “Isla are you home?”

He can hear music coming from the direction of her room but other than that, the house was quiet, no movement or sound, letting him know she was the only person home.  Well, he’d come this far, so he makes his way down the hallway.  Louder and louder the angsty blends of grunge alternative intensifies the closer he gets to her room, blaring sounds of metal music thumping against the walls.  

Sage knocks at her door.

The razor blade is poised for the second slash when she hears someone knocking at her bedroom.  Panic grips the young girl, who the hell was in her house!  It couldn’t be her parents and her sister weren’t due for a visit anytime soon.  Didn’t she lock the front door?  ‘Oh crap!’ In her rush to numb her mind had she forgotten to lock the damn door?

“Isla?  It’s me Sage.”

What was Sage doing there!  Isla rushes around her room, clicking off the radio, throwing things into the closet, the dresser, shoving stuff under her bed until a sharp sting hits her.  She looks down at her wrist as fresh little ruby beads break through the cut she had made a few minutes ago.  It was beckoning, almost calling to her to remember the freeing sensation it conveyed, such a dark reddish hue against the paleness of her milky skin tone charming her…  

“Isla?  I can hear you moving around.  Can I come in?”

‘Damn it!’ Sage, she had forgotten about him being there!  In a panic, Isla looks around for her first aid kit.  “It’s kind of a mess, could you, um, give me a couple more minutes to clean up?”        

Sage chuckles, “I’ve seen your version of a mess, come on Isla…”

She fumbles with a bandage and gauze trying to wrap the cut and pull her gloves back on as quickly as possible. “Just give me a few minutes please!!”

He stops cold, lips twitching into a frown.  That was a harsher reaction than was warranted, even from her.  “Isla, what’s going on?”

“No…tsss. Oww, fuck!”  

“Isla… what was that?”  He tries the knob, but it was locked.  “Are you hurt!”  Banging louder on the door, “Isla, if you don’t open this door I swear I’ll break it down!”

“I’m fine Sage…  Shit!”

Hearing the second cringe and that was it for him. He slams his shoulder into the door once, but it doesn’t budge.

“Sage are you crazy!!”

“Last chance Isla unlock it, or I break the door down. You know I could crack the metal hinges easily!”

“My parents will kill me if you do that!”

“Then I suggest you open it cause I ain’t leaving! Now, I’m counting to 3,” pause, “1…  2…”

Click.

Sage opens the door and finds Isla sitting on the edge of her bed.  There are drying tears along her cheeks but looking her up and down, he couldn’t see what the cause of the pain noises could have been from.  He hurries over and kneels in front of her, “Isla what’s wrong?”

“I told you, I’m fine, just, stubbed my toe on the bed.”

He glances down and see’s boots still on her feet, then back to her with a raised eyebrow.  She’s obviously lying to him and when he notices her favoring one of her hands, he grabs her by the wrist to check it himself.  “Oww!” Isla squeals, yanking back her arm and cradling the wrist against her chest.  A new wave of tears flowing freely as the stinging pain radiates outward from the fresh cut.  

Now he’s livid and grabs her arm again from a higher point forcing the glove off.  “A bandage?” Looking back at her face, his crimson red eyes flashing in anger, “did you cut yourself?”  Isla refuses to meet his stare and shakes her head with exaggeration. Grasping her by both arms, “Isla please tell me, did you hurt yourself?”  Again, she shakes her head vigorously, no.  “Don’t lie to me!  What did you use, a razor blade?  Where is it!!”  Her eyes widen, frightened by the fury he was displaying.  She hesitates but based on the seriousness in his tone, pulls it out of her pocket to avoid being searched by force.  Sage snatches the small cutter from her outstretched palm and using his metal manipulation magic, turns it into a useless quarter sized lump.  “No more of that.”

Sage rises to his feet.  If she had failed the Elemental test, that was something he could handle.  Parents just being on her case, nothing new to him. But a friend self-harming themselves, he had no idea how to react, and as he contemplates what to do, Isla sinks onto the edge of the bed with her head hung.  There was no way she could look at him now.  Why of all people to find this out about her than her crush? Could things get any worse?  Oh, how she wanted to run the razor over her arm and let the physical pain counter the mental anguish called her life.  

He walks away to stare out of the window, bracing against the frame.  It was like having his heart ripped from his chest to see his friend in so much distress, that she had felt so alone that hurting herself had become the only recourse.  His mind berates himself for not seeing the signs, for surely there had to have been some indications that Isla had been depressed.  But as he racks his brain, trying desperately to find something, nothing special was standing out.  Yes, in hind sight she had been a bit more detached, but since she had always been a reserved person it wasn’t such a noticeable difference.    

With his back turned, Isla squeezes the bandaged wrist.  If she couldn’t cut herself to bring on the pain, she could still get it another way.  Her eyes roll back as the stinging sensation floods her consciousness and dulls the droning voices screaming in her head.  Slowly she increases the pressure of her grip, sending new waves of euphoria against her ravaged mind, it felt utterly amazing to lose herself in its swells...

“Isla No!”  Suddenly, she is ripped away from her thoughts when Sage grabs her hand to stop her personal assault.  “Are you f’ing kidding me!”  

“You don’t understand!  It makes me feel better Sage!  I’ve been so depressed over everything lately and it takes that away, it stops the voices that plague my every waking moment.”  Isla stands up and paces next to the bed.  “I hate that I have this stupid magic, my parents are always comparing me to my sister, and now that friggen class is going to drive my GPA even lower!  Even the guy I like doesn’t see me.”  Flailing her arms in the air, “nothing is going right in my life, nothing!”

“Wait, what guy?”

“Huh,” Isla stops her ranting, whipping around, “what guy?”

“Yeah, you said the guy you like doesn’t see you, who are you talking about?”

“I never said anything about a…”  she pauses from the realization, ‘oh, snap, I did, didn’t I!’  Waving her hands adamantly to wipe the slate clean, “forget you heard that part,” she resumes pulling the first aid kit back out to fix her bandage like nothing strange had just happened.  “Look, Sage, please don’t tell anyone about this.  I don’t need any more people thinking I’m a bigger weirdo or loser.”

With nothing more than his own smarts and affection to guide him, Sage, leads her back to the bed and prompts her to sit down next to him.  “Isla, I’m sorry you hate having magic, it bugs me too sometimes, but I think it makes us unique, you know, special.  With your parents, they love you, you know they do, but…  maybe they just don’t realize that some of their comments makes you feel this bad.  And, don’t worry about class, okay,” holding her hand, sweeping his thumb over the silky skin, “I’ll help you with that, together you’ll get through it.  But, why are you deflecting my question?  Isla tell me who is this guy you like since it’s bothering you so much.”

“I…” looking away, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not, is it someone you know I’ll hate?”

“No…  He’s actuallya really great guy…”

“Do I know him?”

“Well, yeah probably better than anyone else…”

Running his free hand over his face, “Pleasedon’t tell me it’s Andesine.”

Her head whips around to look at him, “What!  Eww, no way, he’s not my type, plus his mom scares the hell out of me.”

“Then who is it?”

Isla looks down again, “I’m too embarrassed to tell you.”

Sage is torn, he doesn’t want to push too hard, concerned that doing so would drive her back to hurting herself when it seemed like he was making progress.  But he was also curious, jealouslycurious to know who his rival might be.  He sighs, noting the slight tinge of pink dusting her cheeks, and the increased warmth of her palms.  Whomever her heart belonged to was bringing out an adorable reaction from Isla and if that wasn’t just tearing his own apart.

“You know…” squeezing her hand as moisture clouds his vision, “I wish you had come to me about all of this…  We used to tell each other everything,” speaking softly with gentle underpinnings of a bruised spirit.  “Isla I’ll always be here for you… no matter what.”

She can’t bring herself to look directly at his face, but her eyes flit upward briefly, gazing through plumed lashes and noting the concern his eyes are sporting.  “I know…” a glowing flush to her skin only amplified by the darkening and spreading splotches along her chest.  “I know you are.”  At least deep down she did.

In that moment, the tough girl persona had dissolved into the Isla he knew was buried beneath the surface.  For all her flaws, she was beautiful to him inside and out, a rough diamond simply waiting to be cut and polished.  But the longer Sage soaks in her image, the more he realizes just how much he cared about the petite blonde with the dyed red hair.      

“Okay, Isla I won’t push if you don’t want to tell me. But, well…  I have a crush on someone too.”

Isla’s whole body stiffens.  Things were progressing so well, she was actually starting to feel better but with that one statement, all of those airier feelings flew right out the window as her heart sinks and all the color drains away from her face.  Of all the times for Sage to bring this up!  

She squeezes her eyes shut, barely breathing out the question, “I-Is it Nashi?”

“Nashi?” a strong rebuke in his tone, “no, it’s not her?”

“Then who is it?”  Her mind is spiraling, ‘Geez Sage just put me out of my misery already…’

“It’s you,” tilting her face up and smiling when her eyes pop open with genuine shock registering on her face.  “Isla, it’s you.”

“Me?” She blinks, his words still not sinking in.

“Yes, you.  Now will you tell me who you like?”

Isla pauses for a few seconds.  “I-I like you too Sage.”

Sage let’s out the air he didn’t realize he was holding. “Wow it’s a good thing we like each other.”  Chuckling, “cause, it’d be pretty awkward if you had said someone else.”

“But, I don’t understand…” Isla turns her head away, “why would you want to like someone like me?  I’m not pretty like your last girlfriend, and I-I mean you, well, you’re popular, and really smart, but me I’m just…” longexhale, “just a total mess.”

“You’re not a mess.  You have some issues but to me you are much prettier than Midori, and sweeter,” chuckling, “I can conduct your electricity so, I’d say we make a good match.” Caressing her cheek, “and you’re not dumb just because you struggle in science, your language and grammar skills are way better than mine.”  

Her eyes fill with moisture, “you really think so?” Sage nods his head in response.

The stirring of emotions swirling in her mind was becoming overwhelming, so she closes her eyes, drifting away to process it all.  Sage had caught her in one of her lowest moments and yet he hadn’t run but stayed to comfort her just like he had always done throughout their life. From scrapes and bruises in primary school, to fights with her sister.  Late night chats about anything or nothing.  He’d always been her best friend.  So, why had she fallen so far down the rabbit hole?  A part of her felt he deserved better, someone who didn’t seem to have so much baggage weighing them down.    

But could she break the cycle or had the slope become too slippery to climb back up from?  Isla wanted to believe everything he was saying, her heart wanted to take a sledgehammer to the wall that had been built up, but it was her mind that held back. All the what if’s plaguing it, would he hurt her in the end?  To lose not just a boyfriend, a first crush, but a best friend, could her heart take that kind of pain?  Like a drug dealer fueling its customer, the throbbing of her healing wrist harkened to her and she absentmindedly begins to rub at it.      

Sage frowns as he watches her slowly revert inwards again. “Isla?”

“Hmm?” she opens her eyes and looks at him.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”  He points to her wrist and that’s when she realizes what she had started doing again.  “Sorry,” Isla stops rubbing her wrist, “I guess it’s become a habit.”

“Please, promise me you’ll stop hurting yourself. You mean too much to me to lose you now.”  

She blinks, this sappier side of Sage was new to her. “I…”  Taking a deep breath, could she really get better?  After a brief pause and another long exhale, she nods, “Okay, I promise Sage.”

A companionable silence falls between the pair, Isla feeling a little better about her circumstances, and he holding-out hope that she would keep her promise.  But it was a little awkward for her too, being so close and not knowing what to do next. Sage has had a girlfriend before, but Isla’s never had a boyfriend.                

She fiddles with her fingers, “Sage, um,” tucking some loose strands behind her ear, “what are we?  I mean, are we like a couple now?”

“Do you want to be?  I just didn’t want to make you feel like we had to be one if you weren’t ready yet.”

“I guess it would be okay, I mean, I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

“Isla,” he cradles her cheek, sweeping his thumb over the skin, “I would love to finally call you my girlfriend.  Hmm, in fact,” Sage reaches over and picks up the former razor from where he’d dropped it, “maybe this will help.”  Using his magic, he splits the lump into two portions, manipulating their forms into new pieces.  “How about a promise ring,” slipping one onto her finger before placing the second ring on his.  “Now everyone will know we’re taken, and it’ll remind us of our promises to one another.”

“Sage…” moisture quickening at her corners and her baby blue eyes brightening, “I-I don’t even know what to say, it’s,” toying with the simple gray band, she exhales and smiles wide, “this does make me feel a lot happier.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

[anachef]

FULL Review! The Tropical Hideaway — Disneyland’s Newest Hangout in Adventureland!

Welcome, fellow Explorers and Adventurers, to The Tropical Hideaway in Disneyland’s Adventureland!

The Tropical Hideaway!

This new counter service location will officially open to Disneyland guests on Friday, December 21st. But it’s in soft openings now, which means that if you’re currently in Disneyland you may be able to catch it open beforehand.

The Tropical Hideaway

But we were able to attend a Media Preview to bring you into this new tropical location boasting ADVENTURE!

The Tropical Hideaway

The Tropical Hideaway

MYSTERY!

The Tropical Hideaway

The Tropical Hideaway

And DOLE WHIP!

Dole Whip, I Presume

Dole Whip Float and Loaded Whip

And MUCH more! You’ll find The Tropical Hideaway tucked between Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room and the Jungle Cruise, and both the atmosphere and the global cuisine take their adventurous cues from these truly classic attractions.

Atmosphere

The Tropical Hideaway is nestled on the waterfront of the Jungle River. There are two ways to reach the new destination: by crossing its main bridge through Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room or by way of “Skipper’s Walk” coming from the Jungle Cruise loading dock.

Skippers Walk

During the day, the open-air setting allows for soaking in the “tropical” California sun, though plenty of tables are also available under awnings to provide shade for those who prefer it.

The Tropical Hideaway

In daylight hours you’ll also be able to more easily see all of the references to both of the beloved neighboring attractions. These include Rosita the Cockatoo!

Rosita

In fact, Rosita will be a constant presence for visitors to the Hideaway! Keep your eyes — and ears! — peeled for her at the loading dock as she waits for her boat which will take her on her way to begin her solo career after her performing run with the bird mobile chorus in the Tiki Room.

We mention your ears because Rosita has some laughs to share! This beautiful audio-animatronic has a full repertoire of jokes you can catch if you stop by the loading dock to see and hear what she has to say.

Rosita

As you continue in your wanderings, you’ll want to be sure to check out the paddles lining the wall which represent member of the Society of Explorers and Adventures. (You can learn more about S.E.A. by reading about the Jungle Skipper Canteen in Walt Disney World here.)

Paddles lining the walls

Looking at the paddles you’ll spot names such as H. Hightower known to fans of DisneySea’s Tower of Terror.

H. Hightower Paddle

Other names also may be familiar to you from other Disney destinations around the globe, like Lord Henry Mystic from Mystic Manor in Hong Kong Disneyland. 

H. Mystic Paddle

And here’s one for good ol’ Albert Falls…

Dr A. Falls Paddle

We’re told some paddles also provide some clues for future attractions…

The Tropical Hideaway

We told you there was mystery here!

Once the sun sets, torch lights will flicker throughout the evening, adding to the romantic and mysterious Adventureland atmosphere.

Tiki Torch

The outpost also displays goods from artisans among the decor.

Lamps “for sale”

Exotic Lamp Sales

You’ll also find a couple of unique merchandise items at the Hideaway that aren’t just for display! In particular, there is only one other place where you’ll find the Plumeria Minnie Ears, and that’s at Disney’s Aulani in Hawaii.

Plumeria Minnie Ears

Plumeria Minnie Ears

And finally, the scene is further — and always — set with friendly Cast Members!

Cast Members

Eats

The marketplace is ready for guests to come in and experience global cuisine!

“Fresh Off the River”

It’s the best of the Jungle!

“Best of the Jungle”

Let’s take a look at the first part of the menu (with more to come).

The Tropical Hideaway Menu

Warm steamed Bao Buns are served in three flavors: Spiced Vegetable Bao, Kaffir Lime Chicken Bao, and Bulgogi Beef Bao.

Bao Buns: Spiced Vegetable Bao, Kaffir Lime Chicken Bao, and Bulgogi Beef Bao

The Kaffir Lime Chicken Bao is also filled with butternut squash, lime, and even a little spice from fresh herbs.

Kaffir Lime Chicken Bao Bun

The Spiced Vegetable Bao is indeed spiced, but it’s done so with curry instead of a hot spice, so there isn’t a ton of heat — just a hint. These tasty buns are filled with garbanzo beans (chickpeas) and cauliflower.

Spiced Vegetable Bao Bun

The Bulgogi Beef Bao is finished with sweet chilis and potatoes.

Bulgogi Beef Bao

These soft buns are truly excellent, and clearly unique from what you’ll find at most counter service spots in Disneyland. You can’t go wrong with any of the flavorful fillings. That said, you’ll still see a Skipper’s Tip on the menu: “Want it spicy? Ask for the sauce!”

From the Steamer Menu

We highly recommend the delicious sauce — which is Kogi Salsa Roja — not only for the Boa Buns. We also mixed it in with our next item, the chilled Ramen Shaker Salad.

Chilled Ramen Shaker

Chilled Ramen Shaker Salad

The spicy sauce was a good mix-in, but the tasty onion vinaigrette that the salad is served (and subsequently shaken) with is great on its own, too.

Chilled Ramen Shaker

Ramen, carrots, zucchini and cilantro make up the rest of the super fun shaker salad. And the option of spicy togarashi cashews give the whole thing a terrific kick.

Chilled Ramen Shaker

Chilled Ramen Shaker and Rosita

For sweets, there is the Sweet Pineapple Lumpia!

Fresh Arrivals Menu

Disney World guests who have visited Pongu Pongu in Animal Kingdom’s Pandora will recognize this egg roll filled with sweet cream cheese and pineapple.

Sweet Pineapple Lumpia

Only here at The Tropical Hideaway, the presentation of cream cheese with roasted pineapple is a bit different with an emphasis on the sweet cream (which for many, I think, will actually be the preferred texture). Plus, they’re rolled in sugar lending an extra crispy texture to the roll.

Sweet Pineapple Lumpia

The presence of pineapple is upped instead with a Dole Pineapple Dipping Sauce served on the side.

Full serving portion with dipping sauce

Delicious!

But we’re not done yet!! That Adventureland staple, Dole Whip, is also on the menu!

Dole Whip, I Presume

Welcome to the Dole Whip bar at The Tropical Hideaway, “you lucky people, you!”

Preparing the Dole Whip

Forever and always, we will have a soft spot in our hearts for the Tiki Juice Bar, first home of the Dole Whip in Disneyland. But Dole Whip fans should note the bragging rights that The Tropical Hideaway has earned for several reasons. The first is flavor variety. You can get a Dole Whip in Pineapple, Orange, or Raspberry.

Dole Whip Menu closeup

And, of course, you can swirl and choose Pineapple & Orange or Pineapple & Raspberry.

Pineapple and Raspberry Dole Whip Swirl

You can also enjoy your Dole Whip in Float form.

Dole Whip Float

Dole Whip Float and Loaded Whip

But what’s that next to our Dole Whip Float? Say “hello” to Loaded Whips!

Loaded Whips

The Twisted Ambush takes Dole Whip and places it on “exotic fruit” (mostly mandarin orange and pineapple) to deliver even more citrus flavor and punch.

Twisted Ambush

Crystallized hibiscus is sprinkled all over. And sticking out of all sides? Why, those are Pocky! (Not familiar with Pocky? Check it out here!)

Twisted Ambush

Here, the Pocky are the “spears” which are ambushing you! We also tried the Loaded Whip with Raspberry and Pineapple swirl, too.

Twisted Ambush

Before you head off for the rest of your time in Adventureland, it’s good to know that “Extra Provisions” are available as well, in the form of grab-and-go goods like trail mix, chips, fruits, and veggies.

Grab and Go

Grab and Go

Hippeas Chickpea Puffs and Salted Plantain Chips

Bottled drinks are up for grabs, too, alongside the other chilled selections.

Bottled drinks

Bottled drinks and fruits

And with that, we’re refreshed, refueled, and ready to tackle any adventures that come our way!

The Tropical Hideaway is SO much fun! Plenty of hidden gems for Disney fans — and not only those who appreciate Adventureland, but even for fans of the Disney destinations worldwide — all within a seriously beautiful tropical-inspired setting which mixes that whimsy with a touch of romance. And the fact that the food is so tasty with unique and creative items you can only find here (in regards to Disneyland)… well, that ups the ante, too. And for those who don’t care for the global cuisine on the menu? Well, who doesn’t love a Dole Whip?! The Tropical Hideaway is a win for everyone, and we can’t wait for our next getaway to the Hideaway!

We’ve been following the development of The Tropical Hideaway from the moment it was first announced… you’ll hear about its initial announcement and more new Disneyland Resort dining options that are new to the scene AND some that are still on the way in our DFB YouTube Video!

Disclosure: In nearly all circumstances, Disney Food Blog writers and photographers pay full price for their own travel, hotel, food, beverage, and event tickets. We do this because it’s important to us as journalists to ensure not only that we give you unbiased opinions, but also that you can trust us to do so since we’re paying our own way. On rare occasions, when we are invited by a company to attend a preview as media, and when we choose to accept that invitation, we will always make you, our readers, aware of that situation. We were invited by Disney to experience the new Tropical Hideaway location. Note that when we attend events as media we are 1) Not required to review that event/food on any of our channels, and 2) Not required to review that event/food favorably. You can always count on DFB to give you a 100% unbiased and honest review of any event that we attend, food that we eat, or beverage that we drink. You can see more in our Disclosure Policy. Thank you for reading. — AJ and the DFB Team

Are you looking forward to exploring The Tropical Hideaway? Please let us know with a comment!

Related posts:

FIRST LOOK! Welcome to The Tropical Hideaway in Disneyland’s Adventureland — Grand Opening Friday!

The Tropical Hideaway to Open Later This Year in Disneyland (Plus a Sneak Peek at the Menu!)

Look Who’s Coming to The Tropical Hideaway in Disneyland Park!

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