— ; Rebel 𝐑𝐄𝐃 carnation 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑺 while I ( 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘. ) MATT L. ABERNATHY. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄. ╱ recent gryffindor graduate trying to decide what’s next in life. scottish journalist for the prophet, single father of one, and despiser of the full moon.

So, maybe he got a bit too carried away?

&&. Well, it 𝒊𝒔 Sunday—.

&&. DOES IT EVER GO 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘? ( 𝐢. / 𝐢𝐢. )

&&. I COULD SHOW YOU HOW MANY MOVES TO 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄, RIGHT NOW. NICCOLO ‘NICO’ L. PERETTI. 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄-𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐃. ╱ the italian-american auror for macusa with a soft side. former wampus with more to him than the scars he wears.

Walking around with a filled goblet, going over paperwork and case files. . . . it’s 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, for god’s sake.

Has she tried eating something? Low blood-sugar never helps.

Probably a good idea. Can’t speak for her, but he knows how 𝐡𝐞 gets when he’s hungry.

Right, yeah – c’est ça le mot. He doesn’t think most No-Maj’s get 𝒉𝒊𝒔 kind of hangry, though. What he’d give to be that clueless, eh?

Really just one word that can be used to describe him at the moment. Affamé. Take from that what you will. In other words, s’approche-toi de lui avec une extrême prudence.

&&. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 for @unimagics. “It looks worse than it is,” Leo assures her, standing up straight, forcing a smile after a moment, though he immediately regrets it. That 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁. “𝑱𝒆 𝒕’𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒆 – 𝒄’𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆.”

𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒆́. This detective is 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, but he has work to do. A dangerous combination at best.

Ah, 𝒄𝒂̂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆. He needs a new case. 𝑰𝒍 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑 𝒂̀ 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆, 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒂̀ 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆; there’s never any in between. He can’t pay the bills without cases, can he?

Mildly irritated grumbling. For the last time, 𝒊𝒍 𝒏’𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄̧𝒂𝒊𝒔, 𝒊𝒍 𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒒𝒖𝒆́𝒃𝒆́𝒄𝒐𝒊𝒔. How many times does he have to say it?

You know, he could really go for a proper poutine right now. Can’t seem to find a single damn place in all of Britain that can do it properly.

If he had a fuckin’ dollar for every time—