cabbagey

[spacepunksupreme]

Sean Connery as Agamemnon in Time Bandits (1981)

if you even care

[minniethemoocherda]

Five times Cody did not tell Obi-Wan what he was thinking plus one time that he did. (Chapter 1)

Summery: Snapshots of Cody and Obi-Wan growing up together over the years.

Ao3

Logically, Cody knew that high school was going to be different. That unlike in middle school, he wouldn't be guaranteed to have most of his classes with his brothers.

Still, he hadn't expected it to happen on the first day in his very first class. He glanced around as he entered the science lab. It wasn't that much different from the one in his old middle school with out of date posters hung up on the off-white walls and rows of two seated desks lining the room. There weren't many people he recognised from his old school and the few he did he could barely remember the names of. So he sat down at one of the empty pairs of desks, hoping that there aren't going to be many more people joining the class so that he could sit by himself. But of course, the universe was against him that day.

Students started piling into the room as the bells rung and Cody kept his gaze firmly on the desk to avoid catching eye contact with anyone.

"Hello there."

-

Cody startled at the nearby voice. He glanced up to meet the pale blue eyes of a boy with soft ginger hair and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose.

He was pretty, a voice at the back of Cody's mind supplied, which was odd because he had never thought of a boy as pretty before.

"Can I sit here?" The boy asked, a faint British accent to it, that only added to Cody's impending shock.

When Cody continued staring, the boy shifted nervously which was when Cody released that all the other seats in the class were taken.

"Sure." He nodded, trying to smile because Rex had always told him he had a resting bitch face and it probably would do him some good to make friends at this school outside of his brothers.

The boy smiled back, sliding in the chair next to him.

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi." He introudced himself, holding out a hand.

Cody took it, the pale skin almost glowing agaisnt his darker tone. With his soft features and prim tone, Cody was expecting his hands to as equally delicate. Instead, his palms were hard and his shake was firm with not so subtle strength. Its then that he relates that there is much more to this boy than meets the eye.

"Cody Fett-Ti." He replied.

"Fett-Ti?" The boy- no Obi-Wan asked with a raised brow. "I was going to ask if you have a twin because there's a guy in my homeroom who looks identical to you. Although I could've sworn his last name was Koon?"

"I do have a twin." Cody confessed. "But since he's in my homeroom, your probably thinking of one of my half brothers."

"Oh really? Sorry I didn't mean to pry or anything." Obi-Wan appologised.

Cody waved him off. 

"Don't worry about it. There's a lot more of us. Dad wasn't very good at keeping it in his pants." Cody winced. A voice at the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Rex, scolded him for being an oversharing idiot. But before he could panic too much, Obi-Wan burst out laughing. The other boys cheeks burnt red  and Cody was fascinated by how it completely blocked out his freckles.

"I have two siblings but they're not in high school yet." Obi-wan told him once he'd caught his breath, stiffly diverting the topic away from his father's love life which was probably for the best. Despite only being fourteen, it is something Cody already knows way to much about.

Obi-Wan unlocked his phone holding it out towards him. Cody looked at screen. On it is a picture of Obi-Wan with his arms around a scowling tween and a little girl with patches of vitiligo on her beaming face.

"They're adopted." Obi-wan told him, even thought it's pretty obvious with how they have no physical resemblance to eachother.

"Cool." Cody said because he of all people could relate to families being complicated. But before he can open his mouth to tell him as much, the classroom door slammed open.

The sharp clap of heels rung out agsint the slick floor as the teacher entered the room. She shut the door abruptly, bringing the chatter down to near silent within seconds. Her sharp blue eyes contrasted with the dark of her skin, piercing each of them with a stare. She came to a sudden stop behind the desk, surveying the class with intent. She came to a sudden stop behind the desk.

"My name is Ms Gallia. This is Freshman biology. If you are in the wrong room leave now."

Nobody dared to move.

"Good." She stated, tucking a stray braid behind her ear and Cody was suorised to catch a steak of purple underneath it. "Now, the person at your desk will be your lab partner for the rest of the semester. No exceptions. I want one person from every pair to get out a bunson burner from the cupboards. And no pushing!"

Obi-wan turned to him, the corners of his lips turned up in a half smile, half smirk. 

"I guess we're partners then."

For some reason Cody liked the way the word sounded on Obi-Wan’s lips. He told himself we was glad to have been able to make a new friend. And he was. He had actually enjoyed talking with Obi-Wan.  Plus this might have been the first time in a while that he had been able to hold a semi-normal conversation with someone who wasn't one of his brothers. Rex would be proud.

Cody didn't say any of that to Obi-Wan though. Instead he shrugged in agreement.

"Looks like it.' He said before getting out of his chair to go find whatever a bunion burner was. Not knowing until years later, what that conversation would lead too.

[multistoty]

@multi-royalty​

“You look pretty in all these photos. Though my dad shouldn’t have long hair ever again.” Hope was certain that her heart rate was capable of being picked up on by the vampire as it settled some and her and the tiny rabbit she carried settled against the woman. It must have been the same sort of teasing that Kol did and paled when she repeated about. Her dad had said that Elijah slept like a bat. She had edited some of it. Like kol saying she was a cacophony of unending sound constantly filling her ears. He had been a good best friend though and helped bring Rebekah out of her shell. They had said she was the most excited for her. That she had always wanted a baby so maybe the halo haired woman was a bit jealous of her being wrapped around Hayley, but she was the only family she had been able to truly meet in this time. “I know that you left all those dress up clothes for me. And I heard some stories. For a while, I wasn’t sure if you all were really in those coffins and Grandma Mary seemed to hate you. You all are loud though you seem to love me just as much as my mom. Don’t be sad. I wasn’t trying to be mean. But they all acted like you would want to play with me. We can have british tea parties, but Uncle Kol is the one who is always with me even if he’s grumpy. They- I thought the bad guys took you again. And mommy too. And I don’t know enough of my magic to control it and save you. I don’t want you guys to leave or want to leave. You were in coffins! And a little boy used to live in this house. I found his toys.” 

[mariamermaid]

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Young Sirius Black x fem Potter!Reader

Summary:  When puberty suddenly hits you and your brother´s best friend realizes his interest in you

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: drinking underaged, mentions of smoking, swearing

A/N: Inspired by Anne-Marie´s song, but not really following the lyrics

 It happened from your summer break to your fifth year in Hogwarts, for your brother James it was his sixth year.

It was, what you would call the perfect summer; You had spent it with your friend Sarah in Spain, her family owned a stunning little cottage near Barcelona. The golden beach and the hot sun brought you back with a stunning tan and even a few freckles decorated your face now. Due to many trips to the mountains and the regular exercise of swimming, playing beachball and evenings dancing on the streets beneath moonlight, you had toned up and lost some body fat. A late, maybe even a drunk decision to get a new haircut and the obsessive amount of the new clothes, that completely reinvented your sense of fashion.

The time abroad away from your family felt like a gasp of freedom to you. You loved your parents and even your brother James, if he wasn´t annoying you, dearly, but that summer you felt grown-up and independent. You found new assets, hobbies, interests and confidence to further follow them. You hadn´t planned it, but your glow up transformation was born.

You came back just a few days before school was starting and somehow, you even looked forward to it. A new found motivation to become the best version of yourself pushed you to new limits. Not even the fact that Sirius Black had moved in with your family, could shatter your positive attitude.

 “Mom, where did Dad put my luggage, I brought a few souvenirs I wanted to give you!”, you asked while looking through your backpack for a hair tie. Your mother, who had already settled back in the kitchen, her natural habitat, to get some iced tea, shrugged.

“I don´t know, darling, didn´t he put them in your room already?”

Nevertheless, it felt good to be home again.

Your father entered the dining and kitchen area from outside, a suitcase of yours in each of his hands. Just as he was about to call your brother for help, James jumped down the staircase and patted your father on the shoulder. “In a second, dad?”

James, who always had been taller than you, eyed your astonished. “Who is that girl in our home? Is that even my sister anymore?” You chuckled as he gave you a quick hug.

“Shut up James, you´re just jealous that you´re still pale like a snow owl!”

While the two of you started your casual process of sibling bickering, Sirius carefully stepped down the stairs as well. From the back, he observed your figure.

All those years, you had been James´s sister or the younger Potter, but for the first time, you didn´t perish next to James. Actually, you overshone him. James, who was athletic due to the Quidditch practice, still had a crooked and flabby posture. It didn´t help that he was used to swagger through the halls of Hogwarts. But you? You remained with your head held high, your shoulders relaxed and your tanned skin freshly glowing.

“Y/n.”

You turned to find Sirius starring at you; you couldn´t point his look, but you gave him a polite, regardless smile. “Sirius”, you greeted him. Your voice wasn´t rude or cold, still it didn´t match the voice you´d use to talk to James. “Or should I call you brother number two?”

A painfully small grin was brought to his lips. Over the course of years, the two of you barely exchanged words. But yet, you were a constant part of his life. Yes, he had spent many Christmas holidays with your family. He most definitely spent more time with James than you. You were his best friend’s sister, right?

But why did it suddenly bother him, that you called him brother?

“Y/n, Sirius is staying in the guest room from now on. We didn´t use the room anyway, did we?”

The Potter residency had an altogether combined number of four floors; the basement with storage and washing area. The main floor with kitchen, dining and living room, leading to the outdoor terrace and garden and your parent´s bedroom. The second floor with James´s bedroom, your father´s study room and of course, the guest bedroom, which now belonged to Sirius. Last but not least the attic, which was renovated to your room. A point which had caused James and you to argue for several years; the attic was an amazing room and much larger than other bedrooms in the house. James lost the argument due to very weak points. To quote your mother, James spent more time outside doing mischief than actually staying in his room.

You were more relieved than ever to have not only your own room, but basically your own floor. You didn´t mind Sirius, but you needed your space and you didn´t wanted to be involved with their pranks.

“James, help me with my suitcase, will you?” You exclaimed, but your brother already made his way to the kitchen. By his moving pattern, you knew he was up to no good.

“Mom, don´t you and Dad usually spent the weekend at Cindy´s?” You couldn´t help but rolling your eyes at his comment. The last weekend before school begins; James´s house party.

Your parents knew he´d like to bring friends over at that weekend, they didn´t know about half of the school coming and the amount of beer and fire whisky.

“James?” You sighed, but your brother was pursuing his own goals.

“I´ll help you”, Sirius suddenly spoke up and hurried next to you. He took the suitcases without much effort and immediately started carrying them upstairs. On the stairs, you passed the Black boy to open the door to your room for him. Sirius noticed your swift movement and was reminded of James playing Quidditch. Clearly you both inherited that gene. Sirius put down the luggage and couldn´t help but eye your room with growing eyes. The high wooden ceiling, which was decorated with fairy lights and pictures and painting on the walls. You had a secret talent to be good at drawing and detailed sketches of plants, you had learned about in school, hung over your desk. Pictures of you and James at the age of toddlers and family portraits from Christmas. In one of them was even Sirius. You realized how he didn´t leave your room and eyed him warry as he starred at the pictures.

“I´ve never been to your room.”

“Don´t get used to it.” You heaved your suitcase up on your bed to start the sorting out process and Sirius turned away from the pictures, raising his eyebrow. “It´s my room.”

His eyes glided over the silk sheets of your bed and he couldn´t help but wonder, how you looked when waking up in the morning by rays of sunshine falling through the windows. Have you watched him playing Quidditch with James from those windows? Ever so slightly he shook his head to get rid of that thought. You´re James´s sister, he reminded himself.

There weren´t really rumors about you in school, unlike James´s reputation. But there was one thing Sirius knew all too well; you were not to mess with. What your brother inherited in talent, was put together with an almost deadly preciseness. He saw you battling a student in his year once, you won without even breaking a sweat.

“The new hair suits you”, he suddenly added before leaving your room and closing the door behind him. Your mother had pin pointed every single detail that had changed about you, but you´d never guessed that heartbreaker Sirius Black would comment on it…

 James Potter was awfully good at talking people into doing what he desired. And James Potter desired a more memorable house party each year, thanks his ego. Previously, you had spent the weekend at Sarah´s, but after an entire summer, you were left home as well. Against your own anticipation, you didn´t mind. Was it the fact, that you had partied and danced more the entire summer than anyone could imagine? Maybe.

“Y/n, you look out for James, don´t let him do stupid things!” Like a house party? Lingered on your tongue, but you smiled bitter sweet. “It´s hard to look out for somebody as stupid as James.”

Your mother wrinkled her eyebrows, but your dad let out a laughing grunt. “They´ll be fine”, he reassured your mother, before kissing you on top of your head and heading out.

“It´s hard to look out for somebody as stupid as James”, James voice filled the air while he imitated you. He and Sirius came down to the living room, a box of somewhat decorations in their hands.

James was everything but stupid, even though there were times, where you questioned his IQ. He took out old wine bottles with candles in them and packed away your mom´s favorite cutlery and vase. One thing less to worry.

“Tell me, Y/n, do the Spain kiss good?” He continued to mock you.

“Better than the British”, you answered sweetly. A sour taste spread in Sirius mouth, but James pressed his jaw together. He hadn´t expected the answer from you, his sweet innocent little sister.

“Should I worry about you tonight?” He asked a little more serious now, but you ruffled through his precious locks. “Why? Afraid I´ll crash your party?”

“Who are you and what have you done to my baby sister?” He yelled after you, while you left the room to go upstairs, chuckling.

The marauders were first to arrive; Moony, Wormtail and obviously Padfoot and Prongs himself. Remus also brought Lily Evans, your brother´s secret, not so secretly girlfriend. You watched as they arrived one by one from the window at your desk. The golden boy and his gang, all complete.

The past few days, you had taken your time to do whatever you pleased. Your mother didn´t force any of you to have breakfast or lunch together, due to the fact that you all had different sleeping patterns. You had spent it at your desk, getting ready for school, journaling about your holidays, sorting out pictures and old clothes. In the garden helping your mother put together bouquets of flowers or riding your bike around your favorite trails and sceneries. Really you hadn´t seen much of your brother or Sirius.

You took your time getting ready, the Marauder´s already starting off with drinking. You had invited Sarah and when you saw her and her older sister, who was in James´s year, arriving, you finally made your way downstairs. James, Sirius and Remus were grouped around the kitchen aisle, debating sport games with three more guys from Gryffindor. Matt Atkins, Hogwarts second bad boy after Sirius, eyes suddenly grew big as he ran dry. His remarkably sharp jaw fell down and his mouth open. “Who is she?”

You casually strolled down the stairs, even wearing some strapped heels together with a new dress from Spain. A rather hard punch let Matt yelp, James annoyed eyes bringing him to his knees. “That´s my sister”, he muttered with his teeth grinding.

The golden boy was about to be pushed from his throne by his own sister.

You gave the group of boys a knowing smirk before welcoming Sarah, who was glowing with the same tan as you. “Seems like Spain has been muy beneficioso per nos.”

Your laughter filled the air, as not only the marauder but also several other male creatures watched the two of you chat. “How´s Gabriel?” You asked her instead and Sarah blushed. Her apparent summer fling had made it clear, that his feelings were a little stronger than just a fling.

“He wrote me a letter with a poem”, she blushed. Before continuing the topic, a boy joined the two of you. “Ladies, can I get you something to drink?”

James was quick to appear next to you, a sudden wave of protectiveness had overcome him. “She´s my sister and she doesn´t drink.”

“Yes, yes she does.”

Lily, who had joined her boyfriend, snickered at your response. James watched you wide eyed, as did the boy, walking to the kitchen with Sarah after dropping the comment; “Not from you though.”

Sirius, who´s blood alcohol level was already high enough, started smirking as you approached. The feelings he had pushed back and buried, arose in him.

“Y/n, care for a drink?” “Yes, Black, I do.”

As he fished two cups for you and Sarah, the group starred at you. Matt Atkins was first to speak up again. His initial shock about Sirius approaching you, was put back after he remembered that he lived with you and James now. Remus and Peter watched the scene, secretly exchanging a bet of how quickly you would decline Atkins.

“So, Y/n, tell me how was Spain?”

You leaned on the counter top, a trick that had earned you free drinks in bars before, and smiled.

“Hot.”

Sirius passed you the cups and you nodded thanking. His senses tingled, an explosion rushing through his veins. He wasn´t to construe it the past few days, but drunk words are sober thoughts and Sirius´s attraction towards you, grew with each second. Peter slid the money to Remus, Matt Atkins had no chance.

The party continued into the evening and quickly into the night. You were sure that at least 50 people were there, with a few outside maybe more. James, who didn´t enjoy himself as much as he´d like to, was also too stubborn to admit it. You didn´t like how he watched, almost babysitted you, lingering ready to scare away any potential boy flirting. It was until Lily finally swept in and took his mind off you.

Outside remained a small bonfire, which was coming to an end, but you still decided to catch some fresh air. You had more cups than your brother knew about, but he was kissing Lily in the corner and didn´t realize your slight staggering.

James wasn´t stupid, but stupid enough to completely miss the fact that his own best friend was falling in love with you. And he was following you outside.

“Y/n Potter, you surprise me.” Sirius voice was low and a little rough, which was explained as he pulled out a cigarette. You took another sip of who knew what mixture and smiled innocently at him. “Why´s that, Black?”

You never called him Black before, until this summer. An unconscious defense mechanism.

It had taken Sirius five days after your initial arrival to realize that he´d liked you way more than he should and now there was no turning back. He was acting on pure instinct now and so did you. But your instinct told you, that Sirius Black was a heartbreaker.

“What do want, Black?” You asked whispering as he slowly came closer, his hand reaching up to tuck back strands of your hair. This was dangerous, but you liked playing with fire. “You.”

Your laugh was bitter.

“We're nothing more than friends. You're not my lover, more like a brother. I´ve known you since we were like ten.”

You left him behind in the approaching cold from the night and the dying fire. Sirius cursed at himself and ruffled through his hand. “Fuck!”

How could he have been so stupid? You were his best friend´s sister! You were James´s sister! Of course, you didn´t see him in any romantic way and now he not only embarrassed himself to the bone, but probably ruined any kind of friendship with you. He threw the leftover cigarette into the fire, there was only one solution left; alcohol.

 Don't mess it up, talking that shit

Only gonna push me away, that's it!

When you say you love me, that make me crazy

Here we go again

 Sirius Black was astonishing good in hiding feelings and even better at drowning them. At least for the next hour or so. That was until the music box suddenly played a Spanish song with a typical reggae beat and laughing, you pulled Sarah onto the dancefloor in the middle of the living room. Oh, how you had learned to swing your hips at the rhythm.

James was burning in fury and he wanted to punch every single pair of eyes laying on your figure. Luckily, he couldn´t and much too quick for your dismay, the song ended. The room echoed in applause and howlers, and giggling you left the stage with Sarah. The two of you were used to being drunk together and lazily you found your seat on the bathroom floor.

“James isss going to kill youuuu”, Sarah laughed as she not so gracefully, kneeled onto the floor. It didn´t help that after you sat down at the brim of the bathtub, fell over crackling.

“Oh my god!” Sarah suddenly exclaimed startled. You leaned forward surprised, legs still hanging over the brim. “What?”

“We don´t have anything to drink anymoreeee! I´ll be back in a second, just stay here!”

You leaned back, head against the wall, softly humming in response. “I don´t even think I´m able to leave, I´ll wait!” For a few seconds, you closed your eyes; enjoying the buzz of the liquor and the music in the background. You heard the door open and close again.

“Merlin Sarah, you´re flying when it comes to-.“ It wasn´t Sarah, it was Sirius. You eyed him with furrowed brows. “Did you at least get me something to drink?”

He had a cup in his hands and eyed it, pondering to give it to you, or drink it himself. But you leaned forward, grabbing his arm and then snatching the drink from his fingers. He found himself starring into your big eyes, not wanting to look away.

“Don´t you have enough boys outside to bring you drinks?” He asked and you shrugged while taking a big sip. “But you´re here, aren´t you?” The sentence made his heart beat quicker.

“Don't go look at me with that look in your eye”, you then added and avoided his glance again.

“Why not?”

“You know why, but apparently you really ain't going away without a fight.”

He suddenly turned to you, pushing one of his hands against the wall, the other one trailing down to your neck. His fingers brushed against your skin and you felt goosebumps crawling down your spin. He was leaning, yes hovering above you and his eyes wandered back and forth from your eyes to your lips. Stubbornly, you looked up to him.

“You can't be reasoned with, I'm done being polite. Haven't I made it obvious?” You pushed yourself a little up from the bathtub, your face only inches away. But the look on your face was stern and certain. “Haven't I made it clear? Want me to spell it out for you?

F-R-I-E-N-D-S”

Sarah pushed open the door and rolled her eyes, she had obviously noticed the boy´s attention towards you. “Back off, Black.”

Sirius was caught off guard by her, which gave you space and time to pull yourself out of the tub, leaving him sitting there.

 The night only slowly continued after your clashing in the bathroom. Remus watched his friend with plaintive eyes. He had realized the silence and even more oblivious, his sad stares into your direction. It wasn´t hard to guess really, but he understood his reticent mood. You were his best friends’ little sister and he knew, James would kill for you. If anyone were to break your heart and if that anyone was Sirius, the friendship could be over.

On the other hand, there was one thing Remus knew, Sirius had never acted like this around a girl.

“You shouldn’t give up yet.” Sirius glanced back at him and rolled his eyes.

“She´s sees me as a friend, I´m like a brother to her.”

“You don´t dance like this in front of your friend. Y/n and James both know how to get the things they want. It´s probably a family disorder”, Remus chuckled. But he became stern again, laying a hand on his friend´s back. “She´s playing with you, you know it. And I have to admit, she plays better than you, Padfoot. You liked this girl way before, before the summer, before she started flirting with you today.”

“I didn´t-“

“Yes, you did. Or why did you stress out about getting her a Christmas and birthday gift every year since knowing James? Why did it bother both you and James, about Kevin making that remark last year? You broke his nose, in case you forgot.”

Remus was right, he was way too often for Sirius taste. He liked you more than a friend from the second he laid eyes on you. He swore himself to protect you, but now he was the endangerment of hurting you and it scared him.

People left the party; it was past 3.a.m. and Lily started putting away empty cups. He knew Sarah would sleep at the Potter house tonight and just in second, he caught sight of you carrying a blanket upstairs. “You´re the best, Moony and I hate you for it.”

He hurried up the stairs and caught you just in front of your room.

“Y/n, wait!”

You sighed heavily. “Sirius, I´m tired and Sarah´s laying on my bathroom floor throwing up.”

He tried to remember every formal etiquette ever taught to him while establishing and taking together his bravery. Hundreds, yes thousands of pranks and yet, he never had been this nervous. You eyed him wary. “Have you got no shame? You looking insane. Here we go again.”

“I´m sorry for acting like a dick.”

The apology took you a step back, surprised.

“Don't go look at me with that look in your eye.”

His tongue brushed against his lip. “Why not, Y/n? Afraid to admit it?”

“For Merlin´s Sake, get that shit inside your head, Sirius! We´re just friends.”

His hand lingered on the wall to your back. It was the second time he had encircled you, but this time around, you didn´t see an outlet. Maybe you didn´t want one either. You felt his breath tingling against your skin and against your anticipation, the scene felt intimate and fragile to you.

“I like you, Y/n. I´ve liked you for a while now and I suppressed it. You´re right, I´m heartbreaker, and I knew, if I was to break yours, I wouldn´t be able to live with myself.”

You felt your shaky breathing, the dim light coming from downstairs barely gave enough away.

“You made it obvious. You made it very clear. But I wanted- needed you to know this; you were and never will be just a friend to me.” He gulped, lowering his glance.

“And I´m sorry, if that´s going to push you away.”

You dropped the blanket to the ground, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him down. The kiss was passionate, but dripping like honey; sweet and slowly. His hands grabbed your waist and you inhaled his deep musky scent.

You leaned away from him with caution, sighing. “Sarah´s vomiting and I´m making out, I´m a terrible friend.” Sirius chuckled lowly, his nose brushing against yours again.

“I´m glad we´re more than friends then.”

[dont-cry2020]

“Too Early for Another One?”

Harry Styles x Reader

//Dad! Harry realizes that his baby girl isn’t his baby girl anymore, and you reminisce on your past together//

//LOTS of fluff, a tiny bit of angst, and mentions of smut but no actual smut//

//This ones really long oops hehe 2,725 words//

It seems like just yesterday when Harry’s oldest daughter was born. He remembers how brave you were, painfully giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. He remembers how overwhelmed he felt as she let her first tiny cry. He couldn’t help but choke back a sob at the sight of her. She was wholly you and Harry together, and he couldn’t wait to have more kids with you. 

The name Margot was your idea; you had always loved the name, and the French influence reminded you of Harry. Not to mention she had her father’s green eyes and, you would come to learn, his unruly hair. Harry had loved the idea of Margot. He thought it was beautiful, just like you, he told you, his baby girl gripping his finger as his other arm was thrown across your shoulders, holding the most beautiful baby you had ever laid eyes on.

Anne, Margot’s middle name, was Harry’s doing. He liked having his mother present in his daughter’s name, especially seeing as she taught him everything he needed to know about babies when she learned about y/n’s pregnancy. Even the more ~gruesome~ details. Harry was thankful nonetheless; fatherhood terrified him. Although, you never hesitated to tell him how amazing of a father he was to your children.

Especially after you had three more... 

Harry really couldn’t help himself back then. He’d go on tour for two weeks at a time, flying back to spend time with his family. He’d always say, “Too early for another one?” after he put the kids to bed, and you would just slap his arm and roll your eyes. 

It was a Friday night at the Styles’ residence, and you were busy in the kitchen cooking dinner and entertaining your two-year-old, Fletcher, as your ten-year-old, Matt, chased your six-year-old, Piper, around the house.

Harry puts his keys in the front door, ruffling his hair as he walks into the large foyer and kicks his shoes off.

“Matt! Put that down and stop chasing your sister!” Harry chuckles under his breath as he hears your frustration.

“I’m home!” he shouts, just loud enough for the kids in the kitchen to come running towards him. A string of “Daddy!”s are heard as they run into his arms.

“Hey guys,” Harry says enthusiastically, kissing his two kids on the head. “How was school?” 

Harry smiles as Piper babbles on about the art project she did in Kindergarten today and Matt goes on about how his friend drank hot sauce in the school cafeteria. He ruffles his son’s hair, his smirk prominent from his kids’ amusing anecdotes.

You pad out of the kitchen, Fletcher on your hip, and smile at the gorgeous man laughing and talking with your kids. It was these moments that made you fall in love with Harry all over again. He was the best father any kid could ask for, and he always made time for your children, even if it meant gunning it from the airport to make it to dance recitals and plays and award ceremonies. His job didn’t make it easy on him, but he always managed to spend as much time as possible with his family. 

Harry finally looked up from his chattering kids, a tired smile meeting yours. His heart swells as he takes in your messy hair and flustered appearance, no doubt from trying to keep your three youngest from killing each other. 

“Hi, beautiful,” Harry says, sauntering towards you with Piper and Matt at his side. 

“Hi, Harry,” You say softly, pressing your lips to his. 

“Ew!” Matt screams, running upstairs, Piper at his heels. 

“No running in the house!” Harry shouts up the stairs, his lips still twisted in a wide grin, before pressing his lips to your forehead and taking Flecther from you. Harry follows you into the kitchen, sighing at the smell of dinner cooking on the stove.

“It smells delicious in here, y/n,” he says, bouncing your youngest on his hip and making funny faces at him. “Doesn’t it, Fletch?” Harry uses his ‘baby voice’, and it makes you melt.

You lean against the counter, pouring yourself a glass of wine and offering one to Harry, with which he happily obliges.

“Thank you, Har,” you say, pouring him a glass of Rose and kissing him on the cheek. “and thank you, Fletch.” You kiss your baby boy on the cheek too, and he laughs at you, making you and Harry smile. 

“How was your day?” you ask your husband, tending to the food on the stove. Harry thinks for a moment, opening his mouth and closing it, furrowing his brow. 

“Where’s Margot?” He asks, a frown drawn up on his tanned face. You purse your lips at his comment. 

“She’s probably just in her room, face-timing that boy she likes.”

Harry’s eyes widen. He was not aware that his baby girl liked a boy. “She what? She’s 16!”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at his father-like instincts. 

“Harry,” you scold, pulling what smelled so good out of the oven. “We met when I was 16, remember? And you were 17.”

Harry chokes on his wine, having to take a moment to compose himself. Memories of you and him as teenagers flood through his head. “Shit,” he curses under his breath. You give him a scolding look and he mutters a ‘sorry’, after glancing at the toddler still bouncing on his hip.

“Can you go get the kids for dinner, please?” you ask him, taking Fletcher from him.

“ ‘Course, baby,” he says, sauntering out of the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you set the table for five people, placing Flecther on his high chair next to you.

Harry goes up the stairs, first stopping in Piper’s room and then going to Matt’s, telling them that it’s time for dinner. He chuckles at how Matt consistently chases Piper everywhere they go. 

Harry stops in front of Margot’s door, going to knock, but stopping his fist from hitting the wood when he hears strange noises coming from inside her room. Harry presses his ear to the door and listens. It wasn’t abnormal to hear talking or loud music coming from his daughter’s room, and she liked to keep her door closed so her younger brother wouldn’t go through her things. These sounds, though, were certainly not talking or music. 

Harry felt his face pale at the moans coming from the other side of the door. Not his daughter. His sweet baby girl. He felt like he was going to be sick.

 And then the rage set in.

 He lets his fist rap against the door, before barging into the room. 

A boy whom Harry had never seen before was on top of his daughter. Margot shrieked, grabbing the sheet and covering herself. The boy’s eyes were wide with horror as he stumbled around the room, looking for his pants.

“Get your clothes on and come downstairs. You have five minutes,” Harry says through gritted teeth, slamming the bedroom door behind him. 

Harry felt like he had failed as a father.

The worst feeling is when you don’t have control over a situation, and Harry knew that feeling all too well. 

 His baby girl, his first child, the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on (besides you, of course) was losing her virginity at 16. What if that wasn’t her first time? What if? 

Harry slid down the wall, his head buried in his hands. 

“Fuck,” he swore. What if I was too hard on them? Should I have just let them finish? Thoughts run through his head and he tugs at his hair. 

“Harry?” you call from the bottom of the stairs. You amble up the tall staircase when you don’t receive an answer. His large body is propped up against the wall, crumpled in a ball with his hands covering his face. You fall to his side, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you comfort your husband, kissing the top of his head and squeezing him lightly. He removed his hands from his face, meeting your y/e/c eyes with his glassy green ones. You cup his jaw in your hands. “Hmm?”

“Do you remember when we first had sex?”

You let out a short laugh, puffing air out of your nose. “Yeah, I do,” you can’t help the smile that takes over your face as you recall the moment.

You were 16 and you had met Harry at a Starbucks in New York, of all places. He had ordered before you, and you couldn’t help but check out his broad back and the disheveled hair that topped his head. You ordered your coffee and stood by the counter next to the boy who ordered before you.

You recall how you would glance at him, and then he would glance at you when you turned away, and then you both did it at the same time, laughing and blushing at your silly antics. 

“I’m Harry,” he had said, his British accent taking you by surprise. 

“y/n,” you said, taking his large hand and shaking it. “What’s a Brit like you doing in New York City?” you ask him, smirking. You remember scanning his face and taking in his green eyes and pink lips. 

You remember how your thoughts were interrupted as your name was called for your coffee. You hadn’t realized that Harry had already received his drink, and he was just waiting for you.

“I’m actually in a band,” he said, scratching the back of his neck and turning a little pink.

 After that, he had asked what you were doing today because he had the day off. You said that you weren’t doing anything, just planning on going back to your apartment. He then asked you to give him a tour of the city, and you happily obliged. 

The two of you exchanged numbers, and he promised to take you out on a proper date the next time he was in the city. 

It was May when he met you, and by July, you were sure he had forgotten about you. But when he called, telling you that he was back and he wanted to see you, you were ecstatic. 

He took you to dinner and then back to his hotel room where you spent the night, losing your virginity to him. He asked you to be his girlfriend and promised to call you every day. 

Your daughter’s bedroom door bursts open, pulling you out of your thoughts. Harry bolts up from the floor and you do the same when you see the boy that follows her. Your eyes widen, finally realizing why Harry was upset.

“What’s going on here?” you say, fully aware of what’s going on from the bruise on Margot’s neck. 

She clears her throat. “Mom, Dad,” she hesitates “this is Chris.” Chris nods, not meeting either of your eyes. 

“Chris,” Harry says, anger flooding back into him. You look up at him, interlocking your fingers as a way to say ‘calm down’. He sighs. 

“I suggest you go home.”

“Margot, why don’t you let Chris out, okay hun?” you say as softly as you can. She nods, silently leading the boy down the stairs. 

Harry collapses in your arms, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling your sent. You laugh softly at him, wrapping your arms around his large body bent over into yours. 

“Okay, ya big baby,” you joke, rubbing your hand up and down his back comfortingly. He mumbles something along the lines of ‘ ‘m not a baby’ into your neck before standing and straightening himself up.

You sigh and rub your hands over his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of the button up he wore to the studio today. 

“How are we going to deal with this?” Harry looks tired. The bags under his eyes are heavy, his pink lips pressed into a pout. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers, running ringed fingers through his hair. �� ‘M not mad about the whole ‘havin’ sex’ thing,” he says “ ‘m jus’... mad tha’ she didn’t talk to us first. ‘M baby girl,” he mumbles. 

“I know,” you say, resting your head on his chest. “Your baby girl is grown up now, though. And, yeah, she should have talked to us first... But- we did stupid things back then too. Remember when I had to call my mom and tell her that I was staying with a friend when you were literally on top of me?” 

Harry smiles at the memory. “Ye-yeah,” he chuckles “i do remember tha’”

Margot saunters up the stairs, looking around nervously. Harry releases you from his arms and looks at his daughter. He wraps his arms around her, taking her by surprise before she melts into her father’s embrace. 

“I love you, Dad,” she says, making your heart melt at your husband and your daughter. 

“I love you, too,” he says, pulling away and resting his hands on her shoulders. 

Harry sighs, turning to look at you for help. 

“Why don’t we go eat dinner and we talk about this later?” you say, grabbing your daughter's hand and giving it a squeeze. They nod and follow you down the stairs in silence. 

Harry laughed as Fletcher babbled with food in his mouth, refusing to eat it. 

“C’mon Fletch,” you say, pushing the spoon to his mouth. “Open up.”

Everyone at the table laughs as Fletcher refuses the spoon, making a mess on the high chair and his face. 

“Guys, please put your plates in the dishwasher,” Harry says after everyone finishes eating. Harry gives you a nervous look and you kiss his cheek softly, muttering an ‘it’s going to be okay’ into his ear. He squeezes your hip lightly in acknowledgment. 

You and Harry walk up the staircase and you peek into Margot’s room, lightly knocking on the wood of the door. She looks up and smiles, letting you come in. 

You sit down on the bed next to her, Harry following suit and sitting next to you, patting your thigh. 

“Margot,” you say, “I-,” you stumble for your word and look at Harry for help.

“I’m sorry,” Margot says, looking like she’s going to cry. 

“No baby,” you say, wrapping her into a hug. 

“Margot,” Harry says, kneeling in front of his daughter. “we’re not mad at you for...that,” he chuckles to himself. “Your mom and I have had our fair share of that.”

“Harry!” you blurt, smacking his arm. Margot groans.

“Dad, please don’t.”

“Sorry, sorry. ‘M jus’ sayin’. It’s natural. We jus’ wish you would’ve talked to us first.” Harry brushes her hair behind her ears. “Jus’ wan’ you to be safe.”

Margot nods, hugging her dad. “I know.”

It was getting late at this point, so you dismissed yourself from the room to put your other kids to bed. 

You poured yourself another glass of wine (it was Friday, why not?) and changed into one of Harry’s shirts, snuggling into your king-sized bed and turning on the tv.

Harry carefully opens the door as to not wake you in case you were sleeping. He’s pleasantly surprised to find you snuggled up in one of his shirts, a glass of wine in your hand and another waiting for him. 

He would never tell you this, but he loved it when you wore his clothes. Especially the silk button-ups that hung off your frame. It drove him crazy.

He unbuttons his shirt and strips down to his boxers, your eyes shamelessly checking him out. He dives into bed, making you shriek as he laughs at you, planting a kiss on your cheek. You hand him his glass and he takes his position next to you, wrapping a muscular tattooed arm around your shoulders. 

“How’d it go?” you whisper, ghosting your fingers over his chest. His hand rests on your bare thigh, his shirt riding up a little bit, exposing the fabric of your panties. 

“Good,” he says quietly. “Really good.”

He turns to face you, a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes and place your glass of wine on the nightstand next to you. 

“Too early for another one?” 

You punch him on the shoulder as he climbs on top of you, trapping you in a sloppy kiss.

[edgelord-dl6]

REALLY   LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY .

RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog !    tag 10 !    good  luck !

TAGGED. @kamipyre​​ ilu!!! TAGGING. lots of you have been tagged already... how about @ruemorgue​​ & @fordfrontalnews​​ & @kodapi​​ & @thewrightstuff​​ ! also anybody else who would like to - please tag me as i’d love to see it !

BASICS.

FULL  NAME : miles edgeworth  //  franziska von karma

NICKNAME :  edgeyboy, worthy, demon prosecutor, edgey-wedgey, dad, pretty boy  //  franzy, fran, franny, friska, wild mare, softie

NAME  MEANING / S :   miles is latin for ‘soldier’. edgeworth does the job of his japanese name, denoting sharpness of mind and personality  //  franziska roughly equates to ‘open, honest’ & ‘free’. karma is self explanatory!

HISTORICAL  CONNECTION? : ‘edgeworth’ sounds british. i bet this bitch has some anglo-saxon in him. ugh  //  franziska is german through and through

AGE : 35  //  28

BIRTHDAY :  september 17th  //  december 27th

ETHNIC  GROUP : white white white

NATIONALITY : american  //  german  

LANGUAGE / S : fluent in english and semi-fluent in german  //  fluent in english and german, though she’ll sometimes stumble in her english

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  both masc-leaning bisexuals

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION : both biromantic

RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : man, miles has a lot of irons in the fire... technically single, but he’s being courted by a friendly reporter, and a mysterious investigator; and it’s safe to say he has feelings in one way or another for shi-long lang, phoenix wright, and dick gumshoe  //  franziska, likewise, is technically single, but is maybe being wooed by / has an annoying crush on klavier gavin. she also has a confusing sort of weird feral crush on shi-long lang, and is embarrassingly in love with phoenix wright in an ‘i want to eat you’ sort of way.

CLASS : upper class. these motherfuckers are rich

HOME  TOWN / AREA :  los angeles, california  //  munich, germany

CURRENT  HOME : los angeles, california  //  franz has a more complicated notion of home. that drafty old mansion occupies an enormous space in her mind, but LA is where the people who are dear to her often gather. she tends to feel safest on the road

PROFESSION : chief prosecutor & scholar of global judicial systems  //  international prosecutor & ICPO investigator

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : grey  //  light blue-ish teal

EYES : steel grey  //  steel grey...with a hint of blue

NOSE: i like miles with a slightly aquiline nose. in the game it’s sort of long with a prominent bridge, and a little upturned at the end  //  franziska’s nose resembles her dad’s - angular, yet daintier

FACE : miles has a longer face with an angular jaw  //  franziska’s face is rounder, with a sharp chin

LIPS : miles has surprisingly full lips ( like, hello?? )  //  franziska’s lips are much thinner, but shapely

COMPLEXION : both quite pale. these are not outdoorsy people - and they spend long hours cooped up in offices, being ridiculous.

SCARS : small and faint gash below his left shoulder  //  bullet wound in her left shoulder

TATTOOS : none...BUT wow wouldn’t franziska look amazing with a full back piece?! i can see her with a tiger design...

HEIGHT : 5′10″ ( 178cm )  //  5′4″ ( 162cm )

BUILD : miles is thick. he takes good care of himself because he knows it’s how he’ll maintain his energy and keep going going going. he’s got a broad chest and thick yet curvaceous limbs, and his waist is quite shapely.  //  franziska is thin and lithe - she’s all lean muscle. her chest is smaller and her hips are bony and sharp. she walks around in heels all the time so her calves are fucking ripped and her butt is beautiful

USUAL HAIR STYLE : you folks know this already! they both take impeccable care of their hair, but miles will spend more time on his in the morning - slicking it back and shaping it. franziska brushes hers at least a bit each morning - a little routine

USUAL FACE LOOK : they both look mean lmao. their eyes are always narrowed, like they’re scrutinizing something - and they are, constantly. and frowning. miles in particular is known for having a vicious stare, but he usually doesn’t mean anything by it...

USUAL  CLOTHING : casual yet sophisticated. he tends to wear muted or solid colors. the brightest outfit he owns is a pink polo and khaki slacks. on off days he’s usually in a button-up and dark slacks, but he’ll put on a turtleneck when he wants to look nice. he also owns several blazers  //  franziska rarely wears skirts outside of her work outfit. she prefers casual, elegant things that are easy to move around in - her favorite outfit is a pair of tight jeans and a black knit turtleneck. she’s been spotted in tanktops if they can hide her scar, and she’s been known to accessorize with various designer sunglasses and hats

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : earthquakes, elevators, small & confined spaces, lack of air or being unable to breathe, guns and gunshots  //  failure, uselessness, emotional vulnerability, being touched ( oddly enough, she hates being touched gently or grazed, and prefers when a touch is direct, meaningful, or purposeful - perhaps because she can understand the intent behind it ), being restrained

ASPIRATION / S : the truth - always the truth. whether personal or universal, whether painful or liberating, he seeks the truth  // glory and personal vindication. she’s trying to figure out who she is and what she needs - she’s seeking inner truth

POSITIVE  TRAITS : despite his fussiness and loner tendencies he’s quite selfless and will go out of his way for other people. he’s a fair and level-headed problem solver, and surprisingly loyal  //  possesses zero tolerance for bullshit, so she will always call you out and dive straight to the heart of a matter. she’s incredibly motivated, and constantly seeking her best self, so she’s more likely to try new things ( so she can be the best at them! )

NEGATIVE  TRAITS : rarely looks inward, so dealing with personal matters is like herding cats. a bit of a loner, and surprisingly dramatic, he tends to be not great at casual interaction unless he’s known you for a long time. incredibly stubborn. distrustful, prideful...  //  oh boy, where do i start? violent, egomaniacal, combative, vain, brusque, close-minded...i love her so much

MBTI : i hate these lol

ZODIAC : virgo  //  capricorn  ( like me! )

TEMPERAMENT : melancholic  //  choleric

ANIMALS : black leopard  //  tiger

VICE / S : pride  //  wrath

GHOSTS ? : they’re both suuuper skeptical, but franziska is potentially more likely to let her imagination run wild

AFTERLIFE ? : they don’t often think about it...even tho maya fey is RIGHT THERE--

REINCARNATION ? : probably not?

ALIENS ? : probably not...

POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT : they’re both left-leaning. in their earlier years i’m sure they were more centrist, annoying rich liberals, or maybe even right-leaning - they were both raised to be obsessed with rules and hierarchy and absolutes. they still carry some of that, but both of them have come to places where they question that hierarchy and actively attempt to change it, so they are at least leftists. in my dreams, miles is a socialist and franziska is an anarchist LOL

ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :  miles makes bank, but he’s much more likely to spend it on other people - he’s a simple man  //  franziska has more expensive taste and is more likely to be frivolous but she’s making less money now and is partially relying on her family’s extensive coffers

SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : am i dumb that i can’t differentiate this from political alignment? idk they are bourgeoisie lmao.

EDUCATION  LEVEL : like...i truly don’t know i mean they were both practicing law ENTIRELY too early ( miles at 20 and franz at THIRTEEEEEN ) . i get the feeling they were mostly home-schooled and maybe took some university classes but like...they make no sense lmao

FAMILY.

FATHER :  sweet, sweet gregory edgeworth  //  bitter, bitter manfred von karma

MOTHER : we have no information on miles’ mother. my headcanon is that she wasn’t prepared to raise him, and left, and that gregory doesn’t really bear her any ill will, and that’s that!  //  no info on franziska’s mother either. i picture her as cold and distant, shrewd and sharp - probably some level of prideful that she bears heirs for the von karma name, otherwise a very small presence/influence on her daughter’s life

EXTENDED  FAMILY : miles has collected a lot of found-family. gumshoe, kay, phoenix, trucy, and raymond could all be considered family to him. verse-dependent, imogen kastel has become his daughter figure. and, of course, there’s his adoptive sister  //  franziska has older sisters, at least one niece, and a very wide extended family i’m sure - but she’s not close with any of them ( ; m ; )

FAVOURITES.

BOOK :  man...they probably read boring shit because they are joyless martyrs. they’ve both had the “classics” thrown at them en masse. miles has a soft spot for jane austen, and reads a lot about history and global philosophy  //  same deal for franziska, but she likes dostoyevsky

MOVIE : beau travail made miles cry ( nobody knows this ) he also OBVIOUSLY loves samurai dramas  //  franziska can barely sit through a movie without getting bored or tearing it to pieces

5  SONGS : ( sorry, i’m just gonna pick some bands and genres... ) miles likes trot, which has similarities to enka, so he also likes enka. he likes steely dan because i say so, jazz, and cheesy older songs you can either belt it to at karaoke or play while staring into the middle distance & sipping a whiskey on the rocks  //  franziska listens to really intense classical music like shostakovich, tchaikovsky, & some vivaldi, BUT SHE ALSO LOVES DEATH GRIPS and listens to exmilitary ad nauseum

DEITY : they are the beasts they worship

HOLIDAY : they both have a special affinity for christmas. neither of them are religious but they actually enjoy spending a few days together this time of year, and they tend to enjoy the cold, too

MONTH :  november  //  january

SEASON : autumn  //  winter

PLACE : his apartment, quiet cafés, the city on an autumn day  //  fancy teahouses, limosines, somewhere on the water where she can have a drink and gaze out over the horizon

WEATHER : clear and brisk days with a breeze  //  overcast with snow, or cloudless blue sky and nipping wind 

TASTE / S : savory and rich. umami  //  spicy, sour, savory - slight sweet tooth

FEEL / S : firm fabric, polished wood, a well-made fountain pen and smooth paper // leather, cool metal, brittle things that crumble

ANIMAL / S : likes calm dogs - also likes cats, he just doesn’t know it yet  //  also gets along with cats. she likes beautiful animals, like birds, especially, but also wild cats

NUMBER : ah i dunno :^(

COLOR :  wine red  //  steel blue

EXTRA.

TALENTS : being a hyper-aware and observant hardass, chess, knows a bit of violin, decent singing voice  //  being terrifying, tying knots, knows a bit of piano, literally fucking impeccable with a whip

BAD AT : human emotions  //  self-regulation

TURN  ONS : people who challenge and match him intellectually and idealistically, people who can help him feel ‘alive’ by recognizing the humanity buried in him, people he trusts enough to bully him a little... being tied up, teased, alternatively a little sadism ( as a treat )  //  people who aren’t afraid of her, but respect her, people who could take her in a fight, roughhousing, getting manhandled, being worshipped, leather...

TURN  OFFS : overly-critical people, being touched without reason, willful ignorance, indirectness, codependence  //  weak-willed people, being analyzed, baseless flattery, weak touches, indirectness, codependence, obsessive people

HOBBIES : chess, collecting and watching steel samurai media, collecting and making tea  //  she likes to try new things but nothing has really stuck as a ‘hobby’ yet, um...breaking things

AESTHETIC : black tea, mahogany, and weathered fingers on fountain pens. sharp edges and blinding light. avenging angels, spilled wine. absolution  //  cold steel and iron crowns. a halo of thorns. blizzards. talons and fangs and warm, binding leather. resolution.

QUOTES : “I have something definitive that you lack. And that's the definition of teamwork. It's the power to find the truth.”  //  “The only thing allowed to interrupt me is death itself!”

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC / S : none of these apply! :^)

ALT  FC / S :

OLDER  FC / S :

YOUNGER  FC / S : 

VOICE  CLAIM / S :

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?      

A1 : lmao ace attorney already has like an anime and a movie and multiple stageplays

Q2 :  what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?        

A2 :  Y’ALL KNOW IT - IT’S REALLY GOOD!!

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?  

A3 : every couple of years, my love for ace attorney resurfaces and i replay the trilogy and get really into it again. i also seem to get back into rp every few years when a fandom really grabs me. this time, the stars simply aligned! though i’ve wanted to rp edgeworth for a long time, i never really got around to it...i think being stuck inside thanks to the pandemic helped lmao...

Q4 :  what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?

A4 : god i love miles and franziska so much - they are both archetypes that really grab me, and i really love getting into the headspace of characters who are super vain but can back it up, AND have that delicious bit of vulnerability that really humanizes them. i’m very drawn to that power and perfectionism and weakness - it’s fascinating to explore what makes them strong and what inevitably brings them down. also um they’re both hot...

Q5 :  describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.        

A5 : OOF LMAO miles is SO STUBBORNLY ANAL-RETENTIVE. it can be a real challenge to get him to take risks and speak his mind ( as many of you have seen... ) , which sometimes makes him difficult to write  //  franziska is M E A N hahaha. she really is a cruel motherfucker and honestly if i didn’t soften her at least a little it would’ve been impossible to play with others! it’s a good thing she’s so lovable...

Q6 :  what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?      

A6 : i relate, unfortunately, to their desire for power as a coping mechanism for feeling helpless in their lives. i love that feeling of being on top of shit, even when it’s occasionally been destructive ( but i am WAY more in touch with my emotions than these two omg guys i promise guys guys )

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?        

A7 :  i honestly don’t know if i can answer this LMAO...i feel like i’d react to both of them like callisto yew - just lose my absolute mind the second they open their mouths. um. idk we love each other. :^)

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions with ?  

A8 :  GOD there are so many of you and i’m so grateful for you. @fordfrontalnews ‘s Ford and @genieuslaw​ ‘s Imogen were two of the first characters to take a chance on my Miles and he continues to have really funny and heartwarming interactions with both of them...honestly lin you have become a wonderful friend and it’s been such a joy seeing genie and her relationships grow :^) i can say the very same of @thewrightstuff​ ‘s Phoenix and @cuttingcanine​ ‘s Lang!! it goes without saying that miles and franziska are fucking NUTS over your muses and i get GIDDY whenever we thread. you both push me to explore so many sides of the edge-karma siblings and i always have SO much fun doing it. ilu and i can’t thank you both enough <333 OH and @kodapi​ ‘s Shuuji! you always come up with amazing scenarios and it’s plain to see how much care you put into your work - it blew both our minds how much chemistry miles and shuuji had immediately LMAO. enormous shout-out to @kamipyre​ ‘s Suki and @kagoshou​ ‘s Godot - you both followed me very early on ( THANK YOU ) and blew me tf away with your skills. again, the love, care, and attention you put into your muses astounds me. mika’s godot is so good it’s SCARY and i really look forward to challenging my muses by offering them to him hahaha;;; man, but thank you to all of my writing partners - i wouldn’t have this much fun without you. i’m so grateful to all of you.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?      

A9 : they live rent-free in my head. i feel like i can just sort of summon them and feel excited to explore how they’re feeling. sometimes i’ll go about my day like “how would miles and/or franziska respond to this?” - i think because i relate to a lot of their feelings it makes them even more fun to explore. i love character analysis so much.

Q10 :  how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?      

A10 : TOO LONG....checks my watch....ferre tagged me in this HALF A MONTH AGO. i’m so sorry. i hope you all enjoy :’‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘^)

[hufflepuffhollander]

fire and gasoline (mob!tom series) ch. 1: new vendetta

a/n | wooo buckle in this is a wild ride 😼 and pls share w the world! i’m proud of this one!

synopsis | Your family runs a sect of the british mafia. Tom Holland is the son of the mob leader in your rival gang. You’ve been groomed to be at each other’s throats for as long as you can remember, and a chance run-in after over a decade of feuding and secrecy has you questioning everything you thought you knew.

cw | mob!tom au. enemies to lovers. language, angst, death threats, objectification, sexual tension, and lots of spit. 3.1k words.

read the prologue, join the taglist :)

Roxy’s was your spot- it always had been. The dark alleyway entrance, the smoky air inside that concealed who you truly were, the faceless regulars that just knew to leave you be- it was everything you could want in a local bar. So, instead of somewhere a little cheerier, you chose here; instead of a glimmering club with strobe effects to blind you and music loud enough to burst your eardrums, you decided to spend your birthday where you knew you could melt into the blackness of the night and live mess-free, even if it was just for a few hours.

You had just gotten your second round of drinks with a few friends, your heels clicking from across the room as you wandered over to your table with freshly topped off shot glasses. A brand new, skin-tight black dress paired with electric blue heels adorned you, and the birthday glow radiating across your skin had you looking and feeling like absolutely nothing could bring you down. You were celebrating, you had just landed a major deal with a supplier to your casino; and better yet, you hadn’t heard from the Hollands in weeks. Since their failed attempt at taking out your father during a high-profile event, they had been lying low, full of shame. A recent victory for your family in the never-ending turf war with the Hollands? Not a single mention of Dom or Nikki thwarting your plans in days? Well, that was the best birthday present a girl could ask for. 

You barely had time to feel the gin roll down your throat before the bar door was shoved open, bells tied in a knot overhead chiming ominously as it felt like a tornado had blown in. The room fell quiet, the punkish music on repeat seeming to mute itself. Even the smoke moving through the air was put on pause. Everyone was eyeballing the doorway, where two heavily armed young men stood rigidly; right behind them, a pale, muscular boy with the scent of his own ego radiating off him, a slick smile painted across his face. Every part of your body suddenly felt ice cold.

The boy took off his glasses, the sheer notion that he was wearing wayfarers at night making you groan, and coated the room with his gaze until it landed—and stayed—on you. You tried to avert your attention but couldn’t, as a wave of realization fell over you when he made eye contact. You knew this fuckwad. It was Tom Holland- the son of your rival mob, the boy your father always told you to imagine a target was when learning to sharpshoot...the one who had orchestrated the failed assassination of your dad. Your belly filled with a white-hot fire at the audacity he had to show his face here. Who did he think he was? What the hell was he doing on the East side? And did he know he had just walked into his own execution?

You would’ve seen it through, too, had he not been about to strike you square in the face with a curveball.

“We’re closed.” you heard Roxy spit out, not even bothering to look at the boys as she dried a glass.

“Doesn’t seem like it, babe,” Tom sneered, flashing her an insincere smile and focusing his attention back on you. “And anyway, we aren’t staying; I just came here with a message for the birthday girl.”

You fantasized about a knife appearing on the table in front of you so you could slice the little bitch to shreds for even daring to acknowledge you. But no such luck.

Tom whisked past the bar front, taking his time to saunter over towards your booth. You had bribed your security guard to let you take the night off- he was only there because of your dad’s doing, so he could breathe easier when you were out of his sight. But you hated feeling like a little kid needing to be babysat, especially tonight, when you were turning a year older, and paid him off to get doped up with a friend instead of coming with you. You were kicking yourself for that decision now, watching Tom come up to you without a hint of fear in his dark, shimmering eyes. 

You hadn’t seen him since you were kids, when you had told everyone you were getting married to the cute boy you played with and exchanged candy rings with him in your backyard.

“My my, what an impressive array of barbies,” Tom laughed as he stopped in front of your table, swiping his tongue across his teeth. “any of you pretty things looking to blow this joint?” 

Your few friends looked simultaneously revolted and terrified, and you knew they lived their lives too sugarcoated to witness the interaction you were about to have. 

“Girls, you should leave,” you said, giving them a concerned stare, and it took them less than a second to get up and bolt. Some real friends you had.

You tried to remain composed as you turned your attention to Tom, syllables seething through your gritted teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” 

“Aww, baby, that’s no way to greet an old friend, is it? ‘Coulda least let me wish you a happy birthday,” he sat down on the bench across from you, making you recoil into your seat. “I even have a candle you can blow, if you like.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.”

“Well someone just isn’t feeling very sentimental, hmm? You remember all those years ago, playing hide and go seek in your mansion, holding hands under the dinner table...I think I remember you having it pretty bad for me back then-”

“You must have a death wish, huh?” you cut him off, standing up and advancing towards him, but taking a step back as he stood up to meet you and towered over you menacingly. He smelled like cigar smoke and cherry aftershave and it clouded your thoughts. You’d always said you’d kill him if he ever got this close to you. Why were you faltering now when it mattered most? Your heart couldn’t keep up with your head.

“No, doll. Not tonight, and definitely not in a place like this. But I gotta admit, I was not expecting you to look so fucking good after all these years. Pop had me believing you were some kind of ugly recluse. Makes it extra difficult for me to tell you to give daddy a call before your birthday is over,” his eyes hungrily flicked over you in your dress, making your blood boil. “y’know, tell him you love him.”

“The hell are you talking about?” you reached for your purse where your pistol was lodged, but felt a cold piece of metal touch the back of your head, halting your movements.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” said minion #1, standing behind you with the barrel of his gun nestled into your curled hair. You swallowed nervously and felt your heart rate skyrocket. The bar seemed to have emptied out; it was just you, Tom, and the promise of death caressing your scalp, and you had nowhere to go.

“Hey, now, Harrison, there’s no need for that! y/n and I go way back,” Tom said, motioning for his friend to lower the weapon. Deeply buried flashbacks of child you linked arm in arm with child Tom flicked through your mind, memories you had suppressed long ago.

“Love,” Tom started, advancing towards you again, leaving you nowhere to go if you didn’t want gun grease staining your head. “I’m simply hinting that you may want to get out any last sentiments before we bleed him out on his crisp white sheets tonight.”

Your eyes widened in panic, and your words came out stuttered. “Y-you’re bluffing-”

“You so sure of that, baby?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, leaning his head in so his face was only inches from yours. “You tellin’ me you know he’s safe and sound right now? Or does an itty, bitty part of you think that maybe, when his baby girl and best insurance policy went out for drinks, it left his ass dangling out in the open, just begging to get capped?”

Your nostrils flared and your teeth were clenched so hard together that you were sure they’d break, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. You were stuck in the space of Tom as his cool breath violated your cheeks, suddenly picturing violent images of your family in a pool of blood.

Your eyebrows raised with each syllable you spoke, trying your best to conceal the incredible stress eating at you from the inside. “Get...the fuck...out of my face.”

Tom did something that almost made you combust then, swiping his thumb across the bottom of your chin, grinning, and blowing a smooch at you before finally drawing back. The sound of his lips smacking together lingered in your ears, like he not only had total control of you, but of all the soundwaves in the air.

“Look, I thought I was doing you a favor, giving you the heads up and all...I definitely didn’t have to. So if you wanna be an ungrateful little bitch about it, fine,” he stepped back, sitting down in the booth again and casually propping his feet up on the seat opposite. “don’t call him. I don’t fucking care.”

With a path to the door finally freed, you began to calculate your next move in your head, but Tom seemed to have violated your thoughts, too.

“Nuh-uh,” he tsked, looking off to the door and giving a nod as minion #2 locked it into place and stood with his arms crossed in front of it like the world’s least intimidating bouncer. “You really think we’d come all this way to tell you we’re about to kill daddy and then just let you, what, leave? Run home to his rescue?” he scoffed at the mere thought, and his worker bees in black laughed along with him. Tom gave you an infinitely objectifying once-over. “Like you’d make it that far in those heels.”

“I’d like to see them off,” one of his men said, prompting Tom to violently curse at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about her like that, Harry. She’s not yours.” He was acting like some protective owner of you, which only made you angrier as you felt a dull electricity appear in your stomach.

The alcohol already in your system mixed with the adrenaline coursing through your veins made you feel fiery, out of control, erratic. You weren’t sure if you wanted to lunge at him or cry, the sting of worry pinpricking your eyelids as Tom’s smirk stayed put.

“What do you want?” you resigned, looking down and away from him, leaning against the wall behind you for support. You didn’t want to cave, but you couldn’t help it- you were paralyzed, fight or flight response warring with itself.

Tom shrugged, remaining nonchalant. “Just bragging rights, really,” he picked up an arm and ran his fingers through his tousled hair, his oversized platinum watch catching the light as he did it.

You were able to regain some composure as you responded, remembering who you were, knowing that your family could hold its own. You took a few paces forward in an attempt reclaim your pride. “Slim chance. You’d never be able kill him anyway, you pathetic excuse of a television criminal,” you spat out, seeing Tom’s expression falter just enough to spur you on. “You’re not the only one who knows things, y’know, I’ve learned all about you, too. All bark and no bite. A puppy who acts tough until he gets a paper cut and cowers under the bed.” you could feel your confidence refueling your words, and narrowed your eyes. “Maybe you were intimidating as a kid, but you don’t fucking scare me now, Holland.”

Upon the callout, Tom bolted up from his seat, swiftly pulling a handheld gun out of his belt and backing you up against the wall, barrel aimed at the perfect angle to blaze a clean hole through your head. “You little-”

Thankfully, you had friends on this side of town, and Roxy always had your back.

She tore out of the back with an assault rifle twice the size of her, firing a round of warning shots into the rickety ceiling. It shook Tom’s focus enough for you to make a break for it, running and ducking behind the safety of the bar.

“You better get to leaving before I have to mop you greasy motherfuckers off my floor,” Roxy said in her thick cockney accent, looking as intimidating as you’d ever seen her. Tom sniggered and stayed put.

“You think I’m joking?” she said, aiming at the wooden boards and landing a shot barely an inch from one of his friends’ feet. 

“Jesus-!” they yelped, forcing you to stifle a laugh as you watched the scene unfold.

Three very oversized men walked out from the back of the room with their own weapons of choice to back Roxy up. Seeing they’d been outnumbered, Tom retracted his gun and looked warily at his friends, grouping up to leave the bar. He saw you backed in the corner and took an extra moment to let that cocky sneer find its way back to his face, making sure to remind you why you ran in the first place.

The group walked out unscathed, leaving behind a deafening silence until Roxy looked back at you and shook you from your trance.

“Go home, babes, and make sure your family is okay.”

As you ran outside against your better judgement, eyes locked on your car parked in the alley, an abraisive pair of hands grabbed you from behind and pushed you up against the side of the building. You recognized the sickly sweet smell of cherries and knew Tom wasn’t finished with you.

He had his arm up over your head and the other on your shoulder, evidently taking in all of your features for the first time in years.

“Time did you well, didn’t it? My god, can’t believe my little kid wife grew up to be so pretty,” his eyes sparkled with a twisted, deep desire. “We’d look good together in different circumstances, hm?” His words prompted you to spit in his face.

“In your fucking dreams.”

“Ooh, a feisty little thing. I’d watch that temper of yours, y/n, you’ll make a lot of enemies talking like that,” he said in a low voice, collecting your spit from his cheek and sucking it off of his finger.

“We’re friends forever, darling. I’ll find my way back to you.” he winked at you and sauntered away into the dark. “Say hi to daddy for me.”

Your foot on the gas pedal made an indentation on the floor of the car as you sped home, tears almost blinding you from the road, making every streetlight overhead look like an abstract explosion of color. You left the ignition on as you careened into the gated entrance of your house, kicking your blue heels into the grass and sprinting inside, yelling. “Dad? Mum? Hello???”

You almost ran head first into your parents as they rushed out of the den after hearing your exasperated calls.

“y/n? What the bloody hell is going on?” your mother saw you standing shell-shocked, taking in the fact that they weren’t chopped into pieces, and pulled you into a hug as you broke out into uncontrollable sobs.

“T-they locked me in and told me they were- that you’d be dead when I got home-” you choked out in between tears, unable to calm your breathing. 

Your dad gripped his tumbler of scotch with so much sudden anger that it shattered into his hand. You could see fire in his eyes. “Who? Who told you that?”

You looked up at him and said exactly what he was expecting. “The Hollands. Tom. He- he came into Roxy’s.”

“I’m going to hang that chav from his wimpy little fucking-”

“Hon, please.” your mom said sternly while motioning to you in your sorry state, making your dad’s face a little less violently red. He took a deep, ragged breath.

“Hey, sweet pea, look,” he said, tucking away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face and was clinging to your tear-streaked cheeks. “We’re okay, alright? Tonight is an ordinary night, and our security detail is the best in the city. You stop worrying and go get yourself cleaned up, mum and I have something special we want to give you.” He smiled only to steam off and slam the door to his office, most likely to make a call to get someone, anyone, that may have had a hand in tonight’s events drawn and quartered by dawn.

You came downstairs after a long, boiling hot shower that only made you seethe more at the fact that Tom had been bluffing the whole time. It had clearly just been a fear tactic, probably done for no other reason than to fuck with you on your birthday and ruin your night. He loved crafting little games like that, this being the first time he’d come to play in person—and what made you angriest is that it had worked.

“Honey, we have a gift for you,” your mom said, handing you a silver box that was much heavier than it looked. She and your dad sat on the big sofa in the den, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, open it!” she smiled.

You undid the box, hands still shaking from earlier, and found a shiny, pitch black glock with a silver inscription in its body reading “sweet pea”, the nickname your dad had given you forever ago.

“Uh, wow, I don't know what to say...” you trailed off, picking it up and turning it over in your hand. It became surprisingly weightless, feeling like it was made to fit in your palm.

“It was mine, back in the day,” your dad spoke, seeming wistful. “Had it rebuilt and shined up for my baby girl.”

“Thank you, daddy, I love it,” you said, leaning over to hug your parents. You smiled blankly as they talked to you about the gift and how special it was, nodding at their comments...but you weren’t really listening.

All you could think about was a pair of flushed lips inches from your own, an intoxicating smell lingering in your brain; and just how amazing this gun would feel in your hand right after it had burned a bullet-sized cavity into Tom Holland’s chest.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Earth is Space Australia “The Invasion Continues

You all seemed to really enjoy the burg invasion, so here is some more. I hope you like it and I hope you have a great Monday.

“This planet…. Is a death trap. All our men are dead or…. Or dying…. Please we cannot survive any longer.”

The transmission ended rather abruptly, and the newly instated burg commander slammed his fist into the control panel, “What is happening!”

Around the room his counterparts scurried to avoid his anger.

“There have been reports of animal attacks, poisonings and…. Industrial accidents…. It seems that the human planet is far more dangerous than we originally anticipated. The entire thing is a deathtrap.”

Crew members cowered back against their station as a pincer slammed into the console, “They are squishy flesh-bags you should have no trouble taking them out!”

“The humans are not the problem, it is their planet. It is covered in boiling water, poisonous plants, angry wildlife, and apparently non-military have banded into pack-hunting structures in order to kill us, and it is working very effectively. We assumed that their civilian population would be largely inferior to their military counterparts, but it turns out that the non military humans are just more creative.”

The burg commander’s carapace chattered with his anger, “Then if we cannot win this war, we will hit them where it hurts.”

“Your glory?”

“Bring me the GPS coordinates.”

“The ones that we took from the destroyed human ship.”

The burg rubbed two of his upper legs together, “Exactly those.”

The burg second in command looked very confused, “But, your glory. These….. Are just locations on the planet related to specific human soldiers. Why would we need these?”

The burg commander tapped his leg against the console,

“Cut off the head, and the body will die.”

***

“This morning both local and worldwide governments have reported isolated pockets of alien ivation from all over the world, Let’s head to Jeff who has been traveling the eastern seaboard this morning with details.”

“Thank you Tom, and yes worldwide and local governments have issued a state of emergency. UNSC forces are being deployed as we speak to all locations around the globe where the Burg have been sited. However, this is no independence day Steve, this is something entirely different. While there have been reports about burg sightings, teams of them up to five or six strong in some cases, so far no one has been killed or injured, at least not by a burg anyway.”

“What do you mean Jeff?”

“Well isolated reports have reached us from all across the world of people who have accidentally run into burg remains rather than live soldiers.. Evidence suggests that Crocodiles, bears, wolves, poison ivy, army ants, hippos, kangaroos, and poisonous snakes have all taken up the cause of mother earth, who doesn’t seem particularly pleased about being invaded. And when the burg have made their way into populated city centers, well things haven’t gotten much better. Groups of drunken football fans in eastern Europe and the British isles have been seen roaming the streets of Berlin, Paris, London, Dublin, and Rome in packs . Vatican security forces were even dispatching a number of burg troops in the early hours of the morning.”

The TV screen cut to a grainy video of a dark street which showed a pack of riotous humans with bats, clubs, and broken chairs racing down the street after alien forms shouting insults to the fleeing backs.

The video cut.

“Reports in from Chicago have the local gangs, police forces, and a high school chess club teaming up and beating the invasion back with gunfire, improvised explosives, dogs,  and molotov cocktails of all things.”

“A truly shocking turn of events Jeff, but what are the UNSC saying about protecting us and our families during this time.”

“The UNSC is cautiously optimistic about the outcome of this event, Tom, but even so, they are advising that all Burg sightings be directed to the UNSC invasion hotline, with the number posted on screen right here, and available on all major mobile devices. Civilians are encouraged to avoid the burg if at all possible, though if those are not an option for either you or your family, the CDC has issued reports that human saliva can be fatal to the burg due to a certain enzyme which known to break down burg slime, and the potent cocktail of germs which follow. Your best weapon is to spit at them, barring that, than go right ahead and beat them to death with any available blunt object within reach, or sharp object. Shaolin warriors in china, Samurai enthusiasts in japan on Renaissance goers from america to europe are finding uses for swords and bladed weapons they have not been used for in the history of man. Attack dog saliva is just as useful as human saliva in this case so if Fido wants to get in on the action, your best bet is to let your pooch go ham and serve himself up a plate of space crab.”

“Thank you Jeff, and stay tuned where we will be receiving real time updates on the state of the invasion. But for now will your homeowners insurance cover alien invasions, what you need to know.” Martha, Jim, and Sunny sat on the couch staring at the TV.

Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Better stay inside, Sunny. I’m sure after that there might be some people to gungho to notice you’re a bit too pretty to be a burg.”

“Alien invasion.” Martha muttered, “Do you think we should get the guns ready, just in case.”

The man shrugged, “Couldn’t hurt. Come on Sunny, you know how to use a gun don’t you.”

“I am Chief weapons specialist.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Martha stood, “Grab my shotgun will you, dear, I’m going to go check on Adam.”

He nodded, letting her go. Sunny glanced over her shoulder catching a glimpse into the room through the door where Adam was lying out cold. She was pleased to see he was still asleep, and had slept through most of the night.

Hopefully this alien invasion thing would be over by the time he woke up.

***

Martha appeared at the top of the stairs into the basement, just as Jim and Sunny were coming up the stairs, a gun in each hand.

Martha took one from Sunny and walked into the kitchen, where the three of them sat at the table loading weapons. The doorbell going off nearly startled them out of their seats, but Jim went to go get it.

Sunny listened intently.

“Hey dad, did you see the news this morning?”

“Oh hey David, why don’t you come on inside, good morning to you Jordan, ah and my nephew.” Sunny lifted her head as David, Adam’s older brother, walked into the kitchen with his partner Jordan and their little boy bouncing happily in Jim’s arms.

Martha got up to hug her sun, and the other members of his family.

“Yes we heard about that.”

“Oh, hi sunny. Is Adam here?”

Martha had the group of them take their seats, “he’s resting. Apparently he went and saved the universe just recently, and we are trying to get him to rest. So don’t talk about the whole alien invasion thing too loudly.” 

“Oh, sorry.”

It was just at that moment that the absolutely deafening sound of engines rocked the house rumbling through the floors and shaking the very foundation.

“What in blue blazes.”

Outside the front window a chain of bikers and rednecks doubled up on old rickety dirt bikes raced past the window screaming and brandishing guns. The line seemed to go on forever until they vanished down the road.

“What in the hell.”

A groggy voice just behind them, “What’s going on?”

They all turned to find Adam leaning against the hallway wall rubbing his eyes and looking rather bleery. He was still very pale.

“Just the neighbor kids being louds, now, Go back to bed!”

Adam appeared too groggy to be skeptical and just staggered back to his room.

The group of them looked at each other nervously.

“Sunny and I will stay here and guard the house, you three mind going outside and checking out what is going on.”

***

They had come to cut off the head. All remaining burg forces had been rerouted from the rest of earth, and were now making their way towards the GPS coordinates. They knew they could not overtake earth, but if they couldn’t do that then they had vowed  to destroy the morale of humanity and take away it’s greatest nuisance.

Commander Adam vir would be dead before the sun sak below the horizon.

They entirely expected to show up in surprise, unannounced, but earth had different plans for them. In the space of ten minutes, two of their troops was hit by a minivan, and a third was attacked by a very angry small dog.

Walking along the fence line another burg ran into a very strange creature. It was very small, and sat atop a fence post, its golden eyes fixed on the burg as it lazily flicked it’s tail back and forth. Its ears were drawn back flat against it’s skull. He approached, and the creature hissed. He went to shoo it away with a hand.

And was immediately set upon by a very angry cat intent on ripping his eyes out of his face.

Their luck only worsened as engines rolled up the street, and a group of hungry looking bikers, teamed up with a very gleeful group of rednecks came charging down the street guns blazing. Motorcycles spun out, humans went flying.

Nearby, in the residential houses, families hid in their basements, while others made it to rooftops taking pot shots from their balconies, upper windows, or sometimes form the peak of their rooftops. 

One young man had been very industrious, unbeknownst to his parents, and began chucking lit molotov cocktails out the window of his bedroom. 

His older brother, also a chemistry geek upgraded that to homemade napalm.

From the other end of the street, the highschool girls softball team, and the girl scouts rolled up on hover boards and the backs of bicycles. The  softball team had a mounted automated pitching machine on the back of a wagon, and each girl was equipped with a bat, and a bucket full of balls.

The girl scouts had apparently been preparing since last night, and had water guns full of spit, which was pretty gross but rather effective.

The softball captain took up a mounted position at the back of the wagon, and began pouring the balls into the machine which fired out at about ninety miles an hour give or take five. One burg had his face collapsed in an unlucky turn of events.

Their invitation to the high school baseball team had not gone un-headed, but they had brought with them the chemistry club, and the robotics team, who had downgraded to potato guns for the moment.

The police rocked up a few moments later to create a blockade down the next street and coordinate so now humans got caught in the crossfire .

An unsupervised cheerleader, had made herself rather industrious  pulling up with a vest full of hair products, which people seemed skeptical about until she sprayed a burg right in the eyes, and turned another can into a flamethrower. A group of firemen showed up behind the police, blasting lines of Drev with high powered fire hose 

I took the burg longer than it should have to determine that being lumped into a group wasn’t the best idea and so broke off into smaller units managing to sneak in through the mele and into the neighborhood.

Their luck didn’t get much better.

One of them was nailed in the head by a dirty diaper dropped from an upper window.

Another found himself hounded by the cross country team, who were gleefully using mankind's god-given talent of distance running to run their prey into the ground, hunting like pack humans should before beating them to death with tire irons and crowbars.

Someone’s dad stood on his front porch armed with a fire extinguisher and his tool belt, while another mom had packed her kids neatly into their car seats and was roaming the streets with ACDC blaring through her open windows, mowing over any unsuspecting burg that happened to end up in the street while her teenage daughter offered free ammunition and snacks from the back window.

The UNSC showed up late to the party rolling into scene in jeeps with proper military equipment and drones

By this time the invasion force was dwindling, and only a single group had managed to make it through to their target.

A little house in the center of the suburbs unsuspecting in the warm overhead sun.

They crept forward a few of them moving around back while the others inched around front.

One slid up to the front door, reached out a hand and opened inward.

They were met by the barrel of a shotgun and a very angry blond woman, and her face twisted into a snarl, was the last thing he ever saw.

***

Adam was woken a second time by gunshots. Bolting upright in bed and nearly passing out from the vertigo. He blinked blearily past his fuzzy vision and out the door as his mother backed into the hallway. There was another loud blast and blue icor painted the wall before her.

She backed down the hallway, and he could hear the repeated pump of the shotgun as she backed down the hall.

The burg chasing after.

He tried getting to his feet, but ended up on the floor gripping the bedside table for support.

His mother’s hair flew wildly about her head

“YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY SUN.” Another mob of them was rounding the corner.. It looked like she was going to be over-run.

But a sudden swirl of blue overtook them, and Sunny charged into them dispatching at least four less than as many seconds. A whimper came from the corner, and he turned his head to find Jordan, wide-eyed standing in the corner blocking his son shakily holding a rifle in one hand.

Martha backed up until she was kneeling right before Adam blocking him with her body.

Sunny was backing down the hall now too as the Burg followed.

Jordan took a deep breath and peered around the doorframe, taking one or two shots as sunny flattened herself against the wall, before he ducked back into cover.

It wasn’t looking good.

Not at least until Jim, and David came bursting in one through the front and one through the back mowing down the remaining burg.

Adam found himself flat on his stomach pinned to the floor as his mother through herself over him blocking his body with hers despite how much smaller she was.

And then the gunfire stopped.

“Martha! Martha!”

“We’re ok Jim.”

“Jordan.”

“Right here.” The two of them ran into the room David scooping up Jordan and his son, while Jim ran to make sure his wife was ok.

Outside, boots clattered on the porch, and a group of UNSC soldiers burst into the house sweeping their guns over the blood painted walls. They stopped when they saw Adam sitting at the foot of his bed very much alive, 

“Delta to Alpha one the package is secure.”

Adam was thinking about asking his mother why no one had told him about the alien invasion.

But then he saw her cradling a shotgun covered in burg blood hair in a wild mess and decided that.

Maybe that was a topic for another time. 

[icouldntthinkofabetternamesook]

Study of a Family in Contrast

A girl is born in London, England. She has pale blond hair, blue eyes and fair skin. She is a good girl, a smart girl and her parents love her dearly. She goes to church on Sundays, listens to the preacher and does not pray. She looks through stained glass windows and wonders. She looks at people on the street and wonders. She is accepted to Oxford University on scholarship and graduates with a doctoral degree in Anthropology. Her parents hug her goodbye when she gets on a plane ready to take her to the Valley of the Kings.

A boy is born in Khartoum, Sudan. He has dark black hair, brown eyes and dark skin. He is a good boy, a smart boy and his parents love him dearly. He reads books, listens to music and does not fear. He looks at the buildings around him and wonders. He looks at the people around him and wonders. His parents hug him goodbye, when he gets on a plane ready to take him to Brooklyn College in the United States. Years later, he flies back to Africa, a doctorate in Egyptology taking him to the Valley of the Kings.

Years later a dark haired boy and light haired girl live in a house in LA. Their parents met in the Valley of the Kings. Their father plays the saxophone and they dance around the living room to jazz. Their mother reads to them at night, chapters and passages from her college biology textbook, and they fall asleep curled around each other.

A mother, with blond hair and blue eyes, dies in London, England. A father, with black hair and brown eyes, walks to the hotel they're staying at, but breaks down crying before he can explain. Blue and brown eyes, look on in confusion. “Where’s mommy?”

The funeral is on a hot and sunny LA day. A father, who is no longer a husband, stares ahead and sees nothing. His eyes have run dry from crying. A dark skinned hand curls around a lighter skinned hand, brother and sister trying to find what little solace they can. The little girl sobs and tries to climb further into her brother's chair.

It’s not long after the funeral that they come for her. They had never approved of the man their daughter married, with his dark skin and dark eyes and an accent they had never heard from another mouth, stirring up feelings of wrong and different. There’s a lot of accusations: mental unrest, unsuited for parenthood, traveling too much to look after two kids. They gave many reasons to take her away and none for not also taking their grandson, except for eyes that can only look at skin, seeing dark and light. The reasons aren't good enough to break up a family. There’s lawyers and yelling and more lawyers, and eventually they find a judge who looks at the family and can’t see loving siblings, can’t see the desperation in a father’s eyes, can’t see the hate in the grandparent’s. Instead the judge only sees dark skin, and blue eyes, and other, other, other so a family is torn apart and a girl is flown away to London, England.

….

A young man and a young woman walk on a beach, shoes slowly filling with gritty sand. The young man has dark hair, dark skin and dark eyes, like his father. He wears a black pinstripe suit with a black tie, white shirt and scuffed black loafers. It’s far too hot for the early autumn day. The young woman has light hair, light skin and blue eyes, like her mother. She wears a black thigh length dress, black fishnet stockings, a black leather jacket and combat boots. It’s far too hot for the LA sun. It’s the first time either sibling has seen the other in over ten years.

The funeral let out hours ago, researchers and academics having already finished paying respects to their colleague, a titan in the field of Egyptology. It was another annoyingly sunny funeral for this family. It doesn’t get any easier to bury a parent, but ten years certainly makes a difference. A lot can happen in ten years. A brother and sister can forget how to be siblings. Now they sit on a bench overlooking a vast ocean and silently hope the other one will start talking first.

The girl was never any good at being quiet so she gives up the game first. “I kinda think I want to stay in the states for a bit.” She chances a look at her brother's profile. He hasn’t looked at her, back straight and stern eyes locked on the horizon. “I technically do have dual citizenship, and I just finished getting my degree in theatre. Maybe I should stay in LA, try to make it as a star. British accents are sexy after all.” She pauses for a response. Nothing. She fidgets and ties again. “Maybe I could head to Vegas, it always seemed like a fun place to be. I could take a road trip anywhere I liked.”  A glance is shot at her brother. “Maybe you could come with.” Still nothing “Family road trip or whatever.”

Another moment of silence before, “Stop.”

The young woman jumps, double checking that the voice came from her brother beside her. “What? Stop what?”

It’s like a flood gate had been loosened. “Stop acting like we’re family, like we always see each other over school breaks and holidays and this is just a random run in. I haven't seen you in ten years, I haven't been close to you in ten years, the only reason we’re even on the same continent now is that our father-” His hands clench the bench. He ducks his head to avoid letting the young woman beside him see his tears. He takes a steadying breath and continues, “my father is dead.” He looks up again, more in possession of his feelings. Brown eyes look into blue. “Don’t pretend this is normal or that we’re family, when you weren't there.”

Maybe in another time or place with a different family there would be tears and hugs. But not with this family and not with these people. Instead of feeling sorrow and tenderness, the girl sees red. “I wasn’t there? Do you have any idea how you sound!? I didn’t choose to be taken to London, I was a child, I didn’t have a say! You have no idea what it was like to be me, to be thrust into a new country, a new school, an entirely different culture, completely on my own! Everytime I tried to talk about you or dad I just got these blanks stares, no I got stares of disgust and confusion because everytime someone would make a stupid fucking skin tone comment like that mattered! I didn’t have a mom and my dad just didn’t care enough to keep me and it sucked!” She sucks in a breath then continues yelling. Rage is always easier than vulnerability. “So fuck you for saying I’m not part of this family, I already know that, bully me for trying!”

Neither of the siblings are particularly good at desculation. The brother shoots right back, “Oh I’m so sorry people looked at you like that when you talked about your family! Sorry if I don’t sound super sincere, because people look at me like that every minute of my life! There are some things you were just never going to go through, and being taken in by our-your grandparents has only made it so that you can’t understand what me and dad go through. You weren't there. Everything was different for you. You got to have two people to run to when you had problems, and you got to breeze through life with that chip on your shoulder without fear of being seen as a thug! So no, you don’t just get to show up and pretend everything is hunky-dory, because it’s not and we are not on the same level!”

Both siblings heave in anger, both feeling a gap, a loss of half of themself but not feeling any way to fix it. The brother calms down first, and he decides it would be better to leave than continue the fight. He can’t remember why he even wanted to try. Maybe one last shot though, even if just to absolve him of the responsibility of failure.

“Look here’s my number,” he rips out a page from a leather bound journal, jotting down the numbers. He continues, “maybe, give it a call, maybe don’t.” He hands it to her and stands up. “Have fun in Vegas. I’m flying back to Brooklyn tomorrow and frankly I hope I never see you again.”

He goes to walk away. A hand on his wrist stops him. His sister pulls out an old gum wrapper and jots down a different number. “Mine too. You don’t just get to walk away and put this on me. I’m staying at an AirBNB down on Diamond Street, if you want to swing by. Maybe talk more.” She hands it to him, then gets up herself.

A pair of siblings walk in the opposite direction on a beach, gritty sand filling their shoes. They’re both left with the lingering feeling that their parents would be very sad to look at them and see only strangers.

...

The phone rings showing a number with no contact name. Someone picks up immediately, having already memorized the number.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a pause before the young man continues, “So you decided not to fly back.” A pause. “Where you headed?”

A feminine voice sighs. “Thought I might give Vegas a try, then see what happens. Easy to make it up when it’s just you.”

“Well you see about that….actually my flight back to Brooklyn got cancelled at the last minute.” The flight in fact doesn’t leave for two hours.

The excuse is rather transparent. “Oh really. Well that's a stroke of bad luck.”

“Especially seeing as my hotel reservation expired this morning. I was thinking maybe I could just drive back to the East Coast.”

“Well I’ve always heard that road trips are an American tradition.”

“Yes, seeing as you’re headed that way….” the young man trails off.

His sister picks it up “.....Driver gets to pick the music.”

“Then I get first turn at the wheel, I have no clue what sort of abomination you listen to but smooth jazz is the best for driving.”

“Ugh, I’m going to regret this aren't I,” but the young woman is smiling brightly. Two siblings continue to talk on the phone, hoping to find common ground. After all they’re family.

[arse-crack-thistle]

rwrb winterfest - day 10 - snowflakes

@rwrb-fests

in which firstprince goes to a middle school dance bc i love little alex and henry so much!!

Alex knows tonight is going to be awesome! Normally, he wouldn’t be excited for a lame middle school formal, but he’s going to ask Nora Holleran to slow dance. She’s way too smart for him, but he can make her laugh like no one else can. It sounds like a bird, and being twelve, Alex can’t resist. If she says yes, this Winter Formal nonsense will all be worth it.

Outside, the D.C. air is chilly but bearable. Alex, his lacrosse friends, and their parents stand in front of his house, about to take pictures. His mother adjusts his red striped tie as he fusses with his black curly hair. June waits inside; she’s a high school volunteer tonight—much to Alex’s protests.

He shoos his mother away, slings an arm around his friend Liam, and smiles. His parents ready the camera, and Alex thanks Jesus they never fight in public.

Just behind closed doors when they think he and June aren’t listening.

The white Christmas lights shine behind the boys. His father tells them to focus and takes the picture. It catches Alex laughing at some joke Liam told, his eyes scrunched closed.

•••

Henry wouldn’t go to this thing if his mother weren’t forcing him. She reminds him it’s good practice for his future as he heads out the door to Bea’s car.

He hates these kinds of functions and having to socialize with people he doesn’t know and couldn’t be bothered to know. Because his mother is the British Ambassador, he’s gone to a few, but he doesn’t want a career in public office like the rest of his family. The Mountchristen name means something back home—they’ve had a few MPs, secretaries, and prime ministers—but that’s not Henry. He wants a quiet life away from the fuss.

A life in which he can finally be himself. And tell the truth. The Fox side of him.

Henry misses his father more than ever as Bea drives. Thank god, she’s here and playing Sufjan Stevens to match their moods. If his mother had been appointed any later, Bea would’ve been an ocean away like Philip—not that Henry misses his posh, Oxford brother all that much.

The buttons of Henry’s Burberry suit reflect the soft yellow glow of the streetlights outside. He knows he’s overdressed and that this will be the most expensive suit in the room, but it’s what his mother picked out. Yet another thing his classmates will pick on.

Especially Alex Claremont-Diaz.

Bea wishes him luck, and Henry groans as he gets out of the car. He really doesn’t want to be here.

•••

Alex dances in the center of the gym floor with his buddies to an Imagine Dragons song. Blue and white lights shine down on them. The whole place is covered in fake snow and light blue fabric. Shimmery snowflakes dangle from the ceiling. It’s cheesy, but Alex doesn’t care because he’s having a blast.

He just hasn’t been able to talk to Nora yet.

She’s been huddled with her friends from Tech Club all night. They’re watching something on a dude’s phone, and Alex knows that’s his in. He just has to make himself move in that direction.

An eighth grader, Pez, starts a dance circle and busts a few moves in his fluorescent clothes. Alex watches and cheers him on because everyone loves Pez. But they don’t love his best friend.

Ugh, Alex can’t stand that British guy, Henry. They may not be in the same grade, but they do Model UN together, and everything he says in that dumb accent riles Alex up. Partly because the girls—and some guys—swoon over him, taking some of the spotlight from Alex, and partly because Henry’s existence just irks him.

His perfect blonde hair. His judgmental blue eyes. His rich-boy wardrobe. The fact that he gets the right answer to every question asked of him. And the fact that he rides horses—like, riding outfit and everything.

Alex hates it all.

When a slow song comes on, he goes for Nora. She looks beautiful in a pale pink dress and with her hair done up in a bun. Alex feels stupid in his black church pants and white button-up.

Why didn’t he get June to help him pick out his clothes?

He asks Nora what they’re watching, and she tells him it’s an anime and laughs at something on the screen. After an awkward pause, he stutters out an invitation to dance. Thank Jesus, she says yes.

On the dance floor, he puts his hands on her waist, and she puts hers on his shoulders, and they sway to the music. A disco ball from the center of the gym casts sparkles all over them. This is their moment.

Which is why Alex asks her to go out with him.

Nora won’t meet his eyes, and Alex knows he screwed up. They’re just friends, she tells him.

His stomach hurts.

Alex misread the situation. He could puke right now. Nothing has felt this embarrassing. Not even last year when he dove for a volleyball in P.E., smacked his face on the floor, and chipped a tooth or in second grade when he called his teacher “mom” and the entire class laughed.

Nora comments on June’s dress to move the conversation forward, but Alex just nods. They finish the dance in silence, avoiding eye contact.

Alex’s face is hot and red. He doesn’t want his friends saying anything, so as soon as the song’s over, he thanks Nora and runs out of gym to the bathroom.

•••

For the most part, Henry is ignored by his classmates, which is good. He’s left to sit by himself at one of the tables. Someone sprinkled glitter all over the tablecloth, and flecks cling to his jacket sleeves. The speakers blast him with music, and the whole event is rather annoying, especially when chaperones bother him to ask if he wants anything or to encourage him to dance. Luckily, the high school girl serving punch just gives him a cup and tells him there’s only a few more hours left until they’re free.

Pez checks up on him every once in a while, but he craves a good party wherever he goes and only stays for a few seconds. Henry doesn’t mind. He scrolls on his phone, catching up on social media and eventually settling on a new Wolfstar fanfic. He peaks up from time to time to watch Pez try to impress the punch girl, but his eyes always end up on Alex.

He moves so easily. Whether it’s shaking his hips or fist-pumping to the beat or letting his head fall back in laughter, he just seems to handle everything so carelessly, so happily.

Henry envies him—can’t stand him because of it. There’s a ping in him every time he sees Alex.

Those curls. And soft brown eyes. The undeniable charm.

He walked into a Model UN meeting in glasses once, and Henry had a coughing fit and had to leave the room.

Don’t even get him started on the Spanish.

God, Henry cannot deal with these feelings right now. And he can’t find Alex in the crowd.

He stands up. Maybe he will dance. Maybe if he tries, he can think about something else. His father would want him to try. He’d give him a pep-talk and a hug that smells like his cologne and send Henry on his way. It’s how he convinced him to try polo and ask a girl to dance at his first gala.

Maybe this is good practice. To try to do things on his own.

But as Henry approaches a girl in his English class, someone scoots out their chair and trips him.

And Henry falls face first into a pile of fake snow.

The music still plays, but the students and chaperones are silent as Henry comes up covered in white clumps. It’s worse than the glitter on his suit, and it sticks to the gel in his hair. He feels the very last thing he wants: everyone’s eyes on him.

Henry excuses himself and leaves as fast as he can, stumbling into Pez and shirking him off on the way out.

•••

Alex finally feels cool again. He splashed some water on his face, unbuttoned his top button, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. He looks impossibly chill considering he was just dumped.

Okay, not dumped. But he definitely feels better. Like Rafael Luna, his dad’s best friend. Luna carries himself with a swagger that Alex can’t resist.

After he tousles his hair one last time, Alex walks out of the bathroom, only to find Henry covered in faux snowflakes, looking like the abominable snowman from Monsters Inc. But he’s not cheerful like the yeti. He furiously swipes at his pant legs with one hand and curses at his phone in the other.

“Oh, man! Rough night, huh?” Alex says.

Henry freezes. He sizes up Alex and scowls. “Could you not?” He goes back to his phone, “Bea, just come pick me up when you get this, all right? Please,” and then hangs up.

“You’ve never looked better, honestly. I dig the winter chic vibe,” Alex teases. This is best thing that could’ve happened; his friends aren’t even going to mention the Nora thing when he gets back in the gym. For once, he’s not upset Henry has upstaged him.

Henry mumbles something and shrugs off his suit coat to wipe it down. Snow flurries from his clothing onto the cream linoleum flooring.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘Unbelievable!’ As in, ‘Of course, the universe hates me enough to put you here right now!’” Henry’s face reddens.

Alex can’t believe this guy. He’s practically a prince! What could be wrong with his life? Well, his father’s death, but that was a few years ago. 

Alex googled Henry once or maybe twice—it’s irrelevant—and read about his famous father, who is Alex’s favorite Bond, for sure.

“So you messed up your suit? Big whup. I’m sure you have hundreds just like it. If not, the Fox-Mountchristen estate could probably cover it,” Alex says, crossing his arms. He’s surprised no adults have come to check on Henry. He’s not really sure what happened, but it was probably hilarious and well-deserved.

“You insufferable prick!” Henry shouts and throws the jacket at Alex. Before he can duck, it thwacks his face. He tastes the bitter snow in his mouth.

Alex scrunches it and throws it back. “You dickish, little drama king! You can’t handle the slightest bit of imperfection, can you? Heaven forbid, you’re knocked from your pedestal, and the rest of us mortals crack up!”

He knows this is stupid; he wouldn’t want people laughing at him either, unless it was intentional. In fact, he fled before his charismatic reputation was tarnished. Henry just brings something out of him—not the worst of Alex exactly, but the fight in him. Many a Model UN debates can attest to that.

Henry turns around and slams his fist against the black lockers. He flings the coat to the floor and leans on his forearm. “You haven’t got a clue, Alex,” he says. He sounds tired.

The muffled music from the dance echoes down the hallway. Posters on the walls and lockers advertise the dance, midterm tutoring, and the school-sponsored Spring Break trip to Peru. Alex watches Henry’s back go up and down with his breaths. A toilet flushes, and the sink is run before a girl walks out of the bathroom, past the boys, without a second glance.

Henry is right: Alex doesn’t have a clue. He knows people can hide their home lives. He hasn’t even told Liam about his parents fighting. How he’s heard the word “divorce” from both of them more than once.

And he’s pretty sure losing your father is worse than that; he wouldn’t know what to do without his own, no matter how much time had passed. And then to be moved across the sea to a new school, let alone a new country.

Damn. Alex sucks. And now he has to do something that would’ve made him throw up yesterday.

“Henry,” he says, “I’m sorry.”

•••

Henry can’t believe this—any of it.

Firstly, Alex Claremont-Diaz comes out of the bathroom as if he knew his nemesis was out there and wanted to catch him off-guard with his beautifully disheveled look. Henry blushes at the thought.

Secondly, after a row of which no teacher heard apparently, the aforementioned Alex Claremont-Diaz apologizes for the things he said. “Even though some of it was true,” he clarifies. Henry knows he’s right.

Thirdly, he and the godforsaken Alex Claremont-Diaz have been sitting next to each other on the floor for the past five minutes, just talking. Occasionally, Alex’s arm brushes against his and sends a tingle up his back.

If Henry didn’t know he was gay after consuming hours of Drarry and Wolfstar content, he knows now. As in, he finally realizes why he always looks for Alex in every room and why that boy gets under his skin so easily. 

He definitely cannot go to a lacrosse game, ever. He might die.

The bright bulbs from the bathroom and the blue hue from the gym doors’ windows light the otherwise dim hallway. Henry can make out the Coldplay song coming from the dance and plays the piano chords on his knees. The smell of old sweat and cleaner lingers in the air.

Henry likes that Bea insisted on a normal American education for the two of them and that his mother actually agreed; he just doesn’t enjoy the smells that accompany the experience. Or the horrid cafeteria food, for that matter. He tells Alex as much.

“Totally,” Alex says. “It must’ve been hard moving here. Even if I think you and your uppity family are ridiculous, leaving your home behind would suck for anyone.”

“Yes, it does. But Mum got this great job, which she wasn’t going to take until my grandmother and my brother Philip encouraged her to. ‘You need a fresh start,’ they said. She agreed, though I think her attitude is more about survival rather than actual happiness,” Henry says. “I, for one, would prefer to be home where Dad taught me to play cricket on the back lawn.”

He sighs. Alex doesn’t need to hear this, and giving him more information to use against him or to poke fun of is a disastrous idea. But it does feel good to talk about his father with someone who doesn’t know him and barely knows Henry.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Alex says. “I looked him up once, and he seems pretty cool.”

“He was, yes.” If Henry lets himself get too close to the cliff of grief, he’ll jump off and never be able to recompose himself, so he looks at Alex. “You looked me up?”

Alex sits up straight. “No, no! Your father!”

“You looked me up.” Henry smirks. His stomach flutters, and he doesn’t know what that means.

“I wanted to know what your deal was!” Alex says. “It’s not weird like that! I wasn’t stalking you or whatever.”

Henry laughs hard for the first time in a while. “I can’t believe I have enchanted you this much, Alex. What must I have done to peak your interest? Was it the defeat in during the foreign aid debate?”

“Okay, one, don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” Alex says, holding up a finger to silence Henry’s laughter, which it doesn’t. “And two, you were arguing on the behalf of an imperialist, asshole country. How was I, the humble yet fiery Mexican delegate, supposed to get you off your high horse after you started barking about your country’s economy?”

“Accept that I am the better diplomat.”

“I accept that you’re the bigger—what’s that British word? Wanker.”

Alex shoves him, but Henry shoves him right back. The two laugh together, and as it fades, Henry thinks that maybe they can finally get along—be friends, even. Though, he doesn’t know if that’ll make his heart race more or less when Alex is around.

“Want to go back in there?” Alex asks. “I know you’re still covered in fluff, but it’ll add to the ambiance.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Just then, Henry’s phone rings, and Bea’s name flashes on the screen. When he answers, she tells him she’s outside. Henry looks at Alex. While he has relaxed since the incident because of him, he’s not quite ready to face the rest of the school.

But the hesitation is duly noted and will be thoroughly examined tonight as he tries and fails to fall asleep.

He tells Bea he’ll be out in a minute and hangs up. “My sister’s here,” he says.

Dare Henry say Alex looks a little disappointed? The space between his dark eyebrows crinkles, and he shoves his hands in his pockets after they both stand up.

“Well,” Alex says, “maybe you and I could prepare for the meeting on refugees together when we get back from winter break.”

Henry blinks. “All right. We could do it at mine if you like.”

“Sure. I’m dying to see the palace,” he says. “Let me just get your number.”

After they exchange phone numbers, Henry watches Alex walk back into the gym. Thank god, he isn’t wearing better trousers, or Henry might’ve blushed. Actually, it doesn’t matter; Henry feels his checks get hot.

Outside, real snow dusts the school’s steps. Henry spots Bea’s headlights and walks to the car, enjoying the cool night air. He slips inside as his sister asks what the hell happened.

He knows it’s not the question she meant, but in his head he answers, “Alex Claremont-Diaz.”

[imagineofallkindsxxx]

Eternal Flame- 9/? Kol Mikaelson

Vampires... They're Real

WC: 1675

We all fell asleep in Sams room the following night while watching his favourite comfort movie in his bed. That's the twelfth time I've seen Top Gun now. We were or at least I was woken up by a loud cough coming from the doorway, I opened my eyes to reveal that I fell asleep on the floor last night with the three boys on the bed, and they say chivalry is dead. I looked at the digital clock on Sams bedside cabinet which read 11.03 which made me sit up abruptly looking at the doorway to see Meredith, she must have stayed over as well. I got up searching for my phone to reveal i had 12 texts from Elena, 5 from Ric and a voicemail from the least likely person, Damon Salvatore. I shoved it into my back pocket before heading to the door leaving the trio sleeping peacefully. I walked down the stairs to see Meredith, Harry, and Lucy. Sams parents.

"I am so sorry for your loss Mr. and Mrs. Fell. You too Meredith." I told them sincerely upset about the death of Tobias Fell. "Do they know the cause of death?" I asked the trio which Lucy replied.

"Animal attack." Strained voice probably from crying and comforting her husband.

Animal attack.

Vampires.

"That's terrible." I said still feeling bad for them especially Meredith and Harry but still genuinely hoping that it was a tomb vampire and not Stefan. "Again, I'm sorry for your loss." This created a weak smile from Lucy and a nod from Meredith, Harry staring into space. I heard a honk from outside that sounded like a certain Salvatores vintage car. "That's my ride."

"I'll show you out," Meredith got out standing up heading towards the door I've been going in and out since freshman year.

"Can you tell Sam to text me whenever he wants. I'll be free for him." She nodded confirming she'll pass on the message to my best friend. I walked out and saw the blue vehicle with a raven-haired vampire driver making me nearly turn back and go back to Sam. I walked towards him and got into the car. I put the seatbelt on then he sped away.

"Do you not answer your texts?" He questioned in that classic Damon tone. I rolled my eyes.

"When a family member of my best friends has been killed via 'animal attack' I tend to stick by him" I replied snarkily making him roll his eyes. "Well, what's with the texts and calls?" It was his time to show off his 'iconic' smirk.

"Well, I assume you're aware of the little ghost problem we had last night." I hummed in agreement my mind going back to the conversation i had with my deceased aunt "Well the ghost of Mason Lockwood gave me a visit and showed me something very interesting in the Lockwood cellar" he told me stretching the very before stopping not giving me any hints of what it may be.

"Well? What is it?" I asked annoyed at the vampire already, two minutes must be a record.

"Patience is a virtue, middle Gilbert" making me roll my eyes for what seems to be the tenth time in three minutes. We sat in silence on the way to the Lockwood cellar before getting out the car and walking a good five minutes "Could you be any slower?" Damon asked annoyed by my speed making me contemplate going slower just to annoy him.

"I can try." He turned back and glared at me we walked into the cellar seeing my sister and Ric who must have gotten here not long before us as they were walking down the hidden tunnel in the cellar. Damon put a finger to his month as if be quiet, i narrowed my eyes but nevertheless I went behind him quiet to see where this is going. I overheard Ric saying to Elena.

"Careful where you shine that thing. Bats hate the light."

"Wait, what?" Elena replied making me keep a laugh in when Damon comes down the tunnel standing behind her whispers.

"Elena!" Which she turns around to see the blue-eyed vampire "Boo!" scaring the petit brunette as I see he jump with fright.

"Ah, god Damon!" She yelled making me smile before pushing past him to stand next to Ric.

"Scaredy-cat!" He goads.

"Just ignore him. That's what I do." Ric advises Elena and me rolling his eyes.

"To be fair Ric," he looked at me while I was looking at the floor expecting me to actually defend a Salvatore "it is quite hard at times, his voice is just that annoying. Its impossible" making the doppelganger and hunter smirk at the scowl on the vampires' face.

"Your real brave when your somewhere I can't reach you" I gave him a smirk in retaliation to the statement.

"So, you really can't get in?" my twin asks the annoyed creature.

"No. Seems like even the ancient Lockwoods were anti-vampire." Damon told the elder Gilbert.

"Wonder why?" I sarcastically muttered making him give me a glare which I ignored too busy trying not to fall in the dark and rough terrain.

"What do you mean ancient?" Elena questions oblivious to the comment made towards the Salvatore and his species. His eyes go back to my sister, he gestured in a way to carry on walking.

"See for yourself." The four of us carrying on the walk with two flashlights being our only source of light. "Well, this is as far as I go" Damon states letting the two gilbert sisters and their hunter guardian carry on walking. Elena shines her flashlight on the wall in front of us to show drawings of all kinds seemingly to be Viking runic.

"What is all this?" my sister asks from beside me while I somehow read some of the writing.

"Well as far as I can tell, it's a story." Ric begins "In simple, archaeological terms, it's a really, really old story" he points at a drawing of what is the moon cycle, I think? "That right there, is the moon cycle" after this he points at another drawing on the wall "a man, a wolf." How did I know that was moon cycle?

"A werewolf" Elena says looking mesmerized by the drawings.

"Yeah, it's the 'Lockwood Diaries: Pictionary-Style'" Damon pitches in with an attempt at humor of the possibly huge discovery in front of us.

"But the Lockwoods didn't settle here until the 1860's with the rest of the founders. Who drew these? When were they drawn?" I asked the historian in which he shared a look with the vampire.

"A long time ago" Ric vaguely told me.

"How long?" My sister said backing me up by questioning the hunter as well.

"Long. It gets better. Show them, Ric." Damon once again butted in.

"Names. They're not native. They're written in-"

"Runic, a Viking script" I cut him off making his look at me with eyebrows raised, I shrugged my shoulders.

"Vikings?" my sister said not understand that Vikings were in Mystic Falls.

"This name here, I translated it and it reads Niklaus" Ric tells us.

"Klaus"

"And Elijah... and Rebekah" pointing towards the names on the wall flashing at a group of names one catching my eye that I'm barely hearing anything, it was only three letters. it was next to Rebekahs making me think that maybe it was another Mikaelson. I was in a weird kind of daze, the only thing breaking me out of the trance I was in while looking at the name was.

"Mikael." That makes me snap my head towards the teacher.

"Mikael? Their dad?" I questioned with a nod of confirmation from Ric.

"Mikael, as in, the vampire hunter who knows how to kill Klaus?" My sister asked all of us.

"Yep. I now like to call him 'Papa Original'" Damon says humor filling his voice while Ric takes pictures of the cave wall.

To break the tension my phone rang to see Sam was texting me,

'Meet me at our place in ten mins?'

I furrow my eyebrows wondering what could be so important that couldn't be said over the phone but sent back a little.

'Sure'.

"Hate to break this lovely revelation short but I have somewhere to be, friend to console. You know the drill." indicating I'm going to speak to Sam which Elena nods in reassurance.

"Yeah go, be with him. Do you need a ride to his place?" She asks me but I shook my head.

"I can walk it but thanks Lena" walking out of the cave missing the look of borderline shock on her face at the nickname I've barely called her since the accident. I walk out of the old Lockwood cellar northwest for a few minutes before reaching a little lake that is usually used for parties but when quiet a peaceful place where Sam and I come to regularly when we need to get away from everything. When I'm there I already see the brunette sitting on a rock.

"Hey, Sam." He turns around while sitting to see me, he turns back around facing the lake with a serious expression on his pale face. "Are you okay? Stupid question. What can I do to help?" I asked reprimanding myself for asking such a stupid question at the beginning. I sat down next to him on the same rock. He gave me a small smile.

"You can keep a secret right?" He asked in all serious.

"Of course," I told him offhandedly.

"No Alexandra. I'm being deadly serious, what I'm about to tell you... I'm not supposed to tell anyone. You can't tell anyone." he told me turning around looking me in dead in the eye. I turned around facing him curious yet worried about my grieving friend.

"Sam, you can tell me anything. I swear on my parents grave I won't tell anyone." I sincerely swore to him.

"It's about" he stopped himself breathing in before sharing

"Vampires... They're real."

********************************************************

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content episode wise in this but I thought I'd give you an idea of how Sam is going to be a recurring maybe even main character and the rest of the episode plus a bit of Sam drama is part two of the episode.

As usual let me know of any grammar, spelling mistakes or British slang/spelling.

Please comment or vote to let me know I'm doing a decent job. I need validation haha.

Thank you for reading lovelies xxx

[hhoriginalworks]

if you're ever ready | f.w

warnings: small curse

The brittle January air was enough to make the faces of children red while chasing after one another, and it was certainly enough to make any sane person struggle to leave their warm bed.

You were perfectly sane- at least, in the sense that with the cold weather, you found yourself getting to the underground later and rushing out the door quicker. And, while the cool breezes were a large reason you ended up scolded early in the morning by your boss, there was also the fact you still had to remind yourself of small things. You had to remind yourself to not put on your velvet robes, to leave your wand in the bottom drawer of your dress, and mostly, to blend in.

It wasn't necessarily something you would consider unnatural for you- hiding the magical part of your life away neatly in the back of your closet and folded gently underneath your summer clothes. No, in fact, it was something you had mastered as a kid, but simply in reverse. With two muggleborn parents, you were given the lecture about hiding the muggle side of you at a very young age. You spent most of your summers playing futbol and attending summer school to learn about natural science and physics. Then, when September came around, you packed away your dreams to be an archeologist and forgot that part of your life. You supposed there was irony in it all.

Today was another day of rushing out the door and attempting to find some sort of routine in a world you hadn't been apart of in a long time. "Oh, watch out," you blurted, the words, unfortunately, coming out faster than you could move out of the way.

"Sorry- I didn't see you," the man apologized, his brown eyes scanning you for any injuries. There was something uncanny about him- you weren't entirely sure if it was his face, which was scattered with freckles in the same way the night sky was scattered with stars, or it was his unruly red hair. "I'm Fred, um, do we know each other?"

You snapped out of your mindless observation of the redhead, blushing furiously and checking your watch. "I'm sorry, sir, I have to make the 10:15 tour at the British Museum. I'd give you a galleon for the coffee stain, but I'm really late," you blabbered on, the wizarding phrase slipping out before you could stop yourself. "Send me your dry-cleaning bill, will you? Just give it to Sam at the museum- he'll find me. Thanks."

You left quicker than Fred could ask your name, but something about you made him think he already knew it. "Galleon," Fred mumbled to himself, running his calloused thumb over the golden coin that sat at the bottom of his pocket. "She's got to be a witch, but she's going to a muggle museum."

Fred stood in the middle of the crowded streets, his mind reeling and his feet leading back towards the way he came. By the time Fred had shaken the thoughts about you out of his mind, he found himself in front of a building that his dad used to take him often. The British Museum, a place of history and culture, at least, that's what his dad used to say before getting distracted by the ticket printer.

"Hello, um, am I too late for the 10:15 tour?" Fred asked, shifting his weight as the elderly man looked down at him from the help desk. "I am catching up with an old friend."

"For which exhibit, sir?"

Fred glances at the growing line behind him before leaning in closer to the elderly man. "Actually, sir, I- I ran into this girl on the street and she was rushing to get here after she spilled coffee on me. I don't really know what sort of tour she was talking about, but she mentioned Sam."

"Fred?" Fred turned towards the familiar voice, only to come face-to-face with you. Fred scanned you, noticing your oversized hoodie was replaced with the black blazer and a white button-up. "Fred? If you're here to drop off your vest, I can take it after my tour. Sam, I'll take him on my 10:15 tour."

"Oh, you're Sam, well, thanks," Fred beamed, hurrying away to catch up with you. "Your tour? You hardly mentioned that you were going to be my lovely tour guide of the, erm, what are we touring?"

"You didn't mention uprooting your entire day to take my tour," you joked, matching Fred's lighthearted tone. "We are touring the exhibits that display history's underlying tones of love and passion. It's actually pretty interesting- have you been here before?"

Fred thought back to when his dad used to take him and his siblings out one at a time to muggle museums to give his mum a break and to have father-son time.  "Is this your way of asking if I come here a lot? Because I imagine employee-visitor flirting is frown upon," Fred teased, clutching his hands behind his back. "But, I'll make an exception for you."

"Actually, for this tour, it is encouraged," you laughed, a shot of confidence running through your body. "I don't think I mentioned by name- I'm y/n y/l/n."

Fred smiled, racking his mind to see if there was anything familiar about your name. "So, where did you go to secondary school?"

"Nope," you replied, straightening your uniform as the two of you neared where the start of the tour was. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Oh, um, yeah, I have- my dad stopped taking me after I almost got the two of us banned," Fred replied hurriedly, eying the crowd of visitors and tourists waiting on the tour to start. "Now, it's your turn to answer."

"Can't, love, I'm on the clock now." You shot the boy a wink and stepped in front of the small crowd, reciting your scripted welcome before leading the group towards the first exhibit.

Fred shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about you that he couldn't get enough of. Fred faded towards the back of the crowd, watching you in a memorized fashion as you talked about the exhibit with a familiar spark in your eyes. "Y/N from third-year muggle studies," Fred mumbled to himself, suddenly remember how you used to be the first person to raise your hand and present your essays with excitement that matched his dad's.

The tour went quickly from there, ending in a room filled with vintage coins and various paper notes. "This is the last stop on our tour, and I encourage you to check out our numerous other exhibits. Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoyed this tour," you breathed, your mouth dry from answering the endless questions from a young girl and her sister. "Don't forget to check out the World War I coin with an engraving from Frank to Nellie. Thanks again!"

Fred slowly made his way back to your side, a knowing smile still on his lips. "So, your turn, y/n. Where did you go for secondary school?"

"A boarding school in Scotland- hardly anything famous," you replied naturally, the answer still the same as when your muggle friends asked you over the summer. "My mum and dad went there, so they practically insisted."

"Oh, interesting, I went to a school in Scotland, too," Fred beamed. "What house were you?"

"Oh, I was in- wait, what?"

"I was a Gryffindor, but I always thought I would be such a good Ravenclaw. I'm the genius of the family, except maybe Perce, but he was more of a Slytherin," Fred rambled on, a smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. "You strike me as a Ravenclaw, or perhaps, Hufflepuff. I know you aren't a Slytherin- you haven't got the look to you."

You let out a breath you hadn't been knowingly holding. It was rare nowadays you came across another wizard or witch- you made sure it was a rare occasion. "I'm sorry, Fred, I have to go get ready for my next tour," you managed to say, moving away from Fred when he grabbed onto your wrist gently.

"I was joking about the Slytherin thing," Fred spoke up, hurt written on his face as you pulled away from him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not what you think I am- not anymore," you whispered before maneuvering your way through the crowd, losing the redhead and allowing yourself to take a moment to stop and breathe.

However, Fred Weasley was a hard man to get away from. With a head above the crowd and determination that wasn't to match, Fred Weasley was quick to figure out where you went. And, like a persistent puppy, he found himself following not far behind.

"Are you okay?" Fred finally asked after lurking a safe distance away. A part of him wanted to give you the space that you clearly needed, but another part of him was curious about what you said. "I was going to leave, but I wanted to make sure you were okay first."

You nodded your head, his words surprisingly soothing and more gentle than you remember. "Fred, I'm not a witch, so whatever you thought was happening between us isn't happening," you blurted, the words you wanted to say mixing amongst each other as you spoke. "What I mean is- I don't know. I just- damn it, I'm such an idiot. You were wearing an orange vest and the ugliest pair of matching dress shoes- how could I not know?"

Fred leaned against the way, close enough you could see him out of your peripheral vision if you tried (you did). "I happen to like these shoes- George, my twin, has a matching pair in green. Now those are ugly."

You stifled a laugh, reminding yourself that whatever was happening was a bad idea. "I'm a muggle- just so you know."

"You weren't."

"But I am now."

"Well, I'm a wizard- just so you know," Fred quipped, matching your tone.

"You always were," you mimicked, attempting to keep the corners of your mouth turned down.

"And I am now- wait, that doesn't work, does it?" Fred chuckled, running a  pale hand through his messy hair. You hated to admit it, but it was a handsome move, and you couldn't help but swoon a little.

"No, it doesn't. I like you, Fred, which is crazy since I met you this morning, but it's true-"

"Great, y/n, because I like you too," Fred interrupted, knowing that the dreaded 'but' was bound to follow if he didn't. "Well, since that is all that is needed to be said, I'll pick you up from your place at-"

It was your turn to interrupt, "I'm not going out with you- I don't want to get sucked back into the world of magic. I have kept away from it all for two years, and I don't plan on going back now, or maybe even ever."

"Maybe?"

You shook your head at the redhead's hopeful look, knowing that he wasn't getting what you were trying to hint at. "I don't like magic anymore, Fred. I don't think I ever really liked magic, but the-the war. Muggles have horrific wars, but I never saw it up close like I did at the Battle of Hogwarts. I-I don't think my place is there anymore."

"You fought?" Fred asked the question more to himself than to you, trying to remember the hundreds of grieving faces that rested in the Great Hall at the end of it all.

"I did, and I killed. I killed, Fred. I watched the light leave their eyes, and I justified it by saying they would've done it to me-"

"They would've- you did what you had to do."

"But I didn't want to- I wanted to be twenty. I wanted to go to pubs and lie to bartenders that I was old enough to drink. I wanted to travel. I wanted to dance with my friends to music at 3 am. I didn't want to fight for my life. Fred, you grew up with magic, right?"

Fred looked down at his hand, processing your words. His family was so close to Harry that he never really thought about the years of youth he lost to thinking about the war. Of course, he had his business, which revolved around bringing brightness to such a dark time, but still he never just enjoyed being young once he joined the order. "Yeah, I'm a pureblood- not that it matters to me."

You smiled and let your fingers brush against his. "I grew up with two muggleborn parents, and I got to live an entirely different life when I wasn't at Hogwarts. You've always had magic, and I've always had another place to go if I didn't want magic. I don't want magic, Fred. I don't want to go back to using magic for mundane purposes after I did horrible things with it."

"But what happened- what you did- shouldn't taint something that is a part of you. Magic isn't good or bad- it's just there to be used," Fred urged, grabbing your hand. "Let me take you out on one date just to see where things go, and I promise there'll be no magic."

"Fred, I know that whatever we do, I'll just fall for you," you breathed slowly, letting the pads of his fingers tickle the back of your hand. "I can't make you give up magic, Fred. And, right now, I'm not willing to give up this life to be with you. I'm sorry."

Fred was sorry too, his hand releasing yours. He didn't know what to expect walking into the museum, but it certainly wasn't this. He wanted to be mad at you for not even trying to see where things go, but he couldn't. He knew that if it came down to it- he wouldn't give up magic to be with you. So, he smiled the exact same smile he gave you that morning, and he left.

And, when he left, you were left with nothing but the ghost of his touch and a small paper business card with the words, 'if you're ever ready.'

[star-duck]

The Case Files of Jeweler Richard - Book 6 chapter 4 summary

I know other people are doing summaries but there are scenes I want to write down so that I can remember them fondly, so here goes! Please notify me if I get things wrong and such, since I mostly write this from memory (I read this yesterday) while glancing at the book sometimes. Also I sure hope this sounds coherent, the original text is very graceful...

The events in this chapter actually starts at the end of the same day chapter 3 took place. Seigi's biological dad finds him as Seigi is walking home from Etranger. (Unfortunately I don't remember his name, Seigi doesn't refer to him by name, and I also refuse to check his name, so we'll stick with "dad" here) He starts trying to talk sweetly to Seigi, telling him how he managed to know Seigi's whereabouts.

During the conversation, Seigi has flashbacks on dad being abusive in the past and how he barely paid for damages to Hiromi after they divorced. Dad later explained that his mom (Seigi's grandma) died, and thus he lost his financial support and eventually lost his home. He implies strongly that he wants Seigi's help for food and shelter, while also badmouthing Hiromi. The exchange is honestly so raw and frustrating and I hope someone translates this in all it's.... glory. Seigi is extremely upset and is contemplating to just hit him, but anyway dad decides to leave after the conversation goes nowhere.

Also scattered in the chapter is that Hiromi divorced dad during Seigi's elementary school time, then she married Tanaka-san (the current husband) during the same period of time. Thanks to this and the ex being abusive, Seigi had to move schools multiple times.

Seigi gets stressed about the ordeal, thinking that he probably needs to skip work tomorrow since he thinks dad will come back. After he informs Richard through email, Richard asks if everything is alright and Seigi lies, saying that he just has events related to job-seeking and school works.

The next day, after spending his time outside, Seigi goes home only to be welcomed by dad in front of his apartment. Seigi walks away while dad still keeps following him and talking to him, then Seigi decides to walk in a hardware store. He buys something, walks out, and comes this scene (rough translation):

(Seigi) "Have you ever thought of dying?"

(Dad) "Dying? Why are you saying such a scary thing?"

"I have"

"Uh, let's stop talking about this. It's weird. Unpleasant."

"When I was in elementary school, I thought of killing you and then dying myself."

And now, just a little, I wish I really did just that.

In this peaceful Japan, even though there are a lot of violence happening every year, people can still buy a knife in hardware stores. Once this guy realizes that what I just bought was a sharp object, he takes a step back.

"Seigi, joking like that isn't good. You'll get involved with the cops."

"Do you want to see if this is a joke or not?"

"Why do you say things like that? I love you so much. That's why I went all the way to look for you, why don't you get it? I worked so hard to find you. Are you heartless now? Have you become a bad kid?"

"Let's decide here whether you'd leave or not. I'll give you 30 seconds."

Dad turns completely pale, and Seigi starts counting. Dad keeps trying to reach out to him but Seigi doesn't budge, so he eventually leaves.

The next day, Seigi is completely distraught. Tanimoto greets him, notices that Seigi isn't well and looks upset, then asks if it's better if she just leaves him alone, and does just that.

Seigi starts thinking of quitting Etranger, since he's afraid Richard will also get bothered by stalker dad, especially knowing that Richard is a british nobleman who treats Seigi to 3000yen+ dinners weekly. He makes up his mind and decides that the coming saturday will be the last time he works at Etranger, and starts making lots of pudding.

Shaul sends an email to Seigi, saying that Richard is worried of him so he's asking if everything is fine. Seigi's reply is a lie, once again. Seigi learned that dad apparently tried to ask for Seigi's key to the apartment's landlord, but since he couldn't prove himself he wasn't given anything.

Trivial stuff but Seigi starts thinking about how both Tanimoto and Richard are like angels to him. While Tanimoto is an angel that softly flies on the sky, Richard is an angel who despite having wings, he still walks firmly on the earth.

The next day Seigi is woken up by dad waiting in front of his apartment. He brings a piece of "gem" that looks like it's bought from a 100 yen shop. They talk for a bit, Seigi can't handle it anymore and throws a 1000 yen bill through the gap of his still-locked door. The dad grabs the money, complains that it's not enough, but eventually leaves. Seigi starts planning to move to weekly rental apartments, and throughout the week the dad has resorted to calling Seigi instead of physically visiting him. Then, Saturday comes.

The day in Etranger goes normally and smoothly, which is a nice surprise to Seigi. He's obviously emotionally very tired and worried, but he tries to appear cheerful because it's his last day. At the end of the day, he finally tells Richard that he wants to quit his job, effective tomorrow. Richard just says yes, and then invites him for a "goodbye dinner", though he hates saying that, so he just says that he wants to make good memories during the dinner.

Richard invites him to the high end hotel they went that other time in the case with Hase-senpai. They go to a restaurant high up (i think it's a rooftop restaurant but i'm not super sure) and apparently Richard has ordered set menu, so all they have to do is sit and wait for orders to come. After finishing, Richard brings him to the hotel's bar, both ends up ordering non-alcohol coctails, and Richard offers Seigi some high-end chocolate with liquor filling. Then comes this scene:

(Seigi) "This is so good, it feels like a waste to eat it..."

(Richard) "I think so too"

"Hn?"

"I don't want to.."

"Did you say something?"

"I don't want to send you home"

Seigi double takes and reconfirms that Richard did just say that to him, and no one else around. Richard confirms and pulls out a hotel card key, inviting him, light as if he's just asking Seigi to get into the car as usual. Seigi is determined to make today a good last part-time job day, so he will never say no regardless of what Richard says. All Seigi replies is "what floor?" but Richard doesn't answer.

Once they reach the right floor, Richard hands Seigi the card and Seigi proceeds to open the door. Inside, Jeffrey is waiting, yelling surprise, and Seigi is so surprised he's about to run away. Richard leads him back into the room and makes him sit on a chair. By the way the hotel room is the super high end one with multiple rooms and stuff, not the standard single room.

Jeffrey starts telling Seigi about how since he's been "legally" stalking Seigi for... a long time.... , he finds out about the stalker dad problem and informs Richard. Richard then asks Seigi why Seigi won't tell him anything. Seigi retaliates and says that it's not Richard's business, it's not like Richard wants to hear anything bad like that, etc. Then Richard says that he likes Seigi so, so much, that it makes him angry. At this point Jeffrey leaves the room for a bit so there's just the two of them.

At first Seigi denies Richard's concerns, saying that he might have been influenced by his dad more than Richard would ever know. As a kid Seigi looked in libraries about domestic abuse, and found a book that mentions that statistically, boys who witness domestic violence in their homes have a higher chance of growing up to be an abusive partner themselves. Seigi then recalls how sometimes as a kid he ended up punching and destroying things, how Hiromi enrolled him to learn karate to release the steam and learn how punches and kicks actually hurt. However he still thinks that he has the potential to be violent, and he doesn't want Richard to see that.

Richard gently tells Seigi that all Seigi does is being prejudiced towards himself, and that his prejudice means he's also prejudiced towards every other kid who are also victims of domestic violence. He adds that someone who isn't kind to themselves won't be able to be kind to others as well. Richard also thinks the reason Seigi never gets tired of Richard's looks is because he always sees Richard from afar, refusing to get closer. He encourages Seigi to seek help when he has problems, not just to Richard, but to anyone else.

At one point Richard kneels in front of Seigi who's sitting on a chair, Seigi thinks of how it's like if an adult is trying to comfort a child. Then he starts crying (again). Then Richard tells Seigi to answer the phone. He does, and the dad says he's waiting near Seigi's apartment. Seigi's supposed to go there alone, but apparently the game plan between the two brothers is that Richard is going to accompany Seigi. Jeffrey jokes that Richard might look slender when clothed, but if you see him naked he has pretty well built muscles, so everything should be fine if ever a brawl or anything happens. Richard shushes him.

Richard and Seigi ride on the usual Jaguar to the dad's location. Inside the car, Richard asks why Seigi was so gullible in accepting his invitation to a hotel room, he was sure that Seigi would say no to that. Seigi just says that it's because he trusts him. If Tanimoto ever tells Seigi she wants to punch him, Seigi will let that happen too.

They arrive, Richard stops the car, and encourages Seigi who has made up his determination, calling him a "good boy". Seigi notices that's usually a line used for dogs, but he shrugs it off. However, Richard ends up being the only one who walks out of the car and meets dad. Dad acts confrontational in front of Richard, until Nakata-san (Seigi's now-dad and Hiromi's current husband) appears and grabs shitty dad's shoulder.

Nakata-san confronts shitty dad, asking him why he's bothering his son, if he actually knows anything about Seigi, what he likes, what he's good at, etc. Shitty dad panics and runs away, leaving Nakata-san, Richard, and Seigi there. Seigi walks out of the car stunned, trying not to cry (for the nth time tonight), thinking about how happy it is that Nakata-san comes to help him. The dad and son hugs tightly.

Nakata-san explains that he comes because Hiromi and Richard contacted him about the incident. As it turns out, after the events in England, Richard contacted the couple to apologize about involving their son to all his mess. Nakata-san also apologizes that he couldn't come to Seigi's coming-of-age ceremony, and wants to make sure that he can be here today.... which is Seigi's birthday. He forgot about that because he was panicking.

The couple prepared a birthday present they ordered from Etranger. It's a pair of cufflinks made of tanzanite. Tanzanite is a pretty fragile stone, and by putting them as cufflinks, they want to make Seigi remember to take time to think before leaping into action and to stop him if ever he's about to get violent (though that isn't gonna happen, we all know he's a good boy!) so that the stone doesn't break. The designer of the cufflinks is Maya, the lady from Book 5 chapter 1 who told Seigi he had pretty hands (lol). If Seigi breaks the cufflinks, Maya will absolutely raise hell over it, or so Richard says.

Nakata-san says bye to our two boys because he has to go back to Hiromi's side as she's also pretty stressed from the whole ordeal, telling Richard to take care of Seigi. They both drive back to the hotel, Richard tells Seigi that Jeffrey will help sort things out as Seigi will need to temporarily move around to avoid stalker dad. Seigi asks why they're willing to go this far for him. Richard answers that the family owes Seigi a lot. Jeffrey also previously told Richard that if anything happens to Seigi, Henry will never forgive him, so Richard wants Seigi to just think of Jeffrey as a talking wallet.

Seigi asks Richard to let him go back working in Etranger, and of course Richard says yes. They then turn to go eat sweets somewhere.

[lilacmoon83]

Mysterious Fathoms Below

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 10: Peril in Portland

Their cross country trip so far was a rousing success. They had hit many lakes and beaches along the way and the morning after they arrived in Portland, Snow and David took them to a secluded beach they had found a couple hours from the city. It was their first time seeing the Pacific ocean and they were all very excited. After spending the day together as a family, they headed back to Portland and to a park that was near the office David would be working.

Snow kissed him tenderly, as they prepared to say goodbye for a while.

"Go on...we'll be fine, but we'll miss you," Snow assured him.

"I'll miss you too," he said, as he hugged the kids and headed for the office. Snow sat back down with her book, while the kids ran around the park and Emma joined her.

"Hey Mom...can I go get some snacks for me and the squirts?" Emma asked. Snow noticed that there was a convenience store down the block and nodded.

"Okay...but be careful and try to get more than just sugar laden stuff," Snow said, as she handed her some money and shifted the baby in her lap. Emma smiled and headed down the block, while her brothers and sisters continued to play. Jackson whimpered a little and she dug his teething ring out of his back.

"Oh that tooth is giving you trouble, isn't it baby," she cooed, as he watched onto the teething ring.

"Hey Mom...shouldn't Emmy be back by now?" Ben asked. He was right and she started to get concerned.

"Go round up the twins and Astrid. We can all walk down there together," she said. Ben did as she asked and she put Jackson and Astrid in the double stroller, as they left the park together.

Emma browsed the snack aisle and put a few things in her basket. She smiled, as she picked out some gummy bears. Astrid loved gummy bears. She looked ahead and noticed a boy stuffing a box of pop-tarts in his jacket. He turned and saw that she saw what he was doing, but they were both stunned.

"Bae?" she asked in disbelief.

"Emma...how are you here?" he asked.

"Nevermind that...I'll get that for you," she replied, as she grabbed the box from him.

"You don't have to do that," he insisted.

"Do you have any idea how long me and my family have been looking for you?" she asked.

"Why?" he asked, as she picked up a few other things and waited, as she paid for them. Once she took the sack, they exited the store and she handed him the box. He tore open a package and started eating hungrily.

"Because...we thought of you as family and wanted to help you," Emma replied.

"No...you want me to go back to Storybrooke with you and to my Dad!" he cried.

"Would that be so bad?" she asked.

"Yes! Do you know what he did?" he asked.

"Yes...we have the book, remember?" she replied.

"He abandoned me!" Neal insisted.

"And then made sure the curse happened so he could find you," Emma replied.

"And ruined a bunch of people's lives in the process!" he cried.

"But he told my parents that he knew he made a mistake! I mean, doesn't he deserve a second chance?" Emma asked. He was about to retort when two men approached them.

"Not a peep there lass and start moving," the man said, as he showed her a gun in his coat.

"You too, young man," the other man said, as he also showed his weapon.

"Who the hell are you two?" Neal asked.

"Keep walking, boy...or you'll get lead poisoning," Jasper hissed.

"Emma!" Snow called, as she approached with the kids. Horace smirked.

"Well...you've made this really easy for us," he said, as he grabbed Ben by the arm and held a firm hand on him.

"You'll follow along with all the brats, beautiful or I'll pick a few of them off," he threatened.

"Excuse me?" Snow asked dangerously.

"Do it...or I rip that necklace off your pretty neck and all of Portland will know your secret," he warned. She gasped, wondering how he could know, so she followed them, afraid they would make good on their threat or hurt one of her children.

Once they arrived at an abandoned dock, they were all tied up, except for the little ones, who were frightened by now.

"Shut that brat up!" Jasper snapped, as she did her best to soothe him, even with tied hands.

"He's frightened...lower your voice!" Snow snapped, as Horace looked through her phone.

"Okay...we're going to call the hubby now and then the Madam will be along to meet her catch," Horace said.

"Who is the Madam?" Neal asked.

"Nevermind kid...you're not a part of the plan, but since you seem important to blondie here, you're still alive. But that can change," Horace threatened, as he dialed David and put the phone to Snow's ear.

~*~

David looked through the documents that Cleo had collected.

"So...Neal Cassidy. He jumped a huge bail in Phoenix and now he's been spotted here in Portland?" he asked. Cleo nodded.

"Both the Phoenix PD and Portland PD are clamoring over who gets him. Phoenix wants him for stealing twenty grand in pricey watches. Here in Portland, it's petty stuff mostly, so Phoenix hired us. Either way, we get the payday and their district attorneys can fight over who gets to prosecute," she answered. David squinted, as he looked at the grainy photo of the culprit.

"This is the best photo they have?" he asked. She nodded.

"He's young...but he's good. Knows where all the cameras are and how to avoid them," she replied.

"Okay...well, if he's sticking to petty stuff, we should canvas the convenience stores and the grocery stores," he said.

"Agreed," she replied, as they prepared to head out when he got a call on his cell phone.

"David!" Snow cried, before someone else was speaking.

"She's a lovely lass...a spitfire too," a man said in what sounded like a British accent.

"Who the hell are you and where is my wife?" he demanded to know.

"My name isn't important, mate...but I am enjoying the company of your lovely woman and your noisy brats. Six is quite a brood...but then I guess I wouldn't be able to control myself with a fetch like her," the man said.

"If you touch one hair on her head or any of my children…" he growled.

"You're not in the position to make threats...Mr. Nolan and you'd do yourself well to hold your tongue. I know your secrets, mate. I've seen the...tails and I have the proof," he said. David went pale at that and swallowed thickly.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"Come to the Highland Docks tonight at nine pm...it's an old defunct dock on the east side of the city. No cops...or me and my partner will have some fun with your gorgeous wife, if you get my drift," he said.

"I'll be there...but touch them and I'll be your worst nightmare," David warned, as he hung up the phone.

"What's going on?" Cleo asked.

"Someone has S...Margaret and the kids. They want me to come to the Highland docks tonight. No cops or they're going to hurt them," David replied.

"For what? Why would they take your family?" she asked. David didn't know who they were, but he knew that they had somehow seen them in their other form.

"I don't know...but I have to go," he replied.

"I'm going with you," she insisted. He was about to protest, but she put her hands up.

"David...I know you and your wife have secrets. I've been an investigator for a long time. Whatever it is...it's safe with me," she assured him. He sighed.

"Okay...but you'll have to believe it to see it," he said, as he put his jacket on. She got hers and they headed out. Their search for Neal Cassidy would have to wait...or so they thought.

~*~

Snow had finally gotten the little ones to quiet down and she glared at their captors, before turning her attention to Emma and Baelfire.

"We've been looking for you for a long time, Bae," she whispered.

"So Emma told me...but you shouldn't have," he replied.

"We care about you, sweetheart...and I know that your father did some really terrible things. But he does love you," Snow said. He opened his mouth to retort, but she put her hand up to stop him.

"Hear me out," she requested and he remained silent.

"Before David and I had kids, I wouldn't have understood what he had done, because I would have sworn that I wouldn't have done anything remotely close to the things he had done, even for a child," she said, pausing for a moment.

"But then I became a mother and David became a father and that completely changed. I would do anything for my children...and I mean anything if I had to, even bad things, I'm afraid. When it comes to our kids, we would act in the moment and think about our actions later. It's just what a parent does and it makes us very imperfect," she continued.

"And someday, you'll understand that. And maybe, just maybe you'll be ready to give him a second chance then," Snow said, giving him something to think about.

"Right this way, Madam," Horace said and she stiffened at that, as she could hear the clicking of high heels on the floor.

"Well, well...long time no see, Snow White," the woman said and the raven haired beauty was shocked to see the woman before them.

"Mom...do you know her?" Ben asked.

"Mummy huh? My, my, that gorgeous husband of yours has been busy," she purred.

"Cruella De Vil…" Snow said, spitting the name in disgust.

"In the flesh...or fur, rather," she said, as she ran her hands over the monstrosity she was wearing.

"Do you like it? It's my newest purchase," she said, referring to the black and white mink coat she was wearing.

"Why...or how are you here?" Snow demanded to know.

"I could ask you the same thing...though I think I'm about to find out," she said, as she looked at Horace.

"Show me," she requested, as the man advanced on her. She shied away, but he ripped her necklace off.

"No!" she cried, as there was a poof and her legs became a brilliant white mermaid tale.

"So...that's how you and chisel chin escaped the curse," she realized, as she admired her tale.

"A curse?" she asked. Snow glared at her.

"At first…" she answered.

"Ah...then you saw the value in this magic. Tell me though, how did you get your hubby cursed with this?" she asked.

"Our story is none of your business, but if you must know, Charming found me even though I was cursed and had no voice," Snow replied indignantly.

"Yeah and Daddy gave Mommy true love's kiss!" Rose added and then got shy, as the woman's eyes raked toward her.

"Then why do you still have a tail?" Cruella asked.

"Because the Pink fairy told us that we could use true love's kiss to restore me to my human form...or she could use the reverse and make Charming like me...make us both this way. I thought by doing that and escaping that Regina would give up on her revenge," Snow replied. Cruella snorted.

"Well, she didn't," she said.

"I know...how did you escape the curse?" Snow asked curiously. Cruella smirked.

"I have my ways," she said, as Jasper suddenly hit the ground, unconscious.

"Oh good...it's about to get interesting. Come out, dahling...and careful with your movements. I have everything important to you in grave peril," she called. David emerged from the shadows.

"Ooohhh...you are certainly a treat for the eyes," she gushed.

"Cruella?" he asked in disbelief.

"The one and only," she replied.

"What do you want?" he demanded to know.

"Well...as someone who has found a family of mermaids, I could make a fortune, while the lot of you would end up in some circus somewhere," she replied.

"You're going to sell us?" Emma asked in horror. Cruella cackled, as Cleo emerged beside David, her eyes wide at what she was seeing.

"Your wife…" she uttered.

"Yeah…" David said. While he knew it was overwhelming information for Cleo, he had a feeling he could still trust her.

"Just let my family go! You're not making any money off us," he said.

"No...actually that's not why I need you anyway. But if you'd like to keep them breathing, you will all board this yacht with me and take me to Storybrooke," Cruella replied.

"You want to go to Storybrooke?" Snow asked.

"Yes...mummy is in a bit of trouble, you see. The man I married in this land is dripping with money, but he was just indicted by the Feds for fraud and if I don't escape, I'll be going to prison too. But in Storybrooke...I'll be safe," she replied.

"You're worse than Regina...why would we lead you right to Storybrooke?" David asked. Cruella smirked and Horace cocked the gun in his hand.

"Because if you don't...my associate is going to make a terrible mess out of your beloved wife," Cruella threatened. David put his hands up and Cleo did as well. Jasper, who was coming around, frisked them both and confiscated their handguns.

"Now...shall we be on our way? It's a smooth ride on my husband's yacht and it has all the amenities," Cruella said.

"I can't walk without my necklace," Snow replied. Cruella motioned to David.

"No funny business or bullets fly," she said. He picked her and the baby up in his arms and they shared a torn look. He carried them onto the ship, while their children, Baelfire, and Cleo were taken hostage as well. It would be a long trip to Maine and there was no telling what havoc Cruella would unleash on a cursed, unsuspecting Storybrooke...

[finkmakescharacters]

changed his piercings up a bit, added a little detail to the tattoos and other little fixes

figured I'd show all his piercings lol

Name: Johnathan "Johnny" Ross

Alias: Rudie Rebelle(drag persona)

Gender: cis male

Age: 21

Birthday: October 4th, 1999

Nationality: British/American

Height: 6'7"

Weight: 162bs

Sexuality: straight

Partner: Loretta Sims(fiancée)

Build: lanky and underweight, visible ribs, hip bones and spine, wide shoulders and narrow hips

Hair Color: naturally dark brown, dyed black and white

Hair Style: thick deathhawk with short sides

Eye Color: deep blue

Skin Tone: pale caucasian

Piercings: a lot, only septum, tongue, lobes, nipples and belly button are non-optional

Tattoos

-Union Jack heart on left shoulder

-sleeve of red, black and white roses on right arm

-stitches around his belly

Hometown: London, UK

Current Residence: Halflight, AZ

Parents: Carolyn Maude(52) and Paul Ross, briefly married, Carolyn took her maiden name back after he abandoned her and Johnny

Other Relatives: Daniel Maude(uncle, 48), Liza Maude(aunt, 46), Juniper Maude(cousin, 22), Duncan O'Reilly(uncle, 40)

Friends: Loretta Sims, Jeremy Fox, Jodie Fox, Oswald Sharp, Venus Estelle, Myles Hawkins

Pet: Waddles(munchkin cat)

Affiliation: The Heart Electric(band, lead vocals and guitar)

Personality: alert, compassionate, empathetic, friendly, genuine, good natured, humble, open, romantic, sensitive, sweet, emotional, frugal, quiet, reserved, soft, anxious, cautious, cowardly, crafty, delicate, fearful, gullible, melancholic, neurotic, shy, timid

Likes: antiques, playing with his band, drag, makeup art, piercings and body modification, sweets, songwriting, sleeping late

Dislikes: amusement parks, alcohol, people raising their voice, scary movies, arguing, large dogs, driving, feeling like he has no choices, being told he's not a real man, comments about his weight

Fears: the open ocean, guns, clowns, bees, surgery, being alone, the dark, losing control

-very sensitive and emotional, cries really easily, sympathy crier, if you start crying so will he

-doesn't own a car but he has a used motorcycle, a 2007 Suzuki Boulevard C50 Black

-lives in a small apartment Loretta and their cat, has a lot of posters on the walls, both his punk band posters and Loretta's cryptid posters

-likes crop tops and tight jeans, also likes his studded leather jacket, mesh tops, leather pants and band tees, anything with spikes is also a hit

-absolute mama's boy ever since he was little, would do anything for his mom and wishes she could visit more

-doesn't know who his dad is, he left him and his mom when he was 10 months old, doesn't care to know

-wasn't a very good student in school, especially as a teenager, fell in with a bad crowd and they pressured him into smoking, drinking, vandalism and stealing, once drove his "friend's" car while drunk and nearly crashed, has sworn off alcohol since but has been smoking since he was 16

-performs with his band as his drag persona, Rudie Rebelle, plays small gigs at bars and parties every weekend, more outgoing and confident in drag

-drag is his secret, would be absolutely mortified if somebody outside his friend group found out he's been dressing as a woman to perform

-light smoker, usually just a cigarette after meals or sex but a stressful day can warrant a few more, nothing like a cigarette after crying in the Wal-Mart bathroom

-doesn't get along with his uncle, aunt and cousin, they're narrow minded and abrasive at best and emotionally/verbally abusive at worst

-loved piercings ever since he was a little kid, his mom has shark bites and an industrial in each ear and he was always fascinated by them, she taught him about piercing care from a young age, wouldn't let him get his ears pierced until he proved he could care for it properly

-speaks with a cockney accent, naturally soft spoken and isn't keen on raising his voice outside of a gig

-hates the smell of marijuana, his friends respect this and don't smoke around him

-learned to play guitar as a teenager, always admired the confidence in his favorite bands and wanted to be just like them

-if he has nothing to do that day, Johnny will go to bed at 6am and wake up around 2-3pm

-doesn't have much of an appetite and gets full quickly, tries to eat several small meals through the day

-very comfortable in piercing parlors, he's afraid of a lot of things but needles and metal in his skin isn't one

-had the worst separation anxiety as a toddler

-learning to become a professional piercer, currently an apprentice

-not huge on babies and small children, school age children are usually okay, all they wanna do is touch his spiky jacket and hair

-please don't stare at him, yes he has a lot of piercings no you don't need to gawk at him

-used to love Pokemon as a kid, Loretta has reintroduced him to it and Electabuzz is still his favorite, more into GO than the main series

-not really book smart but can fix things from his motorcycle to music boxes to the kitchen sink

-huge fucking dork that writes like a dozen mushy songs about his girlfriend

-mom is a witch, didn't inherit any of her magical powers

-very hairy chest and armpits

-favorite bands include The Ramones, Cockney Rejects, Subhumans, The Business and Stiff Little Fingers

-likes having the radio on more than the TV, can't help but sing along 

Voice(or as close as I can find lol): https://youtu.be/JE6btxPRPXg

[jovialyouthmusic]

Special Delivery 3

I’m going to start with an apology here. This is not great literature, it’s just an exercise in writing about what I know and wrapping it up in a fluffy romance that will never happen. It’s pure self indulgence, but if you’d like to read some fluff with a bit of British culture thrown in for good measure, go ahead and read. If you want me to take you off the tag list, please ask, no offence taken. If any of the words or terms are unfamiliar, please ask, as I make no changes to suit American readers.

Word count 2572

Previous chapters can be found here and here 

Fabio and I visit the local fish and chip shop, and I explain what’s on the menu.

Warning - mentions the death of a parent.

3 Takeaway my heart...

Once parked outside my terraced house, I unlocked the door and Fabricio helped bring our rucksacks in. He left his boots and jacket by the door, which opened straight onto a room that had once been two small rooms, now knocked into one large one with the stairwell exposed. I was looking forward to moving to a place that had a porch where wet and muddy clothes could be left, although I was fond of my cozy little house. I went to the kitchen to unpack the lunch boxes after directing Fabio upstairs to the bathroom. He was soon back downstairs as I let myself sink into the couch by the window that looked out onto the street.

‘You have a nice place.’ he said ‘It’s small, but this room is…’ he searched for words and gave up ‘I like it.’

‘I chose it a few years ago.’ I answered. ‘It was hard making enough money to get a mortgage, but my parents helped’

‘Ah yes. They are - not here any more?’ I shook my head.

‘No, Dad died just after I bought it. If I hadn’t got this place I might have moved in with Mum, but I think we would have driven each other crazy, much as I loved her.’

‘Family is muy importante. Mi madre, mi padre - I love my parents, they have helped me so much.’

‘Me too.’ I smiled ‘Mum passed away a few months ago. I can pay my house off now, and I’m going to rent it out for a little more income’

‘Passed away?’ he asked.

‘Uh - she died.’ 

‘Oh, I’m sorry. You said before. You are sad?’ his expression changed to one of concern.

‘It’s okay Fabio, she was getting older and a little confused. I was just beginning to think of moving in to look after her, but I went to visit one morning and she’d passed away in her sleep – very peaceful.’

‘I think we would all like to go like that.’ he said. ‘Now, you are hungry, yes?’ he patted his stomach.

‘I am.’ I replied ‘Tired and hungry, but I really enjoyed our trip.’

‘Yo Tambien – me too.’ he smiled ‘It is difficult to travel, there are not many busses’

‘It is easier if you have a car.’ I admitted ‘But sometimes it gets very crowded with visitors.’ He nodded.

‘There are some takeaways near here?’ he asked ‘Perhaps we should not have pizza this time.’ he grinned.

‘Yes, there are two fish and chip shops and a couple of Indian curry houses, but we can ring them.’

‘Oh.’ his eyes lit up ‘You can tell me what to order in a fish and chip shop. My friends and workmates are not English.’ I smiled, and the thought of going into my local chippy with him suddenly overcame my aching feet and stiff legs.

‘We can go together’ I suggested ‘Perhaps a cup of tea first, and I’ll be good to go’

Walking along the narrow high street with Fabio got me a few curious and envious glances, and together we walked into my favourite chip shop. I went there sometimes as a treat, but too many visits and I would soon be overweight as just about everything they sold in there was deep fried. The shop was long and narrow, and a high stainless steel counter stretched for about three quarters of the length of the shop, the remainder of it being a normal height counter where customers paid and picked up their orders. The air was warm and humid and smelled of the hot fat and frying chipped potatoes and other savouries. Various pieces of battered and fried fish, sausage and other savouries were on display in the glass cabinet.

We entered at the back of the shop to queue. A young couple were in front of us, waiting for someone to take their order, and an older man sat on a ledge in the front shop window, obviously waiting for his. Fabio looked at the food sitting out for display as one of the shop employees, dressed in a white coat and white hat, got a wire basket of cut potatoes and lowered it into a vat of hot fat. Sizzling sounds filled the air and a great cloud of steam went up as the basket was shaken to get everything evenly distributed. The employee, Chris, looked up at the queue of people waiting as another woman with a small child had come in behind us. Fabio made a silly face at the child, who hid behind his mother’s leg, sticking his thumb in his mouth.

‘We’re just waiting on chips.’ Chris explained as Fabio nodded to the woman behind us.

‘You go first.’ he said ‘I don’t know what to have. It’s my first time.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ the woman smiled warmly, and gave me a wink as she squeezed past us, the child trailing after her and staring up at Fabio with wide eyes. He stuck his tongue out and the little boy grinned self consciously. Fabio looked back at me.

‘He’s just like my sister’s boy.’ he said fondly ‘I miss mi familia’ He nodded his head at the glass cabinet ‘So, tell me what all this is.’

‘Okay, this all cooked in advance – if it’s out here it’s not spoken for – it hasn’t been ordered. You’ll want chips of course; I’ll get a large portion to share…and you need some protein – some fish or chicken or sausage, and maybe a salad.’ I pointedly looked at his belly ‘You’ll need to work it off afterwards.’ He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

‘You look okay.’ he said, looking me up and down, making me wobbly legged again. ‘Do you eat here a lot?’

‘Oh no!’ I said I’d be the size of a bus if I had chips all the time. I just have it as a treat every now and again.’ He laughed.

‘Size of a bus?’

‘It’s just a saying’ I explained sheepishly. ‘I do use a lot of them, sorry if it’s confusing.’

‘No no, is good to hear things like that.’ he insisted. Again he looked at what was on offer. A huge board behind the counter formed a menu with prices clearly marked.

‘Okay, not all chip shops serve the same – here they serve not just fish, but sausage, pies, chicken, burgers and patties. It’s all fried apart from the chili con carne, which is probably the closest you’ll get to the sort of thing you eat at home – I think.’

‘What are you having?’ he asked.

‘I’ll have cod, if it’s big we can share it. I love curry sauce but it doesn’t really go with fish.’ I noticed he was frowning in concentration ‘Perhaps if you have a piece of chicken?’ I suggested. ‘You might like chicken breast, or you could try the sausage’

‘Okay, Chicken breast, and we share’ he decided

‘Right, we can have a side of salad or baked beans, or mushy peas’ He looked even more confused, and I had to suppress a laugh ‘Okay, I don’t like mushy peas or beans with chips anyway. Salad it is. Oh, we can have the curry sauce on the side and dip our chips…’ This time I couldn’t help chuckling as he looked completely lost. ‘Don’t worry, I know just what to get.’ I said reassuringly.

When I ordered the food, Steve told me it would take an extra ten minutes to get the chicken ready, so I took my visitor to the off licence a few doors down to look at the beer and wine available. I picked a couple of bottles of real ale for him to taste, and he chose a bottle of white wine, pleased that they stocked a passable bottle of Argentinian Sauvignon Blanc. I wondered if he would be walking back to his flat that night when he had eaten and drunk what we had bought.

It wasn’t long before we walked out of the chip shop with one bag that clinked and another full of food, heavy and fragrant with the scent of oil and potato and fish. We got back and set out the boxes and packets on the table. I heated up some plates, got out some knifes and forks, and Fabio started opening up the boxes. I put out the chips, and divided up the fish and chicken. He looked at it askance.

‘This is a lot of food.’ he said.

‘I know’ I sighed ‘Chris was very generous with the chips, and the fish and chicken…’ I patted my stomach, recalling the way Chris had shovelled chips into the polystyrene tray and wrapped it up in paper. ‘We don’t have to eat it all, you can take some home.’ He sat up straight and seized his fork, his expression grave.

‘Okay, let’s do this.’ He started to attack the meal, and I did too.

‘Mmm the fish is good.’ he said with relish ‘This is – batter?’

‘Just flour and water. They dip the fish in batter before frying it. It goes crispy and keeps the fish hot. You saw them doing it, remember?’

‘Mmm’ he said, swallowing, and took a gulp of the beer I’d bought ‘Deliciosa – tell me some words you would use.’

‘Okay – you can say the fish is tasty, or delicious – or yummy, or scrumptious.’

‘Scrumptious? I like this word.’ he said before trying the chips.

‘You can put all sorts of sauces on the chips’ I explained ‘Hold on, you can try some’ I went out to the kitchen and returned with some bottles ‘Now I like their curry sauce’ I opened a pot they had given me, and dipped one into the pale brown substance, and held it out to him with my fingers. He took a bite and rolledit around his mouth appraisingly.

‘Not so bad.’ he said. I showed him the tomato ketchup and the brown sauce, and offered him vinegar.

‘Lots of people like to have vinegar put on the chips straight away’ I said ‘but I think it makes them go soggy. I like them crisp.’

‘I like this.’ he pointed to the brown sauce when he had sampled them all ‘It’s spicy but not too much. It’s yummy.’ I nodded.

‘Your English is good’ I said ‘You just mix up the order a little, but I suppose I’d do the same if I tried to learn Spanish. He grinned.

‘I teach you’

‘You should say I will teach you or I’ll teach you’

‘I will teach you, Lisa.’ He waved a chip in the air ‘Say after me Fabio es muy guapo’ I narrowed my eyes at him.

‘That’s a word I see a lot on your Instagram feed in the comments’

‘Say it’ he challenged me. I sighed.

‘Okay, Fabio es muy guapo.’ He laughed, flashing his white toothed smile.

‘Is it a rude word?’

‘Nooo.’ he laughed. ‘It means you think I’m handsome.’ I rolled my eyes.

‘Fabio, you’re a model, of course you’re handsome.’ I tapped away on my phone ‘Okay then – Fabio me engañó, él es travieso’ He laughed harder, shaking his head.

‘Yes senora, I tricked you and I am’ he furrowed his brow, then tapped the word into his phone ‘Naughty - that is a strange word in English. Did I say it right?’

‘Almost perfect, but I went for ‘mischievous’, it means the same.’ I replied. ‘How about me – is my Spanish good?’ He put his hand palm down in mid air and waggled it from side to side.

‘A little not good.’ 

‘Not so good, or so-so’ I corrected him. ‘We’re close to France here, so at school we learn French – I know in the USA they learn Spanish rather than French, so I don’t know a lot. A lot of British people go to Spain on holiday, but I haven’t.’

‘My parents made sure I learned English.’ he explained ‘It has been useful for work – around the world many people speak it, but British English is different to American English.’

‘Our cultures are very different too, but American culture is taking over a little.’ I said. ‘It’s sad some things are changing or getting lost.’

‘You can show me what is different.’ he smiled ‘If you like – if you have time.’

‘Of course, though moving house is going to be difficult. I’ve taken time off my classes.’ He looked at me in query. ‘I teach Yoga.’ I explained ‘I drive to villages and take classes. It doesn’t pay a lot, but I enjoy it, and I manage. My parents helped me out, and they’ve left me the house and some money, so I can relax for a while. Renting this house will help too, and I might have enough to buy a flat too.’

‘I help you move.’ he frowned and corrected himself. ‘I will help you move – is that right?’

‘Yes, you’re learning fast.’ I said. We carried on eating until Fabio declared he couldn’t eat any more. We hadn’t managed to eat everything, but to do so would have been painful. I heard the catflap slam shut and my ginger tomcat came in to investigate the smell of fish.

‘Ah, el gato!’ Fabio exclaimed. ‘He is yours?’

‘Hello there Ginger, about time you showed up.’ I greeted him. He froze in alarm and stared at my guest, who leaned down, flicking his fingers and making little kissy sounds. After a cautious sniff, Ginger decided he wasn’t too much of a threat and approached him. When Fabio reached out and scratched his ears, he had a new best friend as Ginger melted, just like I had, and fell at his feet, rolling over and exposing his belly.

‘He’s cute.’ he smiled. ‘Ginger.’ he made more clucking noises and carefully stroked the cat’s belly. Ginger writhed on the floor, completely under Fabricio’s spell, but like the typical cat he was, he suddenly decided he’d had enough and leapt to his feet, shaking himself. Fabio took his hand back swiftly.

‘It’s okay, he doesn’t scratch or bite – or hardly ever.’ I said. ‘Come on Ginge, let’s see what’s left in your dish.’ I went through to the kitchen and gave him a fresh dish and a handful of kitty kibble. He set to eating it, noisily crunching, and I straightened up with a groan, my full belly announcing its discomfort. Fabricio stood in the doorway.

‘I will go home.’ he said.

‘You can find your way? I’m sorry, I’ve drunk too much to drive.’

‘Is okay, is not far and the walk will be good.’ he replied. There was an awkward silence and I remembered his promise not to touch me with some small regret. He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Thankyou Lisa, I’ve had a very English day.’ My heart skipped a beat as he leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. As I blushed, he stepped back ‘Like a brother.’ he said gravely. I took a shaky breath and followed him to the front door.

‘See you tomorrow.’ I said as I opened it and he stepped out onto the street. He made a mock salute.

‘Hasta mañana, Lisa.’ he grinned, and walked off to his digs.