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yandere-sins · 4 years

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1 and 12 for Dabi, please. Love your blog btw❤️

“I saw you last night…you looked beautiful.”“Sweetheart, I have to mark you. How else is everyone gonna know you’re mine?”

@platinumbelle Glad you enjoy your time here!! Thank you for requesting ^-^

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“I saw you last night…you looked beautiful.”

His words were incredibly hard to make out over the jazz playing in the background. However, the music couldn’t keep the giggles, followed by a snort, falling from your lips as you put the words together in your mind, your cheeks flushing lightly. Maybe it wasn’t even the flattering that made them flare up, perhaps it was just the cocktail. But it sure did a lot to you already feeling sweaty hot.

“You cannot have seen me,” you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. “Why not?” Dabi asked, taking another sip from his glass, still fairly filled with some strong-smelling alcohol. “I was at work yesterday, we didn’t even meet.” With that, you reciprocated his gesture, though your swig was way bigger than the tiny bit Dabi had taken in.

It was so easy. Easy to be with you, easy to make you talk. Everything about you was easy, and it put him at ease, being the one to keep you company when you were so vulnerable. “ ‘That so?” he grinned, averting his eyes from you, back to his glass, swaying the fluid side to side.

The slightly sweet taste covered the stinging alcohol, allowing you to down what you had left of your after-work-drink. Wouldn’t have been your first choice, but you did not want to tell him that after he got it for you. It was just a sweet gesture of him to get you drinks. And to take you out… and to listen to your rambles.

Somewhere, after all these dates, you must have fallen in love with Dabi after all.

Of course, he seemed like a rough thug. All these patches on his body and the way his eyes seemed to pierce right through you, he did look like it. But the longer you were with him - even with you being reluctant at first too - the more you realized how sweet and caring he really was.

The places he brought you to all had a few things in common. It was dark, served strong drinks, and you two were able to have some privacy, hidden away in seating booths and behind screen folds. You didn’t mind it that it wasn’t all shiny and glamorous, after all, you had good company. There wasn’t much to complain about.

“Want one more?” he asked casually, glancing from your flushed cheeks to your empty glass. “I- uh- You know, maybe I should go to the bathroom first- huh!”

It was more of a struggle than you had expected, just to get you out of your seat. The moment you stood, your knees collapsed, making you sink back into the red, faux-leather cushions of the booth’s bench. Lucky for you, Dabi had noticed your struggles even before you, jumping out of his seat - quite somber - to assist you. Steadying you with his arms hooked beneath yours, you were quite happy you didn’t have to bump your butt against the wood under the cushions which you would have probably reached from the force. And bewildered, you laughed into his shoulder about your own clumsiness.

“Sorry, sorry! Just a little tipsy!”

You felt him let out a deep breath before he left you to your own body strength again, but before he pulled away completely, he pulled you against his torso, your head resting against your stomach. “Gotta be more careful there, Doll. You made me all jumpy.”

“Ah, sorry,” you repeated, finding yourself lean forward, resting against his stomach - surprisingly content with the closeness. Though you could have blamed it on the alcohol, you just enjoyed having someone care for you at that moment. It was something you lacked a lot lately, especially with your work treating you like a poorly paid slave at best, never giving your recognition or the attention you deserved for what you did.

“[Name]?” he mumbled, and you could feel the vibration even in his tummy, making you wonder if his voice had always been quite so nicely deep. “Eh? Oh, yes?” you stuttered, leaning back, only to lose the balance, threatening to fall backwards.

Just in time, a firm hand gripped your wrist, catching you midair, a smile of relief falling over your lips. Though you weren’t ‘save’ all too long, as you felt Dabi’s leg find some halt on the bench, right between your own legs, the tension on your arm loosening as he let you down slowly, crawling right after. This time when you chuckled, it sounded nervous. And you could be sure that he noticed.

“W-Well, that’s a little awkward,” you tried to laugh it off, hands finding some place on his body to hold. However, that was by far not enough to stop him, your vision soon clouded by his hair, while you felt his hot breath against his neck. “O-Oh, what if someone sees us? That would be bad, r-right?”

“Don’t care,” was his answer, and you gulped while you thought to feel his lips on your neck, the tickling faintly noticeable. “B-But what if they kick us out?”

“They won’t.”

You had exactly enough time for opening your mouth one more time, but all that left you was a gasp, the bite prominent by the way it made your skin burn. Burn very differently than the alcohol even. Taken aback and with fuzzy thoughts - reaching from shocked to a little bit turned on - you were neither verbally nor physically able to do much as you laid there, pinned down on a dirty bar’s bench cushions. Even if you maybe could have thought about a relationship developing between you two, this was still nothing you really wanted to experience in public, no matter how alluring it might seem to your tipsy mind.

But just as quickly as it was over, you snapped out of it, pushing him - a little roughly - up from you, and supporting yourself again. “I- Why-” you stuttered, feeling his teeth marks with your fingers. “Why did you do that?”

“Sweetheart, I have to mark you. How else is everyone gonna know you’re mine?”

Even though the dim lights, you could see the smirk on his face, Dabi seemingly unbothered by your confusion or the scene he just made. And while he reached for his drink for another sip, you quietly pushed your way out, excusing you to the bathroom.

Without even having seen the mark yet, he knew you must have been looking so pretty. But all you could think about when you looked at it in the dirty bathroom mirror was how much scolding you’d receive at your work when you got there the next morning.

If Dabi even let you go to work after that night.

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that-bajan-kid · 4 years

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Boku No Hero Academia Chapter 257 SPOILERS

(I have a bad feeling about this...)

Yes! We finally get to learn about the other quirks.

So Izuku is asking about Black Whip. Apparently he can only use it for a few seconds and can only use it for support.

Oooooo Bakugou is reading the book.

The fifth successor. He kinda reminds me of a British stereotype. Like what you would imagine a Brit that's into heavy metal to look like. Now that I think about it, Mic reminds me of that stereotype too. It doesn't help that he's also the English teacher.

That makes sense. AFO wouldn't want an opponent that could actually put up a fight.

All Might goes on to say that the predecessors weren't chosen but rather entrusted. They were just random people that just so happened to be around when they were dying and ended up with the quirk. That means that All Might and Izuku were probably the only ones who actually chosen to be successors.

Apparently they all died young as well. Well isn't that just... lovely.

Katsuki, probably wanting to move the conversation to something less... grim, asks what's next on the lists of quirks Izuku has to master.

So she could fly. Or I guess "float". That image of her and Gran Torino is really cool btw.

Katsuki's immediate reaction upon hearing this is to start laughing like a lunatic and bragging about how he can already do that with his quirk which makes him the winner of the 'who can one-up who better' competition.

An argument of who's better insues and All Might watches fondly as his two sons bicker back and forth. It reminds me of those moments when the parent figure has a moment with their child right before they go do something that will definitely kill them. It scares me.

The Disaster Duo goes back to the dorms where everyone is making food for a new year's party.

The kids are all talking about how they'll be second years next term and how the new first years will come to them for advice and all that jazz. While this is going on Izuku is thinking about how #blessed his life is right now and that he's happy. I'm very scared.

Denki with his hair pinned back gives me life.

HA I WAS RIGHT THEY'RE GONNA START ERI'S TRAINING SOON.

All Might is telling Aizawa that he's decided to live but now he feels super useless because the kids are growing up and he feels like they don't need him anymore. He's retired from hero work and now he has all this free time that he doesn't know what to do with.

Also apparently he's supposed to have a meeting with Stain? Aizawa said Tsukauchi wants him to postpone it. Are they gonna use Toshi to get Stain to tell them about his brief encounter with Shigaraki? That makes sense. All Might is the only hero, besides Deku, that Stain is ok with. He's not gonna be much help tho but any info is use full info at this point.

Aizawa tells him that just by living he's inspiring people to keep going and do their best.

I'm very, very scared. If that doesn't scream "ALL MIGHT IS GONNA DIE SOON!" I don't know what does.

Cherry blossoms are never a good sign in anime.

UHHH UMMM NANI?!?!?

Not only did we get a time skip but apparently all the heroes are MISSING?!?!? With no explanation whatsoever I-

And look at that bastard. Walking around all cheery like he isn't responsible for the world's immenant doom.

Since this is late March then I'm gonna say we have, like, a week (?) Until Shigaraki is complete Nomufied and wreaks havoc on Japan. All the heroes are missing but why? Are they on a mission to find the hospital Shiragiri told Erasermic about? But Dr. Ujiko wouldn't be so happy if that were the case.

Ugh! I need answers, damn it!

Until next time, I guess.

#my class times got changed and now they're clashing again #the system won't let me switch classes #what a wonderful way to start the new semester #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia spoilers #bnha #bnha spoilers #bnha manga #bnha manga spoilers #bnha chapter 257 #bnha chapter 257 spoilers

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cupcakeruth · 5 years

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Undercover [a Spy/Scout’s Ma fic]

((A story about a young spy attending a masquerade-esque party in order to finish a job, but happens to see a familiar face there.))

((I just love this ship and I can’t get enough of it. I apologize for any errors btw. Also, this is the first time I’m posting one of my fics here, so... enjoy.))

Spy’s eyes carefully scanned the front of the building. There were so many people standing out front, and it was obvious that there were even more people on the inside. This job couldn’t have been any easier, honestly; He had to attend this very extravagant masquerade party and kill the host. What better way to meet the target face to face and also be unrecognizable! This was almost too easy, and it nearly concerned him. However, he was confident he’d get this job done in no time.

Spy walked up the long stairway that lead to the front door and simply smirked to himself. Who knew Boston was capable of building decent homes? This place didn’t seem as much of a trash heap as he originally thought.

Spy slicked back his jet black hair and adjusted his tie as he approached the door. There was a person who was greeting everyone with a huge smile on his face. Spy himself put on his charming smile and gently shook the man’s hand.

“Thanks for coming!” The man told Spy.

“Thank you for having me,” the Frenchman simply said in return, his gloved hand slowly edging his way out of the grip. He then took a step inside the lovely home and adjusted his mask, making sure it was secure. He wanted no slip ups at all.

Inside, the party certainly was lively. A jazz band was playing music, butlers with trays began weaving through the crowd of guests and offered food or drinks to them, and people were dancing and chatting away.

Spy looked around and concluded that there were way too many people in the building. He wasn’t too fond of really crowded places. He enjoys his personal space. However he knew in order to avoid suspicion, he’d probably have to create small talk. Good thing he was a natural at it.

Before creating small talk though, he wanted to make sure he could keep track of his target. So far, the host was nowhere to be seen. Spy sighed and took a small glass of champagne off of a table. He really didn’t want to spend more time here than he needed to.

A woman brushed by Spy, snapping him out of his slight daze. She caught Spy’s attention for sure.

She wore a very pretty dark-blue dress that trailed all the way to the floor, and it shimmered like the night sky. Her black hair was wrapped up in a beautiful bun, and held together by a glittery pin. He simply couldn’t take his eyes off her.

After a moment of observing her some more, he rose a brow. There was something familiar about her. He squinted, trying to figure it out, then gasped. He exactly who she was. He smiled and decided to approach her.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle. What is a beautiful lady like you doing here, sitting all by yourself?” Spy asked casually as he sat beside her.

The woman looked Spy up and down, and scoffed. She turned her head.

Spy chuckled, realizing she probably didn’t recognize him. He found that stubbornness to be rather adorable.

“I must say, it is always such a delight to see such a lovely lady,” he spoke up again and gently picked up the woman’s hand.

However, before Spy’s face could get any closer, she slowly pushed him away and glared at him through her mask.

“Excuse me, were you just about to kiss my hand?” She finally said, and stood up. Spy stood up as well, keeping his calm. The woman began walking towards the Frenchman, and this was one of those rare moments where he actually felt like he was in danger of getting really hurt. He began backing up as she continued to take steps closer to him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are, but I’m not interested in some mediocre man thinking he can just waltz up to me and expect me to fall in love with him. That’s not how I roll, honey. If you think you can simply just approach me and sway me with a few words, you’re completely wrong!” she hollered, grabbing Spy by the tie at this point.

That fire in her... it was irresistible to him.

Spy chuckled softly, but then stopped as he looked around the room. He realized all eyes were on him being publicly rejected. Well... that was new.

Spy kept a small smile on his face as he gently removed the hand that was death-gripping his tie.

“I apologize if I came off too forward. I just figured you’d recognize me in an instant. Especially since we’ve been dating for— how long again?— ah, right. Two months. I hope I’m not that mediocre to you, mon cheri,” he said quietly, so all the eyes on them would lose interest. The woman paused, continuing to look Spy up and down.

“Oh come the fuck on. You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she casually said. “I should’ve recognized your voice you asshole.” She playfully shoved Spy, then glanced around. She got ahold of the man’s hand and headed back to the table.

“May I ask you a question?” Spy asked, tilting his head once the two of them sat back down.

“Go for it. I know I’ve got a lot of questions for you,” she smiled slightly.

“Yes, I figured as much. My question for you is: what are you doing here? I never pictured you to be the type to attend these kinds of parties,” Spy rose a brow and took a sip of his champagne.

“Oh that? Yeah, I’m not really into these fancy parties.” She paused to reach over to grab a small champagne glass. “I was invited by a co-worker. I haven’t seen her around though because it’s nearly impossible to recognize anybody. Now, my questions for you are: what the hell are you doing here, and how the hell did you recognize me?”

“To answer your second question first, I’m just going to say that there is nothing anyone can hide from me. I’m simply good at what I do,” Spy smirked slightly, amused by how surprised she seemed. “And to answer your first question, I’m afraid I cannot tell you. It is very classified information. I’ll at least tell you this: I’m not in town because of you this time.”

The woman drummed her fingers on the table. “I cannot believe you recognized me,” she smiled some, her finger lazily tracing the rim of the champagne glass. “So that’s what your hair looks like, huh? Now I need to piece it together with the other parts of your face I’ve seen.”

Spy smiled and adjusted his tie in a casual manner, since it had been so aggressively moved out of place from what happened earlier. “Well, good luck with that. You know how careful I am about showing my face.”

The woman couldn’t help but smile as she listened to the other. God what she’d give to see his entire face. She knew that wouldn’t be possible though. After another moment of observation, she rose a brow. “So, if you’re not in town to see me this time, I’m guessing it’s work related?”

Spy sipped his drink and gently set it down, not answering her for a moment. “You just worry about you, alright? I’ll worry about me.”

“Oh for hell’s sake. Don’t lie to me.” She paused to look around, and then leaned in close. For whatever reason, Spy couldn’t help the heat that rushed to his cheeks.

“Who are you gonna kill?” She asked very quietly.

That question snapped Spy out of his daydream and his smile fell a bit.

“Nobody. It is none of your concern,” he simply answered. He then went back to drinking his champagne.

“Right. Spy, you know I’m not that stupid, yeah?”

Spy shook his head and set the empty glass down. “I know! I know. But...” his voice trailed off and he looked away. The last thing he wanted was his romantic life to be involved with his work life. That’s usually why he wasn’t the type to stay in relationships for too long. However, she felt different. He wanted to protect her from all of that.

“Spy,” she said, grabbing his attention again. She gently got ahold of Spy’s hand. “I won’t ask anymore questions, okay? Just try not to lie to me too much. I’ve had enough men lie to me in my past. Don’t be one of those men.”

Spy’s smile slowly returned and he gave her a small nod. “Right. I’m sorry,” he said, gently gripping her hand back. The Frenchman took a moment to look around for anyone who seemed to be the host, but still, nothing so far. His eyes landed on the jazz band, and he smiled as he looked back at the beautiful woman sitting next to him. “Care to dance?” He asked in a gentlemanly manner.

The woman paused, and laughed some. “That’s a joke, right?” She smiled as she looked up at Spy, who was now standing up and offering his hand. She then grew a bit nervous. “Spy, look, if you’ve got work to do I don’t want to distract you. Go on and take care of whatever it is.”

“Nonsense,” Spy stated and pulled her up and out of the chair, and she gasped as she stumbled into his chest. Spy glanced down at her, chuckling at the other’s actions. She gave him a small punch to the gut and decided to just go along with it.

Despite the pain in his gut, Spy gently guided his lover to the dance floor and placed his free hand on her waist.

“Spy, you don’t have to do this.” She smiled shyly as she placed her free hand on his shoulder.

“I know... but I want to do this,” Spy said back and began dancing with her.

The two practically ignored the slow song that was playing since they were so captivated by each other. Nothing could tear them apart. As they continued dancing, they seemed to be even closer than before. Their lips had almost met, but a man suddenly stepped in.

“May I have the next dance?” He asked.

The two separated for a moment, and Spy glared softly at the man. He then stepped back towards his lover and chuckled.

“Oh I’m so sorry, monsieur. I’m afraid I’m taken for the rest of the night. I appreciate the offer though,” Spy smirked and began dancing away from the random guy.

The woman let out a slight snort once they were far away enough. “He was talking to me, prick,” she teased.

“How do you know? Who wouldn’t want to dance with me? Or, the better question: why would you want to dance with him when you’ve got me?”

“It’s cute how charming you think you are, hon. But, you do realize that was the host, right?” She snickered.

Hearing that, Spy’s eyes widened and he stopped dancing for a moment. “Wait that was who?” He asked, then decided to continue dancing. He wanted to make sure he heard her correctly.

“The man you just cockblocked was the host of the party, you chucklehead.”

Spy listened carefully to her this time, and stumbled a bit on his feet, nearly causing the two of them to fall over. The woman quickly helped the both of them get back on their feet again.

“Shit, are you serious? How did you know?” Spy asked quietly.

“He’s my co-worker’s husband. I kinda know what he looks like,” she answered.

“Co-worker?”

“Yeah. The one I told you about. She invited me here.”

Spy felt dizzy. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t know that he was planning on killing him. This was exactly why he wanted to keep work separate from his love life.

“Spy, are you alright?” She asked with concern. “You ain’t lookin’ too good. Did you have too much to drink?”

Spy held his head for a moment. “Maybe. I’ll be right back, mon cheri. Don’t talk to anyone, and don’t dance with anyone else, alright?” He said somewhat urgently.

“Oh?... Uh, okay.”

With that, Spy hurried away and went into a small bathroom. He loosened his tie and hung his head a bit as he gripped the sides of the sink.

Should he tell her what he was really doing at this party? He didn’t want to, but he knew he’d probably have to tell the truth eventually. The thought of that made his stomach churn. He used to think this job would be easy, but now he was just conflicted.

Just then, there was a small knock at the door, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“O-Occupied,” He weakly called out through the door. He sighed and splashed water on the exposed parts of his face, and stayed quiet.

Again, there was another knock.

“Occupied,” Spy repeated in a more annoyed tone of voice.

“That’s too bad. I thought you cared about your woman,” a voice spoke.

Spy’s eyes widened and he quickly opened the door. It was the host.

“What did you do to her? Where is she?” Spy huffed. He took a step towards the other, but the host pulled out a knife.

“None of your concern. I know who you are and I know that you’re not gonna kill me today,” the host smirked. “Take another step closer, and I’m gonna do something to your woman that you probably won’t like.”

Spy glanced to the knife and grit his teeth. It’s not that the host was that threatening, he was just mostly concerned for his lover. He stayed quiet as he thought about what to do. He was practically cornered since he was standing in the small bathroom, still. This was just plain dirty.

“I can tell you’re still pretty new at this, so I’m gonna give it to ya straight: you’re not sly at all and I could tell who you were in no time,” the host grinned. “They told me to look for a young french man. They told me to look for someone observant. It was almost too easy, seeing you always scanning the room, waiting for me to appear. Not to mention, your little lady referring to you as ‘Spy’ was pretty much a dead giveaway. Might wanna go by a fake name next time.”

“Where is she?” Spy snapped.

“Who? The ugly woman? Oh, I’ve got her somewhere you’ll never find her. Unless... you tell me the location of whoever sent you,” the host casually said with a shrug.

Spy kept his mouth shut. He’d find her somehow. He should have never left her alone though. He just needed to get out of this little trap.

“Alright. But you’ll show me where she is first,” Spy finally said after a while.

“I’m not stupid,” the host said, pointing his knife at the other. “You’ll tell me the location of your boss first.”

Spy glared, and secretly reached up his sleeve for something. He was then quick to tackle the other man to the ground, and pressed his own dagger against the other’s neck.

“You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve. Just so we’re clear...you’re going to show me where she is first AND give me the information I want, and then you will die. Unless... you want to die right here,” the Frenchman hissed.

“Spy?” A woman’s voice spoke. The two men glanced up from their position on the ground.

Spy’s eyes widened. “Mon cheri, you’re alright!” He smiled softly, almost forgetting about the man he was holding down.

Just then, the host quickly used his knife to cut the string on Spy’s masquerade mask. Spy gasped as his mask fell, and was quick to cover his face. The host used that distraction as a getaway, and ran off.

“Shit,” Spy muttered as he reached around for his mask.

“Spy,” the woman frowned and knelt down beside Spy. “Here, take my mask. I won’t look,” she said and untied her mask. She gently placed the item in Spy’s free hand—the one that wasn’t covering his face— and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Spy turned away as he quickly put the mask on his face. He sighed and stood up, glancing at the dagger that he had dropped.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I meant to tell you— well, actually I didn’t— but I was debating about telling you everything. I have to kill him. That’s why I’m here,” Spy explained.

The Frenchman’s lover stood up and walked to Spy’s side. “You could’ve just told me. I would’ve stayed out of your way. Hell, I probably could help ya,” she smirked slightly.

Spy looked over his shoulder at the other and smiled, happy to see her beautiful face not be covered by a mask. It was reassuring, to say the least. However, his smile fell a bit.

“Non, the last thing I want for you is to be mixed in with this,” he shook his head and gently took up her hands in his own. “Just let me take care of this.”

The woman glanced up at the other and rose a brow. “And watch you get nearly killed again? I’m sorry honey, but I can’t enjoy myself at this shitty party knowing all that I know now.”

Spy chuckled, hearing the other’s honest remarks. How could he say no to her?

—

The two had scouted out the party, but the host was nowhere to be seen.

“I think I really messed this job up. He could be in a jet halfway across the world by now,” Spy sighed.

The woman scoffed. “Oh please. He’s not that quick. But, if you don’t mind telling me, why is he your target?”

Spy placed a hand on the nape of his neck, not really prepared to share this bit of information with her.

“To put things simply: the host... copulated with my boss’s daughter. Now, I must kill him,” he answered.

“Oh my god. He cheated on my co-worker with your boss’s daughter? Holy shit,” she muttered.

“Right? A small world after all,” Spy said sarcastically. “Come. I think I may have an idea of where he ran off to,” he said, gesturing for her to follow his lead.

The two headed out towards the backyard and looked around. It had gotten dark pretty quickly, but the party was still going on. People were jumping in the pool, people were drinking like it was the end of the world, etc. etc.

Spy had a sneaking suspicion that he was being watched, and glanced back up at the house. He noticed a figure on the balcony, and squinted.

“Shit,” Spy muttered and grabbed his lover’s hand. He hurried back into the house and up the stairs. He then slowed down his steps, attempting to be quiet. “The host could be in any of these rooms,” he told the woman. She nodded.

“What’s the plan?” She asked quietly.

“Just follow my lead,” Spy answered.

The two continued to quietly walk down the halls. Just then, a door quickly opened, causing the two to jump a bit and be on guard. However, it was just a drunk couple leaving one of the bedrooms.

“Scared the absolute hell outta me,” the woman muttered. Spy chuckled and gently shushed her.

“This way,” Spy whispered and stood in front of a door. He then quickly opened the door and pulled out a small pistol. The room was empty.

The woman rose a brow as she watched Spy. “I wish I could say you looked cool doing that, but since there’s nobody here, ya look kinda goofy.”

Spy lowered the pistol and playfully glared at the other. “You don’t need to make fun of me while I’m working, mon cheri.”

He then stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. He moved on to the next room and gestured for his lover to stay back. He kicked down the door and pointed his pistol. He saw that there was a door in this room that led to the balcony, and he stayed on guard.

“I know you’re in here,” he muttered quietly. He walked forward into the room and carefully listened for any sort of sound.

“Spy, look out!” The woman called out, and before Spy could react, he was pinned to the ground.

“Thought you could sneak up on me? You’re too predictable,” the host chuckled, pressing a gun to Spy’s head.

Spy struggled for a bit, but stayed calm. “At least I found you,” he mumbled.

“Let him go,” the woman said sternly. The host paused, and glanced to the woman at the door.

“Stay out of this,” he told her. He then ignored her, not feeling too threatened.

“Cheri, I can handle this. I am a professional. Just, please leave,” Spy warned her.

“Professional my ass,” the host laughed. “You call this succeeding? You’re failing miserably at the one job you had to do. And now you’ll die a pathetic death.”

Spy was able to get on arm free from the other man’s grasp, and he quickly stabbed the man in the thigh. The host let out a cry in pain and dropped his gun. Spy quickly grabbed it and pointed it at the other, smirking.

“I think you get too caught up in your monologues. Say goodbye,” he said proudly, ready to pull the trigger. However, he hesitated, and looked over at his lover. She stood there in silence, letting Spy work.

Spy frowned. Was this the best thing to do in front of her?

He didn’t have too much time to think it through, because he was tackled to the ground again.

“I think you’re too distracted by your lady friend,” The host grinned and held up the knife that was stabbed ferociously into his thigh earlier.

Before he could jab the knife into Spy’s heart, he suddenly collapsed and fell to the side.

Spy looked up and noticed his lover standing above him, holding a blunt object.

“Did... Did you just hit him?” Spy asked in confusion. Everything seemed to have happened so fast.

“Of course I did! He was about to kill you, you idiot!” She huffed, setting the object down. She knelt down and reached her hand out to the Frenchman.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Spy asked with a small smirk, gently taking her hand and standing up.

“Because! I’m very freaked out and I just knocked a man unconscious!” She stated and glanced over at the fallen man. “Or he could be dead, but who the hell knows?!”

“Alright, just relax, mon cheri. I will take care of the rest. No need to be worked up,” Spy chuckled softly. He felt bad she was feeling this way, but he was beyond grateful. He was a bit distracted by her presence and honestly, he owed her his life just now.

“I can’t calm down! I am having an adrenaline rush!” She said, and began to pace.

Spy looked down at the man on the ground, and thought for a moment. He pulled out his knife and stabbed him in the back to make sure he was dead. He then calmly walked to the other to hopefully calm her down a bit.

“Hey, it’s over now, alright? It’s done. He’s dead, I’m alive, we’re together,” Spy smiled reassuringly. She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around Spy’s neck.

“That... That was fucking exhilarating. Holy shit. I honestly don’t know what to say. You are probably the craziest man I’ve ever dated,” she muttered, staring at Spy’s chest and not meeting eyes with him.

Spy frowned hearing that. He didn’t want her to be mixed into all this. This sort of life shouldn’t be for her.

His thoughts were interrupted by her leaning into him and kissing him deeply. Spy slowly closed his eyes as he relaxed into the kiss and smiled slightly behind it. She parted away for a moment in order to breathe, and began fumbling with Spy’s tie.

“You better take this shit off right now,” she said.

“Now?” Spy blushed and rose a brow.

“Yes, damnit! It’s all your fault I’m worked up anyway!”

“Oh... alright,” Spy simply said and shrugged.

Maybe she wasn’t that bothered by Spy’s job and he was just overthinking everything. Maybe this would all work out, he thought to himself. At least, he’d try and make this work out for her. For them.

-End-

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mad-madam-m · 5 years

Note

How do you see next season of Tiger & Bunny? What do you think should happen?

OH MAN LET’S TALK BECAUSE I HAVE IDEAS, OKAY.

A friend of mine did ask me about this before and I had a whole long response to it (all of which still applies, BTW), but hey, you gave me half a chance to talk about this show so I’m gonna take it.

This got SUPER long, which I feel isn’t too surprising because I crammed in literally everything I could think of that I want to happen and I’m sure I’m still missing things.

But yes, God, talk to me about what you want from the next season of this show because I could go on for literal HOURS about it. Possibly days. I have a problem.

Series spoilers below, fairly be ye warned!

Seriously, the thing I want to see more than almost anything else is dealing more with the fact that Barnaby had his memories manipulated for twenty years and there is a non-zero chance that he may know more about Ouroboros than even he knows. Like I am 100% dead serious, I have been thinking about this for months, lemme tell you about it.

So this is after The Rising, so probably what, 2-3 years since the end of the series? And my headcanon has always been that the longer Maverick is dead, the more his powers start to fade, so anybody who had their memories altered that hasn’t already broken the block is starting to get back the memories of what really happened.

And whose memories did Maverick fuck with the most? Barnaby’s!

And who was Maverick working with for 20-30 years before he died? Ouroboros! *jazz hands*

Let’s say Maverick was having a meeting with people from Ouroboros in his house a couple of years after he took bb!Barnaby in and bb!Barnaby walks in and overhears some of their plans. No big deal, Maverick just wipes his memory and puts him upstairs in bed, and assures everybody else that the kid won’t remember a thing and they’re all good to go.

Now, decades later, Ouroboros is moving one of their people into a political position, like they’re running for mayor or governor or they’ve been named the new chief of police. Doesn’t matter. And one of them—could be a fixer-type figure, could be the person actually being moved into the position of power, again, doesn’t matter—finds out these memory manipulations are fading and that people are remembering things they shouldn’t remember.

And the person who is moving into the position of power is one of the people who was at that Ouroboros meeting with Maverick that Barnaby walked in on all those years ago. So they realize that if Maverick’s power is fading, they have a Big Problem because the McFucking King of Heroes and Media Darling, Barnaby Brooks Jr., knows about their involvement in this organization and if he reveals that, they’re kind of screwed.

So they’ve got someone low-key keeping an eye on Barnaby to see if he is remembering anything, and they find out yes, he is. Probably something like remembering a birthday dinner that he thought Maverick took him out for when he was young but it turns out it was Aunt Samantha. And so Ouroboros realizes it’s only a matter of time before he remembers them and they set out to fix this.

And by “fix” I mean “blow up Barnaby’s apartment with him in it.”

So the heroes are sent to the site of the explosion to help evacuate other people from the apartment building while the fire department is trying to control the fire, and Kotetsu knows when he hears the address that that’s Bunny’s building, but it’s not until Agnes tells him privately that he finds out the bomb was actually in Bunny’s apartment and Bunny hasn’t been responding to his communicator.

He handles this news slightly better than Barnaby would have if their positions were reversed, but not by much.

They get to the building, Kotetsu goes after Bunny and finds him unconscious and buried under rubble in his apartment, but he’s alive. He gets him out of the building and down to an ambulance and is torn between going with Bunny (because it’s Bunny) and staying to help out the others (because he’s a hero and he’s supposed to be helping people right now).

And of course all of his friends yell at him to go with his partner, to trust them, they’ve got this; besides, Barnaby is going to need him.

So Barnaby wakes up in the hospital twelve hours later to see Kotetsu passed the fuck out in one of those hospital chairs in what looks like the most uncomfortable position ever. And then he wakes up and he’s like BUNNY! and scrambles upright and they do That Look, you know the one, the soft goddamn “I miss you/I love you” look they have:

(I literally can’t even with this show, I can’t. THESE WEREN’T EVEN MY ONLY OPTIONS FOR SCREENSHOTS.)

ANYWAY the other heroes are also there by this time, Barnaby tells them all what he remembers about the apartment exploding and they figure out that someone probably wants Barnaby dead, although they have no idea who and why. And initially Barnaby’s like “I’ll just get a hotel room,” Kotetsu is like “NO. You should not be staying alone right now. You should be staying with one of us until we figure out who’s trying to kill you.”

And Barnaby thinks about it for 2.5 seconds and goes “Then I guess I can stay with you.”

And that’s how Barnaby ends up moving in with Kotetsu because if this damn show gave me accidental baby acquisition, amnesia, single dad, enemies to lovers, and breakup/makeup (TWICE), then by God, they can give me roommates and forced bed sharing.

(Does Kotetsu go back to the exploded apartment and rescue everything that he can that he knows is important to Barnaby? Of fucking course he does, which is how Barnaby ends up with a box containing the Christmas tree pin, the picture of his parents, the robot toy, and the singed stuffed rabbit.)

So the entire big storyline is Kotetsu, Barnaby, and the other heroes trying to figure out who wants Barnaby dead and why, while Ouroboros is moving forward with their own plans without the heroes’ knowledge.

And throughout all this, Barnaby and Kotetsu are trying to figure out how to live with each other in Kotetsu’s little apartment, when Barnaby’s never had a roommate and it’s been close to 10 years since Kotetsu was sharing his space with anybody (let alone someone who’s as compulsively clean as Barnaby is), and Barnaby is dealing with random memories resurfacing at inconvenient times.

I still have not decided if I want Kotetsu’s powers to start fading again, because on the one hand fuck no, but on the other hand, it does make for some delicious angst and pushes him back to that question of “what do I do if I lose my powers completely?” (And who knows, maybe this time around he would actually talk to Barnaby about it instead of hiding it for months on end.)

OTHER THINGS the series would include, if I had anything to say about it:

- A Rock Bison episode, which would also involve flashbacks to high school with how Kotetsu and Antonio met, plus teenage Tomoe and some more very unsubtle parallels between her and Barnaby and how Kotetsu has A Type.

- A Sky High episode with A HAPPY ENDING YOU ASSHOLES, GIVE KEITH A ROMANTIC PARTNER AND 50 DOGS *slams fists on table*

- Kotetsu dealing with the fact that Kaede is a teenager now (probably 14-15, depending on timeline), who’s probably learning how to drive and is looking seriously at what she wants to do when she finishes high school. Probably at least one somewhat heart-wrenching conversation between him and his mom where she talks about how it felt for her when Kotetsu was that age and possibly a little bit about his father. (Give me some more goddamn Kaburagi family feels, okay, Sunrise, just fuck me up with them.)

- A subplot that is Barnaby and the other heroes doing their level best to get Kotetsu enough points to be King of Heroes at the end of the season, without Kotetsu or Agnes figuring out what they’re doing.

- Kotetsu going to the orphanage with Barnaby and helping out with the kids there.

- KOTETSU BIRTHDAY EPISODE. Please please give me an episode that’s the reverse of episode 5, where it’s Barnaby low-key freaking out over what to get Kotetsu for a gift because it has to be perfect and he’s got nothing.

- I literally just finished reading Sakakibara’s manga last night, so maybe an episode or a mini-arc dealing with some of the anti-NEXT sentiment. We got some of that in the first series, but it would be interesting to see it brought out a little bit more and seeing the heroes having to deal more with that (and maybe some non-hero NEXTs as well).

- A flashback episode showing how all the main heroes became heroes.

- Kotetsu and Barnaby cooking fried rice together please I am begging.

- Barnaby going with Kotetsu to Oriental Town to visit his family when they’ve got a few days off (or maybe they’re told to get out of town for a few days because of all the Ouroboros stuff), with Barnaby learning more about Tomoe and being quietly supportive of Kotetsu the way that Kotetsu has always been supportive of him.

- I would love to see more of Barnaby and Kaede interacting because I really think they would get along swimmingly.

- A girls’ night out/guys’ night out episode split between Fire Emblem, Dragon Kid, Barnaby, and Blue Rose and Origami Cyclone, Sky High, Rock Bison, and Kotetsu. (Conversely, this could happen while Barnaby and Kotetsu are out of town, and just focus on the other heroes, but I would really like to see Barnaby being friends and doing stuff with the others, not just Kotetsu.)

- I don’t know how everything would shake out, but it would end with Barnaby just…staying in Kotetsu’s apartment rather than moving back out, his picture of his parents joining the row of photos Kotetsu has on his shelves, and them drinking champagne together on the front steps of the apartment building, side-by-side.

- Okay I mean obviously my shipper heart wants it to end with a kiss and a marriage proposal but I feel like the previous point is more likely.

Seriously I just want everything from this series. Throw the kitchen sink at me, Sunrise, my body is ready.

#banikrim #M answers #Tiger & Bunny #Tiger and Bunny #M writes not!fic #kind of #good lord that got long #I'm sorry #HOPE YOU EXPECTED A DISSERTATION IN RESPONSE TO THAT ASK

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inkspottie · 5 years

Text

(The void sure have no mercy on my asks and they does ate away the asks that contain another idea about aftermath on Henry's heals from angel feather poison. I resend it in submission, btw sorry if this spamming you.)

Getting healing from the weak/dulled angelic poison, for the demons, it somehow work like getting vaccination, for their body or their nature to get use on holy object or place. Sure the holy object/place are less effect after the demons successful bypass the aftermath after the angelic poison get into their system.

This is a very dangerous process to demon, since there is high risk to get kill or not survive if the angelic poison entered into demonic body system. Very few success since mostly the demons who dare to try this end up get killed due to sickness like burning inside out and reach to fatal temperature that the demonic body can't handle. Even though those who manage over the risk, they end up too weak and need a safer place to recover and regain their power and strength, which rise another risk for getting kill by other enemy.

Henry are very lucky due to few facts:

- One, the angelic poison that used by the poisoner is an angel feather, more specific, Sammy's one. Since Sammy is not a fully angle, his angelic effect actually does dulled, a lot.

- Two, Henry is not born as demon, nor has demonic ancestor on his family tree, he is turn to a demon due to lack of his soul, thus he actually still has lots of human side inside him.

- Three, after deage as the child and weaked by the poison, Henry are safe (mostly) until he fully recover thank to the protection from his wife and friends. (ps: not sure this would happen in your story or not but ehh...)

So after the poison incident, there is positive side on Henry:

- He can touch Sammy, or other religion/holy items without getting serious burn, but it still feel uncomfortable to him, sometimes he feel pins and needles, or a static shock when he touch them. Also he can't hold too long because they still hurt him.

- He can stay in religion/holy place, but not too long, 15 minutes are the limit before he get a very serious headache.

- Holy name are less effect on him now, but don't shout out loud, that still hurts his ears and mess up his hearing.

- He actually getting stronger (and tougher) after fully healing from this incidents. Also, it actually unlock his true final form, but he still unaware that. But the time will tell.

...

No no youre good!!! Stupid tumblr has been a pain in my ass for this past few months. I swear this site is made out of glitter glue and popsicle sticks. 🙄

But ooo I do like the idea of it being like a sort of vaccination of sorts. Gives him a slight immunity since it’s in his system and all that jazz

#but i do like it!!!#im still debating on the deaged thing #since it seemed like some were uncomfortable with the idea of it #but i love it!#you always come up with interesting concepts #spottie answers #about reluctant demon #submission

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drdanwrites · 7 years

Text

Magical Office Episode 9: Last Christmas PART 1

PART 1 OF THE “Season” Finale.... oh...and btw... Sorry...NOT sorry! ;)

(Milton enters the office, his briefcase floating behind him. There are papers overflowing from the case. Milton walks up to his office door and tries to open it. The knob is locked and he moans in annoyance while he takes out his wand. He mutters alohomora and opens the door. There are bags under Milton’s eyes as he walks into the room. The walls are filled with pictures of Grindelwald, news paper clippings and maps. All connected by red string. He finally makes it to his desk and his briefcase falls to the desktop. He sits in his chair for a moment before noticing a red and green wrapped box. There is a perfect silver bow on the top of it. Milton’s face seems to lift as he brings the box closer to him, knocking papers off the desk in the process. He lifts the tag hanging off the bow closer. The camera zooms in to show that the tag reads: DO NOT OPEN BEFORE CHRISTMAS.)

INTERVIEW WITH NEWT

Newt: Milton has been swamped lately with the Grindelwald cases that have been plaguing the ministry for a couple of days. It was his own fault really. When Parkinson told the aurors that they would have to be working overtime to try and capture Grindelwald, Milton begged the Minister to let him do the work at no extra pay.

(Side scene were Minister Parkinson is in a meeting with all the Auror’s and assistants. Inaudibly Minister Parkinson is telling the aurors about the overtime and Milton stands up explaining to the Minister that he would take on the burden. The Minister then shrugs at Milton in agreement. Milton suddenly starts crying, grateful for the opportunity. He then tries to hug the Minister, who quickly tries to pull him off.)

Newt: In the spirit of the Christmas season, I decided to leave a little package for Milton. Although Y/N has asked me to take it easy on Milton this holiday season, I’ve decided to do a little bit of naughty and a little bit of nice. Hopefully Milton is a good boy and follows the instructions, or he might not like his gift too much.

(Newt turns around in his chair and stares out the window of the conference room. The camera focuses on Milton’s office door. There is silence followed by a loud growl and a sudden scream as Milton suddenly bursts through his office door, wrestling with a murtlap that has obviously bit him once or twice. The murtlap is then tossed to the ground and quickly scurries off. Newt laughs to himself, mischievously. He turns back to the camera. His face changes from entertained to reassurance.)

Newt: Not to worry. He’ll be fine. It’s not like flames are flying out of his anus or anything.

(The camera goes back to focusing on Milton, who rubs his neck yelling for Newt. Suddenly he grabs his stomach and looks extremely uncomfortable. A large thick flame of fire, erupts out of Milton’s butt. Newt looks back in horrific shock. Biggles, who had just nearly missed being burned alive by Milton fart flamethrower, holds the murtlap in his arms. The murtlap purrs and snuggles tenderly into Biggles embrace.)

Newt: Oh...oh… dear excuse me. (He quickly gets up from his seat and runs out to assist with Milton, who continues to fart more flames. Newt quickly retrieves the antidote from his pocket and administers it to Milton. After hearing the commotion you come out of your office with Bridget. You both jump back as flames pass in front of you.)

Milton: SCAMANDER!!! (The after effects of the murtlap bite have calmed down and the flames have subsided. Milton lays on the floor trying to recoup from being a human torch. Newt looks to you, you display a very displeased face and Newt knows he is in trouble, but hopefully not for long. He looks down at Milton and shrugs.)

Newt: Happy Christmas? Better luck next year…

INTERVIEW WITH BIGGLES

(Biggles sits in the conference room. He wears a ugly christmas sweater that reads “Kiss me I’m a Grandma”. He is also covered from head to toe in christmas ornaments. Different coloured bobbles are pinned all over him and he has christmas tree lights wrapped around his entire body. They glimmer and are almost blinding as he fidgets in his chair, acting like a child waiting to open presents on Christmas day.)

Biggles: IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!!! (He throws his arms into the air and splashes his fingers out, going into a jazz hands position.) I am a HUGE fan of muggle Christmas. As you can see I’m decorated in the traditional muggle christmas attire. Muggles decorate themselves with shiny ornaments and other trinkets. Of course I’ve saved the best of last. (He bends down and retrieves from the floor a headband that has a giant bobbling star. He puts in on his head.) TA-DA!

Director: (From behind the camera) Are you sure you’re not supposed to put that stuff on the tree?

(Biggles laughs and looks down at himself and moves around some of his decorations)

Biggles: Don’t be silly. My tree has a red and white suit on.

END OF BIGGLES INTERVIEW

(The next scene sees Newt and you in your office. You sit at your desk, writing up more reports that Newt needs done. He is mixing potions together on a desk in the back of his office. Periodically he scribbles down several things and go back to mixing and pouring. You cautiously look back at him and wonder what he is mixing up. You look at the camera, giving a weak smile.)

INTERVIEW WITH Y/N

Y/N: Ever since I had that conversation with Rodger back on Halloween, I’ve had this thought about Newt giving me a love potion stuck in my mind. I mean he is constantly mixing up stuff and I don’t know what is in my drinks. He gives me a tea every single day. How do I know there isn’t something in there? (You pause as you chew on your thumb nail nervously) Damn it Rodger for putting this thought in my brain, but isn’t it crazy how fast we seem to be moving? (You ask but not to anyone in particular. You look back at Newt’s office door.) I just love that man so much….I’m just worried it’s not real.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH Y/N

(Newt walks over to your desk as you look up at him. He places a cup of tea on the end of your desk. You feel a cool sweat immediately rush over you as you nervously look between him and the cup. Newt looks at you confused.)

Newt: It’s just tea. Thought you could use it as you’ve let the other 4 cups I’ve given you this week go cold.

Y/N: Yeah… thanks sweetie… I’m not… I’m just not into tea right now.

Newt: (Newt looks taken aback) Oh...since when?

Y/N: Just felt like shaking it up I guess.

(Newt laughs and kisses the top of your head. You smile brightly at the physical affirmation of love. He kneels down next you and you turn to face him. He smiles meaningfully as he takes your hand.)

Newt: You are truly going to love your Christmas present.

(You laugh and run a hand through his hair.)

Y/N: Is that so? Well how do you know that my present isn’t the best you’ll receive?

(Newt kisses your hand and holds your hand there for sometime. It melts your worries as the love potion notion leaves your mind.)

Newt: I don’t think you could give me anything better than your love.

(You lean down and give Newt a meaningful kiss, thanking him for his unconditional love. He reciprocates the kiss, placing his hands on either side of your face, running his thumbs slowly up and down your cheeks.)

Newt: (He comes out of the kiss.) I love you Y/N.

(You smile still hazy from the kiss, not sure if you should answer.)

Y/N: I-I love you too, Newt.

INTERVIEW WITH Y/N

(You sit in the conference room chair, your eyes stare at the ground as you smile widely. After a time of daydreaming, you look back at the camera).

Y/N: I’m being crazy. That kiss… (You trace your lips lightly with your fingertips.) Well, that was definitely real.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH Y/N

(Newt walks back over to his desk. He pulls out a drawer and looks back and you. When he sees you have gone back to work, he takes out the black ring box he had been looking forward to giving to you. He looks up at the camera and grins.)

INTERVIEW WITH NEWT

Newt: Normally I wouldn’t share my intimate thoughts with any of you, but I just can’t seem to contain myself…. (He smiles wildly and looks excitedly around as he thinks of the best way to say what he is going to say. When words fail him, he bites the corner of his lip and looks back up into the camera). I’m going to propose to Y/N during the Ministry Christmas party. (He holds his palms up to stop anyone in the room from saying anything.) I know what you might think. It may seem too soon… but… but not for us. Everything is just perfect and this is going to make the perfect start to the new year. When she says yes… that...that right there will be the best Christmas present she could ever give me.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH NEWT

(Claire stands outside of Bridget’s office. She is holding two tea cups with saucers. A bottle of fire whiskey floats in front of her. It starts to pour it’s contents into the two cups. Once the liquid stops flowing, two spoons begin to stir their assigned cups. As the spoons continue to mix the liquids together, Claire opens the door to expose the camera to the depressed mess inside. Bridget sits at her desk, crumbled into a sobbing heap, used tissues almost bury her. The echoes of her hysterical cries fills the room. Her shrine to Minister Parkinson is torn to shreds and only pieces remain clinging to the walls. Claire places one of the fire whiskey teas on Bridget’s desk and looks up at the drink. Her face is red and swollen. Her eyes are pink and her eye makeup has run all over her face. Bridget grabs a tissue and blows her nose loudly and sniffs her airway clear. As she grabs the drink, a hiccup escapes her lips and she downs the drink in mere seconds.)

Claire: (Stands in the corner still stirring her tea) Don’t worry ma’dear. It’ll get easier. Minister is a tosser.

Bridget: (Begins to sob uncontrollably again.) NO HE’S NOT. HE’S BEE--BEE--BEAUTIFUL!!!! (She drunkenly bumps her head on the desk and begins her cries all over again.)

(Claire casually sips on her tea and looks into the camera.)

Claire: (Whispers to the camera) That’s her 9th glass. I’m gonna start charging her soon.

(A knock on the door makes both women look up to see a secretly timid Minister. He looks around the room, making himself feel even worse for what he’s about to say.)

Minister Parkinson: Umm… hello there…

INTERVIEW WITH MINISTER PARKINSON

Minister Parkinson: Christmas time is a big deal around the Ministry. Our Party Planners spend all year getting our Ministry Christmas Gala in order and making sure everything is perfect. Of course everything must be signed off by yours truly. Anyway, every Ministry worker is invited and therefore.. I must… (He blows out air, feeling uncomfortable with his situation) make sure certain individuals who have recently experienced heartache by my hand behave themselves… not causing a scene in front of… other such ministry workers… such as….such as my wife.

END OF INTERVIEW WITH MINISTER PARKINSON

(Bridget and Minister Parkinson stare at each other and then both look back at Claire, who is still looking down at her tea and not getting the hint that was placed before her. Suddenly feeling all eyes on her she looks up.)

Minister Parkinson: I do apologise if I’m interrupting something, but I was hoping to speak to Bridget alone.

(Claire still stares at the Minister blankly. Bridget drunkenly stands up, knocking used tissues everywhere.)

Bridget: GET OUT! (Claire quickly get the hint and quickly dashes from the room. Closing the door behind her. Bridget awkwardly tries to stand and leans sexily on her desk, but ends up slipping on a tissue and lands flat on her desktop.) What..wh.a...what can I do for you Mrs….Mister… married person Parkinson.

(Minister Parkinson slams a palm to his face as he walks over to Bridget.)

Minister Parkinson: Now Bridget... I understand you are hurt… and… I’m terribly sorry if you didn’t understand our… arrangement… however, tonight, I would like your word that you will… sorry Bridget what are you doing?

(Bridget is crawling on the table over to the Minister, who is standing in front of her desk. She quickly fumbles over the edge of the desk and falls to the floor. Minister Parkinson bends down to helps her off the ground. He holds her in his arms for a moment. Bridget sobers up a little and looks pitifully into his eyes.)

Bridget: I miss you. (She brings a hand up to his cheek. The Minister leans into the touch for a moment, but upon realising it he quickly moves his head away and captures her wrist and brings it down.)

Minister Parkinson: Bridge… please. We can’t. I can’t. I shouldn’t have even started… this. I just need you to forget about this and not make a scene. I’m married and..and...and...

(Bridget edges her face closer and closer to Parkinson’s lips. Suddenly the two of them begin feverishly kissing each other. They move over to the desk and with one sweep of his arm the Minister clears the desk the two continue to kiss as they clamber onto the desktop. The camera fades out.)

(Milton looks around. He still looks completely exhausted, but is dressed formally for the gala. He walks across the room to Rodger and Claire’s office. He knocks but there are no answer, he doesn’t look up from the papers in his hands as he opens the door and walks in. Claire is asleep in the corner snoring loudly. Milton rolls his eyes and walks over to Rodger’s desk. The top of it is covered in various papers and folders. Milton walks around and sits in Rodger’s chair looking through the various piles for the forms he needs from Rodger. He shifts through until he finds a bottle hidden among the mess. He lifts the bottle up in the air and peers closely at it. The camera zooms in on the label. The words RESTRICTED is written across it. Milton instantly realises what this means and turns to open the different drawers in the desk. He opens one and pulls out another bottle, RESTRICTED is also printed around it.)

Milton: Ahhhh…. Rodger… what a tangled web you weave…

(The knob turns and Milton quickly looks up to see the office door opening. In a flash, he places the two bottles in his pocket and collects his papers. Rodger enters with his formal wear hanging off his arm. As he takes sight of Milton, he jumps back.)

Rodger: Milton! (He takes a closer look at the scene and looks suspiciously at Milton.) Can I help you with something?

(Milton returns the suspicious stare, not sure he can trust his coworker.)

Milton: Why yes...yes you can, Rodger. I’m in need of the warrant paperwork for Grindelwald.

(Rodger walks over past Milton and begins to shift through the same piles as Milton. In a moment, he finds what he is looking for and with a flick, hands it off to Milton. The two stare at each other, with an unspoken questionable glare, their eyes narrow as the paper gets passed from one hand to another. Milton shuffles the loose paper with the others in his hand. They continue to stand in front of each other.)

Milton: They are still looking for Grindelwald, but they think they have an idea where he has gone. There is talk he could have gone to New York.

Rodger: Interesting.

Milton: Yes… but I think what’s more interesting is that we still have yet to catch the person who broke into the restricted potions lab.

(Milton looks for any sign of a guilty conscious in Rodger’s stare.)

Rodger: Well I’m sure they will catch the culprit soon, especially with you on the case.

(When no guilt flashes on his face, Milton nods carefully.)

Milton: Yes….well...I suppose I’ll see you down at the gala. (Rodger nods and Milton walks carefully backwards out of the room. He continues to lock eyes with Rodger. Eventually, Milton reaches the door and his hand begins to pat down the door, looking for the knob. Rodger gives him an odd look, questioning why he won’t just turn around. Milton’s hand lands on the knob and he gives it an awkward turn as he scoots around the doors edge and slowly disappears from sight. Claire still snoring loudly in the corner.)

(Newt paces in the break room in front of the women’s bathroom. He is already dressed in his formal clothes, his hands are buried deep in his pocket and his hand fidgets as it holds the ring box inside. It twists and turns, it feels heavy and he can’t wait to give it to you this evening. The men’s room bathroom opens and Rodger walks out, adjusting his cufflinks. His eyes peer over at Newt and gives him a smirk.)

Rodger: Looking good, Newty.

Newt: You too, Rodger. Listen, (He manages to take his hands out of his pocket and holds it out to Rodger.) No hard feelings, I’m aware of your feelings for Y/N and I just hope we can move past this.

(Rodger continues to adjust is other cuff link as he looks down at Newt’s hand. A disgusted smirk erases his amused one and he faintly laughs at Newt’s peace treaty. Putting his wrist down finally satisfied with his appearance he pats his chest, to indicate something is in his chest pocket. He stumbles backwards a few steps.)

Rodger: Better luck next time, Salamander.

(Newt looks at him awkwardly as he continues to walk out the door of the break room. Newt turns around, now trying to figure out what Rodger could have meant and what was in his breast pocket. High heels bring him back and he turns to see you in your red dress.)

Y/N: How do I look? (You give him a quick turn, your heels clicking on the floor as they assist you in your twirl.)

(Newt stares at you. He is unable to move. His eyes just take you all in, every inch and every curve. You can’t help but laugh at how baffled he seems to be.)

Y/N: Newt? Are you in there? (You wave your hand to interrupt his trance.)

(Newt blinks twice and runs up to your immediately, he takes you in his arms and with one arm bracing your back, he takes his other hand and places it on your cheek, positioning you perfectly for a passionately intense kiss. In this kiss he hopes to make you feel everything you’ve made him feel in the past couple months. Sadness, happiness, annoyance, absolute peace and lust. You come out of the kiss and look into each other’s eyes.)

Newt: I want to exchange gifts now.

Y/N: Now? (You giggle.) But what about the gala? It’ll be starting now.

Newt: I don’t care. It can wait.

Y/N: Mine is in the office, come on.

(Your office is dimly lit with a mere desk lamp as your only source of light. Opening your desk drawer, you retrieve the your gift, wrapped in a bow. Newt walks up to your desk, a hand still in his pocket. You hand the package over to Newt. He carefully removes his hand from his pocket and takes the parcel. The wrapping comes off quickly and opens the box. A black circular disk, almost resembling a hockey puck emerges. Newt looks at your questioningly. You take out your wand.)

Y/N: Memoria (You say the incantation and a hologram like image appears over the black circle. There flashes scenes of Newt and you laughing together, kissing each other and goofing off. The last image to flicker is one of you saying ‘I love you’ and flashing a quick kiss. When it finishes playing, Newt’s face alights with appreciation.)

Newt: It’s absolutely perfect.

(You jump up on your desk and swing your legs as you lean forward, bracing yourself on your arms. Newt takes the black circle and puts it in his coat pocket.)

Y/N: Merry Christmas

Newt: Thank you, love.

(You both give each other a quick peck.)

Y/N: Okay. I'm ready. (You shuffle back and forth preparing yourself for Newt's gift. He smiles and blows out all the air from his lungs.)

Newt: Okay, well you know I am usually not one for words. Quite frankly long speeches never seem to come from the heart, so I’ll get to the point. I love you. There isn’t anything else I can say. All my life I never needed anyone, but now, if I didn’t have you in my life… I’m not quite sure how I could go on. I’d do anything to keep you as happy as you are tonight. (Newt slowly takes the source of his distraction out of his pocket and purposefully gets down on one knee.) I promise to live my life with you as the priority….my job and creatures a very close second. (He opens the black ring box to reveal a ring in the shape of a long slender dragon. The dragon’s head and tail are wrapped around a subtle diamond. You gasp audibly, your hands clasped around your mouth to hold back any other sounds.)

Will you marry me, Y/N?

FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN MAGICAL OFFICE EPISODE 10: LAST CHRISTMAS PART 2

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mebeingserious · 7 years

Text

(c.) End 2012 - Early 2013

- - #1

#Based On A You Story. Blinking cursor.

Peep my Doogie Howser blue screen. Peep my blue light. No bloc festivities, streamers, or tails to pin anything on. Pin that shit on yourself, B. Take responsibility.

“Pin The Tail” had a Max B verse on the original. Do with that knowledge what you will if what you will do is reimburse me for my strong miscellany-fact-brain game. I refined it through the arthritis of those on my personal Mt. Rushmore.

I’m unknowable, really. You should get to un-know me.

And it was an inside job, btw. Egged on by the peanut gallery, flipped the switch, gave you a parachute and some mumble-mumble about how the chlorophyll’s gonna be stunning.

I’m just another human cat, word to Grass Green. Don’t treat me like the grassy knoll. Leave them stones turnt all the way down.

But that “you” isn’t you, that’s you’s on you’s on you’s. UUU, if you will. Gotta not have it.

New swatch alert. Here. Peep the texture and the hues. That’s the interior.

Cam’ron in a Utah Jazz throwback staring back at me through a phone’s reflection. [||]. You right, you right.

Captain Quirk but the Captain Crunch Dog at the same damn time. Pretend it’s two months ago, though.

Your last.fm recent plays leave you vulnerable, if you think about it. I thought about it.

I need to remind myself I don’t do this for the little or the big dunns. Everyone needs to get their Lex Luger on from time to time. B.Y. Before Yokozuna.

So I say that to say this: “Can’t call it, might spoil it”

Performing tune-ups with some VBRs and possibly, 192s. You can only crash so many planes before you start frisking yourself in the airport.

Further and farther are in full effect. But then I remember “that’s when the money starts running” and Stoicism, and put it in hands I once knocked down.

- - #2

Spot ‘em, got ‘em. I got dirt on you, doggie.

But God made dirt and dirt bust your ass.

Or my ass. I know too much. Internal Spy vs. Spy.

I saw those stars. Had my radars up. Tangible air.

One minute it’s in the constellations, the next sixty-seconds it’s a “Superthug” if.

Hella.

No, not you. The other. But you? You’re putting together a 150-piece in the dark.

Me? S.O.L. S.O.S. But I’m like Private Ryan. So you can save that.

Oh wait, I forgot that motherfucker survived.

Anyways, haardships.

My window’s been closed but at least I have a window. But it’s lowkey amazing that a window is even a thing.

I just did what Game did with the coaching of the fat producer on ironing Dickies. But you don’t hear me, doe.

Do you hear me, doe? This is the Gawd.

He doesn’t take requests but he’ll play me, though.

But really, I did that. Sorta like what Kane said on “The Symphony.”

Anyways, indecision.

He who hesitates in peace is even worse.

The pyramids didn’t get built by throwing stones or sitting on them. But I fucked up when I entertained the E.T. theory.

I’m the man now, dog. But really, without the seven you’re not Sean Connery. You’re just…

Anyways, alternate universes. That exist in shared thought bubbles.

But that’s the only place they ever existed, nah?

But let’s thought experiment. Does that outcome satisfy?

Or is it just better than hearing a single echo against drywall?

I can give you advice on farther but my track record is a stumble out the blocks paired with a horizontal starting gun, finished off with a somersault. 1.0 - 1.0 - 1.0

Got gotted and spotted.

Need is whatever you think it is.

But try to take my arm and leg and I might be that shoe with the band between the big toe.

You can have a symphony composed of c-notes in that porcelain but if you don’t embrace that internal Hammer … well. Basslines don’t come across well in sign.

You can go on and be Big L’s Rocafella debut, but you don’t know voodoo.

But tangible is good. I mean, Tough Luv holds up pretty well eight years later.

I guess I misunderstood that originally. Or I tried to understand too soon. He was right when he said “…or rather me.”

- - #3

The last verse on “Pyramids” without the sonic context.

Strikes Back. In the Empire. They say it’s their favorite flick.

Swore my hand waved to me as it fell, in that “Hi, Hater” motion.

Took off that mask and it was a mirror. No disrespect but there’s truth to it.

Anton Chigurh in the guidance counselor’s office basically saying “heads or tails.”

Saw it with the old man. In the alt. section of the universe it was Batman Returns.

Trying to lucid dream about the Northwest in 1996, but I’m better off sleeping. And peeping those trees with the date emblazoned in a reddish orange beneath their stumps.

Subsidized Napoleon complex had me fighting on the wrong side. Got did like Waterloo.

Manila envelopes addressed to that British newspaper. Don’t you know this is the Empire?

Telepathy returned to sender.

Heard “boo” from that pocket-sized frame.

But ghosts only come for your wig when you turn your back.

“Whoa” ain’t me, that’s Black Rob.

Speaking of that song…

Come to terms with endearment.

You chose the ball and you joined me in breadth.

Another one chewing dead skin, dirt particles and textile fibers.

Carly Simon. Bet.

What came first, the wound or the egg that provided the shells that were stuck in the soles?

South West here like Northern OH. Something something “talent.”

Indecisive travel agent that forgot to build a plane.

I saw the white plates, the blue plates, and now they’re yellow. i.e. I’ve seen the Empire crumble.

Let an ocean talk for me.

What the fuck is portamento? Not worth it.

Waking up to a foreign vocabulary test. Appealing. No comprende.

Opted-in because I was loyal to the wrong things. Minus the fuckboy-isms.

He was the Pookie of venlafaxine.

Caesar: Judas.

Conversational anesthesia. Was on that Freud shit.

Liked the yellow yoshi that stomped and the one with wings.

And you can tell a lot about a man by how he uses a warp whistle. Button on the VCR.

Meant to hear Tiến Quân Ca in person but couldn’t. If he saw the inland, I wouldn’t.

Lucas Arts revisionist tip. Script = flipped. And now…

Telling the emperor “We don’t need to see all that.” I’ll say it.

And maybe worth it. But no capitulation. The sign fixed.

- Carly.

“You, Me, Him and Her” gets played twice.

The first one’s near Luxor, prolly.

Gut snitched.

Us couldn’t stop dreaming, then I couldn’t get to sleep. Both.

“I fuck around and have you sleeping underneath something”

But that last verse, though.

- - #4

Pop culture hustling and cocaine references are the way to my heart. My heart is sullen and abandoned; full of un-shatterable Pyrex-brand measuring cups.

Or is it. Racially ambiguous inquisition. Internal. In-terminal, I keep ticking. So, maybe occupied.

Don’t knock it. I’m taking out this time. To compose choppy sentences that stop before they start because I’m so non-fiction I might call myself Tumblr Game Tom Wolfe.

Looking back, YN really inspired me with his Letters From The Editor. But nah to that “Ha!”

Flirting with disaster because she sent me a flick. Y’all are too literal. Down to the ‘I’m so crazy.’

Meanings on top of meanings. Princess and the Pea. That now archaic Jay-Z and Kanye interplay. References need a new hard drive. They’re making that grindin’, too busy to stay up-to-date sound.

I’m not looking at your dues, I’m looking past you. Why are ghosts see-through but you can’t see through what you can see.

Peter Piper was too fucking picky. End of story. Citing Antwan Patton in MLA style. If you want the references, you gotta pay for this. I accept Juelz. Pay the pause forward.

Subtle is my subtitle. You can read or watch. An internet quiz will tell you what that means for you and your personality.

John on the run eating. But wasn’t gaining.

Acting like shenanigans in loosie, but there was no explaining.

No, no, no. I’m not you, rapper.

Jesus H. Pylori. The church of disrupted insulin function and latter day faints.

Glue where the flex be. Vampires that never heard about the smallpox blankets. Paul’s Boutique sample count. Dust, brother. Trying not to bite down.

That admittance, and the small BIC. Alluhdat.

Three letters. Now I feel alluhdat.

Maybe knowing in retrospect is the win. Like when they extend those legs and and hold their hands in a state-enforced half-hearted semi-prayer position saying “I hope this provides closure for your family.”

A & B convos. Split-tests. More like a two and eight.

Good things surface for those that hold elevators. Or something.

Lost the top about fitty-leven times. No lojack. Find it, then repeat. Dementia. Kojack.

No lolli. Point the finger, no Rollie. No handle, no bars. Just folly.

Was on that “If I die, I die.” Life Game Ivan Drago.

Try to be a fatalist. Unexciting Mortal Kombat finishers.

Marcus Aurelius darts onto the screen to kill the opponent with mercy.

No hip hop genius to help you. Y’all Nah Right sidebar. Newsy. Your quotient can’t save thee. Or thou. Or you. Let’s say you.

Because I’m like Jason Bourne asking himself about that one birthday party when he was an age that gets spelled out by the Associated Press. Hope unseen sequels don’t kill my simile.

We’re all trying to live facsimile’s meaning if you said it quick. Gender neutral, though.

Don’t, doe.

Because reflection requires dedication. Three’s ain’t always charming. There’s precedent. See the millionaire trying to kickflip.

I’m not a walking version of the back of the teacher’s edition history/sociology/psychology combo cost-saving textbook.

Slight of hand. Converse with it.

Phonte’s monologues on the last two from Get Back.

That’s the point. Nipsey Russell.

#writing #1-4

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