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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

Note

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently.  And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”  “What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

#father-son bonding au #dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #everybody talks #really happy with this one even if it took Way Too Fucking Long

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ellewords · 3 years

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HI ELLE IM SORRY I ALMOST FORGOT TO REPLY BACK I FORGOT TUMBLR EXISTED (i was about to sleep coz its around 6:30 or something but like suddenly ur icon popped up in my head and oHMYGOD)

HOW HAVE U BEEN!!! I READ UR RECENT WORKS AND THE COLLEGE TSUKKI ONE WAS SO AMAZING LIKE SERIOUSLY IT WAS SOOOO GOOD.

ANYWAYS UR A SEULGI STAN??? ngl that actually does make sense. i was betting either her or joy omg. BUT IM A YERI STAN AND THE WAY THEY STYLED HER AND EVERY OTHER RV MEMBER THIS ERA WAS ACTUALLY DECENT THIS CB WAS A GOOD COMEBACK ESPECIALLY FOR THEIR EXTREMELY LONG HIATUS HHH (quick whats ur favourite bside in queendom and in their overall discography mine is i just and la rouge)

and actually i feel like u might be the type to like building tiny houses :o and if u do feel like starting it i highly recommend something simple (if im right, theres this one house called happy times from a brand(?) named flever the curtains pissed me off but it was sooo worth it and simple)

ALSO ARE U CAUGHT UP IN HOSPITAL PLAYLIST??? COZ (spoiler alert if not) OMG IKSUN AND JUNWAN’S RECENT INTERACTIONS MAKE MY HEART BEAT FASTER ESP THE ONE WHERE THEY WERE IN THE ER IDK WHY BUT IM A WH0RE FOR HONEST CONVERSATIONS LIKE THOSE. AND OMG IKSONG??? THE ANGSTY IKSONG FLASHBACK SCENE MADE ME FEEL FOR SONGHWA AAA i really hope it all works out in the end all five of them are so funny and unique and nice in their own ways they deserve to be happy :(

MODERN FAMILY !!! the ending is so upsetting in a mostly positive way and cAN I JUST SAY I RARELY CRY WHEN I WATCH SOMETHING BUT THIS!!! it took me three days before i could think about the ending scene without having any tears form in my eyes good GOD. my sister and i started b99 recently and we made it to s4 rn and honestly i am so glad to see a show where they can actually make lgbtq jokes without it being homophobic. and all of the characters are so <3 !!! its so cop propaganda but it also portrays poc and lgbtq people in such a good way that i can’t hate it :,). also idk if its the enfp in me but something about jake peralta and phil dunphy feel really really relatable. AND OOOH COMMUNITY HAS BEEN ON MY ‘TO WATCH’ LIST FOR AGES BUT BECAUSE OF THIS IM GONNA WATCH IT ONCE I FINISH WATCHING AHS (idk if u watched but hell house and coven >>>). ALSO THE GOOD PLACE’S LATTER SEASONS ARE JUST AS GOOD AS THE FIRST TWO IM SO GLAD THEY NEVER TRIED TO KEEP IT GOING UNTIL IT BECAME A PILE OF SHIT (ie: i love supernatural but…supernatural 😔). as for criminal minds i started it not too long ago but i can’t find the site i used to watch it on so i couldn’t finish season 1 </3 .

ANYWAYS YEAH LETS TALK ABOUT THESE MORE PLEASE I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR UR THOUGHTS ON THESE SHOWS (and more shows that u like hehe). LIKE FOR EXAMPLE: DID HALEY DUNPHY HAVE A GOOD ENDING (i think not she and andy were good together and her ending turned her into her mother and not in a good way) OR DO U THINK IKSONG HAPPENS THIS SEASON (ngl im betting that if the show doesn’t end on s2, then definitely s3) OR ANYTHING AT ALL (why am i so in love with tsukki and daichi good god also if haikyuu were real which school would u like to go to and which team would u support but also why does one tooru oikawa look like he would watch legally blonde on a weekly basis and sometimes with wing spiker hajime iwaizumi who now knows every word to the movie).

(btw yeah we have the same timezones :D but as for country 😬)

ITS THE WEEKEND ELLE!!! GO DO SOMETHING GREAT!!! UR AWESOME!!! AND PRETTY!!! (i’ve never seen u but u just give off pretty vibes srsly)

- <3

"I forgot tumblr existed" -- pls omg why is this me on some days?? anyways, ramble a lot on this one so putting everything under the cut hehe <3

first of all,, glad u liked the tsukki fic !! it really made me crave the college bf of my dreams who cuddles me when i can’t sleep (which is honestly every night at this point)

hold up,, why does me being a seulgi stan make sense to people omg ?? I got another ask a while back where they said they figured I was a seulgi stan what ?? also yes joy !! bias wrecker right there,, heart goes dock doki for her aaaa YERI !! pls honestly I could just scream about any and all rv members at this point, they have me by the neck I tell u ;-; I love pushing’ n pulling’ from queendom but from their overall discography I love la rouge as well, the bass (?) is immaculate but I also have a soft spot for light me up for some reason ??

oooh noted,, im always on the hunt for new hobbies so ill take this into consideration if I ever want to start building tiny houses hehe

AAAA IM NOT CAUGHT UP ;-; I just started ep. nine when I got caught up in uni stuff and couldn’t watch ;-; but I am hoping for iksong endgame + junwan/iksun endgame,, honestly I just want all of them to be happy wherever and whoever that happiness may be,, they all deserve the world ;-; AND THE OST ?? pls my fave band performance has to be the one from zoo (?) called met you at the subway station or something like that from s1, what about you?

MODERN FAMILY YES !! it’s just so rewatchable and heartwarming and I love the portrayal of family,, like yeah stuff isn’t perfect but you’re all there for each other in the end,, very easily one of my comfort shows...the finale made my heart clench but I thought it was a good way to wrap up the series </3 I feel the same about B99 honestly,, like yes cop propaganda but also the poc + lgbtq+ rep makes my heart all warm and sighh phil dunphy just lowkey jake peralta as a suburban dad,, I feel like he’ll treat Mac in the same way Phil treats Luke <3 COMMUNITY IS AMAZING,, the way they just play around with so many genres and concepts is amazing like no other show could have pulled it off but them aaaa and yes tgp is just godtier television,, the way I audibly gasped at the s1 finale?? no other show will ever get that reaction from me

oooh I loved Andy so much, he and Hayley were great together... I don't mind her getting back together with Dylan as he did mature in the later seasons while still keeping that charm, I just wish they didn’t make her a mom bc there are better ways to show her growth...I wish we could've seen her thriving in fashion/business with Dylan eventually becoming a nurse ;-; I hope iksong does happen tho they’d be so so good together but I do understand the hesitance bc of their decades long friendship ;-; PLS I AM ALSO ASKING MYSELF WHY IM IN LOVE WITH TSUKKI AND DAICHI I CANT HELP U THERE </3 I think I’d support seijoh for my mans but also Karasuno bc I love a good underdog team,, wbu? yes oikawa does watch legally blonde on a weekly basis with iwa he told me so himself <3

ME ?? AWESOME ?? PRETTY ?? THESE WORDS CANT POSSIBLY EXIST IN THE SAME SENTENCE AAA BUT TY GO DO SOMETHING FUN TOO !! AND TAKE CARE <333

#💘 — love elle!#🎐 — <3anon! <3

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coolxatu · 5 years

Text

look everyone knows homestuck is literally a burning trash fire but i need you all to know just how fucking much this story has meant to me, how fucking integral it is to the fact that im still alive. how it literally single handedly changed the entire directory of my life

i was in high school when i started reading homestuck. i was in high school and at that point in my life i thought i would never live past high school. i had a plan. the moment i graduated i was going to kill myself. i had no friends, i grew up in an abusive household, i was struggling with mental illnesses i didnt know i had, i had literally nothing to live for. there was no future i could see myself living in

and then i made a tumblr

and every few days, on an almost weekly basis, i would see people on my dash talking about this.. this thing. and it wasnt just a few people, it was A LOT of people. a WHOLE LOT of people. and there was like this.. feeling in the air.. like an electric current running through everyone all at once. and it was incredible to watch, so of course i thought “i gotta get in on this”

and then i read a few pages of act 1, understood nothing, and gave up lol

but that feeling was still there. so of course, i tried again

i tried again and i read. and i read and i watched and i played and finally i was caught up. and then the next update came and then I was part of that feeling. I was part of that current. I was finally PART of something and that something can only be described as the kind of joy, and wonder, and plain old EXCITEMENT that you only ever feel when youre a kid and only ever when you have people to share it with

i started talking to people, getting to know them, sharing jokes with them, and before i knew it.. i had friends. REAL friends. the lasting kind, the kind you can tell anything to, the kind that message you at 3 am telling you that ‘HOMESTUCK UPDATED’ and ‘YOU HAVE GOT TO READ THIS RIGHT NOW’

and then years passed and we all started to grow up together. we became wiser of the world around us, of the struggles of the less fortunate, of the greed of capitalism, and that the guy that wrote homestuck is kind of a bit of a shithead. we learned that we need to critique the flaws in media, the flaws in society, the flaws in ourselves. and then we changed, tumblr changed, the whole WORLD changed. some for the good, others for the bad

and the whole time homestuck was there in the background, like this compass that had pointed me from danger, like the supernatural aid on the first step of the hero’s journey. it lead me to amazing things, things that couldve taken years longer without it. or probably... not at all

i realized that im bi because of homestuck. it was the first experience i ever had with same sex couples in media, the first positive representation i had to cling on to. and i know im not alone in that. my life can be cleanly separated into pre-homestuck and post-homestuck and i can honestly say that im a better, happier person now then i was before directly because of the paths homestuck led me to

i will always recognize the problems in homestuck (and it has many, many problems) but i also need to celebrate what it gave me. and what it gave me was a second lease on life. it gave me friends, friends that ive spent the better part of 7 years with. it gave me hope. and maybe, most importantly.. it gave me a future i can see myself in

i promised myself a long time ago that i wouldnt die until homestuck ends

and

well

i guess im still keeping that promise

#SORRY FOR BEING SAPPY ON MAIN I HAVE FEELINGS #homestuck #upd8 #suicide mention /

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magicallygrimmwiccan · 5 years

Text

I’ve Read This Script

Summary: It always ended the same way. He really should have learned better by now, but he hadn’t.

Notes: For the @secretsanders! Happy Holidays, @im-not-leaving-my-room-fuck-u!! Hope you enjoy my present!!

Also, yes, I forgot to put in a German translation, I’m sorry. I’ll explain what was going on there at the end, okay? :))

Title from Cleopatra by the Lumineers. Fight me, it works perfectly for this fic.

Can’t think of any trigger warnings... maybe betrayal? Mention of death (of old age)? Some non-descriptive blood? That’s all I can think of... let me know if you see something else! On with the story!

He swore to himself that he would never fall in love again, not after last time ended in disaster and the complete shattering of Logan's heart for the fifth time in his extremely lengthy life. He should have known better, he should have known that Declan would only end in heartbreak, yet he foolishly listened to his heart and trudged onwards, deeper and deeper into a relationship founded on lies. Logan sighed and rested his head on his arms, leaning forward until the ribs were digging into his marble countertop. Colours and scents and sounds pushes against the barriers of his mind, and Logan groaned as he realized what was happening. After decades of this curse, he still triggered it because he couldn't handle his silly, illogical feelings. Logan gritted his teeth and shook his head, attempting to clamp down on the leaking memories of half a century ago. He couldn't risk going under, he had work in only a couple hours, he couldn't do this…

His brain, however, would not listen to logic or to his pleas. These memories were determined to be acknowledged, to be remembered, to be seen, and Logan could not stop it, quickly losing the fight to the swirling technicolour vortex from his limbic system. He spiraled down, down, past kisses and missions, past stargazing and dinners, past betrayals and flashes of silver, and landed at The Beginning.

Lauren Johnson walked down the sidewalk towards her work, hurrying to her destination. She had awoken extremely late that morning, and while her employer would surely be fine with just this one instance of tardiness, Lauren did not wish to push. She was so focussed on her goal that she did not notice the change in traffic until she was tackled to the ground just before a loud screech cut through the air. She managed to push the person off of her and look around, her breath freezing as she took in the destruction before her. A car was flipped on its roof, flames streaming from the shattered windows. People were screaming and running, and Lauren barely registered a cool hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” a smooth voice asked, the hand squeezing Lauren's shoulder as they spoke. She nodded, still rattled, and turned around to face the stranger who had saved her life. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in her savior, the most handsome man she’d clapped eyes on in this lifetime. Amber-gold eyes gleamed above a pair of dark sunglasses that rested on a sharp nose and high cheekbones. Sleek brown-blonde hair poked out from underneath his hat, and a sharp black and white suit accentuated his slim, perfectly proportioned and muscular figure. In short: Lauren was faced with an angel.

“Er… yes, I am alright, thanks to you,” Lauren finally murmured. The stranger grinned and pulled her up, brushed her off, and then pressed a slip of paper into her hand before pecking her on the cheek and bouncing off. Lauren stood there, dumbfounded, staring after the vanishing stranger who had saved her life. Finally, she shook himself out of her shock and started to sprint for work. She couldn’t be late.

Logan snapped out of his memories, heaving. He hadn’t remembered Declan before, and he’d forgotten how… charming he’d been. How wonderful those first few months had been. He’d forgotten the moonlit rendezvous, the fancy dinners, the kisses after Declan returned from missions… He’d forgotten all the good as soon as Declan stabbed him in the stomach for accidentally helping another spy agency. He’d barely had enough magic to transform, so heartbroken as he was pushed backwards off the roof, the last thing he saw before the Change being Declan’s amber-gold eyes, now cold and uncaring.

Logan forced himself to his feet. He needed to let go of those memories; they would only hurt more in the end. With that, Logan locked cool rain, searing adrenaline, and amber-gold eyes back inside a heavy iron-wrought box and locked it. He could not be distracted by these meaningless romantic notions anymore; he had work to do.

He managed to stave off the memories for another month, until… until a shy, anxious, darkly-dressed boy walked into Logan’s library, checked out a book of faerie tales, and smiled at Logan with a smile Logan hadn’t seen for 300 years. The last time he saw that smile, it was on the dying face of a young Prussian captain, slain by a rival in the halls of Sanssouci. Logan managed to hold on until the young man left, but the second his final black combat boot left, Logan sunk to the ground, breathing erratically. His coworkers were used to this and bundled him off to the Panic Corner to allow him to become lost in memories. Logan screwed his eyes shut, blushing at the feel of warm tears, and tried to stop the flood; he didn’t want to remember her, he didn’t want to go back there, he didn’t want his heart broken again-

Ludwig Amsel stepped into the large ballroom, eyes wide in shock. They had never been inside a room this large or extravagant before, and they were honestly a little nervous. So many people, so many new faces… Ludwig couldn’t handle this. They wanted to go home already. Ludwig was not looking where they were going, and they found themself crashing into another person.

“Ah, es tut mir leid! Bist du verletzt? Haben Sie noch einen Wunsch, Sir?” the person babbled, their high-pitched voice cutting through the fog in Ludwig’s head. Ludwig shook their head and faced the person, their heart hammering in their chest. Short black hair framed a delicate, pale face. Blue-violet eyes locked into Ludwig’s own crystal orbs, and a deep flush rose on the soldier’s cheeks (for that was what he was, Ludwig realized, a soldier).

“Nein, mir geht es gut. Ich bitte vielmals um Verzeihung… wie heißen Sie?” Ludwig asked, extending their hand for a handshake. The soldier snapped to attention, flustered.

“Ähm… ich heiße Hauptmann Viktor Hinterberg. Und Sie?” the captain answered, voice high and shaky. Ludwig nodded and shook the hand, smiling bashfully.

“Ich heiße Ludwig Amsel. Nett es Sie kennen zu lernen, Hauptmann Hinterberg,” Ludwig returned, slowly releasing Viktor’s hand. Viktor flushed and stammered, causing Ludwig to smirk at the adorableness.

“Ich… ich muss gehe. Schönen Feierabend, Herr Amsel.” With that, Viktor walked away, leaving Ludwig alone in the centre of a crowded room.

Logan snapped out of the memory, still crying. His coworker Neah knelt down, large amber-gold eyes (so much like Declan’s, yet not at all like his) boring deep into his soul.

“Which one?” they whispered, gently squeezing his shoulder in a show of support. Logan sniffled, wiping his eyes with his Doctor Who scarf that Thomas had gotten him for Christmas only a few days ago.

“... Viktoria…” he whispered. Neah nodded and sat back, smiling softly.

“The Evans boy, yeah?” He nodded, and Neah nodded back again. “Do you believe that reincarnation is possible?”

“Of course I do,” Logan mumbled. “How could I not, after everything I’ve seen?” Neah shrugged and passed him a Rubik's cube to take his mind off of things and began to speak.

“Could you tell me about Viktoria? Maybe that would help. I know telling people about Laurel helped after… that, so maybe this could help you?” Logan pondered for a second before shaking his head. He wanted to talk about Vik, truly he did, but how was he supposed to tell Neah about all the little trysts as even the Prussian king supported them and gave them a room and privacy at his balls? How was he supposed to explain the sunshine in his stomach every time he saw Viktor’s smile? How was he supposed to explain the feeling of pure love and trust that exploded out of him when Viktor revealed that she was in fact Viktoria, and Ludwig had been allowed to reveal that he was in fact Louisa, but they had despised both names equally? How was he supposed to describe the feeling of pure… death, that came when Viktoria was stabbed through the heart by a fellow captain, jealous of all the attention Viktoria was receiving from Frederick? How in the world was he to speak about the cold, empty, hollow feeling of wrath as Frederick had the captain executed and Ludwig watched? It all still hurt too much to recall, let alone recount to another person.

Neah nodded before standing up. “When you’re ready, come out, okay?” and left him alone to hug the black cat plushie with the mismatched yes that reminded him so much of Viktoria’s sparkling green and brown eyes that if Logan didn’t believe in human reincarnation, he’d believe Viktoria had become this cat that he hugged and cried into on a weekly basis. There was… an odd sense of comfort in that thought, no matter how illogical and false it was.

The next flashback occured only two weeks after the Viktoria one, this time while Logan was out getting coffee with another coworker, Sascha. He walked up to the counter to order his coffee (black, three sugars, no cream), when the sight of the barista caused him to freeze. The soft blonde curls, the clear blue eyes, the freckles, the soft sunshine smile, everything pointed to her and Logan just froze. Sascha noticed, grabbed both their coffees, payed the barista, and quickly walked Logan out to his car, muttering assurances and soothing platitudes until Logan was safely in the car and the coffees were safely out of his reach.

“Okay, Logan, talk to me, what’s going on?” Sascha requested, pushing his sunglasses onto his head so he could look Logan straight (ha) in the eyes.

“B… barista… Pénélope…” he stammered. Sascha nodded in understanding and took Logan’s hands into his own, rubbing his fingers along the knuckles soothingly.

“Just let it all out, Logan, it’s okay,” Sascha soothed. Logan sucked in a breath and tried to stop this, but it was too late and he was yanked under, the last thing he registered in the present being Sascha turning the keys to start the car.

Léone LeClair glanced up as the bell above her shop door tinkled. “Good morning! What can I get you?” she called, turning to face the new customer. Her next question died in her throat as the stranger gave her a bright, sunny smile unlike any that Léone had seen before.

“Good morning! Could I take six loaves of bread, some eggs, and a bit of milk?” the stranger asked, blonde curls falling into her crystal blue eyes. Léone snapped herself out of her stupor and grabbed the items the beautiful girl requested, smiling awkwardly.

“Of course.” They exchanged payments, and the stranger left, leaving Léone feeling incredibly sad and lonely.

The stranger kept coming back, however. She kept coming back to buy more bread, more eggs, more milk. She came to buy butter and cheese and pastries of all kinds. Eventually, Léone learned her name. Pénélope Bisset, a weaver in the next town over who only came here because the products were cheaper and the people nicer, in her opinion. Léone didn’t argue with her.

It was about a year after Léone first met Pénélope when Pénélope asked the question.

“Léone, I love you. You are so kind and sweet and just… I love you. But… I don’t know how to be with you.” Léone’s heart froze in her chest. Pénélope felt the same way as she. They… they had a chance.

“Pénélope, I must confess that… I also love you,” Léone murmured. She flushed, shifting in discomfort, as she waiting for Pénélope’s response. Pénélope clapped her hands together, grinning.

“Oh, Léone! Thank you! I… I’m so glad!” Pénélope cried, dancing around. She paused soon, though, her smile dropping. “What… what are we going to do?” Léone thought for a moment before slamming her fist into her open palm.

“We run. We run to another part of the land and live our lives alone out there.” Pénélope pondered this idea for a moment before agreeing, and Léone’s heart fluttered. She loved this wonderful beam of sunshine more than she could ever quantify.

So, without even another thought, both packed a couple bags of clothing, food, and money and ran. They ran to the edge of the countryside, bought goats along the way, and settled down, telling everyone nearby that they were sisters to avoid being murdered. They raised their goats, and three orphaned children, and finally, finally, after 40 long years, Pénélope died, breaking Léone’s heart for the second time in her life. She held her wife’s body and cried, crying even harder when she realized that Pénélope’s sunshine had left, never to face her again.

Logan snapped back to the present, heavy tears fogging his glasses and dripping down onto his knees. He startled as he registered a soft, warm blanket wrapped around him and his coffee shoved into his hands.

“Logan? You good? Do you need anything else?” Sascha whispered. Logan shook his head, and Sascha nodded. After a few minutes, Sascha murmured: “... Want to talk?” and Logan shook his head again. A few more minutes of awkward silence, and then: “... Want to go home?”

“Yes please,” Logan whispered. Sascha yanked out his phone, fired off a quick text (most likely to Thomas), and then put the car back in gear to drive Logan home.

“Mi corazón, come here! I have something to ask you!” Prince Raúl called, his deep, smooth voice bubbling with excitement. Prince León poked his head into the room, confusion and concern stirring in his mocha eyes.

“Yes? What is it?” León answered, his voice high. Raúl spun to give him a large smile and presented a gleaming gold and ruby ring.

“We’re getting married! Well, in secret, but we’re still getting married! Isn’t this wonderful?” León’s eyes widened and tears bubbled in them. He was… getting married? To the love of his life?

“Of course! Yes!” León yelped, throwing himself into Raúl’s arms, crying and laughing at the same time. Raúl was just as much of a mess, grabbing León and spinning him around before pulling him into a passionate kiss. León giggled and smiled into the kiss as Raúl slipped the ring onto his finger. For just one moment, all was peaceful and happy with the two princes.

Logan snapped back to awareness, sobbing his eyes out. “Oh, sweetie, shh, shh, it’s okay,” a voice was soothing him. Thomas. That was Thomas. His employer. “Logan, I’m not mad, I need you to breathe with me.”

Logan tried, he really did, but nothing was working. Raúl had been the beginning of the end, the last time he was uncursed, the last time he was human.

A small scuffle, and then a new, cool presence was in front of him, telling him to breathe. He shook his head because he couldn’t, he was sorry but he couldn’t, he was too lost…

“Ludwig Amsel, I need you to look at me right this instant,” a soft voice firmly stated, cutting through the mess that was Logan’s thoughts. Logan’s breathing and heart froze. Only… only one person should still know that name; himself. So how… who… what?

“Logan, it’s Viktor. Viktoria. I need you to breathe with me,” the soft voice continued. Logan managed to finally suck air into his lungs, and the voice (Viktoria, but no, she was dead) cheered him on and praised him. Logan finally, finally managed to get his breathing back to normal, and he finally glanced up, only to meet one brown and one green eye, the same eyes of Viktoria.

“Logan. My name is Virgil, but you used to know me as Viktoria. I’m here, darling, and I need you to calm down so we can talk.” Logan nodded, still confused. How did Vik-Virgil know who they used to be?

Virgil pulled Logan to his feet, giving him that small shaky smile. “Thomas told me everything,” Virgil murmured. Logan swallowed. How had Thomas…

“I met the witch who cursed you, Logan. They feel sorry for what they did, and they decided to help me help you break it,” Thomas explained quickly, arms crossed over his chest as a warm smile dimpled his cheeks. “So, I reached out to the three who mattered, found out they all lived here, and told them everything.”

Logan blinked, surprised. The witch… was… sorry? “And Patton- you’d know him as Pénélope- and I are good friends, so I told him. He’s running to get you some tea; Sascha told us you like tea. So, Patton and I are friends, and Roman is Patton’s boyfriend- you’d know Roman as Raúl I believe?- so he’s with Patton getting tea. And I’m here to calm you down.” Virgil rattled off nervously.

“Ah… my… apologies for freaking out…” Logan mumbled.

“Hey, hey, no. No need. You’ve been through a lot, Logan, and no one is going to fault you for some breakdowns,” Virgil cut in, eyes fierce yet soft. Logan bit his lip. He didn’t believe him.

“Logan. Thomas has closed the place, so we’re going to sit down when Patt and Princey get back and talk this all out, okay L?” Logan nodded, and Virgil nodded before stepping back. “Now,” Virgil continued, arching a dark eyebrow. “Tell me about yourself?”

Notes: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Okay, so, the conversation was basically: Virgil apologizing to Logan after bumping into him and asking if he could do anything. Logan says that he’s fine and then asks for Virgil’s name. Virgil gives his name, Logan gives his, and then Virgil runs off in Gay Panic.

Hope you liked it! Happy New Year everyone!

#Secret Sanders 2018 #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #thomas sanders #some ocs #angst #fluff #immortality #mentions of magic

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baozis-marshmallow · 6 years

Text

A Girl is a Gun: Im Jaebum (Got7) Mafia AU

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

Genre: Thriller, romance, dystopian, organized crime, fluff, smut

Summary: Im Jaebum is the leader of the notorious mob known as the 7. They hold extreme power, and every other gang wants what they have; including Y/N’s father, a corrupt political superpower in this dystopian world. This man will do anything to get even a fraction of the 7′s fortune. Even if it means destroying them in the process. However, Jae makes the politician a deal that he simply can’t turn down.

Chapters: 1 - 2

{TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS GANG VIOLENCE, SWEARING, AND THEMES OF KIDNAPPING}

You can find the moodboards that correspond with this series here!

*There is no smut in this chapter, but there will be in future chapters*

C h a p t e r O n e

The sleek, black finish of the Rolls Royce reflected the bright flashes of the gunfire that emanated from the end of its owner’s glock. The sound of the fired round bounced off the concrete walls of the empty alleyway, only to be heard by not-so-innocent passersby; who feigned deafness for their own safety. Everyone in this city knew that luxury car like the back of their hand, and they also knew that they should avoid its driver, Im Jaebum, at all costs.

Wiping away the blood that had splattered on his cheek, he racked another bullet into the chamber with an evil smile. Every other gang in the 100 mile radius knew of the 7, and craved the power that they held. Because of this, they were now being jumped on a weekly basis. Or so he thought.

“So,” he said, eyeballing the remaining members of the group of men who had tried to take him out. “Who’s next?” He had no idea what gang they belonged to, but they looked rather young, and they stared in horror as blood pooled around their injured comrade. The group took off running, and he almost felt bad for them. Chances are this wasn’t a life they had signed up for. His empathetic thoughts quickly faded as he heard the unmistakable “click” of a loaded gun behind him.

Jaebum laughed, “Why didn’t you run off with your friends?”. He turned around to see you, a very pretty girl, to be the one holding a revolver to his head, and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You calling me a coward?” you sneered at him.

“No I’m calling myself very surprised.” he replied plainly; almost as if he was talking about the weather. You rolled your eyes. Yet another “macho” asshole who didn’t take you seriously. “Who’s your boss?” he asked, still seemingly un-bothered.

“That’s none of your business,” you scoffed. You technically didn’t have “boss” considering you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place. Your dad had sent his men out, and you wanted to prove that you could handle the family business, so you took matters into your own hands. “I should be asking you the same question.” you said confidently. Even though you knew very well who he was.

“I don’t have a boss, baby.” he said, mocking you. “I am the boss.” In one swift movement you had been disarmed, and he had you pinned to the side of his car. “Now, how about you tell me where you came from, I send you back breathing and in one piece, and we just call this all a big misunderstanding.”

“One,” you said, kneeing him in the crotch, and kicking him against the wall of the alleyway “I am NOT your fucking baby. Two,” your foot smashed him in the face “you can go to hell.” You backed away and watched as he laughed like a madman, blood dripping from his now-broken nose down his face. His laughter was short-lived however, as the sound of police sirens blared from just down the street.

He leaped up from his place on the ground with lightening speed, unlocked the rolls royce and pushed you inside, all before you could even process what was happening. It was no wonder he hadn’t been caught yet, you thought to yourself. As much as you hated him, he definitely knew what he was doing.

Jumping into the drivers seat, he started the car with a roar, and slammed on the gas, throwing you into the back seat. Once you regained your balance, you retaliated with a screech, and attempted to kick him in the head once again. This caused the car to swerve, and another string of curse words to fall from Jae’s mouth. Just as you got ready to send another blow, the movement of the car had sent you flying back into the seat again. You watched as Jaebum reached into the console, and pull out what looked like a pen. With a “click!” you felt a sharp pain shoot up your right leg.

Screeching tires and police sirens were the last thing you heard before the world turned black.

End of Chapter 1

{oooo this was so much fun to write y’all. I hope you all love it!}

All requests are OPEN! You can find the rules here!

m a s t e r l i s t

#got7 #im jaebum #got7 writing #got7 smut #got7 imagine #got7 mafia au #kpop writing #kpop mafia au #im jaebum imagine #jb got7

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kpop-drabble · 7 years

Text

I only want to taste some ice cream loving [wonpil]

Anonymous said "Could you write a precious Wonpil fluff where you work at a ice cream shop and you two have like a lock eye moment where its like woah my heart is break dancing, so he begins to visit the shop often to make small talk until he finally decides to ask you out on a date! I don't really know what else to add to it but something just fluff as heck"

Pairing : Wonpil x Reader Word Count : 2,167 A/N : aaaa, thank you so much for the request i love wonpil so this was so fun 2 write; i hope this was up to your 'fluff as heck' standards owo. im not like 100% abt the ending bc i was like IDK HOW 2 END THIS so that was born. also i couldnt find a good title bc i usually do lyrics but did u kno all ice cream lyrics r abt blowjobs bc i was Thrown Tf Off. and im also considering writing a sequel just of the date and make it extra fluffy but idk, we'll see. tell me if you'd read that. again than you for the request and support ilu so very much.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

"He's checking you out." Is probably the last thing you'd like to hear during your eight hour shift for two reasons. One: you're not necessarily great at saying no and you've got many blocked messages from people that asked for your number to prove. Two: The main demographic for the icecream shop that you worked in consisted of either small groups of children coming to celebrate their win in whatever sports they persue or large, rowdy groups of pre-teens that probably had to borrow money from their parents for this outing with friends. The second one was one that you feared most, as pre-teens are very easily persuaded by their group of friends to act out, which has lead to the couple of times you've actually managed to nicely say no to someone. And its overall just odd to be hit on by an overly confident prepubescent person while their group of friends egged him on and watching with eyes of a hawk. With these two factors in mind, instead of delving into Jae's teasing words, you keep your back towards the store and keep your circular montions going as you wiped down the counter for an unnecessarily long amount of time. "I said-" Jae started, much louder than before, as if he didn't know that you chosen to ignore him and instead were oblivious to his words due to the murmur of several conversations happening within the small icecream shop, "He's checking you out."

"Must you insist-" "I know most times its for gags when I say this, but there is a guy, who looks to be our age, blantantly staring over at you over his banana split," Jae cut you off short, you only lifted your head momentarily to look over at where Jae stood, head turned to look in what you assumed was the general direction of the customer that he spoke of, "He's got icecream on his chin." He offhandedly commented, his hand absentmindedly raising to rub at his own chin before he was turning his eyes to you. Your eyes held nothing but unamusement as you kept Jae's stare, a silent conversation held between you two before you were bowing your head to look back down at the cloth you held loosely against the metal table top, "Is he cute at least?" Jae was silent for a moment, most likely pondering his words before you could vaguely hear his hum as he came up with an appropriate response, "Personally, no." He started, your eyes already beginning to roll before he could continue on, "But objectively speaking, if I were to look at it from your point of view," You turned your head once more to watch as Jae cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing in on the customer before he was shaking his head up and down with confidence, "Then yes i suppose he is okay." "'Okay'," You huffed out, turning on the heel of your sneaker so you could face Jae completely, eyes strained to keep forward instead of looking off to where Jae had been staring, "Should I- like, make eye contact?" "No, you dont want to look desperate," He immediately quirked up, eyes finally dragging away from how he had been blatantly staring to meet yours once more. You had half a mind to be annoyed before he was continuing on, "Just make it casual, act cool." Act cool, you recounted the words in your head as Jae turned away from you to tend to a couple customers that have been staring helplessly at the menu for coming up to a minute now. Act cool You weren't necessarily sure what 'acting cool' would consist of, so you just gradually began to move your way to the counter near the side of the shop that Jae had made clear the customer was, your hands halfheartedly working over the top of the counter to collect dust and melted ice cream.

Act cool You lifted your head as nonchalantely as you possibly could, head only tilted enough so you could look up through your lashes. The sight before you was much like every other day, near the door sat a couple, two spoons and one cup of icecream between the two of them. Disgusting. Somewhere in the middle was a family, the parents fussing over the childrens messy clothes as the icecream readily melted on the cone and dripped down their small pudgy hands. And against the furthest wall was a group of three boys that looked to be around Jae and your own age, two of them rowdier as they talked over each other. And then there was him amongst the loud talking group of three. Large dark eyes, the colour holding a large resemblance to a rich dark chocolate, were locked on you. His lips were a dark pink from the chill of the icecream and had a sheer coating of wetness that made them look glossy. And as Jae had mentioned, a small gallop of icecream sat in the center of his chin, slowly inching down leaving a slug like trail in its wake. There wasn't any coherant words that you could come up with on the spot to explain the swoop in your stomach at the sudden lock of eyes across the room, there was no logical reasoning for the butterflies clouding your chest and yet it was there, and growing much denser every passing second your eyes stayed connected with the soft depths of the boys. It was almost like a daze passed as the boy across the rooms lashes fluttered, glints in his eyes from reflected light dimming as he came to and realized that you had noticed him watching. Rouge coloured the tops of his cheek bones and his wet lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out and even if it had the distance between the two of you would have prevented you from making it out. With embarrassment seeping into every pore making itself prominent, he turned away from your locked stare and looked at the table with a petrified look in his eyes. You let out a breath from your parted lips, the feeling in your chest lessening but the tightness lingered as you turned to look at Jae. You dont know how long he had been watching, but the lopsided smirk on his lips was telling enough. "Oh, shut up." Regular customers aren't an uncommon occurance when you work in an ice cream shop, in fact the city that it's located in isn't that big which leads you to be able to greet at least a handful of customers by name everytime they came in. But prior to the fateful day where you locked eyes with the customer, you hadn't seen him around the shop before. Which made you more hyper aware of every time he came in, something that was becaming near weekly. Sometimes he'd return with the group of boys that you had seen him with the first time and sometimes he'd come alone accompanied only by his phone which he dug his nose into as he ate (hiding behind the screen of his phone hardly masked each time his eyes dragged away to look up at where you stood behind the counter). But unlike the changing of the group in which he comes with, there are certain things that dont change. He orders the same banana split with extra sprinkles and caramel sauce, and he sits at the table against the wall. Much like other regulars that you've come accostumed to, you had fallen into the same habit each time the boy walked into the shop. After his third visit you began to press in his order before he had made it to the counter and after his sixth visit his name was brought up in the casual conversation you both held as you put in his order, and thus started your greetings on a first name basis. No matter how regular of a customer that he'd become, the butterflies stayed persistent each time the bell above the door chimmed and you were met with soft waves of brown hair and a perminent bright smile. Today was no different.

"Wonpil, its a shock to see you here on a Tuesday," You joked casually as the stranger approached the counter, your fingers already moving across the cash register to press in his order. "Thought I'd shake up the schedule a little and come a day earlier than usual," He shot right back with only minor hesitation, his confidence levels much higher than the first couple encounters that you two had prior. He held an embarrassing innocence around him the first time you both had actually held a casual conversation as he was ordering; which lead him to ponder over his responses for a little too long which inturn would inevitably paint his cheeks scarlet. Overtime you could see him becoming more comfortable and confident in your short conversations, but the innocence that you were first met with was still apparent each time you looked over in his direction and caught his already lingering stare. "Getting a little wild this week," You said on a soft laugh, looking up at him once you had finished processing the banana split, met with confident eyes that glinted from the dull light of the icecream shop and a bright toothy smile to match. "Yes I'm feeling unnaturally wild today, I might even switch up my order," You smacked your palm down onto the metal table top, going along with his over the top playfulness on this sudden change in what seemed to be his new schedule. "Unnaturally wild indeed!" You cooed, fingers swiftly moving over the cash register to delete the previous banana split you had put in, fingers lingering over the keys as you waited, "Then what should I get you today?" There was a seconds pause in the conversation, your head still bowed to look at the cash register as you waited for what you assumed was him making up his mind on what else he could try within the shop. "A simple chocolate dip would suffice," He spoke, his voice slow and thought out as if he was stalling to keep from saying something, but you put no thought into it as you put in his new order. You were about to open your mouth to ring out the new cost before Wonpil's voice was heard once more cutting your sentence off before it could begin, "And a date," Your fingers froze over the cash registers buttons, eyes flickering up to meet his own. The brown swirls completely drained of their confident light and were heavy with something boardering the line between embarrassment and dread. "Maybe?" He tacked on when you hadn't answered him, his voice coming out in a waver and nervous, reminding you of the boy who avoided direct eye contact and rung his fingers everytime he talked to you on the first day you had officially met.

You couldnt help the small embarrassed smile from crossing your lips as your cheeks heated up to an uncomfortably warm temperature, sure enough to leave a glow of red in its wake. You momentarily averted your gaze to the windows leading out to the sidewalk, trying to collect yourself and tame your wildly beating heart. You slowly began to nod your head in response, eyes dragging towards where Wonpil still stood before you, eyes hooded and calculated as he watched each movement you had done in response to his request. "We'll be getting a new delivery of dates at 6pm, when my shift ends," You said, hoping he'd understand your hints and that the playful response was to go along with his ice cream and date order. Wonpil blinked at you for a moment, whether it be because he was in shock or because he was trying to understand what you had said, but in no time his eyes were lighting up to their original confidentfilled brightness, the toothy smile quirking up his lips no matter how hard he tried to tamper it down as to not look too excited, "Then I will be back at 6pm sharp to.. uh.. pick up my date." You nodded quickly, clearing your throat in attempt to push the butterflies back down into your stomach so you could properly speak, "It'll be 2.50 for the cone, though." He stared at you for a moment longer before his smile turned embarrassed and his hand rose to scratch at the back of his neck, "I dont actually- necessarily want icecream today. In fact I'm kind of sick of it." "Then why did you keep coming back each week?" "It was a good excuse to come back and be able to see you." And just as the first time your eyes met across the room, your stomach swooped without clear explanation as to why and the butterflies returned with vengeance.

#day6 #day6 scenario #wonpil #wonpil scenario #wonpil day6 #day6 wonpil #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #day6 imagine #wonpil imagine #day6 fluff #day6 fluff scenario #day6 fluffy scenario #day6 fluff imagine #day6 fluff imagines #imagines #scenarios

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