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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

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Regained Passion - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 2 - proper meeting

Harry let out a slow breath as he stared into the void in his history class, it had been a full week since he started the dance classes, and almost every day Bert mentioned putting him into a higher experienced class due to his flexibility and the fact that Harry was already a good dancer. But again, Harry wasn’t into the dance class that much, he liked dancing, it's just he didn't like being forced to dance.

His counselor had tried to ask about his first week but Harry was stubborn as usual, even glaring at her during it. She had sighed and rubbed her nose “I can't help you if you don’t open up to me Mr. Hook” Harry had only glared again, he didn’t want or need her help, yeah, he was a little fucked up in the head but if he wanted therapy or a consular, he would get it, not something FG forced on him.

After history finally ended, Harry grabbed his backpack and walked out of the room, sighing in relief as he realized he only had one class left, and it was his favorite, history of sailors and the seven seas. It talked all about pirates and sailors, particularly one of his favorite pirates, Jack Sparrow. One of the few pirates that had escaped isle imprisonment, due to him being pardoned of his crimes after it was discovered that his branding of a pirate had been connected to his freeing of hundreds of slaves.

Harry froze as a now very familiar face stepped into the hall he was walking in, she was looking down at her book, her black backpack hanging off her shoulder, bringing her denim jacket down with it off her shoulder, revealing her gray t-shirt. She suddenly looked up, her sparking (e/c) eyes once again locking with his.

Harry felt the butterflies flood his body again and he ducked into the next hall, away from his class, and pressed himself against the wall, sliding down as he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands ‘what am I doing?’ he thought, gritting his teeth ‘hiding from a pretty girl? What the hell?’

“Are you hiding from me?” Harry jumped and slammed his head against the locker behind him, looking up to see the girl, who had covered her mouth in shock from Harry's sudden motion “Are you okay?”

“Me? Hiding? No-no I don’- I don’t hide” Harry laughed off his embarrassment, standing from the floor and rubbing the back of his head, wincing slightly “I don’ hide from anyone” the girl smirked and rose her brow as she tilted her head.

“I looked up and as soon as I made eye contact you leaped behind the wall, and then stayed there until I came around the corner, I think that classifies as hiding.” Harry pouted at her, his heart going crazy as she laughed. “Now why would you hide from me? Im, not my brother mind you” Harry rose his brow at that.

“Who’s yer brother?” Harry asked, smirking as she made a sour face.

“Chad” Harry grimaced, relaxing a bit as she laughed again.

“I’m so sorry” her eyes widened a bit and she laughed even harder.

“I accept your condolences, he’s not a fun person to be related to, it took me a month to convince half the school that Chad and I are very different even though we're twins” Harry looked at her up at down, she didn’t look like Chad? “I know, fraternal twins though”

Harry hummed, nodding along, he remembered a couple of sets of twins on the isle, and even when they were “identical” twins, they didn’t look exactly like each other sometimes. “You’re Harry Hook, right?” Harry nodded again, ignoring the flutter of his heart as she said his name “I’m (y/n), (y/n) Charming” (y/n) held out her hand, giving Harry a warm smile.

“Dinne think yeh would even say hi ta me, considering wha’ yer brother has probably told yeh ‘bout meh” he took her hand, stilling for a moment as he felt a small shock ran up his arm and through his body. Shit what the hell was going on with him!?

“Well,” (y/n) laughed, once again sending butterflies through his gut “after almost 18 years of dealing with his dumbass, I've learned to not trust his word, if he says you’re a ‘filthy pirate’ then you aren’t all that bad” Harry smirked and shook his head, not seeing (y/n) freeze for a moment and stare at his lips.

“Yer somethin’ else I’ll tell yeh tha’” he laughed, biting the inside of his cheek as (y/n) looked away from him and fixed her backpack strap. “What’s yer next class?”

“Um-“ (y/n) started, pursing her lips a bit as she thought “Oh! History of sailors and the seven seas!” Harry couldn’t help the smile that grew on his lips.

“Same ‘ere, shall I escort yeh yer highness?” (y/n) gave him a look, then smiled.

“You may” (y/n) laughed, taking his arm as he offered it and they chatted quietly as Harry walked them both to class.

Harry threw his pencil on his table as he finished his English homework, leaning back in his chair and sighing. “Hey, Harry?” Uma started, looking up from her magic homework (a new class that FG had made for the magic endowed vks that needed to learn how to control their magic safely) “You made goody-goody with Chad's sister right?” Harry looked over his shoulder to her, raising his brow.

“Aye? Why?” a devious look overcame Uma’s face, and Harry sat up “Uma” Harry started, a warning tone to his voice, they had just gotten to Auradon two months ago, at the start of the school year, and he loved Uma with all his heart but if she was trying to plan to overtake Auradon by using (y/n) he would have to put his foot down (which he didn’t know why he would defend the girl so eagerly, even turning against his oldest friend like that)Auradon was a lot nicer than they thought and he’d rather not lose the comfy bed and fresh food he had just gotten.

“Oh chill!” Uma scoffed, waving her hand and rolling her eyes “I’m not planning any takeovers or whatever, I wanted to know if she gets along with her brother or not” Harry mentally sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair again.

“Um, no, I said sorry to her that she was his sister and she accepted my condolences, called him a dumbass too” Uma smirked again, a glint in her eye…he knew that glint, it was the glint of pranks “Oh! Do yeh want me ta-“

“Yes,” Uma interrupted him, rubbing her arms together as he saw a plan forming in her mind “ask her if she wants to help us prank Chad, fucker decided to ‘accidentally” Uma used finger quotes “spill grape juice all over my new jacket, and we all know that shit stains, didn’t even apologize either” Harry grit his teeth. Chad, one of the very few teens at Auradon prep that still harassed the vks, he was a bully and a thief, something Harry could respect on the isle but even on the isle you didn’t bully Uma without getting Harry’s hook to your face.

“I’ll ask ‘er when next time I see ‘er, we don’ have a lot of classes together, and her dance class ends after mine” Uma smirked at that, leaning into her hand.

“How are those going by the way?” Harry just let out a raspberry, and Uma fell back on Gil’s bed, laughing away.

The next day, after Harry's dance class, he waited outside (y/n)s room, standing awkwardly and out of place as others passed by him, some looking at him oddly while others ignored him or simply glanced at him.

There were one or two flirtatious looks but Harry ignored those, continuing to wait for (y/n). about fifteen minutes of waiting, the class finally ended, and as (y/n)s fellow dancers exited the room, many of them stared at him, whispering amongst themselves for a moment before one turned to him. “(y/n)s talking to Esmerelda, she’ll be in there for a moment” She had a strong French accent and Harry nodded in thanks, the group finally moving on as the girl who had spoken up pushed them away from the room.

After a couple more moments of waiting Harry got impatient, walking up to the door and peeking in, seeing (y/n) standing in front of Esmerelda, looking down at her feet “(y/n) your posture is perfect, your leg is always perfectly straight during the Penché, everything you do during practice is perfect but…there's just no…passion (y/n), where is it? You are only doing the steps, you aren’t feeling the music, where is the love, the sorrow, the yearning? This is a dance to convey two people falling in love (y/n), and I don’t see any of it coming from you” Harry felt his chest hurt as Esmerelda sighed, looking away from (y/n) who stayed silent. “(y/n) if you can't find the passion I need for the piece…I’m going to have to switch you out, I’m sorry” (y/n) looked up at that, and Harry couldn’t see her face but he could tell there were tears in her eyes “You are one of my best dancers (y/n), but without passion, you are doing nothing but following the steps.” (y/n) nodded slowly. Esmerelda smiled and took her chin “You just have to find your spark again, I know you can do it…I’ll see you tomorrow” (y/n) nodded again, turning to grab her bag.

Harry ducked out of the doorframe and went back to lean against the wall, looking down at his converse as he waited for (y/n). “Harry?” he looked up, (y/n) walking toward him from the door and tilting her head “What are you doing here?”

Harry smirked, it turning to a smile as (y/n) smiled back. Good, that meant she wasn’t super down from her talk with Esmerelda. “I was wonderin’ if yeh wanted ta help Uma n’ I prank Chad~” Harry had hardly finished his sentence before (y/n) grinned, stepping even close to him.

“Hell yes!” Harry shared her grin and offered his arm again, walking her out of the building and back to the dorms to Uma’s room, where Uma would tell them her plan.

Two days later, Chad’s hair was puke green. And he didn’t suspect a damn thing, even as (y/n) held her laughter as she stood next to him, sharing a sly thumbs up with Harry and Uma as they cackled at him.

“You’re definitely cut from a different fabric princess” Uma chuckled, Harry moving to the side of the bench he and Uma were sitting on as you walked over to them when Chad bolted off screaming after realizing his hair was green (for someone who stared at himself almost all day it took him a while to notice his hair) (y/n) grinned in thanks and plopped down next to Harry, not noticing Uma’s smirk as Harry scooted closer to (y/n).

“I’ll take that as a compliment” (y/n) laughed, leaning against the table and looking towards the door “How long do you think it’ll be before Chad suspects us?”

“Three days” Gil decided, suddenly appearing and sitting down next to Uma. And as usual, holding a bowl of grapes “I give it three days”

(y/n) hummed at that, tapping her fingers on the table “Well Chad is smart,” (y/n) laughed a bit at Uma and Harry's look of ‘really?!’ “I know shocking…well less smart more cunning, but I say he’ll either figure it out by the end of the day or he’ll bolt up in the middle of the night and then figure it out, can't say which or when, but it’s one of those”

“By the way,” Gil interrupted (y/n), pointing his finger right at her “who are you?” Gil had been out of the room every time (y/n) came over to Uma or Harry and Gil's room to plan for the plank, so oddly enough he had yet to meet (y/n) before today.

“Gil!” Harry hissed through his teeth, Uma smirking once more at his reaction. (y/n) laughed and held out her hand.

“I’m (y/n), (y/n) Charming, Chad’s sister” Gil took her hand and shook it, giving her a sympathetic look.

“I’m so sorry” (y/n) laughed again, unknowingly sending a flurry of butterflies through Harry again.

“Harry said the same thing a couple days ago, I accept your condolences” Gil released (y/n)s hand and went back to his grapes as Uma intertwined her hands and looked at (y/n)

“So you and Harry go to the same dance school, right? Do you ever dance together?” Harry felt his cheeks turn red at the question and he pouted at Uma, not really wanting to bring up the topic of the classes he hated so much.

“I guess? Different classes but same building, I’m a ballet dancer, been one since I was a kid. Harry, I think is still in the beginner class but Harry?” He glanced at (y/n) with a raised bro and a hum “You said Bert’s thinking of upgrading your placement?” Harry huffed and leaned on his hand.

“Aye, somethin’ bout me being a higher level than beginner, I dinne kae I din’ listen more than tha’” both Uma and (y/n) hummed at that. “I din’ even wan’ ta do the damn classes in the first place so I don’t see why I should level up or whatever” Harry grumbled, pouting at nothing.

Uma forced the grin off her face. Harry, ever since he had made friends with (y/n), started to be more…enthusiastic when going to the studio, no longer dragging his feet. And after the first time he picked up (y/n) from her class he did it the next day, and the next. Uma knew Harry and she knew he was catching feelings for the princess, even if he himself didn’t realize it yet.

Harry had only known the princess for about a month now, but Uma could tell when Harry liked someone, and he really-really liked (y/n), he wouldn’t admit it until he knew what words to connect his feelings yet but, Uma could wait.

Now, Uma wouldn’t do anything to push Harry and (y/n) together yet, she didn’t know if (y/n) shared any feelings about Harry, but once Uma did find out? Oooh, it was going to be fun.

But for now? Uma watched (y/n) and Harry talk, smiling behind her hand at the sparkle within Harry's eye, she would sit and watch their relationship bloom.

-end of part 2-

part 2~ hope yall enjoyed and like (y/n) so far, and i do want to put a *sprinkle* of angst in this so it'll come with (y/n)s struggle to show feeling in her dance and maybe some Chad shenanigan's anyway~ yeah i think this will be a 10 part series at most, and im liking where its going atm.

anyway im gonna draw a blue ballgown now because i don't like any of the designs i found on google or Pinterest

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@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

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@remembered-license @thecaptainsgingersnap @rintheemolion

@imtryingthisout @verboetoperee @jatp-rules-my-life

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #chads sister reader #chad charming #ballet dancer reader #dancer reader

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thetriggeredhappy · 5 years

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idk if you've done 31. speedingbullet before but oh man, that would be such a wholesome blessing ♡

missed the festival in town this year unfortunately bc travel reasons, time to live vicariously through these fictional 60s/70s gays again. (warnings for sappy, mentions of vomit in goof contexts, mentions of weed because im a creature, food)

31.) “Can I kiss you?”

One of these days, he’d figure out how to get Sniper out of his shell. He was sure of it.

He’d tried just about everything he could think of. He’d invited Sniper to the movies, to tag along to help with a shopping run, out to eat at three kinds of restaurants for lunch and two for dinner. Hell, he’d ended up roping Sniper into a double date, himself set up with a fiery-tempered girl who’d dumped a drink on his head and then written her number on his arm, Sniper with the tag-along friend who apparently needed to get out more. The date hadn’t gotten much of anywhere, the girl and him half-arguing the whole time and Sniper and the other girl staring at their plates and hardly even chiming in when invited. It had taken a bit of pestering to get Sniper to go out again after that.

He dragged Sniper to team meals, to bars, to clubs, to casinos. To a museum, to the farmer’s market, to a flea market. And each and every time he brought Sniper somewhere, the man ended up pacing along beside Scout, hands in his pockets, quietly chiding him when he got argumentative with civilians and quietly laughing at him when his bad luck had him making a fool of himself.

He just wouldn’t open up. Scout told him story after story, showed him all his own interests, presented every kind of joke he could think of, and the guy wouldn’t budge. Wouldn’t start telling his own jokes, wouldn’t start telling his own stories. Wouldn’t commentate on the things around them unless directly asked, and never once suggested where they should go next.

If Scout didn’t like a challenge so much, he would’ve ripped his own damn hair out.

The fair was his last resort. If he couldn’t get Sniper to open up somehow with the excitement and variety and overall greatness of an entire fair, then he was denouncing the man as a robot who did not feel things or have real emotions and turning him over to Engie for further study.

This was the middle day of the fair, meaning it was straight up bustling. Every stand had at least two people at it, and all the food booths had lines, and all the rides had even longer lines, and the number of teenagers stood around with each other was downright astronomical. This was a big fair, too, one of those harvest-type once-a-year nothing-else-ever-happens-in-this-state festivals that people would come from all over the place to go to. Engie had a lot to say on those kinds of things, and in fact had been the one to suggest Scout go check it out after hearing about it from some other old person when he was out doing some work-related supply run stuff.

Scout was most excited, as he often was, by the food.

The first thing they did once they got in the place was beeline to the first booth, some caramel corn thing, to get a small bag of it. Sniper commented lightly on his restraint. The second was to go to the next booth, which sold cotton candy. They got one cone to split between them. The third was to go to the next booth, which was one of those fair-specific food trucks. Sniper was starting to catch on.

“Aren’t these… well, the same sorts of food you can just find in a city somewhere?” Sniper asked, voice lowered so that only Scout could hear him.

Scout put on his best expression of complete shock and offense. “What! No, it’s totally different! The hell you talkin’ about? Fair food is awesome!”

“I mean… I’m not so sure, mate,” Sniper said carefully, glancing over the colorfully-painted sign.

“I—okay, hold on,” Scout instructed, and turned to pay as he was handed his latest portion of food, the Bucket ‘O Fries. “I mean, c’mon, check this out! It’s a bucket of french fries, what’s to dislike?”

Sniper looked at him blankly as they walked away from the food truck. Scout breathed in and began to elaborate.

“I mean, okay, the quality of the fries? Not great. I’ll admit, they’re fuckin’ shit, garbage oil sticks, and they’re also just straight up delicious. They’re the best trash. They’re the truck stop diner bacon of french fries. They’re tasty nightmares. I’m literally gonna like, sweat oil and salt after eating these, and it’s absolutely worth it. You can’t get this specific brand of perfect awfulness anywhere but at a fair. And, and? It’s in a bucket. That’s hilarious. Food in a bucket is awesome. Like, it’s maybe the closest a food place can get to calling its customers animals without making them eat from a trough, and I’m all about it. And you get to keep the bucket. Like, I just have a little plastic trash-lookin’ bucket now. What part of this isn’t objectively the greatest?”

Sniper considered the question. “Well, don’t imagine you’ll be able to eat all those,” he said after thinking about it for a moment. “So, not ideal.”

“Dude, don’t even worry about that. Best part of a carnival like this? They’ve got all this horrible garbage food, and like thirty feet away—“ He stopped in his tracks, and Sniper stopped as well, following his line of sight. “—They have spinny rides that’ll make you puke.”

Sniper was still. Scout watched him, waiting for a reaction. “Rides make you throw up?” he asked after a second.

“If I eat a whole fuckin’ bucket of french fries before I get on, then hell yeah they do,” Scout said cheerfully.

Sniper considered that, or maybe just stared at the ride and all of the screaming and hollering people aboard it.

“How many foods come in a bucket, y’think?” Sniper asked.

“Uh, you got fries,” Scout said, lifting his Bucket ‘O Fries to demonstrate his point. “You got fried chicken. I went to this place once with chicken tenders in a bucket with fries.”

“So just a combination of the first two,” Sniper said.

“Oh my god, what? Dude, no way, fried chicken and chicken tenders are wildly different, you kiddin’ me?” Scout gasped. “Barely the same food group!”

Sniper shifted his feet, still watching the ride. “How’re they different?”

“Don’t even get me started, man,” Scout warned.

“Do you even know the food groups?” Sniper asked next, voice flat in a way that Scout had learned meant Sniper was joking.

“Sniper, as a connoisseur of absolute garbage, you insult me,” Scout deadpanned back. “Let’s take some laps of the games and stuff before we go on the rides, I gotta have time to appreciate these fries before they’re being sent into a trash can.”

Sniper shrugged in agreement, following Scout as he started off towards some of the games.

Scout blew a good twenty dollars on the bottle ring toss game, pleased to hear Sniper chiming in every time he made a particularly bad throw. The next booth over had Scout making a repeat performance with the cane ring toss game, except he did manage to win himself exactly one prize, a sticky hand which only ended up directly in his pocket due to the look of immediate dismay on Sniper’s face when he saw Scout wielding it.

“Hey, if there’s one of those shooting games here, think you’d wanna play it? Show up some people?” Scout asked.

Sniper shook his head. “Mate, even out here in civvies,” he started, plucking at the shoulder of Scout’s civilian t-shirt and the chest of his own choice of clothing, a green-grey button-up, “I imagine an Australian washing out the place and a Boston bloke cheering him on would earn enough looks to get us recognized. Especially since you’ve still got the hat and I’ve the glasses.” He tapped first the bill of Scout’s hat, then the side of his own shades.

“Then we fake some accents,” Scout said cheerfully.

Sniper raised an eyebrow, which Scout had long learned was the closest thing to emoting that Sniper managed most of the time. “As if you know how to fake accents,” Sniper said, a note of disbelief showing through.

“What, you think I don’t?” Scout challenged, bumping elbows with him partially by accident as they needed to squeeze between two gaggles of people.

“Do one, then,” Sniper said simply.

Scout cleared his throat, raising his chin. “Oi, look ‘ere, mind tellin’ me where you might find a hotel ‘round ‘ere?” Scout said in an approximation of a lighthearted British accent.

Sniper stared at him. “The hell’d you learn to do that? That was damn well spot on,” Sniper said, both eyebrows raised now.

Scout kept grinning, ducking ahead for a second to squeeze between two intersecting lines of people. When Sniper caught back up he started explaining. “Me an’ one’a my brothers spent these two summers pullin’ this scam,” he started to explain. “We’d pretend to be tourists in town for tour group stuff, sneak into tour groups around the middle’a the day with these old busted cameras he got off people and fake accents so people thought we were from somewhere else, get into buffets for tour-specific stuff and eat for free and leave again,” he explained. “First summer we did it for like two months straight with different tours, second summer we only made it a month in before we had to cut it out.”

“Why?”

“His ex-girlfriend apparently got a job as a tour guide. That was, uh, the second time I ended up in custody that summer.”

“Hooligan,” Sniper murmured in a way that made Scout unsure if he was being made fun of, scolded, or congratulated.

They ended up at the ball toss at some point, which Scout did end up knocking out of the park a few times until the attendant told him to please move along already, reasoning that they already had a frankly ludicrous number of stuffed animals. Indeed, Sniper was carrying three large ones, and Scout had another one in the arm not carrying assorted food.

“I’m namin’ this guy Cotton Candy,” Scout said matter-of-factly, hefting the blue-pink-and-white rabbit up higher as it started to slip from his grip. “And I’m naming that guy Fry Bucket.”

“Which one?” Sniper asked, glancing between the three stuffed animals in his hand.

“That one,” Scout said, bumping a the yellow-and-purple-and-white-and-black slightly-suspicious-looking cat with his elbow. “Because the colors are bright like the bucket.”

“What about the other two?” Sniper asked.

“Eh, they’re yours, up to you.”

Sniper didn’t speak for a moment, just shifting the stuffed animals a bit. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t got a use for four of these guys,” Scout shrugged. “Already I’m thinkin’ about whether Pyro’s gonna want Fry Bucket or Cotton Candy more.”

“What’s that second name about?” Sniper asked. “Is that a brand?”

“…What?”

“Cotton candy.” Sniper’s accent wrapped around the words strangely. “That a specific kind? The, er, blue-pink stuff?”

“…Of cotton candy?” Scout asked slowly.

“Yeah. It’s fairy floss, so is cotton candy then just a certain—“

“It’s fuckin’ what?” Scout asked, eyes lighting up.

Sniper paused for a few seconds. “…You people made up your own name for somethin’ again, haven’t you?” Sniper asked, sighing.

“Fairy floss? Okay, let’s talk about this. Let’s talk about that name.”

“No, we already did this with the bonnet and hood thing, and the… prawn and shrimp thing. So you people call it cotton candy. Noted. Moving on.”

“So like, the tiny winged girls, fuckin’—so goddamn Tinkerbell, she brushes her teeth, right? And she’s gotta be thorough. Ain’t gonna get no gum disease here in fuckin’ Neverland, no way, no adults here so no dentists so that’d go pretty bad. So she’s gotta floss, right? And she uses a goddamn cloud-lookin’ pillowy thing? It’s fairy floss?”

“I didn’t invent all of Australian slang,” Sniper interjected. “You can’t judge me for my country’s choice in naming things. I can’t help it.”

“It’s cotton candy, man! It’s cotton, like outta some kinda pillow, made with sugar. I don’t get why you would call it somethin’ else.”

“Apparently Ireland and those blokes up there split the difference, called it candy floss,” Sniper added in before Scout could get too carried away.

“It’s still not floss! Couldn’t pick a different one? Called it, what, fairy cotton?”

Sniper’s lip twitched up for a moment. “I’m nearly sure that’s some sort of code word for hooch, mate.”

“What the fuck is hooch? Are you speaking English? Am I in fuckin’ wonderland right now?” Scout asked, downright baffled.

“Hooch. Marijuana, cannabis. Mate, you said you grew up in the city, the hell you mean you don’t know what hooch is?”

“Who the fuck calls it hooch?! Man, I knew that Australia was weird, but seriously, it’s gotta be crazy down there,” Scout laughed.

They continued to wander the fairgrounds for awhile longer, and while Sniper was a bit more talkative than usual, Scout couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination and his quietly trying to prompt Sniper into saying more. Eventually Scout could tell that the fairground was nearing closing time, crowd thinning alongside the various booths starting to close up shop and haul things away and lock stuff up for the night.

“I don’t think we’re gonna get around to that eating a ton of food and throwing up thing,” Scout said, a little bit put out.

“Sounds…” Sniper started to say, and stopped again quickly.

Scout waited. “What? What were you gonna say?”

Sniper hesitated. “I was going to say that it… sounds a bit juvenile, don’t you think?” he said slowly. “Not quite as fun as an adult.”

Scout considered that for a few seconds. “…Yeah. Maybe,” he conceded. “Haven’t done that since I was a teen. Might not be as great anymore.”

Sniper hummed. Scout kept talking, as he was used to.

“I mean, back then stuff was also pretty weird all the time,” he said, fidgeting with the handle on the fry bucket. “There was school, then practice, then I’d go home and have stuff with my brothers goin’ on all the time, some kinda shenanigans to pull. Now it’s just work, then I go do chores, then I’m all tired and don’t wanna do nothin’ except go to sleep, then I go to sleep and it’s the next day and I got work again. If I don’t got chores or whatever it’s fine, but man. When did I get all boring, y’know?”

“I don’t think you’re boring,” Sniper said quietly.

Scout looked at him, but couldn’t quite catch his expression the way he was holding the stuffed animals. “Huh? What’d you say?” he asked, fully aware but giving Sniper a chance to take that back or spin it into a joke the way just about everyone did.

“I don’t… I don’t think you’re boring,” Sniper said again, a bit louder now. “You’re interesting. You’ve got big opinions on just about everything, a million stories, a bunch of secret talents that only ever happen to come up at odd times. And you’ve got a lot of jokes. You’re…”

He trailed for a moment as they passed a small group of teens, chattering and laughing among themselves.

“You’re funny. You’re interesting,” Sniper said simply. “Not boring.”

Scout didn’t fight the smile that pulled at his face. “Well, look who’s gotten sweet all of a sudden,” he marveled aloud. Sniper readjusted the stuffed animals he was holding, bringing them closer to his face. “Well, speakin’ of sweet, want some more fairy floss before that place over there closes?”

Sniper nodded somewhere behind the layers of fluff and foam.

Their last stop was out towards the edge of the fairgrounds, the big ferris wheel they had set up. It was the tallest thing at the fair, no contest, and while it definitely wasn’t the biggest ferris wheel Scout had ever seen, or even been on, it was still surprisingly nice.

“Imagine that’s the sort that they need to break down to transport, rather than just keeping it on a trailer,” Sniper said almost offhandedly, following Scout’s line of sight.

“You know stuff about ferris wheels?” Scout asked, blinking.

Sniper shrugged. “Needed to for a job. Just the basics.”

“Huh. Cool.” Scout continued to look at the wheel. “Hey, I know sometimes they don’t shut those off at night, to like, promote the fair. Think they’ve still got an attendant working?”

“Probably not,” Sniper said, glancing around at the line of closed tents and booths around them.

“Wanna just hop on board?”

Sniper looked at him with a slight head tilt. “Why would we do that?”

Scout grinned. “Hey, we aren’t plannin’ on coming back here tomorrow, might as well make a grand exit and get kicked out,” he reasoned.

Sniper’s head tilted slightly further, almost disapproving. “We’d get arrested. The boss would be furious.”

“Assuming they call the cops and the cops get here before we’re gone. What’re they gonna do, be mad? Call our parents? Give us a stern lecture?” He elbowed Sniper. “Come on, let’s live a little!”

And then Scout was off, headed towards the wheel.

“I didn’t agree to this, technically,” Sniper said, hurrying to follow, voice slightly raised.

“But you’re gonna do it anyways!” Scout chimed.

Sniper did not argue that point.

The security was foolproof. A padlock and chain on a gate that was three feet high and had horizontal bars, as well as another lock on the control panel lever. Scout, known for his ability to jump vertically to well over his standing height, was quiet simply unequipped for such a challenge.

Sniper did have to hand over the stuffed animals before he could hop the gate, but soon Scout was placing Fry Bucket on lever duty and the other three nearby to stand guard, then he and Sniper were clambering into one of the cars and headed up.

It was going fairly slowly, to be fair. It took a solid minute for them to get only a bit above halfway up, and it spun them up backwards, meaning most of the view was obscured.

“Other wheels I went on usually spun the other way,” Scout commented lightly, kicking his feet up despite the slightly awkward angle. “Kept stopping to let people on and off, too. Way smaller, though.”

Sniper hummed. Silence fell.

Not long after they’d reached the apex and started heading back down again, Sniper sighed quietly. “I’m sorry if I got sharp with you,” he apologized, very serious. “I just… crowds aren’t much good to me. Too much noise, too much action. People too close. Gets me on edge.”

Scout was suddenly treated with the memory of just about every outing he’d gone so far as to take Sniper on, almost all of which involved crowds. “What?” he asked, taken aback. He pulled his feet down, sitting up. “Really? Dude, why didn’t you say nothin’? I’ve been takin’ you out to real bustlin’ places for like, two months!”

Sniper made a listless gesture. “Didn’t want to ruin your fun just because I’m a worrywart,” he replied, even quieter now. “And I doubt you’ve got many places you know that don’t involve whole masses of people. It’s your whole element.”

Scout couldn’t really argue with that. “Well, then I would’ve been letting you pick where we hang out,” he said stubbornly.

Sniper’s eyebrows drew together. “What? I thought you just wanted someone to bring with you when you went out,” Sniper said, clearly confused.

Scout blinked. “Dude, no. I’ve just been tryin’ to find a place you’d like to hang out in, see if I could get you to talk about anything. You’re always all quiet, I figured it was because you’re bored.”

“Of course not. Opposite, really. Gets overwhelming, I try my best to shut my mouth and pay attention.”

Scout needed a minute to loop his head around that. “Oh. Huh.” They reached the bottom of the wheel, but neither moved to get up, and they just continued on their steady path up again. “I… shit. Dude, I had no idea. I thought you were just hard to please.”

Sniper shook his head. “No. The places are always nice—this is nice—but I just…”

He trailed off. Scout waited for him to sort through his words.

“I just prefer… things like this,” he decided on. “Instead of noises and movement and close quarters and a hundred food smells.”

Scout’s mind went ahead and dealt with that one for a good minute. “Close quarters,” he repeated. “So this isn’t good either?”

“With other people, other folks,” Sniper clarified. “I’m fine with closed spaces.”

“Well, I’m other folks,” Scout said.

Sniper looked away, off to one side. “Not really,” he said, words almost lost to a breeze that decided to blow by just then. “You’re just Scout. I’m fine with you.”

Quiet again.

They made it to the top of the ride again, and Scout found himself relaxing a little bit. He tilted his head back.

“Can’t see the stars out here so good,” Scout said, looking up at the sky.

“Light pollution,” Sniper murmured in agreement, looking up as well. “I can hardly see any at all.”

“You’ve still got your shades on,” Scout half-laughed.

Sniper reached a hand up as if to push his glasses up his nose, and just kept his hand there on them for a few seconds.

“C’mon, not so many stars, by they’re still good ones,” Scout urged.

Sniper hesitated for a moment before he pulled the shades off, folding them, hanging them on his shirt. His gaze fell down below for a moment, then up to the sky. He had pretty eyes. There were some wrinkles around them, the kind of thing that meant Sniper either laughed a lot, or spent a lot of time in the sun, or a mixture of both. Scout realized he’d probably have his own pretty soon with his lifestyle. He found a lot of things funny.

Sniper briefly glanced at Scout out of the corner of his eye, then back away again.

“You’re staring,” Sniper said quietly, gaze falling to the tents and stands as they started on the inward down curve.

Scout looked away, also out at the area they’d just been in. Only a few places still had lights around them. The area was mostly dark, the tent blockings around them lit mainly by the gently changing lights on their ferris wheel. “You should take your shades off more,” Scout said.

Sniper shifted. “I use ‘em at work,” he replied. “They help me shoot.”

“You weren’t at work today, or any of the other times we went and did stuff,” Scout replied, tipping his head against the back of the seat, rolling his head to look at Sniper. Tiredness was creeping up on him, not in a cranky way, just in a lazy way.

“Why would I take ‘em off?” Sniper asked, not looking at him.

“So I can know where you’re lookin’,” Scout shrugged. “And because you look good, and they hide your face.”

Sniper’s eyes fell to his own knees, which he gripped in both hands. “Maybe that’s the point,” he said, voice rumbling against the lowest volume he could manage.

Scout kept looking at him, then back up at the sky as they made it to the upper half.

“Scout, I have a question,” Sniper said, eyes locked downward.

“Mm,” Scout hummed.

Sniper took a breath, exhaled. Looked over at Scout, made eye contact, maybe for the first time without the barrier of tinted, reflective lenses in the way. “Can I kiss you?”

Scout wasn’t sure what his expression was in the following several moments of silence, but it made Sniper tense, paling under the colorful lights, visibly sinking at roughly the same speed as the car they were in as they passed the apex.

“I’m sorry, I just—“ he started to stammer, backtracking as Scout did his best to mentally try and sort out the can of worms that was just opened. “I thought, we—ferris wheel, you sayin’ that I’m, I’m good looking, and—“

Scout saw the way he was fidgeting, fiddling, hands no longer able to be stuffed in his pockets to prevent it.

“—and you won those stuffed animals for me s’well, and you’ve been taking me to dinner, tryin’ to make me laugh, and—“

He couldn’t quite look at Scout, and maybe he could never quite look at Scout, and maybe that’s why he never took his sunglasses off. Maybe that’d why he kept his hat’s brim low. Maybe that’s why he held things up near his face.

“—and I just assumed, I, I’m sorry, I’m godawful at picking up the clues on that sort of thing, and maybe I just imagined things, I—“

“Do you wanna?”

Sniper’s rambling stammered to a halt. He didn’t look at Scout. “What?”

“Hey. Look at me.” It took a minute, but he did, tipping his head up first, eyes following a second later. Crow’s feet. “Do you wanna kiss me?”

Sniper managed the tiniest of nods.

“Out loud,” Scout added, voice level.

Sniper took a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like to,” he said.

Scout tilted his head up for a second. They were headed back up and over again. Stars.

“Yeah,” Scout decided. “You can, if you want.”

Sniper had to take a second to process that. But then, slowly, he placed his hand on Scout’s shoulder. He second-guessed himself, hand moving instead to rest on Scout’s cheek, tilting his face only on accident, and then Sniper was kissing him.

It felt nice. Scout reached up slowly so as to keep from scaring Sniper away, an arm wrapping up around his shoulders.

By the time they pulled away, they were at the bottom of the wheel again. Sniper managed to smile at him, so visibly relieved and contented that it almost left Scout reeling, the sudden input of reaction making his head spin.

“You taste like fries,” Sniper informed him quietly.

Scout laughed.

#sniperscout #speeding bullet #my fanfiction #shut up me #my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #im sleeby this probably has errors but shrug

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taegijae-blog · 7 years

Text

BREAKFAST DELIVERY 7

pairing: 2jae

genre: fluff, if you squint there’s angst

word count: 2k

description: the school’s hottest boy im jaebum wants to get a certain boy’s number. but the first problem is: he’s unhappy and not eating.

status: completed

note: this was originally posted on wakaba’s wattpad @/jaeholics

| part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

"Um... when should I pay you back?"

"Don't."

"Ah," Youngjae muttered quietly. Although it was sort of rude of him to say that, he felt oddly touched. "But maybe if we go out to eat somewhere again, I could pay next time? I could, um, text you or something about it."

Def Soul looked up from his phone and his lips had a small gap in between them. "...You're offering me your number?"

"Yes?" Youngjae blinked. "Is there... something wrong with it?"

Internally, Jaebum was screaming. "Ah, it's nothing. Here," he mumbled while frantically opening his contacts on his phone, "this is my number."

"Okay." Youngjae punched in the number and entered it as a contact on his own phone, naming him '???-hyung.'

Def Soul cleared his throat loudly to try and calm himself down. He’d done it; he’d gotten his crush's number. It was unfortunate that he did so with his disguise of 'Def Soul,' though, and not as a simple Im Jaebum. Perhaps he could just reveal himself later once the two get closer, as a lighthearted surprise.

It'll be that easy, right?

Getting up from his seat, Def Soul went over to the counter and waited patiently for his order to be ready. The employee handed him a cup of vanilla ice cream and a coffee milkshake, which he held carefully with both hands back to where Youngjae awaited. His eyes visibly sparkled at the presence of good-looking sweets.

"Did you want toppings for that?"

"Oh. no, I think this is fine, but thank you."

"Mhm." He sipped on his milky drink, but he didn't pick up his phone for he decided to drop the cool act and actually, well, talk. Converse. "Youngjae, is that right?"

"Yes?" Youngjae replied with widened eyes and a mouthful of ice cream. He gulped nervously, thinking Def Soul was about to ask something serious from his posture and stone hard expression.

"Is it good?"

"Huh? Oh—oh!" Youngjae sputtered when realizing what he was talking about, swallowing his mouthful of ice cream. "It's really good. Do you want some?" he asked, lifting up a spoonful of it as an offering. Def Soul hesitantly leaned forward and opened his mouth. He made a cute 'Ahh~' sound when doing so, which caused Youngjae to giggle softly. After chomping on the spoon, Def Soul nodded his head while eating the ice cream.

Youngjae's cheeks grew a bit pink. everything about what was going on resembled a cute couple's date.

Another five minutes or so passed while they talked about various things like school subjects they hated, which animals make best pets and so on. Both of them enjoyed their conversation, and they were breaking the awkward barrier between them quickly.

It might've been just him, but Youngjae sometimes felt that Def Soul was flirting with him.

Just then, Def Soul's phone vibrated. He unlocked it and read through the text messages he got from Rap Mon. He and BamBam had finished with their shopping but apparently were at a store across from the shopping mall. Def Soul sighed and put down his phone.

"Youngjae-ah. BamBam says that we'll have to go across the street to meet them. Are you ready to leave?"

"Mhm," Youngjae hummed. He was significantly more cheerful than he was an hour ago, and seeing him so happy made Def Soul feel accomplished. He'd probably be perfect boyfriend material for him.

"Let's go, then." After Youngjae stood up as well, Def Soul grabbed his hand gently and led him out the store. Unlike the first time he touched him, Youngjae was eager to hold onto him and leaned even closer to him as they walked.

There was a few seconds left to the nearby crosswalk by the time they were out the mall. Def Soul tugged on the hand he held onto and fast-walked to reach it in time, Youngjae following diligently.

They almost reached the other side when walking man on the light turned into a big hand. From a distance, a car's horn blasted increasingly loudly. It took a while for Youngjae to comprehend what was going on, but Def Soul was quick.

His arm wrapped around Youngjae's waist and forcefully tugged him forward. He didn't understand why until a harsh breeze blew past him and saw that Def Soul was flipping off someone. He turned his head around to see a large car speeding ahead, which shouldn't have been riding that quickly nearby a crosswalk to begin with.

"God. some people, I swear," Def Soul muttered to himself angrily, which for a second Youngjae thought was referring to himself.

"Sorry, hyung..."

"Hm?" he peered down at Youngjae without budging his arm away from his waist. "Ah, I was talking about that driver. He almost ran you over."

Youngjae mouthed 'oh' and licked his upper lip. He had forgotten that Def Soul was holding onto him until his arm tugged him forward again, this time gently. The two were walking casually once more, although the skinship was significantly more embarrassing for Youngjae.

Meekly, and whilst watching his feet take small steps, Youngjae pulled Def Soul's hand away from his waist and instead held onto it. He absolutely refused to say a thing since he'd be too ashamed to explain himself.

Basically, Youngjae missed witnessing the hint of red that was growing on Def Soul's face.

🍽

That mall trip was pretty nice.

Unfortunately for Youngjae, he was too afraid to text the seemingly emotionless and intimidating Def Soul. If he did have the courage to do so, he would've suggested going out for lunch or something like that. Maybe.

Since sunday night, he'd been reopening his contacts, memorizing the phone number, opening his messages app, spending five minutes considering whether he should text him or not, and opening his contacts again because by that time he had forgotten the number. He finally realized he should stop doing that when he noticed it was eleven o'clock and that he should sleep instead.

🍽

Youngjae was reminded of the last note he had gotten from the mystery food donator.

Send that person a note, too.

In the middle of his first period class, he took out a notecard decorated with clouds, since he had bought a pack of weather-related notecards, like the kind that either teachers or middle school girls would buy. He searched for his blue ink pen and started jotting down on the card, stuffing it in his pocket so he wouldn't forget about it later.

The bell rang and the students rushed out of the classroom. Youngjae was mixed into that crowd and squished by the number of heavy backpacks shoving into him. When he glanced towards his destination down the hallway, he could see the ever so popular and well-liked Im Jaebum standing with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He took a hand out and waved to someone, clearly staring at the crowd that was leaving Youngjae's first period classroom.

Huh, well. i guess someone in my class is his friend.

And of course, Youngjae didn't know that Jaebum was waving at him to get his attention.

🍽

His second period class finally over and it was lunchtime. He was sure to not forget about the notecard he had prepared and no matter how childish it seemed of him, the idea of talking to someone anonymous was exciting. Would he ever find out who it is? If he does, how? Those sort of things piqued his interest and curiosity.

Youngjae headed for his english classroom, which was just a few rooms down the hall. He was relieved to see that the room was unlocked, since most places without a teacher are kept locked. He went to his empty desk and smacked the notecard there, folding it in half. He crossed his fingers that the person wouldn't be absent that day, or else he'd just feel like an idiot.

As he was heading out the classroom, he almost bumped into someone quite a bit taller than him, and quickly apologized. He peered up only to see the Im Jaebum. What was his business here?

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, not feeling quite too comfortable with being in an awkward situation with him. Jaebum didn't do much except for look at the shorter one, causing him to wince under that intimidating glare. He reached out to pat Youngjae's shoulder with a touch so gentle that it surprised him.

Jjust be careful next time," he replied flatly as he entered the classroom. Youngjae was so embarrassed and flustered that he started running down the hallway, not even thinking about how suspicious it was for Jaebum to be going into that room.

Jaebum, meanwhile, took out a rather high end bag of cookies and placed them on Youngjae's desk, squinting at the notecard on the surface. Was that why he was in the class just now? he traded his note for the one left on the desk, unfolding it and reading the neat handwriting:

will you cook something for me?

Jaebum paused for a second and started laughing to himself.

"That's not even a question, Choi Youngjae.

I'll cook the greatest thing ever for you."

#breakfast delivery #2jae #2jae fluff #youngjae #jaebum #jaebum fluff #youngjae fluff #got7 #got7 fluff #wakaba #yugyeom #kim yugyeom #jinyoung #park jinyoung #jackson wang #mark tuan #bambam

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codename-bewareofthefangirl · 7 years

Note

Hiiiiiiii admin! Im so happy you are willing to write a sequel of that cheating scenario yieeh! Please make a happy ending this time. They forgive their s/o something like that? It's up to you on how you want the story will go :'---) Grazie mille ♡

Hi dear! I’m finallyhere, sorry if it took some time! I don’t know if you’ve read my other post(you can found it under #cheating or something similar) but in the end I’vedecided to introduce a second s/o. I hope you enjoy it either way, because I’vehad a lot of fun writing this!

Kasamatsu Yukio

Kasamatsu was walking down a crowded streetabsentmindedly. It was winter and light snow fell from the dark sky, shining thanksto the city lights and giving everything a giddy and special atmosphere.Couples and group of friends chatted excitedly in their colorful coats andthought up plans for the near holidays; children squashed their faces againstthe shop windows pointing at toys and planning their letters to Santa.

He sighed, with the mouth covered by a blue scarf andtook a small detour passing through a slightly less crowded park. It was then,that he heard an unusual sound. Looking around, he finally found where it wascoming from.

You were seated on the roadside, curled up in yourlight jacket and with red cheeks. You were sobbing quietly and big tears rolleddown your face, hidden between the knees. Next to you, there was anhalf empty plastic glass with…something in it.

Kasamatsu stopped by instinct and searched for someoneelse ready to help you. He stiffened, seeing that nobody who was going to stopor even glance at you. He could have turned his back to you too; after his lastexperience, he had returned as before: incapable to relate with girls, even themost common and usual exchange could leave him frozen or in a stuttering mess.

You sobbed a bit more, hugging your knees tighter.

Kasamatsu huffed, straightening his back, and movedsome careful steps in you direction.

“Ehm…g-girl…” you obviously didn’t react since he hadonly growled inaudibly and he came closer.

“O-oi,” called you again clumsily, with his handsstuck in the pockets of the jeans, “Are you okay?” asked, and immediately cursedhimself. It was obvious you weren’t okay, what kind of stupid question wasthat?

You blinked surprised and raised your head, rubbingyour eyes to identify who had spoken to you.

“I-I’m okay…” you sobbed trying to fake a smile forthe unknown boy who was standing in front of you. He arched an eyebrowdeadpanned.

“You don’t seem so…” he muttered, shifting uncomfortablyon his feet. A crying girl was even worse than a happy one. It pained him buthe totally didn’t know how to make things better.

You bit your bottom lip, attempting to stop crying,but it didn’t work well.

“…I’m not.” You then admitted, lowering your gaze tothe ground.

Kasamatsu felt slightly more hopeful: you had answered‘till now and had stopped sobbing, it was going well. Or at least better thanhe had thought

“Do you…need help?” offered woodenly, noticing yourskin was white pale and that jacket didn’t seem warm enough.

At his kind words, a small smile escaped your lips.

“If you can slap me for being stupid, yes.” Youreplied bitterly and he widened his eyes horrified.

“Sorry, I can’t.” he stuttered embarrassed, hoping ferventlyyou were joking.

“Thought so.” You commented with a shrug and a sadgrin.

Kasamatsu, still standing, decided to make a move.Since he couldn’t bring himself to let you there like that, he was going to dothings properly. He awkwardly sat down next to you, without pressing you andjust staying silent.

You felt somehow comforted; it made you feel lesslonely.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” he whispered,watching the pedestrians coming and going without bothering with a crying girland a stiff guy.

And, damn, you wanted to. Even if you didn’t even knowhim. You needed to let it out, even with a stranger. Who cared? He probablyalready thought you were crazy so you couldn’t sink lower than that.

“I broke up with my boyfriend.” You blurted, dryingclumsily your cheeks, “Because he cheated on me.”

Kasamatsu saddened holding his breath, but let you speak.

“He had been cheating on me for two months.” Youadded, letting flow all the regrets and the pain, “And I knew it, from thestart. When, with who, why…I knew it all. But I was too afraid to remain aloneto say anything. I didn’t even have to courage to face him until today.” Yourevealed, gritting your teeth and new tears spilling. Kasamatsu looked at youand realized he mustn’t have looked different that famous day; but he had hadfriends by his side and it had been a clean cut. You seemed very fragile andalone in that moment and he felt uneasy seeing you like that.

“Are you crying for yourself or for him?” he askedquietly and the question took you by surprise, making you crack a smile.

“Probably both.” At first you answered, but thensnorted, “No wait, for me. At the moment I feel childish and hurt, so for me.”

Your honest answer made Kasamatsu smile.

“That’s good then.” Replied softening his expression,than he pointed at the glass, “And that?” he inquired furrowing his brows. Youseemed lucid, but in any case, a drunk girl alone was…

“Don’t worry.” You reassured him with a shrug, “It’sjuice, just for appearances. I don’t have the guts to get drunken alone in thestreet. And somehow it would have probably made me feel even more pitifultomorrow.” You explained ashamed, but to your surprise, finally the strangerchuckled.

You blinked at him, smiling a little too.

“Yeah, I agree.” He told you amused, but when henoticed you looking at him with awe he blushed and stiffened again.

“However,” he continued, “It would be better going.It’s late and you’re freezing.” He suggested you, worried.

“I’ve been here for more than an hour.” You explainedbashfully, rubbing your hands to warm them a bit.

He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you have absolutely to go home.” Remarked grumpily.

You exhaled and nodded, stretching and standing upwobbling; you felt lighter than when you had sat down.

He did the same and you could feel his gaze on you.

“I’ll walk you home.” He stated suddenly, “It’sdangerous at night.” Added as an embarrassed explanation, averting his gaze.

You widened you eyes surprised and noddedmechanically. Better than being alone, anyway.

“Thank you…?” you realized midway you didn’t know hisname.

“Kasamatsu. Kasamatsu Yukio.” He introduced himselfshyly, before taking off his scarf and offering it to you. “And take this,before you lose your nose.”

Two months later, while you were walking hand in handwith Kasamatsu, he suddenly stopped; you looked up and noticed him widening hiseyes in surprise. Following his stare, you found a pretty girl on the otherside of the street, who was looking at the two of you with the same expressionhe had. She was holding hands and with another girl.

Kasamatsu slowly raised his hand as in an awkwardgreeting; she, surprised, smiled fondly and then bowed to him. Your boyfriendnodded at her, relaxing, and tugged you away with a strange smile on his lips.

“Who was she?” you asked curious looking back at thetwo girls who walked away too, but he shook his head lightheartedly.

“Just another piece of past that found its place.” Heanswered quietly, before planting a kiss on your forehead.

Takao Kazunari

“When are you going to go away?” Midorima growledexasperated looking up from his computer, but he received only a laughter asreply.

Takao was lazily sprawled on the couch, reading atextbook while humming softly. And annoyingly.

A week before he had asked hospitality to his bestfriend until he found a new apartment for himself; luckily Midorima had anextra bed and even if the place was cramped they were managing to survive.Well, partially. Midorima was sure his mental stability had been definitelydamaged, especially since the guy was so down he hadn’t gone outside even once.

“Sorry, Shin-chan!” he mused, highlighting happilysome key words. And resumed singing.

Midorima wanted to murder him.

Luckily, someone knocked at the door and saved him.

Midorima arched an eyebrow confused.

“Were you waiting for someone?” Takao asked curiously.

“Not really.” He replied perplexed, before a chirpingvoice called him.

“Shin-chan! It’s me!”

Midorima sighed rubbing his temples and Takao straightenedsurprised.

“Shin-chan?” repeated amused.

When finally Midorima opened the door, you flashed himyour better smile.

“Good evening Shin-chan, sorry to bother!” you greetedhim happily, swinging on your feet.

“What is this time, s/o?” he asked feeling alreadytired and exasperated. His expression made you chuckle; damn, he was soamusing.

“Some of my t-shirts fell on your balcony!” youexplained with a shrug, “It’s windy today.” Added with another innocent smile.

He stared at you in silence.

“So you haven’t thrown them down because you remainedagain without food and hoped I would offer you something, since now all theshops in the area are closed?” asked deadpanned and you grimaced for a second.

Well, he was starting to learn after six months ofneighboring.

“Please, Shin-chan! I was studying for an exam anddidn’t go grocery shopping!” you begged, batting your eyelashes, and yourstomach decided to roar in protest too. You blushed a bit at the sound it made,but Midorima snorted.

“Ah, you laughed!” you pointed immediately and herolled his eyes, wearing his composed mask again.

“I didn’t.” he denied, but opened you the door, “Butsince I don’t want to be denounced for starving you, enter.” Surrendered andyou exulted happily, walking past him. You knew from the start that Midorimawould have accepted and helped you in any case, but you also knew that deepdown he enjoyed your strange and fun antics. After those months and a goodnumber of misadventures, you had become friends.

Only when you reached the living room, you noticedthere was another guy inside, who had enjoyed your conversation with Midorimafrom the couch.

“Hi!” he singsonged with shining and glinting eyes,raising his hand.

You blinked and tilted your head at him, you hadalready seen him sowhere…

“Ah!” you suddenly exclaimed pointing a finger at him,“The Shin-chan Inventor!” you recognized him.

Takao widened his eyes and burst into laughter.

“What?” asked entertained and you reached himbouncing.

“I’m S / O! Nice too met you!” you introduced yourselfstretching a hand.

“I’m Kazunari Takao.” He replied shaking it and youjumped on the couch behind him, crossing your legs as if you were at home.

“You know, I transferred from my hometown in springfor university! During the first weeks I was here, I was on the balcony and Iheard you calling my adorable neighbor “Shin-chan”, while going away, and Ifell in love it! I’m so happy to meet you again!” you explained grinningwidely.

“I know, it suits him perfectly.” He smirked, noddingconvinced. “You are…?”

“The upper neighbor!” you explained cheerfully, “Imade friend with Shin-chan after I remained closed outside my room and he wasthe only one who welcomed me.” Chirped and Takao whistled.

“I didn’t know Shin-chan had other friends other thanme.” He joked.

“She’s just a hungry girl and serial user.” Midorimacommented from the kitchen, but you knew he wasn’t being serious and chuckled.

“Pork instant ramen for me!” you shouted to tease himand received a curse as reply.

“One for me too!” Takao added angelically.

“You’ve already eaten.” Midorima hissed.

“Please, Shin-chan!” he whined making you laugh.

“No.” he refused, but both of you knew he was going toprepare three cups of instant ramen.

“He’s such a tsundere.” You whispered giggling toTakao.

“Yeah, we need to warm him up more.” He consideredmischievously, “He needs more love and company, our Shin-chan.”

“Totally!” youagreed laughing.

“Please don’t.” Midorima commented coldly returning inthe room, while his worst nightmare became true under his own eyes.

“Don’t be shy, Shin-chan. And why you have neverintroduced her to me before?” Takao asked faking a pout and he rolled his eyes.

“Because both of you’re annoying enough when alone, Ican’t take you together.” He muttered, fixing his glasses, and you exchanged asmirk with Takao.

“That’s a pity, because I’m going to give him mynumber and hang out with you from now on.” You purred innocently, taking outthe phone from the shorts’ pocket.

At your offer, Takao imperceptibly stiffened and hissmile became more careful. He was still recovering and if you were that type ofrushing girl, he couldn’t take it at the moment.

However, youmanaged to notice the change and tilted your head curiously.

“You’re a basketball player, right?” you asked morequietly, “I was too! We could play all together sometimes!” you proposed tryingto contain your excitement. “Ah, if you prefer we can use Shin-chan as ourcarrier pigeon at first, if you prefer.” Added kindly attempting to dissipatehis uneasiness and lowering your phone. You didn’t know why he had reacted likethat, but it was okay; you just wanted to know him a little better and have funwith him and Midorima. You believed Takao was more suited to be carefree and smilingas some minutes earlier, instead of worried like that.

“Don’t drag me into this.” Midorima mumbled.

Takao looked at your eyes shining and the diffidence hehad felt vanished: you were being totally transparent and straightforward; youhad felt his change and taken a step back to ease him. You wanted only tobefriend him. He didn’t think about worrying about you anymore and instead, hefelt for the first time in a week the wish to enjoy himself.

“Yeah, we should.” he agreed taking his phone too, “Meand you could probably kick Shin-chan’s ass.”

Some months later, you were running to the basketballcourt where you should have met Takao ten minutes before. You were late becauseof an endless lesson and had forgot your phone home, but you hoped yourboyfriend wasn’t going to pout for it.

When you finally arrived, you found Takao talkingquietly with another girl. You froze for a second, panting, and analyzed their expressions:there was a strange bittersweet fondness in their eyes, but a polite smileshined on their lips.

You felt a pang of jealousy and shifted uncomfortablyon your feet, not knowing what to do, but the girl noticed you. Seeing how shegot distracted, Takao turned too and smiled at you.

“Ehi, S/o-chan!” he called you brightly, gesturing towalk towards him.

You rushed immediately and the uneasiness vanished inthe exact moment he wrapped an arm around your waist and gave you a kiss on thecheek.

“This is my girlfriend.” He introduced you proudly andyou nodded shyly, but the other girl smiled happily at you.

“Nice to meet you.” She greeted you kindly and yourelaxed more.

“Now, I have to go so I’ll leave you to your date!”she excused herself, smiling at Takao and then at you, “Take care of him, heneeds it.” She joked winking.

“Yeah I know.” You chuckled while Takao whined rollinghis eyes. “Don’t worry.” Assured her and she nodded, somehow relieved.

“See you Takao, s/o!” she said before walking waywhile waving a hand in the air.

“Who was she?” you asked to Takao and he scratched theback of his neck.

“A person I cared for but that hurt me in the past.” Heexplained roughly, but you understand what he wasn’t saying.

“Is everything okay?” you inquired, studying hisexpression, but he seemed normal.

“Yes, now it is.” He answered in a hum, “She had adate too, otherwise she would have probably stop to befriend you.” he snortedshaking his head and you chuckled.

“Next time maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

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