#- my handwriting is illegible in that one. i apologize lol

[kursed-curtain]

Occasionally I like thinking about 3 Adventurer crossover scenarios with my Graham AUs

and this one sort of led to... Saltin (and not Graham) pulling a Mako and unreasonably antagonizing Guybrush and Guybrush only. Graham has no idea why.

Bonus: Saltin's horrible, no-filter brain strikes again!

[kiwilikestma]

As my first original post on this sideblog,

Have my Magnus Protocol conspiracy board. Finally got around to doing it (I took notes as I listened to the episodes, not all of them are on there tho)

I am Very Normal about this

(No I’m not)

I apologize if they’re illegible lol I have kind of messy handwriting and the pictures a bit blurry, might take a better one or write out a transcript of it later

Also some pics of my old one I did on my phone for Magnus Archives as a bonus

(I didn’t have a cork board yet or it probably would be on one lol)

[mothofspacetime]

I could have sworn there was an idea there...

every time I get an idea for an animation lol

I've got a few ideas lying around but i can't stop making new ones

I apologize for my illegible handwriting in some spots

[a-really-good-lawyer-abandoned]

I learned cursive in the 3rd grade (age 8) as a kid as part of the usual curriculum. By the time I got to junior high (grade 7 - age 12/13) our teachers were asking us not to write in cursive, because it was often illegible to those teachers.

This was before the time when students were expected to have access to computers. My own family didn't have a computer until I was 15 (IIRC), which would have been 1999. And when you're in classes that have you writing papers that are 10, 20, 40 pages handwritten, the handwriting in the latter parts of those papers tended devolve as the student tired, especially when we were younger (I wrote a 42 page paper on the state of Utah when I was 10 and I have no idea how my teacher understood it lol). So we were all asked for our 'clean copy', the one we submitted, to be in 'printed' letters. A lot of us fell out of practice around that time.

I've also wondered if it might have been because of accessibility issues as well. I can't speak to anyone else's experiences, but I had some minor problems with dyslexia back then (not that anyone knew) and reading cursive forced me to essentially translate what I was reading, examining one word at a time when normally I read in multi-line chunks and let my brain fill in the gaps for me, so the order of letters and words don't matter so much. I think a lot of people read via pattern recognition like that, but I could be wrong.

I know that @mari--lace 's example is only readable for me because of context clues, and that's not because of the handwriting. My brain just...can't recognize it. I've read things written in the most beautiful, neat calligraphy, and it just looks like a bunch of fancy nonsense to me 😅 Maybe if the schools forced us to keep up the practice when I was growing up it would be different, but who knows?

Apologies for hoping on the post, but I figured I'd add in my own account

I was today years old when I found out Americans don't write in italic? (on paper, I mean)

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Take a Chance | college!au | (p.2)

Peter Parker x reader

Part one

Masterlist

Summary: You have a routine. It may seem boring to some, but you like it. Until, some honey-eyed boy comes along to mess it all up, but maybe you like him too. Maybe.

Word count: ~4.2k

Warnings: Reader is referred to by she/her pronouns. Some second-hand embarrassment lol

A/N: Thank you for the likes on my first chapter. I hope you guys like this one too. Let me know if there are any mistakes, and thanks for reading!

You finally flip through the last page, just about to put your things away and make your way back to your dorm when you see a shadow lay across the table. You look up to see a familiar smile. 

“Do you ever read anything besides The Great Gatsby?” Peter asks with a teasing grin. 

You tense at his words. It was hard enough to focus with him away, but now that he’s standing in front of you? There’s no chance as you settle back into your seat. “Well, I would’ve finished reading this a lot faster if your handwriting wasn’t so illegible,” you quip back with a smile just as wide.

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as he apologizes. “I completely forgot I even did that. But I really liked a lot of what you wrote. Honestly, that’s the most I’ve really paid attention to an assigned reading before.”

You wave him off. “Oh, it’s no problem. You seem to get the themes of this book. Better than I get them apparently,” you grumble.

He frowns at your response. “But your thoughts in the book made a lot of sense.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t all there when doing the discussion. Just an off day.” You quickly decide against telling him what led to you feeling so out of it.

Peter starts talking more about the book and your ideas he liked. He stands above you with a backpack on and tray in his hands. You don’t want to make him stand the whole time so you motion towards the seat across from you, and he sits down without missing a word. You assume he’s trying to help you out with the discussion questions, or just trying to distract you from it. 

Your conversation naturally shifts to getting to know each other, and your body relaxes a bit more. He’s a biology major, which seems pretty fitting. You learn about his friends back home, Ned and MJ. And about his love for Star Wars and everything nerdy. He’s even got a knowledge bowl competition this weekend — you didn’t even know your college had one of those. 

He nearly shoves his dinner into his mouth while listening intently to you talk about your interests and major, seeming much more focused than he’s ever been in class. 

You appreciate his focus, but how can someone eat so much in such a short amount of time? It seemed he grabbed two of everything in the dining hall. It is honestly impressive. As the conversation continues, you feel more comfortable talking to him, even ending up stealing a couple of his fries off his tray while talking — he tries protesting, but his mouth is too full of burgers. By the time he’s finished eating, you’ve put away your food, ready to head back to your room. You enjoy talking with him, but you already stayed here longer than you had planned.

He puts his stuff away as well, walking back to you. “Hey, I was thinking I could walk you back to your dorm since it’s getting kinda late.”

You look out of the dining hall’s windows quirking an eyebrow. “Peter, the sun hasn’t even gone down yet.”

“Yeah…well, I know that. But it’ll be going down soon,” he says with a sheepish smile. You notice his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeves again, the threads wearing a bit from the repeated stress.

“I wouldn’t mind having someone to walk back with. Though I hope it’s not too out of the way for you. I’m in Anderson Hall.”

“Oh no, it’s okay. I’m in Crawford so it’s not a bad walk. Not that I was really worried about that.”

You smile, happy your day has gotten better. You two begin walking across campus while talking about random things. He tells you a story about somehow accidentally locking himself out of his window while on the fire escape, just in his boxers. You laugh so hard you have to walk a bit slower to catch your breath.

“How does that even happen, Peter? You probably scarred some poor grandma walking by,” you laugh out.

He can’t stop a splitting smile from spreading across his face, chuckling along with you. “Hey, our windows would get stuck sometimes, and that was just my unlucky time.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What were you even doing on the fire escape in your underwear in the first place?” You ask, squinting your eyes at him.

He lets out a few breathless laughs, trying to find the words. “Well, that’s a whole different story. For another time.”

“What! You can’t just leave me hanging,” you say. When he shakes his head, mouth zipped shut, you declare, “I’ll get it out of you one day, Peter.”

In your slowed walk, you notice both of your laugh-filled breaths forming in the chilling air. The sun has started disappearing behind the horizon now, creating a spotlight of warm colors across the sky. You let your eyes unfocus, making them blend together in a beautiful painting.

The trees match the sunset, the leaves just as fiery and beautiful as before. How can something as sad as the death of a tree’s leaves dying look so pretty? Peaceful even.

Peter notices you staring at the colorful leaves and stops walking. He asks, “Are you cold at all?”

“No, not really.”

“Good.”

He takes off his backpack to dig through it. You allow yourself a couple minutes to wait a bit, knowing how long it will take him to stop searching given his inability to find things quickly in his bottomless bag. He eventually pulls out a nice film camera to your surprise.

He points it at the trees, shifting around to get different angles of them. He tries some close-up photos and others that seem to play with the sunlight. “I can send them to you after I get them developed. I think they’re going to look really cool.”

You agree to his idea, knowing the pictures would look better than ones you could take on your phone. Maybe the quality would be better with his camera. Maybe, though, his photos would hold better memories.

He looks back to you, seeming to take in your whole form. “Here, stand in front of the trees,” he says.

“Oh, no that’s okay. I could take a picture of you though,” you suggest with warm cheeks. “The colors compliment your hair well.”

“C’mon. Just one?” he asks, holding up one finger and a convincing smile. “You don’t even need to look at the photo if you don’t want to. I can keep it.”

You pause, unsure of what he means. Does he just want to keep a picture of you with him? You eventually agree, trying to clear those confusing thoughts from your head. You’re letting him take a photo of you just to stop his nagging. Right.

You stand in front of the trees, apprehensive in your movements. Does he want you to pose? Your hands fidget with the hem of your coat, your internal rambling picking up speed — all of which are interrupted by a bird chirping above you. You look up to see a cardinal hopping from branch to branch. Its feathers ruffle against the leaves, making a beautiful sunset of colors wave back and forth. It points its eyes towards you, tilting its head in jerky movements. It gives a last chirp before flying off to another tree.

You hear a couple clicks and look back at Peter. He’s still taking pictures of you. “Hey, you said only one picture!” you tell him.

“Would you believe me if I said it does that because I’ve dropped it a few too many times?” You cross your arms, shaking your head at him. “Well, then I’ll come clean and say I couldn’t help myself. I took some really beautiful pictures.”

You think your cheeks have to match the cardinal by now and come back towards him. “Can we actually start walking to the dorm now?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just put this away.” You start walking ahead, taking in the rolling clouds as a gust of wind passes. It’s just loud enough in your ears that you don’t hear Peter take one last picture of you.

You catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye when he catches back up. There’s a silence hanging in the air between you two as you approach your dorm, though it surprisingly doesn’t feel awkward. When you reach the door, he starts stumbling over his words again, finally saying, “Y’know, I actually have a lot of good digital pictures too. I could send them to you if you want.”

You look at him fully this time, and you attempt to stop the grin trying to spread across your face. “Are you asking for my number?”

“Oh, well, I mean…I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought I could also ask you my millions of questions about The Great Gatsby since you seem-”

“Peter, I’m just kidding. Here, put your number into my phone.” You open up the contacts in your phone, handing it over to him. He lets out a sigh of relief, quickly typing his number and reading over it again to make sure it was right.

“Thank you for walking me back. Hope your treacherous walk home is safe. It’s nearly dark out, in 45 minutes,” you joke. He gives a small laugh. “See you in class Tuesday?” You ask, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Usually, he’s all over the place, eyes darting every which way. But his gaze is on you, and you find it hard to look straight at him. Were they always so warm, like glazed honey?

“Uh yeah, s’no problem at all. I’ll see you Tuesday,” he says with a short nod. He gives a small wave and turns around towards his dorm as you enter the building. 

You let out a long breath, the only noise in the hallway besides your shoes thudding against the floor. Did that really happen? This whole night has been so…unusual.

Lilly isn’t back in the room yet, but you’re not that surprised since you didn’t spend that much time out eating dinner. You almost wish you had been out longer, partly because then Lilly would be back and you could get back into the swing of things…and partly because you could’ve stayed and talked to Peter longer for a change of scenery. What is going on with you?

You pull up your phone while also putting Netflix on your laptop. You choose a show you’ve seen plenty of times just to have on in the background. The characters’ voices blend into the back of your mind when you open the contacts app. Your thumb hovers over Peter’s name, almost wanting to already talk to him again.

Before that thought gets too far, your door opens and Lilly walks in, setting her backpack down with a sigh. You feel your heart quiet down a little and ask, “Hey, how’d your group project go?” 

“Good, I guess. She’s pretty cool, so we ended up not being super productive…” she says with a sheepish smile. “It was fun though. What’d you get up to tonight?”

“Oh,” you start to say. You chew on the inside of your mouth, debating telling her about Peter. You don’t want to make a big deal out of anything, especially if he’s not. “Just went to the dining, saw a classmate from English and we talked about our assigned reading for a bit. Nothing special.”

She nods, a bit distracted as she’s unpacking her backpack. “That sounds good…hey, I don’t feel like doing any more homework, or thinking, tonight. Wanna watch a movie?”

You smile, happy to have your evening back on the rails. You go over and settle next to her, your phone long forgotten. You fire up a movie with a content sigh.

Over the weekend, you work through assignment through presentation through essay, and on to the next thing. Usually, this would be start and finish, done and done. But a certain smart, yet persistently lovely boy keeps worming his way into your head. He even works his influence into the outline for your essay, thinking back to your conversation with him as you plot out your topic points.

It gets bad enough that you just watch the cursor blinking on the sparse page document, your mind unable to keep working. Though you don’t really need the help, just tired from writing, it certainly couldn’t hurt to text Peter to ask him about the essay…maybe it’ll inspire something.

You pull up his contact again, this time finding the courage to type out a message a bit easier. “Hey, Peter! Hope your competition going well :) I was hoping to talk about your ideas for the essay”

You send it off, reading over it and over again. You decide to send another text quick in case he didn’t know it was you: “And maybe I can give you ideas too, if you tell me how you ended up on the fire escape ;)”

You turn back to your computer, needing something to distract yourself from the neves of texting him for the first time. Not expecting a reply for a while since he’s at that knowledge bowl, you turn towards Lilly who’s working on her own classes. It looks like she’s sketching a landscape scene. Man, she’s good at that stuff.

You’re about to unashamedly interrupt her for a break when your phone buzzes. It’s Peter. Of course it’s him, you just texted him a couple of minutes ago. But still, you somehow weren’t expecting it so quickly.

“Seems a bit bold to ask for *my* ideas and then offer your own in exchange for top-secret information lol”

Another text: “I have a little bit of time before I have to go back on stage for the next game, but here’s a pic of some notes!”

You’re taken aback a little that he’s already written up notes for this essay given his busy weekend. You can’t help but raise your eyebrows a bit when the picture comes through. It wasn’t a screenshot of a Word doc…it was handwritten notes that appear to be on the back of a piece of paper. Did he just scribble that out right now? In between competitions just because you asked? You hadn’t even asked a specific question.

You shake your head as a small smile reaches your face. Some of the points were ones you two talked about (and already incorporated into the outline), but others were pretty helpful. There were some that you couldn’t make out between the strange lighting and illegible handwriting, which you decide to tell him.

“I can’t tell if I’d be more impressed if you just wrote that out or if that’s a picture of a very advanced toddler’s notes”

He responds almost immediately. “Ha ha very funny. You’re the one that asked for my help…I can take my beautiful calligraphy and leave, where it will be appreciated :P”

Though he types like a grandpa, you’re thankful for the emoji, knowing he’s just teasing. “Like a preschool? Jk thank you for the ideas! How’s the competition going?”

You two go back and forth. You’re glad he gave you some ideas to further your essay, but your laptop hasn’t been touched in a while with your face and giggles glued to your phone.

He describes the knowledge bowl (in excruciating detail), but he seems to be loving it. Their team keeps winning against others, on track to win the whole competition. He asks about your plans and week. You tell him about Lilly, how her birthday is coming up, and how artistically talented she is. You send your Bob Ross inspired painting to him. His response is much nicer than Lilly’s was, though you wonder how much that’s because he just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. 

He soon has to go as his team is going back on stage soon. You wish him luck and let out a sigh as you turn back to your taunting document waiting to be written, a little disappointed it hadn’t completed itself in the meantime... So much for getting Peter out of your head.

As Tuesday comes around, for once, you find yourself excited for “English Literature & Composition.” There seems to be a pattern of Peter leaving little things at your desk. But as you enter the classroom and look at your seat, you notice someone sitting there.

You recognize him as a guy that usually sits with the other athletes in the dining hall, his bright blond hair sticking out in the crowds. You think you remember him when they announced the school’s swim team winning, but honestly, they all kind of look similar.

You walk over there, trying to peak at the space to see if Peter’s left you anything just in case. But you don’t see him in his regular spot. You guess he’s back to his usual tardiness. You sit near the guy, and there’s nothing on the desk (not even a notebook, you notice).

You try not to pay too much attention to the way your shoulders slump or the mild frown on your face, instead returning to your trusty routine. As the professor begins lecturing on the societal implications of capitalism as laid out in The Great Gatsby, you start your regular margin doodles.

Before you can sketch some beautiful masterpiece on the college-ruled lines, you hear a voice whisper, “Hey, so I haven’t actually read the book. How likely is it that I could just pay half attention in class and half-ass the essay?”

 You turn towards the man that asked you the question. He’s reclined back into the uncomfortable plastic chair, chewing on a piece of gum with loud smacks. He looks to you with raised eyebrows and a half-smile, clearly not too interested in an actual answer. What is it about you that brings disruptive boys your way?  

“Honestly? I think you could BS it enough to not fail, but not much better than that. I’ve heard she grades these essays pretty hard.”

He scoffs, though you’re not sure if it’s at the professor’s grading or at your low expectations of his unparalleled ability to scrape his way through class. “Okay, fine. Could you give me a quick play-by-play of what happens in this book then?” he asks.

You laugh, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “Um, we’re in the middle of class. Maybe later? But there is also Google that might help you,” you tell him, hoping that’d get you out of this conversation.

“But I don’t know what her lecture’s even about. Just give me a quick explanation so I can get through this class and that’s it.”

He’d probably understand the lecture if he had at least looked it up on Sparknotes by now…You sigh, resigning yourself to flipping through your notebook to find the summary notes you wrote after finishing the whole book. You slide it over to him with a tight-lipped smile and bring your attention back to the professor.

As if right on cue, the classroom doors open and in walks Peter, holding something rectangular in his hands. He doesn’t look your way at all, instead giving a small nod to the teacher as he quietly slides into his regular spot.

A gasp next to you takes your focus away from Peter, something you’re not sure if you’re grateful for or not. The athlete traces his finger across the pages as he reads your notes. “Bro, Daisy did what? And she’s not even gonna take the fall for it? That’s wild,” he says with a level of awe that makes you laugh.

He looks at you with a puzzled expression. You answer his unspoken question before he can ask, whispering, “Yeah, this book has some interesting plot twists. It might be a bit late to read it all before the essay this Thursday, but maybe you could finish it after. The bookstore lets you keep it until the end of the semester.”

He slowly nods, looking between you and the paper. “Uh yeah, I’m probably not gonna read this shit. The story seems fine, especially the murder part’s insane. Thanks for the notes though.”

His brutal honesty makes you laugh again. You cover your mouth to quiet your voice. He flashes you a smile that would probably be more charming if he wasn’t such a jock. You take your notebook back, turning away from him to finally focus on class.

However, a second later, your eyes drift to Peter. Your heart jumps a little to find him already staring at you, or was it at the guy next to you? You’re not sure, but you offer him a smile and small wave. He just returns it with a nod as short and impersonal as the one he gave the professor before turning back towards the front of the classroom.

You frown at the back of his head — perhaps if you squint hard enough, you might be able to hear what’s going on in his mind. Once again, you find Peter distracting you as your thoughts wander.

You look back to him as soon as your professor wraps up class, but he’s already put away his things and up out of his seat. By the time you close your notebook, he’s standing right next to your desk. If he’s aware of the shocked look on your face, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his mouth presses tight before mumbling, “Here, thought you might like this.”

You look down at the thing he places on the desk before you. It’s a postcard that says “Wish You Were Here!” in front of a watercolor painting of a forest. You turn it around in your hands with furrowed eyebrows, not quite sure what he means by this. 

You’re about to ask him what this is about when you see it. The trees scatter across the postcard in a very familiar way — it’s nearly identical to the reference video painting you used while following along to Bob Ross. It looks like a much nicer version of your painting that you sent a picture to him… He remembered the crappy painting you spent just a couple minutes texting about and bought a postcard because it made him think of you.

Peter, while all of these thoughts were running through your head, starts fidgeting and looks like he’s ready to burst. He doesn’t notice the growing smile on your face. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. It just looked so much like your cool painting so I thought I’d bring you back something from the competition,” he says, his words beginning to tumble out of his mouth. “It was only 99 cents so it really wasn’t much. I’m sorry, I could’ve bought you something more, or maybe I can just buy your drinks at the campus cafe for the rest of the semester…”

You’re ready to put him out of his misery and tell him that you love it when a snort beside you interrupts.

“Bro, you gotta chill. Who cares if she likes it or not? She was staring at the back of your head the whole class as soon as you came in,” the jock next to you says before grabbing his empty backpack and heading out of the classroom. He claps Peter on the back as he passes, making him stumble a bit closer to your desk.

Your mouth opens and closes, your face growing hotter as every excruciatingly slow second goes by. Peter tries hiding a smile against his shoulder, looking away from you. You’re glad he’s letting you off the hook a little bit, but he pushes that hook back in when he looks right in your eyes with his dumb grin and says, “Yeah?” with a cocked eyebrow.

You turn back to packing your things away to avoid him, but you can feel his gaze against your skin. You keep your voice steady and tell him, “I was going to say you’re lucky that I like the postcard so that you don’t have to buy me any drinks, but I take that back. You’re buying every one of my drinks for a week to make up for this whole conversation.” You still feel the heat on your cheeks, but you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

He ducks his head for a moment and says, “It’s a deal then. As long as I can start buying you drinks today, on our way to the library together?”

You look back to him, afraid you’ll be the one stumbling over your words so you just ask, “Right now?” He nods, bringing his gaze back to you, and you’re not sure there’s anyone else in the room anymore. The moment breaks as your professor clears her throat, making you pack up your things and walk out of the classroom with sheepish smiles.

You two make your way across campus, your steps feeling slow and in sync with his, and unknowingly, he’s begun unraveling your carefully crafted routine one thread at a time. Maybe you could get used to it, and used to his lopsided grin that makes it seem okay.

[petersnya]

SOMETIMES PT.3

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

Warnings: Angst (alotttt. I’m sorry lol)

Word count:1873

[A/N] So that there’s no smut in this part but it is SO worth it (trust me I hate when there’s no smut but this part is so SO GOOD)this part kinda like, BROKE my heart… ok it DID break my heart…  SEND ME YOUR FEEDBACK AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST FOR EACH CHAPTER! ENJOY… (send a request for anything you want me to write or if you have any ideas)

-J.T.S xxx

PART ONE  PART TWO

Ever since the incident at the drive-in theater, Y/N has been avoiding Peter. Whenever MJ, Peter, and Ned would walk out of school together, Y/N wouldn’t be leaning out of the window of the car smiling and waving at them. She would have the window rolled up and looked either straight out the ahead or down at her phone. 

Peter told Ned about the whole situation but didn’t tell MJ. He knew she would kill him because Y/N is her cousin and their like sister towards each other. 

“Peter I don’t know what your gonna do, but you gotta do it fast cause sooner or later MJs’ gonna find out and your not only gonna lose the girl you have a major crush on but also your best friend,” Ned pointed out to Peter. Peter didn’t want to admit it but he was right. He had to come out with the truth to Y/N one way or another. He had to tell her that he does like her and that he lied about the stark internship. 

He had to tell her that he was Spider-Man.

“Yeah Ned, I guess you right.”

“I am right Pete. Now go get your Princess Leia,” Ned teased as the bell rang, signaling that it was time for them to leave. The two boys made their way out of the building, talking about their project they still had yet to finish. They didn’t see MJ around like how she usually is until they heard familiar voices coming from behind them. 

“Here’s your schedule and your and the supply list. You can also sign up for clubs if you would like,” an administrator said.

“I’ll think about it. That you so much.” there it was. That voice. It was Y/N talking to the administrator. But I thought she was homeschooled? Peter thought to himself, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. It’s not like it was a bad thing that Y/N was coming to Midtown, but MJ told him that she really wasn’t the type to go to school. She hated big crowds of people and was never really good at making friends. 

“Ok well, I can’t wait to have you as a new student at Midtown!”

Peter and Ned looked at each other with wide eyes then turned fully around to see who was behind them, even though they already knew by the voices. “Peter…”

“Ned,” he said to the tan boy next to him. They were both in shock by what they just heard.

“Y/N’s going to Midtown?” they said in sync. 

“Yes, she is,” MJ added as she and her cousin walked over to stunned boys. Ned sent them both a smile and Y/N sent him one back with a small ‘hi’. Peter couldn’t help but notice that something was different about her. 

She’s not wearing her glasses.

The four of them walked out of the building together, telling Y/N about all the teachers and classes at the high school. She also explained that she was tired of being homeschooled and wanted to have something to do outside of her one personal bubble. This new information didn’t make much sense to Peter. She seemed so happy when she was at home from what he could see. 

Ned said goodbye to the two girls before heading over to the bus, beckoning Peter over. 

“Later MJ, b-bye Y/N.” 

“See ya, Parker,” MJ responded before getting into the passenger side of the car, kicking her feet up on the dashboard. 

“Hey! Feet off the dashboard dude,” Y/N yelled at her cousin. MJ mocked her expression before chuckling lightly- keeping her feet on the dashboard. “Goodbye, Peter,” she said coldly, turning back to Peter before getting into the driver’s side, pulling away from the curb before speeding off down the road.

“I miss you.” 

The brown-eyed boy whispered to no one, but it was meant for Y/N. He truly did miss her. Even if they had met only one week ago, that same surge of energy raced through him. Peter knew this wasn’t an ordinary crush- he didn’t know what it was. But he knew he couldn’t afford to lose it. He felt like he was falling apart without her. He didn’t intend to be that rude to her that night at the drive-in, it just happening and he regretted it the second he did it once he saw that heartbroken-hearted look on her face. But instead of apologizing to her, he just sat there.

“Sup penis Parker!” a kid named flash yelled and he sped by him, causing Peter’s brown curly hair to fall into his face. Great. 

“Hey kid, I ain’t got all day. Ya getting on or not?” the bus driver said to Peter. He slumped his shoulders and lugged himself into the bus, taking his seat next to his best friend. “It’s gonna be ok man,” Ned told Peter, trying to comfort him. 

I hope so.

///

Peter was late-night patrolling as he usually did and spotted MJ’s place. Not being able to restrain himself he swung over to the building next to it. He noticed that that same room light was on that was on the first time he stopped by MJ’s on a night patrol as Spider-Man. 

Looking through the window to the lit room, he saw Y/N. she was sitting on her bed, her legs crisscrossed as she wrote something down in a thick, brown, leather-backed journal. 

He smiled at the sight before him. Y/N was wearing the glasses. She pushed them up on her face with her knuckle and continued them to write. Someone must have called her name because she got up from her position on the bed and left her room. 

Curiosity took over Peter as he swung over the ledge of the fire escape that was right at Y/N’s window. He peered into it and used his mask to focus closely on the open journal sitting on the bed. It was a letter:

Dear dad, 

I can’t do this anymore. I miss you so much. You were what made me smile every day, and you still do. But I thought I had found someone who could make me smile even more. He’s beautiful dad. He has amazingly curly brown hair and the brightest brown eyes I had ever seen. His smile made me smile just like how your smile made me smile. He was the one that convinced me to wear my glasses… your glasses. Not MJ. not mom. He did. I thought he liked me as much as I liked him, but I was wrong. And now I can’t stop thinking about what you told me: some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. I think he was the one dad, the wrong one. The one I wasn’t supposed to be with. But why does it hurt so much? I’ve been preparing for this to happen to me ever since you told about false love. But now that it actually happened, I cant take it. I cant let him go. But I-

The letter stopped. And anyone could tell that Y/N had been crying as she wrote it- there were tear strains covering the page. 

Peter felt lightheaded. Tears flooded his chocolate eyes and he unfocused his mask from the page. He slumped down, his back not facing the window. He was hurt. It felt like everything in the world had stopped, as time had frozen. He couldn’t bear to know the fact that he hurt Y/N so much to the point she thinks it’s her fault. 

He yanked the mask off of his face, his cheeks burning a shade of crimson just like his eyes. Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair, gripping it as he grounded out in frustration. 

Letting go he slammed his fist against the brick behind him, yelling out in pain. But not physical pain. He felt like someone just ripped out his heart and stomped on it. 

“Hello?” Peter jumped at the voice coming from inside of Y/N’s room. Nows your change Peter. Just go tell her the truth. That’s what one side of Peter said, the other side was the opposite. You cant tell her now, she’ll just hate you more. You have to wait for the right moment. 

But when was the right moment?

“MJ, did you hear that or am I fucking crazy?” Y/N asked as she exited the room. Peter took this chance to get away without being seen. He made his way but to his shared apartment with Aunt May. Entering his room and sitting on his bed, tears ran down his face as he silently sobbed.

///

“Students, I need your attention,” everyone quieted down their own conversations to hear what was about to be said. “I would like to introduce you to our new student, Y/N,” Peter’s head snapped but to look to the front of the class. His eyes landed on Y/N. he couldn’t help but admire her outfit. She was wearing high-waisted but loose, flared jeans with a grey Slytherin sweatshirt and black converse- ones like MJs. her fingers were covered in rings and she has a small necklace. There was a bag draped over her shoulder and her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was holding her glasses in her hand, not daring to put them on.

Not in front of all these people. More importantly, in front of Peter. 

Her head hung and she stared at her feet, twisting the ring on her thumb. The teacher told that she could take a seat at an empty chair, and just to her luck, Ned wasn’t at school that day. So she was forced to sit next to Peter. She didn’t want to argue so she took her seat and sat there quietly not daring to even glance at the boy next to her. 

Half an hour went by and Peter noticed Y/N fidgeting next to him. Her hands were shaking, her ears were turning bright red and she shook the table from how much she was bouncing it. She was taking notes but the handwriting was illegible she was consistently squinting at the board, trying to read what was being written. 

“Hey Y/N, are you ok?”

“Fine,” she let out shakily, avoiding eye contact with Peter. He grabbed her hand, causing her to look him in the eye. Y/N’s eyes were red, tears swelling in the corners. 

“We’re going to the bathroom. Now.” 

“No Peter I’m f-fine.”

Peter grabbed Y/N’s arm, pulling out of the chair and into his arms, picking up their belonging with his free arm. They snuck out the back door to the classroom he and Ned used to sneak out of. 

Walking through the halls, Y/N’s breath became shallow. “Peter, peter I wanna go home. Please take me home. There are too many people in there. They were all looking at me a-and I didn’t want them to look at me. MJ. Peter where is MJ. I need-” 

“Ssshhh, relax Y/N. I’m gonna take you home,” Peter said, rubbing her back. She nodded her head at him as they walked through the back doors of the school. 

SORRY THAT THIS PART WAS SHORT BUT THE NEXT ONE WILL BE LONG AND I HAVE SOME REALLY GOOD SURPRISE COMING IN THE NEXT PARTS. I LOVE YOU GUYSSSSS

-J.T.S xxx

@love-granger

@moonlightbaby10

@oakiedokie

@hallecarey1

@tomhollandreader

[bloodpenned]

Maybe more of your floris oc headcanons? ( is it really headcanons when you created them? lol )

anon; pls tell us more about floris,,,, i am begging u maam anon; more floris contect pleaaaaaaaaase 🥺🥺 greatdate; Can't believe nobody's shown interest in your doctor. Mayhaps I just have a doctor fetish but he's my fave

cw: incest (cuz it’s floris TT), implied drugging, implied noncon

I waited soooo long to talk about him more, so as a little ‘apology’, have a longer post abt him!

He’s stoic. Quiet. Floris has a stiff, methodical way of approaching things, which is useful while working, but a lot less so while socialising. Spontaneity is not in his vocabulary. His work comes before most other things in his life, because he simply doesn’t have much else. (Though he’s known to be quite the character at the local book club.) If there’s anything he’ll get chastised for while working, it’s for failing to make his patients feel at ease. A look of disinterest is permanently etched on his face. It’s not intentional, and he’s not negligent in his practice, but he still appears cold. He has found a sweet spot between politeness and standoffishness, never being rude but always keeping distance. In one word, he’s unapproachable.

Contrary to this, you are his one weakness. He still prefers to listen rather than talk, still isn’t the most emotive. But Floris and you have known each other for ages, and he can’t just not feel comfortable around you. You can get him to crack a genuine smile or even snort, even if someone else making the same joke wouldn’t have gotten his lips to twitch. To you, he’ll sometimes complain about the stress of his work or how much it bothers him that his dog keeps getting hair all over the carpet. Silly, nonsensical things that he wouldn’t feel like mentioning otherwise. He doesn’t like to do anything without having planned it out beforehand, but you can ask him on a trip out of nowhere and he’s already jumping in the car. He’s all wrapped around his younger sibling’s finger and you could get him to do whatever you wanted to.

He jots down details from your conversation as soon as it’s over. In a typical doctor’s handwriting, it’s completely illegible to anyone except himself. Floris’ memory is good enough that he can recall what he talked about, but he always has a quick look at them before seeing you again. Just in case. To make up for his own personality, he makes sure to circle back to previous conversations to show that he listens and cares. In general, he’s always looking after you. Constantly leaving you little (and large) gifts that he insists you don’t have to pay him back for. Whatever you need him for, really. Floris gets excessively fussy if he notices you aren’t taking care of yourself. He doesn’t like using his phone all that much, but you’re getting a stream of reminders. Would show up to your place with cooked meals if you aren’t eating well. Depending on how ‘bad’ it is, he could try and convince you to move in with him to look after you.

Floris is a total hypocrite, though. He tells you he doesn’t trust another doctor to treat you as well as he would, so he gets you to stay. It’s all free of charge too. But he gets his payment in other ways. His checkups are always a little too invasive- Touches that linger too long or his face that gets too close to yours, a barrage of questions you don’t really want to answer to your brother. Worst of all, though he loves you the most out of all his patients, he treats you the worst. It’s never with anything that would threaten your health in the long term, however, he’s caused you some purposeful discomfort. The most prominent example being giving you sugar pills, to have you return to him again with remaining symptoms.

(And just… Just don’t think too hard about the times you wake up with gaps in your memory. With bruises the shape of finger tips in weird spots and a soreness inside you. Why would you ever suspect your nice, normal brother?)

There’s nothing that bothers him more than people asking him why he’s single. Telling him to get dating already, to find some pretty lady and settle down. He wants you, and he can’t have you, so that’s that. If you It’s not like he wouldn’t let you date anyone else. (Even though there’s a decent chance he’d continue his behaviour still. Whoops.) Floris… Wants you to be happy. He knows he’s fucked up. Whoever you’re with will have to abide by his high standards however, or else they aren’t going to have the best time.

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

a;lskdfjl;d okay for a lukebobby fluff prompt what about "this isn't what it looks like" thank you <3 <3

Thank you, friend, for being my 500th follower and my first prompt! I hope you enjoy! (Somehow this became a Bobby birthday fic? Idk lol)

---

“This isn’t what it looks like.” 

Bobby stands, frozen, in the studio doorway and blinks at the scene before him: Luke Patterson, lying upside down with his feet hanging over the back of the couch, one of his dumb plastic darts poised in his hand like he’s getting ready to throw it (upside-down. As if Luke isn’t bad enough at hitting the dartboard already).

“I’m not gonna lie, Luke,” Bobby says, glancing from him to the dartboard on the wall, which has been covered in post-it notes scribbled on in Luke’s illegible handwriting. “Don’t think I can tell you what it does look like.”

“Okay, so—” Luke tries to scramble off the couch, ends up doing a flailing sort of backflip, and almost cracks his head open on the coffee table. Bobby lunges forward out of instinct, but before the worried shout even makes it all the way out of his mouth, Luke bounces to his feet, grinning and unharmed. “Okay, so. You know how your birthday’s coming up?”

Bobby’s heart is still racing, so it takes him a moment or two to stammer out, “Wh—uh—yes, Luke, I was, in fact, aware.”

Luke climbs over the table (because he can never just walk around it like a normal person) and starts grabbing the post-it notes off the dartboard, sticking them into a pile in his hand. “Well, I wanted to get you something. But I couldn’t just buy you a gift, cause, you know, you already have freaking everything, and also I’m not exactly liquid right now, and so I was thinking we could just, like, do something for your birthday, just the two of us—not like a date or anything, unless you wanted it to be a date, I wouldn’t be against that idea—but anyway, I came up with a bunch of possibilities but I couldn’t decide which one to go with, and Alex and Reggie were being utterly unhelpful, so, uh. I figured I’d just let fate and my terrible aim decide.”

Bobby blinks again. Luke’s blushing, and Bobby doesn’t think he’s ever heard Luke ramble like that before. Bobby feels heat start to creep up his own neck, wondering what “not a date unless you want it to be” ideas Luke might have come up with.

Finally, Luke bounds over and shoves the stack of sticky notes in Bobby’s face. “But maybe you should just pick one instead.”

Bobby bashfully takes the pile and shuffles through them, hyper aware of Luke’s eyes on him, watching for Bobby’s reaction. Luke’s standing really close to him, the toes of their shoes just touching. Bobby has to squint to decipher Luke’s penmanship, and in the process involuntarily shifts even closer.

Some of the post-it notes are pretty standard for Luke: spend a day at the beach, blow latest paycheck at the arcade, make edible cupcakes even if it destroys Bobby’s kitchen.

Others are borderline insulting: take Bobby shopping—NO SUSPENDERS, songwriting lesson—make Bobby’s lyrics suck less.

And then, at the very back of the pile, one sticky note reads: Finally kiss him.

Bobby stares at it for a moment, his mouth hanging open as his brain short-circuits. In front of him, Luke rocks back and forth on his heels, clears his throat, says, “So… What do you think?”

Bobby swallows and looks up, peeling the last sticky note off the top of the pile. “So… This one is a completely unacceptable birthday present.”

Luke immediately frowns, leaning over to see which one Bobby’s holding. “What? Why?”

“Because—” Bobby sticks the post-it to the front of Luke’s tank top with just enough force to feel the muscles of Luke’s chest beneath the fabric. “I don’t want to wait till my birthday.”

And before Luke even has the chance to react, Bobby grabs his shirt with both hands, pulls him in, and kisses him.

It’s by far the best early birthday present Bobby’s ever received.

Send me a pairing and a word or phrase prompt to celebrate 500 followers!

---

Taglist: (apologies if you get this notification twice, apparently tumblr is dumb and doesn’t actually tag y’all if I don’t individually type out the tags, so I’m editing my last few posts) @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @nickalicious @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @spidergirl0325 @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @cest-la-vie-de-la-lee @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @moreflowersthanweeds @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas 

[floatservices]

wrong numbers/right answers

iwaizumi hajime/reader wc: 3.9k 

When Hajime had started catching feelings for the mystery number, he'd rationalised that it could never be you. Slowly but surely, his mystery texter had been getting him out the slump Iwaizumi had been feeling over his unrequited feelings, and instead of wondering about you, he was wondering when the next mystery number text would come.

But now you're her and she's you and his brain is going to explode. He doesn't have enough brain cells for this.

Curse this stupid, stinking crush.

“You've been on that damn phone for, what, 30 minutes now?” Iwaizumi growls, waving Oikawa's less than impressive test score across said boy’s face. “What are you, texting a new girlfriend?”

“Iwa-chan, I'm flattered you think I have a new girlfriend!” Oikawa’s ecstatic, typing with one hand and snatching away the sheet away with the other. “But no, I'm just trying to have a good time with our favorite classmate,” Oikawa metaphorically dangles you in front of him, and smirks as his friend’s eyes widen. “Oho, I’ve got your attention now, have I?”

Iwaizumi wrinkles his nose, trying to get the test back. “Shut up, shittykawa. If I knew her better, I'd apologize to her because she has to deal with the likes of you.”

The spiker makes a wild lunge for the test paper, because they came to his house to study, not so his disgraceful excuse of a best friend could tease him about a girl, but Oikawa leans just out of reach, his long arms stretching as far as they could.

“You wound me, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa chuckles, shuffling the paper under the cushion he was sitting on. “My test score wasn’t that bad, anyways-“

“You call a 52% a good grade?!”

“Well, it's a pass, isn’t it? I have more important things on my mind, anyways, like beating Ushiwaka, texting my favorite girl in class, don’t you have something to do? Oh, wait! I forgot that you were-”

“Shittykawa," Iwaizumi cuts in, a seething expression on his face, but Oikawa pays no mind. "If you finish that sentence-“

“-Socially awkward! You can’t even talk to her without blushing! But funny how that doesn’t happen when you talk to anyone else like that, hmm, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime gets up and launches himself across the chabudai, tackling Oikawa, a fist raised.

__

It’s 8am when Iwaizumi gets a text.

From: ??? To: You rinrin this is you right!?? buddy???!! pls send me ur jpnese lit hw I NEED HELP otherwise tatsuya-sensei will have me impaled bro my entrails will be sacrificed to whoever the hell Yamada Kai was, helpppp!

There’s a string of different crying emojis after that, which Iwaizumi finds adorable. He doesn’t know who this is, but it’s obvious that the poor guy went to Aoba Johsai. The woman who taught Japanese Literature was famous around the school for being a harsh marker and a harsher teacher style. They’d been studying Yamada’s works so far, and Iwaizumi expects whoever sent it was panicking- it was 8, school started 8:30, and English was their second lesson of the day (or it was for tomorrow, because Classes 3-4 didn’t have Literature today, but Iwaizumi assumes it’s today, otherwise they wouldn’t be this distraught.)

He glances at his watch- he had a few minutes to spare. He fishes his work out his bag, and he thanks God he's used his best handwriting (Tatsuya-sensei had caused quite the scene photocopying his work last time, showing off to the entire Class-2 how “insufferably illegible” his print was,) hoping whoever was behind the screen could read it. He takes a quick picture of it, making sure it’s not blurry and the script is clear before sending it off and hurrying out of his house.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You [sent: IMG20151219] you’ve got the wrong number but i’m from seijou too. this is the worksheet you mean?

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You aaa i’m so sorry for sending it to the wrong number!

but yes, it is the right one! thank you so much, i owe you one, mystery man!

Oikawa’s waiting for him outside as always, and Iwaizumi deliberately speeds up so he can walk past. Behind him, Oikawa makes a sort of whine from the back of his throat, quickening his pace to fall in next to him.

“What’s gotten you so cheery?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi realizes he’s been smiling. He replaces it with a scowl, quickly shoving his phone in his pocket so Oikawa can’t get anymore curious.

“It’s no thanks to you.” Iwaizumi quips, and Oikawa pouts.

Iwaizumi only risks a reply when he gets to school, because Oikawa Tooru will never shut up if he sees him texting someone that is so obviously a girl.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You how do you know it's a guy..? for all you know i could be a girl, you know.

He gets a reply soon after.

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You well, if you are a girl, i'm sorry!! i didn't mean anything  by it... also i kinda assumed you were a guy because of your handwriting.

He should be offended by that, right? Right. He’s offended by it. He's about to defend himself when his phone buzzes with another message.

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You SHIT I'M SO SORRY THAT WAS RUDE TO SAY!! I BET YOU WON'T TALK TO ME ANYMORE

IT'S UNDERSTANDABLE IF YOU DO...

He blinks, an ungraciously amused smile making it's way onto his face. He leaves his phone alone for the school day, because his teacher has just walked in. He figured he'd reply to you after school, just before volleyball.

It's kind of a mistake, because he comes back to 12 more messages, each message reading a variant of "I'm sorry," the amount of sincerity in each message growing as the hours passed by. He figures it's time to ease the stranger out her misery, and begins typing his reply.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You no need to get worked up on it, lmao   you planned on talking to me again?

While waiting, he has enough time to go to the clubroom early and change out of his school uniform to his jersey. He's halfway through fixing one half of his laces when his phone pings.

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You it's because i thought i owed you one.... but i guess if you don't want to talk it's okay lol

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You i hope it's not me that offended you this time. i do want to talk. you seem... cool?

He hits the send button, rereads it, and recoils. That sounds awkward.

Iwaizumi starts typing more.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You besides, you don't know me. how are you gonna give back (whatever. i don't know how! you're the  one that wants to owe me.) if you don't even know me?

From: Crying Emoji lmao To: You won't it be funner if it's a mystery?

i guess... we could help each other out! anytime we need hw help we just call each other, like a private help line.

(also, why the question mark? of course i'm cool!)

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You i think that sounded less creepy in your head.  

(sure, you're cool. [heavy sarcasm, if you can't tell.])

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

is that a no?

(rude!)

Iwaizumi stares at the screen. Well, he didn't really mind. And whoever this was sounded pretty trustworthy, and not a random creep that pretended to be a Seijou student in their free time. His time to deliberate is cut short, because Oikawa slams the clubroom doors open, singing a Christmas carol Iwaizumi didn't recognise, along with Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who were discussing what kind of forfeit Oikawa had to pay today if he didn't set as well as he should; ramen or oden?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You fuck why not

i'll be looking forward to... being helped out? bye.. i'll talk later.  

my best friend is here and i'm not ready for him to annoy me straight to satan's asscrack.

Iwaizumi whips the phone away from Oikawa's line of vision, only letting him see his asscrack remark. (It backfired, because Oikawa spends all of the time from putting his shoes on to the start of practice whinging.) The boys slowly file out of the clubroom, Kunimi shutting off the lights as the door softly clicks closed.

Iwaizumi's phone lights up in his blazer pocket, a simple "see you later!" on the screen that brightens the whole room up.

___

It's two weeks later when Iwaizumi needs the help he's been promised. He opens up his chat- they'd just been talking last night about Seijou's annual fair, and what they each were going to do.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You hey english is kicking my ass

can you help a me out please

To: You From Crying Emoji lmao ofc !! what do you need help with

i would let u copy my answers but i feel like you actually have to learn english at some point phone-chan lol

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You the english were on crack when they

made up their language i swear

does the sentence "the star shine brightly" work

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

LMFAO

weh that's a trick question

"shone" is for no object and "shined" is for when here's no object. so like shone works for 'light' and shined can be for like

a car headlight

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You what the hell

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao ikr english is crazy

you also forgot the "d" at the end lol

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You that one is on me that's simple

but the other thing isn't. aren't the both shining anyway? what's the point in having two. i hate this devil language i swear

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

if it helps no one really cares and i think

you could get away with either english has a lot of rules and no one follows them sooooo... it's whatever!!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You

try telling that to fukuoda-sensei i swear that guy has a grudge against me or smthn

To: You

From: Crying Emoji lmao WAHAHAHA i had him last year.... he literally hates fun i don't think i've ever seen him smile

good luck with that phone-chan :P

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You

one last question btw

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

ooh okay shoot!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You what's 好きな食べ物は揚げ出し豆腐 in english

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao ...

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You don't tell me you don't know :(

To: You From Crying Emoji lmao phone-chan, if i say i'll make your agedashi tofu for the festival tmrw will you please stop making vague hints  towards it for the rest of the night?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You :)

To: You From Crying Emoji lmao the things i do for you, phone chan!

___

"Iwa-chan, don't eat too much." Oikawa says, blinking as he tries to process the sheer amount of beancurd his friend is wolfing down.

"Says the person who hogged all the milk bread once." Iwaizumi retorts, rolling his eyes. "This is one plate of tofu, unlike when you once wasted 2000 yen to buy the school's entire daily stock of milk bread so you could eat it." He pauses to finish another cube of his favourite food. "And school milk bread doesn't even taste that great."

"It was cheap, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa tries to defend himself. "Makki, Matssun, help me out here!"

Matsukawa only shrugs, and when prompted by Oikawa to give a 'real' answer, he sides with Iwaizumi, apologizing sheepishly.

"Sorry to admit it Captain," He chuckles, "But I don't really like school food anyways."

Iwaizumi shoots Oikawa a teasing smirk, and Oikawa's just about to say something when Hanamaki pipes up.

"I like it," Makki makes a non-committal gesture, and Oikawa looks happy with that. "I mean, sure, school food isn't that great but I think the milk bread is the only good thing about it."

"Like striking gold in a coalmine!" Oikawa nods his approval, and Iwaizumi just sighs. Looking around, he spots you out of the corner of his eye, looking as good as usual and serving a few parents and students. He knows he can't call you because he'd end up sweating through his blazer, so he asks another classmate instead.

"Okuhara-kun," He calls, waving to a boy in his class. "Do you know who made the tofu?"

The boy shakes his head. "Whoever it was came early to drop it off. It had a note with it though."

This gets Iwaizumi's attention. She'd left something for him? "Oh? What did it say?"

"Uh- this is an exact quote, by the way- 'Phone-chan, don't you dare!'" Okuhara replies, drawing out quotation marks in the air. When Iwaizumi lets out a loud laugh, he takes it for disbelief.

"Is it... really that funny?" He questions, looking bemused.

Hajime grins. "Not really."

____

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You you didn't even drop any hints!

all you gave me was a note that told me to go away

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao i knew you'd go looking, phone-chan! my intuition is as good as ever!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You unfair. that was like, my best friend's level of unfair.

so unfair that i'm thinking about moving my best friend back to the top of my favourites list :/

That was a bold faced lie. Oikawa had never been on the top of his favourites list: that was reserved solely for Makki.

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao you wound me!

who is this best friend?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You

not telling lol

you'd know who i was then

To: You

From: Crying Emoji lmao spare hint ma’am?

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You you didn't give me any!

and you're the one who wanted to keep it a secret in the first place :/

...but fine.

he's on the volleyball team

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao oikawa!!??

To: Crying Emoji lmao

From: You ... :( yeah

see i told you!

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao actually, i don't know the vb team that well. oikawa's one of the only guys i know  because he's popular. and loud 

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You oh so i’m not popular?

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao aww phone-chan it’s not like that <3 ur popular in my heart :)

Iwaizumi curses at the blush that follows reading that. He will not allow himself to get flustered over that, it was a joke!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You gee thanks 

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao besides i still know the third years! i'm just saying i don't know them that well!!

hanamaki, matsukawa and iwaizumi. they're a close friend group, so i expect one of then is you

When he reads his name, he doesn't know whether to deny it completely, or confirm that it's him. Hajime puts his phone down and paces for a bit, wondering if he's fucked up. When he checks his phone again, chewing on his lip, he guffaws at the message they've left.

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao ...judging from how you're not replying, you are.

but since i don't know which one, i'll decide on calling you phone-chan, yeah?

When Iwaizumi met whoever they were, he was gonna give them a lecture of a lifetime about not being a smartass.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You fine, yeah. i am one of them. but now you owe me a hint too!

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao

well, i suppose i do!

i'm one of the girls in the class that actually has oikawa's number. he half forced me to give it to him, actually, but it's still been fun talking with him.

(not as much as talking with you, phone-chan!)

and i also totally get why he's annoying.

Iwaizumi feels a tiny bit of jealously bubbling up- irrational, because he's only been texting them for about half a month. His friend's statement about liking talking with him more than Oikawa makes him a little pleased, because people didn't usually pick his pretty best friend over him (selfish, yeah, but he's tired of girls asking him to deliver chocolates to the setter and befriending him in hopes of getting closer to Tooru.)

But girls who had his number? Only the ones Oikawa actually had an interest in.

The grand total of the people in his class with the brunet's number was three, because as courteous and as flirtatiously he acts, he accepts and turns down people normally, and doesn't like hurting girls as much as his playboy rep boasts (Iwaizumi's always liked that about him.) The three girls he knew of consisted of Aoi, his ex, Reina, who unbeknownst to Oikawa at the time, swang the other way, and...

You.

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao i know that aoi, reina and (name) has his number...

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao well, one of them is certainly me!

we're both down to three, phone-chan. even ground!

Iwaizumi feels the world cave in on himself, reading the message over and over. Aoi was a nice guy, but he was also the same brand of pompous that Hajime disliked and Oikawa had found cute. They’d ended it horribly, so Hajime was decidedly not looking forward to the possible outcome that it was him, so he casts away the thought before it can solidify in his mind’s eye. Reina didn’t even like guys, so if you were you…

Huh. His mouth’s gone dry suddenly.

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You cool cool

 hey i'm gonna head to bed i gotta emotionally prepare for voluntarily walking into japanese lit class with tatsuya sensei on my ass

sorry to cut it short

To: You From: Crying Emoji lmao aw don't worry about it phone-chan <3

good night! and see you tmrw, whether we know it or not!!

To: Crying Emoji lmao From: You sleep well

Iwaizumi curses during the 5th hour of trying to sleep. Curse this stupid, stinking crush.

___

He wishes he hadn't asked. He's fine with his favorite crying emoji user knowing who he is, but knowing that it's you sort of struck a pang in his heart that couldn't be undone. He can't concentrate in class, and though he fights it because Oikawa's caught on to this habit, he finds himself staring at you instead of listening to the teacher. The whole situation was annoying!

First he thinks you're cute but he'd chalked it up to never working out because Oikawa had managed to snag your number. Then Oikawa assures him that it's platonic and they only talk about school work which is, to say the least, bullshit, because Oikawa can't actually text without getting distracted. His best friend has a tendency to rant about volleyball or start gossiping when his phone is within reach, and it's why his study sessions happen with Hajime next to him (and even with him, Oikawa still manages to get his grubby hands on his phone.) His best friend was absolutely up to something, and it had been killing Iwaizumi that he didn't know what it was.

And then he'd gotten that cute, fated, statistically impossible text from a wrong number, and fallen into a cute flirting-but-not-really routine. They were kind, sweet, and willing to help him with trivial things like homework and make him his favorite food.

It was easier not really knowing who it was! That was mean to admit, sure, but even when Hajime had started catching feelings for the mystery number, he'd rationalised that it could never be you. Slowly but surely, his mystery texter had been getting him out the slump he had been feeling over his unrequited feelings, and instead of wondering about you, he was wondering when the next mystery number text would come.

But now you're her and she's you and his brain is going to explode. He doesn't have enough brain cells for this.

Hajime sighs, looking away from you and back to his worksheet. Algebra stares back at him with no mercy. "I have no brain cells." He mutters, amending his thoughts. In the seat next to him, Oikawa chuckles lightly.

"You've got enough to stare at her, though." He whispers, and Hajime feels his blood boiling. "I swear, when the bell rings, I'm going to-"

The teacher clears her throat loudly. "Iwaizumi-san, if you could refrain from speaking until I've finished..."

Iwaizumi feels his hot rage flood into his cheeks as embarrassment instead. "Of course, sorry sensei."

You catch his eye as he averts his eyes from the teacher, and you smile encouragingly. Hajime thinks the knot in his forehead gets worse. He feels himself go hotter, somehow, and quickly goes back to looking at his math equations. Oikawa's still fucking smirking.

"Denial, Iwa-chan."

There's something fishy in the way that Oikawa texted the group chat about getting lunch. Firstly, Oikawa liked western food for whatever reason, and whenever he asked to go out, he would picked a pricey French place. The rest of the team would debate for about 8 minutes before usually settling on a cheap soba place near the town centre. He'd claimed it was for a post-midterms celebration, and since the Christmas holidays had started, they might as well go somewhere altogether, as a team.

But Oikawa's suggested this expensive ramen place (which... alright, it's not like Oikawa never eats Japanese. But he doesn't prefer it, and Hajime is paranoid about whatever plan his best friend has hatched) and instead of shouting at him to lower the price, Makki and Mattsun agree immediately. Iwaizumi knows Makki is broke this week, after having to buy a replacement volleyball for the one they popped while roughhousing, so he doesn't understand why he'd agree to blowing 2000 yen on a single bowl of ramen.

The rest of the third years decline or agree. Iwaizumi thinks this is for plausible deniability, to make him think it's all alright. But when Oikawa @'s him in chat to confirm for the coming Thursday, he grudgingly agrees. He's wanted to try that ramen place for a while, anyway, and he's putting too much thought into this. It was just lunch with the team. It's fine.

Then the coming Thursday rolls around, and he's been standing outside the ramen place for 5 minutes and no-one is here and he's going to kill Oikawa-

To: [crying baby noises] From: You oikawa i swear to god where the fuck is everyone. i'm going to aim every spike in practice to you i swear. yahaba would help me

To: You From: [crying baby noises] WAHAHAHA it's okay iwa-chan, someone else you like much better than our sweaty volleyball team is coming ☆⌒(ゝ。∂)

To: [crying baby noises] From: You die in a ditch

To: You From: [crying baby noises] you won't be saying that after ur first date! (☆ω☆)

here's her number, since ur gonna need it!

[CRYING BABY NOISES] HAS SENT YOU A CONTACT

Iwaizumi grumbles the entire time he's punching in the number, intending to tell you that you've been set up and you don't need to bother coming, but his phone shows up with an error that he's already got the number saved. He stares at the notification, blinking once, twice, before the elation sets in and-

"Ah, Iwaizumi?" You call his name, walking quickly towards him and giving him a bashful smile. "Sorry I'm late. I wasn't worried because I thought it was just going to be Oikawa talking my ear off, but he texted me to say... well."

He just says your name, blushing but still grinning. You chuckle, and the little display of happiness pushes him to at least try and say something, "Oikawa gave me your number, but..." Iwaizumi trails off.

"He sent yours too." You explain, pulling your phone out and, at last, he's given proof that you're the mystery number and his grin manages to get wider. The cool winter air bites less than it did before. "But I already had it saved."

"Me too." Hajime says, taking a step closer to you and taking a hand tentatively. Your fingers slip between his, and your cheeks are pink from more than just the cold.

"I had a feeling it was you." You admit, still looking at him the way you do in his dreams. "It's nice to finally meet you properly, Phone-chan."

[hcneymilkks]

NINE PERCENT Zhu Zhengting ‘A Dozen Letters’

In which the dreaded Valentine’s day arrives but instead of being left alone, Ying Yue has to track down her mystery guy.

PAIRING: Zhengting x Ying Yue (OC) 

SORT OF A SOCIAL MEDIA ONESHOT (texting and Instagram)

|YING YUE|

Snow crunched against my shoes, my breath exhaling out puffs of white smoke. It was so cold. Yet, my school didn't let us stay home. Stupid winter. Although it looks pretty, frost covering the tree branches bare of leaves, it didn't give me enough motivation to get out of my comfy warm bed.

But of course, my sister had to barge in and wake me up, yelling at me to drive her to school.

Sadly, both my parents took the two cars we had. Instead, I wrapped up my sister and walked her to school, her "boyfriend" meeting with her.

"Happy valentines day!" He yells. My sister giggles and hugs him. I roll my eyes and bid goodbye, not needing to stay here longer.

And now here I am, at the entrance of my school trying to take the excess snow off. Normally, I wouldn't care how the school looks, but today it made my stomach want to hurl. Bleh. Hearts here, red and pink there. This is the day I die.

I quickly text Ha Rin, crying inside.

Ying Yue

don't know where i am

theres too many hearts everywhere

i think i got sent to hell

send help

bitch where you and Eun Jung at

Ha Rin

Lmao

its only one day come on you can survive

we are at ur locker, come here

Ying Yue

im cryin

I walk quickly to my locker, trying to ignore all of the "Happy Valentines day" and couples sticking their tongues in each other's mouths.

I hate this day, I hate this.

Why?

Just bad memories.

Ying Yue

sksksk theres too many couples making out my poor eyes

Ha Rin

LOL hurry up then

I almost bump into a girl who then glared at me.

"Bitch." I mumbled

"Ying ying!" I turned around and saw Ha Rin and Eun Jung both holding....ugh.

"Awe are those stuffies for me? You shouldn't have." I playfully try to take it away but they both glare at me playfully.

"No, you know who this will be given to." Eun Jung says in a teasing tone while Ha Rin nods and laughs.

I shudder. "This is why I hate valentines day."

"Come on Ying Yue. it's only one day, it's not the end of the world." Eun Jung puts an arm around my shoulder. I shrug it off, going towards my locker to get my math book.

"But you both are leaving me for your boyfriends during my four-hour break. It is so the end of the world." I pout and try to open the lock with no avail.

"Ugh stupid lock."

Ha Rin and Eun Jung laugh. "Awe is little Ying Ying sad because she doesn't have a boy to cuddle?"

"Shut up. I don't need a man."

"That is true....but remember your other valentine's day attempts with your crushes. Both of them who I hate with my life but you do you boo." Eun Jung says.

I drop the lock and look at both of my friends. "We do not talk about that. I was too dumb in what I thought was love."

They both snickered. "Well no one told you to stick candies on their locker DUH!" They both say at the same time and I swear if murder wasn't illegal I would have buried their dead asses by now.

"Ohmygod what did I just say not to do!" I exclaim and open my locker a little bit too forcefully, I felt a stinging sensation on my cheek and involuntarily closed my eyes.

"What the fuck!?" I yelled, opening my eyes a moment later to see not one, but TWELVE LETTERS spill out of my locker.

The hallway was silent for a moment and I felt my cheeks burn. Oh, how I hated being the center of attention. Make it stop. The bell rang not a moment later and I clumsily picked up all of the letters, saying a quick goodbye before heading to the library for my first free period....hopefully alone.

|ZHENGTING|

"Okay calm down I'm just getting out of my car." I say into my phone, hearing coherent mumbles from the other side of the receiver. I grabbed my bag from the backseat and went into school.....of course, I locked my car.

"What was that Wenjun? I can't hear you." I say in a sing-song voice, always teasing him for his mumbles. Before I used to blame my hearing, I swear it keeps getting worse with me always blasting music to dance to. But after many times hearing him mumble, I realized it wasn't my hearing but it was just Wenjun's habit.

"-Hello? Zhengting are you still on?" I snap out of my trance and nod my head, mentally cursing because no one can hear a nod from a phone call.

"Yeah I'm still on. I'm inside the school now, where are you?"

"Going to my locker, meet me there before class starts?"

"Will do." I hang up and look around the school. Pink and red hearts everywhere. My student council can be so extra with these "holidays." I hum a little tune and turned the corner until I heard a voice that made my knees go weak.

Ying Yue.

Oh god, she's at her locker. Calm down Zhengting you just have to walk to Wenjun's locker that is beside her. You can do this. I take a deep breath and start to walk towards Wenjun, not until I tripped on my own shoe and almost fell. Curse my two left feet.

I didn't see Ying Yue look but I saw her friends did and I mentally cried. Great, I'm gonna get teased.

"Hey bro." Wenjun and I did a handshake and opened his locker. "So how was it falling for...you know." He points in the three girls direction and laughs.

I glare and tackle him down, not needing this first thing in the morning. "Can you just get your stuff and let's go? I don't need to be here any-" I heard yelling and looked at Ying Yue, locker open and letters on the ground. I blushed and looked away, recognizing that handwriting. The bell rang soon after and I felt a rush of cold wind pass by.

"Dude, just how many letters did you write to her?" Wenjun whispers and I tense up. I saw this post that this guy bought his girlfriend twelve roses and stated that if the last one died their love will die. Plot twist? The last rose was fake and that signified that their love will last forever.

"I may or may have written twelve letters." I said shyly.

"AND YOU STUCK IT IN HER LOCKER ALL AT THE SAME TIME!?!" Wenjun exclaims and I cover his mouth with my hand.

"Was that a bad idea?"

|YING YUE|

I sit down in the library and take deep breaths, never again I will run....psh just kidding I run away from everything.

I touch the area on my face where I felt a cut and I winced. I quickly put on a bandaid because I don't want to get an infection...duh. I then opened my math textbook, trying to finish yesterday's homework that I forgot at school. But I couldn't. I couldn't think of anything else but the letters. "Twelve letters? For me? It's not April fools day yet." I mumble, closing my math textbook and welcoming sleep for the remainder of the free period.

Well, no sleep came. My hands indistinctively went to my backpack and I found the twelve letters I dumped in there haphazardly. I picked a random one and looked to see who it was addressed to.

"My love? What the hell?"

I opened the letter and admired the handwriting. For some reason, I recognized it from somewhere. There's no way Zhengting wrote this. I thought. He doesn't see me other than a little sister.

Yes, Zhengting and I go way back. Meaning the cliche neighbours to this day. The cliche spending time at each other's houses cuddling and talking about everything. The cliche friendly "I love you's" and "I miss you's." I laughed softly at the vast memories. It was as if a switch turned on in my brain and I stopped spending a lot of time with Zhengting. Why?

I love him.

I tried to distract myself with other crushes, trying to make myself noticeable to them with yes, putting candies on their lockers for valentines day. Only one noticed but rejected me.

I later knew it was so stupid. I was blinded by artificial love and wanting to get rid of feelings for Zhengting.

I looked at the letter.

'Ying Yue,

You probably ran away when you saw all of the letters fall from your lockers, I know you hate the attention. So instead of giving you twelve roses because I'm literally so shy, I'm giving you twelve letters (which you could make it into paper roses but idk.)

Where do I start....the first time we met. Now I don't want to give too much away but we were pretty close in our childhood.

You've grown into a wonderful, beautiful human being I mean girl. When you first walked into the doors of this year I swear you got even prettier.

Since I only have twelve letters because I didn't want to bombard you with more, I will compliment you twelve times...maybe even more if you let me.

Number one, your laugh, your sincere one. I love hearing it. It was one of the reasons why I fell in love with you. Yes Yue, you read it right. I'm deeply and terribly in love with you and I can never get you off my mind.

Ps. I'm closer than you think *winks*'

I put down the letter and look around, trying to see if I can spot anyone. There were only girls here. Does this mean he's in my classes?

|ZHENGTING|

I smile when I see her look around. Thank god she can't see me from here. I go back doing my own work, hoping she will read the rest.

I know, so cliche. But it's really scary confessing to someone who has been in your life for so long.

immediately I hear a loud thud and I jump out of fright. God damn why is everything so scary? Taking out one earphone I look to where the sound came from and lo and behold, I make eye contact with a fallen Ying Yue.

Shit.

|YING YUE|

"Oh shit I'm gonna be late for my next class." I hurriedly pack my things, mutter a small apology for the person who wrote those letters, for they will be crushed yet again by the suffering and anxiety of what is called school books.

I stood up, but somehow the next moment the chair that I sat on fell along with me beside it. Damn me for being so clumsy.

Not only was the library more silent than before, but I also made eye contact with the last person I wanted to see. Not when I had my speculations.

Zhu Zhengting.

I quickly looked away, flustered and embarrassed. I ran once more. Let's hope from all this running I'm doing today is going to make me lose weight.

Why do you do this to me Zhu Zhengting?

***

My media studies class was pretty interesting to say the least, but for some reason, I have a project to do.....it's photography?

"Well happy valentine's day to all. I didn't expect to bring this project up so suddenly." My teacher explained.

"For the past month, we have been looking at social media and how it affects our daily lives. Normally, we only want people to see the bright, happy sides. Or either, we repost other people's photos without permission and claim it as our own. Now, what does this all have to do with the project? I will be asking each of you to either clear your own Instagram profiles and start fresh or create a new Instagram profile. This will be a week-long project. I not only want you to add your happy moments but your sad ones. I want to see not only cute pictures of the sky but also your homework. I want to see your daily life in pictures. So like a daily blog."

Everyone starts to groan but the teacher silences us. "Oh come on class. It's not like you all are already not glued to your phones twenty-four seven. It's worth thirty percent of your grade so I expect some effort. For extra marks you can write a journal on one specific photo and why it's special to you."

"I wish I dropped this class already." someone mumbles beside me but I completely ignore it, already knowing what to do.

50 likes

@ying.yang - aight @person who left me twelve letters in my locker. Who u and wat u want wit me?

5 comments

@e.jung - A SECRET ADMIRER!?! IS IT *********?

@ying.yang - @e.jung ShUt uP

@haharin - @e.jung oof it's totally him

@ying.yang - @haharin SHUT UP

|ZHENGTING|

Shit.

My eyes went wide during lunch.

"Wenjun did you see Ying Yue's post?" I show him my phone and he looks at the photo.

"Damn ting why don't you ever write me notes like that?" he pouts and I smack him on the arm.

"You don't deserve any...not when you cheated on me with Quanzhe!"

Wenjun laughs. "But no seriously you should tell her today that you like her. You have History class with her right?"

I nod.

"You still have them?"

I nod again.

"Good. I have a plan."

200 likes

@tingting - maybe today will be the day where I can finally give you flowers in person

20 comments

@yellowturnip.justin - eh?

@byewenjun - oh you are so confessing to her today...im tired of seeing you sulk about how youre too much of a chicken to do it

@tingting - @byebyewenjun sksksks sHUT UP

@fanchangechange - wait, Zhengting only knows one girl...does that mean????

@tingting - @fanchangechange I LIKE UR SISTER NOW SHUT UP

@quanzhieeee - @tingting @fanchangechange THATS A LIE  

|YING YUE|

I fiddle with my pen, hoping something exciting happens during the week or else I will be posting sky photos and my song playlist which is all over the place. I mean I guess I could write a reflection on my music, but what's the point?

I wait for History class to start, wanting more than to just go home.

Music in my ears, I sketch a human figure, pouting when one side is different than the other.

A tap on my shoulder.  That one tap made me lose my focus and snap back into the dreaded reality. I now know what photo I should post next.

I take out my headphones and turn around, looking at the familiar boy. Again? The second time I have seen him today.

"Is anyone sitting here?" he asks and I shake my head no immediately. He places his backpack on his desk and sits down, closing his eyes.

I look at him for a moment and then shake my head, trying to go back to my sketch.

"Why are you shaking your head?" I hear the person beside me say. He opens one eye and looks at me from the side.

"Nothing. It's stupid."

"Okay then. I wanted to ask you a question. "

I turn my body and look at him. "Shoot."

He opens his other eye. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"W-what?"

"The picture you posted on Instagram, who's the lucky guy?"

Shoot.

"Oh that? I have uh no idea." I'm sorta wishing, hoping it is you.

Zhengting nods and the teacher walks in, signalling the start of History class.

***

My eyes feel heavy, and the teacher's monotone voice does not help one bit. I peek a little to my right and see Zhengting taking notes like a good student. Meanwhile, my notes are filled with sketches.

70 likes

@ying.yang - oops

10 comments

@haharin - wtf listen in class

@ying.yang - @haharin i cant im gonna fall asleep soon

@e.jung - tsk tsk

@ying.yang - @e.jung @haharin WILL BOTH OF YOU LET ME LIVE!?!

I didn't even know the bell rang until I looked around and saw people packing their bags, getting ready to go home. I quickly stuffed my phone in my pocket, standing up to pack my bag until I saw a piece of paper hurriedly folded on my desk.

'Ying Yue,

Meet me at the field if you wanna know who I am'

My heart started pounding for no reason. What if this was a prank? What if this note was left for someone else? Well actually it did say my name but the chills ran down my spine. I shook my head and went along with it, stopping by my locker to bring my Physics textbook with me to hit the person if needed.

***

The closer I get to the field, the farther away I am from the crowds of people.  I stop at what looks like the middle, plot my stuff on the ground and wait.

"Wenjun I told you that you shouldn't have gone to the washroom right now, look, Ying Yue, is already here."

"Ting calm down, just go up to her and say I love you or whatever."

My ears perk up at the familiar voice, but the other voice speaking says something that makes me freeze.

Wait, does that mean?

"Ying Yue."

I turn around and look at Zhengting.

"It's you?" I say, cringing at how I sounded so blunt.

He rubs the nape of his neck and laughs awkwardly. "Suprise?"

I giggle and smile. "I'm glad it's you."

250 likes

@tingting - smile brighter than the sun. My love

30 comments

@yellowturnip.justin - oH!?! IT WAS YING YUE THIS WHOLE TIME!?!

@fanchangechange - cute

@quanzhieeee - I ship

@byewenjun - freaking finally. thought you were going to die alone

@tingting - @byewenjun TAKE THAT BACK

@ying.yang - sksks LMAO @byewenjun

100 likes

@ying.yang - i guess something good did happen after all. im glad its you

30 comments

@tingting - ily

@ying.yang - ily2 loser

@e.jung - @haharin have we been replaced?

@haharin - @e.jung I think so :(

@ying.yang - @e.jung @haharin shut up you guys. you were the ones who left me in the first place!

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