#im not pulling a larry thing here

[aviradasa]

Hi :) ! I hope you're doing well <3 . I was wondering if you could do some Larry Johnson x chubby!fem!reader hdcns, along with some Sal Fisher ones too ? 🖤 Ily !!

Yesss there is not enough chubby reader on here, and as a chubbier girl myself, I couldn't wait to write this!! And Ilyt 🖤🖤 I hope you enjoy these Lil HCs

Larry and sal x Chubby!Fem!reader HCs

Separately of course

{Fluff} Warnings: some swearing,mentions of creeps but that's it.

Masterlist

Larry:

Ok, to start, Larry with a Chubby Reader is a match made in heaven

He doesn't care you got a Lil meat on your bones his literal catchphrase is

"Well, there's just more of you to love."

He lives by it.

You will never see him be one of those guys that tells you not to eat something cause 'you gotta lose a few pounds'

Naw he don't give a fuck. It's your body he loves you no matter what.

Also, I've touched on it in the past, but I think Larry is a touchy guy.

Like not even in an inherently sexual way, it's literally just how he shows love

With you, it's all hugs,kisses,cuddles,grabs, and squeezes.

He loves how soft your skin feels even in the spots with bumps or stretchmarks he still loves it.

He would lowkey like to trace your stretchmarks. Or maybe paint them. I could see him turning your stretchmarks into like a cool as lightning piece.

Also, he would love just laying on you. He gets hella comfortable just laying on your thighs.

And if he gets the chance to fall asleep on them. That's it he's out like a light for hours.

But if you move, he will wake up and be like

"Where the fuck are you going?"

He's also your number 1 defender/Protector

cause ain't nobody gonna talk to his girl in a way he don't like.

Someone makes fun of your weight.

Well, now they are insecure about their own.

He's all about treating others how they treat you.

He has and will make a bully insecure the same way they made you insecure, but while he does it, he's talking you up the whole time

Cause you're perfect.

Now, if someone is hitting on you, he's lowkey proud like

"Yeah, my girls, great, and nobody else can have her"

But if they are making you uncomfortable or just downright fetishizing you ( i hate when this happens and if it happens to you to im so sorry)) he's getting you tf outta there, and who knows. He gets feisty he might try to square up with them 😭

He's just really awesome.

He takes care of you and loves you so much

To him, weight doesn't mean shit. He loves you for you. Your personality is what matters to him. And he will always be there for you.

Even if you're feeling insecure, he's pulling you outta that state of mind.

But let's be honest with him, it's almost impossible he never gives you the chance to feel bad about yourself.

He reasures you before you even realize you need it.

Overall, he's just a great boyfriend no matter what size you are

Sal:

Alright, sal is just the sweetest damn thing on earth

You think he gives a FUCK your a Lil Chubby?

Naw

I mean, when he was younger, even he was a little Chubby.

Plus, the guy got his face blown off. He's not the type to judge

He's just happy that he has someone that he loves and that loves him for who he is.

That's what means the most to him

And he does his best to show it.

He's not as touchy as Larry, but he still is big on it, especially farther into your relationship

The more he trusts you, the more it becomes

He lives for your hugs. He finds it really comforting. You're like a little pillow

Like if he wakes up in the night from night terrors or a vision. He will just grab you and pull you into a cuddle

The next morning, you wake up, and you have to poke him to make sure he's just sleeping and not dead

You just have that calming effect on him. idk

He is just always holding you

Your hand,your waist, an arm over your shoulders (if he can reach)

He also does not care about what you eat.

He's just like girl do whatever you want.

If you do wanna lose weight ok just do it responsibly.

Don't hurt yourself in any way.

Honestly, this could go for both him and Larry.

Getting onto the topic of protection

sal is a sassy dude.

especially as an adult. Dude, hit 19 and said fuck it I'm done.

Someone insults you for your weight ok well sal is talking shit on their whole bloodline.

he has a roster of insults he's come up with over the years

And he can be mean as fuck 😭

And the thing is, he doesn't even swear a lot while doing it. He is pulling up with words that even you're just like, "What?"

So just cause they said something to you, he's not only making fun of them but also there intelligence without even trying

Who needs to swing when you have sals attitude.

Now, if someone normally hits on you, he doesn't really care he might wait for them to leave, then chuckle about it with you

But if they are full on like touching you or fetishizing you, he don't let it slide.

He lowkey finds it fun to fuck with creeps.

Like, don't get me wrong, he hates what people do it to you in public, but he just loves the chance to talk his shit

just watching him make fun of them. cheers you up. just cause let's face it

he's 5'8 as an adult, and he's kinda lanky, so watching him make fun of someone bigger than him is hilarious

He has made a dude cry.

It was hilarious. You lowkey forgot the dude had full-on grabbed your ass

But yeah, other than that, Sal just doesn't give a fuck your chubby your a human being and he loves you.

And he always will.

You're also never insecure with him. He lets you know how beautiful and lovely you are and how much he appreciates you.

And you do the same for him

You guys are just the best together 🖤

[cumulo-stratus]

“Lend Me Some Vanilla?”

Pairing:spencer x Baker!reader

Description: Y/n goes to spencers house to ask spencer if he has any vanilla extract when theres a possible gas leak and no ones allowed to leave their aparment until the morning when someone can come check it out..

Warnings: fluff, one eensy weensy curse

Flufftober Day 14: Locked in/trapped

A/N: ik the "Gas leak" is shit but I couldn't figure something else out I'm sry guys😭😭

"knock knock knock" 

Spencers attention was pulled from his book by the sound a of a knock at the door. Wondering who it was- Spencer hoisted himself from his comfortable spot on the large leather couch to answer the door. 

“creakkk”

as the light of the hallway bled into the much more dimly lit apartment, a man in sweatpants, a white shirt that read “bad-ass baker” is a rainbow font (u know the meme font im talking abt), and an apron with bits of flower and egg splattered over it.

“hi im so sorry spencer- but i really need some vanilla extract- im on my last batch of cookies and i ran out. I would ask if it wasn’t super necessary but since i had to close my bakery because its under renovations right now, so to make money i’ve been doing orders and making them from home and i need to get these cookies done tonight im so sorry-“

“i have vanilla..”

spencer cut off his neighbors rambling, silently inviting him inside while he fetched the vanilla.

“thank you so much by the way, i can make you something as thanks!”

y/n stood awkwardly behind the couch, eyes surveying the room. spencers back was to the common area, his arm outstretched to reach the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Spencers body language was comfortable, as he and y/n had been friends since he moved in 2 years ago, and he knew the baker well. spencer knew him as the neighbor with silly shirts and a bakery, and the neighbor that gave him the extras that didnt get sold at the end of the day in little plastic take out containers. 

“Oh no its okay the leftovers from your bakery are thanks enough”

spencer said with a chuckle, and y/n laughed too. And just as spencer was walking over both y/n and his phones dinged from the pocket of y/ns apron and the coffee table where spencer had left it when he got the door. Y/n pulled out his phone, seeing a text from the landlord. As y/n read his face fell, getting the attention of spencer and causing him to ask;

“What? Is something wrong?”

“check your texts- Larry sent something about how we cant leave our apartments..”

The look on spencers face was one of confusion, and he grew even more confused when he read the text detailing that no one was to leave their apartment- at any cost because of a possible gas leak, meaning they had to send people to check in the morning- but until then Larry didn’t want to risk it. 

“soooooo.. what do i do know?”

y/n looked to spencer for guidance, wondering what to do. spencer didn’t quite know either, but being the rule follower he is he decided the best course of action was for y/n to stay. He also knew the statistics of gas leaks and how dangerous they could be- so he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“well, i dont know how safe it is to be in the hallways right now, its probably best if you stay here until morning, or at least for a couple hours until Larry can get someone in here to check it out..”

now if this was most anyone else y/n would’ve just declined and held his breath while he walked the 10 feet to his door down the hall, but this was spencer. And much to no ones surprise, y/n had been crushing on the FBI agent from afar for 6 months now. He was in love with his style, his apartment (from what he’d seen), his face, his hair. Y/n had a tendency to romanticize things, just ask his friends, and this was the perfect opportunity. So when spencer proposed he stated over night just to be safe, y/n agreed almost immediately.

“ya i should probably stay the night, just to be safe you know? And by the way, if im staying over night do you mind if i put my apron in your kitchen? i dont wanna get flour on your couch…”

spencer chuckled and nodded, using his chin to point towards the kitchen where y/n could leave his dirtied apron. After y/n left his apron splayed out on the counter, abandoned spencer chuckled at his shirt, which was now visible. When y/n noticed spencers laughs he looked at him confused, following his line of sight, and he was met with his shirt. 

“oh ya- my shirt? i got it as a joke gift from a friend- and i couldn’t help myself”

they both chuckled at this while y/n moved across the room to join spencer where he had taken his spot on the large leather couch back. Y/n plopped down next to spencers, sitting as far away from him as he could without it it being awkward- or at least more awkward than it already was. because little did Y/n know but spencer had been simultaneously admiring y/n from across the hall. And when y/n suggested they watch a show spencer took the opportunity to do away with the awkward silence, suggesting Doctor Who. y/n almost immediately agreed, taking the remote from the coffee table and handing it to spencer to pull up the show. 

Once the show had started, the lights of the TV screen illuminated the room while spencer pulled a blanket out of a basket and spread it out over both y/n and himself. And unconsciously y/n scooted closer to spencer, hoping for more warmth from the soft throw. Or maybe more warmth from spencer, who knows..

After a couple episodes, y/n eyes were beginning droop as he had been up since 5 am, baking. Spencer- the ever profiler- noticed this. But despite the fact that y/ns blinks were gradually gaining length each time- he kept shifting a little bit, trying to get comfortable. And now if it had been a couple hours ago when y/n knocked on the door then spencer would’ve never done it, not in a million, billion years. But now they had been talking and watching their show for at least 2 1/2 hours now, spencer giving facts and corrections, y/n giving opinions, for the pair to then debate upon. And spencer felt confident enough to invite y/n to lean on him.

“ you know, if your tired.. then i dont mind if you wanna lay on me- you must be tired…”

“ya- how did you know..?”

Y/n’s voice was that of someone who was already half asleep, the constant sound of the tv lulling him to sleep before spencer could even answer. But spencer didnt mind- he loved admiring y/n, his face so incredibly peaceful. And he thought to himself, ‘the cookies can wait till morning’, before soon doxing off himself.

The End 

[cannibala-co]

DELTARUNE: MOTU PATLU THEORY

THATS RIGHT BABY!! IM BACK WITH THE THEORIES!! I couldn’t just stop at chapter… I dunno six! Yeah, I may have solved the Susies Inside chapter, but what about Chapter 3?? Well I got news for you guys…

Motu. And Patlu. Never heard of them? What are you, living under a rock or something… well… it’s a Hindi cartoon that’s really popular overseas… but wait. That’s the POINT! Your not SUPPOSED to know it… because it’s discarded…

So Every secret boss so far has a habit of being a darkner based on discarded/Forgotten/Unwanted items… well. How many people in the states know this cartoon? Not very many,,, even though it’s great… so could Motu and Patlu be what the next secret boss is based off of? Let’s see gamers…

EVIDENCE ONE: BIG GUY SKINNY GUY

Comedy duos, you know them, you love them. Woody, Buzz. Mario, Luigi. Bob, Larry. But what does this have to do with Motu and Patlu… erm guys… notice anything about most of them?! Mario, Buzz, Bob, and Motu: bulky big guys. Luigi, Larry, Woody, and Patlu: tall, thin guys… oh my goodness!! Motu and patlu ALSO fit that theme… “But how does this fit in with Deltarune chapter 3?!” Your asking… oh my gosh guys this is too easy!!

erm… Sans and Papyrus, the most iconic comedy duo next to none, is also bulky and thin. Guys?? Notice anything?? I think THIS proves that they’ll use blue soul… and that they’ll be cannon!! But need more proof?? SAY NO MORE:

On the left is Sans and Papyrus’s House, and on the right is Motu and Palau’s. Notice the similarity’s?? I do…

Maybe the Motu and Patlu secret boss could be a duo, and make fun of the whole trope of smart guy who does all the work and lazy dumb guy… hrm…

EVIDENCE TWO: CHARACTER SIMILARITIES!

Okay so we already talked about how Sans and Motu and Papyrus and Patlu are BASICALLY the same guy, but if your STILL not convinced, I got more…

Rook. Mike. Whatever there gonna be, the main boss of Chapter 3 seems to be a cheater, a criminal of sorts… well… hehee… you know who ELSE is a criminal?? JHON THE DON. That’s RIGHT. The TRUE and NEO villain of Motu and Patlu, who’s the son of motu and patlu’s town. He’s always causing trouble with his lackeys around… could this mean that chapter 3’s main boss is based on the Villian of Motu and Patlu, while the secret boss is the good guys…?! No… no… erm… YES! It’s kind of OBVIOUS??

My theory is the main boss is gonna be Mike, now dubbed “The Don.” He must’ve not only backstabbed Soamton, but the chapter three secret boss… and Tenna will be… I dunno… probably his own character.

Anyways, Gaster. “Gaster? This crazy guy who does bad things?” You may be asking what GASTER has to do with this theory… heh… well, gaster in undertale was the Royal Scientist, right? Well… erm… somebody pull up Motu Patlu Wiki!

He’s a SCIENTIST… who doesn’t treat his PATIENTS well… sounds familiar…

Dr. Jhakta also uses Motu and Patlu as Guinea Pigs for his work. Gaster uses darkners and does stuff that’s evil… or whatever. I think. I dunno BUT THE POINT IS GASTER MUST'VE LIKE EXPERIMENTED ON THE SECRET BOSS WHICH CAUSED THEM TO GO INSANE!! Erm…!!! Yes!!

FINAL PART: WHAT OBJECT ARE THEY

So at first I thought they could be like a bootleg DVD or whatever. But wait guys… remember where the chapters dark world is…

And then think about what Motu is known for. Dumb… lazy… but also, when he eats his favorite FOOD he gets super STRONG… wait. FOOD?! Guys what’s in houses? Kitchens… guys… what’s motus favorite food…??

SAMOSAS. THE DISCARDED OBJECT IS LIKE FROZEN SAMOSAS IN THE FRIDGE OR SOMETHING!!!

and if your STILL. Not. convinced… here’s some stuff

Yeah yeah yeah bye

[strawberrylabs]

Can you do a Larry Johnson X reader with ADHD, Fluff story

(A bit more info abt me: I have style my hair in an Afro with bangs just above my eyebrow which is dyed black, I’m black but with light skin, I curse a lot and I’m usually seen as loud or childish, and I’m an ENTP)

And can it be in a setting where we go out to an arcade or smth?

Please and tysm!!

Arcade Date!

Larry Johnson x Adhd!reader

Im so so sorry for how long this took! Tumblr keeps eating my posts and I didn’t realise this one had been eaten too until today ;-; this should’ve been posted months ago </3

Anyways! Technical issues aside! Hope you enjoy!

“Fuck yeahh!! Beat that score Larry!”

“You’ve gotta be cheating! There's no way you beat my score! Sal! You’re with me right? Y/n’s cheatin!”

Said blue haired male looks at the two lovers hunched over the game as he sips on a slushy. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He knew you guys were going on a date, he just had to make sure you two behave and don’t kill anyone. He now regrets his decision.

“Uh.. soooo… Im gonna go over here”

“Hey- Sal! Get back here, don't walk away! You gotta help me beat y/n and their freakish hyperfocus!” Larry calls after his best friend before turning to face you, who was still clicking away at the game, unblinking.

“No fair! I didn’t know you hyperfixated on this game recently! You have ADHD superpowers!”

You chuckle

“Actually, I told you about it last week- Yeah! Beat the score again!”

Larry groans as he grabs your hand and drags you away from the machine.

“Alright! Next game! This time I’m gonna beat your ass!”

“Oh yeah? Not if I beat your ass first! I’m a pro gamer, you don’t stand a fucking chance!” You proclaim loudly, causing a startled mother to cover her child's ears and glare at you for your use of profanities.

“Oops.. sorry” You give a little apology wave as Larry laughs at you

You punch his arm lightly before making your way to a claw machine.

“Come on man these things are rigged!” Larry protests as you fish out your coins from your pocket.

“What, are you that bad at a silly game?” You tease him as you insert the coin.

You try your hardest to grab a little alien plush in the middle, but even when you grab it, it drops as soon as the claw lifts it into the air.

You groan

“This thing is so rigged!” Larry laughs at you again.

“Told you dude! Let me try” Larry lightly pushes you away to try win the alien plush.

After way too many attempts, and lots of money spent on the claw machine, Larry manages to hook the claw on the tag of the alien.

You both gasp and you grab Larry’s arm as the claw moves to the slot in the corner, waiting with held breaths.

When the alien drops in the prize box you both scream and start jumping while pushing each other back and forth, earning you some strange looks from people nearby.

“Yes! You did it!” You laugh

“That I did. I believe you owe me an apology” Larry grins at you

“Ugh, fine. Maybe you’re not as crappy at games as I thought.” 

Satisfied, Larry grabs out the alien and looks at you before handing it over.

“For you, milady” He dramatically bows while putting on a silly accent.

You laugh “You’re so cliche”

He stands up straight and smiles as he pulls you into him for a hug.

You both freeze as you hear a camera shutter.

“Nice, can’t wait to show this to the rest of the gang.” 

You turn around to see Sal standing there with his phone, pointing it at the two of you.

“Sal! You prick! Give me that phone!”

“Dammit Sal! Get back here!”

You and Larry proceed to chase a laughing Sal around the arcade before the three of you are told to leave by the employees.

“This is why I can’t let you two go anywhere unsupervised.” Sal tuts

“Excuse you! If you hadn’t taken that photo, we wouldn’t have been kicked out!” Larry nods his head at your statement

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Sal don’t gaslight us!” 

 Cue you and Larry yet again chasing Sal back to the apartments.

Little did you know, Sal posted the photo, and a video of you two chasing him to a group chat with the gang.

Sally Face: *1 photo and 1 video* Yeah, they’re definitely made for each other.

I hope you enjoyed it!

-Strawberry🍓

Masterlist

Rules

[kaipotato]

Announcement regarding my Hermitcraft AU

hello fellas! I am happy to announce the start of the fic writing for my Hermitcraft AU, which is currently dubbed the merger au, but the name is subject to change

there is a public doc with the lore, species, and introductory stuff which can be found here

canon designs will be posted over the coming week(s), starting the day this is posted

i will try to be consistent with chapters and im planning for once every month or sooner if possible

this is also my first ever fic so it WILL have flaws

the fic will contain light shipping with NO nsfw content, possible gore, and horror imagery so if any of that makes you uncomfortable DO NOT INTERACT

all shipping is of the characters, not ccs

and for the people who are new to the au, here is the intro which is also avalible on the public spreadsheet:

-------

[The fic would follow the pov of Scar but may alternate sometimes. It is set in season 10 and Scar is still suffering the effects of Secret Life.]

 Since Scar never died in Secret Life, he was pulled out of the loop manually by the secret keeper and was almost coaxed into becoming one, but he escaped in time before any major damage was done. 

Except the secret keeper follows him.

When Scar fled the watchers' realm, he accidentally led the secret keeper to the Hermitcraft S10 world, giving them access to it and every other Hermitcraft world before it. In an attempt to communicate with Scar and bring him back to the watchers,the secret keeper uses this new “tool” to mess with reality and merge the different worlds. Some days, a random building from season 8 might show up in a crater, other days Larry may return because “the snails built him on the cart” (lie), and sometimes this even affects the hermits themselves, causing sudden wardrobe, personality, and motive changes.

 Like how Joel randomly grew a Tanooki tail when joining the server. 

Many people blamed the servers' already weird aspects in terms of species, but others suspected it was caused by the transition to becoming a “hermit.” Joel himself claimed it was caused by too much time around Etho and that it was because “Etho is so obsessed he used his mind to give me a tail so that we had something in common.” No one believed him.

And we can’t forget Etho somehow getting a glass monopoly, which was also pointed out by some when the permits were handed out, and is also not possible since every hermit only got 6 shopping permits. The keeper seemed to favor Etho in this way.

Maybe it was Magic Mountain’s looming presence and mystic powers, but Scar felt that many things were off this season. From the weird references to past seasons, Etho’s odd luck, Joel’s mutations or…..

…..was it the feeling of not being alone?

---

aaand thats all you get for now ;)

all content will be under the hermitcraft merger au tag and any ideas or fanart is welcome! <3

[louisisalarrie]

Was that crystabell Riley phone call ever debunked coz it’s the only thing that makes me doubt Larry

OH BOY this takes me back hahahaha. good god, that was a wild time on tumblr.

back in the day, we had fairly legit groupies (often times sleeping casually with Oli/Calvin and 1d’s other friends), who always said that H and L would never pull and always politely decline. They said that if a “groupie” said they’d slept with Harry, that’s how you knew they weren’t legit, because those two never pulled.

Now, im not saying every story we heard from the groupies was true, but the “receipts” we got from some of the ones who weren’t in a trusted friendship with the bigger 1d blogs here at the time, that weren’t trusted by us, often said the most ridiculous things. I’d recommend checking out a bunch of groupie chats here, to gauge a little more about what was going on at this time during the fandom. It was wild.

Anywho, yes, this was debunked. Antis like to use it because you can hear Zayn… but you can’t hear Harry? Why tf is Harry there but dead quiet and not saying anything? Also, of course they’d be aware that phone calls with them would be recorded. It was all just a bit of a mismatched shit show of a wattpad story.

Now, IF this was legit, would Zayn just be using Harry’s name to encourage the girls to come up? Isn’t he himself an international superstar? He wouldn’t need to convince them to come because Harry is there. But it does sound a whole lot like he’s trying to convince these girls which is ridiculous like I wouldn’t need any convincing at all, but these gals would like to think they’re heavily in demand and the boys were just desperate to sleep with them like come onnnnnnnnn.

It was debunked by groupies who weren’t Larries and were actually antis, larries, and some other antis lol. If I remember correctly, we analysed the audio and found that some bits were actually snippets of interviews or the voices had been doctored or faked or something. It was kind of decided somewhat unanimously that it was faked.

But don’t doubt larry because of this shit. People went to some crazy lengths back in the day.

[chaoticnezz]

Could you possibly do a comfort story with Larry from Sally face? It doesn’t have to be anything specific but maybe just friendly cuddles and reassurance? Thanks :D

Honestly, Larry would be an amazing big brother if he had a little sister, so I kinda imagine he would see you as one

🌸F!reader x Larry (platonic)🌸

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Addisons appartments weren't all too pretty, nor was it in the best condition. But the residents helped make up for it. Maybe some of the residents were magicans because it was extremely easy to get along with them.

Others not really so much. You had a few classes with a guy named Xander he was, in all honesty, the most popular dude in the school. Ladys wise that is. He just had such a carefree air around him, not to mention that he wasn't bad looking at all. his black hair always seemed so well taken care of, and he almost always had a smillllllle on his face.

Maybe that was what drew you to him. Maybe that was the first warning. A smile can be used for many reasons.

You watched as the leaves twirled in the wind as you sally, and ash all sat near the pond. Y/n didn't you say you were waiting on someone? huh, oh yeah, im waiting on Xander. You smiled at ash, but before she could say something, you heard the sound of a car door opening. Looking over, you saw Xanders smilely, face staring down at you.

Hey y/n! Ash and sally left you two alone say that they wanted to give you two some private time. Xander smiled and waved the two off. The second the two were no longer able to be seen, his smile dropped. Listen, im going to be honest with you. you're an awful woman. i mean, you can't even cater to your boyfriends desires. On top of that, you're not even good-looking. the only reason I got with you was because you had decent assets.

W-what, why are you saying all these things to me? See, you can't even understand what im saying. I don't want to be with you anymore. Is it that hard to understand. Before you could speak, Xanderes phone goes off. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a date with my girlfriend. Without another word, he got into his car and drove off. You didn't cry at first, maybe because the shock was a bit too much for you. Maybe that's also how you found yourself here.

Room 1B The room was located in the basement. Luckily, Lisa had given you the key to get in if you ever needed to. You enter the apartmenet and imedeantly went to the door that had the keep out door sign on it. You knocked, Who is it? It's me y/n, can I come in, please? Your tone must have been a little bit shakey because Larry rushed and opened the door.

as soon as the door opened, you fet it. As gentel as rain drops, tears began to fall down your face in an endless stream. Woah dude, are you like, alright? The only sound that came from your mouth was muffled clrys. Larry gently pulled you over to the bean bag and sat you down on it. You felt the bean bag dip on one side as Larry sat down next to you.

You hugged Larry very tightly. Surprised at first, Larry soon reciprocated the hug. The two of you sat in scilence that was ocasionaly broken up by a sob. Larry? your weak voice broken the silence. Yeah? Am I ugly? if you were able to see Larrys face, you would have seen a look of shock. Of course not, you're very beautiful, who told you otherwise? Xander.. he said that I was unatractive.

Larry hugged you tighter, Don't listen to what that asshole has to say! He has no taste at all! You should have seen that based on his shoes. you let out a small laugh and snuggled more into Larry. The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Larry beat Xanders ass afterwards :)

[spacedlexi]

hey same anon from yesterday!

first off, good luck with your assignments, Killin myself out here too.

And thanks for the advice! I’m trying to make it canonical while in a modern au, so since this was a mainly S1 part of the series, Clem’s parents + Lee’s wife nonsense still happens, just navigated differently. Different dates obviously happen, some characters are less prominent and others are more (i.e St. John’s useless, or Larry + Lee’s family roles/created)

For the personalities, some characters are just easier to write I think. I’ll never understand the Violet southerner thing, a telltale sight for me is if someone messes that up. (Also basically every story has Minerva as a total asshole so that’s funny)

I tried to implement game lines too, while putting it in modern context! And the end of the day you’re right, it is MY choice, just want to have it look nice. Again, thanks and good luck!

using lines ripped from the game can definitely be helpful, especially if it feels natural in the scene, i would just be careful in not leaning on it too much. adding a twist to it definitely helps. but really try to pay attention to the cadence with which characters speak. theres a rhythm to Everything. do they stutter when theyre nervous? do they use a lot of filler words? do they hesitate at all or do they speak confidently? do they enunciate? stuff like that. if you can figure that out it makes it easier to write dialogue that really feels like its coming from that character. think about the different ways multiple characters may express the same idea. how does it get filtered through their heads and mouths. its less about What the character is saying and more How theyre saying it. believability and all that. to me it feels like pulling off a magic trick

it really is just a delicate balance of behavior and vocabulary. its why i try to cut a lot of slack to writers when it comes to fic. i know its a hard line to walk, and i'll give points for getting Enough right. especially for characters we dont see much of. thats why even tho it annoys me a bit i understand why so many people write minnie as being a possessive asshole and not much else. its why i end up going down the rabbit hole trying to figure out who she was before the delta. like we Know she was a different person, we just dont know much about that person, and the experience/thought process that she had that turned her from the "didnt even like killing walkers" never mind the darkness minnie into the minnie that killed her sister. i find her to be a really interesting character because its obvious she still cares about the ericson group in some fucked up way (sans clem she just sees her as an obstacle to getting them back) and i Do wish that depth was examined more in fics. but maybe im just not reading the right ones

ANYWAY i hope this has all been helpful and good luck with your writing 💕

[beetlejuce]

hii!! i consider myself a independent catb fan since i got into then in 2019 and i obsessed over the songs and lyrics and stuff but never actually got to the fandom? like never knew the fan side of things just the surface level (i was the obsessed and totally into the fandom from another group so i stayed at my comfort zone haha)

with that being said!! im here to ask you kindly if you could tell what happened between them? like what the fans knows with details because i only know the facts about the show being canceled, bob, benji and bondy left and they unfollowed/blocked van but since i was looking around those days i've seen memes and stuff and a few things i missed out and i wanted to understand :(( if its too much to ask like too much work for you its okay!! but i think it would help other people who feel a little lost about everything as well :)

thank you in advance!

hello lovely, and welcome, we're glad to have you here! might i ask which band you were obsessed with instead? and i can definitely understand, i was actually the same way before i actually got involved in the fandom over the summer. c:

and yeah, I can give a quick rundown! i don’t think there’s an official post detailing what went on since lockdown, so here we have:

A (brief) Summary of CaTB’s Decline

Silence from the band once the pandemic hit. Lack of communication ever since has gotten fans quite frustrated, and remains so today. Since March 2020.

A fan noticed that Bondy, Bob, and Benji resigned on Companies House, which made the fandom wonder if the band had split. March 2021.

Catfish play Reading + Leeds Festival, collectively relieving everyone that they were there. August 2021.

However, Bob announces his departure a month after R+L on Instagram. He’s been working on his own music ever since. September 2021.

Bondy’s friend releases the Hide and Speak podcast, with him as a guest. More speculation on him leaving the band as he’d exclusively used past tense when speaking about his time in Catfish, along with a few statements he made towards the end that people interpreted as slating Van. December 2021.

Unfollowing commences. The fandom freaks out upon seeing Van’s following count go down, thinking he’s been active on IG. Chaos. Turns out, it was simply Catfish’s ex-tour manager Steve removing him as a follower. Later on, Bondy seems to unfollow Van and Larry, with rumours that he’s even gone as far as blocking both of them. Odd since Van hadn’t been on IG since 2017. Start of 2022.

^ As of today, Van follows Benji and Larry. Benji follows Van and Larry. Bondy only follows Bob. Bob only follows Bondy. Larry follows nobody.

Bondy got drunk on Tom Ungerer’s (bassist for Sam Fender) IG live, where he says he’s not fond of Van. When asked if Catfish were splitting up, he laughed, looked away, and said “I have no fucking idea, it’s got nothing to do with me.” Bondy also stated he’s working on new music, “trying to make music fun again, last time I was in Catfish and the Bottlemen, I was never allowed to make my own music.” With this live, Bondy had essentially confirmed he and Van have fallen out, and his creative freedom was limited when he was in the band. February 2022.

Larry logs onto social media for the first time in literal ages to unfollow everyone, and remove all his content. February 2022.

Catfish were supposed to open for Stereophonics in Cardiff in mid-June, but they pulled out two weeks prior due to unforeseen circumstances. June 2022.

More silence. Then, Bondy made his statement, confirming he officially left the band back in March 2021 and hasn’t had any affiliation with the band since, due to “reoccurring intolerable behaviour” within the band. This means he had stepped in as a session musician in the last 4 summer shows that Catfish had played. He also described relationships in the band as dysfunctional. Fans have taken this to be at the cause of Van, though there isn’t much clarification on whether this is true or not. Bob then came back on IG and blocked Van and Benji. June 2022.

Dave Sardy (producer for The Ride) posts photos in the studio, teasing possible new music from Van/Catfish by putting the Catfish hashtag in captions on IG. The fandom collectively exploded, again, and so we do every time he makes a post with Catfish in the caption. And every time he likes a comment asking for new music from Van. Since June 2022.

Now, to the present. Van’s disappeared off the face of the earth, the last time we saw him was 400+ days ago when Catfish played Neighbourhood Weekender 2021. Benji recently got engaged. We have snippets of Bondy and Bob (now Rob) working on new music.

in conclusion: rip catb lmfao

who knows wtf is happening with the band 😭

if i missed anything or got something wrong, feel free to add on! i have the memory of a goldfish, so thank you @icouldntfindquiet and @catb-fics for helping me put this together!

[persephoneflouwers]

Hi Angie, i hope it is alright that im calling you Angie, this is C.

Sorry for not replying earlier, I hope you are doing good. I’m also sorry to see that you lost someone so important to you, hope you are feeling better now.

I kinda screenshotted your answer to get back to you at a more suitable time (I see that I have the best timing now that the circus is back in town like talk about that wasted time eh Harry, anyway..)

I’m sorry that the fandom evolved into a place where you (and me and I’m sure many others) are feeling bad for voicing opinions that are essentially the fundamentals of being a larrie. The way this has been happening is particularly disheartening when people accuse us of apparently not respecting their closet or blaming them for their closets, like that is some level of gaslighting and guilt tripping.

I guess the fandom became this way now because louder voices are more occupied with following the biggest popstar (their words definitely not mine) of recent years than two closeted musicians that they can see past all the bs H and his team pull to the point where them voicing all the praise and how this fuck-boy persona is a must to make it big are drowning out the reasonable judgments of many levelheaded fans that can still manage to be here.

It really makes me wonder how it would be now with H and L if the fandom could have been more open with our criticism towards their recent way of handling fame, business etc, like im not trying to attribute more importance than we deserve to us as a fandom in their lives or saying we know better than them but we experienced firsthand how they were attuned to the chatter of larry fandom, maybe some tough love is what they need to hear instead of all the coddling (especially H) they are oddly receiving mostly from this part of fandom.

Also, im not trying to sound insensitive but it feels like they are missing Jay-like figure in their lives who im firmly believing was the voice of reason for them (I dont wanna get into this too much out of respect for Jay)

I have so much respect for you (and other blogs like you) bc you guys refuse to give into pressure of following whats come to be “the truth” and still speak your truths, there is nothing off putting about that believe me, it is admirable.

Im sorry if this ask feels incoherent, if it is so, you are gonna understand why in my following ask which would be just for you.

Hello, C 🦋 it’s so comforting to read your messages every now and then. I hope life is treating you well.

I know I made myself a reputation of an hater, but I’m not. I’m just constantly pushing back whatever stupid move they make. I don’t care if it’s good for their business, it’s not worthy on a human level and I fear the day people will start prioritising job and money and commercial success.

I also understand ignoring whatever thing you don’t like is a way to cope and go through this and curate your experience, but still it won’t make it go away. It’s hard at times, especially here - I’m not particularly close to anyone here so it feels like my experience is just me speaking into the void, you know? - and in this isolation sometimes I feel like the evil character but I don’t think I am. I’m a fan like everyone else, except I am very opinionated and more often than not I don’t agree with what I see/read here and there.

But thank you for coming back. I will not post the other part II because I like that little secret between us 😌 you’ll find me here when you decide to share more of your thoughts of course <3

[mariiii456]

I will ruin all fandoms that exist /JOKe. I'mma make a break in 2 her of the same thing TW : GORE, SU1C1D3 AND HEAVY OMORI REFERENCE

*Mary Barry and Larry are fighting on why Larry won't put on the key for yk but Mary went a bit over board so she said something that broke Larry's hearth for EVER.*

Mary : LARRY JUST PUT ON THE STUPID KEY.

Larry : NO MARY IM SORRY BUT NO

Mary : OH MY GOD I WISH YOU WERE DEAD. I NEVER LIKED YOU, I WANTED TO BE FRIENDS BECAUSE I NEED YOU TO DO THE PROJECT.

Larry was silent. Barry and Mary were in shock. Barry noticed that Larry was crying? He never cried in front of them before...

Larry ran out of the door.

Mary : Larry wait.!

Barry : Mary why would you say that?!

Mary : i-I im sorry it was on accident..

Barry : it's ok I guess.. We are gonna visit Larry after school.

Mary : ok...

After school Mary and Barry went to visit Larry. They knock on the door

Larry's mom : oh hello! Welcome your Larry's friends right? Come in come in

Mary : thank you Ms.. But uhm where is larry?

Larry's mom : I think he is in his room he went home early I don't know why but yeah I think he is in his room

Mary : ok then thank you!

Larry's mom : it's my pleasure!

Mary and Barry gently open the door. Larry was holding a g3n and was pointing it to his head

Barry : l-larry. put that g3n down..

Larry : I'm sorry Barry.. And here is your birtsay present Mary. Happy birthday...

Barry : LARRY NO-

Larry pulls the trigger and blood is everywhere. Mary was in shock. Barry just sat there and cried while calling 911

Ok bye I'mma make pt2 later I'm bored and planning on drawing this 🤭🤭👍👍🔥🔥🔥

[anideawhosetimehascome]

all I’ve been doing for the past week is reading shyan fics and binging their content so I’m going to make a fic rec soon because, that’s who I am I guess

[bluewinnerangel]

Hi there! I can to you from twopoppie’s blog! I sent her an ask about someone who’s willing to explain recent Larry theories! Is that someone you?!

Hi! Happy you found me, and of course I’d love to :)

So I'm going to be real honest here, I was working on this loads today. I made a big and I mean BIG draft, like a detailed long collection of shit they pulled and explaining each thing but the further I went the more uncomfortable I got. Like, gathering everything together in one single post. But I definitely want to discuss these things, perhaps I'll divide the things I wrote into seperate posts at some point, but for now I just wanna ask you instead to be more specific which theories to explain? I'd be very happy to go into detail about individual ones, and I might have a lot of shit ready in my drafts because of it now lol.

Anyway, I copied most of it to another draft but left some, have some very loud recent-ish larrying bits:

Feb 28 2020 (Harry’s Falling MV released but also:) Harry did an interview, where he said

“the fish is uh... he’s traveling at the moment, he’s on a gap year, and hopefully he will come back safe. We’re taking a little time apart”

while Louis’ Tour would start only 5 days later.

Same days:

They then geared the larrying in full speed as these dorks were in some kind of out-bluegreening eachother competition. It’s not that I want to be that person that starts screaming everytime they wear something remotely blue-and-green and call it “larry proof”, but, they seem to avoid it like their lives depend on it and then suddenly boom there is blue-and-green 3 days in a row???

Harry papped march 1st - doing interviews march 2nd - and louis’ video that released march 3rd (explained here):

July/September 2020 - during lockdown eleanor posts this one pic of louis to her instagram stories, and puts it in her highlights (it’s still there in the uh dogs folder), this is like one of the very few Louis-with-eleanor moments of the past... years? But then about 2 months later Harry "makes it his" in a way when he takes a picture with a fan wearing the same shirt... And it’s a vintage shirt, and Harry doesn’t wear Umbro (Louis often does). Sooo that’s the same damn shirt. Here a good tag about it.

Dec 12 2020 - this idiot wears a MASSIVE MASSIVE H during his liveshow. We barely see him and the one, the one show he does he shows up like this:

Really could have worn anything, chooses a plain black shirt with a ridiculous H on it. He really must love Hotels. The fact that Harry often goes by H, signs of his tweets with it and all just makes it 10x worse lol.

Jan 4/5 2021 (same day holivia happened) people who bought Harry's merch (that wasn't advertised to have bluegreen hearts on them) started receiving them, once opened it turned out they were literally the most vile bluegreening mess...

Jan 31 2021 - I went into deep detail about the spotify backgrounds but ill just link this here instead, basically Louis put Harry's tattoos on his spotify on during his Walls anniversary and Harry's birthday. He also tweeted a song "Maybe Tomorrow"

considering it was H's birthday the next day and it wasn’t even an answer to the question it looks like he really really just wanted to post that song that day and took whatever thing that came closest to a relevant question to answer this to. To make things worse, the song is about maybe tomorrow finding your way home and includes rainbows.

I don't really know if that answered anything, but I hope that helps. Anyway, my inbox is open :)

[dojunie]

ITWD [CH 1]; Wolves? Not as ravenous as one may think.

[★]; TWO BOYS. TWO UNIVERSITIES. TWO RIVALING TEAMS. And then there’s you, stuck weightlessly in the middle of it. The time left on the clock is running out— and soon, you’re going to have to pick a side.

[itwd masterlist] [next part]

sneak peek; You'd caught him staring at you quite a few times during warm up. Eyebrows always furrowed and bottom lip pulled perpetually between his teeth, watching you unreadably like he was deliberating something very hard. Had he just been oogling, you would have simply ignored it— but for some reason, you felt like whatever was running through his brain was a little more weighted than just stealing glances. "Hey you," you whisper. "01. I never got your name." The unclear look in his eyes doesn't waver when he glances at you. "...Jeno. Lee Jeno."

wc; 7.7k

warnings; none!

a/n: here's the first chapter of INTO THE WOLVES DEN! it's finally here! im probably going to make a separate post talking about update schedules and whatnot, so look out for that! thanks for reading!

taglist; @aedreamzy @grassbutneo

.

.

.

YOU AWAKEN TO NOISE. NOISY NOISE.

Not normal, expected sounds, like someone tromping around in the dorm above yours, or the early-bird tennis player that lives two doors down thwacking a ball around in the confines of their own room— because you can sleep through that no problem now, after all, since you've been living here for an entire week— but something closer. Something urgent and unyielding, thudding in your ears even after you roll over and pull your pillow desperately over your head.

The sun is still rising and someone is pounding on your bedroom door.

"What?" you cry. It comes out a tad ragged, like the last thing you’d done before you went to sleep last night was eat shards of glass. "What is it?"

The door squeaks on its hinges as it swings open, and your roommate Yooyoung pokes her head in with a pout so big that it can be seen even in the early morning light. What time is it?

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You told me to wake you up when I got up for practice.”

“Prac…tice?”

Being awoken so suddenly is wreaking havoc on your brain power. Practice, she’d said. Practice? Yooyoung played volleyball. You did not play volleyball. You haven’t had to wake up for practice in months. Why the hell would you—

“The basketball thing, remember? With your dad?”

She rolls her eyes after a moment, sounding exasperated. “Do not tell me you forgot today was the first day of classes, Y/N-ah. It's Monday. Are you serious right now?” And then, under her breath, “What am I going to do with you…?”

You mutter something rude in response, but now that she’s mentioned your father, the reason why you needed her to essentially beat your door down begins to form in murky clarity. First day of classes? (What an understatement. First day of your new life, more like it.)

White sunlight streams through the window of your dorm. Despite how short of a time you’ve been here, the room is already a mirror image of your personality: all your sneakers lined up messily against the closet, the signed Larry Bird jersey frame hanging behind your door (courtesy of Chenle’s incredibly expensive and completely bonkers idea of a ‘gag gift’), and a few of your favorite trophies scattered on various shelves; a dozen little peeks into your inner workings with the music posters on your walls and the pictures of your friends splattered on every blank surface.

You gaze over the photos, lingering on the newest addition— a shitty, half blurred, off-center photo Chenle took of you and Jaemin at Han River a few months ago— before turning to your dorm mate and rubbing the crusties out of your eyes.

“Maybe you should’ve woken me up with a soft, Baekhyun ballad or something then. Not your hulky volleyball punches. I thought we were being raided.”

Yooyoung just laughs a tinkling sound, blonde pony swinging as she disappears from behind the white oak.

Having succeeded in her mission of waking you up, you assume she’s off to clean up for her own early morning activities— varsity captain things that you do not envy— which leaves you to grumble and stew in the terribly bright sunlight of 8AM by yourself.

You should probably follow in her footsteps and go wash your face.

It would wake you up a little faster. It would give you something to do that isn’t sitting around and moping for the next hour before you’re actually obligated to get ready.

Washing your face would also rid you of any morning crusties that linger. It’s a good, formidable, and responsible idea…

…Which means that you only consider it for a second or two, max, before you flop back down into your mattress, kicking around until you’re completely resituated back under the duvet.

The magnetic pull of screwing around on your phone wins out over being a productive human being for a whopping thirty minutes. You spend that time scrolling through Instagram, texting stupid memes to your friends even though they’re definitely not awake yet, shouting goodbye to Yooyoung when she leaves for practice, and eventually end up succumbing to one of those stupid ads that show someone playing a mobile game just terribly enough to piss you off and make you download it out of spite.

It's right as you’re about to angrily sink five dollars into said game (cutting pixelated soap with a boxcutter), that a text swoops down from the top of the screen and allows your bank account a few more seconds to live.

[PapaPointGuard, 8:49AM] Hey, Kiddo. You mind coming into the practice court at 9:30 instead of 10? I'm in an emergency meeting w dean about scheduling. Need someone to set up drills and make sure everything is good just in case it goes over. [PapaPointGuard, 8:50AM] You sure you remember how to place the cones for through-backs? Ha Ha Ha

Very funny. You’d roll your eyes if you knew anyone besides you could see it.

[You 8:50AM] haha yourself, old man. It’s been six months, not a hundred years. i could probably set up tb's in my sleep. [You 8:51AM] i oughta report u to the labor board though for having me up at the asscrack of dawn [PapaPointGuard, 8:51AM] Language, Ace [PapaPointGuard, 8:51AM] And wear something nice, please [PapaPointGuard, 8:51AM] That means no basketball shorts or hoodies. I want the team to think of you like an extension of me, and to take you seriously as an aide to them this season. [PapaPointGuard, 8:52AM] And I know you’d never do anything to jeopardize your health, but remember our talk, yeah? Love you.

Your eyes trail over the last text one, two, and then three times, and your smile slips a little bit more with every iteration.

Of course, you think bitterly, climbing mood instantly taking a blow. Wouldn’t be a conversation with him without that, huh?

Shaking your head, you're about to petulantly toss your phone aside when the sudden ringtone makes you jump— Day 1, by Honne— and your dour mood stops right in its tracks.

Accept call from... 'Na Nana'?

Your frown slowly melts into a smile. He always has had inhumanly perfect timing.

“Oof,” Jaemin laughs. His voice is faint from how far he’d pulled the speaker from his ear after you squealed into the receiver, and you hear the distant chatter of other guys in the background too— was he at the practice gym already? “How are you so giddy this early?” he asks sleazily, a smile obvious in his voice. “It’s because it’s me calling, right? Right?”

“You wish,” you grin. “Gamdogja’s first official practice is today, so I was already awake. You’re calling me from practice too?”

“Yes ma’am. Got a few minutes before we warm up, so I thought I’d bother you. What are you doing?”

“Uhhhh. Good question?”

Putting on the clothes you piled up on your desk last night is what you’re supposed to be doing right now, considering that you’ve now got half an hour less to get ready to leave, but you’d forgotten about that instantly when the phone rang. Oops.

“I’m gonna put you on speaker so I can change, cool?”

“Icy cool. Actually, that reminds me of what Mark and I were talking about last night— we were saying how funny it would be if you wore a Yonsei Basketball shirt to their practice. Like, the brightest, bluest jersey you own, just to really rub it into those guys where your loyalties lay, y’know?”

You roll your eyes at how he cackles. “That sounds suspiciously like something you’d come up with without Mark’s help. You want me to get jumped, is that it? So I’ll come crying back to Yonsei?”

“Jumped isn’t the word for it, but you know if it meant you’d come back…”

“You’re sick, Na.”

Flinging the phone onto your pillow, you rush through tugging the GDSC Basketball shirt over your head and wiggling into your jeans. Before you can ask where Chenle is, belatedly surprised that your phone call with Jaemin hasn’t been interrupted yet by the screechy shooting guard, the universe answers that question for you.

“Noonaaaaa!” His high tone cuts through the air and makes you wince even from halfway across your room. There he is.

“Thought you could escape me, huh, traitor? Are you feeling bad yet?”

There’s a sharp smack on the line. Then the sound of muffled bickering. All you catch is Jaemin’s ‘If you wanna talk, call her yourself!’ before he’s back, huffing into the receiver.

“Anyway! Before I was so rudely cut off, I was going to ask why you're getting ready so early. I thought the wolves were on a mid-start schedule?”

“They are,” you explain as you lace your sneakers. (Do you have to start saying ‘we’ from now on, since you're technically a Timberwolf now…? Ugh. Identity politics.) “But Coach needs me to come in earlier today and set up drills because he’s talking to the dean about something or other.”

“Oh. So your official first day of coaching those brats is about to begin, then?”

“You know I’m not allowed to call them that, Jaem, and I’m not coaching them. I’m doing the same thing I used to do with you guys: Setting up drills, going over movebooks, conditioning, strategy talks…”

You easily list off all the tasks you’d had a hand in helping with when your dad coached Jaemin and the others at Yonsei. “All the regular stuff.”

“The ‘regular stuff’ for you is basically a coach’s salary worth of work, you know. Man, maybe Chenle was right— you’re totally a traitor, Y/N-ah. How are we supposed to compete when they’ve got your big brain behind their plays?”

You’re done getting ready. Realistically, you actually needed to go now if you wanted to get to the court for 9AM, but the last thing you wanted to do was tell Jaemin that. Even if it was through the phone, his voice was the most familiar thing you’ve had the luxury of bringing with you from Yonsei to GDSC— and it’s also the only thing keeping you from thinking about the fact that, in a few hours, you were going to be standing in front of a whole team of Gamdogja Timberwolves basketball players, alone— and the idea of being without him so soon brings a pit to your stomach.

So, instead of telling Jaemin you need to hang up like a normal person: you plop down on your bed and bring the phone back to your ear.

“I’m not a traitor,” you mutter tersely after a moment. “You guys act like I wanted this. To transfer here and leave all my friends behind. I didn’t.”

Even behind your half joking tone, Jaemin must sense the truth in your voice because he only makes a soft hum. “...Yeah. Yeah, I know. I said something stupid, right? I’m sorry. It’s just… weird not having you here.”

“Imagine how weird I feel. It’s like everyone here at Gamdogja is some walking, talking, sports anime caricature, Jaem. No one is allowed to just like soccer passively, or screw around with tennis for fun on the weekends— every student here is the absolute best at whatever they play. I tried to join a pick-up game of badminton yesterday and almost got laughed out of the park.”

“...Badminton? Wow. Don’t you know those freaks will take that game to the death? You should have known better, Y/N-ah, than to try—”

A whistle in the background of Jaemin’s call drags his attention, snapping you out of your grin as well. Shit. You’d gotten kind of carried away again.

Your wall clock now reads an unforgiving, blinking 9:02AM, and the reality of your situation once again hits you with unforgiving speed. You really needed to get going.

“Hold on,” Jaemin says, voice quickly solidifying, taking on a more distracted edge. From the sounds of it he must have to go too. “Coach Hyo is about to start conditioning so I’ve got to hang up soon— But before I go, you’re still coming to our first game on Friday right? The, uh… the team was asking me last night. I mean I don’t know if you remember but it’s on my birthday, so you’re kind of obligated—”

“Na Jaemin I cannot believe you just said that.”

“What! I don’t know, maybe you’ve already gone and made a bunch of cool, know-it-all private school friends. With all the new birthdays you might’ve put in your planner, who knows if you’ll remember mine.”

“You are such a baby. First of all, you know I don’t use a planner. And second of all, I’ve had your birthday basically tattooed in my calendar since we were eleven! I’ve been gone barely a week, and you’re already starting to doubt me? And you say I’m the traitor?”

He only giggles at your indignancy. Brat.

“Mmm… fine. I guess I’ll believe you, Ace. And I’ll call you tonight, alright? Don’t— Jesus, Chenle, I’m coming! You go start the relay if you care so much!— Uh… yeah, don’t let any of those snotty Wolves get you down, okay? Later!”

And without a moment for you to give him your goodbye, the line goes dead and your best friend drifts back into his own world.

Much like you should be, you suppose. But instead, for the third time this morning, you neglect being responsible and flop back onto your duvet for a moment of silence.

Just a week, right? Just a week. Actually, if you wanted to get specific, it was more like five days. You just had to get through five days before you could see him and all your friends again. It feels like endless forever right now, but that was probably because not being pasted to Jaemin's side for longer than a few days practically is forever to you. He's been your other half for half your life.

When you were sulking about the transfer a few weeks ago, your dad had tried to cheer you up by mentioning that it might be a good thing to separate you two for a little while.

"Maybe you guys need this," he'd said. "You both rarely talk to or about anyone else but each other, Ace. New perspectives is never a bad thing, and hell, maybe not being stuck to each other for 23 hours a day will teach you something new about yourselves. Try new things. Meet new people."

To which you'd so quickly replied with, "I know other people!" before he said the rest of the basketball team didn't count, and then... well.

He'd won the debate pretty quickly after that.

You look at the clock on your desk. 9:06, now. With a sigh, you finally force yourself to your feet.

Sitting around in here reminiscing surely wouldn't help your mood; and your first day in the wolves den wouldn’t start itself.

The TB is set up so quickly and so easily, that at first, you're sure you've done something wrong.

Orange cones on the half court line, white cones on the two. Three black and red, brand new basketballs on the half for whoever started the TB. That’s it, right? You'd gone over it twice to make sure you wouldn't get shunned out of the gymnasium for setting up the wrong drill or something stupid like that, but it was good. Perfectly placed.

They're all there, sitting pretty on their points for the team, but... it was only 9:35. You were already done.

And practice didn't start until 10:30.

You really didn’t think this through, and it seems like your dad didn’t either: What the hell were you supposed to do in here for an hour?

Sitting and just waiting was out of the question. All the good that would do is give your thoughts free reign. You look around listlessly and are only met with boring red stadium seats, an empty press box, and vast… silent gymnasium.

(With hindsight being what it is, it should have probably been around this exact point where your brain rumbled to life; where it realized where exactly these thoughts were going to lead. Where the brakes should have been pulled.

But, while regret is a constant in your life, common sense is not— and it should have been a surprise to absolutely nobody what you did next.)

Your hips creak as you bend over to scoop up one of the basketballs.

The dotted leather is firm against your fingertips when you spin it innocently between your palms a few times.

Truly, there’s no reason to pretend. If someone were to see you right now there’s no way they wouldn’t know what was about to happen, but feigning vague interest in the chemical make-up of a basketball makes you feel a little less guilty.

You turn and gauge the distance from here to the other backboard. It’s a little less than half court. 30 feet maybe, and you can practically hear Jaemin in your ear clicking his tongue at you in that way he knows you hate when you hesitate to bring the ball above your head.

'You know better," he'd scold. 'Your heart is pounding because you know you shouldn't be doing this.'

'One free throw has literally never killed anybody,' you think back bitterly.

Ugh. Almost out of spite now, you bend your knees and leap, watching with squinted eyes as it sinks through the net.

Swish!

Well...Alright. You guess you've still got it.

Half court has never been anything crazy to you, so you're not sure why you're so pleased that it went in; but it has been a few months after all. You hesitate a little before you retrieve the basketball, feeling like your lungs are taking up your whole chest when you walk it back a little further than halfway.

Just to see, of course, and what do you know. You make that basket too. But it could have been a fluke! A product of the wind... although you're inside a closed gymnasium, but who knows?

You'll only be sure if you do a few more test shots.

The minutes tick by without your knowledge and you lose count of how many baskets you make.

The intensity grows as well, your silent steps evolving into sharp thuds as you mindlessly go from easy free-throws to full solo attack plays... and fortunately for you, messing around like this is a great cure for boredom.

Unfortunately for you, it turns out to be a great cure for everything else, too— including self awareness.

So it's no surprise that you don't hear the sound of the double doors clicking open.

You only stop when you miss for the very first time. The luck had to run out eventually; you toss the ball wildly at the last second of your imaginary buzzer, and the warble of it cracking off the rim and off the court entirely rings out like a curse. The ball goes completely left field and at this you actually curse; breathing a little hard, you lazily watch it bounce off towards the sidelines forlornly.

Damn.

That’s about as bold a sign to cut it out as any, you think. God, you’re even sweating a little when you jog off to get the ball, returning it to it’s spot on the TB while you wipe your forehead with your wrist.

What time is it? It couldn’t have been that long, you barely—

“That last one was pretty close.”

Your eyes fly open.

Instantly, the gym shrinks. The pleasant warmth in your body turns ice cold.

You would have probably been embarrassed about the wail that came out of your mouth if you weren’t so, so startled; and when you instinctually whirl around to the source of the voice, you're not sure what you're expecting to see.

A murderer, maybe; Possibly a demon. Both would be pretty bad.

A vengeful basketball ghost might be the worst of all.

But of all the things you're expecting to be there when you turn, a boy standing on the other side of the court isn't one of them.

Just... a boy.

He’s dressed head to toe in red Timberwolf gear, but that’s the last thing you take care to notice.

"If you pull in your elbows," he starts, completely unfazed by your scream, "It’ll give you a little more accuracy—"

"What the hell, dude?!"

It comes out a little harsher than you'd intended, cardiac arrest and all, but all he does is blink. The pause gives you enough time to calm your pounding heart and drop back to reality. You’d been about to check the time before he materialized and more urgently than ever, your eyes fly to the scoreboard clock on the wall behind his head.

10:15, it reads.

But... that can’t be right, right? 40 minutes have passed?

“Oh," the boy says suddenly, slowly, and you snap back to him. “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I thought you heard me come in."

You didn’t. At all. How your howl of absolute terror didn’t tip him off to that you have no clue.

He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, and the movement drags you to his attire again. There’s a white ‘01’ stitched onto his sleeve under the tiny Timberwolf mascot and your eyes zero in on it. That’s a jersey number, isn’t it? That’s… a jersey number.

Oh, God. Wait.

"You’re on the basketball team?"

"Yeah,” 01 says. You hope he can’t see how you grimace.

A brief silence falls. You'd thought a lot about how your first interaction with a Timberwolf would go, and whatever was happening right now was not one of them. You stand there are stare at him for what feels like years, half embarrassed you'd been caught running around in here by yourself, and half mortified it was a Timberwolf of all people who'd caught you doing it.

You're expecting him to leave, or go sit down. Maybe even just stand there like he'd no doubt been doing for however long before he decided to say something.

None of those things is what he actually does, though, which is continue to talk to you.

“What about you?"

“What?”

"The girls basketball team," he clarifies.

“Oh, no— No. I’m not an athlete here,” you explain hastily. “I was just, uh. Screwing around. Shouldn't there be more of you?"

"They're outside," he responds simply. "One of the vending machines in the quad broke and it's spitting things out for 100 won instead of a thousand. They're trying to drain it before campus security finds out and fixes it."

"Oh," you say. That sounds like something Jaemin and Chenle would do. "You don't like vending machine snacks...?"

"More like I have no interest in getting arrested over a melted bag of Skittles."

01 doesn't say anything else after this, only pushes his hands deeper into his pants pockets.

Now is a better time than any to introduce yourself properly, right? But before you can tell him who you are, you're interrupted by the sound of an explosion. Or, wait. Scratch that— when you startle for the second time in five minutes (which cannot be good for your heart) you realize that it was not an explosion, but the sound of one of the double doors swinging open at mach speed and slamming into the solid wall behind it. Then, before you even have time to be worried about it, things get a lot more crowded.

Explaining yourself to 01 suddenly seems like the least of your problems.

Sneakers squeak onto the glaze without a care in the world. Bubbling chatter fills the air, player names and numbers flashing on the back of jackets like an out of control score keeper; The rest of the Timberwolves basketball team finally make their awaited appearance. They move in one rolling mass, a compact sea of red tracksuits and surprisingly shiny hair, nice wide smiles and boyish laughter.

The only thing that keeps your stomach from twisting into nervous knots is the fact that your father is in the group too, smiling warmly when he sees you.

"Ace!" he calls out. "There you are!"

Shit. Shit, okay. No more fun, casual conversation. It's time.

"Here I am," you call back. Coach points at his clipboard beckons you over but before you go, movement over by 01 catches your eye.

There are three others with him now. Two of them are oddly lumpy in the stomach area. The taller lumpy one, a boy with dirty blonde hair and possibly the most adorable baby-bird pout in the world, looks around suspiciously before tugging a bag of candy from the collar of his jacket and stuffing it into 01's hand like it's contraband and not... a bag of candy.

You already find the sight kind of curious before you recognize the red and rainbow packaging— it's Skittles the boy has given him— and the coincidence makes your smile only grow.

At least he won't have to go to jail over it, you think to yourself.

After Coach goes over the practice schedule with you, the sections he would have you run while he monitored other things, you’re actually feeling pretty good about everything.

(Good enough to plaster a convincingly relaxed smile on your face, at least.)

You stand behind your father when he blows his whistle to start practice officially and try to look pleasant as the Timberwolves all shuffle from their respective little groups and corners into a half circle around your dad, and consequently, you.

“Good morning, team!” Coach bellows.

A cacophony of deep, still-tired timbres croon back something illegible.

“Ah… Nothing like a bunch of babies crying to liven up my morning, huh? How about we try that again?”

Some of them snicker. “Good morning, Coach!” they shout back, much more lively.

“That’s more like it! So! As you all already know from last week’s briefing, Mr.Woobin, our beloved co-coach, had a… homely event come up recently. One that rendered him unable to participate with us for a while. On such short notice, getting a coach before the season starts tomorrow night—"

At this a few players whoop and holler, and you’re a little surprised when quiet 01 is one of them.

“Yeah, yeah. I wouldn’t be hooting if I had averages like yours, Choi.”

A few ‘Ooh’s join the mix.

“Anyhow. Like I was saying…”

Your dad turns to you expectantly, and you take this as a silent cue to walk forward until you’re line to line with him.

“I’d like to introduce you all to my daughter, Y/N. She’s going to be my co-coach until Woobin returns from his leave. Y/N?”

Showtime.

You scan over their faces as you greet them as lively as they greeted Coach— many eyebrows furrow in curiosity, and a few of the bolder ones even wink when your eyes meet theirs. You fold your arms over your chest to mirror the stance of most of the men in front of you, straightening your posture so you look a little bigger as they quite obviously size you up.

“Like my dad said, you all can call me Y/N. While this is my first official week at GDSC, Coach has told me many good things about this team over the summer. I’m excited to see it first hand, if you’ll have me.”

Unsure of what else to add, you decide to open up the floor for the inquiries they no doubt have. “Any questions…?”

Multiple hands shoot up.

Your eyes land on the same tall, lumpy blonde from earlier, though he’s now mysteriously lacking any extra curves. “You, uh… 05.”

“Hi,” the boy says hesitantly. His voice is much deeper than you’d been expecting by the innocence of his face. “I’m, uh… Jisung. Park Jisung… I’m usually small forward, but sometimes I do other stuff. How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-one years old, Jisung-Who-Plays-Forward. But I don’t care all that much about honorifics and all that, so you can call me whatever you want. Just Y/N is cool with me.”

He smiles slowly and nods like he’s satiated, so you move on to the others.

“06?”

“Hey,” Number 6 says, voice a little smoother, almost melodious. “My name is Donghyuck, but everyone just calls me Hyuck. I cover power forward. Where’d you go before this?”

… Ah. Shit. There’s the first dreaded question. You hope the way your smile falters isn’t too obvious.

“I transferred here from Yonsei.”

This phrase causes exactly the ripple you’d expected it to. A handful of eyebrows shoot up. One person ‘boooo’s playfully. A few members even glance at each other, but thankfully no one outwardly scowls or spits on you or anything.

06, or ‘Donghyuck’ now, merely grins amongst his curious friends.

Tongue poking out from between his teeth, he tilts his head in innocent question. “Did you transfer here cause we’re better?”

A snort nearly rips it’s way out of your throat. Jaemin would get a kick out of that for sure.

“You can prove to me just how good this team is at the first game, yeah, 06?”

A few more ‘Oooh’s, but Donghyuck just grins even wider like the teasing has only energized him. So far, gaining their respect or appreciation or whatever seemed to be going easier than you thought it would be. You’re admittedly feeling a little giddy at how smoothly this is going until your eyes land on the less than pleased gaze of a shorter one in the front… and then to the hand he’s got up by his head. Yikes.

“…10?”

“Liu Yangyang,” he says simply. “Captain. Center. Do you even play?”

And there it is. The second dreaded question.

The obvious reluctance in your response doesn’t matter though. Because before you can even think of what to say, wanting nothing more than to shut down his obvious disbelief with a resounding ‘Yes’, your father is butting in for you.

“No,” he says factually, and you freeze.

Liu Yangyang’s eyes slide between you and your dad like he isn’t sure who to look at— and 01, who’d basically caught you pretending to be Stephen Curry in this gym not even ten minutes ago, is just straight up staring at you.

“Y/N doesn’t play. She can, however, coach the hell out of a few meatheads like you lot; which is why she’s going to run you all through a few warm-up rotations while I get the projector up for the season schedule.”

You can only blink before he wanders off towards the press box, completely absorbed in looking over the sheets on his clipboard and not at all noticing the stunned look on your face.

“What Coach means," you start, rerouting quickly to fill the awkward silence, "Is that you don’t have to worry that I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve been around this sport since before I could walk, and I’ve had years of experience with coaching and game strategy.”

Most of them merely nod.

“So!” you continue with a smile, clapping your hands together, “Uh, anyway! Until I’m more familiar with you guys I’ll probably just be referring to you by number. Is that cool?”

“You remember mine, don’t you?” Donghyuck asks sweetly, and you falter at the sudden gooey look he’s sending you. What’s with that tone?

“Yeah. Do…Hyung, right?”

He immediately looks so scandalized that you lose the façade and laugh.

“Kidding! I know you, Donghyuck. Go warm up.”

He pouts at your teasing, but he goes.

You didn’t enlist anything too cruel off the bat; just the regular gamut of jumping jacks, joint rolling and high-knees before pushing for the more taxing things like holding stretches and quick-pulls. They listen surprisingly well, which is a plus they’ve got on Yonsei; those white and blue punks couldn’t follow instructions if their lives depended on it. The projector finally descends from the ceiling right as the warm up ends.

You clap your hands proudly and direct them over to the stadium seats when you’re finished terrorizing their muscles.

You’re the last one over to the benches because you’re too busy turning the gym lights off and by the time you get there, the only space left is between Donghyuck and 01. Hyuck scoots over and pats the empty seat right between him proudly. It’s cute— so you laugh and indulge him.

Despite his obvious show of interest, though: it’s the guy on the other side of you that you find yourself curious about as you sit down.

01. Skittles, as you’d taken to calling him in your head.

You’d caught him staring at you quite a few times during warm up. Eyebrows always furrowed and bottom lip pulled perpetually between his teeth, watching you unreadably like he was deliberating something very hard. Had he just been oogling, you would have simply ignored it— but for some reason, you felt like whatever was running through his brain was a little more weighted than just stealing glances.

“Hey you,” you whisper. “I never got your name.”

The unclear look in his eyes doesn’t disappear when he looks at you.

“Jeno. Lee Jeno.”

And then almost as an afterthought, he adds, “Shooting guard. And my question is… My question is if I shouldn’t mention the basketball thing to anyone. From before practice.”

What? At first you have no idea what he’s talking about, too caught up on how cute it is that he’s still referring to the Q&A format from earlier, but then he glances over your dad up in the press booth and it hits you.

“Oh. Oh.” You feel your eye twitch. “I mean. I would really appreciate that, actually. Yeah. Thanks.”

“Okay.”

Jeno turns back to the projector screen like he’d never been talking to you in the first place, still gnawing at his bottom lip, but you can’t help but ask.

“Is that what had your mind so preoccupied during the warm-up?”

A very long second passes before he speaks again.

“Was it that noticeable?”

“A little. I could feel the heat on the back of my neck.”

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Sorry? It was really smart of you to pick up on that, though. Why sorry?”

“In case you thought it was weird.”

Jesus. Were you talking to a saint? For him to be as tough looking as he is and still apologize to someone he just met for maybe possibly being weird…

The slides on the schedule reel are ticking by and you’re sure Jeno is only half paying attention because he’s busy talking to you, so you just smile at him and turn back to the front.

“You weren’t being weird. It was nice. Watch the video.”

“Okay,” he says again.

It’s the last thing of substance that you say to him for the next few hours, being that immediately after the slideshow ends, Coach reappears on the court to whip them into the first run of practice practice— a 5v5 on the court with five off conditioning, rotating every twenty minutes.

You’re in charge of running the conditioning and very quickly you deem your first set of players ‘The Troublemakers’.

The leader of which is a mischievous Lee Donghyuck, who you become well acquainted with through the fact that he’s probably the cheesiest, touchiest, most giggly college basketball starter you’ve ever met.

At one point the shifty bunch managed to swindle you into a deal; they'd finish the rest of conditioning without complaining or messing around if you just answered each of their curiosities about your life, to which you'd begrudgingly agreed. It was how they found out you were an avid Chicago Bulls fan (Moonbin), allergic to lemons and oranges (Sanha), loved all colors too much to pick a favorite (Felix, though he'd called you a hack for not choosing one), listened to mainly R&B (Hyunjin), and, finally, that you were single (to the smug, pleased grin of one Lee Donghyuck).

After your playful bunch get rotated out, you receive ‘The Flirts’. Choi Beomgyu, who you learn wears his emotions on his sleeve… also apparently says them outright because not even five minutes in he verbally declares his love for you. His reaction to your slack-jawed stare is a sly smile, and a shrugged ‘What? I just wanted to be the first.’

Choi Soobin bickers with him, Kang Taehyun, and Choi Yeonjun for the rest of the session on who has the better chance of winning your heart, even though you’re literally right there.

The last group you get are the quiet ones. You don’t even have to nickname them because they’re simply that easy.

Jung Sungchan is here, who utters not a word to anyone except to shyly tell you your shoe is untied at the 25 minute mark. There’s Huang Renjun, who you’re sure is some other sort of demon on the court because he’s naturally very angry looking and positively tiny, and from experience you’ve learned to recognize the type.

Park Sunghoon is here too, who you actually have to beg to do the conditioning (he gives in once you weaponize your pout though, so you know he has a heart somewhere under those long legs of his), and finally, your introspective friend comes along too. 01.

Lee Jeno merely nods when he approaches, sweaty and heavy footed, and drops into his conditioning before you even need to bug him about it.

“Don’t push too hard, kid,” you mumble to Jeno when he just blows past the fifty calf lifts with no intention of stopping. “You’ve got a game next week, remember? Sore legs last forever.”

He slows to a stop, eyeing you silently before pressing his back flat against the wall to sink into a wall-sit.

“We’re the same age, you know.”

“We are?”

He only nods. He’s still looking at you, though, so you take that as an invitation to keep the conversation going.

“You look young. What’s your major, 01?”

“Audio engineering.”

You raise an eyebrow, and his gaze slides from you to something behind your head— probably the clock to see how long he has left. Once he’s not boring two holes in your face, you find yourself finally able to get a good look at him from closer than an entire basketball court away.

Maybe you hadn’t noticed it when he’d almost scared you to death earlier, but now that he was here in front of you, it was actually almost ridiculous how statuesque the guy was. Short, neatly cut, ink black hair. A jawline that could probably shatter stone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a mouth like his either, bow-shaped lips that naturally curled up at the edges even when the boy was completely straight faced like he was right now— and a strong, straight nose right above it.

Dark eyes that eventually found yours as you stood there and oogled him monitored his wall sit.

“You play any instruments?” you continue curiously.

“Three.”

“Cool. Which ones?”

“Guitar, piano and bass.”

You could definitely see guitar and bass, but piano? You wouldn't peg him for a sonata-type.

“Do you?” he adds.

“Do I what? Play any instruments?”

He nods and you shrug. “Played drums in my high school pep band, but I was pretty terrible at it.”

“You were a band kid?”

“Yep. And an emo one at that. Just imagine me but in all black and all tired looking, with bleached, spiked hair. I looked insane.”

He gives you a look. “So now, without the bleach?”

What. Jeno’s face cracks into a big, adorable lopsided grin when your eyes go wide— and you almost reach over to swat him before you remember that 1. you’ve known him for like two hours, and 2. You are currently kind of his coach and that’s a little weird. So you settle with gasping scandalously and kicking the side of his sneaker with your own.

“I’m kidding, by the way,” he says a moment later when he eases down out of the wall-sit. “I mean… I bet you looked pretty cool. Carrying a guitar case on campus makes me look like a douche. Drumsticks would be so much easier.”

“I always assumed people who lugged guitars around were usually super-assholes or the coolest folk around. You don’t seem like the first type.”

You’re not looking at him as you say it, you’re picking at your nails, but the steadiness of his stare tells you he’s watching you anyway.

He sure is rather bold about the staring, you think. Even when you look up he doesn’t waver.

“Are you coming to the barbeque tonight?”

It’s obvious the question catches you off guard by the way your eyebrows jump.

“It’s tradition to get BBQ on the first day of practice,“ he elaborates. "It’s not a school event, so it’s not mandatory or anything. Just a thing the team does every season. Are you coming?”

“Ah…That’s just for team members, isn’t it?”

“You’re our coach now though.”

Oh. “Okay… well, assistant coach, firstly, and I don’t know if I’d go that far—”

“You have to come!” a voice behind you shouts suddenly, and the startled sound you make is nearly inhuman. Donghyuck is there when you turn, your apparent new shadow, looking chipper and happy and completely undeterred by the sea of sweat running down his face. He plucks up the water bottle at your feet without a word and you don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s yours, not Jeno’s like you’re assuming he thinks it is, when he downs the whole thing in one go.

“No-Jam is right, you’re one of us now. Us wolves stick together. How are we gonna get to synergize with you or whatever if you don’t come and hang out with us…?”

“I mean…”

Man. Well. There’s nothing wrong with going, you suppose, but it feels a little overwhelming to be invited so easily. Ah, what are you doing? Isn’t this a good thing? You’re being invited out! Sure, the Gamdogja Timberwolves aren’t the exact type of friends you’d been intending to make today, but hell. It wasn’t like you knew anybody else yet.

And, even if most of your Yonsei friends thought they were all just stuck-up, arrogant private college kids— they’d been pretty damn nice to you so far.

“…Yeah. Yeah, okay sure. I’ll come. Where is this fabled BBQ place?”

Donghyuck whoops. Before he can answer, Coaches whistle blows from the court again, and a sea of groans and sneaker squeaking and bumbling bodies fills the air.

“Nevermind,” you laugh. “Off to the court with you two. Go. I’ll find you later.”

“Promise?” Donghyuck coos.

“Yes, Hyuck-ah, I promise. Begone.”

“Since you said it so sweetly~”

What a ham. You’re grinning as they leave though, oddly chipper, and wander over to where your father is standing when the rest of the boys reach the court. He hands you another clipboard when you get to him, 8 names listed next to a spreadsheet of sorts. He quickly goes over the plan for the last hour: splitting the team between your hoop and for 4v4s.

“How was the conditioning, by the way?” Coach asks. “I saw you got Sunghoon to do the wall sit. You’re performing miracles already.”

“Not many can say no to this face and live to tell the tale.”

He makes a knowing grunt of agreement and your groups separate. You’ve got Jeno, Donghyuck, Soobin and Yukhei, Yeonjun, Renjun, Sanha, and Sungchan in your half of the gym.

“What do you say we try a five minute scramble first, huh? First to 21 just to get the blood pumping?”

“My blood is already pumping,” Yukhei whines at you, bent over, hands on his knees. “What it needs to do is stop pumping. Be nice to me.”

“If your blood wasn’t pumping you’d be dead,” Sungchan says.

“So?”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes so hard that for a moment, you’re scared they won’t come back.

“Just get the damn basketball, pumper.”

Once they get into the groove, bickering and bantering and teasing fading into position call-outs and good-natured ribbing, you finally get your first glimpse at the true Timberwolf potential. And they’re all good. You come into this having no doubt about that, honestly.

Their technique is great, passing between each other with barely a second between one person and the next, the perfect balance of defense, offense, and speed. Even baby Sungchan, who you’d been sure was one of the tamer of the bunch, is throwing clutches and between-the-legs like it’s nothing.

They’re all ridiculously good.

But once Jeno gets to that ball, it’s like no one else is in the room.

You watch almost in a trance as he just… goes through people. He’s like a mirage when he gets the ball, and he gets the ball often— his teammates lobbing it to him at a milliseconds notice, to where he always just seems to be perpetually ready— and it’s like magic. He has the basketball for a moment, then he doesn’t, then it’s in the net and a bunch of people either groan or cheer and the game goes on.

With Jeno doing what he’s doing, his team gets to 21 points in about five minutes flat. Holy shit.

You send them off for a three minute break and try not to look appalled.

“Yeah,” someone says beside you, and you blink yourself out of your stupor.

Donghyuck is standing next to you looking smug. For what, you have no clue, until he juts his chin in the direction you were just staring as a hint— and you catch an eyeful of Jeno guzzling a water bottle down on the opposite sideline with a few of the other guys when you follow his gaze.

“He’s a monster, right? Injun and I think he used to eat basketballs when he was younger.”

You’re still too stunned to even laugh. “I mean all of you were… wow. For lack of a cooler phrase. You’re really goddamn good. I’m impressed.”

“Better than your Yonsei folk?”

This instantly gets you to break your reverie and Donghyuck howls with laughter at the sour face you pull. You're already so comfortable with this crew that you don't think twice before shoving him away from the sidelines with your elbow.

“Yeah alright, Hyuck. Way to ruin it for your buddies. Break over! Set up for lay-up drills!”

A chorus of groans meets you and you simply nod, accepting your whining and bereavement easily from your half of the squad as they shuttle back onto the court. You don’t notice the lack of one particular voice in the mix at first, the matching sharp black eyes watching you silently from the other end of the baseline— but by the time you glance in his direction, feeling the heat of someone’s gaze on your back, Jeno’s already looking away.

The rest of practice goes by pretty quickly after that and with the lot of them cracking jokes with you and actually listening to your advice and obsservations, it's actually pretty fun.

Maybe... Maybe this whole coaching thing wouldn't as dreadful as you'd presumed after all.

[itwd masterlist] [next part]

[dreamsnails]

As promised, the Sal iteration of Chapter 2! If you want to read the Larry part, that is also posted and available (https://dreamsnails.tumblr.com/post/678850176823197696/hey-guys-im-so-sorry-it-took-so-long-but-here). Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff! It means a lot to me; I love writing it and it makes me happy that other people like reading it. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

  The soft droning of my alarm clock alerted my eyes into motion, swinging open at full speed. I shot up, sweat dripping down my back. A shadowed hand slithered from on my bed beside my left thigh and down the sheets, causing me to shriek and pull them up to my chest. I watched it slide underneath my bed. Heaving breaths wracked my chest as I shuffled as far to the wall as I could. 

    Click! The lights were on now, and I shot my head towards the door, staring with frightful, wide eyes, a deer in the headlights until my eyes were able to adjust. 

    “Honey, my goodness!” It was mom. My chest rose and fell, a rhythmic pattern, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as I tried my best to process what had just gone down. She approached cautiously, touching the bed for a brief moment before swiftly pulling her hand back, holding it in the air. “Your bed…it’s soaked dear…” 

    She eyed me up and down. I grabbed a hold of my knees, pulling them close to my chest. I focused straight ahead. 

    “Let me get the thermometer.”

    “No,” I blurted. She stared at me, and I shook my head, continuing. “I… I just had a really really bad dream. I’m fine…” 

    “Are you sure?” She brushed some hair behind my ear. 

    “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’ll be out in a moment.” 

    As soon as my bedroom door was shut and mom was out of sight, I sprang out of my bed, immediately crouching on my knees to examine underneath it. 

    Nothing.

    It was barren under there, only a stray, crumpled paper on the floor from my sketchbook. I reached my arm under, snatching the garbage and tossing it into the bin at the foot of my bed. 

    A shower, I thought. That will calm me down. 

    I reached into my drawers, pulling out underwear, a fresh pair of ripped jeans, and a black t-shirt. My towel sat on top of my dresser, and that was added to the stack in my arms as well. My fingers fumbled with the doorknob, shaking with excitement from the moments prior, and I stepped into the hall. 

    The warm water soothed me as it swept in sheets down my soiled body, carrying away the sweat and fear. I sighed, dropping my shoulders. What in the hell was in my room? Was that the thing that touched me in the hallway yesterday? I grabbed my loofa, squirting a generous amount of soap into it. I let the rough surface glide over my body, remembering a story dad had told me before. When he was young, and he and mom had just moved in together, they spent a lot of time watching horror movies and cheap flicks. One night, he went to bed early, leaving mom to read on the couch in their living room. He suddenly woke up, frozen in fear as he watched an unfamiliar face and hand of an unknown creature slip behind their bedroom door, closing it behind them, as if it had been in their room and was now sneaking into the hallway, watching him as it did so. He screamed for mom, and they searched the whole house for the monster, but it later turned out he had just experienced his first case of sleep paralysis. 

    I turned the shower knob, the water ceasing. Perhaps that was what I had just encountered. Sleep paralysis. 

    I didn’t think about it too much more as I slipped my clothes on and went to the kitchen for breakfast. I poured my bowl of cereal, trying to ignore my parents whispering in the living room. Sticking a spoonful of Reese’s Puffs into my mouth, I muttered “Guys, I’m fine. It was just a dream.” 

    “If you’re sure, champ.” Dad replied, grabbing yesterday’s newspaper off of the side table and propping his feet on the coffee table. Mom scoffed at him, annoyed that he wasn’t as concerned as she was. She stood from her spot on our couch and walked over to me, who was leaning against the wall in the dining room, and placed her hands on my shoulders. “I’m eating my cereal,” I remarked, muffled, mouth full once again. Mom sighed, rolling her eyes. 

    “I just want to make extra sure.”

    “Mom,” I warned. 

    She hugged me, and I stood there, trying to make sure I didn’t lose my cereal onto the floor. “I love you,” she said. 

    I sighed, smiling. “I love you too, mom. But I’m not a baby anymore.” 

    “You’re always going to be my baby,” She fussed, squeezing me and rocking us back and forth. 

    “Mom!” I chuckled. "My puffs, man!" She let go of me, smiling back, before walking back into the living room to sit next to dad. “Wash your bowl before going to school!” 

    “I know ma!” 

    Before no time, I found myself in the same position as yesterday. Bag slung over my shoulder, hand nervously twisting the doorknob as I thought about the events of this morning and yesterday morning. I told myself over and over that ghosts aren’t real, and that nothing is after me, but that sinking feeling stayed inside of me as I shut the front door and stood alone in the hall. My mind buffered, trying to get myself to the elevator, to get myself to school, but I was too shaken. I made a dash for 402, praying that he was still there. 

My fist rapped at the door. It was answered by a man who looked to be in his mid 40s, his hair blue, just like Sal’s. He looked tired, or possibly angry? I forced myself to smile, intimidated by his presence, and hoping he couldn't tell. “Uh, is Sal still here? I think we're supposed to walk to school together today.”  

    A warm smile replaced his tired features. “Oh, you must be Sal’s new friend! He mentioned you might stop by.” He extended a hand, which I shook. “I’m Henry Fisher, Sal’s dad. It’s nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” My cheeks felt warm. He told his dad my name? I knew it wasn’t anything special, but it felt that way to me, like he was proud to be my friend. None of my old friends ever talked about me to their parents, as far as I knew. Then again, I was never invited to stop by their houses to know.

Sal appeared next to him at the door, sliding past him to stand in the hall next to me. “See you when you get home from work, dad.” He said, adjusting his posture. 

“See ya, Sal. You guys have a good day at school!” 

He shut the door as Sal and I walked towards the elevator. I contemplated telling Sal about my dream and what had happened in the hall yesterday morning. Shuddering at the thought, I pushed it back, standing in silence as we waited for the door to slide open. My hands muddled together, toying with one another.

“Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” 

    The sound of Sal’s voice snapped me out of my void state. I looked straight ahead.

    “Sal, do you think this place could possibly be haunted?” 

    He paused, thinking. “Well, I think that this building is old, and I think that there is a lot that we don’t know about its past. Why? Did something happen?”

I cracked, now fully animated, spilling everything about the last couple days. “Yesterday morning I was waiting for the elevator and someone touched my back, like ran their hand on my back, or I thought someone did, and it surprised me so I turned around really fast but nobody was even there, and then this morning I had a really bad dream and I woke up and thought I saw someone move their hand down my bed but after I checked my room I realized nobody was there, and this place just felt off from the start, like, when we had our walkthrough of the place, but mom and dad don’t even care and it’s gonna drive me insane, and I think mom thinks there’s like, something wrong with me now because she was whispering to dad this morning about something but it. Isn’t. Me. It’s this creepy ass apartment complex! And they don’t even feel it!”

Sal stared at me. I huffed, hands rubbing my tired eyes. The elevator door slid open, and we stepped out onto the first floor. 

"(Y/N), I-"

"Yooo! Hey guys!" Larry's wide smile greeted us, and he began striding in our direction. 

"I'll talk about it with you later, promise." Sal dismissed, greeting Larry with a crisp high five and a punch in the shoulder.  

"Woah, (Y/N), you look like shit." Larry teased, ruffling my hair. I raised my arms up protectively. 

"Hey! That's not very nice!" I laughed. "I slept like shit." 

"Oh no wonder then." His hands found their way into his pockets. The genuine smile he gave me was contagious, and I soon found myself forgetting my misfortune in his presence once again. 

"So, hey, I was thinking maybe Friday we could all hang out at my place after school. Ashley and Todd, too," Larry started, trying to pass the time. Sal nodded. 

"Yeah, sounds like fun. Do you want me to bring anything?" 

"Dude, if you could get those, like, dino chicken nugget thingies, like the frozen ones you bake in the oven, I would literally make out with you on the spot." Larry wiggled his eyebrows. 

Sal turned his head, looking forward again. "Okay, I am definitely bringing nothing now." I could hear the banter in his voice. 

"Aww, come on, man! Okay what about just a little kiss on the cheek?" 

"Alright, fine," said Sal. He raised his index finger. "But only one." 

"Should I bring something too?" I asked. What could I even bring? Microwave popcorn? My parents typically didn't have lots of snacks lying around at home. Mom loved to cook, and if I wanted a snack, she'd always make me have an apple or drink some water so I would be hungry enough for her elaborate dinners. 

"No, don't worry about that," Larry waved me off, then nudged my arm playfully. "Just bring yourself, you’re good enough on your own.” 

The half-lidded look he gave me, that coy smirk… was he flirting with me? Before I could try to weigh the possibility– 

“HEY!” 

Thud!

“Ouch, damn dude!” 

Laughter from the two of them. 

“So if I have to bring chicken nuggets, then that must mean that I’m not good enough on my own, right?” Sal teased. 

“Hm… Nope! Guess not,” Larry shrugged, eyes closed. Another couple blows landed on his arm and side. Watching them kind of reminded me of a toddler trying to beat up a much older brother. 

“Fine, fine!” Larry finally gave in. “You’re good enough, chicken nuggets or not.” 

The school came into view, a flood of colors entering and lingering outside. I made it a point to take in the fresh air before entering the dull building. I would be stuck inside for the next large portion of my day. A small tug of anxiety pulled at my chest. Against my will, my mind corrected me. I would be stuck inside alone for the next large portion of my day, ostracized from my only two friends here. Last hour couldn’t come soon enough. 

A cool voice pulled me out of my thoughts. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” 

It was Sal, always the one to notice and always the one to speak up. We stepped into the building, and he looked at me expectantly. I took a deep breath, and put on a smile. I wanted to be honest with him.

“A lot has been bothering me this morning, there has just been so much going through my mind already, and I don’t really know if I am okay.” 

Is what I wanted to say. Instead…

“Y-yeah!” I blurted. “Of course! I’ll meet you after school.” 

He was silent for just a moment. Could he see through me? No shit, I thought. I was a mumbling fumbling mess. “Alright, see you after school!” was all he said in return. 

We turned our separate ways, my face dropping with my stomach as soon as the boys were out of view. I was a zombie, blurs of other teens rushing past in my peripherals as I made my way to my locker. The cold steel of the lock almost burned as I turned the dial. Right… left… right… 

Click. 

The lock popped open effortlessly. I grabbed my materials, taking note of my classroom number, and then shut the door, putting the lock back into its rightful spot. 

~*~

“(Y/N)!” Two hands slapped down hard on my desk, causing me to jump, my pencil swerving and pressing hard into the page. My head shot up to face my aggressor. 

“The bell rang– hey, is that Sal?” He grabbed for my sketchbook. 

“Hey!” I cried in protest, reaching for it, but I was ultimately too late. It was now in his possession, and his eyes studied the page. 

“Wow,” he huffed. “You’re pretty impressive.”

    “Thank you.” I swiped for the book, but he was faster, and it was now held above his head. 

“Larry!” I stamped my right foot, pouting like a child. “Give it back!” I received a low chuckle, and his arm swept behind him to hide the book behind his back. 

“Why do you want it back so badly?” He teased. 

“Because it’s mine!” I whined, stamping again. I made a poor attempt to reach around him for it. A step back was enough to keep me away. 

“(Y/N) has a crush on Sally~” he sang. My face went bright red. I was absolutely mortified. 

“I do not!” I stammered, crossing my arms over my chest and averting my eyes.

“Oh you totally fucking do!” 

“I don’t!”

“You do! Your face went all red!” 

“Larry!” 

He held my book out towards me. I snatched it, turning my nose up at him in annoyance.

“Aw don’t be like that,” he said. “I won’t tell anyone.”

    “Promise me.” My voice was venomous. “And promise not to talk about it anymore!” He put his hands up defensively. 

“I promise. Now let’s go find your boyfriend so we can walk home.” 

I landed a solid punch on his arm. 

“Ow! Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’ll stop!” He was smiling, but I definitely wasn’t. We finally made our way out of the classroom in silence, and into the hallway, which was remarkably still quite full of other students, despite the time we had spent after the final bell still in the classroom.

I didn’t say a word to Larry as he escorted me to my locker, and then over to his and Sal’s. I didn’t really care about his increasingly more worried expression either. The only thing I really cared to say about it was “Yeah, everything is fine!” when Sal asked if we were alright. 

    We walked home in heavy silence. I didn’t really care to interact with Larry, and Larry was too full of nervous tension to say anything to anyone. I could tell Sally knew something had happened. He kept looking over at one of us at a time, trying to say something, then deciding to keep it to himself. By the time we made it back to the apartments, I was too exhausted to care anymore. We stood in the lobby, the silence growing.

    “I’m gonna go back home, guys.” Sal eventually made out some words. He pressed the call button on the elevator. I made my way to his side, stepping towards him and away from Larry, who looked desperately like he wanted to say something. Yet he didn't. “I’ll go with you.”

    As soon as the doors opened, I stepped inside. Sal followed suit, apologizing to Larry, before entering our floor into the panel. The doors slid shut. 

    “I got in a fight with Larry,” I blurted. “He took my sketchbook without permission and teased me for something I drew, and it was kind of personal. I don’t think he meant anything by it, but it really hurt me.” 

    Sal stood still for a moment, carefully choosing what to say. “He takes it a little far sometimes, but Larry isn’t the kind of person to purposely hurt someone.” 

    “I know, it's just, urgh!” I screamed into my hands. “I know he didn’t mean to…” 

    “He, uh,” Sal fidgeted with his hands. “I know how he feels about you, (Y/N). I know he didn’t want to hurt you. He probably feels bad about it.” 

    I sighed. “I should probably apologize, shouldn’t I?” 

    The doors opened on our floor, and we stepped out into the hall. 

    “That’s up to you. If you feel an apology is in order, then apologize. I think that even if you don’t apologize, it’s important that you at least tell him how it made you feel and make up with him, for the sake of you both.” 

    I straightened up. 

    “Sal?” 

    “Yeah?”

    “I don’t really want to be alone right now. Can I stay with you a little longer?” 

    Sal seemed taken aback by my quick attempt to stick around. He didn’t say anything for a second, only muttering, “I, uh,” before eventually giving his answer. “Sure, um, that’s fine.” 

    Sal unlocked the door to his apartment. The lights were switched off. I could hear the quiet hum of the TV, the only bit of movement coming from the screen. Sal hit the switch, and light flooded the room. A clean home, identical to my own. He shut the door, placing his bag on the floor next to it, and I did the same.

    “So, uh… want something to drink?” Sal asked. I shook my head. 

    “That’s alright. Uh, follow me, I guess.” He began walking. “This way, to my room.” 

    I obeyed, following close behind him. We passed the TV, and behind the back rest of the couch hid a large cat, lying on the seat, seemingly watching the channel it was set to. Sal greeted him, receiving a disgruntled mewl in return. He opened his bedroom door, motioning for me to go inside where he joined me. The room was rather tidy; everything seemed to have an orderly place. The bed was made, the sheets pulled tight up to the headboard, his pillow fluffed neatly on top. An electric guitar sat beside a dresser, which itself was entirely cleared off except for a few bottles of medication. Hell, even the few posters on the wall were lined up neatly, as if he had taken a ruler to them to calculate the exact distance they needed to be evenly spaced. 

    Sal sat on the bed, patting the spot next to him, and I made myself at home. His feet kicked rythmically at the bed frame. He looked around his room, pretending not to be as uncomfortable as he obviously was, or at least seemed to be. I began to feel guilty, knowing very well that it was my idea to hang out, not his. He probably just felt bad saying no. I already berated him with what happened between Larry and I, and let alone what I had told him this morning… 

“(Y/N)?” Sal’s voice. 

“Yeah?”

“You okay? You’re uh…” 

I lifted my hand to my cheek and touched it gingerly. 

Wet.

“You’re crying.” He said. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” I felt frantic, frazzled, embarrassed. Every little bit of the day: the dream I had, being alone all day, getting into it with Larry, and now practically forcing myself into Sal’s home, causing problems for him, even if he did say yes; I just wanted to disappear, disassimilate into the void.

“You must be pretty stressed out about everything. Here, let me get you some water.” 

Before I could even protest, he was up and out of the room. I could hear the kitchen sink running. I just looked down at my hands, folded in my lap, wondering what he must think of me. All I’ve done so far is complain to him, and all he’s done is been nothing but kind and supportive towards me. My breath shook. 

Sal returned with the glass of water. I sipped at it, looking straight ahead. 

I felt the bed shift as Sal sat back down. After a long silence, he finally spoke. 

“I’m not really sure how much you’ll enjoy hanging out with me,” he said. “And I never know what to do unless I can plan it out, at least when it comes to friendships. Larry and Ash are both artistic, like you. But I’m not. Larry is charismatic, he loves to joke around. Even if someone doesn’t have much in common with him, he seems to be able to talk to people easily. I’m not, and I can’t, or else we'd be having a hell of a lot more fun than this.” Sal’s hands played with each other once again. I touched his arm gently, and he turned to look at me through the slits of his mask. "I can't help but feel terrible, knowing I can't keep you good company like a normal goddamn person. You know? Even though you need me, I can't."  

I threw out what I was feeling, and tried to forget the embarrassment and the problems I had made up for myself. The more he spoke, the more his voice shook. I didn’t know him very well, but I knew well enough that he had a lot of pressure built up inside of him. 

“I think you’re pretty stressed out, too…” I smiled at him. 

“Yeah, I guess…” 

“So please, continue.” I urged. “I want to listen. I bitched to you all day, so it's your turn to be able to just talk about what's bothering you. You deserve it, Sal. You're always helping me, and everyone else, too.”

    Sal sighed. He paused for a moment, but he gave in. 

“Everyone I know seems to have something. Todd is this super genius. Ashley? She’s, well, beautiful. She’s kind and she’s smart and she’s hardworking. She’s also really creative and talented. Larry is funny and artistic and tall.” He stared at his feet, kicking at the bed frame once again. “I’m just… there. I’m not funny. I’m not tall. I’m not super smart or creative and fuck if I could ever be considered beautiful. The only thing I think I’m really good at is solving peoples problems, giving advice and guidance. Other than that, there isn’t anything really special about me. So I don’t understand why you or anyone else is so adamant about hanging around me, and it’s just so frustrating.” 

“Sal,” I started. But I couldn’t grasp the words I wanted to say right away. 

“I know, I’m being stupid. My therapist tells me I shouldn’t compare myself to others, because I’m not them, and I can’t control other people around me, and I have my own things that make me special. But what are those things? Why can’t I be different than what I am? Why am I even telling you this? Am I weak?”

    He laid his dark sockets in his palms, his blue pig tails sweeping over his masked face. Another sigh escaped his chest. 

“Sal, I don’t know who put it in your head that you aren’t special, but I don’t know anyone kinder to me than you. And I’ve only known you for like, two days. I’ve never felt more comfortable around anyone in my life. You’ve been one of the only people in this world to ever check up on me. And I think that’s why everyone loves being around you so much, because you make everyone feel loved and accepted. You treat everyone with kindness and respect. Look at all of the nice things you just told me about your friends! You clearly think highly of them.”

    Sal said nothing, so I continued. 

“Look, I don’t know much about you. You didn’t tell me anything about yourself, because you were more worried about me. But you know something?” I paused. “I’d like to. I’d like to know more about you, because I think you're amazing." And beautiful, but I wasn't about to say that and make things weird. "So, why don’t you tell me about you? Just simple things. Easy things.” 

Sal exhaled and lifted his head. He spoke slowly, pondering himself.

“Well, I moved here a few years ago, just like you. I like to play guitar and I like to sing. I love music, and I always have, but Larry got me into metal and rock and it’s my favorite thing to listen to. I like the feeling I get when I make someone smile. I’m a guy but I like wearing dresses sometimes and I think that’s okay. I actually have a few in my dresser and if you ever needed one I would lend one to you. I have a cat named Gizmo. I don’t like bologna, and I don’t want to talk about it, and I think you should bring your own lunches to school by the way. Sometimes I sneak into Larry’s room when he’s not home and I play his video games. And I feel bad for Travis even though he’s always an absolute dickhole to me and my friends, mainly because I know he’s not as tough and perfect as he pretends to think he is.” He stopped and shrugged, now looking at me. “I think that’s about all I can think of to say right now.” 

I couldn’t help but smile at him. He really is just a massive softy, and so completely adorable. 

“What?” He asked, a little bit of nerves escaping through his tone.

“Nothing, I just think you’re really cool, Sal.” I said. “You’re definitely way more special than you think.”

We sat in silence yet again, the tension now dissipated. The air felt lighter, and this silence felt softer, despite our conversation still being awkward. Overall, I just felt closer to him, like we were better than before. 

“You know, I wish I could see your expressions sometimes.” The sentence came out of nowhere, breaking our comfort. “Sometimes I imagine you underneath your mask, wondering what you look like when you smile, or the expressions you make when you and Larry joke around.” 

“You don’t want to see what’s underneath, trust me. I'll never show you, either.” Sal’s voice was like stone. I didn’t quite expect him to snap at me like that. “It isn’t pretty. If I didn’t have to wear this prosthetic face, I wouldn’t.”

    Prosthetic. I guess it made sense, and I had kind of already put two and two together yesterday. The school wouldn’t allow a kid to wander around wearing a mask for no reason, after all. I tried to pick my next words carefully. 

“I’m sorry… I guess I didn’t think about that.”

    “No, I'm sorry. I just get stressed out about it and,” he huffed. “ I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sorry.” 

“It makes me happy when I see you happy. I guess that’s kind of what I meant. And I guess it makes me happier when I imagine you looking happy even underneath your prothstetic.” 

"Thank you, it means a lot." He sat quietly. I wished to myself that I could see his expression, so I knew what was going on in his head. 

“You know, Larry is the only person who ever tells me he worries about me. I never have these kinds of conversations with anyone but him. You remind me a lot of him, and it’s kind of nice knowing that it’s more than just him out there that’ll let me just… talk sometimes. And also care about me, you know? On a deeper level.” I felt my cheeks begin to glow. He gave me a playful shove, just knocking me enough to rock to the side gently and back up into my sitting position. The contact made my heart jump. “We should hang out more often, (Y/N).”

    I pretended I could see him under his mask, smiling at me, my heart beating even faster and my face certainly heating up more than I wanted to reveal. His words left me soaring, even if they were rather ordinary.

“Oh!” he said out of nowhere, ending our terribly awkward exchange. "I've got some board games and stuff. Wanna play something?" 

"Aw, man!" I chuckled. "Do you have Sorry? I friggin' love that game." 

"Hell yeah I do." 

[eunkimmie]

hi! I really liked your sal friends with benefits headcannons and I was wondering if you could do one for larry? :)

larry didn’t think of sex as something that was sacred or that had to be cherished, he just thought of it as a desire. if two people wanted to fuck, so be it. larry thought of himself as a relatively emotional person, even if he didn’t show it all the time. he also knew he wasn’t the worst looking guy out there, he definitely fit into a “type” though. with the long hair occasionally pulled up into a messy bun, the oversized and overworn shirts, loose fitting pants that pooled around his beat up converse with doodles all on the fabric. his tanned skin was even, save for a few patches of acne and some body hair. point is, larry was an attractive guy.

now, there weren’t a whole lot of people in Nockfell that were falling on their knees for him, especially since they knew him as a weird kid in high school, but y’know. tinder was a thing. sometimes he just wanted to chat, or sometimes he did use the app for hookups.

wasn’t much, really. he’d bring someone to his shared house, fuck, then he’d let them choose whether they wanted to stay or leave for the night. maybe if he took a shine to them, offer some weed and cook some shitty eggs for them in the morning.

one day, he matched with you. cute, interesting. and by the way you chatted with him, you didn’t seem too interested in a relationship at the moment either. he invited you over after talking for a day or two, and that was that. you stayed the night, waking to an offer of coffee, maybe some cereal? you agreed, and the two of you sat downstairs laughing. larry was an easy guy to chat with, and almost everyone found that they got comfortable with him and his laid-back nature relatively quickly.

“and what kind of move was that?” you snickered, moving the spoon around in your cereal bowl idly. “i mean, if you’re gonna throw someone on your bed, at least make sure you aim correctly.” he tilted his head back as he let out a boisterous laugh, fist slamming down on the table. “fuck, don’t bring that shit up! sorry for being eager.” the two of you joked like that before you decided it was well time to go home.

after that, larry gradually stopped hooking up with random strangers, and instead turning to you. the both of you were well aware of the relationship and had no issue. but, eventually, the two of you learned that, hey, you actually had some common interests. after a session, you say up in his bed and tried to fix your hair to the best of your abilities after being fucked senseless. “you have a switch?”

“is that a sex question?” he asked, and received a pillow to the chest. “yes, you wanna play something?” you shrugged, pulling a shirt over your chest. he rattled off some names of the co-op games he had, and the two of you had settled on mario kart, cliche as it may be. and of course you beat ass. larry wasn’t a sore loser, instead offering you a lazy smile every time you told him to “eat shit you fucking second place”

larry didn’t question it much, but eventually the two of you became friends. it was bound to happen, your chemistry was more than just sexual, and he was sure that if the two of you had met in person before tinder, you would’ve been friends as well. was it so bad that his fuck-buddy was coming over midday now to play games or watch movies? larry decided that it may be better not to question it. besides, the two of you had a good dynamic going here.

but here’s the thing—when two people spend that much time together in the day and are having sex at night, at least one of them is bound to grow feelings. larry would run his calloused hands up your waist, grasping for as much of you as he could get as his mouth placed sporadic kisses all down your neck. the way your voice sounded as you let out small whimpers made his heart beat faster and faster, but the best noise was when he was fucking you at such a fast pace that had your hands gripping tightly at the sheets, before suddenly he’d stop. he’d watch as you cried out and desperately tried to create some movement between the two of you, and larry would tilt your chin up and give you a lingering kiss, staring down at your tear-filled eyes before he’d finally move again.

every time you two had sex, he would pour all of his affection and feeling into it. he didn’t want to fuck up your friendship, so instead all of his pent up emotion would turn into multiple rounds of sex, sometimes rough, sometimes passionate. he didn’t think he would ever confess, he knew he couldn’t. it would be best to just ignore it, right? right.

so, he never did. he never uttered a word to anyone, not even his friends, about the feelings he harbored for you. and when he asked if you wanted to stay the night, his heart would leap as you nodded and cuddled up to him in bed. and how he felt such a surge of disappointment rush through him when you decided it was time to get going, and left. he fantasized about grabbing you by the arm, stopping you from leaving, and proclaiming that he did have feelings for you, that you were so much more than just a person to hookup with at night. that he wanted a real relationship with you, that he wanted you to stay with him and wake up to him every day, and how much it killed him to open his eyes first thing in the morning and not see your face, and that…

fuck. was he in love with you? was it more than just a crush? it didn’t matter, you didn’t want a relationship, and that was that. larry wasn’t going to push your boundaries, it wasn’t your fault that he had to go and develop feelings for someone he was just supposed to be having sex with. he was in love with you, and the thought made him embarrassed. he’d stay up at night thinking about how quick you’d be to reject him if he ever did confess. the thought of you reciprocating his feelings wasn’t even a possibility in his mind.

you bit your lip as you knocked on the front door to his house. it was strange. you were always attracted to him, of course, but lately you’d been having…thoughts. you spent so much time in his house, his room, that an image of you staying there, with him, had briefly crossed your mind the other night. how would it feel to wake up in his arms every day as the sun peeked through the curtains? to be able to walk over to your shared closet before tossing on some clothes and walking to the kitchen and make breakfast for him? you wondered if he’d help, if maybe he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before kissing you softly. “the eggs might burn,” you’d say, but he would turn the burner off and kiss you anyways. how he’d lift you up on the counter and run his hands gently down your sides and plant soft kisses to your lips.

your fantasy stopped right there as he opened up the door, greeting you with a lazy smile. his hair was up this night, small strands falling from the bun he had loosely tied together. and then, the two of you were in his room. but it felt different somehow. maybe it was your imagination.

he closed the door behind him, pressing you up against the wood after it locked with a small click. his hands worked your shirt, pulling it off before tossing it aside. he ran his hand down the side of your thigh, your legs wrapped around him as he supported your body with ease. your hands had cupped his cheeks as you kissed him, his breath shaky as he pulled back for air for only a second.

you didn’t go home that night. you stayed, waking up to larry’s arms draped lazily over your body as your back curved against his chest like a perfect puzzle piece. you turned over, slowly as possible as to make little movement. now, you were face to face with him, his eyes still closed and lips parted slightly. you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair from his face and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. you mumbled out a strained, “fuck,” before you decided that maybe it was better to go back to sleep.

he acted like he was asleep. cheap move, he knew that, but when he felt your fingers softly brush his hair aside, his heart practically jumped out of his chest. he laid there as you kissed him once, and he swore that if you put a hand to his chest you would be able to feel just how fast his heartbeat was going.

for weeks, the two of you unconsciously pined over one another, both of you too afraid to say anything. you continued as you were, meeting up for either video games or sex.

his room was dark, dimly illuminated by his LED lights, your body reflecting a slight sheen of blue as the lights hit your skin perfectly. his hands grasped at your hips, his back against the wall behind his bed as you bounced yourself up and down on his cock, face to face. he supported your movements with his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed. you were so fucking tight around him, and your bodies seemed to come together perfectly, like it was meant to be. the way your lips were parted as you moaned his name, and how you almost screamed when he met your movement by thrusting upwards, and how he had to cover your mouth with his hand as to not disturb his roommates. he had moved you to lay on your back now, his body hovering above yours as he fucked you into his mattress. your hands intertwined above your head, and you could fe that all familiar feeling of a bubble about to burst in your stomach.

“f-fuck..fuck! im so, i’m so fucking—“ your sentences weren’t even coherent as he fucked you rhythmically. your back arched, letting him hit an even deeper spot inside of you that made you cry out his name. you removed your hand from his, moving up to cup his cheeks as you stared into his eyes. “fuck..don’t stop. please, don’t stop.”

“fuck…” larry groaned back. he was close, and the way you looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered right then and there just drew him closer. it was all too much. the way you cried out his name and pulled him into kiss you. it just came out. he mumbled, “fuck…i love you,” and the way immediately after that you pulled him in for another kiss sent him over the edge. you could feel his cum drip out as he pulled himself out of you. you laid on his bed, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. he uttered that he was going to get you a towel to clean up with after he pulled on some sweatpants.

as you laid there, now partially clothed but still sweaty, you thought about it. you thought about what he had said to you, and how the words alone were enough to make you come undone. your face burned as you thought about it.

larry could really just kill himself. he was so fucking stupid. he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, fist clenched so tightly that his skin turned paler. he was going to act as if it never happened. it was for the best. it was always for the best.

as the two of you laid in his bed, you couldn’t help but think. and in an impulse, you blurted out, “do you really love me?” as soon as the words had left your mouth, your face heated up with embarrassment. you had meant to phrase it more carefully, but the sound of his voice kept repeating that same line in your head.

larry recoiled, barely visible, as he stayed silent. what was he supposed to say? he couldn’t even act cool in the moment as his mind scrambled for words, any words, to come to mind. “uh…” he said, gulping. he could feel his hands getting clammy. “you can, uh…you don’t have to feel obligated to stay if you’re uncomfortable. i don’t want you to feel like you have to pity me.” that came out a bit self deprecating, but he meant it. he was the one who had fucked it up. he was the one that couldn’t even keep his words to himself.

as you processed his sentence, you furrowed your eyebrows. you had been seeing larry for a few months now, was it? the time you spent together, you felt it had become more than just sex. you guys built a friendship, a bond. maybe it was soon, but life didn’t wait for anyone. “no, fuck..! no, i don’t want to leave, i just…” you paused, thinking about it for a moment more. “i think that i might, um. i don’t know, i can’t really think straight right now, i just…i know i have feelings for you.” and you left it at that. you didn’t know if you loved him yet, but you were sure of yourself.

larry’s brain stopped working for a split second in that moment. he took time to replay your words in his head, but only for a second, because before he knew it he was rambling. “wait, seriously? like, actually? you don’t have to say anything to try and make me feel better, know that. i don’t want to try and—“ you cut him off by shaking your head. “no, no! im not just saying this shit, seriously. im really sure of it, actually.” you laughed softly, half heartedly. it was hard to make eye contact.

larry let out an incredulous laugh as you smiled at him nervously. maybe this moment should’ve been more serious, but all he could think in that moment is that he felt happy. truly, genuinely happy. “let me take you out on a date,” he said, to which you responded with a bright smile and a nod. he couldn’t help but laugh again at the situation, and how unorthodox it all felt. he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

the two of you had stayed up late talking. just talking about life, about feelings and emotions. you two didn’t wake until late noon, but waking up to see your face snuggled into his chest was just about the biggest surge of serotonin that larry could’ve received.