#my boyyyyyyyy

[wulfhalls]

can he have a nice day. CAN HE JUST HAVE ONE NICE DAY. HE LOOKS LIKE A SAD SKITTISH HORSE CAN WE GET HIM OUT OF THERE. can he just go on a nice picnic or something

[the-darklings]

well ACTUALLY i feel like the only pairing we haven't seen is terrence x reader 👀

i need him w a girlfriend who loves him to death and supports his band even if he's a terrible singer (she'll never let him know she thinks he's tone deaf)!! she'd reel him in after wild nights. she would have to be the coolest person in the world to match his vibe, i fear. i feel like she'd either be way out of his league but he pulled her with his charms, or someone kind of nerdy that he manages to pull out of her shell.

diner dates where he gets cheesy and tries to share a milkshake with you. bike rides together on cool afternoons. going to listening booths at record stores together!!! he'd throw full blown house parties for any occasion (he just wants an excuse)!!! he's the type to see that shot in the breakfast club where the guy puts his hand in his girlfriend's back pocket and copy it immediately. he's soooo the first to apologize every time, even if he doesn't know what he did wrong. shotgunning kisses when you smoke weed together, yup. 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

i literally never send in asks but i'm terrence's #1 fan and had a lot to say ig 🙈

terrence wilson who sees a girl reading alone in a diner booth every tuesday and thursday and decides on week two that he’s going to sit across from you. doesn’t ask. just slides into the booth with his milkshake and his warm, enormous lacrosse-captain energy and drawls “whatcha reading” and you look up from your book like a deer that’s been shot at and he thinks oh no. oh no, she’s perfect.

terrence who keeps coming back. same booth. same days. you stop jumping when he appears. start leaving the seat across from you empty. start looking up when the bell rings. he doesn’t know you do this. you don’t know he notices.

terrence who asks about every book you read and listens (actually listens, chin in hand, eye contact so steady you have to look away) and then goes to the library and checks out the same book and reads it badly, but shows up the next tuesday with opinions that are objectively wrong but delivered with such passionate confidence you laugh behind your hand. your laughter is the best sound he’s ever heard. better than the crowd at a game. better than his band (which is terrible but he loves it). better than anything.

terrence who finds out you’ve never been to a house party and is personally offended. “you’ve never—okay. okay. I’m throwing one. this weekend. for you.” “you can’t throw a party for me.” “watch me.” he throws a party for you. it’s enormous. half the school is there. you stand in the corner of his living room holding a cup you haven’t drunk from with your back against the wall looking like you’d rather be literally anywhere else. he finds you in twelve seconds flat. doesn’t drag you into the crowd. sits down on the floor next to you, against the wall, hands you a different cup (juice, he noticed you don’t drink). and you sit there together on the floor of his own party while the music pounds and people dance and he talks to you about the book you lent him last week. his shoulder is warm against yours and you realise this party is for you. not the house full of people. this. the sitting. the shoulder. the boy who threw a party as an excuse to sit on the floor beside you.

terrence who does the breakfast club thing. immediately. the first time you’re officially together he puts his hand in your back pocket while you walk through the mall and you get flustered while he grins that enormous terrence grin and you say “people are looking” and he shoots back “good” and squeezes.

terrence who takes you to the record store and puts headphones on you in the listening booth and watches your face while the music plays. not listening himself, but watching you. the way your eyes close and head tilts. the way your mouth moves silently with lyrics you’re memorising in real time because your brain does that and he’s obsessed with it.

terrence who is a terrible singer but who serenades you in the parking lot after a game, sweaty and grass-stained, bellowing off-key with his lacrosse stick as a microphone. you cover your face with both hands and he pulls your hands away and kisses you, grinning and warm, happy that you came to watch him play.

terrence who shotguns kisses when you smoke together on bobby’s back porch. his mouth on yours, breathing the smoke between you, your eyes watering. his hand on the back of your neck, gentle, holding you close while the smoke curls between your lips. “you okay?” “I’m dying.” “you’re doing great.” you cough into his chest, pressing your forehead to his collarbone. he’s soo in love.

terrence who introduces you to bobby and brendan. bobby likes you immediately because bobby likes everyone. brendan likes you specifically because you’re the first person besides the companion who doesn’t try to fill his silences. you sit next to brendan at a cookout and read while everyone else talks and brendan looks at terrence over your head with an expression that says keep this one and terrence nods because he already knew.

terrence who learns your anxiety. who figures out (quickly, because terrence is smarter than people give him credit for, the class clown thing is a choice not a limitation) which situations trigger you and which don’t. crowds: bad. one-on-one: good. surprises: bad. plans: good. loud bars: bad. the diner booth on tuesday and thursday: the best. he restructures his entire social life around your comfort zone and does it so casually, so seamlessly, that you don’t realise he’s doing it until bobby points it out.

“he turned down mike’s beach party for you.”

“he said he didn’t feel like going.”

“terrence wilson has never not felt like going to anything in his goddamn life. the man showed up to a funeral he wasn’t invited to because he heard there’d be good food. he turned it down because you don’t like crowds.”

you confront him about it. he shrugs. “I like the diner better.” like choosing you over a beach full of people he likes and booze and fun isn’t a declaration of love so loud it should come with a megaphone.

terrence who doodles your name on his lacrosse gear. on his notebooks. on his hand. who writes “T + [your initial]” on the fogged-up window of bobby’s truck while bobby grumbles “dude, my truck” and terrence says “dude, my girl” and the argument is settled because terrence wilson has never lost a debate he cares about and he cares about this more than anything.

terrence who calls you his favourite nerd. who flexes after a lacrosse goal and grins at you in the stands. who picks you up and spins you in the parking lot and you’re laughing and hitting his shoulders and saying “put me down” and he doesn’t put you down. he has all that strength for a reason. who falls asleep on your lap while you read and your hand finds his head and your fingers start moving over his face and hair without looking up from the page. he makes a sound so content bobby throws a cushion at you both.

the popular boy and the quiet girl. the loudest person in every room choosing to sit on the floor beside the softest. because terrence looked at a girl reading alone in a diner booth, and saw someone whose silence had the same shape as his noise: a person trying to figure out where they fit. and he thought there. you fit there. next to me. on the floor. at the party I threw for you.

[suckmyarschkarte]

[notsoheterosapien]

I drew Yancy :)

[derangednctzen]

leno fight v3

[hamletteprinceofdenmark]

Reading Project Hail Mary as a podcast enjoyer like:

[the-astra-disastra]

YES DO YOUR LITTLE GROOVY SHIMMY, MY BOY, DO YOUR LITTLE JOYFUL SHIMMY!!

[trans-hakuri]

And he meant it