#Best Headphones for DJ

[thebananaiscold]

I kinda always wanted to make a buds in toyland oc, but never really did it before because I didn’t want it to come off as being weird or anything. I saw @sillysarahsthings post their budsintoyland oc and said ya know what? Count me in. I want to join in on this! Also, you designing tulip based off a fisher price toy seemed like fun and legitimately made me want to try and design an oc based off an already existing toy so I did. This is Zia Stardust, I designed her based off this fisher price “DJ Bouncing Star” toy and also decided to make her into a DJ because why not? I feel like she would live in Duskshire and her assigned kids would be other aspiring DJs and other musically gifted kids. I even made her a kid named Minnie! @budsintoyland

[deepakthakur8223]

Silent Headphone for Ganesh Visarjan

Ganesh Visarjan is a Hindu festival celebrated with great enthusiasm and fervor in India, especially in the state of Maharashtra, including Mumbai.

Silent headphone Ganesh Visarjan is a way to enjoy the festival without being disturbed by the noise. You can use silent headphones to listen to music or other sounds that you enjoy, without disturbing others. This can be a great way to relax and enjoy the festival, especially if you are sensitive to noise.

To use silent headphones for Ganesh Visarjan, you will need to find a pair that allows you to connect to your phone or other device. Once you have connected your headphones, you can start listening to music or other sounds. The headphones will block out the noise from the festival, so you can relax and enjoy the festivities.

Silent headphones are a great way to enjoy Ganesh Visarjan without being disturbed by the noise. They are also a great way to connect with friends and family, as you can all listen to the same music or sounds. If you are looking for a way to enjoy Ganesh Visarjan without being overwhelmed by the noise, then silent headphones are a great option. You can enjoy the festival without being disturbed by the noise. You can connect with friends and family by listening to the same music or sounds. You can relax and de-stress without being overwhelmed by the crowd.

[technofinch]

they were sooo right for this one btww

[reviewskim]

Top 5 Best Affordable Turntables [Review-2023]

[felt-squirrels]

Just saw a one hour production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and I am forever changed

[lqvesoph]

Brother’s best friend || LN4

gif by @princemick

summary: you’re carlos’ sister and know lando from your brothers time at mclaren but now a few years later feelings might change

a/n: this is literally just a small piece i wrote a few weeks ago

warnings: bit of suggestive talk, alcohol

taglist | masterlist

"When did he get so fine?", you whispered to Rebecca who nipped at her cocktail. "Hmm?", she asked, not having paid attention.

You nodded over to Lando who stood behind the DJ desk, white shirt and headphones on.

Rebecca smirked. "Go over", she said, pinching your side softly. You shook your head. "I can't, you know I can't. If Carlos finds out- and besides I don't think Lando would-", you stopped when you saw Rebecca looking at you with her brows furrowed and a be-fucking-for-real look.

"What??", you defended yourself. "That boy has been crushing on you since 2019, Carlos scared him away back then but I doubt he'll still listen now. He's not 19 anymore", Rebecca told you.

Your heart skipped a beat when she told you but you tried to ignore it. "He's still Carlos' best mate, he won't just betray his trust like that", you shook your head and took another sip from your straw while glancing over to Lando.

"Just get the fuck up and talk to him, it's exhausting watching you two admire each other from afar", Rebecca laughed and pushed you a little.

"Wait he's looking at me as well?", you asked, getting a little excited. She nodded. "Yes, as soon as you're not looking- now for example", she explained.

You turned your head to meet Lando's green eyes piercing into yours through the dark room of people.

You nodded, gripped your drink a little tighter and stood up.

"Hey", you called over the loud music, leaning over next to the DJ desk. Lando smirked and wriggled his brows as a way to greet you.

He asked you something but you couldn't quite make it out and only looked at him with a head shake and a lost expression.

Lando leaned over the desk so his lips were close to your ear. His necklace, hanging down from his neck, being the only thing you could focus on.

"What's in your drink?", he asked, his hot breath meeting your ear. "Vodka Lemon", you called into his ear. Lando leaned back a little and held out his hand, signaling you that he wanted to try a sip.

You knew 2019 Lando never liked alcohol, in fact you couldn't recall a time where you've ever seen him drink. But you wordlessly handed him your glass and let the boy take a sip.

To your surprise he didn't grimace in disgust but took another sip. You reached out for your glass again. "Heyy, get yourself your own", you joked.

Lando laughed and carefully handed you the glass once again, his fingers lightly touching yours.

"You ever stood behind a DJ desk?", he asked, pointing to the mess of buttons next to him. You shook your head.

He held one hand out and wriggled his fingers. "Come on then", he demanded with a smirk and led you to the side where you could enter the private space.

"It's okay, I know her", he told the guy standing next to the small entrance before pushing the hip-high door open and let you in.

"Mi amor", he joked and took your hand. You chuckled and followed him.

"It's so many buttons!", you called into his ear, gracing his cheek slightly with the tip of your nose. His arm draped around your shoulders.

From the close distance you saw his slightly flushed cheeks and glaced eyes, along with the messy curls better than before.

"Come on I'll show you", Lando laughed and handed you the pair of headphones from his head.

He carefully put them over one of your ears, leaving the other free so he could still talk to you. Then Lando grabbed your hand and placed one finger on one of the buttons.

A loud remix-like sound arised and you flinched a little because you could hear it much louder and more clear through the headphones.

"That's so cool!", you called and pushed the button again.

Lando's left arm was still wrapped around your shoulders, his right hand was holding yours and guiding you to press the right buttons in the right moments.

You didn't notice but from across the room your brother starred Lando down with his glares.

"Why is he standing so close to her? He's way too close", he grumbled, taking a sip from his straw. "Let loose, they're not kids anymore", Rebecca smiles, wrapping one arm around Carlos' waist.

"She's 20", he defended you. "Exactly, she's not a child anymore", Rebecca talked to him in a smooth voice.

Carlos nodded but a frown was still visible on his face.

"Why is he touching her like this?", he asked after a few seconds of silence, pointing to Lando's hand that was wandering lower on your back. "Carlos, stop it", Rebecca chuckled and pulled him down on the couch, next to her.

A shiver went down your back when you felt Lando's fingers pushing themselves slightly under your crop top. You leaned into him a little further.

"What are you doing?", Lando softly mumbled in your ear, his hot breath hitting my skin. "What do you mean?", you asked, acting oblivious but pushing yourself further into him.

Lando closed his eyes for a second and his grip tightened around your waist. "Darling-", he hissed. "Lando", you whispered back. "Your brother is watching us really carefully right now", he mumbled against your neck.

"Then let's leave", you suggested, your heart beating because you didn't know if you went to far but Lando's low groan gave you confirmation that he was more than okay to leave.

You quickly put down the headphones that Lando had previously placed on your head. You grabbed his hand and he immediately linked your fingers, his hand feeling warm in your own.

"Cabrón!", you heard a voice yell behind you, immediately recognizing it as your brothers.

"Run!", you whispered but reacted too late as Carlos had already grabbed Lando’s shoulder. "Where do you think you’re going?", he asked, a stern impression on his face.

"Barbados, so we can get married in secret", you replied, rolling your eyes at your older brother. Lando suppressed a giggle and raised his arms when Carlos eyes landed on him again.

"Just taking her out for a spin, I promise I’ll get her back in one piece", the curly headed driver said, standing his ground under the watchful eyes of Carlos Sainz.

Your brother kept mustering the boy until you snapped your fingers in front of his face. "Cut it off, I’m not a kid", you scolded your brother before grabbing Lando’s hand.

"We’re leaving, I’ll see you tomorrow", you yelled back towards your brother and dragged Lando out behind you.

As soon as the fresh air hit your face you turned around to face Lando, still having his hand in yours. "I heard you’re taking me for a ride?", you grinned.

"You know that was an excuse", he laughed but moved towards his car. "Figured, but I won’t pass up on the opportunity to take a ride in your Mclaren", you giggled, turning around and leaning your back against the car. "I might just use you for your car", you smiled innocently.

Lando smirked and came closer, his knee pushing between your legs and his lips almost touching yours.

"Careful, I said I’ll bring you back in one piece, I never said anything about your ability to walk", he muttered, grabbing your waist firmer and pressing his lips on yours.

[essenceofelegance]

A Year || LN4

summary: A year can really change someone in a lot of ways.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

notes: THIS IS MY FIRST SMAU SO LMK WHAT YOU THINK! also english is literally my third language and this isn't proof read/ grammar checked so mistakes are bound to appear :(

SMAU/ Written

Summer 2023

Max Fewtrell added a video to their story.

tagged: @/yourusername @/LandoNorris

yourusername posted!

yourusername Ibiza!!

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, maxfewtrell and 94,879 other

tagged: @/LandoNorris @/MaxFewtrell

user1 DJ LANDO!!

user2 y/n feeding us dj land content. she's the real queen here

user3 I thought y/n said she didn't like to go clubbing

➥ user4 maybe she's just there to be with lando

user5 bro did anyone see that video on TikTok? y/n looked so uncomfortable I feel so bad for her

➥ user6 RIGHT?

➥ user7 she's such a good girlfriend, if I were her, I would've just left lando at the club by himself lolol

user8 salivating bc Dj landooo

user9 BARK BARK BARK

➥ user10 y/n looking at this be like...

user11 does anyone know what club theyre at?!! I'm in ibiza I wanna meet them!!

➥ user12 bro leave them alone

➥ user13 @/user12 I don't see a problem 🤷

-

You never liked clubbing.

After all, you were only here because of Lando.

The music was too loud, people were pushing up against you, you never really liked to drink because you had a really low alcohol tolerance, you could make an entire list of why a club was not your go-to hang out.

"Lan," you yelled, trying to speak over the music, "Yeah?" He said, taking one side of his DJ headphones off so he could speak to you.

"Can we go back?" You asked. There was nothing you wanted more than to go back to the comfort of your hotel room with your boyfriend.

"It's only midnight." Lando said, "Why would you wanna go back? Are you not having fun?" Land asks you, but you could tell he wasn't really focused on you. You could see it in his eyes.

"I don't wanna stay any longer, clubbing isn't really my thing." You said, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"Soon, baby, okay?" Lando said, not even giving you a chance to protest before turning back to his DJ set.

You sighed in defeat, before retreating to a quieter corner of the club.

It was going to be a long night, like any other you've spent in a club, with Lando.

Summer 2024

Max Fewtrell added a photo to their story.

tagged: @/LandoNorris

yourusername added a photo to their story.

tagged: @/LandoNorris

Lando Norris added a photo to their story.

caption: taking pictures of my pretty girl

tagged: @/lando.jpg @/yourusername

yourusername ibizaaaa im backk

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux and 107,897 others

tagged: @/LandoNorris @/yourbestfriend @/MaxFewtrell

alexandrasaintmleux miss you! ♥ by author

lilymhe ditch him for me!!! ♥ by author

➥ yourusername say less 💍

➥ landonorris ???????? @/AlexAlbon

➥ alexalbon atp im used to it

user1 both of them are so pretty its not fair

user2 no DJ Lando content?!

user3 Not even following y/n because she's lando's girlfriend, im following her bc she's Y/N

user4 that jawline

user5 why do they keep going back to Ibiza

➥ user6 litt, like, why can't they go literally ANYWHERE ELSE

user7 OMGOMGMG I WAS tHERE AND I SAW LANDO GO UP TO Y/N FROM BEHIND AND LITERALLY PULLED HER INTO HIM BY THE WAIST AHHHHHHHHHH

➥ user8 WHATTTTT

➥ user9 picture or it didn't happen

user10 dj lando...?

-

You were about to head to the bar to get another drink, seeing as Lando wouldn't want to leave anytime soon, and your best friend was probably hooking up with some hot Spanish guy, when you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, the familiar scent of Lando's cologne surrounding you, along with the smell of alcohol.

Lando nuzzled his head into your neck, mumbling something quietly, so quiet you couldn't hear him over the club music.

"What is it?" You said, raising your voice slightly, so he could hear you over the loud buzzing of the club music.

"Nothing." He mumbled, "Missed you, is all."

A small smile unwittingly showed up on your face, "Im gonna go get a drink. Go party."

But, Lando shook his head, "Can we go back to the hotel? I wanna cuddle." He said into your neck, instinctively pulling you closer.

You were shocked, to say the least. A year ago, he wouldn't leave the club no matter how hard you tried to convince him. He was a party animal, but now, he was asking if you wanted to leave.

You checked the time on your phone, it was barely midnight, Lando never left anything before midnight, let alone a club.

"Why, are you feeling sick?" You asked him, turning around to face him.

His arms wrapped themselves back around your waist, "What?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. "No." He said, "just wanna cuddle with you."

"That's new." You commented as you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck.

"I always wanna cuddle." Lando said.

"Yeah, but not at the extent of leaving the club early." You said.

"Can we please go?" He mumbled again, looking at you like a puppy.

You nodded after a few seconds, "Never liked clubbing that much anyway, I only come to be with you."

As Lando and you and Lando were heading towards the exit of the club, you bumped into Max (Fewtrell). "Leaving so soon?" He asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah," Lando nodded, "Going back to the hotel to cuddle with my girl." He said, raising you hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"You've really changed him," Max joked, "Lando being the first to leave? Never in a billion years."

You laughed, "Believe me, I don't believe it either."

"Can we go?" Lando all but whined.

You laughed again, "Okay, okay, lets go."

You waved goodbye to Max and led Lando out the club, and when Max saw his best friend look at you like you were the one who hung the stars in the sky, he knew you'd changed him for the better. And that his best mate was well and truly, in love.

-

yourusername sleepy boy chronicles 🤪

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 108,950 others

tagged: @/LandoNorris

landonorris at least I look cute ♥ by author

➥ yourusername can't disagree with that

user1 how does one fall asleep in the middle of packing?

user2 hes jus like us  🥺

➥ user3 relatable king

landonorris I was only that tired because you kept me up all night doing cardio..

user4 lando and y/n are so cute tgt I cannot

user5 Im convinced Lando only made it to 24 because of Y/n

➥ yourusername I mean..

➥ landonorris hey!

user6 Lando has no bad angles

user7 I SAW THAT LANDO

➥ user8 y/n is just a girl and lando is just a boy.. they need their cardio ;) ♥ by author

➥ user8 Y/N PLS MARRY ME

landonorris ❤️

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 709,897 others

yourusername is this what you do in your free time? take pictures of pretty girls?

➥ landonorris only of the ones that I love more than anything

➥ yourusername so you're saying there's more than one? 🤨

maxfewtrell Happy for you, mate ♥ by author

comments are limited

[princessbrunette]

shittysoundcloudrapper!jj was persuasive and he knew it. it took barely any convincing anyway, his pretty best friend was just so whipped for him.

“look all i’m sayin’ is all this could be yours.” he fans the money out, staring you down with the ghost of a smirk as you lounge on his bed. you push your mouth into the corner, considering his offer as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. it’s not that you didn’t trust jj, you did — you’d just never been so exposed before. his friends would hear this song, strangers would hear this song — you almost couldn’t believe he was asking to record your moans as a backing track for his beat. as you think, your smile grows — the blonde creeping towards you until he’s stood right infront of you, looming over your curled seating position.

“c’mon mama, you smell that?” he caresses your face with the wad of money, running it over your cheek and beneath your nose. “yeah. that’s that paper. hard earned benjys. you wanna help me out, don’t you? know you do.” he cooes and you’re hypnotised, nodding your head with fluttering lashes. it’s times like this he was glad to have you under his thumb.

it’s later on in the evening that things are ready to commence. perhaps when you’d agreed to help jj out, he wasn’t quite clear on the task at hand. yes, he wanted your moans for his backing track — but he didn’t want you stood infront of a mic, awkwardly recreating a scene from pornhub premiums. no, he was after the real deal. authenticity. method acting, so he called it.

“‘cus like, i’on know what’s worse. a chick faking an orgasm when you’re fucking her, or faking it just for the sake of your music. nah, i think… we’re close enough to make the real thing happen. like — for artistic expression… purposes.” he explains as he sets up his little mic, pulling a pair of headphones over his ears to check the sound. “check, check.” he drawls into the mic before nodding in approval.

“so how are we gonna…” you furrow your eyebrows, always having been on the more innocent side of the sex spectrum. before you even get to attempt to verbalise your confusion, the blonde lifts his head — responding like it was no biggie.

“oh, i can totally go down on you. ‘f’thats cool.” his tongue darts out to swipe at the corner of his mouth and you feel your eyes widen. “really you just gotta lay there n’hold the mic. easy as shit.” he shrugs, finally sitting down and looking at you expectedly as you gawk.

“wait, really?” you giggle. you’d thought about it many times, jj maybank between your legs — but now it was all too real, and you didn’t know it would be happening so out of the blue, practically a business proposition. he’s in your space again, cupping your cheek in that way that was far too familiar to just be friendly.

“look — babe, you don’t gotta worry about things being weird, alright? i’m a munch, like actually — aaaand, are you tellin’ me right now, you would say no to a little head? i mean if you don’t want me to eat it you can always y’know, DIY—” he gestures a circular rubbing motion with his middle and ring fingers, alluding to getting yourself off instead. “little dj action. just need the moans to be real. m’going all out director mode here.” somehow, the thought of touching yourself infront of jj was more humiliating — so you shake your head, sucking on your lip in thought.

“no, you can do it.” you whisper and he grins.

“yeah? atta girl. what a team player.” your best friend praises before kissing you quickly on the mouth. something he always did, platonically — but now made your heart speed up a ridiculous amount.

as you lay back shakily on the bed, you think back on the lyrics scrawled in messy handwriting in the notebook he’d leave lying around — the contents pointing to him really being about that eating pussy life. something like ‘sucking all on her clit like it’s my lifeline — she asked to return the favour, already got mine’ underlined in red biro.

it’s a blur after he hits record, kissing on your thighs making you giggle and rubbing you until there’s a wet spot through the cotton of your panties. you know he’s smiling, because you can feel the upwards curve of his mouth when he starts kissing you through the fabric. you’re pleasing him just from letting out the sweetest whimpers, challenging himself to get you to moan louder for the sake of his song.

it’s not long before he’s got you bare from the waist down, legs fanned wide open with his arms round your thighs. by this point, he has to remind himself not to talk as to not disrupt the recording — and you’re doing him proud, not even having to try to release the most breathy, beautiful sounds that he knew would be perfect on the track.

you get pouty as soon as the whole things over, deciding your best friend was a total sicko. he’d gotten all kissy on you, wet lips smushed against yours, his eyes all hazy from arousal as he makes you taste yourself, murmuring about how you did such a good job for him before wandering off shamelessly to the bathroom to jack off. you get shy, still oozing your release onto his grey-blue bed sheets thinking back on the way you begged him to talk you through it. he was focused on his producing, but he couldn’t resist on whispering “there y’go pretty mama. lemme hear it, good girl.” whilst you cream on his mean fingers.

no one seems to think it’s a big deal but you, his friends john b and pope often lazing around his place smoking weed and playing on the playstation, totally unresponsive to jj sat sprawled on the couch with his laptop on his lap, chopping and editing away on some shitty producer plugin — your moans occasionally playing around the room as he clicks away, tongue between his lips in concentration, backwards cap snug over messy blonde strands.

the boys chime in with an occasional comment. “sounds dope, man.” pope hums out brainlessly as he stares at the tv, thumbing aggressively at the console joystick, the brunette beside him quick to agree.

“no yeah, sounds good.” he agrees, eyes even darting towards where you’re curled on the couch painting your toenails, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing.

when he drops the song, he promotes it everywhere — and whilst you asked for no credits for your… addition, it seems to go without saying that you’re the girl on the song, no one else even in question as wherever jj goes you’re seen hanging off his arm. his friends might not make a big deal, but you notice the stares when you go out.

rafe cameron has the audacity to corner you at the juice bar, wearing a smirk that just told you that he knew. “yeah uh, love your friends little song.” he stares you down, egging on a reaction. “been playin’ it on a loop for some reason.”

you avoid his eyes. “yeah, it’s pretty good.” you shy away, but he blocks your path.

“mm, for sure, yeah but uh, you— you know i could have sworn i recognised the… female voice in the back. got any idea who that might be or…?” his smirk only grows, licking his lips as he looms over you.

“nope…” the doe eyes give you away.

“huh, ‘cos it kinda sounds like a pretty girl i know.”

you run and tell jj, all sniffly and regretful — knowing that snitching on rafe to jj is only going to cause problems. his reaction is less defensive and aggressive than you imagined, instead leading you through to his bedroom by the waist.

“look, bae — people are gonna talk, alright? doesn’t mean shit. sure as hell don’t care about what rafe thinks.” he sits you down, standing above you as he curls a hand under your chin affectionately. “but hey, if the money wasn’t enough— think i can make it worth your while. y’wanna lay down for me, sweets? no mic this time. jus’ me and that pretty pussy.”

[disciplined-cornfed]

Rome wasn't built in a day

Alex had never expected his college life to take this kind of turn. He’d moved to New York for school, planning to live on campus like most students, but when he found a better deal on an off-campus apartment that financial aid would cover, he jumped on it. The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, close to the subway, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like a win.

What he hadn’t planned on, though, was Frank—his new roommate.

Frank was… something else. The guy was like a time capsule from a decade ago, straight out of Jersey Shore. From the gelled-back hair, the deep tan, ridiculous yelling at football and ufc matches every weekend, the flashy chains, to the relentless love of tank tops and gold watches. Alex wasn’t sure if Frank was for real or if this was just an elaborate, extended joke.

But here’s the thing: despite his douchey exterior, Frank was actually a pretty nice guy. Sure, he blasted club music at ungodly hours and flexed in the mirror every time he passed it, but Frank was always chill. He’d offer Alex food whenever he cooked, made sure the apartment was clean, and always gave him a heads-up when he had people over. Plus, Frank clearly knew what he was doing in the gym. The guy was shredded, and Alex had to admit, Frank’s discipline when it came to his diet and workout routine was impressive.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s curiosity got the best of him.

One day, after weeks of seeing Frank pound protein shakes and head to the gym religiously, Alex asked him for some advice. He had always been a casual gym-goer, but seeing Frank’s dedication made him wonder if he could up his own game.

“Yo, Frank,” Alex said one afternoon as they sat in the living room. “What do you usually eat for those gains, man? And how do you stay so consistent?”

Frank grinned, pausing the DJ Pauly D remix playing on his speakers. “Bro, it’s all about focus foods and the right lifts. Stick to lean meats, eggs, beans, lots of veggies. And you gotta hit the weights hard. No shortcuts.”

Alex nodded, scribbling down some notes on his phone. “Got any recommendations? Like content or something I can watch?”

Frank’s grin grew wider. “Oh, for sure. I’ll send you some stuff. There’s Dom Mazzetti, Vinny Guadagnino—some good shit, bro. But hey, I’ll send you my playlist too. Got a WAV file I use at the gym that keeps me hyped.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “A playlist?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s got some fire tracks. Also, I threw in some personal affirmations underneath it, helps me stay focused during my lifts. You probably won’t even notice them, but they help, bro. Trust me.”

Alex wasn’t really buying into the whole “subliminal affirmation” thing. It sounded like some weird self-help nonsense. But Frank was shredded, and if these little tricks worked for him, maybe they were worth a shot.

Later that evening, Alex plugged in his headphones and hit play on Frank’s WAV file. It started with “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me”—a male cover that felt oddly calming. The song transitioned into upbeat remixes like “Fireball” and other club tracks that seemed to pump adrenaline into his veins. Somewhere in between, Sinatra’s smooth voice made an appearance, bringing a strange, nostalgic energy to the mix.

As the playlist played, Alex caught faint whispers beneath the music—barely noticeable. “You love the gym. You crave the weights. Tanning makes you feel amazing. You rep the Italian pride with every lift.”

He chuckled to himself. This subliminal shit can’t be real, he thought. But, whatever—Frank swears by it.

The playlist ended with “Lucky, Lucky Me” again, and as Alex dozed off that night, the tune echoed faintly in his head.

The changes didn’t happen overnight, but as the days went by, Alex began to notice subtle differences. It started with his workouts. He’d always been someone who worked out occasionally, but now there was something different. One morning, as he walked past the gym on his way to class, he felt an urge—a need to lift. It wasn’t just about getting in shape anymore. Something about the weights called to him, pulling him in.

He ended up inside, grabbing a set of dumbbells and diving into a full workout. By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat, but instead of feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated. There was a rush—an energy that coursed through him, leaving him wanting more.

From that point on, the gym became part of his daily routine. At first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He started following Frank’s tips—lifting heavier, focusing on compound movements, and pushing himself harder with each session. His muscles responded quickly, growing faster than they ever had before. His shirts started to fit tighter, hugging his chest and arms in ways they never had before. Every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but flex, admiring his progress.

It wasn’t just the gym either. One afternoon, Alex caught himself in front of the bathroom mirror, noticing how pale his skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Without thinking much of it, he booked an appointment at the tanning salon down the street. After his first session, he looked at himself in the mirror, marveling at the golden glow on his skin. It made him feel good, confident—like he was stepping into a new version of himself.

Tanning became part of his routine, just like the gym. He started looking forward to that golden glow, the way it made his muscles stand out more, and how it just felt right.

One weekend, Alex found himself wandering into a clothing store, drawn to a section of tank tops with bold prints—Italian flags, American flags, vibrant colors that screamed confidence. He picked up a few without thinking twice, the fabric feeling perfect against his newly defined arms. When he got home and slipped into one of the tanks, he stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps. The tank hugged his body in all the right places, and as he admired his reflection, a grin spread across his face.

Damn, I look good.

It wasn’t just the clothes that made him feel this way—it was the pride, the feeling of representing his heritage with every lift, every flex. It felt right.

The most surprising change came with his voice. At first, it was barely noticeable—a slight shift in his accent, a few new words slipping into his vocabulary. But as the weeks went on, the transformation in his speech became undeniable. His voice took on a thicker Jersey inflection, and words like “bro” and “yo” started slipping out naturally, almost without him realizing it. He spoke with more confidence, more swagger, his words carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.

He even noticed how loud he’d become, but it wasn’t obnoxious—it felt like he was owning the room. His friends started to comment on it, but Alex didn’t mind. It felt like the way he was supposed to talk, like his voice was finally matching the rest of his transformation.

One night, Alex found himself scrolling through YouTube, where he came across a Dom Mazzetti video. He clicked on it, expecting to laugh at the over-the-top persona, but something else happened. As Dom joked about gym culture, diet, and lifting, Alex found himself nodding along, relating to the lifestyle. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out anymore—it was part of who he was becoming.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Alex’s days revolved around the gym, tanning, and repping his heritage with pride. He found himself following more content creators who embodied the same mindset—guys who lived for the grind, the lifts, and the pride in who they were.

His roommate Frank noticed the changes, too. “Bro, you’re looking jacked,” Frank said one afternoon as Alex flexed in the mirror before heading out to the gym. “You flexing the gains hard now.”

Alex grinned, running a hand through his hair, which he’d started gelling back every morning. “Yeah, man. It just feels right, you know?”

Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud smirk on his face. “Told ya. Once you get in the groove, there’s no going back. You’re one of us now, bro. Tanning, lifting, and heritage. Welcome to the crew.”

Alex chuckled, feeling Frank’s words sink in. Wasn’t just about the workouts or the diet no more. It was the whole package—the attitude, the pride, the way he carried himself. He’d become confident, bold, and unapologetic. The gym had become his temple, and every flex in the mirror, every perfectly tanned muscle, reminded him of how far he’d come.

He spoke with more confidence now, his voice carrying a thick Jersey accent that seemed to come naturally. Words like “bro” and “yo” slipped out effortlessly, and he found himself embracing the louder, more assertive side of himself. Even his walk had changed—there was more swagger, more presence.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later, Alex and Frank were sitting in the living room, scrolling through profiles of potential new roommates. Their lease was ending soon, and they needed to find someone to fill the third room. Frank leaned back in his chair, sipping a protein shake as he swiped through a list of candidates.

“Yo, check this one out,” Alex said, pausing on a profile. “Marco Ricci. Italian last name.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and leaned in, studying the screen. “Oh shit, an Italian? That’s promising.”

They opened Marco’s profile, but instead of seeing someone flexing or rocking a tan, Marco looked... pretty regular. He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t exactly lifting heavy either. Pale, with a pretty average physique, he was the kind of guy who didn’t seem to spend much time at the gym. His shirt was plain, and his expression, while friendly, was far from the confident swagger Alex and Frank had come to expect in their circle.

Alex chuckled, nudging Frank. “Dude’s kinda pasty, huh?”

Frank smirked. “Yeah, bro. Definitely needs some work. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know? He’s got the Italian blood—that’s what counts. We can mold him.”

Alex nodded, his mind already racing. Marco might not be there yet, but with the right guidance, who knows? The guy had potential. He just needed some direction.

“Yeah,” Alex said, swiping right on Marco’s profile. “We’ll get him there. If he’s down to move in, I have the perfect playlist in mind."

Frank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Bro, he won’t know what hit him.”

Alex grinned, flexing in the mirror nearby. “Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

Frank laughed again, raising his protein shake in a mock toast. “Damn straight, bro."

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[pparacxosm]

hunger is ugly

(blue-eyed son 3 !! which, as any third and final installation of a franchise ((back to the future and spiderman withstanding !!!)), is obviously the best one; i’m only half kidding; homeless era!patrick zweig x jaded businesswoman!reader; see parts one and two; tw eggnog; tw coworkers; cw smut but nothing crazy; if you’re seeking closure don’t hold your breath; i’m sick of these two; they clearly don’t know what they want; and i refuse to take blame; tw fitted sheets; tw cocaine talk)

He once told you he couldn’t wear a suit. I couldn’t, he’d said, I’d look ridiculous in a suit. But he cleans up quite nicely, actually.

In fact, he looks good, and you’re not above admitting that. He looks better, actually. Healthier. And he looks handsome in his casual blazer and charcoal linen slacks. Oh God, are you gonna look frumpy beside him?

“I’ve always wanted to go to an office Christmas party,” he says.

You’re on the floor before him, straddling your full length mirror, and all your tumbledown, halfway gutted makeup products are strewn wildly about you.

Your bed, behind you, is a skeleton state, too. When he’d come over, he’d nearly laughed at the fact that you’ve apparently been so busy, your clean bedding is still sitting in a laundry hamper in the corner of the room, and you’ve been sleeping in the inserts on a bare mattress for who knows how long.

Patrick doesn’t pass judgment on the mess in your apartment. He still feels he owes you in some weird, kiss-the-hand-that-fed-you sort of way.

You’re not a slob. You always look put together when you leave the house. You’ve just had to focus on work. You can’t stumble at the finish line. Or… the glass ceiling. Or the penultimate rung on the corporate ladder. Whatever. If you can successfully execute this next product launch, who knows what other doors might open for you. Probably doors in buildings very similar to the one you’re already working in. But that’s nothing to sneeze at. Every morning, you see your reflection in those immaculate windows.

So anyway, it shouldn’t matter. Things just get away from you sometimes.

Patrick’s standing above you pensively reflecting how many undone buttons says Corporate Shindig Eyecandy (Please Give My Date That Promotion) as opposed to Reformed Tennis Heartthrob. His shins are sort of bracketing your hips.

“Well, it’s half an office Christmas party, and half—like—a congratulatory… thing. For Deirdre’s successful proposal,” you murmur, leaning forward, tugging your temple to flatten your eyelid and flick on your liner.

“Aw, what?” he frowns, “Deirdre? We fucking hate Deirdre.”

You laugh. You try not to delude yourself, not to let these moments exist in some flowery vacuum in the eye of your mind, not to ask him to fix your bedding for you. But it’s hard.

Whoever let Sam replace the DJ halfway through the party was either a genius anarchist or too drunk to care.

You know it’s probably the latter. You down the cognacheavy eggnog from your glass and make a disgruntled face. You don’t know what you expected. Shania Twain is belting from the speakers while Sam wiggles his headphones in a dumb, awkward dance.

He’s pretty funny, all things considered, but you’d still like nothing better than to whack him up the head with an ink cartridge.

One of the blousy interns from your department is haplessly flirting with Patrick, pretending he bumped into her and made her plash some eggnog on herself, but she’s trying to be selfaware about it.

“Oh gosh, isn’t this such a cliché: the boss’ plus one wiping a dairybased drink from the subordinate’s—… oh no, I know she’s not technically my boss, but she’s sort of my senior within the company, like on the general corporate ladder, argh, I know, I hate it!”

She could’ve said superior, you think, instead of senior.

You’re feeling too pissy to go and save him from that failed interaction. You turn your back to the crowd and look out of the glossy black windows. That chorus keeps stomping its pointed heels over your fragile nerves.

The best thing about being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun!

Do you have a little fun? Are you a Good Time? You have to laugh. It’s just a stupid song. But you need the validation.

That’s why Patrick picks the wrong moment to come and talk to you.

“Hey, this chick is chasing me with a napkin around the room.”

You snort. “Not my problem.”

Patrick leans against the buffet, delivering a wry salute when Sam points at him from the DJ booth and winks. “That guy’s something,” Patrick chuckles, “He asked me to sign his dick.”

“Did you?”

Patrick hums like he’s ambivalent and places a large hand on the small of your back. “Would that be good for you, if I did?”

“I’m fun, right?”

You swirl the remains of eggnog in your glass. You ask the question like he’s been holding out some big secret from you.

Patrick blinks. He scoffs in disbelief, but also smirks pointedly at your glass. “You’re asking me?”

You stare at him through the briar lace of your eyelashes. Everyone who’s met him today has had their own lashes drenched in laughter. You hadn’t realised it first. You’d figured those were mutually exclusive things, downandout charm and the breathing room of comfortable success. But no. He’s charming, anyway. It’s just that he’s not haggling for scraps of generosity anymore so much as he’s lapping at the fleeting dregs of likability. And you hate that you notice that, and you hate that you notice him, that you know him, in a sense. Because what are you supposed to do about it?

“Everybody loves you. Just… be objective.”

Patrick still laughs. He rubs his stubble. He should’ve shaved this morning. He thought he was doing something for you, something nice, by coming with you to this thing and wooing everybody’s pants a little tighter, but maybe he’d missed the mark. “You know I can’t be objective.”

“Why not?” You sound petulant, leaning angrily against the buffet. You’re old enough to know what he’s saying, of course. He’s being nice. He’s telling you he thinks you’re fun, that the rest shouldn’t matter, but then he doesn’t need anything. Even when he had nothing. So he wouldn’t get it. He wouldn’t notice.

Patrick tilts his head and narrows his eyes in that way he does when he’s vivisecting you, then clears his throat. “You’re drunk.” He laughs again, a little gratuitous. Then, after a while, “I have fun with you. You’re engaging.”

“Engaging?” you echo, frowning. “Seriously? What am I, an essay?”

“No, I just— Jesus, what do you want me to say?”

You clench your jaw. Okay, you are drunk and you’re at this office party from hell and a hard rain’s a-gonna fall, so goddamn it, he will call you fun.

So you get right into his face. You’re good at that, even if you barely reach his shoulder. “Tell me I’m fun, because I am, and you think I am.”

You try to swat his hand away, but his palm stays put, a hot magnet just above your tailbone, and he doesn’t even look like he’s doing it on purpose. It’s just that he feels an emptiness in his stomach, depressing but also thrilling. Like taking a hit. Like you’re a little bag of white powder. Beyond the dark windows it starts to snow. He used to do a bit of coke, when everything around him dropped dead and started to rot, and he couldn’t stomach the smell. He doesn’t seem like the poster kid for moderation, but the coke was good, and he didn’t let it be any more than that. In fact, at times, the coke was great. The coke was fun. But he couldn’t live with the coke. You understand? He couldn’t settle down in New England and raise a cat with the coke.

“I don’t think I can win with you,” he murmurs, and, for his part, he at least sounds like he needs to change that.

It’s supposed to be a comfort fuck—and you call it fuck in your head dismissively—but it’s too raw and unknown. You’ve spent so much time in this questionable relationship with existence in his life. In and out. You thought you’d learned him, or at least learned the both of you, but his hands on you, his mouth on you—it’s frightening, finite, foreign. Somehow divorced from this man who, for all his egofueled casual mania, doles out intimacy like free samples.

This is what it feels like to watch him unravel, but it’s not just beggar’s desperation. No, he’s making room for someone else beside him in a way he hasn’t in a long time.

He keeps touching every part of you, frantically, trying to feel all of you, sinking his head between your thighs with a groan of relief, immersing himself in another body. But not just any body, because he keeps mouthing your name. As if to remind you that he is here, and you let him in. Because it matters that it’s you, that someone who knows him is letting him in. He’s humming to himself as you come against his fingers and mouth.

... hunger is ugly... souls are forgotten... I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it...

You like his full weight on you, sinking you into your undressed mattress, trapping you, suffocating you under his bottomless gloom. He has one hand on your thigh. He lifts it at an uncomfortable angle, sinking his cock deeper into you, making it ache. How does he know you like that, anyway? He doesn’t. He noticed.

You want to resent what he’s doing here, which is trying to ‘win with you’. Because he’s been on a winning streak, and you’re not about to spoil that.

And these demeaning, mechanical thoughts probably aren’t reflective of his inner monologue at the moment, but it’s easier to believe he doesn’t respect you than to contend with this whole thing.

You want to tell him, you don’t know what I like, but he starts talking about this tournament. There’s a match in Boston, for real this time. You’re having trouble paying attention.

You fall asleep with him still inside you, head on your chest, and you, crushed comfortably by his weight.  

You wake up before him. He must have rolled off you in the middle of the night. He’s sleeping next to you, one hand stretched towards you, head on the pillow at a strange angle.

You turn away quickly.

You sit on the edge of the bed, breathing in and out, staring at the heap of his cocktail wear on the floor. You feel sore and stupefied. You feel cramps in your muscles. You feel weak in the best and worst way possible. You keep breathing in and out, hoping you’re keeping quiet.

But he wakes up anyway.

You can feel his gentle eyes on the slightly hunched line of your back.

“Hey.”

“Morning,” you mumble, throat dry. Why does it have to be morning? Why does it always have to be morning?

“Come back here,” he says, as if it weren’t morning.

You shake your head softly.

His silence is edifying. It goes on for too long.

“You’re not gonna stay, are you?” you ask, serious and formal, gripping the edge of the mattress. You clench your jaw, body taut.

You can hear him swallow, throat working to get the syllables out.

“I’m not, like… leaving you.”

You close your eyes.

“No, I mean—yeah,” you chuckle miserably. “You’re probably doing the right thing. The best thing for you.”

You feel the tears slide out one by one, and your shoulders shake slightly.

“Please don’t cry.” He’s using that soft and primordially tentative voice he uses with your cat. “I’m not worth it.”

You look over your shoulder at him. “Then why is it so fucking hard to watch you go?”

It’s only recently you’ve started getting angry with him. You used to get grudgingly amused, perhaps vaguely reproachful, but now his stupid face just makes you livid.

His eyes tremble pensively. “I don’t know. But that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You turn your head away, rolling and wiping your eyes at the same time. “I just don’t see how it could work.”

And there’s a door he could open for you. There’s something he could say at this juncture to reassure you, momentarily, that it could. But he can’t bring himself to lie, because he cares about you too much to take a bump of that powder.

He hangs his head and looks at the beautiful line of your back, memorising it.

Then he gets up.

“I’m gonna make coffee, then we can get that fucking fitted sheet on, alright?”

You nod absently. You don’t turn to look at him as he puts on his clothes.

He comes up to you before he leaves. He runs his finger under your chin and lifts it up. There’s a kitten scratch on his cuticle.

You could come watch the match.

But he doesn’t say that. You haven’t seen him play since New Rochelle. “I’ll fill the demon’s bowl. I think she’s starting to like me.”

You laugh, wiping more tears.

Patrick takes that hand, your hand, wet with tears, and brings it to his mouth. He kisses and licks the salt away. He keeps it there for a moment longer than he should. You gently pull away.

You only exhale when he’s gone.

Toby slinks out from behind your mirror, swishing her tail back and forth in contempt.

You narrow your eyes. “Oh, shut up,” you whisper.

[vax-merstappen]

dancing with the F1 boys

no bc imagining dancing with these guys was literally the cutest thing ever! my personal favorite to write was yuki, like i was melting from the fluff. hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing!

Lando Norris

Lando had been practically begging you to come with him and some friends to his favorite club. You asked a few of your own friends along and told Lando you would meet him there. When you and your girlfriends walked into the club, you instantly noticed your boyfriend standing at the front of the club, headphones on and mixing music for the crowd. You always thought Lando looked super hot when he would dj and you grabbed your friends and pushed your way to the front, where he would be able to see you dancing. Little did you know, nothing turned Lando on quite like watching you enjoy yourself to his music. After his set was over, he pulled you aside to dance with him and do other incredible things in private.

Oscar Piastri

Oscar wasn’t one for dancing in public, as both you and him knew that he had two left feet. But when you asked if he would come with you to your best friend’s wedding, you knew that there would be no better opportunity to coerce him onto the dance floor. You let him have a few drinks and chat with a few of your mutual friends at the table while you danced with your best friend. When you noticed him watching you as you moved, you ran over to the table and pulled him to his feet, dragging him over to the floor. He couldn’t help but smile as you danced so carefree while holding his hands. Eventually he couldn’t help but move along with you and the beat, your mission of getting Oscar to dance finally completed.

Max Verstappen

You had spent one of Max’s days off on a romantic trip together. You had spent the entire afternoon exploring the city and laughing with him about inside jokes only the two of you understood. You had finally sat down in a park where you would be able to watch the sunset. As day turned to night, you heard a busker with a violin start to play somewhere nearby. You looked Max in the eyes before asking him if he would dance with you. “Of course, schatje.” You spent the last minutes of sunlight in each other’s arms moving together, not caring who was watching.

Charles Leclerc

“Ma chérie, would you listen to this and tell me how you like it?” Charles asked. You walked into the room to see him seated at the piano, looking at expectantly. “Of course, amour.” He started to play and you closed your eyes and listened to the notes echo through the space. You loved when he would play for you, especially his original pieces. As the song continued on, you began to dance to the music. Your eyes were still closed, so you couldn’t see Charles watching you or the beaming smile on his face. “How was it?” he asked after he stopped playing. “I think it’s your best one yet,” you responded, and you pulled your boyfriend in for a kiss.

Carlos Sainz

When you admitted to Carlos that you had not listened to many Spanish songs, he immediately turned on Spotify and began playing his favorites for you. He grabbed your waist and pulled you close, beginning to dance along and sing the lyrics. You had to admit that the songs he picked were catchy and you began to dance along with him even though you didn’t know the words or what they meant. You just loved seeing how happy the music made your boyfriend.

Lewis Hamilton

One of your and Lewis’ mutual friends was a pretty famous singer and she wanted the two of you to be in a music video for her latest song. Of course you both had enthusiastically agreed. You were on set for the day, shooting various scenes where you were walking around the city together. Finally to end the video, your friend had told you to just dance to the music together in your own way. Lewis gave you a warm smile as you began to move your hips to the beat. He grabbed your hand and spun you around, just for you to land laughing in his arms. Your bodies continued to move to the music until the song ended and you kissed as the final note played on the set.

Daniel Ricciardo

One thing you and Danny always liked to do was karaoke, even though neither of you were particularly good singers. Daniel was so passionate about music that he was always down to sing to his favorite songs, even if it meant showcasing his not so great voice. This particular night, Scotty and Chloe had egged you both on into doing a duet. Standing on the stage, you both belted the lyrics to your favorite song, dancing around the music without a care in the world. You took a bow when you were finished singing and immediately went to cue up another song, not wanting your musical moment with Danny to end.

Yuki Tsunoda

A week ago, Yuki had told you that he had never played the Just Dance games growing up. You immediately decided that you needed to fix this and planned a date night in where the two of you could play the game together. While you waited for your takeout food to arrive at the house, you took Yuki through your personal favorite dances. At first you beat him easily, as you had some memory of which dance moves would come next. But as the night went on, Yuki began to catch up with you and eventually outscore you at your own game. Your food arrived and you demanded a rematch after the meal, as you weren’t one to simply lose. Yuki laughed and agreed to keep playing and you both ended up laughing and dancing together late into the night.

Alex Albon

It was a depressing rainy afternoon and you had been curled up feeling sad all day. Alex had been on a call with his race engineer for work, but once he finished he immediately noticed something was wrong. He asked you what was wrong and you replied, “Nothing much, it’s just a gloomy day.” Alex told you he had an idea and to follow him. You did and he led you downstairs and out the front door. You stood where it was dry as Alex ran out into the rain. “Come on, baby, let’s dance in the rain!” he shouted and you couldn’t help but smile and run out to join him. Even though you both got soaked, you had an amazing time splashing through the puddles in the arms of your amazing boyfriend. When you went back inside, you both curled up in warm blankets and dry clothes. Only one movie came in mind to watch, Singin’ in the Rain.

Logan Sargeant

Logan had got a bad result in qualifying and was feeling down about his chances during the morning of race day. He had been tense all morning, so he was relieved when he was allowed to go take a quick break in his driver’s room. He walked in the door to see you waiting for him. You could tell Logan had been feeling down. An idea came to mind and when he sat down next to you. You turned your phone’s volume up and hit play on Logan’s favorite hype song. You got up and started dancing and singing to the lyrics. Logan started to smile and even got up to dance alongside you. “Thanks, babe,” he whispered to you as he pulled you close. “That’s just what I needed.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Loser catboy reader with cc???? Crackpost of them pls

[The ending is a bit crack, but I got a lil carried away and did a full mini fic. Hope you enjoy-]

Yan Incubus + Catboy [G.N] Reader

-

A new donation.

"Heyyyy, Bestie- Check out my new mix. Pretty sure it's my best work ever and comes from the heart - xoxo"

That guy again- And people call you lustful. You can still feel his hands around your waist and his breath on your neck. Your thighs and back are proof of his clinginess after your last encounter with him left you riddled with nail marks. It didn't surpise you much given his flirty persona to the public, but the sting almost made you feel bad for all the times you've used someone's face as a scratching post. Almost.

Adjusting your headphones, you click away from the game on stream - pulling up the chat room where the sound file had been sent. As in your face as he was, the demon was still one of your top members and a pretty big name in music and influencer spaces. Gained some new followers and a fair amount of pocket change just by posing for a few pictures with him and liking every comment he left on your posts. The guy was a pro at baiting fans with an alleged relationship. Even changed his status to taken with a cat emoji and a sea of hearts next to his name.

Right as you click on the file another message pops up on screen.

"You listen to it yet?:p"

"Just turned it on. Chill, it's been like three seconds."

"KK-ily. Call me when you're done. I'll be waiting~;)"

"Yeah, yeah....whatever." Moving your tail into your lap as you recline, you prop yourself against the back of your chair as the melody slowly fades in. The flow is more mellow than the house vibe the DJ is known for. You find yourself swaying - ears switching as vocals ease into the mix. A faint whisper barley audible over the thumping beat. The voice hitches, strained and breathy as another joins it. Your fur stands on end as a familiar chuckle plays through your ears - his voice as clear as the lip gloss coating his lips when he kissed you.

"You have no idea what you do to me... I need you.... say that you're mine.. Say it."

"I'm.... I'm yours, just - just shut up and kiss me again."

Rage floods your eyes. You throw your headphones across the room- quickly joining the video call C.C had been waiting for you in. His shit eating grin makes you want to send your monitor to the same fate as your headphones. He waves

"Hiii, baby. What's wrong? You look tense- Need me to come over and make you feel better?~"

"Did you fucking record us making out and put it into your song?!"

"Just thought it's about time we put those silly rumors to rest and come out as proper couple. Pretty obvious to everyone that we have something going on. I'll let you know the results in a few hours once it finishes uploading."

"C.C!"

"Buh-bye, hun!"

C.C waves goodbye, blowing a kiss at the call abruptly ends. Using him as a scratching post sounds like a great idea, but something tells you he'd enjoy that.

"Fuck."

[deepakthakur8223]

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[heechwe]

high & dry | 𝖍𝖛𝖈

➸ First story in the @hogwartsaltior universe! ୨୧ pairing: chwe (vernon) hansol x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 4.5k ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ tags: hogwartsaltior!au, dj!vernon, gardener!reader ୨୧ synopsis: Vernon is good with his words behind a microphone and with hundreds of students listening to him. Why is it so hard to talk to one girl in the gardening club?

“Thank you for listening to Chwe’s Power Hour sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. Have a good day and night folks.” Vernon puts the headphones down on his makeshift desk, surrounded by studio equipment and paperwork that he always neglects to turn in on time. His homework also sits unfinished in his backpack, but he’ll worry about that later. His focus is on looking over the stats for his latest stream.

Dokyeom, Vernon’s roommate and fellow Gryffindor, gives him a thumbs up as he scours the laptop screen in front of him for the numbers Vernon’s after. “Best show so far man.”

“But do the views say that?” Vernon looks over Dokyeom’s shoulder, anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

“Read it and weep, kid.” To his surprise, his best friend is actually right for once. Almost two hundred students listening in, both on and off campus. The outreach Vernon’s radio show has gotten so far is something to be incredibly proud of, but he wants more. Maybe if he can prove music is not a waste of time, his parents may take him more seriously when he talks about switching majors.

“Holy shit,” Vernon says out loud, smiling at the evidence.

“I know.” Dokyeom closes his laptop and begins getting his stuff together. “Listen, I gotta head to Combat Training, but we’ll go over the next show tonight.”

They exchange handshakes as Dokyeom exits the tiny office space the university gave them as a studio, leaving Vernon alone with his thoughts to ponder during what remains of his lunchtime.

Astrology isn’t the worst degree in the world, not by a long shot. He likes to learn about the constellations, the stars, how the planets moved in tandem with one another in a symbiotic pattern. And sure, being in one of the longest educational tracks seemed daunting, according to his friends, but it’s interesting to look up at the sky and know there’s a system up there that needs to be understood and appreciated like everything else.

But does he love it? After a year of studying, that remains to be seen.

What he does love, though, is his Power Hour.

It gives him a zest to his daily routine that didn’t exist before. His schedule had just been friends, Quidditch, and studying. It was fine at first, but being without something that truly drove him to do more, be more, had become taxing after a while.

Walking out of the building, he decides to go home and eat lunch in the comfort of his bed before his next class, Star Charts.

Vernon loves to take note of the greenery as he passes the gardens towards the student quarters. But he knows it’s deadly to step foot near the many plants and flowers, not just because of his allergies. He doesn’t want to smell like a joint if he steps in the wrong spot thanks to Josh and Jeonghan’s extracurricular activities in the horticulture club.

What does make him stop today, however, isn’t just the plants. It’s mostly the girl plucking weeds from the ground at the entrance of the courtyard, stealing his breath in a way pollen never could.

Face caked in soot and a messy bun at the top of your head, you know a steamy shower is in your plans as soon as classes are over. You loosened the yellow tie around your neck hours ago to focus on the gardening work in front of you, but it turns out to be a bad decision due to it flopping around in the wind. If only the last root could give…

You look up to see a guy facing your direction, mouth lightly agape and seemingly looking directly at your spot on the ground. Was something or someone behind you that you failed to notice? You turn your head to look over your shoulder, finding nobody down the path or coming out of the greenhouse you were in prior to your work outside.

You look back in the guy’s direction, but he’s gone. He’s speed-walking up the path to the student quarters when you do catch the image of him, his back quickly going out of sight.

Shrugging, you go back to the stubborn weed that has taken up too much of your time. Maybe you’ll cut it at the base and call it a day.

Vernon scribbles the score of the student’s assignment on the front of the paper, relieved it’s the last in the stack. TA duties have been completed to fruition, possibly for the first time in weeks. He wishes him and Wonwoo got to switch TA positions, but Vernon’s aware that it breaks all kinds of moral codes for a TA to also be a student of the very professor they’re assisting.

At least Vernon gets to see the architecture of the Law building for reference in his drawings. He didn’t have any painting classes yet, but the more he could practice now, the better. If he was to ever become as good as his mother, anyway.

The tall doors of Professor Sung’s class open, and Vernon almost can’t believe his eyes.

It’s you. You’re not covered in dirt but still entirely breathtaking, holding a large potted plant in your hands. As you walk closer, careful not to bump into the desks on your way towards him, he is unsure what to say for the first time to capture your interest.

You smile and set the pot down on Professor Sung’s desk. Both of you speak at the same time, words blended on top of each other’s.

“Sorry to bother-“

“I’m allergic to pollen.”

Your face morphs into confusion, but you laugh all the same. Vernon wants to immediately crawl into a hole. Why in all things magical did he just let those words come out of his mouth? 

“Okay, noted.” You point to the plant. “This is for Professor Sung. It’s asphodel. No pollen, I promise.” You look over the graded papers on the desk. “You must be his TA.”

Vernon nods immediately and stops, feeling ridiculous again for being so eager and forthcoming with information. What was wrong with him? You were just a girl. A beautiful, cute, hardworking, breathtaking girl, but still a girl!

Your mouth goes slack in recognition, eyes suddenly widening. “I remember you now! You were outside of the student grounds the other day.”

Vernon laughs nervously. He puts the papers in front of him into a neat pile, trying to stifle his panic. All he remembers from that day is you and trying to run from the fact you caught him staring. The cringe he feels is excruciating. “Yeah. I like to look at the plants on my way to my room. You guys have done a great job with the…selection.”

You laugh again and bite your lip. “Yeah, it’s mostly me and Jeonghan. You probably know him.”

He nods again. “We practice together on the Quidditch field. Well, us and my roommate Seokmin.”

“I know Seokmin! And forgive me, I forgot to ask your name.” You hold your hand out politely and give him your name in turn.

How can a person be so gorgeous and nice? Vernon thinks maybe it has to do with your Hufflepuff placement, but he has a feeling the evidence lies in your personality. One he wants to get to know now as soon as possible.

“Hansol,” he replies after placing his palm in yours, your soft skin making him weak in the knees. “Most people know me as Vernon or DJ Chwe or Chwe but y’know—what I’m saying is, my name is Hansol.”

You smirk. “Nice to meet you, Hansol.”

You play on Vernon’s mind in a loop. The feeling mimics the visual graphic Dino made for Vernon’s radio station icon, the turning CD adorned with the words “CPH.”

“Alright, listeners, I hope that music mix brightened your day and leaves you in anticipation for the next one. My name is Hansol Vernon Chwe. Thank you for another installment of Chwe’s Power Hour, once again sponsored as always by Hogwarts Altior. And you have a good day and night. Peace!”

Dokyeom and Vernon take their. headphones off at the same time, Vernon’s best friend blowing out a breath. “At this rate, man, you’re going to be turning discs all over the world.”

Vernon chuckles. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, bro.”

“C’mon! You talk about it all the time. Pull the plug. Chase your dreams.” Dokyeom knocks Vernon in the shoulder with his fists multiple times, turning the younger boy into a heap of laughter. “And, maybe before that, let in the girl you’ve been talking about?”

Dokyeom motions for Vernon to look towards the clear windows of the station. When he does, he finds you there with a smile on your face, an entirely new plant in your hands. It’s smaller than the asphodel you harvested for Professor Sung. The plant, like its pot, is in an assortment of bright colors, mostly teals and greens.

Vernon motions for you to come inside, so you do. You greet Dokyeom before Vernon. “Seokmin and I share a free period, and he told me he helps you with your station stuff.” You smile and put the plant on Vernon’s desk near his headphones. “Don’t worry. No pollen.”

Vernon inspects it with his eyes, unfamiliar with the plant in front of him. His brows narrow in pure curiosity, and you answer the question that sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Muggles call them succulents. They’re really easy to take care of. Just a little sunlight and watering once a week should be enough.” You laugh to yourself and glance around the office space. “Thought the place could use some color.”

“Thank you,” Vernon says. His heart can’t help but be shaken up even more by your presence in his sacred space. He barely knows you, yet he’s so enraptured at your mere existence.

He used to make jokes about his friends when they were down bad for girls, ones that they knew were out of their leagues. Now, he feels like an asshole for doing so. Clearly the workings of the heart are something out of a person’s control.

Vernon isn’t idiotic enough to call it love, but it’s as intense as infatuation can be.

“I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you guys later.” As Dokyeom’s leaving, he raises his arms in the air in a silent chant for Vernon. Thankfully, you don’t notice Vernon’s idiotic best friend and roommate, entirely focused on him.

You stand there, unsure what to do now, but Vernon fills the space with the dumb courage he musters. “I was just on my way to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to join me?” 

He stutters, suddenly trying to play it cool. “I mean, unless you have a meeting or something with the gardeners. In which case, I don’t want to intrude—“

You raise your hand to shut him up, giggling. “I would love to, Han.”

The nickname on your lips makes his heart stop and start again in a millisecond. He could get used to that. Definitely.

On the brink of midnight, Vernon gets a text from Jeonghan.

[YJH]: Got party favors in the greenhouse. U in?

Vernon groans, stuffing his head in the pillow. Should he smoke when he has an early class tomorrow and another Power Hour special? Probably not.

But the second text that pops up makes Vernon sit up straight in his bed.

[YJH]: Your missus is our DD, if that changes your mind ;)

Lunch a few days ago had been a success. You laughed at all of his jokes and even took his hand when he offered to help you up from the picnic table. Although you exchanged numbers at the end of the “date,” he hadn’t found the nerve to text you.

But now, he won’t waste the opportunity to see you.

Vernon puts on his old Quidditch hoodie and a bit of cologne to mask the odor. The next step after he sees you is to do his laundry to avoid smelling as much as possible. Homework sits somewhere in the middle of that plan.

He closes the door to the greenhouse behind him, the smell of the herbs hitting his face immediately. It wasn’t a mystery how Josh continued to supply himself and his friends with…supplements. As the president of the Horticulture club, he can access any specimens at any time. Surely it should been you, your care for plants and flowers not going unnoticed by him and probably your other classmates. Pretty privilege has to apply, for sure. But you’re much prettier than Josh, too, so what the fuck’s up with that?

You smile when you see Vernon enter the greenhouse. Your new friend skates by the stoned, giggly man-children sitting in the lawn chairs and passing their joint around. Hoshi is practically asleep, eyes almost closed and chuckles leaving his lips at the speed of a young schoolgirl. Vernon has the passing thought about how ironic it is all the Slytherins he knows take up their efforts with “gardening” yet probably know only a handful of plants.

“Hey, flower child,” Vernon says, sitting next to you on the workbench.

“Oh, spare me. Is that my nickname now?” You jut out your bottom lip, pouting.

“I think it’s nice. It fits!” Vernon motions with his hands to the surrounding vines and other foliage within the greenhouse. 

You nod in agreement. “Okay, point taken.”

He looks over at the assignment you’re doing, some form of chemistry if he had to guess. “What’re you working on?”

“Lab stuff. If I want to be a herbologist, I have to pass this class,” you say with a groan.

“Wait, you’re telling me there’s actually something you’re not good at?”

You stick your tongue out at him, threatening to poke him with your pencil. “Just wait, you’ll see I have many flaws.”

He knows that can’t be true. To him, even the most minute flaw of yours is impeccable.

“But yeah, just balancing equations and the like. I know astrology is more metaphysical stuff, but—“

“I love chemistry,” Vernon says, standing up and grabbing leaves from random plants between his fingers. Strangely, the more he walks around and steps into your world, the more confident he feels. “Speaking of that, I wanted to ask—“

“Hansol, watch out!”

Little does Vernon realize his back is perfectly positioned in front of an adult sprig of venomous tantacula, the plant ready to spring for the sight of prey. In an instant, Vernon sees your wand appear from your side and ducks out of the way to avoid the impending spell.

“Diffindo!” The venomous tantacula shrivels as soon as its body is separated from the base of the plant. You breathe in a sigh of relief at the fact your friend has not met his demise at the hands of the creature. However, Vernon’s quick dive turned out to be a bad choice. He managed to drop into a large pile of terracota plant pots. Some of them cut up his arms and a small part of his face in the process of his crash landing.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask, bending down to inspect his face. You touch a hand to his cheek, moving his face in your direction. Vernon responds with a gummy smile.

“Nothing a bandaid can’t fix.” Vernon releases a breathless laugh.

“I have a medical kit somewhere around here.”

You run to find it. Vernon’s just dumbfounded and pleased he got so close to you on a technicality. Yes, his face is probably bleeding a good amount, but he knows it’s worth it to see your pillowy lips and doe eyes up close and personal.

When Joshua stumbles up to Vernon on the brick floor of the greenhouse, stoned out of his mind, he laughs like a madman. “Did you fall or something?”

Vernon smirks, resting his head happily on the ground. “You could say that.”

The collection of vinyls, CDs, and musical content in Vernon’s room is a marvel. The piles are mixed in with the typical items in a guy’s room, socks strewn about the floor and star charts leaning against the wall. When you call Vernon a slob in a playful tone, he can’t deny it.

“I have to be in the mood to clean,” Vernon says in his defense. 

You roll your eyes. You’ve met messier guys, but Vernon’s definitely making his way to the top of the list. “If I had to be in the mood to garden, half of the greenhouse would be withering away as we speak.”

“Is that how Josh keeps his presidential position, by only doing half of the work?” Vernon smirks, running his hands over the map in front of him. The homework needed to be done yesterday. Calling you as a reinforcement to make him focus is his best chance at getting it done.

Then again, seeing you now, he thinks that was a mistake. How can he focus when you’re in his room, chastising him to work and clean his room in such a cute way?

You may just be the end of his academic career as he knows it.

“No. Josh is a good president, and he really stands up for us with the student government. If he hadn’t advocated for muggle flora imports when they wanted to put more money in the Quidditch reserves, the greenhouse wouldn’t look half as good as it does right now.” You snap your fingers together. “Like the succulent in your radio station! Josh is technically to thank for that.”

“Don’t let him take the credit. I bet you put in a lot of effort growing that thing.”

You scoff and go back to inspecting his music collection. “Have you listened to every album you own?”

Vernon nods, smiling. “Some more than once. But that’s because some of those are my folks’ copies.” He gets up from his bed to stand next to you, tracing the outlines of the vinyl jackets with his fingers. “Like this one? Stevie Wonder’s In Square Circle? One of my favorites.”

The corners of your mouth turn up. “Surprises me you’re not a music undergrad. You already know so much.”

He chuckles sadly. “My parents thought it would be best to find something more practical to study.”

“Astronomy is practical?”

A smirk appears on his lips. “Point taken.”

You huff. “Anyway, it’s your life. It should be about what you love to dot. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer, but herbology’s my calling.”

“No kidding, flower child.”

“You know that nickname is cringe!”

In the midst of your banter, Vernon was unaware how much the distance between you closed. He can smell the perfume lingering on your neck, the scent of moondew driving him insane. His better impulses tell him not to stand so close. He should avoid inching further towards you. It’s wrong to focus on the look in your eyes that tells him not to stop.

Your breath hitches just a touch, and that’s his signal to throw all of his reservations out of the window. He presses your back to the vinyl player, caring little for the scratch of the record at the sudden movement. He can buy another one later.

He captures your lips with his and instantly feels every worry sap out of his being. You wrap your arms around him, hands firm against the back of his neck and fingertips grazing the ends of his hair. Magic in his world is not just exclusive to charms, potions, and cauldrons anymore.

He has you to thank for the definition expanding.

When a moan slips out of his mouth, you pull away breathless.

“Sorry if I was too forward. I—“ Vernon blurts out.

“No, no, don’t apologize.” You smile shyly. “I wanted you to.” You press your hands to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palms. “Just don’t want to rush into anything.”

He nods without a second thought, hanging onto your words with glee. You’re into him. Enough to want him to kiss you, at least.

“Does this mean I can ask you on a proper date? Not just lunch after CPH?”

You giggle into his neck. “Yes, I would love that.”

After a month of secret kissing behind corridors, study dates in the library, and even Vernon helping tend to pollen-free plants in the garden with you, he may have to admit he’s fallen into the deep end.

But how does one say that, especially someone as terrible with non-lyrical words as him?

So, he decides the perfect way to tell you isn’t in the standard sense.

He writes.

He writes down his thoughts and feelings to a random beat that popped into his head, the rhymes that show up on the notepad in front of him exactly what’s inside of his heart. He makes final touches, moving a word around and then repeating some others. It’s not a full song, just the idea of one at this point, but it says what it needs to, and that’s more than enough.

Vernon texts his parents about his next special, and this time, they promise to listen. Maybe now he can prove to them it isn’t a fruitless endeavor not worth pursuing.

He puts the headphones over his head, one half of his mind occupied with a million thoughts and the other half excited to see what will come after the special. Dokyeom counts him in, mouth in a thin line from focus.

“Welcome to Chwe’s Power Hour, everyone. I’m Chwe Hansol, the man himself behind this lovely hour of music, and I thank you all for tuning into this special episode of the show.”

They go on as usual, answering user-created questions from the last stream and also playing a couple of requested songs. When they make it to the ten-minute mark, Vernon sees Dokyeom’s cue.

“So, recently, I met someone who has quickly become a very important part of my life. So, today, I want to share something that was on my mind with all of you.”

Vernon nods his head to Dokyeom who begins playing the backing track for Vernon’s song. Some guitar strings and a welcoming beat begin to play. The confidence suddenly rises out of Vernon, taking on its own life as he begins the song. The words come out of him effortlessly, the poetry he wrote for you synchronized with the music in a way that has even Dokyeom swaying in his seat cheerfully.

Flower child,

Why can’t I keep my thoughts off of ya?

You grow in my chest without my consent.

Please help when my heart’s under arrest.

Flower child,

I always recognize your steps

When you walk around my head.

The path you have to be familiar with.

Don’t tell me your interest’s a myth.

Flower child,

Is this garden ready to bloom?

You drive me wild.

Can I grow with you?

Flower child,

Can I show you?

You’ve left me beguiled,

Flower child.

The guitar and beat of the song fade out gradually. Dokyeom can’t help himself when he claps his hands together and cheers for his best friend, the sounds coming through in the stream. Vernon laughs and clears his throat.

“As you can hear, my co-host DK seems to have enjoyed my song.”

“Are you kidding?” Dokyeom says, mouth agape. “Best thing we’ve played on this show, no doubt.”

Vernon chuckles heartily, his chest filled with pride. Not just for himself, but for this creation he’s found enough conviction to share with the world. 

“Thank you again for all tuning into this episode of Chwe’s Power Hour, sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. I cannot wait for the next episode and your thoughts on this one. It was without a doubt my favorite special so far. To all of you listening, have a good day and night.”

When the stream comes to a close, Dokyeom grabs Vernon in a tight bear hug, screeching in glee for the younger one’s success. “That was fucking incredible!”

Before Vernon can reply, he feels the buzz of his phone in his back pocket, your name lighting up his screen.

Meet me in the greenhouse? x

Vernon walks through the greenhouse. The foliage and flora he’s encountered many times in the past since meeting you and beginning your love affair greet him. He hopes the flowers he picked up on the quick run from the radio office to the courtyard capture your heart in the same way the plants in the greenhouse do.

Even if they make his eyes itchy around the eyelashes, he will deal with it. No amount of pollen could ruin this day.

You’re working on some homework at the gardening bench when he comes in. You drop your pencil immediately when you spot him out of the corner of your eye. You smile at the bouquet in his hands. “Usually I’m the one bringing you plants.”

Vernon grins as well. “Thought I’d return the favor this time.”

You leave your stool and walk towards him. Pecking his lips, you grab the flowers from him. “You know zinnias have pollen in them.”

He shrugs, taking no stock in the stuffy feeling in his nose. “You’re worth all the allergies in the world.”

Your cheeks turn a deep shade of red. Pressing your nose into the flowers, you take in the smell with a satisfied hum. “They’re beautiful.”

“They represent long-lasting affection, according to Joshua. But he might’ve been stoned when he said that.” Vernon smirks, grabbing onto your free hand.

You giggle. Staring deep into his eyes, your expression suddenly becoming serious. “Speaking of that, I listened to your show.”

Taking a deep breath, Vernon hopes he can find the same courage he had in the studio then now to use exclusively for you. “Since the second I saw you, I was drawn to you. And all the feelings I’ve had since then I put into that song to express just a fraction of how amazing you are. And I know it’s cheesy, but I meant every word, and I hope you feel the same.”

You step away from him, letting go of his hand and walking back to the gardening workbench. Vernon’s anxiety spikes, unsure what your next step will be. Would you say what he wanted to hear, or would you tell him something that would break his heart altogether?

You drop the bouquet on the table and run back to him, knocking all the air out of Vernon’s lungs with a sudden, soul-encapsulating kiss.

In the pressure, movement, and heartfelt nature of your lips against his, he feels idiotic second-guessing you for even a minute. 

You both separate, lips still inches away and smiles abound. Despite your actions saying everything he needed to hear, the words leaving your mouth just confirms every emotion in his heart. “I love you, too.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Wearing their merch (FNAF SB) (Part 2/2)

Writing the opening of this and part 1 right after writing a oneshot start to finish hiss.. hand is very tense and I'm very sleepy.. thank you tumblr draft option

This post was originally going to include eclipse but now thwt I think about it.... I dont.. think there's eclipse merch in game... also with how.. sun and moon are I wouldn't be surprised if basic workers/customers don't know ab eclipse grrrgrrr

Characters: Sun, Moon, DJMM

Notes: reader is gn and human, still trying to find my footing with writing djmm.... love that thang oouuugh but im not sure how i want to portray him yet sobsob

CWs: none

SUN

a headband with sun rays! it may look a little silly but isnt that the point! the daycare attendant is a jester after all! theyre a pair of silly guys!

lights up when he sees you wearing it and skips over... his own rays are spinning around as he tells you how cute you look with them on- or cool if you prefer to be called that! or some other compliment! assuming hes not calling you ever word under the sun...

hes more used to seeing people wearing a shirt with him on it or dressing up in his colors and so on compared to moon, but that doesnt make him any less excited to see someone coming in looking like him!

crushed if any of the rays get dented or torn depending on what material theyre made of, will do his best to mend it

MOON

his hat... sure, its not the most unique thing out there but he knows its supposed to be his when you come into the daycare wearing it for naptime!

will snatch it up off your head to make sure its the real deal or just some other product from some costume shop... WILL be dangling from his wire so you cant take it back from him

if it werent for the sleeping children nearby he would tease you more and hold it just out of reach

he may tease you for it but it does make him feel a bit... weird... not weird bad, probably! its just that sun is typically the more favored one in general so seeing someone just... rocking his stuff... plushies are one thing but wearing something is different!

DJ MUSIC MAN

headphones! they look cool! they even light up! how cool is that!

it takes him a moment to notice that youre wearing them but as soon as he does hes going to sign to you that he thinks you look nice with them!

if he hasnt already given you a playlist of music or otherwise given you songs hes going to make sure you have at least a little something to listen to with your new headphones!

he doesnt have much merch and hes pretty okay with that, actually he was surprised he even had headphones in the first place- at most he thought hed get a plushie or something! he thinks its sweet that you wanted to match with him...

[psychesalcove]

„ POPSTAR BUT IM YOUR BOYFRIENDS GIRLFRIENDS FAVORITE DJ

ANNABETH CHASE X READER ”

GENERAL ROMANTIC HEADCANONS

a/n: HERES YOUR REQUEST ANON!! hope you enjoy some stuff about annabeth, i love her sm 😓 hope you enjoy!!

ᝰ the two of you are basically a match made on olympus (im so sorry idk why I did that)

ᝰ she loves to talk to you about her architecture plans for olympus and other places she's doing

ᝰ if you guys have similar music tastes be prepared to be sharing headphones with her constantly

ᝰ she shows you her sketches of her ideas for olympus to see if you like them

ᝰ gelato dates 100%, the two of you sit outside on a patio eating your gelato and talking about whatever comes to mind at least 1 time a week

ᝰ shes a human calculator, so if you're struggling with math or science at New Rome, ask her and she will gladly assist

ᝰ be prepared to be going to historical sites and museums A LOT

ᝰ if there's a science museum nearby, you are going to be planning her birthday party there

ᝰ I think annabeth takes her sleep to another level, so when you start sleeping with her, know that your going to have memory foam pillows and mattress topper, cooling blankets, throw blankets and pillows, and stuffed animals

ᝰ you and annabeth for sure have the best sleep schedule out of the 7 (I headcanon that they are all still friends 😭)

ᝰ Barnes & Noble dates every other day. no questions asked.

ᝰ she has a tote bag collection and picks the one that best matches your guys outfit that day

ᝰ you two are regulars at this one Cafe by your shared apartment—it's the one with a library upstairs, so self-explanatory why you guys go there

ᝰ yk those restocking videos on tiktok of kitches? I feel like annabeth would be one of the girlies that do that, so be prepared to help her restock her snacks and fridge

ᝰ if your feeling to tired to highlight your notes for whatever college class your in, annabeth will happily color code your notes with her highlighters she paid 45$ at an overpriced art store

ᝰ along the topic of college, if you mention to annabeth you have a test, she will sit you down at the table and you'll be there for hours working on flash cards and other studying methods

ᝰ she will ramble to you for hours about the latest book she's read, especially if it's a historical or mystery genre

ᝰ you and annabeth have volunteered so many times at the local library that the staff considers you one of their own at this point

ᝰ and if you play UNO or any other game of the sorts, she will get competitive

ᝰ no exemptions—even if your dating her

ᝰ you'll sometimes come with her to her appointments to get her hair braided, so you get to listen to the gossip she shares with the person doing her hair

ᝰ she'll also ask you beforehand if you like certain beads or crystals and what would look best in her braids, or if she should just go natural for that period

ᝰ be prepared to have your mind boggled by the random facts she says at any given point, it becomes a routine in your day

ᝰ shes an amazing partner to have and is always going to be by your side