#some of the above reasons other than 'i just don't like it that much' i will leave replies on the art complimenting it like

[fozmeadows]

I think you're right, and if I can talk specifically about this phenomenon in relation to fandom, which often serves as a microcosm of wider social trends, I also think an additional factor is the false belief that certain parts of the internet are primarily young adult, as opposed to adult, spaces. While young adults in general and teens in particular have always been welcome in fandom, the current ubiquity of social media means that many younger fans, by virtue of never having had to pass through adult gatekeepers in order to access private fandom spaces, have grown up assuming that adults are the exception in fandom, rather than the rule. This misapprehension is further compounded by the anonymity of the internet, which makes it easy to assume that anyone you're talking to about a shared interest must be roughly your age until or unless they say otherwise; the general attitude of contempt still held by much of mainstream culture for the idea of fannish adults; and the prominence of certain large fandoms geared around youth-centric media, such as CW shows and YA novels. And the thing is, fandom was always horny! But once upon a time, that horniness wasn't publicly accessible to anywhere near the same degree it is now. Even when it was happening online, it was in private servers and email chains and sites like Elfwood and DeviantArt, or in livejournal communities that were subsequently lost during Strikethrough - places, in other words, that you had to scratch around to find, or where you had to dig through layers of other stuff in order to meet people who were specifically interested in the same stuff as you. Public, social-media-enabled fandom, by contrast, has really only been the primary mode of fandom for the last 15 years, and for the first half of that, it was still new to everyone. Now, though, you've got kids who've grown up taking the current online format of fandom for granted - and for the above stated reasons, many of them have also come to assume, albeit wrongly, that adults are the minority; that either we've been ageing out of our passions rather than sticking around, or that nobody ever finds fandom as an adult. And so it comes as a shock to some of these young adults to encounter unapologetic adult hornyposting on main, not because they're not also horny themselves, but because they're still young enough to be embarrassed about it in public. Take, for instance, something as comparatively mundane as straight people doing anal, or just plain old cunnilingus - do you remember how absolutely scandalous, how salacious those concepts were in high school? I don't mean in the privacy of your own thoughts or what you'd actually done or wanted to do; I mean the idea of a random classmate knowing that you'd thought about it, or done it, or wanted to do it, and passing judgement. Particularly for teenage girls, the shame was excruciating. You had to know enough about sex not to be judged immature, but not so much that you'd be thought a slut; it was death to show you were flustered, because then you were probably a virgin, but being disinterested made you frigid and being confident made you look easy - which meant that the only safe reaction you could possibly have in public if someone brought up sex was to pull an Uno reverse and accuse them of being creepy and gross and weird for having done so in the first place.

Which, to be fair, in many instances, they often were, because teens are not known for their tact or implicit respect for the boundaries of peers! But while there are absolutely other radicalizing factors involved in the puriteen phenomenon in fandom, more and more often, I can't help thinking that the reflexive, knee-jerk declarations of ew, gross, that's weird, even when couched in callout language, are most often representative of embarrassed, insecure young adults trying to avoid the judgement of peers by signaling that they absolutely know the exact right amount about sex, and they're not a prude or a slut or a virgin or anything else, they're totally normal but that person over there is a freak, and we should all pay attention to them instead, because why are they even saying that stuff in public?

Which impulse then, very easily, gets diverted (both internally and by exploitative bad actors) into why are you saying that stuff where I, a baby minor twenty year old, can see it: because these same people think that fandom is a youth space, not an adult space, and thus believe their discomfort should be the yardstick against which normal vs gross should be measured - when they are, in fact, the outliers. Because whereas a certain degree of sexual confusion, embarrassment and uncertainty is normal for people who are either going through or just out of adolescence, or who are just becoming sexually active and/or romantically autonomous, for anyone older, more experienced or less sexually anxious, those schoolyard taboos and stigmas no longer hold sway. Which is not to say that being embarrassed and wanting to be selective about the content you engage with means you're doing fandom wrong; that's absolutely fair at any age. What it means, rather, is that staying embarrassed is not the goal, and is therefore not the guiding impulse through which we police the people around us. The heart of fandom is enthusiasm: caring about something enough to build a community around it, to critique it passionately and in depth just as often as you sing its praises, or, yes, even to write fucky porn about it, and none of this is possible if you're spiritually looking over your shoulder at all times to check if the popular girls in your science class think you look cool doing it, or if you're internally panicking about people knowing you have desires and kinks and interests and compulsions. We all have desires and kinks and interests and compulsions! That's why we're here, at the desires, kinks, interests and compulsions buffet!

As ever, the length of this post got away from me, but the point is this: the reflexive impulse to deflect attention away from your own embarrassed feelings or lack of understanding about something by calling another person gross and weird for mentioning it is, in the most literal and non-pejorative sense, developmentally juvenile. And that doesn't make it bad! It's something pretty much everyone goes through! But that also doesn't make it good, either, and particularly in the context of adult horniness occurring in an adult, horny-positive space wherein individuals are expected to engage according to their own comfort levels, it's not bringing anything useful to the table.

I think a significant part of this whole neo-Victorian sexual moral panic is down to the fact that society en masse simply isn't prepared to confront the incomprehensible nature of what the average person gets off to. Since time immemorial, normal people have been getting off to weird, gross shit in the privacy of their own heads. With the internet giving us mass, unfiltered access to each others' raw sexual expression, we're all just freaking each other out.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Could Mike’s upbringing in a seemingly emotionally distant family environment contribute to any psychological tendencies, such as attachment issues or a need to "prove" himself to others?

I really like the analysis and the fact that you use your psychological knowledge to analyze Mike and I would be very interested in your answers to my questions. :)

Oh, Mike definitely has some attachment issues that likely stem from his upbringing. I wrote about it here, if you haven't read it already.

Mike feels a need to perform, to fit into a role that he feels makes him worth others' love. This could come from a internalized sense that his true self is undeserving.

This is by no means a slam dunk analysis, of course. While Ted has always been portrayed as emotionally distant, we don't know how he was back when Mike was born. We do see moments where he bonds with Holly, so it is possible that it was the same when Nancy and Mike were little, too. Karen also seems to have always been a loving, doting mother, even if she never seemed to be able to connect with her children as they got older.

I start to wonder if maybe the Wheeler children's issues start later in life. Holly does seem more or less happy. This surely comes in part due to her ignorance of everything, but that goes hand in hand with her worldview being mostly confined to her own immediate environment. Unlike Mike and Nancy, and their parents before them, Holly has yet to feel any societal pressures to conform beyond those set down by her parents (and she has no real reason to push back against them).

Mike is and always has been an outcast. That may have been somewhat acceptable when he was little, but, as he got older, there were pressures to be more masculine. We don't see this explicitly in his story, but there are elements there. His bully is very physically aggressive, and the surprise on Lucas and Dustin's faces suggest Mike never fought back before. Karen makes him pack away and donate his toys, something he chafes against. Ted uses sports metaphors when disciplining Mike that fail to resonate with him.

However, there are hints that Mike admires these features. His own chosen D&D identity is that of the paladin, the knight in shining armor. Paladins are strong, courageous, and charismatic. They stand up for the downtrodden and smite evil, even at risk of their own well-being. This is Mike's ideal self, and he's willing to go into it whole hog. We know from the original show pitch that Mike uses D&D as an escape. He uses it to be someone he wishes he could be in real life. If we go back to the bullying example, what did it take for Mike to finally fight back? Someone was insulting Will, someone who would have torn Mike apart if El weren't there. In fact, later on, Mike jumped off a cliff at the same bully's ultimatum in order to save Dustin.

While I do think Mike has a self-esteem issue, it could also be a matter of him holding others' well-being above his own. It's the classic hero complex. Mike can't resist the opportunity to save others because he sees the inherent goodness in doing so, much like a classic paladin would. He's Lawful Good, through and through (though he probably leans more towards the Good than the Lawful). He may have only taken El in because he thought she could help him find Will, but he still gave her shelter for the night, regardless, because that's the sort of person he is.

Mike wants to be good. The problem is that he doesn't see how he can do good without acts of heroism. Will didn't fall in love with Mike because of his heroics. Will fell in love with plain old Mike. This is the season 5 story element that I want to see most. I need Mike to learn that he doesn't need to be playing a role in order to earn love. He just needs to be Mike. He spends nearly all of season 3 and all his time in California before El leaves playing a role, and it causes friction in his relationships. However, his role was twisted from his ideal of a paladin to that of someone who is "cool" or "manly"(from a teenager's perspective). When he takes off this mask, when he's alone with Will, we see the real Mike again, the one who we saw before he left for California. Somewhere along the line, Mike decided that what El wants him to be (or what he thinks El wants him to be) is more important than who he really is. We'll have to see where things go from here, because Mike wasn't really able to help El by playing a role. It, in fact, harmed her.

The trouble with psychoanalyzing fictional characters with any real accuracy is that it presumes they were written with these concepts in mind. I'd wager most of the writers have not studied psychology in enough depth to do so. Still, it's a fun exercise that still has some likelihood to be accurate if the writers tried to write the characters with any consistency and realism.

[yv0nn1e]

"we were born to a world with dead ends."

gravity — rafayel

summary: to be betrayed in one timeline, to find out the truth in another, and now, to seek revenge in the current.

pairing: rafayel x non!mc fem!reader

cw/tw: angst? mean reader, some twists from the myths and the actual lore itself.

note: an alternate version of my backburner rafayel fic where instead of falling in love with rafayel, reader gets angry when she realizes lemuria's fall is actually because of rafayel.

word count: 2k+

non!mc reader who remembers the excruciating pain of losing her life in every single timeline where rafayel was involved.

non!mc reader who, in the current timeline and at eleven years old, starts to get flashbacks of her past lives, not knowing what they were until the memories fill each other in as she matures. the older she gets, the more refined those visions become, until she reaches the age of fifteen where a rough vision of rafayel, her beloved, gives up his heart, and lemuria for this strange yet certainly unforgettable girl. non!mc reader who, realizes that she might have died at rafayel's hands�� that lemuria fell under rafayel's sacrifice and love.

non!mc reader who, at fifteen, decides to walk away from the sea and from her dearest friend who, she now knows, had betrayed their people in their past lives. she goes to land with her aunt, finding solace in her passion for acting and the dramatics. rafayel had tried to stop her, or at least, get him to accompany her yet he could never forget the underlying anger that had filtered her eyes.

"you're really leaving? but why?" rafayel asked. he wasn't sad, not exactly. perhaps just a tad bit melancholy at the thought of his truest friend walking away, leaving him all alone to face the pressure of the sands and seas all by himself.

"i can't achieve anything here." she replies, the duality of the meaning behind her words floating above rafayel's head. she can't achieve anything if she stays right where she had always been after all these years, after all these lives: right next to rafayel. she will be bound to the same ending if she stayed any longer.

they bid each other goodbye, and non!mc reader was more than ready to start a new life. perhaps, if she stayed away from rafayel, if she had stayed away from lemuria, then she cannot befall the same painful fate that she would during her previous lives.

non!mc reader who physically and internally experiences the actual pain of the lemurians' sufferings in her past lives whenever she would get a vision despite the fact that she had already stirred far far away from the sea.

her aunt talia looks at her worryingly as non!mc reader sits on the plush of the luxurious couch, her hand in her chest as she took in deep breathes— each and every inhale activating that painful tightening in her chest, the same sensation of internal stabbing.

"did you get another vision?" talia asks, her soft and delicate fingers rubbing non!mc reader's back. the girl could only nod as she takes one last deep breath before slumping her back towards the headboard of the couch.

"how much longer will i have to endure this? do you even get visions like mine too?" non!mc reader chokes out as she takes a glass of water. her aunt talia visited her on set today. it had been long since non!mc reader had decided to live above water and join the humans. she's an adult now, in her twenties, and a successful young actress at that.

"dearest, you know i don't. we've spoken about this. you're— you're different." talia says in a hesitant tone. these two have tried to figure out the root of non!mc reader's visions, how do they happen, and why they're happening in the first place. but nothing. they have nothing. the only thing they were certain about was the fact that the visions are highly implied to be true. the tales and myths about lemuria align with the visons and flashes.

"perhaps, there is a reason that you, out of everyone, has been bestowed such gift." talia comforts, a gentle pat glides over non!mc reader's shoulder blades.

she could only scoff. "this is no gift. this is a curse."

non!mc reader who falls into shock as she stumbles upon a familiar purple set of hair on a tall figure during a banquet. could it really be— "yn!" her name rolls off his tongue so softly, gently. all so familiar and nostalgic that for a second, non!mc reader forgets that the man whom her love transcended one life over another for had been the cause of her impending doom.

"rafayel?" she minds his presence. he looked a lot older than she'd last seen him. he was a lot taller, his lean figure built stronger with grown muscles, his aura being more elegant and confident. and yet, she questions whether or not he had changed. "what are you— why are you here?"

he tells her that he's settling in linkon for a while. he says that he's got a lot of business advocates and opportunities to stumble upon the city as he pursues his artist career. he then reveals to her that he too had left the sea not long after she had gone, saying something about how the sea's weight felt a little too heavy under ground.

"does it really get easier up above the water?" she throws the question out rhetorically as they find themselves in a secluded seating area of the banquet.

rafayel wasn't dumb. surely, he felt the venomous tone in her voice or the unwelcoming glare from her gaze. he wishes it would be his mind playing tricks on him but the more he stares deeply into her eyes, the more he feels as though something was not right between him and his dearest friend.

"i don't really think so." he replies to her rhetorical question.

one thing about non!mc reader is that she isn't entirely certain that her snarky remark wasn't applicable to her. over the years, she often doubts whether or not trying to escape her home was better for her.

the both of them stare at each other. one pair of eyes gazing at the other's figure filled with confusion and nostalgia. wondering where he went wrong or if he had done something wrong. the other set of eyes staring in regret, unsure of whether or not joy or anger should control her thinking as of the moment.

the silence was louder than ever, until it was interrupted with that even louder ringing in non!mc reader's ears, that stabbing pain becoming stronger— probably the strongest she's ever felt as every fiber of her being was aching.

and yet she was too stubborn to let a slither of her vulnerability and truth slip past the cracks of her facade.

"i have to go." she tries to say confidently or rather, in a more composed way as she stood up, grabbing her purse and clenching her chest with her free hand which earned her a concerned and confused gaze in rafayel's face.

"are you okay? i can take you—"

"im fine, rafayel." she insists, pushing past him as he stood up to reach her.

"it was certainly something to see you again." she coughs out a fake scoff as she takes one step forward, only for a gasp to slip past her lips when her ankles bend, cause her whole body to not only pulse in excruciating pain, but to fall.

she feels the pain take her away from consciousness, a flash of white turning into a silhouette of a younger boy, his hair the same shade of violet as rafayel's, his voice more playful, as the image of her childhood in the prosperous kingdom of lemuria in a previous life takes place in her mind for a while, but the realization did not go unnoticed.

no, it does not get easier above water. as long as gravity exists, the weight of the world will always pull you down to the ground where one must acknowledge the truth.

non!mc reader who realizes that the pain she feels whenever she gets visions started when she left the sea.

she finds herself waking up in a bed of soft silk and fluffy pillows. this wasn't her home, the ambiance was rather softer and cleaner as the sun's rays painted dawn against the windows.

"you're finally awake." she gets taken out of her trance as she turns her head to the doorway, a smiling rafayel leans against the frame of the door. "you good now? maybe next time, don't insist that you're fine when you're not."

"what?" she's confused. she's never passed out from a vision before. sure, at first the pain was unbearable, but years of endurance has built her some kind of immunity or rather, suppressants that makes the ache less painful.

"you had a really high fever last night. what's worse is that, the tides weren't even low. we don't usually get that sick but i guess you're just a bit helpless without me, yeah?" rafayel teases as he brings her a tray of food and medicine. she stares at him in awe, that buried affection for him attempting to break past the cracks, but she does not let it go.

non!mc reader starts to see clearer visions now that rafayel is back in her life. with the added age and maturity, the flashes are longer and less vague. so when the moment a full vision of what happened during the sea god's ceremony played, anger resurfaces her mind.

non!mc reader who swore to avenger herself and lemuria, her beloved land. which is why, when rafayel introduces his new bodyguard, she immediately knew that she was the sea god's bride. that rafayel's miss bodyguard had his heart. literally.

and if it was what's needed to restore lemuria, she would stop at nothing to have it in her hands.

non!mc reader who is staring as the main lead in a new linkon tv series that depicts a tale about an ancient underwater civilization called lemuria. she could only laugh hysterically at her role. was she really playing the role of the sea god's bride? the sole thing she could never be in whatever universe or timeline she was in? oh how destiny loved to mock her.

non!mc reader who asks rafayel for help, feigning vulnerability and saying that she needed his bodyguard too, saying something about her old bodyguard going away for a while, even offering to pay double what rafayel was paying her.

non!mc reader who takes this chance to let her suppressed anger over the centuries and lifetimes that have passed out. it started with complicated coffee orders to fetch then upgraded to delivering her wardrobe, only to accuse miss bodyguard of practically sullying the dress with her reckless actions. in general, just treating her like the worst. miss bodyguard could quit whenever she wanted but rafayel had asked her so persuasively to induldge in non!mc reader's request since she was one of his closest friends.

non!mc reader who gets attacked by one of her visions, the pain stronger than what she assumed was the strongest attack when she met rafayel in that banquet before. what's more severe was that she could practically feel and hear the screams in her more recent visions.

non!mc reader who is sick and tired of suffering the regrets of the past, tired of carrying the weight of a future that is clearly telling her to take responsibility. so, one day, she flat out says to rafayel to do something about lemuria. to take his heart back, to end his people's sufferings. and yet, rafayel, like in all those visions she would see and remember, only replied with the same thing: that there would be other ways.

non!mc reader who damns it all, never stopping at one ask to convince rafayel to take his heart back. every chance she could, she would try to bring it up with rafayel which results into the man questioning his bestfriend's eagerness. she wasn't usually like this. she was never this insistent. despite the rejections, non!mc reader is thankful that rafayel was asked to be an illustrator in her new project because it makes it easier for her to bother him to own up to his responsibilities.

yn lets out an exhausted sigh as she looks at herself in the mirror. this costume was ridiculous, she thinks, as she analyzes the decor of the dress— the director said it would be a close-to-accurate replica of lemurian bridal attires. her top, a delicate yet structured piece, bared her midriff, emphasizing her poise, while bands of gilded accents traced the contours of her shoulders and arms. a flowing sash, transparent like morning mist, hung from her waist, its shimmering fabric embellished with ornate patterns that mirrored ancient symbols of wisdom.

fuck, they were right. it was close to accurate. so much so that non!mc reader starts to pity herself, thinking that the only moment she would have gotten to dress up like a true lemurian bride would be in a show, a fictional, unrealistic series that depicts the story of her beloved and the other woman he had chosen and would choose in every other life.

she steps out of the dressing room, the staffs getting the scene ready as the director yelled out orders. rafayel was with his bodyguard in a corner, discussing with the other illustrators what to do or add into the scene to make it more vibrant.

"it's a wedding scene, it's supposed to be colorful." he rolls his eyes, his bodyguard chuckling in amusement at his sulking. non!mc reader wonders how the producers even got the rafayel to agree to being part of the project. initially, she would've thought that rafayel thinks they would sully the lemurian culture and tale itself and yet, here he was, ever so passionate in the intricate coloring of the set.

"honestly, these people look like they're trying to disrespect the lemurian legacy—" rafayel stops speaking as he turns around, only to be met with non!mc reader in that traditional wedding gown. she looked certainly beautiful in it, he could not deny that. in fact, it looked rather fitting on her, as if she was meant to wear it.

she was currently distracted, practicing her lines with her partner in the show so rafayel's gaze goes unnoticed.

non!mc reader who has to poorly go through a physical and actual demonstration of how the end of lemuria was met because of this stupid show that somehow, got every detail accurately correct.

the way her limbs trembled at the set, the lines, and the impending remembrance of what was to happen after the ceremonial scene in the story. her terror was so obvious that her stutter and shaking figure immediately warned the director and everyone else that something was wrong.

the recreating of the scene in a different perspective terrified her so much, the trauma of reliving that kind of pain and watching it replaying in her mind. the fear was strong enough to trigger another vision, clearer than ever.

"excuse me. i'll be back." she manages to speak, immediately running back to her dressing room to handle the pain all by herself.

non!mc reader who has never told rafayel about the visions. the only person who knew about them were talia and herself. so one could only imagine the feeling brewing in rafayel's guts when rushes to open the door of her dressing room, only to see the actual pain his yn has to go through. all alone. all by herself.

it only then hits him. this must be why she had been so insistent on taking his heart back. this must be why she had left. why she had been so distant— why she acted the way she did.

she was angry at him. albeit, she was literally hurting because of the actions, the bond, the devotion he had sacrificed and given away.

his beloved yn was suffering because of him.

in every universe, he would give his heart to his love, causing him the loss of his kingdom and his entire being. in every universe, non!mc reader has to endure the physical manifestation of the regressing feeling of neglect and abandonment from the one true person that holds her protection in his hands.

in every universe, they were always bound to be met with dead ends.

[leggerefiore]

cw: being attacked by a wild pokemon but no serious injuries, comfort, PLA Ingo, slight angst

pairing: Ingo/Reader

Hisui could be a harsh, inhospitable place. The cold temperatures and bitter winters… The uncharted lands still needing to be developed. It was truly a dangerous place on that front alone… And…

The pokemon were truly wild and completely unused to human presence.

You had come to these lands through means beyond your own comprehension, and found yourself working to survive under the capricious conditions of the Galaxy Team. Your job as a Survey Corps member was to help the professor document the unknown pokemon of these lands. It could be easy… or… Well…

As you laid on the rough terrain beneath you, staring up at the Alpha Graveler, your body shook with heavy breaths. Having been already hit with a rough attack, you were knocked off your feet and ended up in a predicament. Your eyes closed and opened. Your pokeballs had been knocked to the side, just out of reach. Any sudden movements put you more at risk, yet doing nothing had much the same effect. There was no one around. No Security Corps to charge in to aid you – No other Survey Corps member to hear your screams. You watched as it began to stomp, the rocks on the sides of the crevice shaking and falling.

It was truly a mistake to come here alone.

Before you could even bid this world a final farewell, you watched as it picked up a rock to throw at you. Closing your eyes, you only hoped for something painless.

Yet, nothing ever came. A laid cry came from the Graveler, forcing you to open your eyes. A Machamp had punched the rock-type and sent it flying. You watched in bewilderment before footsteps echoed towards you. Whipping your head in their direction, you watched as a familiar Warden approached with your bag and pokeballs in hand. You had never felt such intense relief in your life to see such a man. Getting to your feet a bit shakily, you met him half way. The intensity did have you falling over, however. Ingo caught you, eyes wide by your actions.

“May I ask what were you thinking…?” his voice was loud as ever. Those silver eyes peered right through you. You felt embarrassed for some reason, yet the warmth of him somehow set your mind at ease. The mountain Warden was always a sight for sore eyes. You let out a sigh and nuzzled into his shoulder. The smell of firewood and something appetising stung your nose. A growl from your stomach reminded you that lunch had been long passed over. Ingo's brow cocked up at that. “… Have you not eaten, either?” His Machamp approached you both, tilting its head at the sight.

You shook your head, and Ingo sucked in a breath. It was such a little thing to forget, yet it awoke something in the Warden. He helped you rebalanced yourself. Motioning for you to follow him, you walked through the highlands to his cabin. Whatever meal had been made earlier was still stewing in a pot. Sitting down with him, you eagerly devoured it after he served it in a bowl. The gaze from Ingo went ignored. A sigh left him. “Taking care of yourself is important,” Ingo chided you, “... That situation earlier was quite serious. It disturbs me to think about what could have happened…” His hand tightened into a fist.

You shrunk a bit under his scolding. Somehow, it was far worse than what your captain could deliver. Though, it was far gentler. Sighing, you shifted towards him. His mind suddenly seemed to be elsewhere. You grasped his hand, tracing a callous patch with your thumb. His gaze met your own.

“I'm sorry… My mind went to a strange place,” he shook his head and gripped your hand in return. “I don't want to lose you, dearest,” Ingo leaned into you, his lips hovering above your own, “I feel like you're the last thing I have.”

Those words remained in your mind as you did more and more of your work.

[mamushroomoracorn]

This is not a Anti Palestine Reblog, Zionist go away this is just criticism towards 3rd party to Non-voters of the non afflicted who was trying to show well meaning support, that I think like many others was the worse manner to do so.

As I understand why some third party voters did what they did regarding Gazan genocide that is and was currently happening.

They are valid.

My anger is not directed at Muslims, Arabs, Natives, Palestinians or ethinic groups from countries effected by Isreal terrorism and American government complicity, who these individuals have decided rightfully so making that move to not vote or vote in morality.

Because in this case morality is a question for these people who own folks is effected by this genocidial country and its colonial apartheid state accompanying it.

DNC, Democratic National Committee have lost these people on the argument of "being better choice" when they should of a long time ago drop the AIPAC deals and pressed on Joe Biden.

Zionists is not different much from N_zis for people who is struggling during this horrid event.

But I'm still upset my people(Black) who is also effected by Isreal in our police systems: Is really going to be seared on the skin for "revenge" to "get back at the democratic party" sins.

I have watched overtime, non-black people anti-blackness came out, towards black allies of Palestine for recommending voting for Harris who most reasons is for damage control.

Stating in direct verbal verbatim: "Your oppression doesn't matter. I dont care how opressed you are. If you vote for so and so you're a zionist"

Or "You're voting for a cop, so you must not care."

Which is Belittling. my oppression in the name of ineffective saviorism utterly disgust me to the core hearing statements like this.

Expressly to a nuance situation like voting.

Considering the fact black people don't really have a choice to vote in order to survive like plenty others.

Then of course these fuck ass tankies argue back "What about Jill stein?" Under black progressive posts, Piss me off even harder.

As even reccomending to me Jill Stein in the first place considering the fact she does jack shit other than "exposure", is fucking rude. As if she haven't not using her funds to even grassroot for all these years.

Let alone be president of a nation.

I feel like a lot of third party people who isn't the afflicted I mentioned above. Chosen willful ignorance when even debating she is a "better harris".

Jill wasted pro Palestinian supporters Donors money, she have isreali family and had donations from companies like Amazon, IBM and other pro Isreal companies.

Now they are flip flopping to:

"America is going to a fascist state anyways so why trying saving it? Let it burn." As if my people hard work we done brick by brick for 60+ years in civil affairs to protect our youth is NOT crumbling in front of my eyes.

I feel like I'm being gaslit by all these "leftists" about their wash out version of evangelical doomsday.

About the fact that they REALLY "didn't" went anti-strategic voting. Towards everyone expressly black voters.

Calling them liberals and zionists like I stated above and why that is extremely ignorant in nature.

Even trying to explain to them this isn't just about gazans life and homes at risk if you let these Neo-Nazis win.

It was your own very effectiveness to even protest in the first place.

.

Due to their very real inflicted trauma (that I can empathize with) they got it from seeing such horrors. They actively tone that shit out, being racist even in their response which is inexcusable in my eyes.

But inflicting their own trauma everyone else as a "final button" when there was so options to approach the situation instead of nurturing their emotional state by using a crucial election to do so to express their hurt.

When that should of been left alone to the afflicted groups.

This is not the "stick to the system" moment they thought it was. Since rich politicians won't be affected, their stock is in AIPAC so DonaldTrump winning would of just made them richer anyways.

Only the result is your allies will be compromised.

The highest group being minorities, and loudly verbally black people.

Which I already seen black people LEAVING to focus on their own community for the hellish mourning upcoming years because people decided voting effectively didn't matter.

"It's all about morality" I'm doubting it as I think it is just trauma, obviously only leaving alone afflicted groups because actions speak more than words or symbolism to case to case person.

As we seen during the failed BLM protests due to such actions like "Third party voters guilt mentality" Instead of effective action that WILL do both mortality and progress.

People was doing black boxes, painting their skin half black, advocating for black people over our own voices instead of elevating it, spamming people comments.

Yet again not listening to black voices in grassrooting but instead doing vote blue no matter who or offering Jill Stein.

That we eventually have to adopt anyways by force due to the face yet again non-black people decided to that.

Which landed in a situation like the 2024 election where turns out not taking action in primaries and midterms does have consequences where eventually YES you had to vote for the lesser evil.

It was fucking stupid how we got to the point in the 2024, yet again due to non voters/third parties.

When really the best course of action YEARS PRIOR was to vote in these elections and pay attention to the candidates. Promote others within your towns or cities through donation and having those special elections enacted by the people to make it harder for lobbying to happen on a state level to HAVE POWER to prevent such horrors like the Gazan Genocide.

But what was people doing? Stating theory, debating, and thinking we was safe in a way to get our voices considered when that could of been put in action in the first place to have that safety come in fruition.

Black people vote like they are buying time, because they are! We are buying time to put in more actual safe guards through law because takes time.

We use that time to take care our inner traumas not to be effected when tragedy strikes and move in effective manners.

Most non-black people have the privileges(not anymore) to ignore this due to our labor in the power of strategically voting.

Black people feel extreme uneasiness for a fucking reason when non-black people get in our black business about voting when we literally fundamentally don't have choices in this damn country.

Allies or not:

This election and the ones prior reflect that, as so much was at stake that I could only speak for myself on as a black person but I know many others who aren't my people was going to be effected.

These people decided even though most black people live in the Bible belt. Decided to reflect themselves(who is not the afflicted groups) really badly in the eyes of plenty of black people non-surprisingly during this election.

By not showing at least empathy for those also effected by Isreal in heavy policed states that will kill you even if you are a innocent, a child, a mother, a father, a grandparent, or a disabled.

They decided to withdrawl empathy twisting the arms of people who helped them by stating they are part of the problem.

For voting for a chance for everyone life despite the rest of the group beyond the afflicted. Only others pride is only going to be effected since those people stated themselves "both parties is the same".

Despite the major differences that they are now seeing now, afraid like we warn them.

A problem that been also oppressing us, A problem that is 80+ years that is both parties. An massive systematic issue that have barely any control in our hands, but only those cherry picked in position that doesn't speak for the community.

We are not a monolith, We are not a hive mind, We black people is not a entity.

We are a group with rich culture here in the US that values history. We are Poets, Artists, and Historians.

We are inventors, we are political scientists.

We barely vote third for a reason and now we are seeing it, being effected, choked out due to others own disregard.

Why are we finding out for others actions[lack there of]

I'm tired of it, I'm tired of my people being body shields then cast away by my "allies".

This isn't just about black people in the US it is about the Haitians, the Congolese and those who are black or dark skinned that Is forgotten.

When will my people be free from the years of imperialism? We busted our asses helping putting down our own problems and got the short end of the stick.

Due to the HELP of traumatized white teens and mourning white women deciding the day is to make doomsday a sacrifice for "All American sinners" and make a morality vote. Thinking in their own racial bias black people are men of steel.

Then of course people thinking life should be put under eggs.

But this post is about the hand these people played alongside many others who done my people dirty.

Putting us in very dangerous hands, ignoring their own hands in it the seeping bucket of blood that is soon to come.

Slavery wasn't even solve and it is going to get worse. All that progress because people thought effectiveness of voting for nothing.

Good job you guys fell into the systematic hands of the conservative parties as they wanted you to do that.

[exitrowiron]

My DEI Experience

The very public cancelations of DEI programs got me thinking about my experience as the Executive Sponsor of a DEI program at a major global software company a few years ago.

There were several DEI groups (ex. LGBTQ, Pan-Asians, Blacks, etc.) and I was sponsor for the Black group. It was an enlightening experience for me and I'm proud that I helped many members secure interviews for internal positions and several were promoted.

My company's DEI program didn't have any hiring quotas, instead it was more of a networking and training opportunity for DEI members to share their experiences, learn some new skills and get exposure to sr. executives and hopefully secure the executive's support and encouragement.

As the sponsor of the DEI program, I couldn't help but acknowledge the advantages I'd enjoyed throughout my career as a tall white-guy, with similar tall white-guy professionals as family members. When graduating from Indiana University in 1989, I went to work at Price Waterhouse in St. Louis, the same office my Dad worked at when he graduated from college 25 years prior. I met all the hiring criteria (GPA, interviews etc.) and passed the CPA exam, etc. so the decision to hire me wasn't a favor to my Dad, but it certainly didn't hurt that a few of the partners knew my name and if nothing else, I didn't have imposter syndrome. My Dad had done this job and nearly everyone else doing the job looked like me as did almost everyone in sr. mgt.

My second job was with a company that employed my father-in-law. I don't think that influenced the decision to hire me, but it certainly didn't hurt. At this second company I entered the industry where I spent my career, much of it working for a guy who had attended my wedding as a guest of my in-laws. I'm confident that any of my colleagues would agree that I excelled in my various roles, but having those initial personal connections didn't hurt and there were other candidates and colleagues without the benefit of my network by birth and marriage. Through it all, I recognize that I looked like the hiring manager and the last person to have the job I was seeking.

One of the most enriching aspects of my DEI experience was gaining an understanding of how being a minority introduces an entirely new suite of uncertainties. On the rare occasion I received a less than stellar performance review or was passed over for a promotion, I never considered that my race/gender/sexual orientation might be the reason. But the conversations with my DEI colleagues confirmed that this is ALWAYS in the back of their mind, especially working for an overwhelmingly white company. Every colleague could cite examples of overt, incontrovertible racism they'd experienced (not necessarily at the company) which had made them question whether quiet racism was influencing their experience at our company. For example, was their supervisor just generally a jerk, or was the supervisor especially unpleasant to the employee because of her race, gender, etc.? If you've been on the receiving end of maltreatment, it can be difficult to be objective.

My role as the DEI sponsor was pretty straightforward. I did basic things like help critique resumes and provide interview coaching. I encouraged the candidates to overcome their imposter syndrome and apply for aspirational positions. Most importantly, I tried to be the networking resource they lacked. I sent notes and arranged brief phone calls with hiring managers to introduce the candidate. I was very careful not to inadvertently pressure the hiring manager (I know that just receiving an email from me created anxiety). I simply asked that the hiring manager/interviewer give the candidate an interview. I'm proud that my DEI group experienced above-average promotion velocity in the company.

Americans love to celebrate the 'pull yourself up by your bootstraps' story and white males especially want to believe that they are self made men. DEI programs can be challenging for guys like me because it can cause introspection which is humbling. It requires a person to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe you had some help along the way or at a minimum, you didn't face the external and internal obstacles of other candidates who may have been just as smart and capable. It is humbling to admit that at the very least, you benefitted from the fact that you looked like the last person who did the job; that's why I think white males are so intent on dismantling DEI programs.

[sallykie]

I've decided. I don't like the HTTYD movie sequels' xenophobia era. I don't think the themes should have gone that way.

[peachznscream]

genunely sometimes do not know how to cope with the world being so cold and bureacratic and people who withold care and essential rights to people over arbitrary rules and money and

[leliwardens]

ah...thank you kindly for sharing all of this.

@exhausted-archivist hi this is its own post now

what do you mean cut rescue mission.

[malachitezmeyka]

Last thing I expected to do today was spend 10 minutes arguing with my grandma over a cat that's been dead for nearly a decade and yet here we are

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Hot take

Night furies are actually perfectly evolved for hunting and killing other dragons and the only reason they aren't a dragon-hunting species like the death song or deathgrippers are is because DreamWorks couldn't have their adorable main character dragon be a "cannibal"

(below I'm gonna try to summarize what we've figured out in a convo with friends on discord)

(also tw animal death via predator)

First of all yes I'm aware that pretty much every decision made about their design was with consideration of the effect it would make on human audiences but hear me out

Night furies are most iconically known as dive-bombers. They are built for speed, high maneuverability, night-time camouflage and for striking targets from above. If we remove human settlements out of the equation (which would not have existed long enough to actually influence night fury evolution, come on), what does that leave us with?

They aren't built for catching fish for sure, they aren't very hydrodynamic and their head is round, wide, and their teeth are dull. Honestly, the monstrous nightmare is much better suited for catching fish, with its long neck, almost pelican-like jaw and rhamphorhynchus teeth

Compare to

Yeah the jaws look kinda like a porpoise of some sort but for that the whole body would have to be a lot more aquatic imo. The light fury looks a lot closer to an aquatic diver, it has a sleeker body, rounded fins instead of spikes, and a long neck.

I don't really see them hunting land animals either, they just don't look like they're adapted for that minus the resemblance with large felines and even then, they're too large to effectively hunt in forests.

The one thing I can kinda imagine them hunting is large mainland megafauna, but we're working with a setting that takes place pretty much exclusively on islands. And overall, dragons are the only abundant species there with the exception of fish and human-bred sheep and chickens.

In general, night furies have duller teeth, smaller claws and are smaller than most dragons. Disregarding the movies making Toothless weirdly OP, a night fury would be disadvantaged against most dragons in a 1v1 fight and besides, it has four huge weak spots that would highly discourage it from a direct physical fight - the primary and secondary tail fins. One unlucky rip in the membrane and the night fury is fucked.

The night fury however noticeably resembles falcons, given their dive-bombing ability and high maneuverability.

Falcons too have smaller beaks and weaker claws compared to most birds of prey, and for that they compensate by simply picking up speed, balling up their talons and Punching. Really. Hard.

And they use that ability to kill other birds, even much larger ones, by knocking them right from the sky.

Here, the night fury's plasma blast works the same way as a falcon's punch. Dragons are fire-resistant, so what the plasma blast does is really just a densely packed bolt of energy that has the effect of either stunning or outright killing prey by damaging its spine. And what the plasma bolt doesn't do, rapid contact with the ground would finish. And if even that doesn't do it, the night fury's wide jaws and dull teeth are just fine for simply clamping around the unlucky dragon's neck and strangling it, like a lion or a pitbull.

The night-time camouflage allows the night fury to soar for extended periods of time perfectly unnoticed in the night sky, and by the time it strikes, the dragon wouldn't even know what's coming.

Unless

Say the hunting night fury is aware of other dragons sleeping under the trees, as most dragons probably would at night (village raids aside, most dragons seem to be diurnal), so how does the night fury get them in position where it can use its signature attack? Well, there's That Iconic Screech Of Death. Since in the movies it tends to appear not just during dive-bombings but also when charging up a blast, I imagine it's something the night fury is able to control to some degree. So by simply fake-diving in close proximity to sleeping dragons, it can effectively terrify them into leaving their hideout and fly out into the open where it can easily take them out.

I dunno, the possibility of night furies as predators to other dragons just makes so much sense to me, I really don't know what other reasons there would be for them to evolve these particular adaptations.

And one more little headcanon to add to this whole rant - since night furies are significantly smaller and less equipped for dragon vs dragon fights and are primarily speed-based predators, I imagine there is this very likely scenario:

There is one dragon who resembles a hyena, a lil bit

Ok, rant over

[msunitedstatesjames]

I've touched on this in a couple of other semi-related posts before, but I find it hilarious and I appreciate how much Johanna Hezenkoss thinks Emmrich is the protagonist of Veilguard. Like, this woman could not give less of a fuck about Rook. She almost always refers to Rook only by their relationship to Emmrich. She refers to Rook as "one of Volkarin's hangers-on," "that impudent whelp following [Emmrich] around," "Volkarin's companion," and as Emmrich's "paramour." None of these imply that she thinks Rook has much agency. Instead, she acts like Rook is just helplessly following Emmrich around like a puppy, helping him complete tasks (which I guess is partly true).

If Rook romances Emmrich, Hezenkoss assumes that Emmrich seduced Rook and not the other way around, even though Emmrich is noticeably older than Rook and has hardly left the Necropolis in years. She's seemingly amazed by it, and yet it never once crosses her mind that Rook might have initiated the relationship (which is actually the case).

She also refers to Emmrich as the one who destroyed her construct, which is technically true, but she ignores the major assistance he had from Rook, another companion, and most notably Manfred. He couldn't have pulled it off without their help, and had in fact given up, but Hezenkoss acts like Emmrich was her sole opponent in that battle.

I've said before that part of the reason for this is that Hezenkoss seems to think of herself as the main villain of the story, so Emmrich must be the main hero. Hezenkoss says that some of the other big bads of Dragon Age, the Venatori, were nothing more to her than slightly useful and genuinely annoying. She clearly thinks herself above an entire organization of some of the most powerful mages in the world. And she sees Emmrich as pretty close to her in terms of raw power, since she almost invited him to her Vengeance Party but ultimately decided he was too much of a danger to her plans. She also states that she tried to get him to join her in the past, which I don't think she would do for anyone she considered to be less than her equal. Emmrich is genuinely the only person in the game she shows any respect for. Though she mocks his age and finds him to be too sentimental, too moral, and too fearful, she shows signs of agreeing with him on some topics, and she obviously respects his abilities if nothing else. No one else in the game acknowledges his frankly ridiculous knowledge and skill level (except Solas in the end) as much as Hezenkoss does.

And really, Emmrich does have main character energy. Though he does have some age and mortality related fears, dude is overflowing with confidence. When you first meet him, looking for a Fade expert, he has absolutely no problem telling you he's the best possible person for the job. Though he apparently hasn't left the Necropolis in years, he's totally down to join the team and go anywhere you want him to go. If you romance him, he is initially surprised, but he quickly turns into the smoothest dude around, and throughout the game you can hear him comment on some of his many relationships through the years. He's well-dressed, well-spoken, charismatic, highly educated, unfailingly kind, extremely powerful, and he's done so well for himself that Harding mistakes the son of a butcher and a cook for a member of the Nevarran nobility. No wonder Hezenkoss thinks he's the protagonist. The real protagonist is just out here winging it on guts and good luck alone.

[datwinky]

Reasons I'll like but not reblog an artist's art:

1. I am, it's just in a queue

2. It's art I really like, I just don't want it on my blog (which is just an archive for posts I want to go back and look at later)

3. It's something I like but don't really understand the context of like a fandom I'm unfamiliar with or OCs and don't want to reblog because it makes tagging difficult which messes up my organization

4. It would go on a blog (either main or side) where I have no followers and don't have the blog TO gain followers or communicate with and it literally would not spread to anyone for that reason

5. I've been on this site for 8 years and even then have memory issues and use likes as a way to mark what posts I have and haven't already seen/reblogged

6. And the one you want to hear the least: yeah. Sometimes art is nice enough for a like but not a reblog. It's called preferences. It's not a matter of technical skill or effort put into the piece or fandom they're not in or whatever. Sometimes you just don't vibe with something that much. That is NORMAL. A like and no reblog there shows, at least for me, "hey I can appreciate the concept behind it/technical skill/etc" but I won't reblog because for some other reason I just don't like it enough to have it on my blog. If the idea that not everyone will like your art enough to show it around to your friends is that big of a blow to your ego then you need to stop posting it because that is EXTREMELY unhealthy. It does you no good and only serves to ruin your relationship with your art. Stop

I have had it with this likescolding. “Tumblr doesn’t have an algorithm so likes don’t actually do anything” motherfucker I am not clicking that heart to give some post better ~algorithmic visibility~ I am clicking that heart to help my internet friend microdose on serotonin as god fucking intended

[ribbonprincess]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.

"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."

He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.

"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."

Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.

꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦

As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"

Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.

"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.

"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."

Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"

Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."

Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"

[churipu]

STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.

note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.

"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.

"satoru . . ."

"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.

gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.

god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.

"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.

gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"

"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.

frankly, it's haunting.

out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.

"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."

there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."

"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.

"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.

"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."

"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."

and everything ended right after. including you.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[hannieehaee]

TRAINING SEASON

18+ / mdi

summary: unfortunately for vernon, all his friends were gym bros, leading to constant harassment for him to join the lifestyle. after weeks of twelve men constantly bugging at him to accompany them, all it takes is one girl for vernon to finally give in.

content: strangers2friends2lovers!vernon, fitness!reader, vernon's kind of a loser here, reader is friends with the other 12, vernon's not into fitness, downbad!vernon, reader is implied to be into fitness but her body's not really described in any specific way, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, handjob, kind of sub!vernon, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.3k

a/n: not really sure why i keep writing vernon like a loser with no game lol im sure in real life he's got a ton of game lets just pretend he doesnt<3

masterlist

"C'mon, Nonnie. Come with us. Just this once."

"You don't even have to work out, we just want-"

"No, if I have to work out, he has to work out. You guys have been dragging me with you to engage in your masochist tendencies for weeks. He deserves the same treatment."

Vernon simply groaned at all the noise, uncaring of what Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan were saying, respectively. Instead, he opted to cover his face with a pillow, attempting to muffle all the noise his friends were making so early in the morning.

Then suddenly, the comfort of his blanket left him, followed by his pillow being pulled from his hold and used to deliver a swift smack against his head before being whisked away and landing on the opposite side of the room.

One more, he groaned, but this time louder. His eyes opened to find the culprit standing above him, squinting due to the sudden surge of sunlight into his vision at having opened his eyes.

"Dude, stop being a lazy piece of shit and come with us," nagged Joshua.

God, how many of them were in his apartment? It was supposed to be just him and Seungkwan who lived here, where did the rest come from?

"What time is it?" he finally grumbled out, sitting up. It's not like he had any options anyway.

"It's 9:16 in the morning," informed him Wonwoo from outside his bedroom. God, was he here too?

"Why are all of you in my apartment? Seungkwan, we agreed that-"

"We all have keys, you idiot. Now get up. We're going to the gym," this time it was Chan.

"Do all twelve of you go to the same gym at the same time? God, they must hate you."

Vernon finally sat up against his headboard, head counting a total of five of his friends currently in his room, assuming the rest to be either in his kitchen or living room.

God damn you, Boo Seungkwan.

"We're pretty well liked, actually."

A few of the members nodded along to Mingyu's rebuttal.

Yeah, that made sense. Twelve muscly and more than objectively attractive men were likely magnets for clientele over at the gym.

All the more reason to not join them.

All his friends were fitness addicts (sans Jeonghan, maybe). Simply gym bros who had developed what Vernon liked to call an unhealthy habit to exercise — despite how ironic that statement sounded. Vernon, on the other hand, had never been one to put too much emphasis on fitness. He liked his build as it was; some slightly toned muscle and a slim frame. He never really saw any need to bulk up like most of his friends, so he never gained an interest for it.

Yet his friends had tried to convince him to join them, time and time again.

Jeonghan had been the one other friend they had to convince to join them. Other than Vernon, Jeonghan was the only other member of their large friend group who had a proclivity against the gym. But his love for spending time with his friends had won him over, making him tag along just for the mere purpose of not feeling FOMO.

Now, Vernon did not have that issue. He didn't mind missing out on hang outs. He was a pretty lowkey, chill guy. Staying at home unless it was vital for him to leave, now that was more up his alley.

Except now he had twelve men nagging at him to get up, put on some basketball shorts and a flimsy tank top and join them at their gym. It had been a few weeks of this insistence, leading to this moment — all his friends breaking into his and Seungkwan's apartment in order to drag him out.

And the sad thing was that it worked. Apparently it took twenty-three consecutive days of bugging at Vernon to convince him of doing something he didn't want to do for him to budge. He hoped this didn't become some sort of pattern.

~

Vernon felt out of place.

All his friends had arrived in extremely casual fashion, immediately comfortable in the familiar environment and dispersing themselves in their respective smaller groups.

Meanwhile, even after half an hour of being there, Vernon felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.

The agreement they'd settled on was that Vernon would try out the gym. If he didn't like it, — more like, if he truly despised it, in Seungcheol's words — they all agreed to leave him alone (other than Jeonghan, who insisted he'd move into his closet and haunt him until he came back).

So, really all Vernon had to do was hang out for an hour or two and then let his friends down easy.

It should've been easy enough considering how out of place he felt surrounded by other unfamiliar gym bros in their natural habitat.

"Dude, at least try not to look like you have no idea what a gym is."

His thoughts were interrupted by Mingyu who suddenly materialized next to him.

"Huh?"

"You've been standing here staring into the distance for five minutes. Here, just follow me. I just finished my cardio You can do arms with me and Seok today."

The statement felt like a threat. Looking at Mingyu, at his muscles, was enough to tire Vernon out. Was he supposed to keep up with that?

Still, Vernon shrugged to himself and followed after Mingyu. Something which he regretted soon after realizing it'd take an entire flight of stairs to get to what he presumed to be the area of the gym where they usually did arms. There, he found Seokmin and Chan, seemingly already in the middle of some set of some workout while Jeonghan sat on a bench press with a coffee in hand.

"You're actually gonna work out? I thought you'd just go to the spa room," commented Jeonghan upon spotting him approaching.

"There's a spa here? Sick."

"And you can use it after a few sets with me. Follow me, let's go figure out how much you can lift," once again, Vernon began to trail after Mingyu towards the stack of dumbbells on a mirrored wall nearby.

"Oh, Y/N was looking for you earlier, by the way," Seokmin stopped Mingyu before he could walk away.

"Y/N? What for?"

"Your bet, you idiot. She said she can bench press 80 pounds now. You owe her $50," interjected Chan, setting down the two dumbbells he'd been holding.

"Nah, no way," Mingyu crossed his arms, "Where's she at?"

"Are we going to get the weights or-"

"Hold on, 'Sol," Gyu interrupted him, "I have something to settle."

"She just went to fill up her water. She should be back soon," added Seokmin.

"Who's Y/N?", Vernon asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", snickered Jeonghan.

"What does that even me-"

"Chan, just hand me those weights. Vernon should be able to lift those," Mingyu reached over to Chan, grabbing the dumbbells he'd been using with an ease that made it seem like they were weightless.

But this theory proved to be wrong the moment Mingyu attempted to hand them over to an unsuspecting Vernon. Embarrassingly enough, the most predictable thing happened.

But what was most embarrassing was the timing. Suddenly the main character of the conversation showed up, just as Vernon's hands failed to hold onto the heavy weights, dropping them at his feet and barely missing a hospital visit by a few inches. His hands had stupidly attempted to catch them mid flight, but it only resulted in him almost falling over, body now bent down as he caught himself before falling.

That's when he saw an unfamiliar pair of converse standing in front of him.

"Hey- oh, shit!" were the first words he heard from you just as he created the biggest clanking sound resonating through the entire floor.

Looking up with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment on his face, he found you standing right in front of him. Like his own, your expression showed surprise, though he also found amusement in it. In any other situation, he may have laughed along with you (and the rest of his friends who he heard cackling from behind him), but this instance was different.

Because Vernon hadn't expected for a girl his friends had merely mentioned in passing to look like you. Makeup-less and in some worn band shirt with some tiny spandex underneath, you had Vernon's mouth catching flies.

Vernon didn't have a type. Was never one to care for appearances too much. But he suddenly found himself gulping at the sight in front of him. Your eyes stated down at him with some sort of wonder, and he felt a sickly feeling in him that told him he wanted them on him at all times from then on — even if it was due to something embarrassing he'd done.

An incredibly out of character thought for Vernon to have, but here he was.

Instead of picking up the dumbbells he'd stupidly dropped and introducing himself as he usually would've done, his brain malfunctioned along with his body. Losing balance as he straightened himself up, he stammered out what he believed to be a greeting (though he wasn't too sure; he was too distracted by you) while Mingyu offered him support to properly stand.

"Hi?", you responded, "Sorry, was that my fault?", you turned to the other members with slight concern.

A soft slapping sound resounded as Mingyu patted Vernon on the back, chuckling over at your concerned expression.

"Nah, you're fine. Vernon's hand-eye coordination just isn't that good."

"Dude, you handed me like a hundred pounds with no warning!", Vernon recoiled from his touch, attempting to save some of his dignity.

"That was just forty on each dumbbell actually," corrected Chan.

Vernon groaned internally.

Thank you, Chan. Make him look like even more of a wimp than he already did.

"Uh, anyways. Hi, I'm Vernon," he extended his hand out dumbly.

"Oh, you're Vernon?," your hand squeezed his own (a feeling which Vernon would have to get back to later), "I've been looking forward to meeting you," you smiled before letting go.

"Uh, what?"

He was really killing it today.

"What Hansolie here means to say is, it's nice to meet you too," Mingyu interjected, "Now, onto more important matters - I want evidence," he said in reference to the previous subject.

"Not even a 'hello'? Not even gonna let me get to know your friend?", you looked over at him with a grin that Vernon was too flustered to return.

Before he could even consider interjecting, Mingyu grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you over to the bench press Jeonghan had been sitting on to demonstrate the skill Seokmin had declared you'd been looking to show off to Mingyu. Jeonghan got up as soon as you approached, giving you a grin that told Vernon you were familiar with each other before walking over to where Vernon was standing. He seemed to always keep some distance between himself and any actual exercise. Respectable.

Without even needing to be asked, Seokmin and Chan stood nearby, ready to spot you in case it were necessary while Mingyu helped you load the weights onto the bar.

"So. She's cute, huh?", Jeonghan leaned over to Vernon's side, voice low to ensure the others didn't hear.

"Huh?"

"Y/N. She's really pretty, isn't she?"

"Dude, shut up."

The elder simply snickered, going back to slurping at the basically empty cup of iced coffee he'd been nursing this entire time.

Vernon continued watching you, spacing out from any commentary the other boys had been giving you as you began a set, instead solely focused on you.

As you laid on the bench, your shirt rode up, exposing the tiniest spandex shorts that dug into the muscle hidden under them. Your back arched in order to lift the weighted bar, giving him perfect sight of your silhouette despite the baggy shirt you had on.

God, your body was sculpted ridiculously. Your body was toned, which showed through perfectly from the position you were currently in. The sweat dampening your clothes didn't help matters either.

Vernon wasn't one to thirst on a random Tuesday afternoon, yet here he was, eyes glued to you as if he hadn't just met you. He might've felt more guilty, but both you and his friends were too distracted to notice him, so he let himself indulge this one time.

But then Jeonghan interrupted again.

"Are you sure you don't think she's pretty?", he snickered.

"Fuck, fine! Yes, she's obviously very pretty. What do you want?", he took his eyes away from you to face the manifestation of annoying standing next to him, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Nothing. I was just wondering," he shrugged, lying through his teeth.

Meanwhile, two of his other friends were cheering you on while Mingyu half-heartedly attempted at trash talking you into failing. Even as you carried what to Vernon was incomprehensible weight, you cursed out at Mingyu, something which Vernon appreciated.

Fuck. You were cool.

You were pretty, clearly very confident, strong, got along with his friends, and just incredibly cool. And Vernon had only known you for like ten minutes.

Was this a crush? Did he have a crush on a girl he'd just met?

He was 26. Crushes were so high school, what the hell was happening to him?

"Dude, are you blushing?"

"Han, I swear to god-"

"Oh my god, you are!", the way his eyes lit up at the realization was like it was christmas morning to him. Jeonghan had a strange fascination with mischief Vernon never really understood.

"Who's blushing?"

And suddenly there was another presence next to him, coming to a halt to watch you on what was now your second set of bench presses.

"Nonnie's in love," Jeonghan snickered.

"Shit, with who? Wait, don't tell me," Hoshi stopped for a second to ponder before shaking his head as he gave up, "Never mind. Tell me."

Vernon shook his head. He was friends with idiots.

"Y/N!"

"Dude, not so loud!", Vernon's eyes widened, face only going back to its natural poker face when he noticed you were still being entertained by his three loud friends.

"Dude, wait, that makes sense. They'd make the perfect couple," Hoshi gasped at the revelation., "They're both movie freaks and couch potatoes. But Y/N's way cooler than Vernon," he added.

Jeonghan nodded along in agreement.

You were into movies? You didn't give him the vibe of a couch potato, though. I mean, you were lying there, immense weight on your hands as you challenged the biggest gym buff he knew.

Vernon was about to question them on this assessment. They'd clearly thought about this before, which he wasn't sure whether it was good news for his newfound crush or not. But before he could at least complain at the slight thrown at him, he heard cheering from the spot where he'd been watching you, finally turning back to face you.

"Dude, three sets of eighty pounds with your frame? You're crazy. You might actually be stronger than Mingyu," Seokmin praised you as he offered up a high-five.

"I can do 200 pounds-"

"But you're a tree. It doesn't count," Chan disregarded him, instead choosing to join Seokmin in dapping you up.

Vernon hadn't noticed as he watched you, but Hoshi and Jeonghan had also joined in, leaving him alone in watching you from a small distance away. He went back to feeling kind of out of place.

But he liked seeing his friends with you. It was odd. He'd met many of his friends' friends, but he always felt entirely indifferent about them.

You were different. Vernon felt himself smiling as he watched you snatch the $50 from Mingyu's hand and turn to Hoshi and Jeonghan with a triumphant smile on your face.

And then you looked past them, spotting him and walking the few steps over to him.

"So, gonna congratulate me, new guy?"

He scoffed in amusement.

"I'm new?"

"Here? Clearly. I have seniority at this gym. Now, be a gentleman and congratulate me on robbing your friend of $50."

Vernon couldn't help but return your satisfied smile. You were fun.

"Congrats. Well deserved," he chose to say. He needed to remain nonchalant after his earlier embarrassment.

"Now, c'mon. I'm buying everyone something from the snack bar to celebrate Gyu's defeat," you turned back to head over to the guys, Vernon now following along.

"Fifty's probably not gonna be enough for six people-", someone spoke, Vernon wasn't sure who, too focused on walking by your side.

"It's fine. Gyu'll pay the difference," you shrugged.

"Hey!"

Were you into him? Were you into Mingyu?

You'd been pretty friendly with all his friends that day, but it was impossible not to notice the special attention you paid to Mingyu. But then again, who didn't have a soft spot for Mingyu?

There was no indication you liked him, or that he'd even left some sort of impression on you. If anything, you probably remembered him as the idiot who almost took out both your and his foot. Or maybe as the dumbass who couldn't lift the measly forty-pound dumbbells Chan had been carrying with ease.

Meanwhile, you'd looked for Mingyu, looking far too happy to tease him and take his money.

Maybe Vernon was behind on the current dating world, but the two of you gave him more-than-friends vibes.

But then again, Mingyu held a flirtationship with literally everyone who came into his vicinity. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd at some point flirted with him without realizing it. Except this was an instance in which Vernon needed to be sure before he made a move. Not that he was too scared to do it or anything ...

Sadly for Vernon, he had been too much of a wuss to ask Mingyu about you directly, so he went for someone who he hoped wouldn't tease him.

"So, uhm, do you know Y/N?"

God, he sounded so needy. He was usually smoother than this. He had game. Right?

He'd decided that Joshua his safest bet. He was the only one out of all the guys who could maybe be normal about his curiosity about you.

Joshua could only chuckle at him. His eyes were too focused on scooping at the remnants of the fro-yo Vernon had bought him under the pretense of just hanging out. Casual.

"So you've met. You like her, huh?"

"Dude, what is this? Why does everyone keep asking me that? We've met once," Vernon frowned.

Was he that easy to read?

Joshua shrugged, "She seems like your type. She's single too."

"She is?"

"So you are interested," Joshua grinned.

He groaned. Did all his friends have to be such instigators? Men were the nosier gender, he was sure.

"Listen-"

"It's fine, 'Sol. I don't judge you. She's very pretty. Fun too."

"You talked to Jeonghan, didn't you?"

"Yeah. He told me you almost broke your foot in front of her and proceeded to fuck her with your eyes for like ten minutes straight. Not your finest moment."

Maybe Vernon's memory was failing him, but he was pretty sure those weren't the actual events that happened. Sure, he'd made the entire situation way more embarrassing in his head, but it hadn't been that bad. Right?

"I did not eye-fuck her," he rebutted, "I checked her out. I don't think she really noticed, though."

"Is that good? Wouldn't you rather just ask her out?"

"Uh, am I even her type?", Vernon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he reclined back on his chair, "She seemed to be kind of into Mingyu."

"Dude."

"Listen, it's just-"

"Mingyu just has that effect on people. They don't like each other. Not like that. They're just friends," clarified Joshua, "We all met when we started going to this gym last May. She just became closest to Gyu and Kyeom cause they practically live there."

"So they've never ..."

"No, man, I swear. You can ask Gyu. Or better yet, ask her out,."

"It's not that easy!", Vernon grumbled, hand crumbling the fro-yo container in his hand.

"Why not? You've never had trouble with girls. That's Channie. He's a mess," Josh chuckled.

There was just something about you. Vernon had never become this infatuated with someone. It was kind of embarrassing.

"She just ... She makes me nervous for some reason," Vernon admitted, "She's friends with all my best friends and I never even knew about her. She's funny and cool and confident, and-"

"And she's hot," finished Joshua for him.

"She's so fucking hot, man," Vernon groaned as Joshua chuckled.

"So, what, do you think she's out of your league or something?"

"Maybe? You tell me. I need an objective opinion," Vernon said with more seriousness than intended.

Joshua pretended to mull over it, hand scratching at chin as he started up to contemplate it up until Vernon groaned at him to stop.

"Dude, you're such an idiot. I'm not answering that. Just ask her out!"

All Joshua received in response was a muffled groan as Vernon let himself fall back on his chair. The dramatics felt necessary to him at that moment.

"So, are you going to keep going to the gym?", Joshua laughed at his friend.

"I'm a man on a mission."

"Lost?"

"Fuck! Wh- Oh, shit, hi. Sorry, you scared me," Vernon's hand clutched at his chest in surprise, ears slightly red in embarrassment.

Did he really have to embarrass himself every time he saw you?

"Sorry I keep catching you off guard," you chuckled, "You just looked kind of lost. You've been staring into space for the past three minutes."

"Oh, uh, right. It's only my second time here. I'm not sure where all the guys went," he mumbled.

Now facing you, he tried to take quick note of your appearance. You'd come from the opposite direction as him, meaning you'd likely only gotten here just now. That explained the lack of sweat and your pristine hair, as opposed to last time. It made him wonder what you looked like on a regular basis, outside of the context of the gym.

"Right. Well, they usually go to the basketball court on Sundays, so most of them are probably there now. I hate playing sports with Han and Boo, so I usually just avoid them," you explained.

You seemed to have a great hold on his friends' gym lifestyle.

"We could go look for them," you began, "Or we could hang out on our own."

You smiled at him expectantly. It was a cute and innocent smile, as if you'd been hoping for an opportunity to get him alone.

"Do you, uh, do you mean in the gym?"

You nodded, "C'mon. I'm sure none of the guys actually showed you around, did they?", he shook his head, "Men suck. I'll give you a tour, y'know since you're new," you extended your hand out to him, eyes expectant.

With no time (nor dignity) to wipe his hand of any possible sweat, he grabbed onto your own, gulping at your hold.

This was moving faster than he thought. But then again, you probably just felt comfortable around him due to his association with the rest of your friends. It must be that.

Once you made it out of the general area of the gym, you let go of his hand, now opting for walking side by side instead. The place was quite spacious, so it gave more than enough room for the two of you to take your time walking without getting into anyone's ways. Not that Vernon wanted to extend his time with you as much as possible or anything.

"So, how come you've never been here before?", you suddenly asked whilst showing him what you'd donned as the 'poser gym buff' part of the gym. It looked like it, considering it was filled with shirtless muscular men, all ignoring the blatant 'No Nudity Allowed' sign you'd just walked by.

"Uh, before I answer that - How much did the guys tell you about me?"

You chuckled, "Just, stuff. I'd rather hear it from you, though."

Then you smiled at him again. As if you had no idea it messed with his brain chemistry.

"Just, uhm, not really a gym guy like the other guys. Not sporty, like at all. Always got hit by balls in P.E. Kwan drags me to street basketball matches sometimes, but I always end up embarrassing myself. Oh, and I can't really lift, as you probably noticed the other day," he found himself rambling. Very unusual of him.

"Hmm. Yeah, I can see why you don't come to the gym with the rest of them," you laughed, "But I think you should. You bring a nice balance to whatever's going on with the rest."

"Well, uh, I could be persuaded," he made his attempt at flirting, internally cursing at himself while also praying that it didn't fall flat and force him to never show his face in front of you again.

"Oh, really? I think I could help with that," your tone turned a little softer as you gave him a suggestive smile, "Wanna go check out the pool with me? It's usually empty this time of day."

"Oh, uh, yes! I- uh, yeah," he mumbled his way through, gulping when you took his hand again and led him out of the room.

That's when Vernon's mind started going a mile a minute, but instead of freaking out, he let himself be taken away by you.

~

So, maybe taking you up on your offer to use the pool hadn't been the best idea.

Everything was fine. Really. The pool area was pretty clean and the water felt nice. The temperature was just perfect, allowing for anyone who wanted a quick dip to enjoy themselves without risking frostbite like at the local community pool.

Only issue was you.

According to all prior experience, you had proven to be nothing but a health concern for Vernon since meeting you only a few days ago.

Despite the lukewarm water, Vernon was burning up.

Who thought it'd be a good idea to go to the pool, alone, with his crush as she paraded herself around in a sad excuse for a bikini? Was this even allowed? He was seeing too much skin. Which wasn't an issue for Vernon! He'd never call himself a prude, but ... In this one instance, he wished for some of puritanical rule to prevent him from having to see you swim laps in a bikini that left very little to his imagination.

Except, of course, the material in front of him did give him a lot of room for some very imaginative thoughts.

Vernon had no option but to dip his feet in the pool, sitting at the edge with a towel on his lap in order to cover what he was sure was a small chub growing under his trousers. Meanwhile, he watched you swim for a good ten minutes, dreading the moment you stopped and approached him again.

"Are you really not going to swim with me?", you called from afar, having reached the other side of the pool, "The water's so nice and there's no one here."

"Uhm, nope, I hate getting wet. I'll just watch you," he slapped himself mentally as soon as he said it.

"Well, I wanna get to know you," you told him as you exited the pool, killing Vernon with every step you took in his direction up until you sat next to him. Your legs were practically touching.

"Hi," you smiled at him.

There was an air of confidence you carried every time you spoke to him. He was half sure you were fully aware of his crush and were simply banking on it.

"Hi," he said back, unknowing of where to settle his eyes.

You likely caught onto this, giggling under your breath.

"Vernon."

"Yeah?", he looked to you. He deliberately avoided looking at any of your bare skin, staring directly into your eyes with widened eyes.

"You can look at me, you know. I want you to."

"Oh, uh, I- I didn't want to be rude or anyth- Wait, what?"

You giggled again, "You're funny. Are you this much of a mess with everyone else, or am I getting special treatment?"

"Special treatment for sure."

Again, you laughed. Good. At least he wasn't fucking this up.

"You know, the guys told me you were this ... very stoic and chill type of guy. I was wondering if I'd get to see that guy if I got you alone. But you're even worse without the guys around to hackle you," you accused jokingly.

"So you're doing this on purpose?"

He turned his body to face you more, allowing for your knees to actually knock together this time. The dampness of your skin graced his leg, but it was your bare touch that made him shiver. Still, he felt like less of a loser now. He had somewhat of a handle on the conversation this time around.

"Depending what you mean by 'this.'"

"The bikini? Getting me alone? Sitting this close to me knowing I have to override my brain in order to not look anywhere past your eyes?"

Okay, he was flirting now, apparently. Unexpected, but he welcomed it. His mouth was going faster than his brain. But the slight shift in your expression told him it was a welcomed development.

"Yes," you bit back a smile as you confirmed it, "I wanted to see whether the feeling was mutual or if you were just socially incompetent. No offense."

"None taken. And, uh, what's your verdict?"

"I think it'd be more fun if you tell me," you challenged.

Either he was crazy or you were gradually leaning closer to him. Or maybe it was him. Both? Either way, the proximity increased.

"I do like you. It's painfully obvious and probably worrying how much since we've only met once, but I even went asking my friends about you," he found himself admitting.

"Really? That's funny, because I was asking Mingyu about you," you revealed.

So you didn't like Mingyu. Noted.

"Oh? I, uh, what'd he say?"

You hummed, scooting over and shamelessly laying one of your legs atop his, body leaning completely towards his own. The distance between you was practically nonexistent now, with your eyes even zeroing in on his lips as you spoke.

"He told me you can be shy sometimes. That I should help you out a little."

"A-and, are you? Going to help me out, I mean," he could hear his own gulp.

"Nope," you popped the 'p,' "I want you to take what you want."

"That's ... You're kind of mean," he chuckled breathlessly.

You chuckled back, but you were clearly frustrated by how much he was dragging it.

Without having to move, his arm wrapped around you, courtesy of you literally taking it and placing it on your hip. He was obedient, so he followed along. Next, your hand placed itself on his cheek, tilting his head down and abolishing any sort of distance left. Your lips were practically touching now.

"Vernon, just do it. I want you to. I really want you to."

And so he kissed you.

Immediately, you deepened it, taking control of it all.

All you wanted was for him to take the first step, which in reality he didn't. You held all the power, which you knew. Still, he enjoyed this. He liked that you knew the effect you had on him and that you knew what to do with it.

Plus, he'd be an idiot to complain about your sticking your tongue in his mouth.

Like any thinking, breathing man, he continued to kiss you, not bothering to stifle any groans he left against your lips. He completely disregarded the fact that you were in a public space, that anyone could walk in at any moment — maybe even one of his friends. But it was hard to care when your fingers tangled through the tresses of his hair and sucked at his tongue.

The kiss only stopped when you harshly pulled at his hair, physically removing his face from your own. He mumbled out a few complaints as you did, but eventually woke up from his trance and cleared his throat as you pulled away.

"It's almost 1 o'clock," you said, but all he paid attention to were your swollen lips, "There's a swimming class at one," you began getting up, towering over Vernon as you dried yourself up, "So unless you want to get a fine for fondling in private property, we should go."

You held out your hand for him to stand up, surprising Vernon when your stance didn't falter when helping lift up his weight. That's when he was reminded about your affinity for weight lifting. Hot.

The fleeting thought of you manhandling him crossed through his mind, but he shook it away not wanting to risk a boner at the gym.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Maybe. But it's more fun like this, isn't it?", you giggled as you walked away.

Vernon shook his head to himself as he watched you — very focused on the show you gave him as you walked away.

Vernon continued to see you on an almost daily basis after that — or at least every day in which he got dragged to the gym. Except maybe not in the way that he had hoped.

After that time in which you led him to the privacy of the empty pool patio, the two of you did not spend any time alone. Every single time he saw you was exclusively at the gym, with all the other guys in your immediate vicinity. He didn't even get the chance to speak to you, mostly unable to due to your attention being shared between thirteen men seemingly starved for attention (with him being the biggest culprit).

Like a dumbass, he didn't ask for your number at any time. His shyness around you had mostly left him, but he was still an awkward idiot when it came to taking further steps towards you.

And it wasn't as if you'd stopped provoking him. If anything, your efforts had doubled. Your gym outfits went from baggy shirts and spandex to tiny little sets that showed off as much skin as possible — he had even confirmed with Seungkwan that this was a brand new development in your wardrobe. You were insistent in eyeing him down any time it was his turn to do some sets. You'd bite your lip and stare at him as if you wanted to jump him on the spot. It was safe to say that this messed with his performance (not that he had good form in the first place).

A week of this went by, making him slowly lose his mind. All of his friends became privy to his frustrations, but he was mostly met with mockery. Some told him he was an idiot, that he should just grow some balls and ask you to come over to his apartment. Others simply laughed at how weak he was under your attention.

On the eighth day of this hell, he finally decided to do something about it. If you wanted to play with his sanity, then he'd feed right into it. He didn't care to look like a wimp or like he was down bad for you — he was both of those things, and proud.

Mondays were the day in which the guys went to the gym at night rather than during the day. Something about a lower influx of people at that specific time. And you, you had a tendency of attending the gym at the same time as them most of the time, which meant you were also present.

It was almost closing time by the time the guys were done working out that day. Vernon had to endure three hours due to their insistence that they 'might as well stay til closing.'

As they began to pack up, of course Mingyu managed to hold up the part-timers who were about to close, wondering if it'd be fine to stay an extra ten minutes so a few of his friends could catch the showers they desperately needed. Being Mingyu, of course the part-timers didn't stand a chance to his charms.

Vernon decided to take this as an opportunity to find you alone. The guys (who loved to hog your attention, apparently) would finally be out of his way while he sought you out. It was the perfect chance to at least ask you for your number. Before you left the guys and headed over to the girls' locker rooms, you made sure to eye Vernon far too suggestively for him to misunderstand your intentions. Or at least he hoped so.

For once, Vernon was thankful for Mingyu's habit to befriend every person in his vicinity, as his yapping allowed Vernon to sneak into the women's locker rooms to find you there. It was also thanks to him that he'd be able to you alone rather than accidentally bump into some other gym-goer. He made a mental note to thank him later before beginning his search for you.

This search didn't last long. It was clear to Vernon as soon as he crossed the threshold to the showers in the girl's locker room that you'd been expecting him.

In nothing but a towel, you stood next to a running shower, lower lip trapped under your teeth as you eyed him down. No words to be exchanged. All you had to do was extend your hand out to him for him to finally unfreeze and do something.

Immediately, you dropped your towel and dragged him into the shower, pulling him in so that he'd have you pinned up against the dampened wall. His gym clothes got soaked, but he figured it was worth the temporary inconvenience. Especially when your hands began pawing at him to get undressed within seconds of kissing him.

Just like last time, Vernon lost all sense of time and space in the kiss. His hands were way less awkward than he was, confident in their touching of your body. The wetness of the running water only added to it all, allowing Vernon's hands to easily slide across every curve.

"You took too long to make a move," you huffed into his lips.

Your hands expressed frustration. They glided through his dampening hair, pulling it in order to get his mouth to open for access for your tongue. It was clear to him you had a tendency to take what you wanted, and he was ready to be completely consumed by you.

"I told you," he mumbled, "you make me act like an idiot."

That pulled a chuckle from you as your lips traveled down the wet skin of his neck. Teeth pulled lightly at the skin there, surely leaving reddened marks behind their wake. Every bite and suckle was met by a squeeze of your hips, courtesy of Vernon's needy hands.

"So I'm not being too forward? This is fine?", you pulled away for half a second before Vernon grumbled as he reconnected your lips. You chuckled at his neediness.

"Please be as forward as humanly possible. It's hot."

The two of you continued kissing. Had it not been for the echoing of the water hitting the floor, Vernon was sure the obscene sound of your kissing would've made him blush. It wasn't like him to play tonsil tennis in public like this, but you made his common sense leave his body.

Then you made things all the worse for him.

Pulling away, you eyed him before wrapping your hand around him. Vernon made the mistake of looking down, finding your hand slowly working him, pace so slow it was surely meant to tease. He groaned as he looked back up, eyes becoming stuck at your bare tits for the first time since you'd dropped your towel for him.

"You're so fucking hot," he groaned almost pained.

"Yeah? You too, baby," you grinned as you sped up your hand.

Baby? Was he baby now? Fuck.

"I- fuck, this won't be fun if you keep going," he winced despite the increasing pleasure. This only encouraged you to make things even worse for him, though. Your lips attached to his neck again, dick now being grasped with both hands as one worked him and the other tended to his balls.

"I'm having fun," a breath was felt against his skin as you chuckled between kisses to his chest, "I want you to cum right here," you laid one last kiss before moving to his ear, licking and pulling at the lobe, "If you're good, you'll get me on my knees after."

Vernon almost lost it then. He didn't care what you'd ask of him. He needed this. At no other point in his life had he ever needed something as much as he needed to obey your every whim.

He groaned and buried his face in your neck as his hands continued to fondle at you. They took turns between your ass and your breasts, losing any decorum they had left. This was the only pleasure he could give you while you jerked him off, but you loved it. Your pretty sighs against his ear told him that you were getting off on the effect you had on him. His lack of control as he felt you up to his heart's contentment had you reeling. It was sickening how much he enjoyed that knowledge.

"'m gonna cum, fuck. Shit, I need- oh, fuck," he babbled. You squeezed and twisted and played at his cock in ways that had nonsensical words leaving his lips. No further coherent cries left him whilst you had your fun with him.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me," you continued to instigate.

As per usual, he was yours to toy with. His body followed your instructions before he could even process your words. The cum splattered on your stomach before trailing down and going down the drain, washed away by the wasted water.

Again, you kissed him, this time without the separation of your hand on his dick standing between you. His arms held onto you tighter than before as he pulled you as close as possible. Sensitivity sparked on his dick when you began absentmindedly grinding against him. Despite the water surrounding you, he was sure it was your own wetness that he felt as you humped him.

When he let his hand explore between your legs, he had to bite back a groan. You were incredibly soaked, instantly dampening his fingers with your nectar.

Your sigh of pleasure against his lips told him all he needed to know as he felt between your legs. A tiny nod from you was confirmation that you wanted him, so his fingers entered you. But not before teasing at your folds with a hard knuckle, up until you bit his lip and grumbled at him.

"Shit, you're tight."

"I'll be tighter when you fuck me," you moaned.

"I, fuck, yeah? You'll let me fuck you, baby?", he breathed out, beginning to scissor his fingers in and out of you, curling where he knew would have you keening for him.

You gasped out a moan, hands digging into his chest in a worthless attempt to both pull and push him away. Head thrown back, Vernon took advantage to scrape his teeth on the skin there, sucking lightly at the points that had you shuddering. His read on your body was immediate. It gave him a surge of confidence to note every little reaction you had to him. Every moan and every gasp was taken in by him, stored in his hippocampus for future use.

"Oh, fuck, right there, shit, Vernon," you whimpered.

Long fingers, pointed and curled in a come-hither motion began repeating their movements. Touching that spongy part of you, Vernon continued to pull cries out of you, uncaring that anyone could walk by and hear you despite the running shower. The water was beginning to run cold, but your orgasm mattered more to Vernon.

"'m gonna cum, Nonnie," you warned, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

"Cum, shit. Wanna fuck you so bad."

You tightened at that, causing his hardening length to twitch at the thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — though that was impossible to him.

When your orgasm found you, Vernon knew he was in out of his depth. Your back curled as his free hand held you up against him, causing your chest to dig into his own. Head thrown back and fingers digging into his biceps, you were a sight he would never forget. A low groan of his own mixed with your breathy whines at the mere view of your pleasure overtaking you in such a way — and because of him!

His fingers continued to play at your middle throughout your orgasm, refusing to stop toying at your swollen clit until you whined at him to stop with a halfhearted grumble.

He chuckled at the sight. Somehow you managed to look adorable to him right after what had just happened between you.

Just when he thought you'd stop to at least take a breather, you cupped his face and pulled him in for another kiss. His fingers were still dripping with you, hand simply flying between your bodies to ensure he didn't get your own substances on you. But shocking him once again, you pulled away, grabbing onto his hand and slipping his fingers in your mouth.

Eyeing him down as you sucked at his fingers, his mouth shot open, letting out a silent groan at the sight — Depraved. That's the only way Vernon could describe himself at that moment as he watched your eyes roll back as you sucked at his digits in your mouth.

"I wanna suck your dick," you deadpanned as soon as you pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

All he could do was choke on his own spit, full well knowing that his dick twitched against his stomach, gracing your own due to the proximity between you.

"I, you don't have to-"

"But I want to. Do you not?"

Your head tilted and your eyebrows furrowed as if you were confused by his hesitation. He was confused too.

As much as he wanted to take you up on your offer, — and very enthusiastically so — he knew there was no way he could last more than one more orgasm (and that was saying a lot).

And despite the thought of you on your knees, mouth wrapped around him as you eyed him in that way you knew made him feel faint making him almost lose his mind, what he wanted most at that moment (or ever, he was pretty sure) was to be inside you.

The thirst he felt for you at that moment was unmatched. It was a sickly feeling considering he'd only known you for a bit over a week, yet your effect on him had been immediate — That, and the fact that you were standing in front of him, completely nude and dripping wet (everywhere), eyeing him like you wanted to devour him until there was no man left in him.

"I wanna fuck you," his voice broke as he said it, a testament to how needy he felt in that moment.

"Yeah?"

There was that pleased, teasing smile on your lips again. And then a hand wrapped around him again, but this time directing him towards your center, holding him hostage as his tip graced at your mound.

"Like this? Want me against the wall? While the guys wait for me to finish 'showering'?", you were challenging him, he knew it.

He took the bait.

For the nth time, your lips connected in a heavy kiss. It was dubious whose spit made its way to his chin, but that was the last thing he had in his mind.

Grabbing onto your toned thigh, he lifted it to wrap around his waist, pushing himself up against you even closer, ridding you of even the smallest inch of distance. Meanwhile, your hand led his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself (and him) by running it up and down your slit, stopping to circle his tip on your clit.

Vernon's forehead fell against yours with a groan at the feeling of your warmth, a whimper leaving him when you took that chance to lick into his mouth, beginning to push him inside, but only the tip.

"F-fuck, please," he pleaded against your lips.

"Begging now?", you chuckled.

"I'll beg every time if it means you'll let me fuck you."

And he meant it more than he realized. Whimpers left his mouth as soon as you began leading him in, legs shaking and a sigh of relief leaving his lips at finally being inside you.

You were so tight, so hot, so fucking wet. He could feel his eyes itching to roll back all the way to his brain at how perfect you felt. Grabby fingers held onto your damp skin, uncaring that the water hitting his back was now cold and only proved as an obstacle to fucking you. Any surrounding circumstances were locked up in the back burner. His brain was just a constant repetition of yesyesyesyes as he willed himself not to cum within the first minute.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good ..." he groaned out.

"I'll feel even better when you move," you huffed out a breath.

"Just one second, baby. You feel so good, I'm sorry."

Readjusting his hands on your hips, he brought you closer, raising the leg you had wrapped around him a bit and leaning you upwards. From this angle, he began to move, starting off slow to test the waters. And god, did that reward him.

The prettiest sigh he'd ever heard left your lips, accompanied by subsequent gasps of pleasure. Sharp nails dug into his back, petulant in their attempt to pull him closer, but the took it like a champ.

"Nonnie, fuck! R-right there!", you cried out.

And then he was gone.

He was no longer himself. No longer caring to extend his orgasm and only worried about hitting that spot. The spot that had your back arching and your chest pressing onto his. That same spot that morphed your face in a way that Vernon knew he'd remember for endless nights after this.

Continuing to piston desperately into you. Strength he didn't know he had suddenly took over as he manhandled your body as he wished. Every thrust was accompanied by your own attempts at pushing back against him, leading to a depraved harmony of slapping skin and gasps of pleasure.

"Didn't, shit, didn't think you were this strong," you hiccuped out.

"That's what good pussy does to a man," he joked, but deep down probably meant it.

You tried to laugh, but the sound was interrupted by another moan, head throwing itself back and resting against the shower wall. You tightened yourself around him then, groaning something out to him about not making you laugh. He couldn't really process it when you were suctioning him in so deliciously.

Soon enough, he felt his high approaching, making him panic and accelerate the speed of his thrusts. His mind was going a mile a minute as he attempted to take you down with him, mumbling out expletives into your skin, huffing and groaning at the way you internmently tightened around him.

"Need you to cum with me, okay? Please, it'll be so fucking embarrassing if you don't."

You chuckled between gasps, pulling him in for a kiss, "I'm there, just, fuck, keep doing that."

He was far too gone, lips barely able to kiss back in the midst of his orgasm taking over. He couldn't do this. Couldn't handle how good it all felt. Couldn't deal with your tongue in his mouth or your nails digging into his skin, much less with the sudden strangulation your cunt performed on his cock as your own orgasm arrived. And then your high pitched moans came into the picture, making him truly lose his mind.

"It's so good, oh god, so fucking good. You feel so- fuck, shit, so tight, baby," he babbled against your lips.

"So good, hmm? Fucking me so good, Non," you moaned back.

Vernon swore he blacked out after that, not knowing what happened as soon as the dramatic influx of pleasure reached him. The aftermath was full of dizziness and a feeling of fulfillment Vernon had never experienced before. It was like waking up from an amazing nap, except this time he was still plunged deeply into the prettiest girl he'd ever seen as she pressed lazy kisses to his chest.

"Are you alive?", you asked when you reached his lips, pecking them once, twice, thrice before he tried deepening it, only to find you pulling away with a giggle.

"Maybe not. I'd be fine if I wasn't. That would've been a great way to go."

"You're funny after sex," you noted.

"It's a little easier when I'm already inside you. It's less nerve-wracking that way."

"Yeah? So are you gonna go back to stuttering through every sentence once you pull out?", you tightened yourself around him to somehow prove your point, making him wince.

"Nope. Staying here. I'll even risk hypothermia with this cold ass water," that earned him another laugh and even a kiss.

"Okay, Romeo. Mingyu can only hold off the part-timers for so long, c'mon," you pressed your hands on his chest, making him groan but follow along to your instruction as per usual. — maybe this was something to look into. Later.

~

"I was not expecting that from you," you breathed out a laugh once you were dressed, exiting the dressing room hand-in-hand.

You were kidding. Maybe.

"I told you I'm not as socially awkward as I seem. I'm just an idiot around you," he chuckled. His hand swung back and forth with yours jovially.

He was very happy right now. Sue him.

"Well, a very skilled idiot, then."

He laughed along with you as you approached the main lobby, finding two familiar men leaning against a wall. It was clear in their demeanor that they'd been waiting a while, with Mingyu sighing in frustration when he spotted you.

"Half an hour? What could you have been doing in there for half an hour?", whined Seokmin.

"Well-"

"Don't. Rhetorical question," interrupted Mingyu.

The two of you snickered, walking past them and towards the exit. Both boys exchanged a look as they followed slightly behind you.

"Hold on. No 'thank you'?", Mingyu interrupted again.

Mingyu stopped you from walking away, grabbing onto your arm so you'd turn around and subsequently causing your hand to disconnect from Vernon's

You sighed in exaggerated annoyance, "Fine. Thank you, Gyu. I guess I owe you one."

"Wait, what?", Vernon looked quizzically at you both.

Mingyu grinned stupidly at both of you, with an equally idiotic Seokmin standing next to him with a mirrored expression.

"She asked us if we could stall so she'd get you alone," Mingyu started.

"I was just going to pull the fire alarm, but Gyu figured that probably wouldn't work," Seokmin continued, "and now Gyu scored a date with the receptionist, so all wins here, I guess."

Vernon turned to you, both scandalized and amused, "You-"

"Hey, I told you. You were taking too long. A girl has needs," you shrugged, grabbing onto his hand again and beginning to walk away as if it was nothing.

Vernon could've argued back. But following you seemed like the more obvious response.

Maybe he'd been a total loser throughout all this, but he scored the girl in the end. All was good.

Except now he'd probably have to go to the gym every other day.

to read short 1.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: established relationship, afab reader, smut, morning sex, dry humping, tit worship, sorta switch!vernon, etc.

wc: 332 (teaser); 1789 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"God, no, I can't go again," Vernon grumbled, face planted on his pillow.

The man was practically passed out, unmoving as he stayed cuddled into his blankets. The only movements out of him were the occasional squeezing of his arms around the polar bear plush you'd gotten him a few weeks back.

Vernon was more than content staying like this for the rest of the day. Only thing that would've made it all even better would be if you hadn't insisted on getting up and away from his arms.

Unfortunately for him, you were strong enough to flip him over.

Usually, this would be something he enjoyed. Something he keened over, even. But the context was different.

This time you weren't flipping him over to straddle him and make him lose his mind. No, this time was so you could continue to insist at him to get up, but now forcing him to look you in the eye as you did so.

"Vernon, we agreed on this," you pouted at him.

You were too far for his liking. While he laid on bed, body completely stretched out and occupying way too much space, you were propped up on your knees on the same bed, except not close enough for him to pull you into him. This was strategic, he guessed.

"It's been three months. How much longer do I have to keep going to the gym?"

"It's kind of a lifetime type of thing."

He groaned.

"If I show up without you you're just gonna get twelve men barging in here in an hour," you reasoned, crawling closer to him.

"Is there any way I can convince you to not make me go?"

"Is there any way I can convince you to go?", you rebutted, eyes flirty.

Vernon knew this move.

"You know you can convince me. You're very well aware of all the ways in which you can convince me. It's kind of mean of you to threaten me like this."

...

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