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#i got ... the best grade possible
bacchuschucklefuck · 2 months
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the nsbu table is five DM pets and rekha shankar
#not art#nsbu spoilers#← tag mostly for the following tags lol#regarding the post I Am Colloquializing For Joke Of Course but its just funny to see how#everyone is like so sweet and enthusiastic and playing and frolicking in brennan's sandbox#and rekha is heckling him at any possible venue. everyone else is a camper rekha is his shounen rival#like jacob is bringing his full earnestness into playing the character#and alex constantly reaches to pieces and people in the environment and other players to reveal extremely compelling dynamics#and ify is doing next level engineer shit on the worldbuilding he is straight up gonna get a good grade in isekai#and ally is extremely willing to take any hit to keep the banter flowing and the ease with which they and brennan bounce ideas back and#forth is astounding#and izzy is like. she's Hysterical I fucking love paula so much but there's that moment in the latest ep when jack manhattan shows up#and she Immediately breaks out of paula to do the fucking face and beat perfect jack manhattan and you kinda realize oh she's just#really fucking good at acting and she's beinging it 110% to the table#man. nsbu is just good lmao#I call rekha brennan's shounen rival but truly like that person hacking move was awesome she is as invested in the world as everyone else#but that dynamic really got her to shine the way it sets up the shirt throwing bit was straight up a jjba duel#like brennan entertaining her request and letting the whole table forget about the speed of the car before reminding them#by breaking g13's wrist. like beat for beat a shounen fight it's the best#and it heightens when rekha then does something fucking awesome#its good. its just really good. I really enjoy nsbu guys
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mxwhore · 10 months
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very happy but also very bummed
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studentbyday · 9 months
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y'know there are some things i think i've gotten over, but in (rather frequent) moments of insecurity, i realize i'm so not over them. the bite of their memory still frustrates me and makes me bitter and somehow, despite me having had *no control* over the outcome, makes me feel guilty and inadequate.
it's really stupid.
i'm hoping that writing this down will help me realize how ridiculous this is and that the fact that i did not get what i want and felt i deserved does not mean that i need to break myself even further to prove my worth.
guilt and feelings of inadequacy (and loneliness and dread and uncertainty/anxiety and anger and any other feeling that leaves me bitter) or a desire to prove myself worthy to others (which is smth i can't control) should not be my main motivator for getting ahead. my motivation should come from a place of gratitude for having the opportunity to do so. do it for the joy of expanding my brain, for the joy of a job well done, for the hope that doing something in line with my goals rather than nothing (since i clearly can't do everything) will change how i think and feel about myself for the better (no more depressive episodes! state changes!!!)
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magentagalaxies · 4 months
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vent incoming:
got my grades back for my courses last semester and most of it was to be expected, mostly A's, maybe an A-, etc. but i honestly can't get over the fact that my independent study (the buddy cole documentary) was for some reason given a B. like sure getting a B isn't bad per se, I usually get at least one B every semester and i honestly don't really care about what my exact gpa is as long as i can graduate, but come on. this school put me through months of psychological torment over this project and didn't even have the nerve to give me a B+??? i'm still coping with the self-doubt they forced on me and this bullshit is not helping!!
#honestly it's kind of hilarious ngl. especially bc i also got my documentary work counted as an independent study the previous semester#and the previous semester even tho i barely worked on the doc itself#(mostly just planning and putting together the crowdfunding which was still a lot of work but like compare it to the past few months)#they were willing to give me an A (my school doesn't do A+ so this is the highest mark possible)#vs this semester. like i'll admit my final assignment was late and could have been more polished#but i was literally on tour in documentary-mode 24/7 for several weeks. i filmed an entire comedy special! i put together a live interview!#not to mention having to fucking negotiate with my own college censoring the footage they'd promised me of an event i put together#and play nice with a professor who literally outed me on twitter in an attempt to cancel one of my best friends#at this point the ''B'' feels more like a petty grudge than anything else#like ok we can't get away with *actually* fucking over jessamine's grades bc clearly ze did do the work. but let's just give zir a B#like i will admit the audio quality in my final isn't great. and i could have used more polished footage in some sections#but counterpoint: 100+ students were arrested at a protest while i was editing and i was having a mental breakdown#the fact that i finished *anything* is goddamn impressive especially after they essentially conditioned me to hate myself any time i was#working on a project i loved!!!#due to the aforementioned student arrests my college did put out an option where we could change any letter grade this semester to pass/fai#so anything passing wouldn't impact our gpa if we didn't want it to. so i could just change the B to a ''pass''#but really what's the point. ''B'' is still a good grade and my GPA is fine (3.65 on a 4.0 grading scale. 2.0 is required to graduate)#it just sucks that after what i went through last semester i feel like nobody takes it seriously#i was reminiscing earlier about how it's honestly kind of funny how after that professor outed me on twitter#i was at the hotel with scott like an hour later sobbing and having an existential crisis about my relationship to gender#and scott was so supportive but also awkwardly being like#''i know i should offer the crying child a tissue but where the fuck are the tissues in this room what do i do''#and he just handed me a full-on towel instead like oh my god he was trying his best but also so clearly out of his depth#but of course i then had to remember how when i told that story to a different professor to be like ''this is how much scott cares about me#this guy called me fucking UNPROFESSIONAL for crying in front of the subject of my documentary?????????#like yeah maybe so but how DARE you call me unprofessional when a different professor tweeted my full name and gender without my consent#in an attempt to fucking cancel one of my friends for ''misgendering'' me for using pronouns i'm fine with him using!!!#i don't think i'm ever going to be able to forgive my college and i don't know how i'll be able to get through one more semester#that experience genuinely changed things about my psychology that i'm not proud of and i need to work through#so if i have to miss a goddamn kids in the hall event because i have class this november i am going to set something on fire
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spearxwind · 2 years
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snaps wide awake out of completely nowhere thinking “are my ocs too weird”
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lovereturns · 8 months
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my sister and i are talking about how different the pjo series and the one piece adaptation felt in terms of being familiar with the source material, and because pjo was a middle school grade book, i feel like if they waited just a few more years, they could’ve had a crew of people who actually grew up with the books :(
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mushroom-person · 1 year
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GUYS my biology teacher did let me make presentation about cephalopods
they actively let me infodump about my hyper-specific hyperfixations and i keep getting away with this
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unhonestlymirror · 1 year
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Me listening to how my Ukrainian classmates get 8-10 out of 10 for Physiology tests, when I got 5-6:
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mchiti · 1 year
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oh look now i'm studying the italian lexicon influenced by arabic at 3am. And when I'll do my exam and I'll write it down that I SPEAK ARABIC and never ever pronounce those words in front of me again (i'm re-listening to the lectures) so what please stop i'm- that pronunciation i'll be crying in my sleep tonight
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flange5 · 1 year
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@tonystank
I'm sort of in awe, but in an appalled way. This is on the same level as the student around 8 years ago who for a term paper literally just copied and pasted 11 pages of Wikipedia's entry on Beowulf, with all the formatting and links intact, with no relevance to the assignment question or requirements, and turned it in, cut off mid-sentence. This was a senior seminar final paper.
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purple-is-great · 2 years
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i love meeting fellow students at uni who are like "oh yeah i've got a teenager at home" or "my son's four" or "i'm a doctor and i'm working on the side, but i wanted to study something else"
and i'm there like Hello I Am Nineteen Do You Want To Hear About High School
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fragglez · 4 months
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I'm a fucking philosopher
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ihavenosoul12 · 1 year
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celebrate world mental health day but fucking going through it
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kingkaizen · 5 months
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𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼
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∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3
∘ ft: nanami
∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3
∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation
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“Focus for me, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.
“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.
“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.
“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.
“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 
“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.
“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 
“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples.
“I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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deebris · 3 months
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From annoying to beloved
Homelander x fem!Reader
Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.
During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.
The reader is also kind of anxious.
Word count: 2.9k
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"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"
"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.
"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.
"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.
He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.
"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"
You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.
No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.
This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.
When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.
Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.
He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.
"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.
"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?
The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.
"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.
"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.
"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"
You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.
"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."
"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.
Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:
"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.
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When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.
"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.
"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.
He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.
"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.
You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.
"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.
"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.
"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.
After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.
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It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.
You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.
During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.
"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.
"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.
"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.
"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:
"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."
Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.
With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.
"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.
He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.
That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.
The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.
You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.
Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.
Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.
The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:
"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.
You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.
He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.
For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.
"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.
"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.
"Why?" He ignored your apology.
"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.
"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"
"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.
"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.
"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.
"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.
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hadersversion · 2 months
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I. i can fix him (no really i can)
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“he had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met me yet.”
pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader
word count: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn!!
mood board!
“hey,” i said, nudging him with my foot. “hey, rafe, i think it’s time for you to get up.”
i look down at the boy who was passed out on the ground of the beach. his shaved head covered in sand as beer bottles surrounded him. his eyes fluttered open at me, staring at me. “w-where the hell am i?” he said, slowly sitting up.
“the beach, it’s 6:30 in the morning.” i sigh, looking at my watch. “i assume you were at a party here last night and got ditched on the beach by your friends.”
i watched as he looked around the empty beach and groaned, covering his face with his hands and yawning. “fuck.” he mumbled to himself. he ran his hands down once before looking back at me. “thanks, for uh-….”
i laugh to myself. “making sure you were alive? don’t mention it.”
he nods with a smirk. “yeah, that.” we stay there in silence. “i’m sorry, w-what’s your name again? i recognize you from your friends i just…”
“y/n y/l/n.” i nod at him.
“y/n y/l/n.” he repeats back at me, not once breaking eye contact with me.
i feel my face heat up, not knowing what i’m feeling in this exact moment. this is rafe fucking cameron, kook prince and sworn enemy to my friends. he’s not a good person. i know who he is and i should hate him, but when his eyes pierce through me like that…like he knows all my secrets….that’s when i start to question reality. “well, i should get going.” i say, pointing awkwardly to the beach.
“it’s 6:30 in the morning, where could you possibly be going?” he asks, pushing his knees up and resting his arms on them.
i sigh and look around, feeling like i’m in the hot seat. “uh…it’s uh…it’s dumb, you wouldn’t wanna know.” i try to dismiss him.
“no, i wanna know, tell me.” he says, sternly.
i bite my lip and sigh. “towatchthedolphins.” i say in a fast whisper.
“what was that?” he asks with a cocky smile, making me blush. “i couldn’t hear ya, could ya speak up?”
“i’m watching the dolphins!” i say more clearer, looking down at him. “i’ve been waking up early and watching the dolphins. this is like their prime time, so i like to sit and watch them while i have my breakfast.” i admit to him.
i wait there, expecting him to laugh or do something heinous that rafe cameron would do to a pogue. but he doesn’t. he just nods. “cool, i didn’t know that was like a thing.”
did i take one of kie’s edibles this morning by accident? did i actually never wake up to my alarm and i’m still tucked away in bed? or did rafe cameron just have a super normal reaction to something i said to him?
“yeah, right now is the best season for it.” i inform him with a shy smile on my face.
he continues to stare at me with those fucking perfect blue eyes. he rakes over my body once and stands up. did he just check me out? “well, y/n, enjoy those dolphins. i should probably get home before my dad has a bitch fit. thanks again.” he waves goodbye to me before staggering away towards the exit of the beach. my body lets out a breathe that i didn’t even know i was holding and i start to feel tingly inside.
what the fuck just happened?
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
after that, i seem to find rafe cameron everywhere. as i ride my bike to work, go to the beach, hang out with the pogues. he’s clouded up my brain and i have no idea what to do. it’s not like i can tell anyone, i’d be marked with a scarlet T for traitor. but my thoughts can’t stop themself from being infiltrated by him.
“yo, y/n, everything cool?” jj asks me, sipping from his beer.
he snaps me from my rafe cameron brain rot, taking me by surprise. “yeah, everything’s alright. sorry, just a little tired.”
a whole group of us hang out by the beach at the boneyard, the usual pogues, some kooks who we invited in to fuck with, and the vacationers. everything was going alright, until i saw him.
“ain’t no fuckin way.” i hear jj spit.
rafe and his friends stroll up to the party, with a few girls scattered around them. i feel my face goes hot as my friends spit their remarks about him.
“what makes this douchebag think it’s okay to just show up here?” i hear kiara say.
“i don’t know but i don’t like it.” john b adds in.
my eyes can’t seem to leave his figure. he looks just as handsome as i remember from the beach. i know i am staring but i just cannot seem to care. but my brain short wires when he looks up, meeting my gaze with a cocky smirk. shit.
i feel my face get darker as i quickly avert my gaze down to my feet. "uh, i'm gonna get a beer. anyone want one?" but before my friends can even answer my question, i quickly make my way over to the coolers. once i know i am out of their sight, i take a well needed deep breathe and try to ground myself. my brain feels fuzzy with thoughts of rafe cameron but i have to push them down.
i bend over to grab a beer from the cooler when i hear a familiar voice behind me. "mind if i grab one?" i quickly turn my head to see rafe, staring into his blue eyes like they were the goddamn eighth wonder of the world.
he's so close yet so far away, i can smell the expensive cologne he has on. my brain gets off of autopilot and screams at me to put space between us, which i attempt to do. but before i can think, i'm tripping over my own feet, almost falling back. but i feel rafe's large hand quickly land on my lower back, saving me from the tumble.
"woah, there, did you already have that much to drink?" he jokes.
i stare at him, my face probably matching the color of a budweiser can. "i...uh...i..um..." i feel myself babbling on, unable to form a single thought as he has his hands on my body. "s-sorry about that. but i...i've only had one beer, i'm just a total klutz sometimes i swear."
he keeps his hand on my back, i can feel him slightly rubbing it, sending goosebumps all over my body. he keeps looking into my eyes, which seems to be his favorite hobby at this point. "well, i'm glad i caught ya." we stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity, until i remember where i am. who i am here with.
my friends.
i frantically look around, making sure they aren't looking at me dying under rafe’s touch. i pull away from him quickly.
"don't worry they aren't looking." he reassures, grabbing my beer and opening it for me. "i assume it's your friends you are looking for." he hands me back the cold beverage, our fingers brushing against each other.
i quickly snap my hand back and look up at him, he has a small smile on his face as he looks down at me. "sorry, but, i mean...you understand, right? my friends don't like you, you don't like them. if they see me talking over here with you...it'll be a whole thing."
"i didn't peg you as someone who cares about what other people thought about them. i don't know, i mean you did admit to me very easily your love for dolphin watching." he smirks as he grabs a can of beer and opens it. "just saying."
i want to hide away forever. "p-please don't mention that to anyone else. please." i beg with an awkward smile.
"i won't, i won't. don't get so freaked out." he takes a long sip of beer. "it's kinda cute." he says so nonchalantly.
did he just call me cute?
this is a prank, this is merely a big joke to him. it has to be.
i can tell i took too long to process what he just said because he nudges me lightly with his elbow. "did i lose you there?"
i shake my head and laugh. "sorry, i'm all good." we stand there, sipping our beers in silence. "why are you here?" i ask with no hesitation, which earns me a wide-eye reaction from rafe. "that was rude but...like for real, why? you never come to pogue parties. i thought we were too beneath you to ever join us."
"i mean, you have a point." he looks down at me with a smirk, which makes me flip him off. he chuckles at me and sips his beer. "honesty?"
"please." i say.
he sighs and looks around. "i'm here to see you."
i choke on the sip of beer i'm taking, too shocked at what he just told me. i watch as he steps forward in concern and tries to put his hand on my back, but i move away quickly. i cough agressively before turning to him. "i-i'm sorry, what?" i almost laugh in his face.
"i'm pretty sure you heard me, y/n. i'm here for you." he admits.
i stare at him, waiting for him to laugh, admit that it was a joke, or even a ploy to mess with the pogues like some kind of goddamn trojan horse. "you're serious?"
"i think you would know if i'm lying." he shrugs.
i stand there, unable to wrap my head around what he just said to me. "you're so full of shit." i blurt out.
he just laughs. "am i now?"
"you're here to see me? the girl whose name you couldn't even remember a few days ago?" i cock my eyebrow at him.
"is it so horrible to believe?" he questions. i look at him, trying to tell if this is real or fake. he waves his hand in front of my face. "i lost you there again."
"i'm sorry, it's just...i'm me...and you're you. we exist on totally different planets...universes." i tell him.
"yet here we are, right next to each other on planet earth." he says.
he got me there.
"y/n!?" i hear kiara yell.
rafe turns his head to the voice calling my name and then back to me. "that's your cue to leave, i think."
i cannot turn away from him, too dumbfounded about the past 5-minute conversation we just had. "you're not slick." i say, starting to walk away backwards so i'm facing him.
"i didn't think i was being slick!" he says, with his hands up in his defence.
"i see through you and your lies, rafe cameron! i really do!" i yell at him as i get further away.
"yeah, i'd like to see you try, y/n y/l/n!" he shouts back, smiling at me.
i crack a smile back to him and flip him off before walking into the crowd, looking for kiara.
she comes up and puts her shoulder around me. "you all good? was he bothering you?" she asks, looking back to where rafe and i were.
i follow her gaze and see rafe still standing there with that same look on his face. "no, he wasn't. i'm all good, i swear." i say honestly. "just having a small talk."
"with the kook prince? no one ever just has a 'small talk' with rafe cameron, y/n." she says, squeezing me tighter.
"well i guess i'm the first person to ever do so." i shrug and continue to walk back towards the boys, trying to hide the stupid smile rafe cameron put on my face.
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