Spoiled Milk (voiced by Jeaney Collects on YT)
[Comic version below! For easier reading and details or smth]
All this collective energy spent razzing Fordâs love life, and not a single new Dramatic Author Meme across my dash? SMH
70 years was about how long Hazel was stuck in the fields of asphodel, waiting, carrying the burden of âeternalâ loneliness because she wanted to be a good daughter
Thoughts (and prayers) on Ajaw
a couple A4 sketches, looking to dry out my remaining fineliners so I can get more without feeling guilty
Update of the Starship prototypes with the new kid that may make us dream đ„”â€ïžđđ€© Welcome to starbase S20 đ„° . . . . . .. #s20 #sn15 #sn11 #sn10 #sn9 #sn8 #starship #welcome #starbase #orbital #nouveautĂ©s #news #spacetechnology #spacelover #incredible #prototype #superheavy #booster #flight #test #tuilethermique #flaps #view #update #montage #photography #photographer #love #elonmusk #spacex (at SpaceX) https://www.instagram.com/p/CSQWpDwKXwO/?utm_medium=tumblr
artfight attack for @robinwaaaaa! so glad i finally got to draw her
Japanese dwarf flying squirrel
absolute baby bois.
Took this shot in the west part River North such a beautiful day yesterday #chicago #downtown #rivernorth #beautiful #chitecture #architecture #incredible #artofchi #chicagoart #instachicago #chicagogram #realestate #life #bestoftheday #photooftheday #myphotography #like #tag #share #repost #follow #igers #insta #mood #nofilter #happy #love #andreastrejo (at River North) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx_R5GIglNZ/?igshid=12da7p5f61m7s
Beautiful balcony view from the Aqua Chicago #lakeshoreeast #neweastside #neighborhood #chicago #downtown #beautiful #love #mood #nofilter #chitecture #architecture #incredible #artofchi #chicagoart #instachicago #chicagogram #realestate #bestoftheday #photooftheday #myphotography #like #tag #share #repost #follow #igers #insta #andreastrejo (at New Eastside, Chicago) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bxf3TvJARrJ/?igshid=1hk9aeg1uy6cn
Downtown Chicago life đïž #chicago #downtown #rivernorth #beautiful #chitecture #architecture #incredible #artofchi #chicagoart #instachicago #chicagogram #realestate #realtor #agent #showings #bestoftheday #photooftheday #myphotography #like #tag #share #repost #follow #igers #insta #mood #nofilter #happy #love #andreastrejo (at Chicago Downtown) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxdXInYAJY3/?igshid=q6snim0mwgel
The Beautiful EMME Luxury boutique Apartments West Loop Chicago #chicago #westloop #downtown #beautiful #Interior #interiordesign #incredible #artofchi #chicagoart #instachicago #chicagogram #realestate #realtor #agent #showings #bestoftheday #photooftheday #myphotography #like #tag #share #repost #follow #igers #insta #mood #nofilter #happy #love #andreastrejo (at West loop, chicago) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwqCfuMgvJc/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=xo1n5q36uw77
Great shot from 1350/60 Lake Shore Drive Apartments deck #deck #lakeshore #lakeshoredrive #chicago #downtown #goldcoast #beautiful #incredible #artofchi #chicagoart #instachicago #chicagogram #realestate #realtor #agent #showings #bestoftheday #photooftheday #myphotography #like #tag #share #repost #follow #igers #insta #mood #nofilter #happy #love #andreastrejo (at Lakeshore Drive Chicago Illinois) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwaeUhJgwIS/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=9f9hqhh1mgct
Chicago Beauty đ amenity deck 3Eleven : 311 W IL #rivernorth #downtown #skyline #chicago #amenities #beautiful #love #incredible #artofchi #chicagoart #instachicago #chicagogram #realestate #realtor #showings #bestoftheday #photooftheday #myphotography #like #tag #share #repost #follow #igers #insta #mood #nofilter #happy #love #andreastrejo (at River North) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvzuYXeAwWK/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=r99ghqssxepp
Chicago Beauty đ amenity deck from The Cooper #southloop #chicagoriver #downtown #chicago #beautiful #love #incredible #artofchi #chicagoart #instachicago #chicagogram #realestate #realtor #showings #bestoftheday #photooftheday #myphotography #like #tag #share #repost #follow #igers #insta #mood #nofilter #happy #love #andreastrejo https://www.instagram.com/p/BvVRPBEARTv/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=mguytlqreazz
[Homelander x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.
WC: 3576
Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW â Homelander for obvi reasons}
In honor of Season 4âs weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)
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John fucking terrified you.
He terrified everyone, really.
He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.
But, the thing was...
You knew everything about him. Everything.
And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, itâs amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.
Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.
You could see right through her, and you didnât need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.
John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. Itâs been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.
But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.
And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.
How are you allowed to live?
That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.
After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.
She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadnât killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.
Not his stage name, his real name.
For being the most intelligent person on the planet, youâd think that sheâd be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.
A little bit of understanding.
"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.
The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.
"What?"
"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."
She snorted.
"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."
"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isnât about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."
She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.
"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."
Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.
His actions werenât excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.
He wasnât born a monster; he was turned into one. That⊠that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.
You respected his past; anything after that was on him.
"I donât like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I donât mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."
She rolled her eyes at you.
"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."
Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?
"Iâve noticed you donât call Deep or that fire chick by their stage names, either."
You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didnât take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you shouldâve been the big-brained hero instead.
And now, you really shouldâve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.
But you didnât say anything, and you really didnât say anything after a simple glance at him.
He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. Heâs done a lot worse.
Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasnât his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.
Relief, almost.
It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you werenât alone.
He had a friend, but he wasnât really your friend. You donât believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.
But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.
You had a similar history but different outcomes.
And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.
Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.
The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Voughtâs status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.
The theme this time, however, wasnât about the group. It wasnât about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasnât in the spotlight.
Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.
It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.
The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.
Except for one.
He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You werenât there, but you knew exactly how it went.
His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.
Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.
So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.
She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.
But, hey, that wasnât your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.
But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.
You werenât expecting it to last long; you werenât one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.
The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.
It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.
"Don't," he said.
He was clearly angry, and you werenât smart enough not to push. This is where Jessicaâs powers would have benefited you greatly.
You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.
"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.
His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.
He was a volcano, ready to erupt.
You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.
"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.
"Really?"
He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.
"Donât you have anything better to do?"
You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."
He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"
"Because youâre ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."
He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isnât fake.
"And why do you care?"
You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."
He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.
"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.â He pointed behind him. "Iâm sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."
That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
"Don't make me throw up, John."
The name.
It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesnât seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldnât result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.
He could've killed you.
He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.
He didn't, though.
No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.
After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.
Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasnât expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.
Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.
"Letâs have a chat."
Uh oh. Thatâs a code redâa sign of danger.
You were so done.
And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You donât know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You shouldâve listened and just punched fishlips or something.
You didnât, though.
You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.
But, for some reason, your death never came.
Instead, the two of you landed on the towerâs roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.
You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.
He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.
After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.
"Aren't you going to ask?"
Ask what? What was there to ask?
There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.
You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.
So, you chose something simple. Something easy, yet not so simple.
"Are you going to kill me?"
You wouldnât be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.
He didnât, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.
"No."
Simple and clear.
You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.
But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.
You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was⊠it was nice.
Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didnât turn around, and he didnât speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.
Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.
It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.
It was terrifying. He was terrifying.
"Do you remember your parents?"
The question took you by surprise. It wasnât what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.
"Yes. Why?"
His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.
"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."
Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.
Of all people, he chose to tell you.
You didnât know how to feel about that.
You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?
It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.
Why?
"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."
His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.
He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.
"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.
And he did, in fact, let out a snort.
"Understatement of the year."
You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasnât the appropriate reaction.
Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.
It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldnât remember anything.
All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments⊠nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.
It was a mockeryâa complete joke.
He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.
And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-
"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.
It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.
"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."
You could tell.
His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.
For you, it was⊠humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.
He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.
Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.
But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.
Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.
He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.
The action did not go unnoticed.
"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.
You shrugged. "I've just neverâŠ"
Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skinâŠ
Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.
The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.
The symbol, the image, the mask.
The facade.
This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.
"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you wereâŠ"
Normal.
The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.
But you couldn't.
He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.
"If I was⊠what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.
A smile.
It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.
A soft, small one, but still a real smile.
A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.
You found him amusing.
And just because of that, you didnât give him the validation.
"Itâs fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "Iâm gonna get a jacket."
He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him youâd take the emergency ladder down.
Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.
But something had changed. Something had shifted. You werenât quite sure what it was, but it was something.
So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.
He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.
Capable.
That's what it was.
He was capable.
He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.
He was capable.
All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.
So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."
Again, a smile.
The smile.
It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.
You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you werenât going to forget that smile.
The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.
A demon that was capable.
inspired by junji ito posing in the barbie box
THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL
Monkees but like, its a Pixar film or something
(These are filters)
Have any of you heard the news of 100,000 eggs getting stolen in Pennsylvania?
Happy Birthday Malevolent
Lee from the movie Bones And All
Because Timmy is pretty and I love bloody boys.
DAFUQ Pensé que era uno de esos platillos nuevos o algo asà (?)
I finally draw fanart for the Cass Apocolypse AU and itâs meme content đ„€đą
@somerandomdudelmao the conversations everyone will have when Casey gets back to the lair are gonna be GREAT đ
Rosy afternoons đ·
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