#sad blorbo

[homelanderbutbig]

Don't mind me, I'm just amassing a collection of sad Homelander screenshots for no reason whatsoever.

[rhiandoesfandom]

He's a nervous bean :)

Little pic of Blitz in the first chapter of my stolitz whump fic that I am having a very hard time writing lol. I'm sure it will be ready and able to post soon!

Enjoy!

[whispering-in-the-wind]

...I think I need help, the people I'm living with(Atticus, Felix, and Skye) all have this separate corruption personality thing and they keep trying to kill me when they're like this. I don't know what to do because they're all great otherwise! Just... There's nothing I can do.

I'm probably going to move out tomorrow, I can't keep living like this!

But I can't just leave them, they're my friends!

I don't know what to do...

[meenawrites]

Spider makes me sad again

Working on the Spider Project and I just want this kid to be able to look at the adults around him and say "I deserved better" and MEAN it. 

[iyamifucker]

“I can fix him” I couldn’t fix him and I don’t want to. I think he grew prone to biting and scratching in order to get by in a harsh world, and to me his resilience is part of what makes him so beautifully himself. I could be kind to him, though. I could show him gentleness. I could, slowly but surely, in the same way one earns the trust of a skittish stray cat, convince him that my touch will never come accompanied by pain. That, around me, he can allow himself to be soft. To relax. I could be the one he associates with warmth and safety, the one he longs to be held by after a hard day. I could be his home.

[aninternetwindow]

STOP EVERYONE IS HATING ON MY SILLY LITTLE BLORBO OUT OF NOWHERE 😭

Simping for him feels like this.

[craftbadger]

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but if you’re at a low point:

If you were a fictional man right now, there would be *at least* ten people if not a large portion of the fanbase that would call you their wet beast poor little meow meow

[the-heron]

Girls will say "this is my beautiful wife" and their beautiful wife is just a weird looking man

[gaysquares]

Fuck it we ball

Hey. Hey you. Artist scrolling the Malev tag. Reblog this post and show me all your Arthurs. Other posts for other characters maybe later.

[friendlycursedspaceotter]

she’s an artist. she’s got DID and it’s not villainized. her armor is a bunch of tiny freaks in a trench coat. she’s good friends with one sword and traumatized another as a child but they are rebuilding that relationship. she infiltrated the mafia. her husband supports trans rights and I think she does too but this hasn’t been confirmed and probably won’t be for at least 3-5 years in our timeline. probably more. she needs therapy but was probably one of the reasons it was invented. she’s also ginger. I’m not saying who it is but you know who it is.

[yakichoufd]

thank you for everything you do for cyclops fans and enjoyers of yaoi 🫡🫡

my pleasure, really!

[homelanderbutbig]

Homelander's Childhood Compilation

A collection of every mention of Homelander's childhood, from seasons 1-3 in "The Boys". I also included the season 2 promo with young Homie and his tutor, as well as episode 8 of "The Boys: Diabolical".

He's just a sad widdle war criminal baby boy and I wanna give him a hug. 😭

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

HOMELANDER COMPILATION LIST UNDER THE CUT:

Noise Compilation

Face Twitch Compilation

Childhood Compilation

Laser Eyes Compilation

Flight Compilation

Super Strength Compilation

Gloveless Compilation

Cape Flip Compilation

Fidget Compilation

Babygirl Voice Compilation

Ear Ringing Compilation

Smooch Compilation

Laugh Compilation

Mirror Compilation

Milk Compilation

[gomzdrawfr]

content warning: angst, MCD

this is a redraw of this doodle

extra note:

zoom

anyways this started because someone retweeted the doodle on twitter, I looked at it and went hm I wonder how the current me would draw this, so I did just that

[alchemistc]

Gonna be pissed as hell if Tim throws out a plotline to replace it with a three episode arc about LA on fire (what will Brad do when his house burns down?), which makes me a hypocrite and a half because here's some ripped-from-the-headlines bullshit.

Tommy's duffle lands on the bottom stair with a thump.

He glances around the space like he's seeing it for the first time - or maybe like he's just taking in the gravity of the situation. There's a quirk of his lip, an ironic shake of his head, and Buck can't quite stop himself from imagining the thought running through his mind. Despite his intentions, he'd landed here anyway.

They're both bone tired. Exhaustion seeping into their marrow, the kind of tired Buck hasn't felt like this since Texas, maybe. He wants a shower and about 48 hours of sleep.

"I'll take the couch," Tommy says, voice raspy, eyes refusing to draw towards Buck.

And the thing is.

The thing is Tommy definitely had other places to go. Other friends who would have put him up as long as he needed, people he trusted, people who cared about him. But it was Buck he'd found as things wound down, the both of them covered in soot and ash, Tommy dropping to sit beside him on the curb as they waited for relief teams to finish up at the command tent.

They'd stared at the burnt out husk of Tommy's home just long enough for the tiredness to really settle in.

"You're not taking the couch," Buck says, and flips the light switch in the downstairs bathroom. Tommy's shower gel is still under the sink, his fancy curl conditioner down to the last few dollops because he'd spent enough nights here to go through most of a bottle. They've already showered at their respective stations, but Buck knows from experience how much Tommy hates the Harbor showers ("You'd think a fire station would have better water pressure, but I'm telling you, Evan, it's about as strong as an eighty-year-old's dribbling piss.") and Buck knows he still feels like he's caked in days of grime.

"Evan," Tommy starts, and Buck can't read into that, refuses despite the way it knocks around in his chest.

"You need the rest just as much as I do," Buck argues, and Tommy's shoulders just... slump. He sighs. Nods his head. Shifts on his feet and accidentally catches Buck's eye.

The contact holds just long enough for Buck to see the tears swimming in Tommy's eyes, and he can't imagine -

It strikes Buck for maybe the first time how dumb he'd been to ask Tommy to move in here. Tommy had a life, a home, a place he'd spent a decade making his own.

He'd made a joke once about a firefighter living so close to the hills, the first time he'd had Buck over, that ironic lilt to his voice while he talked about replacing all the east facing windows the first time he experienced the Santa Ana's after moving in, and Buck had spent a good ten minutes watching the light fade from his backyard, dusk casting the hydrangea bushes in a rose-gold hue.

"If I hug you are you gonna make a break for it?" Buck asks, regretting the spiteful tone when Tommy curls further in on himself, but he ducks his head even as he's shaking it, and Buck doesn't fight the urge any longer, three long strides before Tommy's curling fists around Buck's waist and pressing his nose into the skin of Buck's neck.

("It's just stuff," he'd said, knee knocking against Buck's where they huddled together on the curb across the street, Tommy uncharacteristically fidgety as they both stared straight ahead.

"Come stay with me," Buck had responded, and felt Tommy tense so quickly he'd sort of expected him to bolt to his feet and leave.

Instead, the stillness eased out of Tommy's body all at once on an exhale, and he'd nodded out of the corner of Buck's eye. "Okay."

He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Tommy's knee. "Okay.")

Tommy's never been one to take more than his fair share. He breaks the hug before Buck can really get into it, sniffs once like Buck didn't notice the wetness against his neck, shifts backwards and sideways. He stops halfway through the doorframe when he catches sight of the canvas bag on the counter.

Buck just hopes Maddie actually bought the specific list Buck had sent her three hours ago. Tommy's particular about his stuff, and he'd pressed the point with his sister despite the eyebrow raise he could see in every text back she sent him. He can see Tommy doing the math - only so many people with a key to the loft, only so many people who weren't there in Tommy's neighborhood for a stretch of exhausting hours that hadn't amounted to much other than saving that purple house down on the end of the street that Tommy was always bemoaning for having a better garden than him.

"Tell Maddie thank you," Tommy says, still with that rasp to his voice that under any other circumstance would have Buck vibrating in place. When he digs through it, Buck catalogues his findings - that weird organic toothpaste Tommy swore by, the cheap electric toothbrush he refused to switch out for the better one Buck had a subscription to; a pack of briefs and socks in Tommy's preferred brand.

It's not the first time Buck has wished there wasn't a canyon between them, but he strikes the urge to quip, to smile, to reach out and try to comfort him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it free, glances at the readout and immediately feels the ire rise in his throat again. It's from Eddie, a private response to the group message he'd sent out letting everyone know Tommy had a place to stay.

Is that a good idea?

And Buck gets the point. Understands that Eddie has his best interests in mind, but he's not here, hasn't been here, hadn't been there when they rolled down the street to find three houses already fighting the blaze.

Buck can't hold in the annoyed snort, and when he glances up it's to find Tommy's eyes on him.

"I'm gonna go shower," Buck tells him, and manages three whole steps before Tommy's hand curls around his wrist.

He doesn't seem to have the words to ask, but Buck reaches back to strip his shirt over his head anyway and shuffles them both towards the shower.

It's the least sexy thing they've ever done together, if he's being honest. Buck hasn't felt this tired in years, hasn't felt this grim in years, barely has the energy to do more than scrub at Tommy's back while he rinses his hair. Perfunctory, is a term for it, except for the way Tommy leans into the press of his fingers when he suds up Tommy's hair, except for the way Buck drops his forehead to Tommy's chest while Tommy aims the showerhead at Buck's back.

This is the kind of stupid shit Buck had meant, all those months ago, even if he'd done an extremely shitty job of expressing it. This is the kind of shit he'd pictured while Josh waxed poetic about some television show and wondered if Buck saw a future with Tommy.

By the time they're rinsed off and toweled dry Buck can barely stand, but as Tommy's footfalls echo just behind his up the stairs Buck has just enough sense left to roll open the drawer he'd never cleared out, toss Tommy a pair of clean briefs and one of his threadbare LAFD shirts.

Tommy stares at the drawer long enough for Buck to pull on his own clothes. He blinks himself out of it only when Buck stubs his toe wrestling the body pillow Tommy always pretended he wasn't going to end up curled around out from under the bed.

The drawer closes with an echoing 'snick'. Tommy tosses his own towel in the hamper and makes quick work of dressing.

His hair is gonna be a nightmare in the morning. They're both gonna be absolute messes. Buck's pretty sure the only food in this place is raw flour and approximately seventy-five chocolate croissants - he's pretty sure he used up the last of his eggs trying to perfect his meringue technique.

There's a stiff moment after they slide into bed where they both just lay on their backs and stare at the ceiling, oozing into Buck's mattress. Tommy shifts first, and Buck's sure it'll be away - no matter how often they fell asleep tangled together Tommy always ended up hugging the edge of the bed, and it's not like -

"Is this okay?" Tommy asks, even as he's shifting a leg over Buck, hands finding purchase in the cotton of Buck's sleep shirt.

It's like he's been dosed, for the way Tommy's body sliding into place next to his steals all the energy he has left in him. He blinks once, twice, manages to get a hand in Tommy's damp curls in response. The rest of it can wait for tomorrow.

"Evan?" He's sinking into it too, Buck can tell - the weight of his arm and leg pressing Buck further into the mattress, the drawl of Buck's name drifting instead of sharp.

Buck hums. Presses lips into whatever skin he can find without opening his eyes - a temple, or a cheekbone maybe. "Go to sleep, Tommy," he manages, but if Tommy responds he doesn't hear it.

[kraftykelpie]

Sobbing like a fool laying in my bed because I had the sad thought of Ben and Cody on Tatooine in their old age (pre-ANH) and them going to sleep, holding hands.

Cody passes in his sleep. Obi-wan/Ben, feeling Cody's bright presence suddenly blink out in the force, shoots awake, palming for a heartbeat where he knows there is no longer one. They had talked about it, Cody had known his time was coming to a close, he was content with how the rest of his short life had panned out, by his beloved general's side, married and at peace (kind of). Ben saw it. He knew. When it would happen seemed indeterminate; if Ben knew when Cody was passing, perhaps he could have prepared to be ready for it. But real life doesn't often work like that.

Gently cradling Cody's cooling face in one of his palms, uttering quiet "why's" into the dark, and, "i wasn't ready to let you go".

A final keldabe kiss in farewell as he combs his fingers through Cody's curls for the last time.

Just like with Qui Gon, Satine, Anakin, Padmé (we'll be here all night if I list them all), the emotional gut punch of watching the light die (metaphorical in Anakin's case) in the eyes of people Obi-Wan deeply cared about. It caps off at Cody. This is why to me, he was so ready to face off against Vader (including normal plot relevant reasons), because not only was he getting Too Old For This Shit Anymore, but one of the strongest lights (love) in his life had died a few years prior. So instead of offing himself like a coward or giving into his grief all those years ago, and when Cody passed, he became a “self-sacrificial jedi” one last time. Whereupon he would pass into the Force, where hopefully, Cody would be waiting.

[paris-in-space]

Take his heart to Texas…