#VOUGHT INT.

[pintadorartist]

THE TRUMP-MUSK FUNDING GRAB: THE QUIET COUP

Since taking office, President Trump and Elon Musk have worked together to defund the federal government from the inside while consolidating power into the hands of a right-wing elite. Their goal is clear: gut federal agencies, strip public resources, and redirect power and money into their own hands.

Agencies Are Starved of Ability to Help People: Key federal agencies—including the Departments of Health, Education, and Transportation—have been forced into bare-bones operations, unable to implement vital programs we depend on.

FEMA and Disaster Relief Blocked: Funding for emergency relief programs is being deliberately slowed or denied, leaving communities vulnerable.

Social Security and Medicare Under Threat: Musk’s “Department of Government Efficiency” has gained full access to the U.S. Treasury's federal payment system, which processes Social Security, Medicare, and tax refunds. His team now has access to millions of Americans’ financial data and can manipulate payments.

DOGE is a Smokescreen for Dismantling the Federal Government: Under the guise of “efficiency,” Musk has proposed cutting $1 trillion in government spending, targeting social programs, education, healthcare, and regulatory agencies that protect consumers and workers.

At the same time, Trump and Senate Republicans are fast-tracking Russell Vought as OMB Director to oversee this attack on federal funding.

VOUGHT IS THE ARCHITECT OF PROJECT 2025

Vought wrote a chapter of Project 2025, which starts by outlining the role that OMB should play in implementing the massively unpopular playbook. If confirmed, Russell Vought will control federal spending. That means he will claim to have the power to:

Freeze funding for critical programs like Medicaid, public schools, environmental protections, and infrastructure.

Redirect federal dollars to right-wing priorities, including tax cuts for the wealthy and corporate handouts.

Defund regulatory agencies that keep corporations in check and protect workers and consumers.

THE PROCESS: HOW THE SENATE WILL PROCEED WITH THE VOUGHT CONFIRMATION VOTE

Monday: Motion to Proceed (MTP) passes, allowing debate on the nomination.

Immediately After: Republican Sen. John Thune can file cloture, starting the two legislative day clock before a cloture vote.

Wednesday: Cloture vote happens, kicking off 30 hours of debate.

Wednesday - Thursday: Senate Democrats must use the full 30 hours to expose this crisis and block the nomination at every turn.

Thursday: Final vote on Vought’s confirmation. If he is confirmed, the Trump-Musk takeover accelerates.

WHAT YOU CAN DO:

1.THIS LINK BY INDIVISIBLE LEADS TO A PAGE WITH RESOURCES INCLUDING POSTERS TO USE WHEN PROTESTING AND WHAT TO DEMAND FROM YOUR SENATORS

2. THIS LINK LEADS TO A CALL TOOL THAT PROVIDES A SCRIPT FOR YOU TO USE WHEN CALLING YOUR SENATOR. TELL THEM THAT WE ARE IN A CONSTITUTIONAL CRISIS

3.Fax: use this link and send a fax to your senator

4. Read through the list of Senate leaders and call a number

5. Contact Your State Attorney General by phone and email:

Minimal script for ALL state attorneys general: We are all learning that Elon Musk, a man who can’t even get the security access he needs to enter parts of SpaceX, and a band of unaccountable teenagers and business cronies, walked into the GSA, TTS, the U.S. Treasury and the USAID offices and took whatever private information they wanted, firing any civil servant who tried to stop them. [Your Stateians] records have most likely been invaded in violation of the Privacy Act of 1974, and as he’s now embedded himself in the Treasury department computer system, payments for Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security and other federal programs are at risk if the Trump administration decides to punish our state, [as he’s currently doing by holding fire victim funding hostage in exchange for extremist voter ID requirements.] Even the short pause from Trump’s executive order to freeze federal disbursements caused panic. We want you to sue the federal government to stop this corrupt and possibly treasonous attack on the privacy rights of our states’ citizens.

6. Contact the Secretary of the Treasury Department! – 202-622-2000

Minimal script for Secretary Scott Bessent: I’m calling to demand that you remove Musk’s access from all systems under your control, that all his equipment is confiscated, that his team is interrogated as to all actions they took under his direction, and that a computer forensics team is assigned immediately to check the system for integrity of its security systems.

More info on: https://indivisibleventura.org/2025/02/01/the-guy-nobody-trusts-with-a-full-security-clearance-now-has-access-to-all-your-private-data/

[homeb0ys]

They’ve finally updated the Seven Tower tour. Now you can see inside Homelander’s penthouse.

Link here: Vought Int website

Bedroom:

[hom3land3r]

Happy Me Day.

Vought Int Twitter Link

[fckindiabolicxl]

“ so, ” she starts without preamble, taking a seat beside him at the dive, and sliding a note to him, face down, with a single name written on it. “ what will it take for you to look the other way ? ”

Thumb slides underneath paper's edge. ❝ More than whatever yer pretty 'ead thought o' offerin' a second ago. Now tha' - that's jus' plain cheatin', luv. Droppin' a morsel in front o' th' junkyard mutt an' not expectin' 'im t' take a bite? ❞ Mock despair, hand over his heart underneath his jacket. Other grasping a cigarette, mid-puff. Smoke curls about his head like a makeshift halo, dark hair curling mock horns in lowlight.

His whole aura nothing but trouble. Danger. Someone you don't want to mess with.

❝ 'm jus' a man who makes 'is business off o' spankin' Vought's Supes back int' line with the 'elp o' some powerful friends -- an' y' come right fer m' throat? Some cruel mistress y' are. ❞

[wisefoxluminary]

INT - BLACK NOIR'S APARTMENT- DAY

Noir is lying on the floor of his ninja dojo apartment in the far reaches of Vought tower, fast asleep. Snoring loudly as his chest rises and falls with each exhausted breathe. His mask rests at his lap. The blood on his hands carrying its heavy weight as he drifts off to forget it all.

But the quiet goes away when Noir jolts awake. Hot Blooded by Foreigner suddenly begins to blares loudly through the walls. He twists his head to find Soldier Boy sorting through his drawers, slugging down a bottle of whisky.

Black Noir: "Shit!!!!"

Soldier Boy: "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"

Black Noir: "How the fuck did you get in here?! I thought Homelander was keeping you on lock down...

Soldier Boy: "Well Homelander ain't doing shit...I make my own rules now okay...which means I keep an eye on all the freaks you wanna get in my son's blowhole...

Black Noir: "Wait...Hold on- Homelander's your son..."

Soldier Boy: "I know right...lucky me, we're all one big happy fucking family...which means I'm gonna play neighbourhood watch around here. Which means you're all gonna report to me"

Soldier Boy sorts through the drawer and takes out the poster to Cirus De Vought. He looks at it amused.

Soldier Boy: "So this is the freakshow you get your balls fondled to? When you could get swatted by the big leagues as easily as a fly...

He dumps the poster on the floor and pours whisky all over it. He is about to set it alight when Noir rises to his feet and interferes.

Black Noir: "Whoa...Whoa.. whoa...I know you're trying to get dirt on me and shit!"

Soldier Boy: "Noir's dead...and they've got some nobody hiding behind the mask....so yeah of course I wanna know who you are? Cause I can't look at you without being reminded of that backstabbing motherfucker...."

Soldier Boy points an incriminating finger at Noir. He keeps his distance.

Black Noir: "You know man...before the Russians radicalised your ass...I was your biggest fan. I used to watch all your movies. I was an actor and I wanted to be like you..I wanted action in my life...I wanted danger, mystery, love, all these things....I practiced your Ghost of Hanoi monologue in the mirror every day before I went for an audition. But playing Noir I don't know what the hell I'm doing...they left me with nothing and now I just gotta not talk and stay silent all the time. I have been forced to kill people...I hated it but now it's starting to feel good. These sensations I'm going through...I don't understand what they are...it's like I want more...you know what I'm saying...my dick just goes hard every time I-"

Soldier Boy waves his hand in Noir's face, not wanting to hear another word.

Soldier Boy: "Your point?!"

Black Noir: "My point is...you knew Noir, you were teammates...Payback was the raw deal back in the day. I don't know what I'm doing. I feel I'm trying too hard. You're the only one that knew him...so what was he like? What does he have that I don't?!!

Soldier Boy: "You really wanna fit in with the cool kids around here, you gotta lick the semen out like a rosemary tart...

Black Noir: "The fuck?!"

Soldier Boy: "I'm saying you gotta stop being like him. You are never gonna be him. The Noir I knew....he was a fuck up...an attention whore who only wanted to steal the money and fame I had. I put him in the fucking ground and you know where that got me....I got locked up and treated like a lab rat! I see what you are...you're weak...you're hungry for power...to all the rest of them, you're just bait for the fucking alligators who want a piece at ya...someone they can use to clean up their messes...you step one foot out of line and they're gonna kick your face into the fucking curb when they're done with you. It's kill or be killed. Survival against the fittest and this world is gonna be at the chopping block of it all..."

Soldier Boy puts his glass of whisky down and stalks towards Noir, who stands there tense, watching in fear as he approaches. His hands grip tight onto his shoulders, almost bleeding into the seams of his costume. Noir is pinned against the wall. Soldier Boy's gaze pierces through him like he is threatening to cut him down at any second. Unwavering and scaring the living daylights out of Noir. Maybe some part of him is turned on by all this.

Soldier Boy: "So I'm saying if you wanna get the respect and love you deserve...you gotta get your hands dirty...you jerk off to someone getting their spine torn out...that's your call...Don't show them how weak you are, you act like a man and you tell them to back the fuck off...you show them a little wraith and you make them kiss your ass...cause' you need to show them that you're something you're not. You will no longer be an actor. You are a killer and you will make them fear you...the blood on your hands...it just makes you stronger..and that...that is how you're gonna bring this world to its knees...I'll be there to help you show them your rage..cause eventually everyone will leave you and I'll be the only person you've got. Call it method acting if you will...we'll show the word what real man we are....

Black Noir: "Show me....what can I do to impress you?"

Soldier Boy: "How about you don't be a bitch and put the fucking mask back on?! we'll go on a little hunting trip..you and me... you kill how many people you want...hell, we'll give it to those who have got it coming. I'm fair game if you are?

Black Noir: "yeah..yeah...I am..."

Soldier Boy: "That's my boy...come on! Let's mark our eagle's nest...make your country proud"

Soldier Boy pats Noir roughly on the back as he makes his way towards the elevator. Black Noir rushes hastily after him, slipping on his mask as he runs head over heels for Soldier Boy. For the first time, he feels understood.

Blackout

*end of scene*

[carrogath]

please call your representatives, musk has already caused people to die both in the us and globally because of his reckless actions. many more will die the longer he is allowed to freeze funding and shut down government agencies. russell vought's senate confirmation is tomorrow.

[plasticfangtastic]

Can we Be Lonely Together? Ch. 2

A Homelander x Stalker!Reader fanfic

This is a gender neutral fanfic but deep down its just a Homelander X Joe Goldberg fic do with that as you wish. This is a slow burn fic btw

PLZ FORGIVE ME I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PUT A READ MORE OPTION ON MOBILE SO SORRY IF THIS LOOKS LENGHTY.

Summary: We were two mices pretending to be cats, weren't we?

We Didn't expect to find ourselves int his situation, But John... Homelander... You were perfect... none of this was a lie, these feelings are genuine! So I don't know why you're using such words... stalker... pyschotic bitch? Insane... Liar!? to describe me, after all I've done for you-- Us!? all I done to help you!?

You were wrong.

I just yearned to get closer so what if I did my homework? After all you played along. I knew you knew... you were so loud

R18: TW murder mention, CSEM mention.

Chapter two

Financial Advice for Crooks.

I had my vices.

Life hadn’t been easy, I had limited options and limited paths for the longest time so when I finally had a taste of anything but misery I sank my teeth in its throat, I settled my nest in a corpse of my past– I found my calling. Got my groove on, and began to move up in my way to hell. I made my money, and I made connections, and eventually I got used to this lifestyle.

I thought you would’ve been impressed by how good I was at my job… 

So I came to New York for business. It wasn’t cheap, but unlike the usual dreamers… they didn’t come to this city with a terabyte of crap to blackmail their landlord to lower their rent seventy-five-percent below street average. So I treated myself to the finer things, expensive things… short lived things… so all the meals and wine money could offer, material things didn’t last, but I wanted to feel good… the sort of good where sex doesn’t compare, beside I could never be loved or love… until I met you.

So I devoured with gusto all the Michelin stars, critics recommendations in the Times, highest rated Yelp! review joint, hidden gems, and anything that failed to include the price on the menu... I lived for once. 

For I was starved… until now.

So there I was in some bloody fucking warehouse tied up, my left arm dislocated and a five inch nail adhering my palm to this facebook marketplace find of a chair.

Let’s not even discuss the state of my face.

“You think you can rob me!? I gave you my trust! I welcome you into my family! I let you babysit my fucking kids! And this is how you repay me!? Stealing from me!?” His voice was louder than any thought around me.

I could hardly see or hear anything, my eyes swollen and my ears throbbing, hot, stiff, my shoulders burnt, my hand itching, and screaming.

“I’ll… I’ll pay…”

“Doesn’t change anything, kiddo. If I let you live then word gets out in the streets that you can disrespect me, and sail smoothly!”

“I’ll pay you double the interest! Come on Roman! I fucked up!” I can barely think, my mouth is dry and wet– I can get you something good!” My throat rips itself apart trying to speak to this suited hooligan.

“Like I care… get this bitch out my face.” he said to some goon behind me.

“Vought! I can get you Vought!”

It's always on your mind. You become a petulant child when it comes to Vought– your biggest competitor.

“Excuse you?”

“Edgar is on his way out. The market is going to be in a panic, no?” I spit drool and my teeth– word is that Homelander will take the helm… you think that homeschooled twat can manage to run one of the biggest companies in the world? I’ll get you the trading secrets… I’ll get.. you anything…”

“How do you know Edgar is out? What are you saying?”

“My FBSA contact… they didn’t pay up, so I gave them a visit… and that Neuman chick was so fucking loud. Something about a big press release in a couple days, they’re gonna arrest Edgar. The Homelander wants him out.”

“Why do you have a contact in the FBSA?”

“I wanted to pay you… needed some Supe to blackmail…”

“You’re lying.”

“Keep me alive until you see the bitch on the news. Help me get a job at Vought. I’ll get you something worth more than One-Hundred-K.” I plead, my voice a tire running out of air– please… Roman… please I beg you… believe me one more time! even I wouldn’t lie about this.”

It might’ve been the fantasy that gave him the capacity to hand mercies for he kept me alive in that warehouse for two days, for your new girlfriend was on the TV hitting Edgar like an avalanche.

Cut to, three weeks later, there I’m in business attire sitting across an exhausted HR rep who can’t believe his boss is making him do this, behind the almost perfect smile, and the mundane questions he had already hired me, my resume was perfect and seeing the urgency pulling at his leash even if my resume hadn’t been finely crafted, your company would’ve given me the job. The department was stressed while being examined closely by the shareholders, the whole company was frantic.

I got the call by the end of the week.

By Monday there I was walking into that massive hundred plus storey behemoth of a tower, worse than any fugly billionaire row structure. I saw why people were impressed by this butt-plug of a building, just sucking on the land around it, hogging all the air space with its glass ‘Seven’ and its name illuminating the airspace, big enough to have its own gravitational pull and New Yorkers were the moons running laps around it.

Before I knew it I was dragged around by security to receive my special keycard with my fake name and all, then met the highest qualified person in this department, some sweet anxious thing called Anika, you know her– if not the smell of adrenaline she gives off when you’re around.

It seems people here were allergic to sunlight– any light actually! This couldn’t be good for anyone's eyes.

She handed me a desk, and well everything after that must be quite boring for you, so let me TDLR…

There was a reason why I chose this department. I could’ve aimed to be an assistant, worked in any other department, even been the fucking janitor and I would had been able to fulfil my task, but I knew that Vought had all the resources and cutting edge technology to get the fuck away from Roman Ban and Banvision Global. In here I’d forge a new name, destroy all trace of my existence, what little there was of my digital fingerprint, and above all… I could make money.

It wasn’t difficult. 

So I started with Kevin… sorry I meant… The Deep (ugh) his mind was easy to navigate, behind the mountain of cetacean erotica, self-loathing, bisexual worries, genuine environmental worries, his abs and octopussy fantasies– it didn’t take me long to find out his social security number, his bank account passwords and numbers, social media passwords, both private and public– did you know he had an account in the Jeremy Renner app? Anyhoo… I had all I needed written in sparkly ink, and swirly cursive. 

I simply had to sell some tabloid his web search history, or transfer small amounts at a time to an offshore account, small enough to go unnoticed disguised as his usual transactions, he had several trials and memberships he had yet to cancel-- I pitied Deep to a degree we both had been bad with money. I just didn’t spend most of my money donating to cults and environmental causes. 

As the days went by I collected passwords and keys from all suits worth a damn, and did my job to cancel those memberships diverting them to me, and taking small amounts, collecting and crafting packages to blackmail them, sending personalized emails demanding ransom, etcetera.

But I had a guy ready to kill me to prove a point, so I kept working.

The more I saw my plan coming together, the more brazen I became. I thought I’d be there for a month at most… so there I was staying till late. My mind still assaulted by the discovery of the depth of the Deep’s depravity, and his annoying wife, this wasn’t my first introductory lesson into bestiality… that had been in the fifth grade at a Wendy’s parking lot when my powers were at their worst– and he wasn’t the only person on this floor that indulged in filth, not even the worse kind, the worse was that lady in IT storing a hard-drive with the sort of shit, that will have the FBI shutting down Vought for a couple days to investigate why there’s kids stored in the company servers– which… I did… tell Roman about.

“Excuse me?”

I had forgotten till now.

“Yeah… Joanne in IT… you should… keep Ryan away from that floor, just saying ‘cuz she ain’t ugly and he’s vulnerable.”

I’ve never seen you so pale, almost as pale as the corpse next to the couch.

“Anyways I was saying…”

I love how family oriented you are. The way your heart was racing just now, the way your jaw twitched for a second, it was sweet how much you cared.

“There’s also that guy in security who’s been stealing shit to roofie girls.”

Your pretty blonde locks felt to the side of your forehead, as you cocked your head confusedly.

I sat in that screen lit room, waiting for the building to get as quiet as it possibly could. There were always people in this place, sleepyheads and night shifts. This place had become less phallic and more a living organism, every hallway and room serving a function to keep it erect non-stop.

Curiosity won over me and I love obscene indulgences, I have an appetite for things that do me no good. So I knew a place I had to see So there I’m in the elevator knowing the floor is mostly empty, and knowing I had the floor all for myself, knowing where every soul was placed and the password to erased the security footage (plus I had already blackmail the right security guard) I headed upstairs to a special place.

The ninety-nine floor.

Walking across the golden marble, crossing the wooden frames and the gallery of greatest hits with no artistic value intrinsic to them– I saw the statues guarding the Seven’s boardroom, and found an unlocked sliding door. The silvery "Seven" table, with all its sharp edges, the famous chairs every supe in the world wanted to sit down on– not me. 

I wasn’t pretty enough for the pageant circuit, my parents were… disappointed… to say the least… found me creepy, repulsive even! saying I kept them hostage in their own home, unable to keep anything hidden. I tried to control my powers until they could forgive me, anyone…could forgive me, so I never imagined myself in this room, much less in spandex.

So I sat on your chair, at the helm turning to see the best view of the big city.

Your statues and your painting staring down on me, you were unbearable, just a pretty blond in tights, with a padded suit even for your dick as if you needed protection from upcoming kicks to the balls. Everybody feared you, and if they didn’t they wanted to be you, you seemed so far up your ass– and all your staff simply indulged you, afraid that even an atomic bomb couldn’t stop your tantrums. Too afraid to tell you… even if your name was on the door, you weren’t running shit. All the actual work was done by your former assistant it seemed, just delivered dumbed down to your level by the time it reached this table for you to play pretend, and feel like a big boy. 

I was surprised you could even read, but then again you could shoot lasers out of your eyes and if rumor was true your piss was acid– so Jesus knows I wasn’t going to question it.

Your chair was comfy, and I bet all those numbnuts wished they could sit on it.

The view was worth it, I could see why people liked this stupid city– did my job and ate quickly but I wanted more… so thankfully I had a good book on my kindle and a juicy chapter to unfold.

Looking at the clock I cleaned myself and began heading out, my mind finally shutting down, it was the only way I could sleep, Soon I would’ve been awake trying to hold my head together… I know you were at my house so I know you saw the valium next to my bed, and the mix-and-match bags of sleeping pills.

I should’ve looked at the clock better, I should’ve hung in there, freely disrupting my routine willingly. It was nice to hear nothing, just the sound of my wispy breath and my loafers squeaking, in this silence I failed to notice you.

I failed to notice you had entered this place at all. Did you find it hard to sleep? Did you step outside your enclosure looking for enrichment? I wasn’t thinking that when I stepped into the elevator with my eyes glued to my phone, you weren’t on my radar. 

My heart nearly burst out of my chest at the sight of red gloves holding the door.

My bladder nearly emptying itself.

When your frame came into my general vicinity. I swallowed hard. Still had some cheese caught behind my teeth.

Nervously I looked up, catching the back of the American flag and your shoulder pads. Golden eagles caging me, frosted tips right before my eyes, and your hand pressing on the elevator going up.

My hand still hovering near the control panel aching to press down, your collar creeked as you turned to look at my insignificant presence.

“What floor?”

How polite, your voice so quiet, guess you hadn’t noticed me either.

“Ground… thank you.”

Your perfume was virtually non-existent, you were warmth, sunflowers and cotton. I had cats to kill it seems for I looked up catching your disturbed reflection in the chrome. Your eyes somewhere else, something about that picture made me too curious.

I turned it back on: feeling the burst, holding a wince behind my teeth. I found myself leaning against the wall, your ear picking up as I held my head lightly.

You found me annoying, dramatic, loud. I held back my breath as I fixed myself in the corner, just out of fear.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” 

I’m dead. I thought

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing you are!”

I…I…I am sorr– I began to mumble.

You weren’t saying anything, but it was you speaking. Screaming at yourself. 

That voice so rough and you became so meek, I took a quarter step forward-- in this small box I could do more than just listen, in the chrome your face moved, it spoke and walked in his few feets of space looking down on you, taunting you, remind you of today’s failures listing them as if he was your mother in the middle of math homework.

You could cry.

You wanted to cry.

You were a wave, a wave pulling me further into the sea and I had no idea how to swim any longer. How? How could you see yourself like this? Why do you let him act like this? 

When had you turned to see me? Had my leaning been too noticeable, could you smell the provolone in my tongue? My lips shakily pursed upwards.

It seemed the voice faded away.

“Did you get lost?” You looked directly at my badge.

“Heard they had mints in this floor’s bathroom.” where’s my fucking oscar!? 

Homelander mouth half open, too tired to react just shaking awkwardly but your half closed eyes watched me curiously.

And finally I saw your face.

Your eyes were so tired, everything about you looked exhausted, your posture kept straight by your suit pulling you up, but when your lip indulged in the joke. 

Magic.

My heart sang a song made in your honor, my cheeks so flushed it made me itchy. 

The elevator stopped but you didn’t leave when the doors opened, your finger pressed lightly on the right command.

“Who are you?”

“A corporate spy sent to steal trading secrets for your competitors”

You bombarded me with a singular warning “Don’t lie.” I lived in a world where nobody could lie to me, it got boring, it got insulting, hateful, cruel, so I wasn’t going to lie to you, not when I knew you wanted to decompress… with my spine.

You laughed.

It was so cute– you moved in slowmo.

You took a step back, listening to my unfazed heartbeat, I told you the truth but you heard a joke, maybe you needed a laugh for that voice was back to pestering you.

“I’m new. I was curious about the Seven’s gallery… sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.” You said with a jovial tone so threatening it reverted to being sweet– got it?”

Not a single picture, drawing, GIF, fancam, etcetera. Did ya justice, I could see it now… why everybody fawned over you, but I saw something else.

Behind those blue eyes.

Was the loneliest man in the world.

Your mind I wanted to peek more. I wanted to speak and decipher that voice in your head, I wanted to see why you hated those people under you, I wanted to understand what made you so upset that no matter how much you tried threatening me, it wouldn’t… it wasn’t making you feel any better.

“I’m sincerely sorry.” I said barely whispering but you heard it crystal clear– hope you have a goodnight Mister Gillman.”

The doors began to close as your eyes widened and your lips shaped an ‘O’.

I could’ve sworn your cheeks turned pale and pink.

Mine were candy apples, for once… I regretted saying Good night.

[homeb0ys]

Close up shots and details of Homelander’s costume. You can also get a 360 look of his epaulets, gloves and cape. Very handy for you artists out there!

📸: Vought Int website

[homeb0ys]

Homelander’s Penthouse apartment

📸: Vought Int website

[plasticfangtastic]

Didnt they staged it int he tower bcuz the Vought Labs were the only other place with novachek available in the city?

I never said SB wasnt a villain but he didnt appear any different from any other supe in the show... like i bet we will find out A-train used to abuse the rest of the Teenage Kix if we ever get some info from Sister Sage as she was kicked out of the TK.

The whole mistreatment of Homelander made sense to em bcuz thats a grown ass man that looks the same age as him is hard to feel an instant bond for some ppl in terms of family plus the whole speech Butcher gave him raised a few valid points... Ryan well that made no sense but he did abuse Gunpowder who was his sidekid (plus he is from the time where everybody hit their kids in general)

I swear it was only MMs grandpa that died that night and his dad died from overworking himself trying to get jusitice for his grandfathers murder.

Season 3 Finale Rant…

(Kinda sounds like my other post… 🤷‍♀️ Oh well)

I feel that Soldier Boy is an anti-hero and not a villain. He’s labeled as such because his morals do not align with those of “the good guys”.

Honestly, the show runners kept insisting that SB was bad and had to be stopped by any means necessary but they never showed us why he was apparently so bad. And no, I don’t believe that he “faked his PTSD induced blackouts so he could kill tons of people on purpose”. He’s damaged but he sure as hell ain’t gonna acknowledge or admit it.

Putting it lightly, he’s an ass in every sense but he was also the only one who didn’t go back on his word and betray those whom he had allied with while they shanked him. How does this make him bad? Even after Hughie tried to go back on the deal by teleporting away with Mindstorm, SB still kept to it. Frankly, Hughie is very lucky all he got was a punch in the face/chest. He deserved it too.

And from what we see, SB is not the one constantly on the edge of a massive breakdown and constantly threatening to destroy humanity because he can. That’s Homelander. SB got what he wanted, justified revenge on his former teammates for selling him to Russia. He only stuck around because he had made a deal with Butcher to destroy HL. And he was gonna do it too only for everyone to flip against him at the worst possible time.

The Boys better watch out. They literally delivered their only chance of defeating HL to him on a silver platter. Unfortunately we’re likely gonna have to wait until season 5 to find out what his plans for SB are. I’m betting “Winter Soldier” because SB is going to have massive trust issues, especially getting betrayed again, and he already showed that ‘family’ is not a motivation for him especially since there was no paternal type emotional connections made whatsoever between him and HL or him and Ryan. Despite the fact that he’s since admitted he wanted kids but Vought f-ed that up good.

It’s just too bad that I have very little faith in Eric Kripke to actually stick the landing on his ideas. At least Supernatural made it past season 5 before this problem occurred, The Boys didn’t even make it to season 3. The finale conflict was forced AF and I still don’t believe The Boys would spontaneously team up with HL over a damn kid. Not sorry Ryan, but you should be dead.

My opinion.

[homeb0ys]

Vought Int were so kind to give us a HQ Homelander pic. So of course I did what had to be done:

Original still:

📸: Vought Int Twitter