#ＳＴＡＲＳＵＰＥ ⸻ indie Annie January "Starlight" from prime's THE BOYS . Selective, mutuals only, low to medium activity . Mostly canon compliant with absolute exception for the pregnancy in that finale . No autoshipping with Hughies . This blog contains potentially disturbing themes such as violence, death, mentions of abuse, strong language and spicy stuff . If you follow me, I assume you're acquainted with the show's nature, so graphic depiction goes under a general #nsft tag . Flashy gifs get the extra tag #eyestrain tw. Do not follow if you're below the age of 25!
Pinned graphic [coming soon] by ♡ Dixon
Text dividers credit: pixopix
Gif packs credit: flymarlo
Links: MEMES ☆ HCs ☆ PSAs ☆ MAIN BLOG
Affiliates: tba
↓ CHECK THE RULES ↓
I go by Ava, 30+ years old girl from Germany. Ace.
Basic rp-etiquette applies. Don't be racist, homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic etc. you get the gist.
In character drama is cool, OOC drama ain't.
Whether you have fancy graphics or not? I don't give a damn, as long as I can read your writing and you, well, actually do write.
Memes are the best icebreakers!
No lying about being of legal age for gritty topics. I'm extremely uncomfortable chatting or ic-writing with people below the age of 25, given I myself am well over 30.
I have a job and am exhausted a lot of the time due to my responsibilities, this is why I might go silent for days in a row here and there.
We keep things chill here. But if we never write, I'll withdraw. Plotting and writing the thing isn't the same to me.
If you guilt-trip me, I'll reserve you a cozy spot on my block-list.
I don't interact with medieval fantasy, video games or cartoon/manga muses.
If we're mutuals, you can always send memes, DM or tag me in things. That's the whole point of being mutuals. So I won't interact with meme calls; send the thing because you want to, not due to an interpreted 'obligation'.
☆ I'm shook that y'all stayed?? This is so *ugly crying* nice, considering the confusion I might've caused with the change. Thank you! And again, I'm sorry for ditching the rest but if no inspo then no inspo. I was voice testing them all and Annie said "My place now." Bedtime. More shenanigans tomorrow!
PAIN IS WEAKNESS LEAVING THE BODY, MOM USED TO SAY. Or rather preach. Guess that's a massive bunch of weakness flooding out of her now, then, if heartaches count! Annie prefers to stick with what impossible standards were taught in order to avoid pitiful looks or any of the mostly fake 'Aww, what's wrong?' bullshit. Sometimes it's not easy, though. Kate caught her, cheeks damp and eyes swollen from crying for felt five hundred years ; it were probably ten minutes. "Yeah, I know."
Annie's retort sounds quieter than intended, precedes a halfhearted attempt at wiping her face dry with the sleeves of her hoodie. "Do you wanna go on about that", cue a mock-curious upturn of brows, head canting to one side. "Or can we skip the part where I pour my heart out?" Maybe she's being mean— can you blame her right now? Noticing the barbed tone of her own voice, Annie finally dips her head and glances away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be an asshole. Just-" Inhaling a deep breath, she looks at Kate again, trying to fake a smile. "Please tell me you came with good news."
Ah, already she can spot someone who's in a similar boat. No one wears that expression that hasn't tasted the bile that rises when safety is threatened by entitlement.
Katherine regarded her for a moment, watching all the micro expressions and body language. While she's not an avid follower of the supe drama, she is aware there are some incredibly problematic people in power. She steers clear of the whole situation if she can manage it.
"Because men still don't understand why we pick the bear, and until they get some self awareness well." She scoffed and finished off her whiskey. "We'll have to keep picking the bear."
The vampire's hand rose and she pointed to her glass and Annie's shot, calling for two refills. She's decided not to pry, a simple grace she'll offer for the moment.
"Klaus Mikaelson. The original hybrid. Prince of entitlement. Basically he's been hunting me for five hundred years because I had the audacity to want to live instead of spill my blood over a stupid rock so he could become even MORE powerful."
"Grade A asshole. Killed my whole family over it and still wont let me fucking breathe a moment's peace."
TWO BURNT CHILDREN THAT CAN'T ESCAPE THE FIRE. There are about millions more in this men's world, but Annie found Katherine here and now. And honestly? It's almost therapeutic to bash toxic guys, girl to girl. The next shot gets served and Annie picks it up without a smidge of reluctance; salutes Katherine with it in response to her bear comparison. "Well, cheers to that!" And downs it. The stinging sensation in her throat prompts a grimace, which lasts for about a beat, her curiosity is getting fed well just now. Annie listens, both elbows planted atop the table, a tad hunched over the edge and her eyes narrowing to a squint.
While the most important question still floats in her head, the supe's face gradually twists into a mix of bafflement and disgust.
"Your whole— What the fuck?" She shakes her head, mouth hanging ajar by a little as she tries to wrap her head around how someone gets out of this mess even remotely sane! "That's all kinds of messed up, I'm. Wow." A hard blink accompanies Annie's slow recline in her chair, palms dragged across the cool table surface. "I- I have so many questions", says she with a question's lilt. Maybe she shouldn't dig into the blood ritual thing ; needs more shots first. Another slow shake of her head marks the moment her mien softens into one of compassion, lips pulled into a thin line as if she's keeping herself from saying the wrong thing. Hesitation. "What's a hybrid, exactly?"
Okay, I've been faster than I expected. THIS BLOG WILL BE TURNED INTO A SINGLEMUSE FOR ANNIE TONIGHT. PINNED IS DONE, WILL BE RELEASED FROM DRAFTS WITH THE URL CHANGE.
This is your final reminder to unfollow if you ain't here for the lil starbeam!
No hard feelings ♥
☆˚— click the source link to find #398 gifs [268x150] of erin moriarty in the boys ˚s04 [episodes 6-8]. all gifs were made by scratch so don’t edit or repost. please like and/or reblog if you found them useful.
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☆˚— click the source link to find #376 gifs [268x150] of erin moriarty in the boys ˚s04 [episodes 1-5]. all gifs were made by scratch so don’t edit or repost. please like and/or reblog if you found them useful.
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Annie, having been raised in a toxicity bordering, strict christian household, deprived herself of many simple pleasures as a teen/young adult. Including sex. She lived being taught that, especially as a girl, she has to stay pure; otherwise she'd be labelled as 'slut' in one way or another. Now that she rebels against those restrictions, she's more easily tempted into said pleasures. Feeling as if she has to catch up on all the things she missed when others her age already figured themselves out. That doesn't mean she lacks standards, because hell no, not everyone gets that girl going. It just means that she's become a little bit adventurous in finding out what she likes etc.
R☆ckstar☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆: Lestat is dressed in a tailcoat that almost feels like home. The lace, the split button-ups, the padded shoulders with glittering corners, the ripped jeans, the leather collars, the veiled, expensive robes; all the modern gull has been replaced with something other. Familiar. Almost ancient. He is not without his flare, though. A colorful blouse underneath with an intricate cravat, pants with a matching pattern of his vibrant buttons, and of course shoes with a small, visible heel just for the hell of it. He meets Annie exactly where they conspired to: an abandoned theatre that no one gives a damn about anymore.
Of course, Lestat starts with Vivaldi before going into other pieces that tug at the ears with a reminder of the past. He captures Annie with his eyes first, inviting her to join him on stage with a smile and an offered cold hand. When he feels her fingers hook around his, Lestat lifts her knuckles for a welcoming kiss. "Don't sell yourself short, doll" he mutters to her, taking her in as he tugs her closer to him on the stage. "Disney's a soulless, corporate monster. Matter of fact," he twists her hand gently, inviting Annie into a spin to assess her gown of the night. "That's not how princesses are. I would know." Lestat winks at her in passing as they finally face each other again. The vampire kills the distance between their torsos by enveloping Starlight's waist while extending their locked hands up at a square angle. Then, with a relaxed posture, Lestat begins to sway them backwards, inviting Annie to a facilitated, fast waltz.
"You haven't missed the vibe," Lestat mocks playfully. "You look exactly how I would imagine an angel to." The rockstar grins at the world's superheroine-made-villain. The music switches and underneath the weeping notes of the violin, Lestat leads the dance with wide turns and rhythmic swaying. It leaves room for conversation without pushing on exhaustion.
"I am surprised you came," Lestat starts again as he glances at the empty audience chairs below them. "Not because of me, of course." He grins. "I was almost convinced you don't allow yourself to have fun anymore."
The hand kiss has her mouth hang open with a smile of unmasked awe. He's such a gentleman! Now Annie really feels like a princess, kind of even tossed into one of those old movies about royals... minus the drama. She spins on the spot as Lestat guides her, her long skirt twirling in harmony with the motion and glittering under those warm lights. The texture of his hand around hers feels softer than she's used to from men, but why would her focus stay on that when the vampire's voice is too captivating? However, he has a point. Annie's agreement might be silent, yet purses her lips and prompts a tentative nod. Disney and Vought are twins, huh? Yeah, she can get behind that. Just when she means to drop a comment after all, Lestat keeps on giving— angel. Well, that's some big talk. She can't help but crack a playfully chiding grin in spite of her face turning all shades of pink:
"Oh, stop it!" They glide over the stage as if dancing is all they've ever done in their entire lives. It's been a while for Annie, though. Especially traditional stuff. "Yeah, no, you're right", Annie confirms Lestat's assumption with a sobering expression. Not sad, just... well, this isn't something to be wrapped into giggles or lighthearted beaming. "Having fun wasn't anywhere on my day planner for a long", and a sigh later, her brows curve upward.
"Long time. Tragic, isn't it?" Why does she sound like she's 100 years old by saying that? She cringes at her own thought, not that being old is bad but a woman in her 30s shouldn't sound like it. Especially with the media industry promoting the harmful standard that women her age are the average citizen equivalent of 90 or practically dead. Momentarily so distracted, she accidentally steps on Lestat's foot. Immediate shock causes her to pull back a little, blink down and then shoot him an apologetic, doe eyed look and gasp:
"Shit, I'm sorry! I-" Geez, Annie! Lestat is a vampire, he sure as hell doesn't even feel that. Or does he? Well, this is the question. Her mien distorts into one of skepticism, nose crinkled, head turning maybe about an inch to the side without eye contact breaking. "Can I ask you something?" A beat of hesitation. "Do... do vampires feel any pain at all? I mean, the way humans do."
How the mighty has fallen. The once celebrated hero reduced to a pathetic mess all battered and bruised up, Annie could pity him. Really. But all the things he'd done? Kept a barrier between her righteousness and the soft part of her that would spill actual tears over someone suffering like he does now. If she pities him, it's really a teenie-tiny bit. Undeterred by Homelander's complaints, she dabs the moist cloth over his wounds; with professional gentleness. She might hiss the occasional 'Hold still' in between, utilizing her free hand to hold his head in place by the jaw like a mother would her unruly child. Why did she even pick him up? Annie asks herself this same question on repeat, inwardly, but it's simply how she's wired. Someone did evil, paid the price for it, and once they stop being a threat they should be granted a second chance. A chance at redemption. Is that naive?
"Yeah, I should have", she coldly agrees, forced to let go of him as he stubbornly tries to get up. Only to fall back. Annie's hands remained mid-air, the eyeroll should earn her an oscar— she could almost swear she saw her own brain for a hot second. "Jesus Christ!" Unceremoniously tossing the cloth into the bowl of sage water atop that coffee table, Annie decides to pin John with a glare. Contemplating. "Look", she sighs. "I know this whole situation is absolute hell for you. But that's what real justice looks like, alright? You put god knows how many people through hell for", a decided nod, eyes widening for emphasis: "Years! Innocent people."
She drags a deep breath through her nose, then shakes her head to peel her gaze away from this piss-poor excuse for an ex-superhero. "Actually, you're getting just what you deserve", Annie says as if more to herself than him. Yes, she thinks she deserves that weird as fuck situation too, for being so dumb to ignore the red flags long ago. For starting a resistance that cost a lot of people their lives. Oh no, she's about to hop on the guilt train now, isn't she? Squeezing her lids shut, Annie returns her attention to that bruised, swollen face. "So are you gonna keep yapping like a baby", cue an upturn of brows, one hand tentatively reaching for the cloth again. Calm again. "Or man up and at least acknowledge that somebody's gracious enough to not let you fucking rot in the streets all by yourself?"
just so you know when i see your annie pop up on my screen i always read her replies and i sob cause your annie is so good ;-; i had to share this fyi
DELLA WHAT. You can't just randomly come here and turn me into complete mush?? Thank you so much, though! To be honest, Annie is the muse I picture in my head most vividly when I write replies for some reason. Maybe this is... it? Why you think so highly of me takey on the ladey? IDEK. But given that you write an absolutely bombastic Starlight, I'm in LOVE with her tbh, just like with your other barbies, it's actually an honor coming from you. Now lemme ugly sob in my corner!
ain't that cute? deciding to place herself a step above him. the devil may care tone to her voice as they speak. her no one gives a shit come back? none of it really matters and only earns a roll of his eyes and a drag off his joint. he listens because there's nothing else to focus on. other than the silence. silence and him? aren't quite friends yet. might never be again. who knows?
tapered brow arches towards loose bangs. right leg stretches out until it's resting upon the ground. heel down. toes pointed towards the sky. if lips could shrug? that's how damn whatever the smirk is that forms upon his mouth. the roach gets placed between his thumb and index finger and flicked out towards the lamp post.
annoyed gaze cast over his shoulder towards her lasts for about as long as the exhale he aims towards the beams of light coming from overhead. "you expecting me to answer a question like that so we can avoid you answering mine?" that mouth stretches and the smile's honest. not taunting. not dickish. honest. someone with balls to stand up to him in a way that doesn't remind him of a spoiled child or a pussy playing catch up? that's the shit he appreciates. earns a level of budding respect that not many people get with him anymore. haven't for a long damn time.
feigned surprise. "you're starting to like me? is that what i heard?" doesn't give a shit about the toxic masculinity thing. been there, heard that. dozens of times. fucks given? zero and holding. "just when i thought i was outta shit that could surprise the fuck outta me. thought i was doing a damn good job at being the embodiment of everything you hate." shoulders hitch. "well.. other than the batshit nuts personal jesus wanna be that's currently attempting to get me playing soccer dad." sardonic half-laugh later, he's shaking his head and looking out towards the dark again. "fucking unbelievable.. all tha time in a fuckin' box and this is what i get to wake up to. a titty milk obsessed dickless nutjob wanting to play house."
Half-unwilling, Annie watches Soldier Boy's face phase from annoyance to that smile, but doesn't even think about giving him a smidge of friendliness in return. Silence. She slides the vape's mouthpiece between her lips to distract her loud mind from flinging back some snarky comment. Can't the others finally come by? Sitting here with this outdated fuckboy isn't exactly what Annie would count among anything on her bucket list. Besides, she doesn't really have one. Maybe should change that. Her mind drifts away at the temptation to mentally be not here, eyes on whatever silhouette across the street they can catch. Until Soldier Boy twists her words.
Seriously? Annie's attention snaps back to him with a frown, a scoff blowing the latest mouthful steam into the cool air. Nope. She's not gonna let that one slide! Although he's already shit-talking Homelander again; which is valid, but Annie stands up with a clipped:
"You know what", before stepping down the stairs to stand right in front of him. "For the record: I can not fucking stand you, okay? At all." The vape pinched between thumb and index finger of one hand, she lifts both in a sweeping gesture on either side, arms extended. "Yeah, you are an asshole, probably the biggest right after Homelander." Head inching forward, she adds a single, firm nod for emphasis. Eyes hardened, corners of her mouth downturned with underlying disgust.
"Everything about you is just so", a huff, one hand dropping whereas she gestures at Soldier Boy with its counterpart. "Gross." Well, Annie might've lied a little bit there. His face isn't gross and he probably has a damn presentable body underneath the uniform. Anyway. "So the only reason why I put up with you is because we both hate him more than each other, alright?" Is she done? Like relief lifted some weight off her, Annie's shoulders sag before, with the nonchalance of someone who didn't just go off on a whole rant, she brings the vape back to her mouth. Peeling her gaze away from him and half-pivoting on her heels for another check across the street for signs of the crew.
PSA: From here on out, I'll no longer plot with new blogs or blogs that haven't written much yet. Again I wasted time and ideas for the other party to up and delete their acc after like 2 weeks without warning. We plot when we're actively writing, period. Talking about plots and actually writing the stuff ain't the same thing and I'd rather utilize the plots with people who are into them. Into writing, not just making blogs and ditching them.
But Ava, how can Annie be friendly with vampires? They kill people.
The fact that she only met one and struggles to believe they are a thing shows that there's no reports on murders with blood drained victims, be it in the news or anywhere among superhero mission assignments. Which means, vampires don't go around to out themselves, though some missing people cases might go on their bill. Suspicions only. So they either nick blood bags from hospitals etc [this is bad too, but they try not to harm anyone directly by that], or, given what fetish abysses Annie saw when she ran into herogasm, it's very possible vampires feed on people who willingly offer a bite because they get off to that. There's also some who drink from animals. Point being, as long as she doesn't catch a vampire attack someone without their consent to "donate" blood, she gives them the benefit of the doubt.
Ya bet Vought would love to hunt them for clicks and $$$ so they found a way to survive without getting perceived.
New, yeah, she can't argue. A slim 'guilty as charged' simper accompanies her upward twitch of brows. Seems like running into a vampire, an actual fucking vampire, the other day opened a door or something. Now Annie's subjected to the next one of that species and has to realize that even they face struggles a set of superhuman powers can't solve. Hearing the snippet of Katherine's history with whoever Klaus Mikaelson is supposed to be, the former superhero pinches her brows together in disapproval. "Being threatened like that shouldn't be normal for anyone."
Well, cheers to that! The shot in front of her gets emptied the next second before she puts the glass back onto the table, had half a mind to slam it down. But the risk of accidentally vandalizing is considered quickly enough.
"And anyway", Annie huffs, her mien souring even further. "Why can't men decide not to be goddamn creeps?" She's trailing off, catching herself in the process blinks down at the small glass and pulls her lips into a thin line. Cue a dismissive wave. "Sorry, I'm just..." And a heavy sigh. Then her eyes are back on Katherine. "Who is that Klaus you're talking about? Or should I ask what he is?"
A weird sense of pride washes over Hughie, the same kind you get when you show someone your favourite film and they enjoy it. It's not like Coney Island's his favourite place in the world, but it is a part of his childhood, a part of New York, and, above anything else, he's pleased that Annie's had a good time.
The question shouldn't catch him off guard, but it does. He finds himself staring a little longer than he should, blinking stupidly. "Uh..." He looks away, a lie bubbling in the back of his throat. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he also can't bring himself to lie to Annie. Not again, not any more.
"No. Not really." He doesn't manage to turn to face her again, his gaze off to the side. "I don't know how much you want me to go into it. I don't wanna ruin the evening, y'know?" He also doesn't know how she's doing, which takes precedent in Hughie's opinion. "Are you doing okay?"
Oh no, she knows that look! Is why Annie can predict already that Hughie is not going to say he's okay. Which isn't a crime. Honesty is much appreciated, but she still hoped he would be fine. Worry pins her gaze to what little she gets to see of his face all turned away from her; the same plants a knot in the pit of her stomach. Now she doesn't even want to finish her ice cream— an Annie thing, nothing to blame Hughie for, by the way. Instead of answering his counterquestion, she moves closer to position herself in front of him. Free hand reaches for his upper arm without intention to grab it but rest the palm there for a moment.
"Hughie", her voice comes with a subtly chiding edge, chin tucked in just before she rears her head a beat later to look up at him. "You know I'm here for you, right? So don't pull this 'I don't wanna bother you' bullshit on me." Emphasis follows with a decided shake of her head, one. Forget about Coney Island right now. Annie's undivided attention is Hughie's. Blinking the sting of a breeze out of her eyes, she decides to drop that between-the-lines reproach: "What's wrong?"
