Another day, another migraine. Thats what your mentality was, at least.

Vought had hired you to be one of the main people handling the scripts for scheduled outings, primarily for the Seven. They were all pretty chill for the most part, but Homelander?

He was a pain in the ass.

As you sat in your office, he was rambling to you about… something. Who knows what at this point. He didn’t usually complain about scripts in the first place. Maybe it was that he was getting into improv more? Hell if you knew. Either way he was rambling your ear off.

“You can’t seriously expect me to see this as a proper thing I’d say, let alone on tv.”

He basically threw the script at you, holding no regard for if you got a papercut or not.

“I mean, ‘You’ll love it as much as I live milk’?? What kind of phrase is that??”