#Superhero Boy Poster

[funkidsfactory]

Bright & Bold Superhero Girl Printable Poster – Fun Wall Art for Kids' Room

Add a splash of fun and inspiration to your little one's room with this superhero girl printable poster! Download today and let their imagination soar! #PrintablePoster #SuperheroGirl #KidsRoomDecor Visit Us:- https://www.etsy.com/shop/FunKidsFactory

[rkzetto]

[ninjastormhawkkat]

What’s their breaking point when it comes to their emotions (when they’re bottling something up or trying to cope with something, etc)?

Gene and the chaotic four.

👀

Gene's is when he is forced to relive his past either through words or seeing the results of the past event that traumatized them. -loosing Carl and his best friend -the mind reading device accident -Maddrix's massacre Jenkins' breaking point is when someone keeps yelling at him and harshly criticizing his faults or seeing injustice happened to his loved ones

Patricia's is seeing reminders of her wife Tiffany or having to deal with reminders of her jerk family. Archie's breaking point when he deals with visual images of what Moran did to him. Also seeing Sunshine get hurt and blaming himself when it isn't his fault.

Hugh's breaking point....I think it would be stressed induced from his medical work. He would shut down if he saw his loved ones hurt extremely bad.

[jackiedaytona]

You guys mentioned accents and now the only thing I could think of was Maria mentioning the Maximoffs' accent. So now my brain has dropped Heve into those roles. We're going a layer deeper, making AUs out of your other stories

HOW DEEP CAN IT GO

(obviously henry would be witchy. steve would be an all american superhero)

[suzukiblu]

Canon divergence where immediately after making Superboy someone at Cadmus realizes how damn lucrative "we can make a designer baby out of same-sex or infertile or not even the same SPECIES couples and also make it any age said couples want" actually IS as a business model and anyway then they never need another government grant again and clones' rights get Flash levels of fast-tracked because literally every other rich person in the world has at least one or ten of said designer babies within the next five years. What, Lex Luthor did it, why can't THEY??

( Lex, somewhere: . . . this is not remotely the legacy I intended to leave but if I lean into this I will make ten trillion dollars, be worldwide-famous and adored/revered for the rest of human history, AND influence the evolution of the species more than any other single human being to ever have existed so guess this is my legacy now. also no one can arrest me for illegally cloning a Kryptonian metaweapon if I pretend this was totally on purpose, worst I'll get is sued for child support. /literally already writing the first check )

Teen idol Superboy is suddenly instead a poster boy for this new wave of test tube miracle babies and can't go anywhere without getting swarmed by people with questions about how this works, is there a catalog or something? A website?? And the Agenda has to decide between mass-producing clone soldiers or clone KIDS, because let's be real, the math on the profits/longevity/decreased likelihood of getting their labs regularly destroyed by pissed-off superheroes there is hard to argue with. If this means a grumpy lil' kindergartener version of Match exists in this theoretical AU and that Superboy IS getting clockwork-regular child support checks from Lex Luthor, then so be it. So be it, I say!!

Is that anything, fandom? Can we do something with that?? 🤔

[luvjunie]

pretty boy earth 1610 miles 745 words

Three gentle taps to the glass pane of your bedroom window alerted you of your frequent nighttime visitor, ten minutes to midnight, like always. Nose abruptly lifting from the book it was tucked in, you quickly set it off to the side on your duvet and smiled at the sight of Miles—still fully suited up where he stood on your fire escape as he gave you an excited wave. Seeing Spider-Man randomly pop up where you live would probably scare the life out of anyone, but you weren’t just ‘anyone’.

With a small grunt and an upwards pull of your window, you were soon face to face with the netted nylon mask of your city’s secret superhero—who wasn’t much of secret to you and your small room.

Miles immediately pulled his mask off so your lips could meet faster: his main focus, aside from the fact that it was thirty degrees out and he was losing feeling in his toes.

“Hey,” he pulled away from you with a smile that nearly rivaled yours, ducking down and climbing through to escape the prickly chill of the November night.

“Hi pretty boy, I missed you.”

He already had his hands on the bottom, ready to shut it when it’d rolled off your tongue like the simplest thing as you pounced back onto your bed. The window came to a screeching halt, literally, when he looked over his shoulder, eyes widened and blinking as if he’d misheard you. Seemingly unaware of the years you just shaved off his lifespan with those two little words, you glanced down at your book that’d flopped closed due to the movement of your mattress. “Damn, I lost my page.” you muttered with a frown.

“H-What?” Miles blinked, eyes remaining on you until he finally remembered to shut the window, softly, and quietly. “What’d you say?”

“I lost my page?” you repeated.

“Before that.”

You tilted your head at him, brows creased to match the confused look you wore. “I…missed you?” you laughed uncertainly, thumb and pointer finger riffling through the pages of your well-loved copy of Hunger Games: Catching Fire. It was a desperate attempt, really, trying to find where you’d left off. You were never one to dog-ear your pages.

“No, no,” He was facing you fully now, the small two strand twists he had in his hair shaking with his head when it moved from side to side. “The other thing.”

You looked away and at your poster clad wall, eyes squinted as they slowly landed on him again. Your voice, quieter than it was before, had a confused lilt to it when you answered again.

“…Hello?”

“Jesus fuc—” Miles nearly smacked his forehead, hands clasping together and pointing towards you instead. “Baby. What did you say after ‘hello’?”

You thought on it for a moment, relaying through the brief interaction. “Oh!” You sat up, calves tucked beneath your thighs and face brightened with an oncoming grin. “Pretty boy?”

“Yeah,” he scratched his head, eyes bouncing on and off your face and canines showing when his top lip raised into something of a shy smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Duh.” You scoffed, as if the answer were beyond obvious. Miles shook his head at you, a puff of air sounding from his nose in the form of amusement.

“Don’t think I’ve heard that one before. Boys aren’t usually called pretty, but I’ll take it.”

Slowly lowering himself, Miles let out an unpleasant groan when his hip touched the ground, far too young to have his joints aching the way they did. Laying down on your sherpa rug, he sprawled out on his back and let his eyes close, like he always did during his night visits. He’d stay for an hour or so, talk with you, get patched up if needed (which was rare), or sometimes take a power nap so he could swing the rest of the way back. And after surveying the city he knew better than to even think about touching your bed. In his outside clothes was bad enough, now his suit? Absolutely not. He was more than satisfied with the floor.

“Yeah, well I think you are.” Laying flat on your stomach, you pressed your cheek to your folded arms and marveled down at your exhausted boyfriend from the height of your bed. “Everything about you is pretty. Like your eyelashes? They’re gorgeous, and for what? It’s lowkey unfair.”

“Aight you’re draggin’ it.” he laughed.

“I’m serious!”

a/n: pretty boys >>>

[tom-whore-dleston]

Denial and Devotion

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 880

This fic contains: preludes to smut, implied smut, amnesia, mentions of squirting and fingering, reader was a Soldier Boy fangirl (like me fr xD), toxic celebrity culture?

Summary: You are in denial that you slept with the Supe you used to crush on.

Notes: I'm just a girl that writes Soldier Boy fanfic at 2am knowing damn well I have work at 9am flksdghk this gif replays in my brain every waking moment of the day I literally hate how hot he is >:( This is my weekly contribution to @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt no. 241: Hour of Denial

The moment you rose from your slumber, you knew something was wrong. First off, you woke up in a room that you did not recognize. Then, you realized the cotton sheets of the unfamiliar bed clung close to your bare skin as if you had slept in it before. 

You attempted to lift yourself out the bed, but your muscles were weak, soreness more prominent in your hips and thighs. As you winced in discomfort, your eyes widened upon the discolored love bites scattered over your body. Your eyes finally glanced to the opposite side of the bed, only to discover the person occupying it was none other than Soldier Boy.

When you were younger, Soldier Boy was your first crush. At the time, he was presumed dead, but your father would tell you stories about how he was one of the greatest superheroes to ever live. Your childhood room was covered in Soldier Boy posters and you had a doll of him that never left the box. As you got older, you conducted more research on the man you worshiped, but eventually learned that he was a monster in a superhero costume. As a result, you ripped the posters to shreds and finessed some cash off the doll in hopes to erase any trace of your Soldier Boy phase. 

You stared in disbelief at the same man that lay peacefully asleep. Your mind raced with questions. The only logical answer to all of them was that you were dreaming. To test the theory, you pinched your forearm as hard as you could. After cursing from the pain, you tried another method by poking Soldier Boy in his meaty bicep. Without fluttering his eyes open, he grunted in annoyance and rolled over. 

If your head wasn’t already spinning, it definitely was at this very moment. You slithered out of the bed, making sure not to disturb the sleeping man, and frantically searched for your clothes. In a hurried attempt, you shimmied back into your little black dress from the night before. Regardless of whether this was all a dream or not, you silently vowed that you are remaining sober for the rest of the month. 

“Where you going so fast, sweetheart?” You turned toward the groggy voice that belonged to Soldier Boy, who was propped up against the bed frame with his muscular torso in view. It felt as if no time had passed since the beginning stages of your devotion to Soldier Boy. Your eyes scanned over his physique with a hunger that only he could satisfy. Heat radiated your body and you stood paralyzed in your unzipped dress, leaving enough uncovered for his imagination to run wild.

As Soldier Boy hopped out of bed, you swiftly turned away as his thick cock unveiled from the thin sheets. He began walking towards you, but you ignored him by fiddling with the zipper on your back. You grew frustrated with the zipper’s defiance the closer the beefy supe inched towards you. His intense stare begged for your attention until he took matters into his own hands by lifting your chin up to his gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest as his green eyes studied your face. Except there was no studying necessary.

“I’m a little embarrassed by this,” you laughed nervously, “but I don’t remember anything from last night.”

Soldier Boy smirked. “Want me to give you a reminder?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” You paused. You may not have been as infatuated with the supe as much as you once were, but you didn’t want to come off as rude. “I mean…I’m sure last night was great but I shouldn’t impose-“

“Great? Well if you define squirting on my fingers and cock until you begged me to stop as great then maybe I gotta fuck you harder.” 

You were about to let out a moan, but quickly masked it with a sigh. Every part of you wanted to hate him but the ache in between your legs betrayed your voice of reason.

“You can play the ex-fangirl game all you want, but you and I know you never truly get over your first crush.” There wasn’t a more pathetic feeling than regressing back into that naive girl who treated a flawed superhero like a god. 

Suddenly, your back hit the wall and Soldier Boy towered over you, his arm the only thing keeping him from pressing you against the wall to grind into your core. His free hand hooked under the strap of your dress, slowly pulling it off your shoulder. As the dress pooled around your feet, he lightly kissed the crook of your neck, electricity coursing your blood as his beard pricked your skin.

His hot breath fanned over your ear. “There’s no need to deny me anymore, sweetheart. I’m here for you to worship and fulfill all your pretty little fantasies.”

Fuck it.

All your common sense flew out the window as you desperately smashed your lips against his. Gripping your wrists, he pinned you against the wall before grinding his semi hard cock against your wet pussy. 

Soldier Boy may have been the biggest pain in your ass, literally and figuratively, but he was right about you never fully recovering from your first crush.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

[yns-world]

Queen of Hearts

Title: Queen of Hearts

Pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of physical and mental anguish

A/N: dc/the boys au sort of. fem reader. 

dare i say fatima is coming out of retirement??? we don't know....but we enjoy whatever fics we can LMAO

i just finished the first season of the boys and i absolutely love my man homelander 😩 my dms are fully open for any and all homelander requests--hcs, drabbles, stories, etc!!! lmk if y'all wanna see more of this supe!reader :) (please keep your requests spoiler free thank you)

as always, enjoy!

Queen of Hearts. America’s Heart. The healer for The Seven. One touch from her can soothe any pain and mend the fragments of the mind and body.

From a very young age, Y/N was dubbed to have “angel hands”, with the ability to mend her family’s aches with just a single touch. By the time she was in high school, she was mending to her friends and their stress-induced ailments. With one brush of their hair, she was able to relieve them of all the mental or emotional discomfort.

When the recruitments for the next member of The Seven were open, Y/N applied because she had thought that she could provide aid in the face of all the misery and destruction that is left behind in a superhero’s wake.

She got in, of course. But she also got more than she could chew. 

Y/N’s original hero name was going to be “Angelica”, to pay homage to what her father would call her gift of “angel hands”. Vought had other plans.

“From now on, you are the reigning Queen of Hearts!” A contract broker exclaimed. Confusion painted Y/N’s face.

“I thought I was going to be Angelica?”

“Angelica is just another name, and you are not ‘just another person’. You are going to save millions, you are going to have an entire kingdom of dutiful followers that will worship you-- a benevolent monarch that bestows mercy on all those in her way. You will tend to those who suffer the greatest of pains: a heart shattered by grief.” Y/N didn’t know if she was speaking with a lawyer or a salesman from the sound of his spontaneous speech. From that day forward, her fate was sealed. 

From the very first press conference of her debut, Y/N was merely a little girl of the past, and the Queen of Hearts had begun her infamous reign. 

Signing posters with her face on it, performing interviews on talk shows, the Queen of Hearts was just getting warmed up for the real rally. 

When it came to the devastating wars and protests that went on in the nation, the Queen was sent to inspect the scene. Of course, the Queen always outperformed. Visiting house to house, sitting down with not just the victims, but the neighbors of the victims. Getting to know each and every citizen that could even have heard about what travesty had gone down. And during these visits, the Queen would have a healing hand on the people while her voice poured honey into their ears.

It worked. Each and every time. Just like how Vought wanted.

What people don’t realize, what people refuse to discuss, is how her powers work.

Her powers neither heal nor destroy, they simply conduct the transfer of pain into her body. She feels everything they have felt, she swallows all the things that their body has been fighting off. And she carries these burdens with her.

Her career with The Seven was lucrative in the first few years. What the nation needed most was not just a hero, but a mother. The Queen of Hearts provided that. 

Vought had trained her how to take on the burdens of thousands of people at once, but lacked in training her how to dispose of the weight she now carried.

When she was younger, Y/N would go into periods where she would shut herself off from the world. For weeks at a time, she would be paralyzed from the anguish, she could feel the poison slithering up and down her body like a parasite, and she would silently pray for death. 

But the Queen can’t just take time off from her role. With nowhere else to turn, she drowns out her sorrows in the only alternative-- fight grief with the cause of grief.

“According to Insider information, it appears that the Queen of Hearts is allegedly dating notorious criminal and psychopath, Joker. When asked for a comment, the Queen replies with: ‘He’s a person, too.’”

Feeling too many feelings all the time, hearing so many shouts of terror and agony in her head, the only antidote she seeks for is the exact opposite-- a man that couldn’t care less for the public. A man that bestows this agony onto others.

If Y/N could never escape from this hellhole of a life, then maybe the Queen could have a taste of what it’s like to live a different life. 

On his wild, maniacal hunts for money and killing, the Queen would be riding shotgun while the Joker took the wheel of his gold-decked lamborghini.  

Vought was pissed when the news broke out, but there wasn’t much they could do but assign the Queen smaller missions out in the middle of nowhere to try and “separate” her from the Joker until the news died down. But the Queen was tired of listening and bowing her head. And she also learned of how much they needed her rather than her needing them. 

Everytime the Joker would start a fiasco with dozens of victims, who would be the first at the scene? None other than his loving girlfriend, of course.

The public reaction might’ve been worse for wear in the beginning, but now that the Queen is doing damage control for her maniacal boyfriend, the public sees no problem with this relationship. 

If anything, it has opened the minds of thousands, and created a path for heroes and villains of all kinds to band together. And of course, where there’s money to be made, the companies come swooping right behind them.

But there came a time when the Joker took it too far, when not even the mother of the nation could undo his wrongs.

On his insatiable conquest for hell on Earth, the Joker attacked a nuclear power plant in an attempt to dismantle a system that was already built on the blood of its people. 

The Queen of Hearts was at the scene before first responders or the press, and what she saw alone left her writhing. 

The shrieks of innocent civilians, pounds of flesh and skin melting off the bone, shaky hands reaching out from the ground for a savior. 

The people needed a savior. 

The people needed a god.

She could not be what they needed her to be.

She fought that instinct to flee for so long, she pushed back and stayed for years. She gave up skin into the game, she thought that she had killed off that child inside of her. But it was in this moment-- where everywhere she looked was another soul begging to be put out of their misery, where there were thousands of souls waiting to be added onto the tremendous weight she already carries-- was when all of that weight finally cracked. 

Queen of Hearts looked up at the night sky, expecting to see stars but only to be met with clouds passing overhead. 

Well, one star did strike through the suffocating fumes-- Homelander.

She met his face, her eyes were filled with despair and her face twisted in despair, and he gave her a reaffirming nod. He would take it from here. 

Homelander watched as the Queen’s mask fell from her face and Y/N bolt into the night-- just before anyone noticed.

In the following weeks since the nuclear plant incident, Y/N holed up at the tower. Both the heroes and corporate knew it was better this way.

“Let sleeping dogs lie.” Stillwell said.

When she finally emerged from her self-induced banishment, the Queen was reborn. 

Stillwell hosted a PR conference the size of which whenever she would debut another hero. And that she was.

“I introduce to the world a new era of superhero. Please welcome, Sultana!” Out from the curtains came the new and improved Y/N. Replacing her red and black garments from her Queen of Hearts days was a lavish gold and evergreen suit.

New suit, new hair, new smile.

This time, Y/N knew better. 

This time, Sultana would stick to the script. 

The script included her being with Homelander, and she was fine with that. During team-ups, during walks across the red carpet, during meetings with Congress, Sultana would be right by Homelander’s side with a smile and a pleasant wave. Just like Vought intended.

Just as Homelander wanted it to be. 

Afterall, they weren’t superheroes, that’s foolish to think they are.

They just played a pretty part, and gave a bright smile. 

DON'T BE A GHOST READER! let me know your thoughts and how you feel about this fic!!! i love talking to each and every one of y'all <333

lmk if y'all wanna see more of this supe!reader type of stuff...or if y'all wanna see this specific character :D

if you enjoyed this post, then please consider reblogging :) every little bit helps and i greatly appreciate it <3

i'm open to homelander requests as of right now, so feel free to drop your ideas!!!

as always, please check my pinned post for request rules and the fandoms i write for :)

[multifariousqueer]

im starving for 42 miles and i agree w ur hcs so can u pls write a fem reader fic where we’re chilling at home n he js barges in one night all roughed up n he has heaps of cuts n is bloody- and we get concerned but we know not to ask so we js silently patch him up while he stares at us (and hes got like sm thoughts in his head ab how much he loves us and appreciates us etc) and u can finish it off BUT YEAH

also pls include the pet names cos his accent has me WEAKKK and ik he def calls us ma and mami😩😩😩

Ofc Love!!! I’ve wanted to get this done for a bit now so here it is!!:

A/n: keep requesting miles!42 and regular miles fics please!! 🩷

Warnings: suggestiveness at the end, make out sessions, angst, fluff, groping(it’s consensual and it’s only seen when you squint), love confessions, possible spoilers if you haven’t seen atsv yet

3:00 AM

You: miles, baby are you okay?

Seen

You: are you mad at me for the joke I made about your braids being fluffy?

Seen

You: I didn’t mean it

You: text me when you can. Love you 🩷🩷

Seen

You fell asleep exasperated like you’ve been doing for the last three weeks now. Miles hasn’t been answering any of your texts or calls and has been leaving you on seen for no reason. When you did see him in person, he looked tired and diminished. Ever since his dad died, he’s been acting weird like this; but you could understand why. Although him and Uncle Aaron were closer, Miles was still really close to his dad and his dad loved you. You came over Rio and Miles’ house every day since then and tried to provide solace to them but Miles was always gone when you came over. His room looked different too, having ditched the bright superhero posters and traded them in for boxing gloves and a punching bag. Thankfully, you had established trust with Miles and he knew he could come to you any time, you just didn’t expect him to come through your window at 4:00 AM on a Saturday morning.

It was about 3:15 when he saw your message, he wondered why you were still up and what were you doing but he couldn’t ponder the question for too long because he had someone chained up to his punching bag.

“Miles? Get off your phone, man.”- Uncle Aaron’s voice brought Miles back to reality

Miles did as told and geared up to kill the young boy who looked exactly like himself when all of a sudden, the chains fell and the doppelgänger swung at Miles’ perfectly structured face. A few of the punches connected but he was still able to subdue the mirrored image of himself(if everything went right).

However, Miles’ suit had been clobbered, his clothes covered in blood from a broken nose and blood from the fight. Even though he won, he couldn’t go back to his house because his mom would admonish him for this and Uncle Aaron was keeping watch so he went to your house.

You heard faint tapping on the window that you had assumed it was a bird, until the tapping became a loud knocking. You scurried up grabbing the nearest thing that looked like a weapon and went to the window. You found a battered Miles and knew something was wrong:

“Miles?”-you whisper shouted

“Ola mi amor” he said, trying to be suave but flinching in pain

You opened the window and let him in. You knew he was rough and bloodied up for a reason but it was late(or early depending on how you look at it) and you knew he wouldn’t tell you why; a small part of you also knew but chose not to acknowledge it. You just silently grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up as best as you could. You noticed he had a broken nose:

“Rough night?” You Said, trying to ease the tension

Miles didn’t reply, rather he looked at you through bruised eyes and simply nodded.

“Your nose is broken. You should probably go the the hospital for that” you said, nonchalantly

“Can’t you fix it?” He mumbled

“not easily” you mumbled, mocking his tone

He gave you an annoyed glare before saying:

“I’m sorry to come in late like this. And I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, Mami; it’s a lot going on that you wouldn’t understand and I’m trying to protect you.”

“It would’ve been nice for you to call or text” you said while closing the first-aid kit.

“I knew you would’ve worried about me and I didn’t want that” he said, hanging his head

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s my job to worry about you” you chuckled

It was like a Disney movie, Miles realized that if no one else would, you would hold it down for him and that you were gonna be there through thick and thin. He knew he loved you but this solidified it in his mind; he knew that if he survived long enough, you were gonna be his wife. It would be you waking him up everyday, it would be you kissing him goodnight and good morning, it would be you carrying and having his babies. Some days, he would wake up and wonder how he got so lucky with someone like you but he never thought too much into it because he knew he would find a way to sabotage it for himself but now, he didn’t care:

“I love you, Y/n” he said

“I love you too, Miles” you replied softly

“No. I mean like I love you so much that I can’t stand it, I wanna marry you, Y/n and be with you for life. If no one else has me, I know you do and I can’t even imagine myself without you.” Miles said

You started to tear up before crashing your lips onto his. Your lips moved in perfect sync as he grabbed your hips with one hand, and cupped your face in the other. You stayed this way for a while until Miles slipped his tongue into your mouth, battling for dominance against your tongue which he emerged victorious. He started moving his other hand to your ass as you moved yours to his chest when suddenly, you hear your parent call out:

“Y/n!!!”

“Yeah” you replied nervously, Miles leaving a trail of kisses down your neck

“Breakfast is ready” they shouted

You looked at your phone as Miles rubbed your back and saw it was 8:00 already.

“Shit” You Said under your breath, partly because of how Miles was making you feel

“Go Mamà, we’ll finish this later” he said against his neck

“Okay I love you, call me this time” you smiled

“Por supesto, Mami” he replied

You went down for breakfast and sat in your normal spot:

“Y/n?” Your parent said

“Yeah?” You replied

“What’s that on your neck?” They smirked

Damn it Miles

Translations

Por supesto- of course

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Series masterlist

Nomad Steve Rogers x Baker Reader

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Chapters 1-18

⋆｡°✩ Chapter one: Welcome to Greenwood

⋆｡°✩ Chapter two: Inhale, Exhale

⋆｡°✩ Chapter thee: Nice to be Needed

⋆｡°✩ Chapter four: Captain-What’s-His-Butt

⋆｡°✩ Chapter five: Absdoughlutely

⋆｡°✩ Chapter six: Sunflower

⋆｡°✩ Chapter seven: Beautifully Natured

⋆｡°✩ Chapter eight: The Brewing Storm

⋆｡°✩ Chapter nine: Doomsday

⋆｡°✩ Chapter ten: The Snap

⋆｡°✩Chapter Eleven: Courage

⋆｡°✩Chapter Twelve: Homecoming

⋆｡°✩Chapter Thirteen: Cardboard Castle

⋆｡°✩Chapter Fourteen: Cinnamon Roll

⋆｡°✩Chapter Fifteen: Everything will be Okay

⋆｡°✩Chapter Sixteen: Crawl Home to You

⋆｡°✩Chapter Seventeen: Endgame

⋆｡°✩Chapter Eighteen: Good Luck Charm

⋆｡°✩ More fun stuff extended masterlist ⋆｡°✩

[mandosaur]

This Little Slice of Life (Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Film

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Word Count: 1,025

Estimated Reading Time: 3:43

Summary:

A tiny little drabble that takes place before the film's events.

When you imagined what your life was going to be like as an adult, you didn’t imagine this.

In your dreams, you saw yourself as a world famous pop star. You imagined yourself in sequin dresses that would cost a fortune standing before a stage of wild fans all screaming your name. You saw yourself on every magazine cover, touring every country, and attending the Met Gala. Paparazzi would flash your photos in your day dreams all while you rode in a limo spending thousands on any little thing that caught your fancy. You had always imagined a life of luxury and wealth for yourself as an adult.

You never imagined your current life.

You never imagined that you’d be in your mid twenties still living in the same street you grew up in. Never imagined that the fancy little college degree you got to appease your parents would bring you nothing but student loans that kept piling on. You didn’t think you’d be working some dead end job for minimum wage at a company with a shitty boss and worse hours just barely scraping by.

However, despite the huge deviation from what your childhood dreams believed would be a good future for you, you find you can’t be happier.

There’s something warm and familiar in the way your life works. Like a puzzle piece clicking together, everything just seems to work. Your life isn’t glamorous or extravagant the way your elementary school dreams all mapped out, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Hell, you wouldn’t trade Mike or Abby for the world either.

Mike and Abby were perhaps the greatest riches you had. Mike had been your childhood best friend. You’d met him in the first day of Pre-K. A little boy holding a metal, superhero lunch box while his mom and dad kissed him goodbye. You’d befriended him on the playground of that first day and formed a friendship that had lasted all your lives.

You’d known him forever. Been there for him when Garrett had been taken, when his parents had died, and when he’d become Abby’s guardian. You’d always been there at his side.

First as a friend, then as a lover.

When you both turned 16, you had started dating. A simple choice between you both. By then, you’d both loved each other and had been pining for years. It was only natural for the two of you to start dating. Both of your parents encouraged the shift and the two of you were very happy.

10 years later, and the two of you had been together for a long time. You’d moved into the little home he shared with Abby. You shared his bedroom and was there to take care of Abby when Max couldn’t. Abby too was a joy in your life.

She had been born when you two were older and you and Mike had become her guardians. Abby really only knew the two of you. She doted on Mike, treasured him deeply if her drawings with him center stage were anything to go by, but she adored you too. She talked to you more than other kids her age, liked you staying home with her when your work allowed it, and drew you in some of her drawings holding hands with her and Mike.

She was a little gift in the life you had just like Mike. You loved them both deeply to the point where nothing else mattered.

To you, it didn’t matter that both you and Mike didn’t have money. Between your student loans and both your minimum wage paychecks, you two weren’t raking in much. Neither of you could boast being wealthy, hell, sometimes you couldn’t even boast being comfortable either.

But that didn’t matter.

Every day that you woke up to that poster of Nebraska on the ceiling and Mike next to you, every day that you got home to Max and Abby in the kitchen table working on homework, and every day that you were able to kiss Mike when he got home from work from the mall covered in fast food stains and all, none of it mattered. Not the debt, not the hardships, and not the struggles.

This little slice of life you’d built with Mike and Abby were paradise. Even if Mike’s aunt threatened custody every once in a while, even if Mike sometimes came home flushed and upset with a new termination notice in hand from his current job, and even if Abby sometimes preferred to talk to her imaginary friends than join you and Mike for dinner. Despite it all, this little home the three of you shared was your personal heaven.

And when Mike came home one day and suggested the two of you marry after talking to Abby, your little paradise increased.

Your wedding wouldn’t be anything that would elicit chatter among your friends. At most, you two would just wear your nicest clothes in your closet and walk down to the court house with cheap rings from Amazon. At most, your honeymoon would be a day where Max took Abby to her house and you and Mike ordered some take out from that Italian place in the mall that was about as fancy as any other fast food place. At most, you’d probably have one weekend to celebrate being married before Mike went to work at the mall and you back to your shitty job.

But it didn’t matter.

You loved Mike and Abby enough to the point where all of that sounded like a luxury. It might not have been the fancy delusions child you had about your future, but it was home. Mike and Abby had always been your home and any moment spent with them was better than whatever money could buy.

So, smiling, you had accepted Mike’s proposal and enveloped him and Abby in a tight hug. Had laughed when you felt Mike’s grin against your cheek and heard Abby’s little giggle against your arms.

Your life might not have been much to someone else, but to you it was paradise. A treasure nothing could ever replace.

[funkidsfactory]

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[gildedlead]

I need more content of Luke Fox and Duke Thomas being close NOW!!

I need Duke completely floored when he learns that Luke Fox, his favorite MMA fighter since middle school, a guy who he carried a poster of in his suitcase even when bouncing about in the foster system, is not only a superhero but a superhero he WORKS with?? And he’s chill as fuck? And you expect me to believe that Luke heard that there was a brotha on the team taking on the day shift alone and didn’t immediately come to the Cave to meet him? Fuck you, black boy joy conquers all.

Bruce is lucky he has years of experience serving adoptions papers because if he’d been any slower, you KNOW Luke would have been there

[misscinnamonroll16]

More of the brozone headcanons

John Dory is almost constantly complaining about either his neck or his back (lick my-) hurting

Bruce and Clay pull a Sokka and tell either Poppy or Viva that they don't really remember what their dad looked like but they often picture him looking similar to JD

Clay constantly leaves his clothes lying about and it pisses John off. And for once, Clay is NOT doing it on purpose.

I don't remember if I've said this already but John Dory takes it upon himself to do all of his brother's laundry. Like fold and everything. Problem is he doesn't tell them he's doing this. He just takes their laundry, washes it, dries it, folds it and puts it back. They only notice that their laundry has gone missing after it's been returned. The lil bros get together and are like "is it you? If it's not you then who?" Process of elimination at that point.

When Floyd drops something, he flicks it off before picking it up.

John Dory experimented with makeup when he was on his own. Not enough to be great at it or wear it all the time but enough. He definitely winged his liner with a knife.

Clay snorts when he laughs really hard

The younger brothers definitely still snitch on each other to John Dory. Clay being a little shit to Floyd and Floyd goes "John! Clay's being mean to me!" "Clay stop being mean to Floyd or so help me God, I'll come down there!" They all know it's incredibly childish and they're way too grown up to be tattling but that's not going to stop them

When they were in school, the younger brothers didn't do the thing of accidentally calling the teacher mom, they accidentally called their teacher John/John Dory/JD. John doesn't know about it and they'd like to keep it that way.

John likes cooking to music. He'll most often play some of their old albums and some of the other music their grandma had. It's all fine and dandy until one of the others walk into the kitchen and either scared the crap out of him or make fun of his dancing

The boys favorite candies: JD likes spicy candy and sour candy. Bruce likes the fruit candies, mike and ikes, things like that. Clay likes salted caramels and sour candy. Floyd is definitely a lover of chocolate but especially dark chocolate. Branch doesn't really have a favorite candy but if he had to pick he'd say gummies or gumdrops.

Floyd's room is decorated with posters and pictures all over the walls, you can barely see the actual wall.

Floyd convinces John to get his ears pierced after seeing John Dory just stare longingly at his ears (it sounds way weirder than it is 😆)

Floyd has the highest pain tolerance, then John, Branch, Clay and Bruce

Floyd definitely would walk around in an adult onesie (like a stitch one)

Floyd's favorite holiday is Halloween (or whatever it's called in their universe)

For Halloween, usually Clay dressed up as a superhero, Floyd was a princess, branch got roped into whatever Floyd was doing. The other two were "too old" to trick or treat but when they did dress up, John often went for either a hero or first responder. Bruce always tried the gory costumes

John feels like he can't do the things that his brothers do (mainly Floyd) with decorating their bodies. He's still got that "I need to be perfect" mentality, making him think he can't get body mods. Floyd convinces him to do the thing.

Floyd knows how to pole dance. He says he learned it for the exercise.

Clay still believes in Santa in secret

[specialagentlokitty]

Eddie Diaz x reader - what’s important to you

Please... Ok imagine Eddie from 911 going on a couple dates with reader who also speaks Spanish and finally introducing her to Christopher... Like would Eddie be nervous, would reader be nervous, how would Christopher react? - @azeal-peal 💜

A/N: italics will be Spanish

He had met you through Hen, it was an accident, you just happened to on a night out at the same bar that the team were out on a night out at.

Hen introduced you to everybody, and when you friends went home with guys, you stayed with them just happily talking away.

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off you that night, you were beautiful, you were dressed up nicely, but not too revealing, just enough to turn heads as you walked through the door.

And he realised you didn’t need to be on a night out to turn heads, because when you walked through the doors of the station his eyes immediately found you.

“Hey, have you seen Hen?” You asked.

Eddie snapped out of his daze.

“I Uhm.. I think.. what?” He stuttered.

He wasn’t actually listening, and he gave you a sheepish grin which you returned with a small laugh and a bright smile.

“Hen, she said she was here but I can’t find her.”

“Oh I actually think she’s with Bobby right now, but you can wait up there if you want.”

He pointed to the upstairs part of the station, and you grinned brightly.

“Thanks Eddie!”

“You remember my name?” He asked confused.

He remembers telling you his name, but that was a few weeks ago, he wasn’t expecting you to remember.

You stopped on the stars and smirked.

“I remember the name of everybody, especially good looking firefighters.” You winked.

He smirked a little bit, following after you up the stairs, getting a bottle of water from the fridge and he brought it over to you.

You took it, offering him a sweet smile.

“You think I’m good looking?”

“You could be poster boy for the recruitment campaign.”

He laughed a little, looking away.

“Well, thanks. Nothing compared to you though, you could enter a world beauty contest and win by default.”

“Oh yeah?”

He hummed a little, directing his gaze back at you.

“Does that line win over all the ladies?”

“I don’t know, did it win over you?”

“Depends on what you’re thinking.”

“Well, I was thinking a nice dinner, maybe a movie?”

“Oh he makes his move, bold choice Mr firefighter, are you sure it’s the right one?”

He grinned a little at you.

“After work?”

“I’ll get Hen to give you my address, don’t be late hot shot.”

You got up, giving him another wink as you walked over to your friend who had just come up the stairs.

Eddie was right on time for you date, and it went amazing, so you asked him for a second date the following week.

Every week for two months you two would go on a date, just slightly getting to know one another.

Today was no different, you were walking around the pier with him, your hand in his as you walked over to a few of the stall games.

“I bet I could beat you.” He said.

“Oh you’re so on!”

Eddie smiled softly at you.

He learnt pretty quickly when you got really happy or excited about something you reverted to Spanish, and he had once heard you arguing with Hen in Spanish because he had to translate.

He paid for both your games, and you began throwing the balls at the targets, seeing who could knock down more cans.

He was winning at the start and he gave a cocky grin.

“You’re all talk.”

You scoffed a little.

“You wish, I was just biding my time.”

Tossing the final ball in your hand, you threw it, knocking over all but one of your cans.

Eddie stood there in pure shock, and he stared at you.

“Oh no, that’s cheating, come on!”

“I’m just that good Eddie Diaz, suck it up!”

You picked your prize, and he picked another, taking yours from it so he could carry it around for you.

You were grinning from ear to ear.

“You can keep that by the way.”

“What? But you won it.”

You smiled a little at him.

“Give it to your son, I remember you saying he was really into superheroes right now, I thought maybe he’d like a huge iron man plushie.”

Eddie smiled down at you.

“You remember that?”

“Of course, I remember everything you say. I know he’s really important to you.”

“Not many people are interested in seeing a guy who has a kid.”

You paused and so did he, turning around to look at you.

Walking over, you reached up, placing your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his cheek.

“Eddie it doesn’t bother me you have a son, I’m dating you for you, if you have a son that’s nothing to do with me. He’s your son, he’ll always come first, and I expect you to always put him before me. I’d be pretty pissed if you didn’t.”

Eddie turned his head, kissing the palm of your hand, then he leant down, connecting his lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

You moved your hand to the back of his head to hold him there, leaning up into the kiss, and you finally pulled away.

“I’m in this for us Eddie, however long that may be, and nothing will scare me away.”

He smiled, brushing his nose against yours before he kissed you once more and fully pulled away.

“I want you to meet him.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s the most important person to me, and I really like you, I like what we’ve got going on, and I really want you to meet each other. Is that okay? Because if it isn’t you don’t have too.”

“Yeah, I’d love that. Just me when.”

He gave a nervous smile.

“How about today? You can give him this toy?”

“Really?”

“Is that okay?”

“Hell yeah, let’s go!”

You grabbed his arm and began dragging him back to the car.

Truth be told you were nervous about meeting his son, you knew how important Christopher was to Eddie, and you wanted to make a good impression.

But at the same time you didn’t want to impose on them either, you didn’t want Christopher to think you were taking his dad away or trying to change anything.

Eddie was nervous about introducing the pair of you, he really liked having you around, he wanted to have you around his apartment, cook for you, get you involved with much more instead of seeing you once a week.

As you guys reached his apartment you were nervously holding his hand while he unlocked the door.

“Buck?”

The man came padding around the corner and you offered a wave which made Buck grin.

“Oh I’m so getting out of here.”

He grabbed his jacket and jogged out of the apartment.

“Wait here.”

Eddie kissed your cheek, wondering over to the couch and he crouched down in front of his son, hugging him gently.

They spoke quietly and finally Eddie gestured for you to come over and you did.

You sat next to Christopher.

“Hey, I’m (Y/N). It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I got something for you.”

You held the plushie out, and the boy took it, laughing a little as he held it tightly in his arms.

“Do you like my dad?”

You smiled at Christopher brightly, nodding your head, looking over at Eddie who had walked over to the kitchen.

“Oh yeah, I do. But I know your dad loves you a lot. So I was hoping maybe we could be friends.”

“Who’s your favourite superhero?”

You hummed a little bit, leaning back on the couch.

“That’s hard, but I think it has to be Hawkeye. I think he’s really cool.”

“But he has no superpower.”

“That’s what makes him super cool, he’s got no powers but he still saves people, he kinda reminds of of your dad..” you whispered.

Christopher beamed brightly, looking at you and he leant back at as well.

“My dad has been really happy.”

“Yeah?”

Christopher nodded a little bit.

“Where do you work?”

You began to tell him everything, answering all of his questions and when Eddie turned around he wore a soft smile as he looked at the pair of you.

You two seemed to be getting along really well, and he couldn’t ask for anything more

[cassandrva]

the spiderverse movies, especially across the spiderverse, are perfect stories to analyze through a metafictional lens (for context: metafiction is when a story deliberately draws the audience's attention to its status as a story)

it's almost inevitable for a spider-man story set in a multiverse to build commentary on what it means to be a spider-man story. itsv certainly does it, but atsv doubles down on it tenfold.

throughout all of the film we see characters imposing a narrative on miles, telling him not only what to do but also how to present and even think about himself and his place in the world. they want him to distort his story, make it palatable, to conform to the beats and tropes everyone expects from him both as miles morales and as spider-man.

his guidance counselor wants him to be poster boy for the stereotypical american dream "poor child of immigrants pulls himself up by his bootstraps to become a great scientist" narrative

miguel insists on subjecting every single spider-person to the same traumatic tropes— sorry, "canon events" that (according to his algorithm) define the very nature of a spider-man story. he's like the comics authority of this spider-verse. any divergence miles attempts from the standardized narratives that are thrust upon him is heavily policed and disciplined

both the counselor and miguel are essentially saying the same thing: being who miles is is about sacrifice, and it's about suffering. to prevent that suffering or to acknowledge its absence means erasing his identity respectively as an afrolatino young man and as a superhero

and he is having none of it. this is not a spider-man narrative, this is his spider-man narrative. he's not going to reduce himself to fit into a nice cookie cutter generic marketable version of his own life

and in his literal main character moment he graduates from guy who is doomed by the narrative to Guy Who Dooms The Narrative. he's taken control of his own story. bet in the next movie he's gonna make the whole canon theory unravel. bet he's gonna break canon so hard it explodes.