#dadlander

[blindmagdalena]

what would homelander’s reaction to his wife being pregnant with twins?

"Holy cow! Talk about buy one, get one free. That's what you get with quality swimmers. Hear that, little guys? You tied at the big race! Congrats!"

"You know, it could be my egg that split into two."

"Uh, babe? Having a private conversation with the boys here. Thanks."

He's got a huge grin the whole time. Good luck being so outnumbered by him and his mini's.

[sehtoast]

Dadlanders toddler with you/reader asking as they get bathed:

"Daddy/Mommy, am I part shark?"

You/reader is super confused yet amused as you ask them why they ask, and they reply:

"Because daddy looks like a shark when he smiles."

You chuckle at how cute they are, then laugh louder when you hear something crash to the floor, knowing it's hubby Homelander that fumbled with something when he was ease dropping in the next room.

You're welcome- 👻

STOOOOOOOOOP 😭😭😭😭😭 THIS MADE ME GIGGLE AND KICK MY FEET ADLKJGH

him just walking in and, "i sure am a shark! what, you think they made my suit blue for no reason? i gotta look the part!"

and then every shark related object becomes "just like daddy." 😭😭😭

imagine getting him father's day cards and the little one draws a bunch of sharks on it.

dadlander signing his name by drawing a shark of his own on birthday cards for the kiddo. sharks just becoming a theme and a little symbol of love and family

i'm going to BURST THERE'S JUST SO MUCH CUTE OPPORTUNITY HERE

[annetess]

Just him and his most beloved person in the whole world

[gusdeservedbetter]

Homelander & Ryan

Before episode 5, I didn't buy that revisiting his childhood trauma(s) would do anything for Homelander, and I thought the point would be to show that nothing will change BUT!! Color me surprised! and pleasantly so, bc imo Homelander has reached such a stage of not giving a fuck it's INSANE, like in the scenes when he's not with Ryan, I see him as this husk, completely empty, half heartedly talking about plans with the Seven & co, he doesn't care anymore it's terrifying, he's just going through the motions expected of him in those scenes.

With Ryan however, he's just hanging out, talking, yk, encouraging his son to indirectly slap some sense into creepy movie directors , which btw, Ironic and excellent way to show both: Ryan's awareness of the concept of a women's consent, AND Homelander's hypocrisy, which will all come to head when Ryan learns of the brutal way he was conceived. Funnily enough, this is what I imagined the dynamic of Ryan and Homelander to be before the first episodes of this season: just them hanging out, laughing at those "lesser than them". And I prefer it like this, a slow build towards it, not just going from Ryan's nervous energy facing his dad to "hahaha that was so fun *smugly sips milkshake*". THIS is better, I actually buy that these two silly idiots spent 6 months together or so, bc even the argument from ep3 isn't made into this big dramatic thing, yes it pushes Homelander into action and it upset both of them but it's also resolved in a simple way, just them talking, walking yk. I honestly think the Black Amex and Jaguar keys were sort of an apology from Homelander? Because ofc he'll never come out straight to say it lmao

and the "You're the only one whose opinion I care about"?? "For all I'm concerned you're the only one on this planet" ?? HOOOO BOY, we say it's over for Homelander every other episode. But I honestly think this is it, and it's so bad I can't even choose an option, will it be worse if Ryan turns on him, or dies?

[pacentia]

Pairing: female human!reader x Homelander

Setting: somewhere post season 3

Synopsis: just a lil drabble about providing John the home and the family that he so desperately craved.

Tags: nsfw cause it's Homelander, sweetness, intimacy, love, Homelander has his kids, Homelander relaxes for once

Note: my boyfriend made me watch The Boys. Little did he know I was going to develop a pathological crush on a broken homicidal maniac ❤️

“Daddy, look!”

It was a simple word that John was never going to take for granted. A word that his super-hearing could pick out of a thousand voices from miles away. If any -fucking- one would ever dare lay a hand on his beautiful and pure daughter - John swore he was going to -

“John, get out of your head.” You smiled at your lover, America’s most powerful superhero, the man that you called your husband. He lounged on the patio of your spacious mansion in Long Island, American flag waving in the wind, overlooking the big green gated garden in which your baby girl Jane was playing and running around. At last, he was finally enjoying a day off from all of those idiot cocksuckers at Vought, his words.

John’s stoic face snapped into a broad smile, accompanied by a million micro-expressions when you joined from the kitchen, bringing freshly baked chocolate cookies into the scene. Honest to God, he had everything that his pained heart missed in front of him: a perfect wife, his son Ryan, and his baby Jane. The young girl’s eyes widened, and she ran like a speedster to the source of the smell.

“When your daughter asks you to look, you better look.” You grinned, placing a soft kiss on his unruly blond locks, taking a bite from one of your cookies. John grinned to himself, and reached out his strong arms to his daughter, inviting the girl in his arms. She didn’t hesitate to jump right in his lap. “Here, a flower for daddy.” Jane giggled, placing a pink flower in his blonde hair.

The combination of a pink flower decorating his hair, and the violent background that he possessed was quite a hilarious contrast. The Supe didn’t give two fucks about that, he’d let his daughter put a whole fucking flower crown on his head. Anything she wanted was law. Your children were incredibly spoiled, because John wanted everything for them that he’d never got to experience. He had a rocky start with Ryan, but John had learned patience in time, much against his own nature.

You weren’t related to Ryan in any way, but you knew what had happened 5 years ago when he first released his heat gaze. He went through traumatic stuff, and you were always there to comfort him. His dad taught him how to harness his growing powers over the years, but he was too shy to get introduced to the Seven and Vought and all that shit. Vought was a huge fan in pushing Ryan to follow in Homelander’s footsteps, to become the next commander of the Seven. However, John quickly realized that his son expressed little interest, so he zapped that idea down (much to his own pain).

To the outside world, Homelander was still the same heroic figure. To Vought, he was the same nightmare to deal with.

But you loved him.

All of him. All of his insecurities, his simultaneous God complex, his devious desires and his bloodlust. He was convinced that his kind was the master race, but you, a mere human, held a special place in his heart. You were his darling girl that was able to give him a home, and accepted him for the fucked up man that he was. He had already incinerated and executed people for you. It’s a way he showed his devotion to you.

And he’d do anything to keep that little princess in his arms safe, no matter the cost. Same with Ryan, and with you.

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 1

A Homelander X F!Reader fanfic

A/N: I am writing this alongside another fic so sorry for the publishing schedule altho I got 2 chapters done, this is my dadlander fic and hyperfixation explorations

Sypnosis: Homelander never wanted to remember you again, but after welcoming Ryan into his life, he thought of you, and the lie that tore you two apart, but now... thinking back, thinking of your betrayal-- was he perhaps wrong about who the father of your unborn child was? Did you perhaps told the truth all those years ago? That it was his.

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, OC characthers, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter One

Blue

It had been by pure chance, whether it had been a combination of forced reminiscing and exhaustion that Homelander had thought of you after all these years; These meetings had been proven wasteful of his time, nothing the PR and Digital Marketing departments could come up that was good enough, and somehow he had gone from irritated to just defeated.

He sulked in his chair listening to their meandering voices brainstorming potential ideas as to how Ryan’s new origin story had to be developed and handled, whether it was too squeaky clean or absurd, how much could they risk offending the child, how much of his mother should be kept from the public (not that they were very aware of the fine details, as Homelander had been more than just vague about it, he had simply no intent to divulge about his son’s conception, upbringing or his mother’s fate) Homelander would never allowed the public to look with pity or fear at his son, he would not allow them to brand him as a murdered over an accident– he could still hear his son weeping and shaking in his sleep, waking up in a fright, seeing invisible blood in his hands.

Homelander had grown overprotective of the boy, he was made indestructible but his mind and heart were glass, still pure and uncorrupted by the awful world they inhabited, he would never allow anything else to taint it and bring him nightmares– so this had to be perfect.  

To make it worse, the kid was growing impatient and depressed, forced to stay in the tower until this story was concocted, he couldn’t attend school or interact with other children until he was trained and learned his lines, making his father increasingly more paranoid that his son was slowly growing resentful. 

“Mister Homelander… what if we base Ryan’s mom off one of your other ex-girlfriends?” A rather tired intern had muttered– preferably somebody dead…”

The room shot daggers at the nameless intern but Homelander simply sat in silence and gave it a thought, he had plenty of unsuited mates disposed and handled in the past, the amount of NDA issued made for a small but noticeable stack alone, he looked at the table and the box of cannolis that the group had been munching on, looking at the small printed italian flag on the box’s side.

That he thought of you for the first time in years.

You had been his new personal chef, your interactions minimal as you brought him his meals, he hadn’t known at first how heartbroken you’d look as he returned half touched dishes over and over, it had become a competition against yourself to make him eat, every leftover morself a cause of grief, as if your honor and ego had been beaten mercilessly with every dirty plate.

One evening, Homelander sat on his couch watching a documentary by Orson Wells, he hadn’t noticed you there as you brought him dinner, the way you looked at him with spite waiting to throw the most likely untouched plate of pasta back at his face, it would get you fired and possibly killed but you couldn’t take it anymore. You were a chef, a professional, you had turned down a dream job and left the restaurant you loved for the honor of being Homelander’s personal chef, the job that would open you a thousand doors but it was without reward now it felt like your biggest mistake, no matter what you made he fucking hate it but offered no feedback, you had no clue what he wanted, what he disliked and liked, what he craved, or how he liked his meals– he simply left your food untouched.

Diverting his gaze from the film, he noted your food and that you were still there with a block of pecorino and a grater in your hands.

He stood up with a groan, lifting the silver cover to reveal boring pasta and bolognese sauce, it wasn’t styled exceptionally, it didn’t even look too appetizing, it was just some fresh linguine covered in meat sauce, he stared at you as if this was some sort of joke but your dead eyed expression was off-putting.

“Would you like some fresh cheese, sir?” Your voice might as well have been automated.

Frankly he didn’t want any cheese but pasta had to be eaten with cheese, he gestured for you to grate watching an off-white pile form on top of his pasta with no intention of stopping.

“That’s enough” he said sharply, he took the plate looking at the mound and then back at you who was still in the room, he wrapped his fork with the pasta doing his best not to stain his suit.

You just wanted to save the time with coming back to pick up the insults, but there he took the first bite of this homely dish heis eyes opened up, there hadn’t been anything special, you simply had taken some left over pasta and brought a jar of your grandma’s sauce, a recipe she had guarded fiercely ever since she stole it from some italian friend’s mom many many years ago, you adored this recipe, it had been the reason why you fell in love with food, you loved visiting your grandmother when it was time to jar the sauce, and when she served you a humbled serving of bolognese– he gave it a second bite letting the tangy and fresh sauce wash over him.

And that’s when he finally noticed you for real, how closely you watched him eat, smiling as he took another mouthful and mixed more of the fresh pecorino, there had been something warm about this meal, it lack pretense, it was something that no high end 5-star restaurant would serve but it tasted… warm.

From that point on, he looked forward to his meals, wanting to see what the fuck had you done to make food taste worthy of his body, noting you would personally deliver the meals after he failed to clean the plate on the previous one, he hadn’t even known your name but he noticed you.

You were cute, your voice had gained some warmth since that awkward first impression, he could tell it was these homemade meals that tasted the best, as if you put everything you had to make them taste delicious, there were no frills with these, just good homemade fair, made with love, he had began asking for things he had been curious but never served as if they were above his status like meatloaf, carbonara, shepherd's pie, etcetera. These were the kinds of meals the families he’d seen growing up behind the screen would eat, he had been the first to strike a conversation.

You listened, you talked, and before he knew it, he had found himself asking for your company at the dinner table. You were hesitant at first but he was handsome and charming, but above all he was the Homelander! While apprehensive you still took to his offer just to smugly enjoy seeing him enjoy your food, proud that you had triumph in this battle where so many had been defeated, you’d cracked the code and god it felt good.

It became part of your weekly schedule, having dinner at his penthouse and chatting about anything, he loved talking and eventually it became apparent that it wasn’t because he was in loved with his voice but simply… he hadn’t got anybody who enjoyed listening to him, you were attentive, you responded well and even if you weren’t sure about something you weren’t going to let him feel as if you weren’t approachable anymore, you were more than happy to hear him explain to you a topic because his eyes gleam like those of a small kid telling you about something new they learned at school– in truth you loved how happy he became when he could rambled about things, as if nobody in the world had ever given five seconds of their time to let him talk about strange events from history and his theories, tonite he wanted to talk about the Dyatlov Pass incident and star formations that he was sad that he couldn’t see from New York, wishing you could see how the sky looked like from his cabin.

You’d spend more and more time in his home as the conversations grew more frequent, as he wanted to hear more about your interests and hobbies.

Thinking of how cute you looked while baking, how cute your laugh was, of the way you always held him after long days, that first real date, that first time you held hands, the first shy kiss after dinner.

As he took a long whiff to catch some of that gentle sweetness, he thought of the last day you were together.

That sound.

The thing that’s the size of a bean.

The anger, his heart shattered, all the colors of the world had dissipated when he saw that tumor growing in your stomach, he wanted to hurt you as much as you did, to shut you up as you threw excuses, begging him to believe you.

But that thing wasn’t his.

It couldn’t be his.

You said it was his, that the baby you didn’t even know was inside you was his, but he couldn’t be the father.

His eyes widened, he stood up and left the room, his mind focused on your name. They had tried getting his attention but could only give up as nobody would dare to chase after him, Homelander found himself entering the analytics offices towards the first chump he spotted.

“Can you find me information on a former employee?” He said firmly, the junior staff jumped at his seat nodding frantically– their name was Y/N L/N.” he said quietly.

The staffer didn’t have to do much work, you were easy to find, your name attached to Brooklyn’s most loved pizzeria for the last couple years, your face on their socials, and even a video from some food channel following what it was like working in Brooklyn’s hottest pizzeria had you in it, your shop had been listed as the best two years in a row, Homelander couldn’t bare looking at your face, but he asked for an address.

That night after spending time with Ryan who seemed to be sulking more and more, as he watched him eat his dinner, he thought of you, the kid was meandering whatever was on his plate didn’t feel appetizing, his meal was no different from what it was served in a high-end restaurant and the kid had no desire to eat it, he wanted Ryan to have the finest things when all he wanted was to have his mom’s tacos– his son opted to head for bed early skipping dinner all together, it was almost 10 pm, a heavy feeling had been boiling in his stomach since that meeting.

Taking flight all the way to some red brick Brooklyn projects, hovering about until he encountered you.

Time had been kind to you but you looked tired, the glow in your skin now dulled, your appearance unkempt, your clothes worn and old, your shoes the nicest thing you worn but they still creased and dirty, you looked beyond exhausted, your eyes half closed and your arms dangling on your sides as you carried a couple grocery bags, he looked around at the constructions and rubbish, at the hooligans and wannabe gangbangers, and the rancid smell. Hundred buildings all the same, he wanted to get closer as he watched you walk alone in those sticky white painted brick walls, you stopped suddenly by one of the brown doors, there were only four other doors in that floor, waiting patiently, an old lady opens the door, you two exchanging pleasantries as you handed the lady two of your grocery bags, a small dog came to say hello and then… there she was.

She was small for her age, she didn’t jump with excitement or say much to you, just a slight bow to the old lady and she walked in front of you as you said goodbye, only stopping two doors down.

Your apartment was small, two small bedrooms, small kitchen and barely sparsely decorated, but it was clean and tidy, your daughter dropped her school bag, and headed for the bedroom while you moved to the kitchen, never really talking to each other, he found himself flying closer just to get a perfect vision of that child.

She was a mini-you, taken so much from you, whoever the father was it didn’t seem to have mattered in the end for the kid got nothing from him, she changed to her pajamas as you sat on the couch after throwing away your uniform to the floor.

You two talked briefly, you didn’t read her any stories before bed or kissed her good night, you simply stared at each other and talked while you stretched your feet.

The little girl entered her room, a tidy space, books piled up on the floor in sharp stacks against the wall, a desk containing some electronics and a couple stuffed animals.

She was a cute thing, just like you had been once, her hair short and her straight bangs covering most of her face, too long for it too be safe, she had your complexion and jet black hair, she sat on her desk turning the desk lamp and picked her Kindle up, looking at her clock then back at her Kindle, she sat there for a couple minutes digesting some pages until it was almost midnight, before heading to the living room– you’d passed out on the couch, she took your phone and put it to charge fidgeting with something before leaving it, turning the TV off, and finally turning around to slip a quilt on top of her mother.

Homelander almost felt sorry for the kid, after all you had done to him only to neglect your child, you were just as much of a scumbag as he had imagined, he had had enough wanting to fly away until he saw the little girl staring back at him.

The lights were off on the home, and it was dark with the streets below shaded piss yellow, he looked around wondering if there was something nearby that caught your daughter’s attention but she was staring straight at Homelander, she forced the window open peeking her small frame slightly out the window, in the dark starless night while strangers made a ruckus a couple streets from here, a bright twinkling of pale blue illuminated your home.

He got closer, something caught in his throat as he came only a meter away from your daughter.

She looked so much like you but her eyes even as they lost their unnatural light were so blue, as if the entire ocean lived in her eyes.

The curtains slid shut, his chin flicked in surprise as he caught the small figure plainly ignoring him, he was loved by all, especially children! Even those whose favorites were Noir, A-Train or Maeve loved him! Yet this little girl had just shrugged him off and ignored him, simply returning to her bedroom to shut the second set of blinds and jump straight to bed.

Homelander was left dumbfounded, not once had he seen such disinterest and callousness from a member of his safest demographic, so he stood in mid-air pondering about killing both of you briefly, just as the heat from his cheeks cooled down, he stared at the now sleeping brat, wondering about that inhuman blue light that glossed her big round eyes.

[sillywillybillywilly]

black noir is the only one homelander will ever leave Ryan with and that’s canon cause I say so🩷

[vindickyoutive]

[mommy-mortis]

So recently I've been in my mind a lot lately and I was thinking "what kills fandoms" you have old fandoms like Star Trek, Star wars and Lord of the rings that feel everlasting but what new fandoms can you predict lasting as long as those? almost none.

Recently I posted some stuff on Reddit (I know how silly of me) just some silly little quips about Homelander and the boys that were just nonsensical and funny in my opinion.

Almost immediately I got push back

describing how unrealistic that these thoughts were and blah blah blah, the things that I said were wholesome (you know I can get really filthy on here) and it got me wondering is this what kills fandom not trolls and people who are unimaginative but is it fear, fear to be the other, fear to be called out it must be.

I didn't remove my post nor did I rise to the heckles I've lived on Tumblr for most of my media consuming life so it was like talking to children, I've lived on Tumblr where you get death threats and get doxed so nothing they could say could hurt me in anyway that matters, but it did make me worry for the future of fandom because not everyone is me, not everyone is us.

On Tumblr if someone sent you a death threat it's just another Tuesday, you just block them and continue posting to whatever fandom you love, but I realized that that's not the norm for everyone else and if it's not then how is fandom going to survive.

It felt like I was supposed to repent and then take down my post but if everyone's doing that there will be no material, how do they expect the ecosystem to thrive, it gets me down in the dumps, I want the fandom the I'm in right now to survive, I want it to thrive I want the ecosystem to stay robust but how can it thrive when a simple Dadlander au post can unravel it so easily?

[themeraldee]

~Spooky season headcanon~

With the release of the Silent Hill 2 remake, Reader and Ryan have been for days now trying to beat the game with the occasional scream of fright here and there.

Homelander doesn't get the appeal of video games much less ones that frighten you. Also hearing the screams of Ryan and Y/n throughout the day and across the tower has been both annoying and frightening; with Homelander having rushed to his penthouse multiple times looking for danger only to see both Ryan and Y/n looking owlishly at him.

He doesn't need these panic attacks when he is conducting important business matters lol.

Essentially not in the middle of the night when he is trying to sleep. Definitely lasered the ceiling once when woken up at 3 am from these two.

Ya, that game is definitely disappearing after three days lol.

I love when he's in dad mode 😭😭

He didn't get to worry about newborn or toddler Ryan so now he's finally getting a taste of what that would be like with these panic attacks. Poor guy is aging years in days. And while they're having the time of their life he's in constant state of anxiety because it's not like he can brush off every scream because what if it's real that one time!!

Defeated & exhausted dadlander my beloved.

The way they'd both be tailing him just begging to get the game back. And because he can't say no he gives it back under the condition that they only play when he's home to watch over them.

And no more playing until 3am! It's a school night for god sakes! (Does Ryan go to school???)

Nope, it doesn't matter that that's how it's meant to be played. Dad needs his beauty sleep.

[fuckingpajamas]

Homesick update! We have officially settled on rewriting chapter 26 and beyond. After a good hiatus and some much needed self-doubt ass-kicking, Irish and I have settled to use the original Homesick writings as a base for a newer, cleaner version. We're also live roleplaying it atm, which means faster chapters! Homesick (the original) was written well over a year ago and since then we've gotten much better at managing a nice flow that reads more as a fic and less as a roleplay. Instead of attempting to frankenstien and save whatever we have, starting fresh seemed like the best way to revisit an old friend while also ensuring the story gets a facelift. I'll be posting more updates on this blog and hope to have chap 25 out soon! Thanks again for everyone's support <3 Read Homesick here ---also- would y'all be interested in before vs after scene rewrites? I'd love to know!

[blindmagdalena]

S/o teaching Ryan cuss words, not knowing Homelander is LITERALLY hearing everything , in a meeting?

Tapping his index finger on the armrest of his chair, Homelander's patience thins the longer this meeting drags on.

He's never left you alone with Ryan before, and while he's not concerned per se, he is maybe a touch... irritated. Not for anything either of you did, but for the hyperawareness of what he knows he's missing out on. Laughter, bonding, that sweet sense of familial comfort.

It's only just begun to take shape between the three of you, and it needles him to not be a part of it. What if the two of you watch a movie he hasn't seen, and it's all the two of you want to talk about over dinner?

Attention drifting, he unconsciously begins tuning towards the sound of Ryan's voice. The two of your aren't far, with his suite just several floors above the conference room. He should be able to hear what the two of you are— "You're fucked!" Ryan declares proudly. Homelander visibly jerks, startling the woman sitting to his left, though no one makes mention of it.

"Yes! 'You're fucked' turns 'fuck' into an adjective. Good job!" You praise. He can hear the broad smile in your voice. "Now, can you give me an example of 'fuck' as a noun?"

There's a pause before Ryan tentatively answers, "Like fuck I'm going to bed?"

The distinct clap of a high-five rings in his ears.

"Yes! That's right!" You say, followed by the both of you falling into laughter.

Homelander's incredulous look shifts slowly into a smile that's equal parts disbelief and delight.

You're fucking kidding me.

A usage that makes 'fuck' an adverb, by the way. He's looking forward to surprising you by sharing that little tidbit when he gets home.

[alsofortheb0ys]

I love angst and Homelander so I really wanted to write a series on it! I'm very sorry my writing is not very good cause English is hard and I'm not really used to writing long fics but I want to start so I'm sorry if it cuts off weirds. Also I didn't proofread so lol :) ENJOY!

Homelander never felt right. Like something was missing.

Well, there was so many things missing. Parents, family, childhood, normalcy, companionship, love.

Nothing could fill the feeling of gnawing emptiness.

There were moments that made him forget. But they were just that: calm for a moment.

Sex filled the void but once a quick high faded the emptiness returned. Deep down he knew that sex didn't mean love. That people slept with either cause they were too scared to say no or they did it to manipulate him.

Fame gave him a sense of worth but knew that his fans only loved his superficial self. They wouldn't love him if they knew how he truly was. Homelander wasn't a complete idiot, he knew he had done things that most would consider morally wrong.

Their cheers drowned out the feelings of painful lonely but once again it was short lived.

Scrolling through social media and seeing the outstanding amounts of praising comments made his happiness sky rocket but once he saw the single hate comments made it crash straight to the ground.

You did nothing wrong be wanted to be treated with love.

The human part of himself speaks. The other part, the one in the mirror calls him a child. Calls him needy.

You're weak. A pathetic excuse.

It whispers.

It's love that makes him weak.

He promised himself to get rid of the burdensome dreams of belonging but most nights he laid awake in his cold bed in his characterless room that felt more like a prison that his home. There was no decorations to his taste. Just an overwhelming coldness.

He layed tears streaming down his face. The other him looks down in disgust from the mirror above his bed that was too large for just him.

Again with the crying. It gets you NOWHERE!

Homelander wishes he were like the man in the mirror, so numb to the pain. No tears ever touched his face. No emptiness that rips through his heart. No loneliness overtook him.

No part to feel human.

Homelander remembers when in a moment of weakness, he brought up to the Madelyn how he felt alone. She tried easing his mind by telling him that he was a god. That he had the whole of his devoted followers, Vought and her surrounding him.

Gods weren't lonely.

She than precedes to give him the quickest handjob he's ever had.

Once Homelander's head cleared he was all but he wasn't assured. That their love was only so deep. Sex, manipulation, control.

To try his best to achieve that, Homelander shoved every crippling emotion as deep down as he could.

Till it came back just to overwhelm him. To combat those feelings his brain would just shut off, making him numb. So numb, he'd sometimes blank. His memories fuzzy.

He always made the worse decisions when it happened. It was when he killed Madelyn or when he made that girl jump off a roof after he found out Stormfront took her own left.

Homelander, for the most part liked feeling the numbness. Made him feel nothing and that meant no pain. No loneliness. No anger.

Absolutely nothing.

But part of him had fear of what he could do if he blanked. He had no one he really cared for after Madelyn and Stormfront died so he had no one to worry about hurting.

Well, all but one person.

Ryan, his precious son.

Once, Homelander was sitting with Ryan by his side building a new Lego Star Wars set. He was happy just talking with him and enjoying their father son time.

Homelander became so overwhelmed thinking how his life would have been if Soldier Boy had been in his life. Would he have love him that same as Homelander did for Ryan?

Homelander's chest tightened. His breathing labored.

His mind went dark and the next thing he remembers is standing in an alley covered in blood but no bodies to be found. Fearing he had hurt Ryan, he flew quickly to Vought tower.

He felt his eyes prick up with tears and did nothing to stop them.

You hurt him didn't you?

The other him spoke.

Homelander flew as fast as he ever did but it was like time stopped.

As he step into his apartment, Homelander's heart beat quickened even more.

No sign of blood and he didn't smell any. Only the blood on his now soaked uniform. He quickly used his x-ray vision to scan the large floorplan.

Homelander breathed a sign of relief, seeing Ryan asleep in his bed. His chest slowly falling up and down, no signs of injury on him.

Homelander was unsure how his son was put to bed but at the moment it was the least of his cares.

He entered in Ryan's room, crying even more now just knowing he's safe. Homelander gentlely pulled the sleeping boy into his arms and into his lap.

Though Homelander was careful not to wake him, Ryan awoke to the sudden movement and the sound of his father sobbing.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, buddy. Dad loves you, you know that?"

Homelander let out a weak sob as his touched his son's cheek, double checking he didn't hurt him.

Though Ryan was confused, he saw the fear in his father's eyes and said nothing, only pulling him into a hug.

"I do. And I love you, dad."

With that Homelander began to sob even farther and soon crying himself to sleep with Ryan still in his arms.

The night Homelander fell asleep to a feeling that felt so unfamiliar. That time he let himself feel loved.

He knew it the feeling would fade in the morning but for now he let Ryan's steady breathing calm his mind.

[mooselybased]

So I wanted to draw a lil' something in celebration of The Adventure Zone hitting ten years old this year! Which turned into me drawing a pretty big something featuring (almost) every player character from (almost) every campaign from these past ten years.

So here's to Adventure Zone Balance, Amnesty, Commitment, Dust, Graduation, Hootenanny, Ethersea, Dadlands, Steeplechase, Versus Dracula, and everything that's still to come!

[plasticfangtastic]

american royalty. ch. 2

A Homelander x F!reader fanfic.

a/n: will post ch. 3 this week but sadly my other fic will be posted next week, enjoy this slow burn dadlander fic, and thx u to all the readers. prev. chapter:

Sypnosis: Homelander never wanted to remember you, but after welcoming Ryan into his life, he thought of you & the lie that tore you two apart. Now... thinking back, thinking of your betrayal-- was he perhaps wrong about who the father of your unborn child was? Did you perhaps told the truth all those years ago?

Tags: mild gore, angst, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, OC characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Two

Red

It had been a very long day, business was booming nowadays and since that influencer had made a couple videos on your pizzeria, you had been more than just busy, you began to run out of ingredients.

 In the last four years, the restaurant had grown, it had been there since 2002 ran by your boss’s father and his brother, who had ran their own pizza shop since the 80’s but as the economy and other events hit, they had decided to relocate and re-brand, now managed by their son– a man you owed so much, had his heart not been filled with kindness you would most likely be in the streets. So you made sure his restaurant was the best, you had accolades, you’ve worked in some of the best restaurants, you were once a very prominent fast rising figure of the New York culinary scene– until Homelander came along.

Your talent revamped the restaurant and now your food was once again on the spotlight, for the first time since you left Vought, you were happy with yourself, even if it was pizza. Cooking made you happy, and this job needed you, you didn’t live in fear of sleeping in your car anymore, you didn’t need to worry that your daughter would sleep on somebody’s couch again, you were able to quit your third job and go casual on your second thanks to this place, right now you didn’t live in the best of places but you were saving up and in a couple months you’d have enough money saved up to move, and send your daughter to a better school, somewhere were her talents wouldn’t be wasted.

So here you were ten minutes before closing, another extra couple hours of overtime for your dream two bedroom apartment, where it would be safe for her, where you could finally feel like your life had moved on from him, that the door opened up and your cashier squealed.

It was a quaint looking restaurant, the wood seating was new and the wall decor had been changed trying to look less cluttered, with Art Deco lighting fixtures as the stand out feature. The place had been remodeled recently it seems, the kitchen and its big brick oven looked clean but ancient to Homelander, he stared at the menu board and metal boxes of accouterments by the counters, taking in that this was in fact a pizza place, that you of all people did in fact work at a pizza place. You who could whip up amazing fare, now made greasy cheap slices, but he had seen people come in and leave endlessly these past few days, people taking selfies, and recording themselves with your food, nothing he understood.

He looked back at the teenager on the counter offering his signature smile as she blubbered her script, then as you took a step closer knowing you couldn’t hide in this open kitchen you finally looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

Your throat collapsed and your whole body became prickly and tight, your heart was beating so fast you thought you might be having a heart attack, you looked at the clock cursing that it wasn’t over, you were almost done packing the kitchen and readying for tomorrow, having a customer at this hour was awful but having him here was about to take you to an early grave.

“What’s your best seller?” Homelander muttered looking straight at you with an aloof stare, then back at the cashier– is pizza night at my house, sorry for coming so late hope that’s not a problem?” he said exceedingly politely.

The teenager blushed and looked back at you as if asking you to pinch her.

“That would be our pepperoni queen– is two types of cheese, extra pepperoni, with our signature house made marinara, with a dash of vodka sauce in our sourdough thin crust… chili oil is optional” You had managed to say trying to ignore those piercing blue eyes, you moved back to your place staring at the few remaining trays of dough balls left– our second best seller is our chicken florentine pie.”

Homelander admittedly detested pizza, it was greasy, gooey and heavy, it was fattening and gross, but there was a familiar aroma in the room, something that was making his mouth water lightly. Looking back at the girl, he ordered both in their smallest size offered, he sat by one of the wooden booths for the ten minutes he was told to wait, and not once did he made a comment, maybe that’s why your heart stung so much, why it felt as if you were about to collapse– that after seven years, he had completely forgotten about you, while only now did you began to feel as if you could heal from all the suffering he’d cause you, how insignificant had you been all along, how you love never registered.

You both had talked of moving in together and buying a home, he wanted to buy you a restaurant, and you wanted to give him your life, you had never loved somebody as much as he made you love him, and now you were just some bum wearing a graphic t-shirt making him dinner.

You packed his food, your boss Kaleem had given him extras on the house, practically begging for Homelander to give them a photo for their socials and you simply stare as he did his superhero thing, you took one of the delivery bags knowing he would lose the food if he flew with them in hand.

After the photoshoot, Kaleem and your cashier had run to the back to show the picture to the only other staffer left at this hour.

You both looked at each other as he took the bag off your hands, you wanted to cry, your eyes welling up but you looked down afraid of him, no doubt he could hear your heartbeat tickling his ear.

“It's been a while hasn’t it?” 

You could’ve collapsed into tears right then and there, it was worse to be remembered.

Growing angry at the sound of his soft voice, and that concerned expression in his face.

“Yes…”

“How you been? Didn’t think I'd ever see you again.”

“Should’ve killed me back then… got fucking close to it tho.” You dropped all pleasantries, hearing him talk and not hearing the word sorry 5 seconds in, had infuriated you. His stupid face, those stupid eyes, and that clown suit was too much for you, maybe it was the poor diet and lack of sleep but right now you wanted to ban him from Lucci’s– hope you enjoy the food.”

You pushed the bag jumping from the kitchen to the front as you headed for the door, holding it open for him.

“I’m doing alright. Now leave!” 

“You don’t even want to know why I'm here?” he was taken aback by your brashness, you had always been sweet to him, tender, barely ever angry before, so why now?

“You got a little kid now, I gather like any other kid, he likes pizza… and good for him because mine is the best!”

“Not really… I actually wanted to see you. I… I just wanted to ask you something–

“Mother!!”

Your daughter emerged from the depths of the kitchen, she carried a kindle in one hand and a giftcard in the other.

“Is it okay if I use my present now? They got some books on sale and you said not to buy more books until I finished… oh…”

In the light and in front of him, your daughter truly looked like your mirror image, copy and pasted into a miniature. Her hair just past her chin, and her bangs indeed covered her eyes, peeking behind those curtains were the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, there was no unnatural shine to them– just blue. Her lips so thin and her complexion just a tad paler than your own now that he gave it a proper look, she was so small-- too small for her age.

“Is okay honey, is your birthday you can get any books you want” Your tone shifted entirely lowering yourself to take her face and plant a quick peck on her cheek– now go back with uncle Kaleem and let mommy close shop, okay? We’ll go home in a minute.”

“Is it your birthday young lady? Congratulations.”

Homelander threw his best smile, giving the kid a cautious pet, catching the rage in your eyes as his gloved fingers touched your daughter.

“Thanks. Is not a milestone birthday so it is not worthy of congratulations… seems inane to celebrate it” she looked at her mother with a jaded expression– " I'll go get my bag, have a good night, sir.”

Homelander pressed his lip as the most deadpan voice came out of this little girl. Her oversized black sweater and the black tights made her look oddly unhappy, but the kid just stared at him with boredom, no surprise or interest when she stood next to America's favorite son.

He wondered if that was an adult or a seven year old for a second.

He worried if the kid had told his mother about that other night, but looking back at you he went with 'maybe'.

“What’s your name?” he asked, still forcing a smile– "my… you seem like a smart girl getting books for your birthday.”

“Helena.”

The kid couldn’t muster the energy to give him anything but her dead ass voice, she began to walk away not caring for manners, nor Homelander.

“She’s… cute.” he said watching that tiny figure walk away and surviving after her second nsult– great pronunciation for her age, does she even know what she’s saying?”

“Helena is not like other kids.”

“How so?” 

You looked at him more tired than anything, rubbing your temples as you made yourself waste spit to talk to him.

“She’s a Supe… by the time she was two she could speak in full sentences, by three she could read at a first and second grade level, and by five she was teaching herself calculus and piano… she’s a genius; I thought she was a normal genius until… her other powers manifested– none of this matters! Just go!” You shook your head in frustration.

“You gave her V?” He said while staring at Helena.

“... I didn’t know what V was until the news broke out, I thought Helena was chosen by God! That the world blessed her with those powers, but when that story came out I’ve been wanting to ask you– did you give her V? but… if you didn’t… who… are you lying to me, John?”

Homelander looked past the concrete walls looking back at that little girl, he didn’t know what to say or do, before you could utter another word he left.

Ryan nose picked the meal quickly, glad that it was friday and his dad would let him stay up ‘til late, Homelander just dropped the meal on their new table and the kid was quick on his feet, the food was still warm, only now did Homelander noticed the extras, couple of small containers holding chili oil and freshly made ranch, garlic knots and a lemon meringue pie, it was too much but Ryan hadn’t hesitated to dig in, before Homelander could ask him to wash his hands he had ripped a slice of pepperoni.

“This is so good!” He said so cheerfully– gosh I was starving, dad.”

“I sure hope so, bud… let’s leave the pie for tomorrow…” he looked grossed out, Ryan sat opening up the garlic knot’s containers– not gonna eat?”

Homelander sat down to join him, the thought of touching all those greasy surfaces was making his stomach hurl, but he relented, taking a slice. 

He was young again, and you were there coming back with some drinks as he ate your chicken florentine, this was the same recipe, the chicken was so juicy and the cheese wasn’t greasy. Ryan was shocked to see his father sound so happy as he took another bite.

It was the first time they both ate together where they felt completely comfortable with each other, maybe it was seeing Ryan not pick at his food that made Homelander able to just talk, Ryan told him all about his homework, and the videogame he was playing, he really liked Fifa at the moment even if he himself cared not for the sport.

Helena watched as her mother stood silently hovering above the sink, you hadn’t moved much for a couple of minutes, your daughter more annoyed than anything else regarding this display.

“How do you know Homelander?” she asked with a yawn.

“Huh?” you woke up from your trance– you should be in bed, darling.”

“You too. So… How do you know the clown?”

“Honey, don't say that!”

“He walks around wearing a onesie all day… like a clown… like the rest of those super clowns”

Your daughter always spoke with a creepy maturity, her voice didn’t belong to a kid.

“... He used to be my boss… he was a really bad boss…”

“You used to work for Vought?” She softened her stand.

“Honey… I don’t really want to talk about this… it's late and we are going to the museum tomorrow so you should get some sleep, mommy is just tired… hope you had a good birthday.”

“You should rest too, mother.”

Your daughter's eyes glowed momentarily turning th blinkers off before she made her way to bed, you stared at her door, thinking if she could see you.

No mother should think their child was creepy, Helena was just difficult and abrasive, to be a small kid with her brain must be unbearable. You could recall the moment she asked you about V so vividly, she looked angry, but you had no honest answer to give her, you had to lie, god knows if you got the details right about how these people committed these crimes. Helena simply had no ability to relate to people, and without the funds you couldn’t help her meet her potential, not while you were both stuck living in public housing, not while scraping every penny.

Her few friends forced her to dumb down and even they found her uneasy, only the old people seemed to handle her best, she loved to listen, and her teachers always thought of her as  a delight, yet she knew no other Supe beside herself, those pageants were expensive, and networking meetings were hard to get in, talent agencies were costly– having a super-abled kid and trying to make them into a Supe was locked behind a massive paywall, all you could hope was that her genius would let her enter a university early on scholarships.

There was always Godolkin, but god knows if they would let her enter at a young age.

It would be easy if her father was involved, if John was there in her life, she would have the world but he didn’t want her, he had made that clear years ago.

So why did he lie about the V? 

It had been two weeks since you seen Homelander, but he saw you a lot, he'd come back and forth-- watching you and the child with ardent curiosity, seeing you made him reminisce, of those many nights and afternoons, of the way no matter how tired you were, you always made sure to look happy when he showed up, the way you looked so at peace while cooking, of the feel of your skin against his and the taste of your precious lips as you kissed him good morning. 

He followed you, on your only day off as you took Helena around the city, watching you share a slice of overprice cake while taking notes, and ate cheap chinese for lunch, you waited for two hours as Helena played chess and checkers with some oldies at a chess shop, some russian man gave her lessons-- some of these people dressed nicely perhaps pros. Some won over her and some lost but the games were quick, your daughter seemed happier when she loss than when winning.

Something about that didn’t sit well with Homelander.

Somehow he found himself in your apartment, cracking open the window to sneak in while you headed back home– the tiny apartment felt more like a closet than a habitable space, the ceilign was run down, and the appliances ancient but well kept, your bedroom was simple, cooking books and boxes sat on top of your dressers, a single’s bed with plush comforters and pillows stuck against the wall, with a wardrobe in front of it, and a cheap fan tucked in the corner. He left for your daughter’s room just a few feet away divided by the bathroom were most of the clutter and laundry lived, her bedroom was just as plain, but the books didn’t seem fit for a small child, her desk tidy and organized, he picked up a notebook from the pile, seeing math equations that hurt his eyes within seconds. All her stuff were nice and new, she had a decent computer on top of her bed, an old dresser, but there was an absence of toys– compared to Ryan’s bedroom that was filled with anything he wanted and decorated expertly. A clock adorned her walls but not much else, the few things that looked messy was a tiny plastic chess set, the kind with magnets on the bottom, and some DIY stem kits.

He took to the bathroom, it was old and falling apart, mold was growing in the corner much to Homelander’s disgust, trolley held dozens of beauty stuff and shampoos and detergents, a shelf on the wall held towels and toilet rolls. Homelander looked at a sparkly hairbrush, picking a couple strands of lost hair knowing by their lengths and color that they weren’t yours, and cursing himself for doing this as he place them on small plastic bag he had hid in his glove.

[sillywillybillywilly]

Homelanders the type of dad to go around with pictures of Ryan in his cape or something and hand them out like tickets

‘’Yeah yeah that’s funny…you want a picture of my son? You know you do. You do don’t you.’’ Then hands some stranger like five different pictures of Ryan at vought carnival