#Kat Hing Wai

[melgolbach]

“Get out.” [Sam Golbach x Reader]

“Cause my love, is mine all mine”

WARNINGS: obsessive!samuel , JEALOUSY!!samuel , fluffy!samuel 🥰🥰

There was yet another party Sam and Colby had thrown, and this time it was for them reaching 10 million subscribers on YouTube. You’ve known these boys ever since they’ve started filming back on vine, and now that they’ve came along way you couldn’t help but be proud of them and how they’ve achieved it all on their own.

This party was small, but still there was at least twenty people in the apartment you three owned. You were talking to Tara and Kat (Kat— who is still good friends with Sam even after what happened), when all of a sudden a random stranger you’ve never met came up to you. You were confused as to who he was, but Jake came up from behind the guy and patted on his shoulder and you slowly placed the pieces together. “Well hello Jake, hello Jake’s friend.” You smiled both at the two.

Between the middle of the conversation the three of you were having, you felt very uncomfortable with this new person Jake brought. He kept making comments about how you looked, how gorgeous you were, how he’d ’tap that ass’ (of course Jake’ would step in and tell him to stop), and would try to get close to you as possible.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder from behind you. You looked to your right to see Sam, who was clearly glaring at the poor guy in front of him. “Hi guys,” Sam said with a chilling smile and taunting voice. Jake, who noticed, whispered to his buddy to try to calm down and stop with the jokes. “What’s up Sam!!” The guy had yelled. You winced as looks came your way, suddenly the eyes around y’all have left. “Hey.” Sam said with a forcing smile.

“What are y’all talking about over here?” Sam asked. “Nothing really, but I was just about to ask sweet cheeks over here something.” The guy looked you up and down and you cringed, backing up into Sam to cover half of your body behind his. “And what would that be?” Sam spoke for you. He knew already you didn’t like this, and you could tell Sam was already on hinge with this guy. You could see his sharp jawline as he grit his teeth. “Wonder if she’d like to go home with me toni—” the guy could barely finish his sentence before Sam punched the guy in the nose.

Now all eyes were on you three. “Sam!” You could hear Colby yell from the other side of the apartment. “Sam!” Colby yelled again, yet Sam couldn’t hear a thing coming from anyone at the apartment. All he saw was red, up until he felt familiar rough hands on his shoulders. He looked back to see Colby with a confused face, and you with a frightened face. He looked down to see that the guy who was previously flirting with you was knocked out cold, and now noticing all eyes were on him.

He coughed. “Uh—” Sam started off. “Brother, you’re a menace!” Corey shouted from the balcony up above. Laughter could be heard through out the apartment, but all he was concerned was about you right now. He looked to where you were standing, but you were seen with Kat in a corner with tears streaming down your face. His heart ached. Kat looked over with a stern look, shaking her head as she comforted you. “Can we call off the party?” Sam whispered to his best friend. He nodded.

“Alright! Party’s over. Time to go home,” Colby yelled. Boo’s could be heard but nonetheless people respected and gathered their things to leave. On the other side of the apartment, he saw Tara giving you a hug and Katrina still talking to you. Everyone finally left, Jake having to carry his embarrassment of a friend out of the apartment.

It was just the four of you guys now. Sam, Colby, Katrina, and you. The boys didn’t mind that Katrina was still there, they knew she meant good intentions and they knew the two of you were extremely close. “I don’t know what got in him,” you whispered to her.

Kat sighed, knowing exactly what you meant. “That’s how he’s like.” She responded. “He gets jealous very easily, that I know of. That right there was definitely jealousy, and if Colby wasn’t here nobody would’ve been able to stop it. Trust me. The only one who can pull him out of what he’s seeing is the one he loves the most, besides Colby. I’ve had to do it myself before,” she mumbled.

“I know Sam likes you.” She said. Your eyes widened, and you looked at her with confusion. “He doesn’t—, I’ve been his best friend since literally when we were in high school, and plus I still think he loves you completely.” You told her. She sighed with a sad smile, “listen, I am glad things ended the way they did. Because I was not the one for him, and nor was he the one for me. Everyone can clearly see, our closest friends, Colby, that you two were made for each other. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love him.” You couldn’t do it. She was right.

Kat nodded. “Now, go get Sam and have a talk with him. Tell me how it goes, all the gossip and details girl. I need to know!” She kissed you on the cheek and waved goodbye to the boys, and then left.

It was now just you, Sam, and Colby. It was quiet. “I’ll start in the kitchen,” you barely spoke but they heard you. You started to clean up, but you could hear whispers from the living room. You rolled your eyes as you saw the two doing absolutely nothing except talking. “Are you guys gonna help or…?” You asked. The two nodded, Sam walking your way and Colby staying in the living room throwing trash into a black trash bag.

It was silent with you and Sam in the kitchen, the only noise being the sound of cans and plastic bottles and plates being moved around. “Can we talk?” Sam asked you, you stopped moving and your eyes widened. Was Katrina really telling you the truth?

“About?” You asked him. “About the incident… listen I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to make you scared or frightened, I was just… something snapped inside me and I didn’t like the way he talked to you.” You hummed. You noticed Colby silently walking up the stairs with a smile on his face, and you looked at him confusingly. He gave you a thumbs up, and then he vanished. “Listen… Princess,” he spoke.

He took a deep breath in, and exhaled. “I like you.” He told you. “Scratch that, I love you.” He spoke. “I lost my chance years ago when I had the moment to tell you, but then Katrina came into my life. At the end of our relationship, you knew it was rocky because of what I was feeling then with her, but believe me when I say this. It didn’t feel right with her. It didn’t set right with me. I still felt like there was a hole in my heart, and I finally noticed why. You are my one, I know you are my one.” He whispered, so dangerously close that he could hear your shaky breathing.

“Please say something Princess…” Sam whispered, his lips almost ever touching your earlobe. “I like you too.” You whispered back. He felt a wave of anxiety wash off of his body, he dropped half of his weight onto toy, dropping the stuff he was holding and wrapping his arms around your waist. You slowly placed your own arms on his. “Can I kiss you?” He asked. His eyes scanning your face.

You nodded.

[babiedemon]

MISERABLE MAN . . . haymitch abernathy / reader

genre . . . fluff, post-war

warnings . . . age gap, mentions of war, swearing, sexual themes

inspired by miserable man — david kushner

haymitch was a drunk. he was a miserable old man with a bad temper and a lifetime worth of pent up trauma. even with the newfound peace, the end of the rebellion, the birth of a fair nation. you knew no matter the time, the level of freedom, he’d forever be a miserable old man.

you mulled over this as you approached his home, a looming tower of a house in the shambles of district twelve. you’d taken the train there, what was once a capitol luxury now a simple means of transportation. the gravel of the deserted district crunched beneath your designer boots, ricocheting off empty buildings of the desecrated town.

there was no response to the heavy knock you left on his door, or one of the side windows, or the back door. you’d almost given up hope, prepared to break the door off the hinges, muttering angry words to yourself as you rounded the side of the house, when you caught sight of a moving figure in the distance. you couldn’t mistake that mop of black hair for anything else in the world, the long hair of the former face of rebellion.

“hey, katniss!” you called over the wind rushing in the space between you. she brought her hand up to wave, a pair of squirrels dangling from her fingers, a slight smile on her softened face.

“hey, eagle eye!” she shouted in response, an echoing reminisce of your rebel nickname. “what brings you to twelve?” she was closer now, close enough for you to pinpoint where her eyes sat over her nose, the once hardened stone color softened to a plush storm cloud. she stopped a few feet before you, eyes giving you a onceover.

“here to see the drunk. any idea if he’s home?” you inquired, lifting your eyebrows. katniss tilted her head to the side, squinted against the piercing rays of the setting sun.

“knowing haymitch, he’s probably drunk off his ass right about now. he usually leaves a window cracked in the front if you wanna try getting in that way,” she suggested, switching the tails of the squirrels from one hand to the other in favor of scratching her eyebrow.

“thanks a bunch, kat. i’ll be sure to pay you a visit sometime before the week ends. lord knows i’ll have my hands full with mitch,” you hummed, slowly backing away as you spoke. she bid her silent goodbye the same way she’d bid her welcome, lifting a single hand as she parted ways toward her towering home.

you found the crack in the window almost as soon as you’d reached the top of haymitch’s stairs and pried it open, the metal frame squealing in protest as you forced the pane of glass wide enough for your body to fit through.

getting in was much harder, your body falling on the floor and taking out half the items displayed crudely on his windowsill. you were certain that you’d gained at least a few bruises from the tumble it took for you to reach the hardwood floor, a grimace on your face as you inspected your exposed, aching elbows.

“what the hell are you doing here?” haymitch sighed, his voice carrying over to the foyer from his place on the living room sofa. you couldn’t see him, and you doubted he could see you, but you guaranteed from your loud entrance he could deduce it wasn’t his usual visitor.

“is that how you greet all of your long distance girlfriends?” you asked dryly, pushing yourself up from the floor with a few grunts. you rounded the foyer into the living room, spotting haymitch’s salt and pepper curls from the entryway.

“‘s how i greet everyone, sweetheart. get used to it,” he muttered, making quick work of pouring himself another glass of liquor. his hands trembled violently, likely due to the withdrawal contorting his face, liquor splashing over the edge of his glass and pooling on the mahogany coffee table. you sighed as you seated yourself beside him, took the bottle from his hands, and shot him an unimpressed look out of the corner of your eye.

“how many have you had?” you asked, studying the hazy sheen over his stormy eyes. he tutted, lazily rolling his eyes, his body sinking into the cushions.

“only three today. woke up about six hours ago, so i’d say that’s pretty tame,” he remarked. you suppressed the agitated sigh and tipped the bottle, pouring a hefty amount of whiskey into his chosen cup.

“i thought for sure when you didn’t answer the door you were passed out in your own piss and vomit again,” you murmured, voice softened as you regarded him. he was aging, his stubble shining with a number of grey strands, the curls atop his head beginning to gain more of his eye color with every visit. he’d gained back a bit of weight in his cheeks and stomach since you’d last seen him, his face and gut now rounded out a bit more.

“i figured if it was important, whoever it was would find their way in,” he spoke, voice gruff, a pause interrupting his sentence. “i was right about both. it was important, and you did find your way. besides, i’ll have you know i happen to have cut back on my substance abuse, thank you.”

“you know i’ll always find a way to come pester you,” you mused, reclining next to him. you felt a bit of pride swelling in your chest, a smile growing on your lips as you processed his minor recovery from years of raging alcoholism. haymitch’s arm slid easily over your shoulders, an almost inaudible chuckle leaving his lips, the rim of his glass snuffing it at the source.

“you definitely are a pest,” he hummed, tongue lapping up the remnants of whiskey on his lips. “what brings you here anyways?”

“i was hoping we could spend some time together. i’ve missed you,” you spoke softly, your cheeks heating up with your admission. haymitch hummed, his nose brushing the top of your head, the smell of alcohol wafting off of him. you’d come to enjoy the bitter scent, associating it with the man you’d fallen for over the course of your teens and now early twenties.

“missed you too, doll face,” he muttered, letting his head loll against the back of the sofa. his fingertips, ever as tremorous, came to scratch at the itchy stubble spotting his chin. “got some geese around back if you wanna check ‘em out.”

“when the hell did you get geese?” you inquired, face lifted in amusement as your eyes traveled haymitch’s exposed windpipe. the skin there was red, flushed from his consistent substance abuse, and a few scratches laid about from his incessant scratching. your fingers reached to trace the raised lines, smoothing them over with your thumb.

“not that long ago. decided i needed a hobby. shit’s boring around here,” he grumbled, watching you curiously. he realized the source of your focus after a few seconds, clearing his throat embarrassedly. “my hands shake too much to shave now. can’t cut my hair either.” he gestured to the top of his head, where his curls fell unkempt to his chin. you tilted your head to the side, running your fingers through the knotted ends of his dark locks, a smile on your lips.

“i could always trim you up, mitch,” you muttered, picturing different cuts and styles framing his face. if only one thing benefited you from your days as a capitol stylist, it was the cosmetic knowledge. you got free cuts, free colors, free hemming. “i think you’d look pretty good with a shag. your curls would suit it nicely.”

“do whatever gets it out of my goddamned eyes,” he gruffed, grumpy as ever, prompting you to begin your search for his razors and scissors. for a reason you couldn’t place, you’d begun cleaning as you searched as well. you’d washed his clothes, polished the kitchen, dusted the paintings and tables, all whilst he lingered in every doorway with a bottle and glass in hand, eyes watching you with burning intensity.

“you look good cleaning,” he remarked, the devious smirk on his lips hardly hidden by his whiskey glass. he slunk towards you, footsteps slow and wobbly against the hardwood floor.

“you’re only saying that because i’m bent over scrubbing your toilet,” you muttered, standing straight up upon feeling his hips meet yours. he looped an arm around your middle, your heart beating out of your chest as you turned your face to let your gazes meet. his eyes, grey and clouded, held a heady desire you hadn’t seen in months. his body pushed yours partially forward as he leaned, settling his drink on the toilet lid in favor of taking full hold of both your hip bones.

you gulped, face red as you turned in his loose grasp, letting him back you until your hips met the bathroom counter. his hand settled beneath your chin, guiding your head up until your eyes settled back on his, his other palm settling on the marble beside your blushing body. his gaze was honed in on your parted lips, eyebrows furrowed and concentration painting his flushed face.

“haven’t seen you in ages,” he mumbled, voice breathy and depraved as a slight smirk quirked the corner of his lips. you let out a shaky laugh, looping your arms around his neck, toying with the greying curls jutting from the nape of his neck.

“i’m starting to think you missed me more than you let on,” you breathed, pupils dancing over the space between his eyes and mouth. his fingers slid, igniting a fire beneath your skin, thumb caressing your jaw and palm cupping the side of your neck. he let out a soft chuckle, leaning in just barely close enough for his chapped lips to brush the gloss from yours.

“that is the understatement of the century.” his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your buzzing lips, pulling away much too soon for your eager impatience. you sighed, breath fanning over his scruffy face, eyes squeezing shut as the smell of his musky body soap twisted with the stench of his preferred beverage.

“i’m supposed to be cutting your hair.” you chuckled airily, prying your eyes open to meet his lusted stare. he took a moment to process, no doubt distracted by the touch of your fingers to his exposed collarbone.

“you’ll have to wet my hair, right?” as he spoke, voice husky and eyes dropping to your body, he made agonizingly slow work of undoing the top few buttons of your dress shirt. you followed his train of thought, chest heaving against his fingers, eyes darting to the shower standing to your right.

“i like the way your pretty little head works.” you gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your level, lips taking his in a short lived, rough kiss. “strip, then.”

“you don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”

you couldn’t help the boisterous laughter tumbling from your chest.

[kikiiswashere]

Children of Zaun Snippet - Selfish

Silco and Kat have a post-mortem following a meeting with the rebellion.

Children of Zaun

(Art by me. Uncensored version on my Patreon)

“There are sulfur pots deeper in the cave where the Springs are,” Kat said.

She nuzzled closer, her cheekbone rubbing against Silco’s neck, her left hand idly playing with the fingers of the arm wrapped around her shoulders. A low hum vibrated in his chest as he brought his other arm behind his head. He stared up at her bedroom ceiling in thought.

“Charcoal is easy enough to come by.”

“So is saltpeter,” he added. “It’s crusting every smokestack in Zaun.”

Silence fell between them. Then a thought curled Kat’s lips.

“It is ironic that Topside would shove us underground, only to give us the tools for their own undoing.”

A darkly amused sound huffed in Silco’s chest.

“They’ll choke on their own blood and hubris,” he whispered. “We’ll show them.”

The same warmth from the meeting swelled in Kat’s chest. It felt weighty with righteousness, her lungs struggling a bit under the emotion.

Suddenly, she sat up and made to straddle Silco’s waist. He started at her abrupt movement, but quickly settled back into the pillows. The blazing earnestness in her eyes held him in place. She hinged forward and kissed him, and he reached up to touch her cheek. When she straightened, the hand ghosted over her bare breast and rested on the ribs beneath it. She smiled at him, the dim green glow of the streetlamps outside cutting her into a beautiful shape. Then her smile lessened. Her eyes broke from his gaze and looked to the window.

“What is it?”

Silco watched the muscles in her jaw flex under the chartreuse light as she decided how to articulate whatever she was thinking.

“I have to get Viktor tomorrow.”

A low, short hum rumbled in Silco’s throat. His thumb swept over the mole beneath the swell of her breast. Kat disappeared from his side when she had her brother under her wing. He saw nothing of her between Friday afternoon and Monday morning.

“I will not lie,” she said, “the tenser things between Zaun and Piltover become, the more I am worried. I know there is no way forward without violence, but I am scared something may happen to him.”

Silco gently pet her flank, trying to decide what was best and truest to say.

“You cannot hide him from this forever.”

Kat’s brows pinched. “I am not hiding him. He knows there is unrest – “

“That’s not what I am talking about.”

She said nothing for a long moment. Then sighed, “I am not ready to tell him that I am a part of this. I am not ready to tell him anything.”

Her eyes sheepishly found his in the dark, the subtext of that statement settling heavy between them. She did not want Viktor involved in this part of her life – not the Children, not Enyd, not Silco.

Not yet.

Silco did not fight her on it. It wasn’t his decision to make. Viktor was her family, her responsibility. If Kat felt it was safest for him to be kept separate for the time-being, it wasn’t his place to insist otherwise.

Even so, he asked: “When will you?”

“When our freedom is on the horizon,” she said with a smile. Then, her expression sobered. “Or when I absolutely have to.”

Silco’s lips thinned and he nodded once, his eyes breaking away from hers. Kat reached out, running the back of her fingers down his cheek and over the scar on his lip.

“He is eleven. I want him to be a child as much as he can be. I know it is a privilege most Zaunite children do not get to have, but if I can offer some semblance of youth to him, I will. I want him to have better than I did. In every way. You understand?”

He did. Of course he did. A long sigh softened Silco’s body, and he leaned into her hand.

“I understand. I am selfish, and miss you on the weekends.”

Kat’s mouth quirked into a grin. She leaned over to kiss him, her hand threading through the ebony tangle of his hair.

How easily they fell into one another. Her plushness and his angles slotting together perfectly. How much sweeter would it be once Zaun was free, when their angst lifted and floated away on a sea breeze?

She could not wait.

“I miss you, too,” Kat whispered, pulling back. Then that mischievous, secret glint flashed in her eyes. “Shall I give you something to remember me by?”

Silco’s own eyes darkened, his pupils swallowing any of the faint light filtering into the room. A wolfish grin lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Like I said: I am selfish. I will gladly take whatever you’ll give me.”

“And then some.”

“And then some,” he agreed.

She matched his smile before spinning around, diving head first beneath the covers. Silco’s large hands gripped her hips firmly, and pulled her to his mouth just as her lips wrapped around him.

[sentience-if]

Val: immediately on board, it's like giving a dog a kong ball filled with peanut butter. though if the puzzles are too difficult and they don't make it out within an hour, they'll start picking locks and breaking hinges

Ira: ultimate zen mode, fully immersed. It takes them a while to solve but only because they insist on examining all possibilities. Are you sure there's not a second secret cypher in this tea-stained note?

klaus: almost offended you thought it'd be difficult. exasperatedly solves the room in under twenty minutes, but refuses to give Io the final key until they apologize and ask very nicely

Connie: pacing the room like an upset tiger, feeling a little too claustrophobic to think through any of the puzzles. probably solves it on complete accident by spotting something that looks obviously out of place like the one animated thing in a scooby doo episode

Kat: happy as a clam, absolutely breaking all the puzzles and solving in completely unintended ways. wrong formula, right answer every single time, and she's clearly doing it on purpose. eventually the staff running the escape room have a breakdown and kick her out

[postcard-from-the-past]

Women from the Kat Hing Wai village, Hong Kong, China

Chinese vintage postcard, mailed in 1979 to the Netherlands

[bulletbilltime]

Ok time to unpack the Bloom & Rage polycule and my thoughts on each of the pairs within:

Swann & Kat: Easily my fave Swann pairing, and tbh my fave pairing in the game overall. Maybe I'm biased bc Kat is best girl but also they just have a nice dynamic. Swann being the more shy outcast, and Kat being someone who tends to prefer staying in the background gives them a fair amount of common ground to begin with. Swann IMO loves how passionate Kat is, and Kat appreciates having someone who gets her, who doesn't treat her like someone to worry about. In the group, they're the ones that vibe a lil further in the back while Nora and Autumn are the ones charging forward IMO. They fit perfectly idk

Swann & Nora: I feel like this one is fairly straightforward. Nora openly flirts with Swann and Swann would definitely think Nora is super cool. I def think they have some amount of chemistry.

Swann & Autumn: I think their dynamic as adults is more endearing than as teens tbh. Maybe it's bc we get to see a lot more of it overall due to the game's structure, but I feel like at the point we're at in the game, they're still mostly platonic. I think with time maybe they'd grow fond of each other though, especially if everyone starts just kinda dating one another. That being said, Swann's camera seems like something that would be a point of contention, because at the playground Autumn gets frustrated with you if you're constantly filming while searching for the brick, and Kat spills that Autumn thinks her filming is getting in the way of their hanging out.

Nora & Autumn: Absolutely friends to lovers coded. They're constantly trading quips at one another. Someone else before said they're 3 seconds from admitting they love each other and they were correct lmao.

Nora & Kat: Not my fave Kat ship but they definitely make a bunch of flirty? quips at one another, which I think after the staged kiss makes sense. There's definitely something there for sure. And I think their propensity for goofing around could be a point to bond over, though Nora might sometimes think Kat goes too far at times. There's a chance for them to get frustrated at one another, but I don't think it fully negates it for me.

Autumn & Kat: Probably the weak link of the polyship for me tbh. I don't feel like they've had enough time to really interact with one another, and the moments we've had give me the impression they don't really get along that well. Especially when she fakes being electrocuted at the Mikaelsen ranch fence, or when Kat immediately tries to break into the cabin. I feel like Kat would be more likely to see Autumn as someone like Dylan; someone who's trying to restrain her.

Unlike what I initially expected, I feel like Nora of all ppl would be the hinge of the polycule. She has chemistry with pretty much every single other girl in the group. It would be a bit of an uneven polycule, since by design they all have points of contention with one another and might feel a bit miffed when one part of the polycule wins out over the rest. But I suppose that's pretty realistic, and wouldn't necessarily get in the way. I think I'm just needing to be sold on Autumn's chemistry with Swann and Kat. Until then, I think my view of this ship is "Hi I'm Swann and this is my gf Kat. This is our gf, Nora. And this is Nora's gf Autumn". Which works well enough for me.

[katareyoudrilling]

Hey Kat!

I'm back in your Asks again.

If you could get Joel to construct anything in your house or garden, what would you choose and why?

Hi El! You are always welcome in my asks! What a great question! I’m afraid I have the most boring answer though…

But Joel is all about quality construction and doing things the right way, not about the flash so hopefully he would be into it…

I want new kitchen cabinets. I want them in the same layout and the same color (white) as the ones I have now, but well built with pull out shelves and soft close doors with hidden hinges…

If Joel could do that for me, I would be very very happy.

What would you have Joel do??? I love hearing about home improvement projects!

Some of the projects and tips I wrote about in Construction Corner were inspired by projects I have done myself (or assigned my husband to do lol). I’ll put before and after photos of my favorite one below the cut!

Rustic stamped brick (you can’t tell but there are leaves and paw prints stamped into some of those bricks) to modern, fun tile and concrete! My dad and I did this together. I designed the surround and he built it. We both learned to tile and pour concrete to finish it off. We pulled the old mantle off but the rest is underneath. It makes me smile every day 😍

[ask-the-badman]

The genuine tone in Johnny’s voice made my stomach flip with butterflies. A sweet smile lingering on my lips but only for a moment before the tinge of hurt really sunk in.

“Happy ta hear you say it”, I giggled hands now sat in the dips of his waist as I looked up at him. “I’m glad you’ve.. Enjoyed our time as much as I have. Gotta admit, makes me feel a lil better knowin’ I’m not just some lovesick puppy pawin’ at your heels gettin’ on your nerves.”

Meeting Johnny and his family and being around for the last couple weeks has been the most fun I’ve had in years. Though it took some getting used to with Nancy on my ass I’m thankful for the experiences, even the scary ones. Shit, turns out the gore of things has been the most exciting, and having Johnny there through it all has helped me dig up a few skeletons I forgot were there. Some I’m not so proud of but others.. I’ve began to fawn over. And now I’ve got to prepare to seal up that part of me, go back to the same house with the same walls, and the same damn routine.

I dropped my arms at my sides as I stepped away from him, the warmth between us replaced with the icy chill that’s nestled in through the dips and cracks in the wood of his creaky old shack.

“Gotta get goin’. The temps droppin’ and I’d rather not freeze on my way back down here”, I chuckled. “Stay warm.” With a smile and a wave I made my way out towards Nancy’s. Knowing Drayton would probably be ready to tan my hide if I didn’t hurry along I jogged up the steps and rushed to the vehicle I had parked outside.

The car hummed to life as my hands white knuckled the steering wheel. Unsure of what was to come and unsure of what I’d do.

All I could do now was rely on the sliver of faith I had left and hope that it was just enough to win Nancy over at least for a little while as I pulled down the drive as fast as I could without knocking the gate off of its hinges.

(Glad to be back! I hope you’re well also. I love our little role play we’ve got going, it’s my fav I look forward to it every time I get on here!<3 Life is just hectic right now so if my responses are late I apologize in advance.)

"Tch, y'ain' none'a that." Johnny scoffed before slowly letting go of Kat with a neutral expression on his face. Not exactly happy to see her go, but if Drayton was going to be a pain then there was no use in keeping her longer. Though the chill of the air between them wasn't something he liked either.

"See ya 'round." He waved her off.

Though once she left his shack, he walked to the window to watch her go until she disappeared before running a hand through his greasy, sweaty hair. Kicking a few empty cartons, he made his way back to the couch and rifled through the garbage to find himself a cigarette and lighter, quickly lighting up and slumping back into his seat.

There were no lights on in the house, which meant Nancy still wasn't back from whatever excursion she's on so he would have to talk to her in the morning. Which was fine, he'd rather hold off talking to he woman as long as he could. Until then, he still had laundry to do, and a couple new bodies to bleed out before going to bed.

Plenty of time to think of a way to convince Nancy that Kat was more valuable to the Family than her own Father...

(I feel that, sorry it took me so long to get to this. Life sure has been chaotic here but it's gotten better at least. Glad you're having fun though with this and don't worry. There is no late or early, just do what you can when ya feel it. ♥)

[petrikaira]

The Butler

Ch 9: Before the Canis Royals

Pg 3 (Previous, Next)

Rating: T for Teen

The nervousness was not exactly abated. He could feel the flutter of his own heart, the panic building that he might be taken back to the fae kingdom. Turned into a babe with blunted fingers to practice being raised. That something else might happen to him if his Canis lieges made the fae queen and king agree to not turn him to a babe, but relinquished him to their control anyways. 

He thought about Ilse’s body on the ground. Bloodied, and her eyes unseeing. He thought about what it would mean to be a babe, with parts of himself locked away. Would he ever know? Would the thing he became at the hands of the fae know who he had been? The thought of that was terrifying, in a way he couldn’t quite grasp. Alive but not himself.

“What are you most afraid of?” Queen Aikaterine asked, her voice soft in the dimly lit throne room.

Butler looked up. They were speaking plain, of a sort. He may as well. “Whatever happens, your Majesty, I do not want to go back with the fae royals,” He said. “If you have to kill me instead, do that.”

Queen Aikaterine gazed at him, red eyes locked. He felt his breath still in his lungs. His fingers curled and he pressed his claws to the pads of his hands. She watched him. He watched her. He was afraid she was going to tell him no. 

Prince Yuki leaned forward. “I think Kat and I need to know one more thing,” he said.

“What is it?” Butler’s mouth felt dry. 

“How far would you be willing to go to get the fae satisfied, and leave you here?” Prince Yuki asked.

“My liege-?” 

Butler couldn’t be sure what he meant. He would not go with them, and be subject to his whims.

“Say- if they demand what you had promised them,” Yuki said. “How far?”

Butler furrowed his brow. He tilted his head for a moment. Swallowed. 

“If it meant not going with them- and not dying-” He murmured. He considered. All of this had hinged on a child. He did not want to steal one from a human family, but at this point, it would be better than not. 

“Would you give up part of yourself for it?” Yuki asked. “But not all?”

Butler’s heart hammered heavily in his chest. Part, but not all… He furrowed his brow. There were plenty of ways that could go. His memories, which would leave him in a similar situation to a babe in the fae court. Himself, but not. Except the body would stay. He swallowed.

“You are free to tell us your thoughts on the matter,” Queen Aikaterine said. Her eyes had remained locked on him, unblinking. “My husband’s ideas are not always the most sound.”

“I am fine with killing because I would remain myself, my lieges,” Butler muttered. “But anything that turns me from myself, in this body- I would not like.”

Prince Yuki leaned his head into his hands, his own red eyes locked on Butler. He blinked. “What if it was something like a hand?”

Butler winced. “That’s draconian-” he said. A hand for a child! He wasn’t sure the fae would ever want that, would ever go for it-

“I bring it up because I may have to do something draconian,” the Prince said. “We may have to decide on something like that, to satisfy the fae royals. I’m sure they’re taking this as a slight on their honor as well as their beings, and you know how the fae can be.”

(Previous, Next)

[timeguardians]

Kat is NOT a fool who suffers excuses! Certainly NEVER pathetic ones. His excuses, in particular, scantly seem to move her. His writhing causes a shallow etch-a-sketch grin to appear. It was quite attractive, watching the ways his muscles twitched and flexed beneath the powerful jilts.

"UHGT!!!!" The temptress viciously cuts him short. "You're a soldier." She corrects. "Are you not?" She snips in his ear. "Or perhaps..." She nastily starts, "your resume has been OVER inflated by ego--." Laughing she adds, "and you're really just a failure--"

"If you are incapable, I have no more use for you--." Kat croons gifting him another series of jilts though he's super weak already. "Unless-" The word hinges perilously in the air, "You agree to HELP me get in---" Then with an evil more cut-throat grin. "And you'll KILL this BATWOMAN and her butler for me. Is that UNDERSTOOD?" He's close enough to this woman to get a clean shot. A shot she'd NEVER see coming because she's blinded by something as STUPID as love.

She leans into his bubble, as she often did when Bri lay here on the floor, where Kat would've tormented her in a more intimate, unfeeling way with him. He knows that won't happen anymore, most likely, but there is a sick feeling that it would've been preferable to whatever rage is storming behind her dark eyes. The yank to his hair causes a slight yelp but it's covered by her words, echoing through the chamber, rattling his bones, even. Kindness...the only kindness she could offer would be death.

He says none of that though, for her rage manifests in another holler and pulling his head back further until he can't move: the collar bites into the back of his neck, she uses that nickname he detests and is tempted to spit in her face, but knows better of it by now. The command is drowned out by the shocks, higher in intensity than they have been, and he writhes on his knees, arms above him twist as he screams and soon goes limp again, a moment of rest he won't get again. "It's-it's heavily protected." Voice is airy and small, exhausted, and his gaze meets hers. "You'll never get in."

[photographytoenhongkong]

Kat Hing Wai, el curioso caso de la puerta de hierro fundido

Era 1899 y China había cedido los Nuevos Territorios de Hong Kong a Gran Bretaña. Los moradores del área de Kam Tin opusieron resistencia a las nuevas autoridades coloniales y se produjeron enfrentamientos, confinados los habitantes de la zona en la ciudad amurallada de Kat Hing Wai, tras sus puertas. Sir Henry Blake, gobernador en la época, desmontó y se llevó la puerta de hierro fundido que vemos hoy a la entrada, con la consiguiente humillación que produjo en los residentes. Después de que los habitantes opusieran resistencia al mandato inglés, y una vez vencidos y sometidos, decidió que la puerta sería un trofeo de guerra y la envió hasta Irlanda. Sin embargo en 1925 y debido a la insistencia del gobernador de la época, Sir Reginald Stubbs (y a la solicitud realizada por un miembro del clan de los Tang), la puerta volvió a su lugar de origen y fue de vuelta a Kat Hing Wai.

La villa fortificada más famosa en el área de Kam Tin es sin duda Kat Hing Wai (“Villa de la buena fortuna”) conservando una fortificación muy completa. Una fortificación y la famosa puerta de hierro fundido. Aunque sigue conservando su encanto, en tan solo unos pocos años, los que van desde mi primera visita al lugar hasta mi ultima aparición por la zona, la villa ha cambiado bastante y este cambio es debido a la ausencia de algunas de las señoras que te recibían en la entrada con sus sombreros tradicionales. Es ley de vida y las señoras se han hecho mayores, algunas habrán fallecido, otras no tendrán humor para estar esperándote a la entrada y las que lo hacen utilizan unos gorros que ya no son los que eran, o al menos no lo son todos los días. Quien sabe, quizá sea cosas de días y cambien el atuendo o quizá sea cuestión de suerte. El caso es que desde la primera vez que fui, en mi mente asocié Kat Hing Wai con las señoras de los sombreros y siempre que he vuelto lo he hecho por verlas. Señoras con un poco de mala hostia al principio pero que con paciencia y conversación, terminan por regalarte unas risas.

Posiblemente ya no sean todos los habitantes, pero una mayoría de los pobladores de la villa siguen siendo descendientes del clan de los Tang, apellido que sigue siendo popular entre los habitantes. Habitantes que viven dentro de una muralla que recorre la villa. Muralla que sigue siendo la original, aunque a parte de ella, lo demás ha cambiado. Con el desarrollo económico de Hong Kong de los años 60 las viejas casas, baste incómodas para vivir, se demolieron y se construyeron nuevas. Pienso que es una pena no conservar las estructuras antigua ya que eran mucho más atractivas a la vista, pero al mismo tiempo imagino que las nuevas casas serán mucho más habitables y confortables que las de estructuras tradicionales. 

Kat Hing Wai fue construida a finales del siglo XV y los muros que vemos en la actualidad se levantaron a finales del XVII y comienzos del XVIII (con sus torres  en los extremos). Muros que han servido durante siglos para proteger a los habitantes de la villa de piratas, bandidos, clanes rivales, ladrones e incluso peligrosos animales salvajes. Se trata de una villa casi cuadrangular de unos 100 metros por lado y en la que una entrada estrecha da acceso a la  calle principal (también estrecha) desde la entrada, calle desde la que se distribuyen callejones a los lados por la pequeña aldea. Una aldea en la que los los huertos y los campos de cultivo ya no son abundantes, prácticamente han desaparecido. Aun así sigue manteniendo Kat Hing Wai un carácter rural como pocos lugares de Hong Kong.

[bambolinawrites]

Random nsfw HC’s

Characters: Katsuki, Dabi, Izuku, Kirishima

warnings: d/s dynamics on some, femme reader, femme domme, femme sub, dom Kirishima, pussy eating, vaginal sex, public sex, exhibitionism, possessiveness, praise kink, hand jobs, blow jobs, implied face fucking, dumbification, condescension, slight dubcon?, use of pet names (princess, doll, baby, puppy) let me know if i missed anything!

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Katsuki

Would one hundred percent eat you out till you cry. You cannot convince me this man doesn’t have a SEVERE pussy eating addiction. One taste and he’s hooked. 

Katsuki storms into the apartment, slamming the door so hard it shakes on it’s hinges. You look up from where you’re reading on the couch. 

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?” You ask sweetly, dog earing your page and placing the book down beside you. He ignores you and stomps your way. You expect him to sit down next to you and rant about his day but instead he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you. 

Before you can ask what he’s doing, strong hands are tearing your tiny pyjama shorts off and flinging your legs over his shoulders so he’s face to face with your pussy. You squeal in surprise. 

“Kats!” You giggle trying to wiggle free of his bruising grip. He growls and holds you still. He takes a second to kiss the inside of your soft thighs, breathing in your addictive scent, and then he’s beginning his assault on your poor cunt. 

His tongue darts out to taste your pussy, already wet from his sudden display of strength. He groans at the first taste and dives back in. He runs his tongue over every part of you, not wanting to let any of it go to waste. 

You’re moaning and writing on the couch, hands carding through his blonde hair, tugging when he sucks your puffy clit into his mouth. His hands knead the fat of your hips, nuzzling his nose into your pelvis so he can inhale you. He wants to be completely surrounded by you. 

He eats you out like a man starving, he swears he doesn’t need anything else in this world but your pussy. Man could die happy after this. 

When he’s done (Not when you’re done, but when he’s satisfied), he wipes the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand then kisses you. Wants to hear you moan as you taste yourself. 

When you ask him why his day was so bad, he can barely even remember. He swears your pussy is like a magic potion. Your pretty great too he guesses. 

Dabi

Would one hundred percent fuck you in public. I know it’s been done a hundred times but HE WOULD. He would get off on the fact that the two of you could get caught at any minute. He kind of hopes you do so everyone knows you’re all his. Even if the two of you aren’t officially dating. Yet.

“Dabi - fuck - we’re gonna get caught!”

He has you pinned to the wall of the alley, rough brick cutting into your hands as he fucks you from behind. He grunts in your ear before biting down on your neck - hard. You cry out but try to muffle it with your hand. 

Dabi slaps your ass. “Don’t try and be quiet, doll. Let me hear you.” The sinful words are whispered into your ear and you clench around his dick. He seems to be hitting spots you didn’t even know existed and your eyes roll back. 

“Dabi” You whine drawing out the I. “Have to stop.” You don’t stop him though when his hand snakes down your abdomen and draws lazy circles on your puffy clit. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder as he picks up the pace with a dark chuckle. 

“Dabi” He mocks you, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on your shoulder. “Thought you wanted me to stop, princess.” He drawls before sucking a hickey onto your neck. “She sure doesn’t”

She. He’s talking about your pussy. Personifying it is so dirty and lewd that it makes you clench and moan. Dabi snickers in your ear. 

“Dirty fucking girl. And all for me, eh?” When you don’t answer quick enough he thrusts harshly, slamming you roughly into the wall and making you see stars. 

“All yours! Fuck, all yours! Just please, hurry up and make me cum before we get caught!” 

“As you wish, dollface.”

Izuku

Babyboy would be SO into praise. He’d love praising you, telling you how pretty you are and how good you are. He’d also love you telling him what a good boy he is, how big and strong he is. Praise either way just makes this man’s brain mush. 

“Good boy”

Two little words and he’s a whimpering mess. Lying on his back on your bed, you straddling his thighs, his big cock leaking in your hands. His green eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a pretty O shape. 

“Aw, you wanna cum, baby?” You ask as you lazily pump his cock, pulling your hand away to spit in it. Izuku nods hastily making small whimpers and whines in the place of actual words. You click your tongue and tilt your head though his eyes are still closed. 

“Can you use your words, puppy?” You coo giving his cock a gentle squeeze making him moan loudly. You bring your free hand down to cup his heavy balls and he lets out a string of curses. 

“Please! Please!” He begs, fists clutching the sheets in desperation. You laugh lightly. You lean forwards so you’re breath is hitting his pink-tinged ears. You hum softly and give his balls a squeeze just to hear the pretty sounds he makes when you do. 

“Please what, pretty boy?” You ask softly, trailing light kisses along the shell of his ear. He whimpers and whines, manages broken almost words until he manages to say, 

“Please let me cum!” 

You sit up again and start fisting his cock faster and faster, massaging his balls at the same time. He’s writhing and squirming in the sheets as he moans so loud the neighbours can definitely hear. 

“Oh, good boy. Cum for me.” 

The second the words leave your glossy lips he’s shooting thick ropes of white cum all over your hand and his stomach. He cums with shouts of your name and a slew of thank yous. Such a good boy. 

Kirishima 

Kiri would be so sweet and condescending. He would say the meanest, dirtiest things in the sweetest tone just to confuse you. He would get off on the confused, needy, upset looks on your face. 

“Come on, baby, you can do better than that, can’t you?” His tone is so sweet and condescending, like he’s helping you. You whine with his cock halfway in your mouth. You’re trying so hard to fit it all he’s just so big!

Kirishima pats the back of your head coaxingly, trying to get you to move forwards on his spit covered cock. You try, gagging as he hits the back of your throat once again. Drool is coating your mouth, your chest, his abdomen. You’re filthy and he loves it. 

“You want to make me feel good, don’t you, baby?” He asks in that sweet tone that brings tears to your eyes. Of course you do, you’re trying. He’s just too damn big!

You pull off and cough and splutter trying to catch your breath again. Kiri sighs and looks at you like he’s disappointed, like he expected better. 

“Thought you wanted to be a good girl?” He asks, his tone never changing even if his words did. You whine and nod frantically. 

“You’re too big!” You sob, tears rolling down your cheeks as you look up at him. He sighs again and cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. The action is so soft even if his next words aren’t. 

“God, you really are pathetic, aren’t you?” He swipes away your tears with his thumb as he says it, looking at you like he feels sorry for you. You cry harder but his face doesn’t change. It’s almost like he doesn’t acre. 

That can’t be true though, can it? He’s so sweet. Kiri is always sweet to you, his dumb little bimbo girlfriend. Everyone always says so. 

“No!” You cry. “Wanna be a good girl, Kiri! Wanna be good!” You beg, shuffling closer to him on your knees. He gives you a small smile and you want to cry from happiness. If he’s smiling, he can’t be disappointed, right?

“Well, since you’re too dumb to do it yourself, why don’t you let me help.” 

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Kirishima’s got away from me a bit there - oops! Let me know what you think!

If you like this please like and rb, reblogs help more than likes!

[globetrotter28]

Another Cover Up (Part 10)

Fandom: The Boys

Summary: After Herogasm, Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy realise they might need more reinforcements. After doing more research, they discover the woman who was also injected with Compound V alongside Soldier Boy back in the 40’s. Everyone also thought she was KIA that day at Nicaragua. But if Soldier Boy was still alive… maybe she was too?

If you DO wish to be tagged for future updates, please let me know.

If there is a line, the tag didn’t come up for you, or you have changed your handle and I’m not tagging X amount of people who I don’t know.

Tags: @msbadgirl @queenofspades20 @mimzy1994 @erinnkenobi @goldngguk @ateliefloresdaprimavera @roseblue373 @acarboni21 @sexyvixen7 @buckybarnes-1917 @valkyrie418 @multishipper @bxwitched @capswife @bluedragonflylady @leigh70 @xxemoluverxx @quixscentsposts @junie-keene @depressed-kay @deansbbyx @just-levyy @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @kat-nee @themerc-with-a-mouth @howlerwolfmax @horrorgirl4life @spnwoman @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jvanilly

Chapter warnings: drug use

Part 9

Series Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back to The Legend's was... awkward... to say the least...

After Butcher got Hughie back on his feet, he took him back to the car where they found Soldier Boy. He was sitting on the hood, head in his hand whilst the other was holding a fresh joint. He looked equally pissed off and defeated. Butcher had noticed that Y/N wasn't there and looked around.

"She's gone on ahead." Soldier Boy's gruff voice said. Butcher looked over to him, seeing him still with his head in his hand.

After getting the three of them into the car, he starts the engine and drives down the road that they had come in on. Soon, he see's your figure walking down the road and comes to a stop just beside you. You too come to a stop and just stare ahead, hearing Hughie and Butcher's thoughts, wondering about what Mindstorm had told the two of you.

After about a minute of contemplating whether or not you could deal with the not spoken aloud questions for almost two hours, you give up and get into the back of the car. You knock Ben's shoulder with your own as you slide in, ignoring his grunt. The air is thick with tension, coming from every single member of their rag tag group.

Ben is glaring at the back of Hughie's head, just as you are. Hughie is trying to make himself appear as small as he can, feeling the two sets of eyes staring daggers at him. Butcher is staring at the road ahead of him, feeling the tension, but lost in the nightmare he had to live in his head not long ago, his emotions all over the place, but also worrying about Soldier Boy and you strangling Hughie to death.

As you hear everyone's thoughts for approximately half an hour, you get fed up and reach forward between the two seats. Hughie flinches out of the way, pushing himself against the window as much as he can to get away from you. You give him the deadliest side-eye, as you scoff before flicking Butcher's fucked radio on.

"Anything is better than the three of your thoughts..." you grunt as you sit back into your seat, looking out at the view passing you by.

You spend the rest of the drive back listening intently to all of the song lyrics. That way you didn't have to hear their thoughts that had started to give you a killer headache... Well... it was only one of the contributing factors... When you finally pull up to the house, Ben shoves the door open and slams it behind him, making both you and Hughie flinch this time. He storms into the house, almost ripping the front door off it's hinges.

You open your door and close it behind yourself, before you walk off into the trees surrounding the house. You keep walking until you find a clearing. You walk out into the middle of it and fall back into the soft grass, breathing out a heavy breath and look up into the star-filled sky above you.

Meanwhile, Ben finds himself walking to your room. The one you both shared the night before. He sees the bed made, the corners as sharp as a blade. It was something you both picked up when you served in the army. As he walks deeper into the room, he can practically smell the sex in the air. Ben feels a slight tug at the edge of his mouth at the memory of your soft skin under his rough hands.

He finds the seat in the corner and sits in it. He feels a heaviness of emotion flood through him as he thinks about what Dan had said to both himself and Y/N. He even feels the prick of tears in his eyes at the fact that he did in fact have a son... that he missed out on the opportunity to raise said son...

Ben looks over to the phone sitting on the bedside table... he never had a need to call the Vought Tower before... he had assistants who would have done that for him, not that that ever occurred. At least not to his knowledge, why the fuck would he care anyway? He decides to pick it up, hold it to his ear, and hears the dial tone.

Yep. It's works... he dials in the number for the directory assistance and waits a moment. He's quickly greeted by a voice asking how they can help him. Once Ben tells them "Vought", the ringing tone starts.

"Vought Tower, how can I help you?" A man's voice greets him.

"I wanna speak to Homelander." Ben didn't realise how tight his throat is until that moment.

"I'm sorry, sir. What does this pertain to?" The man asks, a fed up tone to his voice. He gets a thousand calls like this every day.

"None of your fucking business." Ben growls. "Get him on the phone."

"Sir, I can't just put him on the phone with you."

"Oh, you can and you will."

"Sir, if you don't tell me what this pertains to, I can't put you through." The man sighs heavily. "Even then, it would go to his assistant if it meets the protocol."

"You listen to me, you little shit." Ben feels his blood pressure rising. "I know that building and I know where you could hide if I come looking for you. Put me through, or I will find you and blow you sky fucking high after I've pulled your inverted dick out through your mouth." Ben threatens.

The man is silent on the other end for a moment.

"I'll call him and see if he's available."

"Atta boy."

As Ben is locked away and Y/N is still outside, Hughie offers to get food.

"Fish and chips." Butcher says, a far away look on his face. He doesn't entirely know why, but maybe because it just reminded him of home. He used to take Lenny out on Fridays after school, before... well, before he left...

"Uh... sure." Hughie panics mildly. Where the hell am I going to find that? "I'll do my best."

Butcher stands there for almost an hour... just thinking about reliving his childhood... his fear of his father... his hatred of his mother for not doing anything about his father... his heartbreak of losing Lenny... and ultimately his hatred for himself for leaving Lenny behind...

He's interrupted by a feminine cough. He looks up and sees you standing there, an equally heartbroken look on your face.

"Mind if I join you?" You ask, gesturing to the whiskey next to Butcher on the pool table he's leaning against.

"Su-" Butcher coughs, realising he was crying and his throat had closed up. "Sure." He wipes the tears off his face.

Y/N walks over to lean against the table opposite Butcher grabbing the bottle of liquor. You take a large gulp and place it on the edge of the table. Arms crossed, your eyes now on Butcher's dirty old boots, you break the silence.

"Without meaning to make you uncomfortable..." you speak up. "I'm sorry about what you've been through. Both in your childhood and recently."

Butcher makes eye contact with you, and nods softly. He knows what you're saying and to his own surprise, he appreciates it.

"I'm going to tell you something... something that is really hard to say." Butcher eyes you as you look up into his brown orbs. "Hard because... I've come to respect you Billy. And if it were me in your shoes, I'd want to know."

Butcher frowns slightly, confused as to where this is going.

"Go on then". He says, hand gesturing for you to share.

"1980... October, they took me into the lab for testing. Genetic testing. They said they wanted to see if Supes were able to reproduce. A family is something I always wanted, and there hadn't been any studies done. Both Ben and I were the oldest that we knew of and neither of us had children... well... none that anyone knew about...." Y/N scoffs in reference to Ben's whorish ways. "They did a whole bunch of tests, ultrasounds, shots... eventually harvested some eggs..." you grimace at the memory of the procedure without any form of anesthetiser... like you mentioned to Butcher previously, just because you were a Supe, didn't mean you didn't feel anything... "they didn't even try to give me something for the pain..."

"Cunts..." Butcher says softly, earning him a small smile.

"I never knew until today Ben was taken in as well... or what the result was..." Butcher frowns at this... having an idea of where this is going. "Using Ben's sperm, my egg and some random woman... a child was born, spring of 1981." You swallow heavily. "A boy."

Butcher knew exactly who you were talking about. You can hear Butcher's thoughts racing around his mind. Wondering if after everything you said in the car the other day, still held up. Were you still going to help get rid of the monster that terrorised Butcher all these years...? That hurt his wife who he loved more than anything? Even scared his wife's son who he truely loved as his own...

"Yes." Your voice breaks his thoughts.

"What?"

"Yes. I will still help you, Billy." Butcher still forgot that ability of yours... "You know... people say the memory is a fragile thing. You don't always remember what you think you do, it tends to change from what actually happened, that's why the police want witness statements as soon after the event as possible. And they aren't wrong. But... when you can see what someone else once saw... once felt... an event that was... significant... traumatic. The emotions are what really stick with you. It's really the emotions that I trust, and I've seen the emotion in you... seen the emotion of your wife, of Ryan through you." Butcher feels the hope resurfacing in him. "That... monster... is not my son. Ben and I... we aren't anything but donors. We aren't anything to him. He's nothing to me."

"You haven't even met him." Butcher says.

"I don't need to. I won't lie, when Dan told us... told us that, I... I felt something. I don't know what, it was short lived. Then I just felt hatred. Something I've grown familiar with, but hatred in pretty much everything. But specifically hatred in the fact that a part of me created that man. I'm not perfect. Ben isn't perfect. You're not perfect. Fucking no one is perfect. But Homelander? He's out of control, and I may be the only one to stop him."

Butcher remains silent after hearing you speak. His phone interrupts his thoughts, and he looks down seeing a number he doesn't recognise. He decides to answer it.

It's Starlight, asking after Hughie. You can hear the conversation and grow concerned from what Annie is telling Butcher about the Temp V creating lesions in the brain. As you're listening, the static you've seen in Butcher's mind all makes sense. You knew his brain was fucked, but you never connected the dots. And you realise you'd begun to notice the same type of static on Hughie's brain.

After Butcher promises he'll tell Hughie and hangs up on Annie, he puts the phone down and looks to you.

"Billy..." you don't really know what to say until you hear a door at the top of the stairs close.

You feel the anger sweep through you again, directed at Hughie as you see him come down the stairs.

"Okay. Hi." Hughie greets, eyeing you carefully. "The only thing open was Long John Silver's. So... I guess that's kinda fish and chips, right?"

"Yeah. Nice one." Butcher says.

"I'm gonna... head up stairs..." you say, giving Butcher a look and telepathically say, "You have to tell him."

"Y/N, I-"

"Not yet." You cut off Hughie, walking right passed him and up the stairs.

You wander back to your room after you see Ben wasn't in his. As you walk into the bedroom, you see Ben putting the phone back on the hook. You pause at the door, wondering who he could be talking to until you read his thoughts.

"What did you do?" You ask, your stomach dropping to the floor knowing damn well what he just did.

"Just had a conversation with our son."

You grimace at the nausea and rage that courses through you.

"He is not our son." You hiss.

"Of course he is. He's a part of you and a part of me."

"Ben... no. That's not how this works."

"Well, what am I meant to call him?!" He yells.

"He's a fucking psychopath!" You yell back.

"What is it that he's done so bad, huh? Other than meeting him one time and talking on the phone, everything else has come from that cum guzzler and the fucking limey asshole!" Ben's chest is rising and falling with anger. "You haven't even seen him, Y/N."

"I don't need to, Ben." You calmly respond.

"What if..." Ben let's out a heavy breath, pain evident in his face. "What if he's not so bad?" His voice breaks slightly, making your heart hurt.

"Ben..." you make eye contact and move over to him. You place your hands on either side of his face, his beard tickling your palms, looking deep into his eyes. "He is bad."

"But I'm bad." His chin wobbles slightly. "The things I've done... maybe he can be different."

"No. He can't."

"Show me." He whispers.

You look between both of his eyes, reading that he's serious. He won't believe you otherwise.

"Okay." You agree, tilting his head to yours so you rest each others foreheads together, and close your eyes.

You share your conversations with Hughie and Butcher, sharing their memories and stories that you collected from them. Everything that has formed your opinion of this man, your biological son, you share with Ben. When you come to the end of it, you pull back slightly to look at Ben's face. His eyes are still closed, but a tear finds it's way falling down his cheek. You softly wipe it away with your thumb and his eyelids flutter open. You don't have to read his mind to know he still struggles with this, and that he will for a while to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Ben didn't say much after that. You were able to convince him to have a shower, wash the day away down the drain like you wish you could with this whole situation.

After showering together and taking turns at scrubbing at one another's body, you found the food Hughie had bought and took it back to your room. Once eating you both laid down on your sides and just looked at each other.

Ben was struggling more than you expected him to. You didn't want to, but his emotions were so strong and conflicted, you couldn't help but see what he was seeing in his mind. Flashes of you and him raising a family together. Getting married, travelling, laughing and crying together... a life you would never get to have...

You ran your fingers through his hair, just like you used to when you would sneak into each others rooms when you were young. It always soothed him, and yourself also. He eventually fell asleep, and when you could see he was well into his dreams, you gently removed yourself from his embrace and left the room.

You found who you were looking for out on the balcony, smoke drifting up into the air above him.

"Those will kill you, you know."

Butcher turns to look at your gentle smirk on your face, a knowing look in your eyes.

"Yeah, well... pretty sure I'm already a dead man walking."

"Hmm." You hum as you come to lean next to him. He offers you the cigarette which you take between two fingers and bring to your mouth.

"You thinking about him?" You know butcher is asking about Homelander.

"Surprisingly, only a little. I'm more worried about Ben."

"Huh." Butcher scoffs slightly surprised.

"Yeah... Ben's actually pretty torn over it."

"Wasn't expecting that, I'll be honest." He takes a drag as you hand the smoke back to him.

"I shouldn't be surprised. He was always more sensitive than he portrayed himself to be." You eye butcher. "But most of them are."

He makes eye contact with you, and knows you're including him in that statement. He hates to admit it, but he knows you're right. It's why Rebecca stayed with him when he was always such an arsehole.

"I know it's going to be a lot to ask, Billy..." he looks at you. "But I need your help."

[ofwrxth]

Kat grins in reply, "I was talking about you, but good." Despite the long anticipated arrival of Saoirse, there are never any guarantees. Their nature is volatile, with the potential to be risky when it comes to pregnancies. But the fact that both Lia and her daughter were there, well and accounted for, is nothing short of a miracle. One Kat is deeply thankful for. "Once this one's knocked out for the night, I'll come back so you can get some shut eye." She says without posing it as a question. There's nothing worse than having to make decisions when your head is full of cotton.

She snorts at Jude's imitation of Lia's accent, squishing his cheeks together. "You were the cutest lil potatuh that ever was. You even had my curly hair for a lil. Bet you never seen a tater with curly hair, have ya?" Kat's grin grows as he giggles and shakes his head, taking a closer peak at his sister. Whys she sleepin' if it's still afternoon? He says, reaching out a little hand to touch Saoirse's blanket, curious. "Well, babies need lots of sleep to grow real big and they usually like to do it when their mamas are awake." She answers with a soft but sympathetic smile to Lia.

"Yeah, that's pretty normal." Kat nods, ghosting a finger over Saoirse's swaddled form. "Kinda like when you're drivin' and then forget you're drivin' and suddenly you snap back to it and it's like...holy shit I'm drivin'." A bout of light laughter escapes when Jude says holy shit in another whisper. Kat can clearly recall way she'd felt with him the moment he was born. That of all the things in the world that had once mattered – he overshadowed and outshone every one of them. Somehow, her world had expanded and narrowed all at once, hinged on the little bundle in her arm. "Feels like your heart's outside of your chest, don't it?" Kat says knowingly as Jude pokes Lia's leg. Liadan? Can I hug her?

it all feels surreal. a pregnancy that seemed to drag on forever, the delivery too. and then here she is. here they both are, mother and daughter, sometimes blinking at one another with the same furrowed brow of confusion. lia's mind can't even begin to process so much at once, other than the gratefulness she has for kat. 'me? or this lil screamer? actually, we're both alright so don't think it matters.' she chuckles, turning to smile at both kat and jude as they enter. her gaze lingers for just a moment, in case the looming shadow of a cross is behind them but of course it isn't. and she ignores it, to focus on the more pressing moment that unfolds around her. because that's what everything feels like right now, that it is happening beyond the little world formed just by saoirse and her.

she looks to jude, carefully tilting saoirse in her arms so he can get a good look at her. there's laughter at his observation. 'well, i ate a lotta that strawberry cake from the cafe so maybe it made her pink.' she teases, jude giving her a wide eyed look before she snorts. 'i'm just kiddin', she'll look normal soon. but all babies look like this, like lil potatuhs.' potatuhs. mama did i look like a potatuh. jude asks excitedly, and quiet, complete with a tennessee twang which stirs lia to laugh. 'i bet you did but i bet you was a cute potatuh.'

lia looks to kat then, a tired smile but appreciative all the same. 'it's normal to feel like i'm dreamin' awake, right?' she chuckles, unsure what to make of it all. just that morning she found herself staring at the baby girl with wide eyes, unblinking. lord knew how much time went by.

[child-of-peace]

See, I noticed before that Kat was somewhat isolated from the group (Ichabod, Matilda and Brom) and I couldn’t figure out why (it makes total sense with the finale ofc).

I think the entire arching storyline is actually Matilda’s friendship with Ichabod, all their small scenes together work towards her decision at the end. And, of course, Brom facilitates it by introducing them, but it’s the fact that Matilda specifically kept Kat on the outside, not telling her that she was working with the others looking for Henrietta’s head. She wanted something separate from Kat and the guilt she felt around that. But then Brom brought Kat into the fold and Matilda was suddenly having to defend her choices. But the way a lot of scenes are framed, Kat on one side, the others on another (like the files scene - Matilda and Brom are on one side of the counter, Kat on the other, and post-Devlyn and during the heist at the end). There is a clear divide of Matilda being on the others’ side.

And then there’s Matilda volunteering to go with Kat to “confront her dad”. Was she trying to delay the inevitable? Give Brom and Ichabod time to discover the truth? The way she left that scene, her shoulders hunched, looking so uncomfortable confused me at first. Why was she uncomfortable about leaving with her best friend? Why wouldn’t she look at Ichabod or Brom? It all makes sense now!

But yes, Ichabod bringing out the line from Matilda’s yearbook showed her that she had friends other than Kat. And she probably didn’t really have that (other than Verla) before Ichabod came to town, which is probably why she clung so tight to bringing Kat back. But now she has Brom and Ichabod and the Babes and, yes, Verla, and she’s not alone anymore. Ichabod cared enough to remember things about her, and that was enough to sway her decision.

Edit: Oh and the whole Ichabod line of (off the top of my head, I’m writing this while I get ready for work) “the nerve of her, I went grave-robbing for her, I had to go to court ‘cause of her…” is a wonderful line that shows how it is Ichabod and Matilda’s friendship that is central.

TL;DR: the entire storyline hinges on Ichabod and Matilda’s friendship and I love that so much.

[dhaaruni]

I unofficially consulted on this piece about P*yton B*achdeath, who has moved on from terrorizing Tumblr and now terrorizes the New York Times.

I like Kat Rosenfield a lot, and this part in particular stood out to me:

Meanwhile, in 2023, there are few young adults who don’t have a discoverable digital footprint dating back to their teens, the content of which should not be held against them, no matter how embarrassing or unsophisticated it might be. Those of us who came of age before the social web may thank the stars that our most cringeworthy adolescent thoughts are confined to the pages of a physical (read: burnable) diary, rather than preserved for all eternity on the internet. Yet it behooves us to recognise that one individual’s trajectory from Tumblr conspiracy theorist to NYT columnist is not substantively different to going back for your 10-year high school reunion and discovering that your lab partner from freshman biology — the one who always seemed to like dissecting frogs a little too much — is now an accomplished neurosurgeon. Rather, I want to question the trajectory whereby an argument like this one — which ultimately hinges less on historical accuracy than the desire of its author that it be true — can make its way into the pages of the New York Times. Partly, this might be down to the existence of a commissioning editor on staff who likes to source their pitches from Twitter, where Thomas went viral last spring with a thread advancing the same thesis ultimately argued in the Alcott essay. But there is something here, too, about the ability of an ultimately half-baked idea to sneak past the gatekeepers of our most storied media institutions.

Like, we as a society have got to be better at discerning the truth and parsing through all the waffle, that's all I'm going to say.

If people are going to label any pushback as reactionary conservatism, that's really counterproductive and decidedly not how we're going to achieve social progress!