#I love them so much and I neglect them so much

[hoseoksluna]

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy. 

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world. 

White wine. 

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks. 

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him. 

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now. 

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight. 

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.” 

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you. 

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too. 

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently. 

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion. 

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy. 

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before. 

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room. 

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.” 

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away. 

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard. 

“Taste it for me first.” 

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too. 

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.” 

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp. 

“More.” 

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?” 

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum. 

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it. 

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good. 

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name. 

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree. 

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain. 

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts. 

“You’re gonna take control of me?” 

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face. 

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.” 

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?” 

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.” 

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way. 

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?” 

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.” 

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?” 

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.” 

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up. 

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession. 

“No, not from her. Please, from you.” 

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger. 

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper. 

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.” 

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants. 

“Boxers, too?” 

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.” 

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp. 

And he lets you. In the name of love. 

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home. 

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him. 

How sweet. 

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?” 

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch. 

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view. 

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain. 

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?” 

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth. 

You knew it. 

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.” 

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him. 

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan. 

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?” 

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you. 

“Vinny.” 

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable. 

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?” 

“Please.” 

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger. 

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether. 

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness. 

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him. 

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.” 

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.” 

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.” 

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is. 

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”  

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?” 

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths. 

Then, Jungkook glares at you. 

“I’m gonna destroy you.” 

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.” 

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his. 

And he proves you right. 

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” 

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid. 

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.” 

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it. 

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does. 

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did. 

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.” 

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?” 

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings. 

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it. 

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him. 

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine. 

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come. 

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?” 

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.” 

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow. 

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again. 

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless. 

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.” 

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?” 

“And your snores.” 

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him. 

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time. 

You shake your head. “I messed up.” 

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock. 

“No, I shouldn���t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.” 

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.” 

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?” 

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?” 

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.” 

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.” 

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks. 

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down. 

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand. 

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets. 

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.” 

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.” 

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back. 

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.” 

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.” 

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering. 

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there. 

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.” 

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?” 

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.” 

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?” 

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole. 

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue. 

“Sit up. Ride my face.” 

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake. 

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take. 

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come. 

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew. 

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him. 

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.” 

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest. 

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.” 

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars. 

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease. 

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.” 

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit. 

And then he gets up. 

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back. 

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you. 

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.” 

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them. 

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth. 

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves. 

“I love you, Ggukie.” 

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips. 

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.” 

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can. 

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart. 

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[comradekatara]

sokka, katara, and the paradox of “the gifted child”

something i’ve noticed is a tendency to (mis)characterize sokka as someone who is dismissed due to being a nonbender, when that’s only partially true. sokka is certainly dismissed by some for not being a bender (namely, by benders), but i think there’s a key difference between being dismissed and not being valued in one specific way. katara was valued by her tribe for being a waterbender for the very crucial reason that she was the last one left. had she been a dime a dozen in her tribe, which would have been the case were it not for the systemic extermination of her people, she would not be valued as highly for possessing this skill. that said, while sokka clearly does hold some resentment over his lack of bending ability, calling himself “the guy in the group who’s regular,” i think it’s folly to assume that this means that sokka was dismissed and discarded as “average” while katara was put on a pedestal for being special. because while katara obviously was considered special, sokka is also clearly considered special by his family, merely in different ways. and if anything, sokka embodies the archetypal struggle of the so-called "gifted child” far more than katara does.

while sokka clearly believes himself to be disposable and intrinsically worthless, i don’t think that he was actively neglected by his family. even if katara was clearly marked by her bending as embodying the last hope of their tribe, that doesn’t mean that she was seen as more gifted than he was or was designated as her family’s obvious favorite. for example, the way hakoda talks about sokka (saying he trusted him with leading and protecting the tribe when he was thirteen, calling him a genius, and other such insanely high praises to heap on a child) shows that he clearly views his son as particularly exceptional and has never been shy about showing that. sokka is distinctly insecure around his father for assumptions he makes regarding hakoda's faith in his abilities and his insecurities when it comes to his perceived failure in not measuring up as a man, but from the second we meet hakoda, it's evident that these insecurities are entirely internal and completely unfounded, at least in terms of his father's perception of him. hakoda is nothing but incredibly proud of sokka, constantly emphasizing just how capable and brilliant he believes him to be. whether or not sokka is capable of internalizing it is another story, but it's clear that hakoda is not stingy in his praise and affection, not even a little bit.

moreover, while katara is clearly kanna’s favorite on an emotional level, she nonetheless affords sokka far more respect. she admonishes katara and tells her to do her chores, and notably, she also impresses the importance of “listening to her brother,” and backs up sokka’s decision to banish aang from the village. you can claim that sexism plays a factor in how sokka views his own supposed position of authority, but kanna is a woman who traveled the entire globe as a teenager because she wanted to escape patriarchal impositions dictating her life. she’s simply far too smart to treat sokka as any sort of authority within their village if she did not fully entrust him with that responsibility. she treats sokka almost like a peer, as if she is legitimately co-running the village with a fifteen year old boy.

katara is only a couple years younger than sokka at most, but her dynamic with kanna is very different. on one hand, kanna clearly sees more of herself in katara, can identify with her sense of adventure and rebellious spirit, but on the other hand, it means that she views katara as a child to be taken care of, who needs to be reminded to do her chores and bailed out when she gets herself into trouble. sokka doesn't want to be viewed as a child, and so he does everything in his power to position himself as kanna's equal rather than her grandson. he takes his duties and responsibilities very seriously, and is obedient to a fault whenever he is submitting to any authority he actually respects, especially his father and grandmother. to be honest, a lot of what katara considers coddling is probably just sokka never being bossed around by their grandmother because she never actually has to tell him to do his chores. because despite katara's claim that he simply faffs about "playing soldier," sokka's problem is actually that he takes himself too seriously for her liking. and with the exception of kanna saying "be nice to your sister," which is the kind of teasing a parent says to their child, she clearly respects sokka's position in the village. when katara tries to run away with aang, kanna takes sokka's side and forbids her from acting impulsively, but when sokka is the one who packs supplies and plans to save aang, kanna gives them both her blessing.

katara is the only person who takes umbrage with the notion of sokka running the village and telling her what to do all day. and those frustrations have likely accumulated up from a lifetime of being told to “do as her brother says” and “why can’t she be smarter and more responsible and levelheaded blah blah blah.” she clearly thinks that she’s punching up when she yells at or mocks him, which may seem crazy to anyone who understands that sokka’s entire identity and existence revolves around being katara’s protector, but katara doesn’t actually know this. in her mind sokka is merely the perfect child who has always represented this impossible standard of “genius.” and what's more, he's absolutely insufferable about it.

and to be clear, this isn’t to say that katara herself isn’t highly intelligent, capable, competent, and skilled. she’s not only an incredibly talented waterbender, but also clever, quick, witty, creative, resourceful, practical, mature, and thoughtful in other ways. at one point, toph calls her a genius (“a stinky, sweaty genius”). and she is, indeed, an extremely powerful and innovative waterbender, both due to her hard work, but also because she is genuinely brilliant. that said, she’s smart in the realistic way that a kid is smart; she works hard to be good at what she cares about (and she has an existentially devastating reason to care about being a good waterbender, mind you), and she’s also good at thinking on the fly when she needs to. however, unlike sokka, or even toph, her intellect may be impressive, but it isn’t astonishing. sokka’s mind functions completely anomalously. i wouldn't say he's unrealistically intelligent, because i do know some people in real life who are similarly adept at processing all kinds of different information with the ability to deftly apply it near-immediately, but it is certainly abnormal, both for real world standards and within his universe.

i normally bristle at this term and its applications (for multiple reasons), but since it is explicitly stated multiple times across the show, it is important to acknowledge that sokka is referred to as a genius multiple times, including by his father. katara is referred to as being a genius by toph for using her own sweat to waterbend (which, as hama points out an episode later, isn't even that clever because you can literally bend water from the air around you); conversely, sokka is referred to as a genius for helping to invent hot air balloons and for figuring out multiple escape routes from the world's most secure prison in less than a day. we don't know the exact timeframe under which katara trained with pakku and earned the title of master, but she clearly worked incredibly hard to earn that title, not only as a master, but as the greatest waterbender in the entire world. i assume it was any time between a few weeks and a little over a month in which zhao would organize a fleet to arrive at the north pole, which is, of course, extremely impressive in itself and a testament to her passion and determination. however, on the other hand, piandao claims that sokka has basically mastered the sword and is ready to make his own within less than a day. it's important to remember that katara is also brilliant in her own way, and possesses great skills that sokka lacks: not only bending, but also midwifery, and an ability to locate her own emotions and allow herself to be vulnerable with others, two skills which should never be looked down upon for their association with womanhood and femininity, and are also particularly impressive considering just how young katara is. she is brilliant in her own right, and in any other family, katara would easily have been "the smart one." and yet, sokka is simply in a league of his own.

so, yeah, he can stand to get thrown around and yelled at; everyone her entire childhood just kept on impressing how special and perfect and brilliant he is, he can handle it. she has no idea that he is depressed, depersonalizes, loathes himself, and thinks he’ll never be good enough, because he never actually communicates any of that to her. the closest he ever comes is admitting that he’s jealous due to not having bending abilities, and even that shocks katara, even though it’s such a small and obvious admission in the scheme of things. she has no idea what’s going on with him psychologically, how he views himself in relation to others, and specifically in relation to her, so she kind of just assumes he’s entitled because surely he must know how special he is and thus feels owed accolades by the world at every turn. he deserves to be humbled, and she is in fact righteous for humbling him.

when she makes fun of him for being stupid or miserable or paranoid or cynical, she thinks she’s owning him the way a righteous underdog fights against an oppressor. it's similar to how zuko wants to "put azula in her place." in katara and zuko's minds, they are both the valiant underdog siblings who had to fight and struggle against the siblings for whom everything came so easily. and in katara’s mind especially, she is always punching up, and she always has a moral justification in lashing out at anyone she pleases. so she couldn’t fathom that the reason sokka puts up with her antagonism without complaint isn’t because he’s so above her that he can simply ignore her taunts and gibes without a care (if that were the case, he wouldn't bother to taunt and gibe in return), but rather that he feels so detached from his own personhood that he would never think to actually explain his feelings to the person whom he has defined himself through since childhood. and if he did ever, somehow, communicate that to her, she’d have to reevaluate their whole entire lives and dynamic. but he never will communicate that to her, so she’ll never actually have to do that.

moreover, even though katara often does tease sokka and cast doubt upon his competence and abilities in low-stakes situations constantly, whenever they are actually facing a real problem that requires an immediate solution, katara seems to forget that sokka is supposedly an unhelpful, lazy, immature idiot because she immediately turns to him to fix all their issues. and then once that issue is resolved, katara goes back to finding his existence bothersome. sokka, on the other hand, falls into this role of problem solver instinctually, with the one exception that when they actually name him as the idea guy, he jokingly complains that it’s a lot of pressure to be one who is always expected to come up with solutions. and while he is joking during that conversation in “the drill,” he’s being honest to an extent, because his perfectionism and fear of failure is truly dire.

when katara is faced with failure, whether as the consequences for her own actions or otherwise, she simply gets back up and tries again. she can’t be knocked down, she can’t be deterred from achieving her goals. she has a very healthy approach to making mistakes, and while she doesn’t always learn from them in the longterm, she does always try her best to fix them and amend the situation as immediately as possible. katara is someone who is incredibly resilient and is constantly demonstrating the sheer magnitude of her inner strength, especially in particularly difficult moments. she has the ability to fail as many times as it takes without letting that failure affect her own self-esteem or desire to keep striving for what she believes in.

sokka, on the other hand, is very physically resilient (he gets beat up a lot), but his emotional resilience is actually quite pathetic. he has no tools for coping with failure. from even the slightest mistake, like not actually being able to open the doors at the fire temple with his makeshift explosives, to a catastrophic one, like his failed invasion, sokka immediately retreats inward. in “the boiling rock,” sokka demonstrates how his first ever real failure that rests squarely on his own shoulders is so devastating to him that he becomes totally irrational and suicidal in an attempt to “rectify” the situation. he does not know how to cope with failure, because he expects himself to be perfect at all times. and it’s not because sokka is overly proud, but rather that his guilt complex is so profound that he blames himself for every single thing that goes awry at all times, even when it isn’t actually his fault whatsoever. so that guilt and shame is magnified a thousand fold when sokka is actually culpable for those losses.

one of many ways in which it is evident that sokka is the older sibling is that he clearly lives with the mentality that if katara messes up or gets herself in danger due to her own impulsive inclinations, it’s always actually sokka’s fault for not being a better, more attentive brother. when she sets off the booby trap in the banned ship, sokka banishes aang from the village so as to protect katara from herself. when katara experiences the consequences of heedlessly blowing up a factory, sokka gets mad at her for her recklessness, but also immediately finds a way to help her fix this situation, because that’s his job, and in fact, his primary purpose on this earth. this is a dynamic sokka has probably internalized even before he was assigned the role of her sworn protector, because that’s just how being the eldest is.

sokka’s tendency to take responsibility for everyone else’s mistakes and his desire to shoulder everyone else’s pain at all times, coupled with his implicit belief that he, uniquely, cannot afford to mess up ever (if other people make mistakes it’s fine and he can help them fix it, but if he makes mistakes he no longer has a purpose on this planet, goodbye cruel world), definitely indicates that he was held to an incredibly high standard all his life. he expects himself to be able to handle a lot of responsibility with perfect ease because he always has. he isn’t used to making mistakes of any kind. if he puts his mind into learning a new skill, he always masters it within a couple of days, whatever that skill happens to be. unlike katara, sokka is used to things coming easily to him, and what he isn’t used to is failure.

katara and sokka are both exceptional, of course, but in very different ways, and for very different reasons. katara grew up with a lot of external pressure to excel as a waterbender, because she needs to embody her cultural legacy and prove that her mother’s sacrifice was not in vain. it’s an unfathomable burden to place on a child, and the rate at which she improves her waterbending once she is actually given the resources to hone her skills is a testament to her perseverance and untiring dedication. katara becomes the greatest waterbender in the world not because she is a natural prodigy (which is something she bristles at when aang does display prodigious skill), but because she is incredibly determined and no one can outmatch the strength of her heart and unshakable commitment when she is pursuing a goal. as pakku even says, raw talent isn’t everything, and katara’s abilities prove that despite not being “naturally gifted,” hard work and determination is far more important when it comes to excelling in any given domain.

however, if katara’s motivation to be excellent is externally imposed by the tragic circumstances of her life, sokka’s motivations are, at the very least, internally maintained. as aforementioned, i have no doubt that he received a lot of external validation and praise from the adults in his life as a child with a dazzling, brilliant mind. as has been established, sokka is constantly displaying an ability to synthesize new information at a staggering rate, which likely means that before katara had even discovered her ability to waterbend, sokka was probably being fawned over for the impressive rate at which he was picking up new skills as a baby. since pretty much everything (cerebral, at least) comes easily to sokka, i can only imagine that hakoda, who never hesitates to express to his children how proud he is of them, would constantly affirm sokka’s intellect. and by boasting that sokka takes after himself (hakoda also refers to himself as a genius, completely sincerely), he unwittingly plants the first seeds in fostering sokka’s belief that he must be exactly like his father in every way, and that any deviation from hakoda’s image would prove him unworthy. but he will never be the spitting image of hakoda the way that katara is "the spitting image of kanna" because sokka is already the spitting image of kya, if not – perish the thought – his own person entirely.

unlike katara, who spent her whole childhood trying to waterbend by herself with little success (beyond, of course, isolated instances demonstrating her sheer raw power when her bending was being influenced by her incredibly strong and passionate emotions), sokka always felt like he could handle the amount of responsibility he was given, because everything came easily to him. until the day that his life changed forever, and suddenly the stakes were no longer abstract, but tangible and personally devastating. sokka had never learned that it was okay to fail as a child because he never had a reason to, and then suddenly, he could not afford to fail under any circumstances. failure of any kind went from being a (purely hypothetical) blow to the ego, to being something that could directly endanger the lives of his loved ones. and so sokka decides that the only way to not be culpable for his potential failures is to be a martyr.

of course, there are instances in which sokka is proven to be inept, such as on kyoshi island or with piandao, wherein his humility and open-mindedness are put on display and sokka puts aside his own standards of perfection to learn from a master, but i don't think these instances qualify as failures. for one thing, sokka happens to master the forms he is being taught in less than a day, at an unprecedented rate, and thus these initially humiliating blindspots in his knowledge become victories as sokka absorbs new knowledge. sokka is always eager to learn, and willing to acknowledge his lack of expertise in area, humbling himself to learn from others any chance he gets. no, what i mean by "failure" as it relates to sokka's self-perception and ego is not a lack of knowledge, but an inability to protect another. to sokka, his existence is defined by his ability to provide and protect, and thus, a failure is, specifically, when someone gets hurt under his watch. that is what it means to not be able to afford to fail. he is not overly proud (if anything he is overly insecure), but he also understands that the stakes of failure – real failure – are tangible.

so when it comes to failure that carries grave consequences, he would rather be dead than fallible (or, responsible for not adequately protecting his loved ones), one million times over. and so every time someone makes a sacrifice for him, he feels as if he has failed on a fundamental level, because simply being exceptional is not enough, he must also bear the entire world’s suffering alone – as (in his mind) hakoda instructed him to when he left him behind to protect and provide for the village. otherwise he has failed in his promise to be needed, which is his raison d’être. sokka’s complex is very obviously not informed solely by his upbringing as a “gifted kid,” and in fact largely informed by the dehumanizing logic of war as it necessitates sacrifice, but his inability to accept his own fallibility as a product of his self-dehumanization is, at the very least, compounded by his debilitating perfectionism.

thus, katara and sokka's dynamic within their family isn’t “gifted kid and neglected kid,” but rather “two gifted kids who are gifted in different ways, one of those ways being valued more on a cultural level due to its scarcity as a byproduct of genocide.” while katara was put on a pedestal her entire life due to her ability to waterbend, it doesn’t mean that sokka wasn’t put on a pedestal in other ways. if anything, the reason hakoda entrusted a child with the burdens he did was specifically because he put his son on a pedestal. sokka assumes that hakoda didn't think he was capable enough to join his army, but that couldn't be further from the truth. hakoda trusted his thirteen year old son so much that he genuinely thought it best to leave him alone with this duty to defend his village and protect katara at all costs. he didn't leave a single man behind, not even the other teenage boys, because that's how much faith he had in a child to take his responsibilities seriously and perform them competently. and if that decision gave sokka one million different complexes and fucked him up for life, it wasn’t because he wasn’t valued for his abilities, it’s because he was overvalued and given too much responsibility at too young an age.

both he and katara struggled to live up to the expectations placed on them, forced to fulfill the roles of their parents instead of being allowed to exist as children. but crucially, katara sees the injustice in that, and clings to her childhood even as she strives for greatness, and sokka simply doesn't. he's long accepted that injustice, and in fact feels guilty that he cannot better live up to the impossible portrait of an idolized father, an idealized masculinity, an illusory model of the infallible, unshakeable warrior. despite all his achievements and natural giftedness, he nonetheless feels totally inadequate, deeply flawed, and ontologically worthless. perhaps, in a world beyond the pressures of war and its dehumanizing logic, sokka would have internalized the praise he was constantly receiving his whole life for his gifts. but since he was only ever a prodigy in ways that didn’t matter (within that colonized paradigm), he doesn’t actually care about how clever and brilliant and creative and talented and unique and special he is, because that would first require him to see himself as fully human, and he can’t even do that.

[silenceandpatiencepining]

I am dusting off my little blog here because TTPD has my mind absolutely reeling. I am really wondering if anyone else listened to this and had this feeling that the album confirmed everything that they were thinking was going on with her. I know we talk so much about reading her songs beneath the surface of muses or certain details used to craft a story, but to me, TTPD reads so strongly of her reckoning with her life in the industry. like, it's so much more than the relationships. it's the comp het, it's the religious trauma, it's the being exploited as a child star, it's deep wound of abandonment and neglect when she as a person got split off from her brand and both could not thrive, it's giving everything to this brand and career and fandom and that still never being enough. it's her codependency with the very people that exploit her. it's the fact that she is bigger than she ever imagined and none of it feels how she wanted. it's the simultaneous love and resentment she has towards her family, and relationships, and career, and yes, even her fans.

the rawness of this album, the unrefined feel, the summation poem talking about this as mania, the continuation of the cage imagery and themes of escaping to her mind/fantasy, the coping with criticism, numbing it all with alcohol, the willingness to burn it all down and disgrace her name because none of this is what she wants or at least not how she wants.

I have seen so many criticisms of the album and honestly, I understand where they are coming from, but I also think the things they criticize make the exact point of what this body of work is - something that exists for it's own sake to turn things back on the people that made her into what she is now. art created not to be acclaimed but because it demands to be expressed. it is an exorcism, an expulsion. it is something that erupted from her. and it's so meta because this fandom and the industry are voyeurs in an echo chamber so desperate to see what they want that they miss that this is about them. that is what makes it brilliant to me - it is self-indulgent and metaphorical, and complex, and so direct, but yet still masked just enough that people miss it. her entire life has become performance art. it is a play within a play. and I fear the audience has not caught on.

it feels like she is reclaiming it all. I feel like this could either be a hint at a new beginning or a signal that she has broken and this is the end. this felt like the tell-all memoir written in code that everyone else will finally understand when she really leaves this spotlight. it's the lucky one come to life. she is daydreaming about fucking it all and leaving this life behind so she can finally have some goddamn peace.

I love this album for it as art. it is so expressive. it is so heartbreaking. it's messy and nuanced, and I think it is going way the fuck over most people's heads, especially when you really dig into poetry being the theme and the specific works she references. it's only been a week and I am just starting to really dig in but talk about a fucking iceberg.

[mammonsrockstargf]

Your most recent Luci fic—the one w the priest—is really good!

Not sure if you take requests rn, but I would love it if you could write something similar. For example, a fic about Luci with an ex-Catholic lover? Or maybe a lover who used to be a nun?

(I’m ex-Catholic, now agnostic-leaning-towards-atheist & when I was Catholic, I was in postulancy—training to be a nun—but…things happened lol)

hi, anon, thank you! <3 i'm glad you liked it. and wow, that sounds like quite the religious journey! i hope that you find something that makes sense for you. <3 i'm both baptized and confirmed in the protestant church but i'm an atheist now. (obv not the same at all, but i somewhat getchu >:D)

here goes! i hope you like it. <33

warning: very heavy religious themes!

When you're first teleported to the Devildom, your reaction is to say a prayer. It falls off your lips so easily. Call it old habits, call it shock. You're even surprised by it yourself, staring wide-eyed at Diavolo as the prayer slips your lips.

“Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil.”

Everyone is shocked. The prayer in itself doesn't really have that much of an effect, your dear god cannot save you here (not that you expected him to), but a deep shiver runs down Lucifer's back. It's safe to say he hasn't heard that prayer in a while.

As if isn’t enough that you just prayed for protection against the devil, the prayer that mindlessly slipped out of you is the prayer to the archangel Michael. It strikes a deep cord within Lucifer. He doesn’t blame you, per se, he’s just very very shocked.

He takes it like a challenge, even if he isn’t aware of it. He’ll question your faith constantly. You aren’t really interested in getting into your religious beliefs with this stranger, not to mention demon, who practically kidnapped you. So you just kind of ignore his questions or avoid them.

“Were you born into religion or did you find it later in life?”

“What?” You look at Lucifer tiredly, trying to bottle your annoyance. That’s the fifth question he’s asked today, despite you expertly avoiding his last four.

You’re in his office, seated at a chair in front of his desk. He pulled you in, saying you couldn’t leave until you did the homework you’d been skillfully neglecting. Lovely education reform.

“Were you born into religion or did-“ Lucifer begins to repeat. He seems rather immune to your annoyance, seemingly thinking his pursuit of your personal information is justified. You’ve come to find that Lucifer generally thinks that anything he does is completely justified.

“I heard you.” you interrupt and send him a tight-lipped smile. “I just didn’t want to answer you.” you follow up. Lucifer tilts his head to the side, red eyes piercing through you.

“Why not?” he asks. You sigh. Does this man never run out of questions? “You’re never going to get my approval if you don’t let me get to know you.” he lazily states, flipping some of the worksheets on his desk.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You really don’t wanna get into it but you do need his approval if you want to help the brothers and Belphegor…

“I was born into it. My parents are very religious,” you state while staring at your homework, not daring to make eye contact. It feels as though his eyes are burning holes into you. A small hum leaves Lucifer. “Very interesting, indeed,” he says, voice sounding almost melodic. When you finally look up at him, he’s grinning, while twirling his pen with his fingers. He thinks he’s won this round. Stupid prick.

Months later, when you’re lying in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, you finally breach the subject. “I was in postulancy for a while,” you say, completely out of the blue. You’re laying on his chest with his arm around your waist, the other caressing your hair.

You feel his body tensing underneath you for a few seconds before he softens again. You look up at him but he’s staring at the ceiling. “I practically grew up in the church. Mass every Sunday, youth choir every Tuesday, summer camp once a year…”

You lay your head on his chest again, looking at the wall. Lucifer doesn’t say anything, but his fingers move from your hair to rub soothing patterns into your back, encouraging you to continue. “It seemed the natural next step for me to become a nun. My entire community was the church. My parents were so proud as well. Their status in the church meant everything to them.”

A lump grows in your throat. “Sorry, I haven’t talked about this in so long, I’m rambling-“ you whisper. Lucifer's hand moves from your back to your chin, turning your head towards him. “Don’t apologize, little lamb. I am very proud of you for opening up to me,” he says and your breath slightly hitches. He smiles fondly at you and strokes your cheek. His smile then fades slowly. “It occurs to me that I haven’t been fair to you. I’m sorry that I was so insensitive when we met.”

You huff. “You were a dick,” Lucifer glares at you and pinches your cheek. “Now, now. I’ve admitted my faults, let’s not delve into it,” he says and you wince, gripping his hand and intertwining your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, old man, I’ll consider if you deserve my forgiveness,” you say and settle your head on his chest again. A small chuckle vibrates through Lucifer before a comfortable silence falls over you.

“What made you change your mind? Why aren’t you a nun, my little lamb?” he asks after a while. You think for a while, looking at your intertwined hands. His thumb presses small circles into the back of your hand.

“It just didn’t feel right, I guess,” you mumble. Lucifer nods. “Well, I, for one, am glad you didn’t go through with it. It would all be terribly complicated if you were already in a relationship with my Father.”

You let out a surprised laughter and push yourself up so your face is directly over his. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs tracing patterns into your bare skin, where your shirt has ridden up. “What a weird thing to say,” you giggle and Lucifer's brows furrow. “Well, it’s true-“ he begins, but your lips press to his before he can continue his weird family rambles. It’s a chaste kiss and you quickly press another to the corner of his lips and then one to his cheek and jaw.

After that, Lucifer is very gentle with you on the subject. He never prods or questions and only talks about it if you start the conversation. He'll even subtly change the topic if someone else brings it up. It's like a little secret between the two of you when he sends you confidential glances, making your heart flutter.

You're in a beautiful meadow. The sky is purple and you're wearing a heavy rosary with white beads around your neck. A pack of doves fly above you, circling like vultures. They begin diving for you, pecking you with their beaks, pulling at your skin and hair. You try to shield yourself with your arms, but it's useless against the many doves, plunging down. Their shrieks fill your ears and you cover your ears, but it's useless, the sound ringing in your head. You try to run, but the rosary has grown in size, pulling you down towards the ground. 

You wake with a fright, covered in sweat. Your breathing is heavy as you gasp for air. You put your face in your hands and run them through your hair. Your heart is beating harshly against your ribcage. Lucifer. You need to go to Lucifer. 

You stagger towards his room, weakly knocking on his door. "Come in," he sounds from the other side. You brace yourself against the door. "Lucy," you weakly say and the door immediately opens causing you to practically fall into him. 

In a flash, you're in his lap on his couch. He worriedly grabs your face and examines you. "What's wrong, my love?" he asks and you wrap your arms around him, sinking your face into the crook of his neck. "Nightmare," you mumble. You feel Lucifer physically relaxing underneath you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. You feel your heartbeat slowing, as you're finally able to relax again.

"Wanna tell me about it?" he asks and you explain your dream, voice muffled against his skin. His hand finds your collarbone and he pushes you, just far enough so he can press his forehead against your own. You pout and furrow your brows. "It was so real, I swear I can still feel their beaks on my skin." 

"Where do you feel it?" Lucifer asks and you shrug. "Everywhere..." His gaze is soft as he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips. "You feel them here?" he asks, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His lips trail up your arm. "Here?" he asks, eyes still on you. You nod and he presses a kiss to your arm. "Your shoulder as well?"

"Yes," Another kiss is pressed into your shoulder, then your collar bone, your neck, your jaw, your cheeks, your nose. You let out a giggle and he presses a last kiss to your forehead. "Did I miss anywhere?" he asks and you nod. His eyebrows raise. "Really? Where?" he ponders and you bring his thumb to your lips. "Here," you say and this time you're the one pressing a small kiss to his fingertip. 

"Oh," Lucifers says, eyes following your every move. He takes a sharp breath and pulls on your bottom lip. "We can't have that, now can we?" he says and you shake your head. He leans and kisses you and you kiss him back slowly. 

"Thank you, Lucy," 

"I'll always be here, my love,"

a/n: aaa thank you for reading, guys, i hope you liked this one!! you can find my other stuff here. <333

[silkkorchid]

What went down in TWST rp in a week-

4/20 - 4/26

This week is dedicated to @the-lord-of-malevolence soon departure from roleplaying. Take care!

-

NRC Book Club has their birthday this week! A bunch of congratulations has been given!

There is a wedding. BETWEEN THE NRC PROPHET AND THE BOOK CLUB’S BROTHER!?

NRC Prophet is trying to adopt Rolly, Ruggie’s daughter. And he isn’t considering a certain parent involvement.

NRC Pride club light replace the NRC Therapist with this advice they are giving.

NRC Pride club is sponsoring the prom that is happening in NRC.

NRC host club finally making normal food for once?!

NRC garden club mod 🌺 is confirm to be the richest one in that club due to his parents owning the most popular opera in Queendom of Roses.

NRC Clubs are planning to make an otome game with them in it.

Who brought weapons to NRC?

Crowley got 3 children that he neglects like the students in NRC

Professor Crewel is gonna use the weekly update to keep tabs on his students. ALSO HOW MANY DO YOU PROPLE KNOW THERE IS AN ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE!?

Professor Crewel loosing his shit, congrats.

Lucius holding a poll to try to start a rebellion towards Crowley in order for him to leave his office…

Lucius dropped the f bomb 27 times. Don’t tell professor Trein about it-

Lucius still being a savage towards everyone. + calling Sebek a Karen

Trey broke the 4th wall

Hungry Heartslabyul students are out for blood due to someone rearranging the kitchen, which made Trey unable to cook or bake.

It’s now confirm from Deuce, he got a plushie addiction of chickens.

Cater is now slapping cheese on people.

Rory needs to calm down with the confetti canons. That’s gonna be a pain to clean up…

Cat!Rolly and Lucius are currently doing a cat fight with each other…

Scar just got transported into Savannaclaw… and knock out the shit of Leona and Malleus. Plus their magic pens broke… THANKS RUGGIE FOR THE UPDATE!

Shit went down in Savanaclas that I will not say.

Leona is asking Che’nya what would their names be IF they get married.

Ruggie is having a hard time this week…

Ruggie and Silver did a platonic kiss. according to Ruggie. I’m so ded aren’t i?

Ruggie is gonna overblot sooner or later thanks to the blot drop.

Leona questioning if Silver and Ruggie are in a relationship. THE ANSWER IS NO

Azul being attacked and his mom is asking for no violence.

Azul is gonna be so grounded when he gets back home for the break. (Mrs. Ashengrotto is not happy 😃)

Epel is gonna be dead from Vil due to him making so much (failed attempt of )cornbread. Plus Epel consuming so much carbs.

Idia is giving pipe bombs and grenades.? SOMEBODY KNOCK OUT IDIA THIS INSTANT!

Another Vil has joined the battle-

Rook is dying from laughter thanks to Che’nya.

Also Idia ate an alive grenade…

It’s now confirm. Idia is a whale in genshin. (it was obvious but hey it’s confirm now)

Idia now has someone that loves him??? PLUS IDIA GOT KNOCKED OUT FROM BEING KISSED

Idia has been hit by EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!

Ah yes, some of Sebek embarrassing childhood stories is being told by Alce due to Yuu request.

Sebek just drop someone on their face the moment they gave back his jacket.

Sebek tried to drown Donnie for no apparent reasons.?

Silver’s magic pen went bye bye 👋 (by kaboom)

Sebek loosing his shit

Malleus is at it with the accidental flirting.

General Lilia was a dumb kid back then!

The boys future children overblotted and other stuff.

Rollo regrets opening his inbox after the NRC Prophet said he gonna die in 36 years + 8 months.

The Rosehearts family is in shambles.

AR for Che’nya is about to punch Leona in the face soon-

Che’nya is still being the menace to NRC

blind0raven is in trouble for something.

@blind0raven being bullied by Che’nya for their love to Deuce

@quartztwst getting a trophy for being a huge simp

[alisonfelixwrites]

the deal - part 3/3 (*) [harry styles au]

//

part one, part two

summary: in which harry and claire continue to fight for custody of atlas while also attempting to take steps in their own relationship

word count: 12,756

content warning: custody battle! heavy topics of child neglect, physical/emotional abuse, mentions of drug use, etc. smut!!

___________________________________________

“Claire?” Harry softly asked, waiting outside the door she locked herself into.

His eyes softly closed, forehead resting against the wood as he heard retching and vomiting from the other side. Harry wore a dress shirt and slacks, dressing up for court even if he wasn’t being heard or if the judge would hardly look at him.

But he wanted to be here for Claire, even if she insisted she was fine coming on her own.

Seeing her rush into the restrooms before the hearing even started, was enough proof to Harry that she was most definitely not fine.

“Babe?” He checked again, breathing out the word in defeat as there was silence from the other end. He heard her slightly coughing and then he heard the flushing of the toilet before Claire unlocked the door, wiping her eyes and straightening out her blouse.

Her eyes were rimmed red and the bags underneath them seemed to have darkened a shade. She fixed the clip in her hair while sniffling, “Sorry.” She muttered, walking past Harry and towards the sinks to wash her hands and rinse her mouth a bit. 

Harry looked at her through the mirror as he slipped a gentle hand to her lower back, “‘S okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

Even Atlas and Finn had noticed this morning, that something was up. Tensions in the house were at an all time high any time Claire was supposed to head to court and face Evan. It wasn’t the first time, but him and his lawyer always found ways to postpone or buy themselves time.

And in the meantime, Claire and Evan had to stick to what the court told them - which was that Atlas spent at least six hours at his father’s house every other Saturday. Claire always dreaded dropping him off but insisted walking him up to the door. Evan never looked good. He always had a sick, smug smile on his lips. He wasn’t doing this for Atlas, he was just doing it to get a rise out of her.

She remembered crying in Harry’s car the last time because once Claire had hugged Atlas goodbye and he went inside, Evan said to her that he’d do everything he could to stay in control of her life before slamming the door.

After a good cry, it was time to convince Harry to not go knocking on his door and then punch his teeth out. But Harry’s hands had tightly gripped the steering wheel as they drove home in silence, and both him and Claire weren’t themselves in those six hours.

Evenings were then spent with Atlas cuddling up to both of them, even Finn. He regressed to being a little baby on those days, sucking his thumb and needing a soft scalp massage before he requested for Harry to carry him to bed and then Harry and Claire both tucked him in. 

He usually had nightmares those nights, but not as bad as the nights before he was supposed to be at Evan’s. Atlas never said much about the time spent at his father’s house, and Claire and Harry didn’t pry.

And so months went on, and here she was again. With fresh hope that the judge would make a conscious decision to cut ties between Atlas and his father. That they could finally see the effect it had on Atlas and that Evan didn’t give a single fuck about his son.

“I love you.” Harry murmured from behind her, finally pulling Claire into his chest and she allowed him. Claire exhaled into his neck, pinching her eyes shut to keep more tears from falling out. Harry’s arms felt like a warm blanket surrounding her, and she was catapulted into memories of comfort and warmth as she leaned against him. And she let herself lean against him - which was almost the biggest challenge of all.

“I love y-you too.” She croaked out, sniffling. Harry kissed her temple, “And I’m so proud of you. Atlas will remember this forever, the way you fought for him. I promise.”

Claire quickly nodded, “Yeah.” She agreed, trying to remember what she was doing this for. Or who she was doing this for. Future Atlas. To give him peace. To know she did everything in her power to make him happy and give him a brighter future.

“We have to go in now,” Harry’s heart sank a bit as he pulled Claire back a bit and cupped her cheeks, “sorry.” He murmured. Claire swallowed and nodded, “Okay. Do you have gum?”

“Yeah.” He patted his pockets and pulled out a packet of gum, “Here. Your breath doesn’t smell, by the way.” He reassured her in a small joke. Claire huffed out a humourless chuckle and popped the gum in her mouth. Lacing their fingers together, Harry and Claire exited the ladies rooms to head to where they were supposed to be.

“There you are.” Timothy - their lawyer - exhaled a breath of relief. He was the new lawyer Claire had been working with ever since she started dating Harry. She only admitted it to herself with pink cheeks, but Timothy was the kind of lawyer she was unable to afford with her own money. 

Harry didn’t mind spending his own money on help for Claire or Atlas. They were his family, and no length was too far for him to go to, to ensure their safety and happiness. Besides, he had more money than he could spend after working full-time after Astrid’s departure and hardly having a social life.

Claire’s stubbornness made her reluctant to always accept Harry’s financial help, but it was for the greater good.

“Sorry.” Claire cleared her throat, “I wasn’t feeling too well.”

“Nervous?” Timothy checked and Claire nodded, holding onto Harry’s hand who gave her a gentle squeeze, “Mhm.”

Timothy rested a hand on her shoulder, “We’re doing good, Claire. We have accusations for a lot of things, and Evan is unable to give a decent response to all of them.” He tried to soothe her.

Claire just swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah.” She sighed.

The next twenty minutes were pure hell for Claire once more. She went into the courtroom, feeling Harry’s presence behind her as the judge stared at both her and Evan, and their lawyers.

Claire felt fidgety the entire time, but trusted Timothy, who did a splendid job. Of course, Evan and his lawyer played it just as dirty and kept bringing up Claire’s past in drug use and how she was really only back on track ever since being with Harry. How she had to split her attention between Atlas and Finn and how that caused her to not be fully there for their son.

Claire saw red at that and jumped up her feet, briskly turning towards Evan and firing at him, asking him if he even knew Atlas’ birthday.

The judges’ brows had raised high when Evan shamefully spoke out the wrong date.

But, in true Evan-fashion, he did buy himself more time to get his life on track.

A social inquiry.

His lawyer suggested it and the judge blindly agreed. Tears prickled in Claire’s eyes when she realized what it meant. More months of this. More court dates, more conversations, a social worker coming to their house to talk to her, Harry and Atlas.

Just to verify what everyone actually already knew.

Claire felt defeated when Harry drove them home, his hand on her thigh and the music turned down.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He murmured once the engine was turned off and they were in the driveway of the house. Claire turned her head to face him, offering him a faint smile as she nodded, “I know. Thank you.”

Harry felt a bit stupid, unsure of what the right thing to say was. There weren’t really any good things to say to a mother in this position. And Claire was such a damn good mother, she didn’t deserve any of this.

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “I love you.” He repeated.

Claire nodded again as her bottom lip wobbled, “I love you too, Harry.”

They stayed in silence in the car for a bit until heading inside. The boys were at school and they had a few hours to themselves. Claire did her usual routine after going to court, changing into gym clothes to go on a long run. Harry on the other hand, threw himself into work. 

He sat at his desk, drawing and erasing and drawing and erasing as he got a job to design a new office building for a bank.

He was hunched over, a concentrated frown on his face when Claire walked back in, sweat pearling at her hairline and her eyes still hollow and tired. She panted out after her run, heading into the kitchen for water and to do some stretching.

Harry leaned against the doorpost, watching her as she chugged down water and used the back of her hand to wipe her forehead. She felt his presence behind her and turned around, leaning against the countertop, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Harry exhaled, “Do you - uh… do you want to shower together? Before the boys get home?”

Claire’s stomach dropped a bit. She knew the tone of his voice and she knew what he meant. Harry meant to say they weren’t themselves right now and needed some comfort and closeness within each other to be there for the boys when they came home in a bit. And he was right.

Claire nodded, “That sounds good. Are you finishing up or can we go now?”

“Now is good.” Harry smiled. Him and Claire headed up to their bathroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before hopping into the cabin. Harry took the time in soothing Claire. He washed her hair and soaped her in, hugging her close to his chest and she allowed him to wrap her up and comfort her. 

She pushed up her toes to kiss him deeply, expressing her gratitude for his endless patience without using words. Because she didn’t know how. She didn’t know what to say to explain how he made her feel, or what he did for her. 

“Claire - wait.” Harry breathed when her hand closed around his semi hard length, gently pumping up and down. She moaned against his lips, “No, let me… i want to.” She reassured him. Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly and he leaned back against the tiled wall, swallowing, “I’m not trying to be a dick.” He defended his erection and Claire nodded in understanding. Harry swallowed again, “‘S just because I’m close to you.”

“I know. It’s okay.” She smiled slightly. Harry didn’t want to ruin the moment. He couldn’t help getting hard when he saw Claire naked with wet drops running down her smooth skin. He knew this wasn’t really the time or place and he hadn’t expected her to act upon it, but she did and she wanted to.

Harry usually got hard whenever they showered together. It didn’t mean at all that it always turned to this. His head thudded back with a small whimper when Claire sunk down to her knees, water cascading down her back as she took him in her mouth. Harry’s hands balled into fists as he panted out, “Shit - babe…” His hand involuntary found the back of her neck, giving a thankful squeeze when she sucked him off.

Claire took him deep, her tongue salaciously running over his shaft and feeling the veins pulsing against her hollowed-out cheeks. She hummed around him, revelling in the feeling of his heavy cock pushing in her throat as she fought her gag-reflex to deepthroat him. Harry whined out, taking a fistful of her hair as he arched slightly and pushed his hips forward to thrust into her mouth.

“Fuck,” He gasped, “fuck - fuck. C’mere - stop, c’mere.” He yanked her hair, making Claire yelp slightly as she popped off of him suddenly. She coughed slightly as Harry helped her up, supporting Claire who felt woozy on her legs.

“Can I?” Harry spoke against her lips, pushing her against the opposite wall while grabbing her thighs to lift her up. Claire hardly had time to nod as her legs locked around his hips and Harry slipped inside of her. He grunted, forehead dropping to her shoulder as he pressed his lips into her collarbone and Claire moaned at the feeling of him inside of her.

Her hand tightly grabbed his wet hair as Harry fucked into her. Slow yet sharp and deep. She loved it when he took her like this - affectionate and loving yet mindblowingly good. They were engulfed by steam, and Claire admired the bulging of Harry’s biceps as he seemingly effortlessly kept her lifted up.

“So good.” Claire squeaked when his tip brushed her g-spot and the coil in her tummy tightened. She brushed his hair away and they breathily kissed as Harry sped up a bit, “Please - cum…” He groaned, “I need you to cum.”

Claire nodded as she bucked her hips back, “Uh-h-huh, almost there.” She panted. Only a minute later, both were panting and spent. Harry’s softening cock pulsed between her walls as he kept her up for a bit until gently letting her down. He slipped out of her and Claire held his arms for a bit of balance before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and deeply kissed him.

“Love of my life.” She smiled against his lips and Harry chuckled, immediately feeling how much lighter the mood had become. Sex was important to them to feel close to one another. They had to pick their moments, which is why something practical - like showering or cooking - could turn into fucking in no time.

The found ways, knowing how detrimental it was to their relationship to feel the physical comfort of the other. Claire hummed as they kissed and Harry nuzzled his nose with hers while running his hands up and down her naked back, “Are you ovulating?” He whispered.

Claire bit her lip and shook her head, “No - uh… this was just for fun.”

“Right.” Harry chuckled, giving her ass a small pinch, “well, it was definitely fun.”

Four months now they had been trying. Actively. Not like before, not leaving it up to the universe, but really tracking her period and trying. Every month she took a pregnancy test and so far - every month it came back negative.

It was fine, for now. Their spirits weren’t broken down. So much was happening with Atlas and Evan too, that Claire didn’t necessarily mind. She somehow felt like she wouldn’t be able to feel joyous about a pregnancy with everything looming over her head.

And Claire didn’t know this, but it was also the reason Harry hadn’t proposed yet.

When he asked her to marry him, he wanted it to be just them. Him, Claire, Finn and Atlas. No Evan.

He soothed himself with the idea that they had time. They had so much fucking time to spend with one another. A lifetime. And perhaps it was nicer if the boys were a bit older, so they could really be a part of the wedding and give their blessing.

“My sweet,” Harry murmured with a smile on his lips, “I adore you.”

Claire giggled and the sound made Harry’s heart skip ten beats. She kissed his lips once more, “I adore you more. Just not your cum running down my leg. Scoot over a bit, I need the stream.” And playful Claire was back. Harry threw his head back in a laugh when she was back to her witty, sarcastic self.

He loved her like that. She was most herself like that. They waddled back a few steps until the water took care of Harry’s orgasm and then exited the shower.

“Wanna pick up the boys together?” Harry suggested. Claire puckered her lips, “You can go, I’ll get started on dinner. That way I won’t have to be in the kitchen too much tonight.”

Harry fought the amused smile on his lips and exhaled a chuckling breath, “Let’s do it the other way around. You pick them up, I’ll cook.”

“Hey, my cooking is not that bad.” 

“No, but mine is better.” Harry stuck out his tongue and Claire playfully swatted his chest, “Ass. I’ll see you in a bit.” She pushed up her toes for a quick kiss. Her hair was wet and laying down her back as she wore jeans and a hoodie. Snatching Harry’s keys off of the table, she unlocked the Tesla to pick up Finn and Atlas.

In the presence of both boys, Claire quickly forgot all about what today had been so far. Atlas and Finn were laughing and joking in the backseat, cracking Claire up at what they all said. They brought out the best in each other and it was incredible to see.

Much like Harry and Claire’s dynamic, Finn tamed Atlas a bit while Atlas brought out Finn’s - hidden - wild side. Finn was the calm and Atlas was the storm. Much like Harry being the calm and Claire being the storm.

“Claire bear, can you help me with my shoes?” Finn lisped a little and Claire fought the rolling of her eyes. She could hear Harry laughing from the kitchen and Claire crouched down to undo his laces, “Finnigan, I love it when you call me Claire bear except that I don’t.” She chuckled. Finn frowned in confusion and Claire’s heart melted at his expression, so she just quickly kissed his forehead, “Never mind. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”

Claire melted more. Finn was experimenting with different nicknames for her. Both Harry and Claire had made it clear to him that he was in no way obligated to call her mum. But Finn wanted to. Besides that, Harry also taught him the horrendous Claire bear nickname and she always silently gagged upon hearing it.

Harry thought it was absolutely hilarious.

“That’s my reward for blowing you in the shower?” She hushed the whisper while being with Harry in the kitchen, the boys in the living room. Harry stirred the food and bit his lip to fight his beaming grin. Cocking up an eyebrow, he dipped his head for a chaste kiss, “Your reward was an orgasm, you little brat.”

Claire childishly stuck out her tongue and went through the boys’ backpacks of the day and clearing out their lunchboxes.

Yet Claire dreaded the evening. She wanted to be transparent with Atlas about today and about his father, so while Harry tucked Finn in later that night, she sat on Atlas’ bed.

He was cuddled into his side as they read a book together and eventually Claire closed it, “Can I talk to you?” She ran her fingers through his shaggy blonde hair - which was darkening just a little bit as he aged.

Atlas looked up to her and nodded, “Yes.” Somehow by the tone of her voice and the way she asked him, he sensed what the topic would be.

Claire shifted a bit, nibbling her lip, “I saw your daddy today.”

Atlas’ expression dropped a bit and Claire continued, “You know I see him sometimes, right? In that big building? With the judge?”

“Who’s the judge again?”

“The judge is a very important person who makes very important decisions. Sometimes your daddy and I have to go see the judge. The judge asks us how you are and if you’re happy with mum and happy with dad.” Claire tried to explain.

Atlas nodded slowly, “And what do you say?”

“I tell her you’re happy here.” She shrugged before continuing to play with his hair, “Are you? Happy?”

“Yes.” Atlas smiled, cuddling further into Claire - who already got tears in her eyes. She swallowed thickly, “With me and Finn and daddy Harry?”

“Yes!” Atlas spoke with more enthusiasm and Claire sniffled once before cupping his cheek, “That’s all I want, bubby. You know I’d do everything to make you happy, right? I love you so much. More than anything or anyone.”

Atlas studied her face for a bit, “More than daddy Harry?”

“More than daddy Harry.” Claire nodded without missing a beat. Atlas didn’t seem particularly relieved or alarmed at her answer, but just nodded. Claire took a breath, “And then the judge asks the same question to your daddy. She asks daddy if you’re happy there.”

“And what does he say?” Atlas murmured. Claire kept the wobbling of her lip under control, “Daddy says you’re happy there.”

Atlas frowned, “I’m not.”

“I know.” She whispered. Atlas pressed his lips together, “How long do I still have to go?”

“As long as the judge tells us.” Claire explained and Atlas tilted his head to the side, “But how? I don’t know this juds.”

“Judge.” Claire softly corrected him and Atlas exhaled a breath, “Judge.” He tried to repeat, but it was a difficult word for him to pronounce. Claire’s heart shattered when she was once more reminded of Atlas’ young age. He was supposed to be young and free and careless. But he wasn’t. Instead, he knew his mum and dad were fighting and there were two groups of people who claimed to want the best for him. He knew of the judge. He was too young for this. He had seen too much, heard too much.

Atlas looked at her through big eyes, “How long do I still have to go, mummy?” He repeated in a watery voice, “Why can’t I just stay here with you and daddy Harry and Finn?” He clung to her and Claire hastily wiped her tears, “I know, bub. I know. I love you so much.” She repeated.

“I love you.” Atlas murmured, “I don’t want to go anymore. I don’t like it.”

“I know.” Claire’s voice cracked and she blinked rapidly to keep from crying too much. Pulling Atlas into her chest, her face scrunched up as she silently cried, out of sight for him. “You understand that I’m trying?” She whispered, “Me and daddy Harry are trying so hard for you, to keep you here and safe and happy. With us.”

“I understand.” Atlas nodded.

“Good boy.” Claire kissed the top of his head. She sniffled a few times before taking a breath, “So today daddy and I had to go back to see the judge. And the judge said she’s going to send someone here.”

Atlas didn’t respond, and Claire could imagine him frowning in confusion. She closed her eyes, “Someone is going to come here. A nice person, who just wants to talk to you a little bit. I won’t be there for that.” She gently explained, “They’ll want to sit with you and they’ll ask you a few questions. And you can tell them whatever you want, okay? There’s no need to be scared or to be nervous. They just want to know how you’re doing.”

It was silent for a moment before Atlas spoke, “When?”

“I don’t know yet.” Claire admitted, “It might be a while. Do you have any questions?”

Atlas flicked his eyes up, and Claire saw a range of emotions in them. “Can I sleep in the big bed tonight?” 

Claire raised her brows and clearly hesitated, “Y-You want to sleep in the big bed?” She clarified. Atlas quickly nodded, “Mhm. For when I have a nightmare.”

“Bub.” She whispered, rocking him back and forth a little, “But you’re a big boy, aren’t you? Big boys sleep in their own beds.” She tried but Atlas whined a bit and crawled closer into her. Claire felt a fresh wave of tears running down her cheeks and she cleared her throat, “Can you wait just a minute? I’m going to have a chat with daddy Harry first.” She whispered.

Atlas just nodded and cuddled his stuffed animal as Claire quickly turned around and rushed out of the room. She was barely in the hallway when she pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling the deep sob and the feeling of nausea. She could throw up all over again when imagined the fear running through her little boy.

Claire’s legs could hardly keep her up and she slid down the wall next to Atlas’ closed door. Just thinking of him in his bed, clutching his stuffed animal that Harry gave him because he craved comfort so much.

“Hey,” Harry whispered, worry apparent on his face when he hurried over to where Claire was. He just tucked Finn and closed his door after reading him a bedtime story. Harry’s hands cupped Claire’s cheeks, “Babe - what’s wrong?” He urgently whispered, attempting not to alert their boys.

“A-Atlas.” Claire sobbed, feeling the burning in her chest, “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Oh - shh.” Harry crooned, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He slipped an arm around Claire’s waist and used his might to pull her up to a standing position. She clung to him and Harry smoothed his hand over her hair, “‘S okay, baby.” He shushed softly.

Claire sniffled, “He asked to sleep in our bed.”

“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire nodded, “Mhm. It’s so bad, Harry.”

He stroked her hair again, “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Claire whimpered, “Not yet. W-Wanted to talk to you first.”

Harry exhaled, “Babe, if he’s begging to sleep with us… we should let him, right?”

“Mhm. I think so too. But I didn’t want to decide without you.”

Harry nodded, “It’s okay. I’ll go carry him to our bed.”

“Okay.” Claire nodded, wiping her eyes, “I’m gonna just freshen up a bit, don’t want Atlas to see me like this.” 

Harry cupped her cheeks and kissed her nose, “Alright. You go ahead, I’ll be right there with him.”

Claire nodded and they parted ways as Harry slowly opened up Atlas’ bedroom door. He sat in his bed like a small boy, clutching his stuffed giraffe that Harry gifted him. The sight was heartbreaking. Harry was slow as he walked up to him, “Hey, bubby. Mum says you’d like to sleep in our bed tonight?”

“Yeah.” Atlas nodded and Harry offered him a small smile, “Okay. Want me to carry you?”

Atlas just lifted up an arm, a silent invitation for Harry to break his back and pick up the seven year-old. Atlas was way too big to be picked up like this, but Harry humored him. He patted his back as he turned down the lights in Atlas’ room and carried him through the hall. He made a quick stop at Finn’s door - not wanting him to feel left out.

Finn wasn’t asleep yet and blinked his eyes open as Harry stood in the doorway, “Hi, bud. Sleepover tonight?” He questioned. Finn frowned, “But it’s not a Friday or Saturday.”

“I know.” Harry nodded, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But Atlas is sleeping in the big bed tonight.”

Atlas and Finn shared a look, and Finn nodded, grabbing his own baby blanket before he followed behind Harry and Atlas. Harry was gentle when he laid Atlas down - mostly on Claire’s side. He immediately sunk into the pillow she usually rested on and Finn was exceptionally gentle too. 

“They’re both in bed.” Harry murmured as he joined Claire in the bathroom. She was blowing her nose and doing some skincare, nodding, “Finn too?”

“Mhm.” Harry grabbed his toothbrush while looking at Claire in the mirror. She was lost in thought and he decided to leave it at that for tonight.

The family of four all fell asleep in the same bed, with Harry and Claire each cuddling up to their sons to provide them the comfort they apparently craved. 

***

Once May rolled in, Claire eventually got the letter. Her heart slammed in her throat when she recognized the letters from court, and she exhaled a slight sigh of relief when it turned out to just be her invitation to go talk to the social worker in regards to the social inquiry.

Claire called immediately to lock in an appointment. The social worker turned out to be a woman named Nancy. She sounded friendly and warm on the phone, immediately soothing Claire’s worries a little bit. Nancy informed her that in that first talk, it was supposed to be just Claire. She felt a bit deflated that she wasn’t allowed to bring Harry - but also understood.

This social inquiry was mostly between her and Evan, surrounding Atlas. They were his biological parents. Harry was a big part of his life, and Nancy assured Claire that she’d eventually also include Harry and talk to him, as she would with Otis and perhaps Finn if he wanted to.

Claire felt relieved that she could go in a few days later, and she gave herself a peptalk in the mirror before driving down to the courthouse to meet with Nancy.

Claire had to admit she was between jobs and had a very free schedule. Ever since being with Harry, she gave up her Burger King-job and did nothing for a while but adapt to their new reality. With the absence of rent and the help of Harry, there were no financial worries for the first time in her life.

Yet Claire grew bored and was on the lookout for something. Maybe something administrative, she wasn’t sure yet. She helped Harry sometimes with his accounting and answered his emails or his calls from time to time. Sometimes she wondered how she did it all those years, being a single parent to Atlas and doing a fulltime job and the household. 

Sometimes her days were simply filled doing laundry, going grocery shopping and cleaning the house. Until Evan called her a gold digger and it stung. And she hoped it wouldn’t be used against her in court.

“Ms. Carter?” A woman smiled at her as Claire sat waiting in one of the chairs. She quickly got up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before offering her hand, “Yes, I’m Claire.” She breathed.

“Nancy.” The woman nodded, “Nice to meet you. Not too much traffic coming here?” They walked the long hallways together and Claire shook her head, “No, it was okay.”

Nancy smiled, “It’s just through here. You can sit wherever you’d like.”

Claire glanced around the room, which was clearly decorated for conversations with children. It had a small, low table in the corner with kid’s chairs, a ton of toys and stuffed animals and lots of children’s books.

“This is our kid’s space.” Nancy explained, “When we talk to kids, it’s in this room. I booked it for our conversation too because it was the only available room.”

Claire slowly nodded, “I see.” Her lips then curled up into a small smile, “Atlas has this book too.” She pointed to one.

“Really?” Nancy smiled, “It’s usually a big hit.”

“Mhm. He really likes it.” She then shrugged off her coat and took a seat in one of the chairs, fiddling with her fingers.

“Are you nervous?” Nancy checked, a friendly smile on her face. Claire exhaled, “Honestly, yes. A little bit. It’s all quite new and I’m not sure what to expect.”

“That’s understandable.” Nancy nodded, “So I’m a social worker, and I work for the family justice court.” She began, “Sometimes the judge asks us to do a social inquiry in certain cases, when it’s too difficult to make a decision and the judge isn’t sure what’s left or right anymore. That’s where we come in. We take a few steps with both mum and dad, and I’d also like to see Atlas once or twice. We contact the school and such to get a broad view on who Atlas is as a child, mostly in relation to his parents, so that’s you and Evan. And the custody arrangement.”

Claire’s chest clenched a bit and she swallowed before nodding, “So… you decide what happens to Atlas then?”

“I don’t.” Nancy shook her head, “I take these steps and I basically make the puzzle surrounding Atlas. I talk to him and also pull information from literature and investigation, knowing what works best for children his age and what their needs are. Then I write a report to the judge, but the final decision is always with the judge.”

“Right.” Claire slowly nodded.

Nancy shot her a smile, “I’d also like to do a house visit, just to see what Atlas’ environment is. I do these same steps with dad.” She explained.

“Okay.” Claire breathed and Nancy nodded, “So basically what I’ll do with you - and the father - is that we… talk. Mostly about Atlas and how we can get out of the current rut and move forward towards something that best fits him.”

“That’s all I want.” Claire swallowed, nodding, “It’s been so…” She exhaled, “it’s been such a nightmare.” She already felt the lump in her throat and swallowed thickly, “Sorry, I really don’t mean to cry after only a minute.”

“That’s okay.” Nancy encouraged her, “I understand that this is an emotional time. You try to do what’s best for your little boy, I’m sure.”

Claire nodded fiercely, “I-I do. I definitely do.”

“Are you okay with us starting from the beginning? How did you and Evan meet, how long were you together and such?”

And so Claire took a breath and told her story. Not too many details, because Nancy also didn’t ask for those. Just in broad lines how she and Evan met, how they got together, how their relationship went - including all the ups and downs. How Claire got pregnant and told him, and how horrifying that pregnancy was without his support and with her dependance on drugs.

How she eventually got away and how the terrors began. How he hit her, stalked her, threatened her and made her life a living hell for the past seven years.

Claire lit up once Nancy asked her about Atlas. Claire used hand-gestures to describe what kind of child Atlas is and how he’s wild and adventurous, but also so snuggly. She explained how she felt him regress whenever he was around Evan, and how he had nightmares and asked to sleep in her bed.

Nancy nodded along and took notes of everything Claire explained. The conversation turned towards Harry and Finn and their blended family. Claire smiled when she spoke of the bond Harry and Atlas had, and how Nancy would certainly see that if she came to visit them at the house. 

“Have you ever considered taking Atlas to therapy?” Nancy questioned curiously. Claire nibbled her lip and slowly shook her head, “I actually haven’t. I mean… I’m not sure if he’d benefit from it. Isn’t he too young?”

“From what you explained, he sounds like a bright young man.” Nancy smiled, “And it’d be a child therapist, of course. Someone who’s trained to work with children, and maybe even specifically surrounding the topic of divorce and living in two seperate houses. Is he a creative kid?”

“Like drawing and stuff?” Claire questioned, “Not really. He is a good talker though. He’s… inquisitive, I’d say. He asks me a lot and often wants Harry to explain things very in depth.”

Nancy nodded, “Did you tell him what you were doing today?”

“No.” Claire shook her head. When I came back from court last time, I explained to him what was going to happen. He asked a few questions and he knows you will come to the house to talk to him. He’s not too nervous, he says. But… well - that night, he asked to sleep in our bed.”

Nancy’s eyes turned sympathetic and Claire lowered her gaze. Silence fell over the room a little bit and Claire eventually took a breath, “I just don’t understand why he keeps getting chances.” She murmured, “He’s disappointed Atlas so many times. He’s never been there for him, or for us. I did it all by myself. I take full responsibility for the way Atlas is today, because Evan didn’t raise him. I-I just don’t get how many mistakes he has to make, or how bad it has to be for something to finally be done.” She ended while shrugging her shoulders.

“I’ve been in hospital a handful of times because of him, in the year and a half alone. Atlas saw it all. That’s… that’s not okay for a seven year old.”

“It’s not.” Nancy agreed.

After nearly two hours, they wrapped it up. Nancy would be in touch after she also managed to speak to Evan to hear his side of the story. Claire had pressed her lips together to keep herself from talking, because she was about to warn Nancy that all he’d say are lies. But of course, Nancy was supposed to be neutral and she couldn’t pick sides - so Claire just kept her mouth shut.

Going home, she sat thinking in the car. Thinking of Atlas, and thinking of the life choices she made. Losing her family and her parent’s support because she was with Evan. She hated him, and she regretted him every single day of her life.

But then she looked at Atlas, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. She’d take the pain times ten if it meant making him happy and carefree. Claire was always overcome with such a pure love, one that she felt like she could hardly explain. She was glad that Harry understood, because he felt the same towards Finn.

And sometimes, Claire took a little step back to realize how fucking lucky she was.

And she didn’t realize it yet, but life was about to get a little luckier.

***

Harry whistled once he locked the car.

His sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose and he just couldn’t wait to get inside and change into something more comfortable. Even if it was May, it was insanely warm. He wore slacks for this business meeting with the headhunters of his latest project, but his slacks were as uncomfortable as they could be.

“Babe?” He called out once he opened up the front door. Harry was met with silence but glanced down, seeing the shoes strewn by the front door with the absence of Claire’s favourite slippers.

She only wore them at home, and it was a sign to him that she was home.

He kept whistling the same tune softly, kicking off his own dress shoes before putting his briefcase down on the dining table. Peaking into the kitchen, his face lit up when he saw Claire at the stove.

Her head flicked to the side, a bright smile immediately appearing on her face, “Hey!” She excitedly smiled, and Harry was drawn to her like a magnet. His hands found her hips as he kissed her, humming. The scent of Claire’s famous pancakes entered his nose and he melted into a puddle of comfort.

He was home.

“How was your meeting?” Claire questioned, hair up in a lazy ponytail and wearing one of Harry’s aprons that said chef Styles at the front, embroidered in elegant gold. Harry dipped his finger in the pancake batter, humming, “Quite good. They like my ideas so far. They did want me to rethink the columns though.”

“No, really?! We sat hours thinking about those god damn columns.” Claire complained and Harry chuckled, licking off his finger, “I know. But hey, they pay my bills so… I’ll fuckin’ rethink their columns.”

Claire chuckled at Harry’s cursing - something he really only did when he was done with someone’s shit or when the kids weren’t home.

Her heart hammered in her chest when she kept her back to him, clearing her throat, “Hey - uh… can you get me a spoon?”

“Spoon.” Harry nodded, pushing himself off the counter, “Sure.”

He whistled again, yet it abruptly stopped when he opened up the cutlery drawer.

He saw no spoons, forks or knives. The drawer had been cleared out and instead Harry saw a little dark green romper in the drawer. And a pregnancy test next to it.

“Wh-” He cut himself off with a sharp gasp, tears blurring his eyes when he felt like his heart stopped. His legs wobbled when he felt the sharp rush to his head. He briskly turned around, and Claire’s smile grew when she saw the shock written all over his face.

She sheepishly leaned against the counter behind her, the stove turned off in a break from making pancakes.

“Surprise.” She whispered with a smile.

Harry panted out, as if he had just ran a marathon, “Y-You’re pregnant?” His voice cracked.

“Yes.” Claire giggled and Harry threw his head back, pumping his fists, “You’re pregnant!” He shouted.

“Harry!” Claire giggled as he ran up to her and scooped her up. Claire’s ponytail flew around as he spun her, hands underneath her thighs and smiling into her neck. Harry then sat her down on the countertop, breathing heavily as his eyes watered and his cheeks hurt from smiling, “Please, tell me I’m not dreaming.”

Claire lovingly cupped his cheeks, “You’re not dreaming, my love.” She smiled, “We’re having a baby.”

“Shit.” Harry’s voice broke as he buried his face into her neck, hugging her tightly to his chest. Claire soothed him, understanding the range of emotions running through Harry. They had been wanting this for quite some time.

She played with the hair in the nape of his neck as Harry tried to come to terms with the new information.

He pulled back with watery eyes and Claire giggled, “You’re crying.” She teased and he huffed out a chuckle, “Shut up.” He grabbed the back of her neck to bring her in for a deep kiss. They smiled into one another as Harry touched Claire in every way he could. 

“I’m so happy.” He whispered, “You make me so happy. You make me so happy.” He repeated the words, kissing around Claire’s face until she shook with giggles and Harry could hardly breathe anymore.

“How long?” He breathed. Claire nibbled her lip, “Just a few weeks. I’m not sure. I took a few tests today, they all came back positive. I-I couldn’t wait to tell you.” She spoke. She realized they still weren’t a billion percent sure. They hadn’t been to the doctor’s and Claire hadn’t gotten any blood work done. But the six tests she peed on all told her the same answer.

A very clear line that indicated she was pregnant. No more than a couple of weeks.

“I love you.” Harry murmured, “So much. You’re giving me my dream.” He cried more and Claire giggled, making slight fun of him as Harry hid in her neck and held her tightly. Claire couldn’t wipe the bright smile off of her face.

She had been throwing up a few times lately. Claire thought it was stress - but much like every month she decided to take a pregnancy test today. She didn’t even expect it to come out positive. But then there it was.

And now they were here. On cloud nine.

“D-Do we tell the boys?” Harry sniffled, wiping underneath his eyes once he unhooked himself from Claire. She couldn’t even respond before he deeply kissed her. Claire leaned back into the wall as Harry slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, shoving every single emotion he felt into the kiss to leave her dizzy and breathless.

“H-” She tried but he groaned, kissing her again, “I want you.” He panted.

Claire raised her brows, “Wh- now?” She asked in shock. Harry nodded eagerly, “Mhm. We’ve got time right?” He already dragged her to the edge of the countertop to pick her up underneath her thighs again.

“Uh - yeah, like an hour - Harry, wait.” Claire giggled when he carried her up the stairs, the apron still on her body. Claire smiled while Harry kicked open the door of their bedroom and then used his foot to close it again.

Even though he couldn’t wait to make her his and celebrate this moment by being so close to her, he was gentle when laying her down. Claire bit her lip to fight her smile as he seemingly tried to take it slow and easy, but the second he was on top of her and they met in a searing kiss - that all flew out the window.

The apron landed on the floor, quickly followed by their other clothes. Claire could hardly keep up with his pace but every thought she ever had left her brain when she felt his tongue between her thighs.

“Oh…” Claire exhaled, melting into the bedding and tipping her head back with a soft gasp when Harry licked into her. His fingers kept her open and he played with her clit like only he could, keeping his eyes closed as he revelled in her taste.

Claire’s eyes rolled back when he sucked on her, “Harry…” She moaned, “oh my god.” Her hand found his curls, pulling him closer into her as she fought to keep her lips still. Harry’s fingers joined, sinking inside her easily and dragging up her front wall until Claire shuddered and orgasmed.

But if she thought that was the end of it, she was deeply mistaken. After four orgasms total, Claire could hardly keep her eyes open. She laid spent on the bedding with Harry slotted in between her legs, dick inside of her.

He had her in every position imaginable, from rolling her on her tummy and pulling her hips up to take her from behind, to assisting her in riding him and then slipping inside her as they spooned - he always preferred to end in missionary.

Harry hunched over her, breathing into her neck and inhaling her scent as Claire’s pussy pulsed around his aching cock, milking him of everything he could offer her. His thighs trembled as they each came down from their orgasm, and Claire felt tingly and exhausted.

“Sweet girl.” Harry crooned in her ear, “I love you so much.”

Claire hummed and tiredly yawned, “Jesus,” she hummed in satisfaction, “I should get pregnant more often.”

Harry bit his lip and sharply thrusted, his half hard dick scooting up inside of Claire to make her whimper. He squeezed their laced-together fingers, “Any complaints?” He teased and she quickly shook her head, “N-Nope. None at all.”

“Thought so.” He chuckled.

“I love you, baby daddy.” Claire lazily smiled and Harry smiled into her neck, “I still can’t believe we’re finally having a baby.” He lifted up a bit to gaze down at her, and Claire had her eyes closed, softly smiling, “Me neither.” She murmured.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Harry stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “The entire thing is just gonna be amazing. Watching you grow a beautiful bump, going to appointments together, being there with you for birth, watch our boys become big brothers.” He listed and Claire forced her eyes open to see Harry with a dreamy look on his face.

“I can’t wait to tell them.” She smiled and Harry chuckled, “They’re going to be over the moon. Should we - uh… wait until we’ve seen a doctor?”

Claire stifled a yawn, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll call the doctor in a minute.”

“You take a nap first, babe. I’ll pick up the kids.” He offered, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Claire didn’t protest and let Harry clean her up a bit. She giggled when he ducked underneath the sheets to sponge kisses to her tummy and whisper things to a very tiny baby that she couldn’t understand. Claire felt lighter than she had in a long time.

She took a nap and later came down to her entire world sitting at the dining table. Atlas excitedly told her about his day and Finn climbed up on Claire’s thighs to show her some of his spelling homework. 

It was about a week later that Nancy came around to talk to Atlas. Claire was a bit of a nervous wreck, keeping herself busy in the kitchen as Atlas sat in his bedroom with Nancy. They hadn’t talked about it much, but Claire tried to reassure Atlas that he could say whatever he wanted and that she was a nice woman.

A small hour later, Nancy came back down the stairs and offered Claire a smile, “You have a bright boy, Claire.” She congratulated her and Claire smiled while exhaling a sigh, “Thank you. Did everything go okay?”

“It did.” She nodded, “I took some notes and I asked him if he’s okay with me sharing whatever he said with you. He said it’s fine, so I’ll write it all in my report and go through it with you the next time we see each other.”

Claire nodded, “Okay. And - uh… is there anything I can do for him right now? Was it… emotional? Does he need something?”

Nancy’s mouth curled up into a small smile and she shook her head, “It wasn’t a very emotional talk. He was nice and polite and we played a little game. He showed me his room and his toys - he’s very proud of that giraffe.” She smiled and Claire chuckled, “Yeah, he is.”

“He said it was a gift from daddy Harry.”

Claire’s insides warmed and she sniffled once, nodding, “Mhm. He gave it to him for his birthday last year.”

“That’s sweet.” Nancy then briefly touched Claire’s arm in comfort, “You don’t have to do anything special for him tonight, Ms. Carter. Atlas is very emotionally mature and I’m sure he’ll show signs or tell you when he feels in distress.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Claire exhaled before she let Nancy out.

And in the week that passed, Claire and Harry got the confirmation from the doctor that she was, in fact, pregnant. Just five weeks. But they couldn’t even keep it in. Harry had already called his parents and Claire had tried with all her might to not let anything slip to Atlas and Finn. They hadn’t noticed anything about her this week, but they’d soon notice she skipped out on different foods or she’d get sick more often, or she’d grow a bump.

Harry was by far most excited about that. The baby was a far dream for now, his current dream was seeing Claire with a beautiful bump. 

He touched her stomach all the time even if there was nothing there yet, and he whispered to the baby on most evenings while she was dozing off. It was adorable to see him, and he cried tears of joy more often in the last week than Claire had seen from him in all the time she knew him.

But tonight, they decided they were going to tell the boys.

And Claire felt excited, but also a little nervous. Harry was at another meeting and Claire would pick up Finn this Friday evening. Atlas stayed home due to Nancy coming around.

Claire wore a flowy top and had sunnies on her nose as she waited by the school gate, making the obligatory small talk with Dolores - who mostly asked questions about Harry.

“So, Atlas,” She leaned down to smile brightly at him. He forced a little smile back and Claire fought her giggle as Dolores took a breath, “how come you weren’t in school today? Are you feeling sick?” She raised her hand to place it on his forehead and Atlas backed away, into Claire’s side a little.

It made her heart shatter. Of course she always taught Atlas to not let strangers touch him without him giving consent, but it also went to show that he was scared of a raised hand. She stroked her fingers through his hair and cleared her throat, “No, he wasn’t sick. We just had something to do so we’re just picking up Finn now.”

“Something to do, hm?” Dolores smiled, “Something fun? If it makes you skip out on school?”

Claire rolled her eyes and then heard the bell ringing. Atlas jumped up to greet Finn by the gate and Claire smoothed her hands over her top, “Look, Dolores, please stop putting your nose all up in my business. If I don’t give details, it’s because it’s private.” She sternly spoke.

Dolores’ lips turned into a tight line and she shot Claire a fake smile, “Noted. Have a good weekend.”

“You too.” Claire sighed before her face lit up, “Finn!” She squeaked, the boy eagerly running up to her for a hug, “Hi, Claire bear.” He mumbled and she couldn’t even find it in herself to scold him for it today.

She took his backpack to put in the back of the car, “Are you excited for the weekend?” Claire asked as both boys got in the backseat.

“Yes!” They simultaneously shouted out, making Claire smile. She looked at Finn and Atlas playfully giggling through the rear-view mirror.

“How did it go today?” Finn questioned softly. One glance in the mirror told Claire that his question was directed towards Atlas. She nodded to herself, liking how Finn was there for emotional support for Atlas. They trusted each other through and through and proudly named one another their brother. And besides that, they were best friends.

Atlas shrugged, “It was okay. The lady was nice. She had funny glasses.”

“Really?” Finn smiled and Atlas eagerly nodded, “Mhm. They went like this.” He used his fingers to motion for a cat-eye shaped pair of glasses and Claire chuckled under her breath as Finn gasped in surprise, “Wow! Is she coming back? I wanna see!”

Atlas looked at Claire and she pressed her lips together, “I’m not sure. I don’t think so, honestly. She said you did so good. It might be enough to see you just the one time.”

Atlas proudly beamed at himself and Finn patted his hand, “Hear that? She said you did good!”

“I just answered her questions.” Atlas downplayed. Finn shifted a little, “What kind of questions?”

“About mummy and daddy. And you too. And daddy Harry.” Atlas spoke. Finn nodded as he listened intently. There was a lot of hurt in the car. Some people might find it admirable that Evan at least tried to fight for Atlas. For Finn, it was just Harry. Astrid didn’t even try to see him or know him.

Claire would never understand that choice, but on the other hand it did lead her to her Harry and a lifetime of happiness. Claire slipped her hand to the backseat to squeeze Finn’s calf playfully, “Hey, you know what we’re having for dinner tonight? It was your week to pick.”

Finn gasped excitedly, “Did daddy make enchiladas?!”

He mispronounced the word completely, making Claire crack up but she nodded, “Mhm, he made enchiladas.”

“Yay!” Finn squealed as Claire pulled up on the driveway, her smile growing when she saw Harry’s car parked there too.

“Hi, my three loves.” Harry greeted them playfully with open arms, catching one boy in each as they laughed and wrestled for a bit. He held Finn back just a tad when Claire approached, “Not too rough around mum, Finn.” He warned softly. Finn didn’t think much of it and Harry slipped an arm around Claire’s form, his other hand resting low on her tummy. 

Pulling her in for a long kiss, he contently hummed against her lips, “How was today?” He whispered.

“Good.” Claire smiled, “Atlas did good. Nancy is going to give us the full report at the end but she said he was so polite and sweet. So… yeah. And Atlas seems fine so far.” She shrugged, “He hasn’t said anything. Spoke about it to Finn a bit in the car.”

“That’s great.” Harry nodded, “And you? Not too rough this morning?”

“Just some sickness.” Claire shrugged, “But I didn’t throw up.”

Harry helped her put down her bag, “Did you get sick a lot when pregnant with Atlas?”

Claire swallowed thickly as she avoided his gaze, “To be honest, I - uh… I can’t really remember.”

Harry caught on and softly squeezed her hip, “‘S okay. Did you still want to tell them tonight?”

She bit her lip with a smile, “Yeah, I think so. Hey, how was the meeting?”

“Good! I pitched the idea for the new columns and they’re on board.” He shrugged, “So just need to order in the materials now.”

Claire patted his ass, “Good job, daddy.”

He huffed out, shaking his head in disbelief, “Brat.”

“What?” Claire innocently shrugged while taking a glass from the cupboard, “Just calling you by your rightful name.”

He walked up to her with a small smirk, grabbing her throat but not alarming Claire in the slightest. Harry affectionatelly rubbed his nose with hers, “I’m gonna get you back tonight, you know that, right?”

“Counting on it.” She whispered back, pecking his lips in a chaste kiss.

Harry felt a blush on his cheeks when he watched the way she walked away from him, sultrily swaying her hips. He felt so in love he didn’t even know what do with himself. No day with Claire was ever dull.

It was after dinner, when everyone was heading to the couch for a movie, that Claire nervously fiddled her fingers. Finn and Atlas sat waiting with big round eyes, “What’s the surprise?” Atlas frowned in confusion.

“We got something for the both of you.” Harry came walking up with two little bags. Claire forced a smile, knowing it was the corniest gift ever and she had absolutely no say in it. But Harry had a vision in telling the boys, and this was it.

Finn frowned too, “Is it someone’s birthday?”

“It’s not.” Harry chuckled, handing both boys a gift bag but holding up his finger, “It’s very important that you open it together and that you very carefully read what’s on it before asking any questions, okay?”

The boys eagerly nodded yet Finn pouted, “Read?” He repeated, “More reading? I thought school was done.”

Claire sputtered out a laugh at his sarcasm and even Harry found himself amused, knowing that was 100% Claire’s influence rubbing off on him. He shot Finn a look, “Just open it, bub.”

Atlas’ tongue poked out in concentration as he tried to open the ribbon and Harry and Claire shared a look before he took her hand in his and gave a squeeze. 

“Slow down, Finn.” Harry softly chuckled, alerting him to wait for Atlas a bit. Eventually both boys got to opening up the bag and Claire held her breath, keeping her eyes on Atlas solemnly as he frowned in confusion, pulling out the shirt in his size and he held it open.

“World’s…” Finn struggled a bit to read the words and Harry clenched his jaw, his surprise not really going how he wanted.

“... best big brother.” Atlas finished, tilting his head to the side. Claire felt tears in her eyes this time as Atlas slowly lowered the shirt with a frown of confusion on his face. He blinked at Claire once before dropping his eyes to her stomach, and Claire’s pulse skyrocketed.

Harry cleared his throat softly, “You’re going to be big brothers. Mum and dad are… uh - having a baby.” He spoke almost nervously.

Finn’s brows raised as his jaw dropped, “A new little bub?” He gasped.

“A new little bub.” Harry chuckled in a nod.

“Baby?” Claire checked, waiting for Atlas’ reaction. He still seemed dumbfounded before he flicked his eyes between Harry and Claire, “We’re getting a little brother?”

“O-Or a sister.” Claire stuttered. Atlas immediately pouted at that, making Harry throw his head back in a laugh.

“Or a brother.” Claire quickly smiled.

Atlas got up his feet and ran up to her. Claire let go of Harry’s hand to catch Atlas, wrapping her arms around his body as he pressed his face to her neck, “Mummy, I’m so happy.” He murmured.

“Oh, thank god.” Claire sighed out, and Harry rubbed his hand over Atlas’ back with a smile. 

“How long do we have to wait?!” Finn squealed, joining in on the group hug. Claire sniffled as Harry laughed, “About eight months, buddy. So… around February of next year.”

“That’s long.” Atlas pulled back with a pout, “I’ll be eight by then.”

“You will be.” Claire cupped his cheek lovingly, “You’ll both be.”

Atlas went on to hug Harry as FInn cuddled into Claire, “I love you, mum.” He whispered and Claire cried some more, kissing his cheek repeatedly, “I love you too, angel boy.”

“Now you’re the one crying.” Harry teased as he squeezed the back of Claire’s neck. She breathed out a huffing chuckle, “I’m pregnant, I’m allowed.”

“Yeah, you are.” He smiled.

***

“And then Atlas said that he gets along really well with Finn.” Nancy smiled.

Harry’s hand was on Claire’s thigh and she toyed with his fingers as they sat in Nancy’s office together. Today was their second appointment with Nancy, and basically their last. The next time they saw one another would be right before court, when she would hand out the final reports before their hearing.

Harry smiled at the words, “They do get along really well.”

“Mhm.” Claire agreed, “It’s sweet to see.”

“Atlas said so. He said Finn is his best friend.” She put the papers down, “Overall, Ms. Carter and Mr. Styles, I got to know Atlas as a very respectful and wise young man.”

Claire’s heart warmed and Nancy continued, “It was clear to me that he was genuine and honest, and his truth is that he doesn’t necessarily want any contact with his biological father. He doesn’t miss him when he’s not there and he doesn’t feel too comfortable in the house either.” Nancy then turned around a few of the papers, “I asked Atlas to draw. Both his houses.”

Claire leaned forward as Harry squinted a bit, seeing the stick figures and houses drawn. Nancy pointed to one, “This is where he drew your house. He drew this one first. He went for oranges and yellow-tones for the house itself and drew you both with precision, including color of your hair.”

Claire stared at the drawn version of herself and Nancy tapped her finger on Claire’s stick figure, “He drew you with flowers on your dress.”

“He loves that dress.” Claire smiled softly and Harry squeezed her leg.

“He drew a lot of flowers and hearts around the house itself too. And he drew clouds in his room.” Nancy ran her finger in a circle over where Atlas drew his room, “I asked him why, and he said it means dreams and comfort.”

Claire’s lip wobbled as she forced a smile. Her sweet boy.

Nancy softly cleared her throat, “Then I asked him to draw his father’s house.” Nancy grabbed another paper, and Claire and Harry’s faces immediately fell.

“He used only… grey for this one. No decorations,” Nancy explained, “no colours, no flowers, no… clouds.” She showed the house Atlas drew, “It was also noticeable how in your house, he drew himself as part of the family. When drawing his father’s house, he drew just his father. And he’s not smiling either.”

Claire and Harry didn’t respond much, just stared at the drawings. Nancy put the papers back and clasped her fingers together, “Me and Atlas played a little game after. With cards that have questions on them. I asked him what he likes about mum’s house, and he said he likes it because you’re there. He feels safe and warm, and he said daddy Harry is a very good cook.”

Harry’s lips curled into a grin and he chuckled, almost blushing. Nancy smiled along, “I asked him the same about his father, and he… he didn’t have much to say. He said it’s quite bland. They don’t do much besides watch TV. And he misses swim practice every other week, and he likes to swim.”

“In short,” Nancy breathed, “Atlas doesn’t seem to have much connection to his dad. You’ll read it in the final report, but I of course had all these conversations with the father as well. Just like I asked you, I asked him to describe his son. He… he didn’t say much.” Nancy shrugged.

Claire huffed. It didn’t necessarily surprise her that Evan couldn’t describe Atlas. He wasn’t an attentive person in general and he didn’t know much about Atlas. He didn’t ask things either. Nancy cleared her throat, “For example, he couldn’t tell me Atlas’ favorite color, or his favorite subject in school, or his favorite toy or game.”

“So… I mean, these things are telling, right? Atlas is too young to be heard by the judge, but he literally told you he doesn’t want to see Evan anymore. That means something, right?” Harry questioned.

Nancy nodded, “It does. Of course… a family judge will always try to include both biological parents in the life of a child. Especially a child that can’t make that decision for himself. Atlas is young. Chances are that the judge will give Evan another chance.”

Claire frowned, “Another chance? He’s gotten billions of chances.”

“I’m also allowed to state my advice to the judge. It’s not binding, in the sense that I can’t make the decision but I can steer in a certain direction,” Nancy explained, “and I will definitely advise for an ending of contact between Atlas and Evan.”

Harry and Claire exhaled a sigh of relief and nodded to themselves, “Thank you.” Claire spoke.

And low and behold, a few weeks later, Claire and Harry went back to court to face Evan and hear the judge. Claire was a nervous wreck, and Harry constantly stroked his hand over her tummy. She was now almost three months pregnant and when wearing something extremely tight, the tiniest of bumps showed.

Claire was sure Harry imagined the bump and she had just been slacking with working out since the pregnancy, but Harry was convinced it was there. And he loved on her tiny bump like nothing else.

Today, it was concealed. 

Claire wore a sundress as July approached. Harry’s mum was at the house to look after the boys for today, and tomorrow they were heading to camp for a week so Harry and Claire had some time to themselves as well.

To either cry about what was said today, or to celebrate it.

Timothy stood behind them, explaining to the judge what he had read in the social inquiry. Evan looked pissed as fuck because Nancy actually did advise for the contact between him and Atlas to be broken for the time being. Nancy didn’t advise this forever, and the judge repeated how a custody arrangement was something dynamic. Atlas would age and his needs would change, but Claire could only hope that from now on, they’d always respect his decisions and his wishes.

Timothy repeated Nancy’s words, saying that Atlas clearly didn’t have a connection with Evan and that he didn’t ask for it. Evan’s judge argued that Atlas was young and maybe didn’t exactly know what he wanted.

The judge cleared her throat and Harry and Claire held their breaths as she spoke out that Atlas and Evan were not to have contact. Almost a restraining order, so to say. It’d be under evaluation for at least six months, after which there’d probably be a new social inquiry to see how things were.

Evan’s lawyer did get the judge to agree that someone other than Nancy was to conduct the next social inquiry. Claire rolled her eyes at that.

She refused to look at Evan, not even when she felt his gaze burning on the side of her face. When he could clearly see the way Harry gently cradled Claire’s barely there bump. He couldn’t keep his hands off, especially when needing comfort or when wanting to comfort Claire.

“Oh, thank god.” Claire sighed as she turned to Harry, immediately wrapping her arms around him when the decision was final. Atlas was theirs, and he’d never have to go see his dad again unless he wanted to. 

Harry exhaled in relief as he kissed the side of Claire’s neck, “You did it.” He whispered, “‘M so proud of you.”

“We did it.” Claire corrected him, pulling back to cup his cheek and plant a kiss to his lips. She felt like a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. And Harry’s too.

His eyes looked light and energized when he smiled at her, love radiating from him, “Let’s go home to our boys.” He squeezed her fingers as the pair left the courtroom.

That night, the family of four celebrated. Harry’s mum stayed over too, occupying herself with the kids a little while Claire assisted Harry in the kitchen for dinner. She cupped her hand underneath the dripping spoon he let her get a taste off and she hummed, nodding before she licked her lip, “It’s so good, H.”

“Yeah? Does it need anything more?” Harry checked and Claire shook her head, hopping on the countertop, “No, it’s perfect. I don’t understand how you do that.”

Harry chuckled, “What? Make tomato-sauce? It’s so easy.”

“Well, if it’s so easy, I’d be able to do it.” Claire muttered under her breath. Harry walked over to her, splitting her knees as he stood in between them, “Hey,” he chuckled with a slightly teasing tone, “we balance each other out, hm? I’m good at the cooking, you’re good at other stuff.”

She cocked up an eyebrow, “Like what?”

Harry opened his lips and Claire shot him a challenging look, “I swear, if you say cleaning…” She held up a warning finger and Harry laughed before pretending to bite it. He leaned in to press a deep kiss to her lips, “No, m’love. Other things.” His hands slipped up her dress to feel her bare thighs, “So good at so many other things.” He whispered against her lips before Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they were pulled into a deep make-out session.

Tongues tangled together as the food sputtered on the stove. Harry softly groaned as he nipped below her ear, “Can’t wait to fuck you in this kitchen every day next week.”

She breathed out a chuckle, running her fingers through his hair, “Trust me, me neither.” They both loved their boys so incredibly much, but a week with just the two of them sounded incredible. No responsibilities.

“Won’t be able to bend you over though.” Harry murmured, hand slipping to the bulging in her tummy as he gently stroked his fingers over her skin. Claire puffed out a breath, “We’ll do it on the bed then.” She panted, “You can bend me over all you want.”

He chuckled, “Dirty.” His hips rutted forward as they teased each other in the kitchen. The tip of his tongue flicked her bottom lip and Claire fought her shudder as Harry had her in the palm of his hand. 

They were in the exact same position just twenty-four hours later. Only now it was just the two of them in the house. And now, Claire’s dress was pulled up over her hips and the straps of her shoulders were tugged down to expose her tits. Harry panted into her mouth as he thrusted inside of her, filling her deep with each thrust.

“Fuck - y’feel so good.” Harry moaned, lifting her thigh a little higher around his hip to get the deeper angle. Claire’s head thudded back into the cabinet, her lips open in laboured breaths while Harry stared at the bounce in her tits from the rhythm he had set.

After sex in the kitchen, they were in a teasing and playful mood. Harry chased Claire through the house for a bit until they ate more of Harry’s heavenly cooking with a candle dancing between them.

“C’mon, let’s go for a walk.” Harry offered Claire his hand and she sighed out, fixing her hair in the clip a little after cleaning up their dishes, “Really? Can’t we just… watch a movie?”

Harry pouted, “Babe, c’mon… it’s such a beautiful night. It’s nice and warm, and the fresh air will do us good before going to sleep.”

Claire was easily persuaded when Harry pouted at her like that, so she put on her slippers and they exited the house for a walk in the summer evening. The sun was down but the crickets were loud and the temperatures were still warm.

Their fingers were laced together as Harry guided them in the direction of a little nearby park. Claire was in the middle of telling an elaborate story about Dolores when she stopped on her tracks, blinking at the sight in front of her.

The one big tree that stood central in the little park, was lit up with lampions. It exuded warmth and Harry gently tugged Claire’s hand, “Come on.” He murmured, pulling her in the direction of the tree. 

“H-Harry.” She stuttered, not finding any other words to say as she stumbled behind him a little. His face lit up from the lights as he smiled at her, coming to a stop underneath the tree. The shock on Claire’s face was slightly amusing as she blinked at him, “Did you do this?” She whispered.

“Mhm.” Harry smiled softly before cupping her chin and bringing her in for a kiss, “I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Oh my god.” Claire’s heart slammed in her chest and Harry chuckled at the tone of realization in her voice. He nodded softly and held her hands, “Mhm. You always tell me Atlas can’t keep a secret, hm?”

Claire mindlessly nodded and Harry licked his lip, “Well, he kept this secret real good. Even from Finn. He didn’t tell Finn or you that him and I went on a long walk a few weeks back and that we had a really good conversation. He asked me if I loved you and I said yes. He asked me if I’d love you forever, and I said yes. And then I asked him permission to ask you to marry me.”

“Oh my god.” Claire repeated, her voice sounding watery as tears filled her eyes but she broke out into a wide smile. Harry mirrored it and cleared his throat softly, “So here I am. Almost two years after I first thought I’d like to marry you.” He near mumbled the last part, almost saying it more to himself.

“So, my sweet Claire bear.” He teased with a smile while squeezing her fingers before taking a breath, “You came into my life like a fucking hurricane, but I’ve never felt this free or happy. A-And I can’t believe we’re having a baby together. Being with you feels so freeing, like I’ve known you all my life. And it’s so easy between us too. And then I see you with our boys and everything just clicks. You’re truly the love of my life and there’s no one I’d rather share all my days with.” He spoke.

Claire giggled as she giddily leaned in to kiss him. Harry smiled against her lips, “Will you marry me?” He whispered against her lips.

“Yes!” Claire squeaked, jumping in his arms. Harry caught her easily as they laughed and cuddled and he spun her around. Claire kissed the side of his neck and then his lips, smiling through the kissing, “I love you.” She smiled, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Love you more.” Harry chuckled, patting her ass, “Don’t you wanna see the ring?”

“Oh, right!” Claire laughed, “I almost forgot.”

“Atlas helped me pick it out.” Harry grabbed a small velvet box from his pocket and Claire held her breath when he opened it up, revealing the minimalistic yet elegant ring, with a small diamond. It wasn’t too in your face, but it was there, and it was perfect.

Claire pressed her palm to her chest, “Oh, Harry…” She murmured, “It’s so beautiful, oh my god.”

“D’you like it?” He checked, slightly nervous. Claire couldn’t tear her eyes away from the ring as she nodded, “I love it. Truly. Wow.”

“You make me so happy.” Harry smiled as he wrapped her up again after sliding the ring on her finger. They breathily kissed while mumbling out love affirmations until Claire started waddling them back to the house.

Harry laughed at her eagerness as he gladly allowed Claire to guide him back home for a night of celebrations.

//

thank you so much for reading along!!! i adore this one :D :D :D

p.s. you asked to be tagged hehe: @theekyliepage

[conflictofthemind]

Finally reading the book and Mike Wheeler is clearly inspired by Calvin from a Wrinkle in Time (which is a known major inspiration for the show as a whole and Season 5). Walk with me.

The "I hate myself" part makes me go a bit nuts here because. Wow! The alleged Scriptgate line.

Calvin is one of the three child protagonists from a Wrinkle in Time, and Meg's (somewhat) love interest. He is the inverse of Meg, a popular guy at school and star of the basketball team who achieves academically. But his home life is fraught and cold, and his needs are neglected by his parents. I have a bit more analysis on the Wheelers/Byers dynamics and a Wrinkle in Time here. He is 'different' like Meg and Charles; but he hides his true self in order to fit in at school. It's only through meeting the two throughout the novel that he embraces his 'different' status.

He is also gifted in communication, much like how Mike is known for delivering his rallying speeches Both Charles and Meg express disbelief at his assertions that he is odd at first because of how he appears to them, in a similar way to how El does in Episode Three. They face a lot of bullying at school because their differences are overt, and they don't attempt to hide them.

I really believe the Duffers' use of the word "different" is in direct reference to aWiT - it appears thirty times within the novel and Being Different is such an important motif that it got an OST (that I expect to return soon for Mike) in Season Four.

The framing for the two times Will and El mention their differences is almost exactly the same - both characters on the left, with Mike left obscured in the background, his expression hidden and left out of the conversation. It's such great foreshadowing that this will get brought up again; the context and meaning of the shots will change when we finally learn that Mike is different after all. He was just incredibly good at pretending not to be.

Bonus:

Hey uh..... why does Calvin's outfit in the 2003 Disney adaptation looks so familiar? I mean remove the green sweater and...

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Do you think Snape stopped being a bigot by the time canon rolled around or do you think he still thought of muggleborns as inferior but didn't act on it cause he was always around Dumbledore?

We know his love for Lily won't change anything, Lily herself points out how Snape's completely fine with calling every muggleborn but her a "mudblood" and even participated in bullying them. He sees Lily as an exception so there's no guarantee that even her death would change his views on the rest.

He probably never outright voices it because he's tied himself to Dumbledore, but that doesn't mean he can't still hold those bigoted views deep down.

His treatment and bullying of Hermione doesn't make him look good either. Yes, she's an overzealous know-it-all who annoyed Snape, but I wonder if that was simply it or if his bullying of her was motivated by blood prejudice as well.

As far as I remember, there's nothing in canon that proves Snape is still a bigot, but there's nothing that disproves it either. Thoughts?

Honestly we aren't really told anything about his opinions about muggleborns and muggles during the books. If I had to guess, I'd say his opinions didn't change much. Lily was always an exception, so I don't think her death would change his opinion on muggleborns as a whole.

We see this outlook with Slughorn too:

“Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn’t believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good.” “One of my best friends is Muggle-born,” said Harry, “and she’s the best in our year.” “Funny how that sometimes happens, isn’t it?” said Slughorn. “Not really,” said Harry coldly.

(HBP, 70)

He knows some muggleborns are brilliant and talented (like Lily and Hermione) but he considers them exceptions, not the common muggleborn. The perfect special muggleborn. The talented ones he cares about.

I think Snape is a little similar, if for completely different reasons. Slughorn looks down on muggleborns because of how unfamiliar with the muggle world he is. He's a pure-blood who was raised to think muggleborns have lower chances of being talented and exceptional.

Snape, on the other hand, has something very different going on in his head. I think he also has this tendency to look down on muggleborns, and he always had, but not for the same reason as Slughorn. In Snape's case, it comes from his hatred of muggles. Snape hates his father and the circumstances of his upbringing. He probably holds some resentment towards his mother for staying and raising him in a poor and abusive environment. And, it's not like Snape's mother was overly involved in his life either, he was allowed to just run around the streets alone since he was seven (or younger) and that was pretty much it.

Snape associated the muggle world with pain, humiliation, and neglect. And while the Wizarding World wasn't free of pain and humiliation, it was better. The Wizarding World came with magic, the ability to at least have a chance to defend himself, a chance at belonging (we Lucius except Snape into Slytherin easily when he arrives), and pride. Snape is an incredibly talented wizard and he knows it, and takes great pride in it.

So the wizard side of things was always the better one for him. The one he preferred to associate himself with (calling himself the "Half-Blood Prince" is an example of that). And I think his outlook on muggles and muggleborns is still somewhat colored by this even as an adult.

I think it did tone down since his youth, I don't think he's as extreme as he was when he joined the Death Eaters as a teenager, but I think he's still prejudiced against muggles and muggleborns (more muggles than muggleborns though), at least to a degree. I mean, these sorts of outlooks don't just change overnight. So, while I think Snape isn't advocating for muggleborns registration anymore, he still looks down on them and expects less of them, like, a subtler sort of prejudice.

I think Snape's bullying of Hermione is mostly for her know-it-all attitude, being friends with Harry, and being a Gryffindor (a whole different prejudice). But I think there is a little muggleborn prejudice in there too. I don't think it's the main issue he takes with her, but, like I said, it's unlikely he just completely got over it.

And, we see that looking down on muggles and muggleborns is pretty common in the wizarding world as I mentioned with Slughorn and while Dumbledore wouldn't be happy if Snape called muggleborns "mudbloods" he himself is just as prejudiced against muggles. He looks down on them like all of the wizarding world does, in subtler ways than the Death Eaters. So Snape probably wouldn't make an active effort to change his opinions. Even the Weasleys look down on muggles:

“Are they doctors?” he asked Ron quietly. “Doctors?” said Ron, looking startled. “Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they’re Healers.”

(OotP, 484)

“Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er — Yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mom’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

(PS, 73)

All wizards, even the more muggle-accepting ones are pretty prejudiced, it's that ingrained into their culture. So much so that Hermione stopped talking about her parents even to her friends, the Weasleys' squib cousin is never mentioned, and confounding or obliviating muggles is considered harmless even though we saw it can cause harm even to wizards (Lockheart). The wizarding world is a very prejudiced place even if you don't go around shouting slures. So I think Snape still holds this baseline level of looking down on muggles and muggleborns their whole world seems to practice, but he isn't advocating for their registration and death anymore either.

[sailtomarina]

Here is Where I Want to Stay

“Fred, do you have a mo–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the office door crashed open with the arrival of his twin.

“We have a problem.”

The tone in George’s voice made it clear the problem needed immediate attention, and the two of you rushed out without hesitation. Fred squeezed your shoulder in passing, however, reassuring you that you’d find another time to speak.

Except, it seemed like everything and everyone was out to interfere. 

No matter the time or place, whenever you approached Fred, something would happen that would pull one or both of you away. Not even the shop closing gave you the privacy needed, as not even half an hour after locking the door and cleaning up, Ron clattered down the stairs trailing soot from the flat.

“G-Ginny! Th-the baby! It’s coming!” He gasped out the news and bent at the waist as he attempted to catch his breath.

George scrambled to join Ron as they ran back up, but Fred paused just long enough to throw you a look.

“What are you waiting for? Go! I’ll close shop.” You shooed him along with your hands, earning a grateful smile and wink.

“Thanks, love! We’ll chat later, yeah?”

Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the now quiet store. It felt strange to be the last one, despite having worked there for over a year now as you finished your Runes mastery.

What you didn’t expect was how fun each and every day was with the twins. They didn’t hesitate to pull you into product development and testing, and you found modern applications for runes that you never would have considered in the past. You were so invested in your projects with them, that you neglected your post-graduation job hunt as months passed you by. It was easy to forget about the outside world when working with the twins, especially Fred.

Fred, with his crooked grin and easy laugh. Fred’s eyes that sought you out without fail. He didn’t just look. He saw you with all your insecurities and curiosities and knew just what to say and do to fire you up. Everyday, you went back home alone, and everyday, you told yourself you’d tell him how he made you feel the next time you were alone together.

With a wave of your wand, the lights went out in the shop, but instead of leaving, you took one last look around. Just enough light from the street lamps outside streamed through the window to cast a glow over the polished wood shelves. Maybe it was time for you to bid farewell and move on.

 “You’re still here.”

You whirled around at the familiar voice, nearly crashing into his arms as they flew up to catch you. “Fred! What are you doing back already? What about Ginny?”

You felt as much as saw the quirk of his lips in the shadows. “She’s good, as is the baby. It’s a boy. They named him Albus.”

He had yet to drop his arms. They remained circled around you, hugging you close enough to breathe him in. Citrus, smoke, home. You felt faint. “Good. That’s good.”

“What was it you wanted to tell me all day?” His breath tickled your ear. 

You didn’t expect his face to be so close to yours when you turned to answer. He’d bent down towards you and now you hovered mere millimetres from one another. The air around you almost tripled in density, fighting your attempts to draw in one damn breath.

“I…” You stuttered to a stop, uncertain of how to phrase your longing.

“You?” His palms smoothed up your back to press you even closer.

“I want…”

How could you think with the way he brushed back a loose curl, or how he brought that same hand to the base of your neck, fingers threading into the strands and thumb rubbing circles against that sensitive spot behind your ear?

“What is it you want, love?” he murmured, lips nearly brushing your own.

“You.” The answer escaped before you could hold it back, rephrase it into something more eloquent.

His thumb stopped its circling and slid down to press upward against your jaw until your eyes met his. “That’s good.”

“It is?”

He hummed in assent. “Otherwise what I’m about to do would be very awkward.”

You had only a second to register the wicked grin that spread from cheek to cheek before you felt a yank to your navel. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on just enough for you to take in your surroundings. 

“Is this…your flat?”

You knew the answer before he even gave it; there was no questioning in whose room we stood. Those were Fred’s work boots next to the door, and there was his coat hanging on one of the hooks lining the wall. A small pile of books on Runes and Arithmancy sat on the nightstand of a bed made up in navy blue and cream.

“I didn’t bring you here under any pretence. I just wanted to give us a bit of light and privacy since George should be home soon.” 

“We could have walked up here,” you teased.

His cheeks turned a delightful pink. “I might have been showing off a bit.”

He barked out a laugh when you shoved him back onto the bed and he bounced in place.

“A bit? You cast those spells wandless and wordless.” 

Then you were on him, straddling his hips and tilting his face up towards your own. His reaction was instantaneous, hands grasping your hips and squeezing tight.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” His hands said otherwise as they slid down to cup your bottom.

Riding high on the confidence you’d lacked earlier, you saw no further reason to hold back. “Well, with your permission, I intend to snog you breathless.”

You squealed at the sudden shift as he rolled you both over and caged you in place. “You have my whole-hearted permission.”

Except, it was him who dived into the kiss first, tasting of whatever sweet treat he’d had earlier. It was him who pulled back to gaze down at you with a soft smile. It was also him who confessed, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for months now.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

With a little laugh that you pocketed to cherish later, he admitted, “There always seemed to be something coming up: rampant Pygmy Puffs, rogue frisbees, the nonstop disaster that is my family–” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the usually bright blue of his eyes darkening as he stared at you.

“What?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous at his continued silence.

“I’ve fantasised about us countless times, but to have you here with me still seems too good to be true. I’m going to wake up any minute now and find that this was all a dream.” He leaned forward, brushing past your cheek, to bury his face in the loose waves of your hair. A hand swiftly followed, burrowing and kneading and relaxing all the muscles in your body. “But this feels so real.” 

“That’s because it is real.” You cupped his cheek, thumb catching along the stubble lining his jaw, and brought him up to look at you. “I am here with you, and here is where I want to stay.”

So, you did.

WC 1242

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3.

4.18.24 Hump Day prompt: “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

More second-person POV. It's been fun writing reader insert, mostly because I get to imagine it's me experiencing these moments ;) I hope you don't mind!

[pillowspace]

Your blog is cool! And you are awesome :) who is your favorite, Sun or Moon?

Aw thank you so much!! And I love you too, silly Sun doodle

I love them both so much so it's hard to say one without feeling like I'm neglecting the other, but I'd say my favourite is Moon!

[envy-of-the-apple]

Alright so clearly yandere satoru would suck as a dad, my question is in your honest opinion would canon satoru be a good father?

No, but like its complicated?

again, i cant see gojo as someone who wants kids. he's someone who struggles to connect with ppl in general. I feel like he's self-aware enough to know that he's just not emotionally okay to take care of a kid. He hates being the strongest (well, he doesn't, but it's complicated), he hates that dynamic. A child, something that would be dependent solely on him, would probably not be that appealing.

kk, so maybe something happened, and he has a baby now. He definitely won't neglect them. He'd make sure the kid is taken care of and will care for them! But he would definitely leave them in the care of nannies and other caretakers. Buuuut emotional needs????he'd definitely struggle with that. He cares. He definitely cares and loves that kid, but he will have a hard time expressing that. And there's a high likelihood that the kid will grow up to just assume that their dad doesn't really care about them.

Im using his relationship with megumi as a baseline. It's clear he cares for his student, but it isn't father-love by any means (at least not traditionally). But THEN AGAIN, Gojo cares so so much for his students. He may not be their dad, but he cherishes each and every one of them deeply.

(ngl thats the big reason why im so horrified by gojo/yuji or megumi/gojo (apart from them being children). Like those are his BABIES HE'D NEVER)

TLDR: Gojo will 100% die for his kid, but he'd have a hard time expressing his love, considering he's emotionally repressed....

[fl0ptrait]

Dylan Langley for @plumbewb

"Just Julia" Bachelorette Challenge

I present you Dylan.

Dylan is a writer of smut, or erotica novels if you feel fancy. He was born in Brindleton Bay but moved to SanMy when he turned 20 and after publishing his first book. He struggled for the first couple of years working multiple jobs to be able to pay the bills until he made his breakthrough with his book "Bound by Blood". The major difference between his first and second book is that on the second book cover there was a picture of him in the author bio. Since then he uses his good looks to achieve his goals. "It is what it is guys. We are all guilty"

He knows Julia through her youtube channel, Dylan always liked wearing make up but never took the time to actually learn how to do it properly so when he looked for some tutorials he stumbled upon Julia's youtube channel. He now puts on her videos even when he doesn't need any make up tip as he finds her voice soothing. After hearing of her coming out as pansexual and her participation in her own bachelorette challenge he took the opportunity to apply straight away. He considers Julia to be an inspiration in her work and ambition and drive for being indipendent.

Dylan is an only son of a rather normal family, parents are still married and in love, they own two dogs 4 cats and 2 mini goats. He would love to have pets but he wouldn't have enough time to dedicate to them and told himself he would feel guilty to neglect them and have someone take care of them instead of him. He graduated in english literature and philosophy ( I know look at him, he has the aura of a philosopher) and even though he didn't plan on writing erotica books for women that's how he ended up and he quite likes it. Now that he has the means he has bought a bigger house for his family and is planning on sending his parent on a romantic vacation to make up for the fact that they never really had a honeymoon.

If you want to know how he ended up writing erotica novels well it was meant as a joke but his friends like so much the small one shot he wrote that they asked for an entire novel which then became his first book.

He is confident in his looks and his skills and isn't much bothered by people's opinion unless it's from someone he respects and love. He has a few close friends with whom he likes to party at clubs or go to concert. He likes food and he has been taking cooking classes for about a year now "The faster way to anyone's heart is through food" he says and I agree completely. He had a couple of serious relationships one of which left him heart broken but from which he took inspiration for his second book. In between relationship he has a lot of casual sex where he tries a lot of new things, he says first hand experience is good for writing scenes that are more realistic. Sure, we believe you when you say that is why.

Download private if chosen

[plumeriacosmos]

WAIT i also want a polin au where the featherington sisters have a close relationship, maybe because they all understand what it means to be all daughters of a less than popular barony. With a neglectful dad and a mom putting pressure on all of them, they turn to each other to confide their worries and stuff. It’s just an overall sweet relationship. They don’t show affection in public, since their Mama tells them it was unbecoming to show affection in public. Portia loves her daughters very much, she just has some issues regarding showing affection.

They all probably figured out that Pen is LW, with their relationship being so close, it was easy to figure out who LW is. They didn’t confront or stop her, mostly because they saw how much pride and fun Pen is having with it.

Prudence and Philippa, as the two oldest, dotes on and are protective of Pen (Felicity too if we wanted), because they understand that Pen loves deeply. They can see it through her actions, her kindness and her people pleasing (i.e. her relationship with Eloise). That’s why they’re so concerned when they noticed how much Pen adores Colin, and subtly discourage her from holding those feelings. They know the Bridgertons are bad news to them. They all might be part of the Ton, but they’re different compared to their families.

Prudence always watches Pen and Colin like a hawk, which is kind of why she’s not really married yet. She wants to make sure that Colin doesn’t do any funny business to Pen. So when Pen confesses about what she heard Colin say at their ball and (and also confesses about Eloise and the LW business), Prudence was livid. Was about to march into Bridgerton house and everything. But Philippa, the voice of reason, points out that they don’t have any power compared to the Bridgertons. So Prudence doesn’t and instead starts scheming on how to best protect their little sister.

They also say little lies to Portia, just so Pen can finally wear what she likes. Portia finally gives their opinions some value, since they’re married women at this point. They know Pen hates her clothes, and finally not being under their mother’s thumb, they can finally help Pen in some way.

Anyway, the next season, Pru and Pip finally decides to show just how close they are. Finally married (and recruiting their husbands into being protective of Pen), they do everything they can to run interference whenever Pen is about to have some time with Eloise and Colin.

What they don’t realize, is that Pen is also greatly adored by the Bridgertons, and so clearly wished and expected Pen to join them soon (once Colin pulls his head out of ass LMAO) so they also try to interfere when Pru and Pip tries to take Pen out of talking with Colin.

Honestly, i just want a Prudence and Anthony stand off as both the eldest Featherington sibling and the eldest Bridgerton sibling. I think it would be funny.

[eponastory]

I know you most likely already realized this, but I was just thinking about Aang as a father in LOK, and realized something. If Katara ended up with Zuko and eventually had children together, Zuko would likely end up being a better father than Aang. Aang never even met his parents, and only had instructors as parental figures. They're like parents but mostly just in the way that a school teacher would be. But Zuko understands what good parents and what bad parents look like because he knows what his own parents are like. His memories of Ursa and Iroh would be his guide to what you SHOULD do for a child, and Ozai is an example of what you should NOT do. Zuko doesn't have the pressure of repopulating firebenders because firebenders aren't virtually extinct, so there wouldn't be as much (if any) pressure to pay unfairly extra attention to one child over the other. Zuko knows what it's like to be neglected by a parent that's supposed to love because of something you can't control. Aang clearly doesn't, hence why he neglected Bumi and Kya II in the first place. Zuko also has experience with Azula, and would know to recognize any bad signs of sibling jealousy and/or hatred, and put an end to it because he knows what bad sibling dynamics look like.

I feel like he would also be a better husband to Katara. He's not as naive as Aang when it comes to marriage; Zuko has the experience of growing up with two married parents, and would know what not to do. Katara would relax better because the distribution over who watches the kids would be more fair, as Zuko would give them ALL attention. While Aang made Katara jealous from always being around the Air Acolytes (in the comics), I feel like Zuko would not give polite attention to women who are rude to Katara/flirting with him because in the show, Zuko knows exactly how hurtful it feels for a romantic partner to flirt with/give polite attention to people who are obviously pursuers. Imagine being in an alternate dimension where Zutara was the main endgame couple, and we get to see their parental dynamics in LoK. There would probably be a flashback of Katara getting worked up about one of their children, and Zuko would ease her into calming down because he sees a solution that she didn't.

Aang's issues are more than he doesn't know. He is selfish by nature. Selfish parents aren't good parents. I know this for a fact. It's an endless cycle of 'It's your fault' or 'what about how I feel' every time you try to say something. It's not fun, and it's damaging. I can totally see Aang using this behavior as a way to get what he wants. As far as him being naive... yes. He is very naive and doesn't take anything seriously.

Like the war, for instance. He was only there for the last year of it. He wasn't born into the war like Zuko, Katara, Sokka, Toph, and Suki. They aren't naive. They know what war is like. Toph is the same age as Aang, and she is much more mature than he is. He's got this idea that killing anyone is bad, but he is responsible for a lot of deaths. Honestly, he has a kill count from the Fire Nation attack on the NWT, and a lot of people overlook that for some reason. Actually, the show overlooks it because Aang is the Hero, and it's okay if he killed people. So, when all is said and done, all of the things that he does afterward is overlooked too. It's a huge writing flaw with the show. So how does this translate to him as a parent?

It makes him a hypocrite.

Plain and simple.

He's so focused on reviving the Air Nomads that he has little knowledge on what they actually believed. What we are given is a few Taoist, Hindu, and Buddhist proverbs to go off of. Then, it's completely disregarded (disrespected as well) for 'Love'. This 'Love' is actually deep infatuation fueled by jealousy and possessive behavior. Which is actually frowned upon by the three religions mentioned above. It is a 'poison' to the spirit. And disconnects you from being enlightened (I think that is what the proverbs/scriptures are eluding too, if I'm wrong, please do not hesitate to explain, I'm super interested in cultures and eastern religions) or granted a place in Heaven (or their version of it). Letting go of all earthly possessions is common place in most religions. Aang does not do this. But I digress.

So, while there is the Nature vs Nurture aspect of parenting... where Katara does most of the Nurturing because that is how her character is written post-war and LoK. Notice how is said Written. Written by two misogynistic men who stripped her of a lot of her characteristics from the original run of the show. This is the problem. And it's the same with Aang. I can't take him seriously because he doesn't take any of it seriously. Especially with his children. He's not a serious character. He acts like he's serious, but he never really left the 12 year old boy behind to mature. Probably because in his fictional relationship with Katara, she enables him to keep doing what he always does. Which is to not grow. Relationships grow sour when the two people in them do not grow. It's not really about who grew up with parents at that point because it's the current parents that are the ones that should be to blame.

Now on to Headcanon space...

Zutara is a Headcanon ship. Did it almost happen? Oh yes I believe it did because the writing supports it heavily and Bryke's actions post show also scream 'lairs'. Sorry, but I have a pretty good Bullshit metor and Bryke set it off big time by their immature behavior.

But I digress.

Zuko grew up with a Narcissistic Sociopath as a Father and a Mother who was caught in the middle of a choice she was essentially forced to make. Ursa was also forced to forget her own parents never existed after she married Ozai. This is all canon, by the way. Her life before her marriage was great, but then it was taken away so she had nothing left but her morals and beliefs. However, while she loved both of her children, her influence on Zuko is essentially what made him who he is. Ursa didn't get to influence Azula like she did Zuko. Why? Because of Ozai.

Ozai pit his children against each other. This was apparently a Fire Nation Royal Family tradition because it sounds like Azulon did this with Iroh and Ozai as well. This kind of parenting style is abusive to its core. What Ozai did to Zuko isn't neglect... it's straightforward abuse and control. How do you make a child do what you want? You hurt them, or you take something away from them. Ozai both hurt Zuko and took away his home by banishing him. If Zuko wants to go back home, he has to find and capture the Avatar. It's that simple, but at the same time, it's also near impossible.

Flash forward to Canon Zuko and we see he has one child and he is a very loving father. Actually, he's the best father in the show. His experiences with growing up as the not so favorite child has made his choice to have one child easy. Probably because he and his spouse had a less than perfect relationship. This also may have influenced him to be protective of Izumi (as we can see he's still protective over her even at 90 years old) because of the loveless relationship his parents had. It was enough to damage him deeply when it came to relationships. This is likely also why he had trouble with Mai as well.

Headcanon space now...

Zuko loving Katara is what makes the difference here. Love is giving your partner the freedom to make their own choices and support them. As long as there is good communication, trust, and honesty. Something Maiko does not have, by the way. So it stands to reason that even with Nature Vs Nurture in the way of parenting, both win here. I'll tell you why Zuko's relationship with his parents here have no effect on why he would choose to have more children with Katara.

Because if written well, it's a very good relationship between them. We already know they work well as a team. The show gives us this. We know that Zuko absolutely cares about Katara. The show also gives us that. We also know they become lifelong friends. So why do they make great parents?

Because they rely on each other.

It has nothing to do with how they were raised individually, but everything to do with how they support each other narritively. They trust each other to make good decisions together. They rely on being honest with each other. They also communicate with each other. This by itself is the building blocks for a healthy and stable relationship. With that in mind, parenting is easier. There is no need to be afraid of becoming a bad parent because they hold each other accountable. It's a deep relationship. Having multiple children is easier because it is a loving relationship. There's no conflict besides the silly little arguments over simple things that happen all the time. It's just an overall healthy dynamic.

And that is what appeals to Zutarians.

While it was almost canon, I'm glad it isn't because Bryke would definitely not get it right. They tried to make Korra and Mako happen out of spite because they believe Zutara is toxic. It's not. Their children would turn out absolutely fine because Zuko would not change a thing about Katara. It's in the show. He doesn't try to change her because that's not his job. His job in TSR is to let her find closure. He offers it to her because he cares about her. Bottom line.

Anyway, I probably forgot what you said at this point because I just tend to go on and on, but I tried my best to stay on topic... ADHD is both a blessing and a curse.

[valenteal]

I love how complex the dynamics of the Todoroki family are, like mha messed up a lot of things but the Todorokis are so well thought out. They exist independently from one another in a way that most fiction fails to capture. Each of the kids had very different relationships and experiences with their parents and it’s affected them all differently.

People love to say Shouto and Touya are similar but I think they are extremely different because of one detail: Touya knew what a happy family felt like. Before his quirk hurt him his parents adored him and were seemingly happy with each other. He was his father’s greatest achievement and Enji built him up, told him his whole life that he was going to be the best, trained him, praised him. He knew happiness, even if it coincided with physical abuse and unreasonable expectations to put on a child. Overnight he went from being abused but not neglected to neglected but not abused. He continued trying to train himself because for him pain and injury was already a part of his life, he didn’t see a reason for a few burns to stop him because he had probably been told that they shouldn’t by Enji before the truth of his quirk came to light. Touya’s feelings towards Enji are very different from Shouto’s because of this.

Shouto doesn’t seek revenge against his father the same way Touya does, not because Touya suffered more at his hands or because Shouto’s an inherently kind person, but because he never loved Enji. He was an abusive piece of shit for Shouto’s whole life. Touya hates Endeavor because he used to love him. He lives for revenge, his life and goals revolve around bringing down his father, proving himself and hurting the man who hurt him. Shouto would be happy to never even think of Endeavor again. Doesn’t want to see him, doesn’t want anyone to think of his father when the see him, doesn’t want anything at all to do with him. He’s indifferent to Enji’s existence as long as it isn’t immediately impacting him.

Touya and Shouto suffered similar abuse from their father but that key difference of ever feeling loved is what makes them so different. In the end Enji’s love and affection is the reason Touya went crazy, losing something is much harder than never having it in the first place. If Enji hadn’t just stopped spending time with Touya it would’ve been different. If he’d made the effort to really get Touya to understand and not expect overnight results… well it would’ve been a very different story.

[mychlapci]

Sorry, I just got jumped by an idea due to this Tweet.

Tarn is assigned virgin by the author and now I want so bad to have Pharma get his virginity and break his nasty little heart. Or at least that's the intention but there's no way Pharma is getting away after wrecking Tarn so hard he thinks it's love.

I'm picturing the war ending slightly before the Red Rust, so Pharma is left with his reputation and unresolved rage. Post-Peace Treaty, Tarn is thoroughly collared and abandoned (dumped) by Megatron and separated from his division to "integrate" and Pharma finds him vulnerable and alone.

Tarn never did anything, but he certainly looked, and Pharma smells weakness and goes up to tell him bygones are bygones and seduces him. Something that Tarn is unprepared for despite talking a good game. Pharma goes full isolation and gaslight and getting Tarn drunk being sweet and pretty and pushing his tipsy body into bed and telking him to be good while he pushes his legs apart and pets him until he opens.

Tarn starts to atruggle to get up through the haze but Pharma plugs into him locking his fuel intake chip. Tarn is floaty and slow and very, very hot with Pharma petting his valve and cooing it him until his wet, says he must open his legs and shakes himself to be taken so easily and a regularly whore for an Autobot all while rocking his palm against him, grinding against his node and stroking his lips and jerking his spike while Tarn struggles to argue and overloads hard when Pharma leans forward and practically purrs "slut" and stops being gently slapping his valve and pinching his spike.

Tarn sobs through it squirting and Pharma calls him a slob, pushing his thighs further apart roughly and says if Tarn likes it so roughly he'll make sure he enjoys it and thrusts into once without any prep making Tarn scream as his seal breaks and his calipers are shoved open painfully quickly without anytime to recover overstimulated so much it transfers into painful and the edges back to pleasure making Tarn squeal while Pharma talks down to him not stopping saying how neglected he is and desperate and spike hungry and Tarn is melting.

He's hiccuping and moaning and rocking back against Pharma which only makes him get mocked more and Tarn is so overwhelmed and feeling something for the first time in so long and is so painfully lonely the moment Pharma pulls out and says he should leave Tarn there wanting and desperate, Tarn screams no and Pharma looks him dead in the eye and tells him to beg and he does.

Tarn by the end is just absolutely broken in and saying yes, i love you, and pharma over and over letting himself be moved and used until he's unconcious only to wake up and be used again. He is thoroughly under and by the time he comes out is absolutely desperate for Pharma's touch and orders.

And then Pharma leaves. He's smirking and proud of himself. He'd taken pictures and recorded Tarn begging and crawling for him and sucming him off and covered in transfluid and snuck them online anonymously.

Tarn, though, will not lose another master and tracks Pharma down to his distant new hospital waiting for Pharma in his house, and instead of being killed, Pharma, who'd sobered up and realized he might have fucked himself has a new murder sex kitten who is demanding orders and the power freely offered and devotion and plugs in pussy first.

OH holy shit I actually had a dream that i answered this ask with a fanfic i wrote. i did… not. i never wrote a fanfic about virgin Tarn getting ruined by Pharma. which is extremely sad.

Anyhow. Obsessed. I love to think about Tarn being knocked down a peg or two… Abandoned by Megatron and left to fend for himself, Tarn is so lost, he just needs a master to worship. Pharma doesn’t aim to become that but he couldn’t have guessed that pinning down Tarn when he’s vulnerable will make him “fall in love” with him. hrghhh I do want Pharma to tease Tarn when he feels his seal tear open as he pushes in, promising to treat him very nice since this is his first time. Not gentle, but nice will suffice. Tarn breaking down sobbing as he loses his seals, clinging to Pharma, valve hot and wet and staining the bed with squirt and lubricant… Pharma’s ego inflates so much seeing Tarn turn into a babbling mess.

When Tarn chases Pharma down again, he's on his knees in under a minute. Tarn’s never felt pleasure like that and he begs Pharma to pin him down and use him again. Pharma was not ready for a full-time commitment but this is honestly amazing, I mean, the power and control Pharma has over him now…

Tarn is clingy and constantly trailing after him, probably creaming into his panels every time Pharma gives him an order, and it would be a little annoying, but at least Pharma can order Tarn to stay in the bed like a good boy and wait for him to get back. He's always so desperate then, grinding into the bed at the sight of him... <3